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My final Tuesday Teaser of the year! Happy New Year's Eve to all. Stay safe and I'll see you in 2025!  Colt was waiting outside when Mal arrived in the garage. Gwen was overseeing the loading of the van that would carry their clothes and other essentials for the weekend. Colt leaned against the building, watching and occasionally massaging his shoulders, arms, and thighs. He wore a decidedly amused expression. Mal stayed back for a few minutes to simply enjoy how Colt’s hair ruffled in the soft breeze. It was nice seeing him so relaxed. “No, put it on that side. I want to be sure nothing is mixed up.” Gwen was directing one of the young men hired to assist for the day. “Don’t bend that. They have to be hung and not smashed so close together.” She turned around, and as her gaze settled firmly on Mal, she arched an eyebrow and crooked her finger at him. “Oh crap,” he mumbled. “Been found out.” Colt must’ve heard him because he turned away from Gwen and toward Mal, his shoulders bobbing as he chuckled. He walked over and reminded Mal, “You hired her.” Nodding, Mal admitted, “I did.” “You are not arriving at the Hermitage wearing that.” Gwen marched up to Mal, hands on hips, looking him up and down. “Gwen, think about this. It’s a long drive, and I’m the distiller.” Mal put one arm around Colt and shoved him forward a step. “Colt is the guy they’ll take pictures of. No one cares what I wear. I like these pants.” “And, Mr. Kensington, they’re wonderful for working around the distillery. Not walking into the front of the Hermitage.” She pointed to the house. “I selected appropriate attire for you.” Colt snorted. Gwen rounded on him. “As for you! You will wear the pajamas while we’re there.” “How did you know…?” Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Gwen grumbled, “They’re still folded neatly, just the way they came out of the packages.” “But I don’t….” Colt stopped and turned beet red. “What if you have a gentleman caller? You can’t open the door in your underwear,” Gwen chided. “Or nothing at all.” “Ha, ha,” Mal leaned in and teased. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Apparently I have to change clothes.” I like the idea of nothing at all. Colt snickered but didn’t further comment. An incoming text intruded on Mal’s thoughts of Colt wearing nothing but his birthday suit. “And I have to meet with Jeffery before we leave.” “They’re on your—” Gwen called. Mal waved one hand at her. “I know where they are.” He wasn’t back in his suite but a minute when his phone chimed. Throwing it on the bed, he hit the speaker, sat, and proceeded to change. “What’s up, Jeffery? I got your text and was going to stop in your office before we leave.” “We need to talk about Mr. Hale.” “What about him?” Mal asked, though he had a good idea already. “He addresses you by your first name.” “So what? I told him to. You’ve called me Mal for years.” Mal stood up to button his shirt. “Give me five minutes, and we can talk face-to-face.” Mal hit the button, ending the call before Jeffery could say more. As he’d promised, he walked through the door of Jeffery’s office a few minutes later. “Are you sure you should be that comfortable with him?” Jeffery asked without preamble. “And a pleasant day to you too, Jeffery.” “You’re not taking this seriously,” Jeffery pressed. Mal sighed and closed his eyes for a few beats. Jeffery’s wife had died a year ago, and Mal realized all Jeffery had right now was his job. That didn’t mean sometimes Mal’s patience didn’t wear thin. “You said yourself I should like him since we’ll be working together.” “There’s a difference between liking someone you work with and getting too attached. You’re sharing a hotel room with him, and some people on the board are going to question that,” Jeffery pointed out. “I’m sharing a suite,” Mal shot back. “We’ll have separate bedrooms. Gwen is sharing the other one with Audrey and Marty. That place costs a fortune. I’d think the board would be happy I’m not a frivolous spender! And my personal life is just that. Personal. It’s never been a secret I’m gay—” “That’s not the issue, Mal. This guy is a vagrant you essentially took of the street. Yes, he works for your company, but the perks are unusual.” “So I should—what? Only make friends with the right credit score and family pedigree? Who have lived in certain neighborhoods?” Mal strode to the office door and gave it a shove, slamming it shut before he turned back to Jeffery. “There may be a board of directors and shareholders, but this is my company. Mine! If I choose to become friends with those who work here, it’s my decision. I like Colt, and it’s no one’s business what our personal relationship is.” “There is a big difference between being friendly with an employee and becoming too attached. People are going to see him as the male version of a gold digger.” “Well, people can go screw themselves.” Mal took a few deep breaths to calm down. “I’ll be fine, Jeffery. Colt and I are friends. Anything else is for us to decide. Not you, not the board. I appreciate your concern, but I’m a big boy and can take care of myself. Now I have to go pass Gwen’s inspection.” Jeffery nodded. “Understood.” He stood up. “Be careful. I don’t want to see you or this company get hurt.”    
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 My sale books for January 2025 are marked down and ready to go! Click on the banner to be taken to the book's page.     My snippet this week is from Quarry, book 2 of The Vampire Guard.  “You fight like a man trained from boyhood because it was expected of him,” Varian said, an obvious ploy to distract Declan. Saber held on the defensive, Varian strode forward in a classic fencing stance. “French nobility.” Declan held his sword in both hands now as it clashed with Varian’s saber. “I was a gladiator. I despise patricians.” Varian twisted away, then spun in a circle and came at Declan once more. “And a pirate.” Declan spun and kicked, slamming his foot into Varian with enough force that the man stumbled backward. His fencing instructor might have taught him to fight like a gentleman, but it was pirates who had schooled him in fighting to survive. “I cheat.” There are more wonderful and diverse snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group.  Check the banners below for some great sales and deals!      Ian shook his head. “No thanks.” He ran a hand through his dark, disheveled hair. “I’ve been thinking about meeting with the other couple.” “Yeah?” Taren slowed the car even more and guided it to the off-ramp. “How come you didn’t invite them to our wedding?” Taren chuckled. “They were my college pals.” He shrugged. “Pretty much our whole relationship was sex scenes and swapping at clubs, sometimes we studied. We went our separate ways not long after college. By the time I moved here I only heard from Kevin once or twice a year, things like happy birthday, Merry Christmas emails. I made friends, real friends here.” “But you knew they’d be at this particular resort at the same time we’d be there,” Ian said softly. “Yes and no,” Taren said. “I told you Kevin and his wife Colleen go there every year?” “Yes.” Ian nodded. “They have a circuit of clubs they visit. This particular one is my favorite and closest to where we live.” He paused to check the GPS. “I didn’t want any awkward surprises, so I emailed Kevin and asked if they were going to be there. He emailed back a few days later and invited us to join them. I told him I’d talk it over with you. I have no idea if they already had plans to be there at the same time or if he arranged it after I contacted him.” “What if I’d said no?”     “Stop it!” Dylan snapped. He punched Clint’s head twice. “This is our adventure into love. It’s just you and me and no one else from now on.” The punches stunned Clint. He sucked in a breath and tried to move away, but there was nowhere to go. Dylan’s fingers curled in Clint’s hair. He yanked Clint toward him, then away in rapid succession and slammed Clint’s head back against the headrest. Small sparks of pain lanced through his shoulders and down his back until Dylan released him and he could hold his head at a normal angle again. Clint squeezed his eyes shut but couldn’t stop the few tears that trickled down his cheeks. He pressed his lips together and kept his eyes closed, repeating in his head that until he saw proof otherwise, Griff and their dogs were unharmed. There are more snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group.
Jewel Cave is available in eBook and paperback. NEW RELEASE 
Book Title: Home of the Strange (Worldwalkers 1) Author and Publisher: J.K. Hogan Cover Artist: Wicked Pixel Designs Release Date: December 19, 2024 Pairing: MM Tense/POV: First person, present tense, alternating POV Genres: Near-future, semi-apocalyptic urban fantasy romance with monsters/cryptids Tropes: monsters, a bit of mystery Themes: Neurodivergence, unconventional heroes, did I mention monsters? Heat Rating: 4 flames Length: 245 pages It is part of a series but it’s the first book. There's no cliffhanger. Each book in the series is about different characters so there is an HEA for these two, although the epilogue is a little teaser about the next book. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited 
What will happen when worlds collide? Blurb Maddox is just trying to get by. Navigating a world that’s not built for people like him—people who are different—can be hard, but he keeps his head down and muddles through. Until his strictly ordered life gets turned upside down by a sighting of something that just…should not exist. Driven by their shared love of mysteries—and cryptids—Mads and his small group of equally outcast friends get pulled into the mystery of a lifetime. In this new reality, one where supernatural beings exist and the world might be ending, Mads somehow finds the confidence to throw himself headlong into the fray. Because nobody’s going to worry about how different he is when nothing is normal anymore. Kisa has one mission: track his targets and dispense justice or rescue, depending on who he is pursuing. He was most certainly not supposed to become infatuated with the native creatures of this strange place—well, one in particular—yet he finds himself unable to stay away. When he begins to understand that Maddox and his friends have a part to play in all this madness, all he can do is go along for the ride and try to keep them all alive. Excerpt KISA His scent is intoxicating. I have decided the creature is male based on physical features and the sound of his voice, but I am prepared to be corrected if I have misinterpreted. No matter what he is, his aroma has ensnared me with its sweetness. I keep edging nearer, wanting only to be close to him. I wish I could touch him, but any move I make only seems to frighten him more. I try to ask him if his head is paining him, but of course, he cannot understand my language any more than I do his. The only information I have been able to glean from him is that he is indeed a hue-mann, the dominant species of this sphere—a fact which still surprises me—and I am able to tell him that I am Daemalian, though that will mean little to him. I inch closer to him once again but freeze when he flinches and squeezes his eyes shut. It is so frustrating to be unable to communicate with him. I like the sound of his voice and wish he would say more, even though I cannot understand the words. I splay my hand across my chest once again and say, “I am Kisa, son of Kamiel, son of Kumandra. What is your name?” I point to him at the end. He blinks those big, strange-colored eyes at me with no sign of understanding. I try again. Tapping my chest, I say simply, “Kisa.” Then I point to him. His eyes widen, and his lips curl slightly as if he wants to smile but cannot quite manage it. Then he touches his chest and says, “Maddox . . . Mads.” Two similar names with unfamiliar words in between. Maybe the second one is a familiar title. Some of my kind have both a formal title and a familiar one. I do not know this creature well enough to be familiar, so I will use his formal title until he tells me otherwise. I test it out on my tongue, trying to bend my lips to make the awkward sounds. “Mad . . . dox,” I say carefully. This time he does smile, brilliantly. His teeth are small and blunt, that of a prey animal—so odd for an apex species—but the act transforms his face from intriguing to beautiful. I shuffle closer and give him my best smile. I realize too late what he would see—a mouthful of sharp fangs on full display. With a gasp, his entire body jolts, and his eyes roll back before he topples over, unconscious. At least, I hope he is only unconscious. I will have a lot of explaining to do to my superiors if they learn I have frightened a hue-mann to death. But when I hold my hand under his nose, I feel his warm breath. I puff out a sigh of relief. Successfully avoided an interspherical incident. Barely. Not frightened to death, just frightened into fainting. With a sigh, I climb to my feet and gently lift him. As I carry him to his nest, I try to ignore how much I like the feel of him in my arms. Once he is deposited on his bed, I do something I know I should not. I brush his hair away from his face, luxuriating in the soft silkiness of it. A shiver ripples through me. Why does this creature affect me so? For now, I must leave him alone to process all he has seen. He was frightened, yes, but not as terrified as I would have expected a prey animal to be. I want to find out more about this species—for research purposes, of course—and for better or worse, this creature and I have made a connection. I will leave him to sleep, but I will return. I am far from finished with . . . with Maddox. About the Author J.K. Hogan is a pan/demi nerd living in North Carolina with her husband, two sons, and their pets. She’s been telling stories for as long as she can remember, beginning with writing character lists and storylines for her toys growing up. In addition to being an author, J.K. is an autist, an artist, and an activist, with a special place in her heart for Star Trek. When she isn’t writing, J.K. can be found designing book covers at Wicked Pixel Designs, creating fiber art and supplies at Earthbound Fiber Arts, watching Hurricanes Hockey and, of course, reading! For more information, visit her Website Social Media Links Facebook | Bluesky | Instagram 
Giveaway Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card 
 The rich aroma of coffee swirled around under Eric’s nose, and he inhaled deeply, savoring it before taking a sip. Flipping the newspaper open, he spread it across his legs. This was nice. He liked having a front porch to sit on, where he could sip his coffee and read the paper in the morning. Getting used to this wasn’t going to be a chore at all, and it beat the apartment he’d moved out of. A dog, he—they—needed a dog. Eric decided he’d get a dog and surprise Jay. Something big, not too shaggy, a mutt maybe. He’d check the shelter in one of the neighboring towns. Movement and the soft rustle of footsteps on grass caught Eric’s attention. Looking up, Eric set his mug on the porch floor and glanced around, smiling when he caught sight of Jay. Watching Jay run across the field separating the woods from the street made Eric’s heart rate pick up. Jay was all legs, lean, defined muscle, and delightful blue eyes Eric never tired of gazing into. His black hair fanned out behind him. When he got a good look at the expression Jay wore, Eric shoved out of the chair. His newspaper fluttered to the floor, smile sliding off his face. Jay wasn’t simply sprinting across to the house, he was running flat out. That was no fresh-air buzz and some exercise. He was running more like his ass was on fire, or he was afraid. Jay was running for his life like a man being chased. Eric took two steps toward the end of the porch and froze, watching as Jay bolted down the street toward him. There was nothing behind him or emerging from the woods. The sheer panic on Jay’s face chilled Eric to the core. Jay crossed the small yard in a few steps and startled Eric into motion when he launched onto the porch, not touching down on any of the steps. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong, Jay?” Eric reached out, grabbing Jay’s shoulders with both hands. Jay immediately twisted and looked behind him, stepping closer to Eric and pressing against his hands. Gulping in huge, unsteady breaths, he pointed at the woods. “There was… I had a feeling… I—I’m not….” Gripping Jay with more force, Eric stepped around him and let a hand slide over Jay’s back. “It’s alright. I don’t see anything.” He eased between Jay and the porch railing. “There’s nothing out there.” Jay leaned down, bracing his hands on his knees, sucking air into his lungs, trembling. “Take it easy.” Eric rubbed Jay’s back lightly. “What did you see?” “I—nothing. Not really.” “Okay.” Eric scanned the area, confused. “What the hell are you running from?” Standing straight, Jay looked at him for a few seconds before glancing toward the field, then turning back to Eric. “I don’t know.” He rubbed the back of his neck and took more deep breaths. “Maybe I should start at the beginning.” “Yeah, good idea.” “I was out running, like I always do.” “Same route you usually take?” Jay nodded. “Yes, been going the same way for the last decade.” “Maybe you should change it up once in a while.” When Jay glared at him, Eric shrugged. “Or not. I guess that’s a good thing to do, in case someone needed to find you.” “I got about halfway and… I don’t know, it was….” Jay’s voice faltered and a shiver ran through him. Eric rubbed Jay’s shoulder blades again. “Take your time, relax. You’re safe.” Nodding, Jay inhaled deeply and blew his breath out slowly. “The woods got really quiet, too quiet. One of the first things you learn about big game hunting is the forest is never silent. There is always noise, and when there isn’t, that says some sort of predator is close. I’ve been in woods, farther out, where a grizzly or cougar was around and things were quiet, but not like it was today while I was out there. This was more. It was deathly quiet.” “Did you see anything?” “No.” Jay shook his head. “But—” He shivered again and rubbed his arm. “—I felt something. I was being watched, I’m sure of it. I tried turning around and going home, then in other directions, and I-I kept feeling… terror. That’s the only way I can describe it. Like I was being stalked. I’d go another way and it’d ease off.” “As if something was pushing you to go a certain way?” Jay met Eric’s gaze, eyes wide, his face pale, and nodded. “It was… I’ve never felt that afraid of anything in my life. Ever.” Eric looked back at the woods, then turned to Jay. “That’s how we find it.” “Huh? Find what?” “The killer. It has to have a way to get its victims where it wants them. Each of the bodies was killed elsewhere and dumped in the same spot. That means those men, at least some of them, were lured or driven somewhere secluded. If they hadn’t been, some signs would have been found somewhere by now. People bleed—a lot.” For the Long Run is available in eBook, paperback, audio and through Kindle Unlimited.   This week's snippet is from Shifting Chaos, book 4 of The Sleepless City (series co-written with Anne Barwell).  “It’ll take three of us,” Declan continued, then blew out a long-suffering sigh. “I suppose you need incentive, however. Ben, how would you feel about a night in lockup?” Ben shrugged. “As long as my mum never finds out. She’d be upset.” “No,” Simon snapped. “I’m on an administrative leave,” Forge objected, “not banished from the kingdom. I can go there whenever I want to. I’m not locked out of cases, but I do have to take a forced vacation. Eat right, sleep in, see the department shrink, no crime scene interviews. I still have my badge.” When he put one hand on his belt, Forge closed his eyes and pressed his lips together for a few seconds, then ground out, “Give me my badge back.” Declan handed it over, and Forge patted his back pocket. “Wallet.” Grinning, Declan placed that in Forge’s hand. “Couldn’t get my phone, eh?” He reached for the pocket on the inside of his jacket and growled. “I don’t have your phone,” Declan said. “But here’s your flash drive.” Forge turned when he heard Blair tap his fingers against the table. He was holding Forge’s phone. “See?” Declan spread his arms wide. “A natural. Oh, and Lucas, for the record, the aircraft carrier was a PT boat, the bomb was three hand grenades in a gunny sack, and the only thing about to be destroyed was the galley. In retrospect that would have been a public service. That the event took place during World War Two and Jonas flung the sack overboard was accurate.” Forge rolled his eyes and grumbled “traitors” under his breath. He sat down and began putting food on his plate. “While you were embarking on a life of crime, I got this.” He flicked at the flash drive Declan had set on the table. “And Mindy O’Shea e-mailed me the rest. She uncovered something that might be a connection between the first set of victims.” Find more snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group!
Shifting Chaos is available in eBook, paperback and through Kindle Unlimited. NEW RELEASE 
Book Title: North Star, Yule Lads 2 Author: TA Moore Publisher: Rogue Firebird Press Cover Artist: Tammy Moore Release Date: December 15, 2024 Pairing: MM Tense/POV: third person/alternating POV Genres: Urban Fantasy Tropes: Opposites attract, Secret lovers, Us against the World, Tough Guy in Soppy Love Themes: Family is what you make it, Love Languages Heat Rating: 4 flames Length: 50 000 words/ 130 pages It is the sequel to True North. It does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links 
Dylan Hollie saved Christmas, not that he can tell anyone about it. Blurb Dylan Hollie saved Christmas, not that he can tell anyone about it.
Excerpt “Just to be clear, it’s not a Christmas party,” the dark-haired man said as he ushered the two paramedics off the lift and onto the floor belonging to Demre and Hill Finances. “It’s an end-of-year celebration.” Nobody had asked. Dylan hefted his jump bag up onto his shoulder and cocked his head to one side as he looked the man up and down. “Huh,” he said. Normally he would be all for a non-denominational December. Not everything had to be about Christmas. In fact, right now, the less he heard about it the better. That said, it seemed a little disingenuous to make that claim on the twenty-first of December while wearing a Santa suit. The man was self-aware enough to look awkward as he adjusted the fur-lined collar of his suit. He flushed and pulled the fake beard down under his chin. The elastic dug into his ears. “This was…for the children,” he said. Dylan glanced at his watch. The second hand ticked along inexorably as the date on the face quivered a minute away from clicking over to the twenty-second. “Really?” he asked. Alice stepped past him “You’ve made his day,” she said cheerfully. “He hates Christmas.” The man preened just a little under her attention. Alice tended to have that effect on people. Sometimes Dylan wondered what the fact they’d been made partners said about him. “I don’t hate Christmas,” Dylan responded on autopilot. “It just shouldn’t start in—” “August. I know,” Alice said. She gave the not-Santa a megawatt smile and rolled her eyes in mock-exasperation. “That’s how long he’s been complaining about the Dollar Store having reindeer dog toys in stock. So what’s the problem? Your call said someone had an accident?” The man started to answer, stopped himself, and pulled a dubious face. “I guess?” he said. “You kind of have to see for yourself.” He gestured for them to follow him and headed across the lobby toward the smoked glass doors that led the way into the Demre and Hill’s offices. Dylan leaned over to mutter to Alice as they started after him. “You don’t see Easter eggs in October.” She jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow. “Give it a rest.” Fine. Dylan gestured his surrender and stretched his legs to catch up with Not-Santa as the man held the doors open for them. The speaker-distorted sound of the latest poppy Christmas hit spilled out through the gap, saccharine sweet and quick paced. “It’s Spotify,” Not-Santa said defensively before Dylan could even hitch an eyebrow. It might be. That wasn’t enough to help his case, though. Maybe he could pass the colored paper chains off as a craft project, but the six-foot decorated spruce in the middle of the office would be hard to pass off as anything but Christmas. If Not-Santa wanted to live in denial, though…far be it from Dylan to burst his bubble. “Can you give us any idea what happened?” he prodded instead. As they headed through the office, the deflated-looking partygoers shuffled awkwardly out of their way. One of them caught a glare from Not-Santa and quickly pulled the paper crown off his head to stuff in his pocket. About the Author TA Moore is a Northern Irish writer of romantic suspense, urban fantasy, and contemporary romance novels. A childhood in a rural, seaside town fostered in her a suspicious nature, a love of mystery, and a streak of black humour a mile wide. Coffee, Doc Marten boots, and good friends are the essential things in life. Spiders, mayo, and heels are to be avoided. Author Links Blog/Website | Facebook | Twitter Instagram | Newsletter Sign-up | TikTok Giveaway Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win one of 5 ebook copies of either True North or Liar, Liar (winner's choice) and a $15 Amazon gift card 
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