 My Tuesday Teaser this week is from my urban fantasy/paranormal romance thriller, Scintilla!
Amazon US ~|~ Amazon UK Raul stood and watched him the entire time. When Brandon began shifting his weight from foot to foot Raul pulled in a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. “Stop fidgeting.” He pulled a piece of paper from a small rack near the door and read it over. “According to the questionnaire you filled out you want the full deal. Are you a virgin?” “No, sir. But I’ve only ever been with humans.” Nodding, Raul leaned back against a padded bench and crossed his ankles. “We’ll go as far as you can take it, but…” he held up one finger and stared intently at Brandon. “Some males, even if they’re werewolf simply can’t tolerate the complete thing. No shame in that. If you need to stop, we stop. If I think you can’t take it, we stop.” He turned his attention to the paper once again. “You can do that, stop if you’re knotted?” The question burst out of Brandon before he could stop it. “Yeah. I’m a professional. I train.” “How?” Raul looked up, an expression of surprise and maybe amusement, all over his face. “How do you think?” “I—uh.” Brandon shut his mouth before he made a complete fool out of himself. Raul smiled and chuckled. “All females, human, werewolf, selkie, centaur, leprechaun they seem made for it and the majority enjoy a wolf partner. Though, honestly selkies…” he shuddered. “No, just no. Anyway, my point is, we males aren’t made for this particular activity and not all can follow through. Don’t be afraid to tell me to stop. I’ve plenty of other skills you’ll appreciate. The main point is you enjoy our time together, that’s what you’re paying for. Not to be hurt.” “Understood,” Brandon said. When Raul arched an eyebrow again Brandon added, “Sir.” “Continuing on… you said yes to slings, ropes, paddling, no caning—thank you, I don’t like that at all. Mild choking, but no head gear or masks. What about blindfolds?” “I think since I’ve never done this before I’d like to see what goes on,” Brandon admitted. “Sir.” “Okay. Mouth gags?” “Not the big ball kind, but other sorts I might like, sir.” Raul snickered. “Those balls make my jaws ache just looking at them.” His face elongated to exhibit a hint of snout. “And I’ve got serious jaws.” That made Brandon laugh and relax. “Finally. I was worried you’d be strung this tight and stiff the entire time. I might be a big, bad wolf but I like repeat customers,” Raul said. He stood straight and leaned to the side far enough to return the paper to its holder. “Anything else I should know?” “No, sir.” “Do you have a safe word, or do you want me to assign you one?” “Calico,” Brandon said. Raul threw his head back and laughed. “I love it! We’re going to have a fun time. I like you, kid. This’ll be fun. Let’s get started, shall we?”  This week my snippet comes from Scintilla, which is on sale for only $2.99!  “Don’t move!” One of the younger officers barked from behind Raul. He must have returned to assist with what was inside the building and probably hadn’t heard Raul’s statement about Brandon being a scintilla. Now he’d stepped into a tense scene. Brandon glared at the Taser and his hands sparked. He pointed his Taser at Brandon. “Stand down,” Iva ordered. “Crap!” Raul spat. He snatched the blanket from Janey the second she re-entered the room and holding it out like a toreador’s cape he went from a standstill to full speed in two strides. There are many more snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group!  Scintilla is available from Amazon and is in Kindle Unlimited.
Dahlia Donovan has a new queer cozy mystery out (ace, biromantic, lesbian), Motts Cold Case Mystery Book 2: Pierced Peony. And there's a giveaway! On a casual walk along the Cornish Coast, Pineapple “Motts” Mottley stumbles upon a body and a perilous new murder case in the second novel in the Motts Cold Case Mystery series. As spring rolls into summer, Motts settles into her cottage. She’s enjoying a daily stroll when a body in the sea destroys her peace and quiet. It brings yet another mystery for her to solve. How does a woman who vanished from Polperro three years prior wind up battered by waves? Motts is drawn into the investigation despite her best attempts. She finds a family in turmoil and loads of suspects. With no easy answers, she tumbles further into chaos and ever closer to danger. Can Motts find the killer before she’s the one put on ice? Will she survive a bone-chilling brush with death? Giveaway Dahlia is giving away a $10 Amazon gift card with this tour: Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47183/? Excerpt
A cat, a turtle, and a stranger face off in the garden. The stranger blinks first. Right. The joke still needs some work. “Do you always let your turtle and cat out in the garden together?” “They’re friends. They like to gossip.” Motts set her trowel to one side and got to her feet. She dusted the grass and dirt off her knees. “They both need fresh air and sun in moderation. Are you lost?” The man didn’t seem lost despite having popped up beside the back fence around her garden. He looked like a police officer. Though not quite as broad-shouldered, he stood as tall as Teo Herceg, the detective inspector she’d met in April and had been dating for over a month. “I’m hoping to speak with Pineapple Mottley.” He sounded like a policeman. His suit, while nice, appeared rumpled from driving; his short grey hair, however, was gelled and styled perfectly. “I’m Detective Inspector Dempsey Byrne with the Metropolitan Police’s cold case unit.” “Cold case?” Motts’s heart stuttered in her chest. She rubbed her fingers together nervously. “Jenny. You’re here about Jenny.” Jenny Cleverly had been her lone best friend through her early childhood. Motts had stumbled across Jenny’s lifeless body on her way home from primary school while walking through a park, hidden behind a hedge. She still had nightmares about finding her. The unsolved crime had haunted Motts. She’d developed an obsessive curiosity about cold cases as a result. And at least once a year, she searched online to see if anyone had been arrested for Jenny’s murder. “Ms Mottley?” “Motts.” She had a sudden sense of déjà vu; she’d had a similar conversation with Teo in April. He’d been investigating the murder of a Rhona Walters, who’d been buried in the garden behind her cottage. It had been an auspicious start to her life in Polperro. “Cactus.” Her beloved Sphynx cat had leapt onto the fence and then over to the detective’s shoulder. Detective Inspector Byrne didn’t bat an eyelid. He simply reached up to pat Cactus on his head. Well, he certainly approves of the random strange man intruding on our afternoon. Intruding inspector intrudes introspectively. Introspectively? Not my best alliteration. “I don’t often see a flowerless garden.” He glanced slowly around at her rows of fruits and herbs. “None at all?” “My allergies try to drown me if I’m around them for too long.” Motts kept flowers far away from her cottage. Real ones, in any case. She made and sold origami and quilled floral arrangements as part of her small business, Hollyhock Folded Blooms. “Why don’t you come in for tea? Cold case curiosities can converse comfortably.” Don’t frighten the fancy London detective with your peculiarities. The judgmental voice in her head sounded suspiciously like her mum, who meant well but couldn’t always relate to Motts’s more unique traits. She didn’t understand her wayward autistic and asexual daughter. Motts had given up trying to fit into neurotypical moulds. I am who I am. Alliterations and all. Oh, fun accidental alliterations are the best. “I wouldn’t want to impose.” “Wouldn’t you?” Motts stared blankly at the man, unable to decide if he was being polite or not. “You drove from London. At least a five-hour drive on a good day. Tea isn’t imposing. Sleeping in my garden and trampling the herbs would be.” Author Bio
Dahlia Donovan wrote her first romance series after a crazy dream about shifters and damsels in distress. She prefers irreverent humour and unconventional characters. An autistic and occasional hermit, her life wouldn’t be complete without her husband and her massive collection of books and video games. Author Website: http://dahliadonovan.com/ Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/dahliadonovan Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/DahliaDonovan Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/dahliadonovanauthor/ Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8184061.Dahlia_Donovan Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/dahlia-donovan/ Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Dahlia-Donovan/e/B00KFNZFHU/ 
Don't miss out on all these great books! Click on the banner to be taken to the bundle.    My Tuesday Teaser this week is from Code Name Jack Rabbit (The Vampire Guard book 1)! And it's on sale this week!  “This thing is going down. We’ve got to get off,” Forge said.
Making their way to the top deck, assisting people to lifeboats as best they could, they finally reached the uppermost deck. It was open to the sky. There were two pools and a section with a line of telescopes, as well as several hot tubs. The sky was dark, the water even darker. Two of the masts were cracked, the sails attached to them flapping precariously. There weren’t as many people up here. Forge ran to one of the pools. The diving board had snapped in two, and a few people were floundering, trying to get out. Lucas and Blair had followed. Lucas dove into the water and began helping people, Sheryl Sloane among them, to the edge. Blair and Forge grabbed outstretched hands and hauled one person after another out, and then Blair pointed them in the direction of the nearest lifeboat. Lucas pulled himself out of the pool and grabbed Forge’s arm. “Declan’s over there.” “I see him.” Forge snagged Blair’s shirt and they ran toward Declan. He was on the other side of the deck, near where the ship was cracking and splintering. They saw Sloane and his son-in-law by one of the rails. One mast broke loose, the heavy pole of wood swinging toward Curtis Sloane. Declan sprinted forward, vaulted the widening crack, and grabbed Sloane around the waist, shoving him away. The two of them skidded into Sloane’s son-in-law, who shoved one hand out to stop them. He wiped his hand across Sloane’s shoulder and down his back, leaving a trail of something shiny. “Did you see that?” Blair hissed. “I sure as hell did,” Forge said. Lucas sniffed the air. “Fish.” Without warning he grabbed Forge’s arm with an iron grip. Eyes widening, Lucas drew in a breath and screamed, “Declan!” Then he charged forward. Water erupted upward and sluiced across the flooring. The railing crumpled as if under some immense weight, and the ship rocked violently in that direction. Declan looked back, picked Curtis Sloane up, and threw him to the far side of the deck. Sloane grabbed the cracked side of a pool as he went sliding in. Declan threw one arm over his face and ducked, turning away from the oncoming water. A high-pitched squeal preceded Declan being lifted like a rag doll off the deck and swung back and forth a few times before being pulled into the water. Forge was only able to catch glimpses of the creature because he knew what to look for. Shoving Blair backward, ordering, “Stay,” he darted after Lucas to the deck’s edge in time to see Declan dragged beneath the water’s surface. Lucas didn’t even slow down before he dove off the ship—with Forge right behind him.
J. Scott Coatsworth's MM "elf-meets-trans-man in post-climate-change San Francisco" book Cailleadhama is now out in audiobook format. And there's a giveaway! Colton is a trans man living in a climate-changed world. He plies the canals that used to be city streets, earning a living taking tourists on illicit journeys through San Francisco's flooded edges beneath the imposing bulk of the Wall. Tris is an elf who comes through the veil to the City by the Bay - the Caille - on a coming of age pilgrimage called the Cailleadhama. He is searching for his brother Laris, who went missing after crossing through the Caille years before. The two men find they have common cause, and together they set off to find Laris in a world transformed by the twin forces of greed and climate change. And in the end, they find out more than they ever expected, both about the warming world and their own selves. Audible Audiobook | Amazon Kindle EBook Amazon PaperbackGiveaway Scott is giving away your choice of a $20 Amazon Gift Certificate or a signed first edition of the Liminal Sky: Ariadne Cycle Trilogy (USA only). Enter via Rafflecopter: Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47179/? Excerpt
Audio Excerpt: [audio mp3="https://www.otherworldsink.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/01-Chapter-01.mp3"][/audio] Text Excerpt: Colton sat at the old, salvaged mirror in his wreck of an apartment, high above the Main Street Canal on San Francisco's drowned waterfront. Not that San Francisco didn’t have its pride. As the Capital of Pacifica, she was still a center of commerce and politics. But canal rats like Colton didn’t matter much anymore. The bed behind him, salvaged from another abandoned apartment, was a mess of sheets, a reminder of the trick he'd brought home the night before, someone who'd been paid enough to overlook Colton's shortcomings. Colton took out a vial of testosterone—his last one, bought at a dear price from the Pharmacist. He pulled out a clean syringe and took off the plastic top, pulling out the stopper to 5 milliliters. He inserted the needle into the bottle, and pushed the air in, an act familiar to him from long practice. Then he pulled out the last of the drug, flicking the syringe twice and pushing out all the air bubbles. He replaced the needle with a smaller gauge, dumping the larger one into an old caramel corn can he kept for his medical waste. He used a piece of cotton and a bottle of cheap liquor to wipe down the injection site on his thigh, sterilizing it as best he could. Once it was dry, he took a deep breath, pinching his muscle and pulling his skin to the side. He inserted the needle into his leg, drawing the syringe back a bit to make sure there was no blood. He had to be careful to avoid injecting the hormone directly into his bloodstream. It hurt a little, but he was used to it. He dumped the used syringe and the empty vial into the can. He had friends who weren’t so careful to use clean needles, for their hormones or recreational drugs. Some of those friends were now dead, or worse. Next, he took the medical bandages that he carefully washed every day, and wrapped them around his chest, binding his breasts tightly. He didn’t look at them. He hated those reminders of his female body—he'd been running from that accident of birth for years. He wrapped the bandages around himself three or four times, holding in his breath. Once he had his breasts secured, he adjusted them to the side to make his chest as flat as possible. He looked at the results in the mirror. It would have to do. He wished he could afford to be re-sequenced. To truly make his body match his gender, to not feel counterfeit in his own form. Colton glanced out through the broken window. The lights of the City were starting to come on over there as dusk approached. He lived in a no man’s land, the part of the City where the water encroaching from the Bay had reached the old first and second floors. Toward the heart of the City, on the other side of the Wall, the rich still carried on as if nothing had changed. Those with money called the drowned parts of the city the Canal District. It ran from the old Levis Plaza down to China Basin along the City’s Bay side. There were a number of tony restaurants on the roofs and higher floors of the City behind the Wall that offered views of this supposedly "romantic" neighborhood. For a fee, you could even take a ride through the ruins on a gondola. That was Colton's “day job”. It brought in enough money to afford food, hormones, and little else, at least, when he was able to pay Mason his overdue boat storage fees. So at night, he haunted the drowned streets, looking for those he could help, or sometimes relieve of their excess cash. Author Bio
Scott lives with his husband Mark in a yellow bungalow in Sacramento. He was indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine. He devoured her library, but as he grew up, he wondered where all the people like him were. He decided that if there weren’t queer characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends. A Rainbow Award winning author, he runs Queer Sci Fi, QueeRomance Ink, and Other Worlds Ink with Mark, sites that celebrate fiction reflecting queer reality, and is a full member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA). Author Website: https://www.jscottcoatsworth.com Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworth Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworthauthor/ Author Twitter: https://www.jscottcoatsworth.com/jscoatsworth Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jscottcoatsworth/ Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8392709.J_Scott_Coatsworth Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/ Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/ Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/J.-Scott-Coatsworth/e/B011AFO4OQ
Happy May! May 1 was National Purebred dog Day in the US, so naturally I grab any opportunity to sneak in pics of my dogs. They're both Cardigan Welsh Corgis. Taylor is on the left and Finn is on the right. Now onto my snippet which comes from High Test!  “But before I went to the car show with him, he was in here all the time, and—”
“And nothing,” Steffie cut him off. “There is such a thing as stuff coming up and phones dying and lots of other reasons, and it’s only been a few days. The guy is into you. I can tell, and I’m always right.” Hayden sighed and his shoulders slouched. “I can’t set the facts straight over the phone or in a text. I was in his house, and we spent nearly two days together. I should have said something. Every time I tried, he’d interrupt me, but he kept acting like he was waiting for me to—” “Stop!” Steffie said and laughed. Hayden’s phone announced a text. “See, I bet that’s him right now.” Hayden pulled out his phone and gaped at it. “It is.” He shoved the phone toward Steffie. “I can’t read it.” Steffie took the phone, and after spending a few seconds staring at it, she grinned. “Read it, you moron.” She shook her head and walked away to refill some of the bins with their dwindling supply of beans. There are lots of great snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group! 
Bryan T. Clark has a new MM contemporary romance out: Gideon's Wish. And there's a giveaway! He might be Mr. Right, but their timing is all kinds of wrong… Gideon Miller is done letting his heart do the thinking for him. Been there, done that, still has the emotional scars to prove it. Besides, he’s leaving Los Angeles soon. There’d be no point in starting up a new romance now. But when he meets the off-the-charts sexy, ex-military man next door, Gideon starts to question everything… Isaiah Williams needs a fresh start. With his time in the Navy—and a painful, toxic relationship—behind him, he’s ready to start a new life. Now all he has to do is figure out how to keep his matchmaking mother out of his business…and how to not fall for his sweet, nerdy, and entirely too attractive neighbor… They’re complete opposites with nothing but trust issues in common. Their timing? Terrible. And yet…none of that matters when they’re together. Will love be enough to get Gideon and Isaiah to happily ever after? Or are they destined to remain star-crossed? “Gideon’s Wish, a standalone, steamy, lightly angsty, M/M contemporary romance, features a loveable, openly gay handyman and the not-so-openly gay alpha male of his dreams. HEA guaranteed. Download today and get ready to fall in love with your next favorite read.” Giveaway Bryan is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour: Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47182/? Excerpt “Your dad and I are so proud of you and the work you’ve done on the house. I admit, I thought your dad was crazy to want to take the loan out to do this…But it really looks nice.” He knew she was referring to the latest pictures he’d sent her. Although he’d spent every bit of the twenty grand from the home equity loan they’d taken out for the project, they saved so much money in labor by him doing the work himself. Gideon groaned into the receiver. He hated talking money with her. It was always ‘we can’t afford that.’ “Well, I wanted to talk to you and Dad about the master bathroom. I was thinking we should redo the bathroom before we put it back up for rent. I can pay for it with the money I’m making, and…” The sound of a door closing caused Gideon to look over his shoulders, out the window, and into the carport that he and his neighbor, Daisy, shared. Jesus! Gideon’s lower jaw dropped as he stared at the young man coming out of Daisy’s house holding a trash bag. Shirtless, his gorgeous brown chest muscles were like two rounded mountains. As the guy walked across the carport, Gideon’s eyes traced down his picture-perfect six-pack abs to a tapered waist and strong thighs. He had the classic military hair cut, trimmed short all the way around except for the top of his head. “Hold on! Your father’s walking in. Talk to him about that. I love you!” “I love you, too,” he tried to say before she was gone. As he waited for his dad to get on the phone, Gideon now remembered Daisy saying last week that her son, Isaiah, was coming home and would be staying with her until he got on his feet. Was this who this gorgeous specimen of a man was? Gideon’s gaze fell below the guy's waist. Holy shit! What the hell is that swinging in his black nylon gym shorts? Obviously, commando under the tight shorts, the sheer size of it sent blood flooding into Gideon’s own groin. The man’s warm chestnut skin tone complimented his black hair and thin, neatly-trimmed mustache that dropped to his jaw line. If this was indeed Isaiah, he was way better-looking than his brothers and in great shape. He was all kinds of sexy. Author Bio 
Bryan T. Clark is a hopeless, perpetual, unceasing, relentless, unremitting, persistent, interminable romantic. He is a voracious reader who is blessed with an innate love of writing and who, after over 30 years, remains madly in love with the man of his dreams. So, it is no surprise then, that his passion in life is writing captivating and engaging romantic dramas about men who love men. He is committed to bringing his readers stories of real life, with multicultural characters, riveting plots, and of course, what we all desire…ever-lasting love. A multi-published, Rainbow Award winning author and a 2x LAMBDA Literary Finalist, he is also a funny, loving, family-oriented, and a proud member of the LGBTQ community. He is the founder of Cornbread Publishing Inc. Born in Boston, Massachusetts, Bryan and his husband of thirty-six years have made their home and life in the Central Valley of California. Author Website: https://www.btclark.com Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/btclarkauthor Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/BryanTClarkx2 Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/romanceauthor Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/53309216-far-away
Liz Faraim has a new contemporary lesbian thriller, Vivian Chastain book 2: Stitches and Sepsis. And there's a giveaway! Adrenaline addicted veteran, Vivian Chastain, confronts the man who has been following her for days, only to find he has a message of dire consequence for her. Spurred into action by his news, she barrels head on into a tumultuous and violent series of events. Stoic and stubborn, Vivian lands in the hospital, fighting for her life. During Vivian’s lengthy recovery, her partner is released from jail and the two reconnect, stoking up the flames of their toxic union all while Vivian dives into a blossoming relationship with a new love interest who offers fulfillment and love, if only Vivian can figure out how to allow it all in. Still on the mend, she learns that the coast is not clear as former threats return and continue to endanger her. While she cannot rest easy; friends, her work crew, and customers at the night club where she tends bar provide her with much needed fun, comradery, and support. Vivian wrestles with her temper, her penchant for physical violence, and her overwhelming emotional baggage. Struggles from within and without threaten her existence, and in the moment when death is just a breath away, Vivian’s brother shows up and changes everything. Warnings: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers, graphic violence, self-harm, references to PTSD, domestic abuse, animal abuse, homophobic slurs, sexual assault (reference to past), death of a secondary character Giveaway Liz is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour: Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47181/? Excerpt
“Show time,” I said and pushed open the massive wooden door at the nightclub where I worked, switching into the role of confident bartender. I swaggered in and was nearly bowled over by the bassline of Ciara’s “1, 2, Step” as it blared out of the speakers, rumbling in my chest. Buck, dressed in a perfectly starched security uniform, gave me a nod from her lectern in the narrow foyer. A line of women chatted excitedly as they waited for their turn at the lectern to pay the cover charge and get their hand stamp. “Excuse me,” I said as I squeezed past another cluster of women who were dancing and laughing animatedly. I hugged my tip bucket close to my chest so I didn’t accidently graze any of them. They shifted to make room for me to pass, and one of them growled playfully. The growl was followed by someone grabbing my ass firmly. I didn’t turn or even acknowledge the grope. Outside of work I would have shut that shit down, but here there was a certain amount of physicality to the job, albeit usually consensual. I knew damn well that later that night I’d strip off my beater and have women doing body shots off me, for a sizeable tip, of course, so I let it go and continued making my way through the crowd to my station at the front bar. Tick, the DJ, transitioned to “Candy Shop” by 50 Cent. The crowd funneled out of the front bar to the dance floor in the back, which gave me a quick break in the rush to relieve the bartender going off shift, count out my drawer, and set up the station the way I liked it. Jen, my barback, bounced up next to me with a big grin on her face. The unmistakable smell of weed wafted off her and I chuckled. She swung her long wallet chain around her finger and bumped hips with me. “Coyote Ugly, baby!” she said over the music. I nodded and gave her a big grin. Coyote Ugly nights were always raucous fun, which meant big tips. We counted on tips to survive, so Sunday night shifts were not to be missed. Jen slid an American Spirit cigarette behind her ear and winked a twinkling, bloodshot hazel eye at me. A customer stepped up to my station. I gave Jen a pat on the back and stepped up to the bar to get to work. The night built up in intensity as the crowd grew thick and the music got louder. Things peaked when Sheila, our boss, strutted along the top of the bar in heels, a fedora, thong and bra. She used Everclear to set the bar trough on fire, which whipped the women into a frenzy. Once Sheila’s performance was over, I helped her down and she waded into the crowd, hugging friends and talking to customers. Sly hands slipped dollar bills into her thong and bra as she passed by. Despite being a chilly February night, it was hot and humid inside the club because of the crush of dancing bodies. Sweating, I shed my beater so I was down to my sports bra. Removing my shirt was always lucrative because it drew more customers to my side of the bar. A woman in a silver sequined cocktail dress, hair and makeup on point, stepped up to my station and tried to talk to me over the noise. I leaned across the bar toward her and cupped my hand to my ear to signal that I hadn’t heard her. She smiled and drew in a breath. Before she could speak, the smile turned to a grimace and her hand shot out, clamping down on my wrist. Her manicured nails dug so deeply into my flesh her nails snapped and broke through my skin. My arm flared with pain, but I didn’t pull away because I knew something was wrong. Her eyes bulged and she froze, mouth agape. Concerned, I reached out and placed my other hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?” Her hand went limp on my arm and she dropped to the floor like a sack of rocks, knocking two other people down with her. There was a moment of relief as her nails slid out of my arm, but the relief was quickly followed by the stinging sensation of open wounds and blood ran down my hand. I leaned over the bar and peered down at the woman. She was seizing violently. The people around her all stepped back, cleared a small circle around her. I sprang over the bar and began pushing people farther away from her. “Buck!” I shouted over the music. “Buck!” I got up on my toes and looked toward Buck’s lectern. She was craning her neck in my direction and I waved her over urgently. Buck immediately began making her way through the crush of the crowd. People responded quickly when they saw her security uniform and shuffled out of the way. Author Bio
Liz has a full plate between balancing a day job, parenting, writing, and finding some semblance of a social life. In past lives she has been a soldier, a bartender, a shoe salesperson, an assistant museum curator, and even a driving instructor. She focuses her writing on strong, queer, female leads who don’t back down. Liz transplanted to California from New York over thirty years ago, and now lives in the East Bay. She enjoys exploring nature with her wife and son. Pronouns: She/Her Author Website: https://www.lizfaraim.com Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/elizabeth.loud.16/ Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/liz.faraim.9/ Author Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/FaraimLiz Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/20769735.Liz_Faraim Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/liz-faraim/
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