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Book Title: The Lake House Massacre Author: Chris Bedell Publisher: Baynam Books Cover Artist: Christy Aldridge Release Date: January 20, 2025 Tense/POV: Third Person, Past Tense Genres: YA LGBTQ Horror/Thriller (the main character is a bisexual male) Themes: Forgiveness vs Revenge, Trust Length: 30 000 words/172 pages Heat Rating: 2 flames It’s a standalone book. A sequel (Mother Mania) is coming out in March. There is a mild cliffhanger, but it wraps things up for the most part. The door is left open for the sequels. But a lot of questions get answers. Note from author: This book isn’t a romance book. But Tate’s ex-boyfriend, Nick, is a part of the plot. I can’t say much because of spoilers. Although I want to make it clear this isn’t a romance story because I don’t want people to expect a happy ending for Tate and Nick. It’s a horror/thriller story first and foremost. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited 
18-year-old high school senior Tate Robinson and his friends are spending Winter Break at Tate’s family’s lake house. But there’s a serial killer on the loose. Blurb 18-year-old Tate Robinson should focus on having a relaxing winter break with his friends. Their parents all agreed to let them spend several days at Tate's family's lake house without adult supervision. Instead, someone wearing a scarecrow mask stabs Tate's friend, Elijah, on the second day of the trip. Everyone remains at the lake house. At least temporarily. The body count starts rising after Elijah's death, though. So, if Tate and company want to survive the trip, they must uncover who's after them. And quickly. Furthermore, Tate must deal with his former fling, Nick, who tagged along by showing up at the lake house uninvited. Tate and Nick were supposed to be taking a break...they wanted different things. Tate hoped to keep their relationship casual because he was afraid of getting his heart broken. Meanwhile, Nick craved a real relationship. But just because Tate and Nick could reconcile doesn’t mean they should reunite. With a killer on the loose, Tate can’t be too careful about who he trusts. Excerpt Tate walked away from Nick, then grabbed his jean jacket on the rack by the door. The wind howled, stinging Tate’s face once Tate left the house. So much for Elijah claiming it wasn’t cold. Tate should’ve realized that Elijah downplayed the temperature. Snow crunched under Tate’s sneakers while he shuffled towards the woods. Nick could make breakfast, which he all wanted, but when Tate returned to the house with Elijah, he demanded that Nick go. If redirecting Nick’s focus didn’t work, Tate would try another strategy. He wouldn’t give up until Nick left. That simple. “Everything okay?” Tate asked after trekking deeper in the woods. He just found where Elijah was. And Tate had no idea why Elijah would be staring at a tree. Elijah whirled his body around. “Just wanted some time to myself.” “No problem.” Tate huffed, breath becoming visible once he exhaled. “But are you certain everything’s fine?” “No. But it will be.” Tate glared at Elijah. “Don’t give me that look. Nothing’s wrong. I just have a crush.” “Care to share?” Tate didn’t care about seeming nosey. Being best friends meant they could discuss anything with each other. Tate might even be able to help Elijah. Having a disastrous love life didn’t mean Tate couldn’t be there for his friends. He would. Perhaps his strained dynamic with Nick might provide insight to help Elijah with his current romantic problem. Just a thought, anyway. “I like Sydney as more than a friend.” Elijah tucked his hands into his jacket pockets. Tate gaped. “Wow.” Elijah blushed. “Please don’t say anything to her.” “I won’t.” “I’m serious, Tate.” While Tate understood that awkward stomach feeling better than anyone else, he didn’t need Elijah hassling him. Tate had nothing to gain from outing Elijah’s secret. Doing so wouldn’t have benefited Tate. Spilling personal secrets was also a shitty thing to do. And Tate would never stoop that low. Not ever. Tate beamed at Elijah. “You have my word.” “Good.” “Do you plan on telling her how you feel?” Tate asked. “I was hoping to be alone with her sometime during the trip. Just don’t know where even to begin.” “I’m sure you’ll find the right words.” “Thanks. That means a lot.” “Don’t mention it.” “How are things with Nick?” Elijah asked. Tate shouldn’t have been shocked by Elijah’s question. If Elijah’s love life could be dissected, then Tate imagined his romantic life would be scrutinized, too. Only fair. Being asked a question didn’t mean Tate had to answer it. Not if he didn’t want to. A lump lingered in Tate’s throat. “Don’t ask.” “Okay then.” “I wasn’t saying that to be snarky. I was being serious.” “I’m sure everything will work itself out. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, situations usually seem worse than they are.” “Maybe.” Tate’s teeth chattered. Perhaps visiting his family’s lake house during winter wasn’t the smartest idea. Tate’s heart thumped louder and faster. Something stole his attention from the corner of his eye. More specifically, someone. A person wearing a scarecrow mask stood behind Elijah. But someone wearing a disguise wasn’t why Tate’s pulse hadn’t slowed down. Sunlight glinting against the metal object the stranger held was why sweat coated Tate’s brow. Tate screamed. “Behind you, Elijah!” Elijah spun around, back now towards Tate. The person in the scarecrow mask lunged forward, stabbing Elijah in the throat. Blood spurted from the top of Elijah’s neck before he collapsed. A bright red color stained the snow near Elijah’s head. Disbelief swelled inside Tate. Someone couldn’t have murdered one of his best friends—the idea was unfathomable to Tate. Yet the dread coursing through his veins remained as palpable as the desperation from Nick during their earlier argument in the kitchen. So, Tate had two options. Fight the person who killed Elijah. Or run. About the Author Chris Bedell is the author of over twenty small press books. He also graduated with a B.A. in Creative Writing from Fairleigh Dickinson University in 2016. Author Link Giveaway Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win one of two ebook copies of my YA LGBTQ novel The Killing Game. It’s another teen slasher novel. 
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 To an observer it would appear Taren was casually looking around the patio at the restaurant decorations, glancing occasionally at Ian. It was probably obvious to people they were comfortable with each other and didn’t need the constant conversation that came with couples early in their relationship and dating. Ian wanted to lean back in his chair, enjoy the heat building in his pelvis, spread his legs wide, and invite Taren to do whatever the man desired. However, he couldn’t do that here, something that only fueled his excitement. The game was simple, Taren would push buttons, literally, and Ian had to endure the sensations coursing through him without outwardly letting on what he was feeling. His ass tightened and he forced himself to try and relax. “Are you enjoying our new little toy?” Taren asked, his voice low and husky. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table. God, Ian loved when Taren used that tone of voice. He moved his hands to the arms of the chair, gripping hard. “I-I do, s-sir.” Just when Ian thought he’d eject himself from the chair and hump the table leg the massager stilled once more. His body slowly, very slowly relaxed, but the heat between his legs was insistent as ever. The waiter picked that moment to show up with their food and a pitcher of ice-cold water. Ian chugged a glass and refilled it, drinking half but a little more slowly. Taren stuck the remote into his shirt pocket. “Remind me later and I’ll bring up the website the piercing technician referred me to. You can look at all the goodies available.” Ian smiled between bites of dinner. “I’m looking forward to that. A lot.” He quickly added, “Sir,” before taking another sip of beer and a few more bites of salad. It was time to jump into another conversation. “I’ve been thinking about your friends.”  Last day to pre-order at $2.99!      This week's snippet is from my upcoming release, Force Majeure.  Kevin shoved back, forcing Ian against the wall, hand on Ian’s chest applying enough pressure to restrain Ian. He spoke in Ian’s ear, his voice low. “You sure weren’t arguing a few nights ago when I manhandled you, boy.” Kevin gave Ian’s chest a pat before he let go and took a few steps back. “Taren’s the only person who calls me that,” Ian spat. Kevin winked. “Hmm, we’ll see.” He sighed and opened the door. “Maybe I’ll look at other locations for my company.” Ian shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets so Kevin wouldn’t see them shake. “Go ahead. As you can see, we’re not hurting.” He had to concentrate on every word to keep from stammering. “Maybe that’ll change.” Kevin smirked and walked out of the room, nodding to Jocelyn coming back in, as he passed her in the door to the outer office. Head on over to the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group for more snippets! Force Majeure is available in eBook and can be pre-ordered for $2.99. Release day is March 18 and it will be in Kindle Unlimited.
 Without really giving it any more thought, Linden leaned forward, pulling Tyler toward him at the same time. He brushed his lips lightly over Tyler’s a few times, then ran his tongue across Tyler’s lower lip. When Tyler groaned and got one hand up and fisted in Linden’s shirt to tug him even closer, Linden slid his tongue between Tyler’s lips. Linden let go of Tyler’s hand and inched his arm around Tyler’s waist. Tyler stretched out and leaned back until he was more under Linden. He groaned and arched against Linden, grinding their hips together. Linden broke their kiss, moaned softly, and licked along Tyler’s jawline. He nudged Tyler’s head back farther and sucked lightly along his neck, pausing to swirl his tongue over Tyler’s Adam’s apple. Tyler’s hands roamed up and down Linden’s back, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. They rocked together against each other, bodies heating, breath quickening, and in Linden’s case, heart hammering. Linden’s phone chimed. Reluctantly Linden pushed away from Tyler and murmured, “That’s Randy’s e-mail.” Tyler chuckled, and Linden felt his body vibrate beneath him. It was erotic, and Linden had to use every ounce of control not to rip both their clothes off and give whoever might be watching a real show. “Saved by the bell,” Tyler snickered. “You should check that, then we can pick up where we left off.” Linden flopped to the side and sat beside Tyler, pressed against him. He scooped up his phone and grumbled, “I’m going to get you for this, Randy.” That earned him deep, rich laughter from Tyler. “Me too. Should you really be kissing your suspects?” Linden swiped the phone’s screen and accessed his e-mail. He looked sideways at Tyler and smiled slyly. “It’s not standard procedure, and if you turn out to be guilty, I’ll make you regret it.” As he read the e-mail, he sat straighter and scooted away so there were a few inches of space between them. “What does it say?” Tyler sat up and turned to face Linden. “Linden?” “He found Dimas.” All Linden could think was how much he hoped he didn’t have to say the words. Tyler’s expression sobered immediately. He stared into Linden’s eyes, and Linden bit down on his lower lip for a second. “He’s not alive, is he?” Tyler asked softly. Linden shook his head. “I’m really sorry, Tyler.” Tyler stood up and paced away. “I need…. I….” His voice trailed off, and he stepped out of the pit and went to his apartment.  🌸 Soak up the springtime vibes with the Peachy PAs Spring Break Giveaway! 🌸 Entering is easy: > visit https://tinyurl.com/peachyspring1 to enter > follow me, and other authors, on Amazon > come back every day for bonus entries Prizes include a Kindle e-reader, paperbacks, and ebooks from participating authors. Good luck, bookworms!      As he’d done at the coffee shop, Forge stepped ahead and opened the door to his suite, waving grandly for Blair to enter. Moose trotted in, heading straight for a round, dark table a few feet from the door. There was a copper coffee set in the middle. Blair walked in and stopped, taking a look around. This man, Forge, was an enigma and the biggest study in contrasts Blair could imagine. Forge set the box on the table beside the coffee set. He tossed his car keys into the sugar bowl and lifted the top of the coffee pot, pulling out a dog treat. “Who’s my best boy?” Moose sat and woofed, catching the treat out of the air. He munched it happily, then sat and woofed again, making Blair laugh. Forge threw the dog another morsel. “Is that an antique?” Blair asked. “Yeah. One of Simon’s attempts to civilize me. Makes a convenient dog treat container. Boiled coffee is the pits. I like coffeemakers or a French press. Old is not always best.” Blair laughed when yet another treat sailed through the air. “He has you well trained.” Forge arched an eyebrow and nodded, grinning sheepishly. “You have a nice laugh. I like it,” he said and took off his leather jacket, hanging it on a coat rack near the door. “You can look around. Be comfortable. I only bite the tender parts.” When Blair sucked in a breath and stared, Forge held both hands in the air. “Joke.” “Funny,” Blair said. What he really wanted to say was damn. The sitting room had a deep green sectional couch facing the fireplace, with high end tables and a long, narrow table against the back. The floors, like Simon’s, were hardwood, finished to a soft luster. Instead of Oriental rugs, there were oval, braided lodge-type mats in deep burgundy and dark green. “No coffee table. Tail,” Forge explained and pointed at Moose. A stereo system, just as kickass as the one he’d seen in Simon and Ben’s suite, sat in one corner. Hanging on the walls were prints of nebulas and star clusters. Another section was a collection of photos of all sorts of dogs. Some of the photos were older, and all of them had different types of frames. Several were actually sketches, not photos. None of the dogs were purebreds. “Moose’s predecessors. The ones I have pictures of, anyway,” Forge said quietly. He moved about, unpacking the box. He carried the food containers into one of the bedrooms. “Declan did the drawings and paintings.” “Who is Declan?” Forge avoided eye contact and said, “The guy who is the artist.” There was more to it than that; Forge’s explanation was too thinly veiled. Blair felt how it bothered Forge to talk about this Declan person. He sensed it would be a case of waiting for more information to be offered. Asking for too much more right then wouldn’t get Blair anywhere. An American flag hung on each of the three walls between the bedrooms, encased in glass. Blair counted the stars on each. “Are these real?” “Yep, authentic, and were new when I bought them.” “And a real Confederate flag? You were a Reb?” Blair gazed at the flag, also in glass hung to one side of the fireplace. Wouldn’t it be just his luck to hook-up with a man who thought what that flag represented was okay. Beneath it was a framed newspaper article. Blair squinted at the heading, Little Big Horn. Forge laughed. “Hell, no I wasn’t a Reb. That flag is from Sherman’s March. Not our finest hour, by the way. I keep that and a few other things as reminders of bad times. People tend to get rid of pieces of history they don’t like. Problem is, then a generation or two later no one remembers the cruelty represented by those symbols, or worse yet, glorifies them. There are events I witnessed and I don’t want to forget why they happened in the first place.” He sighed. “So, I have a Confederate flag, a few Nazi propaganda posters, that article about Little Big Horn and a copy of a book Custer wrote, reminders like that.” Blair relaxed and moved closer to the fireplace and mantle. Mounted over the fireplace were two Calvary sabers, blades crossed. Above them were three rapiers, from ornate to simple in design. “Those are cool, they’re from Europe?” “French, 1700s.” “Are they yours?” Blair asked. Again, Forge avoided meeting Blair’s gaze directly. One quick headshake was the only answer offered. The name Declan popped into his head. No matter how hard he tried, Blair couldn’t get away from that name. Blair moved along the mantle, looking closely at the line of small, clear cases, each holding a gun. On each end of the rough stone mantle sat a bugle. Blair rested his fingertips on the mantle near one of the bugles. “This one’s old, Civil War?” “Hmm, maybe. I was a bugler during World War One, that was handed down to me from an older soldier.” “Older than you?” Forge chuckled. “Not really, but he looked older. The other one I used in Korea.” That made Blair smile. “You play the trumpet, too?” A quick glance back and Blair saw Forge grin and shrug.    BLOG TOUR 
Book Title: Stolen Dream Author: Oliver Takely Publisher: MM Romance Press Cover Artist: Emily’s World of Design Release Date: March 5, 2025 Tense/POV: Third person, dual POV Genres: Contemporary MM Romance Tropes: Forbidden love, first times, demisexual rep, found family Themes: Second chance romance Heat Rating: 4 flames Length: 60 000 words It is book three of the Soho Knights Series. Books four and five are scheduled in 2025. The book ends on a cliffhanger for the series, but not for the couple. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited 
In a world that tried to change them, love becomes their greatest rebellion. Blurb At just eighteen, Paolo and Max meet at a conversion therapy camp. Abandoned by their families. left to endure literal hell on earth, their love is forbidden. Their secret romance grows and as they make plans to escape, they are brutally torn apart. They both spend the next twelve years building lives in different worlds. Paolo in the vibrant heart of Soho, London, surrounded by his found family, and Max thriving as a successful criminal lawyer in the bustling streets of New York. Both of them believing they’ve lost the love of their life forever. Max finds himself in London after defending a mobster, which leads to an offer he literally can’t refuse. Needing thinking time before his fate is sealed, he unexpectedly crosses paths with Paolo again. The spark between them reignites, yet their reunion is fraught with challenges, and even the magical backdrop of the holidays may not be enough for them to get their second chance at love. With Paolo's sister at risk of suffering the same fate they endured, the stakes are even higher. Stolen Dream is a tale of resilience, forbidden love, and the fight for a future that embraces who they truly are. Will they save Paolo's sister in time, and can they find a way to be together, against all odds? Join them on this emotional journey of hope and redemption, where stolen dreams may just lead to a love worth fighting for. Excerpt KC greeted Paolo with a big hug when he arrived. She was such a wonderful woman, who had been through more than all his brothers put together. The bravery it took for her to transition in the nineties had Paolo in awe of her. “What are you doing here on a Saturday?” “I’m meeting an . . . an old friend.” “Old boyfriend?” She smiled. Paolo felt his face heating. She leant forward and whispered to him. “Well, if it’s the guy who just walked in who looks like he wants to eat you, then I think I’ve got my answer.” Paolo spun around and there was Max. He hadn’t gotten a proper look last night with the shock. Max had always had a broad build, but now he was built like a rugby player, with wide shoulders and a tapered waist. His hazel eyes were as captivating as they had been twelve years ago. Max smiled at him, showing those perfect dimples in his pinchable cheeks. He was clean-shaven, unlike Paolo who’d had a short beard for the last five years. His face was too babyish when he was clean-shaven. “Can I give you a hug?” asked Max. Paolo was too choked up, so he just nodded, and Max wrapped his big, muscular arms around him. They were the same height, but even though Paolo had packed on the muscle over the last few years, Max almost smothered him – albeit in a good way. He was wearing a citrusy aftershave, and he could happily stay like this in Max’s arms forever. When the hug was bordering on being far too long for a public setting, they pulled apart and both smiled. Paolo gestured to a nearby table he’d claimed when he arrived. He made eye contact with KC, who gave him a warm smile and touched her heart. Paolo rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Thank you for seeing me,” said Max. Was he nervous? This wasn’t how he remembered him. Max had been the strong one when they’d been in the camp. It wasn’t just Paolo who looked up to him; it was everyone. Paolo wasn’t sure what to say. He felt tongue tied, so he grabbed a menu, passing one to Max. He knew the menu by heart, but Max didn’t need to know that. “Did you want to get something to eat?” asked Paolo. That was a safe conversation starter. “I am always hungry.” He smiled, and then a dark shadow appeared in his eyes. It was clear a memory had hit him. One they shared. Paolo needed to get things back on track. Today was not a day to go down memory lane. “Everything’s amazing here. KC is the best cook in the world.” “That’s a bold claim. I’ll have to let Mason know.” “Mason?” “He’s a Michelin starred chef in New York.” “How do you know him?” Max took hold of Paolo’s hand. It felt strange, yet familiar. “Mason’s just a friend. I’m not with anyone.” “That’s not . . . I didn’t mean . . .” Ugh, why couldn’t he get his words out? Perhaps sensing his struggle, Max suggested they order. He let go of Paolo’s hand and Paolo missed the touch instantly. How could this be happening? He’d not had butterflies or any of these feelings for twelve years. About the Author Oliver Takely is a passionate MM romance author who revels in dark, edgy stories featuring complex, flawed characters. With years of writing experience and a creative day job, Oliver Takely is also an avid reader of MM romance, consuming 300 books in both 2023 and 2024. His favourite trope is enemies to lovers, but is also a sucker for a feel-good Christmas romance. Originally from the north, Oliver now resides in the south of England with his husband and their beloved fur baby, who is treated like a princess, living their own happily-ever-after straight out of a romance novel. When not writing or reading, he enjoys holidays and indulging in lots of good food, because who doesn’t love a delicious combination? Author Links Website | Facebook | Instagram 
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Book Title: Demon’s Past Author and Cover Artist: Shari Sakurai Publisher: Farnhurst Publishing Release Date: March 7, 2025 Tense/POV: third person, alternating POV Genres: MM Paranormal/vampires Tropes: Friends to lovers Themes: Coming out Heat Rating: 1 flame Length: 77 000 words It is not a standalone story, but you do not need to have read the other books in the series to enjoy it. It does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited 
Immortality has its price Blurb April 1889, Nagasaki, JAPAN When apprentice merchant Thane Bremen travels with his family to Nagasaki, he is more excited about the exotic destination than studying his trade. A chance encounter with a local man gives Thane the opportunity to learn more about the culture of Japan. Kokawa Taku is unlike anyone Thane has ever met before. He is outgoing, charming, spontaneous and Thane finds himself instantly drawn to him. Taku opens Thane’s eyes to new experiences, and perhaps a different future to the one that is mapped out for him. When their friendship turns into romance, Thane struggles with his father’s expectations for him and how the society he is from would view his relationship with Taku. As they become closer, Thane learns that Taku is a vampire. With this, he begins to understand just what it means for them both. Taku will live forever, and Thane’s life will be over in a comparative blink of an eye. While Thane contemplates what it is to love the immortal, a disaster strikes that threatens to part them sooner than either of them thought was possible. Excerpt “Those who come to worship at the shrine must first use the water basin to purify themselves,” Taku explained as he knelt in front of the structure. Thane watched as he used one of the wooden ladles available to wash his hands, left first and then right. He cupped some of the water to rinse out his mouth. He did not swallow the water and spat it out next to the fountain. Finally, he dipped the handle of the ladle into the basin to clean it. Thane did not hesitate in following his companion’s example. Taku smiled in appreciation of his actions. He then led the way up the path towards the main shrine. Taku slipped his shoes off before climbing the steps. Thane followed him and unlaced his boots. This part of the shrine was called the Haiden – hall of worship – Taku explained. Thane looked around, amazement at the intricate detail of the hall filling him. There were beautifully crafted paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling, incredibly detailed religious carvings and inscriptions either on wooden blocks or paper. “This is beautiful,” Thane stated softly. “The haiden is open to the public for worship,” Taku explained. “The heiden – hall of offerings – is behind it and then the honden where the God is enshrined. The God enshrined here is Ebisu, the God of luck and fishermen, which is quite appropriate for Nagasaki.” “Can we visit the honden?” “It is most usually closed to the general public, but I do not see the harm in showing you.” Taku was about to lead the way further into the shrine when he suddenly stopped. “What is it?” Thane asked. “There is someone outside.” Thane had not heard anyone, however, he quietly followed Taku as he crept towards the edge of the veranda to retrieve their shoes. “Who is it?” Thane whispered anxiously. “The police,” Taku’s tone was casual, and he did not appear unduly concerned. “The police!” Thane did not share his calm. “Why?” “There have been instances where items have been stolen from the shrines. Someone must have noticed us going in and reported it as it is rather late for worship.” “We are just looking around. Can you explain that to them?” “They believe the thief to be a foreigner and considering opinion on the western influences it would not be good to be found here,” Taku slipped his shoes on and kept watch whilst Thane did likewise. “What shall we do?” Thane could now clearly see a light from a candle. They were still closer to the torii gates but gradually the light was moving in their direction. “Follow me,” Taku quietly stepped off the veranda. He led Thane around the back of the shrine and towards the perimeter fence surrounding it. Thane glanced doubtfully up at the wooden barrier. With the lights from the shrine behind them he did not know if he could see well enough to climb over. Taku did not share his hesitation. He had to jump to catch hold of the top of the fence but did so with surprising ease. With a grace that Thane had feeling he would envy, Taku pulled himself up and over. “Thane, come on!” he called. The voices were drawing closer now and it was only a matter of time before they were seen. Thane was tall enough to be able to grip the fence without the need for the small jump. He scrambled up the side of it, but with a lot less grace than his companion. The shout that went up as Thane reached the top startled him. He heard a ripping of fabric as he lost his balance and landed in a painful heap on the safe side of the fence. “Are you alright?” Taku enquired as he helped Thane up. “Yes, thank you,” he carefully stood, feeling some discomfort from the landing but no serious injuries. “Good because I believe that we may have to run,” Taku commented in amusement. As Taku spoke, Thane heard the two policemen shouting again. He glanced down the street in the direction of the noise and saw that they had exited the shrine and were hurrying towards them. “This way,” Taku took a hold of Thane’s hand and started pulling him away from the shrine. Thane once more questioned the wisdom in fleeing, but he did not wish to get into any bother. His father might well put him on the first ship home if he did. “Where are we going?” he asked. Even though Thane was following him, Taku did not let go of his hand. Thane did not consider himself an unfit man, but the pace that Taku set was faster than he was used to running. In fact, Thane was surprised that his feet did not leave the ground all together at the speed in which they were going. Thane almost tripped as Taku suddenly changed direction and pulled him in between two buildings. Thane felt his back hit the side of the first wooden structure. Taku was beside him, their shoulders touching as he gestured for Thane to remain pressed against the wall. Thane heard the two men running past their location. After a few minutes more he felt he could breathe a sigh of relief. Thane cast his gaze downwards to Taku’s hand that still gripped his own. A spark of what he could only describe as adrenaline went through him as he stared at their entwined fingers. Thane felt the warmth of a blush on his cheeks at the sensation and he gently pulled away. About the Author Shari Sakurai is a British author of paranormal, horror, science fiction and fantasy novels that almost always feature a LGBTQ protagonist and/or antagonist. She has always loved to write and it is her escape from the sometimes stressful modern life! Aside from writing, Shari enjoys reading, watching movies, listening to (loud!) music, going to rock concerts and learning more about other societies and cultures. Japanese culture is of particular interest to her and she often incorporates Japanese themes and influences into her work. Shari loves a challenge and has taken part and won the National Novel Writing Month challenge thirteen times! Social Media Links Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads 
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Lily laughed. “It’s not mine. I just work there.” She picked a cylinder from a tray on a telescope and held it up. “Did you know that when you look at the stars you’re looking back in time? This is called a Barlow Lens. It basically boosts a telescope’s capacity. I have some brochures in the other room, let me get you some.” “That sounds fun, and she’s nice,” Val said after Lily left the room. “I think you just made a friend for life.” Wyatt turned when he heard movement behind him, expecting to see Lily had returned. It wasn’t Lily, and the person who now confronted him caused him to square his shoulders, straighten his spine, and sidestep so he was between the newcomer and Val. “Kevin,” Wyatt said. It was an effort to keep his tone cordial. “Wyatt,” Kevin replied, voice tight. His gaze slid almost at once to Val, who’d turned away from the telescopes, taken a few steps toward them, and froze. “This is Kevin Fells,” Wyatt said, turning far enough to look at Val. “Vladimir Mihalic, my fiancé.” Val stepped forward, held out his hand, and shot Wyatt a curious look. Clearly he caught the fact Wyatt introduced him as Vladimir not Val. He smiled at Kevin. Kevin looked Val up and down, shrugged, and walked to the bar. He snatched a glass from the table and a bottle of whiskey from the bar. He poured more than a shot’s worth into the glass and downed it, then poured another one. Wyatt resisted the urge to shake his head. Kevin had already smelled of booze when he came in, and his eyes were bloodshot. “So, my brother is barely cold in his grave and you get yourself a brand new boy toy.” Kevin’s voice was so cold Wyatt had to make a conscious effort not to shudder. The smile slid off Val’s face. His arm dropped to his side. It took Wyatt a few seconds to recover and react. Closing the distance between them fast enough that Kevin wouldn’t have time to back away, Wyatt grabbed Kevin by one arm and pulled them together. He used a hard enough grip and jerked down with enough pressure Kevin gasped. “You never even came to Jack’s funeral, and I’ll wager you don’t even know where his grave is,” Wyatt said in a low voice. “Don’t talk to me like I’m the one who did anything wrong. I’m the person who took care of him right to the end.” “Hey, hey, don’t.” Val had one arm between them, pushing back against Wyatt’s chest. “It’s not worth it.” Wyatt ignored Val. When Kevin tried yanking free, Wyatt tightened his hold. “Don’t you ever talk to him”—he dipped his head at Val—“like that again. Better not forget I know a helluva lot about you that Lily doesn’t, and I’m sure you never want her finding those facts out.” He let go of Kevin, giving him a shove, and stepped back at the same time. “You can’t threaten me,” Kevin snarled. “Funny, I think I just did,” Wyatt snapped back. “And that’s not a threat; it’s a promise.”  A Barlow Lens is available in eBook, paperback and through Kindle Unlimited.  One simple act could change your life. Ian Groden and Taren Murdoch have a good life. Their marriage is solid, and their Dom/sub lifestyle makes for an amazing and extra spicy sex life. Meeting with another man, Kevin, on occasion adds another level of excitement to their marriage. For Ian, the only thing better than one Dom is two! Taren loves watching Ian being dominated by Kevin. Ian craves complete submission to Taren when they’re alone again. Problems arise when Kevin decides he doesn’t want to remain the casual third man. He puts in motion a plan to drive a wedge through Taren and Ian’s relationship, forcing them to fight for each other and their marriage. Can they put their life back together and regain what could be lost?  NEW RELEASE 
Book Title: Blade Broken (The Echelon Book 1) Author and Publisher: Niranjan Cover Artist: Artscandre Release Date: March 4, 2025 Pairing: MM (MF minor) Tense/POV: Third person/past tense/alternating PoV Genres: Sword and Sorcery, Political Fantasy Tropes: Assassins, spies, political intrigue. Not a romance. Has secret siblings, former friends turned enemies becoming lovers again, but it’s just a part of the story. Themes: Political fantasy with morally grey and complex characters, themes of forgiveness, redemption, found family are present Length: 75 504 words/335 pages Heat Rating: No sexual content. Not a romance. Some kissing and fade to black It is the first book in the series and is not a standalone book. Buy Links 
A spy lurking in the shadows, a nation on the verge of an invasion, a man desperate to protect his home. Blurb Lucian is the Blade of Castrial–the kingdom's spymaster and first line of defence, lauded for his success in repelling an invasion from Garaner. But the war has left Castrial's economy in shambles, and when the neighbouring kingdom of Sarian musters their armies and sends spies into Castrial, Lucian realises two things: they have a spy in their midst, and they can't afford the cost of fighting off another invasion. And if that wasn't trouble enough, there is Alaric, the Shield of Castrial and the only man in the Echelon whose power is equal to Lucian's. Returned from banishment like the vengeful spirit of their long-lost relationship, Alaric carries a deep-set grudge against Lucian, a grudge that may well be justified. Lucian’s desire to protect his nation is nearly equal to his wish to reconcile with Alaric, but if he cannot get his act together and convince the Shield to work with him, Castrial will fall. Blade Broken is a queer, sword-and-sorcery fantasy and the first book in The Echelon Series. If you love flawed characters, betrayals and redemption, and gritty worldbuilding with lots of political machinations, you will love this book. Video Trailer on Youtube Excerpt “You’re here,” the King said, waving Lucian and Alaric to their seats while Astra took her position behind him. “I was about to pronounce the sentence.” Alaric was alarmed at the King’s tone. His Majesty looked angry, lips pressed together and face red. His form was stiff. “Your Majesty,” he said. “I’ve never seen a prisoner behave as that man did today. Not only did he admit to committing the crime, but he also didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with it!” The King’s hand gripped the sceptre set on to the side of his throne tightly. His voice was hard and cold. “He had no remorse for what he did. A human life was cut short, and he seems to think of it as no matter. Because the man was a commoner. As if that’s what matters!” Alaric bit his tongue, stopped himself from speaking. Anything he might say now would cause more harm than good. Lord Giles was not the kind of man who deserved anyone’s sympathy. All the same, Alaric was worried about his family. The King had promised leniency, but with how Lord Giles behaved during the trial, how much could he depend on it? Lucian seemed to be under some internal struggle himself. Alaric had to remember that Lord Giles’ family was as good as Lucian’s own now. If the King sentenced him to death or exile, he would have to arrange for Lucian to smuggle them out of Castrial. But with Sylvester compromised and not able to live in Garaner anymore, where could they go? There was always Ihweith, or another nation across the ocean which were on friendly terms with Castrial and where an immigrant Castrilian noble and his family would be safe. Why didn’t Lucian or Sylvester do it? Was it because they feared Alaric wouldn’t let go? That they thought his hatred of Lord Giles was so intense that he would pursue them no matter where they went? No other explanation presented itself and he couldn’t help how his lips twisted at the thought. He wished that Lucian had trusted him enough to know that he wouldn’t have pursued them if they had escaped. Not even Lord Giles. Did he really believe Alaric had become so vindictive? The King made a gesture that opened the curtains that hid them all. He stood up and walked to the edge of the stage. “My dear subjects,” he said quietly, his voice amplified by a spell. “We have tried Lord Giles and have found him guilty of the crime he is charged with. He deserves the worst punishment for his crime, but his son, Sylvester has been selflessly serving Castrial for farials and deserves consideration. I exempt Sylvester Giles from the punishment meted out to his family. Lord Giles and his family are hereby sentenced to slavery for life, to be sold in public auction to the highest bidder within two days.” He stepped back, the curtains slid back, and the spell dissipated. Alaric couldn’t speak or move. Slavery. Public auction. He wasn’t sure if the King was being merciful or vindictive. It was better than death, better even than exile, but that didn’t make it all right. It would depend on the master, after all. And Keylin and Benjamin... Both of them were young, beautiful, and Alaric couldn’t be certain that they would be safe in any noble’s household. “Alaric,” the King said. “Stay. All the rest of you, leave.” Lucian, Astra, and Jeron bowed to the King before leaving through the door at the back. The stage was set with so many wards that no one outside would be able to hear anything they speak in here, not even if they were listening at the door or used magical means to eavesdrop. “I want you to buy them.” The King’s gaze was hard. “Bid first. No one will bid against you.” “Your Majesty!” Not that he hadn’t thought of it, but he would not have expected the king to take a hand in an auction. “I know it revolts you, that there are no slaves in your household, but you have to do this.” The King paused. “I know I promised to be lenient, but this is the extent of my leniency. If he had shown any remorse...” The King shook his head, pressing his lips together. “All the same, the family is innocent and must be protected. There is no one else I can trust.” About the Author An author and editor, Niranjan’s biggest ambition is to have a character named Garth in every book they write. Niranjan writes books rooted in mythical worlds, and their stories are often a combination of magic and futuristic technology. When they are not writing or editing, Niranjan can be found cooking or just lying on their couch watching or rewatching C Dramas and writing fan-fiction. Author Links Blog/Website | BlueSky | Newsletter Sign-up Ko0fi Character art and Map available for free) 
Giveaway Enter the Rafflecopter giveaway to win one of five ebook copies of choice from the author's backlist 
 Linden leaned back in his chair and continued to study Tyler. It was unsettling to say the least. Tyler had to put a lot of effort into meeting Linden’s gaze without wavering. If he flinched away from events in his past and didn’t set the record straight, Linden would never trust him or believe in him. Tyler desperately wanted Linden to believe in him, trust him, and be his friend, though he wasn’t sure why. “Tell me about Dimas Praede. You did have sex with him.” It wasn’t exactly phrased like a question, but Tyler nodded and whispered, “Yes.” The cold in Tyler’s chest was replaced by unexpected anger surging through him. “What did you come here for?” He slammed his palm on the table and noticed immediately that Linden didn’t so much as twitch. “You decided I was guilty before you walked through that door, so why not just arrest me now?” “I told you before, if I thought you should be arrested, you would have been. Are you guilty?” “No!” Tyler snapped. “I wasn’t then, and I’m not now.” “I’m trying to find out the truth about what happened to a man. Both of his former boyfriends are nowhere to be found, and the only link I have to them and him is you.” Linden glanced down for a few seconds before looking Tyler in the eye again. “Tell me everything from the beginning. Explain to me why you weren’t guilty when the law said you were.” He picked up Tyler’s bottle of beer and held it out to him. “If you did something wrong, you’ll pay. If not, I’m on your side.” Tyler slowly pulled one hand out from under the table and gripped the beer bottle, then took a sip. He nodded. “No one ever really wanted my side of the story. It was all pretty cut and dried at the time. I did it. I paid.” Linden reached out and squeezed Tyler’s wrist for a few seconds before turning back to his chili and digging his spoon in for more. The gesture was kind and completely took Tyler by surprise and threw him off guard. Maybe that’s exactly what it was meant to do. “Tell me,” Linden prompted again. “Okay.” Tyler took a few more deep breaths and a big swig of beer, then began. “There was this mom-and-pop food truck that was on my way home from school. I’d stop there two, three times a week for at least one meal. I’m standing in line, and I meet a guy.” “Dimas Praede?” “Yeah. We started to talk. Then I begin running into him once or twice a week. Eventually we start taking our food and sitting in a nearby park, eating together. He told me he was in school, but since he was eighteen, I thought he meant trade school or college. We’d been dating a few months before I found out he attended the school I was employed in as a teacher. It was a big enough school, and since I was part of the specialized program, I didn’t spend much time with the main student body.” “And it never once came up? You didn’t ask what school he went to? He didn’t ask where you worked?” “Dimas was eighteen, and I was twenty-four. We didn’t talk a lot. Did you talk a lot to your love interest at those ages?” Linden snorted a laugh and folded his hands together, resting his chin against his knuckles. He grinned and gave Tyler a mischievous look. “No. I did not.”    |
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