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RECENT RELEASE 
Book Title: Feral Hearts Author: A.J. Church Publisher: Nytshadow Publishing Cover Artist: Gigi at G-Cat Designs Release Date: July 17, 2026 Tense/POV: First person, dual POV Genres: Contemporary MM Romance Tropes: Enemies to lovers, slow burn, hurt/comfort, mutual obsession Themes: Bisexual awakening, mental health Length: 129,000 words/565 pages It is the first book in a standalone series and does not end on a cliffhanger. Heat Rating: 4 flames Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited 
There’s nothing closer to love than a good hatred. Blurb Aubie I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth, but I’ve never let that stand in the way of my two favorite past times–breaking hearts and disappointing my family. An ardent fan of the smooth line and shallow hookup, I excel at keeping things gliding on the surface. Feelings, when I have them, are reserved for the few I call friends. Until the night I walk into Club Eros and come face to face with Cutter Knight. Tall, dark, and mouthwateringly handsome, he’s also an uptight prick. Doesn’t stop me from wanting to toss all my rules out the window for just one taste. Cutter Once upon a time I was the golden boy of my family. Future planned out. Ducks all in a row. Then my idiot brother threw my world into a tailspin. Now I go out of my way to avoid his type, which is why I hate Aubie Gauthier. He’s a spoiled brat with an old money trust fund and a reputation for being a shameless slut. And for some reason he’s set his sights on me. I’m not gay, and even if I was, I wouldn’t be interested in someone like Aubie. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to matter to him. Excerpt from Chapter 1 “FIRST TIME?” I glance up at the tall hunk standing next to me and shake my head. “Don’t be nervous,” he says with a smile. “You’ll do fine.” “Oh, I’m not nervous.” More like excited. I’ve spent two days working on my routine. The biggest part of that was selecting my outfit. I chose a charcoal gray velvet jacket, sheer black shirt, slinky black silk pants and dance slippers. I kept my makeup to just some eyeliner and a little shadow. I’m going for a debaucherous lord of the manor aesthetic. I picked out my music–Parked Outside by the Afghan Whigs–and threw it on a thumbdrive for the DJ, then loaded everything in a suit bag. I stand when the stage manager calls my name and head through the short hallway to the front of the house. From the moment I stroll onto the stage and my music starts to play, I know I’m home. The mechanics of taking off my clothes are secondary to having all those eyes watching me undress, knowing that I’ll soon be naked in front of them. I nearly come before the first article of clothing hits the floor. After dancing provocatively for half a minute, I unbutton the jacket and flash my chest under the sheer black shirt while sliding the fingers of one hand into my mouth and sucking each one dry. When I’ve got their attention, I start to lose clothing. Jacket first. One shoulder at a time. Once it’s gone, I run my fingers down the front of the shirt, unbuttoning as I go. I dance like that for a chorus with my best bedroom eyes, daring the audience to look away. You don’t want to miss this. My hand slides down inside my waistband, making a show of cupping my stiffening cock before pulling on the drawstring to untie my pants. I bite my lip and offer a naughty grin as I let go of the string. The silky fabric slides down my legs to pool at my feet. I step out of them and strut over to the pole, arching my back and tangling my hands above my head as I start to writhe my back against it. The shirt slides off my shoulders and I let it drop to the floor, leaving me in nothing but the sheer thong. The flimsy garment barely contains my straining cock. I caress myself while I dance, lost in the music. Lost in the moment. The sexual tension in the room is exquisite. Like a bow string being pulled taut. The music vibrates against me and I grind my hips to its beat, letting my mouth drop open to rim my lips with a teasing tongue. Come taste me, my eyes say. I can feel it. They’re hungry for me. For me. Let’s give them what they want. I slide my hands down my chest to fondle my nipples, causing my cock to noticeably twitch. At this rate I’ll be making a mess on this stage. I move my hands down to my hips then turn away and rotate my hips, humping the air. Wishing I had a warm body to fuck right now. I can at least make them think I do. I slide my fingers under the thin straps of the thong and bend over to slowly roll it down my legs, baring my hole. I look over my shoulder to get their response. Now this is addictive. All those eyes, all this bare flesh. How could they possibly not want me? I turn to face my admirers, finally free to prowl the stage completely naked. And prowl I do, vacillating between bold, come hither looks and coy smiles with just enough of my inner slut to make my moves seductively feline. I know I hit the sweet spot when people start squirming in their seats. One man in the front row yells, “Oh honey, let me help you with that,” when I slide my finger over the head of my cock and bring it to my nose. I take a deep whiff before plunging the finger between my lips and moaning. Damn, I’m turning myself on. About the Author Growing up a military brat meant I was always the new kid in school, so my friends were often the characters I found in the books I read and later wrote. I love dreaming up bad boys and the trouble they can get into, and lucky for them, I’m a sucker for a well-earned happily ever after. Or at least a happily for now. Social Media Links
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