Blair held up his phone. “I’ll get a text in a minute or two pointing us toward any phone or computer our perps use.” Forge’s gaze went from Blair to the server, then swept the room and landed on Blair again. “Huh.” “One or two more steps and then I’ll show you how it works.” Blair headed back into the hall, Forge trailing behind after pulling the door closed and making sure it was locked. “Now what?” Forge asked as they walked through the dining area. Blair found a table close to the middle and settled in a chair. “I could go for a coffee. They have pumpkin pie spice.” He nodded at a handwritten sign beside a coffee shop. Forge turned and looked toward the sign, then focused on Blair. “Nothing more than a couple enjoying their day.” Blair nodded. “Pay in cash.” Forge wandered to the coffee shop and stood in line. Every time Blair glanced in his direction, he could tell Forge was keeping an eye on him. A few minutes later Forge returned and set a large cup of steaming hot liquid in front of Blair. He settled in the chair beside Blair and sipped from his own steaming cup, which smelled of espresso and chocolate. “I have to do a few things on my phone first,” Blair said softly. Leaning back in his chair, Forge rested his ankle on his other knee and pulled out his own phone. After a minute he grinned and said, “Sweet. I can get all sorts of live sports feeds on this.” Blair glanced up and smiled. “I like to give special gifts too.” “I knew I loved you for more than your pretty face.” People walked by them, but no one lingered or appeared to pay a bit of attention to either man. Blair sipped his coffee while he worked. “Okay, now for all the details,” Blair said. Forge stood up. “Come on.” “Where are we going?” “Somewhere we won’t be easily overheard.” Forge waited for Blair to tuck his phone away before he motioned to the hotel’s front door. They took their coffees and walked casually onto the street. “There’s a shopping center about a half mile from here. We can try that.” Walking in silence, Blair knew from the way Forge glanced in store windows and pointed out various landmarks or other things of interest that they weren’t being followed. Blair realized Forge was so adept at knowing his surroundings such tactics had become second nature. The shopping center was an open-air type. They wandered among shops and restaurants to a miniature park with benches and a fountain. Blair sat on one of the benches, close to the cascading water. “Declan, can you hear me?” “Only in my earbud,” Declan said. “Where’s our target?” Forge asked and sat beside Blair. “Mr. Wrong and Mr. Very Wrong are sitting at the bar beside the lobby, but they aren’t paying any attention to each other,” Lucas said. Quarry is available in eBook, paperback and through Kindle Unlimited. This week's snippet is from Strays, a scifi MM Romance. There was a long, empty stretch of what looked like road between two buildings and Kyle headed for that, hoping he could double around and back to Daniel. He realized too late it was a wharf, jutting out into the lake. He stopped long enough to see the path behind him blocked, tiny bits of water slithering down his neck and back, causing him to shiver. The government agents were running at him; he had nowhere to go. Kyle realized if they had to follow him down the length of the wharf, they’d likely spread out; he might be able to dodge around them and back to solid land. If that didn’t work, it would at least give the Militia assault team more time to reach him. He didn’t have much choice he could see other than go farther onto the wharf. As soon as he cleared the shelter of the buildings, he was hit with sharp, cold winds coming off the lake. A split second later he learned the truth about black ice: you really didn’t see it until you were sliding across it. His feet found no purchase and Kyle’s legs spun out from under him. There were a few moments of the sickening feeling of being without gravity and not knowing up from down; then he hit the water and was plunged into frigid cold and dark. Read more snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group. Strays is available in eBook and through Kobo Plus.
Boggslake, Ohio, might look like a normal city on the surface, but an unseen war is being fought away from the eyes of most of the population. From their stronghold, Boggs's Castle, an eclectic team of vampires, werewolves, and other supernaturals fight to keep humanity safe from the things that go bump in the night. More than a team, these men grow into a family, and they’ll need to rely on each other’s strength, because their true enemy is deadlier than they could’ve ever imagined. Excerpt from Electric Candle “Oh, shit.” Blair was out of the chair and heading for the stairs. “Ben, wait! There’s more than….” Blair heard the back door open and Moose run out. Boggs appeared for a split second, then was gone. Moose charged across the steps and down to the yard. He was barking, snarling furiously. “Blair, it’s not—” Ben’s words were cut off. Blair froze at the bottom of the stairs, listening intently and hearing a human and canine heartbeat. The back door flew open, crashing into the wall, and Blair was confronted with the same man who’d followed him the day before. Turning on his heels, Blair dashed as fast as possible through the house to the front. Doors opened, and Boggs appeared again, wearing a military uniform, and brandishing a saber. He shouted and charged the man. The man evaporated, replaced by a thick, black cloud that met Boggs head on. The two collided. There was a screeching that sent Blair to his knees. He clapped his hands over his ears, trying to dull the sound. Cabinet doors opened, and loose objects in the room took flight. In the next instant, Boggs and the cambion vanished. Blair staggered to his feet, and ran to the back door, shouting, “Ben!” He skidded to a stop when the man materialized in front of the door. Smirking, he shook his head and held something up in one hand. Blair backpedaled, tripped over the kitchen chairs, and threw them at his assailant as he ran. The chairs bounced off the man but didn’t stop him. Something stabbed Blair’s back, making it sting, followed by a sharp pain that spread through him, making his arms and legs heavy and his mind cloud. He twisted as he fell onto his back, feebly putting a hand up. It was useless. His attacker advanced on him and gripped Blair’s hand effortlessly. Fighting to stay conscious, to keep his eyes open, was impossible. Blair’s hand was gripped viciously by the cambion. The world faded into grays and black as the creature evaporated once again. This time taking Blair with him. SERIES TOUR NEW RELEASE Book Title: Bleed In The Night (Blood and Bonds #2) Author: S. J. Coles Publisher: Pride Publishing Release Date: February 27, 2024 Genre: Paranormal/Vampire/Contemporary M/M Romance Tropes: Enemies to Lovers/BDSM Themes: Overcoming demons/identity Length: 55 711 words/223 pages Heat Rating: 4 flames It is Book 2 in the ‘Blood and Bonds’ series. This book ends on a series cliffhanger, but with a HFN for the couple in the story. Buy Links It’s not just fear keeping Tyler up at night…and that’s what frightens him. Blurb Tyler Lomax met Lucien, supposedly the oldest haemophile in existence, on a dark night in the depths of winter. Tyler was protesting against Baron Emory Von Magnusson taking possession of a human child. He thought he’d been doing the right thing—fighting against evil, against fear. Lucien had almost killed him for it. Now it’s months later, and Tyler hasn’t slept since. Tyler wants Lucien found. When the authorities fail him, he feels forced to take matters into his own hands. Tyler’s contact ‘Damon’ doesn’t call himself a ‘vampire hunter’, but that is exactly what Tyler intends to pay him to be. What Tyler doesn’t bank on is having Lucien at his mercy, forcing him to confront what’s really consuming him. Tyler will not only have to face what he is feeling but finally open his mind to a perspective other than his own. He just has to pray that opening up to Lucien won’t bleed him dry before he realizes the truth. Excerpt Summer was at its height. York hadn’t felt a breath of wind or a drop of rain in weeks. Even at night, the air was still and heavy, like it was choked by a storm waiting to break. But the weather wasn’t the reason Tyler couldn’t sleep. It had been the same every night for weeks. As soon as he switched the light off, he was back on Askham Moor. Hands stronger than iron crushed his body. Adrenaline coursed through his veins like venom. The smell of his own urine was sharp in his nostrils. He could hear his own voice bleeding out of him, freezing and dying in the cold night air: “Let me fucking go,” he cried. “Let me go now, or I swear I’ll…” The grip on him tightened. Fingernails sharp as glass shards pricked his flesh. “Be still.” The voice was as smooth as an oil spill. It poured into his ear and down his nerves, stretching them to the point of snapping. The hot, fragrant breath against his skin made his traitorous body shake. “This is assault. I’ll have you arrested, I swear.” “This is what happens when weak men pretend they are strong.” The creature tightened his grip in Tyler’s hair and pulled his head back, exposing his neck. “Do you still think you are strong?” Tyler fought air into his lungs, staring at the stars that had started to wheel overhead. “Who…who are you?” “I am Lucien,” murmured the voice. “Whether you live another fifty seconds or another fifty years, you will never forget that name.” Tyler threw his pillow across the room. It knocked a hi-fi speaker flying. It crashed to the floor with the sickening sound of splintering wood. He sat on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands, breathing hard, until the red mist swirling before his eyes faded. He checked his phone. Three-o-one a.m. He threw it at the wall, shoved back the sheets and paced the flat until, finally, the sun began to rise, and he dared open the curtains. By the time he was nearing Fulford Road Police Station an hour later, he was finishing his fourth coffee, and his body felt like it was strung through with hot wire. There was a bitter, metallic taste in his mouth. His heart skittered in his chest. He swore and swerved to avoid an ambulance bombing the other way down the narrow street…then another. He pulled over and climbed out of the car, shaking as the sirens faded away. Silence descended. He took a steadying breath and made for the police station on foot. It wasn’t yet six a.m., but when he arrived, the entrance was swarming with activity. Another ambulance was pulled up onto the curb. Paramedics were hoisting up a stretcher on which sprawled an unconscious form. There was blood everywhere—on the man’s face, clothes, matting his hair. The ambulance screamed off after the others. Tyler stood staring for a moment before shaking himself and striding into the police station. “DI Walker,” he barked at the harried-looking desk officer. She held up a finger and continued her conversation on the phone. “Oi, lady. I said I want to see Walker. Now.” “One sec,” she said into the phone then gave Tyler a hard look. “Please, sir. Take a seat.” “I won’t take a bloody seat. Get Walker out here. Now.” The woman’s face tightened. “DI Walker is engaged. If you want to leave your number, I will be sure he contacts you. Yes, I’m still here,” she spoke again into the phone. “We need extra techs to go over the CCTV as soon as possible. Yes. Scene photographers, too—” Tyler reached over and cut the woman’s call. “I said I want Walker…now.” She held his glare without blinking. “And I said he’s busy, sir.” “Mr. Lomax.” Tyler turned. A tall man stood in the doorway. His brown hair was disheveled, like he’d been running his hands through it, but the hard amber of his eyes was as unyielding as stone. “You’re up early.” “Finally,” Tyler said, folding his arms. “I came for an update on my case.” The detective studied him for a moment. “This way, Mr. Lomax,” he said, stepping back and holding open the door. Tyler strode through, muttering under his breath. Walker took them to an interview room and shutting them in. “You’re avoiding me,” Tyler said. “Why would I avoid such pleasant company as yours?” Walker replied, standing with his hands in his pockets. There were shadows under his eyes and spots of blood on his collar. “I’m serious,” Tyler said, lifting his gaze from the stain. “You don’t think I’m serious? Because I can show you just how serious I am, if that’s what you want.” BOOK 1 Book Title: Touch in the Night Author: S. J. Coles Publisher: Pride Publishing Release Date: November 7, 2023 Genre: Paranormal M/M Romance Tropes: Vampire, BDSM, Single Dad, Billionaire Themes: Self-worth, self-acceptance, overcoming prejudice Heat Rating: 4 flames Length: 85 673 words/344 pages It is Book 1 in the ‘Blood and Bonds’ Series. Books 2 & 3 due for release in 2024 This book does not end on a cliffhanger Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited Jesse Truelove never felt a part of his own family. But can a vampire really give him a new one? Blurb With a criminal record, no steady job and a penchant for kink, Jesse Truelove has spent most of his life feeling like an outsider. He tells himself it doesn’t bother him, that he never needed human connections anyway. Now the Undying Baron, Emory Von Magnusson, a vampire—or, to use the modern term, ‘haemophile’—has reclaimed his ancestral home north of Jesse’s hometown, and the human population isn’t sure how to react. Jesse knows a thing or two about what it’s like to be misjudged, so he keeps an open mind. But when a bungled break-in at Emory’s home brings them face-to-face, Jesse finds it’s much more than his mind that’s stimulated. However, building a relationship with an undead blood-drinker was never going to be straightforward, especially when that undead blood-drinker reveals he wants a family. About the Author S.J. Coles is a Romance writer originally from Shropshire, UK. She has been writing stories for as long as she has been able to read them. Her biggest passion is exploring narratives through character relationships. She finds writing LGBT/paranormal romance provides many unique and fulfilling opportunities to explore many (often neglected or under-represented) aspects of human experience, expectation, emotion and sexuality. Among her biggest influences are LGBT Romance authors K J Charles and Josh Lanyon and Vampire Chronicles author Anne Rice. Author Links Dive into Colin Alexander's sci-fantasy masterpiece: Princess of Shadows: The Girl Who Would Be King. A princess doesn't lead an army. Or does she? It is a hard life on a strange world under a red sun that never moves in the heavens, its landscape dotted with the ruins of the Ancients who came from beyond the sky. The Kingdom of the Light, Shadows, and Dark brought stability to this world for generations, but peace is dying as the kingdom crumbles. Rebellion and warfare are rife in the realm, and death in all its brutal forms stalks the land. Aeryn, the Princess of Shadows, is second in line to the throne. As a young child, she loves stories of the Ancients and wants to see what is beyond the sky. The fighting, however, brings an abrupt end to her childhood and shatters not only the Light, Shadows, and Dark, but her family as well. She grows up amid war and loss, a smart, stubborn, and quick-tempered girl who promises her mother she would always do her best and vows to be true to her word. Childhood dreams must wait; her priorities become revenge and the throne of a restored kingdom. Achieving any of her goals seems unlikely as obstacles are piled, one after another, in front of her. Armies fail, castles fall, and erstwhile allies betray. She makes plenty of mistakes and must learn from her errors fast enough to survive. She finds friends and allies in strange places, but there are many who see her as nothing more than a pawn in their own plays for power. The odds are not in her favor. If she fails, humanity will face a bleak future on an unforgiving world. What is the future of a young princess beset by powerful lords and captains? What is the fate of those men when the princess decides to get even? Warnings: Combat scenes both one-on-one and armies, named characters die. Includes bi, lesbian and gay characters. Amazon | Universal Buy LinkExcerpt “Gods and Goddesses!” Sophia said as she looked at her daughter. “What has my little Red Rynnie been doing?” The miniature tornado turned to Robert. “Mama says I should be called Her Royal Lowness because I’m little, but look at my feet!” She stuck out a bare foot covered in dirt from heel to toe. “If puppies have big paws, they grow into big dogs. I’m going to be a big girl!” She turned back to her mother. “And, Mama, Rynnie is a baby name. I’m too big for that already. I’m Aeryn the Red!” She held out a curl of hair the same color as Sophia’s. Aeryn the Red was a sturdy child of about six standards. Dirt caked both freckled cheeks under green eyes and smeared her pink dress. “All right.” Sophia laughed. “What has Aeryn the Red been doing, and how is it possible that you got so dirty?” “We were playing vendetta outside, Mama,” said Aeryn. “You were playing outside with the boys? In your dress?” “I love my dress.” Aeryn smoothed down the side of the dress and transferred more dirt from her hands to the fabric as she did. “It’s just like your pink one.” Sophia sighed. “And what do you mean about ‘playing vendetta’?” “It’s a game, Mama. Somebody is ‘it’ and that means they have to go, ‘I cry vendetta,’ and then they’re the vendetta rider and they have to tag everyone else and then somebody else is it.” “Vendetta,” Sophia said. “Saints. In the bad old days before the Hammer, a man could ‘cry vendetta’ against people he said wronged him. That was an oath that he would hunt down and kill all of them or he would die trying.” She shuddered. “Families were destroyed, villages burned. Yes, men still have rencontres and they still fight their duels, but no one cries vendetta anymore. The Hammer put a stop to that.” “It’s a game, Mama!” “Oh, and are you dirty because you fell when you were tagged? Or did you fall trying to tag someone?” “No,” Aeryn said. “Siggy pushed me into the fosse.” Sophia shook her head and considered that. Siggy was Sigismund Fitzwilliam, eldest son of Dux Matthew Fitzwilliam, on whom Arthur often relied, and who made a point of being at Triad frequently. With his eldest. Of course, even if Siggy had been nothing more than the son of an eques, she could not have complained about him pushing her princess into a big ditch. Arthur the Hammer had famously said of his children, “If they can’t survive growing up like everyone else, they don’t deserve to rule anyone else.” He had written that into his Code as well. Children did not receive any courtesies of rank before they reached adulthood at fourteen. Aemond, Aeryn’s elder brother, was Siggy’s age and should have stood up for his sister—but, no, Aemond was with his tutor. Sophia settled for saying, “Siggy is bigger and older. He should know better than to treat a smaller girl like that.” “It’s all right, Mama,” Aeryn said. “I didn’t cry. You know that.” That was the truth too. Aeryn had announced when she was about three that only babies cried, and that she was no longer a baby. From that time forward, no matter the scrape, bruise, or fall—and there had been many—no one had seen her cry. “Very well, my young Princess of Shadows,” Robert said, “what did you do after Siggy pushed you into the fosse?” “Well, I climbed out, of course.” Aeryn paused to be sure her mother and Robert were looking at her. “He is bigger, Mama. So I waited until he was doing something else and then I ran into him from behind as hard as I could, and I knocked him into the fosse. Headfirst! His nose is bloody now.” “You hit him from behind? That’s not very nice, Aeryn,” Sophia said. “I wasn’t feeling nice. I was mad.” “You need to watch your temper, my little scapegrace,” Sophia said. “Princesses must always be nice.” Aeryn stomped her bare foot on the floor. Then she put both fists on her hips and turned to look up at Darnald. “What would Comes Robert Darnald, who advises the king, say?” Robert found himself chuckling, despite the work he knew was waiting for him. Of all the children who swarmed through the castle and its grounds, he found Aeryn special—and not because she was Princess of Shadows, currently second in line to the throne after Aemond. “You are a princess,” he said. “You must remember that a princess should be nice whenever she can. However . . . it is much more important for a princess to always get even.” Aeryn giggled and made something between a bow and a curtsy. “I want to go take care of Barnabas, my pony,” she said, and spun to go. “You change out of that dress first!” Sophia shouted after her. “And you put boots on your feet before you go mucking in that stall!” When Aeryn had vanished and the beat of her footsteps had faded, Sophia looked at Darnald and grinned. “You put dangerous ideas into that child’s mind.” “No, Ma’am,” Robert said. “They grow there quite spontaneously.” Author Bio Colin Alexander is a writer of science fiction and fantasy. Actually, Colin Alexander is the pseudonym for Alton Kremer, maybe his alter ego, or who he would have been if he hadn't been a physician and biochemist and had a career as a medical researcher. His most recent book, A Planet of Wrath and Tears, is his tenth and the fourth of the Leif the Lucky novels. Colin is an active member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers Association, Mystery Writers of America, and the Maine Writers & Publishers Alliance. Away from writing fiction, his idea of relaxation is martial arts (taekwondo and minna jiu jitsu). He lives in Maine with his wife. Liminal Fiction: https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/colin-alexander/ Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/ColinAlexanderAuthor Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/colinalexander RECENT RELEASE Book Title: Be Not Afraid Author and Publisher: AJ Saxsma Cover Artist: Andrew Howard Release Date: January 23, 2024 Genre: LGBTQ Literary Themes: Coming out, accepting what we cannot change Length: 120 000 words/431 pages Heat Rating: 2 flames It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited Can you love yourself enough? Are you capable of it? Blurb Step into the small & intriguing Midwestern town of Larton where Lloyd Wood struggles daily with reviving his failing restaurant while refusing to relinquish any control, even in his family life. When a business guru arrives and promises to set the restaurant right, Lloyd is tempted by the promise of a miraculous turnaround. Toby, Lloyd's son, seeks conformity compulsively. Each day, he audits and buries his true self deeper, yearning to fade into obscurity, anonymity. His desperation leads him to a program that vows to obliterate his authentic self, setting Toby on an unintended and riveting path of self-discovery. Meanwhile, Dawn, Lloyd's wife, finds solace in a new church where love is not just a sentiment but a commodity. Lost in her family's shadow, she embraces a new identity amidst her new church family whose intentions seem questionable at best. As the Wood family strives to escape their own truths, the chasms they create around themselves deepen and, one by one, threaten to swallow the people they care about most. 'Be Not Afraid' explores identity, family dynamics, the destructive paradox of denial & with a distinct strength in voice questions our capacity to accept what we cannot change...or can we? Excerpt TOBY AND DAWN WAITED in the doctor’s office. She’d picked him up from Jonah’s that morning, and he had been quiet in the car and at the house, and then quiet again to the doctor’s office in town. The sign above the reception window read Dr. E.M. Gille, MD. ‘How you feeling, hon?’ Dawn said. She had a magazine in her lap, and she was rubbing Toby’s back. ‘How’s your stomach? Want to describe it to me?’ ‘No.’ ‘If you describe it to me, it’ll be easier to tell the doctor.’ ‘It’s fine right now,’ Toby said. He was watching the TV on a stand tucked in the corner. The news was on. Another eyewitness had seen an angel outside town.” “A nurse came into the waiting room. She was in pink smocks and stood on thick soles. She said, ‘Toby Wood.’ Both Toby and Dawn followed the nurse to an exam room, which she knocked on before allowing entry. She examined Toby and made him describe the pain. ‘It just hurts sometimes.’ She stunk like cigarettes. The nurse said the doctor will be right in. Toby sat on the examination table. The sanitary paper crinkled no matter how he moved or how he settled. He and Dawn waited for the doctor. ‘Does it hurt now?’ Dawn said. ‘No, Mom.’ They waited, and sometime later, a knock announced the doctor. He was clean shaven with close-cropped hair white as bedsheets. His brows were thick and bushy. His skin was cream and pink and aged. He wore a button-up and tie under his white coat. His teeth and eyes were bright. ‘Heya, Toby,’ he said. He didn’t look at Toby when he said it; he was reading Toby’s chart. He sat and scooted his stool close. ‘You’re having stomach pain.’ It wasn’t a question; it was a statement the doctor read aloud. Toby quietly confirmed. The doctor pressed with his fingers into Toby’s stomach and tested areas and asked if that hurt. Toby said it did not. ‘Pain comes and goes. It’s not that bad.’ ‘Out of ten, what would you say?’ ‘A two, one and a half. It’s really not that bad.’ ‘A two? One and a half?’ ‘Tell the doctor when it hurts, hon.’ ‘It comes and goes, Mom.’ ‘Do you take any pain relievers?’ ‘No,’ Toby said. ‘No, he doesn’t,’ Dawn said too. ‘Okay,’ the doctor said. He made notes. ‘He doesn’t always come to me when it hurts. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what it is.’ The doctor’s tone was soft. ‘Well. Sometimes our bodies respond physically to factors within our environment, anxiety, stress, all these can stew in the body and hollow us out,’ the doctor said to Dawn. She nodded intently. ‘Are you studying too hard? Maybe big tests coming up? Staying up too late with the video games?’ ‘I study too hard,’ Toby said. He said it very quickly, almost before the doctor had finished speaking. ‘That must be it, the stress of studying,’ Toby said. ‘Still.’ The doctor rolled the stool close to Dawn. He continued, ‘A boy his age should not have recurring stomach pain. I’d like to send him for testing.’ ‘That’s what I said, I didn’t like the frequency of it. Didn’t I say, Toby?’ Dawn said. ‘Testing?’ Toby said. ‘I’d like to rule some things out.’ ‘It’s not that bad, really. It’s only sometimes,’ Toby said. Dawn said whatever test was fine and she agreed, and she asked if it could, maybe, be this or could be that, or, she said, she didn’t really know, Doctor. ‘Could I have you step out for a minute, Mrs. Wood?’ Dawn stepped out, and the doctor shut the door. The doctor had Toby come off the exam table and sit in a chair, and the doctor rolled over on the rolly stool. He did not speak right away. He was deep in thought, and then he said, ‘Is there anything you have not told your mom, anything you’re worried about that, maybe, you can’t tell mom or dad? Stress is not good for the body. If you’ve kept something to yourself, I won’t say a word to your mom or your dad if you’d like to share it with me. Do you have something you’d like to tell me that you can’t tell them?’ Toby was quiet a very long time. ‘I’m just studying too hard.’ The doctor nodded and waited for more from Toby. There was no more. ‘Well. Then. Take study breaks, okay? Allow yourself time to relax. Time to be. But I do want to run some tests. Whatever is triggering the pain, we’ll find it out. Okay? I promise, son, we will unearth with absolute certainty what is causing this physical reaction. Even if it takes a while, we’ll uncover the root of it. I can promise that. Okay?’ The doctor went from the room and scheduled Toby’s lab tests with his mother and the receptionist. Toby sat in the room. Alone. He was listening to the doctor’s words over and again. We’ll find it out. Okay? I can promise that. His stomach hurt. About the Author AJ Saxsma, born in Illinois in 1987, is a queer writer. He lives in Los Angeles with his husky. His literary work has earned awards from Almond Press UK and has been published in several genre magazines. As a screenwriter, his work has been an official selection for the Independent Horror Film Awards, Hollywood Screen Film Festival, Los Angeles Cinefest, and Los Angeles Horror Competition. He's also written the narrative scripts for four video game projects produced by Oculus for the Oculus VR system. Social Media Links Blog/Website | Twitter | Instagram | Newsletter Sign-up Giveaway Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win one of twenty ebook copies of Morphosis. NEW RELEASE Book Title: The Long Journey to You Author: Vincent Traughber Meis Publisher: Spectrum Books Cover Artist: Vincent Meis and Andrew May Release Date: February 17, 2024 Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance, Literary Fiction Tropes: Age-gap relationship, friends to lovers Themes: Survival, overcoming tragedy Heat Rating: 3 flames Length: 97 000 words/350 pages It can be read as a standalone, but the protagonist also appears in my novel, The Mayor of Oak Street (ages 12-21). The main story of this book takes place 40 years later and we find out what happened to him in flashbacks. It does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited Universal Link | Amazon US | Amazon UK Nathan’s traumatic past challenges but cannot stop the arc that brings him to Mateo. Blurb Nathan doesn’t know how to stop dwelling on the failures and tragedies that have plagued him since he was a twenty-one-year-old happily in the arms of the handsome young doctor he had pined for since he was twelve. Many years later after the latest tragedy, who could mend Nathan’s heart? If not a handsome young doctor, would an ER nurse do? After a chance meeting with Mateo, a lot of Nathan’s reminiscing is now devoted to how that encounter made him feel. Will he seize the day or continue wallowing in the past, having lunch with his best girlfriend from high school, and writing poetry? Excerpt “Are you okay?” he asked in a slight Spanish accent. His questioning eyes moved directly to the stain on my T-shirt where the juicy tomato from my lunch had squirted. Looking like blood? I became acutely aware of my attire: baggy sweats that may have had other stains, a baseball cap with a tattered rim, and faded crocs. He wore neat magenta scrubs that matched the color of his full shiny lips. His nametag said Mateo. The scenario must have been embarrassingly clear to him. I had wandered off from one of the many senior facilities that dotted the landscape of the neighborhood. If I exaggerated the confusion that I, in fact, frequently felt, he might take my arm, walk me back to the facility, put me in a bath, gently wash my back, and tuck me into bed. The more I looked into his onyx eyes, the more I wanted him to do just that. “I mean, you looked a little lost…and sad.” “Don’t worry, Mateo.” His eyebrows separated and bounced at the sound of his name. Then he smiled and touched his nametag, realizing how I knew it. “I’m lost in a memory is all.” I chuckled. “I suppose I do fit a profile.” “You’re okay, then?” “Yep.” “My bad. I didn’t mean to profile you. I have experience with that, and it’s no fun.” I imagined that he was doubly profiled, first for the color of his skin and then a second time when people caught a hint of his accent. “No harm done. I appreciate your concern.” “It’s kind of my job. Sometimes it is difficult to switch out of that mode when I leave work.” He lowered his eyes, making me realize I must have been staring intently. How could I have not? He was an amalgam of all the men I had been attracted to my entire life: Mediterranean, Black, Latino, shorter than me, rectangular solid frame, soulful eyes, thick hair. But with an added twist. A dusting of freckles graced his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. In a thoughtful gesture, he stared at the sidewalk and raised his hand to his chin, rubbing his index finger over his left cheek, revealing another physical trait that rang my buzzer: little tufts of black hair between his major and minor knuckles, a tiny forest to let my tongue wander through. Thank God, he couldn’t read my thoughts. Or could he? “I should let you get on your way,” he mumbled, still not looking at me. He stared at the smashed apricots on the ground with, I imagined, quite a different take than mine. I wasn’t ready to let him go just yet. “Do you work in one of these facilities I might have escaped from?” “Now, look, I didn’t mean…” He took a step back in what appeared to be a desire to flee. “I’m teasing. I haven’t seen you around the neighborhood.” He tapped his nametag and twisted his neck to look at it. “Kaiser. It says right here. Kaiser Permanente.” “I have trouble reading fine print.” I let out a small laugh, but he didn’t join me. He took another step back. “Just moved here less than a year ago.” I guessed he was mid-thirties, and with his Spanish accent and African features, maybe Puerto Rican? Cuban? I imagined he lived with a wife and multiple niños. They spent Saturdays having barbecues in the park and Sundays from dawn to dusk at church events. He looked far too sweet to be anything but a family man. Now I was profiling. “From?” I asked. He let out a protracted sigh, as if the conversation had gotten way more involved than he had intended. His forehead crinkled again, hesitating to give me an answer. “The city. Getting too crazy over there.” Then he raised his head and his eyes met mine with the twinkle of a forest elf. Perhaps he wasn’t annoyed with me after all. Perhaps I had been wrong about sizing him up, though my conclusion that he was a family man was much easier to handle. Yet, he wore no ring. About the Author Vincent Traughber Meis is a fiction writer, a world traveler, and a former ESL community college teacher. When he’s not traveling, he divides his time between writing and working in the garden. Most of the characters in his novels and short stories come from across the LGBTQ+ spectrum and are racially and ethnically diverse. He has published eight novels: Eddie’s Desert Rose, Tio Jorge, Down in Cuba, Deluge, Four Calling Burds and The Mayor of Oak Street, First Born Sons, and Colton’s Terrible Wonderful Year. Tio Jorge, Down in Cuba, and Deluge have all won Rainbow Awards. The Mayor of Oak Street and First Born Sons have won Reader Views Reviewer’s Choice Awards. His short stories have appeared in several collections both in print and online, and have reached finalist status in several short story contests. A collection of short stories, Far from Home, was published in October 2021. He lives with his husband in San Leandro, California and Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Social Media Links Blog/Website | Facebook | Instagram Giveaway Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win one of four 4 ebook copies of The Mayor of Oak Street. What worried Griff the most was that Clint said nothing. He was one of those people who thanked the checkout clerk at the grocery store for taking his money, yet he’d barely spoken to the doctor. Bruises, cuts, and scrapes would heal. If there were broken bones, those would be fixed, and dehydration was very easily cured. Griff wasn’t concerned over Clint’s physical condition. It was what was happening inside Clint’s head that so completely terrified Griff in a way he’d never before felt, even when confronted with armed and dangerous felons. Read more snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group. Jewel Cave is available in eBook, paperback and through KoboPlus.
BOOK BLAST Book Title: Runway Dreams: Prideful Vengeance Author: T.K Ambers Publisher: Star Spirit Adventures Cover Artist: Getcovers Release Date: December 18, 2023 Genre: Murder Mystery with MM Romance Tropes: Connect the Deaths, Never Suicide, & Everyone’s a suspect. Themes: Forgiveness, Family, Relationships, & Music. Heat Rating: 3 flames Length: 78 671 words/ 275 pages It’s part of a series, but this book focuses on Alex and Matthew and can be read as a standalone. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited Music, murder, and Pride, oh, my! Blurb To Alex Crimson, California means fun in the sun, but when his favorite new LGBTQ+ pop idol goes missing, California marks the start of a deadly nightmare. As the disappearances continue, Alex fears the trail is moving toward Tulsa. Could the killer be someone he knows? Thinking things can’t get any worse, he unwittingly finds himself in the crosshairs of a friend’s volatile family dispute. Join the cast of Runway Dreams in this dark and humorous murder mystery as they work to catch a serial killer, and avoid becoming the victims of a friend’s lunatic brothers. Excerpt Alex saw Matthew coming up the aisle, and a pain gripped his chest, sucking the air out of his lungs. Every hair on his body rose as he evaluated the grim look on Matthew’s face. “May I speak to you outside for a moment?” Matthew whispered. “Sure,” he replied. Somehow, he picked up his feet and follow Matthew away from his guest’s prying eyes. “What’s going on?” he asked, forcing the words out. “Hector’s not here, Alex. We’ve checked the club, as well as your house and his. He’s nowhere to be found.” “Did you find any notes?” asked Alex. “No.” Matthew could tell from the look on his friend’s face that he was scared out of his mind. “Listen, I don’t want to think Hector would abandon you, but this might simply be a case of wedding day nerves.” Alex shook his head. “Simple. Is that what you think this is? Nothing about this is simple, Matthew. We have one hundred guests sitting outside waiting to witness our vows. We’ve spent a fortune on flowers, food, and cake. This is supposed to be a happy reprieve from the depravity we’ve been pulled into over the past years,” said Alex, his voice slowly rising, “and you’re telling me the man I’m in love with and due to marry, this very day, has vanished just like his cousin, who turned up dead a day later! He could be the killer’s next victim!” Matthew raised his hand and said, “Calm down. I know it’s easy to go into panic mode, but you mustn’t allow yourself to entertain the worst. We have absolutely no information to go on except that he was supposed to marry you, and he didn’t show up. I know it’s a terrible situation, no matter which way you view it, but we’ve got to remain calm until we know what we’re dealing with. Maybe he’s stuck in traffic somewhere?” “Nooo!” shrieked Alex, his cheeks flushed as anger flashed in his eyes. “This is unacceptable!” Dropping his head into his hands, his lip began to quiver. “This is too much. Too freaking much. It’s bad enough I had to wear this cake-like makeup to cover my heinous green and yellow eye, but now there won't even be a wedding. I don’t really care what you say, but go tell our guests they can enjoy some wine and canapes on me. I don’t know what else to do.” The fight had been knocked out of him. “Send Hector's parents over. I’m sure they’ll want an explanation.” Matthew patted him on the back. “I’ll be fine.” Pausing, he let out another deep sigh and added, “I hope.” “I’m so sorry, Alex,” said Matthew. Turning away, he walked back into the tent, noticing that Maddie had arrived and taken her seat, late as predicted. Approaching Alex’s sisters, he said, “Ladies, I need you to keep calm, as I don’t want to scare the guests, but Hector’s not here. I'll deal with the guests if you'll go console Alex.” “Oh, no,” said Bell. “Do we know anything about what’s happened to Hector?” “No,” replied Matt. “I’m praying its cold feet or something ridiculous slowing his arrival. You know how dramatic he can be. Anyway, I'm off to address the guests. Wish me luck.” “Okay, good luck,” said Bernie. “We’ll go take care of Alex.” Moving on, Matthew walked up to the microphone and tapped on it. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m afraid there will be no wedding today due to unforeseen circumstances that must be dealt with. Alex and Hector will get back to you as soon as they know when the wedding will take place. In the meantime, help yourselves to a glass of sparkling wine and some canapes before you go. Thank you, and best wishes to you all.” Turning off the microphone, he waved Hector’s parents to follow and headed back to where the siblings were furiously discussing every possible scenario Hector might have gotten into. “What if he was in a car wreck and he’s in the hospital?” asked Bell. “That isn’t far from what happened to me when Martin had me run off the road.” “I doubt it,” said Matthew, “but I’ll notify Thompson and Wells and have the local hospitals checked immediately.” As the siblings continued their discussion, Hector’s parents walked over to them. “What’s happened?” asked Hector’s mother. “Where’s my son?” She used all her strength to squeeze her husband's hand. “We’re not sure,” replied Matthew, “but I know Thompson and Wells won't stop looking until they find him.” About the Author T.K. Ambers is the award-winning author of Runway Dreams A Pricey Affair. Her novel has been recognized in four award competitions and took second place in the Pencraft Awards, Women's Fiction category. Her love of reading and writing spans several genres, but she loves comedy, thrillers, and paranormal. Most of her work contains a comedic element. She lives in New Richmond, Wisconsin, with her husband and two cats, Bellatrix and Kit. She would spend her perfect day lakeside, where she would swim, play games, and then wind down with a bonfire, s'mores, and stories told by family and friends. T.K. has a love for nature, travel, photography, concerts, off-roading, and hiking (preferably to waterfalls). She also holds a special place in her heart for her father's band, 40 Fingers. She enjoys dancing to their music. She lives by the belief that life is short and every day is its own adventure and should be treated as such. Author Links Giveaway Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win one of two $20 Amazon Gift Card NEW RELEASE Book Title: Blackmailer’s Delight Author: David Lawrence Publisher: Broadbound Publishing Cover Artist: L1graphics Release Date: February 13, 2024 Genre: Historical M/M Romantic Comedy Tropes: Forbidden love Themes: Understanding that you are not alone in your experiences Heat Rating: 3 flames Length: 81 300 words/282 pages It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited Three men. Two blackmail notes. One slight misunderstanding. Blurb Every new romance has its ups and downs… Excerpt March 1795 A revolution in France. Food shortages at home. And now a damned tax on wig powder. “This world is going to hell,” said Daniel Thornton to his lover, Clarence, one morning over toast and marmalade. “What is the name of that local sect I was telling you of the other morning? The one predicting the end of the world in the year 1800?” “What?” said the younger man, who had been gazing out the first-floor window of their Westminster townhouse. “Haven’t they all gone to America?” “It was in the paper last week. I distinctly recall telling you about it.” “Oh, you know I don’t listen to anything you say at the breakfast table.” “Don’t you?” “I’m slow to rise, Danny. Once I am awake, I must plan my day; I cannot attend to your little newspaper articles.” Daniel observed his companion for a moment – perhaps the longest moment of his life. This was the end, of course. Not of the world, but for them. For six weeks he had been expecting this, cynic that he was. They were both cynics – and, apart from the sex, he supposed Clarence’s pessimism had been his primary attraction. They saw the world identically. They liked to laugh at things like sects predicting the end of the world in five years. Or they had. If Clarence couldn’t be bothered to listen to him at the breakfast table, if they hadn’t even this anymore, after the misery this man was putting him through, there really was nothing for them. He eyed the orange juice Clarence was sipping lazily. Should he?” They weren’t sleeping together anymore. And this, incredibly, before he had understood why, had actually bonded him to this man. Clarence had made no excuses: “It’s the way of all things, isn’t it? We are simply two old men grown comfortable with each other,” though this was absurd as Clarence was just twenty-six. No man likes being rejected in bed, but Clarence had won him by appearing to join him in their common plight – wasn’t it just the way of this miserable world? “What?” he said, lowering his orange juice to glance over his shoulder. Daniel hadn’t spoken – Clarence must have heard the memory of his words ringing in his companion’s head. Narcissists only listened to hear the echo of their own words. About the Author I am the author of two queer historical novels – ‘Hugh: A Hero without a Novel’ and ‘Blue Billy’s Rogue Lexicon’. As a writer, I love taking a deep dive into the social norms and historical events of 18th century England, told with humour and whimsy, while presenting what I hope are compelling and unique coming-of-age tales. A native of the American Southwest, I have spent much of my life in Great Britain, France, and Finland. I now live in the American Northwest – Helena, Montana – with my Finnish partner. Social Media Links Blog/Website and Newsletter Sign-up | Facebook Giveaway Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card |
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