First, thank the blogs for having me on this Ink and Shadows tour! Thank you so so much! Secondly, this next part will be the same across the blogs but I wanted to give a bit of a soundbite about the whys of this book. Continue reading Guest Post and Giveaway: Ink and Shadows by Rhys Ford
I am ridiculously excited to have Astrid Amara here at It’s About The Book. I’ve been a fan of hers for a long time. As she’s got a new release, Song of the Navigator, I wanted to not only ask her some questions about that, but about things in general. Thanks for being here!
The first books of yours I read were A Policy of Lies and the stories in the Hell Cop anthologies. I had an image of your books in my head as being dark speculative fiction. Then people were talking about the Bellski books, and how Astrid Amara writes such great holiday stories. What is coming at us in Song of the Navigator? Will your characters have to stiffen their spines and admit they have strong feelings, or will they have to dodge an obsidian bladed ax? Continue reading Song of the Navigator: Blog Tour Q&A and Giveaway with Astrid Amara
Author: Anne Tenino
Rating: 4.5 stars
Type: Sequel to “Helping Hand”
Received from Publisher as uncorrected proof
Blurb: Lucas Wilder’s best friend is a traitor. First, Audrey moved back to their hick-infested hometown, Bluewater Bay, and now she’s marrying a local. His own brother, in fact. And as her man of honor, Lucas gets coerced into returning for an extended stay. Although, between his unfaithful ex-boyfriend and his artist’s block, going home isn’t the worst thing that could happen. Even if the best man is Gabriel Savage, Lucas’s first crush, first hookup, and first heartbreak.
The only reason Gabe hasn’t been waiting for Lucas to return to Bluewater Bay is because he never thought it’d happen. Not that it matters now that Lucas is back—Gabe’s still a logger who’s never been anywhere (Canada doesn’t count), and Lucas is now a famous sculptor who’s been everywhere twice. Plus, there’s that shared past.
When Audrey asks Lucas to make her wedding favors, the only place to set up a kiln is at Gabe’s tree farm. Soon, they pick up where they left off twelve years before, then blow past it, discovering why neither of them forgot the other. Now they have to choose how much of their history they’ll repeat, and what future they’ll make together.
Hi! We’re Lisa Henry and J.A. Rock, the authors of THE MERCHANT OF DEATH. We’re touring the web taking about our influences, our processes, anything we can think about actually, and even giving you guys a sneak peak or two! And what would a blog tour be without a contest? Check out the details at the bottom of the post to see what you can win!
Today we’re putting the spotlight on one of series’ supporting characters: Valerie Kimura. Val used to be Mac’s partner at the Indianapolis FBI. She’s now his boss. Val’s favorite childhood movie is The Silence of the Lambs. She’s in her thirties, and just because she’s single and wears sensible shoes doesn’t mean she’s a lesbian. Only her dad suspects that. Continue reading Guest Post and Giveaway: Merchant of Death by Lisa Henry and J.A. Rock
Rhys Ford’s Down and Dirty Giveaway
$20 Gift Certificate to the e-tailer of your choice
To enter comment below. Winner to be chosen randomly.
Dirty Minds Part Seven
I kissed Ichiro’s throat, loving the shiver I sent through his body when my lips touched his skin. There was something about the light. Or it could have been the sliver of moon hanging over LA’s skyline, a ripe melon curve sliding around the silver clouds. Either way, I was turning maudlin and sentimental where Ichiro was concerned.
“Dawson, you need to…” Ichi gasped when I bit the spot I’d just kissed.
Coming up behind him, I’d wrapped my arms around his waist and sank my teeth in deeper, needing just a taste of him in my mouth before we moved on. His moan was enough to make me come in my jeans and when his fingers dug into the back of my thighs, I couldn’t help thinking it would have been so much better if we hadn’t left my apartment and just spent the night naked and on my bed.
My phone going off was the bucket of ice water my brain needed to let Ichi go.
“Ignore it or answer?” I asked but there wasn’t really a choice. Especially when Ichi stepped away from me. “Fucking McGinnis.”
“Just get it before he comes down here with machine guns blazing.” Ichiro rolled his eyes. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he put more distance between us, stepping away from the shadows and into the light cast down from a taco truck’s bright sign. “You hungry? I could eat.”
Nodding quickly, I answered the phone while Ichi began to order us food. “Yeah, Princess?”
“How are you guys doing? Anything yet?” From what I could make out alongside his voice, it sounded like he was by one of the main bus stations. “Got a guy who IDed the passenger.”
“Nothing major but it looks like Ichi’s talking someone else up right now.” I had to turn away then noticed we were across the street of the dump site. Somehow in our tromping through the neighbourhood, we’d come back to where we’d started. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Ichiro handing the photos up to the guy behind the truck’s counter. “We stopped to grab something to eat. I’m thinking this food truck might do a midnight run on people coming home.”
It wasn’t that bad of an idea, not considering how thick the crowd was getting around the truck. A few large guys were muttering at how long Ichi was taking and I stepped closer to the group, muscling in behind him.
“Gotta go, dude.” I glared down at a smaller man scowling at Ichi’s back. “I’m going to take care of some business.”
Ichi thanked the guy he was talking to and took a couple of foil wrapped burritos from a frazzled woman trying to work around the tiny kitchen. Sliding out of the crowd, he got to my side quickly. Tossing over one of the heavy burritos, he gave me a wicked grin.
“Randy back there saw them dump the van.” As he peeled the foil back off of his burrito, Ichi nodded towards a nearby parking structure. “Someone in an old purple Monte Carlo came and picked them up. Put everything in the trunk but they had a kennel with them. That they put in the backseat.”
I looked at the tangerine- and blue-washed streets around us. There were too many sources of lights, all splashy and harsh. “Monte Carlo could have been any colour. These kinds of lights change how paint looks.”
“Yeah, but he’s seen the Monte Carlo before. Recognized it because it’s got a big Trans Am bird on the hood.” Ichi grinned at my disgusted snort. “Yeah, wrong car but right now, you’ve got to be really glad for this guy’s shitty taste.”
Down and Dirty Blog Tour
Jan 4 Part Seven — It’s About The Book (http://www.itsaboutthebook.com)
Jan 5 Part Nine — Sinfully Sexy (http://sinfullysexybooks.blogspot.com/)
Jan 6 Part Ten — NDulgent Bloggers (http://guiltyindulgencebookclub.blogspot.com/)
Jan 7 Part Eleven — The Novel Approach (http://thenovelapproachreviews.com/)
Jan 8 Part Twelve — Under the Covers Blog (http://www.underthecoversbookblog.com/)
Down and Dirty
From the moment former LAPD detective Bobby Dawson spots Ichiro Tokugawa, he knows the man is trouble. And not just because the much younger Japanese inker is hot, complicated, and pushes every one of Bobby’s buttons. No, Ichi is trouble because he’s Cole McGinnis’s younger brother and off-limits in every possible way. And Bobby knows that even before Cole threatens to kill him for looking Ichi’s way. But despite his gut telling him Ichi is bad news, Bobby can’t stop looking… or wanting.
Ichi was never one to play by the rules. Growing up in Japan as his father’s heir, he’d been bound by every rule imaginable until he had enough and walked away from everything to become his own man. Los Angeles was supposed to be a brief pitstop before he moved on, but after connecting with his American half-brothers, it looks like a good city to call home for a while—if it weren’t for Bobby Dawson.
Bobby is definitely a love-them-and-leave-them type, a philosophy Ichi whole-heartedly agrees with. Family was as much of a relationship as Ichi was looking for, but something about the gruff and handsome Bobby Dawson that makes Ichi want more.
Much, much more.
Purchase Down and Dirty at Dreamspinner Press: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5899
About Rhys Ford
Rhys Ford was born and raised in Hawai’i then wandered off to see the world. After chewing through a pile of books, a lot of odd food, and a stray boyfriend or two, Rhys eventually landed in San Diego, which is a very nice place but seriously needs more rain.
Rhys admits to sharing the house with three cats of varying degrees of black fur and a ginger cairn terrorist. Rhys is also enslaved to the upkeep a 1979 Pontiac Firebird, a Toshiba laptop, and an overworked red coffee maker.
My Blog: http://www.rhysford.com
And at the Starbucks down the street. No really, they’re 24/7. And a drive-thru. It’s like heaven.
My books can be purchased, folded and first chapters read at Dreamspinner Press. http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com
Publisher: Sourcebooks Casablanca
Release: Dec, 2nd 2014
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Summary: She Needs a Hero…
Abby Thompson didn’t sign up to be the daughter of the President of the United States. The position was forced on her by the small matter of her birth. Preferring a quiet life of study, she’s content to leave the politics and the international intrigue to her father. Unfortunately, the most powerful man on the planet is sure to make enemies. When a group of armed thugs takes her hostage half a world away, demanding the U.S. government release prisoners in exchange for her safe return, she fears her father’s policy of “not negotiating with terrorists” means she’ll never see the shores of the Potomac again. Luckily, there’s one glimmer of hope. His name is Carlos Soto. And though she abruptly ended things with him years ago, she knows now he’s the only man who can save her…
Black Knights, Inc. to the Rescue…
Carlos “Steady” Soto has taken part in his fair share of dangerous missions working at the covert government defense firm of Black Knights Inc. But nothing prepared him for the emotional rollercoaster he faces when he’s tasked with rescuing the only woman he ever loved-who also broke his heart. Racing against time and outmaneuvering a group of trained terrorists will take everything he’s got. Plus there’s the heat simmering between them which is threatening to ignite into an inferno. While ruthless enemies stalk them, they must learn to trust each other again. Even if they do make it out alive, will Abby turn her back on him… for the second time?
Excerpt: So far, so good… Continue reading Full Throttle: Spotlight and Giveaway
Hey, everybody! It’s me, Kimber Vale, back with another installment of my Hard Act to Follow inspirational tunage. Thanks ever so much to the lovely crew at It’s About the Book for hosting me during my tour. You put the ice in nice, and everyone knows life is better with ice. Except for maybe Germans. It’s like pulling teeth trying to get a cube for your soda over there.
So, I’ll admit that many of the songs on my playlist thus far haven’t been the shiny happy kind. Don’t worry. This one’s more upbeat than a mom of three on the first day of school. I give you Sleeping with a Friend by the ultra-fabulous Neon Trees. When my local radio station began playing this tune I was largely finished writing Kyrie and Greg’s book. The first time I heard it, though, I was thrilled to have found a song that was perfect for these two. I immediately had to look up the video and was even more excited by the lead singer, Tyler Glenn’s, utter adorableness, sharp attire, and mesmerizing moves. He publically came out within a few weeks of that, and I figured it was a sign from the heavens above; the absolutely perfect playlist song dropped into my lap. Every time it came on the radio, I’d smile thinking of my boys. I still do. I know Kyrie would dance his ass off to this song.
YouTube video for Sleeping with a Friend:
“Beer!” Kyrie came from Greg’s small kitchen with two fists full of Sierra Nevada IPA. “Last two— You need to do better, buddy.”
“I try not to keep a ton of alcohol—”
“Yeah, yeah. But this is why we never hang here.” Kyrie turned around, arms spread, still laden with pale ale. “And this…” He spun around. “Is so much classier than my dump. Game nights would be sweet over on the swanky side of town, bro.”
“I let you and the other riffraff over here every other week, and the swanky side of town just took a turn for the worse.”
Liar. You let Kyrie over here and he’ll drink too much and pass out on your bed. That’s why you avoid this shit—because you can always leave his place with your blue balls and your pathetic fantasies. But Kyrie here is a live hand grenade. Duck and cover.
“Catch!” Kyrie tossed the beer underhand, and Greg barely managed to grab it with uncoordinated fingers.
“Watch it!” Greg bent to set the beer on his glass coffee table, heart thumping for a thousand reasons.
“You deserve an exploded brew for that comment.” Kyrie popped his bottle cap with a keychain opener that screamed arrest me. He dropped his keys on the table beside Greg’s beer while looking up at him with an intense stare. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me lately? Tired of playing with the riffraff across town?” Kyrie smirked, but pain touched his voice and eyes.
“No, man. You know I’m busy as hell. I didn’t mean that about game night…”
“You totally did.” He narrowed his amber gaze at Greg. “Kilborne’s a slob, and he and Liv would lick your fridge clean. Their combined eating forces are the stuff of legend.”
“It’s weird. She does have an amazing appetite for a girl her size.”
“It’s her thyroid, lucky bitch. Big eyes and a stick figure. She looks like a freakin’ anime.”
Greg grinned, reaching for his beer as he sat heavily on the couch. He recalled its tumultuous state and set it back on the table.
Kyrie plopped down next to him, his knee brushing Greg’s despite the vacant cushion to the guy’s left. “Here. I said I was gonna get you good and drunk.” He took a quick tug and then pushed his bottle into Greg’s hand.
“I really don’t need it. I’m there.”
“You need something. To relax. Chill out. Live a freakin’ little. Something.” Kyrie knocked his knee into Greg’s and his hand slipped off the beer and fell onto Greg’s thigh.
“I’m… relaxed.” But the buzz was suddenly scattered by apprehension. Kyrie couldn’t be this close—touching him. Rubbing the inside of my goddamn thigh!
“Chug it.” Kyrie leaned over, his breath hoppy and sweet, his top lip still glistening from the last sip he’d taken. Greg sucked in a wavering inhalation.
The hand on his leg inched higher and squeezed while Kyrie grasped the glass over Greg’s fingers and led it to his lips.
Greg opened his mouth and managed to take a sip without choking, miracle of miracles.
“Good dog.” Kyrie grinned wickedly less than a foot from Greg’s face. He took the beer back and brought it to his own lips, the tip of his pink tongue darting out to lick the glass where Greg’s mouth had just been.
Greg almost whimpered as Kyrie sucked back a mouthful, his gaze glued to Greg’s the whole while.
Like porn when the chick maintains eye contact while giving head. Wonder if guys do that in gay movies. Despite the strange sexual attraction simmering inside him—the one that had him jerking off to visions of Kyrie way too often—Greg hadn’t had the balls to look for gay stroke films. He wasn’t even sure he’d find them appealing. He’d never even considered sleeping with men until Kyrie came along and flipped his world over like a sore loser tossing a board game.
All he knew was Kyrie’s puckered lower lip wrapped erotically around the bottle top. Paired with his gorgeous, almost challenging golden-brown stare, it sent a surge of blood to Greg’s dick so hot and fast it made him lightheaded.
“What are you looking at?” It was too close to Greg’s dream. Way too fucking close. And so was Kyrie. But instead of Greg reaching out and grasping nothing but ghost, Kyrie’s hand on his thigh pressed hard, real and reassuring. Instigating. It slid slowly inside and up while Kyrie lifted his eyebrows in question, his sweet mouth forming a tiny O that made Greg desperate to kiss him.
Greg tried to swallow, but the lump in the back of his throat didn’t move—wouldn’t allow for speech. He took a shallow breath that caught when Kyrie’s pinky wisped over his bulging cockhead. Kyrie placed the beer on the coffee table with his free hand while that little finger flirted over Greg’s ridge like it was reading braille. Reading Greg’s perverted mind through his khakis.
“Kyr—” he croaked.
“Shhh.” Kyrie leaned closer, a full hand stroking up Greg’s hard-on. “Don’t.” His lips skimmed across Greg’s, warm, soft, and tremor inducing. Greg inhaled sharply, maybe to work out a final cry for reason, but any remaining resistance fell away as Kyrie’s familiar scent overwhelmed him. Instead, he groaned as that knowledgeable hand squeezed him through his pants, and those seductive lips, a bare hint of stubble peppered above the upper one, touched down again to ply and cajole without words.
Kyrie is an actor with a physical aversion to telling lies, a one-eyed cat, and horrible taste in men. His ex-brother-in-law and best friend, Greg, harbors a secret crush he can’t shake. After denying his feelings for Kyrie for too long, Greg finally gives in to desire one drunken night. Come the morning, the facts get twisted. Kyrie pretends he doesn’t remember a thing—a lie that eats him alive—and Greg can’t stop thinking about how he screwed up the best thing in his life.
Before they can clear the air, Kyrie follows his dreams to New York City, but could he also be running away?
A mistake from Kyrie’s past detonates their silence, and Greg is forced to confront the man he loves. Is their new truth strong enough to support a relationship, or are they doomed to crumble under old fears? Their friendship could evolve into something a million times stronger, but maybe Kyrie’s act is just too hard for Greg to follow.
Bio: K. Vale writes erotic romance of all stripes, from hot hetero to mouthwatering manlove. Find her MF work published under Kimber Vale. Come for the sex. Stay for the story. Stalk Kimber on Facebook and Twitter @KimberVale, and check her site for updates, new releases, and freebies at http://www.authorkimbervale.com. The blog: http://www.kimbervale.me.
Kimber Vale is giving away a $25 Amazon gift card to celebrate her new release!