Tag Archives: Guest Post

Guest Post and Giveaway: Three Hearts by Grace R Duncan

Thanks so much to It’s About the Book for hosting me today! I’ve brought along an excerpt, and I hope you enjoy!

 

 

I was convinced Mason was trying to embarrass me to death. We walked together back to my office, hand in hand. Most of the desks were empty, though a few folks were still working and raised eyebrows when we passed. Mason made a point of kissing my hand—still clasped in his—when we passed someone. It was a little embarrassing, since I was sure everyone thought I was single up until that point, but at the same time, it felt good that he was so open about us. Continue reading Guest Post and Giveaway: Three Hearts by Grace R Duncan

Release Blitz & Giveaway: Leaning Into Love by Lane Hayes

Title:  Leaning Into Love

Series: Leaning Into Stories, #1

Author: Lane Hayes

Publisher: Self-Published

Release Date: February 10th

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: Approximately 24K words

Genre: Romance, Erotica, Friends to lovers, surfer, white collar, San Francisco, bisexual

Buy Link: Amazon

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Synopsis

Continue reading Release Blitz & Giveaway: Leaning Into Love by Lane Hayes

Release Blitz: Watching and Wanting by Jay Northcote

 
Cover Design: Garrett Leigh
Length: 52,000 words
 
Housemates Series – though a series, each book can be read as a standalone. 
Helping Hand (Book #1)  Amazon US | Amazon UK
Like A Lover (Book #2) Amazon US | Amazon UK
Practice Makes Perfect (Book #3) Amazon US | Amazon UK 
Blurb

Watching Jude’s cam show stirs desires Shawn’s always denied…

Shawn is adrift. Recently graduated, he’s stuck in a dead-end job that barely pays the bills. His girlfriend dumped him, his friends have moved on, and he’s still in Plymouth—going nowhere.

Jude is a student living in the same shared house. Out and proud, he’s everything Shawn’s been running from since he hit puberty. When Shawn discovers Jude works as a cam boy, he can’t resist the urge to watch one of his shows. It makes Shawn want things that scare him, yet his fascination forces him to confront his attraction.

Keen to explore his bicurious side, Shawn suggests they do a show together. Jude agrees, and things get complicated—and kinky—fast. But Jude isn’t looking to get involved with someone so deep in the closet. If Shawn’s going to get what he wants, he needs to find the courage to stop hiding from himself and be honest about who he is.

 
Excerpt

Back in the living room, he threw himself into his armchair again. The TV was on, showing an old episode of Prison Break, but Shawn wasn’t paying attention to it. Sunk in a black hole of despondency, he gazed surreptitiously around the room at his housemates instead.

Jude, one of the new guys who’d moved in last month, sat in a corner of one of the sofas doing something on his phone, his dark curly head bending low and the glow of the screen lighting up his angular features. Shawn wondered what he was doing—probably hooking up on Grindr or something.

That twist of discomfort flared in his gut again. He knew he shouldn’t care. It was none of his business, but the idea that Jude might be planning some hook-up with some random guy lodged in his consciousness like a stone in a shoe. Maybe it was just because Shawn was single again and would have to get back to hooking up if he wanted any action. The idea of being back on Tinder wasn’t as appealing as it should be.

Shawn turned his attention to the other sickeningly happy couple in the room. Ewan wasn’t technically one of Shawn’s housemates. He lived next door, but he might as well have moved in for the amount of time he spent there with Dev. Ewan had his arm around Dev, and as Shawn watched, he turned his ginger head and murmured something in Dev’s ear. Dev turned to look at him and they exchanged a soft smile. Then Dev pressed a kiss to Ewan’s lips, which lingered long enough to make Shawn uncomfortable.

Irrational anger bubbled up, spilling out of his mouth before he could hold the words back. “For fuck’s sake. Can’t you save that for your room?”

Dev pulled away quickly, his cheeks flaming. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Ewan glared at Shawn. “What’s your problem?”

Shawn shrugged and glared back. “I just don’t need to see it, that’s all.”

“Well, the television’s over there, so stop fucking looking at us if you don’t like it. It was just a kiss. It’s not like we’re blowing each other on the sofa or anything. Jesus.”

“Ugh. And thank you for that mental image.” Shawn did a mock shudder.

“Whoa, Shawn. What the hell’s wrong with you tonight?”

Jez’s voice cut through Shawn’s drunken, angry haze, and he realised that all eyes in the room were on him. He caught Jude’s gaze, curious and assessing, and flushed at the unwanted attention.

“You should be used to it by now,” Jez continued. “You’ve lived with me and Mac long enough. And I’ve totally caught you groping Beth on the sofa before. You don’t get a free pass for living room shenanigans just because you’re the only straight couple in the house since Dani moved out.”

That was the spark that ignited Shawn’s anger past the point of no return. “Yeah? Well, maybe I’m just tired of being surrounded by all the gay in here. I never signed up for this when we moved in together.” He stood, sloshing beer out of his nearly full bottle and onto the carpet. “I don’t have to like it.”

“Feel free to find somewhere else to live, then.”

Even Jez, who was rarely moved to anger, sounded pissed now.

“Yeah. Maybe I will.” Shawn stormed to the door, careful not to ruin his exit by walking into the coffee table again. “Oh, and for your information? Me and Beth split up today, so we won’t be the token straight couple any more.”

He slammed the door behind him and stomped up the stairs to his room on the first floor. He slammed that door too, but it didn’t make him feel any better. After throwing himself down on the bed, he clutched his pillow and let harsh sobs of fury burst out of him until the red mist receded and shame and guilt crept in to fill the place where his anger had been.

Author Bio

Jay lives just outside Bristol in the West of England. He comes from a family of writers, but always used to believe that the gene for fiction writing had passed him by. He spent years only ever writing emails, articles, or website content.

One day, Jay decided to try and write a short story—just to see if he could—and found it rather addictive. He hasn’t stopped writing since.

Jay writes contemporary romance about men who fall in love with other men. He has five books published by Dreamspinner Press, and also self-publishes under the imprint Jaybird Press. Many of his books are now available as audiobooks.

Jay is transgender and was formerly known as she/her.

www.jaynorthcote.com
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Cover Reveal: Hipster Brothel by KA Merikan

Title:  Hipster Brothel

Author: K.A. Merikan

Publisher:  Acerbi&Villani ltd.

Cover Artist: Natasha Snow

Release Date:  24th of January 2017

Heat Level: 3

Pairing: M/M

Length: 50,000 words

Genre/Tags: Contemporary Romance, Erotic Romance, M/M Romance, Hipsters, sex work, friends to lovers, bisexuality, post-break up issues, coming out, first time, alternative lifestyles, lumbersexual bear, commitment Continue reading Cover Reveal: Hipster Brothel by KA Merikan

Guest Post: “Of Christmas Past: Not Always Merry” by Teryn Day

I think a lot about happy endings, ghosts, and our relationships with the past.

When I first started thinking about Of Christmas Past, and what kind of Christmas story I wanted to tell, I kept coming back to the baggage. A lot of LGBTQIA folks don’t always have 100% good memories surrounding family holidays. I’m not saying all of us have Issues, but most of us who have had to be closeted around our extended family, or who made the choice not to be closeted around our extended family, or for those of us who lost formerly close bonds when we came out—well, the holiday season can be a little trying. LGBTQIA folks aren’t usually born into families that are like us, and it can create significant tension. In writing my Christmas story, I wanted to acknowledge that. I love its counterpart—the perfectly happy queer holiday story. They’re some of my favorites! And fear not, because Of Christmas Past still has plenty of holiday cheer, even if I want people to feel okay for not always feeling upbeat this time of year. Continue reading Guest Post: “Of Christmas Past: Not Always Merry” by Teryn Day

Guest Post and Giveaway: Hanging The Stars by Rhys Ford

Thank you for following the Hanging The Stars blog tour! I was very excited to return to Half Moon Bay and well, deliver West Harris his comeuppance. For this tour, I wanted to share a bit about the relationships the characters have with one another and just a bit of every day stuff as they prepare for their Christmas holiday.

As I am sure many of you are preparing for your holidays.

I’m going to keep this short and sweet because well… there’s a bit of story beneath this. But I do hope you stop by Half Moon Bay and catch up with West as a bit of his past returns in the form of Angel Daniels…the one man who broke his heart and took the pieces with him.

And be sure to enter this blog’s Hanging The Stars giveaway! The winner gets a $25 dollar gift certificate to the online vendor of their choice!gift_certificate

Half Moon Holiday 1

“Why are we chopping down our own tree again?” Deacon tried stamping some warmth back into his feet but all he did was jar his knees. “Jesus, I think I broke my nipples off. It’s that damned cold.”

He wasn’t sure where he was. Or rather where Lang drove them. All he knew he was bundled up that morning like he was going to climb Mount Everest and possibly arm-wrestle a Yeti. They’d driven for what felt like for hours and somehow ended up in what looked like a bit of Sherwood Forest tucked into the folds of a California hillside. The bit of snow on the ground promised a chilly morning, despite the clear sky and bright sun and that promise was delivered as soon as Deacon got out of Lang’s new Rover.

Deacon was pretty sure he was going to have to shake his balls back down once they got back to Half Moon Bay because they’d retreated from the crisp wind.

“Because it’s a family tradition,” Lang repeated patiently for what Deacon probably guessed for the hundredth time. “Or at least it was one when I lived with my grandmother. Just be glad we’re only doing one tree. Grandmother used to put up six…sometimes seven.”

“Why the hell would you need seven damned Christmas trees?” he muttered, working through the rows of trees behind Lang as his husband moved slowly through the field. “And what the heck would you put on them?”

“We’ve got a lot of ornaments. My great-grandfather had an import business, remember? The attic is full of stuff. I’ve spent weeks up there as a kid and I don’t think I’ve opened up every trunk.” Lang’s eyes grew misty, his face softened with the brush of fond memories. “Grandmother just liked Christmas trees. And food. For her, Christmas was about food and family.”

“And trees.” Deacon sidestepped a suspicious brown mound on the ground. “Tell me you didn’t have presents under all the trees or we’re going to have to have a talk with Princess Zig and expectations.”

“Only the big tree had presents under it. The one in the living room.” Lang stopped at a fragrant, tall evergreen, its needles a rich blue-grey. “It’s got to fill the front window. I like spruces. What do you like?”

“Babe, where I’m from, the trees are plastic and lopsided because they were dug out of a dumpster.” He hated the flash of pity in Lang’s glance and Deacon bit his lip, wishing he could take back his words. “It wasn’t that bad. We had Christmases. Just not… seven tree kinds.”

“To be fair, love, no one needs seven Christmas trees.” His husband reached for him, sliding a slightly chilled hand around Deacon’s waist. “We just need the one and I think I just found it.”

The tree Lang stood in front of had to be at least eight feet tall and about as wide as Deacon’s arms stretched out. It looked…expensive, something he’d see at a shopping mall or in front of a church where people arranged Nativity scenes nearby and drank spiced apple cider out of pewter mugs. It was the kind of tree that had a presence, strong enough to bear generations of ornaments and too regal for anything as crass as fake aluminum garland.

Lang looked at it like he’d just fallen in love.

“We just need to chop it down now and then they’ll come and put it in that net sleeve thing they use.” Lang eyed the ax, a dubious gleam in his eye. “Okay, I’ve never chopped down a tree in my life. You?”

“Sweetheart, until a few months ago, I’d never built an actual fire in a fireplace and I’ve just learned how to split a log. Kind of. Mostly,” Deacon reminded him. “Didn’t the guy down the hill say they’d chop it down for an extra twenty or is the bringing-the-tree-down a part of the whole tradition your grandmother started business?”

“My grandmother never chopped a tree down in her life either. Hell, she barely gardened. Mostly I think she just liked wearing big straw hats with veils on them and puttering about with white gloves on,” he frowned, scratching his cheek. “Come to think of it, the last few times we came to get the trees, I held them up while Angel hacked at the bottoms until they landed on me. Gran just pointed out the ones she wanted then headed back to sit in the car with the heaters going full blast.”

“Yeah, right.” Deacon nodded. “Want to stay here and ward off any poachers while I go get somebody to chop this thing down? Or do you want to us to take a whack at it.”

A burst of cold air struck them and Lang shivered despite Deacon taking the brunt of it. Pressing his lips together, Lang removed his steamed up glasses and gave Deacon a slow, owlish blink. The temperature seemed to drop around them as Deacon’s heartbeat skipped a little when Lang unconsciously leaned into him, seeking out Deacon’s heat.

“Here, hold onto this.” Lang handed Deacon the ax. “I’ve got a twenty in my wallet and the Rover’s got a damned good heater.”

_____________

Hanging the Stars (Half Moon Bay #2) by Rhys Ford
Angel Daniels grew up hard, one step ahead of the law and always looking over his shoulder. A grifter’s son, he’d learned every con and trick in the book but ached for a normal life. Once out on his own, Angel returns to Half Moon Bay where he once found…and then lost…love.

Now, Angel’s life is a frantic mess of schedules and chaos. Between running his bakery and raising his troubled eleven-year-old half-brother, Roman, Angel has a hectic but happy life. Then West Harris returns to Half Moon Bay and threatens to break Angel all over again by taking away the only home he and Rome ever had.

When they were young, Angel taught West how to love and laugh but when Angel moved on, West locked his heart up and threw away the key. Older and hardened, West returns to Half Moon and finds himself face-to-face with the man he’d lost. Now, West is torn between killing Angel or holding him tight.

But rekindling their passionate relationship is jeopardized as someone wants one or both of them dead, and as the terrifying danger mounts, neither man knows if the menace will bring them together or forever tear them apart.

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Purchase Hanging the Stars (Half Moon Bay #2) at: Dreamspinner, Amazon, and ARe .

Hanging the Stars Blog Tour Stops

Nov 30: It’s About the Book (https://itsaboutthebook.com/)
Dec 1: Boy Meets Boy (http://www.boymeetsboyreviews.com)
Dec 2: Love Bytes (http://lovebytesreviews.com/)
Dec 3: Prism Alliance (http://www.prismbookalliance.com/)
Dec 4: Sinfully Gay Romance (http://sinfullymmbookreviews.blogspot.com/)
Dec 5: The Novel Approach (http://thenovelapproachreviews.com/)
Dec 7: Joyfully Jay (http://joyfullyjay.com/)

About Rhys Ford
headshot_Rhys FordRhys Ford is an award-winning author with several long-running LGBT+ mystery, thriller, paranormal, and urban fantasy series and was a 2016 LAMBDA finalist with her novel, Murder and Mayhem. She is published by Dreamspinner Press and DSP Publications.

She’s also quite skeptical about bios without a dash of something personal and really, who doesn’t mention their cats, dog and cars in a bio? She shares the house with Yoshi, a grumpy tuxedo cat and Tam, a diabetic black pygmy panther, as well as a ginger cairn terrorist named Gus. Rhys is also enslaved to the upkeep a 1979 Pontiac Firebird and enjoys murdering make-believe people

Rhys’ Blog: http://www.rhysford.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/rhys.ford.author

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Rhys_Ford

Rhys Ford’s books can found at Dreamspinner Press (http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com), DSP Publications (https://www.dsppublications.com/) and all major online book stores.

THIRDS Thanksgiving Special

Thanksgiving

“Blasted hell.”

Hudson tossed the pillows off the bed, followed by the duvet. Not there either. He cursed under his breath as he continued to turn his bedroom upside down. This was ridiculous. Where could they be? He ransacked every drawer, looked under all the furniture, checked the bathroom, and even the cupboards. Nothing. Continue reading THIRDS Thanksgiving Special

“Down to the Bone” by Nicole Kimberling

Thanksgiving

The victim lay on the table and the bright lights shining down on the body allowed the Dr. Peter Fontaine to examine the injuries in great detail. The rich, flawless brown skin appeared to be nearly perfect except for the very clear presence of bite marks on the lower left leg.

Who could have taken such a depraved step? Who, seeing this perfect beauty would savagely tear into her with their teeth alone?

Peter adjusted the lights and leaned in to examine the wound more closely, photographing the jagged edges in detail.

They would need to get a forensic dentist in—to make a mold of the teeth for further identification.

Then a long shadow fell across the subject. Looking up he saw Lt. Olson standing, arms crossed over his chest observing him.

Are you finished?” he asked.

I think I need a couple more minutes to document this to narrow down the suspects,” Peter mumbled.

Suspects?” Nick moved around the table to get a clearer view of the injury that had captured Peter’s attention. “To me this seems like an open and shut case.”

Peter glanced up to see the corner of Nick’s mouth twist up in a quirky half-smile. Now that he’d fully broken the surface of his TV coroner fantasy the real world swirled in around him. He felt the heat of the kitchen and heard the music drifting up from where their guests sat in the living room.

Yet Nick stood there frowning down at the turkey like the best crime-scene re-enactor around.

“I found a resident of the house behaving suspiciously and, on a hunch, processed her coat for trace evidence,” Nick went on. “I found evidence of butter, sage and parsley.”

“What do you mean the behaving suspiciously?” Peter asked. He couldn’t believe that Nick was playing along with this. Or that he had somehow known exactly what had been going on in Peter’s head.

Had he been talking to himself out loud? Granted, that sometimes happened but usually only when he was drunk and he hadn’t had even cracked open a single Thanksgiving beer yet.

“The subject was observed standing in a corner licking her chops in an exaggerated manner.” Nick pointed to the corner of the kitchen where their cat, Gigi sat. Her long pink tongue flicked out and around her muzzle as though it was an independent creature. “I don’t think we’ll get a confession out of her, but I think if we subject her to a sniff test we’ll get a whiff of poultry. I’m pretty sure we can get a conviction.”

“But look at her.” Peter whirled around, clutching at Nick’s shirtfront. He seemed slightly taken aback but then resolved himself back into her role of sardonic detective. Peter wound his fingers harder in Nick’s sweater. “She’s clearly starving.”

They both paused to take in the decidedly round torso of their fluffy feline—nearly both broke down into laughter but somehow maintained.

“But the evidence is right there. Anyone looking at it will know there has been a crime.” Nick pointed to the molested turkey leg. “It’s out of our hands.”

“But what if we take it apart,” Peter whispered.

“You mean destroy evidence of cat lips?”

“Birds get carved all the time. All we have to do is take these legs off, slice the breast and put it on a platter.”

“Dismembering the body, huh?” Nick gave a low whistle. This attracted Gigi, who started circling his leg. “It could work.”

“No one needs to know about the cat lips.” Peter drew nearer. “The bird was already dead anyway.”

“But we know where those lips have been,” Nick pointed out. “Dark places. Nasty places.”

“We can just cut that part off,” Peter persisted. “If I leave it on the floor I’m pretty sure the remaining evidence will vanish.”

Their course decided, they set to the carcass quickly.

It was greasy work. More than once, Peter’s fingers plunged into stuffing, but in the end the bones were picked clean and the slices artfully arranged on a platter.

Nick bore the grand dish into the dining room. Peter followed behind, holding a gravy boat.

Both heard the tiny sound of cat lips smacking behind them, but neither said a word.

 

 

Nicole Kimberling lives in Bellingham, Washington with her wife, Dawn Kimberling, two bad cats as well as a wide and diverse variety of invasive and noxious weeds. Her first novel, Turnskin, won the Lambda Literary Award for Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror. She is also the author of the Bellingham Mystery Series.

The Bellingham Mystery Series is available here. I cannot recommend this series enough. READ IT!!! No, really. Go get these books and read them.