In Remembrance – Ethan Day




Ethan Day passed away this weekend.


Here is the announcement by his sister on his FB page on Sunday:

The Brightest star that we his family have ever know went out last night.  It is with the greatest sadness that our beloved son and brother Ethan/Kenny passed away last night.  We love you so much you will always be in our hearts. We his family are going to keep this page open for his friends and colleagues so that if you would like to share a story or a time that you share with Ethan/Kenny we would love to hear them.  Thank you all for being a part of this extraordinary man’s life.



Most of the LGBTQIA community…fellows authors, publishers, bloggers, readers…who also considered themselves friends as well as fans of this incredible man are still reeling from the news.  So many had just seen him at GRL (GayRomLit) in Virginia last month.  A group had visited with him at lunch two days ago near his home.  So this is so shocking.  He was so young  and so full of life.

We don’t know the details except that our world is a bit dimmer without his presence in it.  The laughter, the kindness, the vitality, and, yes, the hilarity that leapt from all his stories and characters.

I met him through his stories long before I actually met him in person.  That would be when I first read Sno Ho back in 2010, the first of the Summit City books.  I laughed until I cried, snot coming out of my nose.  How that man could  write!  I was well and thoroughly hooked from then on out.  Read everything he wrote, it was never enough.  He was always so busy with life itself it seemed!

Not just writing but helping to  organize  GRL and at one point he was the force behind Wilde City Press, a publishing house still to be missed.

For some reason, Ethan/Kenny took his time getting back to the beloved Summit City characters of Boone Daniels and Wade Walker.  He wrote two books and then went on to other stories and projects.  But then he picked this couple up again and in what has turned out to be his final novel, gave Boone and Wade their HEA in their wedding novel, Life In Union.

It’s full of hilarity, crackling, sharp dialog, hot sexy scenes, and bursting with  love in every form whether its  gay, het, familial, brotherly, friends…it’s all there.  Even a town’s love for it’s adopted  son.  There’s forgiveness, jokes, compassion, and fire.  The book shouts Ethan Day at his finest.  It’s a treasure as was he.  How timely.  How fitting. So Ethan.

His friends and fans will remember him through our memories of our times together.

His readers and fans, old and new, and ones that have yet to find him, can continue to visit through all the many wonderful stories and characters that he gave us.

Ethan Day, how we will miss you.

What Ethan Day had to say about himself:

I am a gay man living in Missouri…I can hear the gasps already!! How very un-chic of me, yes I know. It was here I was born and here I have stayed.
I’m currently single but always looking for that special someone that makes my heart skip a beat…in addition to being able to put up with my neurotic ass. The worst thing about being a romance writer is finding a real life hottie that can live up to the fantasy I create in my head and subsequently thrust upon him before actually getting to know the real him. I can hear you getting all judgie…it’s an occupational hazard!! To all my past and future boyfriends, my sincerest apologies…I can’t help myself!
I was the youngest of four children and the only boy, so needless to say, I was spoiled rotten. I’ve always had an extravagant fantasy life. When I played with my Star Wars action figures as a child, I liked to make up my own stories. Naturally, Luke Skywalker and Han Solo were totally meant for each other, and Princess Leia made a bitchin’ wise cracking Fag Hag.

I somehow managed to survive high school living in a small racist town in Southeast Missouri and emerged unscathed, realizing life was too short to pretend to be anything other than who I was. I was the little homo that could…so damn it, I did! It was all very Lifetime Movie Network meets After School Special I assure you.
After a few stints in college, I eventually signed up for a Creative Writing course. I took the class because there were no tests. For once my scholastic laziness paid off, and I found an outlet for all the fantasies running amuck in my head. It was love at first write, and I’ve been doing it off and on ever since.
Now I’ve decided it’s time to un-barricade the doors and unleash my imagination onto the world. So very sorry world!! My fantasy life is now available for public consumption and I’m desperately hoping you’re really, really hungry.







Here is a list of all of Ethan Day’s books:

Sno Ho

Life in Fusion

A Summit City Christmas

Life In Union

As You Are

At Piper’s Point

Anything For You

Self Preservation

Dreaming of You

Second Time Lucky

Northern Star

Love in La Terraza

Love Me Tomorrow

To Catch A Fox (Fox Mysteries, #1)

A Token of Time

Zombie Boyz

Melting the Slopes

Zombie Boyz: Guess Who’s Coming At Dinner

A Free Dreamer Review: A Vampire’s Heart (Ellowyn Found #1) by Kayleigh Sky


Rating: 4 stars out 5

Vampires live.

And they hunger…

Otto Jones, a cop assigned to the seemingly random murder of a vampire, would rather hide out in the nearest bar than waste his time on a dead vamp. He hates the bloodthirsty demons. But when the king of the vampires commands him to work with one of the lesser princes and find the killer, he has no choice.

Prince Jessamine Senera is ready to sacrifice his happiness in a loveless marriage for his family’s benefit… but not yet. He dreams of adventure, excitement, and true love. He lives on romance novels and detective stories and wishes he could drink synthetic blood like every other vampire. But he can’t. He needs human blood to survive and is hated by vampires and humans alike.

As Otto and Jessa draw closer to an entity that doesn’t want to be discovered, Otto finds the heart he thought long dead opening to the romance-loving Jessa. No good can possibly come from falling in love with a vampire, but when a shadowy assailant attacks Jessa, Otto will descend into the darkest pit of the earth to rescue him.

If you like vampires, mythical and urban settings, intense suspense, and happy ever after, then you’ll love this first book in the dark and mysterious Ellowyn Found trilogy!

A Vampire’s Heart is a stand-alone paranormal dystopian noir romance with a satisfying conclusion to the love story and a central mystery that weaves the trilogy together.

I’ve read a lot of vampire books but never one quite like “A Vampire’s Heart”. It’s definitely a very unique setting and one that I enjoyed a lot.

It’s not a romance in the traditional sense of the word, though we do get a HEA for the our two protagonists. It just takes them a long time to get together and it’s not really the main focus of the book. I loved that slow build at first, but when they finally did get together and managed to admit their feelings, it still find kind of abrupt. I’m not much of a mystery reader usually, but this got me really invested and I certainly did not expect the reveal of the bad guy.

The world building was truly excellent. As I said before, the setting in and of itself is pretty unique. Vampires have lived underground for millennia, but they had to leave their home because humans a few years before, after humans finally managed to screw up the environment enough. The earth is constantly moving, minor earthquakes are now an everyday occurrence. Life isn’t easy, the peace is very much a tentative things and many lives were lost in the war between humans and vampires.

Otto Jones is not a happy man. He’s an alcoholic and very much obsessed with the death of his sister. He is a haunted man, who can’t seem to find peace. I still liked him but I thought he want through a rather sudden chance of personality in the epilogue.

Jessa is really sweet. Being a drainer isn’t easy, humans and vampires alike are quick to hate you for it. I loved how pragmatic he was about his engagement, even if he was actually a real romantic.

The side characters had depth as well. I especially liked Isaac and I hope he’ll get his own book.

The tone of the book is rather dark and a little bit creepy. A perfect autumn read, for those foggy days and nights, where you never know what’s really lurking in the shadows. But the epilogue felt out of tune with the tone of the rest of the story. It actually quite bothered me, which is the main reason why I gave this “only” four stars and not five.

“A Vampire’s Heart” was an interesting break from the endless sugary-sweet romances out there. The mystery is really the main focus of the book. Even though I’m usually not a reader of mysteries, it made for an intriguing mix of genres.

If you’re looking for gorgeously sparking vampires and a sweet romance, you’ll probably want to keep looking, though.

Personally, I’m already looking forward to the next part in the series.

I’m a bit torn on what to think about the cover. I can’t quite make up my mind if I like it or if I think it’s kind of generic…

Sales Links:  Amazon

Book details: Kindle Edition, 399 pages

Expected publication: November 13th 2018 by Kiss Drunk Books

A Lila Review: Death Benefits by William Holden


Rating: 2 stars out of 5

Victor Kane isn’t an ordinary funeral director. He’s a vampire, and not an ordinary one, either. He doesn’t drink fresh blood, but rather the lifeless blood from corpses that come into his family-run business. Despite the benefits of dead blood, there’s one side effect he hasn’t come to terms with — dead blood caused erectile dysfunction.

Cliff a handsome young man who loses his husband unexpectedly in the heat of passion and calls After Care Funeral Home to help with the arrangements. When Victor and Cliff meet, though, it’s anything but business.

Cliff wants to feel again, and sex is his answer. Victor knows from experience that sex with a vampire is a powerful aphrodisiac and tries to keep Cliff at bay. Can Victor confess his identity to Cliff without ruining his chance for love?

Death Benefits is not what I expected after reading the blurb. It’s listed as an erotic romance, but even as a short erotica it didn’t work for me. It has s great premise and Victor is an interesting character but it’s not enough to carry the story.

I’m fine with the instant attraction between Victor and Cliff but I wanted a reason behind it. Even if it was momentary or an effect from Victor being a vampire. Also, Cliff detachment felt a bit out of place. Even if he was grieving from his loss, I needed more to believe he would jump into Victor’s bed mere hours after his husband’s death.

There’s no lack of lust and connection between the main characters. That part went well. I love the way Victor interacted with the dead bodies and the stories about his life before turning into a vampire. I like the ending too, it was fun and not as predictable as many other paranormal stories.

The only relevant part of the cover by Written Ink Designs is the vampire. It’s definitely too generic for the story.

Sale Links: Amazon | Nook | JMS

Book Details:
ebook, 100 pages
Published: October 13, 2018, by JMS Books
Edition Language: English

A MelanieM Review: Mary, Queen of Scotch by Rob Rosen


Rating: 4.75 stars out of 5


Four five-star Yelp reviews do you little good when you’re nailed inside a giant barrel of whiskey, which is where our intrepid private detective Barry finds himself while on the case to help his campy drag friends, all of whom have numerous secrets to hide.

If he can decide between the man he once loved and the bartender he’s falling for, successfully stay undercover as his alter-ego, Mary, Queen of Scotch, and keep one step ahead of the bad guys, plus a raucously funny meddling mom, he just might live to see that much-desired fifth review.

One of the things that just does it for me in a novel is well done dialog.  When an author nails it, has his character’s personalities fleshed out  so well, so dynamically that the words flying out of their mouths just snap with life, a vitality that rocks the reader’s world….well, job well done!   If that author can do it for more than one character but an entire cast?  Kudos and scotch.  In this case, a barrel full.

I will admit it almost did him in the beginning.  That first chapter where Barry explains, from the inside of a barrel of whiskey, how he got to the state he’s in was a little too scattered, too too, even for me, a lover of the big personality and free form inner conversations.  At places, you almost got lost in who Barry was and what was happening to him.  Luckily, Barry get the exposition out of the way. We understand that he’s a private investigator on a new case that entails him becoming a drag queen and, boom, there we are, hooked into another wonderful, weird Rob Rosen  adventure.

I was not prepared to find that my first loves in this book were Barry’s parents!  Jewish, hilarious, smart, devoted to each other and their son, the relationship between his mother and dad, parents and son, were among some of the best (and funniest) in the story. Each scene, whether with the mother or dad could have potentially veered into comedy because of the crackling dialog but the layers of understanding and love that hold those scenes up elevate above meer laughs into the acknowledgement and joy that comes from  the snarky back and forth salvos obtained from poking at people you care about.  That glint you see in the eye, that up turn on the side of the mouth before a comment is made.

And as always Rosen’s characters are a roll call of complexity, grittiness, depth, and, brash pizazz!  Most of them have been through the worst and still gotten back p on their Louboutin’s and started lip syncing.  How I love his drag queens!  This author gets under the skin of what it feels like to be a  drag queen, to be part of the sisterhood and pulls the reader in as well.

There’s a nifty mystery, a pretty realistic resolution, and yes, HFNs all around.  Barry and company are clearly I need to spend more time with, on and off the stage.   That includes his parents!

There’s romance, one Barry figures stuff out, lots of sex, mystery to solve, and all the wonderful characters and dialog this reader could want.

Even a Preface and a Afterword.  Don’t’ miss those.  You know I never do.

I love this author and Mary, Queen of Scotch is simply another great reason why.  The writing is wonderful.  the plot interesting and well made, and the characters easily people to take to heart.  I highly recommend it.

Cover: Written Ink Designs.  I start to laugh just seeing this cover.  Great job.

Sales Links:  JMS Books LLC  | Amazon

Book Details:

Kindle Edition, 227 pages
Published November 10th 2018 by JMS Books LLC
Edition Language English

A Barb the Zany Old Lady Review: Loving Loch by Kris Jacen


Rating: 3.5 stars out of 5

David Rowan finally gets a break at the end of tax season when his assistant arranges a vacation for him that was on his bucket list from his college days. The accountant is going to go to Scotland to hunt for the Loch Ness Monster, aka Nessie. But really, he just wants a rest and time to enjoy the gorgeous scenery of the beautiful, very green countryside. He ends up at a Bed and Breakfast run by a lovely busybody, with the help of her large family that includes her son, Loch, a talented artist.

The family is keeping a very big secret—they are shifters and are the infamous Loch Ness monsters captured on camera by tourists and hunters. The reason they’ve never been found? They shift back and come ashore as people. One night, David spots Loch leaving the lake, but not in his monster form—in his very naked, bubble-butt form—and it intrigues the young man to learn more about the handsome artist.

I enjoyed this story—from the MCs to the family members including the nephews—little monsters—to Isla, the mom, and to G-pa, who strips off his clothes and jumps overboard on a scenic tour Loch is doing for David. It’s a sweet tale, with humor and great characters—two sweet men who find a way to be together, and of course, a HEA.

The cover picture by Kris Jacen is of a beautiful, crystal blue lake in the Highlands is perfect for this story.

Sales Links:  MLR Press | Amazon

Book Details:

Kindle Edition, 50 pages
Published October 15th 2018 by MLR Press
Edition Language English

Rick R. Reed on the Writing Process, Influences, and his new release ‘Bigger Love (Big Love #2)’ (author guest post)


Bigger Love (Big Love #2) by Rick R. Reed
Dreamspinner Press
Cover Art:  Reese Dante


Amazon paperback |  Amazon Kindle  |   Dreamspinner Press paperback |  Dreamspinner Press ebook 

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to have Rick R. Reed here on tour for the latest story in his Big Love series, Bigger Love, Rick R. Reed. Welcome, Rick.

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words Probes BIGGER LOVE Author Rick R. Reed

How much of yourself goes into a character?

A lot. Whether I’m aware of it or not (sometimes I don’t spot it until long after a book is in print), I think a bit of myself goes into every character I write. That may be a small part or a big part. For example, in my latest, Bigger Love, I identify strongly with Truman Reid, my bullied, yet out-and-proud high school student. Like him, I suffered from being different when I was growing up (and the loathing came from both inside and out). But the wonderful thing I could do with Truman is give the strength, spirit, and self-love I wish I’d had at his age.

Have you ever had to put an ‘in progress’ story aside because of the emotional ties with it?  You were hurting with the characters or didn’t know how to proceed?

I can’t say that I have. I’m the kind of writer who starts with the first sentence and writes through to the end, never straying. Once I’m committed to a project, I finish it and always from beginning to end, never in any other order. As the kids say, “I can’t even…” However, that’s not to say things I’ve written haven’t been painful to me, especially when they hit very close to home. The books I’ve cried the most while writing were CAREGIVER, RAINING MEN, BIG LOVE, BIGGER LOVE and BLINK. Those books all came very close to my own personal life and it was impossible to write them without feeling both the pain and joy of the experiences and people who inspired them.

Who do you think is your major influence as a writer?  Now and growing up?

In real life, that would be my college creative writing professor, Milton White, who was an old, gay man, who wrote a couple of brilliant books that no one, sadly read (A Yale Man and Listen, the Red-Eyed Vireo). Milton was funny, abrasive, and demanding when it came to teaching and he imparted so much wisdom to me about writing. For example, one of the many lessons I learned from him was that there’s a big difference between simple and simplistic. You always want to strive for the former. In the book world, authors like Patricia Highsmith, Ruth Rendell, Flannery O’Connor and Stephen King all shaped who I am as a writer today. I have endless admiration for them and only hope that my work perhaps just begins to approach their talent and world-view.

How do you feel about the ebook format and where do you see it going?

It’s here to stay. Look at Amazon, who are just this month releasing a new version of the Kindle Paperwhite, so there must be some demand for it. Take a look at any royalty statement I get, where ebooks outsell print books easily by 100 to 1. And personally, I read almost everything these days on my Kindle or on my phone/iPad on the Kindle app. Books are books and whether they’re paper or pixels, it’s the idea and the imagination that counts, not the vessel in which they’re conveyed to you.

If you write contemporary romance, is there such a thing as making a main character too “real”?  Do you think you can bring too many faults into a character that eventually it becomes too flawed to become a love interest?

No. I believe it’s our flaws that provide conflict and make characters interesting. Flaws are something that can, during the course of a story, be improved upon, especially by the redemptive power of love. That power is a common theme in my work and brings about the most joyous changes among my characters and leads to their happy-ever-after. The more flawed the character, the greater the redemption and, I think, the more satisfying the story.


What’s  the wildest scene you’ve imagined and did it make it into a story?

Here you go. This is from a novella you can get on Amazon for only $1.99 called OUT ON THE NET (


A Visit to a Rest Stop

Oh, I know what you’re going to say when you see the title of this entry. You’ll roll your eyes and say, “Now, I understand why this blog is labeled ‘adult content.’” And you’re probably thinking that things are going to get juicy and scandalous.

Because everyone in Summitville knows what goes on at that little rest stop just north of town, on the way to the highway. There’s a reason people snicker about it and call it “Lollipop Park.”

Are you rolling your eyes and hoping in every sense of the phrase that I will not go there?

Hang on to your hats, boys and girls, because I did go there. Sordid. Seedy. Shameful. I know. I went there in real life and I’m going there now on paper. Hang on, it’s going to be a bumpy ride!

But I didn’t yet tell you why I drove out there just a couple of weeks after the disaster that was to have been my wedding day. And I haven’t yet related what happened there, so just hold your horses on your judgments, Mary. I am trying to learn to talk as I imagine a gay man would and it’s not coming easy. Case in point—calling you “Mary.” So stupid.

Anyway, Summitville, PA has no gay bars, no gay clubs, no gay newspaper. To the untrained eye, one might even claim the little riverside town has no gay people, but discerning minds know that in a town of 12,000, that can’t be true. If you take the more or less accepted rule of thumb of one in every ten people is gay (don’t ask me where I got that statistic; I’ve heard it all my life), that would mean there are at least 1200 people here just like me, or at least like me in that they prefer sausage over pie or vice versa.

I digress. Why did I stop by the rest stop, when I neither needed to rest, nor to pee? What made me go to that shadowy, stinking-of-excrement, gravel-fronted little rest stop with the obscene graffiti and lone men lingering too long in parked cars? What would possess a nice, clean, upstanding guy like me to wander out to a place known for anonymous sexual encounters?

Curiosity. Don’t give me that crap about killing the cat, either. It was curiosity. Because, you see, even though I knew now that I was a gay man, I had no idea what gay men did, where they went, how they met. Maybe if I lived in that big city to the west, Pittsburgh, with its gay bars and clubs, I would have a better idea. But here in Summitville, where when people think of “cornholing,” they think of a summertime game played with beanbags and slotted boards, I just hadn’t had much opportunity to know much about gay life—the ins and outs of it (yes, I hear you snickering…shut up!).

Ergo the rest stop, rest area, Lollipop Park, whatever you wanted to call it. It was my only frame of reference for where gay men met up. I had driven by many times, on my way to the mall, and had heard the whisperings and jokes about the place, had even pretended to find the idea of such a locale humorous. But when I was alone, I put the humor aside and toyed with the rumors I’d heard—that men sucked each other off in the woods nearby and sometimes even right there in the stalls; that guys picked each other up and went back to each other’s home for God knew what. Parcheesi? Root beer floats? I don’t think so. These ideas made me feel paradoxically sick and weak and, at the same time, queasy with desire.

So I decided that my first act as a gay man should be to meet another one. And my very limited frame of reference left this as my only option. The idea of driving up to Pittsburgh or down to Steubenville and setting foot in one of the gay bars there filled me with terror. I was so not ready to mingle with my more urban, and sophisticated, gay brethren.

So I was stuck with this seedy and unseemly choice. I pulled into the gravel parking lot, where several other cars were already sitting, and shrugged. What would be the worst that could happen? Okay, okay, I could be fag bashed or arrested…that would be the worst. But if I was careful, maybe I would come out of this at least knowing someone else like myself and maybe, oh God, just maybe, I would have my first sexual encounter with a man.

Whoa there, boy, you’re getting ahead of yourself! I quieted the lustful thoughts and the rising erection that both seemed to arrive of their own accord, with no prompting from me.

I sat in my car and looked around the little parking lot. It was around nine o’clock, dusky. A few fireflies danced in the air over the grassy area just ahead of our cars, where the Summitville park district had kindly put out a pair of decrepit looking picnic tables. Who would want to picnic here? And what was on the menu?

Shut up with the weenies comment, please!

Because of the dying light and the setting sun reflecting off car glass, it was hard to see any of the other occupants of the three other vehicles in the lot. One thing was for sure, though: from the silhouettes, I could tell that a lone male occupied each car. One of them was smoking; I could see the glow of the cherry at the tip of his cigarette as he brought it to his mouth and drew in.

What was I supposed to do now? I didn’t know, so I just sat in my car, the butterflies dancing in my stomach, for what seemed like hours, but was, in reality, only about fifteen minutes or so. I drew in a deep breath and gathered up my courage. Someone had to start something.

I rolled up my car windows and exited my Kia Soul, closing the door softly behind me. I used the remote over my shoulder to lock the car up as I headed to the little cinder block structure to my left. Even from here, the word, “MEN” beckoned in white on a blue background.


I went inside and thought of uttering that old Bette Davis line, “What a dump!” and then chastised myself for being such a queen.

But the shitter, er, the restroom was not exactly a sight for sore eyes. It was dingy and dark, the only illumination came from a bare, low-watt bulb hanging from the ceiling. The paint-peeling industrial green walls looked like they would be damp to the touch. Flies buzzed around, obviously delighted with the luxurious accommodations. Cigarette butts and toilet paper littered the floor. Twin pieces of reflective metal, trying hard to find their motivation as mirrors, had been affixed to the wall above a pair of old, dripping, and rust-stained sink. On one wall was mounted a dispenser out of which one could get a condom for just a quarter. What was that doing here? The whole place stank of urine and shit.

Isn’t it romantic?

If this was gay life, perhaps I should crawl back to Alice on my hands and knees and beg for forgiveness.

But, as the saying goes, “in for a penny, in for a pound,” I thought I should at least check out the rest of the place. See what some witty scribes had written on partition walls…

I headed over to the two toilet stalls and, after wiping the seat with a piece of single-ply toilet paper, I nervously sat down. Even though I had wiped the seat, I didn’t feel comfortable enough to lower my cargo shorts.

The first thing I spied was some graffiti that said, “10-4 good buddy, this is the place, pull down your pants and fuck my face.”


I wondered what poet wannabe had written those lines on the wall and if any burly trucker had ever heeded its siren call. I searched in vain for more rhyming couplets, but none of the other graffiti matched its poetic flair. In fact, the rest of it was downright crude, exhortations to suck and be sucked, to fuck and be fucked, penis sizes, and messages left by people who cared so little about their privacy that they left phone numbers.

I could not imagine calling one of those numbers…or what kind of person would be hanging out on the other end of the line.

I stiffened—and not in a good way—as I heard footsteps. It was then that I noticed the hole drilled into the partition wall. It was just the right size to fit a hand—or, oh my Sweet Jesus, another part of the anatomy—through and positioned at waist height.

Did people really use that hole for what I thought they did?

Was there no romance in the gay world?

The footsteps neared my stall, and because there was no front door, I locked eyes with my new restroom buddy. He stopped in front of my stall and stared at me. I didn’t know what to do. Even though my shorts were up, I placed my hand over my crotch.

He had his hand over his crotch, too, and was rubbing it suggestively. He squeezed and I could see the outline of an erect cock beneath the denim.

Suddenly, my mouth felt dry and my heart was beating at double its usual rate. Good Lord, when had it gotten dark outside?

I eyed the man and he met my stare almost with a challenge in his eyes. He was about my age, but had long, stringy blond hair. He was too skinny and his bare arms (he was wearing a grimy wife-beater) were tattooed up and down their sinewy lengths. A hoop earring dangled from one ear, peeking in and out from the strings of his platinum locks as he glanced down at his own crotch, as if making sure it was still there.

My mouth was dry and I wanted to lick my lips, but was afraid of giving the wrong idea. I was learning fast that the language spoken here was with the eyes and not-so-subtle gestures.

Finally, he smiled at me and I saw he had what my mom used to refer to as “summer teeth.” Some are here. Some are there.

Suddenly, he reached for my crotch, as if to give it a neighborly squeeze. I swung my legs around to ensure his intended was out of his reach.

He sighed impatiently and ducked quickly into the stall next to mine. For a long time, there was silence and I dared not hazard a peek through the hole in the wall to see what my new buddy was up to.

But finally, I could stand the suspense no longer. I leaned forward a little, positioning my eye so it was level with the hole.

Boy, did I get an eyeful. Mr. Summer Teeth had had no compunction about dropping his drawers and working himself up into a frenzy. A huge cock, what I would estimate to be between eight or nine inches, rose up from between his tanned thighs. He worked it hard and there was a drop of precum poised at the slit in his head.

I have to admit it. My mouth wasn’t so dry anymore.

I watched. I think I was a little in shock. All kinds of things were running through me, making me feel both nauseous and lustful. I wanted that thing. I needed to get the hell out of here now.

He must have noticed me peering through the hole because the next thing I knew that big missile was coming right through it. Hey, buddy, watch it! You could take out someone’s eye with that thing!

Suddenly the cock was right in front of my face, dripping precum. With just a slight lean forward, I could have the pleasure of tracing a bulging purple vein with my tongue.

Did I touch it? Did I take it in my mouth?

Are you crazy? I ran out of there as fast as I could and if it didn’t mean being labeled as a drama queen, I would have said I rushed out screaming into the night.

As I drove away, tires sending up a spray of gravel behind me, I wondered if I would ever make a very good gay.


Ever drunk written a chapter and then read it the next day and still been happy with it?  Trust me there’s a whole world of us drunk writers dying to know.

Being drunk is not a time to write. Neither is being high. I’m well-acquainted with both and am happy to say I’ve mixed lots of things with both states, but never my writing. That says something about me, but I’ll leave it to you to figure out what.


If you could imagine the best possible place for you to write, where would that be and why?

My home office, with no distractions, and my dog snoring behind me as I write.



Truman Reid is Summitville High’s most out-and-proud senior. He can’t wait to take his fierce, uncompromising self away from his small Ohio River hometown, where he’s suffered more than his share of bullying. He’s looking forward to bright lights and a big city. Maybe he’ll be the first gender-fluid star to ever win an Academy Award. But all that changes on the first day of school when he locks eyes with the most gorgeous hunk he’s ever seen.

Mike Stewart, big, dark-haired, and with the most amazing blue eyes, is new to town. He’s quiet, manly, and has the sexy air of a lost soul. It’s almost love at first sight for Truman. He thinks that love could deepen when Mike becomes part of the stage crew for Harvey, the senior class play Truman’s directing. But is Mike even gay? And how will it work when Truman’s mother is falling for Mike’s dad?

Plus Truman, never the norm, makes a daring and controversial choice for the production that has the whole town up in arms.

See how it all plays out on a stage of love, laughter, tears, and sticking up for one’s essential self….

About the Author RICK R. REED 

Real Men. True Love.

Rick R. Reed draws inspiration from the lives of gay men to craft stories that quicken the heartbeat, engage emotions, and keep the pages turning. Although he dabbles in horror, dark suspense, and comedy, his attention always returns to the power of love. He’s the award-winning and bestselling author of more than fifty works of published fiction and is forever at work on yet another book. Lambda Literary has called him: “A writer that doesn’t disappoint…” You can find him at or Rick lives in Palm Springs, CA with his beloved husband and their fierce Chihuahua/Shiba Inu mix.


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New Release Tour for Lucky Town by Morgan Brice (excerpt and giveaway)


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A Badlands Novella



RELEASE DATE: 11.01.18

Lucky Town Cover 

Cover by Natania Barron


Psychic medium Simon Kincaide and his boyfriend, Myrtle Beach homicide detective Vic D’Amato, find that the only thing more frightening than murder might be navigating their first holiday season as a couple.

A trip back to Pittsburgh to spend Thanksgiving with Vic’s large, exuberant family means dodging old frenemies and a bitter ex-boyfriend. A cold case comes back to haunt Vic when the murdered man’s ghost begs Simon for justice. Then a new murder in Myrtle Beach looks suspiciously familiar, and the dead woman’s ghost isn’t playing nice. When Simon gets a vision of the next victim before the crime occurs, he realizes that all the murders are supernaturally linked. Catching the murderer will take his psychic sleuthing skills along with Vic’s street smarts to avert a tragedy. Can they do right by ghosts past, present and yet-to-come without ending up in the crosshairs of a killer for Christmas?

Lucky Town is 1.5 in the Badlands series

Lucky Town Teaser 2 


“Remind me why we decided to repaint right before Thanksgiving?” Simon Kincaide wiped a smear of paint off his forehead after he put down the roller.

“So all the new paint stink can go away while we’re in Pittsburgh,” Vic D’Amato replied.

Simon paused to admire the view. His boyfriend’s ass looked mighty fine up on that ladder, and the old jeans and t-shirt were just a little too snug. The tribal tat sleeve always made Simon’s heart race, and he lost a few seconds thinking about the other places Vic had ink and how much he wanted to lick those spots, later that night.

“Simon! Focus!” Vic sounded fondly annoyed as if he knew exactly where Simon’s mind had wandered.

“I was focusing,” Simon grumbled with a smile.

“Yeah, on my ass.”

“Vain, much?”

Vic grinned. “You were, weren’t you? Let’s finish the room and clean up, and I’ll give you something to focus on in the shower.”

“Hell, yes!” Simon adjusted himself in his jeans and went back to work with a renewed sense of purpose. Normally, painting didn’t put him in such a good mood, but the reason for the spruce-up certainly did.

After months of dating, Vic was finally moving in with him and they had decided to get a jump on making some updates. That suited Simon just fine, since the “blue bungalow” still was largely in the shape it had been when he bought it from his aunt and uncle three years ago. They had stopped wintering in Myrtle Beach for health reasons, and Simon, who had fled to the beach after his life in Columbia, SC fell apart, needed a place to stay. They’d sold it to him for a fraction of the value, insisting he take it, and Simon had fallen in love with the retro fifties vacation home only a few blocks from the ocean and from his shop, Grand Strand Ghost Tours. Now, it proved lucky that the bungalow was close to the Myrtle Beach Police Department, so that Vic could also walk to work.

Simon hummed as he painted. He reached up to adjust the bandana he had tied to keep the paint out of his chestnut-brown man bun. During the summer, the sun added golden streaks to his hair, but now that it was nearly Thanksgiving those had faded, and he was seriously thinking about getting highlights to replace them. Vic would probably never let me live it down, even though he’d secretly love it.

He and Vic were a study in contrasts. Vic’s black hair was cut in a fade, buzzed on the sides and longer on top. His olive skin still hadn’t lost the dark summer tan Simon could never acquire, even if he spent all day, every day, baking on the beach. Vic was all muscle, with biceps and thighs that made Simon hard just thinking about them. Add the gun and badge, and homicide detective Lieutenant Vic D’Amato was one hot honey.

Simon still wondered how he got so lucky. At five foot, ten inches, he was a solid four inches shorter than Vic, and his hair fell to his shoulders when he didn’t put it up. Simon had a slender build with lean muscle, and while Vic let him know in a million ways that he found Simon very attractive, Simon had spent more time focused on academics than the gym. He’d earned a Ph.D. in Folklore and Mythology and looked like he had it made, with a tenure-track teaching position at the University of South Carolina and a handsome fiancée. Then the father of one of Simon’s students had a fit about the “occult” subjects Simon was teaching, and his gifts as a psychic medium sealed his fate. He’d been fired, and Jacen, his fiancée, decided that Simon was a liability to his own ambitions, cutting him loose. Simon had come to Myrtle Beach to lick his wounds, then decided to stay and open Grand Strand Ghost Tours. Three years later, he couldn’t imagine living anywhere else, and didn’t want to be anywhere without Vic.

“I hope you like the way the new paint looks,” Vic said as he climbed down the ladder, bringing his nearly empty tray and roller with him. He sounded hesitant, and Simon knew his lover was worried about making too many changes.

“I love it,” Simon said, pulling Vic in for a kiss. They were both sweaty and reeked of paint. That just gave the whole thing a “naughty handyman” vibe in Simon’s mind. “And I love that you’re moving in.”

“Love you, too,” Vic replied, returning the kiss. “And the neighbors already think I live here. The only stuff left in my apartment are the boxes I never unpacked from Pittsburgh.”

“Saved you from doing it twice,” Simon joked, although the mention of Pittsburgh dimmed his mood, just a little.

They pitched the disposable liner trays and rollers, put the lids on the cans and washed out the brushes, then headed for the bathroom, careful not to touch any of the wet paint on the walls. The bungalow wasn’t that big, but trying to paint several rooms in one weekend felt like it had expanded to be a McMansion.

Vic chucked his paint clothes at the laundry room door, and walked the rest of the way naked, shooting a mischievous glance at Simon over his shoulder. Simon wolf whistled, then did the same, sprinting to catch up.


Morgan Brice is the romance pen name of bestselling author Gail Z. Martin. Morgan writes urban fantasy male/male paranormal romance, with plenty of action, adventure and supernatural thrills to go with the happily ever after. Gail writes epic fantasy and urban fantasy, and together with co-author hubby Larry N. Martin, steampunk and comedic horror, all of which have less romance, more explosions. Characters from her Gail books make frequent appearances in secondary roles in her Morgan books, and vice versa.

On the rare occasions Morgan isn’t writing, she’s either reading, cooking, or spoiling two very pampered dogs.

Other books include Witchbane, Burn, Dark Rivers, and Badlands. Watch for more in these series, plus new series coming soon!

Facebook Group: The Worlds of Morgan Brice

Pinterest (for Morgan and Gail)

Twitter: @MorganBriceBook

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New Release Blitz for Beat of Their Own Drum (Replay #3) by KM Neuhold (excerpt)


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RELEASE DATE: 11.08.18

Beat of their own drum cover 



Every rock band needs their bad boy. Hookers, drugs, DUIs— been there, done that. I’m in a Downward Spiral and proud of it (see what I did there?). When the band manager, Archer, hires Bennett to keep me from screwing up while the band is on hiatus, I may have finally met someone who won’t take my attitude lying down. With the three of us cooped up together for weeks on end, I have a feeling things might get interesting.


Downward Spiral is my baby. Not only am I the band manager, I discovered them ten years ago when they were nothing but a bunch of high school kids playing in a hole in the wall bar on the weekends. But it’s obvious I haven’t done a great job because they’re falling apart. If the lead singer isn’t trying to kill himself, it’s the bass player telling me he can’t write any new songs. And no one gets under my skin more than Jude, who seems determined to snort and drink himself into an early grave. There’s only one man I can think of who might be able to get Jude back on the right track, Bennett Schmitt. Unfortunately, he’s also the man I let get away sixteen years ago and haven’t gotten over since.


If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s take control of a situation. In fact, control is kind of my thing. Which is probably why I’m the best in the business when it comes to getting out of control celebrities back on track. When my ex calls and tells me he’s desperate for my help, I can’t turn him down. Between the infuriatingly sexy drummer with no idea what kind of trouble he’s asking for, and my ex looking better than ever, there’s no way this isn’t about to get messy.

* This is an MMM romance with D/s play and mild daddy kink (NO age play)

BotoD teaser 1


“I didn’t realize I signed up for fucking boot camp,” I grumble, considering throwing my pillow at his head to get him to leave.

“I’ve helped a lot of people, celebrities included, recover from drug addiction and turn their lives around. The cornerstone of my treatment plan is sticking to a schedule.”

“A schedule?” I ask, allowing a mocking tone to drip from my voice. “Quick question for you sir.” It’s impossible to miss the way Bennett’s eyes flare, and I wonder what it means. “Is there any room in the schedule for jerking off, because I usually tug one out when I wake up and I prefer to take my time.” I kick my covers down, palming my hard cock through my boxers, holding Bennett’s gaze as I rub myself.

His eyes darken, reminding me of the sky right before a storm. A little thrill of fear goes through me, making my erection jump in my hand.

“How about I tell you when you’re allowed to jerk off? Does that work for you?” His voice is even lower and rougher than it was before, and again, my cock jerks with excitement. I bristle at the suggestion, even as part of me shouts yes.

“How about if you go fuck yourself?” I snap back.

Without warning, Bennett’s large hand wraps around my ankle, yanking me down to the edge of the bed and startling a yelp of surprise from me. He leans down, into my personal space, until our faces are only inches apart. I fight to keep my expression a mask of bored defiance.

“You’re used to getting your way, which is why you’re such a petulant little brat,” Bennett observes in a conversational tone. “But I’m going to tell you a little secret. I don’t give a flying fuck what you want right now. You’re going to get your skinny ass out of bed and put some goddamn clothes on like I told you to.”

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I’m an author of m/m and new adult romance. I have a strong passion for writing characters with a lot of heart and soul, and a bit of humor as well.







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