0Check Out This Fab Tour for “Gear Child“ by Mark David Campbell (excerpt and extras)

Mark David Campbell has a new queer YA sci-fantasy book out (gay, lesbian, homonormative) Gear Box book 1: Gear Child.

From our beloved teddy bear to our cherished first car, we form deep emotional bonds with inanimate objects. Will AI machines inevitably develop the capacity to love us in return?

In a post-apocalyptic world that survives on garbage left over from the Gawd Wars eight generations ago, Sunny Boy, a semi-organic machine initially made to emulate a thirteen-year-old, and later modified as an eighteen-year-old, longs to be loved. His quest to find a family takes him from a farm in Winnipeg to the far reaches of the known galaxy. When Sunny Boy becomes embroiled in an ancient battle between a collective intelligence and a parasitic alien crystal, the boundaries between organic and inorganic life are called into question.

Warnings: Very low sex and violence (no gun play)

Series Blurb

The Gear Box Trilogy, which includes: Gear Child, The Arena of Mayhem, and The Wayward Star, is a journey of the heart that takes you from a devastated post-Gawd Wars Earth, across the Solar System to the far reaches of the galaxy, and explores the line between inanimate machine and animate life form.

Told from the perspectives of Sunny Boy, Fancy Larry, and Loofahâthree AI machinesâwho understand the world around them through symbols, metaphors, and allegories. Along with their capacity for creative thought, empathy, and growth, they likewise struggle with issues of self-identity and self-esteem. Most of all, Sunny Boy, Fancy Larry, and Loofah, like any intelligent being, crave acceptance and long to be loved.

Buy Links:

Gear Child: Universal Buy Link | Goodreads

The Arena of Mayhem: The Arena of Mayhem | Goodreads

The Wayward Star: The Wayward Star | Goodreads

Find All Three Books Here (Click on the Cover for More Details)

Excerpt

From Chapter Thirteen

I unlatched the glass, and a salty, humid breeze blew into the cabin like it was saying welcome. In no time, the burnt land below us gave way to water, and the Captain veered the airship southward.

In the distance, I made out the silhouettes of broken and battered glass and steel towers all jutting out of the ocean like fingers of drowning men reaching up to be saved. I watched as the shadow of our airship glided along the surface of the water, silently sliding over the towers.

âIs that a city?â

âOnce was.â The Captain nodded. âGreatest in the world. But thatâs all thatâs left of it.â

âWhy is it underwater?â

âHa!â the Captain snorted. âIt happened a long time ago, during the Gawd Wars and the Great Flood, when my great-great-great-granddaddy was a boy.â The Captain scratched his head. âSee, way back then, everybody had their own books full of old stories about Gawd. Most of the stories were the same, but everybody told them in a different way.â He furrowed his brow. âPeople started fighting and killing one another to prove their way of telling the stories was right, and the way other people told the stories was wrong.â

I looked at him with my mouth hanging open, trying hard to understand why people wanted to kill each other over a bunch of old stories.

âWas Gawd bad?â

âNo, I donât think so.â He shook his head. âBut by the time everybody got tired of killing one another and blaming it on Gawdâ¦â The Captain cleared his throat. âTheyâd already blown up all the big cities and poisoned the land. And as if that werenât enough, theyâd also melted the polar ice caps and flooded everything remaining along the coast.â Taking his beard in his hand, he stroked it a couple of times. âPeople donât talk much about Gawd anymore.â

âIs that the hand of Gawd?â I pointed to a giant green hand sticking up above the surface of the water, holding what looked like a torch.

âNo. Thatâs the hand of a giant woman. She was one of the idols they used to worship a long time ago.â He eased the throttle and floated the ship in closer so I could get a better look.

âWhat happened to her?â I tried to make out her body and head below the surface of the water, but all I saw was a cluster of barnacles and algae.

âI guess she got old and tired, and people had no use for her anymore.â The Captain veered the ship southward and pulled on the big wheel. Leaving the city of dead fingers behind, we continued on down the coast, rising slowly toward the jet stream, again.

âOh, please! Who do you think designed robos in the first placeâthe military! And it wasnât only for cleaning and sex.â

âOnly those who get caught are sorry.â

I thought about all the people who had died, and I felt sad, but mostly I felt sad because my name would never be recorded there or anywhere else.

âHey, kid, donât feel bad. Itâs not about you. That boyâs headâs so full of crap, he wouldnât know a ray of sunshine even if it was beaming up his butt hole.â

He swept the scanner across the pilotâs groin, looked at it, and laughed. âYou’ve got nothing to worry about. Your sperm look like a bowl full of goldfish somebody forgot to feed.â

âI thought I was dead.â He grasped both my hands. âWho are you? Some kind of a superhero?â

I felt my face flush. âNo, Iâm only a robo.â

He took my hand and kissed it. âNot to me.â

âSomething tells me weâve just met the resistance.â

Spinner frowned. âBeyond those doors, thereâs nothing for me. Iâm not like you.â

âIâm a robo, like you.â

âNo, youâre not!â Spinner practically spat out the words. âYou can grow, adapt, and evolve. I canât. This is all I can ever be.â

âWeâll go to the opera and art galleries. Youâll learn about second-hand stores and how to shop for bargains, weâll create and redecorate, dance the night away, and sit in cafes trashing the latest clothing trends until the sun comes up.â

Author Bio

I have a passion for science/speculative fiction that is socially and culturally driven. Maybe thatâs why I studied anthropology and archaeology.

My recent publications include: Eating the Moon (NineStar Press, 2021), a dystopic story of an elderly anthropologist who stumbles across a hidden society where homosexuality is the norm and heterosexuals are marginalized. Secrets of Ishtabay (Ninestar Press, 2023) is the story of a Maya village in Belize, which struggles with its transition to globalization after the completion of a highway linking it to the outside world. The Homework Assignment (Polar Borealis Magazine of Canadian Speculative Fiction, March 2025) is a short story about an anthropology professor who asks his students to imagine first contact with an alien intelligence with whom they share only one sense.

Currently, I live in Milan, Italy, with my husband. When Iâm not writing, I work with Italian sociologists, biologists, and psychoanalysts, assisting them with their English academic publications. I enjoy reading both classic and newer books, immersing myself in steampunk and futurism. I love adventure stories, and most of all, I want to fall in love with a great MC. I am dyslexic, which means I canât spell, and I have a love/hate relationship with computers and the internet.

Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/markdavid.campbell.9

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/list/14116939.Mark_David_Campbell

Author Liminal Fiction: https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/mark-david-campbell/

Review: Four Bears Construction Bonus Scenes by K.M. Neuhold

Rating: 4🌈

Stories from the small town of Fall Crosse and Four Bears Construction include:

Happy Birthday Honey (Cole and Ren)

Baby Goats (Stone and Dare)

Stone and Dare’s Wedding – ditto

Christmas Butt Plug. (Everett and Watson)

Tequila Wedding (Ollie and Daniel)

GOATS LIKE CAKE TOO – Four Bears Epilogue

Each one is exactly what the author says, a short scene from the couple’s life. Cute or sexy or both. The stories are a terrific way to close out the series and say goodbye to these characters and their HEA’s.

If you love them and want to see more of their lives, this is just the thing for you.

Four Bears Construction series- 8 books

Related series:

Big Bull Mechanics series

Ink Slingers series

Check out this new release”Don’t Let Me Drown“ by Andy Siege (Other Worlds Ink Tour and excerpt)

Andy Siege has a new queer magical realism romance out (bi male, intersex female): Don’t Let Me Drown.

Traumatised by his experiences as a war photographer, Aaron is drowning in guilt and tranquilisers. On a new assignment to document the civil conflict in the African country of Miberia, he is paralysed by the belief that terrible things only happen so that he can capture them on camera.

When he meets Mary, a young woman in danger because she is intersex, he’s convinced that if he can just save her, it will redeem him for all the other deaths he’s witnessed.

So begins a race to the border, one step ahead of the rebel army. But as love grows between them and the country is submerged in innocent blood, Aaron comes to understand that he’s not saving Mary. She’s saving him.

Amidst the horrors of war, can Aaron rediscover hope?

Warnings: Violence, Drug Abuse, Depression, Explicit Sex

About the Series:

Unusual stories about racially diverse, neurodivergent characters of marginalised orientations and gender alignments. Enter bizarre, thought-provoking new worlds in these speculative novellas that explore deeply relevant themes in an irreverent way.

These are stand-alone novellas and can be read in any order.

Get It On Amazon

Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

I’m chilling at the bottom of a swimming pool. Being down here, deep underwater, feels amazing. I can’t hold my breath forever though. I wish I could, or that maybe I would drown. Unfortunately, that’s not how human beings work, and eventually my stupid survival instincts will force me to resurface.

Did you know that crocodiles can hold their breath for up to an hour?

I’m behaving like an idiot and I should be embarrassed. I’m an adult and I need to get out and get dressed. I have responsibilities and a job to do. I’m an award-winning photographer, for fuck’s sake. I worked hard to get where I am.

I haven’t taken a photograph since Greece. The last picture I took was of a drowned toddler in a Mickey Mouse T-shirt, curled up on the beach with shallow waves lapping at his little body. The boy and his entire family tried to come over to Europe by motorboat, but a storm flipped them over and they all died. The toddler’s father, mother, and two sisters lay washed up further down the sandbank, with bloated bellies and wide-open eyes.

The Aegean Sea is beautiful at sunrise. I must have taken a thousand photographs with my most expensive Ceica Camera, but only that one specific picture was broadcast around the world. You’ve probably seen it in a newspaper or on TV. In the photograph, the little boy in the Mickey Mouse shirt looks like he’s sleeping, except that his lips are just a bit too blue, and his face is too relaxed. Also, a child wouldn’t be sleeping right in the surf as the sun rises over the Aegean.

My lungs start to burn and there is a kind of pressure building inside my brain, pushing me to resurface out of the swimming pool. I manage to hold my breath for a few more seconds while I rise, and then I pop my head out of the water and gasp.

Soft reggae tunes float through the air, and I smell curry and wood smoke from the buffet by the bar. I’m alone at the pool, apart from one high-class prostitute who is reclining in a pool chair, sipping water through a straw.

The African country of Miberia is at war, so the Western tourists and professionals have all left the country. The only foreigners still here are diplomats, weapons dealers, and journalists like me. I’m staying at the Crystal Hotel, which is a Chinese style high rise, painted blue and with bluish window glass. Even though it’s almost happy hour, and the buffet is extravagant, there’s no one at the bar. I arrived this morning, and the only other guests I saw at lunch were a pair of sketchy looking Asian businessmen.

I was supposed to take a taxi to the outskirts of the city today, to start photographing refugees, but I didn’t. The problem I have right now is a complex state of artistic paralysis. I haven’t taken a picture in many months. You see, people think that I’m good at taking photographs, but the truth is that every good picture I’ve ever taken mystifies me. When I got that major award for the picture of the drowned toddler, I pretended to know what I did to deserve it. But actually, I don’t know what I did, and I fear that I’ll never take a picture that good ever again.

I swim to the edge of the pool and then hoist myself up and out. I have a towel and a papaya vodka cocktail waiting for me on a rickety iron table. I dry myself off and down the drink, while doing a casual sweep of my surroundings. The walls around the hotel courtyard are tall and topped with razor wire. I wonder if they added the razor wire because of the war outside or if it has always been there. I hear a gunshot off in the distance. Somewhere in the city, someone may have just lost their life, and I wasn’t there to take the picture.

I believe in fate. I believe that things happen for a reason. But that poses an ethical problem. You see, I’m a war photographer, so when I take a picture of something horrible, I ask myself if that horrible thing happened just so that I could take a picture of it. Do you follow? I ask myself if the act of me taking a photograph caused the drowning of that little boy in the Mickey Mouse shirt. The obvious answer is no, but hear me out. That little boy’s death, together with my camera, sparked a global conversation about refugees. Fate?

The high-class prostitute on the other side of the pool just winked at me. I don’t find her particularly sexy. I haven’t found anyone sexy in a long time, actually. My libido seems to have died with that toddler in Greece. I can still appreciate the aesthetics of a beautiful person, healthy skin, good teeth, an outgoing personality, but I just can’t get a boner anymore. I shake my head at the prostitute so that she gets it.

There’s a war going on in Miberia. A complex, brutal, bloody beast of a war, and I’m here to take pictures. So now I ask myself, does my presence here mean that bad things will happen just so that I can photograph them? If that’s true, then it might be better if I just stay at the Crystal Hotel, if I don’t venture out into the city, out into the countryside where entire villages are getting butchered. Maybe my presence out there will cause more atrocities to happen. That’s a crippling thought.

I make my way over to the buffet by the bar. There’s roasted chicken and rice that smells like curry and cinnamon. I load my plate with the exotic food and take a seat at a small table. The chow is delicious, probably because the ingredients are much fresher than anything from the supermarket back in Canada. I feel a little shitty though, because I know that while I’m pigging out, about thirty percent of the population of Miberia is starving. There isn’t anything I can do about that, of course, plus I’m hungry.

The two Asian businessmen who I saw at lunch come in through the gate. They’re tall, with unremarkable haircuts, intelligent eyes, and pot bellies. I wonder what category of war profiteer they fall under. Are they weapons salesmen, diplomats, military advisors, diamond miners? They both nod at me, although they don’t smile. I spent some time in the Ukraine during the Russian invasion and I noticed that men who mean business don’t smile a lot.

I’m actually a quarter black, although I pass as white. Most people think I’m Greek or Italian on account of my black hair and slight natural tan. The truth is, though, that my granddad on my mom’s side was Miberian. That’s one of the reasons why I took this assignment. I wanted to get to know the country that my ancestors are from. I even know the name of my tribe, the Mzuru, who live in the northern jungles of Miberia. I don’t know a lot about them, except that they worship crocodiles and have six fingers on their left hands. So do I.

The medical term for this condition is “polydactyly”, which means “many fingers” in Greek. Most people who have this condition can’t use the extra finger because it doesn’t have bones in it, but mine is fully functional. It’s located on the little finger side of the hand and it even helps me complete some tasks better than normal people can. For example, I can switch the settings on my camera faster than other photographers are able to.

I won’t be able to visit the tribe, of course, because of the war. I would love to hug a long-lost relative right now. When I said earlier that I can’t get a boner, I didn’t mean that I’m completely adverse to affection. I do sometimes wish for physical contact, actually I don’t think any human being can exist without it. They did a study with orphans in Romania who were starved of hugs, cuddles, kisses, etc. Those children became sick and died. So yeah, I too feel like getting a backrub or a peck on the forehead from time to time. Today is one of those days where I wouldn’t mind some affection. Paying a prostitute isn’t my style, and the Asian businessmen at the bar are probably too homophobic to cuddle with me.

Actually, homosexuality is illegal in the government-run parts of Miberia, so I’ve got to be a little careful. If I do meet someone to share warmth with, it has got to be a woman. You can literally go to jail here if you are found to be gay. Horrible? Certainly, and it gets worse… you see, in Miberia, you can go to jail if you support gay rights, even if you are straight. That means that there is practically no way for things to get better, because even allies are too afraid to say anything. Whatever, maybe once the war is over, things will change.

The high-class prostitute by the pool is the only female at the hotel, and I’m not going to pay someone for love. I guess I’ll have to toughen up and be alone tonight. As I’m thinking this I hear a burst of machine gun fire out in the city. Did someone just die for no reason? Was I supposed to be there to photograph what happened? Should I have been there to give meaning to the loss of life? Or did the bullets miss their mark because I wasn’t there? Did I save a life by refusing to engage with the bloodshed?

Author Bio

Andy Siege born as Andreas Madjid Siege in Kenya in 1985 is an award winning film director and author. He is a POC, neurologically diverse, and queer. He has published 11 novels/novellas, and his debut feature film “Beti and Amare” which he wrote and directed was nominated for multiple high profile international film awards. He has a BA in Creative Writing and an MA in Political Science.

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/andreas.siege

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/andysiege/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/25963464.Andy_Siege

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B08P1XL2DV

Check out this new release “Iguana“ by Vincent Traughber Meis (Other Worlds Ink Tour and excerpt )

Vincent Traughber Meis has a new MM romance out: Iguana. And there’s a giveaway!

Dawson Wozniak moved to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico looking for a change after ending a long-term relationship. Returning to the site where his parents honeymooned, immersing himself in the local culture, and meeting new friends was sure to bring adventure and, hopefully, clarity about both his past and his future. His apartment building’s manager, Ivan, throws a wrench in the plan with his handsome looks, occasional flirting, and forced distance. Just as they are about to test their undeniable curiosity and attraction for each other, a tragedy strikes the building, forcing Dawson and Ivan apart.

When it seems there are too many obstacles, Ivan insists they can’t explore their chemistry. Still, he keeps coming back and pulling Dawson in, teasing him with possibility but filling him with doubt. Soon Dawson is consumed with thoughts of Ivan and his mercurial attention, and he can’t help but compare himself to the tragic gay characters in the books he edits. One minute Ivan is playful and laughing, and the next he’s cold and aloof, battling with cultural expectations and familial responsibilities.

Dawson gives into the push and pull of this confusing but exhilarating relationship, trying to convince himself he can handle a no-strings-attached situation with a man who is still coming to terms with his sexuality…even if he knows that he would love nothing more than to have Ivan fully, openly, and all to himself. While this confusing relationship may not be the adventure he was expecting, it may just be the adventure that allows Dawson to decide exactly who and where he wants to be.

Warnings: COVID, death, drug/alcohol use, possible suicide, mention of rape

Universal Buy Link

Giveaway

Vincent is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47326/

Excerpt

A rustling in the dry undergrowth and the crackling of twigs indicated a large-ish animal. It spotted me before I spotted it, but even with its camouflage, it couldn’t hide in the sparse surroundings. The iguana slithered up the embankment to higher ground with its long black and tan striped tail fanning back and forth to aid its escape. It climbed a tree and moved out on a branch that hung over the sidewalk in front of me.

I stopped. It stopped. I took a step forward. It crawled out a little further on the branch as if it was a gatekeeper. I had never been that close to an iguana, just ten feet above me, looking fierce with a torso about three feet long and a dewlap of variegated skin fluttering under its throat. A row of spikes ran down the spine, getting shorter as they reached the long tail. I’d been told they were harmless as long as they weren’t threatened. Some people even took them on as unlikely pets, putting them on leashes and charging tourists to take a picture with them.

But there was something about the way it stared at me that kept me frozen there on the pavement, wondering if it was safe to walk under its perch on the branch. I stared back. For what seemed a long time, we stared at each other. And then, its scaly eyebrow closed over the black marble pupil in a bed of yellow iris. If we had been playing a game of who blinks first, I had won. I didn’t feel like a winner, though, and the iguana didn’t seem to care as it continued to observe me, blinking as if bored with the relative newcomer on the planet. I nodded, acknowledging I was an invader in its land. Not just as a foreigner but as a human carving into the jungle habitat of the animal.

I was in Mexico for a new beginning, walking down the hill to do my shopping, if this beast would let me. Sweat began pooling in the middle of my chest, and I needed to move on. As I passed under the branch, I swear the iguana shrugged and looked away as if it was done with me. I felt dismissed. And then I began to laugh, a laughter of relief and surprise, thrilled with this new experience, one more in a long list that seemed a daily occurrence since I had moved here.

The day had begun with clear skies broadcasting hope, the balcony slightly cooler than inside the house as I lingered over my breakfast, feeling the view of the Bay of Banderas from Punta de Mita to Los Arcos like a physical thing that coddled me. We were in the dog days of summer, with the dog-star, Sirius, rising and setting about the same time as the sun. It was the hottest time of the year, and relief only came, I was told by my neighbors, when afternoon showers again pelted the corrugated roofs of the neighborhood down below. Everyone talked of the rains coming late this year.

Before the heat and humidity became too oppressive, I planned to walk down the hill to the market and buy food for the next few days when the forecasters insisted the heavy rains would come, ushered in by thunder and lightning. I would get back up the hill before the church bells struck ten in the plaza below.

I stepped out of the apartment into the stuffy hall, which smelled of fried onions and spices I couldn’t identify from the apartment across the hall. I summoned the elevator and watched the short countdown from the rooftop to my floor. When the doors opened, Ivan in his company logo polo shirt and jeans stood chewing on one of his fingernails. He dropped his hands and folded them in front of his crotch as he stepped aside and made room. “Buenos días, señor Dawson.”

“Hola, Ivan.” I leaned against the back wall and watched his blurry reflection in the shiny metal of the doors.

On the next floor, he got off, and as the doors closed, I let out the breath I didn’t know I had been holding. The tension I felt when near him made no sense. Ivan had been hired a few months before as the day manager who oversaw daily operations in the twelve-unit building curiously named Paradiso, which sounded both presumptuous and unsettling. He handled everything from delivering packages to residents’ doors to coordinating cleanups to keeping the place secure. Everyone found him friendly and efficient. Everyone loved him. Why did I often see him joking and bantering in English and Spanish with other residents when he was all business and cold with me? Why did my packages sometimes go undelivered when everyone else got theirs the same day?

Author Bio

Vincent Traughber Meis grew up in Decatur, Illinois and graduated from Tulane University in New Orleans. He has also traveled extensively, and as result of his travels and time abroad he published a number of pieces, mostly travel articles, but also a few poems and book reviews, in publications such as, The Advocate, LA Weekly, In Style, and Our World in the 1980s and 90s. He has published five novels with Fallen Bros Press: Eddie’s Desert Rose (2011), Tio Jorge (2012), and Down in Cuba (2013), Deluge (2016) and Four Calling Burds (2019).

Tio Jorge received a Rainbow Award in the category of Bisexual Fiction in 2012.Down in Cuba received two Rainbow Awards in 2013. Deluge won a Rainbow Award in 2016. His sixth novel The Mayor of Oak Street was released in 2021 with NineStar Press and a book of his short stories in 2021. Three more novels have been published with Spectrum Books, First Born Sons (2023), Colton’s Terrible Wonderful year (2023) and The Long Journey to You (2024). His stories have been published in several collections, including WITH: New Gay Fiction, and other collections. He lives in San Leandro, California and Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.

Author Website: https://www.vincentmeis.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/vincentmeis

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/vincenttraughbermeis

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/vincentmeisauthor

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5755735.Vincent_Meis

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/~/e/B00J7YZQU4

Check out the new tour for “Lady Grace and Her Knights“ by M.D. Grimm (Other Worlds Ink tour and excerpt)

M.D. Grimm has a new MMF fantasy romance out: Lady Grace and Her Knights. And there’s a giveaway.

Two knights are better than one…

Lady Grace never expected to be kidnapped. Why would she? She’s a duke’s daughter and about to marry her beloved white knight, Prince Isaac. Although Grace manages to escape the bandits… she doesn’t do it alone. A masked man sweeps her off her feet, and from their first encounter, she knows he’s something special. Thankfully, her betrothed is of a similar mind to her own.

Prince Isaac is equal parts delighted to be reunited with his bride and intrigued by her rescuer, a courteous, quiet man named Samuel. He and Grace always wanted a special third on their wedding night—and in their marriage bed—and Samuel might be the one they’ve been looking for. They simply need to seduce him into believing it as well.

Samuel can’t help but be enraptured by Grace’s beauty and spirit and Isaac’s strength and charm. Hiding behind a mask, he knows they will reject him if they see his devastating scars, but their playful coaxing and suggestive smiles force him to wonder if they are as sincere as they seem.

Convincing Samuel to join them might prove to be their greatest challenge yet. Good thing Grace is a woman who gets what she wants, and Isaac has a royal’s stubbornness.

Samuel doesn’t stand a chance.

Universal Buy Link

Liminal Fiction: https://www.limfic.com/book/lady-grace-and-her-knights/

QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/book/lady-grace-and-her-knights/

Giveaway

M.D. is giving away a $10 Amazon gift card with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47312/

Excerpt

She ran.

Her torn skirt allowed her legs full movement, and she ran despite the lack of light and her questionable balance. She dodged around trees and leapt over roots, praying she wouldn’t trip again. But she didn’t get far before she heard the thunder of hooves behind her, and her balance failed her completely. She collapsed onto the moss and gasped for air, shivering and sick.

Palm sweaty, she gripped the dagger tighter and rolled over, scooting backward to press against a tree. She held the blade in a trembling hand and faced her pursuer. She could handle one easier than a dozen.

A gorgeous black stallion stood a few feet from her. He stamped his hoof and tossed his head, gnawing at the bit. His rider was like a shadow in the dark. Dressed all in black, the hooded, lean figure dismounted, revealing his height and rangy limbs.

He wore a mask. It was also black and though tailored to the shape of his face, it didn’t have features, giving him an eerie, otherworldly visage. It was more like a solid shield of onyx. Dark eyes with an inner brightness stared at her, and as he came closer, she realized the mask also had a cutout for his mouth.

She gritted her teeth and raised her dagger. “One step closer, and I will cut you from navel to nose. I swear to The Three.”

He froze.

As her vision adjusted to the dimness, she peered at his eyes. Though she searched for the same cruelty as was in the bandit’s leader’s gaze, she didn’t find it.

He slowly raised his hands palm out before dropping to one knee in front of her. He bowed his head after pushing back his hood, revealing straight black hair that brushed his shoulders.

She blinked. She’d grown up around knights and realized he moved as one. Who was he?

“I am at your service, my lady,” he said, his deep voice low and calm. “I swear to The Three, I mean you no harm. One of my friends spotted you with the bandits, and I knew we needed to rescue you. We have been after the bandits since they started terrorizing this forest months ago. We cannot stay here long. I need to get back to my friends, and we need to retreat. Unfortunately, we don’t have the means to take them on and win.”

Grace swallowed, wanting to believe him with everything inside her. But her life depended on trusting the right person.

“Take off your mask and let me see your face.”

He flinched.

She frowned.

“Forgive me, my lady. I… cannot. My face is damaged you see, and it wouldn’t be proper for a lady of your standing to see it.”

His words thickened as if emotion was clogging his throat. Sir Alexander—may he rest safely in the bosoms of The Three—had sounded like that when he’d spoken about his two sons. Barely more than lads, they’d died in a war years ago. He’d also take on a solemn, choking tone when he’d mention his own time fighting enemies as a younger man.

Grief and bad memories. His sorrow touched her, and she let her hand drop.

Movement and hurried footsteps had her squinting over his shoulder. She gasped when three bandits rushed them, startling the stallion into a whinny.

“Watch—”

The man in black rose to his feet, and in one fluid motion, spun and unsheathed his sword. Without hesitation, he engaged the bandits, acting as a shield. Her shield. His skill with a sword was enviable, as was his fearlessness as axes sliced down at him. He was quick on his feet and bold in his moves. Entranced by his prowess, Grace momentarily forgot her predicament and remembered the times she’d watched Isaac on the training fields with his knights.

“You bloody devil!” One bandit yelled before taking a slice to the chest.

“Masked coward!”

The masked man said nothing as he fought with the fury of ten men.

As one bandit went down with a grunt, bleeding out, another slipped past Samuel and leapt toward her. “Noble bitch. Better you die now. You’re not worth the trouble.”

He raised his axe.

She screamed and raised her knife.

Gleaming steel erupted from the bandit’s chest, blood spraying, a few drops landing on her face. Then the masked man yanked out his sword and tossed the bandit away like refuse.

Shocked, Grace stared past him and noticed the third bandit was already twitching on the ground, groaning as he died. The skirmish hadn’t lasted very long, the brutes not standing a chance against someone with training.

Panting, the masked man wiped his sword on his cloak before sheathing it. He glanced at their surroundings before kneeling once more at her feet. She dropped her hand again and swallowed hard, shaken by what she’d witnessed. The man’s eyes had changed during the battle, a raw battle fury she’d seen in many a knight. But now they returned to their compassionate, concerned gleam.

She cleared her throat. “What is your name?”

“Samuel,” he said, still panting.

Author Bio

M.D. Grimm has wanted to write stories since second grade (kind of young to make life decisions, but whatever) and nothing has changed since then (well, plenty of things actually, but not that!). Thankfully, she has indulgent parents who let her dream, but also made sure she understood she’d need a steady job to pay the bills (they never let her forget it!).

After graduating from the University of Oregon and majoring in English, (let’s be honest: useless degree, what else was she going to do with it?) she started on her writing career and couldn’t be happier. Working by day and writing by night (or any spare time she can carve out), she enjoys embarking on romantic quests and daring adventures (living vicariously, you could say) and creating characters that always triumph against the villain, (or else what’s the point?) finding their soul mate in the process.

Author Website: https://mdgrimmwrites.com/

Author Facebook (Personal): http://www.facebook.com/mdgrimmwrites

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/mdgrimmbooks

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/mdgrimmwrites

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/mdgrimm

Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/m-d-grimm/

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/m-d-grimm/

Check out the new release “The Great Forest and Other Love Stories“ by Warren Rochelle (tour and excerpt)

Warren Rochelle has a new FF/MM romance fantasy/sci-fi short story collection out: The Great Forest and Other Love Stories. And there’s a giveaway!

“The course of true love never did run smooth” might be a cliché, but for the lovers in these stories, it’s an understatement. Consider: having to rescue your beloved from seven years of service to sentient trees, or your lover wants you to curse an entire town, or your husband is sure aliens are calling to him from a comet. Find out what happens in these and other stories in The Great Forest and Other Love Stories.

Warnings: neglectful parents, end of the world

Universal Buy Link

Giveaway

Warren is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js

Direct link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47324/

Excerpt

Chesapeake Air and Spaceport, North Terminal, Interplanetary Concourse A

The sun shimmered on the water, as the train pulled into the Chesapeake Air and Spaceport RR station. He gathered his things and walked out onto a winding path, into a garden of dwarf sugar maples and ash trees. The path led him over a little bridge and a stream, and lavender star-shaped flowers. He stopped there to collect himself, to remember what his therapists had taught him, Alana on Avalon, and Gavin and Julia, at Blue Ridge. Deep breaths, center and focus on the safe, on the gurgle of the stream below his feet, the star-shaped flowers, blooming by the water. Interrupt his fear-talk looping, be present now. The main building of the spaceport was straight ahead. The building seemed almost made of sunlight and water. Sea turtles, eels, dolphins, and sea horses seemed to be swimming inside its walls.

Inside, the spaceport would be filled with people from all across Terra, from who knew how many HC planets. And aliens. Strangers, all of them. Breathe in for three, hold for four, release for five. Center. Through the sliding glassteel doors, follow the signs to the ticket kiosks. Everybody was busy, going, coming. Edvard was just one more young human.

He could do this, and he had done it. He could do it again. He could hear Luc telling him that, as he touched him, kissed him.

I’m coming.

No answer.

Scattered trees inside, fountains and pools. Whoever designed the spaceport must have wanted it to look as if it was part of the bay itself. Water currents and tree-shapes in the metal and glassteel, the beams, and the afternoon sun visible in a great skylight over the departure lobby. Were those real birds flying overhead? Edvard caught the off-world accents he knew as he walked—Avalonian, Jardinero, New Scandinavian. A trio of enhanced chimpanzees, clearly traveling on business. He tried to stare at the nest of Kalsons traveling together, with their pointed ears, white-gold hair, and skin. Like Luc and his father. There were a few Kalsons like Manon with skin a darker gold, hair, a deep brown. He stepped back, as did everyone around him, at who he saw next coming down the concourse. Even though the Second Interstellar War had ended thirty-three standard years ago, clearly not enough time had passed for any Zoki to walk through the one of the largest spaceports on the North American east coast without armed HC security. No one had forgotten how many thousands of Wertyngeris had either died or were put in hibernacula for years, or how many of the frozen had been thawed and eaten. No one had forgotten how many HC soldiers died in the war. Yes, the war had ended with a palace coup, led by the Zoki crown princess. She had immediately offered reparations for the atrocities on Wertynger, and they had been paid, and were still being paid.

Edvard watched as the reptilian Zoki, all dressed in white, with ashes on their forehead, walked silently through the spaceport, staring at the floor. According to the treaty ending the war, the Zoki had to publicly atone for eating sentient life. The crown princess, now empress, had suggested fifty Terran standard years of shame and public penance. She had acknowledged that not all Zoki had known or participated, but the government she had overthrown had known, and it had had wide popular support.

Never again.

Someone spat on the floor as the Zoki and their guards walked past. He wondered if fifty Terran standard would be enough penance.

Edvard stepped in front of a ticket kiosk beside a family which was clearly emigrating. Everybody seemed to be carrying some sort of luggage, the three kids, the two dads. He inserted his passport and Universal ID into the kiosk, and selected shuttle to the station, star service to Wertynger, Next available ship, leaving Union Station. An option for stasis for the three week trip in hyperspace? Maybe after week one. Micro-cabin, no, too claustrophobic. Single double, Family? Single. It felt like forever for funds verification. Ding! Transaction complete. Please proceed to Concourse B, Gate 29, shuttle already boarding. Proceed to gate, please have ID and passport ready.

He had done it.

Author Bio

Warren Rochelle lives in Crozet, Virginia, with his husband, and their little dog, Gypsy. He retired from teaching English and Creative Writing at the University of Mary Washington in 2020. His short fiction and poetry have been published in such journals and anthologies as Icarus, North Carolina Literary Review, Forbidden Lines, Aboriginal Science Fiction, Collective Fallout, Queer Fish 2, Empty Oaks, Quantum Fairy Tales, Migration, Clarity, Innovation, The Silver Gryphon, Jaelle Her Book, Colonnades, and Graffiti, as well as the Asheville Poetry Review, GW Magazine, Crucible, The Charlotte Poetry Review, and Romance and Beyond. His short story, “The Golden Boy,” was a finalist for the 2004 Spectrum Award for Short Fiction.

Rochelle is the author of five novels, including The Wild Boy (2001), Harvest of Changelings (2007), and The Called (2010), all published by Golden Gryphon Press. The Werewolf and His Boy, originally published by Samhain Publishing in September 2016, was re-released from JMS Books in August 2020. In Light’s Shadow: A Fairy Tale was published by JMS Books in 2022.

Author Website: https://kingdomofjoria.com/

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/warren.rochelle

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/warrenwriter/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/38355.Warren_Rochelle

Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/warren-rochelle/

Check out the latest release , for “Chaos Kin“ by Sheryl R. Hayes (Other Worlds Ink Tour and excerpt)

Sheryl R. Hayes has a new MMF paranormal book out (bi, poly), Jordan Abbey book 3: Chaos Kin.

In the town of Rancho Robles, can one werewolf protect the Children of the Wolf and the Bat? Chaos Wolf Jordan Abbey has made friends among the Black Oak Pack even though she refuses to join it. The same can’t be said of the vampires, but her life has taken a turn for the better.

That is until Enya Blevins, sister to the werewolf who turned Jordan, arrives in Rancho Robles. She wants to know who killed her baby brother and is less than impressed by the Chaos Wolf. Enya wants revenge, starting with Jordan and ending with the vampires infesting the area.

Jordan is prepared to flee, but a technicality makes her an Alpha Werewolf. Now she must stand her ground to protect her nascent Pack and those she loves.

The past has come back to bite her. Does she have the fangs to bite back?

About the Series:

In the Northern California town of Rancho Robles where the Children of the Wolf and the Bat share an uneasy coexistence. One werewolf woman threatens to upset that balance.

Universal Buy Link | Liminal Fiction | Goodreads

Giveaway:

Sheryl is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47323/

Excerpt:

“You ready for this?”

Jordan nodded. She and Montgomery had pulled over three blocks from the entrance to the Black Oak Pack’s compound for one last quick discussion. “Got the Uber request programmed in to meet me here. If things go wrong, we run.”

Montgomery shook his head, hand tightening on the steering wheel. “No, you run.”

Jordan’s expression tightened. “I’m not leaving you.”

“Jordan, you have to run without me.” Montgomery stared at her until she looked away. “I know you’re afraid of what will happen to me. But they won’t harm me. To do so is to risk open conflict with Elder Marcus.”

Jordan bit back her response. Alpha Shane may have a vested interest in living in peace with the Elder of the Conclave of Rancho Robles. That didn’t mean that these strangers who came from far away would have the same desires. Add to the fact things were personal between Montgomery and Enya, and the odds were that they wouldn’t be thinking about insulting the vampires in the area.

She sighed and recited the plans they had come up with the night before. “If things go south, I run back to the Cataluña and wait for you or Thorn. If after twenty-four hours, neither of you show up, I ask Elder Marcus for help getting someplace safe. You and Thorn will join me once you’re able to.”

Montgomery smiled and nodded. She noticed a tear in the corner of his eye. “Hopefully, it won’t come to that.”

She didn’t bother to say that he didn’t sound like he believed it any more than she did.

Jordan closed her eyes but lifted her head as she and Montgomery drove up to the gate of the Black Oak Pack’s home territory. As if by mutual consent, neither of them spoke as Sentry Rodriguez waved them through. There was no point hashing out their plans further. In the next ten minutes, they would know if she would have to run and hide with her tail between her legs.

The silence continued as they walked to the front door. Angela opened the door before she had a chance to knock on it, focusing on Jordan instead of Montgomery. The blonde blond werewolf arched her eyebrows in a question.

Jordan shook her head ever so slightly.

Angela’s lips pressed together as she narrowed her eyes. Jordan could hear her thoughts. Why am I not surprised? Instead, she gestured them inside. “This way please.”

The entire pack was gathered, clumping together in little knots around the room. Pamela met her eyes and then turned her attention back to her conversation with Tran. Alpha Shane, Envoy Blevins, and Talespeakers stood by the cold, dark fireplace. Angela took her place with the rest of the younger people in the room. The tension in the room ramped up as the four highest-ranking werewolves focused on her and Montgomery. Alpha Shane dipped his head in greeting. “Chaos Wolf Abbey, Mr. Cooper.”

Enya was far less formal, not giving Montgomery and Jordan a chance to greet them. She assessed Jordan, head lifted so she stared down her nose. “Were you able to retrieve the fangs?”

Jordan drew herself up to stand straight and as tall as she could. “No.”

Everyone around her tensed, which she expected.

“This isn’t her fault,” Montgomery said. “She didn’t know—”

“Silence, vampire!” Enya snapped. Her focus was on Jordan as she paced forward. “It’s not completely your fault. I blame you as much as I blame him.” She nodded towards Alpha Shane. “And him.” Her gaze turned towards Montgomery.

Alpha Shane’s shoulders hunched. He shifted his weight but said nothing.

She felt her ears flatten, an impressive trick as she was in her human form. Jordan opened her mouth, trying to force her words through her snarl. To her surprise, Billy, Juan, Tran, and Maria surrounded her and Montgomery with Angela taking the point in front of Jordan. Jordan couldn’t see her expression, but the young woman stood stiffly, legs apart, and fists braced on her waist.

Confused, Jordan looked at Billy on her right, eyes wide. “What’s going on?” she whispered as Montgomery put a hand on her shoulder.

“We’re saving your skin,” he said. “Now, shush.”

Angela looked at Enya. “Jordan shouldn’t be treated as a chaos wolf. She is—”

“Angela!” Alpha Shane barked, glaring at her.

His daughter didn’t stop speaking. “—An alpha wolf in her own right.”

Author Bio

Sheryl R. Hayes can be found untangling plot threads or the yarn her three cats have been playing with. She is equally likely to be shooing one of them off the keyboard as she is working on her novels and short stories. In addition to writing, she is a cosplayer focusing on knit and crochet costumes.

Author Website: https://www.sherylrhayes.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/sherylreneehayes

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/sherylrhayes

Author Mastodon: https://mastodon.online/@sherylrhayes

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sherylrhayes/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16468770.Sheryl_R_Hayes

Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/sheryl-r-hayes/

Author Amazon: http://amazon.com/author/sherylrhayes

Check out the new release “Resurrecting My Magic“ by Timoteo Tong (tour and excerpt from Other Worlds Ink Tours)

Timoteo Tong has a new MM paranormal fantasy romance out, Magicals Alliance book two: Resurrecting My Magic.

Book one, “Magic, Monsters and Me” is available for just 99¢ January 6th-12th!

In the thrilling sequel to “Magic, Monsters and Me,” Elijah Delomary forges new abilities with new mentors, seeks to reunify with Austin, and faces the terrible truth behind losing his powers. As war rages between Devlina and Zid’dra, Elijah and his family are drawn into the conflict.

Zid’dra grows stronger and brings Elijah to the precipice of destruction. Faced with a terrifying revelation, Elijah is pushed to protect his family, Austin, and the very fabric of existence. The weight of these challenges tests Elijah’s strength, forcing him to confront the darkest forces while proving the unwavering strength of his love to Austin.

As the evil plan comes to light, Elijah forges new abilities with new mentors, seeks to reunify with Austin, and faces the terrible truth behind losing his powers. As war rages between Devlina and Zid’dra, Elijah and his family are drawn into the conflict. Zid’dra grows stronger and brings Elijah to the precipice of destruction. Will he survive? Can he trust himself to do the right thing? Will he believe that love can conquer darkness and save the world?

Warnings: homophobia, racism, bullying, fat phobia, LGBT slurs, fade to black sex

About the Series:

The Magicals’ Alliance series revolves around the influential Delomary family, known for their massive corporation, philanthropy, and charity work. But unbeknownst to the public, they’re also the secret defenders against dark forces, facing off against monsters like Vampires and Werewolves in an age-old battle between good and evil. “Magic, Monsters and Me” is the thrilling first installment in this epic saga. Join them in their mission to protect humanity from perilous extinction.

Universal Buy Link

Get Book One Now For Just 99¢

Giveaway

Timoteo is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47322/

Excerpt

“One night, I sat in the window seat in my room, watching the rain falling outside my window, when I heard a cry for help.

“Someone help me!”

I glanced at the clock: 3:00 AM. I padded to the door, peering outside to the long hallway stretching from Aunt Christine’s suite on one end to Mom’s on the other. The darkness was punctuated every few feet from the dim chandeliers overhead. Silence. The house and everyone in it were asleep except me. I returned to the window.

“Help!” a voice shouted, weaker this time.

“Shit,” I complained. I returned to my room, walked over to the closet, then jammed my feet in my running shoes and headed downstairs. I grabbed my raincoat from the front hall closet and stepped outside.

Where was security? They usually patrolled the grounds at night. Maybe there was a shift change. Rain thundered down on the roof of the veranda and on the brick walkway winding down the front lawn to the main gates. I stepped onto the stairs and into the rain. I hurried to the wrought iron fence separating our property from the street. I paused, noticing a strange pink light illuminating the jacaranda trees lining the street. I turned to see where it was coming from. I gasped. The house glowed with a fluorescent pink light from the runes Mom had recently cast over the house in the Jotomoarlo Sangrancto. The ancient characters appeared as if projected on the house moving up along the façade and disappearing on the mansard roof.

“Please, help little old me!” a voice called. I looked back at the house. The house was actively fighting some evil force itself. I turned and made my way to the empty street. A half block away, I spotted a figure, shrouded in shadows between the streetlights, waving to me.

“Help! Monsters!”

“I can help you!” I called, patting my pajama pockets for my PlasmX. Puxhàredo! I left it on the dresser in my closet. I stretched out my arm and raised my hand on the off chance my PlasmX would levitate out of my room and into my hands. Nothing happened. Crap. Máurso had drilled it in my head to never be without my PlasmX. And I had forgotten that rule already. I grumbled. Okay, I would just use my fists and body to battle any monster. My Xem Sen Ou improved every week. I was a walking weapon, I told myself.

I closed in on the figure.

“Come and help me.”

The stench of ashes and sulfur wafted into my nose. I gagged. Okay, a chain smoker needed my help. Mom had drilled it into my head to never smoke.

“You want yellow teeth? Wrinkles when you’re eighteen? Smell like cigarettes?”

“No?”

“Good, don’t smoke, ever!”

I could do this. I paused in front of a shadowy figure.

“Elijah Delomary, Bane of the Gloom, here to help..uh..ma’am, sir, they?”

The figure reached up to their hood with their hands, only the skin was blistered and black and oozing. My eyes widened, seeing rotting flesh on their arms. I stopped in my tracks. I began to back away.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you remember me?” A raspy voice called as the hood fell off the head of the figure. The face of an old woman with wrinkled skin and washed-out blue eyes peered at me. Fungus crusted half the woman’s face.

“Come here, honey. It’s me, your great-great aunt Mady!”

I turned and began to run. That couldn’t be Aunt Mady. She had died when I was eight years old at the ripe old age of 102. My foot hit a rut in the sidewalk, sending me tumbling forward. I crashed onto the lawn of my friend Letitia’s house. I sprawled on my back, rain beating down on my face. My heart lodged in my throat. I wanted to cry out for help. I wanted to run, but for some reason, every muscle in my body was paralyzed. I heard the sound of Aunt Mady’s walker clacking on the sidewalk.

“Come and give me a hug, honey!”

I closed my eyes. I should have woken Barn, called Sunny. Security. No, I— Stop, Elijah. You didn’t know any better. You meant well. The path to hell is lined with good intentions. No, stop. Stop. Stop beating yourself up.

The clacking stopped. Aunt Mady, or whoever she was, stood over me. I was helpless. Thunder rumbled. Our twelfth atmospheric river of the rainy season. The vernal equinox passed weeks ago. Springtime. It never rained this much in Southern California. Something was wrong, someone was trying to drown the land of milk and honey. Drown La La Land and wash California into the sea.

Wheezing filled the air. I pressed my eyes closed as a hand reached for me. A vision bloomed in my head. Two pinpoints of red light that grew and grew and grew filled my mind.

“You proved yourself quite capable,” the voice said. “I was hoping you’d run yourself ragged, trying to prove to yourself you’re not some piece of crap like your father. I hoped to watch you collapse and die. You didn’t. Then I was sure you would give up. You surprised me. So now I am here to destroy you, so Devlina is weakened, and I can grow stronger!”

Author Bio

Timoteo Tong’s imagination has always run wild, growing up in Burbank, CA, dreaming of battling vampires, werewolves, and witches in a Victorian mansion. Inspired by literary giants like L. Frank Baum, CS Lewis, and JRR Tolkien, he wrote his first book at eight, featuring his stuffed cocker spaniel marrying a playful duck. Now living in San Francisco with his husband, Timoteo surrounds himself with plants and books, enjoying cheese pizza, donuts, and long naps. He balances his creative pursuits with a healthy lifestyle, working out regularly. Timoteo dreams of flying one day and aims to enchant readers with his storytelling, just as his favorite authors did for him.

Author Website: https://www.magicalsalliance.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/timoteo.tong

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/timoteoktong/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/34837913.Timoteo_Tong

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Timoteo-Tong/author/B0C7JVD1H7

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words Most Memorable Series and Books of 2024

Making Best of Lists has always been problematic for me, especially when it comes to books and series. That’s such a broad range of categories, tropes, themes, and spectrums of characters to whittle it down to a favorable few for such a long time period.

There’s so much I love about many genres and read so different tropes and authors, so many characters and stories that to reflect and refine them down to those that I have taken to heart during this year is close to impossible.

I always forget about the ones early on in the year or even smaller series that had a couple of books to them instead of an ongoing collection. And this year I’m adding some books I have found so beautiful and memorable but not necessarily that fall under the LGBT umbrella. I’m including them in my year in lists here because they are now forever comfort reads or books that will remain near my bedside for re-reading.

Among them is the magnificently written novel, The Women by Kristin Hannah, along with a fantastic dragonrider series that has some LGBT characters but not the main characters. That’s The Empyrean series by Rebecca Yarros. And a book that I read and then immediately read again, as it resonates with me so. That’s the incredible Whiskey and Warfare: The Team Huntress Flights by E. M. Hamill.

Then there are series that had finale stories and series that have just begun. With the exception of the multiple authors series, all series listed here are ones whose books should be read in the order they were written. No matter was some descriptions said. Just no.

These aren’t in any kind of order btw when listed under certain categories. Chaos is my name here. Enjoy and let me know what books and series you recommend.

My Must Read/Bedside Books Found In 2024

🔷The Women by Kristin Hannah Amazon.comhttps://www.amazon.com › Wome…The Women: A Novel – Hannah, Kristin: Books

🔷Whiskey and Warfare: The Team Huntress Flights by E. M. Hamill

Book 1 of 1: The Team Huntress Flights

🔷The Pairing by Casey McQuiston

Amazon.comhttps://www.amazon.com › Pairing…The Pairing: Special 1st Edition: McQuiston, Casey: 9781250862747

I own these books in several formats, including hardback. That’s the impression they have made on me. I wanted them permanently in my library. And now I do.

Fantastic 5 Star Series /Stories

Paranormal , some dark fantasy with horror elements, some humor:

🔷Beyond the Veil by K. M. Avery

(In particular for this year, Turning of the Tables and Badger in his Burrow-amazing )

The Badger in His Burrow (Beyond the Veil Book 8)

🔷SOS HOTEL: series by Adam Vex (Ariana Nash)-7 books complete

Adam Vex

and 1 more

🔷Goliaths of Wrestling series by Lily Mayne

Impromptu Match (Goliaths of Wrestling Book 1)

🔷The Unwilling Adventures of Harlow & Foxx series by Shelby Rhodes

Book 4 of 5: The Unwilling Adventures of Harlow & Foxx

Fantasy

🔷Mammoths At The Gates (The Singing Hills Cycle Book 4) by Nghi Vo- all the novels

Book 4 of 5: The Singing Hills Cycle

🔷Fourth Wing (The Empyrean Book 1) by Rebecca Yarros (not LGBT specifically)

Fourth Wing (The Empyrean Book 1)

🔷Kings of Chaos by Jocelynn Drake

Two Thousand Promises (Kings of Chaos Book 5)

🔷Gary of a Hundred Days: MM Fantasy Romance (The Unwanted King Book 1 and 2) by Isabel Murray

Book 1 of 2: The Unwanted King

🔷On the Wind series by Sam Burns and W.M. Fawkes 3 books

Book 3 of 3: On the Wind

🔷The Summertide Chronicles by Sam Burns

Book 2 of 4: The Summertide Chronicles

🔷How I Stole the Princess’s White Knight and Turned him to Villainy Book 12) by A. J. Sherwood – 13 books?

Book 12 of 13: How I Stole the Princess’s White Knight and Turned Him to Villainy

🔷Deadly Lineage: Necromancer Tales Book I by MJ May (sequel to the Pixie series)

Deadly Lineage: Necromancer Tales Book I

🔷Smoke and Mirrors (Fortune Favors the Fae novel) by Kai Butler

See series below

🔷Silver & Gold : Seth and Raider Book 2 by Katherine Diane (the entire duology in fact)

Book 2 of 2: Seth & Raider

🔷Tournament Mage (Fledgling God Book 5) by Michael Taggert

Misfit Mage: Fledgling God: book 1

🔷Enchanting Exposition (Demon Magic Book 4) by Alice Winters- finale

Book 4 of 4: Demon Magic

Contemporary Romance – Novels and Series

Many of the ones I read and loved fell under holiday collections, including the great Christmas Falls, season 2.

🔷Winnie Takes Paris (Love and Travels #2) by Lane Hayes

🔷The Christmas Keeper (Laurel Holidays Book 6) by V.L. Locey

🔹Once Upon A Goth Dog Solstice (Once Upon a Holiday story) by R L Merrill

🔹Second Song: Second Chance School by Con Riley

🔷The Nannies of Manhattan by K Sterling -7 books so far

🔹The Play (Charleston Condors Book 4) by Beth Bolden – finale

Fiction

The Last List of Mabel Beaumont by Laura Pearson- LGBT book list of the year/ Quietly stunning

Historical

🔹Death In The Spires by K. J. Charles

🔹A Lady for a Duke by Alexis Hall

http://www.anrdoezrs.net/links/8040641/type/dlg/http://www.booksamillion.com/p/9781538753767

Science Fiction

🔹Chaos Station series by Jenn Burke and Kelly Jensen

Chaos Station

🔹Cosmic Soul: A MM Sci-fi Romance (Cosmic Romance 2) by Mars Quinn

Book 2 of 3: Cosmic Romance

🔹Why Did The Alien Cross The Galaxy? To Find a Fake Boyfriend and Befriend a Vacuum Cleaner by A. M. Rose (yes, 2023 but I found it this year and wheezed laughed the entire book)

Terrific Multi-Author Collections ( I’m still working on the larger collections)

🔹Tales from the Tarot – 22 books

Part of: Tales from the Tarot (22 books)

🔹Christmas Falls, season 2- 10 books

Part of: Christmas Falls: Season 2 (10 books)

🔹Once Upon a Holiday Story –

Part of: Once Upon a Holiday Story (8 books)

🔹Fortune Favors the Fae series – 15 books

Part of: Fortune Favors the Fae (15 books)

🔷Subpar Heroes- 15 books

Part of: Subparheroes (14 books)

There were several books I wanted to include here from the beginning of the year but when I went to check out the links I found that they weren’t available, anywhere. Even the small press that had published them was no longer in business. And these were remarkable first books for the authors. I’d lost track because I read so many.

It’s a hard reminder of how hard it is for these incredible authors to keep writing and keep publishing stories that we love to read and hold dear. And every book and author’s voice lost is a lessening of the rich narrative fabric that they bring to us daily. One that lets us escape or become more thoughtful and aware or just more.

I’m so thankful for the authors and books I’ve read this year. Those listed and those who are not but still held dear. You have made and continue to make a difference in my life. You are treasured.

🫶

Happy New Year and Happy Reading from Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words

Check out this new release “Once Upon A Goth Dog Solstice“ by R.L. Merrill (tour and excerpt)

R.L. Merrill has a new MM romance out (gay, bisexual/genderqueer), part of the multi-author Once Upon A Holiday series: Once Upon A Goth Dog Solstice. And there’s a giveaway!

From the author of the award-winning novel You Can Do Magic: Carnival of Mysteries and Publishers Weekly’s BookLife quarterfinalist Earthquake Ethan comes a heartwarming holiday tale of found family and sacrifice. Two wildly opposite veterans connect over a shared love of art, rescue dogs, and a very special foster child.

Doug Cross spent the first half of his life attempting to appease his career-military father. After a stint in the Air Force and a successful career in cybersecurity, he’s traveled the world in search of fulfillment. He believes he’s found it in the San Francisco Bay Area with a room on an urban farm, a new spot in a goth punk band, and the support of his extended family. He’s always been a helper by nature, so when he learns that his housemate’s dog rescue is in trouble, he creates goth-influenced dog accessories to sell at the Treasure Island Arts and Crafts Fair in hopes of raising much-needed funds for the pups. He also lends a helping hand to his neighbor at the fair, and the two have a potential meet-cute…that quickly fizzles, leaving Doug wondering why his charming personality failed to make a new friend.

Luther Sorenson is a disabled Marine veteran who is struggling to keep his family afloat—and himself literally on his feet. His sister convinces him to sell his wood paintings at the fair as a way to supplement his income. He’s a single foster dad to eight-year-old Mila and is desperate to give her everything she deserves. His body doesn’t always cooperate, however, and having to ask for help from the goth guy next door at the art market could have potentially been humiliating. But Doug makes it easy, and Luther can’t stop thinking about him in between markets. Doug seems like the kind of person Luther could add to his support network. Not to mention, his superb makeup skills and the way he rocks a utilikilt have Luther smitten in no time.

A brunch “business meeting” turns into adult summer camp, and Doug and Luther embark on a tentative courtship while navigating the challenges of parenthood and owning a small business. But as the seasons change, the two men find in each other what they’ve always desired: love, family, and acceptance. On the night of the winter solstice, will they choose to combine forces and step into the unknown together?

Once Upon A Goth Dog Solstice is a part of the multi-author series Once Upon a Holiday Story. Each book can be read as a standalone and in any order. What links these books together is The Hook’s Book Nook Traveling Library, a library on wheels owned by two old ladies in love.

About the Series:

Universal Buy Link

Giveaway

R.L. is giving away a $25 Amazon gift card with this tour:

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Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47321/

Excerpt

“I had a bad dream.”

Eight-year-old Mila Saavedra stood in the doorway of Luther’s room with a stuffed dinosaur hanging limply from one hand. Her other hand was pressed against her stomach.

Luther turned over and sat on his yoga mat with his arm out, gesturing for her to come closer. The brief seconds she hesitated to move toward the mat gutted him. Once she settled on a course of action, she approached him, not front on but coming around the mat to stand nearer his side.

“What happened in your dream?”

Mila sat cross-legged and folded her hands in her lap with Terry D’actyl against her body. It was still tough to get her to make eye contact, but Luther knew better than to push that issue. It hadn’t worked with him as a young man, and he was determined not to make the same mistakes as the foster parents he’d lived with.

“I went to school and no one was there to greet us. I went to my classroom and no one was there. No one came to take us to lunch. I sat at my desk all day, and no one came. And at the end of the day…” She ducked her head, and Luther heard the shaky breath she took in.

“At the end of the day, I come to get you.”

She shook her head.

Luther let out a breath. As much as he hated to revisit his past, Mila’s social worker, Miss Vanessa, told him from the start that building rapport with his foster daughter would likely require him to find ways to connect with her around their shared experiences.

The whole reason he’d become a foster parent was to help other kids avoid having those kinds of shared experiences.

“I used to have dreams like that, too.”

She lifted her head long enough to look at him from under her thick bangs, and then she looked at his feet. “What did you do?”

Luther definitely didn’t want to get into all of the negative ways he’d coped as a kid. That was in the past. But he could tell her about the ways he coped with life now.

“When I have bad dreams now, I exercise, or I go work in my studio. Those are things that make me feel better.” He let out a breath and thought how much he wished he could spend the day with Mila, but he’d signed on to work the art market on Treasure Island one weekend a month, and today was his first day. He’d gone over and parked his trailer in his spot the previous night, so he could scope the place out. He’d been a little nervous about registering to become a vendor, but once he’d stepped out of his truck and breathed in the San Francisco Bay breeze, he’d allowed himself the briefest moment of peace. The view of the San Francisco Bay at sunset was breathtaking, the weather was forecast to be mild, and he’d finally have a chance to see what—if any—kind of money he could make selling his wood paintings.

It had been his sister’s idea for him to try selling the art he usually reserved as gifts for his closest friends. Violet helped him research vendor opportunities, got him registered for this one, and helped him get everything set up to run a business. She volunteered to stay with Mila on the days he’d be at the fair. If he hadn’t already known how incredible his sister was, well…now he knew she was an absolute gift.

“I like to fix things,” Mila said quietly. She reached over and tentatively touched a tiny hole in the hem of his sweatpants. “My tummy feels better when things are all right.”

Luther’s own stomach clenched at her words. “Mine does, too. What do you think would make things all right this morning?”

She glanced at him under her bangs. “I wish I could sew,” she nearly whispered. “I could fix your pants.”

Luther wanted to reach out and take her hand, but Miss Vanessa had suggested he wait for her to engage with him when she was ready. She’d been with him for six months now, and they’d made huge progress, but he was determined to do everything right so she could have a chance to heal. He wanted to make things safe for her, give her a place to find herself.

“These old things?” He tugged at the cuff and showed her the inside. She gasped at the barely attached threads. “Don’t you worry about these. I’ve had them since before I was in the Marines.” There was a hitch in his voice as he mentioned his previous calling. He cleared his throat. “If you tried to sew these holes, the material would likely disintegrate in your fingers. Auntie Violet will be up soon. She’s an expert at sewing.”

That got him a timid smile. “Would she teach me?”

“I’m sure she will. She taught me.”

Her eyes bugged out. “You know how to sew?”

Luther let out an exaggerated sigh. “Marines know everything, remember?”

She groaned and squeezed Terry tight. Then she turned him around and pointed to a seam on the critter’s back that was barely hanging on. “Do you think I can fix this?”

Poor Terry had been through it. Luther had gently tried to replace him, but every morning he’d find Mila’s arms wrapped around the beat-up pterodactyl. He was the only toy she’d been able to bring with her when Miss Vanessa took her from her unsafe situation, and Luther knew the two of them had seen some shit together.

“I do. Now,” Luther said, looking at where she still had a hand on her stomach. “What can we do to fix your tummy?”

She tilted her head as though it was a difficult decision, but Luther knew her answer.

“Pancakes?”

“As if it would be anything else. Come on,” he said, knowing that cutting his exercise time short would bite him in the ass later, but he was determined to give the world to this little girl, no matter the price he paid.

He managed to push himself up off the floor without cursing and he took it slow as he straightened his back, stretching his arms above his head.

Author Bio

R.L. Merrill loves creating compelling stories that will stay with readers long after. Ro writes inclusive contemporary romance, paranormal, and horror-inspired music reviews. A mom, wife, daughter, former educator, and advocate for social and reproductive justice, you can currently find cruising in her Bronco with Great Dane pup Velma, being terrorized by feline twins Dracula and Frankenstein, or headbanging at a rock show near her home in the San Francisco Bay Area! Stay Tuned for more…

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