Category: Book Tours and Contests

Love Contemporary Romance? Check Out ‘Becoming Rory’ by Ashavan Doyon (excerpt/giveaway)

Title:  Becoming Rory

Author: Ashavan Doyon

Series Title and Number: College Rose Romances 4

Publisher:  Torquere Press

Cover Artist: Kris Norris

Release Date:  6/8/16

Heat Level: 3

Pairing: M/M

Length: 75K

Genre/Tags:  New Adult, Contemporary, M/M Romance

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Synopsis

Rory Graeble returns to college determined to reinvent himself. Too many years have been wasted with masks, but becoming a student leader is a step Rory isn’t sure he’s ready for. A new identity takes more than just a new nickname, and Rory knows he has to take the chances that his old self would never risk. When that chance is a party that ends with an anonymous hot skater’s tongue down his throat and a phone number in his pocket, Rory knows what he has to do.

Danny Smits never expected to see stuffy lit geek Rory Graeble trying to be out, trying to be proud, trying to be… Rory. It’s damned sexy, and too much for the entrepreneurial skater to resist. When Rory calls him back the day after the party, Danny knows Rory has changed. But will Danny’s haunted past deter Rory? Or will Rory embrace the chance to experience everything the closet had stolen away? Danny believes in keeping things real, in a brutal honesty he knows means Rory will run screaming.

But this time Rory isn’t running.

Excerpt

It was quiet. Rory knew that wasn’t normal. He gazed out the windows. The angle of the building meant that one side was faced toward the campus, a miniature city full of towering buildings scattered in clumps, the other faced the mountains and woods. Two contrary images. It appealed to his poetic soul. That was a part of Lawrence he had no intention of letting go. It spoke to his core, that love of words.

Rory opened a window against the heat. Wentworth was an older building, and Rory half expected in winter that he’d have to keep the window open just to breathe. For now though, with no air-conditioning and a fan that did nothing except when pointed at bare skin, an open window was a welcome reprieve from the late August heat. There wasn’t enough of what he wanted Rory to be, not yet, for him to be comfortable with naked skin—at least not his naked skin.

His dorm room was taking shape. The books were on the bookshelf, two deep. An index card on the end of each shelf cataloged the books on the back row. They were books he wouldn’t want often, but when he wanted them, they’d be easy enough to find. Each shelf had a theme. On each shelf his favorites were in alpha order in front, and those he’d brought only out of fear his dad wouldn’t… Rory closed his eyes and took a long breath. There were reasons for his rebirth as Rory, and not all of them were here at school.

The boxes for the books were broken down and in the back of the closet. His clothes were hung up or carefully folded and in drawers. They spoke of Lawrence, not Rory, but they were what he had. It would be easy to fall back into wearing these. He’d have to for a little while. Clothes cost money, and for the first time in his life, Rory was not confident a call home would yield any more, not even for clothes. Especially not for clothes. What’s wrong with the clothes you’ve got? It’s what his dad would say. Probably his mom too.

With three beanbag chairs, the chair for his desk and the bed, that meant seating for five, at least. Anything over ten was considered a party. Not that he had any real hope of filling even the five spaces he had. Rory chuckled at himself. He could hope, but it wouldn’t happen. Still, he might get Stacy and Barry to join him. He walked up against the window, pinned between the steady whir of the fan and the tiny breeze from the window. It was comfortable. Well, not yet. Not really. But it would get more so over the course of the semester. He had to believe that.

On the desk next to his laptop, too hard to ignore from where he stood at the window, was his student leadership packet. The college had found some money somewhere. The portfolio wasn’t the cheap paper folder he’d expected. The mock-leather portfolio marked with the school seal—embossed on the cover, not just ink—had come with a lapel pin and a school pen. Okay, so the pads of paper inside were cheap, but that the school had done that for all the student leaders who arrived early? The communications major in him couldn’t help but analyze it for the message, and it wasn’t hard for him to guess. Take this seriously; they want us to take it seriously.

Rory wondered if they knew that the fledgling leaders were coming back in an hour as the sun finished its descent with the makings of a party. He wondered if Barry knew. Bronzed. Fit. Popular. Of course Barry knew. Rory glanced at the door he’d left open. He tried to pretend it was for something as mundane as airflow, but in his heart where the dull ache of the afternoon’s discussion still sat like a leaden brick, he knew better.

“This is where you do something stupid, Lawrence,” he whispered to himself. He knew what he wanted to do. Want is a strong term. Maybe it’s just the only way you know how to deal with it. And your name is Rory, dipshit. Lawrence is dead.

He looked again at the pile of leadership materials. How had Aidan talked him into this again? Oh, right. There was no one else. Aidan and Michael, they were gone. John Simmons was gone. All they had was a scattered and broken community.

Rory looked out at the slowly illuminating lights in the buildings across campus. It wasn’t like it would be when classes started. Right now it was just dots of light here and there. Athletes. Student government. Student organization leaders. It was getting dark. The party would start soon. As a leader, he’d been invited, quietly, with everyone else. Would the athletes be there to make him feel inadequate? Rory let out a breath, slow. Lawrence would never have gone. Maybe that meant Rory needed to.

He sat down at the desk and quickly flipped through the packet. Even on a cursory glance it was clear that the real requirement was to be present for the workshops throughout the week. The administration had scrupulously left the evenings to the students. It was a kindness, he noted, they had not extended to the residence life staff. He’d seen Becky and Barry earlier, making door tags for each of the residents. It would take them hours to do, and he’d wondered at the time why they’d started so early. But if Barry knew about the party… Rory sighed. Why did it matter if Barry was there? He wasn’t interested.

He’s comfortable. I’ll know someone. It’ll be bearable.

Rory closed the portfolio and pushed it away. His thoughts turned to how he could almost see skin under that too thin shirt of Barry’s. Also pretty uncomfortable.

He stood up and walked over to his closet. They were nice clothes, but they all fit into a particular mode. He pushed the hangers aside one by one. White shirt. Blue shirt. Pastel shirt. All of them button fronts. Then cardigans. One after another. Trousers and corduroys. Tweed jackets. Two business suits his parents had bought him for interviews. At least one of them was sleeker and more modern.

“They’re all Lawrence. All of them,” he muttered. He rested his forehead in one hand, massaging his scalp with his fingers to try to stall the oncoming headache. His eyes opened wide. “Maybe…”

He went back to the desk, trying to stay calm, and pulled out his laptop. Two quick searches and he’d found it: what good-looking fashion models could do with a cardigan. It wasn’t Lawrence at all. That was good. But could Rory pull it off? He was no top model.

He looked back at his closet. “Better than locking myself into being Lawrence again all year.” He combed his fingers back through his hair and closed his eyes again. “I can do this. I can choose to be Rory.”

Purchase

Torquere Press

Becoming Rory Square

Meet the Author

Ashavan Doyon spends his days working with students as part of the student affairs staff at a liberal arts college. During lunch, evenings, and when he can escape the grasp of his husband on weekends, he writes, pounding out words day after day in hopes that his ancient typewriter-trained fingers won’t break the glass on his tablet computer. Ashavan is an avid science fiction and fantasy fan and prefers to write while listening to music that fits the mood of his current story. He has no children, having opted instead for the companionship of two beautiful and thoroughly spoiled pugs. A Texan by birth, he currently lives in New England, and frequently complains of the weather.

Ashavan went to school at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst, getting his degree in Russian and East European Studies, with a focus in language and literature. He has two incomplete manuscripts from college that he goes back compulsively to fiddle with every so often, but is still not happy with either of them. He still loves fantasy and science fiction and reads constantly in the moments between writing stories.

Ashavan loves to hear from readers and can be reached at ashavandoyon@gmail.com.

Social Media Links: Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Website

Giveaway

Rafflecopter Prize: One winner will be selected to win an eBook copy of Becoming Rory

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Get A Bundle of Love with the ‘Love Off the Radar Collection’ by A.J. Llewellyn and D.J. Manly (excerpt and giveaway)

 

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Title:  Love Off the Radar Collection

Author: A.J. Llewellyn & D.J. Manly

Publisher:  Torquere Press

Cover Artist:

Release Date:  6/8/16

Heat Level: 5

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 119K

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Synopsis

Love off the Radar features fourteen tantalizing, otherworldly tales of love, romance, passion, and mystery, by the best-selling team of A.J. Llewellyn and D.J. Manly. In Chaos, a fallen god looks for love at a truck stop. A young man hovers between love and death in Hardsex. Before Morning is an erotic, romantic, volcanic vampire tale set in Feudal Japan – with a serious twist. Mojo Rising is a scandalous tale of same-sex love set in the South Seas.

D.J. Manly addresses BDSM in Disciplining Baron, and the two authors join forces for the paranormal title story Love off the Radar. Which will kill Mo Dingley first? Love, or a curse? Speaking of curses, Have you ever read the personal journals of a werewolf, or a vampire? Now’s your chance! We’ve also got two very different love stories set in the time of Atlantis, and the sad but sweet Clean Monday, a coming-out story with a surprising hero. There are sexy, spicy tales involving zombies, where boys meet boys and almost…eat them. We have it all because love is love, and can’t always be wrapped up in a neat little bow.

Excerpt

From the title story Love off the Radar:

Mo should have suspected the universe was about to hose him when he arrived at the office and found the receptionist sniveling over her laptop. He’d assumed she was having some personal crisis. He felt a little guilty now that he’d uttered a brusque “Good morning” and had walked right by her.

When Jonathan Sampson personally buzzed Mo and invited him into the conference room for coffee, he’d assumed—again, stupidly—that he was about to be given a raise. He’d played the imaginary conversation in his mind as he quickly combed his thick, sandy-colored hair, straightened his bolo tie, and had run his fingertips over his unruly eyebrows.

He’d walked in, full of smiles, hoping to be commended for the brilliant job he’d done designing and overseeing a synagogue completely built out of recycled materials and powered by solar energy. It had appeared on the evening news, and Architectural Digest was featuring it next month.

Mo suspected that the big-bucks job hadn’t impressed Buckley and Sampson because the synagogue was a GLBT one. And gay didn’t go down too well in the company, even though their lone gay architect had, in three short months, brought them almost four million dollars in revenue.

No. What he got was a year in fingle-fangled Japan. It beat his last job where he’d spent a year in Kentucky designing the same ergonomic office spaces over and over again.

Mo stared into his still full cup of coffee, prepared for him by the sniveling receptionist. He wondered if she’d wept into his cup.

“Well?” Sampson asked.

“May I think it over tonight?”

Mr. Sampson looked disappointed. “I’ll give you twenty-four hours. You’ll need to leave by Monday.”

Mo swallowed. Hard. “What about the accounts I’m working on?”

Mr. Sampson couldn’t look at him. “We’re going to hand them over to some of our junior executives.”

“But those are my accounts. My relationships brought in those deals.” Asshole. I just figured it out. They used me to get the contracts, now their straight account executives are going to complete the projects. They’ll never do the job I could do.

He left the office for the meeting he’d scheduled with the rabbi. He adjusted his black Stetson on his head, straightened his bolo tie and used a bristle brush to clean his black suit. Not that he needed it.

It was always good to make sure though. Sometimes when he morphed back into human form, he forgot himself and wolf hairs stuck to him.

Damned curse.

He stared down at his black cowboy boots. He’d come to California with three pair and these were his favorite, lucky boots. Well, they weren’t so lucky this morning.

Mo drove to West Hollywood in a daze, trying to imagine not being here anymore. He was surprised when he hit the turnoff on the ten for La Cienega Boulevard and headed south. On Pico, he found street parking and almost didn’t pay for the meter. Just out of spite. But it would be just his luck if a parking ticket haunted him across the Pacific.

He slid his credit card into the meter, paid for two hours, not that he thought he’d need it, then stood back to survey his golden beauty. From the outside, the synagogue looked very utilitarian. Inside, it was cozy, temperate, and gorgeous. As he strode into the building, he admired once again the carpet that had been fashioned by his ex-lover, Andrew, out of recycled jeans.

Each and every item used in the construction of the Temple Ruth Center had been a labor of love for Mo, and the artisans he’d brought in to help him with the project. Though not Jewish, he admired the rabbi, Beth Cohen, and the synagogue’s motto of ikkun olan (repair the world).

He believed in beautiful spaces. He believed in being responsible and being accountable. Even as he shook the rabbi’s hand and greeted the reporter from Architectural Digest, he knew his time in LA was short. He could sniff it out, like a coming Santa Ana wind and knew.

Mo Dingley was going to Japan.

He slept badly, falling into a restless snooze on the sofa whilst watching a design program on HGTV. He awoke to canned laughter and raised his head from the cushions tucked under his arm. Somehow he’d rolled over onto the remote and he’d hit an obscure cable station. An old episode of Seinfeld was playing. He’d never seen this one before, but in it, Kramer was renting out drawers in his bedroom bureau to stranded Japanese tourists. He watched as Kramer tucked them into their makeshift beds, wishing them a good night’s sleep.

I can’t sleep in a drawer! Are beds really that small there?

He hit the Internet and checked the address that Sampson had written down for him. He was astonished at how wonderful it seemed. The apartment, located in the neighborhood of Akasaka (Red Hill in English) in the Minato-ku district, was right near his new office, and two blocks from the American Embassy. According to the blogs he read, foreigners gravitated toward this area because of its international supermarkets. Almost everybody spoke English. During the day, it was a hard-working business area. At night, its restaurant and clubs ensured a busy evening, as well. Weekends, according to his research were much quieter, because the working men went to their own neighborhoods.

The ancient streets featured some geisha houses, which tickled him. He wondered if there were gay ones. How far was it from the gay district? And what was it called, anyway? He checked. Shinjuku Ni-ch?me. Popularly known as Nich?. Now that looked really cool. Saunas, coffee shops, bars. Beautiful men.

As long as he could escape into solitude each full moon, he’d be fine.

I think I could live there. He studied the apartment building. The Akasaka Tower building was so tall it made him dizzy looking at him.

This ain’t no mustang ranch, sport. He took a deep breath. He was able to view an apartment via virtual tour. It looked very modern and clean, with granite countertops in the kitchen and surprisingly huge windows overlooking the city.  The bedroom looked  big enough. It sure beat the heck out of being unemployed.

He eyed the time on his VCR/DVD player. Ten fifteen P.M.

On the TV, as Jerry and Elaine acted shocked about Kramer renting the Japanese tourists his bedroom drawers, Kramer defended himself by saying, “Have you ever seen the business hotels in Tokyo? They sleep in tiny stacked cubicles all the time! They feel right at home!”

He sighed at the racist overtones to the plotline. Maybe this was his opportunity to offer his input into ikkun olan. Maybe he could help in some way make a contribution to repairing the world.

Mo picked up the phone and called Jonathan Sampson. He wasn’t surprised when the man answered.

“I’m in,” was all Mo said. And then he started to pack.

Purchase

Torquere Press

Euphoria SquareMeet the Author

 

A.J. Llewellyn

A.J. Llewellyn’s obsession with myth, magic, love, and romance might have led to serious stalking charges had it not been for the ability to write. Thanks to the existence of some very patient publishers, A.J.’s days are spent writing, reading and dreaming up new worlds. A.J. has definitely stopped Google-searching former boyfriends and given up all ambition to taste test every cupcake in the universe to produce over 200 published gay erotic romance novels.

A.J. wants you to read them all. A.J. can be found lurking on Facebook and Twitter—part-time class clown being another occupation. When not writing or reading, A.J.’s other passions include juggling, kite-boarding, and spending a fortune buying upgrade apps for Pearl’s Peril and Farm Heroes Saga.

D.J. Manly

I write not only for my own pleasure, but for the pleasure of my readers. I can’t remember a time in my life when I haven’t written and told stories. When I’m not writing, I’m dreaming about writing. Eroticism between consenting adults, in all its many forms is the icing on the cake of life but one does not live by sex alone. The story of how two people find love in spite of the odds is what really turns me on.

 

Social Media Links:

Amazon Author Page:

http://www.amazon.com/A.J.-Llewellyn/e/B002DBJBC2

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/aj.llewellyn

http://www.facebook.com/dante.manly

Pinterest:

http://www.pinterest.com/ajllewellyn

Twitter:

http://www.twitter.com/ajllewellyn

http://www.twitter.com/djnovels

Website:

http://www.ajllewellyn.com

http://www.djmanlyfiction.com

Giveaway

Rafflecopter Prize: One winner will be selected to win an eBook copy or a signed paperback copy of Love off the Radar.

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Its All About Dragon Men and Their Mates with Dragon Men Series by Amber Kell – Series Recap Tour and Giveaway

Amber Kell – Dragon Men Series – Series Recap & Giveaway

 
Dragons. Scaled mythical beasts known for their powerful imagery across the ages. But what happens when those same beasts can transform into equally impressive men. The dukes, lords and religious icons of the planet Dragait are looking for their mates. Where can they find those lucky few who can match the passion and wonder of a shapeshifting dragon. In this series you discover what happens when a dragon finds something more valuable than gold to hoard.
 
Mate Hunt
 
Joriah Eprion didn̥t know what sort of trouble he could get into when his father sends him to another planet to find a mate. Barely making it into the spaceport he tumbles into a sizzling attraction to a man sitting at the spaceport then falls equally for another man at a bar. Unable to resist either man he sets up a confrontation between two of the most powerful men in the kingdom both who are vying for his hand. Will Jory survive their courtship or will he become a
pawn between two men used to getting their own way.
Some m/m/m scenes.


Mate Test
 
When High Duke Torrance Zelan is sent to negotiate mineral rights he didn’t know that his uncle had already offered Tor’s hand in marriage. Still broken-hearted from losing his lover two years before, Tor isn’t prepared for his attraction to the dragon king. King Naron knows it’s wrong to trick the handsome duke, but the temptation to test Tor for compatibility is too much to resist. Out of all the candidates Naron knows which sexy lord he wants warming his bed.

 
Mate Dance
 
Heading to a bar after a dance performance, intergalactically famous dancer, Raven, ran into a little girl beside the dead body of her grandmother. His one good deed in helping out the little girl, his one good deed would leads him into the arms of a dragon prince. Raven soon learns that once a dragon claims its mate, it will keep him closer than gold.

ARe:https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-matedance-1281182-340.html

 
Mate Healer
 
Lian Blythorpe avoids entanglements. Scared by his parents’ violent ending he vows to keep things light between himself and any partner. His plans are abandoned when he meets Nevair Dragonfang, the religious leader for an entire planet. One glance into Nevair’s intense gaze and Lian melts. It only takes one time before Lian finds himself captured by his sexy mate and can’t imagine life without him. Unfortunately not everyone is pleased with their mating and one man’s jealousy leads Lian to a trial by fire he might be able to survive.

ARe:https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-matehealer-1271540-340.html

 
Author Bio

Amber Kell has made a career out of daydreaming. It has been a lifelong habit she practices diligently as shown by her complete lack of focus on anything not related to her fantasy world building.

When she told her husband what she wanted to do with her life, he told her to go have fun.
During those seconds she isn’t writing, she remembers she has children who humor her with games of ‘what if’ and let her drag them to foreign lands to gather inspiration. Her youngest confided in her that he wants to write because he longs for a website and an author name—two things apparently necessary to be a proper writer.

Despite her husband’s insistence she doesn’t drink enough to be a true literary genius, she continues to spin stories of people falling happily in love and staying that way.

She is thwarted during the day by a traffic jam of cats on the stairway and a puppy who insists on walks, but she bravely perseveres.

Website: http://www.amberkell.com
E-mail: amberkellwrites@gmail.com

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Its Love Times Three with ‘No Remedy (Bounty, #2)’ by Christine d’Abo (author guest post and giveaway)

No Remedy

No Remedy (Bounty, #2)  by Christine d’Abo
Riptide Publishing
Cover Artist Lou Harper

Read an Excerpt/Buy It Here

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Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to have Christine d’Abo here today to talk  about the second novel in her Bounty series, No Remedy.  Welcome, Christine.

********

Hello, my name is Christine d’Abo! Thank you so much for having me here on the blog today.

There’s something really enticing about a ménage story. Am I right?? Lots of hot, sweaty bodies all crammed together doing all sorts of things to one another. In the case of No Remedy, that crammed space is both in the cockpit and under the bedsheets.

Mace is on a mission to save her friend and captain, Faolan Wolf. She’s been working closely with Alec, a brilliant scientist who seems to be on the verge of a cure for the disease that’s killing Faolan. But when his ex-lover Byron shows up, Mace realizes that there’s more to Alec than meets the eye.

Byron is dominant in the bedroom and just as pushy outside. While she might put up with it for a few rounds of great sex, there’s no way she’ll let him put Faolan’s life in jeopardy. Too bad the lines get blurred and she starts to fall for both Alec and Byron. But she’s not sure if there’s room enough in their relationship for three.

If you would like to learn more about me, please pay a visit to my website www.christinedabo.com. I’m also very active on Twitter as @Christine_dAbo and have a monthly newsletter. If you’d like to sign up, simply click here to fill out the form.

About No Remedy

For months, Mace Simms has been seeking an antidote for the poison killing her mentor. Her only hope is Alec Roiten, a brilliant scientist hiding on a backwater planet. Posing as a research assistant, Mace offers the elusive genius all the help she can, ignoring the explosive chemistry between them. Soon they’re close to a cure.

But then Alec’s former love Byron shows up, attempting to claim a bounty on Alec’s head, and all that careful research gets left behind when they’re forced to flee. And when Byron realizes the tip-off about Alec was a ruse by his rivals to lure him out into the open to kill him, the bounty hunt turns into a three-person scramble for survival.

Byron wants his old lover back, Alec is consumed by a haunting secret about the poison he’s desperate to defeat, and Mace is caught between them. But she’s beginning to think that’s exactly where she belongs as the three are drawn together in their race against death.

Publisher’s note: This title is an edited second edition, previously published in 2011.

About Christine d’Abo

A romance novelist and short story writer, Christine has over thirty publications to her name. She loves to exercise and stops writing just long enough to keep her body in motion too. When she’s not pretending to be a ninja in her basement, she’s most likely spending time with her family and two dogs.

Connect with Christine:

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Giveaway

To celebrate the release of the Bounty series, one lucky person will receive a $50 gift certificate to Riptide. Winner will be selected from across all three book tours (No Quarter, No Remedy, No Master) and as such, the contest is open until midnight, Eastern time, on July 2, 2016. Contest is NOT restricted to U.S. entries. Comment to enter, and don’t forget to leave your contact info!

Bounty

Bounty hunters and pirates may contend for dominance in the vast reaches of interstellar space, but the heart of the conflict always comes down to who you know. Who you hate. Who you love.

Whether the prize is a priceless gem, political gain, the antidote to a rare poison, or a bounty big enough to secure any hunter’s future, the only way for a pirate or a hunter to come out ahead is by building alliances. One system, one planet, one person, one heart at a time. The distance between the stars may be infinite, but love doesn’t care about boundaries.

Publisher’s Note: While books #1 and #2 should be read in order, #3 stands alone and can be read without the first two.

No Quarter (Bounty, #1)  by Christine d’Abo

No Remedy (Bounty, #2) by Christine d’Abo

No Master (Bounty, #3) byChristine d’Abo

Is There Love Without Pain? Find Out with ‘Debt’ by K.C. Well {excerpt and giveaway}

Title: Debt
Author: K.C. Wells
Genre: M/M Romance
Release Date: May 27, 2016
Release Blitz Hosted by Enticing Journey Book Promotions


Two months after Mitch Jenkins had the rug pulled out from under him when his two-year relationship came to an abrupt end, he is still hurting. A colleague’s attempt to cheer him up brings Mitch to a secret “club.” Mitch isn’t remotely interested in the twinks parading like peacocks, until he spies the young man at the back of the room, nose firmly in a book and oblivious to his surroundings. Now Mitch is interested.

Nikko Kurokawa wants to pay his debt and get the hell out of the Black Lounge—where he is forced not only to have sex, but sometimes suffer abuse to please clients. Earning his freedom isn’t proving easy, especially when he starts attracting interest. Life becomes that little bit easier to bear when he meets Mitch, who is nothing like the other men who frequent the club. And when Mitch crawls under his skin and into his heart, Nikko figures he can put up with anything. Before long he’ll be out of there, and he and Mitch can figure out if they have a future together.

Neither of them counted on those who don’t want Nikko to leave….

“Debt is sexy & dangerous; it has it all: age gap, hurt-comfort, suspense, sweetness, serious steam, a happy ending, and two men who refuse to give up on each other.” – Reader review

“Well written, at times heartbreaking, often touching, very sexy, and with an unforgettable storyline and characters, Debt is without a doubt one of my favourites among K.C. Well’s amazing books.” – Reader review

“Have you ever come across a book that grabs you by the heart, shakes you up, drags you through a myriad of emotions, then spits you out the other side happy and hopeful, yet wondering what happened and how you got there? Well, Debt by K.c. Wells is one of those stories.” – Reader review

“So?” Aaron nudged him again. “Which one lights your candle?” He grinned. “You’ve got to admit, there are some beautiful men in there.” He nodded toward one young man standing nearest the window. He was stroking down over his chest and well-defined abs, to where a thick cock jutted out toward them. Just then the young man turned and bent over, reaching back to spread his cheeks and reveal a pink, glistening hole, clearly lubed. He wiggled his ass, his dick bobbing stiffly.

Aaron smothered a chuckle. “Wow. He’s eager.”

That wasn’t the word in Mitch’s mind. He preferred blatant, and it wasn’t turning him on. In fact, none of them were.

“This is a mistake,” he said quietly. “Thanks for bringing me here, but honestly, this isn’t me. And there isn’t one guy who does it for me.” His gaze swept across the room, taking in the smiling, pouting faces and….

Mitch stopped, his pulse quickening. “Him.” How did I miss him?

Aaron peered in the direction of Mitch’s stare. “Which one?”

At the back of the room was a small table and a couple of armchairs facing each other. In one of them sat a young man with long, black hair tied in a single braid down his back. He was Japanese in appearance, with small, round glasses perched on his nose. Physically he was slight, not that tall as far as Mitch could tell. Unlike the others, he wore a pair of jeans and a white shirt.

What caught Mitch’s attention was the fact that he was reading a book, his legs curled up under him, lost in his own world.

“Mitch?” Aaron pinched his arm.

“Hey!” Mitch grumbled, rubbing the spot near his elbow. “What was that for?”

“You were off in cloud cuckoo land.” Aaron cocked his eyebrows. “Well? I repeat, which one?”

“The one with the book.” There was something so delightfully incongruous about him that Mitch was intrigued.

“Really?”

Mitch dragged his gaze away to give Aaron a firm stare. “You said to take my pick, so I pick him.” He couldn’t account for the way his body reacted to the young man. His heart pounded and his mouth was dry.

“That’s Nikko. He’s new here.”

Mitch turned toward the speaker. A dark-haired man wearing a black suit and matching shirt smiled at him. “My name is Randy. I’m here to give you any information you require.” He gave a flick of his head toward the window. “Nikko only joined us recently. Would you like to meet him, and if so, for how long?”

His heart still racing, Mitch regarded the young man who was oblivious to his surroundings. “An hour?”

Beside him Aaron chuckled. “And that’s my cue to leave.” He patted Mitch on the arm. “Enjoy, with my blessing. You can tell me all about it on Monday.”

“Thanks, Aaron.” Mitch gave him a warm smile. “And as for Monday? Uh-uh.” The smile became a grin. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

He snorted. “Spoilsport. And you have nothing to thank me for yet.” Aaron grinned. “See ya.” He walked toward the door and gave one last wave before disappearing through it.

Mitch returned his attention to Randy, who was regarding him with a hint of amusement. Mitch cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I’m new to all this.”

Randy’s smile widened. “Then you and Nikko have something in common. Do you have your card?” Mitch held it up and Randy peered at it. “Okay, that’s fine. If you’ll come with me, please?”

He led Mitch through the door at the end of the lounge. They were in a long hallway with doors on either side. Randy escorted Mitch to door number seven and opened it. The room was small, but what it lacked in size, it made up for in furnishings. In the corner was a Chinese painted screen and a washbasin with a thick towel hanging from a rail beside it. Most of the space was taken up by a bed adorned with white sheets, a soft gray comforter, pillows, and cushions. A wide chair faced the bed, its cushions deep. There were no windows. At the head of the bed was a large mirror, and beside it, a small cabinet with two drawers.

“You’ll find condoms and packets of lube in the cabinet,” Randy said. “You’re aware of the club’s strict safe-sex policy.”

Mitch nodded. He had no problem with that. He’d never had bareback sex in his life.

“There are also some toys, should you require them. If there’s something particular you’d like, simply ask. We do cater for those clients who are into S&M, but they generally stipulate their needs ahead of time. Would that be of interest to you this evening?”

Mitch was sure his face was bright red. “Uh, not for me, thank you.”

Randy gave a polite nod. “Then I shall go and bring Nikko to you.” He exited the room.

Mitch gazed around him while he removed his jacket. He placed it on the chair and examined the prints on the wall. The room was definitely nothing like he’d expected; he’d had something much more austere in mind. A glance behind the screen revealed a toilet, tastefully hidden from view.

They really do think of everything.

Mitch scanned the walls and corners for any sign of a camera. Nothing. But from a safety aspect alone, he knew there had to be one in there somewhere.

Damn, they’re good.

He came back to the bed and sat, bouncing on it to test its springiness.

“Are we to be using it as a trampoline?” a soft voice asked.

Mitch jerked his head toward the door just as it closed gently. Nikko stood there, his fingers laced together in front of him, dark brown eyes focused on Mitch, his braid not visible, his expression impassive.

Mitch coughed and rose to his feet. “Maybe not.” He took a few steps toward Nikko, his hand extended, his belly tensed. Inwardly he cursed his uncertainty. It wasn’t as if he was a stranger to meeting guys, but after two years of being in a relationship, he felt decidedly out of practice. And this was definitely a new experience.

Nikko took his hand almost shyly and shook it, his fingers cool to the touch. “I’m Nikko.” The handshake over, he laced his fingers once more and stepped back, maintaining his distance from Mitch. His manner had Mitch retreating too.

“Is that your real name, or just one you use here?” Mitch wanted to know. When Nikko raised his eyebrows, Mitch felt the warm flush that rose up his chest and neck. “I’m sorry. This is my first time in a… in one of these places.”

Nikko became still for a moment, tension evident in his posture. When he smiled, it didn’t reach his eyes. “Then we have something in common. And to answer your question, Nikko is my real name. May I know yours?” Those eyes were captivating, a rich, deep brown framed with long, sooty black lashes, and set in a pale, unblemished face.

“I’m Mitch.” It was on the tip of his tongue to say Pleased to meet you, but the words sounded wrong given the circumstances. I don’t suppose there are etiquette rules for greeting a hooker in a brothel.

Not that Nikko resembled his preconceptions of what a hooker looked like. The young man was beautiful, maybe five foot five, six max. He felt tiny next to Mitch’s five foot eleven. Those clasped fingers were slim, his hands delicate. Mitch was reminded of one of his mother’s ethereal porcelain figurines in her china cabinet back home. They shared that same fragile quality.

“Are… are you feeling awkward too?” Nikko asked, biting his bottom lip. “You’re my first… client.” A flush crept across his cheeks and his ears turned red.

His words stirred something in Mitch’s chest, an absurd desire to enfold Nikko in his arms, to protect him. The yearning took him by surprise. Maybe it was Nikko’s slight build, his fragility, that engendered the inclination. Whatever it was, it sent a rush of warmth through Mitch’s body.

He beckoned to Nikko. “Come here.”

Slowly Nikko walked over to him, his gaze fixed on Mitch’s face. He stopped a few feet in front of him and tilted his chin up, not quite meeting Mitch’s gaze. The rapid rise and fall of Nikko’s chest, the ragged breathing, betrayed the nerves he hid. Mitch stretched out his hand to cup Nikko’s face, his large hand exaggerating the diminutive young man’s size.

“How old are you?” Mitch asked quietly. Nikko had to be barely legal.

“I-I’m twenty-two,” Nikko said in a low voice that cracked. “I know how I look, Mitch. I’m old enough to work here. This may be my first time with a client, but I’m not a virgin.”

“I never thought for a second that a virgin would be working here,” Mitch admitted. He tilted his head. “You can come closer, you know. I won’t hurt you.”

Nikko swallowed, blinking. “I… I’m sorry. It’s just that you’re not how I expected a client to be.”

Mitch took a step closer. “How did you think I would be?” He kept his voice low and soothing. Nikko reminded him of a colt he’d spent time with on his uncle’s farm as a boy. The young man gave an impression of being about to bolt at any second.

Nikko took a deep breath. “I didn’t expect to be treated with so much… respect.”

Now Mitch got it. “Come closer,” he said, coaxingly. When Nikko hesitated, Mitch gave him a warm smile. “Nikko, I meant it. I will not hurt you. I don’t have it in me to do that.”

Nikko regarded him in silence. “I believe you.” He inhaled slowly and took that last step to bring him to Mitch.

Mitch couldn’t help himself. He bent his head lower and took Nikko’s mouth in a gentle kiss. Nikko held himself still for a moment longer before putting his slim arms around Mitch’s neck and responding, his lips parting.

When Mitch broke the kiss, Nikko looked up at him with shining eyes. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

Nikko smiled, this time genuinely. “For being gentle.” His breathing hitched. “You… you make this easier than I thought it would be, Mitch.”

Mitch’s first reaction was a surge of pleasure, until a thought nagged at him. He paused, his hands on Nikko’s shoulders. “Are you here because you want to be?” Something about Nikko’s choice of words tugged at his mind.

Nikko regarded him, face calm. “I chose to be here, Mitch. Have no doubt about that.” There was no trace of deception in his voice or expression. He reached up with both hands and cupped Mitch’s face. “Kiss me again?” His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Are you asking because you want to be kissed or because you feel you should ask?”

Nikko stared at him, lowering his hands, his eyes wide. “You are… perceptive.”

Mitch shrugged. “I use my eyes, is all. If you’d rather we sit on the bed for a while, maybe chat, that’s okay, I don’t mind.” He waited for Nikko to make the next move. The young man was skittish enough without Mitch making matters worse.

Nikko’s breathing grew more even. “Then I should like you to kiss me, because”—he stroked Mitch’s cheek, the touch light, and for the first time, he looked Mitch in the eye—“because I want you to.”

Mitch smiled. “That’s better.” He caressed Nikko’s cheek, brushing his fingertips over his cheekbones. “Because I want to kiss you.”

Nikko closed his eyes, lips parted, waiting.

Fuck. Nikko was beautiful.
Born and raised in the north-west of England, K.C. WELLS always loved writing. Words were important. Full stop. However, when childhood gave way to adulthood, the writing ceased, as life got in the way. K.C. discovered erotic fiction in 2009, when the purchase of a ménage storyline led to the startling discovery that reading about men in love was damn hot. In 2012, arriving at a really low point in life led to the desperate need to do something creative. An even bigger discovery waited in the wings—writing about men in love was even hotter….


K.C. now writes full-time and is loving every minute of her new career. The laptop still has no idea of what hit it… it only knows that it wants a rest, please. And it now has to get used to the idea that where K.C goes, it goes. 

And as for those men in love that she writes about? The list of stories just waiting to be written is getting longer… and longer….

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In the Spotlight: His Boy by Bink Cummings (excerpt and giveaway)

Title: His Boy
Author: Bink Cummings
Genre: M/M Romance Novella
Release Date: May 25, 2016

 For years, I lived with him as roommates. Then, one fateful night, things changed. We became more. So much more. The sex was out of this world. Being his boy was the highlight of my day. Until feelings started to creep in and sex wasn’t enough for me. Afraid of losing him, I kept quiet and hoped for a miracle… Could my Daddy love me, too? Or would I continue to be his boy… his play toy?

Warning: Contains shameless adult sexual M/M content, adult language, taboo elements including those of consensual Daddy/Boy (non-incest) relationships, and whatever else that makes it unsuitable for anyone under the age of 18. 

Long 39K Standalone Steamy Novella 

– See some of your favorite characters from the Corrupt Chaos MC series and meet new Characters to be seen in the upcoming Crimson Outlaws MC series.

Author Bink Cummings was born and raised part of a biker family. Upon the incessant coercion from her sacred sisters, she has begun her newest journey in life–writing. When she’s not shacked up in her home writing at all hours of the night, Bink enjoys riding motorcycles, taking care of her family, reading, and cooking huge meals–Especially her infamous chocolate chip cookies.

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Delayed Cover Reveal for Blood Lines by A.L Bates (cover reveal and giveaway)

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Delayed Cover Reveal for Blood Lines by A.L Bates

Due to the delayed release date of Blood Lines by A.L. Bates the Cover Reveal has been pushed back to June  13th!

Join us then for the Cover Reveal, excerpts and giveaway!