Category: LGBTQ Book Reviews

An Alisa Review: Commanding Officer Thomas by J.M. Snyder

Rating:  4 stars out of 5

Lieutenant Lee Mallory spends his time off duty playing video games. There isn’t much else to do while stationed on the USS Nova out in deep space.

Unfortunately, a run in with his commanding officer, Jonan Thomas, strips him — and everyone else onboard — of their gaming privileges.

Thomas has had it in for Lee from day one, when they got off on the wrong foot. Now, banned from using the game server in the rec room, Lee sneaks online in his quarters after hours, looking to play.

That’s where he meets a fellow gamer onboard who’s interested in a different kind of game. As much as Lee wants to hook up, though, he can’t afford to get into any more trouble.

Can Lee take command — in the game and in the bedroom — without further aggravating his CO?

I liked this story, it wasn’t very focused on the characters’ relationship but I don’t think that was a problem.  Lee got off on the wrong foot when he first met his CO and hasn’t gained any ground since. Jonan reacted badly when he first met Lee and hasn’t been able to figure out a way to fix that.

I could see Lee’s frustration at how the CO is treating him and his fear when he first learns who “Jo” really is.  They turn out to be very compatible but I can’t help but wonder how they can make it work.  They are cute though.

The cover art by Written Ink Designs is nice and I really liked the cover.

Sales Links: JMS Books | Amazon | B&N

Book Details:

ebook, 14,204 words

Published: June 16, 2018 by JMS Books

ISBN: 9781634866507

Edition Language: English

New Book Release Blitz for Commanding Officer Thomas by J.M. Snyder (excerpt and giveaway)

 

 
Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK | JMS Books
 
Length: 14,204 words
 
Publisher: JMS Books
 
Blurb
 

Lieutenant Lee Mallory spends his time off duty playing video games. There isn’t much else to do while stationed on the USS Nova out in deep space.

Unfortunately, a run in with his commanding officer, Jonan Thomas, strips him — and everyone else onboard — of their gaming privileges.

Thomas has had it in for Lee from day one, when they got off on the wrong foot. Now, banned from using the game server in the rec room, Lee sneaks online in his quarters after hours, looking to play.

That’s where he meets a fellow gamer onboard who’s interested in a different kind of game. As much as Lee wants to hook up, though, he can’t afford to get into any more trouble.

Can Lee take command — in the game and in the bedroom — without further aggravating his CO?

 
Excerpt
 

Lee kept an eye on her as she benched the weight, but most of his attention was diverted to the sexy guy now doing side planks. Lee toyed with the idea of approaching him, but how would that look? Hey, I saw you exercising. You’re kinda hot. Any way he played it out in his head, he knew it sounded like nothing more than a bad pickup line.

The guy jumped up from the plank and ran in place, feet a blur, knees pumping double time. Then he started doing lunges, alternating legs and turning a quarter turn with each set.

As he turned, Lee admired the way his little gym shorts pulled taut across his pert ass. When he added arm crunches to his routine, the muscles in his arms stood out, veins cabling in relief.

Lee watched, entranced. He liked this one — so energetic. What would that energy be like in bed? His dick stirred at the sight of the guy’s buttocks flexing beneath the thin fabric. He imagined them both naked together, in his quarters, that round ass clenched tight and waiting beneath him. He could almost feel that pliant flesh in his hands as he massaged those ass cheeks, kneaded them, then pushed them together to ease his cock between them. He could almost see the dark tip of his dick peek out between the juicy twin mounds as he humped them once, twice, God. Just thinking about it made him hard.

Below him, Brenna made an exasperated sound. “Dude, you’re tenting. Chill.”

Lee shifted his legs to hide his budding erection. Budding? Hell, a few minutes more and he’d get off on his fantasy alone.

The barbell clanked back into the rack and Brenna sat up. Then she grabbed her towel off the bench and wiped the sweat off her face. With a sigh, she said, “Look, I know when I’m being ignored.”

“I’m not ignoring you!” Lee jiggled the barbell. “Come on, you need to get in your reps. I’m sorry –”

“It’s fine,” she assured him. “I’m done. Go talk to him already, will you?”

Sudden fear lurched in Lee’s chest. “What? I can’t. I don’t know him.”

“But you want to,” Brenna said. “So go over there and introduce yourself.”

“No!”

Across the gym, the guy they were discussing stopped exercising abruptly, as if he’d heard them. He raised his left leg, then reached back with his right hand to grab his foot and pull it back into a slow stretch. After a moment, he switched legs. Then he twisted at the waist, and he caught Lee staring.

Lee felt his face flush. God.

“He knows you now,” Brenna said. “Go on, man up.”

Before Lee could gather up his courage, the guy grabbed a nearby towel to wipe down and headed their way.

“Go on,” Brenna hissed.

The pressure was on. Lee’s palms grew slick, his cheeks burned. This was it, his moment, go for it. But what should he say? “Hey baby,” was a bit too blunt, but “Sup” sounded too informal. The guy was coming closer, he was almost close enough to speak to, damn.

Suddenly Lee’s mind locked up, and his mouth moved on its own. His tongue curved over his teeth, his bottom lip curled, and he let out a randy whistle.

The guy froze and stared at them. His eyes were dark — blue? black? Lee wasn’t sure, but they flashed under heavy brows knit together in confusion or anger, one of the two. Not exactly the reaction Lee had hoped for.

“Was that directed at me?” the guy asked.

His voice was level, calm. Maybe Lee was misreading the situation. Still, just to be safe, he gave a one-shouldered shrug and made a noncommittal noise he hoped could be read as either yes or no, depending on how it was interpreted.

The guy looked unimpressed. “What’s your name, mister?”

Maybe he was interested, after all. Lee tamped down the flicker of hope in his chest. “Lee. Lee Mallory with the 58th. This is –”

“Lieutenant Mallory.”

The blasé way he drew out Lee’s name set off all kinds of warning bells. “How’d you know my rank?”

Rubbing the towel over his close-cropped hair, the guy sounded casually disinterested as he replied, “You’re right. We haven’t been formally introduced. But I’ve heard all about you, Lieutenant.”

Beside him, Brenna groaned. “Oh no.”

Lee still didn’t get it. “What do you mean?”

“He’s our new CO,” Brenna moaned.

Now he smiled, a cold, hard slash across his face. “It’s Thomas. And you’ll address me as Commander or sir, is that understood?”

“Sir! Yes, sir!” Lee snapped to attention, as if that might help dig him out of trouble.

It didn’t. “So I’ll ask you again,” Thomas drawled. “Was that whistle directed at me?”

Lee didn’t know how to answer, what to say. What could he say? “Um …”

Author Bio
 

J.M. Snyder is a multi-published author of gay erotic romance who started writing fanfic (specifically, boyband slash). She has worked with several different e-publishers, including Amber Allure Press and Torquere Press, and has short stories published in anthologies by Alyson Books, Cleis Press, eXcessica, and Lethe Press. In 2010, she started JMS Books LLC to promote and publish her own work as well as that of other authors she enjoys.

For more information, please visit jmsnyder.net.

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New Release Blitz for Daniel (The Third Legacy) by RJ Scott (excerpt and giveaway)

 

 
Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK – Now available in Kindle Unlimited
 
Length: 51,000 words approx
 
Cover Design: Meredith Russell
 
Legacy Series
 
Kyle – The First Legacy – Amazon US | Amazon UK
Gabriel – The Second Legacy – Amazon US | Amazon UK
 
Blurb
 

Daniel worked hard at college, using coping strategies to shut himself off from any situation that might hurt. But, persistent nightmares and fears for his future drive him to revisit the past. Now Legacy might be the only place to give him a chance at peace.


After the tragic loss of his parents, Corey is head of the family now, and the welfare of his three younger sisters are what matters the most. Corey is desperate to find Daniel, tell him the truth and somehow convince him to keep secrets. Even if this leads to heartbreak.


When the world crumbles around Corey, and Daniel is running scared, Legacy ranch is their only hope.


A new story set in the world of Jack and Riley Campbell-Hayes and the Double D Ranch, Texas.


Excerpt

Chapter 1

Eight years ago

I want to go home.
Daniel Chandler trudged miserably down the long black ribbon of road, tears burning his eyes, and hopelessness tightening his chest. The heat of an August Texas day had subsided to a slightly cooler evening, and the sky was a brilliant mass of stars, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up at them anymore.

How had everything gone this badly wrong? Brett had promised that he would take Daniel somewhere far away from his foster family, but one weird question from an inquisitive cashier at a gas station and Brett had panicked. He’d refused to go any further, and said he was going home.

Daniel didn’t want to go back to San Antonio. He wanted freedom, and the ability to decide for himself where his life was going. He’d overheard his foster parents talking about how he was a liability; that he costed them more than they made, and he knew it was only a matter of time before they got rid of him anyway.

So he refused to leave with Brett and got out of the car.

Brett didn’t care, and he drove away, leaving Daniel stranded.

Daniel kicked a stone, stumbling a little when he misjudged the curve of the road. He’d eaten the cereal bars that Brett had tossed him and used up all the water. Which left him in the heat, without food or drink, and carrying a backpack with limited clothes. He also had books—his favorites, and a wallet which contained nothing more than a couple of hundred dollars he’d saved from his gardening job. The only official thing he had in the bag was his ID.

He’d left his most recent home at six-thirty a.m., with no real idea of where he was going or what he was doing, only knowing he wasn’t going to spend another minute in a house where he wasn’t wanted.

Hunching his shoulders against the weight of his backpack, he carried on. Sometimes he hummed to a song in his head. Other times he counted the steps he took, but most of the time he stared ahead, not counting or humming at all.

A car pulled up alongside him. No, a truck, and at first his heart leaped. Brett was back. He’d changed his mind and returned to help Daniel.

A female voice called out. “Can we give you a lift somewhere?” she asked through the open window.

Daniel saw she wasn’t much older than he was, long blonde hair swept up into a ponytail, her smile wide, her expression kind. A man sat in the driver’s seat, but he was in the shadows, and at first, Daniel couldn’t make out his face until he leaned forward. The first thing Daniel noticed was the dog collar, then the same kindly smile as the girl. They were clearly related, both fair, with light eyes and an angular balance to their features.

“Hello, young man. My daughter and I are heading to Laredo. Would you like us to take you?”

He smiled at Daniel, this man in black with the white collar. This was an average family. They probably thought he was a hitchhiker and were offering genuine help. If Daniel couldn’t trust a man of the cloth traveling with his daughter, then who could he trust? He scanned the road behind him, waiting for Brett to suddenly appear and pick him up, but he was tired, hungry, and verging on desperate.

“Thank you.” Daniel opened the back door. He’d never hitchhiked before, didn’t know what the etiquette was, but he felt like he should offer to pay. “I can cover gas,” he said.

“No need for that,” the dad said and extended a hand awkwardly over the seat, which Daniel shook. “Father Frank Martins and this is my daughter Andrea.”

Andrea glanced back at him and grinned again. “Hey.”

“Daniel,” Daniel replied, as mute as usual around a girl as he was with boys. She turned back to the front, and Frank put the truck in drive.

“Buckle up,” he said.

Daniel did as he was told. Then settled back for the ride.

“Where are you from?” Frank asked after a few moments of silence, filled only with the soft sound of tires on blacktop.

“San Antonio,” Daniel answered.

“Really? What brings you this far south?”

Andrea shushed her dad, “Stop asking him questions, Daddy.”

Her dad huffed a gentle laugh. “Sorry.” He used the mirror to see Daniel. “You like music?”

Daniel nodded, thankful to Andrea for running interference.

Frank fiddled with the stereo. Country music filled the cab, and Frank hummed along. Andrea was on her phone, as evidenced by the glow of light as screens changed, and Daniel regretted leaving his phone at home. In his mad, stupid, anger, he’d wanted no way for his foster parents to keep tabs on him, but right now, he kind of wished he could phone them. He should pluck up the courage and ask Andrea to borrow hers. Maybe give his foster-parents a quick call, apologize, get them to pick him up, or at least arrange a bus.

They would help him. He didn’t doubt that. Even if he’d been an idiot and they wanted to hand him off to the next family, they would never leave a fourteen year old kid stranded miles from home.

“You thirsty?” Frank asked, and before Daniel could answer, Frank had unlocked the glove box and pulled out a bottle of water, passing it back to Daniel.

He took it with grateful thanks and downed a third of it in thirsty gulps. They reached the outskirts of a small town, and the car slowed to a stop outside a cookie-cutter house, a pretty place with manicured lawns.

Andrea turned around to look at Daniel.

“This is where I get out,” she announced. “Nice to meet you, Daniel.”

I thought they were both going on to Laredo?

Frank turned around as well. “I can take you all the way into the city. It’s only another ten minutes or so to the bus station or somewhere like that? A hostel?”

“I’m not sure—”

Frank interrupted, “Or you could stay the night here or a motel. We have one a few blocks down from here.”

Andrea shut the door and jogged up to the house, vanishing inside.

“Could I just borrow your phone?” Daniel asked.

Frank smiled, nodded, and pulled out his phone, tutting as he did so. “Oh my, the phone’s dead. You want to use my house phone? Or shall I just get you to the city? The bus station, right? They have public phones there.”

So many decisions. So many difficult choices, he thought and yawned.

“Yeah.” Daniel just wanted to get home.

“Yeah, what?” Frank prompted.

Daniel blinked at him. He was tired, and everything felt kind of hazy. “Yeah, home.” Back to his pretend parents and his pretend family, but back to a warm bed.

“Come on. Get in the front here.”

Daniel did as he was told, his limbs feeling heavy, and his coordination shit. Finally, he was belted in the front, and he closed his eyes briefly, exhaustion washing over him.

“That’s a good boy,” Frank murmured. “You sleep now.”

The country music got quieter, Frank’s humming was louder, and the journey to the city took a long time, the car swaying, and Daniel’s head thicker, full of softness and a weird kind of peace. He saw fields and signs, but none of them made any sense. Finally, he couldn’t fight the overwhelming lethargy, so he slept.

And woke up in hell.

 

About The Author


RJ’s goal is to write stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and most importantly, that hint of a happily ever after.


RJ is the author of the over one hundred novels and discovered romance in books at a very young age. She realized that if there wasn’t romance on the page, she could create it in her head, and is a lifelong writer.


She lives and works out of her home in the beautiful English countryside, spends her spare time reading, watching films, and enjoying time with her family.


The last time she had a week’s break from writing she didn’t like it one little bit and has yet to meet a bottle of wine she couldn’t defeat.

 

Email RJ (rj@rjscott.co.uk)
Goodreads Page
RJ’s Blog
RJ on Twitter
Facebook
Library Thing Page
Tumblr (some NSFW (not safe for work) photos)
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Book Blast for Witchbane by Morgan Brice (excerpt)

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Witchbane

Author: Morgan Brice

Publisher: Darkwind Press

Cover Artist: Lou Harper

Genre/s: urban fantasy MM paranormal romance

Length: 82 000 words/244 pages

Add on Goodreads  

Blurb

Seth Tanner and his brother Jesse’s fun evening debunking local urban legends ends with Jesse’s gruesome murder. Seth vows revenge on Jesse’s killer–too bad the murderer has been dead for a hundred years. Seth uncovers a cycle of ritual killings that feed the power of a dark warlock’s immortal witch-disciples, and he’s hell bent on stopping Jackson Malone from becoming the next victim. He’s used to risking his neck. He never intended to risk his heart.

Excerpt 

Seth

How the hell did I end up on a date with a cute bartender? Seth walked beside Sonny as they meandered around downtown Richmond. Still, being with Sonny felt comfortable, in a way Seth hadn’t felt with anyone in a long time. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to get to know one of the locals, blow off a little steam, and make a friend who might be able to help him find the elusive Jackson Malone.

Seth had spent all evening watching Sonny tend bar. Sonny was good at his job, helpful to the servers, and made the customers feel at home. He was also damn good looking, and his worn jeans pulled just right across his toned ass. So when Sonny started throwing signals, Seth responded, and suddenly the evening had taken an unexpected turn.

“What do you do for fun?” Sonny asked, making conversation as they walked. Seth knew that behind the casual questions, Sonny was trying to figure out whether taking Seth home was a good idea. Seth found himself wanting to make a good impression.

“I read,” Seth said, sticking as close to the truth as he could. “Watch movies. Action flicks, superheroes, that kind of thing. Play video games, when I have the time. When I got out of the service, I thought I’d take a little time off to see the country, so I’m finally taking the road trip I promised myself.”

“By yourself?” Sonny sounded torn between being impressed and concerned.

Seth shrugged. “I’ve got friends scattered around, from the army and before. So I drop in and catch up. But yeah, mostly by myself. Clears my mind, you know?”

I should just ask him about Malone, Seth thought. The clock’s ticking. If Malone is a regular, Sonny’ll know. Then again, asking the guy he might be hooking up with about another dude was awkward, to say the least. It’s not like I can say, “I need to protect this guy I don’t know from a dark warlock. Do you have his number?”

“You want to go get some coffee?” Sonny asked after they had walked for a while. “This place I know has really good desserts, and it’s a nice place to just sit and chill for a while.”

It had been so long since Seth had been on anything resembling a date that he wasn’t quite sure what to expect. “Sure,” he said, less because he wanted dessert than because he didn’t want his time with Sonny to end yet.

Maybe he’d misread the signals. He’d thought Sonny was interested in him. Like, interested. Not that Seth wanted to have a quickie in the alley behind the bar, but he hadn’t expected Sonny to want to invest time getting to know him. After all, Sonny knew Seth was just passing through. It’s not like there might be a relationship to build.

And yet, as Sonny led him to a cool little indie coffee shop with an Edgar Allen Poe theme, Seth discovered that he felt all right with taking it slow. He liked that Sonny wasn’t rushing things, focused just on getting into Seth’s pants. It had been a long time since Seth had spent time with an attractive guy just talking…and flirting. God, he was rusty. But Sonny made it seem easy. Somehow, just sitting and chatting seemed natural, unforced. And for the first time in a long while, Seth felt himself relax.

“If you want to talk sports, you’re out of luck,” Sonny admitted as they found a cozy alcove with two plump leather chairs angled for conversation. “I know the scores for the latest games because the TV plays in the bar, but I don’t follow any teams.”

“Thank God,” Seth replied, settling into his chair. “I’m better on cars and motorcycles if that’s your thing.”

“I’m not a true gearhead, but I had an uncle who ran a garage and I used to help out in the summers.” Sonny paused to drink his coffee. They’d each paid for their own, but Seth had overheard Sonny’s order. Chai latte. Fancy, but hardly flamboyant. Seth splurged and added cream to his regular coffee. It tasted as good as it smelled.

“I learned to do some basic repairs, more out of necessity than anything else,” Seth admitted. “I’ve got a long way to go before I can strip a car down to the axles and rebuild it…although I think it’s cool to watch someone who can.”

The conversation turned to video games, a passion they both indulged, and Seth enjoyed the chance to talk in detail about his favorites with someone else who had played them through. “We should so do a campaign together,” Seth said and wrote down his username on a napkin for the big multiplayer game they both enjoyed. On impulse, he added his phone number. His heartbeat spiked when he slid the napkin to Sonny, afraid he’d been too forward. But when Sonny tore off a part of the napkin and returned the favor—including the phone number—Seth relaxed again.

“It’ll be fun to campaign with someone I’ve actually met,” Sonny replied. “So many of the guys out there are total douchebags.”

Seth was about to agree when Sonny’s phone rang. “Sorry, it’s work. Gotta take this.” Sonny frowned at the distraction. He listened for a moment, and his expression morphed from annoyance to resignation. “Okay. Give me twenty. Thanks.”

He shoved his phone back into his pocket and looked up at Seth. “I’m really sorry. Eddie, the guy who was supposed to work the night shift, got really sick and had to leave. Liam can’t handle both bars himself. So…I need to go in.”

“That’s okay.” Seth tried to ignore his disappointment. Even if they didn’t end up in bed, he’d been enjoying the company. “This was fun.” Had Sonny set it up for a co-worker to call him with an out if the evening didn’t shape up the way he wanted? Maybe Sonny had been waiting for Seth to make the first move, and decided things weren’t moving along fast enough? S***, how can I f*** up a date?

Sonny leaned over and put his hand on Seth’s arm. “I had a great time,” he said, making a point of meeting Seth’s gaze. “And if you’re still in town, I get off at seven tomorrow, too. If Eddie’s still sick I’ll make sure Liam has a different replacement. So come by if you want to try this again. Maybe go back to my place afterward, you know, Netflix and chill?”

“I’d like that,” Seth said, surprised at how warm Sonny’s hand felt on his arm. “Can I walk you back to Treddy’s?” Since he figured that they had both parked behind the bar, it only seemed right.

“Sounds like a plan,” Sonny agreed. They finished their coffees and headed out into the night. The walk back passed quickly, and Seth discovered he didn’t have to stretch to make small talk. Chatting with Sonny came naturally, and Seth felt a little sad to find them in front of Treddy’s so quickly.

“See you tomorrow?” Sonny dared to stretch up to brush a quick kiss over Seth’s lips. He had pulled away before Seth collected his wits enough to think about kissing back.

“Definitely,” Seth replied, hoping he didn’t sound twitterpated after the surprise of the kiss. Sonny shot him a wink and disappeared inside, and it took Seth another minute to realize he needed to move away from the door.

Sonny’s kiss went through him like a bolt of lightning right to his balls. Seth turned away from the doorway and tried to subtly adjust himself. The Hayabusa sat right where he had parked it, but Seth paused to think about his grocery list and what was in his laundry basket so that he didn’t have to ride home with a hard-on.

Back at the campground, Seth let himself into the trailer, surprised at how disappointed he felt. When he’d gone to Treddy’s, he’d expected to have a beer, chat up the bartender and some regulars about Malone, and make an early night of it. Now he felt a little cheated—and frustrated. Seth fished a beer out of the fridge and sat at his laptop.

His phone chirped as he waited for the laptop to power up, and for a moment, he found himself hoping Sonny had decided to text him. He’d already added Sonny to his contacts. Instead, “Luis” came up, and Seth resigned himself to talking shop.

“Hey, Luis. What’s up?”

“Hey, yourself. I couldn’t turn up anything on that warlock in Richmond you’re chasing, but I did get some hits on the one in Pittsburgh. Noah and I were over that way last week chasing a pack of shifters, and I had the chance to dig around while we were there.”

“Thanks,” Seth replied, trying to get his head back into the game. “Your hunt go all right?”

“We’re alive, and the shifters aren’t, so I guess that’s a win. Normally, I’d be ‘live and let live,’ you know? But this pack had gone gangland, and they’d already killed three cops. So Noah and I took care of it.” He paused. “I got banged around plenty, but Noah got clawed in the leg, so we’re holed up until that heals.”

“That sucks, man. But I’m glad you’re mostly okay.” Luis and Noah were friends of Toby’s, some of the first hunters Seth had met. Since then, he’d gotten to know several other teams, either people he happened upon in the field or friends of friends. He hadn’t found it unusual that many hunters worked in teams, but the number of those teams that were more than just work partners did give him pause. Then again, hunting was a lonely job, and “civilians” didn’t understand. Some of the hunters he’d heard about had a home base and kept to a radius. Many of them traveled like he did, from job to job. Seth supposed that hunting solo was the perfect gig for natural loners. If he were honest with himself, Seth had to admit he was a little jealous of guys like Luis and Toby, who’d found partners in every sense of the word.

“You get any leads on the Richmond warlock?” Luis asked. “Noah and I aren’t too far away—if you want back-up.”

Seth knew Toby’s opinion of him going after Gremory’s disciple by himself. His mentor had waxed obscenely creative in telling him just how foolhardy he thought it was for Seth to go up against the warlock solo. But Seth also knew that neither Luis nor Noah had any magic of their own, and so he didn’t want to be responsible for getting anyone else hurt.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll be okay. I appreciate it, though. And if I can help you out, just call.”

“We’re near Cleveland if you change your mind. Got a line on a couple of vengeful ghosts to put down once Noah’s healed up. But we could be in Richmond overnight if we hauled ass.”

“Go gank those ghosts,” Seth replied. “I’ve got this. Thanks for the intel. Anything you turn up on the witch-disciples, shoot my way. And let me know how to return the favor.”

“Sure thing,” Luis replied. “Watch your back.”

Seth hung up, and somehow the trailer felt emptier than usual. He turned on some music and pulled out a file on Corson Valac, Gremory’s disciple who had made Richmond his home. But as he slogged through the information, he found his focus had gone to s***. His mind wandered, wondering how Sonny’s evening was going.

Did Sonny make a habit of picking up dates at the bar? Seth wanted to think their connection had been special, but a guy who looked like Sonny would have his pick of partners, and Treddy’s probably turned into a meat market late night. He hoped that Sonny had been telling the truth about meeting up with him tomorrow.

But was he going back tomorrow? After all, he only had four days until Halloween, when Valac was likely to make a move against Malone, and Seth still didn’t know what either Malone or Valac looked like, or where to find them. Maybe the whole thing with Sonny was a bad idea, a diversion he couldn’t afford when Malone’s life was on the line.

Then again, Sonny might be a good ally, someone who could lead him to Malone and who knew the area. And if he spent the day chasing down leads, trying to uncover Valac’s current identity and getting his bearings, surely he could spare a few hours in the evening? Does it count as interrogating a witness if I’m giving him a hand job while I ask the questions?

By one a.m., Seth finally gave up on research, pitched the beer bottle, and headed for bed. And if he jacked himself off to thoughts about a certain dark-haired bartender, Seth figured that was his dirty little secret.

Buy Links

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Nook 

About the Author 

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

Morgan Brice will be a Supporting Author at the Gay Romantic Lit convention and a Hosting Author at RomCon in October.

Social Media Links

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Facebook Group -The Worlds of Morgan Brice 

Twitter @MorganBriceBook

Pinterest: See the Morgan Brice board 

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New Book Release Blog Tour: THE NECROMANCER’S RECKONING (THE BEACON HILL SORCERER #3) by S.J. HIMES (excerpt and giveaway)

 The Necromancers Reckoning Tour Banner

THE NECROMANCER’S RECKONING

THE BEACON HILL SORCERER, BOOK 3

S.J. HIMES

GAY URBAN FANTASY ROMANCE

RELEASE DATE: 05.27.18

Necromancers Reckoning 

AMAZON US

AMAZON UK

 

COVER DESIGN: Kellie Dennis of Book Cover by Design

 

BLURB

Every action has consequences.

For a decade, Angel Salvatore has been the most powerful sorcerer and only necromancer in all the Northeast. Never one to ask permission nor apologies, he has acted with near impunity for years.

Until now.

The High Council of Sorcery has come to Boston, and Angel is their target. Charged with numerous violations of practitioner laws, his freedom and family are placed in jeopardy.

If found guilty, Angel’s apprentice Daniel will be imprisoned to serve out the remaining years of his apprenticeship. Isaac, his brother, is too vulnerable to be left unguarded, and Angel fears for his sanity and health. And Simeon, Elder vampire and Angel’s mate refuses to see Angel convicted under the laws of the Council and his actions to keep Angel free threaten to start a war that could destroy their world. And Angel faces the severest of punishments—the castration of his gifts.

The Council has never cared for the people of Boston, and Angel doubts their motives. They have come for some insidious reason, and it has nothing to do with upholding the law and everything to do with Angel.

Dealing with an impending trial, a wayward ghost, and a grave robbing ring of thieves leaves Angel on the edge. He thinks he may have a handle on things until violence erupts across the city, and a stranger comes to town…a stranger with his own dark powers of necromancy.

This is book 3 of a series, and the previous books should be read first for full enjoyment. Trigger Warnings are on the Copyright Page and can be seen using the Look Inside feature or by downloading a sample of this book.

 

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EXCERPT

“What do you mean, I got a letter?” Angel held his smartphone between his ear and shoulder, fumbling with the keys to his office. It was still dark, and he huffed with impatience, blinking a small orb of hellfire into existence over his hands so he could find the right key. Inserting it into the lock, he opened the door and dismissed the orb, flicking the light switch by the door.

“It was delivered by courier about ten minutes ago,” Daniel replied, his apprentice talking past food. “I had to sign for it. The courier almost didn’t leave it with me until I told him I was your apprentice.”

Angel grumbled to himself, tossing his keys on his desk and grabbing his phone, rubbing the back of his neck. He left his apartment not even ten minutes before, which was only a couple blocks away, so the courier must have shown up right as he was leaving. He frowned, thinking back to the pre-dawn street, and he didn’t recall seeing anyone—not even a car or taxi.

“Well, go ahead and open it,” Angel said, tapping his phone to put it on speaker. Daniel made a happy sound past whatever he was chewing, and Angel snorted out a laugh. He booted up his laptop, looking for the appointment he had that morning at the ass-crack of dawn. Why in the world he thought it would be a good idea to have a private consultation so damn early on a Monday was beyond him. Which was why he decided on waking up everyone he lived with so he could share the misery. Though it was only Daniel since Isaac was at Nevermore and Simeon was at the Tower.

A sharp yelp and swearing came out from the speakers, and Angel laughed. “Papercut?”

“No! It shocked me!” Daniel gasped out, cussing under his breath. “I can’t open it!”

“What do you mean you can’t open it? Just rip it open.”

“I’m trying! Ouch!” Daniel yelped again, and the sounds coming from over the phone were parts hilarious and alarming. “I’m not risking my fingers. You can open it.”

“Who is it from? It might be warded if a courier brought it.”

“Now you tell me,” Daniel muttered, and Angel grinned as he found the appointment time. Daniel was finding his courage and picking up sass lessons from Isaac. His shy apprentice was learning all about sarcasm in the Salvatore household. His appointment was in about five minutes. No time to run back home and get the letter that was singeing his apprentice’s fingers. Daniel recited the address on the letter, “It says, ‘To Angelus Raine Salvatore, Necromancer of Beacon Hill, Boston, Massachusetts. From’…Oh, wow.”

“Who’s it from?”

“The High Council of Sorcery, Bucharest, Romania.”

Angel stood up straight, hands falling away from his laptop. He stared at the phone, the quiet in his office somehow loud, heart pounding in his ears. He looked up at the door as if any second one of the Council enforcers would blast through the doorway, ready to take him into custody for crimes sundry against international sorcery laws. He breathed in, breath shaky, and flexed his fingers. He reached out with his mind, cautiously testing the wards around his office, and there was nothing.

“Angel? Angel!” Daniel squawked over the phone, and Angel snapped free of the tension that held him frozen and snatched up the phone.

“Daniel, my appointment is any minute. Can you bring the letter here? Just hang out in the main room until I’m done if we’ve started when you get here. Wake up Eroch and have him come with you.”

“Um, okay…wake up the fire-breathing lizard, he says.”

“Just pick him up and carry him with you if he doesn’t wake up. He was sleeping on my pillow when I left. Don’t walk over here alone. I’d say hold on to it until I get home, but I have a feeling I need to read that letter as soon as possible.”

“Okay. Can I take a shower first?”

“You better,” Angel chuckled and hung up. Twenty-year-old men needed showers for the sake of everyone.

A knock sounded from the front of the office, and Angel took a deep breath, calming his off-center nerves before heading to answer the door. He was still cautious, sending out his awareness, his wards humming in the recesses of his mind, unmolested. There were two people on the small landing outside his door, their auras muffled by the panel, but they were both practitioners.

Angel opened the door, a polite smile on his face.

“Angelus Salvatore?” asked a tall, bulky man in a dark coat, his face set to glower. Angel lifted a brow, unable to see the person behind the big man. He could see a flash of red hair and a small bit of alabaster skin before the big guy shifted.

“I am,” Angel replied, opening the door wider, stepping back and gesturing them inside. His wards were set to allow strangers inside, but they would dampen any magic cast in this space by strangers or those he blocked. Came in handy when dealing with young sorcerers and unexpected guests. They could still cast, but his magic permeated the space, claiming even the ambient magical energies and stifling spells cast by interlopers. Not much use against a practitioner who used their own reserves, but the more dangerous, higher-ranked practitioners tended to reach outside themselves first before casting.

A tall woman was behind the big guy, slim and covered head to toe in black, from her leather high-heeled boots and ankle-length black pea coat to her black silk scarf and a jaunty, tiny pillbox hat atop titian curls. She was familiar, but the shadows were still dark enough Angel was having difficulty determining her identity. He led them back to his office, gesturing at the chairs in front of his desk. The woman sat, unwinding her scarf, her escort taking a stance beside the office door. Angel turned on the lamps as dawn was taking its time arriving and the room had shadows in inconvenient places.

The woman removed her scarf, putting it on her lap before shrugging from her coat. Her escort stepped forward, taking it from her before returning to his spot by the door. The woman, dressed in a thin black wraparound dress that hugged every slim curve and long line of her body, smiled at Angel. She was pretty, in a very human way, nothing of the fae about her in face or form. Dark green eyes, nothing at all like the brilliant emerald of Simeon’s eyes but arresting enough in their own merits, gazed back at him, glistening with wry humor.

“Lady Kensington,” Angel acknowledged after a moment’s pause, surprised. The recent widow was a wizard and a skilled apothecary who owned and ran Nightshade Apothecary not far from where they sat in Beacon Hill. Angel would see her occasionally in the neighborhood or when he needed supplies between scheduled deliveries. Her husband, Lord Greyson Kensington, died of a heart attack three months ago while shoveling snow off the front stoop of their shop one chilly winter morning.

“Call me Heather, please,” she said, voice melodic and rich, smooth as hot chocolate with a shot of whiskey. Her chin rose as if she was expecting argument. What Angel could remember of her husband, the man was a stickler for propriety and demanded to be addressed by his title, even to friends.

Angel never liked the man.

“Heather,” Angel agreed with a grin, surprising her into smiling back at him. “What can I do for you? And why so early? I would’ve come to the shop.”

“I’m afraid this matter requires a measure of discretion,” Lady Heather replied, twisting her scarf in her fingers. “It’s regarding my late husband.”

Angel paused, thinking. Usually when the recently bereaved came to his door, they wanted either the impossible, like a resurrection, or more commonly, a summoning of the departed spirit. He rarely acquiesced as nothing good could come from repeatedly dialing in to the Other Side. It kept the living from moving on and tormented the souls he would be recalling to this plane.

She must have seen some of these thoughts on his face, as she held up a dainty hand, forestalling his coming denial. “I don’t want you to summon him from the Other Side,” she said, tears gathering on her lashes. Angel waited, curious despite himself. “I want you to find him for me.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not following,” Angel said warily, hoping she didn’t cry. Isaac or Daniel breaking down he hated but knew what to do, a near stranger crying left him awkward.

“The shop was broken into three nights ago,” Lady Heather said quickly, words tumbling over themselves as she hurried to explain. “I heard the commotion from my apartment upstairs, but by the time the police arrived, it was too late.”

“What did they steal?” Angel was trying to follow along, he really was, but he had no idea what a burglary would have to do with her deceased husband.

“They stole him,” Lady Heather said, digging out a handkerchief from her tiny black purse. She dabbed at her eyes, miraculously not smearing her mascara.

Angel frowned. “I’m going to need you to spell this out for me.”

“The thieves stole Greyson’s ghost. I need you to find him.”

reckoning 2

AMAZON US – THE BEACON HILL SORCERER SERIES

AMAZON UK – THE BEACON HILL SORCERER SERIES

SJ Himes Logo

I’m a self-employed writer who stresses out about the silliest things, like whether or not I got my dog the best kind of snack and the fact my kindle battery tends to die when I’m at the best part in a book. I write mainly gay romance, erotica, and urban fantasy, with occasional forays into contemporary and paranormal. I love a book heavy on plot and character evolution, and throw in some magic, and that’s perfection. My current series are: The Beacon Hill Sorcerer, Bred For Love (as Revella Hawthorne), The Wolfkin Saga, and the epic fantasy romance series Realms of Love. My last two novels in the Beacon Hill Sorcerer won 3rd Place in the Gay Fantasy category for the 2016 Rainbow Awards.

I live in New Orleans, where the personalities are big and loud and so are the bugs! New Orleans is rich in cultural history, and the flavor and music of the City is impossible to hide. Before that, I lived all over the United States: Tampa, Western Massachusetts, Indianapolis, and on and on…. I’m a nomad, and I’ve yet to find a place that calls to me strongly enough to become home. My faithful travel companions are my dog Micah, the numerous voices in my head who insist they all get put on paper, and the wind at my back.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SJHimes/

Website: https://www.sjhimes.com/en

 

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RELEASE BLITZ – Professor Hot Pants by Ember-Raine Winters (excerpt and giveaway)

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Book Title: Professor Hot Pants

Author: Ember-Raine Winters

Publisher: Ember-Raine Winters

Cover Artist: Heather Bryant

Genre/s: M/M Student Teacher Taboo

Length: 50 000 words/200 pages

It is a standalone story.

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Blurb

Ryan

My mom always told me that I was better than random hookups but she was a drug addict, what did she know. Sex fulfilled a need in me. I’m not your average college student, but like many students I have one professor I fantasize about. Professor Marks is a great big no-no in the hookup department, so why can’t I stay away?

Philip

I’m a professor of psychology at the University. Being in my position, it was necessary to keep him at a distance. But, he’s slowly becoming an obsession of mine, the sexual tension between us is stifling. Now, we are expected to work together when all I want to do is bend his ass over the table. How will I be able to keep my hands to myself?

Can an unexpected ally bring these two people together and teach them the meaning of family?

Excerpt

I was shocked when he opened it and I got my first good look at him in more than a week. His dark hair was sticking up all over the place, there were bruise-like circles under his eyes, and it looked as though he’d lost ten pounds. He looked like hell.

“Professor Marks? Uh, what’re you doing here?” He eyed me warily, as he probably should, since showing up at his dorm room was unprofessional at best, stalkerish at worst.

I cleared my throat. If I was going to do this, I’d come off as professional and courteous as possible. “I haven’t seen you in class in over a week.” Looking down at him, I confessed, “Sissy told me what happened. I’m here to talk.”

“I’m fine. I don’t need to talk.” He started to close the door but my hand shot out and grabbed it.

“Sissy is worried about you,” I said softly, trying to conceal the hope in my eyes at wanting him to confide in me. “I can be a really great listener.” He paused, then nodded his head and opened the door wider to allow me entry.

“I don’t know why she worries. It’s not like I’m going to do anything to hurt myself. I’m just grieving. My mom was the only family I had, well, I have my half-sister, but she has her own life and we were never super close.” He kicked some clothes out of the way and sat down on his bed, leaning up against the cement block wall that was covered in posters. “My sister was raised by her grandma and she’s seven years older than me. Mom always felt bad about them taking Court away, so she did everything in her power to make sure the same didn’t happen to me.”

He twisted around, dropping his feet to the floor buried his face in his hands as quiet sobs racked his body. I dragged the desk chair over to where he was sitting and sat down next to him by the edge of the bed. Our knees brushed briefly and I sucked in a lungful of air before moving back a fraction. My hand came down on his knee and I squeezed. “It’s good to grieve for your loss, but would your mom want you to sit here alone, wallowing in that grief?” He looked up at me with red rimmed eyes. “Absolutely not. She’d want you to live. I’m aware of your scholarship, if your grades slip they could take that from you, Ryan.”

“Yeah,” he said attempting to take a few deep breaths and pull himself together. “It just hurts so fucking bad knowing that I wasn’t enough of a reason for her to get herself clean. I know it was a disease taking her life, but honestly, I don’t give a fuck about that at the moment.” His anger was palpable and well deserved, but it’d been a week of him holing himself up in this room alone, suffering alone.

“I know this sounds contrite, and while this is painful, it will get easier. As you progress through your degree—and you will, Ryan, make no mistake—you’ll understand more of the anatomy of an alcoholic and drug addict. It may not be of comfort to you now, but eventually you’ll learn to forgive her.”

Anger flashed in his eyes as he jumped off the bed, pushing me back, and screamed the most guttural heartbreaking sound I’d ever heard in my life.

“I don’t want to forgive her! She left me. That’s the one thing she always promised she wouldn’t do.” He slammed his hand down on his desk. The container full of pencils fell over scattering across the floor. “I did everything for her. I work two jobs so she has a place to stay and a phone to call me. I put food in her fridge every week. Yet, she couldn’t even keep the one promise she made to me.” His hands were braced on the desk, his head slumped forward, and I couldn’t hold myself back anymore. I walked over and wrapped my arms around him; it was like the dam burst inside of him. He turned around, then buried his face in the crook of my neck as loud racking sobs tore through his body.

I knew what I’d said was the truth about him eventually forgiving her, but he was still so raw there was no way he’d be able to accept anything until he passed through the overwhelming sadness and anger. “Shhh, it’s okay, I’m here. I’m not judging you, Ryan. If you need to cry, do it. If you need to get angry and throw things, I’ll sit quietly and watch that you don’t hurt yourself. The one thing you aren’t is alone.” I rubbed his back soothingly before I realized what I was doing. Ryan must have gotten the same weird tension because he sniffled before taking a step back.

“Thank y-you,” he stammered. “I’m okay now.”

“Right.” I cleared my throat, shifting from foot to foot, taking a step back from him, now completely uncomfortable with the tension radiating from him. “I, uh, brought the work you missed the last week.” Walking back over to the front door, I grabbed my satchel and dug around for the packet of papers I’d printed for him. He took a few hesitant steps forward and our fingers brushed as I handed him the assignment. A spark of electricity sizzled up my arm and I drew my arm back quickly.

“I’ll be in class Monday with all of this done.” His eyes refused to meet mine.

“My personal cell number is on that card in case you need to talk.”

“Is that… allowed?” He finally looked up.

“Look, Ryan, I’m just a professor making sure that a student is okay. It’s my responsibility, not only as a teacher here, but knowing what had happened, it’s the right thing to do.” I shrugged casually.

“None of my other professors have come to my dorm offering to talk or leaving me their phone numbers.” He pointed out with a lifted eyebrow.

“Look, use the number, or don’t. I don’t really care. I was just offering my help if you need it.” So what if I was a bit righteous in defending myself? He was acting as though I had ulterior motives—and as much as there was something about him, the person before me was in pain, and I’d never cross that line of causing someone more.  

“Are you sure that’s all it is, Professor Marks?” Ryan took an aggressive step toward me, his hands balled into fists at his sides, crumpling the papers I gave him.

My jaw clenched tight as I ground out, “Positive, I’ll see you in class on Monday, Ryan,” then I hightailed it out the door, Ryan’s soft chuckle following me.

Shit. What was I thinking going in there?

About the Author

Ember-Raine Winters lives in sunny California with her two beautiful kids and a wolf. Also known as Apache her pure white Siberian Husky. She loves writing romance and reading just about anything she can get her hands on. And, football! She loves watching football and going to games. It’s one of her favorite ways to unwind. She dislikes the super-hot temperatures in her city and exercise. She hates to exercise but somehow her sister still gets her to do it every day. She also thinks it’s completely awkward talking about herself in third person. Ember loves connecting with readers so don’t be afraid to stalk her and drop her a line on social media.

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A MelanieM Audiobook Review: Off the Ice (Hat Trick #1) by Avon Gale and Piper Vaughn/Kirt Graves (Narrator

Rating: 4 stars out of 5

Tristan Holt is nothing if not pragmatic. Despite a flourishing career as a defenseman for the Atlanta Venom, Tristan knows he can’t play hockey forever. One day he’ll retire – if an injury doesn’t force him to hang up his skates first. His backup plan? Finishing his business degree. But he doesn’t count on a very inappropriate attraction to his standoffish sociology professor, Sebastian Cruz.

Sebastian is on the bottom rung of the sociology department at Georgia State. He has his sights set on tenure, and he can’t afford to be distracted, especially not by a sexy student with a body straight out of Sebastian’s dreams. No matter how much Tristan tempts him, that’s one line Sebastian won’t cross. At least, not until summer classes end. After that, everything is fair game.

But Sebastian lives loud and proud, and Tristan is terrified of being the first out player in the NHL. Neither of them can afford to risk his heart when they can’t imagine a happily ever after. The problem is, unlike hockey, when it comes to love, there are no rules.

Any hockey romance is an autoread or listen for me.  I just can’t help myself, especially so one by author Avon Gale.  So I was really looking forward to listening to the new audiobook, Off the Ice (Hat Trick #1) by Avon Gale and Piper Vaughn as narrated by Kirt Graves.

The first in a new series, I’m hoping it follows others in the Atlanta Venom team because several come across just as layered and interested as Tristan.  Tristan actually is my favorite character here, thoughtful, big hearted, intelligent, and sexy.  What’s not to love?  In comparison, professor Sebastian, who is older, comes off as judgmental, temperamental, and not as easy to connect with.  Oh, yes, and he’s a bit of a Dom.  Not that he’s not believable, Sebastian is, its just that he’s not so easy to like at first.

It’s lust at first sight, the liking comes later.  For both the characters and the reader.  At least for me.

As always, the hockey element is amazing.  From the interplay on ice to the team dynamics, the  game comes live and the love for all aspects of hockey is something that you can just feel as an active ingredient in this wonderful story.  It’s the foundation, framework, and spice that adds energy to everything that happens here.

The characters are so solid that even the supporting secondary cast feel just as noteworthy as Tristan and Sebastian.  You want to know more about each and every person you come in contact with and hope that new stories that arrive happen to bring these people further under the microscope.

I loved the romance, as stressful and argumentative as it got at times.  The authors made it, well, if not easy, then each characters perspective accessible.  Together the men are hot and sexy, the D/s was something they were exploring together as Tristan was new to the idea of a submissive role.  The heat factor here?  Off the charts.

Kirt Graves handled all of the roles and voices beautifully, no matter the gender.  It was easy to differentiate each character, and he made the story flow quickly.  I will definitely seek out more stories narrated by him.

Now I can’t wait for the next in the series.  Doesn’t matter whether it is the eBook or audiobook version.  I may want both.

In the meantime, I highly recommend this audiobook version for all lovers of contemporary romance with a hockey base.

 

Cover art is perfect.  Love the bench and the player with his skates.

Sales Links:    Audible

Audiobook Details:

Listening Length: 7 hours and 53 minutes

Audible Audio, 8 pages
Published May 15th 2018 by Riptide Publishing (first published October 30th 2017)
ASINB07D2JH1XZ
Edition LanguageEnglish
SeriesHat Trick #1
CharactersTristan Holt, Sebastian Cruz, Ryu Mori, Trevor Morley, Daniel Bellamy settingAtlanta, Georgia (United States)