Category: LGBTQ Book Reviews

A MelanieM Review: Lessons for Sleeping Dogs (Cambridge Fellows #12) by Charlie Cochrane

Rating: 4.5 stars out of 5

Cambridge, 1921

LessonsForSleepingDogs_600x900When amateur sleuth Jonty Stewart comes home with a new case to investigate, his partner Orlando Coppersmith always feels his day has been made. Although, can there be anything to solve in the apparent mercy killing of a disabled man by a doctor who then kills himself, especially when everything takes place in a locked room?

But things are never straightforward where the Cambridge fellows are concerned, so when they discover that more than one person has a motive to kill the dead men—motives linked to another double death—their wits get stretched to the breaking point.

And when the case disinters long buried memories for Jonty, memories about a promise he made and hasn’t kept, their emotions get pulled apart as well. This time, Jonty and Orlando will have to separate fact from fiction—and truth from emotion—to get to the bottom of things.

I am always thrilled to find that Jonty Stewart and Orlando Coppersmith have returned for another mystery and here they are back in Charlie Cochrane’s Lessons for Sleeping Dogs better than ever.

With the last few stories we have been flip flopping back and forth along the time line as laid out in the novels released to date.  Lessons for Sleeping Dogs now moves that time line forward once more another year.  The men are older, their relationship more established and yet,  their love for each other has never been so deep and committed as the one we see here.  Orlando and Jonty are starting to think past their time at St. Bride’s, perhaps even into retirement age, a startling thought considering we first met them 16 years ago when their world was far more innocent (at least on the surface) and WWI was not even a faint grumbling politically.

Charlie Cochrane is easing her Fellows into the aging process with a smoothness most would envy.  Its acknowledged, through a gentle gesture or wry remark,  a memory to those so sorely missed, lost to war or old age, and then the story moves on as it should.  Its a lovely realistic touch and its inclusion makes me appreciate this author even more.

Oh the mysteries, yes, more than one.  I think this must be the most convoluted of them yet.  Shades of Sherlock Holmes!  There is an echo of an earlier story but you don’t have to have read that to get the gist of it here.  Most of that backstory is included.  There are several mysteries ongoing at several levels of importance, or so you think.  I loved them of course, but I thought that too many puzzles almost took away from the main murder mystery.  I get what Charlie was after, but this was a lot to juggle and it was hard for the reader to keep track of all of the facts, places and people while still dealing with the many emotional scenes and fallout for Jonty and Orlando.  This aspect of  Lessons for Sleeping Dogs kept it from a perfect 5 star rating, but oh it was so close.

There is so much darkness here.  The aftermath of WWI lingers on in the broken minds and bodies of the soldiers who returned, included Orlando and Jonty.  The bleakness and pain of their childhood must also be dealt with once again as parts of their case brings their memories surging back to overwhelm them.  Their past histories are  alluded to here but this remains another definite reason why theses stories should be read in order (in my opinion). You can only get the full impact of what happened to them in those previous novels not here.  Jonty and Orlando have so many issues to deal with, and they must do it using their hearts, their intelligence and their trust in each other.    What a outstanding story to have Jonty and Orlando make their reappearance!

Yes, it all works out.  We get to see some of our favorite secondary characters and Hyacinth Cottage.  I absolutely loved it.  What’s next for Jonty and Orlando?  It’s anyone’s guess and only Charlie Cochrane knows for sure.    But one thing is for certain, I will be there, waiting in line, to pick up the story and see what happens next and hoping that the author won’t tear my heart out.

I highly recommend this story and all the novels in the Cambridge Fellows Mysteries.  I have them all listed for you below.  Don’t miss out on any of them.

Cover artist:  Lou Harper.  I love these  new covers.  They are my favorite covers so  far for the series.

Sales Links:  Riptide Publishing | All Romance (ARe) | Amazon | Buy It Here

Book Details:

ebook, 243 pages
Expected publication: October 12th 2015 by Riptide Publishing

 

 

 

Join Charlie Cochrane as She Talks “Gary Stu” and “Lessons for Sleeping Dogs” (guest post and contest)

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Lessons for Sleeping Dogs (Cambridge Fellows #12)
by Charlie Cochrane
Publisher:  Riptide Publishing
Cover Artist: Lou Harper
Buy it here at Riptide

I have long been a fan of author Charlie Cochrane and this amazing series.  Set in historical England, her readers have followed Jonty Stewart  and Orlando Coppersmith from the moment at the dining table at St. Bride’s College where they first met through times filled with confounding puzzles, multiple murderers, an ever deepening relationship that could see them to the gallows if discovered, and hidden darknesses in both men’s backgrounds that comes back to haunt them time and again.  And all brilliantly staged in Cambridge  and various locations throughout England, starting in 1905, through the tumultuous war years to 1921 where this story takes place.

 One of the many elements that keeps me and so many other readers returning is that  Charlie Cochrane’s ability to place us directly onto the cobblestone walkways and dirt paths that Jonty and Orlando are trodding.  We feel as though we are there with them, and historical Cambridge is as real to us as it would be to our Cambridge Dons.  That’s quite a gift.  Now I find maybe because its author feels herself walking there too.  Hmmm.  Let’s hear it from  Charlie herself.

Anyone for self-insertion in their own books?

By Charlie Cochrane

Authors writing themselves into their works is nothing new. Many people reading St. Mark’s gospel think the young man who slipped out of his linen clothes to elude his captors and ran away naked from the garden of Gethsemane was the Apostle Mark himself. And, in “As You Like It”, there’s a slightly dim-witted countryman called William who seems to have no real purpose in the play except to be a figure of fun – is this the Bard making game of himself?

I’m not necessarily talking Mary Sues here, although some self-inserted characters come perilously close. I find the wikipedia description of these women – or  their male equivalent, the Gary Stu – useful, that they’re “primarily functioning as wish-fulfillment fantasies for their authors”. Many of the author appearances make the feet of clay all too apparent and so wouldn’t fit into this category.

Autobiographically inspired novels clearly portray the writer and his/her friends, foibles and all, to some extent or other. Sal Paradise in “On the Road” is Jack Kerouac, Jeannette in “Oranges are not the Only Fruit” is Jeannette Winterson and Philip Carey in “Of Human Bondage” may be Somerset Maugham, more or less.

Sometimes, though, the reader sees what he or she wants. E M Forster insisted that Maurice Hall wasn’t him, although the similarities in appearance, Cambridge background and sexual awakening by a man from the lower classes has made fans of “Maurice” wonder whether that’s true. Harriet Vane is evidently based on Dorothy L Sayers – similar educational background, similar unhappy love affair – although she possesses too many faults to be a Mary Sue. Except in one thing; Sayers was infatuated with Eric Whelpton (one of the models for Peter Wimsey), but to no avail. Could Harriet’s happy ending with Peter have been a bit of wish-fulfillment?

Certainly the wish-fulfillment element looms large in the case of some authors of fanfic. In Age of Sail stories, there’ll be a young woman who’s beautiful, talented, clever, witty; a right pain in the bum, to put it bluntly. She’s the best shot on the ship and can probably outdo the officers at swordplay. She might even be in disguise as a man, some very capable second lieutenant, and nobody’s twigged yet.

Talking of Age of Sail, Dr. Maturin in the Jack Aubrey series fascinates me, as does his creator, Patrick O’Brian. It would be easy to overegg the pudding discussing similarities between the two – secrecy, dissimulation about background, a daughter with special needs – but the fact remains that Maturin at times feels like a Gary Stu, despite his faults. Brilliant shot, wonderful espionage agent, a bit of a super hero (he takes a bullet out of his own abdomen and survives torture, storms, abandonment on a scorching hot island, a night on a freezing cold mountain, etc). I can’t help wondering if O’Brian was using Maturin in part to be what he’d wished to be, (or pretended he’d been) including a spy, an Irishman and a wonderful father to his disabled child.

Self inserted characters exist today. There’s a lady in my Cambridge Fellows books, including the latest, Lessons for Sleeping Dogs, who bears more than a passing resemblance to me in terms of her appearance, interests and maternal outlook. Of course, with that in mind, the tendency is when I’m reading something to try to spot a character who might just be the author in disguise. I daren’t say anything because of the risk of a suit for libel, but might that beautiful lady in the latest book by xxxx really be her indulging in wish fulfilment and can that ridiculously sexy man, the one all the blokes fawn over truly be yyyyy? And will you share your favourite ‘self-inserted’ characters in the comments?

Blurb

Cambridge, 1921

When amateur sleuth Jonty Stewart comes home with a new case to investigate, his partner Orlando Coppersmith always feels his day has been made. Although, can there be anything to solve in the apparent mercy killing of a disabled man by a doctor who then kills himself, especially when everything takes place in a locked room?

But things are never straightforward where the Cambridge fellows are concerned, so when they discover that more than one person has a motive to kill the dead men—motives linked to another double death—their wits get stretched to the breaking point.

And when the case disinters long buried memories for Jonty, memories about a promise he made and hasn’t kept, their emotions get pulled apart as well. This time, Jonty and Orlando will have to separate fact from fiction—and truth from emotion—to get to the bottom of things.

About The Author

As Charlie Cochrane couldn’t be trusted to do any of her jobs of choice—like managing a rugby team—she writes, with titles published by Carina, Samhain, Bold Strokes, MLR and Cheyenne.

Charlie’s Cambridge Fellows Series of Edwardian romantic mysteries was instrumental in her being named Author of the Year 2009 by the review site Speak Its Name. She’s a member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association, Mystery People, International Thriller Writers Inc and is on the organising team for UK Meet for readers/writers of GLBT fiction. She regularly appears with The Deadly Dames.

Connect with Charlie:

LessonsSleepingDogs_TourBanner

Giveaway

Every comment on this blog tour enters you in a drawing for your choice of an a ebook from Charlie Cochrane’s backlist (excluding Lessons for Sleeping Dogs.) Entries close at midnight, Eastern time, on October 17, 2015. Contest is NOT restricted to U.S. entries. Don’t forget to add your contact information so we can reach you if you win!  Must be 18 years of age or older to enter.  

Cambridge Fellows Mysteries

CambridgeFellows_Series_0 (1)

If the men of St. Bride’s College knew what Jonty Stewart and Orlando Coppersmith got up to behind closed doors, the scandal would rock early-20th-century Cambridge to its core. But the truth is, when they’re not busy teaching literature and mathematics, the most daring thing about them isn’t their love for each other—it’s their hobby of amateur sleuthing.

[The Last books starting with #9 are available from Riptide Publishing]

 

Hit the Road Running with A Lone Stranger (The Bent Zealots MC #3) by Layla Wolfe (excerpt and giveaway)

LONE new cover

A Lone Stranger (The Bent Zealots MC #3) by Layla Wolfe
Release Date: October 12, 2015

Goodreads Link
Publisher: Quicksilver Books
Cover Artist: Jan Bowles

Buy It at Amazon

Banner300x250

Blurb

Ride on. Ride on.

HARTE: After a world-altering run-in with the guy I thought was my father, I went on the road to find myself. I patched over to The Bent Zealots MC, an out-and-proud club on the Colorado River. A cock virgin, I raced to experience all I could, eagerly sniffing every nook and cranny, a whole new existence offered up by Grindr. But when Ormond Tangier was assaulted by a rival club, I quickly got down to brass tacks, to show my new brothers I was all business.

Too bad that business involves Bond Blackburn, jailbird brother of our Prez, Turk. That guy is so far in denial he’s practically Egyptian. But he even he can’t deny what I saw with my own eyes at the gay club. Sure, I was on my knees paying homage to a Daddy Dom, but Bond can’t pretend he wasn’t getting some oral praise as well. And now they’re telling me I have to work with this hypocrite?

BOND: This club is a fucking joke. How’s a man supposed to make a new start after the joint? First, my own brother forced me to prospect. I couldn’t automatically rise to the top of the heap through my family connections. No, I’m supposed to labor in a noxious sweatshop making product for their pot dispensary. And I have to sneak downtown if I want to get some halfway decent head, because I don’t even want my gay so-called brothers knowing about my shameful hobby.

Now we’re reaching out to the cops to even the score with those Hellfire Nuts who abused Ormond. And that delicious Harte Saxonberg is getting my goat, so by the book, such bleeding heart. I just want to strangle him—or fuck him.

HARTE: I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place, one that slab of a man, Bond Blackburn. He kisses me, then punches me. Fucks me, then ignores me. He’s got me so upside-down I’ve lost the clarity I had a week ago when I rode west. Ride west, young man. I could be a steam train if I could just lay down my tracks. But the only name I’m calling out is that sexy convict’s.

Ride on. Ride on.

Publisher’s warning: This book is not for the faint of heart. It contains scenes of gay sex,  consensual BDSM, illegal doings, vaguely legal marijuana operations, and violence against men. There is no cheating or cliffhangers, and HEAs for all.

 

Pages or Words: 62,000 words
 Categories: Fiction, Gay Fiction, M/M Romance, Romance

Excerpt

“Stupid kids,” was all Bond would say. “Fucking spring break.”

“You never got a chance to go to college,” I said, tentatively. I thought we’d started a good conversation the day before at Ormond’s. We could certainly continue along that tack. Bond didn’t seem to be aware that Turk had had an equally lousy childhood as he had. He seemed to think Turk was rolling with some kind of sudsy reality family where Jim Bob Duggar would dispense with fatherly advice about dental cavities and wet dreams. He somehow seemed to have gathered this vision of Turk’s adoptive home as a heavenly, squeaky clean TV set, not the lousy, dirty Party Central that it was. “But Turk didn’t, either, and he was the smartest of the bunch of us, growing up. He didn’t have the best home life, Bond. I don’t know where you get your impression of Cropper Illuminati, but Turk wasn’t playing board games and roller skating. He had it rough.”

“Sure,” snorted Bond. “Cropper docked his allowance if he didn’t eat his broccoli.”

“I doubt they ever had broccoli.” I was starting to lose patience with this man. “I doubt they even knew what a fucking board game was, Bond. That house was just as bad, if not more so, than any of your group homes. You probably played Life or Trivial Pursuit a couple of times.”

“A couple of times, maybe,” Bond grudgingly admitted. “I knew what they were.”

“Well Cropper had Turk and Ford stealing Walkmans from Radio Shack when they were ten. He was handing them hits of four-way Windowpane as rewards. Before he started Illuminati Trucking, they slept with buckets around their beds because no one could afford a new roof. They rarely even made it to school, and luckily both got their GEDs because they kept up with book learning on their own. He had them selling weed to seventh graders—their own friends! Did you know that?”

“I didn’t know squat,” Bond said, somewhat angrily. “I only saw Turk twice before yesterday. He never tried to contact me.”

“Because he didn’t know where you were! I distinctly recall about five years ago, I asked him about you, where you were. He said he didn’t fucking know, but he’d really like to fucking know.”

“He could have fucking asked! He could have fucking asked the child placement agency where I went!”

I was so livid by that time I was nearly driving on the shoulder. The sun blared high above the treeless desert, and the trailer park we were passing made it even more desolate. My hands clenched the wheel. Now I was the one white-knuckling it. “He did! He said after the last group home let you go when you were seventeen, everyone lost track. He knew you were in Colorado and that was it. He tried, Bond. He tried. Yet you knew where he was the whole time. The Bum Steer clubhouse in Pure and Easy didn’t move for fifteen, twenty years. They still use it. It’s still a bar and grill.”

“Well, what would I’ve said to him? We had nothing in fucking common. At least he lived with a real family. I lived with a bunch of other kids who’d punch you just for looking sideways at them. A bunch of degenerates. Fake ‘fathers’ visiting your bed at night.”

That last part kind of sailed right over my head. I was like a dog with a bone now, determined to worry it. “You wound up having a lot more in common than you thought, didn’t you?”

“What do you mean? We both like leather? We both ride scoots?”

“No,” I boiled. “You’d both rather smoke dick than cigars.”

Boy, that one, short pause was practically electric with emotion. Bond probably needed that pause to determine whether I’d really said what he thought I’d said. Then I guess he’d decided that yes, I’d really said it, because his hand shot out and bashed the steering wheel so badly I swerved into oncoming traffic.

“That’s it. That’s fucking it. Pull over, you motherfucking scumsucker. Pull over to the side of the road. I’m not riding with the likes of you anymore.”

Luckily there were no oncoming cars and I was able to maneuver the van to the shoulder next to an old-timey diner that was boarded up. I tried to say, “Look. I was just saying it’s interesting that two brothers who’ve been separated most of their adult life turn out to be gay, that’s all,” but Bond was having none of that shit.

He yanked on the door handle so violently I’m surprised he didn’t break it clean off. His look was murderous as well, his chestnut eyes flashing. His left hand grabbed the lapel of my cut. It was an unforgiveable sin to touch another man’s cut. But I felt in the wrong, and I did nothing to stop him. In the rearview side mirror, I saw Twinkletoes pull his white Dyna to the shoulder as well. He’d been riding back door to make sure us neophytes didn’t pull any shit. Like we were now doing.

“Listen, you fucktard. You may think you own this entire gay thing because you just came out after twenty-five years in the closet. Just because you were all over that gay stage owning it like some fairy being ogled by dozens of men with your stupid fucking cock leash. I’m here to tell you. You do not get to decide who does what, when. That’s my business.” And he slammed the hell out of the door, stomping over to the shuttered diner.

I immediately followed. Of course I did. I’d brought up the subject in the wrong way, possibly at the wrong time. But I couldn’t just let him run off next to the Sand and Rock diner.

Twinkletoes, too, was striding toward where Bond had hidden himself in the shadows by the diner’s front door. I held up a hand to tell Twinkletoes “I’ve got this.” I didn’t, really, but what else could I do?

“Listen,” I told the macho parolee, who paced in the shade with his arms folded so tightly his nipple ring was set to blow. “I’m sorry. You’re right. You get to decide when and where you come out. I was just trying to tell you you’re being fucking hypocritical thinking you can live a two-faced life. It’s going to make you unhappy, number one. Believe you me, I did that for years. I didn’t start suspecting I was gay until like my sophomore year in high school—“

Bond grabbed my T-shirt this time. He struck so quickly he was like a copperhead, the way his arm shot out to grab me. I swear my feet were off the ground while he was growling in my face. “You’re damn right it’s not your business. And I want you to fucking forget it ever happened, ‘cause it’s never happening again! As far as you and anyone knows, I’m straight, straight, straight. And the second we get back I’m gonna prove it by pushing up on at least two or three sweetbutts.” He tossed me away like yesterday’s nachos.

That pissed me off. Was he seriously going to pretend he wasn’t gay in the slightest? “What the fuck is that going to solve, Bond? It’s gonna come out eventually, you living in close proximity to other gays. Eventually you’re gonna slip up and someone’s gonna see you doing it with another guy. Believe you me, it happened to me. I was sucking someone’s cock in Flagstaff and my fucking mother saw me. Yes, my fucking mother, and it all came out then and there, and not in the way I would’ve wanted it to.” My real father, Sax Saxonberg, had also seen me inhaling Dayton Navarro’s meat, but he seemed cool with it. The point I was trying to make to Bond was that it was nearly impossible to hide it. I tried.

He yelled, “Why would I slip up if I only hook up with guys in Lake Havasu City?”

“Lake Havasu?” I sputtered. “That’s like twenty minutes from our clubhouse. Who the hell is not going to be grinding in Lake Havasu? Chances are I’ll literally run into you within the first ten days.”

“Okay, then I’ll go farther! Needles, Bullhead City!”

“That’s Assassins of Youth turf! Lock was nearly beheaded by those morons for being gay before they let him leave their fucking club. Listen, what I’m trying to say is—“

“What you’re trying to say is I’m supposed to admit something I haven’t even admitted to myself! No fucking thank you!”

We were practically standing toe to toe now, shouting at each other. Being so close, we didn’t really need to shout. But it sort of fit our moods, I think. We were both pissed as hell. “It’s going to haunt you anyway, asshole! Think how wrong it’ll feel, trying to suck some girl’s boob while the whole time you’re imagining it’s some guy’s cock.”

“I don’t suck cock! I’m a fucking—a fucking—“

“Ha! You don’t even know what you are, that’s how far in denial you are. You probably don’t even know what a top or a Dom is. You’re so far in denial you’re swimming in Lake Victoria, and every time you slide your cock into a chick you’re going to be fantasizing it’s some guy’s tight ass. You’re going to be wishing that hair you’re stroking of the girl blowing you belongs to a guy, and—“

“I don’t fuck guys either! All I do is let them blow me, once in a blue fucking moon, and that’s just because they’re better at giving blowjobs than chicks are.” Bond was so close he was spitting on my face with every word.

“—and every time you kiss a girl you’re going to be pretending to yourself it’s a guy just so you can get it up—“

“Oh, fuck it.”

That last was just one long groan, and suddenly Bond was kissing me.

I know, it sounds insane to say. It sounds insane to write it. In a fraction of a second, Bond went from a straight guy who only allowed men the pleasure of blowing him because they were more talented to a guy who just wanted to kiss another man. And that fucking man was me.

Me. A guy who’d never been kissed.

I was so shocked, so taken by surprise, at first I thought it was some strange kind of torture, maybe some martial arts move. I froze like a Windows computer. Abso-fucking-lutely stunned, my hands in the shape of claws, waiting for Bond to hurt me.

But he didn’t. And he didn’t stop. The kiss just got warmer, more passionate. He parted his lips and tickled mine with the tip of his tongue, snorting hot puffs against my cheek. His palm cradled my skull, pressing me to him, and he came up so close the toes of our boots touched.

No. He wasn’t going to hurt me. He was just filled to the brim with lust.

I breathed. My hands melted, and I dared to encircle his waist. I ran my hands underneath his cut, bold enough to feel his burning skin under the filmy wifebeater he seemed to have worn just to seduce me. Ah. My pheromones were responding to his essential manly scent, that mysterious, unfathomable scent that draws lovers together. I parted my lips and allowed him to tickle my tongue-tip, even relaxing enough to utter a moan that had him delving his tongue deeper.

He bent at the knees, leaning into me. With one of his hands on my hip, the other curled around the slope of my ass, pressing me into him, sort of lifting me. I gasped in his mouth, shocked to feel the pressure of his erection against mine. The delicious sensuality when he angled his hips ever so slightly sent a rush of bloodlust to my groin. In a flash, my dick was throbbing against my fly buttons.

Never in a billion years had I fantasized about this brutal, statuesque god making a pass at me, much less kissing me. And now he was thrust his pelvis against mine, dry-humping me with quick little jolts as though he meant to lift my boots clean off the ground. Our tongues twined together now, Bond lapping at the underside of mine. The tip of his beautiful, straight nose touched my cheekbone. It was much more voracious, no holds barred then the gentle kiss of a woman. So this is what it’s like to kiss a man. Already I wanted to do it over…and over…and over.

Just as he gave his most savage grunt punctuated by a stab of the hips, Bond broke away. Panting, with hands out at his side, he looked utterly stunned. He gazed at me wide-eyed as though he’d never seen me before. Oh, Lord. This is where he takes everything back again. Already I was getting to know Bond and his flip-flopping ways. He disgustedly wiped his mouth off on his forearm.

“There,” he practically spat. “Maybe that will shut you up.” He ambled past me like a Cro-Magnon man, all bulging muscles and aboriginal forehead, just like the knuckle-dragger he was. Even his stupid voice sounded dumb, a roided-out boxer who’d been bashed in the head too many times. “Let’s get this fucking show on the road. That kid ain’t waiting forever.”

I swiveled around, still trying to drink everything in. That was when Twinkletoes stepped out from behind a pillar.

“Way to not be gay, guy.”

It was so unexpected I burst out in laughter. I looked at Twinkletoes, expected him to be laughing, too, but he wasn’t. He’d meant every word. It wasn’t until he saw me busting a gut that he realized it had been funny. He, too, started chuckling, his eyes watery.

Bond had already slammed the hell back into the rape van’s passenger seat, jamming his seat belt into its buckle, so I stood next to the former Prospect.

“Strange guy,” Twinkletoes chuckled. “I busted him coming out of the Blue Oyster, but he denies being attracted to men.”

“Oh, you saw him there, too? This is what I’m trying to tell him. He’s not gonna be able to keep it under wraps for long.”

“Especially not in a club full of homosexuals. He doesn’t need to fly the colors of a unicorn riding a rainbow for those Zealots to scope him out a mile off.”

“I don’t envy you. You’ve got your hands full sponsoring him.”

Bond rolled down the manual window on the old van. “Hey! Burning daylight here!”

Twinkletoes exhaled loudly between pursed lips. “This is gonna be a tough row to hoe, for sure.”

I slapped him on the shoulder, pretending to be cheery about the whole thing. In reality, I was tweaked, thinking about the road ahead for Bond. It was hard enough coming out when you wanted to, like me. But for a guy so determined to think he was as straight as a laser beam, coming to grips with reality would be even worse.

Buy the book:

 

RC

Meet the Author

Bestselling author Layla Wolfe is satisfied with a leather jacket, one bad-ass pink camo compound bow, and a vicarious outlaw lifestyle. Her BARE BONES MC series explores the dark, disturbing life of the biker club in Arizona. Her spinoff series THE BENT ZEALOTS MC is a gritty MM saga.

Layla Wolfe is the pen name of multi-published erotic romance author Karen Mercury. To sign up for her email list to be notified of new releases, visit: http://oi.vresp.com/?fid=c6b5ab1d41

Where to find the author:

www.laylawolfe.com
www.facebook.com/layla.wolfe
www.twitter.com/LaylaWolfeAutho
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8072579.Layla_Wolfe

 

Tour Dates & Stops:

Parker Williams, Havan Fellows, Bayou Book Junkie, Divine Magazine, BFD Book Blog, Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents, My Fiction Nook, Inked Rainbow Reads, Happily Ever Chapter, Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words, Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews, Alpha Book Club, Molly Lolly, Sinfully Addicted to All Male Romance, Vampires, Werewolves, and Fairies, Oh My, Two Chicks Obsessed With Books and Eye Candy, Three Books Over The Rainbow, The Blogger Girls, Charley Descoteaux

Final

Giveaway

Enter to win a Rafflecopter Prize: Books #1 and #2 of THE BENT ZEALOTS MC.  Must be 18 years of age or older, link and prizes provided by the author and Pride Promotions.

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A BJ Review: Winter (The Haunted Heart #1) by Josh Lanyon

Rating:  5 stars out of 5

Winter the Haunted Heart coverStill grieving the sudden death of his lover, antiques dealer Flynn Ambrose moves to his uncle’s old, ramshackle house on Pitch Pine Lane to catalog and sell the large inventory of arcane and oddball items that once filled his late uncle’s mysterious museum.

Flynn suffered a serious breakdown and attempted to kill himself after his lover’s unexpected death, and he’s still very depressed despite the counseling and help from his parents. He needs space and makes a deal with his parents (which I won’t share details of as too much of a spoiler) that allows him to travels to the rather secluded property to perform the inventory. Unexpectedly, he finds himself seeing a ghost in an old mirror. The only one Flynn has to turn to is Kirk, the thirteen year older, slightly grouchy but handsome playwright renting the downstairs of his house. When Kirk is also witness to the apparition, he can’t write Flynn’s problem off as easily as he had wanted to. When the ghost seems able to exit the mirror, the guys find themselves trying figure out what to do about the mirror before the ghost does them in. But getting rid of the thing isn’t as easy as it seems.

This book is bit of a step back to the scary stories of old… and it is scary folks. But then, I knew Lanyon could do horror after reading In a Dark Woods came out of nowhere and scared the heck out of me. This one is not of the gory variety where stuff is thrown in just for the ick factor either. This is tried and true, get inside your head and freak you out kind of scary. It will make you want to read with the lights on, it will make you think, and it might also make you cry.

This story has several elements I loved. First, as you’d expect from Lanyon, there’s a well-done and very interesting mystery that takes us on a compelling journey into the prejudices of the past. But it’s also the tender and heartbreaking story of a young man trying to deal with suddenly losing the man he grew up with and had thought he’d spend his entire life with to such a incredibly freak accident at entirely too young an age. Flynn’s situation is so heartrending. He’s in no way over what happened, and yet we see glimpses of his underlying strength in the way he handles the events and the manor. Then there’s Kirk, a Ranger in Afghanistan who appears to be suffering from PTSD, although we didn’t get much depth to his backstory just yet. I am so eager to learn more about both these men and follow along their journey, hopefully to each other.

Winter is an excellent mystery with wonderful character building and just a touch of heat, but if you want insta-love and lots of hot sex, this one doesn’t quite fill that bill. What we have here is more of a romance in bloom, and I found that both refreshing and perfect for book one of a series. Wait, maybe it is insta-love in a way, because it certainly did make me fall in love with both Kirk and Flynn.

I enjoyed the way the mystery plays out ties and the tantalizing little clue tidbit at the end rounds it out perfectly. Overall this is an excellent ghost story to read this October.

Cover art. Just look at that lovely, eerie, moody cover! It’s beautiful. Highly recommended read.

Sales Links:   All Romance (ARe) | Amazon | Buy It Here


Book Details:  

ebook, 147 pages
Published August 26th 2013 by Josh Lanyon (first published January 1st 2013)
ISBN13 9781937909482
edition language English
series The Haunted Heart #1

A Free Dreamer Review: To Catch A Threeve by Alexis Duran

Rating: 3.5 stars out of 5

To Catch a ThreeveAxel Blackwood catches a thief and is astounded to see that he closely resembles Liam Alloway, the love he lost seven years ago in an attack by the evil woodland folk known as threeves. Axel suspects he’s fallen prey to dark magic, but can’t help becoming infatuated with his prisoner. He’s overwhelmed with the hope that he can at last bring his lost lover home, despite everything that warns him it’s all a diabolical trick.

Bryn Darrow, the half-threeve, half human orphan sent to trick Axel and rob him of much more than a simple gem finds himself equally as fascinated with his handsome human captor and the lure of someplace to call home, but he knows deep down that the constable is in love with a dangerous illusion. When he’s commanded by the threeves to murder Axel and steal a witch’s powerful grimoire, he’s forced to decide between the only family he’s ever known and the one person who might rescue him from a life of isolation and pain.

Will Axel and Bryn be forced into a deadly confrontation before they can discover the truth?
Axel is still mourning Liam, the man he loved, seven years after his death. He wholly dedicated his life to the fight against the threeves, the beings who killed Liam and has given up on ever finding love again, but he’s mostly come to terms with his loss. One day he catches a half-threeve, who looks just like Liam. But Liam is dead, so this has to be some cruel magical trick.
Bryn is said half-threeve, sent out to bring down the dangerous threeve-killer. That turns out to be much harder than he thought, because Axel is not some cruel, mindless killer.

What follows is a journey full of intrigues and secrets, uncovering lies and deception.

“To Catch a Threeve” has an interesting premise, with a completely new species. The threeves reminded me of elves, with their pointy ears and small stature. But they had their unique features as well, like the skin that looks like tree bark. I love it when authors invent new species, so I was thrilled with the threeves.

Overall, the plot was a little predictable. About halfway through I’d figured out half the mysteries. It was still interesting to read about the MCs figuring it all out in their own way, though.

While the threeves were very well developed, the world building as a whole was a little lacking. There’s talk about different religions, but the author doesn’t really give us an explanation. The most common religion frowns on homosexuality, while the second mentioned religion seems to embrace every form of love freely.

The taboo of homosexuality created an additional layer of tension, but it wasn’t overdone. The MCs are fine with their sexuality and don’t face any extreme homophobia.

To sum it up, “To Catch A Threeve” was a mostly enjoyable story, with an interesting new species. The ending was predictable and some more world building wouldn’t have hurt. If you’re looking for a quick fantasy read with a healthy dose of romance, then this is definitely a book for you. If you’re looking for a well thought out universe and a unique plot however, you will be disappointed.

Cover Art: Fiona Jayde created a very appealing cover. The colours work really well together and I like the mysterious look of it.

Sales Links:  Loose id  |  All Romance (ARe) | Amazon | Buy It Here

Book Details:

122 pages
Published October 28th 2014 by Loose Id
(first published October 20th 2014)
ISBN139781623005375
edition languageEnglish

 

Coffee Sip and Book Break with P.D. Singer ‘Otter Chaos’ (excerpt and giveaway)

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Otter Chaos by P.D. Singer
Release Date: October 9, 2015

Goodreads Link
Publisher: Rocky Ridge Books
Cover Artist: Dar Albert, Wicked Smart Designs

Buy the book: Amazon | Amazon Kindle |All Romance eBooks | Smashwords | Rocky Ridge Books

Apple i Tunes | Kobo

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Blurb

Otter Chaos (includes Tail Slide)

Lon Ewing snowboarded in and turned economist Corey Levigne’s life upside down, introducing him to a world he didn’t know existed. Corey’s still adjusting to a boyfriend who shifts into an otter and raids the koi pond—and now Lon says Corey’s department chair is a werewolf?

Wolves at the university, wolves in the bank—across Lon’s desk sits Professor Melvin Vadas and his hench-wolves, demanding a construction loan for the pack’s new lodge in the mountains. There’s just one little problem: the proposed building site is home to a breeding population of rare fish.

What do wolves care for stupid human rules, an otter who’d barely make a good snack, or one pesky human determined to protect the environment? Once they’re snout to snout with Corey and Lon there’s more than silverscale dace on the Endangered Species list.

Includes Tail Slide (the short that kicked off otter madness)

Fresh powder snow and running water in the Colorado back country call Lon like the moon calls the wolves. Belly-sliding to a good time on the weekends makes up for a workweek at a desk, and meeting Corey adds a whole new level of fun to snowboarding.

It’s easy to slip away for time alone in the woods without raising suspicion, but how’s Lon to entertain himself when bad snow and a worse spill force them off the mountain too early?

Never give an otter a box of Cheerios.

 

Pages or Words: 84500 (11000 Tail Slide, 73500 Otter Chaos) 276 pages total
Categories: M/M Romance, Paranormal

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Excerpt


Threading his way between the tables to reach the group, Corey intended to set the glass down on the small table in their center without interrupting the flow. Maybe he didn’t really need to steady himself on Lon’s shoulder, but it was a good excuse to touch his boyfriend, get a little squeeze and a promise for later in at the same time. “Bet you need to wet your whistle.”

Lon jerked up hard enough to jostle Corey’s arm. Brown liquid slopped over the rim of the glass. At least it missed Lon’s instrument, but what—?

“No. Sorry. But no.” Lon twisted under the strap of his guitar. “We need to leave. Now.”

“Wha—?” Corey all but dropped the glass. “Why?”

“Now. Please.” Lon was up and sidling toward his guitar case.

Corey followed. What else could he do? The man who’d been gleefully leading fiddles and mandolins had cased his instrument and bolted out the side door. Lon barely waited on the porch of the old house turned brewpub, dashing to the passenger side of the RAV4 before Corey was quite outside in the chill spring night.

“Go, go, go,” Lon begged. “Quick.”

“Okay.” Corey tucked his long legs under the steering wheel and peeled out of the parking lot. “Want to explain the sudden need to be elsewhere?”

Lon’s knuckles practically glowed with their whiteness—if the armrest of the passenger seat breathed, Lon would have choked the life out of it three blocks back. “I smelled wolf.”

That again. “I did see Melvin come into the pub.” Corey aimed the truck toward south Boulder, because Lon had that trembly look where his dark brown hair and beard seemed to puff out bigger. Absolutely no reason to stress him, and every reason to take him home and pet him into exhausted, sweaty peace.

“Can you get a job at Harvard or Stanford or somewhere far, far away from CU?” Lon whimpered. “Or decide you don’t like me anymore?”

“No and no.” Corey gave his lover a stern look on the turn into the driveway. “I’m headed for tenure here and I love you. I don’t want to change either one of those things.” He pulled Lon across the console to plant a kiss in short, sleek, hair. “Let’s go look at the koi one last time, and then last one into bed is a rotten egg.”

“Rotten egg! Ick!” But Lon was diverted enough to scamper to the back yard, not too fast to be caught.

 

 

RC

 

Meet the author:

P.D. Singer lives in Colorado with her slightly bemused husband, two rowdy teenage boys, and thirty pounds of cats. She’s a big believer in research, first-hand if possible, so the reader can be quite certain PD has skied down a mountain face-first, been stepped on by rodeo horses, acquired a potato burn or two, and will never, ever, write a novel that includes sky-diving.

When not writing, playing her fiddle, or skiing, she can be found with a book in hand.

 

Where to find the author:


Tour Dates & Stops:

Parker Williams, Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words, Bayou Book Junkie, Inked Rainbow Reads, Full Moon Dreaming, Jessie G. Books, Rainbow Gold Reviews, Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents, My Fiction Nook,

The Hat Party, The Jena Wade, Molly Lolly, Carly’s Book Reviews, Havan Fellows, Open Skye Book Reviews, Vampires, Werewolves, and Fairies, Oh My, BFD Book Blog, V’s Reads, Mikky’s World of Books, MM Good Book Reviews, Divine Magazine, Dawn’s Reading Nook, Two Chicks Obsessed With Books and Eye Candy, SA McAuley, Posy Roberts, Nephy Hart, Three Books Over The Rainbow, Multitasking Mommas, Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews

Final

Giveaway

Rafflecopter Prize: 1 signed print book, or  1 ebook (mobi, epub or pdf), otter ornament (offer as separate prizes please).  Must be 18 years of age or older to enter.  Link and prizes provided by the author and Pride Promotions.  Please see disclaimer.

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WillPride

Its Riptide Publishing’s 4th Anniversary Celebration Blog Tour! (Andrea Speed guest blog and giveaway)

Riptide Publishing’s
4th Anniversary Celebration!

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Thank you for joining Riptide on our 4th Anniversary blog tour! We are excited to bring you new guest posts from our authors and a behind the scenes insights from Riptide. The full tour schedule can be found at here . Don’t miss the limited time discounts and Free Books for a Year giveaway at the end of this post!

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Please welcome Andrea Speed to the tour.

To me, horror and comedy have always been attached at the hip. Now I know that position might be anathema to many, but think about it. If you break it down into its component parts, many horror stories are ridiculous. Clowns with machetes? Dead people who eat live people? Undead bloodsuckers who wear capes and flounce around like party boys who ran out of molly? This stuff’s hilarious, people.

Not to say that it can’t be horrific too, because it can be. It can be two things at once. Ridiculous and scary, bloody and silly. I have many real world examples of this. From the granddaddy of them all, Evil Dead 2 (I honestly believe Bruce Campbell’s fight with his own hand belongs in a spot in the cinema hall of fame, if such a thing exists), to the great granddaddy Young Frankenstein, to the more contemporary examples of What We Do In The Shadows to any of the comedy episodes of Supernatural (which, to their credit, are usually pretty funny, especially if Ben Edlund writes it). Humor and horror belong together like chocolate and more chocolate. And it would make the Walking Dead a thousand times more watchable if they just included a goofy moment or two somewhere – anywhere, in any episode.

You’d think this would be a given, but it simply isn’t, and as a fan of “serious” horror, it baffles me. Yeah, I like a good “straight” scare as much as the next person, but if we can’t laugh at ourselves and the clichés and conventions of the genre, then what’s the point? You can’t take yourself so seriously. Life is pretty absurd, once you think about it, and I feel everything needs to acknowledge that if we want to get up and move on.

Which brings me to Josh of the Damned. If you asked me to describe the most hellish job in existence, it wouldn’t be mortuary worker, or garbage man, or even sewer worker. It would always be service industry, because, let’s face it, most people are pretty terrible. You could be a good person but having an off day, and you end up inadvertently taking it out on a stranger you doubt you’ll see again, which is often this hapless worker bee, be they a barista, a fast food cashier, or a store clerk. There is so much naturalistic horror to be found in this setting I don’t know why all horror stories don’t start or end there.

It’s not subtle commentary to say that Josh’s monster clients are often nicer than his human clients, because they are. Oh sure, occasionally they threaten to kill him or ear hentai him, but even Josh understands this isn’t as bad as it could be. He’s an undereducated, underpaid everyman who finds himself the lynchpin in a battle between worlds he can barely comprehend, and has no hope of understanding. It doesn’t stop him, though, which is the mark of a true hero. You go do something, even if you have no idea what’s going on in the bigger picture. You just try and deal with the mess here and now.

I’ve written more conventional types of heroes (including one who still sees the humor in the whole bloody mess of everything – his name rhymes with phone), but I feel like Josh could always stand shoulder to shoulder with them. Yes, he’s a night clerk, and he doesn’t always understand what’s going on or what he’s supposed to do about it. But he goes into work every night and he tries, which is a feat of heroism all by itself.


So next time you’re in a business, and see a weary clerk/cashier/barista, thank them, or just give them a big tip. We all fight monsters. Some are just more literal than others.

About Josh of the Damned

Josh Caplan is your average late-night convenience store clerk, but the Quik-Mart where he works is nothing like normal with that hell vortex in the parking lot. Waiting on zombies, demons, and other things that go bump in the night might scare some, but they’re actually more polite than the stoners, and Josh welcomes the break in the monotony—especially when he acquires himself a sexy new boyfriend with a deadly secret.

Will Josh survive this retail nightmare? It’s a Big Gulp of a chance, but between the hazard pay and the hottie with a sweet tooth for Josh’s candy, it’s a chance he’s willing to take.

About Andrea Speed

Andrea Speed was born looking for trouble in some hot month without an R in it. While succeeding in finding Trouble, she has also been found by its twin brother, Clean Up, and is now on the run, wanted for the murder of a mop and a really cute, innocent bucket that was only one day away from retirement. (I was framed, I tell you – framed!)

In her spare time, she arms lemurs in preparation for the upcoming war against the Mole Men. Viva la revolution!

Connect with Andrea:

[Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words Note:  Andrea Speed’s  Joshua of the Damned series is on our October Scary Tales Recommendations and their covers are always on our Best of Lists.]

Anniversary Sale

The Josh of the Damned series is being sold in a special discounted bundle by Riptide this week only. Check out the sale on this series and other bundles at http://www.riptidepublishing.com/anniversary-sale

Giveaway

To celebrate our anniversary, Riptide Publishing is giving away free books for a year! Your first comment at each blog stop on the Anniversary Tour will count as an entry and give you a chance to win this great prize. Giveaway ends at midnight, October 31, 2015, and is not restricted to US entries.  You must leave your email address in the body of the comment so you can be contacted if chosen.  You must also be 18 years of age or older to enter.

Rafflecopter code:http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/c1ee22d91

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