In the Spotlight: Never Let You Go (Forever Yours #2) by Andrew Grey (guest blog and excerpt)

Never Let You Go (Forever Yours #2) by Andrew Grey

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Release Date: Sept 8 2017
Cover Artist: L.C. Chase
Available for Purchase from Dreamspinner Press

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to have Andrew Grey here for a short interview on his tour for his latest novel Never Let You Go (Forever Yours #2).  Welcome, Andrew.

♥︎

How much of yourself goes into a character?   There is some of me in every character I write.  I think there has to be in order for the characters to feel genuine.  I have written characters that are completely different from me in many ways, but still there is some small piece of myself in them.  I like to think of myself as a caring giving person and even in my hardest, most unfeeling characters, they often still have something redeemable inside.  Even if its really deep down. 

Do you like HFN or HEA? And why?  I really like both.  I like it best when a story has a HEA.  Sometimes a happy ever after is too contrived to bring about in some circumstances.  Making the characters happy for now is sometimes good enough.  However I do feel that with a HFN, we owe our readers something in the future.  Maybe a glimpse of their lives in a future book that shows the progression of the relationship.  After all we read romance because we want our characters to be happy.

Do you read romances, as a teenager and as an adult?  I didn’t start reading romances until I was in my forties.  I found them by accident an Amazon algorithms.    They recommended the first gay romances to me and I was hooked after my first few books. 

Blurb/Synopsis:

Friends since they met in school, Ashton and Brighton soon become much more. Ash and his aunt are Brighton’s haven away from his mess of a family, and when Ash enlists in the Army, Brighton learns to endure his long absences and eagerly awaits his return from missions.

Until one day Ash doesn’t come back, and Brighton thinks his greatest fear has come true.

Months pass and Brighton grieves for Ash, not knowing that a terrible misunderstanding sent Ash running, unable to cope when he thought Brighton had betrayed him. Even after an emotional reunion, their relationship isn’t the same—Brighton is now responsible for his young niece, and he’s having a hard time rediscovering the trust he once had in Ash. Ash must still tend to his mental health, but before he can, he’ll have to deal with a past secret that puts all their lives at risk. With so many forces determined to tear them apart, can Brighton and Ash hold on to each other and never let go?

Series: Currently a Standalone
Genre:  M/M Contemporary Romance

Excerpt 

Prologue

One Year Ago

Ashton Williams parked under one of the apple-shaped streetlights on Main Street and got out of his old gray Taurus. He leaned back down to grab his hated cane and then closed the car door. Standing still, he turned to the right and left, looking up and down the street. It hadn’t changed much at all. The place still had the same small-town feel it always had. Ash remembered bounding up the steps of the library when he was in high school so he could see if they had a copy of the latest movie or a video game he’d wanted. Books, not so much, but games and videos—he’d been all about those.

He took a step around the car, heading away from traffic and onto the sidewalk. The drugstore was just down the block, and damn it all, he wasn’t so crippled that half a block was too far to walk. Maybe he should have waited until he’d had more therapy and the doctors decided if he should have surgery on his knee. Ash had been making progress and everyone said he needed to be patient. Ash stopped, pushing those memories from his mind. That wasn’t why he was here, and those thoughts did nothing but bring him back to the brink of the gaping hole of despair he’d been thrown into for months. He needed to put that behind him, at least during the day. Nights were another matter, but during the day, he was determined to look forward to what he’d had and could have once again.

Ash’s heart beat a little faster as he walked closer to the store where Brighton worked. He was so properly named; at least Ash had always thought so. One look from his stunning blue eyes could push away the heaviest clouds. Even recalling them in his mind’s eye allowed him to get through months of confinement in rooms and holes where he could barely move, stomach empty, throat parched, wishing he could die but knowing Brighton was out there, waiting for him. Ash had stored the sunshine in those eyes in his mind, holding them precious, letting those eyes framed by flowing blond curls carry him through hell and out the other side. The photograph he’d had was long gone. It had fallen apart months ago. Ash had worn it out, but he carried the image with him where no one could get to it.

He’d called the telephone number he had for Brighton three times, each with the same response that the number was no longer in service, and when he checked the internet, it pointed him to the number he already had. That only added to his need to get here and see if he could find Brighton in case something had happened to him.

He moved on, getting closer now. Ash knew Brighton’s schedule at work, at least the one he’d been working before he’d left. Ash hadn’t wanted to leave, but he’d had no choice, and saying goodbye to Brighton had been the hardest, most heartbreaking thing he’d ever had to do. It was supposed to be his last assignment, two weeks and then he’d be able to use up his remaining leave and he’d be done, free, out… and his life would be his own once again. And now it was, at least what was left of it. He’d been discharged, sure enough, but he was left a shell of a man, and not just his injured body. His insides were hollow, and Ash wasn’t even sure who he was any longer. All he knew was that he needed to get back to Brighton, so as soon as he’d been released and his debriefings were completed, he’d taken off, against the doctor’s wishes. Everything inside him pulled him to Brighton.

Now he was back in his hometown, where he and Brighton had first met in middle school, though it was years later that they’d reconnected and something had clicked between them. Ash still couldn’t believe it had been at a church social his aunt—Petunia to everyone else, but Aunt Petey to him—and only remaining family member had asked him to attend. He’d expected an evening of old ladies and helping Aunt Petey with whatever she needed.

Ash raised his eyes to the sky, letting the heat from the sun warm his face and dry the tears that threatened. He’d already been to see her in the nursing home and was determined to get her the hell out of there.

“One thing at a time,” he whispered to himself. That was another symptom of his incarceration at the hands of the enemy: he talked to himself all the time. It was a way to feel less lonely and had become a habit. He needed to let go of it because it tended to freak other people out. He lifted his gaze as he continued his slow steps toward his goal.

The door to the drugstore opened and a man stepped out. Ash knew him instantly—the height, or lack of it, slight build, floppy curls. Brighton needed a haircut, but he was still the man Ash had thought of and dreamed about every single time he’d closed his eyes for the last nine months. His body ached all over, and Ash felt Brighton’s pull as strongly as the gravity of the sun.

Ash took a few steps, for a few seconds forgetting the cane and his aching leg. They didn’t matter. All that did was how close he was and removing the last bit of distance that had spanned months and thousands of miles. Brighton turned away without looking, heading farther from him. He wasn’t walking fast, but Ash was even slower, regardless of how much he pushed. Somehow Ash managed to pick up his pace, needing to get closer. The man he carried in his heart so deep, who had gotten him through hell and allowed him to come back, was just ahead, so close he could see him.

Ash opened his mouth to call out as Brighton stopped at the door to the coffee shop, holding it open as someone emerged. Another man, someone Ash didn’t recognize, fell into step with Brighton, heading to the corner. They waited for the light, and Ash moved forward while they stopped. He was so damn close.

“Brighton,” Ash called, but the sound went nowhere. His throat was so dry, the cry came out as a whisper. He wet his mouth and swallowed multiple times, unable to take his gaze away. Ash’s heart raced, his blood pounding a staccato beat in his ears. This was it. He was close, and all he could think about was how he was going to get to taste Brighton’s sweet lips and feel his smooth, hot skin under his hands, and have someone to hold and see him through the nights when the inevitable nightmares came.

Ash stopped walking as Brighton leaned into the other man’s touch. It was then that Ash saw the other man’s hand rested on the small of Brighton’s back, protectively, lovingly, the way Ash had always done. The light changed, and they crossed the street together. Ash told himself that they could just be friends and got his feet moving once again. Brighton was within sight and so close.

But then Ash stopped dead in his tracks, unable to move, as the man walking with Brighton leaned closer, his face disappearing behind Brighton’s head. Ash knew he’d kissed him. He couldn’t move. Suddenly his feet were so heavy, he couldn’t lift them. He leaned entirely on his cane, hoping it didn’t buckle under his weight, because if it did, he was going down. Ash didn’t give a fuck. The physical pain would be preferable to the ache that settled where his heart had been, growing more and more acute until each breath became a stabbing pain. He’d seen movies, plenty of them, and he always thought that expression actors used when their heart had broken was fake. Well, it wasn’t. He knew, because when he turned, the mask of pain reflected in the plate glass window was that exact expression. Combined with it was a sharp tearing he knew was his heart shattering into a million little pieces before scattering to the breeze.

He lifted his gaze to where Brighton had been but didn’t see him. They were gone, most likely into the diner across the street. Ash thought about going over himself, but he knew what he would find and couldn’t take it. The thought of Brighton, the person he loved, the man who’d sworn he’d wait for him, his soul mate and the reason Ash had survived that hellhole for months…. Ash couldn’t even bring himself to say the words.

That same gaping maw of blackness that had dogged him through months of interrogation opened in front of him again. More than once he’d thought of throwing himself into it and bringing the pain to an end. But he hadn’t. He’d been stronger than that, and he still was, dammit. Ash turned around and lifted his gaze to where his car was parked. He hadn’t really gone that far, thank God. At least he could make it back and then, in the semi privacy of his own vehicle, he could fall apart.

A few minutes later, Ash fumbled to open the car door and threw the cane inside, the metal rod banging against the far window before falling onto the floor of the back seat. He managed to get inside and close the door, then leaned forward, resting his head on the steering wheel.

In the few minutes he’d been gone, the car had turned into an oven, and when Ash closed his eyes, he was right back in that little hole in the ground where the air didn’t move and the sun beating on the dark-painted metal threatened to roast him alive. Ash gasped as he came back to himself and reality. He started the car and turned the air-conditioning on full blast. He needed cold, and he got plenty of it. Within minutes he was chilled and maybe shivering as frigid air flooded into the car. Ash ignored it as he put the car into gear. He pulled out of the parking space and through town without stopping. He didn’t know where he was going to go. One thing was for sure: there was no way he could stay here. Brighton was with someone else, and running into him was only going to break Ash’s heart and send him into a spin of despair that even now he wasn’t sure he could recover from.

Ash saw the signs pointing to 15 and made the turn toward the freeway. That was his ticket out and away. He had to make a stop first, but he could do that. Then… well, maybe it was best if he went back to the hospital. He was a man of his word, unlike some people.

Fuck it all to hell if his lower lip didn’t quiver just a little. Ash pounded the steering wheel with his hand. He hated that he was so fucking weak. He’d promised the doctors that there was something he had to do and that he’d come back. At the time Ash had meant it, even if in the back of his head he’d hoped that would be after a happy reunion with Brighton and….

Ash shook his head to clear away those thoughts and ended up swerving from one side of the road to the next. No, he needed to get it together long enough to see his aunt one more time and then drive back to the hospital. That was what he needed to do.

With his decision made, he got ready to turn his back on the one person he’d honestly expected would always be there for him.

About the Author

Andrew grew up in western Michigan with a father who loved to tell stories and a mother who loved to read them. Since then he has lived throughout the country and traveled throughout the world. He has a master’s degree from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and works in information systems for a large corporation.

Andrew’s hobbies include collecting antiques, gardening, and leaving his dirty dishes anywhere but in the sink (particularly when writing)  He considers himself blessed with an accepting family, fantastic friends, and the world’s most supportive and loving partner. Andrew currently lives in beautiful, historic Carlisle, Pennsylvania.

Author Links

Amazon Author Page

Barnes and Noble Page

Dreamspinner Press

Facebook

Facebook Group All the Way with Andrew Grey

Goodreads

Twitter @andrewgreybooks

Website

For Other Works by Andrew Grey

(Please Be Sure To Stop by His Website to See All of His Works)

Ari McKay on Their New Novel & Series. Check out ‘Out of the Ashes (Asheville Arcana #1) by Ari McKay (guest post and excerpt)

Out of the Ashes (Asheville Arcana #1) by Ari McKay
Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: Aaron Anderson

 

Buy Links:  Dreamspinner Press AmazonBarnes & Noble 

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to have Ari McKay here again talking fae, werewolves and romance with their latest novel Out of the Ashes! Welcome!

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Hi, everyone! A big thank you to our hosts here at Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words for hosting us today, and to you for joining us! Ari here again, bringing you an excerpt from our latest release, Out of the Ashes, the debut novel of the Dreamspun Beyond line and book one of our new series, Asheville Arcana! To say we are excited is definitely an understatement! We’ve been looking forward to this for months, and we’re over the moon that it’s finally here!!!

Out of the Ashes is a love story, and a mystery, and a drama, and a comedy, all built around a world where the creatures of myth and legend exist beside but unknown to the mortal world. We wanted to build a unique setting that was all our own, one where elves and dwarves, werewolves and wizards, ghosts and vampires and demons all play a part. At the same time, though, we had to balance our world building with the strictures of length and structure of the Dreamspun Beyond line, and we hope you enjoy this story, and that we give you enough of a glimpse of the bigger picture to make you want to come back for more! I’ve talked a lot in other places about how and why we came to this story, so today I want to just leave you with a taste of what we have to offer, to hopefully entice you into giving us a try! Enjoy!

MOST nights, Arden slept like a baby. Once his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light. Unless, of course, someone was sharing his bed, which happened with less frequency over the last ten years or so. He still had an active social life, but he’d begun working longer hours after building his second resort, the Hilltop. When he felt the need for intimacy, he tended to gravitate toward Whimsy and Julian and one or two other longtime partners, rather than jumping in to find someone new and exciting.

But after having dinner with Whimsy, Arden had kissed his friend good night and gone to bed alone. He told himself it was because he’d had a busy day, and the next day promised to be even worse, but the fact was that he couldn’t sleep for thinking about Eli Hammond.

The werewolf was gorgeous—there was no denying it. With a positively leonine mane of dark, sun-streaked blond hair and crystal-blue eyes, Eli was enough to make even someone as used to beauty as Arden sit up and take notice. He was also huge and buff, and Arden was desperately curious to see what Eli looked like naked, although his imagination insisted on supplying plenty of images to taunt him. But it was more than just his stunning looks that appealed to Arden, and more, even, than the tragedy of Eli’s plight. There was something special about Eli, and Arden felt drawn to him like a moth to flame.

Arden had, of course, noticed Eli’s aura at once, and it had nearly knocked him out of his seat. Not all supernaturals could see auras, but Arden, like his father, had been born with the gift. Other supernaturals—such as Julian—learned to do it after a great deal of study and meditation, but most couldn’t see them at all. And what Arden saw was stunning.

Every creature had a unique aura, determined both by what they were and who they were. Vampires, like Julian, all had a misty, silvery aura with different shapes and tones based on their age and if they were a good, bad, or neutral type of person. Elves tended toward golden, and dryads, not surprisingly, were usually green. Werewolves had deep crimson auras, but while the core of Eli’s had been red where Arden observed it close to his body, it quickly became a beautiful, multihued halo that was almost like looking at the sun. No one Arden had ever seen had looked so bright, and that was part of why he’d known he had to help Eli, no matter what the council or anyone else said about it.

But thoughts of Eli kept Arden awake most of the night. He felt himself pulled to the werewolf, as though there was an invisible connection between them. It was odd, but Arden found himself wanting to go check on Eli in the middle of the night, to make certain he was all right and didn’t need anything. Which was probably stupid, considering that Eli was an alpha werewolf who could obviously take care of himself quite well. Eli would probably think there was something very wrong with Arden wanting to cuddle up to him, run his fingers through Eli’s hair, and just be close to him.

He finally gave up trying to sleep and went to his office, immersing himself in paperwork until his watch beeped at him at his normal waking time. Taking himself off to the kitchen, he ordered up an enormous breakfast of bacon, sausage, ham, fried eggs, hash browns, grits, and toast. When the cook had prepared the tray, he picked it up and carried it out to Eli’s cabin, balancing it carefully as he knocked on the door.

A few moments later, Eli opened the door. His long, wavy hair was a sleep-tousled mess falling around his broad shoulders, and he wore only a pair of jeans that rode low on his hips. His chest and feet were bare, giving Arden an unhindered look at the sculpted pecs and washboard abs that had been hidden beneath his clothes yesterday.

Eli blinked sleepily at Arden and rubbed his neatly trimmed beard, but when he saw the loaded tray, his eyes widened with surprise.

“I didn’t order breakfast.”

For a long moment Arden couldn’t speak; it wasn’t every day that he got to see a warm, sleepy, nearly naked hunk of buff hotness up close. In fact, he couldn’t remember ever seeing anyone as gorgeous as Eli before in the whole of his three hundred and six years of life.

Thanks so much!

Arionrhod and McKay

BLURB:

In their differences, they’ll find strength—and love.

Alpha werewolf Eli Hammond returns from a fishing trip to discover a nasty surprise—five members of his pack murdered and the rest missing. He needs help locating and rescuing his pack mates, but the supernatural council in Asheville, North Carolina, turns him away.

Except for one man.

As they work together, Eli is stunned—and not especially thrilled—to discover half-elf Arden Gilmarin is his destined mate. But as Arden and his friends struggle to help Eli in his quest, Eli surrenders to the demands of his body—and his heart. They’ll need to bond together, because the forces opposing them are stronger and more sinister than anyone predicted. The evil has its sights set on Arden, and if Eli wants to save his mate and the people he is entrusted with protecting, he’s in for the fight of his life.

About Ari McKay

Ari McKay is the professional pseudonym for Arionrhod and McKay, who have been writing together for over a decade. Their collaborations encompass a wide variety of romance genres, including contemporary, fantasy, science fiction, gothic, and action/adventure. Their work includes the Blood Bathory series of paranormal novels, the Herc’s Mercs series, as well as two historical Westerns: Heart of Stone and Finding Forgiveness. When not writing, they can often be found scheming over costume designs or binge watching TV shows together.

Arionrhod is a systems engineer by day who is eagerly looking forward to (hopefully) becoming a full time writer in the not-too-distant future. Now that she is an empty-nester, she has turned her attentions to finding the perfect piece of land to build a fortress in preparation for the zombie apocalypse, and baking (and eating) far too many cakes.

McKay is an English teacher who has been writing for one reason or another most of her life. She also enjoys knitting, reading, cooking, and playing video games. She has been known to knit in public. Given she has the survival skills of a gnat, she’s relying on Arionrhod to help her survive the zombie apocalypse.

CONTACTS:

Parker Williams on Characters, Writing and his new release ‘Runner’ from Dreamspinner Press (guest blog and excerpt)

Runner by Parker Williams
Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: Reese Dante

Runner sales links:

Dreamspinner Press Amazon | iTunes | Kobo

 

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to host Parker Williams here today.  We asked Parker to talk about his writing and the character in his latest story, Runner. Welcome, Parker

✒︎

Q Would the author act the same as his main character in the story? Did that help write the story?

The simple answer to this question is no, I wouldn’t act the same as the main character. Of course, I’ve never dealt with the level of trauma that Matt does, and everything he goes through is a product of my imagination. There are some similarities between us, though.

His favorite book is My Side of the Mountain. When I was a kid, I devoured that book so many times that I had a dog-eared copy of it, too. Matt lives alone in the woods, a good distance from people. I’d love to do that, as long as it allowed me to continue writing. And Matt isn’t good with people. Neither am I. I prefer to stay insulated, especially from groups. I tried twice to go to GRL, and even though a lot of the people that were there I consider friends, I just couldn’t bring myself to go out in public. Fortunately, a few of them stopped in to see me. And I got to visit with K.C. Wells, so that was a huge bonus.

For me, the story was easy to write. Matt walked me through the entire process, telling me how he’d behave, what triggers he had for his PTSD and OCD, and guided me from the point where he was fearful of everyone, to grudgingly learning to accept the presence of the Runner on his property. From there, it was a cakewalk…. Well, for me. Matt? Not so much. He’s got a lot of issues to deal with, and he’s got to confront things that have been holding him back.

I hope that people who read the book will find Matt and Charlie to be an interesting couple, because they both (especially Charlie) hold a special place in my heart.

“SO THEN the detective says, ‘I knew you were guilty the day you walked into my office. The stench dripped from you like so much rotting garbage.’ And the killer says, ‘Then why did you take the case?’ And Tremaine answers, ‘Because I needed to find evidence that you were guilty, so I could have you arrested for murdering your brother. Basically you paid to have me get you put on death row.’”

I was hooked on his words. I had never heard of his books, but now I wanted to know more. I glanced down at my watch and realized I had been sitting with him on my porch for nearly three hours. I’d never spent that much time with any other person after the incident. And I didn’t feel freaked out by his presence. After seeing him every day, he’d somehow become a fixture, and that desperate need to keep order in my life had somehow come to include him. I wasn’t ready to let him into my home, but I found I didn’t mind talking to him so much.

“Wow,” I said, knowing that it wasn’t nearly what I meant.

“You’ve seriously never read one of my books?” He seemed amused.

“No. I… I don’t get out much.”

He chuckled. “I’m teasing you. My niche is pretty small, but if you like mysteries….”

“I do love to read,” I admitted.

“If you give me your email, I’ll send you copies. I mean, if you think they’re worth reading.”

RUNNER by Parker Williams

Blurb:

Matt Bowers’s life ended at sixteen, when a vicious betrayal by someone who he should have been able to trust left him a shell of himself, fighting OCD and PTSD, living in constant fear and always running. When he buys a remote tract of land, he thinks he’s found the perfect place to hide from the world and attempt to establish some peace. For ten years he believes he’s found a measure of comfort, until the day a stranger begins to run on Matt’s road.

He returns every day, an unwelcome intrusion into Matt’s carefully structured life. Matt appeals to the local sheriff, who cannot help him since the jogger is doing nothing wrong. Gradually, after tentatively breaking the ice, Matt begins to accept the man’s presence—

But when the runner doesn’t show up one day, it throws Matt’s world into chaos and he must make the hardest decision of his life.

****

Excerpt:

I COULDN’T find it within myself to talk to him for the first four days. I kept hoping he’d stop running by and my life would go back to normal. I should have known better. Ever since the incident, nothing went the way I expected it to. I continued to watch him, and I had to admit, the apprehension that coursed through me had eased. He didn’t really frighten me anymore, but the thought of talking to him filled me with dread. What made it worse for me? He’d continued to glance toward the house, and if he saw me, he’d give a smile or a little wave.

No, I wasn’t being honest. After a few weeks of him waving, I had actually started to weave that into my daily routine. I stood in front of the window, looking out at the road every day at ten thirty. One day it rained, and he was thirteen minutes late. I went into panic mode, hyperventilating and pacing around the house, chastising myself. How had he become a part of my world? Why did I now depend on him to be where I expected him to be? I grew angry with myself for that. Despite the pleading I’d done with Clay, I no longer wanted the man to stop running by my house now that I’d grown used to seeing him.

And worse, when he waved, I had started waving back.”

****

Categories: Romance, Gay Romance, Contemporary

—-

About the Author

Parker Williams believes that true love exists, but it always comes with a price. No happily ever after can ever be had without work, sweat, and tears that come with melding lives together.

Living in Milwaukee, Wisconsin with his husband of a quarter century, Parker continues to believe and writes stories where there is (almost) always a happy ending.

Connect with Parker on:

Twitter: @ParkerWAuthor

Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/parker.williams.75641

Or you can visit his website: http://www.ParkerWilliamsAuthor.com

Julia Talbot on Rodeo, Wrangler Butts, and her release ‘Sparkle and Shine’ (author guest post)

Sparkle and Shine (Spurs & Saddles) by Julia Talbot

Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: L.C. Chase

Available for Purchase at Dreamspinner Press

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to have Julia Talbot here today talking about why she loves rodeos, cowboys and her latest release Sparkle and Shine! Welcome back, Julia!

♦︎

What is it about the rodeo, anyway?

Hey, y’all! I’m Julia Talbot, and I’m here to talk about a favorite story of mine called Sparkle and Shine. Dreamspinner is being kind enough to rerelease it for me, and I’m so tickled I might have a feather up my—Ahem. Right.

Sparkle and Shine is about Brock and Evan, who are best friends and rodeo partners. They’re dealing with a little girl, a vengeful rodeo princess, and a general lack of funds. They’re also admitting they might be more than friends.

I a rodeo fan. Not as much of a super fan as I used to be, just because I’m old and don’t like to sit outside in the heat as much as I did even ten years ago. I’m also a pagan, politically liberal, organic foods girl. So I have a lot of friends who ask, “What is it about the rodeo, anyway? Why do you like it?”

The obvious answer is cowboys. Not just Wrangler butts. The whole deal, hat to boots and all of the dirt that goes with them. Cowboys are a breed of men who take no guff but will give you the shirt off their back. They’ll start a fight in a bar over any stupid thing, then turn around and dive into a raging river to save a drowning calf. In short, cowboys are a lot like me: living with a foot in two worlds.

See, my mom came from cowboy folks. I would say she was a cowboy, despite leaving home at 18 to see the world in the Army. My dad was a farmer’s kid from the deep South, but he went West as soon as he could, and he loved the rodeo and cowboy culture as much as my mom.

I grew up in New Mexico and Colorado. I knew horse ranchers and rodeo people, Native American ranchers and transplanted Texans. Rodeo honors their way of life, and celebrates their skills. It also allows them to honor the animals they work with every day. If you’ve ever seen a roping horse dancing to be given his head behind the barrier… yeah. They love to work.

Like anything in life, there are some issues I have problems with, but I can honestly say that these guys will try to understand those issues. My father in law is a Texas cowboy all the way, and he works hard to find common ground with me and my wife, even if he really doesn’t get us all the time. He’s a roper, by the way. He thinks roughstock cowboys like bronc riders and bull riders are just a tiny bit trashy.

So, yeah, rodeo is a celebration of culture for me. Mine, my family’s, my family by marriage.

The Wrangler butts aren’t bad, either.

Blurb:

All that glitters is not gold. No-frills cowboy Evan learned that lesson the hard way while married to a rodeo princess, a relationship that was all flash and no substance. At least Evan held on to his daughter, Cheyenne, and his best friend, Brooks, when the sparkle wore off and things fell apart. Life could be a lot worse.

But it could also be better… if Evan and Brooks took a step beyond friendship. Just as they start to explore their feelings, Evan’s ex-wife sticks her nose in to sabotage them. Suddenly everything is up in the air, and they have difficult choices to make about the rodeo, Cheyenne, and the romance they both want so badly to pursue

First edition published by Torquere Press, November 2007.

Buy Link: https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/sparkle-and-shine-by-julia-talbot-8712-b

About the Author

Stories that leave a mark. Julia Talbot loves romance across all the genders and genres, and loves to write about people working to see past the skin they’re in to love what lies beneath. Julia Talbot lives in the great mountain and high desert Southwest, where there is hot and cold running rodeo, cowboys, and everything from meat and potatoes to the best Tex-Mex. A full time author, Julia has been published by Dreamspinner and Changeling Press among many others. She believes that everyone deserves a happy ending, so she writes about love without limits, where boys love boys, girls love girls, and boys and girls get together to get wild, especially when her crazy paranormal characters are involved. She also writes BDSM and erotic romance as Minerva Howe. Find Julia at @juliatalbot on Twitter, or at http://www.juliatalbot.com “The mountains are calling, and I must go”

www.juliatalbot.com

https://twitter.com/juliatalbot

https://www.facebook.com/juliatalbotauthor

 

New Release Tour for The Layover by Roe Horvat (special prequel to The Layover!-guest blog)

The Layover by Roe Horvat
Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: Roe Horvat

Released July 19, 2017

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to be a part of Roe Horvat’s new release tour for her story, The Layover.  She’s brought the last part of the prequel, The Swiss Experiment for our readers.  To get caught up, click on the link provided and then it’s onto The Layover!

 

The Layover

Blurb

Eight years ago, Ondro Smrek fled Slovakia and the bigotry that drove his first lover to take his own life. The demons proved impossible to outrun, though, and now, desperate for somewhere to belong, Ondro is returning to start over. During a layover in Basel, Switzerland, he meets Jamie, an American living in Scotland who is as brilliant as he is beautiful.
Jaded Ondro never would have guessed he could fall in love during a brief layover—until now. When he is put in a position to offer Jamie comfort without hope of recompense, Ondro doesn’t hesitate. Soon, he catches a glimpse of the home he longs for. But with their separation looming, confessing his feelings would only lead to pain and humiliation. Life has taught Ondro not to hope, but then, he never believed in love at first sight either.

Buy links:

Amazon: http://a.co/gYw9QUa

Dreamspinner Press |KoboGoodReads

About Roe Horvat

Queer author, storyteller & graphic designer

Roe was born in former Czechoslovakia and endured a miserable adolescence in the post-communist wasteland. Equipped with a dark sense of sarcasm, they left for Germany and later, Spain.

Finally, they settled in Sweden, where the weather is nasty but the freedom great. Roe works as a motion graphics artist, loves Jane Austen, Douglas Adams and everything in between, preferably by the fireplace with a strawberry daiquiri in hand. Roe writes contemporary romantic fiction – it conveniently balances out their real-life pragmatism.
When not hiding in the studio doing graphics, Roe can be found trolling cafés in Gothenburg, writing, and people-watching.

Get in touch with the Roe:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/roe.horvat.98

Website: https://www.roehorvat.com

The Swiss Experiment

Prequel to The Layover

#6

(for #1-5 visit https://www.roehorvat.com)

The stranger didn’t go away—quite the opposite. He just stood there and calmly observed as Jamie flailed and floundered. Jamie held onto his cigarette and stared at the orange tip glowing in the night as if it could suddenly equip him with magical conversational skills or even better, teleport him miles away in a flash.

“Then back to the US?” the guy asked continuing his inquiry about Jamie’s final destination, confident and undeterred.

“No, I live in Scotland,” Jamie elaborated, grimaced, and sighed. The stranger’s interest had Jamie knotting up inside. His stomach clenched, and he felt a shadow of a headache pass behind his eyes. He needed to get to the hotel and lie down. Don’t look at him. “I’m sorry, man. I’m not in the mood,” Jamie lied, trying to appear uninterested.

He was very interested. It frustrated and scared him. He pressed the cigarette in the ashtray with more force than necessary and braved one more, quick glance at the man. And felt immediately naked. The sight of those unusual, almost exotic features, the intense focus of those slanted, green eyes…it accelerated his heartbeat and not in a pleasant way. Abort. Disengage.

Several seconds went by. Jamie could feel the man’s gaze on his profile. Like lightning from a clear sky, an idea appeared, unexpected but very real. With absolute clarity, Jamie knew he could hook up with the guy tonight. The fantasy was so vivid, Jamie shuffled from foot to foot, needing to expel the sudden excess of energy. He could do it. A part of him wanted to. A tiny, muddled, beaten-up part of him grabbed at the thought like a starving man at the last half-eaten muffin on the tray. Just as the rest of him cringed at the audacity of having sex with a total stranger he’d just met at the airport. He was so not that kind of person.

“Sorry, I’m really tired.” That was true. Please, go away.

“I’m disturbing you.” The man nodded once as if agreeing with himself. His foreign accent was unfamiliar. Jamie couldn’t place it. It was something European, but not Mediterranean, nor Eastern Europe, nothing Germanic either. His r was distinct. Maybe Finnish? Or something Baltic?

“I should be apologizing, and you should continue scowling,” the stranger continued, a smile in his voice.

That was… What? Jamie laughed briefly, surprising himself with the sound. The tall, wiry stranger was clever. From the corner of his eye, Jamie noticed a tanned hand with clean, neatly cut nails, elegant fingers and protruding veins. No jewelry. Just practicality, capability and masculine strength. There was character in those hands.

Focus! Cab. Hotel. Bed. Home tomorrow.

“I should get a cab,” Jamie mumbled. Go, just go. Don’t think about it.

He nodded to himself and tugged on his luggage with force. It rolled forward, straining the muscles in his arm and shoulder. Jamie almost stumbled on the curb but kept going. He couldn’t look at the man’s face anymore. “It was nice meeting you,” he blurted, reaching for anything normal to say. There was no answer.

The taxi driver greeted him half-heartedly, reluctantly helping with Jamie’s bags. All the time, Jamie could feel the green-eyed stranger watching him.

Unable to stop himself, he looked back once more. The tall figure in the white shirt and dark grey coat stood directly under a bright white light. In the misty drizzle, with the water-stained glass walls of the terminal behind him, looming and watching… he looked like a noir villain. Jamie banged the car door shut.

To continue reading, follow: https://www.facebook.com/roe.horvat.98

The Swiss Experiment #7 concludes July 25.

*The blog tour is a short prequel to The Layover, in 7 parts, titled The Swiss Experiment. This guest post is part 6 of the prequel.

 

 

 

Lynn Lorenz on Writing, Influences and her latest New Orleans story, New Orleans Second Lines (author interview)

New Orleans Second Lines by Lynn Lorenz
Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: AngstyG

Available at Dreamspinner Press

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to have Lynn Lorenz here today answering questions and talking about writing and her influences…welcome, Lynn!

✒︎

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words Interview with Lynn Lorenz

Thanks to STRW for letting me blog today about my new release from Dreamspinner Press, New Orleans Second Lines!

I’m going to answer a few questions about reading and writing…here goes!

Has your choice of childhood or teenage reading genres carried into your own choices for writing?  Did you read romances, as a teenager and as an adult?

            I’m probably one of those few romance writers who didn’t really grow up reading romance. In fact, I didn’t start reading romance until I started writing it.

            As a young teen, I lived in my local library (Nix Library in New Orleans). Because it was small, I’d read through the “kiddie” book section about the age of 12-13. My mother had to give permission for me to take out books in the adult fiction section—books by writers like Mary Stewart, Shirley Jackson, and Daphne Du Maurier. I suppose these fell sort of in the romance genre, but back in those days, the most anyone got was a kiss. All the doors were shut and we could only imagine what happened behind them.

            But what I really liked in all of those stories was the edge of mystery in them. So I moved on to full bore mystery—classics writers like Agatha Christie, Arthur Conan Doyle, Elizabeth George, and Dorothy Sayers. I still love watching those British mystery series on Netflix.

            In my college years, I devoured horror, Stephen King, H.P. Lovecraft, Robin Cook, to name a few.

(Notice: No Barbara Cartland or Nora Roberts. In fact, to this day, I’ve never read one of their novels and please don’t ask me about major authors, I don’t really know any.)

            Then I had kids, and couldn’t read horror anymore, so I started on a few true crime stories, and more of the detective novels. I loved police procedural writers like Tony Hillerman, James Dos, and Faye Kellerman, mostly because they delved into cultures not my own.

            I really didn’t read much fantasy, although I did read some paranormal like Interview with a Vampire when it came out, mostly because…New Orleans. Of course, during high school, I read classics like Frankenstein and Dracula, but perhaps I was too young to fully appreciate them.

            My mother turned me onto Robert Benchley’s humor, which was so like her own. I read Fannie Flagg, of Fried Green Tomatoes fame. Love her southern humor!

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

           I wrote a lot as a teen and in college. English was my minor and I also wrote poetry, angsty stuff about boyfriends, etc. I think what influenced me the most is a mix of elements like mystery, detective stories, humor and gothic romance.

             I learned how to write men by reading James Dos’s Charlie Moon, Hillerman’s Jim Chee and Joe Leaphorn, Kellerman’s Peter Decker, and a few other writers who got it right. But mostly by being around men my entire life. I worked in my father’s construction and electrical company, had jobs on worksites, wore a hard hat and listened to the guys and how they talked to each other.

           What was missing was…the sex.

           When I was about 40-45, I got bored reading what I’d been reading. Maybe it was a mid-life crisis, but I wanted books with sex. I remember asking my hubs if he had any sci-fi or fantasy books (he reads them exclusively) that had sex. He just laughed. “Nerdy scientists write these books. There’s no sex. Why don’t you write your own story?”

            So I did. The very first novel I wrote was what became The Avalon Patrol, and later became Majik Reborn, Majik Betrayed, and Majik Redeemed. I created a world where majik existed, and so did a police force (inspectors) who used majik to fight crime. It sprawled. I had no idea what I was doing. When it hit 250k I broke Word. Hubs finally told me I was writing a trilogy. So I found where the story broke and divided it up. But this story was a het romance, because…sex. My protags had sex; no closed doors for me! I wrote about six novels, all het romance, sort of thinking about publication.

            When I discovered gay romance something clicked. Suddenly, I realized why my male characters had so much..er…sexual tension between them. They were always one move from kissing or killing each other. My heroines weren’t exactly Mary Sues—I had to learn to write strong females and once I did, I started publishing those stories.

            So I took all of the elements I love to read, and rolled them up into what I call my style. Humor for sure. Mystery. Perhaps some crime. But mostly hot as hell men who love each other and will do anything to get to their HEA.

Do you like HFN or HEA? And why?

            HEA—it’s the only thing I write, especially when I’m writing gay romance. For my het stuff, which I write under Theodora Lane for anyone who wants to check them out, I’ll occasionally go for a HFN.

           When my kids asked me why I write gay romance I told them, because everyone deserves to have a happily ever after. I told them about friends I had when I was in high school and college, wonderful people whom I loved, but who didn’t see a HEA in their futures. I explained no one should be denied it because of who they love. To me, writing gay romance is a way to reach hearts and minds. If I can open one person’s heart and mind to love with no boundaries, I’ve done my job.

            My two tag lines for Lynn Lorenz are Everyone Deserves a Happily Ever After and Open Your Heart and Open Your Mind.

            For Theodora Lane, it’s Step Into Her Worlds.

            I hope readers who haven’t read my writing will take a chance and try something new. And this book, New Orleans Second Line, is a great place to start! For readers who know me, I hope you enjoy something familiar, second time around.

More About New Orleans Second Lines

Matt and Lane grew up together, best friends, sharing almost all their secrets. But on the last day of college, those secrets spilled in one night of passion and tore them apart, sending Matt to the West Coast and Lane home to New Orleans.

Now, Hurricane Katrina is set to destroy New Orleans. This might be the worst time to try for a second chance, but nothing can keep Matt from Lane. The man he let get away.

For Lane, no hurricane can pry him from the city, especially without Sebastian. The older man has been a dear friend and his landlord since Lane returned from college. Sebastian refuses to flee, preferring to stay in his Creole cottage in the French Quarter and ride out the storm.

Sebastian’s life becomes intertwined with Lane’s, as Matt finds out when he’s drawn into capturing Sebastian’s memoirs of being gay in New Orleans. The elder gentleman’s stories are full of surprises and lessons for the young men.

The most important ones Sebastian teaches them—and himself—are that second chances don’t come along often, and you’re never too old to fall in love.

 

About the Author

Lynn Lorenz is an award-winning and best-selling author who grew up in New Orleans but currently lives in Texas, where she’s a fan of all things Texan, like Longhorns, big hair, and cowboys in tight jeans. She’s never met a comma she didn’t like, and enjoys editing and brainstorming with other writers. Lynn spends most of her time writing about hot sex with even hotter heroes, plot twists, werewolves, and medieval swashbucklers. She’s currently at work on her latest book, making herself giggle and blush, and avoiding all the housework.

 

Also by Lynn Lorenz:

David’s Dilemma by Lynn Lorenz

When is it the wrong time to find Mr. Right? For David, that time is now. He’s caring for his homophobic father, who has Alzheimer’s, and his personal life is the last thing he has time to focus on. But when his father wanders off, David is forced to reach out to the police, in the person of Detective Travis Hart. Travis is gay, tired of the club life and twinks he can’t keep up with, and longs for a real relationship with a man who wants the same—maybe someone remarkable like David. In fact, David is exactly who he has been looking for, but Travis isn’t sure he can be the man David needs during this difficult time.

Because as David’s father sinks deeper into the disease that’s robbing him of his memories, David really needs a friend, not a lover. Though Travis is determined to support David in whatever way he can, David’s decision could lead both men into a situation with no possibility of a happy resolution.

https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/davids-dilemma-by-lynn-lorenz-8012-b

https://www.amazon.com/Davids-Dilemma-Lynn-Lorenz-ebook/dp/B01NGZ9YB4

In Our Spotlight: The City of Rocks (A BJ Vinson Mystery #3) by Don Travis

The City of Rocks (A BJ Vinson Mystery #3) by Don Travis
DSP Publications
Cover Artist: Maria Fanning

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to host Don Travis today, here with a new BJ Vinson Mystery, The City of Rocks.  Welcome, Don.

 

 

Many thanks to Stella and Melanie at Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words for hosting this guest post, the third they’ve been kind enough to publish. This one is for The City of Rocks, the third in the BJ Vinson Mystery Series. The first two were for The Zozobra Incident and The Bisti Business. Get ready, Stella and Melanie, The Lovely Pines is coming down the road next March, and Abaddon’s Locusts is burning up my desk top. May I also give a tip of the hat to DSPP, my publisher.

They tell me I’m now supposed to bore you with a few facts about me. Okay, here goes. I’m an Okie who contracted tuberculosis at the tender age of six years, which meant I grew up thinking I couldn’t do what other youngsters my age usually did. Therefore, I took refuge in a library. I was a 100-pound private in the army toting a machine gun up and down the mountains of southern Germany when I discovered I could do anything any other GI could do, but by that time It was too late. My life was cast. I was hooked on reading. I turned to painting to satisfy a creative urge but ultimately returned to penning short stories… and then novels.

I do a weekly blog about my writing and recounting some of my personal peccadillos on dontravis.com. A member of SouthWest Writers, I give back to the community by teaching a free writing class at Albuquerque’s North Domingo Baca Multigenerational Center.

City’s blurb reads as follows: investigator B. J. Vinson thinks it’s a bad joke when Del Dahlman asks him to look into the theft of a duck… a duck named Quacky Quack the Second and insured for $250,000. It ceases to be funny when the young thief dies in a suspicious truck wreck. The search leads BJ and his lover, Paul Barton, to the sprawling Lazy M Ranch in the Boot Heel country of southwestern New Mexico bordering the Mexican state of Chihuahua.

A deadly game unfolds when BJ and Paul are trapped in a weird rock formation known as the City of Rocks—an eerie array of frozen magma that is somehow at the center of the entire scheme. But does the theft of Quacky involve a quarter-million-dollar duck-racing bet between the ranch’s owner and a Miami real estate developer, or someone attempting to force the sale of the Lazy M because of its proximity to an unfenced portion of the Mexican border? BJ and Paul go from the City of Rocks to the neon lights of Miami and back again in pursuit of the answer… death and danger tracking their every step.

For a look at the book, I chose a scene in Chapter 17 where BJ and Paul take a horseback ride out to the Lazy M’s City of Rocks. This is Paul’s first visit to the Boot Heel ranch abutting the Mexican state of Chihuahua. We pick up the scene when they first spot the formation.

*****

“Is that it?”

“Yep. The Lazy M’s own City of Rocks.”

“Man, that looks weird out there all by itself. Even weirder than the big one up at the state park.”

“New Mexico’s full of weird. You think you’re standing on the moon at the Bisti Badlands. And then there’s Carlsbad Caverns, Tent Rocks, White Sands, and those eerie lava beds in the Malpais.”

“I gotta get out of Bernalillo County more often,” he said.

We went silent, falling increasingly under the spell of ghostly monoliths as we approached the City. The horses plodded between the first two hunks of mute rock on the north-northwest side. The “street” that opened up before us was a broad avenue strangely devoid of plant growth. I saw no human footprints, but wind whistling through the alleyways raised weak, wispy dust devils. Footprints in the sand would not last long out here. Our mounts’ hooves no longer clopped; now they made a huffing sound. We could have passed through a portal separating two worlds.

“That big boulder in front of us looks like a hotel. An old western hotel.”

I stared at the hulking mass. “Why? It’s just a big rock.”

“Come on, where’s your imagination? It’s a couple of stories high. It’s kinda square. It looks like those pictures of a frontier hotel minus the balcony that runs around the second story. And that’s Muldren City’s saloon over there.” He pointed to the right.

I fell into the spirit of the thing. “Okay, then that’s the bank. And the telegraph office.”

He laughed, obviously delighted I played along. “Let’s go see if we can find the freight office. Then the town’s complete.”

“Oh no. Not without the jail, it isn’t.”

“Right. I forgot the sheriff’s office and the jailhouse.” He twisted in the saddle and pointed. “There it is, right across the square from the hotel.” Paul dismounted and looked for a place to tether Streak. “They forgot the hitching rail. No western town’s complete without a hitching post.”

He tied his reins to the only bit of green in sight, a small mesquite bush. “Hope that holds. I’d hate to walk back to the ranch house.”

I joined him on the ground and dubiously tethered Lucy to the same puny plant. While he scrambled up the side of the “hotel,” I searched for evidence of human habitation.

“Watch out for snakes,” he yelled, already out of sight atop the boulder.

In a natural alleyway at the side of the jailhouse, I found impressions like miniature buffalo wallows. The small lane was sheltered from the worst of the wind. People had rested here, smoothing out the dust and dirt to make a bed, probably for an overnight stay. A pile of debris and tumbleweeds lay against the end of the small passage where the rock walls met again. I nudged the garbage with my boot… all food related: greasy sandwich or tortilla wraps and crumpled Styrofoam containers for coffee or posole.

The human coyotes probably hid illegal immigrants here while they stocked up on water from the windmill in the distance. Then, before the morning light came, they would spirit their charges across the desert onto the highway where someone waited to pick them up. A natural—and obvious—spot. I was willing to bet the smugglers had not remained with their human cargo during that long, anxious wait. They probably camped somewhere in the near vicinity, realizing the Border Patrol would be aware of the City’s potential for hiding illegal aliens and other contraband.

A muffled shout from Paul drew me out of the mental drama playing out in my head. I walked back to the plaza but found no sign of him.

“Vince,” he said from above me. I looked up to find him squatting atop the hotel. “There are people out there.”

“Where?”

“Walking across the hardpan. I think they’re headed here.”

“Keep out of sight. I’m coming up.”

He guided me to a fold in the rock that provided easy toeholds. When I pulled myself to the top, he lay prone, holding his hat in front of him to shade his eyes. “There’s ten, fifteen dudes out there. All on foot.”

I lay on my belly beside him and looked where he pointed. The distant figures walked one behind the other, Indian style. The column spread out like a military unit. I wished for my binoculars. The man in front carried something I thought to be an automatic rifle. As we watched, he turned south, heading directly for the City. Two of the men separated and made north toward the windmill. The group probably planned on remaining here overnight.

I rolled onto my back and took out my cell phone. Dialing 911 reached the emergency operator, who put me in contact with the Border Patrol in Deming. Within a minute I was speaking to an agent named Ramirez. He heard my report and ordered me to get out of there—without being seen, if possible. As I turned to tell Paul to get back to the horses, he grunted.

“Uh-oh. They got company.”

Two mounted outriders came in from the east, passing on either side of the column and halting to speak with the point man. After a brief conversation, they galloped straight for the City.

*****

As you can imagine, their casual, exploratory horseback ride rapidly becomes deadly.

Here are some links to me and my writing:

  • Blog: dontravis.com
  • Email: dontravis21gmail.com
  • Facebook: dontravis
  • Twitter: @dontravis3

And here are DSP Publications buy links:

Thanks again Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words!

Andrew Grey on Inspiration and his new release ‘Fire and Fog’ (guest blog and exclusive except)

Fire and Fog (Carlisle Cops #6) by Andrew Grey
Dreamspinner Press
Cover art by L.C. Chase

Release Date: July 7 2017

Purchase Links

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Dreamspinner Press

 

 

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to host Andrew Grey on his Fire and Fog Blog Tour. Welcome, Andrew!

 

♦︎

The Carlisle Cops series is close to my heart.  It takes place in the town where I live, but each story also comes from a local news story in some way.  Every now and then a story in the news will really piss me off for some reason.  Usually these stories involve children in some way, either that or someone who’s hurting, being hurt more.  Those stories I file away and then make an appearance in these stories.  This story is no exception.  There was a local story about rent scams that I saw.  People were taking advantage of the poor who had no resources to know better.  Scams in general piss me off, but those on the people with the least to loose make me angry.  So I included that story line in Fire and Fog.  I really hope you enjoy the story as much as I liked telling it.

 

Blurb/Synopsis

Carlisle police officer Dwayne knows what Robin is doing the moment he lays eyes on the young man at Bronco’s club. But he doesn’t know that, like him, Robin also comes from a family who cast him out for being gay, or that he’s still lugging around the pain of that rejection. Robin leaves the club, and soon after Dwayne decides to as well—and is close by when things between Robin and his client turn violent.

When Dwayne finds out Robin is the victim of a scam that lost him his apartment, he can’t leave Robin to fend for himself on the streets. Despite Dwayne’s offer of help and even opening up his home, it’s hard for Robin to trust anything good. The friendship between them grows, and just as the two men start warming up to each other, Robin’s sister passes away, naming Robin to care for her son. Worse yet, their pasts creep back in to tear down the family and sense of belonging both of them long for.

Will their fledgling romance dissipate like fog in the sun before it has a chance to burn bright?

The capitol complex shone like a beacon, and Dwayne headed in that direction. Light meant safety, and this wasn’t a familiar neighborhood for him. There were others on the street, some couples walking close together. It was a great summer night to be outside. He walked a block or so, the beat from the club still pulsing through the ground at his feet.

“That’s not what—” a voice called. Dwayne listened for more. “No!” Fear spiked the air, and Dwayne was on alert, listening for where the sound had come from. He heard the rip of fabric between passing cars. “I said no!” The voice got louder, and Dwayne picked up his pace.

“I paid and you’re going to put out.”

Dwayne reached the alley entrance, stopped, and peered around the corner. A huge guy stood near a dingy brick wall. It was hard to see, but Dwayne could just make out another man pressed to the brick, the side of his face against the unyielding wall.

“That’s enough.”

“Get out of here. He and I have business,” the guy growled.

Dwayne stepped closer, ready for action. “You need to leave now!” He used his cop voice and saw the guy flinch. He might be big, but as Dwayne got a closer look, he saw the beer gut and flabby arms. This guy probably was used to throwing his weight around, but there really wasn’t much to him.

“Fuck off. I paid and I’m getting my money’s worth.”

“So you’re admitting to soliciting someone for sex… to a police officer. That makes my job very easy.” Dwayne pulled out his phone, and the lug took a step back and then ran the other way. Well, he sort of waddled fast, but the response was the one Dwayne wanted. He made sure the guy was gone and then helped the smaller man, who had crumpled to the alley floor.

“It’s all right. He’s gone.” Dwayne lifted the guy, who wasn’t verbally responding, off the concrete and carried him out to where there was more light. As soon as the glow from the street shone on golden hair, Dwayne knew who it was.

“Robin.” He caressed his cheek, and Robin groaned. Dwayne set him down and waited for the shock to wear off. “You want to tell me what happened?”

Robin managed to stand and rubbed the side of his face, then pulled the remains of his tattered shirt together. “No.”

“I’ve got a pretty good idea already.” Dwayne half expected Robin to try to bolt, but instead he just shook, and Dwayne held him upright. “Let me guess. For all the bravado, this was the first time you’ve done anything like this.”

“Shit… I can take care of myself.” The defiance was back, and Dwayne was glad Robin was able to manage it, even if he knew it was all just a front.

“Like you did back there.” He wasn’t in the mood for nice at the moment. “I’m not dumb. I know what you were doing and what nearly happened. So you can tell me about it, or I can call some friends of mine and you can talk to them about prostitution.”

“You’re a real jerk, you know that?” Robin’s stomach rumbled loudly, and he put his hands over it as though it ached.

“No. The jerk was the guy in the alley. I’m the man who saved your ass from God knows what.” Dwayne saw some of the fire go out of Robin’s eyes. “And you’re acting defensive to the guy who saved your ass, quite literally, from what was about to happen. So I think you can open up and tell me what’s really going on.”

Robin quivered once again. “I was about to leave the club because I wasn’t going to get anything in there. Too many people watching. That guy approached me and asked if I was up for a little fun. We left and he paid me fifty bucks. I figured I could blow him as long as I was careful, but it turned out he wanted more than that, and I wasn’t going to give it to him, so he was planning to take what he wanted anyway.” Robin sniffed. “He stank and shuffled all the time, like he might have been sick or something, but fifty bucks will feed me for like two weeks. And….”

“How long has it been since you ate?” Dwayne asked.

“I don’t know. Probably yesterday.” Robin suddenly seemed even smaller and weaker. Dwayne knew he should be a little ashamed, but Robin’s vulnerability seemed to make him more attractive.

“Come on, then.” Dwayne guided Robin down the block to the corner. “There’s a diner just that way. We can get something to eat and then you can tell me what’s really going on.”

About the Author

Andrew grew up in western Michigan with a father who loved to tell stories and a mother who loved to read them. Since then he has lived throughout the country and traveled throughout the world. He has a master’s degree from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and works in information systems for a large corporation.

Andrew’s hobbies include collecting antiques, gardening, and leaving his dirty dishes anywhere but in the sink (particularly when writing)  He considers himself blessed with an accepting family, fantastic friends, and the world’s most supportive and loving partner. Andrew currently lives in beautiful, historic Carlisle, Pennsylvania.

Author Links

Amazon Author Page

Barnes and Noble Page

Dreamspinner Press

Facebook

Facebook Group All the Way with Andrew Grey

Goodreads

Twitter @andrewgreybooks

Website

For Other Works by Andrew Grey

(Please Be Sure To Stop by His Website to See All of His Works)

The ones listed below is for the Carlisle Cops Only

Fire and Water (1)

Fire and Ice (2)

Fire and Rain (3)

Fire and Snow (4)

Fire and Hail (5)

Fire and Fog (6)

Leigh Carman on Tour for her Players of LA and ‘Two-Man Advantage’ (exclusive excerpt)

Two-Man Advantage (Players of LA #3) by Leigh Carman
Dreamspinner Press

Available for Purchase at

Amazon

iBooks

Kobo

B&N-

Dreamspinner

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to  host Leigh Carman today on her Two-Man Advantage tour.  She’s brought along an exclusive excerpt for everyone to enjoy!

 

Blurb

A hockey star skating on the edge of a catastrophe.

A PR specialist so adept, he’s called “the Fixer.”

Working together will be the biggest challenge of both their careers.

The LA Vikings hockey team is fed up the violent outbursts of its huge, intimidating enforcer, Viktor Novak. Hounded by a homophobic and domineering father, Viktor takes out his frustrations by spilling blood—on and off the ice. Now he has one last chance to clean up his image, or his career is over.

That’s where Bowen Miller comes in.

Bo has taken on the hardest cases and succeeded—by micromanaging every aspect of a client’s life—at the expense of his own happiness. But in the stubborn, hot mess that is Viktor, Bo might have met his match—both in and out of the bedroom. One man is out of control, and one controls everything. But when sex and attraction come into play, those roles are open to negotiation.

Exclusive Excerpt

Vik and Bo’s first encounter

Bo

When Vik doesn’t move, I take a closer look. I know what I’m seeing; I just don’t believe it. No fucking way. His lightly stubbled face is flushed, nostrils flaring wide. His light blue irises are nearly gone, eclipsed by enormous dark pupils. Vik’s full red lips are slick, and I can see the restraint in his clenched jaw, his twitching muscles, all of them jumping as he fights his primal urges.

He wants me. Viktor Novak wants me.

“That picture in your office,” Vik says, his voice a low, seductive rumble that vibrates straight to my cock. “The one of the football player, Van Archer.”

Wait, what?

Now I’m the one who tenses up, once again ready for a fight with the exhausting Viktor Novak. Maybe what I’m reading as desire on Vik’s face is actually hostility. Maybe I’m only seeing what I want to see when in reality, there’s nothing there.

“What about it?”

“He’s gay.”

“He is,” I answer, bracing myself for an almighty argument.

Vik nods. He begins to say something, and then his mouth snaps shut as he hesitates. More curious than cautious, Vik presses on. “Are you?”

“Does it matter?” I snap, every one of my defenses at the ready. It’s no secret I’m gay. I don’t hide my sexuality, but I don’t announce it when I meet people either. If Vik wants to come at me, he’s going to get a knockdown, drag-out fight.

Vik shifts closer, splaying an immense hand on the stone countertop on either side of my waist. Intimidated by his sheer size and proximity, the fight drains out of me, and I lean back, the unforgiving granite pressing painfully into the base of my spine, making me acutely aware that this man has the ability to hurt me quite seriously any time he chooses. The fact that he could so easily dominate me physically unexpectedly turns me on so much my dick is suddenly harder than the granite surface I’m trapped against.

What the hell? I dominate, I don’t submit. So why am I rock hard and leaking like a faucet at the thought of Vik overpowering me?

“It matters to me,” Vik murmurs, his gaze dropping to my mouth before returning to my eyes.

The way Vik answers allows me to exhale, letting go of some of my fear. My initial assumption was correct. The man before me isn’t angry, he’s… hopeful.

I inhale a shaky breath and swallow. “Yes. I’m gay.”

For the briefest of seconds, Vik’s gaze widens, and a spark of desire flashes in his bright blue eyes. Then so many things happen at once, I have no time to process it all. Vik’s heavy lids drop to half-mast and he closes the remaining space between us, pressing the hot, hard length of his body against mine. Two strong, masculine hands grip either side of my head, fingers long enough to curl around the base of my skull, and Viktor Novak, star hockey player and noted brawler, lowers his face to mine and kisses me.

Sensory overload hits, and I’m frozen in place. Hot skin covered in tattoos, the faint taste of mint toothpaste, the warm scent of Viktor, the feel of his rough hands on my clean-shaven face—all of it combines to render me completely useless as his lips move over mine. It’s only when Viktor boldly thrusts his stiff cock against my groin, grinding it against my own rigid length as he simultaneously swipes his tongue across my mouth, that I wake up and get with the program.

Vik slides that wet tongue over my lips again, more insistent this time, and I can’t help but groan, opening my mouth as heat builds at the base of my spine. Vik takes advantage of my parted lips, immediately plunging his velvet tongue deep into my mouth. I release the countertop and wrap my hands around his backside, grabbing two big handfuls of those spectacular, rock-hard glutes, and tug him closer, smashing our erections together.

“Oh fuck,” Vik breathes against my lips. Those two little words nearly have me coming in my pants. I’ve never been so out of control in my life. The threads of reality unravel around me, spinning away as raw instinct takes over my conscious behavior. No twink hookup has ever incited this type of reaction from me. I’m wanton, willing, and completely uninhibited. Out of control. It’s frightening yet… freeing.

Viktor’s hands leave my skin, and I whimper from the loss of contact, leaning forward to chase that delicious mouth. When Vik’s thick fingers begin pawing desperately at my clothes, shoving the custom-fitted jacket down my arms to land on the floor then moving to unbutton my shirt, I realize his intentions. In a flash, I begin to eagerly assist Vik in shedding my clothes, yanking my silk tie loose and sliding it off my neck.

Halfway through undoing my dress shirt, Vik growls and loses patience with the dozen tiny pearl buttons. With one swift tug, he tears open the front of my shirt, buttons pinging off the kitchen cabinets and skittering across the hardwood floors. My cuffs are still fastened by a pair of platinum cuff links, so now my shirt is inside out, hanging from my wrists, and I can’t get my hands free. Vik either doesn’t notice or could care less. In the blink of an eye, he has my slacks unzipped, shoves his hand in, and takes my aching cock in his scorching hot palm.

“Jesus, Vik,” I rasp, my chest heaving. The touch of his hand on my dick is blistering hot and so fucking good, but much too brief. Vik lets go of my cock, and I panic. “What? Why are you—?”

My question dies in a strangled moan as I watch Vik shove down his own sweats and underwear, not even bothering to pull them all the way off. Instead he hooks them under his huge, tight sac, lines up our cocks, and wraps a calloused hand around both of our rigid lengths. Vik squeezes them together and my eyes roll back in my head. I struggle to free my arms, desperate to touch this man and his gorgeous, thick cock. Vik lets out a low growl when I fight the fabric binding my hands. His eyes flash, and quick as a whip, he reaches behind me, grabs the remains of my shirt, and twists it around his free hand until my wrists are tightly bound at the base of my spine, trapped by a pair of cuff links.

I want to struggle, to shout and kick until I can get my hands free. To demand my freedom so I can take charge of the encounter. But Vik ignores any effort I make to unbind my hands. He gives me a dark, lust-filled look and waits until I stop fighting and calm down. Once I’m still, Vik keeps his eyes locked on mine and spits obscenely into his palm before lowering it to stroke our cocks in tandem. At that moment, any fight left in me dies, superseded by the unbelievable pleasure of Viktor’s talented hand and the feel of his sculpted body against mine. It’s uncomfortable to give in to someone, to willingly let Vik overpower me, and part of me is still freaking out. My sexual partners are always smaller than me for a reason. I just can’t let go of that damn need to control everything and everyone. It’s my experience that when you have no power, you get hurt.

“Let it go,” Vik whispers as if reading my mind, all the while continuing to stare into my eyes as his hand speeds up between us. The friction of Vik’s slick, rough palm, the sensation of his smooth cock rubbing against mine, is sublime. But with the nagging need to free my hands still plaguing me, I can’t enjoy his talented touch to the fullest.

“I see your brain working to figure out how to take charge,” Vik says. He gives me a dark look, those sensual lips curling into a wicked smirk. “You can’t take control here, Bowen. I won’t let you. You can’t get away either. I have you at my mercy.” He leans in to growl in my ear. “I can do anything I want to you.” Vik’s husky, dominating voice reverberates through my body, making my cock impossibly harder. “Let go and enjoy the ride, Bowen, because I plan on blowing your goddamn mind.”

To find out what happens next, check out Two-Man Advantage

About the Author

Leigh Carman is the pen name for the M/M romances written by bestselling Contemporary romance writer, Heather C. Leigh.

She lived outside Atlanta for 15 years and recently moved to Houston with her husband, 2 kids, and French bulldog.

She is leaving explicit directions in her will for her friends to discreetly scatter her ashes around Fenway Park. Then they are to sit back, watch a game with a beer and a Fenway frank and have a wicked good time.

Twitter- @heatherleighauthor

Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/LeighCarmanAuthor/

Website – http://heathercleighauthor.com/leigh-carman-novels/

In Our New Release Spotlight: Something’s Brewing at Joe’s by S.J.D. Peterson (exclusive excerpt and giveaway)

Something’s Brewing at Joe’s by S.J.D. Peterson
Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: Reese Dante

Available for Purchase at Dreamspinner Press

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to host S.J.D. Peterson’s tour for Something’s Brewing at Joe’s.  The author has brought by an exclusive excerpt for everyone so enjoy!

 

Something’s Brewing at Joe’s

The promise of a dream job lures Murphy to Tampa, but he arrives to the rude awakening that the offer is on hold. Now he’s got two choices: slink back to Michigan with his tail between his legs or stay and look for work. Things perk up when he goes into a coffee shop and learns the owner is looking for someone to renovate the apartment above it. He happily takes the job, only later realizing he’s met Joe Sterling, Kaffeinate’s proprietor, before… when they hooked up at a club Murphy’s first night in Tampa.

Murphy and Joe are both proud, passionate, and outspoken. Neither is looking for a relationship, though they can’t deny they go together as well as coffee and doughnuts, in spite of their tempers. But that’s before Joe learns Murphy will be working for the corporation he believes is harming local businesses and the environment—and if Murphy will be supporting it, Joe wants nothing to do with him, dooming any possibility of an unexpected happy ending.

Exclusive Excerpt

When Murphy re-entered in the kitchen a few minutes later, Joe was finishing up the dishes. He looked over his shoulder at Murphy and smiled. Joe didn’t ask who Murphy had been talking to, but the curiosity was clear as day on his face.

“That was Donna Cohen from Barton Marlow Corporation.” Murphy took his seat at the island and picked up his beer. He held up the bottle. “Here’s to going from no job to two.”

“Barton Marlow Corporation?” Joe turned to lean against the counter and dried his hands as he stared strangely at Murphy. “The contracting company here in Tampa?”

“Yeah.”

“Why are they calling you?” Joe frowned.

Murphy grinned. “About my job. It’s why I’m in Tampa. I thought I was going to have to run back to Michigan with my tail between my legs. Now I won’t have to. Yay, me!” Murphy tipped back his beer and took a big gulp. He felt better about his decision than he had in days. This may just work out after all. Poor Mama, she was going to have to get used to the empty nest.

Murphy was shocked when Joe crossed his arms over his chest, his face contorted into an angry sneer. “Murphy, you are not seriously considering taking a job with BMC?”

Murphy blinked, surprised by Joe’s reaction. “Not only considering it, but have committed to it. I have to be at Calm Winds Resort at six in the morning.”

Joe gaped. “What? You do know who they are working with, don’t you? Who owns that resort?”

“Yeah, Fields, Fields, and Cohen.” Murphy frowned when Joe’s face turned an ugly shade of red. “What the hell’s wrong with you, Joe?”

Joe laughed. It sounded strangled and a little hysterical. “Oh. My. God.” Joe threw up his hands and stalked out of the room.

Murphy jumped up and followed him. “What the matter with you?”

Joe didn’t answer the question. He stomped to the front door and threw it open. “I think you should leave.”

Murphy froze. “What?”

Joe glared at him. “You heard me. You need to leave.”

“What’s got you so pissed?”

Joe scowled, his chest rising and falling rapidly. When Murphy continued to stare at him, dumbfounded, Joe pointed. “I said, get the fuck out.”

Murphy had no idea what was going on, and apparently Joe wasn’t going to clue him in. Well, that was fine. If Joe wanted to be an asshole, Murphy could be one too.

“Fuck you very much for dinner,” he spat and brushed past Joe. He jumped when the door slammed behind him. Murphy spun around and gaped at the closed door. Obviously, Joe’s unexpected rage had something to do with the company that had hired Murphy. But the fact that Joe had aimed his dislike of a company at Murphy pissed him off to no end. Not caring if Joe was watching, Murphy shot a one-finger salute toward the front door before spinning on his heel.

Murphy would finish the job he’d agreed to do at that apartment. He wasn’t going to be the same kind of asshole Joe was, even if the man deserved it. When he wasn’t working, he’d spend his free minutes and find a permanent place to stay. Screw Joe. Or rather, someone else could, because Murphy wouldn’t be touching or talking to the bastard again.

Want to know what happens next?

Check it out HERE

Meet Jo Peterson

SJD Peterson, better known as Jo, hails from Michigan. Not the best place to live for someone who hates the cold and snow. When not reading or writing, Jo can be found close to the heater checking out NHL stats and watching the Red Wings kick a little butt. Can’t cook, misses the clothes hamper nine out of ten tries, but is handy with power tools.

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Giveaway

The author is graciously giving away one copy of any ebook copy from her back list to one lucky reader.  Leave a comment along with your email address where you can be reached if chosen.  Must be 18 years of age to enter.  Giveaway ends July 8th at midnight.