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

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

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

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

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

Amidst the horrors of war, can Aaron rediscover hope?

Warnings: Violence, Drug Abuse, Depression, Explicit Sex

About the Series:

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

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

Get It On Amazon

Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Author Bio

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

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

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

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

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

Review: Find Me Worthy (Safe Harbor #3) by Annabeth Albert

Rating: 3.75🌈

So close. Find Me Worthy was so close to being an absolutely 5-Star story when the author , imo, sabotaged it by adding on an epilogue that negatively changed my view about the book , it felt so unnecessary.

But first let’s look at what Albert does remarkably well, and that’s everything that goes on beforehand.

Safe Harbor has dealt with a central question of a dead file mystery case was solved when it turned out that the local popular mother of the community who went missing years ago had been murdered by a serial killer. Her body was discovered in the nearby body of water by former police officer, brought up by a recovery diver, and the crime along with the discovery was part of an investigation led by a popular crime podcast.

All that information is part of the series themes and an integral part of the men involved in the investigation and as victims of the original crime itself. Some were once close friends and now others have become, through the investigation, partners of these men who live in Safe Harbor.

The reader , through the descriptions and memories of the men, become part of their journey to resolve the mystery and work through their own issues as well. It’s been a moving, and sometimes tearful journey. Albert has done a spectacular job with the town, the professions of each person, in some cases their disabilities, and the traits that make each man a unique individual.

Now we get to the finale. There’s the two strong main characters. Sam Bookman, owner of Blessed Bean coffee shop, son of a pastor and a hearing impaired mother, a social worker who’s the heart of Safe Harbor.

Sam has always had a huge crush on older Worth Stapleton, whose mother was murdered by a serial killer and in whose family house Sam bought and now lives.

Worth always thought his father was guilty of his mother’s death and told him so before he died. He’s been absent from Safe Harbor for decades, until a business scandal cost him everything and his mother’s death was resolved. The Worth we meet is ill, highly depressed, with nothing but an incredibly expensive car to his name and an unexpected desire to return home.

Which he does. But that home is now owned by Sam, and that’s where the story begins. Where a man who’s lost everything ends back at his beginnings only to find that that house is now the beginnings of someone who has always been there for him.

It’s a haunting, emotional, fabulous moment. And , importantly, it includes a young sheltie who’s been abandoned and will become central to Worth’s recovery and journey into a new life. That’s Buttercup. Make note of this dog and his huge role as a support animal and loved companion.

As the men try to find a way to make this tenuous relationship they’ve begun work, sharing their past life experiences and new present struggles, we learn that depression has always been a part of Worth’s life but that he’s never really gotten the treatment and therapy that would have helped him cope with the trauma and stress that his life has offered up.

The raw pain, the guilt and trauma that he’s felt and carried is powerfully portrayed by Albert’s skillful handling of this man’s emotional issues. And having and transferring some of those feelings of being left behind by his family over into the abandonment of a dog by its owners is a realistic element, making Buttercup’s presence even more impactful.

Sam’s personality is no slouch against such a great character. He’s got so many qualities and outstanding personal traits here. Plus he’s got a fabulous Siamese cat to balance Buttercup. He’s got Blessed Bean with all its diversity in its workers, and its issues. The house and its renovations along with its memories. And the community which is constantly circling around him.

So I did have a few questions about things within the main storyline, things that I’m still thinking about:

Spoiler Alert 🚨:

1. When things were going financially wrong at the Bean (even with that expensive coffee machine) and the men were together, why was it never ever brought up for Worth to offer to sell his 6-figure “Ive made it” high priced car to help with the expenses? Nope, that millionaire buggy isn’t mentioned except that they ride in it a couple of times later on.

2. What happens to the severe coffee competition? A big brand buys next door to try and squeeze the local coffee shop out. Stuff ensues. But logically?? What happens? We don’t know. The author doesn’t tell us, and from the drama that’s written, it’s not enough to make any difference.

3. What’s Worth doing? Running the shop ? Financial advisor? What?

I have to admit it’s great seeing Holden and Cal, and Monroe and Knox. Their roles here are perfect and made me want to read their stories all over again.

The way Find Me Worthy ended, with that wedding. It was perfect , and most importantly, that emotional support dog, Buttercup, being a part of the celebration and ceremony? Made it everything I wanted to read .

So why am I so unhappy?

Because the author doesn’t stop there. She should have. But then we get an epilogue. With a different voice, a foster kid. Which, ok, but now issues. Because guess who’s been wiped completely away? No dog or cat. We have two young adults, and it’s two years later. But Albert has totally changed or forgotten that all important Buttercup or cat. Which would have been great in this scenario when all the people were gathering on this occasion. Kids and pets! But nope.

We don’t need animals if we got the kids? Or is this just another example of the missing animal character that the author drops without explanation? Because that’s a number one problem that has always bugged me so completely in a book. Make an animal an important factor in a character’s journey and personal growth, and then without a word, it disappears from the narrative.

Like Buttercup does here. So weird change of POV, missing important elements, and ,imo, unnecessary epilogue.

Either way, a complete fail.

Because now that’s all I’m thinking about. What happened to Buttercup. Not about the story or anything else. That missing dog.

It’s enough for me to want to kick this even further down another notch.

Most people will love this. Others? Skip the epilogue so you don’t fall down this narrative rabbit hole I have.

Just say no.

Safe Harbor:

✓ Bring Me Home #1

✓ Make Me Stay #2

✓ Find Me Worthy #3

Buy Link:

Find Me Worthy (Safe Harbor Book 3)

Blurb.

I thought I’d lost myself…

Until Sam found me. I’m back in Safe Harbor, where I haven’t belonged in over twenty years. I’m unsure how I ended up here, yet I’m certain Sam is the key to finally healing.

But it’s complicated.

Sam’s had a crush on me since we were younger. To me, however, he was always the annoying kid tagging along. Now he’s all grown-up and delightfully bossy—and sexy—as he encourages me to reclaim my health.

I enjoy pushing Sam’s buttons, but one button too many leads to a scorching kiss. Soon, we’re using Sam’s cushy bed for way more than sleeping. But I can’t imagine staying in Safe Harbor forever, and no way is Sam leaving.

Sam’s given me a place to stay, a job at his nonprofit coffee shop, and a sense of purpose when I had none. But can I give him my heart? And more importantly, can I overcome my past to make Safe Harbor my future?

FIND ME WORTHY is a hurt/comfort childhood crush-to-lovers MM romance. This unexpected roommate arrangement stars two mature heroes with a minor age gap, mental health representation, and plenty of first times and sexy discoveries for everyone. Deep feels, dual point-of-view, and big fluffy HEA guaranteed.

FIND ME WORTHY is book three and the thrilling conclusion to the Safe Harbor series from acclaimed author Annabeth Albert. This small historic Oregon town has a tight friend group, memorable secondary characters, quirky businesses, and long-held secrets. Each book stands alone with a fresh couple, but the background mystery of the town’s secrets ties the series together, making reading in order more fun!

Review: Got Me Talking (Vet Shop Boys Book 7) by Casey Cox

Rating: 4.5🌈

Got Me Talking is the penultimate story in Casey Cox’s heartwarming series about a small Virginia town Veterinary Clinic’s doctors search for and finding their HEA.

You can feel the series winding down as the last of the characters find their partners and lasting relationships. Yet Cox’s stories remain strong and compelling, with each person getting a new chapter of their lives to move forward with their biggest dream, a person to love who loves them back.

Jeremy has been a staple in the series as this quiet baker behind the wonderful baked goods at Daley’s Bakery, a place that’s been featured throughout the series. He’s grown as a character but now gets his story and HEA.

One of the major element here is stuttering. Jeremy has suffered in the past because of the rejection and mistreatment he’s endured due to his struggles with speech. Only with Tyler, a former Vet Shop Boy veterinarian and his best friend, and the other vets and partners, does he feel accepted.

The newest hire at the Vet Shop Boys is an older English veterinarian, who’s relocating to the US for personal reasons. Montgomery is in storage, emotionally and almost physically. He’s committed to a rental property and still grieving the loss of his mother, as well as getting over his divorce.

Cox sets up a chance meeting with both men that’s believable, incredibly sexy, and lets us inside each of their minds as something unexpected happens between them.

It also helps us understand the need for communication when the logical moment arrives where they meet again. And the difficulties that arise when it doesn’t happen.

I love the way Cox is able to pull the reader into the world of these characters to the point where we sense their insecurities, their need for shielding themselves from being exposed emotionally. That’s on both sides. Montgomery is also frail, but his quiet, almost frozen demeanor hides the turmoil threatening to come out whereas Jeremy’s fears carry forth with every word he utters.

Their relationship is slow and moving. I wish it was longer. The age gap and health issues had some surprises towards the end.

It’s that ending that’s shows more than anything the series is almost at a close. We’re not in Virginia anymore.

And that’s ok.

One more unhappy vet to get his HEA in Got Me Feeling and then the series is done.

It’s a lovely show. I’m thrilled to see Jeremy get his romance and happy ending. There’s realistic elements but I expect that from the series and author.

It’s why I’m recommending this and the entire series. Well written, wonderful characters and plots of interesting elements, moving scenes, sexy, and warm-hearted. Love it!

Vet Shop Boys series so far:

✓ Got Me Hoping #1

✓ Got Me Wishing #2

✓ Got Me Looking #3

✓ Got Me Thinking #4

✓ Got Me Going #5

✓ Got Me Merry #6

✓ Got Me Talking #7

◦ Got Me Feeling #8 – finale Oct 23,2023

Buy Link:

Got Me Talking (Vet Shop Boys Book 7)

Description:

What do you call a herd of rhinos? A crash. That about sums up my life, too.

Having spent the last three years caring for my dying mother, I need a new leash on life. So I say goodbye to the UK and take a job opening at a small-town vet clinic in the US.

Via a layover in New York. Where I get, ahem, laid over.

With a man.

Not something I’ve ever done in my forty-three years.

Not something I intend on repeating.

Which won’t be a problem since I’ll never see the guy again… Until I step into the local bakery.

There’s no way anything can happen between Jeremy and me. I’m lost, grieving, and, oh yeah, straight. He also happens to be fifteen years younger than me. So what is it about the sexy baker that’s suddenly got me talking?

Got Me Talking is book 7 in the Vet Shop Boys series and can be read as a stand-alone. Expect a silver fox British vet having a bi awakening, an adorable baker with a stutter, age gap, plenty of humor, found family, and a heartwarming happily ever after!

Review: Got Me Talking (Vet Shop Boys Book 7) by Casey Cox

Rating: 4.5🌈

Got Me Talking is the penultimate story in Casey Cox’s heartwarming series about a small Virginia town Veterinary Clinic’s doctors search for and finding their HEA.

Cox sets up a chance meeting with both men that’s believable, incredibly sexy, and lets us inside each of their minds as something unexpected happens between them.

It also helps us understand the need for communication when the logical moment arrives where they meet again. And the difficulties that arise when it doesn’t happen.

Their relationship is slow and moving. I wish it was longer. The age gap and health issues had some surprises towards the end.

It’s that ending that’s shows more than anything the series is almost at a close. We’re not in Virginia anymore.

And that’s ok.

One more unhappy vet to get his HEA in Got Me Feeling and then the series is done.

It’s a lovely show. I’m thrilled to see Jeremy get his romance and happy ending. There’s realistic elements but I expect that from the series and author.

It’s why I’m recommending this and the entire series. Well written, wonderful characters and plots of interesting elements, moving scenes, sexy, and warm-hearted. Love it!

Vet Shop Boys series so far:

✓ Got Me Hoping #1

✓ Got Me Wishing #2

✓ Got Me Looking #3

✓ Got Me Thinking #4

✓ Got Me Going #5

✓ Got Me Merry #6

✓ Got Me Talking #7

◦ Got Me Feeling #8 – finale Oct 23,2023

Buy Link:

Got Me Talking (Vet Shop Boys Book 7)

Description:

Review: The Long Game (Game Changers #6) by Rachel Reid

Rating: 4🌈

It almost hurt to write this review because it wasn’t the one I was really expecting to write. I have loved this series since Rachel Reid began it. And a diehard fan of Shane and Ilya since they premiered in Heated Rivalry, a favorite novel among many here.

So like so many readers and fans of both author and Game Changer , I’ve been eagerly anticipating the series finale and the novel which would bring some closure to the 11 years long closeted romance of Shane and Ilya.

What I didn’t expect was that I felt the first 25 percent of the book, perhaps more , was such a slog, that I came close to putting it down completely.

The characters I had connected with were missing. Chemistry gone. Shane was the one I had the most issues with. Self involved, complaining, non communicative. Other than sex, I couldn’t see what Ilya saw in him. The relationship and dynamics from Heated Rivalry had dimmed and the sparks doused.

I couldn’t believe this was it.

It wasn’t until the halfway mark, when dramatically the narrative picked up, and their relationship became energized once more that I was invested in their lives, romance, and the story.

There had been serious elements introduced. Depression, family history, suicide. But it was one-sided narratively speaking. And it served to only connect us to Ilya and his shaky emotional status. Leaving Shane in a removed story bubble, away from the relationship and the feelings connecting us to Ilya.

The emotional ties only reached back out after the story was halfway through.

Then we got safely back on established familiar relationship ground. One we recognized from Heated Rivalry, but with personal growth accounted for.

Shame it took that long because the remainder of the story was excellent. It wove plot threads from Role Model into the storyline here, making terrific use of those characters and elements.

Reid also found the missing humor, to intersperse with the serious issues of LGBTQIA+ athletes acceptance in sports, outing, and, the stress of being a pro athlete on relationships.

The last section of The Long Game was everything I’d hoped for and wanted for this couple. It turned into the perfect way to send them off.

I just wish it had happened sooner. That the book was a complete Gordie Howe Hat Trick instead of a one goal win.

But I’ll take it. I’m sorry to see the series end. Just as I am to see the end of every hockey season.

I’ll look forward to the next Rachel Reid with the same enthusiasm as the start of the new season and run for the Stanley Cup as well.

If you’re a lover of hockey romance, contemporary romance, and the works of Rachel Reid, this series is for you. I’m highly recommending it.

Game Changers
Book 1: Game Changer
Book 2: Heated Rivalry
Book 3: Tough Guy
Book 4: Common Goal
Book 5: Role Model
Book 6: The Long Game

https://www.goodreads.com › showThe Long Game (Game Changers, #6) by Rachel Reid – Goodreads

Synopsis:

The sequel is finally here! Shane and Ilya’s story, first seen in Heated Rivalry, continues in this long-awaited hockey romance from Rachel Reid.

“Everything you could want from this magnetic couple! A passionate, sexy, emotional sequel that grips your heart! Shane and Ilya forever!” —#1 NYT Bestseller Lauren Blakely, author of Hopelessly Bromantic

To the world they are rivals, but to each other they are everything.

Ten years.

That’s how long Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov have been seeing each other. How long they’ve been keeping their relationship a secret. From friends, from family…from the league. If Shane wants to stay at the top of his game, what he and Ilya share has to remain secret. He loves Ilya, but what if going public ruins everything?

Ilya is sick of secrets. Shane has gotten so good at hiding his feelings, sometimes Ilya questions if they even exist. The closeness, the intimacy, even the risk that would come with being open about their relationship…Ilya wants it all.

It’s time for them to decide what’s most important—hockey or love.

It’s time to make a call.

Review: Winter’s Dawn (Flos Magicae #3) by Arden Powell

Rating: 5🌈

What an extraordinary story. It takes place in an alternate England, where magic and its users are to be strictly regimented, constrained by laws and prevailing ruling opinion. Anything or anyone with opposing viewpoints or uses of magic are quickly apprehended, accused of treason, and sent off to the impenetrable Blackwood Gaol to “await “ trail.

Magical, depressing Blackwood Gaol, who’s dampener’s prevent any of its prisoners from using their magic. Runes inscribed onto manacles, or embedded into the very walls themselves, seem to crush the very essence of magic within those jailed there.

We start with the journey of Dr. Thomas Brighton, imprisoned,accused of using dangerous magic . He’s a professor of theological magic but now he’s being thrown into a single dark cell in Blackwood. In an instant he’s gone from esteemed introverted college professor to someone who has lost everything.

It becomes a intimate portrait of a man in isolation, learning what it means to be deprived of nutrition, stimulation, references of times. We see it lead to bouts of depression, poor health as the cold and non existent meals tear at his physical condition, especially the loss of the magic that’s always been such a essential part of him. It’s raw, gritty, and real.

The person in the cell next to him? Winter, convicted of treason and murder. First a disembodied voice , then a hand, through a tunnel.

The relationship these two people build is at first tenuous. Especially when Thomas finds out that Winter is unapologetic about their murder sentence.

But isolation has let Thomas have more time to think about all those preconceived notion’s he’s held , about magic, and non-binary Winter is about to have a few more revelations to come.

The story builds , towards a February execution date for Winter and a increasingly questionable trial date for Thomas, as they talk, learn about each other’s magic and history.

I thought this was just a masterpiece of speculative fiction. The universe is created, the people clearly seen in those cells, for all the walls around them, and the HFN ending just amazing.

There’s two previous stories I haven’t read . I will get to those asap.

Meanwhile, put Winter’s Dawn (Flos Magicae #3) by Arden Powell on your Must Read List. It’s incredible.

I’m highly recommending it.

Flos Magicae:

The Botanist’s Apprentice #1

The Batchelor’s Valet #2

Winter’s Dawn #3

https://www.goodreads.com › showWinter’s Dawn (Flos Magicae, #3) by Arden Powell – Goodreads

Synopsis:

Thomas Brighton, a professor of theoretical magic, has been accused of treason. Imprisoned in the bleak Blackwood Gaol as he awaits his trial, he is cut off from his magic and his studies: a fate worse than death for the scholar who has devoted his life to academia. His only company is Winter, the mysterious prisoner in the neighbouring cell. As Thomas’ trial drags nearer, their whispered conversations are the only thing keeping him from giving in to boredom and despair.

Winter is a radical, a murderer, and a traitor to the crown. Everything Thomas fears and looks down on. But as Blackwood continues to crush his spirit and his magic, Winter might be his only ally. And Thomas might be Winter’s only chance of escape. Because if Blackwood and its guards don’t kill them both, the hangman’s noose surely will.

Winter’s Dawn is a 24,000-word fantasy novella with a male lead and a nonbinary love interest. It is part of the Flos Magicae series, set in an alternate 1920s universe with magic. All the stories are standalone historical fantasy romances and can be read in any order

A MelanieM Review: We Still Live by Sara Dobie Bauer

Rating: 5 stars out of 5

When John and Isaac become faculty advisors for the school’s literary magazine, their professional relationship evolves. Despite the strict code of conduct forbidding faculty fraternization, they delve into a secret affair—until Simon arrives.

Isaac’s violent ex threatens not only their careers, but also John’s life. His PTSD triggered, John must come to terms with that bloody day on College Green while Isaac must accept the heartbreak his secrets have wrought.

***WE STILL LIVE is a standalone M/M friends-to-lovers romance featuring detailed adult content, graphic violence, hurt/comfort, and mental illness.

What an incredible story! Full of current, tough topics and damaged characters, elements guaranteed to make one think, flinch, and often weep, as well as a romance that encapsulates some of the best and yes, worst that love can bring out in us. In short, We Still Live by Sara Dobie Bauer is an amazing work of contemporary fiction, romance fiction is just a part of that.

Domestic shootings, whether it is at schools, workplaces,malls, or events, has, unthinkingly and horrifically, become part of our lives. Here in We Still Live, author Sara Dobie Bauer exams what it means to have survived one of those shootings ,not just the main character’s trauma ,but that of an entire campus’. Bauer’s vivid descriptions of a darkness that hangs heavy over the town, campus, and people is so real that it creeps over the reader page by page until you feel it just as Isaac must. We are coming into the situation just as he is, almost an interloper, an outsider who slowly starts to become part of their neverending landscape of pain, loss, and regret.

I can’t begin to find the words as to how beautifully written this story is. Or how achingly subtle and fragile her characters. Both in their strengths and their vulnerabilities.

The true measure of the damage done to Professor John Conlon is only slowly revealed here, layers peeled away as core truths come to the surface. And not just for John. Because Isaac has his own demons he has brought to the campus. Ones just as current today, given the rising conservative values and his own religious background. Bauer has developed these themes and woven them flawlessly into her narrative and romance, bringing me to tears multiple times as well as to laughter.

It’s not just the main characters that are so well developed but all of them, from those with minor parts to those with larger supporting roles like Tommy, John’s best friend professor who lived through the shooting too. This is a story that will stay with you, lines that will haunt you, from a dedication in a Student literary magazine to the last lines of this novel which I will leave for the reader to read for themselves.

It’s life affirming as well as wrenching. It’s so damn real. It will be on my Best of 2019 list this year.

Cover art by Natasha Snow, Honestly I expect more from this artist than a bunch of trees (while I get the symbolism), especially with this exceptional book as inspiration. Meh. Feels like a stock photo you can purchase anywhere.

Buy Links

NineStar Press | Amazon UK | Amazon US | Paperback

Book Details:

Kindle Edition, 1st edition, 233 pages
Published December 9th 2019 by NineStar Press (first published December 4th 2019)
Original Title We Still Live
ASINB082BJDX2P
Edition Language English

Join Us for the Blog Tour with Excerpt for We Still Live by Sara Dobie Bauer

BLOG TOUR

Book Title: We Still Live

Author: Sara Dobie Bauer

Publisher: NineStar Press

Cover Artist: Natasha Snow

Release Date: December 9, 2019

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Friends to lovers, hurt/comfort

Themes: Coming out, depression, anxiety, PTSD/post-traumatic stress, mental illness

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 62 000 words

It is a standalone book.

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Buy Links

NineStar Press | Amazon UK | Amazon US | Paperback

To escape the past, accept it.

Blurb

Running from a scandal that ruined his life, Isaac Twain accepts a teaching position at Hambden University where, three months prior, Professor John Conlon stopped a campus nightmare by stepping in front of an active shooter.

When John and Isaac become faculty advisors for the school’s literary magazine, their professional relationship evolves. Despite the strict code of conduct forbidding faculty fraternization, they delve into a secret affair—until Simon arrives.

Isaac’s violent ex threatens not only their careers, but also John’s life. His PTSD triggered, John must come to terms with that bloody day on College Green while Isaac must accept the heartbreak his secrets have wrought.

***WE STILL LIVE is a standalone M/M friends-to-lovers romance featuring detailed adult content, graphic violence, hurt/comfort, and mental illness.***

Excerpt

Close as they were to the foyer, Isaac was the first to notice the front door opening. A student walked inside. The kid dragged a heavy-looking suitcase behind him. Dressed as he was in a slim-fitting button-down, Isaac immediately assumed preppy, although that assumption altered and changed when taking into account the tight black jeans, Converse sneakers, and shaggy hair the color of caramel and chocolate—a mass of waves and curls that fell down the back of his neck but not quite to his shoulders.

The kid pushed his hair out of the way and looked up, eyes finding Isaac and flashing a moment of panicked nonrecognition before seeing Tommy.

“Um.” Isaac pointed toward the new arrival.

Tommy turned and shouted, “John! My man!”

Not a student, then.

Tommy wrapped John in a hug that actually lifted his feet off the ground. Isaac imagined it wouldn’t be difficult. The new guy might have been average height, but he was gangly, skin and bones.

Tommy ruffled his hair. “Have you lost weight?”

John grumbled and scratched his face with his middle finger. “What are you freeloaders doing in my house?” His voice was surprisingly resonant for someone Isaac considered “pretty.” At John’s pronouncement, crows of approval rang from every direction.

“Come meet Isaac,” Tommy said.

John wiped his palms on his jeans before reaching out to shake, and Isaac’s large hand dwarfed his.

“Isaac Twain is the newest addition to our special corner of Hambden hell. Isaac, this is John Conlon.”

John brushed more hair out of his face. “Nice to—”

“John Conlon?”

John and Tommy froze.

Isaac jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “The books on the shelf. Those are yours?”

John’s face, immobile in what looked like dread a moment before, melted into relief, tinged with a bit of blush. “Oh, yeah. You’ve read?”

“No, but I should. You’ve published a lot of books. You must be good.”

John’s nose wrinkled, and he looked away.

Tommy shook him by the shoulders. “John is an amazing writer. He had a story published in The New Yorker when he was, like, five. Are you working on anything right now?”

John glanced at the bookshelf. “Not lately.”

“You need a drink,” Tommy said.

John’s eyes widened on a big breath. “God, yes, I do.”

“Nice to meet you,” Isaac said, but John just nodded quickly, smile thin, before allowing himself to be herded farther into the house toward the sound of quiet laughter and clinking bottles.

Isaac felt it then—an outsider’s emptiness. He became a nervous-looking coat rack in the corner, a terrified tree waiting for the ax. As the party doubled in auditory volume, he bemoaned his spilled wine. Was it okay for him to leave? It wasn’t like he was supposed to make a speech. He was only there because he figured it was the easiest way to meet everyone before the first official faculty meeting, but he’d been standing around too long. He wanted to run.

Out of curiosity, he reopened John’s book from earlier and read the front flap. It was a coming-of-age story about a gay kid in the Midwest. He flipped to the back, and a picture of John stared back at him. He’d assumed the guy was tired when they first met, but no; apparently, John had perpetual bedroom eyes, and his hair was always an artful mess. He skimmed…creative writing professor at Hambden University…gay rights activist…Converse-wearer and “old-people music” enthusiast.

All arrows pointed to John’s probable sexual preference for men. A spark of interest flickered but quickly went out. True, John Conlon was what most people would consider beautiful, but he wasn’t Isaac’s type. John was the kind of man butch guys fought over in gay clubs, but he was too small for Isaac, too fragile-looking, girly. After all he’d been through, the last thing Isaac wanted was someone feminine.

A thin figure ducked into the library and literally hid against the doorframe. He took a long drink of something brown and leaned his head back. “It’s not good when you want to hide in your own house.”

“Library is the best place for it,” Isaac said.

John kicked away from the wall. “Tommy mentioned you just moved here? I’ve been in Lothos forever, so if you need anything…” He examined Isaac from his brown boat shoes to the top of his blond head. John’s large eyes, dark green, seemed bottomless—drowning pools of intellect and soul—only slightly overshadowed by his thick eyebrows.

About the Author

Sara Dobie Bauer is a bestselling author, model, and mental health / LGBTQ advocate with a creative writing degree from Ohio University. She lives with her hottie husband and two precious pups in Northeast Ohio, although she’d really like to live in a Tim Burton film. She is author of the paranormal rom-com Bite Somebody series and Escape Trilogy.

Photo credit: Bill Thornhill

Author Links

Blog/Website | Facebook | Private Facebook Group

Twitter | Instagram | Newsletter Sign-up | BookBub

Follow the tour and check out the other blog posts and reviews here

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A Free Dreamer Review :Art of Death (Lychgate #1) by Bob Appavu

Rating: 3.5 stars out of 5

Starving artist Riley Burke refuses to be dependent on his rich older boyfriend—hence his second job as a nude model at the local art school. When the famous artist Coliaro requests him for a private modeling session, he jumps at the chance to earn some real cash.

But then Westwood, a mysterious stranger, warns him to steer clear—it’s said Coliaro is undead. That his worshippers perform rituals to fill him with life energy. That every time he paints a male nude, the painting transforms to depict a gruesome murder. And that shortly after, a young man turns up dead.

Riley dismisses the rumors—until they start to play out before his eyes. When he becomes a target, Westwood comes to his aid. But Westwood is secretive and dangerous himself… which just makes him more attractive to Riley. Riley is in over his head, and even his tenuous alliance with Westwood might not save him.

Art of Death is the first book in a new series. The blurb made it sound like a rather unique story and I certainly haven’t read anything like it before, but it still failed to wow me.

First of all, you should know that Riley’s dealing with mental health issues, namely depression. He could also use a therapist, but can’t afford one and doesn’t want to tell his boyfriend about his “angst”. There’s also talk of homophobic parents and the suicide of a family member. And, well, the murders are gruesome, but they don’t actually happen on-page. So beware if any of this triggers you.

This isn’t much of a romance. Riley is in a failing relationship with his rich boyfriend. He has some serious trust issues and can’t bring himself to open up about his troubles. And then there’s this very attractive, if somewhat dangerous and scary, stranger that Riley just can’t stop thinking about. Personally, I enjoyed that. I just wish there’d been a bit more of an explanation why things in the bedroom didn’t work out for Riley and Nick. It seemed like a big issue on Riley’s part, but we never get a reason.

Riley’s lack of curiosity kind of baffled me. The first thing I’d want to know if I met an undead, immortal person, is how it all works. Are you born that way? Do you need to die under specific circumstances to come back to life? And so on. Because these undead aren’t zombies, they’re more like normal people, who just can’t die. And some of them have a serious lack of morals.

The plot itself had a few holes in it. Dead bodies turn up around Riley and yet there’s very little police involved. It’s just mentioned in passing that they showed up at the crime scene, but there’s zero follow-up.

Riley is a starving free-lance artist and yet we never see him do any actual work. There’s the occasional mention of a new job designing this or that, but nothing about Riley actually working on that job. I think it would have added a little more depth to the story, which seemed a bit flat overall.

This book has less than 300 pages, which isn’t a lot. Yet it took me a surprisingly long time to finish. I guess I just wasn’t that motivated. It wasn’t boring or bad or anything, it just didn’t wow me and it couldn’t hold my interest for any length of time.

All in all, “Art of Death” is an okay book. The idea behind it is fairly unique, but the execution was a little bit lacking to me. I’m not sure yet if I want to actually read the next book in the series. I guess I’ll make that decision when it comes out.

The cover by Bob Appavu is okay. I think a bit more connection to the plot would have been nice. As it is, it’s a little bit average.

Sale Links: Amazon

Book Details:

Kindle Edition, 271 pages
Published September 3rd 2019 by DSP Publications
ASINB07RF668N5
Edition LanguageEnglish
SeriesLychgate #1
Other Editions
None found

Need a New Story to Dive Into? Check Out the New Release Blitz for Beyond Identity by Karrie Roman (excerpt and giveaway)

Title: Beyond Identity

Author: Karrie Roman

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: September 2, 2019

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 74200

Genre: Contemporary, LGBT, New Adult, college, depression,hurt-comfort, friends to lovers

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

Noah Lancaster’s life is a mess. He doesn’t know much about his past or who is parents really were. When he’s beaten on the streets one night while sleeping rough, the attack doesn’t feel like just another random assault on a vulnerable target. Somebody wanted Noah dead. But who’d want to hurt him? He’s a nobody who doesn’t know where he came from or who he truly is.

Harry Cooper wants to launch his career as an investigative journalist by telling the stories of the hardships faced by the homeless. His latest subject was lucky to survive a brutal attack—the mean streets almost swallowing him up like so many others. Noah is a mystery to Harry and it seems to the man himself.

When Noah’s attack brings these two men together, neither could imagine they’re about to be pulled into a mystery one hundred and thirty years old—and half a world away. They’re about to discover a secret someone has already killed once to protect and one that might get them both killed.

Sometimes who you are goes far beyond who you thought you were.

Excerpt

Noah had been here before. People didn’t have sporadic stints of living on the streets and expect to escape the occasional bashing. An assault could come from anywhere—another rough sleeper, a junkie, pimp, or sometimes from some teenage twat who thought they were being hilarious beating the shit out of someone whose life had already kicked them in the teeth. When someone was homeless, they were either invisible or a goddamn target. The fucking irony.

This was different though. This wasn’t some son of a bitch grabbing the nearest body and laying his fists into them. Noah had been stalked. He’d watched this bastard skip first one and then the next rough sleeper he’d come across in the alley until he’d spotted Noah.

Noah recognised what the man wanted, could tell by the tense set of his shoulders, the white knuckles of his clenched fists. He wanted to make Noah hurt. Sensing danger became heightened when surrounded by it day and night with no locked door to offer even the illusion of safety. So, when he’d first spotted this man, Noah had wanted to run, he’d never wanted to run so desperately in his life. But he had nowhere to go. He’d chosen poorly the night before—a rookie mistake, though he was no rookie to sleeping on the streets.

He’d been so damn exhausted, when searching for a spot to lay his head, he hadn’t cared that there’d been no second exit, no escape route in this alleyway. He’d trapped himself, and a monster had walked right into his trap. But Noah was the one caught in the deadly snare.

Noah could fight. He was scrappy, no finesse, no training, but he could throw a half-decent punch. He was capable of delivering a hit to make his opponent think twice about going after him, and if that didn’t work, he knew how to bite, kick, scratch; hell, he’d go for the balls if he had to. Another thing learned on the street if someone wanted to survive was to use every weapon in their arsenal.

The monster coming for him was tall, not the biggest man Noah had ever seen, but definitely the biggest one he’d ever had to fight. The darkness shadowed his features, but he knew the eyes were bleak, cruel; he’d seen a flash of them in the streetlight near the top of the alleyway, or maybe his imagination was making the man’s physicality as sinister as his demeanour. Noah felt those eyes on him. Glaring. And he wondered what the hell he’d done to this guy to piss him off so badly.

Noah stood, legs wide, shoulders high, chest out, trying to make himself appear as big as possible. From the man’s bearing and manner, it was evident he had next to no chance of scaring this guy off, but he had to try. Any fight he didn’t end up actually fighting was a win.

Much of his time on the street Noah was alone, but never more so than when some fucker decided to take a potshot at him. He didn’t really blame anyone for their indifference. They lived in a don’t-get-involved kind of world and when no one had their back having someone else’s could be very hard.

The man kept coming. He was close now, close enough to allow Noah to see him more clearly. His eyes were as cruel as Noah had thought, but the rest of his face he’d describe as a baby face, soft, almost sweet-looking. His cheeks were puffed as though full of cotton wool, a perfectly shaped snub nose sat above rich red cupid’s bow lips pulled into a sneer. Without more light he was unable to pick accurate skin and hair colour, but he’d guess fair for both.

Noah raked his gaze quickly down the man’s body. He was muscular but not hulk-like. He had no obvious weapon, though from the size of his hands, Noah suspected he’d be able to do plenty of damage with those alone.

He wondered if the man would speak. Sometimes they did, especially the arsehole teens who, for whatever reason, felt the need to justify why they were beating the shit out of their victim, all while bragging amongst themselves about how tough they were.

Faster than he’d have thought possible, the man lashed out. Noah’s head snapped back, and a spray of blood bloomed from his nose, the sickening crack turning his stomach. He hadn’t had a chance to move. The stranger’s speed and accuracy confirming to Noah this man was no amateur—and Noah was in big trouble.

Before his head had even righted, he took a blow to his stomach, the force of it doubling him over. He gasped for air, trying to suck in big gulps through his mouth. The man’s knee connected with his already broken nose before he could catch his breath, and the follow-up blow to the back of his head sent him to his knees.

Noah didn’t stand a chance; he understood how dire his situation was now. This man was a professional—he knew what he was doing.

His vision was darkening, tiny purple-black spots making it difficult for him to see clearly. He lashed out with a fist, connecting with what he thought was the man’s thigh. He wondered if his attacker even felt the blow there was so little power behind it.

The man aimed for his head again, but somehow Noah managed to dodge backwards so the blow was only glancing. Unlike in the movies, Noah knew a normal person couldn’t take too many direct, powerful hits to their head without substantial damage or worse. His focus was scattered, not sharp enough for him to decide what to do about the punches raining down on him though. Did he duck and cover, hope to ride out the attack while protecting his head? Or did he try to get up and fight?

He kind of roll crawled to put some distance between them but the man charged relentlessly after him. Noah kicked out with his leg. He tried to aim for the man’s knee, but his head was spinning worse than the one time he’d had way too much whisky. He wasn’t sure where his foot ended up connecting, but his attacker only grunted and kept coming.

Noah curled into a ball, pulling his head down to his chest and wrapping his arms around the vulnerable area. He felt a sharp hard kick to his back and then another. He tried to roll to his knees, but the bastard wouldn’t relent even a little.

“Hey! You there!” A booming voice called.

Noah’s attacker stopped immediately. He heard running footsteps and glanced out from beneath his arms just in time to see the man sprint down the alley, barrel into a man and woman at the opening, and keep right on running. He didn’t have the energy to move, much less chase after him or even call out for help. He closed his eyes and groaned.

He wasn’t quite sure what happened to time then—it either slowed down or sped right up. He was too out of it to know which. He heard voices, vaguely registered they were occasionally talking to him, but he couldn’t be fucked answering. He wanted to sleep. His eyes were welded shut—they had to be—but lights flashed continually behind them. There were more voices and then some arsehole was poking and prodding at him. It was the strangest thing—as though he was there but wasn’t.

One minute he was curled up on the cold, filthy concrete and then suddenly, he was being jostled around in some kind of vehicle. Ambulance, probably—at least he hoped it wasn’t a cop car. He smelled pee and knew it was his, but he didn’t have the wherewithal to be ashamed. He was amazed he was capable of smelling at all, given he was sure his nose must be shattered in a million pieces. Mixed with the acidic pee was the coppery stench of blood.

Someone was asking him for his name. He thought his name was Noah, but everything was a bit hazy. He couldn’t for the life of him think of his last name.

“Can you tell me your name?” the voice asked again.

“Shh. I’m sore,” he replied, though the words were so slurred he didn’t know if he’d be understood.

He heard a soft chuckle and then that damn voice again. “I know you’re sore, but can you tell me your name.”

“Noah,” he groaned, so the voice would shut up.

“Noah, do you have any allergies?”

Jesus fucking Christ, didn’t this idiot know he just had the stuffing beaten out of him? He didn’t give a shit about allergies. He groaned again. The fucker could take his whimpered reply however he wanted.

“I’ll take that as a no. I’m going to give you a shot of morphine. Have you had anything to drink tonight?”

“Don’t drink.” Fuck, the slurring was getting worse. He shook his head no to make sure this guy would understand him. He felt like his goddamn brain was rattling around in his skull.

“Okay, good. Here we go then, just a small pinch.”

Noah felt a bite—a fucking painful one—in his arse cheek. “Fuck,” he spat. Small pinch my arse.

“I know, sorry. Morphine shots kinda hurt.”

“Arsehole,” he groaned. Every part of him hurt, but hopefully the morphine would kick in soon. He knew he was being taken to a hospital but wished he wasn’t. He wished he could talk them into letting him out now. With his veins full of morphine to dull the pain, he’d be okay. He’d find somewhere to curl up for a while and sleep it off. But they had their duty of care and blah, blah, blah. He’d sign something to say they did all they could, and he’d happily take the blame if he died from his injuries on the street.

He hated hospitals, loathed anywhere really that put him on the radar. He was no criminal, and he wasn’t on the run, but the idea of anyone knowing exactly where he was sent shivers up his spine for no particular reason except that’s just the way he was made.

Hands busied themselves all over his body. He had neither the energy nor the ability to open his eyes and watch what they were doing. From the noises being made and the sensations on his skin, they were putting in an IV and attending to his wounds. Noah floated happily on his morphine cloud, content to lie back and let those hands have their way with him. He still wished he wasn’t headed for a hospital, but he’d keep the worry for when the drugs wore off.

He felt the cold air rush in when the doors of the ambulance were yanked open. His body was jostled around when the stretcher was pulled from the back, though he knew they were trying to be careful—that pesky duty of care. He really tried to peel at least one eyelid open when he heard voices gathered over him, discussing him as if he wasn’t there. He heard them say assault and concussion and lucky. He didn’t care about any of it. He was in no pain now, and all his other worries seemed far off, silly, unimportant.

He heard them say something about topping the dose, and then even the haziness in his brain faded as he drifted away.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords

Meet the Author

Karrie lives in Australia’s sunshine state with her husband and two sons, though she hates the sun with a passion. She dreams of one day living in the wettest and coldest habitable place she can find. She has been writing stories in her head for years but has finally managed to pull the words out of her head and share them with others. She spends her days trying to type her stories on the computer without disturbing her beloved cat Lu curled up on the keyboard. She probably reads far too much.

Website |Twitter

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Synopsis

Excerpt

Purchase

NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords

Meet the Author

Website |Twitter

Giveaway

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