Love Contemporary Romance? Check Out Heart Unheard (Heart Unseen #2) by Andrew Grey (Guest Post & Exclusive Excerpt)

Heart Unheard (Heart Unseen #2) by Andrew Grey
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Release Date: Nov 17 2017
Cover Artist: L.C. Chase

Book Links
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Dreamspinner Press

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to host Andrew Grey today on his Heart Unheard tour. Welcome, Andrew.

Blurb/Synopsis:

The attraction between Brent Berkheimer and Scott Spearman peels the wallpaper, but Brent is Scott’s boss, and they’re both too professional to go beyond flirting. Their priorities realign after Scott is badly injured in an accident that costs him his hearing, and Brent realizes what is truly important… he wants Scott.

Scott first pushes Brent away, fearing a new romance will just add to his problems, but perhaps he will find unexpected strength and solace in Brent’s support as he struggles to communicate with the world in a new way.

Just as they decide the chance of a happy future together is worth the risk, Scott and Brent discover darker challenges in their way—including evidence that the “accident” Scott suffered may not have been so accidental.

Excerpt

“Is that what you did?” Dean ruffled his hair like Brent was a kid. “Come on. He worked for you, so you wanted to keep things professional.”

“Fuck that. I thought… think about him all the damn time. I was too afraid to say something in case he turned me down. I’m ten years older than him, and I figured, what the hell would he want me for anyway?” Brent set his glass aside. Suddenly getting drunk and trying to forget everything didn’t hold any appeal. “I’m mooning over a guy who was out of my league. We flirted and had fun with each other, but that was all it was. I was… am Scott’s boss, and that’s the end of it.” He huffed. “The rest is me being an idiot.”

Dean downed his whiskey and poured some more. “If you’re so sure about that, you wouldn’t be acting this way.” He could be so observant every now and then. “You like him, and somehow you developed feelings for him.”

Brent jumped to his feet, waving a hand. “Okay, I did. But none of that matters, and I need to get over this… infatuation. He’s in surgery right now, and he isn’t going to want me when… if he gets better.” He began pacing the room. “I’m acting like a teenager. I need to stop.” His head was going in a million directions, and he desperately needed it to settle on something, anything.

Dean set his glass on the coffee table. “Fuck it all. You know I was pissed and a bit depressed because Dumbfuck was getting married and the asshole is happy. But dammit, I’m more depressed now than I was when I walked through your door.” He snatched his glass and drained it. “I hate shit like that.” Dean leaned back on the sofa, cradling his glass.

“Let’s eat until we puke.” Brent opened the bag of Cheetos and passed them to Dean because he knew they were his favorite. Then he opened the chips and went to the refrigerator to grab a couple of beers before flopping on the sofa. He’d had enough whiskey, so he popped a beer open and drank. Brent sighed. “Sometimes I think I’m the stupidest man on earth.”

“Why?” Dean’s speech was a little slurred, or maybe it was the mouth full of Cheetos. It was hard to tell.

“Because I wasn’t gutsy enough just to tell him what I wanted. I know it won’t make a difference, not now.” Brent drank another sip of beer and then picked up the bag of chips. “I suppose we always regret the things we don’t do.”

Dean shook his head. “Yeah, I know that. I should have left Chuck long before I did.”

“You know, maybe it’s time you stop trying to screw every guy in town and find someone special.” Brent set his beer on the coffee table, turning toward Dean. “Every time I go to Trevor’s and see him and James together, I get so fucking jealous that I want to scream. They have what I want, and I can’t ever seem to find it for myself.” He crunched another chip. God, now he was sharing his feelings and shit. It must be the whiskey. “Forget I said anything. Okay? It’s not that important. Let it go.” He turned on the television and found a RuPaul marathon. It gave them something to talk about other than his feelings.

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 Titles Below Are for the Heart Unseen Novels Only

Links go to Amazon

Heart Unseen Book 1

Heart Unheard Book 2

****Please add to Post if Reviewing****
**** Disclosure of Material: I received a final and/or advanced reader copy of this book from RBTL Book Promotions and the Author/Publisher with the hope that I will leave my Unbiased Opinion. I was not required to leave a review, positive or otherwise, and my opinions are just that… My Opinions. I am posting this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising”. *****

On Tour with Jacob Z. Flores and Blood Drop (The Warlock Brothers of Havenbridge #5) (author guest post and giveaway)

Blood Drop (The Warlock Brothers of Havenbridge #5) by Jacob Z. Flores
Dreamspinner Press
Cover art by Paul Richmond

Release date: November 6, 2017

Buy Link: Dreamspinner Press e-book/Dreamspinner Press Paperback

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to have Jacob Z. Flores here today on his Blood Drop tour. Welcome, Jacob.

Blurb:

A single drop of blood might hold the key to the fate of the magical world, and Aiden Teine must choose between his bond of love and embracing the power to defeat his enemies.

Aiden’s adjustment to being the first vampyre fae hasn’t been easy, but his ties to warlock Thad Blackmoor prevent him from becoming a monster. With Thad, Aiden has a new family, a new purpose, and a new reason to live—though he’s technically undead. There’s one problem: Aiden’s control over his vampyre is weakening. He must learn what’s triggering his violent reactions before he surrenders to the creature within. To complicate matters, Aiden discovers his transformation might not be complete, and he fears what he will become.

Aiden’s search for answers thrusts him into a frightening world filled with deception, new dangers, and apocalyptic visions. The part destiny intends Aiden to play could alter his relationship with Thad forever. If Aiden, Thad, and the entire magical community are to survive Icarian’s latest scheme, Aiden must interpret the meaning of the prophetic blood drop before it falls and ushers in the destruction of all creation—and the warlock he loves.

Blood Drop

The Warlock Brothers of Havenbridge (Book 5)

by Jacob Z. Flores

Magic has enthralled me since I was a child. I can still remember those summer afternoons, running around my grandparents’ yard and pretending that I was levitating my enemies or moving objects with my mind. As I grew into an adult, my fascination with the mystical world only grew. The only thing that changed was my realization that I wasn’t telekinetic and couldn’t cast spells.

But, I was only partially wrong.

While I couldn’t summon arcane energies, as an author I could create a magical world and populate it with magical characters. Thus, I began constructing the world on which the Warlock Brothers of Havenbridge is based.

As hard as it is to believe, the journey began in 2015. Two years and four books later, the fifth (and most likely the last) book of the series is set to release on November 6.

I’ve enjoyed exploring this world with everyone. I’ve also had great fun re-imagining warlocks, witches, and wizards and vampires, shifters, and fae. I’m also extremely proud of my boys—Mason, Thad, and Pierce. They have come a long way since book one, but I’m not done with them—yet.

There’s one story left to tell, and it belongs to Aiden Teine, the fire fairy who captured Thad Blackmoor’s heart. Aiden is the narrator for the fifth book, which will answer all the remaining questions from the series. Readers will finally learn the identities of Icarian and the Warlock Hag as well as the devastating truth about the Prophecy of the Three.

However, all endings have a beginning, and that is what I want to share with readers on this tour. I have written a six-part prologue to Blood Drop that will fill in the gap between books four and five and lead right into chapter one. I’ll be sharing each part at the first six blog stops and an exclusive excerpt at the final one. I hope you’ll come along for the ride.

So kick back, grab your favorite snack, and enjoy. Don’t forget to enter the blog’s giveaway. One person at every stop will win a $10 Amazon gift card.

Blood Drop Prologue: Part 6

For the past week, I’d felt awful. My head pounded as if a pack of gnomes had climbed inside my brain and were hacking away at it with their pickaxes. My gut wrenched and spasmed, and my normally warm flesh had chilled.

I normally avoided wearing clothes at all costs, so when I slid into a pair of sweat pants and a sweatshirt, Thad knew something was wrong.

“Alright, that’s it.” Thad crossed his arms over his chest and leveled his gaze. “What’s going on?”

I shrugged, not wanting to make this as big of a deal as Thad was about to. “I’m cold.”

“Y-you’re cold?” I couldn’t have shocked Thad more if I slapped him. “You’re a fire fairy. You’re never cold.”

He was omitting the fact that I was also a vampyre. The living dead didn’t have to worry about the cold either. “Must be the weather,” I said while attempting to head downstairs for Sunday brunch with the rest of the family.

Thad blocked my path. Even though I towered five inches over him, his set jaw and flinty gaze made me feel about two inches tall.

“What?”

“Don’t ‘what?’ me.” He poked his index finger in my chest. No one else but Thad could get away with that. “You’ve been acting strangely ever since your hunt last week. I know you’re keeping something from me, but I’ve been giving you your space, letting you work things out in your own time while I finished up my dissertation. But I can’t leave for Salem in a few days when we both know there’s something wrong.”

I should have realized Thad had picked up on the fact that I was keeping something from him. I’d only done that to spare him the inevitable worrying, but he was right. Things were only getting worse. I felt ill, and fire fairies never got sick.

“Tell me.” His anger vanished like smoke in the wind, and a fog of concern rolled upon the shore of his gaze. I loved him so much, and I couldn’t keep my fears from him anymore.

“Will you two quit fucking around in there?” Pierce’s taunting voice bellowed from the other side of the closed bedroom door. Thad’s older brother seemed to only be happy when he was taunting someone in the family. “Brunch is served, and I’ll zap someone in the balls if my bacon gets cold.”

I snarled at the door while Thad placed his hand upon my chest. It was his cue that I needed to calm down.

“We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Better make it faster than that.” That was Mason, Thad’s younger brother and a thorn in just about everyone’s side. “You know how much Pierce hates it when his meat gets cold. That must be why he always has his hand down the front of his pants.”

“You’re about to have my foot up your ass,” Pierce challenged.

“Hey, let go!”

A huge scuffle, which sounded like trolls wrestling, exploded in the hall. Thad flung open the door to referee as he always did. I turned away from the chaos and stared out the window. I focused my attention on the sun creeping away from the horizon. The beauty of nature centered me, and right now, I needed that more than anything else.

The pandemonium Pierce and Mason created typically irritated me. Today, I found it appealing. It pulled at the darkness within, threatening to tear down the barriers I’d erected to keep my vampyre in check.

I couldn’t let it out. The last time I did I hadn’t recognized Thad. If my vampyre focused its attention on Pierce and Mason, they might not survive the encounter.

“Will you stop?” Thad screeched again.

“Tell that to him,” Mason yelled. “He’s the one trying to inflict bodily harm.”

I smiled. I’d enjoy seeing the two of them beating each other bloody. It would be an appetizer for the main course, my talons shredding their skin and gorging on the crimson liquid within.

The door slammed behind me, shutting out the commotion as Pierce and Mason stomped down the stairs. The closed door couldn’t keep out the scent of anger and violence. It swirled around me on sweet, coppery currents.

“A-aiden?”

I turned to face Thad. He seemed shorter as if dealing with his brothers had shaved a few inches from his height. That was bizarre, but not as strange as the look of horror that scrunched up his face.

“What’s wrong?”

He pointed at the mirror to my right. “Look at yourself.”

I gasped when I gazed upon my reflection. I flexed my talons as if I were preparing to strike, and my tongue searched the air for its next meal. I’d unconsciously shifted to my vampyre form.

That had never happened before. I’d always been able to control my transitions. If that was no longer the case—

“We’ll figure this out.” Thad stood behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

I hoped he was right. If not, Thad and his family were in more danger from me at this moment than they were from Icarian.

To read all 6 parts of the prologue, follow the Blood Drop blog tour and enter to win a $10 Amazon gift card at each stop!

About the Author

Jacob Z. Flores lives a double life. During the day, he is a respected college English professor and mid-level administrator. At night and during his summer vacation, he loosens the tie and tosses aside the trendy sports coat to write man on man fiction, where the hard ass assessor of freshmen level composition turns his attention to the firm posteriors and other rigid appendages of the characters in his fictional world.

Summers in Provincetown, Massachusetts, provide Jacob with inspiration for his fiction. The abundance of barely clothed man flesh and daily debauchery stimulates his personal muse.

When he isn’t stroking the keyboard, Jacob spends time with his daughter. They both represent a bright blue blip in an otherwise predominantly red swath in south Texas.

Author Website / The Warlock Brothers of Havenbridge Website / Facebook

Giveaway

Win a $10 Amazon Gift Card

How?

Leave a comment telling Jacob Z. Flores what you think about the prologue

Jacob will choose a new winner at each stop on the tour, so make sure to visit them all!

The Blood Drop Blog Tour

11/6 My Fiction Nook

11/7 Open Skye Book Reviews

11/8 Love Bytes

11/9 Happily Ever Chapter

11/10 The Novel Approach

11/13 Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words

11/15 Divine Magazine

M.A. Church on Cat Facts and her latest story At Sixes and Sevens (Fur, Fangs, and Felines #4) by M.A. Church

At Sixes and Sevens (Fur, Fangs, and Felines #4) by M.A. Church
Dreamspinner Press
Cover art by Paul Richmond

Buy Links:

Dreamspinner Press eBook and Paperback | Amazon

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to have M.A. Church here today on her At Sixes and Sevens tour. Welcome, M.A.

Cat Facts by M.A. Church

It is estimated that there are 200–600 million cats alive on Earth.

There may have been instances of domesticated cats as early as 7,500 BC.

Cats are the most popular pet in the United States: There are 88 million pet cats and 74 million dogs.

A group of cats is called a clowder.

Cats can’t taste sweetness.

Adult cats only meow to communicate with humans.

Cats’ life spans are on the rise. In the early 1980s, cats were only expected to live seven years; now they are expected to live twelve to fifteen.

The oldest known cat was Creme Puff, who lived to be thirty-eight years old.

Domesticated cats use vocalizations like meowing, purring and hissing—but feral cats are practically silent.

Cats can pass their body through any space which they can fit their heads through.

Blurb

Werecats mating with humans was bad enough…. But an Alpha werewolf?

Aidric’s life takes an unexpected turn when he meets Alpha Carter Lovelock of the Dark Lake Pack—who is apparently his mate. Now Aidric must decide whether to accept the mate the goddess chose, or deny her gift because cats and dogs just don’t mix.

Carter is in a pickle. He always assumed his mate would be a female werewolf. How else is Carter supposed to carry on his line and retain Alphaship? When Aidric comes into his life, Carter’s ex, Sabrina, isn’t giving up easily. Her brother, Delaney, is a thorn in Carter’s side, and some of the other werewolves go out of their way to make Aidric feel unwelcome, including one of his deltas, Evan.

Unfortunately, what little headway they make is destroyed during a full moon hunt when enemy werewolves attack Aidric and threaten the pack house where the Dark Lake pups are kept—an ambush that could have devastating consequences on their future.

Werewolves are notoriously insular, and before Carter and Aidric can build the life they want with each other, they’ll face a fight for acceptance.

Excerpt

There was no way a mating between a werewolf and a werecat could work. All I was doing was delaying the inevitable. Obviously Carter felt the same way since he hadn’t bothered to call me in the week since that meeting. He certainly wasn’t pursuing me.

Growling, I stomped to the bedroom. Well, screw him. I needed to be mated to a werewolf like I needed a hole in the head. I snatched up my cell phone and promptly dropped the thing on the bed when it rang. Startled, I hissed at it. Shit. The ringtone continued to blare as I snatched it up. If I’d cracked the stupid screen, I was going to…. I blinked in surprise.

Speak of the devil—or in this case—the werewolf. Running my finger across the screen, I unlocked my cell. My heart pounded. If I answered this, I’d have to stop avoiding the situation. Was I ready? There’d be no going back. Did I really want to take this step? Did I have a choice?

I answered the damn phone. “Hello?”

“Aidric LeClair?”

I closed my eyes for a second, took a deep breath, and then opened them. Why did his voice have to be so low and rumbly? I shivered. “Speaking.”

“This is Carter Lovelock.”

Right away I noticed he omitted his title, but that didn’t surprise me. He had no way of knowing how secure my phone line was.

“Are you there?”

“What?” Jeez, what was I doing? “Yes, I’m here. Sorry about that. I was….” Okay, no, I was not going to tell him I was perving on his voice. “Anyway. What can I do for you?”

There was silence on the line. The temptation to bang my head against the nearest wall was great, but I resisted. Had I actually asked him what could I do for him? Could I possibly sound stuffier?

“I can think of several ways to answer that question, but maybe it would be better not to.”

“I’m sorry?” I cringed. In my mind I saw my cat with his paw over his eyes. Well, guess that answered the question of whether I could sound stuffier. Apparently I could.

“Ah, is this a bad time?”

Is there ever a good time to make an idiot of myself? “No, no, it’s not a bad time.”

“I see. Cat got your tongue, perhaps?”

Whatever nerves were plaguing me suddenly ignited, and with a whoosh, went up in a screaming mass of indignant flames. Abruptly I wanted to use Alpha Lovelock as a scratching post.

“You know, your kind is proof evolution can go in reverse.”

Now I understood exactly what the term “dead air” meant. I couldn’t believe I’d said that, but by damned, he deserved it. Cat got my tongue—seriously?

Finally Carter chuckled. “I guess I did ask for that, didn’t I?”

“I would say so.” I collapsed on the bed, knees weak. Conversing with this werewolf was like pushing a boulder. Uphill. During a monsoon.

“Hey, it got you talking to me, at least—even if it was to insult me,” Carter said. Then his voice turned serious. “You and I need to meet.”

“Yes, I suppose we do.”

“I’ll give you directions to my house and—”

“No.” He couldn’t be serious.

“Excuse me?”

How much arrogance could a person cram into two words? “I’m not coming on your pac… your, ah… your place. No way.”

“You have my word you won’t be harmed.”

Whoop-de-freaking-do. “That’s nice and all, but I’m still not coming there.”

“Well, I can’t come to you without permission from your… from Dolf.”

That was definitely a no too. “I agree. That’s not a good idea either.”

Dolf and the rest of the betas were already too interested in my life. The nosy bunch of felines would probably hide in the surrounding trees if Carter came here. It wouldn’t be curiosity killing the cat; it’d be me.

“Then what do you suggest, because we do need to meet. I’m afraid I really must insist.”

I almost told him he could insist until he turned blue in the face, but I was trying to be civil. “I think somewhere neutral would be better.”

“And private.”

I hesitated. Private meant isolated, and isolated meant… well, isolated. Although I understood why he’d request that—we didn’t have to watch what we said if humans were not about—I didn’t know this Alpha. He was my mate and wasn’t supposed to be able to hurt me, but did I really want to put that to the test?

“I… fine. I will tell Dolf where I’m going to be, though.”

“You should. Temple and Shea will know where I am too.”

I’d forgotten all about his betas. “You’re coming alone, correct?”

“I… no. I can’t. You know that. Would you allow Dolf to go somewhere unescorted?”

Damn. He had a point. Alphas never went anywhere without at least one beta with them. Now what? “So you’re going to have one of them with you?”

“I’m afraid so. That’s nonnegotiable, and you know why.”

This was turning into a massive headache, and we hadn’t even laid eyes on each other yet. I growled softly. “I am not discussing anything of a personal nature with you as long as you have an extra set of ears listening in.”

“Which is why I suggested you come here. It’s easier.”

Of course it was—for them. I didn’t find anything about going there easy. The idea of being the lone cat surrounded by nothing but wolves was intimidating. In shifted form they were bigger and heavier than my cat, which was the size of a large Savannah.

While we could be arrogant, we had nothing on werewolves. Ha! Arrogant. The word described them perfectly, along with sarcastic, bossy, and vain. They acted as if the rest of us shifters should bow down to them.

If Carter came here, one of his betas would be with him. Plus they’d have to spend several nights, considering Carter’s pack land was several hours away. I was uncomfortable offering Carter my guest room, but I might’ve done it. But his beta too? Not happening. That was one werewolf too many.

Having two strange males—who were werewolves—under the same roof with me was more than I could handle. Not to mention I only had the one spare guest room, and I couldn’t see Temple and Carter sharing a bed.

My cat immediately growled his opinion on that. I’d probably fillet that sucker if he tried to get into bed with my mate… oh no. Banging my head against the nearest wall was looking better and better. I was getting possessive of Carter, which was a bad sign. A very, very bad sign.

“Aidric?”

“What?” I snapped.

“I’ve already given you my word nothing bad will happen to you here.”

“That’s supposed to reassure me?”

The growl that came across the phone line lifted the hair on the back of my neck.

“You question my word? My word? That’s an insult in so many ways I don’t know where to begin.”

By the goddess’s right paw, what was I thinking? “Okay. That was uncalled for, and I apologize, but you have to understand how uncomfortable this makes me.”

“Apology accepted. I do understand, and I promise you if any of my wolves lays a hand on you, they will regret it.”

Well, hell. He meant it. I heard the conviction in his voice and pinched the bridge of my nose. A voice in the back of my head whispered this was a disaster waiting to happen, but I couldn’t see a way around it.

It’d be easier for me to go there, even though the thought left me trembling. On the other hand, what better way to see if I could tolerate living among the wolves? Better to find out now before we mated, than later when there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

“Fine. I’ll come there.” I clutched the phone as my stomach dropped to somewhere around my knees. “But understand this—the moment I feel threatened, I’m out of there.”

“Understood. If that happens, I want to know about it immediately, because you won’t feel that way for long, I promise you. Would you consent to staying for a couple of nights?”

Yep, the aforementioned headache just sank its claws into the base of my neck. “Might as well.”

“Thank you. I know this is difficult, but all I ask is that we sit down and discuss this like two rational adults.”

Then we were already screwed, because I’d never known a werewolf to be rational, but why throw that into the conversation? “Agreed. Send me your address so I can program it into the GPS.”

“I will. Is the snow awful down there?”

Oh yay. Small talk and the ever-safe topic of the weather. “No. Not really. The temperature is supposed to rise tomorrow. That’ll get it melting quickly.” Which sucked, but it was better for driving. “I need to talk with Dolf and square this with him so I can have the time off. I’ll probably leave tomorrow after lunch. Since it’ll be Sunday, the traffic shouldn’t be too bad.”

“Excellent. Send me a text so I know when you leave.”

Already with the demands. “How about you ask me to send you a text? I’m not Temple or Shea, even though I hold the same rank. And you’re not my Alp… well. You know. You might want to remember that.”

“But I do hold the same rank as Dolf. You might want to remember that.”

I gritted my teeth. We were already off to a rip-roaring start. “While I am perfectly willing to give you the respect your rank deserves, I kiss nobody’s ass. If you want me to do something, ask instead of demand. I’m your mate, not your beta.” I cursed softly for my slip of the tongue.

“You’re right. I….” Carter sighed. “Will you send me a text before you leave?”

That was better. A firm believer in starting out how I meant to go on, I answered him in the perkiest voice I could muster. “Sure. I can do that.”

“I’ll see you when you get here. Have a good evening. Good night.”

“You too. Good night.” On that cheerful note, I ended the call and slipped my cell back into my jeans pocket.

If we didn’t kill each other within the first hour, it’d be a miracle.

About the Author

M.A. Church is a true Southern belle who spent many years in the elementary education sector. Now she spends her days lost in fantasy worlds, arguing with hardheaded aliens on far-off planets, herding her numerous shifters, or trying to tempt her country boys away from their fishing poles. It’s a full-time job, but hey, someone’s gotta do it!

When not writing, she’s exploring the latest M/M novel to hit the market, watching her beloved Steelers, or watching HGTV. That’s if she’s not on the back porch tending to the demanding wildlife around the pond in the backyard. The ducks are very outspoken. She’s married to her high school sweetheart, and they have two children.

She is a member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America.

Contact M.A.:

Blog: http://machurch00.blogspot.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/nomoretears00
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/nomoretears00
Facebook: www.facebook.com/pages/MA-Church
The Harvest FB fan page: www.facebook.com/#!/theharvest00
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/MAChurch
Amazon: www.amazon.com/M.A.-Church/e/B007A8JA4C
Email: nomoretears00@hotmail.com

Love Murder Mysteries? Second Chance at Love? Check Out Hell and Back by Dirk Greyson (excerpt)

Hell and Back by Dirk Greyson
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Cover Art: L.C. Chase

Release Date: Oct 27 2017

Book Links: Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Dreamspinner Press

Blurb/Synopsis:

Seventeen years ago, Forge Reynolds fell in love… and had his heart broken. When Gage Livingston was brought into Forge’s Army field hospital, temporarily paralyzed, Forge sat with him, read his letters, answered his mail, and formed a connection he thought would last. But Gage was sent home, Forge transferred to a new post, and Forge’s letters to Gage went unanswered.

Now, in the middle of a bitter divorce, Forge is sick and tired of his husband’s manipulation and is almost ready to make any sacrifice to get closure, and then he finds Granger murdered execution-style in their home. Forge had no idea about Granger’s illicit activities, but the killers don’t believe that. They think Forge has something they want, and they’re coming after him.

When Forge’s lawyer arranges for professional protection, the last face Forge expects to see is Gage’s. Can he even contemplate a second chance for them after almost two decades or will hoping only lead to more heartache? Before they can explore the possibilities, they must figure out what information Granger had—and others are willing to kill for—or that possible heartache could become a certainty

Genre: M/M, Paranormal Romance, Shifters
Edition/Formats Available In: eBook & Print

Excerpt

Gage went through the house to turn out the interior lights before settling in the family room in front of the television with the volume on low, listening for anything out of the ordinary. One thing the Army had done a good job of training into him was patience. He could sit in a mostly empty house and listen for nothing for hours.

A lot of his jobs were hurry up and wait. This one had seemed like it would be more active. When the call had come in to the office, he’d been about to go off duty. Margie, his receptionist, had relayed who was calling and what they needed. That woman never seemed to sleep and had forwarded the office phone to her cell.. There had been no one else available, so he’d sprung into action and hurried home to get a bag together. It wasn’t until he’d been driving and Margie called to give him the particulars that he’d heard the name and nearly run off the road.

After all these years, to run into Forge again, and under these circumstances….

He turned toward the stairs and got up to make a round through the house, then checked outside just to ensure everything was quiet.

Forge Reynolds. Gage sat down, turned off the television, and retrieved his bag to pull out his iPad so he could read for a while. After a few minutes of reading the same page over and over, he set it aside, leaned back, and closed his eyes. Concentration wasn’t something he had at the moment.

Almost instantly he was lying in a hospital bed.

He’d been hit with shrapnel, a ton of it if what he’d been told was true, and a piece had nicked his upper spine. He couldn’t walk or use his arms at first. And he’d never forget the day a man, about his own age, sat in the chair next to his bed and picked up the pile of letters on his tray. They hadn’t wanted to transport him in case it caused more damage, and his family couldn’t visit him where he was, so old-fashioned communication was the best way.

“Would you like me to read them to you?” The man’s voice had been mellow and gentle, at odds with most things in the Army.

“Please,” he’d said softly. At least he’d been able to talk.

Forge had opened the first envelope and read Gage the letter from his mother, then a second one. The third envelope contained one from his mother and one from his dad, and Forge read both. Gage had been tired and fallen asleep, but when he woke, the man was still there. He picked up a pen and paper and asked if he wanted to write a letter. “My name’s Specialist Forge Reynolds, by the way. I never did tell you.”

“Gage Staff Sergeant Livingston. Gage,” he’d croaked, hating the way his voice sounded. He remembered feeling useless, helpless, and wanting to die. And when he’d dictated that first letter, all of it had come out in a burst of self-pity and loathing that Forge had faithfully written down, showed to him, and then ripped to shreds.

About the Author

Dirk is very much an outside kind of man. He loves travel and seeing new things. Dirk worked in corporate America for way too long and now spends his days writing, gardening, and taking care of the home he shares with his partner of more than two decades. He has a Master’s Degree and all the other accessories that go with a corporate job. But he is most proud of the stories he tells and the life he’s built. Dirk lives in Pennsylvania in a century old home and is blessed with an amazing circle of friends.

Author Links

Other Works by Dirk Greyson

Yellowstone Wolves Series

Challenge the Darkness

Darkness Threatening

Darkness Rising

Day and Knight Series

Day and Knight

Sun and Shadow

Dawn and Dusk

Standalone Titles

An Assassin’s Holiday

Flight or Fight

Playing With Fire

Lost Mate

Hell and Back

Ari of Ari McKay on Fortune’s Slings and Cupid’s Arrows (Lawyers in Love #2) (guest post and exclusive excerpt)

Fortune’s Slings and Cupid’s Arrows (Lawyers in Love #2) by Ari McKay
Dreamspinner Press
Cover art by Bree Archer

Buy Links: Dreamspinner Press | Amazon | Barnes & Noble

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to have Ari of Ari McKay here today talking about their latest release Fortune’s Slings and Cupid’s Arrows. Welcome, Ari.

✒︎

Hello everybody! Ari here, of Ari McKay. I’m very grateful to the folks at Scattered Thoughts for having me on the blog today, and to you for reading it!

I’m here to talk about our latest released from Dreamspinner Press, Fortune’s Slings and Cupid’s Arrows. This is a re-release of an older story, and one that we have substantially rewritten from the original. So if you read the first edition of the story, you might be surprised at how much has changed!

The story concerns Dane Coulter, a lawyer who is intelligent, handsome, charismatic… and also under the thumb of his overbearing father, who owns the law firm where Dane works. Dane’s father is one of those nightmare parents that I hope no one reading this has had to deal with. My mother was such a parent, and believe me, it’s not easy to break away when you’ve been raised your entire life to feel that you are subject to the whims of a parent. Dane has been repressed to the point that he denies his own sexuality, and feels that he has little choice when his father pushes him toward marriage in order to provide an heir for the Coulter dynasty.

The one bright point in Dane’s life is his friendship with Cal Monroe. Cal is out, proud, head of a rival law firm and an avowed enemy of Randolph Coulter. Cal is also in love with Dane, though Dane doesn’t know it. Cal has kept his feelings to himself, not wanting to add to Dane’s problems by making Dane feel he’s being pressured into a relationship in order to retain Cal’s friendship and support.

Things come to a head, however, when Cal reads Dane’s engagement announcement in the New York Times. Cal reveals his feelings to Dane, and now Dane finds himself caught between two strong men. The decision Dane reaches about his future and what he does about it… well, that’s what we want to give you a chance to find out!

And now, here is an exclusive excerpt from the story. We hope you enjoy it!

Exclusive Excerpt

Cal spoke briefly to his secretary, then made his way to the elevator lobby. When the car arrived, he was surprised to see Dane inside. He entered quickly, wondering if fate was somehow smiling on his plan. It was one thing for him to confront Randolph, but even better for Dane to be able to see it.

They were alone in the car, and Cal made a sudden decision. He reached past Dane and flipped the toggle that set the car from “run” to “stop”. The elevator abruptly ceased its downward motion.

He regarded Dane for a moment, noting the lines of strain on Dane’s face. Of course Dane often looked stressed, which was another bit of Randolph’s doing. Offering Dane a smile, he stepped closer. “Hey. How are you doing?”

Dane’s answering smile was sweet and shy as he glanced sidelong at Cal. “I’m okay. How about you?” he asked, a hint of worry creeping into his voice.

It was all Cal could do not to drop his briefcase and pull Dane into his arms. Now that he’d told Dane how he felt, he didn’t want to maintain the careful distance he’d kept for the last two years. He wanted to hold Dane and soothe the line from between his eyes, to kiss him and tell him everything was going to be all right. But he told himself that now wasn’t the time; Dane didn’t need another man making demands on him that he wasn’t ready for and might not welcome.

“I’m fine. Preparing for battle,” he said, his smile turning hard. “I’m actually on my way to take on your father. Since you’re here, too, I wanted to warn you, so that you can step back and maintain plausible deniability.”

Dane’s eyes widened in alarm, and he touched Cal’s arm lightly. “Are you sure you want to go through with this? I don’t want you or your career to suffer because of me.”

Cal reached up to cover Dane’s hand with his own, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. “I absolutely want to go through with it. I’ve not changed my mind, Dane. I love you, and I’m going to fight for you. I’m going to show you that your father can be beaten.”

Dane lowered his gaze and gnawed on his bottom lip. “I hope you’re right,” he said softly. “I’m not sure I could live with myself if something happened to you. It would be my fault.”

“No, it wouldn’t.” Cal moved his hand, running his fingers over Dane’s cheek in a brief, gentle caress. “I’m making this decision, right? You aren’t forcing me, you didn’t even ask me to do anything. By rights, you could even be angry at me for butting into your life. I really hope you aren’t, but either way, nothing that happens is your fault. I meant what I said, Dane. The only thing your rat bastard of a father can do to hurt me is to hurt you.”

Dane looked up at Cal, and although he didn’t seem entirely convinced, he nodded. “I’m not angry. I’m worried. But I know better than to argue when you’re wearing your war plaid,” he said, smoothing his fingertips along the length of Cal’s tie.

“Girdin’ meself for battle, laddie,” Cal replied in an exaggerated brogue. He chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ve been taking on men worse than your father for years. Speaking of which…” He reached out, and flipped the elevator back to “run”. “He’s on his way back to the office now, and I don’t want to miss him. I just didn’t want you caught in a crossfire between he and I.”

“Should I pretend to ignore you or try not to let Father spot me in the area?” Dane asked.

Cal considered for a moment. “Just ignore me. I’m not your friend anymore, right? I’ll act frosty to you and you can return the favor. All the better to let him see we’re at odds, rather than just having your word for it.”

“He’d definitely want proof,” Dane said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. “He wouldn’t take my word for it.”

“Yeah,” Cal smiled mirthlessly, then glanced up at the floor indicator, which slid from 4 to 3 to 2. “Showtime. I’m hoping I timed this right. He’ll probably have his normal retinue, so there should be plenty of witnesses.”

With a last smile at Dane, Cal turned to the door, then assumed a hard expression, as though he were angry. As the elevator doors slid open he strode out quickly, moving brusquely past people who were waiting enter the car. He didn’t look back to see what Dane was doing, because to his immense satisfaction he spotted Randolph Coulter standing in the lobby, holding court with a small cluster of young men from his firm who seemed to be hanging on his every word. His timing had been just about perfect.

Blurb

Successful attorneys Dane Coulter and Cal Monroe are rivals in the courtroom and friends behind the scenes. But can they be more?

Cal’s always carried a torch for Dane, but Dane is so deep in the closet, he can’t even admit that he might be gay. His father, a raging homophobe who rules the family with an iron fist, forces Dane into an engagement—to a woman. Dane goes along with it to keep the peace and protect his mother, but for Cal, it’s the last straw.

He can’t let Dane make a mistake that could ruin the rest of his life, and he only knows one surefire way to make Dane admit what’s in his heart. But confessing his feelings to his friend could backfire, driving a wedge between them. And even then, the choice must be Dane’s—to live the life his father wants, or to give up everything he has for a chance at happiness in Cal’s arms.

About the Authors

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:

Website: http://arimckay.wordpress.com

Facebook author page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Ari-Mckay/266185570179748

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ari.mckay.7

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AriMcKay1

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6153630.Ari_McKay

Anne Barwell on Writing, Characters and her new release One Word (Hidden Places #3) (author interview,excerpt and giveaway)

One Word (Hidden Places #3) by Anne Barwell
Dreamspinner Press
Cover art by

Available for Purchase at Dreamspinner Press

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to host Anne Barwell here today on her One Word tour. Welcome, Anne, and thanks for answering some of our author questions for us.

✒︎

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words Interview with Anne Barwell

Thanks for hosting me today as part of my blog tour for One Word, the 3^rd book in my Hidden Places series from Dreamspinner Press.

Has your choice of childhood or teenage reading genres carried into your own choices for writing?

Yes, definitely. When my brother and I were kids, my dad introduced us to the SF genre, and both of us were hooked very quickly. I still read a lot of SF, although I tend to drift more into fantasy these days because there is more of it about. It was the other way around then. I write what I like to read, so a lot of my stories have SF or fantasy elements to them. I also write historical although my interest in those didn’t come until later, although some of that was because of stories Dad told about family history.

Do you like HFN or HEA? And why?

I’m happy with either. I think some stories work well with a HEA, but some don’t. With an MM historical a HEA is often not feasible, given the penalties for being found in a homosexual relationship. Also, I think that often stories are a slice of someone’s life, so I like to think of the characters continuing their story after the final page of the book. Life doesn’t always tie everything up in a pretty bow, so stories shouldn’t always need to either.

Do you read romances, as a teenager and as an adult?

I didn’t read romances as a teenager, and only started reading them in recent years. I enjoy them, although I still tend to lean toward the genre romances such as SF, fantasy, historical etc. Sometimes, though, I just want something lighter and I have a few favourite authors I turn to for that.

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

Susan Cooper, who wrote the Dark is Rising fantasy series is a big influence. I blame her for my interest in fantasy and anything Arthurian. Madeleine L’Engle is another. I love A Wrinkle in Time and the other books in that series, and the way her other books, although in another series, were connected and had characters in common.

More recently reading Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series inspired me to start writing again as an adult. Tanya Huff is another one. They’re also both mainstream writers who have gay characters in their fiction.

How do you choose your covers? (curious on my part)

Instead of a scene from the story, I like my covers to reflect elements of the story and its characters. Most of the story in One Word takes place in a small English village hence the background on the cover. The Morris Minor is Donovan’s pride and joy—and was also the car I learnt to drive in. Ethan is a Maths and Science teacher, hence the mathematical equations as part of the background.

Do you have a favorite among your own stories? And why?

That’s like trying to choose a favourite child. One that will always stand out for me is Shadowboxing which is book 1 of my WWII Echoes Rising series. I’m proud of that story, and the series, and it was the first story I wrote that I knew was going to be a novel—it turned into a three book series.

If you write contemporary romance, is there such a thing as making a main character too “real”? Do you think you can bring too many faults into a character that eventually it becomes too flawed to become a love interest?

I prefer my characters flawed, but in saying that I think they still need to be likeable. If they have no redeemable features why would someone fall in love with them? On the flip side, people aren’t perfect and I’d be very suspicious, and think a main character was unrealistic, if he or she was cheerful all the time and didn’t have the occasional bad mood. There are things in this life that would make anyone grumpy. Ditto for someone who never makes mistakes—the saying comes to mind about not knowing that Mr. Right’s first name was Always.

With so much going on in the world today, do you write to explain? To get away? To move past? To wide our knowledge? Why do you write?

I write because I have characters who want their stories told. With life being a bit stressful at times, I enjoy being able to escape into another world, and giving these guys the happy endings they deserve. However, I do believe in making them work for that HFN or HEA.

What’s next for you as a writer?

My next book is called Prelude to Love and releases from Dreamspinner on 2^nd January as part of their Dreamspun Desire range. I loved writing this story as it’s set locally, plus one of the main characters is a music teacher so I didn’t need to do a lot of research. Here’s the blurb:
Music speaks directly to the heart.

Two very different men face turning points in their lives after the collapse of long-term relationships….

Joel is a music teacher who knows it’s time to forget his ex and move on, while Marcus runs a lawn-mowing business and has come to Wellington to escape the reminders of a recent breakup. Although they’re opposites, when Joel and Marcus connect, their romance has the potential to hit all the right notes.

Too bad neither of them feels ready for new love.

With family and friends in common, dating is risky—things could get messy if it doesn’t work out. The sweet song of possibility draws them to each other, though, and they share a kiss following a Chopin prelude. But it will take some practice and perseverance to find their perfect harmony….

Once my blog tour for One Word is finished, I’m getting back into writing The Harp and the Sea, which I’m co-writing with Lou Sylvre. It’s an historical with a dash of fantasy set in 1745 on the Isle of Skye. While she’s writing her part of it, I’ll be working on A Sword to Rule which is the second and final book in my fantasy Dragons of Astria series.

One Word Blurb

A Hidden Places Story

Ethan Leavitt arrives in the idyllic village of Oakwood to search for a missing friend. Having always prided himself on his ability to find rational explanations, Ethan’s trust in concrete evidence and logic is tested by the mystery of Oakwood and Tomas’s disappearance.

Donovan Campbell’s happy, sometimes flippant, exterior hides a past he’d rather forget. As he struggles with his memories and to hold on to the inn he owns with his best friend, the last thing Donovan needs is for some guy he’s only just met to start getting under his skin. When a bank robbery escalates into a dangerous situation, Donovan must embrace a part of himself he can no longer ignore in order to save a future that might never have the chance to exist.

Ethan learns that often the person you’re looking for is not the one you find. But have he and Donovan both realized that too late…?

Excerpt

“If you want to talk anytime, I don’t mind listening.” Donovan glanced at the screen, then back to Ethan. Everyone else in the room was focused on the movie, and he’d kept his voice low so they wouldn’t be overheard. “Not now of course, but later.”

“I’m fine,” Ethan repeated. He edged toward the other end of the sofa, away from Donovan. “Thanks, though,” he added quickly. He did appreciate the offer, but it wasn’t a good idea.

“Time for a break,” Heidi announced, grabbing the remote and hitting Pause. “Doug and Mikey, come help me make drinks and bring in supper.”

“I don’t—” Mikey started to stay.

Doug cut him off. “I don’t know about you, Mikey, but one of the first things I learned about Heidi is that she means she really needs help but doesn’t want to admit it.” He winked at Mikey. “I’m sure Indy wouldn’t leave a lady in need to fend for herself.”

“Well, if you put it that way, I suppose.” Mikey got to his feet and followed Heidi out of the room. “Heidi, do you think Dad would mind if I texted him to see how Granddad is?”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t,” Heidi replied. “I think it’s a great idea.”

“Nice psychology there, Doug,” Ethan said. He didn’t think for a moment that Heidi needed the help, considering how organized she was.

“About as subtle as Heidi,” Donovan murmured. “The two of you are a match made in heaven, I swear.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my hearing either,” Doug said, although he didn’t sound offended by Donovan’s comment. “I’m going to help out in the kitchen.” He collected the empty popcorn bowl. “We’ll be at least five minutes.”

“Yeah, real subtle,” Donovan said.

“Huh?” Ethan wasn’t sure what Donovan was on about. “I think it’s sweet that Doug likes helping Heidi in the kitchen. A lot of guys don’t, and one person in the relationship gets to do all the work.”

Another mark against Duncan.

Perhaps the long walk Ethan had taken that morning hadn’t been such a great idea. It had given him too much time to think, and reflection wasn’t something he did well, especially of late.

“Yeah, he looks after her. I’d be having words with him if he didn’t.” Donovan cleared his throat. “You seem real distracted this evening, Ethan. Did something happen?”

“I’m not distracted,” Ethan said. “I’m enjoying the movie.”

The last part of what he’d said was true, at least. It appeared there was something to the genre Tomas had spent years trying to get him to read and watch after all.

“Uh-huh.” Donovan put his hands behind his head and leaned back on the sofa, keeping his tone casual. “That’s what all the stuff about helping out in the kitchen was about. Doug and Heidi are both good at reading people. You’ve gotten more and more distracted and agitated over the past twenty minutes or so. I bet if I asked you what was happening in the movie before Heidi hit Pause, you wouldn’t be able to tell me.”

“I know exactly what’s going on,” Ethan said indignantly. “And weren’t you supposed to be watching the movie instead of me? Can you tell me what happened in the last five minutes?”

“I’ve seen it before. I can quote this movie in my sleep, so answering that question isn’t going to prove anything.”

“So you admit you were watching me?”

Donovan blushed bright red. For a moment, he seemed flustered as hell. “Umm… I mean…. You’re changing the focus of this conversation onto me.”

“So?” Ethan brushed imaginary crumbs from his jeans. He sighed. As much as he thought Donovan looked hot—

No, not going there.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Ethan tried again. “I appreciate your concern, but it’s not something I want to talk about. With anyone.” He attempted an olive branch, not because he wanted to, but because…. The last thing he wanted was to upset anyone, and especially not Donovan.

“Don’t worry, it’s not about Tomas. If I’d heard something, I would have told you, okay? I know you’re concerned about him too.”

“Okay.” Donovan raised his arms in mock surrender. “I won’t ask about your crap if you don’t ask about mine.”

“I was only being concerned last night,” Ethan protested. Surely Donovan wasn’t going to bring that up now, after pretending it hadn’t existed all day?

“That’s all I’m doing now,” Donovan said softly. “Deal?”

“Oh.” Ethan ignored the way his cheeks flamed. Donovan had neatly turned Ethan’s indignation back on himself. “Point taken.” He took a deep breath, knowing he didn’t have any option but to agree. “Deal.”

Buy Link: https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/one-word-by-anne-barwell-9001-b

Giveaway

Rafflecopter Giveaway:

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Rafflecopter:

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/96bb1f282/?

You can find the list of sites taking part in the blog tour here:

https://annebarwell.wordpress.com/blog-hops/

November 3 – Open Skye Book Reviews
November 6 – Book Reviews and More by Kathy
November 6 – Top to Bottom Reviews
November 6 – Two Men Are Better Than One
November 6 – Gay Book Promotions
November 7 – Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words
November 8 – Happily Ever After Chapter
November 9 – Love Bytes Reviews
November 10 – Boy Meets Boy Reviews
November 10 – Nic Starr
November 13 – The Novel Approach Reviews
November 14 – Dreamspinner Press Blog
November 15 – Aisling Mancy

About the Author

Anne Barwell lives in Wellington, New Zealand. She shares her home with two cats who are convinced that the house is run to suit them; this is an ongoing “discussion,” and to date it appears as though the cats may be winning.

In 2008 she completed her conjoint BA in English Literature and Music/Bachelor of Teaching. She has worked as a music teacher, a primary school teacher, and now works in a library. She is a member of the Upper Hutt Science Fiction Club and plays violin for Hutt Valley Orchestra.

She is an avid reader across a wide range of genres and a watcher of far too many TV series and movies, although it can be argued that there is no such thing as “too many.” These, of course, are best enjoyed with a decent cup of tea and further the continuing argument that the concept of “spare time” is really just a myth. She also hosts other authors, reviews for the GLBTQ Historical Site “Our Story” and Top2Bottom Reviews, and writes monthly blog posts for Authors Speak and Love Bytes.

Anne’s books have received honorable mentions four times and reached the finals three times in the Rainbow Awards. She has also been nominated twice in the Goodreads M/M Romance Reader’s Choice Awards—once for Best Fantasy and once for Best Historical.

Website & Blog: http://annebarwell.wordpress.com/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/anne.barwell.1
Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/sylvrebarwellhoffmann/
Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/115084832208481414034/posts
Instagram: https://instagram.com/anne.barwell
Twitter: https://twitter.com/annebarwell
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4862410.Anne_Barwell
Dreamspinner Press Author Page: https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/authors/anne-barwell-65
DSP Publications Author Page:https://www.dsppublications.com/authors/anne-barwell-49
Queeromance Ink Author Page: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/anne-barwell/
New Zealand Rainbow Romance Writers: https://www.facebook.com/groups/491382394538058/

Bru Baker on Getting to know Tate, Werewolf camp counselor and her release Camp H.O.W.L. (author guest blog)

Camp H.O.W.L. by Bru Baker

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: Aaron Anderson
Release date: Nov. 1, 2017

Buy links:

Dreamspinner Press, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Google Play

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to have Bru Baker here on her Camp H.O.W.L. tour. Welcome, Bru.

Getting to know Tate, werewolf camp counselor by day, hermit by night

Hi, I’m Bru Baker, and I’m continuing my release tour for Camp H.O.W.L. here on Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words. Thanks for joining me, and thanks to Melanie, Stella, and the rest of the review crew here for having me here today.

I introduced everyone to brand new werewolf (affectionately labeled fail!wolf in my notes because he’s a late bloomer and in denial at first) Adrian yesterday on Love Bytes, so today I’m going to talk about Tate, the werewolf psychologist/camp counselor to troubled werewolf teens who Adrian ends up accidentally bonded to.

Tate went into psychology to help ensure that no wolfling had to deal with the same kinds of trauma and neglect he was raised in as part of a remote pack of werewolf supremacists who shunned human society and lived ruled by their baser instincts. It was no place for a reserved, thoughtful guy like Tate, and he escaped as soon as he was old enough to board a bus on his own and set out for college.

He’s been at Camp H.O.W.L. for years, and while he does have friends on the staff, Tate uses the camp as a crutch to help him avoid relationships. He spends his days surrounded by teenagers in the middle of the forest–it’s safe to say Tate isn’t known for putting himself out there with other adults. In the excerpt I’m sharing today, we see Tate trying to talk himself out of his attraction to Adrian, but his friend and mentor at the camp isn’t having any of it.

Blurb

Moonmates exist, but getting together is going to be a beast….

When Adrian Rothschild skipped his “werewolf puberty,” he assumed he was, somehow, human. But he was wrong, and he’s about to go through his Turn with a country between him and his Pack—scared, alone, and eight years late.

Dr. Tate Lewis’s werewolf supremacist father made his Turn miserable, and now Tate works for Camp H.O.W.L. to ease the transition for young werewolves. He isn’t expecting to offer guidance to a grown man—or find his moonmate in Adrian. Tate doesn’t even believe in the legendary bond; after all, his polygamist father claimed five. But it’s clear Adrian needs him, and if Tate can let his guard down, he might discover he needs Adrian too.

A moonmate is a wolf’s missing piece, and Tate is missing a lot of pieces. But is Adrian up to the challenge?

Genre: Paranormal Romance
Length: 238 pages
Tags: Gay; M/M; werewolves; Dreamspun Beyond

Excerpt

He’d expected living with Adrian to be difficult, but it wasn’t. And that upset him more than the thought of sharing space with someone who inconvenienced him. Adrian didn’t inconvenience him. Not in the least. Tate liked having him there. They’d been living in each other’s pockets for two weeks, and by all rights Tate should be climbing the walls—but he wasn’t. He looked forward to coming back to the cabin and having someone there to talk to. The way their scents had mingled in the shared spaces was maddening, but also comforting. For the first time he could remember, the cabin felt cozy and welcoming.

They were on the same page almost across the board—when they liked to eat, what they did in their free time, balancing quiet time with time spent hanging out. Adrian had slipped into Tate’s daily routine seamlessly. He was the ideal roommate, which should have been a good thing.

It wasn’t. Not by a long shot. Because along with the inside jokes and comfortable companionship came smoldering looks and flirty banter that made Tate’s inner wolf sing—and the rest of him shy away.

“Tell me again how it annoys you that he puts the cap back on the toothpaste,” Kenya drawled, and Tate scowled at her from his place on the floor.

“Don’t make it sound childish,” he snapped, aware he was being incredibly juvenile even as he said it.

“It sounds to me like you’re just looking for reasons the two of you aren’t a good match,” she said, and he threw the balled-up sock he had in one hand at her.

She caught it deftly, unfurled it, and examined it. “I was looking for that one!” she said triumphantly, matching it to one in her basket and folding them together.

“Remind me again why I agreed to help you fold your laundry?” Tate asked as he sought out more socks from the pile.

“Because you’re having an existential crisis, and I told you I couldn’t counsel you officially because the existential crisis is about one of my patients?”

Tate threw the unmatched socks back on the pile and lay back down, spreading out on her carpet. “It’s not an existential crisis.”

“It isn’t,” she agreed. “It’s not a crisis at all. It’s a good thing, and you don’t know how to deal with that. You, Tate Lewis, actually don’t know a good thing when it bites you in the ass, and that’s partly my fault. I should have made you go out and do more things before you installed yourself here as the camp hermit.”

He rolled up to his side and glared at her. “I am not the camp hermit.”

“You never leave the grounds. That makes this your hermitage.” She frowned. “Is that a word? Hermitude? No, that would be your hermit-y attitude. Hermitage, I’m sticking with that. We’ll get you a plaque made to put outside your cabin. Tate’s Hermitage.”

He groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. “And you can’t make me do anything, anyway. I’m my own man.”

“Sure you are, sugar,” she said sweetly. He didn’t doubt that if they’d been close enough, she would have patted his hand. “So be your own man on this and man up and make a move!”

Camp H.O.W.L. by Bru Baker

About the Author

Bru Baker spent fifteen years writing for newspapers before making the jump to fiction. She now balances her time between writing and working at a Midwestern library in the reference department. Most evenings you can find her curled up with a mug of tea, some fuzzy socks, and a book or her laptop. Whether it’s creating her own characters or getting caught up in someone else’s, there’s no denying that Bru is happiest when she’s engrossed in a story. She and her husband have two children, which means a lot of her books get written from the sidelines of various sports practices.

Visit Bru online at www.bru-baker.com or follow her on Facebook or Twitter.

Anna Butler Scarabs, Inspiration and her latest release The Jackal’s House ( Lancaster’s Luck #2) (guest post, excerpt, and giveaway)

The Jackal’s House ( Lancaster’s Luck#2) by Anna Butler
Dreamspinner Press

Publication Date: 30 October 2017
Cover Artist: Reese Dante,Illustrator (Map): Margaret Warner

Buy Links

Dreamspinner Press ebook | Dreamspinner Press paperback

Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk | Kobo | Apple iBooks –

Kobo

B&N

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to have Anna Butler here today on her tour for The Jackal’s House. Welcome, Anna.

✒︎

The Tickle Of Scarabs’ Feet by Anna Butler

You might have thought I got scarabs out of my system with the first Rafe and Ned book, The Gilded Scarab, but no, not quite. I couldn’t see how to set a book in Aegypt and not include the most mystical beetle of all somewhere. Scarabs are so quintessentially Egyptian, Rafe himself remarks, “I was fated to be haunted by the damned things.” So in The Jackal’s House I gave him a couple of experiences of my own where scarabs are concerned. One was rather sad, when my first ever live scarab ended up as a lizard’s lunch, so we won’t revisit that here. That’s rather too strong a reminder of how death is the prevailing characteristic of Ancient Egypt!

Instead, here’s something more heartwarming.

Years ago, in Sakkara, after walking around Djoser’s step pyramid and laying my hand on five thousand years given physical shape, after the cool of the Serapeum where bulls were once feted as gods and mummified like pharaohs, there was a tomb on the desert fringe. I don’t remember now whose tomb it was. Some Old Kingdom noble whose coloured statue still sat in the niche, the serdab, where once his family laid offerings of food and wine. In the doorway to his tomb, in a shallow depression in the sand, the scarabs ran and scuttled. They’re big and black. I was the only member of our group who picked one up and let it sit there, filling the palm of my hand. I’ll admit right now I was a little bit worried that it would bite—those beetles have big jaws. But it didn’t. It just sat there, quite patiently, waiting for me to be done playing. And when I set it down again, and tilted my hand to let it run off back onto the sand. I laughed. Maybe slightly from relief at being unbitten, but mostly because its legs and feet tickled the skin of my palm as it went.

I love beetles. They’re the gems of the insect world, their bodies showing an astonishing range of colour and pattern, often in rich,

jewel colours: ruby red, sapphire, a glorious emerald green. Admittedly, the dull black sacred scarabs of Egypt don’t quite fall into that category, but they have deserts and pyramids on their side instead. They’re emblematic of sand, the Nile, and skies that are the colour of beaten copper at noon—mysterious, a symbol of the romance of ancient Egypt. I can forgive them for being a little dull to look at.

I’m in poetic mood today, for some reason. My husband and I visited Egypt for our first wedding anniversary and now I’ve been writing about archaeological expeditions there, I’ve been thinking a lot about that trip to Egypt. So much of it is in my heart and memory, and certainly one highlight was a big black beetle that consented to sit on my hand for a moment.

You know, I’m not surprised that so much of my writing has a scarab running through it. Scarabs symbolise rebirth and new chances and starting again. Scarabs are about never giving in and how each morning the scarab lifts the disc of the sun up on its wide wings to signal the start of a new day.

That’s not a bad philosophy to live by. Or to write by.

And their feet tickle. You can’t ask better than that.

About The Book

Something is stalking the Aegyptian night and endangering the archaeologists excavating the mysterious temple ruins in Abydos. But is it a vengeful ancient spirit or a very modern conspiracy…

Rafe Lancaster’s relationship with Gallowglass First Heir, Ned Winter, flourishes over the summer of 1900, and when Rafe’s House encourages him to join Ned’s next archaeological expedition, he sees a chance for it to deepen further. Since all the Houses of the Britannic Imperium, Rafe’s included, view assassination as a convenient solution to most problems, he packs his aether pistol—just in case.

Trouble finds them in Abydos. Rafe and Ned begin to wonder if they’re facing opposition to the Temple of Seti being disturbed. What begins as tricks and pranks escalates to attacks and death, while the figure of the Dog—the jackal-headed god Anubis, ruler of death—casts a long shadow over the desert sands. Destruction follows in his wake as he returns to reclaim his place in Abydos. Can Rafe and Ned stand against both the god and House plots when the life of Ned’s son is on the line?

Genre: Steampunk adventure m/m romance
Wordcount: c111,600
Sequel to The Gilded Scarab

About The Series

The Gilded Scarab

The Jackal’s House

Lancaster’s Luck is set in a steampunk world where, at the turn of the 20^th century, the eight powerful Convocation Houses are the de facto rulers of the Britannic Imperium. In this world of politics and assassins, a world powered by luminiferous aether and phlogiston and where aeroships fill the skies, Captain Rafe Lancaster, late of Her Majesty’s Imperial Aero Corps, buys a coffee house in one of the little streets near the Britannic Museum in Bloomsbury.

So begins the romantic steampunk adventures which have Rafe, a member of Minor House Stravaigor, scrambling over Londinium’s rooftops on a sultry summer night or facing dire peril in the pitch dark of an Aegyptian night. And all the while, sharing the danger is the man he loves: Ned Winter, First Heir of Convocation House Gallowglass, the most powerful House in the entire Imperium.

Find out more about the Lancaster’s Luck books and the world of Rafe and Ned

Excerpt

We didn’t stay up late. It was barely ten when we headed up to our rooms on the second floor, trailed by Sam and Hugh. Todd was out at the aerodrome, keeping watch with his men over the Brunel.

“I’ll be glad to get back to the dig tomorrow,” Ned said. “Come and have a cigar and some brandy, Rafe.”

Which invitation I was quick to accept, as you might imagine. Hugh gave me a knowing grin and went off to his own room with nary a backward glance. Ned’s room, beside mine, overlooked the Ezbekieh Gardens. Sam had left the floor-to-ceiling windows open when we went down to dinner, the billowing muslin curtains filtering the sounds and smells of the Cairo night. The faint scent of woodsmoke and tarry aether rolled in as an autocar went by on its way to the Abdeen Palace where the Khedive held court.

Sam was suddenly the perfect servant. He brought Ned and me glasses of a fine champagne cognac and a box of fragrant cigars before moving on silent feet to close the window shutters against the night and light the lamp on a small table near the bed. The little screw-valve at the side of the globe squeaked as he turned it clockwise to open the pipe, the luminiferous aether hissing louder than a snake at the zoo when someone taps the glass sides of its terrarium. Sam adjusted each lamp to a warm glow inside the big glass globe by passing his hand over it. The lightning in the globe sprang into life, crackling and spitting as it followed his palm. He was careful not to make the room too bright, leaving thick dark shadows inhabiting the corners.

“I’ve locked the outer door, and I’ll sleep in there.” He nodded to a sort of anteroom that led to the main corridor. “I’ll close the door, but keep the noise down. I don’t want to hear nothing. G’night.”

It was difficult not to laugh. Dear Sam. I felt really quite mellow toward him, a sentiment he’d no doubt resent intensely. Ned grinned at me as soon as the door closed behind Sam, and dear Lord, but I just had to kiss him. Couldn’t help myself.

We took our time getting down to our skin. It wasn’t something to be rushed. Aesop’s tortoise had it almost right: less haste, more pleasure.

For a while I was content with kisses, Ned’s face so close that drowning in those hazel eyes was a real possibility. The touch of Ned’s tongue against mine had me making rather embarrassingly soft noises in the back of my throat. You know, getting lost for all eternity in those kisses, in the feel of Ned’s body pressed against mine… I couldn’t think of anything finer.

Our jackets were on the floor somewhere, long abandoned. Now all my attention was on tugging Ned’s shirt out from his trousers and running my hands up underneath it and over the heated skin beneath. Ned moaned and bucked his hips so hard that, laughing, I pulled my mouth from his. “Ah, you liked that, did you?”

Ned moistened his lips and pulled me in closer. “It wasn’t entirely disagreeable.”

Pfft!

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Enter the Rafflecoptor draw for

1st prize—$25 or equivalent Amazon gift card

2nd prize—a signed paperback of the first Lancaster’s Luck book, the Gilded Scarab.

Raffelcoptor code: Raffelcoptor link if can’t embed code: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/a6cd54479/?

About Anna

Anna was a communications specialist for many years, working in various UK government departments on everything from marketing employment schemes to organizing conferences for 10,000 civil servants to running an internal TV service. These days, though, she is writing full time. She recently moved out of the ethnic and cultural melting pot of East London to the rather slower environs of a quiet village tucked deep in the Nottinghamshire countryside, where she lives with her husband and the Deputy Editor, aka Molly the cockerpoo.

Mark Wildyr on his historical novel Cut Hand (Cut Hand #1) (author guest blog and special excerpt)

Cut Hand (Cut Hand #1) by Mark Wildyr

DSP Publications
Cover art by Maria Fanning
Release Date: October 31, 2017

Available for Purchase at DSP Publications | Amazon

iBooks and Kobo

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to host Mark Wildyr here today on his tour for Cut Hand. Welcome, Mark.

✒︎

May I take a moment to thank Stella and Melanie at Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words for agreeing to host this guest post for my upcoming novel CUT HAND. The book blurb captures the theme and intent of my historical novel as well as anything else:

Far from the world he knows, he’ll find a home.

Among strangers, he’ll find acceptance.

And in the arms of an unexpected man, he’ll find love.

Young Billy Strobaw comes West to escape the stigma of his Tory family. In the Dakota Territories, he encounters the Yanube warrior Cut Hand. Billy’s attraction to the other man is as surprising as the Yanube perspective on same-sex love. Unlike Europeans, the Siouan tribe celebrates such unions. Billy and Cut Hand can live as partners and build a life together, which Billy agrees to do.

As Billy struggles to acclimate to a very different culture, quickly discovering the Yanube have as much to teach him as he has to impart to them, a larger struggle is brewing. The white man is barreling through the Great Plains, trampling underfoot anyone who stands in his way. As a leader of his people, Cut Hand must decide whether it will be peace or war.

In a historical romance taking place against the epic backdrop of the early American West, where a single spark can ignite a powder keg of greed, lust for power, and misunderstanding, one man must find his place in history and his role in the preservation of all he has come to value.

I have chosen a passage from well into the story (Chapter 22, in fact) to illustrate the lengths my protagonist, William Joseph Strobaw, a very honest man, feels he has to go in order to protect his adopted people from the ravages of the white man.

*****

YAWKTOWN HAD grown to the point where the city fathers saw fit to change the name to Yanube City. My friends from the old days were now men of substance, and I was about to use their influence to the full extent of my ability. Since it was late when I arrived, I took a room at the Rainbow Hotel, as the establishment was now called, and bathed in one of their new baths. Each floor had a fully equipped bath with a zinc-lined tub.

Early the next morning, I called on the land office and made certain the title to Teacher’s Mead and the one hundred sixty acres around it was correctly entered. The government surveyed some years back, permitting me to exercise my right of purchase under the 1841 Pre-Assumption Act. Now I made a bid for contiguous land. If no one contested my offer, I would own four thousand acres of land lying astride the Yanube River. I bid the minimum provided for by the compromise, virtually destroying my account at the bank. It seemed politic to pacify Banker Crozier, whose influence I would need, by agreeing he could draft most of the cost from my account with the bank at Fort Ramson. Beyond this, I had to surrender a portion of my gold and silver coins to satisfy the bid.

The most crucial part of my scheme rested with the next call. Abraham Kranzmeier, the Jewish tailor, now had four young seamstresses and two sons working for him. Despite his age, he arrived at the shop each day to inspect every stitch that went into garments made in his name. I had given him custom over the years, and we held one another in esteem. He flicked a bushy gray eyebrow when I asked to speak in private but wordlessly led me back to a room furnished like a comfortable parlor in a home. He offered a cup of expensive imperial tea with lemon and settled back to stroke his long beard and listen.

“Abraham, I come to you because if anyone in this town understands the yoke of oppression, it is you. I intend to do something not exactly proper, not for my own personal gain, but for the protection of people who will need it in the years to come.”

I paused for him to volunteer some comment. “I heard what happened to your Indian family. You come on behalf of the survivors.”

“I have a beautiful piece of ground at Teacher’s Mead. When my time comes, I want to make certain it goes to my intended heirs.”

The old man took out a crooked, elaborately carved pipe, and for one minute I thought he was going to offer it in ceremonial observation. “So you see the same future I do,” he said, settling the pipe comfortably in the corner of his mouth.

“Indians are going to become the Jews of America,” I answered. “They will be denied ownership of their own land, citizenship in their own country, and forfeit their very lives if no protection is offered. I seek to provide this protection to a few of them.”

“You want to leave them your property.”

“And my testament will not be honored unless I fix things a little. So I come to a respected member of a community with a long history of surviving hostile systems.”

“In other words, you come to an old Jew. An old Jew whose nephew, although he bears a gentile name, is the clerk for this territory. Tell me what you need.”

I wanted a record of a marriage between me and Butterfly, a woman of the Yanube band, in the spring of 1834, some two years before the actual event, and a marriage license to go with it. I wanted a record of birth and a birth certificate for William Cuthan Strobaw as issue from this marriage for any day in December 1835, plus a baptismal certificate in the Methodist Church, one of the more active in the area. The old man listened and then named a sum, explaining it was not payment to him but the cost of having the items created. I handed over some of my hoarded gold coins and asked him to expedite the process. I wanted as much time between this and my own demise as possible. Time often perfected titles.

*****

“The Indian will become the Jews of America.” Prophetic words from a wise, farseeing man. His story and that of his love, Cut Hand, make up this novel.

Since I am uncomfortable talking about me, I’ll let the Bio at the end of the novel provide the obligatory words about the author:

Mark Wildyr is an Okie by birth and New Mexican by choice who turned a childhood interest in Native American cultures into a career. His seven published novels and approximately sixty short stories detail how attitudes toward homosexuals—who once held places of honor among some of the tribes—began to change upon the coming of the white man, with his suspicion and fear of those who are “different,” ultimately becoming pariahs even among their own people as the Europeans became dominant.

Wildyr continues to be fascinated by how different people interact together to discover who they are when measured against others. He gives back to his community by teaching a free writing class at an Albuquerque community center.

The following are my contact links:

Website and blog: markwildyr.com
Email: markwildyr@aol.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/mark.wildyr
Twitter: @markwildyr

Once again, thanks Melanie and Stella. I really appreciate this opportunity. And thanks to you readers for being… readers.

Dirk Greyson on Turning Personal Experience into Characters and his latest novel ‘Hell and Back’

Hell and Back by Dirk Greyson
Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: L.C. Chase

Book Links

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Dreamspinner Press

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to host Dirk Greyson here on his Hell and Back tour. Welcome, Dirk.

I often get asked how much of myself I put into my stories and sometimes I’m not really sure. I’m not a lawyer and I’m not ex-military turned detective, but I do like to think that I have a big heart and I think that’s where I insert myself most often into the stories I write. Okay, I’m going to tell you something that I rarely go into online. My school years weren’t happy ones. I was alone much of the time. The kids at school picked on me and that made those years really tough. As a reaction, I turned quiet in introspective. I stayed away from others and didn’t open play with them because I never knew when the next trick or insult was coming. It was a pretty miserable existence. But I think that period of my life also helped me develop a real heart felt understanding for the underdog and those that are having a difficult time with life because I’d been through it. I really feel for my characters and throw my heart into them, quite literally. I really hope that comes through to you as well.

Blurb/Synopsis

Excerpt

After all these years, to run into Forge again, and under these circumstances….

He turned toward the stairs and got up to make a round through the house, then checked outside just to ensure everything was quiet.

Almost instantly he was lying in a hospital bed.

“Would you like me to read them to you?” The man’s voice had been mellow and gentle, at odds with most things in the Army.

“Please,” he’d said softly. At least he’d been able to talk.

About the Author

Author Links

Other Works by Dirk Greyson

Yellowstone Wolves Series

Challenge the Darkness

Darkness Threatening

Darkness Rising

Day and Knight Series

Day and Knight

Sun and Shadow

Dawn and Dusk

Standalone Titles

An Assassin’s Holiday

Heart Unheard (Heart Unseen #2) by Andrew Grey Publisher: Dreamspinner Press Release Date: Nov 17 2017 Cover Artist: L.C. Chase

Blurb/Synopsis:

Excerpt

About the Author

For Other Works by Andrew Grey

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Blood Drop (The Warlock Brothers of Havenbridge #5) by Jacob Z. Flores Dreamspinner Press Cover art by Paul Richmond

Release date: November 6, 2017

Buy Link: Dreamspinner Press e-book/Dreamspinner Press Paperback

Blurb:

About the Author

Giveaway

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At Sixes and Sevens (Fur, Fangs, and Felines #4) by M.A. Church Dreamspinner Press Cover art by Paul Richmond

Cat Facts by M.A. Church

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Excerpt

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Hell and Back by Dirk Greyson Publisher: Dreamspinner Press Cover Art: L.C. Chase

About the Author

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Fortune’s Slings and Cupid’s Arrows (Lawyers in Love #2) by Ari McKay Dreamspinner Press Cover art by Bree Archer

Exclusive Excerpt

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One Word (Hidden Places #3) by Anne Barwell Dreamspinner Press Cover art by

Available for Purchase at Dreamspinner Press

One Word Blurb

Excerpt

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Camp H.O.W.L. by Bru Baker

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press Cover Artist: Aaron Anderson Release date: Nov. 1, 2017

Blurb

Excerpt

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The Jackal’s House ( Lancaster’s Luck#2) by Anna Butler Dreamspinner Press

Publication Date: 30 October 2017 Cover Artist: Reese Dante,Illustrator (Map): Margaret Warner

The Tickle Of Scarabs’ Feet by Anna Butler

About The Book

Giveaway

About Anna

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Cut Hand (Cut Hand #1) by Mark Wildyr

DSP Publications Cover art by Maria Fanning Release Date: October 31, 2017

Available for Purchase at DSP Publications | Amazon

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Hell and Back by Dirk Greyson Dreamspinner Press Cover Artist: L.C. Chase

Blurb/Synopsis

Excerpt

About the Author

Other Works by Dirk Greyson

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Heart Unheard (Heart Unseen #2) by Andrew Grey
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Release Date: Nov 17 2017
Cover Artist: L.C. Chase

Blood Drop (The Warlock Brothers of Havenbridge #5) by Jacob Z. Flores
Dreamspinner Press
Cover art by Paul Richmond

At Sixes and Sevens (Fur, Fangs, and Felines #4) by M.A. Church
Dreamspinner Press
Cover art by Paul Richmond

Hell and Back by Dirk Greyson
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Cover Art: L.C. Chase

Fortune’s Slings and Cupid’s Arrows (Lawyers in Love #2) by Ari McKay
Dreamspinner Press
Cover art by Bree Archer

One Word (Hidden Places #3) by Anne Barwell
Dreamspinner Press
Cover art by

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: Aaron Anderson
Release date: Nov. 1, 2017

The Jackal’s House ( Lancaster’s Luck#2) by Anna Butler
Dreamspinner Press

Publication Date: 30 October 2017
Cover Artist: Reese Dante,Illustrator (Map): Margaret Warner

DSP Publications
Cover art by Maria Fanning
Release Date: October 31, 2017

Hell and Back by Dirk Greyson
Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: L.C. Chase