In the Series Spotlight:Mockingbird Place Series Tour by Kris Cook (excerpt)



Series: A Mockingbird Place
Novels Included:  The Marine in Unit A, The Cowboy in Unit E, The Fireman in Unit C, The Doctor in Unit H, The Fighter in Unit J
Author: Kris Cook
Genre: M/M Contemporary Romance
Release Date: Available Now

The Marine in Unit A: “A very nice read that I totally enjoyed. I will read more by this author especially this series.” – Inked Rainbow Reads

The Cowboy in Unit E: “Yes, I recommend the series. Smokin’ hot and smart men who are not afraid to expose their feelings or get in touch with their emotional side. Well done, again, Mr. Cook! I look forward to the next book – impatiently!“  – Happily Ever Chapter

The Fireman in Unit C: “Kris Cook gives us another issues driven story that his Mockingbird Place Guys must deal with to get their lives settled.” – Amazon Review

The Doctor in Unit H: “This story is riveting and I read it from start to finish without putting it down!
Kris takes you on a journey with his words – enjoy!!!!!!!” – Amazon Review

The Fighter in Unit J: “A story of love triumphing over the sorrows of the past!! From the beginning to the end there are surprises that you don’t see coming. Mockingbird Place is my dream home!” – Amazon Review

The man who has been more of a dad to me than my biological father is dead.
He rescued me from the streets six years ago—a runaway teenage boy, escaping a family who thought I was an abomination.
Now what do I do? I have no one.
My life might look great from the outside. I’m in college. I have my own apartment. I have lots of friends.


But I’m dying on the inside.


I feel so alone. Lost. Hopeless.



I’m not the kind of person to wallow in self-pity. I need a distraction.



The guy moving into Unit A may be just what I need to take my mind off of losing my dad.






21-year old Oliver Lancaster is attracted to 22-year old Adam Stockton, the former-Marine moving into Unit A. But attraction for the closeted man morphs quickly into something deeper, something meaningful, something that terrifies Oliver. What will happen if Adam learns about the secret from his past?


Warning: contains skinny dipping, two hot men kissing, and sexual situations taking place in a 10-unit Mediterranean complex filled with college-aged hotties.

The good news is the most gorgeous cowboy I’ve ever seen is moving in next door to me. The bad news? He’s not alone. Hanging on his arm is a very pregnant woman. Are they a couple? It sure looks like they are. So not only is he not gay, but he also has a girlfriend, or a wife, or whatever. Just my luck.

21-year old Trace Cotton is an artist who never shows his paintings to anyone. When cowboy Luke Wagner moves into Mockingbird Place with a very pregnant Ava, Trace believes he must fight his attraction to Luke since he’s taken.
When Ava collapses outside Trace’s apartment, he comes to her rescue. Things aren’t what they seem on the surface, but when Trace finds out the truth will it be too late for a chance at something real with Luke? 


Warning: contains hot showers with singing, two sexy men kissing, and sexual situations taking place in a 10-unit Mediterranean complex filled with college-aged hotties.


A serial arsonist sets fire to the unit next to Jackson’s apartment—the unit the sexy fireman Eli lives in. 

Things really heat up when Jackson offers Eli a place to stay until Unit C is livable again. Jackson, being OCD, requires everything in his life to be neat and orderly, but Eli’s life is chaotic and messy, especially because of the man’s ex, who keeps pushing his way back into the fireman’s life. Living with Eli turns out to be much more than he bargained for. As much as he would love to just throw caution to the wind, Jackson believes it is best to keep things between him an Eli on the friend level. Nothing more. But an unexpected kiss rocks his world and he must figure out the real reason he’s terrified of the feelings Eli is bringing out in him. 

Will Jackson see that a future with Eli can help him let go of the guilt from his troubled past?

Jackson McAllen – Unit D

After spending several hours at the university’s library studying for my forensic psychology test next week, I drive away from the campus, anxious to get into my apartment and warm bed. Though I love the class, the amount of required reading has kept me very busy.
Thankfully, I don’t have any classes on Fridays this semester, so I can sleep in tomorrow. I’ll need the rest for Saturday’s tennis match. The new coach doesn’t believe in canceling no matter the weather. I really hope the forecast for the weekend is correct. We’re supposed to have clear skies and temperatures in the sixties. That will be a relief since this entire week has been so cold, especially today, which is the coldest.
The car is registering the outside temperature at ten degrees below freezing. It gives me a chill just looking at it.
I pull into my parking space at Mockingbird Place, my home sweet home. Bracing myself to face the cold, I open my car door and immediately smell smoke.
I look around and see where it’s coming from. Shit. It’s Eli’s apartment.
God, I hope he’s at the fire station working and not inside.
I call 9-1-1.
The dispatcher answers, “9-1-1. What’s your emergency?”
“I’m reporting a fire at Mockingbird Place.” I give her the address. “Unit C. I’m going to run to the door and make sure no one is inside.”
“Sir, for your safety you need to wait until the fire department gets there,” she says in a stern voice.
As I’m running, I tell her, “No way am I waiting.” At Eli’s door, I try to turn the knob. It’s locked. I pound as hard as I can. “Eli! Eli! Are you in there?”
My neighbors come out of their apartments. More smoke billows out the front window. I see that it’s broken. This could be arson. That realization multiplies my worry. Where the hell are you, Eli?
“I know I’m not supposed to hang up on you, ma’am, but I have to call my friend to make sure he’s okay.” Not waiting for her to respond, I click off of 9-1-1 and call Eli’s phone.
Sirens begin to wail in the distance.
Fuck. No answer.
Out of the corner of my eye I see something move. Hoping that it’s Eli, I turn and see the white stray cat that we’ve all adopted running down the sidewalk.
I knock even louder. “Eli!”
Suddenly, the door opens, releasing a massive amount of smoke. Eli rushes out with a towel around his waist and another covering his mouth. 
“Eli, are you okay?”
Coughing, he puts his arms around me. “Yes, I am.”
I’m overwhelmed with relief that he is safe, but I’m feeling so much more that I can’t explain. There’s no time to sort out these thoughts right now.
Eli coughs a few more times and then his demeanor goes into fireman mode. “Jackson, we need to step away from the building. It’s too dangerous. Please help me get everyone back.” He doesn’t wait for me but begins lifting his hands and motioning everyone to the other side of the pool. Following his lead, I do the same, directing our neighbors away from the fire.
Once he’s satisfied that everyone is safely away from the blaze, I take off my coat and give it to him. Then he and I run around to the back of Mockingbird Place and meet a fire truck, an ambulance, and a police car, which are pulling into the parking lot next to our units.
The firemen jump out and get to work like a well-oiled machine, pulling out the hoses and other equipment.
Still coughing, Eli steps over to the man in charge, who is broad shouldered with salt and pepper hair.
“Grayson? What the hell are you doing here wrapped in a towel?” the man asks.
“It’s my place, Captain,” Eli chokes out. “I was in the shower when I heard glass breaking and smelled gasoline. I ran downstairs and saw my sofa and curtains go up in flames. I grabbed my fire extinguisher from under the kitchen sink and tried to put out the blaze but it was already out of control.”
“Damn arsonists. This is the fifth fire we’ve had to deal with in the past two weeks.”
I curl my hands into fists, angry about the attacks on gays that have occurred in the area. First it started out as bashing. Eleven LGBT people ended up in the hospital. After the police increased their presence down on Cedar Springs, that’s when small apartment complexes around the area, like ours, were set on fire. Although there has been no evidence connecting the bashings to the arsons, the entire community is on edge.
The captain motions to the EMTs to come over. “He’s one of ours. Inhaled some smoke. Take good care of him.” He turns to Eli. “We are getting this under control. You know the drill. Stay put.”
“Yes, sir.”
As the EMTs give Eli oxygen and provide him blankets, the captain and his team put out the blaze.
“I’m fine, fellas.” Eli seems far from fine to me, at least not emotionally, which is no surprise considering all he’s gone through.
Even so, he’s still the perfect example of male beauty. He’s six-foot-one, just like me. Muscles for days. Piercing blue eyes. Thick, dark hair. Just like the old cliché says—tall, dark, and handsome. He looks like a very strong, tough guy, but still, who would be fine after their home caught on fire? I hate that this has happened to him.
A little while later, the captain walks over to us. “Eli, the good news is we were able to keep the fire from spreading to your second floor. The bad news is everything in your living room is toast. And you know the kind of water damage you’re going to have to deal with.”
“Yes, sir.” He sighs. “And the smoke damage too. The adjoining unit has a couple who are expecting a baby. I’m going to need help finding them a place to stay. Lashaya can’t take a chance breathing in the residual smoke.”
“You may be jumping the gun,” I tell him. I know how terrific a guy Eli is—always concerned about everyone else more than himself. “There might not be any smoke in their place. If there is, we’ll all work on getting them settled until it’s safe for her to return to their apartment.”
He nods. “I’m just glad no one got hurt.”
“We did find the remains of what looks to be a Molotov cocktail in the middle of your apartment,” the captain says. “Before you can get inside the investigators will have to go over your place first.”
Eli closes his eyes. “Maybe they’ll find a clue to who did this.”
Of course he’s still struggling with what has happened. Who wouldn’t be?
“I’m sorry but you’re not going to be able to stay here.” The captain puts his arm around him. “You can stay at the station until this gets all sorted out. I know it might be hard to get much rest but at least you’ll have a clean bed and a shower.”
Everything inside me wants to help Eli. “Why don’t you stay with me? I have the extra bedroom now that Trace is living with Luke, Ava, and the baby. And you and I are about the same size. I have plenty of clothes you can wear.” I don’t want him to think I’m only offering as a gesture of charity, so I add, “And quite frankly, I could use the company. I’ve been a little lonely since Trace moved out.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I am. The first thing we need to do is get you out of the cold.”
He shakes his head. “I’d rather stay here until the fire is completely out.”
Knowing I would feel the same way if it were my place on fire, I nod. “Okay. But I’m going to get something for your bare feet. I’ll be right back.”
I run into my place and up the stairs. I pull out a pair of slippers from my closet. 
As I rush back to Eli, I see the fire is already under control. The captain is talking with two police officers, a male and female. I also spot Sarah and Martha, who we lovingly call S & M, giving the firemen coffee and hot chocolate.
I hand the slippers to Eli. “I hope these fit you.”
“My feet feel like icicles. Thanks, Jackson.” Putting them on, he smiles. “Perfect, buddy. Already feel better. But let me give your coat back. You must be freezing too.”
I was so concerned with getting him the slippers I didn’t think about grabbing a coat for myself. “I’m fine. Keep it, Eli.”
The captain leads the police officers to us. “This is Eli Grayson. Eli, they have a few questions they need to ask you.”
“I’m Detective Soliz,” the female officer says, and then motions to her partner. “And this is Detective Morrison.”
I recall what the outside temperature registered on my car earlier. Ten degrees below freezing. “Officers, I know you have to ask him questions but could we please go inside my place so he can warm up?” I point to my back door. “I live next door to him.”
Soliz nods. “Of course. Lead the way.”
Once we’re all settled into my apartment, I turn up the heat and put on a pot of coffee. I wish my friend Detective Derek Stone could take Eli’s statement. But Derek only works homicides.
“Mr. Grayson, I understand Captain Murphy told you about his suspicions that this could be arson,” Soliz says.
“Yes he did.”
“Do you have any idea who might have done this?”
“No. I don’t have any enemies that I know of.”
Morrison asks, “Have you had an argument with anyone recently?”
Eli shrugs. “I did have an argument with my friend Scott a couple of days ago, but that’s not unusual. We’ve been arguing with each other since I kicked him out, but I’m certain Scott’s not capable of this.”
Of course the bastard is capable of this and so much more. Why can’t Eli see the guy for who he truly is?
Soliz looks directly at Eli. “What were you arguing about, Mr. Grayson?”
“Same old thing. He wants me to forgive him and take him back.”
We all know the asshole cheated on him, even if Eli has never said so. I saw Scott making out with a guy at a club when he was still living with Eli. And despite Eli breaking it off with the bastard and kicking him out, the creep somehow is able to make Eli feel sorry for him.
I bring out a tray with coffee, cups,  cream, and sugar. “Officers, would you like some coffee? It’s freezing out there.”
“I sure would,” Morrison says.
Soliz smiles. “Me, too. Thank you.”
“What about you, Eli?” I ask him.
“Please. I’m still cold.”
After taking a sip of coffee, Soliz turns back to Eli. “What’s your friend’s full name, Mr. Grayson?”
“Scott Foster.”
“Do you have his address and phone number?” she asks.
“I do. In my cell.” Eli frowns. “Oh shit. It was on the table next to my sofa. Um…Scott lives in a condo on Cedar Springs not far from Oak Lawn. I think they’re called Whispering Pines.”
“Whispering Pines?” I’m stunned. “Those are really nice.”
“Where does Mr. Foster work?” Soliz asks Eli.
“He just started working part time at the 7-Eleven on Lemmon a couple of weeks ago.”
I wonder how in the hell his ex can afford to live in an upscale condo. Is Eli subsidizing him?
Eli takes a sip of his coffee. “But like I said before, Scott isn’t capable of such a crime.”
“But he certainly is a big jerk,” I blurt out and immediately wish I could take it back. “Sorry, Eli. You know none of us here like Scott after all he did to you.”
“What is your name?” Soliz asks me.
Damn it. I should have kept my mouth shut. “Jackson McAllen.
“What can you tell us about Mr. Foster?”
“I don’t really know him. I only saw him a few times when he and Eli were still together.”
She leans forward. “And?”
“And I don’t care for him.”
“Can you elaborate?” Morrison asks in a I-mean-business-so-don’t-try-to-bullshit-me tone.
“I’ve seen him throw a drink in Eli’s face, scream at Eli at a club, and throw Eli’s clothes in the pool.” Rage rolls up inside me. Why can’t Eli see his ex is a useless piece of shit? “Scott Foster is a total asshole.”
Soliz glances at her partner and then turns back to me. “Are you and Mr. Grayson dating now?”
“No, we are not,” Eli jumps in. “Jackson and I are only friends.”
His words sting me. “Right. Just friends.”
“I don’t understand why you’re wasting time, officers,” Eli says. “Stop trying to pin this on Scott. I told you, he’s not capable of this.”
The male officer’s eyebrows rise. “Have you heard the saying from Hamlet ‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks’?”
Is Morrison referring to Eli’s ex being the arsonist or that Eli and I should be together? God, I wish Eli and I could be more than friends. I like him. I like him a lot. But he and I wouldn’t work. His life is too complicated and messy for me. Blame it on my OCD. I must have things simple and orderly.

Maddox Butler
Some people say you can’t fall in love at 18. But I did. And the man of my dreams? Jaris Black. He was also 18.
Our first year at medical school we moved in together. It was…perfect.
I haven’t seen or talked to him in six years. But I’ve never stopped thinking about him. Jaris is a very successful doctor, which is no surprise to me. Still living in Unit H at Mockingbird Place.


God, how I’ve missed him.
I won’t drag Jaris into the chaos that is my life. No. I won’t. But my mother who is dying has requested to see him. They were so close. Still are.


I had to honor Mom’s wish. I called him and he’s arriving in an hour. Can I keep my feelings hidden from him? I need to, for his sake.

Will it take a miracle for this Episcopal priest and MMA fighter to fall in love? 
I call him Anthony, though everyone else calls him Tony. Why? Because I know there’s more to this rude, obnoxious, sullen, sexy man. Anthony totally mesmerizes me. He’s like a drug habit I can’t quit. I’m a priest. I should know better. 
We are friends. Or were. I guess he felt safe with me since I’m a priest. But when he learned that my church is welcoming to gays and that it even has gay priests, he backed off. I haven’t been totally honest with him about my feelings, but I’m sure he senses them. 


He’s incredible in the fighting cage and wins all his fights. Before Anthony, I never cared for boxing, let alone mixed-martial arts fights. But now? I’m enthralled every time I see him battle it out with an opponent. What does he whisper to them before he pummels them to the mat? I wonder. 


Why does he keep his guard up with everyone, especially me? He’s pushed me away at every turn. He’s made it crystal clear that he doesn’t believe in anything. Not God. Not anyone. Not even me.



I should just walk away. But I just can’t. Every time I look into his eyes something overwhelming and undeniable pushes me to keep holding on to hope. Is there a chance for us or is it just a fool’s fantasy?









I like sex, but making love? That’s not in the cards for me. If a guy wants more from me than wild, sweaty sex… I move on. There’s plenty of others to choose from.



I don’t let people in. It never works out. Never.



I made a mistake opening up to Stephen when he moved into Mockingbird Place. Why do I like him so much? He’s a priest. Father Stephen. And he believes in things I see as fairy tales. I have my reasons. I’ve seen the darkest parts of humanity, and I didn’t see any divine light breaking through.



I’ve iced him out. I know what he wants, and I can’t give it to him. I’m not white-picket anything. Never will be. But I can’t get him out of my mind. It’s driving me crazy. The only thing I know to do is to shut out everything and jump back into the cage. That’s the only place it gets really quiet for me and I can forget for a few precious moments.

Though starting in straight erotic romance, Kris’s total focus now is on gay romance. When asked why recently, his answer was “My muse finally came out of the closet. Isn’t it about time? I’ve been out since I was twenty-five.” A voracious reader, Kris loves many genres of fiction, but this writer’s favorite books are romances that are edgy, sexy, with rich characters and unique challenges. Kris’ influences include Anne Rice, JR Ward, Lexi Blake and Shayla Black. Last year, Kris married the love of his life Stephen.


Release Tour: Tempting Tristan(Harborside Nights #3) by Melissa Foster (excerpt and giveaway)

Tempting Tristan (A Sexy Standalone M/M Romance)
Series: Harborside Nights
Author: Melissa Foster
Release Date: October 19, 2016
Tempting Tristan is a stand-alone M/M romance featuring two sexy, hot alphas.
Fresh off the heels of yet another bad relationship, Tristan Brewer is taking a break from men to try and figure out where he keeps going wrong. He knows his biggest fault–he leads with his heart, not his head–and that’s never going to change. But after several introspective weeks, he’s beginning to get a handle on things. That is, until badass heartthrob Alex Wells walks into his bar…
Alex has spent eight years in the Army, months in a hospital bed, and far too long hiding his sexual identity. He’s guilt-ridden, damaged, pissed off, and up for a Silver Star–for the incident that nearly cost him his life, and kept him from his grandmother’s funeral. But all he wants to do is forget his stint with the institution that allows but doesn’t necessarily accept, and live the life he’s always dreamed of.

The chemistry between Tristan and Alex ignites from the moment they meet, and the more time they spend together the hotter the flames become. But the closer Tristan gets, the more Alex’s walls go up, and when the two walk onto a military base, Tristan finds out Alex’s physical scars aren’t the ones that run the deepest.
HARBORSIDE NIGHTS is a sexy, hot, and evocatively real series of stand-alone romances that follows a group of friends who have known one another for years as “summer” friends, and now come together after college to build their lives. They’re tough, edgy, and accepting–most of the time. This series is written in the same loving, raw, and emotional voice readers have come to love by New York Times & USA Today bestselling, award-winning author Melissa Foster with LGBT themes.


“Melissa Foster is synonymous with sexy, swoony, heartfelt romance!” New York Times Bestseller Lauren Blakely

“With her wonderful characters and resonating emotions, Melissa Foster is a must-read author!” New York Times Bestseller J. Kenner

We step forward at the same time, and he presses his rough hand to my cheek. “I don’t know what kind of pussies you went out with before, but I wanted to fucking claim you in there.”

He slides a hand around my waist, tugging our bodies together. I feel every hard inch of him, and he’s got me so hot I’m sure we’re going to combust.
“I’ve spent almost nine years hiding who I am, and I’m not willing to do it anymore,” he says through clenched teeth. “Not here, where I came to start over. Where I came to live on my terms without the goddamn military hanging over my head.”
“I have no interest in hiding,” I assure him.
“You’re sure? Because I really want to kiss you right now, and I don’t care who sees us.”
I respond by pulling his mouth to mine, my break from men long forgotten. We stumble backward, crashing into the railing, fighting for dominance as we did yesterday morning. The passion between us has a life of its own. My hands claw over his ass, up his back. I want to strip him down and take all of him. I want to discover why he’s so rough and learn what about those shadows that are lurking behind his gorgeous eyes. Instead I take, and give, and take more of the angry kisses. When we finally tear our mouths apart, my body’s still reeling, and we both curse under our breaths.
“Okay?” he pants out.
I nod, knowing if I open my mouth, I want to fuck you, is going to come out.

“Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer.”

Tristan shrugs. “Have at it.”

“Why were you taking a break? I get that your ex was a prick, but is there more to it?”
He looks down the street, across the street, and then his hand cruises through his hair as it has so often that I’ve already come to expect it when he’s nervous.

“Ian was a prick, but the rest is going to make me sound like a pussy,” he admits.

“I’ve only known you a day, and I already know nothing can make you sound like a pussy.”

He meets my gaze, and his jaw tightens. He lifts his chin and I recognize the struggle between feeling proud and worrying about looking weak. I fight that battle on a daily basis.
“I give away my heart too easily, and I end up getting hurt.”
His eyes never leave mine, and that trust, that confidence, is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
“I was right. Nothing can make you sound like a pussy.” I slide my hand to the hard ridge of his jaw and lean in closer. “I’ve never given my heart away. That makes you braver than me.”
Melissa Foster is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling and award-winning author. She writes sexy and heartwarming contemporary romance, new adult romance (M/F, M/M, F/F), romantic suspense, thrillers, and historical fiction with emotionally compelling characters that stay with you long after you turn the last page. Melissa’s emotional journeys are lovingly erotic and always family oriented. Her books have been recommended by USA Today’s book blog, Hagerstown Magazine, The Patriot, and several other print venues. She is the founder of the World Literary Café. When she’s not writing, Melissa helps authors navigate the publishing industry through her author training programs on Fostering Success.
Melissa has painted and donated several murals to The Hospital for Sick Children in Washington, DC. Her interests include her family, reading, writing, painting, friends, helping others see the positive side of life, and visiting Cape Cod.
Melissa is available to chat with book clubs and welcomes comments and emails from her readers. Visit Melissa on Facebook or her personal website.

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Love Wins in ‘Touchdown (Game Day Book 1)‘ by T.S. McKinney Tour (excerpt and giveaway)

Title: Touchdown
Series: Game Day Series Book 1
Author: TS McKinney
Publisher – Dark Hollows Press
Genre: M/M Romance
Published: September 7, 2016
Alexander Bryant has lived his entire life making everyone else happy. After meeting Lincoln, will he have the courage to finally do what makes him happy?
Alexander – I like to consider myself a rebel – an ass-kicker that takes what he wants regardless of what others think. I make my own path and flip off the people who don’t agree. I laugh in the face of conflict. Nobody tells me what to do.
In reality, everything about me is a lie – past, present, and future. The Bryant family name requires certain things and all my decisions are based on those requirements. I like football, but the family name demands I love it. I want to be an artist, but the family name demands I be a lawyer. The family demands I fall in love with a nice girl, but I’m falling for, well, the opposite of nice AND girl. I’m a coward and a liar.
Lincoln – I like to imagine myself a loner – a cold heartless bastard that takes what he wants. I lived the biggest part of my life with parents that were ashamed of me for more reasons that one could begin to count, so I trust no one. I have a low tolerance for bullshit and hate liars. So why did I go and fall in love with the biggest liar of them all?

“Sexy, charming, hot and delightful book!” – Amazon Review 
“Touchdown is funny, naughty and delightful” – Amazon Review 
“Super sexy and sassy!!” – MM Book Escape




I lay there, or at least I think I’m lying down on some sort of soft surface. Soft and cozy. Smells nice. Yeah, it feels like a mattress, but it also feels like I’m floating on a fluffy cloud. I can hear things, some soft music playing, but it sounds like everything is so far away. I’m toasty warm. Even in my sluggish mind I know I’ve never felt this relaxed in my entire life. I can’t explain it – other than I never want the feeling to go away.

I should probably open my eyes and try to at least wake up, but it feels so damned good that I keep them clenched tightly together. There’s a nagging twitch in the back of my mind, telling me something isn’t quite right and I should be concerned, very concerned, but I don’t want to listen. I try to shut out my mind and focus only on what my body is saying.

I want to relax and enjoy whatever the hell this is. I don’t use drugs, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to start if this is the result of pill popping. Did I drink too much? Nope; if I had, I’d be feeling more like a rattlesnake being poked instead of a cuddly slug cocooned someplace…that smelled so damned nice. What the hell was that scent? I liked it. I’m pretty sure if I was able, it would turn me on. For the first time in my life, I feel like I might not have the energy to even get it up…and it feels so good that I don’t even care.

What had I been doing? Where was I? What had happened and how could I make it happen again?

“Alexander.” A husky voice invaded my state of peace and relaxation.

I peeked an eye open and immediately wished I hadn’t. Fuck. Fuck. Double fuck. What the double fuck? I tried to scramble away from the man looming over me but my limbs felt like fucking jelly that had been left out in the sun. My arms wouldn’t work. My fucking legs wouldn’t work. The only thing that was fucking working was the voice inside my head screaming for me to run for my fucking life. Well, shit. I’m naked. Yep, naked and apparently I’m in another man’s bed. I don’t belong in the beds of other men. Nope, not me. Especially not the bed of Lincoln Montgomery, spanker of bare asses.

“Calm down, Alexander,” Lincoln said in that deep, sexier than sexy voice. “You’re going to feel weak after our scene. It’s natural so don’t be alarmed. Don’t move,” he ordered as he turned away to reach for something. Before I could even consider trying to at least slide across the bed and belly crawl for the window so I could jump to my death, he was back around and offering me a bottle of water. No way was I drinking that shit. I’m sure it’s drugged; just like whatever I drank last night had to have been drugged. That’s why I was feeling so weak. And fucking wonderful.

Oh, shit. The scene! I had actually let another man spank me with a crop. In front of a crowd. Practically naked. I’m pretty sure I begged for it. I eyed the window again, calculating if I could make it before Lincoln grabbed me and hauled me back to his bed. Sure, I’d die naked and humiliate my parents and grandparents, but that would have to be their fucking problem. For the first time in my life, they would just have to deal with me breaking the rules. Technically, I suppose, I wasn’t breaking them. Mother just always said to have clean underwear on in case you are in an accident. I suppose in her mind no underwear would surely beat dirty underwear.

“Stop acting like a child, Alexander. We’re on the tenth floor. You would splatter,” Lincoln scolded. “Now drink your water. After an especially intense scene, you need plenty of rest and fluids. You’ve gotten the rest, so let’s drink our water, shall we?”

Apparently he could read my mind. Perfect.

“I don’t want your water, Lincoln. You’re probably just trying to drug me again,” I spat. Hell, I knew he hadn’t drugged me, but it sounded a hell of a lot better than I was stone-cold sober when I stripped in front of strangers and let a grown-ass man spank me. Oh wait, I’m also naked in his comfy bed. We probably fucked, too.

It gets better and better.

I wiggle a bit to see if I’m sore in places I shouldn’t be sore. Yep, I sure the fuck am. Of course that could very well be from the spanking I received, but, then again, it could be from something much worse. Shit, did I let this man fuck me? Double shit, why does the thought of that not piss me off like it should?

“Are you implying I’ve drugged you, Alexander?” Lincoln asked as he opened the bottle of water. I opened my mouth to tell him I damned straight thought he drugged me, but before I could get it out, he had scooped up my head and forced the bottle against my lips. “Drink,” he ordered.

So I drank it.

“Very good,” he praised and I glowed like a fucking moron. Why the hell would I care if he was happy or not? I should be feeling the opposite. Actually, I should probably punch him the face – if only my damned arms didn’t feel like a ton of lead. Since an angry glare was the only weapon I possessed at the moment, I glared. And glared. And glared.

He laughed – the motherfucker.

“You’ve got a pretty pout, Alexander. I’m sure you use it to get your way on most occasions, but it won’t work with me so put it away. Don’t waste your time and mine.”

His voice sounded like a growl. A very sexy, very arousing growl. Something inside of me wanted to purr. I settled for, “Fuck off, Lincoln.”

“Do you remember what happened earlier?” He pulled a chair right up against the bed and leaned closer to me than I felt comfortable with. No, scratch that. He leaned closer than I wanted to feel comfortable with. As it turns out, what I think I want and what my body wants might be two different things, as in on opposite ends of the chart. My head is screaming “no” but my body is dying to get closer to him. As my nostrils flare, I realize the scent that has been driving me crazy with lust is none other than Lincoln Montgomery. Could it get any worse?
“I’m straight,” I blurted out, trying to convince myself more than Lincoln. “Not gay.” Yeah, clarify it like he didn’t have a clue what straight meant. I’m a fucking idiot.

He smiled. It was one of those indulgent smiles that parents give children when they say or do something ridiculous. “Yes, thank you for telling me, Alexander. Again.”

Oh yeah, I had already told him that. Shit.

“Don’t worry. Straight men end up on the other end of my crop and then naked in my bed all the time.” Another indulgent smile. “It happens alllll the time.” He mocked.

“Did we?” I asked. I had to know. Shit, I didn’t want to know.

“Did we what?” Lincoln asked with a smirk. He knew damned well what I wanted to know. “Did we fuck?” I hissed, furious he made me say it and even more furious at the blush creeping across my body.

Lincoln remained perfectly quiet and I knew the delay was only meant to make me suffer as long as humanly possible. His eyes, a deep midnight blue, twinkled with merriment at my expense. I wasn’t sure of a hell of a lot of things at the moment, but I was one hundred percent certain that if Lincoln had fucked me, I enjoyed it. There was an aura of arrogance that he wore like a second skin – not the stupid kind of arrogance, but the kind that one got from being told how incredibly awesome they were. At fucking. He was probably awesome at fucking.

Finally, he said, “Trust me, Alexander; you would know it if I’d fucked you.” He leaned closer to me. “Every inch of you, inside and out, would know you’d been properly fucked.” His hot breath tickled my cheek as he spoke the words…the words that tickled me somewhere else. Fuck. How horrifying would it be if my cock got hard right about now? Pretty fucking horrifying.

“Plus, you’re straight, remember?”
T.S. McKinney lives in East Tennessee with her high school sweetheart/husband and all the countless dogs she picks up from deserted country roads. Her professional career has been in business but her heart has always belonged to the fantasy world found in books.
Creating wicked worlds where one can meet the perfect hero – and then do anything to him that you want – has been a hobby that has brought her plenty of hours of fun and naughty entertainment.
When not working, reading, or writing, she loves to spend time with my family and forcing them (because they don’t really have another choice) to allow me to redecorate their houses…and listen to my naughty…sometimes sadistic stories.

In the Spotlight: The Ghost in the Mirror by Faith Gibson (excerpt and giveaway)

Title: The Ghost in the Mirror (Samuel Dexter #1)
Author: Faith Gibson
Genre: M/M Romance
Release Date: September 29, 2016
Photographer: Randy Rls Sewell

What do you do when you have no memories of your life except the one moment that took everything away?

My name is Dex and I’m a Marine. Somewhere in the horrors of the sand overseas, an explosion took out not only most of my unit but also my memories of everything that happened before that day. When my memories don’t return, the explosion also ends my career in the military. That one moment costs me everything.

Starting from scratch sucks. I don’t even know what foods I like or what types of music I listen to. Am I a boxer or briefs man? Do I like women or men? I also have to figure out what I’m going to do with my life from this point on.

While adjusting to my new life, I start seeing things — things that no one else can see. I think that maybe my head injury caused more than amnesia. When one of my “visions” won’t leave me alone, I have no choice but to believe in ghosts.

Along with the ghosts during the day, at night I dream vividly of two men. But are these two men merely dreams, or are they memories? When one man steps through the door of my hospital room, I have the answer. This man literally tries to lead me down memory lane, culminating in a searing kiss. Too bad my brain isn’t cooperating, because this man is breathtaking.

With the help of my sassy grandmother, I begin to rebuild my life.

I am Samuel Dexter, and these are my stories.

WARNING: This book contains scenes that might be considered triggers for some. Sam is a Marine involved in an explosion. This book also (mildly) describes children being kidnapped in the past and their remains found later.


“Let me say I love the characters in this book!” – Tasty Wordgasms

“It draws you in and you have to keep reading.” – Alpha Book Club

“Love, love Faith!!!! I highly recommend this book. Another smashing success by a very talented author.” – Reader Review

I sat down on the stump and allowed the sound of the water to soothe my soul. When I had complained about karma coming after me for some wrong I’d done, Grams chewed my ass out and said I was being kept alive for something I had yet to do. Fate had tried to kill me twice, and I had survived both times, so I obviously had a purpose for still being here. That purpose manifested itself in front of me. I was so used to Cindy being around me now that I had stopped being surprised when she showed up. She climbed down the bank and stood in the water.
“Can you feel that? Can you feel the water rushing over your feet?”
She shook her head no. The little girl bent down and tried to run her hand through the rolling water, but nothing happened. It was in that moment that I vowed to stop being a whiny bitch. This little girl had lost her life, most assuredly in a horrific way, and I was complaining because I was alive. She floated back onto the bank and walked toward me. Cindy climbed up on my lap and leaned her head against my good shoulder. I would have given anything to feel her hair tickling my neck. This precious child needed comfort, and I couldn’t give it to her.
“I’m sorry I got hurt, but I promise I’ll start searching for clues again real soon. I have to go to see Dr. Carr tomorrow, so I’ll stop by the old fairground then.” Her essence combined with mine briefly, letting me know she was okay with what I had said. It was the strangest feeling, having another entity flow through you. She leaned back and mouthed something. Of course I couldn’t hear her and reminded her of it. She jumped down from my lap and mimed singing into a microphone. “You want me to sing?” Cindy nodded so hard, her hair bounced up and down. “Okay, kid. It’s your ears.”
I’d been in a pensive mood ever since Orlando’s visit at the hospital, so I decided to sing something upbeat. I started belting out Jason Mraz’s “I’m Yours”, and my little ghost started dancing. She grabbed the sash of her dress, holding on to both dirty ends as she twirled around, making her blue dress float around her. For the first time since she appeared to me, Cindy smiled, and I laughed. I was so caught up in the connection between the two of us that I didn’t hear the footsteps behind me. When a voice joined mine, blending in perfect harmony, I froze and Cindy disappeared.
I wanted to stop singing so badly, but I wanted to continue hearing his beautiful voice worse. I closed my eyes and sang, because if I looked up at Orlando, I’d have probably done something really unmanly. Like cried. And begged. And begged while I was crying. I’m not sure what I’d have begged him for, but it seemed the right thing to do. After the song was over, only then did I open my eyes. “We always did sound good together,” he whispered.
“I wish I could remember that.” I spoke honestly, keeping my eyes to the spot where Cindy had been. “I want so badly to remember it all, and I bet you’d probably like to forget.”
“Honestly? Yes. Most days I would like to forget I ever met you. Then there are the good days I cling to what we had and hope it wasn’t my only shot at ever finding love. But if it was, then at least I knew a love like no other.”
Orlando’s words killed me. Stabbed me in the heart, twisted, and pulled the organ out of my chest, tossing it to the ground where it landed with a flat thud at my feet. Then I remembered that he had a wife and child. If what he just said was true, he didn’t love his wife. God, how screwed up was that?
“Before we get to the reason I’m here, would you mind telling me who you were singing and laughing with when I walked up?”
Well, fuck.


Faith Gibson is a multi-genre author who lives outside Nashville, Tennessee with the love of her life, and her four-legged best friends. She strongly believes that love is love, and there’s not enough love in the world.
She began writing in high school and over the years, penned many stories and poems. When her dreams continued to get crazier than the one before, she decided to keep a dream journal. Many of these night-time escapades have led to a line, a chapter, and even a complete story. You won’t find her books in only one genre, but they will all have one thing in common: a happy ending.


When asked what her purpose in life is, she will say to entertain the masses. Even if it’s one person at a time. When Faith isn’t hard at work on her next story, she can be found playing trivia while enjoying craft beer, reading, or riding her Harley.



Faith is the author of The Stone Society, a paranormal, post-apocalyptic shapeshifters series; The Music Within, a MM romance series; and The Samuel Dexter books, stories about a retired Marine ghost hunter who has lost all his memories from before the accident that took him out of commission.

Want an Authorgrpah?  Head over to now


NEW COVERS for Looking for Home & Choosing Us (More Than Friends Series #9 & #10) by Aria Grace~Wrapping Up Cover Reveal Week


Enticing Journey Book Promotions presents…

Wrapping Up Cover Reveal Week
More Than Friends Series by Aria Grace
Final Day: Looking for Home & Choosing Us

Available Now


Evan was heartbroken when Nick left him two years ago to live a party life. He focused on his job as a truck driver and put his own needs on the back burner.

Georgie is a favorite at Paddles, providing personal entertainment to anyone looking for a sexy femme boi. 

When they meet at a party, it doesn’t seem like more than a superficial connection. Neither expect to find actual happiness from each other. 

A sweet and heartbreaking story that you won’t be able to put down until it’s finished.


Steve and Joey have a perfect life. They’re happy with the home they’ve built together and have no plans to change anything. When Joey runs into Adam, a past coworker from his days at a male brothel, old feelings are stirred up.

Adam has been living on the streets, barely getting by, but not without resorting to a vice he thought he’d long kicked. He’s losing hope and afraid to trust anyone when Joey walks back into his life.


While searching for a missing friend, Joey finds Adam in a park. Sick and alone, Joey can’t leave him. He takes him home, knowing he and Steve can help him find what he’s looking for.

It’s awkward at first, but feelings between the three men quickly develop. Promises for a future are made but Adam has no intention of being around long enough to see them fulfilled.

Born and raised in beautiful California, Aria enjoys the year round sunshine and laid back environment of the west coast. Her career started out in tech writing and web development and has evolved into all things marketing with fingers in everything related to book publishing. 
She lives with her husband and two children and more pets than she can keep track of. Despite her crazy schedule, she loves the time she carves out to read and write. Whether it’s on the beach or on the couch at 2am, she is a woman obsessed!


She loves to hear from readers so please feel free to drop her a note or visit her at


If you’d like to know when Aria’s next book is coming out or where she’ll be signing, join her mailing list at:

Cover Reveal Week Recap




Cover Reveal Week
More Than Friends Series by Aria Grace
Thank you for sharing the covers
Series is Available Now
Giveaways Still OPEN



NEW COVERS for My Name is Luka & Finally Found (More Than Friends Series #7 & #8) by Aria Grace (Excerpt and Giveaway)


Enticing Journey Book Promotions presents…

Cover Reveal Week
More Than Friends Series by Aria Grace
Day 4: My Name is Luka & Finally Found
Available Now

Brad spends his days swinging a hammer and his weekend nights pouring drinks just to keep his nose clean. At only twenty-one, he’s already had enough trouble to last him a lifetime. But when he realizes the boy upstairs has new injuries that coincide with loud shouting matches from that apartment, he knows he has to do something to help.

What the fuck is that? I open my eyes and take a look around the room. I must have fallen asleep on the sofa because there’s a game show on TV and shouting coming from the apartment above me.
I grab the remote and turn off the screen, leaving my apartment in silence as I strain to hear what’s being said through the ceiling. I can’t make out anything more than jumbled words but the wall shakes as something pounds against it. My guess is a fist but it could be anything.
The building is silent for a moment then another pounding on the wall and something falls to the ground. After hearing a door slam, there’s a soft dragging overhead that gets me worried. More worried than I was before.
I don’t like to butt into other people’s drama. It’s not my business. God knows I’ve been on the other side of curious stares and concerned looks in my time. And all I ever wanted was for people to look the other fucking way and not ask me what’s going on. But the slow dragging above me has me picturing a dead body being shoved into a suitcase or something. Maybe I shouldn’t have mixed beer with the pain killers because I’m not usually so dramatic.
While I’m contemplating whether this is the kind of shit that happens every day while I’m at work, I hear another door slam and pounding of boots on the staircase.
I take a step into the shadow of my hallway and watch as a heavy set man in some kind of uniform jacket lumbers past my window with a lunch box in his hand. He’s probably in his early fifties but is wide enough that he could do some damage if he wanted to.
The image of the boy from earlier makes my heart stop. Did this guy and that kid come from the same apartment upstairs? I never noticed who moved in because I’m rarely home. I work all day then head to the gym and eat out every night, unless I’m working at Ray’s. I only come home to sleep and change so I’m never around during normal human hours.
The sound of shuffling above me sets me at ease. At least someone is alive up there. I decide to give him ten minutes then I’m going up. I’ll ask to borrow a cup of sugar or some lame shit like that. I just need to make sure there isn’t someone bleeding out upstairs because I was too lazy to check on them.
I watch the clock. Time seems to be crawling until I can’t wait any longer. I grab a small coffee cup and step outside. It’s not exactly a measuring cup but I don’t cook or bake so I don’t have that stuff. I do, however, drink an assload of coffee so this will have to do.
Just as I take my first step on the stairs, I see the kid from earlier. He’s sitting on the top step with his head leaning against the railing and his eyes shut. If I couldn’t see his narrow chest taking shallow breaths under the bloody wife beater, I’d think he’s dead.
I clear my throat quietly to get his attention. He rouses slowly then opens his eyes. I expect to see surprise but the fear reflecting back at me is heart breaking. “Hey, you okay?”
I take a step forward and he leans back and shakes his head. Does that mean he’s not okay or he doesn’t want me to move any closer?
“It’s okay.” I raise my hands out in front of me. “I just wanted to check on you.”
“I’m fine.” His voice is so quiet I almost don’t hear him. He opens and closes his mouth a few times like he tastes something funny then he looks around with a panicked expression. “I’m gonna be sick.”
I take the steps three at a time and reach him as he bends over the rail and pukes. I don’t want to spook him but he doesn’t look stable and I don’t want him to take a header over the side so I stand close enough behind him to grab him if he leans too far over, without actually touching him.
After he empties his belly and spits a few times, he seems to be more coherent. But he still doesn’t look at me and his body is tense again. “Sorry about that. Um, I should go lay down.”
I take a step back and nod. “Is there anyone home that can keep an eye on you?”
He frowns as he looks up at me. “I’m not a baby. I’m fine by myself.”
I offer a small smile and pat his arm gently. “I know. I just mean, if you’re feeling sick, you might get worse. Is someone home that can get you to the doctor if you need to go?”
“I don’t need a doctor.” He stands to his full height of six feet, exactly my height. “I’ll be fine.”
I take a deep breath and look around. The small complex is unusually quiet. There doesn’t seem to be another soul out tonight. “Look, I’ll feel a lot better if you aren’t alone. Want to hang out with me for a while? I was gonna order a pizza.”
“No, thanks.” He glances up at me but his eyes stop at my mouth. “Um, I’ll be okay.”
Now I’m watching his mouth. His full lips look extremely kissable even though I know he just puked. He’s classically handsome with a sharp jawline and nose that may have been broken once or twice. It’s perfect.
“Come on.” I lift my hand and show him the cast. “I just broke my wrist and I’m stuck home for a couple weeks. It’s only been a few hours and I’m already bored out of my mind. Just help me eat a pizza so I don’t inhale the whole thing and turn into a ball of dough while I’m waiting for this to heal.”
The corner of his mouth turns up just a bit. Seems like he doesn’t smile too often. That makes me want to give him a reason to smile even more. “Yeah, okay.”
“Great.” I watch him steady himself for the climb down the steep staircase. I climb just a step ahead of him so if he does lose his balance, he won’t go far before I can catch him.
We get inside my place and I walk to the fridge. “Want some water or…” I dig around toward the back. “I’ve got a can of 7-Up in here. That might settle your stomach.”
“Anything’s fine,” he says quietly.
I look up and see he’s swaying on his feet, still standing just inside the door. “Have a seat, um, I don’t think I caught you name.”
“Oh, Luka. My name is Luka.” He reaches for the can of soda I offer and takes a seat in the far corner of my couch. “Is this okay?”
I notice he’s gesturing to his position on the couch. “Of course.” I can feel my brows furrow as I watch his timid motions. “You can sit anywhere you want.”
“Thanks.” He leans back and pops the top on the can.
“Anytime, Luka.” I sit in the armchair next to him. Close but not too close. “I’m Brad, by the way.”
His eyes meet mine and hold there. Afraid to make any sudden movements, I don’t even breathe while he’s inspecting my face then letting his eyes linger down to my chest.
That’s when I remember I’m not wearing a shirt. No wonder he was scared when he first saw me. The dragon wrapped around my side and blowing fire across my belly is probably a little intimidating. “Sorry.” I stand and walk across the room. “Let me just grab a shirt.”
Luka quickly turns away without saying a word. He’s certainly a quiet kid. Nothing like me when I was his age. What is his age anyway?
I return wearing a faded Seahawks t-shirt. I’m probably projecting but he seems to be almost disappointed.
“So, Luka,” I open a water bottle and take a seat, “Wanna tell me what happened to your head?”
“Walked into a door.” His words sound rehearsed, almost instinctive. And very obviously a lie.
“I know that’s not what happened,” I say calmly, hoping to win his trust. “You can tell me the truth. I might be able to help.”
His eyes grow wide and he shakes his head, then winces at the movement. “You can’t. I’m fine.”
“Okay,” I want to comfort him in some way but there isn’t any appropriate way for me to touch him so I don’t move. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But, I promise not to judge you or cause any trouble.”
I pause to see if he’ll respond. He doesn’t but his eyes flit to mine before they lock on his hands in his lap.
“Just know that if you want to talk, I’m here.”
Luka nods almost imperceptibly then pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Yeah.” He takes a slow breath then peeks over to me. “You got any Advil I can borrow?”
I smile at his choice of words. Unless he thinks he’s gonna puke it back up and return it to me, it’ll be a gift instead of a loan. “No Advil with a concussion but I’ve got some Tylenol around here. Gimme a sec.”
With his eyes still closed, he takes a sip of the soda and relaxes into the back cushion. The couch isn’t fancy but it’s damn comfortable. I head into the kitchen and dig through a basket on top of the fridge where I toss random stuff. There are rolls of gauze and packets of antibacterial ointment and several half full containers of pills.
I spill two white and red capsules into my palm then set the bottle on the table in front of Luka. He’ll need more later if he feels as bad as he looks.
When I realize he’s asleep, I take a moment to really look at him. His chiseled features bear zero resemblance to the man I saw leave his apartment earlier. He must look like his mother, unless that asshole that knocked him around isn’t actually his father. Maybe he’s a stepdad. Who the hell knows? What I do know is that he needs to rest and I don’t want him to leave.
It takes me a minute to battle with myself over whether or not to wake him. I know it’s fine for him to sleep even if he has a concussion but he doesn’t look comfortable at all. He’ll wake up in more pain than he started in if I don’t get him to lie down.
“Luka,” I whisper, nudging his arm. That’s when I notice all the bruises on his arms that are in various states of healing. Fucking bastard must do this on a regular basis. “Luka, how about you lie down so you’re more comfortable.”
He doesn’t respond so I start to get nervous that maybe he has slipped into a coma but then he wakes with a jolt. “What? What happened?”
“Nothing,” I say, rubbing a clear patch of his arm. “I just wanted you to lie down so you can get some rest.”
He looks at me with confusion for a minute then remembers where he is. “Oh, thanks but I should go home. I’m really tired.”
My hand instinctively closes around his arm, holding him in place. He tenses and fear fills his eyes as he slowly looks down at my hand.
I immediately release my grip and step back. “Please, stay.” I give him a small smile that I hope looks concerned and not creepy. “I’ll wake you up every few hours to see how you’re doing. But I’ll worry all night if you’re up there alone.”
He watches me for a long time. His eyes move from mine to my mouth and then to the hand that was just holding his bare skin. He is considering it but still on the fence.
“I promise you’ll be safe here.”

For the past six years at the University of Oregon, Trey has been completely focused on studying. With no time for relationships, he’s had to rely on the occasional hookup to fulfil his physical need for companionship. Now that he’s almost done with his Masters in Biology, his attention is on his career. Relationships will have to wait. Again.

Chuck is hitching his way down the coast, taking odd jobs to survive while trying to stay off the radar of an abusive ex. He just wants to get to L.A. in one piece so he can start over. His job skills are limited, but even working in porn will be better than what he’s running from. Hiding is hard but Chuck isn’t ready to be found.
Born and raised in beautiful California, Aria enjoys the year round sunshine and laid back environment of the west coast. Her career started out in tech writing and web development and has evolved into all things marketing with fingers in everything related to book publishing. 
She lives with her husband and two children and more pets than she can keep track of. Despite her crazy schedule, she loves the time she carves out to read and write. Whether it’s on the beach or on the couch at 2am, she is a woman obsessed!


She loves to hear from readers so please feel free to drop her a note or visit her at


If you’d like to know when Aria’s next book is coming out or where she’ll be signing, join her mailing list at:

Cover Reveal Week Recap


Cover Reveal Week
More Than Friends Series by Aria Grace
Day 5: Looking for Home & Choosing Us
Stay Tuned..Coming August 26, 2016


NEW COVERS for Choosing Happy & Just Stay (More Than Friends Series #3 & #4) by Aria Grace (character interview)

Enticing Journey Book Promotions presents…
Cover Reveal Week
More Than Friends Series by Aria Grace
Day 2: Choosing Happy & Just Stay
Available Now

Zach’s ex, Steve, is living in Portland with many regrets. He has alienated the people he cares most about by making bad choices that continue to haunt him. When he meets a kid that’s in a bad relationship and needs some help, Steve reluctantly offers it, knowing it’s his chance to redeem himself. What he doesn’t expect is to find happiness. It’s there, all he has to do it choose to accept it.


When Spencer agreed to help take down the leader of a Portland crime family, he didn’t realize he’d end the night with the bloodied body of an unknowing accomplice in his arms. His initial interest in Dylan was purely physical but when Dylan stepped in front of Topher’s gun and saved Spencer, the lust quickly turned into something more. Something he wasn’t sure he’d ever find in the fast-paced dot com world he was from. 


Interview with Steve from Choosing Happy
Enticing Journey: 
Steve, thanks so much for taking the time to meet with us today. I know you’ve got a lot going on right now.




No problem. I’m happy to be here. Rachel is watching the cart so I’m good.

Enticing Journey:
Excellent. So let’s just jump to it. How are things going with you and Joey?




Joey is good. We’ve got to deal with a few demons in his past. But once I get a few things straightened out, I think he’ll be just fine.

Enticing Journey:
And when you say demons, what are you referring to?




He has a debt that he’s been working off, so to speak. But he um, quit that job, so I’m going to take of that debt for him.

Enticing Journey:
You’re just paying off his debt. He’s basically a stranger. Why would you do that for someone you barely know?




When you put it that way, it does sound a little strange. But the truth is, he’s a good kid that just needs a break. I’ve hit rock bottom a few times in my past and it wasn’t until someone held out a hand to me that I was able to get my shit together. Joey isn’t in the same situation I was but I feel like I owe it to him to give him that same chance someone once gave me. 

Enticing Journey:
And who was the someone that helped you out?




It doesn’t matter now. He’s gone. Motorcycle accident. The point is, I’ve screwed up a lot of lives in my past. Now I’m at the point where I can start helping people. I dunno. It just feels like what I’m supposed to be doing.

Enticing Journey:
And after his debts are paid, do you see anything more coming from your relationship.




I’m not gonna lie and say I haven’t dreamt about something like that but I’m no fool. Joey has a lot of living to do before he should even think of settling down. It’s a nice idea but totally unrealistic. That’s not why I’m helping him. Although, if he wanted to take my swing for a ride, I wouldn’t say no.

Enticing Journey:
The swing! Is that an important part of your sex life?


Important? No. Part of it? Yes. Most of the guys I bring home are looking for as much of an escape from reality as I am. I don’t use it often, but it’s a fun way to spend an evening. But I wouldn’t even consider it until after his current situation is resolved. That prick DeMonaco might not give him up so easily. 


Enticing Journey: 
Well, promise us you’ll be careful and keep in touch. Whether Joey stays in your life or not, we want to know what happens with his debt.


Will do. And thanks for sharing my story. Now, I better run. Rachel has to pick up her daughter in an hour and if she’s late, she makes me pay the $5 per minute late fee. Preschools are a total racket these days.


Enticing Journey: 
Okay, okay. You get out of here. Just promise not to be a stranger.




No worries. I’ll come back in a few months with an update.
Born and raised in beautiful California, Aria enjoys the year round sunshine and laid back environment of the west coast. Her career started out in tech writing and web development and has evolved into all things marketing with fingers in everything related to book publishing. 
She lives with her husband and two children and more pets than she can keep track of. Despite her crazy schedule, she loves the time she carves out to read and write. Whether it’s on the beach or on the couch at 2am, she is a woman obsessed!


She loves to hear from readers so please feel free to drop her a note or visit her at
If you’d like to know when Aria’s next book is coming out or where she’ll be signing, join her mailing list at:
Cover Reveal Week
More Than Friends Series by Aria Grace
Day 3: Hands On & Best Chance
Stay Tuned..Coming August 24, 2016


Is There Love Without Pain? Find Out with ‘Debt’ by K.C. Well {excerpt and giveaway}

Title: Debt
Author: K.C. Wells
Genre: M/M Romance
Release Date: May 27, 2016
Release Blitz Hosted by Enticing Journey Book Promotions

Two months after Mitch Jenkins had the rug pulled out from under him when his two-year relationship came to an abrupt end, he is still hurting. A colleague’s attempt to cheer him up brings Mitch to a secret “club.” Mitch isn’t remotely interested in the twinks parading like peacocks, until he spies the young man at the back of the room, nose firmly in a book and oblivious to his surroundings. Now Mitch is interested.

Nikko Kurokawa wants to pay his debt and get the hell out of the Black Lounge—where he is forced not only to have sex, but sometimes suffer abuse to please clients. Earning his freedom isn’t proving easy, especially when he starts attracting interest. Life becomes that little bit easier to bear when he meets Mitch, who is nothing like the other men who frequent the club. And when Mitch crawls under his skin and into his heart, Nikko figures he can put up with anything. Before long he’ll be out of there, and he and Mitch can figure out if they have a future together.

Neither of them counted on those who don’t want Nikko to leave….

“Debt is sexy & dangerous; it has it all: age gap, hurt-comfort, suspense, sweetness, serious steam, a happy ending, and two men who refuse to give up on each other.” – Reader review

“Well written, at times heartbreaking, often touching, very sexy, and with an unforgettable storyline and characters, Debt is without a doubt one of my favourites among K.C. Well’s amazing books.” – Reader review

“Have you ever come across a book that grabs you by the heart, shakes you up, drags you through a myriad of emotions, then spits you out the other side happy and hopeful, yet wondering what happened and how you got there? Well, Debt by K.c. Wells is one of those stories.” – Reader review

“So?” Aaron nudged him again. “Which one lights your candle?” He grinned. “You’ve got to admit, there are some beautiful men in there.” He nodded toward one young man standing nearest the window. He was stroking down over his chest and well-defined abs, to where a thick cock jutted out toward them. Just then the young man turned and bent over, reaching back to spread his cheeks and reveal a pink, glistening hole, clearly lubed. He wiggled his ass, his dick bobbing stiffly.

Aaron smothered a chuckle. “Wow. He’s eager.”

That wasn’t the word in Mitch’s mind. He preferred blatant, and it wasn’t turning him on. In fact, none of them were.

“This is a mistake,” he said quietly. “Thanks for bringing me here, but honestly, this isn’t me. And there isn’t one guy who does it for me.” His gaze swept across the room, taking in the smiling, pouting faces and….

Mitch stopped, his pulse quickening. “Him.” How did I miss him?

Aaron peered in the direction of Mitch’s stare. “Which one?”

At the back of the room was a small table and a couple of armchairs facing each other. In one of them sat a young man with long, black hair tied in a single braid down his back. He was Japanese in appearance, with small, round glasses perched on his nose. Physically he was slight, not that tall as far as Mitch could tell. Unlike the others, he wore a pair of jeans and a white shirt.

What caught Mitch’s attention was the fact that he was reading a book, his legs curled up under him, lost in his own world.

“Mitch?” Aaron pinched his arm.

“Hey!” Mitch grumbled, rubbing the spot near his elbow. “What was that for?”

“You were off in cloud cuckoo land.” Aaron cocked his eyebrows. “Well? I repeat, which one?”

“The one with the book.” There was something so delightfully incongruous about him that Mitch was intrigued.


Mitch dragged his gaze away to give Aaron a firm stare. “You said to take my pick, so I pick him.” He couldn’t account for the way his body reacted to the young man. His heart pounded and his mouth was dry.

“That’s Nikko. He’s new here.”

Mitch turned toward the speaker. A dark-haired man wearing a black suit and matching shirt smiled at him. “My name is Randy. I’m here to give you any information you require.” He gave a flick of his head toward the window. “Nikko only joined us recently. Would you like to meet him, and if so, for how long?”

His heart still racing, Mitch regarded the young man who was oblivious to his surroundings. “An hour?”

Beside him Aaron chuckled. “And that’s my cue to leave.” He patted Mitch on the arm. “Enjoy, with my blessing. You can tell me all about it on Monday.”

“Thanks, Aaron.” Mitch gave him a warm smile. “And as for Monday? Uh-uh.” The smile became a grin. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

He snorted. “Spoilsport. And you have nothing to thank me for yet.” Aaron grinned. “See ya.” He walked toward the door and gave one last wave before disappearing through it.

Mitch returned his attention to Randy, who was regarding him with a hint of amusement. Mitch cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I’m new to all this.”

Randy’s smile widened. “Then you and Nikko have something in common. Do you have your card?” Mitch held it up and Randy peered at it. “Okay, that’s fine. If you’ll come with me, please?”

He led Mitch through the door at the end of the lounge. They were in a long hallway with doors on either side. Randy escorted Mitch to door number seven and opened it. The room was small, but what it lacked in size, it made up for in furnishings. In the corner was a Chinese painted screen and a washbasin with a thick towel hanging from a rail beside it. Most of the space was taken up by a bed adorned with white sheets, a soft gray comforter, pillows, and cushions. A wide chair faced the bed, its cushions deep. There were no windows. At the head of the bed was a large mirror, and beside it, a small cabinet with two drawers.

“You’ll find condoms and packets of lube in the cabinet,” Randy said. “You’re aware of the club’s strict safe-sex policy.”

Mitch nodded. He had no problem with that. He’d never had bareback sex in his life.

“There are also some toys, should you require them. If there’s something particular you’d like, simply ask. We do cater for those clients who are into S&M, but they generally stipulate their needs ahead of time. Would that be of interest to you this evening?”

Mitch was sure his face was bright red. “Uh, not for me, thank you.”

Randy gave a polite nod. “Then I shall go and bring Nikko to you.” He exited the room.

Mitch gazed around him while he removed his jacket. He placed it on the chair and examined the prints on the wall. The room was definitely nothing like he’d expected; he’d had something much more austere in mind. A glance behind the screen revealed a toilet, tastefully hidden from view.

They really do think of everything.

Mitch scanned the walls and corners for any sign of a camera. Nothing. But from a safety aspect alone, he knew there had to be one in there somewhere.

Damn, they’re good.

He came back to the bed and sat, bouncing on it to test its springiness.

“Are we to be using it as a trampoline?” a soft voice asked.

Mitch jerked his head toward the door just as it closed gently. Nikko stood there, his fingers laced together in front of him, dark brown eyes focused on Mitch, his braid not visible, his expression impassive.

Mitch coughed and rose to his feet. “Maybe not.” He took a few steps toward Nikko, his hand extended, his belly tensed. Inwardly he cursed his uncertainty. It wasn’t as if he was a stranger to meeting guys, but after two years of being in a relationship, he felt decidedly out of practice. And this was definitely a new experience.

Nikko took his hand almost shyly and shook it, his fingers cool to the touch. “I’m Nikko.” The handshake over, he laced his fingers once more and stepped back, maintaining his distance from Mitch. His manner had Mitch retreating too.

“Is that your real name, or just one you use here?” Mitch wanted to know. When Nikko raised his eyebrows, Mitch felt the warm flush that rose up his chest and neck. “I’m sorry. This is my first time in a… in one of these places.”

Nikko became still for a moment, tension evident in his posture. When he smiled, it didn’t reach his eyes. “Then we have something in common. And to answer your question, Nikko is my real name. May I know yours?” Those eyes were captivating, a rich, deep brown framed with long, sooty black lashes, and set in a pale, unblemished face.

“I’m Mitch.” It was on the tip of his tongue to say Pleased to meet you, but the words sounded wrong given the circumstances. I don’t suppose there are etiquette rules for greeting a hooker in a brothel.

Not that Nikko resembled his preconceptions of what a hooker looked like. The young man was beautiful, maybe five foot five, six max. He felt tiny next to Mitch’s five foot eleven. Those clasped fingers were slim, his hands delicate. Mitch was reminded of one of his mother’s ethereal porcelain figurines in her china cabinet back home. They shared that same fragile quality.

“Are… are you feeling awkward too?” Nikko asked, biting his bottom lip. “You’re my first… client.” A flush crept across his cheeks and his ears turned red.

His words stirred something in Mitch’s chest, an absurd desire to enfold Nikko in his arms, to protect him. The yearning took him by surprise. Maybe it was Nikko’s slight build, his fragility, that engendered the inclination. Whatever it was, it sent a rush of warmth through Mitch’s body.

He beckoned to Nikko. “Come here.”

Slowly Nikko walked over to him, his gaze fixed on Mitch’s face. He stopped a few feet in front of him and tilted his chin up, not quite meeting Mitch’s gaze. The rapid rise and fall of Nikko’s chest, the ragged breathing, betrayed the nerves he hid. Mitch stretched out his hand to cup Nikko’s face, his large hand exaggerating the diminutive young man’s size.

“How old are you?” Mitch asked quietly. Nikko had to be barely legal.

“I-I’m twenty-two,” Nikko said in a low voice that cracked. “I know how I look, Mitch. I’m old enough to work here. This may be my first time with a client, but I’m not a virgin.”

“I never thought for a second that a virgin would be working here,” Mitch admitted. He tilted his head. “You can come closer, you know. I won’t hurt you.”

Nikko swallowed, blinking. “I… I’m sorry. It’s just that you’re not how I expected a client to be.”

Mitch took a step closer. “How did you think I would be?” He kept his voice low and soothing. Nikko reminded him of a colt he’d spent time with on his uncle’s farm as a boy. The young man gave an impression of being about to bolt at any second.

Nikko took a deep breath. “I didn’t expect to be treated with so much… respect.”

Now Mitch got it. “Come closer,” he said, coaxingly. When Nikko hesitated, Mitch gave him a warm smile. “Nikko, I meant it. I will not hurt you. I don’t have it in me to do that.”

Nikko regarded him in silence. “I believe you.” He inhaled slowly and took that last step to bring him to Mitch.

Mitch couldn’t help himself. He bent his head lower and took Nikko’s mouth in a gentle kiss. Nikko held himself still for a moment longer before putting his slim arms around Mitch’s neck and responding, his lips parting.

When Mitch broke the kiss, Nikko looked up at him with shining eyes. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

Nikko smiled, this time genuinely. “For being gentle.” His breathing hitched. “You… you make this easier than I thought it would be, Mitch.”

Mitch’s first reaction was a surge of pleasure, until a thought nagged at him. He paused, his hands on Nikko’s shoulders. “Are you here because you want to be?” Something about Nikko’s choice of words tugged at his mind.

Nikko regarded him, face calm. “I chose to be here, Mitch. Have no doubt about that.” There was no trace of deception in his voice or expression. He reached up with both hands and cupped Mitch’s face. “Kiss me again?” His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Are you asking because you want to be kissed or because you feel you should ask?”

Nikko stared at him, lowering his hands, his eyes wide. “You are… perceptive.”

Mitch shrugged. “I use my eyes, is all. If you’d rather we sit on the bed for a while, maybe chat, that’s okay, I don’t mind.” He waited for Nikko to make the next move. The young man was skittish enough without Mitch making matters worse.

Nikko’s breathing grew more even. “Then I should like you to kiss me, because”—he stroked Mitch’s cheek, the touch light, and for the first time, he looked Mitch in the eye—“because I want you to.”

Mitch smiled. “That’s better.” He caressed Nikko’s cheek, brushing his fingertips over his cheekbones. “Because I want to kiss you.”

Nikko closed his eyes, lips parted, waiting.

Fuck. Nikko was beautiful.
Born and raised in the north-west of England, K.C. WELLS always loved writing. Words were important. Full stop. However, when childhood gave way to adulthood, the writing ceased, as life got in the way. K.C. discovered erotic fiction in 2009, when the purchase of a ménage storyline led to the startling discovery that reading about men in love was damn hot. In 2012, arriving at a really low point in life led to the desperate need to do something creative. An even bigger discovery waited in the wings—writing about men in love was even hotter….

K.C. now writes full-time and is loving every minute of her new career. The laptop still has no idea of what hit it… it only knows that it wants a rest, please. And it now has to get used to the idea that where K.C goes, it goes. 

And as for those men in love that she writes about? The list of stories just waiting to be written is getting longer… and longer….


It’s Cover Reveal Time for Blue by D.P. Denman (excerpt, giveway and more)

Title: Blue
Author: D.P. Denman
Genre: Gayrom, MM
Release Date: September 25, 2015

Long before he was a successful songwriter and black-belt badass, Blue was a survivor. 
He escaped a program designed to cure him. One that left him near death with nothing to rely on but the kindness of a stranger. Hostile and headstrong, he needed a calmer influence to balance his fury. Someone to save him from himself. 

Brady’s life was quiet and orderly until fate sent him a blue-eyed hurricane. Bursts of temper and flashes of despair battered his efforts to quiet the storm in a man he doubted he could tame. One drowning in the wreckage of his past. 
With a head full of lies and a body full of scars, Blue worked to rebuild his life with the help of a man who showed him sometimes trust is worth the risk.

Blue features one of the most popular characters from the Saving Liam saga! Destined for greatness, he reveals the past that made him the scarred bad boy readers love.
A burst of resolve pushed Blue through the open doors of Brady’s office but left him speechless when he crossed the threshold. Brady stood near the window in a dark polo shirt that covered broad shoulders and the swell of pecs. He knew from experience that body was as solid as the wall he was tempted to lean against for support. Desire made him dizzy, anxious, twitchy.

“Hi.” Brady smiled when he saw him, an expression that had always been warm and reassuring.

He let it soothe him as he stepped further into the room caught between the fear of looking like an idiot and frustration over unanswered questions. He grabbed the frustration and held it close.

“I have a question, and I don’t know how to ask it.”

“Well,” Brady rested his ass against the windowsill and crossed his legs at the ankles, “you can either stumble around with it or just spit it out. I’m okay with blunt.”

“You might be sorry you said that in a minute.” He tried to smile, refusing to wipe sweaty palms on his jeans. “Are you gay?”

Brady’s eyebrows twitch up his forehead, and he blinked. “That’s blunt.”
“I said you’d be sorry.”

“You did.” Brady nodded, folding his arms.

Brady took longer contemplating the answer than he’d expected. He didn’t know what that meant. His stomach clenched, heat spreading through his chest, threatening to bubble into a blush so hot it charred his skin.

“Yes. I’m gay.” Brady stared back at him.

He was so relieved he wanted to laugh. He hadn’t misread that part, and if that much was true, he wondered if he’d misread any of it. He decided to stick with blunt.

“In that case, I have another question.” He took a few steps closer, leaving several feet between them.

“I thought you might.”

“Do you like me?”

“Of course, I like you.”

“No. I mean are you into me?”

Brady’s attempt at a pleasant expression crumpled into a frown. “Why?”

“Because I’ve been feeling things and sensing things, and I’m tired of guessing whether they’re real.”

It was the most honest he’d been with anyone in months and for the first time since running off to fail at life a year ago, he didn’t feel the tight knot of apprehension that usually followed those confessions.

He had secrets. Dark things he never shared because the camp taught him more than how to loathe physical contact. It taught him the value of keeping everything to himself. Brady was the exception. Blue kept him in the dark because he hid everything from everyone, but Brady knew most of his secrets already. Nothing he confessed ever seemed to shock him, though that conversation came close.

“What kind of things?” Brady’s tone was quiet, gentle.

“Things that make me wish I wasn’t afraid to touch you.”

Brady added a sad smile to the frown. “I wish you weren’t either, but it might be better that way.”


“Because I don’t think you’re ready for this.”

Disappointment flung itself against his ribs in an aching fit. The anger that flashed through him an instant later burned it to ash.

“How do you know what I’m ready for?” he demanded.

“We wouldn’t have much of a relationship when Mary is the only one who can touch you without sending you into orbit.”

“Like you’ve tried.”

“You’re the one who said you’re afraid to touch me. Don’t pretend I’m jumping to conclusions,” Brady said.

“So I’m afraid. So what? That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t do it anyway.”
“Fine. Then kiss me.”
Award winning author DP Denman writes character-driven contemporary romance about gay men. Her stories are real and intense, but resolve in endings that make people want to read the book all over again. She lives among the moss and trees of the Pacific Northwest with a rambunctious pair of fur babies.
In her spare time, she is a dedicated LGBTQIA rights activist with a special focus on the thousands of rejected and abandoned kids who end up on the street every year. To support the cause, 25% of the royalties from every book go to LGBT charities.


Our Focus is On…..Secret by Kindle Alexander (excerpt and giveaway)

Title: Secret
Author: Kindle Alexander
Genre: M/M Romance
Release Date: Summer 2015
Tristan Wilder, self-made millionaire and devastatingly handsome CEO of Wilder-Nation is on the verge of a very lucrative buyout. With tough negotiations ahead, he’s armed with his acquisition pitch, ready to launch the deal of a lifetime. There’s just one glitch. The last thing he expects is to fall for the hot business owner he’s trying to sway.
Dylan Reeves, computer science engineer and founder of the very successful social media site, Secret, is faced with a life-altering decision. A devoted family man with three kids and a wife, Dylan has been living a secret for years. Fiercely loyal to his convictions, his boundaries blur after meeting the striking owner of the corporation interested in acquiring his company. For the first time in his life, reckless desire consumes him when the gorgeous computer mogul makes an offer he can’t refuse.
a few minutes of staring at Dylan, who hadn’t looked his way since he entered
the conference room, Tristan cleared his throat, stopping the flow of the
presentation. “Can you all give me a few minutes alone with Mr. Reeves?”
could feel every eye turned his way. Dylan was slower to respond. He’d been
reading from the contract and lifted his head, business clearly on his mind.
But the minute their gazes met, Tristan got why Dylan had avoided eye contact.
His gaze held a mixture of both heat and need. Sparks flew between the two of
them and Tristan smiled.
heard him,” Landry said and began shooing everyone out. As the last person
left, Landry came to the center of the table, standing between the two of them.
He clearly thought Tristan’s request hadn’t included him.
I need a private discussion with Mr. Reeves,” Tristan said, rising from his
seat at the end of the table. Landry came immediately to him, standing in front
of him, blocking Dylan from seeing or hearing anything he said.
don’t think that’s a good idea,” Landry whispered so quietly Tristan barely
heard him. “We almost have them, I can see it.”
cut his eyes over to Landry’s and motioned with his head for him to move along
out the door with everyone else. Landry’s brow furrowed and he started to shake
his head. Tristan stared at him with intense attitude until he finally left the
room. Tristan had no doubt he’d stand right outside that door. There wasn’t too
much of Wilder, Inc. that Landry wasn’t included in, and he certainly wouldn’t
like being put out of a meeting he’d orchestrated. Tristan moved to a chair
directly beside Dylan who hadn’t uttered a single word since his request for
look nice today,” Tristan said quietly, smiling as Dylan’s cheeks grew red.
that why you made everyone leave?”
of course not. I could have just told you later, but that whole look’s perfect
on you. The hair’s hot. Pinstripes fit your frame remarkably well. You look
taller, more intimidating. Great look for negotiations or the cover of GQ. You
could do both.” Tristan scooted closer. “Did you get my flowers?” he asked even
did. Thank you, but that was a risky move,” Dylan said, clearly ignoring the compliment.
wrote and sealed the card myself. What did you do with the flowers?” Tristan
leaned forward, then moved in a little more, smelling Dylan’s cologne. That had
Dylan pushing back in his chair.
gave them to the concierge that helped me this morning,” Dylan answered and
then backtracked. “I didn’t think I’d be in my room very much and didn’t want
them to go to waste.”
figured you’d do something like that. It’s why I picked those colors. So that
means you’re coming with me tonight?” Tristan asked, his eyes still focused
directly on Dylan’s.
see how things go today. I’m not sure about all this. You lowballed me and I
was just reading about the staffing…” Dylan started, but Tristan lifted a hand
to Dylan’s lips to stop his words. He let his fingers linger as he spoke.
don’t want to talk business yet. I honestly was only informed of the changes to
personnel when I walked in today. From this point forward, you and I will
decide how this sale goes, no one else, but before we do, I want to put
personal before business because they are two separate entities between us.
Will you please go with me tonight? I need to cancel some things if you’re not coming,”
Tristan added at Dylan’s skeptical look.  
Best Selling Author Kindle Alexander is an innovative writer, and a genre-crosser who writes classic fantasy, romance, suspense, and erotica in both the male/male and male/female genres. It’s always a surprise to see what’s coming next!
I live in the suburbs of Dallas where it’s true, the only thing bigger than an over active imagination, may be women’s hair!
Usually, I try for funny. Humor is a major part of my life – I love to laugh, and it seems to be the thing I do in most situations – regardless of the situation, but jokes are a tricky deal… I don’t want to offend anyone and jokes tend to offend. So instead I’m going to tell you about Kindle.
I tragically lost my sixteen year old daughter to a drunk driver. She had just been at home, it was early in the night and I heard the accident happen. I’ll never forget that moment. The sirens were immediate and something inside me just knew. I left my house, drove straight to the accident on nothing more than instinct. I got to be there when my little girl died – weirdly, I consider that a true gift from above. She didn’t have to be alone.
That time in my life was terrible. It’s everything you think it would be times about a billion. I love that kid. I loved being her mother and I loved watching her grow into this incredibly beautiful person, both inside and out. She was such a gift to me. To have it all ripped away so suddenly broke me.
Her name was Kindle. Honest to goodness – it was her name and she died a few weeks before Amazon released their brand new Kindle ereader. She had no idea it was coming out and she would have finally gotten her name on something! Try finding a ruler with the name Kindle on it.. It never happened.
Through the course of that crippling event I was lucky enough to begin to write with a dear friend in the fan fiction world of Facebook. She got me through those dark days with her unwavering support and friendship. There wasn’t a time she wasn’t there for me. Sometimes together and sometimes by myself, we built a world where Kindle lives and stands for peace, love and harmony. It’s its own kind of support group. I know without question I wouldn’t be here today without her.
Find out more by visiting or email me at