Tag: LGBTQ

0Check Out This Fab Tour for “Gear Child“  by Mark David Campbell (excerpt and extras)

Gear Child - Mark David Campbell

Mark David Campbell has a new queer YA sci-fantasy book out (gay, lesbian, homonormative) Gear Box book 1: Gear Child.

From our beloved teddy bear to our cherished first car, we form deep emotional bonds with inanimate objects. Will AI machines inevitably develop the capacity to love us in return?

In a post-apocalyptic world that survives on garbage left over from the Gawd Wars eight generations ago, Sunny Boy, a semi-organic machine initially made to emulate a thirteen-year-old, and later modified as an eighteen-year-old, longs to be loved. His quest to find a family takes him from a farm in Winnipeg to the far reaches of the known galaxy. When Sunny Boy becomes embroiled in an ancient battle between a collective intelligence and a parasitic alien crystal, the boundaries between organic and inorganic life are called into question.

Warnings: Very low sex and violence (no gun play)

Series Blurb

The Gear Box Trilogy, which includes: Gear Child, The Arena of Mayhem, and The Wayward Star, is a journey of the heart that takes you from a devastated post-Gawd Wars Earth, across the Solar System to the far reaches of the galaxy, and explores the line between inanimate machine and animate life form.

Told from the perspectives of Sunny Boy, Fancy Larry, and Loofah—three AI machines—who understand the world around them through symbols, metaphors, and allegories. Along with their capacity for creative thought, empathy, and growth, they likewise struggle with issues of self-identity and self-esteem. Most of all, Sunny Boy, Fancy Larry, and Loofah, like any intelligent being, crave acceptance and long to be loved.

Gear Box Trilogy

Buy Links:

Gear Child: Universal Buy Link | Goodreads

The Arena of Mayhem: The Arena of Mayhem | Goodreads

The Wayward Star: The Wayward Star | Goodreads

Find All Three Books Here (Click on the Cover for More Details)

Excerpt

Gear Child meme

From Chapter Thirteen

I unlatched the glass, and a salty, humid breeze blew into the cabin like it was saying welcome. In no time, the burnt land below us gave way to water, and the Captain veered the airship southward.

In the distance, I made out the silhouettes of broken and battered glass and steel towers all jutting out of the ocean like fingers of drowning men reaching up to be saved. I watched as the shadow of our airship glided along the surface of the water, silently sliding over the towers.

“Is that a city?”

“Once was.” The Captain nodded. “Greatest in the world. But that’s all that’s left of it.”

“Why is it underwater?”

“Ha!” the Captain snorted. “It happened a long time ago, during the Gawd Wars and the Great Flood, when my great-great-great-granddaddy was a boy.” The Captain scratched his head. “See, way back then, everybody had their own books full of old stories about Gawd. Most of the stories were the same, but everybody told them in a different way.” He furrowed his brow. “People started fighting and killing one another to prove their way of telling the stories was right, and the way other people told the stories was wrong.”

I looked at him with my mouth hanging open, trying hard to understand why people wanted to kill each other over a bunch of old stories.

“Was Gawd bad?”

“No, I don’t think so.” He shook his head. “But by the time everybody got tired of killing one another and blaming it on Gawd…” The Captain cleared his throat. “They’d already blown up all the big cities and poisoned the land. And as if that weren’t enough, they’d also melted the polar ice caps and flooded everything remaining along the coast.” Taking his beard in his hand, he stroked it a couple of times. “People don’t talk much about Gawd anymore.”

“Is that the hand of Gawd?” I pointed to a giant green hand sticking up above the surface of the water, holding what looked like a torch.

“No. That’s the hand of a giant woman. She was one of the idols they used to worship a long time ago.” He eased the throttle and floated the ship in closer so I could get a better look.

“What happened to her?” I tried to make out her body and head below the surface of the water, but all I saw was a cluster of barnacles and algae.

“I guess she got old and tired, and people had no use for her anymore.” The Captain veered the ship southward and pulled on the big wheel. Leaving the city of dead fingers behind, we continued on down the coast, rising slowly toward the jet stream, again.

“Oh, please! Who do you think designed robos in the first place—the military! And it wasn’t only for cleaning and sex.”

“Only those who get caught are sorry.”

I thought about all the people who had died, and I felt sad, but mostly I felt sad because my name would never be recorded there or anywhere else.

“Hey, kid, don’t feel bad. It’s not about you. That boy’s head’s so full of crap, he wouldn’t know a ray of sunshine even if it was beaming up his butt hole.”

He swept the scanner across the pilot’s groin, looked at it, and laughed. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. Your sperm look like a bowl full of goldfish somebody forgot to feed.”

“I thought I was dead.” He grasped both my hands. “Who are you? Some kind of a superhero?”

I felt my face flush. “No, I’m only a robo.”

He took my hand and kissed it. “Not to me.”

“Something tells me we’ve just met the resistance.”

Spinner frowned. “Beyond those doors, there’s nothing for me. I’m not like you.”

“I’m a robo, like you.”

“No, you’re not!” Spinner practically spat out the words. “You can grow, adapt, and evolve. I can’t. This is all I can ever be.”

“We’ll go to the opera and art galleries. You’ll learn about second-hand stores and how to shop for bargains, we’ll create and redecorate, dance the night away, and sit in cafes trashing the latest clothing trends until the sun comes up.”

Author Bio

Mark David Campbell

I have a passion for science/speculative fiction that is socially and culturally driven. Maybe that’s why I studied anthropology and archaeology.

My recent publications include: Eating the Moon (NineStar Press, 2021), a dystopic story of an elderly anthropologist who stumbles across a hidden society where homosexuality is the norm and heterosexuals are marginalized. Secrets of Ishtabay (Ninestar Press, 2023) is the story of a Maya village in Belize, which struggles with its transition to globalization after the completion of a highway linking it to the outside world. The Homework Assignment (Polar Borealis Magazine of Canadian Speculative Fiction, March 2025) is a short story about an anthropology professor who asks his students to imagine first contact with an alien intelligence with whom they share only one sense.

Currently, I live in Milan, Italy, with my husband. When I’m not writing, I work with Italian sociologists, biologists, and psychoanalysts, assisting them with their English academic publications. I enjoy reading both classic and newer books, immersing myself in steampunk and futurism. I love adventure stories, and most of all, I want to fall in love with a great MC. I am dyslexic, which means I can’t spell, and I have a love/hate relationship with computers and the internet.

Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/markdavid.campbell.9

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/list/14116939.Mark_David_Campbell

Author Liminal Fiction: https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/mark-david-campbell/

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Check out this new release “Iguana“ by Vincent Traughber Meis (Other Worlds Ink Tour and excerpt )

Vincent Traughber Meis has a new MM romance out: Iguana. And there’s a giveaway!

Dawson Wozniak moved to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico looking for a change after ending a long-term relationship. Returning to the site where his parents honeymooned, immersing himself in the local culture, and meeting new friends was sure to bring adventure and, hopefully, clarity about both his past and his future. His apartment building’s manager, Ivan, throws a wrench in the plan with his handsome looks, occasional flirting, and forced distance. Just as they are about to test their undeniable curiosity and attraction for each other, a tragedy strikes the building, forcing Dawson and Ivan apart.

When it seems there are too many obstacles, Ivan insists they can’t explore their chemistry. Still, he keeps coming back and pulling Dawson in, teasing him with possibility but filling him with doubt. Soon Dawson is consumed with thoughts of Ivan and his mercurial attention, and he can’t help but compare himself to the tragic gay characters in the books he edits. One minute Ivan is playful and laughing, and the next he’s cold and aloof, battling with cultural expectations and familial responsibilities.

Dawson gives into the push and pull of this confusing but exhilarating relationship, trying to convince himself he can handle a no-strings-attached situation with a man who is still coming to terms with his sexuality…even if he knows that he would love nothing more than to have Ivan fully, openly, and all to himself. While this confusing relationship may not be the adventure he was expecting, it may just be the adventure that allows Dawson to decide exactly who and where he wants to be.

Warnings: COVID, death, drug/alcohol use, possible suicide, mention of rape

Universal Buy Link

Giveaway

Vincent is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:

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Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47326/

Excerpt

Iguana meme - Vincent Traughber Meis

A rustling in the dry undergrowth and the crackling of twigs indicated a large-ish animal. It spotted me before I spotted it, but even with its camouflage, it couldn’t hide in the sparse surroundings. The iguana slithered up the embankment to higher ground with its long black and tan striped tail fanning back and forth to aid its escape. It climbed a tree and moved out on a branch that hung over the sidewalk in front of me.

I stopped. It stopped. I took a step forward. It crawled out a little further on the branch as if it was a gatekeeper. I had never been that close to an iguana, just ten feet above me, looking fierce with a torso about three feet long and a dewlap of variegated skin fluttering under its throat. A row of spikes ran down the spine, getting shorter as they reached the long tail. I’d been told they were harmless as long as they weren’t threatened. Some people even took them on as unlikely pets, putting them on leashes and charging tourists to take a picture with them.

But there was something about the way it stared at me that kept me frozen there on the pavement, wondering if it was safe to walk under its perch on the branch. I stared back. For what seemed a long time, we stared at each other. And then, its scaly eyebrow closed over the black marble pupil in a bed of yellow iris. If we had been playing a game of who blinks first, I had won. I didn’t feel like a winner, though, and the iguana didn’t seem to care as it continued to observe me, blinking as if bored with the relative newcomer on the planet. I nodded, acknowledging I was an invader in its land. Not just as a foreigner but as a human carving into the jungle habitat of the animal.

I was in Mexico for a new beginning, walking down the hill to do my shopping, if this beast would let me. Sweat began pooling in the middle of my chest, and I needed to move on. As I passed under the branch, I swear the iguana shrugged and looked away as if it was done with me. I felt dismissed. And then I began to laugh, a laughter of relief and surprise, thrilled with this new experience, one more in a long list that seemed a daily occurrence since I had moved here.

The day had begun with clear skies broadcasting hope, the balcony slightly cooler than inside the house as I lingered over my breakfast, feeling the view of the Bay of Banderas from Punta de Mita to Los Arcos like a physical thing that coddled me. We were in the dog days of summer, with the dog-star, Sirius, rising and setting about the same time as the sun. It was the hottest time of the year, and relief only came, I was told by my neighbors, when afternoon showers again pelted the corrugated roofs of the neighborhood down below. Everyone talked of the rains coming late this year.

Before the heat and humidity became too oppressive, I planned to walk down the hill to the market and buy food for the next few days when the forecasters insisted the heavy rains would come, ushered in by thunder and lightning. I would get back up the hill before the church bells struck ten in the plaza below.

I stepped out of the apartment into the stuffy hall, which smelled of fried onions and spices I couldn’t identify from the apartment across the hall. I summoned the elevator and watched the short countdown from the rooftop to my floor. When the doors opened, Ivan in his company logo polo shirt and jeans stood chewing on one of his fingernails. He dropped his hands and folded them in front of his crotch as he stepped aside and made room. “Buenos días, señor Dawson.”

“Hola, Ivan.” I leaned against the back wall and watched his blurry reflection in the shiny metal of the doors.

On the next floor, he got off, and as the doors closed, I let out the breath I didn’t know I had been holding. The tension I felt when near him made no sense. Ivan had been hired a few months before as the day manager who oversaw daily operations in the twelve-unit building curiously named Paradiso, which sounded both presumptuous and unsettling. He handled everything from delivering packages to residents’ doors to coordinating cleanups to keeping the place secure. Everyone found him friendly and efficient. Everyone loved him. Why did I often see him joking and bantering in English and Spanish with other residents when he was all business and cold with me? Why did my packages sometimes go undelivered when everyone else got theirs the same day?

Author Bio

Vincent Traughber Meis

Vincent Traughber Meis grew up in Decatur, Illinois and graduated from Tulane University in New Orleans. He has also traveled extensively, and as result of his travels and time abroad he published a number of pieces, mostly travel articles, but also a few poems and book reviews, in publications such as, The Advocate, LA Weekly, In Style, and Our World in the 1980s and 90s. He has published five novels with Fallen Bros Press: Eddie’s Desert Rose (2011), Tio Jorge (2012), and Down in Cuba (2013), Deluge (2016) and Four Calling Burds (2019).

Tio Jorge received a Rainbow Award in the category of Bisexual Fiction in 2012.Down in Cuba received two Rainbow Awards in 2013. Deluge won a Rainbow Award in 2016. His sixth novel The Mayor of Oak Street was released in 2021 with NineStar Press and a book of his short stories in 2021. Three more novels have been published with Spectrum Books, First Born Sons (2023), Colton’s Terrible Wonderful year (2023) and The Long Journey to You (2024). His stories have been published in several collections, including WITH: New Gay Fiction, and other collections. He lives in San Leandro, California and Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.

Author Website: https://www.vincentmeis.com

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

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/vincenttraughbermeis

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

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5755735.Vincent_Meis

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/~/e/B00J7YZQU4

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Check out the new release “Resurrecting My Magic“ by Timoteo Tong (tour and excerpt from Other Worlds Ink Tours)

Resurrecting My Magic - Timoteo Tong Magicals Alliance

Timoteo Tong has a new MM paranormal fantasy romance out, Magicals Alliance book two: Resurrecting My Magic.

Book one, “Magic, Monsters and Me” is available for just 99¢ January 6th-12th!

In the thrilling sequel to “Magic, Monsters and Me,” Elijah Delomary forges new abilities with new mentors, seeks to reunify with Austin, and faces the terrible truth behind losing his powers. As war rages between Devlina and Zid’dra, Elijah and his family are drawn into the conflict.

Zid’dra grows stronger and brings Elijah to the precipice of destruction. Faced with a terrifying revelation, Elijah is pushed to protect his family, Austin, and the very fabric of existence. The weight of these challenges tests Elijah’s strength, forcing him to confront the darkest forces while proving the unwavering strength of his love to Austin.

As the evil plan comes to light, Elijah forges new abilities with new mentors, seeks to reunify with Austin, and faces the terrible truth behind losing his powers. As war rages between Devlina and Zid’dra, Elijah and his family are drawn into the conflict. Zid’dra grows stronger and brings Elijah to the precipice of destruction. Will he survive? Can he trust himself to do the right thing? Will he believe that love can conquer darkness and save the world?

Warnings: homophobia, racism, bullying, fat phobia, LGBT slurs, fade to black sex

About the Series:

The Magicals’ Alliance series revolves around the influential Delomary family, known for their massive corporation, philanthropy, and charity work. But unbeknownst to the public, they’re also the secret defenders against dark forces, facing off against monsters like Vampires and Werewolves in an age-old battle between good and evil. “Magic, Monsters and Me” is the thrilling first installment in this epic saga. Join them in their mission to protect humanity from perilous extinction.

Universal Buy Link

Get Book One Now For Just 99¢

Giveaway

Timoteo is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:

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Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47322/

Excerpt

Resurrecting My Magic banner

“One night, I sat in the window seat in my room, watching the rain falling outside my window, when I heard a cry for help.

“Someone help me!”

I glanced at the clock: 3:00 AM. I padded to the door, peering outside to the long hallway stretching from Aunt Christine’s suite on one end to Mom’s on the other. The darkness was punctuated every few feet from the dim chandeliers overhead. Silence. The house and everyone in it were asleep except me. I returned to the window.

“Help!” a voice shouted, weaker this time.

“Shit,” I complained. I returned to my room, walked over to the closet, then jammed my feet in my running shoes and headed downstairs. I grabbed my raincoat from the front hall closet and stepped outside.

Where was security? They usually patrolled the grounds at night. Maybe there was a shift change. Rain thundered down on the roof of the veranda and on the brick walkway winding down the front lawn to the main gates. I stepped onto the stairs and into the rain. I hurried to the wrought iron fence separating our property from the street. I paused, noticing a strange pink light illuminating the jacaranda trees lining the street. I turned to see where it was coming from. I gasped. The house glowed with a fluorescent pink light from the runes Mom had recently cast over the house in the Jotomoarlo Sangrancto. The ancient characters appeared as if projected on the house moving up along the façade and disappearing on the mansard roof.

“Please, help little old me!” a voice called. I looked back at the house. The house was actively fighting some evil force itself. I turned and made my way to the empty street. A half block away, I spotted a figure, shrouded in shadows between the streetlights, waving to me.

“Help! Monsters!”

“I can help you!” I called, patting my pajama pockets for my PlasmX. Puxhàredo! I left it on the dresser in my closet. I stretched out my arm and raised my hand on the off chance my PlasmX would levitate out of my room and into my hands. Nothing happened. Crap. Máurso had drilled it in my head to never be without my PlasmX. And I had forgotten that rule already. I grumbled. Okay, I would just use my fists and body to battle any monster. My Xem Sen Ou improved every week. I was a walking weapon, I told myself.

I closed in on the figure.

“Come and help me.”

The stench of ashes and sulfur wafted into my nose. I gagged. Okay, a chain smoker needed my help. Mom had drilled it into my head to never smoke.

“You want yellow teeth? Wrinkles when you’re eighteen? Smell like cigarettes?”

“No?”

“Good, don’t smoke, ever!”

I could do this. I paused in front of a shadowy figure.

“Elijah Delomary, Bane of the Gloom, here to help..uh..ma’am, sir, they?”

The figure reached up to their hood with their hands, only the skin was blistered and black and oozing. My eyes widened, seeing rotting flesh on their arms. I stopped in my tracks. I began to back away.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you remember me?” A raspy voice called as the hood fell off the head of the figure. The face of an old woman with wrinkled skin and washed-out blue eyes peered at me. Fungus crusted half the woman’s face.

“Come here, honey. It’s me, your great-great aunt Mady!”

I turned and began to run. That couldn’t be Aunt Mady. She had died when I was eight years old at the ripe old age of 102. My foot hit a rut in the sidewalk, sending me tumbling forward. I crashed onto the lawn of my friend Letitia’s house. I sprawled on my back, rain beating down on my face. My heart lodged in my throat. I wanted to cry out for help. I wanted to run, but for some reason, every muscle in my body was paralyzed. I heard the sound of Aunt Mady’s walker clacking on the sidewalk.

“Come and give me a hug, honey!”

I closed my eyes. I should have woken Barn, called Sunny. Security. No, I— Stop, Elijah. You didn’t know any better. You meant well. The path to hell is lined with good intentions. No, stop. Stop. Stop beating yourself up.

The clacking stopped. Aunt Mady, or whoever she was, stood over me. I was helpless. Thunder rumbled. Our twelfth atmospheric river of the rainy season. The vernal equinox passed weeks ago. Springtime. It never rained this much in Southern California. Something was wrong, someone was trying to drown the land of milk and honey. Drown La La Land and wash California into the sea.

Wheezing filled the air. I pressed my eyes closed as a hand reached for me. A vision bloomed in my head. Two pinpoints of red light that grew and grew and grew filled my mind.

“You proved yourself quite capable,” the voice said. “I was hoping you’d run yourself ragged, trying to prove to yourself you’re not some piece of crap like your father. I hoped to watch you collapse and die. You didn’t. Then I was sure you would give up. You surprised me. So now I am here to destroy you, so Devlina is weakened, and I can grow stronger!”

Author Bio

Timoteo Tong

Timoteo Tong’s imagination has always run wild, growing up in Burbank, CA, dreaming of battling vampires, werewolves, and witches in a Victorian mansion. Inspired by literary giants like L. Frank Baum, CS Lewis, and JRR Tolkien, he wrote his first book at eight, featuring his stuffed cocker spaniel marrying a playful duck. Now living in San Francisco with his husband, Timoteo surrounds himself with plants and books, enjoying cheese pizza, donuts, and long naps. He balances his creative pursuits with a healthy lifestyle, working out regularly. Timoteo dreams of flying one day and aims to enchant readers with his storytelling, just as his favorite authors did for him.

Author Website: https://www.magicalsalliance.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/timoteo.tong

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

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/34837913.Timoteo_Tong

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Timoteo-Tong/author/B0C7JVD1H7

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Check out this new release “Once Upon A Goth Dog Solstice“ by R.L. Merrill (tour and excerpt)

Once Upon A Goth Dog Solstice - R.L. Merrill

R.L. Merrill has a new MM romance out (gay, bisexual/genderqueer), part of the multi-author Once Upon A Holiday series: Once Upon A Goth Dog Solstice. And there’s a giveaway!

From the author of the award-winning novel You Can Do Magic: Carnival of Mysteries and Publishers Weekly’s BookLife quarterfinalist Earthquake Ethan comes a heartwarming holiday tale of found family and sacrifice. Two wildly opposite veterans connect over a shared love of art, rescue dogs, and a very special foster child.

Doug Cross spent the first half of his life attempting to appease his career-military father. After a stint in the Air Force and a successful career in cybersecurity, he’s traveled the world in search of fulfillment. He believes he’s found it in the San Francisco Bay Area with a room on an urban farm, a new spot in a goth punk band, and the support of his extended family. He’s always been a helper by nature, so when he learns that his housemate’s dog rescue is in trouble, he creates goth-influenced dog accessories to sell at the Treasure Island Arts and Crafts Fair in hopes of raising much-needed funds for the pups. He also lends a helping hand to his neighbor at the fair, and the two have a potential meet-cute…that quickly fizzles, leaving Doug wondering why his charming personality failed to make a new friend.

Luther Sorenson is a disabled Marine veteran who is struggling to keep his family afloat—and himself literally on his feet. His sister convinces him to sell his wood paintings at the fair as a way to supplement his income. He’s a single foster dad to eight-year-old Mila and is desperate to give her everything she deserves. His body doesn’t always cooperate, however, and having to ask for help from the goth guy next door at the art market could have potentially been humiliating. But Doug makes it easy, and Luther can’t stop thinking about him in between markets. Doug seems like the kind of person Luther could add to his support network. Not to mention, his superb makeup skills and the way he rocks a utilikilt have Luther smitten in no time.

A brunch “business meeting” turns into adult summer camp, and Doug and Luther embark on a tentative courtship while navigating the challenges of parenthood and owning a small business. But as the seasons change, the two men find in each other what they’ve always desired: love, family, and acceptance. On the night of the winter solstice, will they choose to combine forces and step into the unknown together?

Once Upon A Goth Dog Solstice is a part of the multi-author series Once Upon a Holiday Story. Each book can be read as a standalone and in any order. What links these books together is The Hook’s Book Nook Traveling Library, a library on wheels owned by two old ladies in love.

About the Series:

Once Upon A Goth Dog Solstice is a part of the multi-author series Once Upon a Holiday Story. Each book can be read as a standalone and in any order. What links these books together is The Hook’s Book Nook Traveling Library, a library on wheels owned by two old ladies in love.

Universal Buy Link

Giveaway

R.L. is giving away a $25 Amazon gift card with this tour:

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Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47321/

Excerpt

Once Upon A Goth Dog Solstice meme - R.L. Merrill

“I had a bad dream.”

Eight-year-old Mila Saavedra stood in the doorway of Luther’s room with a stuffed dinosaur hanging limply from one hand. Her other hand was pressed against her stomach.

Luther turned over and sat on his yoga mat with his arm out, gesturing for her to come closer. The brief seconds she hesitated to move toward the mat gutted him. Once she settled on a course of action, she approached him, not front on but coming around the mat to stand nearer his side.

“What happened in your dream?”

Mila sat cross-legged and folded her hands in her lap with Terry D’actyl against her body. It was still tough to get her to make eye contact, but Luther knew better than to push that issue. It hadn’t worked with him as a young man, and he was determined not to make the same mistakes as the foster parents he’d lived with.

“I went to school and no one was there to greet us. I went to my classroom and no one was there. No one came to take us to lunch. I sat at my desk all day, and no one came. And at the end of the day…” She ducked her head, and Luther heard the shaky breath she took in.

“At the end of the day, I come to get you.”

She shook her head.

Luther let out a breath. As much as he hated to revisit his past, Mila’s social worker, Miss Vanessa, told him from the start that building rapport with his foster daughter would likely require him to find ways to connect with her around their shared experiences.

The whole reason he’d become a foster parent was to help other kids avoid having those kinds of shared experiences.

“I used to have dreams like that, too.”

She lifted her head long enough to look at him from under her thick bangs, and then she looked at his feet. “What did you do?”

Luther definitely didn’t want to get into all of the negative ways he’d coped as a kid. That was in the past. But he could tell her about the ways he coped with life now.

“When I have bad dreams now, I exercise, or I go work in my studio. Those are things that make me feel better.” He let out a breath and thought how much he wished he could spend the day with Mila, but he’d signed on to work the art market on Treasure Island one weekend a month, and today was his first day. He’d gone over and parked his trailer in his spot the previous night, so he could scope the place out. He’d been a little nervous about registering to become a vendor, but once he’d stepped out of his truck and breathed in the San Francisco Bay breeze, he’d allowed himself the briefest moment of peace. The view of the San Francisco Bay at sunset was breathtaking, the weather was forecast to be mild, and he’d finally have a chance to see what—if any—kind of money he could make selling his wood paintings.

It had been his sister’s idea for him to try selling the art he usually reserved as gifts for his closest friends. Violet helped him research vendor opportunities, got him registered for this one, and helped him get everything set up to run a business. She volunteered to stay with Mila on the days he’d be at the fair. If he hadn’t already known how incredible his sister was, well…now he knew she was an absolute gift.

“I like to fix things,” Mila said quietly. She reached over and tentatively touched a tiny hole in the hem of his sweatpants. “My tummy feels better when things are all right.”

Luther’s own stomach clenched at her words. “Mine does, too. What do you think would make things all right this morning?”

She glanced at him under her bangs. “I wish I could sew,” she nearly whispered. “I could fix your pants.”

Luther wanted to reach out and take her hand, but Miss Vanessa had suggested he wait for her to engage with him when she was ready. She’d been with him for six months now, and they’d made huge progress, but he was determined to do everything right so she could have a chance to heal. He wanted to make things safe for her, give her a place to find herself.

“These old things?” He tugged at the cuff and showed her the inside. She gasped at the barely attached threads. “Don’t you worry about these. I’ve had them since before I was in the Marines.” There was a hitch in his voice as he mentioned his previous calling. He cleared his throat. “If you tried to sew these holes, the material would likely disintegrate in your fingers. Auntie Violet will be up soon. She’s an expert at sewing.”

That got him a timid smile. “Would she teach me?”

“I’m sure she will. She taught me.”

Her eyes bugged out. “You know how to sew?”

Luther let out an exaggerated sigh. “Marines know everything, remember?”

She groaned and squeezed Terry tight. Then she turned him around and pointed to a seam on the critter’s back that was barely hanging on. “Do you think I can fix this?”

Poor Terry had been through it. Luther had gently tried to replace him, but every morning he’d find Mila’s arms wrapped around the beat-up pterodactyl. He was the only toy she’d been able to bring with her when Miss Vanessa took her from her unsafe situation, and Luther knew the two of them had seen some shit together.

“I do. Now,” Luther said, looking at where she still had a hand on her stomach. “What can we do to fix your tummy?”

She tilted her head as though it was a difficult decision, but Luther knew her answer.

“Pancakes?”

“As if it would be anything else. Come on,” he said, knowing that cutting his exercise time short would bite him in the ass later, but he was determined to give the world to this little girl, no matter the price he paid.

He managed to push himself up off the floor without cursing and he took it slow as he straightened his back, stretching his arms above his head.

Author Bio

R.L. Merrill

R.L. Merrill loves creating compelling stories that will stay with readers long after. Ro writes inclusive contemporary romance, paranormal, and horror-inspired music reviews. A mom, wife, daughter, former educator, and advocate for social and reproductive justice, you can currently find cruising in her Bronco with Great Dane pup Velma, being terrorized by feline twins Dracula and Frankenstein, or headbanging at a rock show near her home in the San Francisco Bay Area! Stay Tuned for more…

Author Website: https://www.rlmerrillauthor.com

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

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/rlmerrillauthor

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

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/rlmerrillauthor

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/R.L.-Merrill/author/B00PI6Q1LI

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Check Out the Book Blast with Excerpt for Body Parts And Mind Games by Jude Tresswell

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Body Parts and Mind Games (County Durham Quad Book 4)

Publisher: Self published 

Release Date: November 4, 2019

Genre/s: Crime, LGBTQ

Trope/s: Sexual/asexual relationship; polyamorous relationship

Themes: Navigating ace/non-ace relationship; loyalty

Heat Rating: 2 flames

Length: 60 000 words/ 228 pages

It can be read alone, although it is 4th in the County Durham Quad series. Background information is provided for new readers.

Add on Goodreads

 

A crime to solve, a lover to save, and an ace-happy ending?

Blurb 

Organ trafficking, types of attraction and far-right nationalism are ingredients in this tale about Mike, Ross, Raith and Phil, a gay polyamorous quad who live in North-East England.

Phil is a surgeon in Warbridge Hospital. A patient’s organs are harvested illegally. Are Phil’s colleagues involved?

Detective Nick Seabrooke returns to Warbridge to ask Phil to aid the investigation. Agreeing endangers the quad in more ways than one. How will Nick, who is asexual, react to meeting the quad again? How will they react to him?

This is the fourth story in the County Durham Quad series. Background information is included for new readers. 

 

Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |   Amazon UK

 

Excerpt 

From Chapter 2

“I hoped I’d never see him again.” Words that were being echoed three hundred miles away in London. Nick Seabrooke stood at the window of his flat and stared across rooftops to the dome of St Paul’s. He re-read Phil’s message. It was terse and to the point: Considered what you said. Will do it. Feel free to set a meeting up. Was it the answer he’d wanted? Yes, from one point of view. No, definitely not, from another. 

He’d hardly believed what he’d heard the previous Monday. Nick was a detective with the NCA, the agency responsible for criminal investigations that went beyond national borders. Money-laundering involving forgery was his normal remit. He’d met the quad when Raith had been chief suspect in a case and he had been a sergeant. Now he was an inspector. So, he’d answered the chief superintendent’s call, expecting to be briefed about a fraud or a forgery. Instead, he was told about organ trafficking. But although trade in body parts was a crime that cut across borders, it seemed well outside his area of expertise. He’d tried to tell the chief so. Yes, the chief knew that, but whoever had requested Nick’s involvement knew that he had liaised, successfully, with Tees, Tyne and Wear Constabulary the year before and, more importantly, knew that he’d worked closely with a surgeon at the hospital at the centre of the enquiry.

“This doctor, Philip Roberts,” the chief had said, “would he be involved in something like this?”

“I very much doubt it, sir,” Nick had answered promptly. “I think he’d feel that it was beneath his ability and beneath his dignity. He’s totally focused on his own niche. He developed this graphene-based colorectal repair procedure almost single-handedly. He pioneered the research. He carries out most of the ops. I can’t see him whipping out a kidney or cornea when no one’s looking. And he’s conscientious. The ethics would bother him.”

“Money?”

“More than he needs and, I’d say, not particularly materialistic.”

“Then contact him,” he’d been told. “See if he’ll work with you on this. We need a medic inside that hospital. Eyes and ears and a way for you to get in and use yours. You stayed at his house, didn’t you, when you were up there last year?”

“No, sir. I stayed with one of the artisans. In Tunhead though. All the houses are owned by Roberts and the men he lives with. They rent them out to arts and crafts personnel. They call the venture BOTWAC—the Beck on the Wear Arts Centre.”

“BOTWAC?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting sense of humour. Well, see if you can stay there again. It’ll give you some safe opportunities to talk with this doctor without being overheard, and he can teach you all you need to know about proctology.”

Nick knew the meaning of ‘proctology’, but he was focusing on ‘safe’. Safe for whom? The chief misinterpreted his concerned look and his silence, and began to explain proctology.

“Yes, I know, sir,” he said, interrupting, and then he’d been politely dismissed, and tomorrow he’d have to phone Phil. Shit! 

So that was what he’d done—phoned Phil, and now he had Phil’s answer. 

He closed Messages and, almost reluctantly, opened Gallery. Should he scroll to it—the photo that he’d taken in Raith’s studio that last time he had met the quad? The photo of a portrait of Mike. He hadn’t looked at it for months. …………

…………..  Mike had fascinated him, but he realised that he’d rarely even thought of County Durham, or Tunhead—or Mike—for weeks. He was over his crush or whatever it was. So it hadn’t been love. Couldn’t have been love. So, really, he should be able to bin the photo. It shouldn’t be a problem, should it? There was no good reason to keep it, was there? But, although he could resist opening the file, he couldn’t bring himself to press Delete. Couldn’t bring himself to execute that oh-so-final break-with-everything action. So, what did his reluctance, his cowardice, mean? Well, soon he’d have more than a photo in front of him. He’d have flesh and blood. It wouldn’t be so easy to avoid looking at the real thing. He wouldn’t be able to press a key and—abracadabra—delete Mike.

He was probably needlessly worrying. Professional concerns would dominate and there wouldn’t be time to give ex-inspector Michael Angells more than a quick hello and a passing thought. And, being the sensible man that he was, Nick picked up the folder marked Warbridge and re-read the chief’s background information.

 

About the Author 

I’m married, I’ve grown-up children, I’m asexual (although a different sort of ace from Nick) and I do enjoy writing stories that aren’t constrained by hetero-norms.

The plots are always stimulated by something on the news – in this instance, reading that, in 2020, organ donation will become the default position where I live and, also, reading that enforced organ harvesting is carried out in some countries. I enjoy writing funny dialogue as well as dealing with serious issues, though, and I hope that some of the quad’s interchanges will make readers smile. And regarding the extract, I didn’t know the meaning of ‘proctology’ when I saw the word in a review of Book 3! (The term ‘colorectal’ is more common in the UK.) I couldn’t resist including a reference to it.

 

Author Links

Blog/Website  |   Amazon Author Page for all works

YouTube link to audio version of the short asexual/ sexual story Scar Ghyll Levels – available on Amazon Kindle.

(Audio version contains 200 photos of scenery)

https://youtu.be/M6xSuQ9utWg

 

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

 

 

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99c Book Blast – Double Dare (The Dare Menage Series #1) by Jeanne St. James (excerpt)

99c BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Double Dare (The Dare Menage Series, bk 1)

Author: Jeanne St. James

Publisher: Self

Cover Artist: April Martinez

Release Date: March 25 2010

Genre/s: Contemporary Erotic Romance (Interracial, MMF, LGBTQ)

Length: 67,500 words/260 pages

It can be read as a standalone but is the first book in a series.

Add on Goodreads  

Buy Link – Double Dare is only 99c for a limited time

UNIVERSAL AMAZON LINK  

Blurb

What could be better than waking up next to a hot guy? Waking up sandwiched between two of them.

Quinn Preston, a financial analyst, is not happy when her friends dare her to pick up a handsome stranger at a wedding reception. What better reason to give up men when her previous long-term relationship had not only been lackluster in the bedroom but he had cheated?

Logan Reed, a successful business owner, can’t believe that he’s attracted to the woman in the ugly, Pepto-Bismol pink bridesmaid dress. And to boot, she’s more than tipsy. After turning down her invitation for a one-night stand, he finds her in the parking lot too impaired to drive. He rescues her and takes her home. His home.

The next morning Quinn’s conservative life turns on its ear when Logan introduces her to pleasures she never even considered before. And to make things more complicated, Logan already has a lover.

Tyson White, ex-pro football player, is completely in love with Logan. He has mixed emotions when Logan brings home Quinn. But the dares keep coming…

Note: This book in the series can be read as stand-alone. It includes an HEA ending. It is intended for audiences over 18 years of age since it includes MMF scenes between all three characters.

Excerpt

When Logan glanced up again, he saw a pink vision stalking toward him, and he sat up straighter. Shit, the cause of his earlier hard-on was coming his way.

She looked determined, and she still had a grip around her glass like it was a lifeline.

She stopped directly in front of him and put one hand on her hip.

“Are you Logan Reed?”

Oh shit. “Yes?”

“You don’t know for sure?”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

“Are you fucking anybody right now?”

“Right this minute?” He glanced around to see if anyone else was hearing this surreal conversation. Luckily no one was paying attention.

“No. Do you have anyone who is going to get mad if I ask you to dance?”

“Uh. No.” Well, hell, that was a unique way of asking someone to dance.

She placed her drink on the table, and he asked, “Is that still your second one?”

“No, third.”

“I was afraid of that.”

She grabbed his hand and pulled, but he was too heavy for her to lift, so he unfolded himself from the chair to accommodate her.

“Are you asking me to dance?”

“You have a problem with that?”

“Not at all.” He interlaced his fingers with hers and led her to a corner of the dance floor. Luckily for him, the DJ had turned the lights down and was playing a series of slow tunes. Ones he could dance to. There was no way he was doing the chicken dance or line dancing. He had his limits.

As the slow, wailing tune blared through the large speakers, Logan slid his palms around her waist, his splayed fingers coming to rest at the small of her back. The fabric of her dress felt terrible, and he didn’t know why women wore shit like that and suffered. The dress certainly wasn’t flattering.

But it wasn’t the outer package that mattered to Logan; it was the prize he found inside when it was unwrapped.

He stepped in a little closer and pulled her hips against his. He swore he heard a little gasp. He smiled into her overstyled, dark blonde hair and nuzzled it. Underneath all the hairspray, he caught a scent of wildflowers. It smelled nice.

“What’s your name?” he murmured into her hair.

“What?” She turned her head a bit, and she ended up nuzzling his neck. Her lips, the shape of which reminded him of an archer’s bow, were warm and soft, and he could detect the fruity scent of the slammers on her breath.

She was average height for a woman, which made her a bit shorter than him, so he had to lean down a bit to place his lips against her ear.

“What’s your name?”

He felt the shiver of her body against him, so he traced the delicate shell of her ear with the tip of his tongue. The touch was light enough, but she unmistakably felt it. In response, she arched her back slightly, pressing her hips harder into his.

“Quinn,” she finally answered him, her voice breathless.

“Quinn,” he repeated while moving one hand up her back to the bare skin rising out of her dress. He drew the pad of his thumb along the smooth expanse of flesh, along her exposed spine, moving up to her neck to cradle it in his palm. His thumb continued to stroke her skin along the vein in her neck.

He pulled away a little and looked down into her face. Her eyes were heavy, and her lips were parted. Her breaths were short and quick.

He struggled to keep from thrusting against her. If she looked this good in that god-awful dress, he wondered what she looked like in normal clothes. Or no clothes at all.

Or just a pair of handcuffs.

His balls tightened, and he released a long breath out of his nose to steady his pulse.

“Quinn, do you like sex?” He placed his cheek against hers, and they swayed to the music, their hips, their thighs brushing against each other.

Her eyelids fluttered a bit before she answered, “Sometimes.”

“Why only sometimes?” he whispered against her ear.

She shrugged slightly, and one of her off-the-shoulder sleeves slid down a bit, exposing more creamy flesh.

Logan brushed his lips along her collarbone. It was delicate and covered with smooth skin. When he got to her shoulder, he worked his way back, and in the hollow of her neck, he placed a kiss.

There was a groan. He didn’t know whom it came from. Her? Him? He didn’t care. His hand at the small of her back slipped lower, to just where the rise of her ass was. The fabric of the dress kept him from feeling details, but his imagination took over.

One song transitioned into another, and they weren’t even aware of the other couples dancing nearby.

His hips kept a steady side-to-side rhythm, while his hand on her back kept her close and in perfect time with him.

He was hard. There was no doubt she could feel it. Even with the yards of fabric around her midsection, her belly brushed against his length, teasing his cock.

“What kind of sex do you like?” His voice sounded low and gruff to his own ears.

“The kind when I get to come.”

Logan chuckled against her temple and slipped the hand he had around her neck to her shoulder. His fingers brushed her skin lightly. He couldn’t help but notice goose bumps suddenly appearing everywhere he touched her. Which meant her nipples were probably hard and aching for his fingers and mouth.

Her dress had slipped down a bit, and the neckline rode low on her chest. The fabric rested just on the crest of her breasts; he could see she wasn’t wearing a bra. In fact, he thought he could see the crescent edge of one nipple, even in the dim light.

He wanted to dip his tongue between her breasts.

“Quinn?”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you ask me to dance?”

“Because my friends…” Her soft voice faded off.

“Your friends?” He prodded.

“My friends dared me to. They think I am such a loser when it comes to men.”

“Ah.”

“I always pick Mr. Wrong.”

“Am I supposed to be Mr. Right?” He brushed the backs of his knuckles over the rise of her breasts.

“No. Just Mr. Right Now.”

She was direct. He wondered if it was just the alcohol talking. “So you just want to use me.”

“Basically.”

Her boldness wavered, disappointing him a bit.

He raised his eyebrows. “Huh. And you don’t think I’d care?” He leaned back a bit and looked down at her, her skin a canvas for the colorful light bouncing off the mirrored disco ball above the dance floor.

She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Do you?”

About the Author

JEANNE ST. JAMES is a USA Today bestselling romance author who loves an alpha male (or two). She was only thirteen when she started writing. Her first paid published piece was an erotic story in Playgirl magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages. Want to read a sample of her work? Download a sampler book here: BookHip.com/MTQQKK

To keep up with her busy release schedule check her website or sign up for her newsletter

Author Links

Website

Blog

Facebook

Instagram

Twitter

Amazon Author Page

Goodreads

Newsletter

Review & Book Crew

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Release Blitz for His Convenient Husband by Robin Covington (excerpt and giveaway)

Title:  His Convenient Husband

Series: Love and Sports, Book One

Author: Robin Covington

Publisher:  Entangled Publishing

Release Date: October 9, 2017

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 50,000

Genre: Romance, marriage of convenience, interracial romance, sports romance, LGBTQ

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

NFL football player Isaiah Blackwell lost his husband three years ago and is raising their teen son alone. He lives his life as quietly as his job allows, playing ball to support his family but trying not to draw unwanted attention. His quiet life is shaken up when a mutual friend introduces him to Victor, a visiting principal ballet dancer who is everything Isaiah is not.

Brash and loud, Victor Aleksandrov has applied for political asylum to avoid returning to Russia, where gay men are targeted and persecuted. He’s been outspoken about gay rights in his home country, and if he doesn’t get asylum, going back to Russia is a death sentence.

Their one-night stand turns into a tentative friendship, a relationship they both agree is temporary…until Victor’s denied asylum. Isaiah can’t offer Victor a happily ever after, but he can propose something that’ll keep Victor in the US and safe. . .marriage He just doesn’t expect his new husband to dance away with his heart.

Excerpt

Victor didn’t even think. If he had thought about it, he would have talked himself out of it, but his body took over, and before he knew it he’d pulled Isaiah into his arms. Nothing sexual, nothing calculated, just an embrace for a man who’d lost something precious and who’d carried the weight of his grief, and the grief of his son, on his shoulders.

Isaiah didn’t fight him, just melted against him, his large arms wrapping around Victor’s body as he allowed the moment to spool out naturally. Victor slowly released the breath he was holding, afraid that any sudden movement would spook Isaiah back into his previous arm’s length regimentation.

The house was quiet, soft music drifting out from the docking station, Evan’s muffled footfalls overhead as he undoubtedly chattered away with his best friend. He curbed his desire to make this more than it was, ignoring the voice in his head that whispered that this was what he always thought having a family would be like. A warm, safe home, children, and a man who loved him, and building a life together.

This wasn’t it, but it was as close to perfect as he was likely to get, so he’d take it. For as long as he could have it. They’d never discussed an end, but the natural end date was when he gained his citizenship. So, three years. Not long, but he’d take it, because Isaiah was quickly getting to him, taking up residence in the part of his heart he’d never thought would be filled.

Pathetic? He didn’t care. Victor was a romantic, something he had in common with Stephen. And look how Stephen had fallen. Victor didn’t have a chance.

The music switched, shifting down into a slower rhythm, not a Latin beat by any measure, but sultry. They began to move together. Victor didn’t make a conscious decision to dance, but it was the language that came most easily to him, and he responded to the natural sway of the embrace.

Isaiah followed his lead, the shuffle of their feet falling easily into a modified variation of the bachata. Limbs pressed against each other, muscles flexing as they moved slowly, finding their own pace. Victor sucked in a breath when Isaiah’s hands ran across the bare skin of his back, callouses dragging and igniting sparks of arousal in their wake. He made a sound, low but audible, and somewhere between a gasp and a moan, prompting his husband to pull back, eyes locked on his own.

Victor was relieved when he didn’t end the exquisite torture, but instead continued to maintain eye contact as they swayed together in the honey-glazed light of the kitchen. He was hard, sure that Isaiah could feel it through the thin material of his sweatpants, because he felt Isaiah’s erection through his dress pants. They shifted against each other, cocks aligning in a way that made the most of the lazy friction, sending ripples of pleasure over his skin and up his spine.

And then Isaiah pulled him closer, and Victor buried his face in the sweet dip of his shoulder, inhaling the scent of laundry detergent, cologne, and the intoxicating smell of his man. Isaiah’s hands dipped lower on his back, fingertips skimming the waistband, the occasional slip below the edge ratcheting his heartbeat up to the point where he knew it could be felt by the man holding him.

“So beautiful.” The words coasted across Victor’s skin, barely above a whisper. “Such a temptation.”

“I’m here for the taking,” Victor replied, his fingers coasting over the nape of Isaiah’s neck just to satisfy the urge to feel skin.

The moment was cloaked in madness, which was the only explanation for his mistake, and he knew it was the last thing he should have said when Isaiah went still, his fingers unconsciously digging into Victor’s hips.

They both pulled back, slowly, stubbled cheek against stubbled cheek, until their mouths were touching. Victor licked against his husband’s soft lips, begging for entrance and diving in when he was granted admission. Spice and sweet lemon and heat were everything in this kiss, more exploration than demand as they held on to each other and gave in.

The remains of dinner were around them, but this was another kind of hunger, and he’d waited too long to have it satisfied. Victor knew how good they could be together, and while he knew they would walk the razor’s edge between emotion and pure physical indulgence, he was willing to risk it. If he fell, then he’d embrace it.

But he knew he’d be falling alone.

Purchase

Entangled Publishing | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iTunes

Meet the Author

A USAToday bestseller, Robin Covington loves to explore the theme of fooling around and falling in love in her books. Her stories burn up the sheets. . .one page at a time. When she’s not writing she’s collecting tasty man candy, indulging in a little comic book geek love, hoarding red nail polish and stalking Chris Evans.

A 2016 RITA® Award finalist, Robin’s books have won the National Reader’s Choice and Golden Leaf Awards and finaled in the Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice, and the Book Seller’s Best.

She lives in Maryland with her handsome husband, her two brilliant children (they get it from her, of course!), and her beloved furbabies, Dutch and Dixie Joan Wilder (Yes – THE Joan Wilder)

Drop her a line at robin@robincovingtonromance.com – she always writes back.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | eMail | Instagram

 

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In the Book Spotlight: Summer Love Anthology (A YA Collection from Duet, YA Interlude Press) (mini interview &giveaway)

SummerLove 400x600px COVER-Front

Summer Love Anthology – A YA Short Story Collection
Published by Duet – a YA imprint at Interlude Press
Release Date: June 23, 2015

STRW In The Spotlight Header

 

Goodreads Link
Publisher: Duet, a Young Adult imprint form Interlude Press
Cover Artist: BuckeyeGrrl Designs

Banner300x250

Sales Links:  Interlude Press – Amazon – Independent Bookstores

Our mini interview…

My Best Friend, Summer Love- HJ Coulter

Today I am very lucky to be interviewing HJ Coulter, author of My Best Friend, part of the Summer Love Collection. Hi, HJ, thank you for agreeing to this interview. Tell us about yourself, your background and your current book.

If I was to categorize myself, I guess I would say I am a geeky, classy, redneck. I grew up on the farm so I have an appreciation for wide open spaces and playing in the mud. I LOVE country music and the independent lifestyle that comes with country living. But I also the love the theatre, the sound of cellos, lace and old books. Plus I own more TV shows in DVD than should be legally allowed, dream of owning a replica of Hogwarts and my “ I Want To Believe” poster is one of my most prized possessions.

My current story, My Best Friend, is a letter from a gay young man to his best friend who has recently gotten married and is moving away. When I heard the theme Summer Love, I automatically knew that I did not want to write a romance. I wanted to capture all the other loves in people’s lives. Whether that be something as simple as a love for summer rain storms or as complicated as the love between a young man and his mentally ill father. My goal was to give emphasis to the fact that the epic love stories in your life don’t have to be romance.

What did you want to do when you grew up?

Like most people, I think my career aspirations changed as my interests grew and evolved. When I was very young, 4 or 5, I wanted to be Beethoven. Growing up with my Oma and Opa gave me a very early love for classical music and Beethoven’s 9th was my all-time favourite. I even sat down at the piano one day and played the melody to Ode to Joy by ear. This is what sparked my deep love for music. And like all first loves, music will always be a part of my life.

When I was an adolescent I was obsessed with cop dramas. I was known around school as the “ CSI girl”. I wanted to be everything for a lab tech to a beat cop to forensic psychologist. I read a lot of true crime novels and biographies of serial killers. I was a little creepy, not going to lie. It’s weird because most of my personal library has shifted into fiction. And I now like my procedurals with aliens or super villains. How times change.

I also remembering wanting to be a paramedic, hair dresser and English teacher. In fact when I went to post-secondary I was working towards getting my education degree. But to tell you the truth, I still don’t know what I want to do when I grow up. And I’m almost 25. Sure I have been thinking a lot lately about being a musical therapist or officially getting my papers to be a recreation facillator for older adults, but who knows? Not too long ago I didn’t think I would a published author and now look at me.

STRW Author BookSynopsis

Summer Love is the first collection of short stories published by Duet, the young adult imprint from Interlude Press. These short stories are about the emergence of young love of bonfires and beaches, of the magical in-between time when young lives step from one world to another, and about finding the courage to be who you really are, to follow your heart and live an authentic life. The contributing authors have written stories about both romantic and platonic love featuring characters who are gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, pansexual and queer/questioning. The authors also represent a spectrum of experience, identity and backgrounds.

SUMMARIES & AUTHOR BIOS

  • Beautiful Monsters
    A campaign volunteer is assigned to assist his high school’s Gay Straight Alliance for the Pride Parade, forcing him to face the students he had previously avoided, and the truth about himself.
    Author: Rachel Davidson Leigh is a writer, educator, and small town native who tells stories she wishes she could have read as a teen. Beautiful Monsters is her first published work of fiction. She lives in Wisconsin with her family and two dogs who are spoiled out of their tiny minds.
  • The Willow Weeps for Us
    Jack, the young son of a grocer, falls for a charming piano teacher at the dawn of World War II.
    Author: Suzey Ingold is a writer, linguist and coffee addict, currently based in Edinburgh, Scotland. Brought up in a household where children’s books are quoted over the dinner table, literature has always had a strong influence on her life. She enjoys travelling, scented candles and brunch.
  • The Fire Eater’s Daughter
    When a traveling carnival comes back to town, Ruth must choose between caring for her mother and a life with the beautiful and mysterious Constance, the fire eater’s daughter.
    Author: Amy Stilgenbauer is a writer and aspiring archivist currently based in southeast Michigan. She is the author of the novelette series, Season of the Witch, as well as the Young Adult novel, The Legend of League Park. When she isn’t writing, Amy enjoys all things bergamot and tries to keep her cats away from her knitting.
  • Surface Tension
    Logan just wants a summer where he can be anonymous and fit in without labels, but that all changes when he meets out-and-proud Dave at summer camp.
    Author: Ella J. Ash is a lawyer by day and an author by night. She has been a writer in online fan communities since 2006. She also enjoys dance parties with her family and cooking experimental vegetarian cuisine. She lives in Toronto with her partner, three daughters and four tropical fish.
  • My Best Friend
    In a letter to his best friend, a young gay man reminisces about their relationship.
    Author: H.J. Coulter lives in Winnepeg, Canada, where she works as a respite worker and studies music, in hopes of one day becoming a musical therapist. My Best Friend is her professional writing debut.
  • What the Heart Wants
    A young student discovers attraction and desire through her experience drawing figures in her summer art class.
    Author: Naomi Tajedler was born and raised in Paris, where art has always been a part of her life—including painting, restoring books, and working in auctions. She started writing in online fan communities in 2009.
  • The Most Handsome
    Carter, a Cape Cod boy who recently came out as transgender, meets and falls in love with a college student visiting for the summer.
    Author: S.J. Martin lives with his partner and their cranky, rotund cat in Washington D.C. He’s a barista by day and a writer by night. He makes a mean cappuccino and lives for good coffee, good books, and good company. The Most Handsome is his first published story.
  • Something Like Freedom
    A boy finds a safe space from which to imagine a new future after leaving his conservative parents’ home, thanks in part to a new friend.
    Author: Caroline Hanlin is a full time statistician, a part time stage manager, and an avid sports fan. She currently resides in Boston, where she enjoys writing during her commute. Something Like Freedom is her first published short story.
  • On the Shore
    A young woman retreats to her parents’ beach house to nurse a broken heart, but instead meets a vivacious girl who helps her find joy again.
    Author: Rachel Blackburn is a writer, musician and librarian based in central Ohio. When free from work, she enjoys cuddling with her cats, drinking tea, and baking more cupcakes than necessary. On the Shore is her professional writing debut.

Pages or Words: 276 pages

Categories: Please keep in mind that as an anthology, not all stories contain all elements listed.
Bisexual, Contemporary, Fiction, Gay Fiction, Lesbian Romance, M/M Romance, Romance, Trans*, Young Adult, Collection

STRW Spotlight Book Excerpt

Excerpt: (From Beautiful Monsters)
Beautiful Monsters
By Rachel Davidson Leigh

“Glad to see you could join the party,” Terrence deadpans, pressing a rainbow bandana into André’s hand. André grabs a second bandana out of the bag, stuffs one in each of his back pockets, and then goes in for a third.
“Cody was checking out the parade route,” André replies, in a smooth lie. “It turns out we’re still walking six blocks through absolutely nothing and then calling it a day.” Terrence laughs, and, as he turns away, André presses a handkerchief into Cody’s hand. “Use it wisely,” he whispers into Cody’s ear. “You’re one of us now.”
One of us. He’s never been part of an “us.” Cody stares down at the lines on the handkerchief and then at the two patches of color on the back of André’s jeans as he walks toward the arriving cars.
Cody expects panic, but it doesn’t come. Maybe he isn’t ready to be Gay with a capital G, but if “us” can mean being one of these idiots, then maybe he’s ready to have people of his own. As he watches the sharp sway of André’s hips, the heat rising up his neck doesn’t feel like fear. It feels like… clarity, as though the run put everything in perspective and now he can’t stop seeing André in crisp, dazzling color.
Someone presses a sign into his hand and guides him toward the parade staging area with the rest of the crew. Once again, he can’t hear himself think over the din, but it’s different now. At the meeting, and for years before that in the hallways, he felt like an invader locked out by a wall of sound, and now he’s somehow wandered inside. 

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