Geeks and Romance? Check out the Book Blitz for Moonstruck by Aleksandr Voinov and LA Witt (excerpt and giveaway)

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Title: Moonstruck

Author: Aleksandr Voinov & LA Witt

Publisher: 44 Raccoons

Release Date: 12 April 2019

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 95,000

Genre: Romance, contemporary, friends to lovers, may/December

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Synopsis

Anthony Rawson is screwed. Fans, producers, and his agent are all chomping at the bit for the next book in his wildly popular Triple Moon series, but he’s got epic writer’s block and is way behind deadline. Then he reads Axis Mundi, a fanfic novel by his online friend “SirMarrok.” It isn’t just a great story—it’s exactly what the series needs.

Samir Daoud is thrilled when “Ulfhedinn” wants to meet up after reading Axis Mundi. When Ulfhedinn turns out to be Anthony Rawson himself, Samir is starstruck. When Anthony tells him he wants to add Axis Mundi to the Triple Moon series, Samir is sure he’s being pranked. And when their online chemistry carries over—big-time—into real life, Samir is convinced it’s all too good to be true.

The problem is … it might be. The book deal, the sex, the money—everything is amazing. But fame isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, and Samir is left wondering if Anthony really loves him, or just loves his book.

Excerpt

Grimacing, he stood and went back into the kitchen to plug in his phone. While it charged, he poured himself a cup of reheated half-day-old coffee, and as he drank it, he stared at his darkened phone. Axis Mundi was amazing. No two ways about it. He wondered what SirMarrok would think if he knew who he’d sent it to. He was probably shy and socially awkward—what writer wasn’t?—and thought he was sending this book to some other Triple Moon fan. Not the author himself.

I need to know the face behind this book.

Anthony tapped his fingers on the counter beside his phone. The two of them had chatted and emailed, even flirted a bit—okay, a lot—but they’d never exchanged photos or real names. According to SirMarrok’s administrator profile, he lived in a suburb of Seattle, so just a few hours away.

Anthony opened his email and quickly wrote out a message.

SirM,

This book is fucking amazing. Would you be interested in discussing it over coffee?

Ulf

Before he could think twice, he hit Send.

Even though he reloaded the page a few times, SirMarrok didn’t respond immediately.

His stomach grumbled again, and he opened the fridge to check for edibles, but nothing appealed to him. There was one lone pomegranate in the crisper, but that didn’t count for a full meal, especially after Ryan had warned him about not eating enough protein right after training. Nobody delivered pizza out here, and he might have been able to throw something together based on the two vine tomatoes, the half jar of pesto, and the red onion he’d spotted, but what he really wanted to do was sit down and read the rest of the story, even though he should probably do his fucking job and at least go up to the office to bang his head against the half novel that was mocking him from the twenty-four inch screen.

Just then, the intercom buzzed—one long, two short. Thank God, it was Chastity. He padded to the door and opened it. She held a pile of letters and a cookie tin. “Hey, do you have time?”

Code for, “You’re not writing, are you?”

“Come on in.” He stood aside and waved her into the house. “You know you don’t have to buzz me, right?”

“I know, but God forbid I let myself in while you’re in the zone.”

“Much appreciated. Fortunately, I’m not.” He started toward the kitchen. “I was reading. Checking something in the chronology.”

“So how’s the book going?” she asked.

“It’s not really going, but I’m working on it.” He resisted checking whether SirMarrok had responded. He knew stalkers and obsessives, and he wouldn’t turn into either of those. “How’re you?”

“Jesse’s off to his grandparents, so …” She shrugged. “Kind of bored, I guess.” Between being Anthony’s bodyguard, part-time PA, and the mom of a very active eight-year-old, Chas had the patience of a Swiss glacier. Bored or not, she deserved a break.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“I have. And I brought you muffins, in case you’re interested.” She put the tin down. “Jesse didn’t manage to eat all of them, though he gave it a good try.”

“Thank you, St. Jesse, patron saint of starving artists.” He opened the tin and found one of the banana-and-chocolate ones that he loved. Beat cooking for one person while feeling guilty about not writing. “Coffee?”

“I’m too wired. I’ll make tea?”

“Sure.” He offered her the kitchen with a sweeping gesture, “Mi casa es su casa.”

She gave him an ironic glance, considering she lived on the property as part of her package (and because her last house had been torched by her crazy ex). While she went through the cupboards to assemble a teapot and hot water, Anthony demolished the muffin in a few bites, and then set up the coffee machine again.

“So, planning a long night?”

“There’s a full moon. I absolutely plan on a long night.” He had the most amazing view from the office, and he could happily spend a few hours gazing at the moon if the novel didn’t budge. The whole werewolf thing had started because some of his Army buddies had teased him about being a secret werewolf: nocturnal, “dark brooding charm,” a penchant for taking solo night hikes during full moons—all of that. And look where it had taken him.

“You getting anywhere with that book?”

Anthony groaned.

Chas laughed. “Still?”

“Still.” His eyes darted toward his phone. “Of course, then one of my fans manages to figure out exactly where the story needs to go.”

“You’re letting fans beta read for you now?”

“No, no. I told you about SirMarrok, right?”

“Sir—” Her eyes lost focus. “Oh, right. From that fan site.”

“Yeah. He finished his book. And it’s …” Anthony sighed and threw up his hands. “It’s amazing.”

“So what are you going to do? Ask him if you can use it?”

Anthony straightened. “I’m not going to take his work.”

“No, but if it’s really that good for the series …”

“I don’t know. Leanne will probably blow a gasket if she even finds out I’ve been reading fanfic, never mind wanting to incorporate some of it into the series.”

“If the alternative is waiting another year for the eighth book, she might be flexible.”

Anthony laughed dryly. “Good point. Well, I emailed him to see if he wants to meet and talk about it.” His stomach clenched. Had that been too forward? Didn’t SirMarrok like meeting people in real life? Might think—

“Oh, Anthony.” Chas snickered. “You’re so adorable when you’re flustered.”

“What?”

She rolled her eyes. “The second you mentioned meeting him, you got all tense and pink.” She gestured at her cheeks, and Anthony could suddenly feel the heat in his own.

“I’m just a little nervous. He has no idea who I am.”

Her eyebrow arched. “Is that the only reason you’re nervous? Because he’ll find out his biggest fan is Anthony Michael Rawson?”

“I …”

Chas laughed again and patted his arm. “So adorable.”

“Shut up.”

“Is that any way to talk to the woman who keeps the stalkers away at cons?”

He groaned theatrically. “Fine. Sorry. And yes, it is the only reason I’m nervous about meeting him.”

“Bullshit it is.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

She ticked the points off on her fingers. “You blush whenever you mention him. You’re clearly more nervous about meeting him than you were about being on a panel with a bunch of your literary idols at Comic-Con. You actually think I’m going to believe for a second you’re nervous about meeting another writer who’s—”

“Okay, okay, I get it. But you’re still wrong. I’m just, okay, maybe a little intimidated by this kid.”

Chas blinked. “Intimidated? Why?”

He waved a hand at his phone. “Because he can write fucking circles around me with my own goddamned characters! What the hell am I supposed to say to him, anyway? ‘You clearly know my own world better than I do, so how much do you charge to save my ass?’” He shook his head. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have emailed him. It isn’t like I can use his book, and for all I know, he completely botches the ending anyway.”

“And how likely do you think that is?”

Anthony met her gaze, then sighed. “About as likely as me finishing book eight by tomorrow morning.”

“Sounds like he might save your ass, then.” She smirked and started to speak, but he gestured sharply at her.

“Don’t even say it.”

“Say what?”

He glared, and she smothered a laugh.

“All right, I won’t say it. But has he responded to your email yet?”

“I don’t know.” He glanced at the phone again, eyeing it like it had morphed into a spider that was about to bite his hand. “I haven’t checked.”

“Well.” She nodded toward the spider-phone. “Check it.”

He hesitated, but figured there was no point in arguing with her—there never was—and picked up the phone. He refreshed his inbox, revealing several new emails. Most were notifications about posts on threads he’d been following on the fan site, but there it was:

SirMarrok.

Holding his breath, he tapped the message.

Are you serious? Coffee? That’d be great. When/where? — SM

Anthony was almost certain that if Chas hadn’t been standing there, he’d have made a very undignified sound. Only her presence and playful scrutiny saved him.

“He wants to meet.” And Anthony couldn’t help grinning like an idiot. Probably blushing again, if the heat in his cheeks was any indication.

“Aww.” Chas grinned. “So it’s a date?”

“It is not a date.”

“Why not?”

“Besides the fact that he’s probably half my age?”

She snorted. “Or maybe twice your age?”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Point being, I want to meet him because I want to talk writing. Maybe I can hook him up with Leanne, get his career going.” Unless, of course, he was already a seasoned writer who’d been impersonating a newbie to get his kicks. But no. No. SirMarrok had seemed really fucking genuine about everything. Anthony didn’t know that much about him in real life—they’d mostly talked writing and wolves and fan stuff. He’d kept his own life under wraps so he could be himself. Which was ironic. This whole fame thing locked him into behaviors and reputation and expectations.

“Anthony.” She folded her arms and arched her eyebrow. “It is okay to get involved with someone. You know, if you click.”

“And it’s okay not to get involved with people.” He sipped his coffee. “I’ve done just fine this long.”

Chas studied him. “You get lonely sometimes.”

He shrugged. “Happily married people feel crowded sometimes. Doesn’t mean they want the other person to leave. In my case, yeah, I get lonely once in a while.” Another shrug. “Doesn’t mean I want someone else in my space.” They’d had this discussion before, and the thought of going through the whole thing again exhausted him, so before she could answer, he held up his phone. “You mind if I send him a quick reply?”

She waved a hand. “Sure.”

He typed out, You’re in the Seattle area? What about Saturday, around lunch? You choose the location. He knew SirMarrok was working in IT—he sometimes referred to a “job” and a “boss.” And if they hit it off, he wanted the option of spending a few hours rather than being constrained by schedules and such. Damn that need for a day job for most writers. A talent like SirMarrok should be raking it in and choosing his own hours.

“So what’re you going to wear, Casanova?”

“Uh. I was planning to go kind of low-key.” Thank God he’d only given in to that author photo-related pressure after the publisher had agreed that it didn’t necessarily have to resemble him; some atmospheric black-and-white shoots and Photoshop had made sure he didn’t really look like the guy on the jacket. However, if SirMarrok was the überfan he appeared to be, he’d have seen Anthony at conventions, or on Tumblr and YouTube. “Won’t be fooling him I guess. Damn.”

“Ah, the burden of fame.” Chas put a hand on her heart.

“Well, I could use a little break. Head out to Seattle on Friday, watch a movie or something, and come back on Sunday? You want to come along?”

“Movie sounds great.” She opened his fridge and made a face. “I have a nice ratatouille bake at the house.”

“No competition from the lone pomegranate.”

“I thought so. And while I go get that …” She pointed at the pile of letters. “A few nice ones this time.”

“That’s because you burn the nasty ones.” He finished off his coffee. “How bad were the bad ones?”

“Mostly threats over the next book not coming out.”

“Christ, every time I read one of those I want to kill a character.”

“Yeah, yeah, Mr. George R. R. Martin, we know.” She laughed. “I’ll go get that ratatouille.”

She left the kitchen, and Anthony’s gaze went back to his phone. So that was that. In a few days, he’d meet the guy who apparently knew his own stories better than he did. And much like the unfinished book upstairs, he had no idea how this weekend was going to play out.

Purchase at Amazon

Meet the Author

Aleksandr Voinov is an emigrant German author living near London, where he works as an financial editor, writing coach, and complementary therapist. At 43 years of age, Voinov has written more than two dozen novels and published five novels with German publishers. After many years working in the horror, science fiction, cyberpunk and fantasy genres, Voinov is now primarily writing queer fiction.

Described as a “workaholic speed-writing freak” by fellow writers, a “creative writing class drill sergeant” by his writing ‘padawans’, Voinov is a self-confessed geek and has enlarged his days by 12 secret hours in return for the sacrifice of ten albino virgin pygmy hippos.

Voinov’s style has been called “dynamic to the point of breathlessness” and “disturbingly poetic” by publishers and literary agents. A recurring theme in his fiction is “the triumph of the human spirit” or an individual rising to challenge the status quo in a world gone bad.

Intellectually, he is drawn to the dark side of human nature and history. As a trained historian, he is fascinated by wars, religion and the conflict between the individual and society.

Interests at the moment include WWII, medieval siege warfare, William Marshall, the Golden Age of Piracy, and whale-hunting. These interests are subject to change from one day to the other, and Voinov single-handedly sustains two bookshops in London.

Public Contact Email: vashtan@gmail.com
Website: http://www.aleksandrvoinov.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/aleksandr.voinov.12
Twitter: https://twitter.com/vashtan
Goodreads Author Profile: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3074905.Aleksandr_Voinov
Tumblr: http://aleksandrvoinov.tumblr.com/
Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/aleksandrvoinov
Newsletter: https://us3.list-manage.com/subscribe

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Release Week Blitz for Christmas Lane (Lighthouse Bay #1) by Amy Aislin (excerpt and giveaway)

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Christmas Lane by Amy Aislin

Series: Lighthouse Bay #1

Publisher: self-published

Release Date (Print & Ebook): November 29, 2018

Length (Print & Ebook): approx. 65,000 words

Genre: m/m contemporary romance

Tropes: May/December, small town

Cover design: Jay Aheer at Simply Defined Art

All buy links or pre-order links:

Amazon: http://geni.us/XmasLane

iBooks: http://geni.us/XmasLaneApple

B&N: http://bit.ly/XmasLaneBN

Kobo: http://bit.ly/XmasLaneKobo

Synopsis:

It’s recent college graduate Zach Greenfeld’s favorite time of the year and he’s just received a temporary gig planning Lighthouse Bay’s Christmas parade. Not only does it speak to his penchant for organization, it also puts him face to face on a daily basis with his unrequited crush—Holland Stone. But his new job starts off in disaster when the most important float—Santa’s sleigh—gets damaged. 

Holland needs to win the Lighthouse Bay Christmas parade float competition in order to grow his new dollhouse-making business. The prize is an article in a major city newspaper, and nothing beats free advertising. Except, eager to help the adorable parade organizer, he volunteers to help fix Santa’s sleigh, leaving no time to work on his own float, and putting his prize at risk.

Damaged floats, snowstorms, and a last-minute parade emergency force Zach and Holland closer than ever. All they need is a little bit of Christmas magic to help them realize they belong together. 

Release Blitz Excerpt :

“Where’d this come from?”

Zach sipped his tea. “I dunno.”

The lines around Holland’s eyes were more pronounced when he squinted. “You don’t know, huh?”

Shaking his head, Zach hid a smile behind his mug.

“Hmm.” Holland brought it up to his ear and shook the package gently. “Then I guess whoever left it won’t mind if I open it.”

“I’m sure they won’t.”

Grinning, Holland tore into the snowman wrapping paper. He kept sneaking peeks at Zach, smile on his face, eyes full of life and laughter. With the color in his cheeks and the way he barely paused for breath before lifting the lid on the box and pulling out the small tube nestled inside, he looked like the grown-up version of a three-year-old on Christmas morning.

“Wood glue?” Holland said, holding up the tube.

“Maybe someone thought it might come in handy. Since you build dollhouses and all.”

Holland hummed. “Thoughtful, yet functional.” He sat next to Zach again and squeezed Zach’s thigh. “Thank you. You don’t have to keep buying me gifts.”

“I know.” Zach threaded their fingers together. “But I like the look on your face when you unwrap them.”

Holland kissed the back of Zach’s hand and Zach’s heart jumped. “Ready to head out?”

Zach was putting on his scarf when he spotted it, a flat, slim package, roughly three inches by six, wrapped in paper with tiny snowflakes on it, sitting on his desk. “What’s this?”

Holland grinned at him as he shrugged into his coat. “I dunno.”

“Really? You don’t know?” Zach slipped a nail underneath the tape. “Think whoever left it will mind if I open it?”

“I think they’d want you to.”

Zach snorted a laugh and opened his gift, revealing a pocket day planner for next year. “A calendar?”

Standing on the other side of Zach’s desk, Holland bent over to get a better look at it, forehead furrowed. Yeah, he wasn’t fooling anyone with that innocently confused expression. “Someone must know you pretty well.”

“What makes you say that?”

Holland turned his head toward the wall, where Zach had three different calendars pinned. Then he rearranged a couple of items on Zach’s desk, uncovering two separate day planners. “And I bet you have a pocket-sized one in your pocket,” he said.

Busted.

About Amy Aislin:

Amy started writing on a rainy day in fourth grade when her class was forced to stay inside for recess. Tales of adventures with her classmates quickly morphed into tales of adventures with the characters in her head. Based in the suburbs of Toronto, Amy is a marketer/fundraiser at a large environmental non-profit in Toronto by day, and a writer by night. Book enthusiast, animal lover and (very) amateur photographer, her interests are many and varied, including travelling, astronomy, ecology, and baking. She binge watches too much anime, and loves musical theater, Julie Andrews, the Backstreet Boys, and her hometown of Oakville, Ontario. 

Connect with Amy Aislin:

Website: https://amyaislin.com/ 

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/amyaislin/ 

Twitter: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/amyaislin 

Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/amyaislin

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/amy.aislin  

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/AmyAislinAuthor  

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/ddvWFv 

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Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/amy-aislin 

Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/amyaislin 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16693566.Amy_Aislin  

Amazon: http://amazon.com/author/amyaislin    

QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/amy-aislin/  

LoveRomanceReads: https://www.loveromancereads.com/amyaislin.html  

 

Giveaway: Amy is giving away a Christmas Lane prize pack, including a signed paperback of Christmas Lane, a personalized Christmas tree ornament, vanilla-flavored loose leaf tea, and a character art print.

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Blog Tour Jace’s Trial (Trials in Abingdon #1) by JM Wolf (excerpt and giveaway)

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BLOG TOUR

Book Title: Jace’s Trial (Trials in Abingdon Book One)

Author: JM Wolf

Publisher: Encompass Ink

Cover Artist: Rue Volley

Genre/s: May/December, Contemporary Romance, HEA,

Length: 87K Words/230 Pages

This is Book 1 in the series, but can be read as a standalone story.  No cliffhanger.

TRIGGER WARNING: This book contains content of physical and mental abuse, grieving, and bottled emotions.

Goodreads 

Blurb

Life is a trial full of obstacles that stand between you and your goals. Do you have the courage to face your own trial? 

Jace Garrison was a musical prodigy at Juilliard ready to take the world by storm. Everything he could ever want out of life was unfolding right before his eyes, until everything came crashing down at once. 

With his muse gone, along with everything he loved, will Jace find the courage to move on?

Former Navy SEAL Gerard Ramhart had always played by his family’s rules and traditions. Until he fell in love with Riley Garrison. Unfortunately, before Gerard had the courage to propose to the man he loved, Riley’s life was taken away. Gerard was left devastated, with only his memories of Riley and the pain of losing him to keep him going.

One year after Riley’s death, Gerard finally makes it to Riley’s hometown in Abingdon, Virginia and meets his son Jace for the very first time. Two men grieving over the loss they shared, and during their time of heartache, something blossoms. Can Gerard help Jace find the will to live the life he’s meant to have? And can Jace find his muse and accept his feelings for Gerard, despite the fact that Gerard once belonged to his father?

Buy Links – Available on KU

Amazon Universal Link: Smarturl.it/JacesTrial

Amazon US  

Amazon UK 

Excerpt

I don’t know what possessed me to do it, but I sat up on his lap, his arms falling to his sides, but he remained motionless. I stared in awe as I began trailing my fingers up his body, from his hip bones, trailing along his defined abdominal muscles, up his pectorals feeling the tuffs of chest hair tickling the skin of my fingers. I continued from his collarbone and up his neck until my palms rested on the man’s cheeks. Gerard stirred, but never woke.

I tilted my head slightly and marveled at the man that once held my father’s heart, but now was quickly beginning to worm his way into mine. I wished I knew an artist who would be able to capture Gerard’s face on paper perfectly so that I could look at it every night after his trip in Abingdon was over. I didn’t want to think of him leaving. I just wanted to revel in the stunning work of art that was Gerard Ramhart. All man, all muscle, and how I wanted him to be mine. I wasn’t afraid to admit it to myself anymore. I wanted him, so fucking bad; but would he ever be mine? Would I ever get to feel what it was like to be his? Would I ever know what it was like to have his lips on mine?

Instinctively, my thumbs began running along his dark thickly grown beard and then to his lips. I remembered that moment when he was stepping out of the shower, and we almost shared a kiss. Almost. I never stopped thinking about it, and the desire to kiss him at that moment was making my heart practically beat out of my chest.

As if my body had a mind of its own, I began leaning down, bringing myself closer to Gerard’s face. My face was inches away from his. I could feel his breath on my skin, and his full lips were close, oh so close. My heart was thundering so loud I was worried Gerard would hear it and wake up. This may have been my only chance to kiss him, and I didn’t want it to slip by. I got closer and was about to press my lips to his when Gerard’s eyes shot open.

Oh fuck, I was so screwed. I had no way to explain this. I pulled back some to looked into his startled eyes. I opened my mouth to try to say something, anything, but what the fuck could I say?

“I-I…Gerard, I’m –” my words were cut off immediately when his hand cupped the back of my head, and his free arm around my waist. Gerard pulled me down to him and embraced me in a deep soulful kiss.

I was taken aback by the sudden embrace, but not enough to pull away. When the initial shock wore off, I closed my eyes and gave back as much as Gerard was giving me. And holy fuck, was he giving me something that was literally stealing my breath away.

The kiss was not how I imagined it. I’d been kissed by many guys growing up, including Brett. I didn’t know if it would be possessive, rough and demanding like Brett’s or dull and lifeless like some of the casual flings I had to entertain my libido. I thought it would be simple but nice, like when Adam and I shared our first kiss, but it wasn’t. They all paled in comparison to the feel of Gerard’s lips on mine.

The kiss was heated, but not enough to devour me. It was filled with affection, longing, desire, wholesome. Gerard was kissing me as if he’d been waiting for centuries to do so, and now that he had me, he wanted to treasure the moment. He wanted to cherish me. I had never felt so desired by a man in all my life, and my eyes burned as if I would cry at the realization.

Was this how my father felt when he kissed Gerard? Was this how it felt to have someone kiss you like you were wanted? I couldn’t begin to comprehend how badly I wanted this moment, how much I needed it. Gerard was claiming me, and I wanted to be his.

About the Author  

JM Wolf never thought he would one day say that he’s a published M/M romance author. Having a poet for a mother and a sister who once ran a blog, it was only a matter of time before JM discovered his writing genes. In the beginning, his sole purpose in life was to be a singer/songwriter. Writing lyrics was the first step putting his thoughts onto paper. Even while singing, JM always found time to dabble with writing little short stories but never thought too much about it.

Once he reached adulthood, his music dreams left him, but not the feeling for writing down what was in his mind. However, that didn’t mean music no longer played a part in JM’s life. His debut book The Black Feather was inspired by one of his favorite songs. Whether lyrics or love stories, you will always find JM’s heart and soul in every word on paper.

JM Wolf lives in Chesapeake, VA with his husband and in-laws. When he’s not writing, you can always find him reading a good book, spending time with the love of his life, or jamming out to music. He didn’t pick the world of literature, the literary world picked him.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website

Facebook

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Twitter

Giveaway

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RELEASE BLITZ for Trust with a Chaser by Annabeth Albert (excerpt and giveaway)

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Title:  Trust with a Chaser

Series: Rainbow Cove, Book 1

Author: Annabeth Albert

Publisher:  Annabeth Albert

Release Date: 08-01-2017

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 75,000

Genre: Romance, Contemporary, Law Enforcement, Small Town, May/December

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Synopsis

One hot cop. One bar owner out for redemption. One smoking-hot summer fling destined to leave scorch marks…

Mason Hanks has returned to Rainbow Cove, Oregon with one goal in mind: turn the struggling coastal community into a thriving LGBTQ tourism destination. Step one is transforming an old bar and grill into a gay-friendly eatery. Step two? Don’t piss off Nash Flint, the very hot, very stern chief of police who’s not so sure he’s on board with Mason’s big plans.

Nash Flint just wants to keep his community safe and enjoy the occasional burger in peace. He’s not big on change nor is he a fan of Mason’s troublemaking family, especially his rowdy older brothers. But Mason slowly wins him over with fantastic cooking and the sort of friendship Nash has been starving for.

When their unlikely friendship takes a turn for the sexy, both men try to steer clear of trouble. Nash believes he’s too set in his ways for Mason, and Mason worries that his family’s reputation will ruin any future with Nash. Burning up the sheets in secret is a surefire way to crash and burn, and discovery forces a heart-wrenching decision—is love worth the risk of losing everything?

Trust with a Chaser is a 75,000 word stand-alone gay romance with a May/December theme, a hot law-enforcement hero, opposites attract, plenty of sexy times, and one hard-fought, guaranteed happy ending with no cliffhangers.

Excerpt

Chapter One

Mason

When Adam stepped inside the glorified closet I was using as an office, eyes all twitchy and hands wringing a bar towel, I knew I wasn’t going to like what came out of his mouth.

“Sheriff Sexy just walked in. He’s your problem.”

Fuck. I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath. “Please don’t call Police Chief Flint that. He might hear, and I’m pretty sure he’d find a citation for you. And I am not bailing your ass out.”

“You’re just worried that one of these days you’re going to slip up and call him that.” Adam grinned at me. This was an old argument—he’d been calling Flint that stupid nickname since we were in high school. The hard-nosed cop wasn’t one to cut teen drivers any slack—especially if they were in any way associated with the name “Hanks.” “Anyway, you know he freaks me out. I’ve got no idea what he wants—all our permits are in order, right?”

“Of course.” Standing, I grabbed the folder with the permitting paperwork. I prided myself in the organization I was bringing to the bar and grill that I co-owned with Adam and our friend, Logan. Flint wouldn’t find anything to complain about, not with me in charge. “I’ll go deal with him. You go back to the bar in case we get a rush.”

Adam snorted. Despite it being opening weekend, traffic had been embarrassingly light. We’d worked for weeks transforming the old tavern—a Rainbow Cove institution for decades—into the newly renamed Rainbow Tavern. The gay-friendly bar and grill was our vision for pulling our sleepy little coastal town into the twenty-first century. Logan had crafted a new menu of upscale bar food ready to go, and Adam had innovative drinks specials at the ready. All we needed were customers. And to not run afoul of Nash Flint on our first day of operation.

Flint was a Rainbow Cove institution himself—born and raised here, same as Adam and me, but unlike me, he’d never left, sliding into his father’s shoes as police chief and apparently fitting the role as easily as a pair of broken-in jeans. He’d been Officer Flint last time I’d seen him, almost ten years prior.

Guess I could have seen him had I come down for Freddy’s trial, something I still felt niggles of guilt over, and I told myself that was why my stomach fluttered on my way out to the tavern’s dining room. Unlike Adam, I’d never found Flint particularly…

Sexy. All my thoughts fled as I took in the man sitting in front of the plate-glass window. He dwarfed the small wooden chair, one of dozens that Adam and I had painted bright colors. Broad shoulders stretched the confines of his uniform shirt, biceps bulging under the short sleeves. His cut-glass jaw was firm as ever, as were those hard hazel eyes. But what had been frankly terrifying to my teenaged self made my twenty-seven-year-old libido sit up and take serious notice.

Flint blinked as I approached, head tilting to one side. I’d been getting a lot of that since I’d been back in town. “Mason…Hanks?”

“The one and only.” I stuck out my hand. “What can I do for you, Chief Flint?”

He returned my handshake with a sure grip, only a moment’s hesitation. I guessed he wasn’t all that used to shaking hands with a Hanks. Oh well. I was out to prove to the whole damn town that I wasn’t like my father and brothers, and if I had to start with Flint, so be it.

“Nice place you’ve got here.” His eyes swept around the renovated room—restored antique bar on the far wall where Adam wasn’t bothering to conceal his nosiness, dance floor beyond that, colorful tables and chairs in the front of the bar, only a handful occupied despite the dinner hour.

“Thanks. Our permits are all in order.” I held out my folder. “Liquor license is on top.”

He waved the folder off. “Not worried about that.”

No? Then why the heck was Flint in my establishment? “Good. We’re on the up-and-up. You won’t have trouble from us—”

“Glad to hear it,” he said levelly, eyes skeptical, reminding me that I was, after all, nothing more than a Hanks. “Cheeseburger?”

“Pardon?”

“That Ringer kid didn’t see fit to give me a menu, but I’m trusting you all offer something approximating a burger? Salad, no fries, and an iced tea.”

“You want to order?” I was still struggling to keep up with him.

“This is a food establishment, right?” He shook his head as if he hadn’t expected more from me, and that rankled.

“Of course.” I crossed the room in long strides, grabbed an order pad from the bar, ignoring Adam’s gaping. As soon as I returned to Flint’s table, I added, “Anything you want. On the house.”

“None of that.” He sighed like my very existence was tiring. “Got my meals from the old tavern for years. They kept a tab open for me.”

“We can do the same—”

“Let’s see if you can cook first,” he said, voice drier than yesterday’s toast. “I thought I’d come by, check the place out.”

“Appreciated,” I said and meant it. Business, any business, was good, but people in Rainbow Cove trusted Flint. If he gave us the seal of approval, more locals might give us a try, make us less dependent on the tourist trade that we were going after. Tourism took a while to build, and our grand plans of making Rainbow Cove an LGBTQ travel destination weren’t going to happen overnight. We needed every customer we could get, Flint included, even if he was the unlikeliest of allies.

“You still haven’t brought me a menu.” He shook his head. “But whatever you’ve got passing for a burger is fine. Nothing vegan though.”

“We’ve got local grass-fed beef, third-pound patty on a brioche bun with a pesto mayo and local gouda. Or—”

“I reckon that will do fine.” Flint always had a bit more country than coastal in his voice. Not Southern, but you could tell he was rural Oregon through and through, and I liked the slow, deep rumble of his words. What I didn’t like, however, was the implication in his tone that he wasn’t expecting much from us.

“Sure you don’t want fries? We have hand-cut sweet potato as an option with a chipotle dipping sauce. As far as salads, I’ve got side, Caesar, spring berry and pecan—”

“I’m on duty here. Kind of pressed for time. The burger and a side salad are fine. I don’t need anything fancy.”

Yeah, well, maybe I want to give it to you. I quashed that thought, same as I had the one about how hot he looked in his uniform. Wanting to impress Nash Flint wasn’t going to get me anywhere.

“I’ll put a rush on it.” I made a note on the order pad, not that it was really needed since Logan hardly had a packed house to worry about.

As I walked over to the window to put in Flint’s order, I noticed more than one table giving him curious glances. Hell, maybe I was wrong about any business being good business. Last thing I needed was Flint scaring away what few customers we had. Not that he was known as a gossip or anything like that, but he was awfully…old school. Traditional. The last kind of guy you’d expect to find at a gay bar, that was for sure, and even though we were attempting to attract a mixed clientele, he stood out.

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Meet the Author

Annabeth Albert grew up sneaking romance novels under the bed covers. Now, she devours all subgenres of romance out in the open—no flashlights required! When she’s not adding to her keeper shelf, she’s a multi-published Pacific Northwest romance writer.

Emotionally complex, sexy, and funny stories are her favorites both to read and to write. Annabeth loves finding happy endings for a variety of pairings and is a passionate gay rights supporter. In between searching out dark heroes to redeem, she works a rewarding day job and wrangles two children.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Instagram

Annabeth’s Angels Facebook Group | Annabeth’s Mailing List

 

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1 Week Tour for At Attention by Annabeth Albert (excerpt and giveaway)

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Title:  AT ATTENTION

Series: Out of Uniform, book 2 (but stands alone well–different couple for each book)

Author: Annabeth Albert

Publisher:  Carina Press

Release Date: April 10, 2017

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 73,000

Genre: Romance, Military romance, contemporary, age difference, may/december, SEALS

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Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to have Annabeth Albert here today.  Welcome, Annabeth. Tell us more about your new release!

✒︎

Thank you so much for having me today! I’m so excited to be celebrating the release of AT ATTENTION which stars a widowed navy SEAL dad and his best-friend’s little brother who’s staying with him for the summer to help with the kids. Music is a huge part of my creative process, and I knew going into this that the playlist for these two was going to be a challenge.

Apollo is dealing with a lot of grief and the pain of moving on after losing his husband, so his songs to start with were sad and slow, while Dylan is sunnier, younger, and more upbeat. I’d go from bombastic TV show soundtracks for Apollo to fun pop for Dylan and back again, trying to find the musical profile for this book.

Sam Smith was an obvious choice, but other notable additions to the playlist were revelations—lesser known artists who became intertwined with the writing of this book.  You can find the full playlist on spotify, but I wanted to talk about a few songs and why they were so key to the book.

  • James Blunt, “When I Find Love Again.” I’d never heard of James before starting this book, but when I found this song, I knew I’d found Apollo’s path forward. It’s joyous and upbeat and everything missing from Apollo’s life at the start of the book. But by the end, this song really has become the embodiment of the book’s message about being brave enough to try again.
  • Tenth Avenue North, “Worn.” This song more than any other on the playlist really encapsulated who Apollo is at the book’s opening—he’s tired of struggling, tired of being alone, but he’s not sure he believes in a different future for himself. He’s waiting for something like Dylan in his life, even if he can’t admit it yet.
  • Angus and Julia Stone, “Stay with Me.” The thing about Sam Smith being on repeat for two months is that eventually one finds their way to Sam Smith covers. And this one is particularly gorgeous, and really spoke to the black moment for me, for both men, how much they need each other.
  • Haley Reinhart, “Can’t Help Falling In Love.” I listened to a lot of covers of this song, as it was such a perfect song for Apollo who really, really does not want to fall in love with Dylan, but does anyway, but this version of the song really spoke to me with her heartbreaking delivery.
  • Rebecca Ferguson, “Nothing’s Real but Love.”  Another artist I discovered while searching sad song playlists, her voice really spoke to Apollo’s resilience and how much he needs love back in his life.
  • Kina Grannis/Gardiner Sisters, “I was Made for Loving You.” This is one of Dylan’s songs—hopeful, and full of love, but wary.
  • Jewel, “Near Me Always.” I put a little piece of myself in every book, but in this case, I gave them a song from my past, one that always makes me relive a little heartbreak to hear because I needed to channel that sadness, and a funny thing happened—over the course of listening to my playlist, this song became much less about my own past and more about Dylan and Apollo’s future.

Thank you so much for having me! If you’re curious to learn more about Dylan and Apollo’s journey, I hope you’ll check out AT ATTENTION. And if you have a good earworm for me, I love hearing of new artists and songs!

Synopsis

Lieutenant Apollo Floros can ace tactical training missions, but being a single dad to his twin daughters is more than he can handle. He needs live-in help, and he’s lucky a friend’s younger brother needs a place to stay. He’s surprised to see Dylan all grown up with a college degree…and a college athlete’s body. Apollo’s widowed heart may still be broken, but Dylan has his blood heating up.

It’s been eight years since the teenage Dylan followed Apollo around like a lovesick puppy, and it’s time he showed Lieutenant Hard-to-Please that he’s all man now—an adult who’s fully capable of choosing responsibility over lust. He can handle Apollo’s muscular sex appeal, but Apollo the caring father? Dylan can’t afford to fall for that guy. He’s determined to hold out for someone who’s able to love him back, not someone who only sees him as a kid brother.

Apollo is shocked by the intensity of his attraction to Dylan. Maybe some no-strings summer fun will bring this former SEAL back to life. But the combination of scorching desire and warm affection is more than he’d expected, and the emotion between them scares him senseless. No fling lasts forever, and Apollo will need to decide what’s more important—his past or his future—if he wants to keep Dylan in his life.

Book Two of the Out of Uniform series

This book is approximately 73,000 words

Excerpt

**This is from the first chapter**

Hamburger. Onions. Pickles. Ketchup. Buns. Buns.

Well, hello, there. Possibly the most perfect specimen Apollo had ever seen was bent over in the bakery aisle at Sprouts, looking at a rack of organic cookies. High. Tight. Round. Attached to muscular legs poking out of board shorts, the kind of legs that suggested a serious investment in a sport or fitness. He wasn’t going to do more than look, but even when he’d been with Neal, he hadn’t been blind, and it was nice to know perfection like this guy existed in the world.

It was like swimming by a perfect coral reef on a dive or the blue of a cloudless sky right before a jump—

Wink. Fuck. The guy straightened before Apollo could look away and caught Apollo staring, and instead of blushing or serving him with the angry glare he deserved, he gave Apollo a saucy wink. It was the sort of wink that a decade ago would have had Apollo crossing the shiny linoleum and getting the guy’s number, but those days were long gone.

Instead he grabbed the closest twelve pack of hamburger buns and one of hot dog buns and headed to the next aisle. Those were the only kind of buns he had any business letting himself be distracted by. He was a father for crying out loud, not some single guy out treating the natural grocery store like his own personal pickup joint. Reflexively, he rubbed his ring with the side of his pinky, making it spin on his ring finger. Yeah. No more looking.

“Apollo! How are you?” Bridget from down the street almost ran her cart into his as he navigated the aisles. Her red-haired toddler waved at him from the basket.

Hell. He knew he should have brought at least one of the girls shopping. Then Bridget could have focused on the kids, and not his least favorite question in the universe.

“Hanging in there.” Apollo gave her a practiced a smile. “Good” would be a lie and no one wanted to hear “same as yesterday,” which was closer to the truth. But what the Bridgets of the world all wanted to hear was that Apollo was moving on—like time was the magic cure for the hole in his heart. “Having some people over for a barbecue later. Apologies if anyone parks in front of your place.”

“Oh, no worries.” Bridget patted his arm. “Having friends is so important.”

“Yeah, it is,” Apollo agreed because Bridget was a nice person, but inwardly his teeth gnashed together. He was so tired of well-meaning people telling him what was good for him when not a damn one of their suggestions would bring Neal back. “I better get on with my list.”

“You do that. And be sure and let us know if you need anything.

Apollo nodded. Two years. It had been two years of neighbors and friends stopping him like this, making kind offers, but none of them able to do the one thing he wanted more than anything.

Fuck. Snap out of it, Lieutenant. No one wants your mopey ass around on this sunny May weekend. And it was an absolutely gorgeous day, perfect for playing with the girls outside and kicking back a few beers with his friends. He wasn’t on duty and had three consecutive days off for the first time in a long time. No sense dwelling on sad shit. Time to get stuff done.

Find something else to focus on.

Like that perfect ass?

No. Absolutely not that. Like…pickles. Lots and lots of pickles.

He saw Mr. Perfect Butt again in the juice aisle, and it was damn hard to keep his resolution to stick to shopping. The guy was model cute—curly hair falling just so over his forehead, sparkling eyes, chiseled jaw, and a tight T-shirt advertising a British soccer team showing off a defined chest and tight stomach. The guy smiled at him again and looked like he might want to speak, so Apollo grabbed the juice boxes for the girls and got out of there like he’d just launched a flash bang in the guy’s direction.

At the checkout, Mr. Perfect Butt was ahead of him in the only line that seemed to be moving. Apollo very carefully did not look at his butt again and busied himself grabbing some gum and trying to give off “don’t talk to me” vibes.

But those vibes seemed to be an utter failure as the guy turned, offering another movie-star-worthy grin. “You want to go first?” His voice was husky, like every word was a secret.

“I’m good,” Apollo said.

The man nodded, shy smile teasing the edges of his mouth, making his blue eyes dance. “You know—”

“ID please.” The cashier interrupted whatever flirtation the guy had planned as his six pack of beer went across the scanner.

“Oh, yeah.” A faint red flush spread up the guy’s neck. Oh hell. He wasn’t just younger than Apollo. He was a kid. A kid who still got carded, and rightfully so with that baby face. What the hell had Apollo been thinking, admiring his body?

Apollo focused on unloading his own groceries, making neat rows for the cashier, and making sure the buns wouldn’t get squished.

Buns. Nope. Not going there. The kid hung around after paying for his groceries, mouth moving as if he were debating speaking, but Apollo kept his attention squarely on the cashier.

No more looking. Remember who—what—you are now. When he finally looked up, perfect butt guy was gone, and if Apollo felt a twinge of regret for being a bit on the rude side, he squashed it quickly. Wasn’t like he’d ever see the guy again anyway.

****

What will Apollo do when he discovers that Perfect Butt guy is his best friend’s little brother? Find out in AT ATTENTION!

Purchase

Carina Press | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iTunes

Meet the Author

Annabeth Albert grew up sneaking romance novels under the bed covers. Now, she devours all subgenres of romance out in the open—no flashlights required! When she’s not adding to her keeper shelf, she’s a multi-published Pacific Northwest romance writer.

Emotionally complex, sexy, and funny stories are her favorites both to read and to write. Annabeth loves finding happy endings for a variety of pairings and is a passionate gay rights supporter. In between searching out dark heroes to redeem, she works a rewarding day job and wrangles two children.

Sign Up for Annabeth’s Newsletter!

Website | Facebook | Facebook Group | Twitter | Goodreads

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In the Spotlight: ‘Life is a Stevie Wonder Song’ by V.L. Locey (excerpt and giveaway)

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Life is a Stevie Wonder Song by V.L. Locey
Release Date: December 30, 2015

Goodreads Link
Publisher: Torquere Press
Cover Artist: Kris Norris

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Blurb

Authors know that their muse is a fickle creature. Best-selling spy novelist Stephen Ramsey has been in a hate-hate relationship with his inspiration for months. Stephen’s publisher lays a legal ultimatum upon him, with a rapidly approaching deadline, he knows he must do something to kick-start his creativity or face the unemployment line. His daughter comes up with a possible answer: a summer camp for the creative soul. With nothing to lose, Stephen packs up his laptop, phonograph and beloved record albums and heads from Manhattan to the Catskill Mountains.

There, among a horde of college students attending for extra credits, is Declan Pomeroy, a photographer of fey creatures who is twenty years younger than Stephen. The woods are a magical place, and he quickly finds himself falling under the spell of the free-spirited photographer. Confusion wars with desire inside Stephen as he succumbs to the feelings welling up inside. But, sadly, summer camp always has to end. Can a man who has just found himself really leave the person that makes his heart sing?

 

Pages or Words: 24,600 words
Categories: Contemporary, M/M Romance, Gay For You, May/December

Excerpt

Then he appeared from the tree line, a lithe, pale creature of the Finnish goddess Mielikki’s woods if ever I had seen one. Yay for that semester of world mythology back in college finally paying off. Declan wore nothing but a scrap of linen tied around his lean waist and a camera around his neck. I swallowed and stepped down off the porch, anxious to get closer to him. He waited patiently for me. As I drew closer, I could hear him humming. A smile tweaked my lips. It was Stevie Wonder’s Signed, Sealed, Delivered.

“You look like you have too much on,” Declan announced when I stood in front of him. I glanced down at my attire. Gym shorts, a T-shirt, and sneakers sans socks. “How would you feel about doing this nude?” My sight knifed back from my clothes to my guide into the Twilight Zone.

“You’re not naked,” I pointed out once I could speak around the knot of desire clogging my throat.

“I usually am, but I figured you’d be far too uptight to not have clothes on, so, I fashioned a makeshift chiton to cover my goodies.”

“Okay. Yes, I’m not comfortable with our goodies hanging out.” He glanced up at the fat moon over our heads, then sighed dramatically. “I can do no shirt and no shoes, however.”

Declan’s gaze returned to me from Madame Luna. He made a sort of cooing sound then rose to his tiny toes to press his lips to mine. It was a soft peck, our mouths touching for a mere second, but it did things to my perceptions of who Steven Ramsey is that I still cannot fully explain.

“I think I’d like to see you without a shirt,” he whispered over my lips.

“What are you doing?” I croaked. He shrugged a shoulder, then dropped back down to stand flat-footed. “Stop it, okay? I’m old enough to be your father.”

He smiled then spun around, his bare back gleaming pure white. I wanted to touch his skin, trace the knobs of his spine with my tongue. This whole thing was pure insanity, yet I hurried to strip off my old T-shirt and kick off my sneakers. Declan glanced over his shoulder, smiled again, and then rushed off into the night, the coquette. I followed because what else could I do? Not traipsing after the kid was impossible. The grass was cool and wet under my bare soles. The high whine of a mosquito zipped past my ear. I would be nothing but a massive bug bite in the morning. I walked behind Declan, swatting at the air, hoping I didn’t step on something that would require stitches or a tetanus shot. We stepped into the woods. I debated going back for my shoes.

“We have to be as silent as possible,” Declan, standing on my right, whispered.

“Shoes are quiet,” I replied, my hand resting on the scraggy bark of an old pine.

“Shoes don’t allow you to touch the earth.”

“They also don’t allow thorns to penetrate your flesh,” I parried. My guide grunted in consternation then set off once again. A million questions bounced around my head as I tenderly placed one foot down then the other. What kind of camera did he use? Was there a special ethereal film for capturing fey? Did I need therapy? Did I just step on a slug?

We walked deeper into the woods. The farther we traveled, the more I wanted to speak up or at least scoff. I was working on a good zinger when I ran into Declan’s bare back. He threw up a hand to silence me. My body tightened from a weird combination of fear and desire. The kid felt wonderful pressed against my chest, his clammy skin resting against mine. I peered over his head, my hand coming to rest on his left hip. Declan leaned back into me just the slightest bit. My cock began to swell. My eyelids drifted down as he wiggled enticingly closer still.

“Look at the hazy ring around the moon,” Declan whispered. My fingers dug into his bony hip. I opened my eyes and looked up. We were on the edge of a small glen. He lifted up his camera and snapped several images as I stared at the milky white fingers of magic tickling the moon. “Now look at the ground.” I did. There, in the center of the small glen, was a small, perfectly circular ring of mushrooms perhaps ten feet wide. “That’s known as a fairy ring.”

“Huh,” I grunted, my body trying desperately to take over the show. Declan had to feel my erection resting against his pert ass. He seemed perfectly as ease with a hard dick between his buttocks. I, on the other hand, was slowly going mad. I longed to lower my mouth to his neck and lick the sweat from his skin. I also wanted to run away screaming to the world that I was not a faggot, but was I? It certainly looked it. Declan lowered his camera and took a few shots of the white mushrooms.

“I’ve heard tales of the fey blessing those who stand in a fairy ring under a full moon. Would you like to go stand in the ring, Steven?” he asked. I nodded. He slid out of my grasp and reached back to find my hand. His fingers were thinner than mine. He pulled me into the glen. I glanced up, then back. “Are you afraid that someone will see us cuddling in the fairy ring?”

“At the moment,” I stepped carefully over several large mushrooms,” I’m afraid of everything, mostly you.”

 

Buy the book: Torquere Books

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Meet the Author

V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, belly laughs, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, two dogs, two cats, a flock of assorted domestic fowl, and three Jersey steers.

When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand. She can also be found online on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and GoodReads.

Where to find the author:


Tour Dates & Stops: December 29, 2015

Parker Williams, The Hat Party, Bayou Book Junkie, Havan Fellows, Just Love Romance, Happily Ever Chapter, Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words, BFD Book Blog, The Jena Wade, Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews, 3 Chicks After Dark, Three Books Over The Rainbow, Elisa – My Reviews and Ramblings, MM Good Book Reviews, Inked Rainbow Reads, Velvet Panic

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Giveaway

Enter to win a Rafflecopter Prize: E-copy of ‘Life is a Stevie Wonder’ song by V.L. Locey.  Link and prize provided by the author and Pride Promotions.  Must be 18 years of age or older to enter.

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In the Book Spotlight: Songbook: Paulo and Preston Shorts by Lee Benoit (excerpt and giveaway)

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 Songbook: Paulo and Preston Shorts by Lee Benoit

Release Date: May 20, 2015

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Goodreads Link:
Publisher: Torquere Press
Cover Artist: BSClay

Sales Links: Torquere Books

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Lee Benoit has collected all the Paulo and Preston stories into one volume.  Love a little kink with your romance?  Check out Songbook:  Paulo and Preston Shorts by Lee Benoit below and don’t forget to enter the contest at the end.

STRW Author BookSynopsis

Cue the music! SONGBOOK collects, for the first time ever, all of the stories in the Paulo and Preston series!

PRESTON is a lifestyle Dominant, recently retired from a career on stage at an exclusive BDSM club. When the series begins, he’s single and looking forward to a quieter life. All that changes on the night of Preston’s last performance when PAULO, a complete novice, takes the place of Preston’s usual stage submissive. By day Paulo does odd jobs and sings in the Sister City Gay Men’s Chorus. After that first night with Preston, however, he wants more. He wants everything. Can a newbie sub and a gracefully aging Dom learn to harmonize?

Each story chronicles a new phase in Paulo and Preston’s relationship and features song lyrics mangled in deliciously naughty ways by Paulo.
Pages or Words: 59,300 words

Categories: BDSM, Contemporary, Erotica, Fiction, Gay Fiction, Humor, M/M Romance, Romance, Multicultural, May/December, Disability

STRW Spotlight Book Excerpt

He was flying from my flogger, and I knew I could break him with the whip. I shouldn’t — he was too new — he’d imprint on me like an orphan nestling. I decided once more on this mad, unexpected night, to trust myself. I would whip Paulo, not break him, and let him down gently once our performance ended.

I examined my control for a split second as I drew back my arm. No uncertainty, no sense of wrongness intruded. I was flying, too, and as much I trusted myself, I found I trusted my surprise sub too. This was right.

He screamed around the gag at the whip’s kisses anyway, though mine were not blows that would shatter him unless I’d read him very, very wrong.

I dropped the whip and removed the obscene gag, kissed the swollen lips, swallowed the last notes of his strange, wild song just as our finale music burgeoned around us. A choir of boys sang John the Beloved’s hymn “Shine on Me,” the perfect song for my last Epiphany on this stage and, I knew now, my first on a new path.

 

STRW Author Bio and Contacts

Before dawn and after dark, Lee Benoit is a writer of queer fiction, some contemporary, some speculative, some historical. During the daylight hours she is a professor of sociology & anthropology. In the old days, Lee traveled the world doing field research. Now she lives in the middle of a New England hayfield where being a single parent provides more than enough excitement. Proudly pansexual, whenever she gets itchy feet and misses the world of research and advocacy, Lee invents a new world in her head and takes notes on what happens there.

Discover more about Lee at http://www.leebenoittales.com

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Tour Dates & Stops: May 19, 2015
Parker Williams, Molly Lolly, Bayou Book Junkie, Inked Rainbow Reads, Charley Descoteaux, Happily Ever Chapter, Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews, Chris McHart, MM Good Book Reviews, Elisa – My Reviews and Ramblings, 3 Chicks After Dark, Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words, Velvet Panic, Up All Night, Read All Day,
My Fiction Nook, Rainbow Gold Reviews

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Contest:  Must be 18 years of age or older to enter. Link and prizes provided by the author and Pride Promotions. Enter to win a Rafflecopter Prize: E-book of Songbook: Paulo and Preston Shorts.

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