In the Spotlight: The Deadly Lies (The Delingpole Mysteries #2) by David C. Dawson (excerpt)

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The Deadly Lies (The Delingpole Mysteries #2) by David C. Dawson
DSP Publications
Cover art by LC. Chase

Available for Purchase at

DSP PublicationsAmazon Kindle US  | Amazon paperback US.    | Apple iBooks  | Barnes & NobleKobo Books |  

Goodreads 

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to host DAvid C. Dawson here today on his tour for The Deadly Lies. Welcome, David.

✒︎

The Deadly Lies is the second in the Dominic Delingpole Mysteries series. The first The Necessary Deaths was published a year ago, and won an FAPA award for mystery and suspense.

Blurb

Dominic and Jonathan are on their romantic Spanish honeymoon, and things are perfect… except Dominic has kept a secret from his husband. He’s failed to tell Jonathan that he plans to meet his former lover, Bernhardt, who is speeding on his way from Germany to present Dominic with a mysterious gift. 

But Bernhardt is killed in a suspicious car accident. Shortly before he dies, he sends Dominic a bizarre text message that will take the newlyweds on a hair-raising adventure. 

Lies upon lies plunge Dominic and Jonathan into an internet crime that could destroy the lives of millions of people. What is the mysterious Charter Ninety-Nine group? And will their planned internet assault force Dominic to choose between the fate of the world and the life of his lover?

Excerpt

“What the hell are you two doing down here?”
Steve pushed his head past Sinon’s naked torso, to see a short, red- haired female flight attendant staring furiously at them.
Sinon levered himself up on Steve’s chest and poked his head out from the tiny bunk bed situated eight feet above the floor. It was one of fourteen similar bunks in the compact crew quarters hidden below the plane’s economy deck. “I can explain, really. Charlie said—”
“I don’t for a minute believe Mr. O’Donnell gave you permission to come down here to—” The flight attendant struggled to find words. “— do that.” Her voice, hardened by the edge of a strong Glaswegian accent, seemed to explode across the cramped cabin.
“Right, gentlemen,” continued the flame-haired woman firmly. “You have exactly one minute to put your clothes on and get back upstairs. Otherwise we’ll be getting the flex cuffs out to restrain you two reprobates for the rest of the flight.”
Sinon jumped down from the bunk bed, stretched out his arms to the flight attendant, and grinned. “Flex cuffs? Yes, please. A bit of bondage is always welcome—” He peered at her name badge. “—Margaret. Didn’t know you were such an accommodating airline.”
Margaret looked Sinon up and down with disdain. “I thought that tall boys like you were supposed to be well-endowed. I was clearly misinformed.” Sinon dropped his arms and reached down to pick up his clothes from the floor. Steve jumped down beside him and began to dress. In the cramped space of the crew compartment, he towered over the diminutive woman.
“Well, love,” said Steve, “you should know more than most that size doesn’t matter. It’s what you do with it that counts.” He winked at Margaret, pulled up his briefs and bleacher jeans, and reached for his polo shirt.
“Margaret? Are you all right?” At the sound of a man’s voice, Steve turned. Another member of the cabin crew had joined them. His name badge showed him to be Charles O’Donnell, In Flight Services Manager. O’Donnell looked to be in his early forties, with crew-cut salt-and-pepper hair and a deeply tanned face and forearms. He looked past Margaret, saw Steve and Sinon, and rolled his eyes.
“It’s all right, Margaret,” he said. There was a strong Northern Irish accent in his voice. “I’ll take care of this.”
Margaret looked from her boss to the giggling figures of Steve and Sinon. “If I had my way, I’d tan their backsides,” she said and pushed past O’Donnell to climb the stairs back to the passenger deck.
O’Donnell folded his arms, leaned against a bulkhead, and closed his eyes. “Of all people to discover you, it had to be Margaret the Mouth. I’m really going to be in the shite now.” He opened his eyes. “Couldn’t you two wait a few more hours until you were back on the ground before you got your dicks out?”
Sinon finished buttoning his fly. He stepped forward and clumsily tried to hug O’Donnell. “Sorry, Charlie boy. But you did slip me the key. I didn’t think we’d been spotted.”
“With him dressed like that?” O’Donnell pushed Sinon away and refolded his arms, glowering at Steve. “Shaved head, tattoos, braces, Doc Marten boots—”
“Grinders, Charlie,” interrupted Sinon. “Steve’s got a really smart set of Grinders.”
“Whatever,” Charlie continued. “It might be an attractive look for some people—”
“People like you and me, Charlie,” added Sinon, grinning. “You know it makes you horny.”
“All right, all right.” O’Donnell sighed. “Look, I’ve had several people ask me why we’re allowing a Nazi thug to y with us. He’s been scaring the life out of my passengers. Couldn’t he have toned it down? Just for a few hours?”
“Why should I?” asked Steve, stepping forward. “Why should I be forced to dress like everyone else? I’m Steve, by the way. And for your information, I’m not a Nazi thug. I’ve been a member of Unite Against Fascism since I was sixteen. Just because I like the look—as do you by the sounds of it—”
Charles O’Donnell’s face flushed red.
“—doesn’t mean I like the politics.”
“That’s a bit naïve, isn’t it?” replied O’Donnell.
“No, Charlie boy,” Sinon said. “What’s naïve is judging people by appearances. Just because someone’s wearing a smart suit and tie doesn’t mean they’re a good little boy.” He turned to Steve. “You should have seen Charlie in his leathers during London Fetish Week. On Masters and Slaves night, he had them eating out of his—”

“Enough, you little shite,” said O’Donnell, holding up his hand. “Get up those stairs, the pair of you.” Steve and Sinon squeezed past him, kissing O’Donnell on the cheek as they went. “And keep a low profile, please,” he continued.

When he heard the hatch slam shut at the top of the stairs, O’Donnell leaned back against the bulkhead and closed his eyes. “For my sake. I’ve got a boyfriend and two Yorkshire terriers to feed.”

 

Links to The Necessary Deaths – The Delingpole Mysteries: Book One 

A young journalism student lies unconscious in a hospital bed in Brighton, England. His life hangs in the balance after a drug overdose. But was it attempted suicide or attempted murder? The student’s mother persuades British lawyer Dominic Delingpole to investigate, and Dominic enlists the aid of his outspoken opera singer partner, Jonathan McFadden.

The student’s boyfriend discovers compromising photographs hidden in his lover’s room. The photographs not only feature senior politicians and business chiefs, but the young journalist himself. Is he being blackmailed, or is he the blackmailer?

As Dominic and Jonathan investigate further, their lives are threatened and three people are murdered. They uncover a conspiracy that reaches into the highest levels of government and powerful corporations. The people behind it are ruthless, and no one can be trusted. The bond between Dominic and Jonathan deepens as they struggle not only for answers, but for their very survival.

Dreamspinner https://www.dsppublications.com/books/the-necessary-deaths-by-david-c-dawson-321-b

Amazon Kindle US https://www.amazon.com/Necessary-Deaths-Delingpole-Mysteries-Book-ebook/dp/B073Q86B5Q/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1473457953&sr=1-4

Amazon paperback US https://www.amazon.com/Necessary-Deaths-Delingpole-Mysteries/dp/1634774507/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1473457953&sr=1-4

Apple iBooks https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/the-necessary-deaths/id1135889190?mt=11

About the Author

David C. Dawson is an award-winning author, journalist and documentary maker. He lives near Oxford in the UK with two cats and his beloved Triumph motorbike.

He writes mystery & suspense, with men in love at the heart of each story. His books have been described as “real page-turners” and “un-put-downable”. His debut novel The Necessary Deaths, won a FAPA award for Mystery & Suspense.

One reviewer for his latest book The Deadly Lies described it as “very sexy”. He campaigns hard for equal rights, and sings with the London Gay Men’s Chorus.

SOCIAL LINKS

Website http://www.davidcdawson.co.uk

Blog http://blog.davidcdawson.co.uk/#home

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/david.c.dawson.5

Twitter https://twitter.com/david_c_dawson

LinkedIn https://www.linkedin.com/in/DavidCDawson

A MelanieM Release Day Review: The Reunion by M.D. Neu

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Rating: 5 stars out of 5

It’s been twenty years since the quiet Midwestern town of Lakeview was struck by tragedy.  But every year on the anniversary of the event Teddy returns home for ‘The Reunion’. Lakeview, like Teddy, has secrets and not all mysteries should come to light.

I read The Reunion by M.D. Neu last of the 4 stories I had and I’m glad I did because I’m still thinking about it.  It’s beautifully written, I fell in love with the characters and the format in which the story is told is guaranteed to leave a chill in your heart and your mind running in circles.

I thought I knew where the author was going with the story and time after time, they proved me wrong.  And that ending….

Yes, this is a must read.  Grab it up now.  And let me know what you think!

Cover art by Natasha Snow is perfect.

Sales Links:

NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble

Book Details:

ebook
Expected publication: October 23rd 2017 by NineStar Press
ISBN139781947904156
Edition LanguageEnglish

Cover Reveal for His Dark Reflection (Heart and Haven #3) by Heloise West (excerpt and giveaway)

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Title: His Dark Reflection
Author: Heloise West
Series: Heart and Haven #3
Release Date: September 12th 2017
Genre: Gay Romance, mystery

HeloiseWest_HisDarkReflection_coverlg

BLURB

Disgraced FBI agent Nick Truman has failed to save his sister, held hostage by a drug cartel until he could give them Alex Crow, who eluded him. His epic downfall lands him in witness protection, where he plays by the rules and keeps to himself. But the murder of his neighbor brings danger to his door. He unexpectedly finds himself the champion of innocents and helplessly attracted to the homicide detective in charge of the case.

This can’t end well.

Homicide Detective Hank Axelrod is good at digging out secrets, maybe because he hides a big one of his own. He also suspects his husband has one foot out of the door of their marriage and the specter of single life looms unpleasantly on the horizon.

A murder resembling another brings Nick into his world, a man who claims to be a mystery writer looking for a real life resource. Hank’s instincts say he’s more than that, and he’s rarely wrong.

Torn between the errant soon-to-be-ex husband and the distracting, sexy stranger, Hank needs to focus all his attention on his murder case before he becomes the next victim.

Pre-Order: Loose ID

Find Heart and Haven series on Goodreads

EXCERPT

It was different when he’d wanted information from Nick. Hank wanted to confide in Nick, like with the partner he used to have before he got stuck with Burgess. Like Nick knew what he was talking about—could be trusted.

“Are you a cop?”

Nick touched his fingers to his mouth. He must have needed a cigarette, if the telltale scent of tobacco was any indication. “I answered that one already. Nope.”

That nope was annoying. “Fed? PI? Security?” Hank threw out a few more. “Reporter? Work for the criminal court?”

“I drive limos,” Nick said with a languid shrug. Glancing over his shoulder at the impatient date, he held up two fingers.

“Oh, a fan, are you? Watch CSI, NCIS—a lookie-loo?”

By the tightening of his mouth into a sneer, that pissed Nick off. “I’m no cop wannabe. I don’t watch the idiot box.”

Well, shit. The pain in Nick St. Cloud’s brown eyes was real. Deep. Hank gave him a minute to recover, watching him rub his wrists, then naked arms. It gave Hank a thrill, as if he could feel the man’s heated skin on his own.

“Don’t be a bastard, Detective.”

“Well? I can run a background check on you in a heartbeat.”

Nick tried to hide it, but a flare of panic made his pupils dilate. “And if I say I’m not that extremely guilty guy who hangs around helping the know-nothing cops, you’ll believe me?”

“You’re something. What is it, I wonder?”

Don’t tease the cat, Hank.

“Okay.” A bead of sweat dripped past a pale white scar at his hairline, the only imperfection Hank could see. “I’m a writer, not a journalist. I mean, I’m a mystery writer.”

“Published?”

“Nope, not yet. So maybe you can be a resource, you know? I can do a ride-along with you or something.” Nick looked away, back toward Probably and gave him a nod. Probably picked up his sweater from the back of the chair and stood.

“Sure,” Hank agreed.

“Wait, what—really?”

Hank held still a moment, beer glass halfway to his mouth, unsure what he was seeing in Nick’s intelligent eyes. Hope? Excitement? Fear? “We can talk about procedure—I’ve got some good stories. But I don’t know about the ride-along at this point. My partner’s a prick.”

“But we can meet…and talk.” Nick stood and dug into his pocket for his wallet.

“I’ve got this.” Hank waved it away. “You want the book to be accurate, right? It’s good PR too.”

Nick’s smile curled Hank’s toes.

“On me next time. We can meet here or wherever.” Nick hovered, as if Hank had held out something sweet to him, and he was afraid to take it.

Probably cleared his throat loudly.

“Have a good night, Nick,” Hank said. “We’ll talk. You have my number.”

What did you just do?

Giveaway: Win 3 x His Dark Reflection ebooks

a Rafflecopter giveaway

About the Author

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Heloise West, when not hunched over the keyboard plotting love and mayhem, dreams about moving to a villa in Tuscany. She loves history, mysteries, and romance of all flavors. She travels and gardens with her partner of thirteen years, and their home overflows with books, cats, art, and red wine.

Links: Blog | Website | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Tumblr | Goodreads

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An Ali Audiobook Review: Draakenwood (Whyborne & Griffin #9) by Jordan L. Hawk and Julian G. Simmons (Narrator)

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Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
Someone is killing members of the old families…and the evidence points to Whyborne.

Widdershins has been unusually quiet for months. But now a mysterious creature from the Outside is on the loose, assassinating members of the town’s old families by draining their blood. Whyborne and Griffin set out to solve the mystery—but as the evidence piles up, the police begin to suspect Whyborne himself is the murderer.

Now Whyborne must both clear his name and stop the horrors the monster threatens to unleash. His only hope: an alliance with his old enemies the Endicotts.

Because something terrible lurks in the Draakenwood, and it will stop at nothing to seize control of the maelstrom itself.

Draakenwood is the ninth book in the Whyborne & Griffin series, where magic, mystery, and m/m romance collide with Victorian era America.
Every time I read a book in this series I wonder how the author keeps coming up with such unique plots that keep me entertained from the first page until the end.  This book was no exception.  Whyborne and Griffin are drawn in to another mystery when members of the town’s old families begin to die in mysterious ways.  They are still trying to figure out the Fideles and Whyborne is worrying about his role in things.  He is a bit overwhelmed in some ways and he misses the easier times he and Griffin had in the past. 
The plot itself is fast paced and full of adventure.  It’s also pretty creepy in places.  In addition to a constant supply of new plots, the author manages to give us a constant supply of new kinds of monsters.  The ones in this book were some of the scariest we’ve seen. There are a lot of the side characters we’ve grown to love in the course of the series such as Christine (who I want to be when I grow up) and Persephone, as well as others we may not care for so much, such as Whyborne’s father.
This audio book was narrated by Julian G. Simmons and I thought he did a very good job. I felt like he did both Whyborne and Griffin in distinctive manners that made each other them stand out.  He also did a good job on the side characters and there were quite a few for this audio.  I have not listened to this narrator before but will definitely try him again.
Overall, I really enjoyed this.  I thought it was a very fun installation in this series.  I had read all of the previous books and this was my first audio version.  I enjoyed it a lot though and may do the next on audio also.  
Cover Art by Lou Harper:  Unfortunately I really dislike the cover.  I am not at all a fan of the cover re-dos for this series.  I wish the author had left them like they were.  I was so bummed the day I turned on my Kindle to discover my old covered books had automatically turned over to these new ones. 

Sales Links

Audible | Amazon | iTunes

Audiobook Details:
Audible Audio
Published July 24th 2017 by Widdershins Press LLC (first published June 2nd 2017)
ASINB0743M4SWD
Edition LanguageEnglish
SeriesWhyborne & Griffin #9 settingWiddershins, Massashusetts (United States)
Massachusetts (United States)

Release Day Blitz for Lying Eyes by Robert Winter (excerpt and giveaway)

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Title:  Lying Eyes

Author: Robert Winter

Publisher:  Robert Winter Books (self-published)

Release Date: July 7, 2017

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 84300

Genre: Romance, Mystery, BDSM

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

This bartender’s art lies in more than mixing drinks …

Randy Vaughan is a six-foot-three mass of mysteries to his customers and his friends. Why does a former Secret Service agent now own Mata Hari, a successful piano bar? Where did a muscle daddy get his passion for collecting fine art? If he’s as much a loner as his friends believe, why does he crave weekly sessions at an exclusive leather club?

Randy’s carefully private life unravels when Jack Fraser, a handsome art historian from England, walks into his bar, anxious to get his hands on a painting Randy owns. The desperation Randy glimpses in whiskey-colored eyes draws him in, as does the desire to submit that he senses beneath Jack’s elegant, driven exterior.

While wrestling with his attraction to Jack, Randy has to deal with a homeless teenager, a break-in at Mata Hari, and Jack’s relentless pursuit of the painting called Sunrise. It becomes clear someone’s lying to Randy. Unless he can figure out who and why, he may miss his chance at the love he’s dreamed about in the hidden places of his heart.

Note: Lying Eyes is a standalone gay romance novel with consensual bondage and a strong happy ending. It contains potential spoilers for Robert Winter’s prior novel, Every Breath You Take.

Purchase

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA

 

Excerpt

Saturday rolled around, and Randy headed to town early to make sure everything was ready for Mata Hari’s busiest evening of the week. Although the bar officially opened at five-thirty, it was rare for anyone to wander in much before seven o’clock. Randy was surprised when the front door opened at six to admit a good-looking man.

The stranger was probably about five foot nine or ten, and wore a three-piece suit that seemed tailored to accentuate a lean build. His dark hair was cut stylishly short on the sides but thick and swept back on the top, and his mustache and full beard were closely trimmed. A brightly colored necktie contrasted with the somber gray of his suit. Randy had trouble assessing the man’s age, but he would go with thirty. European, though—Randy would stake the bar on that guess.

The newcomer contemplated the walls of Mata Hari, passing almost dismissively over the art on display. He studied each piece for no more than a second before moving to the next, but Randy had a distinct impression the man sought something in particular. As he completed his survey, he kept turning and eventually met Randy’s eyes across the bar.

Immediately desire flared in the man’s face as his hungry gaze drifted over Randy’s tight white shirt and up to his face, lingering on his mouth. Shoulders tightened almost imperceptibly as he drew himself to his full height, yet Randy recognized a softening of hard edges. He lazily ran his own eyes to the stranger’s luxurious beard, and he imagined stroking the softness there. He sensed something accommodating. Something potentially submissive, yet more subtle than the wanton displays of obedience and posing he was used to on Mondays at his private club.

Something he would enjoy channeling and rewarding, in the right circumstance.

The man started toward the bar. As he moved, Randy had the odd sense that the suit he wore was ill-fitting, even though it seemed perfectly tailored. A step away from the bar, his face just—closed. That was the only word for it. One instant he was cruising Randy; the next he was stone.

Randy sighed to himself. The guy was probably a closet case on his first night at a gay bar. That usually meant an unsatisfying encounter, even if the newbie didn’t rabbit. In any case, it wasn’t Randy’s thing. He’d had plenty of virgin ass over the years, and preferred his men experienced.

Fine. Nothing for me here. He waited at the bar, vaguely disappointed.

“Sir, good evening.” The man’s accent was English, his words precise and elegant like his hair and his clothes and his beard. Probably from London. Up close, Randy could see his eyes were a deep shade of brown graced with streaks of gold around the pupils that caught the lights over the bar. “I’m looking for a Mr. Randall Vaughan.”

Despite forswearing his immediate attraction to the stranger, that honeyed voice caused Randy to smile slowly and show his teeth. He registered the slight widening of the eyes behind the stranger’s mask as he focused on Randy’s mouth.

“I’m Randy Vaughan. And you are…?”

The man blinked in surprise. “Oh. The Mr. Vaughan I was seeking is an art collector.”

Shit. Just another jerkwad, making assumptions right away. Randy was a big man so he couldn’t possibly be knowledgeable about art, could he? Well, fuck that noise. One more chance.

“I wouldn’t use the term collector, but…” Randy gestured at the walls.

“Quite so,” the man said distantly, and turned to sweep his gaze over the works on the nearest wall. “Neither would I.”

Randy’s back stiffened immediately. The stranger—no, the asshole—turned his attention back to Randy and held out a hand. He seemed oblivious to the fact that he’d just royally pissed Randy off. “My name is Jack Fraser. I’m from the Kensington Museum in London.” Fraser paused as if waiting for Randy to be impressed. “I sent you a letter recently.”

Randy willed himself not to think further about Fraser’s whiskey-colored eyes or the luxuriousness of his beard, and he didn’t take the offered hand. Instead, he wiped a small spill on the counter before him. “You did,” he agreed in a bored tone.

Fraser dropped his hand. “Ah, yes.” A pause. “My secretary didn’t hear from you to set up an appointment.”

“Which was my answer to your request,” Randy said, letting some snarl appear as he met Fraser’s eyes. They were still guarded and closed off, but Randy could see embers burning deep inside. In the right setting, and with proper motivation, he could imagine making those embers flare and ignite in the slender man before him. For the moment, though, the eyes just narrowed in calculation.

Before Fraser could say anything, Randy turned away. “If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

“May I buy a pint?” Fraser asked, desperation shading his smooth accent.

Randy considered calling Malcolm over to deal with it, but stopped in front of the beer taps. He was annoyed at his lingering attraction, and he decided to push back on this prick a bit. “Fine. What’s your pleasure?”

“Guinness. If you have it.”

“Of course you’d drink Guinness.” A little scorn curled Randy’s lip. “Well, the closest beer I have is a stout from Flying Dog.” He let his sneer turn feral. “It’s called Pearl Necklace.” He dropped his eyes to Fraser’s necktie, as if he could picture that very thing replacing the colorful silk.

Fraser blinked nervously. Probably he could picture it too. Maybe he even imagined Randy’s hot jizz splattering his chest and neck as his reward. Well, he shouldn’t have been a condescending shit out of the gate then. Randy waited, one hand on the tap, the other idly scratching his ear to make his bicep flex under his white shirt. Fraser focused on his arm and swallowed audibly.

“That’ll be fine,” he said. “A, uh, Flying Dog then.” Randy drew the pint to set before Fraser on a coaster. He didn’t wait for the man to take a sip or comment, but headed to the other end of the bar to check inventory.

He stayed busy but somehow noticed that Fraser lingered at the bar for several minutes, apparently hoping Randy would come back and let him ask again about the piece Randy had purchased from the Gates Gallery. When Randy deliberately kept his distance, Fraser took his beer (which, Randy was pleased to note, was more than half gone) and wandered around the room to examine more carefully each painting displayed. Sometimes he moved on quickly to the next piece of art. Other times, he gave a slight shake of his head.

Randy’s ears burned, and he considered throwing the guy out. Since he’d opened Mata Hari no one had given him grief about his collection. To be honest, no one had studied it the way Fraser did, but still. Each piece had been acquired because Randy connected to something in it. To have this handsome English stuffed shirt look down his nose offended Randy in a way he couldn’t even articulate. He seethed inside the longer Fraser spent on his dismissive tour of the room.

When Fraser reached a landscape that was hung over a small settee, he gave a distinct snort. He set his empty beer glass on a nearby table and Randy swooped over to pick it up, ostentatiously swiping the wood as if it had left a ring. “Another Pearl Necklace?” he snarled.

“Ah, no. Thank you.” Fraser seemed surprised to find Randy standing so close, though his eyes remained closed off and stony. “But it was a quite nice stout after all. Thank you for the recommendation.”

Randy gestured at the landscape with his chin. “Is that painting offensive to you for some reason? You’re practically laughing at it.”

“What? Oh no, it’s…fine. Competent. It’s the presentation, the arrangement of the art, that I find amusing.”

Randy ran his gaze over the pieces arranged on that wall of the bar. He’d decided where to hang each and every work over a long stretch of time as he’d readied Mata Hari for opening. He revisited the collection frequently and rotated different pieces in and out of prominent positions. Most of his customers were oblivious but Randy took great satisfaction in presenting something unique in the atmosphere of his bar.

“What’s amusing about it?”

“Well, there’s no story, is there?” Fraser answered him.

“What do you mean?”

“Individually each piece is presentable. A few are even intriguing. But see here,” he gestured at the landscape, “this is a nicely executed pastoral, yet it’s positioned between a Japanese scroll and a watercolor of a monarch butterfly. The pieces say nothing about each other, and have no intrinsic relationship.

“But over there,” he indicated the wall opposite, “is a modern landscape. Change the frames to something complementary, place them side by side, and the two landscapes together suggest a conversation in, oh, quite a lot actually. Painting techniques, the subject and tonal changes in works separated by two artistic traditions. You see?”

Randy did see, but he’d be damned if he’d admit it. “Two landscapes here wouldn’t fit,” he said stubbornly.

“Ah. Art as furniture. Of course,” Fraser said with a smirk, and that did it.

“No charge for the Pearl Necklace,” Randy barked. “Since you made the trip for nothing.”

Meet the Author

Robert Winter lives and writes in Provincetown. He is a recovering lawyer who prefers writing about hot men in love much more than drafting a legal brief. He left behind the (allegedly) glamorous world of an international law firm to sit in his home office and dream up ways to torment his characters until they realize they are perfect for each other. When he isn’t writing, Robert likes to cook Indian food and explore new restaurants. He splits his attention between Andy, his partner of sixteen years, and Ling the Adventure Cat, who likes to fly in airplanes and explore the backyard jungle as long as the temperature and humidity are just right.

 

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | eMail

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Cover Reveal for Lying Eyes by Robert Winter (excerpt)

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Title:  Lying Eyes

Author: Robert Winter

Publisher:  Robert Winter Books (self-published)

Release Date: July 7, 2017

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 84300

Genre: Romance, Mystery, BDSM

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

This bartender’s art lies in more than mixing drinks …

Randy Vaughan is a six-foot-three mass of mysteries to his customers and his friends. Why does a former Secret Service agent now own Mata Hari, a successful piano bar? Where did a muscle daddy get his passion for collecting fine art? If he’s as much a loner as his friends believe, why does he crave weekly sessions at an exclusive leather club?

Randy’s carefully private life unravels when Jack Fraser, a handsome art historian from England, walks into his bar, anxious to get his hands on a painting Randy owns. The desperation Randy glimpses in whiskey-colored eyes draws him in, as does the desire to submit that he senses beneath Jack’s elegant, driven exterior.

While wrestling with his attraction to Jack, Randy has to deal with a homeless teenager, a break-in at Mata Hari, and Jack’s relentless pursuit of the painting called Sunrise. It becomes clear someone’s lying to Randy. Unless he can figure out who and why, he may miss his chance at the love he’s dreamed about in the hidden places of his heart.

Note: Lying Eyes is a standalone gay romance novel with consensual bondage and a strong happy ending. It contains potential spoilers for Robert Winter’s prior novel, Every Breath You Take.

Excerpt

Saturday rolled around, and Randy headed to town early to make sure everything was ready for Mata Hari’s busiest evening of the week. Although the bar officially opened at five-thirty, it was rare for anyone to wander in much before seven o’clock. Randy was surprised when the front door opened at six to admit a good-looking man.

The stranger was probably about five foot nine or ten, and wore a three-piece suit that seemed tailored to accentuate a lean build. His dark hair was cut stylishly short on the sides but thick and swept back on the top, and his mustache and full beard were closely trimmed. A brightly colored necktie contrasted with the somber gray of his suit. Randy had trouble assessing the man’s age, but he would go with thirty. European, though—Randy would stake the bar on that guess.

The newcomer contemplated the walls of Mata Hari, passing almost dismissively over the art on display. He studied each piece for no more than a second before moving to the next, but Randy had a distinct impression the man sought something in particular. As he completed his survey, he kept turning and eventually met Randy’s eyes across the bar.

Immediately desire flared in the man’s face as his hungry gaze drifted over Randy’s tight white shirt and up to his face, lingering on his mouth. Shoulders tightened almost imperceptibly as he drew himself to his full height, yet Randy recognized a softening of hard edges. He lazily ran his own eyes to the stranger’s luxurious beard, and he imagined stroking the softness there. He sensed something accommodating. Something potentially submissive, yet more subtle than the wanton displays of obedience and posing he was used to on Mondays at his private club.

Something he would enjoy channeling and rewarding, in the right circumstance.

The man started toward the bar. As he moved, Randy had the odd sense that the suit he wore was ill-fitting, even though it seemed perfectly tailored. A step away from the bar, his face just—closed. That was the only word for it. One instant he was cruising Randy; the next he was stone.

Randy sighed to himself. The guy was probably a closet case on his first night at a gay bar. That usually meant an unsatisfying encounter, even if the newbie didn’t rabbit. In any case, it wasn’t Randy’s thing. He’d had plenty of virgin ass over the years, and preferred his men experienced.

Fine. Nothing for me here. He waited at the bar, vaguely disappointed.

“Sir, good evening.” The man’s accent was English, his words precise and elegant like his hair and his clothes and his beard. Probably from London. Up close, Randy could see his eyes were a deep shade of brown graced with streaks of gold around the pupils that caught the lights over the bar. “I’m looking for a Mr. Randall Vaughan.”

Despite forswearing his immediate attraction to the stranger, that honeyed voice caused Randy to smile slowly and show his teeth. He registered the slight widening of the eyes behind the stranger’s mask as he focused on Randy’s mouth.

“I’m Randy Vaughan. And you are…?”

The man blinked in surprise. “Oh. The Mr. Vaughan I was seeking is an art collector.”

Shit. Just another jerkwad, making assumptions right away. Randy was a big man so he couldn’t possibly be knowledgeable about art, could he? Well, fuck that noise. One more chance.

“I wouldn’t use the term collector, but…” Randy gestured at the walls.

“Quite so,” the man said distantly, and turned to sweep his gaze over the works on the nearest wall. “Neither would I.”

Randy’s back stiffened immediately. The stranger—no, the asshole—turned his attention back to Randy and held out a hand. He seemed oblivious to the fact that he’d just royally pissed Randy off. “My name is Jack Fraser. I’m from the Kensington Museum in London.” Fraser paused as if waiting for Randy to be impressed. “I sent you a letter recently.”

Randy willed himself not to think further about Fraser’s whiskey-colored eyes or the luxuriousness of his beard, and he didn’t take the offered hand. Instead, he wiped a small spill on the counter before him. “You did,” he agreed in a bored tone.

Fraser dropped his hand. “Ah, yes.” A pause. “My secretary didn’t hear from you to set up an appointment.”

“Which was my answer to your request,” Randy said, letting some snarl appear as he met Fraser’s eyes. They were still guarded and closed off, but Randy could see embers burning deep inside. In the right setting, and with proper motivation, he could imagine making those embers flare and ignite in the slender man before him. For the moment, though, the eyes just narrowed in calculation.

Before Fraser could say anything, Randy turned away. “If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

“May I buy a pint?” Fraser asked, desperation shading his smooth accent.

Randy considered calling Malcolm over to deal with it, but stopped in front of the beer taps. He was annoyed at his lingering attraction, and he decided to push back on this prick a bit. “Fine. What’s your pleasure?”

“Guinness. If you have it.”

“Of course you’d drink Guinness.” A little scorn curled Randy’s lip. “Well, the closest beer I have is a stout from Flying Dog.” He let his sneer turn feral. “It’s called Pearl Necklace.” He dropped his eyes to Fraser’s necktie, as if he could picture that very thing replacing the colorful silk.

Fraser blinked nervously. Probably he could picture it too. Maybe he even imagined Randy’s hot jizz splattering his chest and neck as his reward. Well, he shouldn’t have been a condescending shit out of the gate then. Randy waited, one hand on the tap, the other idly scratching his ear to make his bicep flex under his white shirt. Fraser focused on his arm and swallowed audibly.

“That’ll be fine,” he said. “A, uh, Flying Dog then.” Randy drew the pint to set before Fraser on a coaster. He didn’t wait for the man to take a sip or comment, but headed to the other end of the bar to check inventory.

He stayed busy but somehow noticed that Fraser lingered at the bar for several minutes, apparently hoping Randy would come back and let him ask again about the piece Randy had purchased from the Gates Gallery. When Randy deliberately kept his distance, Fraser took his beer (which, Randy was pleased to note, was more than half gone) and wandered around the room to examine more carefully each painting displayed. Sometimes he moved on quickly to the next piece of art. Other times, he gave a slight shake of his head.

Randy’s ears burned, and he considered throwing the guy out. Since he’d opened Mata Hari no one had given him grief about his collection. To be honest, no one had studied it the way Fraser did, but still. Each piece had been acquired because Randy connected to something in it. To have this handsome English stuffed shirt look down his nose offended Randy in a way he couldn’t even articulate. He seethed inside the longer Fraser spent on his dismissive tour of the room.

When Fraser reached a landscape that was hung over a small settee, he gave a distinct snort. He set his empty beer glass on a nearby table and Randy swooped over to pick it up, ostentatiously swiping the wood as if it had left a ring. “Another Pearl Necklace?” he snarled.

“Ah, no. Thank you.” Fraser seemed surprised to find Randy standing so close, though his eyes remained closed off and stony. “But it was a quite nice stout after all. Thank you for the recommendation.”

Randy gestured at the landscape with his chin. “Is that painting offensive to you for some reason? You’re practically laughing at it.”

“What? Oh no, it’s…fine. Competent. It’s the presentation, the arrangement of the art, that I find amusing.”

Randy ran his gaze over the pieces arranged on that wall of the bar. He’d decided where to hang each and every work over a long stretch of time as he’d readied Mata Hari for opening. He revisited the collection frequently and rotated different pieces in and out of prominent positions. Most of his customers were oblivious but Randy took great satisfaction in presenting something unique in the atmosphere of his bar.

“What’s amusing about it?”

“Well, there’s no story, is there?” Fraser answered him.

“What do you mean?”

“Individually each piece is presentable. A few are even intriguing. But see here,” he gestured at the landscape, “this is a nicely executed pastoral, yet it’s positioned between a Japanese scroll and a watercolor of a monarch butterfly. The pieces say nothing about each other, and have no intrinsic relationship.

“But over there,” he indicated the wall opposite, “is a modern landscape. Change the frames to something complementary, place them side by side, and the two landscapes together suggest a conversation in, oh, quite a lot actually. Painting techniques, the subject and tonal changes in works separated by two artistic traditions. You see?”

Randy did see, but he’d be damned if he’d admit it. “Two landscapes here wouldn’t fit,” he said stubbornly.

“Ah. Art as furniture. Of course,” Fraser said with a smirk, and that did it.

“No charge for the Pearl Necklace,” Randy barked. “Since you made the trip for nothing.”

 

Meet the Author

Robert Winter lives and writes in Provincetown. He is a recovering lawyer who prefers writing about hot men in love much more than drafting a legal brief. He left behind the (allegedly) glamorous world of an international law firm to sit in his home office and dream up ways to torment his characters until they realize they are perfect for each other.

When he isn’t writing, Robert likes to cook Indian food and explore new restaurants. He splits his attention between Andy, his partner of sixteen years, and Ling the Adventure Cat, who likes to fly in airplanes and explore the backyard jungle as long as the temperature and humidity are just right.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | eMail

 

 

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Riptide Tour and Giveaway – Assassins: Discord by Erica Cameron

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Assassins: Discord (Assassins #1) by Erica Cameron
R
iptide Publishing
Cover by: Damonza

Read an Excerpt/Buy It Here

 

About Assassins: Discord

Kindra’s moral compass has never pointed north, but that’s what happens when you’re raised as an assassin and a thief. At sixteen, she’s fantastic with a blade, an expert at slipping through the world unnoticed, and trapped in a life she didn’t chose. But nothing in her training prepares her for what happens when her father misses a target.

In the week-long aftermath, Kindra breaks ranks for the first time in her life. She steals documents, starts questioning who their client is and why the target needs to die, botches a second hit on her father’s target, and is nearly killed. And that’s before she’s kidnapped by a green-eyed stranger connected to a part of her childhood she’d almost forgotten.

Kindra has to decide who to trust and which side of the battle to fight for. She has to do it fast and she has to be right, because the wrong choice will kill her just when she’s finally found something worth living for.

Purchase at Riptide: http://riptidepublishing.com/authors/erica-cameron

About Erica Cameron

After a lifelong obsession with books, Erica Cameron spent her college years getting credit for reading and learning how to make stories of her own. Erica graduated with a double major in psychology and creative writing from Florida State University and began pursuing a career as an author.

Erica is many things but most notably the following: writer, reader, editor, dance fan, choreographer, singer, lover of musical theater, movie obsessed, sucker for romance, ex-Florida resident, and quasi-recluse. She loves the beach but hates the heat, has equal passion for the art of Salvador Dali and Venetian Carnival masks, has a penchant for unique jewelry and sun/moon décor pieces, and a desire to travel the entire world on a cruise ship. Or a private yacht. You know, whatever works.

Connect with Erica:

assassinsdiscord_tourbanner

Giveaway

To celebrate the release of Assassins: Discord, one lucky winner will receive $30 in Riptide Publishing credit! Leave a comment with your contact info to enter the contest. Entries close at midnight, Eastern time, on September 10, 2016. Contest is NOT restricted to U.S. entries. Thanks for following the tour, and don’t forget to leave your contact info!

In the Supernatural Spotlight: A King and a Pawn (Leader Murders #3) by Liv Olteano

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A King and a Pawn by Liv Olteano
Series: Leader Murders
Release Date: June 17, 2016

Goodreads Link
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: AngstyG

Blurb:

Bert Cooper’s life used to be great, until his sister turned out to be a traitor. Now Bert feels the whole pack looks on him with doubt and suspicion. To prove his loyalty, he volunteers to be the first ambassador at Fey Court, gathering information to finally solve the Leader Murders and punish those plotting against the Council and community. At least, that was the plan….

When Bert meets Sir William Matthew Sims, Court Interrogator, and one hell of a sexy man, life becomes a balancing act. And when the Fey King is assassinated, things become really messy.

Pack politics, fey politics, treason, suspicions of treason…. Bert has to choose between being ruled by his fears or standing up for what—and who—he believes in. And it might just break his heart.

 

Pages or Words: 234 pages, 82,000 words

Categories: Contemporary, M/M Romance, Mystery, Parnormal, Romance, Urban Fantasy, Wolf Shifters

Excerpt from A King and a Pawn by Liv Olteano:

“Would you take me in as a trophy, Bert?” he asked, smiling oddly, a sort of indulgent look in his eyes.

I wasn’t going to outsmart him, that was for sure. Luckily I didn’t think I had to.

“I wouldn’t be taking you in at all. You and your kids would simply accompany me. I’m sure you can find something of value to offer me so I’ll be willing to go that way. And then you’d find something of value to offer Weiss and the Council to give you guys, say, political asylum?”

“You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”

I shrugged. “I’m sure you did. I don’t think you’re a fool, Will. I’m sure you’re not, in fact. So I’m giving you the courtesy of not treating you as one. A courtesy I hope you’ll give me too.”

“Implying that I have not so far?” he asked, stepping toward me again.

My pulse spiked. “I wasn’t implying that at all.”

We were face-to-face, a step apart at most. My mind stuttered over the few stray thoughts I managed to recognize. It was unusual someone’s presence would affect me this much, this soon. Was he that special? Was our chemistry that special? Or was he using some sort of spell on me? I didn’t think that was beneath him. Magic wasn’t beneath any magic-wielding fey, just like changing into a wolf wasn’t beneath me as werewolf. It was a natural part of who we were. I just wasn’t that used to his natural part, and the very idea made me smile.

“What could I offer you that you’d like to have?” he asked as his breath touched my face with every word he uttered.

“Oh, I could think of several things,” I replied.

He leaned toward me. His lips brushed against mine now when he spoke. “I could think of several things I’d like to offer you as well.”

I gulped. Shit, I couldn’t think with my dick. Not now at least. I so wanted to. It would be so easy to whisper it sweetly: “Fuck my brains out and I’ll be on your side.” But I wasn’t here for shits and giggles, so I couldn’t. There was no reason I couldn’t hope I’d get a fuck out of the situation somewhere down the line. The more time we spent together, the better chance of that happening. That was pretty solid motivation to spin things in a way that would benefit us all in the end. There. I wasn’t doing this for my selfish fuck-greedy self but for the greater good. I was a fucking humanitarian, feyitarian, whateveritarian.

“I’ll only ask for one small thing for myself,” I whispered softly.

He brushed his lips against mine. The touch sent little fiery thrills down my nerve endings, from the skin of my lips right to the pulsing muscle of my heart. I felt his breath hitch at the contact, and the idea it might affect him almost as much as it was affecting me sent a shiver down my spine. We could have been faking it, both of us. This was a negotiation of sorts, and now was the time to bring on our top game. But I felt it in my gut that this connection was real, that it wasn’t bullshit for either one of us. I just knew it in the pit of my stomach. I wondered if he knew it too, as clearly as I did right in that instant.

His scent didn’t assault my senses since he’d been hanging out in my personal space for a while now. My senses were bathed in his scent already. But I could feel the pounding of his heart as I deepened the kiss; I could feel his muscles clench and unwind with sensual tension while my body sang with it. Fuck me sideways, I wanted him right now. I wanted him so bad it almost gutted me. The feel of him languidly moving his tongue against mine made my blood turn into liquid fire, scalding my insides and bringing up my body temperature to heights I didn’t think I’d felt before after just kissing. Everything in my body screamed, This. This is it. This is what you’ve been waiting for, for so fucking long!

“What do you want?” he asked after he pulled back, his forehead leaning against mine.

Fuck, fuck it, fuck! “I want all the information you can get from the Archives on a certain topic.”

 

Buy the book:

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=7849

 

 

 

 

Meet the author:

Liv Olteano is a voracious reader, music lover, and coffee addict extraordinaire. And occasional geek. Okay, more than occasional.

She believes stories are the best kind of magic there is. And life would be horrible without magic. Her hobbies include losing herself in the minds and souls of characters, giving up countless nights of sleep to get to know said characters, and trying to introduce them to the world. Sometimes they appreciate her efforts. The process would probably go quicker if they’d bring her a cup of coffee now and then when stopping by. Characters—what can you do, right?

Liv has a penchant for quirky stories and is a reverent lover of diversity. She can be found loitering around the Internet at odd hours and being generally awkward and goofy at all times.

Where to find the author:

 


Tour Dates & Stops:

30-Jun

Parker Williams, Dawn’s Reading Nook, Happily Ever Chapter, Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews,

MM Good Book Reviews, The Jena Wade, The Dark Arts, Book Lovers 4Ever, Velvet Panic,

Charley Descoteaux, Alpha Book Club, Molly Lolly, Oh My Shelves

 

1-Jul

Bayou Book Junkie, A.M. Leibowitz, BFD Book Blog, Full Moon Dreaming, My Fiction Nook,

Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents, Havan Fellows, The Fuzzy, Fluffy World of Chris T. Kat,

EE Montgomery, Gay Media Reviews, Kirsty Loves Books, Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words,

V’s Reads

 

Giveaway

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L.G. Fabbo-Gonnella’s Vampire P.I. is Back in The Case of the Thwarted Lovers (excerpt and giveaway)

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Title: The Case of the Thwarted Lovers
Author: L.G. Fabbo-Gonnella
Series: Mark Julian, Vampire P.I., Book Six
Genre: Mystery, Detective, Gay romance, Paranormal
Length: Novel
Publisher: Ai Press

Synopsis

It’s been a long shift for Detective Vincent Pasquale. Back at his desk at the station he finds a phone message from his vampire spouse, Mark, waiting for him.

“Hi. I figured calling your station phone number was more secure than using a cell. Listen our friend Dexter found something about who may have tried to frame Jean-Claude. Turns out that there is a lot more to this thing! It’s big. Jean-Claude and Jaime are meeting me here before we all head over to see Tortego at his offices. We should be there in a half hour and we figure this meeting will run most of the day. If you can join us fine but if not I’ll tell you about it later after your shift is over. Call me.”

A few moments later a report comes into the station about a possible terrorist bomb explosion at a Midtown office building. No survivors are reported. To his horror Vinnie realizes the bombsite’s address is the exact location of Tortego’s offices. In a panic Vinnie rushes to the scene where, out of nowhere, he is shot from behind by an unknown assailant. Its’ four funerals and a wedding, as the newest Julian book unfolds.

Excerpt

   Vinnie was still trying to make sense of what he had just heard when suddenly a loud commotion erupted in the outer room of the police station. Everyone in the squad turned their heads to see a young police rookie burst into the room. “A bomb just went off by Saint Pat’s,” the shaken young Latino officer hurriedly blurted out. “The blast took out at least one building! There are injuries and maybe worse.”

There was silent for a few seconds before a multitude of voices broke out asking questions of the rookie. Some of the older detectives grabbed their jackets just as their Captain quickly strode into the room to speak to everyone in the squad room. All talking ceased as the men and women in the room paused to stare at their boss. “We don’t know if it’s terrorists but everyone should understand that right now we are in code red,” he calmly said. “We’ve drilled for this since 9/11. You all know what to do and what our city and I both expect from every person here. Get to your assigned posts now!” Within seconds, people were quickly scrambling to obey.

As the news of where the explosion fully sunk into his mind a terrifying thought took hold of Vinnie. “Captain, what buildings!” he yelled out amid the squad room’s commotion. “What building went up?”

The Captain looked at a paper and gave out the address. When Vinnie heard it he sat down in his chair. That’s where Tortego’s office is located, his mind screamed as he ran his hand through his dark curls in horror. Sweet Christ in heaven, Mark, Jaime, and Jean-Claude are there with him! The frantic detective quickly got up and ran to his Captain. “I need to go to that explosion site, sir,” he said while trying to stay calm.

 

The Case of the Thwarted Lovers Banner

Buy Links

Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01EQAWGJW/
Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01EQAWGJW/
Amazon AU: http://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B01EQAWGJW/
Amazon DE: http://www.amazon.de/dp/B01EQAWGJW/

Giveaway

Prizes: 2 bundles of Books One, Two, and Three in the Mark Julian, Vampire P.I. Series

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More in the Mark Julian, Vampire P.I. Series

While each individual mystery can be read as a stand along, there are storylines that continue from one book to another, so we recommend you use the series in order:

Book One – The Case of the Choirboy Killer
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00L8H28U4/

Book Two – The Case of the Strega’s Touch
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00LU0DNF8/

Book Three – The Case of the Heavenly Host
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00PD1LGKY/

Book Four – The Case of the Vampire Hunter
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0113C3UNM/

Book Five – The Case No One Foretold
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B016B0F3ZE/

About the author

L.G.Fabbo-Gonnella is a resident of NYC. He has often said Manhattan is the underlying unspoken character in many of his books. “I guess it’s a love affair that I have with her,” he once said. “I could live here forever and yet still find magical things about her that I never knew existed.”

When not seeking out interesting new locales for his books he can be found dinning with friends and enjoying all the city he adores has to offer.

Though he has not yet met the supernatural denizens of NYC, he does hope too one day. And yes, there is a “letter Lounge” albeit under a different name.

He can be reached at L.G.Fabbo.Gonnella@gmail.co
Facebook: https://facebook.com/Mystery-writings-of-LG-Fabbo-Gonnella
Website: http://fabbo-gonnella.blogspot.com

Love The Supernatural? Sean Kerr is Talking Writing, the Supernatural and His Latest Release, Dead Camp (interview,excerpt and giveaway)

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Dead Camp (Dead Camp #1) by Sean Kerr
Release Date: January 1, 2016

Goodreads Link
Publisher: Extasy Books
Cover Artist: Latrisha Waters

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is so happy to have author Sean Kerr here today to share his thoughts on writing, the supernatural and his latest release, Dead Camp.  Welcome, Sean.

✍✍✍

  • Why do you write?

I love to create stories and characters, it’s a fantastic escape from every- day living. I love to take an idea and start developing a story and characters around it, and I love to see where it takes me! If I am lucky enough that an audience likes it and reads it, then that really is the ultimate thrill!

  • When did you decide to become a writer?

It was not a conscious decision. I have written since I was a child, and I am now 46! But when I decided to write Dead Camp, when the idea became so powerful and would not let me sleep, I decided that I would do everything in my power to get a publisher and get the work into as good a situation as possible. And it worked! Extasy books have been fabulous.

  • What genre are your books?

Supernatural, paranormal, horror, gay, a general sprinkling of erotica, conspiracy, history. Have I left anything out?

  • What draws you to this genre?

I have always loved supernatural/paranormal books, LOVED Twilight, LOVED the True Blood books, and that sent me off wanting to do my own spin on that genre. Plus I have always wanted to write a Vampire story, but one that changed the conventions, and hopefully does something a bit different with the genre.

  • What made you decide to sit down and actually start something?

I had an idea and it would not let me sleep. The idea grew and grew and I knew it would take a number of books to see it through, so I had to write it. I started Dead Camp to see where it would lead me, and now I know exactly where it is going and how the very last page of the series will look. I’m so excited about it that it stops me from sleeping because I keep seeing bits of it in my head. It’s an obsession, as is writing in general I think.

  • Do you write full-time or part-time?

Part time. I have an Interior Design business in Cardiff called Home Zone Design, with my fabulous business partner Jayne, so that takes up all my working days sadly. If I could walk away from that and write all day I would, but sadly we cannot afford to hire anyone so that isn’t going to happen lol!

  • Do you have a special time to write or how is your day structured?

I try to do a couple of hours a night and I try to do as much as I can on days off. However, my debut novel Dead Camp has just gone live on extasy books and Amazon and all my time has been spent doing social media stuff and trying to get the book out there, so I have been a bit lack of late!

  • How do you think you’ve evolved creatively?

Not sure about that. I do think my writing has improved dramatically over this process, my editors at extasy have been fantastic! I’ve always had a pretty active imagination, and this series is pushing that to the limits and I love it. The one thing that does happen when you write it that the more you do it, the better you become, and the more ideas you have!

  • What have you written?

Dead Camp is my first published work. I have written loads over the years, lots of bad stuff, lots of screen plays. I have a file full of half-finished things and ideas that I am looking forward to getting back to once the Dead Camp series is finished. While to go there yet though lol.

  • Do you work to an outline or plot or do you prefer just seeing where an idea takes you?

I start from a rough outline, and before I start writing I always know where I need each character to go and where the story needs to go. Dead Camp is going to be a big series, possibly 6 books, and I know exactly where each one will be, start, end, and how each one affects the next, and I know exactly how it ends.

  • How do you market your books?

Facebook, twitter, Goodreads, yahoo groups. That is my main thrust at the moment and believe me it all takes a lot of doing. How effective it is I don’t know yet, I am a very small fish in a very, very large sea.

  • Is there any marketing technique you used that had an immediate impact on your sales figures?

Facebook. As soon as I announced the publication of the book, people were buying it. Also, because I am lucky enough to have a fantastic publisher in extasy books, they also sell it from their website, and they have a huge following, so hopefully at some point that will kick in.

  • What advice would you give to aspiring authors?

Never give up. Keep writing, even if it’s bad, because you will improve. If you have an idea, go with it. Don’t get sidetracked either, as I am now lol. You have to write all the time, to develop your style and your skills. Never take ‘NO’ as the final answer. I was refused by every agent in the Readers & Writers Handbook, but just when I thought there was no point in going on, I approached six publishers directly and within three weeks I had three offers.

Sadly, no-one is going to do it for you, so you have to do it for yourself!

  • Give us an insight into your main character. What does he do that is so special?

Eli is so arrogant and so self-assured, that you can’t help but love him. It’s not so much what he does that is special, it’s the horror he has been through. He has been through so much that you would think it could not get any worse. But as Dead Camp begins, it does get worse, and his history unfolds through the books to the point where you really need something good to happen to him. He thinks his arrogance and his sexy attitude can get him through it all, but he discovers that nothing is further from the truth.

  • Where do your ideas come from?

The strangest of places. Dead Camp came to me while watching a World War two film. Documentaries on the Discovery channel also fuel my imagination. Also, there are a couple of future books I would like to write inspired by some terrible nightmare I had as a child that have always stayed with me.

  • What is the hardest thing about writing?

Getting the time to write!

  • What was the hardest thing about writing your latest book?

Finding someone to take it seriously and publish it. Agents didn’t want to know. Three publishers did straight away.

  • Who is your favorite character in your book and why?

Eli, because he is so naughty and I would love to be him!

  • Who is your least favorite character and why?

Melek. He is so bad that you can’t help but love him. Not all evil is as dark as you think.

  • What is your next project?

Dead Camp book two out so I am trying to get the third one written as we speak!

  • Who is your favorite fictional character and why?

Count Dracula. I have read that book so many times I can almost recite it! He is not strictly evil, and I think in the end he just wants to be loved. That feels as relevant today as it did when it was first written.

  • What one person from history would you like to meet and why?

Judy Garland. I’m gay, need I say more?

  • If there was one thing you could do to change the world, what would it be?

End poverty.

  • Who is your favorite author?

Charlaine Harris

  • What is one thing you hate about being a writer?

That I have to work in a shop in order to survive instead of writing all day lol.

    Thank you, Sean!  That was outstanding.  Now I can’t wait to read your story.  More about Dead Camp below….

RC

Blurb

Eli is an ancient vampire with an ego the size of a planet and a sex drive to match, but his tumultuous past left him broken, so he hides from humanity and cowers from love, left to endure the crushing guilt that haunts his every waking moment. Even his best friend Malachi, a ghost who is hopelessly in love with Eli, remains unaware of all that transpired in London. Malachi can never know the truth.

When the Angel Daniyyel pays an unwelcome visit, Eli must face his secrets, secrets that he has tried so long to hide. To make matters worse, a chance encounter with the most beautiful man he has ever seen shatters his beloved isolation, pushing him into the world of the living once more. Something about this strange man seems so familiar, but Eli can’t even remember who he was before he became a vampire, never mind explain the unwanted emotions the enigmatic stranger ignites in his dead heart. So Eli has a choice—return to the world that ruined him, or continue his self-imposed exile with no hope of salvation.

 

Pages or Words: 87,422 words, 260 pages

Categories: Dark Themes, Erotica, Fiction, Gay Fiction, Historical, Horror, M/M Romance, Mystery, Paranormal, Romance, Vampires/Demons, Thriller

Excerpt:

Three prisoners had died in my block that night, two elderly and one young man not old enough to grow pubes. It sickened me. Never, in all my years, had I witnessed such a callous waste of human life. And then to see my fellow prisoners undressing the dead, striping their cold stiff bodies before my unbelieving eyes horrified me even more, and I clung onto Jakob’s broken body for dear life. All around me the clunk of bodies against wood and concrete. My eyes tried not to see and my ears tried not to hear.

A cold clammy hand gently caressed my arm and I nearly shot off my shelf in shock. I didn’t scream. I refused to scream.

“My friend, I’m sorry, my friend, but you must undress him. The rubbish men will be here soon and you must strip him of all clothing before they take him. Please, you must do this for him—they will be less kind than you. Do you understand?”

“Why? Why must we do this?”

“His clothes are of value, my friend. They will be re-used for the next intake.”

“And what of his body, what will become of Jakob?”

“You don’t want to know, my friend.” His whispered words made every hair on my body stand on end. A sound outside caused him to return to his unsavoury task with renewed urgency. “Quickly, they are here.”

What followed felt like a dream. I had undressed many a man under many circumstances, but that was a first. Already poor Jakob stiffened, and it pained me to hear and feel his bones crack as I gently prised his pale thin body from the clothes. I whispered my apologies into his unhearing ears and I hated my eyes for glancing across his pale dead flesh.

I had to free them, all of them. That place, that death camp, it had to end.

I lifted his dead naked body into my arms. Emotion, so alien to me, invaded the shrivelled blackness that was my soul, and I knew my eyes betrayed my grief. Emotions made you weak. Emotions made you vulnerable, emotions hurt. And I was hurting. The passing of that human, that mortal man I had known for less than a day, had brought back that affliction from which I had been running from for so very long.

I had only opened my heart to the world again but for the briefest of moments. And already I felt pain.

Gideon hurt me. He made me feel unloved, unwanted, he made me feel ugly. How I would crave for his touch, how desperate I was for his love, to feel the thrill of his fingers upon my bare flesh, to feel his attraction to me, to feel wanted. But all he ever did was refuse me. Every time I tried to touch him, he turned me away. He was not in the mood, he told me to come back later.

Come back later.

But later never came.

I carried that pale body into the grey wet misery of morning. The sun was trying desperately to penetrate the thick layers of brooding clouds that clung stubbornly over the camp, but the sun was losing. Rain dripped incessantly from the skies, melting the remaining snow into a muddy slush. Grey skies, grey ground, grey people. The camp drained the colour out of everything. Welwelsburg was like me, a vampire, sucking the life out of everything it encountered, sucking away hope and dignity, leaving nothing but pale grey husks clinging to the brink of existence.

Two men stood next to a large flatbed trolley. Dead, naked bodies lay crumpled in a pile on top of the trolley, legs and arms sticking out at all angles like some grotesque starfish. I saw children amongst the corpses.

Pale white flickering figures surrounded the trolley. Insubstantial wisps of lives spent before their time. The rubbish men looked at me expectantly but I could not move for the sight of those spectral beings and I clutched Jakob’s dead body tightly to my chest, unwilling to relinquish my charge. If I put him on that trolley then he would be dead, another lump of cold meat on the pile. He deserved more than that.

The ghostly figures turned to look at me, each one knowing me, seeing me, seeing me see them. And they smiled at me. Cold shivering prickles erupted across my skin as their eyes took me in and they were such kind eyes, such trusting eyes. A figure pushed its way between them, its shadowy form brushing gently against the others as it came to stand before me.

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Meet the author:

I think that as I approach that milestone that is fifty, I must be one of the oldest gamers on the face of this earth. Many a day you will find me lashed to my PS4 enjoying a good session of Skyrim. Who doesn’t love a good session of Skyrim?
I love writing—I have done it since I was a child when I would happily write about the latest episode of Doctor Who (Tom Baker in those days) in my schoolbooks. Growing up and becoming a business owner with my friend Jayne left little time to pursue my dream of publication, but of late the desire and the compulsion to put words onto paper have once again dominated my life so that now, my laptop has become surgically fused to my fingertips.
There is something desperately satisfying about telling a story. My fascination with History, Religion and Conspiracy theories have, in this instance, gone hand-in-hand with my love of all things vampire, fantasy, sci-fi and horror. I drove my parents nuts when I was young because that was all I would read about in books, all I would watch on television, but they have held me in good stead, and long may my obsession with the subjects continue, at least, that is, until the day they put me in my own wooden box. And imagination is such a wonderful thing. I once had a rather vivid dream about David Tennant and the Tardis console, but I could not possibly go into details about that here. Let’s just say that my polarity was well and truly reversed.
Dead Camp is just the beginning. I have to check my knickers every day at the thought that this book is now in the public domain. My first book, and I hope the first of many. And to those out there who love to write, who love to transport us to new worlds, or old worlds with a twisted perspective, I say to you keep going. I never thought I would ever see my work available to download, and thanks to eXtasy Books, the dream that I always thought unobtainable has finally come true. So thank you all at eXtasy, I am one happy homosexual thanks to you, and thank you the reader for taking the time to read this strange tale and allowing Eli and the incomparable Malachi into your lives.
And now I really need Skyrim.

Where to find the author:

 


Tour Dates & Stops:

29-Mar: Full Moon Dreaming, Velvet Panic, BFD Book Blog

5-Apr: Rednecks and Romance, Jessie G. Books, Hearts on Fire, The Dark Arts

12-Apr: Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents, Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words

19-Apr: Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews, Inked Rainbow Reads, Emotion In Motion, Book Lovers 4Ever

26-Apr: Bonkers About Books, Divine Magazine, Nephy Hart, The Hat Party

3-May: My Fiction Nook, MM Book Escape, Bayou Book Junkie

10-May: Dawn’s Reading Nook, Cathy Brockman Romances, Unquietly Me

17-May: Kirsty Loves Books, The Novel Approach

24-May: Elisa – My Reviews and Ramblings, Havan Fellows

31-May: MM Good Book Reviews, Making It Happen, Love Bytes

7-Jun: Happily Ever Chapter, Alpha Book Club

14-Jun: Molly Lolly, A.M. Leibowitz, Outrageous Heroes

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