In Our New Release Spotlight: Something’s Brewing at Joe’s by S.J.D. Peterson (exclusive excerpt and giveaway)

Something’s Brewing at Joe’s by S.J.D. Peterson
Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: Reese Dante

Available for Purchase at Dreamspinner Press

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to host S.J.D. Peterson’s tour for Something’s Brewing at Joe’s.  The author has brought by an exclusive excerpt for everyone so enjoy!

 

Something’s Brewing at Joe’s

The promise of a dream job lures Murphy to Tampa, but he arrives to the rude awakening that the offer is on hold. Now he’s got two choices: slink back to Michigan with his tail between his legs or stay and look for work. Things perk up when he goes into a coffee shop and learns the owner is looking for someone to renovate the apartment above it. He happily takes the job, only later realizing he’s met Joe Sterling, Kaffeinate’s proprietor, before… when they hooked up at a club Murphy’s first night in Tampa.

Murphy and Joe are both proud, passionate, and outspoken. Neither is looking for a relationship, though they can’t deny they go together as well as coffee and doughnuts, in spite of their tempers. But that’s before Joe learns Murphy will be working for the corporation he believes is harming local businesses and the environment—and if Murphy will be supporting it, Joe wants nothing to do with him, dooming any possibility of an unexpected happy ending.

Exclusive Excerpt

When Murphy re-entered in the kitchen a few minutes later, Joe was finishing up the dishes. He looked over his shoulder at Murphy and smiled. Joe didn’t ask who Murphy had been talking to, but the curiosity was clear as day on his face.

“That was Donna Cohen from Barton Marlow Corporation.” Murphy took his seat at the island and picked up his beer. He held up the bottle. “Here’s to going from no job to two.”

“Barton Marlow Corporation?” Joe turned to lean against the counter and dried his hands as he stared strangely at Murphy. “The contracting company here in Tampa?”

“Yeah.”

“Why are they calling you?” Joe frowned.

Murphy grinned. “About my job. It’s why I’m in Tampa. I thought I was going to have to run back to Michigan with my tail between my legs. Now I won’t have to. Yay, me!” Murphy tipped back his beer and took a big gulp. He felt better about his decision than he had in days. This may just work out after all. Poor Mama, she was going to have to get used to the empty nest.

Murphy was shocked when Joe crossed his arms over his chest, his face contorted into an angry sneer. “Murphy, you are not seriously considering taking a job with BMC?”

Murphy blinked, surprised by Joe’s reaction. “Not only considering it, but have committed to it. I have to be at Calm Winds Resort at six in the morning.”

Joe gaped. “What? You do know who they are working with, don’t you? Who owns that resort?”

“Yeah, Fields, Fields, and Cohen.” Murphy frowned when Joe’s face turned an ugly shade of red. “What the hell’s wrong with you, Joe?”

Joe laughed. It sounded strangled and a little hysterical. “Oh. My. God.” Joe threw up his hands and stalked out of the room.

Murphy jumped up and followed him. “What the matter with you?”

Joe didn’t answer the question. He stomped to the front door and threw it open. “I think you should leave.”

Murphy froze. “What?”

Joe glared at him. “You heard me. You need to leave.”

“What’s got you so pissed?”

Joe scowled, his chest rising and falling rapidly. When Murphy continued to stare at him, dumbfounded, Joe pointed. “I said, get the fuck out.”

Murphy had no idea what was going on, and apparently Joe wasn’t going to clue him in. Well, that was fine. If Joe wanted to be an asshole, Murphy could be one too.

“Fuck you very much for dinner,” he spat and brushed past Joe. He jumped when the door slammed behind him. Murphy spun around and gaped at the closed door. Obviously, Joe’s unexpected rage had something to do with the company that had hired Murphy. But the fact that Joe had aimed his dislike of a company at Murphy pissed him off to no end. Not caring if Joe was watching, Murphy shot a one-finger salute toward the front door before spinning on his heel.

Murphy would finish the job he’d agreed to do at that apartment. He wasn’t going to be the same kind of asshole Joe was, even if the man deserved it. When he wasn’t working, he’d spend his free minutes and find a permanent place to stay. Screw Joe. Or rather, someone else could, because Murphy wouldn’t be touching or talking to the bastard again.

Want to know what happens next?

Check it out HERE

Meet Jo Peterson

SJD Peterson, better known as Jo, hails from Michigan. Not the best place to live for someone who hates the cold and snow. When not reading or writing, Jo can be found close to the heater checking out NHL stats and watching the Red Wings kick a little butt. Can’t cook, misses the clothes hamper nine out of ten tries, but is handy with power tools.

FACEBOOK | WEBSITE | TWITTER | GOODREADS

AUTHORS AMAZON PAGE

Giveaway

The author is graciously giving away one copy of any ebook copy from her back list to one lucky reader.  Leave a comment along with your email address where you can be reached if chosen.  Must be 18 years of age to enter.  Giveaway ends July 8th at midnight.

BLOG POST Two-Man Advantage by Leigh Carman (exclusive excerpt)

Two-Man Advantage (Players of LA #3) by Leigh Carman
Dreamspinner Press

Available for Purchase at

Amazon

iBooks

Kobo

B&N-

Dreamspinner

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to  host Leigh Carman today on her Two-Man Advantage tour.  She’s brought along an exclusive excerpt for everyone to enjoy!

 

Blurb

A hockey star skating on the edge of a catastrophe.

A PR specialist so adept, he’s called “the Fixer.”

Working together will be the biggest challenge of both their careers.

The LA Vikings hockey team is fed up the violent outbursts of its huge, intimidating enforcer, Viktor Novak. Hounded by a homophobic and domineering father, Viktor takes out his frustrations by spilling blood—on and off the ice. Now he has one last chance to clean up his image, or his career is over.

That’s where Bowen Miller comes in.

Bo has taken on the hardest cases and succeeded—by micromanaging every aspect of a client’s life—at the expense of his own happiness. But in the stubborn, hot mess that is Viktor, Bo might have met his match—both in and out of the bedroom. One man is out of control, and one controls everything. But when sex and attraction come into play, those roles are open to negotiation.

Exclusive Excerpt

Vik and Bo’s first encounter

Bo

When Vik doesn’t move, I take a closer look. I know what I’m seeing; I just don’t believe it. No fucking way. His lightly stubbled face is flushed, nostrils flaring wide. His light blue irises are nearly gone, eclipsed by enormous dark pupils. Vik’s full red lips are slick, and I can see the restraint in his clenched jaw, his twitching muscles, all of them jumping as he fights his primal urges.

He wants me. Viktor Novak wants me.

“That picture in your office,” Vik says, his voice a low, seductive rumble that vibrates straight to my cock. “The one of the football player, Van Archer.”

Wait, what?

Now I’m the one who tenses up, once again ready for a fight with the exhausting Viktor Novak. Maybe what I’m reading as desire on Vik’s face is actually hostility. Maybe I’m only seeing what I want to see when in reality, there’s nothing there.

“What about it?”

“He’s gay.”

“He is,” I answer, bracing myself for an almighty argument.

Vik nods. He begins to say something, and then his mouth snaps shut as he hesitates. More curious than cautious, Vik presses on. “Are you?”

“Does it matter?” I snap, every one of my defenses at the ready. It’s no secret I’m gay. I don’t hide my sexuality, but I don’t announce it when I meet people either. If Vik wants to come at me, he’s going to get a knockdown, drag-out fight.

Vik shifts closer, splaying an immense hand on the stone countertop on either side of my waist. Intimidated by his sheer size and proximity, the fight drains out of me, and I lean back, the unforgiving granite pressing painfully into the base of my spine, making me acutely aware that this man has the ability to hurt me quite seriously any time he chooses. The fact that he could so easily dominate me physically unexpectedly turns me on so much my dick is suddenly harder than the granite surface I’m trapped against.

What the hell? I dominate, I don’t submit. So why am I rock hard and leaking like a faucet at the thought of Vik overpowering me?

“It matters to me,” Vik murmurs, his gaze dropping to my mouth before returning to my eyes.

The way Vik answers allows me to exhale, letting go of some of my fear. My initial assumption was correct. The man before me isn’t angry, he’s… hopeful.

I inhale a shaky breath and swallow. “Yes. I’m gay.”

For the briefest of seconds, Vik’s gaze widens, and a spark of desire flashes in his bright blue eyes. Then so many things happen at once, I have no time to process it all. Vik’s heavy lids drop to half-mast and he closes the remaining space between us, pressing the hot, hard length of his body against mine. Two strong, masculine hands grip either side of my head, fingers long enough to curl around the base of my skull, and Viktor Novak, star hockey player and noted brawler, lowers his face to mine and kisses me.

Sensory overload hits, and I’m frozen in place. Hot skin covered in tattoos, the faint taste of mint toothpaste, the warm scent of Viktor, the feel of his rough hands on my clean-shaven face—all of it combines to render me completely useless as his lips move over mine. It’s only when Viktor boldly thrusts his stiff cock against my groin, grinding it against my own rigid length as he simultaneously swipes his tongue across my mouth, that I wake up and get with the program.

Vik slides that wet tongue over my lips again, more insistent this time, and I can’t help but groan, opening my mouth as heat builds at the base of my spine. Vik takes advantage of my parted lips, immediately plunging his velvet tongue deep into my mouth. I release the countertop and wrap my hands around his backside, grabbing two big handfuls of those spectacular, rock-hard glutes, and tug him closer, smashing our erections together.

“Oh fuck,” Vik breathes against my lips. Those two little words nearly have me coming in my pants. I’ve never been so out of control in my life. The threads of reality unravel around me, spinning away as raw instinct takes over my conscious behavior. No twink hookup has ever incited this type of reaction from me. I’m wanton, willing, and completely uninhibited. Out of control. It’s frightening yet… freeing.

Viktor’s hands leave my skin, and I whimper from the loss of contact, leaning forward to chase that delicious mouth. When Vik’s thick fingers begin pawing desperately at my clothes, shoving the custom-fitted jacket down my arms to land on the floor then moving to unbutton my shirt, I realize his intentions. In a flash, I begin to eagerly assist Vik in shedding my clothes, yanking my silk tie loose and sliding it off my neck.

Halfway through undoing my dress shirt, Vik growls and loses patience with the dozen tiny pearl buttons. With one swift tug, he tears open the front of my shirt, buttons pinging off the kitchen cabinets and skittering across the hardwood floors. My cuffs are still fastened by a pair of platinum cuff links, so now my shirt is inside out, hanging from my wrists, and I can’t get my hands free. Vik either doesn’t notice or could care less. In the blink of an eye, he has my slacks unzipped, shoves his hand in, and takes my aching cock in his scorching hot palm.

“Jesus, Vik,” I rasp, my chest heaving. The touch of his hand on my dick is blistering hot and so fucking good, but much too brief. Vik lets go of my cock, and I panic. “What? Why are you—?”

My question dies in a strangled moan as I watch Vik shove down his own sweats and underwear, not even bothering to pull them all the way off. Instead he hooks them under his huge, tight sac, lines up our cocks, and wraps a calloused hand around both of our rigid lengths. Vik squeezes them together and my eyes roll back in my head. I struggle to free my arms, desperate to touch this man and his gorgeous, thick cock. Vik lets out a low growl when I fight the fabric binding my hands. His eyes flash, and quick as a whip, he reaches behind me, grabs the remains of my shirt, and twists it around his free hand until my wrists are tightly bound at the base of my spine, trapped by a pair of cuff links.

I want to struggle, to shout and kick until I can get my hands free. To demand my freedom so I can take charge of the encounter. But Vik ignores any effort I make to unbind my hands. He gives me a dark, lust-filled look and waits until I stop fighting and calm down. Once I’m still, Vik keeps his eyes locked on mine and spits obscenely into his palm before lowering it to stroke our cocks in tandem. At that moment, any fight left in me dies, superseded by the unbelievable pleasure of Viktor’s talented hand and the feel of his sculpted body against mine. It’s uncomfortable to give in to someone, to willingly let Vik overpower me, and part of me is still freaking out. My sexual partners are always smaller than me for a reason. I just can’t let go of that damn need to control everything and everyone. It’s my experience that when you have no power, you get hurt.

“Let it go,” Vik whispers as if reading my mind, all the while continuing to stare into my eyes as his hand speeds up between us. The friction of Vik’s slick, rough palm, the sensation of his smooth cock rubbing against mine, is sublime. But with the nagging need to free my hands still plaguing me, I can’t enjoy his talented touch to the fullest.

“I see your brain working to figure out how to take charge,” Vik says. He gives me a dark look, those sensual lips curling into a wicked smirk. “You can’t take control here, Bowen. I won’t let you. You can’t get away either. I have you at my mercy.” He leans in to growl in my ear. “I can do anything I want to you.” Vik’s husky, dominating voice reverberates through my body, making my cock impossibly harder. “Let go and enjoy the ride, Bowen, because I plan on blowing your goddamn mind.”

To find out what happens next, check out Two-Man Advantage

About the Author

Leigh Carman is the pen name for the M/M romances written by bestselling Contemporary romance writer, Heather C. Leigh.

She lived outside Atlanta for 15 years and recently moved to Houston with her husband, 2 kids, and French bulldog.

She is leaving explicit directions in her will for her friends to discreetly scatter her ashes around Fenway Park. Then they are to sit back, watch a game with a beer and a Fenway frank and have a wicked good time.

Twitter- @heatherleighauthor

Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/LeighCarmanAuthor/

Website – http://heathercleighauthor.com/leigh-carman-novels/

In Our Romance Spotlight: Love and Other Hot Beverages by Laurie Loft (giveaway)

Love and Other Hot Beverages by Laurie Loft
Riptide Publishing

Cover art by L.C. Chase
Available for Purchase at Riptide Publishing

 

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to host Laurie Loft here today on her Love and Other Hot Beverages tour.  Welcome, Laurie!

✒︎

 

I’m Laurie Loft, author of Love and Other Hot Beverages. Welcome to my blog tour, and thanks for being here! I’m excited to give out super cool prizes to two people who make thoughtful comments to any of my blog posts: one French press (an item which features prominently in my novel), and a $15.00 Starbucks gift card. Either way, you’ll enjoy plenty of hot beverages!

There’ll be seven posts in which I’ll discuss my book as well as unrelated items. Comment, and we can get to know each other a little better.

About Love and Other Hot Beverages

After a rough breakup, Todd Addison wants time alone to grieve. While still dreaming of winning back his ex’s love, he moves across the country and finds work with a construction company. The last thing he needs is the cute office boy developing a crush on him, especially since he’s back in the closet.

Sebastián Nye can’t help feeling sorry for the obviously brokenhearted Todd. Though rebuffed repeatedly, Sebby chisels away at Todd’s resistance, determined to help him forget—a task potentially beyond anyone’s capabilities. He never meant to fall for the poor guy, but he does. Hard.

Desperate to hold on to Todd, Sebby hatches a sneaky plot guaranteed to end Todd’s heartbreak—if Todd doesn’t bail and ruin everything. Just when things can’t get more complicated, Todd’s ex wants him back. And Sebby’s abusive ex is just waiting to catch Sebby alone. Todd and Sebby must decide what’s worth fighting for, what’s worth sacrifice, and what’s worth compromise, or their relationship will begin and end with a broken heart.

Love and Other Hot Beverages is now available from Riptide Publishing.

About Laurie Loft

Laurie Loft lives in Iowa, endeavoring to write stories to give you that rush. Her husband, cat, and dogs kindly tolerate this odd activity. Her first M/M novel came about because of a minor character in a straight romance who just took over and demanded his own book. Laurie enjoys NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) and other forms of writerly torture. She finds inspiration in her NaNo friends and her fellow Riptide authors. When not writing or working at her mysterious day job, she can often be found screaming at tangled cross stitch threads.

Connect with Laurie:

Website

Blog

Twitter: @Laurie_Loft

Giveaway

To celebrate the release of Love and Other Hot Beverages, one lucky winner will receive a $15 Starbucks gift card and a French press from Laurie! Leave a comment with your contact info to enter the contest. Entries close at midnight, Eastern time, on July 8, 2017. Contest is NOT restricted to U.S. entries. Thanks for following the tour, and don’t forget to leave your contact info!

Release Blitz for Meg Harding’s Finding Home (excerpt and giveaway)

 

Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK
 
Length: 68,000 words
 
Cover Design: Garrett Leigh @ Black Jazz Design
 
Blurb
 

Jaden Matthews has never known his father or his father’s family, but he’s about to get a crash course on having siblings. With the recent passing of his grandmother, he’s discovered he has three half-brothers and part ownership of a gym. In Serenity, Florida. His life in New York has hit a rocky road, so maybe this is the vacation he needs to get things back on track.

Chase Michaels lost his future in a car crash almost ten years ago, and he’s made a new one for himself in Serenity. One that doesn’t include getting emotionally involved with people who are just passing through. But Jaden makes his common sense flee and his gut react. He’s got one month with the man who made him believe in taking a chance.

Excerpt

“Is everything all right?” asked a warm, very male voice from behind him. It sent a shiver racing down Jaden’s spine. Huh. That was weird.

He turned.

Standing on the shoulder of the road was a Calvin Klein model. He was taller than Jaden, probably some insanely genetically gifted six foot something, and his legs…. Jaden’s mouth might have watered a little. They were really long and very shapely. His jeans were molded to his thighs. His big, muscular thighs. Jaden swallowed heavily. His plain white shirt clung to an equally wonderful chest, outlining defined pecs and hinting at the type of abdomen Jaden watched porn to see normally. He was tan, with a chiseled jaw and high cheekbones, big, luscious pink lips. His eyes were hidden by his sunglasses, Ray Bans, and his hair was a silky ear length fall of chestnut.

Jaden had to wonder if he’d passed out in his car from the heat and this was all a fantastic hallucination. If the guy took his shirt off, that’d answer the question. 

Maybe he should cut back on the porn….

“You okay?”

He blinked. The guy’s shirt was still on. So this god was actually here to be his knight in shining armor. Wow. Too bad he was about to make himself look like a giant dumbass. “My car is out of gas,” he said. “And I don’t know where I am.”

The man smiled. He had dimples. Two of them. One in each cheek.

Jaden’s knees felt weak. Man, the heat was really getting to him. He leaned against his car for stability. Sweat was trickling down his neck, under his collar, and over his spine. When he licked his lips, Jaden tasted salt. So he was lost and grossly sweaty on the side of the road. Definitely the picture one wanted to present to the hottest man he’d ever seen in person.

“You’re on State Road 22, about ten miles outside of Serenity.”

Jaden’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding me, right? Ten miles? All this car needed to make it was ten more miles?” If he had a junk car like Mr. Hottie, he’d kick it in frustration, but he drove an Audi so he settled for stomping his foot. Unreal. He was so close to his destination.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you’re headed to Serenity, then?” asked the man, and he may have been beyond sexy, but the smirk on his face was starting to irritate Jaden. Jaden’s frustration wasn’t amusing, damnit.

“I am,” he said.

This got him a thorough head to toe evaluation from his potential rescuer. He straightened, trying to make his shoulders look broader. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to fix the sweat dampened mess. He felt like he had to be coming up wanting in this man’s judgment. In his ear, the operator asked, “Can I let you go now, or would you like me to keep wasting my time?”

He hung up on her. If he ended up dead, his ghost could haunt her.

“I can give you and your small horse there a lift to the gas station and back,” he offered, holding out his hand to Magneto, who cautiously walked toward him, black and white ears slicked to his skull and nose twitching. He’d never been a fan of strangers. It’d taken him weeks to get used to Drew, simply because Jaden had been the one to pick him up as a puppy from the shelter. Originally, Magneto was an intended birthday gift for Drew. Jaden’s plan backfired, but he couldn’t say he was sorry about it. As Jaden watched, Magneto tentatively sniffed the proffered hand and then his large tongue flicked out and left slobber in its wake. The man smiled and laughed, crouching to put himself face to face with Magneto. The next kiss landed on his cheek.

Jaden guessed that answered the question of if he could trust this guy. Obviously his dog did, and that probably meant something. “I’d appreciate it. Thank you,” he said. He shifted awkwardly. Should he offer to pay him for the assistance? Maye once they were at the station. Caution urged him to wait to reveal his wallet.

Just on the off chance Magneto was displaying poor judgment.

“You’re welcome.” He directed his blinding smile at Jaden, scratching behind Magneto’s big, floppy ears all the while. “I’m Chase Michaels. What’s this guy’s name?”

“Magneto.” Chase Michaels…. Why did the name sound vaguely familiar? Jaden couldn’t place it. He shook his head. It was probably nothing. “Like the X-Man.” He tacked the line on automatically now, to beat the other person to the inevitable question. Magneto trotted over at his name, abandoning Chase’s attention for Jaden. He rewarded him with an under the chin scratch. “And I’m Jaden. Matthews.”

Chase wiped his slobber coated hands down his jeans as he stood. Jaden winced. “Nice to meet you. Want to get going or do you need to get anything from the car first?”

“Let me grab his leash.” While he picked the leash up, he slipped his wallet into his pocket. He remembered at the last second to take his keys. Locking himself out would be the cherry on top of his day. He didn’t like cherries.

The first thing Magneto did when he jumped in the backseat of Chase’s car was drool all over the far window. Jaden stared at the smears in dismay. “I’m sorry,” he said, trying to head off any unpleasant attitude. “I’ll pay for you to get your car cleaned.” Drew had refused to allow Magneto in his car, and he’d always thrown hissy fits when Magneto smudged all the house windows trying to watch the squirrels outside play.

Jaden was a master window cleaner now. Maybe if he couldn’t get another accounting job, he’d switch to that. He could run his own company and do the the books for it.

But Chase laughed, not looking at all disgusted by the mess it had taken Magneto all of two seconds to create. “It’s fine,” he said. “I’ll roll them down for him.”

His car smelled like apples, and a discreet glance around found the culprit to be a smoothie sitting in the middle cup holder. It was a not so appetizing oatmeal color. He expected country music to come over the speakers, so he was pleasantly surprised to hear something else. Indie rock maybe? He’d never heard this song before, but the beat was good and the singer had a clear voice.

Should he make small talk and ask who this was?

“What brings you to Serenity?”

Author Bio

Meg Harding is a graduate of UCF, and recently completed a masters program for Publishing in the UK. For as long as she can remember, writing has always been her passion, but she had an inability to ever actually finish anything. She’s immensely happy that her inability has fled and looks forward to where her mind will take her next. She’s a sucker for happy endings, the beach, and superheroes. In her dream life she owns a wildlife conservation and is surrounded by puppies. She’s a film buff, voracious reader, and a massive geek.

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Giveaway

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Release Blitz for Force of Nature (Coming About #4) by J.K. Hogan (excerpt and giveaway)

Title:  Force of Nature

Series: Coming About, #4

Author: J.K. Hogan

Publisher:  Euphoria Press (self)

Release Date: 7/4/17

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 80,000 words

Genre: Romance, contemporary, adventure

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

Everyone knows that bonds formed under extreme circumstances never last.

Harbor Patrol officer Neal Hesse has had his life turned upside down by a sudden break-up with his partner of ten years. After sleeping his way through Seattle failed to take his mind off his broken heart, he decides to take a leave of absence from work to find himself again. He hires a professional wilderness guide to take him up into the mountains, so he can get away from everything and live off the grid for a few days.

Travis “Rock” McCreary, ex-Army Ranger turned survivalist, hates doing guided excursions, but it’s his primary source of income while he’s working towards getting his own survival show. Working in such a testosterone-fueled profession has forced him so deep into the closet, he feels like he might never see the light of day again, which makes it even harder to put on a friendly face for his happy, normal clients.

When Rock is hired by clumsy city-boy Neal to take him up into the North Cascades for a survival adventure, his patience and his resolve are tested at every turn. He has to teach Neal to survive in the wilderness while fighting an attraction he can’t allow himself to act on. When their trip doesn’t go as planned, Neal’s getaway turns into a true survival situation, and he and Rock are forced to rely on each other to stay alive. If they make it out of the wilderness, can their newfound connection survive in the real world?

Excerpt

Neal didn’t see how this was supposed to help take his mind off his ex because, as they trudged up the trail mostly in silence, he had nothing but time to think. Time to think about how he’d fallen for and spent years with a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He thought he’d been settled, that Tony was The One, that they had been on their way to growing old together. How wrong he’d been.

When the party reached an overlook at the highest point on the trail, they stopped for a panoramic view of the waterfall. Even Neal had to admit, with the sun streaming into the gorge and casting rainbows from the mist, it was a beautiful sight. It was still hard to drag himself out of his head, though. He knew his friends meant well, and they were right, of course. He needed to get up, get out, get back on the proverbial horse of life. But he didn’t wanna. He wanted to be at home on the couch moping, damn it.

He wished for that even harder when he saw the so-called trail that descended from the overlook to the foot of the falls where hikers could walk around or swim on warm-enough days. This trail was also steps, but natural ones of smooth, flat rock. It was narrow. Very narrow, and the lower part had a thin coat of slime from the water spray and mud. So it was fucking slippery.

When he’d almost made it to the flat riverbed, Neal lost his footing on a slick rock. He barely avoided taking a tumble—probably would’ve cracked his skull open—but he gained his balance again at the last moment. He breathed a sigh of relief when he stepped off that part of the trail. The falls dumped into a wide open part of the gorge, forming a broad pool that was bordered by a large, semicircular bank of river rock. There, day-hikers and tourists spread out on the rocks, picnicking, sunning themselves, or generally just taking in the scenery. Neal’s friends spread out to do their own thing.

Addison stalked off to the tree line with her cell phone, probably trying to get a signal so she could call her girlfriend. Bennett led Rory around the edge of the pond so they could get close to the actual waterfall. He was wearing a chest harness that held his Go-Pro, the action camera he usually kept on his boat. Rich and Paddy sat down on some large rocks and got out their trail snacks. And Nic Valentine, the crazy fucker, was wading in the frigid pool while Justice looked on, shaking his damn head.

Neal shivered just thinking about it. It was the tail-end of summer, so it was still quite warm, but these high lakes and rivers were always brisk, even on the hottest days. He’d been trained to withstand cold water temperatures for marine rescues, but that didn’t mean he had to like it, and he certainly didn’t do it for fun. Turning away from the splashing idiot, Neal looked around at all of the tourists and vacationers. Everyone had phones out, taking pictures, and he was sure they were tweeting and Instagramming like mad whenever they could find a bar or two.

He shook his head, then smirked and took his own phone out. “When in Rome,” he muttered. First, he snapped a picture with the reverse camera of himself with the waterfall in the background. Then he flipped the view so he could get a shot of the gorge. His frame wasn’t wide enough, so he took a few steps back, mindful of the rocks that became more slippery the closer he got to the falls.

His foot slipped and plopped down into water still cold enough to make him gasp, and right at the same time, he backed into something hard. Solid. Something alive. Neal winced when he heard an outraged cry and a splash behind him. Oh, fuck. Had he just…knocked someone into the water? He knew he needed to make sure they weren’t hurt or anything, but damn, he was afraid to turn around…because that had not felt like a small person.

Cautiously, he turned around and looked down, where he saw a man flailing around in the shallows of the pool. Once he got control of his feet, the man sprang up in the perfect kip-up. Neal cringed when he saw that his clothes and trail pack were completely soaking wet. And when he looked at the man’s face, he froze. His brain registered three things almost simultaneously: he looked vaguely familiar, he was very attractive, and he was really fucking mad.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” the stranger shouted.

He stepped forward so aggressively that Neal backed up, and his right hand went instinctively to his hip, where he would’ve put his hand on the stock of his service weapon—only there was nothing there because he was off duty.

Not wanting to seem like an equal aggressor, he covered the move by sticking his hand in his pocket, hoping to appear non-threatening. This guy was about his age and shorter by a few inches, but he was ripped. He looked rugged and whipcord strong and looked ready to kick some ass in a heartbeat. Neal might’ve been able to take him—he had him on height and weight, but the guy looked like he might be stronger…and a lot meaner. Neal really didn’t want to fight. That was a helluva lot of paperwork.

He held his arms out in front of him, both as a gesture of peace and to stave off an attack if that were to happen. “Man, I am so sorry. I didn’t realize anyone was behind me.”

“Clearly,” he growled, shrugging out of his pack. He unzipped it and started digging through it.

“Again, really sorry. If anything in your pack got damaged, I’ll reimburse you.”

He scowled at me. “This is a waterfall hike. I’m not an idiot. Anything of value is inside a dry bag.”

Neal bristled because the guy was basically calling him and everyone with him an idiot because they hadn’t brought dry bags. They’d just figured they could avoid, you know, falling in the water. Probably should’ve planned better, because if Neal hadn’t knocked into this guy, it would’ve been him in the water. But Neal had been the one to cause the fall, so he tried not to let his attitude get to him. “If you need a towel, I think one of my friends might’ve brought one.”

He sat down on a large, flat rock and pulled off his hiking shoes, probably to let them dry a little in the sun. His socks looked dry, so Neal assumed his footwear was waterproof. That also would’ve been a good idea, since Neal’s right sneaker was soggy as hell from stepping in the water.

The guy shook his head and didn’t make eye contact. “I’ve got more hiking to do. I’ll air-dry. Just try not to drown anyone, will ya?”

Neal’s eyes narrowed, and he fought a valiant battle not to tell the guy to fuck off. Instead, he fell back on his usual façade of charm and reached out a hand. “I’m Neal. Wish it had been under better circumstances, but it’s nice to meet you.”

His mega-watt smile, the one that had gotten him laid all the time when he was with Tony and before, bounced off this angry stranger like he had some kind of nice-guy force field. He glared at the proffered hand until Neal got the hint and put it back in his pocket. Just when he was about to say ‘fuck it’ and walk away, the guy mumbled, “Travis.”

“Pardon?” Neal asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Name’s Travis.”

“Well…Travis. It’s been a pleasure. I’ll get out of your hair.” About maxed out on politeness, Neal turned on his heel and started walking, stumbling slightly on the wet stones.

“Hey, Neal?”

He turned and looked at Travis. “Yeah?”

“You should stick to walking in the park or going to the gym. You don’t belong out here.”

Rage burned in Neal’s gut. He’d apologized profusely, and this guy just wouldn’t let it go. Where the hell did he get off? “The fuck did you say to me? I’ll have you know, I’m a police officer.”

Bennett had obviously picked up on the tone because Neal sensed his partner and Paddy creeping up on his flanks.

Travis’s eyes flicked back and forth between the three men, then he shook his head with a scoffing sound. “I’m just trying to give you some advice. It’s guys like you who come out here and fall down into the ravine because you don’t have the instincts to pay the fuck attention to where you put your feet.”

Neal lunged forward, but Bennett stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Nuh-uh. Walk away, Hesse.”

“But—”

“Nope.” Paddy started pulling him backward.

Travis spoke again, and the sound of his voice grated over Neal’s nerves like sandpaper. “I’m not just trying to be an asshole, although I’d be justified, considering.” He gestured down at his wet clothes. “But seriously, if you want to be all outdoorsy and shit? Get yourself some survival training, because you seem pretty fucking hopeless.”

Neal growled and lunged again, but was stopped by his two strong friends.

“Aaaand we’re done here,” Bennett said, as he and Patrick hauled Neal to the other side of the river where the rest of their group was waiting.

“Come on, just one swing!” Neal shouted over his shoulder. It was just for show because his pride was more bruised than he wanted to let on, but the boys kept a firm grip on him just in case.

Why the fuck did it matter that some asshole stranger thought he was incompetent? But Neal knew the answer to that—because his own boyfriend had as well. Tony had basically unmanned him by suggesting Neal’s career and choices didn’t matter, and now some random guy was telling him he couldn’t even wipe his own ass without help.

Neal seethed quietly all the way back down the trail. He’d never see that crazy fucknut again, but he’d be damned if he’d let the guy be right. So as soon as he got back, he booked himself on a survival excursion with a professional wilderness guide. That’d show that asshole. The one he would never see again.

Purchase

Euphoria Press (self) | Amazon

Meet the Author

J.K. Hogan has been telling stories for as long as she can remember, beginning with writing cast lists and storylines for her toys growing up. When she finally decided to put pen to paper, magic happened. She is greatly inspired by all kinds of music and often creates a “soundtrack” for her stories as she writes them. J.K. is hoping to one day have a little something for everyone, so she’s branched out from m/f paranormal romance and added m/m contemporary romance. Who knows what’s next?

J.K. resides in North Carolina, where she was born and raised. A true southern girl at heart, she lives in the country with her husband and two sons, a cat, and two champion agility dogs. If she isn’t on the agility field, J.K. can often be found chasing waterfalls in the mountains with her husband, or down in front at a blues concert. In addition to writing, she enjoys training and competing in dog sports, spending time with her large southern family, camping, boating and, of course, reading! For more information, please visit http://www.jkhogan.com.

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Amy Lane Sharing “too quiet” kid stories on her Manny Get Your Guy Tour (author guest post)

Manny Get Your Guy (The Mannies #2) by Amy Lane
Dreamspinner Press

Cover Art by Paul Richmond
Available for Purchase at:  Dreamspinner Press |  Amazon

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is so happy to have Amy Lane back again, this time sharing “too quiet” kid stories on her ‘Manny Get Your Guy‘ tour.  Welcome, Amy!

 

…too quiet… Part 3 by Amy Lane

So my last two posts in the tour have been “too quiet” kid stories—and seriously, most parents have a zillion of them. Somewhere in my archives I’ve got pictures of not one, but TWO little girls who thought it would be a laugh riot to get into mom’s makeup when they were bored. Squish’s picture has lipstick everywhere on her face. Chicken’s has mascara EVERYWHERE—right after her bath.  Never turn your back on them—something will attack.

But in a bustling household, sometimes, you just can’t be everywhere at once. And sometimes, little things get overlooked.

Our cable service provider is Comcast. I know—this doesn’t SEEM like it has anything to do with childcare, but bear with me.  Because in our neighborhood, we can have Comcast or Direct TV, and at one point in time—back when Squish was a baby and Zoomboy could fit in tiny places—we thought we were getting Direct TV.

The two bozos they sent to drill holes in our house and restring all our cables and generally screw up our entertainment system were not only not very bright—they were also not very FAST. They instilled maximum damage, but it took them nine hours of walking in and out of my relatively crowded, busy house in order to do it. And in the meantime, I had to make dinner and give baths and generally try to run my house while Mate said things like, “Do we HAVE to drill the hole?”

Anyway…

Around about hour seven, it got to be “too quiet.”

We were missing a kid. 

Strange people had been going in and out of our house all day and WE WERE MISSING A KID.

MANHUNT!

Lock the dog in the bedroom, the big kids were looking under the bed, in the closets, behind the shoes, Squish was clung to, on somebody’s hip, as the whole family wandered our 1000 foot square house with increasing panic, screaming ZoomBoy’s name.

WE COULDN’T FIND ZOOMBOY!

The panic.

Seriously.

The panic.

Mate ran a circle around the block, and we couldn’t find him.

He ran the half-mile, larger circle.

Nothing.

I got into the car and turned on my brights and tooled around the neighborhood. Holy God, my kid was missing, I was going to have to call the police, I was going to have to issue an amber alert, I was going to have to…

Slow down as I was pulling into my driveway because he was running out of the house looking really pleased with himself.

“Mom! Mom! I hid between the coffee table and the couch and NOBODY FOUND ME!”

I almost smacked my child in the face.

“Were… uh… were we uh playing hide-and-seek?” I asked, spots floating in front of my eyes.

“No. I just thought I’d hide.”

“Uh, okay, hon. That was, uh, special. Maybe next time, tell somebody we’re playing that game? Mom was really worried.”

“Okay. Where’d you go?”

“TO FIND YOU!”

“But I was in the coffee table!”

“I know that now.”

“Are you okay?”

“I need to go cry on Dad now.”

“Can the guys go?”

“Yes.”

“Are they done?”

“I don’t care.”

“Good. They’re loud.”

So, yeah. Too quiet.

Also, a lesson in how no matter how hard you try as a parent, you never have it nailed down. 

By the way—Direct TV? Didn’t work. We had no service for the first 48 hours and when we complained they told us we’d forfeit our deposit if we quit now.

We forfeited the deposit, fixed the hole in our wall, and never ever strayed from Comcast again.

And we made it a family rule that you could never, ever, ever start a game of hide-and-seek unless you told people that you were hiding first.

Yeesh… I have to admit, I feel bad giving Taylor four kids and chaos for this book. I mean, I survived it, but poor Taylor.

He’s not going to know what hit him.

It’s a good thing Brandon’s there to help.

Blurb

The Mannies

Starting over and falling in love.

Tino Robbins’s sister, Nica, and her husband, Jacob, are expecting their fifth child. Fortunately, Nica’s best friend, Taylor Cochran, is back in town, released from PT and in need of a job.

After years in the service and recovering from grave injury, Taylor has grown a lot from the callow troublemaker he’d been in high school. Now he’s hoping for a fresh start with Nica and her family.

Jacob’s cousin Brandon lives above the garage and thinks “Taylor the manny” is a bad idea. Taylor might be great at protecting civilians from a zombie apocalypse, but is he any good with kids?

Turns out Taylor’s a natural. As he tries to fit in, using common sense and dry wit, Brandon realizes that Taylor doesn’t just love their family—he’s desperate to be part of it. And just like that, Brandon wants Taylor to be part of his future.

Sequel to:

The Virgin Manny

Blurb:

The Mannies

Growing up and falling in love…

Sometimes family is a blessing and a curse. When Tino Robbins is roped into helping his sister deliver her premade Italian dinners when he should be studying for finals, he’s pretty sure it’s the latter! But one delivery might change everything.

Channing Lowell’s charmed life changes when his sister dies and leaves him her seven-year-old son. He’s committed to doing what’s best for Sammy… but he’s going to need a lot of help. When Tino lands on his porch, Channing is determined to recruit him to Team Sammy.

Tino plans to make his education count—even if that means avoiding a relationship—but as he falls harder and harder for his boss, he starts to wonder: Does he have to leave his newly forged family behind in order to live his promising tomorrow?

Available at:  Amazon

Blog Tour Dates:

June 24 – MM Good Book Reviews

June 27 – My Fiction Nook

June 28 – Open Skye Book Reviews

July 1 – Boy Meets Boy

July 3 – Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words  

July 5 – Love Bytes

July 6 – Long and Short Reviews

  

Sean Michael on Memories, Writing and his release ‘Making a Splash’ (author guest post and excerpt)

Making a Splash by Sean Michael
Dreamspinner Press

Cover Artist: Valerie Tibbs | Tibbs Design

Available for Purchase at

      
✒︎

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to have Sean Michael here today on his Making a Splash tour. Welcome, Sean!

✒︎

 

Thank you to Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words for hosting me today.

In Making a Splash, Austin is a natural diver. In fact, he’s at a public pool, showing off for his friends when Vince discovers him. He’s on the three meter board.

I can remember when I was around ten, I jumped off my first five meter platform. Thinking back on it, I’m surprised I actually not only made it up there, but then jumped given that I now have a crazy fear of heights. I don’t even like standing on a chair to reach for something at the top of bookcases.

However, this time I not only climbed, I also jumped. Now, I had never jumped from this high and no one had ever told me how I should do it. I remember jumping and going deep enough that my feet touched the bottom of the pool. I did push up but not very hard and I didn’t think I was going to break the surface in time to take the breath I needed. What a panic! I did not go for a second jump.

Of course, now I know that I should have spread my arms as soon as I hit the water and if I made it to the bottom, I should have pushed up hard. Live and learn.

I’m jealous of Austin and his ability to play so freely not only that high up, but doing tricks in the air at the same time.

Sean Michael

smut fixes everything

Blurb:

After a scandal of Olympic proportions, Vince Dawson lost his job as a diving coach and is on a downhill slide. So when he sees Austin Brody at a local pool, diving like a trained athlete, he thinks he’s found his ticket back to the big leagues.

Austin thinks Vince is crazy for wanting him to dive competitively. He dives for beer and smokes, while working double shifts as a welder. Still, he’ll give training with Vince a shot.

But Austin isn’t willing to let Vince rule his life, and Vince—used to hopeful young athletes folding under pressure from him—finds Austin baffling… and hot. Even if they can work together and become more than friends, they still have a long way to go before they’ll be ready to compete. 

Excerpt:

Vince stood as he watched the kid climb the ladder, moving to get a better viewing angle of the board, one that would also afford him an excellent position to see Austin’s entry. Man, the kid moved like he didn’t know it was challenging to swing all that height up on his hands on a springboard. A springboard. No one in their right mind did handstand dives on a….

Two twists. Two and a half somersaults and then into the water like a knife.

Jesus fuck.

Vince was headed for the water before he could say “I don’t follow diving anymore.” He pushed his way past the kids gathering around, eyes on the tall, skinny blond. “Who’s your coach?”

“Huh?” A big pair of green eyes met his. “I don’t play ball.”

“I sure as hell hope you don’t.” He nodded toward the diving board. “I’m talking about diving. No way you picked those moves up on your own.” No fucking way.

“Nope. Practiced ’em on the trampoline.” Austin hauled himself out of the water.

“All by yourself.” He didn’t follow diving anymore, Vince reminded himself. He was done.

“Yep. I like jumping. Hell of a rush.”

“Tell you what. You show me the toughest dive you know how to do, and I’ll buy you dinner.” With a captive audience and without all the other people trying to get a piece of the kid, maybe he could convince Austin that he was exactly what Austin needed in a coach. Or at least he could if he were still in the diving world. Which he wasn’t.

“Dinner like McDonald’s or dinner like shrimp and steak?”

He chuckled. Kid was smart too. He took a mental look at his bank account and wished he hadn’t.

“Like dinner anywhere you want.” After all, he didn’t follow diving anymore, wasn’t going to get back into coaching. But if he did? This was the person he’d want to do it with. It would be worth breaking the bank for.

“It’s a deal.” Austin held his hand out to shake.

About the Author

Best-selling author Sean Michael is a maple leaf–loving Canadian who spends hours hiding out in used book stores. With far more ideas than time, Sean keeps several documents open at all times. From romance to fantasy, paranormal and sci-fi, Sean is limited only by the need for sleep—and the periodic Beaver Tail.

Sean fantasizes about one day retiring on a secluded island populated entirely by horseshoe crabs after inventing a brain-to-computer dictation system. Until then, Sean will continue to write the old-fashioned way.

Sean Michael on the web:

Sean Michael on Characters, Writing and his release “A New Way To Dance by Sean Michael” (guest blog, excerpt and giveaway)

A New Way to Dance by Sean Michael

Add to Goodreads

Release Date: June 20, 2017
Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 65,000 Words | 262 Pages
Genre: Contemporary Gay Romance, M/M Romance, BDSM
Add to Goodreads

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to host Sean Michael here today. Welcome, Sean!

♦︎

Thank you to Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words for hosting me today!

The first character that came to me to ask for his story told for A New Way to Dance was Seth, the dancer. And I know exactly where he came from. I had seen a number of images of dancers, and several videos of male dancers doing their thing.

These guys are in such good shape – not an ounce of fat anywhere, muscles shown off to best advantage in skin tight leotards. Muscles that are being pushed as far as they can. On top of that, they’re interpreting the music, putting so much emotion into each move. It is a wonderful combination.

Every time I saw a picture or a video, the knowledge that I was going to have a character who was a dancer became deeper. Then suddenly there was Seth with this sad story of his nasty breakup and as soon as I had that, Brook came running to claim Seth as his own.

I hope you enjoy their story!

Sean

smut fixes everything

Excerpt:

“You’re sure I can’t get you anything to eat?”

“I haven’t exercised enough to. You won’t offend me if you eat, though. Honestly.”

“I’m not hungry yet—I had that cheesecake.” Brook tilted his head. “So how many calories a day do you eat?”

“I try to keep it under twelve hundred.” Not that it was any of Brook’s business. He averaged a thousand on days he didn’t exercise.

Brook looked at him like he was crazy. “You must be skin and bones.”

He wasn’t huge, he guessed. He answered with a long, steady look that was meant to tell Brook to back the fuck off.

Brook shook his head like he’d just got it. “Okay. Movie. What are you in the mood for?”

“What’s your favorite?” He felt a little embarrassed, a little silly for being here. It had been obvious that Brook had been interested when they’d met previously, but now… Seth was awkward.

“Oh, I could never just pick one.” Brook laughed. “Maybe if you picked a genre…”

“How about something campy and fun?”

“We could do the grandfather of campy and fun—Rocky Horror?”

“It’s just a jump to the left?”

They sang the next few verses together, Seth surprising himself with his laughter.

Brook pointed to the couch and he moved there while Brook found the movie and put it in the player. Then the man joined him.

He sipped his drink, shifting as he tried to find a comfortable spot.

Brook offered him a couple of pillows and he managed to get them adjusted to where he was mostly comfortable. And sort of leaning against his host.

“Sorry, is this okay?”

“I’m great, are you comfortable?”

He nodded. He was, very.

So comfortable, in fact, that he dozed off before Janet and Brad got to Frankfurter’s house.

Synopsis

Dancer Seth Avery has it all. He’s at the top of his game as a dancer and he’s in love with famous dance director Fayden DelMonaco, the man who is his sub. Seth’s whole world is turned upside down when Fayden dumps him in the nastiest and most public way possible. To compound matters, he’s in near fatal car crash shortly thereafter that leaves him severely injured.

Brook Turner is an ex-lawyer turned micro-brewer, baby-brother of Seth’s best friend Lizzie. The two met briefly before Seth’s accident, but it’s when they meet again six years later that they get a chance to act on the attraction they’d initially felt.

With Brook’s help, Seth begins to heal not only from his residual physical injuries, but also from the emotional ones inflicted by Fayden. Will it be enough to keep the two of them together?

Join Seth and Brooke as they find a new way to dance together.

Excerpt

“Did you see USA Today, man?” Julian plopped down, eyes wide. “Fayden is… Well, he’s not naming names, but…”

Seth looked at one of his oldest friends and arguably the best choreographer he knew and tried not to growl. “I saw.”

He saw. His brother saw. His mom saw. His neighbor. Fayden’s sister. Ernie at the fucking convenience store where he bought his daily diet energy shot saw.

“World-Famous Director Escapes from Abusive Sex-Slave Relationship! Says He Feared for His Life!”

Sex slave.

Christ.

Ten years they’d been together. He’d been nineteen when he’d met Fay. Nineteen and horny and amazed that a man almost twenty years his senior with money and power and the most beautiful eyes on earth would want a dancer in the chorus.

“It’s all lies,” Julian told him. “You should sue him.”

“Just drop it, Jules. It’s no big deal.”

Just a huge, life-changing, world-altering deal.

Julian’s eyebrow went up, the man not saying another word but still speaking volumes.

“What do you want me to say? I… I don’t have anything.” He had an apartment. The cops had let him take his car and computer—after they’d copied the hard drive for evidence.

Evidence.

Christ.

“Honey, I’m on your side here.” Julian hugged him.

“I know. I do. Thank God for that.” Who else would he have called from the jail? His lawyer was Fay’s. His friends were Fay’s. Julian was it. His saving grace.

“Come on out with me tonight. There’s a new bar that we haven’t ever been to—he won’t be there.”

“No. Not yet. I’m not going out right now. I need to recover.” Seth needed his space.

“You need someone to take the bad taste of that asshole out of your mouth,” Julian said.

Seth blinked, then started laughing, deep, full belly laughs that felt so good. God, this sucked so hard. “I caught him with another man. That new dancer. Dylan.”

Dylan was nineteen now. Ah, the irony.

“Shit, he’s old enough to be that boy’s grandfather!”

“Yeah. Well, you know…” Seth was going to lie down and die, simple as that. Okay, he wasn’t, but he was going to pretend to, mentally.

“You think we should warn Dylan what a predator asshole he is?”

“Poor, innocent, victimized Fay?” He shrugged. “You wait. I’ll stop getting jobs soon.” It was inevitable.

Julian shook his head. “That’s not fair.” Seth noticed that his friend didn’t say it wasn’t going to happen.

“Life’s not fair. I have to work out and head home. I have an audition for a music video in the morning.” Hopefully he’d make a good impression. It would be good to put some money in the bank before the jobs started drying up.

Julian hugged Seth tight. “If there’s anything I can do, honey…”

“I love you, honest. Maybe we’ll meet for brunch on Sunday? Somewhere new?” Somewhere the paparazzi and Fayden wouldn’t be.

“You got it. Text me the deets.”

“Absolutely.” He grabbed his coffee and headed out of the little coffee shop outside of the studio he’d rehearsed in most of his adult life.

He was going to lose that too, he’d bet. Everything was going to just disappear because Fay had decided to trade him in for a younger model and was doing it in the nastiest way possible. Seth could feel everyone staring at him, could hear people talking about him.

He couldn’t stand it anymore and it was only going to get worse.

“Hey. Seth. I…” Lizzie Bean came up, took his arm, the leggy dancer as tall as he was. They’d worked together a hundred times at least. “I don’t know what to say except that I love you, man, and people suck.”

He made this weird half-tickled, half-surprised sound. “They totally do. God, they do.”

“Come have supper with us? Mel is grilling chicken.”

Mel was an amazing cook. And it was tempting, being with people who wouldn’t look at him like he was a monster.

“Please. Come on. You look exhausted and I promise to just feed you foods with no real calories and ply you with wine.” She put her hand on his arm. “Please.”

“God, you’re so demanding.” Seth nodded, though, found a smile. “Let’s go.”

She beamed at him and slid her hand into the crook of his elbow when they started to walk. Lizzie and Mel lived not that far from the studio in a converted loft with the most amazing roof garden full of potted trees and flowering plants and several large raised areas where they grew vegetables.

Mel was big into farm-to-table cooking and tried to grow as much of his own produce as he could.

Lizzie told him a story about one of Mel’s nephews—the man had far too many nieces and nephews to keep track of—who had gotten a skateboard for his birthday and become the terror of the neighborhood.

Seth tried to laugh in all the right places. Every so often he’d catch sight of himself in a window, just the barest hint, and he’d sigh. He’d really thought Fay was his Mr. Right. They’d been into the same things, the chemistry had been off the charts, they were uber-compatible in bed…

Purchase

Evil Plot Bunny | Amazon

Meet the Author

Often referred to as “Space Cowboy” and “Gangsta of Love” while still striving for the moniker of “Maurice,” Sean Michael spends his days surfing, smutting, organizing his immense gourd collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by horseshoe crabs. While collecting vast amounts of vintage gay pulp novels and mood rings, Sean whiles away the hours between dropping the f-bomb and pursuing the kama sutra by channeling the long lost spirit of John Wayne and singing along with the soundtrack to “Chicago.”

A long-time writer of complicated haiku, currently Sean is attempting to learn the advanced arts of plate spinning and soap carving sex toys.

Barring any of that? He’ll stick with writing his stories, thanks, and rubbing pretty bodies together to see if they spark.

Sean’s available for interviews, by the way. He can always be talked into, well talking about himself. Just drop him an email.

 

Website | Facebook | TwitterPinterest

Tour Schedule

June 26 – Sue Brown’s Stories |  MillsyLovesBooks | Because Two Men Are Better Than One

June 27 – BFD Book Blog | Stories That Make You Smile

June 28 – The Really Naughty Corner | Happily Ever Chapter | Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews

June 29 – MM Good Book Reviews | Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words | Boy Meets Boy Reviews | Divine Magazine

June 30 – SiK Reviews | Dawn’s Reading Nook | Two Chicks Obsessed

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Erik Swill on Characters, Personal Experience and his story ‘Too Many Temples (World of Love)’ (guest blog)

Too Many Temples (World of Love) by Erik Swill

Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: Maria Fanning

Available for Purchase at

Dreamspinner Press

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to have Erik Swill here today on his Too Many Temples tour. Welcome, Erik, please tell us a little bit about yourself and your latest story.

✒︎

 

I am thrilled that my latest novella, Too Many Temples, is set to be published by Dreamspinner Press in June 2017. I’m also happy to have the opportunity to rant a little bit about myself here on Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words. And what better way to do so than to say just how dissimilar I am personally from the characters I write!

I have always found this curiosity on how much an author is like the characters they write to be odd. Usually characters are assumed to be manifestations of the author. Naturally, it is difficult for a writer to express him or herself without letting personal biases, prejudices and experiences flavoring the way we write. This applies even when creating a whole new world and a character that is supposed to be as far removed from ourselves as possible. After all, if the character is nothing like the author, then that means the act of penning this character used the author as the model in which to “other” it.

Many authors seem to be limited to creating characters that are based on themselves and follow a n event that happened in their life or someone close to them (or worse yet, something they saw on a Lifetime television movie and decided to give the story a queer twist to it). Some authors are good enough writers and have interesting enough lives that they can pull it off. Others less so.

I like to think that I have lived an interesting life as well! But I don’t like the idea of crafting a character based on something that happened in my life. I mean, I write fiction. Why shouldn’t I “make something up”??? I see that as a sort of standard for fiction writing anyhow. Write fiction, not your life story with different names for the characters.

Writing under other names, I have had readers (sometimes scarily so!) grill me to find out just how similar the protagonist and his actions are to my own life. I love it if readers enjoy the character I’ve written, but I never really understood the need to know how much it is based on my own life. In general, my stock reply is that the character is not based on me or anyone I know. I created them.

But … I also tend to write using settings and scenarios that I am familiar with. This is a blessing and a curse. Obviously, it reduces the amount of research I need to do if I already know the material and location(s) inside and out! But it also can be frustrating. If I do write a unique (read: crazy, off-the-wall, you’d-never-believe-it-if-you-didn’t-see-it) event into a story–something that I witnessed firsthand or something that happened to me–it runs the risk of being criticized for being unrealistic. A reviewer telling you that something that happened in your life that you inserted into your book isn’t realistic … when it DID actually happen like that in real life … well? [Throws slipper at laptop in outrage while cursing their ignorance] How else to respond?

But I digress. What I DO acknowledge is that my personal experiences very much so influence how I write my settings, scenarios and the characters’ reactions to the world around them. This is how I interpret the question “how much of you is written into your characters?”

I travel a lot. Sometimes because I have to but mostly because I can’t sit still for too long in one place. Call it a travel bug or some mental disorder–whatever it is, though, it works for me. Because when I travel, I am throwing myself into a set of scenarios that I would not otherwise come across. I’m pulled out of my comfort zone and need to consider how I would deal with the challenges that confront me. Later in retrospect, I can rethink my actions (or lack thereof) and reimagine how else I could have reacted in those situations if I were someone else … like one of my would-be characters. If one of those what-if scenarios sits well in my head, then a possible plot element is born or a potential character trait starts to develop.

Now I’m living in a country where I only speak a basic amount of the language. Ya, it’s still at a basic level from a complete lack of effort on my part. My bad. But while that limits me from some spheres, it also can lead to some pretty challenging situations. And that’s always good fodder for fiction. So while the specific turn of events or even content of the (failed) interaction are easily transferred to other cultural settings, the human element is very relevant. How did it make me feel when I really wanted low-fat vanilla almond milk in my coffee but the barista misunderstood what I had said and gave me low-fat regular milk instead? {Shock and horror] Still, that awkwardness in communicating across languages and/or cultures exists in so many different contexts. So I can, for example, apply my personal difficulty ordering food in one country and turn that into my protagonist’s frustration at trying to make a doctor’s appointment in another country where the protagonist and I have similar communication problems.

In my latest novella, Too Many Temples, the characters are from Australia and Bali (Indonesia), two countries that I do have a lot of experience in. They are also presented with the challenges of a potential long-distance relationship between two very different cultures–something else I have also had to deal with. Yet, the events in the novella are nothing at all like my experiences. Happily so at that!

All relationships have their problems. But when you add geographical, emotional, and cultural distance into the mix, it can get even more complicated. Especially when … oh, well maybe you will just have to read it to see how the characters handle this hook-up gone right, despite the mess it creates!

 Blurb

Looking to spice up his stagnant sex life in Brisbane, self-professed player Adrian takes a week-long vacation in Bali, anticipating sun, surf, and plenty of no-strings-attached hookups. He doesn’t expect his attraction to the tour guide, Ketut, to become an obsession. As he travels around the beautiful Island of the Gods, Adrian is startled that he might be falling in love after swearing off relationships for good.

When Ketut opens a window of opportunity for a real relationship in Queensland after the vacation ends, Adrian retreats into his life of commitment-free fun. Unable to forget about Ketut, though, Adrian strikes out to the rural Queensland town of Rockhampton to find the man of his desires—hoping he hasn’t lost the chance for true love.

 Excerpt

“The sea here is both beautiful and deadly. The color of the water and the temptation to walk out at low tide to the base of the temple… but when the tide comes in and you are left stranded out there, the currents are strong and poisonous sea snakes swim here in large numbers. It’s odd that something so beautiful can also be so deadly. Many people have died here.”

“So it is better to avoid it completely.”

Ketut thought for a moment before answering. “No, Adrian. That makes it all the more important to visit. That people have died to see something so beautiful, so holy, makes this even more special. Sometimes taking a risk can lead to a life-changing experience. Or at least one that you will never forget for the rest of your life. How long will you remember this moment, Adrian? Right here, right now?”

Adrian had been staring into Ketut’s striking eyes as he spoke. There was a depth to him that Adrian admired, something that he would never know based solely on their first encounter. For a moment, Adrian wondered how many of the guys who had served as one-off fucks for him over the years also had something more than a tight ass to offer him. But the thought was short-lived.

Ketut leaned in and pressed his lips lightly against Adrian’s, pulling back slightly after a brief kiss. Adrian refused to let go. He pushed his face forward to continue what Ketut had started. He wasn’t done. The moment was too immediate to settle for anything less.

About the Author

Erik Swill is a professional editor and a cheeky storyteller. He has spent half of his life living abroad and half of that time trying to convince friends that he is not an international fugitive or secret agent. He isn’t. Really. But it probably doesn’t help that he writes under several pseudonyms, moves house frequently, and rarely posts anything on his social media accounts. He has published short fiction in Gay Flash Fiction and erotica in the Nifty Archives. With his longtime partner, Swann O’Hara, he coauthored the novella Wild Goose. Erik likes to write contemporary fiction but will try any genre once. Because why not?

Twitter: @ErikSwill

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/people/Erik-Swill/100010350225984

Release Day Blitz for Nate’s Last Tango by Kevin Klehr (excerpt and giveaway)

Title:  Nate’s Last Tango

Series: Nate and Cameron, Book 2

Author: Kevin Klehr

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: June 26

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 30900

Genre: Contemporary, contemporary, gay, cisgender, cross-dressing, established couple, ghost, vacation

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Synopsis

Nate’s life couldn’t be better. He’s living with his rich boyfriend, Cameron, in New York while being wined and dined all over the city.

But when Nate decides to visit his friends back in Sydney, Cameron suggests they break it off for a while. Cam’s cross-dressing butler is not impressed, and with the help of his lesbian aunt, they drag Cameron down-under to sort out his relationship and take in the sights of Mardi Gras!

With Nate at a loss to what went wrong, he faces the dim reality that love may have run its course.

Excerpt

Nate’s Last Tango
Kevin Klehr © 2017
All Rights Reserved

“I’m nervous,” I said. But my boyfriend, Cam, didn’t hear me. Fortunately, his butler, Roger, did.

“Here you go, Nate.” The loyal servant placed a garishly green cocktail in my hand, complete with a little umbrella. “This will make you so chilled, the next few hours will feel like a hippie folk festival.”

If only that were the truth. I was about to meet Cameron’s parents for the first time, and both he and Roger were busy preparing canapés. They insisted I was as much of a guest as the others were, so I wasn’t to help with the catering.

Instead, I gazed out the window of my boyfriend’s swish New York apartment, trying to imagine what a middle-aged couple who had made their fortune in the funeral trade would be like. My first thought was something as creepy as an older Gomez and Morticia from The Addams Family.

And with that vision came a list of odd relatives I hadn’t met yet. Perhaps a short hunchback that rang church bells. An older brother who slept in the basement during the day and showed off his unusually sharp fangs to unsuspecting women at night. Or a haggard stepsister who kidnapped the neighborhood pets and offered them to pagan gods during midnight rituals.

I watched my boyfriend. He was trying to make art out of smoked salmon and flatbread, but somehow he kept adding too much mayo. The result was something that looked like a squeezed pimple rather than anything you’d put in your mouth. As always, Roger was at his side to fix his creations, and as a pair they worked well.

Through his chic designer glasses, Cam scrutinized what Rog was trying to show him, and he understood until his butler tucked, folded, or did whatever was necessary to make my boyfriend’s attempts look presentable. Although my man wasn’t perfect, that was the very reason I loved him. He’d try. And he had enough people around to support him. His parents had to be equally as supportive, surely.

Any moment they’d swan in the front door, having just flown in from Paris, where they had stayed the night because they’d decided to eat dinner in that romantic city on a whim. His mum, or mom as these Americans say, would offer me her hand adorned in a teal glove and wait for me to kiss it.

His dad would check me out, and while he shook my hand all businesslike, it wouldn’t be until later that his real nature would come out. He’d pull out a joint and tell us about his wild days; of wearing a leather jacket, having wall-to-wall lovers, and the heavy rock band he fronted with regular top-ten hits.

“Would you like another cocktail, Nate?” Roger asked.

“No, I’ve hardly—” My glass was empty.

“Your mind is preoccupied. Let me get you another.”

“No. I don’t want to be drunk before they arrive.”

“Have a cocktail,” said Cam as he ran his finger under a tap after burning it on poached chicken. “If I was in your shoes, I’d be nervous as well.”

Roger took the glass out of my hand and promptly made me another green drink. With the first sip, my mind wandered even more, back to last month.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Meet the Author

Kevin lives with his long-term partner, Warren, in their humble apartment (affectionately named Sabrina), in Australia’s own ‘Emerald City,’ Sydney.

From an early age, Kevin had a passion for writing, jotting down stories and plays until it came time to confront puberty. After dealing with pimple creams and facial hair, Kevin didn’t pick up a pen again until he was in his thirties. His handwritten manuscript was being committed to paper when his work commitments changed, giving him no time to write. Concerned, his partner, Warren, secretly passed the notebook to a friend who in turn came back and demanded Kevin finish his story. It wasn’t long before Kevin’s active imagination was let loose again.

His first novel spawned a secondary character named Guy, an insecure gay angel, but many readers argue that he is the star of the Actors and Angels book series. Guy’s popularity surprised the author.

So with his fictional guardian angel guiding him, Kevin hopes to bring more whimsical tales of love, life and friendship to his readers.

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