Dirk Greyson on Turning Personal Experience into Characters and his latest novel ‘Hell and Back’

Hell and Back by Dirk Greyson
Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: L.C. Chase

Book Links

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Dreamspinner Press

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to host Dirk Greyson here on his Hell  and Back tour. Welcome, Dirk.

 

I often get asked how much of myself I put into my stories and sometimes I’m not really sure.  I’m not a lawyer and I’m not ex-military turned detective, but I do like to think that I have a big heart and I think that’s where I insert myself most often into the stories I write.  Okay, I’m going to tell you something that I rarely go into online.  My school years weren’t happy ones. I was alone much of the time.  The kids at school picked on me and that made those years really tough.  As a reaction, I turned quiet in introspective.  I stayed away from others and didn’t open play with them because I never knew when the next trick or insult was coming.  It was a pretty miserable existence.  But I think that period of my life also helped me develop a real heart felt understanding for the underdog and those that are having a difficult time with life because I’d been through it.  I really feel for my characters and throw my heart into them, quite literally.  I really hope that comes through to you as well.

 

Blurb/Synopsis

Seventeen years ago, Forge Reynolds fell in love… and had his heart broken.  When Gage Livingston was brought into Forge’s Army field hospital, temporarily paralyzed, Forge sat with him, read his letters, answered his mail, and formed a connection he thought would last. But Gage was sent home, Forge transferred to a new post, and Forge’s letters to Gage went unanswered.

Now, in the middle of a bitter divorce, Forge is sick and tired of his husband’s manipulation and is almost ready to make any sacrifice to get closure, and then he finds Granger murdered execution-style in their home. Forge had no idea about Granger’s illicit activities, but the killers don’t believe that. They think Forge has something they want, and they’re coming after him.

When Forge’s lawyer arranges for professional protection, the last face Forge expects to see is Gage’s. Can he even contemplate a second chance for them after almost two decades or will hoping only lead to more heartache? Before they can explore the possibilities, they must figure out what information Granger had—and others are willing to kill for—or that possible heartache could become a certainty

Excerpt

Gage went through the house to turn out the interior lights before settling in the family room in front of the television with the volume on low, listening for anything out of the ordinary. One thing the Army had done a good job of training into him was patience. He could sit in a mostly empty house and listen for nothing for hours.

A lot of his jobs were hurry up and wait. This one had seemed like it would be more active. When the call had come in to the office, he’d been about to go off duty. Margie, his receptionist, had relayed who was calling and what they needed.  That woman never seemed to sleep and had forwarded the office phone to her cell..  There had been no one else available, so he’d sprung into action and hurried home to get a bag together. It wasn’t until he’d been driving and Margie called to give him the particulars that he’d heard the name and nearly run off the road.

After all these years, to run into Forge again, and under these circumstances….

He turned toward the stairs and got up to make a round through the house, then checked outside just to ensure everything was quiet.

Forge Reynolds. Gage sat down, turned off the television, and retrieved his bag to pull out his iPad so he could read for a while. After a few minutes of reading the same page over and over, he set it aside, leaned back, and closed his eyes. Concentration wasn’t something he had at the moment.

Almost instantly he was lying in a hospital bed.

He’d been hit with shrapnel, a ton of it if what he’d been told was true, and a piece had nicked his upper spine. He couldn’t walk or use his arms at first. And he’d never forget the day a man, about his own age, sat in the chair next to his bed and picked up the pile of letters on his tray. They hadn’t wanted to transport him in case it caused more damage, and his family couldn’t visit him where he was, so old-fashioned communication was the best way.

“Would you like me to read them to you?” The man’s voice had been mellow and gentle, at odds with most things in the Army.

“Please,” he’d said softly. At least he’d been able to talk.

Forge had opened the first envelope and read Gage the letter from his mother, then a second one. The third envelope contained one from his mother and one from his dad, and Forge read both. Gage had been tired and fallen asleep, but when he woke, the man was still there. He picked up a pen and paper and asked if he wanted to write a letter. “My name’s Specialist Forge Reynolds, by the way. I never did tell you.”

“Gage Staff Sergeant Livingston. Gage,” he’d croaked, hating the way his voice sounded. He remembered feeling useless, helpless, and wanting to die. And when he’d dictated that first letter, all of it had come out in a burst of self-pity and loathing that Forge had faithfully written down, showed to him, and then ripped to shreds.

About the Author

Dirk is very much an outside kind of man.  He loves travel and seeing new things.  Dirk worked in corporate America for way too long and now spends his days writing, gardening, and taking care of the home he shares with his partner of more than two decades.  He has a Master’s Degree and all the other accessories that go with a corporate job.  But he is most proud of the stories he tells and the life he’s built.  Dirk lives in Pennsylvania in a century old home and is blessed with an amazing circle of friends. 

Author Links

Other Works by Dirk Greyson

Yellowstone Wolves Series

Challenge the Darkness

Darkness Threatening

Darkness Rising

Day and Knight Series

Day and Knight

Sun and Shadow

Dawn and Dusk

Standalone Titles

An Assassin’s Holiday

Flight or Fight

Playing With Fire

Lost Mate

Hell and Back

BOOK BLAST – Blackbird Fly Home (Doyle Global Securities #1) by Kendel Duncan (excerpt)

 

Title: Blackbird Fly Home

(Doyle Global Securities #1)

Author: Kendel Duncan

Genre: M/M Romance

Release Date: September 19 2017

Cover Design: Dare Press Editing

Photographer: Dan Skinner

Blurb

Sometimes life will surprise you

Sometimes it will disappoint you

Sometimes it will kick you in the balls

Sometimes it will make you so happy you feel like you can fly

And sometimes, just sometimes, it will do all of those things.

The kick in the balls, both literally and figuratively, happened to Noah Pierce a long time ago. Ten years to be exact, when, to cap off a brutal and horrendous four-year relationship with the man who claimed to love him, that man buried a butcher knife in his side. It was the final wound in a seemingly endless cycle of bruises, cuts, breaks, sprains and other things that sent him to the hospital. He thought he was going to die. But when he opened his eyes in that ER room and saw a stranger with kind yet determined eyes looking back at him and with his boyfriend nowhere in sight, Noah knew that life was going to change for him. And it did.

For ten years he was stronger, he was better, he was……hollow.

He didn’t realize that last part until he saw one man. One pair of haunting blue eyes beside the very man who had ruined Noah all those years ago. One pair of frightened eyes. One pair of hollow, hopeless eyes that Noah couldn’t have walked away from if he tried…..because someone else hadn’t walked away from him all those years ago.

Noah didn’t realize it at the time, but by saving Jesse Miller from the clutches of his ex, he was going to learn to fly….

Picture1

Buy Links – Available on KU

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Goodreads

Excerpt

Excerpt: “Fuck,” Noah whispered as he tucked back farther into the shadows and rubbed his hand over his face, as if he could scrub those memories away with a swipe of his hand. Like that was ever going to happen.

He should walk away. He should just fucking walk away. Walk out of this club and leave Jacob Knight behind, like he’d done ten years ago.

But he couldn’t.

Because Morgan hadn’t.

And because he knew this kid, with those blue eyes that were so striking you could see them even in the dim lights of the club, would haunt him for the rest of his life.

He pulled out his phone and dialed.

“Hey there. How are you doing? I heard the Op you did was a little intense,” Morgan said when he answered the call.

Fucking Caleb.

Noah squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. Yeah that Op had been intense. He hadn’t been expecting that. It was supposed to be easy: pose as an escort, get fucked by the mark – Cole Gillette and place the listening device. Easy in, get laid, easy out. No problem, right? But then he’d felt Cole’s turmoil, his pain, his….the way he was so haunted by the man that he’d stared at on his TV screen while he’d fucked Noah, the man whose name Cole had called when he came in the condom in Noah’s ass: Kelly. Yeah, it’d been intense.

He chose to ignore Morgan’s comments, even though he knew the man would want to revisit them later. Time was of the essence here.

“I need your help,” he said, getting straight to the point.

He heard Morgan suck in a breath, “Anything Noah, tell me what you need.”

“I’m at Brubakers right now.”

“Brubakers, the club? Yeah, I know it. Are you drunk? Did something happen?”

“He’s here, Morgan.”

Dead silence answered him for at least half a minute. Noah had no doubt that Morgan would know exactly who Noah was talking about without saying the man’s name.

After a mumbled curse, “Has he seen you?”

“No.”

“Get out, Noah. Leave by the back door if you have to but get the fuck out.”

“I can’t.”

“What? Why not?”

“He’s got someone with him, Morgan and he looks, fuck, he looks just like me,” he said, the last word coming out like a choked sob.

“You mean like a twin?”

“No, I mean like a shell, like a robot, like a dead man walking. He can’t be more than twenty-five, Morg. I can’t leave him here with him. I have to help him.”

There was a quietly growled curse from Morgan and then, “Okay, I’m on my way. But do not do anything until I get there is that understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“If he sees you, do not confront him. Just run. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Do not engage in any way, do you hear me?”

“Yes, Morgan, I’ve got it,” Noah said with an eyeroll. Like he’d ever disobey any order or request from Morgan. He and Morgan both knew that. The idea of it almost made him snort out a laugh.

“I’ll call you when I’m in my car. I should be there in about fifteen.”

“Okay, and Morgan?”

“Yeah?”

“Hurry.”

The call ended and Noah continued to watch the young man for a few minutes.

When someone tapped him on the shoulder, he gasped and jumped in his seat.

“Relax, I’m a friend of Morgan’s. I’m Jake Brubaker, this is my place. He just called me. When he asks for my help, I don’t question, I just say yes. What do you need?” he said as he gave Noah’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Noah opened his mouth to say nothing but then he noticed that some of the servers were walking around with Brubakers ball caps on.

“Do you have any more of those hats?”

“Absolutely,” he said as he turned towards the bar, “Hey Amy, can you hand me a hat, please?”

The young woman ducked down behind the bar and then stuck her arm out to Jake, who grabbed the hat and handed it over to Noah.

“Anything else?”

“I don’t know yet. I might need a place to hide out for a bit.”

“My office is yours. It’s got an electronic lock on it,” he said then he told Noah the code to open it. He looked back at Noah with a raised eyebrow as he waited.

“Can you up the alcohol content on the drinks you send to that table?” Noah said as he lifted his chin towards Jacob’s table.

Jake looked over his shoulder, “Done.”

“He’s a lawyer. This could get….messy.”

Jake snorted a laugh, “Please, I was a prosecutor for ten years. I used to eat assholes like him for breakfast. Don’t worry about me or my place.”

Noah nodded to him as he pulled the hat down low over his head, “Thanks.”

“If you need anything else, just holler. I’m always around.”

Noah nodded to him again and then watched as Jake leaned over the bar to say something to the bartender and then she added more booze to the tray of drinks on the bar in front of her. One of the servers picked it up and brought it over to Jacob’s table. As they were handed out, he saw the young man next to Jacob lean in and whisper something into his ear. He watched as Jacob started to stand with him but then the other men at the table laughed and said something to Jacob that made him frown and Noah knew that they were giving him shit about not letting his boyfriend go to the bathroom by himself. He knew it because Jacob had done the same thing to him.

After listening to the other men teasing him, Jacob turned to his young man and placed his hand on his cheek. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the young man’s ear and Noah knew that he was giving him explicit instructions to not make eye contact with anyone, not speak to anyone, to go in and piss, wash his hands and return to the table without haste. Hell, even though it had been a decade, he could almost hear Jacob’s deep voice in his own ear whispering those same commands to him and a sick feeling shivered through his body like a snake.

Fuck.

This was his chance, this was going to be his only chance. It was now or fucking never.

He didn’t turn his head, just let his eyes track the young man as he made his way through the crowd and to the darkened hall that led to the restrooms. Then Noah’s eyes swung back to find that Jacob was doing the same thing, his eyes glued to that dark hall like a hawk.

Fucking hell. He couldn’t slip down there now or Jacob would see him for sure. How the fuck was he going to do this? He was beginning to worry that he’d have to come up with another plan.

Until….

Luther stepped in front of Jacob and blocked his view.

“I brought backup. Go,” Morgan said as he stepped up to Noah’s table and turned to watch his husband engaging Jacob and the other men at the table in conversation.

Noah knew that Luther would keep those men occupied for a while because even though Luther Santiago was no longer in his old line of work as a mob boss, he was still a highly respected, and feared, man who could command the attention of any room that he stepped into. And he currently held the rapt attention of those six men in that booth.

Noah slid out of his corner and ducked around the wall into the dark hallway and down into the men’s restroom.

He still wasn’t sure what he was going to say when he pushed the door open and saw the young man at the urinal but he knew he had to choose the right words or the young man would be lost. Forever.

He silently closed the door behind him and took a deep breath, “I used to be you,” he said quietly.

The man’s head whipped around and the terror in his eyes broke Noah’s heart. “What?” he whispered.

“I used to be you and he nearly killed me.”

The man’s eyes went wide and Noah could see not only the fear in them but also a thousand questions. But he knew the man wouldn’t ask him a single one of them, though, because that was how Jacob had trained him. Noah knew this because Jacob had trained him the same way.

“I, I’m not supposed to talk to anyone,” he mumbled as he quickly zipped up and moved over to the sink.

“What’s your name?” Noah said as he stepped closer to the man who was mumbling to himself as he washed his hands. As Noah got closer he realized that the man was counting how many times he rubbed the soap over his hands, like Jacob had burned it into his brain that if he didn’t wash long enough he wasn’t clean. Fucking bastard.

“J-J-J-Jesse,” the kid mumbled as he resumed his counting.

Noah stepped up to Jesse’s back and reached over to close his hands over Jesse’s, causing Jesse to hiss in a breath, “Broken ribs, three broken wrists, five concussions, two broken arms, two broken ankles, and a punctured lung from when he stabbed me with a butcher knife.”

“He, he doesn’t really hit me,” he whispered.

That surprised Noah for a brief second but then he realized…. “No, but he does other things that make you feel hopeless, helpless, humiliated.”

“I, I, I m-m-make him angry. I’m bad.”

“No, Jesse. I never did anything wrong and neither did you. You don’t have to live like this. I can help you. Let me help you, please.”

Jesse’s tear-filled eyes looked at Noah in the mirror, “How?”

“Come with me, right now. I’ll take you someplace safe where he’ll never find you, I promise.”

Tears spilled over onto Jesse’s cheeks as he looked down and ran his fingers over his forearm, “Yes he will, he’ll always find me.”

As Noah’s eyes darted down to Jesse’s arm, realization hit him like a freight train, “Fucking hell, Jesse, did he put a tracking device in your arm?”

Jesse silently nodded his head.

 

 

Blackbird Teaser7

About the Author

Kendel Duncan is the pen name for author Dara Nelson. Both her Healing Hearts series (Dara Nelson) and The Black Ops Heroes series (Kendel Duncan) garner such praise as: “Ah-mazing!”, “It’s a keeper!” and “One of the best books I’ve read”

A long-time reader of the romance genre, Dara (Kendel) writes tear-jerking, sigh-inducing romance and heart-pounding, exciting erotic fiction and lives with her husband on a small farm near Tacoma, WA. You can reach her on Facebook at either of her author pages listed below

Some of her favorite authors include Riley Hart, Ella Frank, Devon McCormack, Aimee Nicole Walker, Sloane Kennedy, Dan Skinner and too many more to name.

Social Media Links

Facebook Author pages Kendel Duncan and Dara Nelson Books

Amazon Author pages – Dara Nelson and Kendel Duncan

Blog Site – Love Unchained Book Reviews

 

BOOK BLAST SCHEDULE

BLACKBIRD FLY HOME SCHEDULE

October 26

Bookaholic & Kindle REVIEW

Valerie Ullmer | Romance Author REVIEW

Megan’s Media Melange REVIEW

Tangents and Tissues

Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews

MM Good Book Reviews

October 27

Zipper Rippers

My Fiction Nook

We Three Queens

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words

Stories That Make You Smile

October 28

Bayou Book Junkie REVIEW

Gay Book Reviews

A Book Lover’s Dream Book Blog REVIEW

MJ’s Book Blog and Reviews

Lily G Blunt

 

Hosted by Gay Book Productions

Gay-book-promotions-logos-jayAheer2017-square

Julia Talbot on Historic Mining Hotels and her release ‘To Hell You Ride’ (guest post)

To Hell You Ride by Julia Talbot
Dreamspinner Press
Cover Art: Reese Dante

Buy Link:  Dreamspinner Press

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to host Julia Talbot on her tour for her latest release To Hell You Ride. Welcome, Julia.

Hey y’all!

I’m Julia Talbot, and I’m talking about To Hell You Ride today, which is a historical I wrote a while back and Dreamspinner is putting it back out for me. I love this book, y’all. I do. I love historicals, and I love the wild west, and this book is all about hard rock mining in Colorado’s San Juan mountains.

Clancy, one of the main characters in the book, is enamored of fancy hotels. The late 1800 saw a boom in places like Colorado and New Mexico with grand hotels. Each little mining town seemed to have one, and they all had their own character. I’m kind of obsessed with old hotels myself, so here are my top five.

5. The Hotel Boulderado in Boulder, Colorado. Great staircase. OMG haunted. Seriously. There’s this hallway back to an annex they built to have more rooms… Something awful must have happened there. You get physically ill. Creepy!

4. The Stanley Hotel in Estes Park. This one would be higher on the list if they had any kind of air conditioning! So hot in July. Just sayin’. However, it is the inspiration for the Shining, and it plays the Shining 24/7 on the TV, so I can live with it. Super architecture and an amazing view from the porch.

3. The Strater in Durango, CO. So pretty. Just a lovely hotel with antique decorated rooms. Call ahead and make sure the elevator is working. Be sure to sit in the lobby for a while and watch for the man in the tailcoat and top hat. He has no idea he’s dead.

2. The Hotel Colorado, Glenwood Springs CO—Don’t stay here. Stay at the Hot Springs Lodge. But! Go have a drink on the outdoor patio. Check out the amazing lobby, and if you can, the ballroom. Theodore Roosevelt stayed here. It’s very cool.

1. The New Sheridan Hotel in Telluride. Such a neat old building in the historic district. You have to see the bar! The woodwork is amazing. The backdrop of the San Juans ain’t bad, either.

Thanks for reading, y’all!

XXOO

Julia Talbot

Blurb

Big Roy is a hard-rock miner with a not-so-secret love for the theater, so when he hears a new troupe of actors are coming to the Telluride Opera House to put on a Shakespeare play, he saddles his mule and makes the trek into town to see it. The play doesn’t disappoint, but the beautiful lead actor, Edward Clancy, certainly does. Clancy is rude and arrogant, and Roy figures he’d never have a chance with such a man. He’s wrong, because Clancy needs some entertainment himself, being stuck in a hellish mining town for the long, snowy winter. Come spring, though, Clancy knows he’s going to want to move on, and he thinks Roy will be easy to forget. Then tragedy hits, and Clancy has to rethink his entire life. Can these two strike gold?

Second Edition

First Edition Published by SCREWDRIVER An imprint of Torquere Press, January 2007.

About the Author

Julia Talbot lives in the great Southwest, where there is hot and cold running rodeo, cowboys, and everything from meat and potatoes to the best Tex-Mex. A full time author, Julia has been published by Dreamspinner Press and Changeling Press. She believes that everyone deserves a happy ending, so she writes about love without limits, where boys love boys, girls love girls, and boys and girls get together to get wild, especially when her crazy paranormal characters are involved. Find her on the web at www.juliatalbot.com

https://www.facebook.com/juliatalbotauthor

https://twitter.com/juliatalbot

Ad pack attached

Eli Easton on Tender Mercies (with an Exclusive Excerpt)

Tender Mercies (Men of Lancaster County #2) by Eli Easton
Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: Brooke Albrecht

Available for Purchase at Dreamspinner Press

Release date: Oct 27, 2017

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to have Eli Easton here today on her Tender Mercies tour.  Welcome, Eli.

Exclusive Excerpt: Samuel comes out to Eddie

By Eli Easton

I’m celebrating the release of TENDER MERCIES, a romance set on a farm very much like the one I live on with my family. It’s the second book in the “Men of Lancaster County” series, though it features a new couple and can be read as a stand-alone. What each book in this series has in common is being set in Lancaster County, a rural area of Pennsylvania where there are a lot of Amish and Mennonite.

The protagonists in TENDER MERCIES are Eddie, a city guy who moved to the country to start a farm sanctuary,  and Samuel, a young Amish man kicked out of his community for being gay. Samuel, having nowhere else to go, finds a job as a farmhand on Eddie’s farm.

I’ve long wanted to write an Amish protagonist. Growing up myself as the daughter of a conservative minister in the Midwest, I can relate to the frustrations and perils of growing up in a very restrictive, limited environment. I can only imagine how much more difficult it would be for a young boy who knows he’s gay.

Below is one of my favorite Samuel scenes in the book, in which, for the first time in his life, he comes out to another person.

EXCERPT – Samuel comes out to Eddie

Samuel became very absorbed by books. He and Eddie read in the evenings, letting the cards languish on the dining room table. Samuel would read a book that wasn’t embarrassing when he was sitting in the living room with Eddie, and Eddie would read on his Kindle. It was sure good to have company, even if they didn’t talk a whole lot. It was like there was an extra stove in the room, this one thawing some cold and neglected piece of Samuel’s heart. Sometimes Eddie would laugh and then read something out loud to Samuel. Sometimes he made popcorn.

But no matter how nice it was to read in the same room as Eddie, Samuel would go to bed early, and there he would read a book he’d snuck from the right wall section of office shelves—the romances. There was no way he could be in the same room as Eddie and read those! If his blush didn’t give him away, other parts of him would.

He read a romance about a woman and a pirate, which was very, very dirty. It had crazy names for body parts like “manhood” and “cave” and “the milk of love.”

Then he read one about a woman who owned a big sports team. He found the information about the sports teams almost as interesting as the sex in that one. Almost.

Then Samuel found the other books. They were on the bottom three shelves of that right wall section. When Samuel pulled the first one, he saw two men on the cover. He pulled another and another. He read the back of the books. They were all about two men who met and…. Surely not. It couldn’t be what it looked like.

Eddie was in the kitchen making dinner when Samuel found those books. Heart pounding and half-afraid of getting caught, Samuel quickly picked one book and put back the rest. He went up and hid the book in his room. That night he went to bed real early, consumed by curiosity, and he read it.

In the story one man played ice hockey and he was famous. No one knew this man was gay because hockey players weren’t supposed to be that way, and he’d lose his job if they found out. The other man was a reporter, and his family and friends knew he liked other men, and they didn’t care. The reporter met the hockey player, and they started having sex and fell in love. It was a tough situation because they had to keep it secret and couldn’t be seen out together and such like.

Samuel didn’t touch himself when he read this book. He cried. He cried so hard he had to bury his face in the pillow because he was afraid Eddie would hear him all the way on the other side of the house.

He was overwhelmed by thoughts and images. Someone wrote a book about it, about men who like other men. And in the book, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. It was a thing some people didn’t accept, but the men in the book were still characters worth writing about. Their story was worth telling. They were not terrible people or sinful or perverted or abominations. They were handsome and nice, and they tried to do the right thing. It was all right there on the page, that was what was so amazing. It was printed there as if the story of two men who loved each other had just as much right to be written and made into a book and printed on good paper as Beauty or Treasure Island.

That meant so much to Samuel his body couldn’t contain the feeling of muchness. So he cried.

For two days Samuel thought about that book as he went about his chores. He didn’t even want to read any more books right then; he just wanted to think about that one book and what it meant. He thought about what it meant that Eddie had the book, and a bunch more like it, in his library. He thought about how it might be connected to the fact that Eddie was not married and had no children, even though he said he was twenty-eight years old.

Those thoughts made Samuel feel itchy and twisted up inside. He liked Eddie and respected him. He respected Eddie’s kindness and his principles when it came to other creatures, he really did. Even if Eddie’s sensitivity about animals seemed excessive to Samuel, he could admit such compassion was more Christlike than many of the things Samuel witnessed growing up. But if Eddie turned out to be like that, gay, Samuel wasn’t sure how he’d feel about it.

He always believed “being gay,” as the romances called it, was something to be ashamed of, and he didn’t want to lose respect for Eddie. But the books also made him think his father, his church, had been wrong. It didn’t have to be a sinful, degenerate thing done in the cover of night as if hiding from God. Two men loving each other could have a normal life just like any other couple, just like in his fantasy of Green Valley. For real.

And if Eddie were gay, then….

Then.

Those what-if thoughts lurked hungrily on the edges of his mind, but they were too audacious to think directly. Samuel felt skittery and guilty anytime he started to think about them. As if Eddie would know somehow.

No. Those ideas were too big to dwell upon. It hurt too much to want like that. And it wasn’t right by Eddie. The man deserved more respect than to become a figure in Samuel’s sexy dreams.

But Samuel was curious about why Eddie had the books. Maybe it was just because he liked all sorts of things. Eddie wasn’t a pirate, after all. Maybe all English had such books. Curiosity started to eat Samuel up. He figured it was best to just come out and ask so he could stop fretting about it one way or the other.

So on the third night after he found the gay romances, when Eddie was putting supper on the kitchen island, Samuel slipped upstairs and got the book. When he sat down, he did what Eddie had done all those weeks ago with that towel. He put it on the counter facing Eddie. Then he picked up his fork.

Dinner that night was spaghetti with a tomato sauce and a salad. Samuel focused on his food and refused to be put off by nerves. He was hungry.

He’d finished half his meal before he looked up to find Eddie watching him warily.

“Are you asking me about the book? Or do you have something to say about it?” Eddie asked in his most careful voice.

Samuel thought about that. “Did you read it?”

“Yes.”

“What did you think of it?”

Eddie still looked wary. “What did I think about it? Hmm. Well. It’s not my favorite gay romance, but I liked it. I thought the relationship development was well done.” He paused for a moment, then gave what looked to Samuel like a forced smile. “The hockey player was hot.”

Samuel felt a wave of embarrassment and looked down at his spaghetti. He felt himself blushing. He ate a few bites, chewing and swallowing more slowly than usual. Samuel thought the hockey player was “hot” too. But if Eddie thought so, did that mean he was gay? For sure?

All of a sudden, Samuel wished he hadn’t brought it up. Because he wasn’t sure he could not make a fool out of himself over the answer. It felt too important. He felt a little nauseous, truth be told. He put down his fork and twisted his hands in his lap, stared out the window.

“That’s not really what you wanted to ask me about, is it?” Eddie said. “You want to know why I have gay romance in the house. You want to know if I’m gay.”

Samuel’s heart thudded thick and heavy in his chest. “Ain’t none of my business.” He suddenly didn’t think he could stand knowing, one way or the other. It would be too much.

“Well. I am. I’m a gay man. I was in a relationship for a long time, but, well, now I’m not. Is that going to be a problem for you?”

Samuel felt faint. Was that relief he felt? Or shock? He hadn’t thought Eddie was gay, much less expected him to admit it so easily. How had he not guessed? Samuel felt ignorant and unworldly, one of those moments where the gap between his knowledge of the world, and Eddie’s, felt so broad it was a wonder they could talk to each other at all.

Samuel’s ears were ringing, and he was lost in his thoughts. He suddenly realized Eddie was still talking to him.

“Samuel? Can you please answer me? Is it going to make you uncomfortable living here now?”

“What?” Samuel jerked his head around to look at Eddie. Eddie’s face was guarded, and Samuel felt terrible.

“No, I don’t mind. I mean, I’m not uncomfortable.” Lord, he was so uncomfortable. “What I mean is….” He hesitated.

Eddie frowned at him, his face guarded as if prepared for Samuel to say something mean.

“I am too!” Samuel said abruptly, then he cringed. He thought he might throw up. “That is to say, I always felt that way. That’s why my da beat me with the switch that one day. And told me to get out. So it don’t matter to me none if you are.” He closed his eyes and clenched his fists on the counter. He couldn’t sound any stupider if he tried.

Eddie’s hand closed loosely over Samuel’s fist. His voice was soft. “That’s why your dad beat you? That’s inexcusable, Sam. You know that, right?”

Samuel opened his eyes, startled at the touch. But before he could even really feel it, Eddie pulled his hand away.

Eddie was glowering. He rubbed at the center of his chest. “First of all, you can’t help being gay. It’s something you’re born with, like brown eyes. And there’s nothing wrong with it. It’s certainly nothing you should be punished for. I’m sorry your father did that to you. God, that makes me so mad!”

Samuel had no idea what to say. He picked up his fork and twirled it in the spaghetti and chewed it, not hardly tasting a thing. Eddie’s words rolled around in his head like marbles. There’s nothing wrong with it. Eddie sure came from a different world. Samuel liked that world. The longing for it was sharp, a desperate ache. He wanted to be a part of it.

Then he realized that maybe he already was.

“You’re the first person I ever told,” he admitted.

Eddie smiled. “Yeah? How does it feel?”

Samuel considered it. “Like I’m about to have a heart attack.”

I hope you enjoy the rest of TENDER MERCIES.

Eli Easton

About TENDER MERCIES – Eli Easton (Men of Lancaster County #2)

Eddie Graber’s dream of a sanctuary for rescued farm animals was about to come true when his partner backed out at the last minute. Now Eddie risks losing the twenty-five acre property in Lancaster County—and all the hopes he held for it—before the project even gets off the ground. He needs help, he needs money, but most importantly, he needs to rediscover the belief in a higher purpose that brought him here in the first place.

Samuel Miller worked hard to fit into his Amish community despite his club foot. But when his father learns Samuel is gay, he is whipped and shunned. With just a few hundred dollars to his name, Samuel responds to an ad for a farmhand and finds himself employed by a city guy who has strange ideas about animals, no clue how to run his small farm, and a gentle heart.

Samuel isn’t the only lost soul to serendipitously find his way to Meadow Lake Farm. There’s Fred and Ginger, two cows who’d been living in a garage, a gang of sheep, and a little black pig named Benedict who might be the key to life, love, money—and even a happily ever after for two castoffs.

NOTE: This title is set in the same region as book #1 but features a new couple. It can be read as a stand-alone.

About the Author

Having been, at various times and under different names, a minister’s daughter, a computer programmer, a game designer, the author of paranormal mysteries, a fan fiction writer, an organic farmer and a profound sleeper, Eli is happily embarking on yet another incarnation as a m/m romance author. 

As an avid reader of such, she is tinkled pink when an author manages to combine literary merit, vast stores of humor, melting hotness and eye-dabbing sweetness into one story.  She promises to strive to achieve most of that most of the time.  She currently lives on a farm in Pennsylvania with her husband, three bulldogs, three cows and six chickens.  All of them (except for the husband) are female, hence explaining the naked men that have taken up residence in her latest fiction writing.

 

SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35076747-tender-mercies?from_search=true

Amy Lane on A Memory of Chocolate and her latest release ‘Familiar Angel’, a new trilogy from Dreamspinner Press (guest post)

Familiar Angel by Amy Lane
Dreamspinner Press
Cover Art by Reese Dante

Available for Purchase at

Dreamspinner Press

Amazon 

 

A Memory of Chocolate

By Amy Lane

Because Familiar Angel takes place over the span of 140 years, much of the love story in the present day is twined with events in the past. Like real memories, the important ones don’t always come in a linear development. They often come when someone needs the memory the most. (Shows like The Pretender and Supernatural that stretch long enough for the stars who play the young leads to grow up often run into trouble with this. Fortunately for me, the casting for the young actors are all in your head!)

This is a memory twined with a real-time event. Harry and Suriel are on a “job” or a “mission” to get a group of girls to safety—but time on the road is time on the road, and painful confessions often come to pass.

The real-time moment happens in the aftermath of such a painful confession.

The moment between Harry and Emma takes place long ago, in the past…

A yawn took over Suriel’s body, and Harry had to laugh. Apparently parts of being human took him by surprise.

You want to use the bed, don’t you?” he asked kindly.

Suriel shook his head and settled down more comfortably. “This is fine,” he said through another yawn. “I just… I want you to know. I know you’re still afraid of Big Cass—of having no faith in the world again, of being all alone. But you rebuilt faith in your heart with the love of your brothers, your parents—on that alone. That took more courage than facing Big Cass ever could.”

Suriel yawned again, and then, like a child, fell asleep.

Harry was left with the roar of the diesel engine and the hum of the tires on the tattered pavement as they rumbled through the night.

*

Mornings in Mendocino were frequently cold. It didn’t snow there often, but there was usually a sharp, wet wind blowing off the ocean, and the combination of cold and damp could chill a man to his vitals, make brittle his viscera and bones.

Within a week of moving to the tiny, drafty cabin that would become a mansion—and their home—Harry realized that Emma, who had power at her fingertips to command as an old and studied witch, woke up early every morning to start a fire in the Ben Franklin stove in the center of the room.

The boys had gotten used to sleeping as cats very quickly; they preferred it. Cats woke up fully, in an instant—nobody surprised a cat in the way Big Cass had been known to surprise the boys. And they were furry and, if they slept in a huddle, warm.

Always warm.

But Emma would get up early anyway, stoke the fire, and put on hot water for tea or coffee.

After a week, Harry was curious enough to turn human to ask her what she was doing.

First she greeted him with a warm sweater and thick socks to pull on, as well as a stocking cap and a blanket over his shoulders—the cold was stunning.

Then she poured him a hot cup of coffee, wrapped the tin cup in a towel, and pressed his fingers to the warm sides.

“Now what did you want to ask me, Harry?”

Harry stared at her and tried to keep his face composed. “Nothing,” he rasped. “Just… trying to figure out what we did to deserve all this.”

Emma’s smile illuminated stars and warmed planets—Harry was sure of it. “You boys just… just agreed, Harry. Jumped into my carpet bag as cats and came to start a new life. I just don’t want to make you sorry you took a chance on me, you understand?”

Harry nodded and sipped his coffee.

And realized that love came in the strangest of gestures, the most infinitesimal of signs.

*

They reached Visalia about an hour before dawn, and Harry urged Suriel to stretch out in the back quarter of the truck.

“Come sleep with me.” Suriel yawned. “I’ll set wards, Harry—they’ll wake you soon enough.”

Harry checked in with Edward, who had been dozing for the last hundred miles anyway and was apparently tucked into one of the bedrolls they’d brought. He told Harry he was setting his own wards and then fell back asleep, as a man or a cat, Harry couldn’t tell.

“Okay.” Harry yawned, trusting. Suriel turned on his side, and Harry went furry and glided up against his chest.

Suriel’s hands, stroking his ears back, smoothing his whiskers flat, reassured him on a primal level.

“When we’re less tired, I would love to do this with you as a man,” Suriel whispered.

Harry lapped delicately at his forearm. Well, yes. But not now. Harry was feeling too raw, too wounded now. He would just appreciate that arm holding him strongly, reminding him that he didn’t have to be alone.

Not tonight.

He woke up semipanicked, Suriel’s spot next to him cool in the morning chill. Someone was opening the door to the cab, and Harry hissed, skittering back, heart pounding, every alarm in his head going off, when Suriel’s voice greeted him.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I went to get you and the boys some chocolate. I hope that’s okay.”

Harry turned abruptly human, perched on his knees on the uncertain ground of the mattress.

“That’s….” Suriel handed him the paper cup, and he took it automatically, smiling shyly into Suriel’s eyes. Harry lost the reason he was frightened and upset and took the hot chocolate, dazed and stunned. Suriel’s eyes, that warm, rich chocolate brown, mesmerized him.

“That’s what?” Suriel asked, teasing.

“You’re here,” Harry said. “In the morning again. That’s wonderful.”

Suriel’s smile spread, went blinding, and Harry felt as though he’d said something brilliant instead of something obvious.

“I’ll go see how the girls are doing.” Suriel placed a pastry bag in his hand.

Then Suriel disappeared, closing the door behind him, and Harry was left in the rapidly heating central valley, drinking hot chocolate and remembering the feeling of his fingers wrapped around a towel-insulated tin cup in a drafty cabin next to the ocean.

Harry wasn’t stupid. He knew what it was that bound the two memories together.

They twined around his heart as he closed his eyes and sipped his chocolate.

Blurb

One hundred and forty years ago, Harry, Edward, and Francis met an angel, a demon, and a sorceress while escaping imprisonment and worse! They emerged with a new family—and shapeshifting powers beyond their wildest dreams.

Now Harry and his brothers use their sorcery to rescue those enslaved in human trafficking—but Harry’s not doing so well. Pining for Suriel the angel has driven him to take more and more risks until his family desperately asks Suriel for an intervention.

In order for Suriel to escape the bindings of heaven, he needs to be sure enough of his love to fight to be with Harry. Back when they first met, Harry was feral and angry, and he didn’t know enough about love for Suriel to justify that risk. Can Suriel trust in Harry enough now to break his bonds of service for the boy who has loved his Familiar Angel for nearly a century and a half?

Excerpt

“Hide!” Harry had just enough presence of mind to grab Francis’s other side to help Edward pull him through the thicket of brambles that lined the river. Bleeding, dirty, breathless, they slid to a halt in a hollow between the blackberry bushes and the hill, lying on their stomachs, Francis sandwiched between them. Francis, who had received a terrible scratch from the corner of his mouth to the corner of his eye, moaned in pain. Harry shushed him, and Edward placed a gentle hand over his mouth.

A woman, clothed in blinding, glowing white, burst into the clearing with a man—man?—draped over her shoulder. His clothes were red velvet, and thick curly hair grew all over his face and large skull, like a goat’s.

His back feet were cloven.

“Leonard,” she begged. “Leonard… darling. Wake up. Wake up. I need your help.”

Leonard—the thing… man—rolled his head, much like Francis had done, and moaned. “Emma, leave me. If they find me with you… if they find Mullins here….”

“Mullins!” the woman whispered. “Mullins—I’m losing him. Oh please—Mullins, he’s losing himself again.”

“I’m losing myself again!” came a terrible growl, and another Leonard-like thing stepped into the clearing—this one very obviously glowing red. “Emma, we need to do the ritual. I can’t….” The monster thing, Mullins, let out a horrifying series of snuffling grunts and growls. “I’ll turn,” he said, sounding tearful—if a beast could be in tears. “I’ll turn and gut you both.”

“I understand,” she whispered. “You’ve been very brave. Here.” She set Leonard on the ground then and started to pull items from a leather satchel across her shoulder. “We’ll do it right now.”

“This isn’t the ceremonial place!” Mullins said, sounding despondent. “It’s not cleansed, it’s not prepared—”

To Harry’s surprise, Emma put a tender hand on the beast’s cheek. “My sweet boy, you’ve been too long in hell. We don’t need the trappings of the spell—although the things in those hex bags should help us focus. We just need ourselves, and our good intentions, and our desire.”

Mullins’s grunt was self-deprecating. “The road to hell is the one paved with good intentions,” he said gruffly.

“That’s only because the demons trying to get to earth walked that path first,” she said, sounding cheeky. In their quiet interaction, Harry got a better look at her. Not young—over twenty—but not old either, she was beautiful in every sense of the word. Straight nose, even teeth, perfectly oval face, and blonde hair that streamed, thick and healthy, to her waist, she was what every boy should dream about when he went to sleep hoping for a wife.

Harry didn’t dream about girls, but he could look at this one and know the appeal.

But it was more than the physical beauty—and she had it all, soft hips, small waist, large breasts—there was the kindness to the beasties. The gentleness and calm she radiated when Mullins had threatened her.

Suddenly Harry had a powerful yearning for his mum, when she’d been dead for nearly five years.

“Here,” Emma said, breaking the sweetness of the moment. “Take the hex bags—there’s ten. Make a pentagram with me and Leonard in the center. I’m summoning an angel, love. You may want to leave when you’re done. I’ve no guarantees he’ll be friendly to you.”

“That’s not news,” Mullins said dryly and began his task. “Do you…. Emma, I know you’re powerful. You summoned my master for knowledge on power alone. But all else you have done, you have done out of love.”

“Including persuade you to our side,” she said. While he set the hex bags, she was stretching Leonard out before her, stripping his shirt with deft, practiced movements. The skin underneath the clothes was smooth and human, and Harry felt nauseated at the abomination of beast and man.

But Emma seemed to care for him.

“It would be worth any torture,” Mullins said softly, pausing in his duties, “to know Leonard will live.”

“Come with us!” Emma begged. “I may not love you like I love Leonard, but you’ve been a good friend to us. Please—”

Mullins shook his head. “It’s not enough to break me free,” he said, and his bestial smile would haunt Harry and Edward for years. “Someone would have to love me enough to sacrifice for me, and make no mistake, Emma. This will come down to your sacrifice. You will be stripped of your power, your youth—are you sure you want to do this?”

Emma let out a sigh. “I would live a mortal lifetime without worry,” she said softly. “But I do not want him all alone without me. ’Twould be cruel.” She closed her eyes for a moment, and then—

Harry gasped and heard Edward do the same.

She was looking right at them.

“I’m about to do something very wrong,” she said, great conviction carrying in her serenity. “But I think something very right too. Carry on, Mullins, but run as soon as you are done.” Her voice dropped. “Please, my friend—I’ll have enough weighing on my soul for tonight’s doings as it is.”

Mullins continued to bustle, and as he set the last hex bag down, Emma began to chant. Mullins traced a circle in the dirt around the outside bags, and then, when the circle ends touched, he pulled out a knife.

Emma nodded unhappily at him and then bit her lip as he cut a line on his palm and let the blood drip on the sealed ends of the dirt line. He and Emma looked at each other again, a strong friendship locking their gaze, before he turned and lurched away, his gait awkward and crippled on his cloven hooves. Harry felt some compassion for him then, poor beast, good friend—but his gaze didn’t linger.

He was too busy watching the white light around Emma grow larger, filling the space inside the pentagram like a bowl.

The light exploded outward, filling the clearing itself, and then one more time, just a few feet more.

Harry and Edward stared at each other, terrified.

They were in the light circle as well.

“Glory!” Edward whispered, and Harry was too shaken to quiet him.

Francis stirred between them and opened his eyes slowly. For a moment Harry feared that he’d startle and scream—Harry certainly would have raised a bloody great hue and cry—but then, Francis wasn’t Harry.

He parted his bruised lips and smiled.

“An angel,” he breathed, and Harry turned his attention back to the center of the clearing.

Where an angel appeared.

Harry’s heart stopped in his throat. Tall—because of course, right? An angel would be tall. Clothed in robes that glittered like diamonds, whiter than pearls he was. His hair was a marvelous flame-gold color, red like a sunrise or an ember. His face was more handsome than sin—bold, straight nose, full lips, a square jaw, eyes of warm, solid brown.

Harry’s groin gave a painful throb, and he almost wept. Those things—those dirty, filthy things that were done to him by rough miners and haughty bankers with gold in their grubby fists—those things were not right here.

Not with an angel.

Not with this angel.

Harry’s eyes burned with the perfection of this angel.

“Suriel,” Emma breathed.

About the Author

Amy Lane has two kids who are mostly grown, two kids who aren’t, three cats, and two Chi-who-whats at large. She lives in a crumbling crapmansion with most of the children and a bemused spouse. She also has too damned much yarn, a penchant for action adventure movies, and a need to know that somewhere in all the pain is a story of Wuv, Twu Wuv, which she continues to believe in to this day! She writes fantasy, urban fantasy, and gay romance–and if you accidentally make eye contact, she’ll bore you to tears with why those three genres go together. She’ll also tell you that sacrifices, large and small, are worth the urge to write.

Ava Hayden on Favorites Locations, Characters and her release ‘Highballer’ (guest post)

Highballer (World of Love) by Ava Hayden
Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: Jennifer Vance

Available for Purchase at

Buy Links:

Dreamspinner: http://bit.ly/2x8X7BC

Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/y9eb5jsp

Rakuten Kobo: http://bit.ly/2z3W3B6

iBooks: http://apple.co/2xYb5L4

Nook: http://bit.ly/2ycpyTT

Google Books: https://goo.gl/RLsjbE

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to have Ava Hayden here today on her Highballer tour.  Welcome, Ava!

 

 

Thanks to Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words for hosting me today to talk about Highballer, #17 in Dreamspinner’s World of Love series. Highballer follows two tree planters in Alberta as they earn money to secure their futures and fall for each other at the same time. There are a few bumps along the road to their HEA, some the size of the mountains where they’re planting, but no worries—they do get there in the end!

In September, I returned to some of the locations that Levi and Remy visit in the course of the story because a friend was visiting from the States. We drove up the awe-inspiring Icefield Parkway to Jasper and stayed there a couple of days. Jasper National Park is home to one of my favorite spots—Maligne Canyon. In the past I’ve seen bighorn sheep grazing along the edge of a sheer drop to certain death below (they climb over a fence to reach the grass there). I get vertigo just watching them, but I’ve never heard of one falling, unlike some humans who have climbed the fence for a better photo.

While there we also visited the planetarium. It’s a real planetarium but not what you’re probably thinking. It’s inflatable (they call it air-supported). Why a planetarium in Jasper? Because Jasper National Park is the second largest dark sky preserve in the world. (Look at a view of North America at night from space. Find Calgary and then view Jasper National Park. See the difference? The largest dark sky preserve in the world, Wood Buffalo National Park, is also in Alberta, as well as the Northwest Territories. It’s *really* big. ) Unfortunately, the night we went to the planetarium, we couldn’t see the stars through telescopes because of cloud cover. Maybe next year!

We headed back down the Icefield Parkway to Lake Louise and then on to Banff. We walked along the river out to the falls and back to Banff Avenue. That’s all I’m going to say to avoid spoilers, but here are a couple of pics to give you an idea of how beautiful it is there. If you’ve never been, maybe Highballer will make you want to dust off your passport and head north!

Jasper sunset

https://www.instagram.com/p/BZhKeqvn0Pl/?taken-by=avahayden.ab

Bow River, Banff, Alberta

https://www.instagram.com/p/BZpdjghHUXV/?taken-by=avahayden.ab

Blurb

What happens when the man is as tempting as the money?

Remy Delacour’s family doesn’t believe in mainstream medicine, and when Remy’s boyfriend reveals that Remy is majoring in nursing, they cut him off. He has to find money to finish his education—fast. And he is so done with boyfriends.

Levi Aronson met the guy of his dreams and followed him to Australia. He knew the chances for a lasting romance were slim—and boy, was he right. Now he’s back in Canada, a year behind in his university program, and short of funds. He needs money, not another man.

Tree planting is a way to make a lot of money fast, but it’s one of the hardest jobs in the world. When Levi, an experienced planter, sees pretty, sloe-eyed Remy, Levi is certain he’ll never last.

They’ll have to pry Remy’s shovel from his cold, stiff fingers, because he won’t quit—or let anything take his eyes off the prize. When a storm brings Remy and Levi together, each finds the other a distraction from the big goal. But can anything develop between two men who have sworn off relationships?

World of Love: Stories of romance that span every corner of the globe.

Author Bio

Ava Hayden lives and writes in Alberta, Canada. When not writing, she loves reading yaoi manga and gay romance, baking, seeing plays, hearing live music, and hiking (even though she once came face to face with two grizzlies on a trail). Most of the time her life isn’t that exciting, and that’s fine by her.

More about Ava

Ava Hayden Writes: https://avahayden.com/

Ava Hayden on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/avahayden.ab/

Ava Hayden on Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/avahaydenab/

Ava Hayden on Facebook: fb.me/avahayden.ab

Ava Hayden on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/avahayden

Ava Hayden on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/Ava_Hayden

Ava Hayden at Dreamspinner Press: https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/authors/ava-hayden-812

Andrew Grey on the Definition of HEA and his latest release ‘Taming the Beast’ (guest blog)

Taming the Beast by Andrew Grey
Dreamspinner Press
Cover Art: Paul Richmond

Release Date: October 13, 2017

Book Links

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Dreamspinner Press

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to host Andrew Grey here today on his Taming the Beast tour.  Welcome, Andrew.

✒︎
I’m very much a Happily Ever After kind of guy.  I like my characters to feel as though they are going to be together in the story as well as my heart.  But I seem to have a problem because I’m not sure what a HEA really means any more.  In traditional romance that path leads to the altar or at least to a proposal.  But in MM romance marriage wasn’t possible for so many years, so a HEA usual consisted of some sort of gesture of permanence.  They moved in together, bought a house, or asked each other to be their life partner, even exchanged rings with only the two of them.  Something to signify that they planned to stay together.  Now in this age of marriage equality, I’m having trouble because I’m not sure if we’ve reverted to the traditional version of an HEA or not.  In my stories I tend to use the older definition of an HEA, probably because I’m an old fart and getting older by the day.  (Rolls eyes)     But I’d like to hear what you think.  Please comment and let me know your thoughts. I’d love to hear them.

Blurb/Synopsis

The suspicious death of Dante Bartholomew’s wife changed him, especially in the eyes of the residents of St. Giles. They no longer see a successful businessman… only a monster they believe was involved. Dante’s horrific reputation eclipses the truth to the point that he sees no choice but to isolate himself and his heart.

The plan backfires when he meets counselor Beau Clarity and the children he works with. Beau and the kids see beyond the beastly reputation to the beautiful soul inside Dante, and Dante’s cold heart begins to thaw as they slip past his defenses. The warmth and hope Beau brings to Dante’s life helps him see his entire existence—his trials and sorrows—in a brighter light.

But Dante’s secrets could rip happiness from their grasp… especially since someone isn’t above hurting those Dante has grown to love in order to bring him down.

Excerpt

Dante turned back to Bobby. “Do you know what we’re going to have for dinner?”

“Roast beef and potatoes and beans.” Bobby made a face. “I don’t like beans.”

“Bobby,” Beau said gently.

“Why not? They’re good, and they make you grow up big and strong. My mom always made me eat my green beans, and look at me.” He sat up straight, and Bobby’s eyes widened.

“These are green and yellow beans together,” Beau clarified.

“Even better. The yellow ones make you smarter. I really like those. And it’s good to be smart.” Dante nudged Bobby. “I’ll make a deal with you. If you eat all your beans, then after dinner, I’ll see if they have any ice cream for dessert.”

Bobby shook his head. “There’s cake.” He pushed out his lower lip. “I can’t have cake. It has gluten in it.” He turned away, his little shoulders drooping.

“I see.” Dante pulled out his phone and made a very quick call to Harriet at the house, then began to eat. When he was done with his starter, his salad was placed in front of him, and he ate it slowly. As he finished, the lady from the other couple, who had been quiet so far, asked him about what the Foundation did. “It’s to better the people and community of St. Giles and Maryland in general, though we localize our work to the Eastern Shore. We take proposals from anyone and evaluate them for community impact and need.”

“Do you get anything out of it?” she asked.

“I own the porcelain works, and half the profits go into the Foundation. We invest the money and then arrange to distribute the earnings through our projects. The principal is never touched, and so far it has grown each year through contributions.” Dante finished his salad and glanced at Bobby, who was carefully eating one piece of lettuce at a time.

“I’m Clyde Harrison, and this is my wife, Jean. I’m a second-shift foreman at the porcelain works.” He reached across the table to shake hands, and Jean did the same. They both seemed nervous, like if they said one wrong thing, Dante would fire him.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jean.” He turned to Clyde. “I’ve seen you at the plant.” He thought for a second. “You were the one who came up with the idea to reroute the laboratory-ware line last year. That was a great idea, and it’ll be done next month. We figure it will save us quite a bit.” Dante had already arranged a bonus for him, but he’d let that work through the channels.

The conversation died, and Dante turned to Bobby, who had eaten about half his salad and seemed to be finished. “Are you done?” Dante asked him, and Bobby nodded. The servers collected their plates and brought the dinners.

“Do I have to eat all this?” Bobby whispered. “Mama says I have to clean my plate and not waste food.” He looked at him and then at Beau.

“Just eat what you want and have some of the beans.” Dante winked, and Bobby took a bite of the beans and ate a few before starting on the rest. Beau helped Bobby cut his meat, and then the kid ate like a trooper. “Is it good?” Dante asked.

Bobby grinned, nodded, and went back to eating. Dante took a few bites and ate a little of the roast beef. It was okay. The potatoes weren’t exceptional. He ate the vegetables and enough of the rest to make his hunger abate and then waited for his plate to be cleared.

As the conversation in the room increased while the courses were changed, Dante excused himself and left the room. Roberts stood waiting for him. “Harriet added some ice to make sure this stayed cold.”

“Thank you.” Dante took the small cooler bag and carried it back into the banquet room. Pieces of cake had been distributed, with one sitting in front of each place, including Bobby’s, taunting the poor kid. Dante moved the cake aside and opened the bag. Dante took out a bowl of Harriet’s homemade chocolate ice cream and set it at Bobby’s place. “Guaranteed gluten-free.”

“Thank you!” Bobby said and began to eat like he hadn’t just had dinner.

About the Author

Andrew grew up in western Michigan with a father who loved to tell stories and a mother who loved to read them. Since then he has lived throughout the country and traveled throughout the world. He has a master’s degree from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and works in information systems for a large corporation.

Andrew’s hobbies include collecting antiques, gardening, and leaving his dirty dishes anywhere but in the sink (particularly when writing)  He considers himself blessed with an accepting family, fantastic friends, and the world’s most supportive and loving partner. Andrew currently lives in beautiful, historic Carlisle, Pennsylvania.

Author Links

For Other Works by Andrew Grey

(Please Be Sure To Stop by His Website to See All of His Works)

Kim Dias on Writing, Stories and her release ‘Breakfast at Midnight’ (guest post)

Breakfast at Midnight by Kim Dias
Dreamspinner Press
Cover art by L.C. Chase

Release Date:
Sales Links: Dreamspinner Press

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to host Kim Dias here today on her Breakfast at Midnight tour.  Welcome, Kim.

✒︎

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words Interview with the author of Breakfast at Midnight… Kim Dias

  • How much of yourself goes into a character?

I find this one of the hardest questions to answer because, well, I don’t really know! I definitely share traits with several of my characters, but when I’ve finished writing, I sometimes feel as though there’s more of my characters in me than there is of me in them. Which can make me feel a little bit crazy sometimes! When a character has a really strong voice, I’ll sometimes find myself talking in their voice rather than them talking in mine. It’s a good thing, I think. I’d rather have their voices come easily to me than struggle with them.

  • Have you ever put a story away, thinking it just didn’t work? Then years/months/whatever later inspiration struck and you loved it? Is there a title we would recognize if that happened?

This happens more with characters than with plots. I’ll often have a character in my head for years and years before I find the right story for them. Shawn from my short story “How to Build a Shed” was one of those characters. He was in my head for ages before I managed to find the right story for him.

  • Do you like HFN or HEA? And why?

Do you mean choosing one over the other? Because I really can’t do that. It depends on the story. If the ending fits the story, I like it. I hate seeing a happy ending forced into a story, the same way I hate seeing sad endings forced into a story because a happy one didn’t seem artsy enough, I guess.

  • Do you have a favorite among your own stories? And why?

My two favourites are “How to Build a Shed” and “Two Captains”. I really love the storyline of “How to Build a Shed”; it takes me to such a happy place, and I love my characters in that one. As for “Two Captains”, well, I call it “my queer lady pirate story”, and I love it just for the fact that I can give it that description. It does important things for representation, I think, and I’m incredibly proud of it.

  • If you could imagine the best possible place for you to write, where would that be and why?

My current work station is pretty great—it’s just a desk set up in my bedroom, but its atmosphere is really conducive to getting work done. It’s also where I got the news about Breakfast at Midnight’s publication, so there are very fond memories associated with this desk.

But if I’m dreaming, I’d love a house on the beach with a study overlooking the ocean. A big desk. A whiteboard on the wall so I can scribble down my ideas when they’re overflowing from my head. Bookshelves absolutely filled with books. Someone to bring me cups of tea.

I have a hard time working when I’m surrounded by clutter. My desk is currently a mess and I’m struggling with everything. I need to set aside some time for cleaning because clutter at my work station seems to create clutter in my brain.

  • What’s next for you as an author?

I’m currently at school. I’m majoring in writing at the University of Victoria in Canada. So there’s lots of writing, but it isn’t always the kind of writing I want to be doing. My current goal is to survive this semester, but I’m always playing with ideas for my own creative pursuits. Editing Breakfast at Midnight was such a rewarding, but exhausting experience that I haven’t ventured out into romance since we wrapped up, but I think it’s time. I want to write about people falling in love again. It’s my favourite thing to do.

About Breakfast at Midnight

Hope can be found in unexpected places.

Lonely, still struggling with his divorce, and suffering from writer’s block, successful thriller author Fred spends much more time in an all-night Denny’s than is healthy for any man. It’s the last place he thought he’d meet someone like Callum, who has literally run away from the internationally famous boy band Leos.

Despite their age difference, the two become friends, and their long nights of soul-searching might help them find the courage to face their problems: Fred’s deteriorating relationship with his daughter and Callum’s career issues. It’s easy for their lives to tangle together, and each might provide the other the means to move beyond the past—even if it’s not a journey they can take together.

About the Author

Kim Dias has been writing for years, but has been making up stories for what feels like forever. She writes love stories, preferably with a side of hot sex; Literary Review’s Bad Sex in Fiction Awards constantly inspire her to do better.

When not focused on her studies at the University of Victoria, Kim spends her time working on her novel, which she swears will one day be finished. She loves dogs, reading in front of fireplaces, and days spent in the sunshine. She believes whole-heartedly that stories can change the world.

You can find her online at kimdias.tumblr.com.

Sean Michael on the Ghostly Twists and Turns of Writing ‘The Supers (The Supers #1)’ (guest blog)

The Supers (The Supers #1) by Sean Michael
A Dreamspun Beyond Title
Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: Aaron Anderson

Release Date: October 15th 2017

Buy links: Dreamspinner PressAmazonBarnes & NobleKobo  

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to have Sean Michael here today on his tour for his latest story The Supers. Welcome, Sean.

✒︎

 

First off, thank you to Scattered Thoughts and Rogue words for hosting me today!

Every now and then I find myself watching a ghost hunting show, but I never thought I’d be writing a book about ghost hunters! The Supernatural Explorers – The Supers for short – are a band of gay men who go ghost hunting. They’re searching for their big break – they want a TV show of their own.

I wasn’t sure when I started writing this book what the conflict was going to be – I guess you could say that I was doing some ghost hunting of my own! I thought maybe it was going to be the whole trying to get a TV show thing and that their success would be the big finish. True to form, though, these guys who appeared in my head, had their own agenda (or at least the ghosts they were hunting did) and as I wrote, the whole plotline unravelled in front of me and suddenly I had a story that was so much more than just trying to get a show. That’s all I’m going to say, though – I wouldn’t want to spoil anyone.

I had a lot of fun writing the book (even the gross parts) and I hope you enjoy reading it!

Sean Michael
Smut fixes everything

About The Supers

Hunting ghosts and finding more than they bargained for.

Blaine Franks is a member of the paranormal research group the Supernatural Explorers. When the group loses their techie to a cross-country move, newly graduated Flynn Huntington gets the job. Flynn fits in with the guys right off the bat, but when it comes to him and Blaine, it’s more than just getting along.

Things heat up between Blaine and Flynn as they explore their first haunted building together, an abandoned hospital. Their relationship isn’t all that progresses, though, and soon it seems that an odd bite on Blaine’s neck has become much more.

Hitchhiking ghosts, a tragic love story forgotten by time, and the mystery of room 204 round out a romance where the things that go bump in the night are real.

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:

WEBSITE: http://www.seanmichaelwrites.com
BLOG: http://seanmichaelwrites.blogspot.ca
FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/SeanMichaelWrites/
TWITTER: seanmichael09
INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/seanmichaelpics/

Love SyFy? Here’s a Must Read New Novel! The Stark Divide (Liminal Sky #1) by J. Scott Coatsworth (author interview and excerpt)

The Stark Divide (Liminal Sky #1) by J. Scott Coatsworth

DSP Publications
Cover Artist: Aaron Anderson

Buy Links:

DSP Publications (paperback)DSP Publications (eBook) | AmazonBarnes & NobleKobo iBooksGoodreads | 

QueeRomance Ink

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to have J. Scott Coatsworth here today on his tour for his new release, The Stark Divide.   Welcome, Scott and thanks for agreeing to answer our author questions!

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words Interview with J. Scott Coatsworth

  • How much of yourself goes into a character?

Hmmm, that’s hard to say – mostly my characters are amalgams of other people I know. But of course, my experiences filter into just about any character I write. Still, I’d say the closest to me is probably Alex in my short story “Flames”, and Alex’s mother is totally my mom. 😛

  • Does research play a role into choosing which genre you write?  Do you enjoy research or prefer making up your worlds and cultures?

Not exactly? Although it’s always easier to write a story set in a fantasy or sci fi setting because you get to make up most of the details. I have written some stories set in real places that did require a fair amount of research – the epitome of this being “Through the Veil”, a post climate change tale set in a half-drowned San Francisco. We drove down there to survey the drowned parts and figure out what would be above water. It was a lot of fun. 😛

  • Has your choice of childhood or teenage reading genres carried into your own choices for writing?

Yes… I’ve had a soft spot for sci fi and fantasy since I started reading adult novels in third grade. I devoured the Lord of the Rings and lived in Pern for a couple months. I spun around the sun inside Rama, and gloried at Psychohistory’s potential. It definitely informed my writing desires as I grew up. I wanted to make those worlds that I used to live in as a kid.

  • Who do you think is your major influence as a writer?  Now and growing up?

Hmmm… growing up, it was probably Anne McCaffrey and J.R.R. Tolkien. Both crafted amazingly detailed worlds full of danger and great beauty. I remember asking for “Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern” for Christmas in 1984, and being so thrilled when my Dad (who had no idea what it was) bought it for me.

More recently? Peter F. Hamilton has inspired me with his trains that cross between worlds and his worlds that are living things. And Sheri Tepper, who just recently passed away, wrote stories that left me thinking afterwards for days and weeks.

I’m also finding inspiration lately from Black Mirror, a fantastic sci fi show out of the UK that’s a latter-day Twilight Zone. The way this show projects the now into the future has to be seen to be believed.

  • How do you choose your covers?  (curious on my part)

Um, they choose me? LOL… Seriously, the publishers put them together, but I usually get input. In the case of The Stark Divide, DSPP presented me with two amazing covers by Aaron Anderson, but neither quite captured the feel of Forever, the world in the story. So I asked him to go back to the drawing board, and he came up with the amazing cover (minus a few tweaks) that went on the final book. I love working with artists and seeing how they interpret my writer vision.

  • Do you have a favorite among your own stories?  And why?

“Flames.” It’s set in Tucson (my home town). It includes Italian, my second language. The mother is basically my mom. And it’s about marriage equality. It’s one of my most romantic tales.

  • What’s next for you as an author?

I’m currently writing the sequel to “The Stark Divide.” If all goes as planned, “The Rising Tide” will come out in October of 2018. I also recently finished “Lander,” the sequel to Skythane. And I plan to release “The River City Chronicles” in print and ebook form early next year.

Blurb

Some stories are epic.

The Earth is in a state of collapse, with wars breaking out over resources and an environment pushed to the edge by human greed.

Three living generation ships have been built with a combination of genetic mastery, artificial intelligence, technology, and raw materials harvested from the asteroid belt. This is the story of one of them—43 Ariadne, or Forever, as her inhabitants call her—a living world that carries the remaining hopes of humanity, and the three generations of scientists, engineers, and explorers working to colonize her.

From her humble beginnings as a seedling saved from disaster to the start of her journey across the void of space toward a new home for the human race, The Stark Divide tells the tales of the world, the people who made her, and the few who will become something altogether beyond human.


Humankind has just taken its first step toward the stars.

Book One of Liminal Sky

Excerpt

DRESSLER, SCHEMATIC,” Colin McAvery, ship’s captain and a third of the crew, called out to the ship-mind.

A three-dimensional image of the ship appeared above the smooth console. Her five living arms, reaching out from her central core, were lit with a golden glow, and the mechanical bits of instrumentation shone in red. In real life, she was almost two hundred meters from tip to tip.

Between those arms stretched her solar wings, a ghostly green film like the sails of the Flying Dutchman.

“You’re a pretty thing,” he said softly. He loved these ships, their delicate beauty as they floated through the starry void.

“Thank you, Captain.” The ship-mind sounded happy with the compliment—his imagination running wild. Minds didn’t have real emotions, though they sometimes approximated them.

He cross-checked the heading to be sure they remained on course to deliver their payload, the man-sized seed that was being dragged on a tether behind the ship. Humanity’s ticket to the stars at a time when life on Earth was getting rapidly worse.

All of space was spread out before him, seen through the clear expanse of plasform set into the ship’s living walls. His own face, trimmed blond hair, and deep brown eyes, stared back at him, superimposed over the vivid starscape.

At thirty, Colin was in the prime of his career. He was a starship captain, and yet sometimes he felt like little more than a bus driver. After this run… well, he’d have to see what other opportunities might be awaiting him. Maybe the doc was right, and this was the start of a whole new chapter for mankind. They might need a guy like him.

The walls of the bridge emitted a faint but healthy golden glow, providing light for his work at the curved mechanical console that filled half the room. He traced out the T-Line to their destination. “Dressler, we’re looking a little wobbly.” Colin frowned. Some irregularity in the course was common—the ship was constantly adjusting its trajectory—but she usually corrected it before he noticed.

“Affirmative, Captain.” The ship-mind’s miniature chosen likeness appeared above the touch board. She was all professional today, dressed in a standard AmSplor uniform, dark hair pulled back in a bun, and about a third life-sized.

The image was nothing more than a projection of the ship-mind, a fairy tale, but Colin appreciated the effort she took to humanize her appearance. Artificial mind or not, he always treated minds with respect.

“There’s a blockage in arm four. I’ve sent out a scout to correct it.”

The Dressler was well into slowdown now, her pre-arrival phase as she bled off her speed, and they expected to reach 43 Ariadne in another fifteen hours.

Pity no one had yet cracked the whole hyperspace thing. Colin chuckled. Asimov would be disappointed. “Dressler, show me Earth, please.”

A small blue dot appeared in the middle of his screen.

Dressler, three dimensions, a bit larger, please.” The beautiful blue-green world spun before him in all its glory.

Appearances could be deceiving. Even with scrubbers working tirelessly night and day to clean the excess carbon dioxide from the air, the home world was still running dangerously warm.

He watched the image in front of him as the East Coast of the North American Union spun slowly into view. Florida was a sliver of its former self, and where New York City’s lights had once shone, there was now only blue. If it had been night, Fargo, the capital of the Northern States, would have outshone most of the other cities below. The floods that had wiped out many of the world’s coastal cities had also knocked down Earth’s population, which was only now reaching the levels it had seen in the early twenty-first century.

All those new souls had been born into a warm, arid world.

We did it to ourselves. Colin, who had known nothing besides the hot planet he called home, wondered what it had been like those many years before the Heat.

About the Author

Scott spends his time between the here and now and the what could be. Enticed into fantasy and sci fi by his mom at the tender age of nine, he devoured her Science Fiction Book Club library. But as he grew up, he wondered where all the people like him were in the books he was reading.

He decided that it was time to create the kinds of stories he couldn’t find at his local bookstore. If there weren’t gay characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.

His friends say Scott’s mind works a little differently – he sees relationships between things that others miss, and gets more done in a day than most folks manage in a week. He loves to transform traditional sci fi, fantasy, and contemporary worlds into something unexpected.

Starting in 2014, Scott has published more than 15 works, including two novels and a number of novellas and short stories.

He runs both Queer Sci Fi and QueeRomance Ink with his husband Mark, sites that bring queer people together to promote and celebrate fiction that reflects their own lives.

Author Links: