Release Day Blitz Drama Queens and Adult Themes by Kevin Klehr (excerpt and giveaway)

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Title:  Drama Queens and Adult Themes

Series: Actors and Angels, book 2

Author: Kevin Klehr

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: May 22, 2017

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male, Male/Male Menage

Length: 62350

Genre: Fantasy, performance arts, contemporary, established relationship, angels, over 40, open relationship, age gap, ménage, cheating, drugs, death, romance, fantasy, paranormal, cisgender

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Synopsis

Adam’s about to discover how much drama a mid-life crisis can be. He’s obsessed with Mannix, the nude model in his art class. But Adam has been married to Wade for nearly two decades, and they don’t have an open relationship.

Little do they know that Fabien, a warlock from the Afterlife, has secretly cast a spell of lust on Adam and his potential toy-boy.

As things begin to heat up, Adam’s guardian angel, Guy, steps in. But what’s the best way to save the relationship? Should Guy subdue Adam’s wandering passions or instigate a steamy threesome?

Excerpt

Drama Queens and Adult Themes
Kevin Klehr © 2017
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One

Adam

He stood wearing a velvety white towel and an eager grin. Either could’ve disappeared at my whim. I smelled the freshly laundered lemon scent of the towel combined with the odor of his body sweat, which I was dying to lick from his forehead. I’m always a sucker for a devil-may-care attitude. It makes me weak at the knees in an instant, but in this case, I was already reclined in my gleaming white tub, so there was no danger of losing my balance. The water filled to the brim, and I knew that when he joined me, he would splash the tiles below.

I’d only known him for half an hour, and already I was under his spell. Was he a young man of style, or was he a man of simple tastes? Did he have a daytime career that gave him the world at his fingertips, or did he simply have the freedom of freelance engagements?

Time slowed as his luxurious towel fell to the floor. His body was not toned like a swimwear model. His features would never inspire a dozen wet dreams. It was his everyday physical qualities that were driving me wild. That tuft of silky chest hair that traced its way to his belly button. He even had a little flab. Not too much, just a tad. To me, it signaled a man of zero pretense.

But as the towel was now on the floor, his upper body wasn’t what I was focusing on. He lifted one leg and eased himself into the water. The other leg followed as instinct lured my face toward his luscious…

“At some point, Adam, you do need to put pencil to paper,” said my art teacher. He had crept up behind me.

My wayward daydream vanished. Hopefully, I’d find it again before bedtime. I blushed and so did the nude model. I quickly drew a line, but it wasn’t in keeping with the young man’s form.

I was startled at my own behavior. A man of my age wasn’t supposed to act like a starstruck teenager. My instructor gently gripped my hand and guided my pencil to create a more natural line.

The model winked at me as some of the other students chuckled. Another budding male artist with bleached-blond hair nodded in my direction, smiling slyly.

“Okay, I admit it. My mind was somewhere else, and I apologize to the model,” I said.

All eyes in the room were on me.

“I’m flattered,” the model replied.

“It’s not like me to act like this, seriously.”

“Can I get you a glass of water?” asked the teacher.

“Thanks but I’ll get one myself. I think I need a walk. I’ll catch up on my drawing as soon as I get back.”

I rushed out of the classroom. This was all too weird in my situation. I was in my early forties and still madly in love with the man I’d shared my life with for the last eighteen years. We had a healthy sex life, even though I fantasized more than I’d like to admit. In fact, any dreamy man wandering past my view would arouse my animal instincts faster than a straight guy in a room of lipstick lesbians. But this young man posing for art class had my tongue dragging so close to the floor I was licking it clean. I was definitely not ready for a midlife crisis, or so I thought.

I sat on a seat in the corridor. Was I capable of having a discreet fling? I lightly slapped myself on the cheek, waking up to how ridiculous this question was. Why would he want to have an affair with an old fart like me?

It was the middle of winter, and I could already feel chilled air on the tip of my nose. I stood up and headed for the bathroom. I splashed warm water on my face. I stared at the mirror, giving my reflection some sound advice.

“Adam, get a grip. You don’t know this guy, but suddenly he’s invaded your thoughts. Yes, I know he looks really cute up there with nothing but that devilish grin and a pair of turquoise socks, but come on now, he can’t be more than thirty!”

“Seems like you’re smitten,” alleged the bleached-blond student.

He had wandered through the door and was heading for the urinal.

“Were you standing outside long?”

“I heard you down the corridor. Nothing to be ashamed of, really. This is my fourth class, and I’ve had to draw that same model once before. He hasn’t got the perfect body, but boy has he got the perfect attitude. Alluring, and if there is a god, available.”

The blond zipped up his fly and wandered to the sink next to me.

“I agree, but I usually don’t go around acting like a schoolgirl with a crush.”

“Enjoy it. Not all their models have that much charisma.”

We escorted each other back to art class where the other students had made headway on their drawings. I focused on the model’s socks in an attempt to concentrate on my artwork, rather than the young man’s prominent feature. Soon the ankles were added before my pencil carefully outlined his masculine legs.

As I traced up to the hip, I sighed as I studied his most manly asset. How should I draw it? Would the teacher fail me if I portrayed it erect? After all, a great artist should display his own feelings on the sketchpad.

I decided to skip his crotch and draw his chest. His slightly defined chest. Not too developed, but not devoid of shape either. The small tuft of dark hair in the center of the upper body was outlined with great care. Outlining shape was one thing, but defining the type of chest hair someone had was another. A trail of thick small lines was carefully added to the picture from the torso to the navel.

“Okay folks, pencils down.”

The teacher wandered around the room giving us feedback. The charming model reached for a pair of frayed blue jeans, which were neatly folded over the back of a chair just an arm’s length away. He pulled them up and carefully buttoned the fly around his naked assets, as he clearly hadn’t brought underwear.

“We’ll have him back in a couple of weeks if you want to complete this particular drawing,” said the teacher.

He gave me a cheeky look.

“How far did you get?” asked the model.

He grabbed his dusty-pink T-shirt and snuggled into it tightly.

“Not as far as I would have liked,” I replied.

“Let’s see.”

He strolled over to my unfinished work. I was anxious by the thought of only a patch of denim between me and the model’s private bulge. I concentrated on my artwork and tried not to let the man’s proximity lead me to more wicked thoughts. Who was I kidding?

I had to divert my attention to our teacher instead, who was heading my way. He was a funky, retired chap. Black thick-rimmed glasses, peppered hair, and beard with a gentle face. The kind of man who’d take long walks with his wife in the park and watch Sunday arts programs on television.

“For the short amount of time you spent on this, you did pretty well for a newcomer,” he said. “But what are these strange lines to his side?”

“Um, I had this desire to add wings to my subject.”

“Wings?”

“I know it’s odd, but you did say at the beginning of class not to be constrained by what we see, and that we all see characteristics differently.”

“Yeah, but wings? Are you picturing our model as some kind of angel?”

“Why not? I’m seeing caring characteristics.”

The young man gave me a saintly smile. The teacher stroked his chin before pointing to the socks I’d drawn.

“Are my ankles really that shape?” the model asked.

He bent over to take a closer look. I wanted to bury my tongue in the nape of his neck and lick off any imaginary sweat.

“Yes, that’s the shape of your ankles,” the instructor replied. He gestured toward a student near the window. “Ian over there did a better job on your ankles, but Adam really did well on your socks. The way the shape of the feet peep through the cotton is not something I expect from a first-timer.”

“Thanks,” I replied. “I used to do a little sketch work last year but only amateur stuff. Still life from things around the house. A clock, fruit, dirty laundry, that sort of thing.”

“Bring in your drawings next week. I’d like to see them.” He spoke up to address the class. “Now let’s check out Ian’s work, and Carla’s. Ian knows his ankles, and Carla’s good with faces.”

We walked over to look at Ian’s sketch as the other students followed. Ian’s careful study of the model’s feet almost made them look bare. Carla captured the man’s cheeky smirk skillfully, making that feature alone the highlight of her image. The budding blond artist did his best work with the chest and hips, although they were considerably more masculine than they needed to be.

We all made the rounds, admiring and commenting on the other artworks before ending back at my attempt. There were unanimous compliments about the socks, sparking the suspicion that I must have a foot fetish. Like anyone, I had my kinks, but sucking toes was not one of them. There’s something about a tinea marinade that just doesn’t float my boat.

“You know, Adam, maybe you’re onto something with the angel wings,” said Carla. “I would have put a wry smile and devil horns on him, just because I think he’s cheeky. But you see him as virtuous.”

“Divine, maybe, but not virtuous,” I replied.

Everyone strolled back to their easels to pack away their portraits except for the appealing model. He stayed to chat. He even helped me roll up the drawing as I studied the way his skillful hands worked with a cylindrical object.

“I’ll be back here in a couple of weeks if you want to finish the picture. They use me at least once a month.”

“Getting naked doesn’t bother you?”

“I have open-minded parents. They used to take me to nudist beaches when I was a kid.”

“Only child?”

“Only child.”

“Spoiled?”

“A bit. Still am, I suppose, even living away from home. Mum’s always dropping off baked dinners or cookies for me and my flatmate. You’d think we can’t fend for ourselves.”

“I’m Adam,” I said.

I raised my hand, and he shook it firmly.

“Mannix. Please don’t ask what my parents were thinking when they came up with that name. On marijuana or something.”

“I like it.”

“I want to change it, eventually.”

“What to?”

“At this stage, I haven’t a clue.”

“Keep it. It sounds like the name of a secret agent.”

“Yeah, a pretty lame one at that.”

Mannix handed me my picture as I beamed at him, probably resembling a lonely bachelor with a crush on an enigmatic porn star.

“I’m honored you were taken with the subject matter,” he teased.

“Between you and me, Mannix, that’s never happened to me before. I’m sorry if I was staring.”

“Not blowing my own trumpet or anything, but Adam, you wouldn’t be the first.” He winked, which kind of made me feel embarrassed. “Do you need a lift somewhere?”

“It’s okay. I have my car.”

Instantly, I regretted this admission of car ownership. Could I grab those words from the air and stuff them back in my mouth? My beautiful partner, Wade, was not going to be home for at least another hour and a half, and maybe, just maybe? I snapped back from my adolescent thoughts and sighed.

“Do you want a nightcap before going home?” he asked.

“Yes!” I replied with the zeal of a henpecked man about to get a lap dance. “I mean, sure. That’s a good idea. Whatever you want. Drink. Good suggestion.”

“Is that bar on Clarence Street on your way home?”

“As a matter of fact, it is.”

It was actually in the opposite direction.

“Looks like we’ve got a date.”

He walked ahead of me before helping get my pencils and my sketch onto the passenger seat of my car. It was a ten-year-old modest two-door hatch, which Wade and I had bought secondhand. We both used to drive it before my partner fell in love with a flashier sedan he’d found at a dealership.

I thanked Mannix as he walked to the opposite row of vehicles parked at the neighborhood center. The beep of the automatic lock made a sporty little mini double blink its headlights.

The young man eased into his understated luxury car with unassuming confidence. I was a sucker for material items I couldn’t afford, especially this type of tasteful indulgence. Mannix teased his engine before letting his vehicle make its way out of the car park.

I sat there for a minute or two, wondering if I was doing the right thing. After all, I was only going for a drink. Wasn’t I? Guilt was rising through my body. I could see Mannix climbing over me into that imaginary bathtub again. His basket of goodies inviting this old wolf to sample.

I turned the key and started my engine. As I made my way to the street, my thoughts alternated between Technicolor adultery and refined G-rated friendship. Did Mannix have an ulterior motive, or was I full of wishful thinking? It wouldn’t be hard to hide this fling from Wade, even if we just decided to meet up on another night when I was supposed to be at art class.

No, bugger it. Why wait? There was a bathtub waiting at home, and Wade was at his salsa lesson and wouldn’t be home for at least another hour. The tub would be filled to the brim, a bottle of champagne, two glasses, and a Northern soul compilation drifting in from the lounge room.

But then, I wondered what would happen if Wade’s dancing partner, Tim, didn’t need a lift home. He’d be home early. How would I have explained my need to bathe? Perhaps the other students attacked me with their charcoal crayons. Maybe the teacher hated my work so much that I was berated to the point of needing to soak up the tension.

I pictured Mannix on our sofa when Wade came home. I would try several coded words to let my husband know that a threesome was on my mind.

But this wasn’t our style. We didn’t invite costars to our bed. In fact, like most long-term couples we went through phases of being either solely devoted or acting more like two confident individuals. In recent months, we’d behaved like old souls who knew we couldn’t live without each other. We’d hold each other before we fell into slumber and awake needing to possess each other again. But it might have been fun to share that experience with Mannix.

I pulled up in front of the pub, still reeling from my own errant imagination. I took one deep breath to jolt myself back to reality. It didn’t really work. My sense of guilt magnified while I pictured that bathtub again and Mannix’s soft lips cruising toward my own.

“Adam, are you okay?”

My gaze darted to the person who was knocking on the windscreen. It was Mannix, curious to why I was taking so long to get out of my car.

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.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | YouTube | Vimeo

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Release Day Blitz: Nate and the New Yorker by Kevin Klehr (excerpt and giveaway)

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Title:  Nate and the New Yorker

Series: Nate and Cameron, Book 1

Author: Kevin Klehr

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: May 1, 2017

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 23300

Genre: Contemporary, cisgender, contemporary, cross-dressing, depression, gay, grief, long distance relationship, non-explicit, paranormal, reunited, romance, vacation

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Synopsis

Cameron has it all. He’s rich, lives in Manhattan, and even has a cross-dressing butler. But then he meets Nate, an Australian who’s bitter about love. Cameron is determined to turn this realist into a dreamer by sharing his world of classy restaurants, Broadway shows, and fabulous parties. And while Nate’s friends see the makings of a fantasy romance, it’s Nate who has to learn that in order to open his heart, he has to face a painful secret.

Excerpt

Nate and the New Yorker
Kevin Klehr © 2017
All Rights Reserved

Trailer: https://youtu.be/p3zjFttpjXc

Both Cameron and I had Hawaiian shirts to wear, while Rowena sported a tie-dyed sarong and an afro wig. And around us, interesting guests wore chic little skirts, James Dean–style jackets, hippie gear, and mod wear.

“You haven’t introduced me yet,” said a middle-aged woman to Cameron. Her rust-colored coat had a masculine cut. Yet she elegantly held a long-stemmed cigarette holder with something that smelled very much like a joint burning on the end.

“Sorry,” said my charming American. “This is my friend, Nathan. And this well-dressed lady is my aunt Beverley.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

She took my hand and kissed it. “I hope you don’t think me too forward; it’s just that you’ve got such fascinating features.”

“My aunt likes to flirt.”

“It runs in the family,” she replied. She gave me a measured wink. “Now, nephew, where have you been hiding this handsome Englishman?”

“I’m Australian.”

“It’s your accent. I never can tell the difference.”

“I need you!” yelled a girl in a flower necklace. She was the drummer of the band and was addressing our host.

“It’s time,” Cameron said.

“Time for what?” I asked.

He kissed me on the cheek and then headed for the microphone stand.

“You’re in for a treat,” whispered Aunt Beverley, her voice raspy from years of smoking.

“He sings?” I asked.

“He sings,” she replied.

A laid-back strum of the bass guitar started the song, followed by a drum beat. Then the vocal. And before I knew it, I was being serenaded in front of a room full of acquaintances. But, wow! What a unique experience.

“I’ve never seen him go out on a limb for someone like this before,” said his aunt.

I smiled politely, then closed my eyes. He was crooning. His honey voice made my soul rise out of my body and search for a dream. And in the hip nightclub that appeared in my mind, he wore a gray suit with a crimson tie, standing tall in front of the trumpet section who were waiting for their cue. And I was the only one in the club.

“Where are you?” asked Aunt Beverley in a low tone.

I wanted to say I was in love but stopped myself. I realized it was rude to have my eyes closed during Cam’s song. I opened them. He had me in his sights. I wanted to jump into the waves on his Hawaiian shirt and end up on a deserted island with just him and me.

“Would you like a toke of my cigarette, Nathan?”

“No, thank you. I think the fumes have already hit me.”

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.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | YouTube | Vimeo

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Its Alina Popsecu’s Free Books Five Days Birthday Celebration! (Book Giveaway)

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Strength To Let Go (Tales of the Werewolf Tribes #1)

by Alina Popescu

My birthday is coming up next week and I’m celebrating with five days of free books.

FREE BOOK ALERT

Strength to Let Go by Alina Popescu is free from April 1 to April 5

Hurry up and get your copy of this #gay #paranormal #romance from Amazon!

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MT6EZOB

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01MT6EZOB

Amazon DE: https://www.amazon.de/dp/B01MT6EZOB

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B01MT6EZOB

After being abandoned by his mates, Shiki Kirishima, beta of the Dragons of the Fang werewolf tribe, returns to his home in Tokyo. Overwhelmed by grief, he decides to end it all by going into Siberian Killer territory and challenging the tribe to a battle to the death.

His death.

The Killer’s beta, Ganzorig, grasps the potentially disastrous consequences of his tribe killing Shiki, and saves him instead. Having suffered loss, Ganz takes it upon himself to help Shiki deal with his pain, then return him safely to his tribe.

Shiki’s best friend since childhood, Blake, is as determined as Ganzorig to show him there is life after a wolf’s ultimate loss, that of a mate.

Once Shiki leaves the seclusion of Ganzorig’s compound and returns to Tokyo, Blake is the only person he allows near. Blake is more than happy to give Shiki space to lick his wounds and deal with everything in his place. Shielded from his responsibilities to his family and tribe, and cocooned in Blake’s care, Shiki thrives on his journey to healing.

As the real world pushes its way in, with competing tribes causing trouble, children to worry about, and exes to deal with, will Shiki be able to cope or will he spiral back to a state of pure misery? And is there room for more than friendship between him and Blake?

Links to my shares:

Twitter – https://twitter.com/alina_popescu/status/848138794591236096

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/authoralinapopescu/photos/a.260653140743638.1073741829.260041824138103/895121023963510/?type=3

In the YA Spotlight: A Boy Worth Knowing by Jennifer Cosgrove (excerpt and giveaway)

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Title:  A Boy Worth Knowing

Author: Jennifer Cosgrove

Publisher:  NineStar Press – SunFire Imprint

Release Date: March 20

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 62200

Genre: Romance, Young Adult, NineStar Press, LGBT, gay, bisexual, romance, young adult, contemporary, paranormal, coming of age, ghosts, family drama, high school, bullying

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Synopsis

Ghosts can’t seem to keep their opinions to themselves.

Seventeen-year-old Nate Shaw should know; he’s been talking to them since he was twelve. But they aren’t the only ones making his high school years a living hell. All Nate wants is to keep his secret and keep his head down until he can graduate. That is, until the new boy, James Powell, takes a seat next to him in homeroom. James not only notices him, he manages to work his way into Nate’s life. But James has issues of his own.

Between dead grandmothers and living aunts, Nate has to navigate the fact that he’s falling in love with his only friend, all while getting advice from the most unusual places.

Ghosts, bullies, first love: it’s a lot to deal with when you’re just trying to survive senior year.

Excerpt

A Boy Worth Knowing
Jennifer Cosgrove © 2017
All Rights Reserved

I loved autumn mornings.

The October air was just cold enough to set my lungs on fire, my breath visible in clouds of condensation, forcing all of the crap clogging up my head into the recycle bin. Bonus, I could pretend I was a dragon. Nothing could touch me; my morning run made everything go away, lost in miles at a time. Down an isolated country road.

Everything changed when I was twelve, and not for the better. That was when I started running. Five years of road I’d put behind me. My mom worried about me the first time I took off alone. Well, when she used to worry about me. I wished she was more worried about the reason I was running instead of the fact I was doing it down an empty road.

I turned the corner about a mile after leaving home, and that was when I saw him. Samuel was always lurking among the sunken headstones. Most people had no clue there used to be a cemetery out there. Looking closely, some of the stones that made up the foundation of the chapel could still be seen. No one else ever paid that much attention to it. Samuel glared at me as I got closer. He was a surly one.

My life was like the horror movies I loved. I talked to the dead. Well, technically dead. They were really spirits, or whatever. Whatever was left behind when people died. And they talked to me, for some reason. There was nothing like sitting in math class and having a ghost whisper in my ear while trying to take notes.

It happened all the damn time. I didn’t know how to handle it at first. And no one wanted to hang out with the crazy kid in the back of the room, muttering away to himself. I got used to it. Really. And the lack of a social life helped me get all of my homework done on time; all of the teachers loved me. That was good. Talking to ghosts wasn’t all bad.

I waved at Samuel as I ran by the cemetery. He shook a fist at me in return. Samuel wasn’t evil or anything, just grumpy. Couldn’t blame him, though. I looked him up one time and found out he’d died in the late eighteen hundreds. The cause of death on record was a heart attack. But Samuel told me his brother-in-law had poisoned him because he wouldn’t sell him his prize mule. I had no clue what was so special about that mule, but his brother-in-law evidently thought it was worth killing him over. I’d have been pretty surly myself.

Past the forgotten cemetery, a few miles to the McGregor farm, and then I’d swing around for home. Yes, I said McGregor farm. Small-town life— I couldn’t have made this stuff up if I’d tried.

There was another house just past the farm where I had to watch out for their beast of a dog. Dogs weren’t huge fans of mine. My Nana had a theory they could sense a bit of whatever it was that let us chat with those who’d “passed on.” I had no idea how that was even possible, but cats loved me, so yay.

Speaking of which, Aunt Susan’s overly fluffy cat waited by our mailbox. Arthur did that every time I went out for a run. He would sit there and then fall in behind to follow up the driveway until we got to the house. Then, it was a shady spot on the porch in the summer or, if it was cold like that day, into the house in front of the fireplace. I loved predictability.

The house used to be my grandmother’s. It was a standard farmhouse, old and creaky just like dozens more all around us, and it could have stood a little paint. But we called it home, and we liked it. It became Aunt Susan’s home. It had been left to her after Nana died, since my mom already owned one. It was a little out of the way and a long drive to the hospital where my aunt worked. But it was paid for, and that meant a lot.

I had to be quiet going in because Aunt Susan was not a morning person, and the floor squeaked just inside the back door. I was very much a morning person, and I followed the same routine each school or work day. Flipping on the coffee maker, I headed to my room to get ready for school. I got the shower running, since it took a while to heat up in an old farmhouse, and took a sniff to make sure a shower was actually necessary. Oh, yeah. I was gross.

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Meet the Author

Jennifer has always been a voracious reader and a well-established geek from an early age. She loves comics, movies, and anything that tells a compelling story.

When not writing, she likes knitting, dissecting/arguing about movies with her husband, and enjoying the general chaos that comes with having kids.

Website | Twitter | Goodreads | eMail

Tour Schedule

3/20 – My Fiction Nook

3/20 – Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words

3/20 – Just Love

3/21 – Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews

3/21 – Diverse Reader

3/21 – Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents

3/22 – V’s Reads

3/22 – Molly Lolly

3/22 – MM Good Book Reviews

3/23 – Liz’s Reading Life

3/23 – Stories That Make You Smile

3/23 – Dog-Eared Daydreams

3/24 – Bayou Book Junkie

3/24 – Boy Meets Boy Reviews

3/24 – Love Bytes Reviews

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Release Day Blitz: The Broken Butterfly (In the Shadows #2) by Caitlin Ricci (excerpt and giveaway)

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Title:  The Broken Butterfly

Series: In the Shadows, book 2

Author: Caitlin Ricci

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: March 6

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 14900

Genre: Romance, NineStar Press, LGBT, gay, romance, ghost, demons, law enforcement, paranormal

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Synopsis

Carter is closer than ever to solving his latest cold case, but his disturbing dreams seem to be a warning to stay away from the truth. The victim, Jacob, deserves justice, and Carter can’t let a few bad dreams get in the way of that. When he goes to Malphas and Jamison for help, Carter learns that his dreams are more than they seem. What he learns is enough to send Malphas running, and as much as Carter wants to go with him and Jamison, he knows he can’t abandon Jacob so easily. Malphas says Jacob is being held by a powerful demon, and Carter knows he’s not in the business of doing favors for humans who aren’t Jamison. But to free Jacob, Carter is willing to do just about anything to convince Malphas to help him, even if it means making a deal with the devil.

Excerpt

The Broken Butterfly
Caitlin Ricci © 2017
All Rights Reserved

Some days Carter found it almost easy to be around Malphas. There were afternoons where Malphas would get Jamison and Carter drive-through cheeseburgers for lunch. He would sit quietly next to Jamison as if he was attempting to be on his best behavior during their lunch hour. During those afternoons, Carter could almost forget who Malphas was, what he was, and pretend he might have simply been a man Jamison was interested in and not the demon he actually was.

Then there were those times, like now, when Malphas was stretched out on the couch by himself while the three of them watched TV in the evenings. It had become routine since Carter had started staying with them. They each had a few slices of pizza in front of them, but unlike a normal person, Malphas had his pizza hovering in front of his face, close enough that he hardly had to move to take a bite, and whenever he wanted to turn the channel, he wiggled his fingers at the TV instead of using a remote.

Carter would have said something about how very nonhuman he was being, but it really didn’t matter. Malphas had gotten better about trying not to act so strangely when he was out with them or when he visited them at the precinct, and that was the important thing to remember when dealing with a demon. He was trying. Sometimes he still made light bulbs explode or people inexplicably changed their minds around him, especially when it benefited him or Jamison, but for the most part, Malphas was pretending to be just another normal human in the world. It was a relief not to have to feel like he had to constantly supervise the demon and remind him when he was acting out.

Two months ago, when Malphas had first come barreling into their lives, Carter would have never thought Malphas was anything other than a monster, and some days he hadn’t changed much at all, but he was always trying to be better. If only to please Jamison and stay on his good side.

Carter froze as he felt something warm drape over his shoulder. It still unnerved him sometimes to have his shadow around, especially since it was just a feeling and nothing nearly as corporeal as Malphas was. That would have made it easier, he was sure, if he could see whatever it was, whoever it was, that was following him around almost constantly.

“Is he here?” Carter asked Malphas. He’d started to give his shadow a gender. It made referring to him easier.

Malphas glanced over and then lifted his black eyes to something just above Carter’s shoulder. “Yep.” After a second, he added, “Well, it’s not my fault he can’t see you. Clearly you don’t belong in this realm. You should really go away.”

“That’s rich coming from a demon,” Carter replied, instantly coming to his shadow’s defense for no reason at all.

Jamison looked between them but said nothing. He’d been getting between them less and less. They hadn’t needed him to play referee when Malphas had shown no real interest in hurting Carter lately. There was the occasional jibe about him being an idiot, but even that had turned mostly playful.

Warmth spread down his shoulder to his arm, and Carter lifted his palm as the comfortable feeling flowed to his hand. He closed his eyes and imagined that whatever it was following him was holding his hand. Carter felt the slightest bit of pressure, but it wasn’t much, and he was half-certain he was actually imagining the whole thing.

“Hey,” he whispered. He could almost believe that he, whatever it was, was pushing back against him too.

Jamison got up from where he’d been sitting, and his movement distracted Carter enough that he lost the connection with his shadow.

“I wish I knew his name,” Carter said as he glanced behind him.

Mal snorted. “Why? He’s not actually part of this plane. He’s like…déjà vu or something like that. You know he’s here. I know he’s here. But he doesn’t actually exist here. It’s weird. He’s not a ghost or something like that. He’s stuck.”

That got Carter’s attention in a hurry, and Jamison paused on his way into the kitchen as well. “What do you mean he’s stuck?” Jamison asked Mal.

“Just that he’s where he is because he’s trapped there. It’s hard to explain to people who aren’t dead yet. When you die, I’ll show you.” Mal shrugged.

Purchase

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

Meet the Author

Caitlin was fortunate growing up to be surrounded by family and teachers that encouraged her love of reading. She has always been a voracious reader, and that love of the written word easily morphed into a passion for writing. She comes from a military family, and the men and women of the armed forces are close to her heart. She also enjoys gardening and horseback riding in the Colorado Rockies where she calls home with her wonderful husband and their two dogs. Her belief that there is no one true path to happily ever after runs deeply through all of her stories.

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Release Day Blitz: The Visionary by Charli Coty (excerpt and giveaway)

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Title:  The Visionary

Author: Charli Coty

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: January 30

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 78600

Genre: Romance, NineStar Press, paranormal, age gap, gay, LGBT, ESP, erotic romance, private detective

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Synopsis

Colin Page, eighteen-year-old community college student, apple polisher and all-around goody-goody, has a secret. He sees things that aren’t there. Unfortunately, the Doc Martens on the floor of the mail vestibule in his apartment building really are there and attached to a dead body. Hunkered over the body is someone Colin had barely noticed before, Private Investigator Al Green. Most people scare Colin, but for some reason, Al doesn’t, even after he reveals that he knows about the hidden reality of their world.

Alonzo Green, despite his low-power mind, is determined to help right the wrongs he unknowingly contributed to. He’s also hopelessly smitten. He knows it’s wrong—probably even dangerous—to enlist Colin’s help with the investigation. And that’s before considering all Al has to fear from Colin’s fiercely protective and powerful mother.

Colin and Al put some of the pieces together, but as soon as one thing becomes clear, the picture changes. The search for the Big Bad takes them from Portland to Tacoma and Seattle, and eventually to San Francisco, but their journey into each other’s arms is much shorter.

Excerpt

The Visionary

Charli Coty © 2017

All Rights Reserved

Colin always hesitated before getting into the rickety old elevator. It didn’t seem safe to ride in something, even four floors, if you could see the individual boards―which looked suspiciously similar to two-by-fours―vibrating. Or maybe it had more to do with the dust, grime, and cobwebs coating every visible surface, or maybe the preconceived notion he’d had that college would be different from high school. He held his breath and stepped in as the door closed.

He looked around, and thought he was alone in the lobby until he’d made it halfway to the front door. Someone cursed, and Colin turned to see a pair of black Doc Martens lying on the floor, partially sticking out from the mailbox alcove. He recognized the white symbols hand drawn on the backs of the heels. The guy who owned those boots―Tattoo Guy―lived in the building, but he and Colin hadn’t done more than nod hello. Colin’s mom had warned him time and again not to talk to anyone in the building because he’d be dragged into some drama or other, and he needed to focus on school. Maybe Tattoo Guy was hurt and needed help. He couldn’t just leave.

He reached the juncture of the hallway and the alcove housing the tarnished little brass doors to everyone’s mailboxes and saw another familiar someone. The large man was hunkered down beside Tattoo Guy. He wore battered jeans and steel-toed boots with a hole in the leather of one toe. The neck of his dark-green T-shirt was stretched out of shape, and his black leather jacket looked a half size too small. Colin struggled to come up with a word to describe him but couldn’t think of an antonym to doppelganger. That man was everything Colin was not, especially tall and dark.

“What’s that purple mist?” Colin asked, startling himself. He never spoke to strangers, especially not about―

“It’s more a fog.”

Odd. The man didn’t seem surprised. It did remind Colin of pictures of fog rolling in around the Golden Gate Bridge. Only these misty tendrils were purple and gradually disappeared as they moved farther away from Tattoo Guy.

“Why won’t you answer me?”

“What else do you see?” He turned slightly toward Colin but remained hunkered down, studying Tattoo Guy but not touching him.

“Nothing.” Colin blinked, and that fast, it wasn’t true anymore. “Crap, his tattoo just moved.”

“The raven?”

“No. The flower.” The purple tendrils had decayed so much they’d stopped diverting Colin’s attention from the blood on Tattoo Guy’s arm and the back of his shirt. He was obviously more than hurt.

“The violet moved?”

“It slapped the cymbal. I heard it.” Colin thought about running, but his feet refused to move.

“Anything else?”

“Like what?”

“It’d help if one of them named the killer.” The large man stood slowly and brushed off his hands. A little over six feet tall and slightly bulky, his long shaggy hair and full beard shot through with gray made him look like a street person. “Some of these tats have mouths. Are they saying anything?”

“What?” Colin took a step back. “Aren’t you going to call the police?”

“Already have. But I plan on starting an investigation of my own. The police are busy. If he doesn’t have any family to make noise―and I know he doesn’t―they won’t put much effort into finding out who killed him.”

“Why do you think someone killed him?”

“Murder is purple.” He slowly reached into his jacket and smiled as he brought out a pastel-green business card. “I’m a private investigator. Al Green.”

Purchase

NineStar Press | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Smashwords

 

Meet the Author

Charli misspent a large chunk of her youth on the back of a Harley, meeting people and having adventures that sometimes pop up in her fiction. She grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area during a drought, and found her true home in the soggy Pacific Northwest. Charli has survived earthquakes, tornadoes, and floods, but couldn’t make it through one day without stories.

Charli Coty is a pseudonym of the author known as Charley Descoteaux.

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BLOG TOUR: People Fish by Medella Kingston (excerpt and giveaway)

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PeopleFish by Medella Kingston

Publisher:  NineStar Press
Release Date: January 23rd

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Synopsis

 

Her Cree grandmother called it the gift of seeing, but for Petra “Pete” Orvatch, knowing things in ways that defy explanation has made reality and fantasy blur in a world where the clocks literally go backward. Her fascinating and clairvoyant mind is a riddle that many doctors have tried to solve with medication. Love comes her way unexpectedly when she meets Fiona Angeli, a stunningly beautiful single mother. A risk-taker by nature, Fiona is not scared off by her new lover’s psychic abilities and eccentricities.

 

The two of them share passion and secrets on a magical and surprising journey, and their torrid love affair takes them to thrilling new places until betrayal divides them. Both these women fight battles within themselves; Fiona must gain control of her dangerous compulsions, and Pete’s onerous gift ultimately puts her at risk of losing herself in the gap between delusions and the real world.

 

Title:  PeopleFish
Author: Medella Kingston

 

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex
Pairing: Female/Female
Length: 118000

Genre: Romance, lesbian, bisexual, paranormal, Addiction, psychic ability, romance

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/33546115

Excerpt

PeopleFish

Medella Kingston © 2017

All Rights Reserved

 

 

Pete looked up from the mystery she was reading and scanned the faces in the waiting room. There was Tired Pinched Mom, with faded blond ponytail and dark roots coming in. She had one kid under control and was now quietly negotiating with the other. Next to this trio sat Man Too Large for His Seat, who seemed to be staring at his shoes or sleeping with his eyes open. In the corner was someone so nondescript she couldn’t instantly name her—then it came to her: Any Woman. This woman was neither thin nor large, short nor tall, and had a slightly exotic yet familiar face. She looked as if she could be from many different places, like Greece, Morocco, Central America, or New Jersey. She was text-messaging so quickly, Pete half expected her thumbs to spark and set fire to her phone.

 

Doesn’t anyone people-watch anymore? Was she the only person left who liked to read faces and create narratives? Maybe so. She’d never stop doing it. She’d been spinning this stuff since she was little—much to the annoyance of her mother. Instead of acknowledging the creative gifts of her child, or at the very least being entertained by them, she’d say, “God will punish you, Petra Marie, for thinking bad thoughts about people and making up lies.”

 

Some traits must skip generations, because Grandma Sweets had the right attitude. She’d join right in and embellish her granddaughter’s rough outlines of strangers’ lives with additions that could only come from a seasoned mind. If Pete said a passenger on the bus looked guilty, Gram Sweets would say, “Of course he looks guilty, he ought to! Instead of cooking a turkey for Thanksgiving, he cooked his wife!”

 

Her reminiscing was perforated by the staccato ring of a telephone.

 

“Cambridge Holistic Health and Wellness Center, please hold.”

 

Please hold? No one else is on the line; is this receptionista just fucking with the caller? Pete dog-eared the page in her paperback, closed it, slipped it into her bag, and decided to devote all of her energy to observing. She was just about to make up a story about the receptionist when her eyes landed on something strange. She hadn’t noticed the cheap plastic clock on the wallpapered wall before, but now she couldn’t take her eyes off it because the second hand was moving backward.

 

At first she thought she was seeing things, since her imagination was such a well-developed muscle. So she did something that made her feel seven instead of thirty-seven. She closed her eyes to reset, inhaled a long, slow breath, and then opened them, hoping this simple act could alter what she saw, or make things feel right again. She didn’t return her gaze to the clock right away, but rather avoided its face like you would dodge direct eye contact in a volley of flirt-and-stare with a stranger who’d caught you looking.

 

She panned her eyes evenly over all she had just taken in. Now the previously obedient child of the two was acting petulant, Man Too Large for His Seat actually was asleep, and Any Woman had stopped texting and was staring back at Pete. This startled her a bit. She looked away and then forced herself to look at the clock again. The red second hand was still moving backward and now instead of 2:27, it was 2:26, and the room seemed brighter to her than it had been just a minute ago.

 

“Petra Orvatch?”

 

She heard the automaton call her but she couldn’t move—she felt obligated to monitor the clock and confirm that it was in fact going backward, but knew she shouldn’t say anything about it. It was one of those times when she couldn’t expect people to understand her. These occurrences had happened ever since she could remember and could be confusing, amusing, or even downright dangerous.

Meet the Author

 

About the Author

Medella Kingston fell in love with writing at an early age and published articles, poems, and stories when she was growing up. She wrote, performed, and sold songs for movie soundtracks, and continued writing short stories for her own pleasure. She currently sings in the band Omnesia, which has aired locally on UC Berkeley’s radio station and been heard as far east as Goa and the Mumbai University. She lives with her partner and their two dogs in the East Bay. PeopleFish is Medella’s first novel, and she is currently working on a new book.

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Tour Schedule

1/23 – On Top Down Under – http://ontopdownunderbookreviews.com/

1/23 – Scatteredt Thoughts And Rogue Words – https://scatteredthoughtsandroguewords.com/

1/24 – Molly Lolly; Reader, Reviewer, Lover of Words – https://mollylollyauthor.wordpress.com

1/24 – Stories That Make You Smile – https://authoraddisonalbright.com

1/25 – Erotica For All  http://eroticaforall.co.uk

1/25 – Divine Magazine – http://divinemagazine.biz

1/26 – MM Good Book Reviews – https://mmgoodbookreviews.wordpress.com/

1/26 – Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents – http://fangirlmomentsandmytwocents.blogspot.com

1/26 – Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews – http://wickedfaeriesreviews.blogspot.com

1/26 – Boy Meets Boy Reviews – boymeetsboyreviews.blogspot.com

1/27 – Happily Ever Chapter – https://www.facebook.com/happilyeverchapter

1/27 – Sharing Links and Wisdom – http://sharinglinksandwisdom.blogspot.com

1/27 – Love Bytes – www.lovebytesreviews.com

Giveaway

One lucky winner will receive an ebook of their choice from NineStar Press
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Book Blitz for The Wolves of Daos 5 by Rebecca James (Excerpt and Giveaway)

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Title: The Wolves of Daos 5

Series: Wolves of Daos 5 1

Author: Rebecca James

Publisher: Rebecca James

Cover Artist: Brandyjo Newton

Release Date: September 24, 2016

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 195

Genre: Romance, Science Fiction, mpreg, shifter, paranormal,

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Synopsis

Michael has wrestled with anxiety his entire life, and finding out he’s half-werewolf doesn’t help matters. When bond-mate, Quinn, takes Michael to the werewolf colony, Michael finds more surprises in store for him, and some may be more than he can handle.

Excerpt

Looking over his shoulder as they walked, Michael saw that the milling crowd that had been gathering at the palace gates now filed in behind them, as though they’d been waiting for Quinn and Michael’s arrival in order to be admitted. Looking ahead, a vast courtyard lay before them with pruned hedges and extensive gardens that had been cut back in preparation for the coming winter. Michael’s heart picked up when he spotted what appeared to be several huge lizards lounging in the inner courtyard near the front of the palace where he and Quinn were not, thankfully, headed.
“Komodo dragons?” Michael asked.
“What? Oh, yes. We brought them here from Indonesia. Very effective deterrents to trespassers.”
“I’ll bet.” Michael stared at the frightening creatures.
“This way,” Quinn said, setting off toward the side, passing through an archway and along an ivy-covered wall where two guards led three chained and naked men headed for a door leading away from the main part of the stone structure. Quinn propelled Michael toward a larger iron door at the far end of the narrow lane. Michael couldn’t help but stare at the men. Were they slaves? They certainly appeared to be, with their dirty appearance and hands and feet manacled and the long chain connecting them one to the other.
“Prisoners,” Quinn said, as though answering Michael’s unasked question. Sometimes he really did seem to read Michael’s mind. “Escor. Scum.”
The corridor leading to the door was narrow and crowded. Quinn wrapped his arm around Michael’s waist and maneuvered them through, while Michael continued to stare at the prisoners. He’d never seen anyone like them; completely hairless, lacking even eyebrows and lashes, with long, slim feet and oddly-shaped heads. Two large werewolves wearing red tangas and brandishing curved sticks urged the prisoners along. As Quinn and Michael passed the line of men, one looked directly at Michael, his silver eyes with dark, vertical pupils reminding Michael of a snake. Michael thought they must be contact lenses—he’d seen some that gave a similar effect. As Michael returned the gaze, quick as lightning, the man’s tongue darted out, thin and forked, touching Michael on the arm at the same time that Atlas yelled and pulled Michael backward until his shoulder hit the opposite wall. Quinn threw himself at the prisoner, his hands around the man’s thick throat.

Purchase

Rebecca James | Amazon | Smashwords | ARe

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Meet the Author

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Rebecca James writes m/m and m/m/m romance in the contemporary, paranormal, and sci-fi genres. Writing has been her passion since childhood, but it wasn’t until recently that she got up the courage to publish. She lives in the southern United States with her husband and three children.

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Giveaway

One lucky winner will get an ebook of their choice from Rebecca’s backlist

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Dive Back into the Magical AURA Fantasy Series with Kellen’s Awakening (AURA #3) by Bellora Quinn and Angel Martinez

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Kellen’s Awakening (AURA #3) by Bellora Quinn and Angel Martinez
Release Date: May 3, 2016

Goodreads Link
Publisher: Pride Publishing
Cover Artist: Emmy Ellis

Blurb

The staff at AURA has had a busy summer. Between chronic understaffing, dealing with warring goblin factions and an unusual number of hazardous Events, everyone is overworked. Sinistrus the incubus, newly hired as an AURA medic, actually enjoys his busy new life of responsible employee and faithful lover to his gorgeous police sergeant, Ness the centaur. Life would be perfect, except for a niggling suspicion about a colleague. Everyone else seems to disagree, but Sin’s certain something’s not right with that pixie.

Kellen, a pixie crossover, loves his job working in AURA medical, even if he is something of an outsider. His job and the friends he manages to make are happy spots in an otherwise dark and secretive life. As the rest of AURA tries to discover the root of the inexplicable rise in violence and large scale Events, Kellen fights to preserve his own life and what dignity he has left.

These two unlikely heroes must put their differences aside and navigate tragedy and ever-escalating disaster together in order to stop the sinister forces that hold Kellen in thrall.

 

Pages or Words: 69,000 words
Series should be read in order
Categories: Alternate Universe, Contemporary, Gay Fiction, Paranormal, Romance, Urban Fantasy

 Special Excerpt

Tenzin glanced up at the clock and realized the time had gotten away from him. He kissed Kai’s cheek and gathered up their lunch things. “I’m sorry, love. I have an interview and must be off. New medic, I’m hoping.”

Kai made shooing motions with both hands. “Go, go. I hope this one works out better than the last three.”

The last three had been human, one hopelessly underqualified, one perhaps not entirely comfortable being interviewed by a yeti and the third hiding pernicious bigotry behind a bright smile. The one today was reported to be a pixie, and Tenzin wasn’t disappointed when he found the slender, fidgeting slip of an applicant waiting in the elevator lobby.

Hello, there.” Tenzin extended a hand. “I’m Tenzin, the medical department supervisor. You must be Kellen?”

Yes. I am. Nice to meet you.” He shook his hand, brief but firm.

Come into the department. We’ll talk in one of the empty patient rooms.” Tenzin led the way, pleased that the pixie hadn’t flinched at his appearance. When they had settled, Tenzin on the little plastic chair in the room, Kellen on the rolling stool, he leafed through the interview file and began. “Why don’t you start by telling me about your prior experience.”

I don’t have a lot of experience, yet.” Kellen answered. “The placement counselor asked about my skills when I crossed over and thought I might do best working in some way for AURA. I couldn’t pass the test for enforcement, and I didn’t think research was a good fit, so I asked to take the classes for medical.”

Tenzin tried hard not to frown. “I see. You do seem to have passed the classes with good academic scores. What did you do in your past life? Before you crossed over?”

Well, I would have probably become a soldier eventually. Most of us do. I wasn’t old enough to join the ranks though. I was good at organizing things.”

Even without his wings out Kellen seemed to droop a bit, perhaps realizing that he wasn’t exactly painting a stellar picture of his skill set. While Tenzin didn’t disbelieve the revelation about pixie soldiers as someone else might have, he had experience with fierce flower fairies after all, he had the feeling something was off here.

Organization is important in a medical department,” Tenzin said gently. “What sorts of things did you organize?”

Nectar and honey, mostly.”

Ah, food supplies. For your family?”

For the colony. See, the collection squads were always going to the closest hives and groves first, and by the time anyone got to the outer reaches the fruit would be over ripe, or some of the neighboring colonies had poached the farthest hives. So I set up a rotation, so they went out to collect more evenly. Our stores increased almost thirty percent.”

Tenzin nodded. “That’s very resourceful.”

He didn’t need another trainee, he needed someone who could step into the breach, as it were. But Kellen seemed like such a sincere, intelligent individual, Tenzin didn’t want him to slip through the cracks. He was trying desperately to think of a solution when the air above his head erupted in chittering from whirling colorful beings. His troop of flower fairies zipped around his head, chattering with such agitation he couldn’t understand them. A blur of pink hovered in front of his nose, Brianna pointing sternly at the flower fairies by his right shoulder.

Oh, dear. How did this happen?” Briac and Tara cradled sapphire-blue Timon between them, his wing bent at an impossible angle. “It’s alright, it’s alright little ones. We’ll set it. I think perhaps some surgical tape will hold it in place.”

Kellen made a small sound and Tenzin looked over at him to see him shaking his head. “Not tape. The wing membrane needs to breathe, and the adhesive might tear the wing when it’s removed. A gauze wrap would be best.”

The words were soft, almost apologetic, as if Kellen were afraid to contradict him. Brianna scolded, telling Tenzin she would’ve told him the same thing, but he held up a finger to halt her.

Very sensible. Would you like to do it, Kellen? Supplies are in the cabinet there.”

Rather than answer Kellen simply set to work. With a roll of gauze and some cotton swabs he used forceps and scissors to fashion a tiny flexible cast and sling to hold the wing immobile and support it from below. Timon sat still for him on the table while the rest of the troop alternately hovered or landed on Kellen’s head and shoulders while he worked. He hummed soothingly under his breath when he set the wing in place, while his fingers worked oh-so-delicately on the fragile wing.

Tenzin blinked in surprise. Not that he’d spent much time with pixies, but he didn’t expect the healing song like the ones the elf healers used. He glanced at Brianna who gave him a nod and glowed in approval. The youngster didn’t have much field experience, but, goddess knew he needed someone with knowledge of wing membranes. Timon flexed his uninjured wing and let out a little chirping sigh, obviously relieved when Kellen had finished.

Well then.” Tenzin picked Timon up and let him nestle into his shoulder fur. “I only have one question left. Do you have issues working with any race or species?”

No. We’re all in this together now, aren’t we. I just want to be able to help people.”

There was a lie in there somewhere, or perhaps an omission, but Tenzin felt confident they could deal with whatever the obstacle was if it came up. “So when can you start?”

 

Buy the book:  Pride Publishing

 

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Meet the authors:

Angel Martinez

The unlikely black sheep of an ivory tower intellectual family, Angel Martinez has managed to make her way through life reasonably unscathed. Despite a wildly misspent youth, she snagged a degree in English Lit, married once and did it right the first time, (same husband for almost twenty-four years) gave birth to one amazing son, (now in college) and realized at some point that she could get paid for writing.

Published since 2006, Angel’s cynical heart cloaks a desperate romantic. You’ll find drama and humor given equal weight in her writing and don’t expect sad endings. Life is sad enough.

She currently lives in Delaware in a drinking town with a college problem and writes Science Fiction and Fantasy centered around gay heroes.

Bellora Quinn

Originally hailing from Detroit Michigan, Bellora now resides on the sunny Gulf Coast of Florida where a herd of Dachshunds keeps her entertained. She got her start in writing at the dawn of the internet when she discovered PbEMs (Play by email) and found a passion for collaborative writing and steamy hot erotica. Soap Opera like blogs soon followed and eventually full novels.

The majority of her stories are in the M/M genre with urban fantasy or paranormal settings and many with a strong BDSM flavour.

Where to find the authors:

Facebook:

Facebook Author Page:

Twitter:

  • @BelloraQ
  • @AngelMartinezrr

Pinterest:

 


Tour Dates & Stops:

3-May: Oh My Shelves, The Novel Approach

4-May: Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews, Molly Lolly, My Fiction Nook

5-May: Love Bytes, Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words, A.M. Leibowitz

6-May: Havan Fellows. MM Good Book Reviews, BFD Book Blog

9-May: Prism Book Alliance, Bayou Book Junkie, Nephy Hart

Final

Giveaway

Enter to win a Rafflecopter Prize: $10 Pride Publishing gift card.  Must be 18 years of age or older to enter.
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L.G. Fabbo-Gonnella’s Vampire P.I. is Back in The Case of the Thwarted Lovers (excerpt and giveaway)

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

Synopsis

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

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

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

Excerpt

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

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

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

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

 

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Buy Links

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

Giveaway

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

About the author

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

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

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

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