Please welcome A. Morell!

James is at the end of a long crusade for vengeance against the vampire clan that destroyed everything he held dear. He has Ren, the final and most dangerous of them all, cornered at last in London. But victory remains just out of reach when Ren sets a feral vampire on James and makes his escape. With no other leads, James is forced to take in the feral until he can use its connection to its sire to track down Ren. But in caring for the vampire, James sees they might not all be the monsters he thought them to be. Faced with an ugly truth, his quest for revenge becomes a war for retribution, and the discovery of what it truly means to be human.

Puncture Wounds
by A. Morell

AVAILABLE NOW!

Happy release day! It’s been a fun ride getting the story to this point, and at long last it’s available to all. Join James on his journey, and help him see it through to the bitter end. Congrats to all my winners, enjoy your free copies! Read on for an excerpt and links to some exclusive sneak peeks into the story:

James fumbled to regain control, and it took a second to realize that it wasn’t teeth he felt now—it was a soft and damp tongue. The almost constant rumbling from deep in the creature’s chest had morphed at some point, from warning growls to what sounded suspiciously like a purr. James felt his skin crawl and tore himself away, stumbling a bit when he stood too fast.

He was reeling. Everything from the past twenty-four hours suddenly came crashing down around him at once. In so short a time, he’d had the last of his sworn enemies in the palm of his hand, let him escape, and brought a feral monster into his own house. And he’d fed it.

James fumbled his way into the kitchen, eying the sink as he felt his stomach threaten to heave. He pushed himself to the fridge, grabbing a nutrition drink and forcing its contents down his throat along with the bile. He reminded himself that he needed it to help his blood recover, and this was all according to plan—take in the feral and get it sane enough to track the one who’d made it.

He braced himself against the counter with both arms, repeating the plan in his head until the moment passed.

He was too busy to notice at first, but something was wrong—nothing hurt. He looked back down at his arm.

It had completely healed.

More on Puncture Wounds:

Start the first chapter | Behind-the-scenes glimpse | Have a taste | A look at the characters

About A. Morell:
A. Morell spent ten years writing silly things for herself, going through work, school, and a failed career path in the culinary arts before deciding it was time to submit to a publisher. She still writes silly things for herself, but now some of them get pretty-looking covers. She has never looked back.

Hailing from the San Francisco Bay Area, she greatly enjoys food, baseball, shopping, tattoos, karaoke, and old bookstores. She is averse to spiders, zombies, over-used words, tardiness, inclement weather, and the misquotation of movie lines and lyrics. Her dream is to retire to Hawaii immediately. She has one cat.

For more A. Morell, stop by the blog or twitter, or contact directly at sans.morale@gmail.com.

Please welcome Andrew Q. Gordon!

Facebook-banner-AClosedDoor

A Closed Door, by Andrew Q. Gordon

Book Blurb:

Outted at thirteen, Orin Merritt left home after high school hoping to escape the hell his life had become. Ten years later when a tornado destroys his childhood home and kills his parents, Orin finds himself in an entirely new nightmare. One he can’t run away from.

Blaming himself for failing the two people who always loved and supported him, he returns home and confronts his past in the person of his one-time best friend, Thomas Kennett.  Thomas not only rejected him when Orin came out, he led the group that tormented Orin into leaving.

As he struggles to deal with his grief, Orin also labors to fulfill the pledge he made to his parents before their death.  In the process, Orin learns that sometimes when you go away to find yourself, you leave the answers you’re looking for behind.

Cover Artist: Lily Velden and Jay Aheer

Publisher: Wayward Ink Publishing.

 

Buy Links:

Wayward Ink Publishing.

Amazon US:

Amazon Australia:

Amazon UK:

Amazon DE:

Amazon Canada:
A Closed Door Cover
Book Excerpt:

“Orin, I won’t.” Thomas stood a bit straighter and his eyes lost the sad, pleading shine. “I won’t hurt you again.”

“You can’t promise that. Things happen.” Orin watched as his words dragged Thomas back from the brink of hope.

“If you truly believe that, then there’s nothing I can do. You have to believe there’s a chance or else I can’t prove it.”

“That’s not what I’m telling you.” He locked his gaze on Thomas’s. “If I say yes, I’ll have to take down the walls I surrounded my heart with to keep it safe. Once it’s gone, I won’t be able bring it back if I get hurt. Not now.

“So what I’m saying is, think about what you’re asking me to risk. If you really love me, ask yourself if are you willing to risk what will happen to me if you can’t keep your promise.”

He knew how unfair he’d been, but self-preservation had been a skill he’d honed over the past fifteen years. He needed Thomas to know just how serious the repercussion could be for his actions.

“Orin, I . . . I . . . how . . .?” Their faces were inches apart, and Thomas moved in for another kiss.

This felt different than the first—less urgent, but no less intense. Orin trembled at the leap he was about to take. When they stepped back, Thomas rubbed his thumb across Orin’s cheek.

“I do love you, Orin. More than I can say. So much, that I’m not willing to risk what will happen if I fail you again. I don’t have that right.”

Thomas’s lips quivered and the tears welled at the bottom of his eyes. He kissed Orin’s forehead gently.

“Good-bye, Orin. Please be happy.” Without looking back, Thomas walked to the front door, opened it, and walked away.

Author Bio:

Andrew Q. Gordon wrote his first story back when yellow legal pads, ball point pens were common and a Smith Corona correctable typewriter was considered high tech. Adapting with technology, he now takes his MacBook somewhere quiet when he wants to write.

He currently lives in the Washington, D.C. area with his partner of eighteen years, their young daughter and dog. In addition to dodging some very self-important D.C. ‘insiders’, Andrew uses his commute to catch up on his reading. When not working or writing, he enjoys soccer, high fantasy, baseball and seeing how much coffee he can drink in a day.

Author Contacts:

Website: www.andrewqgordon.com,

Facebook: www.facebook.com/andrewqugordon,

Twitter: @andrewqgordon,

Email: andrewqgordon@gmail.com

Other Books:

The Last Grand Master: (Champion of the Gods – Book 1);

Purpose:

(Un)Masked:

Ashes of Life:

 

 

Please welcome Brynn Stein!

Blog Tour for Through the Years

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Thanks Kim, for hosting me today. This is the sixth stop on blog tour for Through the Years.

I wanted to talk a little about juggling so many characters. This book contains by far the most characters that I’ve ever worked with at one time. Since it encompasses fifty years, there are friends of the two main characters, spouses of those friends, as well as Edward’s wife. Kids and grandkids, in-laws.

It was actually kind of hard to keep track of when I was writing it. I literally had to make a family tree to keep everyone straight, not to mention to try to figure out how old everyone was at any given time.

Since it was so much work for me to keep straight, I was really afraid that it would be hard for my readers too. I had numerous friends and family read over it before I submitted it, to make sure that everything was easier to keep track of as a reader than it had been as a writer.

I was told it was. And my absolutely wonderful editors at Dreamspinner didn’t have any problems, so I guess I managed it better than I was afraid I was going to be able to.

It was still a really different problem to have.

Always before, I’ve had a small cast of important characters with perhaps some minor characters thrown in. But in this story, just about everyone is important. We need to track Edward’s kids, of course, and the fact that he has a wife for a while is very important. But, because of the dynamic of Edward and Gene and three other friends from college, they all are intricately involved in each other’s lives, so all of their kids and spouses are really important too.

It was fun to write so many characters, even if I did worry about it for a while. I think it helps draw the reader in…make them feel like family. That’s what several people who have read it have said, anyway.

What about you writers? Have you had a book with what seems like a million important characters? How did you handle them all? Did you have to make some kind of chart or other visual aid to help when you were writing?

And readers, what do you think about books with a lot of characters? Love it? Hate it? Somewhere in between?

Comment below to be entered into the raffle.

 

Here’s how the raffle works:

 

I’ve listed the tour stops below and have given either the link to the blog in general or to my post specifically. Feel free to stop by as many as you want. For each stop that you comment on, you will receive one entry to the giveaway. I’ll check all the stops numerous times throughout the tour and will draw five winners on Thanksgiving Day, so even if you come in late to the tour, you can go back through the list and comment on past stops.

I’m giving away five prizes. 1) a signed paperback copy of Through the Years; 2 and 3) electronic copies of Through the Years, 4) your choice of either a signed paperback copy or an audiobook of Living Again (the audiobook won’t be available until December), and 5) an electronic copy of Haunted.

 

Blog Tour Stops for Through the Years

Blog Stop Date Blog Owner Blog Address
1 October 6 Anne Barwell http://annebarwell.wordpress.com
2 October 7 Grace Duncan http://www.grace-duncan.com/
3 October 8 Jessica Skye Davies http://jessicaskyedavies.blogspot.com
4 October 9 Shira Anthony www.shiraanthony.com
5 October 10 Emma Tett http://emmy-j.blogspot.co.uk
6 October 11 Kim Fieldings http://kfieldingwrites.com/
7 October 12 Bike Books Reviews bikebookreviews.blogspot.com
8 October 13 Tempest O’Riley http://tempesteoriley.com
9 October 14 Sean Michael http://seanmichaelwrites.blogspot.ca/
10 October 15 Allison Cassatta Allisoncassatta.blogspot.com
11 October 16 Jana Denardo http://jana-denardo.livejournal.com/
12 October 17 Louise Lyons http://louiselyonsauthor.wordpress.com
13 October 18 PD Singer http://pdsinger.com
14 October 20 Shae Connor http://shaeconnorwrites.com
15 October 21 Suki Fleet http://sukifleet.wordpress.com
16 October 27 Charlie Cochet http://purpleroseteahouse.charliecochet.com
17 October 28 Elizabeth Noble http://www.elizabeth-noble.com/my-blog
18 October 29 Tara Lain http://taralain.com
19 October 31 Sophie Bonaste http://sophiebonaste.blogspot.com
20 November 4 Kit Moss http://kitmossreviews.blogspot.com
21 November 10 Lane Hayes lanehayes.wordpress.com
22 November 13 Mike Rupured http://rupured.com

 

Thanks again Kim, for letting me stop by today.

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http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5539

 

Blurb for Through the Years

Edward and Gene were instantly drawn to each other when they met at college in Maryland. Fast friends, they developed a “closer than brothers” relationship. But then Edward began to feel more for Gene. In 1967, those kind of feelings would not be tolerated. Not even by Edward himself.

Gene always thought he was asexual. He had never been attracted to anyone… until he met Edward. He dreamed of Edward as more than a friend throughout college, but he knew Edward would not welcome that kind of attention. So Gene wasn’t surprised when Edward reacted badly to a drunken kiss just before Edward’s graduation. He was surprised when Edward moved to Florida and had little to do with him for years afterward.

When fate finally brings them back together, Edward is married and has a little girl. Gene gladly accepts the role of “Uncle Gene,” happy to have Edward in his life in any capacity. Together, they face all the trials and tribulations life throws at them, including the death of Edward’s wife, and as each grows and matures, their life views change. The relationship they’ve secretly wanted all along is closer than ever, and if Edward can break free from his homophobic upbringing and admit his feelings for Gene, there might still be a chance for them to share their lives in the way they both desire.

A Bittersweet Dreams title: It’s an unfortunate truth: love doesn’t always conquer all. Regardless of its strength, sometimes fate intervenes, tragedy strikes, or forces conspire against it. These stories of romance do not offer a traditional happy ending, but the strong and enduring love will still touch your heart and maybe move you to tears.

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Brynn Stein has always loved to write. Fan fiction, original fiction, whatever. While Brynn wrote in numerous genres – everything from mystery, to contemporary, to supernatural – she had always tended toward strong male characters. And then she discovered ‘slash’, male/male romance, and all those strong male characters were finally allowed to express their love for one another. It seems that there are always at least two characters clamoring to tell Brynn their story.

Brynn lives in Virginia with one of her two two-legged children, and two four-legged ones. Her supportive family encourages her writing and provides a sounding board for fledgling stories. When she isn’t writing, Brynn teaches children with special needs. In free time, when such a thing exists, she reads anything she can get her hands on, and haunts bookstores. She draws and paints, and enjoys the outdoors—especially if she can get to the beach—and is always thinking about her next story.

Please feel free to contact Brynn at any of the following:

https://twitter.com/BrynnStein http://brynnstein2.wordpress.com https://www.facebook.com/
or

brynnstein2@gmail.com

 

Please welcome Andrea Speed!

In honor of the relaunch of the Infected series, I thought I’d Google some random questions, and have characters from the series answer them. First up is Dylan Harlow, bartender/artist, and all around nice guy. He has the distinction of being one of the most normal people in the Infected universe. (Poor guy.)

 

  1. Where are you most likely to be at 8:00 on a Saturday night?

Dylan: At work

  1. What is the biggest change you have made in your life in the last year?

Dylan: I think it’s been learning to let go and accept some things that I’d rather not. But life isn’t ideal, and sometimes you have to accept situations and people as they are.

  1. What’s your middle name?

Dylan: Alejandro

  1. On a scale of 1-10 how honest are you?

Dylan: I’d say I’m a solid nine. I’m including lying to myself, and the occasional bar patron. I don’t like to do it, but sometimes it’s unavoidable.

1. What is something unusual you like to put on a sandwich?

Dylan: I guess fruit. I’ve been known to throw in grapes or mango, depending on the sandwich. Fruit goes better with savory things than most people know. Strawberry can work too, as long as they’re really fresh. And I’d recommend growing your own for best taste, as the ones they sell in grocery stores have almost no flavor at all, and strawberry plants are readily available and easy to grow in containers. But that’s probably way more than you wanted to know.

 

 

  1. If you could trade lives with somebody you know, who would it be?

 

Dylan: No one. I’m generally happy with my life, as weird and stressful as it can be.

 

 

  1. Do you want to be buried or cremated after you are dead?

 

Dylan: Ooh, morbid. But cremated, definitely. Bodies are just a shell. They aren’t us. Once I’m dead I don’t give a crap what happens to my body.

 

 

  1. Would you rather have a beautiful home in an ordinary suburb or an ordinary home in an extraordinary place?

 

Dylan: There’s no contest. An ordinary home in an extraordinary place. I mean, just imagine. On top of a waterfall? In space? On top of a mountain? In an underwater cavern? I don’t give a shit about having a split level with one and a half bath in those circumstances.

 

  1. What is your favorite condiment?

 

Dylan: Salsa. Is there anyone who wouldn’t pick salsa? Oh, strike that. Roan would probably pick mustard.

 

 

  1. What do you think is beyond the stars?

 

Dylan: Stars, planets, life, one assumes.

 

 

  1. Do you believe in love at first sight?

 

Dylan: I think it can happen. It’s never happened to me, though.

 

 

  1. What makes you jealous?

 

Dylan: Guys who get clearly obsessed with Roan. I’m really not a jealous person, but some guys get under my skin. I know Roan is the type of person who will always garner a lot of attention, and the fact that he has a type of blindness to his own magnetism isn’t helpful, but I’m not above the occasional pang of jealousy.

 

  1. If you were to write a novel what would it be about?

 

Dylan: The intersection of art and Buddhism. It’d be a total fucking bore. Even Roan would force himself to try and read it, and then lie and say he did, because he’d be unable to finish. It’d be terrible. I’m an artist, not a writer.

 

 

  1. What is your idea of heaven?

 

Dylan: A nice, quite place in the country with my husband. Far, far away from anyone who could bother us. Oh, and I’d have a private gallery where I could paint, of course.

 

 

  1. If you could have a drink with someone from history who would it be?

 

Dylan: Interesting. Right now I’d probably say John Stuart Mill, because I’ve been reading some of his writings lately, and his philosophies are fascinating. He was ahead of his time in many respects, and that must have been difficult.

 

 

  1. Do you say meaner things to your friends or your enemies?

 

Dylan: I really don’t like to be negative, and I don’t stay in contact with anyone I’d consider an enemy. But enemy is the answer to your question, because I can’t stand people who are negative towards their own friends. Save that creepy, bitchy behavior for reality shows.

 

 

  1. What three adjectives best describe you?

 

Dylan: Quiet, artistic, friendly. Or at least I hope I’m friendly.

 

 

  1. If you could have one superpower what would it be?

 

Dylan: That’s a tough one. I think I’d like the power to heal. Not just myself, but other people as well. Healing I could share.

 

 

  1. What is something most people do not know about you?

 

Dylan: I was really into archery as a teenager, and I actually tried out for the Olympics in college. Isn’t that weird? Even I can’t believe I ever did that.

 

 

 

  1. I’m really good at …

 

Dylan: Painting.

 

 

 

Blurb: Infected: Book One  In a world where a werecat virus has changed society, Roan McKichan, a born infected and ex-cop, works as a private detective trying to solve crimes involving other infecteds.  The murder of a former cop draws Roan into an odd case where an unidentifiable species of cat appears to be showing an unusual level of intelligence. He juggles that with trying to find a missing teenage boy, who, unbeknownst to his parents, was “cat” obsessed. And when someone is brutally murdering infecteds, Eli Winters, leader of the Church of the Divine Transformation, hires Roan to find the killer before he closes in on Eli.  Working the crimes will lead Roan through a maze of hate, personal grudges, and mortal danger. With help from his tiger-strain infected partner, Paris Lehane, he does his best to survive in a world that hates and fears their kind… and occasionally worships them.

 

 

http://www.amazon.com/Infected-Prey-Andrea-Speed-ebook/dp/B00NJRJZGG/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1412291499&sr=8-1&keywords=infected%3A+prey

 

http://www.dsppublications.com/

 

 

Please welcome Charlie Cochet!

Hello all! Welcome to the Rack & Ruin (THIRDS, Book 3) cover reveal & giveaway! I’m super excited to share with you the cover to for the latest THIRDS book by the fabulous L.C. Chase! There’s also a giveaway, and Rack & Ruin is now available for preorder!

When the walls come tumblin’ down….

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Blurb

New York City’s streets are more dangerous than ever with the leaderless Order of Adrasteia and the Ikelos Coalition, a newly immerged Therian group, at war. Innocent civilians are caught in the crossfire and although the THIRDS round up more and more members of the Order in the hopes of keeping the volatile group from reorganizing, the members of the Coalition continue to escape and wreak havoc in the name of vigilante justice.

Worse yet, someone inside the THIRDS has been feeding the Coalition information. It’s up to Destructive Delta to draw out the mole and put an end to the war before anyone else gets hurt. But to get the job done, the team will have to work through the aftereffects of the Therian Youth Center bombing. A skirmish with Coalition members leads Agent Dexter J. Daley to a shocking discovery and suddenly it becomes clear that the random violence isn’t so random. There’s more going on than Dex and Sloane originally believed, and their fiery partnership is put to the test. As the case takes an explosive turn, Dex and Sloane are in danger of losing more than their relationship.

Preorder links

Dreampisnner Press eBook | Dreamspinner Press Paperback

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Release Day
November 7th

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Excerpt

Dex had never been so eager to start his daily training session. Down in Sparta, he changed in the male locker room, swapping his uniform for his black Led Zeppelin T-shirt, loose jogging pants, and sneakers. He grabbed his boxing gloves from his locker and slammed it shut.

The bays were pretty busy at this time of day, but there was plenty of free boxing equipment in the boxing bays. He chose one of the emptier ones, and as he got ready, all he could think about was Sloane. The moment Dex had seen his face, he’d known. Sloane was going to run. I’m so stupid. He finished wrapping his hands and made straight for the punching bag.

After some quick stretches and warm ups, he started pummeling the red leather bag, hoping to release some of his frustration, but the more he punched the bag, the angrier he became. He’d told himself not to get so close. His head had known far longer than his heart what would happen, tried to warn him. But Dex hadn’t listened. He’d been a lovesick idiot, trailing after Sloane, getting on his knees, content to let Sloane bleed him. Maybe a part of Dex enjoyed it. Enjoyed being stripped, his vulnerability exposed. Why else would he continue to put himself through this? Why did he keep waiting? Because he’d promised Sloane he would. And what had Sloane promised in return? Dex remembered the words as if they’d been said yesterday. I can’t make any promises. Sloane had made it clear. Dex had no one to blame for his heartache but himself.

“Well isn’t that cute.”

Dex froze. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Someone up there was conspiring against him. Was this a test to see how much he could take before he lost his shit? Any other day, Dex would have walked away. But not today. He turned and faced Ash who was dressed similarly in a T-shirt and loose jogging pants. Letty was beside him looking worried.

“Come on. You and me,” Dex said through his teeth.

Ash let out a laugh. “Are you fucking kidding?”

“Does it look like I’m kidding?”

“Sloane wouldn’t be happy about that.”

“Well Sloane’s not fucking here, is he?” Dex snapped. He expected a smart-ass remark, but instead Ash seemed to be thinking it over so he pushed on. “You’ve wanted this since I joined. Now’s your chance. No one here’s going to stop you. You want to beat the shit out of me, now’s your fucking chance.”

“Okay.”

Dex nodded and swiped his boxing gloves off the side of the mat. He held them out to Letty. “Help me out here.”

Letty took one glove from him and helped secure the strap before taking the next one. “Dex, are you sure you want to do this? You know he won’t hold back.”

“I’m counting on it.”

Letty cursed under her breath, saying something in Spanish Dex didn’t understand. He tapped his hip where his pocket was, and Letty reached in. She pulled out the small box containing his mouth guard and opened it, looking as if she was going to try again to convince him not to do this, but instead, she held the mouth guard up to him. He leaned over and closed his mouth around the rubbery piece. He could tell she wasn’t happy, but he needed this.

He hopped on his toes, rolled his shoulders, and waited while Letty helped Ash with his gloves and mouth guard. As soon as Ash was ready, they both stepped onto one of the larger empty blue mats. Looking at Ash, all the anger came flooding back, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about Sloane.

You really thought he wouldn’t run? He’ll always run. From you.

“Come on,” Dex said around his mouthpiece.

Ash shook his head, but there was no way Dex was letting him back out now.

Come on!”

Ash gave him exactly what he asked for. The first punch landed across Dex’s jaw and sent him reeling. He fell hard against the mat, his face in a world of pain and stars in his eyes. How the hell Dex hadn’t been knocked out by that one hit was beyond him. Fuck. That hurt. Okay, maybe this wasn’t your brightest idea.

“That all you got, Daley? One hit? That’s pretty fucking pathetic.”

Bastard. Dex pushed himself to his feet and shook himself off. Would Sloane come back this time? He had to. They worked together. What if that’s all he came back for? You fucked up. The first guy you could see yourself spending your life with, and you fuck it up within months. A new record. Ash grinned at him, and Dex lost it.

He came at Ash with everything he had, mindful of Ash’s fierce hooks. He maneuvered around him, ducking under hooks and jumping out of the way when Ash swiped at him. Ash threw both arms out to grab him, and Dex dropped down to the mat and rolled. He popped back up and took a swing, catching Ash on his shoulder. Then Dex remembered what Ash’s proficiency was. Close Quarter Combat. The guy had been toying with him. Letting him land blows, waiting for Dex to realize the mistake he’d made.

About the Author

CCochet100Charlie Cochet is an author by day and artist by night. Always quick to succumb to the whispers of her wayward muse, no star is out of reach when following her passion. From Historical to Fantasy, Contemporary to Science Fiction, there’s bound to be plenty of mischief for her heroes to find themselves in, and plenty of romance, too!

Currently residing in South Florida, Charlie looks forward to migrating to a land where the weather includes seasons other than hot, hotter, and boy, it’s hot! When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found reading, drawing, or watching movies. She runs on coffee, thrives on music, and loves to hear from readers.

Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | THIRDS HQ | Tumblr | Instagram | Pinterest
Email: charlie@charliecochet.com

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Please welcome Nikka Michaels!

rawIn the Raw

By Eileen Griffin and Nikka Michaels

Genre: M/M, Foodie Romance

Length: 84,000 Words

Series: In the Kitchen

Release Date: October 6, 2014

Publisher: Carina Press

ISBN: 9781426899119

Ebook ASIN: B00KV5ZHD4

 

Goodreads page: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22599510-in-the-raw

 

BLURB:

 

If you can’t take the heat…

 

James Lassiter has had a crush on fellow culinary student Ethan Martin for three years, but has never had the guts to make a move. Putting himself out there is hard, especially when under the thumb–and wallet–of his overbearing parents. Now that bad boy chef Ethan–who is always vying with Jamie for best in class–is struggling with the pastry course, Jamie suddenly has a reason to reach out.

 

Ethan doesn’t mean to be an ass–okay, so mostly he does–but even though he’s secretly hot for Jamie, he sure as hell doesn’t want help with pastry. Ever since his dad walked out, Ethan has been the one to hold things together and he’s done fine on his own. Except that he can’t get his cake to rise.

 

Jamie could be the answer to what Ethan’s been missing his whole life–someone to depend on. But with the two competing for the same scholarship, things suddenly get too hot to handle. And if Jamie finds the strength to go for what he wants, he isn’t about to settle for what he needs.

 

 

EXCERPT:

I opened the door, shivering when a gust of wind swept through. I pulled my jacket tight around my body, sighing when I saw no cabs waiting at the curb. “Shit.” I could either call information or wait a few minutes for another to drive by. I leaned against the brick wall of the building to wait when I heard the bar’s door squeak open and shut again.

“You could have waited for me, you know?” Ethan’s annoyed voice as he approached had me wondering what I’d done now.

“No worries.” I shrugged, tired from the long day and the confusing mix of emotions hanging out with him seemed to bring. “I didn’t want to rush you because I was ready to leave.”

He stepped closer, his shoulders hunched as he reluctantly admitted, “I wanted to hang out with you. Not Summer or the guys. Just you.”

I stared at him. “What do you want from me, Ethan? Half the time I don’t know whether you hate me or want to be friends. Then you do something like defend me to my father, who incidentally thinks you’re the antichrist. Tell me what we’re doing here.”

Instead of launching into the verbal tirade I expected, a determined look crossed his face and he murmured, “Fuck it.”

He stepped closer and I tensed. As unpredictable as Ethan was, I wasn’t sure what he’d do. I let it out a surprised gasp when his mouth met mine. There was nothing gentle about it. Months of tension, fighting, flirting all igniting when he touched me. Not a romantic kiss by any means…it was bruising, rough, passionate, intense, all the same things I’d come to equate with Ethan Martin. My fingers curled in the fabric of his sweatshirt, tugging him closer as my eyes slammed shut.

Braced between the solidness of his body and the cold wall behind me, I felt my entire body heat. Ethan’s ravenous lips and desperate tongue claimed my mouth, tasting of beer and mint. He slid one hand up to cup the back of my neck, holding me captive as he braced himself against the wall. I kissed him back fiercely, our teeth knocking together with the force of it.

Sounds I didn’t even know I was capable of making left my mouth and I didn’t care we were in public where anyone could see us. I nipped his lip, sighing with pleasure when he moaned into my mouth. He might be an infuriatingly stubborn asshole at times but one thing was for certain: Ethan Martin could kiss. He broke away, breathing hard as he leaned his forehead against mine.

“Wow.” I fought for breath, a smile tugging at my lips. “For once we’re actually on the same page.” As soon as the words left my mouth, he pulled back. His expression changed from needy to terrified as he released me, his hands clenched into fists.

“Ethan?”

“I’m sorry.” He backed away, staring at my face like I’d punched him. “I’m really fucking sorry, Lassiter.”

I swallowed hard and took a deep breath, raising my hands as if I was soothing a spooked animal.

“Ethan?”

He yanked up his sweatshirt hood and took off, leaving me to stare after him in silence. What the hell had happened?

 

Text Copyright © 2014 by Nikka Michaels and Eileen Griffin

Cover Art Copyright © 2014 by Harlequin Enterprises Limited

Permission to reproduce text granted by Harlequin Books

S.A. Cover art used by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises Limited.

All rights reserved.

® and ™ are trademarks owned by Harlequin Enterprises Limited or its affiliated companies, used under license.

 

 

 

BUY/PRE-ORDER LINKS:

 

 

Carina Press: http://ebooks.carinapress.com/4138180C-E926-4FC6-841D-5E908E3F9B25/10/134/en/ContentDetails.htm?ID=8C44110F-0A10-44DE-AF86-8E151D8E55CE

 

Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/Raw-Nikka-Michaels-ebook/dp/B00KV5ZHD4

 

Amazon Universal Link: http://authl.it/B00KV5ZHD4

 

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/in-the-raw-nikka-michaels/1119740514?ean=9781426899119

 

Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/in-the-raw-2

 

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/in-the-raw/id903769451?mt=11&uo=4″ target=”itunes_store”>In the Raw – Nikka Michaels & Eileen Griffin

 

Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Nikka_Michaels_In_the_Raw?id=4LjSAwAAQBAJ

 

 

EILEEN GRIFFIN BIO:

 

Eileen Griffin lives in the southwest, but loves to travel and has spent many summers crossing Europe with nothing but a backpack on her back. She enjoys TexMex, lives for good wine, and has a certain penchant for purple unicorns. She loves reading all genres of books, but her current obsession is writing M/M romance. Her past published works include: Chasing Matt, a M/M novella co-authored with Nikka Michaels, Dinner For Two, a M/F romance novella, “Claiming Ayden”, a M/M shifter romance that is part of Evenight’s Alpha’s Claim Anthology: M/M Edition, and “Lost and Found”, a short story written for the M/M Romance Group’s Don’t Read in the Closet: Love’s Landscapes Event. Eileen is currently working on a new M/M series set in a Bed and Breakfast with Nikka Michaels, as well as several other projects both individual and co-authored.

 

 

NIKKA MICHAELS BIO:

 

Nikka Michaels lives in the rainy Pacific Northwest where she spends her time cooking, laughing and crafting romantic tales to satisfy her craving for HEAs with heat. A voracious reader, novice knitter and music lover she’s been known to multitask without breaking a sweat. She loves to read and write M/M romance but believes everyone deserves a love story. She currently has several releases out including, Chasing Matt, a M/M novella co-authored with Eileen Griffin, Christmas with Caden, a M/F romance novella from Cobblestone Press, “Waking up Wolf”, a M/M shifter romance in Evernight Publishing’s Alpha’s Claim: Manlove Edition anthology, and the MM series which includes, Mile High Service, Room Service and Lip Service from Cobblestone Press’ Blue line. She also has a short story, “His Assistant” in Evernight Publishing’s best selling Executive Assistant: Manlove Edition anthology.

EILEEN GRIFFIN SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS:

Website and Blog: http://eileengriffin.wordpress.com/

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/eileengriffin77

Facebook Profile: http://www.facebook.com/eileen.griffin

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/eileengriffinauthor

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/EileenGriffin

Evernight Publishing: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/eileen-griffin/

Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/Eileen-Griffin/e/B00EOA3Z9A

All Romance eBooks: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html?searchBy=author&qString=Eileen+Griffin

 

 

NIKKA MICHAELS SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS:

Website: http://www.nikkamichaels.com

Blog: http://nikkamichaels.com/blog/

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/nikkamichaels

Facebook Profile: http://www.facebook.com/Nikka.Michaels

Facebook Author Page: http://www.facebook.com/nikkamichaelsauthor

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7231273.Nikka_Michaels

Cobblestone Press: http://cobblestone-press.com/catalog/author/nikkamichaels.htm

Evernight Publishing: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/nikka-michaels/

Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/author/nikkamichaels

All Romance eBooks: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html?searchBy=author&qString=Nikka+Michaels

 

 

 

Please welcome Suki Fleet!

Skeleton_postcard_front_DSP

My writing process… …is very disorganized–made up of scraps of paper, receipts that were at hand, notes on my phone and scribble down words. Titles often come to me long before stories do—though I suspect my subconscious is working away scribbling down on its own scraps of whatever happens to be lying around in my brain, because it always amazes me how everything comes together (when that happens it’s one of the best things about writing for me). Skeleton is the most complete story that I’ve been inspired to write. And by that I mean I didn’t really struggle with the plot or the characters. I didn’t stop in the middle thinking where do I go from here! like I normally do. I just wrote. Jan’s character was clear to me from the start—tall, Dutch, imposing, but sweet and caring beneath. He was inspired by the Dutch people we’ve met at the campsite we stay at on in the South of France Before I started writing it, I remember thinking I wanted to write a really self-contained short story that left a reader with feeling of completeness. And I hope I’ve accomplished that. I’ve packed a lot of story in there. A little mystery, a little sweetness, a little twist. It was a fun story to write. I finished this story in a month (including edits) and that is fast for me. I think I usually average 15-20K a month now, but that is something I’ve had to build up to.

Skeleton Blurb and Author Bio Blurb

Jan has given up on love, at least the romantic kind. He loves his five-year-old son Henry more than anything.  But when Henry starts school, Jan is introduced to Matthew, a very sweet but shy young man who helps out in Henry’s class. Although he tries desperately to ignore his attraction, Jan finds himself falling for Matthew—he’s everything Jan needs.  But amid creepy silent phone calls and possible break-ins, things start to fall slowly apart for Jan. Matthew wants to trust Jan, but the skeleton Jan has been trying to keep buried in his closet and the guilt he feels threatens to destroy everything good in his life.  

Author Bio

Suki Fleet currently lives in the heart of England. Her childhood was quite unconventional and she spent some time living on a boat and travelling at sea with her family. Since she was very small she has always dreamed of writing for a living, but though she has written original fiction online for years and encouraged many new writers to keep going and follow their author dreams, it is only recently she got the courage to make her own dream a reality and actually send something off to a publisher.   By day she runs her own business selling fabric (her second love) and juggling family commitments, by night she weaves the stories that the characters in her head dictate. These stories often start with pain or longing but always end with love.

Skeleton Buy Links

Dreamspinner Press

Amazon.com

All Romance ebooks

Please welcome Taylin Clavelli

FB Cover

Writing M/M fiction as a female author

As a female writing all male characters, I’ve been asked the question why, several times.

On a personal note, I have been married for 24 years, and for the majority of that time I have worked in a male dominated environment. I am also a practicing martial artist, which again, is a male dominated sport. So I’m familiar with the way men speak, act and think. When it comes to writing, regardless of gender, emotions are emotions. If I get injured, I experience the same pain as a man. At the other end of the scale, when I am happy, the same elation runs through my body.

The ability to think of an adventure and transfer it to the page—well, that all depends on the artistic nature of the author, and gender doesn’t enter into the equation. On that occasion, my style would differ from another woman’s as much as it would a man’s. As far as the intimate sexual details are concerned, I’m old enough to know the euphoria accompanied with the act as well as a few other details which I won’t go into. This leaves the differences between m/m loving as opposed to f/f or m/f loving. Well, apart from the fact that I truly enjoy my research, I have some friends who are happy to be frank, open, and honest with me, plus I am thankful for my imagination!!!

So, in the end, I guess it comes down to the fact that I simply enjoy writing stories where the main characters are in an all-male relationship. I don’t get jealous about wanting to be the woman in the stories, and I can concentrate on the adventure itself. And I get double the fun ‘playing’ with two cocks instead of one.

The community of LGBT writers, too, is so supportive; it’s a privilege to know them. They also have one hell of a sense of humor, and when we get together, I split my sides laughing. In their company is a good place to be.

I only have one complaint about writing m/m, and I’m sure authors of f/f literature encounter the same. When some people, thankfully not all, discover I write m/m they automatically think it’s porn on a page. This truly irks me. I changed many of my reading habits over to m/m because I found the stories so much more interesting. Sexual interaction in an m/m adventure is there for exactly the same reason as m/f fiction – it’s there to enhance the story not make it. Yet no one bats an eye when the coupling characters are m/f. Some of my readers have been brought to tears (in a good way) at my stories, and not all of them have explicit sexual content.

Picture1Synopsis

Born in the wrong time…

In 1875 Dakota, Sheriff Jamie Carter has to hide his interest in men, even from his gutsy twin sister, Anna. On a good day, the truth can mean a bullet between the eyes, and on a bad, one in the back.

A man on a mission…

Jamie leaves Anna in charge of Blackrock and he hits the bounty hunting trail, along with his faithful equine companion, Houston. Five territories, scores of ‘Wanted’ posters, and many bullets later, his path unexpectedly converges with that of enigmatic loner, Kit Brooks.

Two men with one soul…

Will the smoldering fire between them rage into an inferno and break down protective barriers, allowing them to find love? Or will it separate and kill them?

Beneath Dakota skies…

Jamie and Kit’s story is a sweeping saga of cowboys, Indians, persistent broads, and vengeful villains, where the cowboys aren’t always the good guys, and love can’t be taken for granted.

Book trailer:

http://youtu.be/63nJgZNMJGg

Buy the book:

WIP: http://www.waywardinkpublishing.com/product/dakota-skies/

Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00NHPMJ7C/

Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00NHPMJ7C/

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dakota-skies-taylin-clavelli/1120358729?ean=9781925222036

About the author:

Taylin Clavelli lives in the United Kingdom, about 15 miles south of Birmingham, and a short journey from the world famous Cadbury’s Chocolate factory. She’s married with children and loves her family with all her heart.

Her love of books has been a long standing affair, with Taylin liking nothing better than to lose herself in an imaginary world.

Until she met Lily Velden, she never considered trying her hand at writing. However, after talking ideas, Lily encouraged her to put pen to paper—or rather, fingers to keyboard. Since, with a few virtual kicks in the right place, she hasn’t stopped. Her confidence eventually led to her writing an original work for submission.

Her first published work was Boys, Toys, and Carpet Fitters, developed for the Dreamspinner Press Anthology – Don’t Try This At Home.

Now she absolutely adores immersing herself into the characters she creates, and transferring the pictures in her brain to paper, finding it liberating, therapeutic, and wonderful.

Outside of writing, her interests include; martial arts (she’s a 2nd Degree Black Belt in Taekwon-do), horse-riding, all of which facilitates her love of a wide variety of movies. Her action heroes include Jet Li and Tony Jaa—finding the dedication these men have for their art combined with their skill both amazing and a privilege to watch. If pressed, she’ll admit to thinking that the screen entrance of Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow in the Pirates of the Caribbean – Curse of the Black Pearl, and Shadowfax in LOTR, to be the greatest screen entrances ever. Her all-time favorite movies are Star Wars and Lord of the Rings.

The simple things in life that make her day, putting a smile on her face are:

Laughter – especially that of her children.

The smell of lasagna cooking – it makes her mouth salivate.

The dawn chorus – no symphony ever written can beat the waking greetings of the birds.

Social links:

Website: http://www.taylinclavelli.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100005234535413

Twitter: https://twitter.com/taylinclavelli

 

Giveaway:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Please welcome Lex Chase!


 Americana Fairy Tale 
(Fairy Tales of the Open Road #1)
by 
Lex Chase

Blurb:
Modern fairy-tale princess Taylor Hatfield has problems. One: He’s a guy. Two: His perfect brother Atticus is the reincarnation of Snow White. Three: Taylor has no idea which princess he is supposed to be. Four: Taylor just left his prince (a girl) at the altar. Despite his enchanted lineage, Taylor is desperate to find his Happily Ever After away from magic, witches, and stuffy traditions. Regrettably, destiny has other plans for him. Dammit.
When word reaches Taylor that Idi the Witchking has captured Atticus, Taylor is determined to save his brother. He enlists the help of rakish and insufferable Corentin Devereaux, likewise of enchanted lineage. A malicious spell sends Taylor and Corentin on a road trip through the kitschy nostalgia of roadside Americana. To save Atticus, they must solve the puzzles put forth by Idi the Witchking. As they struggle, Taylor and Corentin’s volatile partnership sparks a flash of something more. But princesses have many enemies, and Taylor must keep his wits about him because there’s nothing worse than losing your heart… or your head.
Available to purchase 

Excerpt


“I’m getting a shower,” Taylor said and quickly shuffled into the
bathroom. In the silence, Taylor pressed his back to the door and slid to the
floor. He clamped both hands around the crotch of his shorts and hissed through
clenched teeth, “Stop, stop, stop, please, stop.”
He had to stop thinking
about his dream. And thinking about Corentin in that way. Corentin wasn’t even
his type! And Corentin’s type was clearly
not a raging homo-sheckshual. By all of Taylor’s understanding, Corentin’s breed
of redneck was of the misogynistic racist variety. Taylor paused. Was he just
telling himself that? Taylor mentally felt around the edges of the dream. He
flinched with the dirty feeling.
Shower. He needed a shower. Now.
He picked himself up off the floor, then staggered to the tub. The
enamel had seen better days, with that lovely rusty ring around it. The shower
curtain seemed to be a repository for all assorted natures of DNA. Taylor
gingerly touched it in an effort to move it just out of the way enough to turn
the faucet. Scuffed up and mottled with rust, even the faucet made him wince.
He ripped off a sheaf of cheap toilet paper to use to turn the faucet on. First
the water belched into the tub, then after a few rude bubbling gurgles, ran in
a steady stream. It wasn’t particularly warm, however. Taylor surmised he
didn’t really need a hot shower anyway.
He disrobed, dropping his clothes in a heap on the floor. But on
second consideration, he didn’t have anything else to change into. What he had
on his back was it. Like his cum-stained cargo shorts. Yuck. He scooped his clothes off the floor and hung up his shirt on
the towel rack. He’d have to do something about his shorts, because they’d
smell and get uncomfortably crusty. He chuckled. He would never have predicted
how contentious he’d become about cleanliness until he only had one change of
clothes for the foreseeable future.
As the tub faucet ran to get some marginable level of lukewarm, he
cranked the faucet in the sink. He let the water run over the crotch of his new
shorts and scrubbed them as best he could with the questionable cracked soap
bar.
Corentin knocked once on the door. “Come on, man. Gotta pee.”
“Hold your horses,” Taylor huffed. “Let me get in the shower first.
Great Storyteller Almighty.”
Taylor hustled and wrung out his shorts. He hung them also on the
towel rack and finally hopped into the shower before poor pitiful Corentin
could have an accident on the floor. Some self-reliant huntsman he was.
Couldn’t he go out back and take a piss on a tree? Of course, there would
likely need to be some nature of tree on the premises.
Taylor jerked the curtain across the tub for privacy and instantly
regretted taking a fistful of it in such haste. “Okay! It’s safe.”
“I heard princesses were prissy, but I didn’t think it applied to
male princesses,” Corentin said as he walked in.
Taylor could see the outline of his body through the haze of the
shower curtain. He pushed himself back against the far wall to gain some
distance. A small gap remained between the curtain and the shower wall, and he
carefully peeked. With a familiar clanking of a belt buckle followed by a
zipper, Taylor instead sent his gaze upward to Corentin’s face and his bare
shoulders. Corentin had done away with his shirt, and Taylor’s face heated with
the view. Corentin was lean, like a panther, his tattooed skin pulled tight
over his biceps and hard abs. He finished, flushed, and turned away to zip his
pants. Taylor pressed his fingers to his lips at the sight of the rise of Corentin’s
tight rear as he shifted to the sink and washed his hands.
He studied himself in the mirror while Taylor stared through the
shower curtain.
Corentin swung open the door and called behind him, “Don’t use all
the hot water.”
“O-oh-okay,” Taylor croaked, his face hot from gawking.
The door shut with a click, and Taylor sighed with the relief. He looked down at himself in
disappointment. Taylor was filthy from dirt, sweat, and whatever else was
lurking in Corentin’s disgusting truck. He turned, reaching for the cracked
soap bar. The blacked grooves in the soap made him reconsider. He reached for
the mini Johnson & Johnson shampoo bottle and uncapped it. After a careful
sniff, he tried to make sure it wasn’t rancid and questioned if it was possible
for shampoo to go rancid. Figuring he would chance it, he scrubbed himself down
with the terrible No More Tears formula.
He breathed one more time, trying to cope with the lukewarm water,
and then decided it was time to face the reality of a nasty motel room with a
man he didn’t trust who made him blush. He shut off the water and carefully
maneuvered out of the shower without touching the petri dish that served as a
curtain.
Taylor considered his clothes. His shirt could use airing out, and
his shorts were a definite no. His only option was a towel around the waist. He
didn’t even like that option in high
school
, let alone in the middle of nowhere with the current company. Ringo
was there, though. That made it better. Ringo would save him.
Covering himself, Taylor took a breath. On a mental count of three,
he turned the doorknob.
And the chill of the overworked window unit hit him square in the
bare chest.
Fuck,” Taylor gasped and
scuttled to the bed. He immediately wrapped himself in the threadbare blanket,
which didn’t help at all. He had a string of curses on his tongue when he
finally glanced up and saw Corentin.
More specifically, saw Corentin’s tattooed torso.
Corentin, on the other hand, busied himself with making notes in
his monstrosity of a book. His brow would furrow every time he underlined
something with a determined gesture across the page. He seemed not to notice
Taylor’s open staring at the intricate black ink of an oak tree drawn in the
style of Gustave Doré. The trunk of the tree was a full sleeve with the roots
growing from Corentin’s left wrist, and at his shoulder, the branches twisted
in a windblown manner across his collarbone, shoulder blade, and a few branches
even curled at the base of his neck.
Taylor swallowed. At least it explained why Corentin was so covered
up for June weather. But something was strange about the tattoo. There were
seven boughs, but only one had leaves.
Corentin kept making notes and didn’t look up. His brow furrowed
into an even angrier contortion, and he wrote faster. When he apparently ran
out of space, he flipped his book to sit horizontally and wrote in tiny print
in the margins. He hesitated, tapping his pen on the paper.
Taylor pulled the blanket higher on his shoulders. The steam from
his body captured under the blanket helped in making the chill of the room
bearable.
Corentin scribbled again in his book. He frowned and scribbled in a
repeated gesture. He shook his pen with a flick of the wrist and tried again.
He grunted and threw the pen. “Fuck,” he said and went fishing in his messenger
bag. He feverishly reached around, looked in, and then reached around again. He
puffed a sigh and upturned the bag onto the carpet.
A palm sized bottle of liquid bounced across the floor and Corentin
scrambled to snatch it midtumble. He glanced at Taylor and offered a smile.
“Hand sanitizer. Can’t go anywhere without it.” He quickly shoved the bottle
into a side pocket of his bag.
Taylor said nothing, merely watching the bizarre display as
Corentin poked through the crumpled receipts, hair ties, old cracker wrappers,
and various unidentifiable crumbs and wadded-up trash. He also flipped through a
collection of condoms in shiny magenta wrappers and printed with hearts and
lips. Taylor tightened his grip on the comforter and his face heated. Well, at
least they were cherry flavored or something?
Corentin shook the bag again, and Taylor remained silent.
As a roll of duct tape tumbled out.
And then zip ties.
Taylor’s eyes snapped wide. Corentin had fucking huntsman death
tools on him at all times. He shivered and scooted back on the bed. He judged
the distance from the bed to the door in case he needed to run at a moment’s
notice. Obviously a naked guy running down the interstate would get some
attention. But he hadn’t seen any cars on the interstate since they ended up
here. He nibbled at his lip. Maybe if he stole Corentin’s truck? That seemed
like a good idea.
“Ah!” Corentin said, clearly relieved he apparently found a pen,
and ignored the zip ties and duct tape. He resumed his furious scribbling.







About the Author







Lex Chase once heard Stephen King say in a commercial, “We’re all going to die, I’m just trying to make it a little more interesting.” She knew then she wanted to make the world a little more interesting too. 



Weaving tales of cinematic, sweeping adventure and epic love—and depending on how she feels that day—Lex sprinkles in high-speed chases, shower scenes, and more explosions than a Hollywood blockbuster. She loves tales of men who kiss as much as they kick ass. She believes if you’re going to going to march into the depths of hell, it better be beside the one you love. 



Lex is a pop culture diva and her DVR is constantly backlogged. She wouldn’t last five minutes without technology in the event of the apocalypse and has nightmares about refusing to leave her cats behind. She is incredibly sentimental, to the point that she gets choked up at holiday commercials. But like the lovers driven to extreme measures to get home for the holidays, Lex believes everyone deserves a happy ending. 



Lex also has a knack for sarcasm, never takes herself seriously, and has been nicknamed “The Next Alan Moore” by her friends for all the pain and suffering she inflicts on her characters. She is a Damned Yankee hailing from the frozen backwoods of Maine now residing in the burbs of Northwest Florida, where it could be 80F and she’d still be a popsicle. 



She is grateful for and humbled by all the readers. She knows very well she wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for them and welcomes feedback.

You can find Lex at





               









Giveaway





Presented By

Please welcome Louise Lyons! (includes giveaway)

Conflicted header banner

Two competing gangs of car and drag racing enthusiasts with a shared history of pain and rivalry leading to outright hatred. Two men from opposite sides of the tracks, yet more in common than they’d like to admit.

Paul Appleton is a troubled man who has never been in a relationship, having lost everyone he cared for in his life. His mother died when he was very young and subsequently, he lost his brother and his best friend. Now Paul is convinced love will always end in tears.

Greg was living on the streets after his parents died and was stabbed by a junkie, ending up in hospital. The Buchanans took Greg under their wing while doing charity work, and Greg joined their loving family when he was adopted. He and his siblings are also car enthusiasts with much more money and therefore better cars than Paul Appleton’s gang.

When they eventually find a connection, Paul fights his feelings and tries to convince himself his lover is only a temporary bit of fun, but Greg has other ideas.

Excerpt:

Conflicted coverGreg went to the bar to get a beer and was just handing over the money when he noticed the very man he had been hoping to avoid was right next to him, nursing his own bottle of Budweiser.

“I thought you went to a bar in Stevenage,” Paul commented without looking at Greg.

“I couldn’t be bothered driving over there tonight,” Greg said and gulped some of his beer. He leaned against the bar and glanced at Paul. His gray T-shirt looked about three sizes too small and only emphasized the size of his shoulders and broad back. Intentional, no doubt. His faded jeans were even tighter, and clung to his muscular thighs and firm ass as if they were painted on. Damn, he was hot, and Greg wanted to kick himself for thinking that.

“Not even in the new car?” Paul turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow. His eyes were deep brown and piercing, as if he were looking into Greg rather than at him.

“Not tonight.”

“Nice, by the way. Shame we don’t all have rich parents to shower us with toys like that.”

It was just what Greg expected – a brief compliment quickly crushed by an insult. He was immediately pissed.

“You know nothing about it,” he growled.

Paul shrugged. “I can’t blame you. I wouldn’t have said no either.”

“Listen, Appleton, I won’t pretend I’m not smug as hell driving around in an R34, but I didn’t ask for it and to be honest, I would rather have bought a car I can afford with my own money, which I do earn, by the way. I don’t just live off of them like a fucking leech!”

“Alright, chill, I’m sorry,” Paul said.

“Yeah, well, it gets up my nose that people think I’m rich and spoiled when I work hard like anybody else. I can’t help the fact that I got adopted by the Buchanans. I came from an ordinary family, same as most people, even you.”

“My family was anything but ordinary,” Paul grumbled. “So how come you were adopted anyway?”

“You actually want to know?” Greg asked in surprise.

“Yeah, why not?”

“Okay, we might as well get a seat, then.” Greg turned away from the bar and headed for a corner away from the main bustle, leaving Paul to follow if he felt like it. Greg wasn’t particularly delighted by the prospect of spending more time with him, but since he was here, there wasn’t much else Greg could do. Annoyingly, his pulse sped up as he made his way to an unoccupied corner bench and sat down. He chewed his lip. Paul was still at the bar, speaking to someone he apparently knew, but a moment later, he moved away and walked toward Greg. Fuck, those jeans were tight, and Greg would have bet Paul had no underwear on either.

Jesus, don’t stare. He shifted his eyes up – to bulging pecs. Heat rushed to his groin, and he tried to think about something else. The last thing he wanted was a hard-on, but too long with no fun except for his own hands, and now the company of the hottest guy in the pub, had him stiffening regardless. Greg wondered what the chances were. Would Paul be up for it? Greg knew nothing about him, but he couldn’t imagine him being shy. Greg would bet Paul would shag anything that looked twice at him – or certainly play around with them.

“So? You were going to tell me where you came from,” Paul prompted, dropping onto the seat a little distance away, facing Greg.

“Uh…um…yeah, well, my parents were just ordinary – my dad was a builder and my mum was a waitress. They died in a car crash when I was sixteen.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Paul said with a frown. “Did they treat you okay?”

“My parents? Of course, why wouldn’t they?” That comment puzzled Greg, but he carried on talking. Anything to stop himself imagining Paul’s hand, which was gripping his beer bottle, wrapped around Greg’s cock instead. “They had a huge mortgage, the house got repossessed after they died, and the system didn’t want to know. I lived on the streets for a year, then ended up in hospital, and Agnes Buchanan, who was there doing charity work, took pity on me. And the rest is history.”

“That was lucky.” Paul nodded. “What put you in hospital?”

“A bloke with a knife.”

“Shit.”

“So, how did you end up living with…Stewart Sanders, is it?” Greg asked.

“It’s a long story,” Paul grunted. “I left home when I was sixteen, and he and Abby took me in.”

“Why did you leave?”

Paul scowled and drained the rest of his beer before answering. “It’s not important.”

“Humor me,” Greg said, genuinely interested.

“I’m not here to entertain you!” Paul snapped and got to his feet.

“Hey…” Greg protested. Hell, the guy had a chip on his shoulder. A huge chip. And he was about to walk away from Greg just when he was beginning to convince himself that they were getting along, and that he might possibly get his hand inside those tight jeans later. But Paul was already walking to the bar.

“Shit!” Greg growled under his breath. He was annoyed that Paul walked away and more annoyed still that he was disappointed. It had seemed like they might be starting to move past what happened at Octane, and Greg hoped the stupid feud might have been forgotten too.

Paul hadn’t gone far. He had wedged himself between two men at the bar and was waiting to be served another drink. Greg stared at his ass until he turned around again and then quickly dropped his eyes and pretended interest in the last mouthful of beer in his bottle.

“Sorry.” Paul appeared at the other side of the table, placed a fresh bottle of Bud in front of Greg, and then stepped over his legs and took up his original seat, maybe a foot closer to Greg than before.

“No, I’m sorry. I suppose I come across as if I’m prying, but really, I’m just interested.”

The corner of Paul’s mouth twitched up slightly into a hint of a smile. “Just don’t ask me about family.”

“Okay. So can I ask about your job at the club? Don’t they need you on a Friday night?”

“They rotate the weekend days off. It’s my first in the month I’ve been there. It’s a good job – decent pay too, better than the shitty warehouse I was in before.”

“Yeah, I imagine bouncers get paid pretty well.” Greg nodded. “Do you have to use your fists much?” Damn, Greg, what the hell did you say that for? He cursed himself.

Paul grinned. “Not really. You get more trouble with drunken girls trying to slobber all over you.” He pulled a face. “If there’s real trouble, you diffuse it rather than add to it. I do kickboxing and jujitsu to help with that.”

“Cool,” Greg said. It was something they had in common. “I did kickboxing for a few years. I’ve been thinking about taking up something else too.”

Paul nodded and took another drink. Greg watched the movement of his throat as he swallowed and imagined his lips were wrapped around his cock instead of the bottle. He shifted awkwardly and rested his arm across his lap, hoping not to draw attention to the fact that he was getting uncomfortably hard. Paul lowered the bottle, and his eyes slid from Greg’s face, down his chest, and fixed on exactly what he was hoping Paul wouldn’t look at. He grinned and trapped the tip of his tongue between his teeth. Oh fuck. He was checking Greg out and way more obviously than Greg was checking him.

Should Greg ignore it, or go with it? Did he seriously want to get off with Paul? How difficult would that make things if they ran into each other at shows or something in the future? What the hell would the family say if they found out? What on earth was Greg thinking when he considered taking a chance with a person who went out of his way to make trouble for himself and others?

Greg thought for another minute and realized that it was going to be the only chance he had, at least for that evening. Besides, who was going to know? Paul didn’t want anyone finding out about him anymore than Greg did.

“What are you looking at?” Greg grunted as a way of starting a sort of flirting interaction.

“Isn’t it obvious? Like my company, do you?” Paul responded.

“It seems like it, doesn’t it?”

Paul arched an eyebrow and leaned back. He shifted his ass forward on the seat and drew attention to the fact that the ridiculously tight jeans were virtually crushing him. Greg could make out the head of his cock pushing against the fabric. He wondered if it was his imagination or if he was more turned on than he’d ever been in his life.

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Louise Lyons comes from a family of writers. Her mother has a number of poems published in poetry anthologies, her aunt wrote poems for the church, and her grandmother sparked her inspiration with tales of fantasy. Louise first ventured into writing short stories at the grand old age of eight, mostly about little girls and ponies. She branched into romance in her teens, and MM romance a few years later, but none of her work saw the light of day until she discovered FanFiction in her late twenties.

Posting stories based on some of her favorite movies, provoked a surprisingly positive response from readers. This gave Louise the confidence to submit some of her work to publishers, and made her take her writing “hobby” more seriously.

Louise lives in the UK, about an hour north of London, with a mad Dobermann, and a collection of tropical fish and tarantulas. She works in the insurance industry by day, and spends every spare minute writing. She is a keen horse-rider, and loves to run long-distance. Some of her best writing inspiration comes to her, when her feet are pounding the open road. She often races into the house afterward, and grabs pen and paper to make notes.

Louise has always been a bit of a tomboy, and one of her other great loves is cars and motorcycles. Her car and bike are her pride and joy, and she loves to exhibit the car at shows, and take off for long days out on the bike, with no one for company but herself.