Cover reveal! Beautiful boy by Grace Duncan

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Link @ Dreamspinner: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=7068

Beautiful boy Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, M/M Publisher: Dreamspinner Press Cover artist: Aaron Anderson 104,000 words Release date: 11/20

If Kyle can get past his fears, he could see what his beloved Master Mal does: a beautiful boy that deserves his collar–and heart.

 

Blurb:

Malcolm Tate hung up his flogger when his submissive sought out another Dom and landed in the hands of a serial killer. Convinced his lack of dominance sent his sub away, Mal has spent two years blaming himself for what happened. But when his best friend finally convinces him to go back to the local dungeon, Mal’s grateful. Especially when he wins beautiful, submissive, firmly-closeted Kyle Bingham in a charity slave auction.

College grad Kyle hasn’t earned enough to move out of the loft his conservative, homophobic parents bought, much less to buy any of the other things still in their name. When he’s won at auction by the hot, amazing Mal, he’s shocked that anyone would want him. No one else seemed to—not his parents, his former Doms, or any of his disastrous dates.

But Mal does want him and Kyle lets his guard down, only to be outed to his parents. With his world crashing down, he must find a way to trust Mal—and their developing relationship—or risk losing everything.

 

Author bio:

noh8Grace Duncan grew up with a wild imagination.  She told stories from an early age – many of which got her into trouble.  Eventually, she learned to channel that imagination into less troublesome areas, including fanfiction, which is what has led her to writing male/male erotica.

A gypsy in her own right, Grace has lived all over the United States.  She has currently set up camp in East Texas with her husband and children – both the human and furry kind.

As one of those rare creatures who loves research, Grace can get lost for hours on the internet, reading up on any number of strange and different topics.  She can also be found writing fanfiction, reading fantasy, crime, suspense, romance and other erotica or even dabbling in art.

Find Grace here:

Website  ◊ FacebookTwitterYoutubeGoodreads

 

Please welcome Grace R. Duncan!

I’m so excited to announce my new novel Turning His LIfe Around is up for pre-order with an amazing cover from Paul Richmond!

TurningHisLifeAroundFS

Title: Turning His Life Around
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Release date: July 6, 2015
240 pages, 87k words
Cover Art: Paul Richmond

Can Kane recognize what’s right in front of him before he loses everything?

 

When Kane Harris’s world turns upside down, his lifelong best friend is the only one to catch him.

Years ago, Ian Kelly accepted Kane would never return his love, since he knows Kane believes he’s incapable of it. Ian is willing to settle for what he can get—a best friend, sometimes casual lover, and occasional submissive. He’s learned he can’t live without Kane, but he can’t let Kane know. Because when, not if, Kane confirms that Ian’s love will never be returned, Ian won’t be able to take it. But when Kane loses his job and asks Ian to step up their play to help him deal, Ian’s ability to hide his feelings falters. Then Kane starts his own computer security firm and asks Ian to join him, and Ian struggles further.

It’s not until they visit the exclusive BDSM club the Iron Door that things come to a head. Kane screws up big time, and he’s afraid he can’t fix it. He’s sure he’ll lose his best friend, his Dom, his everything… forever.

Pre-0rder it now from Dreamspinner Press!

 

 

 

Excerpt:

IAN COAXED his ancient Toyota into the parking spot next to Kane’s Accord and shut off the engine. He was exhausted. He’d gotten into a fight with the IT director again, was given another project to work on with the database developer whom he hated with a passion, and had been forced to sit through no less than three completely useless meetings in the afternoon. All he wanted to do was eat something and go kill something. Not necessarily in that order.

He dragged himself out of the car and locked it, tossing his bag over his shoulder. He trudged up the steps, giving a halfhearted wave at their elderly neighbor, a sweet old lady not entirely with it anymore. She was out on her balcony in little more than a nightgown, watering nearly dead plants. She smiled a wide, toothless smile and he gave a weak smile back.

He finally made it to the apartment door on the third floor. He slammed the door deliberately so Kane would know he was home, then kicked off his shoes, hung his keys up, and shed his jacket. He put it in the closet before heading down the hall.

Their living room wasn’t all that big, but they didn’t care. Half of it was taken up with their computer desks, stuffed next to each other and covering one entire wall. Opposite them was the large flat screen TV and entertainment center, complete with all three major gaming consoles, a home theater system, and large collection of movies and games. In front of the TV, between it and their desks, was the one piece of furniture they’d spent any real money on: their couch. They’d had more than a few friends crash with them, and they’d finally broken down and bought a decent one for them to sleep on. It had certainly come in handy a few times when they’d decided to fuck there in the living room too.

Ian shook his head at the thought and turned his attention to Kane. He had his headphones on and there was a battle going on the screen, one hand was on the keyboard, and the other was on the mouse.

“No, goddammit! He was… fuck. What do you mean you’re out of power? That’s not what I see! Just… send in the pet. Fine. Look, we’re in the bottom of fucking Moria. You can’t fuck around like that!”

Ian leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, and watched the battle. There were way too many enemies for Kane’s group—he could see that from there.

Goddammit!” Kane shouted, ripping his headphones off and throwing them onto the desk.

“Pick-up group?” Ian asked.

Kane spun around, and Ian glanced over Kane’s shoulder to see his character’s corpse lying on the ground. “Yeah. Why do I get into them again?”

Ian shook his head. “I don’t know. They’re not usually that bad in Middle-earth, though, are they?”

“No, which is why I’m so pissed.” He sighed. “Must be the daytime players.”

“Want to order in tonight?” Ian asked, crossing the room to stand next to his friend.

“Chinese?” Kane looked up hopefully, and Ian laughed.

“Sure. If we can order from the place that does the sushi too.”

“Done!” Kane grinned and snatched at the menu he kept pinned to the small bulletin board over his desk. “How was your day?” he asked as he looked over the menu.

Ian sighed. “Long. Meetings all damned afternoon. I hate meetings. I hate people. And, um, don’t you have to deal with your group?” He pointed at the screen.

Kane shook his head. “No, I dropped it. I should port back, though.” He turned back to the computer and clicked a few things. His corpse revived, the pretty green swirls surrounded him, and the loading screen came up, complete with a twenty-four-inch version of a spider.

Ian shuddered and looked away. Instead, he turned to inspect his friend. He could tell something was bubbling under the olive skin and nearly black eyes. He knew it was very likely the old job, the new job hunt, and the frustration Kane was likely feeling over it. Kane always thought too much, spent way too much mental energy worrying about things.

“Did you work out today?” he asked, giving in and playing with a bit of Kane’s shaggy ebony hair.

“Yeah,” Kane said, and that one syllable told Ian enough: that while the workout might have done some, it most certainly wasn’t enough. He knew Kane would have gotten started on what he had to do, would have done what he felt he needed to, and hated every second of it. He was likely worried about money and not looking forward to working for another bullshit company with bullshit politics and bullshit people.

He knew his friend well.

They’d been friends since they were six. He’d met Kane one hot summer day behind his house, and from that point on, Kane had just always been there.

Kane spun back around in his chair and surprised Ian. He wrapped his arms around Ian’s waist and pulled until they were tight against each other, burying his face in Ian’s stomach.

“Kane?”

It’s not that they never hugged or touched. They did—quite often, in fact, for two people who weren’t committed lovers, but this was… different.

“Sorry. Just….” He didn’t continue, instead shook his head a little.

At a loss for what to do, Ian wrapped his arms around Kane’s shoulders.

They stayed that way for a few moments, and then Kane pulled back. “I’m sorry. Just overthinking things today.” He peered up at Ian. “And you’re tired. Let’s get dinner ordered. Want to play for a while?”

Ian considered him for a moment. As much as he wanted to log in and play too, he knew Kane’s current state of mind was not conducive to making any kind of progress. They’d end up dying more than once; then they’d get frustrated over it. Death in the game was relatively painless, but it was still annoying and inconvenient. Which would only serve to make things worse.

Maybe what he needed was another type altogether. “Maybe. Maybe what you need is a different kind of play tonight.” Ian watched Kane’s eyes. His pupils expanded just a bit and his breathing quickened. “Would you like that, pet?”

“Yes, Sir.” Kane’s voice was clear and deferent, his eyes dropping away.

Ian’s own breath quickened and he worked to get hold of himself. “Very well. Strip, get the cushion, and get on your knees. Wait here for me.”

“Yes, Sir,” Kane answered, voice already rough with anticipation, and as Ian stepped away, he hurried to obey.

* * *

About Grace:

noh8

Grace Duncan grew up with a wild imagination. She told stories from an early age – many of which got her into trouble. Eventually, she learned to channel that imagination into less troublesome areas, including fanfiction, which is what has led her to writing male/male erotica.

A gypsy in her own right, Grace has lived all over the United States. She has currently set up camp in East Texas with her husband and children – both the human and furry kind.

As one of those rare creatures who loves research, Grace can get lost for hours on the internet, reading up on any number of strange and different topics. She can also be found writing fanfiction, reading fantasy, crime, suspense, romance and other erotica or even dabbling in art.

WebsiteFacebookTwitterGoodreadsEmailAmazon Author Page

Blast from the Past: Deception by Grace R. Duncan

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Tagline: Cyrus and Nadir care deeply for each other but they’ve forgotten the first rule of love: communicate in honesty. Their love remains strong enough to weather the changes—if they have the courage not only to face the coming dangers, but to put aside deception and find their truth.

Title: Deception Author: Grace R. Duncan Series: Golden Collar #2 Genre: M/M, Historical, BDSM, Erotic Romance Publisher: Dreamspinner Press Release Date: November 1st, 2013 Cover Artist: Paul Richmond Format/s: eBook / Paperback Length: 380 pages

Blurb:

Cyrus and Nadir first met as hungry orphans on Behekam’s streets at twelve years old. They became friends, then partners in the thievery that enabled them to survive, and as they passed their days together, they fell in love. When they are both taken as pleasure slaves in the opulent palace of the Malik of Neyem, love becomes more complicated.

Rumors of an attempt on Malik Bathasar’s life put Cyrus and Nadir’s relationship to the test—they must pose convincingly as intimate slaves to the young malik as part of a plan to lure the assassin into the open. Teman—Malik Bathasar’s real personal pleasure slave and true lover—was once trained by Cyrus for the same duties, and the attraction and care Cyrus developed for him then still remains. The Malik of Neyem proves an easy man to love and Nadir’s feelings for him grow while they’re pretending to love each other.

Cyrus and Nadir care deeply for each other but they’ve forgotten the first rule of love: communicate in honesty. Their love remains strong enough to weather the changes—if they have the courage not only to face the coming dangers, but to put aside deception and find their truth. A Timeless Dreams title: While reaction to same-sex relationships throughout time and across cultures has not always been positive, these stories celebrate M/M love in a manner that may address, minimize, or ignore historical stigma.

Dreamspinner Press: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=4384 Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00GDGY15K/ All Romance eBooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-deception-1334872-147.html

Excerpt: (Rating: Mature)

“Your hair is getting long, Cyrus. About due for a trim?” Karum asked.

Cyrus nodded and tilted his head back as Karum poured the water over him. “Yes. It is. Nadir says he likes it like this, but it gets in my eyes and drives me insane. Though, if Nadir likes it, I may just leave it and learn to deal.”

Karum laughed. “Makes me glad I don’t have a lover. I like my hair the way it is.”

Cyrus glanced over his shoulder at Karum’s very short black hair. It was cropped almost to the scalp and in tight curls. Karum had dark skin, much darker than any of the other slaves, and it was rumored that he had been picked up by a trading caravan on the other side of the sea. “Oh, it is worth it.”

“Even here?” Karum asked.

Cyrus hesitated. How many times had he said something like absolutely! But he wasn’t sure that was true anymore. He glanced up at Nadir, who caught his eye and smiled. That smile always made him feel better, always warmed him, and he put aside his gloomy thoughts. He returned Nadir’s smile, and his lover’s widened. “Yes, even here,” Cyrus replied. “We are limited, but I can accept that to have Nadir with me. I love him.” He shrugged a shoulder at the simple statement and closed his eyes so Karum could rinse his hair.

Karum made quick and silent work of the rest of Cyrus’s bathing; then he was dried off and moved to the bench to be adorned. These adornments hadn’t changed much since Bathasar had taken the throne, as the nobility they appeared at dinners to entertain still liked to see them. So the basket Karum brought over contained a familiar jumble of gold in chains, clips, and other things.

Salehi stepped in at that moment and crossed the room. “Just a moment, Karum. They won’t be using all of that yet. They will be taking some of it along.” He lifted a cloth bag. “The snake and chains that connect to it will be put on them later.” So saying, he lifted a few items from the basket and placed them in the bag. He handed a light golden version of their cock cages to Karum. “Put this on him first,” he instructed, and Karum did as he bid, oiling the inside of the cage portion before securing it in place and locking it.

The next thing Karum picked up was a metal plug. Cyrus braced himself on the bench as oiled fingers stretched him just enough to take it. Karum worked it into him slowly. Then, at a light tap on his back, he stood and fidgeted slightly as the pressure on his prostate increased. It was one thing he never really got used to. He wasn’t plugged all that often, except when he was present for court dinners.

His collar and cuffs were returned to him next. His collar was like the other slaves’: wide and thin, made of etched gold. It was hinged in the back with a loop in the front for the lock and another below it. Originally, the second loop had been for a leash to be attached, but Bathasar refused to allow them—one of the changes he made to the slaves’ treatment—and so it was reserved to connect simple decorative chains instead.

The cuffs were made just like the collars, without locks. Roughly two inches wide, they were very thin and etched in a similar pattern as the collar. They had small rings on either side of the wrists, but that was all.

Karum next fitted small gold nipple rings that surrounded Cyrus’s nipples, and pinched them closed. They didn’t hurt—barely even put pressure on them, just enough to stay in place and cause his nipples to harden. Cyrus could—and often did—take pain during the course of his service, so he didn’t mind a bit of it, but he liked these rings because they didn’t cause any. Chains were attached to the rings, then hung between his nipples and connected to the loop on his collar.

He was given gold hoops for his ears and more snakes to wrap around his biceps. Karum carefully combed his hair, Salehi handed him the bag with the other items in it, and he was ready.

When he looked at Nadir, adorned as his lover was, his cock jumped. He never got enough of seeing Nadir done up like this. Nadir’s lighter olive skin warmed with the gold, and the thought came to Cyrus that someday, maybe, he could put jewelry on Nadir—jewelry he had purchased just for his lover.

He closed the distance across the room and took Nadir’s hand. “You are, as always, beautiful,” Cyrus murmured and kissed Nadir on his cheek, near his ear.

Nadir’s smile was wide. “You are the beautiful one, Cy.” Cyrus shook his head, but Nadir just laughed. “Stop. You know it is true. Lord Atherol tells us all the time. So does Teman. Even the malik.”

“They also say that you are, as well,” Cyrus countered, and Nadir laughed again.

“That is true,” he conceded. “Well, we shouldn’t keep our master for the night waiting, should we?”

“No, we should not,” Cyrus agreed. He turned toward the door, and, with head bows at Salehi, they made their way out of the slaves’ wing.

 

Praise for GRACE R. DUNCAN

“I really enjoyed the characters, and loved watching them on their journey. Duncan does a great job of giving a really detailed story, and taking us on a great ride as two men find their happily ever after.”

—Joyfully Jay, on “No Sacrifice

“There were so many wonderful themes going on in this story, I was wrapped up in them all and couldn’t wait to see how Grace brought them all together.”

—Love Bytes Reviews, on “No Sacrifice

“I don’t really read a lot of historical fiction but some of it is damn good, including Grace Duncan’s Choices… The world building is excellent and draws you right in. The character development is also wonderful.”

—Mrs. Condit & Friends Reads Books, on “Choices”

 

Grace’s Bio:

Grace Duncan grew up with a wild imagination. She told stories from an early age – many of which got her into trouble. Eventually, she learned to channel that imagination into less troublesome areas, including fanfiction, which is what has led her to writing male/male erotica. A gypsy in her own right, Grace has lived all over the United States. She has currently set up camp in East Texas with her husband and children – both the human and furry kind.

As one of those rare creatures who loves research, Grace can get lost for hours on the internet, reading up on any number of strange and different topics. She can also be found writing fanfiction, reading fantasy, crime, suspense, romance and other erotica or even dabbling in art.

Grace’s website: http://www.grace-duncan.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/GraceRDuncan2 Twitter: @GraceRDuncan Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/gracerduncan Google +: https://plus.google.com/+GraceDuncanAuthor/posts

 

 

Please welcome Grace Duncan!

href=”http://www.grace-duncan.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/10/HealingFS1.jpg”>HealingFS

In a world that’s gone to hell, will you let old fears keep you from the chance at more than just survival?

Blurb:

When Duncan stumbles into a pharmacy in search of something to fix his broken leg, he’s surprised to find someone else there. Like the rest of the post-pandemic world, it appeared empty. Instead, he discovers Mark, a former nurse who walked away from his profession after losing too many patients to the virus. Despite swearing he’d never practice medicine again, Mark patches Duncan up over Duncan’s protests. He even finds an abandoned house in the tiny town, and they settle in until Duncan heals enough to look out for himself. Much to the chagrin of both, they find themselves caring for each other.

Duncan welcomes it, thrilled at finding someone he can trust. However, he’s well aware of the shadows in Mark’s eyes and understands Mark’s reticence as he learns the story. But as he’s starting to do things for himself again, Duncan realizes he doesn’t want Mark to leave. He’s not sure if can get Mark to let go of his fears so they can stay together and love. But Duncan’s damned sure going to try.

Buy link: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5534
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Healing-Pandemus-Chronicles-Book-2-ebook/dp/B00OWKJS84/ref=la_B00BCMBWY8_1_6?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1414433407&sr=1-6
AllRomance eBooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-healing-1656462-145.html

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Excerpt:

He should have known better. Under normal circumstances, it was a stupid move, but right here, right now, “stupid” didn’t begin to cover it.

Duncan glared at his leg for another moment, then leaned his head back against the wall. He needed to keep moving. It hurt like hell, but he had to keep going. It wasn’t going to get better on its own. The gash needed to be cleaned and bandaged, and even if the break wasn’t bad, it should at least be braced. And it wasn’t like he could call an ambulance. Or even go into an emergency room.

Well, he supposed he could go into an emergency room, if he was in the city. But like a lot of other people, he avoided the cities whenever possible. And when it wasn’t, he stayed as far on the edge as he could. But even there, it was a dangerous risk. As corrupt as the cities were now, the price of anything was higher than most could pay. He’d heard rumors that, in some of the worst cities, people simply got shot if they couldn’t pay what the thugs in power wanted. It was all rumor, but rumor he wasn’t about to ignore.

So he did his damnedest to stay away.

He’d been stupid to jump off the ledge. Even at only a couple of feet higher than he was tall, the risk hadn’t been worth it. He’d have thought, after nearly three years, he’d learned how to be more careful and not take those kinds of risks. It wasn’t the first time he’d fallen and hurt himself—though, thankfully, the last one hadn’t involved a broken bone. Maybe it should have; he might have learned his lesson then.

“Really fucking stupid, Dun.”

Duncan steeled himself and pulled to his feet, grimacing when the sharp pain shot up his ankle and through his leg. “Fuck,” he muttered, breathing hard through his nose. When he finally focused past the pain, he looked up and noted the position of the sun, the only real indication he had for the time, and figured he had another good hour or two of light. If he was right about where he was, he wouldn’t need all of it. He tucked the stick he’d found under his arm, grimaced when it dug into the soft flesh, but then leaned on it and hobbled along again.

 

Grace’s Bio:

Grace Duncan grew up with a wild imagination. She told stories from an early age – many of which got her into trouble. Eventually, she learned to channel that imagination into less troublesome areas, including fanfiction, which is what has led her to writing male/male erotica.

A gypsy in her own right, Grace has lived all over the United States. She has currently set up camp in East Texas with her husband and children – both the human and furry kind.

As one of those rare creatures who loves research, Grace can get lost for hours on the internet, reading up on any number of strange and different topics. She can also be found writing fanfiction, reading fantasy, crime, suspense, romance and other erotica or even dabbling in art.

Grace’s website: http://www.grace-duncan.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/GraceRDuncan2
Twitter: @GraceRDuncan

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