Broken Mirror (Resonant Earth Volume 01) by Cody Sisco #BlogTour #NewRelease #OtherWorldsInk #LGBTQ+ #Paranormal #Romance #Giveaway #Queer

Moonbeams over Atlanta welcomes Cody Sisco to the blog. Broken Mirror is the first book in the Resonant Earth series, and this second edition was released on August 16th, 2024. There is a Rafflecopter giveaway at the end of the post for Tortured Echoes, the sequel to Broken Mirror. Read on to discover more and good luck!

BOOK BLURB

A fractured mind or a global conspiracy? Uncovering the truth can be hell when nobody believes you… and you can’t even trust yourself.

Broken Mirror is the first volume in a queer psychological science fiction saga that looks at the stigma of mental illness and the hellish distrust and alienation that goes with it.

Victor Eastmore knows someone killed his grandfather, the pioneering scientist Jefferson Eastmore. But Victor, diagnosed with mirror resonance syndrome, has been shunned by Semiautonomous California society. Nobody will believe a Broken Mirror. Now Victor must tread the line between sanity and reclassification—a fate that all but guarantees he’ll lose his freedom.

With its self-driving cars, global firearms ban, and a cure for cancer, the science fiction world of Broken Mirror may sound like a near future utopia, but on Resonant Earth, history has taken a few wrong turns. The American Union is a weak and fractious alliance of nations in decline. Europe manipulates its citizens through propaganda. And Asia is reeling from decades of war.

Determined to uncover the truth about Jefferson’s murder, pansexual Victor and his trans friend Elena set out on a road trip that takes them across the American Union from Semiautonomous California through the Organized Western States to the Republic of Texas. But Elena is holding something back, and Victor’s condition worsens.

Amid shifting geopolitical sands, Broken Mirrors like Victor find themselves at a cyberpunk crossroads: evolve or go extinct.

Warnings: violence, discrimination against characters with mental health challenges

Buy Links:

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EXCERPT

Chapter One

A new universe, its vibrations, called to me, and I answered, ignorant of the harm in crossing over.

—Victor Eastmore, Apology to Resonant Earth, (transmission date unknown)

Semiautonomous California

29 February 1991

It’s one thing to die quietly with things left unsaid among family members. It’s another thing to do what the great Jefferson Eastmore did with his secrecy and architecture of conspiracy: keep essential truths from Victor and put him on a collision course with an uncanny future.

Victor gazed across City Lake toward the tessellated foothills, where the elite families of Oakland and Bayshore kept their hedges trimmed and thorny. His grandfather’s sarcophagus was up there, surrounded by marble pillars and gold-gilt fencing shaped like twisted strands of DNA. A tidy and neat brick gravemound would never have sufficed, since at the end of his life, Jefferson was as grandiose as his cancer-curing career. The stones were plucked from the canals of New Venice, and a plaque listed the man’s many accomplishments. Not listed was his failed effort to cure Victor of mirror resonance syndrome.

Victor spun around to face the city skyline. The morning was bright and windy. The timefeed on his MeshBit indicated thirty minutes until his reclassification appointment. He could go and wait in the anteroom, but his anxious vibrations might shake the building to its foundations.

He took a breath. No going back. Before the sun reached its zenith that day, his path would materialize. If he were lucky, he could stay a Class Three: free but under close supervision. Or he could become a Class Two: under guard, imprisoned, at a rancho in the hinterlands. He whispered a cherished but inconsistently effective mantra to fight off brain blankness: The wise owl listens before asking who. Each episode of blanking out was one more step toward mirror resonance syndrome’s inevitable tragic end: becoming a comatose Class One, insensate, a forgotten ward of the government. The only unknown factor was how quickly the future would crash against him.

He trudged along the shoreline, tensing and relaxing his jaw, trying to distract himself. Glittering towers rose exultantly cityside. Squally breezes swooped out of a cloudless, azure sky and assaulted bulrushes, sedges, and cattails in the shallows where a grid of waterplots penned them in.

Granfa Jefferson had been poisoned. Victor knew it. He had proof. But his family didn’t believe him, and if he said any more about it, he would be locked away. Fair? No. Surprising? Not really. After all, his life was a farcical succession of tragedies. It wasn’t time to give up, though. Not while he had unanswered questions.

The palm trees encircling the lake rustled like cheerleaders shaking their pom-poms. The water rippled, creating countless sun flashes on the lake’s surface, and afterimages glowed and pulsed when he closed his eyes. The stench of goose shit turned his stomach.

He wedged the MeshBit’s detachable sonobulb in his ear, then called Elena. She answered right away. This was not the first time her promptness was suspicious.

“See?” she said. “When a friend calls, you should answer. Right away. Not never.”

“I know. I need your help,” he said. “My appointment is here. I’m having trouble.”

“Where are you?” she asked.

“City Lake. West shore.”

“I can’t get there in time.”

You were there for Granfa Jeff’s funeral. You showed up at my apartment whenever you wanted. Why can’t you be here now?

“Then talk to me,” Victor said. “Anything to keep my mind off my theories about Granfa Jeff.”

At the time, Victor had nothing close to the truth about Jefferson’s secret messages and plans for conspiracy and counter-conspiracy. He couldn’t have guessed his role in the proliferating conflagration that would transform every person on Resonant Earth and beyond. No one could have predicted the neuro-contagion that eventually radiated beyond the American Union of Nations, or the mind-machine hybridization that became humanity’s destiny, or the fact that crossing over to another world would become a possibility rather than paranoia. If Victor had guessed any of it, he might have failed his reclassification deliberately and shown up at the gates of a rancho to check himself in. All this was a lot to have piled onto a mentally unstable young adult.

“But you found radiation on the data egg,” Elena said. “I believe you. We’re going to figure this out.”


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Giveaway:

Cody is giving away an ebook copy of Tortured Echoes, the sequel to Broken Mirror:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link if unable to see the above embedded Rafflecopter: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47317/


AUTHOR BIO

Cody Sisco is an author, editor, publisher, and literary community organizer. His LGBT psychological science fiction series includes two novels thus far, Broken Mirror and Tortured Echoes. He is a freelance editor specializing in genre-bending fiction and the acquisitions editor for RIZE Press. In 2017, he co-founded Made in L.A. Writers, an indie author co-op dedicated to the support and appreciation of independent authors. His startup, BookSwell, is a literary events and media production company dedicated to lifting up marginalized voices and connecting readers and writers in Southern California and beyond. He serves as a co-executive on the Board of Governors for the Editorial Freelancers Association, as the treasurer for the LGBTQ+ Editors Association, and as a board member at APLA Health.

Author Website | Author Facebook (Personal) | Author Facebook (Author Page) | Author Instagram | Author Goodreads | Author Amazon

Take Some Tahini (Real Werewolves Don’t Eat Meat 06) by Karenna Colcroft #BlogTour #NewRelease #OtherWorldsInk #LGBTQ+ #Paranormal #Gay #Romance #Giveaway

Moonbeams over Atlanta welcomes Karenna Colcroft to the blog. In their 6th installment of the Real Werewolves Don’t Eat Meat series, Take Some Tahini released on July 11th. There is a $10 Amazon gift card Rafflecopter giveaway at the end of the post. Read on and good luck!

BOOK BLURB

Tobias Rogan never wanted to be a leader. But here he is, the Anax of the United States, ruler of all werewolves in the country. Only two weeks after winning the rank in a challenge fight against his senile predecessor, Tobias and his mate Kyle are still adjusting to their new reality when a frantic call alerts Tobias to the massacre of nearly half the wolves in a pack in North Dakota–including the pack’s Alpha and Beta.

An investigation reveals that the wolves responsible for the attack are from Canada. Tobias reaches out to Silas Creighton, Anax of Canada, and finds someone like-minded in wanting peace between the wolves of the two countries. At Silas’s invitation, Tobias and his mate Kyle, along with their new guard Quinn Boucher, sole survivor of the North Dakota massacre, travel to Nova Scotia to put an end to the conflict between the American and Canadian werewolves. But not all wolves are interested in peace–and not all want Tobias to survive the trip.

Warnings: violence, gun violence, discussion of past sexual abuse, homophobia

Buy Links:

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SERIES BLURB

Kyle Slidell didn’t move to Boston expecting to be changed into a werewolf. But that’s what happened. He can’t control whether he shifts at the full moon, but he can damn sure continue being vegan–even in wolf form.

Tobias Rogan, Alpha of Boston North Pack, never expected to fall in love with anyone, let alone a man. A male Alpha is not supposed to have a male partner. But when he meets Kyle, he’s immediately attracted. And after Kyle is changed, Tobias realizes the truth: Kyle is not only his partner, but his mate.

The werewolf world isn’t a simple place, and Kyle and Tobias are thrown into the middle of conflict within and among the packs of the United States–a conflict that extends all the way to the top of the werewolf hierarchy. Can they and their love survive what they face?

Series Link


EXCERPT

I debated knocking and decided to just try the doorknob. Kyle had better hearing than the rest of us. He knew I was here. If he didn’t want me to enter the apartment, he would have locked the door.

He hadn’t.  The knob turned easily, and I pushed the door open and entered the living room that had been mine for decades.

The light in the room was off, but the kitchen light was on. I set down my bag and walked slowly into the other room. And there, I found my mate.

Seeing Kyle sitting there, at the same table in the same apartment where our relationship had grown, felt like a knife in my heart. I’d found him. But the way he looked at me almost made me wish I hadn’t. I’d never seen such pain and anger in his eyes.

His eyes mirrored my own emotions. Pain at how he’d left me, not a word to me, not even speaking to me when I reached out. Rage at being abandoned by the one person who had sworn never to do that.

I didn’t know whether to hug him or beat the shit out of him. I did neither, just stood in the doorway, fists clenched, waiting for him to fucking say something so I could.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.” I went toward the other chair but stopped. If I got too close to him, I might lunge across the table and strangle him. I closed my eyes just long enough to let an image of the ocean form. It didn’t calm me as much as usual, but at least it washed away the urge to hurt Kyle for hurting me. Which was good. I would never hurt Kyle.

I had before. I hadn’t meant to, but I had. And I’d sworn I never would again.

I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. “You’re here.”

“And the sky is blue, grass is green, and werewolves have fur.” He folded his arms. “You found me. Now what?”

His tone was completely flat. No anger, which would have been a good sign if he’d shown any other emotion. But there was nothing. He didn’t want me there. I could feel that through our bond, which was actually a good sign. The bond was still intact. But the way he spoke, the way he looked at me, sent my temper on the upswing again. How fucking dare he be a sarcastic asshole after what he’d done to me?

I gritted my teeth and forced another long, slow breath. “We talk. You tell me why you left, and we decide if we can fix it.”

“And if we can’t?”

“Then at least we talked to each other!” My voice rose, and I didn’t give a shit, even though Kirk could hear and probably everyone in the other two buildings could as well. “You just took off, Kyle. You didn’t say a damn thing, just took off. I was worried.” My eyes watered, and I blinked a few times as my anger ebbed. “I love you.”

“You have a weird way of showing it.” He sighed. “Sit down, would you? Unless you’re trying some Anax intimidation tactic on me.”

“I’m not.” I sat and leaned my elbows on the table. “How could you do that? How could you just leave without saying a fucking word?”

“I didn’t know what to say. You would have told me not to go. And I wouldn’t have gone. And I would have kept dealing with all that shit.”

“What shit?”

“You know.” He waved. “I’m a weakness for you. I shouldn’t exist or whatever. Those assholes back in California.”

“So you fucking walked out on me because of them?” I was so furious I was shaking. “You left as soon as I was gone. You knew you were going. You were gone by the time I called you, and you didn’t say a goddamn word. How could you do that?”

“I should have.” This time, emotion filled his tone. “I’m sorry, Tobias. I just…I needed to get the fuck out of there. And I knew you would have told me not to go. I didn’t want to do this.”

“Do what?”

“This.” He gestured toward me. “Argue. Process our feelings. I just wanted to get away from the homophobes and the memories. Living in that house…I’m guessing you have some decent memories of the place. You went there for years for the national gatherings. A couple weeks ago was my first time being there, and I spent most of the gathering in a goddamn cage, Tobias.”

I felt like he had jammed a blade into my heart. Involuntarily, I took a step back. How had I not realized? I knew all too well what trauma could do, but I hadn’t even considered how Kyle must feel waking up every single day in the place where he’d been dragged away from me and locked in a tiny basement cell.


Amazon Buy Link

Giveaway:

Karenna is giving away a $10 Amazon gift card with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link if unable to see the above embedded Rafflecopter: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47313/


AUTHOR BIO

Karenna Colcroft lives just north of Boston, Massachusetts, and has been in love with the city since childhood, though she has yet to encounter any werewolves, vampires, or other paranormal beings in her travels. At least none that she knows of.

Karenna is a polyamorous, nonbinary human who lives in Massachusetts with her husband. She also has two adult children and three “bonus” kids, four grandchildren, and two and a half cats. (Half in terms of time the cat lives with her, not in terms of the cat itself…)

Author Website | Author Facebook (Personal) | Author Facebook (Author Page) | Author Amazon

Down the Line (Jake’s Bar 04) by AG Meiers #BlogTour #NewRelease #OtherWorldsInk #Romance #LGBTQ+ #Giveaway #Suspense #Gay

Moonbeams over Atlanta welcomes AG Meiers. She has a new gay romantic suspense in her Jake’s Bar series Book 4: Down the Line.

BOOK BLURB

Revenge is a Dangerous Obsession.

Dean Hunt needs the story of a lifetime—Since his uncompromising attitude got him fired, the investigative journalist is hell-bent to expose the powerful and corrupt Conway family. It’s a career move, and absolutely not a vendetta against the oldest son Noel, who ghosted Dean after a mind-blowing weekend together.

Noel Conway needs a new start—After years away, Noel has come home to rebuild the bridges he’s burned. Too bad his past caused a ripple effect he can’t outrun. Now, he’s asked to save his family from the one man he never expected to see again but can’t forget.

Dean is chasing front-page news, and Noel is trying to protect the ones he loves. But the line between enemies and lovers gets blurred when a dangerous criminal from Noel’s past resurfaces. Will the truth shatter their tentative trust? Or do they have a shot at happily ever after?

But none of that matters when suddenly Noel disappears…

Down the Line, the final book in the award-winning Jake’s Bar series, is a spicy, M/M romantic suspense featuring a rainbow-colored bar full of quirky characters, and all the romance you can handle. So, download today, and get ready to fall in love with Jake’s Bar.

Warnings: smoking cigarettes and weed in the hot tub, kidnapping (on page scenes restrained), verbally abusive father

Universal Buy Link

ABOUT THE SERIES

The award-winning Jake’s Bar series is a set of steamy, M/M romantic suspense novels, featuring a rainbow- colored bar full of quirky characters, and all the romance you can handle.


Giveaway

AG is giving away a $10 Amazon gift card with this tour: a Rafflecopter giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47310/?


Excerpt

As Dean reached the top of the staircase, a man stepped out of the shadows in front of his door. Dean straightened his shoulders. “Detective Conway.”

“Hunt.”

In a parallel universe, they might have been friends. They were fighting the same fight. Had the same enemies. In this world, they weren’t brothers in arms. In this world, Dean had been cast as the villain.

“How can I help you this fine morning?”

“Open the door. We gotta talk.”

“Look, it’s been a long night—”

“Just open the damn door.” Conway snarled, pushing into Dean’s personal space.

Dean stood his ground. “Are you here in an official capacity? Because then, the answer is no, I won’t let you in. You have no warrant, no permission to search my property. I don’t consent—”

“Just shut the fuck up. None of us wants this shitshow to be on the record,” Con growled.

Dean, curious, took a step back and raised his empty hand, palm up. “Okay.”

He fished for his key, pushed open the door, and quickly disarmed his alarm system. Conway didn’t wait to be invited in, just crossed the living room, dropped his shearling coat onto the sofa, then walked over to the large window overlooking the river.

The view was the only redeeming feature of Dean’s otherwise-generic apartment. The mess didn’t help. There were dirty dishes piled up in the sink, a pizza box on the breakfast counter separating the cramped kitchen from the living room, and an unmade bed in the other corner of the room.

“For a guy who anxiously waited at my doorstep, you’re awfully quiet.” Dean smirked. “Coffee?”

“No.” Conway turned his back, now studying the row of framed newspaper front pages Dean had hung on the apartment’s interior wall. His personal collection of historic headlines—headlines that changed the world.

The oldest was from July 6, 1776. The Pennsylvania Evening Post, printing the Declaration of Independence on its front page. Next to it, the Daily Telegram, declaring the end of the Second World War. The two most recent, the New York Times’ “OBAMA: Racial barrier falls in heavy turnout” and, of course, the front page the day after 9/11.

Dean had added a few more personal favorites, like Moneta J. Sleet’s photography of Coretta Scott King at MLK’s funeral. The first Black man to win the Pulitzer for journalism.

Conway took his time examining each framed newspaper. Dean already regretted allowing the intrusion into his space. He felt exposed—vulnerable—under silent scrutiny.

Irritated, he started banging around the kitchen. He was in no mood to explain that looking at those headlines every day fueled his ambitions and inspired his dreams. Dean believed with every fiber of his being in the power of a free and independent press.

He turned on the coffee machine and leaned against the counter. As if Conway felt Dean’s angry glare across the room, he finally turned and stared right back. For a moment, they engaged in a silent standoff.

Unease flittered through Dean. Camille had been right. Her brother was seething with anger. And Dean had no fucking idea what he’d done to piss him off. He sighed and shook his head, then took two mugs out of the cabinet and put them onto the island. “Miguel, have a damn coffee. You look like you need it.”

“Says the man who clearly slept in his party clothes and crept home at sunup.”

“Guilty as charged.” Dean shrugged.

Conway curled his lip. “I do not know what my sister sees in you.”

It wasn’t a question, so Dean didn’t bother with an answer. “You wanted to talk? So, talk.”

Instead of talking, though, Conway pulled out a stack of papers. Pushing aside the coffee cups to make room, he spread them out over the counter.

Dean froze. The first blurry photograph featured Dean in another man’s arms. In the next, the same man was pressing Dean against a white porch railing, his own hands tangled in the man’s messy curls. Conway fanned the stack, revealing nearly a dozen more.

Dean and Noel Conway, kissing.

Suddenly, he was there again, the ocean breeze tugging on his clothes. Noel’s warm skin, tasting like sunshine and a hint of salt, his eyes blown with desire. Goddamn, so fucking beautiful, with that shy smile, whispered promises—

Dean’s throat was desert dry. His ragged breath and the hissing of the coffee machine came together like a fucking symphony. “I—”

“Save it. My sister thinks you’re this hotshot journalist. Full of passion. Braving adversity. Motivated by a noble cause. Yeah, fuck that. You’re after my family because Noel pounded your ass, then dropped you like he does everybody else. Your pride—your precious ego—is hurt because you’re just another notch in my brother’s carved-up bedpost.”

Conway grabbed his jacket and walked to the door. He turned and added, “Watch it, Hunt. You got no job. No friends. No prospects. But if you think you’ve reached rock bottom, think again.”

Dean contained himself until he heard his door close with a soft click. Only then did he allow himself to swipe papers, cups, and the fucking photos off his counter. The cups shattered on the tile floor.

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Author Bio

Eighteen years ago, AG Meiers came to the US for adventure and stayed for love. Currently, she lives in New England with her husband and two awesome kids—balancing work, friends and family, and writing.

When she has some free time, her favorite thing to do is travel and visit new places. Her past trips have already brought her to a variety of countries on four continents. She never passes up an opportunity to experience different cultures, diverse people and amazing locations.

Even though she has been dreaming up stories all her life, she has only recently started to write them down and share them with the world. As a writer she loves to put her characters through a lot of challenges, conflict and heartbreak, before she allows them to find their happy-ever-after.

Website | Facebook (Personal) | Instagram | Amazon

Earthquake Ethan (Forces of Nature 03) by R.L. Merrill #BlogTour #NewRelease #Romance #LGBTQ+ #Gay #Giveaway

Moonbeams over Atlanta welcomes R.L. Merrill today. She has a new contemporary MM romance out, in her Forces of Nature series, Book 3: Earthquake Ethan.

Forces of Nature Book Three Earthquake Ethan by R.L. Merrill

Book Blurb:

The Earth shook the morning actor Ethan Bradley arrived in Los Angeles looking for a second chance. He hoped his former producers Reese Matheson and Toby Griffiths meant it when they said to look them up if he were ever in LA because he had no other options. The pictures the paparazzi took at the wrap party for their London show made sure of that. What he wasn’t counting on was the reception he got from their manager, Arthur Frye. He was absolutely the kind of together guy Ethan wished would notice him, and for more than his pretty face and talent. Too bad Arthur only sees Ethan as a complication.

Arthur Frye has his hands full with his best clients—and best friends. The last thing he needs is another diva to care for, especially one who has a reputation for causing trouble. He has a strict rule against getting involved with the talent, no matter how pretty they are. Only Ethan Bradley shines for real, and when Arthur realizes his nice-guy innocence is genuine, he’s ready to do anything to help Ethan get his career back on track and get him out of LA. He’s too much of a temptation, and Arthur can’t afford to lose focus…not even for a chance at happiness for himself. Especially not when his star clients are about to risk their professional and personal happiness with their newest creation; a musical about two boys falling in love in the 1960s featuring music written by Reese’s grandfather, whose health is in decline.

Ethan Bradley shakes things up wherever he goes, and Arthur Frye is afraid he’ll be left in the wreckage if he gets too close. Can these two opposites find love on solid ground?

Warnings: implied sexual abuse off page

About the Series

Forces of Nature follows a group of talented men who are natural disasters, and the men who love them.

AmazonQueeRomance Ink | Goodreads


Excerpt

The morning after Ethan Bradley landed at LAX the earth shook. Literally. Being from Iowa, he’d always been afraid of earthquakes. He remembered watching footage when he was a little boy of the one that hit Northridge and it stayed with him. He’d even turned down a part in the film San Andreas because he was terrified of the real thing.

Plus—at the time—he’d wanted to be considered a serious actor, and accepting a role in a Hollywood disaster blockbuster didn’t fit in with his professional goals. Instead, he’d ended up going to London to film a clever romantic comedy. Then came the stage and more accolades at the age of twenty-six than he’d imagined possible.

When his hotel room rattled his first morning in LA and sent him diving under the desk in the early hours, he’d wished he’d stayed.

But London had nothing to offer him after the paparazzi ruined his life, and he couldn’t go home. So there he was, back in the states, and ready to grovel before his former producer—and crush—for a role, any role, that would allow him to get back to doing what he loved…acting, singing, performing.

Love was a strong word. It was what he knew, what he was good at, where his God-given talents lay.

He’d come to LA with a plan. Sort of. Go see Reese Matheson. Pray he opened the door and took pity on him. And that he didn’t hold a grudge.

He plugged the Malibu address he’d gotten from his London manager’s office into the Lyft app and went outside to wait for his ride. And prayed.

If Reese wouldn’t see him, he had a plan B.

He’d go to see Reese’s business partner Toby Griffiths. Which was probably a terrible idea, but the best he had.

Because there was no plan C.

He had exactly fifty dollars cash on him and a credit card dangerously close to being maxed out. Rock bottom was flying up to meet him fast.

The Lyft driver dropped him off at the end of a long driveway leading to a quaint little house that backed up to the Malibu shoreline. He knew nine o’clock on a Sunday morning was early, but the earthquake had shaken him so much, he couldn’t wait to get out of his room at the Holiday Inn. He’d been to LA before to promote his films, but he’d never felt comfortable among the glitz and glamour of Hollywood and Beverly Hills.

Malibu had the scenery people thought of when they imagined Southern California. Palm trees, mountains that broke off into the sea, miles of sand with beautiful people jogging along the water’s edge. It was picturesque, and sometimes cliché. For Ethan, it represented his last hope.

He climbed the steps, cleared his throat, reached for that enthusiastic confidence that used to come so easy for him once upon a time—

The door opened before he even had a chance to knock.

The short Filipino man standing there in a pair of scrubs had one eyebrow raised and a hand on his hip.

“Can I help you?”

His tone didn’t come across as helpful, despite his words.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m looking for Reese Matheson? My name is—“

“I know who you are.” The man’s raised eyebrow turned into a frown. “Just a minute,” he said before closing the door with a little less force than a slam.

Breathe. It’s fine. Reese is a good guy. He won’t be angry that I showed up. He’s a generous, kind person—


Giveaway

R.L. is giving away a $25 Amazon gift card with this tour: a Rafflecopter giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47309/?


Author Bio

R.L. Merrill brings you stories of Hope, Love, and Rock ‘n’ Roll featuring quirky and relatable characters. Whether she’s writing about contemporary issues that affect us all or diving deep into the paranormal and supernatural to give readers a shiver, she loves creating compelling stories that will stay with readers long after.

Winner of the Kathryn Hayes “When Sparks Fly” Best Contemporary award for Hurricane Reese, Foreword INDIES finalist for Summer of Hush and RONE finalist for Typhoon Toby, Ro spends every spare moment improving her writing craft and striving to find that perfect balance between real-life and happily ever after.

She writes diverse and inclusive romance, contributes paranormal hilarity to Robyn Peterman’s Magic and Mayhem Universe, and works on various other writing and mentoring projects that tickle her fancy or benefit a worthy cause. You can find her connecting with readers on social media, educating America’s youth, raising two brilliant teenagers, trying desperately to get that back piece finished in the tattoo chair, or headbanging at a rock show near her home in the San Francisco Bay Area! Stay Tuned for more Rock ‘n’ Romance.

Website | Facebook (Personal) | Facebook (Author Page) | Instagram | Goodreads | QueeRomance Ink | Amazon

The Hencha Queen (Tharassas Cycle 03) by J. Scott Coatsworth #BlogTour #NewRelease #OtherWorldsInk #SciFi #LGBTQ+ #Giveaway

J. Scott Coatsworth has a new queer sci-fantasy book out, Tales from Tharassas book 3: The Hencha Queen.

“A richly painted world that is both beautiful and sinister, evoking landscapes that are as much science fiction as Tolkiensian fantasy. 5 stars.” –Ulysses, Paranormal Romance Guild

BOOK BLURB

SILYA COMES INTO HER OWN, BUT WILL SHE BE ENOUGH?

Silya finally has everything she always wanted. She’s the Hencha Queen, head of the Temple, and is working to master her newfound talents. So why does the world pick now to fall apart?

Her once-nemesis Raven is off riding dragons, and their mutual friend (and her ex) Aik is nowhere to be found. Meanwhile, a new threat menaces the Heartland from the East, and if she can’t convince a reluctant Gullton city council to prepare for the worst, she may lose everyone and everything she’s ever cared about.

As she uses her magic-like abilities, wit and sheer determination to try to save the city, she’s joined by Raven and his new friends. Will their help tip the scales? And will they finally find out what happened to Aik as a dark storm threatens to sweep them all away?

Forget messy. Things just got apocalyptic.

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The Hencha Queen by J. Scott Coatsworth

ABOUT THE SERIES

The Tharassas Cycle is a four book sci-fantasy series set on the recently colonized world of Tharassas. When humans first arrived on planet, they thought they were alone until the hencha mind made itself known. But now a new threat has arisen to challenge both humankind and their new allies on this alien world.

Tales from Tharassas prequel cover

Books 1 & 2 are on sale through March 31st for just 99¢ each (eBooks, all vendors). And if you buy one (or all three) of the main series books, email scott@jscottcoatsworth.com and let him know and he’ll send you a free copy of Tales From Tharassas, the prequel.

See All the Pre-Release Deals


Giveaway

Scott is giving away an eBook copy of Tales from Tharassas, the prequel, to everyone who enters the sweepstakes: a Rafflecopter giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47308/?


Excerpt

A sharp crack filled the wine cellar. Kerrick swung the heavy mallet back and then assailed the flopwood boards that blocked the tunnel entrance again. The ancient wood splintered under the blow, sending shards clattering across the stone-paved floor.

It felt good to work out his frustrations. Still, the stubborn wood held out against his assault.

He rested the mallet on the black-tiled stone floor, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. Even after a hundred years, the barrier was strong. He’d tried to pry the boards out of the solid stone, but they’d been fastened in too tightly. Brute force it is.

“You’re doing great!” Cor’Lea’s voice was artificially bright, and she was as tall as he was, maybe a little taller, peering over his shoulder at the sealed tunnel entrance.

Silya had tasked her with bringing him down here to check out these hidden caverns under the Temple, in preparation for the coming war. Important, sure, but also clearly an excuse to get him out from underfoot while she prepared for her official Raising.

He grunted. “Thanks. These boards are hard as iron.” And hard as Silya’s will.

One day things would be different between them, once this crisis was over. I just have to be patient.

Coral laughed. “I’m sure a big, strong man like you can break through them easily.” She squeezed his bicep appreciatively.

He shrugged her off. He wasn’t sure if the gawky initiate was flirting with him or just trying to encourage him to get on with it, but either way, he wasn’t interested. “Stand back.” He hefted the hammer again, and she scurried out of his way.

He suppressed a smile, swinging the mallet around for another heavy blow.

Craack.

This time the board buckled inward visibly. Another few hits should do it.

He pulled back the heavy iron hammer again and hit the same spot with blow after blow. Craack. Craack. Craack.

The mallet broke through and a board fell away into splinters, clattering across the stone floor. One down, three more to go. “Why did they seal this cavern up?”

Cor’Lea gestured at the natural chamber. “There was a winery here before the Temple. Sister Dor said they used to use it for extra wine storage.” She looked around the natural chamber, which was now filled with wooden shelving holding a variety of bottled food stores. “When Jas ordered the Temple to be constructed, they kept this wide cavern and blocked off the rest of the tunnels.”

“Just in case the gully rats got in?” That thief Raven had apparently made his home in one of the underground tunnels. Who knew who else—or what else—lived down there?

Cor’Lea snorted. “Maybe.”

Are tunnels all connected, somehow? That was one of Silya’s most urgent projects, to map out the network of caverns beneath the city. Another reason she sent me down here—to get me out from under her robes.

A few more whacks at the next board served to both break it and let out his frustrations at the situation preventing him from doing his sworn job and keeping them apart. And at what she said was coming.

Craack. Craack. Craack.

The board snapped in half, and he judged that he’d cleared enough space to step through into the blocked-off tunnel. “Hand me that lantern?

Cor’Lea complied, taking the opportunity to brush his hand.

He rolled his eyes. I should be flattered. But his heart was already taken.

It was times like these he wished his brother Enrick were still alive. He’d know what to do. He’d been absurdly confident about everything, even though he’d been younger than Kerrick.

Kerrick wasn’t great with women.

He took the lantern and stepped over the bottom board, holding it in front of him. The bright light temporarily blinded him as he sought to get his bearings.

“What do you see?” Cor’Lea peered through the hole behind him.

His sight adjusted, and the tunnel’s walls came into focus.

He whistled. Stacked along the side of the tunnel were hundreds of crates, all strapped together in groups and sealed. “It’s… I don’t know what it is. But I’ll bet Silya will be surprised.” They’d have to find a place to put all this stuff—whatever it was, it was likely rotten after all this time. Silya needed somewhere to store people, not ancient goods.

Cor’Lea stepped carefully over the splintered boards to join him. “What do you think’s inside them?”

The long row of crates disappeared into the darkness. Who knew what the ancients had considered valuable enough to stash down here. Coin? Lost treasure? “One way to find out. Does the Temple have a crowbar?”

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Author Bio

J. Scott Coatsworth

Scott lives with his husband Mark in a yellow bungalow in Sacramento. He was indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine. He devoured her library, but as he grew up, he wondered where all the people like him were.

He decided that if there weren’t queer characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.

A Rainbow Award winning author, he runs Queer Sci Fi, QueeRomance Ink, Liminal Fiction, and Other Worlds Ink with Mark, sites that celebrate fiction reflecting queer reality, and is the committee chair for the Indie Authors Committee at the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA).

Website | Facebook (Personal) | Facebook (Author Page) | Mastodon | Instagram | Goodreads | Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com) | QueeRomance Ink | Amazon

#NewRelease Multi-Author Rise QSF’s Annual #FlashFiction #Contest #Anthology Edited by J. Scott Coatsworth

Rise

Queer Sci Fi has a new flash fiction anthology out: Rise, and my story is a part of it. And there’s a giveaway too.

RISE (Noun, Verb)

Eight definitions to inspire writers around the world, and an unlimited number of possible stories to tell:

  1. An upward slope or movement
  2. A beginning or origin
  3. An increase in amount or number
  4. An angry reaction
  5. To take up arms
  6. To return from death
  7. To become heartened or elated
  8. To exert oneself to meet a challenge

Rise features 300-word speculative flash fiction stories from across the rainbow spectrum, from the minds of the writers of Queer Sci Fi.

About the Series

Every year, Queer Sci Fi runs a one-word theme contest for 300 word flash fiction stories, and then we choose 120 of the best for our annual anthology.

Publisher | Amazon | Apple Books | Barnes & Noble | Bookshop.org | Google Play | Kobo | Scribd | Smashwords | Thalia | Vivlio | Goodreads | Universal Buy Link


Giveaway

Queer Sci Fi is giving away a $25 Bookshop.org gift card with this tour:

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Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47301/


Excerpts

Rise Meme

It’s a simple recipe.

Passed down in whispers and hands tracing hands through flour and faith. Never written down, paper being too precious for such a small spell, some might say. Like something must be loud to have worth.

A common myth, one that serves her quiet magic well.

She sits pretty in commonhalls and houses, empty eye-sockets and a cloak of harmless charm enough for most to dismiss her. Certainly, her weaving or kneading is all her pretty head can handle.

She listens, and her hands move. Each stitch another secret, gossip kneaded into every loaf.

—From Simple Recipes for Small Magics – Ziggy Schutz

It wasn’t the principles that Matt Harden objected to. The principles were fine: Limited planetary resources. Circle of life. The wrongness of playing God.

But, he thought as he spread the herbs on the basement floor in the prescribed way, the principles were bullshit when you were faced with reality. When the only man who’d ever held your heart was stolen from you by a moment’s distraction behind the wheel. When you never had the chance to even say goodbye. When your body in bed was as cold and alone as a corpse in a coffin.

When the night mist was clammy on your neck and the grave-dirt heavy on your shovel.

—From Principle and Reality – Kim Fielding

“He’s here,” Matt said, slamming the door behind him. “You ready?”

“Think so,” Rory said. He’d finished the salt circle, and quickly moved on to placing the candle in the center.

“Will this work?”

“It’s this or nothing.” Once Tiff told them she’d survived a run in with the killer known as The Hook, Rory knew they were as good as dead. Supposedly this bastard had been killed before, but he never seemed to stop. Much about The Hook seemed unreal, but Rory thought it was the only weapon they had – the unbelievable. Besides, they were gay; those characters always died first.

From Best Served Cold – Andrea Speed

“You do realize,” the nurse said gravely, “that without your parent permission form, this procedure can only be temporary.”

“I do,” Sharon said nervously. Sharon. That was a good name, right? Sounded like Shawn, but wasn’t. Was a girl’s name. A woman’s name. She liked Sharon.

“And that given your parent’s lack of support for this, there will be a counselor assigned to your home to ensure your safety?” The nurse continued, checking the talking points on her tablet with precision.

“I won’t need it,” Sharon said nervously. “They think it’s a phase, but they’re not, you know, hostile.”

From A New Day – Amy Lane


Author Bio

This year, 554 authors entered the Rise contest. 120 of them were chosen, and their stories are included in this anthology:

  • Jordan Abronson
  • Aisling Alvarez
  • CJ Aralore
  • Ellery Arden
  • Anusha Asim
  • K. Aten
  • Drew Baker
  • Jeff Baker
  • Evelyn Benvie
  • Eytan Bernstein
  • L. R. Braden
  • Sorren Briarwood
  • Kayleen Burdine
  • Siri Caldwell
  • Sonja Seren Calhoun
  • Jennifer Caracappa
  • T. D. Carlson
  • Caro
  • Minerva Cerridwen
  • Amanda Cherry
  • Dawn Spina Couper
  • Monique Cuillerier
  • Lynden Daley
  • Claire Davon
  • Ef Deal
  • Francine DeCarey
  • Nicole Dennis
  • Sarah Doebereiner
  • Kellie Doherty
  • Allan Dyen-Shapiro
  • Markus McCann Edgette
  • Kim Fielding
  • Tom Folske
  • Athena Foster
  • Ani Fox
  • Beáta Fülöp
  • Jendia Gammon
  • Storm Grant
  • Chad Grayson
  • Gabbi Grey
  • Kaje Harper
  • Narrelle M. Harris
  • Kelly Haworth
  • Chisto Healy
  • Megan Hippler
  • Joanna Michal Hoyt
  • Grace Hudson
  • Meghan Hyland
  • Jeff Jacobson
  • Erin Jamieson
  • W. Dale Jordan
  • Adrik Kemp
  • Olivia Kemper
  • Jamie Lackey
  • Aidee Ladnier
  • Amy Lane
  • Tris Lawrence
  • Brenda Lee
  • Katrina Lemaire
  • Gordon Linzner
  • Jayne Lockwood
  • Clare London
  • Nathan Alling Long
  • Patricia Loofbourrow
  • J.C. Lovero
  • Ilyas M.
  • Stacey Mahuna
  • Paula McGrath
  • Atlin Merrick
  • Amanda Meuwissen
  • Eloreen Moon
  • Jaime Munn
  • RJ Mustafa
  • Oliver Nash
  • Annika Neukirch
  • Jess Nevins
  • Rory Ni Coileain
  • K.L. Noone
  • Milo Owen
  • Chris Panatier
  • J Piper
  • Nia Quinn
  • Mere Rain
  • D.M. Rasch
  • Kazy Reed
  • LS Reinholt
  • Alexei Madeleine Reyner
  • Emerian Rich
  • Rie Sheridan Rose
  • Anna Rueden
  • Curtis Rueden
  • Carol Ryles
  • Jamie Sands
  • Rodello Santos
  • Sumiko Saulson
  • Aradhya Saxena
  • Ziggy Schutz
  • C.J. Scott
  • Alex Silver
  • Roxanne Skelly
  • sparks
  • Andrea Speed
  • Chloe Spencer
  • Robin Springer
  • Andrea Stanet
  • Nathaniel Taff
  • O.E. Tearmann
  • Tori Thompson
  • George Underwood
  • Avery Vanderlyle
  • Joz Varlo
  • Dawn Vogel
  • Rhian Waller
  • Dean Wells
  • Devon Widmer
  • B Wilkins
  • Holli Rebecca Williams
  • Paul Wilson
  • X. Ho Yen
  • Jamie Zaccaria

Queer Sci Fi Website: https://www.queerscifi.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/qsfdiscussions

Mastodon: https://mastodon.otherworldsink.com/@queerscifi

Other Worlds Ink logo

An Excerpt from my story:

A steady heartbeat woke me. Panicked, I saw myself in a cryo-healing tube.

“Shhhh, Mai Mai, you’re ok,” a soothing voice echoed inside the chamber. “Don’t panic. The surgery was successful and you are recovering.”

“I thought that I was only going in for the gender change?” I croaked, a little confused as I remembered.

From Chrysalis – Eloreen Moon
"My flash fiction story is in this new anthology!" written in white text to the left of a child stand on a cliff holding rope leading to a bow tie attached the full moon at the top. Rise is lettered sideways on the right side with R as dark red, I as bright orange, S as a lighter orange and E as yellow. At the bottom in a black banner with white lettering is "Queer Sci Fi's Tenth Annual Flash Fiction Contest in all caps. In the background is a sunset at the bottom with a night sky and stars around the moon.

#Blitz The London Chance by Lane Hayes #Contemporary #LGBTQ #Gay #Romance #Rafflecopter

Title: The London Chance

Author: Lane Hayes

Publisher: Lane Hayes

Release Date: July 25, 2023

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 27,500

Genre: Romance, Romantic Comedy, Bisexual Romance, Gay Romance, Humor, Contemporary Romance

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Synopsis

Two strangers, an online dating app, and a chance at forever… Chance After months of online correspondence with a sexy businessman, we’re finally meeting in person—in London, no less! Okay. It’s a casual meet-up. Nothing to get excited about. I fully understand that online connections don’t always translate in person. Roman could be pompous or worse…boring. Wish me luck! Roman Dinner with my online “friend” doesn’t go well. I shouldn’t be disappointed. That’s life. But just as I’m ready to write our peculiar acquaintanceship off, Chance turns up unexpectedly at a karaoke bar. Don’t ask what I’m doing there. I have no idea. However, I don’t mind at all. It feels like the universe is giving us a cosmic redo. Sure, Chance lives in California and my home is in the UK now, but this feels like the real thing. Something worth taking a chance on. A forever chance. The London Chance is an MM, bisexual romance featuring an American, a Canadian, a dating app, and an unexpected HEA.

Excerpt

“What time is it?” I grumbled, rubbing my stubbled jaw. “Half one,” a deep, rumbly voice replied. I spun on my heels with my mouth wide open, unsure where to begin. An apology, a thank-you, maybe even a fuck-you.…Words weren’t my friend without caffeine and if it was really one thirty in the afternoon, I was going to have a difficult time navigating this one. If I was going to unravel in a foreign country, was an audience necessary? And better question…did it have to be this man? Roman stepped into the room, instantly taking over the space. The combination of his height, broad shoulders, and broody presence made him seem intimidating as fuck even in a navy V-neck sweater, casual jeans, and bare feet. His hair flopped roguishly over his right eye, which should have softened his sharp features, but…it didn’t. He was devilishly handsome and sexy and— I think I puked on his shoes last night. Oh, please let this be a bad dream. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping for a scene change and a new cast when I opened them again. Nope. I was still in Roman’s guest room, standing three feet from the man himself, wearing his T-shirt and— “Are these your boxers?” I asked, plucking at the silky red fabric. One corner of his mouth twisted in wry amusement. “They were a gift. You can have them. How are you feeling?” I wrinkled my nose. “I’ve been better. I’m sorry about—” “Don’t worry about it.” He waved dismissively and moved to the doorway. “Would you like coffee or tea?” “Coffee, please.” He smiled kindly. “You got it. I’ll make toast and bacon too.” “Thank you. Coffee is fine, but—” I paused to look around the immaculate room. “I need my clothes.” “Trust me. You don’t want your clothes.” “Huh?” “I threw your socks and underwear in the wash, but your suit and shirt needed to be dry-cleaned. They’ll be ready tomorrow. I’ll grab a pair of sweatpants and socks for you. You’re welcome to shower. The toothbrush on the counter is the one you used last night. I’ll leave clothes on the banister for you. Meet me downstairs when you’re ready.” Roman was gone before I could thank him or protest. I decided I wasn’t ready to deal with the fuzzier parts of last night that had resulted in my clothing immediately needing to be dry-cleaned. I headed for the bathroom instead. The deliciously hot shower under a wide spray felt so amazing, I never wanted to get out. And the thick towel on the warming rack was a slice of nirvana. I dried myself, then wrapped the towel around my waist and wiped steam off the mirror. I scanned the marble-and-glass haven as I brushed my teeth, sighing at the very unwelcome memory of kneeling on the tiled floor in front of the porcelain god. How was I going to face this man? I’d been a fucking mess last night. Running into traffic, dancing in the rain…and oh…shit. I’d called him daddy. More than once. Heat bloomed across my cheeks as I rinsed and patted my mouth dry, but I couldn’t exactly hide in here. I slipped the boxers and tee on and found a pair of gray sweats and black socks perched on the banister post where Roman said they’d be. I finished dressing, finger-combed my short hair, and took one last cleansing breath before following the scent of coffee downstairs.

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Meet the Author

Lane Hayes loves a good romance! An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters. She loves wine, chocolate and travel (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband and her fabulous pup, George.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Instagram | BookBub

Giveaway

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#Blitz Tangled Warriors (Weavers Circle 04) by Jocelynn Drake & Rinda Elliott #NewRelease #LGBTQ #Menage #Romance #MM #Giveaway #Paranormal #multiplepartners

Title: Tangled Warriors

Series: Weavers Circle #4

Author: Jocelynn Drake & Rinda Elliott

Publisher: Drake & Elliott Publishing LLC

Release Date: September 24, 2021

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 85k

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Thriller/Suspense

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Synopsis

Lucien Cummings

The pestilents are trying to kill him.

He’s pretty sure the Water Weaver wants to kill him as well.

But after two months of fighting an attraction for a man who couldn’t possibly be his mate, Lucien cracks when he’s pulled into an impulsive threesome with Calder and a sexy man they picked up in a bar.

That night was earth shattering.

And now he needs to figure out how to keep both men safe and his.

Calder Saito

Calder doesn’t want to fight his attraction for the Fire Weaver any longer, but they can’t really be soul mates, right?

And what about Gio? The sexy man gives him such a feeling of completeness and peace.

Could one man really have two soul mates?

Gio Russo

Can’t he just have them both?

Tangled Warriors is the fourth book in the Weavers Circle series. This MMM paranormal romance includes fast-paced action, running through Savannah, secrets, shapeshifting, kidnapping, deadly Girl Scouts, sexy times, insecurity, three crazy old ladies, soul mates, and magic!

Excerpt

“Shots!” Gio suddenly proclaimed. “I think we could all use a round of shots. What do you say?” He looked up at Lucien and smiled. “Join me in a round of shots. Break the ice.”

“Nothing feels icy to me,” Lucien murmured, while the fingers on Calder’s waist tightened.

He suddenly felt bad. He was intruding like an annoying little brother. Yes, his intention had been to stop Lucien from hitting on this guy, but now that he was standing there, he felt how wrong it was. What Lucien did and who he slept with was none of his business. He was supposed to be working on getting rid of the bad blood between him and Lucien, not making matters worse.

“None for me,” Calder said softly. “I’ll grab the drinks and get out of your way.”

Gio surprised him by cupping the side of his face with a warm calloused hand. “Oh no, sweetness. We don’t want you going anywhere. You’ve got to stay.” Gio looked over Calder’s shoulder at Lucien. “We want him to stay, right?”

Calder tensed, waiting for the rejection, but Lucien shocked him even more by pulling him in tighter so that he could feel Lucien’s groin against the small of his back. Those long fingers slipped down from his waist to caress his hip bone, sending the most delicious tingles all over his body. “Stay. Have a shot with us,” Lucian pressed. His voice was warm and so very tempting. Calder couldn’t remember ever hearing Lucien talk to him like that. He wanted to live in that voice. Just curl up in it like a warm, handmade quilt.

Releasing him, Gio turned to the bartender as she delivered Lucien’s and Calder’s mix of drinks and ordered a round of shots. Calder didn’t hear what he’d ordered exactly because Gio had also slotted himself better against Calder, causing his brain to short out. He was now in the one place he’d never thought he’d be—a Gio-Lucien sammich. Even with all their clothes on, it was now his favorite kind of sandwich. He would happily eat it every day for the rest of his life.

Calder was too tongue-tied to manage words. He nodded. At least he thought he nodded. He must have done something, because Gio’s smile grew wider. A second hand landed on his hip right where Lucien’s

The shots arrived, and Gio slid one over to Lucien before physically placing one in Calder’s hand as if he knew that his brain wasn’t in control of his body any longer. He watched as Gio clicked his shot glass on Lucien’s and then Calder’s. Tipping his head back, he sent the amber liquid down his long, sexy throat. Calder did the same without a thought. The burn was enough to wake him out of his stupor.

Sucking in a harsh breath, he coughed several times while slamming his shot glass on the bar. Gio grabbed his hand again and shoved a drink into it. Without thinking, Calder sipped it, relieved that it was his gin and tonic. The addition of more alcohol to his system probably wasn’t the smartest, but at least it had gotten rid of his coughing.

When he could breathe, he took a deep drink and set the glass on the bar to find Gio smiling at him while Lucien’s hand continued to dig possessively into his hip.

You okay?” Lucien inquired. For once, the question didn’t sound spiteful or mean. There was genuine concern in his tone.

Calder managed a small nod and Gio laughed.

Of course he’s okay. What are you drinking, sweetness?” Before Calder could answer, Gio leaned in and licked his bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth for a second, then releasing it with a wet pop. “Mmm…gin and tonic. Not bad.”

Calder barely heard the words. It was just a rush of blood past his ears as it raced to his steadily hardening dick.

As Gio moved away, he reached past Calder and pulled Lucien close. “And what are you drinking?” Calder watched as Gio licked his way into Lucien’s slack, welcoming mouth. He didn’t know what turned him on more—actually kissing Gio or watching Gio kiss Lucien. It defied all logic, but it was clear that his libido had zero interest in logic. He only wanted to know all the wonderful things Gio could do with his mouth.

Gio released Lucien and licked his own lips slowly. His dark eyes had turned black as his pupils dilated with desire. “I can tell this is going to be a fun night already. I suggest we head to my place so we can get more comfortable and less likely to be arrested.”

We? Calder croaked out.

Review

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I love the Weaver’s Circle series and had just finished book three when I had received the notification for this blitz several weeks ago. It was perfect timing! I wasn’t sure if I could get it read in time for this post, but I managed. It’s the last day of the new release blitz tour and I just made it! This is book four of the series and I would recommend reading the first three books in order to enjoy this book to the fullest. Then again, I tend to read in series order anyway because I don’t want to miss anything.

Note that I will discuss things known from the first three books in this review. If you don’t want any potential spoilers, go read the rest of the series first before finishing this review. Then go read Tangled Warriors! 😀

I’m a big fan of polyamorous relationships and ménages with three men are no exception. Up until now, we’ve had a Weaver and their soul mate join up in the fight against the pestilents trying to take over Earth. Once the Circle completes with the six weavers: Earth, Animal, Soul, Fire, Water, and Air, they can permanently close the rift that allows the pestilents to the planet. The three grandmothers, goddesses in their own right, assist with the fight and give each Weaver their powers. We’ve met the Earth Warrior in the first book, the Animal Warrior in the second, and the Soul Warrior in the third. Now we see Fire and Water’s quest to find their mate together in this fourth installment.

I love that we have two Weavers who share their mate and each other. The story was very well done showing the angst that Lucien Cummings (Fire) and Calder Saito (Water) have from the moment they met roughly a month before we start the story. They are also the latest two Weavers to arrive at the plantation home everyone stays at with their mates. Seeing the others have a mate for each individual Weaver previously, it never occurs to them that the reason they are so at odds is because they are mates to each other and Gio Russo, a man they take to their bed when they meet, the connection between the three is so strong. Throw in a dash of humor, and you will be rolling around laughing at some of the antics these brothers-in-arms have with each other and their mates, while Gio, Lucien, and Calder find themselves and each other. It was great to see how they got to their happy ending with all three of them together in an unconventional union.

There is a bit a repetitiveness to catch you up on the back story if you end up starting the series with this book. You can read out of order because of this, but I would recommend reading in order to get the full history of the characters, the goddesses, and the lives of the Weavers Circle.

They rescue the Air Weaver, along with a little help from Gio’s family, and we get hints of who might be paired with him for the next book. I can’t wait to see the Air Warrior get his powers and happy ending.

Overall, I give it a 5 out 5 stars. I thoroughly enjoyed.

-Eloreen

Purchase at Amazon


Meet the Author

Jocelynn Drake and Rinda Elliott have teamed up to combine their evil genius to create intense gay romantic suspense stories that have car chases, shoot outs, explosions, scorching hot love scenes, and tender, tear-jerking moments. Their first joint books are in the Unbreakable Bonds series.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | eMail

Giveaway

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#NewRelease #Blitz: Kline Agency Series Collection by Ana Raine #Contemporary #MM #Menage #Romance #LGBTQ #Gay #multiplepartners

Title: Kline Agency

Series: Kline Agency #5

Author: Ana Raine

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: June 18, 2021

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male, Male/Male Menage

Length: 248

Genre: Romance, Contemporary Romance, Gay, Action Adventure, Multiple Partners

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Synopsis

Manhattan — urban center of metropolitan New York. Home of the Kline Agency, where a young man can earn his fortune — or find his love. Chilled Champagne: Micah’s job as an escort is to be whatever his client wants him to be. But Daniel won’t stop exploring until he knows all Micah’s dangerous secrets. Levi: Levi is content in his life as an escort at the Kline Agency — until he meets a new client, Wesley. Can Levi and Wesley escape their haunted pasts and learn to love — and trust — again? Avery: Avery expects to work as an escort at the Kline Agency long enough to help fund his younger brother’s college tuition. A chance meeting with an artist changes everything. But Milo loses his sponsor, he can no longer afford Avery’s services, and Avery is forced to choose between a relationship with Milo or the rich clients of the Kline Agency. Next To You: Twins Alexei and Vasily fulfilling fantasies for customers of the Kline Escort Agency. Kane was once Vasily’s lover, though Vasily doesn’t remember, due to a head injury sustained at the hands of the vicious Noch gang. As his memories slowly return, Vasily becomes determined to end their debt to the Noch Gang — a decision that may cost them all more than they’re willing to pay.

Excerpt

Copyright ©2021 Ana RaineExcerpt from Chilled Champagne Lance was staring at Micah, his toned arms crossed over broad pectorals. At forty-one, he was still handsome and built. Everyone around the Kline Agency knew he was called Loose because he used to put out for his clients. All of that had changed when he’d met the man who was now his lover. Micah didn’t often hang out at the Kline Agency offices like some of the others did. “How did it go?” Lance wrapped his arm around Micah’s still chilled shoulders and led him back to his office. “Did Mr. Patrick have a complaint?” Micah asked hesitantly. “Why would you say that?” Lance laughed, his eyebrows shooting upward. “I wouldn’t put out,” Micah replied. He’d said this so often he barely blushed anymore. Lance didn’t seem surprised. “I figured as much. All the same, he wants to know when he can see you again.” “He called back already?” “Yes. A few minutes ago.” Micah felt his stomach doing a tug of war. He felt flattered he’d made such an impression, but at the same time, he wasn’t going to change his mind. Painfully, his cock kept captive in his pants reminded him how turned on he was. Flushed, he gathered his thoughts before speaking. “What does my schedule look like this week?” “You’re open for tomorrow.” Lance glanced at his computer, clicking his mouse. “Then you have an appointment with a Mr. Hart.” Micah was surprised. “I don’t remember Mr. Hart.” “He’s new. Requested the most beautiful escort we have.” Micah covered his laugh with a cough. “Didn’t he bother looking at the website?” “Sounded like he decided to get an escort last minute,” Lance said, clicking some more. “He didn’t want to take the time to look through pictures.” One thing Micah loved about The Kline Agency was that while most escort services posted full body shots and bios on their websites, Kline posted only profile shots, no faces. Potential clients had to register first. Full-face pictures only went out to email after Lance ran a background check. Micah couldn’t hide if his picture was blasted all over a high volume website. Lance sighed. “Get some sleep.” “Yeah, I’m tired.” Micah unclasped the hair clip. “Is Candace back yet?” “She’s with her favorite client. But she said you could keep the clip. Something about how that color looks better in dark hair than red.” Micah nodded, replacing the clip before grabbing his bag. He would change when he got home. Candace’s hair clip stuck to the side of his head, pressed tightly because he’d worn a knit cap. His gloves had a hole in the right index finger, reminding him he had to buy a new pair before winter came and New York got seriously cold. The Kline Agency office was in a good part of the city. The streetlights were always working at every corner, and the cars lined up were clean without a scratch. His studio was nice enough, considering how quickly he’d had to move and the funds he’d had available at the time. Unlocking the door, he kicked aside a pile of mail. He recognized letters from his mom, and his ex… they only brought back the terrible decisions he’d made. Kisaki, a kitten he’d rescued, was waiting, rubbing his head affectionately against Micah’s leg. “Hey baby,” Micah cooed, dropping his bag on the table. “Hungry?” He held Kisaki with one hand while sifting through his cupboard for a fresh can of cat food. “I’m hungry too.” The scent of wet food had barely hit Micah’s nostrils when he heard his phone buzzing from his bag. “Hello?” There was a pause before a familiar voice made Micah cringe. “Don’t hang up this time.” There was no way Micah was staying on the line. Breathing heavily, Micah slid to the floor, pressing the end button before resting on his side, one hand on Kisaki’s back as he lapped up his food. He’d have to get his number changed. Again. The warm fur beneath his hand and then against his chest made Micah’s throat tighten. He was too tired to stay awake. And he definitely didn’t want to deal with the phone call. His ex was supposed to stay in his past. If he found him now, after four years, Micah was sure his strong resolve would crumble. And what was worse was that Micah didn’t think he’d get so lucky in his next attempt to run away.

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Meet the Author

Ana is still figuring out what she wants to do with her life, although social work seems to be the most likely. Her best friends are a box of chocolate and her kitten who always sit beside her while she writes. When Ana was in high school, she often wrote about the LGBT community, but now her work is less…innocent. Ana enjoys writing anything and everything, including BDSM, dragons, shifters, magic, and more.

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#Blitz: The Couple Next Door by @rickrreed #NewRelease #Contemporary #Romance #LGBTQIA+

Title: The Couple Next Door

Author: Rick R. Reed

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: September 14, 2020

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 66500

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, MM romance, author, multiple personality disorder, brothers, murder

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Synopsis

Jeremy Booth leads a simple life, scraping by in the gay neighborhood of Seattle, never letting his lack of material things get him down. But the one thing he really wants—someone to love—seems elusive. Until the couple next door moves in and Jeremy sees the man of his dreams, Shane McCallister, pushed down the stairs by a brute named Cole.

Jeremy would never go after another man’s boyfriend, so he reaches out to Shane in friendship while suppressing his feelings of attraction. But the feeling of something being off only begins with Cole being a hard-fisted bully—it ends with him seeming to be different people at different times. Some days, Cole is the mild-mannered John and then, one night in a bar, he’s the sassy and vivacious drag queen Vera.

So how can Jeremy rescue the man of his dreams from a situation that seems to get crazier and more dangerous by the day? By getting close to the couple next door, Jeremy not only puts a potential love in jeopardy, but eventually his very life.

Excerpt

The Couple Next Door
Rick R. Reed © 2020
All Rights Reserved

How many disappointing dates will I endure before I just give up?

I mean, here I am, a perfectly attractive, fit, self-sufficient thirty-year-old, and I’m still waiting to meet the man of my dreams. Mr. Right. Hell, tonight I’d even settle for that character who seems to come along on dates for most of us, the all-too-common Mr. Right Now. But even he isn’t on the seat beside me. In fact, I strongly doubt he’s anywhere in the vicinity of the Capitol Hill neighborhood of Seattle where I live.

Believe me, I’ve looked.

Mr. First Date pulls his Ford Fusion up to the curb in front of my apartment building on Aloha Avenue. We sit in awkward silence for several long moments, listening as the engine ticks down as it cools. I can feel him looking at me. As he’s done most of the evening, he waits for me to speak. I turn my head and, in the dark, give him a weak smile. The date, dinner at a little sushi place on Broadway, had not gone well, full of uncomfortable silences, awkward pauses, and desperate looks around for avenues of escape—on both our parts.

Do I need to say we just didn’t click?

I didn’t think so.

So what he says now surprises me.

“Do you want me to come up?”

Really? We’ve just spent an hour and a half of agony together, trying to find a snippet of common ground that doesn’t exist, and he’s wondering if I want him to come up, which we all know is code for “Shall we make the beast with two backs?”

Seriously? The most irksome thing is, I’m considering it. I mean, he’s cute in spite of our lack of social connection. He’s a games developer for a software company here in town and looks it, with a sort of hipster/geek vibe going on. He has red hair, which I love. He has a beard, which I love. He wears retro glasses, which make him look paradoxically goofy and sexy—which I love.

Would it be so terrible to sleep with him? I mean, it’s been at least two weeks since I’ve enjoyed the charms of anyone other than Mr. Thumb and his four sons, so at least in terms of a release, maybe I should just say “Sure” and open the car door. If things go like some of my dates in the past, he’d follow me upstairs to my apartment and be back in his car in, like, fifteen minutes.

No, I tell myself. And then I tell him, shaking my head, looking sad, and saying the words countless heartbreakers have used over the years to stop ardent passion in its errant tracks.

“I’m sorry, Neil. But I have to get up early.” Lamely, I pat his hand. “Maybe another time.”

I don’t need to be psychic to know that we both know another time ain’t gonna happen.

Neil seems relieved as he restarts his car. He shrugs. “It’s okay. Club Z’s just a couple minutes away, right? Down Broadway and a right on Pike—easy.”

He grins at me, and I wonder if he expects me to laugh. Club Z is one of Seattle’s filthiest bathhouses, and yes, it’s only a few minutes away. He doesn’t seem to need directions.

It’s my turn to be relieved that I didn’t actually succumb to the temptation of inviting this jerk upstairs. Wordlessly, I get out of the car and slam the door behind me.

Neil roars off into the damp and still night.

I pause and sigh, staring up at the building in which I’ve lived for the past five years. It’s an okay place, an old redbrick three story with none of the modern amenities—no stainless steel, granite countertops, or gas fireplaces. My apartment is homey. It even has the original tile, sink, and claw-foot tub in its single bathroom. The living room is large, with three big windows that look out on Aloha and let in lots of light—on the days when we have sun in Seattle (that means usually summer days). The floors are scuffed original hardwood. The kitchen actually has a pantry and built-in china hutch. I’ve painted the place a cheery, soft yellow.

Upstairs, the TV, with its DVRed episodes of at-odds Sons of Anarchy and Downton Abbey, awaits. Upstairs, there’s the gelato I love from Whole Foods in the freezer—hazelnut dark chocolate.

Such is my life. Comfortable and a little lonely.

Sometimes I wonder, like Peggy Lee, if that’s all there is.

I head toward the glass-paned front door. I grope in my jeans for my keys. The mail had not yet arrived before I left for my date, and I wonder if there will be any surprises in the vestibule mailbox. You know, like an actual letter from someone, standing out from the usual assortment of bills and solicitations by the cursive spelling out of my name—Jeremy Booth.

My problem is I always have hope, even when there’s little reason.

I open the front door, and that’s when everything changes. My life turns upside down. I go from bored discontent to panic in a split second.

The first thing I hear is someone shouting “No!” in an anguished voice. I look up from the lobby to see two figures on the staircase above, on the second-floor landing. One is a guy who looks menacing and so butch he could pose for a Tom of Finland poster. An aura of danger radiates from him. Aside from his imposing and muscular frame, he’s even wearing the right clothes—tight, rolled jeans and a black leather biker jacket with a chain snaking out from beneath one of the epaulets. His high- and tight-buzzed hair gives him a military—and mean—air. He has his hands on the shoulders of a guy who looks a bit younger and much slighter, making me want to call up the stairs, “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” The smaller guy, blond and clad only in a pair of pajama bottoms, struggles with his attacker, looking terrified. Their movements, clumsy and rough, would be comical if they weren’t so scary. The smaller guy is panting and batting ineffectually at the bigger one.

“Please! No! Don’t!” the smaller guy manages to get out, his voice close to hysteria.

I have never seen either of these men before. In fact, the whole scene has the quality of the surreal, a dream. The danger and conflict pulsing down the stairs makes my own heart rate and respiration accelerate, causing feelings of panic to rise within me.

And then the worst happens. The big butch guy shoves the smaller one hard, and all at once he’s tumbling heavily down the stairs toward me.

The fall is graceless, and it looks like it hurts. It’s over so fast that I’m left gasping.

I look up to see the leather-jacket guy sneer down at his mate, lying crumpled and crying at my feet, and then turn sharply on his heel to go back into a second-floor apartment that had been vacant yesterday. He slams the door. The sound of the deadbolt sliding into place is like the report of a shotgun. Both slam and lock resound like thunderclaps, echoing in the tile lobby, punctuation to the drama and trauma of this short scene.

I switch into Good Samaritan mode and drop to my knees at the sniveling, crumpled mess of a man lying practically at my feet.

“Are you okay?” I ask and reach out to lightly touch his shoulder.

He jerks away and, wincing, pulls himself up into an awkward sitting position. He stares at me with clear blue eyes for a moment, almost as though he’s trying to place me. He finally looks away.

“My ankle is throbbing. It hurts like hell. Maybe I twisted it.”

I don’t know what to say, other than to ask, “Would you like to try and stand? Test it out?”

He nods.

I lean over to grip him under the arms—it’s damp there, and I can smell the ripe aroma of body odor, probably inspired by fear or panic—and pull. He comes up with me and then stumbles, wincing and crying out.

“Damn. I might have sprained it when I fell.” His eyes are so appealing, in both senses of the word, as he stares at me, as though seeking direction for what to do next. He leans on me, taking his weight off the injured ankle.

I keep my arm around him, and together we limp over to a bench set beneath the bank of common mailboxes. We sit.

“What do you want to do?” I ask.

“I don’t know. I think Cole may have locked me out for the night.”

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Meet the Author

Real Men. True Love.

Rick R. Reed is an award-winning and bestselling author of more than fifty works of published fiction. He is a Lambda Literary Award finalist. Entertainment Weekly has described his work as “heartrending and sensitive.” Lambda Literary has called him: “A writer that doesn’t disappoint…” Find him at www.rickrreedreality.blogspot.com. Rick lives in Palm Springs, CA, with his husband, Bruce, and their fierce Chihuahua/Shiba Inu mix, Kodi.

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