Cover - King John - Large 600 x 899 JPG

Title: King John

Author: Edmond Manning

Series: The Lost and Founds, #4

Genre: Contemporary

Publisher: Pickwick Ink Publishing

Pages: 245

Release Date: September 10, 2015



English attorney Alistair Robertson can’t quite believe an astonishing tale of kingship and transformation he hears at Burning Man, the annual counter-culture art festival in the Black Rock desert. Who are the Found Kings? Is “being kinged” as magical as it sounds?
Determined to find the mysterious garage mechanic named Vin who helps men “remember who they were always meant to be,” Alistair catches his quarry amid the extravagant sculptures, fire worshipers, mutant cars, and lavish costumes. After searching for three years, he’ll finally get to ask the question burning inside him: “Will you king me?”

Wandering together through the desert, Vin Vanbly and Alistair explore Burning Man’s gifting culture and exotic traditions, where they meet the best and worst of their fellow burners. Alistair’s overconfidence in Vin’s manipulative power collides with Vin’s obsessive need to save a sixteen-year-old runaway from a nightmarish fate, and the two men spiral into uncontrollable, explosive directions.

In this fourth adventure of The Lost and Founds, beneath the sweltering summer sun and the six billion midnight stars, one truth emerges, searing itself on their hearts: in the desert, everything burns.


Guest Post:

The Masculine Archetypes

In a few different guest posts on my King John blog tour, I’ve casually mentioned the four masculine archetypes: lover, warrior, magician, and king. But as a friend recently pointed out, I haven’t really explained them in any detail and never fully described the power they offer the common man.


Why haven’t I done that?

Allow me to rectify.

Before getting too specific, I wish to point out that the feminine archetypes are just as powerful and nuanced as their male counterparts: lover, amazon, crone, and queen. I’m not as familiar with their unique gifts, though I do understand that sometimes the feminine archetypes apply to me more than the masculine archetypes and vice versa. Face it—humanity is a big ol’ mix of sloppy gendery goodness, which means you take whatever meaning applies to you and skip worrying whether that makes you more masculine, more feminine, or whatever. When you explore the archetypes within yourself, and seek deeper understanding, it makes you more human.

These archetypes are nothing I invented. They are not recent constructs of modern psychology.

In fact, these models are present in all our stories, from Melrose Place to A Tale of Two Cities, from Shakespeare to Jesus to Greek myth to stories so ancient they are scratched into cave walls. These are the stories of power—personal power, shared power, community power—these are the stories of how we come to identify as human. As men. As women.

Although I have researched these archetypes for years, and today I pull together my thoughts from any number of diverse sources, one source I must mention (for fear of coming across smarter than I am) is an excellent piece of non-fiction titled King, Warrior, Magician, Lover: Rediscovering the Archetypes of the Mature Masculine. I don’t need to describe the book’s contents, do I? Didn’t think so. The two authors accumulated and articulated much of what we know about the archetypes and their role in history. If this topic interests you, you’ll find this book fascinating.

Let’s jump in, shall we?

The Golden Lover

Everyone wants to believe this is the kissy-face lover, the one who holds hands on beaches and delights in wrapping Christmas presents. Uh, sure. That’s one facet of the lover. But there’s so much more. The lover is how we face ourselves. Do you face yourself with compassion? Can you forgive yourself? Attributes of the Golden Lover are openness, vulnerability, ability to grieve, and welcoming new light. In fact, you might say the lover welcomes the dawn. Knowing the pain each day might bring in the world, the Golden Lover faces the East and says, “Yes.”

In some ways, this is the hardest archetype for men. Men think they’re already displaying lover qualities because they love their favorite football team and they laughed hard at Mall Cop II. After all, how can someone whose heart is shut down laugh that openly and hard?

Sorry, menfolk.

The Golden Lover shows mercy when hard justice is deserved. The lover shows vulnerability when furious, not only when it’s convenient. When faced with the death of a child, the lover weeps hard and admits, “I am destroyed. I am destroyed.” If men close off their Golden Lover, they are likely to embrace the negative counterpoint to this archetype…

The Shadow Lover

Either overly-weepy or stone-faced and unable to cry, the Shadow Lover spends his time mystified by the strong emotions others feel. “Sorry about your dog’s death, but what’s the big deal? It’s just a dog.” The Shadow Lover might smile and be friendly to your face. And that’s genuine. But in his heart of hearts, the Shadow Lover doesn’t get the big deal about all these feelings. He’s fine without them, thank you.

In King Mai, a secondary character named Chris typifies the Shadow Lover. When circumstance demands he tell a “sad story,” he refuses. He says, “I won’t. I can’t.” Truly, he can’t. When shamed by his friends who bully him (Shadow Warriors hard at work!), he finally confesses that at the age of nineteen he was responsible for “putting down” his childhood dog at the end of the dog’s life. Chris immediately walks away to go cry in the men’s room.

Shadow Lovers aren’t without emotion. In fact, denying the Golden Lover has created a dam within them that will explode in potentially unhealthy ways unless someone figures out how to touch the sacredness of their Golden Lover. They are often desperate to be found and freed from this self-created prison—and they would never, ever admit that. Admitting it would be weak.

The Golden Warrior

Men love this archetype because they think it means they get to hold a sword and cut things. And, well, that’s true—metaphorically at least. But the Golden Warrior doesn’t swing wildly, and he takes no pleasure in the slicing and dicing. The Golden Warrior serves a bigger mission. He serves integrity. He serves vision. He will do what it takes to serve the king’s mission (the Golden King) and if that means using his sword, so be it.

You might recognize a Golden Warrior in real life: a man who keeps his word. A boss who—when delivering difficult feedback—is honest and specific, makes eye contact, and does not apologize for what he must say. He must say it.

The Golden Warrior looks out for others. He serves as a protector, and very often the person needing protecting is himself. Golden Warriors can say, “No. This is not healthy for me. I’m out.” He has to say that—he knows it’s the only way to keep his sword clean.

The Shadow Warrior

Prepare to be ripped a new one.

The Shadow Warrior fights blindly, slashing his mighty sword (i.e., words) in every direction. If you give him constructive feedback, he will cut out your eyes—not because what you said was untrue or unkind, but because you hurt him, and every hurt is an attack, so he attacks back. The Shadow Warrior serves himself, because there are no kings worth following. Do you have a Facebook friend who is nothing but critical of everything in the world? The Shadow Warrior thinks he could run the world better than it’s being run now, but will never try because… fuck you, that’s why. The Shadow Warrior doesn’t want to make things better. He wants to attack from the shadows.

A Shadow Warrior often protects a wounded lover. Protects—but more likely, overprotects. Bullies are often Shadow Warriors, terrified of the gushing pain their wounded lover feels, bleeding over everything. To convince themselves this is normal, they try to make others bleed, too.

Honestly, I think of Donald Trump as a Shadow Warrior. He swings his sword wildly in every direction. In his own eyes, every woman wants him, every detractor is wrong and misinformed. Everyone’s vision is clouded but his own. Trump will slash his way to the throne, and will undoubtedly have a stinging, insulting speech ready for “you stupid Americans” when we don’t elect him president. Shadow Warriors with real power in the world can be quite dangerous. Don’t underestimate the damage they can do.

The Golden Magician

In college, I had a Shakespeare professor who regularly corralled two dozen bored English majors and tricked us into debating words, concepts, and intentions in every possible character and setting. When class was over, we bitterly complained that we didn’t have enough time. In the classroom, he was a Golden Magician. He asked questions. He related the plots to our lives, and each character’s sorrow to our own deep sorrows. He tricked us into deeply relating to Iago, Katherina (the shrew), and those crazy teens from A Midsummer Night’s Dream. We would leave class scratching our heads saying, “How did he do that to us? Again?”

The Golden Magician uses all kinds of tricks to better love you. He lies when necessary, but he’s more skilled at showing the truth—the beautiful truth of yourself—at the moment when you’re most likely to believe it. He uses stories, a quiet voice, a hand on your shoulder. He screams. He points at some random tree and says, “That tree reminds me of you. Look at it. What do you see?” He’s not above bonking you on the head to wake you up. The Golden Magician is laughter and light, and then you look down and realize you’ve been giggling your way over hot coals. The Golden Magician believes in the greatness of you and is determined for you to see it as he does.

Vin Vanbly. ’Nuff said.

The Shadow Magician

That same Shakespeare professor was one of the meanest people I’ve ever encountered. On one of my research papers he awarded me a B+ and wrote, “Honestly, if I didn’t know you from class, I would assume English was your second language because you’re so poor at written communication. Doesn’t that bother you? Aren’t you ashamed of that?”

Yes, I was ashamed. I’d never been so humiliated. I wasn’t the only one who shed tears over his utterly devastating feedback.

The Shadow Magician understands your weaknesses, and he has no problem exploiting them. Honestly, this archetype terrifies me. It whispers softly in your ear, mixing truth with lies, and cooing, “I’m only saying this for your own good. You know that, right?”

No, it’s not for your own good. The terror of the Shadow Magician is that he’s not acting in your best interests, but it feels like he is. The Shadow Magician loves exerting his power and whether that’s for good or evil, it makes little difference to him. Bullies yell and berate. Shadow Magicians say to a woman who was just raped, “What were you wearing? Did you bring it on yourself?” Fuck you, Shadow Magician. Fuck you.

I remember fighting with a friend—years ago—and I was worked up into a boiling rage over some wrong he had done me. He got very sad in his eyes and said, “I can’t fight with you, Edmond. You always win. You’re better with words than me.” His openness and vulnerability made me realize I was being a complete dick. My Shadow Magician wanted to win the argument. The better side of me stopped fighting immediately, because I wanted his friendship more than I wanted to win. His vulnerable Golden Lover defeated my Shadow Magician. We talked quietly and worked things out.

The Golden King

I’ve written four books about the Golden King, so I’m not sure what to add. The Golden King values his community—whoever they are. He loves them. He wants to protect them. He does so by serving them. He is one of them, yet he is not one of them, and he feels this burden and connection. The greatest assets the Golden King bestows upon others are blessing and inclusion. Come in. You belong here.

In King John, toward the end, the title character is almost ready to cross over into his greatness—he’s ready to become a king. How do we know? He can’t help but bless those Burning Man attendees gathered before him. Consider this short speech of his. (Context: those listening to his speech have been asked to raise their hands if they feel empathy for what he says, or if it also rings true for them.)

“I come here, and I see all the amazing, beautiful people, and it makes me sad. I’m not one of you. I’m not…I don’t belong. I’m not creative enough to make art. I’m not brave enough to wear elaborate costumes. Or go naked. When you’re boring and small, it hurts to know you’ll never be remembered.”

A large number of hands rise for this comment, more than half. More than three-quarters.

This makes John cry.

After a moment, he says, “No…no, it’s not true. You guys are…you guys are amazing. You’re so beautiful. I watch you. I’m envious. So big. So joyful and strong and…”

He puts his hands on the top of his head. Oh good. Classic sign of giving up. John is ready.

The Shadow King

The Shadow King likes to build kingdoms, too. It’s just… those kingdoms are not nice places to live. He “builds” by selectively including and excluding others, sometimes based on personal whim. He’s the guy who cuts down others from his position of power. He doesn’t bless, he curses. He gets Shadow Warriors to do his dirty work, often inspiring them by implying that their way of life is threatened, and they should “protect themselves.”

The Shadow King likes his power. He craves it. He wants more. Anyone else having power—even their own personal power—is a threat to his own. Think of an abusive father. He is king of his miserable household and uses his fists to act as his Shadow Warriors. While beating his own kid, he might say, “You shouldn’t make me do this,” a Shadowy Magician statement if ever there was one, potentially convincing a child he is complicit in deserving this abuse.

Shadow Kings aren’t necessarily that extreme. A Shadow King can write a one-star review on Goodreads and try to convince others how worthless the author is, probably as a human being. These reviews are just flat-out mean-spirited. There’s a difference between a well-constructed one-star review (some books really are just that awful) and someone who needs others to believe—BELIEVE—this author is a wreck. It’s not an opinion, it’s a fact, and the Shadow King wants everyone in his kingdom to witness and believe in this “fact.”

The Golden and Shadow in us all

It’s important to remember that these archetypes are not isolated, external qualities. Every man possesses golden and shadow qualities of the warrior, lover, magician, and king. He also possesses golden and shadow qualities of the amazon, lover, crone, and queen. Women are not exempt from this mess of qualities swirling around inside. We are all a giant swirl of all these archetypes, trying to separate our own gold from the shadow.

Recently, a Facebook friend posted a nasty two-sentence, friendship-ending rant against me. I was shocked. I was tagged in this post and saw the exact words in my email Inbox, but by the time I followed the link to Facebook, he had already removed the post.

We chatted via private message, and I asked him why he had written what he did.

He apologized. He was very sorry. His explanation (without using these words) was that his Shadow Warrior had taken over, and he’d swung his sword, hard. Soon after, he regretted what he had done and removed the post. (A Golden Lover—a mutual friend—had said to him, “Hey, what’s going on? Why are you doing this? Edmond is kind.” She’d helped bring him into the light.) He and I had a beautiful conversation, and it wasn’t hard to remember why I liked this friend.

We are all combinations of golden and shadow, trying our best to stay in the light. Some days are harder than others. Personally, I worry about people who deny their shadow archetypes. The people I trust are the ones like my Facebook friend who sometimes lets the shadow out and then says, “Oh, crap. What have I done?” He owned his shit, apologized, and we repaired any damage.

To know your archetypes and confront them—the best and worst in yourself—is to give yourself power, the power of being who you were always meant to be.

* * * * *

Author Photo - Comic StoreEDMOND MANNING has always been fascinated by fiction: how ordinary words could be sculpted into heartfelt emotions, how heartfelt emotions could leave an imprint inside you stronger than the real world. He is the author of King Perry, King Mai, The Butterfly King, Filthy Acquisitions, and contributor to the bear anthology, A Taste of Honey.

In addition to fiction, Edmond enjoys writing nonfiction. You can pick up a copy of his Indie-publishing-finalist-award winning book, I Probably Shouldn’t Have Done That. Feel free to contact him at or on Facebook under his name, Edmond Manning.

* * * * *


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Where to get your copy of King John:

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King John Blog Tour:

Mon, Sept 7                    My Fiction Nook

Mon, Sept 7                    AJ Rose Books             pre-release excerpt #1

Tues, Sept 8                   Thorny, Not Prickly      pre-release excerpt #2

Wed, Sept 9                   Love Out Loud             pre-release excerpt #3

Thurs, Sept 10                Edmond

Thurs, Sept 10                Facebook Release Party, 7p-9p Central, hosted by Bike Book Reviews

Fri, Sept 11                     Reviews by Amos Lassen

Sat, Sept 12                    Vanessa

Tues, Sept 15                 MM Good Book Reviews

Wed, Sept 16                 The Novel Approach

Thurs, Sept 17                Purple Rose Tea House

Fri, Sept 18                     Posy

Sat, Sept 19                    Zipper Rippers

Tues, Sept 22                 Joyfully Jay

Wed, Sept 23                 Boys In Our Books

Thurs, Sept 24                It’s About the Book

Fri, Sept 25                     Lou

Sat, Sept 26                    Love Bytes Reviews

Sun, Sept 27                   Sinfully Addicted to Male Romance

Mon, Sept 28                  Josephine

Tues, Sept 29                 Molly Lolly

Wed, Sept 30                 Coffee and Porn in the Morning

Wed, Sept 30                 Stumbling Over Chaos

Thurs, Oct 1                   The Blogger Girls Reviews

Sat, Oct 3                       Because Two Men Are Better Than One

Sun, Oct 4                       The Hat Party!

Fri, Oct 2                        Jessewave

Mon, Oct 5                     Prism Book Alliance

Tues, Oct 6                     Jaycee

Wed, Oct 7                     Hearts on Fire Book Reviews




GUEST POST: Texas Wedding by RJ Scott

Texas 7

The final book in the Texas series which started with The Heart of Texas is available 25 September.

In Texas Wedding there is a moment towards the end that will make sense if you read the book. However, I wanted you to see what five characters thought of the main couple Jack and Riley, and Sean decided to help by interviewing them.

Texas Wedding is only possible because SCOTUS supported same sex marriage. Thank you SCOTUS. Love is love.


Josh (Jack’s brother)

Josh paced one end of the room to the other, and it was a damn small room. At each turn he got a good look out of the large window to the Double D land beyond. Jack had done well here; taken the family land and made something of it. Even though he’d had to make a bargain with the devil to do it. Josh stopped at the window and looked out. People were gathered on the ground below, family and friends of Jack and Riley, all of whom had agreed to appear in this film.

“Ready?” Sean asked from behind him.

Josh turned to face him. “Can I have five minutes?”

Sean frowned but it cleared quickly. “I can interview Eden first.”

“Please.” Josh was suddenly determined. “I have something I need to do.”

He left the room, taking the stairs two at a time and heading straight outside to where everyone was sitting and chatting with coffee and cookies. Jack stood up as he got closer but it wasn’t Jack that Josh wanted to talk to.

“Riley, can we talk?”

Riley stood from his crouch where he’d been talking to Max. “Yeah. Everything okay?”

Josh gestured to the side. “Over here,” he said.

Riley followed him with a bemused expression on his face. Max trailed him for a while and then turned to head towards Robbie.

They ended up about twenty feet from the gathering and Josh stopped.

“I was just going to the interview and I realized I never said some shit I needed to say.”

Riley looked confused, “I’m listening.”

“I know we’ve talked before about what you did to Jack way back when, the blackmail, Beth, but I wanted to just say…” Josh stopped. He didn’t have the words. Instead he pulled Riley into a close hug. “Love you like a brother, Riley.”

And Riley hugged him with lots of back slapping. “Love you too, Josh.”

Then Josh stepped back. “Right,” he said, “let’s get this interview done.”


Read Josh’s story in The Heart Of Texas, and all the sequels!


Sometimes Riley and Jack have to be the ones to fight other people’s battles and stand up for what is right.

With the life changing prospect of a yes vote from SCOTUS on the issue of same sex marriage, Riley and Jack realise they have decisions to make. Add in some distressing family news and the very real possibility that old secrets may resurface, and this last book in the Texas series pulls together as many threads as the boys can manage to handle.

But through all the ups and the downs, children, family events, laughter, and tears, there is nothing as special as the forever love between these two men.

 Buy Links

The full book list:

Book 1 – The Heart of Texas

Book 2 – Texas Winter

Book 3 – Texas Heat

Book 4 – Texas Family

Book 5 – Texas Christmas

Book 6 – Texas Fall

Book 7 – Texas Wedding

About RJ

RJ ScottRJ Scott has been writing since age six, when she was made to stay in at lunchtime for an infraction involving cookies. She was told to write a story and two sides of paper about a trapped princess later, a lover of writing was born.

As an avid reader herself, she can be found reading anything from thrillers to sci-fi to horror. However, her first real true love will always be the world of romance where she takes cowboys, bodyguards, firemen and billionaires (to name a few) and writes dramatic and romantic stories of love and passion between these men.

With over seventy titles to her name and counting, she is the author of the award winning book, The Christmas Throwaway. She is also known for the Texas series charting the lives of Riley and Jack, and the Sanctuary series following the work of the Sanctuary Foundation and the people it protects.





Unbreak Broken

by J.K. Hogan

Series: Coming About

Book #3 (True series: Should be read in order)


Rory Donovan’s life is a hot mess. His marriage is failing and he’s in intensive psychotherapy, working through the unfortunate side effects of memories from a childhood trauma. The only thing good in his life right now is his job—teaching photography to gifted high school students.

Harbor Patrol officer Bennett Foster is co-parenting his teenage daughter with his high school best friend Jessie. When he meets Addison’s teacher and realizes they’ve met before, he can’t get the sexy stranger out of his head.

Striking up a sexual-tension-filled friendship, together they must help an angsty teenager deal with a dying friend. Bennett must keep his little family from falling apart while Rory struggles to come to terms with his new reality. Somewhere along the way, most unexpectedly…love happens.


Dr. Conlan treated me to a rare fond smile, almost motherly in its warmth. “I’m pleased to see you happier than you have been.”

I grinned back, but then my brow furrowed. “Does this make me gay?”

“Does that matter?”

“I don’t know. Should it?”

“I’ll never understand the fascination with labeling things that our society seems to have. To me, sexuality is as intangible as the universe. There’s no way to truly know what’s out there, and how it all relates to everything else.

“As humans, we seek to know, to understand, and somehow we feel that putting things in boxes and labeling helps us do that. But some things are fluid, changing and developing with the tide of the evolution of life. Do me a favor, Rory. Don’t put yourself in a box.”

I was dumbfounded, stunned speechless. I knew I’d remember Dr. Conlan’s words for the rest of my life, and I would try to stay as true to them as I could. “I won’t,” I whispered.



Today I’m very lucky to be interviewing J.K. Hogan, author of Unbreak Broken.

Hi J.K, thank you for agreeing to this interview. Tell us a little about yourself, your background, and your current book.

Hey, there! IRL I’m a pretty normal gal, wife and mother and fur-mommy. I stay at home with my son and alternate between writing and graphic design. I’m also currently carrying my second son. 

I started out writing m/f paranormal romance—I have a series of three books if anyone is so inclined—but I started writing exclusively m/m in the last couple of years. I just have more fun doing it.

My new release, Unbreak Broken, is (probably) the conclusion to my Coming About series. It features Rory, everybody’s favorite cuddly straight guy, who ends up being not-so-straight, but not without a lot of heartache and…well, therapy. He gets paired with a sexy cop with a teenage daughter, and much drama ensues. Hope you enjoy!

  • What is your least favorite part of the publishing/writing process?

Well, normally I would say editing, because I’m a big baby about slicing up my “masterpiece,” not that I’ve really had to do much slicing. But the most dreaded part for me I think is blurb, synopsis writing. Imagine pouring your blood, sweat, and tears into hundreds of pages of genius(ha!), and then being asked to condense it down to a few pages or even paragraphs—but make it good enough for a reader to want to buy it or a publisher to want to sell it… What? Inconceivable!

  • As an author, is there one subject you would never write about? What would it be?

Hmm… that’s a tough one, because almost anything can be introduced in the right context, and you can argue that bringing it into the story in the right way could raise awareness. I don’t think I could ever write on-page rape, though I have one character in my m/f series who talks about how she was raped in the past. However, I think I can definitively say that I wouldn’t ever write incest (even twincest that is so popular), because it just personally creeps me out – not sexy at all IMO.

  • When did you first realize you wanted to write?

I always liked making up stories and writing down a “cast of characters” for my dolls and other toys… LOL. But it wasn’t until I was in my early 2o’s that I started writing things in the hopes that I might publish something someday.

  • How long did it take to write your book?

I did the first 50k of Unbreak Broken for NaNoWriMo, and I made it, so that took a month… But since it almost doubled in length from that, I had a lot more to go. I’d say it was another couple of months before I finished – and that’s insanely fast for me. I’m not one of those people that writes a book every three years or so, but it usually takes me a solid few months to finish one.

  • For Fun: Where is one place you’d like to visit you haven’t been before?

Even though I’m not a very beachy person, I’ve always wanted to go to Bora Bora and stay in one of those grass huts on stilts out in the middle of the water.

If not that, then I’d say Ireland, the land of my people. LOL


Buy Links

Amazon      All Romance



Rafflecopter Prize: E-book copy of ‘Unbreak Broken’

Click here or on the image to enter the Rafflecopter

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About the Author

J.K. Hogan has been telling stories for as long as she can remember, beginning with writing cast lists and storylines for her toys growing up. When she finally decided to put pen to paper, magic happened. She is greatly inspired by all kinds of music and often creates a “soundtrack” for her stories as she writes them. J.K. is hoping to one day have a little something for everyone, so she’s branched out from m/f paranormal romance and added m/m contemporary romance. Who knows what’s next?

J.K. resides in North Carolina, where she was born and raised. A true southern girl at heart, she lives in the country with her husband and young son, a cat, and two champion agility dogs. If she isn’t on the agility field, J.K. can often be found chasing waterfalls in the mountains with her husband, or down in front at a blues concert. In addition to writing, she enjoys training and competing in dog sports, spending time with her large southern family, camping, boating and, of course, reading! For more information, please visit

Where to find J.K. Hogan:

Facebook Author Page:







Tour Dates & Stops:

Banner300x25016-Sep Prism Book Alliance, Molly Lolly

17-Sep BFD Book Blog, Bayou Book Junkie

18-Sep Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews

21-Sep Two Chicks Obsessed With Books and Eye Candy, Love Bytes

22-Sep Divine Magazine, Andrew Q. Gordon

23-Sep Jessie G. Books, Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words

24-Sep Lee Brazil, Because Two Men Are Better Than One

25-Sep Bike Book Reviews

28-Sep Dawn’s Reading Nook

29-Sep LeAnn’s Book Reviews, Prism Book Alliance

30-Sep Vampires, Werewolves, and Fairies, Oh My, Happily Ever Chapter

1-Oct  Foxylutely Book Reviews, Just Love Romance

2-Oct Three Books Over the Rainbow, My Fiction Nook

5-Oct Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents, Inked Rainbow Reads

6-Oct Amanda C. Stone, MM Good Book Reviews







Off-World-Full-Front-CoverTitle: Off World

Author: Jonah Bergan

Publisher: Booktrope Publishing

Cover Artist: Michelle Fairbanks

Length: 240 Pages

Release Date: August 22, 2015

Blurb: What really brought Taine to that backwater little world? Taine’s a hunter. He’s a red-skinned, black-eyed Lowman by nature, and a hunter by trade. Some hunters work in flesh, others in secrets, and some few work to set right what’s been set wrong. It’s a big galaxy and there’s always plenty of work for a hunter like Taine, so you got to wonder, what with all that at his feet, what really brought Taine to that backwater little world?

Off-World is a M/M science fiction action/adventure set in F/M dominated space. The story takes place in an arm of the galaxy where slavery (sexual and otherwise) is legal and commonplace. Strictly speaking, it is not a BDSM novel in that consent is not a matter of concern for the characters, but those with an interest in BDSM should enjoy the story. Due to explicit content, Off-World is not recommended to readers under eighteen years of age.


From Chapter Fourteen: Left in the Dust

Set-up: Taine has left the boys by the side of the road. He rode off to retrieve something he’d left behind at their last camp. Tanner has been uncomfortable with the way things were among them, so he takes this opportunity to set things right.

The man was gone, nothing left behind but the dust of his passage, so Tanner tugged on Sunshine’s leash, bringing the slave a step closer to him. “Time for us to set some things right,” Tanner said. “I don’t want no trouble from you, cause I’m not one for beatings, but if you make me, you’ll wish you hadn’t.”

Tanner set about untying the knots at Sunshine’s wrists, and Sunshine lowered his head. “Now quit that,” Tanner said, working at the knot. “I heard what you said before, about liking your leash, though only the Goddess knows what you like about it.”

“It makes me feel safe,” Sunshine said, his voice so low it was almost a whisper.

Tanner stopped working the knot and glared at Sunshine. “How the fuck does it make you feel safe?” he snapped. The boy cringed, but answered up quickly.

“Nobody can snatch me away,” he said in that same sad, soft voice.

Tanner shrugged, and resumed working at the knots. Given what had happened with Harlan and Johnny showing up to haul the flit back, that made some sense. “Don’t worry,” he said while he worked. “I’ll have you leashed up again in no time, but I’ll do it proper. I seen enough of slavers and their ways to know this here leash is for traveling. We ain’t traveling, so I’ll fix you up.”

The rope fell away, and Tanner let it fall to the ground. He stepped around, hefting his pack and had Sunshine slip his arms through the straps. He reached around the boy from the front, and pulled the thongs loosely around Sunshine’s chest and adjusted the clasps. He made sure the pack was properly secured—good and snug, so’s-not to slide and rub, as the horsemen say.

“There now,” Tanner said, patting the boy’s chest. “That’s more like it. Now we’ll just get that leash put right, and we can get to work.”

Tanner ran the rope around Sunshine’s neck, and knotted it so it wouldn’t slip and choke the boy. “This here’s a good leash for working,” Tanner said, testing that knot. “I seen men working their slaves in the orchards with leashes like this. Mostly, I expect, so they can carry, and haul, and so on.” He tested the knot again and nodded. He’d have rather been a horseman, he had a talent for it and a love of the beasts, but that profession was on the wane. No future in that, he remembered his mother saying. “Slaver is up-and-coming,” she’d said. “Given the witches and their ways, best we find you a place nearer the top of things, else you might land nearer the bottom.” She was right about that, of course.

The knot was good and sound, so Tanner set about wrapping and tying off the loose end. “Mother says there was a time when men didn’t enslave men,” he said as he worked, “but it’s been a fact for as long as I can remember. Now I guess them witches have a mind to change things, mostly since they don’t want men ownin’ nothin’ at all, but we’ll be off, and between the stars before all that comes to pass.”

Tanner took a step back and had a look at his handiwork. He nodded once, pleased with how Sunshine looked the part of a proper slave. He noted too, how by reference, with the boy all geared up correctly, it made him look and feel the part of a proper handler too. Now should anyone come along that road, witch or no witch, there’d be no question who was who, and what was what, in the camp they’d make.

“So,” Tanner said, “we’ll need kindling, and firewood, and I guess you know whose job it is to do all that, right?”


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Jonah Bergan is a freelance writer living in New England. His publishing credits include a ten part serial, multiple short stories, and a collection of anecdotal humor. He has also published MMORPG game reviews and content, hypnosis scripts, online user manuals, and advertising texts. Please visit to learn more about him.

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RELEASE DAY! Lost in the Fire by Draven St James

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Lost In The Fire

 by Draven St. James

#5 in the Firehouse Six series


Aaron Evans embodies every complication Wren Tucker knows he doesn’t need. The tempting go-go dancer refuses to leave him alone and his attempts to get into Wren’s bunker pants don’t stop at the club, even the walls of the Firehouse aren’t safe. Wren’s control is only so strong, and his desire for Aaron is turning into a clawing need that’s digging through the many reasons keeping Aaron at bay.

Aaron is two cold showers away from hypothermia if the hot fireman of his dreams won’t give in to the lust Aaron sees blazing in Wren’s eyes. The only issue is, Wren is a forever man, and Aaron doesn’t have that in him to give, not with so many secrets locked behind the glitter and gold of his beautiful world.

As Wren begins to cave to Aaron’s delicious demands, he gets a deeper view of the tarnished landscape Aaron exists in. A murky pit of drug addiction that’s slowly dragging Aaron under, and Wren is going to have to fight like hell to save Aaron from it, to even have a chance at a new beginning with the man who has brought him out of the shadows.


      “One of these days, Wren Tucker…” Aaron turned to his side, pillowing his head with his bent arm. His eyes slid closed, and he murmured, “I’m going to get to you.”

      You already do. Wren crouched beside the bed. The first time Wren had seen him, Aaron had been dancing. The light from the club had touched on every toned dip and groove of Aaron’s body as it swiveled on the raised stage, his tight ass shaking with the beat of the music. All of that had been amazing, but it had been Aaron’s face that had captivated him—the free expression, like he was in another world. His full lips mouthing the lyrics, his head thrown back, and the locks of his black hair waving around his flushed face.

In that moment of abandon, Aaron had met Wren’s gaze, a smile tugging at the corner of his sensual mouth. Aaron had continued the dance, but he hadn’t stopped focusing on Wren.


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Draven St. James is a born and raised Oregonian. She has traveled extensively in search of mischief and mayhem to fill her books.  Her ventures have been quite successful in inspiring a wealth of stories.  Of course at the end of the day, coffee within reach, laptop at the ready is where she finds her peace.

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RELEASE DAY! Shades of Power by Beany Sparks

Shades of Power

Shades of Power

by Beany Sparks

Arcane Magic book #1


An explosion sends Ethan running…straight into the arms of his mate.
Ethan White is a witch whose days are spent in his apothecary with his familiar, Beema. While making potions for the townsfolk keeps him busy, nothing exciting ever happens—until one day when a surprise visitor walks in and his world crumbles around him. Suddenly Ethan and his familiar are on the run, heading for the Fae to seek sanctuary.
Grayson is an alpha wolf. His two best friends are his betas, but there’s one thing missing—a pack. It’s for that very reason that the three of them were volunteered by the council to act as representatives. Their mission? Try to convince the Fae Queen to get the Fae involved in a battle with the Midnight Coven, the witches suspected of using the dark arts. However, the mission takes a back seat when Grayson meets his mate for the first time.
With revelations and lies around every corner and a battle looming, they have to be ready to fight if they want to have a life together.
When a prophecy about the Shades of Power comes to light, both sides want the power for the battle against the other. The question is—who will unite them first?



“What are you doing here?” he asked, feeling proud his voice remained level.
“My, my, is that any way to speak to a customer, Ethan?”
“You are not a customer, nor will you be a customer. Tell me what you want and then get the hell out of my shop.”
Ethan had a second to regret his rudeness when she narrowed her eyes at him, but reminding himself that nothing good could come of her visit had him standing there with his head held high.
“I would watch how you speak to me, Ethan, since we both know who the stronger witch is.”
“Well, if you are the stronger witch, then there’s absolutely no reason why you would be in my shop. Make sure the door doesn’t hit you on the way out.”
Ethan watched as her eyes narrowed even further, to the point where he wasn’t sure she could even see him. All the while he waited for her reaction—or rather, the explosion that was likely coming.
Suddenly she blinked and then smiled, which was far scarier than anything Ethan could remember seeing before.
“You’re right, Ethan, I am the stronger witch, and as such, I have better things to do than waste my time making potions. So here I am, ready to purchase the potions I need and help my dear little brother make some money so that he can survive in this big, bad world we live in.”
Ethan almost sighed, wanting to forget about being related to the monster in front of him. No one had believed him when he had accused her of being evil. While everyone else had seen her as a gifted child, Ethan had seen the dark side of her early on. Deep down he’d known that she would turn to the dark arts, but everyone he’d told thought he’d just said that to get attention, even their parents. When they’d died, it had left a huge hole in his heart, but he’d finally been able to escape his sister by using some of his inheritance money to move towns and buy his cabin. Although, he couldn’t really call it escaping when on her way out one day she’d told him to pack his things and be gone when she returned. For the first time in his life, he’d obeyed her.
Snapping back to the present, Ethan tried to focus, knowing that if he didn’t, things could go badly.
“What do you want, Des?” he asked.
She frowned at him for a moment before speaking. “Actually, it’s Ravyn now, Ravyn Darkh. Maybe you’ve heard of me?”
Oh shit!


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About the Author

Beany lives in Western Australia. She first started reading romance novels in 2008, but it wasn’t until January 2010 when her Kindle got delivered that the world of erotic romance opened its doors to her, and she hasn’t looked back.
With suggestions and support from friends, her muse—“affectionately” known as PITA—was finally able to break free, and in January 2014 her first story was written. Since she can’t put PITA back in his box, Beany has decided to give in and team up with him. Together they’ve made plans to write both MF and MM stories.
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Where to find the author:
Twitter: @BeanySparks
Publisher: Rainbow Ninja Press
Cover Artist: Beany Sparks



GUEST POST: Into the Arena by Elizabeth Coldwell


Guest Post  – Into The Arena by Elizabeth Coldwell

Who hasn’t dreamed of being a movie star at some point? It has to be high on the list of fantasy jobs – the worldwide fame, the magazine covers, the multi-million dollar pay cheques, the film premieres, the Oscar night acceptance speeches… Of course, it helps to be as good looking as Bradley Cooper or Ryan Reynolds, but in fantasy land we can all be that hot and charming, right?

In reality, for most up and coming actors life isn’t that glamorous, and the red carpet can seem a long way out of reach. It’s often been pointed out that most of the hopefuls who arrive in Los Angeles hoping to become stars end up becoming waiters instead. The competition for any role is fierce, and the audition process can be frustrating and humiliating. You need to have an inner strength and self-belief if you don’t want to be ground down by rejection. If your face fits and you have the acting chops for a particular part, however, who knows how far you’ll be able to go?

That’s the position Hayden Skarz finds himself in at the beginning of Into The Arena. He’s already had a small amount of success, but when he’s given the script for Thrown To The Lions, he knows this is the film that will propel its male lead onto the Hollywood A-list. It’s the story of a man in a dystopian future society who is punished for his crimes by being sent back in time to fight as a gladiator in the arenas of ancient Rome. It also features some very steamy love scenes, although the openly gay Hayden feels he’ll be able to take those in his stride.

What Hayden doesn’t realise is that by landing the part he’ll embark on a journey that will propel him into the arms of the gorgeous Cesare Bianco, a man who’s hiding the secret that he’s really a lion shifter searching for his chosen mate. (Like all the books in the Lionhearts series, Into The Arena explores what happens when a shifter and a human fall in love.) And it’ll also make him a target of a stalker who’s convinced that he is the only man Hayden could ever need, and is prepared to do whatever it takes to make him see that…


“So what’ll it be?” the man asked again. He had the most amazing eyes Hayden had ever seen, almost gold in hue, and caramel-blond hair that fell to his shoulders in waves. And though he didn’t look like any of the dark-haired, dark-eyed Romans, he definitely had a strong Italian accent.

“What do you have?” Hayden asked. The choices had been chalked up on a board at the side of the hatch but he wanted to string out his conversation with this gorgeous guy.

“There’s lasagna al forno, Thai green chicken curry or baked stuffed peppers.”

“We’re in Italy, so it has to be the lasagna.”

He waited while the man put a generous portion on his plate then handed it to him.

“Salad is on the table to your right, and you’ll find cutlery and soft drinks there, too.”

“Thanks— I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” He was determined to make a point of getting to know as many of the crew by name as he could. It only seemed polite.

Otherwise you gain a reputation as the kind of asshole who thinks he’s above everybody.

“I’m Cesare, and that’s my boss, Gail.” The man gestured to the blonde who stood beside him, ladling curry onto a plate.

“Nice to meet you, Cesare. I’m Hayden.”

Cesare nodded. When he looked back at Hayden, it seemed there was obvious interest in those incredible eyes.

No, it’s more like we met in some other life. Like I’m the one he’s been waiting for…

Hayden smiled to himself. Where the hell had that notion appeared from?

That’s the problem with playing a guy who travels in time. You start to think that kind of thing could really happen.

He could have hung around there forever, certain Cesare felt the same spark he did, but he was holding up the queue.


He will fight for the one he loves, no matter what it takes.

Cesare Bianco is a shifter without a pride. Exiled from his home town of Padua after losing a leadership fight to his corrupt, self-serving uncle, he travels to Rome in search of a new beginning. A chance meeting sees him taking a job on the catering crew of a Hollywood blockbuster. When he meets the movie’s handsome lead actor, Hayden, he knows he’s in the presence of his mate. But Hayden is human. Even though he offers the possibility of lasting love, Cesare must fight all his instincts to make it happen.

Hayden Skarz is on the verge of the big time. Landing the lead in sci-fi adventure Thrown to the Lions has put him on the road to stardom. Filming in Rome is a difficult new challenge for him, though being around Cesare, the hunk who works in the catering truck, makes his job much sweeter. Sex between them is passionate and wildly inventive. But Hayden has a stalker, who’s tired of being ignored in favour of other men. When what started as a crush turns into murderous obsession, can Cesare help Hayden make it off the film set alive?

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About Elizabeth Coldwell

ElizabethColdwell_AuthorPhotoElizabeth Coldwell is the author of numerous short stories and full-length novels. Her stories have appeared in the best-selling ‘Best Women’s Erotica’ series and Black Lace’s popular ‘Wicked Words’ collections. Formerly the editor of the UK edition of Forum magazine, she contributed a spicy monthly column, ‘The Cougar Chronicles’, to its pages. When she is not busy writing, she is an avid supporter of Rotherham United Football Club and can be regularly found on the terraces at weekends, cheering her boys to victory (hopefully!).

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The Other Half of Me by Lor Rose


The Other Half Of Me Banner

The Other Half Of Me

by Lor Rose 


Patryk’s Branch Book One

Release Date:  September 15, 2015

 The Other Half Of Me Cover


As a homicide detective for the greater Houston area, Detective Barrack Invar’s job was stressful enough without his Lieutenant breathing down his neck to do more, not to mention his girlfriend, Isabella. His partner, Calhoun, was a joke. It didn’t help that over the years Barrack earned a reputation as being a bit of an asshole at work. Things for Barrack didn’t look any brighter in the wake of a murder case with absolutely no leads at all. Until he came home to a wonderful surprise. His best friend since the age of three had finally come home.

Willow only survived. His best friend since childhood, Barrack, was all that mattered to him. Willow craved any small scraps of affection Barrack was willing to give. Every look, every praise, every touch, tore Willow’s soul because he was constantly reminded of what he couldn’t have. Barrack. When Willow unexpectedly returned home his insides burned with the need for the man he loved. The need to give control…

Barrack found his feelings towards Willow slowly twisted and changed. He loved his best friend. A man. For Barrack it was a very simple thing. Willow on the other hand could not accept what Barrack was freely willing to give. Willow did the only thing he knew. He ran.

Returning home, Willow’s fears were confirmed when Barrack refused to come with him. Barrack’s promises to follow seemed long in coming. Willow was left devastated feeling abandoned and alone.

Can Barrack convince Willow of his love? Will Willow allow Barrack to love him?


The energy of the crowd and passion from the band was infectious. Barrack stood as close to the stage as he could. His body ached and his eyes itched with need for sleep after a long day at work then the concert, but it was worth it. Seeing him made it worth it.

He headed for the VIP line forming next to where NRG Stadium kept their performance stage when not in use. Other bodies ran into him, one group nearly running him over with their purple VIP passes swinging from their necks. Barrack shook his head. Purple badges like theirs only allowed them into VIP after-show signings, nothing special. Black was the next level up, with after-show backstage access and a gift signed from all the band members for Christmas. White, like his, allowed backstage access before and after shows, as well as the yearly gifts at Christmas and the holder’s birthday, plus special one-on-one time with the band at a scheduled party near Halloween.

The organizers broke up the white badges into groups of seven per party to allow more one-on-one time. Hence, only twenty-one people had a white VIP badge. If a white badge didn’t come to a white party more than twice in a row, they automatically lost their white VIP status since other people would use it to its full advantage, like him.

“Hey Barrack!”

He turned to see Bridge, the band’s head of security, waving him over, then shouldered his way through the crowd, slowly making his way to the front of the line.

“Annoying, isn’t it?” Bridge’s voice had a slight rasp to it. He was a tall broad man with a stern-looking face and jaw. His hair looked swept back by the wind.

The two clasped hands and Bridge pulled him into a one-armed hug, each patting the other heavily on the back. “If I had to deal with this all the time, then shit yeah. Doesn’t it get annoying?” Barrack asked and gave Bridge one more hearty pat on the arm before releasing him.

Bridge shrugged. “Not really, no. How you’ve been?”

Barrack smiled at his old friend.  They had gotten close once a long time ago when they’d been undercover. When everything was all said and done with that case, the men had lost contact, only to be reacquainted a few years later when Emotio hit the scene.

He shrugged. “Same old, same old.”

Bridge shook his head. “Come on.” He opened the door to allow them inside. Barrack stepped into a much quieter but still busy space. Stage personnel hustled about doing whatever it was that they did. One was carrying a large stuffed rhinoceros—he didn’t want to know.

“Barrack.” Rex Louis Clark, the drummer waved and Barrack waved back. The man stood shirtless with raven black hair that shined blue in the light. A white stripe accented the side of his head. The tabloids had nicknamed him ‘Skunk’, and for good reason. He’d been known to have a bad temper. He was talking to Luxe, the band’s stylist. Why, he didn’t know since the man seemed to be allergic to shirts.

“Everyone else is in back,” Bridge said. “The public signing will start in half an hour.” Bridge patted him on the back and walked off, leading the way.

“That’s it?” Half an hour seemed like a short break after such a performance.

Bridge shrugged. “Aksel and Patryk wanted to be done early.”

“Wonder why,” he mused aloud while they turned a corner.

Bridge sighed, but it sounded more like a disbelieving tsk. He opened another door and walked inside with Barrack following behind.

“You know you’re the only fan we actually like enough to hang out with,” Bishop, the lead guitarist, said from the wet bar. His silk black pirate shirt caught the light, highlighting his exposed chest. His shoulder-length bleached hair sported pink highlights at the tips, which faded up the length.

“That one isn’t so bad,” Aksel, the bass player, said as he plopped on the couch. His purple Mohawk didn’t even move.

Titus, the piano or keyboard player, threw wadded paper at Aksel, which he caught. “Do ya mean Greg?” Titus’s slight Irish accent came through. His all white hair almost glowed in the fluorescent lighting.

“I hate him,” Bishop said as he took a long drink.

“That’s because—” Patryk Sama’el, the lead singer, walked in from another door on the opposite side of the room. “—he drinks just as much alcohol as you.” His hair was black, the sides of his head shaved into a military buzz, and the center was long, thick, and styled effortlessly to the side. A chunk of white highlighted his bangs. Diamond stud earrings decorated his ears. He had changed from his earlier outfit into skinny jeans and a loose rock and roll T-shirt. “And even we cannot afford that.” His comment won a round of chuckles and the finger from Bishop.

The singer shook his head and plopped on the couch next to Aksel. Heavy black makeup framed his eyes, as did an elegant gray and black masquerade mask. This air of secrecy heightened Emotio’s fame. No one had seen Patryk’s face, not even Emotio’s other members. Rumors soared over Patryk’s looks, but the man in the center of it all, Patryk, neither confirmed nor denied anything. Patryk Sama’el symbolized mystery, and mysteries were intriguing.

“Hey Barrack,” Patryk said with a tiny wave, looking relaxed but tired.

“Hey, guys.” Barrack entered the room while Bridge said his goodbyes. “You want a water?” Barrack asked Patryk who nodded. Barrack had to practically shove Bishop out of the way to get to the wet bar.

He retrieved two waters, then handed one to Patryk while he sat between Aksel and Patryk. “Where’s Dominik?” Another scan of the room confirmed the electric violinist wasn’t there.

Titus tossed him the wad of paper, and he tossed it back. “Good question.”

“Bathroom,” Patryk supplied with a sigh.

Barrack looked him over. Patryk seemed to have melted farther into the couch since he sat down, “Okay?”

Patryk nodded. “Just tired.”

“If I danced like you in them damn high heels, I’d be tired too.” Bishop twirled and went back to the bar for another drink.

Before anyone could answer, Dominik walked in from the same door Patryk had. He stopped short when he saw Barrack. “Hey.” On stage, Dominik was a force worthy of the band’s fame, but in that moment, he seemed tiny and timid, as if he were two different people.

His emerald-green hair had white accents. Dominik’s style was the most formal. A well-tailored suit showed off his form. The jacket was opened, exposing a white button-up shirt and loosened black silk necktie.

“You okay?” Barrack asked while getting up. “Here, sit. You look tired.”

Dominik smiled, but it seemed sad to Barrack. “I’m fine.”

“Please, sit.” He motioned to the spot he’d given up. Dominik meekly nodded and slowly made his way to the sofa. To Barrack, he seemed to move a little too gingerly. “Thanks,” Dominik said as he passed. Barrack’s gaze zeroed in on him pressing his arm to his side. A small bruise visible on Dominik’s knuckles made Barrack frown.

“Son of a bitch.” Rex burst into the room and chucked something against the wall, but Barrack didn’t see what it was. Barrack was too focused on Dominik’s barely there flinch and subsequent wince.

He covered it up well. “Lose a bet?” Dominik’s response was more subdued than usual as he sat.

Rex growled as he strode across the room to the other door. “Shut up,” he snapped. “I’m taking a shower.” The poor door almost groaned under Rex’s grip as he wrenched it open, and the reverberating slam when he left sent a crack throughout the room.

“Well he’s a ray of sunshine, isn’t he?” Bishop listed to the side with a giggle.

Patryk sighed, but Barrack could tell he was watching Dominik, too. “Stop drinking. We still have the signing to do.”

Bishop flipped him off again. “You gonna stop me?”

“And mess up this manicure?” Patryk waved black fingernails at him. “I don’t think so. Barrack can subdue your drunk ass.”

Bishop looked at him with bleary eyes. He must’ve been drinking on stage. “Wouldn’t mind ‘hat at all.”

“Barrack is off limits. He’s got that Willow fellow,” Titus said while still tossing the wad of paper around.

Barrack shook his head. “We’re not together.”

Patryk chuckled. “The way you talk about him sure makes it seem you are.”

Barrack moved and sat on the arm of the couch closest to Patryk. “Well, he does have a nice ass.”

Bishop spit out his drink. “You’re gay!”

“No.” Barrack took Patryk’s water and opened it, then gave it back. “Drink that,” he said under his breath, then turned his attention back to Bishop. “But I can appreciate a nice ass when I see one.”

“We have got to meet this Willow,” Titus said. “He’s all ya talk about.”

Barrack shrugged. “He’s busy.”

Aksel heaved himself up. “The fucker is always busy,” he said while retrieving his own water.

“Be nice,” Patryk said.

Aksel made a jacking off motion. “Suck me.”

Barrack laughed, but Patryk punched his thigh. “What?” He asked then took a drink of water.

“Don’t encourage him,” Patryk quipped, then took a swig of water.

A knock on the door stole everyone’s attention. Bridge stuck his head in. “Signing starts in 5. Where’s Skunk?”

Bishop giggled. “Ima tell you said ‘hat.”

“That’s great, where is he?”

Barrack nodded to the other door. “Showering, should be about done.”

Bridge walked into the room and to the other door. “You guys get out there and I’ll get him.”

“Better you than me,” Patryk said as he got up.

The rest of the band followed with their own brand of sarcasm except for Dominik. He sat on the sofa and looked a little pale. “You okay?” Barrack asked again.

“Yeah. Help me up.” Dominik offered his hand, and Barrack pulled him up. The man seemed too light even for his smaller physique.

Barrack watched Dominik walk. He had a slight hitch to his step. “If you ever need anything, I can help you.”

Dominik stopped and turned. The gaze that met Barrack’s could only be described as broken. “You’re a really good friend.” With that, Dominik strode off with Barrack following. They arrived at the signing and Dominik took his place between Aksel and Rex.

Bridge came up behind him. “Everything all right?”

He stepped back so he and Bridge were behind the band but out of earshot. “You know what I think.”

“Yeah” was all Bridge said, and the two lapsed into silence.

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About the Author

Lor RoseLor is a snarky, over the top genderfluid polyamorous demipansexual with dark hair and pink highlights. Although, sometimes the color varies. She is almost constantly fighting with her muse, Animus, or referring the fights between Animus and Epicene, her other muse. Lor started reading very questionable M/M fanfiction at a very young age in the closet. Literally. Though that didn’t stop her from getting caught once or twice. This early love of things M/M sparked her writing career. Without a doubt, her Christian high school English teacher Mrs. B didn’t expect Lor to fall into the M/M genre. Mrs. B did know Lor would be a writer someday because when the class had a minimum, Lor had a maximum. It truly was unfair.

Besides writing, Lor may also be found with one of her two horses, the Chihuahua or her cat. Any un-caught typos are courtesy of the cat, who shoves Lor’s things out of the way when it’s her time for cuddles or playtime… Which is about every ten minutes.

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BLOG TOUR: The Chosen by Annette Gisby

Male/Male Fantasy Romance
Date Published: June 2013

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The neighbouring kingdoms of Oscia and Arcathia have been at a tentative peace for three years after centuries of warfare. Prince Severin of Arcathia has been brought up to put duty before all else and as the only son of the King and Queen, it is his duty to marry and produce an heir. His parents want him to marry an Oscian princess to cement that tentative peace. Unfortunately Severin isn’t interested in princesses. Now, if he had his pick of princes that would be another matter.
Havyn has been a slave all his life. When his aptitude for wizardry is discovered, he finds himself purchased and freed by Prince Severin and apprenticed to the royal wizard, Ildar. His duty is to stay chaste to keep his powers strong, but his feelings for Severin sorely test his resolve.
With kingdoms at war, the throne hanging in the balance, magic in the air, and outside forces trying to keep them apart, can the two men find happiness together, or is duty more important than love?

Drunken revellers spilled out onto the street, a few of them leering at Havyn, who moved closer to Severin and held onto his cloak. “No one will harm you,” Severin promised, although looking at some of the toughs, he wondered if his own skill with a sword would be enough if they all decided to attack at once. One of the men vomited over the threshold of the inn, and then two of his friends dragged him off, all three of them singing off key as they staggered into the twilight.
The inn was crowded with people, some looked like smiths relaxing after their day’s work, others had the look of soldiers or adventurers, yet others were apparently groups of travellers who looked warily at the door when Severin and his companions stepped carefully over the puddle of vomit. The smell made him a little nauseous himself, and he hurried the three of them over to the bar and the woman behind it.
Her face was caked with makeup, and her large bosom seemed in danger of falling out of the tight bodice that encased it. Havyn blushed, looking down at his feet. Had he never been in a tavern before?
“We’d like a room for three for the night,” said Severin. “How much?”
“A gold piece for you and the wizard. The dog can sleep in the barn with the rest of the animals.”
“We don’t have a dog.”
The alewife jerked a finger at Havyn. “Him.”
“He’s not a dog. He’s a person!”
“He’s a slave, ain’t he? Slaves ain’t people. He’s an animal. I don’t want my rooms fouled up.”
“He will be staying with us. I insist,” said Severin. “How much?”
“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” the barmaid winked at him. “That’ll be four gold pieces then. Food and drinks are extra.”
“Do you have a bath house?”
She snorted. “A bath house? Oh of course, my lord.” The woman made a mock curtsey. “And we have gold plated chamber pots an’ all! Where do you think you are? In a palace? No, we ain’t got a bath house, but I can send you up some hot water. There’s a tub in the room. A fireplace too. Not every room has a fireplace, you know. That costs extra.”
“Of course,” said Severin, trying not to roll his eyes.



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About the Author

Annette Gisby grew up in a small town in Northern Ireland, moving to London when she was seventeen. Being a very small town there were no bookshops and a small library. When she’d devoured every book she could get her hands on in the library, she started writing her own stories so she would always have something to read later.
When not writing she enjoys reading, cinema, theatre, walks along deserted beaches or wandering around ruined castles (great places for inspiration!) New Zealand is her favourite place and she hopes to travel back there one day. She’s a fan of Japanese Manga and Anime and one day hopes to learn Japanese.
She currently lives in Hampshire with her husband, a collection of porcelain dolls and stuffed penguins and enough books to fill a small library. It’s diminishing gradually since the discovery of ebooks but still has a long way to go.
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ES_IAmHopeTitle: I Am Hope

Series: The Meteora Trilogy

Author: Evelyn Shepherd

Publisher: Loose Id Publication

Cover Artist: Valerie Tibbs

Length: 70,000 words

Release Date: September 8, 2015

Blurb: The undead were only the beginning.

Topher, Jesse, and Sawyer thought their greatest threat were the Infected and Mutated that roam the world. As they struggle to reach the camp in Kill Devil Hills in North Carolina, they soon discover that the monstrous mutations of the undead are the least of their problems. Something else, something far more intelligent and lethal, is hunting them.

Topher knows that the only way humanity will survive is to find a cure for the strange infection that’s ravaged the world. He’s on the brink of discovering it; but the further his research goes, the more he realizes that curing the world of the infection may mean losing Sawyer.

The three will fight to stay together, and Topher will have to make the ultimate choice: cure the world or save his lover?



“Throw your guns down.”

Rio clutched her shotgun close, and for a second, I didn’t think she’d hand it over. With a frustrated growl, she tossed the gun down. Nash and Jesse mimicked Rio’s action.

“Now what?” I asked. I had to focus on something other than my rising fear. I never knew fear could have a flavor, but it did—it tasted of steel and copper, of bullets and blood. “Herd us over to the others, where you wipe us out all at once?”

“No. I will give you a chance to repent. Renounce your ways, pledge allegiance to the Lord, and I’ll spare you.”

“Don’t you get tired of the taste of crap?” Nash asked.

Moonlight broke through the clouds, briefly casting the world in silver. Jane stared at us, her eyes lost and filled with so much desperation. When I had been kidnapped by the family of cannibals, they had shared the same look: the inability to cope with the downfall of man. They’d wanted so badly to explain the unexplainable that they’d clung on by the smallest of threads.

Starvation means killing.

Salvation means killing.

Living means killing.

There’s no other way around it—not for the cannibals who had killed General Faust, and not for Jane, who massacred her flock.

“Richey, get the boy,” Jane ordered. “He’s innocent.”

Richey went for Jaden. Chloe dragged her brother behind her and flew at Richey. He raised his gun at her, but Chloe ducked and slammed into him at the waist, knocking him to the ground. The gun flew into the darkness. Over her shoulder she screamed, “Run, Jaden!”


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Evelyn Shepherd lives in Columbus, Ohio with two fat cats. Her time is split between writing and running a book/writing blog. She’s the author of the Theo Bourne Series, the best-selling Last Canticle, and the award-winning Meteora Trilogy.

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