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EXCERPT & GIVEAWAY: Boy Banned by RJ Scott

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Blurb

When the only way to win is to hide who you are, how far are you prepared to go?

Reuben “Angel” Jacobs is one step away from giving it all up. Losing a place in the live finals of Sing UK almost kills him. He has no choice but to go home and work for the family business, even though it means giving up his dreams and proving his old bullies right.

Corey Dixon is a rocker at heart. Being on the spectrum means that making sense of other people’s ‘normal’ is hard in itself, let alone in the chaos of a high-powered competition. Singing is his safe space, the only way he can think through the noise in his head. Messing up his audition for the live shows means his journey is over, and it’s the worst day of his life.

The judges throw them a lifeline and create a boy band from the near-miss hopefuls. Angel, Corey, and three others are put together in a room and offered the chance to sing as a group. Agreeing to become part of the new band means Corey has to hide who he is and what Angel has come to mean to him.

Is winning worth the price Corey and Angel have to pay?

Buy Links – Links to follow here: http://rjscottauthor.blogspot.co.uk/2016/02/boy-banned.html

Boy Banned 400

Excerpt

“Filming in five, four….”

Brianna was clearly the leader in this particular choice. “Hi, guys,” she said strongly, her tone belied by the fluttering of her hands around her face. She had assumed the “we have terrible news” expression. Both the male judges had relaxed back in their seats.

All five of the contestants said hello back; the other four were as worried and subdued as Corey sounded to his own ears.

“Okay,” she began, “boys, boys, boys… you all know that the auditions at boot camp weren’t so good. Mistakes, wrong song choices, emotions getting the better of you….” She trailed off and looked into the distance with a soft pout. She was acting out the whole disappointment thing and was a freaking expert at it.

Corey shifted from one foot to the other. His head was banded with the start of a headache, which he was convinced would deteriorate into a migraine if he didn’t get some meds soon. That would just be the perfect shitty end to the perfect shitty day.

“We’ve considered you a lot. You’re the hardest group of singers, and it took us a long time to come to a decision.”

Another dramatic pause, in which Corey imagined music would be inserted for added drama. He stopped breathing, waiting for her to finish what she was going to say. Maybe, somehow, they’d been given the chance to prove themselves again, and she would say they were through.

She shook her head slowly. “Sorry, boys. We’re not taking you through as solo singers to the live finals.”

And there it was. Corey’s dream gone. Finished.

He’d messed up worse than the worst fuck-up ever, and the disappointment was visceral, unforgiving, heartbreaking.

Double K let out a harsh sigh and then draped himself all over Angel, who didn’t push him away, simply held him gently.

At least Double K wasn’t crying.

Corey wanted to cry.

Not at the fact he’d come this close to getting to the live shows, but the fact it was all his own fault that he’d blown his audition. If only he’d stuck to Kasabian, or maybe another old Bon Jovi, he’d have made it through.

Corey didn’t cry, though. He let himself feel the pain of disappointment, then looked to the stage manager as to what they were going to do next. If the cameras caught him at that moment, they would see a man who’d been dealt a blow but was stubbornly determined not to give up.

“But—” Brianna was talking again, saying something about wildcards and judges’ choice and compromise. “We have our wildcard choice, and all five of you made the list as being just outside those we selected who made it automatically to the shows. You’re all good, but you just didn’t raise your game enough to make it through automatically.”

Corey tuned back in. Were they going to make the five of them repeat their performance? Was he still in with a chance? He was way better than Skinny, Puppy, and Double K. Only Angel was anywhere near his skills vocally. Angel, who was still supporting Double K, which made Corey’s skin itch with a prickle of resentment. He pushed it away.

Hope bloomed inside him at the thought he might have another chance. He wouldn’t mess up again. He could do this.

And then, as suddenly as hope began to grow, Brianna dashed it by using her serious tone, the one that had viewers falling for her all over again.

“We’d like you to consider grouping together, becoming one band, and going through to the live finals as our wildcard choice in the group category.”

Stunned silence.

Double K was quiet, and Puppy had even stopped swearing quietly under his breath.

“Go,” Brianna said. “Take some time. Talk it over.”

In a daze, his chest tight, Corey left the stage, the last of them to leave, following Double K back into the large room they’d just been sitting in. Cameras followed them in, and all of them stood looking at each other.

“Okay, guys, this is a big decision,” the showrunner said. “We’ll keep the cameras out of the room. Let me know when you’re done. You have an hour before we offer this to our next reserve.”

He turned to leave, but Corey needed to ask one thing.

“If we say no, does that mean one of us alone would become the wildcard?”

Hope sat in his chest, and he willed the man to say yes.

The producer checked his clipboard and shook his head. “No. It’s all or nothing, because we have a girl up on second reserve if you decide you want to call it a day.”

Silence.

The cameras left; the door shut.

Angel shook his head, Puppy cursed loudly, Skinny thumped the wall, and Double K burst into tears.

And all Corey could do was stand there and use every available ounce of energy to focus on what the hell had just happened.

Great.

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Buy Links

Link to master page with all buy links etc

http://rjscottauthor.blogspot.co.uk/2016/02/boy-banned.html

Giveaway

Prizes: $20 Giftcard for Amazon or All Romance eBooks, 3 x Texas books, 3 x Bodyguard books.

Click here or on the image to enter the Rafflecopter.

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About the Author

588b3-rj2bscottMy goal is to write stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and most importantly, that hint of a happily ever after.

I’ve has been writing since age six, when I was made to stay in at lunchtime for an infraction involving cookies and the mixing bowl. You can’t tell a six year old not to lick the bowl!

I 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 myself, I can be found reading anything from thrillers to sci-fi to horror. However, my first real true love will always be the world of romance. I love my cowboys, bodyguards, firemen and billionaires (to name a few) and love to write dramatic and romantic stories of love and passion between these men. (Yum)

With over 90 titles to my name and counting, I am the author of the award winning book, The Christmas Throwaway, which was All Romance Ebooks best selling title of 2010.

I’m 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.

I’m always so thrilled to hear from readers, bloggers and other writers. Please contact via the following links below:

* * * * *

Email RJ (rj@rjscott.co.uk)
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3432558.R_J_Scott

http://rjscottauthor.blogspot.co.uk/

RJ on Twitter
https://www.facebook.com/author.rjscott

https://www.librarything.com/catalog/author.rjscott

https://uk.pinterest.com/rjscottauthor/

Full list of all books and works in process

http://rjscottauthor.blogspot.co.uk/p/published-writing.html

List of all print books

http://rjscottauthor.blogspot.co.uk/2013/11/printbooks.html

Reviews for RJ’s book

http://rjscottauthor.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/reviews

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REVIEW AND GIVEAWAY! Still Waters by F.E. Feeley Jr.


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Blurb

Promise, Michigan is very much like every other small town across the state. Built on the edge of a lake, the homes sit in neat little rows in cute little neighborhoods. During the summer Promise bustles with tourists who come to spend their vacation dollars and enjoy the lake’s refreshingly cold water. But Promise holds a terrible secret. In the center of the lake is an abandoned island where a curse is rumored to wait for victims, unabated and deadly. Most think it’s just a story, something used to keep kids out of trouble. Still, everyone gives it a wide berth. Everyone except Bret and Adam. They dare to venture out the night of Bret’s birthday. When they declared their love and promise to get married, they believe no one else heard their whispered words—but they are wrong.

Five years later Adam dies, and Bret returns to his family to heal. But someone is killing the people of Promise in random acts of violence. Bret, with the help of FBI agent Jeff McAllister, must discover the identity of a murderer with death on his mind and revenge in his heart.

Note: This is the third in the Memoirs of the Human Wraiths series but can easily be read as a stand alone.

 

RJ’s review

ALL THE STARS!!!

I don’t normally review anymore, only when a book is so good, it would be an injustice not to tell you how damn good it is. I know it’s only June but I’m picking this as my read of the year.

The love Bret had for Adam was tangible as he struggles to let go in the five years since Adam’s death. My heart was in my throat for a lot of this story, but not because of the scary parts. I have no problem with scary – I spent a lot of my teen years reading Stephen King, so I’m good. But although this is tagged as paranormal, as with F.E.’s other work, it’s more a contemporary crime story that deals with a ghost/curse as the murderer. And THAT element was so well played out, it could be real. (Who’s to say it’s not?)

There’s a love story between Bret and Jeff, the FBI agent sent to track down the murderer. I love Jeff. He’s supportive, protective and understanding of Bret’s situation and he doesn’t try and fight against the fact that Bret is still in love with Adam and always will be. He was the perfect combination of tough FBI agent, and sweet man in love. I just wanted to give him the biggest hug.

“What do you want me to do? Anything, just say it,” Jeff begged.
“Love me like you would if you were in love with me.”
“I am in love with you.”

Massive boogers.

The final scene before the epilogue had me crying happy/sad tears so much I was a very unladylike/inelegant pile of snot.

F.E. has a way of pulling you into the story that will leave you with so many feels. So many. I cried a lot and cursed at F.E. in the middle of the night when I couldn’t put it down. The HEA is so satisfying. I got my wish not only for Bret and Adam, but for Bret and Jeff as well.

If you haven’t checked out this author’s work yet, I don’t know what you’re waiting for. You won’t be disappointed.

 

Check out the video here:

Giveaway time!

One random commenter will win an ebook copy of their choice from F.E. Feeley Jr.

I recently interviewed F.E. and he was generous enough to answer my questions. Make sure you check out the post on my blog here. There’s a giveaway over there too!

Buy links

Dreamspinner   Amazon   All Romance

 

Author Bio

13342124_1740655289514053_281357137_nF.E. Feeley Jr was born and raised in Detroit, Michigan and lived there for twenty years before joining the military. He is a veteran of the US Armed Services; having done a tour in support of Operation Iraq Freedom in 2002-2003, he turned college student, pursuing a degree in political science. He now lives in Southeast Texas where he is married to the love of his life, John, and where they raise their 1½ year old German shepherd, Kaiser.

As a young man, reading took center stage in his life, especially those novels about ghosts, witches, goblins, and all the other things that went bump in the night. His favorite authors include such writers as Stephen King, Dean Koontz, and Anne Rice, whose work allowed him to travel to far off places and meet fascinating and scary characters. As a gay man, he wishes to be able to write good fictional literature for those who love the genre and to write characters that readers can relate to. All in all, he is a cigarette smokin’, whiskey drinkin’, rock and roll lovin’, tattoo wearin’ dreamer of a man with a wonderful husband who puts up with his crap and lets him write his stories.

You can connect with F.E. here.

Facebook   Twitter   Goodreads  F.E’s Blog

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EXCERPT AND GIVEAWAY! ~~~ Pib’s Dragon by Beany Sparks

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Title: Pib’s Dragon
Author: Beany Sparks
Part of a series? If yes, can it be read as a standalone? Yes and yes
Series Title: Twisted Fairy Tales
Number in Series: #1
Publisher: Rainbow Ninja Press

Categories: M/M Romance, Gay Fiction, Paranormal, Humor

Release Date:
Early Download at Rainbow Ninja Press – 27th May
Third Party Pre Order – 3rd June
General Release – 10th June

Word Count: 21,699

 

Blurb:

A dragon is about to find out what happens when a cat discovers his cave of shiny treasures.

After nine years, Pib is finally free from his contract with the newly wed prince. Slipping out in the middle of the night to avoid getting stuck in another contract, Pib shifts into his cat and makes his way home to the little village he foolishly left, hoping his best friend Wil still lives there.

Dray is bored. His services as a princess-guarding dragon are no longer needed and even his gold and jewels are unable to cheer him up. His mood changes quickly when he catches someone in his treasure cave, and it starts a series of events that change his life forever.

When the two finally meet, sparks fly, but Dray will have to move quickly if he’s to save his cat after Pib gets kidnapped.

Excerpt:

Prologue

Pib snuck into the darkened room, tiptoeing quietly so as not to wake the newly crowned prince Geraint and his princess. Looking around, he both thanked and cursed his shifter senses. While he was grateful he could see inside the room, the smell of sex throughout the air was something he could have done without.

Reaching the desk on the far side of the room, he paused and glanced at the couple. Once he was satisfied they were still asleep, he eased open the cover and found what he was after—his freedom. After nine long years as the bastard’s slave, the letter freeing him from servitude almost brought tears to his eyes. Carefully folding it and placing it in his inside pocket, Pib gently shut the desk and tiptoed back toward the bedroom door, leaving the room as silently as he’d entered.

He knew there was only a limited window of opportunity for him to make his escape. Even though the pompous bastard had made a production of signing the form and granting him his freedom, Pib knew it was all for show. If he didn’t escape now, Geraint would get him alone and force him to sign another contract and then make some sort of bogus announcement about how Pib wanted to stay.

Pib snorted, unable to help himself. Luckily there was no one else around the castle at this time of the night, though even if there was, Pib didn’t care. He was leaving, and no one was going to stop him. Anyone who tried would have a close encounter with his knife, or his claws, he wasn’t picky.

“Hey, Pib, where are you off to in the middle of the night?” asked the guard at the front door of the castle. Pib never bothered learning their names or getting friendly with them, especially since Geraint could force him to kill any of them at a moment’s notice. He’d learned that it didn’t pay for him to form any attachments with those surrounding Geraint.

“Getting an early start on my retirement,” Pib replied, smirking at the man while he continued to stroll toward the exit.

“Sorry, Pib, but I have to check. Do you have a signed letter from Prince Geraint?” The guard shifted from foot to foot, showing his unease.

Pib stopped in front of him and forced a smile. “Of course,” he said, carefully extracting the letter and handing it over to the guard.

He waited, watching the guard closely as he read the letter. One wrong move and Pib was going to gut him. Nothing could happen to that letter.

“Looks good,” the guard said, handing the letter back to Pib. “It’ll sure be different without you around, but all the best. And, uh, don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope I don’t see you again.”

Returning the letter to his pocket, Pib looked up and smiled a real smile at the man. He wanted to laugh when the guard’s face paled as he caught sight of Pib’s canines, but restrained himself. “Don’t worry, I hope never to see you again either.”

With that, Pib walked out of the castle and made his way through the sleeping village. Pulling his hood up, he used the dark material to blend into the surroundings. He wasn’t taking any chances that Geraint wouldn’t wake up any moment and send guards running after him. After all, Pib was practically friends with all of the skeletons in Geraint’s closet.

Pib reached the edge of the village and paused. After nine long years, he was finally free of Geraint, his orders, and most importantly, his shackle. The magical cuff that had decorated his right ankle for nine years had been removed after Geraint had signed his release. The cuff was the only thing ensuring Pib’s obedience, and finally, it was gone.

Taking a deep breath, Pib stepped over the invisible boundary line and felt the remaining enchantments shatter and disappear, leaving him standing as his true self for the first time in years. Reaching inside, he called out his inner cat to come out and play, and in seconds, his clothes disappeared and he was standing on all fours in his serval form. Stretching, he threw one last glance back at the castle and the village before slinking away into the trees, using the natural camouflage to shield him as he made his way toward the start of his new life.

Buy Links:

Rainbow Ninja Press
Rainbow Ninja Press – EU Customers

Goodreads

Giveaway:

Enter the Rafflecopter giveaway here

Rafflecopter Prize: PDF Copy of Pib’s Dragon

Author Bio:

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.

Social Media Links:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/beany.sparks/
Twitter: @BeanySparks
Website: http://www.beanysparks.com/
Blog: http://www.beanysparks.com/blog/
Email: beany.sparks@gmail.com

 

 

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GUEST POST: The Journey of Jimini Renn by April Kelley

Today we are joined by April Kelley with a new book and an important message.

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The World without Water

If you turn the television to any of the numerous news station, you’ll mostly likely hear about the upcoming presidential election. At least, that’s what you’ll see if you live in the United States. If that isn’t the case in other countries, then I may consider getting a passport until November. Although maybe moving permanently would be better because, let’s face it, after the election the news will beat something else to death until we’re all so tired of hearing about it, we all want to scream. What they don’t mention very often are the things we should be concerned about like the world water crisis.

Yes, there is a global water crisis. This is a real thing, and if you look hard enough, you can find information about it although you have to dig through a few internet posts to find it. A few months ago, I saw a story regarding the water crisis in California. It touched on how the earth was sinking in on itself because of the lack of water in between the layers of the earth.

This problem is astonishing for someone like me because I live in Michigan. If I drive west for five minutes, I’ll visit one of the biggest bodies of fresh water in the entire world. In my area, we often have flash flood warnings whenever it rains hard, and it often rains, especially in the spring. Water is abundant for my and something I take for granted or did before writing The Journey of Jimini Renn.

After seeing this story, I wanted to know more and discovered the water crisis in this one small part of the globe was rather common and unfortunately becoming a bigger problem the more years that pass.

I began eating up information about the water crisis and did a bit of research about what would be the result if the problem continued. Putting the research to work for me was an easy choice and Jimini Renn, the main character popped up.

I should note that I greatly exaggerated the global water crisis in the book to create a dystopic feel. However, the water crisis is a real problem for some, although not nearly as severe as I made it out to be in the book. Still, I’m naïve to the issue no more. The Journey of Jimini Renn has certainly been a journey for me, making me aware of a global problem, one I’m looking forward to helping with in the future however I can.

If you are interested in learning more about the world water crisis, please visit: https://thewaterproject.org

BLURB:

In a world without surface water, Jimini Renn wants nothing more than to live inside the protective walls of Adam City for the rest of his life, but his little brother has other ideas.

As far as Jimini is concerned, Adam City has everything he needs. It has a well that provides much-needed water, food, and safety from the dangers of the outside world. When his bookworm of a brother leaves to chase waterfalls, Jimini must follow even though he knows it will probably mean his death. When the first person he meets on the outside pulls a gun on him, he’s proven right. No one who calls himself a slaver and has a gun has Jimini’s safety in mind, even if he is sexy. The journey Jimini expects isn’t the one he gets.

Excerpt:

“I will not hurt you, sir,” Jimini said and tried to keep some of the fear out of his voice. He knew he was unsuccessful, though.

He moved the jug of water next to the man and tried to move away as quickly as possible, but the man grabbed his hand in such a tight grip Jimini couldn’t get away from him even if he tried. The man pulled him down and took the jug with his other hand. He held it out to Jimini. Jimini looked at the jug and then at the man, trying to figure out what the man wanted from him.

“Help me,” the man whispered, so lightly Jimini could barely hear it.

Jimini nodded, taking the jug from the man with his free hand. “Let go of my hand and I’ll prop you up so you can drink. In exchange, I ask that you do not shoot the gun again.”

The man still held on to him as if his life depended on it. Jimini sat the jug down beside him. He placed his hand on the man’s gently and tried to pry his fingers away one at a time. It was pointless. His grip tightened even more. Jimini sighed and started working around the restriction.

“Why?” The man croaked out when Jimini moved his body, so he was cradling the man’s head in his lap.

Jimini pushed the weight of the man up as best as he could and wriggled around until they both sat up. “I’m misunderstanding the question.” Jimini handed the jug back to the man. “Drink slowly, not a lot all at once.”

The man tipped the jug up and took a long drink, some spilling out of the corners of his mouth, not listening to Jimini’s words of caution at all. “Do you not understand my words?”

Jimini reached for the jug with one hand, the other bracing them both with a fist in the dirt. He took the jug and set it down beside them. “You need to go slow with it, let your body adjust to the water. Going from nothing to full could make you sick.”

The man was heavy against him, his long dark hair tickled Jimini’s face as it came to rest against his shoulder.

“Why are you helping me?” The man asked. His voice was deep, and he sounded better this time as if the water wetted his throat enough to speak clearly.

“Why wouldn’t I extend help?” Jimini asked.

Buy Links:

(Available on Amazon Kindle Unlimited) http://www.amazon.com/Journey-Jimini-Renn-April-Kelley-ebook/dp/B01ERR9HDM/

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Author Bio:

2015-02-22_11.54.54Living in Southwest Michigan, April resides with her husband and two kids. She has been an avid reader for several years. Ever since she wrote her first story at the age of ten, the characters in her head still won’t stop telling their stories. If April isn’t reading or writing, she can be found outside playing with the animals or taking a long walk in the woods. If you wish to contact her, email authoraprilkelley@gmail.com. Please visit her website at authoraprilkelley.com

 

LINKS  
WEBSITE http://www.authoraprilkelley.com/
BLOG http://writeraprilkelley.blogspot.com/
FACEBOOK  
FACEBOOK PAGE https://www.facebook.com/authoraprilkelley
Fb GROUP https://www.facebook.com/groups/1554526621464220/
TWITTER @authoraprilkell
GOOGLE+ https://plus.google.com/u/0/+AprilKelleyAuthor
PINTEREST https://www.pinterest.com/aprillynn222/

 

 

 

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BLOG TOUR, EXCERPT AND GIVEAWAY! Broken Soldier by Jamie Lynn Miller

Title: Broken Soldier
Author: Jamie Lynn Miller
Genre: M/M Romance
Release Date: March 5, 2016
Sergeant Connor Finley and Sergeant Shawn Weller are dedicated soldiers working covert ops for Shadow Unit — a joint UK/US anti-terrorism task force.

Partners in the field and out, they had been through hell together for the last four years and made it through standing side by side. But when their latest undercover op to bring down an arms dealer plunges them into a world of drugs, sex and violence, Shawn must literally get in bed with the enemy in order to complete the mission. And Connor is forced to watch, helpless, as his partner is broken into pieces.
Will love be enough to put them both back together or will this be their final mission?

WARNING: Contains scenes of drug use, graphic sex and realistic situations.




Connor cut himself off as Shawn let out an angry yell and swung a wild punch at him. Connor was forced to release Shawn’s wrist to avoid his partner’s fist, which would have caught him right in the face. He stumbled back a step, hitting the refrigerator, nearly losing his footing on the items strewn about on the floor. Just as he straightened up, Shawn grabbed a coffee mug off the counter and hurled it at Connor’s head. Connor dropped to a crouch and the mug smashed into the refrigerator.

Keeping low, Connor went at Shawn like an American football player, ducking under his partner’s arms and catching him around his middle. Shawn’s back hit the edge of the counter and both of them slid to the floor. Shawn’s fists began pummeling at Connor’s arms and chest as Connor got Shawn first onto his back then flipped over onto his stomach, straddling his waist. Shawn tried to buck him off, yelling angrily and Connor was amazed at the strength the desperate craving for the heroin gave him.
“Please, Connor, please,” Shawn pleaded with him, breathing hard. “I just need a little bit. Just a little and I’ll be fine…”
Connor quickly pulled the syringe out of his pocket and used his mouth to pull off the cap, which he spit out onto the floor.
He swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry, mate,” he said, voice rough, then injected Shawn with the sedative.
“I need it, Connor, I need it…” Shawn mumbled as his eyes closed moments later, succumbing to the effects of the sedative.
Connor slid off of Shawn’s body then, slumping against the counter next to him, his face in his hands, gutted to the core by what had just transpired. A lump formed in his throat as he lifted his head and looked at his partner, lying there unconscious. Shawn’s face was drawn, flushed and wet with sweat, battered and bruised with dark circles under his eyes that had looked at him with such pain and desperation.
Shawn was the strongest, bravest man Connor had ever known, now reduced to this broken soldier before him.
All because of duty and loyalty to his unit and his mission. For the first time Connor feared that Shawn had been shattered into too many pieces to ever be put back together again.
His chest constricted at the thought, the grief and anger inside him suddenly too much to contain any longer. He grabbed for Shawn’s hand and held on tight as he broke down, the first sob tearing through him. He cried for Shawn, who was fighting a battle he might not be able to win and he cried for the two of them, wondering how they’d survive if Shawn didn’t.
He cried until there was nothing left inside him, until his eyes ran dry and his throat burned. He gathered Shawn into his arms then and held him tight, wishing he could take his place, but instead willing every ounce of strength he had into him, the only thing he could do.

eBook copy of any backlist title



Jamie Lynn Miller has been writing fiction since childhood and decided to take the plunge and go pro in 2008, finding to her amazement that people truly enjoyed her love stories. She’s a romantic at heart, and her tales reflect the desire we all have to find “the one,” persevering through trials and heartache for that happy ending.

 

Jamie has a degree in fine arts and has spent the last twenty years working as a graphic designer, though she’d much rather be writing. She was born in Chicago and still lives there today with her husband and their two furry, four-footed children, er… cats.

 

If she’s not brainstorming story ideas, you can find Jamie at a sci-fi convention, in front of a furnace doing glass blowing, or on a mat twisted into a yoga pose.



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GUEST POST AND EXCERPT ~~ The Tenth Muse by Belinda McBride

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Today we welcome Belinda McBride to Two Men to talk about her latest release, The Tenth Muse.

 

With His Sweet Breath…Zephyrus

The Tenth Muse is a love story featuring characters from the Greek Pantheon. It’s quite a cast of characters, so I thought I’d take a moment to introduce readers to a few of the supporting gods and goddesses. Some are familiar, so not so much.

Zephyrus is a fairly major deity in Greek mythology. I first heard his name through Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales. He’s the God of the West Wind, and the bringer of the Spring. There are strong connections to Spring and life and re-birth, so to me, I visualize him as a good natured man, with pale golden-red hair and vivid green eyes.

He was best known for his part in the myth about the youth Hyacinth, who was the lover of Apollo. Zephyrus was also infatuated with the youth, and was quite jealous. When Apollo and Hyacinth were practicing the discus, a gust of wind from the west blew Apollo’s shot astray, sending it wild to strike Hyacinth…killing him.

Of course, Zephyrus denies everything and we only have Apollo’s word on what really happened…

In The Tenth Muse, Zephyrus plays a small, but vital role in the story. He’s the close friend and reputed lover of Hermaphroditus, the half-brother of our hero, Eros. Zephyrus is a bit of a busy-body, but doesn’t mind getting his hands a little dirty when it’s time for mischief.

It’s quite possible that the God of the West Wind is bearing a torch for Herma, one that is unrequited. As you read The Tenth Muse, you’ll notice that wherever Herma goes, he’s always accompanied by light breezes that lift his hair and whisper secrets in his ear. Those are wind sprites Zephyrus has sent to live with Herma. While the sprites are children of Zephyr’s creation, they are not of his body, and they will never “grow up.” When I wrote them, I perceived them like little fairies or pixies. They are completely loyal to Herma, aiding him as servants, company and as spies.

As a god associated with spring, of course, Zephyr is associated with goddesses with similar attributes. He was married to Chloris, also known as Flora, a nymph of the Elysian Fields. He pursued her, carrying her away and ravishing her, but took her to wife. He also was the lover to Iris, the Goddess of the Rainbow, who was the messenger of Zeus.

As an author, I take liberties, reading various sources, picking and choosing the characters I like and embellishing them to suit the story I’m writing. Choosing who to include is much like standing before a massive buffet filled with beautiful and appetizing selections…it’s hard to decided which goes on the plate! The more I played with Zephyrus, the more appealing he became, so someday…he might wind up in a story of his own!

 

Blurb:

In a wicked game, the God of Love falls to his own arrow, and a gentle scholar learns how dangerous knowledge can be.

Aphrodite has had it.

It was bad enough that her son Eros walked a fashion show in drag, but did he really have to show the entire world his wings? Desperate to rein in the impulsive young god, she recruits the scholarly muse Rees to lure him back to Olympus until the scandal dies down.

After hundreds of years, Eros has finally located the reincarnation of his former love, Psyche. The only way to her heart is through fame, so the God of Love plans a daring campaign to win her back. Yet the closer he gets to Psyche, the more he’s drawn to a geeky young professor who came crashing into his life.

Eros drags Rees into his wicked world of high fashion and risqué parties, only to expose him to danger from an unexpected source. When Rees’ secrets come out, they threaten to destroy Eros’ love for him. Yet when Rees is kidnapped, Eros is forced to turn to the woman who set this catastrophe in motion—his mother, Aphrodite.

Reader Advisory: This book contains some scenes of kidnapping/captivity and graphic scenes of death and violence. This book also contains references to/discussions of rape.

 

Excerpt:

“What else do you know about Eros? Not me, but the god.” He was intrigued. Granted, Rees seemed to know a great deal about…well…everything. But it was just weird to hear him talking about the historical version of Eros.

“He loved long and true. Odd, that the god you say symbolizes lust is one of the few who had only one consort and one child.”

He pressed his eyes closed at the mention of his daughter, Bliss. She’d been his blood, half-divine, but like her mother, she’d finally succumbed to mortality. And like her mother, she’d chosen forgetfulness and rebirth. She’d been a mere heartbeat in his long existence. The memory of her made his heart ache. Sometimes he spotted a man or woman on the street, his gaze drawn by golden hair and blue, blue eyes. His grandchildren, hundreds of generations removed. It was another thought he avoided.

“It’s all fairy tales and fantasy, Rees.”

“Yes, of course. But people created these mythological beings out of a need for explanation. For comfort. They needed reassurance that there was more to the world than hard work and eventual death.”

He waded out farther, still facing Eros. His hands drifted in the clear water. “And think of it, Eros. Most of the Greek pantheon were rather fearsome characters, representing that which they feared and what they desperately needed. Apollo promised that when we woke in the morning, the sun would rise. Poseidon controlled the seas—when fishermen didn’t come back, it was the god’s will. And the fertility deities, Aphrodite, Hermes, Demeter…so very many gods and goddesses to pray to for successful crops and children. Then there was Eros. He was all about love. Not the weather or the crops or pregnancy, but quite simply…love. That was an amazing step forward in social development.”

Eros waded out into the water, enjoying the sensation of the sand slipping under his feet. He smelled salt on the air and thought of his mother. “He sounds a bit unnecessary to me.”

Rees turned and smiled at him. “He sounds like the creation of an evolving society.”

For a moment, Eros was afraid Rees would see his erection and be spooked, but even as the thought crossed his mind, warm water slipped up over his hips, hiding his groin. He tried to see if Rees was aroused, but the ebb and flow of the water revealed nothing.

Without much thought, Eros gave himself to the ocean, gliding under the surface, smiling a brief greeting to the tiny fish darting past.

Nearby, Rees was cutting through the water as though he’d been born to it, gliding down into the depths then rising, breaking the surface in a smooth, tireless stroke. The water was shallow. Eros skimmed along the bottom and kicked upward, rolling onto his back to watch the stars.

The version of Eros that Rees had described seemed like a stranger. How long since he’d really cared about others? He’d certainly known about Justin and Alejandro, but hadn’t been concerned enough to intervene. He’d worried over Rosalinda, and had almost talked himself out of the idea that she’d once been the love of his life. Because how could she be Psyche when he felt little for her beyond lust and a warmth that warred with his annoyance at her selfish behavior?

Beside him Rees drifted, completely comfortable in the water. Like Eros, he watched the sky, smiling at the path of a falling star.

“Did you make a wish?”

Eros blinked, surprised at how much the saltwater stung his eyes. “Yeah. I made a wish.”

He wished the hollow spot in the middle of his chest would go away. He wished that the two young men back at the hotel would gather up their courage and grab their happiness. He wished like hell that Rees would touch him, just brush a hand against his cheek. Nothing happened, and his buzz faded away. When he looked up, they’d drifted far down the beach.

The lights of the hotel were distant. He wanted nothing more than to keep drifting, away from his past and his present. Away from the heartache of Rosa.

His eyes were burning again.

A strong hand settled on his arm and the gentle surf tugged them back to shore. He landed on the sand with his head pillowed on Rees’ chest, his ass coming to rest on boney knees. Rees wrapped his arms tightly around Eros’ shoulders. He held on as the waves tugged at them, pushing, pulling and bathing them in warmth and the tingle of sea foam. It felt odd to have someone else holding him. And when a strong, graceful hand settled over his heart, Eros could no longer blame the ocean for the sting in his eyes and the salt on his cheeks. He turned his face into Rees’ chest and he cried.

 

Author Bio:

Belinda was born in Inglewood, California, but grew up far to the north in the shadow of Mt. Shasta. While her upbringing seemed pretty normal to her, she was surrounded by a fascinating array of friends and family, including various cowboys, hippies, scoundrels and saints.

She has a degree in history and cultural anthropology, but in 2006 made the life-changing decision to quit her job as a public health paraprofessional and stay at home full time to care for her severely disabled niece. This difficult decision gave Belinda the gift of time, which allowed her to return to writing fiction, which she’d abandoned years before.

Belinda’s hobbies include soap making, dog shows, collecting gemstones, travel, and Chinese martial arts. She has two daughters, three Siberian Huskies, two Salukis, and an array of wild birds that visit the feeders in the front yard.

As an author, Belinda loves crossing genres, kicking taboos to the curb, and pulling from world mythology and folklore for inspiration. She won the Passionate Plume in science fiction for her m/m romance An Uncommon Whore and the EPIC in paranormal romance for Blacque/Bleu, and in science fiction for The Bacchi. She, along with co-authors Cherise Sinclair and Sierra Cartwright were nominated for an RT Reviewer’s Choice Award.

You can find Belinda on the web at her website, goodreads, Facebook and Twitter.

 

Website: http://www.belindamcbride.com

Blog: http://www.belindam.blogspot.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Belinda-McBride-49209583129/

Twitter: @Belinda_McBride

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True Blue (Out of the Blue #3) by RJ Jones

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True Blue is the third book in the Out of the Blue series by RJ Jones. If you loved Cam and Jake in Out of the Blue, then fell in love with Kris and Gray in Black & Bluhe, make sure you don’t miss this one. It’s already a best seller at All Romance.

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The Blurb:

When being true to yourself means denial is no longer an option.

On the heels of a tragedy, Brandon White shaved his hair, adorned his body with tattoos, and concentrated on his attraction to the opposite sex. Fifteen years later, Brandon is a protective son and a loyal and respected member of the San Francisco Fire Department, bedding anything in a skirt that promises not to stick around afterward.

When his past and present collide in his dreams—including his best friend and fellow fireman, Mason—Brandon knows things are never going to be the same again. He starts to recall that fateful day years before, and the long-forgotten feelings that preceded it. The most important thing he remembers—he’s not as straight as he’d thought.

With help, Brandon learns to accept who he was always meant to be. But when tragedy strikes again, Brandon must reconcile his past and present and deal with his grief if he is to ever be true, not only to himself, but to Mason as well.

**This can be read as a standalone, however it is best enjoyed after reading the first two stories as side characters play a major role.**

Buy Links:

Amazon  All Romance  Smashwords  iTunes

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Don’t forget to check out Out of the Blue and Black & Bluhe if you haven’t already.

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EXCERPT: The Doctor in Unit H by Kris Cook

Title: The Doctor in Unit H
Series: A Mockingbird Place Novel
Author: Kris Cook
Genre: M/M Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 17, 2016
Maddox Butler
Some people say you can’t fall in love at 18. But I did. And the man of my dreams? Jaris Black. He was also 18.Our first year at medical school we moved in together. It was…perfect.

Until…


I haven’t seen or talked to him in six years. But I’ve never stopped thinking about him. Jaris is a very successful doctor, which is no surprise to me. Still living in Unit H at Mockingbird Place.
God, how I’ve missed him.


I won’t drag Jaris into the chaos that is my life. No. I won’t. But my mother who is dying has requested to see him. They were so close. Still are.
I had to honor Mom’s wish. I called him and he’s arriving in an hour. Can I keep my feelings hidden from him? I need to, for his sake

.

I stand by my front window, where the light is best this time of day, gazing at the white void, praying for inspiration. The blank canvas taunts me. Where to begin? It’s always like this when I start a new painting. It has to mean something. I need feeling and life. Right now, all I have is emptiness.

My roommate and best friend, Jackson, always teases me about my process—or in his words my “idiosyncrasies.” My last painting took me over a month to complete, but the first ten days was like this one, staring at the canvas before I pressed a brush filled with paint to its surface.
Out of the corner of my eye, through the window, I see one of my new neighbors walking up the sidewalk. Ava Stone is pregnant and is carrying a big box. In her current condition I wonder if she should be lifting heavy things. 
She and her good-looking cowboy, Luke Wagner, are moving into the apartment next to Jackson’s and mine—Unit E. That leaves Oliver’s old apartment, Unit F, as the only vacancy at Mockingbird Place. I met the couple at the complex’s yard sale when they were taking a look at the apartment. They were living in a motel so that Ava could start her classes at the university on time until they could find a place to rent. Ava and Luke’s new home had been empty for quite some time. Until now. I’m glad it’s finally going to be occupied and hope the new couple will be good neighbors. And most of all I have to stop thinking about one of them. 
I’ve never been attracted to cowboys before, but there is something about Luke that I can’t quite seem to shake. But I need to. He’s obviously taken and straight.
When Ava smiles at me as she turns to go into her apartment, I wave.
Glancing back at my canvas, I feel so frustrated. I’m no closer to an idea than before. Why do I do this to myself? No one will ever see this work when it’s completed. This painting is for my eyes only now that Malcolm is gone. He was the only one I was ever comfortable sharing my work with. He got it. He knew what I was trying to say with each piece. 

 

Like everyone else at Mockingbird Place, I thought he would live forever, even though he was eighty-two when he died. In June, we had his memorial in the courtyard and planted a tree in his honor near the pool.

 

I see Ava heading back to the parking lot and wonder how many more boxes she and her boyfriend have to unload. I decide to finish my coffee before I put my brushes away and help them. 

 

I step back from the blank canvas. Should I paint another portrait of Malcolm? No. I just can’t bring myself to paint him again. It hurts too much. I need more time. Right now, I could use an idea for this canvas, but I’m at a total loss. Damn it.

 

My art continues to be therapeutic for me. When I was twelve years old my counselor suggested art therapy and I found my passion. I can place myself inside my paintings, feeling the breeze on my skin or hearing the crashing of the waves on the shore. I’m there and I don’t feel the pain. Still, my paintings allow me to gaze into the darkness of my past. They also help me release the tension and anxiety.
Actually, I wish all of my paintings could remain private. Each is so personal and carries its own meaning. Whenever anyone looks at my paintings I feel exposed and vulnerable. Dirty. I wonder if people can see my younger self weeping from the despair in my brush strokes. I definitely can, no matter the composition I’ve created, whether beach or mountain scene, whether wild animal or newborn baby, whether impressionistic or realistic. Each painting carries drops of the pain from my past.
Two of my pieces were on display for my professors to judge. I wonder if it was worth the As I got on both, because it nearly wrecked me until I was able to take them back to my storage unit. That’s where I keep my completed paintings. 

 

This semester is so much better than last. I have a fantastic schedule and only have to be on campus two days a week. The rest of the week is mine. All mine. And the classes that I am taking don’t require students to create and present a work of art, unlike last semester.
As I put my empty cup down, I see Ava collapse and the box she was carrying crash to the ground. 

 

A blast of electricity shoots through my body, and I toss my brushes aside and rush out my door. 
“Ava. Ava.” I lift her head off the ground and start shouting for her boyfriend. “Luke. Get out here. Ava has passed out.” Where the hell is he?
Her eyes open. “What happened?”
“You passed out and fell,” I tell her.
“Oh no.” Ava rubs her hands over her belly. “Thank God, I just felt a kick. I think the baby is fine.”
Kick or not, I know she needs to see a doctor. “Where’s Luke?”

 

Before she can answer, I see him running up the sidewalk.

 

He kneels down next to me and shoves a sack in my chest. “My God, Ava, what happened?” he asks in his thick West Texas accent. “Are you okay?”

Though starting in straight erotic romance, Kris’s total focus now is on gay romance. When asked why recently, his answer was “My muse finally came out of the closet. Isn’t it about time? I’ve been out since I was twenty-five.” A voracious reader, Kris loves many genres of fiction, but this writer’s favorite books are romances that are edgy, sexy, with rich characters and unique challenges. Kris’ influences include Anne Rice, JR Ward, Lexi Blake and Shayla Black. Last year, Kris married the love of his life Stephen.
 
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GUEST POST: Hector and Anatolius by Vanessa Mulberry

Today we welcome Vanessa Mulberry who is celebrating the release of Hector and Anatolius, the first book in her Trojan Men series.

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Title: Hector and Anatolius
Author: Vanessa Mulberry
Series: Trojan Men #1
Release Date: May 9th 2016
Genre: Historical MM Romance, Paranormal

Guest Post – Why I’m drawn to MM Historical Romance

Why indeed?  There’s nothing in historical romance that you can’t get in other sections of the romance genre.  All romance can take you to different cultures and introduce you to people with lives nothing like your own. Contemporary, sci-fi, fantasy, paranormal… they’re all equally capable of transporting you to another world.

But there’s one thing you’re always guaranteed in a historical. I’m going to sound terribly shallow, but there’s something about a man in a pair of breeches, or a doublet, or a chiton.  I’m quite partial to any period dress to tell the truth. And I do like it if he lives in a flash manor house, castle or palace, though that’s not always a given.

My debut novel, Hector and Anatolius, is set in ancient Troy.  It should probably be called mythological romance instead of historical romance, because of the intervention of the gods.  Little is known about what life was like there, so I’ve written my novel through the prism of later Greek eyes as the mythology of the city came to us initially.  It has forever been described as a magnificent place, populated by brave, and often handsome, heroes.  That attracted me to the idea of setting a novel there before I had even thought of the story.

So, what draws me to MM historical romance? I like the clothes, and the settings, and the way they talk to each other, which is often so very formal.  I like a Regency Gentleman every bit as much as a Trojan Prince, and so I think it’s fitting that I end with a quote from Miss Bennett on when she fell in love with Mr. Darcy:

“I believe I must date it from my first seeing his beautiful grounds at Pemberley.”

Me too, Lizzy. Me too.

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BLURB
Hector has been a dutiful son and prince his whole life until his father orders him to marry. The Trojan was meant for no woman, and when he meets a handsome youth named Anatolius, he is more determined than ever to rule one day with a man at his side. However, after he is betrayed by his brother Paris his fate seems unavoidable. Hector needs all the courage he has learned in battle, and the assistance of a goddess, to win the hand of the man he loves.

This is a gay (MM) romance novel set prior to the events of the Trojan War. It depicts romantic and sexual love between two men in a broadly tolerant society.

Hector and Anatolius is the debut novel of British author, Vanessa Mulberry.

Goodreads Links: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/29759539-hector-and-anatolius?from_new_nav=true&ac=1&from_search=true

Buy links: Amazon US | Amazon UK

EXCERPT

After the meal, Hector drew the lad to him, and they relaxed on the shared kline to talk about their histories and their beliefs. Both drank strong wine, but Hector watched Anatolius carefully, mindful of its dizzying effects. “Just a little,” he said when Anatolius asked one of the servants for a third cup. “I won’t touch you if you’re sotted, and you will have to wait another day for my attentions.”
Anatolius appeared embarrassed, but when the servant stepped away, he whispered, “Thank you. I don’t want to wait.”
When the conversation lulled, Hector scooped his guest up and carried him from the room.
Anatolius put his arm around Hector’s neck and rested his head against the prince’s powerful shoulder. He laughed and said, “I will walk to your bedroom if that is where we are going. I’ll run if you like.”
Hector strengthened his grip, pulling him a little closer. “You may race me there another day, but tonight you go in my arms.”
“Don’t you think you can beat me?”
“It wouldn’t worry me if you did. I carry you because I want it to be known I will be your man tonight. Tomorrow I will follow you to the bed if you wish.”
Soon they reached his private apartment. It was a magnificent space: large and airy, with room on one side for cozier entertaining than the andron permitted and a soft bed for afterward. It led onto a terrace, which looked down over the city, and, as the night was warm, the imposing doors to it stood open, their silver casings glowing faintly in the moonlight.
The lamps were already lit, illuminating murals dedicated to Eros. Hector set Anatolius down and saw the lad’s eyes widen as he looked around at the walls. “Gods,” he murmured, “is this a shrine or a bedchamber?”
Hector had worshiped a lot of men in that room, but he didn’t think the pictures so unusual. He reminded himself that Anatolius hadn’t been in as many beds as him.
“Do you want to pray? I don’t usually conduct rituals in the palace, but we can if you like.”
Anatolius continued to stare at the walls. Hector saw his eyes rest on an image of two men making love. One was bent over, being penetrated by the other who kissed his back.
“Do you think we should? I want my first time to be pleasurable.”
“You needn’t ask Eros for such a blessing. I will ensure that.”

About the Author
Vanessa Mulberry lives in England with her husband and daughter. Her achievements are numerous and of no interest to anyone reading this. Her hobbies include cheap alcohol and romance novels. Growing up, Vanessa dreamed of becoming Mr. T, but the position has not yet fallen vacant. She has settled for being a romance novelist instead.

Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

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GUEST POST and GIVEAWAY: Wolf en Garde by A.F. Henley

Wolf Animation GIF HeaderWelcome back to the blog tour and giveaway for my newest release, Wolf en Garde. I’ve been taking these opportunities to introduce, or in some cases re-introduce, the characters and places found in the story through tiny teasers from the novel. And we’ve finally got to the point in the tour where we’re meeting some new characters – the people that represent those folks that live on the other side of the wolves.

I realise this introduction sounds remarkably similar to the last post I did, but there’s a reason for that. See, while the last post was used to introduce you to kinds of people that Lyle deals with on the “law” side of things, this one will introduce you to the people on the other side of that law.

And they are also definitely not the kind of people one wants to find standing at one’s door.

However, before I get to the teaser, I want to remind you that as a thank you for joining me, I’m running a giveaway that will get one lucky winner their very own signed, print copy of Wolf en Garde, a sterling silver (nickel and lead-free) Howling Wolf Bangle, and a $20 gift certificate to the Less Than Three Press book market! Be sure to read to the bottom of the post to find out how to enter.

And now, I present:

Tiny Teaser: Introducing – The Other Side of the “Law”

As he waited for room service to deliver their order—one club sandwich, one tuna salad on rye, for the ridiculous price of fourteen dollars a plate—Lyle felt like a prisoner waiting to hear if his stay of execution was going to come through. When the knock finally came, Lyle just about jumped out of his skin.

“Just leave it in the hallway,” Lyle barked, then immediately regretted his attitude. He lowered his voice and tried for pleasant. “Please. And thank you.”

The man’s voice that responded was professional, calm, and soothing. “I’ll need you to sign for it, sir.” The man paused, his voice lightened with what might have been amusement. “Please and thank you.”

Lyle walked to the door and peered through the peephole. The man wore a black suit, a white shirt, and his short dark hair was slicked back in an old-fashioned style that made him look quite attractive in a Bogart kind of way. The silver rectangle over his left breast pocket read “Cabal Horace—Manager”. As if knowing that Lyle was peering at him, Cabal Horace—Manager offered the door a wide, close-lipped smile. Beside him sat a cart draped with white linen, and on the cloth sat two silver domes, two sets of silver folded into white cloth napkins, and a silver pitcher glistening with great drops of sweat. Lyle’s stomach uttered a low, grumpy rumble of hunger.

Fighting the trepidation inside him that was now screaming—Caution! Caution!—Lyle opened the door. “Is there a problem, sir?”

“Not at all!” Cabal grasped the handle of the cart and pushed it into the doorway. “Why ever would you think so?”

Lyle shrugged and let Cabal pass. For reasons he couldn’t explain, Lyle leaned against the door to the bathroom and willed it to stay shut. Lyle pointed at Cabal’s nameplate. “I just thought it was odd that the manager would stop in.”

“Ah, yes, of course.” Cabal pressed the door shut behind him and wheeled the cart deeper into the room. “It is so quiet tonight, you see. And the night can get so long. I prefer to wander than to sit in my office and count the minutes. Besides,” he added, clasping both hands behind him and standing mid-room in an almost soldier-like stance as he eyed Lyle thoughtfully, “if I choose to do the work myself, then I can send some of the staff home. They like that, you see. Family time and all. An unexpected break from the tedium of work. I do what I can to make them happy.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

“Thank you,” Cabal said around a smile. “Are you enjoying your stay?”

There was an inflection to Cabal’s voice that made Lyle want to beat his head against the wall so that he wouldn’t have to hear it. What Lyle found so disdainful he couldn’t tell, but it was there, as clear as the light above their heads.

“Very much,” Lyle replied. “But I am quite hungry. So…”

“And your friend?” Cabal said, ignoring Lyle’s prompt for him to leave. “He’s not with you?”

“He’s out walking,” Lyle lied. Why the lie felt right, he didn’t know. “It’s a beautiful night. And we’ve been in the car for a while. He thought a stretch before bed would be good.”

“Lovely.” Cabal drew the chair out from under the desk and sat. “Perhaps I’ll wait for him to return.”

Suspicion flared into full-out mistrust in Lyle’s guts. “For?”

Another close-lipped smile drew up the corners of Cabal’s lips. It did not reach his eyes. “Why, to see if he’s enjoying the stay, of course. To see if there’s anything we—I—can do to make his stay more pleasurable.”

“There isn’t.”

Cabal’s expression darkened even as his smile grew. “You speak for him?”

Water dripped in the bathroom. It echoed in Lyle’s ears. It was, however, the only sound from the small room.

When Cabal spoke again, his words were nothing more than a whisper. “Are you his alpha?”

Fear gripped Lyle’s stomach. “I don’t understand that term.”

Cabal clucked his tongue. The sharp tsk resounded through the room. “Liar, liar. And see, now you have personally offended me. It will make doling out Arius’s punishment so much easier. I tend to find it hard to work myself into a frenzy when I’m doing it for someone else.”

For the first time since he had shown up at the door, Cabal drew his lips up over his teeth. Long, yellow fangs that appeared to be as ancient as time itself fell over his lower lip. “You know what I mean, don’t you? Wolf?”

Wolf, en Garde Excerpt

© AF Henley, 2016

Blurb

Wolf, en Garde

Wolf en Garde Front CoverThree years ago Lyle made a mistake that cost him his freedom, and almost his life. Now, sick to death of watching his father love the man that Lyle wanted, Lyle accepts an offer to leave Wolf, WY behind and see what life in Washington, D.C. can do for him instead.

When Lyle comes across a seductive, attractive stranger with a fascinating yet terrifying view of humanity, he’s more than intrigued. It doesn’t take Lyle long to realize that Arius isn’t just playing games, though, and when Lyle runs across a secret in Arius’ lair he has no choice but to flee, even knowing his actions will enrage Arius.

On the run, with only a psychic’s second sight and his own instinct to help him, Lyle has nowhere to go but home. The only question is, will they have him when he shows up.

Genre: Gay, Paranormal, Urban Fantasy

Notes: Wolf, WY contains some explicit and violent content

Book 2 in the Wolf series

 

Purchasing Link – save 15% by preordering your copy today! Discount available until May 17th

The Giveaway

Wolf en Garde GiveawayOn behalf of the tour, please join the giveaway by taking part in the Rafflecopter below. The prize consists of a sterling silver (nickel and lead-free) Howling Wolf charm bangle, a $20 Gift Certificate to the Less Than Three Press book market (free books!), and a signed, print copy of Wolf, WY.

For all the terms and conditions, please check out the t’s and c’s posted on the Rafflecopter.

** Please note that this giveaway is being offered tour-wide and there will be one winner awarded for the entire event.

ENTER RAFFLECOPTER GIVEAWAY: Click here

And if I could just take one more second of your time to say thank you to Because Two Men Are Better Than One for hosting this stop for me today. It’s an honour and a pleasure to be on your site and I am truly grateful for you allowing me to share with your viewers.

And a great big thank you to you, my friends, for reading and joining me. Best of luck with the giveaway and I hope you enjoyed the post!

Until next time,

AF Henley ❤

Nic: It was our pleasure to have you. You are welcome back any time. 🙂

About the Author

AF Henley_Avatar croppedHenley was born with a full-blown passion for run-on sentences, a zealous indulgence in all words descriptive, and the endearing tendency to overuse punctuation. Since the early years Henley has been an enthusiastic writer, from the first few I-love-my-dog stories to the current leap into erotica.

A self-professed Google genius, Henley lives for the hours spent digging through the Internet for ‘research purposes’ which, more often than not, lead seven thousand miles away from first intentions but bring Henley to new discoveries and ideas that, once seeded, tend to flourish.

Henley has been proudly publishing with Less Than Three Press since 2012.

For more information, please stop by for a visit at afhenley.com