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GUEST POST: Sexy to Go Anthology

Sexy to Go Sexy to Go started back in December of 2014 as a VCI or very crazy idea. It was inspired by a freebie collection of stories called Stories on the Go and meant to take advantage of reader’s preference for shorter works. While the original short story box set didn’t focus on romance or erotic romance, Sexy to Go did.

As many of the writers for Sexy to Go write M/F, M/M, F/F, and ménage, and skip around from genre to genre, there was plenty of gay romance mixed into in our 2015 box sets. But the ongoing mix always gave Sexy to Go a little bit of an identity crises. Which genre and which pairing to tout became a problem that wasn’t easily solvable. Enter the idea of themed boxed sets. Yes, others were already doing them, and in a sense Sexy to Go was tardy to the party, but we never for an instant thought we wouldn’t jump on that band wagon.

With so many great authors on board for Sexy to Go Gay Romance, it’s our very best volume to date!

Blurb

Sexy to Go Gay Romance features nine scorching hot MM romances to make your blood sing. Whether finding love at a Jewish singles dance or while crossing the River Styx, these men remind us that love is always worth fighting for, no matter what the cost. Meet a handyman who’s an ace with his tools, a king who kindles the passion of a Greek god, and an architect who erects more than buildings. From the everyday to the fantastical, these stories explore male-male love in all its simmering intensity.

Matzo Ball by Avery Duran

When Jacob’s outgoing best friend talks him into attending a party for Jewish singles, neither man realizes that it’s not a gay event. Things go from bad to worse when Jacob’s friend doesn’t show up. The night turns around when Jacob befriends Ian, a sexy bartender. After a spectacular kiss good night, they go their separate ways. But Jacob can’t forget the chemistry he shared with Ian, and hungers for more. In a city the size of New York, will these men be able to find their way back to each other?

Styx & Stone by Leigh Ellwood

What’s the afterlife really like? Charon the ferryman knows the River Styx like the back of his hand, and he enjoys giving newly departed Stone the full tour.

First Swallow of Spring by Asta Idonea

The first swallow of spring draws Seanán back to the fae circle each year, where he dances with the handsome fae lord, Iorweth. He knows the four rules he must follow if he wishes to be free to leave at the end of the night; however, Iorweth is growing ever more inventive in his attempts to trick Seanán into breaking them.

How Hercules Got His Bruise by Eva Lefoy

Hercules might have completed his 12 labors and become immortal, but he’s still not out to himself. Until he meets Sisyphus, a man who turns him on in ways not even a goddess can compete with. When Zeus threatens to destroy their new bond, Hercules must again rise to the challenge, this time to protect his right to love a man.

Loggerhead by Dale Lowry

Soon after they fall in love, Jake makes Eric a promise inspired by an old track uniform. But demanding work schedules at Jake’s four-star restaurant and Eric’s newspaper keep them from following through. Six years later, they take the honeymoon they never had, heading to the Florida coast in search of sea turtles – and rekindling their passion for each other in the process.

Handyman by Jodi Payne

Danny is haunted by memories of his ex, Peter, who moved out six months ago. He recognizes just how bad off he is when he wakes up to a flood in his condo, a problem Peter would have adeptly handled. Danny can’t find the insurance paperwork, he doesn’t know who he should call first, and he’s about ready to strangle his stoner neighbors. His day starts looking up, though, when the workmen arrive to deal with the water, replace his breaker box and demolish the soaked ceiling. Ken, a handyman, shows up to handle the drywall, but can Danny handle Ken?

Clipped Wings by Shiloh Saddler

When a male swan shifter is captured by a cruel master he develops feelings for another male slave. The master has plans for the shifter that go against every fiber of his being. Will the two men bow down to their station in life or take flight to keep their love alive?

Rebuilding the Future by Sam Thorne

Allen’s peace has been seriously disturbed. As the shy architect takes on the task of extending the home he inherited from his late aunt, his life becomes a battle. The building work is going fine, but he can barely contain his one-way lust for sexy foreman Declan, who’s a one-man generator of testosterone and mixed messages. As the build completion approaches, Allen’s ready to do just about anything to keep Declan around a little longer…

Man in the Mirror by A.E. Wasp

A companion story to the Paper Hearts novel, Man in the Mirror is the first short in a new erotic series set in the world of the Veterans Affairs books.

Benny hasn’t let Mikey see him naked in a week, will barely let Mikey touch him. Mikey’s going to get to the bottom of the issue if it takes all night.

Where to Buy

Universal link (includes Amazon, Kobo, iTunes, B&N, and Google in every country):

Individual links:

Author Links

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COVER REVEAL: Runaway by Nic Starr

Releasing a new cover is always a thrill. There’s something special about sharing the visual representation of a book – all the blood, sweat and tears, that have turned into a tangible thing!

Runaway is part of the Dreamspinner Press World of Love collection. Hopefully, the cover gives enough of a hint as to the location of the story. 🙂

The beautiful cover is by L.C. Chase.

Happy reading,

Nic xx

Blurb

Dr Nathan Powell is ready to settle down near his family, and hopefully find the man of his dreams. He returns to the small coastal town where he grew up, but while life is simpler than it was in the city, there are also complications—like patients’ reactions to an openly gay doctor. And like running into Nate’s first love, Damien, an out-and-proud local business owner who is unwilling to be any man’s dirty secret. The reunion reignites old desire even while it stirs up Nate’s guilt over the way things ended with Damien.

When Nate’s nephew runs away, Damien accompanies Nate on his mission to find the young man. The drive to Sydney, and the search of the city, gives Nate time to reconnect with Damien—and to wonder if he made the right decision years ago—when he determined a future for them was impossible. Is a fresh start realistic for two men in their forties? But before he can ponder the second chance they’ve been given, Nate must locate his nephew.

World of Love: Stories of romance that span every corner of the globe.

Cover Artist: L.C. Chase

Release Date: 12th April 2017

Length: 86 pages

Pre-Order Link

Dreamspinner Press – available for Pre-Order

 

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RELEASE DAY: Best Gay Erotica of the Year Vol 2: Warlords & Warriors

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Blurb

Enter a world of definitive men: strong-bodied, animalistic creatures consumed by immediate desires. Within this collection of the hottest gay erotica of the year, you’ll meet commanding Roman legionnaires, dashing Britannic thieves, lithe Egyptian royal guards and ice-impervious Vikings who fight for what they want – to fully conquer other men, both on the battlefield and in their beds. From stories of men who inhabit sweeping vistas, to those in landscapes lost to the ravages of time, to tales of wanderers who will do anything to fulfill their overbearing need to feel one male body against another, the adventure and eroticism of the Best Gay Erotica of the Year, Volume 2: Warlords & Warriors anthology will leave you reveling and ready for more.

Buy Links

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About Rob Rosen

Rob Rosen (www.therobrosen.com), award-winning author of the novels Sparkle: The Queerest Book You’ll Ever Love, Divas Las Vegas, Hot Lava, Southern Fried, Queerwolf, Vamp, Queens of the Apocalypse, Creature Comfort, Fate, and Midlife Crisis, and editor of the anthologies Lust in Time, Men of the Manor, Best Gay Erotica 2015, and Best Gay Erotica of the Year, Volumes 1 and 2, has had short stories featured in more than 200 anthologies.

 

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RELEASE BLITZ: Romancing the Wrong Twin by Clare London

Clare London – Romancing The Wrong Twin

Author: Clare London
 
Release Date: November 1 2016
 
Length: 59,000 words
 
 
Blurb
 
How tangled can a romantic web get?When gruff mountaineer Dominic Hartington-George seeks sponsorship for his latest expedition, his London PA insists on a more media-friendly profile—like dating celebrity supermodel Zeb Z.

Zeb can’t make the date, so he asks his identical twin, Aidan, to stand in for just one evening. Aidan, a struggling playwright, shuns the limelight to the extent people don’t even know Zeb has a sibling, but he reluctantly agrees.

When the deception has to continue beyond the first date, Aidan fights to keep up the pretense. Dominic likes his sassy, intelligent companion, and Aidan starts falling for the forthright explorer. But how long can Aidan’s conscience cope as confusion abounds? Will coming clean as “the other twin” destroy the trust they’ve built?

 
Excerpt
 

The pretty young woman who met Aidan at the door smiled warmly. “I’m Tanya, Mr. Hartington-George’s personal assistant. I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Z. I’m quite a fan.”
“Zeb,” Aidan said, hoping he hadn’t hesitated for too long. “Please just call me Zeb. And… yes. Thanks.”
“Come on through.” She gestured him into the hallway. “You’re on time.”
Aidan wondered why she sounded surprised at that. He repitched his natural voice a little higher to Zeb’s teasing tone and smiled brightly in return. “Of course.”
A sneaked look in the hallway mirror had him rolling his eyes. Mission accomplished, Zeb! He barely recognized himself. Usually he was most comfortable in a sweatshirt and jeans, but now he was dressed in what Zeb Z would wear on a daily basis: a pair of skintight, distressed-denim jeans with inexplicable splits across the knees; high-top boots in soft purple leather that screamed expensive yet were surprisingly comfortable; and two lightweight T-shirts under an off-the-shoulder, electric blue sweater. Admittedly the blue brought out the color of his eyes—no one ever said Zeb didn’t have a well-developed sense of personal style—but the rest of it made him look like an overaged member of a boy band.
A younger man darted out from what must have been the living room, clutching a leather jacket to his chest as if in protection. He saw Aidan, glanced at Tanya with widening eyes, then back at Aidan. Then he thrust out his hand and said perfectly cheerily, “I’m Eric. He threatens to kill me on a daily basis.”
Aidan just shook hands and nodded. He had no idea what to say to that, or even what it meant.
Tanya frowned at Eric. “Whatever. We’re just going. The car will come for you at seven. In the meantime, if you’d like a drink?”
But Eric took her arm and guided her toward the front door. “They can cope with that themselves, Tanya. Come on.”
And Aidan was left on his own in the hallway.
He took a deep breath to center himself. The house wasn’t huge, but it was in a very fashionable area of Ladbroke Grove and far more luxurious than his own small flat. That said, there wasn’t much furniture and the decoration wasn’t modern. The hallway walls were painted in plain, cool colors. No pictures hung on the walls, and there was only a single bureau and hat stand, albeit in quality wood. Eric had left the living room door ajar behind him, and Aidan took a quick peek inside before announcing himself. From what he could see, again the walls were plain and the furniture sparse. It was as if the owner was in the process of moving out—or had never really settled in.
A male figure paused in front of the half-open door. He was distracted by something on the other side of the room, so Aidan got a first secret glimpse of the man he’d been told so much about.
H-G.
He was much more handsome in real life than on TV, though in most of the documentaries, H-G was wrapped up in furry parkas or oilskins with his face more than half-hidden with a scarf and balaclava. Today he was wearing a very smart pair of dark trousers, a startlingly white dress shirt—which had to be brand-new to still have that sheen—and a well-cut suit jacket that settled comfortably across an impressive set of shoulders. H-G’s hair was a fabulous thatch of dark curls, and he had a dark beard and mustache to match. Guiltily Aidan recalled Zeb’s mischievous nickname: Hairy Guy. But that conjured up a Wild Man of Borneo kind of image, and H-G was far from that. The hair was naturally unruly but had been styled to a level just off his shoulders, and the beard was well trimmed.
Aidan had never been attracted to hairy bears, not that he’d ever had much of a choice. As Zeb had gleefully pointed out more than once, Aidan seemed to attract needy and spiteful wankers who got off on bleeding him dry of any compassion and care. Oh, and his money too.
Okay. Self-pity over, right now. I’m not Loser Aidan now. I’m the charismatic and disgustingly fascinating Zeb Z.
For the first time in this bizarre performance, Aidan felt the tickle of mischief. This just might be fun after all. He pushed the door fully open, walked into the room, and cleared his throat.
H-G turned slowly around to face Aidan fully. His gaze ranged over Aidan’s body, and his eyes widened. “Well. They didn’t lie.”
“Who didn’t? What about?”
H-G raised his eyebrows. “Well, firstly, they said you were a bit feisty.”
Feisty? Aidan hadn’t heard that word outside of romance-novel blurbs.
“And you wouldn’t be fazed by… you know.”
“No, I don’t know. By what?” Aidan bit his lip to stop a laugh escaping.
“My celebrity.”
Jesus. Zeb was right. The man was one big blob of arrogance. “No,” Aidan said coolly. “I’m not.”
“That’s from working in the business, I suppose.”
“Business?” Oh, right, he was meant to be Zeb. “Yes, of course. When you’ve seen so many guys without the spray tan and makeup,” he gabbled without thinking first, “you soon realize they’ve got the same equipment under it all.”
H-G blinked twice, hard. And then he laughed—a loud, bold sound, echoing warmly in the bleak room.
Aidan wanted to laugh with him, but maintained his cool stare. “What’s so funny?” Had he blown it already? He hadn’t even left the house with the man yet.
“They didn’t tell me you were witty, Zeb. I may call you Zeb?”
Why? “Oh yes, right. Of course.”
Dom’s language was quaintly old-fashioned, but Aidan found it rather charming, especially after the theatrical bickering of the Dreamweavers and his brother’s exuberant and affected chatter.
“And secondly?” Aidan prompted.
“I’m sorry?” H-G frowned at him.
God, what a scowl he has. “You said they didn’t lie, and then you gave the first reason.”
H-G raised his eyebrows. “You have a good memory.”
Yes, he does have lovely eyes. “Yes, I do. Especially when I’m listening.”
H-G’s mouth twisted as if he were trying not to smirk. “Secondly, they didn’t lie about your looks, and that you were even better-looking in real life. I concur. You’re bloody gorgeous.”

 
Author Bio


Clare London took her pen name from the city where she lives, loves, and writes. A lone, brave female in a frenetic, testosterone-fuelled family home, she juggles her writing with her other day job as an accountant.


She’s written in many genres and across many settings, with award-winning novels and short stories published both online and in print. She says she likes variety in her writing while friends say she’s just fickle, but as long as both theories spawn good fiction, she’s happy. Most of her work features male/male romance and drama with a healthy serving of physical passion, as she enjoys both reading and writing about strong, sympathetic, and sexy characters. 


Clare currently has several novels sulking at that tricky chapter three stage and plenty of other projects in mind… she just has to find out where she left them in that frenetic, testosterone-fuelled family home. 

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CHARITY ANTHOLOGY: Changing on the Fly

M/M Charity Hockey Romance Anthology

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Buy Links

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Blurb

Changing on the Fly is a celebration of romance, featuring six M/M stories about hockey players falling in love on – and off – the ice. All proceeds from the anthology will be donated to a charity that supports inclusiveness in athletics.

The anthology will be available starting in October, 2016, for a limited time only.

It includes the following stories:

Even Strength by Cherylanne Corneille
Next Season by Avon Gale
Going Home by Heather Lire
On Broadway by V.L. Locey
The Brother and the Retired Player by Mary Smith
Take a Shot by Samantha Wayland

Exclusive Excerpt From On Broadway

           “So you’ve lived in the Bronx all your life?” I enquired, eyes on the traffic lights or the passing cars. The interior of the cab had a subtle scent of onion.
            “Born and raised. I got to say you got one funny accent, Riley,” the cabby chuckled.
            “Yeah, I guess so,” I replied with a smile. I mentally drifted away from the man after that point, making noises when needed at a lull in his talking. We passed Radio City Music Hall. I sat up and watched the famous theater drop behind us. “Let me out here.”
            The driver threw a concerned look at me in the rearview mirror. “You sure, Riley? It’s colder than my mother-in-law’s heart out there.”
            “I’m sure,” I replied as I began to open the door. The driver pulled over as closely as he could get to the curb. I jumped out after giving him his fare and a hefty tip. “Thanks, Joe.” I slammed the door then jogged to Rockefeller Center, anticipation building inside my chest.
            Since it was only eight at night, adults and kids covered the ice. I slid into the spot where I had stood with Otto a couple mornings go, my gaze touching on every person down there. “Shit,” I whispered when I failed to find Skating Fabio among the throngs. I lifted my sight to the spot where the massive fir tree had stood. It was gone now. That made my mood a little darker. I was confused about my actions tonight. I was also worried about how deeply I had hoped to catch a glimpse of my mystery man. I spun from the well-lit rink, the sounds of laughter and music bouncing off the buildings that looked down on us. What the fuck was I doing here on my one night off? Why wasn’t I at home enjoying the loft that had set me back a cool two million bucks last year? Better yet, why wasn’t I spending the night at a discreet club or bar looking for someone to share that big, empty, well-decorated loft with?
            Someone tapped my shoulder. My gaze flew to the left. Joe the cabbie stood beside me, his mottled cheeks glowing red from the cold.
            “You okay, Riley?”
            The concern in his eyes touched me. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. I just wanted to peek at the rink. Reminds me of my days back in Minnesota, you know?”
            “Oh yeah, sure, I can see that.” Joe gave me a weak smile. “So you done looking now? You want a lift back to your place, maybe?”
            “Thanks, yeah, I need to go home.”
            Joe and I walked off side by side, my hands crammed under my armpits and my thoughts on just how pathetic I truly was. Here was Riley Zeally, the golden child of the league, famous, rich, skilled, not terrible looking, and healthy spending the night with a strange cabbie while searching for some mysterious golden-haired puck pusher. With so many people in New York, you would think no one here would ever be lonely.
            “9th Avenue, Gramercy,” I told Joe when we were both back in his onion-scented ride.
            “Got it,” he replied then began telling me about a road trip to Minnesota he took twenty years ago. Ice fishing with some buddies, he tacked on. I nodded. My attention drifted after a minute or two. Instead of watching the traffic lights or cars, I tried to gaze at the people crossing in front of us at stoplights. They all hustled along without looking left or right. That indifferent and outwardly cold demeanor many Manhattanites moved through life with still set me back on my heels at times. Folks in Sugar Lake never ignored anyone. If you saw someone on the street, you waved or stopped to chat. You didn’t just walk past with a cell phone to your ear. I closed my eyes. My mood was growing more and more dismal with every city block. I missed Minnesota. I missed the family farm, my parents, and my sister. I missed knowing that the people around me loved me for just being Riley. They weren’t after me because of the big contract or the fame.
            “Fucking shithead,” Joe snarled and mashed the brakes. The seatbelt snapped painfully across my chest. My eyes flew open just in time to see Skating Fabio standing in the middle of Park Avenue, his left hand on the hood of Joe’s cab. “What kind of moron are you? Don’t you got no idea of what the fucking crosswalks are for?”
            “No shit,” I whispered and began frantically fighting with the seatbelt. 

Additional Excerpts

V.L. Locey’s On Broadway:

“You’re about as far from being just a guy as I am from being able to play “Rocket Man” on harmonica.”

“Is that the song your mom named you after?” I fell back to the bed, feet dangling to the floor and hands clasped behind my head.

“Good guess.” He appeared behind me after a moment. I tipped my head back to look at him. His green eyes were darker now, smoky jade and hot with desire. “You’re really sexy in a Toby McGuire Spider-Man kind of way.”

“I don’t have any superpowers,” I replied as he leaned over and placed his hands on either side of my head.

“Not true,” Rocket whispered before covering my mouth with his. My eyes drifted shut as my fingers knotted up the bedding. His mouth was hot and wet, his tongue skilled, his taste a subtle blend of Korean buffet. “You’re Riley Zeally,” he murmured between nibbling kisses that made my heart pump faster, “the face of professional hockey.”

I reached up from the duvet to push my fingers into his hair. “I want you,” I panted between his short, maddening sweeps of my mouth.

Samantha Wayland’s Take a Shot:

 “There already is someone who loves to spend time with you, who loves hockey and your friends and their ridiculous pranks. Who gets that you have to travel and that you’re tired!”

Tim blinked, appearing utterly bewildered. “Who?”

“Me, you asshole! Me.”

Tim threw his hands in the air. “What about you?”

“I appreciate you exactly as you are. I love our life. Our friends. You. Even the super fucking irritating things, because apparently there is something wrong with me. I love that you can’t hide what you’re feeling, almost ever. And that you say what you’re thinking, even when I can’t do the same. I like living with you, a fucking neat-freak nudist, and working with you, and there’s never been a time, not once, that I was tired of being around you. You’re gorgeous and you’re kind and you’re the best person I know. So shut up about there not being someone who can appreciate everything about you. There already is. And unfortunately for you, it’s me.”

Heather Lire’s Going Home

“What the fuck, man?” Blake growled at Dex.

“What?” he asked, innocently. Too innocently. “I was just making conversation with an old friend from high school. One who helped both of us graduate.”

If he’d known when he started this trip down memory lane that he’d be running into the person who’d had a staring roll in the epic disaster that had been his last night in town, he’d never have started it. Micah had also held a staring roll in every single one of his sexual fantasies back then as well.

“Fuck you, Dex.”

“Think about it like this…this is a new start for both of us. A chance to fix the things in our lives that we fucked up. Me with my career and you with Micah.”

Cherylanne Corneille’s Even Strength

He took a few laps around their end of the rink to loosen his legs. On his fourth pass around the net, he picked up a stray puck and carried it on his stick before shooting it into the net. Boone bumped his shoulder and nodded toward the glass as they rounded their end of the rink again.

What the hell? He glanced in the direction his teammate indicated. Two men around his age wearing New York’s jerseys held up a brightly colored sign that said simply, “Thank you, Nate.” He puzzled on the meaning until he made another lap. One of them also held a small rainbow flag.

Mary Smith’s The Brother and the Retired Player

Our lips touch, and the spark is struck. He pulls me closer and grips my hips. I can feel his hardness already, and my dick twitches at the contact. Our kiss intensifies as our tongues touch. I hold him closer, and the light scruff of his pale beard tickles me. I never want to leave this spot, but finally, I pull back.

Avon Gale’s Next Season

Nick stopped as Sparrow went to get into his Escalade, which he’d somehow remote started the second they got out of the building. Nick drove a 2002 Ford Focus and was lucky if it started when the key was in the ignition.

“So, uh,” Nick said, not wanting to just walk off but still as uncertain as he’d been in the locker room about what to say. “See you in Philly, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Sparrow muttered, yanking the door to his luxury SUV open with too much force. “See you in Philly, kid.”

Nick managed to get his own car door open, grabbed his ice scraper, and turned the car on so he could blast the heat. He watched Sparrow drive away, leaving tire tracks in the snow.

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

V.L. Locey

V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a flock of assorted domestic fowl, and two Jersey steers.

When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand. She can also be found online on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and GoodReads.

Website: http://vlloceyauthor.com/

Avon Gale

Avon Gale was once the mayor on Foursquare of Jazzercise and Lollicup, which should tell you all you need to know about her as a person. She likes road trips, rock concerts, drinking Kentucky bourbon and yelling at hockey. She’s a displaced southerner living in a liberal midwestern college town, and she never gets tired of people and their stories — either real or the ones she makes up in her head.

Website: https://www.avongalewrites.com/

Cherylanne Corneille

Cherylanne Corneille has been writing almost as long as she has loved the game of hockey, so it was inevitable that she would eventually combine two of her favorite pastimes into one hobby. She will watch almost any game but prefers to cheer on the Carolina Hurricanes, Anaheim Ducks, Tampa Bay Lightning, and Tyler Seguin.

When not writing or watching hockey, she enjoys running and has completed 18 half marathons.  She also loves Stars Wars, Lord of the Rings, and Captain America.

Cherylanne lives in Central Florida with her cat, who was almost called Puck or Hanifin but sometimes answers to the name Phasma.

Website: https://cacorneille.wordpress.com/

Heather Lire

Heather has traveled all over the world, speaks several languages, collects romance books like they’re going out of style, and has multiple book boyfriends. Ok, she hasn’t been all over the world, except in her mind. She does however speak multiple languages and collect romance books. Her long-suffering husband and sons roll their eyes at all her book boyfriends. When she’s not busy on her next novel she can be found in her classroom where teaches one of those many languages, at one of her sons many sporting events or on twitter talking about what else, romance books.

Website: http://heatherlire.com/

Samantha Wayland

Samantha Wayland has three great loves in life; her family, writing books, and hockey. She is often found apologizing to the first for how much time and attention is taken up by the latter two, but they forgive her because they are awesome and she clearly doesn’t deserve them.

Sam lives with her family—of both the two and four-legged variety—outside of Boston. When she’s not locked away in her home office, she can generally be found tucked in the corner of the local Thai place with other socially-starved authors and an adult beverage. Her favorite things include mango martinis, tiny Chihuahuas with big attitude problems, and the Oxford comma.

Website: http://www.samanthawayland.com/

Mary Smith

Best Selling Author, Mary Smith, has been coming up with stories her whole life. She has written A HOCKEY TUTOR and THE NEW HAMPSHIRE BEARS SERIES along with numerous other titles, as well as co-authored THE PENALTY KILL TRILOGY, OH CAPTAIN, MY CAPTAIN SERIES, and THE NINTH INNINGS SERIES with Lindsay Paige. When not busy writing or rooting for the Chicago Blackhawks you can find her with her nose stuck in her Kindle.

Website: http://www.authormarysmith.com/

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EXCERPT & GIVEAWAY: Sebastian & Owen by Nic Starr

Sebastian & Owen is part of the MLR Press Storming Love: Tsunami series. Three authors were asked to write a story, each story with its own characters and setting, but centered around the same tsunami event. The result is three books, set in Australia and New Zealand, that bring together romance and a natural disaster.

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Owen’s eagerness to win Sebastian back turns to desperation as a tsunami threatens to tear them apart.

The last twelve months have been hard on Owen Hewitt and even tougher on his relationship. For six years, Sebastian Carmichael has been the love of his life, but that love is put to the test as Owen sinks into injury-induced depression.

Living with chronic pain and unable to do the things he used to do makes him feel like a failure, and causes him to believe he’s holding the younger Sebastian back.

When Sebastian takes some time out and leaves to stay at their holiday house, it could spell the end of the relationship. But as a tsunami bears down on the Tasmanian coast, it could spell the end of everything.

Excerpt

“How are you getting on with Sebastian not being there?” Matt cut straight to the chase.

“I’m fine,” Owen said automatically. “Hey, how’d you know about that?”

There was silence for a moment before Matt answered. “Seb called me. Told me a bit about what happened.”

“He asked you to check up on me, didn’t he?”

“Maybe. Listen, he’s just worried about you too. I know you guys had an argument —”

“An argument? More like arguments plural.”

“He just wants what’s best for you, Owen.”

Owen’s chest grew tight. “I know.”

“I hope you don’t mind me butting in —”

“It’s a bit late to stop you now,” Owen said, the sarcasm heavy in his tone, “so go right ahead.”

Matt didn’t wait for further permission and showed no reluctance in saying what he wanted to say. “I’ve known you guys since you first met. I don’t think I’ve ever met a couple more suited to each other. Fuck, I’m totally jealous of the two of you, but you’ve got to get it together, mate.”

Owen sat up straighter. “Now wait a minute. There are two sides to every story. How do you know I’m the one with the problem?”

Matt huffed into the phone. “You’re right. I’m sure things aren’t perfect and you both have your faults, but even I’ve seen you pushing Sebastian away.”

“What?” Owen gripped the handset tightly, conscious his voice had risen an octave.

“I don’t think you even realise you’re doing it, or maybe you do, but for some reason you keep voicing doubts Seb doesn’t even have, sabotaging your own relationship. It’s like you want him to leave you.”

Owen glanced at the empty side of the bed, a hollow feeling in his stomach, suddenly feeling that perhaps it would be good to speak to somebody. “Maybe he’d be better off without me.” Through a tight throat, Owen finally voiced the thought that had been plaguing him for months.

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MLR Press

Release date: 7th October 2016

Length: Novella

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The Storming Love: Tsunami Collection

Joshua & Blair by Pelaam (#1)

Max & Rob by Jenn Dease (#2)

Sebastian & Owen by Nic Starr (#3)

 

 

 

 

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BOOK BLAST! Love is Love Anthology

A collection of poems composed by over fifty authors

in aid of the victims and survivors of the Orlando Pulse Attack.

 

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On June 12, 2016, the most horrendous mass shooting in US history and an unfathomable act of hate was directed at the LGBT community in Orlando. The horror of this tragedy reverberated around the world, leaving millions shocked and appalled at the senseless violence that destroyed so many innocent lives.

In a display of solidarity with the victims and survivors of the Pulse nightclub shooting, a group of LGBTQ+ and straight allies, from all across the globe, came together to produce a collection of poems in celebration of love and acceptance.

The resulting Love is Love Poetry Anthology is dedicated to the families and victims of the shooting and all proceeds of this work will be donated to Equality Florida’s Pulse Victims Fund.

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In this small way, the authors, along with the readers who purchase this work, seek to contribute to the lives of those who still suffer from the consequences of the malice directed toward them, and offer some positivity and compassion in the face of such bigotry.

Contributing Authors:

AC Benus, Aditus, Andrew Jericho, Ann Anderson, Ash Marie, Asta Idonea, Betti Gefecht, Cam Kennedy, Cynus Eldranai, Darren White, dughlas, Eddy LeFey, Eden Winters, EmiGS Em, F.E. Feeley Jr., Gelybi , Headstall, Jack L. Pyke, Jana Denardo, Jason Frazier, Jay Rookwood, J.L. Merrow, Karina Rye, Kathy Griffith, Kay Ellis, Kaye P. Hallows, Kit Loffstadt, Laura B. Damone, Layla Dorine, Lily G. Blunt, L.J. Harris, L.M. Somerton, Louis Stevens, L.S.K Harris, L.V. Lloyd, Lynn Michaels, Maggie Chatterton, Maria Siopis, Monika De Giorgi, Parker Owens, Patricia Nelson, Pelaam, Petra Howard, Ravyn Bryce, Rick R. Reed, Ruski, Valik and Addy, S.J. Davis, Skylar M. Cates, Star Brady, Steve Baldry, Susan Crane, Tamara Miles, Tash Hatzipetrou, Tim Landon, Tracy Gee, Vicki Tubridy, Victoria Kinnaird, and Wendy Rathbone.

 

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Sincere thanks go to everyone who contributed their time, energy, and skills in the making of this beautiful anthology.

Special thanks also go to Jay Aheer (Simply Defined Art) for the fabulous cover art,

Kelly O’Brien for the ‘Love Wins’ artwork,

and Petra Howard and Tash Hatzipetrou for proofreading the final document.

 

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Many thanks to Kelly O’Brien for contributing the

“Love Wins’ artwork.

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GUEST POST: Herc and Pyotr by Atom Yang

Herc & Pyotr COVER

Blurb

Herc thought he had the perfect life: a great partner and a meaningful career as a psychotherapist—until his partner left him a week ago and Herc became too depressed to see his clients. When a random meteorite punched a tidy hole in his car’s engine, it seemed like the world had it in for him, but bumping into Pyotr, the handsome older man who’s moved in a couple of doors down and happens to study things like falling stars, things might be looking up for Herc—and more may be falling than the skies in this light-hearted, apocalyptic romance.

Guest Post – Oh, for Namesake!

In high school, I remember learning how James Joyce named his protagonist in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man “Stephen Dedalus,” after the mythological hero Daedalus—a brilliant inventor who created wings to escape a labyrinth with his son, Icarus, who didn’t fare as well as his father because he flew too close to the sun and melted his wings, leading him to fall to his death. Joyce’s previous choice for a surname had been “Hero.”

This had a huge influence on me, as I had been asked since I could answer about my real name by people who assumed that my name in English was some pseudonym (trust me, it isn’t and it’s on my birth certificate), and that I had a Chinese name full of deep meaning compared to their names which they believed had long become devoid of any meaning. Even if “Christopher” meant “Christ-Bearer,” my Western friends were more likely to have been given the name because their parents liked it, or maybe a relative had it (so it had sentimental but not etymological meaning).

It seems funny that their fascination with my Chinese name (which is Romanized and used as my middle name) probably made a few of them decide to tattoo their bodies with Chinese characters in some grammatically incorrect way in their adulthood, because it had more meaning than the English word for “peace.” Or it looked cooler (I think the word is actually exotic.)

Anyway, my point is that, after having been asked what my name(s) meant, or why I was given my English name, it was refreshing to see someone like James Joyce of the Western canon pay attention to the importance of names in his stories, and the act of naming as a novelist.

When I wrote my latest book, Herc & Pyotr, I picked names that would resonate with fans of disaster movies, as the story took place within MLR Press’s Storming Love series of disaster romances.

Knowing that I’d have to write about meteors made my mind jump immediately to that lovely piece of cinema known as Meteor (released in 1979 and a co-production of American International Pictures and the legendary Shaw Brothers of Hong Kong)—the two missile systems used to destroy the eponymous meteor were called Hercules (United States) and Peter the Great (USSR). Incidentally, the movie was inspired by research at MIT (Massachusetts Institute of Technology) about meteors hitting Earth called “Project Icarus,” because asteroids and such can be pulled into the sun’s orbit, and on their way down, crash into planets like ours. Even scientists have a flare for mythological nomenclature.

In my story, I did go with the Russian spelling of Pyotr in English (did that make sense?), and shortened Hercules’ name, which I think makes it more fun for readers who enjoy discovering “Easter eggs” or hidden references in a story (and there are plenty in my work). See if you catch the nod to U2’s song, “Until the End of the World,” from Wim Wenders’s film, Until the End of the World.

The other notable appellation in Herc & Pyotr is Nestori. It’s the Finnish version of “Nestor,” who was one of Hercules’ best friends. With Nestori named, and the inclusion of a Russian-American character, it wasn’t long before I decided on the cultural context for my story, and after much research and interviewing, I learned a lot about Finnish, Swedish, and Russian culture, especially how they adapted to being in the States.

Names have magic, and so does the act of naming. When I write, I never take lightly what I and my readers will call the characters, because I want the experience of my stories to be encompassing and meaningful, from the punctuation on the page to the name of each person.

I had a writing teacher once accuse me of being a puzzle-maker like Joyce and not like her hero and master of minimalism, Raymond Carver, who was straightforward. I’d like to think that my stories work on different levels, and of myself as a wrapper of gifts rather than a creator of mazes. However, even if I were to create mazes, riddles, and puzzles—I seem to remember those things as being fun.

And “Raymond” means “King of the World.” Add that to “Carver” and you have a really interesting name!

Excerpt

Chapter One

I took care of my car.

Regular maintenance, oil changes, carwashes–the works. I figured I’d sell it one day, and I didn’t want it to have a scratch or a sticker to drop its value, let alone anything wrong mechanically. Everything worked on it–the power windows, radio, CD player…until today.

“Great,” I said, staring at the fist-sized hole in the hood. I clicked my key fob and turned off the alarm. A few of the neighbors came out and turned off their car alarms, too, that had been set off by the very loud boom that shook all of our windows early this spring morning.

“Jeez, Herc, what happened?” Nestori, my friend and neighbor down the way, stood there with his blond bed head, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He wore a rumpled white tee, sweatpants, and socks–we were dressed alike except I had slippers. Maybe I appeared as lost as he did. Or worse, since I hadn’t changed my clothes since the beginning of the week.

“I don’t know.” I gawked at the smoking hole. “Lightning?” I pieced together the evidence I had, and only came up with a timeline that started with a crash, followed by my car alarm, then a couple of minutes later the aforementioned boom, and finally the other cars being triggered. “A frozen turd from an airplane?”

“Are you serious? Holy shit.”

“Ha ha.”

“What?” His golden eyebrows crinkled together, and then he grinned. “Oh.”

“To be fair, it did fall from the sky.” Everybody huddled closer to peer into the puncture. “I don’t know. I don’t even know who I should call about this.”

“What about Jason?”

Nestori’s innocent question should’ve felt like a sucker punch, but the numbness from seeing my killed car protected me. “He left last week. We’re not together anymore.”

“Bro. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Because you would’ve wanted to get me drunk and laid.

“I would’ve totally come over with a bottle of Jack and helped you get some D, man.”

“So that’s why I haven’t seen him jogging for a while.” Pihla, the widow who lived across the street, had the perkiest personality–and breasts–in our neighborhood. “I thought he left on a business trip.” She wore a pink satin robe over a pink nightie with matching pink slippers. A small, thin, gold cross on a gold chain stuck out sideways from her cleavage and wobbled back and forth, unable to rest flat. Her son, Sami, clung to her leg, his head just above her knee, avoiding eye contact like some toddlers do. This suburban Madonna in pink held a mug of expensive coffee I could smell and envy from where I stood, and rested her French manicured hand on her shy boy’s head. By the way she had batted her eyes at Jason during block parties, or how she happened to pick up the morning paper from her driveway when he’d jog past, I always thought she had a crush on my partner.

Ex. I meant ex-partner.

“Yeah, he didn’t leave on a business trip. He just left me.” I wondered if I died inside my home from choking on a chicken bone while eating, single and alone, how long it would take for my neighbors to notice my dead, bachelor body. I thought I smelled something funny, one would say a week later. Jeez, what happened? another would ask. Who the hell cares? my ghost would spell out on a Ouija board, life sucks.

“Meteorite,” said a faintly accented voice from the crowd. Slavic, I would guess.

“Whoa! You think a meteor hit Herc’s car?” Nestori asked. “How do you know?”

Meteorite,” the voice gently corrected. “It’s a meteorite when it lands. I saw everything as I was jogging this morning.”

“Meteorite,” I mumbled. My geek brain fetched a personal wiki page from when I wrote a report in sixth grade about asteroids crashing into Earth and destroying all life, because I’ve always been a cheery person. The word disaster” comes from the Italian disastro, meaning “ill-starred event.”

Why couldn’t it have been a pretty shooting star that vaporized all sparkly in the atmosphere, so I could make a wish? Instead, it’d dropped a deuce on my perfectly maintained car.

The hole in the hood gaped back at me, and I thought about the day Jason left. He had requested I park on the street instead of in the garage, so he’d be able to get his things out of the house without too much trouble.

I should make a wish anyway.

Something realistic, not like true love and a happy-ever-after ending with a handsome, emotionally intelligent man, because that obviously doesn’t happen. How about a nice pair of shoes? Good shoes are more reliable than men.

“I’m sorry this happened,” the voice said, this time to my left. “There have been worldwide reports of meteor strikes over the past few weeks.”

I turned and came eye to eye with the concerned face of a middle-aged man only slightly taller than me. He wore a red baseball cap and his black hair, lined with a few strands of gray, escaped his hat around his ears and a little over his forehead. His color-coordinated stubble, speckled with silver, defined a square jaw and framed full lips. Perspiration darkened his loose, gray shirt, forming something like a Rorschach inkblot in the center of his defined chest. Despite the smell of engine oil and gasoline coming from my mortally wounded car, the scent of his clean sweat cut through and woke me from my daze.

“Hi, I’m Pyotr. I moved here last week.” He offered me a firm handshake and a smile, and returned to surveying the damage to my car, his hands on his hips. “You should probably call your insurance and not your ex. I work from home a few days a week, so if you need a ride, let me know? I live down the street.” He started running lightly in place. His feet were bare, which I hadn’t noticed.

“Thanks for the offer…Pee-yo-ter. I may take you up on it.”

“Please do.” Pyotr smiled again, nodded a succinct farewell, and trotted off.

“Yeah, if you need a ride…” Nestori and a few neighbors offered, but I didn’t pay attention.

I was busy making an unrealistic wish. And it wasn’t for shoes.

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About the Author

Atom Yang PICAtom was born to Chinese immigrant parents who thought it’d be a hoot to raise him as an immigrant, too–so he grew up estranged in a familiar land, which gives him an interesting perspective. He’s named after a Japanese manga (comic book) character, in case you were wondering.

SOCIAL MEDIA:

Website: http://AtomYang.com (Facebook author page)

Twitter: http://twitter.com/MightyAtomYang

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Instagram: http://instagram.com/MightyAtomYang

YouTube: http://bit.ly/1YbAvIn

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GUEST POST & GIVEAWAY: First Comes Marriage by Shira Anthony

First Comes Marriage by Shira Anthony

First Comes Marriage Cover

Buylinks: Dreamspinner: Amazon: All Romance: Barnes & Noble

Thank you, Because Two Men, for hosting the First Comes Marriage book tour! For those readers who may not already know, First Comes Marriage is the second book in the brand new Dreamspun Desires line of gay category romances from Dreamspinner Press. Be sure to read to the bottom of the post for an excerpt from the book, as well as the Rafflecopter giveaway. You could win a dozen red roses for your sweetheart or yourself!

First Comes Marriage is available from Dreamspinner Press! You can buy it alone, or you can subscribe to the Dreamspun Desires line and get two books a month at a significant discount (ebook and paperback). Read down for an excerpt and don’t forget to enter the giveaway! –Shira

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Blurb:

Their marriage was supposed to be all business….

When struggling novelist Chris Valentine meets Jesse Donovan, he’s interested in a book contract, or possibly a date. The last thing Chris expects is a marriage proposal from New York City’s most eligible bachelor!

Jesse’s in a pinch. To keep control of his company, he has to marry. So he has valid reasons for offering Chris this business deal: in exchange for living in a gorgeous mansion for a year, playing the doting husband, Chris gets all the writing time he wants and walks away with a million-dollar payoff. Surely Chris can handle that. He can handle living with the most handsome and endearing man he’s ever met, a man he immediately knows he wants in the worst way and can’t have. Or can he?

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Excerpt from Chapter Six:

Now, standing in the conference room of Windview Enterprises’ corporate headquarters near South Ferry in Manhattan, one of the matching platinum bands Jesse had bought for them in his pants pocket, Chris wondered if he’d wake up from the dream. The floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over Wall Street and the East River through the forest of high-rise buildings.

“Do you, Jesse Chase Donovan, take Christopher James Valentine to be your husband, in love and in friendship, until you are parted by death?” the judge asked.

“I do.” As Jesse slipped the ring on Chris’s finger, he met Chris’s gaze with such intensity that for an instant, Chris could almost forget the entire ceremony was a ruse to ensure the future of Windview remained firmly in Jesse’s control. Damn the man for being so attractive. Damn him for being a nice guy, because that was the worst part of it. And the part that had you agreeing.

“And do you, Christopher James Valentine, take Jesse Chase Donovan to be your husband, in love and in friendship, until you are parted by death?”

Chris swallowed hard and prayed he didn’t look as incredibly nervous as he felt. “I do.” His hand shook as he took Jesse’s hand and put the ring on his finger.

“Congratulations, Chris and Jesse,” the judge said.

Chris caught Val’s eye for a split second, and he half expected her to urge him to kiss Jesse. But it was Jesse who took charge and blindsided Chris with a kiss.

It started sweetly enough, just Jesse’s lips against his, but instead of releasing Chris, Jesse pulled him tighter against him and pressed his tongue into his mouth. Jesse tasted fucking amazing. Chris didn’t hesitate—their tongues tangled and danced. This close, Jesse smelled good and felt even better. Chris was barely aware of slipping his hands around Jesse’s back before resting them on lean hips. He didn’t think twice as his body and Jesse’s responded in kind.

Someone giggled—Chris recognized Val’s voice—and Jesse pulled abruptly away. Their eyes met for a split second, and Chris thought he saw a mixture of desire and surprise in Jesse’s deep blue eyes. The next thing Chris knew, Val had thrown her arms around him and only his racing heart and tingling lips told him he hadn’t imagined the entire thing.

“Oh, Chris,” Val cooed. “You really did it!”

“Yeah” was the only response Chris could manage. He was still thinking about Jesse’s mouth.

“I guess I was wrong about him being straight,” she whispered mischievously.

Chris was thrilled when Terry grabbed him in a bear hug, because he had no idea how to respond to Val’s comment. He also wasn’t sure if he should be pissed off with Jesse for the show. He supposed if this was going to work, Jesse needed to make the marriage look real. Still, how difficult would it have been to warn Chris that he had that up his sleeve?

~~~~

All about Shira

Shira Anthony is a complete sucker for a happily-ever-after, and rarely reads or writes a story without one. Never a fan of instalove, Shira likes to write stories about real men with real issues making real relationships work.

In her last incarnation, Shira was a professional opera singer, performing roles in such operas as “Tosca,” “Pagliacci,” and “La Traviata,” among others. Her Blue Notes Series is loosely based upon her own experiences as a professional musician.

Shira is married with two children and two insane dogs and when she’s not writing, she is usually in a courtroom trying to make the world safer for children. When she’s not working, she can be found aboard a 36’ catamaran at the Carolina coast with her favorite sexy captain at the wheel. She’s given up TV for evenings spent with her laptop, and she never goes anywhere without a pile of unread M/M romance on her Kindle.

Interested in hearing Shira sing? Here’s a link to a live performance of Shira singing an aria from Puccini’s “Tosca”: http://www.shiraanthony.com/wp-conten…

You can subscribe to Shira’s monthly newsletter for updates, free fiction, and subscriber-only contests here: http://www.shiraanthony.com/newsletter/

~~~~

Where you can find Shira

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/shira.anthony
Goodreads: 
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4641776.Shira_Anthony
Twitter: @WriterShira
Website: 
http://www.shiraanthony.com
E-mail: 
shiraanthony@hotmail.com

~~~~

Giveaway:

First Comes Marriage is all above love and romance, and Shira’s grand prize is a dozen red roses for your sweetheart (or whoever you think deserves it!). First prize is a $10 Dreamspinner Gift Certificate.

Click here to enter the Rafflecopter

~~~~

Blog Tour Information

First Comes Marriage Blog Tour

 

 

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EXCERPT & GIVEAWAY: Men in Uniform Anthology

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Title: Men in Uniform
Authors: Eric Gober, CJ Baty, Alina Popescu, Kassandra Lea, Asta Idonea, Eddy LeFey, Lily Velden, Jim Dunaway, Carol Pedroso, Jo Tannah
Genre:  Gay Romance, Military, Contemporary, Fantasy, Mystery, Science Fiction
Publisher: Wayward Ink Publshing

Synopsis

Like your boys in blue keeping the… peace?

Hot firemen dealing with… heat?

Naval Officers getting in way too… deep?

Perhaps you have a ‘thing’ for marines…

Or do you prefer your Men In Uniform to belong in the future?

Another galaxy?

Another time?

Wherever your love of a uniform leads you, MEN IN UNIFORM has something for you.

Men In Uniform Cover

Excerpt

Issue No. 1 by Eric Gober

Uh oh, the LAPD, America’s baddest badasses. No one was faster than their speeding bullets. Or able to bend their reinforced steel cuffs with bare hands. They tolerated no nonsense from superheroes or Toontown denizens. Superman, Batman, Spiderman, and Yosemite Sam had all been herded off Hollywood Boulevard, absolutely powerless in the force’s Kryptonite shackles. I was certain I was next. They were going to haul me down to the station, where they’d snap pictures while I posed, and I wouldn’t get paid a dime. My poor kisser was going to end up in their humiliating comic book of superhero mug shots. Alphabetically speaking, I’d occupy the panel between Bizarro and Doctor Strange. That sucked. I wanted to be sandwiched between superherodom’s hottest blonds.

“Aquaman and Flash Gordon,” I muttered.

“Oh, poor Cap!” Snow White lamented. “You’re not thinking straight!”

“Move along, folks.”

Whoa, who belonged to that sexy voice? I looked over my shoulder as the crowd around me dispersed. Beyond the batty bongo player, I beheld the most fetching man ever to wear LAPD’s midnight blue. He filled out that stretch-nylon uniform better than Magic Mike could have, his badge gleamed like an Oscar caught in a 20th Century Fox searchlight, and the holstered gun barrel resting stiff on his thigh was much longer than Dirty Harry’s. I eyed the piece cautiously. His chamber was fully loaded and ready to fire, I presumed.

He knelt and gently placed a hand on my uniform. “How are you feeling, buddy?”

I glanced at his golden nametag. “A little foolish, Officer Buck. TMZ’s about to tell the world I got my butt kicked by Cookie Monster.”

“We got a statement from the woman whose phone you saved. What you did was heroic.”

I gazed into his warm gray eyes and sensed he wasn’t being ironic. Then I noticed a deep scar on his left ear. Had a villain gashed him with a knife? I looked away, feeling more foolish. “It was nothing really, compared to what you do. Were you able to catch them?”

Buy Links

Don’t miss WIP’s Christmas Sale – 30% off all titles till December 24th!

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Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/Men-Uniform-Wayward-Publishing-Anthology-ebook/dp/B018VB6HJW/
Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Men-Uniform-Wayward-Publishing-Anthology-ebook/dp/B018VB6HJW/
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Amazon DE: http://www.amazon.de/Men-Uniform-Wayward-Publishing-Anthology-ebook/dp/B018VB6HJW/

Book Trailer

Stories Included

IssueNo.1

Issue No. 1

ERIC GOBER

Come to a land…

Where epic battles rage…

Among monsters, superheroes, and a very sexy cop.

Love and war are funny business in Hollywood, U.S.A.

PinkertonManThe Pinkerton Man

CJ BATY

A blackmailer forced Stiles to leave his perfect life behind.

Along the way, he found a new friend, a job as a Pinkerton Agent, and murder.

Can Stiles find the murderer before he kills again?

ProtectTheExMission: Protect the Ex

ALINA POPESCU

Sean never thought his military career would ever have him babysitting his ex who Sean hasn’t seen in six months.

When best friend Tom finds out his younger brother Aiden is targeted, Sean drops everything to protect the man he still loves.

Can two former lovers survive a weekend alone in the woods, or will the threat from within be more devastating than the one from outside?

SparkInTheShadowsA Spark in the Shadows

KASSANDRA LEA

Love beckons Officer Warden Brooks to the shadows of a desolate place.

But his lover Tate Eldridge is so much more than a criminal, he’s a beautiful mystery.

 

HHHHHis Heart Held Hostage

ASTA IDONEA

When his father loses the battle against Hrafnaheim, Prince Darius finds himself a political prisoner.

Taken in chains to a dark and unfamiliar land, he begins to lose hope.

But then Captain Morten Gunnarsson of the Palace Guards is assigned to watch over him.

Now it is not just Darius’ body being held hostage, but also his heart.

EmperorsSlaveThe Emperor’s Slave

EDDY LEFEY

When the Draaduuri arrived on Earth many humans died.

Captain Timothy Kellerman’s family was among them

Now, a truce has been struck. He is the prize.

Crown Prince Yuuhaan has instantly bonded with his slave.

Can the prince keep his baser instincts in check long enough for Timothy to transform?

To become the next great hope of the Draaduuri and the human race?

YesYesYesYes! Yes! Yes!

LILY VELDEN

Go to Portsmouth, said my friends. It’s quieter. You’ll be able to write without distraction.

They obviously hadn’t met my mysterious and elusive neighbour, Finn.…

After all, what would a Friday night be without hearing Moaner, Gusher, or Squeaker screaming out their joy at being shagged senseless by the obviously talented Finn?

Come to think of it, what would a Saturday, Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday night be without it either?

Thank God for Mondays!

FirefighterMarineThe Firefighter and the Marine

JIM DUNAWAY

Apartment building fires are always tragic, even if everyone makes it out alive. But what happens when a person can’t make it out on their own?

Brave firefighters must risk their lives in order to rescue trapped people.

Lieutenant Kenny Whitfield is one such firefighter. Brave and somewhat reckless. 

Lance Corporal Steve Martinson is one such person in need.

When Kenny and Steve meet face to face in the hospital, well…

BlueKnightBlue Knight

CAROL PEDROSO

Franc has resigned himself to yet another year of pain and humiliation in order to complete his on ship training.

Then along comes Zyph, with his sexy blue skin and probing questions…

Will he be Franc’s Blue Knight?

RoyalGuardianThe Royal Guardian

JO TANNAH

Warrior and Dragon Seek to Destroy Those Who Had Dared Harm Their Prince.

 

Giveaway

Prize: $10 WIP Gift Card

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