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EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT: The Rainbow Clause by Beth Bolden

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BLURB

Heisman winner. Member of the National Championship team. NFL Rookie of the Year. Quarterback Colin O’Connor knows he’s become the ultimate romance novel cliché: all the success he’s ever dreamed of but nobody to share it with. Too bad it’s not as simple as asking out the next girl who intrigues him – because the next girl to intrigue him probably won’t be a girl at all.

Unexpectedly, the solution comes in one neat package: Nick Wheeler, lead journalist for a leading sports and pop culture blog. Hired by Colin’s team, Nick comes to Miami to shine a spotlight on the NFL’s most private quarterback.

The heat in Miami rises when Nick discovers that Colin is nothing like the hollow personality he pretends to be in interviews and he’s even hotter in person than on his Sports Illustrated cover. Nick knows this is the story of his career, and after spending his teenage years as a bullied, closeted teen, it hits very close to home. What he needs is to help Colin share his story while keeping their growing relationship from boiling over in the press, but what he wants is to tell the world.

Purchase: Amazon US | Amazon UK

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The Rainbow Clause Exclusive excerpt

Nick walked over to where Colin was sitting on the lounger. Every molecule was screaming at him to stay away if he wanted to keep things platonic between them, but he needed to have enough self-control for this. Because somewhere along the line, someone had convinced Colin that he wasn’t the ’right’ kind of person to be who he was, and he needed to understand that was just plain bullshit.

Nick gingerly sat at the end of the lounger and when Colin lifted his eyes to look at him, his face was finally out of the shadow. Perfect. If he could only ignore the way Colin looked and sounded and even smelled. How did he smell so clean after a night of dancing and drinking? Nick was sure he smelled like a locker room full of flop sweat and too much booze.

“Listen, you don’t have to do what everyone expects. Even if it’s easier. Especially if it’s easier.” Nick inched closer and tried to ignore the desperate pounding of his heart at Colin’s nearness. If he moved half a foot closer, he’d be close enough to kiss.

Kissing was definitely not what Nick needed to be thinking about right now, especially when Colin’s expression was still skeptical.

Nick changed tactics. “Do you know what they call weird people if they’re rich? They don’t call them weird. They call them eccentric. Money and success buys you the ability to break the mold. You can do whatever you want. You’re about to change your whole life. Embrace that you’re different. Stop apologizing for it.”

It was slow, but the doubt on Colin’s face had begun to melt a little. Nick prayed a little and threw his Hail Mary. “The first time we met, you told me that your personal role model wasn’t Tom Brady. It was Nelson Mandela. That’s you, that’s not the cardboard cutout the media wants you to be. Be you. Trust me, you’re a hell of a lot more interesting than the cardboard cutout Colin O’Connor.”

“But you’ve always been easy to win over,” Colin smirked, echoing that first interview. Nick had to swallow down the lump that had grown in his throat, because Colin had insisted he hadn’t remembered that interview. But maybe some of it had come back.

“True,” Nick said. Anything else was a complete lie. He’d been easy to win over from the first moment. The easiest, probably.

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GIVEAWAY: WIN $50 Amazon Gift Card!!

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About the Author

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Beth Bolden lives in Portland, Oregon with her supportive husband and their beloved cat. She wholly believes in Keeping Portland Weird, but wishes she didn’t have to make the yearly pilgrimage up to Seattle to watch her Boston Red Sox play baseball. She’s a fan of fandoms, and spends too much of her free time on tumblr.

Beth has been writing practically since she learned the alphabet. Unfortunately, her first foray into novel writing, titled Big Bear with Sparkly Earrings, wasn’t a bestseller, but hope springs eternal. She’s published two novels, The Lucky Charm and Getting Lucky, and a short story, Eye of the Storm. Her next novel, Summer Attractions, will be released in August 2016.

Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Tumblr | Goodreads | Amazon

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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 AND REVIEW! Kage Unmasked by Maris Black

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BLURB:

The final installation in the KAGE TRILOGY.

Kage and Jamie have finally come to terms with their feelings for each other, but there is still plenty of drama to work through. Friends and family don’t want to let them be, and now that Kage has his UFC contract, his uncle is worried that the public will find out about his nephew’s boyfriend. Will the drama be too much to handle? Will the stakes be to high?

Discover just how far Kage and Jamie will go for love

 

EXCERPT:

Trey started laughing. “Jeez, Jamie. Make up your mind. Do you want all of the eggs, or none?”
I looked down and discovered that I’d scraped every bit of egg back into the serving bowl. “Oh, forget it.” I slammed my empty plate down on the table and folded my arms across my chest. “Y’all just eat. I’m not hungry anymore.”
“You don’t need bacon anyway,” Kage pointed out. “And definitely not those biscuits. You still need to watch what you eat, even when I can’t be around to help.”
“Yes, daddy,” I said, bitterness making my voice tight. “Do you know how ridiculous you look trying to be all bossy while wearing my clothes that are too small for you? That shirt is practically a cutoff.”
“Yeah?” Suddenly the edge was gone from his demeanor, and his tone was playful. “You don’t think I look authoritative enough in your shirt? How about this?” He pulled it up over his head, balled it up, and threw it at me. I caught it without thinking, because all I was conscious of was his bare chest and abdomen, and the fact that we were standing in the kitchen with my friends looking on. I wanted to cover him with a dish towel or something.
He stalked toward me with a cocky swagger that had my knees melting, backing me into a corner formed by the edge of the refrigerator and the wall. “Can I be your daddy now?” he asked, resting his hand on the wall behind my head and leaning in.
I stared at him, swallowing around the dry piece of wood that was my tongue, feeling it catch in my throat. His dick was within inches of mine, and I could smell the soap on his skin and feel his breath against my cheek. I tried not to make eye contact with him, but I couldn’t ignore the proximity of his body. He knew it, too; the lecherous grin on his face was proof of that. He was purposely goading me, and I wasn’t sure what to do about it. My head was a swirl of confusion, and my cock was hard. I was within seconds of saying fuck it and wrapping my legs around his waist. I wanted to feel his steely length pressing against me through the fabric of those dangerously revealing sweat pants.

REVIEW:  3.5 stars.

I absolutely loved the first two books in the series so I had high hopes for the final instalment. The first two were full of angst and blow-your-socks-off smexy times. If you’re like me and love a good angsty read then this series is for you.

However, the third instalment let me down some. Jamie’s internal dialogue was overwhelming. For every spoken line, there was about an entire page of him thinking about it. It dragged for me and took me away from the story. Kage’s uncle was a miss as well. We knew he wasn’t a nice guy but I didn’t buy into him. It was too OTT. The pantry sex had me eye-rolling and not in a good way. The ending finished way too fast and everything seemed to be wrapped up just that bit too well.

All that being said, I still enjoyed it. Kage and Jamie were good characters but Jamie’s internal thoughts were too much for me.

Hey, It’s Nic here. I thought I’d jump in and add my thoughts on this series. I LOVED IT! I enjoyed it from beginning to end, but was particularly taken with book 1 which totally sucked me into the series. I didn’t have the same issues as RJ in regards to Jamie’s internal dialogue in this one, so I’d give Kage Unmasked 4 stars. Overall the Kage Trilogy is a definite 4-5 star read. Highly recommended.

Buy link:

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BLOG TOUR, EXCERPT & GIVEAWAY! Curve Ball by Sloan Johnson


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Title: Curve Ball

Series: Homeruns #2

Author: Sloan Johnson

Genre: MM Sports Romance

Release Date: July 29, 2015

Blurb:

Jason Klein’s living with the fallout from a decision he knew was the right one at the time. He never told anyone about the love of his life, which left him to mourn alone when he found out the man he gave his heart to had been killed in combat. Now, his heart has had time to heal, but he’s not sure he’s ready to let himself move on. Until he meets Cam Morgan…

Without a job lined up following graduation, Cam Morgan took his best friend up on his offer to move to Milwaukee and stay with him until he could get on his feet. The last thing he wanted to do the day after getting to town was go to a party filled with a bunch of jocks. Sure, they were “professional athletes” but Cam was convinced that bigger bank accounts didn’t make them any more accepting of people like him. He certainly didn’t expect to meet Jason, the Mavericks’ catcher who broke every stereotype he’d had.

What started out as one hot, sweaty night together quickly grows into something deeper. Jason welcomes Cam into his home and his life, but now he has to teach the younger man that it’s not a sign of weakness to let people help you.

 

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Excerpt:

“If you have something to say to me, just say it.” I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel to keep from shaking Drew. He was one of the youngest guys on the team, and right now, his immaturity showed through brightly. It was about time someone knocked some sense into him, before he wound up earning a bad reputation, both on the field and off. “I won’t apologize, because I haven’t done a damn thing to offend you.”

“Really? I shouldn’t be pissed off that I had no clue you were gay?” Drew seethed, his brown eyes narrow slits as he glared at me. “And I should be totally cool with you loading up my friend in the middle of the night to take him back to your place, right?”

“Yeah, actually you should,” I quipped, twisting the wheel tighter. “Cam is a grown man, and if you truly care about him, you should be fucking ecstatic that he’s getting out there to meet people.”

Drew muttered something to himself as he went back to staring out the window. His shoulders slumped forward and he seemed to shrink in his seat. I knew that look. It wasn’t one worn by a concerned or pissed off friend, it was the look of a man who felt the love of his life slipping away from him.

“How long have you felt this way about him?” I asked. My chest tightened, knowing that I wouldn’t stand between them. Drew and I might not be close, but I liked to think of him as a friend, a brother on the team.

“Doesn’t matter.” The response was so quiet I could barely hear the words. As I pulled up to the stoplight, I placed my hand on Drew’s shoulder, unsurprised when he jerked away.

“It does,” I assured him. “And you have to know I wouldn’t have done anything with him if I’d known.”

“Don’t say that. I’ve known for a long time that he’d never feel for me what I do for him.” I suddenly missed the anger Drew showed earlier. “If the way he looked this morning is any indication, you’re exactly what he needs in his life. And if I put my own feelings aside, you’re more than that. You’re what he’s always wanted.”

That was not how I expected this conversation to go. It started exactly as I’d seen it in my mind, but I hadn’t expected Drew to step aside. Maybe I was wrong in thinking that he was immature and selfish.

“Drew, if you say the word, I’ll back off. I’m not willing to destroy two friendships just for a few nights of fun.”

“The only way I’d ask you to do that is if that’s all this is for you.” I pulled up in front of the grocery store, but neither of us moved to open our doors. “Cam is one of the best guys I know. He’s got a big heart, but sometimes, he’s a little too open with it. If you’re only in this for a couple of hot nights, then yeah you should walk away from him.”

I felt backed into a corner. Sure, I’d thought about what it’d be like to explore something more with Cam, but I wasn’t in a place to do that. It had nothing to do with being on the road most of the year and everything to do with my own inability to be open with those around me. I’d grown accustomed to never letting anyone get too close, and Cam had already seen more than people I’d known for years. There was no way I’d be able to hold back if last night and tonight turned into something more.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” It was the most I could promise him.

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Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25621846-curve-ball?ac=1

Buy Links

Amazon: http://goo.gl/tcJYWD

Amazon CA: http://goo.gl/01HxuB

Amazon UK: http://goo.gl/XCvxFZ

Amazon AU: http://goo.gl/ZMq66b

BN: http://goo.gl/C5aV4E

Kobo: https://goo.gl/otTww5

 

WildPitch

In the Series:

Wild Pitch (Homeruns #1)

Released: June 13, 2015

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24597806-wild-pitch

Buy Links:

Amazon: http://bit.ly/wildpitchamzn

Amazon CA: http://goo.gl/gQAifv

Amazon UK: http://goo.gl/KOhu4a

Amazon AU: http://goo.gl/0uLZxS

BN: http://bit.ly/wildpitchbn

Kobo: http://bit.ly/wildpitchkobo

ARe: http://bit.ly/wildpitchare

 

Author Bio:

Sloan Johnson is a big city girl trapped in a country girl’s life. While she longs for the hustle and bustle of New York City or Las Vegas, she hasn’t yet figured out how to sit on the deck with her morning coffee, watching the deer and wild turkeys in the fields while surrounded by concrete and glass.

When she was three, her parents received their first call from the principal asking them to pick her up from school. Apparently, if you aren’t enrolled, you can’t attend classes, even in Kindergarten. The next week, she was in preschool and started plotting her first story soon after.

Later in life, her parents needed to do something to help their socially awkward, uncoordinated child come out of her shell and figured there was no better place than a bar on Wednesday nights. It’s a good thing they did because this is where she found her love of reading and writing. Who needs socialization when you can sit alone in your bedroom with a good book?

Now, Sloan is a tattooed mom with a mohawk and two kids. She’s been kicked out of the PTA in two school districts and is no longer asked to help with fundraisers because she’s been known to lose herself with a good book and forget she has somewhere to be.

Social Media:

Facebook: https://facebook.com/authorsloanjohnson
Twitter: https://twitter.com/authorsloanj
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/authorsloanj
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7162059.Sloan_Johnson

Tsu.co: https://www.tsu.co/authorsloanj

 

Giveaway: $20 Gift Card to Winner’s Choice of Retailer (Amazon, B&N or Kobo) (International)

Link: https://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/40fc5f297/

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Blog Tour, Excerpt and Giveaway! Long Change by V.L. Locey

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Long Change

by

V.L. Locey

Release Date: June 26, 2015

Publisher: Ellora’s Cave

Cover Artist: Allyse Karam

Pages or Words: 70 pages

Categories: Contemporary, M/M Romance, Sports

 

Blurb:

Collegiate superstar goalie Boone Crockett seems to have the world at his feet. He’s rich, handsome, attends an elite college and is a hot prospect for the pros. Pity all that is a front for a deeply closeted and troubled young man.

All Boone’s life plans are shattered when flamboyant ex-figure skater Preston Gordon, an orange-haired twink, shows up to audition for the team’s mascot position wearing sequins, scarves and toe picks. His moves on the ice send Boone into his own pirouette of frustrated and reluctant desire.

As senior year progresses Boone slides deeper and deeper into a dangerous depression, Preston’s sensual strength the only thing he has to hold on to. If Boone can’t keep from plunging through the thin ice he’s skating on, it could take a twink to make the big save.

Reader Advisory: This story has graphic sexual language and scenes—no closed bedroom doors (or other rooms) here!

A Romantica® gay erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

 

 

Excerpt:

We stood side by side at the sliding door that looked out over a snow-covered campus. It was beautiful, untouched and pure. I was rather glad now that I hadn’t done the head in the stove thing. We talked between swallows, spoons hitting bowls the only noise aside from the heater coming on from time to time. I liked watching the way Preston’s hair fluttered around his face when hot air blew down from the vent directly above us. He handed me his empty bowl, then unlocked and opened the slider.

“Dude, heater’s on,” I pointed out. He crouched down. I inhaled. The air was brittle like a dead leaf and cold with a light scent of snow on pine. It was an odd sensation, the cold blowing in to blend with the warm cascading down from above. It wasn’t unpleasant at all. The patio was blanketed in four to five wet inches. Preston stood up. His head turned slowly. I looked over at him, a sated smile trying to curl the corners of my mouth. He was patting a perfectly formed snowball.

“Don’t even think about it you mother—”

Snow filled my mouth, nose and eyes. Preston shrieked. I sputtered, shaking snow out of my eyes, then dashed after him. He was fast and proved hard to get a hand on. After a few laps around the furniture in my living room, the dipshit ran out into the hall. I didn’t hesitate. I couldn’t. I had ice particles dangling from my eyelashes. Vengeance would be mine. We thundered down the steps, his high-pitched squeals of laughter and my warning growls seeming extra loud in the ghost town of a dorm building. The side exit flew open. I barreled out on his heels. The snow was freezing on my bare soles. Preston hissed a nasty curse when his naked tootsies hit the white stuff. He slowed just enough. I tackled him from behind. He went face first into the fresh fluff, all the air leaving his lungs with a loud “Oof!” when I landed on his back.

I clawed up a nice handful of snow as he frantically tried to free himself. I had him pinned, one arm picking up wet powder, the other holding his face into the drift. Wicked laughter boiled out of me when I shoved that snowball down his back. His scream was piercing. He kicked like a wild man, his arms flailing to the sides. I flopped down on him to ensure the snow was plastered to his back.

“Get off! Oh, fuck me, that is so cold! You asshole!” he shouted.

I stayed where I was, splayed over his back, my hand down the back of his shirt, chuckling steadily. I rolled off a moment later still bubbling with laughter. The sky overhead was filled with snow clouds. You know those huge white ones that blow over, drop some flakes, then continue on to let the sun shine down on the freshly carpeted world? Eyes closed, chest heaving, heart lighter than it had been in months, I spread my arms and legs out, inhaled the unique scents of winter and Preston and enjoyed the tickle of new snowflakes touching my cheeks.

“I hate you.”

I rolled my head in his direction and opened my eyes. “Really?”

His mouth rolled into a perfect pout. He was such a pretty thing, even with snow-frosted bangs.

“No,” he huffed as he dashed at the melting snow on his chin. “I should, though. That was heartless!”

“I’ll warm you back up if you want.” The offer slid out of me before I could stop it. A snowflake landed on the tip of Preston’s pixie-like nose. I so wanted to reach out, touch the perfect flake, dry his nose then pull him down for long, wet kiss. Instead I got to my bare feet, standing now in the shadow of the moisture-laden cloud overhead. “I didn’t mean to say that out here.”

“You can, you know,” he said, extending his hand to me. I looked around the quad, the creeping stink of worry now mucking up what had been a perfect moment. “You can say you want to warm me up, or that I have a cute ass, or anything else you want to say. Go ahead. Say it again.”

I shook my head as I hauled him to his feet. Damn, my feet were cold. I turned from him then walked inside, my head low, my mind filling up with concern over my stupid behavior. What the hell had I been thinking, chasing him outside then rolling around in the snow with him as if we were straight lovers.

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Sales Links:  

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Long-Change-V-L-Locey-ebook/dp/B00ZSLKOHU/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1434557998&sr=8-2&keywords=v.l.+locey

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/long-change-1

Ellora`s Cave: http://www.ellorascave.com/long-change.html

 

About the author:

V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, belly laughs, 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, two dogs, two cats, a flock of assorted goofy domestic fowl, and three 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.

Where to find the author:

Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/pages/VL-Locey/124405447678452

Twitter- https://twitter.com/vllocey

Pinterest-http://www.pinterest.com/vllocey/

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5807700.V_L_Locey

My blog- http://thoughtsfromayodelinggoatherder.blogspot.com/

tsú – https://www.tsu.co/vllocey

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25740507-long-change

 


Tour Dates & Stops: June 26, 2015

Badge-2Parker Williams, Kimi-Chan, Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words, Bike Book Reviews, Full Moon Dreaming, Hearts on Fire, Havan Fellows, Bayou Book Junkie, SiK Reviews, Because Two Men Are Better Than One, Mikky’s World of Books, Happily Ever Chapter, Up All Night, Read All Day, Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews, Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents, MM Good Book Reviews, Rainbow Gold Reviews, Velvet Panic, Divine Magazine

 

 

 

 

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Rafflecopter Prize: E-copy of ‘Long Change’ by V.L. Locey

 

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EXCERPT & GIVEAWAY: Love Complicated by Teegan Loy

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Blurb

Life is all about making choices. Some are complicated. Some are simple. But for eighteen-year-old Jalen Marten, none are easy. Jalen has managed to stay invisible for his entire high school career. He has a small group of friends, and it’s enough for him. He doesn’t want or crave attention from his peers. All Jalen wants is to survive high school.

Austin Suter is the hot, talented tennis player who has the entire school bowing at his feet. Girls routinely throw themselves at him, and boys like Jalen stay the hell out of his way. Austin is destined for greatness on the world stage of professional tennis.

The kiss between them wasn’t supposed to happen. Falling in love definitely hadn’t been part of Jalen’s plan.

And when Austin turns pro, Jalen begins to realize that the choices he makes will affect Austin’s life. One wrong choice and Austin’s career could be over before it really begins. Jalen is not sure where he fits, or even if he fits at all in Austin’s life. But the more complicated things become, the less the idea of being apart appeals. Love should simplify things, not complicate them.      

Excerpt

The locker room reeked of socks that hadn’t seen the inside of a washing machine since the beginning of the semester. This place was the second worst part of my day in high school. The first was walking through the front door.

But gym class was its own private hell. I didn’t dislike sports; I just wasn’t any good at them. The kids loved to humiliate me on the court, in the water, on the field, or wherever the teacher had us. I’d been smashed in the face with a basketball, volleyball, soccer ball, and every other ball invented by humans.

Today my class was playing tennis, which was worse, because not only was there a ball, but also a racket. It increased my chances of getting hurt by tenfold. And I really wanted to survive my final year of high school and not die from embarrassment in gym class. I’d made it through the first sport of the year, soccer, by sticking to the sidelines and pretending to participate by running away from the ball.

This morning my mom came home from work as I was leaving for school, and I begged her to write me some sort of note to excuse me from tennis. She declined and told me to get more involved at school. What good was having a surgical nurse for a mother if she wouldn’t help her only kid out of a jam? And what did participating in gym class have to do with getting involved at school? I couldn’t get involved if I was in a coma or dead.

I started to argue with her, but the dark circles under her eyes and the heavy sigh that fell from her lips made me ease off. I kissed her on the cheek and told her to get some rest.

So now my only hope of not playing tennis was a freak rainstorm, and from the way the sun was shining, I knew it wasn’t going to happen. I had no choice but to change, hide among my classmates, and hope Mr. Tames, my sadistic gym teacher, didn’t pick me to play.

Most of the kids were excited to be outside and acted like monkeys just released from their cages. They jumped on one another and hollered all the way out to the courts.

I hoped my quiet demeanor would help me blend into the background. Unfortunately my stellar plan didn’t work. Mr. Tames handed me a tennis racket and paired me with a hockey player named Kasey. Our first opponents were another music nerd and a regular kid. I stayed out of Kasey’s way as he raced around the court, destroying them. We won the match, and Kasey high-fived me by smacking me on the forehead. I scowled at him, because if we had lost, I could have sat down and celebrated getting out of gym class unscathed.

Our next match was against a soccer player and Austin Suter, who had been pegged as the next Wimbledon champion. At least that’s what he told everyone.

He was a pretty boy with full lips and light brown wavy hair that brushed his shoulders. Girls routinely threw themselves at him, and boys like me stayed the hell out of his way. One smoldering look from him and I’d have to walk around school with a book in front of my crotch. Admiring him from afar was the best I could manage.

“Hey, Austin,” my partner shouted across the net. “I’m going to shove this ball down your throat.”

“You’re going to be eating yours,” Austin shot back. His partner gave him a fist bump. Kasey and Austin exchanged a few more verbal warnings. I fiddled with the strings on my racket, and pretended to listen to Kasey’s game plan. Austin’s partner dutifully held his racket while Austin pulled his hair into a ponytail.

“Gentlemen,” Mr. Tames warned. “Enough trash talk. Start the game.”

I groaned and resisted raising my hand to ask to be dismissed. They spun a racket to see who served first. Austin sneered and Kasey growled.

It was supposed to be a friendly game, but the testosterone roared, and the game quickly turned cutthroat. I managed to stay out of Kasey’s way and every ball hit in my direction. I even accidentally returned one. The shot startled Austin and he missed. Mr. Tames whooped and pumped his fist. I should have taken the moment to demand an A.

“Lucky shot, blondie,” Austin shouted at me.

Kasey flipped him off and got yelled at by Mr. Tames again. The students surrounding the court yelled for someone’s head on a platter. I was pretty sure it was me they wanted served up for lunch.

The intensity of the game increased with each returned ball and I started to fear for my life when one zinged by my ear.

“Take it easy, Austin,” Mr. Tames shouted when Austin tried to nail Kasey in the balls. “Jalen, you don’t move this well when you’re playing dodgeball. The point of this game is to actually make contact with the ball. At least attempt to use your racket.”

I rolled my eyes and readied for the next point. Austin served to Kasey, who somehow got his racket on the ball and it popped over the net. The ball seemed to hover in the air, giving me time to figure out I had a bull’s-eye painted on my forehead. Austin raised his racket and connected with the ball, which connected with my face. Who knew a tennis ball felt like a giant rock when smashed into your eye socket. My racket clattered to the ground, and I covered my face to make sure my eyeball didn’t actually fall out.

Austin must have hurdled the net, because he was suddenly kneeling next to me and breathing down my neck. I tried to crawl away from him and his stupid apologies, but he caught me and helped me to my feet. Tames barked orders to set me on the bench while he went for medical supplies. Austin put his arm around my waist and I limped to the bench. The other guys hooted and hollered at me until Austin shot a scowl at them and quieted the entire gym class.

“Is your ankle okay?” Austin asked.

“My ankle is fine,” I snarled and sat down. “Limping makes my eye feel better.”

RC

Giveaway

Rafflecopter Prize: A book from Teegan’s backlist

Click here or on the image to enter the Rafflecopter

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Buy Link

Dreamspinner Press 

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About the author

Teegan Loy began writing a long time ago. Notebooks filled with ideas were stacked around the house. One day, she sat down with renewed ambition and something fantastic happened; she completed a story. (unbelievable, but true) Now most of her time is spent writing, but she takes an occasional break to go to the movies, where she imagines her stories on the big screen. She also enjoy watching hockey (love, love hockey) filling her iPod with music, and driving her daughter around town (amended…around the country) to various activites.

Where to find the author:

Facebook.com/teegan.loy

Twitter.com/teeganloy

Teeganloy.wordpress.com

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6449698.Teegan_Loy


Tour Dates & Stops

Banner300x250 (1)11-May

Amanda C. Stone

Because Two Men Are Better Than One

12-May

BFD Book Blog

13-May

Inked Rainbow Reads

14-May

Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews

Carly’s Book Reviews

15-May

Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words

Mikky’s World of Books

Bayou Book Junkie

18-May

As The Pages Turn

Boys on the Brink Reviews

19-May

Rainbow Gold Reviews

The Novel Approach

Bike Book Reviews

20-May

Vampires, Werewolves, and Fairies, Oh My

Cate Ashwood

21-May

Divine Magazine

MM Good Book Reviews

22-May

Love Bytes

Prism Book Alliance

Chris McHart

Molly Lolly

Hearts on Fire

WillPride

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GUEST POST: Two Man Advantage by V.L. Locey

Today V.L Locey joins us to talk about the best things about hockey. Plus there is a sexy excerpt and a great giveaway. Check out this fabulous book!

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About the Book

TwoManAdvantage_MSRTitle: Two Man Advantage

Author: V.L. Locey

Publisher: Ellora’s Cave

Cover Artist: Allyse Karam

Length: 101 Pages

Release Date: 15th April, 2015

Blurb: Victor Kalinski, all-star forward for the Boston Barracudas, is one of the biggest jerks in professional hockey. Before long his aggressive attitude gets him shipped off to play in the minor leagues.

Furious, he takes to the ice with equal amounts of skill and scathing sarcasm, which doesn’t win him any friends—except for good-natured alternate captain Daniel Arou. He won’t take any of Vic’s crap, and he won’t take no for an answer.

But Vic’s troublemaking is pulling his career one way while Dan’s talent is pushing his in the other. However much they scorch the sheets, they might soon be separated by more than Vic’s fear of being hurt.

Inside Scoop: This book contains scorching gay sex and a heaping helping of no-holds-barred snark between hot hockey heroes who don’t pull their punches.

GUEST POST

My Five Favorite Things About Hockey (In No Particular Order)

1-That Canadian accent so many of the player have.

2-The speed, heart, and grit of the game.

3-How diehard the fans are

4-The way the guys fill out those pads. *fans face*

5-Playoff beards!

6-Goalies (I know the list was supposed to only be five but I just adore goalies!)

What are your favorite things about hockey? Do you enjoy a different sport or no sport at all? Tell me what you love about hockey, or whatever hobby you love, in the comments!

Skate hard and love deeply,

V.L. Locey

Excerpt

 

I was soaping up my head when I heard the bathroom door squeak. I froze, hands on my head, shampoo foam sneaking down my temples.

“Hey, Kalinski? I’m sorry if I touched a sore spot, okay?”

There I stood, like a carving of the Roman shampoo god Dandrufficus, silent and stony. I was aching for something but didn’t know what.

No. That’s a miserable-ass lie. I ached to see Arou pull back the thin shower curtain, step over the side of the tub and kiss me into forgetting my tenth birthday…and my eleventh…and my fourteenth as well. I cleared my throat.

“Yeah, whatever,” I said loudly enough to be heard over the rushing water. The plastic curtain rustled when he closed the door. My fingers slipped from my head to hang by my thighs. Eyes closed, I stepped forward. The stream beat down on my head, filling my ears with water and bubbles. I could still hear Dan just on the other side of the shower curtain. My shoulder muscles tensed.

“I tend to let my mouth run away with me sometimes, you know?”

“Yeah, I know how that goes.”

Taking a step back, I glanced at the dark form outside the curtain. He must be lounging on the small sink. There wasn’t room for two men in here, especially me and Daniel Arou. I turned to let the water beat the tension from my upper back.

“I didn’t mean any harm,” Dan said. I placed my hands on the tiles, not even seeing the mildew on the grout. Why the fuck was this man apologizing? “I’m sorry if your childhood was rough.”

Yep, that was the clincher. I threw the curtain to the right so hard the old, brittle plastic tore off several of the rusty metallic shower rings. Dan lifted his head quickly from his study of his feet.

“You don’t know shit about me or my childhood. For your information, asscrack, what I said was a joke!” I snarled, pointing a finger at him.

He stared at me. Water was dripping from my finger to the floor. His eyes betrayed him. I saw the long, hungry look. My accusatory digit fluttered downward. My cock began to rise to take my pointy-finger’s place. Dan grew slightly pale, mumbled something, then tripped over his large feet out the bathroom door.

I exited the shower. Just stepped out. Left the water running, wetting the floor, and followed the stupid shit. Dan was facing the front door, his back as stiff as my prick.

“I was not checking you out,” he said through clenched teeth.

I stood about a foot behind him, my dick at attention.

“Yeah, you were,” I said. A horn blew outside in the parking lot. A round of male guffaws followed. My wet skin was starting to get chilly. The heater in the room was locked at fifty-five. “I told you I’m not gay.”

“Neither am I,” he said rapidly. Too rapidly.

Yeah, I knew how this was going to go. I had been hiding my bisexuality since I was old enough to like looking at other guys’ packages in the high school locker room. While things were changing for LGBT players, a ton of us were still pretending.

“That’s too bad,” I said, taking a step closer to him. The floor creaked. He sucked in a short breath. His gasp made me smile. “Seems a gay dude and a bi guy in the same room could be honest with each other at the very least.”

That announcement brought the sexy little shit around in a hurry. One dark eyebrow was climbing up his forehead. Those startlingly blue eyes dropped downward. He licked his bottom lip. My cock began to weep.

“You’re bi?”

“Yeah, and right now I would like nothing better than to jack you up against that dresser and kiss you into a state of delirium.”

Dan wet his lips again. Either he was trying to turn me on, which was a wasted effort given how hard my dick was for the man, or it was a nervous tic. Whatever, it was making me crazy. I rolled my hands into fists to keep them from reaching for him.

“Look, stubby, I need a reply here,” I groaned a minute later. Maybe I had misread his signals. Fuck knows I do it often enough with chicks. Guys are usually less confusing, but not always. “If you’re not up for getting laid, speak up now and I’ll go back into the shower, take care of this boner, then pretend this little conversation never took place.”

Another horn blew in the parking lot. Raucous laughter erupted outside our window. The Cougars were bored. Dan reached behind his back to lock the door. Well. Fuck. Me. I suddenly felt lightheaded.

 

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Buy Links

Ellora’s Cave: http://www.ellorascave.com/two-man-advantage.html

Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/pgm5zk4

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/two-man-advantage-vl-locey/1121702094?ean=9781419993664

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/two-man-advantage-2

 

About the Author

V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, belly laughs, 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 goofy domestic fowl, and two 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.

I love to meet new friends and fans! You can find me at-

Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/pages/VL-Locey/124405447678452

Twitter- https://twitter.com/vllocey

Pinterest-http://www.pinterest.com/vllocey/

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5807700.V_L_Locey

My blog- http://thoughtsfromayodelinggoatherder.blogspot.com/

tsú – https://www.tsu.co/vllocey

 

Rafflecopter Giveaway

Get a chance to win a digital copy of Two Man Advantage by V.L. Locey!

Enter the Rafflecopter NOW.

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Tour Schedule

May 4

Daydream Believer Book || Nessa’s Book Reviews || Because Two Men Are Better Than One

May 5

MM Good Book Reviews || Cia’s Stories || Wicked Faeries Tales And Reviews

May 6

Lynley Wayne – Wordsmith Wednesday || Diverse Reader || Up All Night, Read All Day

May 7

Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents || Divine Magazine || Love Bytes Reviews

May 8

BFD Book Blog || The Purple Rose Tea House || Drops of Ink

 

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GIVEAWAY & R-rated EXCERPT: Fourth and Long by Michele M. Rakes

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Blurb

Irus Beaumont, cornerback for the Highlanders, has an issue with his nemesis: wideout for the Pirates, Jackson McCoy. Partly jealous over Jackson’s skill and ability to scrub coverage, Irus also struggles against an unbearable attraction to the receiver. Firmly ensconced in the closet, Irus also has a no football player rule, leaving his desires for Jackson unfulfilled. Anti-gay sentiment in the league keeps Irus closeted, even though he’d rather be out and proud.

When Jackson McCoy suffers a gay bashing at the hands of his team mates after winning the national championship, he finds himself traded to the Highlanders. Spring training brings out Jackson’s competitive nature, eliciting the aggression of his new team’s cornerback, Irus Beaumont.

In practice, Irus hurts Jackson badly. The injury places Jackson on the reserve roster. Jacks has plenty of time to contemplate his life, career, and his attraction to the sexy cornerback. Off to Orlando for the best rehab where guilt inspires Irus to call him every evening, Jackson can’t stop thinking about Irus, or what the season holds for his team.

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Excerpt

Irus moves up to me, slipping his strong arms around my body, his solid chest pressed to mine. “I’d never hurt you, Jacks. I want this to be for the long haul. If I’m gonna throw my ‘no football player’ rule out the window, I want to know it’s not for a one-night stand. You feel me?”

Relief spreads through my body. I nod, not sure I can respond verbally. He grabs a handful of my hair, tipping my head back so he can devour my mouth. He drives me up the stairs, his tongue dominating our kiss. I stumble backward. My jeans slip below my ass. I’m afraid I’m gonna tumble, but Irus has me. Somehow we make it to my bed. Irus stops just short of pushing me onto the mattress.

He shoves my shirt up my stomach, his palms flat on my belly as he slides the material across my chest. It’s over my head and on the floor in a second. The heat in his dark brown stare sends more blood rushing to my dick. He’s checking me out; his gaze rakes over my body along with his hands. I like the contrast of his black fingers exploring the ridges of my white skin, the grooves of my abdominals.

My cock twitches. I confess, I do it on purpose to get his attention. Irus glides his fingertip over my slit, spreading my leaking fluid, closing his palm around my shaft. I groan into his neck, nipping as I thrust into his hand. He smells like game day. I don’t even know if he showered. The idea turns me on, and I inhale his scent, licking his skin, tasting the saltiness.

The mellow light from the living room silhouettes Irus, making him look formidable. I’m only about four inches shorter, just enough to make me tip my head back to kiss him. I like my men bigger than me. I don’t know why.

I lean back to let Irus take control, and it’s like he knows what I want. He takes his time stripping me of my clothes. He touches me, explores every inch of me with his hands and tongue, tweaking my nipples, making my whole body flush with heat. The tingles go straight to my dick.

“You like that, Jacks?”

“Yes,” I whisper. He holds me with one arm, teasing my nipples until my knees buckle, and he lays me on the bed.

I watch him loosen his tie, his black fingers working the knot from the silken fabric, and then he slides it down his front to wind up on the floor. The buttons on his shirt are next, the tails already hanging out from my earlier assault. Luscious abs come into view, his dark skin so sweet I have to lick him some more.

He groans as my tongue slips into his belly button, trails along the hard-cut valleys of his abdomen. With a handful of my hair, he guides me to his dick jutting from his trousers. As I suck him, he unfastens his pants, letting them slide to the floor. He’s not wearing underwear. Fuck me. I don’t stop. I can’t. The joy of his cock in my mouth is what I’ve dreamed of since the first time he ever tackled me on the field.

Buy Links

http://www.loose-id.com/fourth-and-long.html

http://www.amazon.com/Fourth-Long-Michele-M-Rakes-ebook/dp/B00UUR2IDU/ref=pd_rhf_dp_p_img_2

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-fourthandlong-1764760-149.html

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/fourth-and-long-michele-m-rakes/1121475906?ean=9781623008703

Giveaway

There will be a rafflecopter giveaway on two sets of ebooks Saving Kane & Fourth and Long and a $15 dollar GC.
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Click here or on the image to enter the Rafflecopter.

About the Author

Michele Rakes Author PictureMichele Micheal Rakes lives in a small town in the shadow of a big mountain. She works as a surgical technologist assisting in the removal of tonsils and testicles. She has three grown children, two psychotic Egyptian Mau’s, a husband with hair down to his ass, two Harley’s, and a ferret named Teeny Tiny Ferret Feet (husband insists her name Little Feet, we all know he’s wrong).

Links to reach Michele Rakes:

@MicheleRakes

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8295571.Michele_Micheal_Rakes

https://m.facebook.com/michelemichealrakes

https://www.facebook.com/michele.rakes.1

https://michelerakes.wordpress.com/2014/12/20/michele-micheal-rakes-author-page/

 

Tour Schedule

fourth and long official image4/24/2015           Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents

4/24/2015           Cia’s Stories     

 

4/25/2015           Love Bytes

4/25/2015           The Purple Rose Tea House 

 

4/26/2015           Gay Media Reviews

4/26/2015           Divine Magazine  

4/26/2015           Because Two Men Are Better Than One   

 

4/27/2015           Man2ManTastic.blogspot

4/27/2015           Gay.Guy.Reading and Friends

4/27/2015           The Novel Approach

 

4/28/2015           Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews

4/28/2015           Two Chicks Obsessed with Books 

4/28/2015           Elisa -My reviews and Ramblings

 

4/29/2015        Bike Book Reviews 

4/29/2015         Drops of Ink

 

4/30/2015        Jill Prand

4/30/2015        MM Good Book Reviews    

 

5/1/2015         Bayou Book Junkie  

5/1/2015         BFD Book Blog

5/1/2015         Sid Love  

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Guest Post, Excerpt and Giveaway! Winging It by Ashlyn Kane and Morgan James

Join us as Ashlyn Kane and Morgan James share with us the secrets of their co-writing process!

Winging It

by Ashlyn Kane & Morgan James

Blurb

Gabe Martin has a simple life plan: get into the NHL and win the Stanley Cup. It doesn’t include being the first out hockey player or, worse, getting involved with one of his teammates. But things change.

Dante Baltierra is Gabe’s polar opposite—careless, reckless… shameless. But his dedication to the sport is impressive, and Gabe can overlook a lot of young-and-stupid in the name of great hockey. And Dante has a superlative ass in a sport filled with superlative asses.

Before Gabe can figure out how to deal, a tabloid throws him out of his comfortable closet into a brand-new world. Amid the emotional turmoil of invasive questions, nasty speculation, and on- and off-ice homophobia, his game suffers.

Surprisingly, it’s Dante who drags him out of it—and then drags him into something else. Nothing good can come of secretly sleeping with a teammate, especially one Gabe has feelings for. But with their captain out with an injury, a rookie in perpetual need of a hug, and the race to make the playoffs for the first time since 1995, Gabe has a lot on his plate.

He can’t be blamed for forgetting that nothing stays secret forever.

Guest Post 

While Morgan and Ashlyn where here, we asked them about the cowriting process…

The Cowriting Process

Morgan: I used to wonder how two people could write a book together. The idea was ridiculous—it’s not as if they can both hold the pen. But now that Ashlyn and I have published four books together, I find it difficult to imagine a day when I won’t want to write with her.

Ashlyn: Awww, ditto. It’s nice to be loved.

Morgan: Our plots have always been collaborative ventures. We talk about where we want the story to go in broad terms and who we imagine our cast of characters to be, but we also linger over details. For our first two books, we went away and wrote whole sections or chapters solo (for our first novel, we each picked a character and wrote all the content from their point of view), but after we got about 30,000 words through our third novel (as yet unpublished because self-editing is hard) and stalled out for several months, we changed our process.

Ashlyn: Self-editing is hard, and so are superhero novels. Contemporary romance rolls off the fingers a little easier!

Morgan: These days we tag-team. We wrote Hard Feelings in six weeks by writing a thousand words at a time (give or take, depending on how talkative our muses were). Not only is it faster for us, but it’s a heck of a lot more fun.

Ashlyn: There’s nothing quite like the instant gratification of having someone squee over what you wrote five minutes after you wrote it. It’s motivating.

Morgan: When it comes to reading and writing, Ashlyn and I have very similar tastes. We seldom disagree about what’s good and what isn’t. We are, dare I say it, totally drift compatible.

We spend a lot of time on instant message chats and in e-mails flailing at each other about plot. Madly typing out our next ideas, often forgetting punctuation, sometimes employing all caps. Or ranting about how the characters just won’t do what we want!

Winging It was written in this style. I wrote a thousand words, then Ashlyn wrote a thousand, and so on. Each of us edits the other’s work as we go—adding things in, deleting things, fine tuning—and then once the first draft is done, we each take a turn editing, once again adding, deleting, tweaking.

Ashlyn: I’ll be the first to admit I’m a tweaker. I’m very picky, so I’m lucky Morgan puts up with it, really. But I think the constant on-the-go editing of each other’s work is what helps us write books that feel seamless.

Sometimes the unthinkable happens and one of us accidentally writes the other into a corner. Then we talk about the problems, and sometimes a few hundred words get deleted to make way for the plot to move forward. Sometimes it goes back to whoever originally wrote it so they can solve the problem. It really depends.

Morgan: By the time we have a manuscript ready to send to the publisher, it’s difficult even for us to remember who wrote what. I remember once reading a piece from Neil Gaiman about Good Omens, in which he said that there were passages he and Terry Pratchett both insisted they’d written, and passages that both swore they hadn’t. I believe there was even the suggestion that parts of the novel wrote themselves. I’ll probably never again feel such kinship with him. I think that describes our process quite well.

Ashlyn: There have been a few times where I’ve said to Morgan while we’re proofreading a galley, “Good job, nice line!” or “I’m so pleased with myself for this one” only to have Morgan say, “Um, I didn’t write that” or “That was me.” It’s embarrassing, so in the future I think I’ll just stick to quoting the line and saying “high five.”

 

 

Available for purchase at
Excerpt

 

Since the
whole impending disaster was his idea, Baller insisted on paying for their
tickets. Gabe let him, too overwhelmed by sunshine and happy families to do
otherwise. Baller forked over the money, ushered Gabe through the stiles,
grabbed a couple of maps, and then basically frog-marched Gabe onto the
railroad.
“You are
really excited about this,” Gabe observed with mounting trepidation.
Baller
grinned manically and threw his arm over Gabe’s shoulders. “Disneyland, Gabe,” he said, as if that
explained his completely bizarre behavior. Maybe it did, in his world. “We are
going to have fun today if it kills us.”
Gabe
thought it actually might.
They got
off at the first stop, according to Baller’s extremely detailed plan of attack,
and Baller just stood there for a moment, beaming, like he couldn’t imagine
anywhere he’d rather be than Anaheim, California, in the middle of a losing
streak. Gabe gave in to his own sentimentality and snapped a picture with his
phone.
“Pirates,”
Baller sighed happily, grabbing Gabe’s arm and herding him to the right. “Come
on. Maybe they have some poor sucker dressed up as Will for you to ogle.”
Gabe was
reasonably sure the people dressed in costumes were for the kids to interact with, but he decided to
keep it to himself. Even if today did nothing more than deepen Gabe’s pit of
ill-advised feelings for his teammate, Baller still deserved to have a good
time.
As it
turned out, Gabe did not have to worry about Baller having a good time. The
line for the ride was surprisingly short, and Baller spent the whole ten
minutes bouncing on his toes, peering around at the scenery and humming “A
Pirate’s Life for Me” under his breath like a loser.
“Some days
I forget you’re only twenty,” Gabe said with a self-deprecating smile as they
reached the front of the line and took their seats on the ride. “Today’s not
one of them.”
“Stop
being so old for five minutes and relax. I’m trying to cheer us up.”
Gabe
raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. You’re in charge. I’m just along
for the ride. Rides.”
Once he
admitted to Baller (and himself) that he was not in charge of the situation, it
made for a pleasant afternoon. At the end of the ride, they emerged into the
sunshine again and Baller made a beeline for a cart selling elaborate hats to
match the theme. He tossed a tricorne at Gabe, then grabbed something in mauve
with an ostrich feather plume and shoved it on his own head. “What do you
think?” he asked, running a finger along the brim, his eyes dancing.
Gabe
wanted to kiss him, but he distracted himself by trying on his own silly hat.
“Well, you’re no Will Turner, but I suppose you’ll do.”
Baller
stuck out his tongue and forked over a handful of bills for the hat.
Baller
bought them Mickey Mouse-shaped ice cream for lunch, and they ate standing in
the shade of a big tree by the Haunted Mansion.
“We going
on this one too?” Gabe asked.
“Everyone
knows you have to work up to Splash Mountain,” Baller said loftily. He threw
his stick away and licked a drip of ice cream off his thumb.
It
probably wasn’t purposely pornographic. Probably.
After the
Indiana Jones Adventure, Baller tried to buy Gabe a fedora that looked even
worse on him than the tricorne.
“Only
douche bags wear fedoras.”
Baller
smirked and took a picture with his phone. “So, no problem, then.”
Gabe made
a face.
“Come on,
you said I was in charge,” Baller wheedled.
“I didn’t
think that meant I was going to have to cede control of my wardrobe.”
Baller
rolled his eyes. “Grouch.” He tossed a headband with Mickey Mouse ears at Gabe
instead.
“Compromise?”
At least
Baller hadn’t invited anyone else along to witness Gabe’s humiliation. He would
definitely never hear the end of it if any of these pictures got out. Fifi
would chirp him forever, and there’d probably be a whole media circus if they
got caught goofing off when they couldn’t win a hockey game for love nor money.
Gabe
sighed internally and put on the headband.
Three and
a half hours later, when they stumbled out of Buzz Lightyear AstroBlasters for
the fourth time, he was smirking. “Another rematch?”
“Screw you,
no, you smug bastard.” Baller pouted, but he couldn’t hold it. His grin won out
a second later. “Seriously, are you hiding a secret video game addiction?”
“Admit it,
I just have better hand-eye coordination than you,” Gabe said, adjusting his
ears as he preened. They were starting to hurt his head, but the deal was
Baller had to wear the stupid hat as long as Gabe kept the ears on. Gabe wasn’t
going to be the first to give in.
“That’s
not what the statistics say, buddy.” Baller had pulled ahead in their points
race since that game against the Sabres. “In fact, I—” He stopped midsentence
and cocked his head at Gabe, an odd smile twisting his lips. He took a step
closer and raised a hand to the headband. “Duck your head a little? You’ve got
something on your…”
Gabe froze
when Baller grabbed his right wrist for balance as he reached up. His hat
tipped back precariously, but Gabe couldn’t have made a grab for it if his life
depended on it. He was stuck, not breathing, while Baller shuffled closer until
Gabe could see his pores. He brushed his fingers over Gabe’s mouse ears.
“I think
you walked into a cobweb. You’ve got a leaf…. There.” Baller pulled his right
hand away but left the other where it was, clasped around Gabe’s wrist. There
was a papery sound as whatever he’d pulled from Gabe’s head hit the asphalt.
Their eyes
caught.
For one
eternally stupid second, Gabe thought Baller was going to kiss him.
Then the
moment passed, and Baller let go and took a step back. He slapped Gabe on the arm.
“Much better. Good thing you have me to look after you.”
Gabe
forced himself to unfreeze and shake his head in mock disbelief. “Right,” he
said as they started walking again, toward Space Mountain this time. “I’m such
a handful.”
Baller
snorted. “Too easy. You know better than to feed me a line like that. Come on.”
“I’ll feed
you something,” Gabe promised
jokingly, regaining his equilibrium.
Baller
tripped over nothing on the pavement. Gabe grabbed him by the back of his shirt
before he could take a dive. Crap. He’d gone too far.
Huffing at
himself, Baller righted his hat, then poked Gabe with his elbow. “You know, I
was starting to be afraid you were never going to make that kind of chirp
again. Good to have you back.”
Sometimes I don’t understand you at all. But for
once Gabe let himself be honest. “It’s good to be back.” Then he saw the line for Space Mountain and winced. “Good
thing we have Fast Passes.” They only had an hour left before they had to leave
the park to be back in time for team dinner.
Gabe had
forgotten all about their stupid headgear by the time they returned to the
hotel. When they walked into the lobby, Fifi looked over from the concierge
desk, a gym towel slung over one of his shoulders, and barked out a laugh. “I
guess I don’t have to ask what you got up to today.”
“We went
to Disneyland!” Baller said unnecessarily. The feather on his hat flopped from
one side to the other in time with his enthusiasm.
“No shit.”
Fifi rolled his eyes and reached up to flick Gabe’s ears.
Gabe took
them off.
“You’d
better have plenty of energy left for the game tomorrow.”
Gabe
bristled. “What? I got him home in time for curfew.”
Affecting
wide-eyed, earnest innocence, Baller nodded. “Yeah, Dad. He was a total
gentleman. Didn’t even try to steal second.”
Fifi
smacked the brim of Baller’s hat down over his eyes. “Fine, fine. Hurry up and
get ready for dinner or we’re eating without you.”
Somehow
Chef snuck into his room and stole the ears while Gabe was showering, and he
showed up to dinner wearing them, so of course he and Baller got ragged on.
Gabe hoped Chef didn’t put it up on Twitter, but at least Gabe wouldn’t be
featured wearing the ears in any pictures. The teasing only got worse when they
begged off going out for a drink because they were both too tired to do more
than flop on Gabe’s bed and finish watching Pirates.
“Hey,
Banksy?”
“Hmm,”
Gabe said. His eyes wouldn’t quite focus on the laptop screen.
“Just…
thanks.”
Blinking
gritty eyes, Gabe managed, “For what?”
He heard
Baller answer, but the words got lost on his tired ears as he finally fell
asleep.

 

 

About the Authors
 Morgan James started writing fiction before she could spell it. It was in high school that she started writing her first novel about a gay character, and she thanks the Internet for helping her realize that didn’t make her crazy. Coincidentally, she also thanks the Internet for the role it plays in her long distance friendship with Ashlyn Kane. Geek, artist, archer, and fangirl, Morgan tends to while away free hours with imaginary worlds and people on pages and screens—it’s an addiction. She lives in Ontario with her family and is the personal slave of three cats and a poodle (who isn’t named Ringo, but who does like to poke).

 

You can find Morgan at 


      
Ashlyn Kane is a Canadian former expat who is now happy to be reunited with televised hockey at acceptable waking hours. She has reached the age of “twentysomething,” which she will be for at least the next fifteen years.
She has a bad habit of staying up too late, a husband who likes to go to bed early, and a baby brother called Miracle Whip. She is allergic to cleaning, unless you mean cleaning up manuscripts, in which case she gets a little obsessive. Feel free to drop her a line—she’s probably in front of her computer right now, since she’s attached to it at the eyeballs.
 You can find Ashlyn at
            
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Tara Lain visits with a GUEST POST & GIVEAWAY

We are thrilled to have Tara Lain visit Two Men. She has a new release, Canning the Center, book #2 in the Long Pass Chronicles. Welcome, Tara.

 

Guest Post

When Secondary Characters Pounce on You and Demand Their Own Book

I love writing secondary characters. Lots of authors do. Unlike your main characters, secondaries can have tons of quirks with less regard for likability or heroism. They only have to appear in a limited number of scenes, so they can be wise quickly without having to grow into their wisdom as much as primary characters must. They don’t have to demonstrate a huge arc of growth or overcome enormous obstacles. Consequently, writing them tends to be kind of breezy and relaxed for the author. Guess what? That often makes them hugely memorable and the readers’ favorite characters in a story. And that’s when they start whining about having their own book! LOL.

I find that a lot of my most loved books developed out of favorite secondary characters who appeared in the first book in a series. One of my most popular books is Fire Balls. The hero of that story, Rodney, was a secondary character in Volley Balls, my first book in the Balls to the Wall series. Rodney was a relatively small character who wasn’t well developed. Plus, he was short, flamboyant, and not at all the usual hero type, but he had lots of feistiness and great promise. Bam! In his own book, he became a reader favorite. The same thing with Lindsey Vanessen, an important secondary character in The Pack or the Panther. When that guy got his own story in Wolf in Gucci Loafers, he not only captured readers’ hearts, he won second place for Best Paranormal Romance in the Rainbow Awards.

That’s exactly what happened with my new novel, CANNING THE CENTER. The hero of this book, Jamal Jones, was the “best friend sidekick” in Outing the Quarterback. Everyone who read the book remarked on Jamal and what a fun character this gentle giant who loves root beer and pretty men is. When both my agent and publisher asked if he was going to have his own book, I knew he’d been whining to them behind my back. But I must confess, Jamal and his unexpected love for the beautiful drag queen, Trixie Larue, is one of my favorite stories. I hope it’s also one of yours.

Canning The Center
(Long Pass Chronicles, #2)
By Tara Lain
 
Blurb:
Six foot seven inch, 300 pound Jamal Jones loves football, so when he finds out the ultra-conservative owner of his new pro football team fired their current center because he’s gay, bisexual Jamal decides to stay in the closet and hang with the females. Then, at a small drag show, he comes face-to-face with his sexual fantasy in the form of Trixie LaRue, a drag queen so exquisitely convincing she scrambles Jamal’s hormones — and his resolve to nurse his straight side.
Trevor Landry, aka Trixie LaRue, hides more than his genitals. A mathematician so brilliant he can’t be measured, Trevor disguises his astronomical IQ and his quirk for women’s clothes behind his act as a gay activist undergrad at Southern California University.
To Trevor, Jamal is the answer to a dream — a man who can love and accept both his personas. When he discovers Jamal’s future is threatened if he’s seen with a guy, Trevor becomes Trixie to let Jamal pass as straight. But Trevor risks his position every time he puts on a dress. Is there a closet big enough to hold a football pro and a drag queen?
Available for purchase at
   ARe
Excerpt

 

Trevor stuck out a
hand. “My name’s Trevor. Pleased to meet you.”
Jamal reached out to
take the offered handshake and—whoops! In one gentle pull on Trevor’s arm that
clearly required no effort on Jamal’s part, Trevor was up against that huge
chest. “I’m Jamal. I don’t mean to be presumptuous. Just tell me to stop. But
if I don’t kiss you again soon, I’m a dead man.”
Trevor smiled up
into those dark brown eyes. “I would never want to be accused of murder.”
Such full, full
lips. They moved slowly down, down to Trevor’s. The first touch sent a flash
like lightning through every nerve, and he shivered.
Jamal pulled back.
“Cold?”
“Quite the
contrary.” He wrapped his arms tightly around the bunny’s neck.
Invitation
delivered. Jamal’s mouth closed over Trevor’s. Those lips were just as soft as
they looked, but not as silky as the tongue that slipped into his mouth. Oh my,
a girl could get drunk on this sweetness. Trevor opened and received, allowing
exploration—and sharing it. His poor abused cock, which had spent a couple of
hours locked between his asscheeks, wanted to stretch in a whole new direction.
Sweet God, he hadn’t throbbed like this in ages. One leg crawled up Jamal’s ass
all by itself—and it was a long way up. Too far to get his bulge anywhere near
its rightful companion. His eyes popped open. “Well, damn. Not much chance of
sexing you up unless we’re lying down.”
Jamal chuckled. “Oh
no, sweet thing, there are advantages to all these muscles.”
He picked Trevor up
under the butt. Yes! Contact.
Trevor looked into
those melted chocolate eyes. “I am estimating your equipment fully matches in
size the other proportions of your body?” He wrapped his legs around Jamal’s
surprisingly narrow waist.
Instead of getting
all peacocky like he had the right to, Jamal kind of blushed. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“Surely you jest.”
He grinned, but he
was breathing hard. “So you don’t mind big all over?”
“Not one little
bit.”
Jamal rode Trev up
and down against his cock. Oh God, that felt so good. Trevor never had decent
sex because he had this reputation to uphold, and Trixie never had sex at all.
Jesus, that added up to one crappy sex life. But the bunny was like a world in
the middle. With Jamal, for the first time, he got to be both Trevor and Trixie
and that was whole and perfect and hot! “You might want to stop unless you
would enjoy watching me wash these jeans.”
“Better yet, how
about I take you out and we get to know each other before I quit football and
take up fucking you full time?”
Who could laugh at a
time like this? But he still did. He hugged that big, muscular frame tight and
rubbed his cock against Jamal’s huge bulge until they were both gasping. “No.
No, I think you better write the resignation letter.”
“Deal. But I could
take us out for root beer floats first.”
Trevor stopped. “I
love root beer.”
Jamal held him
still, their cocks still squashed in bliss. “You’re kidding. No one likes root
beer but me.”
“I do. It’s my
favorite.”
“There’s this
diner—”

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“Okay, fuck sex. I
need a root beer float and a hamburger.”

 



About the Author
Tara Lain writes the Beautiful Boys of Romance in LGBT erotic romance novels that star her unique, charismatic heroes. Her first novel was published in January of 2011 and she’s now somewhere around book 23. Her best­selling novels have garnered awards for Best Series, Best Contemporary Romance, Best Ménage, Best LGBT Romance, Best Gay Characters, and Tara has been named Best Writer of the Year in the LRC Awards. In her other job, Tara owns an advertising and public relations firm. She often does workshops on both author promotion and writing craft. She lives with her soul­mate husband and her soul­mate dog in Laguna Beach, California, a pretty seaside town where she sets a lot of her books. Passionate about diversity, justice, and new experiences, Tara says on her tombstone it will say “Yes”!

You can find Tara at

               
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