Monday, March 20, 2017

From Top to Bottom by Kevin Klehr


Title:  From Top to Bottom
Author: Kevin Klehr
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: March 20
Heat Level: 5 - Erotica
Pairing: Male/Male Menage
Length: 15100
Genre: Erotica, NineStar Press, LGBT, gay, erotica, cisgender, contemporary, explicit, bears, menage, open relationship, orgy

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Synopsis

Can a dedicated top really learn to bottom? Tony wants to find out but he’s scared another die-hard top will just plow through him, instead of taking it nice and slow on a newbie. Enter Butch, a bear who’ll try anything, and Ford, a guy whose curiosity is tempting him to cheat on his boyfriend. Like Tony, both are dedicated tops wanting to try something new, and on this journey of physical self discovery, all will find that being open means more than taking it doggie-style.

Excerpt

From Top to Bottom Author © 2017 All Rights Reserved On my various profiles, I wrote: Top curious about being a bottom, wants to meet likeminded tops. I thought I was straightforward enough, yet so many timewasters were happy to give but not receive. One loser argued that I ought to get my head examined. He said that it didn’t matter if the other top wanted to bottom, just as long as I got what I wanted. I stressed that this would be a shared experience. Two or more tops learning from each other, discussing the intricate pleasures we would discover as a group. Then he said we’d end up writing folk songs about exploring our inner regions and singing around a campfire. I thought to myself, yeah, maybe that’s exactly the direction I wanted to take. Was I getting soft, or was I just growing up? Perhaps there already was a group for closet-bottoms I could join. But the truth was I wanted like-minded tops simply because we’d go easier on each other. We wouldn’t just ram it up there like a vandal bashing down the door. We wouldn’t be power-bottoms. We would ease in gradually; the runway lit for a relaxed landing before the passengers would embark. Only two other tops sounded like they were on my wavelength. A bear called Butch and a secretive guy named Ford. So I set the date. The second Tuesday in June was the only night Ford could make it, and I knew better than to ask why. I dusted and vacuumed frantically, as if I was expecting Prince Charming to knock on my door, take me in his arms, and deflower me. I lit candles to set the mood, and rolled out an old sheet on the lounge room floor. I didn’t want to bonk in the bedroom. I wanted space for us to explore, like they did in three-way porn flicks. My front door buzzer sounded. I let in my first visitor. “You brought cake,” I said. I tried not to let the look of horror show on my face. “For afterward,” Butch replied. “I baked it myself. Is there room in the fridge?” Hadn’t this guy heard of the definition of “eternity”? The time between when you cum and they leave. Who ever heard of cake after sex? “It’s red velvet,” he said. He crouched in front of my fridge, rearranging its contents. “Do you know the weird shit that goes in this cake? Vinegar. And cocoa and vanilla.” “Do you always bake before sex?” “For special occasions, yes.” “I hardly know you.” “But you’re about to know me a hell of a lot better.”

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Meet the Author

Kevin lives with his long-term partner, Warren, in their humble apartment (affectionately named Sabrina), in Australia’s own ‘Emerald City,’ Sydney. From an early age, Kevin had a passion for writing, jotting down stories and plays until it came time to confront puberty. After dealing with pimple creams and facial hair, Kevin didn’t pick up a pen again until he was in his thirties. His handwritten manuscript was being committed to paper when his work commitments changed, giving him no time to write. Concerned, his partner, Warren, secretly passed the notebook to a friend who in turn came back and demanded Kevin finish his story. It wasn’t long before Kevin’s active imagination was let loose again. His first novel spawned a secondary character named Guy, an insecure gay angel, but many readers argue that he is the star of the Actors and Angels book series. Guy’s popularity surprised the author. So with his fictional guardian angel guiding him, Kevin hopes to bring more whimsical tales of love, life and friendship to his readers.

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Thursday, March 16, 2017

The Alpha's Prey by Lou Kelly


Title:  The Alpha's Prey
Author: Lou Kelly
Publisher:  Amazon KDP
Release Date: 03/01/2017
Heat Level: 4 - Lots of Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 75,000 words
Genre: Romance, shifter, paranormal romance

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Let’s Talk Writing with Lou Kelly!

Q: How long did it take you to write The Alpha’s Prey?
A: That’s a hard question to answer since writing m/m isn’t my primary job. It took me over a year to finish the book, but part of the reason it took me so long is that I have to fit my writing time in between other projects.

Q: Did you do any research for this novel?
A: Surprisingly, yes! Even though this is a shifter story, the paranormal elements of the shifter world operate within the bounds of the modern world. One of the main characters, Devon, is a world champion figure skater, so I had to do a lot of research into how the figure skating competitions are run and how competitors qualify for various competitions.

Q: Was there a scene that was a favorite to write?
A:  So many of them! I loved writing the opening chapters because the book begins at an intense time, so it was fun writing such suspenseful scenes right away. I loved writing the scenes where Devon’s wolf phobia clashes with the wolf culture of Aaron’s pack, and I had a blast writing the part where Elton gets his “Alpha” on! (No spoilers!)

Q: What was the hardest part of writing this novel?
A: The most difficult part was deciding how much to push the boundaries. I know this book is a bit darker than what many people are used to. No puppies, bakeries, or babies in this story! I didn’t want to turn readers off, but at the same time, the story demanded a certain level of intensity, so it was hard to strike the correct balance – like walking a tight rope!

Q: What was the best part of writing The Alpha’s Prey?
A: Falling in love with the main characters, Devon and Aaron. That’s always my favorite part of writing, and I hope my readers will fall in love with them, too.



 

 

Synopsis

If there’s one thing Devon O’Leary hates, it’s wolves. Everyone thinks the wolfman he remembers as his abductor is a figment of his imagination, but Devon knows the truth and he has the scars to prove it. Wolf shifters are real; they have sharp claws, horrible fangs, and show no mercy to their victims. And one of their Alphas has claimed him as its prey. Can two men overcome impossible odds to claim the love that was meant to be theirs? Or will Devon’s past cause him to reject the mate who would do anything to keep him safe?

Excerpt

Aaron Lowell had a splitting headache. Again. Actually, this was a migraine. Even the gentle lamplight in his log home made his forehead crease with pain and his fists clench. If he were fully human, the fact that he'd been getting migraines would suck, but he'd take some medication and visit his doctor. Maybe get an MRI. The problem was, Aaron was a wolf shifter, and shifters did not get migraines. Alphas in peak condition did not salivate for Percaset on the day of the full moon. And yet, jesus, mary, and joseph, Aaron's head fucking hurt. The television was blaring in the living room and Aaron forced himself to walk the few feet to shut it off, but a national news promo was on, interrupting the hockey game to inform viewers that there’d been a break in the Devon O'Leary case. Headache or no headache, there was zero chance he was shutting off the television now. Devon O'Leary was a figure skater, dubbed America's prince after his gold medal win at the World Championships. He'd been abducted almost four weeks ago, and ever since, Aaron hadn't been able to stop thinking about the guy. Any abduction was horrific, but there was something about this one that tore at Aaron's guts and wouldn't let go. Maybe he was obsessed with the story because he’d always nursed a secret crush on Devon. Who wouldn't? Devon was a breathtakingly beautiful Irish twenty-two year old with chestnut curls, striking blue eyes, a perfect ass, and a smile that brought dimples to both cheeks. He had an amazing build, masculine, and yet completely graceful on the ice. As far as Aaron could tell, the kid was perfect: gorgeous, bashful, and talented. Around here, in the mountains of Holland, North Dakota, Devon was also a hometown hero because he'd grown up in the area and trained at the local Ice Hut, making his way up the ranks by scrubbing floors to pay for rink time until he won his first national competition. Like everyone else in Holland, Aaron had loved watching Devon skate, even though his pack teased him mercilessly. Not that Aaron cared about a little teasing. He was an Alpha, and he could watch figure skating if he damn well wanted to. Except, now Devon might be dead. Please don't say they found his body. Aaron couldn't tell whether his nausea was due to the migraine or the news report. Ever since the abduction his wolf had been howling to get loose and rip someone's throat out. He guessed most people felt that way, minus the wolf part, of course. Something precious had been stolen from them. Someone precious. Aaron took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Honestly, if this was the report where they announced they'd found Devon's mutilated corpse, Aaron thought his wolf might go crazy. Finally, the breaking news promo ended and a blonde reporter came on screen, standing in front of a tiny, nondescript hunting shack blocked off with yellow tape. She was obviously deep in the woods, bundled in a hooded fur coat, trying not to shiver in the snow. The blood in Aaron's ears pounded so loud he could hardly make out a word the reporter was saying, but he got the gist of the recap as she filled the audience in on Devon's abduction from the ice rink after one of his training sessions. A photograph of Devon flashed onto the screen, followed by a three second cut of him spinning on ice, a flash of him receiving a gold medal at January's National Skating Competition, and then a fragment of an interview in which Devon laughed, blushed a gorgeous pink, and shook his reddish brown curls in an unconscious gesture that was so endearing Aaron nearly wept. Fuck. He was really losing control. “At long last, there's a lead regarding the abduction of Devon O'Leary,” the reporter said. “Police have located a remote hunting shack where they believe Devon was being held, maybe even as recently as this morning. The break came after a hunter reported seeing a bound figure being carried to a flatbed truck, and police have been scouring the area since the report came in. What they've turned up has been, to say the least, disturbing. “Although police aren't commenting on the specifics of what was found inside this shack, they have confirmed that blood and other sources of DNA have been brought to a lab where technicians will determine if they belong to Devon O'Leary. As to whether the bound figure was dead or alive, the witness couldn't be sure. “Devon's only surviving relative, his grandmother, Layla O'Leary, and his coach, Ivan Jacobowitz, have both been in constant contact with authorities and have said that this news gives them hope that Devon will be found. They're pleading with the public to be on alert for anything that might bring Devon home.” The reporter looked forlorn, and Aaron wondered if that was due to the news about Devon or the freezing temperatures on the mountain. “According to the witness,” she continued, “the truck was a rusted, blue Chevrolet without plates and the man carrying the bound figure was described as Caucasian, approximately six foot four, abnormally large and muscular with red hair, a full beard, and a scar across one cheek. Police are asking the public to be on alert for signs of this man or his vehicle.” Police sketches covered the screen and Aaron drew in a sharp breath at the sight. No. No, no, no. The sketch of the abductor had the classic profile of a wolf shifter. Large and muscular were the same two words people used to describe Aaron when they first met him, but there was more: a certain sharp cut of the features that spoke of an Alpha wolf. The shoulders were too broad, the facial features more chiseled, and the eyes … even in a black-and-white sketch, the eyes seemed to glow. “No.” Aaron repeated the only word his aching brain could conjure. “Please, no.” He ran his fingertips down the length of the television screen as if he could reach inside and pull Devon out. Rescue him from his tormentor. The sound of his front door slamming shut pulled Aaron's attention back to reality. His Beta and best friend, Georgia, stepped inside, shaking snow out of her waist length, curly brown hair and removing her pale pink parka. She glanced at Aaron, and then at the television. “I came as soon as I could,” she said. “Heard the news report on the radio and I had a feeling you'd be melting down.” Aaron grunted. “Why would you think that?” Georgia's eyes strayed to Aaron's living room wall. Newspaper articles and photographs of Devon were pinned to every wooden beam, even taped to the window pane. Each lead the police had produced thus far – not that any of them had panned out – were pinpointed on a large map tacked between Aaron's framed college diploma and his UND Hockey poster. A glossy, color cut-out from Skating magazine showed Devon's smiling face. “Okay. Maybe I've been a bit obsessive,” he admitted, “but the guy's a local. I know his grandmother, for god's sake.” “You know his grandmother because you started visiting her at the assisted living facility after Devon's abduction,” Georgia reminded him. Gently. For someone whose wolf form was as big as her Alpha's, Georgia was surprisingly gentle. Even in human form she stood only slightly smaller than Aaron's broad, six foot four frame, yet she still came across as delicate. Aaron shook his head. “Yeah. I guess that's true. I feel like I've known her forever.” Over the past month he'd found this sort of thing happening a lot. His head felt muddled, as if every thought had to travel through a thick layer of fog before an idea could emerge. “She's an amazing woman. She's already lost a husband, a son, and a daughter-in-law. I can't imagine how she's surviving. Maybe I'll stop by tonight and –” Georgia cleared her throat, reaching over to shut off the television. “Don't tell me you've forgotten what night this is.” “What? Oh. Right. Of course not.” But for a moment, Aaron had forgotten. How the hell had he forgotten about the full moon? For shifters, the full moon beat in their veins, literally speeding up the flow of blood so their whole body felt vibrant and alive, ready to split open at any moment. Not a feeling one could easily forget. “The pack is looking forward to running. You know your mood has been affecting them over the past few weeks. They need this release, Aaron.” “Yeah. I know.” He did know. He'd had his first nightmare after the previous full moon waned, quickly followed by his first migraine the next day, and in the weeks since he'd been sluggish, irritable, and nearly incapable of making a decision. Basically, the opposite of everything his pack deserved from their leader. “Relax,” Georgia said, as if she could read his mind. “No one expects you to be perfect. You're a damn good Alpha and five years of doing everything right isn't going to be erased by one bad month. Especially not when there's clearly something wrong with you.” She paused. “Uh, medically, I mean. The pack is worried, that's all. We want to see you healthy and it's scary that Doc doesn't know how to treat you. Everyone's hoping that shifting on the full moon will help.” Aaron couldn't deny that he'd been hoping for the same thing. Shifters were supposed to heal quickly. Long term illnesses weren't a part of shifter life until they grew old, but for him, there was even more resting on the full moon shift because the truth was, Doc not only couldn't cure him, he couldn't find anything wrong with Aaron in the first place, which meant that whatever was going on was probably in his head. Even now he could hear Doc's patient voice. “You took over this pack real young, Aaron. I understand your father wanted to take the position with the council up in Canada, but you're not mated and you were just out of grad school. Running a pack and a business is a lot of stress for someone your age.” According to Doc, Aaron had latched onto Devon's case in an attempt to channel his own latent anxiety into something concrete. Maybe that was true, but Aaron hadn't been conscious of any out-of-the-ordinary stress before everything fell apart. The pack ran a business building custom log homes, and sales were booming. He'd been able to use his MBA to bring in new customers and nearly double their clientele. Sure, he missed his father, but he loved being Alpha. Leadership was in his blood. Literally. “Have you eaten anything today?” Georgia asked, walking into his kitchen. She didn't wait for an answer, rummaging through his refrigerator and stacking mounds of leftover bacon, baked beans, and a pile of carrots onto a paper plate. “You need fuel for tonight.” She walked back out and set the plate on his coffee table, but Aaron ignored her. He took a red pushpin and stuck it onto the map at the location where the hunting shack had been found. Aaron stared at the pin. The spot was about three hours north in rugged terrain, but it would be possible to get there by nightfall. “What are you thinking?” Georgia asked, reaching over to massage his shoulders. Aaron was suddenly aware that he'd been wearing the same shirt for three days straight, and he hadn't shaved, so dark stubble was turning into a full beard. He kept his black hair cut short most of the time, but it had grown out into a ragged, unkempt look, made worse by the circles under his eyes. “I, uh … we're going to run here tonight.” He reached out and placed a finger on an area just north of the pushpin where a single dotted line indicated a logging road. Georgia stopped massaging. “Aaron, I know you want to find this guy, but …” Aaron whirled on her. “It's not that I want to find Devon. I need to find him. And he needs to be found. This area isn't claimed by any pack, so there's no reason we can't run here.” “No reason except that the whole mountain is probably crawling with police.” “You know humans, they'll stop searching at nightfall, especially with the temperature dropping.” Georgia pursed her lips. “Then there's the three hour drive there and back. Parents with pups will have to get childcare at the last minute, or else we'll have to leave someone behind to watch the little ones.” “Ask a few of the elders to stay. Tell them it's a personal favor for their Alpha.” “You should also consider the pack’s feelings. They’re already confused about why you're so obsessed with Devon's disappearance, and this sudden change in plans won’t help matters.” “Enough!” The word came out in a stifled roar and ended on a growl. “I'm still the Alpha, and if I say we run here tonight, then that's where we run. Unless anyone wants to challenge me for my position, in which case they can try their best.” Georgia made a startled yelp and lowered her eyes to the floor, tilting her head to show her submission. “Of course not, Aaron. No one is challenging your leadership. We love you and support you. I'm just saying it will be difficult to pull everything together at such late notice.” “I don't care,” Aaron said. “Do whatever it takes. Anyone who has a valid reason to stay home can run here with a smaller pack or stay with the kids, but I expect everyone else to be ready to leave by four o'clock. We'll fan out around the base of the mountain and work our way up. This isn't a request; it's an order.” Georgia nodded, but they both knew she wouldn't have to repeat the last part. Even now the pack could probably sense Aaron's intensity. They'd feel it in rippling waves of emotion, capped off with the need to obey. “I better get started then,” she said, reaching for the parka she'd just discarded. She paused, looking back up. “Aaron, is there something you're not telling me? Something else driving your desire to run in that territory? I mean, besides the obvious.” Georgia could always tell when he was holding back. That was part of what made her an ideal Beta. Aaron sighed. “I didn’t like the sketch of the possible abductor that the police released.” He shrugged. “I know it's just a composite and the witness could be wrong about what he saw, but …” “But what?” “The guy looks like a wolf shifter. An Alpha.” Georgia's eyebrows climbed up her forehead. “I realize this probably sounds insane considering I've only seen one pencil sketch,” Aaron said, “but if you think about it, the whole scenario points to a shifter. Devon was abducted on the morning after the full moon ended. If he's been alive this whole time, that means someone has kept him hidden, and now he's been moved right before the next full moon ascends. I know it's not much, but I think we have to check things out.” Georgia set her hand on his arm. “Actually,” she said, “it’s a lot. If there's even a chance that you're right, we need to take that shifter down.” Aaron let out a breath. “Thank you.” There were so many reasons to love Georgia he couldn't count them all. Her unconditional support was in the top ten. “I'll rally the troops,” she said. “Worst thing that happens, we rule out the idea that Devon's being kept in that area. Best thing? We save that kid's life, take down a rogue Alpha, and become the heroes of Holland, North Dakota.” She grinned, flashing the wide smile that could rival any Hollywood actress. Aaron reached over and pulled her close, planting a kiss on her cheek. “Tell me again why we're not mated?” She winked, bumping him with her hip. “Could be because Walt would complain. I swear, he gets the Mate-of-the-Year award for coming in second place all the time and not leaving me. If you didn't prefer men, he'd have dragged me off to another pack ages ago.” She paused, giving Aaron a look. “You know, Walt has this theory that Devon is really your mate and that's why you're so drawn to his case. He says your wolf is in pain because it has a psychic link with its soul mate. Might explain the migraines.” Aaron laughed. “Nice theory, except for the minor detail about the guy being fully human. Trust me, I sniffed around his old apartment and didn't find even a trace of wolf scent.” “I don't know,” Georgia said. “I've heard of other wolves being mated to humans. It's pretty rare, but it happens.” “Not to Alphas,” Aaron said, shaking his head. “Doc says we're genetically designed to be mated with female wolves so we can continue the pack. He's sworn up and down that when the time comes and I meet my mate I'll feel attracted to her. I told him that if I was going to be attracted to any woman it would be you.” Georgia laughed. “You put too much stock in Doc's opinions. He's a sweet old man, Aaron, but he's been the only wolf doctor in this tiny, backwater town since before we were born. I don't even know if he got a medical degree or if he just learned the art from his grandfather.” “So what are you saying?” “Nothing. Just that Doc's been wrong before and crazier things have happened.” She pulled on her coat and headed to the door. “I'll see you later,” she said. “If Devon's out there, we'll find him.” Long after the door shut, Aaron stood in the same exact spot, staring at the wall. He tried to hold the idea of Devon being his mate in his mind, but the thought brought his migraine back full-force. If he were to believe that was true, it would mean that someone had taken away the man meant to be his soul mate and held that man captive in a hunting shack for a month, while he did god only knew what to him. Aaron's head spun. No. Better not to go there. The idea was crazy to begin with, and there was nothing to be gained from entertaining the thought. He needed to sleep for an hour or two before the pack headed out. Give in to his body's demands before he exerted himself. Slowly, Aaron crawled up the stairs and flung his tired form onto his bed. He closed his eyes, knowing he'd dream about dimples and chestnut curls, arms reaching out to him, desperate and in pain, pleading for his help. Begging to be found.

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Meet the Author

Lou Kelly loves a great romance. Having honed her skills as an author through a decade of writing and publishing, she discovered m/m fiction and fell in love. What does she like best? The slow burn. “No insta-love for me. I adore a well-developed full-length novel with characters who are believable and sympathetic. My favorite relationships are the kind where suppressed desire sizzles with sexual tension struggling for release. Give me a strong Alpha male who has to fight for his mate, or enemies who are shocked when hate turns into love, or a mysterious stranger who doesn’t want his secrets revealed … I crave books that keep me up past my bedtime.” When she isn’t writing, Lou Kelly loves to travel. Sadly, most of her traveling these days happens between the pages of books, but top on her wish list is a trip to Greece. Followed by New Zealand, Ireland, Scotland, and Iceland. *sigh* Someday she hopes to explore them all. Until then, you can find her reading! – Lou Kelly is a member of RWA (Romance Writers of America), and a proud member of RRW (Rainbow Romance Writers).

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An Officer's Submission by Christa Tomlinson

Title:  An Officer's Submission
Series: Cuffs, Collars, and Love #4
Author: Christa Tomlinson
Publisher:  Self- Torlina Publishing
Release Date: March 16
Heat Level: 4 - Lots of Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 67,000
Genre: Romance, erotic romance, contemporary, D/S, established couples

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Synopsis

“You don’t ever have to keep anything you feel locked up, Clay. I’m your Dom, and whatever you need from me, I’ll gladly give to you.” - Sergeant Logan Pierce Police Officer Clay Foster is finally at peace and happy with his life. He enjoys his career as a member of Houston’s SWAT team, and he loves submitting to his Dom in the bedroom. His life is perfect, until one cruel act destroys Clay’s bubble of happiness. Shattered trust forces Clay to reevaluate his career, his relationship, and himself. Sergeant Logan Pierce is the leader of Houston’s elite SWAT team. On the force, he’s the best at what he does. In private, the most important thing in his life is taking care of his submissive, Clay. Clay is his whole world, and Logan will do whatever is necessary to keep him safe. Even if that means going up against Clay’s stubbornness in order to help him heal. Can Logan and Clay work together to rebuild their happiness? Can they find their way back to the shared passion of Dominance and submission? Or will their love and relationship end before it’s truly begun?

Excerpt

“It’s good to be back home.” Logan looked down at him with an eyebrow raised. “Home?” Clay snorted a laugh. As usual, they were at Logan’s house. When he thought about it, he realized he hadn’t been back to his apartment in weeks. In fact, his bags from their recent trip to Colorado were here at Logan’s. He hadn’t bothered to take them back to his place after their return. “If I’m in your space too much, I can throw all my stuff in the car and head back to my apartment,” he said as he pretended to pull away. Logan tightened his grip on his foot. “You’re not going anywhere.” Clay bit his lip to hold back a grin. “I didn’t think you wanted me to. But what I meant is, I feel good about life. That trip was awesome. I got to play in the snow, just like I wanted.” “And I got to warm you up when you were done.” “You did a very good job. You might have gotten me a little overheated a few times,” he teased. He wiggled his toes as Logan squeezed his foot again. “You and I are in a great place. And I think things are going to be better at work now too. We redid Hayden’s ridiculous course and passed with flying colors this time. I’m hoping the fact that we passed the redo means Hayden will get off our backs and quit fucking with our schedule.” “The team is gelling again. And we’re hoping Hayden will finally move on and give up on his pet project of tormenting our team. Anything else?” Clay shifted, looking at the TV instead of Logan. “What else is there?” “Are you still blaming yourself for that idiot making those fake calls to our team?” Clay pulled his feet off Logan’s lap for real this time and got up from the couch. “Why wouldn’t I blame myself? It was my fault.” “It wasn’t your fault. And I don’t like hearing you say that it was.” “C’mon, Sarge. You know that was on me.” Clay roughly ran a hand through his hair, turning his back on his lover. “If I hadn’t gone to that convention and went on camera bragging about how badass our team was, that whacko would have never taken it as a challenge to try and prove he was better than us.” He turned back around as Logan grabbed his hand and pulled him to stand in between his legs. “Maybe not. But maybe he would have taken his anger out in another way.” “What do you mean?” “You read the report Roberts put together on the guy. He was looking for revenge because he felt he’d been slighted too many times. What if he’d physically attacked the people he wanted revenge against? Someone or several someones could have been hurt. At least with the revenge tactics he chose, no one was. We managed to catch the idiot, and hopefully he’ll be granted some time to think about what he did.” “Are you forgetting he tried to kill me?” Clay saw a muscle tic in Logan’s jaw at the question, his hazel eyes going hard before he answered. “No, I’m not forgetting.” Clay tilted his head to the side as he studied his lover. “You know, I noticed that the perp seemed a little worse for wear before you got him loaded in the patrol car. Did you do anything to cause that?” “I’ll never let anyone hurt you.” Logan’s response was a non-answer, but it confirmed Clay’s suspicions. “I’m a cop. On occasion, I might get hurt. And you can’t go after people because of that.” “And you’re mine. Did you forget that?” Clay shook his head. “No, Sir.” “Come here.” Clay followed the gentle pull Logan gave his hand to drop down to the couch and straddle his lap. “You’re my lover. My submissive. It’s my right and my pleasure to protect you, always.” He brought a hand up, his thumb sliding across the metal collar that circled Clay’s neck. “I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you or take you away from me.” A thrill shot through Clay at that declaration. Logan’s unapologetic possessiveness had caused problems early on in their relationship, but they’d worked on it and come to an understanding on boundaries. Now, he was able to revel in Logan’s possessiveness and caring, because he knew it wouldn’t get out of hand. Clay pressed his forehead to Logan’s and closed his eyes. “I love when you talk to me like that.” Logan’s hand moved to grip the back of his neck. “Do you?” His eyes still closed, Clay nodded. “Tell me why.” “Because it makes me feel like the most important thing in your world. I’ve never felt like that with anyone.” “It’s true. You are the most important thing to me. Having you in my life, wearing my collar, means everything to me.” Clay opened his eyes and looked into his lover’s gaze, seeing the sincerity there. Not that he doubted him. Logan had proven time and time again how much he loved him. “I don’t deserve you, Sir. And I don’t do enough to show you how much I love you in return.” “You don’t have to do anything to deserve me. I’m with you because I don’t ever want to be with anyone else.” “Well, maybe I can show you what I feel tonight. Physically.”

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Self- Torlina Publishing

Meet the Author

Christa Tomlinson is an exciting up and coming author in erotic romance. Christa graduated from The University of Missouri-St. Louis with a degree in history. She loves to create stories that are emotional and lovely with sex that is integral to the characters' romantic arc. Her books include straight couples, curvy couples, gay, and multicultural couples. Love is love and everyone should have their story told. Christa lives in Houston, Texas with her two dogs, and is a retired roller derby player. She enjoys hearing from readers, other authors and aspiring writers. For more on Christa's work, including deleted scenes, excerpts, and free reads, visit www.ChristaTomlinson.com  

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Monday, March 13, 2017

Shaper by Christine Danse


Title:  Shaper
Series: The Mi'hani Wards, Book 1
Author: Christine Danse
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: March 13
Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex
Pairing: Female/Female
Length: 14100
Genre: Romance, NineStar Press, LGBT, lesbian, age gap, cyberpunk, UST, psychic ability, abduction, amnesia, captivity, magic users, prison, secret agents

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Synopsis

Nameless and without an identity, she wakes on the streets of Shapertown, an abandoned city that defies the laws of physics. She’s fleeing a threat she can’t remember. One woman holds the key to unlocking her memories and the dangerous truth: She is the threat.

Excerpt

Shaper Christine Danse © 2017 All Rights Reserved I didn’t dream. I existed in a black space where for a time I almost had a family and friends, school, the everyday pleasures of domestic life. I drifted close to the shores of memory but didn’t make landfall. The sound of voices pulled me out again, a man and a woman. They drew me out to sea and up into the sky, into my skin. I came to on my side under the warmth of covers. Home, in my bed. But no, not my bed. Not my room. No room I recognized. Instinct told me to kick to my feet and bolt, but like a small animal, I felt safe under cover. I scanned the contents of the small room. White dresser, table against the side with two chairs, one door. No more than that. I made another pass with my eyes just to be sure, but there was only the one door, so only one way out. The voices came from just on the other side of it, so I wouldn’t be slipping out unseen. I would have to wait this out. I had no choice. It had nothing to do with the fact that the pillow was soft under my head, the blankets a bank of clouds atop me. A comfort like home, which I hadn’t known for… For a long time. The feeling didn’t quite come with a memory, but a strong sense of hard surfaces and shivering sleep. “I realize,” the woman was saying. She spoke in a hushed tone, but I could just get her words. The man responded in a low rumble I couldn’t make out. “I know that,” she said. “But you must understand the position this puts me in.” Something about her voice made me uneasy. Maybe her tone. There was an edge to it, a wariness and also a weariness. “I’m retired,” she said at last, flatly. Nothing after that. They might have moved off, leaving me, forgetting me. But I didn’t move, just lay with the blanket pulled up to my eyes and held still, waiting for something, because something always came. The rattle of the doorknob warned me just before the door opened. The man entered first. Tall, with dark brooding eyes and a presence like a storm cloud compacted into a man’s shape. But it was the woman at his elbow who scared me. Thin, with straight brown hair and luminescent blue eyes. Beautiful but tired, mouth in a line like it had never known a smile. I sat up and clutched the blanket, never mind that I was clothed. I pushed back my curls. “You’re awake,” the man said. He drew out a chair and sat. The woman stood leaning back against the doorframe with her arms crossed, seemingly impassive, but our awareness of each other pulled like a taut string. “I’m Nero,” the man said. “And this is Natalia.” After that came a pause. They seemed to be waiting for something. I looked between them, fingers curled around the top edge of the blanket. My gaze caught the woman’s and snagged. He prompted: “Can you tell us your name?” I opened my mouth and— “No.” I felt an instant pulse in the air, like a throb of hostility from them, and added, “I don’t know.” The man’s eyes flickered. The woman shifted from one leg to the other and propped the foot against the wall. “I don’t know,” I said again. “I don’t know my name.” The edge of panic crept into my voice. They exchanged a glance. The man asked me more questions. It was a terror and a relief not to have the answers. They could get nothing out of me. I could betray no one. He seemed to get the same idea. He stood and exchanged a conversation with the woman that consisted of a look, a subtle glance in my direction, a scowl, and a tight nod. Then the man told me that Natalia would make me comfortable. “I’m comfortable here,” I said. At that moment, I would have rather been huddled in the corner of that crumbling building like a dog behind the dresser. The woman, Natalia, dredged up a smile that didn’t quite make it to her eyes but also wasn’t unkind, and held a hand up, gently beckoning. I couldn’t decline.

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Meet the Author

Christine lives with her writing partner in the wilds of urban Oregon, where they raise weeds, worms, and eyebrows.

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Monday, March 6, 2017

The Broken Butterfly by Cailtin Ricci

Title:  The Broken Butterfly
Series: In the Shadows, book 2
Author: Caitlin Ricci
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: March 6
Heat Level: 1 - No Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 14900
Genre: Romance, NineStar Press, LGBT, gay, romance, ghost, demons, law enforcement, paranormal

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Synopsis

Carter is closer than ever to solving his latest cold case, but his disturbing dreams seem to be a warning to stay away from the truth. The victim, Jacob, deserves justice, and Carter can’t let a few bad dreams get in the way of that. When he goes to Malphas and Jamison for help, Carter learns that his dreams are more than they seem. What he learns is enough to send Malphas running, and as much as Carter wants to go with him and Jamison, he knows he can’t abandon Jacob so easily. Malphas says Jacob is being held by a powerful demon, and Carter knows he’s not in the business of doing favors for humans who aren’t Jamison. But to free Jacob, Carter is willing to do just about anything to convince Malphas to help him, even if it means making a deal with the devil.

Excerpt

The Broken Butterfly Caitlin Ricci © 2017 All Rights Reserved Some days Carter found it almost easy to be around Malphas. There were afternoons where Malphas would get Jamison and Carter drive-through cheeseburgers for lunch. He would sit quietly next to Jamison as if he was attempting to be on his best behavior during their lunch hour. During those afternoons, Carter could almost forget who Malphas was, what he was, and pretend he might have simply been a man Jamison was interested in and not the demon he actually was. Then there were those times, like now, when Malphas was stretched out on the couch by himself while the three of them watched TV in the evenings. It had become routine since Carter had started staying with them. They each had a few slices of pizza in front of them, but unlike a normal person, Malphas had his pizza hovering in front of his face, close enough that he hardly had to move to take a bite, and whenever he wanted to turn the channel, he wiggled his fingers at the TV instead of using a remote. Carter would have said something about how very nonhuman he was being, but it really didn’t matter. Malphas had gotten better about trying not to act so strangely when he was out with them or when he visited them at the precinct, and that was the important thing to remember when dealing with a demon. He was trying. Sometimes he still made light bulbs explode or people inexplicably changed their minds around him, especially when it benefited him or Jamison, but for the most part, Malphas was pretending to be just another normal human in the world. It was a relief not to have to feel like he had to constantly supervise the demon and remind him when he was acting out. Two months ago, when Malphas had first come barreling into their lives, Carter would have never thought Malphas was anything other than a monster, and some days he hadn’t changed much at all, but he was always trying to be better. If only to please Jamison and stay on his good side. Carter froze as he felt something warm drape over his shoulder. It still unnerved him sometimes to have his shadow around, especially since it was just a feeling and nothing nearly as corporeal as Malphas was. That would have made it easier, he was sure, if he could see whatever it was, whoever it was, that was following him around almost constantly. “Is he here?” Carter asked Malphas. He’d started to give his shadow a gender. It made referring to him easier. Malphas glanced over and then lifted his black eyes to something just above Carter’s shoulder. “Yep.” After a second, he added, “Well, it’s not my fault he can’t see you. Clearly you don’t belong in this realm. You should really go away.” “That’s rich coming from a demon,” Carter replied, instantly coming to his shadow’s defense for no reason at all. Jamison looked between them but said nothing. He’d been getting between them less and less. They hadn’t needed him to play referee when Malphas had shown no real interest in hurting Carter lately. There was the occasional jibe about him being an idiot, but even that had turned mostly playful. Warmth spread down his shoulder to his arm, and Carter lifted his palm as the comfortable feeling flowed to his hand. He closed his eyes and imagined that whatever it was following him was holding his hand. Carter felt the slightest bit of pressure, but it wasn’t much, and he was half-certain he was actually imagining the whole thing. “Hey,” he whispered. He could almost believe that he, whatever it was, was pushing back against him too. Jamison got up from where he’d been sitting, and his movement distracted Carter enough that he lost the connection with his shadow. “I wish I knew his name,” Carter said as he glanced behind him. Mal snorted. “Why? He’s not actually part of this plane. He’s like…déjà vu or something like that. You know he’s here. I know he’s here. But he doesn’t actually exist here. It’s weird. He’s not a ghost or something like that. He’s stuck.” That got Carter’s attention in a hurry, and Jamison paused on his way into the kitchen as well. “What do you mean he’s stuck?” Jamison asked Mal. “Just that he’s where he is because he’s trapped there. It’s hard to explain to people who aren’t dead yet. When you die, I’ll show you.” Mal shrugged.

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Meet the Author

Caitlin was fortunate growing up to be surrounded by family and teachers that encouraged her love of reading. She has always been a voracious reader, and that love of the written word easily morphed into a passion for writing. She comes from a military family, and the men and women of the armed forces are close to her heart. She also enjoys gardening and horseback riding in the Colorado Rockies where she calls home with her wonderful husband and their two dogs. Her belief that there is no one true path to happily ever after runs deeply through all of her stories.

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Saturday, March 4, 2017

Guns N' Boys: Bloodbath by K.A. Merikan


Title:  Guns n' Boys: Bloodbath
Series: Guns n' Boys 6
Author: K.A. Merikan
Publisher: Acerbi & Villani ltd.
Release Date: 4th March 2017
Heat Level: 4 - Lots of Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 115 000 words
Genre: Romance, Thriller/Suspense, mafia, organized crime, cartel, adopted, undercover, homophobia, assassin

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Synopsis

“I don’t even know who I am anymore.” “All you need to know is that you’re mine.” Seth would follow Domenico to the depths of hell. He promised to always be at Domenico’s side. But hell becomes all too real when they infiltrate the world of Toro - a notoriously security-obsessed arms dealer, who has eyes and ears everywhere. Seth becomes unable to steal even a moment of intimacy with Domenico, and the tension grinds them down each day. Beyond the deceptive paradise of Toro’s villa, violence is an everyday occurrence, and the swimming pool could just as well be filled with blood. To survive, Seth has to become the man Domenico needs him to be, but in the process, he might lose who he truly is. With Seth trained up, and Mark as backup, victory is so close Domenico can taste it. They just need to prove themselves to Toro as valuable assets. With each day though, Seth seems to be drifting away from Domenico, hidden behind a mask of cruelty and indifference. It is exactly what Domenico asked of him, so why is it so difficult to see Seth become his mirror image? POSSIBLE SPOILERS: Themes: mafia, cartel, assassin, organized crime, homophobia, human trafficking, undercover, family ties Genre: Dark, twisted romance / crime thriller Erotic content: Explicit scenes Length: ~115,000 words WARNING: Adult content. If you are easily offended, this book is not for you. ‘Guns n’ Boys’ is a gritty story of extreme violence, offensive language, abuse, and morally ambiguous protagonists. Behind the morbid facade, there is a splash of inappropriate dark humor, and a love story that will crawl under your skin.

Excerpt

“He doesn’t know us yet, but he will once I’m done with him,” Domenico said in a voice so chilling Seth felt odd about having wanted his hands all over in the morning, just hours before. Then again, even now, Domenico’s cool demeanor wasn’t a deterrent. If this side of Dom were something Seth truly despised, he’d have taken any opportunity to leave Dom many times over. Which of course he didn’t because he was a dumb, fat moth to Domenico’s flame, and he’d stick around no matter how many times he got burned. The prisoner spat out some bloodied saliva and grinned, shaking his head. “Who are you even working for?” Domenico let out a cloud of smoke, which swirled in the dim space. “We’re working for ourselves, and we’ve had an excellent track record so far.” The man laughed, shaking his head wildly. “You’re in way above your head! What do you think is in that box, huh? A golden machine gun? Diamonds? You will regret ever stepping foot on our boat.” Anger boiled over in Seth, and he planted his foot in the man’s stomach. Bile rose in his throat when he thought that the bloodshed and the risk they’d taken to hijack the vessel could have been for nothing. Dom shifted on top of the trunk. “What is in the trunk?” he asked, almost softly, and nodded at Seth. A signal to keep going. To torture. First beat up, and then what? Cut off the guy’s fingers? The man curled up as much as he could with his hands tied to the chair, and Seth hesitated, only to get a nasty surprise kick to the shin when their prisoner decided attack was the best way of protecting himself. “You motherfucker!” This time, Seth had no mercy. He kicked the bastard’s stomach so hard the chair twisted, and he fell over, trapping one of his wrists between the chair and the floor. The choked scream did not soften Seth’s resolve that he was doing the right thing now. This was a man working for a cartel, caught on his way to deliver some goods to Raul Moreno. Why would he be worthy of Seth’s pity anyway? Domenico leaned forward, watching the man’s face twist in discomfort. “What’s in the trunk?” The mercenary gave a breathless laugh. “Something as common as mosquitoes,” he uttered, and it must have piqued Dom’s interest, because he stood up and approached. “What then? Cocaine?” The man grinned at them with his reddish teeth. “More than that.” Seth stood back at the other side of the tiny cabin and crossed his arms on his chest. This was one guessing game he wasn’t about to play with the bastard. Domenico sighed and slowly lowered himself. The burning end of the cigarette in his hand was bright red when it pressed against the mercenary’s cheek. The fucker gave a choked noise, clenching his teeth so hard Seth could practically hear them crack. “You sure you don’t want to tell me? You’re dead anyway, so what is it to you?” asked Domenico. “Well, it’s not explosives, so why don’t you just check yourself?” the man hissed after taking a few raspy breaths. Watching it made Seth so tense his muscles felt like made out of concrete. Domenico sighed and looked back at the trunk. “It’s sealed,” Miguel said from his spot at the door. “I know,” Dom muttered, still gazing at the piece of luggage that might as well hold a medium-sized fridge. The prisoner laughed. “Go on. Or are you scared of Raul Moreno?” Seth rolled his eyes. “Pathetic attempt at reverse psychology there.” The guy looked back at him with a frown, and Seth could bet he had no idea what that meant. Domenico stayed silent, then pulled out a knife and presented it to Seth, handle first. “Open the trunk.” Seth took the knife and approached the leather-bound box, but he licked his lips and watched the seal, giving himself a few more seconds. He wasn’t exactly afraid of it being explosives, since he doubted their prisoner would encourage them this way, but on the other hand, maybe that was exactly what it was, since the man had to understand by now that he would die soon anyway. But Domenico knew his job like no other man, and he must have thought of that possibility. If he insisted Seth open the trunk, it had to be fine, even if the contents turned out to be disappointing, like a batch of Raul Moreno’s favorite popcorn. Seth still decided to ask. “Are you sure? What if it’s a caiman? “Just be careful. Nice and slow,” said Dom, moving his hand to their prisoner’s neck when Seth kneeled in front of the trunk. The paper seal marked by some symbols and letters beckoned Seth’s attention, and it almost felt like he was about to slice into flesh. How would they explain the open seal upon arrival? Would they even need to? Maybe it was just a formality no one paid attention to anymore? His stomach clenched as he cut through the paper. The cracked and dusty leather suggested it wasn’t the first time the trunk had been used, and its size held no answers as to what secret it could hold. Slowly, he opened several metal latches, and then three leather straps that further secured the lid in place. The silence inside the cabin was absolute, and he even heard the rubbing of leather against leather. His last thought before he raised the top of the trunk, which felt oddly heavy and sturdy, as if there was metal under the thick layer of leather, was that it had to be a very specialized container if it had been so clearly used for a long time.

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Meet the Author

K. A. Merikan is the pen name for Kat and Agnes Merikan, a team of writers, who are taken for sisters with surprising regularity. Kat’s the mean sergeant and survival specialist of the duo, never hesitating to kick Agnes’s ass when she’s slacking off. Her memory works like an easy-access catalogue, which allows her to keep up with both book details and social media. Also works as the emergency GPS. Agnes is the Merikan nitpicker, usually found busy with formatting and research. Her attention tends to be scattered, and despite pushing thirty, she needs to apply makeup to buy alcohol. Self-proclaimed queen of the roads. They love the weird and wonderful, stepping out of the box, and bending stereotypes both in life and books. When you pick up a Merikan book, there’s one thing you can be sure of – it will be full of surprises.

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