Monday, April 30, 2018

Amending Plans by CM Corrett


Title:  Amending Plans
Author: CM Corett
Publisher:  NineStar Press
Release Date: April 30, 2018
Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 40300
Genre: Contemporary, BDSM- mild; D/s, workplace romance, surveyors, camping, humor

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Synopsis

Luc Weston is employed by his uncle as a cartographer. He’s an office dwelling creator of maps and plans, but as his uncle’s heir, he must learn all aspects of the company. Specifically, surveying. The upside—spending time with the gorgeous surveyor, Rick Masters, in a cozy cabin. The downside—the cabin is in the woods. Luc hates nature, and nature hates him. He’s got the injuries and bites to prove it. How can he impress Rick in such a foreign and hostile environment?

Rick Masters can’t believe he has to babysit the boss’s privileged nephew for two weeks. Come on, the man turned up for a mountain survey wearing skinny jeans and toting a suitcase on wheels. But Luc’s attitude and self-deprecating humor has surprised him. Perhaps he’s misjudged him? He’s nothing like the robust outdoorsmen Rick is usually attracted to, and yet…those skinny jeans sure hug him in all the right places. But Rick has a plan for his life, and a man like Luc Weston could never be part of it. No way!

Excerpt


Amending Plans
CM Corett © 2018
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
Luc Weston pressed his heel down onto the floor to halt his nervous leg jiggling and leaned forward in his chair. “I know what surveyors do! Why do I need to follow one around for two weeks?”

Luc’s uncle, Jeremiah Weston, sighed. “I expect all my employees to participate in the job-swap program, and that includes you, Luc.”

Needing an outlet for his agitation, Luc stood up and paced around his uncle’s office. The workspace was uncluttered, organized, and neat, just like his uncle, and provided plenty of room for pacing. The large tilted drafting board beside the window caught his attention, and he stopped to stare at the displayed survey plan. “I know, I know, but I’m not just an employee. Surely I’m different?” He winced. Okay, that had come out wrong. He hadn’t meant to imply he considered himself better or more important than his colleagues, just…different. Shit.

Jeremiah frowned. “Yes, you are different. It’s important for every employee to understand the various roles within the company, but it’s vital for you, Luc. If you want to take over this company one day, you need to experience every aspect of the business. I need to make sure I’m leaving the company with someone who understands not only our drafting practices, but the surveying and other offsite processes too.”

Luc drew in a deep breath. When his uncle spoke in his official “boss talk,” there wasn’t much room for negotiation, but Luc had to try. “Sure, I get that, but I understand the surveying side of the business. I practically grew up here. I’ve been surrounded by cartographers and surveyors since I was six years old. Hell, old Harry Miller taught me to mark up a surveyor’s field book as soon as I could hold a drafting pen.”

“Yes, you’ve gained a lot of knowledge over the years, but hearing stories and anecdotes from a bunch of surveyors is not the same as experiencing what they perform in the field. And yes,” he held up his hand as Luc opened his mouth, “you interpret field books as well as anyone, but physically finding coordinates and hammering in marker pegs is another aspect altogether.”

“Yeah, I know.” He grimaced. “Out in the wilds of nature and all that.”

“Is that what’s worrying you?”

“Come on, Uncle J. You know how useless I am in the great outdoors. Surely our one and only camping trip convinced you I was destined to be a city boy.” Luc’s mouth twisted into a wry smile at the memory. He had been twelve years old and had begged his uncle to take him camping in the nearby national park. During the anticipation stage, his excitement had been off the charts. Once they’d arrived—not so much. Between his tent-erecting ineptitude and his determination to trip over every rock, tree root, and tent peg, the experience had soon lost its promise.

And then there were the sounds—scary, predators-coming-to-get-you-in-the-night sounds.

Jeremiah gave him a stern stare. “You’re not twelve years old anymore, and this is your career. And the future of our family company. So, you’ll do as I ask.”

Luc stood, hands on hips, in front of his uncle’s desk. “Or what?”

Jeremiah rubbed his hand across his face. “Or nothing. You’re twenty-six years old, Luc. You’re a damn fine cartographic draftsman—one of our best. I’m not about to ground you like some disobedient teenager, and I’m surely not going to fire you or even demote you, but I will be severely disappointed in you if you refuse to do this.”

Oh, God. Luc dropped his hands to his sides, and his shoulders slumped. In the past, he had clashed with his uncle over a few issues, and the resulting anger and the consequences were understandable, but disappointment? Hell, no. He hated disappointing the man who’d raised him and had always been there for him. No way could he win the argument, but perhaps the details were negotiable. “Okay. Okay, I’ll go.”

“Thank you.”

“But does the surveyor have to be Rick Masters? Can’t I tag along with someone else?”

“Why not Rick? Rick Masters is our best and most experienced surveyor, and we were lucky to hire him two years ago. He had job offers from multiple companies. Yes, he can be a little gruff, and he’s a man of few words, but I’ve always found him to be decent and hardworking. I have a lot of respect for the man. What do you have against him?”

“I have nothing against him, but I feel… It’s just…” His heart hammered in his chest. How could he explain his feelings for Rick Masters? He couldn’t admit—to his uncle—that Rick Masters made his heart race and his dick behave inappropriately every time he caught a glimpse of the man. No, not the type of explanation his uncle would want to hear. He cleared his throat. “Actually, I think I’d get more out of the experience if I paired up with someone else. What about Jessica Taylor or Stan Myers?”

Jeremiah frowned. “If this was coming from anyone else, I’d think they had a problem working with a gay man, but as Rick and you are both gay, I really don’t— Ahh!” He nodded. “Are you worried about the gossip, or is there something else you want to tell me?”

“Well, I…”

“You know what?” Jeremiah raised both palms. “I don’t want to hear it. What you think or feel about another of my employees is none of my business. You’re a professional, and I know you won’t let those emotions interfere with your job. The same goes for your dislike of nature.”

“Yes, sir.” What else could he say? He had no legitimate reason to refuse, and he would have to suck it up and follow Rick around for a while. Two weeks. With Rick Masters.

And field trips into the wilderness.

Shit.

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Meet the Author

CM Corett is an Australian author of M/M romance who has given up on trying to limit herself to one sub-genre. She writes contemporary, historical, sci-fi, and time travel… and she may have a few paranormal drafts hidden under the bed! An avid writer and reader of love between men, she has lived in the USA and traveled the world gathering inspiration for her stories. She loves movies, superheroes, and video games with awesome graphics. She hates housework and anyone who expects her to notice (or care about) the dust on top of the fridge.

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Rubble and the Wreckage by Rodd Clark



Title:  Rubble and the Wreckage
Series: The Gabriel Church Tales, Book One
Author: Rodd Clark
Publisher:  NineStar Press
Release Date: April 30, 2018
Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 110100
Genre: Contemporary, murderer, reporter, enemies to lovers, thriller

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Synopsis


Everything Crumbles

Gabriel Church knows you can't take a life without first understanding just how feeble it is. If you desire murder, you hold a life in your hand. Whether you release it to grant life or grip tighter to end it, it is at your command and discretion.

Gabriel is a serial killer with a story to tell.

Christian Maxwell studied abnormal psychology in college but chose instead to focus on a career in writing. His background comes in handy when he thinks of writing about a serial killer. He can't think of anyone more qualified to write the story of Gabriel Lee Church and in the murderer's own words.

It's been done before, but never with a killer who has yet to be captured or convicted. With nothing more than a gentleman's understanding between them, Christian records Gabriel's life story. Gabriel doesn't ask for his complicity, nor does he ask for his silence. Christian's interest in the man, though, is fast becoming something more than academic.

When Christian and Gabriel become unexpected friends and then lovers, the question remains: What is Gabriel's endgame…and why does he want his story told?

Excerpt


Rubble and the Wreckage
Rodd Clark © 2018
All Rights Reserved

Introduction
“Tell me your story,” Christian Maxwell began, wetting his lips and leaning in. He stared at the killer across the table and rested his forearms on the notepad before him, watching how those pale eyes were darting from side to side as he surveyed his surroundings. Even with his look of nonchalant detachment, it’s clear he was a man who lived his life on a razor’s edge and nothing escaped his observations.

Gabriel Church looked back at the writer. His eyes implored, practically begging for good and gory details. The man squinted a bit in excitement for that which was to follow, glassy-eyed in anticipation. His expression was wanting. Gabe had seen that look many times before.

Gabe was reminded of that old saying “Better the devil you know.” Although he barely knew this guy, he might as well be making money off his story as anyone else. Just like the first time he thought of telling what happened, the memories came through as something indifferent and emotionless, and with more afterthought than close consideration.

“Ever been out to the Florida Keys?” Gabe asked. When he only received a nod from Maxwell to his question, he continued absently, “For me it was like driving to the Keys, a few miles over the speed limit on that old US Route 1—you know, the one they called the Highway that Goes to Sea—under fleecy clouds with the fresh coastal winds slapping you in your face, under a vast, unending blue on blue…it is rather freeing.” His hands wrapped around the dusty old cover of the book he was holding, more as an effect than something to read.

With a faraway gaze in his eyes, Christian listened to him speaking. He pretended to jot notes down and concentrating more on that distant expression on Church’s face. Christian let the words take him to Florida, where he imagined the wind slapping his hair, the sun beating down as he rode in the passenger seat of Church’s mental trip along Highway 1. It was going to be a good book when he finished it.

He didn’t want to interrupt the man but couldn’t resist. “It didn’t begin in Florida did it? I presumed it happened elsewhere.”

The killer’s posture changed as he replied. He sat up straight in the chair, his eyes narrowed. “If you think you know where it started then why are we sitting around hashing old news?” His voice was steady and cold and dampness grew under Christian’s pits.

“Because no one has ever asked you for your side of it. Usually a serial murderer doesn’t get a chance to explain why he murders. And I”—pointing to his chest—“want to give you that opportunity.”

“Mighty big of you,” Gabe said as he reclined backward in his chair and stared at him in knowing, mocking fashion. It was as if he was acquiescing solely because it represented an interesting way to spend his idle time… He rubbed his rough forefinger across the lip of the wine glass as a carnal abstraction as he watched Maxwell jot his notes, even though they hadn’t even begun his tale. “Shouldn’t you wait till I start to speak before you scribble down all those pretty words?”

Christian looked up and smiled sheepishly. “It’s just mood stuff. You’ll have to get used to that early on—meaning my process.” He put his pen down and folded his hands neatly to hide his notes. “I’m a little fastidious or obsessive at times.”

“No worries. The same has been said of me.”

The bent smile of a killer reappeared and twisted Church’s face into a mocking evil caricature, sending a shiver down Christian’s spine. He smiled back and returned a look that seemed to place them on equal understanding. It was going to be tough yet totally worth it, he thought. At least after the book was complete. And so he picked up a pen and fell headlong into his task and flashed another imploring gaze in the direction of his sexy study subject then waited.

Gabe recognized the untidy anticipation and reluctantly continued, “Actually, it began in Texas, still we need to go back to where the…umm, desires, I guess is the word, first came into clear focus, don’t we? I mean, you want the full picture, don’t you?”

When Christian didn’t even offer a conciliatory word, Gabe continued. “Before Florida, before Seattle, I had been somewhere else… It was a better place for me because it still held some type of promise. Nothing exactly carved into stone…if you’ll pardon the pun.” Church’s head lolled back as if he were about to break into a hearty laugh.

He was a dangerous, sick man. Anyone could see that. His reference to the markers of his varied victims, as well as his nonchalant manner in describing his affinity to murder, was unsettling, even for someone as akin to pathology as he was. In college, Christian Maxwell was known for a dark sense of humor and an uncomfortably quiet nature. It was off-putting to many of his peers. His so-called friends would jokingly offer that it was going to be Christian who would be famous, more for the salvo of bullets that hit other students from his safe vantage in some random clock tower or rooftop.

The look on Maxwell’s face, as he sat across from Gabe, was pensive as if he was about to interrupt again but questioned the insolence. The killer had nothing but time, and didn’t like breaking his train of thought so early.

“You’re looking like you want to derail the train, my boy. So what’s your affliction, Adelaide? You have some thoughts you wanna share?”

Christian hung his head in shameful anticipation of the words that would follow. His efforts in getting the interview were substantial, and he didn’t want to fuck up before he even got the first few chapters down on paper. He wanted it to linger, to drag out the tale and capture every subtle nuance. He thought the killer might become agitated with schoolboy innocence and enthusiasm.

In truth, Gabe was enjoying the salivating younger man hanging on his every word, like a lover anticipating their next stimulating, wet kisses.

“I’m sorry. I apologize, I do… I just wanted to ask you about the first time you killed?”

Gabe laid the book on the table at his side and crossed his arms. “Patience is a virtue, son. To know the story, we have to go back. Back to before I would gain fame with my exploits.”

Purchase

NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble


Meet the Author


Rodd lives in Dallas, TX and can be reached through his web presence at RoddClark.com.

If you were to ask him, he would say that enjoys M/M mysteries and suspenseful romance mixed in with his thrills. “Give me a good ole spy novel or fantasy to keep me up at night,” he might add. When he isn’t writing or reading, he claims to be the zookeeper of his menagerie of critters who call his place home. From cats to dogs to friendly raccoons, he enjoys them all.

With a dark and distinctively disturbing voice, his characters are flawed but intriguing; such as the main character of Gabriel Church in his romantic fiction series The Gabriel Church Tales, which begins with Rubble and the Wreckage.

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