Kayla Jameth's Blog, page 6

Lexicon for A Tested Love: A-D

Acrocorinth—"Upper Corinth" is the acropolis of Corinth. Helios and Poseidon vied for the patronage of Corinth. Briareus ruled that the Gulf of Corinth belonged to Poseidon and the Acrocorinth to Helios.
Acropolis (plural: acropleis)—means "upper city" and was situated atop a defensible hill. Often the original core of a city, the acropolis housed the temples and palaces of the polis.
Adonis—a prince of Kypros. A young man of unsurpassed beauty, he was beloved of Persephone, Aphrodite, and Apollo. He was killed by a wild boar. Some versions of the story say Ares, in a fit of jealousy, transformed himself into a boar and slew Aphrodite's lover. Others credit Artemis with sending the boar as revenge for Aphrodite causing the death of Hippolyta. Aphrodite turned his blood into the anemone.
Aegis—Zeus made his "thunder-shield" from the skin of the she-goat who nursed him as an infant. The word aigis means both goat-skin and stormy weather. Nothing could be more appropriate for the god of thunder.
Aesop—a fabulist, a story teller specializing in fables. He was born in the 6th century BC and was known as an extremely ugly slave. At some point he earned his freedom. King Croesus of Lydia sent him on a diplomatic mission to Delphi. He insulted the Delphians in some fashion and they repaid him sentencing him to death for a spurious claim of temple theft. He was thrown from a cliff. The gods punished the Delphians by sending a miasma which caused pestilence and famine.
Agōgē—the Spartans’ rigorous education and training program. A fierce and sometimes deadly training all Spartan males underwent from the time of their seventh birthday until they entered the standing army at age twenty. Both girls and boys took part in similar groups; although, military training was not part of the girls’ educations. Both genders took part in dancing, singing, oratory and athletic competitions. In addition, the boys learned stealth, hunting, military training and loyalty to their agélai, syssitia and Sparta.
     · At age seven, boys were taken from their mother’s home and given to a paidonómos or boy-herder to supervise. The group known as an agélai, or herd, would take the place of their families. They were all “brothers.”
     · When they turned twelve, each boy would be given only one item of clothing a year, the phoinikis, a scarlet cloak. Anything else they might need they were expected to steal. However, any boy caught stealing was punished by flogging. They were barely fed enough, to teach them how to deal with hunger on campaign and to encourage theft.
     · Some boys were given an additional honor at eighteen by being chosen for the Krypteia. These warriors, the kryptes, were the elite of their agélai and destined to be officers in the army.
     · At age twenty, the boys joined the reserves. They would now be members of the Spartan army until they retired at age sixty.
     · Boys who failed at any point did not become Spartiates/Spartan citizens.
Agélai, or herd—a group of boys of similar age going through the agōgē.
Agora—"gathering place" or "assembly", was the central place for athletic, artistic, spiritual, and political life of the Greek city-state. During early times, freemen gathered here for military duty or to hear the decrees of the ruling kings or council. Later, the agora became a market place as well. The Roman equivalent word is forum.
Amphora(plural: amphorae)—a vase-shaped ceramic container with two handles on either side of a long narrow neck. Most taper to a pointed base to allow them to be stored upright by embedding them in sand or soft ground. In kitchens and shops, racks held the amphorae.
Amykles—a village south and west of the original four unwalled villages making up the polis of Sparta. While not one of the originals, it was later added. The village contained the sacred precinct of Apollo Hayakinthios and the tomb of the Spartan Prince Hyacinthus, one of Apollo’s lovers.
Andron— dining room for the men. A small hearth in the corner is the family hearth/altar to Hestia. Once it would have been the fire that meals were cooked upon, now it is the symbol of the family's domestic worship. Offerings of meat and drink are made to Hestia at every meal.
Anemoi—the winds. Sometimes represented by gusts of wind, winged men, or even horses. Each was associated with one of the cardinal directions and a season. In their equine form, they drew Zeus' chariot and fathered immortal steeds. The Spartans were said to sacrifice a horse to the winds on Mount Taygetos.
Apollo Hayakinthios—a deity only worshipped in Sparta. The deity Hyakinthos predated the arrival of Apollo and was subsequently subsumed into the Greek deity. The epithet Hayakinthios partially refers to the previous deity and also Prince Hyacinthus.
     · It was not uncommon for the invading Greek deities to take on aspects of a previous deity and even use the fallen deity’s name as an epithet. These combined gods were local and considered to be merely aspects of the primary god.
     · The story of Prince Hyacinthus’ death is possibly the ritualization of human sacrifice.
Apophorá—the portion of a helot's harvest that is owed to his Spartiate, ranging from half of everything his klēros produced to a set amount. The portion probably varied over the centuries.
Apotropaic magic, or warding magic—the use of gestures, phrases, or amulets to ward off some unpleasant event, or more specifically in the case of the Greeks, the evil eye. Most people have seen the eyes painted on the prow of the ancient Greek triremes. This is a form of apotropaic magic designed to ward off disaster.
Apothetae or “deposits”—deformed or imperfect babies that were exposed soon after birth. Exposure of infants was not uncommon in the ancient world. Oedipus is a famous example.
Archon—ruler or lord. The title could refer to anything from the ruler to a public official to "master of the tables" in a syssitia.
Argos—an ancient Mycenaean settlement on the Argolid plain. The inhabitants, Argives, were Sparta's rivals for control of the Peloponnesus.
Artemis Orthia—another instance of a Greek deity taking on aspects of a previous deity. Orthia refers to a wooden idol found by the Spartans. The older goddess required human sacrifices. When she was subsumed as an aspect of Artemis, her bloodthirsty nature changed. Artemis is considered the protector of children in Sparta, primarily girls, but boys also benefited from her protection.
     · The sanctuary of Artemis Orthia became a place where the young warriors were tried and tested. Every youth was flogged until they bled, offering their blood in a less fatal fashion. It became such a spectacle that an amphitheater was erected for spectators to watch.
Atê—the goddess of mischief, delusion, ruin, and folly. She often led men to their ruin. At Hera’s instigation, Atê has even tricked Zeus.
Athena Poliachos—the patron goddess of Sparta. The epithet Poliachos means protector of the city.
Atlas—the Titan who bore the heavens on his shoulders. He taught farmers and sailors astronomy and caused the heavens to turn. Perseus turned him into the Atlas Mountain with Medusa’s head.
Aura—one of the nymphs of breezes.
Aulos (plural: auloi)—a reed pipe played as accompaniment to poetry, athletic competitions, to keep the rowers on triremes in pace, at sacrifices and dramas. The aulos is the symbol of the muse Euterpe.
Black soup—Spartan staple was made up of boiled pig’s blood, vinegar and salt. The Spartan army mainly ate this concoction. A man from Sybaris, a city infamous for luxury and gluttony, ate the soup and said, “Now I know why the Spartans do not fear death.”
Brazier—an upright metal bowl or box for holding fire or coals. They were used for lighting, heating, and cooking.
Caeadas Chasm—a chasm in the Taygetos mountain range where criminals, traitors, and captives were cast into. Modern archeology has found the remains of adults in the chasm, confirming its use for capital punishment.
Cerberus—the three-headed dog that guards the gates to the Underworld.
Chattel—belonging or possession. Chattel slaves were not people, they were items.
Chiton—a form of clothing worn by men and women in Ancient Greece. Also known as the tunica. The Doric chiton was simple, without sleeves. The cloth was pinned at the shoulders by fibulae for women and only over the left shoulder if the man was doing something strenuous. The fabric was gathered at the waist by a zone for women, zoster for men, also known as a girdle. The women’s chiton fell to the floor, the men’s to just under their knees. Male slaves wore a much briefer garment.
Creeping Disease—ancient name for herpes.
Cyclops—three one-eyed giants who forged Zeus' lightning bolts, Hade's helm of invisibility, and Poseidon's ground-shaking trident in thanks for Zeus' freeing them from Tartaros.
     · A lawless band of primitive cannibals Odysseus encountered on the isle of Hypereia. To save his men, Odysseus blinded Polyphemus, the son of Poseidon and earned the god's hatred.
Daemon—a spirit, almost always benign. They include nature spirits, ghosts, and deified heroes. Some daemons were dangerous.
Demeter—the goddess of agriculture, grain, and the harvest and mother of Hade's wife Persephone.
Diamastigosis—a ritual flogging of the youths of Sparta held in Artemis Orthia's honor. The Orthia was a wooden statue the Spartans discovered when they invaded Lacedaemonia. The idol inspired madness and blood lust. To propitiate the goddess, men were chosen by lot to be sacrificed on her altar. Later, Lycurgus decreed that all Spartan youths be scourged and thus their blood stained the altar.
Dionysus—the god of wine, parties, and drunkenness. He was often portrayed as an effeminate young man. He dwelt in Delphi during the winter months when Apollo journeys to Hyperborea.
Doric, Aeolic or Ionic—different Greek dialects. The Spartans spoke Doric.

Dryad (plural: Dryades)—nymphs of the trees, woods, mountain forests, and sacred groves. Some were associated with certain trees; others were bound to them, dying when their tree died. Ancient Greek forests were primarily found high in the mountains as most of the lowland forests had been cleared for agriculture. Therefore, the Greeks thought of the Dryades as mountain-dwelling nymphs.

Taste in Men

Thanks so much for having me back on your blog, Kayla. I love getting the chance to come hang out here. All those hot Spartans lounging about all over the place! I’m in Heaven. ;)
I’m afraid I can’t claim my new novel, Taste In Men, offers a Mediterranean climate or tanned, powerful warriors (you need Kayla’s books for that) but it does feature a socially awkward IT guy with a fear of commitment!
… I’m not sure I’m really selling this.
Anyway. I’m delighted to finally be able to announce the release of Taste In Men. This novel took me a long time to write, but I’m very proud of it. Taylor Dale is probably the most complicated character I’ve written to date, and who doesn’t love a complex, emotionally damaged main character?
I’m going to stop talking now and let the blurb speak for itself. Thanks again, Kayla!
BlurbTaylor Dale is terrified of getting tied down. After years working a job he doesn’t like in a city he’s always wanted to leave, he is finally on the verge of starting over. He just has to make it through his two-week’s notice.
A team-building weekend throws a spanner in the works when Taylor meets Charles. Charles is definitely not Taylor’s type, but attraction sparks hard and fast between them. Against his better judgment Taylor decides there might not be any harm in a weekend of no-strings-attached fun.
But Taylor never was very lucky.
One night with Charles threatens to turn his world upside down, if Taylor is willing to let it. In a panic, Taylor pushes Charles away, but distance isn’t enough to stop him wanting the man. Soon, Taylor realizes he has to take a chance and see if there might be a future between him and Charles. But for that to happen he’s going to have to hope Charles will answer his call.
ExcerptTaylor stood off from the main throng of his colleagues. It was a dreary Friday morning, cold for June and wet although the forecast Taylor had looked up on the Met Office app on his phone suggested conditions were due to improve later in the day. It hadn’t escaped Taylor’s notice that, thanks to the team-building weekend, he was at work earlier than normal. He was trying to distract himself from dwelling on that fact, by people-watching his colleagues.
It said a lot about Taylor’s time at Webb that, despite spending almost every day for the past six years with these people, Taylor knew next to nothing about them. In a way, it was strange to think he might soon never see any of them again, but Taylor didn’t think it likely he would lose sleep over it.
Taylor had never felt like part of a team, but that had been his choice. He took the job at Webb Glasgow when he was eighteen for the simple reason he needed a wage. Working for a company specializing in commercial and industrial building ventilation systems and products was, Taylor was pretty certain, never going to be anyone’s dream job. On the day he signed on the dotted line in his cheap supermarket suit he made himself a promise that in ten years his time at Webb would be a distant memory.
Six years later, more than half a decade of training courses and personal reviews and Continuous Professional Development sessions, he was about to begin cashing in on that promise. Having spent those same six years working nearly every evening and weekend on the project that, only a few months earlier, had paid off in spectacular.
He wondered if the managing directors realized how fucked they were going to be without him. Taylor doubted it. He knew a lot of them saw him as just another corporate lackey willing to jump through any hoop presented to him. That was a reputation earned during his first few years with the company when Taylor had chased every promotion and pay rise even when at times he thought the amount of sucking up might kill him. Taylor thought it was because of that and his fake smile and even faker attitude that the bosses didn’t seem to realize that despite the other colleagues in his office, including Malcolm, Taylor was the IT Department. That wasn’t arrogance on Taylor’s part, it was simple fact, and Taylor wished he could set up a hidden camera to see the chaos he knew was inevitably going to follow his departure.
A lot of sacrifices. That was Taylor’s overwhelming memory of his time at Webb, but then that had been the running theme of his life since his early teens. It didn’t bother him. Not really. Especially not now it had paid off. And he hadn’t gone completely without. Time could always be found for jaunts to Glasgow’s gay bars and nightclubs and there was never a self-imposed deadline so pressing a pretty, pampered twink couldn’t take precedence.no relationships, no friendships requiring any sort of effort, and no other commitments that he couldn’t get out of in a hurry. Ensuring he never got tied down had always been central to the plan.


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Author BioBorn and raised in bonnie Scotland, Douglas Black writes contemporary MM erotic romance. Welcome to your fantasy.
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Andreas and Theron's Tale Continues with Dreamspinner Press

I just signed a contract with Dreamspinner for A Tested Love, the second book in the Apollo's Men Spartan arc! I'm so excited.

Blurb:
Abandoned and once more alone on his homestead, Andreas goes about his life trying to forget the seductive promises Theron made.
Theron is given his first kill list for the annual Krypteia. Part way down the scroll, he finds Andreas' name. Someone must have seen them together. Now that person wants to punish them both and test Theron's loyalty to Sparta at the same time.
Sent to kill Andreas, Theron must find some way to come to terms with his former attraction to the man, before it destroys him as well as Andreas.
The third book in the Spartan arc, A Shared Love, is already in third draft stage. So I know what I'll be doing between editing and promoting A Tested Love.

Vote for A Spartan Love

A Spartan Love has been nominated for Bleeding Heart Blog's Best M/M Romance. If you enjoyed the story, consider going to vote.

Theron is up for Best Book Boyfriend. Please show him some love.

The voting begins today and continues through the 21st. You can vote once daily until the polls close.

Tyler, Dilbert, and the GRPFATAAHDSS

Hi, my best mate, Tyler Knoll, is a bit shy and hates having to tell everyone how great his book is, so I offered to write this blog for him. Thanks so much for the invite.
Who am I? Well, most of my friends call me Dilbert. You'd think I'd be offended at being compared to a nerdy cartoon character, but it's much better than my real name, so I don't give a rat's arse. As long as they don't call me Dil.
Tyler and me got on like a house on fire right from the start. Unlike some of the other guys I met when I arrived in the States, he was fair dinkum. A real bonzer bloke. At first we thought we were speaking different languages. What with his Southern drawl and my ocker accent, but after we spent a few Friday evenings, chewing the fat and sharing a few tinnies, we did just fine.
There were a few misunderstandings though. I still can't get over the fact that you can't drink alcohol until you're twenty one. How backward is that? But then if I had known, I'd never have invited Tyler along on that memorable Friday night, and our lives would have turned out quite differently.
So there you have it, my mate Tyler. He may not be Aussie, but he's true blue. Some guys think he's a few shrimp short of a barbie, and spends half his time away with the pixies, but they're barking up the wrong tree. The thing is, Tyler doesn't say much. It wasn't until I read this book that I realized his brain is going flat chat and his mouth can't keep up.
Don't believe me? Read the book and you'll see what I mean! You won't regret it.
At times it's side-splittingly funny. Or at least giggleworthy. Mind you some of the situations Tyler found himself in weren't funny at all. He came a gutser on more than one occasion. But he's like one of those toys that bounces back no matter how hard you push him. I had to intervene every now and then, otherwise some of the pricks he met would have walked right over him.
Some people accuse me of being manipulative, but I can assure you that I always had Tyler's best interests at heart. The trouble is that because he doesn't have a mean bone in his body, he doesn't realize other people are not as nice.
Take Rupert for example. I was furious when I discovered he set Tyler up. Threw him to the wolves or wolf in this instance. Extricating Tyler from that predicament took some tough negotiating on my part. Then there was that dickhead Gareth Evans who virtually kidnapped him. I suspected Tyler was in trouble, but what could I do? Still he survived thankfully.
After that I kept a closer eye on him. A much closer eye. I think it was worth it in the end. Why don't you do yourself a favour and read the book to find out for yourself.
May I close by saying a big thank you on Tyler's behalf. While he was too shy to appear on the blog, I'm sure he'd be happy to answer any questions you might like to ask.
Blog Tour – Tyler Knoll’s Just for Fun by A.B. GayleTitle: Tyler Knoll's Just For Fun Series (Books 1-4)Author: A.B. GayleGenre: Satire, humor, gay, gay romance, LGBTLength: NovellaPublisher:Wayward Ink Publishing
SynopsisTyler Knoll was born one wild, stormy night in April 2013.
Of course, Tyler might tell you he was born twenty years earlier, but should we believe anything he says? That’s for you to decide.
In Tyler’s first adventure—like many a gay man before him—he was SNARED by gay porn, wallowing in tales of bigger, stronger, harder….
Then his fickle mind was seduced and SHREDDED by the prospect of BDSM and slavery.
When a Big Misunderstanding SLASHED at Tyler’s sanity, almost costing him his life, he turned to another genre for his salvation. But even this encounter proved potentially hazardous—not from freezing temperatures, but at the hands of irate fans.
Finally, tired and SCREWED by his all his trials and tribulations, he discovers—like many storybook heroes before him—that sometimes Mr. Right is closer than we think.
Buy linksEveryone who bought SNARED gets a 20% discount at buying the Just for Fun composite from the WIP website! Check the website for details. WIP: http://www.waywardinkpublishing.com/?p=1278Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/Tyler-Knolls-Just-Fun-Books-ebook/dp/B00ZW6552U/Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Tyler-Knolls-Just-Fun-Books-ebook/dp/B00ZW6552U/Amazon AU: http://www.amazon.com.au/Tyler-Knolls-Just-Fun-Books-ebook/dp/B00ZW6552U/Amazon DE: http://www.amazon.de/Tyler-Knolls-Just-Fun-Books-ebook/dp/B00ZW6552U/ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-tylerknoll039sjustforfuncompositebooks14-1839904-149.html B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/tyler-knolls-just-for-fun-ab-gayle/1122175760?ean=9781925222548
Book trailer

Giveaway
Prize: $20 WIP Gift Card and 1 ebook copy of Tyler Knoll’s Just for Funa Rafflecopter giveaway

About the authorUnlike many authors, A.B. Gayle hasn’t been writing stories all her life. Instead she’s been living life.
Her travels have taken her from the fjords of Norway to the southern tip of New Zealand. In between, she’s worked in so many different towns she’s lost count. A.B. has shoveled shit in cow yards, mustered sheep, been polite to customers, traded insults with politicians. Sometimes she needs to be forgiven as she get confused as to who needs what where. 
Now living in Sydney, Australia, A.B. finally has time to allow her real life experiences to morph with her fertile imagination in order to create fiction that she hopes her readers will enjoy.
A.B. values feedback on her writing, both negative and positive.
A.B. Gayle can be found at:Website: https://abgayle.comFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/abgayle.writerTwitter: https://twitter.com/abgaylewriter
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/abgaylewriter/

Just for Fun

It's my pleasure to welcome AB Gayle to my blog. She's here to discuss her new release Just for Fun.
I've read all your m/m novels and novellas. One thing I've noticed is that you frequently write stories with one or more American protagonists. While you have been to the US more than once, you are a died-in-the-wool Aussie (pronounced Ozzie for us Americans). But strange pronunciation is not the only challenge when crossing cultures. Aussies seem to like to come up with obscure references and strange nicknames for everything. Such as calling Americans yanks or Yankees. While many Americans would just roll their eyes at such a "quaint" term, southerners often take offense.
Tyler Knoll: Y'all mind if I butt in here? Yankee and yank are mild terms to them. Dilbert tells me that back home, we're often referred to as Septic Tanks or even Seppos! Apparently it's rhyming slang (Hopefully I've spelled that right. Autocorrect switched my first attempt to "rimming slang." At least it wasn't "rimming tang" as that is something quite different. Musky. Yum.
Tyler, the main character in Just for Fun, is not only an American, but a Texan to boot. He wouldn't much care to be characterized as a Yankee. Would probably even set anyone straight on that point.
Tyler Knoll: Yes, ma'am, I sure would, and did on many occasions. Politely, of course. In the end, I said to Dilbert, "How would you like me to call you a Kiwi?" He never repeated the insult after that.
Care to share some of the challenges presented by Tyler because you chose a southern boy for your MC?
Tyler Knoll: She didn't have a choice. I am what I am.
A.B. Gayle: Shoosh! It's my turn to answer a question! Can I just say for the record that it was a pleasure and an honor to work with a Southern Boy; they are so genteel. Though I must admit that at times he was a tad garrulous. Yet to his credit, he was always guiless.
Tyler Knoll: Hey, enough of the "G" words. You know I hate them, anyway, you have a typo, it's spelled "gentle."
A.B. Gayle: It's a different word. Look it up.
Tyler Knoll goes off muttering, "I'm fixin' to."
A.B. Gayle: Quick, before he gets back. If it had been written down exactly as he speaks, noone would have understood him. Thank goodness there's no audio version. And are Southern Boys always so d...?
Tyler Knoll returns Thesaurus in hand. Genteel: polite, refined, or respectable. Well, it's better than being a Johnny Reb running around in a jacked up pick-up with the southern flag in the back window! And if you want to use big words, at least I'm not a pernicious, petulant, prick full of platitudes.
A.B. Gayle: Are you calling me a prick?
Tyler Knoll: Heck no , ma'am. I'm a Southern gentleman. I'm merely saying that it's lucky I'm not like that.
What kinds of misunderstandings did the differences in culture present the characters?
Tyler Knoll: The age thing was the first one. See, back in Australia, they can go to pubs and clubs as soon as they turn 18. Dilbert didn't know I was underage when he took me out that fateful evening. Of course I didn't tell him I was using fake ID, because he didn't ask, did he? Mind you, I wondered why he asked whether I was eighteen or not. I mean I don't look eighteen, do I?
A.B. Gayle: It wasn't so much a cultural problem. Dilbert did his best to avoid misunderstandings, but was hampered by the fact that Tyler doesn't actually say much. Very little of what goes through his brain comes out of his mouth. It needed a massive fracture of the fourth wall to allow him to reach that conclusion and get to know his friend better.
What was your favorite bit of Aussie-ism that had to go because your POV character wouldn't have understood it?
A.B Gayle: Knee trembler. Tyler didn't know what it was.
Tyler Knoll: Hey, once you explained what it was, I understood. I've had plenty of those. Not back then maybe, but plenty since we got together. In the shower....
A.B. Gayle: Shoosh. I don't think she wants specifics about your sex life. But we should thank, Kayla, at this juncture for ensuring that you were only given terms and references you would understand. Why she even spent hours helping me find a suitably sized city with multiple story office buildings, no smoking bans, sports bars and gentlemen's clubs that had penthouse suites to stand in for the real thing.
Tyler Knoll: Well, I told you we had to be vague so people couldn't track me down!
What is your favorite bit that remained? And what did you have to do to keep it there?
A.B. Gayle: "tickets on himself" but more on that later.
So tell me, AB, what American term did you find to be the strangest?
A.B. Gayle: Roomies or roommates. We call them flatmates here.
Tyler Knoll: Hey, "flat" "mates" sounds just as crazy to me. One of my roomies was quite round!
Do you have an excerpt that illustrates these differences?
Dilbert’s normally happy-go-lucky expression disappeared as he commented bitterly, “But you’d be nothing more than his personal slave.”
“Slave?” I sprang to my feet and strode over to the window. Reaching it, I turned and leaned back against the glass. There wasn’t anything to see anyway: a parking garage and sunshine that I hadn’t felt on my face for ages. “What’s wrong with being a slave? Half the PAs in this building seem to fulfill that function in one form or the other. You always hear them complaining that they’re tied to a desk all day.”
At least I wasn’t an intern. They didn’t even get paid for the privilege!
Dilbert stared at me without speaking. Probably as astounded as I was by this atypical burst of emotion. “Anyway,” I continued. “What about the guy you work for? You’re always complaining that he fucks you around.”
Dilbert always maintained Toby Metcalfe had tickets on himself. As you could imagine, I’d been a bit confused as I’d never seen him walk around with little pieces of cardboard stuck to his suit. But Dilbert had explained that it was a figure of speech back where he came from. It meant his boss had an overinflated opinion of how great he was. As far as Dilbert was concerned, if Metcalfe did have tickets on himself, they’d read: Out-of-date stock. Must go.
Dilbert gave a snort of laughter. “Not literally. He wouldn’t dare. I’ll grant you that he’s an idiot, but so are most of the guys in middle management around here. Having to fuck someone should never be part of your job description.”
I wish I hadn’t told him now. But when I arrived at work on the Monday following that unforgettable Funtastic Friday, I’d told Dilbert about the role Gareth had “interviewed” me for. His subsequent outburst of fury had taken me by surprise. Then he started apologizing, saying it was his fault. He shouldn’t have left without me, but I’d taken so long in the bathroom, he’d figured I’d bailed because I was bored. It turned out that Rupert had told him I’d gone home.
Mind you, it took me ages to translate everything into English. There’d been lots of bloody this and bloody that, even though I’d stressed the fact that Gareth hadn’t actually drawn any blood. I’d even peeled down my trousers to show Dilbert. I’m not sure why he went bright pink. The red welts had faded by then. Shame.
In the end, I didn’t get the chance to tell him the whole story, as he went nuts when he discovered I shouldn’t have even been there because I was underage. His rant switched to the stupidity of a system that allowed people to vote and be killed while fighting for their country, but didn’t consider them old enough to drink alcohol.
I’d never seen that side of Dilbert before. Usually he was laid back and ultra cool. Almost as polite and law-abiding as a properly-brought-up Texan boy. It was lucky there was no one within earshot. I’d never heard anyone swear as much as he did. It was awesome.


Blog Tour – Tyler Knoll’s Just for Fun by A.B. GayleTitle: Tyler Knoll's Just For Fun Series (Books 1-4)Author: A.B. GayleGenre: Satire, humor, gay, gay romance, LGBTLength: NovellaPublisher:Wayward Ink Publishing
SynopsisTyler Knoll was born one wild, stormy night in April 2013.Of course, Tyler might tell you he was born twenty years earlier, but should we believe anything he says? That’s for you to decide.In Tyler’s first adventure—like many a gay man before him—he was SNARED by gay porn, wallowing in tales of bigger, stronger, harder….Then his fickle mind was seduced and SHREDDED by the prospect of BDSM and slavery.When a Big Misunderstanding SLASHED at Tyler’s sanity, almost costing him his life, he turned to another genre for his salvation. But even this encounter proved potentially hazardous—not from freezing temperatures, but at the hands of irate fans.Finally, tired and SCREWED by his all his trials and tribulations, he discovers—like many storybook heroes before him—that sometimes Mr. Right is closer than we think.
Buy linksEveryone who bought SNARED gets a 20% discount at buying the Just for Fun composite from the WIP website! Check the website for details. WIP: http://www.waywardinkpublishing.com/?p=1278Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/Tyler-Knolls-Just-Fun-Books-ebook/dp/B00ZW6552U/Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Tyler-Knolls-Just-Fun-Books-ebook/dp/B00ZW6552U/Amazon AU: http://www.amazon.com.au/Tyler-Knolls-Just-Fun-Books-ebook/dp/B00ZW6552U/Amazon DE: http://www.amazon.de/Tyler-Knolls-Just-Fun-Books-ebook/dp/B00ZW6552U/ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-tylerknoll039sjustforfuncompositebooks14-1839904-149.html B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/tyler-knolls-just-for-fun-ab-gayle/1122175760?ean=9781925222548
Book trailer

Rafflecopter GiveawayPrize: $20 WIP Gift Card and 1 ebook copy of Tyler Knoll’s Just for Funa Rafflecopter giveaway

About the authorUnlike many authors, A.B. Gayle hasn’t been writing stories all her life. Instead she’s been living life.Her travels have taken her from the fjords of Norway to the southern tip of New Zealand. In between, she’s worked in so many different towns she’s lost count. A.B. has shoveled shit in cow yards, mustered sheep, been polite to customers, traded insults with politicians. Sometimes she needs to be forgiven as she get confused as to who needs what where. Now living in Sydney, Australia, A.B. finally has time to allow her real life experiences to morph with her fertile imagination in order to create fiction that she hopes her readers will enjoy. A.B. values feedback on her writing, both negative and positive.
A.B. Gayle can be found at:Website: https://abgayle.comFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/abgayle.writerTwitter: https://twitter.com/abgaylewriterPinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/abgaylewriter/

Phoenix, a Love in Los Angeles Book

Whether in real life or on the page, a question people and characters face is: How to keep a relationship hot and interesting, after years of being together?
When Phoenix (Love in Los Angeles, Book 3) opens our protagonists and leading couple, Alex and Paul, have (spoiler alert!) been together for eight years and married for three. They’re deeply invested in their own careers and friendships, and reeling from the tragedy that has struck their social circle.
In this context, sex and physical intimacy is different than it was in the honeymoon phase of their relationship. Which left us with a problem: How could we, as writers, keep Paul and Alex’s sex life interesting enough to capture the attention of readers?
Our solution was largely to write the problem. Couples that have been together that long do face the challenge of how to keep life in bed interesting. And so we had Paul and Alex deal with that themselves: Not only do they have to negotiate interpersonal crises together, they also have to figure out how their evolving relationship and their own personal grief are reflected in sex. We -- and they -- hope their journey on the page is hot, interesting, and truthful.

Sometimes the end of everything…
Now happily married to writer and producer Paul Marion Keane, television star J. Alex Cook’s life has been a fairytale of success and romance for years. But when an unexpected tragedy throws his and Paul’s social circle into chaos, the alumni of hit TV show The Fourth Estate are forced to pick up the creative pieces left behind.
...is just the beginning
Confronted with his own mortality, Paul suggests he and Alex start a family. But figuring out what family means when your best friends’ polyamorous marriage may be melting down and you have Hollywood’s most malevolent fairy godmother to thank for your success is no easy proposition.
As Alex questions whether anyone in a profession full of make believe can truly have fame, fortune, kids, and the happily ever after of their dreams, he sets out to take control of his own life and discover that the best love stories never truly end.
Phoenix is Book 3 in the Love in Los Angeles series.

Bio:
Erin McRae is a queer writer and blogger based in Washington, D.C. She has a master’s degree in International Affairs from American University, and delights in applying her knowledge of international relations theory to her fiction and screen-based projects, because conflict drives narrative.
Racheline Maltese lives a big life from a small space. She flies planes, sails boats, and rides horses, but as a native New Yorker, has no idea how to drive a car. A long-time entertainment and media industry professional, she lives in Brooklyn with her partner and their two cats.
Together, they are co-authors of the gay romance series Love in Los Angeles, set in the film and television industry -- Starling (September 10, 2014), Doves (January 21, 2015), and Phoenix (June 10, 2015) -- from Torquere Press. Their gay romance novella series Love's Labours, set in the theater world -- Midsummer (May 2015), and Twelfth Night (Fall 2015), is from Dreamspinner Press. They also have a story in Best Gay Romance 2015 from Cleis Press and edited by Felice Picano. You can find them on the web at http://avian30.com/.

Social media links:
Joint BlogJointFacebook PageErin’sTwitterRacheline’sTwitterErin’sGoodreadsRacheline’sGoodreadsErin’sAmazon Author PageRacheline’sAmazon Author Page
eBook Buy Links:AmazonTorquere

Excerpt:
Alex's eyes flutter shut when Paul slides his hand into his back pockets and pulls him closer. They're not dancing so much as grinding together, but they're hardly alone in that regard--at least they still have their shirts on, and if Alex is willing, Paul has absolutely zero desire to stop.
Paul can't hear it, but he can feel the breath of a moan on his neck when Alex gets insistent about digging his fingers into Paul's hair while he mouths a the skin above his collar. Six months apart, with only two weeks in the middle, was a very long time, and the time they've had since has barely been enough to get used to sharing space with each other again, much less fall back into their relationship with all their knowledge of each other's bodies and hearts intact.
"This is possibly a stupid idea," Alex murmurs at some point.
Paul isn't sure how much time has elapsed since things crossed into slightly inappropriate but totally expected territory. "I don't think you care."

A Place to Call Their Own by Dean Pace-Frech

Thanks so much for having me today! My first novel, A Place to Call Their Own, has been released as a Second Edition and is now available from JMS Books. 

Kayla: It's a pleasure to have you with me today. As you know, I'm a bit of history geek and I always enjoy learning more.
I will apologize for the white box around your excerpt. I tried several different ways that normally clear it, but no go today. It appears to be part and parcel of the copy and paste. I guess I could have retyped it from scratch, but I was afraid I might change something if I did.
Many people ask me why I write historical. The quickest answer that comes to my mind is because I love to read them! I grew up reading the Little House books over the summers. As I grew older, I graduated right to Roots and, of course, John Jakes. I may be dating myself, but there was no YA category in the 1980s.
In 2008, after a visit to Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Mansfield, Missouri home, I read the entire Little House series during a period of unemployment. Still searching for a premise for my first novel, I ran across the quote at the beginning of the book. Frank and Gregory’s story unfold in my head and four years later, I finished their story on virtual paper.
I don’t know why I’m drawn to stories about the western expansion. Maybe it was the sheer guts it took to come out into the middle of nowhere and try to make a life. At the mercy of nature, hundreds of families came West to claim land and build their lives. Some made it and their families still farm the land today. Others didn’t.

I hope you enjoy, A Place to Call Their Own. It was my first novel and a labor of love. It combines all the things I love: history, adventure, and, of course, what the happily ever should be like.
I am happy to announce that the Second Edition of A Place to Call Their Own is available from JMS Books, LLC and other online retailers.
Blurb:Frank Greerson and Gregory Young have been discharged from the Army and are headed to their childhood homes. They both defied their parents in 1861 when they joined the Army. After battling southern rebels and preserving the Union of the United States of America, the two men set out to battle the Kansas Prairie and build a life together. Once they find their claim, they encounter common obstacles to life on the Kansas Prairie in 1866:  Native Americans, tornadoes, wild animals, and weather.
When a prairie fire destroys their crops and takes their neighbor’s lives, Frank and Gregory are instructed to find their young son’s aunt. Faced with leaving a destroyed claim, the railroad coming through their land, and dwindling funds, Frank and Gregory must decide whether to leave the place they have worked hard to make their own or fulfill their friends' dying wishes.
Sales Links:JMS Books
Amazon US Amazon UKBarnes and NobleAll Romance EbooksOmnilit.comGoodreads
Excerpt:You two together, or…” Mr. McAvoy asked with a puzzled look on his face.Mrs. McAvoy raised an eyebrow, also curious about the situation.Gregory gave Frank a nervous and mischievous look and answered, “Ah, yes, sir. We planned to each get a claim and build one house for now, help each other out.”The answer seemed to satisfy both Mr. and Mrs. McAvoy. “That sounds like a good idea. It’d be nice to have a few neighbors around to help with things once in a while. And what I wouldn’t give to have had just one other man to help me with some of the house building and stable. You stay around here, and you’ll need a stable. Wolves and coyotes will get your livestock if you don’t.”“How did you protect yourself before? This stuff doesn’t get built in a day.” Gregory asked.“It takes ’em a while to figure out you’re here. And of course, it’s worse in the winter than this time of year. They haven’t been quite so bad the last few weeks, have they?” he directed to his wife.“No, they calmed down. Hopefully they’ve been preying on the deer that are eating my potato plants.” answered Mrs. McAvoy. “You two want to stay for supper? I’ve got a big pot of rabbit stew on the stove.”“It’ll be good, I promise. She’s done great cooking whatever I can find for us,” Mr. McAvoy added.Gregory ignored the invitation. “How’s the hunting around here? You do good during the winter months?”“Yeah, in the fall it’s the best—the animals are all fat and sassy from the summer. You can tell the bucks from the does, and you don’t have to worry about orphaning a young deer like you do now. There are plenty of rabbits and prairie chickens right now. You can find squirrels…”“And the meadowlarks do fine, too, in a pinch,” piped in Mrs. McAvoy. “Now, what about supper?”“We appreciate the offer, ma’am,” Frank spoke up. “But we’re just trying to find us our claims and be done with traveling. We’ve been traveling nearly six weeks now. It has been that long since we had a decent home-cooked meal, but we need to keep moving on today.”They both remembered the last time they joined anyone for dinner. The McAvoys seemed harmless, but Frank and Gregory were both a bit shy about joining anyone else at this point.“Yeah, we’re getting close to where we want to settle,” Gregory added. “We appreciate the offer and all, but we just want to keep moving.”Mrs. McAvoy smiled, turned, and ran into the house with her load of laundry. Neither Frank nor Gregory knew if she was hurt because they declined the supper invitation or just needed to get back to her household chores.“We understand that. Took us nearly six months to get here from New York, where we come from. We stayed with some relatives along the way, but the missus did appreciate it when we finally stopped here.”“Well, we appreciate your hospitality and all your help. We should probably get going,” Frank said, glancing at Gregory.“If you happen to end up around here, don’t be strangers. Just let us know where you’re at,” Mr. McAvoy replied.“It’s a deal, sir,” Frank said and extended his hand.Mr. McAvoy walked over and took it. After they were done, McAvoy stepped away from the wagon.Gregory slapped the reins and yelled “giddyap,” and the horses sprang forward.A frantic Mrs. McAvoy yelled from inside the house, “Wait!”Frank grabbed Gregory’s arm to stop him. Gregory pulled back on the reins.Mrs. McAvoy came out of the cabin with a small basket covered with flour sack cloth.“This here isn’t much, but maybe it will allow you to rest once you stop for the night. I put two crocks of my stew in there and part of the bread I baked for our supper tonight. I don’t know why I did it, but something told me to make extra bread today.”“We’re mighty obliged, ma’am. This will help. Now we don’t have to worry about hunting anything for our dinner. We’ll just warm this by the fire and be ready to go,” Gregory spoke up.“Yes, ma’am. We are getting a bit worn out by this trip,” Frank said. He grinned at Gregory and said, “Hopefully, we’ll be finding our home soon.”Both men tipped their hats once more, and Gregory got the horses going again.Dove and Daisy lumbered along for the rest of the afternoon and into the early evening. Before they realized it, the wagon climbed a gentle, gradual grade. The early evening sun blinded them as they reached the crest of the ridge. At the top, Frank looked over his shoulder where the wagon had just been. There he saw the trail left by the wagon and horses in the prairie grass. To the west, a line of trees indicated a creek, river, or some sort of waterway. The sun drenched the entire landscape in its golden hue. He looked at Gregory, and they both knew this was their new home. They had arrived on the homestead.
“Welcome home, Frankie!” Gregory yelled at the top of his lungs.
Giveaway:In celebration of the release of A Place to Call Their Own, I am giving away a copy of my novel, Disappear With Me.
a Rafflecopter giveaway




About Dean Pace-FrechWith inspiration from historical tourism sites, the love of reading, and a desire to write a novel, Dean started crafting his debut novel, A Place to Call Their Own, in 2008. After four years of writing and polishing the manuscript, it was accepted and originally published in 2013. His second novel, Disappear With Me, set in Edwardian England was published later that same year. Both novels were re-released in May 2015.

Dean lives in Kansas City, Missouri with his husband, Thomas (legally as of February 14, 2015), and their two cats. They are involved in their church and enjoy watching movies, outdoor activities in the warm weather and spending time together with friends and family. In addition to writing, Dean's hobbies include reading and patio gardening.

Dean is currently working on a standalone title, Need Your Love, set in 1966, and The Higher Law, continuation of the story of Frank and Gregory's family set in the 1930s.
Connect with Dean Pace-FrechEmail deanfrech@aol.comBlog:  Dean's Web SiteFacebook:  Dean Pace-Frech, Authorpage or send a friend request Dean Pace-Frech.Twitter: @deanpacefrechGoogle+: +deanpacefrechGoodreads: Dean Pace-FrechPinterest:  Dean Pace-Frech

My Latest Purchases

 I am now the proud owner of my very first book covers. Breathless Press was kind enough to offer to sell them to me once their logos had been removed.

It feels strange to go to Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or ARe and only see one or two covers instead of the half dozen that used to grace my author's page on those site.

Breathless Press was not only my very first publisher, but the owner Justyn Perry encouraged me to write and offered me a place with his publishing company.

I feel as if a large chunk of my "authorly" presence has been amputated. I'm going to miss Breathless Press tremendously.


Mina Carter designed both book-covers for me and she did such a wonderful job with them. I've always loved these covers.

Soon, I hope to have From the Ashes available once more.

Alexios' Fate may take a bit longer as I'm looking to rework the first story in the Apollo's Men series before re-releasing it.

Wrecked Blog Tour and Giveaway

Thank you, Kayla, for kicking off my WRECKED Blog Tour for my upcoming historical romance.

It's my pleasure! You know I love your stories and a historical is even better.

On May 15th Dreamspinner Press will be releasing WRECKED, my fourth book with them—my seventeenth overall not including free reads.
I can hardly believe that this book is finally coming out. Editing a historical novel of this size took a while, but not nearly as long as it took to write it! 96K is the finished length. Plenty to sink your teeth into if you’re looking for a nice long, romantic read, if I do say so myself LOL
WRECKED had its birth in 2009 when my husband and I went on vacation to Key West, Florida. One afternoon we decided to tour the Key West Shipwreck Museum. I thought we would see some relics from under the sea, but I never expected to be inspired to write this book…..let alone find the name for my hero Rief in a video of a salvaging operation in the 80s, LOL.  Did you know that in the 1850s Key West was the wealthiest city per capita in America? That money was brought in by salvaging ships wrecked on the Florida Reef, a dangerous occupation which was sanctioned by the US federal courts. These hearty sailors had a reputation as pirates in some circles, and rumors abounded that they tricked mariners into hiring them, or even had a hand in wrecking the ships to begin with.
Talk about a perfect setting for a romance novel!
Now Key West is one of my favorite cities and taking the time to learn the history of this unique place was a lot of fun. I endeavored to layer all of these details, places, people of that Pre-Civil War era and I hope readers really get the feeling that they are right there in Key West with Mathew and Rief. Take a look at the blurb:
Blurb from WRECKED: Off the Key West coast, Rief Lawson works as a wrecker, salvaging ships and their cargo. Exiled to the outskirts of society because of his mysterious gift of sight, Rief’s only respite from his loneliness is painting an unknown blond man. When a merchant ship wrecks during a violent storm, Rief rescues a drowning victim and comes face-to-face with his destiny.
It is the man from his art!

Heir to an English barony, Mathew Weston entered the merchant trade with his greedy father and soon-to-be father-in-law. Dominated by his father and smothered by the people around him—including his sweet but tiresome fianceé—Mathew is terrified to follow his true desires. Marriage and obedience seem safer than a life of secrecy and possible prison.

After the daring rescue, a fire ignites between the two men. Powerless to resist his desire, Mathew learns what it means to be a man in Rief’s arms. With this newfound confidence, Mathew teaches Rief through gentle touch that he deserves the affection he’s long been denied. Yet their affair is doomed from the start. Two desperate men, wrecked in heart and mind, must find a way to salvage the chance at love fate has given them.
During my WRECKED Blog Tour, I will be sharing exclusive excerpts at all of my stops. Today I am going to start with one of my favorite scenes, when Mathew and Rief meet face to face for the first time. Enjoy!
Excerpt from WRECKED:“Every time I look around, I see incompetence. Torino warned us not to trust the wreckers. Lawson even hired another diver without my permission,” Father spat, fussing with the cuffs of his coat. “Driving the cost up, no doubt. I will not allow these scoundrels to lessen our insurance claim. We do not need five divers.”
Though Mathew found it odd Father was concerned with a yet to be made claim rather than salvaging their cargo, he was more interested in the wrecking operation. “Why have we hired divers?”
“Yes, the way she sits, the lower holds are still flooded and the pump isn’t keeping up, so men swim down to get the cargo by free diving,” Mr. Kirkwood explained.
“Sounds heroic.”
Father scoffed and raked him with a sneer. “What would you know of heroics, Mathew? When you’re needed to see to the safety of two ladies, you fall overboard like a fop, then take ill. Come, Kirkwood. I want to find Lawson and give him a piece of my mind.” He paused to give Mathew an arch of brows. “I trust you will be returning to port with the other women?”
He spoke so loudly a few crewmen of the Mirabella chuckled as they passed. Mathew felt his face burn and could not think of a suitable reply.
What would he say anyway?
A terrible marksman and an even worse equestrian, Mathew often chose the company of women over his own sex. As a child it had been the opposite, he couldn’t get enough of being around the other boys, especially the older, athletic ones. But things changed when his body had begun to mature. He shied away from them, preferring female companions though he had no attraction to women outside of a general appreciation of their aesthetics and their more accepting natures. At one time, he had attributed this propensity to never having a mother and thus he craved female attention. But now he understood that certain men made him nervous because he found them attractive, sensual—just the way a woman should view men.
Snickering to himself, Father walked off.
Mr. Kirkwood hesitated to follow. Glancing at the sailors still chuckling, he offered an apologetic pat to Mathew’s back. “Excuse me, Mr. Weston. I’ll be back in a moment.” After a wan smile, he followed Father.
The respect and subsequent pitying gesture caused Mathew’s humiliation to increase, and along with it, his temper. Angry at himself, he gripped the railing tight once they left, the pain of his crutch digging into his armpit and making him even angrier.
Damnation!
The last three years at Cambridge, where his friends and peers treated him as an equal, Mathew believed he’d come into his own. Successful in his studies and well-liked, his gait had improved, walking as tall as his short stature allowed. He’d even found an athletic activity he excelled at for the first time in his life, the rowing team, and he’d passed his Tripos with first-class honors. He’d actually felt like an adult.
Like a man.
Yet the second he returned to London, one word from Father had reduced Mathew to the same pathetic child he’d always been, yearning for sympathy and love, but finding only scorn and resentment instead.
He gritted his teeth in frustration.
“Going back with the other women,” he muttered to himself in a haughty baritone version of Father. “Other women, indeed!”
Just because he had feminine fantasies, did not mean he was a woman!
“Annoying isn’t it?” a husky voice said.
Startled, Mathew’s head jerked back, and he almost fell over in shock when he looked up into eyes he had not imagined.
Oh dear God….
Bare-chested, and looking every bit as wild as the storm that had wrecked their ship, stood the man who had rescued him.
Rief.
Mathew’s heart skipped, and his body flushed.
Rief was even more handsome than he recalled!
Damp, sandy-brown hair brushed Rief’s neck and brow, the whisper of sunlight peeking out of the heavy clouds revealing hints of copper and gold where it had dried. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot and tired, but the color of them Mathew had been unable to recall turned out to be a bit of everything that was the tropics. Gold of the sand at sunset. Blue of the deepest parts of the sea. Green of the shallows catching the sunlight. Whatever way he moved, they picked up the colors reflecting around him. This was a man born of the sea, a child of this restless land.
Mathew had to look like a fool talking aloud to himself!
How could he possibly be so absurd?
“Pardon?” he muttered, tugging on the edge of his shirtsleeve to cover his embarrassment and overly aware of how the sun glistened on the hairs dusting the man’s tanned muscular body—and the way the air felt much hotter than before.
“Annoying when they talk to you like you’re a child. My brother does it to me all the time,” Rief said. His soft brown curls luffed in the wind.
“Y-yes, I suppose so.” Transfixed by how much wider and taller than him Rief was, he felt like a child looking up at a giant. And why wasn’t the man wearing a shirt? Positively distracting, that was what it was!
“Makes you want to plant a fist right in their throat,” he said, with a sideways smirk that Mathew wasn’t sure was humor or serious. “Glad to see you’re up and well. How’s your leg?”
“I-it’s fine, thank you,” he managed.
When Rief grinned, a solitary dimple on his left cheek undid Mathew completely.
Is this what a swoon feels like? Get a hold of yourself! Only women swoon!
Thank you for hosting my today, Kayla. Don’t forget to enter to win one of the two copies of WRECKED
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Deanna Wadsworth might be a bestselling erotica author, but she leads a pretty vanilla life in Ohio with her wonderful husband and a couple adorable cocker spaniels. She has been spinning tales and penning stories since childhood, and her first erotic novella was published in 2010. When she isn’t writing books or brainstorming with friends, you can find her making people gorgeous in a beauty salon. She loves music and dancing, and can often be seen hanging out on the sandbar in the muddy Maumee River or chilling with her hubby and a cocktail in their basement bar. In between all that fun, Deanna cherishes the quiet times when she can let her wildly active imagination have the full run of her mind. Her fascination with people and the interworkings of their relationships have always inspired her to write romance with spice and love without boundaries.
Website │Facebook │ Twitter │Pinterest │goodreads
You can also find her young adult alter ego, K.D. Worth Facebook│Twitter
Buy Deanna’s books at Dreamspinner Press, Decadent Publishing or at any reputable eBook seller

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