M.A. Church's Blog, page 123

ARe Best Seller - Bad Boys Club box set

Whoot! My bad boys made it on the Best Seller list at ARe! Okay, it just barely squeaked on there, but hey, I'll take it lol. And since this is basically a rerelease, I'm thrilled. So big hugs to all that bought it! *tosses glitter*

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-badboysclubboxset-1845372-147.html

Pride Promotions presents Obsidian Sun by Jon Keys and a giveaway!

Author Name: Jon Keys Book Name: Obsidian Sun Release Date: July 10, 2015
Blurb: Differences must be put aside when vengeance becomes all-consuming.

Anan, a spellweaver of the Talac people, returns from a hunting trip to find his village decimated, his mate dead, and everyone else captured by Varas slavers. The sole survivor is Terja, a young man without the velvet that covers most Talac, marking him as a spellspinner. Since Talac magic requires both a weaver and a spinner, Anan and Terja must move beyond their ingrained mistrust. All that remains is revenge and a desperate plan to rescue their tribesmen before they are sold to Varas pleasure houses. A goal Anan and Terja are willing to die for.

With the blessing of the Talac gods, they discover new and surprising ways to complement each other’s power. But as they race through terrain full of enemies and dangerous creatures to reach their people before they pass into Varas lands, they must take drastic steps to face the overwhelming odds against them. Understanding their connection might be their only hope.Pages or Words: 200 pages

Categories: Alternate universe, Fantasy
Excerpt:ANAN EASED into bow range. He’d been hunting for a fingercount of days and stalking this daggerhorn since the early gray of predawn. He waited until the animal turned away before rising to a crouch. The lethally armed grazer would feed him and his mate for days. He brought his bow up slowly and drew the bowstring to his cheek.His body convulsed with pain that felt as if he’d been stabbed with a red-hot iron blade, and his arrow shot several lengths above his quarry, which disappeared into the deep grass.In the next instant, Anan knew. His mating-bond with Silbre had snapped. Agony filled him, sending him to his knees as the bow slipped from his numb hands. Gasping for air, he dropped forward onto his hands as waves of loss and pain overwhelmed him.I have to find Silbre. What happened? Our mating-bond can’t be broken.Unwilling to believe the horrible truth, Anan had to find his mate.He staggered to his feet, looping the bow over his shoulder as he took the first stumbling steps toward home. The surety of his pace came back to him, and he gained speed until he was sprinting toward the clan’s encampment. Time became irrelevant. He walked when his legs refused to run and ate when his body demanded it.Dusk came on him stealthily, but he refused to stop. Silbre can’t be gone. We’ve been together since our adult velvet. Anan’s chest tightened at the thought of losing his mate. His mind swirled with fear, horror, and anger. If their teachers hadn’t sent him on yet another hunting trip, maybe he could have saved Silbre. No, he refused to believe he’d lost Silbre. There must be another explanation. He pushed down the rush of emotions and focused on the run as night deepened. With the rise of the moons, he picked up speed, desperate to reach home.Anan neared the last of his endurance when he saw the familiar featherleaf trees that lined the river bend where the Kuri clan spent its summers. He topped the river embankment and dropped to his knees at the sight before him. Complete devastation. The warm morning breeze carried the scent of death. The raucous voices of carrion birds as they fought over bits of his clan reinforced his horror.He struggled down the steep embankment to splash through the shallow river that circled most of what had been the Kuri’s summer encampment. As he waded to shore, he found the eyeless face of a childhood friend. Anan stumbled to one side and emptied his stomach. He retched again and again as he surpassed the limit of his emotional endurance until each twist of his stomach yielded nothing.Silbre! Where’s Silbre? Anan renewed his headlong flight to find his twining mate.He ran through the devastation, sending flocks of birds into the air. With each heartbeat his desperation grew as he ran to their tent. He has to be alive. I can’t survive without him. He rounded a pile of debris and found the familiar woven pattern of their summer lodge. His world died. Entangled in the remains, Silbre’s body bristled with a fingercount of crossbow quarrels. Varas slavers. Those are their bolts. The iron heads and spiral fletching left no doubt. But they had never come this far into Talac territory.Anan dropped to his knees and pulled Silbre tight against him. Anan’s breath rasped between clenched teeth, his chest tight with grief as he rocked with his mate in his arms. A freshet of tears rolled over the plush hair covering his face. The dull drone from hordes of green burrowing flies and the cries of carrion birds surrounded him. But grief paralyzed Anan.His sorrow merged with anger, and he screamed toward the implacable sky. “Why have you let this happen? Why did you cut his threads so short?”Anan dropped his chin against his chest and sobbed. He rocked his mate slowly, tracing the tips of his fingers along the swirls of a spellweaver created in the short tan and brown hair covering Silbre’s face while he fought to ignore the fatal wounds. Anan’s throat tightened as more tears rolled down his cheeks. He lowered Silbre gently, as if he were sleeping.The aftermath of the attack must be dealt with. He had no choice. He steeled himself to the carnage around him and struggled to understand. How did the Varas unravel the protective web that surrounded the village? Especially those of the Kuri clan, who have some of the most skilled spellweavers of the Talac people. Even if they had broken the spell, a warning would have been felt, and people would have boiled out like stingers from their nest. Something in the web of Anan’s reality shifted as he wondered how the Varas were able to decimate a Talac village.Anan called on his spell vision and tried to trace any threads, but they were gone. If there were survivors, they were no longer connected to the village weaving. He began moving in a haze of disbelief.All the people he’d grown up with were gone. Saritua who taught him his first weavings, Trebea who knew the perfect day to harvest wood for bows that wouldn’t wrack in the fall rains—gone. He’d never hear Poza talking with her imaginary friends as she toddled from one rug to another pretending at grownup, or her wonder when the spring gliders migrated across the savanna.He’d seen the carrion birds pecking the flesh from their lifeless bodies. The horrors no longer registered, as his surroundings became part of an unending cascade of atrocities. At some point he would break and mourn. But not now; he was too numb, too overwhelmed. The bits of his being that weren’t focused on what he had to accomplish in this moment hid in the corner of his mind, gibbering in near madness. Silbre couldn’t come to the rescue this time. The task fell on his shoulders. There was no one else.Screaming birds took off and revealed the burned arms of a spellspinner. With this final revelation, the last warp threads of Anan’s reality snapped. All the Kuri spinners would be dead. When spellspinners in battle ripped the matama from the attackers, they condemned themselves to death. Akhir gave their attackers a painful end, but the backlash left the spellspinners burned and dead. He moved closer and saw the velvetless skin that marked them from birth as spellspinners. But the curse, or gift, of akhir created the final separation between the Talac spinners and weavers.Anan’s questionable skill at spellweaving didn’t matter any longer. Without a spinner, there was no one to take the deathspinner eggs and harvest silk for the matama threads he needed for his weavings. Only the spinners knew how to combine matama with silk harvested from the most feared animals of the savanna. Without spun threads, Anan’s years of training didn’t matter.Lucid thought came to an end with yet another gruesome discovery. His mind rebelled, and the final threads of his former life broke one by one. He locked away his emotions to sort through them when he could take the luxury.Anan recognized the end of his second day when the sun’s deep red orb rested on the treetops, covering his world in the color of fresh blood. Darkness would come soon and with it the possibility of larger predators. With the clan spell webbing gone, nothing would keep them out.He knew his duty. He must gather the dead and perform the most sacred of weavings. He would create the final unraveling ceremony for most of the village.Anan struggled to his feet and began his task. Taking Silbre first, he carried his mate’s body to the center of the camp. He ran the back of his fingers over his twining’s face, the cold ache of loss constricting around his chest until his breath came in gasps and tears rolled down his cheeks again.Hesitant at first, Anan carried the remains of each member of his clan and laid them side by side. Lastly he moved to the spellspinners’ tents. He understood their importance in the clan, but their aloof manner and vanity over their birthmark velvetless skin had been reason enough for him to avoid them in the past. But his duty was to the village, and his personal disdain had no place. Following the sense of duty hammered into him by his parents, he afforded the spellspinners the same reverence as the other lost.As he moved toward the final dwelling, and its content, he couldn’t help but note the remains of Varas attackers littering the encampment. Some resembled colorless grubs, the sign of a spellspinner calling akhir. The pale Varas bodies also meant there would be a burned spellspinner close by. Akhir extracted a horrible toll. Only in the legends of First Spinner and First Weaver did anyone survive calling akhir.He grabbed the wrists of a spinner and found the touch of bare skin against his palms… odd. Anan had never touched a spinner before. There had never been a reason to do so. They didn’t encourage contact. After steeling himself, he squatted to gather the last of the bodies, when he heard a moan.Anan spun, knife in hand. When he realized the sound didn’t come from attacking Varas, he sheathed his knife and waited, listening for signs of life. A few heartbeats later another barely audible sound leaked from the wreckage. Anan dug through a pile of tent cloth and found a storage cache. Another groan drifted from inside the partially exposed opening, followed by rustling as if a mouse ran across a stretched kuri-skin drum.Anan eased himself forward, peering into the opening. At first he could see nothing but darkness, but then two brilliant blue eyes peered up at him.He waited, recognizing the color of a spellspinner’s eyes. How did this spinner survive? Why did he hide? Compassion returned to Anan. Regardless of how this spinner survived, he is also Talac.“You hurt?” Even to Anan’s own ears, his words sounded brittle and desolate of emotion. He waited for a response, but when none came, he reached inside.“Here. Let me help.”Smooth skin slid under Anan’s palms, the first time he’d touched a living spinner. Surprise raced through his system when he found the contact… pleasant. As he helped the slender figure, he recognized this spinner, but not for a reason he might have hoped. The spinner standing before him was the most reclusive. He always avoided contact with any of the Talac who were normal. Who were velveted.He studied Anan with the suspicion of a young night-hunter, complete with the twitch of his nose. He took the offered hand and scrambled up the side of the cache.The tension between them grew as their gazes locked. This isn’t about my feelings for the spinners. I must perform the unraveling. He waited a moment, took in a breath, and calmed himself.“Can you walk?”The spinner wiped a grimy arm over his forehead, leaving streaks of filth as he tucked his dark hair behind his ears. An instant later he nodded silently.“I’m Anan.”This time the young man trembled. “Terja. I am a spinner.”Anan’s brow lifted. “Yes. I see you.” He considered asking the questions swirling through his mind, but waited.Terja shuddered again and turned his head slowly. He seemed lost, but Anan granted him time to adjust and waited until the spinner’s focus returned. “Where is everyone?”“Dead. Or taken as Varas slaves. I found only a few bodies from Kuri our age.”Terja’s eye’s widened. “Slavers? The screams. I heard… it was….” He stared at Anan.Anan wondered if this spinner still functioned or if the trauma had overwhelmed Terja. Regardless, he continued. “Varas slavers attacked the village. Everyone is either dead or captured. I don’t know why the web didn’t sound an alert. The herds are scattered. All the Talac clans are in jeopardy.”“Our kuri and herdweavers? Gone?” Terja’s voice broke at the news.Anan stared at him. The herds were the least of his concerns. The herdweavers had either died fighting or were captured. But he knew they hadn’t deserted the kuri. They took their role as guardians seriously. But he needed to finish his task, and Terja acted too overwhelmed to help.Though he moved toward the nearest body, Anan couldn’t stop staring at Terja. The irrelevant question wiped out the last of his restraint. “Why were you hiding? The Varas attacked. Why’d you do nothing?”Tears flooded from Terja’s eyes. With his breath coming in gasps, he tried to explain. “I tried. Had my staff. People dying. Father put me—” Terja broke into inconsolable sobbing. Anan knew he would get no more information from the spinner.“At nightfall we’re doing an unraveling for the dead. You’re helping.”Terja looked shaken, as if it had never occurred to him a spellweaver would address him in that manner. He began to speak, but when Anan glared at him, Terja pressed his lips tightly together.Anan motioned to the body of one of the older spinners, and Terja moved to stand at its feet. He clamped his eyes shut as he groped for the ankles, shuddering when the tips of his fingers made contact, and hesitated. Anan allowed him what time he could, but before he had to jar him into motion, Terja clenched his teeth and grabbed the dead man’s ankles.He opened his eyes and glared at Anan, but Anan was far past being affected by anything so minor as the anger of a young spellspinner. With Terja’s help, the last bodies were gathered. Exhausted mentally and physically, he still refused to allow Terja to perform any of the ceremony.“We need to make a final check. It’s close to nightfall. I don’t want to leave—” Anan stopped and swallowed hard to regain his control. “I want to be certain we’ve taken care of everyone. We can go opposite directions and meet back here. Hopefully, there’s nothing to find.”Anan waited for Terja’s nod, then started through the encampment. Hesitant at first, he covered the area with speed and resolve. I don’t know how many more victims I can deal with before my mind snaps like a weak warp thread. As he worked through the smoldering remains, he began to think they’d recovered all the bodies.He returned to the center of the encampment and found Terja hadn’t arrived. Anan moved to locate the spinner. Close to the spinner’s lodges, Anan found him, crumpled into the dust, holding the body of a small child.His heart cracked when Terja’s eyes met his, tears running down his red cheeks. He held the broken body like a precious jewel, cradling the kit who was long past the issues of this world. The spinner ran his fingers over the deep brown velvet covering the kit’s face as if he were sleeping. He reached down to touch Terja’s shoulder.“He’s gone, Terja. Add him to the ceremony so his strands can rejoin the others in the Great Weaving.”Past reason now, Terja’s sobs echoed across the scene of desolation. The darkness flowed over the pair, its edges seeming to ripple in response to Terja’s grief. “You don’t understand!” he yelled, his face contorted with anger. “Akra and I were friends. His father died when a longtooth pack attacked him. We broke fast together each morning. Why would they kill a kit?”Anan hardened. “You know why. Akra was nothing more than an animal to them. They don’t follow the teachings of First Twining, and we are nothing more than mating slaves to feed their addiction.”“Akra was a sweet kit. Just a toddler.”Anan squeezed his shoulder. “Come. It’s time.”He forced Terja into motion. They came to the central area, and Terja turned to Anan. “Clean him. Please. I know it will take some of the spinnings you have, but please. I cannot stand to think he’s going to the Great Weaving like this. He worried so much about how he looked.”“Terja….”“Please. I’ll replace the spinning. The spell panels on your kilt are close to full. You have enough matama to do this.” Terja turned ashen. “Please. This will be the last thing I ask of you.”Anan sighed and ran his hand over the complex matama patterns stored on his kilt. Although his state of exhaustion diminished his focus to the point where he had to touch the threads. He deftly created the weaving in the air from the matama stored in his kilt panels. Soon he had the simple weave completed. Once he did, Anan struggled through the ritual steps drummed into him to release the spell and clean the lifeless body. The small weaving dissipated, and Anan let his vision slip away.The kit before them now could have been sleeping. Anan normally would have refused to use a spellweaving on someone beyond its reach, but he admitted, if only to himself, this final visage of the kit was much preferable to the blood- and gore-splattered toddler that had lain before him a short time earlier. He stared at the kit, then at Terja.“It’s time to do the unraveling.”
Sales Links: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=6624

About the author:Jon Keys’s earliest memories revolve around books. Either read to him or making up stories based on the illustrations, these were places his active mind occupied. As he got older the selection expanded beyond Mother Goose and Dr. Suess to the world of westerns, science fiction and fantasy. His world filled with dragon riders, mind speaking horses and comic book heroes in hot uniforms.A voracious reader for half a century, Jon recently began creating his own creations of fiction. The first writing was his attempt at showing rural characters in a more sympathetic light. Now he has moved into some of the writing he lost himself in for so many years…fantasy. Jon has worked as a ranch hand, teacher, computer tech, roughneck, designer, retail clerk, welder, artist, and, yes, pool boy; with interests ranging from kayaking and hunting to drawing and cooking, he uses this range of life experiences to create written works that draw the reader in and wrap them in a good story.  Where to find the author:Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jon.keys.773 Twitter:  @Jon4KeysWebsite: http://jonkeys.com/ Goodreads Link: Publisher: Dreamspinner PressCover Artist: Paul Richmond
Tour Dates & Stops: July 10, 2015 Parker Williams , BFD Book Blog, Full Moon Dreaming, Havan Fellows, Jessie G. Books, Kimi-Chan, Decadent Delights,

Nighttime Wishes cover

Aw yeah, look at it! *grin* Isn't that the coolest thing ever? I love this. The CA, Erin Dameron-Hill, is an award-winning cover artist. She knocked it out of the park, huh?

So, as far as I know, the release date is still Sept. 1st from ARe. Today, ARe also did a cover reveal on their blog too.

In Enemy Hands Ch 9.1

Chapter 9.1

Gods, how had that come to pass?
The question boggled his mind, so he ignored it. Instead he turned his thoughts to the meal and the wine Varo suggested they bring. They only thing he’d ever had to bring to dinner with his brother was himself. Apparently that had changed. Since he didn’t know what his brother planned to serve, he commed and asked.
“ You’re bringing a wine to go with the final meal? You? The only thing you’ve ever brought to a meal was your appetite.”
“Bite me.” Adlar rolled his eyes. So he had a point.
“I suspect this is Varo’s doing. Your prince might just class you up yet.”
“Again, bite me. I wasn’t raised by batar’s, and you’re a riot, ha-ha. Now tell me what to bring.”
Omori snickered. “Good thing I was raised with you or I’d wonder. So, let’s see. What wine? A nice, dry green would go well with the meal. I suppose you plan to scourer the royal wine cellar for it?”
“Well, I am a royal.”
“Why don’t I have the wine delivered to my rooms? It’d save time, and frankly, I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry.” He grinned at the small laugh he heard from Omori. “Send for the wine. We’ll be there shortly.”
Just as Adlar disconnected, Varo joined him dressed and ready to go. The clothes were casual, nothing special, but the pants hugged Varo’s muscular ass and the shirt clung to his nicely shaped shoulders.
“Ready?” Varo asked.
Adlar stared at Varo. He wished Varo had left his hair unbraided. He liked it loose.
“Adlar?”
And maybe he should make Varo go change those pants. They really showed off his ass. It would be a shame if he had to knife someone on the way to his brother’s rooms for staring at what was his.
“Adlar!” Varo waved his hand in front of Adlar’s face. “Helloooo?”
Adlar flushed, and then a grin flashed across his face. “Sorry, I was… thinking.”
Varo hiked an eyebrow. “Thinking, huh? About what?”
“Nothing.” Adlar cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed at being caught gawking. “Omori is ready to eat, so let’s go.”
 “Absolutely.”
As Adlar strode pass, Varo whispered, “I think you’re sexy too.”
Busted. He followed Varo from the room, admiring that fine ass in front of him. Discretely he rearranged his cock and hoped the final meal went quickly.
* * * *
They arrived and settled around the table to eat. Of course Omori pointed out the wine that set on the table, and of course he had to tell how it had arrived grinning the whole time. Adlar made a point of toying with his dinner knife, which made Omori smirk.
Varo poked at Adlar throughout the meal about the wine too. The food was good, the wine was perfect, and the company was entertaining. Adlar thought Varo had a nice time. He’d certainly acted like it.
He laughed, joked, and teased both himself and Omori. It was a side of Varo he hadn’t had much opportunity to see. But even with the lighthearted atmosphere, he noticed something dark that passed over Varo at times.
As they ate, he watched Varo. He was charismatic, knowledgeable, and perfectly comfortable dealing with other royalty. His thoughts turned to the few things Varo had let slip about his family and what he knew about the Yesri king. The male was no better than a rabid dog in his opinion. He couldn’t imagine what Varo had been subjected to growing up.
He and Omori competed often as children and later as adults. They thrived on it, But at the same time, he’d gut anyone who tried to hurt Omori. His brother was a good man, that’s why he was a good king. And frack if he wanted that job. Oh no, he’d knife someone before the day was done.
Even though they closed themselves off from other races, Omori still dealt with some off-world politics. He had the patience Adlar didn’t have. That didn’t mean Omori didn’t know how to defend himself. He did. Adlar had taught his brother everything he knew. Omori might be the only one who knew Adlar’s weak points.
He was afraid Varo was now a weakness of his too.
“Adlar? Helkan to Adlar.”
Adlar snapped back to the present. Both Varo and Omori stared at him.
“If I’d been an assassin, you’d been dead.” Adlar heard the humor in Omori’s voice
“Right.” Adlar smirked at Omori. “You as an assassin. You have two left feet. The one thing you are not is stealthy.”
“But I am good with a knife,” Omori said.
Varo just shook his head. “Must run in the family.”
After the meal they spent some time with Omori, and then later they returned to Adlar’s room where Adlar fucked Varo through the mattress. Hours later he left Varo sleeping soundly sprawled on his bed.
One of the two Helkan moonbeams flowed through the window and fell on Varo. Had he ever seen anything as beautiful? As otherwordly? Adlar’s mind wouldn’t shut down so he could sleep, thus the reason he was up staring at moonbeams and Varo.
He sipped some of the green wine Omori had sent home with him as the night replayed in his mind. The scene in Omori’s rooms had been almost… homey. Varo fit in so well. So well, in fact, he couldn’t imagine the same scene without Varo.
He belonged there. He belonged with Adlar. His heart pounded as it became clear that he couldn’t see his life without Varo… as his mate. He’d had those feeling before, but now he knew there was no avoiding it. Horrified, he stared in his wine. What he felt went past want.
Somewhere along the way, he’d fallen in love with Varo.
How the frack had that happened? He was attracted, yes. He’d been almost from the start. And while he wasn’t looking, that feeling had grown. He liked Varo. He found the other male funny and interesting. Varo had a sharp mind even if he was a bit spoilt.
But how Varo reacted when pushed in the water not only impressed him, it made him respect Varo as a person. He’d respected Varo as a starship captain, but this was different. It opened his eyes to the who the male was growing into being. Goddess help him. While he wasn’t looking Varo wormed his way inside his heart.
He needed…. He needed to talk to someone. He commed Omori, hoping he wouldn’t wake him. It was early enough he might be up and starting his day.
Omori’s face swam on the screen. “Well, hello.”
“Greetings.” Adlar sipped his wine and glared at the screen, not saying anything.
Omori hiked one eyebrow. “Um, okay. Did you comm me at the ass crack of dawn just to glare at me? Please tell me this isn’t going to become a habit. Not the way I’d like to start my morning, you know.”
Adlar ran his hands through his hair. “No, but not that you mentioned it…”
“Um, now that I mentioned… what?”
“Frack.”
“Well, that certainly tells me a lot.” Omori snorted. “So precise, so articulate.”
“Can you even spell articulate?” Adlar sniped, swirling his wine in his glass.
“Good goddess, what are you? Ten? What’s with the attitude?” Omori studied the screen. A small smile crept across his face, and he chuckled. “Ahhhh. I do believe I see what the problem is now. I did wondered last night with you all distracted and stuff. Oh, how the mighty fallen.”
“Arrgh!” Adlar pulled on his long hair. “Why did I comm you again?”
“You’re a glutton for punishment?”
“Not hardly.”
“Well then, it must be because you, brother dear, just figured out that male sleeping in your bed means more to you than you were prepared for. He’s not just a slave. He’s not just a piece of ass, either. You’ve come to respect him, haven’t you?”
“Frack.”
“You see him as an equal now, yes? Not just a Yesri who you can break, but as a male of worth.”
“Just frack!”
“You’ve fallen in love with him, haven’t you?”
“Aw, goddess, Omori. I can’t do this. He’s a slave, and a Yesri. And he’s a Yesri royal. Our people would never accept him. Plus I put a slave collar on him. A proud man like that? He’d never forgive me. They hate us anyhow. He can’t care for me, much less love me.”
“How do you know?”
That shut Adlar up. He stared at Omori who stared back at him, smirking. Varo had submitted to him in the bedroom, but that didn’t mean anything. He’d hadn’t raped Varo, but how consensual was his consent? How could they build a relationship off the start they had?
Relationship? He shook his head. He was getting ahead of himself. First he needed to know how much Varo hated him. “I made him a slave. A slave .”
“Adlar? I am king. I can change his status, you know. I can pardon him for his acts of terrorism too, but in return I’d need him to swear fealty to me. He would be rejecting his heritage and his people. That’s not an easy thing to ask of someone.”
“You don’t know he’d…. What makes you think he’d do that?”
Omori crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s the point, isn’t it? Give him the ability to make a choice. Since he stepped foot on our planet, he’s had very little chance to exercise free will. If he loves you, he’ll take the time to think about what he wants.”
“If he loves me.”
“Well now, that’s the question you need answered, isn’t it. Ask him, Adlar. Don’t assume, don’t guess, and don’t ignore this.”
Adlar sighed. “And if says he can’t love me?”
“At least you’d know.”
“It would change everything.” Adlar finished his wine.
“It’s changing anyway.” Omori glanced over his shoulder as someone off screen spoke. “Just a moment. I’m in the middle of something.”
“True.” Adlar knew their time was up. “Thank you. Sounds like you need to get a start on your day, so I’ll sign off.”
“Are you sure?” Omori turned back to the screen and waved his hand behind him. “This can wait.”
“No, no, I’ve heard what I needed to hear, so go do your kingly thing.”
“Kingly? I swear, Adlar. Fine, I’ll go be kingly, but you comm me again if you need to talk. I always have time for you.”
“Thanks, Omori. Same goes for you.”
Omori snorted. “I have no love life to be concerned over. I’ll talk to you later.”
Adlar shut the comm down and stared at the blank screen. With Omori’s support, he could change Varo’s status. He could mate Varo. Some still wouldn’t agree, but it was his life. Most wouldn’t say anything to him, anyhow. They were too afraid.
His reputation was well know and well deserved. The ones who would talk behind his back would learn not to. He’d also find something for Varo to do. The man was talented and needed to contribute. They’d explore that after everything else was settled.
He was going to do this. He had no idea how Varo would react or even if Varo cared about him. Adlar thought Varo did. There was a look he’d seen, but was that enough for Varo to give up all he knew to stay with Adlar?
Varo would never step foot off Helkan again. And what about Varo’s men? Would they demand to be freed? This could turn into a big mess with far reaching consequences. This could actually change their society.
He gulped. This could actually lead to him losing Varo. Could he keep Varo with him if Varo didn’t love him? Could he let him go? Was that even an option? The Helkans didn’t release prisoners. If they did set Varo free, he’d have to set Varo’s men free too. And if they did that, what would that do to their reputations as a people? Damage it, he was sure. 
First thing after Varo woke, they’d talk. He’d tell Varo how he felt. And for the first time in a long time, fear ran its cold, bony fingers across his neck. He couldn’t lose Varo, but he also couldn’t the feeling something life-alternating was about to happen.

Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America member!

I'm very proud to announce I was accepted into SFWA today. SFWA is a professional organization for authors of science fiction, fantasy, and related genres. Huge, huge thank you to all the Harvest fans out there. The Harvest series is what qualified me. *hugs*
SFWA membership is open to authors, artists, and other industry professionals, including graphic novelists. Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, Inc. was founded in 1965 by the American science fiction author Damon Knight and was originally named Science Fiction Writers of America. At that time, the distinction between science fiction and fantasy was less important and SFWA’s name was accepted as encompassing both.
Later, the name of the organization was changed to Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, although the acronym SFWA was not changed. The acronym may be pronounced as either ‘SEFwa’ or ‘SIFwa’.
Today, SFWA is home to over 1800 authors, artists, and allied professionals, and is widely recognized as one of the most effective non-profit writers’ organizations in existence. Each year the organization presents the prestigious Nebula Awards® for the year’s best literary and dramatic works of speculative fiction.
Learn more about the benefits of joining SFWA. That link will tell you what the eligibility requirements are and how to apply online if anyone is interested in an application. There is a fee, and you do have to meet certain requirements, which is explained. Frankly, I think it's worth it. :) 

Welcome guest blogger Michael Mandrake: Reconnection and a giveaway

Should More Athletes Come Out the Closet?Author Sharita Lira A year ago, Michael Sam made history by becoming the first gay NFL player to be drafted. Before that, NBA player Jason Collins made history by coming out as the first athlete in one of the 4 major sports to announce he’s gay. The list continues with Alan Gendreau, a place kicker from Middle Tennessee State, entering the NFL draft and Kevin Grayson, a football player with the Italian Football league also announced he was gay. With so much talk about athletes coming out, one has to wonder will it be a benefit to anyone who is still uncomfortable with their sexuality? Many experts or people watching the stories say yes; their courage will give other gay men and women the strength to be happy with who they are. Perhaps it will assist gay youth who believe there is no way out. Maybe move others to do the same thing. On the other side of the coin, some say no. Why? Because these athletes all have something in common; Michael Sam was cut by 2 NFL teams and is currently about to play in Canada with the Montreal Alouettes. Gendreau wasn’t drafted, Grayson plays overseas, and Collins was only signed by NBA team because they needed a body. One could argue the fact they aren’t actually playing in one of the four majors, shows the leagues still have a bias. No fault of their own of course but, other athletes like them could say something like, “Well I’m not coming out because it might cause me to lose my opportunity.” Much like in the military when DADT was still in the effect, many service men and women worried about their jobs and their safety. They feared being found out by their superiors or their peers, which ultimately resulted in a dishonorable discharge. After DADT’s repeal, they won’t get thrown out, but they still face challenges. DOMA is dead and marriage equality is here, but the homophobia still reigns. The majority might not care, but there’s always a few that take issue. Don’t believe it? Just Google tweets and posts by certain athletes disgusted when Sam kissed his then boyfriend, Vito on television when drafted. Clearly, players are still “worried” about being around gay men.  The NBA, NFL, NHL, and MLB have had players come out after they’ve stopped playing, but we have yet to have an active athlete in one of these sports to play in a major league game after coming out. Just last week, Sean Conroy was the first active gay player to throw in the majors. Still, he was playing in a minor league game. Will Conroy get to play for a major baseball team
Blurb:Every once in a while, the average looking guy scores!
Robert McIntyre is a closeted, average looking sports columnist for the Daily Read. Unfortunately, his desire to stay in has cost him the chance at love more than once. However, now it seems his luck will change since his editor has asked him to interview, Jake Valenta. Jake and Robert knew one another in college and when he heard from a mutual friend that Jake might be bisexual, Robert didn’t believe him.
Before Robert’s trip, they discover a mutual affection for one another. Jake shares his desire to stay behind closed doors because he can’t stand being called a fag, but desperately wants Robert to be his man.
Robert and Jake want a chance to reconnect on a more personal level, but will this budding relationship ruin their careers?

Buy links:  Evernight PublishingAmazonAReSmashwordsBookstrand


Excerpt:Later on that evening, Jake and I finished our meal and we returned to the couch with wine and beers in hand. Jake is a masterful griller, cooking steaks with side salads and corn on the cob. It had been a while since I had such a filling and well cooked dinner. Most of the time in Chicago, my nights were Chinese takeout or fast food burgers.“Ah, now this is nice. You and me, on the sofa, drinking liquor with sports on the TV. Can’t get any better than this.” Jake popped the cap on his beer open.“Yeah, well, the NBA isn’t one of my favorite sports, but I guess it will have to do. It’s either that or hockey.” I cracked open the Merlot and poured myself a glass. “You’re not into either one?“Nope. Baseball’s my first love. Football is second for me. I love college and pro.”“See I hate college football. I think it stems from our alma mater’s pigskin team getting more recognition than we did.”“Yeah, and they got all the funding too,” I added with a laugh. “The NCAA knows college football can command more money than baseball, so they give them more attention.”“And they didn’t even deserve it. They went 7-4 last year, for fucking last in the conference. We went to the playoffs and beat the number one seeded team.”“But no one likes college baseball.”Jake waved his hand and took another swig of beer. “Ah, whatever. I’m gone anyways, but it still sticks in my craw how they considered as unimportant.”“You weren’t irrelevant, just the team. What happened when you got to single A, by the way? You weren’t seeing the ball, or…”“I thought we were forgetting about the interview, Rob. Let’s save that for when we talk on the record.”“I am. I’m just curious, that’s all.”“I haven’t got a clue, Rob. I just wasn’t picking up the pitches like I should’ve.”“Hm, well I’m glad everything’s going well now. The general manager was wondering if he’d made the right choice with the pick. I knew you’d get it together sooner or later.”“You had faith in me?” Jake caressed my leg through my jeans and flashed me a wry grin. Feeling his hands on me again caused the adrenaline to rush through my veins. I desired nothing more than to attack him on this couch and forget all about the game on television. “I’ve alwayshad faith in you.”



About the Muse and Author
Michael Mandrake pens complex characters already comfortable with their sexuality. Thorough these, he builds worlds not centered on erotica but rather the mainstream plots we might encounter in everyday life through personal experiences or the media.
To find out more please visit Michael Mandrake at Wordpress
Author Sharita Lira: 

In one word, crazy. Just crazy enough to have 3 4 different muses running around in her head, driving her to sheer exhaustion with new plot bunnies and complex characters.


In addition to being a computer geek and a metalhead, Sharita loves live music, reading, and perusing the net for sexy men to be her muses. She’s also a founding member and contributor to the heavy metal ezine Fourteeng.net.


For more information, please visit http://www.thelitriad.com as well as her Facebook fanpage, The Literary Triad.


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Prize:3 Ebook copies of Reconnection
1 $5 Amazon GC

In Enemy Hands Chapter 9

Chapter Nine
The next morning Adlar showed Varo areas in the palace not restricted to him. Adlar avoided planetary defense, communications, and other important hubs. Varo had no business there without him.
But there were other areas that would entertain Varo, like the art gallery and a well-stocked public library. The gardens were magnificent too. There were workers who tended them who would do tours and lectures.
As they walked down a hallway, they noticed a group of palace guards making their way outside. Seeing Varo’s interest, Adlar took Varo to the guards training grounds which were divided into sections. As luck would have it, several of the palace guards were already there training one of the numerous obstacle courses.
“Does any of those look familiar?” Adlar asked as they walked closer to the courses.
“We use many of the same type of methods, yes.” Varo pointed to some equipment on the closest course. “We call that the slide of life, and that over there? It’s the incline wall. The belly crawl is always well hated too.”

Other guards were sparring with swords or bots. Several paused and bowed to Adlar as he and Varo passed. He returned their greetings with a nod and a wave of his hand. Not a one acknowledged Varo.
“Well, well. Look at what the batar dragged in. Would you like to join us, Adlar?” One of the older guards, Tomack, yelled.
“Yes!” His younger partner added, his voice excited. “Show these old men how it’s done, your Lordship.”
The older guard smirked as he glanced at his sparring partner. “Pup, don’t make me put you on the ground in front of Adlar.”
Adlar grinned at the younger guard. Tomack was Captain of the Palace Guard and certainly no slouch. The male had earned the title. Adlar glanced at Varo. Tomack might be older, but he was still a prime specimen and his experience wasn’t to be ignored.
He was so tempted to strip off and show Varo that he too was… Good gods. What am I doing? Trying to impress Varo with my skill? Or my body? The answer was a resounding yes to both, which mortified him even more. He wanted to see admiration and lust in Varo’s gaze… not the creeping desperation he’d noticed lately. Varo hid it quickly, but he’d still saw it.
“Sorry, Captain Tomack. Not this time. I’ve prior plans. ” Adlar gestured toward Varo. “This is—”
“Prince Varo,” said Tomack as he moved closer to them. “Yes, your Lordship, we’ve heard of the Yesri prince.” Captain Tomack blanked his face as he turned to Varo. He didn’t bow, but he did nod his head in Varo’s general direction. “Greeting.”
Adlar noticed the slight, but didn’t call Tomack on it.
“Greeting to you,” Varo answered. “I was just telling Adlar we have some of the same obstacles on our courses too, but I noticed a few I’ve never seen. They’re very impressive. The logs in the water caught my eye immediately.”
Surprise flashed across Captain Tomack’s face. “Ah… thank you. I’m the one who came up with that. I call them the balancing logs. It’s great for balance and endurance. And the water they are in? Well, that little pond is ground fed and incredibly cold too.”
Varo stared at the pond, and then suddenly laughed. “Brilliant. The shock of the cold water takes your breath away, yes?”
“Oh, yes, most definitely.” Tomack nodded, a wicked grin creeping across his face. “That’s the endurance aspect of it.”
“Our captain has a bit of an evil side,” Adlar joked.
“Ha! Let him fool you not. He’s the one with an evil mind.” Tomack slapped Adlar on the back.
“I’m aware,” Varo agreed. “Would you mind if I took a closer look? Maybe see how the logs are used?”
“Sure.” Tomack waved at two younger men milling around. “Since these two seem to be at loose ends, they can demonstrate.”
Both guards groaned, but walked to the logs. Varo looked to Adlar. With a nod, Adlar told him to go.
Tomack and Adlar stayed where they were as the young guards made their way onto the log. Varo stood at the edge of the pond, his questions drifting back to them on the breeze. They could hear his interest, and more importantly, his respect as he spoke to the guards.
Adlar waited.
Finally Tomack spoke. “He’s not what I’d expected.”
“No?”
“No. I thought he’d be more… spoiled, I guess. Arrogant like the rest of his kind. ”
“Oh, believe me, he can be.” Adlar watched as the guard’s started spinning the log with their feet while still trying to stay standing. “It’s not as bad as it was in the beginning. He’s like a small child in some ways. He wants, so he thinks he should have. Make no mistake, he’s very smart. He has a starship captain’s rank.”
“But he’s not…” Tomack frowned as the also stared at Varo.
“Cruel is the word I believe you want. Having his freedom restricted, being forced to consider viewpoints he’d never considered before, and seeing us has been an eye-opening experience for him. We were the enemy before. Now he sees us as a people. People with needs, desires, and wants.”
Tomack turned to face Adlar. “You… respect him even though he wears a slave collar.”
Adlar chuckled as he too watched the guards on the log. Others had joined to watch and the taunts and encouragements flew. “He may wear that collar, but he’s no slave. He’s too sure of himself. Confident. Able.”
“You haven’t tried to break him, then.”
“No. And I won’t.” Adlar scowled at the group watching the two males on the log. There were quite a few, and it was hard to see Varo in the mist of them. “There’s good in him, and I plan to bring it out.”
Tomack narrowed his eyes at Adlar. “Oh, frack me running. You care for him.”
“I do.” Adlar took a step toward the pond. Was there shoving now? Where was Varo? “It’s more than care, actually. Much, much more. He takes up every spare thought I have. I enjoy his company. I’ve even gone easy on him because the idea of activating the collar leaves me cold. I don’t wish to hurt him.”
Tomack sputtered. “Are you telling me you love him?”
Suddenly the fun and game atmosphere had changed, and Adlar strode toward the pond, uneasy. Tension had filled the area. “I’m not exactly sure what it is I feel for him, but—”
A yell came from the group and a splash sounded.
“Oh, frack.” Tomack took off behind Adlar. “Oh fracking frack.”
Laughter sounded around the pond.
Adlar shoved two males out of the way. The guards were still on the log so that wasn’t the splash he’d heard. No, in the ass-tingling, chest-high bitterly cold water stood Varo, bright blond hair dripping. A harsh, violent growl sounded and the males nearest him stepped back in fear.
“Who?” Adlar demanded to the group. The face of several terrified males looked back at him. “I asked who ? Who dares to touch what is mine? Who wishes to feel my blade? I’ll skin whoever did this alive. ”
“Um, hey, Adlar?”
Adlar jerked his furious back gaze toward Varo, who waded over the side of the pond, teeth chattering.
“I, ah, slipped and fell in. You know what a klutz I am.” He held up his hand. “Can you help me?”
Adlar gaped at Varo. And he knew then, beyond a shadow of a doubt, he’d just fell in love with the hardheaded male. No one spoke a word as Adlar pulled Varo out of the water. Still glaring, Adlar searched the crowd which was quickly disbursing, looking for anyone who appeared overly guilty. No one would make eye contact, which was probably just as well.
“Can we, um, return to your rooms? It’s rather chilly out here.”
Tomack came running with several towels. “Here. Adlar, I promise I’ll get to the bottom of this.”
Varo used one of the towels to wring the water out of his hair. The other one Adlar draped around his shoulders. “There’s nothing to get to the bottom of . I slipped and fell.”
Adlar grasped Varo’s chin and stared into those lovely brown eyes. “You slipped.”
Varo stared back. “Yes.”
“Are you sure that’s how you wish to play this?”
Varo didn’t flinch from his course, nor did he drop his eyes. “I’m not playing anything. That’s what happened.”
Still holding Varo’s chin, Adlar whispered, “Such grace in your actions. It will be as you say then.”
“Thank you,” Varo breathed softly, moving closer to Adlar as a shiver racked him.
Adlar dropped his hand, but not before tracing the soft skin of Varo’s jaw. “Come. Let’s get you out of those wet clothes.”
Varo turned to follow Adlar, but stopped as Tomack stepped in front of him, bowing low. “It was a pleasure and an honor to meet you, Prince Varo.”
Surprise flashed across Varo’s face. “T-thank you.”
Adlar nodded at Tomack, pleased at the sign of respect he’d shown Varo. One was supposed to bow low to royalty, and Varo was royalty… even if he did wear a slave collar.
Adlar led Varo back to his rooms. Varo took a quick shower to get the stink of the pond water off him and warm up. As Varo showered, Adlar received a message from his brother inviting them to the final meal. Varo walked in the main living area, dressed. He had a towel he used to dry his long hair.
“Omori has invited us for the final meal in his chambers again. It’ll be just us.”
“Oh, okay then. That sounds nice. Do you and your brother spend a lot of time together?”
“When we can. More often than not we have too many responsibilities that pull us this way and that. We can’t spend the time together like we used to when we were younglings.”
“At least you and your brother get along.” Varo shrugged. “Do you know what he’s serving? Maybe we should bring a wine or something to go with the meal?” Varo headed to the bathroom. “Let me dry my hair and I’ll be ready.”
Adlar watched Varo leave, his thoughts returning to the training field. The Varo he knew would have shrieked loudly enough to wake the dead when pushed into that cold water. He’d even expected it.
Fact was, he really couldn’t blame Varo if he had reacted in such a way. He had. He’d been furious. The ones who pushed Varo were lucky not to feel the kiss of his blade. While he’d reacted with anger, Varo had reacted with calm. Had even denied someone pushed him. Of the two of them, Varo had acted more maturely.

Gods, how had that come to pass?
TBCSorry I got a little behind on this. Last week I spent worrying about a damn bruise being a blood clot, and yeah, it messed with my head. It's not a blood clot, thank goodness, so all is well lol. ~M

Pride Promotions presents 24-Karat Conspiracy by EM Lynley and a giveaway!

Author Name: EM Lynley
Book Name: 24-Karat ConspiracySeries: Precious GemsBook: FourSeries is recommended to be
Release Date: June 12, 2015






Blurb: 
Love is the only gold

Former Ranger turned FBI agent Reed Acton faces his biggest challenge yet: a Christmas visit from partner Trent Copeland’s parents. He’s less equipped to handle hugs and holidays than the Taliban or international art thieves. When he’s assigned to track down a set of gold Babylonian artifacts looted from the Iraqi National Museum after the fall of Baghdad, things start to look up.

This time, Trent’s part of the mission, which takes them to exotic Istanbul. The crowded streets and labyrinthine markets fascinate Trent, but soon murder is on their trail. The investigation continues as Reed goes undercover at a US Army base, with Trent masquerading as his spouse. Surprisingly, fastidious and ever-fashionable Trent fits into base life right away and soon takes one of the suspects’ wives under his wing when domestic abuse rears its head.

Their faux marriage leads Reed to appreciate Trent in ways he never expected, strengthening their bond—until Reed has to confront the worst demons from his past: his relationship with his estranged family.
Pages or Words: 240 pages, 72k words
Categories: Contemporary, Mystery, Romance



Excerpt:
Trent was gnawing on some toast while Reed poured him another cup of coffee. He looked askance when Reed made the request. “You want me to accidentally run into her and suddenly become her best friend?”“That’s pretty much it. They don’t have kids, so you won’t have to hang out at the school trying to bump into her.”“Good. I don’t need ‘sexual predator’ on my résumé.” Trent shook his head. “What does she do? And what is her name?”“Don’t worry about her name. You haven’t met her yet, so don’t run the risk of actually using it.”“Good point.”“There is a reason the Bureau has us do four months of new agent training…. And they don’t even teach everything there.”“Okay, so what does Mrs. Bradshaw like to do? I can’t just stalk her.”“Nope.” Reed pulled a printout from a folder he had set on one of the kitchen chairs. “Okay, she spends a lot of money at MAC. What’s that?”“Makeup store.” Trent took another sip of coffee.“Yeah, next on the list—”“That’s not a bad idea, Rex. Katie could use a makeover. That wouldn’t be tough to arrange.”“She works out at the base gym, and she signed up for several cooking classes at somewhere called Cuisine-Art.”Trent groaned. “I guess I could take a cooking class.”“Bring Katie. She probably knows Bradshaw’s wife, and that could help ease your way into a friendship.”“Fine. Cuisine-Art it is, today.”“Thanks, Troy.” Reed loved using their undercover names, even when they were alone. He stood up and kissed Trent, then left for work.Trent checked the Cuisine-Art website to see what classes they were running that day. Only two. Lunches of Love—“new techniques for making packed lunches a special treat for hubby and kids” and Noodlicious—“making your own pasta has never been easier or more fun!”When they had to tell you something was fun and use an exclamation point, it usually wasn’t. But Trent was prepared to take both classes, for Reed. At least he could bring Katie, and then it might actually be “fun!”Lunches of Love started at eleven, so Trent called Katie at nine to invite her along. She sounded hesitant at first.“I don’t really like cooking. I used to, but lately I don’t.”Trent remembered Reed’s comment about all the expensive cooking equipment. Why had she stopped enjoying it? Was it because of her husband? He didn’t exactly deserve any Lunches of Love. “Well, then, you’re the perfect candidate. The classes sound like fun, and even if you never make anything, it will get you out of the house.”“That’s true. Anything that isn’t shopping or coffee. I’ve had enough of both.”Hallelujah. Trent usually loved shopping and coffee, but the women at Fort Sam had turned him off of both in the space of two short weeks. “So you’re in?”“Yeah. And Paul is doing something after work, so I don’t have to cook for him. We can have a relaxing day, and I can still get home in time to finish cleaning up after last night’s poker game before Paul gets home.”“Oh, damn. I forgot about that. Let me come over now and help.” Which is how Trent found himself with the perfect opportunity for more snooping. He felt a little guilty poking around in Katie’s life, and rationalized it because Paul might be breaking a law, and if he went to jail, maybe Katie would divorce him. Reed had been right about all the fancy appliances and cookware. Katie even had a few items Trent didn’t own back home.

Sales Links: Dreamspinner Press: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=6513
All Romance https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-24karatconspiracy-1817874-145.html
 Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/24-Karat-Conspiracy-Precious-Gems-Lynley-ebook/dp/B00Z2G66IC
B&N http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/24-karat-conspiracy-em-lynley/1122078157?ean=2940151362290


About the author:EM Lynley writes sizzling gay romance with a hint of mystery. She loves books where the hero gets the guy and the loving is 11 on a scale of 10. A Rainbow Award winner and EPIC finalist, EM has worked in high finance, high tech, and in the wine industry, though she'd rather be writing hot, romantic man-on-man action. She spent 10 years as an economist and financial analyst, including a year as a White House Staff Economist, but only because all the intern positions were filled. Tired of boring herself and others with dry business reports and articles, her creative muse is back and naughtier than ever. She has lived and worked in London, Tokyo and Washington, D.C., but the San Francisco Bay Area is home for now.


Where to find the author:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/emlynley Facebook Author Page:  https://www.facebook.com/groups/790672047651196/Twitter:  https://twitter.com/emlynleyPinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/emlynleyWebsite:  http://www.emlynley.comFree Reads: www.emlynley.com/free-stories/


Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2839305.E_M_LynleyPublisher: Dreamspinner PressCover Artist: Anne Cain


Tour Dates & Stops: 12-Jun MM Good Book Reviews
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19-Jun Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words
22-Jun Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents
23-Jun For the Love of Bookends
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I'm a Top 100 Author for 2016 for ARe!!! And ARe took the Nighttime series

I have some fab news, y'all! About two weeks ago an email showed up that blew my mind. For 2016 I made the Top 100 Author List at ARe. *bounce*
Oh my gosh, I had to read the email like half a dozen times lol. Then I noticed that I had ALSO been invited to submit books to ARe. *falls down in shock* Oh my gosh again, how cool was that??? It's invitation only, and I was invited lol. 
So, now the good news that came with that. ARe has contracted the Nighttime series. Y'all might remember this is the scifi series where the aliens had tentacles. I added a little new material to book #1 which is still called Nighttime Wishes. 
Now, book #2 was Nighttime Dreams. What I did was take that material and add part of it to book #1. The beginning of Nighttime Dreams was in Shawn's POV so I added that to book #1. The rest of Dreams I added to Book #3, which is still Nighttime Promises. 
So, Nighttime Dreams no longer exists. Wishes and Promises have been increased in size, but that's due to mostly Dreams being absorbed into them. (I did add a prologue to book #1) There's only two books in the series now and ARe is going to re-edit them and do new covers. I'm very excited!!!
The release date for Nighttime Wishes is September 1. The release date for book #2, Nighttime Promises is November 1. 

Bad Boys Club (Box Set) is now available at Changeling Press!

Bad Boys Club (Box Set) 

Buy Link: http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?upt=book&ubid=2388



Cover art: Bryan Keller
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Genre(s): Paranormal, Dark Fantasy, BDSM, New Releases, Romance [image error]

Theme(s): Menage, Vampires, Werewolves, Voyeurism and Exhibitionism, Dark Desire, Gay [image error]

Series: Bad Boys' Club

Length: Collection [image error]

Page Count: 146




**Publisher's Note: Bad Boy's Club contains the previously published novellas Lust and Ice, Into the Darkness, and Haunting the Night. **



Book Summary:

Not all romances are sweet and fluffy.

Pounding music and writhing bodies fill the dance floor at Night Moves. A small, very elite group of friends called The Bad Boys Club use the place as their personal hunting grounds. Spoilt, powerful, and totally amoral, they use men without thought for the consequences of their actions. But each of these predators harbors a secret desire, a passion, that drives him.

And it hasn't gone unnoticed.

Three dangerous paranormals on the prowl for a mate stalk the humans. Dark and deadly desires are their calling cards. A demon prince, an ancient vampire, and one of the deadliest werewolves to exist have their sights on The Bad Boys Club and their sensual secrets. Love comes in all forms, even for unscrupulous humans and lethal paranormals.




Excerpt from Lust and Ice"You have the devil's own luck," Jordan groaned.

"Actually, that's Kain. I'm still behind him by two virgins."

"How do you find these guys?" Allen complained. "I've only managed to find two!"

"Oh shut up. You're one ahead of me." Jordan rolled his eyes.

"Back on subject, fellows. Did I mention how sweetly he cried?" Hugh smirked. "And get this... he's thinks I'm going to keep calling him now, be his boyfriend. Seems like he was waiting for that special someone, the love of his life."

"Yeah, right. What a loser." Allen sneered. "How often did you have to tell him you loved him?"

"Too many times." Hugh's disgust was clear as he raised his glass and winked. "Like I'd be caught dead outside of a bedroom with someone like that."

"Goes without saying." Kain sprawled in his chair. "So, how's it looking down there? Fill me in."

"Jordan and I have a bet going about who's going to do that redhead on the dance floor first," Allen said. "He's the one with the green shirt, there in the middle."

"Why not do him together?" Hugh asked.

"We plan to." Allen winked. "I said I'd do him first. We'll tag team him later. Been awhile since Jordan and I got to do a double penetration."

Kain's hearty laugh boomed out, drawing attention from those around them. "I almost feel sorry for the guy." Kain glanced around the group; several pairs of disbelieving eyes stared back at him. "Okay, no I don't."

"The legendary Ice feels sorry?" Hugh's lips twisted. "That'll be a cold day in hell."

"Hell wouldn't have me."

"Oh yeah, it would. Personally, I think we'd end up ruling hell." Allen smirked at Kain.

"Ah, someone has that position, remember?" Jordan shrugged.

"We could be kings, or lords."

"There's supposed to be seven princes of hell. One for each deadly sin." Hugh rolled his eyes as his friends stared at him. "What?"
Excerpt from Into the Darkness

“Same plan as usual?”

Allen waited until Jordan turned and looked at him. “Why mess with what works? I’ll move in first, then you come in after I set him up. We’ll get him all hot and bothered, then take his ass home. I bet we have him in bed before the hour is out.”

Jordan slapped Allen on the back. “I agree. If it isn’t broke, why fix it? Although it would be nice, for once, if our marks didn’t just fall to the floor and puddle at our feet.”

“Are you nuts? Besides, what do you expect out of these sluts?” Allen shrugged. “And by the way, I will fuck him first.”

“Keep telling yourself that. Got a feeling he’s going to beg me to do him first.”

Allen rolled his eyes. They’d just see about that. “My place or yours this time?”

They lived just a block apart. Allen had tried to buy an apartment in the same building as Jordan, but there had been nothing available that was as nice. Allen ended up purchasing his own place as close as he could to Jordan.

Jordan shrugged as he searched the dance floor. “Doesn’t matter to me, but my place is probably cleaner. The maid came yesterday.”

“Fine by me, we’ll do him at your place then. Besides, you have more toys. And a bigger bed.”

“Thought you took care of that little oversight?”

“My new bed will be arriving next week. Plus, I want you to go with me to check out some of the toys I found at this new place that just opened up. You have a better feel for things like that.”

“Competitive asshole.”

Allen chuckled. “Pot… meet kettle. You went out and bought a new BMW just because I got one. I’m not even going to mention the hair.”

Jordan shrugged, then stepped aside as someone -- a tiny blond who looked entirely too young to be allowed in the club -- passed him. “I liked yours better. Hey Allen, did you see that little blond twink?”

Allen raised an eyebrow as he looked in the direction Jordan indicated. “Hmm? No, I didn’t. But a blond? Really? Are you feeling okay?”

“Not for us, you shit. I was thinking that was more along the line of what Hugh likes -- young, sweet, and innocent. Even though he doesn’t look old enough to be in here.”

“Playing matchmaker now, are you?”

“Fuck off.” Jordan laughed as he pushed Allen toward the dance floor.



Excerpt from Haunting The Night

Hugh sat at the table watching as Kain, Jordan, and Allen made their moves on the prey they’d picked out. He’d checked the dance floor, and not one guy he saw impressed him so far. He needed a change -- something or someone to break the monotony. With a sigh, he picked up his glass. Before he could take a drink, that feeling of being watched hit him square between the shoulder blades again. His shoulders tensed and chill bumps broke out over his flesh.

“What the hell?” 
While he was used to being stared at, and even got his own fair share of attention from the paparazzi, this was different. More intense, more… threatening, almost. Unease flooded him, and he couldn’t shake the recurring feeling of danger. Hugh glanced around, but didn’t see anyone taking an undue interest in him. Maybe a family member of one of the defendants they’d gotten off was stalking him. Hugh dismissed the idea immediately; that was just silly.

More likely his old man had someone keeping an eye on him. Now that he could believe -- the nosey old bastard. “Fuck this.” The whole night had been off from the get-go, and he’d had enough. He rose, with every intention of leaving, when the overhead lights spotlighted someone at the bar below.

“Well, hello,” he murmured as he stared at the young man at the main bar. Jesus, how had he missed this one? He was perfect. Damned if he was leaving now. The night was suddenly looking up.

Dressed simply, in faded jeans, a black T-shirt, and a leather bomber jacket, was a stranger, one of the most gorgeous men Hugh had ever seen. He was everything he wanted in a man -- cute, small, and blond. The perfect twink. Actually, the tiny blond looked entirely too young to be in Night Moves, but he was sure the guy wouldn’t be allowed in if he was underage. To make things even better, his target was staring at him. Even from this distance, he could see the hunger dancing in the stranger’s eyes. He was a little more blue-collar than Hugh normally went for, but what the hell. Hadn’t he just been thinking he needed a change?

“Yeah, why not?”

Hugh had taken no more than a few steps when the man at the bar winked at him. Most of the twinks he picked up were either drama queens or shy little guys. There was certainly nothing shy about this man. Hugh raised an eyebrow. He’d have to show the stranger who was in charge, of course, then they could have some fun. At least it looked like he wasn’t going to have to put out much effort tonight, and that suited him just fine. Hugh made his way downstairs to the main bar and to the guy waiting on him.