Tracey Steinbach's Blog, page 4

Unconventional by Avery Aster Blog Tour

      From the NYT Bestselling author of The Manhattanites series and for fans of such films as Vicky Cristina Barcelona and Wild Things comes a ménage romance posing the question; can two men share the same woman forever? They are the best of friends and the greatest of lovers. Two men and one woman, searching for fortune and fame, bound together by an eroticism their money and power can’t buy them. Luigi, the romantic alpha hunk. Rocco, the exotic bisexual. Jemma, the insatiable beauty who possesses them both. From their first rendezvous in Milan, the three set out on a wicked course, jet-setting from the kinky underground sex clubs of Berlin, to the lavish palaces of Moscow, to New York’s high society in pursuit of pleasure. They have only each other to care for. That is…until a baby comes along and changes their destiny. But which of them is the father? And will they continue their poly relationship or give in to convention?    
 
 
Three Months Ago Isola di Girasoli, Mediterranean Sea   On top of the cliff, overlooking the blue sea, I grabbed my boyfriend’s hand, pulled him to my side and asked, “Ready, bello?” Rocco’s short nails grazed my skin. He’d been biting them all week. He always did when he was nervous. “Jemma is going to say yes…” he whispered in my ear. “Sì, of course she is.” A few days before, we’d selected the spot. He’d suggested, “This is where we’ll ask her to marry us,” I’d agreed. The view, the place… so magical and perfetto. Inhaling deeply, I smelled the briny air filled with the faint sticky aroma of sunflowers. The ground was covered in them, and Isola di Girasoli had even been named after them. Growing on vivid green stalks, their bright yellow faces open, reaching up to the white sky for warmth and light. They were gleefully rooted about, almost as if cheering us on. In a way, Rocco and I were similar to those flowers reaching for something—nourishment and love. We got down on our knees, and the warm soil pressed under my legs. Glancing up at the woman we loved, we each took her hand. Jemma Fereti. Tall. Striking. Ours. We called her dolce because she always tasted like tiramisu when we kissed. As I studied her finger, the one I’d put the ring on, I thought about us… For me, taking Jemma as my bride, and Rocco as my groom, meant forever. My life spent searching for intention would soon be complete. Together they made up my everything. For Rocco, our union symbolized something he’d yearned for: a family. Hopefully for Jemma it would mean peace after her year-long battle with breast cancer. “Amore, go on. Ask her.” Patience wasn’t Rocco’s virtue. “Give me a minute—” In private, we’d talked about the day for the past few months. We’d picked out the perfect engagement ring: a Tittoni Gems of Distinction twelve-carat pink diamond, a custom-made work of art from Manhattan for Jemma. And two simple gold bands for Rocco and myself. We’d planned the vacation: a week alone on the island, getting time away. Only the three of us. This was one of Jemma’s favorite Mediterranean locals. She’d grown up there with her royal friend, Prince Massimo Tittoni, who ruled over the small country. Having Jemma’s hand in marriage was all Rocco and I ever desired. Over the past few years, we’d loved each other as a thruple. Our special togetherness had been all her doing. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined an open poly relationship with one woman and another man working out. Certain jealousy and games would poison the affair, but it hadn’t tarnished our lovemaking in the least. That is till now. Rocco yearned for more, and frankly, so did I. Especially when Prince Massimo granted the Poly Marriage Act, legalizing the rights for those who loved openly to wed. “Dolce…we’d like to ask you something…” I got the words out. I wasn’t one to talk much. Regardless, Rocco had insisted it come from me. After all, I’d been with Jemma for almost a year before we’d met him. My boyfriend was the well-spoken one. The one in touch with his feelings. The man who’d glued the three of us together in ways which went beyond the boundaries of sex. He was the first and only man I’d ever had sex with, and I liked it. Oh, God, I fucking loved it! I loved him. “My amore—” Uncertainty quivered in Jemma’s voice. My left hand reached deep inside my pocket. I pulled out the diamond and held it up to her, sparkling in the sunshine, and asked, “Will you marry us?” With a smile, Rocco’s face beamed. Her mouth dropped open, asking, “Huh?”

New York Times bestselling author Avery Aster pens The Manhattanites, a contemporary erotic romance series of full-length, stand-alone novels, and the naughty new adult prequel companion series The Undergrad Years.As a resident of New York City and a graduate from New York University, Avery gives readers an inside look at the city’s glitzy nightlife, socialite sexcapades and tall tales of the über-rich and ultra-famous.Join Avery’s Newsletter and get a free ebook: http://eepurl.com/CQ665Like Avery’s Facebook : https://www.facebook.com/AveryAsterFollow Avery’s Twitter : https://twitter.com/averyasterFollow Avery on Instagram : http://instagram.com/averyasterFollow Avery on Tumblr : http://averyaster.tumblr.comFan Avery on Goodreads : http://www.goodreads.com/averyasterPin Avery on Pinterest : https://www.pinterest.com/averyasterFollow Avery on Amazon : https://www.amazon.com/author/averyasterFollow Avery on TSU : http://www.tsu.co/AveryAstera Rafflecopter giveaway

A Perfect Man for Christmas

A Perfect Man for ChristmasAn erotic serial in 12 partsBlog HOP
 1st Day of Christmasby Laurie Olerich


Christmas was coming, but Wynter wasn’t feeling festive. She was in-between men at the moment--and not in a kinky, sweaty threesome kind of way. Oh, she’d had dry spells before. That wasn’t a problem--usually. It was the timingthat was problematic. This was a special year. The sun and moon and stars were aligned just so. Most women survived the holidays in spite of their single status. She was notmost women. No. She most certainly was not. Leaning forward with a satin pillow clutched to her chest, she nibbled the tip of one claw and searched for an answer. There had to be a way out of this mess. She really liked her head attached to her body.  Before a plan presented itself, her phone rang, sending a shiver down her spine.It was him. Right on schedule.
As the church bells tolled the hour of midnight, Wynter arched her back, rocking her pelvis to match the furious rhythm of the man kneeling between her thighs. With his shaggy head flung back, neck straining with effort, he dug his fingers into her hips as he slammed into her with a shout just as her muscles contracted and she shattered around him with a cry of her own. As their breathing settled to something close to normal, Michael leaned forward to drag his mouth across her belly, dropping soft kisses over the newly inked tat that graced her hipbone.
“Sexy. I like that you’ve used my sigil.” His green eyes smoldered with passion as he traced the intricate symbol with the tip of his tongue. Nipping playfully, he held her impaled on his cock, shaking his head at her frown as she tried to move away.
“You say that like I had a choice. This was your order. I would’ve preferred a hummingbird.” She stopped squirming and bit her lower lip as his cock hardened for another round. With a mind of its own, her pussy twitched in welcome. Come on in, big boy!Love him? Hate him? It didn’t matter. Her body wanted him anytime. Anyplace. They’d been down this road more times than she could count. It wasn’t healthy, but who was she to argue? Her family’s future depended on keeping this creature happy. If she had to let him give her a screaming orgasm every now and then, she’d have to make that sacrifice. Taking one for the team... As if sensing her surrender, he let his mouth curl into a rare smile that promised pleasure.Her tongue played along her lower lip as she met his stare with a challenge in her eyes. He was beautiful. No one could say otherwise. His smoky green eyes stripped her defenses to leave her naked and wanting. Her sisters said he could see into your soul. Maybe he could. Rumor had it he wasn’t human. Human or not, he was impossible to resist.
“We’re almost out of time, Wynter. Are you ready for me?”Without breaking her gaze, she trailed a fingertip across the flushed skin of his throat and turned his chin downward. “I’m always ready for you.”
“Good girl.” He flashed his smile one last time before turning her around so she knelt on her knees. Clutching her hips close, he began to move with long, slow strokes that filled her to the good side of pain. She didn’t bother to smother the moan that escaped. God, he feels so good. To hell with Christmas. She tilted her hips to take him even deeper and gasped as his cock brushed that sweet spot deep inside. Closing her eyes, she shut out everything but the coiling pleasure in her belly. There’d be time for regret tomorrow.Thirty minutes later, they lay sprawled in a tangle of tanned arms and long legs, too exhausted to move, not really awake, but not totally asleep. Craving one last touch, she tucked her face into his shoulder and drifted off.
“Don’t forget it’s your turn to bring a man this year.” His husky tone softened the threat in his words but it was impossible to miss. She’d comply with his wishes or she’d beg for death. “Yeah, yeah. Beg for death. I--”With eyes gleaming in the dim light, he pressed his mouth to her ear. “Don’t test me, Wynter. You know the rules. Bring the man.”All righty then. So much for the afterglow.  She had her orders. She would find the perfect man and bring him to Christmas dinner. That’s the story she’d tell Mr. Perfect when she found him. The truth was so much worse.
When she eased awake the next morning, Michael was nowhere in sight. Even the indention of his head on the pillow was gone. She brought her fingers to her nose and breathed deeply, searching for some hint of his scent. Nothing. As usual, there was not a single trace of his presence. It was as if he didn’t exist at all. Except this time, he’d left a note on the nightstand.This could not possiblybe good.Go to the courtyard.Using the sheet as a sarong, torn between excitement and fear, she padded through the house until she came to the French doors that led to the frozen gardens of the courtyard.Closing her eyes against the painful site, she groaned, “He didn’t.”There, in the center of the tiny courtyard, stood a tree. A pear tree to be exact. And in that tree huddled a partridge. One sad, lonely, fat partridge. The bird’s head swiveled in her direction; it’s beady eyeball zeroing in on her. “And so it begins.”


Check out Laurie's website for her awesome books at http://www.laurieolerich.com/




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Old Titles and New Skills

Some of you might recognize the names of these stories. They were published in Evernight: Romance in a World of Darkness Volumes 1 & 2. I've always had a fondness for these, since Wulf's Curse was my first actual published work. It was the one which made me say "Maybe I can do this". So, I decided to self-publish the two stories together. They are from the same world and both short.
I needed a cover, though. I had a few credits left from my last excursion onto 123Rtf.com, so I bought this picture. I love playing with pictures. It's fun, especially when they come out pretty or super silly. Speaking of, check this one out:
I don't think it's that bad, actually.

Anyway, Wulf's Curse and In Love With His Best Friend's Sister should be available today on Amazon. I'm only charging $.99 since its short. Or if you're a member of Kindle Unlimited, it's free.
 http://www.amazon.com/Wulfs-Curse-Lov...

M.S. Spencer Guest Post

In my romantic suspense novel, Triptych, Miranda, Honor and Sybil Cabot live in a Queen-Anne style mansion overlooking the Potomac River. The mighty Potomac, the fourth largest river on the east coast, runs 383 miles from Fairfax Stone, WV to Point Lookout, MD where it flows into the Chesapeake Bay, the “Mother of Waters.”
Along its shores sit some of the most historic and beautiful cities in the United States—Washington DC being the star. Along its banks you can find the colonial cities of Georgetown and Alexandria, as well as George Washington’s home, Mount Vernon. North of the city lies the Great Falls.Miranda and her sisters live just below Great Falls, in the bend where the Three Sisters, tiny rocky islets in the middle of the river, lie. The rocks are the stuff of much legend, usually involving drownings and tragic endings. In this excerpt, Miranda tells the story of the three Indian maidens.Triptych, by M. S. SpencerEbook 67,300 words; Print 213 pp.Romantic suspense/AdventureM/F, 2 flames
Blurb:Take lost masterpieces, brilliant inventors, and stolen prototypes. Add the Three Sisters, Indian spirits who guard the Potomac River. Stir in three sisters and their lovers. Result? Jealousy, sex, genius, larceny and love. Who will end up with whom, and will the Three Sisters take another life as the legend demands?Buy Links:Triptych is available in both eBook and Print-on-Demand.Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Triptych-M-S-Spencer/dp/1519142102/Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/triptych-m-s-spencer/1106339037?ean=2940152457995Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-ca/ebook/triptych-17IBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/triptych/id1057493922?mt=11Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/591713AllRomanceEBooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-triptych-1923917-149.htmlCreatespace: https://www.createspace.com/5846670
Excerpt (G): The Three SistersThe Three Sisters. Miranda sat on an old wrought iron bench by the flower garden and gazed down at them. So many stories had settled on the three islets that rise some ten feet above the water at a bend in the river. There was the one about the three Catholic nuns who drowned.I never liked that version. Sybil’s favorite came from the local Necostin Indian tribe, because, she said, it reminded her of their own father, the Great White Hunter. Foolish girl. She often asked Miranda to tell it on long summer evenings as they tended the fire pit on the patio.“Come on, sister mine. Tell it again. You do it so beautifully.”Miranda, as usual, would oblige. “Long ago, an Indian maiden fell in love with a white settler, but the chief, her father, refused to allow their union. One night she made up her mind to defy him and swim across the river to meet her lover. As she neared the middle of the channel, her foot caught in one of the jagged rock fissures that rise from the bottom. Her two sisters swam out to save her, but a great storm blew up. The fierce wind gusted across the water, summoning a huge wave that roared down from the canyons. It pulled all three sisters under, where they drowned. But—”“This is the best part,” Sybil always interrupted at this point.“—but, the Great Spirit had mercy upon them, and transformed them into the three rocky islets we know as the Three Sisters.” Here she would lower her voice dramatically. “There are some who claim that late at night, when the rumbling noises of the city wane, you can hear their lonely moans wafting across the still waters. Others believe that, to avenge their deaths, they will pull under and drown any man who tries to cross the river there.”Three sad sisters, three lonely sisters. Just like us. Miranda rose from the bench, picked up one of Sybil’s pebbles, and threw it hard over the cliff. Moping wouldn’t help her move on.About the Author
Although she has lived or traveled in every continent except Antarctica and Australia (bucket list), M. S. Spencer has spent the last thirty years mostly in Washington, D.C. as a librarian, Congressional staff assistant, speechwriter, editor, birdwatcher, kayaker, policy wonk, non-profit director and parent. She has two fabulous grown children, one fabulous grandchild, and currently divides her time between the Gulf coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.
ContactsBlog: http://msspencertalespinner.blogspot.comFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/msspencerromanceTwitter: www.twitter.com/msspencerauthor
GoodReads:http://www.goodreads.com/msspencer
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/msspencerauthor/About.me: http://about.me/msspencerauthorTsu.co : http://www.tsu.co/msspencerauthorLinked in: www.linkedin.com/in/msspencerauthor
AUTHOR PAGES:
I Heart Book Publishing:http://www.iheartbookpublishing.com/m-s-spencer.html
Romance Books 4 Us: http://romancebooks4us.com/Romance%20Author%20M.%20S.%20Spencer.html ORhttp://bit.ly/1d6ehza
Amazon Author Page:http://www.amazon.com/M.S.-Spencer/e/B002ZOEUC8/
GoodReads:http://www.goodreads.com/msspencer

Where Wishes Go Blog Tour

Title: Where Wishes GoAuthor: S.A. McAuleyGenre: M/M Contemporary RomancePublished: October 2, 2015Publisher: Dreamspinner Press Can you have a second chance at a first love? Nick Paine is just starting to return to normal after he told his wife he’s gay and asked for a divorce. Despite a daughter he loves dearly and a job he believes in, part of him is stuck in the past. He’s never forgotten the first love he let fade away fourteen years ago.Adam "Izz" Azzi has settled into a happy rhythm. His daughter is healthy, he's found a mosque that accepts him, and his work as a modern artist is gaining international attention. While his past is fraught with mistakes and what-ifs, his life now is good, and he doesn't want to upset any of the balance he's worked so hard to achieve.When Nick and Izz are reunited by luck and fate, their attraction is just as undeniable, but what was left unsaid haunts them. They have hope for a future together, but wishing may not be enough.  

“There is so much complexity to this story and I absolutely LOVED it all. Each of the main characters were so well written that you feel like you are truly getting to know them. I enjoyed the depth of their feelings as they were written on the page because it make me feel like I was the one going through those emotions. Great read and can't wait to see more!” ~ Book Junky Girls

“All in all, this is a sweet second chance love story. It's not just about romance, though- it's about family and friendships- and it will leave you with a smile on your face. A solid 4 stars.” ~ Goodreads Reviewer

“Wow. Just... wow. This story was beautiful. Exceptional, heart-wrenching, gorgeous. The Romance genre is full of "love at first sight" stories, but this is a story about two men who fell in love as teenagers-- fell in love slowly, painfully, piece by piece-- and then were separated for years. It's about never forgetting your first love, and getting a chance to reconnect and rekindle that relationship.” ~ Just Love Romance

CHAPTER ONE
NICK PAINE tried to duck as a gigantic scarlet bird whipped over his head and he began to lose his balance. The first airborne attack was followed a second later by a screech and another swooping red streak that caused him to crouch and fall to his knees. At least he was wearing jeans today instead of a suit.
Katie snorted, let loose a torrent of giggles, and pointed. “He’s not going to hurt you, Daddy.”
“Isn’t it me who’s supposed to be telling you that?” Nick scrunched his eyebrows together and tried to chastise his daughter while also searching the birdhouse for further threats.
Katie rolled her eyes and flipped her long blonde hair off to the side, appearing much older than her eight years. “Come on, Daddy. I’ll protect you.” She offered her hand, and Nick grinned as he stood, taking her tiny hand in his.
It was a Wednesday morning, one in which Nick should have been sitting in a colorless conference room listening to doctors and administrators fight each other over inane operational details, but despite the threat of being pecked to death by tropical birds, Nick didn’t want to be anywhere else.
It was rare he was able to escape from work during the day, and this field trip to the zoo with Katie’s class had been the perfect excuse. The hospital system was always there. It was a twenty-four-hour seven-day-a-week commitment of utter chaos. Nick still wasn’t quite sure how he’d ended up as a vice president by the age of thirty-three, but had to concede his success had a lot to do with the inordinate number of hours he spent downtown. His generous salary was meant to compensate him for the endless hours on call talking nurses and cardiologists off the ledge while also making sure all their equipment and staffing needs were met. He loved his job and he was good at it, but it took him away from Katie way too much for his liking.
Nick pushed aside thoughts of the hospital. He would be flooded with e-mails, texts, and voice mail as soon as he switched his cell back on. Instead he listened to Katie patter on about the different kinds of birds that filled the zoo aviary.
“How do you know so much about them?” Nick asked as he forced his complete attention back to her.
Katie shrugged in a gesture that was too much like her carefree Uncle Roban. “I watch the National Geographic channel.”
“That much?”
Katie huffed. “Yeah, Daddy. A lot. Loads and loads.”
Nick restrained a laugh. Where had she come up with that phrase? She was growing up so fast. Much too fast for his liking. The years just kept slipping by, and as hard as his path had been as of late, Nick was grateful for the luck he did have. Katie was a beautiful girl. Tall and thin, just like her momma, she had blonde hair shades lighter than his that ran down to her waist and snarled easily with how fine it was. He’d given up attempting to brush the mats out a year ago, leaving the task to Katie’s grandmother or her nanny.
“Look at the baby geese!” Katie exclaimed, letting go of his hand and running full tilt down the pathway toward the birds. Then just as suddenly she was veering off again, a delighted squeal emanating from her. “A waterfall!”
Nick dug into his pockets as he walked to catch up, knowing what she was going to ask even before she said anything.
“I want to make a wish,” she pleaded, looking up at him with wide eyes.
Nick placed a quarter in her outstretched hand, earning a satisfied smile from her.
She scrunched her eyes tightly closed and whispered something Nick couldn’t hear, then tossed the coin into the water.
“What did you wish for, baby girl?” Nick asked, as was part of their routine.
“Daddy, you know I can’t tell you,” she protested with a pout. “Or else it won’t come true.”
Of course he knew that. Katie wanted to flip a coin into every fountain they encountered. And she always went about it as if her whole existence was placed into making that one wish come true. But she never told Nick what it was that she silently hoped for.
Nick had to wonder if she would remember this later on. If she would remember what she wished years from now, or at the very least remember enough to tell him later whether or not they came true.
Nick looked into her brown eyes—so much like his but with a fire that was all her own—and his breath caught. Yeah, he was just about the luckiest man in the world. She stood on her tiptoes, cupped her hands around his cheeks, and planted a kiss on his lips that left Nick with an ear-to-ear grin that he wouldn’t be able to wipe off for hours to come.A PLOP of wet plaster slid down Adam’s head, over his neck, and dripped under the collar of his shirt as Miriam’s laughter receded into the next room.
Well, then. He supposed he deserved that.
He’d been leaving Miriam to her own devices for far too long as he worked nearly nonstop to meet his deadline. Left on her own, Miriam would fill her time with the mischievous, surreptitious, and wicked dealings that could only be born of an Azzi. She was quiet like him, shy at first meeting, with the same black hair and chiseled features that stood out despite her age. Also like him, she was a goof when in her comfort zone, and Adam’s loft—even though it was a professional workspace—was one of the places she was most comfortable in. She had unlimited access to paints, pens, pencils, paper… and the plaster she’d just chucked at his head.
Adam picked up a stained rag and swiped the plaster off the back of his neck. “Miriam!”
He turned on his stool, rotating to face the kitchen area where Miriam peeked her head around the corner, hazel eyes wide and innocent. But Adam knew better than to be fooled by her appearance. He crooked a finger and pointed to the spot next to him.
She crawled on hands and knees, her eyes going Disney forest creature in size as she got closer to him, and Adam had to bite back a laugh. When she got to his feet, she sat with her legs crisscrossed, hands on her knees, and waited patiently for him to say something.
She was such a good kid. Wild at times, yes. But he’d been the same when he was her age. Unlike his upbringing, though, he was never going to allow Miriam to fear what kind of punishment she would receive. To others it might have made him seem like a soft father, but Adam had rules that were nonnegotiable and rules he expected her to challenge and break. He was always fair. Consistent. And he never touched her in anger. That alone made her childhood vastly different than his. Adam was going to protect her innocence as long as he possibly could.
“Miriam—” he started.
“Yes, Baba?” she interjected, then bit at her bottom lip.
Adam sighed. Whether it was genetics or environment, she was so like him it scared him some days.
“Why did you throw plaster at my head?” He asked the question in all seriousness, then heard how ridiculous it all sounded, looked at the growing smirk on his daughter’s face, and that was enough to send him into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. Adam swooped her off the floor and hugged her to his chest, tickling her ribs. Miriam squirmed and protested, her high-pitched giggle filling the studio.
“I love you, Miri,” he said as he squeezed her tight.
Miriam tucked her head into Adam’s neck and pulled her arms in so Adam had her wrapped securely.
“I love you, Baba.”
Adam’s heart was full almost to bursting. The laughter was enough to give him a second wind. He needed to work. He had to get this sculpture done. But he didn’t want to let his little girl go.
“Finish, then play with me, ’kay?” Miriam offered.
Adam started to tear up. She knew him better than any person in the world. This brilliant, vivacious, too smart for her own good little girl was his best friend. And Adam wouldn’t have had it any other way.
“Yeah, yeah. No more plaster, though,” he chastised her, then kissed the tip of her nose.
Miriam rubbed her nose in protest and squirmed out of his arms, already retreating at full speed. On to another adventure.
Adam sank onto his stool and turned back to his sculpture. Less than three weeks until his next show. And this piece, the focal point of the entire fiasco, had to be done by then. But Adam found himself pushing the work off. He sought inspiration and didn’t find it. He would rather not show it at all than display something that was so… incomplete.
He picked up his brush and studied the form, then put the brush back down. His fifteen-year high school reunion had been last weekend and he’d had no desire to go, but the memories had been inescapable regardless. It was those memories that had led to this piece…. Led to this creative fog he couldn’t force himself out of.
He would eat first. Maybe they’d take a walk. He’d do his afternoon prayers with Miriam, grounding himself in the tradition of his faith. He wasn’t as active in his practice as his mom was, but he still found strength in the words and tenets. In Islam, he found calm, and a connection to his family and to something that was greater than him.
Then, maybe then, his head would be clear enough to see this project to its end.
CHAPTER TWO
“NO, ROB,” Nick said definitively into the Bluetooth mic above his driver’s seat.
“Come on, dude!” Roban yelled on the other end of the phone, and Nick had to turn down the volume on the car speakers because of the sheer volume of the accent-tinged wail. It was only when Rob was really excited or drunk that his Indian accent started to slip through.
Nick took a deep breath and rested his elbow on the armrest. “This is my first day off in five months. I want to spend it with Katie.”
“She’ll be asleep—” Roban started at the same time that Katie, from the backseat, said, “I’ll be asleep, Daddy.”
Nick frowned. Well, then. Apparently the wee ones were joining forces on this one.
“Roban—” he tried again.
“Niiiick,” Roban answered.
Nick stole a glance in the rearview mirror where Katie was strapped into her seat. She had her arms crossed and a disapproving scowl on her face that would make her Uncle Daniel proud.
“Fine,” he relented and Roban gave a much too excited whoop in response. “I’ll go out. But not too late. I have to be at work early.”
“You’re always at work early,” Roban reminded him. “Live a little before your cardiologists drive you into a heart attack.”
“Fine,” he repeated. “But I’m going to drive.” He could try to keep some measure of control over the situation.
“Nope. We’re cabbing it. I’m getting you fucking wrecked. Shit, sorry, Katie,” Roban backtracked, as if he was just remembering he was on speakerphone.
“No worries, Uncle Ro,” Katie yelled from the backseat.
“That’s my girl. Now, Nick. I expect to see you in something else besides a button-down shirt and tie. We’re going downtown. Mayhem will ensue and you must be appropriately attired.

“It’s a Wednesday,” Nick reminded him.
“Willful Wednesday at the Screamin’ Shillelagh,” Roban responded with a laugh.
Nick stopped at the red light and hung his head in defeat. “Can’t we stay in the burbs?”
“I’ll pick you up at eight” was all Roban said, then his car notified him the call had ended.
Nick shut off his cell and threw it into the passenger seat, then pulled away when the light turned green. Roban would be the death of him. At the very least, the odds were in their favor to end up in a full-on street brawl after closing time. Either way, it wouldn’t be a boring night. Nick chuckled to himself.
“Who do you want to come stay with you, baby girl?” he asked Katie as they drove toward home. Katie was twirling her hair, deep in thought, when Nick glanced back at her. “What is it?” he asked with an edge of worry.
“Can you call Momma? See if she’ll come stay with me?”
Nick restrained a sigh and tried not to feel defeated at the sadness in Katie’s voice.
“Yeah, baby girl. I’ll call her when we get home.”
All laughter wiped away, Nick gripped the steering wheel and steeled himself for the call he was going to have to make.“I KNOW you’re in there, Azzi. I can smell the incense. Rather pungent even from out here. Open the door.” Charlie’s voice came from the hallway.
“Nobody’s home,” Miriam called out with a teasing lilt, then giggled.
Adam grinned and dropped his brush next to the paints, getting up to let Charlie in. It was pointless to try and keep the persistent gallery owner out even if Adam wanted to, but right now, he needed the reassurance. He was falling heavily into his brooding artistic stupor, sure in this moment that everything he had ever created was complete and utter shit, and that Charlie was a fool for wanting Adam’s work anywhere near his gallery. Adam needed some heavy petting of his artistic ego. And if anyone could do that, it would be Charlie Wells.
Charlie slipped his suit jacket off his lithe shoulders as he came in the door and then tossed the coat into a chair. “Good afternoon, Ms. Azzi,” he greeted Miriam and planted a kiss on her head.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Wells,” she responded with a smile.
“Miri, could you give Charlie and me a moment?”
Miriam lined up the pencils fanned out around her sketchbook and gathered everything into her arms, walking into the bedroom and pulling the door shut without question. She was used to this scenario by now. As much as she was an inspiration for Adam, he was clear on the boundaries of not letting her into his sullenness when it threatened to drag him under.
“Tea?” Adam offered and led Charlie into the kitchen.
“Please. With a shot of Jack if you have it,” Charlie requested.
Adam filled the kettle and set it on the stove. “You know I don’t drink, Charlie.”
“Not even thinking about it right now?” he prodded.
Adam leaned down on the counter, resting his elbows there and running his fingers through his mess of hair. He couldn’t remember if he’d showered yet today. Or yesterday.
“Yeah, I’m thinking about it,” he answered honestly. There was no point in hiding his darkness—or his continued recovery from it—from Charlie.
“Do I need to check the cabinets?”
Adam shook his head. “You can if you want. But, alhamdulillah, I don’t have anything.”
Charlie perked up immediately, tucking his brunet hair behind his ear. “Excellent. Now tell me, oh tortured soul. Where is the delay in your work coming from?”
The kettle began to whistle and Adam lifted two cups from the cupboard and set them on the counter. He took his time picking out which tea he wanted, using the quiet seconds to try and piece together his answer. He set the teabags into the cups, turned the stove off, and filled them with the hot water, then slid one cup into Charlie’s hands.
“Well?” Charlie pushed.
Adam took a sip of his tea that scalded his tongue, but he barely registered the pain. Yes, he definitely needed Charlie right now.
“It’s the piece.”
“Ah, the piece,” Charlie drew out.
“I don’t know if I can finish it.”
Charlie seemed to consider that. He twisted the mug in his hands, then lifted it to his lips to blow the steam away before taking a sip. “Talk to me.”
Adam nearly slammed his cup down, the liquid sloshing over his fingers. His anger took hold without thought or a valid target. “Talk to you? You know why this piece is difficult for me and yet you continue to push me on it. It’s too personal. Too raw. Maybe it should remain as unfinished as what it represents.”
Charlie cracked his neck and studied Adam, as unaffected as usual by his outburst. “Your other pieces in this show are just as raw, Adam. Just as emotionally challenging. For fuck’s sake, you have a whole set dedicated to Lily. You’re stumbling on this piece because you’re scared. There’s no other reason for it. Yes, it represents an old, unfinished part of your life. But it’s a part of your past that you need to embrace in order to move on. Art is not about being emotionally bereft. It’s about digging into the most painful and vulnerable aspects of our lives and bringing them to the surface for others to witness and understand. You’re scared, Adam. It’s not that this piece is unfinished, it’s that you are unfinished. And I think you’re scared of putting that part of your life to an end. That if you finish that piece, it will mean the relationship it represents is just as definitively over as the one you had with Lily.”
Adam ground his teeth together, trying to grasp on to his anger and use it to viciously protest just how wrong Charlie was. But he couldn’t. It was exactly what he’d been thinking. The more he worked around the edges of the mixed-media sculpture of plaster, paint, and fabric—the more he stubbornly refused to fill in the details of eyes, nose, and lips—the more he understood that this face was one that he was fighting to conjure into existence because it was so much safer tucked away as a memory.
If that sculpture was never finished, then he could continue denying that the person it represented had left a gaping wound in his soul that he didn’t know how to fill.
Charlie leaned forward and took Adam’s hands in his. “Is this the appropriate time for me to remind you that you are a successful artist because you bare your soul in your work? That people are drawn to what you create because it gives them a visceral reaction? Do I need to pull up the most recent reviews from the paper? ’Cause I’m sure I have them bookmarked on my phone.”
Adam gave a small laugh. “Yes, but no.”
Charlie tipped Adam’s chin up to meet his eyes. “You can do this, Adam.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“You can,” Charlie said with more determination this time. “And you will be better off for it.”
Adam felt the tears welling up in his eyes and forced them back down. If Charlie believed, then Adam would find a way to as well. “Okay.”“THANKS FOR coming, Shelly,” Nick said as he held the door open.
Katie came barreling around the corner and jumped into her mom’s arms. Katie buried her face in her mom’s neck and wrapped her arms around Shelly in a tight hug.
Nick’s heart ached at the sight.
Katie missed her mother more than she ever let on. She was a smart kid and she’d known when things started to turn south for him and Shelly. But Shelly’s abrupt departure from the house and her distance since then had been selfish—without thought to Katie’s needs—even if it was justified by Nick’s actions.
Shelly couldn’t look at him and she didn’t say a word as she stepped foot in the house she hadn’t been in for over a year. Nick clicked the door shut and followed them into the living room. Katie dropped out of her mom’s arms and looked between the two of them, a sad resignation filling her eyes that seemed to tug Nick’s heart right out of his chest.
He squatted down to Katie’s level and took her hand. “You think you could give your mom and me a chance to talk before Uncle Roban gets here?”
Katie tipped her chin up, giving him a smile that he knew was her brave one—a defensive tactic supplied by Uncle Daniel when the divorce had gotten ugly. “Can I go watch TV?”
“Of course, baby girl. We’ll be back in a minute.”
Nick stood as Katie ran off and gestured for Shelly to follow him.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” Nick asked to cut the tension.
Shelly stood stock-still behind the counter, separating herself from him, her arms crossed. “No. I know where everything is.”
Nick flinched.
It had been over six months since he’d last seen her and he couldn’t deny that she looked good. Much better than she had when they were in the throes of the divorce. Her blonde hair was cut short in a bob that accentuated her high cheekbones and clear blue eyes. She was thinner, but not unhealthy, and was dressed in a white tee and jeans with sandals. It was a casual look that reminded him of their time together in college. But nothing about her appearance had any physical effect on him. It hadn’t for at least two years. Not since he’d finally admitted to himself that he was gay and it was time to stop pretending.
“Thank you for coming.” He was repeating himself, but he needed her to understand his appreciation was genuine. “I know it’s hard being back here, but Katie can’t sleep anywhere else and she really wanted to see you.”
Shelly gave a dark laugh. “You said that on the phone.”
Nick crossed his arms, then uncrossed them. He had to try not to be defensive. “I know. I just want you to know I’m thankful. It has to be hard to be back here.”
“Who are you going out with?” she demanded.
Nick couldn’t find fault in her reaction. He knew what she was really asking: If he was seeing someone. If he was heading out to be with a man. Well, technically he was, but not as she thought. “Just Roban and Daniel.”
She sat down at the barstool and hunched forward, settling her chin in her hands. She looked away from him and Nick let her think. After a minute of quiet she spoke, but she still couldn’t look at him. “I miss you, Nick. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. I miss this house. I miss our life. And I miss Katie. It’s just all too much. It still is.”
Nick leaned against the refrigerator, backing away from the counter and giving her space. “I can’t pretend to really know, but I get it. Just—” His voice started to crack and he had to swallow around the surge of emotion. “Just try to remember Katie. Okay? She misses you too.”
Shelly wiped away a tear and faced Nick. “I’m a shit mom.”
Nick took a step closer to her and when she didn’t cringe back, he stepped up to the counter across from her. “No. You’re not. You need time to heal too. We all do. She knows you love her. And being here is huge. So thank you.”
Shelly nodded and sucked in a deep breath.
The doorbell rang, mercifully sparing them from having to speak any more, and Nick tapped his fingers on the counter. “Call me if anything comes up. I left my cell number on the refrigerator. You know, just in case you don’t have it saved anymore.”
“Okay,” she acknowledged.
Nick hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to leave things, and then decided to say nothing else. He crossed into the living room and trapped Katie in a hug where she sat on the edge of the coffee table watching another nature show. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, ’kay?”
She planted a quick kiss on his arm, distracted by the images on the screen. “Yes, Daddy.”
He kissed the top of her head, then ruffled her hair, receiving a squawk of protest, then a laugh.
Nick let her go reluctantly and went to the door, swinging it open to find Roban in a football jersey and ripped jeans that contrasted with the aesthetic of his modern pompadour and vintage bowling shoes. Rob hitched his thumb over his shoulder. “Let’s go, Nicky. Mayhem awaits!”
And with that, Nick found himself smiling again. I sleep little, read a lot. Happiest in a foreign country. Twitchy when not mentally in motion. My name is Sam, not Sammy, definitely not Samantha. I’m a pretty dark/cynical/jaded person, but I hide that darkness well behind my obsession(s) for shiny objects. I’m the macabre wrapped in irresistible bubble wrap and a glittery pink bow, I suppose.I have a never-ending-abyss-like secret love for poetry. Especially Rumi, Hafiz, and Neruda. You can predict (as well as change) my moods and my writing schedule by my playlists.Insomnia is my greatest ally and my nemesis. I like cheese and bourbon, not necessarily in that order, but I’m flexible.If you’re in any fandom, then I’m probably already in love with you. I’m not joking.I like my tv shows marathoned and I have to use internet blocking software to be productive. I have software called Producteev that I loaded onto my laptop and proceeded to fill out in detail and now I haven’t touched it in a year.I enjoy normalized chaos.  Hit me up! I love to hear from readers. xx-Sam a Rafflecopter giveaway
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Wet Heat by LM LeFERRUR

Wet Heat: The Aphrodite Chronicles Story OneErotic Paranormal Short Story
Blurb:Attorney Naida Bouche has a secret… of paranormal proportions!The secret tore her, and fellow attorney, Coop’s, marriage apart. She let her guard down and allowed herself to love. But that love—and the passion that followed—could have been the death of them…well, him.A chance encounter in judge’s chambers catapult Coop Martin’s and his ex-wife’s libidos into overdrive. Add being stuck in an elevator to the mix and desires explode. Coop wants his wife back but she’s thrown up a roadblock that he’s determined to break through.Can their undeniable chemistry be enough for Naida to reveal who—and what—she is? And could Coop still love her should the truth be revealed?
Excerpt 1The last vestiges of summerSecond Chance, Pennsylvania
Water cascaded off her nude body. Small rivulets ran over her breasts and down her slightly rounded stomach, disappearing into the surface of the lake.She was one with the water.She could, literally, become one with it.Moonlight reflected off the mirror-smooth surface, adding a soft glow to the night. Crickets serenaded her with their chirping song. A wolf howled in the distance. Nature cocooned her.She grinned and dove under. Liquid embraced her, still heated from the sun’s rays of earlier in the day. Her body became insubstantial, fragmenting into molecules of H2O. Disorientation left her bewildered, but the feeling came and went. Weightless warmth enveloped her, and the ebb and flow of the tide lulled her into blissful relaxation.The moon slid across the sky. Hours had passed. Her body became corporeal with a single thought. After regaining her human form, she cut through the water with powerful strokes and rose to the surface in a rush of bubbles.The night air chilled her damp skin, raising goose pimples along her flesh. She pushed the long fall of golden blonde tresses from her face and glanced into the deep, lush woods that ringed the lake. Soon the leaves would change to shades of gold, orange, red, and brown. In would come the autumnal chill. Her time in the waters would decrease, and then winter would set in and freeze her out.When that happened, she’d resort to the swimming pool located on the basement level of her large log home. Even with the greenery she had sprinkled about, it never fully replaced the exhilaration of the lake, the feel of fresh air against her skin, and the scent of the wilderness.She repeated the cycle, year after year. The monotony had long since worn short on her nerves.At one time, she’d had someone to break the mundane tones of her life.But she had ruined that.He hadn’t understood the need, the drive, to be one with the water.She had allowed it to build a wall between them.But how could he have understood? Hell, she’d have trouble believing the truth, if it wasn’t her life.The root of their problems had been otherworldly, as her father was human and her mother was a water nymph.The nymph side of her heritage presented two problems. First, she needed daily contact with a body of water. Like her pool in the basement. Second, she also needed a daily dose of sex. Preferably more than once a day. After all, the term “nymphomaniac” had been born of a nymph’s sex drive.No, he had never known the truth of her desires.She had pushed him away, afraid of exposing her real self.And that fear, that uncertainty, had left her alone…and needy.
Buy Links:
Amazon - http://amzn.to/1F0r9uH
Author Bio:
I'm a writer of sexy romances with a kick of heat! Though my contracted stories are paranormals, I haven't discounted writing a contemporary or two.

I live in Pennsylvania just a hair shy of the Maryland border. I live with a family I adore which includes two furry feline children and a furry canine daughter.

In my spare time, I'm more than likely watching television. I watch Bones, Blue Bloods, NCIS:New Orleans, or some sort of car show like Wheeler Dealers.

I'm a huge sports fan, football in particular. During the fall/winter, I'm watching Notre Dame or Penn State on Saturdays and the Saints or Colts on Sunday.

I've been known to have my nose buried in a book. Nora Roberts/JD Robb and Clive Cussler are favorites of mine. I know, I know...Clive Cussler isn't a romance author. The man can weave a tale of adventure like no other!
Find me at:FacebookTwitterAmazon Author Page

Gotta Love a Bad Boy Blog Hop

If I had to pick a celebrity who reminded me of Silas in Gunning for Marie, Colin would be the closest to the picture in my mind. To date, he's the most despicable character I've ever written. 
 


Blurb:
Several years after the Third World War, resources are scarce. The poor are poorer, and the middle class doesn't exist anymore. Teenagers are bought from desperate parents and orphanages, then brought to an island facility where they are to be educated, fed, and clothed as appropriate for their end purpose—soldier or breeder.

Marie Rice, is a strong young woman and has gained rank as leader of her battalion of trainees. She was promised a better life on the island, but she is finding that promises were made to be broken.

Gunner Lincoln is second-in-command of another battalion of trainees and has a conscience, unlike his commander.

In a world turned upside down, with violence growing stronger by the day, Marie and Gunnar know better than to allow anything to happen between them, no matter the attraction, but cannot keep themselves from falling into a forbidden love.

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25051459-gunning-for-marie

Please stop by our host's blog.  http://joachimbooks.blogspot.com/

The Other Half of Me by Lor Rose Book Blitz

Author: Lor RoseTitle:  The Other Half Of MeSeries Title and Number: Patryk's Branch Book OnePublisher:  Thirteen Below PressRelease Date:  September 15, 2015Genre:  ContemporaryTags:  friends to lovers, gay for you, rock star, secret, detectiveHeat Level: 4Pairing: MMLength: 50,434Purchase Links: eBook:  Thirteen Below Press  | Print:  Thirteen Below Press
Book Blurb:
As a homicide detective for the greater Houston area, Detective Barrack Invar’s job was stressful enough without his Lieutenant breathing down his neck to do more, not to mention his girlfriend, Isabella. His partner, Calhoun, was a joke. It didn’t help that over the years Barrack earned a reputation as being a bit of an asshole at work. Things for Barrack didn’t look any brighter in the wake of a murder case with absolutely no leads at all. Until he came home to a wonderful surprise. His best friend since the age of three had finally come home.
Willow only survived. His best friend since childhood, Barrack, was all that mattered to him. Willow craved any small scraps of affection Barrack was willing to give. Every look, every praise, every touch, tore Willow’s soul because he was constantly reminded of what he couldn’t have. Barrack. When Willow unexpectedly returned home his insides burned with the need for the man he loved. The need to give control…
Barrack found his feelings towards Willow slowly twisted and changed. He loved his best friend. A man. For Barrack it was a very simple thing. Willow on the other hand could not accept what Barrack was freely willing to give. Willow did the only thing he knew. He ran.
Returning home, Willow’s fears were confirmed when Barrack refused to come with him. Barrack’s promises to follow seemed long in coming. Willow was left devastated feeling abandoned and alone.
Can Barrack convince Willow of his love? Will Willow allow Barrack to love him?

Excerpt

The energy of the crowd and passion from the band was infectious. Barrack stood as close to the stage as he could. His body ached and his eyes itched with need for sleep after a long day at work then the concert, but it was worth it. Seeing him made it worth it.He headed for the VIP line forming next to where NRG Stadium kept their performance stage when not in use. Other bodies ran into him, one group nearly running him over with their purple VIP passes swinging from their necks. Barrack shook his head. Purple badges like theirs only allowed them into VIP after-show signings, nothing special. Black was the next level up, with after-show backstage access and a gift signed from all the band members for Christmas. White, like his, allowed backstage access before and after shows, as well as the yearly gifts at Christmas and the holder's birthday, plus special one-on-one time with the band at a scheduled party near Halloween.The organizers broke up the white badges into groups of seven per party to allow more one-on-one time. Hence, only twenty-one people had a white VIP badge. If a white badge didn't come to a white party more than twice in a row, they automatically lost their white VIP status since other people would use it to its full advantage, like him."Hey Barrack!"He turned to see Bridge, the band's head of security, waving him over, then shouldered his way through the crowd, slowly making his way to the front of the line."Annoying, isn't it?" Bridge's voice had a slight rasp to it. He was a tall broad man with a stern-looking face and jaw. His hair looked swept back by the wind.The two clasped hands and Bridge pulled him into a one-armed hug, each patting the other heavily on the back. “If I had to deal with this all the time, then shit yeah. Doesn’t it get annoying?” Barrack asked and gave Bridge one more hearty pat on the arm before releasing him.Bridge shrugged. “Not really, no. How you’ve been?”Barrack smiled at his old friend.  They had gotten close once a long time ago when they’d been undercover. When everything was all said and done with that case, the men had lost contact, only to be reacquainted a few years later when Emotio hit the scene.He shrugged. "Same old, same old."Bridge shook his head. "Come on." He opened the door to allow them inside. Barrack stepped into a much quieter but still busy space. Stage personnel hustled about doing whatever it was that they did. One was carrying a large stuffed rhinoceros—he didn't want to know."Barrack." Rex Louis Clark, the drummer waved and Barrack waved back. The man stood shirtless with raven black hair that shined blue in the light. A white stripe accented the side of his head. The tabloids had nicknamed him 'Skunk', and for good reason. He'd been known to have a bad temper. He was talking to Luxe, the band's stylist. Why, he didn't know since the man seemed to be allergic to shirts."Everyone else is in back," Bridge said. "The public signing will start in half an hour." Bridge patted him on the back and walked off, leading the way."That's it?" Half an hour seemed like a short break after such a performance.Bridge shrugged. "Aksel and Patryk wanted to be done early.""Wonder why," he mused aloud while they turned a corner.Bridge sighed, but it sounded more like a disbelieving tsk. He opened another door and walked inside with Barrack following behind."You know you're the only fan we actually like enough to hang out with," Bishop, the lead guitarist, said from the wet bar. His silk black pirate shirt caught the light, highlighting his exposed chest. His shoulder-length bleached hair sported pink highlights at the tips, which faded up the length."That one isn't so bad," Aksel, the bass player, said as he plopped on the couch. His purple Mohawk didn't even move.Titus, the piano or keyboard player, threw wadded paper at Aksel, which he caught. "Do ya mean Greg?" Titus's slight Irish accent came through. His all white hair almost glowed in the fluorescent lighting."I hate him," Bishop said as he took a long drink."That's because—" Patryk Sama'el, the lead singer, walked in from another door on the opposite side of the room. "—he drinks just as much alcohol as you." His hair was black, the sides of his head shaved into a military buzz, and the center was long, thick, and styled effortlessly to the side. A chunk of white highlighted his bangs. Diamond stud earrings decorated his ears. He had changed from his earlier outfit into skinny jeans and a loose rock and roll T-shirt. "And even we cannot afford that." His comment won a round of chuckles and the finger from Bishop.The singer shook his head and plopped on the couch next to Aksel. Heavy black makeup framed his eyes, as did an elegant gray and black masquerade mask. This air of secrecy heightened Emotio's fame. No one had seen Patryk's face, not even Emotio's other members. Rumors soared over Patryk's looks, but the man in the center of it all, Patryk, neither confirmed nor denied anything. Patryk Sama'el symbolized mystery, and mysteries were intriguing."Hey Barrack," Patryk said with a tiny wave, looking relaxed but tired."Hey, guys." Barrack entered the room while Bridge said his goodbyes. "You want a water?" Barrack asked Patryk who nodded. Barrack had to practically shove Bishop out of the way to get to the wet bar.He retrieved two waters, then handed one to Patryk while he sat between Aksel and Patryk. "Where's Dominik?" Another scan of the room confirmed the electric violinist wasn't there.Titus tossed him the wad of paper, and he tossed it back. "Good question.""Bathroom," Patryk supplied with a sigh.Barrack looked him over. Patryk seemed to have melted farther into the couch since he sat down, "Okay?"Patryk nodded. "Just tired.""If I danced like you in them damn high heels, I'd be tired too." Bishop twirled and went back to the bar for another drink.Before anyone could answer, Dominik walked in from the same door Patryk had. He stopped short when he saw Barrack. "Hey." On stage, Dominik was a force worthy of the band's fame, but in that moment, he seemed tiny and timid, as if he were two different people.His emerald-green hair had white accents. Dominik's style was the most formal. A well-tailored suit showed off his form. The jacket was opened, exposing a white button-up shirt and loosened black silk necktie."You okay?" Barrack asked while getting up. "Here, sit. You look tired."Dominik smiled, but it seemed sad to Barrack. "I'm fine.""Please, sit." He motioned to the spot he’d given up. Dominik meekly nodded and slowly made his way to the sofa. To Barrack, he seemed to move a little too gingerly. "Thanks," Dominik said as he passed. Barrack's gaze zeroed in on him pressing his arm to his side. A small bruise visible on Dominik's knuckles made Barrack frown."Son of a bitch." Rex burst into the room and chucked something against the wall, but Barrack didn't see what it was. Barrack was too focused on Dominik's barely there flinch and subsequent wince.He covered it up well. "Lose a bet?" Dominik's response was more subdued than usual as he sat.Rex growled as he strode across the room to the other door. "Shut up," he snapped. "I'm taking a shower." The poor door almost groaned under Rex's grip as he wrenched it open, and the reverberating slam when he left sent a crack throughout the room."Well he's a ray of sunshine, isn't he?" Bishop listed to the side with a giggle.Patryk sighed, but Barrack could tell he was watching Dominik, too. "Stop drinking. We still have the signing to do."Bishop flipped him off again. "You gonna stop me?""And mess up this manicure?" Patryk waved black fingernails at him. "I don't think so. Barrack can subdue your drunk ass."Bishop looked at him with bleary eyes. He must've been drinking on stage. "Wouldn't mind 'hat at all.""Barrack is off limits. He's got that Willow fellow," Titus said while still tossing the wad of paper around.Barrack shook his head. "We're not together."Patryk chuckled. "The way you talk about him sure makes it seem you are."Barrack moved and sat on the arm of the couch closest to Patryk. "Well, he does have a nice ass."Bishop spit out his drink. "You're gay!""No." Barrack took Patryk's water and opened it, then gave it back. "Drink that," he said under his breath, then turned his attention back to Bishop. "But I can appreciate a nice ass when I see one.""We have got to meet this Willow," Titus said. "He's all ya talk about."Barrack shrugged. "He's busy."Aksel heaved himself up. "The fucker is always busy," he said while retrieving his own water."Be nice," Patryk said.Aksel made a jacking off motion. "Suck me."Barrack laughed, but Patryk punched his thigh. "What?" He asked then took a drink of water."Don't encourage him," Patryk quipped, then took a swig of water.A knock on the door stole everyone's attention. Bridge stuck his head in. "Signing starts in 5. Where's Skunk?"Bishop giggled. "Ima tell you said 'hat.""That's great, where is he?"Barrack nodded to the other door. "Showering, should be about done."Bridge walked into the room and to the other door. "You guys get out there and I'll get him.""Better you than me," Patryk said as he got up.The rest of the band followed with their own brand of sarcasm except for Dominik. He sat on the sofa and looked a little pale. "You okay?" Barrack asked again."Yeah. Help me up." Dominik offered his hand, and Barrack pulled him up. The man seemed too light even for his smaller physique.Barrack watched Dominik walk. He had a slight hitch to his step. "If you ever need anything, I can help you."Dominik stopped and turned. The gaze that met Barrack's could only be described as broken. "You're a really good friend." With that, Dominik strode off with Barrack following. They arrived at the signing and Dominik took his place between Aksel and Rex.Bridge came up behind him. "Everything all right?"He stepped back so he and Bridge were behind the band but out of earshot. "You know what I think.""Yeah" was all Bridge said, and the two lapsed into silence.

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Lor is a snarky, over the top genderfluid polyamorous demipansexual with dark hair and pink highlights. Although, sometimes the color varies. She is almost constantly fighting with her muse, Animus, or referring the fights between Animus and Epicene, her other muse. Lor started reading very questionable M/M fanfiction at a very young age in the closet. Literally. Though that didn’t stop her from getting caught once or twice. This early love of things M/M sparked 

her writing career. Without a doubt, her Christian high school English teacher Mrs. B didn’t expect Lor to fall into the M/M genre. Mrs. B did know Lor would be a writer someday because when the class had a minimum, Lor had a maximum. It truly was unfair.Besides writing, Lor may also be found with one of her two horses, the Chihuahua or her cat. Any un-caught typos are courtesy of the cat, who shoves Lor’s things out of the way when it’s her time for cuddles or playtime… Which is about every ten minutes.




Email: Lori@IndiGoMarketingDesign.comWilliam@IndiGoMarketingDesign.comWebsite: indigomarketingdesign.comFacebook: IndiGo Marketing & DesignTwitter: @GoIndiMarketing

Blog Tour – Broken Oaths by V.L. Moon and J.T. Cheyanne

Title: Broken OathsAuthors: V.L. Moon and J.T. CheyanneLength: NovelGenre: Gay romance, adventure, M/M romance, contemporary

SynopsisBetrayed by his peers and slandered as a traitor, Commander Thierry Donovan has nothing left. Locked away and targeted by the very men responsible for his incarceration, Thierry defies the odds and fights for the fundamental right to survive the hell-hole of his imprisonment. With no one to trust, Thierry finds solace in the last place he imagines...
The church is Ryan Flynn's sanctuary. He craves the solitude and peace he finds in the hallowed halls. His oath to serve God is a calling Ryan has hidden behind all of his adult life; until his past catches up with him in the form of his foster brother, Special Agent Orrin Hunt...
Submerging himself within a world of danger, violence and corruption is the only way Orrin can cope with life. Rejected and tormented by the bitter remorse of unrequited love, Orrin is oblivious to the beauty of what life can offer him. If he'd only open his eyes, and maybe his heart....
Jaydan Callahan's life is a wreck. Gangs, drugs and violence are a part of his normal day to day routine. For one so young, he's seen it, been there, done it and gotten more than enough tee shirts as proof. Capable of smelling a cop from a mile away, it comes as no surprise to Jay when the guy he has the hots for is actually working undercover to bring down the town's notoriously dangerous king pin.
Four men, four lives, each one of them stained by lies, corruption and doubt. Can love show them the path to redemption, or will broken oaths, fear and grief make the crosses they bear too heavy a mantle to carry.
Love is Love


Excerpt“We have to go. Santiago double crossed us. It’s not safe to leave you here, and I sure as shit ain't leaving you behind. I’m sorry about Sylvie, I loved her. You know I did, but I need you to hang on, just a little longer. Shit's going to get real pretty quick, and I need you alert to what’s going on around you, ok?” Orrin asked as he held Jay against his chest.“I’m on it, pops,” Jay whispered. The fact he was still managing to rib Orrin over his age regardless of the fact he’d just lost his mother said a lot. Jay was so much stronger than Orrin gave him credit for; because he’d had to be. Most of his life had been spent robbing Peter to pay Paul, doing whatever it took to make sure he and Sylvie survived and kept a roof over their heads. Regardless of the fact most of it was gained illegally, Orrin admired the sheer determination in Jay. The kid never buckled, never walked away from the fight or took the easy way out. He never ran from what he wanted. Thank God. Cocking a brow, Orrin smirked.“Always there with the smart mouth aren't ya, boy? Best quit that shit, or I’ll be popping something of yours. Literally,” Orrin quipped and squeezed the kid against him one last time when confronted with a soft pained smile and glassy tear filled eyes. He just couldn't stop the involuntary response. It took a matter of seconds, three to be exact before Jay composed himself enough to pull the gun from the back of his pants and check the safety was on.“Ready when you are, old man. And just for the record, it’ll be me doing the popping.” Jay winked, pulled on Orrin’s leather jacket and grabbed the helmet Orrin offered him.“We’ll take one of the other bikes. They’re quicker, easier to maneuver if the traffic gets bad or we need to make a quick escape. Duchney, I want you with me. The Commander took your car, so someone get a trace on it if you haven’t already and patch it through to me ASAP.” Pushing Jay ahead of him Orrin strode for the door.“Get this place locked down, check everything for bugs and tracking devices and then follow the coordinates. I’ll meet you en route. The Commander no doubt has a plan and thinks he can go play at being the hero. We've put too much into this case, lost too much only to have everything screwed up by Captain fucking America. I don’t care how good he is.”

GiveawayPrize: 3 ebook copies of Broken Oaths


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Buy Links
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B011JU44H4Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B011JU44H4Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/560535B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/broken-oaths-jt-cheyanne/1122443949?ean=9781515105107 


About the authorsLaz and Lachi Publications is the combined writing team of J.T. Cheyanne and V.L. Moon. The two met in 2010, fell hard and fast for each other and married in April 2014. They write both independently and together in the gay erotica and gay paranormal genres. They also have a couple of contemporary romance novels under their belt.Social media linksOur joint page https://www.facebook.com/LazLachibooks  Website http://www.lazandlachi.com/   JT Cheyanne Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jtcheyannest... Twitter: https://twitter.com/JTCheyanne   VL Moon Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/VenusMoonsto... Twitter: https://twitter.com/VenusMoon5 

Under The Gun Blog Tour

Blurb:
Pre DADT Repeal...
Jaded by his lover leaving him for a woman, Camdyn Hardy is looking for love and partnership. When he goes to the local shooting range, he only wants to let off a little steam, but meeting Malik Day, a discharged army serviceman is a welcome surprise.
Malik’s issues go farther than just a lack of love. Discharged for defending a fellow gay soldier got him kicked out of the Army and back at home with his bible thumping parents. When Malik meets Camdyn, the sparks are there, but both of them are too afraid to make their desires known to each other.
After several conversations and dates, Camdyn and Malik are hot for one another and ready to take the next step. When they do, they discover they have a lot more in common than just a need for a committed relationship.
  Excerpt PG  
Some days are better than others and most could be a helluva lot better, but when you get into a fight with your significant other, of the moment, what else can be done? I wished we could’ve gotten past it, but there wasn’t any way to avoid it.  My boyfriend and I were working on a case together when we almost slipped up because of our… ‘encounter’… on the job. At my insistence, too, and this made it even worse. Our client wasn’t amused when he literally caught us with our pants down; he almost fired us on the spot. Still, we managed to finish. The job, that is.  My man tried to tell me to wait until we were safe and out of sight, but my horniness wouldn’t allow me to. I shouldn’t have listened to my dick, but some days he thinks he’s the brains of this outfit.After that, Tay started having second thoughts about our relationship. He thought we’d lost focus by working together, and we should split up. I tried pleading with him.  I told him it wasn’t a good reason. “No, no, no, no, no,” I insisted, vigorously shaking my head. But the more I protested, the more he vehemently disagreed about going on with this work/play scenario. Disagreed about us.No matter how much I begged… no matter how much or how loudly I promised I’d be more of a good boy, he’d have none of it.  He decided to move on, and he did, leaving every tie to Camdyn & Associates behind. I knew he still loved me, but I’d heard from mutual friends Tay was on the fence again, spending a lot of time with some female.  Sheesh. I’d been preparing myself for my down-low lover to take a hike, so when he walked out that door today, it really wasn’t much of a surprise. That taught me a lesson—don’t deal with anyone who’s unsure about his sexuality ever again. I needed someone totally real and gay, like me.  One hundred percent queer.As I drove away from my office, the anger built inside of me. Ready to burn rubber, I gripped the steering wheel tightly and made the sharp turn at the corner, intending to enter the freeway. The grooves from the leather pierced my skin and my knuckles turned white from the pressure. Even though my place was only fifteen minutes away, I felt the need to do damage, more like kick the shit out of Tay. Unfortunately, the gas pedal was my only fucking option.
Sales LinksAmazon - http://www.amazon.com/Under-The-Gun-Hardy-Book-ebook/dp/B012EJ3Q1E/ref=pd_rhf_gw_p_img_4?ie=UTF8&refRID=19P2TYCVQHWM1WCNXKMJB&N http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/under-the-gun-bl-morticia/1122379845?ean=2940150795686
Bio BLMorticia is currently a published writer who entertains her readers with hot and smexy sex, humor, and lots of swear words. She attempts to incorporate metal music or the military in most of her works. Nothin’ sexier than metalheads or military servicemen and women! For more info, please visit, Erotica With Snark LinksThe Literary Triad -  http://www.thelitriad.com/#! BLMorticia – http://blmorticia.wordpress.com Pinterest -   http://www.pinterest.com/authorslira/Instagram - http://instagram.com/sharitalira/Ello - https://ello.co/srlmort71Twitter - http://twitter.com/#!/rawiyamikemblFacebook - http://www.facebook.com/TheLiteraryTriadGoodreads - BLMorticia - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4436911.B_L_MorticiaSignup for Newsletter