Ellie Potts's Blog, page 37
May 12, 2015
Bizarro Clusterfuck Carlton Mellick III
A bunch of douchebag frat boys get trapped in a cave with subterranean cannibal mutants and try to survive not by using their wits but by following the bro code . . . From master of bizarro fiction Carlton Mellick III, author of the international cult hits “Satan Burger” and “Adolf in Wonderland,” comes a violent and hilarious B movie in book form. Set in the same woods as Mellick’s splatterpunk satire “Apeshit,” Clusterfuck follows Trent Chesterton, alpha bro, who has come up with what he thinks is a flawless plan to get laid. He invites three hot chicks and his three best bros on a weekend of extreme cave diving in a remote area known as Turtle Mountain, hoping to impress the ladies with his expert caving skills.
But things don’t quite go as Trent planned. For starters, only one of the three chicks turns out to be remotely hot and she has no interest in him for some inexplicable reason. Then he ends up looking like a total dumbass when everyone learns he’s never actually gone caving in his entire life. And to top it all off, he’s the one to get blamed once they find themselves lost and trapped deep underground with no way to turn back and no possible chance of rescue. What’s a bro to do? Sure he could win some points if he actually tried to save the ladies from the family of unkillable subterranean cannibal mutants hunting them for their flesh, but fuck that. No slam piece is worth that amount of effort. He’d much rather just use them as bait so that he can save himself.
It’s Tucker Max versus “The Descent” in this gore-filled comedy for the camp horror fan.
My Review:
Another fun romp. I kept waiting to see what everyone’s secret was, because Apeshit had some twisted characters, I was not disappointed. I don’t want to give to much away, but it is a fun read. maybe something you want to read lightly if your claustrophobic, douch-aphobic, or not into spelunking. I did like Apeshit better, but this one had more. One to add to your tbr list not only because it is an EXTREME read, but if you’re a B horror junky you’ll enjoy.
May 11, 2015
Bizarro Apeshit Carlton Mellick III
Friday the 13th meets Visitor Q. Apeshit is Mellicks love letter to the great and terrible B-horror movie genre. Six trendy teenagers (three cheerleaders and three football players) go to an isolated cabin in the mountains for a weekend of drinking, partying, and crazy sex, only to find themselves in the middle of a life and death struggle against a horribly mutated psychotic freak that just wont stay dead. Mellick parodies this horror clich and twists it into something deeper and stranger. It is the literary equivalent of a grindhouse film. It is a splatterpunks wet dream. It is perhaps one of the most fucked up books ever written. If you are a fan of Takashi Miike, Evil Dead, or Eurotrash horror then you must read this book.
My Review:
After I finished this book I felt like I needed psychologist and a cigarette, and I don’t smoke lol. Not only was it that crazy I still want to read more.
May 10, 2015
Snippet Sunday Flights of Delusion
The Job
May you walk through the raining pools of blood and dance on the guts of your victims.
The words floated to the top of her head. She had been given a job, a good job, a job she knew she could really do. A job she had been dreaming of since she could remember. Remember since when? Lucifer had explained her duties, and she planned on doing her very best. To show not only Lucifer, but his other head-honchos, that he had chosen well.
Raining pools of blood.
She shivered as his words caressed her spine, building the anticipation. She smiled as she thought of all the possibilities. She had opted to stay here in Hell. Oh, she could have done this on the top-side, but her life there had been full of dull, painful memories and feelings. All so close to the surface, but yet her mind could not grasp them. Her hand ran over the small scar on her forehead.
She entered the room and looked at all the frightened souls; her toys, her victims, her vices. She would do as she pleased with them. They were there to be tortured, to fulfill their heavy, dirty souls. Would the doctors who had touched her come soon? Would the guards who had held her down come too? She remembered some of them, but where had she been? Would Lucifer let her have them? She would have to ask.
Her tight black corset made her already snow white skin glow under the florescent lights. Her thick, long hair fell around her shoulders in a black cloak. She saw that her appearance made the souls quiver in fear. She could almost taste the heavy copper on her tongue, anticipating what would soon happen.
But what scared them was her eyes. Oh sure, she had a cute little nose and perfect, pink, pouty lips. It was the eyes. The doctors had talked about them; the eyes of a psychopath.
Her eyes seemed to scare everyone around her, including some of her new colleagues. They hid it, but she could sense their nervousness. Like her parents, until they had just stopped visiting her. The nurses felt it too, although they pitied her. What had she done to deserve what had happened to her? The thought made her stop briefly, head tilted, as she tried to remember something, a fleeting memory. Shaking her head, she thought of Lucifer; he did not fear her dark brown orbs when she looked at him with child-like curiosity.
There she had stood in front of the very man her parents had said would meet her with pain and torture. But he had accepted her with a hug and a job. There was no fright, nervousness, or pity in him. He knew what she wanted deep down, and the job had fit.
She walked along the wall holding her instruments. Her toys. They looked sharp, deadly, and damn fun. Her hand ran lightly over knives of all different shapes and sizes. Her favorites were the serrated blades. Their victims felt the bite. Again, that memory that was so close came back like a small nagging pain. She tried to grab at it, but it escaped through her hands like liquid, like blood.
She grabbed the cat o’ nine tails. Nine strong cords with her own twist at the ends. Small razor blades were added to the tips. Why torture them with whipping? She wanted to pass the foreplay and get straight to the blood.
She turned to her scared victims, her wrist already snapping the cat o’ nines, hitting their marks. The souls cried out and screamed for mercy. The blood flowed from the many small cuts. She moved and circled, humming a favorite childhood song, as her wrist snapped over and over. And the screams spiraled louder, echoing on themselves. They could not pass out, so they would stay awake for everything she threw at them.
She went to pick another torture device from the wall. Something bigger, something that would get the blood flying. Homemade devices she had no name for, but they worked. She turned to the red eyed, snotty, sniffling souls. Fear and pleading in their eyes. Her body heated with something close to lust. She released her new toy on them. The blood flew, coating her like new, velvety, wet skin. She licked her lips, rolling the thick copper taste on her tongue.
She sang and twisted. The blood ran, splattering the walls and coating the ground. But still the souls screamed; there was no escape for them. No unconsciousness for them. Her blood raged with glee, and that nagging thought finally came close enough to grasp. She stopped as the memories flooded her.
Her first kill. The feeling of life leaving the small animal, its lifeless eyes staring at at her. How it had made her feel. And then the evil, older boy who had tried to make her take off her dress, and when that didn’t work, he tried to rip it off of her body. How it had felt to shove the garden shears into his stomach. How his small whimpers of pain thrilled her as she straddled his body and used the blades to make the cut big enough to place her hands inside. How she had explored the inside of his warm body, the bloody tissue and organs slippery to the touch. She had discovered a worm-like thing and started to pull out the thick cord. Later she would discover it had been his intestines.
They had locked her up. She had been punished, she had been beaten, she had been shocked, and finally, she had been lobotomized. She had lived a horrible life of nothingness, stuck inside her head, while the world went on around her. She was nothing but a drooling, feeble body. She lost her will to live, and when her life light went out, she was glad for the darkness. Suddenly she awoke, and she had found herself now able to function, sitting in the reception room in Hell. The secretary, bitch she was, actually offered her a magazine to read. The man next to her, shocked, said the cold-hearted bitch offered him nothing, just an evil look.
That little memory had done nothing for her and nothing to change her feelings about the task at hand. Instead, it fueled a spark of love for the job and anticipation because her religious-go-happy parents would soon be there to enjoy the pain she would inflict. She would torture them until they confessed to their own evil. She would torture all who had done wrong to her. Maybe Lucifer could find the boy who had tried to rip her dress off. Maybe she could gut him again. Oh, yes, she would dance on the guts of her victims.
Get it now: http://www.amazon.com/Flights-Delusion-Ellie-Potts-ebook/dp/B00DJLYUR6
May 5, 2015
Starting something a little new.
I rarely post reviews up. And realize I should do more. So each month I’m going to choose a theme that I will be reading. I will call out for recommendations of course. Who better to ask then my fellow book readers. This month’s theme is going to be Bizzaro. What is that?
WHAT IS BIZARRO?
1. Bizarro, simply put, is the genre of the weird.
2. Bizarro is literature’s equivalent to the cult section at the video store.
3. Like cult movies, Bizarro is sometimes surreal, sometimes avant-garde, sometimes goofy, sometimes bloody, sometimes borderline pornographic, and almost always completely out there.
4. Bizarro strives not only to be strange, but fascinating, thought-provoking, and, above all, fun to read.
5. Bizarro often contains a certain cartoon logic that, when applied to the real world, creates an unstable universe where the bizarre becomes the norm and absurdities are made flesh.
6. Bizarro was created by a group of small press publishers in response to the increasing demand for (good) weird fiction and the increasing number of authors who specialize in it.
7. Bizarro is like:
Franz Kafka meets John Waters
Dr. Suess of the post-apocalypse
Takashi Miike meets William S. Burroughs
Alice in Wonderland for adults
Japanese animation directed by David Lynch
This was taken from author Carlton Mellick III
I am going to share some old reviews as well what I’m reading this month. Stay tuned.
May 2, 2015
Desires’ Guardian by Tempeste O’Riley Blog Tour
Title: Desires’ Guardian
Author: Tempeste O’Riley
Series: Desires Entwined, #2
Genre: M/M Erotic Romance, with lite BDSM/Kink
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Release Date: June 6 2014
Edition/Formats Available In: eBook, Print
Blurb/Synopsis:
Most people see Chase Manning as the party-boy twink he seems on the surface. Only James, Chase’s BFF, knows the depth of his loyalty and the extent of the wounds Chase carries inside. When Chase meets Rhys Sayer things don’t go well, but he can’t shake his attraction to the huge, sexy man.
Rhys is a man of contradictions and fear—a strange combination for a PI and bodyguard. He’s in a bad place emotionally when he sets eyes on Chase for the first time. When Chase puts the moves on him, Rhys insults him, thwarting any possibility of a relationship. Rhys doesn’t see himself as a complicated man, but he dreads the very kind of connection he desires.
Just as they’re trying to overcome their uncertainties, Chase is put in harm’s way. Luckily Rhys and their friends have all the right talents to help Rhys save the man of his dreams.
Book Links
♥ ARe
♥ Amazon
Excerpt
PLEASE, GOD, make it stop.
The loud ringing next to his head had Chase debating between smashing the phone and burying his head until the demonic thing went quiet on its own. When the ringing stopped but immediately started up again, he gave up on Option B.
Why?
Even mentally whining made his head hurt worse. Chase lay sprawled across his bed on top of the covers. The only part of him not exposed was his head; he’d burrowed under a pillow when the sunshine pushed its way into his bedroom. Sitting up without moving the pillow from over his head, Chase slowly scooped up his cell. “’Lo,” he croaked.
“Chase?”
“Um, yeah. Who is—wait, James?” Chase’s thoughts refused to clear as he fought his way past the alcohol struggling to drag him back into unconsciousness. The taste of stale beer and liquor was almost enough to make him puke. He vaguely wondered where his trash can was and whether he could get there if needed.
“You forgot, didn’t you?” The loud chuckle that followed the question did not help with his headache. However, with everything that had happened recently—the stalking and threats against his best friend— he would have gladly suffered in silence to make James happy.
A soft moan escaped his dry lips. He tried to wet them with his tongue, but it felt dry and thick. “Sorry, Jamie. What did I forget?”
“You went out to the club again, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” he whimpered. “Dale and Simon wanted to go out for some fun. But I know you’re not calling to see if I went home with anyone. So again I ask, why am I awake?”
“My art show tonight.”
He was certain he could hear a smirk in James’s voice. “It’s”— Chase paused to check his clock—“not even noon yet, Jamie.” He loved his best friend dearly, but why did he have to be so damned perky first thing in the morning?
“Lunch. Remember?”
Lunch? Eating? He so didn’t want to think about food right then.
“Right. Let me get up and get dressed. I’ll swing by your place soon.”
“Go ahead and meet me at the restaurant, please. We have reservations at Zarletti’s downtown. I’m out and about right now. Okay?”
“Uh, sure, hun.” After a few more pleasantries, he hung up and slowly dragged his groggy self out of bed, stopping to down a couple of Tylenol and a full bottle of water before taking his shower.
Chase took his time getting dressed, and not simply because his head still hurt, the dull ache grating but livable. He never went out without dressing for the occasion, though it was nothing compared to how he would look later that night when he accompanied his best friend to his first gallery show. It would be James’s debut as the featured artist.
God, means I’ll have to deal with Rhys too. He knew Rhys wouldn’t miss the show. He rolled his eyes for thinking about the damn man. Rhys was sex on legs, but his attitude was crap! Still, dressing to kill might not be a bad idea….
Chase finished buttoning the deep green silk shirt over his slight frame as he walked to the fridge in his small but well-appointed kitchen. Grabbing a bottle of Mountain Dew, he took a gulp before he put the cap back on, grabbed his backpack, and headed out the front door. He was usually a cappuccino kind of guy, but sometimes one needed an extra kick of sugar and caffeine, fast.
Yawning, Chase got into his car and started over to James’s before he remembered they were meeting at the restaurant instead. At some point, he knew he would have to change his thinking and acknowledge that the little cottage was James and Seth’s now, especially since they were not only living together but would be married in just over a month.
Chase turned the corner to pull up in front of Zarletti’s. A moment later, a motorcycle passed him. He paused a moment to take in the eye candy: the black and chrome Harley Softail and the tall, wide-shouldered man atop it. When he parked, he realized to whom the bike belonged and groaned, cursing his luck and his reaction.
There Rhys stood, peering at him from beside the motorcycle. Too bad the bike and those looks belong to such an ass hat. Since the man was staring at him so blatantly, Chase decided to return the favor. He took a moment to let his gaze wander from the man’s deep auburn hair and perpetual five o’clock shadow to his delicious athletic build, wide shoulders, and the defined pecs his black T-shirt served to accentuate, not hide, even with the leather coat half covering him. Rhys was huge at close to six and a half feet. He continued his perusal down Rhys to his thick, muscled legs and his chunky black leather boots. Chase allowed himself a soft sigh. He took just as long on the return trip, making a true production of it. When his gaze finally landed on Rhys’s deep green eyes again, he smirked, turned, and made sure to put a little extra swish into his hips as he sauntered up the sidewalk to the front doors.
He reached to open one but paused when he heard the crunching of boots on the path behind him. He groaned to himself quietly and then stepped inside, hoping Rhys was there to meet someone else, not James. Please let it not be us! Chase had managed to avoid Rhys for the last few months, ever since James’s first gallery show. It was a lot harder to stay away from him than he had expected. He hated how Rhys had befriended James, making avoiding him all the more complicated.
“Good afternoon, welcome to Zarletti’s. Table for two?” the brighteyed hostess asked as Chase approached her stand.
“No. I’m meeting someone. James Bryant? He should be here
already.”
“Very good, sir. And you?” the hostess asked, gazing past Chase to Rhys.
“The same, thank you.” Rhys’s deep, rumbling voice sent a jolt through his system, as always.
Author Information
Tempeste O’Riley is an out and proud pansexual gender fluid whose best friend growing up had the courage to do what she couldn’t–defy the hate and come out. He has been her hero ever since.
Tempe is a hopeless romantic that loves strong relationships and happily-ever-afters. Though new to writing M/M, she has done many things in her life, though writing has always drawn her back–no matter what else life has thrown her way. She counts her friends, family, and Muse as her greatest blessings in life. She lives in Wisconsin with her children, reading, writing, and enjoying life.
Tempe is also a proud PAN member of Romance Writers of America®, Rainbow Romance Writers, and the WisRWA. Learn more about Tempeste and her writing at http://tempesteoriley.com.
Author Links
♥ Blog
♥ DSP {Dreamspinner Press}
♥ G+
♥ Tumblr
♥ Website
Other Works by Tempeste O’Riley
Desires Entwined Series
Designs of Desire (Amazon)
Simple Desires (in Grand Adventures Anthology)
Bound by Desire (Free Read at ARe)
Desires’ Guardian (Amazon)
Temptations of Desire (Amazon)
Truth in Lace (Amazon)
Standalones
Caged Sanctuary (Amazon)
Anthologies
Grand Adventures (Dreamspinner Press)
Hope & Love Anthology (Amazon)
April 28, 2015
The Price by Andrew Grey Blog Tour #giveaway
Title: The Price
Author: Andrew Grey
Series: NA
Genre: M/M Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Release Date: April 17 2015
Edition/Formats Available In: eBook & Print
Blurb/Synopsis:
Hunter Wolfe is a highly paid Las Vegas escort with a face and body that have men salivating and paying a great deal for him to fulfill their fantasies. He keeps his own keeps and doesn’t share, not that they matter.
Grant is an elementary school teacher and works miracles with his summer school students. He discovered his gift while in high school, tutoring Hunter, a fellow student. They meet again when Hunter rescues Grant in a club. Grant doesn’t know Hunter is an escort or that they share similarly painful pasts involving family members’ substance abuse.
After the meeting, Hunter invites Grant to one of the finest restaurants in Las Vegas. Hunter is charming, sexy, and gracious, and Grant is intrigued. With more in common than they realized, the two men decide to give a relationship a try. At first, Grant believes he can deal with Hunter’s profession and accepts that Hunter will be faithful with his heart if not his body. Both men find their feeling run deeper than either imagined. For Grant, it’s harder than he thought to accept Hunter’s occupation, and Hunter’s feelings for Grant now make work nearly impossible. But Hunter’s choice of profession comes with a price, which could involve Grant’s job and their hearts—a price that may be too high for either of them to pay.
Book Links
Amz: http://www.amazon.com/Price-Andrew-Grey-ebook/dp/B00VX84LK8/
ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-theprice-1765600-149.html
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-price-andrew-grey/1121715395?ean=2940151407519
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25192106-the-price?ac=1
RAFFLECOPTER LINK
http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/54e9c425156/?
Excerpts
“You won’t believe it,” Ember said as he took the last empty seat at the table. He gulped from the drink Candy had just placed it in front of him. “And I thought I’d seen everything.”
Hunter ignored the others, who were, for the most part, succeeding in keeping straight faces. “Okay.”
“I followed the usual routine and texted Mark that I had arrived.” It was one of their safety measures: they always made sure someone else knew when they were with a client and when they were done. It was one of the hard and fast rules. There weren’t many, other than keep the client happy and yourself looking your best, but that one was absolute. Hunter nodded, hoping Ember would continue. “I knocked on the door and it opened to a guy wearing a lamb suit.”
“You mean, like, wool?” Hunter asked.
Ember’s normally radiant copper complexion paled visibly. “More like ‘baa’.”
“The guy was dressed as a sheep?” Hunter asked.
“It’s called a furry. Anyway, the guy undressed me, and I figured the costume would come off once we… once things got serious, if they ever did, but nope.”
Mark cackled from across the table. “Did you fuck the sheep?”
Hunter stared openmouthed as Ember lowered his head to the table. “We do what the clients asks, right?”
“You fucked the sheep?” Mark asked again, with way too much glee.
Ember raised his head and nodded. “I fucked the sheep.” He put his head back down, and they lost it, Hunter included. His first question, once he could catch his breath, was whether Mark had found someone into that or if the gig had simply fallen into his lap, so to speak, and he’d offered up Ember as the sheep fucker of the group.
“The worst part was that the guy made sheep noises and bleated the entire time and never said a damn word,” Ember said.
“But you got it up, right?” Cameron asked, and Ember nodded again. “You are one sick fuck.” They all started laughing again as Ember downed his drink.
“I need to forget,” Ember said.
“I bet you do. So remember that the next time you promise someone a Mark sandwich.” Mark grinned devilishly, and Ember glared at him. “If you don’t, then next time it could be a cat, then you’d be the only pussy fucker in the group.”
“You son of a bitch!” Ember swore.
Mark lifted his drink to him with a wry smile. “To getting even.”
Author Information
Andrew grew up in western Michigan with a father who loved to tell stories and a mother who loved to read them. Since then he has lived throughout the country and traveled throughout the world. He has a master’s degree from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and works in information systems for a large corporation.
Andrew’s hobbies include collecting antiques, gardening, and leaving his dirty dishes anywhere but in the sink (particularly when writing) He considers himself blessed with an accepting family, fantastic friends, and the world’s most supportive and loving partner. Andrew currently lives in beautiful, historic Carlisle, Pennsylvania.
Author Links
Facebook Group All the Way with Andrew Grey
April 21, 2015
Designs of Desire by Tempeste O’Riley Blog Tour
Title: Designs of Desire
Author: Tempeste O’Riley
Series: Desires Entwined, #1
Genre: M/M Erotic Romance, with lite BDSM/Kink
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Release Date: July 2013
Edition/Formats Available In: Audio, eBook, Print
Blurb/Synopsis:
Artist James Bryant has forearm crutches in every color from rainbow for fun to sleek black for business. He even has a pair with more paint splatters than metal. After his family’s rejection and abuse from a man he thought loved him, James only just gets through the day by painting. He lives in constant fear that he’s not worthy of anything, let alone love.
As CEO of his company, Carrington Enterprises, Seth Burns is a take-charge kind of guy, and he is instantly smitten by the artist helping with his newest project. When he witnesses James suffer a panic attack, a protective instinct he never knew he had kicks in. He truly believes nothing is unobtainable—including James—if he’s willing to put in the time and effort.
James is shy and confused by Seth’s interest in him as a person. With Seth’s support, can he work through his fears to finally find the true love he deserves, or will someone finally land the crushing blow he won’t survive?
Book Links
♥ ARe
♥ Amazon
♥ Audible
Excerpt
667, 668, 669….
A file slapped the desk in front of James, distracting him from his attempt at counting the dots in the ceiling tiles above him.
“I know you’re busy and all,” Brian said, his usual sneer in place. “But do you think you’ll have time to help a new client?” The man just lived to give him a hard time.
James took a deep breath. He desperately hoped his hatred of the man towering over him didn’t show. James Knew open displays of boredom pissed Brian off, but James hadn’t had a prospective or existing client call in two days. He’d finished his purchasing reports, sent the work orders and e-mail. All calls done. What else was he supposed to do?
“Sure, Brian. Let me see what we’ve got, and I’ll head right out,” James replied. He tried to sound upbeat. It wasn’t that he didn’t like his job; he did. But Brian hated him, and he always got the leftovers—usually clients the other designers did not want for one reason or another.
“I’m sure this one’s right up your—” Cough. “—alley,” Brian finished with a snicker.
James never figured out how someone so hateful and narrow-minded as Brian stood working in their field, much less kept his job. In James’s opinion, art, even corporate branding and design, should attract people with a bit more open-mindedness. He had a few ideas on the latter but kept his opinions, and gutter-mind, to himself.
Forcing a smile across his face as he opened the folder in front of him, James called out to Brian’s retreating form, “No worries, boss.”
Brian paused and turned to look over his shoulder and with a nasty smile added, “Oh, and the guy’ll be here in about ten minutes. Don’t screw up.”
Ten minutes? Seriously?
He started to peruse the new client information, pleased that at least the file seemed to be complete—charts, images, budget, etc.—and his phone rang. He answered on the second ring. “Good morning, James Bryant speaking.”
“Ah, Jamie, got the file yet? ’Cuz let me tell you, this one’s something else,” came the disembodied voice of his best friend and co-worker, Chase Manning. “He’s not like most of the scraps Brian-the-dick tosses you.”
“I’m sure I can handle whatever he sends my way. The clients aren’t usually as difficult as Brian and the others make them seem. They just don’t want to deal with high maintenance or quirky. Which, when you consider the job, makes no sense. But—”
“Jamie, dear,” Chase said, cutting him off. “That’s not it at all. This guy’s hot, and I mean H-O-T, hot. He’s waiting for you already and man, I so wish I had your job today,” he practically squealed. “So hurry up and get your sexy ass down here. Now.”
“Shh…. Don’t be so loud. The last thing I need is you to offend a new client. Now, go back to work and let me read over the file, would ya?” He shook his head and clicked off his Bluetooth. James glanced over the information for his new client. Seth Burns? Carl, their senior manager, had been trying to get Mr. Burns of Carrington Enterprises as a client for years. Wonder what he’s looking for and how this project slipped past Brian to me?
Setting it aside, James pulled out his messenger bag and loaded it with the folder. He already had all his staples in there: pens, pencils, a notebook or two, and a couple of sketch pads. He carefully hung it across his neck and shoulder so the bag wouldn’t slip. He preferred his backpack, but his boss frowned on “casual.” James gathered his forearm crutches, the plain black ones he only used for work, and he began the arduous task of getting up before he slipped his arms through the cuffs.
Once satisfied he wasn’t forgetting anything, James slung himself down the hall to the elevator, where he waited. He hated standing there, given Brian’s office faced the hall.
When James reached the main floor, Chase seemed to vibrate as he waited for him. His face reminded James of a child at Disney World instead of the twenty-five-year-old man he actually was.
“Do you want to meet with him down here in one of the conference rooms?” Chase pleaded, batting his eyes for full effect. He knew better than to act like that, but, oh well.
“Relax, Chase,” James said with a smile. Chase, his sometimes assistant and best friend, always worried about James walking too much, but then he never managed to understand the idea of limitations versus inability. James could walk, though he couldn’t walk far or carry much of anything. He simply needed his crutches. Limitations James loathed but had learned to accept.
“I just hate you traipsing up and down the halls. I wish—”
“Don’t,” James snapped harder than he’d meant to. “Sorry. You know I appreciate your concern, but I’m a big boy and can manage fine. Now, go back to your desk and do your job so I can do mine.”
With a huff, Chase flounced back to his desk. “Fine,” he called over his shoulder. “Be that way.”
James ignored him and pushed on, maneuvering himself around to reception to meet his new client.
Author Information
Tempeste O’Riley is an out and proud pansexual gender fluid whose best friend growing up had the courage to do what she couldn’t–defy the hate and come out. He has been her hero ever since.
Tempe is a hopeless romantic that loves strong relationships and happily-ever-afters. Though new to writing M/M, she has done many things in her life, though writing has always drawn her back–no matter what else life has thrown her way. She counts her friends, family, and Muse as her greatest blessings in life. She lives in Wisconsin with her children, reading, writing, and enjoying life.
Tempe is also a proud PAN member of Romance Writers of America®, Rainbow Romance Writers, and the WisRWA. Learn more about Tempeste and her writing at http://tempesteoriley.com.
Author Links
♥ Blog
♥ DSP {Dreamspinner Press}
♥ G+
♥ Tumblr
♥ Website
Other Works by Tempeste O’Riley
Desires Entwined Series
Designs of Desire (Amazon)
Simple Desires (in Grand Adventures Anthology)
Bound by Desire (Free Read at ARe)
Desires’ Guardian (Amazon)
Temptations of Desire (Amazon)
Truth in Lace (Amazon)
Standalones
Caged Sanctuary (Amazon)
Anthologies
Grand Adventures (Dreamspinner Press)
Hope & Love Anthology (Amazon)
November 17, 2014
Sorry been AWOL.
The time change kicks me in the butt every fall. I want to blame it on the time change anyway. I did email the winner of the hop. So this weekend coming up is my birthday. I am going to be giving another ebook away not sure which one, so keep an eye out. I am working on getting Playing with Magic done so I can release it. I am also writing away on Blood Father! More updates coming soon.
November 3, 2014
N.D. Wylders’s Don’t Call Me Iron Man Cover Reveal!! #coverreveal
So to make this a little more interesting than just showing off my sexy cover and giving you a quick snippet from my new upcoming release from Decadent, I thought I’d give you some fast five’s at each blog who is featuring my new shiny cover. That way you get to know a bit about the crazy characters and the fantastic world of Sisera that is featured in Don’t Call Me Iron Man. And for this stop you’re going to get a quick glimpse into the villain of my story, the up to no good, Queen Theria.
Fast Five about our villainess:
She is willing to blackmail anyone if it will benefit her clutch .
Has lost both her son and husband to a parasite that attacks those who live within the royal clutch.
Is desperate to retrieve what she believes to be nothing more than healing unit.
4 Refuses to leave the clutch even if it would save her people.
Is ultimately conniving and knows how to get what she wants from everyone – including Ivan.
Blurb:
Once upon a time…there was this guy. A man who had an IQ out of this world and was arrogant enough to give the legendary Tony Stark a run for his money. He had everything he could ever want – a good job, more money than he knew what to do with, and all the sex he wanted – no strings attached. But that all changed on one fateful night…
The last thing Ivan Chugunov expected when he dropped by his favorite haunt for a few brews was to be entertained by a mysterious storyteller. But as he listened to the man’s tale of a prince and an oddity that went by the name of Iron John, he found himself lost in the story…only to awaken in another realm – one with a quest – for him. Repair the purifier vital to all those who lived and retrieve a medical unit. Seemed simple enough and a small enough price to pay to return to his own realm. Well, until he finds out that said ‘LT-1789 unit’ is actually a reclusive cybernetic man. One who will demand his own price of Ivan – three nights of unbridled sexual bliss…with Ivan at his mercy. Only then will he return to the royal clutch. Can Ivan, a man who relishes control above all else, submit to a man who may be more machine than human?
Excerpt:
“Until the queen sent me in to unclog the purifier again.” Ivan rolled onto his back, his limbs sprawled out in a way that was so reminiscent of Vihaan, Lucero wasn’t sure if he wanted to cry or jump the man. “After losing your lover, there’s probably nothing I could offer that would convince you to return to the royal clutch, is there?”
Lucero astonished himself when the words flew out of his mouth. “I want the tribus noctibus. Give me three nights of pleasure, and I will return with you.”
Ivan frowned and pushed up on one arm. “What do you mean three nights of pleasure? You’re demanding I sleep with you, in exchange for something you’ve done before?”
He gave a hoarse chuckle. “No, you’re asking me to return to a life of watching those around me die, of being under the thumb of a queen who cares more for land than those who live on it. Well, I won’t go back to that kind of hell without being compensated.”
“And forcing me to have sex with you is your way of being paid? How do you even know if I’m into men?”
Lucero continued to rock but met Ivan’s gaze. “I’d never force you to do anything you didn’t want, Ivan. I’m designed to take care of others. The same thing that tells me that you’re approximately two-hundred-and-sixty-five pounds and six-foot-five assures me that you are more than just attracted to me. When I get close, your heart rate accelerates, your breathing becomes faster, and your blood pools in your groin.”
Ivan sat up with a surge of powerful muscles, his face red. “You scanned me?”
“In a fashion. The same sensors that allow me to diagnose illness pick up things like elevated heartbeat and heavy breathing.” Lucero crossed his arms over his chest. “So it’s simple. You find me attractive and I’ve been alone a long time. You need me to go back to the clutch, and I find myself yearning for what I’ve been so long without—a lover. Agree to this, and I’ll return to the clutch with you at the end of the three days.”
“Just like that?” Suspicion colored Ivan’s words.
Lucero nodded. “If you make it through all three days, Ivan. However, what I view as sexual pleasure may be more than what you’re used to.” Whatever Ivan expected when he entered the Queen’s Hall, it wasn’t what he got. Instead of tapestries, velvets and brocades, and majestic furnishings, the room was a blend of futuristic design with shiny-metal walls, vertical blinds, and uncomfortable furniture. The floor gleamed under foot and appeared to be polished stainless steel. At the center of the room behind a sleek desk, a woman dipped the end of a long feather quill into a small metallic inkwell then scribbled on the pages of a massive book. The contrast of the futuristic, ultra-modern appearances with the outdated past of inkwells and quill pens caused Ivan to doubt his senses. Where in the hell was he?
The guard cleared his throat and the woman glanced up, her expression far from serene. Her eyes narrowed in obvious irritation at the interruption, the bags under them more pronounced than he expected. She pursed her lips and her eyebrows drew together before she relaxed her face. The quick metamorphosis baffled him while sending the urge to flee to his folded limbs. This was the queen?
As she stood, Ivan struggled to reconcile this woman with any fairytale version of a queen he’d ever read about. But it was impossible. She didn’t have the appearance of a matriarch. Tall, like the guard, her blonde hair was cut pixie short, but shot through with a bit of gray. She wore knee-high leather boots and a form-fitting, black jumper. The only outward sign of her rule were the precious jewels adorning each shoulder, the silver chain accenting her slender waist, and the huge opaque stone nestled in a wide silver ring on the middle finger of her left hand. But even without a crown or scepter, her aura of power was palpable.
Want to find out more? Be sure to visit the rest of the wonderful peeps showing off my cover today…
TL REEVE EVELISE ARCHER LANDRA GAFT ELLIE POTTS
KATE RICHARDS V.S MORGAN A PASSION FOR ROMANCE
THE BITTEN, SHORTEN, NOT SO NORMAL
Bio:
So a little about me? Well, I’ve been writing for nearly as long as I’ve been able to type. Being dyslexic, my first typing class was a godsend (and yes, my dears it was called typing in those days.) And with the encouragement of my family and a determination to give stories to the voices in my head, I’ve been writing for the past six years. Initially I started out with erotic romance, BDSM, and menage under another pen name. All that changed in early 2013, however. As an avid reader of M/M erotic romance, I finally decided to take the plunge into writing it myself. But to keep my readers happy, I have decided to split my work between two identities. Most of my contemporary erotic romance, BDSM and Menage books will still be written under my Dakota Trace pen name, while almost all of my M/M work will appear under N.D. Wylders.
When I’m not clacking away at the keyboard, I’m riding herd over my three children, great-niece and nephews. But if I have the time… you may find me in the kitchen cooking up something delicious, tinkering around on the computer with cover art, or simply devouring the latest M/M romance book on my e-reader.
But I’m never too busy to talk to my readers, so feel free to hit me up on Facebook, Twitter or even through my website.
Links:
