Anna Butler's Blog, page 5

E. W. Doc Parris creates “A Dent In The Universe” – with a giveaway!

E.W. Doc Parris has a new sci-fi/horror book out: The Dent in the Universe. And there’s a giveaway – a $50 Amazon gift card.

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To resuscitate his fading celebrity, tech CEO Stephen Lucas would sell his soul for one more hit. When the subspace network for his holographic gaming empire crashes, his hardware guru makes a discovery proving that, though the mechanics may differ a bit, Einstein was right once again— information can be sent backward in time.

Lucas sees a dream product for procrastinators. Want a pizza now? Send your order back in time 30 minutes. Forgot to make reservations at that chichi french restaurant two weeks ago? No worries. Buy that PowerBall ticket. Invest in that stock. Make a FaceTime call to a loved one that passed away a month ago.

In a culture built on instant gratification, Lucas knows he has a hit that will make Wall Street sit up and beg. But when he rushes into beta testing, he learns that the stuff dreams are made of can quickly become the stuff of nightmares.

Warnings: violence, torture, body horror, branding, implied cannibalism.

Universal Buy Link | Liminal Fiction | Goodreads

Giveaway

Doc is giving away a $50 Amazon gift card via this Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47282/?

Excerpt

Stephen picked up the keyboard and typed, Watson, come here. I want to see you.

Before he hit enter, the display on his right blinked and displayed a log entry. The display directly in front of him showed the log of the interaction, a white line of text that showed what he’d typed, Watson, come here. I want to see you, and the time sent, 630231 milliseconds. The display on the right, the one that flashed before he hit enter, showed the same.

Walrus said, “Look at the timestamps. The sending input occurred at 630231 milliseconds. The receiving event happened at 629931 milliseconds.”

Stephen looked puzzled. “The clocks are off? That’s a 300…?” he checked his math, “300-millisecond difference.”

Walrus grinned. “Negative 300 milliseconds. The clocks aren’t off.”

“The time server is off?” Stephen knew that was the culprit in the outage.

Walrus shook his head. “Nope. These two chips are in perfect sync to FTL time.”

Stephen stopped and thought. The message appeared to be arriving 300 milliseconds before it was sent. “I’m not getting it,” he said.

Walrus laughed and did his little dance again. “Yes! You are! Tell me what you see.”

Stephen said slowly, “The message looks like it’s being received before it was sent, 300 milliseconds before.” Walrus grinned, and Stephen continued, “But that’s not possible. What’s causing the discrepancy? If the clocks aren’t wrong and the time server was working properly…?” He shook his head.

Walrus’s grin widened. “It’s a time machine.”

Stephen leaned back a bit from the desk. “Right.” Walrus let it sink in. “What do you mean?” He thought Walrus was speaking metaphorically.

Walrus laughed and said, “I mean, this is a time machine.”

Stephen looked at the set-up in front of him. It was a hacked sChip on a breadboard and a couple of displays strung together with cables and alligator clips. This wasn’t a time machine.

Walrus relented. “I’ve tweaked the power supply to dial in a tiny phase variance in the I/O to this sChip, like our customer did by accident. The tensor array interpreted this as an attribute, sending the signal to a point in time before it was sent. 300 milliseconds before. About a third of a second.”

Stephen recalled the chain of events. The right display refreshed a fraction of a second before he hit enter. Examining the log, what he had typed was there. Watson, come here. I want to see you.

He frowned and thought for a few seconds. “A third of a second? It’s the least impressive time machine imaginable,” he said. “This crashed the time servers?”

Walrus nodded, finished his cola, tossed its crushed container in the recycling bin, and peeled open another. “Essentially. I’ve cleaned up the effect, and I’m not messaging the time server. The timeserver would have ignored an invalid time sync transaction. It’s programmed to dump garbage bits. This wasn’t garbage, it was a perfectly normal sync transaction, but the handshake was out of order. The time server software questioned its own reality. It wobbled, tried to regain its equilibrium, and tipped into cascade failure.”

“It’s fascinating, but…” Hard-wired by the last six years to search for a new product, Stephen’s mind was searching for a use for what he was seeing. “I mean, it is cool, but it’s useless—a weird trick of physics. What can we do with it?” He thought for a little more. “This is IP data?”

Walrus shrugged, “It’s a packet like any other packet.”

“So, if it’s packets, then it’s IP, then it’s anything. Form data, text, jpegs, audio, video, holo.”

Walrus nodded and grinned, “Sure. You could surf the web of 300 milliseconds ago…”

Stephen interrupted him, “Can we extend that? Could we rig these in series? Go back further?”

“We could do it more elegantly than that—How much further?”

“You tell me, what’s the theoretical limit?”

“Well, you’d need a receiver. So whatever we end up making would only go back to the first chips that go online. We make a chip today, turn it on, in a week, we could go back to that moment but not before, right? The longer we’re online, the further back we can send things.”

Stephen shook his head. “We couldn’t go back further than tonight?”

Walrus nodded. “There would be nothing to send it to. As soon as we flip the switch on our time machine, we’d be establishing a time horizon. But say we turned on a receiving device tonight. In a year, you could send a message back to tonight. That would be a year in your past. In two years, you could send a message back two years, on and on, until the end of the world.” He laughed and said, “You know that old site, The Way Back Machine? The internet archive? This would be like that but live. You could actually surf the web of the past. Leaving comments on a video from a year earlier.”

Stephen frowned dismissively and said, “What good would that do? I can leave a comment on that same video today. The entire internet is available back to the 90s.”

Walrus smiled, “But it’d be radical!” Radical was not the goal. Stephen needed a killer application, a product everyone would want. Walrus’s stomach growled loudly. “Man,” he said, “I’m starving. Wanna order a pizza? Hey man, that’s what we could do!” he said jokingly, “We could use it to order pizza a half hour ago, so it arrives…” and he snapped his fingers.

Stephen froze. His pupils widened. Instant Pizza. Instant delivery. Instant gratification.

The entire computer industry of the last forty years was built around delivering everything as quickly as possible. Meeting the desires of the customer. Right. Fucking. Now. If no one ever went broke underestimating the American people’s intelligence, as Mencken might have said, it would follow: no one ever went broke catering to their impatience.

Author Bio

E.W. Doc Parris is an American writer known for matter-of-fact, hard science fiction grounded in the current scientific weltanschauung, leavened with wit, and kindled by the warmth of human relationships.

Born within the nation’s capital Beltway, Doc makes his home in the foothills of Virginia’s Blue Ridge. A self-taught software developer and solutions architect, he’s made a decent living over the years as a set designer, graphic designer, animator, 3D modeler, iOS developer, puppeteer, and educator.

In addition to his centuries-spanning WalrusTech Reality series, Doc is currently working on his next novel, Land of Nod, an exploration of A.I., nanotech, and the human brain’s neural network.

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Author Website: https://www.ewdocparris.com

Author Mastadon: @ewdocparris@writing.exchange

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ewdocparris/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/ewdocparris

Colin Alexander’s ‘The Lucky Starman’ is out now

Colin Alexander has a new post-apocalyptic sci-fi book out, Leif the Lucky book 3: The Lucky Starman.

About the Book

Is Leif really lucky? Stranded in orbit, viewing a destroyed civilization on Earth through the screens of a starship almost out of fuel and food, he doesn’t feel that way.

It wasn’t supposed to be like that.

As the starship Dauntless returns from a successful mission to the planet called Heaven, Earth holds no attractions for Exoplanetary Scout Leif Grettison. He wants only to complete the mission and leave for another star, along with ace pilot Yang Yong. In fact, he would be happy spending the rest of his life flying the starways with her.

But they and the rest of the ship’s skeleton crew awaken from hibernation to find Earth’s solar system dark and silent—no signals, no responses to their transmissions. When they make orbit, the magnitude of the disaster becomes clear: An apocalyptic war has killed billions and destroyed every last source of power and tech that 22nd-Century humans relied on to survive.

Getting down to Earth is only the beginning of Leif’s problems. Those few who survived the apocalypse are still divided, fighting over what’s left. The disastrous re-entry to Earth leaves him with no resources or allies. He lands in the middle of a makeshift family that needs him more than he’s comfortable with and hears stories—even nursery rhymes—that speak of a lucky starman. For once, he’s the only person with tech—but if he’s caught using it, they might kill him.

Can a man back from the stars end the warfare on Earth, or will he make it worse? Can he save a family that might become his? Is he everyone’s lucky starman?

Warnings: Combat situations (one-on-one and armies), named characters die

About the Series

These are the adventures of Leif, who some have called the Lucky. They begin in the year 2069, when humanity’s last chance for peace is the first ever interstellar mission. However, when you believe you have thought of everything, the universe has a way of showing that you haven’t.

What do you do when it goes wrong, when you can’t call for help, and when adventure leads to deaths? If you survive one journey, what do you do next?

Get It On Amazon | GoodreadsExcerpt

“Leif, we have a problem.”

I heard Charley’s voice as if from a great distance. The post-hib blur was a dense fog in my mind. I recognized the words but could not grasp their meaning. In my defense, I hadn’t even sat up in the hibernation unit yet; its bath was still draining.

I wrenched off the mask and cannula and removed the port from my arm. Then I sat up with a profound groan. Nearly four and a half years’ hibernating did more than blur the brain. Every muscle was stiff. I was surprised my joints didn’t squeak. Multiyear hib did not get better with repetition. I blinked and tried to bring Charley’s face into focus. Dr. Charles Osborne, I told myself. Our ship’s physician. He was supposed to be with me when I came out of hib. He had dark brown skin on a kindly round face, short black hair, and a closely cropped beard.

“Leif, we have a problem,” he repeated. “Yang needs you on the bridge.”

Why did there always have to be a problem? Why couldn’t someone say, Leif, life is great, and the world is beautiful. Why don’t you come share it? But, no, that’s not the way my life goes.

I groaned again and managed to say, “What?”

Charley shook his head. “I don’t know. Look, I’m sorry I didn’t get your equipment off first. I’m, I don’t know, worried. Here’s your OJ. Yang asked you to skip the gym. She really wants you on the bridge as soon as you can get there.”

That bit penetrated the blur. Yong had woken me early on the flight to High Noon, the very first starshot, when the ship’s computer tried to abort the mission after a hib failure. What was it this time?

I downed the orange juice with sugar in one fast chug. Having come out of four previous multiyear hib stretches on starflights, I had learned that the best way to return to the status of a functional human was to follow a carefully escalating workout routine in the gym. It felt awful while I was doing it, but it worked. There would be a good reason if Yang Yong wanted me to skip it. And the good reason would be something bad. Count on it.

I blinked again. “Can I at least get dressed and grab a couple of protein bars from the caf?” I did manage to get the croak out of my voice.

“I’m sure,” Charley said. “Just grab ’em and go to the bridge.”

“I’m on it,” I said. “Where’s the famous laxative pack?”

Charley had that in his other hand. The constipation from hib on an interstellar flight would not, in fact, kill you, but there were times I wished it would.

Once Charley left, I pulled myself out of the unit and stood up, shivering. My muscles shook trying to hold me upright. At least I’d done this often enough to know what would hurt most and how to manage it. The biggest problem was the knee that had been surgically rebuilt after I was wounded on Mindanao back in 2062. That was why I had left the Rangers and the service, and with each long hib, it got harder and harder to return it to normal.

No help for that. I settled for cursing long and loud while I toweled off. Then I pulled on the ship’s polo shirt with its NASA emblem over the left breast and my name, Grettison, embroidered below it. The starshot emblem of a gloved hand clutching a star above STARSHOT xv was stitched over the right breast. Ship pants, ankle socks, and ship boots completed the outfit. We were obviously decelerating at one gee because my weight felt normal, so I didn’t need the SureGrip soles for the StickStrips on the deck.

I pulled open the privacy screen around my unit and stepped out onto the hib deck. All the other units I could see were off. My adrenals squeezed immediately and I felt a sense of panic. Then my mind pulled its memories through the post-hib blur. Of course nearly all the units were empty and off. We had put the colonists down on the planet called Heaven, meaning only seven of us were on the Dauntless for the return to Earth.

I did a set of breathing exercises and got my heart rate and blood pressure under control. It wouldn’t do for me to have a stroke before I heard Yong’s problem. Maybe afterward, if it was bad enough.

With my legs wobbling under me, I took the lift to the deck where the caf was and grabbed energy bars. I took the time to eat one of them and chug another sugared orange juice. I needed to get to the bridge, but I also needed to not fall on my face when I got there.

When I entered the bridge, two energy bars swallowed and two more in my pocket, one of the chairs swiveled around. Yang Yong, pilot-in-command of the Dauntless, stood to greet me. She was a petite and slender woman with high cheekbones and brown hair cropped as short as mine. Small, yes, but there was nothing soft or delicate about her. She’d been a crack attack plane pilot for China’s People’s Liberation Army Air Force during the Troubles, which meant we had been on opposite sides of the fighting. Opposite sides, hell. She had damn near killed me on Mindanao when she bombed my platoon’s position the day the world almost ended.

Fortunately, our relationship had evolved from there. We were now two sides of the same coin and had decided to spend our lives flying through the universe together. It’s not that either one of us ever used the L‑word, but we knew what we meant to each other.

She did not smile at me. She did not even give me her tight little grin. I knew her well enough to tell that she was tense, though no one else would see any difference in the way she held herself.

If Yang Yong was tense, something was very, very wrong.

“What’s the problem?” I asked.

“I don’t know. We are not receiving anything.”

“Nothing?” I tried to wrap my mind around that and let my hand drop from the pocket with the energy bars. They could wait.

“Nothing,” she repeated. “We are inside the orbit of Pluto, and there is no signal from the International Space Commission. I have sent transmissions to Earthbase, NASA, and CNSA. We have received no response, and enough time has elapsed for a reply to reach us. Before you ask, I have checked over our equipment. It is fine. The solar system is silent.”

Author Bio

Colin Alexander is a writer of science fiction and fantasy. Actually, Colin Alexander is the pseudonym for Alton Kremer, maybe his alter ego, or who he would have been if he hadn’t been a physician and biochemist and had a career as a medical researcher. His most recent book, The Lucky Starman, is his ninth and the third of the Leif the Lucky novels. Colin is an active member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers Association, Mystery Writers of America, and the Maine Writers & Publishers Alliance. Away from writing fiction, his idea of relaxation is martial arts (taekwondo and minna jiu jitsu). He lives in Maine with his wife.

Author Website: https://www.afictionado.com

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/ColinAlexanderAuthor

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/colinalexander

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/colinalexander

Tim Rayborn’s “Chantz” is out – with giveaway

Tim Rayborn has a new queer urban fantasy out (bi, lesbian), Qwyrk Tales book 3: Chantz.

Qwyrk can’t get a break. Spring is springing, but she’s stuck breaking up drunken faery fights as Beltane approaches. She really wants to take things to the next level with her possibly-probably-girlfriend Holly, but she keeps coming down with a chronic case of chickening out.

And now, her best human friend, Jilly Pleeth, has had a rather odd encounter. While attending a concert by her favorite band, the Mystic Wedding Weasels, Jilly was amazed by their enigmatic singer, Chantz. There’s something downright magical about her voice, something so magical that an evil force from outside this world wants her for nefarious reasons. But will Chantz succumb to its lure?

Chantz is the third in a series of four novels about the comic misadventures of a group of misfits at the edge of normal reality in modern northern England, a world of shadows, Nighttime Nasties, eldritch screaming horrors, appalling neo-Shakespearean sonnets, undead corvids, an abundance of verbal sparring, and… Qwyrk is not an elf, all right? They’re just silly!

Universal Buy LinkGiveaway

Tim is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour via this Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47279/?

Excerpt

After a few minutes of meandering on campus, she found a rather expansive and tree-filled enclosure marked by a sign reading “Welcome to St. George’s Field.” Seeing as she could lose herself in its trees, this place would suffice. Wandering in, she found herself strolling through a historic cemetery, which appealed to her gothy aesthetic sensibilities. She sat herself down on a stone bench not far from some centuries-old headstones and tried to focus, to think, to something.

She closed her eyes, trying to recall the feeling of the power flowing through her.

“What are you?” she whispered.

For a time, she felt nothing. Sighing in frustration, she opened her eyes. The field was mercifully unpopulated today, so she decided to risk singing a little tune, an old Irish folk song. She couldn’t remember where she’d learned it. She couldn’t remember much of anything before the last couple of years, to be honest. But there it was, stuck in her head, so she called on it.

It was a simple melody with a short verse and a chorus. She didn’t even know all the words, but that didn’t matter. She just sang the bit she knew over and over. It was soothing, comforting, and connected her to something, as if stirring a memory. She closed her eyes again, allowing it to wash over her. For the first time in a while, she formed a genuine smile. Not a big smile, mind you, she did have her reputation to think of, after all.

As she neared the third repeat, something happened. She heard a voice in her head, one that contrasted with her own. It was more like a momentary flash of sound, in a language she didn’t recognize. It didn’t make her stop singing; in fact, she wanted to continue. After she sang another verse or two, and she heard it again, like a call across some great gap. But was it far away in the distance? Or maybe in time?

How does that even make any sense?

Intrigued, she kept singing, but lowered her voice so as not to attract any onlookers. It would be just like someone to come up in the middle of it and ruin the whole experience, with their chattiness and insipid curiosity.

As it turned out, she was indeed interrupted, but not by any passersby who should have been minding their own business. In her mind’s eye, she saw a face. The face of an old woman. She had long, disheveled grey-streaked hair, and her complexion was wan and weathered, with dark shadows under her eyes. There was almost something cool about her. The face was obscured, as if peering through a fog, and Moirin couldn’t gauge its intent. She wasn’t imagining it; her imagination was good, but not this good. The woman opened her mouth as if to say something, but no words emerged, and if she were the one speaking those foreign words, Moirin wouldn’t have understood her, anyway.

The old woman smiled, but it was an odd smile, and not really a happy one, more like sinister grin. She seemed to want something from Moirin. The smile grew bigger and stretched to unnatural proportions. Her eyes began to lighten, not just the pupils, but the whole of her eyes, greying at first and then fading into a milky white.

Moirin’s heart raced. She stopped singing and gasped. Whatever this thing was, she wanted nothing to do with it. She tried to open her eyes, but they were heavy, almost as if she’d been drugged. Her ears seemed to close up, and the world around her disappeared. She shook her head and tried to stand up, but just like her eyes, her legs no longer worked. She started to panic and opened her mouth again, not to sing but to scream, shout for help, something. But no sound escaped.

The face sneered at her, perhaps enjoying her helplessness. It became ever more twisted and grotesque and opened its mouth again, almost in mockery of Moirin’s inability to do so. A low-pitched wailing sounded from the old woman, a mournful call that seemed to portend something awful. It rose in pitch and volume to a full-on cry, a tuneless and wordless plaint that sounded like something out of an older time. It shook Moirin to the core, but the more she heard it, the more it seemed to invite her, to draw her in, even to tempt her. Whatever the ill intent of this creature invading her mind, and however frightening its call, Moirin felt oddly at home. She began to surrender to its lure, to its awful and seductive pull.

Author Bio

Tim Rayborn has written an astonishing number of books over the past several years. He lived in England for quite some time and has a PhD from the University of Leeds, which he likes to pretend means that he knows what he’s talking about. His generous output of written material covers topics such as music, the arts, history, the strange and bizarre, fantasy and sci-fi, and general knowledge.

He’s also an acclaimed musician. He plays dozens of unusual instruments that quite a few people of have never heard of and often can’t pronounce. He has appeared on over forty recordings, and his musical wanderings and tours have taken him across the US, all over Europe, to Canada and Australia, and to such romantic locations as Marrakech, Istanbul, Renaissance chateaux, medieval churches, and high school gymnasiums.

He currently lives in Washington state (where it rains a lot), surrounded by many books and instruments, as well as with a sometimes-demanding cat. He is rather enthusiastic about good wines, and cooking excellent food.

Author Website: https://timrayborn.com/

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/timrayborn

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/TimRaybornMusicandWriting

Author Mastodon: https://mastodon.social/@timrayborn

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rayborn.esoterica/

Author Liminal Fiction: https://www.limfic.com/?s=tim+rayborn&search_type=book_search

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Tim-Rayborn/author/B00DWY5J8E

A new Nicky and Noah book from the inimitable Joe Cosentino – out now!!

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The lovely Joe has a new Nicky and Noah book out – the 16th!! – and its available now. To tell you all about it, Joe’s corralled one of his characters, Noah Oliver, to talk about the book and his partner Nicky… read on for a fun interview with Noah.

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 An Interview with Noah Oliver
from Joe Cosentino’s Drama Merry,
the 16th Nicky and Noah mystery/comedy/romance novel

Noah, you are truly the Watson to Nicky’s Sherlock Holmes.
Elementary, my dear interviewer!

Congratulations on the release of the sixteenth novel in your award-winning and popular Nicky and Noah gay cozy comedy mystery series.
Thank you. The books span a decade, but Nicky and I are ageless.

Since the readers can’t see you, tell them what you look like.
Nicky says I’m tall, with silky golden blond hair, true-blue eyes, milk and honey skin, and a body he loves to hold all night long. Nicky is tall with dark hair and sexy long sideburns, a cleft chin I love to kiss, Roman nose, emerald eyes, and a muscular body thanks to the gym on campus (he calls a torture chamber). And Nicky has a huge heart. Oh, another of his organs is huge. And that’s just fine with me. (smile)

Tell us about Drama Merry, the sixteenth novel in your popular, award-winning series.
It stars Nicky and me! The sweet (pun intended) sixteenth Nicky and Noah mystery novel has our theatrical troupe back at Treemeadow College staging an original musical production of Robin Hood entitled, Why the Merry Men Are So Merry. Mystery ensues as the five Very Merry Men chorus members are murdered

As usual, calamity ensues.
Of course, it’s a Nicky and Noah mystery! In our very merry version, Nicky directs and plays the Sheriff of Nottingham. He and I (as Robin Hood) begin as adversaries and end up as lovers. Wouldn’t it be nice if feuding world leaders would do that? Also in our play within the novel, Maid Marian is played by our best pal and department chair Martin Anderson. Martin’s long-suffering husband, Ruben, is Friar Tuck (a drag queen). Our son, Taavi, is Will Scarlet, and his wife Sloane, a transexual, plays Maude Lindsey. Martin and Ruben’s son, Ty, is minstrel Alan-a-Dale, and Nicky’s nemesis Detective Manuello comes along for the ride as (not so little) Little John. Even our dog, Asterisk, and his husband, Tag, are cast as Merry Stud and Tail-wagger. The rest of the cast members are hunky newcomers to the series, so there are plenty of victims and suspects—not to mention sweet romance. If you read this novel, you’ll have more fun (as Nicky would say) than a conservative politician taking away workers’ rights.

Who are the new characters in book sixteen?
Things heat up pretty quickly between the assistant professors playing Merry Men David of Doncaster and Arthur a Bland: exotic and muscular Count Choreo and adorably stocky Pierce Falsetto. The same holds true for the theatre majors cast as Merry Men Gilbert Whitehead and Reynold Greenleaf: lean city boy Bass Jazzy and incredibly hunky country boy Spin Vibrato. But none of them are as hot as Nicky.

Who was your favorite new character?
Long and lean theatre major Bass Jazzy from New York City acts tough, but he has a heart of gold.

Which new character do you like the least?
Handsome Associate Professor of Dance Count Choreo is a bit cocky (no pun intended), but he has real charisma and style. What until you find out his secret!

Which new character is the sexiest?
Latin farm boy Spin Vibrato is incredibly muscular, and he builds beautiful furniture. He believes in werewolves, which is quite interesting.

What makes the Nicky and Noah mystery series so special?
Nicky and me! Actually, it’s a gay cozy mystery comedy series, meaning the setting is warm and cozy, the clues and murders (and laughs) come fast and furious, and there are enough plot twists and turns and a surprise ending to keep the pages turning, as Nicky would say, faster than a Mormon getting out of his magic underwear. At the center is the touching relationship between Nicky and me. You watch us go from courting to marrying to adopting a child, all the while head over heels in love with each other. Reviewers called the series “hysterically funny farce,” “Murder She Wrote meets Hart to Hart meets The Hardy Boys,” and “captivating whodunits.” One reviewer wrote they are the funniest books she’s ever read! Another said Joe is “a master storyteller.” Who am I to argue?  Even though Nicky and I tell Joe everything to write.

How are the novels cozy?
Many of them, like this one, take place in Vermont, a cozy state with green pastures, white church steeples, glowing lakes, and friendly and accepting people. Fictitious Treemeadow College (named after its gay founders, couple Tree and Meadow) is the perfect setting for a cozy mystery with its white Edwardian buildings, low white stone fences, lake and mountain views, and cherry wood offices with tall leather chairs and fireplaces.

Why do you think there aren’t many other gay cozy mystery series out there?
Most MM novels are erotica, young adult, dark thrillers, or supernatural. While that’s fine, I think we’re missing a whole spectrum of fiction. In the case of the Nicky and Noah mysteries, they include romance, humor, mystery, adventure, and quaint and loveable characters in uncanny situations. The settings are warm and cozy with lots of hot cocoa by the fireplace. The clues and red herrings are there for the perfect whodunit. So are the plot twists and turns and a surprise ending to keep the pages turning over as Nicky would say, faster than a Republican president taking away LGBT rights under the guise of “religious freedom.” No matter what is thrown in our path, Nicky always ends up on top. And that’s just fine with me.

For anyone unfortunate enough not to have read them, tell us the titles of the novels in the series.
The Nicky and Noah mysteries are Drama Queen, Drama Muscle, Drama Cruise, Drama Luau, Drama Detective, Drama Fraternity, Drama Castle, Drama Dance, Drama Faerie, Drama Runway, Drama Christmas, Drama Pan, Drama TV, Drama Oz, Drama Prince, and now Drama Merry.

Joe is a college theatre professor/department chair like Martin Anderson in your series. Has that influenced your series, Noah?
As a past professional actor and current college theatre professor/department chair, Joe knows first-hand the wild and wacky antics, sweet romance, and captivating mystery in the worlds of theatre and academia. The Nicky and Noah mysteries are full of them! He never seems to run out of wild characters to write about. His faculty colleagues and students kid him that if any of them tick me off, he’ll kill them in his next book. And he probably will!

What do you like about the regular characters in the series?
I love Nicky’s never give up attitude and sense of humor in the face of adversity. He’s genuinely concerned for others, and he’ll do anything to solve a murder mystery. He’s also a one-man man, and I’m proud to admit that man is me. I make the perfect Watson to his Holmes. I’ll admit I have a large heart and a soft spot (no pun intended) for others. I also enjoy using improvisation to create the wild and wonderful characters for our role plays to catch the murderer. I think it’s terrific how Martin and Ruben throw riotous zingers at each other, but they’re so much in love. You don’t see a lot of older gay characters in books nowadays. Our sons Taavi and Ty fit perfectly into our world of thespian crime-solving.

How about your parents?
I get a kick out of my mother’s fixation with taking pictures of everything, and my father’s fascination with seeing movies and television. I also love how my father is a bit of a ham and an amateur sleuth like Nicky. As they say, men marry their fathers. Nicky’s mother’s mafia ties and church Bingo addiction are also a riot. Both sets of parents fully embrace their sons and their sons’ family, which is refreshing.

I’m sure Joe has been told that the books would make a terrific TV series.
Many many times! Rather than Logo showing reruns of Golden Girls around the clock, and Bravo airing so called reality shows, I would love to see them do The Nicky and Noah Mysteries. Come on, TV producers, make your offers! Joe has written a teleplay of the first novel and treatments for the remaining novels!

Joe has written other mystery series: the Player Piano mysteries and the Jana Lane mysteries. There are mystery elements in his Cozzi Cove series and Found At Last series. A story in Joe’s Tales from Fairyland Anthology is a mystery.
They’re great stories, but Nicky and I aren’t in them (frown).

This book ends in a wallop. Is it the last book in the series?
Only the theatre muses know for sure.

How can your readers get their hands on Drama Merry, and how can they contact you?
The purchase links are below, as are Joe’s contact links, including his web site. Nicky and I love to hear from readers via Joe! He tells us everything you say about us! http://www.JoeCosentino.weebly.com

Thank you, Noah, for interviewing today.
My pleasure. I know you’ll laugh, cry, feel romantic, and love delving into this crackling new mystery with more plot twists and turns than a past Republican president’s bankruptcies, affairs, and fraudulent foundation and university (as Nicky would say). I’m more excited than a banker at 3pm (as Nicky would say) to share this sixteenth novel in the series with you. So don your tunic and tights, wave your arrow, and meet me in Sherwood Forest! I promise you a happy ending!

DRAMA MERRY (the 16th Nicky and Noah mystery)
a comedy/mystery/romance novel by JOE COSENTINO

Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes and Noble | KoboAbout the book

Spring and romance blossom at Treemeadow College when theatre professors Nicky, Noah, and their thespian cohorts stage an original musical adaptation of Robin Hood entitled, Why the Merry Men Are So Merry. Things are very merry indeed until some Merry Men drop like tights after a drag show. Once again, our favorite thespians will need to use their drama skills to catch the killer before their tights are in a knot—around their throats. You will be applauding and shouting Bravo for Joe Cosentino’s fast-paced, side-splittingly funny, edge-of-your-seat entertaining sixteenth novel in this delightful series. It’s a gas! So hurry to your seat. The stage lights are coming up in Sherwood Forest on a Robin in the hood, a sheriff with a bulge in his tights, a not-so-little Little John, a Friar Tuck drag queen, more Merry Men than in the back room of a family values’ convention, and murder!

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E-book and Paperback: 207 pages
Language: English
Genre: MM, contemporary, mystery, comedy, romance, theatre, musical theater, college, Robin Hood
Heat Level: 2
Cover Art: Jesús Da Silva
Release date: April 1, 2023

Excerpt

I leapt to my feet and scurried down the hallway. When I heard voices outside the theatre, I opened the backstage door, pretending to soak in some sun and (polluted) air. Spin Vibrato sat on a tree stump behind the theatre. Bass Jazzy approached him. “What’s up?”

Spin nearly spun in the air.

Bass said, “I didn’t mean to scare you, man.”

“You didn’t.”

“Could have fooled me.”

Spin’s pumped-up muscles nearly burst out of his tunic and tights. “I was just remembering something.”

“A past love?” Bass sat on an adjacent tree stump.

“No.” Spin gazed out at the trees as their harlequin leaves tickled the clear cyan sky.

Bass asked him, “Were you thinking about our number in the show: ‘Let’s Make a Rainbow’?”

“Actually, I was remembering something that happened back home.”

“On your family’s farm in Nebraska?”

Spin nodded.

“Hey, how did a Latinx family end up in Nebraska anyway?”

Spin cocked his head at him. “Stereotype much?”

Bass chortled. “Okay, I’m a black dude from New York City. When people from the city see Latinos, we don’t think they’re from Nebraska.”

“My grandparents were goat farmers in Argentina. They came to the US for a better life. They knew people who knew people with a goat farm in Nebraska.”

“That’s cool.”

“I doubt you’d say that if you lived in Nebraska.”

“Why?”

“Because I think you’d hate it there.”

“Stereotype much?”

“No, I’m pretty sure you’d go stir-crazy in Nebraska.”

Bass scratched at his dark hair. “Why? You don’t have restaurants, theatres, and nightclubs in Nebraska?”

“Of course we do. But we don’t rate and judge people based on their clothes, cars, jobs, friends, and how they spend their leisure time.”

“We don’t do that in the city.”

“Really?”

“All right. We don’t do it too much. But we can’t understand why people in red states vote Republican against their own self-interest while the rich get richer and everyone else…doesn’t. And why you give all of your money to a rich pastor who lives in a mansion? If the megachurches want to get into politics, they should pay taxes.”

“But you don’t judge anyone.” Spin smirked.

“Am I wrong?”

“Yeah, you’re wrong. At least in my case. I don’t vote Republican. And I don’t go to a megachurch. I don’t go to any church.” Spin rested his elbows on his knees. “One thing I like about goats. They don’t judge people.”

“Nobody is judging you.”

“Except for the chorus boys in our show who mock my hair, clothes, accent, what I eat, and the fact that I don’t belong to agym.”

“They mock me for not being classically trained.”

“Join the club.”

A crease appeared between Bass’s thick eyebrows. “Dude, if you don’t go to a gym, how’d you get that incredible body?”

Spin shrugged. “From building a house with my dad, I guess.”

“You built your own house?”

Spin nodded. “It’s a pretty nice house.”

“Then why did you come to Treemeadow, Vermont?”

“At my high school, the kid who was playing Harold Hill in the school’s production of The Music Man got appendicitis two days before opening night. My English teacher was frantic. She taught me the role fast, and I went on opening night. I wasn’t great, but I did a decent job. The audience really liked me.” His dimples appeared like scoops of ice cream. “After the show, for the first time in my life other people noticed me, complimented me, and told me I had talent. My teacher said I should major in theatre in college. She helped me fill out some applications. I was accepted at Treemeadow.”

There were plenty of open seats, since so many theatre majors here have been murdered.

Spin asked, “How about you? Why aren’t you off at some big New York City conservatory?”

“I couldn’t get in.” Bass sighed. “I don’t have any formal training or experience. Rap singing and dancing on the streets are my roots. I was ecstatic when I got accepted to Treemeadow. And I’ve learned a lot here.”

Spin nodded. “I guess Vermont isn’t that far away from New York City.”

“That’s what you think. Compared to New York City, this place is dead.”

As are many of the residents.

Spin leaned back on the stump. “You seem pretty happy here, especially when you’re around Professor Choreo.”

“You noticed that, huh?”

Helen Keller would have noticed that.

Spin rubbed his square jaw. “I hope you don’t mind me telling you something.”

“What’s that?”

Spin said, “I don’t think throwing yourself at Professor Choreo impresses him much.”

“But country people don’t judge anyone?”

“I’m not judging you.”

“Right. You’re just saying I throw myself at Choreo.”

“Don’t you?”

Bass shrugged. “So what if I do? I’m over eighteen. And I’m hot for the guy.”

“He seems pretty cool toward you.”

“So I’ve noticed—again and again.” Bass frowned. “I wish I could get Choreo to like me.”

Spin tented his fingers. “On my family’s farm, if one goat wants to mate with another goat, and the second goat isn’t interested, the first goat goes off and finds another goat.”

“And they live happily ever after on the farm.” Bass grimaced like a televangelist losing his wig and jewelry at the studio’s wind machine. “I don’t want to marry and mate with Choreo, I just want to fool around with him. Don’t country folk fool around with anything other than their farm animals.”

Spin gasped. “That was pretty rude. Just like you throwing yourself at Choreo—who doesn’t date his students by the way.”

“How do you know?”

“I heard him tell you that. I also heard you coming on to Graduate Assistant Lyric Baritone who was equally uninterested.”

Bass glared at him. “Dude, are you spying on me?”

“My dressing room is next to yours. The walls are pretty thin.” Spin folded his powerful arms over his thick chest. “Speaking of thin things, your skin seems pretty thin, city boy.”

“So does yours, country boy. Maybe the chorus guys are right about you.”

“The chorus guys aren’t right about anything.”

“We agree there.”

Spin smirked. “So we agree about something, do we?”

“Seems like it.” Bass rubbed his chin. “Maybe we aren’t so different.”

Spin chuckled. “We’re different all right.”

Bass’s eyes thinned. “I think we both have a secret.”

“Don’t we all have secrets?”

Bass nodded. “And I’m going to find out yours.”

“Not if I find out yours first.”

Their eyes met.

Praise for the Nicky and Noah mysteries

“Joe Cosentino has a unique and fabulous gift. His writing is flawless, and his plot-lines will have you guessing until the very last page, which makes his books a joy to read. His books are worth their weight in gold, and if you haven’t discovered them yet you are in for a rare treat.” Divine Magazine

“a combination of Laurel and Hardy mixed with Hitchcock and Murder She Wrote…

Loaded with puns and one-liners…Right to the end, you are kept guessing, and the conclusion still has a surprise in store for you…the best modern Sherlock and Watson in books today…I highly recommend this book and the entire series, it’s a pure pleasure, full of fun and love, written with talent and brio…fabulous…brilliant” Optimumm Book Reviews

“adventure, mystery, and romance with every page….Funny, clever, and sweet….I can’t find anything not to love about this series….This read had me laughing and falling in love….Nicky and Noah are my favorite gay couple.” Urban Book Reviews

“For fans of Joe Cosentino’s hilarious mysteries, this is another vintage story with more cheeky asides and sub plots right left and centre….The story is fast paced, funny and sassy. The writing is very witty with lots of tongue-in-cheek humour….Highly recommended.” Boy Meets Boy Reviews

“Every entry of the Nicky and Noah mystery series is rife with intrigue, calamity, and hilarity…Cosentino keeps us guessing – and laughing – until the end, as well as leaving us breathlessly anticipating the next Nicky and Noah thriller.” Edge Media Network

“A laugh and a murder, done in the style we have all come to love….This had me from the first paragraph….Another wonderful story with characters you know and love!” Crystals Many Reviewers

“These two are so entertaining….Their tactics in finding clues and the crazy funny interactions between characters keeps the pages turning. For most of the book if I wasn’t laughing I was grinning.” Jo and Isa Love Books

“Superb fun from start to finish, for me this series gets stronger with every book and that’s saying something because the benchmark was set so very high with book 1.” Three Books Over the Rainbow

“The Nicky and Noah Mysteries series are perfect for fans of the Cozy Mystery sub-genre. They mix tongue-in-cheek humor, over-the-top characters, a wee bit of political commentary, and suspense into a sweet little mystery solved by Nicky and Noah, theatre professors for whom all the world’s a stage.” Prism Book Alliance

“This is one hilarious series with a heart and it just keeps getting better. I highly recommend them all, and please read them in the order they were written for full blown laugh out loud reading pleasure!” Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words

About Joe

Joe Cosentino was voted Favorite MM Mystery, Humorous, and Contemporary Author of the Year by the readers of Divine Magazine for Drama Queen, the first Nicky and Noah mystery novel. He is also the author of

the remaining Nicky and Noah mysteries: Drama Muscle, Drama Cruise, Drama Luau, Drama Detective, Drama Fraternity, Drama Castle, Drama Dance, Drama Faerie, Drama Runway, Drama Christmas, Drama Pan, Drama TV, Drama Oz, Drama Prince, Drama Merry; the Player Piano Mysteries: The Player and The Player’s Encore; the Jana Lane Mysteries: Paper Doll, Porcelain Doll, Satin Doll, China Doll, Rag Doll; the Cozzi Cove series: Cozzi Cove: Bouncing Back, Moving Forward, Stepping Out, New Beginnings, Happy Endings; the In My Heart Anthology: An Infatuation & A Shooting Star; the Tales from Fairyland Anthology: The Naked Prince and Other Tales from Fairyland and Holiday Tales from Fairyland; the Bobby and Paolo Holiday Stories Anthology: A Home for the Holidays, The Perfect Gift, The First Noel; and the Found At Last Anthology: Finding Giorgio and Finding Armando.

His books have won numerous Book of the Month awards and Rainbow Award Honorable Mentions.

As an actor, Joe appeared in principal roles in film, television, and theatre, opposite stars such as Bruce Willis, Rosie O’Donnell, Nathan Lane, Jason Robards, and Holland Taylor.

He received his Master of Fine Arts degree from Goddard College, Master’s degree from SUNY New Paltz, and is currently a happily married college theatre professor/department chair residing in New York State.

http://www.JoeCosentino.weebly.com
Web site: http://www.JoeCosentino.weebly.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/JoeCosentinoauthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JoeCosen
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4071647.Joe_Cosentino
Amazon: Author.to/JoeCosentino
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/joecosentinoauthor

E. Robert Dunn’s “Echelon’s End Book 1: Last Generation”

E. Robert Dunn has a new queer sci-fi book out, Echelon’s End book one: Last Generation.

The year is 6752, A.T. and Earth is but a memory to its space faring descendents. The urbane beings of The System embark on a test-colonization mission to a far off solar group called Mira. The AST [Aidennia-System Transport] Saarien’s flight path is ended abruptly and the colonizing supership explodes under a hail from Tauron Starhounds; a century of peace with the Tauron Empire is fractured. Six Aidennian survivors jettison in a terra-forming conestoga Pioneer Pod.

Now, a young male echelon couple and their fellow crewmembers must deal with a reality in which their peaceful existence is shattered by war and prejudice. The only solace appears in the form of an unknown, arid planet in a ternary star group.

Upon the Pioneer Pod Four’s descent into the planet’s atmosphere, a defense planetary shield is activated and causes the Pod 4 to crash land in an ancient, dried-up seabed. This sets the Aidennians on a jarring adventure where survival is a game of chance with the life forces of the Universe.

Warnings: There are adult (sexual) references and interaction in several of the books.

Universal Buy Link | GoodreadsExcerpt

“Target”

CHAPTER ONE:

SYSTEM STAR CYCLE: 6752.0719 A.T.
PLANETARY DATE: 171/195
LAUNCH TIME: TEE-MINUS 02:32:30

A tranquil sphere hung in Space under a white cloud.

“I don’t know why,” Medical Commander Dara Lidasiress muttered to herself out loud, “but I have a bad feeling about all of this.”

From a vantage point some four hundred kiloretems above, Dara was watching it beyond the thick syntheglass of an observation viewport; the sight was dizzying, fascinating. The cloud‑shrouded planet Aidennia. It seemed to lie almost in the trajectory of the Orbiter 1: Aidennia Station. The light of a strong, middle‑aged sun cataloged as Pintarus 19 fell on the cloud.

“Count now stands at minus zero two nodes and thirty-two, and counting,” the station controller announced over the station PA. “All networks are green and go.”

Dara smiled nervously, distracting herself by the vista beyond and beneath her view. “Calm yourself,” she said aloud. “Feeling anxious is normal and natural. It is part of the system that evolved to keep us safe and well.” She took a deep breath. Being the only one in the observation lounge, she felt somewhat silly being self-conscious about her anxiousness. “Come on. Give it a chance.”

There was still plenty of time before she would be called. Dara shifted her attention and the room seemed to slip away, walls became gossamer and ethereal.

She was suddenly thinking of other times, and other places…

The public address net hummed again, then the controller was back with another update. “Minus zero two nodes and fifteen and counting. Technicians, complete final checkouts.”

Dara’s attention refocused as her peripheral view caught a glimpse of her reflection coming off the window. A tall, powerful slender, fine-boned figure, with high cheekbones and penetrating chocolate eyes that gave a look of great delicacy founded in extraordinary resiliency framed by a neatly cropped mane told that she was no shallow youth, but a fully mature adult.

Saying good‑bye had not been easy, especially to her elder sibling, Aspera. A sadness that had kept a small place in her heart now pulsed as Dara viewed Aidennia below.

“Medical Commander,” an unexpected, disembodied page intoned over the still airwaves.

“Yes?”

“There’s a planet to orbit call coming through for you.”

“Fine. I will take it here.”

The stylized blue-and-white ovals of the Spacecorps logo flashed holographically off a communication set. A dark-haired female holograph, an avatar of the real person making the summons, coalesced into view. The similarities between the two females were undeniable. Broad smiling features caused Dara’s voice to fill with emotion, her features melting into sudden recognition.

“Aspera!” Dara gasped, excitedly.

“I know your life is anything but normal right now, but I just had to say one last farewell.”

Feelings of euphoria swept repeatedly over Dara as she spoke without turning her eyes from the miniaturized figure on the holo-emitter. “I welcome any communication from you.”

“How are you doing?”

“Nervous.”

The female holograph laughed warmly, flashing a set of perfectly formed white teeth. The sound fell on ears that were eager to hear such a resonance.

“You would not be you without being that.” Aspera smiled. “You have much responsibility on your shoulders being peret of the vanguard for generations of clans to come. The first settlers on a new world where unlimited food and water will be the birthright for all…”

“You’re quoting incentive simulations.”

“Well, it is true. Regardless of the stature you have been elevated to by Spacecorps,” her smile broadened more. “You will always be my little sister.”

“A title I will always be proud to have…”

Dara was cut off as another controller announcement echoed throughout the towering launch apparatus.

“This is Spacecorps Launch Control,” he said. “Complete close-out preparations. Check command-apse switch configurations. Complete inertial measurement unit preflight alignments. Transition onboard computers to launch configuration. Start fuel cell thermal conditioning. Close vent valves. Transition backup flight system to launch configuration.’

“Sounds busy up there,” Aspera mused, undeterred.

Dara nodded. “Never-ending.”

“Are you alone?”

“Yes.”

“Where are the others?”

“Capel’s attending a mission commanders final briefing. The children are completing their concluding physicals with the other Pod crews, so I am just…”

“Seeking some solace before the launch.”

“You know me too well.”

Aspera hesitated, wanting to be near her sister, to soothe, to remind, to strengthen familial bonds. Another female would, perhaps, have flushed a little, she did not. Her face grew urgent. Meeting her younger sibling’s eyes, she said, steadily, “Then I best let you get to it.” She paused, more from emotion than for dramatic effect; she fought back sudden tears. Finally, she added, “Always know you are loved.”

“Always.”

There was another hesitation. A non-verbal exchange. The secret language between siblings.

“Are you more at peace with your decision?” Aspera asked.

“About the children?”

Aspera simply nodded.

“Capel and I have lived a good part of our lives,” Dara waxed. “The children are just starting out. If someone should be apart of this colonization effort, it should be Capel and me…”

“Do you remember when you were discussing your plans for the space flight? You could not decide whether you had the right to bring Moela, Retho, and Lunon along.”

“Yes. I remember.”

“Do you regret your decision?”

“You want the truth?”

“The truth.”

“Well, not knowing how long we can last out there…” Dara stifled a sob. “They deserve something more than that.”

“Having them with you …Is that what you want?”

“Yes.” Dara regained her composure, adding, “I suppose so.”

“They are degreed and qualified.”

The two siblings gazed at each other. Dara closed her eyes to show how she felt. Their bodies yearned across the void to reach each other, but they remained motionless. Aspera clenched her teeth.

“Until we meet again.”

Dara drew in her breath. Her voice was cracked with emotion as she replied, “Until then.”

Aspera sighed as she and her smile disappeared.

Author Bio

Born in the Midwest, raised in the Northeast, E. Robert Dunn began writing at the age of 14 and continued through his higher education in the Southeast where he currently resides. In addition to penning the science fiction series “Echelon’s End”, E. Robert has also written two off-Broadway plays, “LipSync” and “A Dragged Out Haunting”, and solo-penned the short-play entitled “VOiCES”. Additional works include, “The World We Live In”, The Life Of Another”, and “Are You Happy?”.

Robert was a contributing writer to the online STAR TREK: Odyssey’s Season One Finale webisode [featured in STARLOG Magazine, January 2008, “Beyond Hidden Frontiers”, p.89]. E. Robert has become a regular at SuperCon events on panels and participating in book signings/readings.

Besides being a produced playwright and published author, E. Robert has had articles printed in local newspapers as well as medical newsletters. He has also graced many a stage by his given name: Eston Dunn. He is the founder of the nonprofit organization artsUnited, Inc. A recent project is founding another non-profit online webcasting charity to educate while entertain through programs that unite those that are separated by the walls of stereotyping, prejudice, and bigotry (www.watchoutweb.org).

Author Website: https://www.erobertdunn.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/e.robert.dunn

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/erobertdunnauthor

Author Mastadon: @erobertdunn@masto.ai

Author Instagram: @erobertdunn

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/548150.E_Robert_Dunn

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/E.-Robert-Dunn/author/B001JRVEIK

Malene MCD by Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus out now!

Beryll & Osiris Brackhaus have a new queer sci-fi book out (bi, pan, poly), the latest tale in their Virasana Empire: Malena MCD.

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Mauve is a pet, a human pleasure slave. He is smart, ambitious, horny – and the only witness in a murder case. Or rather, he is ‘evidence’.

Luckily, the crime was committed on Malicorn, where an unsolved murder would disturb its profitable reputation as the safest planet of the Empire. So Mauve ends up in the hands of the Malena MCD, the local Major Crimes Division, run by ex-space-marine Alexej Sirenkov and his brilliant wife Andrea. Unwilling to see him stored in the evidence locker, the Sirenkovs take him home for a few days. And while Mauve hopes they might just be the perfect forever-owners, he has no idea of Mistress Andrea’s plans for them…

Written by award-winning authors Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus, ‘Malena MCD’ is a funny, naughty, police procedural throuple rom-com set in the wildly diverse, hopeful ‘Virasana Empire’ universe and can be read as a stand-alone.

Warnings: First Person POV, Slavery, MMF threesomes, Graphic Sex Scenes, Violence. And pigs, of course. We’re on Malicorn.

Universal Buy LinkExcerpt

“We can’t just leave him here on the couch, you know?” The drone of voices nearby had slowly been pulling me out of my nap for a while now, but these were the first words to actually penetrate the haze.

“Well, I won’t put him in those evidence holding cells!” Alexej’s voice got me wide awake. So he had returned to the headquarters. And they were talking about me. “Have you ever been there? It’s horrible!”

“Yes, love, I have been there.” Mistress Sirenkov, calm and patient. “And it’s not horrible. It’s clean, they get fed regularly.”

“They just sit in their cells, staring off into nothing. Do they drug them?” He sounded livid.

I cracked an eye open to locate them. They were standing right outside the office in the corridor, arguing.

“Alexej… what do you expect them to do? Sing and dance for your pleasure?”

She was being sarcastic, of course, but she did have a point. Granted, there wasn’t much to do for a slave impounded at the evidence locker. But for a slave, that wasn’t necessarily something negative. When else did you ever get a chance to just sit around and do nothing without having to worry about your owner violently objecting to your inactivity?

“I don’t know! I… I won’t let them have the kid.” He sounded much less outraged than frustrated by now. “Can’t we just take him home with us?”

Take me home?! Now that sounded like a spectacular idea. I would be able to work in Alexej’s house!

And they were commoners, so with a bit of luck they didn’t have too many slaves yet and I could make myself indispensable. Not sure how to do that, though, without any useful skills. As a bargain bin pet, what little training I got had barely covered the basics of how to give a blowjob or how to keep still when being fucked.

But I was smart and had picked up a few things along the way. How to make coffee, how to hang up laundry or do dishes and a smattering of other housekeeping abilities. A bit like a proper household slave, and that was infinitely better than being a pet. Householders got more valuable with age, while every pet had a doomsday clock ticking over their heads counting down to the day when they would be too old and used up to be desirable anymore. That thought had kept me motivated over the years. And I was a fast learner.

So this little sliver of a chance made my heart pound in my chest. Plus, being around Alexej all the time? The mere thought of seeing his gorgeous ass every day made me half hard. It would be torture, not being allowed to touch and lick him all over – but what sweet, sweet torture that would be!

“After all, he is evidence, and he might still prove useful in our investigations.” Alexej sounded like he was pleading a case, though the argument he chose wasn’t exactly the reason I had hoped for. “We should question him further tomorrow and see what else he can tell us about his late master.”

Mistress Sirenkov remained curiously quiet for a while. “I guess there’s no harm in that,” she eventually agreed. There was an odd undertone in her voice that I couldn’t identify, but Alexej seemed oblivious to it.

“So that’s settled then,” he stated and I quickly closed my eyes, pretending I was still asleep when he entered the office.

The couch dipped as he sat down on the edge and a comfortingly big and gentle hand nudged my shoulder. “Hey kid, wake up.”

I blinked at him sleepily, trying to give a credible show of just waking up. He still looked as delectable as he had earlier, only now his hair was more tousled and the shadow across his jaw more pronounced. I also noticed Mistress Sirenkov standing in the doorway behind him, her arms crossed over her chest, watching thoughtfully.

Alexej turned his reassuring smile on me and Mistress faded out of focus as all my attention was drawn to this gorgeous man.

“You look much better already.” Of course he didn’t mean it the way I wanted, but rational thought was hugely overrated anyway, especially when faced with so much attractive manliness. “I have to quickly take care of a few things here but then we’ll go home,” he continued. “We’ve decided that you’ll be staying with us for the duration of the investigation.”

I wasn’t sure if he expected a proper answer to that so I just nodded.

“Now, kid, I want you to do something for me…” A blowjob?! I’m good with blowjobs! Really! No one has ever complained! I’ll…

“I want you to start thinking about a name for yourself. We can’t just keep calling kid, can we?”

Oh.

I really needed to get a handle on my reactions to this man, or very soon I would make a complete idiot of myself and probably gross him out completely. I wasn’t exactly an expert at seduction since my owners hadn’t wasted a word on me except maybe ‘kneel’ or ‘hold still’. So apart from my probably rather useless knowledge from romance holonovelas, I had no clue how to get into his pants. And if I had, it would have been a very bad idea to try, with the wife and the daughter. With a professional attitude, I might have a chance at prolonging my presence in Alexej’s household, but if I behaved like the cheap slut I was, I would ruin whatever slim chances I had.

“Think you can do that?”

Do what?

Right, think of a name. In all honesty, I had no idea whatsoever. How does one pick a name for oneself? But I nodded anyway, just to please him. I would do anything just to see that smile of his again, so I needed to fucking figure out a name for myself. How hard could it be? I was well aware that it would be a temporary thing, anyway. I would only have it as long as I was with Alexej and the Mistress. Which, judging by my lack of self control, wouldn’t be overly long.

“I won’t be long. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” Alexej reached out and tousled my hair like I was some cute kid or dog.

Fuck, it was insulting.

Maybe I wasn’t as drool-worthy as other pets, but to be shown he didn’t consider me sexy at all plain hurt. Still, his touch made me tingle all over and I wanted to hump his leg. What was wrong with me?! Granted, he was pushing all my buttons, but that didn’t explain why I was an inch away from begging him to fuck me. I wasn’t this needy usually.

Author Bio

Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus are a couple currently living their happily ever after in the very heart of Germany, under the stern but loving surveillance of their cats.

Both are voracious but picky readers, love telling stories and drinking tea, good food and the occasional violent movie. Together, they write novels of adventure and romance, hoping to share a little of our happiness with our readers.

An artist by heart, Beryll was writing stories even before she knew what letters were. As easily inspired as she is frustrated, her own work is never good enough (in her eyes). A perfectionist in the best and worst sense of the word at the same time and the driving creative force of our duo.

An entertainer and craftsman in his approach to writing, Osiris is the down-to-earth, practical part of our duo. Broadly interested in almost every subject and skill, with a sunny mood and caring personality, he strives to bring the human nature into focus of each of his stories.

Author Website: https://www.brackhaus.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://de-de.facebook.com/people/Osiris-Brackhaus/100011014541510/

Author Mastadon: https://mastodon.social/@brackhaus (@brackhaus@mastodon.social)

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Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/de/Osiris-Brackhaus/e/B00IVTRO2E

J Scott Coatsworth’s “The Dragon Eater” – and a double giveaway!

J. Scott Coatsworth has a new queer YA/Crossover Sci-Fantasy book out – The Dragon Eater, Tharassas Cycle book one. There’s a giveaway, and a free book with purchase too!

Raven’s a thief who just swallowed a dragon. A small one, sure, but now his arms are growing scales, the local wildlife is acting up, and his snarky AI familiar is no help whatsoever.

Raven’s best friend Aik is a guardsman carrying a torch for the thief. A pickpocket and a guard? Never going to happen. And Aik’s ex-fiancé Silya, an initiate priestess in the midst of a magical crisis, hates Raven with the heat of a thousand suns.

This unlikely team must work together to face strange beasts, alien artifacts, and a world-altering threat. If they don’t figure out what to do soon, it might just be the end of everything.

Things are about to get messy.

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About the Series:

The Tharassas Cycle is a four book sci-fantasy series set on the recently colonized world of Tharassas. When humans first arrived on the planet, they thought they were alone until the hencha mind made itself known. But now a new threat has arisen to challenge both humankind and their new allies on this alien world.

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Order and Get the Prequel Free

Scott’s giving away the prequel, Tales From Tharassas, with all orders – it contains The Last Run, The Emp Test, and a brand new short story The Fallen Angel. Just order the book and email him a proof of purchase at scott@jscottcoatsworth.com, and he’ll send you the prequel eBook.

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Universal Buy LinkGiveaway

Scott is giving away a $20 book gift card with this reveal – your choice of Amazon, B&N, Kobo or Smashwords. Enter this Rafflecopter giveaway  for a chance to win.

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47276/?

Excerpt

Spin’s voice echoed in his ear. “This is a bad idea, boss.”

“Shush,” Raven whispered to his familiar.

He needed to concentrate. Cheek and jowl against the smooth cobblestones, he held his breath and prayed to the gods that no one had seen him duck under the sea master’s ornate carriage. The setting sun cast long shadows from a pair of boots so close to his face that the dust and leather made him want to sneeze. Their owner was deep in conversation with the sea master, the hem of her fine mur silk trousers barely visible. The two women’s voices were hushed, and he could only make out the occasional word.

Raven rubbed the old burn scar on his cheek absently, wishing they would go away.

“Seriously, boss. I’m not from this world, and even I know it’s a bad idea to steal from the sea master.”

Though only he could hear Spin’s voice, Raven wished the little silver ay-eye would just shut up.

The hencha cloth-wrapped package in the carriage above was calling to him. He’d wanted it since he’d first seen it through the open door. No, needed it. Like he needed air, even though he had no idea what was inside. He scratched the back of his hand hard to distract himself from its disturbing pull.

An inthym popped its head out of the sewer grate in front of him, sniffing the air. Raven glared at the little white rodent, willing it to go away. Instead, the cursed thing nibbled at his nose.

Raven sneezed, then covered his mouth. He held his breath, staring at the boots. Don’t let them hear me.

A shiny silver feeler poked out of his shirt pocket, emitting a golden glow that illuminated the cobblestones underneath him. “Boss, you all right?” Spin’s whisper had that sarcastic edge he often used when he was annoyed. “Your heart rate is elevated.”

“Be. Quiet.” Raven gritted his teeth. Spin had the worst sense of timing.

The woman — one of the guard, maybe? — and the sea master stepped away, their voices fading into the distance.

Raven said a quick prayer of thanks to Jor’Oss, the goddess of wild luck, and flicked the inthym back into the sewer. “Shoo!”

He popped his head out from under the carriage to take a quick look around. There was no one between him and the squat gray Sea Guild headquarters. It was time. Grab it and go.

He reached into the luxurious carriage — a host of mur beetles must have spent years spinning all the red silk that lined the interior — and snagged the package. He hoped it was the treasury payment for the week. If so, it should hold enough coin to feed an orphanage for a month, and he knew just the one. “Got it.”

“Good. Now get us out of here.”

A strange tingling surged through his hand. Raven frowned.

Must have pinched a nerve or something.

Ignoring it, he stuck the package under his arm, slipped around the carriage, and set off down Gullton’s main thoroughfare. He walked as casually as he could, hoping no one would notice the missing package until he was long gone.

“We clear?”

Spin’s feeler blinked red. “No. Run! They’ve seen you.”

Raven ran.

Author Bio

Scott lives with his husband Mark in a yellow bungalow in Sacramento. He was indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine. He devoured her library, but as he grew up, he wondered where all the people like him were.

He decided that if there weren’t queer characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.

A Rainbow Award winning author, he runs Queer Sci Fi, QueeRomance Ink, and Other Worlds Ink with Mark, sites that celebrate fiction reflecting queer reality, and is the committee chair for the Indie Authors Committee at the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA).

Author Website: https://www.jscottcoatsworth.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworth/

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworthauthor

Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/jscoatsworth

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jscottcoatsworth/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8392709.J_Scott_Coatsworth

Author Mastodon: https://mastodon.otherworldsink.com/@jscottcoatsworth

Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/

Author Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/J.-Scott-Coatsworth/e/B011AFO4OQ

J Scott Coatsworth’s “Skythane” now out as an audio book – plus giveaway

J. Scott Coatsworth has a new MM sci-fi romance audiobook out, Oberon Cycle book one: Skythane. And there’s a giveaway.

About Skythane

Jameson Havercamp, a psych from a conservative religious colony, has come to Oberon—unique among the Common Worlds—in search of a rare substance called pith. He’s guided through the wilds on his quest by Xander Kinnison, a handsome, cocky wing man with a troubled past.

Neither knows that Oberon is facing imminent destruction. Even as the world starts to fall apart around them, they have no idea what’s coming—or the bond that will develop between them as they race to avert a cataclysm.

Together, they will journey to uncover the secrets of this strange and singular world, even as it takes them beyond the bounds of reality itself to discover what truly binds them together.

Warnings: past abuse, past suicidal ideation.

About the Series:

Oberon is unique among the Common Worlds – a half-world with a strange past and an uncertain future.

Jameson Havercamp and Xander Kinnson are thrust into the middle of a world-ending event and have to scramble to save the world – and themselves.

Along the way, they peel back the layers of the onion to discover secrets wrapped in secrets that will eventually take them to where it all started – and may provide the key to saving Oberon and everyone on it.

Get It On Amazon | Universal Buy Link

Print/eBook Links:

Amazon Kindle | Barnes and Noble Nook | Apple Books | Kobo | Payhip | Scribd | Thalia | Smashwords | Vivlio

Giveaway

Scott is giving away a signed print first edition of the trilogy to one lucky winner via this Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47265/?

Audio Excerpt Prologue Excerpt

Xander’s bike flew over the crowded streets of Oberon City. It was midmorning, as far as Jameson could tell from the slanting rays of sunshine over the city.

The wind whipped through his hair, making a rat’s nest of it. He was going to look a mess when he arrived at the OberCorp Headquarters, but there was nothing to be done for it. He mollified himself with the thought that it was the company representative’s fault.

Jameson clung to Xander’s waist, uncomfortable at being so close to the other man, but terrified all the same to loosen his grip. The man’s wings settled in around him like a feathered blanket.

Xander Kinnson had wings—he was a skythane man.

Sure, the whole wings thing had been in the briefing, but reading it and seeing it in person were two very different things. They were beautiful, running up from his shoulder blades into the sky when he had them extended, and powerful. The dark feathers glimmered with an iridescent sheen in the sunlight.

Jameson didn’t think he would have the courage to fly—hoverbike flight was unnerving enough. And yet… wings.

They whipped past heavy armored transports and automated delivery trucks that rode the streets below them, mixed in with pedestrians and even some wagons and rickshaws, as strange an assortment of traffic as he had ever seen in one place.

“We’re going to Oberon Corp Headquarters, right?” he shouted at Xander over the noise. He hated shouting.

“What?” Xander shouted back.

“OberCorp Headquarters?”

“Sorry. Can’t hear you!”

Jameson gave up. He settled in to observe the city around him.

The huge arcos formed a virtual blue metallic wall ahead that began to block out the sunlight as the hoverbike moved closer. They were impressive in their uniformity, reminding him of the statues of Easter Island he’d visited during his trip to Old Earth.

From this vantage point, the city seemed much bigger than it had looked from the shuttle flying in, but outside of the impressive architecture of the arcos, the rest of Oberon City was made up of much less impressive, shorter buildings, with the tallest of these topping out around fifteen stories. They were in varied states of decay, with broken windows and rusted stanchions, some of them overrun by wild vines. The city looked like it was badly in need of an urban renewal project—a few buildings were in such bad shape that Jameson was amazed they hadn’t already collapsed under their own weight.

After about fifteen minutes, Xander’s bike slowly dipped down to the ground, coming to a landing between a couple of low buildings. They arrived at a nondescript three-story, concrete-slab structure that would have fit into almost any urban cityscape. It was made entirely out of prefab plascreet panels like all the other ugly buildings around it.

Xander palmed a sensor next to the metal roll-up door and it chugged up noisily, revealing a storage space maybe three meters wide by about three times that length deep. He pulled the bike inside and parked it, beckoning for Jameson to dismount.

Jameson did as he was told, though he was starting to get worried. When it came right down to it, he knew nothing about this man, having taken Xander at his word that he really was a representative of OberCorp.

How could he know for sure?

The idea nagged at him.

The man might be a pirate who preyed upon unsuspecting arrivals at the immigration center. He certainly fit the profile—standoffish, antisocial, certain he was always right. Jameson had seen that many times before in his practice. Then again, most sociopaths were more social.

At least he’d made it to the city now. It might be best to get out of here and find his own way to OberCorp.

Jameson started to back slowly out of the storage unit, away from Xander. He could make a run for it.

“Stay right there,” Xander said without turning, his voice sharp. “This is a bad part of town. It’s dangerous, especially for off-worlders who don’t know any better.”

Jameson looked out onto the street nervously. Oberon City was a lot grittier at ground level than it had appeared from the shuttle—the pavement looked petrochemical based, and it was uneven and black, so different from the beautiful marble streets back on Beta Tau. Some dark fluid flowed in fits and starts down the gutters, and it gave off a nasty smell: part urine, part hydrocarbons, part rotting food.

He was overdressed for such squalor. “Are there any good parts?” He stepped back inside with a sniff.

Xander snorted. He’d set aside Jameson’s suitcase, and was now rummaging around through some plas containers at the back of the storage unit. He pulled out something and threw it over the back of the bike.

It looked like the saddlebags that Jameson’s parents used with horses on their estate to carry supplies or foodstuffs for picnics or hunting trips into the Holywood.

Xander pulled out a knife and used it to pry open Jameson’s suitcase, setting off the luggage’s alarm. Xander snarled and kicked it until the sound died down to an irritated chirp.

“Hey… what are you doing?” Jameson reached out to stop him, but Xander pushed him back, knife in hand. “You can’t wear that where we’re going.” He indicated Jameson’s clothing with the same disdain Jameson himself had used for the hoverbike. He rummaged through the clothes in the suitcase. “None of this will do.” Xander turned to size Jameson up, head to toe. “I think I have something that will work.” He returned to going through the bins at the back of the unit.

“What do you mean, this won’t do? I’ve met with upper-level management in the Psych Guild on numerous occasions, dressed just like this—”

“We’re not meeting with management.” Xander returned with an armful of clothes. “Here, put these on.”

“I must insist that you take me to OberCorp Headquarters right now and—”

Xander dropped the new clothes on the dirty floor and ripped Jameson’s button-down shirt right up the middle, exposing his bare chest. His wings flared out behind him, and he gave Jameson an evil grin. “Change. Now.”

Jameson tried to stare him down, but there was an angry gleam in the man’s eyes that he decided he didn’t want to challenge. He lowered his eyes and picked up the new clothing. “Is there a place for me to change, at least?” He was not getting naked in front of this barbarian.

Author Bio

Scott lives with his husband Mark in a yellow bungalow in Sacramento. He was indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine. He devoured her library, but as he grew up, he wondered where all the people like him were.

He decided that if there weren’t queer characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.

A Rainbow Award winning author, he runs Queer Sci Fi, QueeRomance Ink, and Other Worlds Ink with Mark, sites that celebrate fiction reflecting queer reality, and is the committee chair for the Indie Authors Committee at the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA).

Author Website: https://www.jscottcoatsworth.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworth

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/jscoatsworth/

Author Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/jscoatsworth

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jscottcoatsworth/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8392709.J_Scott_Coatsworth

Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/

Author Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/J.-Scott-Coatsworth/e/B011AFO4OQ

Nicole Dennis’s “McShane’s Elf” – with giveaway

Nicole Dennis has a new MM fantasy paranormal romance out, McShayne Bloodline book 2: McShayne’s Elf. And there’s a giveaway.

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About the book

A Realm falls to the darkness.

An outcast because of his mixed heritage, Braedyn of the Dark, Captain of the Royal Shields and protector of the Prince of the Southern Woodland Realm, maintains his position through sheer grit and skill. Connected to a hawk familiar, Cerin, his magic is a mixture of Arcane and wielding. At the High King’s orders, he remains by his Prince’s side through a treacherous journey through the Lands to discover answers and a new home.

Losing his Realm, his parents, and his position in one-night, High Prince Conchobar Ó Díomasaigh is completely out of his familiarity. Running for his life, relying only on his protector and Captain, he digs deep to survive their trials, the growing darkness, and go wherever they must to save their Realm. At the same time, he sees his Captain in a different light and the deepening connection between them

Strange adventures. New allies. Growing connections. Can they survive this wild journey to save the elves, the Realm, and their lives?

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About the Series

Magic passed through ancient bloodlines for generations. A powerful family gifted with a blend of Elf, Fae, and Human magic, the McShaynes watched over the balance of nature. While the Otherkin receded from any mortal connection, the McShaynes refuse to leave their ancestral lands. Until the humans turn against magic.

Four McShayne sons spread across the Lands. Each one fears he is the last. They fight to survive the harsh atmosphere, maintain their bloodline gifts, and discover love and the true meaning of family.

Get It at AmazonGiveaway

Nicole is giving away a $10 Amazon gift card with this tour via this Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47273/?

Excerpt

Streaks of fire raced through the sky.

The ground rumbled beneath his feet.

A half-breed elf crouched against the nearest wall to wait out the current round of bombardment.

While the multi-layered and intricate braids denoted all the years of study, training, and practice to gain the skills of an archer, a scout, a tracker, and a soldier, the color of his hair and skin discredited his position. Among the elves of the Southern Woodland Realm, Braedyn of the Dark was an anomaly, a half-breed, and, according to some, not wanted. With every single step or skill he accomplished, he pushed himself even further and harder than everyone around him. Not even the three platinum charms decorating a raven black braid that denoted his position as Captain of the Royal Shields for the High Prince of the Court gained him any support. No matter what anyone said or thought, he continued to perform his duties, going above and beyond to protect his prince and the Realm.

Tonight the elves faced their gravest threat.

Though he should remain behind to protect the Prince, Braedyn followed his King’s orders to moved toward the front lines. His prince understood and allowed him to leave his side to perform his duties and learn what he could. If possible, he would help the defenders. Stepping away, he continued his journey to the barrier walls.

“To the sky!” a look-out shouted to alert everyone.

Ducking under a roof’s edge, Braedyn pressed against the stone and wood while staring at the darkened sky. It was lit by the fires that spread around their beloved Southern Nialam Forest and within the double-walled city. Another series of sharp-tipped arrows flickered while they pierced the night sky.

Screams spread through the darkness. Defenders hit by the arrows. Slain by this unknown enemy.

Braedyn tried to block out the sounds, but he couldn’t.

The invasive attack of the unnatural creatures came out of nowhere and surrounded the double-walled city. Only the small section of sacred western wall against the lowland mountain where the ancestors created the necropolis, the pathway to the Endless Realm, was naturally protected. There was little to no advance warning of these creatures plowing through the forest.

There was a flurry of misguided and scattered action around him from frightened defenders. They never faced this kind of enemy. None of their usual tactics and weapons seem to destroy their enemy, not even push them back. As if the creatures were immune from their natural magic and simple weapons.

A group of young guards fled.

Braedyn waved around his sacred bow, a rare gift of the twin Heartstone Trees. The twisted black and white wooden bow was gifted to the highest skilled archers and personally selected by the Trees. Holding out the bow, he moved it to catch their attention and stop them from fleeing. “Stop! What are you doing? Fleeing from your sworn duty to protect this court, this Realm. Shame upon all of you.”

At the twisted light and dark colored bow, brilliant against the darkness, the young guards slid to a stop.

“A Heartstone bow,” one guard whispered.

“A high archer…”

“Him. It’s him. The half-breed Captain.”

Braedyn ignored the whispers.

“Do you know that one nick of an arrow and you drop dead? Those creatures don’t die. They keep coming out of the forest and night,” one young guard said. “This is why we flee. There is nothing we can do. We must leave the court.”

“All the generals are dead or out of commission. Somehow the enemy knew to find them within the darkness. The outer walls are lost. The southern corner is about to crumble. Some of those creatures are cave trolls or ogres, but it’s like they’re twisted into something else, something far worse. They’re huge. Nothing kills them,” another guard said.

Braedyn looked around at what he could by the walls. He let the words and situation soak into him and roll around. No, they wouldn’t give in and flee. Not this time. Not this battle.

Sons of the Realm. Listen to me.” He spun the bow and tapped the metal end on the ground. He pointed to the guard who spoke first. “What is your name?”

“Geraint Fenkrana, Guard Commander.

“Commander Geraint, I have a new position for all of you,” Braedyn said. “Focus upon me.”

The group turned to face him with Geraint stepping forward. Their faces bright against the darkness with swatches of dirt and soot. The lightness of their hair, skin, and eyes were a contrast against him, but they didn’t look upon him with hatred or disgust. Not any longer because he continued to stand against the fearsome enemy that threatened their home and lives. They desired leadership and he fulfilled it.

Author Bio

Dreamy…Sensual…Forever Love

A quiet one, Nicole Dennis is the penname of an asexual author of different genres of fiction – both LGBT+ and hetero. Lots of characters, worlds, and stories build up in her head until she must get them down on the screen – anything from romance to fantasy to paranormal.

During the day, she works in a quiet office in Central Florida, where she makes her home, and enjoys the down time to slip into her imagination. She is owned by a new feline companion – a house panther, affectionately known as Brat Cat.

Author Website: http://nicoledennis.net

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/NicoleDennis.Author

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/NicoleDennis.Musings/

Author Mastadon: https://mastodon.lol/@nicoledennis

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2791975.Nicole_Dennis

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/nicole-dennis/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/nicoledennis

Layla Dorine’s “Outlaw Redeemed” – with giveaway

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Layla Dorine has a new MM paranormal wolf shifter book out (gay, gender-fluid, intersex), Comet Lake Chronicles book 3: Outlaw Redeemed. And there’s a giveaway!

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About the book

Traditionally, rejecting a mate means walking away. It’s a simple thing, really, painless, except for frayed emotions and a bit of friction between families. In the history of Comet Lake, it’s never led to the level of bloodshed that comes when Emery’s mate, Tobias, decides he doesn’t want him. Not only are feelings hurt, but Emery’s life is left hanging by a thread and Onyx, the mate he finds on the same day his other rejects him, emerges from the encounter pissed off and looking for revenge.

He’ll have to wait though.

Things are brewing around Comet Lake. Things the pack has never had to deal with. There are wolves on their land that don’t belong there. Scents and footprints in the forest that don’t match any enrolled members of their pack. Intruders. Unseen invaders who slink between trees and watch from the shadows.

In addition, the Howling Devils have returned. The motorcycle club, which Onyx has long belonged to, was formed two decades before to protect the Comet Lake pack, only now it’s grown into something more. A family ready to settle in and do what family does. Stay. These loyal outlaws, brave and strong, are so unlike the outlaw club that Emery once belonged to he’s got no way to relate.

Too bad the wolves around them believe otherwise, insisting that the fates brought Emery and Tobias to Comet Lake to help unravel truth and lies, if they can get past their own history. Unfortunately, the only thing they see it as is punishment for being who they were born to be. Can they move past the legacy of hatred and violence that threatens to reclaim them and if so, are they each destined to become an Outlaw Redeemed?

Warnings: Violence.

 

Universal Buy Link

 

 

Giveaway

Layla is offering a free ebook copy of the first book, Waiting for Raine through this Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47272/?

 

 

Excerpt

 

 

 

Emery, are you illiterate, or just too stupid to understand when someone wants nothing at all to do with you?

Hands shoved in his pockets, Emery stared down at the neon orange words painted in the brilliant white snow, his heart hammering erratically while other wolves gave a wide berth as they passed. A few snickered, but one called out to him: “Give it up, man. It’s beyond sad now.”

The wolf was right, and Emery knew it. He’d managed two weeks without leaving another note for his mate to find. But late last night, after the snow stopped and the rest of the town was silent, he’d crept back to the square. With the way the weather had been changing lately, it was probably the final snow of the season, his last chance to leave a message in what he was coming to think of as “their spot.” A glutton for punishment, that’s what he was. The whole time he was painting his question in the snow, he’d told himself he was being an absolute fool by hoping his mate had reconsidered wanting to meet him.

That message had been drawn through with several angry black lines and stomped with heavy bootprints—clearly conveying his mate’s state of mind. The wolf wasn’t just annoyed now, but angry that Emery kept trying to get to know them, which was made perfectly clear by the second line of his response.

If you were the only other wolf left in the universe, I’d choose to die alone rather than ever spend a single second in your company. Now leave me the fuck alone before I tell the people you’re running from where you are and how to find you.

Shaking, Emery felt the first stirrings of a panic attack kicking in. He knew. His mate knew who he really was. Kicking at the snow, he scattered it, destroying the message, and leaving little more than splatters of orange randomly dotting the trampled mess. Glancing around, he saw several wolves watching from the sidewalks, others with their heads together, whispering. At least they stopped short of pointing at him.

Some faces he recognized; others he didn’t, and one…

He couldn’t breathe. Clawing at the zipper of his coat, he tried to undo it, but his field of vision was narrowing, and his hands fumbled like he forgot what to do. Finally, he just yanked it off over his head, nearly choking himself in his haste. The T-shirt he wore beneath offered no real protection from the elements, not that he cared, as he let the coat slip from his fingers.

Blinking, he struggled to focus, telling himself there was no way in hell the wolf watching from the sidewalk was Sydney. Sy was dead. There was no coming back from getting one’s head taken off by a tow chain.

Logic wasn’t enough to slow his heartbeat or still the twitching in his fingers and the panicked urge to run and hide somewhere no one would think to look for him. Even when the guy moved and sunlight struck his hair, showing the shades of reds and golds shimmering in brown strands that weren’t dull like Emery’s, but alive with colors, it was difficult to separate what he was seeing from his memories.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

The voice in his ear, and the soft touch on his arm? Now that grounded him. Only one person in his life had ever sounded like that, and he was grateful as hell for Zane’s appearance now. The small wolf picked up his coat and handed it back to him. Emery hugged it to his chest when he did. He’d have stood there like his feet were glued to the spot if Zane hadn’t taken charge and steered him away from the square and the remnants of those words.

Zane said nothing as they walked. He just steered Emery down the street and around the corner, directing him the whole four blocks back to the apartment he and Dalton shared, which was a good thing because Emery couldn’t manage to get his brain to kick in gear and take over. Even inside, it was Zane who propelled him to sit at the kitchen table, Zane who put the kettle on for tea, and Zane who hung up both their jackets before getting the mugs ready. His one pause was to pull out his cell phone and type out a simple text, probably to his mates.

“They threatened to tell the Outlaws how to find me,” Emery said softly. “In their message in the snow, they said to leave them alone, or they’d tell the people I was running from how to find me.”

 

 

Author Bio

 

LAYLA DORINE lives among the sprawling prairies of Midwestern America, in a house with more cats than people. She loves hiking, fishing, swimming, martial arts, camping out, photography, cooking, and she traveling to visit museums, historic, and haunted places.

Layla got hooked on writing as a child and she hasn’t stopped writing since. Hard times, troubled times, the lives of her characters are never easy, but then what life is? The story is in the struggle, the journey, the triumphs and the falls. She writes about artists, musicians, loners, drifters, dreamers, hippies, bikers, truckers, hunters and all the other folks that she’s met and fallen in love with over the years. Sometimes she writes urban romance and sometimes its aliens crash landing near a roadside bar. When she isn’t writing, or wandering somewhere outdoors, she can often be found curled up with a good book and a kitty on her lap.

 

Author Website: https://layladorine13.wixsite.com/layladorineauthor

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/LaylaDorine13

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9814124.Layla_Dorine

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Layla-Dorine/e/B01IRRLBNW/