Cameron D. James's Blog, page 16

The Wolves of Daos 5 by Rebecca James (Book Blitz)

Greetings, readers! Today we have Rebecca James’s new book, The Wolves of Daos 5! Read on for the blurb, cover, excerpt, and giveaway!

Blurb:

Michael has wrestled with anxiety his entire life, and finding out he’s half-werewolf doesn’t help matters. When bond-mate, Quinn, takes Michael to the werewolf colony, Michael finds more surprises in store for him, and some may be more than he can handle.

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Purchase: Amazon | All Romance eBooks | Smashwords

Excerpt:

Looking over his shoulder as they walked, Michael saw that the milling crowd that had been gathering at the palace gates now filed in behind them, as though they’d been waiting for Quinn and Michael’s arrival in order to be admitted. Looking ahead, a vast courtyard lay before them with pruned hedges and extensive gardens that had been cut back in preparation for the coming winter. Michael’s heart picked up when he spotted what appeared to be several huge lizards lounging in the inner courtyard near the front of the palace where he and Quinn were not, thankfully, headed.

“Komodo dragons?” Michael asked.

“What? Oh, yes. We brought them here from Indonesia. Very effective deterrents to trespassers.”

“I’ll bet.” Michael stared at the frightening creatures.

“This way,” Quinn said, setting off toward the side, passing through an archway and along an ivy-covered wall where two guards led three chained and naked men headed for a door leading away from the main part of the stone structure. Quinn propelled Michael toward a larger iron door at the far end of the narrow lane. Michael couldn’t help but stare at the men. Were they slaves? They certainly appeared to be, with their dirty appearance and hands and feet manacled and the long chain connecting them one to the other.

“Prisoners,” Quinn said, as though answering Michael’s unasked question. Sometimes he really did seem to read Michael’s mind. “Escor. Scum.”

The corridor leading to the door was narrow and crowded. Quinn wrapped his arm around Michael’s waist and maneuvered them through, while Michael continued to stare at the prisoners. He’d never seen anyone like them; completely hairless, lacking even eyebrows and lashes, with long, slim feet and oddly-shaped heads. Two large werewolves wearing red tangas and brandishing curved sticks urged the prisoners along. As Quinn and Michael passed the line of men, one looked directly at Michael, his silver eyes with dark, vertical pupils reminding Michael of a snake. Michael thought they must be contact lenses—he’d seen some that gave a similar effect. As Michael returned the gaze, quick as lightning, the man’s tongue darted out, thin and forked, touching Michael on the arm at the same time that Atlas yelled and pulled Michael backward until his shoulder hit the opposite wall. Quinn threw himself at the prisoner, his hands around the man’s thick throat.

About the Author:

Rebecca James writes m/m and m/m/m romance in the contemporary, paranormal, and sci-fi genres. Writing has been her passion since childhood, but it wasn’t until recently that she got up the courage to publish. She lives in the southern United States with her husband and three children.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Email

Giveaway:

Click here to visit Rafflecopter and enter to win an ebook of your choice from Rebecca’s backlist!

Immortal Watch by Olivia Helling (Book Blitz)

Good morning book lovers! Today’s book blitz is Immortal Watch by Olivia Helling! Read on for the blurb, cover, and excerpt!

Blurb:

Bonded soul mates. Shocking secrets. Protecting the one he loves could destroy everything…

Ilyas defeated the Dark God and won the spoils of a lifetime: a new kingdom, a new soulmate, and a chance at revenge. Just when he has the chance to humiliate the brother who sold him out, Ilyas learns a closely-guarded secret. He has a son, and now he’ll do everything he can to protect him.

Jem’s life was pure loneliness before he met Ilyas. But with the Dark God thwarted, Jem is completely powerless. When Ilyas begins to devote his full attention to the baby, Jem becomes determined to win his soulmate back.

After allying with a powerful secret society, Jem conspires to deliver an uninhabited world where Ilyas’ young son can truly be safe. But Jem didn’t realize that his new alliance comes at a high price, one that may cost him the love of Ilyas forever.

Immortal Watch is a spellbinding LGBT dark fantasy novel. If you like rich world-building, captivating storytelling, and edge-of-your-seat action, then you’ll love this story of love and horror from Olivia Helling.

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Purchase at: Amazon | All Romance eBooks | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iTunes

Excerpt:

Ilyas cocked his head. “Is something wrong?”

I breathed deep to avoid stuttering. “What would be wrong?”

“Just that I miss that smile of yours.” Ilyas smiled in turn.

For a heartbeat, I expected him to clasp my cheek, to draw me close, to envelop me in an embrace, to kiss me breathless, like he had when I had awoken to find myself his tawam rohi . Ilyas closed the display box and returned it to the drawer under the berth.

I exhaled. Of course not. Ilyas had promised to teach me all about kissing, and more, but he’d spoken in the heat of the moment when I’d awoken. Perhaps the fantasy of teaching me excited him more than the reality. My stomach sank.

After all, I wasn’t a eunuch. When Ilyas had still been the prince heir of Nuriya, his harem full of buxom ladies and eager lads, the male form hadn’t seemed to displease him. So long as they were eunuchs, not proper men, as Nuriyite decorum dictated. Nuriyites heaped rules upon everything from eating to sex. Lumians didn’t care, especially when sex wouldn’t provide more mouths to feed.

Or perhaps the fault lay in me, as a person.

Ilyas sank onto the berth with a big sigh. His features seemed drawn and stressed. I perched on the bed next to him, reaching to pet his hair. He groaned, and I froze.

I wanted more. I wanted to learn how to kiss. I wanted to learn how to wrap my thighs around his waist. I wanted—

“It will be fine, Jem,” he said.

I never used to be so selfish. He shouldered the fate of Lumi, and I couldn’t help him. All I did was lie wide awake at night, planning to demand more from him, planning to distract him.

“We can play a game of Go,” he said. “And I will wipe the deck with you this time.”

“Like the last eleven times?” I teased him.

“This one is my game.”

About the Author:

Olivia Helling doesn’t believe in love at first sight… but maybe, just maybe, it blossoms along a few books. That is, after all, how she fell in love with her husband.

Olivia writes about the darkness and flaws from within, the struggle with self-confidence, self-perception and fear of failure, and fantasy and historical worlds that refuse to allow love between men. So be warned: happily ever after is not guaranteed.

The protagonist and love interest don’t always end up together by the end of one book. But when they finally come together, their love will be a thing of beauty.

Want to stay up-to-date on Olivia’s latest books? Sign up for her newsletter at: http://oliviahelling.com/snowmancer-emails

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Call for Submissions: Deep Desires Press

If you’ve been following my fortnightly posts over at Oh Get a Grip!, you’ve no doubt heard me mention a few times that I was in the process of helping to start up a small publishing house for erotica and erotic romance.

Well… the day is finally here!

Deep Desires Press, which was co-founded by myself and a small team of authors and editors who are dedicated to bringing readers the very best in erotic fiction, is now open for submissions!

I’ve had many people ask me why I would start up a publishing house in the age of self-publishing, especially since most of my platform is self-published. Well, the simple truth is that self-publishing is not for everyone. Nor do I believe that authors are necessarily better off with a 100% self-published catalogue.

Many authors nowadays invest their time and energy in building a hybrid platform, one that features both self-published titles and traditionally-published titles. Self-publishing requires that the author hire an editor and cover artist, as well as do all the formatting and marketing themselves. However, self-published authors keep all the royalties. Traditionally-published authors give up a certain percentage of their royalties, but in return get editing, cover art, and marketing support. Books published through a publisher are likely to reach a different market than books that are self-published, just by the simple fact that a publisher would have a different collection of followers on social media than the author, which helps open up sales opportunities. A self-published author may, in fact, increase the sales of their self-published books by releasing a few titles through a publisher and attracting new readers. (Of course, there are never any guarantee of sales in the book industry.)

However, the main reason that I’ve pushed to start up this company is that I love the process of publishing and marketing books as much as I love the process of writing them — and I’ve come across several authors who either don’t have the skills and knowledge to self-publish, or simply don’t have the time. While self-publishing is flourishing, it is obviously not for everyone.

If you’d like to learn more of the details about Deep Desires Press and what sets us apart from competitors, click here to visit our FAQ page and click here to visit our About page.

We’d also love if you connected with us on social media! We’re currently on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. Our feeds are a little slow right now because we’re in the initial stages of opening up for business — so they’ll get busier as the business progresses!

If you’re a reader, we’d love for you to join our newsletter — the sign up form is found at the bottom of every page on our website.

And if you’re an author, we’d love to take a look at some of your dirty stories! Read on for our current Call for Submissions!

Call for Submissions

Deep Desires Press

Deep Desires Press is a new publisher of erotica and high-heat-level erotic romance. We focus on quality rather than quantity – we would much rather have a handful of top-notch stories than a full catalogue of mediocre books. Our main goal is to excite the reader, to take their imagination into the most erotic of scenarios. We expect to launch in the winter of 2016/2017 and are currently seeking submissions in the categories listed below.

Authors will earn 50% royalties (after the vendor takes its cut) and will receive full editing, cover art, and marketing support from Deep Desires Press. Submissions are expected to be well-written, well-edited, and reasonably error-free.

First, a few general details:

Genres: We are seeking all genres and subgenres of erotica and erotic romance. This includes contemporary, paranormal, LGBTQ+, BDSM, historical, sci-fi, fantasy, etc.

Pairings: We are seeking stories featuring any pairing – MF, MM, FF, group/ménage/multiple partner, and we are inclusive of trans*-identified characters.

Wish List: While we are open to any and all submissions that meet the criteria of this Call For Submissions, we are particularly keen on submissions that reflect real life, including, but not limited to, multi-racial casts of characters, accurate depictions of LGBTQ+ relationships and sex, and settings outside of Canada and USA.

Banned Content: We will not accept submissions containing underage characters in sexual situations, bestiality, necrophilia, yellow play, brown play, incest, pseudo-incest, non-con, dub-con, or rel-con.

Social Media and Self-Promotion: Authors are expected to have at least two mediums for self-promotion, such as Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr, newsletter, Pinterest, blog, website, Google+, etc. When submitting, please include relevant links in your query letter. In the case of a newsletter, please include the current number of subscribers.

Rights: Deep Desires Press will seek ebook, print, and audio rights from the author. However, at present, we are expecting to publish in ebook-format only. Contracts are for three years from publication, renewed on an annual basis thereafter.

New Content: We are primarily looking for new works only. However, if your work has been previously published and you currently hold full rights, we will consider these works on a case-by-case basis.

What we’re looking for:

 

Length: Short Stories (5,000 – 10,000 words)

Genre: Erotica

Need: High

Details: We are seeking erotica short stories that feature at least one intense sex scene, as well as an engaging framing story. In particular, we are looking for stories that contain series potential from authors who can maintain a fairly regular output. If your story has series potential and you know where subsequent stories will venture, please include this in your query letter.

 

Length: Novellas (10,001 – 25,000 words)

Genre: Erotica, Erotic Romance

Need: High

Details: We are seeking novellas that feature multiple sex scenes with an engaging storyline. Erotic romance novellas must have a “happily ever after” or “happy for now” ending. While we would prefer stories with series potential, this is not necessary.

 

Length: Novels (25,001 words and up)

Genre: Erotica, Erotic Romance

Need: Low

Details: We are primarily focusing on short stories and novellas, but we are always open to a novel-length manuscript that catches our attention. Erotic romance novels must have a “happily ever after” or “happy for now” ending.

 

How to submit:

Please query via email to submissions@deepdesirespress.com, following the guidelines below:

In the body of your email, please include a brief query letter outlining who you are, what your book is about, the length of your book, your plans for sequels (if any), and relevant social media links. For novellas and novels, please also include a synopsis of your work in the body of your email, below your letter.

Please attach your story, novella, or novel to the email as a Word file (doc or docx). Documents should be double-spaced with one-inch margins and in Times New Roman 12-point font.

At present, response time is within one to two weeks.

For more information:

For more information on Deep Desires Press, please visit our website at www.deepdesirespress.com or email us at submissions@deepdesirespress.com.

Thank you for your interest.

Prison Pleasures by Angelo Biggs (Book Blitz)

Good morning book lovers! Today I’m excited to feature Prison Pleasures by Angelo Biggs! Read on for the blurb, cover, and sexy excerpt!

Blurb:

Matteo is a reformed criminal currently serving a long prison sentence. When twenty four year old Billy, a new arrival, starts asking him for commissary loans, Matteo realizes that the young guy is purposely trying to get in over his head. Although Billy has a tough demeanor, he lets Matteo know in his own cryptic way that he’s gay and eager to explore some ‘prison pleasures’. Before long, Matteo and his muscular Brazilian friend Luiz both find themselves heading towards sizzling encounters with the sexy young man.

‘Prison Pleasures’ is the first entry in ‘MM Inmate Desires’, a new series of gay erotica ebooks.

Purchase at: Amazon (US) | Amazon (UK)

Excerpt:

Our eyes locked. I let my hands run down his chest, tugging at his shirt then smacking him lightly against his modest but firm pecs. “Strip.”

For the first time since we’d met, I saw a hint of fear melt into his smug expression as he removed his tank top. Then he pulled off his pants and socks, leaving his underwear on. I dropped my head and rolled my eyes at him. After a short hesitation, he squiggled out of his undies then stood up straight.

I reached out and cupped his package, grabbing it just tightly enough to drag him flush to my body. “Did you clean your hole like I told you?”

“Yes,” he said, the fear now fully outpacing his ability to front any coolness.

“Good.” I tightened my hand around his warm junk. “Now this is your last chance to say no. I’m going to back away from here. When that big Brazilian fucker comes in, he owns you until he’s good and done. You understand?”

Billy nodded.

“Let me hear you say it.”

“I want this.” The way he said it, I knew Billy was through playing games.

I stepped away from him.

Luiz gave me a cocky grin as he passed by. I grabbed his bicep and pulled him near. “You gotta work him open,” I whispered, then handed him a clean pair of socks with a tube of lube stuffed inside.

About the Author:

Angelo Biggs loves reading erotica so much he decided to start writing some of his own! MM Inmate Desires is his first series. The characters in all of his ebooks will evolve in interesting ways while also having epic erotic encounters! (Warning: You might need a shower after reading a Biggs book!) When he’s not in Miami, or traveling to sunny vacation spots, Angelo resides in San Francisco.

Jonathan Asche – Author Interview

Good morning book-lovers!

Today we have erotic author Jonathan Asche here for an interview. Jonathan’s new book, Dyre, is now available on Amazon.

Please welcome Jonathan Asche!

Tell us about your new novel, Dyre.

Dyre is the story of Gene Esley, the surviving partner of a successful Atlanta real estate developer. It’s while Gene is staying at his house in the mountains of Ardenville—a fictional stand-in for Asheville, North Carolina—that he meets Dyre. Dyre is the ultimate fantasy man, and the perfect diversion for a rich, middle-aged man who’s wrestling with feelings of loneliness and guilt. The sex is awesome, but things gradually become darker as Gene suspects Dyre may be motivated by more than lust or love. Soon he’s not only questioning his relationship with Dyre, the life he shared with Geoffrey, his late partner, and even his own sanity.

What was your inspiration for Dyre?

The 1969 movie Paranoia was probably the biggest inspiration. In that movie Carroll Baker plays this wealthy widow who’s seduced by a young drifter, played by Lou Castel. Later, the drifter’s sexy sister joins them, and soon the widow’s days are a blur of drugs, alcohol and fucking these scheming siblings. It’s one of my favorite movies and I wanted to put a gay spin on it.

Dyre is your third book – what have you learned or what has changed about your writing or how you approach it over those years?

I certainly put a lot more thought into the writing now. When I wrote my first novel, Mindjacker, I approached it as nothing more than a stroke book. That’s not to say I wasn’t concerned about character development or plot, but the story was largely designed to take the reader from one sexual scenario to the next. Then I was at the Saints & Sinners Literary Festival in New Orleans the following year, and I was scheduled to read from Mindjacker, sharing the stage with a more established writers like Dominic Santi. Though I didn’t embarrass myself too badly, I felt so undeserving to be in their company. After that I was determined to approach my writing more seriously, even if I was writing smut. My follow-up novel, Moneyshots, had a far more complex story and the writing was stronger, if I do say so myself. Both Moneyshots and Dyre follow the same rhythms of mainstream thrillers—backed by the steady percussion of explicit, man-on-man action, of course.

How has the business of writing and publishing erotic fiction changed over the years?

Erotic fiction has always been the bastard child of the literary world. Still, in the past someone wanting to write in that genre had a lot more venues in which to publish their work. There were even publishers that specialized in erotica, like Bad Boy Books. I published my first porn short story in 1993, in Torso magazine. For the remainder of the ̓90s and the early ̓oughts I sold stories to various gay skin magazines—Honcho, In Touch for Men, Mandate, Playguy. When I published my first book it got reviewed in one of those magazines and that helped immensely. An ad placed in Advocate Men helped, too.

Then those magazines started going away, so I focused on writing for erotic anthologies like Cleis Press’ Best Gay Erotica series. Writing for the anthologies always seemed a bit more highbrow, and getting accepted in one always made me feel a little more respectable, like I had arrived. Also, the expectations were higher so that really helped push me as a writer. Not that the skin mags would publish any ol’ thing I banged out, but those relied more on formula. That said, I missed the magazine money. Not that anyone writes gay porn to get rich, but to put it in perspective: I could get $150-$200 per story when I wrote for magazines; an erotic anthology usually pays $50-$75.

The options are a lot more limited today, especially if you want to get paid for your work. There are still gay anthologies to contribute to, but not as many as there once were, and publishers targeting the gay market only publish so many erotic titles a year. That leaves self-publishing, which has exploded over the past few years. Today a writer can sell his or her story directly to readers on Amazon, but good luck reaching readers. It’s easy to get lost in the vastness of the internet.

How has the readership changed?

I was surprised at how many women read gay erotica. I’m sure this isn’t a new phenomenon, but it’s an audience that’s a lot more visible now. It makes sense, I suppose, since guys are more likely to seek visual stimulation on the web. Women are more willing to use their imaginations.

But the female audience can be a tough one. When Mindjacker was published in 2003, the initial response was from male readers and the response was largely positive. Over time, I noticed more women were posting reviews of the book online, and their reviews were more critical. More than a couple complained that Mindjacker had too many sex scenes. Too many sex scenes in an erotic novel—I couldn’t wrap my head around that one. Another female reviewer took issue with the main character’s power to possess men’s minds and will them to sexually gratify him, writing that what he was doing was tantamount to rape. While she wasn’t incorrect, I thought she was over-thinking it. I only wanted guys to jack off reading Mindjacker. I certainly wasn’t prepared for it to be reviewed from a feminist perspective.

I think Dyre should have a little broader appeal—at least among those who read gay erotica. There is a much stronger story, and not every chapter is an excuse for a sex scene. That said, while this book has fewer sex scenes than Mindjacker or Moneyshots, some of those sex scenes are a bit more extreme than those in my previous books.

What are the challenges (and rewards) of self-publishing?

The biggest challenge is promoting your work. Just putting your book on Amazon is no guarantee people will read it, so much of my spare time is spent trying to build an audience on social media and think up creative ways to attract potential readers. It’s been quite the learning experience.

Another challenge is all the prep work involved. I had to make things more difficult by creating my own imprint, J. Tom Books, and handling the details involved with that: forming an LLC, getting a business account, building a website. Then there was the matter of editing. I hired someone to edit, of course, but when he returned the edited manuscript I had to fuck with it some more. I was confident that my copy was pretty clean even if the story wasn’t, so I sent the manuscript off for printing. Well, when I got the initial proof copies back from the printer I gave one to my husband and asked him to skim through it for anything that was missed. He caught an error in the first sentence, which I had re-written since it had been professionally edited. The smart thing to do would have been to give the manuscript to my husband first, then turn it over to the pro. That’s the problem with the “smart thing”: it’s so obvious it’s easily overlooked.

But these challenges are also rewarding. When my books were being put out by a small publisher most of the work was falling on me, the author, anyway, so why not eliminate the middle man? I’m a graphic designer by trade, so I knew I could design an attractive cover, as well as format an interior that looked like something put out by an established publishing house. That’s the paperback, mind you. Formatting the digital edition was something else entirely. Nevertheless, I like being in control of the whole process, despite the extra work and my mistakes.

If you could expose one myth about erotic fiction authors, what would it be? And what’s the truth?

That writers of erotic fiction do so because they can’t write. In truth, a lot of mainstream authors have written “dirty” books: Harlan Ellison, Donald Westlake, Iris Owens and Lawrence Block, to name a few. And Anne Rice wrote a series of BDSM-themed books—The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty, Beauty’s Punishment, etcetera—under the pseudonym A. N. Roquelaure.

What’s been the most difficult aspect of writing (either in writing Dyre or in general)?

Finding time to do it!

What’s been the most rewarding experience from writing (either with regards to Dyre or in general)?

I love telling stories. Seeing a story develop from the first chapter to the last is always a thrill. A writer can be as surprised by what develops in writing a book as a reader is reading it. Dyre’s final chapters are nothing like what I initially planned when I was working on the early chapters.

What’s next for you? Another erotic novel? Something else?

While I’ve enjoyed writing erotica, I want to move on to more mainstream genres. I’m returning to the novel I had started writing before I got the idea to write and self-publish Dyre. It’s a serio-comic Southern soap opera that takes a lot of its inspiration from the Mississippi town where I lived when I was in high school. I plan to re-release Moneyshots under the J. Tom Books imprint in the interim.

Wow — lots going on in your writing world! I look forward to seeing how your writing career unfolds!

Thanks for stopping by and sharing about Dyre and about your writing career so far.

Dyre is available in both ebook and print at Amazon.

A Kind of Honesty by Lane Hayes (Cover Reveal)

Good morning blog-followers! Today we’ve got the cover reveal for Lane Hayes’s hot new book, A Kind of Honesty! Read on for the hot cover, blurb, excerpt, and giveaway!

Blurb:

Music is Tim Chalmers’s great escape and the one thing that’s never let him down. But his band Spiral’s meteoric rise to fame has made it difficult for the drummer to maintain a low profile. Unwanted press pesters him after a public breakup with a volatile ex-girlfriend who loves the limelight as much as he loathes it. Tim’s main goal is to avoid confrontation. However, when he meets a handsome stranger in a dive bar who turns out to be someone he may know, everything changes.

Carter Hamilton-Temple might be a successful financial consultant with more brains, sophistication, and charm than most, but he always falls for the wrong guys: closet cases or men with issues. He can’t fight his attraction to the tattooed rock star, but can he trust his own judgment? When the thrill of danger combined with a fierce physical connection proves too strong for either man to resist, a quiet liaison away from the public eye and curious friends seems like a safe bet. But some secrets are hard to keep. When rumors threaten to rock his world, Tim realizes it’s time to confront his fear with his own kind of honesty.

Pre-Order: eBook | Paperback

Excerpt:

“What kind of a rock star are you? You’re supposed to love sex, drugs, and alcohol. I haven’t known you long, but you seem to only really like one out of three,” Carter commented idly as he shuffled the cards.

“You’re right. I’m a sucky rock star. I rarely have more than one drink when I go out for dinner or even at a bar. Two at a party. Anything more usually leads to trouble. And I never take drugs. Even cold medicine makes me nervous.” I winked and gave him a lecherous grin that no doubt looked far from provocative in my current condition. “But I love sex.”

About the Author:

Lane Hayes is finally doing what she loves best. Writing! An avid reader from an early age, Lane has always been drawn to romance novels. She truly believes there is nothing more inspiring than a well-told love story with beautifully written characters. Lane discovered the M/M genre a fews ago and was instantly hooked. Her first novel was a finalist in the 2013 Rainbow Awards. She is the bestselling author of the Better Than Stories series and Right and Wrong Stories and the new A Kind of Stories series. She loves travel, chocolate, and wine (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband in an almost empty nest.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | email | Instagram | Amazon

Giveaway:

Click here to visit Rafflecopter and enter to win a $10 gift card for Amazon!

J. Phillip Elwes – Author Interview

My guest on the blog today is erotic author J. Phillip Elwes — he’s here to talk about his new book, Pyewacket, Pyewacket!

Over the weekend, I had a chance to chat with J. Phillip — here’s our conversation:

Tell us about Pyewacket, Pyewacket.

This is the blurb:

Pyewacket, Pyewacket is a gay erotic, paranormal thriller about nineteen-year-old Grant Webb, who must leave his remote fishing town in northeastern Canada to search for his grandmother reported missing in Vallejo, California. On his first night in town, Grant questions his grip on reality, as he has an otherworldly encounter. When he inadvertently casts a spell to locate his grandmother, he realizes he’s a fledgling warlock. To save his grandmother, he joins other warlocks and witches in an epic battle against an ancient evil, that, at long last, has within its reach its most coveted prize, Grant himself.

I’d also add that it is certainly about magic and sexuality, but even more about the transformative power of love, as Grant discovers his true self on the battlefield.

Sounds super interesting! What was your inspiration for this book?

The story popped into my head in late December, 2015, when I was between gigs and thought I’d be spending the next two weeks working on an entirely different gay erotic story.

Earlier that summer in San Francisco’s Mission District, I’d almost daily walked past street art depicting a boy wearing a gas mask, around which were the words: “I am the beat of a thousand purple butterflies.” I’d slow down to read those words and, even after the art piece had been painted over, kept wondering what it was saying.

Around that same time, I saw photographs taken in the 1850’s of California’s old State Capitol building in Vallejo, a town about 30 miles north of San Francisco. I’ve been to the Vallejo Transit Center in downtown Vallejo, where the enormous building had once stood. A plaque embedded in the sidewalk there marks the building’s former location. I read online that the building burned to the ground under mysterious circumstances in the early morning hours of April 20, 1859.

I thought nothing else of this until the end of 2015, when I was on Tumblr and stumbled upon a fashion spread of male models nearly covered from head to toe in beautiful tattoos. I instantly recalled the mysterious fate of the old State Capitol building and wondered how men like these might be involved. All of my stories–gay erotica and otherwise–center on the pivotal transformation of the main character. I wanted my first novel-length, gay erotic story to be on a grand scale. And, suddenly, I knew how men like these were going to be a part of that story: immortal warlocks battling each other and magical creatures!

The inspiration for how the book itself is written comes from a dream I had years ago. In it, I was watching a crowd of people, then narrating aloud what each person was doing just before I saw my hand writing down on a page in a book what everyone was doing. That might sound like a typical dream for a writer, but that “transitional” imagery has stayed with me. And that is how Grant narrates Pyewacket, Pyewacket.

How does this differ from what you’ve written before?

It’s my first gay erotic story featuring magic, which is one of my great passions. My parents observed when I was quite young that I was obsessed with any movie or TV show featuring magic. I love that the addition of magical elements has the ability to elevate a story to a grand scale. Pyewacket, Pyewacket is certainly about a battle between good and evil magical forces, but it is even more about the search for love and the transformative power of love.

At thirteen chapters, it is my first novel. I enjoyed being with Grant for over half a year to write his story.

I know you have experience in other forms of writing, including screenplay writing–How has this other experience influenced writing gay erotic fiction?

Writing screenplays, which must be formatted in a very particular manner, helped me find my voice as a writer, frankly. Screenplays have a word limit around 10,000 words. They are very visual: you only see and hear what happens in a film. As a screenwriter, I learned to strip away any ornamental aspirations I had as a writer and to hone my style until I could precisely describe what was happening moment by moment, from start to end, to tell a story.

With screenplays, I regularly bumped against that word count of 10,000 words until it dawned on me one day to tell a story in as few words as possible.

I like to think that’s now my writing style with screenplays, my gay erotic stories and everything I write, actually.

Can you give us a glimpse of one of the sexiest scenes in this book?

There are quite a few sexy scenes in Pyewacket, Pyewacket.

You can read here (http://jpelwes.tumblr.com/post/149767992862/pyewacket-pyewacket) on my Tumblr the entire first chapter, in which Grant has his first sexual encounter, which happens to be with the greatest pitcher in the history of professional baseball. In the next chapter, Grant is rescued from an embarrassing situation by a nice fellow. They get to know one another and have a couple of sexy scenes throughout the day. Grant’s encounter with the baseball player has made him wonder if his trip to Vallejo is making him unstable. At the end of his first day in Vallejo, he falls asleep alone in bed at his grandmother’s house. And this happens next:

I awoke later that night to a motorcycle rumbling on York Street.

When I realized it was idling outside the house, I slipped out of bed to peek past the gauzy curtain covering the wide bay window.

My heart skipped a beat, when I spotted directly across the street a man seated on a bike parked in the white circle of a street lamp. I watched him pull off his helmet and look up and down the street, like he was trying to remember something. He had cropped, blond hair, a high forehead, straight nose, and bushy beard. His mustache hid his lips. He strongly resembled the rugged fishermen I enjoyed watching come ashore in Cow Head.

The man turned his head to peer up at me in the window.

Surprised, I took a step back, though I was certain he couldn’t see me.

He again looked up and down the street, switched off his bike, then rose off his seat long enough to dip his hand down the front of his blue jeans to adjust himself.

At that, my cock instantly erected, popping out of the fly of my boxers.

Is everyone horny as fuck in California? I wondered, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. Or is it just Vallejo?

When he looked back up at my window, I giddily pushed aside the curtain before I knew what I was doing. I bent over to slip off my boxers, then straightened up, naked and hard for his viewing pleasure, somehow certain he was as aroused as me.

He squared his shoulders and put his helmet down on the bike’s fuel tank, his eyes never leaving me.

When he gave me an encouraging nod, I lost my mind. I furiously jacked off. I closed my eyes and imagined him sliding off his motorcycle to march across the street and run up the stairs to my bedroom.

His blue eyes never left mine, as he wordlessly stripped out of his clothes to stand naked and rock hard with me. He was a head taller and very muscular. He looked more than twice my age and was hands down the most handsome man I’d stood in the same room with.

He noisily tried to catch his breath, while I ran my hands over his hairy abdomen and chest. His red nipples fully erected under my swirling fingertips. He obligingly flexed his biceps, while I ran my hands over them. I was delighted by his hairy forearms and the coarse thicket of hair in his armpits.

He turned his head to watch over his shoulder, as I walked around him to draw my fingers over the rippling muscles of his back, over the twin globes of his pale ass. I traced my finger along his hairy ass crack to touch his anus a moment before he turned around to face me.

He kneaded my shoulders in his fists and stared into my eyes.

I took him by the testicles, exploring his heavy scrotum with relish, and watched his rigid, uncircumcised cock jounce this way and that. Now most certainly a connoisseur of cock, I had no trouble appreciating the veins crisscrossing his thick shaft, the shapeliness of his very red, very shiny crown. I found his surprisingly large piss slit so appealing, I wanted to lick it to coax out his pre-cum.

I tightened my grip around his testicles at the same time I ran my other hand through his dense, unkempt triangle of pubic hair.

He lowered his hand to make a fist around my throbbing erection at the same time I closed my hand around his member.

We furiously jerked each other off.

As he leaned forward to kiss my lips, I felt the powerful contractions of his orgasm, felt his semen spurt in rapid fire against my belly and chest.

I let out a moan, feeling my load rising fast.

I opened my eyes wide to watch him hunch convulsively over his motorcycle, his chin straining toward his chest, as he pounded his fist against the bike’s handlebar.

“He’s really coming!” I nearly shouted at the bay window, ejaculating while doing my best to catch my load in the palm of my other hand.

I was rocked by one of the most intense orgasms of my life.

Some time later, when the euphoria swirling around my brain had ebbed away, I looked at the pool of semen in my hand, then down at the man now sitting calmly on his motorcycle.

He was staring up at me in the window.

As if reading his mind, I somehow knew he wanted me to come downstairs and open the door. He wanted to march into the foyer and lick my hand clean. He wanted to shuck his jeans and boxers to his knees, so I could lick his load off his genitals. As profoundly as I wanted to taste his sperm, his cock, his scrotum, his butthole, he was ten times more undone by his desire to kiss me, taste my lips, roll his tongue over mine. He wanted to be naked with me in my bed. He wanted to hold me in his arms. He wanted to whisper in my ear about the coven.

Coven? I thought, suddenly reaching for the gauzy curtain, as I shook my head at him. Vallejo is turning out to be crazier than me!

I jerked the curtain across the window, then held my breath, until he slipped on his helmet and started his motorcycle.

I didn’t leave the window until he had turned onto Montgomery Street and disappeared toward Georgia.

I walked down the hallway. I didn’t turn on the bathroom light while I washed my hands.

I then returned to my room, slipped into bed and stared at the decorative medallion where the overhead light dropped from the ceiling. I wondered what connection, if any, the motorcycle rider had in Grandmother’s disappearance. Why had he been idling his bike outside her house? Had a Tarot-card reading gone horribly wrong? Was he her stalker? Her kidnapper? Nothing was making sense, especially my having an intense sexual encounter with him via a crazy-as-hell mind meld. The more I doubted any of it had actually happened, though, the more vividly I recalled every detail of my bizarre psychic connection with him.

I’m losing my mind, I thought, squeezing my member now throbbing in my fist. I again felt the surprising intensity with which he had wanted to be naked with me in my bed, holding me in his arms, as he told me about the coven.

I fell asleep while playing over and over in my mind how earnestly he’d stared into my eyes while kneading my shoulders.

Very sexy! I see you’ve written a few gay erotica books now; how has the process of writing and publishing changed for you over the years?

I wrote by hand my first gay erotic story, then made front and back covers for it and carefully bound it all together with red yarn. I later wrote stories with a word processor that had a tiny viewing screen. Then, at long last, I bought a laptop in the 1990’s, which made writing a snap. I used to write in Word. Now, I prefer writing in a Text file, which is easy to edit, then transfer into whatever formats are required.

I wrote my first gay erotic short stories in the 1980’s and 90’s, when the only outlets for such stories were gay skin magazines and a handful of book publishers. It took time to research how to properly submit stories to each one, then several stamps to mail them off. Weeks and months would pass before I knew if any had been accepted. The payments were typically just okay. And in the decades before the internet, my stories in magazines and books were almost immediately destined for oblivion if I didn’t promote them while submitting new stories to publishers.

The internet has changed everything, of course. My Tumblr and Twitter accounts promote my stories and make me personally available to fans and potential publishers. Sites like Goodreads introduce even more readers to my work. Over the last two years, I’ve self-published four books on Amazon, which is so easy to use, I wish I had started self-publishing ten years ago. I like that I can track in real time how each book is selling, which promotions had an impact, etc. And I enjoy being paid at the end of every month.

I’m curious about the cover for Pyewacket, Pyewacket – can you tell us why you chose a photo of butterfly wings?

For that cover, I chased butterflies around my backyard for several weeks, taking 101 photographs before I had enough images I liked in order to assemble the cover image. Grant is baffled for much of the story by the clouds of orange butterflies that assemble around him. The reader will have to follow Grant’s adventure to discover alongside him, at his darkest hour, why the butterflies appear.

What have you found to be some of the upsides and downsides of self-publishing?

Upsides: I approve the final version of the book; and all of the royalties come to me.

Downsides: I must do all of the promotion, which includes Twitter, Tumblr and reaching out to reviewers on their blogs and at sites like Goodreads; and I approve the final version of the book (which means all the typos are my fault–and which furthermore means I generally revisit a published book at least once for another round of edits). I like that publishers have their own promotional operations set up and their own editors. I dislike that my royalties are much less with publishers than if I self-publish on Amazon.

What’s next for J. Phillip Elwes?

I have in mind an idea that could be the sequel to Pyewacket, Pyewacket, but it’s not yet fully formed.

In the near future, I intend to return to the gay erotic novel I was working on before Pyewacket, Pyewacket suddenly took center stage. That story will bring back many of the characters from my gay erotic stories prior to Pyewacket, Pyewacket, and is told over twenty years from the point of Liam, who is the photographer’s assistant in my gay erotic short story, “Anything But Everything.”

I also plan to write a gay erotic detective series set in Vallejo, California. The main character is Jason Morgan, who is the love interest in my gay erotic short story, “The First of the Month.” More than twenty years have passed since we last saw Jason. He’s now recently widowed and becomes a reluctant detective in the first book as he comes to the aid of friend accused of murder.

These projects are definitely on the burner, though I am finding myself increasingly distracted by photographs of a professional athlete covered in tattoos. I wonder if another novella or novel is about to announce itself.

It was fun talking with you, Cameron. Take care and happy reading!

And thank you for stopping by!

Pyewacket, Pyewacket is available on Amazon.com.

Showing Him the Ropes by Christa Tomlinson (Book Blitz)

Good morning! Today’s blog tour book blitz is Showing Him The Ropes by Christa Tomlinson! Read on for the blurb, cover, excerpt, and giveaway!

Blurb:

Chance “The Chancellor” Gerhardt is a mainstay for Frontier Professional Wrestling. He’s won multiple championships and has the respect of the locker room. But after ten years at the top, Chance is looking for a new challenge. The one he gets, mentoring FPW’s young rookie, is both unexpected and unwanted.

Devin Jacobs is a hot new talent signed by Frontier Professional Wrestling. He’s always been a fan of The Chancellor, and not just because of the older man’s skill in the ring. He has it bad for the steely eyed veteran wrestler. Unfortunately for Devin, The Chancellor doesn’t believe in mixing business with pleasure, and isn’t looking to get involved with anyone. Or is he? During long nights traveling and working together, Devin catches more than one secretly admiring glance from The Chancellor…

Devin is determined to earn victories and championships in the ring. But he’d also love the opportunity to win Chance’s heart. Can the two of them navigate their way through the hyper masculinity and backstage politics of professional wrestling to the most important victory of all? Or will their shot at love be defeated 1-2-3?

Christa Tomlinson is a lifelong fan of professional wrestling. When she’s not writing, Christa can be found watching her favorite classic matches or traveling to live wrestling events.

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Purchase:  Amazon US | Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | All Romance | Kobo Books

Excerpt:

Devin changed the subject again. “So are you married?

“Hell no.”

“Are you seeing anybody?”

“No.”

“Mess around with the ring rats then?”

Chance laughed. “Not even close.”

Devin thought that was an interesting answer. “So do you not hook up with any chicks? Should your gimmick be The Monk instead of The Chancellor?”

“I’m not a damn monk.”

“So then who-.”

Chance cut him off. “This conversation is done.”

Devin sat there quiet for a moment. Chance sounded just like him when he’d been trying to squirm out of admitting he was gay. And it made him wonder. Could The Chancellor be gay as well? “I don’t hook up with any of the groupies either.”

“So?”

“I’m just saying, while we’re traveling together, you won’t have to worry about me bringing any girls up to our hotel room.”

Chance snorted and flicked on the right blinker to get over and exit the freeway. “Trust me, you wouldn’t. Because I wouldn’t allow it.”

Devin laughed as they drove down the exit ramp. “Is that right? What would you do if I did, spank me?” They’d come to idle at a stop light, so Chance turned and looked at him. His face was half in shadow, but Devin saw him run his eyes over him. And his heart started to pound. He knew that look. He’d seen that look plenty of times before – from guys who were interested in him. Seeing it from The Chancellor was the last thing he’d expected. But before he could decide what to say, or if he even should say anything, the light turned green. Chance turned back around to proceed through the intersection…

About the Author:

Christa Tomlinson is an exciting up and coming author in erotic romance. Her first self-published novel, The Sergeant, was an Amazon Best Seller for Gay and Lesbian Erotica for seven weeks straight.

Although Christa graduated from The University of Missouri-St. Louis with a degree in History, she currently prefers to write contemporary romance. She loves to create stories that are emotional and lovely with sex that is integral to the characters’ romantic arc. Her books include straight couples, curvy couples, gay, and multicultural couples. Love is love and everyone should have their story told.

Christa lives in Houston, Texas with her two dogs, and is a retired roller derby player.

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Blog Tour Schedule:

8/16 Two Chicks Obsessed with Books and Eye Candy

8/16 Alpha Book Club

8/17 Purple Rose Teahouse

8/18 MM Good Book Reviews

8/19 Bayou Book Junkie

8/20 Love Bytes Reviews

8/20 Prism Book Alliance

Giveaway:

Click here to visit Rafflecopter and enter the giveaway! Three lucky winners will each receive a signed paper back copy and cover art posters of Showing Him the Ropes.

All Note Long by Annabeth Albert (Book Blitz)

Today’s book blitz is All Note Long by Annabeth Albert! Read on for the blurb, cover, excerpt, and giveaway!

Blurb:

Giving true love a spin . . .

Michelin Moses is a country music star on the rise. With a hit single under his Texas-sized belt buckle and a sold-out concert tour underway, his childhood dreams of making it big are finally coming true. But there’s one thing missing—a promise to his dying mother that he’d find it—him—when the time was right. With a little luck, he won’t have to wait too long . . .

Lucky Ramirez is a hunky boy toy who dances at The Broom Closet, one of West Hollywood’s hottest gay bars. He loves what he does, and he’s good at it—almost as good as he is at playing dumb when he spots Michelin Moses at the bar. What happens next is off the charts—and keeps Michelin coming back for more. He’s just not sure it’s the right move for his career. But if Lucky gets his way, Michelin will get Lucky—and no matter how the media spins it, neither of them will be faking it . . .

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Purchase: Kensington Publishing | Amazon US | Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | Google Play | iTunes | Kobo

Excerpt:

Michelin Moses had no business at a gay bar, especially not one as notorious as West Hollywood’s The Broom Closet. And the line to get in totally underscored that—the vestibule was a long, narrow tunnel filled with kids out to enjoy their Friday night. Babies, really. Fresh-faced young things who probably didn’t even need to shave jostled one another in the tight space, laughing and joking as they admired one another’s club wear and gossiped about who was fucking who.

Not that Michelin was listening in, but the space was so tiny it was hard not to. He didn’t have club wear to ogle. He had “please for the love of God don’t notice me” clothes. And the idea of openly pointing to another dude in line and announcing to one’s friends, “Oh yeah, I hit that last weekend” was so totally foreign that he couldn’t help but gape a bit. The plexiglass walls of the tunnel gave off weird shadows—neither the lights outside the club nor the dim track lighting along the bottom edge of the tunnel were enough illumination.

He tugged at the collar of his Henley shirt. Damn, it was hot in here. Too small. Too tight. Not enough air. Shut up. He was not claustrophobic. If this line ever moved, he’d feel better once he was inside the Closet.

If that’s not a metaphor for your whole damn life…

“ID please.” Finally, the line reached the bouncers who were taking ID. Michelin couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had to stand around like this, show ID. At least unlike these nineteen-year-olds with their fake identification, Michelin’s Oregon driver’s license was likely to hold up. The bouncer was a huge guy—so tall and jacked that Michelin felt for the tiny stool that held him up—with surprisingly small, delicate hands.

He held the card aloft before finally handing it back and nodding. “Okay, cowboy. Enjoy your night.”

At least he hadn’t laughed outright at the name. That was something. Shoving his license back in his wallet, he stumbled a bit coming out of the tunnel.

“Watch it,” someone barked behind him.

“Sorry,” Michelin mumbled. Hell, he couldn’t even successfully enter the Closet. A nervous laugh bubbled up in his throat, something he stamped right back down. Forget the stupid bar, coming out of his personal closet was out of the question, and he didn’t need the crowd jostling behind him to remind him of that.

“This your first time here?” a kid to the left of him asked—short little guy with far more bravado than brains. Michelin made a noncommittal response but the kid grabbed his sleeve, his eyes going soft and hooded. “How about you be my daddy for the night? We can make sure it’s your lucky night.” The kid winked.

Ugh. Getting lucky wasn’t even remotely in the cards for his night.

“No thanks.” He pulled away from the kid, scanning the cavernous space for signs of the private party room his friends had promised. And oh holy hell, knowing in the abstract that this place had go-go dancers was a far cry from actually seeing said dancers dispersed through the place on platforms and in cages and even on something resembling a trapeze. Gleaming bronze skin and tiny shorts everywhere he looked.

Fuck the private room. I need a soda. Something to relieve his suddenly parched throat. He turned toward the main bar area and ran smack into one of the elevated dancers’ platforms.  Two platforms flanked the opening of the club, directing the stream of traffic toward the bar, sort of like how a different sort of place might have large statues. Only instead of works of stone or ice, this…piece of art in front of Michelin was all man.

And what a specimen he was. The dancer probably wasn’t much older than the kids waiting to get into the club, but there was nothing juvenile about his tall, ripped body or that juicy bubble butt that he worked to perfection the way Michelin’s guitar player did a solo—each muscle working in concert with the others, each wiggle carefully choreographed for maximum appeal. Said butt was encased in a pair of shorts. Or at least Michelin guessed that one would call them shorts—they were longer than underwear, but not by much, and made of a clingy, silky red material. The stitching did things to the guy’s package that shouldn’t be legal.

Those muscular legs and that smooth, oiled chest also needed outlawing. The dancer had completed his look with thick, chunky combat boots, sunglasses, and a necklace with a medal on it. The boots and glasses upped the hotness factor to supernova, giving him an untouchable appeal that made it no surprise that he had a fair-sized crowd around his platform. Right as Michelin completed his muscle-by-muscle catalog of the guy, the dancer’s glasses slipped, revealing chocolaty eyes. His eyebrows went up, and the message he sent Michelin was unmistakable: You gonna stay there all night?

Oh fuck. Michelin was blocking the line of traffic, and more important, blocking access to the platform for the patrons who wanted to slip tips in the guy’s waistband.

Should he? He shoved a hand in his pocket, considering. Did he dare risk touching a piece of that gleaming skin? The lights reflecting off the dancer’s body totally made Michelin think of caramel dripping off flan—rich golden tones only enhanced by the contrast of the shiny black combat boots and his closely cropped black hair.

What the fuck was the protocol in a situation like this? Hi, I’m sorry I’ve been eye-fucking you for the last ten minutes, here’s a five? He’d never been to a straight strip club either. Hell, he avoided most bars like the plague. And eye-fucking? He never ogled—and not just because it could be disastrous to his career. Most of the time he simply felt oblivious, but something about the dancer perked up parts of Michelin that usually stayed dormant. Two people shoved around him to stuff money in the dancer’s shorts, their arms trapping Michelin briefly in place. Coming here had been a giant mistake, just as Gloria had warned him.

“You can’t go to that party! Gossip is already high about you mentoring two gay groups—”

“They’re not gay groups. They just happen to have gay members,” Michelin said wearily, already tired of this latest publicist the label had shoved at him.

“Whatever.” Gloria flipped her bony wrist. “They’re a risk you can’t take right now.”

“It’s no big deal. There will be straight people at the party.” Michelin didn’t bother with the “other straight people” pretext. Gloria knew the drill. “There’s no risk in celebrating a friend’s birthday.”

Except now, looking at the dancer, Michelin knew how wrong he’d been. This place was risk personified, and that dancer was the embodiment of everything Michelin denied himself. The dancer was a triple pour of top-shelf whiskey and Michelin couldn’t stop thinking about the heady rush touching him would bring. He should turn around now. Get back to his car now before he really embarrassed himself—

“Mi—boss! There you are!”

Oh thank you, small mercies, that Lucas stopped himself before he said Michelin’s name. Still, Michelin turned toward him warily. Play it cool, he tried to tell Lucas with his eyes.

Lucas nodded, just slightly. Message received. Like everyone else in the club, Lucas was in his early twenties and about a decade younger than Michelin, but at least he was one of Michelin’s favorite kids, especially because he was here to lead Michelin away from the temptation that was the dancer with the sculpture-worthy ass.

“The party room is back this way.” Lucas motioned with his hand. “Follow me.”

“Babe!” A familiar rangy figure with a punk haircut draped himself over Lucas. “You found him.” Cody had a smile for Michelin, but his affection was all for his boyfriend.

Ordinarily, Michelin loved being around the two of them and the other guys he mentored. Their energy was infectious, and their passion for music renewed his own.  But tonight, Michelin’s stomach cramped as he followed the two of them to the rear of the club. Happiness practically rolled off them and their movements were totally in sync with each other. Once Michelin had thought he might get to know what that was like, but those days were long past.

“Don’t even think about doing anything now. You’ve got too much riding on this year. Don’t be foolish. You’ve got the number one country song in America right now. Don’t mess with your momentum.”  Gloria’s voice rang in his ears. Nope. No way was Michelin ever getting what his friends shared. No sense in pining for it either. He had a career he loved, friends who made him laugh, and family at his back. He’d known what the trade-offs were when he decided to trade his rock stardom for country crossover success.

Tonight’s strange melancholy mood had him aching to get back home, push all these feelings into working on a new song. With any luck, Michelin could say happy birthday to Jalen, make a round of greetings to the other musicians he was mentoring, and get the hell out of Dodge. Preferably without running into the dancer again. He didn’t need another reminder of how little he fit into this world—or how much he wished life were a bit different.

About the Author:

Annabeth Albert grew up sneaking romance novels under the bed covers. Now, she devours all subgenres of romance out in the open—no flashlights required! When she’s not adding to her keeper shelf, she’s a multi-published Pacific Northwest romance writer.

Emotionally complex, sexy, and funny stories are her favorites both to read and to write. Annabeth loves finding happy endings for a variety of pairings and is a passionate gay rights supporter.  In between searching out dark heroes to redeem, she works a rewarding day job and wrangles two children.

Represented by Saritza Hernandez of the Corvisiero Literary Agency

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Giveaway:

Click here to visit Rafflecopter and enter to win an eBook copy of All Note Long!

Reaction Shot by Parker Avrile (Book Blitz)

Good morning! Check out the blurb, cover, excerpt, and giveaway of Reaction Shot by Parker Avrile, today’s book blitz blog tour!

Blurb:

What happens in the dungeon doesn’t stay in the dungeon.

“My sex stuff wouldn’t make my father happy, but the feds didn’t mind it at all. In fact, the official story was that I was the ex-boytoy of some now-disgraced Chinese billionaire. The gay wasn’t an issue. Even the BDSM wasn’t an issue. The issue was money-laundering. As long as they saw me as just another party boy, I was safe.”

Or so he thinks. And then 22-year-old reformed bad boy Shale Shelby becomes involved with an A-list Hollywood action star with a strong taste for dominating younger men. His life may never be the same.

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Purchase at: Amazon US | Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | All Romance | iTunes

Excerpt:

…”I really don’t think it’s a good idea for me to get involved with the fans, you know?”

The fans? “You’re really in love with yourself, aren’t you?”

“Don’t pretend you would be here if I wasn’t in the movies.”

“You’re in the movies?”

“What did I just say about playing stupid? There’s a lot of models I could have in my bed right now if I wanted stupid.”

“You’re pretty enough to be in the movies.” I looked him over. Yeah, I could definitely see this one as some kind of star. Those dimples were quality.

“Stop. Just stop. I don’t need a lot of honesty from a blowjob, but I need that much.”

“OK, OK, you’re in the movies, and I’m your stalker, and you had to capture me and teach me a lesson. Maybe you better handcuff me again. I don’t think the last lesson took.”

“I really should ask you to leave.” But we both knew he didn’t want to.

I snuggled close. “All right. Name one movie I’ve seen you in.”

He named five.

Oh fuck. I sat up and took his head in my two hands. Turned it this way and that to study him from every angle. “I just thought you were a guy who looks like him,” I said.

About the Author:

I ran away to Vegas. Now I’m running from it.

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Giveaway:

Click here to visit Rafflecopter and enter to win an ebook copy of Reaction Shot!