Hi guys, we have Ann Gallagher stopping by today with the tour for her new release All The Wrong Places, we have a great excerpt a fantastic giveaway and Aerin’s review so check out the post and enjoy! <3 ~Pixie~

All The Wrong Places

Ann Gallagher

Three cheating girlfriends in a row have given skateboarder Brennan Cross the same excuse: he wasn’t meeting their needs. Desperate and humiliated, he goes to the professionals at the local sex shop for advice.

Zafir Hamady, a sales clerk at Red Hot Bluewater, has an unusual theory: he doesn’t think Brennan is a bad lover. In fact, he doesn’t think Brennan is heterosexual. Or sexual at all, for that matter. He also can’t stop thinking about Brennan. But even if he’s right and Brennan really is asexual, that doesn’t mean Zafir has a chance. Brennan’s never dated a man, and Zafir’s never met anyone who’s game for a Muslim single father with a smart mouth and a GED.

Brennan’s always thought of himself as straight. But when sex is explicitly out of the mix, he finds himself drawn to Zafir for the qualities and interests they share. And Zafir can’t help enjoying Brennan’s company and the growing bond between Brennan and his son. They work well together, but with so many issues between them, doubts creep in, and Brennan’s struggle with his identity could push away the one person he didn’t know he could love.

All The Wrong Places

Welcome to the Riptide Publishing/Ann Gallagher blog tour for All the Wrong Places, the latest installment in the Bluewater Bay series!

Excerpt

 

I had to be at work in a couple of hours anyway, so I parked behind Skate of Juan de Fuca, the skate shop where I worked. I stepped onto my skateboard and wove my way down the sidewalk toward the sex shop two blocks away.

It felt weird, coming to this part of town so early in the day but not going into the shop or over to the skate park like I usually did before work. Today, I was on a mission. And besides, I didn’t feel like kicking around with all of our mutual friends. Didn’t feel like being around her, and there was a good chance she’d be there. Along with him.

I gritted my teeth and kept going, without even glancing in the direction of the park.

As I followed the sidewalk, though, I slowed down a bit, nervously eyeing the red-and-black sign up ahead. I couldn’t tell what the sick feeling was now. Or rather, where the queasy betrayed feeling ended and the gut-twisting nervousness began. I’d never been into a sex shop before, and I sure as hell had never gone into a place to ask for advice about how to keep my girlfriend—or, well, hypothetical future girlfriend—satisfied.

Especially since I wasn’t even sure where to start. Where had things gone wrong? She always came. Didn’t she? Or had she been . . . faking it?

Well, if she’d faked it, she deserved an Oscar, because that woman always came harder than either of my previous girlfriends.

My previous girlfriends who’d also deemed me a dud in bed.

My cheeks must’ve been glowing red. I couldn’t remember ever being this humiliated in my life. I hadn’t even brought my phone with me because I was mortified at the thought of turning it on and seeing a million texts from people who now knew I couldn’t turn her on.

She’d never complained about my technique. Not once. Neither had Alejandra, though Kasey had occasionally made passive-aggressive comments about me buying her a dildo or something for Christmas so there wouldn’t be so much pressure on me. But I’d thought Aimee was satisfied. She always wanted to have sex.

Or, well, she had always wanted to have sex. For the first year, she was constantly initiating it, and I rarely turned her down. But the last six months . . .

The nausea nearly lurched up the back of my throat, and I gulped hard to once again keep my breakfast where it belonged. How had I not seen the signs?

Too late now. Only thing I could do was figure out where I’d gone wrong, and see if I could maybe not disappoint the next girl who came along.

Parking was a bitch in Bluewater Bay, and the spaces in front of most shops were full. There were open parking spaces in front of the sex shop, though. So, that must’ve meant nobody was here? This time of day, it wouldn’t be that busy, right? When did people go to sex shops, anyway? Seemed like the kind of thing you’d do at night, under cover of darkness. Unless all the daytime customers were cowards who parked over at Walgreens or the bank. That might’ve explained the random cars sometimes parked behind Skate of Juan de Fuca—people hiding their cars while they browsed porn? Something.

In front of the sex shop, I kicked up my board and tucked it under my arm. For a minute, I stared the place down and tried to psych myself up. The windows were covered in black paper. As progressive as this town was, I supposed Bluewater Bay wasn’t quite ready for street-facing displays full of dildos and condoms. Hell, Juan de Fuca caught flak for having mannequins on skateboards without helmets and pads, so the moral vigilantes must’ve had a field day with this place.

A sign on the door said No One Under 18 Permitted in big, red letters.

Here goes nothing.

Heart thumping, I opened the door and went inside.

Two steps in, I halted and stared at my surroundings. What . . . the hell . . . was all this shit?

The lingerie and condoms, I understood. But some of the . . . tools? Toys? Whatever they were, I thought they belonged in an operating room. Or an interrogation room.

Okay, so apparently I am clueless, because holy fuck.

The place even smelled alien. Like a mix of herbs, fruits, leather, rubber, and . . . I wasn’t even sure I wanted to identify all of it.

My dick didn’t hold a candle to most of the dildos. Well, that might’ve been a clue about my girlfriends’ problems. I hadn’t thought I was lacking in size, but if the “power dong” and “hole buster” were anything to go by, maybe there was an anatomical issue I had overlooked. Okay, so Kasey had once said my cock was clearly the karmic result of some horrible thing I’d done in a past life, but I’d thought she was joking. I supposed—

“Can I help you find something?”

The smooth male voice damn near made me jump out of my skin, and I spun around like an idiot in a haunted house instead of that same idiot in a sex shop. Leaning over the counter, seemingly unaware of the penis-shaped lollipops next to his arm, was a guy with a black ponytail and dark eyes fixed right on me. I thought he was Middle Eastern—didn’t see a lot of people with olive skin like that around here.

And he was still staring at me, waiting for an answer to his question.

I cleared my throat. “Um . . . I . . .”

“Also, do you have any ID on you?” He grimaced apologetically. “We’ve had some issues with minors, so . . .”

“Yeah. Yeah. Sure.” I fished my wallet out of my back pocket, pulled out my driver’s license, and handed it to him.

He took it, looked it over, and slid it back across the counter. “You’re good. Sorry about that. We—”

“No, I get it. Don’t worry.” I stuck my license back in my wallet and into my pocket. “I still get carded for R-rated movies, so it’s cool.”

He laughed. “You too?”

“All the time.” I rubbed my chin, which I hadn’t had to shave since yesterday. “Damn baby face.”

“I know, right?” He folded his arms and leaned on them. “So, what can I help you find?”

And suddenly I wasn’t laughing anymore. Shit. Nerves. Hello. What could I say without sounding like an idiot? Why did I even care what this guy thought of me? He’d probably seen and heard things in here that would’ve blown my mind while he didn’t bat an eye. This was, after all, a guy who worked in a place that sold penis-shaped lollipops—Now in Banana Flavor, apparently.

I shook myself and pulled my gaze away from the candy. “To be totally blunt? I’m having some issues with my girlfriend. And I guess I thought . . .” I glanced around the shop, my shoulders sinking as my stomach turned to lead. “I don’t know what I thought.”

“I assume you mean problems in bed.”

Heat rushed into my cheeks. Staring at the lollipops because they were easier to focus on than him, I nodded. “Yeah.”

“So . . .” He absently tapped a pen on the counter. A pen with a big plastic dick on it. Of course. “If you don’t mind my asking, what kinds of problems?” He paused. “So I can help you narrow down a solution, I mean. Not . . . not trying to pry.”

“Well . . .” I thumbed the peeling tread on my skateboard. “What do you have for people who thought they knew what they were doing in bed, then realized they didn’t?”

“Ouch. Hmm. Well, fair warning, I’m not a sex therapist or an expert.” He chuckled. “I just sell the tools.”

“Hey, I don’t need a therapist. If you can point me toward the right tools”—and maybe show—no, tell!—me how to use them—“we’re good.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” He came around the cash register and motioned for me to follow him. I fell into step behind him, and we moved toward the far end of the shop. At a large bookcase, he stopped, and gestured at the shelves that were crammed with books. “Any of these could help, so I’d suggest browsing through it and seeing if anything sounds like what you need.”

“That’s just it.” I stared at the books, my heart sinking. “I . . . I don’t know. I have no idea what the problem is.”

“That’s perfectly okay.” He waved a hand at the bottom shelf. “It’s not all techniques and things like that. We’ve got books that may as well be textbooks on human sexuality.” Turning to me, he lifted his eyebrows a little. “Could be worth it to read through and see if something resonates.”

I scanned the titles, and nodded. Then I looked around the rest of the shop. “It’s funny. Up until last night, I thought I knew what I was doing. Now, I feel like a clueless virgin.”

He watched me for a moment. “If it’s not too personal . . . what happened?”

Too personal? We’re standing in the middle of a store full of fake penises, talking about my sex life.

“I caught my girlfriend.” I swallowed. “Ex-girlfriend now. With another guy. And she said it was because I didn’t fulfill her ‘needs.’” I made the sharpest, bitterest air quotes ever. “Whatever the fuck that means.”

His posture stiffened. “That sounds to me like an excuse to cheat.”

“That’s what I thought when the girl before her made the same excuse. And the one before her.”

He grimaced. “Wow. Well. Excuse or not, cheaters are . . .” He pressed his lips together, then shook his head. “Anyway.”

“All I know is, something was wrong, and I’m hoping there’s something here that can help me fix it.”

He shifted his weight. “All right. Giving her the benefit of the doubt—which, for the record, I don’t give to cheaters—maybe you two were mismatched somehow.”

I wasn’t sure how I felt about him being angry at her on my behalf. Vindicated wasn’t the word. Maybe kind of relieved that he hadn’t laughed me out of the store for being such an absolute dud that she’d had to resort to whatever Billy had going for him.

I sighed. “So I’m mismatched with her and the two before her?” I shook my head. “Whatever’s going on, I’m the common denominator.”

He started to speak, the tightness in his features making me wonder if it was something snide, but he hesitated. Then he shook himself, and his expression relaxed a little. “Well, it might mean you haven’t figured out what you want enough to find a partner who matches.”

“Oh.” Not surprising—the answer was that I was clueless about something. I’d just figured it was about women, not myself, but what the hell did I know?

He tilted his head. “There’s nothing wrong with that, by the way. Some people take years to find exactly what it is they need with a partner.”

“That’s encouraging.”

He pursed his lips as he scanned the shelves around us. “For starters, I think we need to find your kink.”

I bit back an incredulous request for him to repeat that, catching myself an instant before I would’ve sounded as stupid as I felt.

He turned to me. “What kind of stuff do you fantasize about?”

“Fantasize . . .” I avoided his gaze, staring at a rack of magazines, but not really looking at them as I kept working at that peeling tread on my board. “I don’t . . .”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he said softly. “Just might, you know, help me steer you down the right aisle.”

I glanced up and scanned the signs on the ends of the various aisles. Lingerie. Dildos, Dicks, and Vibrators. So Much Lube. Kinky. Kinkier. Kinkiest.

The answer was down one of those aisles?

“I, um . . .” I gestured at them. “None of that stuff.”

“Okay, fair.” He shrugged. “Do you watch porn?”

“I have, but it’s boring as hell. Maybe I’m watching the wrong kind?”

“What kind have you watched?”

I had to think about it for a minute. I was pretty sure the last time I’d looked at porn, I had to use my mom’s credit card to get past the “prove you’re eighteen, asshole” screen. If memory served, I’d been more excited about accessingporn than watching it.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Two people fucking?”

He gave a quiet laugh. “Well, that rules out orgies, and presumably BDSM?”

“Never watched anything with S&M in it. Or orgies.”

“So, what you did watch . . .” His eyebrows rose a little. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Always thought it was kind of boring, to be honest. It’s all fake.”

“Yeah, a lot of it is. You ever tried amateur?”

“No . . .”

He watched me for a moment. “Let me ask you this: are you into men?”

“What? No!” I shook my head. “I mean, one of my exes convinced everyone I’m gay, but . . . no. I’m not.”

“Okay. Are you into women?”

“Huh?” I laughed. “Of course I am. That’s why I’m here. To figure out how to not be a loser in bed with a woman.”

“Right, but . . .” He absently ran the backs of his fingers along the edge of his jaw. “Okay, well, to put it more bluntly, what do you think about when you jerk off?”

Fresh heat rushed into my cheeks. “Um . . .”

He smiled warmly. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Trust me—I’ve heard it all.”

“It’s not that. I mean, okay, it kind of is, but . . .” I pretended to be interested in a couple of weird metal objects whose purpose I wasn’t sure I wanted to figure out. “I don’t really think of anything when I jerk off.”

“You don’t think of anything at all?”

I hesitated, then met his eyes. “Is that weird?”

“Well, no.” He folded his arms loosely and shifted his weight. “But I think it might be telling.”

“How do you mean?”

“Let me ask you this first: why do you jerk off?”

I studied him, trying to figure out what the hell he was getting at. “Because I have a boner? And I want to go to sleep?” God, could this conversation get any weirder?

“But not because you’re thinking of someone?”

I shook my head.

“Have you ever thought you might be asexual?”

“Uh . . .” I blinked. Yep. The conversation could get weirder. “Come again?”

“Asexual. Maybe you’re . . . not into sex.”

I shifted my weight. “That’s a thing? People can be asexual?”

“Yep. It’s not just plants anymore.” He smiled, and something about his expression gave me permission to laugh, which was good—it meant I was breathing again.

“But if I was asexual, I wouldn’t jerk off, would I?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” He shrugged. “Some people do. I do.”

I jumped like he’d smacked me. “So . . . you’re asexual?”

He nodded. “That’s why I started wondering. Some of the stuff you said, it sounded pretty familiar.”

“How come I’ve never heard of people being asexual?”

“A lot of people haven’t. It’s only been the last few years that it’s really been acknowledged.” He scowled. “Isn’t terribly accepted, but it’s a start.”

“So it’s just . . .” I rocked from my heels to the balls of my feet, wondering where all this nervous energy was coming from. “People who don’t like sex?”

“Well, not necessarily.” He half shrugged. “Some asexuals want nothing to do with sex. Some will do it if their partner is into it, and they’ll still enjoy it. And some people aren’t interested in sex unless they have a really strong emotional bond with someone.”

“So, even though I like sex, I’m still . . .”

“From what you’re telling me, that’s my guess.” He held my gaze. “When you and your girlfriend did have sex, did you ever initiate it?”

I thought back, and now that he mentioned it, I couldn’t remember being the one to initiate it. Narrowing my eyes, I said, “So what you’re suggesting is, it was my fault she cheated.”

“No!” He shook his head. “No, not at all. But it—”

“I mean, what the fuck am I supposed to tell the next girl? We can date, but I don’t do the sex because I’m asexual?”

“Look.” He patted the air, and his tone was quieter and gentler than before. “There are plenty of options for asexuals. There are—”

“Shit.” I shook my head and took a step back, inching toward the door. “No, I think coming here was a bad idea. I’m not good at sex, but I want to be.”

“Because you want sex?” he asked softly. “Or because you want to be able to please your partner?”

“What’s the difference?”

We locked eyes. He didn’t say anything, and I wondered if he didn’t have an answer, or if he wanted me to put the pieces together. Nervously, I tugged at that piece of tread again, and when it snapped, I jumped. Swallowing hard, I moved the board under my other arm.

“I, um . . .” I took another step toward the door. “I have to go.”

I turned and hurried out. He didn’t follow me or try to stop me.

I dropped my board to the sidewalk, stepped on it, and got the hell out of there.

Read more here: http://riptidepublishing.com/titles/all-wrong-places-bluewater-bay-novel (Just click the excerpt tab)

About Ann

Ann Gallagher is the slightly more civilized alter ego of L.A. Witt, Lauren Gallagher, and Lori A. Witt. So she tells herself, anyway. When she isn’t wreaking havoc on Spain with her husband and trusty two-headed Brahma bull, she writes romances just like her wilder counterparts, but without all the heat. She is also far too mature to get involved in the petty battle between L.A. and Lauren, but she’s seriously going to get even with Lori for a certain incident that shall not be discussed publicly.

Connect with Ann:

Website: http://loriawitt.com
Author Blog: http://gallagherwitt.blogspot.com
Personal Blog: http://navywifeadventures.blogspot.
Twitter: @GallagherWitt
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/L-A-Witt-MM-Fiction

Giveaway!

Every comment on this blog tour enters you in a drawing for a choice of two eBooks off my backlist (excluding All The Wrong Places, but including books written as L.A. Witt or Lauren Gallagher) and a $10 Riptide Publishing store credit!

Remember to leave an email so you can be contacted if you win

Review

Title: All the Wrong Places

Series: Bluewater Bay 14

Author: Ann Gallagher

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Length: 240 pages

Publisher: Riptide Publishing (June 13th 2016)

Heat Level: Low

Heart Rating: ♥♥♥♥♥ 5 Hearts

Blurb: Three cheating girlfriends in a row have given skateboarder Brennan Cross the same excuse: he wasn’t meeting their needs. Desperate and humiliated, he goes to the professionals at the local sex shop for advice.

Zafir Hamady, a sales clerk at Red Hot Bluewater, has an unusual theory: he doesn’t think Brennan is a bad lover. In fact, he doesn’t think Brennan is heterosexual. Or sexual at all, for that matter. He also can’t stop thinking about Brennan. But even if he’s right and Brennan really is asexual, that doesn’t mean Zafir has a chance. Brennan’s never dated a man, and Zafir’s never met anyone whose game for a Muslim single father with a smart mouth and a GED.

Brennan’s always thought of himself as straight. But when sex is explicitly out of the mix, he finds himself drawn to Zafir for the qualities and interests they share. And Zafir can’t help enjoying Brennan’s company and the growing bond between Brennan and his son. They work well together, but with so many issues between them, doubts creep in, and Brennan’s struggle with his identity could push away the one person he didn’t know he could love.

ISBN: 978-1-62649-420-6

Product Link: http://riptidepublishing.com/titles/all-wrong-places-bluewater-bay-novel

Reviewer: Aerin

Review: After reading the blurb for  All the Wrong Places, I was convinced that I wouldn’t like it that much. My favorite books usually have lots of dirty, filthy sex in them. Since both characters are asexual men, I knew this wasn’t up my alley and yet I was compelled to read it. This book ended up being a journey of self-discovery for Brennan, one of our main characters, and for me as well. If you’re expecting any heat or sex of any kind, if the lack of steam is a deal breaker for you, then this book is not for you.

Brennan is a man in his 20’s who’s struggling to understand what he’s doing wrong in his relationships with women. He knows his problems start with his inability to make his girlfriends sexually happy. He realizes something must be wrong. Yet, he can’t figure out what needs to change. Heartbroken after his latest girlfriend cheated on him, he goes to Red Hot Bluewater (the adult store in Bluewater Bay) in search of some answers. Who better to answer his questions than a person who’s heard it all and would never make fun of him?

Zafir is an asexual man who’s also bi-romantic (able to form strong emotional connections with both sexes) and who falls under the gray-sexual area of the asexual spectrum (able to have sex and enjoy it, if there is a strong emotional connection established with that person). Talking to Brennan even for a few minutes makes it very obvious to him that Brennan is asexual as well. Yes, Brennan has been in relationships with women and has had sex with every single one of them, but he’s never initiated it and has always been a source of tension for him.

Zafir and Brennan become friends, they have a lot in common, and enjoy spending time together. Zafir is tremendously helpful to Brennan. He is someone who can answer all his questions, reassure him that he is normal and just as good as everybody else,even if his body isn’t wired to need sex.

What I loved most about this book was how complex the characters are. There’s more than just the issue of asexuality that’s being discussed. Zafir is Muslim, follows the Muslim religion and he is teaching his own son about the teachings of Allah. Can you imagine a better time than right now to discuss/address the struggles of Muslim men and women, the discrimination and hatred people have towards them?

Zafir’s insecurities run deep and are not due to his religion only. Becoming a single father at 17 has been brutal, but his son came first. Even if that meant dropping out of high-school in order to care for him. Hard work and perseverance lead him to a GED and a string of retail jobs.

Currently working two jobs in order to afford a better life for his child doesn’t give him much spare time to spend with his so. But, he is aware of the sacrifices he needs to make. Zafir is aware that he will never have a successful career and that’s a sore issue for him. He and his son Tariq have dealt with a lot of loss over the years and it seems like Zafir is never good enough for people to stay.  He is either too poor, too short, looks too much like a terrorist, too uneducated, and lacking potential for more.

Even though his friendship with Brennan starts to feel like more and even though he starts to develop feelings for Brennan, he is determined to keep things as they are. If they don’t become more than friends, then Brennan will not find a reason to leave him and Tariq.

This book is about more than sex. It’s about how to fall in love with somebody you never expected to fall for. It’s not about sexual attraction. It’s about emotional attraction and soul-deep connection. It’s about prejudice and struggles, about self-discovery and learning to accept that being different still means being normal. It’s about a child struggling to accept that the people he loves always leave. About an adult struggling with his sense of self-worth.

I learned so much from this book, or maybe learned isn’t exactly the right word. Sure, I’ve heard of asexual people. I’ve read about them even. But, I never truly grasped what it really means and how it truly feels. This book has become personal to me. It helped me understand things about myself that I never considered.

It was beautiful, enlightening and has a beautiful happy ending!

Recommended!

* I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review through http://mmgoodbookreviews.wordpress.com *

Check out the other blogs on the blog tour