Hi guys, we have Rick R. Reed popping in today with his new re-release Hungry for Love, we have a great excerpt and a brilliant $10 NineStar GC giveaway so check out the post and enter the giveaway! ❤️ ~Pixie~
Hungry For Love
by
Rick R. Reed
Nate Tippie and Brandon Wilde are gay, single, and hoping to meet that special man, even though fate has not yet delivered him to their doorstep.
Nate’s sister, Hannah, and her kooky BFF, Marilyn, are poised to help fate with that task by creating a profile on the gay dating site, OpenHeartOpenMind. They are only exploring, but when a face and body are needed for the created persona, they use Nate as the model.
When Brandon comes across the false profile, he falls for the guy he sees online. Keeping up the charade, Hannah begins corresponding with him, posing as Nate.
However, real complications begin when Brandon wants to meet Nate, who doesn’t know he’s being used in the online dating ruse. Hannah and Marilyn concoct another story and send Nate out to let the guy down gently. But when Nate and Brandon meet, they feel an instant and powerful pull toward each other. Cupid seems to have shot his bow, but how do Nate and Brandon climb out from under a mountain of deceit without letting go of their chance at love?
Bryan T. Clark has a new contemporary MM romance out:
Far Away
And there’s a giveaway!
First love can save you … and ruin you …
Eighteen-year-old Noah Rothenberg spent the prefect summer with his first love, the charming and seductive Spiro. He fell head over heels in love from what started as a clumsy crush.
But that was twelve years ago. His relationships since have been spectacular failures because of how things ended with Spiro. If he has any hope of moving forward, he needs to find Spiro and get some closure … even if he has to fly halfway around the world to do it. Too bad he instead finds himself falling—again—for the man who ruined him for all other men.
Love isn’t an emotion Spiro Papadopoulos entirely trusts anymore. He’s far too pragmatic for that. His focus these days has to be on his art and caring for his ailing mother. Being with Noah again is easy and feels so right … but is it love? Spiro isn’t sure. Besides, with his entire life being tied to Greece and Noah’s to New York, love might just be a luxury neither of them can afford.
Can Spiro and Noah overcome the oceans and years between them—or will their second chance at love end as badly as their first?
Hi guys! We have Bryan T. Clark popping in today with his upcoming release, Far Away. Bryan’s a multi-published Rainbow Award-winning author and a Lambda Literary (Lammy) and International Book Award Finalist. His gay romance novels are compelling, engaging and complex and leave his readers fully and completely satisfied.
Can you describe what your latest novel is about in one or two sentences.
Far Away as about a love that blooms in childhood and spans over decades. It’s the story of two boys, one summer, and a love so grand that, in their adulthood, neither can forget the day they met. An imprint on their hearts that, even with all that life threw at them, kept their love alive. The main characters, Noah and Spiro are these two guys that life hasn’t been that kind to, and they make it!
Would you say that Noah and Spiro were soulmates?
I don’t really believe in soulmates, but I do believe there is someone for everyone. The difference is that I think of soulmates as you will always be together. Well, that’s not reality, shit happens and relationships end. Sometimes, relationships are hard. You have to work at it, paying attention to the other person’s needs, and when those needs change for whatever reason, you have to be willing to adapt.
In an age where it’s hard to come up with new ideas, something fresh, some say that you’re doing just that. What makes your writing stand out from the crowd?
I don’t know if I do stand out. There are some amazing writers in this genre. I just write and within my writing are bits and pieces of me, who I am, my life. How I became the person I am today comes through in my writing. None of it is 100% fictional, there’s a little truth about me in every book.
In Far Away, Noah, has IBS/Irritable bowel syndrome. Why IBS?
Growing up, I had a close friend who suffered from IBS. As a gay young male in his prime, we partied a lot within the gay culture/community. When the rest of us were drinking and having copious amounts of cheap sex, he was often battling and managing his disease. For him, IBS was the dictator and eliminator of all that we enjoyed as promiscuous gay men. IBS really fucked with his self-esteem. In each of my books, I always want to give you, the reader, something that makes you say, hmmm, I’ve never thought about that…. IBS was that in Far Away. It’s a horrible disease to live with and affects all aspects of a person’s life.
What advice would you have for other writers?
First and foremost, writing a book is hard work, and if done right, takes a long time. But if you’re seriously bent on writing that story deep within you, then just write the story, DON’T try to write a book. People think there are all these rules on how to write, and they just don’t know where to start, so they never do anything. Get your story on paper and then develop it into the next great novel. If you’ve never written a book, join a writer’s group online, read books on character development and how to strengthen your plot, take a writer’s course, do something to understand the industry and what goes into developing a great story. It’s rarely the story itself, it’s how it’s told.
Tell us something unexpected about yourself that will surprise people!
I was an investigator for twenty-seven years prior to releasing my first book, Ancient House of Cards back in 2014. Although I dabbled a little with writing fiction in high school, I never had any aspirations of being a published author. I just wrote for fun.
Well, thank you for sharing a little about you and your latest book, Far Away. Where can we buy it?
You can find all my books, as well as lots of extras, on my website, www.btclark.com. Or you can just go straight (no pun intended) to the Amazon or B&N website and order it in paperback, or for your reader.
Bryan is currently on his book tour promoting his latest novel, Far Away.
For more information visit www.BTClark.com
Excerpt
“Good morning, Mr. Rothenberg.” Eros put a hand on his knee to steady himself as he stood. Aloof in the shadows, Spiro held his gaze on him. Noah couldn’t look away as Spiro’s eyes washed over him from head to toe. Were they brown or green? Afraid he’d stared too long, he broke eye contact, his eyes sweeping past the visitor’s long dark sideburns that cupped his ears.
“Sorry to disturb you.” Noah’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried to put on a cool and collected face, not wanting to seem like the dork that he was. “I was hoping you could help this morning with the rowboat.” His thumb pointed to the boathouse, but his eyes remained on Spiro. Face-to-face, Eros’s nephew was… beautiful. A statue of beauty.
Noah tried to look away but couldn’t. Yes, Spiro was a hair taller than he. His square jawline, straight nose, and jade eyes rimmed in gold were mesmerizing. Noah’s heart sped as he broke eye contact. Excitement swirled in his gut at the proximity of this Adonis.
“Sure.” Eros tossed his hammer into his box of tools. Noah’s eyes followed Eros as Eros turned and spoke to his nephew.
Noah’s eyes drifted to Spiro’s bow-shaped lips before moving up to his eyes. Their eyes met, causing Noah’s heart to skip a beat. Noah had no idea what he saw in those cat eyes that were staring intensely back at him and caused his heart to flutter. It wasn’t disdain, dominance, or dismissal, the usual looks his peers gave him upon meeting him for the first time. It was… he’s really looking at me.
Everything about Spiro enthralled him. No longer wishing away the next two months before he could escape to Harvard, he was cautiously excited about the summer.
“Hi, I’m Noah.” He felt the heat of a blush on his cheeks as he extended his hand. Spiro looked directly at him; his deep stare instantly pinned Noah. His dark locks of hair, jet black, ran the length of his neck and curled at the nape of his neck. Noah tried to release a breath quietly. Adrenaline pumped through his veins like the multiple streams that fed into Lake Winnipesaukee. He’d never acted this boldly when it came to meeting someone. The way Spiro looked at him gave him the boost of confidence that he could actually stand here and talk to him. This was a first, and it surprised him.
Spiro shook Noah’s hand. “Um, my English is not so good. My name is Spiro.” A deep voice cast from his full lips. Spiro saying his own name sounded more exotic than when Noah’s grandmother said it.
Geeze Louise, his teeth are perfect, too. They’re so freaking white. Noah stumbled over his own words as he searched for something to say. Spiro’s gaze kept Noah from looking for more than a second before lowering his head.
Author Bio
Bryan T. Clark is a multi-published award-winning author of gay romance, and contemporary books.
In his early in life, Bryan learned that he was different from everyone else in his world. As a young African American boy, he was the second to the youngest of seven children. Long before hormones kicked in and the realization of same sex attraction, it was his light skin and blond hair that made him different from those around him. Teased within his own race for being lighter than everyone else, the kids on the playground called him “Cornbread”.
As a writer, Bryan has taken back the power once given up to those schoolyard bullies. He is committed to bringing his readers stories of real life, with multicultural characters, riveting plots, and where the underdog always wins. He is the founder of Cornbread Publishing: the name empowers him and is a constant reminder that life can have a Happily-Ever-After.
Born in Boston, Massachusetts, Bryan and his husband of thirty-six years has made their home and life in the Central Valley of California.
Genre: Contemporary, elementary teacher, gay marriage, grief, Lake Union, men with pets, receptionist, romance, same-sex marriage, Seattle, second chances, Washington State, wedding planner
That’s what Duncan Taylor’s sister, Scout, tells him. Scout has everything Duncan wants―a happy life with a wonderful husband. Now that Seattle has made gay marriage legal, Duncan knows he can have the same thing. But when he proposes to his boyfriend Tucker, he doesn’t get the answer he hoped for. Tucker’s refusal is another misstep in a long line of failed romances. Despairing, Duncan thinks of all the loving unions in his life―and how every one of them is straight. Maybe he could be happy, if not sexually compatible, with a woman. When zany, gay-man-loving Marilyn Samples waltzes into his life, he thinks he may have found his answer.
Determined to settle, Duncan forgets his sister’s wisdom about love and begins planning a wedding with Marilyn. But life throws Duncan a curveball. When he meets wedding planner Peter Dalrymple, unexpected sparks ignite. Neither man knows how long he can resist his powerful attraction to the other. For sure, there’s a wedding in the future. But whose?
Same-sex marriage had just become legal in Washington State, and Duncan Taylor didn’t plan on wasting any time. He had been dating Tucker McBride for more than three years, and ever since the possibility of marriage had become more than just a pipe dream, it was all Duncan could think of. He thought of it as he gazed out the windows of his houseboat on Lake Union on days both sunny and gray (since it was late autumn, there were a lot more of the latter); he thought of it as he stood before his classroom of fourth graders at Cascade Elementary School. He thought of it when he woke up in the morning and before he fell asleep at night.
For Duncan, marriage was the peak, the happy ending, the icing on the cake, the culmination of one’s heart’s desire, a commitment of a lifetime, the joining of two souls. For Duncan, it was landing among the stars.
And for Duncan, who would turn thirty-eight on his next birthday, it was also something he had never dared dream would be possible for him.
Now, too excited to sleep, he was thinking about it—hard—once again. It was just past midnight on December 6, 2012, and the local TV news had preempted its regular programming to take viewers live to Seattle City Hall, where couples were forming a serpentine line to be among the first in the state to be issued their marriage licenses—couples who had also for far too long believed this right would be one they would never be afforded. Many clung close together to ward off the chill, but Duncan knew their reasons for canoodling went far deeper than that.
The mood, in spite of the darkness pressing in all around, was festive. There was a group serenading the couples in line, singing “Going to the Chapel.” Champagne corks popped in the background. Laughter.
Duncan couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he watched all the male-male and female-female couples in the line, their moods of jubilation, of love, of triumph, traveling through to him even here on his houseboat only a couple of miles north of downtown. Duncan wiped tears from his eyes as he saw not only the couples but also all the supporters, city workers, and volunteers who had crowded together outside city hall to wish the new couples well, to share in the happiness of the historic moment.
And then Duncan couldn’t help it; he fell into all-out blubbering as the first couple to get their license emerged from city hall. Eighty-five-year-old Pete-e Petersen and her partner and soon-to-be-wife, Jane Abbott Lighty, were all smiles when a reporter asked them how they felt.
“We waited a long time. We’ve been together thirty-five years never thinking we’d get a legal marriage. Now I feel so joyous I can’t hardly stand it,” Pete-e said.
It was such a special moment, and it was all Duncan could do not to pick up the phone and call Tucker and casually say something like, “Hey honey, you want to get married?”
But he knew he had to wait even if patience was a virtue Duncan had in short supply. On Sunday, when the first marriages would take place, he planned on bringing Tucker to their favorite restaurant, an unpretentious little joint on Capitol Hill called Olympia Pizza. There, amid the darkened and—for them—romantic interior with the smells of garlic, basil, and tomato sauce surrounding them, Duncan would propose, saying something clever like:
“I’m thinking about changing my Facebook relationship status to ‘engaged.’ Would you mind?”
In his mind, Tucker would chuckle and then rub at the tuft of blond hair that grew from his chin, regarding Duncan with his dark-blue eyes. Duncan could see the flicker of the candle lighting up his man’s features as he held the silence for a few moments, building the suspense. Then he would say something like, “I think I’ll change mine too.”
That would be one way it could play out—very twenty-first century.
Duncan would then imagine all his friends and family congratulating the newly minted fiancés with “Likes” and words of encouragement and shared happiness. Maybe he could get their waiter to take a picture of them, holding hands over a sausage and mushroom pie, right after the moment when they went from two guys dating to two guys anticipating…marriage.
Duncan found himself wiping yet another tear from his eye. Sunday was going to be perfect.
Rick R. Reed is an award-winning and bestselling author of more than fifty works of published fiction. He is a Lambda Literary Award finalist. Entertainment Weekly has described his work as “heartrending and sensitive.” Lambda Literary has called him: “A writer that doesn’t disappoint…” Find him at www.rickrreedreality.blogspot.com. Rick lives in Palm Springs, CA, with his husband, Bruce, and their fierce Chihuahua/Shiba Inu mix, Kodi.
It’s been said that if you love someone, set them free. If they come back they’re yours; if they don’t they never were. But what does it mean when they come back into your life—as your sibling’s significant other?
At twenty-five years old, Cal Adams has only ever truly loved one man, the one who broke his heart three years earlier—Andrew Hall. Since then, he has searched for meaningful relationships but cannot smolder the flames of the past his family remains unaware of.
As the holiday season approaches, Cal’s younger sister, Claire, brings her boyfriend home to meet the family. When she arrives, Cal is shocked to meet her boyfriend, who is none other than Andrew. In a darkly humorous tale, Cal decides to show his ex what he missed out on.
Cal Adams sat at his desk and shuffled through some papers as he eyed the clock: 5:47 p.m. A mixture of excitement and anxiety churned uneasily in his stomach as the seconds hand ticked away. In thirteen minutes, he would relinquish his work responsibilities and prepare for what was sure to be a big night. A few days earlier, Cal’s parents had called to invite him to dinner Friday night for a special occasion—his baby sister would be home from college for the weekend.
Claire Adams was a senior in college and only three and a half years younger than Cal, yet he couldn’t help but refer to her as his baby sister; perhaps that was part of being a big brother. As Claire’s older brother and only sibling, Cal was a bit on edge about that night’s family dinner. After all, Claire wasn’t just coming home to visit; she was bringing along her new boyfriend to meet the family.
Cal tuned out the clinking of weight machines and the grunts of fatigued gym patrons as he sat in his office and concentrated on the circumstance at hand. His sister hadn’t had a boyfriend meet their parents since her junior year of high school, which meant this was serious. Cal and Claire had become very close in recent years, but he had not heard much about this boyfriend, including his name. Claire had always been one to maintain a low profile on social media, and only acknowledged she was “in a relationship” a month or so ago—without posting any photos. From what Cal had been able to gather from his phone calls with her, Claire and her boyfriend had only been seeing each other for about six months. So they hadn’t been together that long. Still, this was serious, which worried Cal a bit.
Being the big brother, Cal was somewhat protective of his sister, but he was happy for Claire, and he was sure he’d love her boyfriend. After all, Claire had a good head on her shoulders. However, this whole situation made Cal uneasy since it made him reflect on his own lack of success in the relationship department.
As the eldest sibling, Cal had always anticipated he would be the first to settle down. However, being twenty-five years old and never having been in a serious relationship, he often felt frustrated and unfulfilled—like something was missing in his life.
It wasn’t that Cal was undateable. On the contrary, he was quite attractive, with medium-length, dark-brown hair, piercing gray eyes, sharp features, and a lean build. He was successful, independent, and had an easygoing, fun-loving personality. In fact, he went on plenty of dates, but nothing ever seemed to pan out. Either the chemistry wasn’t there or things just didn’t advance. Cal hadn’t experienced genuine feelings for anyone since—
“Hey,” a friendly voice chimed, which snapped Cal’s attention back to work. A petite young woman with a pretty, freckled face and long, ginger tresses appeared at his office door.
“Hi, Sophie,” Cal greeted. “Getting ready to head out?”
“Yeah, my six o’clock canceled on me,” she informed him.
Sophie was a personal trainer at the gym Cal managed and also one of his closest friends. Sophie was a year his senior, and the two had been friends since childhood. They knew everything about each other’s lives: the good, the not-so-good, and the bad.
Cal glanced at the clock: nearly six now. “I’ll be leaving in a few too.”
“Any fun weekend plans?” Sophie asked.
“Well, I have that family dinner tonight, but I’m not sure if I would call it fun.”
“Ohh, that’s right!” she said. “Claire’s bringing home the boyfriend. What do you know about him?”
“Nothing,” Cal replied. “Honestly, I don’t even think my parents know much about him.”
“So this is a pretty big deal,” Sophie stated. “It sounds serious.”
“Yeah, it does,” he sighed with a lack of enthusiasm before he shut off his computer.
“Uh oh, sounds like someone’s big brother senses are tingling,” she teased.
“It’s not that. I’m sure this guy is great. And I’m happy for Claire, I really am. But I’m twenty-five years old and—”
“Cal, you can’t keep thinking like that. You’re young, and you’ll find someone.”
“That’s what all my friends say, but you guys are all in relationships,” Cal countered. “You and Rich have been together for years.”
“Believe me, you’re gonna find someone. Soon. I’m sure of it,” Sophie reassured him as she gave his arm a squeeze. “By the way, I forgot to ask, how did the date go with that guy last night?”
“Eh, it was fine…at first.”
“At first?” she questioned.
“Yeah, I mean, he was cute. We just grabbed a coffee. And he seemed to have a good personality.”
“So what happened?”
“He started talking about how he loves popping molly.”
“No!”
“Oh yeah. And then he told me Lana Del Rey’s music makes him horny. Those were his exact words.”
“What!” Sophie gasped in disbelief. “He did not!”
“I’m telling you I can’t make this stuff up,” Cal chuckled as he shook his head in disbelief. “And really, Lana Del Rey? I didn’t know melancholic songs could get someone all hot and bothered.”
“You’re such a normal guy. How come you always find these crazies?”
“I don’t know, I guess they’re drawn to me,” he joked. “But, in all seriousness, I hate these stupid dating apps. I wish I didn’t have to use them, but I don’t know how else to meet someone. Every time I do meet someone from the apps though, they’re crazy or—”
“Or you don’t feel the spark.”
“No. At least not like I had with—”
“Hey”—Sophie interrupted in a soft voice—“it’s been over three years.”
“I know. I know,” Cal stated. He stood from his desk and grabbed his charcoal peacoat. “And I’m over it—believe me—I am. I just get scared that—”
“Don’t be. You’ll have those feelings again. You’ll find that spark.”
“Yeah, I know,” he sighed with a slight shrug before he hit the lights and left his office with Sophie. The two exited the gym in silence and were soon embraced by the crisp air of late November.
Rob Loveless is a corporate communications professional, and currently resides in Pittsburgh, PA. He has been an avid reader and writer from a young age, being influenced by authors like J.K. Rowling and Dan Brown. When he’s not working or writing, Rob enjoys being active, exploring what the Steel City has to offer, and traveling.
Hi guys! We have M.J. Calabrese stopping by today with her new release For Your Entertainment, we have a great exclusive excerpt and a fantastic $20 Amazon GC giveaway so check out the post and enter the giveaway! ❤️ ~Mel~
For Your Entertainment
(Songs of Love 02)
by
M.J. Calabrese
The life of rock star, Dorian Gray and his lover, award winning film director Scott Newland, has been filled with highs and lows. Their love has transcended drug addiction and insecurities, but will it survive another’s revenge against Dorian?
Lead singer Dorian Gray, whose real life as David Niewitski is far different from his stage persona. Dorian is sensual, brazen and bold. Tall and handsome, he commands the stage. David has the voice of an angel and with his band, Absinthe, he reaches the top, but his personal life is a roller coaster of drug addiction, insecurities and a long-term relationship he fights to hold onto.
Scott Newland, award winning film director, has known David since they were children. They became lovers in their teens and eventually marry. He loves his husband, but tries to protect David’s deaf mother and loving father from their son’s self-destructive personality. David’s head strong personality, drug addiction, and his need to control places them all in danger.
This story shows the progression of these two men from friends to lovers and a backstage look at what a rock star faces onstage and off. As David would say, “My Name is Dorian Gray and I’m here For Your Entertainment.”
Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, Contemporary, family-drama, BDSM, interracial, pet play, friends to lovers, in the closet, abusive father, mechanic, sugar daddy
In the conservative East Texas town of Black Creek, you’re either old money or you work for them. Redmond Cole is the latter. The long hours he spends fixing fancy cars in the local garage are barely enough to support himself, let alone his sixteen-year-old half-sister, Katie. All he wants is a better life for the both of them, one that’s easy and real, but he has a secret. One that could blow up the meager existence he’s worked so hard to maintain.
Red is gay.
He doesn’t want to lie, especially to Katie, but Black Creek isn’t the most hospitable environment for those who are different. His secrets keep them safe. He’s all but resigned to a life in the closet when he’s propositioned by the dashing, wealthy Victor Itachi. What follows is a secret and intense sexual relationship that challenges everything Red believes about himself. When an unlikely friendship with the only out gay man in town opens Red’s eyes to new possibilities, he must make a choice: submit fully to the relative safety of Victor’s control or risk it all for a chance at real love.
Under the hood of a car, everything makes sense. Gears and wires. Oil and grease. All the parts fit together and just work. Each piece has its own function, a logic. Completely predictable even when damaged. Won’t turn over? Check the battery, the wiring, the alternator. Find the broken piece and the whole thing comes alive again, purring and growling and shrugging itself back into action.
I pulled my head out of the engine compartment of a Nissan Altima and flexed my back with a satisfying crack. The owner brought it in complaining of overheating. The repair was a simple one. Just a few hoses needed replacing. I wiped my grease-coated hands and folded my tall frame into the driver’s seat. I flicked the key, and the engine turned over easily. I tapped the accelerator and the temperature needle climbed before stopping at normal. I smiled and gave the dash an affectionate pat.
“Good girl.”
“Red!” I jumped at a sharp voice from inside the shop. I shut off the Nissan and stepped out to find my boss, Bo, poking his square head into the garage, gesturing for me to join him. Visible through a bank of windows behind him stood a neatly dressed man with long, ink-black hair and a troubled expression. I’d seen him before. Many times, in fact. He drove a silver BMW 5 series sedan, a fine machine and well-suited to a man like him, and he brought it in monthly for regular maintenance.
I always noticed. Not only the car, but the man. How the air changed with his appearance. How, like now, the gears in my head locked up and stopped moving, and all I could do was stare, mesmerized by the flow of his hair around his shoulders, the bow of his lips, his olive skin. He was nothing like the rednecks here in Black Creek. I struggled for a word to describe him. Pretty was what he was. Not in a feminine sense. More in the way you think of a Ferrari 458 as pretty. Sleek and stylish with a touch of ferocity lurking just beneath the shiny topcoat.
“Redmond!”
I jumped again, my eyes jerking back to Bo’s irritated face.
“What the hell are you doing? Get in here!”
Face hot, I slammed the car door behind me. I straightened my collar, immediately feeling ridiculous for doing so, and made my way into the shop.
“Mister Itachi,” he announced as I stepped through the door, “this is Redmond Cole. He’s our finest mechanic. I can assure you he’ll have you fixed up in no time.”
I nodded without raising my eyes, dirty hands shoved in my pockets. Mr. Itachi. Victor. I knew his name already, had seen it on intake forms and receipts, but unlike the other countless names I encountered daily this one stuck. He shifted nervously, his shiny leather shoes scraping across the shop floor. I lifted my eyes just enough to see his lips curl downward and lowered my head to hide my flush.
“I have a very important meeting in Longview, tomorrow,” he said, each word crisp and carefully formed. “It is absolutely imperative it’s ready by first thing in the morning.”
“Yessir.” My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, making the words thick.
“Trust me,” Bo assured him, slapping me roughly on the back with a meaty hand. “He’ll have it ready if he has to work all night.”
I frowned and swallowed hard as he gave my shoulder a tight, warning squeeze.
Mr. Itachi clenched and unclenched his hands at his waist, and he released a long sigh. “I guess I’ll leave it to you then.”
My tongue frozen in place, I nodded again. Bo released his grip on my shoulder and ushered the gentleman out in a fog of reassurances, each one laced with a subtle threat pointed at me.
Heart pounding, palms sweating, I retreated into the garage. I leaned heavily against the Nissan I’d just been working on. My coworker, Lawrence, squinted at me from underneath a Mazda 3, and I pulled myself up straight.
Goddammit, Red, get a hold of yourself.
“What is it with that guy?” he said in his three-pack-a-day voice, jabbing his wrench toward the windows.
My stomach clenched. “What do you mean?”
“Bo can’t seem to jump high enough when he comes around.”
I released a nervous laugh and shrugged. “Money talks, I guess.”
Lawrence snorted, disappearing back under the Mazda. Here in Black Creek, there were two classes of people: the obscenely wealthy and everyone else barely scraping by. Like every other East Texas town, we were founded on lumber and natural gas. Those who got in early prospered. Those who didn’t worked for them. Generations of people whose fate was determined by the luck of their great-great-grandfathers, though something told me Mr. Itachi’s story was different. The silver BMW pulled into the bay next to me, and I peered at it over the Nissan’s roof.
Courtney Maguire is a University of Texas graduate from Corpus Christi, Texas. Drawn to Austin by a voracious appetite for music, she spent most of her young adult life in dark, divey venues nursing a love for the sublimely weird. A self-proclaimed fangirl with a press pass, she combined her love of music and writing as the primary contributor for Japanese music and culture blog, Project: Lixx, interviewing Japanese rock and roll icons and providing live event coverage for appearances across the country. Her first novel, Wounded Martyr, is a 2019 RWA® Golden Heart® Finalist in the Contemporary Romance: Short Category.
Duke Webb has run the most successful bail recovery agency in Atlanta for over 20 years. That’s because he has a team of trained, competent hunters backing him up to keep his name feared on the streets. But Duke knows that nothing can go on forever. That’s what leads him to start his new training program.
Kellam Knight has studied martial arts under his sensei, Quick, since he was 8 years old. A tossed-out reject from high-society, Kell has a problem fighting on the right side of the law. When Quick offers Kell the opportunity to join Duke’s training program, he’s all in. Except he’s not prepared for the straight, over-confident, extremely disciplined, sexy man Brian has recruited to be his partner.
Tyrell Jenkins’ world was flipped upside down when his father never returned home from his last deployment. He’d been Ty’s teacher, mentor, his guide to living a righteous life as a good man. When Brian King – his father’s most trusted comrade – finally comes to him with the truth, he doesn’t come alone. He comes with trained men hidden in the shadows…and a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to join a brotherhood unlike any other.
Kell paused at the door with his hand on the knob. “Tyrell. There is something I want.”
“Name it.”
“I want to kiss you.”
Ty’s chest expanded. Kell was giving him his gift in return. His thank you for the rare gold lying against his skin.
Ty didn’t stop walking until his entire body was pressed against Kell’s from thigh to forehead. He bent down and placed his lips where he always did. Needing to make eye contact, he brought one hand up and caressed Kell’s cheek tenderly before reaching around and releasing his hair from the messy bun. Kell swallowed loudly. Ty grazed his lips across Kell’s temple and lingered there as he slid his hand into that thick mane, burying it deep until his palm cradled the back of Kell’s skull. His partner whined and rubbed his body against him. So pliant and at his will. Kell smelled like fresh soap mixed with the ginger and apple from whatever shampoo he used. Ty pressed in harder and plunged his other hand in, watching the long strands thread through his fingers. Kell’s hair felt like plush down feathers.
Ty’s joint was ’bricker than brick.
Kell lifted his head higher, aiming those pretty lips where he wanted them to be. Ty hovered his mouth just over his and paused there, inflicting a few more seconds of torture before giving in to what he craved. Kell rose onto the balls of his feet and took their suffering away. He touched their lips together, gently at first, before moaning deeply, tilting his head and flicking his warm tongue at Ty’s lips.
Ty’s composure shattered.
A.E. Via has been a best-selling author in the beautiful gay romance genre for six years now, but she’s no stranger to MM. She’s been an avid reader of gay lit for over fifteen years before she picked up her laptop to place her own kiss on this genre. She’s also the founder and owner of Via Star Wings Books, having published a couple great new up and coming MM authors.
A.E. has a Bachelor of Arts in Criminal Justice from Virginia Wesleyan College that she used to start her own paralegal firm after she graduated in 2008. She spent five years preparing and filing bankruptcy petitions for struggling blue collar workers who couldn’t afford to file with a lawyer. It was a rewarding and satisfying career… but another path called to her.
Writing.
A.E.’s novels embodies everything from hopelessly romantic to adventure, to scandalous. Her stories often include intriguing edges and twists that take readers to new, thought-provoking depths.
She’s recently celebrated her 20th book anniversary, and is kind of known now for her hardcore, play rough and love hard, bad boy, alphas. However, she does like to push herself to step out of her comfort zone, exploring different tropes, but she won’t push herself into a whole other genre. She’s head over heels for gay romance and she has tons of more hot stories to tell.
Be sure to visit Adrienne on her social media pages and subscribe to her newsletter to never miss another release date! Go to A.E. Via’s official websitehttp://authoraevia.com for more detailed information on how to contact her, follow her, or a sneak peek at upcoming work, free reads, VSWB submissions, and where she’ll appear next.
Shaun’s an outsider. He has a dark past and an even darker habit of cutting himself and burying his emotions under his skin. The only thing he’s got going for him is his guitar and a head full of lyrics.
When Jesse moves to town, bringing big bright smiles and warm blue eyes into Shaun’s dark life, he insists they become friends.
But that’s going to be a problem for Shaun. He’s never had a real friend before. Oh, and he’s also finding himself hopelessly attracted to Jesse’s undeniable charm, which is definitely not going to work out.
Being gay isn’t brutal and Shaun has an image to uphold if he’s ever got a shot at becoming the death metal God he knows he’s destined to become.
For the first time ever, Jesse almost had a room to himself.
The new house had four bedrooms. It was their house this time, so they could do whatever they wanted with it. They kept the bunk beds though, and as usual, Jesse got stuck with the top while Sam got the bottom.
Already, the room was covered in half-emptied boxes, clothes, various personal items, and discarded fast-food wrappers.
Jesse hung over the edge of his bed so he could see the tiny screen on their TV. His younger brother, Sam, had convinced him to do two-player in Call of Duty. He’d wanted to finish unpacking his stuff, but after an awful lot of complaining on Sam’s part about how completely bullshit it was internet wouldn’t be installed for almost a week, he’d agreed.
They were wasting a perfectly good Sunday evening and had been for the last few hours. Jesse sat with a blank stare, zoned out, the controller hanging loosely from his hands, when a soft voice from the doorway snapped him to attention.
“Jesse, I wanna come up.”
Brian stood in the doorway, a pout on his little round face. He picked his way into the room and stood directly in front of the TV.
“Get out of the way!” Sam’s hands were occupied. He nudged the three-year-old with his foot.
“Stop it,” Brian whined. “Jesse!”
“You should be in bed,” Jesse sighed.
“I can’t sleep. Lissa won’t stop crying.” Brian stepped over a pile of clothes and started up the ladder.
Jesse rolled his eyes, but he dropped the controller and crawled to the edge of the bed. He lifted Brian off the first rung and dragged him to the top bunk.
“Oh, man! I got you,” Sam laughed as he blew Jesse’s character away on-screen.
“Fuck you, I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Dude, Brian, go sleep with the twins. We’re busy,” Sam said as he started a new game.
“No.”
“Leave us alone! Go back to your room!”
But Jesse knew that wasn’t happening. Just as Brian had mentioned, he could hear baby Melissa wailing in the other room.
Monica shuffled past their door. She had PJs on, and her hair was bedraggled. The baby quieted somewhat, but that was just because she was getting attention. As soon as Monica tried to go back to bed, Lissa would start up again.
Brian watched Sam and Jesse shoot each other up. After a while, his head started nodding. The toddler slumped onto Jesse’s pillows and was soon fast asleep.
“So…are you nervous about starting school?” Sam asked abruptly.
“No.” It was the truth. What was there to be nervous about? “We’ve been to a million other schools before. This one’s no different.”
“I guess,” Sam said. “But…I don’t know. Those other schools were different— Crap!” he cried as Jesse’s character skillfully sniped his.
“Should’ve ducked,” Jesse snickered. He earned a middle finger for his efforts.
As they waited for a new game to load, Sam returned to the topic of school. “This is different,” he said again. “Like when we were living with Joey, that was temporary.”
“Mmm, another of Mom’s boyfriends,” Jesse agreed.
“Yeah,” Sam said. “But there’s no boyfriend here.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“I don’t know. What if we hate it? We’re stuck here,” Sam said tightly. “This is our home now.”
Jesse hadn’t thought about it like that. They’d been moving around since before he could remember. They’d stayed with friends and moved in with Monica’s many, many boyfriends. But Monica’s dad, their grandfather, had died about six months ago and he’d left them this rundown house in the middle of nowhere. Monica had considered selling it, but after a bad breakup with Joey, the last asshole boyfriend in Detroit, she’d decided to move them halfway across the country to make this hole-in-the-wall their own.
Nothing was ever set in stone, but from the way she talked about it, they’d be here for a while.
“It’ll be fine,” Jesse said.
“But what if—”
“Dude!” Jesse shot Sam in the head as he ducked out from behind a crumbling wall. “Are you going to play or what?”
It was a lame attempt at distraction, but it worked. Sam kicked the frame of the bed. The top bunk shook. “I’m gonna kill you,” he said.
Beside him, Brian stirred and moaned in his sleep.
Jesse sighed. He brushed a hand through Brian’s blond hair and lulled him back to dreamland as the next game loaded.
C.R. Scott is a self-taught writer with a BA in psychology. Her characters are flawed and imperfect and she loves them for it. They urge her to write their stories. She currently resides in the ever-changing climates of Ohio with her husband and two children. This is her first published book, with more to come. You can reach C.R. by sending her aneMail.
Colby Fischer is a bad boy with attitude and a chip on his shoulder. As a senior at a Southern California college, he knows this may be his last shot. He doubts he’ll ever become the hockey legend he dreamed of being as a kid, but he definitely doesn’t want to be an accountant. Things get interesting when he’s asked to train the new intern at his step-dad’s firm, who happens to be the troublemaker from his econ class. And the one guy Colby can’t stand.
Baseball is Sky Jameson’s life. He’s happy to be back at Chilton for his senior year, but he’s burned a few bridges and has a bit too much free time off-season. He could use the money and something to keep him busy until his season begins. But his accidental crush on his prickly coworker could be a problem. Colby is straight and Sky is in the closet. Their timing isn’t great, but the intense attraction is hard to deny. With his final season on the hockey team in the balance, Colby may have to decide if he’s ready to come out on the ice.
Excerpt
“What position do you play?” Sky asked, pealing the label off his water bottle.
“Right wing. Forward. Think of soccer where the front line moves the ball down the field. We do the same with the puck.”
“I know how it works. I’ve watched a lot of hockey.”
“Have you ever played?” I asked.
“No. Baseball was always number one for me. Besides, hockey is kind of…rough. There’s always a fight. And the game moves so fast, it’s hard to see the puck sometimes.”
“Not if you pay attention.” I raised my beer bottle in a mock toast and grinned. “And I like it rough.”
Sky pursed his lips and stared at me…or maybe he was staring at my throat. I couldn’t tell. “Me too. But not on the field. It distracts from the game.”
“In hockey, it’s part of the game. If you can’t defend yourself, your teammates, and the ice, you have no right to be out there. Might as well take up ice dancing or something,” I snarked, only half kidding. “And no offense, but ice dancing is a hell of a lot more entertaining than baseball. Trust me, I know. I played Little League for a couple of years. I used to beg the coach not to put me in the outfield. Geez, you could take a fuckin’ nap out there some days, you know?”
Sky laughed. “Fuck you. You obviously don’t know what you’re talking about. Baseball is a game of strategy.”
“Strategy my ass,” I huffed, smiling to take the sting from my words…even though I kinda meant it. “It’s one of those weird sports where everyone gets pumped when nothing happens. ‘Oh, it’s a no-hitter. That’s amazing!’ Sure…but nothing fuckin’ happened! No one hit the ball, no one rounded the bases, no one slid to home plate. No one had to even wash their damn uniforms! And you know why?”
“Why?”
“’Cause nothin’ fuckin’ happened,” I replied, taking a long sip of my beer as I let the sweet sound of Sky’s laughter wash over me.
God, he had a great laugh. It made me like him a little more. And yeah, as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I liked Sky. He was smart, talented, easy on the eyes, and he had a sense of humor.
“That just proves baseball players are smarter than hockey players,” he taunted.
“Said no one anywhere ever.” I held my hands up in surrender when he flipped me off. “Hey, I’m kidding. I like baseball fine. I told you I follow the Tigers. I still have the jersey my dad bought me when I was ten. Dude, I’d wear it if I still fit in it. What’s your position?”
“Shortstop. I’ve played almost every position at one time or another but I like it the best. You gotta be quick, have a strong arm, and good instincts. I also have a long wingspan. That helps.”
“Makes sense. I don’t know about wingspan, but you gotta be quick in lightning fast hockey too with quick reflexes. Big ol’ quads help.” I smacked my thighs and chuckled. “Mine are kinda huge.”
Sky gave me a lopsided smile. “I noticed. It’s hot.”
“You think muscular legs are hot?”
“I do. Believe it or not, it wasn’t your sweet personality that made me look twice. It was your thighs.”
I snickered. “That’s weird.”
“Maybe, but it’s true. You always wore shorts to summer school. I used to come in a little late so I’d get a good look at you before I sat down. I purposely didn’t sit next to you because I knew I’d get caught staring. And the one day I did, you were the one who got caught.”
“Are you telling me that all this started because of my thighs?” I asked, narrowing my gaze suspiciously.
Sky nodded. “Basically…yes.”
We held eye contact for a moment then busted up.
And when our laughter faded, the mood changed all over again. I felt that same crackle of heat and sexual energy I always did when I was around him, but this time I knew what it was. And though I might have been unsure, I wasn’t afraid.
I leaned forward on my barstool and motioned for Sky to close the distance. He brushed his nose against mine. I held my breath and waited for him to make a move. Any move at all. When he blinked, I licked the corner of his mouth then pressed my lips to his and closed my eyes.
Lane Hayes is grateful to finally be doing what she loves best. Writing full-time! It’s no secret Lane loves a good romance novel. An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters. These days she prefers the leading roles to both be men. Lane discovered the M/M genre a few years ago and was instantly hooked. Her debut novel was a 2013 Rainbow Award finalist and subsequent books have received Honorable Mentions, and were First Place winners in the 2016 and 2017 Rainbow Awards. She loves red wine, chocolate and travel (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband in a newly empty nest.
Relationships are hard enough between two people…can the four of us make it work? Or is love nothing more than a four letter word?
Polyamory…the first time Riot says the word, it feels like everything slots into place. Maybe I’m not greedy for loving both of my best friends at once…
For most of my life, I didn’t think I could ever have the kind of love I’ve been dreaming of, but somehow a sexy bartender with a major sweet tooth is making it all seem possible.
Maybe Riot is right: our capacity for love is bigger than most people let themselves feel. But will Leo and Hudson feel the same? Will they be willing to try to build this beautiful, complicated life with me?
If I can keep them from ripping each other’s heads off that is…
*** This is book two in the Love Logic series and can be read as a stand-alone. This is a MMMM story full of love and heat.
“Bish, hold up,” Hudson says, wrapping his thick fingers around my bicep to pull me to a stop. My heart beats harder at his touch, everything in me insisting I melt into him and give him anything he wants. After all, it’s what I want too.
I swallow hard and turn to face him. “What’s up?” I ask as casually as I can manage.
He steps closer, crowding into my space until all I can feel is the warmth of his body and all I can smell is his spicy whiskey body soap and a hint of the alcohol on his breath. He cups my face, and the move is so familiar at this point I don’t think I could keep myself from leaning into it if I tried.
“Come home with me?” he asks, his voice a low murmur that vibrates through me and strokes my cock awake without any effort.
“I…” My brain is foggy from the booze, but more than that, my body is quickly getting drunk on Hudson’s closeness. If I say yes, I know we’ll have a fun night together. He knows exactly how to touch me, exactly how to make me come so hard I’ll see stars for hours. I sway into him, my cock fully hard just thinking about how Hudson’s bare skin feels against mine. “Have to go home…alone.”
Hudson’s shoulders sag. He strokes his thumb across my cheek without saying a word and I wonder if he’s hoping to change my mind. His hot breath ghosts over my lips a fraction of a second before his mouth is on mine. I brace for a hungry onslaught, steeling myself to refuse him again no matter how good the kiss is. But, to my surprise, his lips move slowly against mine, which is strangely harder to resist than if he shoved his tongue down my throat and started grinding his erection against me. I put my hands on his chest, curling my fingers around the fabric of his shirt and parting my lips to deepen the kiss.
It’s entirely too easy to get lost in the sweet rhythm of his mouth, the familiar taste of his tongue, the comforting feeling of his body against mine.
He breaks the kiss without warning and I drag in a breath in an attempt to get my thoughts back in the right order.
Author K.M.Neuhold is a complete romance junkie, a total sap in every way. She started her journey as an author in new adult, MF romance, but after a chance reading of an MM book she was completely hooked on everything about lovely- and sometimes damaged- men finding their Happily Ever After together. She has a strong passion for writing characters with a lot of heart and soul, and a bit of humor as well. And she fully admits that her OCD tendencies of making sure every side character has a full backstory will likely always lead to every book having a spin-off or series. When she’s not writing she’s a lion tamer, an astronaut, and a superhero…just kidding, she’s likely watching Netflix and snuggling with her husky while her amazing husband brings her coffee.
John Faimu is an Australian-Samoan police officer who deals with hurt kids every day. He loves what he does, but he’s tired of the grind of shift work, and of trying to find a balance between his job, his family, and the young man who straddles the increasingly blurry line between both.
Caleb Fletcher was the teenager John saved from a cult eight long years ago, and he’s now the young man John wants in ways that neither of them should risk.
Eight years after his rescue, Caleb is still struggling with PTSD and self-harm. John has always been his rock, but now Caleb wants more. Can he convince John to cross a line and love him the way they both crave? And when the monsters from Caleb’s past come back seeking to silence him for good, will John’s love be enough to save him?
The Parable of the Mustard Seed is an mm gay romance featuring hurt/comfort, first times, found family, and angst with a happy ending.
Excerpt
Fucking hospitals.
John scrubbed his knuckles over his scalp. He felt more tired now than he had for a long time, and it wasn’t just the shift work. It was Caleb, and this place, and the knowledge that they’d been here before and they would be here again. Different hospitals, different beds, different scratchy blankets and too-cold air conditioning, but all of them stuck in the same old cycle.
Eight years of this.
It wasn’t always this dramatic. Most of the time it didn’t end in a hospital. Most of the time it was increasingly erratic behaviour. It was risk-taking. It was subtle and pervasive, but John knew how to read the signs. He’d talked Caleb down from plenty of metaphorical high places before. Enough to wonder every time if he was only delaying the inevitable. If Darren was, and the psychiatrists and psychologists were, and the pharmacists.
John sighed.
Of course it felt hopeless. It was almost three in the morning and he was sitting in a fucking hospital. Shit always felt dire in the middle of the night.
John reached out and brushed his fingertips against the back of Caleb’s right hand. His skin was cold to the touch, his fingers white and bloodless. Several of his knuckles were grazed. The wounds weren’t fresh.
Darren had said last week that Caleb had punched a wall. Out of nowhere. No warnings signs, no meltdown, just a sudden, furious burst of anger that had broken over him. And afterward, Darren said, when Caleb was sitting on the floor nursing an icepack, he’d refused to talk about it.
Sometimes even Caleb didn’t know what the fuck was happening in his head.
John’s fingertips brushed the wrinkled edge of the tape that held the canula in the back of Caleb’s hand. The plastic tape was dry and rough.
“I bleed and you’re here.”
Fuck
John straightened and turned his face toward Caleb’s. His face was pale, his lips colourless. Dark circles carved out hollows under his eyes.
“Your dad called me,” John said. “He’s on his way.”
Caleb’s gaze dropped away.
John leaned closer and frowned. “What the fuck are you doing, mate?”
“Bad night.” Caleb pressed his lips into a thin white line.
“Were you clubbing?” John gestured at his clothes: dark jeans, a tight shirt, and—what were the kids calling them these days?—expensive kicks.
Caleb inspected the bandages on his arm. “Yeah.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Caleb.” John was always there to pick up the pieces, but he didn’t coddle Caleb. He never had, not even at the start. “You think I drove all the way here to listen to you lie to me?”
“I was with a guy.” Caleb flinched as he said it.
“Were you safe?”
Caleb’s gaze faltered. “I was with a guy.”
“So you said.” John wondered what reaction Caleb had been expecting. “Were you safe?”
Caleb nodded, turning his face away.
John studied him for a moment, unsure how to react. A part of him was afraid to react at all in case any reaction was an overreaction. Caleb wasn’t coming out as gay—he’d done that at nineteen—but by admitting to a sexual encounter he was coming out in another way: Caleb was coming out as human being who wanted to be touched. A human being with sexual needs. This was a big step. The biggest in a long time. Nobody had expected him to remain celibate forever; nobody thought that was remotely healthy. But fuck, this big step had turned into a hell of a stumble, hadn’t it? Caleb was in freefall.
John reached out and squeezed Caleb’s shoulder. “Did this guy try something? Something you didn’t want to do?”
“No.” Caleb shifted. His worried gaze found John again. “No, it was me, not him.”
John nodded.
“We went to a hotel.” Caleb’s gaze slipped away again. “He said I was a slut.” His voice hitched. “Said I was bad.”
John moved his hand from Caleb’s shoulder to his cheek. Caleb was still so cold. “If you tell me he was being a prick, I’ll track the fucker down.”
“The way he said it, I was supposed to like it. Wasn’t his fault.” Caleb closed his eyes. “I didn’t even mind, not much, not when he was there.”
John sighed. “What happened when he left?”
Caleb shuddered. “When he left, all I could hear in my head was Ethan.”
John tensed, and tried not to let Caleb feel it.
“So loud,” Caleb sighed.
John withdrew his hand. “Look at me.”
Caleb opened his eyes.
“Next time you hear Ethan Gray in your head, you don’t listen to him.” John shook his head. “You call you dad, or your doctor, or you call me, doesn’t matter what time, you call me and I will be there. You understand me?”
Caleb jerked his chin in a nod.
“You don’t cut yourself, Caleb.” John frowned. “You understand me?”
“Okay,” Caleb murmured.
The worst part, John knew, was that Caleb meant it, and would go on meaning it right up until the next time he was holding a blade against his wrists.
You’ll break my heart one day, Caleb Fletcher, I know you will.
John forced a smile. “Okay.”
Caleb sighed and closed his eyes.
John watched him until he fell asleep, then got up and hunted down a blanket.
Lisa likes to tell stories, mostly with hot guys and happily ever afters.
Lisa lives in tropical North Queensland, Australia. She doesn’t know why, because she hates the heat, but she suspects she’s too lazy to move. She spends half her time slaving away as a government minion, and the other half plotting her escape.
She attended university at sixteen, not because she was a child prodigy or anything, but because of a mix-up between international school systems early in life. She studied History and English, neither of them very thoroughly.
She shares her house with too many cats, a dog, a green tree frog that swims in the toilet, and as many possums as can break in every night. This is not how she imagined life as a grown-up.
Lisa has been published since 2012, and was a LAMBDA finalist for her quirky, awkward coming-of-age romance Adulting 101, and a Rainbow Awards finalist for 2019’s Anhaga.
A second chance for romance on a scuba diving vacation plunges Anthony and Walter into deep waters—will they use love’s lifeline or go under alone?
Party guy Anthony Vallen believes in happy endings—just not for himself. He hits Key West for a vacation with friends, ready for some fun in the sun. To his horror, the owner of the local scuba dive shop is Walter Elkins—former scientist, meticulous control freak, and the guy who broke Anthony’s teenaged heart. Anthony throws up his shields with jokes and banter, but Walter draws him in by admiring him and listening to him like no one else has. Despite their painful past, Anthony’s defenses soften and his reasons for shunning romance no longer hold much water. But whether Walter will come on board remains to be seen. Walter has never gotten over brilliant, fun-loving Anthony, but he’s compelled to keep Anthony safe—not just from the ocean depths but from himself.
Soon Anthony and Walter are in over their heads, their love as unstoppable as the hurricane they find themselves in the middle of. To prevent their fears from pulling them under, Anthony needs to get serious—about his worth and his heart’s true desires, and Walter needs to trust—in himself, in fate, and in Anthony.
2nd in Series but can be read as a stand-alone. Second Edition, revised and expanded.
Excerpt
Miles led us onto the boat and murmured to me as we were getting settled, “You guys are getting the special treatment. Walter doesn’t usually run the cruise excursions anymore. I’m kind of surprised he’s doing it.”
“Miles.” Walter frowned at him, jerking his head in a come here gesture.
“Oops. Duty calls.” Miles gave me a wink and went to help Walter with the jibs or sails or lines or whatever.
I tried to relax and get into vacation mode. What had I told Jonathan mere hours before? I wasn’t going to give Walter Elkins one more thought! It was hard to keep that vow, though, with Walter right there, his hunky body on display, muscles bunching and lengthening as he knelt and reached and got things ready with his usual fierce concentration. Though I knew fuck all about sailing, I was willing to bet that Walter’s preparations were being done rigorously, completely, and perfectly. Even Miles had grown serious and attentive, responding to his terse directions as though it was a military operation.
Meanwhile I became aware of something happening in my body. It was the oddest thing. I’m usually a bundle of nerves and on the manic end of the energy scale. But as I watched Walter, my muscles began to loosen, like they were letting down their guard. A memory darted in of Walter, at the end of high school chemistry class, restoring everything to order in his methodical way, me chattering nonstop as I watched him, and all being right with the world. It had felt safe being around Walter. He’d taken care of everything, slowly and patiently. I could be my fluttery self—a butterfly flitting all over—because I knew he would be there when I needed to land.
Suddenly Walter lifted his eyes and gazed right at me. To my horror, I found myself smiling fondly at him, still in the glow of that long-ago time. I was probably making stupid goo-goo eyes too. He went red and dropped something on the deck with a clang.
“Walter! Watch what you’re doing,” scolded Miles with a mock scowl. He laughed, no doubt pleased that the perfect Walter had been shown to be human.
“Sorry,” Walter muttered, reapplying himself to his task.
I sat still, shaken by how easily I’d slipped into rosy Walter memories. What on earth was wrong with me? Safe? Walter was the guy who’d left me not once but twice, and so callously that I’d been protecting myself from love ever since. Screw him!
I tore my gaze away and caught Sophia watching me with a small smile. She leaned forward and whispered, “Anytime you want to tell me what that’s all about, feel free.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, doll.”
“Okay. If that’s how you want to play it.” She leaned back and lifted her face to the sun. “Ah. It’s so awesome to be back in the sunshine.”
Marco lounged in his seat, looking fucking stupendous, his arm around Jonathan, who rested his head on Marco’s shoulder. I must have been rattled by Walter’s reappearance, because my walls suddenly cracked. Pain lanced through me, and I stopped kidding myself that I wasn’t pea green with envy. I so was.
I froze for a moment, stunned at myself. Could this be true? Could Anthony the Player be merely the facade, while underneath I wanted what Jonny had? Not that I wanted Marco for myself, but was I pining for a man to hold me like that and let me rest my head on his shoulder? All signs pointed to yes. How embarrassing! And how completely unlikely.
After years of hearing characters chatting away in her head, award-winning author CJane Elliott finally decided to put them on paper and hasn’t looked back since. A psychotherapist by training, CJane writes sexy, passionate LGBTQ romances that explore the human psyche. CJane has traveled all over North America for work and her characters are travelers, too, traveling down into their own depths to find what they need to get to the happy ending.
CJane is bisexual and an ardent supporter of LGBTQ equality. In her spare time, CJane can be found dancing, listening to music, or watching old movies. Her family supports her writing habit by staying out of the way when they see her hunched over, staring intensely at her laptop.
Zero Divergence, noun: no deviation from a course or standard.
After a key piece of evidence goes missing, a suspected serial rapist and killer evades prosecution. More than Royce Locke’s reputation is on the line when his investigation into the failed chain of custody suggests Franco Humphries might’ve had inside help. There’s no one Royce trusts more than Sawyer Key to help him right a wrong and uncover the traitor in their midst, but can they do it before the Savannah Strangler strikes again?
Relentless plus fearless equals flawless. Sawyer and Royce have come full circle—from hostile strangers to best friends and lovers. Neither a sniper’s bullet nor an arsonist’s fire could keep them apart, but what about a psychopath hell-bent on revenge? The stakes are high, and there’s no turning back now because the zero hour is upon them. Tick tock.
Zero Divergence is the conclusion to the best-selling Zero Hour series, which follows Locke and Key’s investigations and evolving relationship. This is a series you MUST read in order. It contains mature language and sexual content intended for adults 18 and older.
Trigger warning: Part of the storyline involves coming to terms with a friend’s suicide, which may be difficult for some people to read.
“Oh my god,” he said as the chocolate cake melted in his mouth. “I need this for every occasion.”
“I’ll bake it once a week if you promise to listen to orders from now on,” Royce said, taking a bite for himself.
Sawyer met Royce’s stormy eyes. “I’ll agree to that if you promise not to give stupid orders.” He opened his mouth like a baby bird, and Royce gave him another bite. It was somehow more delicious than the first.
“No more burning buildings,” Royce groused.
“It wasn’t burning when I ran into it,” Sawyer countered. “You ran into the burning building.” He couldn’t be mad at Royce, because chances were, he’d be dead if Royce hadn’t risked his own life to pull Sawyer out of the inferno.
“So insubordinate.”
They stared at one another in a silent battle of wills for a few seconds before a big yawn ruined Sawyer’s fierce expression. “We’ll resume this after I take a power nap.” Smiling, Royce leaned forward to set the plate on the coffee table, but Sawyer stopped him. “But not until after I eat more cake.”
Royce aimed a cocky grin at him. “Got you hooked now.”
“You have no idea.”
Ever since she was a little girl, Aimee Nicole Walker entertained herself with stories that popped into her head. Now she gets paid to tell those stories to other people. She wears many titles—wife, mom, and animal lover are just a few of them. Her absolute favorite title is champion of the happily ever after. Love inspires everything she does, music keeps her sane, and coffee is the magic elixir that fuels her day. I’d love to hear from you
Roman “Quick” Webb is one badass bounty hunter on the crime-filled streets of Atlanta. He’s fearless when it comes to carrying out his dangerous job alongside his longtime best friend and business partner, Duke. However, there is one thing that has begun to cause Quick concern and it’s the dreadful thought of living out the rest of his life alone.
Dr. Cayson Chauncey has been wildly attracted to the big, tattooed hunter for almost a year, ever since he performed the surgery that saved Quick’s best friend’s life. Cayson must’ve mistaken Quick’s gratitude for something more, because the one time he tried to make his desires known, he was harshly rebuffed and left on the man’s doorstep feeling stupid for hitting on an obviously very straight man.
Dr. Chauncey stirred up Quick’s suppressed, most carnal desires from a place deep down inside of him. He’d reacted so badly the first time that now his sexy surgeon wanted nothing to do with him. It was going to take a fair amount of patience and a whole lot of wooing involved as Quick sets out to convince Cayson that he’s worth another chance and that he is the brave lover who Cayson has been looking for.
“Uh-oh.” Duke pointed at Cayson’s retreating back and Quick spun around, his laughter dying fast, replaced with confusion. He wondered where his handsome doctor was rushing off too, and without him. He told Duke to get in the truck, while he jogged up the sidewalk and caught up with Cayson.
Quick hooked Cayson’s arm and spun him around to talk to him. The look he got felt like a slap across his face. Lowering his head, he knew already why Cayson was mad, and decided to let him have it.
“If you are going to humiliate me in my place of business, then I’d prefer you not visit, Roman.” Cayson put one hand on his hip, the other he pointed back towards the ER’s doors. “What was that in there?”
“I wasn’t trying to humiliate you, babe. I was giving the good ole doctor there a dose of his own medicine. I’m sure it was a very hard pill for him to swallow.” Quick rubbed Cayson’s shoulder, inching in closer to him. He lowered his voice, hoping to hurry up and diffuse this bomb before it exploded and got out of hand. “Cays, I sure don’t recall Dr. Joe, or whatever, feeling this bad when he yelled out your secrets to your entire street. Did he even bother to apologize? No. Instead, he treated you like nothing again today.”
“None of that concerns you. That’s my business. Not yours. I didn’t ask you to fix this, Rome. I don’t need you to!” Cayson argued.
“I apologize. It was juvenile and unnecessary. I was only thinking of you, and that makes me do crazy things. It makes me overprotective. Makes me want to right all the wrongs done to you.” Quick chuckled mirthlessly. “I thought you’d want to see him squirm a bit, for a change.”
A.E. Via has been a best-selling author in the beautiful gay romance genre for six years now, but she’s no stranger to MM. She’s been an avid reader of gay lit for over fifteen years before she picked up her laptop to place her own kiss on this genre. She’s also the founder and owner of Via Star Wings Books, having published a couple great new up and coming MM authors.
A.E. has a Bachelor of Arts in Criminal Justice from Virginia Wesleyan College that she used to start her own paralegal firm after she graduated in 2008. She spent five years preparing and filing bankruptcy petitions for struggling blue collar workers who couldn’t afford to file with a lawyer. It was a rewarding and satisfying career… but another path called to her.
Writing.
A.E.’s novels embodies everything from hopelessly romantic to adventure, to scandalous. Her stories often include intriguing edges and twists that take readers to new, thought-provoking depths.
She’s recently celebrated her 20th book anniversary, and is kind of known now for her hardcore, play rough and love hard, bad boy, alphas. However, she does like to push herself to step out of her comfort zone, exploring different tropes, but she won’t push herself into a whole other genre. She’s head over heels for gay romance and she has tons of more hot stories to tell.
Be sure to visit Adrienne on her social media pages and subscribe to her newsletter to never miss another release date! Go to A.E. Via’s official websitehttp://authoraevia.com for more detailed information on how to contact her, follow her, or a sneak peek at upcoming work, free reads, VSWB submissions, and where she’ll appear next.
Hi guys! We have M.J. Calabrese stopping by today with her new release Mountainway Chant, we have a great exclusive excerpt and a fantastic Kindle Fire 7 and a copy of Mountainway Chant giveaway so check out the post and enter the giveaway! ❤️ ~Mel~
Mountainway Chant
(Coulter & Woodard 02)
by
M.J. Calabrese
Adam Coulter has returned and is coping with the horrific events of sixteen months ago as best he can, but not everyone is happy about it. His best friend and new husband, Detective Eagle Woodard, doesn’t want to speak to him and it’s starting to look like his fifth marriage isn’t going to be anymore successful than his other four.
FBI Agent Rick Kessler and Navajo Reservation Police Lieutenant Carlos Aiello, Eagle’s cousin, have pulled a reluctant Adam into another case. Five bodies discovered at the site of a planned casino, all dressed and painted up as Native American mythological characters offer confusing clues. Are they dealing with another serial killer?
Fighting to stay clean and sober, Adam’s 12 step sponsor is murdered. At first it seems unrelated to what he saw in the desert, but evidence comes to light that says otherwise. Revelations concerning Adam’s past and his father, Richard Coulter’s, connections to the local crime syndicate boss, Nelson Greybill, creates even more chaos.
Can Adam repair the damage he’s done to his relationship with Eagle so he can help him solve this case? Can he win back the only man he’s ever truly loved, or will the demons of his past win the battle for his soul?
PLEASE NOTE: This is the second book in a continuous series. For full enjoyment please read Warrior’s Way before reading Mountainway Chant. Contains murder and mayhem, as well as dealing with an alcohol and drug addiction. If these are triggers for you, please skip this one!
Crow, like all the other scavengers of the desert, had heard Vulture’s call. He had seen their swirling signal high overhead as they reeled and soared on the thermals. The message told of food, newly dead, ready to fill empty stomachs.
Suddenly, a glint of bright light from far below caught Crow’s eye. He blinked as he focused in on the source. Dipping a wing, he dropped toward the light. The green creature moved quickly, almost as quickly as Crow, over the desert floor. It bucked and shimmied as if Cougar was on its heels. Crow drew closer. Cawing his dismay, it was the Shapeshifter, Man, riding within this noisy monster. Crow paced Man’s creation and remembered how Man stole many a meal from Crow and his brethren. Such was the way of Mother Earth. Only the swift and strong survived.
Crow beat his wings hard, putting distance between himself and the Shapeshifter. Crow focused on the dark spot ahead. With any luck, Man would tire and fall behind leaving the spoils to him.
The Jeep Grand Cherokee barreled down the dirt road. Moving way too fast, it kicked sand and gravel high in the hot desert air. Anyone following behind risked serious windshield damage from the flying debris. The man at the wheel of the 1990 green Jeep SUV had the window rolled down all the way. His burnished brown skin dulled in the morning sunlight by a fine, powdery coat of dust. His long, dark hair whipped around his face by the rushing wind. Only once did his left hand leave the steering wheel to pull a strand of hair out of his mouth. His fingers strayed down to unconsciously trace the long, thin scar that blazed a trail from the corner of his upper lip to the top of his cheekbone, marring his otherwise perfect features.
The man raised his middle finger to push his discount store sunglasses up onto the bridge of his nose. Despite the early hour it was already getting hot. By noon, it would be over 100 degrees, a real scorcher for this late in the year. Switching hands on the bucking wheel, he cranked up the volume on the radio. The words to Runnin’ created by the masterful vocalizations of Adam Lambert overrode the noise of the rushing winds. The words of that song were his truth. He’d run all his life. The time to stop was now. Cranking up the volume, the sound nearly drowned out the noise of the already overtaxed engine as Dr. Adam Coulter pressed down harder on the gas pedal.
*****
Detective Eagle Woodard saw a cloud of dust making its zigzag way across this roadless section of desert. The SUVs and trucks nearby circled the crime scene like wagons in days gone by. Their blue lights strobing to mark the place they all gathered. Eagle ran his calloused hand through his short, raven hair before reseating his sweat damp ball cap on his head. He sighed. He had regretted cutting his hair almost as soon as he’d done it. A few weeks ago, too much alcohol and a dose of melancholy had caused him to pick up a pair of scissors. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be done about it now, but to start the arduous task of letting it grow back out.
The older model green Jeep skidded to a halt about 30 feet away, causing a choking cloud of dust to waft over the scene. Eagle raised one eyebrow. Jaw tensing. He barely recognized the man in the SUV. He watched as the man pulled his long, brown hair back into a ponytail, securing it with a black, wrapped-rubber band. An Army surplus, long sleeve shirt covered a khaki colored tank tee. He was surprised to see Adam in such an old vehicle. In the past, Adam wouldn’t’ve been caught dead in anything less than some flashy SUV costing ten times what the late model Jeep cost. The grapevine said a lot of things had changed with his former lover. Rumor had it, he’d lost all his money. Gone were the expensive suits and watches costing over one hundred grand. No more two hundred dollar haircuts. Now he was living in the low rent area of Albuquerque and buying his clothes at thrift stores, and if what he had on was an example, then those rumors might hold some truth. With a smirk, Eagle snorted as he strode toward the dark green Jeep. For a moment, he could almost believe there was a God. It looked like Adam Coulter had finally gotten what he deserved. He had needed something to make him humble. No more silver spoons. No more unlimited bank accounts.
Maria Woodard, Eagle’s mother, told him she’d seen Adam at a local church where they held AA meetings during the day. She said he was quieter, almost shy with her, and sad. That he was very different from the man they knew. She claimed he had cleaned up his act. That he no longer used or drank, but Eagle had seen this pattern repeated over and over in the past. It never lasted very long. He wasn’t looking forward to this meeting, but he knew it was inevitable since the day he’d heard that Adam Coulter had returned.
His husband had disappeared for over a year before returning to Albuquerque, New Mexico. Since his return two months prior, they still hadn’t talked. Adam had tried to contact him repeatedly and Eagle had to give the man props for his persistence with texts and emails. He’d even come to the house one night, pounding on the door, demanding that Eagle open it and talk to him, but he hadn’t. The pain of his lover’s abandonment was still too great. Now they had a crime scene where both would join their skills to solve the murder of the five men lying on the ground in front of him.
The dust covered Jeep’s engine popped and groaned as it tried to cool itself in the growing desert heat. Looking over at the passenger seat, Adam snatched up his iPhone. He was looking at it as he started to open the car door. Suddenly the door slammed back, hitting him hard in the thigh.
Adam jumped. Eyes wide with surprise. “What the fuck?”
Eagle held onto the door, preventing Adam from getting out. “Why are you here? You don’t work for the APD anymore.” The tall, angry man growled.
A deep, familiar voice chimed in behind him. “I asked him to come.” Eagle turned. His cousin, Carlos Aiello, Lieutenant with the Navajo Reservation Police, stepped forward. The two men stood apart, bodies tense, readying for the fight. Their eyes locked on one another, each Alpha male testing the other’s resolve.
Quickly evaluating the situation, Adam sighed, “I think I’ll stay here until you two get done with your pissing contest.” He relaxed back in his seat. One hand rubbing the sore spot on his leg. He knew he had to tread carefully here.
About M.J.!
My mother now regrets her fateful words she offered the day I came home from our small town library in Palm Springs, California (yes, I’m a Cali girl) complaining that there were no more books to read. “Then why don’t you write some.”
My father never saw his old Remington portable until I entered college and they gifted me an IBM Selectric. By then I had produced at least two dozen unpublishable novels which make me cringe when I read them today.
I found inspiration in innumerable odd jobs (from migrant work as a Date palm pollinator to the person who cleans the washing machines at the launderette to professional Dominatrix) for stories. After a stint in Rehab for Alcohol and Heroin abuse (so when I write those scenes, I know what I’m talking about), I cleaned up and have stayed that way for 29 years. (Me and Sir Elton, LOL). My gypsy lifestyle gave me a unique perspective on the different people who inhabited the Washington, Oregon, Arizona, California, and New Mexico areas where I have lived.
After 3 very bad marriages to men, I finally figured out what was wrong and fell in love with a woman when I lived in Portland, OR 23 years ago. We’ve been married since 2008 (yes it was legal in California at that time). We now live in Asheville, NC and love the people in this liberal and accepting corner of the mountains of North Carolina.
To learn all about my upcoming releases, news, and specials, please follow or like me at any of the following links!
Spencer Kent gave up on love a long time ago. As a twenty-eight-year-old single father with a fourteen-year-old son, Connor, he knows his appeal to the average gay man is limited, and when you factor in his low self-esteem and tendencies towards rudeness and sarcasm, it might as well be nonexistent. But that’s okay. A man is the last thing Spencer needs or wants.
Tim Ellis’s life is falling apart around him. After four years of hard work at college, he finds himself blacklisted from the career of his dreams by the professor he refused to sleep with and abandoned by the boyfriend he thought he was going to marry. Even though he was lucky enough to land a job at a bakery, he still feels like a failure.
Tim and Spencer’s first meeting is filled with turbulent misunderstanding, but Tim makes a connection with Connor through a Big Brother/Big Sister program, and both men put aside their mutual dislike for his sake. By letting go, they may help each other find their way into a life they never could have imagined.
“What do you want, Jamal?” Spencer Kent asked, not glancing up from his phone as he furiously tapped the screen. Commanders of Warfare 3, a Four Square clone where people built up a character and “conquered” real-world locations, was his latest obsession, and he was so close to reclaiming his rightful spot as the Great General of Laurence Tureaud High School from the little prick who kept taking it away from him. Whoever CaptainSpock77 was, Spencer knew he had to be a student, because he never knocked Spencer off during class. It was always right before school or during sixth period—which he assumed was the bastard’s lunch period—and Spencer was determined that this would be the day he’d vanquish his foe forever.
Still, even with most of his attention focused on glorious conquest, he couldn’t help noting that being able to recognize one of his new students by the sound of their voice six days into the new school year was never a good thing. Spencer once had a dog who’d, according to his parents, gone through three different names before he finally remembered to keep calling him Avery. Personally, he doubted the accuracy of that story, but he’d be the first to admit he was pretty shit at remembering names unless the person in question was a Bringer of Stress.
And, sure enough…
“If I didn’t do the essay, but I still read the story, do I still get credit?”
Spencer stifled his first exasperated sigh of the day. “No, Jamal.” He winced as his commander lost half its health bar. “The whole point of the essay was to show you read the book.”
“But I did read it.”
“And how am I supposed to know that if you didn’t do the essay?”
“You could trust me?”
Spencer didn’t have to look up to know there was a cheeky grin on the kid’s face. He could sense it.
“I could also throw myself in front of a train. Doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.”
A decent number of kids chuckled. “That’s cold, Mr. Kent.” Not as cold as the icy ball of despair that will form in the chest of CaptainSpock77 when I win this battle. “My pops says all this literature stuff is bullshit anyway, and I ain’t never gonna use it in the real world.”
“Language,” Spencer droned. “And your dad’s right. You aren’t ever going to use anything I teach you outside of this class unless you decide to study literature in college. But. You’re still inside my classroom for the rest of the year, and until then, you need to do the work you’re assigned, or you’ll be right back here next year doing the same—son of a bitch!” he finished with a hiss as his commander fainted, and two adorable, blushing anthropomorphic ambulances carried it off on a stretcher.
How the fuck did I lose? I had it!
“Language, Mr. Kent.”
The bell rang, signaling the beginning of first period, and the end of Spencer’s noble crusade to free the school from tyrannical bondage. It took more effort than he’d care to admit to keep from throwing his phone at the wall. Fucking mobile gaming was going to kill him.
What kind of shitty algorithm picks a school as a command center anyway?
Spencer glared up at Jamal. The kid standing in front of his desk was ridiculously tall for a fourteen-year-old, and Spencer was a short man who liked to keep his chair as low to the ground as possible, so some of the intimidation factor was probably lost. Sure enough, there was the cheeky smirk.
“Class,” Spencer called out, not even trying to keep the growl out of his voice. He was pleased to see a few flinches from the more perceptive and easily rattled students. “Be sure to take the time to thank Jamal for the surprise quiz you’re going to be taking today.”
There came a chorus of groans and some scattered “fuck you, Jamal’s” he decided to ignore. Jamal scowled, but Spencer merely raised an eyebrow and pointed at his assigned seat toward the back of the room. “Unless you want a desk closer to me, I suggest you take your seat and get out some paper. I’m thinking this test will take the form of an essay question.” He raised his voice. “Hopefully, the rest of you got some practice writing essays over the weekend.”
His words were met with another louder round of groans. Spencer smiled to himself.
Spreading the misery rarely failed to improve his mood.
Dan lives in Ohio (as people do) with his husband and the most adorable little rescue dog ever. His three favorite things are The Empire Strikes Back, winter, and RPGs. His least favorite thing is pizza. Since the age of twelve, it’s been his dream to write something good enough to get published and, after over a decade of unforgivable procrastination, he actually managed to get it done. Thankfully, what he finally ended up writing turned out much better than the Spider-Man and Eminem fan fiction he wrote in sixth grade. His new dream, which will hopefully take less time to achieve, is to own two Netherland Dwarf bunnies named Bunnedict Thumperbatch and Attila the Bun. You can find Dan onTwitter.
Genre: Contemporary Young Adult, LGBTQIA+, Young adult, contemporary, family-drama, interracial, gay, in the closet, immigrant family, high school, mentor
RV is a good kid, starting his freshman year at the demanding Boston Latin School. Though his genes didn’t give him a lot of good things, they did give him a decent brain. So he’s doing his best to keep up in high school, despite all the additional pressures he’s facing: His immigrant parents, who don’t want him to forget his roots and insist on other rules. Some tough kids at school who bully teachers as well as students. His puny muscles. His mean gym teacher. The Guy Upstairs who doesn’t answer his prayers. And the most confusing fact of all—that he might be gay.
Luckily, RV develops a friendship with Mr. Aniso, his Latin teacher, who is gay and always there to talk to. RV thinks his problems are solved when he starts going out with Carole. But things only get more complicated when RV develops a crush on Bobby, the football player in his class. And to RV’s surprise, Bobby admits he may have gay feelings, too.
Chapter One—Why Can’t Life Be Like Pizza? Why can’t life be like pizza?
I’ve been asking myself the question a lot lately. I love pizza. Pizza makes me feel good. Especially since I discovered Joe’s. Joe’s Pizza is quiet and out of the way and allows me to think. And Joe’s combinations are the best. Pepperoni and onions. Garlic and mushroom. Cheese and chicken. And if you really want that little kick in the old butt: the super jalapeno. Mmmm, good. Gets you going again. And lets you forget all your troubles.
What troubles can a fourteen-year-old guy have? Ha! First of all, I’m not a regular guy, as anyone can guess from my taste in pizza. My parents are immigrants who are trying to make a better life for themselves here in the United States. Besides the usual things American parents worry about, like making money and having their kids do well in school, my parents spend more time worrying about the big things: politics, communism, fascism, global warming, and the fact they and their parents survived violence and jail so I-better-be-grateful-I’m-not-miserable-like-kids-in-other-parts-of-the-world.
Grateful? Ha! As far as I’m concerned, life is pretty miserable already. Instead of thinking about the World Series or Disneyland, I worry about terrorists down the street or the dirty bombs the strange family around the corner might be building.
I don’t know why I worry about everything, but I do. It’s probably in my genes. Other guys have genes that gave them big muscles or hairy chests. I got nerves.
And then there’s my name. RV. Yeah, RV. No, I’m not a camper or anything. RV is short for Arvydas. That’s right. “Are-vee-duh-s.” Mom and Dad say it’s a common name in Lithuania, which is the country in Eastern Europe where my parents were born. A name like that might be fine for Lithuania, but what about the United States? Couldn’t Mom and Dad have named me Joe, or Mike, or even Darryl? My brother, Ray, has a normal name. Why couldn’t they have given me one?
I even look a little weird, I think. Tall and skinny with an uncoordinated walk because of my big feet that get in the way and make me feel like a clod. Oh, yeah. I’ve been getting some zits lately, and I wear glasses since I’m pretty nearsighted. Not a pretty sight, is it? At least the glasses are not too thick. Mom and Dad don’t have a lot of money to spend, but they did fork up the money to get me thin lenses, so I don’t look like a complete zomboid.
What can I do? I try my best, despite it all. I’m lucky because I’ve done well in school, so at least my genes gave me a half-decent brain. Hey, I’m not bragging. It’s just nice to feel good about something when most days I feel pretty much a loser at so many things. When I was in grammar school, there were enough days when I came home from school and cried because some big oaf threatened me, or I got hit in the stomach during my pathetic attempts to play ball during recess.
Mom always tried to comfort me. “Nesirūpink,” she would say. “Esi gabus. Kai užaugsi, visiems nušluostysi nuosis.” We talk Lithuanian at home. Translated, that sentence means, “Don’t worry. You’re smart. When you grow up, you’ll show them.” Actually, not “you’ll show them,” but “you’ll wipe all their noses.” Lithuanians have a funny way of expressing themselves. Not sure I aspire to wiping anyone’s nose when I get older, but that’s what they say.
Whatever. I’m determined to put all that behind me. I’m starting a new life. My new life. Today was the first day of high school. I’m going to Boston Latin School. You have to take an exam to go there, so it’s full of smart kids. Besides smart kids, it has heavy-duty history too. It was founded in 1635, a year before Harvard. They already gave us a speech about that.
And about pressure. The pressure to succeed with all this history breathing down our necks. Pressure, ha! Doesn’t scare me. I know all about pressure. I’ve gotten pressure from cretinous bullies at school. I get it from cretinous Lith a-holes, who Mom and Dad keep pushing me to hang around with because they say it’s important to be part of the immigrant community. And I even get pressure from cretinous jerks in the neighborhood.
Cretinous. A good word. That’s something else about me. I like words. Real words and made-up ones. There’s something cool about them. Yeah, yeah, I know what people would say. You think words are cool? Kid, you’ve got more problems than you thought.
Well, I’m sorry. I do think words are cool. There’s something fun about making them up or learning a new one. Kind of unlocks something in the world. And I like the world despite all my worrying. It can be an okay place sometimes.
Okay, okay, I’m getting off track. I want to write about my first day of school. Mom and Dad gave me this new—well, refurbished, but new to me anyway—computer for getting into Latin school, and they keep after me to make good use of it. So, I’ve decided I’m going to write about my new life. My life away from cretins—Lith, American, or any other kind.
The first person I met at school today was Carole. Carole Higginbottom. She’s in my homeroom. She was sitting in the first row, first seat, and I was sitting right behind her. We started talking. She’s from West Roxbury, too, which is where we live.
West Roxbury is part of Boston. You have to live somewhere in Boston in order to go to Latin school. West Roxbury is a nice neighborhood, for the most part, with houses, trees, grass, and people going to work and coming home. Kind of an all-American place, I guess. We used to live in a different, tougher part of Boston, but Mom and Dad moved away from there because they said the neighborhood was getting too rough. They promised I wouldn’t get beat up so much in West Roxbury. I don’t know. West Roxbury is better, but I still have gotten a few black-and-blue marks with “made in West Roxbury” on them, so as far as I’m concerned it isn’t any perfect place either.
Carole lives in another part of West Roxbury, near Centre Street, which is the main street in the area. People like to hang out there. Mom says that part of West Roxbury is a little dicey. (Mom thinks a lot of neighborhoods are too dicey. Maybe that’s where I get my worrying from.) Anyway, Carole sure doesn’t seem dicey. As a matter of fact, she’s a little goofy. Tall and skinny with red hair, red cheeks, and a million freckles. And she has a really sharp nose that curves up like those special ski slopes you see in the Olympics. But I get the feeling she’s smart. She says she likes science. That’s good because I might need help with science. I’m better with other subjects like history and English.
Our homeroom teacher is Mr. Bologna, Carmine Bologna. He’s a little scary with slicked-back dark hair and even darker eyes that stare at you forever. He looks like he’s part of the organization we’re not supposed to talk about—you know, the scary one from Italy that’s into murder, racketeering, and drugs. Two guys were horsing around in the back of the class and Mr. Bologna came right up to them, said a few words under his breath, and just stared at them. Boy, did they settle down fast. I’m no troublemaker, but I’ll really have to watch myself. Don’t want to deal with the Bologna stare if I can help it.
Today was mostly about walking around, learning about our subjects, and meeting teachers. Besides all the regular subjects, I have to take Latin. I don’t have anything against it per se, but is it really necessary to learn a dead language? And then there’s the teacher, Mr. Aniso. He’s kind of light in his loafers. That’s another new phrase I learned recently. It refers to gay guys, and Mr. Aniso is so gay it hurts. I just hope he can’t tell anything about me. I don’t wave my wrist around the way he does, do I?
Yeah, that’s something else I have to come to terms with. I might be heading in that direction. Yeah, me. I can hardly believe it. Me! Why? It can’t be true, can it? I’ve been praying to God, asking Him not to make me gay, but I don’t think He’s listening. If He exists, that is. Maybe He’s not answering because He doesn’t exist.
I don’t know. People on TV and in books say being gay is okay. Movie stars and rock stars are gay. There are gay mayors and other gay political types. That’s fine for them, but they don’t live with my family. Mom’s a heavy-duty Catholic. Dad’s a macho, “what-me-cry?” kind of guy. And my younger brother, Ray, well, Ray probably doesn’t care one way or another, but he doesn’t count anyway since he hates everybody. And then there are all those Lith immigrants, the community that’s so important to Mom and Dad. Most of them are so Old World and conservative. I don’t think being gay would go down well with them.
Not that I am gay for certain. I’m just saying it’s crossed my mind because…well, because I think about guys sometimes. And I notice them. Notice how they look when they’re coming down the street. Notice their eyes or their hair or the way they move. Just notice them.
Oh, I notice girls, too, but something about guys is different. I can’t put my finger on it, but I think about them as much or maybe more than girls. And I want to be with them. Is that normal? What’s normal anyway? To be honest, I’m so inexperienced. Never dated. Never even kissed anyone. Not like that anyway. No, I’ve spent my time worrying about communism, terrorism, and global warming. Like I said, I’ve always felt a little out of step with the rest of humanity.
Dealing with all this is just too much. To be nervous about things the way I am. To be speaking a language most people haven’t heard of. To have a strange name. To wear glasses and look nerdy. And now I might be gay? It’s all too confusing. I might as well start on antidepressants, or something stronger, right now.
But no. I try to look on the bright side of things. Take Carole for instance. She seems nice and fun, and maybe we’ll be friends. And if she likes me, I can’t be too weird, can I? I guess I’ll find out. I better not think about it. There’s enough to worry about as it is. I just have to take a breath and focus on my homework. Yeah, we got homework already. At least that’s one thing I’m good at. And when I go to Joe’s, well, life’s not so bad, at least while I’m eating my chicken and cheese or super jalapeno slice.
Andy V. Roamer grew up in the Boston area and moved to New York City after college. He worked in book publishing for many years, starting out in the children’s and YA books division and then wearing many other hats. This is his first novel about RV, the teenage son of immigrants from Lithuania in Eastern Europe, as RV tries to negotiate his demanding high school, his budding sexuality, and new relationships. He has written an adult novel, Confessions of a Gay Curmudgeon, under the pen name Andy V. Ambrose. To relax, Andy loves to ride his bike, read, watch foreign and independent movies, and travel.
Blurb: The truth is rarely seen on the surface, and getting to it might mean digging deep….
After a devastating accident and a long stay in the hospital, the last thing petroleum engineer Sean Wilkinson wants to deal with is the settlement the oil company tries to force on him. He’ll never be able to work in his field again, his education is all but useless, and his surgeons are pessimistic about whether he’ll ever walk again. He needs someone in his corner, but most lawyers take one look at his tattoo-covered father and turn their backs. It’s just Sean’s luck that the one attorney willing to give him a chance is also the hottest guy he’s ever seen.
As a trial lawyer, Nate Delany has a lot to prove—to his father, the world, and himself. Sean intrigues Nate, and he struggles to reconcile the gifted tattoo artist he can’t stop fantasizing about with the quiet, brilliant engineer. His investigation reveals facts left out of the accident report—including an illicit affair, greedy coworkers, and a vicious corporation that will do anything to protect its bottom line. When Sean’s life is threatened, winning Sean’s case, and his heart, becomes a lot more dangerous.
Review: An intriguing read about Sean and how he copes after an accident leaves him in a wheel chair battling the company he worked for over a settlement. In steps Nate Delaney to negotiate the terms of the settlement.
These two men are not without their struggles in life but they grow closer amid a wide variety of suspicious things going on around them. I found both characters to be interesting. I liked the way they interacted with each other and others.
This story will draw you in and not let go until the very end. I enjoyed this story and it’s characters. Well written with the right amount of mystery and romance.
Blurb: ICraig Rosen thinks he’s pretty happy with his quiet geeky life working in a lab in London and playing Warhammer. But one of his colleagues has other ideas and drags Craig along to an audition at the amateur dramatic society, the Sarky Players, for their Christmas pantomime, Aladdin. Meeting Jason Carter makes Craig think that maybe he’s not as content as he thought.
Jason accepted he’s gay a little later in life than most, but now with an ex-wife and in his late thirties, he’s ready to embrace who he really is. He can’t believe his luck when he meets Craig, and the cute younger man’s patience and gentleness make him the perfect guy to help Jason navigate his new life.
While there’s no denying the attraction between them, it’s not just Jason’s insecurities that might upset their best performance. Craig is convinced that someone as confident as Jason, a corporate lawyer who looks sexy in a suit, could never settle for a man like him. Together they will need to re-write the script to give themselves the happy ending they deserve.
Review: Rebecca Cohen’s series, Treading the Boards, is as fun as the pantomime and plays that amateur theatre group the Sarky Players thrive on so much. While these books may be read as standalones, I do like that we do get to catch up with the previous characters so it would be good to read the previous installments.
In He’s Behind You we get the story of Craig Rosen and Jason Carter. Craig is a post-doctoral research at medical research labs somewhere in London. He’s a quirky guy, who has known who he is for a long time; including the fact that he loves the role playing game, Warhammer. Jason is a corporate lawyer who got married at the age of seventeen after getting his girlfriend pregnant. Now at the ripe old age of thirty-eight he is finally divorced and has made the step to come out of the closet. One aspect of Jason that I love is that he is still great friends with his ex-wife and his two kids are fantastic. These three make really good minor characters. But I am sidetracked, after a chance meeting Jason and Craig meet while auditioning for the Sarky Players.
For me it was way too easy to relate to Craig. Partly because I know people that are similar to him in personality and this also includes me, but mostly because this portrays academia and scientific research and generally life working in a lab with great accuracy. I should know: I’ve done the whole PhD thing and work in a lab. Craig and Jason work really well together, I loved and believed their chemistry.
Now that my psycho arch enemy Julio is dead, my big plan was to slowly stop taking jobs and wind down into retirement with Dillon. Partly that decision was because my heart’s not in the job anymore, but mostly it’s because I did a dumb thing and fell in love with the guy in 39D. But it’s too late to turn back now, I can’t imagine my life without Dillon in it.
Unfortunately, my good friend Ronin just got grabbed by Julio’s successor. I owe Ronin too much to turn my back on him. I need to get to Germany ASAP and save his ass, like he’s saved mine many times before.
The problem is, Dillon refuses to stay behind. How am I going to rescue my best friend, and keep the love of my life alive too? Dillon’s a civilian. He has no idea the level of violence and danger ahead of us. He doesn’t understand that with him along, the chances of me dying are much higher.
I may not it out alive this time, but one things for sure, Dillon will. I’ll see to that.
Review: Ronin has been abducted and Gianni needed their help. Marc would do anything to get his friend back but had not intended for Dillon to help. They were going to rescue a friend from a crazy ass bitch. However there are traitors among them. The problem is Ronin and Marc are assassins, but Dillon and Gianni are not. So what does an assassin do when their boyfriends want to help.
This is one of those series that you have to read them back to back with no time in between. It just jumps right into the action without any warning. Also these guys might be cute but damn they have more problems then a shrink can get to. Neither one seems to trust the other although they say different. Marc is a complete asshat to Dillon and Gianni. He had called in for some help but all these big bad assassins are missing one small item, a young college age looking delivery driver. The story is jumbled up and I didn’t care for the dual voices in the story. One minute it is Marc talking then the next it is Dillon, and lets face it, it just does not work out the way it should have.
There is a lot of danger and suspense going on but it went to fast. I just could not connect at all with this story and to be honest I could not really stand it. I will say that it is a good story but the way it is told not so much. I will say that it will probably not be read more than once.
My mother now regrets her fateful words she offered the day I came home from our small town library in Palm Springs, California (yes, I’m a Cali girl) complaining that there were no more books to read. “Then why don’t you write some.”
