Release Blitz: Everything Changes by Melanie Hansen + Excerpt & Giveaway!

Everything Changes by Melanie Hansen

A childhood in foster care taught Carey Everett to hold tight to what he has. Enlisting in the Marines gave him purpose, but a life-threatening injury ended his career—and took his leg. Now fully recovered, Carey’s happier than he’s ever been. He has a fulfilling job, a chosen family and, best of all, a cherished friendship with Jase DeSantis, the platoon medic who saved his life.

Jase knows how to take care of the people he loves. As the oldest of seven, and then a Navy corpsman, it’s what he was born to do. Still, he’s haunted by his actions overseas. Playing music with his band keeps the demons at bay, but it’s a battle he’s starting to lose.

After a week of sun and fun in San Diego, Jase and Carey’s connection takes an unexpected turn. With change comes a new set of challenges. For Jase, it means letting someone else into his deepest pain. For Carey, it’s realizing love doesn’t always equal loss. In order to make their relationship work, they’ll each have to come to terms with their pasts…

…or risk walking away from each other for good.

Available at: Amazon

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Talos by A.G. Carothers: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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Exclusive Excerpt from Talos

by A.G. Carothers

Bayne sat on the surprisingly comfortable padded wooden bench in one of the holding rooms below the Colosseum. His two days in the Colosseum were nothing like he had been prepared for. The city wasn’t like he had been told either. He hadn’t seen much of the human slums when they were smuggled in by fellow THRUST members who lived in the city, so he couldn’t attest to the validity of how run down and filthy he was told they were.

The first sight of the Colosseum had taken his breath. It was larger than he had imagined and shone brightly against the modern buildings around it. Bayne had had to crane his neck back to take in the whole structure. Stone statues decorated arches in the upper levels. Bayne had touched an outside column unbelieving that such a structure could exist amongst the steel and glass world around it.

When he’d entered the Colosseum with the other humans who sought out a chance to be transformed into a monster, he expected to be thrown into a cell and wait until they threw them all in the pit for the vamps’ entertainment. Nothing like that happened. They had been screened one by one, and Bayne thought his mission would end there if they discovered what laid in wait in his blood, but they passed him through.

He was then measured and outfitted in leather and iron armor. It wasn’t scale armor or anything fancy like a Roman soldier would wear but he wasn’t half-naked either. He had been told the king—even thinking of him with that title filled Bayne with disgust—was very particular about the authenticity shown in his games. The armor was high quality. He didn’t want to think about the amount of money wasted in just armor and weapons for this place. The armor he wore wasn’t new, but it was in excellent shape. They only had to make some minor adjustments to fit it to his muscular body. Next, he’d chosen his weapons. He’d been trained in several kinds of melee weapons over the years just for this mission.

Bayne went with the classic gladius and round shield. If needed, he could pick up others on the field. After he’d been given his armor and weapons, they showed him to a barracks building next to the Colosseum. He had been surprised it wasn’t under it, but it seemed they didn’t want their prospective new vampires to be shunned from the sun just yet. Like all the buildings in the city he had seen so far, except the Colosseum, it had numerous large windows.

All the cities were built like this, the windows served two main purposes besides looking out of. The first was to protect against UV rays, which the bloodsuckers were vulnerable to, and the second more important reason was to collect energy. After The Fall, a mass infrastructure change took place and over a decade, cities were transformed, small towns were destroyed, and the bulk of humanity was forced to live like cattle awaiting slaughter. Or so he was taught.

What little Bayne had seen of the human slums didn’t look very destitute. So far, he had been treated with respect and, dare he even say—courtesy. He wasn’t pampered by any means, but he had imagined far worse. They had fed them more than one meal and the foods were unlike anything he’d ever had. He was careful not to eat too much of the rich unfamiliar foods. A few had gotten sick the night before from overindulging. Maybe it was the vamp’s way of giving them all a last meal since most would not survive the games.

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Nightway Chant by M.J. Calabrese: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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Exclusive Excerpt from Nightway Chant

by M.J. Calabrese

“You are an enigma, Dr. Coulter. Oh, and you can drop the frightened abused spouse act. Like I said, I’ve done some research on you.”

Adam slowly raised his head as a grin formed on his face. Any signs of fear disappeared from Coulter’s eyes. “All right. It was getting a bit tiresome to keep up anyway. So why do you want to kill Eagle?”

“Oh, you know. Revenge. Hate. The usual crap.”

Adam shook his head and smiled, “Don’t bullshit me, Dean.” If he could’ve shrugged, he would’ve. “Tell me the truth. In the long run, you’re going to kill me anyway so who would I tell.” His smile broadened, “Remember the saying, the truth shall set you free.” Adam took a deep breath then stretching his right index finger out, he began to tap the chain holding that wrist. Slowly, rhythmically, he kept tapping. He lowered his voice. Making it deeper and softer. “Come on, Dean, consider me your father confessor. Look at me and tell me.”

Dean stared into Adam’s eyes for a moment before his gaze slipped on up to the one moving finger. He tilted his head. His brain unconsciously focusing on it. Adam’s monotone voice droned on, getting softer and softer. He began to answer Adam’s questions, casting caution to the wind.

“Eagle was my mentor. He was my lover. My protector, in the beginning.” Dean paused; eyes still fixed on that one point above his captive’s head. “Everything I did. I did for him. He understood me. He listened to me. He loved me… until Corporal Javier Duran came along. He was younger and prettier. I tried twice to kill him, but Eagle always got in the way. He protected him. That was when I knew he was going to leave me. He got the kid transferred out of our unit about a month after he got there. I tried to find him, but they made him disappear.”

“Who made him disappear?”

“Eagle and the Colonel. Duran’s the next one on my list. I killed all the others. Mims, Presnell, Torres, Mako, Kinzer, Rayne, Lee. All gone. Told them I would. Told them I would kill them and their families…, and I did.” Dean’s eyes drooped but weren’t quite closed. “Only Eagle, Duran, and the Colonel are left.” Dean’s voice softened as he began to drift off. He heard Adam’s calm voice but couldn’t make out what he was saying. His words trickled over him like a babbling brook. It was soothing and warm as he began to slip beneath the surface of Adam’s words until there was silence. He could feel himself breathing. He could still hear the barely-there tapping, ticking off the seconds. He could hear his captive’s whisper. 

Suddenly a sharp report tore him out of his calm. Pulling his gun from his waistband, he scanned the room, finger on the trigger as his heart rate raced. It took him a moment to realize where he was and who the man hanging in the middle of the room was. Slowly lowering his weapon, he turned back to Coulter with a grin. “Oh, you’re good, Doc. You almost had me, you sneaky bastard.” He raised his gun, pointing it at Adam’s head. “I should kill you for trying to hypnotize me. Too bad you got interrupted by that truck backfiring.”

Adam slyly grinned, “Oh, was that a backfire? How do you know I didn’t finish the job? How do you know I didn’t plant something in your arrogant, fucking brain, asshole? How do you know for sure?”

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Finding Our Love by Amy Tasukada: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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Exclusive Excerpt from Finding Our Love

by Amy Tasukada


“Come on Detective Pom-Pom,” Iroha cheered.

The animated poodle had five minutes to solve the case of the missing mittens or else little Mew-Mew would be blamed. The poodle walked around a few seconds blowing bubbles through his pipe while the other anthropomorphic characters eagerly waited. After a few moments of recycled bubble blowing artwork Detective Pom-Pom’s large blue eyes grew wide, and he declared he’d solved the case.

Iroha popped the last octopus shaped hotdog in his mouth.

At first, the water-colored style of the characters intrigued Iroha, but the more his art gallery fail the more the Detective Pom-Pom’s mysteries mattered. All of Pom-Pom’s problems could be solved in under a half-hour while the very real problem of Iroha’s growing debt would take months to turn around. If it ever turned around.

Iroha scrapped off a bit of green paint stuck to his long black hair as the credits rolled.

Maybe if his parents allowed him to watch Detective Pom-Pom as a kid instead of shoving colored pencils and blank paper in his face he’d figure out how to solve the mystery of the gallery with no traffic.

The annoying high-pitched theme song for the next show played signaling Iroha need to open the gallery, even if it really didn’t matter. The ribbon cutting had some fanfare, but after people realized his sister, nor any of her art wasn’t there everyone left.

He slumped down the stairs separating his home from the gallery. Then through the rentable studio space no one booked and to the gallery in the front. The lights illumined each piece’s best feature.

He examined each work standing close, standing away, glancing over his shoulder. Each one still knocked him in the heart. Each one from a talented artist who deserved to have their work shown. Each one deserved to have a red sticker on their placard marking the piece as sold.

Three of them withdrew their works since Iroha couldn’t sell them. Soon word would get to the others that he was the only one admiring their art. No one would come by asking to be in show and when Iroha called some leads they’d rejected the offer.

Iroha stepped to a blank patch on the wall. Maybe he should put one of his own paintings there to fill up the space, but leaving it empty would look like someone had bought one.

Who was he trying to fool? No one came into the gallery all week, and the only person who came in the week before asked if she could use the bathroom and left without saying thank you.

Iroha booted opened the office door and clicked through his emails hoping between spam messages someone replied to his offer.

He had to fight. He couldn’t go crawling back to his parents to be his sister’s lacky.

Hours past.

No one came.

And none of Iroha’s emails to other artist received a replied. The only action through the front door was the mail delivery.

Iroha threw the bills on his desk and ripped open the protective plastic of the latest issue of Nihon Art Today came. The thick magazine was filled with art criticism more than glossy pictures and every serious artist bought the bi-annually tome. Even the smallest article people talked about for months.

A sculpture of a girl flying a kite glossed the over. He skimmed the headlines then stopped.

Ichigo Osumi’s Brother Opens Gallery

Iroha groaned low like a rumble of thunder. Always her bother. He almost couldn’t blame them since anything with her name on it sold. He didn’t remember being asked for an interview though.

He flipped to the two-page spread. He hadn’t even earned a picture by himself in the feature. Instead they chose one of him and his sister standing next to her record-breaking auctioned painting. She was thirty-four and he’s turn seventeen that day. His party turned into a double feature that she completely usurped. Still in high school, he was still eager to follow where his parents told him. So he’d followed Ichigo to every event like a dog on a leash.

He shook his head and read. They did it to sell more copies. It wasn’t about his sister but his gallery. It could be the turn he needed to really get it off the ground.

He read.

Iroha showed some promise in his youth. 

His eyes narrowed. He skimmed down.

A gallery covered in the same mediocre art he creates.

A bolt burned a hole in his chest, but he couldn’t stop his gaze from skimming over the words.

Talentless hack

Will always be the disappointment of the Osumi name.

Too bad the apple didn’t fall close to the tree.

Iroha threw the magazine. It knocked against one of the desktop sculptures he made of a popsicle brain.

With such a scathing review no one would come. He failed, again. He might as well crawl back to his parents before getting into more debt. He could hold off for a few months, but after that…

The door chimed. They probably came to mock him. Still, he rubbed his eyes and put on a smile.

“Welcome to ABC gallery,” the last word caught in Iroha’s throat.

The older gentleman before him might’ve looked like forty-something salaryman, but a dark aura floating around him. His smile stretched too large across his face like he never had to ask twice for anything. His swagger as he approached left no doubt in Iroha mind. The man was a yakuza.

Iroha cleared his throat. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Somehow the smile on the man’s face grew larger. “I have a proposition for you.”

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His Ranch Hand by Deanna Wadsworth: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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Exclusive Excerpt from His Ranch Hand

by Deanna Wadsworth

Emboldened and eager, Myron shifted and took a seat across Cade’s lap, straddling him like a stallion.

Cade flinched, eyes widening in surprise. Only taken aback for a moment, he whispered, “What are you doing?”

“Well…?” This bold new position should’ve answered for him. Don’t make me say it out loud, Cade, please.

Despite the risks to his pride, he trusted Cade. If Cade labeled him as a dandy pillow-biter afterward, what did it matter? Myron would’ve already gotten what he wanted. But then, Cade had shown no shame or hesitation when he’d sucked Myron’s cock with no return favor, so why should Myron berate himself over this?

This felt right, deep in his bones, and he was tired of waiting.

Myron rocked in invitation, never looking away from Cade’s face. Cade licked his lips, and he knew then that, yes, Cade understood what he wanted.

And Cade wanted it too.

Big hands found Myron’s hips and pressed him down. With a hiss, Myron felt the hardness beneath him, so close to where he needed it. More than anything, Myron wanted Cade’s cock buried inside him, connecting them. This would be theirs, a special night, a wonderful memory to keep them both warm when their bedrolls were empty and cold.

Without warning, Cade shifted Myron off him, pressing him onto his side so they were facing each other. Myron gasped at the display of strength, moving him as if he weighed nothing. Being at the mercy of such power sent a thrill through him. How much bigger the thrill when Cade fucked him into the grass? The anticipation made him suck in another sharp breath.

“Is your arm okay?” Cade whispered, trailing a big, but oh-so-gentle hand up his arm, pausing at his injury.

Myron smiled indulgently and caressed Cade’s cheek, his beard scratchy and wonderful under his palm. “I can barely feel it.”

“You’ll let me know if it hurts?”

Damn, such tenderness might brand Cade directly onto Myron’s heart if he allowed it—hell, if Cade wasn’t already embedded there already.

“I promise. But I’m fine.” He longed to kiss him, but the sting of Cade’s declaration that kissing was “not for us” held him in check. Instead he whispered, “Please?”

That one word unleashed a torrent. They fumbled for belts, buttons, and cocks.

“I’m so fucking hard,” Myron admitted, reaching for Cade’s cock. He didn’t want to waste a moment. “Need you.”

“It scared me, seeing you go down,” Cade whispered, hands trembling. “But you were amazing. I always like having you on my side in a fight.”

“Me too. Your aim was solid. You were so brave and strong.”

Cade grinned wickedly. “I am strong.

Myron took his fiery cock in hand. “And big.”

They shared knowing, playful grins, and Myron wondered if this might be love.

But it was just sex, right? He’d been lucky in his youth, having both friendship and sex with Douglas, but they’d been infatuated boys, randy as all hell, and it had never felt like this. Myron’s belly stirred when Cade smiled, and his heart skipped when Cade let down his walls. And he loved it when Cade mothered him, whereas any other man would’ve gotten a black eye. Even if they weren’t naked, he simply wanted to be near Cade.

He pushed such rambling ideas away. He’d ponder it all later. Right now the pleasure he’d waited for his whole life was nigh.

“Shirt off,” Cade commanded, sending another shot of passion whizzing through Myron. “Boots too. Everything.”

He struggled to obey. Wide eyed, Cade stared at Myron, once completely bared. His pale, freckled skin glistened in the fire and moonlight. Cade told him that he liked freckles and Myron shivered, loathing yet adoring how much he enjoyed being vulnerable with this man.

Still lying on his side, Cade ran a weathered hand down Myron’s torso and whispered so softly, the words were almost lost in the night, “I’ve denied this… a very long time.”

Tentatively he mimicked Cade’s gentle touch, though Cade remained dressed, only his cock out. “So you’ve never… with anyone else?”

Cade frowned, annoyed with Myron, the question, or himself, he couldn’t guess.

“Of course I have,” Cade whispered, not looking at him. “But I try to control the things I really want, ignore the hunger to… take what I need. I ought to be ashamed. It’s all a sin, but….” He shook his head with a grimace.

Myron bit back a sharp protest at the word sin.

Ever since Pastor Ambrose tried to kiss Myron after Sunday school, he’d come to determine not all preachers were as holy as Mama believed. He’d never read the Good Book all together, just the bits and pieces read to or at him in order to get him to behave. But he had read some Uranian poetry at a whore house in Kansas City about two men being together, so he knew this wasn’t a new phenomenon. Even heard that Frenchmen partook in each other, and in Venice they flaunted their affections right in public.

Might be the only reason to leave the West, to see if such places existed.

He studied Cade, not taking him for the pious sort. “I don’t think this is as wrong as folks say. I’ve seen a horny bull try to mount another bull before. Wouldn’t leave the damn thing alone. Nature, she’s funny. Makes us all different sorts. Me and you are no more wrong than that bull. Or no different than an otter is to a fly. They aren’t the same, but that doesn’t make them wrong.”

Cade’s hand never left Myron’s chest, his fingers on the other swirling delicately over the hair on Myron’s stomach and making his cock ache. “Everything you say sounds easy and natural. But how can you be so sure?”

Adoring this new vulnerable side of his strong cowboy, Myron cupped Cade’s cheek and their eyes met. He needed to assuage his doubts, not just for tonight, but so Cade could learn to accept himself for years to come. “There’s nothing wrong about two people enjoying themselves. We aren’t hurting anybody. That’s how I can be so sure. If it’s wrong, why does it feel so damn right inside here?” He placed a hand over Cade’s heart, hoping the move wouldn’t be too intimate, and make Cade change his mind.

“Maybe…” His heavy lashes drooped and Myron feared nothing more would happen. Both times they’d been together, it had been dark. He wanted to curse the golden light of the fire for exposing Cade and making him ashamed. Of course he wanted to curse whatever made Cade ashamed, and the one doing the shaming too, because from where Myron sat, there wasn’t a damn thing wrong with the cowboy beside him.

“But it is hard to be like this,” Myron admitted, dropping his hand and sitting up. He reached for his shirt and gazed down at Cade still lying on their bedrolls. “Hiding. Having a secret. But secrets are better if you got a friend to share them with. We’re friends, right?”


“So I suppose we can either be friends who know about the secret, or friends who have a secret together. It’s your choice. But I won’t be ashamed of who I am and what I want, and you shouldn’t be either.” Myron felt odd to be so frank about something that could get a man hanged. But Cade made him more comfortable in his own skin than he’d ever felt with another person. “Now I can get dressed and we can just go back to being ranch hands, if you like. Or you can forget what you’ve been told, accept that men like us aren’t broken or less than any other man. Then you can get undressed and fuck me.”

Damn, did I just say that?

At Myron’s declaration, Cade looked stunned. “You really want me… to do that to you?”

Now Myron was getting pissed, seeing as he was naked as a jaybird and Cade remained dressed, resisting their attraction, even with his cock poking out of his trousers, hard as you please. After everything they’d shared, both physical and verbal, what still held Cade back? Myron had finally found the person and the courage to share this with, and Cade wasn’t responding the way he’d hoped.

And that made him madder than hell.

“Yes, I wanna be fucked.” Myron roughly put his shirt on, wincing when his wound twinged. “And if I’m being honest, I wanna be kissed too. You seemed to like kissing my cock last night, if I remember correctly. Maybe you’d like kissing me if you tried it.”

Goddammit, he shouldn’t have said that, but this was ridiculous. They were grown men. Peculiar ones, some might say, but men nonetheless. He wouldn’t allow Cade and whatever notions other people put in his head make Myron ashamed of who he was and what he needed. Not anymore. He’d come a long way toward accepting his nature completely, even more so recently, and he wouldn’t let Cade take that away. If only Cade could realize while yes, they needed to keep things secret, shame had no place between them when they were alone.

Myron let out a weary sigh, and dropped his hands in his lap. “I see no more sense beating around the bush, Buchanan. Do you want me tonight or not?”

He held his breath and the other man’s stare.

A moment before he gave up, Cade cupped his cheek. Never looking away, Cade pulled him closer. “Yes, I do want you. Have from the moment we met. You’re just so… perfect.”

Before Myron could recover from the beautiful sentiment, Cade gently pulled on his neck. When their lips met, it was feather light, the brush of butterfly wings, but it sent off an explosion within.

Our first kiss

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The B-Side by B. Harmony: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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Exclusive Excerpt from The B-Side

by B. Harmony

I turn to leave the bathroom and head back to the kitchen. Nearing the end of the hall, the kitchen in full view, I stop mid-stride. I can feel the side of my mouth lift up. Tyler is in the middle of the kitchen holding a wooden spoon to his mouth while belting out the lyrics along to “I Like Me Better” by Lauv. More than just the karaoke performance, Tyler is dancing, and I can’t peel my eyes off him.

His entire body seems to move in time with the beat as he thrusts his hips back and forth, shaking his ass and raising one arm above his head. It’s as if I’m stuck in a tunnel where all I can see and hear is Tyler’s dancing and the music that now matches the beat of my heart.

It’s not exactly what I would call sexy dance moves, more like he’s just having fun. But the happiness I can see from just the side of his face turns me on all over again.

He switches his hips side to side quickly, crosses his ankles and spins his body in my direction. Wide eyes meet mine as he freezes at my smirk.” He’s wearing skinny jeans and a red shirt that says Gay as Glitter; fitting given the moment I just walked in on. “Uh, yeah, I’ve got nothing.”

“Oh, don’t stop on my account. I was rather enjoying the show. Seems only fair.” I continue on into the kitchen, taking the spoon from him as I pass by.

“How long were you standing there?” he asks. Splotches of red color his face and extend up towards his ears.

“Just the start of the second verse.”

“Oh good, so only half of my shame.”

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Release Blitz: Not Used to Cute by Becca Seymour + Excerpt & Giveaway!

Not Used to Cute by Becca Seymour

A bar owner who’s not looking for a relationship. A lost soul who’s afraid to trust. When Elijah and Seb meet, sparks fly. But will either of them find the courage to take what they want?

Pouring his all into his business, Elijah is perfectly content running his bar. With its prime location and its infamous drag shows, Bar QK is the place to be. Elijah is used to meeting new and sometimes interesting people, but it’s rare anyone catches his interest for anything longer than a five-minute conversation.

It takes a wandering, unfiltered surfer, who’s tired of the chase and dog-tired of people taking advantage of him, to spark long-buried interest in Elijah.

While kindness runs through his veins, Seb doesn’t believe in fairy tales. He has a past he’d rather forget and has no real expectations for his future. He believes it’s safer to not make assumptions about anything or anyone; that way, he’ll remain safe.

It takes his elusive, aloof boss, whose mixed messages are more confusing than Ikea furniture instructions, to show Seb that opening his heart can be worth the risk.

When Elijah and Seb find themselves working on a common goal, the high stakes may be just the nudge they need.

Available at: Amazon

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Author Q&A: Rebecca Raine + Excerpt & Giveaway!

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When did you first realize that you wanted to be a writer?

My journey into writing began with fan fiction. I had been reading fanfics for a while when an idea for a story came to me. I began writing it on the bus while commuting to and from work. It was so much fun! Those first stories were my training ground and I learned so much from them. It was when I finished a 30,000 word fanfic that I decided to try writing an original novel that was all my own.

How many books have you written?

The Experiment is my ninth book and I’m already hard at work on number ten. Reaching that double digit is going to be such a thrill. I remember when I used to dream about reaching this point.

How long does it usually take you to write a book?

My times are all over the place. It took me seven years (on and off) to write my first book. The second took only a few months because it was much shorter and came to me quite easily. Most of the time it takes about six months, but I’ve been working hard to train myself to write faster so I can publish more often.

How did you come up with the idea for your book?

The idea for The Experiment came to me one day in a flash of inspiration. I could see a straight man trying to psyche himself up to kiss a gay man, even though he really didn’t want to. I knew they were in a bar, and that he was doing it to satisfy a lost bet, but other than that I had no idea what was going on.

Then the man turned to his friend, who was sitting beside him, and said, “You know, mate, this would be a hell of a lot easier if you’d quit laughing.” In that instant, I knew the friend was the man he would end up kissing, and he would be anything but reluctant by the end of it.

I loved the idea so much I grabbed a notebook and pen and spent the next hour furiously scribbling down every detail I could remember. My flash of inspiration became the opening of The Experiment and that one line of dialogue is still there, exactly the way Patrick said it the first time.

Who are your favorite authors? Have they inspired your writing?

There are so many MM Romance authors I love and admire. Among them are Riley Hart, Roan Parrish, Leta Blake, Lucy Lennox, Eden Finley and Christina Lee. I credit Riley Hart’s Shifting Gears with introducing me to the genre. It was the first MM Romance I ever read, and it got me hooked.

Is there anything you find particularly challenging in your writing?

Speed. I’m quite a slow writer. I stress about first drafts and have difficulty getting out of my own way when getting those initial words down. During re-writes I can easily spend a whole morning getting a few paragraphs just right.

Where is your favorite place to write?

I have a workspace in the corner of my lounge room with my computer and a white board and all that jazz. But I’ll often end up on the couch with my laptop, or just pen and paper. That is especially true at the moment because it’s winter here and I like to stay under a pile of blankets.

When you develop characters do you already know who they are before you begin writing or do you let them develop as you go?

Characters are interesting because they can come to me in all sorts of ways. Some walk into my brain fully formed and introduce themselves by name (Jeremy, All the Broken Pieces). Sometimes, I’ll know some major details about them and then learn more as I write about them (Patrick, The Experiment). Other times, I’ll take conflicting pieces of my own personality and find ways to pit them against each other (Amber and Lincoln, Lost in Amber). Hanging out with my characters, and listening to them talk to each other, is one of the great pleasures of being a writer.

Do you aim for a set number of words/pages per day?

I used to try to aim for a set number of words per day, but I gave up on that a while ago because I always ended up failing. When I’m writing first drafts of scenes I can pump out a lot of words in a day. But when I’m rewriting, I can work solidly for a whole day and only end up adding a few hundred words, because it’s the quality I’m improving, not the word count. These days, I focus more on how quickly I’m completing scenes to a certain standard (draft, rewrite, polish). I find this works better for me.

What is the hardest thing about writing?

Line edits. Looking at every instance of words like that, was and just in a book to see if they can be cut or reworded is the most boring task in existence.

What is the easiest thing about writing?

I love the part where I have a basic draft of a scene written and I get to rewrite it over and over until it shines. Playing with phrases, getting bits of dialogue just right, making myself laugh, cry or sigh with pleasure. They may take the most time but, for me, those are the magical moments of writing.

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Author Q&A: Leigh Kenzie + Excerpt & Giveaway!

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The prized possession you value above all others…

My kindle! I actually have a backup kindle even. My spouse bought me my first one because we moved so often that carrying 10+ boxes of books was supposedly too much. The kindle was supposed to fix that and in some ways it did, except then I started collecting signed books. I wouldn’t know what to do without my kindle though. I’m an avid reader so it’s a must-have, especially as some books are ebook only. It opened me up to the indie author community.

The unqualified regret you wish you could amend…

The temptation you wish you could resist…

The book that holds everlasting resonance…

The priority activity if you were invisible for a day…

Definitely writing. I have two amazing alphas that help keep me on task and I’m positive they would have the same opinion. In fact, they’re usually the ones corralling me away from social media so I can focus. My job is heavy in that area and I’m a workaholic. I also have a tendency to fall down the rabbit hole with YouTube. Thank goodness for alphas that are terrifying! I wouldn’t know what to do without them.

The film you can watch time and time again…

Bad Company with Chris Rock and Anthony Hopkins. It’s my go-to for cheering up.

The person who influenced you the most…

My father. He was an amazing man. My love of reading comes from him. Not only that but so many of the lessons he taught our family resonate so deeply. Being active in our community, always doing the right thing no matter what, and never judging another person. Acceptance and love was key for him. I try to embrace his lessons as much as possible.

The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity…

Math. I’m a huge math geek and I still get out my old calculus and differential equations textbooks for fun. It’s relaxing to me.

The poem that touches your soul…

The event that altered the course of your life…

There have been several but I’ll go with the most recent (and applicable). I recently lost two people who had the largest impact on me growing up. It’s easy to push dreams aside. For me one reason is fear. It’s terrifying to put my heart and soul out there and that’s what writing is for me. It’s intensely personal so putting it out in the public is scary. At that point, it’s no longer my words. People will interpret it differently, feel differently about it, and that’s something I sometimes need prodding to remember. The other part is I’m the caretaker. It makes it easy to push aside my dreams and needs for others. Losing the two people in my life who pushed me, well, all I can say is I didn’t have an option at that point to ignore it anymore. If nothing else I hope that I do their memory proud.

The song that means the most to you…

There are two. Ashley Campbell’s Remembering is one. It was written about her father Glen Campbell who had Alzheimer’s. I lost my father to dementia and that song really gets to me each time I hear it. The second is Son of a Preacher Man by Tom Gross. The lyrics were reimagined and was done in partnership with The Trevor Project and PFLAG. If you have a chance, I highly suggest watching the video. I have the song on repeat.

The happiest moment you will cherish forever…

The unfulfilled ambition that continues to haunt you…

Music. I was a concert pianist and competed regularly. I also played several other instruments. However, a hand injury took that away. It’s something I miss dearly and would have loved to continue.

Your early recollections of writing fiction…

It makes me feel incredibly old but the first one I remember was in third grade. There was a young writers competition and as a school project we all had to enter. I remember being a finalist (I didn’t win). I was most excited that I had something interesting to write about when I sent my grandmother a letter that month.

The way you would spend your fantasy twenty-four hours, with no travel restrictions…

I’m an introvert and extremely shy. For me, I’d love to just read and write. Not have any other responsibilities. I’m a caretaker for an elderly family member and also in charge of my chaotic family, including two high-energy terrors of terriers. I also work a job that keeps me busy with jumping from project to project. I’d love to just have a day to myself. I’d get bored after that though.

The pet hate that makes your hackles rise…

The unqualified regret you wish you could amend…

The figure from history you would most like to buy a pie and a pint…

The piece of wisdom you would pass onto a child…

The treasured item you lost and wish you could have again…

The crime you would commit knowing you could get away with it…

The philosophy that underpins your life…

Do the right thing always. It’s not always easy but I try my hardest to do it, even when it can break my heart.

The character you enjoyed writing the most…

The character you found difficult to write…

The book you enjoyed planning/writing the most…

A little bit of promo…

Il Padrone is the beginning of the Vendetta Series. It does end on a cliffhanger. However, I should be releasing monthly until the series is completed. This is dark M/M mafia with plenty of kink and at times non-traditional.

I am a complete panster and survive on copious amounts of coffee. These characters and the naughty plot monkeys in my head drive the series. Book 1 is just the beginning of this twisted story of vengeance.

Allesandro and Emilio do not have an easy journey in this series. On the surface, you can’t get too much different, the hardened mob boss in his 40s and the sweet naïve 19-year-old kid. People are always changing though, and I hope that is reflected in my work.

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Categories: Author Q&A, Book Promo, Excerpts, Giveaways, LGBT | Tags: , , , | 1 Comment

Malthusia Fate by Emma Jaye: Exclusive Excerpt!

Blogger_Exclusive Excerpt

Exclusive Excerpt from Malthusia Fate

by Emma Jaye

“For God’s sake, Clay, help me before Daven comes looking.”

“Aww is Tavvy Wavvy getting all cranky wanky?” Clay pouted. “You know, if you get any further up your own ass you won’t need an omega if you manifest balls because you’ll be able to fuck yourself.”

As usual, the ribbing produced a pillow fight, which Tav won. After Clay surrendered and they’d both got their breath back, Tav took Clay’s hand and pulled their favorite sibling back up to a sitting position on the bed.

Joining forces, they attacked the youngest twins, shoving them into their clothes before telling Per to take them downstairs. Both flopped onto the bed, enjoying the last few moments of peace.

“Talking of cranky wanky, do you think Zepish will actually pull off his new dick if he carries on yanking on it twenty times a day? That would really make my year,” Clay said.

Tav grinned. “‘Fraid not. I checked with Dr. Seten yesterday.”

Clay froze, eyes wide, then fell off the bed in uncontrolled hysterical laughter. It took a whole five minutes before the pair could look at each other without starting again.

Eventually, Tav had themself under control enough to stand. “Come on, you lazy git, it’s time to go and get lectured again.”

Clay groaned briefly before propping themself up on their elbows.

“I hate Sevendays even more than sitting in that damn classroom with the wicked witch and her brats. If that priest stares at me once more while extolling the virtues of ‘obedient omegas,’ I’m going to stand up, walk over to the pulpit and punch the fucker on their big ugly nose.’

Tav scratched their head, wondering how best to approach the subject.

Clay was twelve and nearing the prime time to manifest as an omega. Tav fervently hoped the feisty redhead wouldn’t. But If Clay did become Clayelle while they hated the idea of being an omega this much, they could have real problems adjusting. Recently manifested omegas committing suicide wasn’t uncommon. Although Tav didn’t think Clay would take that option, they didn’t want their favorite sibling to be too depressed if it did happen.

“The priest is only trying to make it easier on the ones who are going to manifest as omegas.”

Clay gave Tav a death glare. “You mean the sanctimonious fucker is trying to impress upon us that we should become instantly submissive if our cocks drop off in the night?”

Tav rolled their eyes. “They don’t actually drop off, they shrink. The bit that’s left still gets hard and makes them climax but what they produce when they do is like channel slick rather than beta cum or alpha semen.”

Clay made a loud gagging noise. “Enough with the revolting biology lecture. I don’t need to know this shit. I’m staying a beta; I’m not submissive enough to be an omega, so forget about it.”

“Not all omegas are on-the-floor submissives. I don’t know how much you remember about Ma, but she wasn’t a pushover. Most of the betas deferred to her, and not only because she was mated to Pa.”

“She talked back to him?” Clay said, eyes wide.

Tav winced. “I never saw her be anything but submissive to Pa, but who knows what went on in private? She certainly wouldn’t have embarrassed him in public; you know how much status means to him.”

Clay clapped Tav on the shoulder as he got up. “Or you can do what I do; make the big angry alphas laugh all the time. Have you ever noticed how many more times Zepish picks on you compared to me? And I thought you were meant to be the bright one.”

At Tav’s confused expression, Clay grinned. “You poor, clueless bookworm. I manipulate everyone in this place far more than any of the alphas. I’ve got the whole lot, alphas, betas, and that bitch, eating out of my hand. The difference is, no one realizes I’m doing it. There’s a beta life of wealth, luxury, and indulgence waiting for me, unlike you, you sad little worker bee. I’ll see you down there.”

Tav sat on the bed, watching the door swing shut on Clay in complete shock.

Muttering, “Son of a bitch,” Tav followed Clay before Daven came to find them.

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Categories: Book Promo, Excerpts, LGBT, Published in 2020 | Tags: | Leave a comment