Published in 2019

Tainted Love by T.S. Hunter: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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Exclusive Excerpt from Tainted Love

by T.S. Hunter

Chapter 1

SOHO, LONDON. 1985.

THE DANK WINTERY STREETS outside were a distant memory now. Tonight, this hot, sweaty, neon-lit club was Joe’s whole universe. Music pulsed through his body like a brand new heartbeat. London was already changing him.

Sweat sticking his T-shirt to his ribs, arms raised high above his head, grinning wildly, hips pumping to Frankie’s repetitive calls to “Relax”. Joe hardly recognised himself and he was happier than he’d ever been.

It had been a night of Bronski Beat, Sister Sledge, Culture Club and Madonna—the kind of upbeat pop Joe usually hated. He was into more brooding, melancholic stuff—miserable shite, according to his friend Chris—and yet these pulsing, happy beats felt like they defined him right now. The new him. His new start.

This whole weekend had been like none Joe had ever known. He’d always been the quiet one, never even daring to come down to London on his own. Not confident enough to admit who he really was. This year was different already.

His oldest friend from school, Chris Sexton, had called him out of the blue to invite Joe to join him in London for a long weekend. A friend is having a party, he’d said. It’s going to be wild. You should come.

Chris had been the only person Joe had stayed in touch with from his school days. His first and only love, though he knew that particular accolade was one-sided, and Joe had long since given up hope of anything happening between them, even if he was still—and always would be—a little besotted with Chris.

Chris wasn’t the kind of guy who went around falling in love, though. Handsome, confident, reckless, funny and the bravest man Joe knew—Chris had left a trail of broken hearts behind him of those who’d fallen for him before they realised he’d never settle down.

So Joe and Chris had stayed friends, meeting up less frequently now that they had both left their respective universities, and Joe had secured a boring but well paid job with the council back in their old home town.

Chris, on the other hand, had moved to London seven years ago to study Fashion at St Martin’s College. Two fingers up to his father, who’d wanted him to join the family accountancy firm. Maybe he’d go back to it, when he’d settled down a bit. Though there was no sign of that happening any time soon.

After college, Chris had hooked himself up in a partnership with a couple of other young designers, and had been making a name for himself on the fashion scene ever since.

He was renting a flat in the heart of Soho and seemed to have a wide circle of friends of all shapes and ages. Joe wished he had Chris’s life. Or his talent. Or his looks. Any one of those would do.

Joe laughed as his friend bounced across the floor in a series of typically ostentatious dance moves, deliberately bumping into a tall, skinny, blonde guy—exactly Chris’s type—and planting a sly kiss on his cheek before sashaying away again. Oh, for that confidence.

Joe hadn’t even come out to his family yet. In fact, Chris was the only person he’d ever confided in, though he was sure others knew.

His oldest sister suspected. She’d asked him outright once, but he’d just changed the subject. It was none of her business. She was like the mirror of their mother. She wouldn’t understand. She would just worry.

All of that felt a lifetime away right now. Here in this club, Joe had found his spiritual home. This was living. This was who he really was. “Like a Virgin” by Madonna blasting out of the speakers, bodies bouncing and writhing together, very few of them remotely like a virgin.

Joe leaned back against the bar, his sweaty T-shirt clinging to his skin where it pressed against the cold railing. The bass throbbed through his body, vibrating his core. He’d never danced like he had tonight.

He didn’t even need Chris at his side, egging him on, and telling him not to worry about what people thought. He’d been right to come down to London. He should listen to his friend more often.

There was work for him here, surely. He didn’t need the security, or oppression, of home any more. Chris had promised to help find him something, if he wanted to stay. Right now he could think of nothing better.

Chris sauntered up and grabbed him by the arm, dragging him back towards the middle of the dance floor.

“I can’t,” Joe protested half-heartedly. “I need a break. I need a drink.”

He didn’t need any more to drink at all, he was already stumbling as Chris led him across the heaving floor. The young French guys he’d been dancing with earlier caught his eye. The sexy one was called Luc, but Joe couldn’t remember the other guy’s name. Something with a G. It didn’t matter, ‘Mate’ would do. He’d pretty much ignored Joe all night anyway, spending most of it leaning against the bar looking sultry.

Luc, on the other hand, had been flirting with Joe all night. And Joe wasn’t really sure how to handle it. No one had ever hit on him before. Sure enough, Luc touched Joe’s waist as he passed, and the look he gave him made Joe’s stomach do somersaults. Joe let his own hand rest on Luc’s for a moment. Holding back long enough for Luc to whisper in his ear.

“Come dance with me.”

His breath smelled of beer and cigarettes. His accent was amazing. His lips close enough to kiss. And Joe knew he could, but still he hesitated. Apart from Chris, he’d never kissed anyone. Not like that. And that had only been the one time.

Chris always joked that just one kiss from him had spoiled Joe for other men. He may have been right once, but Joe had moved on. And no one—not even Chris—had ever looked at him the way Luc just had. For the first time in their friendship, Joe suddenly wanted Chris to just disappear.

“I’ll be back,” Joe called to Luc, as Chris dragged him on through the throng of dancers. Luc smiled as gyrating bodies closed the space between them. A squeal rose above the beat, and Joe turned to see Chris planting a full kiss on the lips of a tall woman in a tight red sequined dress which framed her stunning figure.

“Get off, you bugger! You’ll smear my lippy.”

Liverpudlian accent. Cheekbones to die for. Nails like knife blades. Red wig piled high, with a little curl teased down each temple. Six foot something in heels, and eye shadow that made Cindy Lauper look like she wasn’t even trying.

The sequins glistened in the disco lights, making her look like she was made of glitter. Up close, Joe could see make-up caking around a tiny missed patch of stubble. Barely noticeable, and it took nothing away from the overall effect. He was dumbstruck. You’re not in Kansas now.

“Patty, darling,” Chris gushed. “You look fabulous.”

“All thanks to my gorgeous designer,” Patty replied, eyes darting to Chris’s hand, still clutching Joe’s. The briefest frown, gone in an instant.

“Well hello, handsome,” Patty smiled, red-nailed finger touching Joe’s cheek. “Who’ve we got here?”

“Patty, this is Joe,” said Chris. “The old school friend I told you about. He promised to come for the party. And here he is.”

It almost broke Joe’s heart that Chris seemed so happy to show him off to his friends. Joe had always thought he was the boring one, but Chris was nothing if not fiercely loyal.

Thisis your school friend?” asked Patty incredulously. “God! I wish I’d gone to yourschool.”

An over-dramatic eye roll had Chris laughing. Joe froze as Patty leaned in and kissed him on both cheeks. The smell of perfume and cigarettes, make-up and talc wafting around him.

“Enchanté,” she purred. “God, he’s so cute!”

Joe felt himself blushing. It would take a bit of getting used to, this new world he’d found himself in.

“You ready for the show then?” Patty asked.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Chris replied.

“Well come backstage and help me sort out this fucking corset, will you? It’s tighter than my Nan’s purse,” Patty hissed, lips pouted. “You can come watch, if you want.”

Joe wasn’t sure that he did want. The song had changed to “Tainted Love. And all he wanted to do was find Luc. Continue reading

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Strokes on a Canvas by H. Lewis-Foster: Exclusive Excerpt!

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Exclusive Excerpt from Strokes on a Canvas

by H. Lewis-Foster

“It’s true I was keeping an eye out for Haynes, but you weren’t mistaken. I was looking at you.”

“You were? Why would you be doing that?”

“It’s quite simple, really. I was…”

Milo opened his mouth to continue, but he seemed to have lost the words he’d planned.

“Let me start from the beginning. My name is Milo Halstead, but I imagine you know that after standing so close to myself and Haynes in the pub.” Milo smiled at Evan with no trace of accusation. “What I doubt you’ll know, as not many people do, is that I’m an artist. Or at least I teach art at St. Swithun’s College. I enjoy my work very much, but when I saw you last night, you rekindled my dream of being a professional artist.”

Evan’s eyes widened in confusion, and Milo chuckled.

“I’m not explaining myself very well, am I? The fact is the Royal Academy is running a competition. It’s open to all and I’d love to enter, but I’ve been at a loss for inspiration. Then I saw you last night, and you have such a fascinating, beautiful face, I knew I’d found the subject for my painting. I didn’t dare approach you in the pub, but when I saw you here in the museum, I thought perhaps fate had intervened and it was meant to be.”

Evan knew he should reply, but he was still reeling from Milo’s compliment. He could believe he might find his face fascinating, with its dodgy nose and dimpled chin, but no one had ever called him beautiful before, not even his own mother. In the absence of any reaction from Evan, Milo hesitantly concluded his speech.

“So I was wondering if you might like to sit for me.”

“Sit for you?”

“I mean model for me. Let me paint you. I’d pay you, of course.”

To say Evan was shocked was an understatement.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Halstead, but I couldn’t do that. I’m afraid I’m not the kind of man who takes off his clothes for money. Not even for an artist such as yourself.”

“My dear man, I do apologize.” It was Milo who now looked taken aback. “That’s not what I was suggesting at all. It wouldn’t be that sort of painting. I may ask you to undo your shirt collar, but that’s as much flesh as I would wish you to show.”

Evan was relieved, but he was still astonished by Milo’s proposal.

“Are you sure you want to paint me?”

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Honorary Blogger Parker Williams: Redemption + Excerpt & Giveaway!

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Redemption

by Parker Williams

Hey, Blogger Girls and friends! Thank you for having me (giggle). I’ve been asked to talk about Redemption, so without further ado…

Book two of the Links in the Chain series is called Galen’s Redemption. It follows Galen, the brother to Lincoln from book one, Lincoln’s Park, as the realization he’s no longer interested in being the man he thought he had to in order to win the approval of his father.

Galen’s brother also needed redemption for his past sins. Both men have histories that they would just as soon never happened, but they did, and they have to come to terms with it. Who among us doesn’t have something in their past they wish they could erase?

For Galen it’s the fact he’s never once stood up for anyone. He’s gone in and shut businesses down, thrown hundreds of people out of work, and all in an attempt to make someone proud of him, even though he knows deep down it’ll never happen.

What starts him on the road is a comment from his assistant, who tells him he’s too good for the place. He can’t understand what she means, because he has always believed he was cut from the same cloth as his father. But Olivia’s comment, comes on the heels of Galen’s disconcerting meeting with Robert Kotke, the owner of the shelter. Two disparate people who will each have a profound impact on Galen’s life as he searches for some kind of truth to help him find his way back from the abyss.

But what happens when you lose an ally? The first person who saw something good in you? Let’s find out by seeing an exclusive scene from the book that you’ll only find here at The Blogger Girls!

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Indulge Me by Beth Bolden: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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Exclusive Excerpt from Indulge Me

by Beth Bolden

“I can’t believe that fucking bastard quit,” Bastian said in a huff, but Kian had known him long enough to know it was all defensive posturing. I can’t believe he left me, was what Kian heard.

“Wyatt needs the money. His grandmother is in a home,” Kian said quietly. “And this private chef gig pays really well.”

“Private chef,” Bastian sneered. “So he’s going to go grill plain, tough chicken for some socialite in LA?”

Being Bastian’s intern and being friends with Wyatt and Xander was a fine line to walk. He often knew more than he felt comfortable saying to his boss—things that his friends told him in confidence. Like that Xander’s new sauce recipe was almost directly lifted from a Tom Colicchio cookbook, or that Wyatt wasn’t going to be cooking for a socialite at all, but the only “out” player in professional baseball.

Bastian definitely didn’t need to know that there was definitely something going on between the baseball player and Wyatt.

“Probably,” Kian said noncommittedly in his most soothing voice. He leaned down and picked up the keyboard, which was missing a few important keys. This was the fourth keyboard they’d been through in the last year, and Kian had started buying extras because he might still need to place online orders for supplies and ingredients the day that Bastian decided to throw a hissy fit. They couldn’t run out of artichokes just because Kian didn’t have a keyboard.

Kicking a pen, Bastian slumped down into his chair. The anger had passed now, and they’d moved on to guilt.

“I shouldn’t have said those things. I just . . . saw red,” Bastian said hopelessly.

Kian set the broken keyboard on the chair opposite the desk. He maneuvered around the random detritus on the floor and took a chance by moving closer to Bastian than he normally allowed himself. Even took the risk of placing his hands on Bastian’s broad, muscular shoulders, emphasized by the cut of his white chef’s coat.

Bastian stared at him, and something inside Kian trembled. They didn’t often touch, because even a hand on a shoulder was dangerous, and Kian never initiated contact. But he did today, curling his fingers into the starched cotton of Bastian’s jacket, holding him steady as his own pulse accelerated.

“Maybe next time, we can figure out a way for you to only see . . . orange,” Kian suggested softly.

“I have a temper,” Bastian snapped. “It’s not going away.” He jerked out of Kian’s hands, and the moment broke, like an egg cracking against the edge of a bowl.

It would be nice if Bastian’s temper mellowed, but Kian was not laboring under any false impression that it would. Bastian’s temper was part of who he was; it was the product of the intense pressure he put on himself and on others to produce perfection every single day. It wasn’t ideal, it wasn’t always professional, but it wasn’t going away.

Still, if Kian could figure out a way to convince him to take a second to think before he acted, then maybe the collateral damage would be less. At the very least, Kian would end up needing fewer keyboards.

Leaning down, Kian began to gather up pieces of the coffee cup and the pens and pencils scattered over the polished concrete floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Bastian began to pace in the small space, his arms crossed across his chest, like the physical movement might contain what kept trying to escape.

“I just . . . Wyatt . . . he’s good,” Bastian said, and Kian glanced up to see that he’d stopped pacing and was staring at him, crouched on the floor.

“I know he is,” Kian said calmly.

“He knows it too,” Bastian muttered, like that made up for the insults he’d just spit in Wyatt’s direction.

“Yeah, he does. Which is partly why he’s leaving.”

Kian had gathered almost all the pens from the desk and was moving onto the paperclips sprinkled across the concrete.

“Here,” Bastian said, and Kian looked up from the floor to see the mesh paperclip holder held at eye level. He’d crouched down next to Kian and was also picking up paperclips.

This was by no means the first time Bastian had cleared his desk in a fit of temper, but it was definitely the first time he’d helped Kian clean up the mess.

Kian tipped a handful of paperclips into the container. “Maybe I should get one with a sealed lid,” he said, trying to use a bit of humor to distract him from the fact that Bastian was right there next to him, helping him. If he turned his head and leaned a little to the left he’d be pressed right against him.

It might not be an apology, but it was something.

Sighing, Bastian pushed back on his heels, observing the mess surrounding them with a cynical expression. “This life is hard.”

“Really?” Kian retorted sarcastically. “I had no idea.”

Bastian, who could be a sarcastic son of a bitch, ironically hated sarcasm in others, so he ignored Kian’s statement. “And this,” he gestured between them, “makes me tense.”

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Book Review: Indulge Me by Beth Bolden

Reviewed by Nikyta

Title: Indulge Me
Author: Beth Bolden
Series: Kitchen Gods
Heroes: Bastian & Kian
Genre: M/M Contemporary
Length: 363 pages
Publisher: Self Published
Release Date: April 8, 2019
Available at: Amazon
Add it to your shelf: Goodreads

Blurb: Throughout the restaurant industry, Chef Bastian Aquino is a notorious control freak. For two very long years, Kian Reynolds has worked for Bastian as his special assistant, doing whatever he and his restaurant needs. The toughest part isn’t even all the impossible tasks he expects Kian to complete flawlessly—it’s the hopeless, endless love he feels for his older boss.

Falling for someone so far above him might be agonizing, but at least his feelings aren’t unrequited. Bastian fell in love right alongside him, but at the very beginning, they made the choice to abstain for logical, smart, professional reasons.

But love isn’t logical, it isn’t smart, and it definitely isn’t professional. It defies containment, even by Bastian. While he watches Bastian struggle with their attraction, Kian finally comes to the conclusion that he’s done.

He’s done standing off the side, done not getting any of the credit, done letting Bastian define the boundaries of their relationship. Most of all, he’s done waiting.

Indulge Me is an 85,000 word contemporary romance, featuring an enormous amount of pining, a boss/employee relationship, an age gap and very delicious risotto. It is the fourth and final book in the Kitchen Gods series, and to receive a fuller, more enjoyable reading experience, I would recommend reading at least one other book in the series first. Continue reading

Categories: 4.5 Star Ratings, Book Review, LGBT, Nikyta's Reviews, Published in 2019 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Ace in the Picture by Jude Tresswell: Exclusive Excerpt!

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Exclusive Excerpt from Ace in the Picture

by Jude Tresswell

“You’re not gay, are you?” Raith suddenly said. “And I don’t think you’re straight, either, or bi, and I think you must be ace.”

“Sorry,” said Phil, embarrassed by Raith’s bluntness. “Sometimes Raith says things that most people wouldn’t.”

“So they think it,” Raith said, with a shrug. “What’s the difference in thinking it and saying it?”

“Well—” Phil began.

“It’s okay, Phil,” Nick said. He stared at his coffee mug. He had never discussed being ace with anybody in real life. On internet forums, yes. Often. They’d kept him sane. Real life, no. Why? he asked himself. And here was a man who was openly gay—openly polyamorous!—confronting him with his own well-guarded secret. Why couldn’t he, like Raith and Phil and Ross and Mike say, This is me. Like it or leave it. I don’t care a toss?

Here was a chance to say it. Take it, he told himself.

“Yes, I’m ace,” he said, and immediately wished he hadn’t. Of all the people to come out to, he’d chosen two men who surely wouldn’t understand at all! Men who knew the taste of other men’s saliva and spunk and body sweat, and who doubtless inserted more than fingers and tongues into each other’s orifices. Regularly. Not even with just a single other. There were four of them, for goodness sake.

“Oh,” said Raith. “I thought you might be. See, I was right,” he said to Phil. “I’ll go and do the dishes and make some cocoa.”

So that was it? That was the big confession? What an anti-climax. Nick could have cried. And they’d obviously been discussing him in his absence!

“I can’t imagine it,” said Phil gently, aware of Nick’s discomfort. “I mean, I fuck the hell out of two sassy men—but if you want to talk about it, I’m a very good listener. I don’t reckon it’s easy to be asexual in a world that seems to revolve around sex.”

“What do you think it revolves around?” asked Nick, relieved, in a way, to turn the conversation from himself.

“For me, it’s love, but love, for me, is different from sex. I love Ross. If anything happened to him, I’d be distraught, but I don’t find him sexy. The attachment is emotional, deeply emotional, but not sexual.”

“I’ve sometimes felt like that about people,” said Nick, drawn into a sort of confession by Phil’s quiet, thoughtful manner, “but it hasn’t worked out. I’ve not wanted to… do anything in bed, and they’ve misunderstood, and we’ve gone our separate ways. At first, I thought I might be gay, but I know I’m not. I can like men, but not sexually.”

“I can like women, but not sexually,” Phil said with a laugh.

“Could you kiss one?”

“On the cheek, I could. On the lips—a big sloppy one—ugh! No!”

“Me neither. Ugh! No! The problem is I couldn’t do it to a man either.”

Phil nodded his understanding.

“There’s nothing wrong with my libido,” Nick started saying.

“There’s nothing wrong at all,” said Phil.

“Thanks. What I mean is, being ace doesn’t mean that I never feel horny. I do. It just means that I’d rather…”

“Slake your own thirst?” Phil finished for him. “That’s how Mike would put it anyway.”

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Always Ours by J.P. James: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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Exclusive Excerpt from Always Ours

by J.P. James

“Walk me home?” I ask the twins shyly.

I have to fight past my nerves if I want them to take me seriously.  Hell, I need to do this if I’m going to take myself seriously.

Logan and Mason share glances and then nod.  I know these guys are big and strong, but I can’t help going mushy whenever they look at each other.  I might not ever be able to understand their twin language, but it’s a privilege to witness.

I don’t want to be alone, so I’m grateful when they agree to take me home.  I live in a tiny apartment on the top floor of a five-story building.  Of course, there are plenty of stairs and the three of us smile as we ascend.

“Police Academy training has nothing on this walk-up,” Logan chuckles as we hit the fourth floor.

“I’m used to it,” I explain with a spring in my step.

“I can tell,” Mason husks.

I feel the firm, sure touch of his hand at my ass as we ascend the stairs.  I laugh but don’t bother batting his hand away.  I love that he appreciates my body.  I don’t exercise much, but I have to scale one hundred and thirty-two steps at least once a day.  My lower body is made of steel, and if these guys want to admire it, I’m not going to stop them.  If anything, it gives me a confidence boost.

Without thinking, I let out a low purr.  It’s quiet in the staircase, and I know I can’t it play off like an actual cat escaped a neighbor’s apartment.

I turn around to face them, and find their hungry eyes feasting on my body.  I watch the rise and fall of their chests as they try to calm their breathing, but my little outburst unleashed more of their animalistic grit.  I consider it a privilege that I can do this to them.

Everything about these guys feels like a privilege, if I’m being honest, and I don’t want to deny myself the pleasure either.  My body screams for Logan and Mason, as if I belong to them already.  Doctor Marty says I should focus on the things I have control over, and I’ve been thinking about that a lot.  I’m tired of feeling overwhelmed and helpless.  I want to chase the things that inspire and empower me, and never look back.

Right now, what empowers me is having my buff saviors by my side.  Logan and Mason treat me right.  When I feel anxious, I remember their sure, comforting touches and their gentle, kind words.  It warms me, and calms the ache in my heart.

It’s what I need to feel and hear tonight. 

I think this does more healing for me than any therapy.  I know Doctor Marty is a professional, but these guys mend my body and soul more than they know.

“My apartment is at the end of the hall,” I explain as I push the door open to the fifth floor.  “Would you like to come in for a bit?”

They nod and pick up the pace behind me.  I notice their eyes shift around as we cross towards my front door.  In fact, I think they’ve been watching for lurkers and creeps the entire walk home.  Maybe it’s their training that makes them act this way, but I like to think there’s something special about this level of security.  Something reserved only for me.  Dare to dream, I guess.

“This is nice,” Mason says, stepping into my apartment with Logan on his heels.  I shut the door behind them, feeling my heart start to quicken.

“It’s tiny,” I tell them, but Logan shakes off my remark.

“It might be tiny but it’s clean.  If you weren’t pursuing interior design, now would be the time we tried to convince you to,” he says with an affirming smile.  “Your décor is amazing.”

Yum.  Every word out of their mouths gives me strength.

I gesture for them to sit at the leather couch in the living room.

“My Aunt Darcy bought this sofa and also my bed.  They’re the only nice things I own because everything else is Ikea, until I get a real job at least,” I joke.

“It’s beautiful,” says Mason as he grips the leather cushion beneath him.

“And there’s nothing wrong with Ikea,” Logan adds.  “It has its uses.”

I pull a cushion from the closet and set it on the ground in front of them.

“Hey, don’t sit there,” Mason starts, but my hand flies up to stop him.

“Believe me, I like sitting on the ground.  Plus, this way I can admire both of you at the same time,” I tell them.  I can feel the blush on my cheeks but I fight through it.

“Thank you,” Logan chuckles.  “You’re really sweet.”  Mason smiles too.

“I wanted to tell you something,” I say as I look between their beautiful blue eyes.  I take my seat on the cushion, and push my knees up to my chest as I cradle myself for comfort.

“Yes?” the twins ask.  I take a deep breath.

“Well, I started going to therapy because you know the city pays for it after an attack like the one I had.  I had my first session the other day, and I have another appointment next week.  Until I can get my anxiety under control.”

Their eyes are a complex mix of affection and sadness, the blue going from light to dark, and then back again.  They’re happy that I’m seeking treatment, but it’s another reminder of how we know one another, and how we got to this place.  The good with the bad, I suppose.

“We’re proud of you,” Mason promises, looking directly into my eyes.  “It’s important to take your mental health seriously.”

Logan nods all the same.  “Exactly.  You’re brave, but we already knew that.  This is to help you recover even more.”

The blush hasn’t left my face.  If anything, I feel warmer and definitely want to take my shirt off, anything to get some cold air on my skin.

“There’s something we want to ask you too,” Logan says in the next moment.

I look between them, but their expressions are unreadable.  “Sure, ask away.”

“The trial for your attacker is in a few days.  I was thinking about testifying, if that’s alright with you,” Logan confesses.

My chest tightens, but the twins have their hands on me before I freak out.

“We don’t want to stress you out,” Mason adds.  “But the DA has asked us to get up on the stand.”

I steady my breathing, trying to focus on their touch.

“That’s alright.  It’s fine.  I’m going to be fine,” I say.

Mason nods, and I can feel my face burning up.  It’s not like they have any choice when it comes to testifying.  But still, their concern shakes me to my core.  It’s all so much, how these guys take care of me and ask about getting up on the stand, as if my opinion makes a difference.  In such a short time, they’ve become important people in my life.  I can feel it everywhere, in my heart, in my head, and in my groin right now.

“You seem flushed,” Logan notes as his eyes rake over my face.  They dip lower, taking in the rest of me as I unfurl my knees from my chest.

“Yeah,” I breathe.  “I can’t help it.”

I let my gaze wander over their bodies.  They must like it too, both of them spreading their arms and legs wider on the couch, giving my eyes as much of them as possible.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” Mason asks.  He tries to sound innocent but my ears find nothing of the sort behind his hoarse voice.

I focus again on them, succumbing to the fire building in my chest.  “I want you.  Both of you.  Is that okay?”

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Book Review: Soft Place to Fall by B.A. Tortuga

Reviewed by Nikyta

Title: Soft Place to Fall
Author: B.A. Tortuga
Heroes: Stetson & Curtis
Genre: M/M Contemporary
Length: 237 pages
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Release Date: April 9, 2019
Available at: Dreamspinner Press & Amazon
Add it to your shelf: Goodreads

Blurb: Stetson Major and Curtis Traynor are about as opposite as two cowboys can get. Stetson is a rancher, tied to the land he loves in Taos, New Mexico, while Curtis is a rodeo cowboy whose wanderlust never could be tamed.

But now Stetson’s momma is dying of Alzheimer’s, and she can’t remember that Curtis hasn’t been Stetson’s boyfriend for a long time. Curtis’s absence makes her cry, so Stetson swallows his pride and calls his ex-lover.

To Curtis, Stetson is the one who got away, the love of his life. And Momma is his friend, so he’s happy to help out. Yet returning to the ranch stirs up all sorts of feelings that, while buried, never really went away. Still, the rodeo nationals are coming up, and Curtis can’t stay… even if he’s starting to want to, especially to support Stetson when he needs it most.

Stetson and Curtis want to find a place where they both fit, to be there to catch each other when they fall. But family, money problems, and the call of the rodeo circuit might end their second-chance romance before it even gets started. Continue reading

Categories: 4 Star Ratings, Book Review, LGBT, Nikyta's Reviews, Published in 2019 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Release Blitz: Finding Finlay by Ruby Moone + Excerpt & Giveaway!

Finding Finlay by Ruby Moone

Aaron Baker has a problem. His online clothing company is under attack. Whilst MC Securities tackle the breaches in security, he asks for an agent to pose as his fake boyfriend. He doesn’t bargain for getting a snarky, ex-marine with sad, blue eyes and submissive tendencies.

Dumped by his boyfriend, Finlay Masters concludes that the best, and safest, place for him is to return to the closet. Kicked out by his parents as a kid for being gay, closeted in the army for fifteen years, body wrecked by an explosion that cost him his job, he isn’t the best bet for any kind of relationship. Even a fake one.

As the investigation mounts, Aaron wants more, but Finn has no faith in love, never dared need anyone. Aaron talks of how lucky he is to find him, but Finn knows if he is to have a chance at a relationship at all, he needs to find himself.

Each book in the MC Securities Series can be read as standalone. 

Available at: Amazon

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Categories: Book Promo, Excerpts, Giveaways, LGBT, Published in 2019 | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

Chasing Chance by M.E. Parker: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

Blogger_Exclusive Excerpt

Exclusive Excerpt from Chasing Chance

by M.E. Parker

SET UP: This except is told from Andy’s point of view. After years of not speaking to each other, Andy and Chance have had an ‘encounter.’ Andy has not shared what happened with his friends. Andy and his friends prepare to watch what will turn out to be Chance’s biggest game of the season.

Two hours later, we were walking across the hall to Ben and Jordy’s apartment. Kick-off was at one o’clock and I only had a few minutes to get settled in front of the TV. Not that I would ever tell Chance, but I’d never missed a game since he started playing for the Lions. Of course, I never cared that much about football, but it was fun watching Chance play. It was a small way to hold on to him, I guessed. But that day, I was so freakin’ excited I couldn’t stand it. Jordy and Cam mostly just tolerated watching the games. Ben, on the other hand, was fanatical. He loved American football. It had become a tradition for the four of us to watch it together.

“Ugh… no offense to your friend Chance, but I’m glad football season is almost over. I’m ready for a new Saturday routine,” Cameron whined as we crossed the hall.

Before I could answer, Ben threw the door open. He was wearing a bright green Lions jersey that he’d paired with a pair of hot pink pants and a pair of white Vans. “Who let the Lions out, who, who?” he chanted, holding up his hand for a high five. I laughed and high-fived him.

Cam followed behind me. “Just so you know, that chant does not work at all with a British accent.”

I was still laughing when Ben replied, “What’s got your knickers in a twist? Have you no school spirit, man?”

“Rah. Rah,” Cam deadpanned as we descended onto the couch.

Jordy was at his drafting table working furiously on a design and ignoring us.

“So, please tell me the rumors are true. Are you really bonking Chance Wyrick?” Ben asked.

I leaned forward and looked at Cam who was sitting on the other side of Ben. “I wonder where that rumor started.” Cam pretended to examine his fingernails. “No, it’s not true. We were friends growing up. No one’s bonking anyone.”

Ben sighed. “Oh well, that’s quite a shame. Was he really at your flat last night?”

I rolled my eyes. Of course Cameron had given them the entire play by play last night. “Yeah, he stopped by,” I said, not wanting to elaborate.

“Next time he stops by, as you say, an introduction would be nice. I can’t believe you never told me you knew him. Could he get us tickets for a game?” Ben asked.

“Or better yet, could he get us into the locker room?” Cam interrupted.

I snorted. “Yes. Let me just call him up and ask him if he could get me and my three gay friends into the locker room so that we can ogle him and his teammates.”

“I should think they’d be flattered,” Ben said. “We are the hottest gays at Gilcrest.”

Cam spoke up. “Truer words were never spoken.”

“And don’t forget the most humble,” I added.

Jordy finally made a sound in the form of a snicker from his drafting table.

Cam sighed. “It really is a shame I misread the situation. I could swear my gaydar pinged last night. It’s never wrong.”

“Mine too,” Jordy said quietly.

I looked up at him, trying desperately not to show my surprise.

“Really?” Cam asked, turning towards him.

Jordy shrugged. “Yeah. We’re in some of the same classes. I haven’t met him. But there was a time during my freshman year that I thought maybe he was queer. But he definitely dates girls. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

“Hmmm… such a pity,” Cam said.

I focused on the TV, hoping the conversation was over. It was only a couple of minutes from kick-off and the commentators were discussing the defensive weaknesses of each team. Cam let out a loud sigh. “I’m already bored. Would anyone like a White Lion?” The White Lion was our signature cocktail for football games. Cam had insisted that we have a signature cocktail. It was really just a Mojito with a new name. “Me,” I said.

Ben raised his hand. “Me.”

“Three,” Jordy uttered from his drafting table.

The teams’ rosters scrolled across the screen and, as soon as the headshot of Chance popped up, filling the screen, an entire flock of butterflies set loose in my stomach. He looked so fucking hot in his Lions jersey. He was wearing the classic Chance Wyrick smile. And his big, brown eyes felt like they were staring straight at me. I’m totally fucked. No doubt about it. Continue reading

Categories: Book Promo, Excerpts, Giveaways, LGBT, Published in 2019 | Tags: , , | Leave a comment