Published in 2020

Matched To His Wolf by Lorelei M. Hart & Colbie Dunbar: Exclusive Excerpt!

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Exclusive Excerpt from Matched To His Wolf

by Lorelei M. Hart & Colbie Dunbar

“Watch where—Bentley,” the man said, who I now recognized as a lawyer from the firm we used.

“Brad, dressed in liquor are we.” I inhaled deeply to prove my point and was stopped dead in my tracks. It wasn’t just booze saturating his scent. Mate.

A growl built in my chest as I grabbed the bear’s shirt. 

“What the fuck, Bentley?” His bear rose within him, pushing to get out, Brad’s eyes no longer his own and snapping me out of my building rage. 

“Sorry.” I stepped back. Could I take Brad? That was debatable. Did I want to find out? Fuck no. “I thought—never mind.”

“You’re lucky your business is more valuable than my pride right now, you dog,” his spit reached my face. “What a fucked-up day.” He turned around and started to leave, mumbling to himself. 

That could’ve gone much worse. I needed to get my shit together. 

“Stupid human shows up for a date and then the damn wolf gets in my face.” He walked out of earshot as the truth of what he’d just said rang clear. He’d had a date with Colin.

Did the man have a death wish randomly going on blind dates with shifters? And how did he even know how to set them up? Rob and his stupid-ass codes.

I stalked in the direction Brad had come, assuming he had been at the bar given his scent and level of intoxication. It took a lot to get a bear drunk. Chances were good that he started well before happy hour.

I opened the door, and sure as shit, there was Colin sliding off of the bar stool. Did the man want to die a painful death? In this place he was the prey.

“Shame he’s leaving. We might’ve had fun,” some piece of garbage called out from the back. My wolf wanted to go over there and tear his throat out, but not more than he needed to protect our omega. The omega. Colin.

He sauntered in my direction, putting on a brave face, his fear palpable.

Brave.

I opened the door again, louder this time so everyone in the bar would notice. I needed them to see he was protected in case he ever attempted anything this dumb again.

Ours.

My wolf needed to pipe down.

Colin met my eyes, stopping his journey only briefly and then closing the distance between us, attempting to walk around me. “Let me by.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” I scolded low and firm, my wolf so present my body shook slightly to contain him. 

“You are not the boss of—” 

Forget that noise, I grabbed his hand and hauled him out of there. I needed to get him home and safe.

His home.

Not mine.

Probably.

I dragged him down to the corner, the one in the opposite direction of where I came. My wolf wouldn’t allow me to bring him closer to Brad, even if Brad was most likely already home and back to his drinking.

The scent of cigarettes to my left had me swapping sides with the omega, my fingers grazing and holding his for a few seconds and only pissing him off more. Did he not see I was saving his ass?

“Get your hands off me.” He shrugged out of my grip, and I allowed it. Out here I could protect him. It was one cigarette guy that reeked of rat and my wolf. No contest. In the bar? That was a completely different story. I might be fierce, but thirty against one never ended well for the one.

“We may have fucked, but that doesn’t give you the right to manhandle me.” 

The man with the cigarette stepped out into the light and started to clap, his eyes shifting. Yep. Rat. And the rat was eyeing my mate like a delicious morsel.

I turned my head and allowed my wolf to shine through, and he took the hint and scampered away as Colin took a step towards a car at the curb.

He drove! On top of meeting a stranger—a bear at that—at the seediest bar in town, he planned to drive home afterward?

It was official, Colin needed his own security team if these were the types of decisions he made.

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Hardwood by K.M. Neuhold: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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by K.M. Neuhold

“Shit,” I curse under my breath. “Not to add to the situation, but I really have to pee.”

“Dammit, what are we going to do?” he asks, his eyes pleading as he starts to chew on his bottom lip. During our make-out session, one of my hands seems to have made it onto his chest, and I can feel his heart pounding now as panic starts to set in.

“Take a deep breath. We can figure a way out of this.”

“I can’t very well come stumbling out of the closet with my daughter’s music teacher. No matter how perfect that metaphor would be,” Everett points out sounding a bit frantic.

“Okay, calm down. Give me a second to think.” We don’t exactly have a lot of options here. I can still hear both muffled voices right outside the door.

“Of all the ways I could end up coming out to Val,” he mutters. “And, fuck, are you going to get in trouble for fooling around with a parent in the janitor’s closet?”

“Ev,” I say firmly but quietly. “Listen to me, this isn’t how you’re coming out to Val. And I’m not going to get in trouble, although of all the reasons I could lose a job, making out with a hot dad in the janitor’s closet would be my preferred way to go.”

“Sorry. If I have a meltdown, it’s not going to help anything,” he says.

“Exactly. Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.” I check over his appearance quickly to make sure he doesn’t look like he’s been in here getting ravaged. “You go out there, and I’ll stay here.”

“What?”

“Play dumb, act like you got turned around while looking for the bathroom, and then lead Val away from here so I can come out,” I explain.

“I got turned around looking for the bathroom and have been standing in the broom closet for ten minutes?” he hisses. “Am I supposed to pretend I took a piss in the mop bucket too?”

“Do you have a better idea?” I challenge.

He clenches his jaw and is quiet for several seconds before pressing his ear to the door to listen and cursing again.

“All right, fine. It’s going to be a miracle if Val buys this.”

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Ride the Lightning by Aimee Nicole Walker: Exclusive Excerpt!

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by Aimee Nicole Walker

Avery stood up and stretched his arms up over his head before bending his upper body to the left and right, stretching his back and abdomen. His untucked dress shirt had risen in the process, giving Jonah a peek at pale flesh that would contrast so nicely against his darker, olive-toned skin. Was that a cinnamon-colored freckle above the waistband of Avery’s pants? Where else did he have freckles? Jonah wanted to lick a path between each one. A grown-up version of connect the dots.

“You need to get up and stretch to get the blood flowing.”

Jonah’s blood was pumping fine and heading straight to his dick. Standing up would not be in his best interest. “I’m good,” he told Avery.

“We’ve been at this for hours, and your brain has been as busy as my fingers,” Avery said, interrupting Jonah’s thoughts before they could get too out of control.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Avery smirked. “There’s smoke coming out of your ears. Maybe you’ll feel better if you get things off your chest. You’ve had a pretty shitty week. Let’s get out of here and get some fresh air and a bite to eat.”

Jonah’s first instinct was to grab a snack and keep working, but he knew Avery was right. “Fine,” he agreed after a few moments. “But no avocados.”

“I have Benadryl in my desk,” Avery grumbled.

“No avocados or no lunch date.” Oh, shit. Why had he called it that? They’d had lunch together dozens of times since Avery started working for him.

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Heart2Heart Vol. 4 – A Caller From Austin by Susi Hawke: Exclusive Excerpt!

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by Susi Hawke

God, I wished someone would kill me now. First, the vampire I’d told to hit the bricks turned out to be my favorite author. I couldn’t take back my first impression where I’d threatened to kill him, or the second where I threatened it again. Now my mother wanted to discuss my so-called sexual repression? Jeebus.

I sat back down when I realized I was making a scene. Dammit, apparently a man not only couldn’t have privacy in his own home, but he couldn’t storm off in a huff either. At least, not without making his mother’s ramblings sound valid.

Mama gave me a break—or so I could hope—and looked at Storm with fresh interest. “Storm, it occurs to me that you can’t have been a vampire for long if your twin sister still looks the same age as you. And we all know you won’t age now that you’re immortal. Pardon me if I’m touching on a sensitive topic, but do you mind if I ask how you came to be a vampire? I’m curious because I thought vampires stayed in a central nest, and yet here you are being such a good brother to your sister.”

Before I could stop myself, my hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. “Storm, you absolutely do not have to answer any questions that come out of my mom’s mouth. She’s nosier than a hound dog on the hunt.” I jerked my hand back, glaring at the intrigued look on my mother’s face.

Shaking my head in her direction, I blew out an exasperated breath and turned back to Storm. “Honestly, if you’re going to live here, then you might as well learn from the get-go that it’s perfectly okay for my mother’s curiosity to remain unfulfilled. Heck, some might even say it’s good for her.”

Storm’s eyes lit with silent laughter. “I don’t know about that, Darcy. It seems to me that curiosity left unfulfilled often leads to wild conjecture. I’d be better off just answering the question in the first place.” He winked and turned back to my mom. “As it happens, the jerk I was dating at the beginning of the war was a vampire. I had no idea because, like everyone else, I didn’t know the supernatural lore was based on truth until they came forward with that stupid press conference.”

I snorted. “God. That day when they revealed themselves and declared they were taking over because they were dominant and were better left in charge of the earth? I’ll never forget that. I mean, they had a point about us humans ruining it for everyone, but still. I can’t believe they didn’t expect war after that.”

Muriel nodded her agreement. “They would’ve won, too, if the supes hadn’t started fighting each other over which species was higher on the food chain. If they’d just maintained solidarity, we’d never have gotten that armistice agreement signed.”

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Honorary Blogger Rhys Ford: License to Stalk • Part Three + Giveaway!

Hello!

And welcome back to my world of dragons, intrigue, hot guns, fast cars and a grumpy, slightly anti-social Chimera of a Sidhe and an Unsidhe who really only wants to hunt monsters and go home to his probably carnivorous cat. My name is Rhys Ford and I’ll be your guide today as on July 14th, I’ll take you back to the Kai Gracen series for Book Four — Silk Dragon Salsa.

If you’re following the blog tour from the beginning, you can skip this bit and head to the serialized part of the story but if this is your first time with me, let me ramble a bit about my grouchy special kitten, Kai. I’ve used the past three books to set up his relationships and world and kind of settling him for what should have been a changing environment. He’s never really had a lot of contact with the elfin and never really wanted any. Ryder, the Lord of the Southern Rise Court, blew into Kai’s life like a hurricane with a grudge and Kai’s had to not only learn how to get along with the man but also adjust to the fact the elfin are in his life to stay. Not something Kai ever wanted. He was raised by humans, thinks of himself as human, and was pretty happy about it.

Then his world changed and he was dragged kicking and screaming and probably stabbing into a bit of elfin affairs even as he knew it would probably be the death of him.

And in Silk Dragon Salsa, I really turn his world upside down.

It was a long time coming and Kai, in his true quick-on-his-feet fashion, knows he must change with it. Because the Merged world is going forward — with or without his approval — and this time, he has a chance for a bit of happiness, if he can find it in the chaos storm hunting him down in Silk Dragon Salsa.

License to Stalk • Part Three

by Rhys Ford

“I hate salamanders.” This wasn’t news to Jonas. Especially considering he probably heard me say that exact same thing at least twenty times since we’d hit the tree line. “It’s like they’re pissed off because they’re not real dragons and gotta take it out on everyone else.”

It was a shit job. But shit jobs meant money in my pocket — well Dempsey’s pocket — and I liked eating.

Until — if — I got a Stalker’s license, I couldn’t claim bounty on anything I took in except for a black dog. The ainmhi dubh were like feral pigs, legal to hunt at any time of the year and anyone with enough guts to go after the insane abominations some Wild Hunt master dragged together from spare body parts could cash in on any state’s reward for its skin. The bigger the pelt, the bigger the payout and since no one could ever figure out a way to breed the bastards, any black dog anyone caught and killed was definitely one more monster taken off the land.

Salamanders were a different story.

They were a pain in the ass and came in different flavors, everything from the sleek, fire-gilled ones to the rhino-sized sewer dwelling monsters who liked to chew on concrete foundations. There was a make and model for any kind of trouble and the particular piece of shit salamander we were after today was a spotted Martin’s forest warbler.

Or as many farmers liked to call them… damned chicken munchers.

The diamonds I’d dug for would be enough to keep us going for six months but I didn’t like living too close to the edge. When we did, it was usually me that went into the dirty to get us out and if I didn’t dig through dragon shit again any time soon, I’d be happy. Dempsey tapped out of the run so it was just me and Jonas stalking the tree line. Montana was filthy with forests but there was enough clear land and townships to support a healthy farming and cattle industry.

Although a slimy reptilian predator the size of a lion and able to slither under chicken wire to eat livestock went a long way into making a rough, hardscrabble life even harder.

“You okay with getting your Stalker license?” Jonas dropped his hot little verbal ember into my lap, his eyes scanning the thicket for any sign of movement. “It’ll mean you being able to cut loose of Dempsey. Be your own man.”

I gave him a long look then answered, picking my way carefully through the pile of dead sticks and leaves as silently as I could. “I owe Dempsey my life. Not going to up and leave him now. If the old man needs me, I’m there. Just like always. Going to be a time when he can’t do this life any more. Got no savings. Don’t even have any land he can call his own. It’ll be my time to take care of him then.”

“Like you’re not doing that now?” He rumbled, stopping suddenly. “That it? Over there?”

“Nah, deer.” If we weren’t on a run, I’d have taken a shot at the buck. Venison was good eating and we had enough room in the solar-powered cooler in the back of the truck to hold at least a quarter of it. The rest could go to the families who’d hired us to hunt the salamander but now wasn’t the time. “Look, they might not even let me have a license. I’m not human. Shit, there’s still places I have to hide my ears and face so I don’t get shot when we go inside. It’s a crap shoot, Jonas, but one I’m willing to risk.”

“You’re just a kid, Kai.” Jonas sounded like he was trying to argue a point but I wasn’t sure what it was. “You should be in school, cruising for a Saturday night date so you can get your first kiss and complaining about doing homework. The family was talking about it and they’d like you to come down. Live with us in San Diego —”

“I’m not a kid, Jonas. Never have been,” I cut him off. “First kiss has come and gone. Just like my first kill. That life? It’s not mine. Save it for your kids because I’m not going to live it. Now let’s go find that damned slimy bastard so I can get something to eat. And on the way out, keep an eye out for that deer. Be nice not to have to pay for a steak.”

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Marked by Lightning by Jessamyn Kingley: Exclusive Excerpt!

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Exclusive Excerpt from Marked by Lightning

by Jessamyn Kingley

“You’re very accomplished for someone so young. A High Arcanist of two colors as well as Arch Wizard,” Callyx said. “And you’ve got this great cat.” Emrys was rubbing against Callyx’s legs, which made the sentinel turn from his self-assigned box duty to scratch the cat’s chin.

“I almost created a dragon. I don’t know why. I used to dream about them too. They were always rescuing me. I guess you must really like them, Vadimas, since you chose that for your familiar.”

“I live by the rules of a dragon, was welcomed into a family by a dragon, and my two High Arcanists, who’ve taught me far more than I could’ve imagined or instructed them, have dragon familiars. In my mind, there was no question about what path I would go.”

“So, you’ve been a D’Vaire a long time? I only summoned my familiar after I became Arch Wizard.”

“I didn’t accept my violet until Del and Idris ascended to High Arcanist a few years ago.”

“I remember the news around then,” Callyx mused. “Even the gossip channels couldn’t stop talking about it. The Council was so happy for you.”

For a sentinel who only saw beauty in their own mates, it might be difficult for Callyx and Faron to understand why gossip hosts would comment, but Vadimas had been fully aware he’d gone from toad to prince. He was the one who had to wake up to see new wrinkles popping up and soap between all the folds of sagging, thin skin in the shower each morning. What no one knew was that he’d had to drink potions twice a day to keep his face from aging as quickly as the rest of him. They saw a wise man with brown eyes, lines, and gray hair that tended to be wiry. If it were reality, Vadimas wouldn’t have had complaints, but it hadn’t stayed that way for very long. Each decade he denied his violet, the process sped up.

When he undressed at night, the fabric of his clothes tore abrasions over his flesh that was too weak to handle normal wear and tear. He’d dosed himself with healing potions to keep the cataracts at bay, to reverse the pervasive arthritis, and he didn’t even want to think about the incontinence issues he’d had to combat daily. To have put it behind him was such a relief, Vadimas got up each morning and thanked Fate for giving him Delaney and Idris.

“Gossip channels?” Severin asked.

“Vadimas looked different. You’ll see the pictures tomorrow at the Spectra Wizardry,” Faron explained. “Should I make an appointment at the Order of the Fallen Knights for Severin to get an identification card?”

“I forgot about that; he will need to be able to get around. We’ll go before Council session. You two need your titles as well. I’m sure there’s paperwork I’ve got to sign,” Vadimas responded.

“Can I read one of these tonight?” Severin asked as he carefully arranged books around to squeeze more onto the shelves.

“You’re welcome to help yourself to anything in the house, including the books. It’s a good thing you’re close to my size, so you can borrow some clothes. The fallen knights are going to complain that you aren’t wearing a crown tomorrow, but I’m afraid I don’t have a spare.”

“The Arch Wizard doesn’t wear a crown.”

Vadimas’s eyebrows rose. “Egidius had the largest and ugliest crown I’ve ever seen.”

“Yes, but crowns are old-fashioned.”

“Is that what Jael told you?”

Severin nodded. “I think I would also feel strange wearing one. It seems kind of showy.”

“Not every race uses them, but I like mine, and I’m proud to carry on ancient traditions, including crowns worn by the leaders of the wizards. And here you won’t be addressed as the Arch Wizard. The Circle of Wizards doesn’t belong to the Council—the Spectra Wizardry does, and the title recognized by my people is Prism Wizard. Or in your case Prism Wizard-mate.”

“I guess it doesn’t matter, since I won’t be here that long anyway. We’re going to meet with Their Majesties tomorrow, right?”

“I’ve texted Niko, and he’s going to see what he can do, but as you can imagine, with the dragons and over a hundred other races to govern, Their Majesties are busy. They can’t drop everything to help out the Consilium Veneficus with their problems.”

“Sentinels can be invisible, right?”

“Severin, Callyx and Faron answer to the Lich Sentinel first and the Council second. They can’t race to the Consilium and slit Jael’s throat so you can wade in to try to clean up the giant mess he and his father have made.”

“I didn’t say kill him.”

“If these wizards are as loyal to him as you say, then his death is the only thing that will right the ship.”

“He was the great Egidius’s son. Of course they’re loyal to him.”

“Do not call him great in my presence again, and they’re loyal only to their own best interests,” Vadimas snapped. No one in his life was able to push his buttons like the handsome man staring at him with a mixture of frustration, innocence, and stubbornness in his mismatched eyes. He liked to think of himself as unflappable, but Severin just might have him re-evaluating a great deal more than what Fate was up to when she made her mate choices.

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North Point by Thom Collins: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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by Thom Collins

Arnie passed in front of the recently regenerated waterfront, past the restaurants and craft shops, and the specialist food stores selling local fish and produce. People sat outside the many bars and pubs, enjoying the terraces, drinking in the sun. He kept moving, not wanting to be seen or recognized, and without consciously planning it, found himself on the approach to the lifeboat station.

And there was Dominic.

The wide front doors of the station were open. Dominic appeared to be giving instructions to a younger man, gesturing toward the lifeboat.

He wore a dark gray T-shirt and cargo shorts. The outfit hugged his broad physique, contouring the muscles of his chest and shoulders, and the mighty fine sweep of his big arse. His skin was deeply tanned, an obvious benefit of his outdoor pursuits. No tattoos that Arnie could see, and he was quietly pleased. So many guys were excessively inked these days, that it was refreshing to find a man who wasn’t.

He liked the short cut of Dominic’s hair and the way it graded into the brown skin on the back of his neck. Despite its thickness on top, there was something military-looking in its practical style. And it suited him. A lot.

A queer feeling came over Arnie as he watched Dominic. It was unusual for a stranger to affect him in this way, on a purely physical level, provoking an odd, nervous sensation. It reminded him of live performance. Those last few tension filled minutes before going on stage—a mix of fear, anticipation and excitement.

Pull yourself together. This is no opening night. He’s just a nice, regular guy. Go over and say hello.

Arnie took a deep breath and approached the station with a confidence he did not feel.

“Hi,” he said, sounding light, casual. Like speaking to Dominic was no big deal.

Dominic turned. His dark eyes settled on Arnie and, as recognition dawned, Arnie could swear he saw them sparkle. A huge grin spread across Dominic’s face, quite disarming in contrast with his naturally moody countenance.

“Hey. How are you doing?”

He stuck out his hand. Was it Arnie’s imagination, or was Dominic’s grip firmer and more lingering than last night?

“I’m good, thanks. I didn’t expect to see you here today.”

“I call by the station most afternoons,” he said. “There’s always something to be done. Maintenance, cleaning, inventory. After a shout like yesterday, I like to double-check that all the supplies we used have been replenished. The first aid kit and stuff like that. This is Noel,” he said, introducing the young man with him.

Noel was in his late teens, with dark red hair and a freckled complexion. He smiled self-consciously and didn’t offer his hand. He lacked Dominic’s confidence, but Arnie supposed most other men would.

“Hi. Nice to meet you,” Arnie said.

The boy nodded awkwardly. Arnie didn’t pursue it further. He noticed that with a lot of young people these days—so many of them were lacking in basic social skills. He was determined AJ wouldn’t fall into that trap.

“Have you got time for a drink?” Dominic asked. “Tea? Coffee? Something cold? We were just about to take a break.”

“I’d love one, thanks.”

He followed Dominic to the crew room.

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Extraordinary Things by Beth Bolden: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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by Beth Bolden

A week later, Caleb and Leo sat in their living room, watching the last bits of sun fall over the ocean. “Did Benji say why we needed to clear our schedule for the weekend?” Caleb asked. They’d already been out to dinner, grabbing sushi at one of their favorite places.

Yesterday, Benji had called, claiming that he and Leo needed to be “totally available” for the next two days, starting at eight PM on Friday. That was still an hour away, and Caleb could tell how antsy Leo was about not knowing every single detail about what was going on.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense. They weren’t even supposed to be here,” Leo said, drumming his fingers on the arm of the sofa. “They were supposed to be gone for at least another month in South America, and now they’re back, and making demands.” He sounded put out. “I had to call in like fifty favors with Felix, who understandably wants to spend time with his new boyfriend, and here I am, begging off for an entire weekend.”

It wasn’t great timing for Caleb either. Steve and Mario had flown in last week, and they’d worked on the songs he’d initially started with Brad, as well as a few others. Caleb had made enough progress that he actually felt like he might want to pull in another producer soon, just to help polish up some of the tracks—and to work on the one, final song that he still hadn’t really touched. His heart wanted it, no matter what made logical sense, to be Leo, but he still hadn’t figured out a way to ask. He’d been working up to the question, when Benji had called with his request for two free days.

“Laurel will be fine. She’s settling in great with Felix,” Caleb soothed. He reached out and captured Leo’s hand with his own, stopping the relentless, nervous tapping of his fingers. “She’ll be fine for two days. She even told you to go.”

“Yeah, it’s not her I’m worried about,” Leo retorted.

“Felix will be fine, too.” But Caleb was sure Felix would figure out a way to extract his own unique pound of flesh. After all, that was kind of Felix’s signature. Caleb wasn’t even sure, two years into his new relationship with Leo, that he had truly forgiven him for the way the first one had ended.

Nobody was more loyal than Felix Humphries; but nobody else could quite hold a grudge like him either.

“I hope so,” Leo said, then paused. “I’m sure this wasn’t great timing for you, either. You’ve been at the studio every single day for a week. It must be going really well.”

Leo had asked so many leading questions just like this one. He’d even asked several at dinner, only an hour or so earlier. But Caleb didn’t know how to talk about the album—at least not until he could figure out a way to pull Leo in, to play it for him, and ask him what he should be tweaking.

“I’m happy with it,” Caleb said. “We’ve made progress.”

“And you like these guys you met in Fiji? Even though they’re Brad Maxwell’s people?”

“They’re musicians. Brad doesn’t own them,” Caleb said. “And yeah, they’re cool. They like my stuff, and maybe I’m egotistical enough to surround myself with yes men.”

Leo rolled his eyes fondly. “If that was true, I’d have convinced you to play it for me before now.”

“Soon,” Caleb said. Why didn’t he just ask? He didn’t know. The problem was that all the ways he kept planning started with, this whole album is about you, and even though Caleb was madly in love—still, always, forever—it didn’t feel like a very productive start to a conversation about producing an album.

“So you don’t really have a clue what Benji and Diego want?” Leo said, changing the subject. “No theories, even?”

Caleb had one theory; it was just crazy enough that they might’ve done it. “Do you think they’re eloping?” he asked.

“What,” Leo screeched.

“I mean . . . it’s not the most outlandish theory,” Caleb defended.

“Like they would ever dare to get married before us,” Leo said, his eyes suddenly growing huge, like he hadn’t realized he’d actually said that out loud.

Caleb laughed and gripped Leo’s hand tightly. “Do you really want to elope?” he asked. He’d tried for a casual tone, but there was nothing casual about asking the love of your life how he felt about getting married.

But Leo only shrugged. “I never worried about it, not ever, but if they beat us down the aisle? I’ll be happy for them, I guess, but . . .”

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Wild and Precious by CJane Elliot: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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by CJane Elliot

Sunday was another hot and muggy day, but Brent and Graham stayed cool hanging out in the Hirshhorn. Brent didn’t know much about modern art, and Graham proved a fascinating guide, making Brent see things in the paintings that he never would have on his own.

After they were done with the exhibits, they went outside to stroll through the sculpture garden. As they gazed at an Alexander Calder sculpture, Brent asked, “Are you an artist too?”

“Sort of. Not anywhere in the league of these guys. My mother is the true artist in our family. I paint and sketch some, and I love interior decorating. Shut up—I know it’s a stereotype.” Graham waved his hands around. “My God, dear, those curtains will never do!” 

“No, you shut up. I wasn’t thinking that at all. You have an eye for stuff. I mean, the way you dress, even how your office looks, so I’m not surprised about the interior decorating.”

“You like my office?” Graham looked pleased.

Brent raised a playful eyebrow. “Well, yeah. It’s much classier than those cubicles you stuck the staff in.”

“Ouch. Sorry.”

“Naw, I could have made my cubicle more colorful by now. But I don’t have your eye. Like those paintings. I saw a crap ton more in them with you showing me than I would’ve by myself.”

“A crap ton?” Graham laughed. “That’s eloquent.” He bumped Brent lightly on the shoulder. “But thanks. I liked showing you.”

Before they left the gallery, Graham stopped in the store and bought a striking Miró print, then presented it to Brent with a flourish. “For you. To decorate your cubicle.”

That evening, Brent let himself back into his apartment, setting the Miró print and his keys on the table. His laptop beckoned, but he had no desire to work on his writing. Instead, he flung himself on the couch and closed his eyes as pictures of the day floated in front of him: Graham, laughing, handsome in his casual jacket and tight jeans; Graham, pointing out something in a picture on the wall; Graham, smiling at him, gray eyes alight; Graham…. Crap.

Brent jumped up and started pacing. After two laps around the living room, he came to a halt, nodded decisively, and grabbed his wallet, pulling out a folded paper napkin. Opening up his laptop, he navigated to Match.com, and started typing.

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

Back to You by Kiska Gray: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

Blogger_Exclusive Excerpt

Exclusive Excerpt from Back to You

by Kiska Gray

Holy hell. 

He climbed on top of me, kissing his way up my body. His hands framed my face and he thrust his tongue into my mouth. I moaned and wrapped my arms around his neck, panting for breath between demanding, passionate kisses. When he pulled back, his eyes were as black as an inky sea, his pupils blown out with desire.

“Want you,” he mumbled against my lips, our noses rubbing together. “I want you so damn bad.” 

“Yeah?” I breathed.

He grabbed my hand and drew it down to his own erection. “Yeah. I’ve only been dreaming of fucking you since the day you left. Now that I found you…” His lips curled up at the corners. “I’m not letting you get away, not until I’ve left my mark.” He nipped my lip and tugged it into his mouth, his eyes going half-lidded. “If you want to wait…”

“No.” I pushed at his shoulder. “Bedroom?”

“Yes.” He jumped to his feet and grabbed my hand, and we ran down the hall. Dane dragged me into his room and kicked the door shut behind him. “Strip,” he barked. He reached back and tugged his t-shirt off, tossing it to the floor. 

“Bossy.” 

“You know it. Lose the shirt and the socks. I wanna see you naked, on your back, on my bed with your legs spread.” His face flushed, but the intensity in his eyes only brightened. My heart kicked in my chest. He toed off his shoes, and then his pants and those damnable silk boxers hit the floor. I stood there, in awe of his beauty, still wearing my shirt and socks. 

“Hollister Bay, if you don’t get naked, I’m gonna kick your ass—right after I’m done plowing it.”

I laughed and started stripping. “Someone’s horny.” 

“It’s your fault,” he replied. “Waltzing back into my life, too damn sexy to resist. Bed. Now.” 

With a snort, I walked past him—slowly—and slapped him on the ass. He yelped, then tackled me the moment I climbed into bed. The heat of his hard body rubbing shamelessly against mine was such a turn on that it made my head spin. I grasped at his shoulders and neck as he began to kiss me fervently once more. 

I reached between us and tugged on his erection, loving the feel of him in my hand. He was bigger than I remembered. Heat sizzled over my skin. Breathless, we parted. Dane rolled across the bed and dug around in his bedside table. He returned with a half-used bottle of lube and a condom pinched between two fingers. 

“Only if you’re sure,” he told me. 

“Dane, I’ve been waiting for this for what seems like a hundred years. Please. I want this, maybe even more than you do.” 

“I don’t know about that,” he murmured. 

“I do.” 

“Turn over. Hands and knees, ass in the air.” 

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