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Book Name: Shadows Fall
Author Name: J.K. Hogan
Release Date: June, 2015
Categories: Contemporary, Crime Fiction, Fiction, Gay Fiction, Romance, Thriller
Pages or Words: 100,000 words (pre-edits)
Publisher: Wilde City Press
Cover Artist: J.K. Hogan

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Author interview:

Today I’m very lucky to be interviewing J.K. Hogan, author of Shadows Fall.

Hi J.K., thank you for agreeing to this interview. Tell us a little about yourself, your background, and your current book.

 

Hey, there! IRL I’m a pretty normal gal, wife and mother and fur-mommy. I stay at home with my son and alternate between writing and graphic design.

            I started out writing m/f paranormal romance—I have a series of three books if anyone is so inclined—but I started writing exclusively m/m in the last couple of years. I just have more fun doing it.

            My new release, Shadows Fall, is one I’m super excited about. It’s my first true thriller and I’m in love with the subgenre. This book has so many different elements, it was almost impossible to categorize—crime drama, police procedural, a paranormal element, a tiny bit of sci-fi, and of course, romance. I’m always my biggest critic, but I think it will keep you on the edge of your seats!

Describe your favorite rainy day activity.

Hmm, well I’m a pretty boring girl when I’m not writing. I like to curl up with my kindle and read, or work on some of my artwork. I’m big on taking the time to relax when I can, because between the writing, graphic design, and a toddler, my life gets pretty busy!

Thank you, J K, and I wish you the very best of luck with your new release.

~

Author Bio:
J.K. Hogan has been telling stories for as long as she can remember, beginning with writing cast lists and storylines for her toys growing up. When she finally decided to put pen to paper, magic happened. She is greatly inspired by all kinds of music and often creates a “soundtrack” for her stories as she writes them. J.K. is hoping to one day have a little something for everyone, so she’s branched out from m/f paranormal romance and added m/m contemporary romance. Who knows what’s next?

J.K. resides in North Carolina, where she was born and raised. A true southern girl at heart, she lives in the country with her husband and young son, a cat, and two champion agility dogs. If she isn’t on the agility field, J.K. can often be found chasing waterfalls in the mountains with her husband, or down in front at a blues concert. In addition to writing, she enjoys training and competing in dog sports, spending time with her large southern family, camping, boating and, of course, reading! For more information, please visitwww.jkhogan.com.

Where to find the author:
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/OfficialJKHogan
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JK_Hogan
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/jkhoganbooks/
Tumblr: http://officialjkhogan.tumblr.com/
Google+: https://plus.google.com/+JKHogan/
Instagram: http://instagram.com/jkhoganbooks

Blurb:
A gift—or curse—gives Titus McGinty the unwanted ability to talk to ghosts. When he starts seeing the same few apparitions repeatedly, appearing with similar gruesome injuries, he begins to wonder what they want from him.

Detective Charlie Hale has a serial killer on his hands. On the loose for weeks, the Queen City Slayer has left the police nothing to go on, no forensic evidence other than what he wants found. The city is running out of time.

The crisis brings Titus and Charlie together—Titus stumbles upon a body and finds himself a suspect. Their budding romance is tested as they are sucked into a web of underground laboratories, restive spirits, and religious fanaticism. They’ll have to work together to find the identity of the killer before he takes his next victim…Titus.

Tour Dates: June 17, 2015

Tour Stops:

Parker Williams, BFD Book Blog, Molly Lolly, Bayou Book Junkie, Love Bytes, Charley Descoteaux, Bike Book Reviews, Inked Rainbow Reads, Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews, Iyana Jenna, Cate Ashwood, Romance the Night, Rainbow Gold Reviews, Wake Up Your Wild Side, Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words, Book Reviews and More by Kathy, Divine Magazine, Havan Fellows, Kimi-Chan, Hearts on Fire, Carly’s Book Reviews, MM Good Book Reviews, 3 Chicks After Dark, Fallen Angel Reviews, Amanda C. Stone, Andrew Q. Gordon, The Hat Party, Elin Gregory, Nephylim, Velvet Panic

Rafflecopter Prize: A ecopy of Shadows Fall – Click Here to Enter

 

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d9af7-disappearwithme2bfull2bsizI am happy to announce that the Second Edition of Disappear With Me is available from Amber Quill Press!

Blurb:

Love is greater than hope or faith, but can Reverend Leander Norris convince a jury that the love he shares with another man is natural?

In 1910, the United Kingdom was in turmoil. King Edward died after only nine years on the throne. The social class system that upheld British society for centuries was being chipped away by social, political, and economic unrest across the Commonwealth. Amidst this backdrop, Reverend Leander Norris is accused of sodomy. After discovering his own self-worth and unconditional love, Leander finds the courage to stand up for what he believes is right and pleads not guilty to the charges. Throughout the trial, Leander’s past is revealed, including the temptations that bring the accusations against him. By the end of the trail, Leander is once again reunited with a romantic interest from the past, but it may be too late to rekindle any love that might remain, given the circumstances of the era and Leander’s likely sentence.

Excerpt:

“Are you not a scholar?” Weeks asked. “Do you not know the Bible that you preach from each Sunday?”

“I know it very well,” Leander answered. “But the Bible has many interpretations. I think you can guess that mine might be a little less than conventional.”

Weeks reclined back in his chair. He made a steeple with his fingers and rested them on his pursed lips. “You’re actually sitting here telling me that, as a man of God, you’re all right with buggery and feel you’ve done nothing wrong?”

“Mr. Weeks, do you realize you keep asking me the same question over again, using different words?”

“As your counsel, I need to be sure that I understand your position, the one you expect me to defend.”

“You sound shocked that I would suggest such a thing. I can’t have you defending me if you don’t believe it yourself.”

“Reverend, my beliefs about the situation are irrelevant; it doesn’t matter what I believe. I need to be able to defend our position in court and hope our defense can refute what the prosecution will present.”

“I have to have conviction in my sermons each Sunday morning. I think you also know you need to have conviction when defending your clients.”

“And I can assure you that I have that same conviction to make sure that you receive a fair trial. I will do my best—”

“Do your best to what? Go through the motions and make sure that the I’s are dotted and the T’s are crossed so it looks like I’ve been given a good defense?”

Weeks didn’t answer and that was all the answer that Leander needed. After a moment, Weeks tried to start again. “Look, Reverend, I am your assigned counsel for this trial. I am on your side. I want to see you get a fair trial, but you must understand what we’re up against is quite overwhelming.”

“I know; I’ve never done anything the simple way.”

“Sir, you must understand that we are going up against laws that are rooted in two thousand years of Christian tradition and about as many years of British attitude.”

“Mr. Weeks, do you love your wife?”

Weeks let out an impatient sigh. “Of course, but here you go asking intimate questions about me that have no bearing on my defending your case.”

“Humor me, sir. Do you love your wife?”

“Yes, I very much love my wife and family.”

“What if you woke up tomorrow and a constable showed up on your doorstep and arrested you because they said the love you share with your wife was illegal?”

Weeks didn’t answer him. Instead, in a quiet voice, he said, “You know you and I are just two people. We’re not going to change these laws overnight.”

Buy Links:

Amber Quill Press

All Romance eBooks

OmniLit

Search “Disappear With Me” or “Dean Pace-Frech” on your other favorite sites to purchase romance books, Amazon, Barnes and Nobles, iTunes, etc.

About Dean Pace-Frech

New bw headshotWith inspiration from historical tourism sites, the love of reading, and a desire to write a novel, Dean started crafting his debut novel, A Place to Call Their Own, in 2008. After four years of writing and polishing the manuscript, it was accepted and originally published 2013. His second novel, Disappear With Me, set in Edwardian England was published later that same year. Both novels were re-released in May 2015.

Dean lives in Kansas City, Missouri with his husband, Thomas (legally as of February 14, 2015), and our two cats. They are involved in their church and enjoy watching movies, outdoor activities in the warmer weather and spending time together with friends and family. In addition to writing, Dean’s hobbies include reading and patio gardening.

Dean is currently working a standalone title, Need Your Love, set in 1966, and The Higher Law, a continuation of the story of Frank and Gregory’s family set in the 1930s.

Connect with Dean Pace-Frech

Email deanfrech@aol.com

Blog:  Dean’s Web Site

Facebook:  Dean Pace-Frech, Author page or send a friend request Dean Pace-Frech.

Twitter: @deanpacefrech

Google+: +deanpacefrech

Goodreads: Dean Pace-Frech

Pinterest:  Dean Pace-Frech

 

Giveaway:

In celebration of the wide release of Disappear With Me, I will be giving away 3 Ecopies of my first novel, A Place to Call Their Own, which is available from JMS Books.  Comment, follow me on Twitter, visit my author page, etc. to enter.

Click here to enter this Rafflecopter giveaway.

 

 

 

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About the Book

Title: Letters From A Cowboy

Series: Morning Report

Author: Sue Brown

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Cover Artist: Garrett Leigh

Length: 154 Pages

Release Date: 10 June, 2015

Blurb: A Morning Report Story

Simon Wood arrives at Tamar Ranch looking for a job after being fired from his last position for seducing the boss’s son. It doesn’t take much for him to prove his skills with horses, so he’s taken on, but soon he clashes hard with Chip Henson.

The animosity between them hides something very different, but not for long. No matter how hard they try to resist their attraction, eventually they give in to their need. They start leaving notes for each other, and others notice and warn them to be more careful.

Fearful of discovery, Simon leaves Tamar Ranch to save Chip’s job. When he learns that his departure sent Chip off the rails, he knows he needs to risk everything and go back for him.

Excerpt

HE WAITED an hour by the mill before Chip showed. The cowboy slid off his horse and into Simon’s waiting arms, his hat tumbling off his head as Simon held on to him tightly. Simon pulled him into the shadow of the mill, pleased that he could finally bury his chilly face in Chip’s neck, his nostrils full of the strong, rich scent of his man.

LettersfromaCowboyLG“I thought you weren’t coming,” he managed eventually. “Didn’t know if you’d get my note.”

“I nearly didn’t,” Chip said. “Lorne and Brad were waiting for me with rifles before I left.”

“How did you get away?”

“Lofty and I jumped them and knocked ’em both out before they could shoot me.”

Chip shuddered with the emotion, and Simon hung on even tighter, aware of just how close he’d come to losing him.

“I love you, Henson,” Simon said gruffly, feeling Chip dig his fingers almost painfully into Simon’s back. Simon relished the pain. It reminded him they were both still alive.

“Love you too, Woody.”

Simon huffed into Chip’s neck at the nickname. “Next time we go together.”

Chip pulled back to look at him. “Don’t be stupid. We can’t take that risk.”

“I’m not leaving you again,” Simon insisted stubbornly.

Chip stepped back and slid his hands down Simon’s shoulders to grasp him around the upper arms. “Don’t, Simon. You know we can’t risk anyone finding out about us. I only just escaped this time. Next time it could be you, and I can’t have that.”

Simon stared at Chip, seeing the lines around his brown eyes, carved deeper into Chip’s face in the year he’d known him. “And I’m not gonna to spend my life wondering if you’re goin’ to turn up. We can’t be together as lovers, but we can be together as friends.”

“What are you saying?”

“If keeping us safe means we stop fucking, then….”

Chip pressed his lips together, then gave a short nod. “Friends.”

Simon went to step away, but somehow he ended up with his mouth mashed against Chip’s, his hands tangled in Chip’s hair, and Chip’s erection a rigid line pressing into his hip.

The throaty noises Chip made as they kissed just ramped up his excitement.

Simon growled deep in his throat and pushed Chip against the mill wall. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much.”

“Missed you too.” Chip hauled Simon down to kiss him again.

“No lube,” Simon groaned.

“Ya got spit.” Chip’s hands were busy at Simon’s flies.

“It’s gonna hurt.” Simon was just as busy, dragging Chip’s jeans down his legs.

“Don’t care, not now. Just want you.” Chip turned in Simon’s arms and placed his hands against the rough wall.

Simon pulled Chip’s ass toward him, bare and beautiful, and all his. He ran his work-roughened hand over the tight asscheek. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Chip laughed roughly. “You need to see the doc, Woody. I ain’t beautiful.”

“You are to me. You’ll always be more beautiful than any of them painted whores in the Drink.”

“Thanks, I think.” Chip gasped as Simon spat on his fingers. “Hurry.”

Simon held Chip’s shoulder and slowly worked his fingers into Chip’s ass. “Just you wait. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He withdrew his fingers and spat on them again. He worked Chip until he was as prepared as he could get him.

Chip smacked the wall as Simon pushed in.

God, he was so tight. Simon wanted to ram in until he couldn’t go any farther, but he wouldn’t hurt Chip. “Too much?”

“Faster,” Chip gritted out. “I’m not gonna break.”

Chip might not, but Simon felt he was about to fly apart at the seams. He sank into Chip’s heat until he could rest against Chip’s back. He breathed across Chip’s ear, feeling the man shiver.

“Don’t let me go,” Chip whispered.

Simon held him tighter. “I’m never gonna let you go.”

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

Simon needed to move, but for a moment he just wanted to stay exactly where he was, Chip’s body tight around him and Simon’s senses full of his man.

 

Buy Links

DREAMSPINNER PRESS

AMAZON

ALL ROMANCE EBOOKS

 

About the Author

Author picSue Brown is owned by her dog and two children. When she isn’t following their orders, she can be found plotting at her laptop. In fact she hides so she can plot and has gotten expert at ignoring the orders.

Sue discovered M/M erotica at the time she woke up to find two men kissing on her favorite television series. The series was boring; the kissing was not. She may be late to the party, but she’s made up for it since, writing fan fiction until she was brave enough to venture out into the world of original fiction.

AUTHOR LINKS

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/suebrownstories

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/SueBrownsStories

Twitter: https://twitter.com/suebrownstories

Google+: https://plus.google.com/+SueBrownstories/

Blog: http://suebrownsstories.blogspot.co.uk/

Website: http://www.suebrownstories.com/

Email ID: suebrown.stories@gmail.com

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Q&A

Why are Brits so obsessed about American cowboys?

We don’t have proper cowboys in the UK. We have men in white vans who offer to repair roofs and lay driveways. Then they charge five times the price for shoddy work. These are our cowboys. Not the same at all. I like yours better.

Why did Simon’s eye colour change several times in Morning Report?

Um, he’s interesting? He’s a robot in disguise? He’s got disco eyes?

Which newspaper do you prefer to read? 

The Times if its in print. Online I pretty much read every newspaper I can find. I love news from local media. If I’m following a news story I’ll go back to the local source because you get a whole different perspective.

When writing, what – other than your laptop – does your muse demand to have around you?

Coffee. Coffee. Coffee. Coffee.

Narrate the weirdest plot that came to your mind.

Um, I wrote it. The Sky is Dead. That’s all I say.

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Rafflecopter Giveaway

Get a chance to win two signed paperbacks of ‘Letters From A Cowboy’ or a package of Morning Report stories!

Enter the Rafflecopter NOW.

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Tour Schedule

June 10: Love Bytes Reviews || Up All Night, Read All Day

June 11: Molly Lolly: Reader, Reviewer, Lover of Words || Divine Magazine

June 12: Elin Gregory

June 15: Elisa – My reviews and Ramblings

June 16: Multitasking Mommas Book Reviews || Drops of Ink

June 17: Rainbow Gold Reviews || Man2ManTastic

June 18: Gay.Guy.Reading And Friends || Evelyn Shepherd

June 19: MM Good Book Reviews || Wicked Faeries Tales And Reviews

June 22: Foxylutely Books || BFD Book Blog

June 23: Nessa’s Book Reviews || Diverse Reader

June 24: RJ Scott || Nautical Star Books

June 25: Bayou Book Junkie || Prism Book Alliance

June 26: Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words

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A Place to Call Their Own Spotlight Post

I am happy to announce that the Second Edition of A Place to Call Their Own is available from JMS Books, LLC and other online retailers.

Blurb

Frank Greerson and Gregory Young have been discharged from the Army and are headed to their childhood homes. They both defied their parents in 1861 when they joined the Army. After battling southern rebels and preserving the Union of the United States of America, the two men set out to battle the Kansas Prairie and build a life together. Once they find their claim, they encounter common obstacles to life on the Kansas Prairie in 1866:  Native Americans, tornadoes, wild animals, and weather.

When a prairie fire destroys their crops and takes their neighbor’s lives, Frank and Gregory are instructed to find their young son’s aunt. Faced with leaving a destroyed claim, the railroad coming through their land, and dwindling funds, Frank and Gregory must decide whether to leave the place they have worked hard to make their own or fulfill their friends’ dying wishes.

Sales Links:

JMS Books     Amazon US   Amazon UK

Excerpt:

“You two together, or…” Mr. McAvoy asked with a puzzled look on his face.

Mrs. McAvoy raised an eyebrow, also curious about the situation.

Gregory gave Frank a nervous and mischievous look and answered, “Ah, yes, sir. We planned to each get a claim and build one house for now, help each other out.”

The answer seemed to satisfy both Mr. and Mrs. McAvoy. “That sounds like a good idea. It’d be nice to have a few neighbors around to help with things once in a while. And what I wouldn’t give to have had just one other man to help me with some of the house building and stable. You stay around here, and you’ll need a stable. Wolves and coyotes will get your livestock if you don’t.”

“How did you protect yourself before? This stuff doesn’t get built in a day.” Gregory asked.

“It takes ’em a while to figure out you’re here. And of course, it’s worse in the winter than this time of year. They haven’t been quite so bad the last few weeks, have they?” he directed to his wife.

“No, they calmed down. Hopefully they’ve been preying on the deer that are eating my potato plants.” answered Mrs. McAvoy. “You two want to stay for supper? I’ve got a big pot of rabbit stew on the stove.”

“It’ll be good, I promise. She’s done great cooking whatever I can find for us,” Mr. McAvoy added.

Gregory ignored the invitation. “How’s the hunting around here? You do good during the winter months?”

“Yeah, in the fall it’s the best—the animals are all fat and sassy from the summer. You can tell the bucks from the does, and you don’t have to worry about orphaning a young deer like you do now. There are plenty of rabbits and prairie chickens right now. You can find squirrels…”

“And the meadowlarks do fine, too, in a pinch,” piped in Mrs. McAvoy. “Now, what about supper?”

“We appreciate the offer, ma’am,” Frank spoke up. “But we’re just trying to find us our claims and be done with traveling. We’ve been traveling nearly six weeks now. It has been that long since we had a decent home-cooked meal, but we need to keep moving on today.”

They both remembered the last time they joined anyone for dinner. The McAvoys seemed harmless, but Frank and Gregory were both a bit shy about joining anyone else at this point.

“Yeah, we’re getting close to where we want to settle,” Gregory added. “We appreciate the offer and all, but we just want to keep moving.”

Mrs. McAvoy smiled, turned, and ran into the house with her load of laundry. Neither Frank nor Gregory knew if she was hurt because they declined the supper invitation or just needed to get back to her household chores.

“We understand that. Took us nearly six months to get here from New York, where we come from. We stayed with some relatives along the way, but the missus did appreciate it when we finally stopped here.”

“Well, we appreciate your hospitality and all your help. We should probably get going,” Frank said, glancing at Gregory.

“If you happen to end up around here, don’t be strangers. Just let us know where you’re at,” Mr. McAvoy replied.

“It’s a deal, sir,” Frank said and extended his hand.

Mr. McAvoy walked over and took it. After they were done, McAvoy stepped away from the wagon.

Gregory slapped the reins and yelled “giddyap,” and the horses sprang forward.

A frantic Mrs. McAvoy yelled from inside the house, “Wait!”

Frank grabbed Gregory’s arm to stop him. Gregory pulled back on the reins.

Mrs. McAvoy came out of the cabin with a small basket covered with flour sack cloth.

“This here isn’t much, but maybe it will allow you to rest once you stop for the night. I put two crocks of my stew in there and part of the bread I baked for our supper tonight. I don’t know why I did it, but something told me to make extra bread today.”

“We’re mighty obliged, ma’am. This will help. Now we don’t have to worry about hunting anything for our dinner. We’ll just warm this by the fire and be ready to go,” Gregory spoke up.

“Yes, ma’am. We are getting a bit worn out by this trip,” Frank said. He grinned at Gregory and said, “Hopefully, we’ll be finding our home soon.”

Both men tipped their hats once more, and Gregory got the horses going again.

Dove and Daisy lumbered along for the rest of the afternoon and into the early evening. Before they realized it, the wagon climbed a gentle, gradual grade. The early evening sun blinded them as they reached the crest of the ridge. At the top, Frank looked over his shoulder where the wagon had just been. There he saw the trail left by the wagon and horses in the prairie grass. To the west, a line of trees indicated a creek, river, or some sort of waterway. The sun drenched the entire landscape in its golden hue. He looked at Gregory, and they both knew this was their new home. They had arrived on the homestead.

“Welcome home, Frankie!” Gregory yelled at the top of his lungs.

~

Giveaway:

In celebration of the release of A Place to Call Their Own, I am giving away a copy of my novel, Disappear With Me.

Enter the competition by clicking HERE

About Dean Pace-Frech

New bw headshotWith inspiration from historical tourism sites, the love of reading, and a desire to write a novel, Dean started crafting his debut novel, A Place to Call Their Own, in 2008. After four years of writing and polishing the manuscript, it was accepted and originally published 2013. His second novel, Disappear With Me, set in Edwardian England was published later that same year. Both novels were re-released in May 2015.

Dean lives in Kansas City, Missouri with his husband, Thomas (legally as of February 14, 2015), and their two cats. They are involved in their church and enjoy watching movies, outdoor activities in the warmer weather and spending time together with friends and family. In addition to writing, Dean’s hobbies include reading and patio gardening.

Dean is currently working a standalone title, Need Your Love, set in 1966, and The Higher Law, a continuation of the story of Frank and Gregory’s family set in the 1930s.

Connect with Dean Pace-Frech

Email deanfrech@aol.com

Blog:  Dean’s Web Site

Facebook:  Dean Pace-Frech, Author page or send a friend request Dean Pace-Frech.

Twitter: @deanpacefrech

Google+: +deanpacefrech

Goodreads: Dean Pace-Frech

Pinterest:  Dean Pace-Frech

 

 

 

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Willem of the Tafel by Hans M. Hirschi

Willem of the Tafel by

Hans M. Hirschi

Published by

Beaten Track Publishing

Genres: Adventure, Fantasy, LGBT, Post-Dystopian, Young Adult

194 pages

Release Date: May 28, 2015

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The world we know is gone, destroyed by greed and ignorance. On a post-apocalyptic Earth, centuries into the future, few have survived the Great War. Some have taken refuge deep inside a mountain. One of them, Willem, is exiled to the surface… Alone and struggling to survive, Willem embarks on an epic journey, making a discovery that could once again alter the future of humanity. Willem of the Tafel is an epic tale of survival, second chances, hope and undying love.

Willem-of-the-tafel-divider

Check out the trailer for Willem of the Tafel

Excerpt

“Good morning, Willem. Will you take us to your people today?”
With that question, all activity around the fire ceased, and everyone stared at Willem, standing in front of them. After the events of the night before they were all very eager to learn more about Willem and his kind, as unlikely as they seemed to be.
“I can take you to the gate, but I seriously doubt that we’ll be able to make any kind of contact,” Willem stated factually. “When they cast me out, and I discovered that the world above was healed, I tried to go back, but the gate was locked and no one answered my calls. I have no idea what I could do to get their attention. They live so far underground, unless someone is in the tunnel behind the gate, they’ll never hear what’s going on outside. And besides, I’m not allowed to return in the next ten years which, in Tafel society, is the equivalent of the death penalty. No one has ever returned from visits to the surface, and I doubt the council expected me to last this long. I’m fairly sure they thought I’d be dead within hours.”

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AUTHOR SHOP/BEATEN TRACK SHOP/AMAZON
B&N/KOBO/INDIGO/ALIBRIS/iBOOKS/GOODREADS

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Follow the Willem of the Tafel Virtual book tour here

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author-hans-hirschi

Hans M Hirschi (b. 1967) has been writing stories ever since he was a child. Adulthood and the demands of corporate life efficiently put an end to his fictional writing for over twenty years.
A global executive in training and channel development, Hans has traveled the world and had previously published non-fictional titles.

The birth of his son and the subsequent parental leave provided him with the opportunity to unleash his creative writing once again. With little influence over his brain’s creative workings, he indulges it, going with the flow.

A deeply rooted passion for, faith in a better world, in love, tolerance and diversity are a red thread throughout both his creative and non-fictional work. His novels might best be described as “literary romance, engaging characters and relevant stories that won’t leave you untouched, but hopeful.”

Hans is a proud member of the Swedish Writers’ Union and the Writers’ Center in Sweden.

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Willem-of-the-tafel-giveaway

The giveaway for Willem of the Tafel has 11 randomly chosen winners; 10 will receive $15 Gift codes to the author’s shop, but the grand prize winner will receive a free ticket to GayRomLit retreat 2015, in San Diego, CA, happening October 15-18th, 2015. Ticket value is $175, but if you win the grand prize, you’re responsible for travel and accommodations. Please notify the author in advance should you win and be unable to attend, so we can choose another recipient to enjoy the prize!

Good luck and happy reading and winning!
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Willem of the Tafel Tour brought to you by…

Happy-Geek-Media

Happy Geek Media

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Author Name: Larry Benjamin

Book Name: Vampire Rising

Release Date: Summer, 2015

Publisher: Beaten Track Publishing

Cover Artist: Natasha Snow

Pages or Words: 67 pages

Categories: Fantasy, Gay Fiction, M/M Romance, Urban Fantasy

Vampire Rising

Blurb:

It’s the mid twenty-first century. Anti-Semitism, racism, sexism and homophobia have been consigned to the dustbin of history. The world is run by “the state,” and Christian zealots, whose chief governing tools are fear and oppression. It’s a wonderful time to be alive—unless you’re a Vampire. Vampires are despised, and feared, and subjected to discrimination and unspeakable violence.

Considered undead, unholy, without basic human rights, Gatsby Calloway lives on the fringes of society, avoiding humanity. Until he meets Barnabas, a young encaustic painter.

When Barnabas is mortally wounded during an anti-Vampire attack, Gatsby must forget everything he has known, and learn to trust.

Excerpt:

“This here coming up is the stop for Chicksand Street,” the bus driver called out.

Barnabas stood and walked to the front of the bus. He peered out the windshield into the dark, then looked at the driver. “The schedule said you stopped at Chicksand Street,” Barnabas said.

“Not after dark I don’t,” the driver shot back. “This here is as far as I’m going tonight!”

Barnabas shrugged and moved to the door. The Mexican woman he’d noticed earlier touched his arm. As he turned to her, she drew a silver crucifix attached to rosary beads from around her neck and, muttering a prayer in Spanish, pressed it into his hands. He closed his hand around the offering still warm from her bosom and said, “Thank you.”

The bus slowed and the driver said, “This here road, about a mile on, becomes Chicksand Street.” He opened the door, barely stopping long enough for Barnabas to disembark. As soon as his feet touched the curb, the driver closed the door and sped away as fast as the bus’ ancient diesel engine would allow. As the bus passed him he saw the passengers with their foreheads and palms pressed against the windows, their eyes wide, and their mouths forming tiny “O”s of fright.

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About the Book

Hidden WolfTitle: The Hidden Wolf

Series: Sapphire Ranch Wolves – Book Two

Author: Sue Brown

Publisher: Love Lane Books

Cover Artist: Meredith Russell

Length: 32,700 words

Release Date: 22nd May, 2015

Blurb: Sheriff Milo Clarke has met his mate, Eli Watkins, and now they’re conducting a long distance relationship while Eli runs Cavalry, the security firm protecting Joe and Cal at the Sapphire Ranch from the hunters.

The long distance loving is hard on all three of them, Eli, Clarke and Clarke’s wolf, who is becoming more restless as Clarke refuses to shift. When Clarke going to give into the other side of him and how will Clarke and Eli resolve the distance between their lives?

Excerpt

Milo and Eli traded kisses as they sat on the stoop at Sapphire Ranch, soft sloppy kisses without heat, just content to be together. They had little to do for an hour before supper except relax and enjoy each other’s company.

“We spend more time here than at my place,” Milo said. He traced Eli’s lips with his thumb.

Eli kissed the pad of Milo’s thumb. “This is the pack house.”

“We’re a pack now?” Milo was surprised Eli had made that connection. Pack was everything to werewolves but the humans that he knew didn’t have the same sense of extended family.

“Aren’t we? Joe and Cal, you and me? A small pack and with humans, but we are a pack.”

 

Buy Links

Love Lane Bookshttps://www.lovelanebooks.co.uk/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=7&products_id=83&zenid=ae17b9c4db224b1081ceedcd2dbffcb7

Amazonhttp://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00Y0NKLAC/

All Romance eBookshttps://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-thehiddenwolf-1813555-153.html
 

About the Author

Author picSue Brown is owned by her dog and two children. When she isn’t following their orders, she can be found plotting at her laptop. In fact she hides so she can plot and has gotten expert at ignoring the orders.

Sue discovered M/M erotica at the time she woke up to find two men kissing on her favorite television series. The series was boring; the kissing was not. She may be late to the party, but she’s made up for it since, writing fan fiction until she was brave enough to venture out into the world of original fiction.

AUTHOR LINKS

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/suebrownstories

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/SueBrownsStories

Twitter: https://twitter.com/suebrownstories

Google+: https://plus.google.com/+SueBrownstories/

Blog: http://suebrownsstories.blogspot.co.uk/

Website: http://www.suebrownstories.com/

Email ID: suebrown.stories@gmail.com

 

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May 25: Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words || RJ Scott

May 26: Elisa – My reviews and Ramblings || Wicked Faeries Tales & Reviews

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Author Name: Charley Descoteaux

Book Name: The Pinch of the Game

Release Date: June 24, 2015

Categories: Contemporary, Gay fictions, M/M Romance, Mystery, Paranormal, Romance

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Cover Artist: AngstyG

Blurb:

Being a witch doesn’t mean one can beat the devil forever.

Jeffrey Overton, unemployed IT professional turned poker player, pushes his luck once too often and runs afoul of the host of an illegal card club. The man sent to escort Jeffrey to a “meeting” about his supernatural winning streak arrives at Jeffrey’s crappy North Portland apartment, lock-picking tools in hand and a charm to block Jeffrey’s magick.

Head muscle for said host, Mike Wells, is a Daisy from Daisyville. He isn’t a witch. What he lacks in magickal talent he makes up for in brawn, so he doesn’t expect the guy he’s after to overpower him. But once Mike renders Jeffrey helpless, he’d rather seduce him than bring him in.

Jeffrey and Michael ditch the “meeting” and end up hunting some of the same people they ran from, trying to get Jeffrey back into his own body. And that’s only part of the adventure. The pair travel halfway across the country on the quietest road trip in history and find missing people, empire-building witches, and maybe even the families they’d both thought lost to them.

Full information on release day – June 24th

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Author Name: N.R. Walker

Book Name: Cronin’s Key II

Release Date: May 22, 2015

Pages or Words: 59,300 words

Categories: Fantasy, M/M Romance, Paranormal, Science Fiction

Publisher: N.R. Walker

Cover Artist: Sara York

 

Blurb:

History isn’t always what it seems.

With the battle of Egypt behind them, Alec and Cronin are enjoying the thrill of new love. Though fate doesn’t wait long before throwing them back into the world of weird.

They know Alec’s blood is special, though its true purpose still eludes them. And given Alec’s inability to be changed into a vampire, Cronin is free to drink from him at will. But the ramifications of drinking such powerful blood starts a ripple effect.

With the help of Jorge, a disturbing vampire-child with the gift of foresight, Alec and Cronin face a new kind of war. This time their investigations lead them to the borders of China and Mongolia—but it’s not what lies in the pits beneath that worries Alec.

It’s the creator behind it all.

In the underground depths of China, amidst a war with the Terracotta Army, they will find out just what the Key is, and what Alec means to the vampire world.

Excerpt :

Alec sat on the sofa with his feet on the coffee table reading the New York Times on an iPad. He’d look up every so often at the apartment, at Cronin’s walls of memorabilia, smiling at the antiques shelved there, then at the vampire beside him.

“What’s so funny?” Cronin asked. He didn’t even look up from the Chinese newspaper he was reading, though a smile played at his lips.

“I was just looking over all your relics,” Alec explained. Cronin had told him about most of the artifacts he’d collected, and despite their conversations starting with good intentions, they usually ended up in the bedroom. Or on the sofa, or on the floor, or over the dining table. “I mean, those antiques are pretty cool, but you’re my favorite.”

Cronin looked up at Alec then. “Your favorite antique?”

“Well.” Alec’s grin widened. “You are a 744 vintage. I think you qualify.”

Cronin smiled, amused. “And you’re a what?”

Alec imitated the guy from Antiques Roadshow. “A contemporary piece, 1980s Americana. Perfect condition, well-endowed.”

Cronin laughed at that. “You’re bored.”

“Ugh.” Alec groaned and let his head fall back on the sofa. “So bored.”

He’d spent the last eight weeks holed up in Cronin’s lavish New York City apartment. His days, which were now fully nighttime hours, consisted of a workout regime—Cronin had installed gym equipment in the cinema room to curb Alec’s boredom—hours of foreplay and sex, the occasional movie on Netflix, and reading and researching vampire histories. He rarely left the apartment.

The view was spectacular, and if he wanted something—anything—he could simply order it, pay for it with Cronin’s black credit card, and have it delivered. But he was still confined to quarters. Meaning he was still wanted by NYPD, his former colleagues no less, though the hype had died down.

The fact that his and Cronin’s disappearing acts, which had been caught on CCTV—once in his department’s office area and once in the department’s stores facility—had been leaked on YouTube, meant Alec’s relatively quiet and unnoticed disappearance had gone global.

The footage went viral, making news headlines around the world and him an internet sensation. Some called it a hoax and disregarded what was just too impossible to understand, and others called it what it was.

Quantum leaping.

Cronin’s ability to appear anywhere in the world—or leaping as they called it—was, in Alec’s opinion, the best talent a vampire could have. And it was awesome. Not that they really went anywhere these last eight weeks.

It still wasn’t a great idea for Alec to be seen in public, and Cronin couldn’t go out in the sunlight. That limited their outings to faraway places, wherever it was night.

Alec sighed and went over to the shelves lined with Cronin’s memorabilia. He had wanted to know about all the items Cronin thought important enough to collect over the last twelve hundred years. As a vampire, Cronin had seen things Alec couldn’t begin to imagine, and he wanted to know as much as he could. He’d asked about most of them, but went to one display that held three items he’d not gotten to yet. Alec put his hand out, almost touching the artifact. “Can I touch it?”

Cronin now stood beside him. “Of course,” he answered with a smile.

Alec carefully picked up the small, crudely glazed bottle, admiring it as he turned it in his hands. It was whitish-brown and looked like a child had made it in school art class “What about this one?”

“That is a Mayan poison bottle.”

Alec blinked. “Oh.” He changed how he was holding it, as though it would now bite.

Cronin smiled. “The year was 821. Jodis and I went there and were ill-received. Can’t imagine why.”

Alec laughed and rolled his eyes. “No, I can’t imagine why either.”

“A witch-doctor offered us a drink,” Cronin said, nodding toward the bottle. “Courteous fellow.”

“Well, it would have been rude to refuse,” Alec added sarcastically.

“Yes, quite.” Cronin said, amused. “In the end, he drank it himself rather than see his end with one of us.”

“And this one?” Alec picked up what looked like a bone knife.

“Ah, that’s a Peruvian weaver’s bone wand.”

“Of course it is.”

Cronin chuckled. “It’s from 1288. An old woman stabbed me with it.”

Alec’s mouth fell open. “She what?”

“She stabbed me, only barely.” Cronin was still smiling. “Eiji and Jodis thought it funny that an elderly human woman could do such a thing. She was no taller than four foot.”

“I hope you killed her.”

Cronin barked out a laugh. “Uh, no. Her heart gave out before I had the chance.”

Alec turned back to the shelves and picked up a long metal pin with a jeweled end. It looked expensive. “And this?”

“That is a seventeenth century French shawl pin,” Cronin said, almost wistfully. “A man tried to stab me with it. I believe it belonged to his wife.”

“What is it with you and being stabbed?”

Cronin sniffed indignantly. “It must be my charming personality.”

Alec snorted. “If by charming personality you mean vampire about to kill them, then yes, I think so too.” But the truth was, Alec knew from years of police work that stabbing was an intimate crime; the offender was well within the other person’s personal space. He frowned. “I don’t like the idea of you being close enough to bite someone else. Or that you have your mouth on their skin… or your teeth.”

Cronin took the shawl pin from Alec and put it back on the shelf. “It doesn’t bother you that I kill people, only that I have my lips on them when I bite them?”

Alec looked to the floor and nodded. “You get close, you touch them, you put your lips on them,” he said. He knew he was pouting, but he couldn’t seem to stop. “It’s not fair.”

Cronin put his finger under Alec’s chin and lifted his face so he could see his eyes. “It is not the same.”

“I know,” Alec said petulantly. He knew he was being unreasonable. He craned his neck, exposing it to Cronin. Alec knew there were vampire puncture wounds marking his skin, and he loved them. He wore them with pride. “I like it when your lips are on my neck, when you bite me. When you drink from me.”

Cronin leaned in and ran his nose along the bite wounds. “Do I not take enough from you?”

“Never,” Alec whispered.

Cronin licked the two bruised hole marks, making Alec shiver. “Do I not bite you enough?”

“Never.” Alec was getting dizzy with want. He had to remind himself to breathe. He leaned against Cronin, feeling the strength and warmth of him from his thighs to his neck. He was already getting hard. “It will never be enough.”

Cronin kissed Alec’s neck once more but pulled away. “I can’t keep feeding from you. It can’t be good for you.”

Alec chuckled. “It is really good for me.”

This time Cronin laughed, a purr rumbled through his chest. “You test my restraint, yet again. Please know, Alec, I’m not opposed to such a notion. Though the hours spent in bed this morning may suggest you need a rest. Just because I can bite you without changing you, doesn’t mean you are unaffected.”

Alec groaned. They’d found out after the battle in Egypt that Cronin could bite Alec and not change him into a vampire. It opened a whole world of questions, but more than that, it meant they could have sex while Alec was human. And yes, as much as he wanted Cronin to take him, fuck him, and bite him, his human body needed recuperation. The intense sexual pleasure and slight blood loss took its toll when it was for hours at a time. So as much as he didn’t like it, he knew Cronin was right.

But Cronin also had a warped sense of time. Living for twelve hundred years would do that, Alec conceded. So while Cronin was patient and content to sit and read or research for hours upon hours, Alec was restless for something else beyond that, some sense of normalcy. He was used to police work, and now he sat around doing a whole lot of nothing. Even though he’d left normal behind the day he’d met Cronin, the vampire he was fated to, he was still a twenty-nine-year-old man. He needed to do something human. He grinned at Cronin. “Come on, let’s go out.”

Cronin quirked an eyebrow. “Where to?”

“A club somewhere.”

“I meant in which city.”

“Oh.” Alec was thinking some nightclub in the Meatpacking District would do. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to being able to leap to any country he chose. He grinned. “Well, it’s night time in Europe. I’ve always wanted to go to London.”

Cronin smiled. “I know just the place.”

* * * *

It took Alec a second to get his bearings. Leaving a warm and well-lit apartment and landing in a cold, dark alley in the time it took to blink was disorienting. He was used to the pain of leaping now. The feeling of being pixelated and shredded at the cellular level was expected, but he knew it was only momentary.

The cold air blasted him regardless, and he shivered against Cronin. Cronin took his hand and led him down the alley, out onto the street.

Alec noticed the cars first. The steering wheel was on the wrong side of the car, the cars were on the wrong side of the road. He looked down the neon-lit street, hearing the foreign accents around him as they passed Londoners having a night out. It made him grin.

Cronin walked up to a nightclub door, ignoring the waiting line-up of hopefuls. The bouncers gave him a nod, and Cronin pulled Alec through the doors with him. “Known around here, I take it?”

Cronin looked over his shoulder and smiled at him, giving Alec a glimpse of his vampire fangs. “This establishment is owned by a friend.”

Okay then. A vampire nightclub. Alec had no clue what he was walking into, yet he felt no fear. He was with Cronin, after all.

Cronin was an elder of the US East Coast, well-known and well-respected. A healthy dose of well feared didn’t hurt his reputation either.

The room was packed and pumping, the floor filled with dancers and drinkers. It was dark inside like most nightclubs Alec had been in, but he could still see that most of the people inside were human. They seemed blissfully ignorant of the company they kept. Alec guessed it kept in line with the vampire law of anonymity, though he did wonder how many of these unknowing humans wouldn’t see morning.

As if Cronin could read his mind, he leaned in close and whispered over the loud music, “No one can be harmed here. It would bring too much attention to the owners. It is simply a business owned by one of our kind.” Cronin pulled back, his dark eyes black, his normally rust colored hair tinted blue from the neon light above. “Drink?”

Alec nodded and Cronin led the way to the bar. Cronin stared for a beat too long at some guy who was leaning against the bar by himself before he nodded and called him by name. “Lars.”

Alec wanted to ask what was up with Lars—he was obviously a vampire—but before he had the chance, a voice came from behind them. “Cronin.”

Cronin smiled before he’d even turned around. “Kennard.”

Alec recognized the man as the elder of the London coven. He’d spoken to him via a video call when they were planning their attack in Egypt two months ago. Kennard was young in human years, no more than twenty. He was shorter than Alec imagined, with a slim build outlined by his fitted jacket with the collar upturned, perfectly styled blond hair, pale skin, and pink lips. He was boyish in looks, but there was a ferociousness lurking under the innocent façade. Alec thought that was what made him even more frightening.

“And Alec!” Kennard said, his eyes lighting up delightedly. He took Alec’s hand. “An absolute pleasure to meet you in person.”

Cronin made a point of looking at Kennard’s hand on Alec’s and feigned a snarl. It was hardly menacing, considering he did it with a smile.

“Oh, hush,” Kennard waved Cronin off. “You’ve been hiding him away for weeks now.” Kennard smiled up at Alec. Kennard’s flair and inflection reminded Alec of an over-acted Shakespeare play, and given Kennard was indeed a London elder, Alec wondered how far wrong he was on when exactly Kennard was human. “So, the hero of Egypt? No wonder you’re fated to Cronin. Only someone rather remarkable would be a match for him.”

Alec wasn’t sure what to make of Kennard. “Um….”

Cronin laughed and took Alec’s hand out of Kennard’s. “Ignore him. He’s an insatiable flirt,” he said, smiling warmly at his English friend. “But yes, Alec was very brave and clever.”

“You forgot handsome and good in bed,” Alec added.

Cronin blushed and Kennard clapped his hands as he laughed. “Oh, how I like you.” Then Kennard gave the barman a nod, “Get my friend here whatever he wants.”

Alec ordered a scotch and lime water, rather thankful he didn’t have to pay, because the only money he had was American dollars.

They followed Kennard through the crowd, up a few stairs, to a booth on a platform. It was clearly Kennard’s table, where he could sit and watch over his club. It also gave them privacy to speak freely without fear of being overheard by human ears. When they were seated, Kennard was still smiling at Alec. “So, the key is still human,” he said. “I have to say Cronin, I’m surprised.”

“Yeah well, about that,” Alec said, sipping his drink. “I can’t be changed. Not for the lack of trying.” He craned his neck slightly so his jacket slid down his neck, knowing Kennard would see the bite marks.

Kennard’s eyes shot to Cronin’s, and he sucked back a breath. “What is the meaning of this?”

“We don’t know,” Cronin said, his arm sliding protectively around Alec’s shoulders. “His blood is… special. It’s what made him the key to defeating Keket in Egypt—he resurrected a mummified vampire with his blood alone,” Cronin said. “Though our seer says his work is not yet done.”

Kennard’s eyes narrowed, but he shook it off and schooled his features with a smile. He looked again at Alec’s neck. “Well, if any one of us were fortunate enough to have the best of both worlds, Cronin, it would be you.”

Alec finished his drink, Kennard waved his hand, and not a moment later another full drink was on the table. “Thank you,” Alec said. “And thank you for helping us in Egypt. I’m glad I got to thank you in person.”

“It is I who should be thanking you,” Kennard said. “It’s not every day we get to meet and talk with a key.”

Alec was beginning to hate that word.

Maybe he wouldn’t hate it so much if he knew what it fucking meant.

Kennard was still obviously shocked. “Yet you can bite him and he remains human?”

Alec swore he heard a rush of whispers from the edges of the crowd. The vampires in the club clearly heard what Kennard said. Cronin let out a low growl. Kennard raised a hand dismissively and the whispers stopped. Cronin’s growl lowered but took a while to fade completely.

Kennard laughed. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about biting here, no?”

Cronin’s reply was low and final. “No.”

Kennard changed the subject of conversation. “How’s Eiji? Is he getting better?”

“All but healed,” Cronin answered. Word had spread quickly that Eiji had survived exposure to sunlight in saving Alec’s life. “He and Jodis are in Japan while he convalesces.”

Alec finished his drink, and a third appeared in front of him. He was already a little buzzed, so he sipped his next drink and scanned the floor while Cronin and Kennard talked of vampire matters. It was all rather political, and Alec was too busy checking out the dance floor to pay any attention. He wasn’t one to dance often, but in the end, it got the better of him. Alec downed his drink and stood up. “I’m gonna hit the dance floor,” he said.

Cronin started to object, naturally, but Kennard put his hand on Cronin’s arm. “Ah, Cronin,” Alec heard Kennard say. “Let him dance while we talk business. No need for the three of us to be bored senseless.”

Not caring they had company, Alec leaned down and kissed Cronin soundly before going back down the stairs and making his way through a sea of people. They were a mix of men and women, and from the lingering, knowing looks by some of them, Alec knew they were a solid mix of human and vampire.

Alec didn’t care. He let his head fall back and closed his eyes, feeling the bass of the music in his chest. It felt good to be doing something so normal, so human. He knew Cronin never took his eyes off him, and once upon a time that would’ve annoyed Alec. He’d have forbidden such possessive behavior, but now he reveled in it. He craved being owned by Cronin, as much as Cronin longed to be owned by him.

Being fated was a beautiful thing.

Alec couldn’t believe he’d once tried to rebuke the idea.

A warm body pressed a little too close, making Alec open his eyes. He knew it had to be some human—no vampire in the club would be stupid enough to approach another vampire’s mate, and Cronin’s mate no less. It was a guy who smiled at him, but before he could even speak, Cronin was in between them, staring at the now-pale human man until he backed away.

Alec pulled himself against Cronin’s ass and laughed. “Jealousy looks good on you.”

“We must leave,” Cronin said.

“He didn’t mean anything by it,” Alec started to say.

But Cronin had Alec’s hand and was leading him to what Alec realized was the back way to the fire escape. “No, we must go. Now.”

Alec knew from Cronin’s tone something was wrong. He tried to clear his head. “What happened?”

“It’s not what has happened,” Cronin said as he pushed through the back door into an alley where Kennard stood waiting. “It’s what’s going to happen.”

Alec had no sooner stepped into the alley, than Cronin looked around and checked that the three of them were alone. He put his arm around Alec, pulled him close, put his hand on Kennard’s shoulder, and they leapt.

About the author:

N.R. Walker is an Australian author, who loves her genre of gay romance. She loves writing and spends far too much time doing it, but wouldn’t have it any other way. She is many things; a mother, a wife, a sister, a writer. She has pretty, pretty boys who live in her head, who don’t let her sleep at night unless she gives them life with words. She likes it when they do dirty, dirty things…but likes it even more when they fall in love. She used to think having people in her head talking to her was weird, until one day she happened across other writers who told her it was normal. She’s been writing ever since…

 

Where to find the author:

 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100003907957620

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/N.R.WalkerAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/NR_Walker

Website:  http://nrwalker.wordpress.com/

 

Goodreads Link:


Tour Dates & Stops: May 22, 2015

Parker Williams ~ Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words ~ Molly Lolly ~ Inked Rainbow Reads ~ BFD Book Blog ~, Bayou Book Junkie ~ Multitasking Mommas ~ Rainbow Gold Reviews ~ Carly’s Book Reviews ~ My Fiction Nook ~ Full Moon Dreaming ~ Sinfully Addicted to All Male Romance ~ Cate Ashwood ~ MM Good Book Reviews ~ Velvet Panic ~ Mikky’s World of Books ~ It’s Raining Men ~ Michael Mandrake ~ Elin Gregory ~ Chris McHart ~ Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents

 

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The Eye of the Beholder banner

The Eye of the Beholder

Release Date: April 29, 2015

Publisher: Wilde City Press

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Length: 103,000 words

Blurb

Final cover artVince Voss is obsessed with physical beauty. Influenced by his aunt, with whom he runs a modeling business, he has become unfeeling and cruel. Vince’s mother, who was a witch in life, returns to show him a better way to live. She casts a spell to take away his good looks and he finds himself challenged with searching for someone to love him, without the use of physical attraction.

Vince eventually meets a lonely male vampire, Peter, and despite his reluctance to get involved with him, he decides to use Peter to help him lift the spell. Little does he that at first, Peter is using him too, and he finally realizes what’s really important when he falls for Peter along the way.

Excerpt

Vince realized he had no problem kissing a boy. He liked Peter, and he was definitely attracted to him. Vince’s body had already begun to react again, even though there was, as yet, no passion in the kiss. His cock filled, lengthening against his thigh, and he resisted the urge to adjust it with his free hand. Instead he slid his arm around Peter, but he resisted and pulled away. Vince opened his eyes in surprise and watched Peter shuffle around and change position. He faced the back of the sofa and settled himself across Vince’s legs so they could reach each other more comfortably. Peter laid a hand over Vince’s heart, and its beat increased. Their lips reconnected, and Vince melted into it. He slid both arms around Peter and deepened the caress until his tongue was in Peter’s mouth, teasing and exploring.

Peter responded heatedly. Soft moans and whimpers came from him as he crushed his lips against Vince’s and stroked his chest. Vince felt Peter’s icy touch on his skin and realized Peter had unbuttoned his shirt without him noticing. Vince shivered and trembled in response. His cock was painfully hard, straining against his fly. He struggled to breathe through his nose as the kiss continued, their tongues thrusting against each other within Peter’s mouth, almost in an imitation of fucking. Vince groaned as the thought put an image in his head—Peter’s pale body beneath Vince, their clothes gone. It was the farthest Vince had allowed his imagination to go, yet the idea didn’t shock him, only thrilled him. Vince changed position, still holding Peter but pushing him off his legs. Vince stretched out along the sofa so that they lay together, never once breaking the kiss.

Peter was as hard as Vince. Vince felt it as their lower bodies touched. Peter continued to stroke his hand over Vince’s chest, pausing occasionally to circle one nipple, then the other, until the small nubs hardened in response to the unaccustomed—and chilly—touch. Peter’s erection, reasonably free inside his loose trousers, repeatedly bumped against Vince. Vince realized Peter was gyrating his hips, trying to rub himself against Vince’s thigh without being too obvious about it. Vince pulled his head back, gasping for breath, and met Peter’s eyes. Once again, they’d darkened with arousal. Vince’s head spun, and he blinked rapidly.

“I thought you wanted to take things slow?”

“I can’t help it. I’ve never felt like this,” Peter whispered.

“Nor have I.” The dizzy, drunken feeling was suddenly more unpleasant than puzzling, and Vince heard rushing in his ears. His mouth was dry, and his heart raced so frantically he wondered if he could be suffering from the onset of some kind of attack. His cock was impossibly hard, painfully so, and the rest of his body was racked with shivers. “Fuck, I don’t feel so good.” The words sounded slurred, and Vince closed his eyes as Peter’s face whirled in front of him.

“Shit. Vince, look at me.” Peter slid off the sofa, knelt beside it, and touched his face. “Vince!”

Vince forced his heavy eyelids up and instantly lowered them again, fearing he might throw up. He heard Peter’s voice faintly through the rushing in his ears. The vampire uttered a string of expletives, interspersed with “I’m sorry” over and over. Peter laid a cold hand on Vince’s forehead, and Vince took deep breaths, hoping he wouldn’t lose consciousness. What the hell is happening to me?

“God, I’m so sorry,” Peter said more clearly. He had removed his hand from Vince’s face, and Vince risked another look at him. Vince’s heartbeat had slowed, and the room no longer spun around him. He blinked and focused on Peter’s face.

“What happened? Did I pass out or something?”

“No. I’m sorry,” Peter said again.

“What for?”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes, I think so.” Vince pushed himself up a little and rubbed a hand over his face. “Why do you keep saying you’re sorry?”

“I just… I have to go.” In a second, Peter was gone. Vince didn’t have to go to his bedroom to know that Peter had already slipped out of the window and vanished. Vince stayed where he was, accompanied only by the sounds from the TV.

“What the fuck was that?” Vince muttered.

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Author Bio

Louise Lyons comes from a family of writers. Her mother has a number of poems published in poetry anthologies, her aunt wrote poems for the church, and her grandmother sparked her inspiration with tales of fantasy. Louise first ventured into writing short stories at the grand old age of eight, mostly about little girls and ponies. She branched into romance in her teens, and MM romance a few years later, but none of her work saw the light of day until she discovered FanFiction in her late twenties.

Posting stories based on some of her favorite movies, provoked a surprisingly positive response from readers. This gave Louise the confidence to submit some of her work to publishers, and made her take her writing “hobby” more seriously.

Louise lives in the UK, about an hour north of London, with a mad Dobermann, and a collection of tropical fish and tarantulas. She works in the insurance industry by day, and spends every spare minute writing. She is a keen horse-rider, and loves to run long-distance. Some of her best writing inspiration comes to her, when her feet are pounding the open road. She often races into the house afterward, and grabs pen and paper to make notes.

Louise has always been a bit of a tomboy, and one of her other great loves is cars and motorcycles. Her car and bike are her pride and joy, and she loves to exhibit the car at shows, and take off for long days out on the bike, with no one for company but herself.

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