Friday, February 27, 2015

BOOK BLAST: R. E. Nelson's Palace Dog plus #Giveaway! #MMRomance #Historical




Book Name: Palace Dog
Author Name: R. E. Nelson
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: Paul Richmond
Pages or Words: 206 pages
Categories: Gay Fiction, Historical, M/M Romance


Blurb(s):

In April 1975, as the government in Saigon is falling, Michael Andrews prepares to make his way back to Vietnam to find the love he was forced to leave.

But Michael’s journey begins four years earlier. He joins the Air Force to keep out of the Army and out of Vietnam, but his first assignment is teaching English in Saigon to members of the Vietnamese military in an Army program called Palace Dog.

As an artist, and a man, before his time in Vietnam, Michael found life lonely and unsatisfying. In the midst of war, Michael searches for direction and meaning. He ultimately finds love and hope with Thao, a young Vietnamese art student, only to have their already uncertain future wrenched from them when he is pulled out of the country.

For Michael, his return in 1975 is inevitable and without question, though the outcome he hopes for is anything but assured.

Excerpt:

The cyclo had bumped across the bridge, following the curve in the road, then moved quickly down the final straight stretch, past houses and shops, past rows of trees and walls and occasional open spaces, past vendors who lined the street’s edge selling gasoline in glass bottles. Motorcycles, Lambretta mini-buses packed with people, cream-and-blue Renault taxis, pedestrians with baskets and boxes—all crowded the street. Noises, smells, and smoke came from everywhere, and as the driver increased his speed, I smiled, gripping the metal frame tighter and pushing slightly with my feet as the moist wind rushed around me.

Speeding through the streets of Saigon, wearing the green Air Force-issued jungle fatigues, my life of a year ago seemed unreal.


About the Author: R.E. Nelson was born in Texas and raised in Southern California. He has been writing for as long as he can remember. One of his earliest recollections related to writing is winning an essay contest in sixth grade--something patriotic about the American flag. When he travels, his preference is staying in select areas for an extended period of time and learning about that place. He has lived in both Vietnam (twice, actually) and Saudi Arabia, and also spent time in Egypt, South Korea, Shanghai (his only China visit thus far), and Dubai. Now he is happy to call San Francisco home.

Where to find the R.E.:
Twitter: @RENelson13


How do you relax at the end of a stressful day?  Long shower


Do you have any tattoos? If so, what are they?  No

Tour Dates: February 27, 2015

Tour Stops:


Rafflecopter Prize: E-copy of ‘Palace Dog’ 
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

BOOK BLAST: Lee Brazil's The Librarian plus #giveaway #mmromance


Book Name: The Librarian
Author Name: Lee Brazil
Publisher: Lime Time Press
Cover Artist: Laura Harner
Categories: Contemporary, Romance
Pages or Words: 22,000 Words



Blurb: A rash vow of celibacy puts Valentine Michaels in the path of seduction.

Val is at a crossroads in his life. A college dropout, he's gone as far as he can in his career as a cosmetologist, owning his own style salon. He no longer finds satisfaction in it, though he's put years into proving to his bigoted parents that a college degree and the veneer of straightness aren't the only roads to success. They'd turned their backs on him, and he proved he didn't need them to make it.

His love life is no better than his working life. His relationships always start with a bang and fizzle into boredom, or worse, anger.

Adrian Grey has his own agenda for helping Val: he's been in love with Val since they were freshmen. The intervening years of listening to Val's gossip about his lovers and relationships have taught Adrian just what it was he did wrong all those years ago, and he thinks this time around he now knows exactly how to get—and keep—his man.


Excerpt: Impatiently, Val flipped his powder-blue locks over his shoulder, tapping the little whisk broom against the counter where his supplies were arranged neatly. "Derek, you left me standing around at Paul's for an hour, a place I totally hate by the way, without even a phone call to say you weren't coming, and then I walk past you playing ball in the park with your friends on the way back here. I'm not overreacting!"
He ran a swift eye over his supplies. Scissors, combs, spray bottle with water, gel, mousse. Everything in order. While he prepared his workstation, he listened with half an ear to the deep voice on the other end of the phone, trying to explain or rationalize or whatever, but he wasn't into hearing what Derek had to say. The guy was an immature jerk who put his own wants ahead of everything, even if it meant leaving Val standing in a group of young college kids he barely knew, in a bar he usually avoided like the plague. He'd gone to the party in the first place for Derek. Being stood up while doing something so selfless pissed him off. Just once in a relationship, Val wanted to find a guy who put him first, who loved him more than sports, friends, and all the other temptations the wicked world offered. "Just forget it, Derek. You don't get it. It's not just last night; it's the whole last few months."
More rumbling and babbling in his ear. He ran a dust cloth over the client's chair and then adjusted its height. Prepping his station at the salon was second nature and required little of his attention. Kind of like listening to Derek. Why the fuck do I listen to this shit? Derek had all the emotional understanding of a two-ton truck. Cute as hell, but clueless about what would melt Val's heart. In fact, Derek might accurately be called dense altogether. A little consideration, a romantic gesture or two, would go a long way. Hell, an apology instead of an excuse would probably have gotten him a second chance even this morning. Eh. Who are you kidding? Derek is a symptom, not the illness itself. "Fuck off, Derek. It's over. Do me a favor and lose my number, okay?"
Flipping the phone shut, he shoved it into the pocket of his smock and busied himself cleaning up his workspace. A quick spray of glass cleaner to the mirror, a swipe or two with a rag, and he was done. Done with Derek, done with men, done with romance and love and sex, and fuck it all. He could be celibate. Masturbation didn't count as sex, did it? He'd need something if he wasn't getting any.
About the Author: Somewhere in a small town in up-state New York are a librarian and a second grade teacher to whom I owe my life. That might be a touch dramatic, but it's nevertheless one hundred percent true.
Because they taught me the joy of reading, of escaping into worlds crafted of words.
Have you ever been nine years old and sure of nothing so much as that you don't belong? Looked at the world from behind glasses, and wondered why you don't fit?
Someone hands you a book, and then you turn the page and see… There you are, running from Injun Joe in a dark graveyard; there you are fencing with Athos; there you are…beneath the deep blue sea- marveling at exotic creatures with Captain Nemo.
I found myself between the pages of books, and that is why I write now. It's why I taught English and literature for so many years, and it's why my house contains more pounds of books than furniture.
If I'd had my way, I'd have been a fencer…or a starship captain, or a lawyer, or a detective solving crimes. But instead, I am a writer, and I've come to realize that's the best thing in the world to be, because as a writer, I can be all those things and more.
 If I hadn't learned to value the stories between the pages, who knows what would have happened? Certainly not college…teaching…or writing.



A Little More About the Author: 

Does Lee have any tattoos? If so, what are they?

Lee: No. Needles. No.

What has been the biggest surprise to Lee's life after being published?

Lee: People actually reading, and liking my stories.

Does Lee have any writing quirks that have to be done, or is there anything Lee has to have to write?

Lee: Music. Can't write without it.


Connect with Lee: Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest


Tour Dates: February 24, 2015

Tour Stops:


Friday, February 20, 2015

BOOK BLAST: Nicole Dennis's When In Bloom plus #Giveaway! #MMromance



Book Name: When in Bloom
Southern Charm Series #4 (Best read in order)
Release Date: February 20, 2015
Author Name: Nicole Dennis
Pages or Words: 52,000 words
Publisher: Totally Bound
Cover Artist: Emmy Ellis
Categories: Contemporary, M/M Romance

Blurb(s):
Will the personal challenges of a former Army doctor and a brilliant florist get in the way of a chance at life and love?

Fighting type one diabetes since childhood, Jude Sebastian runs to prove he can live a normal life, until epileptic seizures begin to change his life. Even with Dawson, his medical alert Golden Labrador, at his side, Jude finds daily life difficult. He owns the floral shop Flowers in the Breeze, and designs everything from simple bouquets to elaborate themes for weddings and celebrations.

At the Shore Breeze Clinic, Jude comes across a man clearly suffering with a PTSD episode. A new arrival in the small town, Doctor Elliott Sheffield, a retired Army Ranger doctor, is looking for a second chance after what he saw in the Middle Eastern deserts.

Wanting a normal relationship, Jude tries to deny his disorder, but something is happening. He can’t regulate his sugars and his disorder worsens. When he returns to the clinic, Dawson alerts Jude to an oncoming seizure.

Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes referencing PTSD, seizures and diabetes.


Excerpt:
Cursing under his breath as the sky turned orange with another incoming sandstorm, Dr. Elliott Sheffield hated the situation. Though they’d tried to tie down the damn tent, the ferocious wind tugged the straps, causing openings everywhere to expose the critical care unit to the elements. Why had he ever agreed to come to this desert hell in the Middle East?
After struggling through several storms like this one, he knew the clouds could turn the sky black for at least seven hours. Pushing out the noises of men calling out in pain and fearing for their lives, he concentrated to save the man on the operating table. His hands and forearms were covered in blood as he searched for the damned bleeder in the man’s belly.
“Come on… Come on… Where the fuck are you?”
As the winds howled, Elliott felt the grit of the fine layer of sand digging underneath the scrubs and within any openings of his uniform. Along with the sweat dripping down his nape, the sand mixed with the moisture and aggravated him. Damn stuff could get through any crack and crevice of tent, Humvee or building. This place sucked when it came to performing delicate surgery, but he didn’t have a choice. The soldiers were here. He needed to be nearby to care for them.
“Shit… Got it,” Elliott said and made the necessary stitches to close the nasty bleeder. He scrambled to put the soldier’s innards back in place, flushed everything with saline to cleanse, and stapled the exterior wound. “Cover him up tight. We’ll come back and make it nicer.” He stepped back to let the other physician and nurse finish. He peeled off and tossed the gloves. Removing the sweat-soaked mask, he left the curtained-off operating theater and went back to the main infirmary.
When the blasted Taliban insurgents had overrun the garrison stationed at the American base, Elliott had transferred with most of the surgical team to the Canadian–British combat hospital at the Kandahar airfield.
It wasn’t any better here.
Elliott shoved a weary hand through his hair. He scratched at the heavy bearded growth. Since his boots had hit the sand, he’d adapted to the crazy, never-ending situations, difficult in the best of conditions, but aggravated in the worse. He’d figured out ways to suture and clean some of the most devastating wounds he’d ever seen in his career. He could never get around the constant issue of infection from the damn sand.
“Fucking sand…”
The thump-thump-thump of helicopter blades surrounded them. Everyone within the base knew the meaning behind those blades. It was never good.
“We have incoming patients,” someone called out.
“They’re not friendlies! Take cover!” another soldier shouted as bullets flew through the sand and darkness.
Crouching, riveted as soldiers rushed around, Elliott thought about the patients. He knew their lives were at the most risk, unable to defend themselves. When dark figures invaded the tent, Elliott covered a nearby patient. Several loud blasts blew through the base as bombs went off in rapid succession. He called out when searing heat scored through his shoulder.
Blood and gore rose in front of his mind. Within seconds, all the time it had taken to save these patients was destroyed.
“Doctor…”
“Doctor…”
Elliott blinked. He tasted the fine grit of the sand.
“Doctor…”
“Dr. Sheffield? Are you okay?”
When fingers touched his wounded shoulder, Elliott screamed and pushed back until he hit something hard then plopped his ass on the ground. The intensity knocked Elliott out of the intrusive flashback from his five years spent in Kandahar. He was home in the States. Having left Afghanistan and his ten year military career, he had now lived and worked in Florida for the last nine months.
He lowered himself until his scrub-covered ass hit the floor. He pressed his hands flat on the cool tile of the emergency room to ground himself in reality. He looked around, goggled as other staff fought to save a patient with a vicious belly wound. Two others moved toward him. He held up a hand and hyper focused on the blood-covered blue latex.
“Are you with us, Elliott? Can you rise?” another doctor said in a calming tone.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here.”
“Where were you?”
“Kandahar.”
“Do you know what set you off?”
“Insurgents overran the base and hit the clinic and caused so much destruction among the patients and created more. It was the appearance of the wound. I took care of so many of them. Most were ruined by the fucking sand.” Elliott knocked his head against the wall.
“Easy. Can you stand? I’ll get you back to the lounge.”
“I’m okay, Harry, take care of the patient.” Elliott pushed himself to his feet and stripped the gloves from his hand. He wobbled out of the room and down the hall.
“Dr. Sheffield?” a nurse called.
He held up a hand. “Taking ten.”
“But…”
Something toppled with a harsh clatter. The broken glass caused Elliott to crouch again in a protective corner and cover his head.
“Dr. Sheffield!”
Lost again in the sand, heat and blood, Elliott stayed put in his cover position. What the hell was he doing here in civilian life? He couldn’t avoid the truth of how he suffered from PTSD.
“Dr. Sheffield… Major…”
He lifted his head at the sound of his Army title. Another doctor crouched in front of him. Through the haze of blood and sand within his memory, he almost didn’t recognize the fellow soldier. James was a friend, a psychiatrist and military officer with the Air Force.
“Major, are you with us?”
“Not an attack…” Elliott knew his gaze would be dead and haunted since he saw it so many times in the mirror after one of the dreams woke him.
“No, Major, a tray filled with containers crashed,” James said. “Major, I need you to stand and come with me. We’ll have a chat.”
“Yeah, guess I need to do that,” Elliott said as he looked beyond James. “I kinda lost it there.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time a soldier covered his ass,” James said as he rose.
Elliott followed James, who chose to find someplace quiet and separated from the chaos of the ER.
About the Author:
Ever the quiet one growing up, Nicole Dennis often slid away from reality and curled up with a book to slip into the worlds of her favorite authors. Over the years, she’s created a personal library full of novels filled with dragons, fairies, vampires, shapeshifters of all kinds and romance. Always she returned to romance. Still, there were these characters in her head, worlds wanting to be built on paper, and stories wanting to be told and she began writing them down whether during or after class. She continues to this day. Only recently has it begun to become fruitful, spreading out to let others read and enter her worlds, meet her characters, and see what she sees. No matter what she writes, her stories of romance with their twists of paranormal, fantasy and erotica will always have their Happily Ever Afters.

She currently works in a quiet office in Central Florida, where she also makes her home, and enjoys the down time to slip into her characters and worlds to escape reality from time to time. At home, she becomes human slave to a semi-demonic tortie calico.

Where to find the author:

54 – Cake or pie?  Pie

55 – Dog or cat?   I love both, but Kitty for the win!

60 –What’s your favorite cookie?  Snickerdoodles!

Tour Dates: February 20, 2015

Tour Stops:

Rafflecopter Prize: ‘E-copy of When In Bloom’

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Thursday, February 19, 2015

BOOK BLAST: Jeanne Marcella's Phoenix Embryo plus #giveaway! #mmromance



Book Name: The Phoenix Embryo
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24701805-the-phoenix-embryo
Author Name: Jeanne Marcella
Publisher: Self-Published
Cover Artist: Streetlight Graphics
Categories: Bisexual, Dark Fantasy, Fiction, Gay Fiction, Drama, M/M Romance, Steampunk, For Mature Readers
Pages or Words: 128,000 words



 Blurb: Twelve-and-a-half-year-old Acanthus Breese and his yellow-robed peers have survived without an adult presence for seven years. They’ve scavenged. Endured madness, starvation, and murder after the adults imprisoned and abandoned them without a backward glance. They’ve clawed their way to civilization and questionable sanity at the guidance of one of their own.

Thirteen-year-old Edward Dasheel is a direct descendant of the goddess Staritti and the red phoenix god, Dasheel. Because of Edward’s love and leadership, Acanthus and the other boys know that despite their regretful crime of harming Staritti and driving her away, hope for redemption remains.

Acanthus knows Edward better than anyone; he knows Edward hides dark secrets about their exile, the adults, and specifically about him. So it is terrifying when suddenly the adults return, pushing themselves back into their lives. What do they want after all these years? And why?


Excerpt:  Acanthus danced around in a chaotic circle, waving his arms and pointing out the window. “Dee! He took Minos. He had wings! He flew! Priests! By Staritti, there were adults in Regrets!”

“Shh. Shhh. It’s all right.”

“How can it be all right?” Acanthus yelled. He paced. He prowled. He was helpless. Edward made no move to restrain him. “They throw us away, ignore us, and then pick us off! How much more can we endure? You know we’ll never see Minos again, Dee! We’ll never see him again! Just like all the others!”

“I know,” Edward answered in a helpless, grating whisper.

“Minos didn’t have anyone,” Acanthus said to himself. “No one, for the last seven years. I feel so bad; I could’ve done something. I could’ve been his friend.”

“You can’t blame yourself.”

Horror washed through him. “Yes, I can. This is my fault. I wanted to break something today. I broke Minos.”

Edward put a calming hand to his shoulder. “Dearest, it’s not your fault.”

“We don’t know that for certain. We all should know better by now. All of us. We have to stick together, make sure everyone’s okay.”


Available from: Amazon | Apple/iBooks | Barnes and Noble Nook | Kobo | Smashwords 

About the Author: Jeanne Marcella was born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area. Granted unlimited access to books at a very early age via the library, she quickly acquired a fondness for creating her own stories through word and drawing.

Going against the grain of mainstream top ten fantasy, she writes eccentric, GLBTQ dark fantasy dramas not for the faint of heart.

Currently, she reworks her first novel about half-breed centaurs into a 2nd edition.

Does Jeanne prefer soup or salad? Depends upon the weather, and the mood.

What's Jeanne's favorite type of salad dressing? Ranch.

What's Jeanne's favorite soup? Broccoli potato cheese.

Connect with Jeanne: Blog | Website | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Google+ | Wattpad




Wednesday, February 18, 2015

EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT: Andrew Q. Gordon's The Last Grand Master

The Last Grand Master

~ANDREW Q. GORDON~



TOUR ORGANIZER: 

CREATIVE MINDS PROMOTIONS


PUBLISHER: DSP Publication

SERIES: Champion of the Gods

RELEASE DATE: 10th February 2015

LENGTH: 370 Pages

BLURB: In a war that shook the earth, the six gods of Nendor defeated their brother Neldin, god of evil. For three thousand years, Nendor and the Seven Kingdoms have known peace and prosperity and Neldin's evil was nearly forgotten.

But then Meglar, wizard king of Zargon, unleashes the dark magic of the underworld and creates an army of creatures to carry out his master's will. One by one, the sovereign realms fall as a new war between the gods threatens to engulf Nendor.

Leading the opposition to Meglar is Grand Master Farrell. Young and untried, Farrell carries a secret that could hold the key to defeating Meglar—or it could destroy the world.

Farrell is joined by Nerti, queen of the unicorns and Miceral, an immortal muchari warrior the Six have chosen as Farrell's mate. As Farrell and his new allies make plans to counter Neldin's evil, Meglar forces their hand when he invades a neighboring kingdom. Rushing to help their ally, Farrell and Miceral find themselves in the middle of the battle. Cut off from help, Farrell attempts an untried spell that will either turn the tide or cost he and Miceral their lives.


EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT:


Farrell truly hated Petitioners’ Day. With the threat of Meglar looming every day, trying to pay attention to whatever minor dispute someone brought to him—and they were all trifling—proved difficult. Left to his own devices, he’d rather focus on how to defeat Meglar, finding time to ride with Nerti, and of course more time alone with Miceral.
At the edge of his thoughts, he realized the petitioner had stopped speaking. All eyes focused on him, waiting for a decision. Honorus’s balls! He’d done it again. Fortunately, his first minister knew how to handle this.
“Gentlemen.” Horgon stood up. “Yours is an interesting and unique issue. Prince Farrell and I shall confer and return shortly with a decision.”
In other words, Farrell needs a break from your mindless drivel. Relieved, he joined Horgon, stepping away from the dais.
Horgon placed a hand on his shoulder when they reached the small room behind the chamber. “Normally I’d chide you on the importance of paying attention, but this was particularly painful.”
“Do I need to know the particulars, or can you just tell me what I think?” Farrell shrugged, aware he had taken the lazy path.
Horgon laughed. “Both. The facts are simple; the recitation was painful. Barbik, that’s the petitioner, paid for a space to sell cloth in the Respital Market Square. Part of his agreement stated that no one else be allowed to sell cloth within twenty yards of his stall. Another merchant bribed the manager of the square to let him set up closer to Barbik, hoping to poach customers when he got too busy.”
“So Barbik wants part of his fee back to compensate for the breach.” Farrell didn’t see that as unreasonable.
“Yes, but….” Horgon held up his hand before Farrell could head back. “Hansor, the manager, has done this before. Most times, people don’t complain because it’s too much time away from work to file the petition and come argue the claim. I suggest you refund the entire fee Barbik paid for the last three seasons. That’ll send a message to Hansor that, if he keeps it up, it will pay for others to levy a claim.”
Nodding first, he grinned at his minister. “You’re a tyrant. Where can I get lessons?”
“Never you mind.” Horgon rubbed the top of Farrell’s head. “Let me be the bad guy. Follow my lead, but remember the real punishment is three seasons.”



AUTHOR BIO: Andrew Q. Gordon wrote his first story back when yellow legal pads, ball point pens were common and a Smith Corona correctable typewriter was considered high tech. Adapting with technology, he now takes his MacBook somewhere quiet when he wants to write.

He currently lives in the Washington, D.C. area with his partner of nineteen years, their daughter and dog.  In addition to dodging some very self-important D.C. 'insiders', Andrew uses his commute to catch up on his reading. When not working or writing, he enjoys soccer, high fantasy, baseball and seeing how much coffee he can drink in a day.

AUTHOR LINKS:
Twitter:  @andrewqgordon

TOUR SCHEDULE

2/10 - Cate Ashwood
2/12 - Tali Spencer
2/13 - Shira Anthony
2/16 - M.A. Church
2/19 - RJ Scott
2/20 - Sue Brown

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