Saturday, October 31, 2015

BOOK BLAST: Safety in Numbers by Jessie G. plus #Giveaway! #mmromance



Author Name: Jessie G.
Book Name: Safety In Numbers
Series: Sizzling Miami bk #5
Release Date: October 31, 2015
Pages or Words: 76,000 words
Categories: Gay Fiction, M/M Romance, Romance
Goodreads Link
Publisher: Jessie G. Books
Cover Artist: Andrew Reyna 

“Bros stick together no matter what.”

When Chris and Liam made that promise, they had no idea how important it would become or how it would be tested in the most brutal way. Nine years later, their bond cemented in blood, that relationship is all they have to hold on to.

“No matter what happens, this friendship will be the one constant we can count on.”

When Billy and Owen made that promise, they knew exactly how dangerous the world could be. They survived prison by protecting each other and they survived freedom by holding that promise sacred. Now they want more than just to survive and they want it from the brothers whose bond is as strong as their own.

“We are stronger together than we’ll ever be apart.”

When Owen reaches his breaking point, Chris jumps at the chance to make things right for all of them. With the future in their grasp, will they realize their strength is in their numbers and finally become the family they crave?

Author’s Note: This is NOT a foursome, but the story of two couples that needed to be told together.

Excerpt:

That silence hid a lot from their friends, but Liam knew Chris was plagued with memories far worse than his. That’s why they decided not to celebrate alone this year. Billy and Owen were expected any minute and it was the first time they invited anyone to join them. The anniversary was bittersweet for them and they chose to celebrate it because becoming brothers meant that much to them. “Do you think they’ll find it stupid?”

Chris just shrugged as if it was no skin off his back what they thought and Liam knew that was just bravado. Fact was, they both very much cared what the two men thought. “Liar.”

His brother sighed and dropped his head back. As if shit wasn’t fucked up enough, they fell for two bastards just as fucked up as they were. “I know you’re worried about Owen. The business with Colin is growing out of their control and I’m not sure why he thinks it’s a good thing. Is he trying to prove something? And the middle of the night phone calls from the FTR? He’s looking more and more fragile every day.”

Liam knew he wasn’t stating anything new. What he didn’t know was what Chris intended to do about it. Lately, when it came to Owen, Chris conveyed zero intent and seemed to be waiting for Owen to read him as effortlessly as Liam did. Their brother bond had been forged through blood and he was afraid Chris’s expectations of Owen were unreasonable. “Do you see his face every time he thinks he’s failed to understand you? The weight of it is crushing.”

Instead of regret, all Liam saw was anger in Chris. It wasn’t a common emotion for Chris and Liam could name every time he saw it. The fact that Chris knew what he was capable of if provoked had made him extremely conscious of that emotion and he often went to great lengths to contain it.

Owen was the very definition of insecure. Just the type to inspire Chris’s protective instincts, which Liam knew for a fact Owen did. Hell, he inspired Liam’s protective instincts. Owen was stubborn though and he often distanced himself, keeping things bottled up until they manifested elsewhere. Like in panic attacks that felt like heart attacks, which he also tried to hide. Liam nearly lost it when they found out that Billy was keeping Owen’s secret.

Chris nodded slowly, as if he completely followed Liam’s train of thought and waited for him to connect the dots. And just like that, Liam understood. “You’re pissed because he doesn’t come to you when the panic sets in. That he hides it from you and they hide it from us.”

It made total sense, but he had to wonder if they were expecting too much. After all, they couldn’t call what was going on with either man a relationship. No, they were four fucked up bastards trying to come together in some romanticwhat? Not a foursome, eww…he loved Chris, but yeah, that just wasn’t happening. And Owen wasn’t his type any more than Billy was Chris’s type. But—always with the fucking buts, right?—what was happening was very definitely happening to the four of them, and Liam now had to wonder if that was the problem, because trying to come together was definitely not the same as being together.

Chris shook his head and shifted in his seat. No, he was right. It wasn’t just their brother bond that made it impossible to move forward as two separate couples. Billy and Owen had formed their own unique friendship in prison and were no more likely to move forward without the other one either. “Just once, couldn’t we have done something the easy way?”

The fire door banged open and Liam turned to see Billy and Owen, arms full of brightly wrapped packages, struggling to pull a huge cluster of balloons through the door. It was a shocking contrast to their dark thoughts and so uncharacteristically sweet of both men. Billy caught their surprised stare and yelled, “Is this where the party’s at?”

“It is now.” It might seem silly, but it was exactly what they needed and exactly who they needed it from. Maybe they hadn’t been expecting too much at all. Liam rose to give them a hand and glanced down to see the look of longing in Chris’s eyes and thought maybe it was time they all expected more.

Available from Amazon | All Romance eBooks | KOBO

Meet the author:

Like many readers, the dream of being a writer has been with me a long time. After three decades of trying, I'd begun to doubt. Thanks to social media, I followed my favorite authors hoping to glean some words of wisdom as I pounded out half-formed ideas with alarming regularity. Two repetitive themes emerged: to be a great writer you must read a lot and your butt must be in the chair every day like it's a job. The more you write, the easier it will be to write and the better you will be at writing. I took that advice to heart and write every day. With six published books to date, three series in the works and a full schedule of releases planned for the next two years, it's been amazing to have made this dream my reality.

I am a firm believer in marriage equality, love at first sight, power dynamics and happily ever after. I'm a lover of strong secondary characters and series filled with families, biological or chosen. All are themes you'll find throughout my books.

Where to find the author:

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/JessieGBooks
Facebook Author Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/jessiegbooks/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JessieGBooks
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/jessiegbooks/
TSU: http://www.tsu.co/jessiegbooks
Ello: https://ello.co/jessiegbooks
G+: https://plus.google.com/+Jessiegbooksmm/posts
Tumblr (NSFW): http://jessiegbooks.tumblr.com/
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bhuja1

Tour Dates & Stops:


Rafflecopter Prize: 2-$25 ebook GC (Amazon, B&N, ARE, or KOBO) winner’s choice, as well as 2 signed paperbacks of Safety in Numbers


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BOOK BLAST: Devil's Jawbone by BJ Sheppard plus #Giveaway! #Horror #Gayfiction




Author Name: BJ Sheppard
Book Name: Devil's Jawbone
Release Date: October 31, 2015
Pages or Words: Approximately 50,000 words
Categories: Gay Fiction, Horror
Publisher: BJ Sheppard
Cover Artist: BJ Sheppard
Goodreads Link


Blurb:

As night descends on the town of Devil's Jawbone, no one is safe. The veil between the living and the dead is at its thinnest, and the darkest side of human nature is boiling to the surface. The supernatural and the natural are colliding, and in this sleepy town, the bump in the night is taking human form. Innocence will be lost; the villain will become the victor; spirits will rise and Satan himself will come to town.

In an eerie collection of short speculative fiction, author BJ Sheppard will grab your imagination, bringing new life to the classic campfire tales synonymous with the scariest of occasions. Halloween will never be the same again.

Excerpt:

Janine Richards had been the first to see the body, arriving an hour early to train for that Friday’s track meet. Through the indigo rays of morning, she had expected peace and quiet but instead had been gifted with the body of the football team’s quarterback hanging from the centre bar of the goal post. The police had arrived after her frantic call and all the yellow tape in the world couldn’t stop the student body from stopping to share in the horror, the grief that had blanketed DJ High.
Riley fought his way through the crowd and stopped only when Logan’s body, still hanging one hour after its discovery, swung lazily on a gentle autumn breeze. His stomach lurched and his eyes prickled, yet he couldn’t peel them away.

What, only one day previously, had been a generally happy, albeit momentarily pissed, Logan Greenway was now reduced to a bloating blue-black sac of meat swaying from the goal that Riley himself had scored over several times at practice the night before. The soccer net around his neck had bitten bloodily into his neck, which was pitched at an awkward angle and coated with what looked like thick black paint under the gentle rays of morning sun. Riley fought the urge to run, closed his throat against the violent clench in his stomach that had only occurred before when he was sick, and turned from the body that was once his teammate.

Logan had not been suicidal, that much was the truth. He had been distracted, pissed at Coach for his harsh behavior, but Logan Greenway had been the boy who had it all. Nothing about his life had held a suggestion that things weren’t going exactly the way he wanted.

Riley thought to his own home life, to the secret of his father’s sudden departure that lingered on the tip of his tongue ready to be spilled. Everyone has a secret, he thought, playing nervously with the straps of his rucksack. But what was Logan’s?
It didn’t matter anymore. Logan Greenway was dead. And school was out for the day.

Available from Amazon UK | Amazon US | Amazon CA | Amazon AU | Smashwords

Meet the author:

My name is BJ Sheppard and all at once I found myself an author. Such a strange sensation to actually feel you deserve the thing you had aspired to for many years. After all, all it took was computer access and an inner world that reads like a Sheryl Crow song to pound the keys and translate my crazy ideas onto the page. I feel like I could have business cards printed. Maybe wear a black roll neck and perch my glasses on the tip of my nose. I could drink whisky and smoke a cigar and do all those really stereotypical things I imagine all writers do. Perhaps I could get laid a little more? This is not the end. Nor the beginning. Hell, it isn’t even about me. My boys write themselves; I really don’t have that much say in the matter. As long as my characters need a voice, I have two chubby typing fingers and a need to please— watch this space: there is more to come.

Where to find the author:
Facebook Author Page: www.facebook.com/bjsheppardauthor
Twitter: @bj_sheppard
Blog: bjsheppardathor.weebly.com

Tour Dates & Stops:  October 31, 2015

Rafflecopter Prize: eBook of 'Devil's Jawbone' by BJ Sheppard

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Friday, October 30, 2015

BOOK BLAST: An Erie Halloween by V.L. Locey plus #Giveaway! #Discount! #mmromance #Paranormal




Author Name: V.L. Locey
Book Name: An Erie Halloween
Series: Lake Erie Shifters bk #1
Release Date: October 20, 2013
Pages or Words: 65 pages
Categories: M/M Romance, Paranormal
Goodreads Link
Publisher: Torquere Press

Templeton Reed has been hiding his inner polecat since he was a child. Keeping his animal secreted is hard for a shifter, especially when one is living in a secret community of mystical beings. It`s the wolf shifters that cause Templeton the most trouble with their darned sensitive noses. 

Templeton has a run-in with the Lake Erie pack and their alpha, Mikel Lupei, at the Office for Transmogrification Registration (OTTER). Templeton has a desk job checking registration papers and dealing with wolf shifters is not part of his job description. After that upsetting meeting the meek and mild office worker suddenly finds himself in the center of not only civil unrest among the shifter community, but a violent plan for a coup aimed at rousting Mikel. 

Templeton and Mikel, a skilled tracker of rogue shifters, are soon not only fighting for their lives, they`re also fighting the rigidly archaic rules of their kind, as well as the person responsible for trying to take over Mikel`s pack from the inside. Can this magical odd couple turn a passionate attraction into a full-fledged love affair? 

Excerpt:

As I walked, I rolled odd change around inside my coat pockets. The streets were busy as last minute shoppers ran to get their candy and costumes for the big night tomorrow. Head down and mind running a mile a minute, I never saw the brick wall disguised as a man I ran into. Face into the wind, I never smelled him either. The amber eyes and brindle hair were all that stopped me from either screaming or shifting. Mikel pulled me into a small bookstore. I went along because I really had no choice, but once inside the quaint bookery, I jerked my arm from his grasp. Several patrons glanced at us. Mikel muscled me into a row holding non-fiction and historical. He grabbed a book and opened it, his sharp gaze flitting between me and a fascinating how-to grow-your-own-beets book.

“Is there a reason you abducted me from the street?” I asked, moving back slightly when his big body pressed closer to allow a woman to pass behind him. His proximity was beyond distressing. It was arousing. Now that he had me cornered, there was no getting away from the heady scent that he exuded: Part sin, part warm fur, part earthy pine, wholly distracting.

“I`ve been trying to contact you for days. Why didn`t you return my calls?” he whispered, keeping his big chest plastered to my left arm. My spine was firmly against a bookshelf.

“There are several reasons,” I replied trying to sound snooty but sounding meagerly twitterpated. "One is that our classes don`t mix. . .”


“That`s a paltry reason, Templeton,” Mikel said gruffly, snapping his beet book closed.

“Well, it may be for you, but when one`s boss tells one to keep his distance and – hey!” I grabbed for my glasses when he plucked them off the bridge of my nose. Folding my arms over my pea coat, I glowered at the oaf. There would be no leaping up and down. Those days ended when I left high school. The touch of his fingers on my chin brought out an age-old response. I jerked back hard. The bookcase behind me wobbled dangerously. Mikel dropped his book to steady the shelving unit. My heart was trying to explode through my chest like an alien baby. The lycan inhaled several times then gave me a dark look.

“Calm yourself, Templeton, your odor is growing stronger.”


“Sorry, it`s just this is all too – too much,” I gasped, working to calm myself before the tingling at the base of my spine began. The bells over the front door tinkled melodiously. Soft conversation bounced off the spines of books. Mikel tipped my head back and kissed me. Right there in the middle of the non-fiction. His lips were soft. Sinfully soft. It took my lashes a moment after his mouth left mine to flutter upward. Squinting skyward, I tried to read his face but it was a blur. My glasses were placed back onto my face, albeit crookedly, and then I could see the glow of golden eyes. Oh my . .

Available from Torquere
SAVE 50% by using this code: eriehalloween at checkout.

Meet the author:

V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, two dogs, two cats, a flock of assorted domestic fowl, and three Jersey steers.

When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand. She can also be found online on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and GoodReads.

Where to find the author:

Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/pages/VL-Locey/124405447678452
Twitter- https://twitter.com/vllocey
Pinterest-http://www.pinterest.com/vllocey/
Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5807700.V_L_Locey
My blog- http://thoughtsfromayodelinggoatherder.blogspot.com/
tsú - https://www.tsu.co/vllocey

Tour Dates & Stops: October 30 & 31, 2015


October 30, 2015


31-Oct


Rafflecopter Prize: E-copy of 'An Erie Halloween' by V.L. Locey

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Thursday, October 29, 2015

BOOK BLAST: Enigma by Nephy Hart plus #GIveaway! #mmromance




Author Name: Nephy Hart
Book Name: Enigma
Release Date: Re-release with new cover and general cleaning up
Pages or Words: 98,000 words
Categories: Contemporary, Gay Fiction, M/M Romance
Publisher: Flying with Red Haircrow

Cover Artist: Red Haircrow


Troubled residents come and go at the Care House where River Caulfield is a caregiver, working towards fulfilling his dream of becoming a nurse. When Silver arrives, a patient found on a roadside near death after suffering terrible abuse, River finds his previous personal detachment is compromised. Seeking to help the mysterious and enigmatic young man locked inside his own mind and memories, River finds his professionalism slipping as Silver begins to open up and live again. 

But as their relationship begins to blossom, the roots of Silver's past abuse and the abuser who forced him into such a mental state sends forth new shoots of darkness enveloping them in dangers threatening not only Silver's sanity, but their very lives. With River's devotion and help, will Silver finally be able to break away from his past? The answer lies in the words of a priest, a painting and a long walk through a churchyard harbouring the secrets of the enigma that is Silver.


Excerpt:
Feeling more confident and realising that I have to ‘project a confident and professional air to reassure the resident and help to ease them into the new surrounding and routine that mark their transition from the institutional environment and the radically different routine and environment of a residential setting’, I compose myself.  Yeah, I know, I’m a geek with a photographic memory, although knowing the rules doesn’t necessarily mean I always follow them.
“Silver,” I say softly as I shake him gently by the shoulder.  I wonder how many times he has heard a smirk in the voice that calls him by name.  I know that I have, often enough.
With a sigh the figure in the bed turns over, flinging out an arm with a soft moan.  I freeze.  Fucking hell... I mean what the fuck.... fucking HELL.
He is nothing like I had expected, not that I had really been expecting anything, but with a name like Silver I had kind of expected him to be fair; ash blonde or something.  But he isn’t.  He’s dark, very dark.  His hair is jet black and long, and even tangled and dry as it is; it makes me want to run my fingers through it.  I can imagine myself gently tugging out the knots and running conditioner down the length of it, strand by strand.  It would be soft and silky and....
Shit! And that’s just his hair.  The things I want to do with those lips. Fuck.  Never in my wildest dreams had I ever imagined.... Gods he is beautiful; not just cute like Max, not handsome or pretty or any of the other words used to describe how someone looks; he isn’t even drop dead gorgeous: he is beautiful, simple as.  Lying there with his hair all over the place, his long coal black lashes trembling on his milk white cheeks, one arm thrown out revealing the creamy skin and well defined muscles of his bare shoulders and chest he is a fucking angel... a real, living, breathing, flesh and blood angel.
Gods damn them; they knew.  The bastards knew the effect he would have on me and all the giggling and snickering now make sense.  Shit, I am practically creaming my pants just looking at him.  I shake my head and laugh at myself.  Get a grip, River.  Just keep your mind above your waist and remember that this is a resident, a patient, a sick person who needs you to be strictly professional and... Ah fuck, why did he have to stir right at this moment?  Why did he have to let out that cute little sigh that parts his lips and makes me want to... to...  Shit!!!!
Moving his head from side to side drowsily on the pillow, Silver gives a sleepy little grunty moan thing and yawns showing absolutely perfect white teeth... of course, although I notice that there is a gap right at the back on the bottom.  I don’t know why but that makes me smile; somehow, something that mars that perfection, even to such a slight degree, is a huge relief.
Just when I am managing to get myself under control and have a goofy smile on my face, Silver opens his eyes.  If I had thought that Silver with his eyes closed was beautiful, Silver with his eyes open is... unreal.  At least now I understand why he is called Silver.  His eyes are grey, a strange pale silvery grey with an almost metallic sheen, like mercury.  For a full minute I just stare at him and he stares back.  There is no curiosity in his eyes, no fear, no challenge; no anything.  I have never seen eyes that are so blank.
Quite suddenly it occurs to me that I am staring and really not being very professional at all. I force myself to smile, a tight professional smile and not the goofy grin that is threatening to break out at any moment.
“Hello Silver, my name is River, did you sleep well?”
The silver grey eyes regard me steadily but there is no indication that he has even heard me let alone understood me.  I broaden my smile and try again.
“It’s morning, Silver, time to get up.  Do you need me to help you with that?”
At last there is a reaction, just a tiny shake of the head.  The silver eyes flicker and with a sigh he throws back the quilt and I am blinded.  At least I wish I had gone blind because if I had I wouldn’t have been staring at that body with quite so much raw hunger.  Fuck he is beautiful all over.
Turning away I walk to the chest of drawers, hoping that he had brought some clothes with him.  The first drawer contains pyjamas and I wonder why the hell they hadn’t put any on him last night, although a moment’s reflection supplies the answer: bastard.
Trying to keep my face turned and my eyes well above the waist I hand Silver the pyjamas.
“Can you put these on?”
Without making a sound he takes the clothes from my hands and slips them on.  I have to watch, I just can’t help it.  I don’t know what kind of condition he was in before whatever happened, happened, or when he woke up out of the coma but those physiotherapists have sure done one amazing job over the past six months.  He is slender, even thin, but so well defined that, even through the cotton pyjamas it is possible to see that he is toned to perfection, every muscle group well defined.
Shit, he’s fucking perfect in every way.  And when he starts to walk...
My great grandmother used to be a dancer, way back in the twenties. She was something of a celebrity back then, and I can remember my grandfather talking about her with fierce pride on his face.  When he was a child he used to go to the theatre to watch her practice and perform and he would say that even when she was not on the stage, even when she was just walking down the street, across a room, getting on a train; she was always dancing.  He used to say she ‘walked lightly on the earth’. I have always remembered that phrase - walked lightly on the earth - and I thought I knew what he meant... until now.
Damn those physiotherapists have done a good job, a great job, there isn’t so much as a hint of a limp and he stands very erect with his head up and... walks lightly on the earth. It’s hard to describe, but he flows, hardly making a sound, so lightly that it makes you feel that he wouldn’t make a footprint in snow.
He pauses in the doorway, waiting.  I am staring again.  “Do you dance Silver?” The words just slip out.  I forget that he doesn’t know, that he doesn’t want to know; it’s just that the way he walks makes me think so much of my great grandmother that I am suddenly sure that he must be a dancer too.
Buy the book:




Meet the author:


Nephy Hart was born into a poor mining family in the South Wales Valleys. Until she was 16, the toilet was at the bottom of the garden and the bath hung on the wall. Her refrigerator was a stone slab in the pantry and there was a black lead fireplace in the kitchen. They look lovely in a museum but aren’t so much fun to clean.


Nephy has always been a storyteller. As a child, she’d make up stories for her nieces, nephews and cousin and they’d explore the imaginary worlds she created, in play.


Later in life, Nephy became the storyteller for a re enactment group who travelled widely, giving a taste of life in the Iron Age. As well as having an opportunity to run around hitting people with a sword, she had an opportunity to tell stories of all kinds, sometimes of her own making, to all kinds of people. The criticism was sometimes harsh, especially from the children, but the reward enormous.


It was here she began to appreciate the power of stories and the primal need to hear them. In ancient times, the wandering bard was the only source of news, and the storyteller the heart of the village, keeping the lore and the magic alive. Although much of the magic has been lost, the stories still provide a link to the part of us that still wants to believe that it’s still there, somewhere.


In present times, Nephy lives in a terraced house in the valleys with her son, dog, hamster and two cats. Her daughter has deserted her for the big city, but they’re still close. She’s never been happier since she was made redundant and is able to devote herself entirely to her twin loves of writing and art.


Where to find the author:

Tour Dates & Stops:


Rafflecopter Prize: E-book copies of Enigma 1 and 2




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