Monday, November 30, 2015

BOOK BLAST: Never Too Early: Full Circle by Chris Owen and Tory Temple plus #Giveaway! #Gay #Poly




Author Names: Chris Owen and Tory Temple
Book Name: Never Too Early: Full Circle
Series: Never Too Early bk #3
Book: Three
Series must be read in order
Pages or Words:  78,000 words
Categories: Contemporary, Erotica, Gay Fiction, M/M Romance, Ménage/Poly, Romance, Western/Cowboy
Release Date: November 25, 2015
Publisher: Torquere Press
Cover Artist: Kris Norris

Blurb:


In the final book of the Never Too Early series, cowboys Jake and Tor and firefighters Chance and Tucker have more on their plates than they bargained for. What started out as friendship has developed into strong feelings, and the couples continue to grow and learn about each other. However, adding two and two is more than a simple math problem. Words and emotions can be a dangerous mix, as the four men discover, and jealousy and miscommunication threaten what they've built together.


When two of the four unexpectedly connect, it sends all of them reeling. Pride is bruised and feelings are wounded, although they try desperately to hold themselves together in order to navigate this new territory. The physical distance between them all is both a blessing and a curse. When one of them reveals something that can't be taken back, it threatens the relationships of all four men. How do two separate couples blend themselves to become one unit? The doubts and fears threaten to overwhelm them all, and no one will emerge unscathed.


Excerpt:
Chance was quiet for several minutes. A woodpecker in the front yard tree gave its high-pitched tweeting call before busily getting back to work.


"I definitely was not prepared," he finally said. "And I know Tuck wasn't. I'll have to really sit and talk with him to see what he thinks. I can't decide if us leaving today is a good idea or a shitty one."


"I'll miss you either way," Jake said. "I don't know Tucker well enough to know how long it takes him to think things through, and he might be uncomfortable being here. Which would suck. But you guys leaving and not being here to sort it all out sucks, too."


"There isn't much of a choice," Chance sighed. "Our flight is at two. If I didn't have to attend a meeting at headquarters tomorrow, I'd try and change it. But we -- well, at least I -- need to get home."


"I know." The distance sucked, and the fact that everyone had responsibilities they couldn't shake off was both a good thing and a bad thing. It made for good people, but it made it difficult to handle issues as they came up. "Maybe the four of us can make this morning a good one, and everyone will feel better by the time you leave. Even if things aren't completely settled, maybe they'll be better."


"It'll be better right now if you kiss me like you mean it."


Jake smiled and set his coffee mug aside. "Like I mean it?" He touched Chance's cheek and kissed his mouth softly. "More?"


"More." Chance smiled against Jake's lips and kept his eyes closed.


Jake gave him more, the smiles fading as the kisses deepened and Chance's mug was put down as well. They turned to each other, and Jake would have happily let his coffee go cold if he could stay right where he was for an hour or so.


Chance didn't seem inclined to go anywhere, either. He put both hands on Jake's face and held him gently as he pressed light kisses to Jake's forehead, cheeks, and bridge of his nose before returning to Jake's mouth with a sweep of his tongue and a slight nip. "I'll miss you," he murmured into Jake's ear, then sucked Jake's earlobe into his mouth for a split second.


"One of these days I'll ask you not to go," Jake whispered back. "Someday we'll stay together." Jake had no idea how that would work, but he knew that he wanted it.


Chance pulled back and looked at him, eyes soft. "Maybe someday we'll work it out."


Jake nodded and kissed him again. He was about to say something even more honest and probably embarrassing when the door opened and Tor said, "So, you two don't need more coffee, then?"



Meet the authors:


Tory Temple:
I live in southern California, the land of no seasons. (Is wind a season?) I live with three dogs, two cats, and some tortoises. I'm married to a firefighter, which is great in the sense that some nights I get the TV all to myself, but not so great in the sense that some nights I have to figure out what to do when the washer starts leaking. (Or when there's a bat in the house, which is a thing that happened when he was working.)


Most of my books are centered around the firehouse. When you spend a lot of time around firemen, you write what you know! And what's hotter than a fireman?


Two firemen.


Chris Owen:
I am a writer of gay romances, a lover of dramatic TV and a fan of many things which are bad for me. I don't cook, I do read, I pretend to garden, and I take care of my pets. One of my favorite things is a clean desk; another is a messy desk.


Where to find the authors:


Chris Owen:


Tory Temple:
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/torytemple


Goodreads Links:

Tour Dates & Stops:


Rafflecopter Prize: E-copy of 'Full Circle'



a Rafflecopter giveaway

BOOK BLAST: Magic & Mistletoe by Annabelle Jacobs plus #Giveaway! #Humor #mmromance



Author Name: Annabelle Jacobs
Book Name: Magic & Mistletoe
Release Date: November 30, 2015
Pages or Words: 40,000 words
Categories: Contemporary, Humor, M/M Romance
Publisher: Annabelle Jacobs
Cover Artist: Natasha Snow


Christmas is Harry’s favourite time of the year, but it looks like he’ll be spending it alone. When it comes to the men he fancies, his luck is non-existent. Harry’s nerves always get the better of him—especially when he tries to talk to Andrew, the hot guy downstairs.

Everything changes when Harry meets a mysterious girl in the woods who professes to be a witch. He dismisses her claims, but when odd things start happening to him, he has to reconsider.

Andrew was attracted to Harry from the start, but their awkward encounters put him off. All goes well until Harry opens his mouth—and ruins it with his stupidity and silly comments. When Harry suddenly becomes more relaxed and they have a proper conversation, Andrew realises his first impression was wrong. As the days count down to December 25, they get swept up in the Christmas spirit and their relationship moves faster than either expected.

A little winter magic might have been the push they needed, but Harry worries that when it wears off, he’ll no longer be the man Andrew wants. 

Excerpt:
Harry didn’t need to look behind him to have his suspicions confirmed. The smug expression on Jason’s face said it all. “I hate you,” he whispered.
Jason kicked his shin. “Sit up, smile, and look happy to see him.”
Two minutes later, Andrew was pulling up a chair and setting his drink on the table.
Harry looked at the red takeaway cup topped with a mountain of whipped cream, and grinned. Instead of blurting out the first thing that came to mind—“Are you really gonna drink that?”—because God only knew what would happen this time to make him stop, Harry paused and took a sip of his coffee.
Andrew darted a glance between Harry and Jason, beginning to look uncomfortable, as though he thought he’d interrupted them.
Harry took a deep breath, then gestured at Andrew’s cup. “Is that one of the Christmas specials?” That wasn’t so hard, was it?
He relaxed a little as Andrew smiled at him and settled back in his chair.
“Yeah, it’s the gingerbread latte. I don’t normally indulge, but it’s bloody freezing out there today, and I fancied something delicious and bad for me.” His gaze caught Harry’s and lingered.
A flare of warmth filled Harry’s chest. This was flirting, right? It wasn’t his imagination.
Then Jason opened his big mouth and ruined the moment, saying, “Yeah, I think Kyle has that effect on a lot of people.”
Harry choked on his mouthful of coffee, just managing to swallow it instead of spraying it over the table. He glared daggers at Jason, who feigned innocence.
Andrew glanced over at the counter, then back at Jason, and laughed, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Harry bit his lip in frustration. Why couldn’t he get Andrew to laugh like that?
“Yeah,” Andrew said, “He’s not bad to look at.” Then his gaze slid back to Harry and his smile softened. “Not my type, though.”


Buy the book:


Meet the author:
Annabelle Jacobs lives in the South West of England with her three rowdy children, and two cats.

An avid reader of fantasy herself for many years, Annabelle now spends her days writing her own stories. They're usually either fantasy or paranormal fiction, because she loves building worlds filled with magical creatures, and creating stories full of action and adventure. Her characters may have a tough time of it—fighting enemies and adversity—but they always find love in the end.


Where to find the author:

Tour Dates & Stops:

Rafflecopter Prize: Backlist book from Annabelle Jacobs + $10 Amazon gift card


a Rafflecopter giveaway

INTERVIEW: Mia Kerick plus #Giveaway! #NewAdult #Gayfic


Miss Mia Kerick has visited The Hat Party MANY times over the years and we love when she stops by! <3 To celebrate her newest release, Clean, we're forgoing the traditional Q&A to ask about my favorite subject.... WIENERS! Mia, don your hat, and let's get this party started!



Which of these delightful wieners do you most want to snuggle and why???



I’ve heard the rumors and I’m well aware of what lies hidden beneath a wiener’s kilt. I will not provide a vivid description, though, because Clean is a Young Adult novel. However, I will admit, I have always been attracted to kilted wieners.



Firefighting wieners are heroes in my book. They are strong, brave, faithful, and perseverant, even when the task is hot and exhausting. I have nothing but respect for firefighting wieners.


There is nothing better than an intelligent, detail-oriented wiener detective. They sniff out all of the clues with incredible skill and accuracy, and solve the mystery every time. Major wiener detective fan here!


A wiener in a military uniform is hard to resist. And in every branch of the military—Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines—wieners need and deserve tender, loving care and snuggling because they put their lives on the line for their country.


Raine, my dear friend, you have deliberately asked me a question that is impossible to answer with a single wiener. Lucky for all of us, I have a very large bed and there is plenty of room for all four wieners… and I have enough love and willingness to snuggle to go around.

Raine says: PERFECT answer, Mia <3

~ ~ ~

Author Name: Mia Kerick
Book Name: Clean
Release Date: December 1, 2015
Pages or Words: 289 pages
Categories: Contemporary, Gay Fiction, M/M Romance, New Adult, Romance
Publisher: Cool Dudes Publishing
Cover Artist: Louis C. Harris

High school senior Lanny Keating has it all. A three-sport athlete at Lauserville High School looking at a college football scholarship, with a supportive family, stellar grades, boy band good looks… until the fateful day when it all falls apart.

Seventeen-year-old Trevor Ladd has always been a publicly declared zero and the high school bad-boy. Abandoned by his mother and sexually abused by his legal guardian, Trevor sets his sights on mere survival.

Lanny seeks out Trevor’s companionship to avoid his shattered home life. Unwilling to share their personal experiences of pain, the boys explore ways to escape, leading them into sexual experimentation, and the abuse of illegal drugs and alcohol. Their mutual suffering creates a lasting bond of friendship and love.

When the time finally comes to get clean and sober, or flunk out of high school, only one of the boys will graduate, while the other spirals downward into addiction.

Will Lanny and Trevor find the strength to battle their demons of mind-altering substances as well as emotional vulnerability?

Clean takes the reader on a gritty trip into the real and raw world of teenage substance abuse.

Excerpt:
PROLOGUE

Lanny

Trevor wouldn’t even look at me when I walked over to the gas station this morning to say hi. And Jimmy’s Fuel Stop is like three miles from my house so it took a major effort to walk there, especially since I’ve been feeling like total crap lately. Another one of my shaky human bonds bites the dust. I need to go out and get myself a cat.
“Can’t you see I’m working, Keating?” That was all he said. But I’ve always been good at reading between the lines. I could tell what he was thinking as he stood beside the gas pumps, totally caught up in not looking at me. “Take a hike before you get me fired, loser. Some of us got goals in life....” So I took off before he had a chance to make me feel like I shouldn’t have ever made an appearance on the planet earth. But I still know it would have been better had I never been born...maybe Joelle would still be okay.
It’s Saturday afternoon and nobody’s home. Mom and Dad are probably off at the park with Joelle, sloshing through the wet snow together so she gets her daily exercise. Or maybe they took her to the make- your-own-sundae-place to improve her fine motor skills by sprinkling sweet toppings on big scoops of ice cream. I’m in Mom and Dad’s bathroom, bent in half with my head stuck in the closet, searching the cluttered shelves for anything that will get me high enough to escape. And I mean anything.

That’s when I see the cough syrup. The bottle in front is almost new, and there’s an older bottle of a different brand right behind it, little more than halfway full. Seeing these medicine bottles reminds me of something Chad suggested about a week or two ago— that we should try robo-tripping. He told me that if we drink enough cough syrup, the DXM in it would get us high in a “super blissful, tingling-body-parts way,” which sounded pretty decent to me then and still does now. Not completely surprised I remembered Chad’s exact description of a DXM high, I thank God for this dextromethorphan stuff that suppresses nasty coughs, because it looks like I’m going to find my much-needed buzz after all.
Pleased that I don’t have to resort to sniffing glue from the tube on my father’s basement workbench or huffing my mother’s hairspray—and believe me I came close—I snatch the bottles with a shaky hand. They’re both sticky with the syrup that dripped down the side last time one of the Keating’s had a major head cold accompanied by a hacking cough. Licking my fingers provides me with a hint of the cherry flavor I’m probably going to be barfing up later tonight. But I don’t care. I can’t get through a single day without some help, and by that I don’t mean help from my human friends, seeing as I have none left.
The walk to the shed seems longer than ever. It’s an effort to so much as put one foot in front of the other. I haven’t eaten anything for a full day; I’m sure that’s why I feel like such crap. And it’s not like I want to think about this stuff, but I can’t stop myself. The “stuff” I don’t want to think about is really people. The people I have hurt so much lately because of my bad habits.
This list starts with my little sister Joelle, who I told to “stuff a sock in it” when she asked me to read that goddamned book about a kid going to school—for the zillionth time! “School’s not all it’s cracked up to be, Jo. Stop being so damned excited about it! Those kids are gonna tear you to pieces and won’t even wait until you turn your back to do it!” It hurts too much to remember the expression on her face right after I told her that, so instead I stare beyond the leafless trees into the gray sky and think about my parents.
I’ve hurt Mom and Dad a lot too, because they know I’m sick, they just don’t know exactly what’s wrong with me. And I’m not sure how much they care. Their plates are too full already with Joelle’s problems, I guess.
I glance down at the two bottles of cough medicine dangling from between my fingers and remember Chrissy and Robyn, who I use like toilet paper. They can do way better than me in the study-buddy department.
I trip over a root that crosses my path and fall to my knees, but just as quickly drag myself back to my feet. A stray root isn’t enough to stop me from getting to where I’m going.
I’m almost at the shed now, and I can’t avoid thinking about him any longer. Trevor hates me. He never calls anymore, never asks me to go to the shed to drink some beer and fool around. He just looks at me in the hallway at school with angry disgusted eyes, and tells me every chance he gets “you’re fucking up your life and I’m not gonna let you fuck up mine.”
Trevor Ladd...the ultimate untouchable. If I could’ve made somebody like him want to be with me, I would’ve surely been able to win my parents back. Well, no such luck. I’m more of a zero to Trevor than I ever was...and Mom and Dad still don’t care.
Blew my entire life sky high. Which is where I’ll be soon, if all goes according to plan. I lift each bottle of sticky sweet cough medicine to my lips and kiss them, one by one.
Just the sight of the tiny, beat-up brown shed fills me with an indescribable sense of relief, probably like the feeling of coming home after years at sea. As soon as I push open the door, I see that Trevor isn’t here and I’m illogically disappointed. But Trevor can’t save me from myself. He did his duty; he tried to get me clean, and he got clean in the process.
Way to go, Trevor.
Alone in a frigid shed in the middle of the woods, I’m more than eager to suck down a couple bottles of cough medicine so I can be somewhere else...someone else. A vision of Landon Keating forms in my mind—not Lanny, the student, or Lanny, the athlete, or Lanny, the son and brother—but the near-future version of me when I’m “simultaneously mellow and stimulated,” if the online experiences I’ve read about taking DXM are accurate. Sad truth is, I’ll take just plain disoriented. Any effect will be fine if it whisks me away.
I drop down to the cold floor and without ceremony open one of the small bottles. The cough medicine goes down more easily than I thought.
Cherry-berry-sweet-thick-burning-soothing- pleasure-pain. It doesn’t take too long.
Itchy as hell...belly’s on fire....
“Read to me, Lanny...read it again!
”Can’t feel my legs at all....
“Wishes don’t wash dishes, son.”
Can’t stop barfing.... So sick....
“Take a hike, Keating—you filthy, no-good, loser boozer-druggie!”
Blew it with Trevor...blew it with everybody.
Can’t breathe...need a breath....
Gonna die here alone.

Buy the book:
Amazon UK:  http://amzn.to/1ZBPUEg
Amazon CA:   http://amzn.to/1VRKXCt
Amazon AU:  http://bit.ly/1MyfIfm

Meet the author:
Mia Kerick is the mother of four exceptional children—all named after saints—and five nonpedigreed cats—all named after the next best thing to saints, Boston Red Sox players. Her husband of twenty years has been told by many that he has the patience of Job, but don’t ask Mia about that, as it is a sensitive subject.

Mia focuses her stories on the emotional growth of troubled young men and their relationships, and she believes that sex has a place in a love story, but not until it is firmly established as a love story. As a teen, Mia filled spiral-bound notebooks with romantic tales of tortured heroes (most of whom happened to strongly resemble lead vocalists of 1980s big-hair bands) and stuffed them under her mattress for safekeeping. She is thankful to CoolDudes Publishing, Dreamspinner Press, Harmony Ink Press for providing her with an alternate place to stash her stories.

Mia is proud of her involvement with the Human Rights Campaign and cheers for each and every victory made in the name of marital equality. Her only major regret: never having taken typing or computer class in school, destining her to a life consumed with two-fingered pecking and constant prayer to the Gods of Technology.

Where to find the author:

Website (& Blog): www.miakerick.com
Newsletter Sign Up: http://eepurl.com/bCLWfT

Tour Dates & Stops:

Rafflecopter Prize: $10.00 Amazon gift card

a Rafflecopter giveaway