Tag Archives: m/m erotic romance

Louder Than Words by Siryn Sueng

As I’ve mentioned more than once, I’m one of the co-founders and publishers over at Deep Desires Press, a publishing house for erotica and erotic romance.

When we received Siryn Sueng’s submission of Louder Than Words, I immediately knew we had to publish it. I think I feel a certain kinship with the book, perhaps because, like Derrek, I’m a former teacher who crushes on Starbucks baristas. And, like Alex, I have a communication-related disability (Alex can’t speak and I am hard of hearing).

But, most of all, the reason why I knew we had to publish Louder Than Words was because the banter between Derek and Alex is just so effing cute and awkward that I’m grinning the whole time I’m reading it.

You should definitely check out this book!


Blurb:

Derrek is a local teacher in Clearwater, Florida. He frequents a nearby coffee shop before work every morning, where he finds himself enraptured with a young barista, Alex. But Alex never seems to notice him, even when he’s handing Derrek his morning coffee.

After weeks of hiding in his corner under the pretense of working, Derrek finally gains enough courage to ask Alex on a date. He’s crushed when all he gets for an answer is complete silence. He thinks it’s the end, until he finds out that Alex has a disability that has paralyzed his vocal cords.

Sign language is Alex’s way of communication, and it’s something that Derrek knows little to nothing about. With renewed determination, Derrek asks Alex to teach him sign language. Derrek wants to be able to talk to Alex, to tell him how he really feels, and find out if Alex feels the same.

But more than anything, he longs for a relationship that goes deeper than just words alone.

Louder Than Words is an 18,000-word novella.

Purchase your copy:

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iTunes | Kobo | Smashwords

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Excerpt:

I grabbed a bottle of water and went to the register, where the girl met me with a smile. “Candice” was what her name-tag said. I returned her pleasantries and handed her the bottle of water. As she rang up the total, I looked toward the back of the shop where employees were only allowed. I could see shelves filled with boxes but I didn’t see Alex anywhere.

I cleared my throat and got the courage to ask her where he was. “Uh, is Alex here?”

Candice stared for a moment and then laughed. “Oh, yeah. He’s here, in the back, getting more cups. Did you want to talk to him?” She paused and eyed me as if she knew me. Then she grinned. “You’re the guy from this morning, huh?” she said knowingly, catching me off guard. Had Alex told her about that? The thought had my heart tightening and my face burning with embarrassment.

“Y-yeah … about that—”

“Oh, don’t worry. He didn’t tell me much; just that you surprised him with your rather abrupt confession.” Candice interrupted me and gave me a wolfish grin.

I fiddled with my card and frowned at her. “Can I talk to him please?” I felt a little bad for speaking with a sharp tone, but couldn’t help it. I was annoyed that she was teasing me; as if Bryant didn’t do that enough.

She didn’t seem to care, though, as she walked away with her smile still in place. “Alex!” Her voice rang out in the back and I took a quick glance around the shop to make sure I hadn’t gained too much attention. I turned back to the counter as she came back with Alex in tow; quite literally towing him too, her hand wrapped around his wrist and a happy smile on her face.

“Here you go!” she said with such enthusiasm I was sure her and Bryant were related somehow. She presented Alex to me and he stood there in shock, fidgeting as he looked between her and me.

“Uh … hi,” I said and Candice snickered. I glared at her and she shrugged. It seemed to break the ice and Alex smiled.

“If you need a translator, I can do that for you. He doesn’t talk; he signs,” Candice offered.

“Yeah, I saw that earlier. Um … actually that’s why I wanted to talk to you, uh, speak with you? U-um … sorry. I’m not — anyway. I want to learn. I don’t know a single damn thing about signing, other than like A B C and hi.” I smiled like an idiot as I waved “hi” at him.

Alex’s smile grew and he leaned forward, bracing himself against the computer. He ran his tongue across his lips and I caught sight of a silver bar through the middle. Black bracelets laced his right wrist, the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up to his elbows. His lashes were long and thick, accenting his gorgeous green eyes. Alex’s laugh was raspy, the sound just about gone. The loudest part of it was the hard puff of air, followed by the faintest tone of his voice. He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, pulling the black, sleek strands away from his face and I got a full view of the earrings in his ears; a couple of bars, rings of black and red, a stud, and a pretty, silver cuff.

He was definitely a good-looking man. I pressed on, now that the atmosphere between us wasn’t as tense. I was also distracting myself from that bar in his tongue … damn, was it tantalizing. “So, I was wondering if you could teach me. I’d like to learn.”

Alex played with the end of the black bar that crossed the top of his ear. His smile turned into a playful grin, and if I wasn’t already hooked, I was reeled in then. His hands and fingers weaved in the air forming his answer to me and I stared for a moment, too caught up in his sexy smile to really pay much attention.

“He said that’s fine,” Candice translated for me. “Said he wouldn’t mind teaching you. Especially since that’s not how you say ‘hi’ in sign language.”

Alex looked down, his smile growing, and he laughed again with that sweet soundless rasp, and my chest was tight.


About the Author:

Siryn Sueng is an erotica M/M romance writer. Mostly she writes in the fantasy, paranormal, and even Sci-Fi genres. Louder than Words, though, is her first ever contemporary work. She’s married to her wonderful husband of 13 years, and they have two cute kittens, Anubis and Kida, who drive them crazy almost all the time. Anubis fancies himself the destroyer of the elusive red dot…

Siryn is a lover of games on a wide range of platforms. She plays on the PC, console, and hand-held devices (her 3DS currently). She also plays otome novels on her tablet. Dragon Age, the Fire Emblem series, and the Tale’s series are her favorite games. Japan is where she would love to visit sometime. She’s a huge fan of Japan, including manga and anime. Siryn loves to read, though she’s been writing more than reading as of late. And she has a deep love for dragons. She has a very large collection of dragon statues in her house.

Siryn is also a co-writer with Usagi Kita. Together they write under the name ‘Lilia Blanc’ and have published their first book: King’s Lament.

Follow Siryn Sueng on Twitter: @Siryn_Sueng

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Filed under Deep Desires Press, Hot Books, Uncategorized

NEW RELEASE: THE PRESIDENT AND THE RENTBOY

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The President And The Rentboy

Forbidden Desires
Co-written with Sandra Claire

 

Newly inaugurated as the President of the United States of America, Daniel Grant has a secret. Despite winning a surprise upset election, built on a campaign filled with raucous rallies and an oft-repeated promise to deport illegal immigrants, Daniel is unhappy. While the media loves to speculate about him and his trophy wife, Melanie, the truth is there is no love in their relationship — moreover, as time goes on, Daniel is coming to understand that he prefers men. Itching for some sexual release, a senator discreetly hands him a phone number for Ricky — a rentboy.

Each sexy encounter with this seductive younger man leaves Daniel panting for more. But while his private sex life amps up, so, too, does his public political life, including increasing pressures from his vice-president to deport all illegal immigrants and bring about religious freedom laws so business can discriminate against LGBT customers.

Daniel struggles to balance his personal and public lives, to somehow continue seeing Ricky, despite the intense media scrutiny of everything the president does. Forbidden love is never easy, but it becomes near impossible when Daniel learns that Ricky, the young man he loves and desires so much, is an illegal immigrant from Mexico.

The President And The Rentboy is a 20,000-word novella.

Purchase your copy now:

Amazon | Excitica | Smashwords

Barnes & Noble, iTunes, and Kobo links are coming soon — check out my website for all the current buy links.

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Filed under forbidden desires, The President And The Rentboy

Jonathan Asche – Author Interview

Good morning book-lovers!

Today we have erotic author Jonathan Asche here for an interview. Jonathan’s new book, Dyre, is now available on Amazon.

Please welcome Jonathan Asche!

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Tell us about your new novel, Dyre.

Dyre is the story of Gene Esley, the surviving partner of a successful Atlanta real estate developer. It’s while Gene is staying at his house in the mountains of Ardenville—a fictional stand-in for Asheville, North Carolina—that he meets Dyre. Dyre is the ultimate fantasy man, and the perfect diversion for a rich, middle-aged man who’s wrestling with feelings of loneliness and guilt. The sex is awesome, but things gradually become darker as Gene suspects Dyre may be motivated by more than lust or love. Soon he’s not only questioning his relationship with Dyre, the life he shared with Geoffrey, his late partner, and even his own sanity.

What was your inspiration for Dyre?

The 1969 movie Paranoia was probably the biggest inspiration. In that movie Carroll Baker plays this wealthy widow who’s seduced by a young drifter, played by Lou Castel. Later, the drifter’s sexy sister joins them, and soon the widow’s days are a blur of drugs, alcohol and fucking these scheming siblings. It’s one of my favorite movies and I wanted to put a gay spin on it.

Dyre is your third book – what have you learned or what has changed about your writing or how you approach it over those years?

moneyshots_lgI certainly put a lot more thought into the writing now. When I wrote my first novel, Mindjacker, I approached it as nothing more than a stroke book. That’s not to say I wasn’t concerned about character development or plot, but the story was largely designed to take the reader from one sexual scenario to the next. Then I was at the Saints & Sinners Literary Festival in New Orleans the following year, and I was scheduled to read from Mindjacker, sharing the stage with a more established writers like Dominic Santi. Though I didn’t embarrass myself too badly, I felt so undeserving to be in their company. After that I was determined to approach my writing more seriously, even if I was writing smut. My follow-up novel, Moneyshots, had a far more complex story and the writing was stronger, if I do say so myself. Both Moneyshots and Dyre follow the same rhythms of mainstream thrillers—backed by the steady percussion of explicit, man-on-man action, of course.

How has the business of writing and publishing erotic fiction changed over the years?

Erotic fiction has always been the bastard child of the literary world. Still, in the past someone wanting to write in that genre had a lot more venues in which to publish their work. There were even publishers that specialized in erotica, like Bad Boy Books. I published my first porn short story in 1993, in Torso magazine. For the remainder of the ̓90s and the early ̓oughts I sold stories to various gay skin magazines—Honcho, In Touch for Men, Mandate, Playguy. When I published my first book it got reviewed in one of those magazines and that helped immensely. An ad placed in Advocate Men helped, too.

Then those magazines started going away, so I focused on writing for erotic anthologies like Cleis Press’ Best Gay Erotica series. Writing for the anthologies always seemed a bit more highbrow, and getting accepted in one always made me feel a little more respectable, like I had arrived. Also, the expectations were higher so that really helped push me as a writer. Not that the skin mags would publish any ol’ thing I banged out, but those relied more on formula. That said, I missed the magazine money. Not that anyone writes gay porn to get rich, but to put it in perspective: I could get $150-$200 per story when I wrote for magazines; an erotic anthology usually pays $50-$75.

The options are a lot more limited today, especially if you want to get paid for your work. There are still gay anthologies to contribute to, but not as many as there once were, and publishers targeting the gay market only publish so many erotic titles a year. That leaves self-publishing, which has exploded over the past few years. Today a writer can sell his or her story directly to readers on Amazon, but good luck reaching readers. It’s easy to get lost in the vastness of the internet.

How has the readership changed?

I was surprised at how many women read gay erotica. I’m sure this isn’t a new phenomenon, but it’s an audience that’s a lot more visible now. It makes sense, I suppose, since guys are more likely to seek visual stimulation on the web. Women are more willing to use their imaginations.

mindjacker_lgBut the female audience can be a tough one. When Mindjacker was published in 2003, the initial response was from male readers and the response was largely positive. Over time, I noticed more women were posting reviews of the book online, and their reviews were more critical. More than a couple complained that Mindjacker had too many sex scenes. Too many sex scenes in an erotic novel—I couldn’t wrap my head around that one. Another female reviewer took issue with the main character’s power to possess men’s minds and will them to sexually gratify him, writing that what he was doing was tantamount to rape. While she wasn’t incorrect, I thought she was over-thinking it. I only wanted guys to jack off reading Mindjacker. I certainly wasn’t prepared for it to be reviewed from a feminist perspective.

I think Dyre should have a little broader appeal—at least among those who read gay erotica. There is a much stronger story, and not every chapter is an excuse for a sex scene. That said, while this book has fewer sex scenes than Mindjacker or Moneyshots, some of those sex scenes are a bit more extreme than those in my previous books.

What are the challenges (and rewards) of self-publishing?

The biggest challenge is promoting your work. Just putting your book on Amazon is no guarantee people will read it, so much of my spare time is spent trying to build an audience on social media and think up creative ways to attract potential readers. It’s been quite the learning experience.

Another challenge is all the prep work involved. I had to make things more difficult by creating my own imprint, J. Tom Books, and handling the details involved with that: forming an LLC, getting a business account, building a website. Then there was the matter of editing. I hired someone to edit, of course, but when he returned the edited manuscript I had to fuck with it some more. I was confident that my copy was pretty clean even if the story wasn’t, so I sent the manuscript off for printing. Well, when I got the initial proof copies back from the printer I gave one to my husband and asked him to skim through it for anything that was missed. He caught an error in the first sentence, which I had re-written since it had been professionally edited. The smart thing to do would have been to give the manuscript to my husband first, then turn it over to the pro. That’s the problem with the “smart thing”: it’s so obvious it’s easily overlooked.

But these challenges are also rewarding. When my books were being put out by a small publisher most of the work was falling on me, the author, anyway, so why not eliminate the middle man? I’m a graphic designer by trade, so I knew I could design an attractive cover, as well as format an interior that looked like something put out by an established publishing house. That’s the paperback, mind you. Formatting the digital edition was something else entirely. Nevertheless, I like being in control of the whole process, despite the extra work and my mistakes.

If you could expose one myth about erotic fiction authors, what would it be? And what’s the truth?

That writers of erotic fiction do so because they can’t write. In truth, a lot of mainstream authors have written “dirty” books: Harlan Ellison, Donald Westlake, Iris Owens and Lawrence Block, to name a few. And Anne Rice wrote a series of BDSM-themed books—The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty, Beauty’s Punishment, etcetera—under the pseudonym A. N. Roquelaure.

What’s been the most difficult aspect of writing (either in writing Dyre or in general)?

Finding time to do it!

What’s been the most rewarding experience from writing (either with regards to Dyre or in general)?

I love telling stories. Seeing a story develop from the first chapter to the last is always a thrill. A writer can be as surprised by what develops in writing a book as a reader is reading it. Dyre’s final chapters are nothing like what I initially planned when I was working on the early chapters.

What’s next for you? Another erotic novel? Something else?

While I’ve enjoyed writing erotica, I want to move on to more mainstream genres. I’m returning to the novel I had started writing before I got the idea to write and self-publish Dyre. It’s a serio-comic Southern soap opera that takes a lot of its inspiration from the Mississippi town where I lived when I was in high school. I plan to re-release Moneyshots under the J. Tom Books imprint in the interim.

Wow — lots going on in your writing world! I look forward to seeing how your writing career unfolds!

Thanks for stopping by and sharing about Dyre and about your writing career so far.

dyre_lgDyre is available in both ebook and print at Amazon.

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Pendulum by L.C. Davis

Today I’m thrilled to be hosting LC Davis for his hot book, Pendulum.  It looks like a hot book and LC is doing a giveaway — watch for it at the bottom of the post!


Blurb:

Remus Black is still reeling from an abusive relationship that stripped him of everything — including his desire for love. Now all he wants is a fresh start halfway across the country, but his new roommate is determined to draw him into his strange world of chains, half-naked men and the infamous Lodge, a BDSM club as lavish as it is secretive.

When Remus is entered into the Lodge’s annual Alpha’s Pet contest against his will, he finds himself thrown to the Wolf Pack, the very type of men he needs to avoid. What’s worse is that the wolves immediately label him a submissive, something he swore he would never be again. Things get even stranger when “wolf” turns out to be far more literal than Remus ever imagined. When both the next-in-line for Alpha and his outcast brother claim Remus as their own, the entire pack is thrown into chaos.

Can Remus learn to embrace the power of submission and choose between the brothers before their rivalry tears the pack apart, or will the tension between them unravel his own sordid past?

Buy on Amazon | Add to Goodreads

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Excerpt:

“Oh yeah,” said Arthur, suddenly shifting gears. He flattened the crumpled flier out on the table and leaned over it. “I saw this on the way over, some guy was passing them out at the LGBT center. Total hottie, and I’m talking eight-pack, hotter-than-John Rals hot.

“Hotter than him?” I asked with feigned disbelief. The Hollywood heartthrob had never really been my type. “I don’t know about that.”

“Seriously,” he said earnestly. “Check it out.” He stabbed the paper with his finger right over the line that read “$10,000 Cash Prize.”

The figure certainly drew my attention. I read further and my interest dimmed.

The Lodge Presents the Annual Alpha’s Pet Contest

Only Hot Male Subs Ages 18-30 Need Apply

FRIDAY NIGHT ONLY

11 p.m. – -???

Winner receives access to the Alpha’s Dungeon, a photoshoot for Perfect Pets Magazine and the coveted diamond collar!

“What is this?” I asked warily. “It sounds like a cheesy reality show.”

“It’s this contest the Alphas throw every year,” he explained. “The flier is super cheesy, but the club is totally legit.”

“Who are the Alphas?” I asked, rereading the flier for a trace of an explanation.

“Oh, right. Texas,” he said, as if that explained anything. “The Lodge is this super-exclusive BDSM club and it’s run by this super-secretive society of doms that call themselves the Wolf Pack. The dance floor and a couple of play rooms are open to the public every weekend, but the dungeon is members only.”

“I see,” I lied. My confusion must have been evident because Arthur gave me a knowing grin.

“You can’t be such an innocent farm boy that you’ve never even heard of a dungeon.”

“No,” I said, tucking my hair behind my ear. It was an embarrassing tick I’d never been able to kick. “I know what BDSM is, it’s just that most of the gay clubs in Austin are a bit more mainstream.”

“Well, that sucks. And here I thought it was supposed to be the gay oasis down there. Whatever, you’ll adapt quick. This place is like the campus obsession. Even women are always trying to crash events.”

“BDSM isn’t really my thing,” I admitted, taking a sip from my latte.

“Let me guess, too many shades of bullshit turned you off?” he teased.

I laughed. “No, nothing like that. My ex was just domineering enough for a lifetime, that’s all.”

“Ohh,” he murmured, leaning back in his chair. “I get ya. Dom doesn’t stand for domineering asshole, though. Some guys just don’t know the difference.”

“No,” I agreed. “They don’t. It sounds like fun, though. I hope you win the prize.”

“Me?” he asked, pointing to his chest with wide eyes. “Oh, no. I’m not entering.” He patted his stomach. “This doesn’t oil up well. Besides, they’re looking for a straight-up sub and I’m a switch. I’m sure as hell gonna enjoy the free drinks and eye candy, though.”

I pursed my lips in an attempt to hide my amusement. “Well, maybe the dogs will have a bear cub night soon.”

“Wolves, actually,” he corrected with a wistful sigh. “Everything is pack-themed. It’s crazy hot. The whole place looks like a big cave.”

“That does sound like something,” I conceded. “So, what happens to the winner? Do you have to, you know, get tied up and stuff?”

He thought about it for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know. You get a free membership, but every sub from here to northern Cali drools over the thought of getting some one-on-one time with the Alphas. I’m not sure anyone has ever tried to turn it down.”

“No,” I chuckled. “I’d imagine not.”

“Why?” His grin widened. “You thinking of entering after all?”

I shook my head vehemently and felt a blush creep into my cheeks. “No, just curious. Psych major, remember?”

“Sure,” he said in a disbelieving tone, standing from the table. “It’s a shame, you’d totally win if you entered. I’ll be right back, I’m gonna grab a drink. When I get back, you can tell me more about Texas.”

I smiled and nodded. That would give me some time to come up with my deflections. Then again, I was several thousand miles away from Austin. The chances of anything I told Arthur getting back to Jeff were close to nil.

The obnoxiously blue paper drew my eye and I glanced behind my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t being watched before I picked it up. Ten-thousand dollars. That was a massive sum. It wasn’t nearly what I owed the university, but it might be enough of a down payment to convince them to release my transcripts…

No. That was insanity. Even if I stood a chance in frosty hell at winning their cheesy contest—which I didn’t, no matter what Arthur thought—victory would only put me at the mercy of the Wolves. All signs pointed to them being exactly the type of men I had promised myself I would stay away from.


About LC Davis:

L.C. Davis has been writing since he can remember. He started out jotting down tales about his imaginary friends in spiral notebooks and an old typewriter. Since then, he’s upgraded to a laptop but he still prefers the company of his characters to 3D people most of the time. As a transgender author, L.C. is dedicated to increasing trans visibility in the romance genre one supernatural tale at a time.

When he isn’t watching 90s sitcoms and Sci-Fi with his partner, you can find Lucien attempting to write while his two cats and fluffy lunkhead of a dog vie for his attention.

L.C. enjoys getting feedback from readers and can be contacted on Goodreads or at luciendavisofficial@gmail.com.

Follow L.C. Davis on Twitter: https://twitter.com/LucienCainDavis


Giveaway:

Click here to visit Rafflecopter and enter to win an ebook copy of Pendulum!

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Will & Patrick Meet The Mob (Book Blitz)

Will & Patrick Meet the Mob Banner

Today’s book blitz blog tour brings us Will & Patrick Meet the Mob — the fifth in the Wake Up Married series by Leta Blake and Alice Griffiths. Read on for the blurb, cover, excerpt, and giveaway!


Blurb:

Follow Will & Patrick in this fifth installment of the romantic-comedy serial, Wake Up Married, by best-selling author Leta Blake and newcomer Alice Griffiths!

Patrick has finally accepted that he’s in love with Will, but his newfound determination to do something about that runs up against his father-in-law’s mobster plans. Though just what those plans are have as yet to be determined. As far as Will and Patrick can tell, they consist of blowing through town, wreaking small havoc, and turning the Patterson family’s lives on end.

Will must face the truth about his family before he can fully come to terms with his feelings for Patrick. And Patrick has to decide if this whackadoodle world is something he truly wants to be part of forever.

Episode 5 of 6 in the Wake Up Married serial.

Book/Buy Links

Goodreads | Amazon

Find the entire series on Amazon

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Excerpt:

The next morning, Will’s romantic musings feel like the product of overwrought exhaustion when Patrick wakes up cranky as a cat dunked in water.

“Turn off the alarm,” he snarls. “Make it stop.” Then, sitting up and glaring at Will like he’s going to kill him with the power of his mind, he demands, “Did you test yet? Did you eat? What’s your BG number?”

Will’s not even out of bed. Only fifteen seconds ago he’d had one hundred and seventy pounds of Patrick spread out on top of him. Of course he hasn’t tested yet. “I just woke up.”

“Don’t make me test you myself.” Patrick flings back the covers and stalks to the bathroom in his underwear. Will rolls his eyes but grabs his kit and quickly tests. Over the sound of piss hitting water, Patrick calls out, “Well? What’s the number?”

“Ninety-eight. Calm your tits.”

Patrick comes out, arms crossed over his chest and his hair sticking up everywhere. “Calm my tits? Calm your tits.”

Will indicates his nipples. “What? Check ’em out. Not even a little bit pointy.”

Patrick narrows his gaze but a reluctant smirk tweaks up the corner of his mouth.

“Let me guess.” Will laughs. “You know how to change that.” The knot of worry loosens in his chest. “Maybe later. I have to eat first.”

While they wait for room service, they shower and shave, and Will endures Patrick making a solid pitch for him to consider a Continuous Glucose Monitoring System.

“I’ll ask Dr. Anastasia about it,” Will compromises.

“And a pump.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

They throw on robes to greet Perry and his cart of warm, delicious-smelling goodies. Conversation is cut dead at that point as Patrick devours his bacon, muffins, doughnuts, and strawberries with fresh cream. Will’s healthier breakfast of cottage cheese, whole-wheat toast, and a small slice of quiche Lorraine isn’t nearly as exciting, but he doesn’t know how Patrick stays so slim eating like he does. If he tried it, he’d be the size of a house.

Once they finish breakfast, Will broaches the topic. “We’re going to need to talk about my dad eventually.”

“What happened to pretending he’s dead?”

“Unfortunately, he’s not.”

“Point.”

“And he’s staying in this building, so we’re bound to run into him sooner rather than later.”

“Better point.”

Will lets a wry grin spread on his lips. “But I’m not going to just sit back and let him run the show this time. I need find out why he’s in town and then get him to leave again. As soon as possible.” He stands up and brings the chess set over to the table, clearing away their plates. “If we can play ahead of his game, we can at least capture his queen. And then maybe even his king. Especially since he won’t be expecting us to be playing at all.”

“If by queen you’re referring to Kimberly, I don’t know about that. She’s a slippery one.”

“You think Tony’s back because of my mother?”

“Historically, her milkshake has brought him to the yard.”

Will sighs as he sets up the board. “She’s only been dating Jason a few weeks. Tony usually waits for her to get serious before he drops in to ruin her chance at happiness.”

“Maybe Jason proposed.”

“That’d be on The Hurting Times forums ten minutes after it happened. Have you seen it there?”

“Nope.”

“And Caitlin would have called threatening to jump off a bridge or shave her head or something drastic in protest.”

“So he hasn’t put a ring on it yet.”

Will moves his pawn forward. “It’s still a starting place.”

Patrick shoves one of his pawns out to an empty square. “Before surgery, I have to know what I’m dealing with. I can’t just cut into someone’s noggin without knowing if I’m going in to repair damage or to cut out a tumor. Same here. We need more information. What’s your dad’s sign?”

Will’s lips flatten. “Seriously?”

Patrick lifts his brows.

“Sagittarius.”

“I knew it!” Patrick shakes his head. “Never trust a Sagittarius.”

Will sighs and ignores this. “Even though the award ceremony isn’t until March, word is getting around now that I won the Healing Hero Award. I hope to God he’s not planning to stick around for that.”

“A congratulatory phone call from Mobster Daddy would have sufficed.”

Will moves a pawn in front of the right bishop. “You’ve been slapped with that stupid malpractice suit. That might have raised his hackles too, if he’s not sure of your intentions toward me.”

“I have zero honorable intentions toward you. So, he’d be onto something there.”

Will snorts. “You made an honest man of me.”

“For now.”

“Yeah.” Will smiles softly as gentle warmth blooms in his chest. “For now.” He bites his lip. “Do you think sex will be even dirtier once we’re divorced?”

Patrick looks up from contemplating the chessboard. “Are you planning on sleeping with me after we’re divorced?”

Will’s ears burn. “Would we have to stop?”

Patrick swallows, his blue eyes shading darker. “Not unless we want to stop.”

Heat zings in the air between them. Will clears his throat. “That’s a long time from now. Who knows when we’ll even have to think about it? You’ll probably be tired of sleeping with me by the time a loophole opens up for us.”

“I’ll never get tired of fucking you.”

Patrick sounds so certain that Will’s dick stirs and he has to look away, focusing his attention back on the chessboard. He’s not sure whose move it is now. “Anyway, there are plenty of reasons for Tony to make the trip from Minneapolis. I’m surprised I didn’t see it coming.”


 

Author Bios

Leta Blake

Author of the bestselling book Smoky Mountain Dreams and the fan favorite Training Season, Leta Blake’s educational and professional background is in psychology and finance, respectively. However, her passion has always been for writing. She enjoys crafting romance stories and exploring the psyches of made up people. At home in the Southern U.S., Leta works hard at achieving balance between her day job, her writing, and her family.

You can find out more about her by following her online:

On the web: http://letablake.wordpress.com/

On Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/letablake

On Twitter: https://twitter.com/LetaBlake

 

Alice Griffiths

A long-time reader of romance novels, Alice Griffiths finally took the plunge into writing, teaming up with best-selling author Leta Blake for the ‘Woke up Married’ serialized comedy. A lover of tropes, Alice enjoys mining old ideas and putting a fresh, funny spin on them. Formerly working in the newspaper industry, Alice is now an art curator. She lives in Sydney, Australia.

You can find out more about her by following her online:

On Twitter: https://twitter.com/Alice_Author

On Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/alice.griffiths.7169


Giveaway:

Click here to visit Rafflecopter and enter to win an ebook copy of any Will & Patrick episode.  (Two winners will be selected.)

 

 

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Buried Treasure — Book Blitz

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Today we’re featuring Buried Treasure by DC Juris here on the good ol’ blog! Read on for the blurb, cover, excerpt, and giveaway!


Blurb:

After his last long-term relationship ended because of his nightmares, Mark closed his heart to the possibility of finding love again. He’s certainly never considered Gabe, the orderly who works at Miller’s Retirement Home where his father lives. But there’s more to Gabe than meets the eye, and if Mark is willing to let Gabe in, he might just discover the most important buried treasure of all.

Book/Buy Links

Goodreads | Torquere

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Excerpt:

“Don’t you have work to do?” The words came out clipped and terse. Mark regretted sounding rude, but he wasn’t in the mood for company, at least not anymore.

“I’m on my lunch break.”

Mark frowned. No way in hell would he stay at his work when he didn’t need to. “You hang around this place on your lunch?”

Gabe shuffled his feet. “I like my job. And anyhow, I was actually hoping to catch up with you today.”

“Why?” The tiny hairs on the back of Mark’s neck stood up. “Something wrong with dad?”

“No.” Gabe shook his head quickly. “Nothing like that. I just wanted to ask you out for a cup of coffee.”

Mark cocked his head, studying Gabe’s appearance for the first time. Usually dressed in a drab navy blue shirt and matching slacks, Gabe was wearing a brightly colored, close fitting Hawaiian shirt with black pants that, if Mark didn’t miss his guess, were brand new. And Gabe had said he’d been hoping to catch up with Mark.

He’d known Gabe ever since he’d moved his dad into Miller’s, but he’d never considered Gabe date-material, though at the moment, he couldn’t say why. Over the course of hundreds of conversations, he’d learned they had a lot in common — from their love of the Pittsburgh Steelers, to their mutual admiration for mystery novels, to preferring pineapple and ham on their pizzas. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“I’m trying to.” Gabe blushed and looked away. “Unless there’s someone. I haven’t seen you with anyone, since the last time Donald came.”

Mark shook his head. “There isn’t anyone.”

“You dumped Donald?”

Was that a trace of happiness Mark detected in Gabe’s tone? “He dumped me, said dad was too much stress for him.” He didn’t like lying, but the real reason for his broken relationship was far too embarrassing. He dumped me because I’m a mental case just didn’t have a positive ring.

“What the hell?” Gabe wrinkled his forehead. “He’s your dad, not Donald’s.”

“Yeah, well.” Donald had been a big mistake, and remained a subject Mark didn’t want to discuss. “How long’s your lunch break?”


 

Author Bio:

Romance author, sci-fi fan club Captain, cosplayer, reigning Queen of Monkeyland, and random menace. Yep, we’re talking about DC Juris. She’s a cupcake-making, football-watching, rubber-duck-collecting, drag-show loving, full-of-fabulous-with-a-capital-F kinda gal. She’s also an ordained minister and an amateur photographer. She lives in Upstate New York with her husband, three dogs, and three cats. When she’s not writing, you can find her in her favorite chair watching Star Trek and Supernatural repeats on Netflix, or surfing the web for porn. Er…research. Surfing the web for research. She may speak softly but she lives and loves loudly. Just ask the neighbors. ::wink::

Author Links

Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Blog


 

Giveaway

Click here to visit Rafflecopter and enter to win an ebook copy of Buried Treasure!

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The Butcher, The Baker, The Candlestick Maker — Book Blitz

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Today’s Book Blitz is The Butcher, The Baker, The Candlestick Maker by Rob Rosen! Check out the blurb, excerpt, and giveaway below!


Blurb:

A photography student gets more than he bargains for when he photographs a blond Polish butcher, who he has sex with in the back of the butcher shop; a ginger-haired Irish baker, who he has sex with in the back of the bakery; and a brunette British candlestick maker, who he has sex with in the back of the candle shop. All of the men photographed are in period costume and all have tricks up their sleeves—and, of course, down their pants. In the end, a budding romance evolves between the student and the butcher.

Book/Buy Links 

Torquere

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Excerpt:

I’d always enjoyed photography. Even as a kid, I’d borrow my dad’s Polaroid and take off to shoot the neighborhood. Now in art school, nothing had changed much. If anything, the passion burned brighter. And so it wasn’t by chance that I enrolled in the photography class that semester, but perhaps fate did play a role in what eventually transpired.

My homework assignment that particular day was called, very simply, “trios.” We could use our fertile imaginations to interpret this any way we wanted to. Me, I wanted to go all out—balls to the wall, as it were. In other words, I wanted an A. And so over the weekend, I biked around town, looking for anything that stood out, anything iconic but unusual just the same.

A pizza parlor, perhaps? Mushroom, pepperoni, and anchovy? Too easy, I figured. Street lights, maybe? Red lights, green lights, yellow lights? Too, uh, pedestrian. How about kids, parents, and grandparents, I thought? Well, they said never to work with children or animals. I couldn’t have agreed more. In other words, nix on that idea, as well. Besides, approaching children and asking to take their picture was never a wise idea.

No, I had to dig deeper, find something unexpected but fun to photograph, something no one else in my class was going to come up with. And so I ended up at Old Times, a local mall dedicated to days gone by. Which, to be quite frank, was generally just another way for the stores to charge extra for crap no one needed. Still, I reasoned, my inevitable photographs would be out of the ordinary.

I looked around, my high-end digital camera at the ready. Luckily, I spotted my prey right off the bat, their storefronts side by side by side. The butcher was on the left, the candlestick maker on the right, the baker in the middle.

Iconic—check. Trio—check. It seemed like I was good to go.

“Whoa,” I whispered as I entered the butcher shop, mainly because the butcher was one mighty fine slab of meat. Grade A prime, in fact—and with one hell of a rump roast to boot. He was dressed in 1930s garb, the uniform tight and white, hugging him in all the right places¬. Then again, by the looks of him, he had no wrong ones to begin with. He had on a fancy straw hat, a white bow tie, a white apron, and heavy black shoes. The sleeves of his white button-down were rolled up to reveal meaty forearms covered in a thick blond down.

In truth, we couldn’t have looked more different. He had three inches and a good thirty pounds on me. He was blond to my brunette, blue eyes to my brown. Plus, he was easily seven or eight years older. Still, in my randy imagination, we made a picture-perfect couple. And since I took perfect pictures, I knew of what I spoke. Cart before horse? Fine, so sue me.

Anyway, he smiled when I approached, his teeth as white as his clothes, gleaming and perfect, eyes a dazzling blue. And when he spoke, “Welcome,” it was with a beautiful, trilling Eastern European accent of some kind. Polish, maybe? Slovakian? Fuck if I cared; it was sexy either way. “Can I help you?” he asked, the smile so bright I very nearly put my sunglasses on.

Hell yeah, I thought, but told him instead the reason for my visit: that I wished to film him for my class. He smiled when I was done and said I could take some pictures when the shop closed at six. Then we wouldn’t be interrupted. I gulped when he said it, mainly because those stunning orbs of blue were locked in on me like a meat hook to a side of beef. I thanked him and told him I’d be back at six.

All the above I repeated at shop number two—the same spiel, the inner monologue only slightly different.

The baker was thin and dreamy, with a white chef’s hat and a white button-down shirt, which was opened at the collar to reveal just the slightest hint of ginger chest hair. Over this, he wore a pristine white apron. His eyes sparkled like green emeralds as he nodded my way, his crisp white uniform showing off his physique as he dexterously stocked the shelves with a beautiful array of fresh pastries and cookies. When he spoke, it was with a lilting Irish brogue that made my cock throb in my jeans. In the end, he invited me back first thing in the morning, before he started baking.

All the above I then repeated at shop number three. By then I had my story down pat.

The candlestick maker’s outfit was the most unusual of the three. He wore not a stitch of white. His shirt was a blousy blue, his vest a clover green, his slacks a muddy brown, and his shoes, heels and all, were a midnight black. His smock, which was covered in wax, was also black, to perfectly match his beret. He wasn’t stocky like the butcher nor thin like the baker, but dreamily average in both height and weight. He had brown hair and brown eyes, and spoke—be still my heart, and hard-on—in a posh British accent. I was thankful that he immediately locked up shop, agreeing to pose for me once he finished his work in the back, leaving me in the front to ponder my good fortune.


 

Author Bio:

Rob Rosen (www.therobrosen.com), award-winning author of the novels Sparkle: The Queerest Book You’ll Ever Love, Divas Las Vegas, Hot Lava, Southern Fried, Queerwolf, Vamp, Queens of the Apocalypse, Creature Comfort and Fate, and editor of the anthologies Lust in Time, Men of the Manor, Best Gay Erotica 2015 and Best Gay Erotica of the Year, Volume 1, has had short stories featured in more than 200 anthologies.

Facebook Author Page | Website


 

Giveaway:

Click here to visit Rafflecopter and enter to win an ebook copy of The Butcher, The Baker, The Candlestick Maker.

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