Tag Archives: m/m romance

Submissive Candy by Zane Menzy

Good morning, MM book lovers! Today I’ve got Submissive Candy by Zane Menzy — check it out!


Blurb:

Everything blew up in Levi Candy’s face when he set out to seduce his best friend Josh Stephenson. Instead of having his dubious way with the sexy straight boy, and making him the unwitting star of the next Candy Boy blog entry, Josh’s father thwarted Levi’s plan and taught him a humiliating lesson.

In exchange for Josh’s father’s silence, Levi is forced to write a story about the night his body was disciplined by the dominant man in ways he will never be able to forget or undo. If he doesn’t want people finding out about his scandalous online alter ego then Levi best damn well do it. But there’s just one problem… no one tells Levi Candy what to do and gets away with it.

Two stubborn men, both dominant by nature, are on a collision course with cruel carnality where there can only be one winner and hearts will never beat the same again.

Buy your copy now or read for free with Kindle Unlimited!

2 Submissive 1

Excerpt:

Dwight tugged nervously on his earlobe as he watched the boy head towards the smokers area out the back of the tavern. He’d never been cruised so blatantly before that he was unsure of what to do. Certainly never in his local tavern. His head knew that if he were to follow the boy then he would put himself in danger of doing something stupid and reckless but his hardening cock begged him to stand up and chase after the young man regardless of the consequences. In the end—like always—his cock was what he listened to.

“I’m just nipping out for a fag,” Dwight said, standing up. If he wasn’t so nervous about Shifty asking to join him he would have laughed at how honest his statement was. He needn’t have worried. His older pal was far too engrossed in the rugby to give a toss about joining him for a cigarette.

With a sure stride, Dwight headed to the outdoor smoking area, hunting the blond lad down like a dog chasing a frisbee. As soon as he stepped outside, Dwight was taken aback by how dark the courtyard was. It looked to be deserted and no sign of the blond boy. He scanned the empty chairs that were placed around dimly lit braziers but could not see him anywhere.

Maybe he didn’t go this way.

Just as he turned on his heels, about to head back inside, he heard a low cough come from the far corner of the courtyard. He spun back around and that was when he saw him stood against a vine-covered brick wall. A smile formed on Dwight’s lips and he made his way over to the flirty boy.

“Howzit,” Dwight said, his voice pitched low with gravel.

“Hey.” The boy stood there completely relaxed, oozing a sexual confidence rarely found in young guys.

Dwight jammed his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his feet, not entirely sure how to progress things. He liked to be the alpha who had the power but he was outside of his comfort zone and unsure how to make the next move.

“So, uh, hows ya night been?” Dwight asked, his voice warbling slightly.

“Good.”

On closer inspection this lad was younger than he originally thought, more likely in his late teens than early twenties. “How old are you?” Dwight asked in a stern tone.

“Old enough,” came the reply, steadfast and sure.

“Old enough for what?”

“Whatever it is you had in mind.”

“Is that so.”

The boy didn’t respond; instead, he bit down on his bottom lip, extending his hand out and placing it on Dwight’s crotch, grabbing him firmly.

Dwight coughed out a quiet gasp. The boy had his balls in his hands, seizing control of the interaction. This was not how Dwight wanted things to go.

The boy kept hold, gripping Dwight tightly in his hand, staring into his dark eyes which were torn between pleasure and fright. His cock twitched and grew firm between the boy’s furled fingers.

The boy breathed heavily, releasing his grip on Dwight’s dick and asked, “How old are you?”

“How old do you think I am?”

He looked Dwight up and down, scanning his face. “I reckon you’re about Twenty-eight or twenty-nine?”

Dwight’s ego began to swell just like his cock, scaring off his jitters and injecting him with enough confidence to wrestle back control of the moment. “Close enough.”

“Was I right?”

“You’ll have to count the rings around my cock to find out, won’t ya?”

The boy sniggered. “Is that before or after you count mine.”

“I won’t be counting yours, sunshine.”

“And why not?”

“Cos I ain’t a cock-slobbering homo.”

“You might change your mind when you see it.” He grabbed Dwight’s wrist roughly and pressed Dwight’s hand to the hard ridge behind his zipper. “What do you think?”

Dwight kept his hand pressed against the boy’s rock-hard dick, adding a small amount of friction, wishing like hell those jeans weren’t in the way. He could tell the boy wasn’t huge but he would be a good mouthful. Not that he had any intention of wrapping his lips around it.

Dwight Stephenson sucked no man’s cock.

“Unzip me. I know you want it,” the boy said, all breathy-like. “My dick.”

“I might like to have a play with it,” Dwight admitted. “But not out here.”

“Fair enough.” The boy looked around the courtyard, his eyes seeking secret spots. “But where then?”

“The women’s toilets.”

“The women’s toilets,” the boy echoed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“There’s only one bitch here tonight—aside from you of course—so we shouldn’t get interrupted.”

“Oi. I’m not a bitch, bro.”

“You are whatever I want you to be.” Dwight stared back with unflinching dominance.

The boy’s face began to crinkle with doubt. He appeared to be in a war with his inner pride and self-respect, trying to decide if he should just walk away. He finally gave a begrudging nod of the head, agreeing to the submissive role he was being assigned.

Dwight suppressed a smile and instructed, “Now, I want you to go back inside, lock yourself in one of the ladies cubicles, strip naked, and bend over the toilet and wait for me to come fuck you.”

Hesitation stifled the air.

“Would it be alright if we just jacked off together? I’m not much of a bottom,” the boy said.

“If you want to hook up with me then you gonna be a bottom, son.”

The boy scratched at his neck. “Oh, man. I am keen but…”

“But what?”

“But I don’t have a condom or any lube with me.”

“Just as well for you I have a rubber in my wallet.”

“And lube?”

“Your mouth will be our lube.” Dwight gave the boy a salacious wink.

This didn’t help remove the stress etched on the boy’s face. He looked like he may just walk away.

Dwight was too damn close to miss out now, so he resorted to desperate measures. He looked behind him to make sure no one was coming then reached down and pushed his jeans off his hips, freeing his cock. “You think you can handle that?” He wasn’t fully-erect but he was hard enough for the boy to appreciate his imminent size.

The boy’s eyes glowed with horny intrigue. “Whoa, that’s a beautiful cock you got there.”

“I know.”

The boy reached over and gripped it, squeezing his warm digits around Dwight’s shaft, exploring his length. “Fuck that’s nice.”

“Okay. That’s enough.” He pushed the boy’s hand away and put his dick back in his pants.

“Is it nice enough for you to do what I want?”

“What do I get out of it?”

“The honour of being fucked by me.” Dwight was serious. “And if you’re lucky I might let you give me your phone number.”

“You’re a cocky one. Anybody ever tell you that?”

“Maybe… but it’s hard to tell what they’re saying ‘cos they’re usually choking on my dick.”

The boy laughed.

“So, are we doing this or what?” Dwight stared at him blankly.

“Yeah, why the hell not.”

“That’s the spirit, blondie.”

“My name ain’t blondie. It’s—”

Dwight put a finger to the boy’s lips, hushing him. “I don’t need your name, son. Just your arse. Now go to the toilets and wait for me.”

“How long will you be?”

“As long as I fucking want.”

“You’re a bit of an arsehole, bro.” The boy chuckled. “But it’s kinda hot.”

Of course it is.

Dwight suddenly stepped back, his eyes raking over the boy’s chest, lower, then back to his lips that would soon be sucking dick. “Hurry the fuck up and get in there. And when I say I expect you naked, I do mean naked. None of this leaving your t-shirt and socks on bullshit.”

“Yes, Sir.” The boy grinned, giving a mock salute before disappearing inside.

Dwight pressed down on his cock which throbbed impatiently as he watched the boy walk away. The blond lad may not have been Levi-Candy-gorgeous but he would do.

When he was done with taking his sweet time puffing his way through a cigarette, Dwight made his way inside where he slipped discreetly into the ladies toilets and had his way with the piece of teen meat, wrecking the boy’s arsehole with a ruthless fuck.

Yep. I’m the man.

Buy your copy now or read for free with Kindle Unlimited!


About Zane Menzy:

Zane lives along the wild west coast of New Zealand in an old seaside cottage with his gaming-obsessed flatmate. He is a fan of ghost stories, road trips, dark-haired men, and nights out that usually lead to his head hanging in a bucket the next morning.

He enjoys creating characters who have flaws, crazy thoughts, and a tendency to make bad decisions. His stories are emotionally-charged and don’t shy away from some of love and life’s darker themes.

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From the Ashes by CM Valencourt

Greetings book lovers! Today I’ve got From The Ashes by CM Valencourt! Read on for the blurb, cover, excerpt, and more!


Blurb:

Hunter and Derek are at a fork in the road…

At their friend Justin’s funeral, once-best-friends Derek and Hunter meet again almost four years after their monumental falling out. Hunter kissed Derek, and Derek freaked out and chose a college on the other side of the country.

If they had a choice, both of them would walk away and never see the other again. Except Justin has given them a mission: an epic road trip to scatter his ashes all over the Midwest, complete with cryptic notes, new friends, and a whole lot of sexual tension. Can Derek and Hunter finish Justin’s road trip without ripping each other’s heads—or clothes—off?

This is a stand-alone 65,000-word novel with an HEA ending.

Buy your copy of From The Ashes at Amazon!

From the Ashes Cover

Excerpt:

“Why are you suddenly okay with having a gay friend now?”

“What?”

“I mean, you obviously didn’t feel comfortable being best friends with someone who was gay. So what changed?”

Derek’s heart hurt. Of course that’s what Hunter thought, that he ran away because the thought of two guys kissing made him angry or grossed him out. Derek himself had thought that was the case for a while, had even tried to convince himself of it for years. It wasn’t the truth, but Hunter had no way to know that.

No wonder he had hated him.

“I never had a problem with you being gay, Hunter. Fuck, I’m sorry it seemed like that. I’m such an idiot.”

Hunter squinted at him. “You didn’t care that I was gay?”

“I don’t think so. Not in the way you think.”

“So I could have brought a boy to prom, had him in all of our prom pictures, told you about how I sucked his dick in the bathroom, and you would have been…?”

Derek could barely breathe. He imagined wearing a black tux to prom while Hunter wore some crazy colored suit, Derek’s tie and pocket square matching his suit so everyone would know they were together. He imagined his mom and dad taking pictures of the two of them on their front staircase, his father giving Hunter a talk about keeping Derek safe. And he imagined Hunter’s hands around his waist, not caring that the whole thing was a little lame, kissing lightly under cheap party lighting.

But that wasn’t the scenario Hunter was proposing. “I would have been…I don’t know.” Hunter raised one eyebrow, and Derek was stumbling. “I just- it was so confusing. I didn’t tell you everything.”

“So tell me now.” Hunter pulled his feet away.

Derek knew he was digging himself further and further in. If he didn’t just explain to Hunter, he was going to lose him again.

“I was upset about the kiss because…” But he couldn’t say it. There was no way it was coming out after all this time.

“You can tell me anything, Dere.”

There it was, the tipping point, everything falling over the edge. “Because I think I might have liked it.”

Derek could tell that, out of everything, that wasn’t what Hunter was expecting him to say. His eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

Derek couldn’t say it again. He shrugged, a weak smile on his face.

“Okay. That’s…new information. So do you think you’re-”

“I don’t know.” Derek tried to control his breathing like he always told Hunter to do, gripped onto the bed sheets to keep himself from running out of the room.

“Have you experimented, then? You’re at an arts school; I have to imagine there’s some guy who’d be down.”

“No.” Derek blushed. “Only the once.”

Hunter’s voice was strong, but Derek noticed his fingers slightly shaking.

“Then what we have here is a hypothesis: Derek Knight might like kissing boys.”

One boy, specifically, Derek thought. His palms were sweating.

“So a hypothesis needs to be falsifiable. How do you feel about kissing girls?”

“It’s…fine.”

Hunter chuckled. “That’s what you said about the beer.”

Derek elbowed him lightly in the ribs.

“But a hypothesis also has to be repeatable,” Hunter continued. It took Derek a few moments to catch up.

“You’d really kiss me again? After all that?”

Hunter smiled. “After everything, I promised myself I wouldn’t kiss any straight boys. But I think you’re currently falling under the LGBTQ umbrella under Questioning.”

His head was buzzing. If Hunter was actually willing to kiss him again, he knew he had to try.

“Okay,” Derek said, barely a whisper.

Hunter seemed to remember the camera, still on in his hand. He turned it off and got up to put it on his bed. When he came back, he was closer, facing Derek. “But only if you want to,” Hunter told him.

In that moment, Derek wanted to be the one to lean in, wanted to crash into Hunter like the lake into the sand. But it was too hard, the chasm between them too dangerous for him to cross.

He couldn’t make himself say it, so instead he nodded. He closed his eyes, waiting for it to come.

Hunter’s lips met his, and instantly it was like they were back in that day in Hunter’s parents’ basement, the continuation of something. Hunter moved slowly at first, letting Derek get a taste of what was happening.

Buy your copy of From The Ashes at Amazon!


About the Author:

C.M. Valencourt is a new m/m romance author. They started devouring queer fiction when they still had to smuggle it into their parents’ Catholic household, and dreamed of writing books about queer people finding love ever since. They like figure skating, ghost hunting shows, and Carly Rae Jepsen. You can find out more about their books and learn about upcoming releases at cmvalencourt.com.

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Yakuza by Lilia Blanc

Greetings book lovers!

Today I want to share with you Yakuza by Lilia Blanc! This book was published by my company, Deep Desires Press. I loooove this book, but because of its sad ending, it’s been getting some rough love.

Take a look below, and keep in mind the sad ending (which is redeemed in the forthcoming sequel), and then click on through to get your copy!


Blurb:

The people of Tawano are used to the yakuza. They know to avoid them, to get off the streets when fights are brewing. At least, most of them do.

When college student Hiroshi makes a fatal mistake, and finds himself held at knifepoint, there’s only one person who can help him: Kazuo, the yakuza who controls Tawano, and the one who started the fight in the first place.

They’re completely different, and as their paths keep crossing, neither of them can understand the other—but it’s clear they’ll have to, or the dangers that follow Kazuo could claim more than just the lives of a few city-folk.

Click here to get your copy!

Yakuza-Lilia-Blanc-2400

Excerpt:

“Anything?”

My right-hand man shook his head. Masao looked over at me from where he stood leaning against the wall of my elaborate office, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He was disappointed, and most likely in himself. Masao always prided himself in getting the things I asked for without delay or hassle. But, I suppose there were some things that even the ex-assassin couldn’t do. I frowned as I looked away from his piercing hazel stare to the dark wood of my desk.

“Bastards,” I hissed to myself. I leaned back in the large leather chair and eyed the room we were in while I listened. A bookshelf to my right held odds and ends from my father, an old collection I dare not part with. To my left a printer was set up on a separate desk. My computer was to the left on my desk and a black jar holding a handful of pens sat next to it.

“They hide well,” Masao commented. He shoved off the wall and stepped further into the room. He still wore the full black clothing he’d gone out in the night before. I could see the handles of many knives clinging to the vest he wore. Masao sat down, the leather chair he’d chosen creaking as he sank in it and crossed one leg over the other. He tilted his head and gave a heavy sigh. The sway of the single earring in his right ear marked him as my right hand. “Too well and it reminds me of a certain someone we used to know a long time ago,” he added with an irritated groan.

I was afraid of that. I hadn’t wanted to hear it, yet it was being spoken in my private office in Kiyto. “No, that can’t be. I shot him. Watched the ocean wash that bastard away.”

“Ghosts don’t always disappear, Kazuo. Sometimes they have accomplices.”

“Then find this ‘accomplice’!” I snapped at him and he stiffened in the chair briefly. I sighed, regretting losing my temper with him. Masao was the best of my men, I knew he was doing everything in his power to accomplish the order I’d given him.

“I’m doing what I can to do that for you. We’ll find him. Soon.” The sharp edge to his voice added to the determination painted on his face.

“I hope you’re right about that. If I begin to lose too much money, Tawano is going to fall into a depression. Much like the one I fought so hard to bring it out of,” I answered him in a softer tone, hoping to make up for yelling at him.

“We know that. It’s why we’re doing everything we can to figure it out. Trust us, Kazuo. If not your men, then trust me in the least.”

“I do trust you.”

Masao sighed and leaned forward. “Sometimes I wonder if you really do.”

I frowned at him. “Of everyone here who I know would put their life in danger for me, I trust you the most. I know you’ll find this person, whoever they are. And when you do, we’ll deal with them as we’ve dealt with others before.”

Masao nodded and stood up. He gave me a deep bow before he turned to leave the private office. “I’ll give you their head on a silver platter if you wish.”

“I know.”

The door closed, leaving me to brew over my thoughts in silence. Masao would undoubtedly find them; the source of the leak. The one who was channeling a fair amount of money out of Tawano and into an unknown account. I’d been watching the money filter its way toward a number I didn’t recognize for a week now and we weren’t any closer to finding the culprit than we had been at the beginning of the investigation. Not even the police who worked for me could find the source. It was driving me mad.

• • •

Despite having told Masao that I trusted him, it was difficult to sit and just wait. I had to do something, anything. So I left Kiyto and took the hour drive into Tawano city. The downtown area was rather nice to cruise around once I got there. Bustling with people, clean streets, and holding the lowest crime rate; I was proud of my city. And I was determined to keep things the way they were in Tawano. I drove with no particular destination in mind. As I took turn after turn, watching the shops and the people who went about their daily lives, my mind wandered. It had been a handful of years since the streets had seen any dark horrors. In the clutches of a man who was bound and determined to run it to the ground, Tawano had once been the center of all kinds of crime. The death toll was one of the highest in the world and, in addition to that, the city had also been labeled the worst to even dare visit.

It took everything I had to overthrow the asshole who had nearly destroyed it all. Including me. If not for certain events, I was certain I’d have had a hand in the destruction too. If only … Izuya.I clenched the wheel a little too tightly, my knuckles turning white as I waited for the light ahead of me to switch to green. How long had it been? Six … seven years? I couldn’t recall. It wasn’t as if that part of my life was the most vibrant either. The only light that had been in my life at the time was Izuya.

When he found me in the dark alley, rain was pouring down on me. Three men dead because of the hit ordered on them and their blood soaking my clothes. Izuya had come out of nowhere. Instead of being afraid of me, he held his umbrella out over me, covering my body from the rain. Damn his light. His pretty smile. The overly large sweatshirt he wore that his slender fingers barely peeked out of.

Izuya.

A horn blared behind me and I started in the seat. The light was green and for how long I didn’t know because I had been daydreaming. I gunned it, tearing through the intersection while I frowned and glared in my rearview mirror. As if it were the man’s fault I hadn’t been paying attention. After a moment, I sighed and relaxed, slowing down as I cruised the streets. I couldn’t let myself get lost in old times. It wasn’t good for me, or any of the men that worked for me either.

They needed someone strong and unwavering. If I showed any of the opposite, I would be killed. Even Masao wouldn’t be able to stop it. We had far too many enemies. Tawano was a port city, perfect for trade. The ideal hot spot for any yakuza to take control of. And one that I had no intention of giving up. Some might have called me yakuza as well, but I wasn’t the kind of businessman who would destroy his place of operations. I was smarter than that.

And as my thoughts wandered yet again, I passed by another busy section of town. The university was blooming with ripe students. The wealth of the area was easy to see, as was the entirety of my city. Yet here, as I slowly rolled past the park, coffee shop, and library, my heart clenched so hard that I came to a hard stop without realizing it.

“Izuya…” I whispered his name, yet even as I did so I knew it couldn’t be right. It wasn’t right because I knew better. There was no possible way it was him. Yet, the young brunette looked exactly like him. Even his smile. I trembled as I watched the college student talk with his friend as they passed the university, either on their way home or to whatever part time job they held. It took everything I had not to get out of the car and call to him.

I wrenched my gaze away and glared at the street ahead of me. I forced myself to hit the gas and keep moving. Where had that young man come from? I scolded myself for even considering the things that ran through my head. Izuya wasn’t with me anymore and there was nothing I could do about it. I shouldn’t shove off my old affections onto someone else, let alone a complete stranger who had no idea to begin with.

I drove through the streets a little faster that time. It was already well into the late afternoon hours. Instead of heading to the office, I went out of the city and took the long hour drive back to Kiyto. There, at the very least, I could relax somewhat. Without the temptations of the city, or the brunette. I ground my teeth as I drove a little too fast through the streets to get to the highway. I hoped to hell that Masao would have something for me soon. Something else to focus on since I’d thoroughly managed to screw myself over.

Kiyto was a beautiful place — an ancient temple that was built in the wayo style — that I had inherited some years ago. Of course my father would be more than disappointed in how I was utilizing the grounds now. It hadn’t been a place for worship in many decades, even during his time. After overcoming the tyrant who held Tawano in his clutches those years ago, I found Kiyto to be the only sanctuary for myself and those that followed me. It was massive, housing the entirety of my men if they so chose. Currently it only held a small portion of the group, seeing as many had families to go to at the end of their workday.

I pulled into the gravel yard after passing the massive pitch-black gates at the front of the estate. Almost all of the vehicles in the yard were black SUVs large enough to hold a small army of men and powerful enough to rush through the city should it be needed. The only one that was different belonged to Masao. The sharp silver color was a stark contrast to the rest of the fleet of vehicles. And it wasn’t meant for a large group of men to go rolling around in either. Four was its max seating, and with it being only a two door, even that was pushing it.

The supra was his pride and joy. And I was happy to see it sitting in the yard. It told me that he was in Kiyto and probably long before I’d decided to return. I parked my car and got out. Gravel crunched under my shoes as I crossed the massive yard to follow the old bridge that crossed over into the sacred grounds. The rock gardens were immaculately kept, designs woven through the sands in intricate displays that immediately calmed my chaotic mind.

The small creek that flowed beneath the bridge gurgled softly as I passed, the wood creaking under foot. The rails were red and the sides that held it up were black, reflecting the temple that lay ahead of me. The old design recalled a time long past when Japan was still fighting over territories. Red pillars rose up high to hold the curving roof. Black walls gave off a sense of formidable elegance. I followed the path up to the steps of the place I called home.

I passed through the double doors, which were carved with dragons on either side, their jaws coming down as if to engulf the handles. Once inside, I was greeted by a good many voices as the men passed through the halls, busy with their own agendas. I replied as I saw them, not bothering to stop for too long. Masao was there and I had to see if he’d come up with anything for me. We had been dealing with the problem we’d spoken about that morning for weeks now. Masao was good, but I couldn’t help losing hope over the matter.

“I was just about to call you,” Masao said as he exited a room down the hall and caught sight of me.

“I decided to finish early.” I kept walking and he fell into step next to me. “Do you have anything?”

“I do. It’s small, but it might lead to something bigger. You’re not going to like it though.”

I frowned. “I think at this point, anything you tell me is something I’m not going to like.”

“It’s Gin.”

“Gin?”

“He’s the one siphoning the money to that strange account. I don’t know why I didn’t catch it before.”

“Because we weren’t looking on the inside,” I replied, rage starting to seethe as I thought it through. Of course it was Gin, how could I have missed that. As of late he’d been offering a lot of opposition to our decisions. He was the only one to argue with me during meetings on where the group was headed next, what direction we were going to take. I’d ignored him, his reasonings weren’t sound enough to be of any worth. I was seeing my mistake now.

“I got him to agree to a meeting tonight. I didn’t say for what or why. He’d have bolted otherwise.”

“Good. He still might run, but at least we have a start. We’ll interrogate him and get to the bottom of this. He’s been a pain in the ass lately. I wonder who’s bought him out.”

Masao snorted. “Probably some half-wit who thinks they can waltz into Tawano and intimidate us with stealing money. And not even that much.”

“No, just an annoyance really.”

“An annoyance that’s got our attention,” he sighed. “I don’t know. I guess it feels odd. In any case, we’ll deal with Gin and get our hands on the asshole who’s pulling the strings.”

I nodded. “Tonight you said? What time?”

“Around eight. I figured he’d feel better if we met in the city. More witnesses for him.”

I shook my head as I gave Masao a small smirk. “Unfortunately, all of those witnesses are mine and no one will say a damn word should he end up with a bullet through his skull.”

“Well. They might say something, but it’s not a big deal. The cops here know about everything. They won’t listen to a story about the yakuza leader who disposed of a leak.”

“Get ready. We’ll see how it goes tonight. No doubt someone is going to end up with a hole in their body. And it’s not going to be me.”

Click here to get your copy!

 

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Bloodspell by Lily Luchesi

Greetings, book lovers! I’m excited to share an excerpt with you from Bloodspell, written by USA Today bestselling author Lily Luchesi! Read on for the blurb, cover, and excerpt — and be sure to get your copy today!


BloodspellSimonWhip

Blurb:

Bound by an ancient prophecy, freed by love.

Mages have lived by a prophecy that states that once there are two mage houses left, one must kill the other to maintain a magical balance. But the prophecy is disrupted when a new mage is revealed and begins killing everyone in his path.

Simon Moonspell and Tobias Bloodworth, the last two mages of the ancient houses, must put their animosity aside in order to stop this new mage and fulfill the prophecy. However, when their hatred slowly turns to love, can they remain impartial or will they be forced to battle to the death?

AVAILABLE NOW FOR 99c! OR FREE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED!

lily7

Excerpt:

Tobias scoffed, but he was smirking. “Well, there is a first time for everything, isn’t there?”

“Git.”

“Yes, I am, and I own it.” He stood up and stretched his legs. His coat was discarded, and he wore only a pair of black trousers and a white shirt. Simon noticed his nails were polished matte black. It was a nice touch … as was that gorgeous body.

“Once we find the prophecy and see if there is a way to circumvent it, we need to figure out where Thornhill is hiding and eradicate the bastard from existence,” he said with more vehemence than Simon had ever heard from him. “We have spent hundreds of years fulfilling this prophecy, upholding the names of our houses and the standards at which mages have always been held and he — he — ” Tobias trailed off in a huff. “Damn it,” he muttered. “Control, control.”

Simon stood up and walked behind Tobias. He placed a hand on his bony shoulder and said, “Hey, it’s okay. We’re going to kill him; we’ll make him pay for his crimes. I promise.”

Tobias’ skin was warm beneath his shirt and Simon wanted to melt right into him, to hold him from behind and —

Stop it, he scolded himself.  For once my brain makes more sense than my body!

Tobias stood straighter and turned, dislodging Simon’s hand from his shoulder and breaking the moment. “Forgive me. I am not often like this.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. This is a lot of pressure, mate,” Simon said. “We never really discussed it but … if there is no way to change the prophecy…”

“Then one of us must kill the other. Yes, I am familiar with it,” Tobias snapped.

“You don’t want to kill me?” Simon asked, confused. He always assumed that Tobias would relish the chance to kill him and make it hurt after how he’d treated him when they were children.

“No, despite my sour disposition, I am not a particular fan of murder,” he said. “And you? Were you relishing the idea of finally getting rid of the pesky little brat you used to knock over on the playground?”

Simon felt sick. Had he really hurt Tobias so much that those beautiful black eyes were filling with moisture? “No… I — I’m sorry,” he said, head hanging. “I was a stupid kid. I never wanted to hurt you, not really. And I don’t want to kill you.”

“Then let’s do what mages do best, shall we? Create a solution to a magical problem.”

Tobias acted as though he hadn’t just been on the verge of some sort of breakdown as he gave Simon a translator and they began looking for the prophecy again.

It wasn’t until late that night as Simon was starting to fall asleep that he heard Tobias exclaim, “I’ve got it!”

Simon nearly fell out of his chair from the shock. He had never heard the reserved man shout so loudly. “W-what?”

“The prophecy, you imbecile! I found it! And it’s already translated for us.”

“Well? What’s it say?” Simon asked, going to stand at his side. He could feel the heat from his skin, smell an earthy shampoo that was just so … Tobias. It was enough to send his libido into overdrive as if he was a teenager again.

“Here.” Tobias angled the book so that Simon could see.

* * *

“Here we stand with mages uncountable, in the age where magic is new. They will create and make the future, spells all shall use. But one by one the houses must fall; as magic expands, they must recede. Until one day only one house name shall remain of the mighty mages, lasting for eternity in history. On the day that two remain, one must make the deciding blow and concede their name. Only one name can remain. The balance of magic must be maintained, and so it has been said, so shall it be.”

AVAILABLE NOW FOR 99c! OR FREE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED!


About the Author:

Lily Luchesi is the USA Today bestselling and award-winning author of the Paranormal Detectives Series, published by Vamptasy Publishing. She also has short stories included in multiple bestselling anthologies, and a successful dark erotica retelling of Dracula. She is also the editor, curator and contributing author of Vamptasy Publishing’s Damsels of Distress anthology, which celebrates strong female characters in horror and paranormal fiction. She was born in Chicago, Illinois, and now resides in Los Angeles, California. Ever since she was a toddler her mother noticed her tendency for being interested in all things “dark”. At two she became infatuated with vampires and ghosts, and that infatuation turned into a lifestyle. She is also an out member of the LGBT+ community. When she’s not writing, she’s going to rock concerts, getting tattooed, watching the CW, or reading manga. And drinking copious amounts of coffee.

www.facebook.com/LilyLuchesi

http://lilyluchesibooks.wix.com/lilyluchesi

http://amazon.com/author/lilyluchesi

www.twitter.com/LilyLuchesi

https://www.facebook.com/groups/1000888509953193/
(street team)

www.instagram.com/lilyluchesi

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7369101.Lily_Luchesi

https://www.authorgraph.com/authors/LilyLuchesi (have
your e-books autographed!)

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Donovan’s by CC Strix

Wyatt is at the top of his game. His restaurant, Donovan’s, is booked out six months in advance and his goals of having the top steakhouse in Las Vegas no longer seem like a dream. Despite his professional success, it’s not enough, because no matter how hard he works, he’s still alone at the end of the day. Wyatt can’t let anyone close. A lesson that’s been drilled into him time and again. There’s too much at stake. One mistake could cost him everything. So, he keeps his head down and stays out of trouble, until a customer drops dead in his dining room and he realizes his past may not be as far behind as he hopes.

Rhonan needs a change. Small towns and small town minds have worn on him. When his granddad calls and says he needs help, they both know it’s the excuse Rhonan needs to make the move from Illinois to Las Vegas. The change of pace and fresh start is just what he needs to find himself. When a guy drops dead at the restaurant Rhonan’s eating at and he overhears something he shouldn’t, his journalist instincts kick in before he can stop himself. Soon, he finds it’s only the beginning of the whirlwind that trails behind the mysterious chef. It may not be quite what Rhonan had in mind when he decided to turn his life upside down, but there’s something about the handsome chef that keeps Rhonan coming back for more.

Buy your copy now or read for free on Kindle Unlimited!

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Excerpt:

Rhonan paid for his drink and tipped the gorgeous blue eyed, black haired, muscles on top of muscles, bartender then turned his head slightly towards the center of the club. The way the club was set up, there were two levels for the bar, but the upper level was quieter, if only marginally, due to the huge open center than revealed the dance floor below. He let his gaze run over the crowd below and his heart kicked in his chest when his gaze landed on those same hazel eyes he’d been trying to chase from his head since Rhonan walked away from them hours before. He had tried to brush off his interest in the chef as a simple curiosity. After all, someone was murdered in his restaurant and a threat was found. Add in the fact Rhonan was having visions about the same man, how could he not be curious? After that brief run in with Wyatt in the parking garage, Rhonan knew his interest ran deeper. It had taken all of Rhonan’s self-control not to get closer to Wyatt as they stood there smoking. His deep timbered voice had soothed Rhonan’s nerves and he had actually considered slipping Wyatt his number before he remembered himself and walked away. He knew it wasn’t something he should pursue at this point. Wyatt would be busy enough at the restaurant and Rhonan had to figure out what the hell he was going to do with his life. There was no sense in starting anything up until he knew if he would even be sticking around. Then again, they could have simply had one night. Apparently they still could.

Rhonan shook his head, trying to rid himself from these thoughts and found Wyatt on the dance floor once more, still staring up in Rhonan’s direction. His heart skipped a beat like it had back in the parking garage when he caught Wyatt staring at him. The chef was definitely going to be bad for Rhonan’s heart at this rate. What was he doing here? Had they closed the restaurant down? Rhonan stopped caring once Wyatt flashed a predatory smile his way. Through a bold move of trying to maintain disinterest, Rhonan turned away from the sexy chef and focused on the bartender instead. He laughed and flirted with the man while he discretely pulled out his phone to check for new information on the restaurant or the investigation, but found nothing other than the standard, ‘police are investigating, business as usual after today’. Rhonan had just slipped his phone back into his pocket when the bartender gasped quietly and took a step back, his eyes pinned on whoever was closing in on Rhonan’s personal space.

“Two of whatever he’s having.”

The rough voice with the slight accent to it, one Rhonan still couldn’t place, sent a shiver racing right down his spine. He leaned his head back without turning around, “You might be sorely disappointed in that, Mr. Palmer. It’s only soda for me tonight, I’m afraid.”

Wyatt leaned down so his lips were close to Rhonan’s ear. “I’m not looking to get drunk. There are plenty of other ways to get a buzz without liquor.”

The bartender quickly returned with two more lime sodas, flashing his megawatt smile as he tried to flirt with both men. Wyatt slapped down a twenty, barely giving the bartender a second glance as he told him to keep the change. His attention never straying from Rhonan, “I was thinking about you. Or rather trying not to think about you. I came here looking for a distraction,” Wyatt leaned in near Rhonan’s ear, again, and dropped his voice, “and imagine my surprise when I found the source of my frustration instead.” He shook his head, “I don’t think it’s a coincidence I ran into you. I think I was drawn here to find you. Maybe I need to try a different way to get you out of my system.”

Wyatt’s body pressed closer to Rhonan’s and Rhonan found himself shifting and pressing his ass back against Wyatt’s groin. Rhonan tipped his head again, bringing his lips dangerously close to Wyatt’s. “That’s funny, I was thinking about you too. Figured you’d be at the restaurant though and I didn’t want to keep stalking you in the garage.”

Wyatt let out a low chuckle, his hot breath fanning Rhonan’s face, “So you admit to stalking me, then? I do believe that’s a crime, Mr. Blackwell.”

Buy your copy now or read for free on Kindle Unlimited!

About the Author:

As a young child, CC would often immerse herself in books, loving the ability to lose herself in the magical worlds. As she grew older, she was no longer content reading about magical worlds and instead started to create her own.

She likes to explore worlds where magic is real and supernatural creatures walk among us. Vampires, angels, demons, were creatures and those with other supernatural abilities have their own challenges but one thing CC tries to remember is they all deserve a little love.

CC holds the firm belief that love has little to do with what’s in a person’s pants and celebrates love in all forms. While she primarily writes M/M,  sometimes the voices decide it’s not always so cut and dry. She gave up pretending she had control of the characters in her head long ago, it makes them all much happier that way.

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Phat Boi by Aaron Blackwood

Hi book lovers!

Today we’ve got Aaron Blackwood here with his newest novel, Phat Boi! Check it out!


Phat Boi

Cedric is a gay, overweight black man with self-esteem issues, which he hides behind his sense of humor. He has a smart mouth but is vulnerable when it comes to love. At a spiritual retreat, he meets Walter, who is attractive, masculine, intelligent and entirely out of his league. Cedric is immediately infatuated. To his surprise, Walter responds favorably. As their friendship develops, so do Cedric’s feelings for Walter. When unsettling secrets about Walter emerge, Cedric chooses to overlook them. A devastating event takes Cedric by surprise and forces him to confront the truth about Walter—his life will never be the same again.

Buy Your Copy:

Amazon | Draft2Digital | Author Website

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Excerpt

I’d met Walter at one of those spiritual retreats meant to rejuvenate your spirit and put you more in touch with yourself. Ant had suggested I go to replace a friend of his,who’d fallen sick; Ant said I needed it more than him. Maybe it would help with my self-esteem. I refused at first, of course. I didn’t need any damn course. I already knew my self-esteem was in the toilet, and didn’t need a therapist or yogi to tell me that. And for me to go by myself, without my sistah—no way. But when Ant showed me the brochure, and I saw it was a wonderful hideaway in the mountains with manicured lawns, a huge pool–which I wouldn’t be caught dead in–with lovely chalets and an all-you-can-eat buffet, I was sold.

Two weeks later, when the Metro-North train finally arrived at a deserted country station called Rhinebeck, I was glad to get off. Stiff and hungry, I was bored of seeing green fields and grazing cows, with not a Checkers or Chick-fil-A in sight. The old, hard-cushioned train seat had made my butt sore. Shoving my way down the narrow corridor of the train, I picked up my two-piece Louis Viton luggage,which I’d bought ‘bootleg’ from an African guy off Canal Street. When I stepped off the train,there was a woman in a blue dress holding up a homemade sign that said, ‘Shady Pines Retreat’. She looked like Mary Ellen from the old TV show The Waltons,but older. That blue dress is not your color, gurl; not with that pale skin. I and other passengers who got off the train approached her. The woman in the blue dress announced herself as Mary Lou, which was no goddamn surprise to me. She looked like a Mary Lou something. There were about ten of us listening to her frenzied gibberish about what a good time we’d have this weekend,and we’d come to the right place and all that. All I kept thinking was,gurl, take me to that buffet; I’m famished.

I looked around at the crew with whom I was to spend the weekend. They were mostly women. I ignored them at first to see if there was any prospective eye candy to hold my interest while doing yoga or something. Unfortunately, the pickings were poor. Two middle-aged men who seemed like uptight business types. A young hippie-looking fella with the darkest tan,long hair,and a guitar on his back. A big boy like myself, who was white, gay, and eyed me with suspicion and contempt. I guessed I’d just be buddies with the women for the weekend. Some certainly looked more fun than the men. Like Candy—named appropriately—who had big breasts, blonde hair, and a big booty, for a white woman. She was checking out our hippie friend, then smiled and winked at me when I caught her.I knew she would be my drinking partner and a good girlfriend for the rest of this trip. We clambered into the two mini-vans there to pick us up. The drivers were as cheery and effervescent as Mary Lou. Lord! I thought, I’m gonna need a drink. You’d think I was in Tennessee or Alabama, not Duchess County, New York.

I sat in the first bus, pressed up against an uptight businessman named Burt. He started to sweat. I eased off him a little, thinking I was the cause of his rapid perspiration. He was stuck next to a big black gay man, and it was probably making him crazy. I planned to do other things to wreck his homophobic nerves on this trip. Mary Lou sat in the front passenger seat next to the driver and continued to gush with pleasure, repeating what a good time we were in for. She laid out our immediate itinerary, which did not include eating. I was dying for a sandwich. Cramped and frustrated, we rode through the entrance gates of the retreat, past a big sign which read, Welcome to Shady Pines.

The van curved around a long driveway lined with tall, majestic pine trees, and stopped at the main building. Shady Pines did look as beautiful as the brochures. I stumbled out and followed my pack of fellow travelers to the banquet hall, where others were already waiting, which surprised me, because I thought the motley crew I’d arrived with was all I had to deal with for the weekend. But no, there was a diverse assortment of people waiting, some younger and more vibrant, around my age—in their early thirties. People were chatting and getting to know each other. Mary Lou told our group to leave our luggage at the back of the hall. We could collect it after the introduction ceremony and then assigned to our rooms. We were given bright yellow name tags with bold black lettering. I noticed the people already there had plastic cups in their hands and little matching plates with sandwiches on them. I looked around and saw the table with treats on the west wall of the hall. Naturally, I went over and loaded up my little plate with six sandwiches, but became conscious of Burt watching me, so I put back two.

We were all told to be seated. On the dais was the director of the program at the podium,various instructors seated behind him. They all looked trim, healthy, tanned, eager, and fucking happy. I was only one of three people of color in the room,including a Hispanic couple.But I didn’t get that uncomfortable vibe you sometimes get from white people,when they  feel you’re someplace you don’t belong—except from Burt, who was both anxious and curious around me. We were introduced to all the instructors. Each one got up to tell their story and talk about their specialty. There was the yoga instructor named Sven from Sweden—of course. He was unusually tall, with all the characteristics of a typical Swede; thin, with tanned skin and blond hair. There was Natasha the Russian masseuse. Another stereotype, she was big and burly. Her arms were larger than mine, and I suspected she was a dyke. Gloria the Reiki Master looked like she’d just had a hit of Ecstasy, and Vincent, the meditation guru, looked like he’d joined her. Frankie the lifeguard was the only normal-looking one. He was just beefy. Then there was Gerald,who would conduct various interactive workshops. I didn’t know what to make of him.

The introductions dragged on a bit too long, to the point of making me sleepy. I wanted a nap. I headed over to the table and got myself a cup of coffee.

“You’re bored already, too, I see.”

After putting my fifth lump of sugar in my coffee, I turned around to see a tall man. I hadn’t noticed him before. How could I have missed him? I’d already scoped out all the men. This delightful creature was about six-foot-two; not athletically built, but thick and solid. His massive hands looked strong, with veins running all over the back of them. His shoe size hinted at confirmation of a certain myth. His powerful cheekbones sat under expressive eyes, like a narrow ledge on a mountain. Generous lips opened to invite a beautiful smile, with almost perfect teeth.Oh! And did I mention that he was black? Nice mocha brown skin that looked like worn suede.

“No, not really,” I lied.

“I saw you yawning.”

“Oh. You caught that, huh?”

Then we both started to laugh. His laughter was high spirited and loud.

“Yes…Cedric.”He squinted to see the name tag I had been given stuck on my shirt.

“And you are Walter. Please to meet you.”

I wasn’t sure if this man was hitting on me, because he appeared straight, but I was loving the attention.

“Have you been to one of these before?” I asked.

“Yes, but not here. Shady Pines is my first time.I come to retreats to regroup and get away from the city and certain people.” I wondered who those certain people were…family, girlfriend, boyfriend…wife?

“This is your first time, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Is it that obvious?”

“Yes,” he responded quickly. “I can always tell the rookies.”

“How?”

“There’s always resistance to this sort of thing in their body language. Why are you here?” The question was bold,and took me by surprise.

“My best friend suggested it,” I blurted out.

“And where is he?”

“Home.”

“So you came alone.”

“Yes.”

“Well, Cedric, we’ll see what we can do to make you more comfortable for the next couple of days.”

At that moment, he was called away to handle sleeping arrangements. Mary Lou was beckoning me to do the same. I walked over to her and listened while she cautioned me on the rules of the sleeping arrangements. I would have a roommate; a wake-up call was given at six for those who wished to jog or do yoga, which would be at six-thirty, until breakfast at eight. As she went on and on, I only half-listened, turning to look for Walter, but he had already gone. Retrieving my luggage, I was pointed to my chalet and headed there with a light swing to my step. I had met a man. I grinned all the way to my chalet.

 

Buy Your Copy:

Amazon | Draft2Digital | Author Website


About the Author

Paris face pix2I am a passionate writer of gay short stories that touch on real social issues and inner conflict that confront gay black man. While sex is an important part of the content, its use to titillate is not abused but based on character choices and the consequences of that.
My aim is to engage the reader; entertain, arouse, move and think. I hope that my stories stimulate and leave an aftertaste for more.

My stories touch on a variety of topics that include: love, dating, sex, health, homophobia, aging, depression, religion, politics and much more.

I live in Atlanta GA and have lived in London, New York and the Caribbean. When I’m not writing or working (still have a day job…yawn), I work out, and haunt coffee shops till they throw me out. I am a night owl and write best at night when it’s quiet and the spirits are out (I’m kidding). I love to laugh and appreciate anything that’s creative.

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Dancing Men by Adira August

Another day, another hot book! Read on for the blurb, cover, and excerpt of Dancing Men, by Adira August!

We’ve had Adira here on the blog a couple times before — this new book, Dancing Men is a follow-up to Matchstick Men and a sort of follow-up (meaning, same characters/universe) of On His Knees.

Dancing Men comes out on November 1st — but if you preorder now, it’s only 99 cents! On November 1, it’s goes up to $3.99!

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Blurb:

Sometimes the past just won’t stay buried.

An ancient burial urn, empty for millennia, is suddenly not so empty.

When Detective Lieutenant Hunter Dane probes the murder at Natural History Museum, it’s his own past that haunts him. To solve the complex case, Hunter needs the talents of Camden Snow, the brilliant, beautiful, “no limits” Dom who’d helped him unravel a very peculiar, and very personal, murder.

But now, Cam’s ready to kill Hunt, himself! Their high-intensity D/s relationship that began in a playroom, ended in an emergency room.

Detective Dane is about to discover that history does, indeed, repeat itself. And his brain and body—humming with suspect information and sensual anticipation—want so much more than a killer behind bars.

For adults who love some mystery with their men. A 60k police procedural with a liberal dose of M/M heat. The 2nd of the Hunter Dane Investigations. Matchstick Men, their 1st case, also available on Amazon.

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Excerpt:

5:25pm  penance

Cam pointed to the floor of the van between his legs as soon as Hunter entered through the backdoor.

“I’m on duty,” Hunt said.

“Not in this parking lot,” Cam told him. “Or did you forget?”

“You’re hard,” Cam said. Hunter shot a look out his passenger window. Noon. And the parking lot was busy.

“That’s just physiology,” Hunter said, sounding unconvincingly stern. “I’m working.”

Cam moved a lever and Hunt’s seat went almost completely flat. “You’re at lunch,” Cam told him.  

“I don’t have time.” Hunter’s voice was hoarse. Tight.  

“Five minutes, tops,” Cam said. “It’ll just feel a lot longer.”

Bent over under the low clearance of the van, Hunter licked his lips. His eyes flicked to the console at Cam’s left. He’d positioned his wheelchair behind it at a 90-degree angle, so the items on top were in easy reach.

Lube. A jar of something. Wipes. A heavy leather strap about two inches wide and a foot long. Designed for close work. Designed for pain. Agonizing in the hands of an expert.

Hunter’s eyes widened and went to Cam’s chair. He’d lowered the arms and fastened them back, out of the way, making his lap completely accessible. A deep flush raced up Hunt’s neck and over his face. A pulse pounded in the side of his neck.

Watching Hunter’s struggle between fear and desire, Cam forced himself to ignore the heat that flared low in his belly. He didn’t move or speak. Hunter Dane must make the choice to submit on his own.

But Cam knew he would. What Hunter Dane suffered now was guilt. Over Cam. He needed to suffer for his sins, or his guilt would forever be an obstacle between them.

And Camden Snow brooked no obstacles.

Hunter closed his eyes. “Two-way street,” he whispered and dropped to his knees.

sale


About Adira August:

adira-augustTYPOS ARE MY TRADEMEARK

I write mostly BDSM EROTICA because I love exploring the power dynamics and expanding the limits of what that is for my readers. The work is EXPLICIT but not HARDcore. I write about ALL the elements. I do not make kink lists for my titles.

I went to school interminably, it seemed like. I chased down bad guys, raised children, climbed mountains, played poker, searched for dinosaurs and have had a rather large number of lovers. (I’m not giving up any numbers ‘cause TMI, and ew.)  Through it all, I wrote.

No wonder I’m so tired.

Hunt&Cam4Ever https://huntandcam4ever.blogspot.com/

MAIL LIST – http://madmimi.com/signups/357558/join

TWITTER https://twitter.com/adira_august

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