A big welcome to Mia Jo Celeste as part of her blog tour with Book Unleashed for Other Than from The Wild Rose Press.
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Publication Date: January 27, 2017
About Mia Jo Celeste
A big welcome to Mia Jo Celeste as part of her blog tour with Book Unleashed for Other Than from The Wild Rose Press.
I’ve added a new story to Drops of Ink!
No Place Like Home was first published in Queer Sci-Fi’s Flash Fiction anthology Discovery, and I’ve also shared it as a free newsletter short. Subscribers get my freebies first, so if you haven’t signed up, please do.
Noah and Isaac are characters from my Kiwi Psi series, and will be getting their own book as part of that series.
And the guy Noah is ‘speaking to’ has a cameo in my current WIP A Wind of Roses.
Meanwhile, if you want a tiny taste of the series read No Place Like Home.
My monthly post at Love Bytes for April is about Wellington Armageddon, my annual geek excursion. One of the highlights this year was chatting to the guys behind The Promised Land books.
Read my full Armageddon report here.
A big welcome to Grace Kilian Delaney as part of her release blitz with Signal Boost Promotions for Living On A Dare.
Stuntman Draven O’Connor never turns down a dare—even if it means getting down on one knee to propose to his former college roommate and friend. The same man he’s been crushing on since the first day they met. The same man that has grown distant over the past year. And the same man who just agreed to be his fiancé.
Julien Bouchard is tired of living a lie. He spent the past year exploring his sexuality in secret, enduring countless dates with women to appease his mother, and dodging his best friend, Draven, who knows everything there is to know about him, except the one thing that could change their friendship. Ready to face his friend, he meets him at a bar and is greeted by an unexpected marriage proposal. The dare isn’t surprising; it’s the scorching hot kiss that sends Julien’s head and heart in a tailspin—and gives him an idea for the perfect plan.
But perfect plans are never go according to plan, and news of their fake engagement spreads to their families as fast as a wildfire, forcing them to confront their true feelings about each other and hope they don’t get burned.
Grace Kilian Delaney is a LGBT writer, musician, animal lover, and author of the sweet and sexy bisexual romance Living on a Dare: A Shore Thing Novel. She spends her free time performing kitchen concerts to an audience of her two cats and a dog and loves long beach runs. Her previous books include Seven Minutes (Dreamspinner Press) and Waking Oisin (NineStar Press).
Amazon Author Page: Grace Kilian Delaney on Amazon
Mailing List: http://bit.ly/2UeYlHC
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A big welcome to Jude Tresswell as part of her release blitz with Gay Book Promotions for Ace in the Picture.
Book Title: Ace in the Picture
Author: Jude Tresswell
Publisher: Rowanvale Books
Cover Artist: Billie Hastie
Genre/s: contemporary M/M/M/M, crime/mystery
Heat Rating: 2 flames
Length: 63 000 words/ 251 pages (paperback format)
It can be read as a standalone, but is also the third book featuring the County Durham quad
Release Date: March 31, 2019
An art fraud, a polyamorous suspect, an asexual detective…
Polyamory and asexuality meet in this third tale about a north-east England quad.
The police suspect Raith Balan of faking a painting. So do money-launderers who sink profits into art. Mike, Ross and Phil, the three men in Raith’s life, must prove his innocence. They’re hampered by their certainty that a member of the Fraud Squad is corrupt.
The senior investigating officer is Detective Sergeant Nick Seabrooke. He knows he is asexual, but is he aromantic too? As Raith’s lovers struggle to keep Raith safe and find the fraudster, the sergeant struggles to understand why the quad is often in his thoughts.
Raith stood in the kitchen in front of the calendar. His gaze shifted from the naked figure depicted on ‘October’ to the highlighted ‘Thursday 12th’ and back again. He pressed a fingertip to his lips, transferred a kiss to the mid-point of the figure’s shoulder blades and ran his finger down the spine—Mike Angells’ spine.
The real-life Mike walked into the room and filled the kettle.
“What are you admirin’?” he asked. “The model or the artist?”
Raith was the artist. “The artist,” he replied. “He’s classy. The model’s okay, I suppose.”
“Cheeky!” Mike admonished.
Changing the subject, Raith asked, “You know what day it is in two days’ time, don’t you?”
“In two days? Well, let’s see… difficult one… It must be Thursday. Aye, that’s right. It was Monday yesterday, so—”
“Stop teasing me! Do you think he’s forgotten?”
‘He’ was Phil Roberts, the man Raith had married 364 days earlier.
“Don’t be daft. Of course not. You know Phil. His middle name’s ‘No fuss’.”
“That’s two names.”
“And that’s two cups of coffee. One for you. One for me,” said Mike, handing over a mug.
“None for me?” asked a third man who, yawning, had entered the kitchen. He hugged the two men already there.
“Sorry, Ross,” Mike apologised. “I didn’t make you one. I thought you were still asleep.”
“No. Just dozy,” said Ross sleepily. “I heard Phil’s car. Is it an emergency, Raith?”
“Not exactly,” Raith replied. “He went in early to cover for a colleague.”
Phil had helped to pioneer a form of rectal surgery that used nanocarbon patches to reconstruct torn tissue. He was a respected consultant at the hospital an hour’s drive away in Warbridge, County Durham.
“I’d better get sorted and get out myself,” said Ross. He was, amongst other things, a gallery proprietor in Gateshead, and his journey to work took longer than Phil’s. He yawned again.
“Are you feelin’ okay?” asked Mike, alert to Ross’s tone of voice. “It’s not like you to sound so unenthusiastic about work.” In fact, it wasn’t like Ross to sound unenthusiastic about anything. He was always lively—he personified keenness.
“I’m dead tired cos I didn’t sleep well. I had a strange text late on. You were already asleep. I don’t think you heard the phone buzz. Strange. Unsettling.”
“How do you mean?” asked Raith. “We’re not going to get involved with more criminal activities, are we? I had enough of crime fighting last time!”
Even though Mike was no longer a detective with the Tees, Tyne and Wear Constabulary, the four of them were involved in a surprising amount of crime fighting. ‘Last time’ had involved an illegal immigrant, and the tensions that had arisen had threatened the survival of the quad.
That’s what they were: a gay, polyamorous quad. They lived in Tunhead, a hamlet in Weardale in the Durham hills. Once, Tunhead had rung to the sound of workers’ hammers hitting stone. In a way it still did: Ross had turned it into an arts centre full of smiths, sculptors and potters who wanted to escape the North East’s towns.
“Well, we’re not, are we?” Raith repeated.
“Good. Well, my creations won’t create themselves. I’d better get off, too.”
In Raith’s case, ‘getting off’ simply meant walking twenty yards to his studio, a converted storehouse.
“You sure he hasn’t forgotten?” he asked Mike again before he left.
“What’s that about?” asked Ross after Raith was gone.
“He’s bothered that Phil’s forgotten their anniversary.”
“I know he hasn’t. He’s takin’ him off on a trip sumwhere—but you know Raith. He needs everythin’ crystal clear and written in capital letters. And sumtimes, so do I. What was this message about?”
Ross pulled a face and explained. When he’d done so, Mike could understand his concern.
“He wouldn’t be so stupid, Ross… Would he?”
“Not stupid, Mike, but he’s gullible. He doesn’t always think. I just don’t know.”
The message stayed in Ross’s mind during the forty-mile drive to the gallery and he couldn’t forget about it once he was there. Some of Raith’s paintings hung on the gallery walls. They were mainly of Weardale’s waterfalls. After heavy rain, the falls transformed from gentle trickles into rushing, gushing powerful forces of nature that the four men knew could kill. They’d seen them kill.
Raith loved to paint the waterfalls. From a distance, his torrents looked alive. The effect was linked to his use of colour. Raith was a tetrachromat; he could see a host of hues in what, to most people, was a single shade. He painted for himself, though, not for fame or money—he had plenty of both, due to his skill with clay not brushes. Several of his wares were on show at the gallery, most tagged ‘sold’ with a price that would feed and clothe all four men for a long, long time. His sensually erotic sculptures, modelled on Mike and Phil, were always in demand and beautifully, lovingly executed. But today, Ross gave Raith’s erotica a miss. He stared, instead, at the waterfalls.
What might induce Raith to produce a piece of work “with intent to deceive”, as the legal phrase was?
That was what the worrying message had suggested. That Raith’s were the hands and eyes behind a painting that the police were interested in. They thought it was a fake. For the umpteenth time, Ross asked himself why?
Raith didn’t need fame and he didn’t need fortune, but did he need the challenge of outwitting the experts? Of copying another artist’s work so accurately that no one would notice the difference?
Surely not. Momentarily, Ross’s dark mood lifted. The only challenge Raith was likely to rise to was the one of finding ways to spice up the quad’s evening meals. Two nights ago, he’d ‘accidentally’ stumbled near the saucepan with a teaspoon of chilli flakes in his hand.
“Oh, look! They’ve fallen in,” he’d said apologetically.
Ross smiled when he thought about it, but anxiety soon returned. Could Raith be feeling resentment? Sometimes, that was the driving force behind a fraud. Failed artists whose work had been refused once too often. Failed artists who took I’ll show them! literally.
No. All Raith’s resentments were little ones that quickly blew over—feeling nagged for not doing his turn on the house-keeping rota, being yelled at for leaving clay-covered dirty washing on top of the pile of clean laundry. Raith took umbrage easily, but he’d be smiling again within the hour. And anyway, he wasn’t a failed artist. He was a very successful one.
He was a strange mixture though. That complexity was part of his attraction. It was part of what made him Raith. His skill was undeniable, but his mental health was fragile— ‘bloody unhinged’ was how Mike would describe Raith in less charitable moments. He could be unpredictable. He could be very violent. He had another side, though, and it was what Mike and Phil and Ross adored about him. Canny, clued up, an ex-con hard as nails… but at the toss of a coin, as loving, as sweet and as trusting as anyone they had ever met. Mike was as loving, and often as sweet, but trusting? No. Mike was ex-CID. It wasn’t in his nature to be trusting.
Which was why Mike was already making phone calls.
About the Author
I’m not Nick Seabrooke, the ace in the picture, but there are some firsthand truths peeping through the fiction. Like Nick, I’m ace and happy with it, but also, like Nick, I’m wavery on that ro/aro line–and that can cause some soul-searching. If the picture painted in the story is a very narrow one, it’s because I didn’t want to stray too far from what I know. The quad, however, are totally imaginary.
I blog at https://polyallsorts.wordpress.com . There are posts about asexuality, polyamory, beer, tattoos, book covers, and many other story-related items. There are photos of the Durham countryside, the setting of the stories, too. I’m always happy to receive and respond to comments. Well, if they’re friendly ones!
RELEASE BLITZ SCHEDULE
A big welcome to Natsuya Uesugi as part of his blog tour with Other Worlds Ink for The Seer of Ice and Sky.
Exclusive Excerpt – The Mage Dalannin Approaches Captain Seih
The air whipped around the corner, and Dalannin found a sword leveled at his neck, the sharp edge of the blade cold beneath his chin. A wild-eyed stranger confronted him, movements silent like an unseen poisonous snake striking its hapless victim.
Dalannin could tell this male warrior would not be easily persuaded. There was a fierce tactical look in his eyes, expertly trained. The sword pinched closer, paining him. The blade wielder danced from the left, creeping one foot over the other carefully, both hands grasping the hilt, holding the blade parallel to the ground.
The stranger stopped directly in front of him. Dalannin felt a prick at his neck. A bead of blood escaped from his flesh, cut by the tip of the sword. The warrior’s eyes narrowed, his lips pulled tight, showing two long pointed canine teeth. Dalannin could see the red irises piercing the night, shining overcast in the white glow of the moon’s Ray’s. The blade held perfectly still but was pushed ever so gently forward… The male raised the sword and turned the blade slightly, forcing Dalannin to lift his neck. His perfect control of the blade made Dalannin nervous.
“What brings you here, elf?” the fighter accused, low and menacing. The guttural inflection of one who spoke the dragon language sounded like barking, making the elven words ring ugly. The male crossed his legs, one foot over the other, in a slow, controlled dance, stepping to the right, examining Dalannin carefully.
“I come from Akrisia. I bring a gift for the dragon king,” Dalannin replied.
The warrior’s eyes did not betray emotion. His brows lowered, fearsome as he opened his mouth wider, revealing a set of pointed teeth and canine fangs.
“I am Seih, a captain in the dragon king’s Imperial Militia, and I do not like surprises on the path to Dragonreise. There are no visitors scheduled today in Dragonreise. Therefore, you, Elven Mage, lie. State your true business. The sword angled at your throat will not hesitate to rend your head from your shoulders if I sense deception.”
Seih shifted the sword closer, piercing Dalannin’s skin again as the blade touched his collarbone. He hung there a moment then lowered the blade in a swirling movement to the shoulder… The blade pushed in and Dalannin felt a slight stabbing from its pointed tip…
Dalannin worried he would not make it past this soldier.
“Speak!” Seih shrieked. He swung the sword away trying to encourage an answer.
In that second, Dalannin launched to the left, alighting a flame on his palm. He threw the light at his adversary. Seih leapt back, releasing his left hand from the sword as the projectile raced towards him. He captured the roaring flame in his palm, gently closed his fingers over the fire, and extinguished it… Seih swiftly re-gripped the hilt with both hands, leveling it once more at Dalannin’s chin, teeth clenched, long canines hanging over Seih’s bottom lip.
“My sword years for your blood, Mage,” Seih warned, bringing the tip once more to Dalannin’s heart and circling centimeters from his chest.
“Not tonight, good Captain. I have danced long enough. Come for me at Dragonreise. I look forward to resuming our little talk.”
Dalannin chuckled, raising his right hand. “Kalima,” he whispered and touched his index finger to his lips. And with a swirl of air, he disappeared.
Seih relaxed thrusting the blade perpendicularly into the ground. The metal of the blade jerked back and forth from the force embedded in the dirt. His lips turned down in a wicked scowl.
“Your death will be a fine game, good Mage. A find game indeed. I look forward to our meeting in Dragonreise.” The raspy tones of the dragon tongue filtered into the night as Seih stepped slowly back towards the barracks, ripping the sword from the ground, and stormed back to camp.
Natsuya Uesugi has a new queer dark fantasy book out in his “The Seer of Grace and Fire” series: The Seer of Ice and Sky.
Surviving the devastation of DarkFall, Timorn is now rightful King of Faerie. With evil lurking at the fringes between the kingdoms of the humans and the elves, the dark mage Dalannin travels to Dragonreise to forge an alliance with the Dragon King.
Timorn’s travelling party sets off on request from an elven emissary but dissent grows as the party passes through the human city of Ekhrine. As they stop at the Ecclesiastical University where the cleric Kabal translated The Legend of Arden prophesy, a demonic aura haunts their path.
Can Timorn forge an alliance with the dragons to ensure peace or will darkness drive a wedge between him and his magical twin Ethesian as they journey through the elven lands. Transgender heroine.
About the Series:
A human cleric translating an elven prophesy must bring the work to the high court at Kannon in faerie before DarkFall, the solemn anniversary when all the male faerie newborns were murdered 17 years ago. If the translation does not arrive in time, all is lost. Timorn, a 17 year old ranger travels the human towns hiring out his services. A mysterious elven woman hires him to take her to Kannon before DarkFall, and only he can lead her with his purple faerie eyes.
The evil Valkyris is amassing an army to attack Kannon at DarkFall insisting she possess the prophesy. Sending her dark mage Dalannin to infiltrate faerie, he marches his demon hordes towards Kannon and sneaks into the palace. Ethesian, the 17 year old faerie daughter of King Ailon plays the dragon lyre, a female magic. Yet recently she has started having prophetic dreams as if she were male. When a lie is revealed, Ethesian is tasked to study magic she must master before DarkFall. Will Timorn reach Kannon before the Valkyris and Ethesian master a magic she shouldn’t possess? Secrets and lies, revelations and wizardry, DarkFall is coming and so too the reluctant faerie who would be king. Learn more in the first book of the dark fantasy trilogy, The Seer of Grace and Fire.
The Seer of Grace and Fire starts the dark fantasy trilogy reviewers have called “Enthralling” and “A beacon of light for readers young and old.” The series continues with release of The Seer of Ice and Sky book 2. Book 3 The Seer of Flesh and Death will be released early 2020.
Natsuya is giving away an ARC of book one in the series – The Seer of Grace and Fire – enter via Rafflecopter:
Timorn squinted as he studied the elven emissary, Arhlamanel dressed in finery, yet his stance and mannerisms were less refined then Ihel’s. He sensed deception. His ranger skill told him the elf was concealing something about his identity,
“I am aware of dragon riders, but not of a dragon king in Arenth,” Timorn said, turning to Eanna, his mother the First Consort, for confirmation. Eanna shook her head, also unaware.
Arhlamanel nodded. “The dragons are elusive and secretive, Your Majesty. Only a few high elves dare to venture up the perilous paths into the ice mountains to entertain them. It is treacherous as the dragons carefully guard the priceless gems within their lands.”
Timorn gripped the arms of the throne, leaning forward. “At DarkFall, we saw an adult dragon. A rider in black sat atop its monstrousg form. Luckily the brunt of its power was stopped before it could let loose with abandon.”
“It is as we heard. Thus, the dragon king requests you come to Akrisia, to the mountains in the North. He has sent me as emissary, in partner with the high elves, to bring you to hear his message. A party of your choice is invited to travel along, including one named Ethesian, who is also summoned. But be warned. One who wad banished many years ago has returned and is making inquiries in the dragon lands. He goes by the name of Dalannin. There is much suspicion amoungst the elves. Do you know of him?”
Timorn gasped. If Dalannin was with the dragons, that could only mean danger. Timorn spoke authoritatively, immediately deciding based on the elf’s report. “Yes, we know Dalannin, and yes, my party and Ethesian will accompany you to Akrisia. Lady Eanna will remain and keep watchful eye on the crown.”
“Yes, my lord,” Eanna acknowledged the decree.
“You must come dressed as a ranger,” Arhlamanel added. “That is how they will know you: by your clothes, your faerie daggers, and your sword. The dragon king and his half-dragon army will join you at the dragon court, high in the mountains. The trek up the expanse is arduous and will require a full day of walking to reach once we arrive.”
“Had Dalannin already recruited dragon riders to his cause? Timorn hoped for a negative answer.
“Unknown your Excellency. I hope, for our sakes and all of Arenth he has not.”
Natsuya Uesugi is a cybersecurity analyst with an MBA in International Management and a minor in Japanese. He is author of the science fiction grydscaen series, the yaoi novellas and manga graphic noiz and The Seer of Grace and Fire fantasy trilogy. He creates all the illustrations for his books. He enjoys skydiving, cosplay, anime and writing poetry.
Author Website: http://www.natsukoarts.com
Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/SeerofGraceFire
Author Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/natsuya_uesugi
Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/natsuyauesugi
Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4558587.Natsuya_Uesugi
Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/natsuya-uesugi/
Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00J6EDQQ6
A big welcome to H. Lewis-Foster as part of her blog tour with Gay Book Promotions for Strokes on a Canvas from Pride Publishing.
Can you tell us a bit about yourself and your writing?
I’ve been writing gay romantic fiction for a few years now and my stories are set in all sorts of times and places. I like to bring characters together from different backgrounds, and they’ve included Scottish clansmen, an Edwardian gentleman and his valet, and rival international sportsmen. I’ve lived in various parts of the UK, which has helped in creating stories set all over the country, from Scotland to Somerset.
Can you tell us about your new release? What inspired you to write it?
Strokes on a Canvas is set in 1920s London, where former coal miner Evan meets art teacher Milo. The 1920s is a decade that’s always interested me, especially the more bohemian side of society. I love the art and literature of the time, and the great social change after the First World War makes it a fascinating time in 20th century history.
How did you come up with the title?
Strokes on a Canvas is based around an artist painting a portrait, so the title is a direct reference to the central characters and plot. Milo and Evan’s involvement also grows over the course of several sittings for the portrait, the layers of their relationship building like oils on a canvas.
What was the hardest part of writing your book?
The most challenging part was trying to keep the story historically accurate. It’s so easy to include a word or item that simply wouldn’t have existed in that time period. As it happens, I quite enjoy the research side of writing, looking into the lifestyles, fashions and politics of a different time, as well as searching through books like the Oxford Dictionary of Slang to find words that would have been used at the time.
Did you learn anything from writing your book? What was it?
It’s always interesting—and often quite a wake-up call—to look at how different life was in another era. It can be easy to forget how much things have changed for gay men in the UK over the past hundred years. The need for secrecy, or at the very least discretion, wasn’t just a matter of keeping your social standing in the 1920s, it was essential to keep yourself out of court and quite possibly jail. Milo and Evan may come from very different backgrounds, but they both have to hide their true feelings in public.
I find love stories between men intensely romantic, perhaps because men are often portrayed with a ‘tough’ exterior in books and films. I also think there’s potential for a little more fun than in straight romances, and I like to give readers a bit of a chuckle along the way.
Do you have a favourite character and/or book you’ve written? Who, what and why?
I guess I fall a little bit in love with all of my main characters, but a particular favourite is Jim in Out in the Sticks. While he can turn his hand to anything practical, he’s also the perfect gentleman and a wonderfully caring lover and friend. His only fault is that he’s a hopeless cook, but then nobody’s perfect.
Are you obsessed with stationery? And if so, what and why?
I am indeed obsessed with stationery. As I spend most of my day at a computer, I love to take a break from the screen to write in a notebook with a nice cover. I also like writing in different coloured inks, purple being my favourite.
What are your writing and personal goals for 2019 and beyond?
I’m just happy to keep writing whenever I can. I’ve always got new ideas for stories – it’s a matter of finding the time to write them down!
What are you working on at present? Would you like to share a snippet?
I’m working on a story set in a seaside town in the 1960s, another decade of big social change. It’s still a little way from being finished, but here’s a quick snippet:
“Do you have to smoke those things? They’re supposed to be bad for you.”
“You may well be right.” Harry eased the cigarette from his lips and blew a lazy cloud of smoke into the air. “But isn’t everything you enjoy a little bit bad for you?”
“It’s been so long since I enjoyed myself, I can’t remember if it was bad for me or not.” Jake turned onto his back, not wanting to burn his shoulders. “And seeing it was only a quick fumble with you, I’m not sure it counts.”
“Thanks a lot.” Harry chuckled and took another drag on his cigarette. “Why don’t you come to York with me next Saturday? I’ve found a cracking pub with some dead posh blokes and a very understanding landlord. As long as you behave in the public bar, you can make all sorts of acquaintances.”
“I’m sure you can, but you know it’s not my scene.”
“And what is your scene, exactly?” They’d had this conversation a hundred times, but it didn’t stop Harry starting it again. “Are you going to spend your whole life working at Den’s then going for a pint at the Red Lion?”
“You know I’m doing my evening classes. I am trying to make something of myself.” Jake sat up and brushed the sand from his arms. “But I’m not like you, Harry. I can’t just walk into a pub and buy some bloke a drink.”
“Why not? At this rate, you’ll ending up becoming a monk, and the good brothers probably have more fun than you. You need to stop worrying and get out there. What we do isn’t illegal anymore. Or at least not as illegal as it used to be.”
“Try telling that to folk round here. Can you imagine what they’d say about us? This is Fenbury, not York. And it’s certainly not London.”
“Now, that’s a place we should go.” Harry lay back on the sand. “Just imagine what we could get up to there.”
Book Title: Strokes on a Canvas
Author: H. Lewis-Foster
Publisher: Pride Publishing
Cover Artist: Cherith Vaughan
Genre/s: Historical M/M Romance
Heat Rating: 3-4 flames
Trope/s: Friends to lovers
Themes: Overcoming the past
Length: 29,060 words/114 pages
It is a standalone book.
Love and art escaping the past in 1920s London
London, 1924. Evan Calver is enjoying a quiet pint, when he notices a man smiling at him across the bar. While the Rose and Crown isn’t that kind of pub, Evan thinks his luck might be in, and he narrowly escapes humiliation when he realises the man is smiling at a friend. Eavesdropping on their conversation, Evan discovers the man is named Milo Halstead and served as an army captain during the war.
When they meet again by chance in the British Museum, artist Milo asks Evan if he would sit for a portrait. Evan is amazed that an upper-class artist wants to paint the son of a miner, and he’s just as surprised when their acquaintance blossoms into friendship. When he discovers that Milo is a man like himself, he hopes that friendship might become more. But as Evan and Milo grow ever closer, can they escape the fears of the past to find their future happiness?
On the opposite side of the cabinet, a man was gazing intently at the Athenian amphora. Evan doubted he was having the same thoughts as himself as he scrutinized the naked athletes, but he seemed transfixed by its sporting design. The dark-haired man was wearing a brown pinstripe suit, the kind seen in newspaper photographs of famous actors and royalty, which Evan could never hope to afford. The stranger looked born to wear his stylish attire, his confident posture showing the suit’s fine cut to full advantage. Then he raised his eyes, and Evan saw the man was not a total stranger. His hair was smooth with Brilliantine, and he wasn’t wearing his gold-rimmed glasses, but he was unmistakably Captain Milo Halstead.
Evan was about to make a hasty exit when he realized the former soldier was smiling at him through the glass. He may have looked smarter than he had last night, but his smile was still as warm and kind as a Nightingale Nurse’s. Evan didn’t imagine the captain remembered him, but he smiled back, thinking it would be impolite not to, then turned to walk away. To his surprise, Evan’s action was mirrored on the other side of the cabinet as Captain Halstead moved in the same direction. He was still looking at Evan, still smiling, and as they both reached the end of the cabinet, Evan wondered what would happen next. Would words be exchanged? And what would those words be? If Milo remembered him from last night and he wasn’t the genial man he seemed, they might hint at blackmail or violence.
Evan was tempted to put his head down and make a run for it, but he didn’t want to attract the attention of the museum guards. He took a breath and stepped forward, only to find Milo standing in his way.
“Excuse me. Could I get past?”
“Of course, but…” Milo’s smile was uncertain now, but he didn’t move from Evan’s path. “It was you I saw in the Rose and Crown last night, wasn’t it?”
Evan lowered his eyes and weighed up his options. He could admit he was at the pub and ask to know what business of Milo’s it was. Or he could deny being anywhere near the place, or even knowing of its existence. The latter seemed the most sensible choice, avoiding all confrontation, but when he looked up and saw Milo’s blue eyes sparkling cheerfully back at him, Evan was overwhelmed by a longing to spend a few seconds more in his company.
With no idea of Milo’s intentions, Evan answered, “That’s right. I saw you there too.”
About the Author
H. has worked with books for a number of years, and is delighted to finally find herself on the author’s side of the bookshelf. She enjoys writing historical romances, and contemporary stories too, and while her characters travel all over the world, they always have a touch of British humour.
H. has lived in various parts of the UK and currently lives in the north of England, where she’s enjoying city life as much as the beautiful countryside. In her spare time, H. loves going to the cinema and theatre, and her very eclectic tastes range from quirky comedy to ballet and Shakespeare, and pretty much everything in between.
BLOG TOUR SCHEDULE
A big welcome to V.L. Locey as part of her review tour with Signal Boost Promotions for Tales of Bryant.
I love the descriptions of New York in this collection of short stories. I thought they were very vivid, and made me feel as though I was there. The motif of seasons linked the stories together well, and fit their relationship nicely too, in the different ‘seasons’ of them together getting to know each other, and building trust between them.
I liked Brian and Isamu together, and their very obvious passion for each other. I also liked the realism of their relationship, especially Isamu’s fear that talking about fidelity and confirming what they have is serious might scare Brian away. Using Isamu’s perspective to tell the story meant I as the reader learnt more about Brian as he did, although I thought Brian’s actions showed a lot about him and his motivations. I liked how he did open up to Isamu about his past, and how they argued about things and had to adjust to how they each approached life and situations that came up within their relationship and the wide world around them, rather than everything being all smooth sailing and sweet.
Brian and Isamu’s story is a feel good, sweet, yet realistic read, and although I did find there was a lot of sex for my taste, for the length of the stories it didn’t detract from my reading enjoyment.
I’d recommend Tales of Bryant to readers who enjoy a feel good sweet, yet realistic romance with likeable MCs. 4 out of 5 stars.
Four Seasons. Two Men. One Love.
For struggling film student Isamu Taylor, life’s refrain is about to change from boring documentary about a passionless delivery boy to a blazing and wildly erotic love story.
After spending weeks admiring handsome but older Manhattan executive Brian Gilles while delivering brioche to him in Bryant Park, the man of his lusty dreams has just expressed a desire to get to know Isamu better. A night on the town is just the beginning of a whirlwind romance that will span not only four seasons but countless years.
Amid the beauty and charm of Bryant Park, New York City, two men are about to discover that love knows no age or economic boundaries. This is a collection of four short stories starring these two amazing men, their one sublime love, and the park where it all started.
USA Today Bestselling Author V.L. Locey – Penning LGBT hockey romance that skates into sinful pleasures.
V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, Torchwood and Dr. Who, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a pair of geese, far too many chickens, and two steers.
When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in one hand and a steamy romance novel in the other.
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A big welcome to Dianna Wilkes as part of her blog tour with RABT Book Tours for South Pointe.
A big welcome to Beth Bolden as part of her release blitz with Gay Book Promotios for Indulge Me.
Book Title: Indulge Me (Kitchen Gods #4)
Author: Beth Bolden
Publisher: Beth Bolden Books
Cover Artist: AngstyG LLC
Genre/s: Contemporary MM Romance
Heat Rating: 4 flames
Length: approx 80 000 words
It is a standalone story.
Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited
Throughout the restaurant industry, Chef Bastian Aquino is a notorious control freak. For two very long years, Kian Reynolds has worked for Bastian as his special assistant, doing whatever he and his restaurant needs. The toughest part isn’t even all the impossible tasks he expects Kian to complete flawlessly—it’s the hopeless, endless love he feels for his older boss.
Falling for someone so far above him might be agonizing, but at least his feelings aren’t unrequited. Bastian fell in love right alongside him, but at the very beginning, they made the choice to abstain for logical, smart, professional reasons.
But love isn’t logical, it isn’t smart, and it definitely isn’t professional. It defies containment, even by Bastian. While he watches Bastian struggle with their attraction, Kian finally comes to the conclusion that he’s done.
He’s done standing off the side, done not getting any of the credit, done letting Bastian define the boundaries of their relationship. Most of all, he’s done waiting.
“I’m sorry,” Bastian said quietly. “I’m sorry I gave Xander the sous job, not when you deserved it.”
Kian had been dying for this apology for six months, but even the tender, apologetic look Bastian swiftly shot him wasn’t enough.
He wanted more. He wanted Xander’s old job. He wanted more than just the fleeting touch of Bastian’s fingers on his cheek. He wanted another kiss. He wanted even more than that.
It didn’t matter that it was dangerous or that Bastian had said it was impossible. It didn’t even matter that a part of Kian believed he was right, because there was another part of him that was actively rebelling. That part wanted more, and was not going to be placated with less.
“And you’re still going to try to convince him to come back?” Kian said incredulously. He didn’t need Xander back; they both knew it. Bastian could promote Kian and the kitchen would probably run better, not worse.
But Bastian couldn’t have looked more surprised than if Kian had been the one to walk out in the middle of prep.
“I don’t think you understand,” Bastian began, and Kian knew him well enough, knew his mental gymnastics well enough by this point that he knew exactly what he was going to say. I don’t apologize to anyone, and I’m apologizing to you. You’re special, you’re important, and you need to stay exactly where I’ve put you.
Kian had liked that place, but even at the beginning, it hadn’t quite felt like enough, and by now, two years in, Kian was tired of it and bored.
“I understand,” Kian cut him off. “More than you realize.”
Bastian’s hand dropped to his side and he flexed it, like he was trying to forget the way Kian’s skin had felt under his fingertips. Even if he never forgot, it wouldn’t be enough. Kian wanted to weasel his way under his skin, until there was nothing else between them. Until Kian didn’t know where he stopped and Bastian began. He loved him. Why had he ever thought this sort of half-relationship would ever be enough?
“I guess you do,” Bastian said slowly.
“I need to check on the soup,” Kian said and walked away.
He wanted to be shocked and incredulous that in one breath, Bastian would tell him that Kian should have had the job that was Xander’s and in the next, tell him he was getting Xander back. But the truth was, Kian wasn’t, at all.
He’d known the person Bastian was for a long time now, and he’d loved him anyway. Believing that his mother’s advice was solid, he’d loved the good and the bad parts of him, and that wasn’t going to change, at least not anytime soon. But he was done tolerating Bastian’s shit and he was done giving in.
Most of all, Kian was done being jealous of Luc for having things he never would.
About the Author
A lifelong Oregonian, Beth Bolden has just recently moved to North Carolina with her supportive husband. She still believes in Keeping Portland Weird, and intends to start a chapter of Keeping Durham Weird.
Beth has been writing practically since she learned the alphabet. Unfortunately, her first foray into novel writing, titled Big Bear with Sparkly Earrings, wasn’t a bestseller, but hope springs eternal. She’s published eleven novels and four short stories, with Indulge Me, the last book of the Kitchen Gods series, releasing in spring 2019.
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