Servants of the Crown: The Turkish Pretender by Garrick Jones

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Book Title: Servants of the Crown: The Turkish Pretender

Author: Garrick Jones

Publisher: MoshPit Publications

Cover Artist: Garrick Jones

Release Date: 24 March, 2022

Genre: Gay Historical Fiction; Spy Thriller.

Tropes: Circle of Friends; Master and Servant.

Themes: Betrayal, treason, the strength of friendships and the ultimate connection.

Heat Rating:  2 flames       

Length: 124 891 words/389 pages 

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger

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The book is also available in paperback

Intelligencers: men and women from all walks of life and from all sections of society, servants of the Crown who work for the Home Office gathering information vital to the security of the nation.

Blurb

Intelligencers: men and women from all walks of life and from all sections of society, servants of the Crown who work for the Home Office gathering information vital to the security of the nation.

London, 1855. While Great Britain is at war with the Russians in the Crimea, a cadre of disaffected seditionists and insurrectionists, made up of members of the aristocracy and wealthy industrialists, have set a plan into action that’s been decades in the making—a plan that aims to overthrow the Queen and to install a puppet king on the throne in her place. With the war raging and disquiet in the industrial north and in Ireland, their perfidious plot, unless stopped, threatens to bring about anarchy and revolution.

Aware of the imminent danger, Sir George Grey, the Home Secretary, has tasked The Brothers, a band of four men, friends of over twenty years, to root out the source of the infection, destroy the clique, and track down and eradicate its foreign pretender by any means necessary. From molly houses to state banquets, from hospitals to steam baths, from aristocratic households to the meanest of slums, the friends find themselves in a succession of increasingly perilous situations.

Like the mighty Thames, undercurrents flow swift and deep as they uncover plot after plot and treachery and treason in abundance.

Excerpt

“Fetch Christopher, if you please, Elam,” Lennard said.

“What? Are you going to have me manhandled out the door?”

“No, Terrence. Christopher is waiting for me with my riding equipage. I was about to exercise my horse and I shall do so once I’ve seen to Miles. You’ve paid me for the destruction of my window and given me a promise for the carpet, but surely you realise you owe me for the mistreatment of my butler?”

“You can’t be serious, Lennard. We’re talking about chattel here. Servants are no different from your carpet or your priceless window. He’ll recover. A quick slash across the chops is a lesser thing than one of my own servants might have received had one of them tried to grapple with me. How dare he touch a person of—”

Lennard strode quickly to Astley and grabbed the fronts of his jacket.

“Let me tell you this. Although I said I’ve changed, my hate for you still burns in my chest. How dare you stride into my house, abuse my servants, and feel free to do whatever you like. Remember this before you leave. One word from me to the right person and you’ll find yourself gasping for air as you descend to the depths of the Thames, your arms bound behind your back, and your feet chained to an anchor. You’d just disappear. Like that!” Lennard snapped his fingers next to Astley’s ear.

“Have care to whom you make threats, Lennard. I’m too valuable to the Prime Minister. I still hold a seat and a loyal group of Irish lords who keep him in power.”

“Threats against other men interest me not, sir. I wish to have nothing ever to do with you from this day henceforth … not ever. Do you understand?”

“You’re making a big mistake.”

“Not so big a one as you made by appearing at my door and forcing your way into my house.”

“I shall take my leave of you. But don’t think this is over. I’ll put it about that you dishonoured your uncle’s word.”

“Do what you feel best, sir. But, by now, my coachman will have arrived with my riding gear and is waiting outside the door. If I were you, I’d leave this very moment before I grab my whip and thrash the living daylights out of you. You can apologise to Elam on your way out for injuring his brother.”

“Apologise? Why, I—”

“Oh, and Astley?” Lennard added, interrupting the man by violently releasing his jacket and pushing him backward, his knees hitting the edge of the Chesterfield. “Putting it about that I dishonoured your agreement with my uncle? Well, two can play at that game. It would not be hard to start a rumour that you’ve dealt with your ward, Neasa, inappropriately, and that’s the reason you’re so reluctant to allow her to marry into one of the most noble families in the land.”

“No one would believe that for one moment.”

“People have been wondering about your reluctance these past four or five years, ever since Sir George’s son first approached you. However, now, with my new title, I will have the ears of not only the leading members of society, but also those close to the throne. An innuendo is as good as an oath, don’t you think? Even Irish baronets who hold some sway in parliament are not immune to gossip. You’d not be invited anywhere, whether the slander is proved or not. Everyone knows Sir Hugh was not a businessman, and although the sum you offered would make you out to be a villain at the best, the premature plucking of a tender blossom before its time … why, Her Majesty would send someone banging at your door.”

About the Author 

After a thirty year career as a professional opera singer, performing as a soloist in opera houses and in concert halls all over the world, I took up a position as lecturer in music in Australia in 1999, at the Central Queensland Conservatorium of Music, which is now part of CQUniversity.

Brought up in Australia, between the bush and the beaches of the Eastern suburbs, I retired in 2015 and now live in the tropics, writing, gardening, and finally finding time to enjoy life and to re-establish a connection with who I am after a very busy career on the stage and as an academic.

I write mostly historical gay fiction. The stories are always about relationships and the inner workings of men; sometimes my fellas get down to the nitty-gritty, sometimes it's up to you, the reader, to fill in the blanks.

Every book is story driven; spies, detectives, murders, epic dramas, there's something for everyone. I also love to write about my country and the things that make us Aussies and our history different from the rest of the world.

I'm research driven. I always try to do my best to give the reader a sense of what life was like for my main characters in the world they live in.

Social Media Links

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Cursed (A Balance of Magic #2) by Jackie Keswick #giveaway

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Book Title: Cursed (A Balance of Magic #2)

Author: Jackie Keswick

Cover Artist: Jackie Keswick

Release Date: March 23, 2022

Genre: M/M Fantasy

Tropes: Friends to lovers, love vs. duty, soul mates, found family, worlds in peril, two against the world, hurt/comfort

Series Themes: the world is fragile, short-term decisions have long-term consequences, gifts are given for a reason

Heat Rating: 3 flames   

Length:  77 000 words

It is the second book in a trilogy.

The book does not end on a cliffhanger. Raijin and Sandro’s story ends on a HFN. The main story arc continues across all three books.

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Apple  |  B&N  |  Kobo

Two friends. Two worlds. A selfish desire that threatens them both.

Blurb

Two friends. Two worlds. A selfish desire that threatens them both.

Raijin killed a witch and found himself cursed.

Sandro went to Raijin's aid and became an assassin's target.

Neither expected that they would trigger the biggest upheaval their world had seen in a thousand years.

And that it needed the love between them to lift the curse.

Cursed, the second book in the Balance of Magic series, is a slow-burn m/m fantasy romance featuring friends-to-lovers who become soulmates, irate death gods, curses, inept, narcissistic politicians, curious, compassionate witches, and a found family.

Excerpt 

France, Summer 1920

“Poplars and plane trees, beeches and birches, or a mountainside of firs.” Sandro stared into the bottom of his wine glass and tried to keep the misery at bay. “Is it really too much to wish for a few olive and lemon trees? I’ve not been near my grove in six years. Six years, Raijin!”

“I know.”

“What if they’ve dug it up?”

“Why would they?”

Sandro set the glass down. “To spite us,” he said.

Raijin stared at him.

“I know, I know. It’s not like me to think badly of people.” He waved a hand. “But what other interpretation is there for the way Tan Hao treats us? Every time we finish a task, he finds another one that keeps us from the base. Do you really think he does that to everyone?”

Raijin wisely kept his mouth shut.

Sandro was grateful. He’d never been a maudlin drunk, but the last six years had changed many things. Being prevented from visiting the only home he’d ever known… hurt. Even if he’d barely spent a day alone while the human world tore itself to pieces.

Maybe he shouldn’t complain. Especially not to Raijin. He hadn’t been home for far longer, but… He lifted a hand to summon the waiter and order another bottle of wine, when Raijin stopped him.

“Come along. I have an idea.”

“What kind?”

“The good kind.” Raijin smiled the soft, lopsided smile that Sandro had no defences against.

“Tell me.”

“In a moment.”

They paid for their meal and left the restaurant, wandering up the street towards their lodgings. They had their own courtyard garden, had food, and even wine, but Sandro had been too restless to stay home, and Raijin had indulged him.

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately.” He tried to express his gratitude.

“Doing what?”

“Indulging me. I’m… Ignore me.”

“Never.” Raijin unlocked the gate and ushered them into the place they’d made their base since the Armistice. It was clean, comfortable, and private. But it wasn’t home.

Sandro had no idea what Raijin meant to do, but he didn’t have to wonder long. As soon as he’d locked the gate behind them, Raijin took hold of his arm, opened the veil and tugged Sandro through.

Two steps later, scents of brine and citrus hit his nose. Soft, springy turf caressed his feet, and one look at the familiar trees had him fight back tears.

Raijin had brought them to the top of the Custodia base. Had given Sandro what he’d most needed: a visit to his grove of lemon trees.

If he could have touched all his trees at once, he’d have done so. Since he lacked that ability, he wrapped his arms around the nearest tree, and hummed.

The trees responded, impressions wrapping him up like a cloak: comings and goings, hot sun and sparkling raindrops, a storm from the east. Sandro soaked it all up like a starving man and shared his own experiences in turn.

After the first sharing was done, Sandro went from tree to tree, touching, checking, renewing his connection. When he joined Raijin at the centre of the grove and accepted the glass of wine Raijin had poured him, he hummed with green energy, his watcher sight as sensitive as it had never been before.

“I wish I could explain—” he began hesitantly.

Only for Raijin to wave it away. “It’s fine. You wanted to check on your family. I understand.”

Raijin wasn’t demonstrative.

But when he chose to make a point, he took Sandro’s breath away.

About the Author 

Jackie Keswick was born behind the Iron Curtain with itchy feet, a bent for rocks and a recurring dream of stepping off a bus in the middle of nowhere to go home. She's worked in a hospital and as the only girl with 52 men on an oil rig, spent a winter in Moscow and a summer in Iceland and finally settled in the country of her dreams with her dream team: a husband, a cat, a tandem, a hammer and a laptop.

Jackie loves unexpected reunions and second chances, and men who write their own rules. She blogs about English history and food, has a thing for green eyes, and is a great believer in making up soundtracks for everything, including her characters and the cat.

And she still hasn't found the place where the bus stops.

For questions and comments, not restricted to green eyes, bus stops or recipes for traditional English food, you can find Jackie Keswick in all the usual places

Blog/Website  |  Facebook group  |  Facebook page  |  Twitter 

Instagram  |  Newsletter Sign-up  |  TikTok  |  Patreon 

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Just Calamarried by K.L. Hiers #giveaway

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Just Calamarried (Sucker For Love Mystery #5)

Author: K.L. Hiers

Publisher: Dreamspinner

Cover Artist: Tiferet Designs

Release Date: March 22, 2022

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Tropes: Mpreg, Wrongly Accused, Double Murder

Themes: Love Conquers All

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length: 61 000 words/257 pages

It is not a standalone story. It is book 5 in the Sucker For Love Mysteries series.

The story does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US   |  Amazon UK   |  B&N   

Blurb

Newlyweds Sloane and Loch are eagerly expecting their first child, though for Sloane that excitement is tempered by pregnancy side effects. Carrying a god’s baby would be enough to deal with, especially with the whole accelerated gestation thing, but it’s not like Sloane can take maternity leave. He works for himself as a private investigator. Which leads him to his next case.

At least this strange new mystery distracts him from the stress of constant puking.

When two priests are murdered within hours of each other, a woman named Daphne hires Sloane and Loch to track down the prime suspect—her brother—before the police do. Between untangling a conspiracy of lies and greed, going toe-to-toe with a gangster, and stealing a cat, they hardly have time to decorate a nursery….

Excerpt 

Sloane Beaumont had known and persevered through many hardships: the death of his parents, losing his job as a detective, and the struggle of establishing his own private investigation business.

Oh, and saving the world from ancient murderous eldritch gods who wanted to awaken their even more murderous father and destroy all of humanity, of course.

He was a fighter, a warrior, a Starkiller amongst mortals.

It was hard to believe he was being beaten by morning sickness.

Then again, it was crazy enough dealing with the fact he even had it to begin with, since men usually couldn’t get pregnant. Most men, however, weren’t married to a very well-meaning but ultimately irresponsible god.

“You are the most beautiful creature in all of the universe,” Loch was soothing. “Even when you are depositing your stomach contents into the porcelain bowl, you are stunning, my sweet mate.”

“Oh, by the gods.” Sloane groaned and rested his head against the toilet seat. “That’s very nice. And very gross. Thank you.”

“Here, my love.” Loch presented him with a slitted tentacle, the tip ghosting over Sloane’s lips.

“Thanks.” Sloane lightly sucked on the tentacle, closing his eyes as a rush of sweet liquid flooded his mouth. It was the divine nectar of a god, easing his nausea and the cramps in his stomach immediately.

It was also technically Loch’s come.

Though it was sort of weird to drink it so casually, it had incredible healing properties, and Sloane could use all the help he could get right now.

Carrying the child of an ancient god was turning out to be a real pain in the ass.

“I don’t understand,” Sloane grumbled as he got up to wash his face. “The first three months were great. Solved some cases, went apartment hunting, got the one with the extra bedroom I liked, got everything packed and moved, no problems. Not a one! Awesome. I didn’t get sick, I felt wonderful, I was happy. And now….” He threw up his hands. “This!”

“I’m sorry, my sweet Starkiller.” Loch frowned. “Gods don’t usually spawn with mortals. I’m not sure exactly what we should expect with this pregnancy.”

“What happens with the gods?” Sloane dried off with a towel. “There’s not much written about the actual spawning. Just that, you know, some of you choose to do it by yourselves whenever you want.”

“It can vary. Many gods mate and one will carry a spawn for nine months exactly as mortals do. The triplets, Eb, Ebb, and Ebbeth, on the other hand, were spawned directly from Baub’s breast with a mere thought. My half-sister, Chandraleth? Salgumel carried her for a hundred years before giving birth.”

Sloane paled. “I might be pregnant for a hundred years?”

“No!” Loch paused. “Probably not. It’s unlikely. You could always lay an egg instead of giving live birth. I think one of my uncles did that.”

Groaning, Sloane dragged himself into their bedroom. “By all the gods, I’ll be in a nursing home by the time I’m having our egg baby!”

Loch was right behind him and gently swept him up in a tentacle-filled embrace.

The touch of Loch’s true flesh was always wonderful and flooded Sloane’s entire body with a rush of sweet warmth. It was the touch of a divine being, and it was without comparison. Even so, Sloane’s thoughts were determined to make him miserable.

“Two words,” Sloane grumbled. “Egg baby.”

“My sweet Starkiller, all will be well,” Loch promised, kissing Sloane’s hands. “My family will be visiting soon for your Neun Monde celebration. My mother is the goddess of fertility! If anyone can help us with your pregnancy, it is she.”

“Yeah, but my ‘Neun Monde’ might not be nine months! It might be a century! When are we supposed to have it?”

“I am not qualified to answer that.”

“Is there any way you could maybe call your mom now? Maybe she can hook me up with one of her blessings?”

“I can call my sister. She always hears me. I’ll let her know to bring Mother as soon as possible so we can take care of you.”

“Thank you.” Sloane sighed in relief. “There, now I feel better.”

“Really?” Loch beamed.

“Yes.” Sloane kissed him. “I love you.”

“And I love you, my beautiful mate.”

About the Author 

K.L. “Kat” Hiers is an embalmer, restorative artist, and queer writer. Licensed in both funeral directing and funeral service, they worked in the death industry for nearly a decade. Their first love was always telling stories, and they have been writing for over twenty years, penning their very first book at just eight years old. Publishers generally do not accept manuscripts in Hello Kitty notebooks, however, but they never gave up.

Following the success of their first novel, Cold Hard Cash, they now enjoy writing professionally, focusing on spinning tales of sultry passion, exotic worlds, and emotional journeys. They love attending horror movie conventions and indulging in cosplay of their favorite characters. They live in Zebulon, NC, with their husband and their children, some of whom have paws and a few that only pretend to because they think it’s cute.

Author Links

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A Conspiracy of Ghosts by Tricia Owens #kindleunlimited

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Book Title:  A Conspiracy of Ghosts

Author: Tricia Owens

Cover Artist: Tricia Owens

Release Date: March 21, 2022

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance, Paranormal M/M Romance

Tropes: Former lovers, second chance

Themes: Forgiveness, trust

Length: 52 000 words/254 pages

Heat Rating:  4 flames       

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads 

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

Blurb 

As young men struggling to deal with their paranormal abilities, Michael and Dane found relief when they found each other. Michael could hear the dead. Dane could feel them. Together, they seemed the perfect pair. But chasing ghosts is a demanding lifestyle, and despite their attraction to each other, their tumultuous experiences drove them apart.

Eight years later, their paths cross again. They’ve been pitted against each other in a competition to exorcise a ghost from a B&B. Now that they’re changed men, Dane is determined to win Michael back. But Michael is distracted by Jericho, a ghost with the face of an angel but with a core of cruelty. A ghost who knows their deepest, darkest secrets.

Excerpt 

His recent encounter with Dane swam across the surface of his thoughts, disturbing the meniscus. I'm willing to forgive if you are. Michael had been too shocked by the statement to react to it except defensively, but he considered it now more thoughtfully. Dane wanted them to try to work it out. Dane regretted their break-up. Michael knew him too well to believe that forgiveness was the only motivation behind the come-on. Dane wanted to prove to himself that he could pull from Michael what no one else had been able to: his undivided attention.

Good for him, but Michael wasn't sure what he wanted. Seeing Dane again, this new version of him, had turned his world on its ear. It was tempting to dismiss the wild, uncontrollable man Dane had once been. With this change and with his declaration, Dane demanded to be taken seriously as a romantic partner. 

As soon as Michael allowed himself to consider the possibility, he knew he was in trouble.

Slowly, he lay back on the bed and let his hands flop naturally. One landed on the mattress beside his hip. The other fell on his upper thigh, near his slowly filling cock. After a pause and an even briefer debate with himself, he lightly cupped his palm over the growing mound in his jeans.

He hadn't taken many lovers after Dane. His longest relationship had been four months with a parapsychology student who'd begged to become Michael’s assistant despite him not needing one. But the student, Charles, had been relentless and Michael, flattered and lonely, had given in, allowing the younger man to accompany him on a handful of cases. The inevitable had occurred. Just as with Dane and all the others, Charles grew frustrated with what Michael couldn't give him.

"I feel like I'm dating someone with mental problems," Charles had stated bluntly at the end. "You should look into medication."

Embarrassed and humiliated, Michael had done so. But the doctor confirmed what he already knew. ADHD wasn't his problem. Ghosts were. They refused to be silent.

"And that hasn't changed even if Dane has," he murmured aloud to the empty room.

His clairaudience gift was stronger than ever and his interest in paranormal investigation was as intense as it had ever been. He didn't see how he and Dane could work it out no matter how badly they wanted to. But for the sake of the moment, for the sake of pretending at being normal, he fantasized about them managing it. 

Intimacy between them had never been planned or even anticipated. Michael carried the blame for that. Though he’d always found Dane attractive, he’d usually been too preoccupied to act upon that attraction, leaving it up to Dane to initiate anything. 

“Do you really not know?” Dane had asked the first time, after he’d lost patience and pushed Michael against a door to kiss him deeply. “Why do you look so surprised?”

“Because I—” Michael hadn’t known how to explain that his world was multi-layered and he sometimes got caught up in the wrong one. That is, the one without the living. He’d known even that early into their relationship that Dane wouldn’t react well to such an admission. “I wasn’t sure how you felt about me.”

“I’ve been chasing you,” Dane had murmured against his lips before swiping them with his tongue. “How could you have not known?”

Easily, but Michael said only, “I know now.”

About the Author 

Tricia Owens has been writing m/m fiction since 2000, after stumbling onto the term ‘slash’ and thinking it referred to horror stories. She is the author of the Sin City, A Pirate’s Life for Me, and Juxtapose City series, among several others. She lives in Las Vegas.

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Marital Bliss: The Complete Series Box Set by DJ Jamison #kindleunlimited #giveaway

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Marital Bliss: The Complete Series Box Set

Author: DJ Jamison

Cover Artist: Cate Ashwood

Release Date: March 22, 2022

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Marriage contract, childhood marriage pact, and fake engagement are primary tropes. Multi-book set also includes second chance romance, bi-awakening, and cowboys

Themes: Us against the world, found family, acceptance

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length: 3 full length-novels ranging from 85k to 100k. One novella of 38k.

Goodreads

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

Marriage contracts. Childhood pacts. Fake engagements.

Can these men stand together against all the odds for marital bliss?

Blurb 

Marital Bliss includes three full-length novels and one novella that explore themes of love, acceptance, and true family.

Surprise Groom: Caleb Taylor is shocked to learn his family could lose Bliss Island Resort — their home and livelihood — unless he makes use of a clause to marry the child of investor Louis Chastain. Sofia Chastain is more like a sister than a love interest, and Caleb isn’t ready to sign over his future. But Sofia has a brother, and Caleb has a plan ...
Surprise Groom is approximately 90,000 words.

Wrangling A Groom: Wyatt has wanted to marry Diego since they made a childhood pact, but life got messy and Diego slipped away. When his first love returns to the ranch for a funeral, Wyatt is determined to win him back and fulfill the promise that has never left his heart.
Wrangling A Groom is approximately 85,000 words.

Nobody's Groom: Colby likes everyone -- except the new cowboy on the crew who rubs him the wrong way. TJ is looking for a fresh start, not a young country boy who provokes him at every turn. They're both in for a rough awakening.
Nobody's Groom is a novella of approximately 38,000 words.

Faking A Groom: When Avery decides to call his father's bluff and produce a fiance, his first love, Rory, is the perfect man for the job. But with a love that never fully faded, not everything is fake...
Faking A Groom is approximately 100,000 words.

All four titles have been published individually as part of the Marital Bliss series.

Excerpt from Surprise Groom

“So, why did you track me down?” Julien asked before taking another, larger swallow of coffee. “Must have been important to brave the gay nightlife of Miami.”

Again, he was straight to the point. Caleb couldn’t prevaricate in the face of his directness.

“I came to ask you to marry me.”

Julien spit his coffee across the chipped laminate tabletop. Caleb grabbed a napkin to blot at the puddle while Julien gaped at him, brown droplets slipping down his chin. 

Finally, he swiped a hand over his mouth. “The fuck did you just say?” 

“Just for two years,” Caleb said. “Sorry, I know this is sudden—”

Julien’s eyes were wide. “You think?”

“I have reasons. This isn’t some creepy stalker thing.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Julien said. “I thought you came all the way to Miami because you were secretly in love with me.”

“No, I …” Caleb caught himself, realizing belatedly that Julien was being sarcastic. “Okay, funny. Obviously, that’s not the case. It’s a long story.”

“Probably a story you should have led with.”

Hard to argue with that. “Yeah, I guess your bluntness rubbed off on me.”

Julien muttered something under his breath. 

“What was that?” Caleb asked.

“Nothing.”

Julien shifted, his eyes darting away to study the decor. There were several portraits of famous singers from the fifties and sixties hanging on the wall. Caleb recognized Elvis, Buddy Holly, and Patsy Cline. He assumed the diner was named for Holly’s song, Peggy Sue. There were also several autographed pictures of drag queens.

Sally returned with two plates of pie and slid them onto the table. They were perfectly triangular in shape, with a thick white foam overlaying the green layer. Caleb’s saliva glands activated just from looking at the picture-perfect dessert. 

“Anything else?” she asked.

Julien shook his head. “Nope.”

“We’re good, thanks,” Caleb added.

Julien fixed him with another of those challenging looks once Sally had click-clacked her way back to the front counter. It made Caleb want to squirm in his seat.

“So you want me to marry you,” he said.

“Yes. For two years.”

“You are aware I have a dick, right?”

“It was hard to miss,” he said. 

Julien’s skimpy briefs had barely contained his swaying dick while he danced at the club. But Caleb didn’t need that image in his head right now. Or ever, really.

“This got weird.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow. “Just now?”

Julien laughed, a warm tenor that curled around Caleb. It was a note or two deeper than his laugh had been when they went through their knock-knock joke phase at age ten. But Caleb recognized it. 

“Okay, it’s been weird for a while,” Julien admitted. “But I’ll bite. Why would I marry you, and why would you want me to?”

Caleb sat back, rubbing a hand over his jaw. Now came the tough part of selling Julien on his idea. “It would be like a business deal. A job, kind of. I have a contract we would sign.”

“Okay, that’s … not any less weird,” Julien said.

About the Author

DJ Jamison writes romances about everyday life and extraordinary love featuring a variety of queer characters, from gay to bisexual to asexual. DJ grew up in the Midwest in a working-class family, and those influences can be found in her writing through characters coping with real-life problems: money troubles, workplace drama, family conflicts and, of course, falling in love. DJ spent more than a decade in the newspaper industry before chasing her first dream to write fiction. She spent a lifetime reading before that and continues to avidly devour her fellow authors’ books each night. She lives in Kansas with her husband, two sons, one snake, and a sadistic cat named Birdie.

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New Audiobook - Night of the Blood Red Moon by Patricia Logan #giveaway

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Book Title: Night of the Blood Red Moon

Author: Patricia Logan

Narrator: John Solo

Publisher: Westburg Publishing Inc (self-published)

Cover Artist: Alexandria Corza

Genre: Contemporary MM paranormal (werewolf) romance

Tropes: Fated mates, Old-fashioned britches ripper

Themes: Forced marriage

Heat Rating:  3 - 4 flames

Length: 67 500 words/ 350 printed pages

It is a standalone story, but as the series develops, an underlying, multiple-story arc will emerge.

The book does not end on a cliffhanger.

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An old-fashioned britches ripper with a tooth and claw twist.

Blurb

An old-fashioned britches ripper with a tooth and claw twist.

Being the prince of all werewolves sucks. 

Almost ten years ago, I did my duty and married a female even though I was desperately in love with an older man. When she died giving birth to a child who could never take the throne, I ran. I left home, shirking my responsibilities, knowing eventually they’d catch up to me. Well, they have. My father now insists I marry a female half my age so I can father a proper heir and secure our rule over the First House for several more generations. 

Being chosen to serve the king is a dream come true. 

Even though I grew up poor, I worked hard to support my mother. When my mentor chose me to travel to America with the king, I was unbelievably honored to meet his son, the future ruler of all werewolves. I didn’t know how to react when I first laid eyes on Prince Caster, but he cast a spell over me with a single glance, and my life changed forever. I was not only looking at my future king, but the man made just for me. The moment his lips met mine, I knew this story would end horribly…in either heartache or death.  

Denying destiny is a terrible idea. 

As desperately as I want to ignore my attraction to the common brown wolf, I cannot. The moment I saw the warm glow of his amber eyes, the need to take him into my arms and drag him off to my bed was overwhelming. Alas, I have a duty to perform, and it doesn’t involve the man Mother Nature made only for me. 

This story won’t end well…I just know it.

Night of the Blood Red Moon is a gay romance with an HEA ending. 

About the Author

International bestselling author Patricia Logan, resides in Los Angeles, California. The author of several #1 bestselling romances in English, Italian, French, and Spanish lives in a small house with a large family. When she’s not writing her next thriller romance, she’s watching her grandchildren grow up way too soon, and raising kids who make her proud every day. One of her favorite tasks is coaxing nose kisses from cats who insist on flopping on her keyboard while she types. Married to a wonderful man for 35 years, she counts herself lucky to be surrounded by people who love her and give her stories to tell every day.

Pick up your favorite Patricia Logan Book from Amazon

Check out her Audio titles at Audible.com 

Email her at patricialogan.author@yahoo.com. She loves to hear from readers more than anything and will respond to all emails.

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Cover Reveal - Venerably Daray (D’Vaire, Book 28) by Jessamyn Kingley

COVER REVEAL

Book Title: Venerably Daray (D’Vaire, Book 28)

Author: Jessamyn Kingley

Publisher: Independently Published

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations

Release Date: March 31, 2022

Genres: MM Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance

Trope: Fated mates

Themes: Love

Heat Rating:  3 flames

Length: 95 441 words

It is book 28 in the D’Vaire series and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads Series Link

Even with Fate’s blessing, there are no guarantees in life or love.

Blurb

Skeleton Lord Brynnius Daray is happiest when he’s wielding his daggers or elbow deep in flour, baking some wondrous treat. As an elite assassin, Brynnius spends his days protecting the Council of Sorcery and Shifters, and his evenings are for family. The Darays are lively and dedicated, and Brynnius loves them fiercely. However, at night he is alone, and Brynnius yearns for his mate.

Having been recently resurrected, Samson is desperate to prove his worth as a fallen knight. The trouble is, Samson is part of a ground-breaking experiment—and the new spell is flawed. Or perhaps it is the man himself that has issues. While Samson struggles to understand his purpose, he learns that Brynnius is the other half of his soul.

Although Fate has brought them together, neither man is sure what the future holds. To figure it out, they must confront the past and reconcile their present. Just when Samson and Brynnius finally find common ground, the world intrudes. Nothing will ever be the same for the Darays.

Excerpt 

Brynnius loved his job, and he had a wonderful family and a beautiful home, which he shared with the rest of the Darays. When he wasn’t fighting crime or combing through Council bills to aid Alaric in voting appropriately, Brynnius was baking. If there was a recipe for something sweet or delicious, the sentinel wanted to hunt for the ingredients.

Around him, the Darays and his larger extended family, known as D’Vaire, praised his baked treats, which gave Brynnius the confidence to continue to make them yummy things. It was fun to travel around the world to grab things unavailable within the Council, and Brynnius liked surprising everyone with novel treats. 

Brynnius was pondering whether to make the blackcurrant tarts he’d recently found a recipe for when he pulled open the door to the resurrection room inside the shared training center that belonged to the fallen knights and sentinels.

The moment Brynnius crossed the threshold, his entire body went haywire. As a sentinel, Brynnius lacked sexuality, and had no concept of outer beauty, so his dick growing hard stunned him. It was a sensation foreign to Brynnius, yet it wasn’t unpleasant. 

His mind was overloaded with the terrific smell—a mixture of vanilla cupcakes and cinnamon coffeecake. At the end of the hall, Brynnius spied Venerable Knight Arvandus Ruarc-Daray—a member of his family and the only man to be permanently resurrected twice.

Next to Arvandus was a stranger with a head full of glossy, gorgeous black curls. He was built on a massive scale. As they moved closer, Brynnius wondered if the stranger’s shoulders were even broader than his own. Although he wanted to get closer to the stranger, there was too much chaos in Brynnius’s mind for him to move. The man at Arvandus’s side was Brynnius’s mate, and Brynnius had no idea what to do. 

A beautiful smile crossed the man’s face, and there was a confused curiosity in his gaze. Since the man was freshly resurrected, Brynnius doubted he understood their connection or felt the same clamoring inside himself. 

“Fallen Knight, Rank One Samson, this is Skeleton Lord Brynnius Daray,” Arvandus said with a flash of his oft-used grin.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Skeleton Lord. I apologize that I don’t have a last name yet to give you. The Arch Lich wishes to honor my dragon and needs to speak to the Emperors in order to decide how best to do that.”

“The pleasure is mine, Samson,” Brynnius remarked softly and offered him a nod. 

Sentinels did not touch strangers, though Brynnius readily admitted to himself that he wanted to be close to Samson. It would have to wait. The fallen knight was unsteady on his feet, so Brynnius didn’t want to keep him in the hall, despite his innate desire to know everything about him and not leave his side. 

“Are you on the way to your room?” Brynnius asked.

“Yes, VK Arvandus told me to pick the one closest to the cafeteria.”

That was no surprise to Brynnius; he was aware Arvandus always offered that favored space to the first recruit. Flustered, Brynnius was unsure if he’d remembered to offer Samson a traditional sentinel nod in greeting, so he bobbed his head. 

“Good choice. Good luck with your training,” he said.

“Thank you, Skeleton Lord.”

“See ya later, Brynn,” Arvandus remarked. 

They turned the corner toward the dormitories, and Brynnius smiled at Samson, who turned back twice. The fallen knight might not understand their connection yet, but Brynnius was bolstered by his interest. It’d help him get through the next eight weeks, since Brynnius couldn’t be with Samson until he graduated. 

Brynnius was determined to allow Samson to train without distractions as Reverent Knight Drystan had allowed his mate to do when he was resurrected. But unlike Drystan, Brynnius intended to tell no one about his encounter with Samson. The last thing Brynnius wanted to do was keep his family on pins and needles with excitement over the next two months. 

After Samson was discharged from the Ascension Center, Brynnius would finally be able to talk to him again, and they’d be able to start their journey as mates. Until then, Brynnius planned on reflecting often on the extraordinarily handsome man with the unique eyes, and preparing for their future.

About the Author 

Jessamyn Kingley lives in Nevada where she begs the men in her head to tell her their amazing stories which she dutifully writes it all down in what has become a small mountain of notebooks. She falls in love with each couple and swears whatever book she wrote last is her absolute favorite.

Jessamyn is married and working toward remembering to start the dishwasher without being distracted by the scent of the magical detergent. For personal enjoyment, she aids in cat rescue while slashing and gashing her way through mobs in various MMORPGs. Caffeine is her very best friend and is only cast aside briefly for the sin better known as BBQ potato chips.

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