Dane Jones works from home with only his three dogs for company. When he stumbles onto a social media page about urban exploring, he’s curious about different sites around Sacramento that seem like they’d be interesting to investigate. He starts chatting with Griff Warren, and after a few conversations he’s even more excited to go.
Griff Warren is also curious about urban exploring, but he has very little interest in experiencing something paranormal. When the guy he’s been chatting with in the online group is so enthusiastic to go, it’s contagious. They plan to go to a warehouse and while there, experience something they can’t explain.
Dane and Griff were looking for an adventure, but they find more than they bargained for at a deserted farmhouse on the river. When Dane finds an old toy discarded in one of the rooms, both of them are thrown into a world neither understands. Full of cursed objects, strange markings, and powers, neither knows how to handle. Lucky for them, Griff’s Friend knows exactly who can help.
#MMParanormal #UrbanFantasy #Friendstolovers
Excerpt
“Blake said everyone is ready to go as soon as you two want to. I think he’s surprised you were still interested after what you saw at the cemetery.” Sid didn’t look up from his phone as he talked.
“Let’s go soon, if I think about it too long, I’ll talk myself out of it.”
I could see Dane wasn’t completely sold on this idea, but I also knew how badly he wanted to know the mark he wore would protect him if he needed it to. And I wanted him safe. I didn’t want him to ever be at the mercy of another being taking control of him. “Let’s go on Thursday, we can take off early and get there before dark.”
“Good idea, it’s a slow week so we can definitely get out of here early. Let’s make sure we have everything we need so we can leave as soon as we’re done. I’d rather not be there after dark.” Sid looked at the two of us before clapping his hands together. “Okay then, if we’re all done here?”
“Yeah, give me just a minute to walk Dane out.” I took his hand and led him to the door. “Thanks so much for the coffee, that was sweet of you.” He gave me an odd look until we walked out the door and I pressed him against the wall. “Sorry, but I didn’t want you to leave without a kiss.”
“This feels like more than a kiss,” he whispered.
“Oh, it’s more than a kiss. If we were alone, it would definitely be more than a kiss.”
He laughed and bowed his head before meeting my eyes again. “Do you think we’re making a mistake going back?”
About the Author
BL Maxwell grew up in a small town listening to her grandfather spin tales about his childhood. Later she became an avid reader and after a certain vampire series she became obsessed with fanfiction. She soon discovered Slash fanfiction and later discovered the MM genre and was hooked.
Author Links
https://smart.bio/blmaxwellwriter/
Giveaway
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Tropes: Opposites attract, businessman and blue-collar worker, richer vs poorer
Themes: Dealing with cheating and betrayal. Trust is a fragile thing
Heat Rating: 4 flames
Length: 84 600 words /311 pages
This is the first book in the Hot Property Series. Each of the four books will concentrate on a different main character from a successful construction company. Each successive book will include spoilers from the previous one if the books are not read in order.
Ethan Scott has everything he could possibly want: an amazing career, great friends, and more money than he’s ever dreamed of. Oh, and men. So many men. Yep, life is perfect, and he doesn’t ever see it changing.
Nate Sullivan has sworn off men. They can’t be trusted. Simple as that. After years of being lied to by the man he thought he loved, the very married man with a wife and kids, he’s promised to never give his heart away or get emotionally attached to anyone again.
Ethan thinks it’ll be a sure thing to get Nate into his bed, but when the sexy and frustrating decorator rebuffs him at every turn, he comes up with a new plan to tempt the man he can’t stop thinking about. A sex agreement. For the duration of Nate’s work contract, with no strings attached and definitely no hearts and roses or emotional fallout.
It sounds like the perfect deal. Nate gets to have the man he’s been craving since they first met before walking away, his heart intact. Ethan gets to have Nate in his bed, finally satisfying the itch he’s constantly trying to scratch. Problem is, Ethan’s still trying to extricate himself from his disastrous marriage and if there’s one thing Nate won’t touch, it’s a married man. When Nate finds out what Ethan’s been hiding, the betrayal of trust leaves him devastated.
Nate leaves, but Ethan’s determined not to let him go. Will Nate give him the chance to explain, or will he risk losing the only man he’s ever truly loved?
Excerpt
Ethan
Pouring the steaming coffee into my usual mug, I let the rich aroma fill my senses. God, I needed this. Taking a large gulp, I savored the strong taste as it hit my tongue, the heat burning my mouth and throat as I swallowed, I hoped like hell the caffeine would kick start my body after the late night I’d had.
I plopped myself down at the kitchen table to take the weight off my aching thigh muscles from last night’s activities when the front doorbell rang loudly in the quiet space. Who the hell was that—I glanced at the clock on the wall—at a quarter to nine on a Saturday morning?
The bell rang again so I pushed my seat back and dragged my ass up the stairs and down the first-floor hallway. Yanking the front door open to get rid of whoever had ruined my peaceful morning, I was about to give them an earful, but then I looked into his face and the words died on my lips.
The man standing on my doorstep must have been mid-twenties at the most. A few inches shorter than my own six two, he wore a blue baggy t-shirt a good couple of sizes too big, almost drowning his slim frame, and a pair of loose-fitting gray jeans and black sneakers. His angular face gave him a Scandinavian look, with a strong jaw and high cheekbones. Sandy blond hair shone golden in the morning sun, short on the sides and long on top, swept away from his forehead and held in place with some product. My fingers itched to slide through the strands to see if they were as soft as they looked and a sudden image of my hand gripping tightly in his hair as I tilted his head to lick up his neck flashed through my mind.
Despite the tempting package he presented, I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away from his lips. Pink and full, they were begging to be kissed, and I had to bite down hard on my tongue to refrain from licking my own in readiness.
Well, hello, Blondie.
“Mister Scott?” his smooth, quiet voice asked, giving me goosebumps and pulling me from the trance I’d fallen into. Lifting my gaze to the palest green eyes I’d ever seen, I nodded at his question, my mouth suddenly unable to voice a coherent response. He shifted on his feet, “I’m, err, here about the painting quote.”
Damn, was that today?
He extended his hand out in front of him, and, giving myself a mental shake to wake the hell up, I reached for his and clasped his palm, my own larger hand encasing his. A shock of electricity shot up my arm catching me by surprise. The guy obviously felt the effect too as his eyes widened and he took in a short, sharp breath.
Interesting.
“Please, call me Ethan.” I held onto his warm hand a little longer than necessary before reluctantly releasing it and giving him a friendly smile.
The guy stiffened slightly and inclined his head. “I’m Nate.”
“Nate.” I savored his name on my tongue, rolling it around. “Please, come on inside.”
I stepped aside to let him enter, unable to resist the urge to lean in slightly and inhale his scent as he passed by me. Light and citrusy with a hint of soap. As he moved into the hallway, I gave him the once over and was disappointed to see his t-shirt covered his ass, obscuring my view.
Jesus. I had to stop perving on the guy. I deliberately pushed my hands into my sweatpants pockets to try to hide my growing erection and to subtly press my fingers against the head of my cock to give me some degree of control and hopefully, relief.
It didn’t.
Nate had stopped a few feet into the hallway, glancing around, assessing his surroundings, but he didn’t say anything and waited silently for me to take the lead.
“Come on,” I offered. “I’ll give you the tour, and we can talk about what I want.”
About the Author
Pauley J Ray has been making up stories in his head for as long as he can remember, and now gets to write those stories down in his own gay romantic fiction, involving sexy, complicated, and flawed characters searching for their happily ever after.
When not writing, he loves meeting up with friends and can’t wait to get outdoors with his husband, hiking, camping and traveling to new and exciting places as often as they can.
He feels extremely lucky to be able to sit at his laptop, all day, every day, creating the heartfelt, angsty and passionate romance books he himself loves to read.
“Well, isn't queer adulthood, if one is lucky, having the impossible childhood of your desires?”
― Joss Lake, Future Feeling
Blurb
Carl Young’s biggest secret: he’s always felt like Cara Young. Through the years, he acknowledged his authentic female self in ways he kept hidden in the shadows. The makeup, the dresses, the shoes -- all of them represented his most longed-for desires and his deepest shame.
When Carl’s husband Roberto comes home early from work to discover Cara in her wig, makeup, dress, and high heels, he’s shocked. Who is this person he married decades ago? He flees, leaving their home in Chicago for the obliviousness of the sunny skies of Southern California.
Cara begins making tentative steps into a world she imagined would always remain secret. She ventures out, dressing the only way she feels whole. Publicly claiming her identity, she’s terrified, but also filled with joy when she discovers there are others like her, people who will welcome her with open arms and support.
But for both Roberto and Cara, their long-term and love-filled marriage is now a challenge with which they both must reckon. Does her transition mean following separate paths? Or forging a new one ... together?
Excerpt
He tried to hold his discomfort and shivering in abeyance as he climbed the boulders at the north end of the beach and sat down on the cold and wet rock. He wished he’d worn a warmer coat because he longed to stay here a while, in the quiet, the only sound the rhythmic pull and push of the waves against the shore. There was something mesmerizing about watching the flakes drift down, disappearing into the pewter-colored water. Visibility was nil, but he could see the sun above as a white orb, a glow amidst the overcast skies.
“You know, it’s all right.”
The voice came to him more through his head than his ears. He turned.
Sitting next to him was his mother. Carl wasn’t surprised.
She was as she appeared when he was a little boy -- a beautiful woman whose Sicilian heritage endowed her with the most penetrating green eyes and the creamiest olive complexion. “And the biggest nose,” she’d probably add, laughing. Staring out at the waves, her face was unlined, her hair glossy, dark, curling around her face. She wore a mouton coat he’d remembered from his childhood. Once upon a time, he’d slip into her closet and don the coat; it was unbelievably soft and warm. Its satin lining was a wonderful contrast to the plushness of the fur. He could smell his mother’s perfume and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke on the coat.
It was almost like being given a hug from her.
“What’s all right?” he asked, almost as if talking to his younger -- and dead -- mother on a beach in the middle of a blizzard was the most normal thing in the world. “The fact that you lost your battle with cancer?” The tears welling in his eyes worried him because he feared they’d freeze. “Because, Mom, I can tell you, that is not all right.” He wiped wet snow from his cheeks. “What will I do without you? Who will I call on Sundays? Who will care about what happens to me? Who will listen now? How will I feel the hole left in your absence?”
He had a lot of questions.
She waved his concerns away. Her nails were long, blood red, just as they’d been when she was young. She stopped caring as she got older and kept them clipped short, no polish. “Don’t be so dramatic. You always were. I was old, honey. And the cancer they said they got all of?” She chuckled. “They were wrong.” She shrugged. “It happens. The big C stands for cancer, right?”
He nodded.
“Well, it also stands for cunning, because it is. It comes down to a fight for survival. I take comfort in the fact that even though the big C won the battle, I won the war.” She smiled, looking Carl in the eye. “No more host. That cancer just lost his job.”
They sat silently for a long time. Carl wondered if he’d died and now they were in some sort of afterlife. It was quiet enough. The still made it seem as though they were the only two people on the planet.
“Well, what did you mean then? What’s all right?”
She turned and reached out her hands, not quite reaching his cheeks. He wondered if she was capable of touch or if her hands would reach him as a cold gust. “You. You’re all right. Just as you are. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it. I wish I had told you this when you were little and I caught you wearing my clothes or makeup.” She shrugged. “Hindsight. But Carl, you’re okay and you will be okay. Don’t let anyone stop you.”
“From what?”
“From being exactly who you are.”
Carl closed his eyes and that caused the tears to fall at last. They made him colder, but they made him human.
When he opened his eyes again, he was alone on the beach.
About the Author
Rick R. Reed is an award-winning and bestselling author of more than fifty works of published fiction. He is a Lambda Literary Award finalist. Entertainment Weekly has described his work as “heartrending and sensitive.” Lambda Literary has called him: “A writer that doesn’t disappoint…”
Rick lives in Palm Springs, CA, with his husband, Bruce, and their two rescue dogs, Kodi and Joaquin.
Fast cars, outlaw country boys, snarky werewolves, vengeful ghosts, menacing monsters, and a love that can’t be denied.
NEW RELEASE - BOOK 2
Book Title: Sins of the Fathers—MM Supernatural Suspense
Author: Morgan Brice
Publisher: Darkwind Press
Cover Artist: Natania Barron
Length: 62 000 words/ 213 pages
Release Date: August 28, 2022
Genres: Urban fantasy, MM paranormal romance
Tropes: Hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, established relationship, evolving relationship, learning to trust, dealing with the past, dealing with family secrets.
Themes: Letting go of the past, moving on after loss, intergenerational trauma, family secrets
Heat Rating: 4 flames
It is book 2 in the series but can be read standalone. It does not end on a cliffhanger.
Reckoning with the past just might destroy Grady and Dawson’s plans for the future
Blurb
Three deadly accidents that might have been magical murder. A dark witch with a grudge against the King family. Federal agents with supernatural abilities. And, as usual, Dawson and Grady are smack dab in the crosshairs of trouble even they can’t outrun.
When Grady King’s brother Knox is targeted by shady characters, old secrets, coverups, and lies come to light. Grady and his boyfriend Dawson begin to question what really happened when Grady’s grandparents and Dawson’s parents died. Then agents with the Tennessee Bureau of Supernatural Investigation show up pursuing a different case, only to discover that the crimes appear to be connected, with a vengeful dark witch at the center of the plot. And since monsters never sleep, Grady and Dawson are still carrying out their duty to hunt dangerous paranormal creatures, restless spirits, nefarious faeries, Civil War ghosts, creepy cryptids, and things that go bump in the night. It’s all part of the centuries-old King family mandate to protect the people of Cunanoon Mountain and Transylvania County, a mission Grady and Dawson are sworn to fulfill.
But when it looks like something is hunting the people Grady loves, it’s time to dig into the family’s painful past, uncovering dangerous details of long-ago hunts against immortal creatures who never forget—or forgive.
Can they solve the mystery and figure out who’s behind the deaths, or will they bear the deadly consequences of their hidden history? Reckoning with the past just might destroy Grady and Dawson’s plans for the future and set loose a tide of malicious magic that could sweep them all away.
Sins of the Fathers is a thrill-packed MM romance adventure full of fast cars, outlaw country boys, snarky werewolves, vengeful ghosts, menacing monsters, and a love that can’t be denied.
Excerpt from Sins of the Fathers
Dawson’s heart went out to Jason, worried about his long-time partner without news of how he was doing and now afraid of being left alone.
“Lily sent us here to talk.” Grady tag teamed. “She knew you’d be upset. She also knew how much you two loved each other.”
Lily Franklin was the long-time Meals on Wheels volunteer who had delivered to Jason and Everett for many years. She’d become a good friend and was Everett’s emergency contact once Jason passed away.
A door slammed. Grady’s head snapped up, and he shot a questioning look at Dawson. Dawson reached out to take his hand, intertwining their fingers and holding their hands in the air.
“We’re like you and Everett. We understand wanting to stay together.” Dawson picked up the conversation.
The planchette trembled before beginning to move. “D-A-N-G-E-R-O-U-S,” Dawson said as the pointer moved.
“Dangerous to admit what you and Jason were to each other?” Grady asked.
The planchette moved to “YES.”
“It can be, but plenty of people are ‘out’ these days. Even married,” Dawson answered.
A framed photo rocked back and forth on the mantle. Dawson saw that it showed two men in their thirties decades ago on a sunny day, grinning with arms slung over each other’s shoulders.
“If Everett can’t come home, do you think you could go to him?” Grady asked.
The planchette went wild, circling “YES” over and over.
“Is there something here that means a lot to you that you could ‘travel’ with if we took it to Everett?” Dawson looked around, wondering what objects among the collections of a shared lifetime might be special enough to anchor a ghost.
A crash sounded from the back of the house. They headed toward the noise and found the door to a bedroom open and a painting on the floor in a broken frame. As soon as Dawson entered, he was shoved by invisible hands sending him stumbling toward one side of an unmade king-size bed.
He nearly fell, and when he braced himself against the edge of the mattress, he saw a leather jewelry tray on the nightstand, and in it, two silver military rings.
“These?” Dawson felt a puff of cold air in response.
“What are they?’ Grady stood in the doorway, respecting the privacy of the old man who had lived there.
“Army service rings. Vietnam, if I’m right.” Dawson picked up the rings and looked at them in the light.
“Lily said they met when Everett was a nurse at the VA hospital, and Jason came home wounded from the war,” Grady replied.
Dawson’s gaze went to a photo of a younger version of the two men standing together in uniform. They were circumspect in their pose, but Dawson imagined that he could see a slight lean, a bit less space between them than usual, and broad grins.
That could have been Grady and me if we’d been born then. I’m glad they found each other and were happy.
Fast cars. Outlaw country boys. A love that can’t be denied.
Snarky werewolves, vengeful ghosts and menacing monsters.
Blurb
Fast cars. Outlaw country boys. Snarky werewolves, vengeful ghosts, and menacing monsters.
Dawson King’s family has been hunting things that go bump in the night in Transylvania County, North Carolina, since before the Revolutionary War.
Dawson was never happier than when he was racing his souped-up Mustang along winding mountain roads and hunting monsters with his best friend, Grady. Then Grady fell in love with him, which should have been perfect since Dawson had already fallen hard for Grady.
But Grady was only seventeen, and Dawson feared that sooner or later, Grady would realize his feelings were just a first crush, and then he’d be gone, leaving Dawson devastated. They both needed space to figure things out. So Dawson joined the army, while Grady stayed on the mountain.
Four years later, Dawson is coming home. He’s more sure than ever Grady is his forever love, and they’ve both agreed to begin this new aspect of their relationship as soon as Dawson gets back.
Then Grady’s father is killed in a werewolf hunt gone wrong. Grady is devastated, and he’s throwing mixed signals about moving forward. Dawson knows he needs to hold off on this new thing between them until Grady has time to grieve. But monsters never sleep, and one hunt after another throws Dawson and Grady into constant danger, while tension and unresolved feelings ripple between them.
Making it even harder, Dawson’s got a secret. He’s dreamed of death omens—which point to something stalking Grady. Can Dawson figure out who’s trying to kill Grady, save his life, and win back his heart?
Plenty of mutual pining, hurt/comfort, spooky chills, sexy thrills, and a very happy ending. The Kings of the Mountain is the first novel in the series. It is a MM romance intended for readers 18 years of age and older.
Excerpt from Kings of the Mountain
The longer they spent time on the road and on hunts together, the more Dawson felt a powerful attraction to Grady. He’d always been fond of the younger man, but Dawson found himself admiring the person Grady was growing into. Grady deserved to find the right guy—if that’s what he wanted—who could make him happy. And as much as Dawson wished fervently that could be him, he knew he couldn’t take the chance that Grady might feel pressured or obligated to respond if Dawson made any advances.
Not to mention how Grady’s mother had always carried on about how awful it was to marry a “cousin,” something that she claimed no one in her family had ever done. She’d made her position loud and clear while she was married to Aaron, which had not endeared her to the rest of the community. Such marriages were legal in North Carolina, and not uncommon in the rural areas.
The fact that Grady wasn’t a cousin by blood probably wouldn’t matter to Camille. But what if Grady had accepted his mother’s bias? Maybe Dawson had imagined the flirtation, or worse, projected his own feelings onto the other man. So Dawson took the edge off with hookups and out-of-town one-night stands, very aware that he tended to choose partners with a resemblance to Grady.
Until he couldn’t stand it any longer.
That’s when Dawson enlisted.
Once they were on the main highway, Dawson turned to watch Colt’s profile.
“So…what happened with Uncle Denny and Grady?”
Colt’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, and the tic in his jaw told Dawson that the other man didn’t want to have this conversation. “They’re both alive. But a hunt went wrong a week ago, and Grady isn’t dealing with it very well.”
A week, Dawson thought. That was when he’d stopped getting emails from Grady. He had tried to convince himself the silence was due to any number of impersonal reasons, but Dawson knew in his gut something wasn’t right. His responses from Uncle Denny had gotten short and less frequent around the same time.
Was this what his nightmare had been warning him about?
“Could you be a little clearer?” Dawson knew Colt could read the warning in his tone.
“Grady got hurt. Aaron was killed. Grady’s not dealing well with it. Uncle Denny didn’t want to leave Grady alone. So they sent me.”
Dawson’s head swam. Uncle Aaron, dead? That’s hard to even imagine. He was always so full of life. And Grady—it’s got to be bad if he couldn’t come. Oh, God. I almost lost him. Plus there’s something Colt isn’t saying, something even worse. Because if Uncle Aaron died on a hunt, then Grady had to have been right there when it happened. That’s bad, really bad. No one should see their parent die, especially not like that.
About the Author
Morgan Brice is the romance pen name of bestselling author Gail Z. Martin. Morgan writes urban fantasy male/male paranormal romance, with plenty of action, adventure and supernatural thrills to go with the happily ever after. Gail writes epic fantasy and urban fantasy, and together with co-author hubby Larry N. Martin, steampunk and comedic horror, all of which have less romance, more explosions. Characters from her Gail books make frequent appearances in secondary roles in her Morgan books, and vice versa.
On the rare occasions Morgan isn’t writing, she’s either reading, cooking, or spoiling two very pampered dogs.
Series include Witchbane, Badlands, Treasure Trail, Kings of the Mountain and Fox Hollow. Watch for more in these series, plus new series coming soon!
There are a few things Nolan Ouellet has come to accept about himself.
One: that his future with the NHL was irrevocably destroyed thanks to his reckless actions as a teenager destroying his knee.
Two: that he will never fall in love because the very idea of it sends his skin crawling.
Three: he will bed as many NHL players as humanly possible before he retires his game.
And four: he will never apologize for who he is and what he wants.
Then two men come barreling into his life and turn everything he knows upside down.
He still won’t play for the NHL, and he still won’t change who he is because he’s fought too long and too hard to accept his identity. But suddenly his future is starting to look a little different than he originally planned.
And that scares the absolute hell out of him.
When he met Marko Rudenko and Luka Wagner—two veterans of the Denver Huskies—they were supposed to be a game, just like everyone else. But now all he can think about is how to keep them around without compromising the person he’s become and ruining the love Marko and Luka have for each other.
Excerpt
“Is there going to be a fight?” Nolan asked.
The guy scoffed, glancing at him. “Worse. Hockey players.”
Nolan’s heart rammed against his chest. Not that it could possibly be Marko or Luka, but he hadn’t seen or spoken to either of them since the awkward incident at the rink. He hadn’t even been letting himself think about it.
He swallowed thickly. “They come in here a lot?”
“Every once in a while,” the guy said, then lowered his voice. “Mostly because it’s the furthest thing from a sports bar so no one’s going to notice if they take someone home.”
Nolan heard that for the warning it was: keep your mouth shut. The guy might not love having professional athletes in his bar, but he also knew it was good for business.
He forced himself not to look, bowing over his drink. “Tell me when it’s safe to escape, and close out my tab.”
“Actually, put his drink on ours.”
Nolan’s entire body froze.
Fuck. Fucking shit fuck shit.
He would have recognized Luka’s voice even if he was concussed and under water. His throat went tight, but he tried to offer something like a smile, though given how wide Luka’s eyes were behind his glasses, he realized he was probably grimacing.
His heart sank even lower when another body slid up against Luka’s and stared him down. “You don’t answer call or text. We think maybe you died.”
Yeah, okay. He did kind of deserve that. He’d just left Marko hanging like an asshole, and the guy didn’t deserve it. But he also didn’t deserve Nolan’s mess when it was obvious Marko and Luka were both capable of a love that straight up repulsed Nolan down to his core.
“You know these guys?” the bartender asked. He crossed his arms over his chest in a protective way, and Nolan felt a pulse of affection for the total stranger.
“No. We don’t know him. He’s total weirdo who stalk us,” Marko said.
Luka elbowed him hard. “Stop being an asshole. Yes, we know him.”
Nolan sighed and gave a nod. “Old friends. In fact, put their drinks on my tab. Get them each one of these,” he said, tapping his glass.
Both Marko and Luka started to protest, but the bartender ignored them both with a shrug and walked off to fill the order.
“Why you being child?” Marko demanded.
“Pretty sure a child couldn’t afford a twenty-six-dollar glass of bourbon for his two friends,” Nolan fired back.
Luka’s brows shot up, and he shoved his glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose. “Why the fuck are you drinking that?”
“Because it tastes amazing,” he said. And because I can afford it now thanks to a slew of online strangers who pay me to shove dildos up my ass. But he wasn’t going to say that part aloud as tempting as it was. “You don’t want it?”
As if summoned, the bartender arrived with three new glasses, and Nolan took his, watching the other two out of his periphery. Marko showed no hesitation when snatching up his, but Luka was a little more hesitant.
“It’s not poisoned,” Nolan grumbled.
Marko sighed, then hip-checked Luka out of his way and sat on the wooden stool. It groaned under his impossibly thick layers of muscle, and Nolan tried not to stare at the way his arms flexed as he laid one on the bar top and used the other to lift his glass to his mouth.
“Okay, we talk about weird moment, or we just get drunk and pretend it never happen?”
Nolan didn’t think the fucker was just going to come out with it like that. Guilt slammed into him as he looked over at Luka and wondered if this was some sort of confrontation because Nolan had flirted with them both and gotten a little too close to Marko recently. He swallowed down another delightfully spiced mouthful of liquor.
“Should I get drunk for this conversation?”
“Looks like you’re already halfway there,” Luka pointed out. He wedged himself between Marko and Nolan, leaning his elbow on Marko’s shoulder in a gesture that telegraphed they were together.
As they should be, Nolan thought bitterly, but he wasn’t feeling particularly generous considering how badly he wanted them both. “Yeah, well. I came here to drink my feelings.”
“Mm. You should try feelings burritos,” Marko said. “Is much better. No hangover.”
“Nah, just burrito farts,” Luka said, then laughed when Marko rolled his eyes. “Please, you know it’s true. There’s a reason we don’t sleep together when you and Ravi have burrito night.”
Nolan felt his ears go red, and he had to look away. He didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with him because, for an aromantic asshole, he loved watching the people he cared about living their best lives. So why did it force bile up his throat to think about losing these two to each other?
They wanted things that made his skin crawl.
He jolted slightly when warm fingers touched his wrist, and he took a breath before he returned his attention to the two men. “I’m still firmly team bourbon.”
“Are you still team Luka and Marko?” Luka asked so quietly Nolan mostly had to read his lips over the music.
He swallowed heavily. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because you stop talking to me,” Marko said, his booming voice rising over the music. “We have moment, then you just leave. And then”—he sucked in air through his teeth—“nothing.”
About the Author
E.M. Lindsey is a non-binary writer who lives in the southeast United States, close to the water where their heart lies.
Life as a servant of death has its challenges. But the biggest one of all is Silas’s daemonic guardian, Pitch.
Blurb
Silas Mercer is a dead man walking.
And the mysterious Order of the Golden Dawn have big plans for their newest ankou and his deathly bandalore.
Life as a servant of death has its challenges.
But the biggest one of all is Silas’s daemonic guardian, Pitch.
He may look like heaven, but he’s making Silas's life all kinds of hell.
The daemon is arrogant, egotistical and his appetite for violence and tea cakes is fast outgrowing the small village where they have been recuperating since their run-in with Black Annis.
Now, the increasingly unstable Blight is causing new havoc, and fresh monstrosities are emerging.
Pitch and Sickle are back in the saddle, and on their way to the haunted Forest of Dean.
But can Silas rely on his guardian’s protection?
Or will Pitch prove to be the most dangerous encounter of all?
BOOK 3
Book Title: The Skriker - Pitch & Sickle Book Three
Length: 369 pages
Release Date: October 20, 2021
Genres: MM Fantasy, Gaslamp Fantasy, Historical Fantasy
Silas Mercer has faced wily boggarts, mad faerie queens and enraged forest spirits. But can he withstand a daemon who is losing his mind?
Blurb
Silas Mercer has faced wily boggarts, mad faerie queens and enraged forest spirits.
But can he withstand a daemon who is losing his mind?
Pitch and Sickle are left bruised, battered and reeling after their confrontation with the Verderer.
They have learned a startling truth behind the arrowhead that wounded Silas, a truth that must be taken to the Lady Satine and the Order without delay.
But his encounters in the Forest of Dean have effected Pitch in alarming ways. The daemon’s body may have healed but his erratic behaviour and wildly unpredictable temper grow ever more concerning.
Silas owes his life to Pitch. Their experience in the forest has brought them a closeness he could not have imagined possible.
But what can he do for a daemon who is losing his way?
And how long will Silas survive, if he must ride alone?
BOOK 4
Book Title: The Greensward - Pitch & Sickle Book Four
Length: 412 pages
Release Date: April 13, 2022
Genres: MM Fantasy, Gaslamp Fantasy, Historical Fantasy
The Lady’s Horsemen are riding out once more. Carrying death’s scythe to where tormented souls linger.
But what awaits them in a world where divine magick has returned?
Blurb
The Lady’s Horsemen are riding out once more. Carrying death’s scythe to where tormented souls linger.
But what awaits them in a world where divine magick has returned?
Pitch is recovered from the injuries he received in the Forest of Dean, and Silas won’t soon forget the part he played in setting his guardian back on his feet.
The ankou and the daemon have been reunited in a most unexpected and intimate way, but barely have they caught their breath when a new threat arises.
A tortured spirit is frightening both the living and the dead along the roads of Devon.
But is this soul a monster that must be stopped, or another pawn in the necromancer’s mysterious game?
With Azazel’s magick re-emerging after hundreds of years, maleficium plagues the world once more. But who is wielding the forbidden arcane magick of the angels?
Do they work alone?
And why are they so intent on harassing the Lady’s Horsemen?
Silas has never felt stronger, or more determined to live up to the Order’s high expectations. He’s faced the walking dead, outwitted the enchanted Hall, and gained an ally in the skriker.
But he’s not sure he’s equipped to handle his growing attraction to a troubled daemon.
And Silas fears that getting any closer to Pitch and his tragic secrets may prove as dangerous as the monsters they are riding to face.
Excerpt from ‘The Bandalore-Pitch & Sickle Book One’
A rather pretty gentleman, sharp featured, pale and fine, stepped into the room with a flourish of raised hands. His tousled light brown hair was wild about his shoulders, and his eyes so green it was as though emeralds had been pressed into the sockets. ‘Let the amusements begin…or should I say…continue.’
His velvet coat, a red almost as bold as the woman’s lips, was unbuttoned, revealing a black shirt with a silver brocade of Chinese dragons upon it. An elaborate ruffling of silk tumbled from the collar and covered a good portion of his chest. His choice of trousers was equally curious, a rather outdated fall-front style in black silk.
The baron groaned, but his smile was ever-present. ‘Good god, man, we thought you two would never be done.’
‘Perfection takes time, does it not?’
‘Take your seat, you rascal, and stop your showmanship, at least just for a moment.’
Silas scratched his right palm absently, attempting to stymie the prickle. Like many things about himself he wasn’t certain of his age, his late twenties was likely, much the same as the man who had just swept into the room.
Mr Astaroth tilted his head, pursing lips that held a near-perfect Cupid’s bow. ‘Am I to stand aside so another showman can perform?’
‘Exactly,’ the baron declared.
As Mr Astaroth made his way to his seat with his companion, he had a notable effect on those in attendance. The ladies all at once seemed incapable of deciding how they should adjust their gowns upon their seats, and the men were equally as fidgety. All of them were fixated on Mr Astaroth’s procession across the room. The man had not spared Silas a glance yet, even when he was deriding him, and Silas had no issue with that at all. He was not sure he’d enjoy the pierce of those green eyes upon him. But he could not deny there was indeed something mesmerising about the lad, the sway of his hips, the coiled tension in his body that gave the impression he might suddenly leap unannounced in any direction.
Mr Astaroth stopped to take a glass of champagne from the tray offered by a somewhat flustered young footman. The liquid wobbled in its crystal confines, and the boy’s eyes darted so quickly between the floor and the man before him, it was as though he’d lost control of his eyeballs.
‘Thank you, kind sir. What a wonderful job you do.’ Mr Astaroth’s smile was discomfortingly suggestive, his whispered appreciation of the boy’s offering far too intimate, and the serving boy nearly stumbled over his own feet to move away.
Mr Astaroth was slender, not remarkable in height, and the angles of his face were delicate to the point of being feminine, but he held a presence that quite overwhelmed the room. Silas’s gaze moved down the length of the man’s body to his feet. He wore heeled boots, which meant he was shorter than first impressions allowed. The glean of polished leather distracted Silas from what became startlingly obvious a moment later. He tensed and closed his eyes a second, as though that might change things. But alas it was not to be.
The ground at Tobias Astaroth’s feet held no shadow.
Whoever this man was, he was not, for all intents and purposes, human. Silas took hold of the arms of the chair, filled with the sudden desire to depart. No one had thought to instruct him on an encounter such as this.
‘Stop frightening the help and get your arse on a chair,’ declared the bespectacled man at Silas’s left. ‘We know how you hate to have attention diverted from you, so do try and behave, Pitch old boy.’
Evidently the group knew the man well enough to have endowed him with a nickname. Silas could only imagine its origins.
‘Oh Brenton,’ Victoria, Mr Astaroth’s companion, said. ‘As far as I’m concerned, Tobias has been on his best behaviour all evening.’ She had taken her seat and leaned her elbows upon the table, utterly at ease.
‘Thank you, my dear,’ Mr Astaroth said. ‘You are as sensible as you are extremely talented in the art of, what were we calling it? Tarot reading.’ He tilted his glass towards her before turning to Silas. The air quite vanished from Silas’s lungs beneath the daggers of his emerald stare. ‘How very nice to make your acquaintance, Mr Mercer. I do hope we are in for a wonderful show.’
Book 5 - Coming Soon - October 20, 2022
The Fulbourn - Pitch & Sickle Book Five: The Diabolus Chronicles
When the King of Daemonkind comes to call, be ready for hell to follow.
After Lucifer’s disturbing visit, the quest to destroy the Blight takes on a desperate urgency.
Finding Lieutenant Edward Charters is paramount.
But what role does a mortal man play in Seraphiel’s dangerous game?
The angel has sent Pitch a talisman from beyond the grave, a seemingly innocuous watch that may be the key to ending the Watcher King’s dark legacy. But to learn its secret Pitch and Silas must find the man intended to carry it.
As the search for the lieutenant begins, the Horsemen find themselves gifted with something more precious than any angelic token. An evening of unexpected freedom. A night that will deepen their intimacy and bring long-stifled feelings to the fore.
But what price will they pay for choosing breathless pleasure over rigid duty?
The Morrigan have not forgiven the destruction at the greensward. They are prepared to do whatever it takes to rid themselves of the Horsemen and heed the Watcher King's ghostly call.
The Fulbourn is Pitch and Silas's greatest threat yet. A place that will drive them into the depths of their most terrible fears and seek to tear them apart.
They are closer than ever before but will that fragile new bond be enough to save them? Or have the daemon prince and his ankou found the nemesis that will destroy them once and for all?
The Diabolus Chronicles is a slow-burn MM Gaslamp Fantasy series that contains on-page sex scenes, gore and violence, and rather a lot of cursing.
This is the fifth book in the on-going series.
About the Author
Danielle K Girl is an Aussie who lives in stunning Tasmania with her three furkids, cats Luffy, Sweetie and Ren.
Her idea of heaven is a farm full of rescue animals, with a vegie garden that sprouts peanut M&M’s and chocolate wheaten biscuits.
When she’s not keyboard-deep in mysterious, beguiling worlds, she is binge watching K-Dramas, listening to K-Pop or hiking through the beautiful Tasmanian wilderness.
