Thursday, 9 April 2020

Cover Reveal - Charity Anthology - Working Stiffs


COVER REVEAL


Book Title: Working Stiffs (A collection of short stories)

Authors: 

Bad Blood by Lyra Evans

Bad Decision by H.L Day

Call My Number by Megs Pritchard

Dial a Vamp by Roberta Blablanski

Fangs for the Memories by Sadie Jay

Fire and Ice Cold Skin by Mel Gough

How To Keep an Author (Alive) by AJ Sherwood

Graveyard Cops by Crystel Greene

Life Hacks by Eliott Griffen

Long Haul by Tanya Chris

Off the Menu by R.J. Sorrento 

Overexposed by K. Evan Coles

Quality Assured by Edie Montreux

Genre: Paranormal MM Romance

Trope/s: Vampires, workplace romances

Length: 13 stories

Heat Rating: Varies from story to story - between 2 and 5 flames

 

Sometimes work sucks in a good way

Blurb

Not all vampires are idly rich. Some of them have day jobs. Er, night jobs.

In a world struggling to come to grips with the existence of vampires, where reactions range from excitement to fear to determined disbelief, these vampires are just trying to make ends meet. Some of them do mundane work—like waiting tables or driving a cab. Others have more prestigious careers in medicine and crime prevention. But what all their jobs have in common is people. Unpredictable, interesting, frustrating, hostile, helpless, tasty people.

Whether they’re pouring drinks, answering phones, hacking into a computer system, or serving up the perfect food/wine pairing, these working stiffs are too busy to fall in love. Or are they?

This International Workers Day, celebrate by sinking your teeth into thirteen awesome stories about vampires at work. Because even the undead have to earn a living.

Proceeds benefit the World Health Organization’s COVID-19 Solidarity Response Fund.




Excerpt from Fangs for the Memories by Sadie Jay

I tried to not stare but I couldn’t help myself. He was exactly the same except his long white hair was streaked with a rainbow of colors and pulled up into a messy bun. An inch taller than my five foot nine, he was straight and lanky. There was no curve to him at all, not an ounce of fat. Under the sleeves of his dress shirt, I pictured his ropey forearms with raised veins, easy to trace with a fingertip, while his hip and rib bones would be well defined under his skin. I admittedly have a thing for skinny men.

I still saw his translucent albino skin in my dreams, and his silvery blue eyes that darkened with anger. Or with desire. His feathery white eyelashes, his straight nose, his thin lips framing his over-wide mouth. When I’d met him, back when I was 19 and taking night classes, I thought he was the most exotic, beautiful person I’d ever met.

He still was.


Excerpt from How to Keep an Author (Alive) by AJ Sherwood

“I need to know how to tie a person down like this on the table and make it realistic. I mean, can I tie down both legs? Or would that make it too awkward for the attacker?”

Rubbing at my forehead, I tried for patience. “Coop. I’ve never tied someone down for sex. I have no idea.”

He came up on an elbow, looking at me curiously. “Really? Oh, right, the vampire-sexual-feeding thing. How does that work, anyway?”

“There’s a mild aphrodisiac in our saliva that—you know what, I’m not having this conversation with you.”

Cooper didn’t pout, but it was a near thing. He loved asking me questions about vampirism and how it all worked. Often inappropriate questions, at that.

“Okay, tell me later. For now, come help me figure this out. I’m stuck on this scene until I do.”

After two months of dealing with these sorts of weird requests, I’d more or less become immune to them. At least he hadn’t tried to smother me in my sleep again. It made sense that he’d gone through a housekeeper every month before my arrival. A lot of the help he asked for bordered on sexual harassment. Like now. He honestly didn’t mean it that way, though, which was why I was willing to play along.

Shrugging, I abandoned my wall perch to come forward. “You said the potential victim is a man?”

“Yes.” Cooper smiled, delighted I was cooperating.

“Hmmm. Yeah, I don’t think you can tie both legs down.” Knowing he would prefer a hands-on approach, I grabbed the leg tied down and hoisted it up as much as I could. “And even this is too tight. I can’t roll your hips up and into position like this. And think, too, pants have to come off, at least partway.”

“All very good points and what made me wonder. The few times I’ve had anal sex—”

I about swallowed my tongue. Just what had he casually confessed?!

“—I was on hands and knees, so I wasn’t sure.” Cooper did an awkward half-crunch. “So, say my character is in this position. Loosen that rope, let me see how much play has to be there. Yeah, okay, like that. Can you—”

This man, seriously. He was bad for my heart. He kept tapping into emotions I didn’t know I had, and he did it effortlessly and in strange ways that ambushed my guard. I liked him. I knew I did, but it was a precarious situation. I had no idea how he felt about me because his behavior was so oddball, I found him impossible to read.

Take this situation right now. Someone with a crush would use this situation to perhaps slyly flirt or signal their interest. But he was just trying to experiment and prove a point. Right…? I think. It left me in a strange emotional limbo because I didn’t know how to react to him. I knew what he wanted me to do, but I hesitated, because I had a feeling something would change if I did. If I even mimicked having sex with him, it would unlock a door in my head I’d kept chained shut. And yet.

And yet.

I moved like I’d been hypnotized, because touching him like that was too much of a temptation. Even with clothes in the way. I moved in and set my groin against his ass, lifting his legs up to make the position possible. It looked awkward and uncomfortable on his part.

Cooper’s expression didn’t betray any awkwardness, though. His lips parted as he stared up at me with a sort of bludgeoned surprise. A blush spread across his pale skin, and his breath quickened a touch.

An impulse stole over me—to lean in, to close the gap between our bodies, to get him off this damn table. He was all warm skin, the heat of him pouring into me even through our jeans. I could feel his leg twitch, the urge to wrap around my waist clear, and I wanted that quite badly. Oh god. Oh god, he was attracted to me after all. That reaction was unmistakable. But did that mean I should act on it? He was still my employer. What if this went very, very wrong?

“Should I leave?”

The female voice startled me so badly I dropped Cooper’s legs. 
  




 

Wednesday, 8 April 2020

New Release - You Or No One by Olivier Bosman

BLOG TOUR


Book Title: You Or No One

Author: Olivier Bosman

Publisher: Rocket Man Press

Cover Artist: A Pradipta

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Royalty/ Fairytale

Themes: Opposites Attract/Fish Out of Water/Cinderella Story

Heat Rating: 2 flames

Length: 42 000 words

It is the first part of the Doggerland trilogy




Buy Links



 
Is the world ready for an openly gay king and his prince consort?


Blurb

Joel is happy, confident and working class.

Eric is shy, insecure and a member of one of the oldest aristocratic families in Europe.

When they meet in university sparks fly.

They say opposites attract, but when Joel discovers that Eric is the crown prince and future king of Doggerland, he starts having doubts.

They want to get married. They think their greatest battle will be convincing the King and the Prime Minister to give their consent. But estranged relatives coming out of the woodwork, intrusive tabloid press, and the traditional, stifling lifestyle of the aristocracy conspire against them.

Are Joel and Eric secure enough in themselves and each other to overcome a world which is not as tolerant as they thought?






Excerpt

I got up early that morning. I entered the breakfast room five minutes after it opened. I wanted to beat Eric to it. I wanted to be the one to tell him to fuck off when he pulled up a chair at my table. I sat at my table at five past, sipping coffee and nibbling on a croissant. I was engrossed by that croissant. How did they make them so delicious? I was busy dissecting the different pastry layers when a voice suddenly spoke to me.

"Mother never taught you not to play with your food?"

It was Eric, towering over me. His rosy face looked freshly scrubbed, his hair tightly combed, his white silk shirt freshly ironed, his beige chinos pressed. Before I could do anything to prevent it, he pulled up a chair and sat down before me.

"Where is Petra?" I asked.

"She’s gone to her friend’s hen do. Probably won’t see her again till Christmas."

He lifted his arm and clicked his fingers at the waiter. "Coffee, please. Black. And... um... eggs. Scrambled." Then he shooed the waiter away with his hand.

How rude, I thought. This was a side of Eric I hadn’t seen before.

"How was your little drive yesterday?" I made no attempt at hiding the bitterness in my voice.

"It was good. We drove along the coast and had a long good chat."

"What about?"

"About you, as it happens."

"Me?"

He sat up and cleared his throat. "I... um... I want to ask you a question. I wanted to ask you last night in your room. But you were sleeping."

"What do you want to ask?"

He hesitated for a few beats. Then he blurted it out. "Would you like to marry me?"

Well! I don’t need to tell you that I was shocked. I gaped at him silently. Perplexed..

"This isn’t a proposal, you understand,” he added hurriedly. “I’m not asking you to marry me. Not yet. I can’t without the permission of my father and my government. But I’m asking you whether marrying me is something you would consider."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. I had a long chat about it with Petra. She said she talked to you last night. She likes you. She said you’d make a good partner for me."

"But we only talked for about ten minutes."

"Well, she’s a good judge of character. She saw the same good qualities in you as I did."

"What good qualities?"

"Your confidence. Your self-assuredness."

"But I have no confidence."

"Of course you do. I mean, look at you. You’re poor, you’re Welsh, you’re not particularly good looking, and yet you’re sitting here in the smartest hotel in Brighton as if you had every right to do so."

"Wow! You really know how to sweep a boy off his feet!"

"No, you don’t understand. These are things that I like about you."

"That I’m not particularly good looking?"

"What I meant was..." He shook his head. "This conversation isn’t going at all the way I planned it. What I mean was that you’re grounded. You’re down to earth. You don’t care what people think of you. Otherwise you wouldn’t be wearing that."

"What?"

"That hoodie. This is the Pavillion Hotel, not a hip-hop bar in Brooklyn."

"Do you want me take it off?"

"No. You don’t understand. I like that about you. I like that you snubbed the nice clothes I bought for you and chose to wear your council estate gear instead. I like that you come down for breakfast without even bothering to comb your hair. I like your ordinariness. Your earthiness. You’re a working class kid with the balls and intelligence to break out of your environment and compete with us rich kids. And you outshine us. Not with your clothes, or your wit, or your family name, but by being yourself. That’s what I like about you. And that’s what I want standing beside me when I’m king. Petra thinks so too, and she’s an excellent judge of character."

I was flabbergasted. Never had I felt so insulted and complimented at the same time! I’d read Petra wrong.

"Well?" Eric asked.

"What?" I’d long forgotten what the original question was. I was still reeling from his speech. You outshine us. That was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me.

"Would you consider marrying me?" he said. "Or rather, what I’m asking is whether you’d be willing to be my right hand man. We’d be the first gay royal couple in history. We’d do all those things that you talked about in the car. Be ambassadors to gay rights and so forth. But it won’t be easy. We’ll be hated by many. There’ll be insults, ridicule, maybe even death threats. And that’s only if our marriage is approved by King and parliament, which will be a whole battle in itself. But one I’m willing to fight if you are by my side. So what do you think? Will you consider it? Will you be the next Prince Consort of Doggerland? Will you be my husband?"




About the Author 

Born to Dutch parents and raised in Colombia and England, I am a rootless wanderer with itchy feet. I've spent the last few years living and working in The Netherlands, Czech Republic, Sudan and Bulgaria, but I have every confidence that I will now finally be able to settle down among the olive groves of Andalucia. 

I am an avid reader and film fan (in fact, my study is overflowing with my various dvd collections!) 

I did an MA in creative writing for film and television at the University of Sheffield. After a failed attempt at making a career as a screenwriter, I turned to the theater and wrote and produced a play called ´Death Takes a Lover´ (which has since been turned into the first D.S.Billings Victorian Mystery). The play was performed on the London Fringe to great critical acclaim.

I am currently living in Spain where I make ends meet by teaching English.


 


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