Monday, 15 March 2021

Blog Tour - Claw of Exile by J.K. Jones

BLOG TOUR

Book Title: Claw of Exile

Author: J.K. Jones 

Publisher: Self-published

Release Date: February 20, 2021 

Genre/s: MM werewolf romance, interracial romance, MM paranormal romance, Action and adventure,

Tropes: Enemies to lovers 

Heat Rating:  4 flames  

Length:  68 995 words

It is the first book in the series. Book 2 due to be released in December. 

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Buy Links

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

 

He kills to survive 

Blurb

Exiled.

Cursed. Abandoned. Ryu Suzuki is no stranger to these things.

For years he wandered the Outlands with nothing but his Katana to keep him safe. Kuroi kage—Black Shadow is what they call him. A phantom Omega. He belongs nowhere. He is no-one. Until a vicious disease spreading like wildfire threatens everyone he loves.

After a series of unfortunate events, the game changes. Now he’s forced to go back to his long-forgotten pack, the Silvercrest Howlers. Suddenly, he’s staring at the man who ruined everything in the first place.

The Alpha that betrayed him. The White Lotus.

Micah McCorbyn.

He also happens to be his mate.

Claw of Exile is a dark MM romance series. Each book is a whirlwind experience, high octane and will have you at the edge of your seat. Enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, hurt comfort, gay paranormal romance, gay betrayal romance and so much more. Follow Ryu into the Exiled series and strap yourself in for a wild ride.



Excerpt

Chapter 1

The Outlands

Yokohama Japan 21’


Ryu Suzuki is rotten.

Like all forbidden fruit, they say, he appears lush with deliciousness, but his insides are the color brown, sodden with the foul stench of bacteria. They are black and blue they say, slimy green, covered with rot and deterioration. It’s disgusting to look at.

The fruit is shriveled up, with pus oozing through the thick skin. On the outside he looks perfectly normal, shining—shimmering in the light, deceiving everyone.

Ryu is the picture of ripening fruit, ample with flavor, ready to be tasted and explored by anyone who dared. Conversely, among other fruits, he would never let on his infectious disease until it was too late, and it spread.

They say Ryu Suzuki is indeed rotten to the core.

His bitter hands grip the headboard as the man above moves forcefully. The durable bend and twists of his hips make him choke violently, back arching off the bed, pale skin shining in the moonlight.

His hair sprawls like a black curtain, long and silky in the sheets. Earlier that day, it had been upon him, the slick and fever of desire, so ripe and deep it made him wrench in anguish.

Ryu found the closest Alpha, decent size, large and empowering, and released his intoxicating scent. No Alpha could ever resist. Ryu lured him into his tiny apartment, no more the size of a small box, with the bathroom and kitchen all being in one spot.

The Alpha didn’t ask questions, he tossed Ryu onto the bed, tearing off his clothes in a deep rage that would later consume him in his rut.

No kisses. No words of any kind.

Just lips, teeth, and skin.

Fuck—the man licks down the pale column of his neck, lapping at the skin, tonguing his glans, causing passion to tear through him.

He comes again for the fifth time that evening, soaking the Alpha and the sheets. This goes on for several more hours. When it’s over, they are both covered in sweat, the stench of sex and freesia filling the room.

The Alphas knot dies down.

And Ryu knows what’s coming next. The Alpha stands, barely letting the air cool around them, throwing on his tight white t-shirt and jeans, his physique muscular, arms rippling and straining against the fabric.

He isn’t bad looking.

Just not at all Ryu’s type.

“You got a mate?” The Alpha asks.

They all did. Ryu ignores the question, lazily stroking his flat stomach, noting the sharp arch of his hip bones. He hasn’t eaten in days.

“Silent type eh?” The Alpha probes. “Look…. I only did this because you seemed desperate.”

That’s what they all say. Ryu wants to crackle in maniacal laughter. He doesn’t though, his eyes watch coolly, like a feline.

“You have a mate,” he continues. “I can tell. Your Māku is strong, very strong. He must be a powerful Alpha. You shouldn’t be wandering around here without him. Whatever happened between you two… it doesn’t matter…the stench of another Alpha on his Omega is enough to drive one mad…”

Isn’t that what Ryu wants? To drive his Alpha mad? He turns his head away dismissively. This conversation is over.



About the Author 

Heaven and hell, demons and angels. J.K Jones has always had an affinity for otherworldly things. From her debut novel, it’s easy to see she loves all things crawling in the shadows. As it so happens, J.K Jones is the author of a gritty, fun, action-packed, soul-rending novel. Her characters are so dark and twisted they defy the dimensions of this world. She does not believe in HEA, she does believe in writing a suitable ending for her characters. Never will you read any of her works where the characters ride off into the sunset together. Not going to happen. There is nothing J.K. Jones loves more than a tragic ending. She is an avid reader, poet, and LGBTQ activist. She is a University graduate with a BA in Sociology, also has a TESOL certificate for teaching English as a Second Language.

Sunday, 14 March 2021

Cover Reveal - The Harder We Fall by Rebecca Raine #giveaway

COVER REVEAL

Book Title: The Harder We Fall

Author: Rebecca Raine

Cover Artist: Bec Rivers

Release Date:  March 29,  2021

Genre: MM Romance

Trope: Hurt/Comfort

Themes: Grief, Penance, Personal Growth

Heat Rating: 4 flames

 Length: 70,000 words

It is a standalone book.

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For years, I’ve been bound by sleeplessness and sorrow. His voice threatens to set me free.


Blurb

Insomnia. It’s part of the penance I pay for my greatest mistake. But when an ill-timed doze behind the wheel of my car nearly introduces me to a pole, I know something has to change.

Sleep with Me, a locally-made meditation app, promises a cure. I don’t expect it to work. Nor do I expect to become enthralled by the voice of its creator, Sam Stephenson. His ability to coax forth my nightly surrender is unnerving. I have to meet this man and learn the secret behind his techniques, so I can evict him from my head—and still get a good night’s sleep.

In person, the quiet and reclusive Sam is his own kind of complicated. He needs my business skills as much as I need his meditation skills and we forge an unlikely partnership. But the attraction between us soon flares into passion and, as we grow closer, I start to long for more than my guilty conscience will allow.I have no right to love, not after the damage I’ve done. How can I give Sam all he deserves, when our chance at a happy ending was ruined before we even met?
  


Excerpt

“You know, openly gay men don’t usually spend so much time in a closet.”

He grins, glancing at the walls surrounding us. “It never occurred to me to spend time in the metaphorical closet. Mum accepted me, I assumed others would, too. Which hasn’t always been the case, but I have no regrets there.” His eyebrows lift in question. “What about you?”

“For a while,” I say with a shrug. “Then I got caught kissing a boy while drunk at a high school party. There wasn’t much point denying it after that?”

“Did the other students give you a hard time?”

A bitter laugh bubbles up through my chest but I tamp it down. “Sometimes. But they had better reasons to hate me. I was used to people talking behind my back, staring when I walked past. Being out didn’t change my life overly much.”

Sam frowns as he puts a hand over mine on my knee. The questions are there in his eyes. Why did people hate you? What happened? What did you do?

His mouth opens, but I beat him to the punch. “You use this place for more than recording now?”

He stops, and then a barely perceptible nod acknowledges my right to keep my past to myself. “I do,” he says, looking around the room. “There’s so much I struggle to do. Talking to new people, going out, doing stuff. It’s tiring, always having to work so hard to do things other people do without thought. When I’m in here, I can just be.” He smiles, and there’s an ease to it I’ve never seen before.

“When you’re leading your class, you make it seem so easy. Sitting there, being you. Like nothing can touch you.”

He watches me for a long moment. “Your thoughts can’t hurt you, Tristan. Not by themselves.” He’s said those words to me before, but apparently I need reminding.

“My thoughts could,” I whisper. “If I let them. I’m not brave like you.”

Both our hands are joined now, our fingers threaded together over my knees. This time, the tremor isn’t coming from his side. Why am I saying these things? He brought me here to show me his sanctuary, and I’m treating it like a confessional.

“You are brave,” he says with quiet insistence. “I know you’re scared. But you’re here, asking for help when you need it. That’s brave.” A new depth has crept into his tone as we’ve talked. A commanding gentleness I recognise.

“Your voice…” I take a shaky breath, my mouth twitching at the corners. “My siren has arrived.”

His expression turns bashful as he ducks his head. “I didn’t mean to.”

“No, don’t stop.” My grip on him tightens. “Please.”

Meeting my gaze, he nods. “It doesn’t usually happen spontaneously. Only when I’m recording or teaching a class. It’s this place, I suppose. I feel safe here.” As he speaks, his thumbs stroke my palms and I shiver.

“Having me here doesn’t spoil the feeling?”

“No.” A touch of awe glints in the blue. “I think, maybe, I feel safe with you, too.”

I don’t move when he lets go of my hands and raises up off the cushion so he can scoot closer. I don’t move when he extends his legs over my still folded ones, so his calves bracket my hips and his feet touch down behind me. He’s not actually in my lap, his arse is still on the floor in front of me, but it’s a close thing.

I don’t move as he reaches out to touch my cheeks, stroking his thumbs over them. My own hands remain on my knees, my fingers digging in there. I don’t move, but my heart is a wild thing in my chest and my breathing is laboured. Shudders rack my body as he brushes his nose against mine. When his breath fans across my lips, I still don’t move. But I close my eyes, and I wait.

His closed lips touch mine. They’re soft and tentative. Barely pressing against me. They’re hopeful lips, in search of a response.

I move to give him one.


About the Author 

Rebecca is a long-time lover of all things romance. Whether it’s a book, movie, or real life, she will always have more fun if there’s a love interest thrown into the mix. She lives in Queensland, Australia with her very own hero husband, two quirky kids and one big, black dog. Other than reading and writing books, her favourite things include loud music, enjoying a glass of wine on the patio, organising everything in existence, and spending too much time on the Internet. 

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