New Release - Matched By My Rival by DJ Jamison #kindleunlimited #giveaway

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Matched By My Rival

Author: DJ Jamison

Publisher: DJ Jamison

Cover Artist: Cate Ashwood

Release Date: July 8, 2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Enemies to lovers, college jocks, online love match, secret/forbidden love

Themes: Building a new dream, following your heart, forgiveness

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length: 75 000 words

It is part of a series (Thrust Into Love) but can be read as a standalone.

Goodreads

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  

Simon Prentiss: Ex-football star, bitter rival, and…falling for the enemy?

Blurb

I hate my teammate, Parker Reed.
I hate that he makes me work so hard for my position on the field. 
Hate how he always smiles. How easily he shows me up when I'm injured.

Most of all, I hate that he made me lose my temper.

Next thing I know, football is gone.
My scholarship is gone.
I'm nearly gone, too.

With help, I manage to stay in school for my final semester.
At least without football, I can explore a new side to myself.
See where my attraction to guys takes me without fear of it affecting my future. 

I didn't see it coming. The cosmic joke.
The sweet, patient guy on the hookup app?
The one who makes me burn with the desire to have him?

Yeah, it's Parker.

Our chemistry is off the charts, no matter how much I resent him.
Holding a grudge against him is impossible.
But when he wants to walk away from everything I lost, can I accept it?

If I don't, I'll lose him too--and that can't happen.
Because I don't hate Parker Reed.
I think I love him.

Matched By My Rival is an enemies-to-lovers, jock rivals romance. It's Book 2 of the Thrust Into Love series but can be read as a standalone. 

Excerpt 

The following excerpt is from Simon’s POV, when he realizes that his app hookup is actually his rival, Parker Reed.

This couldn’t be happening. Parker Reed? Parker Reed was my Thrust match? No, I refused to believe it. 

“There must be some mistake,” I growled.

He didn’t back down. Parker wasn’t the type. But for once, his obnoxious grin was absent. 

“No mistake. A surprise, for sure.”

I turned to Rhett, who was watching us with the fascination of a driver gawking at an accident scene. “I’ll close up if you let me take care of this.”

“Yeah, sure. Bar’s done serving. Knock yourself out, just...clean up the blood before you leave.” He cut his eyes toward Parker. “Whoever you are, I wish you the best.”

He exited the bar through a little section of counter that raised up, creating a gap. I held it open for Parker, jerking my chin toward the back room. “Let’s go.”

Parker chuckled nervously as he passed through the bar entrance, brushing against my chest. I could feel his body warmth, smell his aftershave, an earthy natural scent that suited him. 

Heart pounding, I led him into the back room. Surrounded by boxes of liquor and kegs of beer, I whirled on him. “Did you know?”

“Wh-what?”

Parker appeared off-balance. Usually he was a smooth fucker. 

“Were you playing me?” I demanded, crowding him against a stack of boxes. We were close to the same size, but I didn’t let it stop me from putting every ounce of threat I could into my voice.

“No!” The word burst from him, sounding incredulous. “How would I know it was you? We never shared personal stuff.”

“So it’s a coincidence?” I said skeptically.

“Yes. It’s a really awkward coincidence that the guy I—” His voice cracked, and he looked away. “I didn’t know.”

“Look me in the eye when you say it.”

Parker reluctantly looked at me, frustration blazing. “You’re such an asshole sometimes, Prentiss.”

A shocked laugh burst out. “Really?”

“Yeah, I know I screwed up, okay? I never should have gone to that party with Kristin. And obviously we wouldn’t be here if you knew it was me on that app. But you don’t have to interrogate me like a fucking criminal.”

A whole series of memories hit me. All those flirty chats. Those sexts that Parker had so patiently walked me through. I’d thought he was the nicest guy on the planet. 

“Fuck me,” I muttered, looking away. 

“Please stop saying that,” Parker said in a strangled voice.

I  jerked my eyes back to his face in time to see a look of such lust it shot heat through my entire body. “What?”

“Fucking you is all I’ve thought about for weeks.” He laughed weakly. “Joke’s on me, huh?”

I couldn’t stop my eyes from making a slow perusal of his body. It was dark, but I could make out the shape of him. I knew how fit he was. Knew because we had practically the same body, the way we’d pushed ourselves in training. He was of a slightly leaner build than me, more flexible. I knew his body intimately too. A series of pics from his profile, and even more illicit ones he’d sent me directly, had filled in any blanks I might have had.

His chest rose and fell faster. When I raised my gaze to his face, he dragged the tip of his tongue over his dry lips.

And I lost it.

There was no thought, no reasoning. I’d spent weeks dipping my toe in the water, testing, evaluating. But now I was in the deep end. 

I was ready to swim. Or maybe I’d drown. But if I did, I was taking us both down.

I crushed my mouth to his, shoving him harder into the boxes, and he grasped at my waist for balance, gripping hard enough to hurt. The pain only fueled my need. I grabbed his hair, short on the sides but longer on top, and yanked his head back to better devour his mouth. 

Weeks of buildup, of flirting with my bisexuality and tempting myself to no end, exploded in a fiery inferno of need.

I didn’t care if it was Parker. I didn’t care that he was a man I’d blamed and detested. In some ways, it made it easier.

This wasn’t the love connection I thought it might be. It was unbridled lust, and I was just getting started.

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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Giveaway 

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New Release - Sun, Sea & Small-Town Secrets by S. J. Coles

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title:  Sun, Sea & Small-Town Secrets

Author: S. J. Coles

Publisher: Pride Publishing

Release Date:  July 6, 2021

Genre:  Contemporary M/M Mystery/Holiday Romance

Tropes: Forbidden Love / Small Town / Holiday 

Themes: Healing / Hurt/Comfort / Travel / Self-discovery

Heat Rating:  4 flames  

Length: 48 634 words/ 193 pages

It is a standalone story.

Add on Goodreads

Buy Links

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

Pride Publishing

Small towns are full of secrets, some harder to keep than most.

Blurb

Sebastian Conway is a professional psychologist and accomplished criminal profiler, but when one of his patients is sentenced to life in prison for a crime she didn’t commit, he simply cannot let it go. His borderline obsessive behaviour has embarrassed his boss and lover, Gerrard Wilson, and the relationship has come to a bitter end.

Seb has now grudgingly taken Gerrard’s advice and come to the small coastal town of Ruéier in the South of France to get some distance and clear his head—but he cannot sit by and do nothing.

He has started writing a book he believes will address the failings in the case, but when he gets swept up in a local investigation into suspected drug trafficking, which is led by the enigmatic and strangely enticing Antoine Damboise, the book—and Seb’s intentions to avoid active criminal cases—take a back seat.

He knows it’s a bad idea to get involved, but he can’t seem to help himself. And when it seems Damboise is tempted to make their relationship more than professional, Seb finds it easier than ever to ignore his better judgment. But when a local drug dealer is murdered and Seb is implicated, everything gets a whole lot more complicated.

Can the two men set aside their personal feelings long enough to figure out what’s really going on before Seb ends up in prison? Or worse…

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of murder and drug use.

Excerpt

“Monsieur Conway?” 

I turned back. He was stood by reception looking thoughtful, scratching at the stubble on his cheek. 

“Yes?”

“Would you, perhaps, like to get a coffee?”

I blinked. “A coffee?”

“Oui,” he said. “A thank you, shall we say? For your 

help.”

His smile was friendly, but his eyes were weighing me 

up with a dark intensity I couldn’t penetrate. Whatever it was going on here, saying yes, I knew, would be a very bad idea. 

“Sure,” I said with a smile. “Sounds good.” 

His own smile widened, and he nodded. “Bon. I will meet you outside.” 

I was grinning like a teenager with a crush as I stepped back out into the street. The fresh breeze dried the clamminess on my face and swelled in my lungs and chest. A small confidence boost could only help my productivity, I decided. I still wasn’t sure what exactly his interest was. Heavy looks or not, I got exactly zero read on his sexuality. But surely even French police didn’t take witnesses for coffee? 

I was so busy retrospectively analysing his body language in the interview room—Did he extend his leg toward me? Rest his hand near mine?—that I didn’t hear him behind me until he said my name. 

“Apologies,” he said when I started, and a small smile twitched the corner of his mouth. A pair of sunglasses hid his troublesome eyes from view. He’d slung his jacket over his arm and, with the bright sunshine glinting in his corn-blond hair and off his white teeth, I suddenly wondered how I ever considered him plain. 

“It’s fine,” I managed. “Where do you want to go?” “Ah, I know the best place. Follow me.” 

“Antoine?” 

We turned back. Adjudant Rayne was hurrying toward us. She fired French at him whilst frowning at me. Damboise replied calmly, and she said something more, her eyes leaving me to send Damboise what was unmistakably a warning look. 

“C’est bon,” Damboise concluded. “This way,” he said and turned toward the seafront. Rayne watched us leave with her arms crossed and expression grim. 

“She doesn’t like me very much,” I said. 

“You misunderstand,” he said without looking at me. “She was just reminding me of some paperwork that is late. I will do it after a bit.” 

I spent the rest of the walk pondering the possible reasons behind his lie. 

The breeze was brisker and the air fresher as we stepped out onto the seafront boulevard. The beach was crowded with families—the children running, laughing and shrieking in the gentle swell of the shallows. The boats bobbed sedately in the harbour, shining all the colours of the rainbow under the bright, sapphire sky. Bicycles whizzed up and down the road, baskets laden with groceries or bottles of wine. The men with guns seemed like a distant dream. 

I followed him as he crossed the road to the Café De La Mer. 

“You have been here before then, yes?” he said as he pulled out the chairs around one of the plastic tables under a blue-and-white parasol. 

“The first day I got here,” I said, a little warily as I surveyed the clear view of the harbour. “The coffee is good, but I think it’s better at Cafe Maman.” 

“Oui,” he said, hanging his jacket on the back of his chair and sitting. “I would say that is true. But have you tried the chocolat chaud?” 

“Hot chocolate?” I translated dubiously, taking the other chair. “I don’t much like it.” 

“Just wait,” he said, signalling a smiling waiter with a raised hand and placing the order. Damboise made meaningless small talk for the interval until the waiter returned. I blinked, surprised, as he set the shallow cup half-full of dark liquid that looked more like espresso than chocolate in front of me. 

“What, no squirty cream? Marshmallows?” I asked with a half-smile as Damboise lifted his small cup in his distractingly delicate grip. 

“We respect chocolate too much to pollute it so. This is the local recipe, melted then mixed with a splash of cognac. Go ahead. Try it.” 

I lifted the cup to my face and inhaled the rich, thick scent. It was sweet, yes, but savoury too—bold, rather than cloying. It reminded me of fresh-turned earth, with a slight smokiness, like when the wind brings the scent of a distant bonfire. I drank. It was so thick that I could almost chew it. It tasted like it smelled—rich and earthy, with the spice of tree bark and apricot from the cognac. 

“Good, non?” 

“Yeah,” I said, tipping the cup farther to coax more into my mouth. “This isn’t like the instant stuff.” 

“In France, nothing is instant. Everything is slow. Considered. Deliberate.” 

“I’m beginning to get that,” I said, scraping the remains of the chocolate with the tiny spoon that had come with it. Damboise smiled at me, sipping his own drink like someone sampling a fine wine, then he dabbed his lips with a napkin. 

About the Author

S.J. Coles is a Romance writer originally from Shropshire, UK. She has been writing stories for as long as she has been able to read them. Her biggest passion is exploring narratives through character relationships.

She finds writing LGBT/paranormal romance provides many unique and fulfilling opportunities to explore many (often neglected or under-represented) aspects of human experience, expectation, emotion and sexuality.

Among her biggest influences are LGBT Romance authors K J Charles and Josh Lanyon and Vampire Chronicles author Anne Rice.

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