Sunday, November 29, 2015

Release Blitz Beautiful Rugged by Sara V Zook

BRRelease
Release Blitz
Title: Beautiful Rugged
Author: Sara V. Zook
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release: November 29, 2015
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 Sometimes us silly girls fantasize about things that never come to be. I had expectations after college—expectations to run off with Jake Larson and start our life together in a little Pennsylvania farm town. I had my happiness mapped out inside my head. I didn’t expect to run into a strange, alluring man with a beard and dark hair stacked up on top of his head. I didn’t expect to be attracted to someone so—different. He was everything I didn’t know existed. He could make me feel things I’d never felt before. It didn’t seem possible that we could be together. We both had obligations. The world told us no, but we couldn’t stay away from one another, couldn’t deny that we were drawn together. He was so beautiful—so beautiful rugged. I was going to make him mine.  

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FACEBOOK PARTY!!!!
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authorbio
Sara V. Zook pursued her dream of becoming a writer and after earning her bachelor's degree, sat down to create her first novel in which Strange in Skin was completed in three short months. She's the author of the Strange in Skin Trilogy, Clipped, A Magic Within, Evanescent, Reminiscence, her mobster release, Six Guns, A Chaos Within, and her first contemporary romance, The Pull and its sequel The Push. She resides in Pennsylvania, where she was born and raised, with her husband and three small children.
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Other books by Sara: 

  Amazon: http://amzn.to/1NC0GY5 
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  magic2 
  Amazon: http://amzn.to/1NC0Q1A
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BOOK TOUR - All That's Left to Hold Onto by Ella Fox + Giveaway

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Letting go is all Ronan's ever known. 
Will he realize a life with Keely is something 
he should hold onto at any cost? 

 Find out in All That’s Left to Hold Onto by Ella Fox!

 AVAILABLE NOW! 

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1R1nO1E
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1Ibo4Ut
iBooks: http://apple.co/1legK5e
Kobo:  http://bit.ly/1kPuLqC


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Blurb


 When Ronan Sharpe unexpectedly left Colorado for parts unknown, he took a piece of Keely Carmichael's heart with him. 

 After leaving his hellish roots behind him, Ronan found contentment when he started over. Thoughts of the past had been pushed down for so long; he hardly thought about it at all. 

 He intended to keep it that way.

 When unexpected circumstances force Ronan to return to Colorado, the Keely he finds is no longer the adolescent girl he remembered. Torn between desire and fear, Ronan struggles with his feelings for Keely and his need to escape the town that scarred him so deeply years ago.

 Letting go is all Ronan's ever known. Will he realize a life with Keely is something he should hold onto at any cost?

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PROLOGUE

 There were nasty looking bruises on his cheek and jaw, his lip was swollen and his knuckles were scraped and bloody.  The instant I got a good look at his face I knew something was horribly wrong.  It only went downhill from there.

 My attempts to contain my panic weren’t working.  Choking back a sob I blubbered, “Why do you have to go?”

 The anger was all but pouring off of him.  Not toward me—he’d never once been angry with me. I knew anger though, and it was more than obvious he was furious about something. A permanent grimace seemed to have set up camp on his face.  For him, it was highly unusual.  Even in the toughest of times, he kept his cool.

 Suddenly, he wasn't calm at all.  He was angrier than I’d ever seen him.  It was obvious he’d been in a fight, but it didn’t change his status as the most attractive guy alive, in my opinion.

 I saw his jaw clenching and unclenching which I figured meant he was trying to control himself.

 “Because this piece of shit town is like a fucking cancer,” he spat.  “I’m so done with the crazy assholes around here. People like us aren’t normal—we’re the freaks for trying to be good people.”

 I didn’t know how to argue with his words.  He wasn’t wrong—there was a lot wrong with many of the people in our town. Most of the crazy people were either my family members or his.  I knew it and so did he.  There wasn’t a response to erase the reality of the kind of people we dealt with.

 “Are you going alone?”

 His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he nodded stiffly. “Yes.”

 “Even though you live with—”

 His hand shot up into a stop gesture to keep me from finishing the sentence.

 “Don’t say her fucking name. If I never hear it again, it’ll be too soon. I don’t live with that crazy bitch anymore.”

 I couldn’t stand her so it wasn’t like I was going to push. She was an evil troll. If he had to go, I was glad he wasn’t taking her with him.  It would’ve made me ill. She pretended to be sweetness and light when he was around but it was nothing but a charade.  She was terrible.  I was glad he wasn’t taking her, but the fact he wouldn’t say her name told me his leaving was somehow her responsibility. I hated her more than ever.

 “Where will you go?”

 He gestured back over his shoulder toward the street with his thumb.

 “Wherever my car takes me once I pull out,” he said.

 I couldn’t imagine life without him, nor did I want to. Not only had he been my crush for as long as I could remember, he was the only person who ever really listened to me.

 “Will you ever visit?” I asked hopefully.

 He was shaking his head in the negative before I’d even fully finished asking the question. I knew he wouldn’t. The bone-deep hatred he had for everything about where we lived was stamped all over his face.  I wanted so badly to know what, exactly, had sent him over the edge, but when I asked, he’d refused to tell me.

 It sucked being fourteen because he treated me like a kid.  My age said I was a child, but I was so different than any of my peers it wasn’t even funny.  Because of this, they teased me often, referring to me as Granny Carmichael.  I hated it.  It wasn’t as though I’d had a choice.  My childhood was over the moment my mother got sick.

 His expression softened when he looked me over. “You need to get back inside before you get pneumonia.”

 The frigid Colorado air wasn’t even making an impression on me until he pointed it out. I realized my tears were leaving cold trails on my face, but I couldn’t walk away. All I cared about was how much I didn’t want him to leave.

 “I don’t care about the cold or getting pneumonia.  I don’t want you to go!” I cried anxiously.

 He hugged me then, his strong arms wrapping around me to give comfort.  I hadn’t hugged him since I’d been much younger—probably five or six.  Those hugs had mostly involved me wrapping myself around one of his legs.  This was different. I wrapped my arms tight around him and cried against his chest, holding on for as long as he allowed me to.

 “I’m sorry,” he said as he ended the embrace and stepped back. “I have to leave.”

 Knowing my denial and resistance weren’t going to make any difference, I swiped at my tears as I nodded.

 “I’ll miss you,” I said on a choked sob.  “Take care of yourself.”

 “I’ll miss you too,” he replied softly.  “You’re one of the few good people here.”

 My heart galloped in my chest. I loved him for saying what he did—but hated that it came at such a horrible price.  Losing him was unbearable.

 He turned as if to leave, then stopped.  Spinning back my way, he stared at me intently for a few moments before he spoke again.

 “You’re so much better than any of these people. Don’t ever let them change who you are. The world needs a lot more you and a lot less them. No matter what anyone tells you—you’re perfect.  Got it?”

 I nodded as I wiped at the tears running unchecked down my face.

 He hugged me again, very briefly. My heart skipped a few beats when he dropped a kiss on top of my head.

 “Don’t ever forget your worth—not even for a minute,” he murmured.

 When he let go, he said nothing else.  He just turned and walked to his car.  As he went, the chill in the air suddenly took hold of me.  Hugging my arms around myself, I watched as he got into the car, turned it on and then pulled out of my driveway.  He looked at me one last time before putting his hand up in a goodbye gesture.  I did the same.  A few seconds passed before he put the car in drive then sped off into the night.

 I stayed outside for two or three minutes, hoping against hope he would change his mind and come back.

 He didn’t.

 Hours later when I got into bed, I prayed fate would bring him back one day.  I said the same prayer most nights for a long, long time. Eventually I had no choice but to accept reality.

 Hell would freeze over before he returned.


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About the Author:
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Ella Fox  writes like a woman possessed whenever she gets the chance!  She is the author of The Hart Family Series, The Renegade Saints Series and The Catch Series.


When she’s not writing, Ella indulges the gypsy in her blood and travels the country.  Ella loves reading, movies, music, buying make-up, reading Tmz, Twitter and pedicures… not necessarily in that order. She has a wild sense of humor and loves to laugh.  Her favorite thing in the world is hanging out with her family and watching comedy movies.


Stalk Her: Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Email | Website |

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$25 Amazon Gift Card

Release Blitz Home for the Holidays (M/M Anthology) + Giveaway

AnthologyRDBBanner
Home for the Holidays
M/M Romance Anthology
SJ Himes
Jenna Kendrick
Heather C. Leigh
Liv Rancourt
Felice Stevens
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Cover Design: LateNite Designs
Cover Photo: StockPhoto
Release Date: 11.29.15
 
BLURB
Home can be a person as well as a place. Everyone deserves a home for the holidays, as the stories in this collection affirm.
Proceeds from Home for the Holidays are being donated to the Ali Forney Center in New York City to help homeless LGBTQ youth.
*The Eighth Night by Jenna Kendrick
BLURB
Going home for the holiday only to find his parents have made other plans, Kai Meyers is thrilled to reunite with an old friend. Disowned by his religious family, Ari Fisher is use to being treated like a boy toy rather than a boyfriend, and now he only has eight days to reveal his secrets to Kai.
TEASER
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EXCERPT
Kai pulled up to the valet and peeled his stiff fingers from the wheel. White-knuckling it through downtown Boston traffic did not foster the inner peace necessary to handle spending the holidays with his family. He’d spent the majority of the drive kicking himself for not taking the train from Albany, but then he wouldn’t have been able to put in a couple hours at the office before heading out. He popped the trunk of his blue Fusion and pulled his duffel bag and laptop backpack from the passenger seat. By the time he walked to the back of the car, a bellhop had already pulled his small suitcase out of the trunk and was on his way into the building with it, leaving Kai no choice but to follow. Entering the private resident lobby, he was cleared by security and escorted to the elevators. He remembered how uncomfortable he’d been with all this pomp and ceremony when he was fifteen and his family had moved into the building. The fanciful idea of living in a hotel belonged in children’s books, not real life. He still felt awkward as an adult, as if he were acting out a scene in a movie. He exited the elevator on the 30th floor and immediately spotted the bags in the hall outside his parents’ apartment. No. They wouldn’t… “Malachai, you’re finally here.” His mother stepped into the hall, pulling on her gloves. “I just left you a note on the kitchen counter.” She looked down at the bags as if checking to see they were all accounted for, but Kai saw the lack of eye contact for the avoidance tactic it was. “Going somewhere? I thought we were having a family Chanukah this year.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jenna Kendrick writes male/male new adult and contemporary romance, her favorite genre to read. She lives in Upstate New York, where she spends the better part of the year trying to stay warm and dry. When she’s not writing, she reads, watches The Princess Bride and The Avengers far too often, spends time with her husband and friends, and drinks more coffee and tea than she’d care to admit. She shares her home office with her dog, Tally, and her cats, Loki and Tamiris.
Jenna spent most of her class time in high school writing bad poetry and short stories in which her teachers were the villains. She began writing in earnest in college, putting it aside for a few years to work as a teacher and product manager for several online services. In addition to writing fiction, Jenna also writes nonfiction technical books under another name.
 
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*24-Hour Hold by Heather C. Leigh
BLURB
Detectives Damon Porter and Anderson Malloy are now partners at Denver’s Major Case Unit. The problem is, they used to be boyfriends, and now they’re feeling anything but friendly towards each other.
TEASER
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EXCERPT
“Shut the fuck up!” Captain Terrell roars. The room falls silent. “The holidays are around the corner and I want our citizens feeling safe enough to go out and enjoy themselves and safe in their own homes and businesses. That means closing these cases. “Now,” Terrell walks over to the side of the room, motioning for someone to join him. From the back row, I can only see the top of a dark head of tousled hair as it weaves through the crowded room toward the front. “This detective has seven years of police experience, five of them with the Major Crimes Division in Miami. He’s originally from Denver and is going to be with us here at Robbery and Larceny temporarily to help us out as he’s being transferred to Homicide after these cases are solved, so you assholes better play nice.” Captain glares at us before nodding to the man and stepping aside. I squint at the podium, tilting to peek around Gorski’s big fat head. Before I can get a good look at the new detective, he speaks. Seven years later, I still recognize that voice. The voice of the first man I ever loved. “Good morning. I’m Detective Anderson Malloy, but everyone calls me Ace. I’d like to thank Captain Terrell and the rest of you for your hospitality while I’m here in Larceny. I’m a pretty easy going guy and I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.” My mind races, scrambling for a way to sneak out of the room without being noticed. Fuck! Seven fucking years and it feels as if it was just yesterday that Anderson Malloy pressed me down on his bunk at the academy, his hot mouth traveling across my chest. “I also want to say—” Malloy’s gaze lands on me, causing him to stumble over his words. My mouth goes dry and blazing heat floods my face. Anderson blinks, dazed, and rushes through the rest of his little speech. “I want to say… ummmm, I hope we can work together and clear up some of your case load. Thanks.” “Alright assholes,” Captain says. “I’ll be reassigning cases so stay close to get your new files.” Anderson tries to get to me, waving his fingers in my direction, but every detective in the room wants to introduce themselves, standing in his way with outstretched hands. Taking advantage of the distraction, I grab my mug of faux-coffee and dart out of the room before anyone can stop me. Hurriedly, I weave my way through the desks in the bullpen, ducking back into the kitchenette like a coward. My heart is racing in my chest. I can feel sweat gathering under the collar of my very expensive designer shirt. Shit, I’m acting like a nervous virgin on prom night. Big fucking deal if Anderson is here. I dumped him, not the other way around. If anyone should feel uncomfortable, it should be Malloy. Then why am I the one hiding? “Porter, if you’re not going to have coffee, think you can move your not-so-sexy ass out of the way?” My back bristles at the sound of Dave Richardson’s snarky jab at my sexuality. Hiding my anger, as usual, I step aside so he can fill his well-worn Denver Broncos mug with coffee-substitute. Hope you choke on it, asshole.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Heather C. Leigh is the author of the Amazon bestselling Famous series. She likes to write about the 'dark' side of fame. The part that the public doesn't get to see, how difficult it is to live in a fishbowl and how that affects relationships.
Heather was born and raised in New England and currently lives outside Atlanta, GA with her husband, 2 kids, and French Bulldog, Shelby. She loves the Red Sox, the Patriots, and anything chocolate (but not white chocolate, everyone knows it's not real chocolate so it doesn't count) and has left explicit instructions in her will to have her ashes snuck into Fenway Park and sneakily sprinkled all over while her family enjoys beer, hot dogs, and a wicked good time.
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*Learning to Love by Felice Stevens
BLURB
Returning home for the holiday, caterer Gideon Marks tried hard to push away his high school crush. But Rabbi Jonah Fine wouldn’t let him run again, or keep the secret Gideon’s tried so desperately to hide.
TEASER
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EXCERPT
“What do you want?” I blurted out. Yes I was rude, but he deserved it for waking me up. He stood and met my glare with a troubled expression in those deep blue eyes. “To talk to you and find out why you’re so mad at me.” “Didn’t you ever hear of the invention known as the telephone?” I couldn’t help it. After all these years, having Jonah in such close proximity to my body was affecting me in ways I didn’t want and couldn’t let happen. “I’m making coffee.” I turned my back on him and went into the kitchen. “I’m not stupid. You’d either ignore my calls or hang up on me.” He was there right behind me, his breath touching the back of my neck. I finished pouring the water into the well, congratulating myself that though my hands shook, I didn’t spill any. I set it to brew and sidestepped to the counter that doubled as my table, away from the heat of Jonah’s large body. He had a good four inches on me and although I never felt small, standing in front of Jonah I could easily imagine sinking into his broad chest, his arms wrapped around me. Fuck. “So you’re here now. Talk to me, but make it quick.” Jonah seemed surprised. “Why, what’s the hurry?” He followed me and sat at one of the bar stools. “Besides.” He grinned and pointed to the bag on the edge of the counter I’d somehow missed seeing. “I brought cinnamon raisin bagels and that chocolate chip cream cheese you always liked so much.” Stunned by Jonah’s recall, I stared at him. “How…what?” I couldn’t wrap my head around Jonah remembering such a minute detail about me. His warm smile beamed. “I have an excellent memory for things. Like how you like hazelnut flavored coffee and your fries extra crispy. That you hate Sicilian pizza. How you like 80’s music and Britney Spears.” “Well, yeah, duh. What gay man doesn’t?” I shrugged. Smile lines radiated from the corner of his eyes. “I made a point of not losing track of you, Gideon. And I’ve been proud of your successes.” The warm glow from Jonah’s response faded. “Why? Because you thought I couldn’t do it and you expected to see me fail?” Even though his actions belied my words, I couldn’t stop ranting. “Surprised you didn’t I? Dumb Gideon made something out of himself.” I fled to the opposite side of the apartment and stood by the windows, which overlooked the street below. “Wrong.” Once again Jonah stood behind me, but this time he took me by the shoulder and spun me around so we were face to face. I gazed up at him, shocked by the desire I saw in his eyes. I licked my lips and watched his stare drop to my mouth. “Jonah?” I couldn’t get another word out. He took my face between his hands and brushed his lips against mine, gentle as a feather, yet my body burned. His lips rested on the corner of my mouth, our cheeks touching. The entire world could have disappeared; nothing else mattered but the feel of Jonah’s hands on me. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” The curve of his smile imprinted itself on my skin.  
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Felice Stevens has always been a romantic at heart. While life is tough, she believes there is a happy ending for everyone. She started reading traditional historical romances as a teenager, then life and law school got in the way. It wasn't until she picked up a copy of Bertrice Small and became swept away to Queen Elizabeth's court that her interest in romance novels was renewed.
But somewhere along the way, her reading shifted to stories of men falling in love. Once she picked up her first gay romance, she became so enamored of the character-driven stories and the overwhelming emotion there was no turning back. Felice lives in New York City with her husband and two children. Her day begins with a lot of caffeine and ends with a glass or two of red wine. Although she practices law, she daydreams of a time when she can sit by a beach and write beautiful stories of men falling in love. Although there is bound to be some angst along the way, a Happily Ever After is always guaranteed.
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*Saving Silas by SJ Himes
Paramedic Gael Dominic wasn’t expecting much from the holidays. Blood, death, and loneliness were constants. So when tragedy puts a wounded Silas in his path, Gael takes a chance on his alleyway angel and love.
TEASER
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EXCERPT
Beep….beep….beep…. Someone needs to turn off that notification alert…Silas thought, annoyed. He tried to turn his head and bury it under his pillow, but he couldn’t seem to muster the strength. He moaned, irritated, and tried to lift a hand to wipe at his face. There was something making his nose itch. A tug on his arm made him stop, and he gasped as pain radiated out from his shoulder and down his chest. “Don’t move,” came a voice from nearby. Deep and rumbly. Smooth. Like coffee. Silas smiled, and settled back into his bed, wanting to hear more of that voice. The pain went away, and he floated in a gray place, light coming and going as he listened to the world around him. “That’s it, angel. Don’t try to move, just relax.” The annoying beeping faded, and Silas focused on the sounds of someone moving next to him, and the warmth of a hand taking hold of his. Larger, callused, strong. Silas smiled, despite the itching around his upper lip and nose. He closed his fingers around the hand that held his, and rubbed his thumb over hot, smooth skin. He hated to be touched by strangers, but this man, this hand, was something else. “Nurse, I think he’s waking up.” That voice again. “Hey, angel. Can you open your eyes? The doctor is coming, and some people need to talk to you. Can you wake up for me?” “Keep…” Silas whispered, throat dry. He swallowed, and tried again with better success. “Keep talking to me.” A chuckle, flowing like warm water over his body. Silas shivered, and held the hand tighter. It had been so long since he felt the affectionate touch of another. That kiss which started his nightmare didn’t count, it was nothing compared to how it felt to hold this man’s hand. “I can do that. Let me see those eyes, kiddo. Wake up for me.” “Not a kid.” Silas pried one eye open a fraction, wanting to see the owner of the sexiest voice in the world. His eyes watered at the brightness, and he blinked, managing to open them both. Everything was blurry, and it was hard to think past the gray haze swirling around in his brain. He squinted, and his gaze narrowed to the figure standing next to him. “Wow….” Silas breathed out, in awe. “You are so pretty.” The man above him froze, bronzed skin going dusky rose from a blush that swept his high cheekbones. Dark eyes, dark hair shorn short, and tattoos peeking out over the top of a dark blue uniform shirt collar, the man above him could’ve been a one of those half-naked veteran models that was flooding Facebook. Just wearing too many clothes. He was gorgeous. And he looked very tired. He should be scared. This man, this hot, sexy man, was exactly the type of guy he should be afraid of, he should be wary of…though his father was older, and not as broad across the chest and shoulders. This man oozed strength, without the malice his father wore like a mantle. This man gave him a soft, awed smile, a smile that made Silas’ skin shiver in reaction, his belly quiver. “Umm, thanks. You’re not bad looking yourself, kid. Can you tell me your name?”  
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I'm a thirty something bisexual cisgendered woman with way too big an imagination, but that comes in handy when I'm writing. I have been writing since I was a child, when I took a four page assignment on what I was going to do on summer vacation and turned it into a 100 page fantasy epic all written by hand...in crayons. No joke.
I work a day job, but I can't share for who, since the Old Man isn't as liberated as the people who read my books. I'm married, I have furbabies, and I live with loved ones. I adore a certain show about a British consulting detective and his grumpy army doctor, and that spawned an addiction to Johnlock fanfiction, which then evolved into me writing it. Gawd, that's embarrassing. Put this down in the TMI section of my Bio, okay? I enjoy martial arts, movies where things blow up, and I wish I lived in a Marvel movie.
I live in the beautiful and lonely Berkshire County in Massachusetts, and I see way more wildlife than I care to on a daily basis (bears!). My perfect day is reading surrounded by friends and family who don't think it's odd I want to hang out but not talk, and my favorite scent of all time is a cool fall evening with leaves burning....less a scent, and more of an experience. My writing is focused on gay and lesbian people, who are more than interesting side characters that hang out with the heterosexual MCs. My wish for the future is that when people ask me what I do for a living, I can say, "I write gay romance," and NOT get weird looks. Also write under pen name Revella Hawthorne.
SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS
Amazon/SJ Himes: http://amzn.to/210nIeU
Amazon/Revella Hawthorne: http://amzn.to/210nW5P
Twitter : @WriterSJHimes
 
*Christmas in LaLa Land by Liv Rancourt
For a Danaan sidhe like Aron, touching a human has consequences, while Damian’s hiding some serious scars behind his smile. A holiday trip to LA forces them to choose between acting on their attraction or giving up on love because of the past.
TEASER
Liv Rav
EXCERPT
An evening spent siphoning off another soul’s fear of mortality is a fabulous way to mess up a good night’s sleep. Around nine in the morning, I sank into my favorite kitchen chair, nursing a fresh-brewed cup of coffee and wondering if a fan would work to blow away the stink of burned java from last night’s pot. Wednesday was delivery day, my regularly scheduled opportunity to flirt. The small Formica table was older than me, and though the tube-metal chair wasn’t comfortable, the spot by the window gave me a view of the alley that ran behind our house. Our San Francisco neighborhood was made up of Victorian painted ladies, now occupied by the kind of people who drove Saabs, Volvos, and the occasional Prius. Late commuters slowly navigated the steep incline, while fog smudged the alley’s edges, narrowing their route. My mug was half-empty when the boxy, green, AmazonFresh delivery truck pulled up behind the house. I held my breath. What if he’d taken the day off? The truck’s engine stopped with a heavy cough. My heartbeat hitched, skittered, and I washed down a tangle of nerves with some coffee. The Man of the Hour swung out of the driver’s seat, all dark, dark skin, glossy white smile, and a sweet fade with mini-dreads on top. Damian Jones. The whole package made me shiver. A moment later he knocked, and I popped up to open the back door. “Gurl, you look like something the cat upchucked and left for dead,” Damian said. The gleam in his dark eyes lit a match somewhere down south of my border. Awkward, because I’d dressed in little bootie shorts and had to sit down fast to avoid giving him an anatomy lesson. “Thanks, darling.” Sitting didn’t disappoint me. I mean, it’s not like I was hoping he’d notice my ass. At all. Lying. He carried in two large, green plastic tubs loaded with enough stuff to make his biceps bulge. Setting them down by our antique refrigerator, he gave the kitchen a quick scan. “You know where she put the empties?” “Maybe down in the basement?” A nice person would get up and look. A nice person who didn’t have a hard-on busting through his bootie shorts. “All right, honey. I got another armload out in the truck, and then I’ll go get ’em.” He called me honey! Damian left, and the burned coffee stink overwhelmed me. He handled everything with such cool while I sat like fruit on a log. I huffed, straightened, and planted my hands on my hips. Not this time. This time I’d take the initiative. Jumping out of the chair, I figured the steep cellar stairs would bring my dick crashing back to reality. The empty Amazon containers were there, and on the way back to the kitchen, my initiative rolled over into inspiration. Or insanity. In my excitement, I almost ran right into Damian. He came through the back door, carrying a couple soft-sided carriers by the straps. “Hey,” I said, spitting out the word before common sense could crush my enthusiasm. His tongue flirted with me, bright pink against his dark lips. “Wassup?” “Ahh ... do you have time for coffee?” Because why live forever if you hate being alive?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I write romance: m/f, m/m, and v/h, where the h is for human and the v is for vampire … or sometimes demon … I lean more towards funny than angst. When I’m not writing I take care of tiny premature babies or teenagers, depending on whether I’m at home or at work. My husband is a soul of patience, my dog’s cuteness is legendary, and we share the homestead with three ferrets. Who steal things. Because they’re brats.
For sneak peeks and previews and other assorted freebies, go HERE to sign up for my mailing list.
Come find me. We’ll have fun!
 
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MM anthology
GIVEAWAY

Book Tour Night's Templar by Joey W. Hill

NT-Cover-Std-Res 
  RELEASED HALLOWEEN DAY!! NIGHT’S TEMPLAR BY JOEY W. HILL 
(Book XIII of the Vampire Queen series / BDSM paranormal romance / Male-male) 

 Blurb: 
Lord Uthe, a member of the Vampire Council, was a Templar Knight centuries ago. Even up to the present day, he has attempted to honor the spirit of the Rule, despite the volatile and highly sexual nature of the vampire world. Yet now he’s caught the attention of the Fae Lord Keldwyn, liaison between the Council and Fae Court. Keldwyn challenges Uthe’s emotional isolation and dominant nature. When a quest from Uthe’s past requires Keldwyn’s help to protect both their worlds, Uthe will have to decide whether the Fae male is a gift from God to be cherished and trusted, or a curse that will make Uthe fail the Order he promised to serve all his life. 


VQS-NT-PromoUthe-Medium 

  HAVEN’T READ ANY OF JOEY’S VAMPIRE QUEEN SERIES? 
This is a great time to start. Joey did mention this is the 13th book, right? You have plenty to read! Since Keldwyn and Uthe’s story is pretty deeply entrenched in the culture of her vampires, she wouldn’t recommend reading it first. However, you don't have to read ALL of the twelve preceding books to enjoy it; you just need more familiarity with the Vampire Queen’s world. According to her, Beloved Vampire (Book 4) is a standalone and a GREAT gateway book into the series with the sexy Lord Mason. Or you can read the first two in the series, Vampire Queen's Servant and Mark of the Vampire Queen, because Lady Lyssa and Jacob started it all. Excerpts and blurbs for the whole series are here - http://www.storywitch.com/series-vqs. Each book comes with a recommendation on whether it can be read as a standalone or which books should be read as prequels for it. She thanks you all for considering her vampires! Look below for a teaser from the book, as well as a link to read a full Chapter One excerpt.  

excerpt 2

“What does subjugated to your will mean, Lord Keldwyn?” Uthe demanded. “I have a goal to accomplish. It does me no good to go to your world if that mission will be hampered by your demands.” “I will not get in the way of that, never fear. Until your task in the Fae world is done, you will lie with me when I desire it.” For a moment, Uthe thought he’d misheard him. The request was so banal, at odds with the complexity that he normally associated with Keldwyn’s motives. He blinked. “Your price for being my tour guide is that I be your whore?” “I will not be paying for your services, my lord. Your payment to me, for my sponsorship, is your body.” Keldwyn swept his gaze over it, lingering on the columns of Uthe’s thighs, the way the cotton shirt stretched over his shoulders. Muscles tightened under his regard, and Uthe had to quell the desire to shift again. “You have compromised your chastity over the years to prove yourself vampire rather than Templar,” the Fae said. “And to protect your mission and secrets. You deemed them far more vital to your charge than your personal pride in keeping your vows." Uthe templed his fingers. He would treat this as a debate, like the many topics they’d dissected and argued over chess. That would calm the nerves jumping in his belly, as ridiculous as those experienced by a virgin bride on her wedding night. "I wonder how many of your Templars preserved their ideals as faithfully as you have,” Keldwyn mused. “They had to do it only for a mortal life span, or until the Order ended. Whereas you have clung to them for centuries. Is it hubris, a fear of having no faith, or something else that makes you that stubborn?" "To believe in nothing is no better than to believe in too much," Uthe said between his teeth. “A sentiment on coffee mugs and T-shirts. It is cliché and old, unoriginal.” “Just as you putting a sexual price on your patronage is.” “Careful,” Keldwyn said. Uthe felt that thrum of energy again as the Fae Lord’s gaze flashed with heat. “I will have your oath on bended knee that you offer yourself to me willingly. If you do not, your mission cannot proceed.” Uthe met the onyx and moonstone gaze. “You weary me,” he said. “Whatever it is you hope to gain with your torment, Lord Keldwyn, I wish you well of it. If it is my body you desire, it is yours. It is merely future ashes and dust.” Keldwyn straightened in the chair, uncrossing his ankles. His elegant hands dangled loosely on the end of either chair arm as he looked pointedly at the floor between his braced feet. It drew Uthe’s gaze to the columns of his thighs, the spread of his legs making it impossible not to note the impressive evidence of his virility under the molded fabric. He forced his gaze upward, but refused to look at Keldwyn’s face to see if he’d noticed him looking. “Your oath,” Keldwyn repeated. “I am waiting, Lord Uthe. Unless you have decided your quest is not as important as your virtue.” “Perhaps your revulsion for sharing your blood with a vampire is only matched by my distaste for sharing your bed.” “If that was the case, you would not be aroused now.” Uthe bared his fangs in a dangerous smile. He’d hung his sword on the back of the chair. Rising, he drew the blade from the scabbard in one swift movement, a whisper of menace. Let the bastard think he might try to skewer him, regardless of the consequences. Keldwyn did not move, though Uthe had the satisfaction of seeing the sensual mouth thin, the eyes rivet on him in that cool, watchful way that suggested he might be close to inciting the Fae’s temper. He liked the idea too much. There was more at stake here than a pissing match, and he was channeling desire into aggression to deny his need. He ignored the faint tremor in his hands, the tightness in his chest as he teetered on the precipice of doing the unthinkable. Planting the tip of the blade in a groove of the oak flooring, he dropped to one knee. “Speak your oath, and I will repeat it in good faith, my lord,” he said, a growl. “You have my promise to adhere to it, unless it countermands God’s will.” “I have noticed you still speak like a Templar, vampire. After all these decades.” “In this modern world, promises are broken for convenience or comfort. I will not use casual words to speak a true oath.” “Very well.” Keldwyn stood, moving the chair back and putting his hand on the pommel, curling his fingers over Uthe’s. His touch was cool, his palm smooth against Uthe’s knuckles. “Swear to be bound to me, offering your body willingly to my desires and demands, no reservations, until your quest is done. In God’s name.” “I think God has little to do with this,” Uthe said, but he repeated it, his gaze lifting to meet the Fae’s. “I swear myself bound to you, the Fae Lord Keldwyn, liaison of the Unseelie and Seelie Courts, liaison for the Vampire Council. I will offer my body willingly to your desires and demands, until my quest is done.” “With no reservations,” Keldwyn prompted. “You will not hold your mind apart from me, Lord Uthe. I will not consider the oath served if you lie like a board while I fuck you.” He slid a curled hand along Uthe’s cheek, so Uthe felt the rough edges of the ring resting above Keldwyn’s knuckle. “Say it.” “With no reservations,” Uthe said, hearing the harsh rasp of his voice, a reaction to Keldwyn speaking his intentions so baldly. His hand was clenched on the pommel, and Keldwyn’s, still upon his, would feel it. “I swear.” Keldwyn removed his hand, giving him a speculative look. “Access to our world must mean a great deal to you, Lord Uthe. I did not expect to win your agreement so easily.” “Accomplishing my quest is all that matters. The rest does not.” “Clever. You imply my demands do not matter, that they are as nothing to you. I am glad you are so unaffected. Because I require a demonstration of your oath, right now.” 
  FREE CHAPTER ONE EXCERPT - http://www.storywitch.com/book-vqs-nt

Author Bio
joey hill
Winner of the RT Book Reviews Career Achievement award, Joey W. Hill has published over forty contemporary and paranormal BDSM erotic romances, including six series. Her emotionally-intense love stories offer everything from vampires, mermaids, witches and angels, to boardroom executives, cops and simple housemaids. Free excerpts from all her works are available at her website, www.storywitch.com. Additional vignettes, character interviews and graphics inspired by the work are at the fan forum site, accessible through www.storywitch.com/community.
Twitter: JoeyWHill 
  Joey is giving away a $50 Gift Card (Readers Choice) and readers choice of two signed books or e-books, and a jewelry box.   a Rafflecopter giveaway //widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js