Book Tour: Baited by Jennifer Dean #giveaway #YoungAdult #paranormalromance @msjenniferdean


Bound Series Book 3
by Jennifer Dean
Genre: YA Paranormal Romance

Normal seniors worry about if they will get rejected from their dream school, what they are going to wear to their last prom, or if it’s possible to stay close with the friends they grew up with after high school.

But Emma Morgan has come to learn that normality is a thing of the past. Especially when her eighteenth birthday is a mere reminder of the newly accepted deal she has made to lure a vengeful immortal named Thomas back into Alexander territory. A plan that will certainly make the humans of her world safer but comes with the risk of not living to see graduation.

baitedjd - excerpt

Hours later, we all sat chuckling as Pamela mocked her boyfriend, Kyle Bellmen. The smile I held was finally genuine, as I’d been granted my wish: to revel in the normality of my old life without the tense spotlight of talking about my new one.

The laughter in the cabin was at its loudest of the night. Even Heather was joining in with us. Then a thud drew our attention to the starboard side of the boat.

“What was that?” Heather asked.

Without a need for a command, Erika turned down the music. She stood silent, listening as she stared at the ground. After a few seconds of silence, she looked back at the group with a shrug.

“Something probably fell that wasn’t secure on deck. I’ll check it out to be sure.”

She jogged up the steps and creaked open the door hatch to make her way onto the deck. We all sat silent, waiting for news of what she would discover.

“Oh my god,” Erika whined out.

I was out of my seat and up the steps before any of the others had moved. When I reached the doorway I stepped onto the deck only to be met with a darkness that forced me to blink excessively to adjust to the sight.

But my stomach tensed, as I knew that it was taking too long to adjust to the dark when we were so close to the docks. I turned to use the lampposts from the boardwalk as a guide only to realize there were none. My eyes had finally begun to adjust enough to stiffen at the sight.

There were no lampposts because we weren’t near the docks. There was no light except for the cabin lights from below deck. And just as the other girls began to shout out, “What the hell,” and “Oh my god,” I felt my own unease. We were stranded in the middle of the Pamlico River.

I looked to Erika, who seemed to be pleading with me for an explanation—one that I didn’t have.

“I swear the boat was securely tied up to the dock. And even then, it would be impossible without the engine on, right?”

She was scratching her head while looking in all directions, clearly panicking, as most would. But glancing beyond her toward the bow, my eyes caught sight of the problem. Shit.

So much for being normal


Bound Series Book 2

Despite the attack that almost took her life, Emma Morgan has accepted the risk that comes from being in love with an immortal like Liam Alexander.

But continuing to seek the approval of her older brother is a whole different struggle, and when tensions finally reach a breaking point between the siblings, looming enemies take advantage of the distraction. And even though the Alexanders are quick to form a search party for their newest coven member, Emma learns that finding her brother may come at a high price.

Bound Series Book 1

When fate leads Emma Morgan back to her small hometown of Washington, she learns that the life she knew three years ago has changed once she meets the charmingly, mysterious Liam Alexander. But when her brother Sean, voices his disapproval, Emma finds her loyalty in the way of her newfound curiosity of the youngest Alexander. Only the more she tries to avoid Liam the more she finds him in her constant company.
A risk that leads down a dangerous path for both once Emma begins to discover a secret about the Alexanders that no human should ever know.

Jennifer has studied Creative Writing and Literature and lives in Nashville, Tennessee. To find out more about her and her novels you can visit

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Release Blitz: You’ll be Fine by Jen Michalski #contemporaryromance #LGBTQ @ninestarpress @GoIndiMarketing

Title: You’ll Be Fine

Author: Jen Michalski

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 08/02/2021

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 77900

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, Romance, contemporary, family-drama, bisexual, lesbian, comedy of errors, second chances

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After her mother dies of an accidental overdose, Alex takes leave from her job as a writer for a Washington, DC, lifestyle magazine to return home to Maryland’s Eastern Shore. There, she joins her brother Owen, a study in failure-to-launch, in sorting out their mother’s whimsical and often self-destructive life.

Alex has proposed to her editor that while she is home she profile Juliette Sprigg, her former high school fling, owner of a wildly popular local restaurant, and celebrity chef in the making.

While working on the story and trying for a second chance with Juliette, Alex meets Carolyn Massey, editor of the town newspaper, and wonders if there’s more to life than reheating leftovers.

Enter Alex and Owen’s Aunt Johanna, who arrives from Seattle to help with arrangements. When Johanna reveals a family secret, Alex may have to accept her family for who they are rather than who she hoped they would be. And just maybe apply the same philosophy to her heart and herself.


You’ll Be Fine
Jen Michalski © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
Even though Owen never calls her, especially at 7:30 on a weekday evening, when Alex sees her brother’s name in the caller ID, she drops her phone back into her purse and waits for her metro stop. She figures he’ll just leave her a message about his cat. It’s been almost the entirety of their relationship the past five years. The week before, he’d texted her a picture of Tortoise, his Himalayan. She was wearing a suit of herbs with terra cotta-colored felt legs. She looked like a chia pet.

I am my own catnip receptacle, Owen had texted underneath Tortoise’s picture.

The chia pet text had come after midnight, a time when Alex (like most people) was asleep and susceptible to tragedy, like a call from the hospital, from the roadside after a car accident, or, for Alex specifically, a call from her mother when her mother was completely wasted, one glass of wine away from falling down the steps or worse, keeping Alex on the phone for hours about years-old, completely fabricated grievances.

She hadn’t responded to Owen that night, either, mad he’d woken her up about his stupid cat. That he didn’t understand she got up at five in the morning for her job as a features writer at the Capitol Metropolitan or that her apartment in Adams Morgan was expensive as hell or that the amount of her grad school loans equaled a house mortgage. That she had a life, didn’t still live at home with their mother, and didn’t have a cat for a best friend.

As she gets up to make her way to the doors of the metro, her phone vibrates again.

“Owen, I just got off work—can I call you back?” She presses the phone to her cheek as she follows the other commuters up the stairs of the station.

“No, Alex—listen.”

“You know—I was just thinking about Tortoise—I was worried maybe it meant she had died or something,” Alex jokes, cutting him off, even as her hands begin to sweat. She wonders what their mother has done this time to warrant a call from Owen.

“Alex.” Owen is silent for a minute. “It’s Mom. Mom’s dead.”

“Dammit, Owen, you shouldn’t joke.” But she knows he isn’t joking. She stops in the middle of the sidewalk. People brush against her, clipping her leg with their totes, her shoulder with their purses and messenger bags, as she tries to remember what day it is again, when she talked to her mother last. What she wishes she could take back.

“You should come home.” Owen’s words have awkward pauses between them, as if he’s too choked up to speak. “Can you come home tonight?”

“I can’t.” What the hell is she saying? Still, she hears herself go on. “I really can’t. I mean—”

“What do you mean, you can’t?” She imagines Owen’s face on the other end of the line, scrunched like a balled-up tissue. “Mom’s dead. What’s wrong with you?”

“You’re right—all right, okay,” she hears herself agree, her voice far away and warbled, like she’s in a dream.

As she wanders from the Woodley Park metro station toward the general direction of her apartment, she feels suddenly like an alien life form. I am experiencing a tragic event, she wants to tell the dog walker with five French bulldogs who passes her or the woman jogger who pauses at the intersection, drinking from a clear pink plastic water bottle. She wants to grab on to someone, anyone, like a body snatcher, and switch places, away from the kettle ball in her chest, away her knotted intestines and her numb appendages.

Alex has never really done death before. She’s thirty-six and never met her grandparents; their father left when she was four. And although their mother had turned sixty a few years back, it was more like Madonna sixty than Medicare sixty. Were Alex and Owen supposed to call Aunt Johanna, other forgotten, faraway relatives in Wisconsin and Arizona, their father, wherever he was? Was some kind of funeral needed for a mother who had flitted between atheism, Wiccan, new age-y crap, and pharmaceuticals like she was at a metaphysics salad bar?

And beyond the details, which Alex is good at, what about the other, more feely things? Like the way her mother had made her feel? (Incidentally, like a neon sign, a composition of gasses and other toxic compounds compressed into a fragile glass tube that she has managed to bend into the words Alex Maas, Successful Person Who Does Not Give a Fuck.)

Except now she has to give one.

“Crap,” she says under breath as she waits for the elevator in the lobby of her building. She brings up her ex Kate’s number in her phone doesn’t press call, not only because she can’t talk to Kate anymore, but because she realizes she can’t talk to anybody. If she opens her mouth and voices the words my mom is dead, she knows any adrenaline humming through her from the shock will dissolve, adrenaline she needs to get into her apartment, throw a few days’ worth of clothes together, call Rowan at the magazine, and get to the Greyhound terminal at Union Station to catch a bus home early the next morning.

Did Owen even mention how she died? In her apartment vestibule, Alex digs her phone out again. She can’t remember how they ended the conversation, anything he had said after the words dead and come home.

“I’m so sorry.” Rowan, her boss, sounds like he’s outside. “Are you all right? Is there anything I can do?”

“No—but thanks,” Alex says as she walks in a circle in her bedroom, staring at her opened suitcase. “I just don’t know…I don’t know how much time I’ll need. A few days? I don’t know what’s supposed to happen—she always talked about being cremated. But it’s not like she wrote a will—she didn’t even believe in grocery lists.”

“But if you need anything, you’ll call, right?” he prods, as if they’re friends. Maybe, in some way, because she spends most of her time with him, most of her time at the office in general, he’s her friend. It’s not like she has many, anyway. Her fingers shake as she opens her underwear drawer.

“Yes, of course. I’m going to get off the phone, though, before I cry.”

“Sure, sure. Although you can cry on the phone—it’s okay.”

“Oh—I might need more time on the ballet company story. Can you give it to me?”

“Don’t worry about the story, Alex—we’ll find something else to run.”

She hears one of Rowan’s kids—his little girl—talking excitedly in the background. Then she thinks about the other person she had wanted to call after she got off the phone with Owen. The only person she’s ever been able to tell anything.

“Hey,” Alex says casually, as if she’s just thought of it. “What about Juliette Sprigg—didn’t you want someone to interview her?”

“You mean the profile about her restaurant? I thought someone else would cover that.”

“Yeah, but…” Alex moves into the bathroom, just in case she might throw up. “Sprigg Restaurant’s, like, five minutes from my mom’s house. I went to high school with Juliette.”

“Don’t worry about that. You’re going home to take care of what you need to take care of—not work on another story.”

“No, it’s okay—I can take it. I want to do it.” She knows Rowan will give in—he has before—four magazine awards for her stories will do that. “Can you e-mail me her contact information?”

“No,” he sighs. “I’m not. You’re taking time off. You work too much as it is.”

“Jesus, Rowan—are you really saying no?” Her voice rises, like helium, up an octave. “After all I’ve done for the magazine?”

“Alex,” he sounds defeated, like he’s speaking to his now-crying little girl. “Your mother just died.”

“Fine—I quit then.” She hangs up on him and turns on the faucet in the bathroom. As she splashes her face with water, her phone beeps. She hits the speaker with her wet hand as she reaches for the towel. “What?”

“You’re not quitting, and I’m not assigning you the story.”

She takes a breath and holds it a second before exhaling. “I’m doing the story, or I quit.”

“Hi, honey, what sweetie? Will you stop screaming? Daddy can’t understand what you want if you’re screaming.”

Suddenly there’s silence, and Alex wonders if Rowan has hung up on her this time.

“Rowan, are you there?” she whispers, her neck so tight her head pop off.

“Sorry, Alex, I’m just having some, uh—you know what? Fine, do the story. Only because I have to get off the phone. I’ll e-mail you the info of the editor at the newspaper down there—really nice woman. She paired us up with a local photographer when we did that feature on that horse whisperer guy.”

“Great.” Alex exhales and dabs tears out of her eyes as she sits on the toilet lid.

“—But I really don’t want you to do it at all.”

“I’ll be fine—it’s how I get through things.” It’s been how she’s been getting over Kate all these months. And now she’s offered, at the supposedly worst time of her life, to interview Juliette freaking Sprigg too.

As she hangs up, her stomach pushes up into her esophagus like peasants storming the Bastille. She sets her phone on the edge of the tub and wraps her arms under her knees, head on her lap, like people in the airplane safety cards do, and focuses on her breathing. Remain calm. Remain seated. Brace for impact.


NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Jen Michalski is the author of three novels, The Summer She Was Under Water, The Tide King (both from Black Lawrence Press), and You’ll Be Fine (NineStar Press), a couplet of novellas, Could You Be With Her Now (Dzanc Books), and three collections of fiction (The Company of Strangers,From Here, and Close Encounters). Her work has appeared in more than 100 publications, including Poets & Writers, The Washington Post, and the Literary Hub, and she’s been nominated for the Pushcart Prize six times. She’s also the editor of the online literary weekly jmww.

Website | Facebook | Twitter


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Release Blitz: In a Devil Bind by Makayla Roberts #eroticromance #suspense @totally_bound @firstforromance

In a Devil Bind by Makayla Roberts

Word Count: 66,127
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 242



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Book Description


It has been one hell of a week.

With a serial killer on the loose and her carnal needs spiraling out of control, the last thing Detective Cheyenne Wilcox needs is to be deterred. As her cursed fate would have it, she gets the biggest hindrance of all when she winds up drugged with a spell that prevents her from moving more than six feet away from none other than Thorne Lucifer—an egotistical playboy whom she hates more than anything. Perhaps it was a good thing he didn’t remember her from the past, because the moment they manage to find a way to break the spell, she’s going to go above and beyond to erase all traces of him from her life…again.

Chey is one hot succubus, but her detached attitude is nothing but a nuisance to Thorne. Plus, having her following him everywhere presents a threat to his hard-earned reputation as Elysium’s most eligible bachelor. However, he can’t deny the sizzling attraction between them, or the fact that her feistiness only makes him eager to have her submit to him.

There’s a fine line between lust and love, and though Chey seems determined to keep things casual until the spell is broken, for the first time in his life, Thorne is leaning more toward the latter.

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence, stalking and murder. It is best read as book two in The Lucifer Brothers series.


Waking up in a stranger’s bed was nothing new to Thorne Lucifer. At age eighty and some change, sex was one of the few things he had to keep from dying of boredom most days. If someone asked him to count how many lovers he’d taken in the past year alone—hell, the past month—he couldn’t even give two names. They all came and went—pun intended.

On this occasion, however, he couldn’t recall a day in his life when he’d awakened chained to a stranger’s bed with a splitting headache and a bad case of nausea, having been stripped down to nothing more than his socks. With a grunt, he squinted his eyes open, sighing with relief when the only lights he could make out were from a handful of dim candles that had been placed on top of a wooden dresser. He didn’t think his hangover would be very kind to him if he’d been encased in full illumination. A faint orange glow shone from the open door across from him—a bathroom, most likely.

He soon became aware of his other senses. Something smelled like mildew, piss and the very ass of hell. There was the sound of shuffling and scraping, though it was very light. It was distant, perhaps coming from another room.

Something cold and wet soaked one side of his head, so he turned a bit to spot a clear zipped bag filled with water, though the outside was coated in condensation.

Aw, his lover had been considerate enough to give him an ice pack for his hangover. How sweet.

With a snort, he waited until his vision cleared further before taking in his surroundings—moldy walls with chipped paint that had lost color long ago, a busted bubble-back TV, a crooked painting of a bland flower and furniture covered in stains that came from only-the-gods-knew what. Even the bed he was on was lumpy and uncomfortable, resulting in a deep ache in his lower back. A pile of sharp rocks would have been preferable.

He crinkled his nose in disgust. While he wasn’t as particular about his sex partners as his uptight brothers were, he was damn sure not down with doing business in raggedy motel rooms. He was a classier dude than that. He’d screw his partner in a dark alley and send her on her way before bedding down in one of these shitholes.

What gives?

He frowned, images of the previous night coming back in bits and pieces. He’d gone to one of his favorite bars on the east side of town after leaving work. It had been a slow Saturday, so he’d wanted to go out for some drinks to pass the time. He was a big drinker, so throwing back shot after shot hadn’t even given him a buzz. Instead, it’d put him in a horny mood, and he’d been scanning the crowd for the hottest woman to take home for a night of fun. If he were lucky, he would have found two of them.

It hadn’t taken long before he’d spotted a petite blonde sashaying toward him. She hadn’t been the only one interested, of course. Despite being a Lucifer, his devilishly handsome looks and easy smile always aided him in attracting the opposite sex. But that woman had been a nymph—his favorite. He’d sensed that right off the bat and wasted no time ordering a drink for her while they made small talk.

Everything went blurry from there. He vaguely recalled her leading him to the dance floor, grinding against his dick in tune with the music. Then they were outside and…everything went blank.

Frown deepening, he realized the wench must have slipped something into one of his drinks. He glanced down at his naked body, checking for any damage. Nothing. Not even a little nick from a needle drawing blood. He grunted, pushing himself up the musty pillows.

Well, damn. If she hadn’t cut him open in his sleep, what the hell had she drugged him for? He’d already planned on screwing her brains out, so if she’d thought to use him for sex, it was pointless.

“Yo, nympho. You there?” he called, his voice rough from waking up. “You can unchain me now.”

Of course, he didn’t receive an answer. However, there was another collection of shuffling and thumping from the other room. He tugged on the chains binding his wrists in a way that made him look like he was being fucking crucified. A quick glance around showed a key on the nightstand next to him, and he sighed.

An ice pack and the key to free himself. How freaking considerate of her.

As he unlocked his chains, he grumbled a series of expletives under his breath, all directed at the vixen who’d caused this. While he didn’t mind being used for sex, he’d be damned if he’d let it slide that someone had drugged him and left him in such a dank room. He didn’t even know where he was. The blondie better pray he didn’t find out her identity. He might be known as a pretty laid-back man, but he damn sure wasn’t one to be crossed.

Freed, he stood and bent his body this way and that to inspect his backside for any blemishes. It wouldn’t surprise him to find his back and ass ate up by bed bugs. He didn’t see any, but he wouldn’t hold his breath on that one. The longer he stood in the room, the grosser his skin felt.

He spotted his pants and shirt thrown over the back of an armchair and swiftly donned them, sneezing as a chill washed over him. Great. Not only were his surroundings filthy beyond repair, but there was also a draft. The top of his head felt cold as ice, despite the rest of the room feeling like a damn furnace. He pulled on his shoes and spotted his leather jacket tossed on top of the half-broken dining table. Next to it sat his cell phone and wallet, and a quick check showed that his battery had a little juice—and nothing was missing from his wallet, not even a single torq.

Before he could reach for his jacket, he paused at the sound of someone knocking—not at the front door but the one that connected his room to another.

Tensing in preparation to kick someone’s ass, he strolled over and unlocked the latch, then threw the off-white panel open. “You have two seconds to explain what—”

Thorne stumbled backward as someone crashed into him. “Fuck,” a female growled against his chest before shoving him away. Dressed only in a black bra and panties, she clutched the side of her head, her hand coming away with blood. “Fuck! I’m going to kill them. Ohhh, someone is going to fucking die tonight.”

He stiffened when she looked at him, her dark eyes mere slits of coal. She bared her teeth like a wild animal. “Did you have something to do with this?” She flashed him her palm.

He cocked one eyebrow and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I just woke up tied to the bed, lady. Not sure what the hell’s going on.” He narrowed his eyes, taking her in. She wasn’t the nymph, that was for sure. That woman had been blonde with sparkling green eyes and alabaster skin. The one before him was the total opposite. “Did you have something to do with this?”

She grumbled a curse and rushed over to his bathroom, dismissing his presence. Despite the strangeness of the circumstances and the amount of blood and dirt covering her, Thorne couldn’t help the way his gaze dropped to her rear. Hey, he was a man, after all, and he’d always loved his women with bigger assets—special emphasis on the ‘ass’ portion.

The thong she wore was shaped against her like a custom fit, the lush globes jiggling with each step she took. Her lower back had two dimples, another thing he’d always liked on women. What bits of almond-colored skin he could see looked smooth to the touch, everything tight with lean muscles that spoke of a regular exercise routine. Her raven hair was parted down the middle and pulled into two thick braids that fell nearly to her waist.

His dick grew a bit hard while he followed from a safe distance as she entered the bathroom.

Snatching up a half-empty water bottle from the sink, she grabbed a washcloth and wet it, then began to dab at her wound with light touches. “Those motherfuckers,” she jeered, wincing in pain when she applied pressure.

Thorne leaned against the doorjamb of the bathroom. “Do you have even the slightest clue what’s going on here? I can’t remember shit from last night.”

She scoffed. “That’s because somebody drugged you.”

“No shit. I’m asking who did it—and why.”

She tossed the bloodied towel aside before turning to face him. He tried to keep from gaping at her full breasts, which were barely contained by her lacy bra. She pouted, then planted one fist on her hip with no shame whatsoever at her lack of clothing. “Do you see this?” She pointed to her bleeding temple.

Forcing his gaze away from the breasts, Thorne grimaced at the deep gash struggling to knit itself closed. It was a wonder she was even conscious, given how much blood soaked her. A wave of nausea rolled through him. “Yeah, that’s gross.”

She twisted her lips into a grim line. “Those bastards are dead when I get my hands on them. Do you hear me? D-E-A-D.” Before he could ask what she meant, she eyed him with caution. “You’d better get yourself checked. From what I know about devils, you guys can regenerate, but you can still catch an infection.”

He frowned, doing everything he could to keep himself from throwing up. The bleeding had slowed to a stop, but the raw pink tissue lying beneath was what sickened him. “What are you talking about? I’m fine.”

She lifted a brow, peering at the top of his head. “Sure, you are, Thorne.”

With that, she slid past him and made her way back to her room. Thorne frowned after her. “How do you know my name?” He didn’t bother trying to hide the suspicion in his voice. He’d be lying if he said she looked familiar. He’d come across so many women in his life that there was no telling who she was. Then again, there were few people who didn’t know him. He was a Lucifer, after all. Their name was known far and wide as they sat atop the pillar of the Big Four families in Sheol. “Have we met before?”

She snorted in derision. “If you have to ask that, then no.” She didn’t even hesitate as she stepped over the threshold.

Thorne meant to follow her to get more information, but he paused at the sight of himself in the broken mirror. All the color drained from his face as he blinked at his reflection.

There, on the top of his head, was the worst monstrosity he’d seen since…since…hell if he knew. He couldn’t even think of the proper words to compare it to, but it was disastrous.

His horns. His beautiful, six-inch, curved horns that held engraved patterns that were a proud sign of maturity and virility…

One was missing. Gone. Cut from his head, leaving him looking like a lopsided freak of nature. Like a fucking unicorn or something.

At the top of his lungs, he bellowed, “What the fuck!

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About the Author

Makayla Roberts

Makayla’s love for reading began at the age of twelve when her mother introduced her to the world of mystical creatures. From then on, she discovered a talent for turning her own imagination into words. From fanfictions to short stories to full-length novels and novellas, if she wasn’t focused on school activities, she was either reading or writing.

Raised on the coast of Mississippi, Makayla juggles her everyday life between work and being a mom. In her free time, she enjoys binge watching criminal suspense shows, shopping, painting, wood burning, and of course, working on her books.

Makayla enjoys writing stories with strong elements of romance, adventure, and paranormal. Vampires, shifters, fairies, dragons—she loves them all!


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Makayla Roberts’s In a Devil Bind Giveaway

ENTER HERE AND GET A FREE EBOOK FROM THE AUTHOR! Notice: This competition ends on 17th August 2021 at 5pm GMT. Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.


New Release: Reluctant Lumberjack by Lynn Burke #MMF #Menage #Bisexual @AuthorLynnBurke

From bestselling & award-winning author Lynn Burke comes a standalone MMF novel in the Cocky Hero Club world!


Amazon US →

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Twenty years ago, I loved a woman.

Twenty years ago, I also loved a man.

And twenty years ago, rather than choose, I abandoned them both.

Now, I’m living a lonely life, luckless in love and unwilling to confront the truth of what I left behind.

When my brother passes, I become responsible for my four-year-old niece. Uprooting her isn’t an option which means heading back to the sticks of New Hampshire, to the small town I fled.

Because of Charlotte.

Because of Liam.

My two best friends, the ones I’d been reluctant to pursue but couldn’t deny.

Attempting to avoid facing my past doesn’t work, and I see them both—together. They appear to have moved on while I can’t.

I still want her.

I still want him.

But secrets lay between us, betrayals that threaten to crack the egg shells we walk on.

I’ve got more than my own heart to look out for now, and I’ll protect those I love this time around.

No matter the cost.

Add Reluctant Lumberjack to your GR TBR →


Lynn Burke is an international bestselling and award-winning author. A stay-at-home mom, she’s a lover of coffee and vino, and with three spawn and two fur babies underfoot, noise levels dictate the daily switch-over time. In her few quiet ‘me’ moments, she can be found hunched over her Mac, trying to type as fast as her muse spews hot stories.

Find Lynn on FacebookTwitterAmazonInstagram, and BookBub.

Release Blitz & Review: Homefront by Jaxon Altieri #GayRomance #ContemporaryRomance @ninestarpress @GoIndiMarketing

Title: Homefront

Author: Jaxon Altieri

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 07/26/2021

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 19500

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, military, PTSD, veteran, hurt/comfort, coming out, grief

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Sergeant Daniel Malone is back in the States after being medically discharged for severe PTSD. In his hands, he holds a letter given to him by a fallen friend. The letter, the last note from Eric, the soldier’s brother, is of his coming out and needing his brother’s support.

Daniel insists on returning it to Eric and telling him that his brother supported and loved him, but Eric blames Daniel for his brother’s death. Daniel gives the worn letter to Eric in the hope it brings him peace but can’t stay away as the words of the message and seeing Eric for the first time have stirred feelings in Daniel’s heart that he’d never felt before.

Even though Eric seems to want nothing to do with him, fate and the letter written to a brother could be what brings them together or drives them apart.


Daniel Malone followed the yellow line on the road as it raced past him. The bus he rode traveled along the coastline to Jasper Falls, a coastal town in upstate Maine. The painted lines on the highway hypnotized him, and drew him closer to the window. Waves crashed upon the shore. Overhead, seagulls flapped their wings in the blue sky. Oaks and maples swayed in the breeze, bringing a rare smile to Daniel’s face.

A small jump off the bus onto those rocks and my life would be over. But I can’t, I have a letter to return. I made a promise to an old friend.

“Attention passengers, we are reaching your destination,” said the bus driver,

A bump in the road jolted him out of his reverie. Within minutes, the bus would pull into town. He had limited knowledge of the place except for where his hotel was and what his friend and fellow soldier, Shawn, had told him. Even then, his words didn’t do any justice to the area.

Green leaves shook as the coastal breeze danced in their canopies. The sun shone in the blue sky with only a few scattered clouds, seemingly stretching forever. How many stars decorated the night sky? The Atlantic Ocean looked magnificent compared to what he’d seen of the vast body of water overseas.

Daniel would deliver this letter. It’s what Shawn would’ve wanted me to do. Daniel knew he had changed since the war. He hoped above all, that here, he could find peace. God, I need help. I hate who I am now. An emptiness filled his soul, preventing Daniel from feeling anything. It made him nauseous and his stomach twisted in knots. Daniel liked the view, but the numbness stretched as wide as the ocean and prevented him from enjoying it like he would have as a kid.

In his hand, he carried a letter. Usually, he tucked it into his pocket so he wouldn’t lose it. As the bus got closer to town, he took it out to hold. As if grasping it held the bad memories at bay. It helped him protect something precious when he failed at it only months earlier. Perhaps it did. I’ll do a better job with this letter than I did for my friend.

Daniel ran his hand across the envelope. He had memorized every word and wrinkle in the paper. The words inside it burned like an oil well fire in a combat zone. He followed the cursive handwriting of the letter’s sender.

The envelope was addressed to Shawn by his brother, Eric. Before Shawn died, he made Daniel swear to find Eric and tell him everything was okay. It was his dying wish.

I won’t let you down, buddy. This was your dying wish and I’ll make sure he gets the letter. It’s the least I can do considering I failed you once already. Daniel could taste sand and smoke from the battle mixed with bile. Daniel cleared his throat and gripped the arm rest by his side. I can do this.

Chances of him getting anywhere in life were slim at the moment; no one wants to deal with a crazy vet. An honorable discharge with a Purple Heart won’t get me far in the private sector. Hollywood movies never get that right.

He hadn’t read the note at first. It wasn’t his business. After a few days, grief overcame him. No one would know if he read it. Hell, he couldn’t resist the urge to do so. It was his only remaining link to Shawn and that he lived and died. Shawn may not have mattered to the others, but he mattered to me. Plus, the medics at the hospital left him alone and never asked about those in his unit. Even the survivors of his unit failed to show up and see him in the hospital. Even the brass in the chain of command was already pushing him out of the system. I was no longer useful to the nation. A tear streaked down Daniel’s face, which he wiped away so no one would see.

Daniel slowly unfolded the worn letter. His strong hands, trained for war, handled the message as delicately as a lover. In his head, the voice of a man whom he had never met echoed loud and clear:

Dear Shawn,

I know we’ve gone through so much. Not just for our little town, but for the country. I stay awake at night, fearful that I’d never see you again. I have so much to tell you, but I’d be wrong in saying I’d know where to begin. Life in the past few years have been rough and confusing. Sometimes I didn’t understand who I was. I’d spoken to a counselor to get myself in check and finally find comfort in who I am. Few people in our little conservative town would never like it, and hate me, but I can’t deny what was in my heart all along about who I am as a man today. I’m gay. You always told me I was different, and you may have known before I did. You were always smarter and stronger than me. I need your strength now; I can’t deal with this alone. I need your support as you’re all I have left. Please write me back. I’ll be here waiting for a reply or a sign, whichever comes first. Life wasn’t easy for either of us. This probably isn’t a burden you want to deal with, but I need your help, as I can’t do this alone. I don’t have the strength, and you’d always say you’d be here for me. Well, I need you now.

Love, Eric.


NineStar Press | Books2Read

MY REVIEW – 4 stars

Daniel and Eric’s story is one of loss and love. Daniel lost his best friend in Afghanistan and lost part of himself as well. He’s broken and spiraling… until Eric. His best friend’s brother gives him hope even as Eric pushes him away. There were times the story seemed a bit repetitive but the pain both men felt leaped off the pages. I only wish it had been longer and included a peek at what happened before the opening scene. I’d have preferred to “see” the event that started Daniel’s journey instead of being told about it through Daniel’s inner thoughts and dialogue with Eric. I think it would have strengthened my connection with Daniel’s character.

Homefront is an emotional read that will make your heart hurt for both Daniel and Eric. But through their loss and pain, they find something wonderful — love.

*I received an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Meet the Author

Jaxon is a professional freelance writer specializing in Digital Content Services. Through his clientele he has reached a worldwide platform for his content services and is looking to expand his writing to include fiction, specifically in the LGBT genre. He is a prolific artist and like many people, he believes that love at first sight is a possibility when you meet a kindred soul. When not writing, he’s playing with his dogs, watching low-budget horror movies, and hanging with his partner.

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New Paperback: Slash/Patriot by Harley Wylde #bikerromance #romanticsuspense @HarleyW_Writer

Slash (Devil’s Fury MC 7)

Shella — Trouble always seems to find me, so it’s no surprise I ended up pregnant, alone, and scared out of my mind. Then Slash shows up. Out of all the Devil’s Fury brothers to come for me, why did it have to be the one I’ve been crushing on since I was a teenager?

Slash — Only way to protect Shella is to give her my name. Doesn’t matter I’m old enough to be her father. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe… even if it means burying a few men. I already have blood on my hands. What’s a little more?

Patriot (Hades Abyss MC 6)

MaryAnne — I thought my life was over, until my knight in shining armor came to save me. Patriot. Under that hard exterior is a heart of gold. It doesn’t matter that he’s older than me. But why would a man like him ever want someone like me? I’m damaged. Broken beyond repair. Or am I? After all, Christmas is a time for miracles.

Patriot — I’ve taken out nearly every man who ever hurt MaryAnne, even if she doesn’t know it. And the two still standing won’t be for long. I’m no angel. She deserves better. And if she won’t listen to me, then maybe my whacky parrot can convince her. If there’s one thing the African Grey excels at, it’s talking when he shouldn’t.

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Harley Wylde
Excerpt from Patriot

I’d been staying with Patriot for a few months now, and I still kept waiting for something bad to happen. No one had been mean to me, or tried to touch me since I’d come here. I wasn’t sure I believed I was safe. Except with Patriot. He was the only one I trusted in this place. Even my cousin made me feel hesitant. It wasn’t that I thought Sean would hurt me, but he’d changed and I didn’t know this new version.

I stared at the pale yellow walls and delicate white curtains at the window. The room was soft and feminine, and a far cry from how it had looked when I first arrived. Patriot had worked hard to give me a place to call a safe haven. He’d painted the room himself and hung the curtains. I’d been too timid to ask for anything, so he’d also purchased bedding he thought I might like.

He’d treated me better than anyone ever had, even before I’d been kidnapped. I knew he probably wanted his home back. Even though he’d been unfailingly kind to me, I couldn’t help but wonder if he only tolerated my presence. When I’d first arrived, Sean hadn’t been in any sort of shape to take care of me, so Patriot had permitted me to stay with him. My cousin was back on his feet now, and yet I hadn’t moved out.

I heard classic rock blaring out front and peered through my window down below. Patriot was on his back under the Bronco, his tools scattered around him and his jeans smeared with oil. I liked standing here, watching him. Maybe it made me a bit of a stalker, but there was something about him that drew me like a moth to a flame. I knew he was older than me, probably by quite a bit, but he was also handsome. I’d even go so far as to call him sexy, and I hadn’t thought I’d ever feel that way about a man. Not after all I’d endured.

He slid out from under the Bronco and yanked his shirt over his head, tossing it aside. My breath caught at the perfection of his body. His arms and chest were inked and covered in muscle. The sun glinted on his reddish-brown hair, making it shine with copper tones. I sighed and wondered how he wasn’t cold without his shirt. It was nearly December, and not exactly warm outside.

My phone rang, making me jump away from the window. I picked it up off the bed and saw it was my cousin.

“Hi, Sean.” He growled softly and I winced. “Sorry. Galahad.”

“It’s been three months, MaryAnne. Last thing I need is you slipping up and calling me Sean in front of my brothers. It shows a lack of respect.”

I sank to the floor, my back to the wall, and drew my knees to my chest. His tone of voice sent me back to a place I never wanted to go. My hand trembled as I held onto the phone. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I sometimes forget you’re still a kid,” he said. “Try to remember, okay? I’m not angry. Not really. You’ve been through hell and don’t need me fussing at you.”

The last thing I wanted was for anyone to call me a kid. I’d had to grow up fast after I’d been kidnapped. I’d met women ten years older than me who acted like they were still in high school.

“Why did you call?” I asked.

“Patriot isn’t answering his phone. I needed to ask him something. Can you get him for me?”

I chewed on my lower lip. Yeah, I could technically walk out and hand my phone to him. I wasn’t sure I was comfortable doing it. Taking a breath, I steadied my nerves and got up. Even though I had on fuzzy peppermint-striped socks that matched my red sweater and skinny jeans, I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to go out without shoes. Then again, it was the end of November in Mississippi. There was a chance it was in the seventies outside. I liked to be completely covered, head to toe, these days. Even having bare arms made me feel exposed.

I padded downstairs and went out the front door. The music was even louder as I approached Patriot. He’d slid back under the Bronco so that only his legs stuck out. I nudged his calf with my toes. His body went tight, and he slowly came out from under the vehicle. My throat went dry and my hand shook as I handed my phone to him. A frown marred his handsome face as he stood and took it.

“Who is this?” he demanded, keeping an eye on me. He listened a moment and his eyes narrowed. “What the fuck did you say to MaryAnne?”

I sucked in a breath. I’d noticed he was protective of me, but my heart always gave a little kick whenever he got that tone with someone. He didn’t like it when anyone upset me, and it was only one of the reasons I’d started to fall a little in love with him. Except I’d recently turned seventeen and he was a grown man who could have any woman he wanted. Why would he want someone like me anyway? I knew he’d seen the videos of what happened at the hospital where they’d left me. Even if I ever felt I was ready to date, no one would ever want to touch me. Certainly no one who knew about my past, and I wasn’t comfortable leaving the compound to start a new life elsewhere. It wasn’t safe outside the gates.

He grunted and muttered something into the phone before disconnecting the call and handing the phone back to me. I took it and slipped it into my pocket, then shifted from foot to foot. He watched me, not moving or saying a word. Did he want me to leave? I backed up a step and he reached out, wrapping his fingers around my wrist only to release me just as quick.

“You have everything you need?” he asked.

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

“I’ll be done out here in about a half hour. I’ll need a shower, but when I’m done we can go grab a bite to eat. You feel up to going out somewhere?”

I hesitated. I loved spending time with him, but leaving the compound still frightened me a little. I knew they’d taken care of the rival club, and I’d heard the staff at the hospital were being picked off one by one. What I didn’t know was whether or not I’d run into anyone who’d purchased time with me during my captivity. I wasn’t sure I was brave enough to face any of those men.

Patriot moved a step closer and reached out, tugging a lock of my hair. “I’ll keep you safe, Little Bit. Promise. No one will so much as breathe wrong in your direction. If they do, I’ll gut them where they stand.”

My lips twitched with a smile. I knew he’d do it too. He’d slammed the doctor against a concrete wall when he’d come to pick me up at the hospital. Granted, the man was a rapist and murderer. He’d deserved what he got and so much more.

“All right. I’ll go.”


Harley Wylde is the International Bestselling Author of the Dixie Reapers MC, Devil’s Boneyard MC, and Hades Abyss MC series.

When Harley’s writing, her motto is the hotter the better — off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place. She doesn’t shy away from the dangers and nastiness in the world, bringing those realities to the pages of her books, but always gives her characters a happily-ever-after and makes sure the bad guys get what they deserve. 

The times Harley isn’t writing, she’s thinking up naughty things to do to her husband, drinking copious amounts of Starbucks, and reading. She loves to read and devours a book a day, sometimes more. She’s also fond of TV shows and movies from the 1980’s, as well as paranormal shows from the 1990’s to today, even though she’d much rather be reading or writing.

You can find out more about Harley or enter her monthly giveaway on her website. Be sure to join her newsletter while you’re there to learn more about discounts, signing events, and other goodies!

Preorder: Fox (Hades Abyss MC) by Harley Wylde #romanticsuspense #darkromance @HarleyW_Writer

☆✼★━━Preorder for August 20th━★✼☆

 Fox (Hades Abyss MC) by Harley Wylde

Published by Changeling Press

Cover Art by Bryan Keller

#ContemporaryRomance #AgeGap #BikerRomance

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Raven — I learned the hard way not to trust anyone. First the men who’d hurt me, and then my mother when she turned her back on me. I had no one. Was it any wonder I didn’t think I had a reason to keep living? A good Samaritan had other ideas, landing me in a psychiatric hospital. Too bad the guards were every bit as evil as those men I’d trusted.

I thought I’d die alone. Unwanted. Unloved. Forgotten. Until the Hades Abyss MC came to take me away. They claim my father sent them, except I’ve never met him. Don’t even know his name. I’d try to run, but what’s the point? Besides, there’s one man who makes me feel safe. Fox. It doesn’t matter that he’s older than me. When he holds me, I know nothing will ever hurt me again. I just didn’t count on losing my heart to him.

Fox — Breaker brought Hatchet’s daughter to the clubhouse, and the moment I looked into those vacant eyes, I knew she’d been badly broken. Some part of me wanted to fix her. Put the pieces back together. Watch her eyes light up and see her smile. She thinks she’s dirty, that no one will ever want her. She’s wrong. I want her. I even want the baby growing inside her.

Never thought I’d find the woman meant to be mine. Now that I’ve had Raven in my arms, chased away her nightmares, kissed her tears away, I know I can’t let her go. I’ll make her mine — the baby too — and I won’t let anyone stand in my way.

WARNING: Fox is part of the Hades Abyss MC series. Be warned there are adult situations and language, violence, darker themes that may trigger some readers like suicide and assault. Guaranteed Happily-Ever-After, no cheating, and no cliffhanger!

 Get it here ⬇️


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Available August 13 at Changeling Press:

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✲꘏  SNEAK PEEK  ꘏✲

Copyright ©2021 Harley Wylde

I felt the burn of a tear slip down my cheek and before I knew it, I was in Fox’s arms and sobbing. I hadn’t cried in so long. It felt satisfying and horrible at the same time.

“Surge, I need you and any other hackers to look into Balmoral. See what you can find so we can bury those fuckers,” Spider said. “Raven, I don’t have a place for you to live on your own. Breaker brought you here. Do you want to stay with him?”

I sniffled and looked up at Fox. A slight smile kicked up the corner of his lips and he ran his hand over my hair. “She can stay with me. I have an extra room.”

“That what you want, Raven?” Spider asked. “To stay with Fox?”

I nodded, not looking away from the first man to ever make me feel seen. Understood. My heart raced and I trembled, but it wasn’t from fear. Not this time. For once, I felt like things might be okay. I didn’t know the man they claimed was my father, but if they trusted him, I’d at least meet with him. Until then, I’d stay with Fox. I could feel it deep in my gut that he’d keep me safe. Possibly even from myself. I couldn’t promise the dark thoughts wouldn’t return. I might always have days where I wanted to end it all.

The thought of staying with Fox made me feel warmer inside. The shadows were still there, pressing in, but they were held at bay. If latching onto Fox would make things better, even a little, then I knew I needed to hold onto him.

New Release & Author Interview: Penalty Kicks by D.S. Dehel #sportsromance

Penalty Kicks by D.S. Dehel

Published by Changeling Press

Cover Art by Angela Knight

India Roberts can’t wait until her divorce is final, when she’ll be Ms. Jackson again. At forty, she’s waited long enough to pursue her goal of becoming a fashion designer.

What she doesn’t need is a new romance. But when soccer player Matt Bettony rescues her from a bad date and makes her night oh-so-much better, she discovers she’s ready for something else. Thirteen years her junior, he’s the perfect fit for a no-strings love affair that won’t interfere with her dream… until Matt gets other ideas.

Get it at Changeling Press | Add to Goodreads

Interview with D.S. Dehel

BOOKS+COFFEE: When did you know you wanted to be a writer?

DS DEHEL: Words were always an integral part of who I am. Always. I knew when I was very young that I wanted to be a writer, maybe 5. I still have a story I started when I was 7.  It’s not as terrible as one would think. Even the title is a pun.

BOOKS+COFFEE: How long have you been writing, and how long did it take before your first book was published?

DS DEHEL: In terms of actively writing a book from start to finish, it’s almost six years. It took two years—and quite a few rejections–before I was published

BOOKS+COFFEE: Do you have a routine you follow when you’re working on a book? A certain time of day when you write, or a snack you keep nearby?

DS DEHEL: Not really, I know I should have a routine, but they just end up frustrating me. Usually, I write when the idea has reached a point where it has to come out. Trying before that is fruitless, and it’s crap. I’ve learned that if I am patient with myself, I can write a lot in a short amount of time that is actually useable. In some ways when the story is flowing, I get like Joan Wilder in Romancing the Stone, everything goes to hell around me until it’s done, and I will write for hours and hours. I just have to wait for story to develop enough to reach that point.

BOOKS+COFFEE: Did anyone give you writing advice when you were first getting started? Do you think it helped?

DS DEHEL: Yes. When I was in college, I took a writing class with an award winning author. He was lovely and personable, and most importantly, he told me I had potential, but he also told me that I had to write when I was young, or it would never happen. Finances and life in general wouldn’t allow me to be a writer of any sort at the time. For some, it might have been dispiriting, but I tucked away the knowledge that someone, somewhere thought I was good enough. When I had the headspace and money to allow me to consider being a writer, I set out to prove him wrong. Those two facts got me through some tough times. Like so much advice given to writers, his advice to pursue my dream then or lose it, was well-intentioned, but incorrect. When my first book was published, I reached out to him, and he told me he was proud.

BOOKS+COFFEE: What is the scariest thing you face as a writer? How do you handle it?

DS DEHEL: Before becoming a writer, I taught high school for over 25 years, because of that, very little about any job scares me. But if I had to point to one thought that troubles me from time to time, it’s that I might run out of ideas. Then I remember I taught high school for 25 years, and mining that alone would provide me enough characters and plot lines for the rest of my life.

BOOKS+COFFEE: Is there a book, movie, or song that inspires you when you’re working?

DS DEHEL: For me, it would be music before the others, but no, there isn’t one particular song that inspires me. Instead, I make a Spotify playlist and a Pinterest board for each work. Those I turn to time and again to keep me going. For example, the music that’s the soundtrack for the current idea marinating in my brain is Dua Lipa’s “Physical” and Todrick Hall’s “Hair, Nails, Hips, Heels.” It may be only those two, or I may add more. It’s hard to tell.

BOOKS+COFFEE: As a writer, I’m sure you also love reading. Do you have a favorite book and what do you love about it?

DS DEHEL: Asking me to choose a favorite book is like asking which of my children is my favorite. I can’t do it. Having said that, there are a few I revisit time and again. Chief among these is Alan Moore and Dave Gibbon’s Watchmen.  First of all, this book rocked my world as a teen, changing the way I thought about “comic books.” It’s also brilliantly written and illustrated. There is such a complex, beautifully constructed plot, so much nuance, and multi-layered characters. Each time I read, I see something different, appreciate something new. Though it may seem odd for a romance writer to point to a graphic novel, I think it is easier for me to analyze technique because it is a different genre. I’m not so caught up in comparing myself to the writer.

BOOKS+COFFEE: What do you think is the most important thing to remember when following your dreams?

DS DEHEL: For most dreams, there’s not a due date. Sure, you might be too old to be a Prima Ballerina for the New York Ballet, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be on stage and performing as long as you like.

Now, let’s talk a little about your current book…

BOOKS+COFFEE: What’s the title of your current release and is it part of a series?

DS DEHEL: My upcoming release is called Penalty Kicks. It’s part of a two-book series with the over-arching title of Game of Two Halves. The funny part is, a reader has already asked me why I’m not planning a story for each of the players on the team.

BOOKS+COFFEE: Who published Penalty Kicks?

DS DEHEL: It’s my first book with Changeling Press, and I cannot gush enough about how wonderful the process had been and how excited I am.

BOOKS+COFFEE: Your cover looks amazing. Do you know who the artist is?

DS DEHEL: Yes, Angela Knight made my gorgeous cover.

BOOKS+COFFEE: Was there something in particular that inspired you to write this story?

DS DEHEL: My husband loves soccer. He plays two to three times a week, and we watch MLS, the Premier League and the big championships. It came from doing this for the past 26 years. And let’s face it, there are lots of cute players to inspire me.

BOOKS+COFFEE: If there’s one thing a reader will take away from this story, what do you hope it is?

DS DEHEL: The main character, India, put off her dreams for her husband’s career, until she woke up one day and decided she’d had enough. It was time to live for herself, so the book is about chasing those dreams and finding true love…even if that love is seventeen years her junior.

BOOKS+COFFEE: Any funny stories you can share about writing this book, or something that sparked the idea for it?

DS DEHEL: Usually, I keep my husband far away from what I am writing, but for this, I frequently needed his advice and feedback for the soccer related sections. I know a lot about soccer, but not enough. I think he had a lot of fun helping me create the fictional team Matt plays for—The Spirit. As for an idea spark, it was probably sitting in the stadium watching my umpteenth soccer game.

About the Author

D. S. Dehel is a lover of literature, good food, and the Oxford comma. When she is not immersed in a book, she is mom to her kids and spoiling her rather pampered feline, Mr. Darcy or her equally pampered puppy, Jameson, and her slightly psychotic Australian Shepherd, Piper. Having finally retire, she spends her days dreaming up new plotlines. She adores literary allusions, writing sex scenes, and British men. Actually, make that hot men in general. Her devoted husband is still convinced she writes children’s books. Please don’t enlighten him.

Release Blitz: Only You (Second Chance Omegas) by Willa Okati #mpreg #paranormal #LGBTQ @willaokati @GoIndiMarketing

Title: Only You

Series: Second Chance Omegas #1

Author: Willa Okati

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: July 30, 2021

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 100

Genre: Romance, paranormal, urban fantasy, sex/gender shifters & mpreg, second chances, action adventure

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Second Chance — a small town where anything can happen — and does.

Once upon a time, a eighteen year old Alpha named Alex fell in love with a pretty Omega boy from the wrong side of the tracks. Zachary was everything he’d ever wanted — sweet, sassy, and sexy as hell. Alex would have married that boy and raised baby after baby with him — if Zachary hadn’t run away when Alex popped the question.

Alex doesn’t give up easily. When a train derails on its way to Alex’s hometown, he’s finally got another shot at the one who got away, and he’s not going to waste it. Now he’s got Zachary in his sights, and he’s never letting go again.

It killed Zachary to let Alex go the first time. He loved that man as much as Alex loved him, and he’s never fallen out of love, but he left to give Alex his best chance at living his best life. Zachary can’t — won’t — be sorry for that, no matter what it cost him.

Stranded in Second Chance with nowhere else to go and no way to get there, Zachary’s got no choice but to accept the help and shelter Alex offers. The chemistry’s still there. The desire. The connection. The yearning. But when the secrets they’ve both been keeping come to light, will they shatter their bond for keeps, or bring them together in a forever kind of love?


All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Willa Okati

“Coffee, sir?”

“As much of it as you can fit in a cup. No cream but double the sugar. Please.”

The train attendant shook his head, but with a smile and a finger briefly pressed to his lips as he passed over not one but two Styrofoam cups filled to the brim. He was an Omega too, in his mid-thirties by the look of him, and he wore a black jet widower’s ring instead of a wedding band. Things weren’t much easier for the widowed than the unmated or separated. He understood.

Zach took a grateful gulp, not caring that the coffee was hot enough to scald his throat, and asked, “How far behind schedule are we?” Stretching his legs at the next station would do him good; they ached when he stayed still for too long.

“About half an hour, at this point.”

Wishing wouldn’t make the wheels turn faster, but with nothing to look at outside in the dark, Zach adjusted his position so he could get a better view of the passengers in his car. Like most Omegas, he wasn’t very tall. Some new folks had gotten on and others disembarked while he’d dozed, and he liked wondering what their stories were. Two young Alphas who acted like frat bros; interesting, they weren’t the usual size for Alphas, but small and compact and they weren’t at each other’s throats but laughed and joked like best friends. A couple that had to be recently married from the way they could barely resist climbing all over each other; an Omega with a contented smile, probably on his way back home, and —


Oh, God.

Zach’s heart jumped into his throat and wedged stuck there even around the burn of his beverage. Three rows ahead, dark wheat-blond hair and a profile almost as familiar as his own turned to smile at the attendant as he refused their offer of coffee. It couldn’t be, it couldn’t be, he hadn’t seen that profile since he was eighteen, but — He’d changed — well, he’d grown up, the way everyone did, the bones of his face maturing from soft boyish cuteness to strong, masculine definition. A short beard, trimmed and shaped, that suited his strong, stubborn jaw. The kind of casual suit that would have cost the equivalent of a month’s rent in Manhattan. Elegant hands with sturdy knuckles and deft fingers, and a smile that lit up the train.

He did and didn’t look a thing like the boy Zach remembered but it was, it was, it was him.


Zach would have known him anywhere, even if he’d shaved his head and started scowling instead of smiling. If he closed his eyes, he could feel those hands on the bare skin of memory. After all, you never forgot your first.

“I love you. And I know you love me too.”

He should stop staring. Alex would sense it any second now, and he might look around, and —

His gaze drifted back up, drawn like a moth to a flame.

Alex. Oh, Alex.

Zach’s body twitched with the first pangs of arousal, wanting what he’d had once upon a time. He remembered it all, and he remembered it perfectly. He dreamed about it, when he slept. The taste of Alex’s skin, the softness and hardness of his mouth and how his eagerness had nearly rubbed the insides of Zach’s thighs raw. The fullness, almost too much and too tight, when he slid inside Zach.

“I love you. And I know you love me too.”

Anger slowly took alarm and unhappiness’s place – anger, and frustration with himself. Zach should have sensed this train was to be avoided. Dodged. Something! And Alex, sitting there as if he didn’t have a care in the world – it was everything Zach had wanted for him, the entire reason he’d left Alex in the first place, but seeing it in the flesh opened all those old wounds back up and made them bleed afresh. The pain from that moment of saying no to what Alex had offered with all his big, warm heart cut sharper than any knife – but he’d had to. You didn’t do that to your first boyfriend, did you? Take him up on a marriage proprosal and tie him down to a shitty life based on a few promises made in the afterglow?

He’d done the right thing by saying no, leaving, and giving Alex his freedom. Zach knew that. Was sure of it. Even if none of that had ever made him feel any better about it.

They must have been traveling farther and faster than Zach had realized, or he was more out of it than he’d known. Between one blink and the next the train’s PA system crackled to far-too-loud life again, announcing they’d reach their next station at Second Chance in ten minutes. Second Chance? What kind of name was that for a town?

Alex looked up at the speaker, nodded in an absent sort of way, and stood to open the overhead compartment. He took out a bulging messenger bag and slung it over his shoulder and stuffed a pair of thick gloves and a warm knit hat in the pockets of his coat. This would be his stop.

Zach caught his lip between his teeth, torn between – it was pure foolishness, the idea of going to him — and sanity, staying right where he was.

Let it go.

Zach would have, really he would. But as Alex walked past him – always so eager to do things, that one; he would start heading for the exits before the train had even come to a halt — he only made it two steps past Zach’s seat before he stopped. As Zach’s heart sank down past the pit of his stomach he saw Alex pause, then turn to look back.

He stopped, just like Zach had, blank with surprise. “Do I know you?”

Zach held his breath. Could he lie? Yes, but this new, matured Alex would have the life experience not to believe him, and he hadn’t changed nearly as much as Alex had. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“I do know you. I know your face,” Alex said. His voice had matured with the rest of him as he aged, going from sweet to firm with a raspy vocal fry on the edges. “Zach?”


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Meet the Author

Willa Okati (AKA Will) is made of many things: imagination, coffee, stray cat hairs, daydreams, more coffee, kitchen experimentation, a passion for winter weather, a little more coffee, a whole lot of flowering plants and a lifelong love of storytelling. Will’s definitely one of the quiet ones you have to watch out for, though he — not she anymore — is a lot less quiet these days.

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Book Tour: Rescue Me by Andrew Grey #contemporaryromance #LGBTQ @andrewgreybooks

Title: Rescue Me
Author: Andrew Grey
Series: Standalone
Genre:  M/M
Contemporary Romance
Publisher: DreamSpinner Press
Release Date: July 20, 2021
Edition/Formats Available In: eBook
Everybody needs to be rescued sometime.
Veterinarian Mitchell Brannigan gets off to a rocky start
with his new neighbor when someone calls the town to complain about the noise.
Mitchell runs a shelter for rescue dogs, and dogs bark. But when he goes to
make peace, he meets Beau Pfister and his fussy baby daughter, Jessica… and
starts to fall in love.
Beau moved out to the country to get away from his abusive
ex-husband, but raising an infant alone, with no support network, is lonely and
exhausting. The last thing he expects is a helping hand from the neighbor whose
dogs he complained about.
Mitchell understands what it’s like to live in fear of your
ex, and he’s determined to help Beau move on. But when an unseen menace
threatens the shelter and Beau, it becomes apparent that he hasn’t dealt with
his own demons.
With each other and a protective Chihuahua for support,
Mitchell, Beau, and Jessica could make a perfect family. Mitchell won’t let
anything happen to them.
But who’s going to rescue him?

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