Sideswiped by Lauren Alsten #RomCom #agegap @LaurenAlsten

How many times will Tara swipe right before realizing her perfect lover is already in her bed?

Jared might be stuck in an unfulfilling job, but he knows what he wants to be doing. He also knows who he wants to be with — Tara, a.k.a. The Goth Girl Next Door he’s fantasized about for years. He’s not bothered by their age difference, but everyone else seems to be. Tara thinks he’s just a plaything, his brother thinks she’s a witch, and his parents think she’s trouble.

Jared thinks she’s perfect.

Tara loves her job as a sex streamer, but since quarantine, she’s tired of flying solo. Then she teams up with her zygote of a neighbor, and her tips soar. So does her pleasure, yet she keeps swiping, searching for a mature, responsible LTR-worthy man.

Jared’s convinced he’s everything she needs, but can they keep their relationship hot without their passion self-destructing?

Get it at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Lauren Alsten

“I offer people who are bored with their lives new ways of dealing with situations. You know, encourage them to explore their options. Around the house. Decorating, and… stuff.” She plucks out some threads, tossing them on the floor before smoothing her hands down her thighs.

I stroke my chin in mock contemplation, but instead of making me look wise, it pushes my mask up my nose and into my eyes. I bump it back down and stifle the nervous urge to cough. “How does one manage one’s lifestyle situations, exactly?” Now that we’re conversing instead of eyeing each other up, I hold the advantage. Visually, she owns me, because while I look at her, my mind turns to mush. However, verbal repartee is my strong suit.

Her so-called Lifestyle Management Blog is a front. I know this; she knows this. But she doesn’t know I know. I mean, what twenty-one-year-old guy gives a shit about lifestyle management? The blog we’re pretending to talk about does exist, but she only posts on it once or twice a month. Her real moneymaker is most likely her live sex stream and blog, where she directs, and acts out, scandalous sexual encounters. Of course, there are lots of costumes and masks involved. She’s never revealed too much of her face. Other things, I have intimate knowledge of. I clutch the pillow tighter.

The reason I know about her blogs at all is because of remote office hours. In between researching company stock histories, I fuck around on social media. My brother posted something on Facebook about his law firm’s company picnic, and Allie had liked it. Out of curiosity, I clicked on her profile, thinking she’d lead me to Tara.

Allie’s page was filled with books, and her friends list didn’t include her sister. I scrolled through two years of library news and craft shit until I hit paydirt: a photo of both sisters, captioned We may be different, but we both love our jobs! P.S. Mine’s temporary!

The women held up their arms. Tara’s wrist sported a slightly red, brand new tattoo while Allie’s sparkled with a butterfly decal. They were tagged at Tats-n-Sticks Tattoo & Body Mod Shop just inside the city. I clicked the link. Tara wasn’t in many photos, but Pages Liked by This Page included one called Downright Dirty.

Now, I’ve researched a lot of porn sites — how else is a guy supposed to learn? — but the cover image of Downright Dirty drew me in immediately. It featured a masked woman, her red-streaked, black hair framing her face as she towered over a bound man spread-eagle on a bed. Something about the tilt of her head, the curve of her shoulder… and a bright red cherry tattoo on her right shoulder blade. I zoomed in to confirm it was the same one I’d seen years ago during her bike-washing bonanza. Tara working at a tat shop that liked an X-rated page whose owner sported the exact same tat? Not a coincidence.

Downright Dirty streams live three days a week. Solo, or with a partner, she and her chat audience would compose the stories, which she’d complete a few days later and sell along with high-res images for 10 a pop. I’d read a few before I started chafing. The site also sold glossy stills of her in high heels, leather, pleather, latex, vinyl, whips, chains, clamps, other assorted goodies, you name it. Her blog’s been active for over ten years with an archive of video shorts. For two weeks, I’d watched her shows and tipped her outrageously, although I had a hard time watching her with other men. With normal porn and stream sites, a lot of the women looked fake and none of their orgasms seemed real. Tara looked like she really enjoyed it.

This is all past tense because I no longer watch at all. She isn’t some hot, naked rando anymore. She has a name, and since I wanted to meet her for real, it feels… wrong to watch.

“Let’s not pretend you’re interested in interior decorating or color palettes. What have you been up to lately?”

I won’t cop to scouring the Wall Street Journal every morning, so instead I admit, “Working, remotely, like most people. Slacking off a bit.”

She tilts her head a familiar angle. “Slacking off how?”

“I used to doomscroll. Now I bingestream.”

“Seen anything interesting?”

For a split second, I consider coming clean and answering, “You.” Then she squeezes my forearm. I swallow hard. My memory fills in the parts of her face I can’t see. I wonder if she’s wearing her usual bold red, purple, or black lipstick.

Schitt’s Creek. Parks and Recreation, Catastrophe. Buffy –”

Fuck. That last one just slipped.

She sits up straighter. “You watch Buffy the freaking Vampire Slayer?”

Schitt’s Creek is fucking genius. And Parks is hyster –”

“Buffy. The freaking. Vampire. Slayer. Own it, Jared.”

I throw my hands up. “Fine. Owned. Sarah Michelle rocks my world. Honestly, it really was a good show.”

What I can see of her face lights up. “You’re right. It was. You know, when I was a teenager.”

Something in her eyes stops me from joking about how long ago that was. While I haven’t dated tons of women, the ones I have were several years older, and you don’t have to be a genius to know joking about their age is a surefire ticket to Schitt’s Creek, without the paddle or the humor.

She turns wistful. “I had a major crush on Angel.”

“I always thought he was kind of a tool –”

“You’re crazy. He was hot.”

I’d just seen him on a Buffy twenty-year reunion cast interview. But I suffer a momentary lapse in my own judgment. “What’s he now, like, fifty-something?”

Her eyebrow lifts. “No clue. How old are you, now? Eighteen-something?”

Ouch. A lesser man would cave. But I am a smart-ass adult.

“I turn twenty-one midnight, tonight. Fully legal at last.”

I’m met with a zombie stare. Zero words. My palms start to sweat as she withdraws her hand, and her attention. Reclining against the couch back, she drapes her arm across her forehead, and sighs.

Before she loses any more interest, I take yet another risk. “I’m throwing a little get-together tonight if you and your sister want to come party with us. I mean, not too many people. Just, you know, a few friends. We have a deck in case people want to hang outside after the game. It’ll be huge. I mean, the hockey game. Blackhawks vs Predators. Actually, the deck is big, too. And there will be, you know, free beer. Liquor. We catered a lot of food. Lasagna, brisket, gourmet sandwiches and tons of other… stuff.”

Jesus Christ, I’m babbling like a twenty-something idiot.

I rub my hands together, contemplating a quick exit. The silence between us turns uncomfortable, but I can’t stand up quite yet.

“A big deck, and… stuff,” she purrs. “Sounds like fun.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

When she’s not obsessing over her latest characters and dreaming up meet-cutes for future books, Lauren Alsten loves photographing wildlife while hiking under a warm sun and bright blue skies. Her writing journey began with A-list movie star fan fiction, but these days she prefers penning humorous tales of emotional upheaval served with a side of snark. She currently lives with two ungrateful cats who never lift a paw to help around the house.

Coriolis by Mychael Black #SciFiRomance #LGBTQ

Sometimes the perfect soldier isn’t what you expect — neither is the perfect lover.

In 2207, humanity is the dominant force in the galaxy. The Syndicate governs the humans, and its leader, Joren — a former Marine sharpshooter — oversees it all.

Distress Signal: Captain Carter Therres doesn’t know what to expect aboard the Maelstrom, but it sure as hell isn’t the gorgeous man waiting in the maintenance ductwork. Ash Mracek’s past involves something much more sinister than the Academy bombing for which he was framed. Now it’s a race to save Ash before their enemies can take them out of the picture for good.

Kill Fee: When former Syndicate leader Joren joins his brother, scientist Ash Mracek, and Captain Carter Therres on the lawless planet of Geren in search of allies, he comes into the sights of an assassin. Morgan Reid is a gun for hire, but when his latest contract comes through, he breaks both of the rules he’s always kept: never mix business with pleasure, and never make eye contact with the target.

Silent Running: Jordan Sawyer, the pilot, is focused, determined, and smarter than she lets on. Which is why Eric Kane wants her so much. Major Kyle Cortez has set his own sights on Coriolis’ curvy pilot as well. It’s up to Jordan to get them all on the same page. Or bed. Either works.

Modus Operandi: Geren is a vast network of prisons that was once the Syndicate’s pride and joy. Now it’s a hotbed of crime. The perfect place to enlist a group of former Marines and set up a base of operations. The trick is to do it without alerting anyone — including the criminal residents of Geren — that Joren’s still alive.

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REVIEWS

“Mychael Black certainly knows how to pen a hot D/s scene between two men… This went from smexy to blazing hot within a few pages. This m/m science fiction book is recommended to kinky readers who love the threat to bare it all in public.”— 4 Stars from BookAddict, The Romance Reviews

“When two former lovers reunite, more than just sparks fly. This story is fast, furious and smexy. This is one of the best kinds of erotic fun.”— BookAddict, The Romance Reviews

“…the three of them very quickly figure out how they fit together. Add in some hot pursuit by Revenants, the revelations about a traitor on board the Coriolis, and a couple of life-threatening situations, and yet another very exciting space-adventure in this series will unfold right before your eyes.”— Serena Yates, Rainbow Book Reviews

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Myc has been writing professionally since 2005, solo and with Shayne Carmichael. Genres include pretty much anything (no steampunk yet), though Myc is well known for paranormal stories. When not writing, Myc is usually playing PC games, reading, watching Netflix, and spending way too much time on Facebook. Since the question has come up in the past, pronouns are not an issue. Myc is bio-female, mentally male, and 100% genderfluid, so any pronoun works!

Release Blitz: Compassion Fatigue by Emily Carrington #LGBTQ #contemporaryromance @CarringtonEmily @GoIndiMarketing

Title: Compassion Fatigue

Series: Marisburg Chronicles 1

Author: Emily Carrington

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: July 23

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 101 pages

Genre: Romance, Medical Romance, Multicultural & Interracial, Second Chances, Contemporary Romance

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Synopsis

Peter Campbell, a deaf man who teaches sign language classes, believes no one would ever love a bisexual man. When his new veterinarian, Dr. Abe Yoshida, shows him he’s wrong, Peter is left with the monumental task of coming out to his teenage daughter. Can his growing love for Abe give him the courage he needs?

The holidays are the worst time for Dr. Abe. He recently lost a patient, and the circumstances leave him struggling under a burden of guilt. Adding to his depression, as the COVID-19 pandemic worsens, he finds himself the victim of anti-Asian hate crimes. Then he meets Peter, a compassionate, partially in the closet bisexual man. Will Abe let love heal his heart, or will suicide’s sour music bewitch his soul?

Trigger Warning: Deals with Asian Hate Crimes, COVID-19, depression and suicidal thoughts in characters with disabilities, which may be triggers for some readers.

Excerpt

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Emily Carrington

The man was only a little shorter than Peter himself. He had beautiful dark brown hair and eyes that turned up just a little. Like an Elf’s eyes, Peter thought.

His sleeves were rolled to the elbows, and he had obvious muscles in his forearms. Oh, but that was hot. The only thing that marred Peter’s initial take on the doc was the way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

They shook. The doctor’s hand was dry, his grip strong. Peter swore his heart skipped a beat when he saw the pink triangle in the Dr’s ear.

Then he was distracted because Dr. Yoshida was distracted… by Tracks rubbing up against his legs. The veterinarian’s smile touched his eyes briefly as he crouched to pet the bold and unexpectedly friendly tom.

When he moved to pick up Tracks, Peter put his hand out first. When the doctor was looking at him, Peter shook his head and signed, “Allow me.”

“All right,” Yoshida signed back. He straightened and pointed to a little square box that Peter knew was a cat scale.

Peter placed Tracks in, and the doctor checked the reading. Then, glancing at Peter, he signed, “May I pick him up?”

Well, he’d have to eventually. Peter realized his earlier reticence had been foolish. He nodded. And to his amazement, when Dr. Yoshida picked up Tracks, the cat half closed his eyes in obvious pleasure.

Peter reached out and stroked his pet, feeling the purr.

After a brief but thorough examination, Dr. Yoshida set Tracks down to let him wander. Then he smiled at Peter and signed, “I’m Abe Yoshida. You have a very healthy cat there. Very friendly.”

“He is to you,” Peter signed back. “He’s usually uncomfortable with strangers, especially in new places.”

The vet nodded. “Is this just a meet-and-greet then?”

“Yes.”

“Candace, the vet tech who showed you in here, said you used to go to Dr. Jamison over in Colton.”

Peter nodded. “Since he’s closed, I thought I’d look closer to home for another vet. And I honestly wanted to be able to talk via more than gestures and text messages. One of my students gave me your name. I teach at the school for the deaf attached to Colton University.”

Abe Yoshida smiled a little and asked with his hands, “Which student would that be? I’ve never treated an animal accompanied by a deaf child.”

“Keiko Neil.”

Abe’s eyes widened and he grinned for real this time. “You teach my niece.”

Peter smiled back because that grin was contagious and made the doctor even more handsome, if that was possible. “I can see the family resemblance,” he signed.

“Her parents are stationed in another state but they wanted her to have the best, so they sent her here. Close enough for me to check on her if necessary but also give her some independence. Is she behaving herself?”

“She’s very bright,” Peter prevaricated.

Abe raised one eyebrow. “That’s not an answer,” he pointed out silently.

Peter smirked. “She’s very spirited, but I like her.”

Purchase

Changeling Press LLC | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iTunes

Meet the Author

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender erotica. Seeking a world made of equality, she created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

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Cover Reveal: Fox (Hades Abyss MC) by Harley Wylde #contemporaryromance #agegap @HarleyW_Writer

・゚: * COVER REVEAL * :・゚

Fox (Hades Abyss MC)

Coming August 20, 2021

Published by Changeling Press

Cover Art by Bryan Keller

#bikerromance #agegap #actionadventure #darkromance

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https://bit.ly/3kvQVzK

Raven — I learned the hard way not to trust anyone. First the men who’d hurt me, and then my mother when she’d 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!

Preorder Coming Soon!

About the Author

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!

Stalk the Author

BOOK REVIEW: Sideswiped by Lauren Alsten #RomCom #agegap

How many times will Tara swipe right before realizing her perfect lover is already in her bed?

Jared might be stuck in an unfulfilling job, but he knows what he wants to be doing. He also knows who he wants to be with — Tara, a.k.a. The Goth Girl Next Door he’s fantasized about for years. He’s not bothered by their age difference, but everyone else seems to be. Tara thinks he’s just a plaything, his brother thinks she’s a witch, and his parents think she’s trouble.

Jared thinks she’s perfect.

Tara loves her job as a sex streamer, but since quarantine, she’s tired of flying solo. Then she teams up with her zygote of a neighbor, and her tips soar. So does her pleasure, yet she keeps swiping, searching for a mature, responsible LTR-worthy man.

Jared’s convinced he’s everything she needs, but can they keep their relationship hot without their passion self-destructing?

PREORDER for JULY 30

MY REVIEW – 5 stars!

Lauren Alsten’s Sidewiped is laugh-out-loud funny!

I admit it, the cover got me. As a cat lover, one look at the two black cats, and I had to click to find out more. And a sex streamer? Yep, that lured me in for sure. So I shamelessly snagged an ARC of this delightful RomCom that will have you laughing at times and wanting to cry at others.

Tara is a strong, vibrant woman who thinks she’s finally ready to settle down. Assuming she can find the right man. Except she’s going about it all wrong. Using a dating app is getting her nowhere. With one loser after another showing up for her dates, she’s starting to think she may end up alone.

Jared has adored Tara since he hit puberty and realized girls aren’t so icky after all. And now that he’s all grown up, he can think of nothing he wants more than to spend time with her. Too bad she still sees him as a kid – or at least she claims that’s the case. When the two end up in bed – multiple times – Jared knows he’s found the woman he wants to keep forever.

The verbal sparring between these two is enough to keep you on your toes. They’re so cute together, even if Tara is a stubborn mule and refuses to admit she likes Jared. The characters were well-developed, and the humor is sprinkled throughout. I seriously hope Tara’s sister and Jared’s brother get a book. Those two are in some serious denial about their feelings!

Looking for a quick, feel-good read? Sideswiped will have you laughing, crying, and falling in love right alongside the characters.

*Disclaimer: I received an ARC in exchange for an honest review. The review above is only my opinion. 

Black Widow (duet) by Lena Austin #BDSM #romanticsuspense @Lena_Austin

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to take BDSM lessons? Wonder no more. I’ll tell you.

The Black Widow: All Calder wants when he infiltrates the local BDSM community is a clinical, unprejudiced view of the world of BDSM. He isn’t counting on Kelly.

The infamous Dominatrix, The Black Widow, accepts a passionate challenge from this man who won’t submit. Their journey of discovery will lead into the depths of both their souls where dominance and submission have no meaning. But Calder must keep his assignment secret, or risk the bite of the Black Widow.

Spinnerette: Dante comes to Black Widow for Domination lessons, but that doesn’t mean he only gets to watch.

Available Today at Changeling Press

Preorder for July 23 at online booksellers

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2021 Lena Austin
Excerpt from Black Widow

“Hey, Calder, my man! Glad I caught you. Got a job I know you’re gonna love,” Ruben Grimes proclaimed, as he always did.

With a purely internal sigh, Calder said, “Yeah, yeah, Ruben. That’s what you said about the article I did for that parents’ magazine where I ended up on a Greyhound bus full of thirty screaming kids going to a theme park. My ears still haven’t recovered.” The article might have brought him money, but the cost to his nerves had hardly made it worth his while.

Still, he couldn’t help but like Ruben. The guy worked hard to find Calder steady jobs so he could pay the bills until his first novel sold. Calder had forgiven Ruben the day the check arrived. His disability pension didn’t cover enough, and he didn’t want to use Social Security. His pride wouldn’t let him until he had no other recourse.

“No, this time I’m positive it is right up your alley. That degree of yours is finally going to get some use. You hit the big time, my man! You may have hated that article in Parents Weekly, but your take on how theme parks can be healthy experiences caught the eye of an editor who happens to have kids.”

Ruben drew breath and launched into a spiel that actually had Calder grabbing a pen and notepad in a hurry. Calder couldn’t believe his ears. It was the big time, with a correspondingly huge payoff, if he could deliver. No deadline, and that alone was impressive. There was only one catch.

“No wonder they aren’t giving me a deadline date. Geez, Ruben, I don’t have a clue how to get involved in a BDSM society, much less penetrate its secrets,” Calder protested.

“That’s the trick, buddy. Look, an ex-cop with psych and sociology degrees has the best hope of getting in and writing that article. I sold you to them on this, and they agree. You gotta try. What have you got to lose?”

“My skin?” Calder suggested. “I have dire visions of losing precious flaps of epidermis I’d rather keep intact.”

“Tell you what, Calder. Do some research on the Web, read a couple of books on the subject, and get back to me.” Ruben disconnected, probably because he was afraid Calder would refuse.

Calder sighed, and opened up his browser.

A few hours, and more cups of coffee than his stomach could handle, later, Calder pushed back from his keyboard with a groan. His eyes burned, and his hand hurt from all the notes he’d made. The legal pad was full, and it had only been half-used when he’d started.

“Geeee-zus!” He rubbed his eyes. “This is like learning a whole fucking new language. Safe words, releases, equipment, and that’s just the start. Okay!” Calder pushed to his feet. “First things first. I’m going to make a monster sandwich, then I’m going to the library.”

The pickles had just hit the plate to complete a sandwich worthy of the Tower of Pisa when the cell rang for a second time. Ruben again.

“Pushy, aren’t you?” Calder said in lieu of a greeting. But he said it with a grin. “What, Mrs. Grimes wants another diamond or something that you call me twice in one day?” He bit into his sandwich.

Ruben chuckled. “I just figured you had enough time to log on and get intrigued. Was I right?”

Swallowing so he could laugh, Calder let loose a vulgar epithet. “Yeah, you got me. And I’m more than intrigued, you sneaky bastard. Though what the librarian is going to think when I ask for a book titled, Screw the Roses, Give Me the Thorns, I don’t know.” He contemplated the filthy looks he’d get as he swallowed another bite.

The snort over the phone was worthy of a thoroughbred. “You never can tell, bud. She might be a member of one of those clubs. It’s the quiet ones you gotta watch out for.”

“Ruben, you married a Broadway actress. You wouldn’t know quiet if it bit you in the ass.”

“So, can I say you accept?”

Calder finished his sandwich and let Ruben stew a minute. “Yeah, okay. Any way I can get an advance? This one may take some time.”

“Not likely, but I’ll see what I can do.” Ruben sounded thoughtful. “Tell you what. If you think it can happen this way, write me up a proposal and I’ll pitch it as a book as well as an article.”

“Deal.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Someone cursed Lena Austin with “may you have a life so full you’ll have many tales to tell your grandchildren.” Lena’s a “fallen” society wench with a checkered past. She’s been a licensed minister, hairdresser, Realtor, radio DJ, exotic dancer, telephone service tech, live-steel medievalist swordswoman, BDSM Mistress, and investment property manager. Not necessarily in that order. She never finished that degree in marine archaeology, but did learn to scuba — she’s got a lifetime of “Research material!”

Hey, why waste these stories on kids who won’t listen anyway? Writing them down is a nice way to spend her retirement. What? You expected an ex-BDSM Mistress to take up crocheting or something?

BOOK REVIEW: Compassion Fatigue by Emily Carrington #LGBTQ #contemporaryromance

ABOUT THE BOOK

Peter Campbell, a deaf man who teaches sign language classes, believes no one would ever love a bisexual man. When his new veterinarian, Dr. Abe Yoshida, shows him he’s wrong, Peter is left with the monumental task of coming out to his teenage daughter. Can his growing love for Abe give him the courage he needs?

The holidays are the worst time for Dr. Abe. He recently lost a patient, and the circumstances leave him struggling under a burden of guilt. Adding to his depression, as the COVID-19 pandemic worsens, he finds himself the victim of anti-Asian hate crimes. Then he meets Peter, a compassionate, partially in the closet bisexual man. Will Abe let love heal his heart, or will suicide’s sour music bewitch his soul?

Trigger Warning: Deals with Asian Hate Crimes, COVID-19, depression and suicidal thoughts in characters with disabilities, which may be triggers for some readers.

Preorder for July 30th

Add to Goodreads

MY REVIEW – 5 stars!

Compassion Fatigue is an emotion-charged, page-turning, quick-yet-satisfying read.

For lovers of LGBT fiction, this book has a diverse group of characters from male/male couples, to female/female couples, bisexual characters, and even a non-binary teen. It’s a story about acceptance, not only of yourself but others, and as such has scenes that may trigger some readers. The author handled the emotional pain of the characters, and the hate of the close-minded people around them, with a style that was both impactful and respectful.

Peter has fought the fact he’s bisexual even since his ex-wife threw him out. Not only did the woman who’d claimed she’d love him forever turn her back on Peter, but there were those in the LGBTQ community who did the same. He’s left feeling conflicted and struggles with self-loathing. Convinced no one will ever accept him, in either world, he battles loneliness and tries to keep people at arm’s length.

Dr. Abe Yoshida was a beautifully written character. His inner struggle not only over people being unaccepting of his being gay but also the hateful comments toward Asians as the COVID-19 pandemic began to spread, left a broken man who fought every day not to give in the demons whispering in his head.

Peter and Abe were clearly meant for one another, even though both themselves and others kept throwing obstacles in their way. Their moments together were sweet and at times more than a little steamy. Once I started reading their story, I couldn’t stop. I needed to see how it ended.

Compassion Fatigue will put you through the emotional wringer but will give you the satisfying ending we all crave when reading a romance. 

*Disclaimer: I received an ARC from the publisher in exchance for an honest review. The review above is only my opinion.

ABOUT EMILY CARRINGTON

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender erotica. Seeking a world made of equality, she created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires.

Building a Family by M.L. Uberti #contemporaryromance @MLUberti_writer

Jamie knows to Daniel she’s just the babysitter for his brother’s children. She’s too young, too inexperienced, too shy for him. But she feels safe when she’s with him, and she wishes they could have more.

Daniel knows he’s too old, too rough, and far too wary for a beautiful young woman like Jamie. She should run away from him and what he wants and needs from her.

Unless they’re both wrong.

Available Today at Changeling Press

Preorder for July 23 at online booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 ML Uberti

First time I met her, I hadn’t been here a full week. My brother had convinced me to leave my gig for one with better pay — closer to family. I made a shitload already but Brandon was itching to have me stateside again after I’d been gone half a decade in the army, then another twelve years working for Shell Oil, deep in ocean waters away from civilization. I think he was afraid I was going insane or becoming antisocial or something.

First time I saw her was Sunday dinner. I’d arrived on Monday, when I’d thrown the few bags I had down on the floor of the rental Brandon got for me and passed out, then done nothing but work the next six days. My first day off I wanted to get some furniture, maybe buy some shit for my fridge that wasn’t half-empty takeout containers. But Brandon insisted I come over and have dinner with him and Taylor, his wife, and his three kids, Austin and Becca, five-year-old twins, and two-year-old daughter Sierra. My brother had managed to knock up his wife again and she was due in four months with another boy.

A Lucas family trait was that none of us could keep it in our pants. If my brothers and I had anything in common it was as soon as we all hit fifteen, we couldn’t get enough pussy. Girls in school, from the town up the road, college chicks hitting the bars in Modesto where we grew up — they were all fair game. And we played to fucking win.

But with pussy came chains. They wanted to lock you down, bleed you dry and make you fucking miserable. Didn’t want or need that shit so at thirty-eight years old, I knew I’d never settle down. Until I saw the babysitter.

“Jamie! Austin can’t find his jersey!” Taylor practically shouted in my ear from right outside the back door while my brother and I were both leaning against the counter of his kitchen, beer in hand.

“I think it’s in the laundry basket in the basement! I’ll grab it!” a soft, feminine voice called back.

“Thanks, hon!” Taylor let the door slam and joining my brother and I in the kitchen. “I swear to God this house would fall down around our ears without Jamie.”

Taylor worked with us at Valiant Drilling as the office manager. That’s how she’d met my brother. After six months of him asking her every damn day to go out with him, he finally wore her down and she said yes. They were married less than a year later, and two after that, Austin and Becca were born. Brandon told me as soon as he saw her, he knew. “Like a boner to the heart,” he stated eloquently.

I thought he was crazy. Taylor was cute, sure. Sexy in a way, with curvy hips and a little bit of sass. But tying himself down with one woman then having three-soon-to-be-four kids with her? Sounded like hell on fucking earth.

Then the door opened and swear to God, it felt like time froze.

I saw a flash of a slight frame, with my stare traveling from a pair of white sneakers, up a pair of slim, long legs that went on for miles, to an ass clad in a pair of black cotton leggings, a slight flare of hips, a flat stomach, a hell of rack, and then a face that was show-stopping. Her eyes were honey-colored, her hair dark, pulled up off her neck in a messy bun, and as I took in her full mouth, classic features and thick lashes, my dick went to steel.

She turned and faced me, the corners of her mouth tipping up as her golden brown eyes met mine. “Hi! I’m Jamie. You must be Daniel. Brandon talks about you all the time.” She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and I felt that in my dick.

I swallowed a mouthful of beer so I didn’t have to respond and tipped my head up in a nod, meeting her gaze for just a second, then uncrossing my legs to try to get some room for my throbbing cock.

Didn’t work. She just kept smiling at me, then bounced away to the steps, and I got a good, long look at that ass. I swear to God my dick started to leak into my jeans.

“I’ll help. It’s the least I can do since you do everything else,” Taylor told the angel, setting down her bowl and trotting after the babysitter, as Jamie’s twinkling laugh drifted up the steps.

I watched them go, my body stiff in more ways than one, and after a few seconds, Brandon burst out laughing.

My gaze went to him, bent over and losing it. “Oh shit, man. Haven’t seen that look on your face in a long time. Since you were fourteen and had Miss Harrison for geometry. You had to hide your hard-on behind your textbook for a whole semester. Classic!”

My brother was still laughing at me as I finished off the beer I had in my hand and grabbed another one, not saying a word.

He wasn’t wrong.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Starbucks aficionado, lover of throw blankets and betrayer of all things kale, ML Uberti is a Wayne State University graduate and Metro Detroit author with a predilection for oddities and happy endings. She is mom to three autistic kids, 2 ridiculously stupid dogs and wife of a teacher and musician who has endless patience for her impeccably bad taste in Netflix shows and murder documentaries. She is thrilled to dip her toe into scifi romance from contemporary and hopes you enjoy her big, brooding alien alphas and resilient fairy tale queens.

Wratch (Black Reign MC) by Marteeka Karland #romanticsuspense @marteekakarland

Wrath: When El Diablo sends me to infiltrate the DA’s office and find out who’s involved in the corruption there, I’m all over it. Being a lawyer, I’m singularly suited to El Diablo’s purpose, and I know the system inside and out. I am also adept at blending in, even with my muscles and tatts. We’ve known since Justice from Salvation’s Bane took a prison sentence he didn’t deserve that someone from the DA’s office was in the back pocket of the wrong people. Those wrong people are in the form of a rival MC who rule their territory with an iron fist and are trying to encroach on Salvation’s Bane as well as Black Reign.

Then I meet a sexy little platinum-haired escort and all bets are off. I’m attracted to her like I’ve never been to another woman, and it’s messing with the Zen-like calm I’m famous for. If I can’t pull myself together enough to complete this job, I’ll fail my club and, more importantly, my mentor, the club president, El Diablo. That’s something even this unholy attraction can’t cause. But what’s a man to do when all that stands in the way of the happiness of a sexy single mom and her feisty but vulnerable daughter is club business, and a few Saint Bernard puppies?

Celeste: I’m in a financial jam of the worst kind. I need to make enough money to pay for my daughter Holly’s medical bills. The sheer volume of money I need is overwhelming. Working doesn’t touch it, and no one wants to hire me full-time because of the cost of insurance. The only way to finish Holly’s leukemia treatments is for me to keep up the payments to the hospital and clinic. If I can’t, then Holly’s chances of remission may only be a lost dream. Out of options, I accept an offer to be an escort. Not only that, but I soon find myself working for a motorcycle club as a “cam girl,” doing live sex shows. Glamorous? Not at all. But it’s more money than I can make working three jobs. Imagine my surprise when the man who paid for my services as an escort turns up in the control room of my first cam show. He’s sexy as sin, and much more than he appears to be. He’s also got me completely under his spell. Which sucks because he’s quite possibly the rudest jackass I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.

Available Today at Changeling Press

Preorder for July 23 at online booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Marteeka Karland

“I think you’ll like corporate law, Vincent.” The man currently schmoozing up to me was a weasel. If I could have my way, I’d’ve tossed the fucker off the balcony of the huge suite the firm of Lawson, Hughsman, and Gray had procured. The firm was having a little romancing session at the Four Seasons Resort in Palm Springs for several lawyers they were considering bringing into their fold. Including me. I was supposed to be scoping out Nathaniel Lawson, the son of the founding member of the firm. He was the personal attorney of the new District Attorney in the city. He was the man responsible for keeping away lawsuits and criminal investigations into anything Harold Collins might be threatened with so the DA’s office at looked clean and untarnished. This guy, Stewart Gray, was a pompous windbag and as big a scumbag as everyone else in that fucking firm. And the fucking DA’s office. I hated all of them. But I couldn’t show it.

“Perhaps,” I replied vaguely. “As long as it makes me money.”

“Oh, there’s plenty of money to be had,” Gray chuckled. “Join us. We heard about your work taking down the former DA, William Barrison. Who knew the son of a bitch was so corrupt? Hid it for more than a decade, but you brought him out into the open. Thanks to you, the city is a much safer place.”

“I live to serve.” I grinned slightly. “As long as it makes me money.”

We both laughed.

This was a bust. Nathaniel Lawson was on his best behavior, other than the high-end call girls and even higher-end drugs at the party. They were considering five other prospective partners. Only one of them would get the spot in the firm, and I was beginning to think this whole angle was a bust. I just wanted to get out, get with Black Reign, and rethink this whole setup. We needed a different approach.

“Well, my friend,” Gray continued. “If you want to make money, I guarantee you, you’ve come to the right place. Lawson, Hughsman, and Gray can make you a lot of money.” He emphasized “a lot” and gave me a knowing look. “With money comes power. With power comes perks.” He gestured toward a long table with pretty much any kind of quality drug or liquor a man could want. There were Cuban cigars, Legacy rum, some kind of expensive absinthe, and, of course, heroin, cocaine, and various other mind-altering substances.

As if that whole line had been a setup, a door opened just beyond the well-stocked table and several very beautiful, very sophisticated women entered. “See what I mean?” Gray looked positively gleeful, actually rubbing his hands together as he eyed each woman like a kid in a candy store. “Yours to enjoy, Vincent. Take your pick. There’s nothing they won’t do. Live out your nastiest fantasies with as many of them as you like for as long as you like.” He clapped my shoulder. “These are just a very few of the perks you can enjoy as one of us.”

Normally, I’d have smiled politely and passed, but one woman caught my eye in a huge way. She was ethereal in her beauty. Long, platinum-blonde hair, flawlessly pale skin. She’d dressed in red, naturally. Some skimpy little number I couldn’t even register. All I saw was the woman. Short and slight, she had rounded hips but was very slender. Her legs were perfectly formed. Just the right amount of muscle to grip a man tight during sex. She looked out of place among the other women. It wasn’t something I could put my finger on, but she just didn’t fit.

Nervous. She looked nervous. Where the other women smiled and sought out a partner, this girl seemed unsure of herself. She smiled politely when she had to, but she didn’t have that shark-like quality the others did. If she was looking for the wealthiest man of the bunch — and when did an escort not do that? — she wasn’t doing a good job. In fact, she seemed to avoid eye contact whenever she could. Lord knew more than one of the men in the room tried to get her attention. She was easily the most beautiful woman in that room. Instead, she wandered around, looking at the artwork on the walls. She avoided the table with the alcohol and drugs.

My very first thought the second I could see her from head to toe was that if I fucked her the way I wanted, I might break her delicate frame. My next thought was, “I can be gentle.” It was a Goddamned lie, but I told myself that anyway.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Erotic romance author by night, emergency room tech/clerk by day, Marteeka Karland works really hard to drive everyone in her life completely and totally nuts. She has been creating stories from her warped imagination since she was in the third grade. Her love of writing blossomed throughout her teenage years until it developed into the totally unorthodox and irreverent style her English teachers tried so hard to rid her of.

Extra Cream by J. Hali Steele – now in paperback! #shifters #paranormalromance @JHaliSteele

With Extra Cream: Getting enough cream is a problem for this cat… Jag Arizon has a plan to correct that. A jaguar of the Kind species, big cats infected with vampyre blood, he walks in both worlds. Aside from blood, he’s addicted to cream, and only one person can cure him. In convincing her to donate to his cause, Jag gets much more than he bargained for.

Hot Tin Roof: Leron Wilder is a jaguar of the Kind species, big cat shifters infected with vampyre blood. Nothing has gone right for Leron since his best friend Jag mated with the owner of the local coffee shop. Corinne Nelson loves her new home and her new job as a waitress at the Coffee Swirl, and she’s really hoping she won’t have to move on this time. Life’s finally looking up — until the hottest man she’s ever met walks into the shop — and licks her hand?

Cougar by the Tail: Trent Dallion is screwed. A wily little cougar has him by the balls — and he can’t get loose! Did she mean it when she thanked him for killing her brother? Or is she playing a game of cat and mouse, waiting for revenge?

Zader’s Menagerie: The right wolf will make this cat howl at the moon. Zader Montana is Sovereign Kind, a mountain lion infected with vampyre blood. He refuses to embrace his undead half, the part of him that prowls the night looking for the she-wolf he desires. His problem — she’s mated to the alpha of the wolf pack sharing his mountaintop.

Get it at Amazon

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2021 J. Hali Steele
Excerpt from 
With Extra Cream

The lot at the Coffee Swirl filled up fast. Leron saw Jag’s Lotus right in front. He really did miss the guy. He couldn’t pop in on him like he used to in the mornings, not with Barbara there, but he could always catch him at the Swirl.

“Now, the Lotus, that’s a real car.”

“Jesus Christ, get the fuck out of my car, Trent. You better pray Jag will take your ass back to the compound.”

“I’ll ride with him because you’re in a pissy mood.”

Leron stepped from the car and slammed the door shut, wincing at the force he used. He bounded up the steps, taking two at a time. He walked inside and saw Jag’s head come up immediately in the booth where they usually sat.

“Hey, man. How you been? Trent, what’s up?” Jag looked happy as hell to see him and that improved Leron’s mood a little.

“Stopped by to catch up, check on how you’re doing.”

“He misses you,” Trent chimed in.

Leron wheeled around, collared the youngster, and slammed him against the plate glass window. His temper was on a short fuse today. His claws had begun to emerge when he heard Barbara’s voice. “Let him go, Leron.”

Shit. He brushed his hand down the front of Trent’s tee. “Just straightening the kid up a bit. He’s sloppy.” A hiss whistled past his teeth. “Sorry, Barb.”

“I’ll get you a coffee, you go talk to Jag. By the way, he misses you too.” She grinned and went behind the counter. She’d made him happy. Leron had started to feel like a girly-man pining away for the company of his best friend. It was good to know his buddy felt the same way.

He flopped into the seat across from Jag and grinned at the cat.

“Kid getting on your nerves?”

“He’s everywhere, always into something. Thinks he’s a badass.”

The door to the back of the shop opened, and Leron glanced up. His nostrils flared at the magnificent smell that assailed him. Citrus, which reminded him of oranges.

Long, honey-colored hair flew in a spray around slender shoulders as the woman spun with a tray in her hand. He caught his breath and held it. Christ, she was tall. The most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. Hazel eyes glanced across the room and locked with his. A whoosh of air left his mouth on a moan.

“Easy, big guy,” Jag said, following the direction of his eyes.

“Who is she?”

“Corinne. Cory Nelson. Things picked up a bit so Barb hired her. She’s new in town and needed a job.”

“Where’s she from?”

“I could ask Barb. Why?”

Leron faced Jag. “No particular reason.” His heart beat like a drum. Her scent wafted across the room and teased him. The day had just gotten better. He rolled his head around, but the muscles remained tight. His fangs tingled. This wasn’t a feeling he liked. Damn, maybe the guy he fed from that morning did drugs or something.

“Leron, you okay?”

“I don’t know. Lately I’ve been a little distracted. That’s all. Want to get together at the compound tonight? A bunch of us are going to hang out.”

“Sure. I’ve been meaning to come by anyway. I’ll let Barb know.” The joy that lit Jag’s face was pathetic. Leron hoped he never got pussy whipped like that.

“Here’s your black coffee.” It was her. The silken sound of her voice slid right down to his cock. As she was putting his cup on the table, he tried to touch her hand. She pulled away and the hot liquid sloshed over the side and burned her hand. The cup rattled in the saucer and tilted over. “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry.”

Leron spoke quickly. “It was my fault. Are you okay? Let me look.” An angry red blister had already formed on the back of her hand. His cat instincts took over and he brought her hand to his mouth and began to lick the red welt. His tongue lapped at her like she was today’s special. He had lost his mind and didn’t know where the fuck to find it.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A multi-published author, J. Hali Steele wishes she could grow fur, wings, or fangs, so she can stay warm, fly, or just plain bite the crap out of… Well, since she can’t, she would much rather roam where her fictional big cats live — in the high desert of California. Discovering a new love of contemporary male/male erotica has flipped a switch she can’t turn off, so she hopes eventually it drifts back into her otherworldly realm.

When J. Hali’s not writing, she can be found snuggled in front of the TV with a good book, a cat in her lap, and a cup of coffee.

Growl and roar — it’s okay to let the beast out.