RELEASE BLITZ: Second Chance Omegas by Will Okati #LGBTQ #PNR #UrbanFantasy @changelingpress @GoIndiMarketing

Title: Second Chance Omegas

Author: Will Okati

Publisher: Changeling Press

Release Date: March 24

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 394 pages

Genre: Romance, New Adult, Action Adventure, Paranormal Romance, Urban Fantasy, Gay, Second Chances, Sex/Gender Shifters & MPreg

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Synopsis

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

Only You: Once upon a time a teenaged Alpha fell in love with a pretty Omega from the wrong side of the tracks. Zachary was everything Alex wanted — sweet, sassy, and sexy as hell. Alex would have married that boy if Zachary hadn’t run. When the secrets they’ve been keeping come to light, will they shatter their bond for keeps, or bring them together in a forever kind of love?

Yes, You Are: Everyone assumed petite Darian would be an Omega, and big, athletic Coby would be an Alpha. When they met as teenagers, they had no reason to doubt that was who they’d be. But everyone was wrong. Opposites attract like lightning and steel rods when they meet again in Second Chance, but do they have what it takes to overcome the unexpected for the long haul?

Come for You: Gabriel, a dreamer and a librarian, is so shy and introverted that he’s still a virgin Omega at twenty-five — but he can’t help wishing for a fairy-tale Prince Charming. Meet captivating quarryman Alpha Wynn. For them, it’s love at first sight. But the happy ending is harder to come by. Who will rescue who?

Take You There: Ethan teaches music at the university. He’s not looking for Mr. Right, just Mr. Right Now. A quick, dirty alley encounter should have satisfied him. But now Ethan can’t get Blue out of his mind. The smoldering musician who caught Blue’s eye and what they did in the alley, should have been enough. Until Ethan finds him. And then, everything changes. Again.

Excerpt

Copyright ©2023 Will Okati
Excerpt from Only You

“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.

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.

Alex.

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

Will Okati (formerly known as Willa) has lived through a few Interesting Times, but come out the other side a little grayer, a little wiser, and ready to get writing. Still as passionate about coffee, cats, and crafts as ever, but knowing that to your own self you must be true. Also still one of the quiet ones to watch out for, but life — like storytelling — is always a work in progress.

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RELEASE BLITZ: Painted Bare by Hayden West #EroticRomance #Gay @pridepublishing @firstforromance

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Painted Bare by Hayden West

Book 4 in the City of Fountains series

General Release Date: 17th February 2023

Word Count: 16,531
Book Length: NOVELLA
Pages: 78

Genres:

CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI

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Book Description

The canvas never lies.

Anthony Henson doesn’t do people. He prefers to be left alone with his paint, brushes and canvas. A world that allows his mind to be at ease, without the struggle to do what is right by societal dictates. His quiet universe is sent spinning, however, when a string of recent thefts brings a tall Irish detective into his circle.

Detective Liam Rourke has a hard, firm policy on not intermingling work and pleasure. Until now, it’s not been an issue to uphold it. Enter one painter and all he wants to do is spend more time around him. The lines between professional and personal are blurred.

When everything settles, what will happen to the straight-laced detective and the man whose own messy life doesn’t matter to him?

Reader advisory: This book contains instances of bullying, as well as mention of homophobia, adultery, and family/domestic verbal/emotional abuse.

Excerpt

“There’s a Detective Rourke here to see you, Anthony.”

Anthony Henson sighed, instantly agitated, and spun on the stool, away from the current painting he worked on. With a flick of his wrist as he got to his feet, he covered it. No one would see it until the time was right.

“Thanks, Marshall.”

The words were the correct ones, even if the last thing he felt like he should be doing was entertaining another prick of a badge. Pressing the heel of his palm into his upper thigh, he sighed as he tried to work out the stiffness. When he finished on that side, he worked out the stiffness in his other leg. A sure sign he’d been immobile far too long without taking a break.

Supposedly this can be a good thing. I am getting up and moving around. This will serve as my break.

Truth was, he didn’t give a fuck if it was a good thing or not. He didn’t care. He had painting to do. The other things were naught but irritating intrusions of his time.

Marshall vanished without another word and in mere seconds, with his suit impeccable. While Anthony himself, on the other hand, looked like a day laborer. Paint staining his fingers, shirt, pants. Even his shoes.

Oops.

Damnit. I forgot my shoes. Where did I leave them? In the back room? Beneath my stool?

There were two options. Go back and get them, assuming he could remember where he’d discarded them, or continue on like he was to this meeting.

It’s not like I called the cops to come out here. He’s interrupting my day. Why do I care if I’m wearing shoes? Why should I care? He may not even be a he. I suppose women can be detectives.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he should care. That would be the proper thing to do. Quite honestly, he didn’t give a fuck about social niceties. That’s what Marshall was for.

Pushing his hands into his pockets, he walked through the back of the studio to the front. Marshall pointed one finger off to his left and Anthony followed.

The man, and it was a man, stood before one of his favorite pieces. A scene in Italy, a seashore.

“Why are you here?”

Beside him, Marshall cleared his throat, softly. Anthony knew what it was, a reminder to be better behaved. Be polite. Sociable.

The man didn’t start, just slowly turned toward him, expression composed. Sharp green eyes lasered out from angular features. Deep red hair with a smattering of gray at the temples. The clothing was typical detective wear—a suit.

“Anthony Henson?”

His voice rolled from him like a slow-moving wave, not anything to knock you over but you sure as hell knew it had been there.

“That’s who you asked to see. Why else would I be standing here?”

Marshall stepped between them. “I’m sorry, Detective. Yes, this is Anthony Henson. Anthony, this is Detective Liam Rourke.”

There was a look in Marshall’s gaze. It took him a moment before it clicked. Marshall was reminding him not to be so short.

“How can I help you?”

It grated he had to ask that, but Marshall smiled at him and that made it worth it. Being able to make Marshall smile and relax was something Anthony enjoyed doing. He didn’t have a lot of friends. There were people, acquaintances who pretended to like him because of who he was and his wealth and of course his connections, or at least those they thought would help them. But he wasn’t stupid, no matter what those same people said behind his back. He knew they were trying to use him.

The bottom line was, he didn’t give a fuck about them. But Marshall…he was different. The man had been his friend since they’d first met. He’d taken beatings standing up for Anthony and never got offended when Andrew’s bluntness had things falling from his mouth that should have been withheld.

So, no matter how he didn’t want to do something, if Marshall asked him, he would do it. He hid a smirk and tried to give the visitor his attention. It wasn’t easy. This detective was handsome.

“I’m here with a couple of questions about burglaries that have been going on at some of the local galleries.”

Anthony watched and waited, bare toes curling on the cool floor. The eyes held him. That shade of green wasn’t something he’d seen before.

He wanted to paint it.

I want to paint him.

Detective Rourke gave a small nod and pulled out a flip steno pad. “Has there been any trouble here? Any people in here that may be casing the joint under the pretense of looking at the art?”

With any movement, Anthony waited. As did the detective. The man didn’t speak, just held his gaze.

He figured it was a tactic to get suspects to talk, but personally, he didn’t give a fuck. This man didn’t intimidate him.

Arouse him? Yes, for sure.

“Well?”

A hint of impatience laced the man’s tone, even though it was very faint.

“Are those your only questions?” Anthony blinked, once. “Or do you have others?”

The man flattened his lips and gave a slow nod.

“I couldn’t tell you. You would be better served speaking to Marshall.” He looked away from the detective with the intoxicating green eyes. “Marshall, come answer the detective’s questions. I have better things to do.”

Without another word, he turned and walked back toward his studio.

“Wait a minute.”

He paused outside the room and looked over his shoulder. The man strode toward him, brow furrowed.

“We’re not finished.”

Anthony narrowed his gaze. “You told me you had no more questions. I am not the best equipped to answer this, Marshall is.” He cocked his head to the side as a thought struck him. “Are you good at your job? Because you seem to be having a difficult time digesting what I told you.”

Marshall cleared his throat again.

Anthony shrugged. “What? It is a legitimate question.” He waved his hand in the direction of the sexy detective.

I do not need to think of him as sexy.

“He is having a difficult time grasping my statement.” He faced Liam. “Or did something change and you do have different questions for me?”

Liam Rourke wasn’t sure what to make of the man standing before him. He didn’t shy away from eye contact and seemed absolutely shocked Liam wanted to speak to him again. But the blue eyes holding his called to a deeper part of him. One he’d thought he’d closed down, after—

There was scruff on his face, making his jaw shadowed. Messy dark hair fell haphazardly around his features. He’d noticed a limp while Anthony had moved away from him.

Two blinks and the man he’d come to speak with walked away, leaving him there. Dumbfounded.

“I’m sorry, Detective Rourke. Anthony doesn’t mean to be rude. He just—”

“No need to explain.” He had a feeling he already knew. “Why did he tell me to speak to you?”

“Mr. Henson prefers to keep to the back, doing what he loves. Painting. He isn’t one who comes out to mingle with the patrons.” Marshall stepped back and smoothed a hand down his suit. “I handle all of that for him.”

“Okay, let me ask you.”

Liam talked to Marshall for another couple of minutes before closing up his notepad.

“I’ll be by if I have any more questions. If you do see anything, please let us know. We’re trying to stop this group before someone gets seriously hurt.”

“Will do, Detective.”

He gave him a nod and pivoted to the door. All he wanted to do was go in the back and engage with Anthony once more. He shook his head. It had been a while since he’d had a man affect him like Anthony had, despite the brief time they were together.

At the door to Arm’s Hall Gallery, he slowed, at war with himself about whether to go back and see Anthony once more. Exhaling sharply, he pushed through and stepped out into the hot summer afternoon.

Liam slid on his sunglasses and tipped his head up to the glaring sun. His mind drifted back to the paint-splattered man who hadn’t been the slightest bit impressed with having a detective there, trying to help.

He snorted. No, impressed was definitely not the word to use. Annoyed, irritated, bored. So many other ones he could choose.

There had been something sexy about seeing him there, barefoot and a bit messy, which had kicked his senses, reminding him how long it’d been since he’d had a lover. Eyes on his car, he walked toward it, mind focusing ahead to the next stop on his list for the day.

So far the four places that had been burglarized hadn’t had any injuries. In his gut, he figured it was only a matter of time before their luck ran out with regards to that. What he’d not been able to piece together yet was a connection in the art. Other than the obvious—it was art. Something told him it was deeper than how it appeared on the surface.

Not even old art, at least not all. It was like the thief or thieves weren’t after Rembrandts, probably because they were afraid they couldn’t unload them. And he didn’t get the allure of some of what he’d seen. Some of the pieces that had been stolen he personally wouldn’t wipe his ass with, but he’d never claimed to be an art critic.

Now this most recent studio, he didn’t mind what was up on those walls. Not images he would consider all abstract, for there was a definite eclectic taste to what adorned the walls.

Landscapes. People. Animals. Buildings. Flowers. You name it, Arm’s Hall probably had it, and most of what Liam had seen made sense to his mind.

“Rourke!”

Snapping his gaze up when his name was hollered, he lifted his chin in greeting to another detective, Larson, who had been at a different gallery.

Larson jogged across the street and put his hands on his hips. “Anything?”

He shook his head and pulled his notebook back out, flipping it open. “Nothing that was worth the time it took me to put it down.”

Arms crossed, Larson grunted. “Same. Although, if I wanted a painted picture of a bikini bottom, it could be mine for a measly ten grand.”

Liam choked. “I’m sorry?”

“Yeah, that’s what it was like at the last place I was at. I either make far too little or I went into the wrong business. I mean, I could paint some ladies’ drawers and would be happy to sell it for half their asking price. Christ, what the hell is the draw for something like that? I couldn’t ever put it up on my wall, not if I wanted my wife to refrain from slitting my throat at night.”

Liam laughed, knowing full well Regina, Larson’s wife, would do exactly that, and find a way to blame him for it. Woman was scary and a freaking amazing attorney. He held up his hands and shook his head.

“That’s all you, man. I’m not buying any portion of women’s clothing on a canvas. Much less for that kind of money. We have the same job. I know I don’t make that kind of money.”

“Let’s get back, see if we can’t find a lead somewhere.”

They fell into step and walked in companionable silence to the waiting sedan.

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About the Author

Hayden West

Hayden West lives in the Pacific Northwest, enjoys being outdoors, and hanging out with friends when not working on the next novella to be released.

Find Hayden at their website and blog.

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Marisburg Connections by Emily Carrington #CharacterInterview #GuestPost #LGBTQ #RomanceReaders

Marisburg Connections is a collection of stories centered around four couples and their deepening relationships.

In “Sunlight,” Jack and Tyler struggle with family complications and Jake’s loss of eyesight. Will their love survive six months apart?

“Out For You” is the story of Eric’s fears of being out of the closet and the extraordinary lengths to which he’ll go to keep his lover, Trent, in a state where being gay is considered amoral.

With Mike’s help, Aidan wrestles with his past. Can Mike’s love help him lose the shadow of “Guilt”?

“Dachshund Blocked” is the tale of three rambunctious little dogs and how they help sabotage Peter’s and Abe’s wedding plans.

A Quick Interview with Trent, the second hero of “Out for You.”

EC: So…what attracted you to a man who was in the closet?

Trent: Besides his stunning good looks, his humor, and his passion on the dance floor?

EC: Actually, yeah. What else?

Trent: His honesty.

EC: But, didn’t he refuse for almost a year to be out?

Trent: He’s honest about his feelings. He made his fear clear to me and his love. That’s why I waited so long for him.

EC: Tell us what he looks like.

Trent: He’s ripped. He exercises three days a week and runs almost every day with a running guide.

EC: What’s a running guide?

Trent: When you’re visually impaired, like Eric, you can run with a guide dog or a human guide. Eric has…interesting view…about guide dogs, so he uses a white cane.

EC: What interesting views?

Trent: He vacillates between thinking he should get one and worrying that our little apartment isn’t big enough for a Labrador or other large dog to get the exercise he needs.

EC: What do you think of his old boyfriend’s behavior, breaking Eric’s arm when they were both in high school?

Trent: I’ve never met Aidan Delaney, and I honestly don’t want to, but I tend to think people are the choices they make, and he chose to apologize to Eric. That counts for something in my book.

EC: Thank you for your time.

Trent: No trouble. Just, please, don’t judge Eric too harshly. He is living in one of the reddest states in the US. Being afraid of being jumped is a legitimate fear.

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Copyright ©2022 Emily Carrington
Excerpt from Sunlight

It was early June when Jake emerged from the three-story building that housed the ADA Coordinator’s office. He’d been moving quickly but the moment he opened the door, the world went white. He stumbled to a halt and covered his eyes partially with his left hand. His right tightened on the handle of the white cane he’d only been half paying attention to. It wasn’t that he didn’t need the cane to get around. He’d learned rather quickly that the white cane could save him from many embarrassing or painful situations. But, inside, he barely noticed its whispering across the floor in constant contact with the rugs or tiles. Now, he wished he could just duck back into the safety of the building’s dimmer interior.

But Tyler, his lover, was waiting for him out in the parking lot and Jake really needed Tyler’s comfort. He hadn’t struggled through a bad day, hadn’t done that in a while, but the glare from the sun that turned everything white made him both sad and timid.

He allowed the door to close behind him, listening to its click of finality. Oh, stop thinking like that, he remonstrated himself.

He needed to get to Tyler. So, closing his eyes, he put the cane out in front of him and swept it right to left, checking for obstacles. And, taking his first tentative step forward, he thought, I guess the ophthalmologist was right. Glare was bound to affect me sooner or later.

He wanted so badly to be able to peek and make sure that he was headed in the right direction that he covered his eyes all the way to not allow himself that opportunity. Even assuming he could see something other than white light, he’d give himself a blinder of a headache by trying to use his vision when his eyes were already streaming with tears of strain and overexposure to light.

He heard a door ahead of him somewhere open and close. Then, Tyler said, “Are you okay?” He was still a good distance away but surely he could see Jake’s hand over his eyes. Jake cursed softly, squeezed his eyes even more tightly shut, and dropped his hand. Even through his eyelids, the world was terribly bright but at least he could walk without opening his eyes.

He started to move faster, needing to get to Tyler and the shelter of the truck. He swept his cane from right to left and left to right, trying to feel everything. But he missed something, maybe a crack in the sidewalk, maybe nothing more than an imagined crack, and tripped. He kept hold of his white cane and managed to right himself before Tyler reached him, but both were near things.

“Are you all right?” Tyler asked, touching his arm and then making a sound Jake thought was frustration. “Obviously you’re not. What happened?”

Jake wondered if that frustration was with him. He doubted it. Tyler was the world’s most patient person. He took a breath, needing to confess because he’d end up blurting it out sooner or later. “The glare is killing me. Dr. Metz was right. It finally showed up. The sun…” He shook his head and turned away slightly. “When I’m not looking directly at it, it hurts less.”

Tyler ran his hand up Jake’s arm to his shoulder. Then he leaned close and kissed Jake’s temple, which was thoroughly distracting in a way that made Jake aware of his cock as he hadn’t been all day.

“Maybe it’s time to meet with the white cane instructor again,” Tyler suggested.

Jake’s orientation and mobility teacher was a busy man. He had most of their part of Pennsylvania to look after. “If he’s ever free.”

“I’ll take you to Philly once a week if that’s what it takes.”

“I love you,” Jake blurted. It wasn’t a new concept, but he felt completely overwhelmed with gratitude and desire.

When Tyler kissed him full on the mouth, making him weak at the knees, he knew Tyler’s answer, in his own way, was, “I love you too.”

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.

Fantasy creatures not your thing? Emily has also created a contemporary romance world, called Sticks and Stones, where she explores being “different” in a small town.

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RELEASE BLITZ: Embracing James by Megan Slayer #contemporaryromance #eroticromance #gay @pridepublishing @firstforromance

Embracing James by Megan Slayer

Book 5 in the Love Me Do series

Word Count: 41,106
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 166

GENRES:

CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI

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Book Description


The right cut, the right style and a dash of love.

James Mason has everything he could ever want—his salon is the most famous in town, and he’s got his health and his best bud, his dog Doob. But he’s lonely. James has a knack for pairing everyone up, except himself. He’s been interested in Paul, the sweet man who helps at the salon, but will Paul be interested in him, too? Then there’s the elusive JP Henderson, the owner of the salon building. James has created an image in his mind that this man could be the one.

Jonathan Paul Henderson has lusted after James since the moment he met him. James acts unaffected by wealth and seems drawn to character. He’s adorable, funny and welcoming, too. He also doesn’t seem to mind that Paul wears makeup. Paul feels the connection and knows he wants this man, but will James still accept him after he finds out the truth—that Paul’s his landlord?

Two men, one truth and so much attraction they burn up the sheets. Is theirs a love for now or one meant to last?

Excerpt

“Looks like it’s you and me tonight, Doob.” James Mason petted the dog and settled on the floor with him. Dye Hard Style had closed for the evening and he’d locked the doors, but he wasn’t ready to head home—not yet. He’d rather give the dog attention and listen to the silence.

Christ, he was worn out. He spent most of his days packed with appointments for his styling services. Opening to closing, he had someone wanting his attention. He’d worked hard for his reputation for excellence in hair styling, but that didn’t help when he wanted a break.

Other than his job, he had little else to show for his work. He had no social life outside of the salon. No boyfriend and few actual friends. He didn’t even have the energy to try to pair himself with anyone, not like he did with the guys who came in wanting dates.

The one thing he did have was Doob, his black mutt with a heart of gold. From the moment Doob had shown up at the salon, he’d become James’ constant companion. He’d been more loyal than most everyone else in his life. His ex-boyfriends certainly weren’t loyal.

But he wanted a date. James supposed he could leave Doob at home and call a friend to go out, but he wasn’t in the mood for drama. He’d have plenty of drama tomorrow when he met with Jonathan Paul Henderson, the owner of the salon building and the Annex next door. He’d never actually seen Mr. Henderson. When Lester McCann had sold the building and the one next door, he hadn’t asked James his opinion—not that he’d had to—and never bothered to introduce James to the new owner.

But that was Lester. If he could get away with doing nothing, he’d do even less.

At least James didn’t have far to go in his commute home. Having his apartment in the Annex next door meant all he had to do was walk through the door joining the two buildings. Sometimes living next to the salon did have some perks.

He left the floor and checked he’d locked the front doors, then turned off the main lights. The security ones came on, bathing the space in dim yellow glow. Once satisfied, he patted his hip for Doob, then collected the cash from the register.

The dog had been a lumpy, furry godsend. Doob stuck by him when his depression hit and knew how to make him feel better. The dog was the sweetest thing, too. Whoever had been his family had been lucky to have him.

Part of James wondered why no one had ever claimed Doob. He’d put out what seemed like a thousand fliers, letting the public know he’d found the lost dog. Surely, Doob was missed. He had his name on a metal plate on his collar—wouldn’t a family or someone who cared about the dog do something like put his name on an engraved plate on the collar? If Doob had run away, then why hadn’t anyone come looking for him?

What if they hadn’t wanted Doob? The dog was a good boy and so loyal. How could someone not want him?

If they didn’t want him, James did. He checked that the rear doors to the former theater building were indeed locked and secured, then returned to the salon portion of the building.

He clicked the leash onto Doob’s collar. “It’s been almost a year. If you haven’t been claimed by now, then finders keepers. You’re officially my dog.” He’d already bought Doob’s tags and had him to the vet for his shots. Unfortunately there hadn’t been a microchip in Doob then, but there was now.

Doob circled around James’ legs, catching him up in the leash.

“You’ll trip and kill me, you know. If I’m dead, then you won’t get puppy food.” James slipped the memory card from the register into the cash bag, then zipped it shut. He tucked the bag under his arm and allowed Doob to lead him to the door out of the salon. He appreciated being able to go straight from the salon to his apartment building without having to go outside with a cash bag.

He carried the money to his third-floor apartment, then locked the bag in the safe in his bedroom. He’d worry about the numbers later. Right now, he needed to feed Doob. He unfastened the leash, then added kibble to Doob’s bowl. When the dog settled for his evening nap, that was when James would wrangle the numbers on the ledger.

Doob greedily munched on his dog food and James admired his gusto. Doob never seemed lonely. Just happy to be loved. James wanted to be loved by the dog, sure, but a boyfriend would be nice, too.

“We’ll find someone, Doob. Someone we both like and who will like us as a package deal. Think we can manage as a threesome?” Saying it like that sounded odd, but whatever. Doob was good as a companion, but James needed someone human to warm his bed.

Once Doob finished his dinner and got a drink, half of which he seemed to leave on the mat around his water bowl, James clicked the leash on him again. He and Doob left the apartment for their evening walk.

Doob seemed to love the four laps they usually took around Norville town square and James liked the exercise. Some days he and Doob ventured away from the center of town to the park by the school. Although James liked the excitement of the salon, right now, he wanted peace and quiet.

Doob walked proudly in front of him and sniffed at whatever he found. Once he and James encountered other dogs, Doob fell in line beside James, but seemed to pay no attention to the canines. James wondered if he should socialize the dog more. What if he and Doob were becoming too solitary for their own good?

James stopped to let Doob do his business. As he waited, he considered his life. He loved doing hair and making people beautiful. Helping someone find their inner glam made him happy. But he didn’t want to be single forever.

Maybe he could visit Club Jester. He’d helped enough other guys find true love there. Why not try for himself?

He cleaned up after Doob and tossed the baggie into the receptacle for dog waste, then sanitized his hands.

His thoughts turned back to clubbing. Who would he meet at Club Jester? The same old-same old most likely. Those guys were good, but they were either in a relationship or never going to settle down.

He spotted a jogger coming toward them and stepped off the path to give the athlete space. As soon as the man grew closer, James recognized him. Pauly. He’d chatted more than a few times with Pauly at the salon when the man stopped for haircuts or just to hang out. He liked Pauly, but never got the feeling Pauly wanted a boyfriend. He seemed like too much of a free spirit. He was a whiz with makeup and always managed to make himself handsomely beautiful. James wished he had the same skills with foundation and eyeshadow.

Pauly jogged up to him and stopped. He mopped his brow with his shirtsleeve and grinned. How could one man, jogging no less, look so on-point all the time? Even now, he had makeup on, without smearing it much, and a slight beard. Unreal, but gorgeous.

“Hi, you.” Pauly took a swig from a small water bottle he had wrapped around his hand. “How are you?”

“Hi, yourself. You look fantastic.” He held on to Doob’s leash. “I haven’t seen you at Dye Hard Style in forever. Have you been working out to make yourself chiseled and handsome without telling me?”

“That’s partly true. I’ve always jogged, but I’ve been out of town.” Pauly smiled. “I missed seeing you.”

“Likewise.” A tingle ran the length of his spine and James wondered if the glint in Pauly’s dark eyes was because of him. He stared at the man’s lips and wondered what he tasted like…and when did he get such kissable lips?

“Are you planning on going to the Jester tonight?” Pauly asked. “I hear it’s singles night.”

Singles night could be good, but it could also be awful. “Oh?”

“They brought in a new DJ and are having games to get the singles to mingle.” Pauly rolled his eyes. “If you want to go, want to go together? Then we don’t have to play the singles games.”

He hadn’t wanted to go, but he also hadn’t considered going with Pauly until now. “I should take Doob home and change, but I wasn’t planning on going out.”

“No big deal. I need to finish my jog and would have to shower,” Pauly said. “If you want, I can pick you up. It was my idea, so I can drive. You’re in the Annex, aren’t you?”

James blanched. He didn’t tend to tell people where he lived and only a few people referred to the building as the Annex. “Yeah, I am. I didn’t think you knew that.”

“Oh, I’d heard it.” Pauly blushed. “Sorry.”

He wanted to go out tonight and with Pauly, but something about the situation made him want to hold back. “Why don’t we exchange numbers and I’ll text you when I’m free. We can plan a date for another day.”

“I’d like that.” Pauly offered up his phone. “Do you have yours?”

He patted his thigh. Shit. He’d left his phone at home. “I don’t, but I’ll give you my number.” When Pauly handed him the device, he inputted his work number, then offered the phone back to him. “See you around at the salon?”

“Sure.” Pauly slid the phone back into his armband holder. “I’m sorry if I came off too pushy.”

“Don’t take it personally. I get kind of funny when I go out. I don’t do it often. I’m not a clubbing kind of guy.” He wasn’t any longer. He had been when he was younger, but now that he’d been around…clubbing had lost its luster.

“I get it. You’re more of a stay-home-and-chill kind of guy.” Pauly nodded. “Can’t blame me for trying.”

“Nope.” And maybe one day he’d go out with Pauly. Just not today. “See you?”

“I’ll be around the salon here and there. Maybe next week we could try going for coffee.” Pauly tapped his phone and an album cover filled the screen. “See you.”

James waved and headed with Doob back to his apartment. Maybe he should’ve gone with his instincts and gone out. He’d just inwardly complained he spent too much time alone and the chance to be with someone arose, but he’d chickened out. Or maybe he needed to know Pauly a bit better.

Oh well.

Once in the apartment building, he checked that his car was still safe in the warehouse space, then went upstairs.

He herded Doob to their apartment and unleashed him. “I spent too much time with just you, but you’ve never cheated on me.”

Doob sneezed, then trotted off to his dog bed.

“You can ignore me like a champ, though.” Silly dog.

James removed his makeup and showered, then dressed in a pair of sleep shorts. He made himself a snack of yogurt and granola before turning on the radio. Almost everyone he knew listened to playlists. They curated the hell out of those lists, making the selections of music perfect.

Not him. He loved dance radio and the oldies channel. Why not let the spontaneity of the channel come through? He liked not knowing what would be playing next.

He sat on the window seat and watched the evening traffic below while eating and listening to music.

Tomorrow, he’d meet with JP Henderson finally. He’d explain why Doob needed to stay and probably accept his fate when reminded of the no dogs rule. The rule wasn’t subject to change, the landlord would probably say.

James didn’t like the idea of starting a new salon at another location, but he loved Doob. If he had to leave the old theater, then he’d do it for his dog. He loved the publicity Doob brought, too. People recognized the dog, the salon and his unique style.

Maybe the infamous JP Henderson would be willing to work with him. He had to give it a shot if he wanted to keep Doob.

He’d never met JP Henderson and finally learned his last name three weeks ago. Would the man be amiable? Curt? All business or friendly? Would he be an older gentleman or a sexy younger one? Maybe a sexy silver fox. What if he wasn’t gay, though? What if he was? What if he wasn’t interested in James? James’ imagination kicked into overdrive. What if JP Henderson secretly wanted to have a wild, torrid affair with him and was looking for the right moment to make a move?

Nah.

Romances like that didn’t happen in Norville and they didn’t happen to him. He was a simple guy with simple tastes. Men of mystery didn’t fall for him.

He held on to his yogurt cup and let the Donna Summer song wash over him. Tonight, he had no cares. No worries, either.

Tomorrow was another matter, but first he’d enjoy tonight.

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About the Author

Megan Slayer

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and BDSM themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been the runner up in the Kink Category at Love Romances Café as well as nominated at the LRC for best author, best contemporary, best ménage and best anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on Amazon.com.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice.

Find out more about Megan on her website, and sign up for the newsletter here. You can also check out her Blog, Amazon Author Page, Bookbub and Instagram.

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SPOTLIGHT: Dragon Bridge by E.D. Parr #LGBTQ #GayRomance @parr_books

Thank you for inviting me to your blog with my new release MM romance release, Dragon Bridge, from Evernight Publishing

I first started thinking about this story around two years ago when I saw a shadow across the full moon that looked like a dragon. It was a dark gray cloud, but it captured my imagination and for a year, I considered a plot that might work that sight into a story and so the legend of Ponte Drago, (Dragon Bridge) was born.

It still took me a year to write Dragon Bridge, weaving my legend through the love story to provide the background for characters.

I researched Italy, where the bulk of the story takes place, a little, just enough to imagine places that might exist, but not enough to describe existing towns as I wrote that might take away from the mysterious element I wanted in the story. I’d love to visit Italy for the art that exists there … maybe one day.

My lovely hero Key Alder is an ordinary guy, worn down by life as many people are. Naturally, I’m in love with him, as I am with all my characters. We meet him when he’s struggling emotionally with his work. His journey through this love story allows him to find his lost confidence and in the end, huge courage.

Claudio Di Fiore, my other hero, as Key Alder puts it, is gorgeous and enigmatic. I think, right now, he is one of my favorite characters from any of my MM romance stories. His love for Key is steadfast and fierce. He’s fearless until he falls in love with Key and then Claudio’s only fear is losing him.

The story is contemporary, gay, MM romance, fantasy, adventure, and paranormal romance.

I hope readers enjoy the legend and the love story as much as I loved writing it.

Blurb

Tired from his high stress work fighting cyber-crime, handsome, Key Alder takes a vacation on a beautiful Italian coast. He travels from one gorgeous town to another and after a perilous journey lost in the mountains, he settles into his hotel and relaxes.

In a beachside café, next to a warm pale-blue ocean, a performer hands out fliers for an arts festival in a mountain village. Lured by adventure, Key attends an evening performance of fire juggling acrobats in the legendary village piazza.

Beautiful, enigmatic Claudio Di Fiore, the star of the show, sees Key in the audience and is captured by a wonderful feeling he’s unaccustomed to.

Claudio wants Key.

Key is enchanted by Claudio.

A passionate love grows between the two men.

When Claudio’s mysterious ancient family threaten to tear them apart, will Key risk everything to stay with his loved one?

Read a teaser. Key arrives at his first vacation destination.

As he turned a corner of the high coast road, Key caught his breath as his destination came into sight. The entire hillside of a gorgeous bay housed buildings interspersed with trees and flowering shrubs. Several rooftops sprouted palms in huge pots or tubs of bright flowers. Each building climbed the sheer hillside effortlessly from a beach of white sand toward a wall of crags enclosing the bay. The sun slanted off a jade colored dome and sprinkled glitter on primary colored buildings close by. Key slowed to enter the town, already well below the speed limit in awe of the view, he crawled the car to his hotel. Key had spent hours on the internet making sure he knew where it lay. His newfound fragile lightheartedness wouldn’t stand going around in circles until he was exhausted trying to find the place.

A valet took his car keys to park his rental. A porter picked up his luggage and led him to check in. Relieved by these ministrations, Key smiled at the desk clerk. He gave his name. The young woman on duty returned his smile and keyed something into a computer, then she stood and took a keycard from one of the small rectangular openings in the wall behind the desk. Her near perfect English as she spoke to him was reassuring, but Key decided right then that he’d try to learn some Italian. Then I could at least greet people and say thank you.

Copyright E. D. Parr, Evernight Publishing July 28, 2022

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Read snippet teasers on the ParrX gay romance blog

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RELEASE BLITZ: The Devil’s Lover by Alexa Piper #BDSM #DarkFantasy #LGBTQ @prowlingpiper @changelingpress @GoIndiMarketing

Title: The Devil’s Lover

Series: Hellbound 5

Author: Alexa Piper

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: August 12

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 149 pages

Genre: Romance, Action Adventure, BDSM, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Urban Fantasy, Dark Desire, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures, Magic, Murder Mystery

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Synopsis

Lionel and Lucifer are drawn deeper into a murder case, but they are set on solving it together.

Just when Lionel’s love life has gone back to normal — normal meaning the kinky Devil making his ownership known — Lionel’s murder case gets stranger. Lionel’s birth father seems to have his hands in the mystery, and Lionel finds himself in the sights of Eris, goddess of discord.

Lucifer used to be a prime example of a powerful underworld deity with all the knowledge and skill to take care of a lover in the bedroom. But that was before Lucifer fell properly in love and won over his necromantic boyfriend, who also happens to be a demigod. Lionel’s innate magic, magical skill, and stubborn nature make it exceedingly difficult for Lucifer to be the alpha god he wants to be for Lionel.

Lucifer is set on finding a way to provide for the man he loves and to fulfill Lionel’s every desire. But before he can focus entirely on his necromancer, the two of them must solve the case, prevent primordial deities from being raised and destroying the world, and learn to communicate better. It’s what relationships and crime solving are all about.

Excerpt

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Alexa Piper

Lionel

The Devil’s body in front of mine, protecting me from a threat I didn’t quite understand, that was a new and uncomfortable feeling, and something I didn’t really care for. I tried getting a decent look at the deity that had teleported into Lucifer’s doorless office, but the Devil his own damn self kept pushing me back. It was so annoying when he was trying to be an alpha god.

“Will you cut it out, Beelzebug?” I grumbled, and Trony, in her pink tartan skirt and with her sword in hand, gave me an admiring look.

Nyx, the deity that had Lucifer so riled, chuckled and turned their milky, unseeing eyes on me. “You are a fierce one. Tiamat has said as much.”

And speak of the dragon mother, she appeared in the office as well, which was fine, apart from the fact that she wasn’t wearing any clothes. Awesome.

“What is going on here? Nyx, do you have to scare the children?” the dragon mother said and crossed her arms under her breasts. Not that I was paying any attention to her breasts, but it was sort of hard not to notice they existed. Why did all gods have trouble with clothing? Buttons and zippers really weren’t all that bad.

“Children?” Lucifer said and straightened before pulling me to his side and circling my waist with his arm in a proud <em>look, this is my boyfriend</em> kind of way. Apparently in his mind, the presence of the dragon mother lessened the threat level in his office.

“No one in this room was scared,” Metatron said and flashed her sword.

“What were you saying about Eris?” I asked the blind god… then realized looking at them wouldn’t be enough to cue them in on the fact I was speaking with them. “I mean, Nyx. You were saying about Eris?”

The sightless god turned to face me. “Eager as any human, aren’t you?” They smiled. “Or as the Devil dispensing deals.”

Tiamat clapped her hands. “If you have something to say about Eris, I am interested. I don’t appreciate her harassing poor, lovesick humans around the corner, but I think we can talk while also eating, can’t we?”

Metatron nodded. “I second that. The necromancer has been turning his nose up at my food since his return from Scotland, and he looks worse for wear.”

“I haven’t!” I said. “And I don’t! It’s just been a busy few days, and there were corpses.”

“Humans are quite frail and need regular nourishment, even those who are only partially so,” Nyx said, and they and the dragon mother nodded knowingly.

Lucifer glowered at the other god. “I know best what my boyfriend needs,” he said, but I could tell I was in for eating my breakfast out of the Devil’s hands while sitting in his lap.

* * *

Lucifer was indeed behaving like a total alpha god, and it reminded me that I should call Persephone and give her an update, but that would mean looking at my phone and seeing whatever social media was now making of the sharkomancer incident. Maybe I should still tell her about the minotaur… but what would I even tell her about that? It was confusing, the way I felt or should feel about Minos, and I was actually glad to be dealing with something else right about now.

The dragon mother, Nyx, and Lucifer and I teleported to the already set dining room table, and I tried to grab a chair, but Lucifer wouldn’t let me go. He pulled me close and tilted my chin up.

“How about I take you to Sephy’s and Hades’ place? It’s almost the weekend anyway, and you trained Marc Deacon well. I am sure he can handle things here while you relax a little,” Lucifer said. He was doing his best at looking charming, dashing, someone you didn’t want to say no to. His kitty-cat hair was catching the light just so.

In one word, he was a transparent, overprotective alpha god, and he was trying to lull me into damseling myself, or whatever you’d call it. “You are not benching me,” I said. “I will raise the minotaur, even if it’s –” If it was what? A way for me to get back at him? To make sure he was very and truly dead? I shook my head. “I’ll raise him. I can do my fucking job, whether you believe that or not, Beelzebug.”

Lucifer’s face soured, but then he kissed my forehead. “I know you can, my love, but you don’t have to.”

“What are you saying about raising the minotaur?” Tiamat said. She had put on a bathrobe, just a thin one that hugged her every curve and still revealed a lot, but it was better than nothing. Which was the alternative.

Lucifer hugged me close. “He was apparently murdered in his cell at the human prison not too long ago. Christine just called with the news.”

“The minotaur,” Nyx said, and I wiggled out of Lucifer’s hold and even managed to sit in my own chair instead of the Devil’s lap. My goals had shifted over the past few months, and today, this was an achievement, and I knew it. “He was a powerful human sorcerer,” the blind god went on. They used their cane to find a chair opposite the dragon mother. Lucifer moved his chair at the head of the table to the left, toward my own, until he was sitting right next to me.

“You knew him?” I asked. “How did you know the minotaur?”

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Meet the Author

Alexa Piper writes steamy romance that ranges from light to dark, from straight to queer. She’s also a coffee addict. Alexa loves writing stories that make her readers laugh and fall in love with the characters in them. Connect with Alexa on Facebook or Instagram, follow her on Twitter or TikTok, and subscribe to her newsletter!

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SPOTLIGHT: Clandestine by J. Hali Steele #DarkFantasy #Gay #PNR @jhalisteele

Joshua’s spending more and more time at club Sub Rosa. It’s time he emerges from the shadows to take a more active role. Pursuit of the aloof nightclub owner obsessed with voyeurism carries him over the edge. The stranger’s scent awakens a desire Joshua has not felt in centuries. He vows to have the man. If it means bleeding dry everyone close to either of them, so be it.

Mason Kildare, owner of Sub Rosa, doesn’t play in his own backyard. Instead he frequents other night spots in search of fulfillment. A reserved disposition coupled with gray hair keeps most of the young men he finds attractive at arm’s length, but not Joshua. Joshua storms Mason’s defenses, breaking them down one by one. By the time he discovers Joshua’s bloody secret, Mason has lost more than his body — he’s given away his soul.

Available Today at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 J. Hali Steele

Two groups of patrons had already been discouraged from reaching the corner table, but from previous visits, Joshua knew the spot would soon be occupied. His quarry was later than usual, so he keep his long legs stretched across the aisle. Used to wearing button down shirts, tonight his collar strangled him. He tugged at the neck before undoing another button.

Three youthful revelers snatched attention as they noisily closed in on the table. “Excuse us, dude.” Guy didn’t even look twenty-one.

“You’re excused.”

Largest of the gathering took control. “We want that table. Move your legs. We can get by.”

“Please find another table.” Instinct told Joshua this would get messy. “You passed two.” All this effort to crawl in bed with a man for one night. Sensation sliding down his spine belied that thought. One night my ass. Normally dead calm, Joshua’s annoyance toughened his words. “Stand against the wall for all I care.”

When the one closest to the big man stepped near and bumped his legs, Joshua stood. At least two inches taller, he leaned in and quietly warned, “Touch me once more, and I’ll break every finger on both of your hands. Then how will you play with your tiny dick?”

Stepping back, one of the followers informed his friend, “I don’t mind another table.”

“I mind, and since you’re up, we’ll slip by.”

Spying the man he came to see enter and stroll to the end of the long bar, Joshua decided not to waste more time. He grasped the man’s hand and bent it at the wrist, intending to cause a sprain. “Take. Another. Table.”

“Jesus Christ! You son of a bitch!”

“I’m struggling not to break your hand.” Joshua opted for wrapping his fingers around the cretin’s thick neck. Allowing one fingernail to puncture skin, he effortlessly lifted the idiot an inch off the floor — not enough for customers to notice, but sufficient for the bastard to know he was out matched. “I asked nicely, but you had to take the Lord’s name in vain.”

His friends shuffled backward. “They’re deserting you.” Letting the man’s feet touch the floor, Joshua smiled before licking blood from his finger. “Ah, it’s your lover’s birthday. Fucking him later should make keeping your balls attached a prime concern. Turn and move on.”

“Holy shit, you’re nuts!” The man’s eyes popped wide in their sockets.

“I know.”

That rattle him more.

“Hopefully he never discovers you’re screwing his best friend.”

“I… how… Hold on a minute.”

The waiter picked that moment to make rounds. “Can I get you anything else?” The waiter noticed the intruder and shoved a napkin into his hand. “You’re bleeding.”

“I — I’m good.” He rubbed his neck. “Sorry.”

“I’ll have a lager.” Joshua sat back in his chair. “Send a bottle of your best champagne to this young man’s table.” His boyfriend deserved a decent night out. The blood Joshua had accessed allowed him to deliver a mental prod. Go.

“Uh, thanks, man.”

“Enjoy your partner’s birthday.”

“That was severe.” Sten Majković, Joshua’s best friend, the vampire king, and a royal pain in the ass, sat across the table.

Joshua swiveled in his seat to face Sten. “Who invited you?”

He’d die for this man. Damn near had on two or three occasions. But Sten picked the worst of times to surface. More disturbing was the fact Joshua hadn’t sensed his presence. Not a single drop of his blood pulsed in alert. Joshua was one of less than a handful of vampires who had the pleasure of Sten’s lifeforce, so his manifestation without prior warning should have been impossible, and elicited concern. Scrutinizing his guest, Joshua realized Stan was fingering a coin Joshua had bequeathed him. That provided some explanation. The talisman gave his king insight into Joshua’s life that no one else experienced.

The handsome man Joshua had in his crosshairs was wearing an impeccable navy suit. He strode toward the table Joshua had taken such pains to keep available. His heralding scent and the way his lean body moved had undoubtedly helped distract Joshua, enabling Sten to gain residence at his table unnoticed.

His leader’s intense brown eyes wouldn’t miss Joshua’s interest.

ABOUT THE 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, she can’t do those things but she wishes she could!

Multi-published and Amazon bestselling author of Romance in Paranormal, Fantasy, and Contemporary worlds which include ReligErotica and LGBTQ stories where humans, vampyres, shapeshifters and angels collide-they collide a lot! When J. Hali’s not writing or reading, she can be found snuggled in front of the TV with a cat in her lap, and a cup of coffee.

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

Witch Wolf (Elvenswood Tales) by Alexa Piper #RomCom #DarkFantasy #Gay #LGBTQ @powlingpiper

Will is a witch wolf, a werewolf who can do magic, but his life so far has been anything but magical. He was sold by his own pack and for four years, Will suffered as a slave to his captors — who used him any way they wanted. Now, after a leap of courage has brought him to Colin’s doorstep, Will’s past should be just that, his past.             

Colin can see the new apprentice he’s supposed to teach magic has been hurt. Colin wants to comfort the young werewolf who takes to magic much more easily than he takes to human contact. Their attraction seems mutual, but how can Colin be certain Will even knows what he wants?

As slow affection grows between Colin and Will, Will’s magic does as well, and he allows himself a sliver of happiness. Except the dark past Will thought he escaped from is not quite done with him, and now, it’s not just Will’s life on the line, but also Colin’s, the witch Will’s heart is beating for.

WARNING: Witch Wolf contains references to past sexual assault (with none of it happening on the page), which may be triggering for some readers.

Available TODAY at Changeling Press
or Preorder for June 10th at online booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Alexa Piper

Will

Once upon a time, Will had sent wishes to the full moon with his howls, but what had come true for him were the slick slaps of skin against skin, stinking breath against his face, the taste of his own blood and other, unspeakable things. Will, instead of meeting a prince under the full moon, had been sold to beasts.

Will carefully turned away from the large form next to him in the bed. Everything seemed so loud in the darkness, the other man’s deep breathing, Will’s own, panicked heartbeat which had not slowed while he had waited for the small hours of the morning, refusing sleep. Will moved, inch by inch, away from the other man. Will refused to think what the other man — Ed — would do if he found Will sneaking out. What Ed had done was already more than Will wanted to think about.

Will had considered packing a small bag, but that would have been too dangerous. All he had dared was leave clothes under the bed, in such a way it looked incidental, forgotten laundry.

The floor was cold against Will’s naked feet. Carefully, he stood. He could say he’d just wanted to go to the bathroom if Ed woke now, but Ed was still sleeping, and so Will got his clothes, slowly pulling them up and onto his arms. He could not make too much noise. He had to get this right.

Will didn’t dare put the clothes on in the bedroom — loup-garou hearing was sensitive. He walked through the dark house and to the kitchen, grabbing his shoes on the way. There were shards of a glass on the floor. Ed had thrown it in fury when Will had been too slow in getting Ed his beer. Will walked around the broken thing and quickly cleaned himself with a wipe. He gave one last look to the dirty dishes in the sink, then pulled on his clothes, more concerned with doing it as quietly as he could than about doing it neatly.

Before he turned the knob, he listened to the house, but it was quiet. Ed was still sleeping, and so was his pack of three, all of them loup-garous, all of them vicious. They might still hear the door, but if Will was ever going to run, then this was it.

He opened the door and crossed the threshold. Now, if they found him, they would know without a doubt that he had tried to run, and they would punish him.

Will closed the door as carefully as he could, but the mechanism made a small sound. Behind the house, the alley was dirty. Trash bags rustled in the wind, soda cans rusted and collected dirt. Will had to watch where he stepped so he didn’t make any more noise. His heart was thundering in his chest.

Out on the street, Will quickly broke into a run. He knew he had to put as much distance between himself and them, because they could shift and just hunt him down, and he couldn’t without the moon being full.

Winchester Boulevard, on foot, was quite a walk. It took Will an hour, and he ran most of the time, so when he finally got there, he was sweaty from running and trembling with the cold whenever he slowed down to catch his breath. The house he wanted had a large planter by the front door with a red and white plastic windmill in it. Ella had said the windmill would be there. It was such a silly thing, and there wasn’t even any wind to move its spokes, but Will nearly broke out in sobs with relief.

Will was scared to knock, but at this point, it was this or wait for Ed and his pack to hunt him down. And Will knew they wouldn’t just kill him. If it had been that — if he’d known that would have been the worst he’d have to fear — he might have given up at any point over the past four years, might have just accepted death. Everything else the loup-garous would enjoy doing to him — that was what Will feared.

He was huffing when he stood in front of the door, but he didn’t hesitate to knock.

Will looked over his shoulder as he waited to be let in. This neighborhood was one of the nicer ones for New Elvenswood. The whole city tended to be largely clean and touristy, even if Will had never been allowed to see all that much of the place. The dilapidated house Ed and his pack had rented was the exception more than the rule as far as Will could tell.

Across the street, there was a light on in an upstairs room. Will imagined whoever was up was awake at this hour because of their own choosing. He imagined they were working late or maybe just reading. Just living their life. Will hadn’t lived in such a long time. All he’d been doing since he’d met Ed had been surviving.

The door opened, and Will flinched.

“Yes?” the vampire asked.

Will had known it would be a vampire, but still. This one, his sheer presence absolutely spoke to Will’s wolf nature, and the vampire’s demeanor made Will want to show his belly and submit. He was stunning to behold too, but in a sharp way: almost white-blond hair, icy eyes that had a hard darkness to them, a thin mouth set in a pale face.

With a last shallow breath, Will forced the words he’d prepared in his head out of his mouth. “Ella said you can help people in trouble. I… there’s a pack of loup-garous, and I need to get away from them. I can’t pay you, but I’ll do what you want. I’ll work for you.”

Will’s voice nearly gave out on the last part, because he started shaking violently. It occurred to Will that the vampire looked like a Viking, and his cold eyes were growing only more glacial in their regard. Will doubted the man had laughed for more than a minute in the last hundred years. And he wore nice clothes, really nice clothes. Will knew the vampire was a lawyer, but he felt silly now for asking for help. He expected the vampire to tell him to go and fuck off, just with nicer words.

“Come inside,” the vampire said instead and opened the door wider.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Alexa Piper writes steamy romance that ranges from light to dark, from straight to queer. She’s also a coffee addict. Alexa loves writing stories that make her readers laugh and fall in love with the characters in them. Connect with Alexa on Facebook or Instagram, follow her on Twitter or TikTok, and subscribe to her newsletter!

NEW RELEASE: Slammed (Razor’s Edge Contemporary Erotica) #wrestling #erotica #LGBTQ #kindleunlimited

Pro wrestling rivals TK and Jackson have a secret — one fans and colleagues would never believe. After their latest fight, they meet for a private, no holds barred match, but who will submit first?

Warning: This is a Razors Edge Contemporary Gay Erotica Short. Expect limited plot and character development, and lots of paranormal heat. If youre looking for a lengthy plot driven erotic romance, this is not it!

Available in Kindle Unlimited

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Saloni Quinby

TK stood, his legs braced apart and his arms straining against Jackson’s weight. Jackson’s muscular legs draped over TK’s shoulders. His face buried in Jackson’s crotch, TK thought how much he loved the powerbomb. It was one of the best throws in the greatest sport ever — wrestling. How many other sports allowed a man to nuzzle another guy’s crotch without any questions asked?

Seconds later, he dropped to his ass on the mat, slamming Jackson onto his back. He almost snickered at Jackson’s groans and moans. Just like TK, he was fucking awesome at his job.

The ref called the match in TK’s favor and the crowd roared. TK stood and raised his arms triumphantly overhead while Jackson pushed himself to his hands and knees.

They’d been professional adversaries for the past three years, wowing fans with their outrageous battles and verbal sparring. Their rivalry had made them rich and famous. Jackson was the guy fans loved to hate and TK was the hero. They’d had more rematches than TK could count. Tonight he’d won back his title, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before Jackson challenged him again.

Most likely they’d keep fighting each other until the fans got tired of them. Then new icons would take their place, but tonight they enjoyed the spotlight again.

Jackson, now fully recovered, jumped to his feet and shouted insults at TK. His blue eyes flashed and his powerful torso glistened with sweat. Like TK, he was well over six feet and all rock-hard muscle. Fuck, he was sexy as hell. TK considered throwing him down and claiming his ass right there, but it couldn’t happen. After all, this was, for many, a family event. Besides, he and Jackson were supposed to hate each other’s guts.

TK turned toward the crowd on the other side of the ring and Jackson slammed into him from behind. It felt like he’d been struck by a furious bull.

Considering the size of Jackson’s cock, a bull was a pretty accurate description.

Screams and boos filled the stadium. TK twisted in Jackson’s arms, pinned him face down on the mat and whispered close to his ear, “Your ass is mine.”

Jackson growled and strained to glance at TK over his shoulder. Only when the ref approached to break them up did TK release him.

While the ref shouted at Jackson for his unsportsmanlike attack, TK pointed at him and repeated, “Mine.”

Jackson snarled and stormed out of the ring, shoving aside several “fans” who had been planted in the crowd just for the purpose of making Jackson look nasty.

Match nights were always exciting. Now that the fight was over, the real fun would begin.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Saloni Quinby (Also writing as Kate Hill)

Always a fan of romance and the paranormal, I started writing over twenty years ago. My first story was accepted for publication in 1996. Since then I’ve written over one hundred short stories, novellas and novels. I love to blend genres. I also love horror and a happily ever after, so if you’re looking for romance with witches, aliens, vampires, angels, demons, shapeshifters and more, there’s a good chance you’ll find something to your taste here.

When I’m not writing, I enjoy reading, watching horror and action movies, working out and spending time with my family and pets.

NEW RELEASE: Kelpie’s Claiming (Fairview Chronicles) by Alexa Piper #DarkFantasy #PNR @prowlingpiper

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, Gay, Murder Mystery, Shapeshifters, Suspense, Action Adventure

Rob’s current goal in life? Do not eat people. That’s easier said than done when you’re a kelpie in the service industry. While Rob pursues his goals from behind the bar, a stranger walks in, and Rob catches the man’s scent. Yet, patrons are not for eating, and it should have ended there… except when Rob smells that delicious scent again, the beautiful stranger needs help.

Bertrand wants to fit in, but because he’s part Fae, part Elf, and grew up human, he’s not really at home in either human or supernatural society. Still, he likes being a reporter and following a story all the way to its conclusion. The story he’s pursuing when he walks into Rob’s bar one night is one of supernaturals going missing, and Bertrand seems to be the only one who cares.

Meeting Bertrand might just shift Rob’s life goals. Coming face-to-face with a kelpie stallion might be enough to help Bertrand see where he fits in perfectly. Except Bertrand doesn’t really know what to make of Rob, and also, Bertrand’s missing persons story is bigger than even he envisioned. It’s turning into a case of abduction and trafficking he needs to unravel before he can even think about Rob’s advances. The story will lead Bertrand to some dark places before the year is out.

Available NOW at Changeling Press

Preorder for May 13th at your favorite retailer

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Alexa Piper

The daytime drinkers with the incipient beer bellies were getting louder. Rob was just about to get back to gutting his lime in order to suppress thoughts of gutting those three when the door opened once more.

The icy air tickled Rob’s nose with the smell of the season turning, of snowdrops shaking off the weight of frozen water to sing of longer days and sun returning to the world.

But the man walking into the Ragdoll wasn’t a sprite. He was — glamoured.

Rob, who knew how to use a glamour even if he turned into a carnivorous horse who could break hearts without prettying himself up with magic, could tell. The glamour wasn’t exceedingly strong on this man.

Out of the corner of his eye, Rob saw the mage look up briefly, noticing the same thing, but then dismissing it. She’d have been able to see through it easily enough, and since she didn’t react further, Rob could be sure the man who smelled of snowdrops didn’t have any openly nefarious intentions.

But the man… Rob’s mouth was watering, and he watched as the new patron pulled his fur-trimmed hood back from his golden locks and pried his snug gloves off his long fingers. He had to be part Fae. Rob was pretty sure just from his looks, but with a glamour that hid what he was, Rob couldn’t tell precisely.

The man looked shifty, though. Rob had misspent his youth lingering in pools, ponds, and really any body of water that didn’t have a kappa infestation. He’d done it in order to lure humans and whoever wanted to be lured, so he knew what shifty looked like quite intimately.

The glamoured patron wasn’t the let’s-drown-them-and-eat-their liver type of person, not that Rob would ever admit to anyone that he himself had ever been that person. The man wore glasses. They misted up in the warmth of the Ragdoll, and he had to pull them off, revealing a set of hazel eyes that brimmed with intelligence. Without the glasses, he wasn’t too blind to find one of the quiet corner tables, where he deposited his large frame in a chair that looked flimsy under him.

Because yes, the man looked like the kind of person Western directors with a bottomless budget would cast for the role of a Greek hero or an intergalactic hero. Rob liked a man who could hold his own in a fight, and he shivered at the thought of this one’s thighs pressing into Rob’s sides when he was in his horse form. He shivered at the thought of this man riding him.

Kyle grabbed a menu and made his way to the man while Rob watched.

The new patron was interested in the soon-to-be beer-bellied. He glanced past Kyle and seemed too distracted to properly examine the menu, but Kyle nodded and scribbled something on his notepad.

“Hey, boss.” Carla, Rob’s strawberry blonde half-succubus bartender, had snuck up on him and was clapping him on the shoulder.

“Please don’t startle me,” he told her. “And also, hello. You are early.”

“Well, I figured you might need the extra pair of hands,” she said and gave his still unharmed lime a pointed look.

“I was getting to that,” he told her, frowning.

Carla sighed. “Can I say something?”

“Can I stop you?”

She crossed her arms in front of her beautiful succubus chest. “What do you think?”

“Well, let’s have it.”

“You, boss, need to get laid. It might be, I don’t know, a shifter thing. I swear it’s like you guys molt or something.”

Rob sliced the lime in half neatly and let it bleed its acidic last on his cutting board. “Carla, dear. I turn into a horse. I do not molt.”

She raised her finger to forestall a lecture. “Changes nothing. You need to bang someone.” She tapped her nose with a finger, the nail painted fire-engine red. “I can tell.”

“I’m stressed because I’m tending bar when I shouldn’t be tending bar,” Rob said.

She waved that off. “Pfft. You’re happy for Ilya, admit it. Maybe ask that witch if he has a brother?” she asked and wiggled her eyebrows.

“He’s the sole Fey heir, and you know that as well as I do,” Rob said. “Also, I do not need to urgently bang a witch.” Rob kept his voice down, because he was not easily shaken, certainly not by the suggestion that he was in need of sex. Rob was accomplished. He had the occasional one-night stand, because (just like Ilya) he looked good behind the bar, almost as good as he did as a horse with his hooves in a lake, his mane dangling in the water, and the moon hitting his shiny coat just so.

Yes, if Rob wanted to find a warm body to put his cock in, he could do just that, but the succubus was overreacting. It was a thing with ‘cubi, assuming that one needed to have sex all the time or else one’s health — mental or otherwise — was in danger.

“Did you just daydream about fucking Aaron?” Carla asked.

Rob made quick work of the lime. “I did not, and I reject the idea.” Although the witch was a big strong man under that coat he wore all the time. But no. Going there was no good — even if from the looks of it, Aaron had very nice shoulders.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Alexa Piper writes steamy romance that ranges from light to dark, from straight to queer. She’s also a coffee addict. Alexa loves writing stories that make her readers laugh and fall in love with the characters in them. Connect with Alexa on Facebook or Instagram, follow her on Twitter or TikTok, and subscribe to her newsletter!