Tag Archives: LGBTQIA+

Release Blitz: Returning Heroes by Harry F. Rey #LGBTQ #SciFiRomance #Aliens @ninestarpress @GoIndiMarketing

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Title: Returning Heroes

Series: The Galactic Captains, Book Six

Author: Harry F. Rey

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 01/11/2022

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male, Male/Male Menage

Length: 83100

Genre: SciFi, LGBTQIA+, action,adventure, aliens, dark, MM romance, #ownvoices, royalty, sci-fi, futuristic, space, folklore, gods, intercultural, interspecies, war of worlds

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Description

Captain Ales has returned to the galaxy, forever changed as the powers have prepared for war. He’ll accept help from anyone if it leads to the mysterious Turo from whose cage Ales must free himself if he ever wants to return to the Red Moon.

Meanwhile Daeron has been offered the deal of a lifetime by the ruler of the Seven Suns. Marry Osvai, the Kyleri prince, and become heir to the richest star-state in the galaxy while raising an army to restore the prince to his rightful place as Emperor of the Million Suns.

But Viscamon’s grip on Jiwani has only tightened as the nobles imprisoned in the Royal Baths still refuse to bow to the immortal’s cataclysmic theology of destroying the Galactic Balance. It seems the only way for Imperial Guard Captain Antari to avoid a massacre is outright treachery.

While dynasties play galactic politics, the Outer Verge is being torn apart. From a prison cell, Mahnoor watches The Rip destroying Targuline, until the Kyleri rebels offer him the chance to save himself by flying into the heart of danger. He might even become Jansen’s most unlikely hero.

Heroes and villains run riot around the galaxy, unleashing destructive forces and sliding the great powers toward a war from which no one will be safe.

Excerpt

Returning Heroes
Harry F. Rey © 2022
All Rights Reserved

The sleek, spacious travel pod sliced through the swirling burnt-orange clouds of Bazman. Daeron edged forward on the puffed, pillowy chair that consistently failed to relax him. He tugged at the high collar of his pure-white Dalvian silk jacket—yet another gift from President Ezreal. He stared out the window at the spindly towers stretching in and out of the clouds above and below. The teeming city-world of Bazman, capital of the Confederation of the Seven Suns, supposedly the richest star-state in the Shakti Democria, was to Daeron no better than any of the thousands of worlds he’d been on. The rich lived above, flying around in these perfumed and carpeted pods, while the poor shuffled in and out of a noxious atmosphere far below.

Daeron could go anywhere he wanted on Bazman; no store, restaurant, menagerie, or cultural complex was too exclusive for President Ezreal’s new favorite son. Six weeks ago, they’d barely escaped the Kyleri fleet which had blown up Aldegar’s megacollider. Daeron and the remaining crew of the Daring Huntress chased Turo and the double-crossing Ezi into the Shakti Nebula, only to end up invited to land here by Ezreal’s security forces. On Bazman, where he could go anywhere at all, just not leave.

“What’s wrong now, Daeron?” Osvai said, relaxing in his similarly styled—but all black—Dalvian silk suit. The missing heir to the Kyleri Empire sipped on a Lactarian malt from a crystal glass while grinning at an entertainment package broadcast on the holoscreen in front of his seat. Lest His Imperial Majesty get bored in the half hour it takes to get from Bazman’s presidential palace to the restaurant opening. Daeron glanced over at the prince who was now biting his lip to keep from laughing at the holovid. Daeron watched for a moment. He’d never seen anything so stupid.

“What’s so funny about people walking into things? It’s cruel.”

Osvai wasn’t listening. He gasped in laughter as some poor unsuspecting holo-person had a pile of trash dumped on their head. Daeron flung himself against the seat, but it only absorbed the shock and began to massage his lower back. Daeron could huff all he wanted, but Osvai had stopped caring about what bothered Daeron. He stroked his thick black beard, forgetting it was still glistening in the fancy oils Osvai made him use. Daeron wiped his greasy hand on the plush arm of the chair and returned to staring out the window at the traffic lanes of pods gliding through the clouds and between the towers—with no end and no beginning.

“Are Xenia and the rest of the crew coming tonight?” Daeron asked, breathing slowly through his nose, trying to let the fury of being stuck in a gilded prison subside. It wasn’t going anywhere. Just like him.

“They left.”

Daeron spun on the chair to face Osvai.

“They…left?”

“Yeah. Didn’t I tell you?” Osvai said, not looking up from the holovid. Daeron yanked at the silk collar constricting his neck, and it let out a satisfying rip.

“No…you didn’t tell me. That was…my crew. My ship.” Daeron was doing everything in his power to stay calm, but he knew his string was about to snap. Maybe if Osvai understood that, they wouldn’t spend half their nights screaming at each other in their apartment in the presidential palace.

“I guess they went to meet your mom.” Osvai drained his glass, then stretched and placed it inside an alcove grooved into the wall where a nozzle filled it back up. “Isn’t it her crew again now she’s back?”

Daeron fell into a sulking silence at the mention of his mom. Maybe Osvai knew him better than he thought. Because the moment Captain Sanya was raised, Daeron shut down. It had been weeks since she and that Tevian girlfriend of hers, Sallah, had crossed back through the horizon point with her brat, Ales. Had they come to see him? No. Daeron had only learned their mission had been successful from the newscasts. The returning hero Captain Ales, who apparently had an Ingvarian fleet at his disposal now, as well as the entire Outer Verge, had been spotted at the Mayo resort in the Central Star States. After their collective trauma, Captain Sanya, Sallah, and Ales had decided to play happy families and treat themselves to a little vacation at one of the most expensive systems in the galaxy.

It hurt Daeron hard. He’d still not seen her. Not even a holovid call. He stretched out his hand and opened his palm-tech to flick through the only messages his mom had sent since she’d returned.

The megacollider is gone then?

Yeah, as if a rebel Kyleri fleet blowing up an ancient sphere surrounding an entire sun had been his fault. Then, loving, motherly message number two.

Why is Osvai not back on Jiwani? And you lost Turo? Can’t you do anything right?

Good point. Why was Osvai not back on Jiwani?

“Don’t you care at all?” Daeron snapped, spitting his frustrations at Osvai. The prince finally looked up from the holovid, staring back with those thin eyes and sunset skin that Daeron couldn’t deny filled him with lust. Even if he was perpetually pissed off at him.

“Care about what, Daeron?”

“Your fucking empire.” Daeron stood up, kicking the chair hard so it spun like a ship out of control. Osvai drained his glass again and, with an overly audible sigh, came over to Daeron and slid his small arms as far around Daeron as they could go. But Daeron wriggled out of his half hug and slunk to the back of the pod, watching the dusty clouds spinning like a vortex as they flew.

“What do you want me to do, Daeron? Fight Viscamon for my throne with what army, exactly?”

“My mom said to take you home.”

“Oh, your mom said. It’s always the same story with you, Daeron. Your mom says you have to stay on Jiwani with a father you never knew, and you stayed. Your mom says look after me until I’m back on Jiwani, and you blame me for staying in the one place in the galaxy no one’s trying to kill me!”

Here we go. Another screaming match.

“Can we not do this now?” Daeron said, arms folded and his back to Osvai. “The president invited us to this restaurant opening, and since he’s the one keeping you safe and letting us stay for free, we don’t need you getting drunk and making a scene.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, more drunk.”

Osvai sucked in a short breath. If they’d learned one thing about each other since escaping Jiwani together on the night of Osvai’s father, Emperor Kantori’s, assassination, it was how to push each other’s buttons.

“When was the last time you saw Xenia?” Osvai asked, lathered in bitterness. “Or Tal, or Bindi? Or even Voros? When was it? Kaj’s memorial service?”

“Shut up, Osvai.”

“You haven’t asked about them in weeks. So don’t pretend you didn’t know they’d leave. You didn’t want to know.”

“I said shut up!”

“You can say I’m afraid all you want. And yes, I am afraid of going back to Jiwani when Viscamon is imprisoning nobles until he’s blackmailed enough to crown himself emperor. That’s a normal thing to be scared of. But you—”

“Osvai, I’m fucking warning you.” Daeron spun around to see him sauntering around the pod with a look of victory splashed across his face.

“You might look like a big scary man, Daeron, but you’re just a little boy. Afraid of what his mommy will say.”

Daeron had already exploded. Fury prickled his body; sweat soaked the suit. He’d throw Osvai out of this pod if he could. His fists clamped together, ready to test just how much of a punch this glass could take.

“You have arrived at your destination,” the pod’s soft female voice said with a ding. “Have a pleasant evening.”

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Harry F. Rey is an author and lover of gay themed stories with a powerful punch with influences ranging from Alan Hollinghurst to Isaac Asimov to George R.R. Martin. He loves all things sci-fi and supernatural, and always with a gay twist. Harry is originally from the UK but lives in Jerusalem, Israel with his husband.

Website | Twitter

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Anima Instinct by AJ Graham #shifters #DarkFantasy #LGBTQ @changelingpress

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Animal Instinct by AJ Graham
Published by Changeling Press
Cover Art by Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Shifters, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Romance,
Bisexual, Multisexual & Pansexual, Gay, Werewolves & Wolf Shifters

Sometimes the shape of desire isn’t human. While shifter desires are dark and intense, humans can be fragile, but adventurous.

Runaway: Werewolf lovers on the run, Keith and Taylor must fight for their lives and their freedom.

Eyes of the Wolf: Kaila would do anything to save her people, even give herself to the barbarian leader of the Wolf Clan…

Wolf’s Promise: Ashrin knows Shana is his mate, and he’ll do whatever it takes to be with the woman he loves.

Half-Blood: A half-human shifter can’t afford to trust anyone. Yet Haden must find a mate or die.

Dante Burning: Love between humans and shifters is complicated… and wild.

Publisher’s Note: Animal Instinct (Box Set) contains the previously published novellas Runaway, Eyes of the Wolf, Wolf’s Promise, Half-Blood, and Dante Burning.

Praise for Runaway

“This is a very good story to add to anyone’s werewolf collection.”–Lydia, Rainbow Reviews

Praise for Eyes of the Wolf

“Eyes of The Wolf was an amazing read…. Well done!”— Noelle, Night Owl Reviews

Praise for Wolf’s Promise

“I enjoyed every page of Wolf’s Promise… an intense and enjoyable voyage into a fantasy world of virgins and demons.”— Stephanie E., Fallen Angel Reviews

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 AJ Graham
Excerpt from Dante Burning

I had to be dreaming. If I were awake, Devin’s head wouldn’t be between my legs, his full lips stretched around my aching cock, my fingers clenched in his shaggy wheat-brown hair. If this was real, he wouldn’t be looking at me like that, gazing up through a veil of soft, dusky lashes, eyes smoky with lust.

I watched his smooth, flushed cheeks draw inward, sucking me deeper.

God, he was beautiful.

I didn’t want to wake up, but I could feel the cold fingers of reality prying their way into my head in the form of a monstrous, throbbing hangover. I tried to hang onto the dream, but the dull red pulse behind my eyes wouldn’t be ignored. It dragged me, kicking and struggling, back to wakefulness. The blood banged in my head.

Oh man.

“Te? Te, are you all right?”

Devin’s voice. He was the only one who ever called me Te. To the rest of the world, even my mom, I was Dante.

I’ve always loved the way Devin said my name — the tap of tongue against teeth, the soft exhalation of air. Though at the moment, I wasn’t in any condition to appreciate it.

I opened my eyes a crack, then slammed them shut as sunlight blinded me. It looked like the sun had just gone supernova outside our apartment. “Ugh. Daylight.”

“Hang on…” I heard a rustle as he pulled the curtains shut, and the room got marginally less bright. “How’s that?”

“Better.” It still felt like white-hot needles were stabbing my eyes, but the needles were a bit less sharp now. There are certain things that go along with being a cat-shifter. One of those things is enhanced senses. A nice perk, most of the time. Not so nice when you’ve got a hangover.

A cool, damp cloth draped over my brow, and I sighed with relief. “Thanks.” I pried my sleep-crusty eyelids open and found myself looking into a pair of big gray eyes. Same ones from my dream. But instead of being glassy with passion, they just looked worried.

“What did you do last night?” he asked.

I gave him a strained smile. “Better not to ask.”

Most of the night was a blur, but I knew I’d done a lot of Mezcal shots. Mezcal is like tequila’s tougher, dirtier big brother. It’s smoky and earthy and burns a molten trail down your throat. It’s that stuff on liquor store shelves that usually has a worm or a scorpion floating in the bottle.

Had I actually eaten that scorpion on a dare? I hoped that was just a dream.

Devin bit his lower lip. “Te… are you okay?”

I looked away, knowing he was asking about more than the hangover. And I couldn’t blame him for worrying. This was — what, the third time this week I’d come home shit-faced? The worst thing was, he didn’t know the half of what I did or why I did it. I drank to numb myself, to forget. To blunt other urges.

I thought about the dream, and the guilt came rising up to choke me. My gaze flicked to his lips; then I quickly looked away. Thank God there’d been a blanket over me when I woke, or he might have seen the evidence.

I might be a cat, but just then, I felt more like a pig.

“I’m okay,” I muttered. “I’ve got it under control.”

He lowered his gaze. The guilt twisted in my chest like a knife.

Devin. My roommate, my best friend since third grade, the only person in the world I trusted enough to let near me while I was feeling this shitty… and the man whose body I secretly craved more than anything in the world.

No, not just his body. That might be easier. I wanted him. His mind, his soul. I wanted everything. But it wasn’t going to happen. So I did what I always did: I bundled up those feelings and tucked them away in the deepest, darkest drawer of my brain. Captain Denial, that’s me.

“You should eat something,” Devin said.

I made a face. He was probably right, but at the moment, food sounded like the most disgusting thing in the world. “Don’t think I could.”

“Have some toast, at least. Please?”

That tone melted me every time. He could wind me around his little finger like a piece of taffy, and he didn’t even know it. “I’ll try. Not promising it’ll stay down, though.”

I started to sit up, but he pushed me gently back to the bed. At the pressure of his hands on my shoulders, my heart jumped.

“Don’t move. I’ll take care of it.”

I sank back to the bed, closed my eyes, and nodded, wondering for the thousandth time what I’d done to deserve someone as good as him.

He brought me buttered cinnamon toast and a big glass of milk, and he sat and waited as I munched and sipped. I was hungrier than I’d realized, and once I’d had a few bites, my stomach settled.

“Don’t you have class?” I asked through a mouthful of toast.

“It’s Saturday.”

“Oh. Right.” I sank back to the bed and draped an arm over my face. I didn’t have work today either. Good thing too. If I stumbled into the pub in this condition, Rosaline would fire my fuzzy ass.

I moved my arm away from my face, enough to peer up at Devin through one bleary eye. I’d adjusted to the sunlight, and I could see the way it caught in his hair and highlighted the curve of his cheek, his neck. I knew from experience how soft that skin was. Over the years, we’d brushed against each other so many times — his hand grazing mine, our bare arms pressing lightly together as we sat side by side. I knew what he would feel like. And he was wearing a soft blue sweater, the sort of thing that would be easy to slide my hands beneath and —

I slammed the door shut on that thought, but it was too late. My hard-on was back, in spite of the raging inferno in my head.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

AJ Graham has a passion for cold weather, unusual beers, and anything otherworldly.  Dragons, demons, shapeshifters and psychics have always populated their imagination, but sometimes the real world can be just as fascinating and mysterious.  And no matter the genre, AJ has always loved stories about soulmates connecting.  Whether it’s instant, explosive passion or a slow burn, the power of two (or more) minds and bodies coming together to form a greater whole is always a story worth telling.  AJ lives in the Chicago suburbs with their husband.

New at Changeling Press: Legally Claimed by Alexa Piper #LGBTQ #vampires #urbanfantasy @prowlingpiper @changelingpress

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Legally Claimed (Elvenswood Tales)

By Alexa Piper

Published by Changeling Press

Peter is good at being a lawyer. He also happens to be a vampire, which — in his experience — is far less exciting than the books make it out to be. The most romance he gets these days is watching others fall in love. But this vicarious lifestyle isn’t something Peter minds or even wants to change.

Theo escaped an abusive relationship and is determined to get his college degree, even if prostitution is how he pays for it. No stranger to the supernatural, he has agreed to let vampires bite him for money, but his first client in the new city is nothing like Theo expected.

Peter has no good reason to tuck Theo into bed after that blood donation, but he does. Peter also has no reason to fantasize about Theo, and yet, Peter’s mind is soon drifting to the pretty, black-haired, jade-eyed boy he doesn’t even really know.

A chance encounter at New Elvenswood University brings Peter’s fantasies close to reality. Theo’s vampiric ex soon becomes a problem Peter will have solve. And he won’t use his skills as a lawyer to do it, either.

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Alexa Piper

Sitting behind his desk at his law firm, Peter Collins stared at the spreadsheet that was currently open on his work laptop. But the columns and all the numbers made no sense. Spreadsheets never did when Peter hadn’t had some nice fresh blood in a while, even if he normally loved himself some Excel magic. Sighing theatrically for the benefit of exactly no one because he was alone in his office, Peter leaned back in his ergonomically optimized chair and glared at the damned spreadsheet. It still made no sense, and obviously, his glaring was wasted on the damn screen. With a dismissive gesture, Peter closed his laptop and got to his feet.

He had the corner office, naturally, because he had founded the law firm Collins & Partners. Most days he liked the room that had been designed with an eye to justifying what his clients were billed for an hour of his lawyery time. But right this moment, Peter couldn’t spend another second in here because the cubist paintings just seemed gaudy.

Peter swung the glass door open with a touch and hurried down the hallway, the nice scowl on his face forcing everyone to move out of his way. Peter barged into Michael’s office, and the handsome siren looked up.

“Anything you need?” Michael asked.

Oh, Peter had a list of things he conceivably needed from Michael, and that list had grown ever since Michael had started working for him. At first, Peter had entertained thoughts of a nice, tempestuous affair with the delicious-looking siren. Peter had never had siren’s blood, and he’d wondered what Michael’s blood would taste like in the throes of passion.

However, Michael had not been interested, and Peter was not one to force his own desire on others because, the bother. Then, Michael had started dating a human, the cutest little librarian in all New Elvenswood, and that had been better, because Peter got to watch those two being adorable together. He’d also gotten to watch the cutie-pie librarian go up against a Yule cat to protect Michael, and then the three of them had enjoyed a vacation with a little zombie extravaganza on the entertainment front. It had been such fun.

Now, Peter’s siren and the cute librarian were planning their wedding, and Peter, to whom the sweet little librarian had given the epithet “the Terrible,” felt he was not involved enough. Yet, Peter could not outright state the injustice, because then he would have to explain his desire to be more involved, and the bother.

But still, in the face of a properly engaged Michael doing some paperwork or other, all Peter wanted to say was that he needed to be consulted on wedding decisions.

The goddamn bother. “Just checking in. I wanted to make sure you were dealing with your current caseload. I would understand if you needed more time with Corvin right now.”

Michael smiled up at Peter. “It’s fine, actually. Corvin’s excited and he’s still processing that his best friend is dating an Elf. And a vampire.”

Peter nodded. “Those are Lord Laurette’s lovers, yes?” That sweet, bookish Corvin was friends with one of the Elven lord’s lovers was, frankly, a wonderful happenstance. Peter had high hopes of meeting them and watching that story unfold. If an Elf such as Laurette of the Silver Moons had claimed two lovers, that romance truly had to be epic. Peter would like nothing better than to watch that love story from the sidelines, but still close enough to where the action was happening. Michael and Corvin would always be Peter’s favorites, but an Elf, a human, and a vampire? There was just no way that was not a romance built for swooning over in secret.

Michael nodded. “Yes. Corvin can’t believe he had to be engaged to a siren and survive a horde of zombies before getting told about all that.”

“Understandable. Perhaps we should go to the library? To surprise your Corvin, of course. I should like to make sure he is fine after that drama with the garden shears in Morrowvale.”

Really, Michael had to give Peter that. It wasn’t an unreasonable request, and Peter loved seeing Michael and Corvin kiss, touch — all that wonderful intimacy.

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!

Find Alexa Online: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | TikTok | BookBub

Release Blitz: All the Wrong Reasons by Sebastian Hansen #LGBTQ #fantasy #BDSM @ninestarpress @GoIndiMarketing

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Title: All the Wrong Reasons

Author: Sebastian Hansen

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 12/28/2021

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 111700

Genre: Fantasy, LGBTQIA+, Romance, urban fantasy, action, family-drama, superheroes, gay, nonbinary, trans, BDSM, secret identity, billionaire, Dom/sub relationship

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Description

The day after telekinetic supervillain (and billionaire philanthropist), Stetson Nadenheimer dies, he wakes up on the autopsy table and falls in lust with the man hired to cut his cold, dead corpse open. The problem is that the forensic pathologist is Doctor Julian Dandridge, the part-time superhero, Scatter. It’s probably a bad idea for a supervillain to get into bed with a superhero. Probably.

Not that it stops him, but trying to start a relationship with a reluctant hero without getting caught turns out to be easier said than done. Between midnight meetings over games of checkers and kinky secrets, Stetson and Julian begin a tremulous romance. Unfortunately for them, there’s an actual villain watching from the shadows, waiting for Stetson to stumble.

Excerpt

All the Wrong Reasons
Sebastian Hansen © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
STETSON

The last thing I remember seeing before I died was the garish gold and orange spandex-clad fist of Major Bigstuff flying at my face at something like a million miles an hour. I lost my telekinetic grip on the wall I was holding. The debris came down on my head, which the masonry squished like a rotten melon. Brains all over the place. Bones shattered. Totally dead.

Not my finest hour.

A day later, I woke up on the medical examiner’s slab. Nobody knows why this happens. It’s a super-thing. Superheroes come back from the dead all the time. It’s practically a requirement for the job. Like when you go to get your physical at the Hall of Good Guys Forever and they stab you in the heart to make sure you’ve got what it takes to come back. I’m not entirely sure this is true, but you hear rumors.

What’s odd about me waking up is that I wasn’t a superhero. I was kind of the opposite. The anti-superhero.

My name is Stetson Nadenheimer (it’s not my fault), and before my timely death, I was a supervillain. They call me Jester. Nice to meet you.

It’s not that supervillains don’t come back from the dead. We do, but it’s usually the big-time ones. The “build a death ray and hold the world to ransom for all the money” ones. I’m not even Major Bigstuff’s main rival. He just happened to be flying past the bank I was robbing on his way home from Denny’s.

That’s what I did, by the way—rob banks. No building death rays, no kidnapping or killing people. I’d never even held anyone hostage. My Fortress of Evil is more like a Penthouse Belonging to That Mildly Irritating Villain.

But I liked robbing banks. Since most super-people are what you’d call physical (strength, size, agility, speed—you know, that kind), they don’t know what to do when someone’s power is mental. Mental powers aren’t common—and they’re not popular. Telepathy isn’t as flashy as super strength and doesn’t play well on camera. Hence, nobody’s figured out anti-telekinetic security.

Besides, I liked to flirt with the tellers. They had no idea how to handle a tall, handsome man in a sleek (cheap) black tux and white masquerade mask. I’ve got some killer green eyes too. Alas, while my black hair is long enough for a ponytail (tellers love ponytails), I kept it bound up and hidden in a hat. I’ve never wanted to take over the world, but I’m damned charming. It drives superheroes up the wall.

Anyway, back to the ME’s slab. Right. So. After knowing for a fact that my brains are all over the floor of the First United Citizens Bank on Twenty-second Street, I open my eyes. What’s the worst thing you’ve ever woken up to? In my case, it was a whirring bone saw in the general vicinity of my head.

I screamed. Well, wouldn’t you?

The bone saw immediately stopped, and I quickly became aware of someone laughing. A glance to my left confirmed that I wasn’t alone. A young man in green scrubs with tousled blond hair was turned away, covering his mouth to hide his grin.

“Works every time,” he said and set the saw down on a table just out of my reach. Then he turned to look at me, and I stopped breathing again.

In addition to the adorable hair, the man was indeed young with deep-blue eyes, dimples, and the prettiest smile I’d ever seen.

The smile faded quickly. “Welcome back.” He narrowed his eyes and watched me carefully.

My mouth opened to say something, but my brain hadn’t caught up. It was still trying to imagine what the man would look like in my bed. I’m an uncomplicated person like that. It might not have been love at first sight, but lust? Certainly. The problem currently facing me was this: I was obviously in a morgue of some kind, half-naked, drenched in my own blood, and sitting on a frigidly cold metal table. The place smelled of chemicals—formalin (I found out later) and bleach.

Forget flirting. This man had seen me dead, which is so much worse than naked.

Eventually, I managed a strangled, “Hello.”

The corner of his mouth quirked, and the smile came back slightly. He nodded and walked away from me toward the far wall, where he dug a clear bottle of water out of a cooler. He held it up for my inspection. “Thirsty?”

I nodded. My voice was still on the fritz, and he thought it was because my throat was dry instead of…oh…any other reason. I was thankful for it. Anyway, my mouth was parched. I took the bottle gratefully and drank half in one go before finding my voice again.

“Do you often wake people up in the morgue with a bone saw?”

He smiled. I wanted to melt. God. I can’t describe that smile and do it justice. Accept for a moment that it was stunning, will you? If it helps, compare it to rainbows on sunny spring mornings. Like the sun rising at dawn. The light of his smile forgave all sins, watered all crops, and brokered world peace.

The hyperbole is necessary. Everything that happened after that night started with his smile wrapping me up and turning my world on its head.

“Only people like you.” The smile didn’t budge.

“People like…me.”

“Dead people who aren’t dead anymore.”

“Oh.” I blinked. “So, you do it to heroes, too, then?”

He pursed his lips and rolled his eyes thoughtfully. “Mm-hm. They don’t like it either—Mistress Tidal broke one on me, but there’s something about the sound. It tends to bring people around quickly.”

“The alternative is getting our heads cut into.”

He laughed. Please insert a description of silvery bells and songbirds here. He had a pleasant voice. “I wasn’t going to cut you open. You were already breathing.”

“I…was?” I glanced around, certain I knew where I was now. I looked down at my blood-stained hand. “Tell me, were you able to get fingerprints off my corpse? I’ve never been arrested before, so I doubt they’d do you any good.”

“No.” He shook his head. “And no DNA either.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Ah. And now we’re just waiting for reinforcements to arrive, aren’t we?”

“Are we?” He smiled again, and my reply stuck in my throat. “It’s nearly ten o’clock on a Thursday night. Nobody’s around.”

“Ah…and you’re alone here with a formerly dead supervillain because you’re, what? Confident in your medical plan?” I asked with a snort.

He laughed again. “I don’t think you’re going to hurt me. I’m pretty durable. My name is Dr. Julian Dandridge. I’m a part-time superhero. They call me Scatter.”

Ah, Scatter. I’d heard of him, but never run up against him. He belonged to the Guild, which was Kinsley City’s very own organization of superheroes. A sort of Hall of Self-Righteousness. Major Bigstuff ran the show over there.

Well, that put a wrench in my dream of having him tie me to my bed.

I frowned. The revelation that Dr. Julian was a lost cause stung more than it should have, considering we’d just met. Still, he was in the Guild, and that wasn’t good for me by any means.

The Guild didn’t typically bother about me. I was small-time and didn’t offer much in the way of a challenge. When I did run into one of their members, I tended to extract myself from the situation as quickly as possible. I can fly—and over my months-long bank robbing spree, I’d gotten good at evading the Guild’s fliers.

I glanced around, getting my bearings. A few pencils on the desk behind Julian rolled on my command, and I breathed a little easier. My telekinesis was up and ready to go.

I smiled. “You know what they call me, I’m assuming.”

“Jester.” He shrugged. “So, here’s what’s going to happen—”

I held up a hand to forestall him and started talking. It was important to prattle on so his attention focused on me and my mouth. That way, he wouldn’t notice me telekinetically prying the window out of its frame until it was too late.

“There’re a couple ways this could go. The first is dull and causes more of a mess than its worth. You call your Guild. They show up, we have a spirited scrap, and maybe I end up dead again. If not, and you manage to throw me in SuperMax, I call my astronomically overpriced lawyer and make bail in under an hour. Then we spend weeks wading through red tape, and in the end, I get a slap on the wrist, some community service, and maybe a fine. I’m not the kind of supervillain who makes headlines, Scatter, and you lot have bigger things to worry about than someone like me. Death rays and such.”

He crossed his arms.

“Of course, there’s option number two.” Grinning, I simultaneously lifted myself off the table and out of Julian’s reach and crooked my finger at the window, popping it out of its frame and setting it gently aside. “Which involves me escaping. You can’t fly, can you?”

“If I could, I’d have you down already.” He shrugged. Then he did something I did not expect.

He winked.

I paused near the ceiling. “You’re letting me go?” I asked, incredulously.

“Letting you go? Oh no. No. What kind of superhero would I be if I let a villain escape?”

“A very bad one.” I pressed my hands against the ceiling and stared down at him in disbelief.

He frowned. “Do you want me to stop you?” The tone of his voice implied that he could. I believed him.

“Not particularly.”

He looked away, thinking, arms crossed, then glanced back at me. “Then do me a favor and knock over some tables on your way out.”

“So it looks like we got into the aforementioned tussle?” I asked.

“Plausible deniability.”

I blinked.

“Look, either go or don’t. Let’s just say I’ve seen some things, Jester. Supervillain?” He smirked. “Sure.”

“You’ve seen some—”

He waved me away. “Get out of here. If I see you near a bank in the future, you can be sure I won’t be so nice next time.”

I stared at him for a few more seconds, but his expression suggested that his patience was wearing thin and the invitation to escape wouldn’t last indefinitely.

So, stunned and unsure if what had happened was real, I flew out of the window. But I made sure to knock over two sets of shelves and a table on my way out.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Sebastian Hansen (she/her) is a non-binary mess of a person. She lives in the Midwest with her husband and herd of opinionated cats, where she spends most of her time playing video games, reading comic books, and writing about superheroes. She likes strawberries and is easily frightened by the Internet.

Website | Twitter

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Release Blitz: Voice by Sean Ian O’Meidhir and Connal Braginsky #PNR #LGBTQ #dragqueens @ninestarpress @GoIndiMarketing

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Title: Voice

Series: Crossing Nuwa, Book Three

Author: Sean Ian O’Meidhir, Connal Braginsky

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 12/21/2021

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 62500

Genre: Paranormal Romance, LGBTQIA+, pride, parade, bears, action/adventure, drag queens, vampires, shifters, magic, mind control, urban fiction, plus sized

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Description

After an unfortunate mishap, Robbie has to learn how to use his Command abilities. Just when he thinks that it’s safe to turn them off entirely, he is challenged in a way he never imagined and is faced with the decision to use his abilities or lose his beloved cousin for good. His growth puts a strain on his budding relationship with Theo who is already stretched thin with his own dilemmas. Will the couple grow from their individual struggles, or will this be a final dividing point?

This is the third book in the Crossing Nüwa series and a continuation of Robbie and Theo’s relationship growth and struggles.

Excerpt

Voice
Sean Ian O’Meidhir and Connal Braginsky © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
Robbie

“Oh shit!” I cursed, spitting out the flavor of another man’s unwanted lips on mine and chafing my lips as I fervently wiped my mouth on my sleeve.

With small bony hands, he grabbed both of my arms. “Robbie,” Brent said. His high-pitched nasally voice, which had always annoyed me a little, now grated on every nerve. “You know you want me as much as I want you. Stop playing hard to get.”

I couldn’t believe this was happening. At school! I glanced around the empty college hallway for anyone to potentially save me, but classes were in session. I felt more than saw Brent lunge in for another kiss, and my lua training kicked in. Thrusting into his solar plexus with one palm, I snatched his wrist and wrenched. As he fell, I twisted him, catching his chin in my left hand, and by stretching him out I was able to face him away from me.

“Oooo,” Brent cooed, kneeling from the ground. “You like it rough. Robbie, I never knew.”

Disgusted, I dropped him and tripped back into the wall. “I thought we were friends,” I managed pathetically. Confusion swirled around me. We were supposed to be on the way to class. We were supposed to be working on a project for class. We were supposed to be studying for finals. We were supposed to be doing anything but what he had just done. Brent had been my closest friend since I started college. While he had asked me out that first week, he backed off when I told him I had a boyfriend.

Brent pulled his small frame up, standing and looking up at me with a twisted smile that made me cringe. “You know we’re more than that. I don’t know what you see in that fat dude you call a boyfriend. You’re so much hotter than that. Deserve someone like me. Come on; let’s cut biology and get out of here? They know we’re working on that project anyway.”

I caught him as he moved in again. The scent of his sauerkraut-covered hot dog lunch wafted from his breath, making me shudder in revulsion. “Just stop!” I shouted, not caring if someone overheard, and pushed him back with all my strength.

He hit the other wall looking stunned and then slumped to the ground.

“Oh,” I exhaled. Nüwa are stronger than humans. What if I…?

Bending down, I gingerly pushed him, almost expecting a horror film scene of him grappling me down. He just rolled over, looking peacefully asleep.

Scrambling, I stumbled away. And then ran.

Chapter Two
Compartmentalize, compartmentalize, compartmentalize, I chanted to myself. Brent was okay. I had just knocked him out. Someone would come along and find him passed out in the hall. Or he’d wake up and…and what? Call me? I glanced apprehensively at the phone mounted to the overly cheerful artichoke-shaped charging station in our kitchen.

I had thrown myself into cooking the moment I got home. Ms. Gomez, our live-in housekeeper and cook, kindly let me use the kitchen while she took off to the store. The new pasta maker I got online dominated my attention until it started slipping back to Brent. Maggie’s voice rung out in my mind, reminding me to compartmentalize—to put this experience in another box in my mind. And shut it. Lock it. Learning to tuck away the memories from childhood that left me feeling vulnerable had kept me sane this past year.

The memory of holding my mother’s lifeless body after she had sacrificed herself to save me came unbidden to my mind, and once again, I was awash with that guilt. The deep cleansing breath helped to center me, and I imagined settling the top on that box again.

As I thought more about it, it seemed like I was compartmentalizing other things too. The time we spent in San Diego lived in one box and my time spent in the oasis of my home with Theo in yet another. I found that I was a different person in each context. With Theo I was most at ease. He knew me better than anyone, even Maggie, though I had spared him the sordid details about my childhood. There was never any guesswork with Theo. He loved me unconditionally and was always there for me. I could be myself with Maggie and Abi, too, but felt a wall with them. I know it’s because they’re women and Nüwa, and Mother and my aunt instilled in me a fear of both and an internal need to be deferential. So, I knew what the wall was; I just didn’t see a way of getting past it. And part of me didn’t want to. They were both amazing, and loving, and kind. And nothing at all like Mother and my aunt. So, they deserved my respect and deference.

And college was another box. I groaned loudly, channeling my fury into my whisk, hitting the sides of the bowl in a frenzy. The cream sauce I was making from scratch for the Italian sausage lasagna spun around in a vortex inside the bowl. How could I go back if Brent was there? The idea of confronting him… But the idea of not going back to college left me with a sense of dread.

“Hey ya, sugar.”

I let out a yelp and spun around to see Theo casually leaning on the counter. How long had he been there?

“What’s up?” His question had a cautious tone.

“Cooking,” I muttered, turning my back to him and focusing on pouring the sauce into the pan that I had already layered with pasta, meat, and cheese. Heat stained my cheeks with just the thought of telling Theo about the kiss.

The weight of his stare on my back was a tangible thing, and I was relieved when his phone sounded. He let it ring longer than he normally would, but then answered and left. Relief slumped my shoulders. I would put this whole thing in a box. The Brent box. It belonged on a shelf with all the other bad memories and mistakes. Tonight, I was going to have dinner with my family: Kat and Theo. But first, I would need to meditate and get calm. All this rumination was getting me absolutely nowhere.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Connal Braginsky is a software engineer who lives in San Diego, California. Diagnosed with high functioning autism, Connal sometimes struggles in social situations, but has an inner world that is always incredibly rich. With an insatiable thirst for knowledge about many esoteric things, Connal brings a lot of personal philosophies and interests to writing.

Sean Ian O’Meidhir is a psychologist who lives in San Francisco, California. Sean is a hedonist who believes in living for today, living every day to the fullest, and enjoying as much as possible. They have been gaming since adolescence and have written about and played hundreds of lives, revelling in the chance to take on new personalities, dramas, even disorders.

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RElease Blitz: How Not to Date a Dragon by Stephanie Burke #LGBTQ #paranormalromance #darkfantasy @FlashyCat @GoIndiMarketing

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Title: How Not to Date a Dragon

Series: How Not To #12

Author: Stephanie Burke

Publisher: Changeling Press

Release Date: December 17, 2021

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 134

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Bisexual, Multisexual & Pansexual, Elves Dragons & Magical Creatures, Paranormal Romance, Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Magic

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Synopsis

Ulvissar, the solitary black omega dragon, is tired of virgin sacrifices. Who even likes humans that way?

However this sacrifice, Alita, is different. She’s brave, bold, and brash. So he decides he’ll keep her. After a few hundred years and countless women in his horde, he’s ready to finally accept the attentions of the Flame dragon, the long-suffering Nithe.

But when the addition of the latest sacrifice brings an army to his doorstep, how is he to keep his hard-won peace, deal with his heat and his hungry mate, and help asexual Alita romance the troublesome princess running from her joke of a prince, all while defending them all from the armies coming to get his woman back?

And you thought dating was hard.

Excerpt

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Stephanie Burke

“Oh Noble Dragon,” the rather beautiful and totally virginal maiden whimpered, her hands bound above her body, her head hanging low. “Dost thou consent to sup upon mine supple and untouched flesh as a sacrifice to save mine humble village?” Her fear was obvious in the trembling of her body, exposed to the elements and the cold spring night. There were tears, he could hear them in her voice, in the way it trembled and the ritual words wavered. The air of hopelessness and despair that surrounded her was a palatable thing.

And the mighty dragon hovered above her, his fierce red eyes and black shadowy scales that made him appear to have parted from the night sky itself… before he let out an annoyed snort and rolled his eyes at his victim.

“Really, when are they going to stop this shit?” he asked, startling a gasp from the bound sacrifice as her head jerked up, her amazed eyes widening as she stared at the monster who was supposed to consume her flesh, grind her bones into meal, and ignore her humble village for another year.

“Oh, Noble One? Uh… excuse me?”

“When are your people,” the great one spat out, “going to catch a clue and leave me the fuck out of their medieval fantasies? How much torture porn can one village aspire to? I mean, do they draw lots for this shit? Do you all volunteer? Were you an orphan that no one wanted to take care of? What gives?”

“Uh… Dragon?”

But the great and noble dragon was pissed, really wanted to vent, and nothing was going to stop him from having his say.

“Are all humans so stupid?” he demanded as he began to pace, all twenty-five-foot-tall scaly body and bad attitude. “I send a girl back and they kill her for not” — he actually made air quotes with two of his four large taloned fingers –”being a good sacrifice. I go and try to talk to them about this shit and they scream and run like I was burning the place down and they send me even more virginal girls. I don’t take the first sacrifice and they murder the poor child and leave another sitting in her blood and brains. Do you know how long it takes to get the smell of blood out of your nose? No? I bet you don’t because they would never kill a woman on your behalf. That is a sacrificial action saved just for me.”

His large spaded tail whipped back and forth as he grumbled, staring down at the village from the so-called Dragon Stones that the villagers set up centuries before when they moved into his territory and decided to stay. Of course, when moving into dragon lands you had to have a proper sacrifice. That was the way of it, but it was what they chose to send as a sacrifice that was really pissing him off.

“All I wanted was some seeds to plant new crops and that somehow translated into virgin. How much of an idiot do you have to be to make that incredibly wrong leap of logic? I wanted crops and I got virgins. I would have accepted some livestock instead — cows only last for so long and I really like cheese. But no, the village assholes in all their great glory send me virgin females. I don’t want virgin females. I want the peace of mind knowing that not another girl will be murdered on my behalf.”

“Uh… Dragon?”

“I want some fucking peace!” he roared, the sound echoing through the valley below where the town sat protected from the dangers of the outside world. He could see the lights flicker as terrified townsfolk hid themselves, probably pissing themselves because they thought the sacrifice was unworthy.

“Hey, Dragon?” the sacrifice called, gaining his attention as he stopped pacing a rut into the ground and stared down at her.

“What?”

“If you aren’t going to eat me, perhaps you could let me go? My arms have gone to sleep and I really have to pee.”

He glared down at her and she stared back, the fear that had earlier surrounded her dissipating, almost as if it didn’t exist in the first place. That was… new. He arched an eyebrow and she arched one back.

“I really have to go,” she spoke again, staring right into his red eyes. “And if you think the smell of blood is bad, I have to tell you the smell of urine trumps that every time. I know. I’m a farmer’s daughter. So if you would…” she jerked her head toward the bindings that held her arms aloft. “I can just slip behind those rocks over there and do my business and be right back for the rest of your tirade. I don’t think I can hold it for much longer. I made sure to drink lots before they dragged me up here. If you were going to eat me, I was going to give you a memorable meal surprise. But since you don’t seem intent on consuming my supple virgin flesh…”

Purchase

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

Meet the Author

Stephanie is a USA Today Best Selling, multi published, multi award-winning author, Master Costumer, handicapped, wife and mother of two.

From sex-shifting, shape-shifting dragons to undersea worlds, sexually confused elemental Fey and homo-erotic mysteries, all the way to pastel-challenged urban sprites, Stephanie has done it all, and hopes to do more.

Stephanie is an orator on her favorite subjects of writing and world-building, a sometime teacher when you feed her enough tea and donuts, an anime nut, a costumer, and a frequent guest of various sci-fi and writing cons where she can be found leading panel discussions or researching varied legends and theories to improve her writing skills.

Stephanie is known for her love of the outrageous, strong female characters, believable worlds, male characters filled with depth, and multi-cultural stories that make the reader sit up and take notice.

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New Release: The Journeyman’s Trial by Lisabet Sarai #Steampunk  #Menage #Lesbian #Bisexual #Dominance #Submission @lisabetsarai

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New Release!

The Journeyman’s Trial

The Toymakers Guild Book 2

By Lisabet Sarai

Steampunk Erotica, MF, MM, FF, MFM, FMF, etcetera…

92,000 words, 321 pages

Smashwords and Amazon KDP

ISBN (Smashwords): 9780463505649

ASIN: ‎ B09MQV4Y86

If she builds it, will they come?

Technically brilliant and thoroughly wanton, Gillian Smith has found her  vocation: designing innovative erotic devices for the Toymakers Guild. Lust is a lubricant to creativity at Randerley Hall. But what happens when two Toymakers fall in love?

The Guild’s tribe of talented, uninhibited engineers has embraced Gillian as one of their own. Edward Thorne, the perverse genius who founded the Guild, undertakes to train her in the skills she’ll need as a journeyman, from practical mind-reading to transcendental orgasms.

As Gillian labours to impress the charismatic Master, her enigmatic fellow journeyman Rafe both entices and frustrates her. Their passion seems to go beyond mere appetite, but in Randerley’s promiscuous and permissive environment, does love make any sense?

When the Toymakers receive a commission to equip London’s most exclusive brothel with the latest sexual technology, Gillian has the chance to demonstrate her formidable abilities as well as to help Rafe exorcise the demons of his past. She doesn’t realize she’ll be forced to choose between Rafe and her future in the Guild.

If you like intelligent, lusty women and kinky steam punk sex toys, pick up a copy of The Journeyman’s Trial.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/618-the-journeymans-trial-the-toymakers-guild-book-2/

Amazon  US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09MQV4Y86

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B09MQV4Y86

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1118032

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-journeymans-trial-lisabet-sarai/1140567579?ean=2940165096259

Kobo –  https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-journeyman-s-trial-the-toymakers-guild-book-2

Add on Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/59740783-the-journeyman-s-trial

PG Excerpt

At the foot of the stairs, she almost collided with a lean, dark figure. If he hadn’t grabbed her by both shoulders, they both might have tumbled to the floor.

“Why, hello, Jill!” A cocky smile lit the young man’s aquiline features. “I haven’t seen much of you lately.” He held on to her for considerably longer than was necessary to stabilise them. When he let go, she continued to feel his hands, heating her skin through the fabric of her garment.

“Good afternoon, Rafe.” She brushed some imaginary dust off her somewhat wrinkled lab coat. It was true that she’d barely spoken two words to her fellow journeyman since he’d rescued her on the moors two weeks before. Half the time he hadn’t even been at the dinner table. She’d wondered if he was travelling again. “I’ve been occupied with learning my new duties. The Master has been training me.”

His eyebrows arched. “Training, hmm? I’d like to know more about just what that entails!” He ran his fingers through his unkempt black locks. “I never got any sort of training from the Master. Of course, he hasn’t been around much. If I recall, he left Randerley only a few weeks after I joined the Guild.”

“When was that?” She wasn’t sure how she felt about the brash, forward young man who’d stolen a kiss within half an hour of her meeting him. Well, perhaps stolen wasn’t exactly the right term, but still, he seemed to have quite familiar manners.

“Two years ago last Christmas. Seems like a lifetime.”

“And before the Guild?”

His expression darkened. “I don’t really want to talk about that. Anyway, I’ve got an appointment with the Master in two minutes.”

Gillian stepped back to give him free access to the stairs. “You mustn’t keep him waiting, then.”

“But I’m really delighted to run into you.” He chuckled at his own jest. “Care to go riding with me tomorrow afternoon?”

“I’ve got quite a lot of work—”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday. Even that slave driver Featherstone takes Saturday afternoon off! Come on, Jill. Say yes!” His hand was back on her shoulder, casual, warm, maddening.

“Well… I grew up in the city, so I’m not much of a horsewoman.” She had to admit to being curious about Rafe. With his loose-limbed grace and easy smile, he was definitely attractive. Shouldn’t she be focused on her training, though?

“We’ll put you on Dorothea. She’s a sweet, biddable mare who won’t give you any trouble. And Samson likes her.”

“I don’t know…”

“I’ve got to go!” He squeezed her shoulder briefly and ran his fingers through her curls, then bounded up the stairs. “Meet you at the stables tomorrow at three,” he called out as he climbed out of sight.

“But…” There was no one to listen to Gillian’s excuses. In any case, why should she object? Rafe was a fellow member of the Guild. It was only fitting they should get to know one another – perhaps intimately.

Special deal! Get The Pornographer’s Apprentice, The Toymakers Guild Book 1, for only 99 cents during the tour!  Buy links here:

https://www.lisabetsarai.com/pornographersapprenticebook.html

Rave Reviews for The Toymakers Guild Book 1

There are many more plot points, but I don’t want to spoil your enjoyment of this book. It has varied and steamy sex scenes that will take your breath away, a plucky heroine who doesn’t always come out on top (ahem), but who always prevails in her quest to be accepted as a Toymaker.  ~ Fiona McGier, Goodreads

With thoughtfully written characters, hot sex scenes, and a well-paced and interesting plot, the Toymaker’s Apprentice leaves you asking only one question….when is the next book in the series coming out? ~ The Phantom Tollbooth, Amazon

[A] fast paced, hilarious, and thoroughly entertaining story as Gillian gets intimate with the staff and technology, only to find that there is a plot against the Guild that she takes on to save the day. I can’t wait to read what happens in the next book! ~ Arthur Royo, Amazon

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, Pinterest, BookBub and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

A Spoonful of Sugar by AE Lister & Mistletoe Menage by Lily Harlem #eroticromance #Christmas #LGBTQ #multiplepartners @pridepublishing @firstforromance

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A Spoonful of Sugar by AE Lister
Mistletoe Menage by Lily Harlem

General Release Date: 7th December2021

Genres:

BONDAGE AND BDSM (A Spoonful of Sugar)
CHRISTMAS
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS

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A Spoonful of Sugar
Mistletoe Menage

Book Description

A Spoonful of Sugar


A kinky interlude over the holidays brings three men closer as their unconventional relationship evolves from casual to serious.

Scott Vernier met Jericho Griffin and Pascal Olejatz at a Halloween party in October and soon became casually involved with the kinky, committed pair.

Over the course of the holidays, the men struggle to find time together outside their busy schedules and finally make space for each other over Christmas week. Scott finds himself craving more of a committed relationship with these wonderful men and tiptoes around the issue to find out if Jericho and Pascal feel the same.

Scott’s dreams of expertly delivered medical play already a vivid reality, the men introduce him to more deliciously subversive scenes including teacher-student role play and invite him to dabble with imaginary non-consent.

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of enema play and imaginary non-consent.

Mistletoe Menage

The winter days might be frosty, but a new guy in town is sure to heat up Father Nicholas and Dr. Zach!

Reverend Nicholas Simmons has traveled a bumpy road before landing in the small town of Mindle with his doctor husband. So, when a new, very sexy, very enticing young man shows interest in them both, he’s reluctant to rock the boat.

Zach, however, can’t keep the flashes of desire from his eyes. He’d never cheat, of course not, but visions of hot threesomes dance in his mind. Will Nicholas ever agree? If so, what would it be like? How hard would they all come?

Brandon isn’t looking forward to his first Christmas in Mindle. He’s alone. Exhausted. Friendless. That is, until he meets the Reverend and Zach. From that first moment he’s equal parts fascinated and turned on by them. Sure, they’re older than he is, but that just heightens his lust and increases his need to get hot, sweaty and naked with them.

Will their romance have a backdrop of tinsel and holly? Can three strong, passionate men truly connect with absolute honesty? And on Christmas night, will they each get the ultimate present—one another—under the tree?

Purchase one or both at First For Romance

About the Authors

AE Lister

AE Lister/Elizabeth Lister is a Canadian non-binary author with a vivid imagination and a head full of unique and interesting characters. They have published 10 books, one of which received an Honorable Mention from the National Leather Association – International for excellence in SM/Leather/Fetish writing.

“Sensual and visceral BDSM.” – Amazon.ca

Find out more about AE Lister at their website, and follow them on Instagram and Facebook. You can join their Facebook group and find out more at their BDSM blog.

Lily Harlem

Award-winning, bestselling author Lily Harlem lives in the UK and is a complete floozy when it comes to genres and pairings, writing from male/female contemporary to gay paranormal and everything in between.

One thing you can be sure of when you pick up a Lily book is heat will rise from the pages and you’ll be reading late into the night! Enjoy!

Giveaway

Enter for the chance to win a $50.00 First for Romance Gift Card!

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Notice: This competition ends on 4th January 2021 at 12am EST. Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.

Now in Paperback: Krampus Bah Humbug by Crymsyn Hart #darkfantasy #holidayromance #LGBTQ @crymsynhart

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Elves running amok in Christmas Town… cannibal gingerbread men… Krampus is in for the ride of his life!

Claiming Cupid: Krampus never thought his heart could be captured — until he met Cupid.

Krampus Does Dallas: Riding a bull has never been more stimulating!

Forging Krampus: Samhain is determined to rock Krampus’s world, but something dark is eating away at Samhain’s realm.

Krampus to the Rescue: Only Krampus can make Santa say ho-ho-ho!

Krampus Bah Humbug: Krampus has to get with the holiday attitude or lose all he holds dear. Bah, Humbug!

Y’all Tied Up: Clive and Aniston must escape before Krampus can feed them to the cannibal gingerbread men!

Publisher’s Note: Krampus Bah Humbug contains the previously released novellas Claiming Cupid, Krampus Does Dallas, Forging Krampus, Krampus to the Rescue, Krampus Bah Humbug, and Y’all Tied Up. The Krampus Box Set presents these stories in chronological order, rather than the original release order.

Available at Amazon

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2021 Crymsyn Hart
Excerpt from Krampus Does Dallas

“Have a good evening.” Krampus moved through the crowd that had gathered around them. He entered the town. The shops had closed up for the day. The road was dry and in need of rain. The only rowdy place was the tavern. He slid inside. Few people noticed as he walked in, but they didn’t say anything when he sat down in a corner booth. He sat back and watched the place fill with the laborers of the town. A waitress came by and set a mug down on his table.

“You sit at a table, you gotta order food.”

“Fine. Bring me whatever’s on the menu.”

The waitress came back with some kind of stew and bread. He dipped the bread into the broth and took a taste of it. He coughed at the seasoning. Besides having an overabundance of pepper, it was edible. His stomach growled. He thought about his interaction with the owner of the rodeo. He’d bought a bull. Why the hell did I buy the bull? I don’t need it. Now I’m stuck with the beast. I’m sure it’s had a taxing life.

He glanced up from his meal when the noise level dropped. A group from the rodeo entered the tavern. One of the thugs who had stopped him approached the bartender. The group followed behind him.

“A round of ale for the lot.”

The bartender crossed his arms over his chest. The corner of his mouth twitched. “Your kind ain’t wanted here. Best if you get out before I have someone throw you out.”

“We have a right to be here just as anyone else.” The thug sat at the bar. The rest moved into a table that emptied out since they had come in. The rodeo participants all looked as though they had a difficult life. All were tanned and wrinkled from years in the sun and hard work. Krampus didn’t envy them. The tension in the bar grew. He sat back. The bartender and the other patrons surrounded them.

A cloaked figure slipped past them and hovered by Krampus’s table.

“Why don’t you sit here? It looks like everywhere else is taken.” Krampus found himself saying.

The man looked at him. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t. Sit or don’t sit.”

Krampus pushed the plate aside and laid a couple of silver coins on the table. They would more than cover the cost of his meal and the ale. He didn’t want the waitress to hassle him any longer. The man glanced at the coins and the unfinished bowl of stew. He sat down and reached for the stew. Then the stranger pulled his hand back.

“You going to eat that?”

“Have at it.”

The stranger’s hands were dark, almost like polished black marble. His arms were decorated with long-healed-over scars. The man took the bowl and brought it in close to him, protecting it. When he ate, the hood of his cloak fell away, revealing a bald head, a strong jaw and a flat nose. His eyes were gold when he looked up at Krampus. Something in that gaze stirred Krampus’s desire.

“What?” the man asked around a mouthful of bread.

“Nothing. I just noticed you were hungry. I could make it worth your while if you wanted to come back to the house with me.”

“So you can fuck me? I’m not a whore. I see how you’re looking at me.”

Krampus held back a smile. “No. I wasn’t considering sex. I just meant I have better food than what you have there. Plus, you can sleep in a bed. It looks like you might need it. No strings attached.”

The other man eyed him. “I thought you said you didn’t care.”

“It’s obvious your companions don’t care about you or you would’ve come in with them. And you wouldn’t have been hiding your appearance. I’m surprised you’re still with them. Of course, I could be way off on my observations. Come or not, but I’m leaving.” Krampus got up from the booth and left the tavern. After he rejoined the darkness, the tavern door slammed shut.

“Where are we going?”

“Follow me.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Crymsyn Hart is a National Bestselling author of over eighty paranormal romance and horror novels. Her experiences as a psychic and ghostly encounters have given her a lot of material to use in her books. Vampires, grim reapers, shifters, and other paranormal creatures tend to end up in her books no matter how hard she tries to keep them away.

She currently resides in Charlotte, NC with her hubby and her three dogs. If she’s not writing, she’s curled up with the dogs watching a good horror movie or off with friends.

To find out more about Crymsyn, check out her website on: www.crymsynhart.com

COVER REVEAL: Madmen of Moscow #CoverReveal #DarkRomance #LGBTQ @greyspromo @KristiWebster  @kerdukey

Posted on by

K Webster and Ker Dukey have revealed
the cover for Madmen of Moscow!

Releasing December 14, 2021


From international bestselling authors Ker Dukey and K Webster comes a dark and twisted MMF mafia romance standalone called Madmen of Moscow!

The Madmen of Moscow.
We have a reputation for a reason.
Those who try to take from us rarely live to tell the tale.
Ruthless. Unforgiving. Killers.

People come from all over to drink in our clubs. Fight in our arenas. F*ck in our company.
We built an empire on our status all the way to the top of the f*cking world.
Inseparable brothers.
Rich. Powerful. Feared.

We only ever needed each other… until we found her.

We gave her everything we had, everything we were, and she took it and ran.
She thought she could hide from us forever.
But you can’t hide from The Madmen when we’ve spent our entire lives perfecting the hunt.

Pre-order your copy today!  
Amazon: http://mybook.to/madmenom
Apple Books: https://apple.co/2XsWCW6
Nook: https://bit.ly/3lYBZun
Kobo: https://bit.ly/3C4yMz5

Goodreads: https://bit.ly/37iDtrn

Meet K Webster

K Webster is a USA Today Bestselling author. Her titles have claimed many bestseller tags in numerous categories, are translated in multiple languages, and have been adapted into audiobooks. She lives in “Tornado Alley” with her husband, two children, and her baby dog named Blue. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, drinking copious amounts of coffee, and researching aliens.
 
Connect with K Webster
Website | https://authorkwebster.com/
Goodreads | https://bit.ly/grkwebster
Amazon | https://amzn.to/32Il7OK
Facebook | https://www.facebook.com/authorkwebster/
 FB Group | https://www.facebook.com/groups/krazyforkwebstersbooks/
 Instagram | https://www.instagram.com/authorkwebster/
 Twitter | https://twitter.com/KristiWebster
Bookbub | https://www.bookbub.com/profile/k-webster
Newsletter | https://authorkwebster.com/newsletter/

Meet Ker Dukey

Ker Dukey is an International bestselling author.
Genres include:
Dark Romance, Psychological Thriller, New Adult Romance, Romantic Suspense, and Mafia Romance. Ker has over thirty titles published and has had multiple #1 bestseller banners and chart-topping titles with the rights sold to numerous countries, translated in multiple languages, and have been adapted into audiobooks

In addition to being an author, Ker is an annoying wife and a mother of three children + one dog (who thinks he’s human.) She has a passion for reading and binge-watching crime documentaries.

Find her on social media, where she loves interacting with her readers
 
Connect with Ker
Website | www.kerdukeyauthor.com
Goodreads | https://bit.ly/2Z9KFFn
Amazon | https://amzn.to/3psg9BP
Facebook | https://bit.ly/3jwzpdp
Facebook Group | https://bit.ly/3pszsLe
Instagram | https://bit.ly/3GfejtV
TikTok | www.tiktok.com/@authorkerdukey
Twitter | https://bit.ly/3m8aj6A
Bookbub | https://bit.ly/3GfhbHm
Newsletter | https://bit.ly/3GivpH8