New Release: Brightly Burning Bridges by Ivy Wild #BullyRomance #enemiestolovers @IvyWildAuthor @EJBookPromos

Title: Brightly Burning Bridges
Series: Kings of Capital Series (stand alone)
Author: Ivy Wild
Genre: Enemies to Lovers ~ Bully Romance ~ Second Chance
Release Date: April 2, 2021 
Cover Consultant: @ofsomanyfeels
Cover Model: Santiago Ferrari
Cover Photographer: Jarno Boom


⭐️5 burning brightly stars⭐️
An angst filled bully romance, a solid plot a well written story with wonderful perfectly imperfect characters.
~ vgreedythirstforforbidden
Gotta love a two for one in a romance book! This is a bully and a second chance romance all rolled into one!
~ Biggs_bookcase
Second chance bully love story with so much emotion and passion that will make you grab tissues while reading it ❤️❤️❤️ and I would highly recommend it with great ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
~ books_fiction_desire
Silas

He wasn’t my friend until he became my enemy.
His center is freezing cold,
and his edges burn me when I get too close.
He is everything I want and nothing I am.
They say not to burn bridges,
but he burned ours to the ground.
Skyler
She is the girl who wants to be seen,
but hates being noticed.
She was my friend, my tease, my confidant.
She is pure light against all my darkness.
The reason you burn down bridges,
is to build them up stronger.
Brightly Burning Bridges is a standalone romance and part of the Kings of Capital series.






Writer of all things untamed, romantic and free, Ivy Wild never planned on becoming a romance novelist. In fact, she hated romance as a kid and was quite proud of that fact. Basically, life is weird.

Married to her own alpha hero, she currently lives in various places of the world at various times thanks to his military career.

Her current side hustle is being a lawyer.





HOSTED BY:

Wrong by Shelby Morgen #agegap #firstresponders @shelbymorgen @changelingpress

Katie’s got her eye on tall, dark, and hunky, wrapped in black leather and jeans.

Problem. He’s so sinfully sexy, she can’t get a word out in his presence. Not to mention the fact that he looks like he’s barely legal, at best. She needs to get him out of her system.

Michael’s got other ideas. He’s set his sights on improving Katie’s theory of the Big Bang — in more ways than one.

Get it at Changeling Press

Preorder for April 9th at online booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Shelby Morgen


Go for it.

No, no, no. Not going to happen.

Come on, Katie. You can do this.

Absolutely not.

Oh my God. He looks even better without the jacket. Look at that body. And why do you think he’s holding the jacket there?

Katie tore her gaze away from the cowboy holding the jacket, firmly deciding not to speculate on what all that black leather might or might not be hiding. “Thank you. I hope you enjoy the book.”

Katie picked at the book cover, trying to contain her agitation. This was her third book signing in as many months, and the third time this cowboy had lined up for her autograph. That couldn’t be a coincidence. Could it?

Stop staring at his crotch.

She averted her eyes, knowing she was blushing furiously. She looked down at the book in her hands — her latest release, Cosmic Theory and The Big Bang — and forced herself to quit thumbing the edge of the flyleaf.

I’d like to show him a big bang.

Oh, that was just wrong. She worked hard at not giggling. Physicists did not giggle. Not at book signings. And not because a handsome stranger stood in her line. Especially not when that sinfully sexy leather clad stranger’d shown up twice before — for the same book — and she’d still not been able to get a single word out of her stupid mouth.

You can do this! Come on, Katie. He’s next up. Say something. Anything! Speak!

She looked up into the most gorgeous set of blue-green eyes she’d ever seen — where were his sunglasses? — and, once again, froze.

“Michael,” he supplied.

What? Why was he telling her his name? Oh, so she could sign the book. Flustered, she reached for her pen — why had she set it down? — and knocked into her water glass. “Shit!” Katie clapped a hand over her mouth.

“Whoops!” Michael grabbed the glass — and the pitcher — just in time.

Michael — she’d already known his name — she never forgot names — had the grace to laugh, just loud enough to cover her indiscretion. Hastily flipping the book open to the title page, she wrote For Michael — you’re a lifesaver! Dr. Catherine Vargen. “Thank you,” she managed out loud.

There. She’d done it. She’d actually spoken to him. On some crazy inspiration, she pulled out one of her promo cards. “I’m giving a lecture at the planetarium tonight,” she offered.

“What are you doing afterward?”

She blinked, twice, looking, she knew, like an insane owl. “Excuse me?”

“Q & A? Group discussion?”

“Oh.” Yes, of course that’s what he’d meant. Idiot. “Yes, I’ll be fielding questions after the lecture.”

“Great. I’ll be there.”

“Thank you!” she repeated lamely as he headed for the register.

Giving her a great view of tight jeans over a really fine looking ass.

Idiot, idiot, idiot. Quit looking! Jail bait. You’ll get yourself arrested!

He couldn’t be that young, could he? No. College student. Had to be at least twenty-one or twenty-two, maybe. Still. Twenty years her junior. Wrong. Just plain wrong.

Yeah, well, all she’d done so far was look. Couldn’t arrest her for that. Not while he had his clothes on, anyway.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Shelby Morgen loves writing offbeat tales that defy as many rules as possible.

She likes chocolate with her peanut butter, suspense with her romance, and kink with her sex, and she’s always had a hard time keeping science fiction, fantasy and paranormal from mixing with her kink.

Shelby shares her belief in electronic publishing with her longtime friend and partner, Bill, her husband of nearly four decades.

New Release: Demon Hunter by Treva Harte #DarkFantasy #RomanticSuspense @HarteTreva @changelingpress

Dorothea, the widowed Duchess of Berea, is still in mourning when two male visitors come calling — the first to her remote Irish estate since her husband died. One is her cousin, who draws her back into the dangerous world of demon hunting that is her family tradition.

The second, the mysterious Brown, promises to help her when her own family is unable to. Neither Dorothea nor Brown expects the sudden hot attraction they feel for one another. Dorothea, used to being the protector, discovers how dangerously appealing it is to have someone protect her. But is Brown someone she can trust when the demons start hunting the demon hunter?

Get it at Changeling Press

Preorder for March 26th at online booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Treva Harte

Dorothea, the Duchess of Berea, had two visitors in her drawing room after having none for almost eleven months of mourning. And one was a stranger.

He looked young (although he could be older than she was) and slight and quite ordinary. He was dressed nicely enough — but he still wasn’t anyone she’d ever seen before, and she knew many people. A wealthy tradesman, perhaps? Or had her cousin outfitted him? Yet he was her cousin’s companion, and her cousin Alexander was particular. Alexander knew she was still in seclusion. One might see family at this time, but why this person?

“Wh –” Before she could get either why or who out of her mouth, Alexander stepped forward.

Maitresse.” He bowed, very formally, in front of her but didn’t kiss her hand. Instead, he almost grasped her outstretched hand to touch it to his forehead. Her breath hissed in. She knew what that particular greeting meant.

“I prefer ‘Your Grace’ if we are to be that polite to each other, Cousin Alexander.” The half-smile she’d had on her face disappeared. “No one calls me by that other title here.”

“No one else needs to.” Alexander straightened and looked her in the eyes. “Cousin Thea.”

“And those few who call me by my first name call me Dorothea. I’m not four years old any longer.” The diamond ring on her finger winked in the sunlight as she snatched away the hand she had put forward, when she had been expecting an ordinary greeting.

“But I’m here to remind you of your family and your… upbringing. You seem to have forgotten it here.” He glanced at the large hall, decorated with long gilt mirrors, carpeted floors, and some portraits of long dead ducal ancestors. “In your late husband’s home.”

“I didn’t need to remember any of my past. His Grace is — was — very powerful. Very wealthy. As his widow, I still can choose how I want to live. And here I am.” Once she would have screamed and stamped her feet at Alex’s return and what he was telling her. But her late husband had shown her better ways to impose her will. Oh, Daniel. She missed him so.

Lately she’d grown almost afraid of the emptiness inside her. She didn’t mourn very much any more. She didn’t look forward to anything. There was nothing inside. It was safest that way, if a little monotonous. This intrusion into her solitude was making her curious, however. She could feel a mild stir of emotion. How long had it been since she felt that?

“It’s a beautiful manor,” Alexander continued, his tone still mildly courteous, telling her nothing. “It’s hard to believe such a place exists on this benighted island.”

“It’s not that uncivilized here,” Dorothea told him. “Necessarily. Money always smoothes the path, doesn’t it? Even when one is English in Ireland.”

“Does it?” Her cousin shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”

She’d forgotten, actually forgotten, how her family always just barely managed to keep up appearances. They’d had decades of living and acting like the titled family they were and desperately trying to forget the debts and the mortgages piling up around them.

“I would have thought my marriage was enough to pay off a good many problems.” Dorothea didn’t look at him. “Wasn’t that why I was sold off before I even had a Season?”

“It’s been over ten years. We heard you were happy with your husband.”

“Yes. And have you forgotten and forgiven my marriage?” She didn’t turn her head. What difference would his answer make? But they had thought they might marry, years and years ago.

“No.”

Neither have I, Alex. Not entirely. Not ever. Dorothea stared out the window at the columns gracing the outside and rolling lawn beyond it. The flicker of an old rage simmered inside briefly.

“But that’s not why I’m here.” She heard Alexander’s steps behind her, his body almost close enough to feel his warmth. She didn’t want him to touch her. But he didn’t force her to turn even as she braced herself. “This visit is about our family business, Maitresse. And only you can manage it now.”

“Oh, dear God in heaven, no,” Dorothea said. “I was happy to leave that behind.”

It had been so easy to be the young wife of the old duke. To flirt and spend money and mingle among the gentry of Dublin and the nobility of London whenever she or her husband chose. To forget all the fear and danger of the past, along with the debts her family owed. His Grace had seen to it that she was protected from any relatives making monetary requests. Protected from anything she didn’t want to do.

Alexander let out a bark of laughter. “God and heaven has little to do with it. And you can never leave what you need to do. We both know that. You’re the maitresse and the only one we have left in our line.”

“But demon hunting is such a nasty business, Alexander.” Dorothea, Duchess of Berea, knew her voice was mocking and icy. Entirely ducal. She faced him. “Her Grace has no need to do it any longer.”

Her cousin looked unmoved. “If Her Grace refuses, we know the demons may come hunting for her instead. They also know you’re alone.”

“Actually I’m not — or won’t be soon,” she replied. “My husband’s natural son will be visiting me to help settle some estate matters.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Treva Harte has always been an overachiever. She also collects things. First it was degrees. First a B.A. in English, then she decided to go back for a Master’s degree. Not content with that, she added a J.D. Since then she’s added a husband, also an attorney, and two children to her collection. She’s continuing her ways as an overachiever, writing her wonderfully offbeat tales of passion and possibilities — in her spare time.

Visit her website at www.trevaharte.com.

Release Blitz: Give Way by Valentine Wheeler #LGBTQ #ContemporaryRomance @ghostalservice @GoIndiMarketing @ninestarpress

Title: Give Way

Author: Valentine Wheeler

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 01/04/2021

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 31400

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, MM romance, men over 40, second chances, sexual discovery, interracial romance, retiree, mail carrier

Add to Goodreads

Description

Kevin McNamara’s life after retirement is…fine. He has friends, a few consulting gigs, and an ex-wife he’s finally on good terms with. But when he meets an intriguing stranger–a rarity in close-knit Swanley, Massachusetts–in his apartment lobby, he can’t stop thinking about him or about the unexpected attraction that knocked him flat.

Awais Siddiqui never thought he’d want to come back to his childhood hometown, but when his grandmother falls ill, he’s the only one who can move back to help. Awais figures he’ll be back in a big city soon enough–but then a silver fox on his route catches his eye.

It’s never too late to accept a second chance at love.

Excerpt

Give Way
Valentine Wheeler © 2020
All Rights Reserved

Kevin McNamara was not having a good day.

As he trudged up the street toward his block, his building loomed ahead, five stories of forbidding concrete. His kids kept telling him he had to find a nicer apartment–he’d only meant for this one to be a stopping place after the divorce, but here he was fifteen years later, solidly into his retirement, still crammed into his tiny two-bedroom. It was fine. He didn’t have to mow a lawn, and most of the other residents were older people or divorced dads, so he fit right in. A few kids visited their fathers on weekends and livened things up, and it was close enough to downtown that he could walk to get whatever he needed. On less soggy, snowy days, a stroll home was appealing, but not after a four hour transit meeting in Boston and with gray slush soaking into his loafers.

As he pulled his keys from his pocket in the vestibule, ready to open the door to the lobby, tires crunched on the asphalt outside and he turned to see a mail truck pulling up. He pushed open the vestibule door and got ready to greet Doris–she’d been his mail lady for ten years, so she deserved a smile even if Kevin’s toes were numb. But instead of his compact, South Asian mail lady, he was surprised to see a man in a postal uniform standing on the sidewalk, tall, dark, and–well, attractive. He was staring at the front of the building, glancing down at the mail in his hands and back up again.

“Hi,” said the man. “This is 210 Washakum Avenue, right?”

Kevin nodded. “Yes, the two fell off the sign last week and nobody’s been by to fix it.” He wasn’t sure why he’d felt the need to explain and wished he hadn’t.

The man grinned, showing very white, very even teeth. They looked even brighter against his short beard and light brown skin, which even in December was a few shades warmer than Kevin’s ever got. “Great. I’ve got a couple packages here, and I really didn’t want to leave them out in all this wet.”

“Yeah,” said Kevin. “Um.” He glanced behind him at the door to his building’s lobby, feeling unaccountably flustered. “Doris usually leaves them inside. Is she not in today?”

The man nodded. “She took the day off, so I’m helping out. I can’t believe they approved the time. December’s usually a no-go for leave, you know? Busiest season for Santas like me and Doris.”

“I bet.” Kevin pushed the door open. “Here, I won’t let the door lock you out.”

“Oh, I’m sure Doris left me a key somewhere,” said the man. “Don’t want to hold you up. I’m helping deliver packages for my overtime, and I’m still learning the town.” He paused. “I’m Awais, by the way.”

“Kevin,” said Kevin. “And it’s fine. I’m happy to hold the door. I’m in no rush.”

“McNamara? Kevin McNamara, is that right?” asked Awais.

“How did you guess?”

Awais grinned again, this time showing a dimple in one cheek, barely visible under his close-trimmed beard. “You’ve got a package, man.”

Kevin swallowed as Awais gathered a tub of packages in his arms and brushed past him into the lobby. The door wasn’t wide and neither was the lobby. He set the tub on the floor and knelt beside it. His slacks hugged his thighs: they seemed tighter than the usual postal cut as he bent over. And was the foyer suddenly warm?

“Let’s see.” Awais dug in the tub, setting a few packages aside. Kevin stood awkwardly, still holding the door. Dropping it would be rude, and it would trap them together in the small space, but he’d been holding it open for what felt like a long time. “Okay. Here we go!” He pulled out a large manila envelope, stacked the rest of the packages back in the tub, and rose to his feet gracefully. He was slender, Kevin noticed, but his shoulders were broad enough that the small space was awkward with both of their nearly six foot frames crowding it. “Here,” said Awais, holding it out.

Kevin took it. His fingers brushed Awais’s, shockingly warm against his own chilled ones. “Thanks,” he said, putting a bit of his usual charm in his smile. He knew the effect it had on people, and maybe it would counteract the incredibly weird impression this guy was getting of him.

Awais smiled back. “No problem. Gift for the wife?”

Kevin blinked. “Um, no,” he said, flummoxed. “I’m single.” Divorced, he’d meant to say. But it was too late to correct himself without drawing attention to it.

Awais’s eyes widened for the briefest moment, then his smile stretched even further. He winked. “Well, the ladies are missing out then.” He slung his satchel back over his shoulder, brushing past Kevin again where he was standing, still holding the door like a chump. He smelled like snow and woods and a little bit of sweat. Kevin decided to pretend he hadn’t just smelled the guy. He couldn’t help it in the hot, steamy foyer.

Through the glass, Awais climbed back in his truck, slid the door closed, waved, and pulled away.

Kevin looked down at the envelope. He didn’t even remember what he’d ordered. He took a step backward and winced at the squelch. He’d completely forgotten about his soaked shoes.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Valentine is a latecomer to writing, though she’s always been a passionate reader. Through fanfiction she found her way to an incredible community of writers who’ve taught her to love making stories.

When she isn’t writing, she’s making bad puns, yelling about television, or playing with her small child.

Her life’s ambition is to eat the cuisine of every single country. Follow Valentine on Twitter

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Dealing with David by Katriena Knights #contemporaryromance @crazywritinfool

After a painful marriage and an even more difficult breakup, Antonytte Mullin has sworn off men. Even her best friend’s “re-wedding” isn’t enough to spark romantic urges in Tony’s broken heart. Until she sees…him.

David Peterson mooned over Tony all through high school, but she never gave him the time of day. Now he’s back, at their mutual friend’s renewal of wedding vows, and with a successful career under his belt, he’s ready for revenge. But when he sees Tony, revenge is the last thing on his mind.

When they’re snowed in together, they get the chance to discover if bruised and broken hearts really can mend.

Previously published by Samhain Publishing

Get at Amazon

EXCERPT

Not for the first time, Tony Mullin wondered why in the world she had agreed to stand up in Jim and Julia Richie’s second wedding. Looking at herself in the mirror in the dark blue velvet medieval monstrosity of a dress, she couldn’t really come up with an answer.

Except that Julia was her best friend, had been since forever, and renewing her vows on her tenth anniversary meant the world to her. Plus—and Tony was hesitant to admit the additional motivation even to herself—a good portion of her high school graduating class was going to be there, as well as Julia’s other friends and family. None of Tony’s fellow classmates had seen her since not long after graduation. Truth to tell, Tony had something to prove.

With a sigh, Tony adjusted the tall, pointy hat over her sleekly upswept hair and pinned it in place, adjusting the gauzy blue veils around her face. A collection of dark blonde strands refused to stay in place, falling in less than artful disarray around her face. She looked ridiculous.

The fabric was wonderful, though. Tony slid her hand down the sensuous softness of the velvet and imagined once again the suit it would become once the ceremony was over—Tony’s own version of a designer suit she’d seen in a fashion magazine. It was one of the reasons she’d finally agreed to participate, especially when Julia had offered to foot the bill.

The dippy hat seemed to sit a bit too low on her forehead. Tony loosened a few pins and readjusted it. It hadn’t seemed right, letting Julia buy the dress. But Julia had insisted.

“It’s not a wedding wedding, after all,” she’d argued. “We’re just renewing our vows.”

Tony had just shaken her head, knowing she was about to agree to whatever Julia asked, as much to get her hands on that rich, blue velvet as anything else. “I still can’t believe you convinced Jim to wear tights.”

Julia and Jim’s first wedding had been a simple affair, with a Justice of the Peace presiding and Tony and her then-husband Rudy James serving as witnesses. But Julia had always wanted a big to-do with the wedding party in medieval garb, and that was what she was about to get. The participants were the same—Julia as bride, Jim as groom and Tony as the lone bridesmaid—but the setting looked like something out of a bad Robin Hood movie.

“More like Monty Python and the Holy Grail,” Tony muttered. She stepped out to meet the crowd.

Not for the first time, David Peterson wondered why he’d been invited to Julia and Jim Richie’s second wedding.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only guest with the same question. Except the curious gazes that followed him as he walked up the aisle asked not, “What is he doing here?” but “Who is he?”

David muffled a smile as he sat down. He had most of a pew to himself. The guest list appeared to consist of his and Julia’s entire graduating class, but that had only been about fifty people. Maybe thirty-five of them were here now, sprinkled among faces he didn’t recognize who were probably Julia’s family. Many of their classmates had moved out of state after graduation. David had planned never to see them again. He wanted to see them now, though. Wanted them to see his success. Petty, he knew, but somewhere inside, he was still the nerdy teenager who’d taken the brunt of far too much harassment. He wasn’t proud of it, but there it was.

He smoothed his Star Wars tie, straightened his Armani suit jacket and picked up his program. As he glanced over the order of the ceremony, his heart did a strange little flip, and suddenly, he understood why the universe had conspired to put him in the same room with the people who’d ruined his teenage years.

Julia’s single bridesmaid was Antonytte Mullin.

Mullin. Not James. Mullin.

And David knew he had fallen into the hands of Fate. The question was, what would he do now he was there?

ABOUT KATRIENA KNIGHTS

Katriena Knights wrote her first poem when she was three years old and had to dictate it to her mother under the bathroom door (her timing has never been very good). Now she’s the author of several paranormal and contemporary romances. She recently moved from the mountains of Colorado to Urbana, Illinois, where she lives in a house that’s almost a hundred years old with her daughter and a variety of animals. So far, the house appears not to be haunted.

Author’s Website | Twitter

Release Blitz: Starting From Here by Lane Hayes #SecondChanceRomance #LGBTQ @LaneHayes3

Title: Starting From Here

Series: Starting From, #3

Author: Lane Hayes

Publisher: Lane Hayes

Release Date: October 1, 2020

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 80k

Genre: Romance, Bisexual, Enemies to lovers, Rock and roll, Second Chance, Fake Boyfriend

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

Two bands, one goal, and a second chance…

Declan-

Everything is finally going well. I have a new band, a new label, and a debut album coming out. And then my drummer breaks his wrists. Just my luck. I need a quick replacement to record one more song, but my options are limited, and of course, the obvious candidate hates my guts. Okay, so I may have given him a few reasons over the years, but isn’t there an expiration date on holding a grudge?

Tegan-

I don’t trust Declan McNamara. Sure, he’s talented, smart, and has more sex appeal than any one person should be allowed. And yeah, he may be a rock star in the making, but beware—he’s trouble. However, our new record label’s survival may depend on a truce and extreme measures…of the fake boyfriend variety. If it’s our best shot at the big time, I’m willing to set the past aside and start over…here and now.

Starting From Here is a MM, bisexual romance rock and roll style…rival bands, fake boyfriends, and a second chance at a new love story. Each book in the Starting From series can be read as a stand-alone.

Excerpt

The sound of cheerful squealing rang in the background before she hung up. I stared into space for a minute or two, feeling very…alone. I didn’t want to slip into teenage levels of self-pity. There was really nothing lamer than a privileged grown-ass adult whining about mommy issues. I flipped through television channels, pausing on a special about great white sharks. Then I tossed the controller aside and picked up my cell again.

Would you ever swim with sharks?

My phone buzzed immediately. I smiled when Tegan’s name lit the screen. Are you high?

I wish. Swimming with sharks is a thing. People get in cages and film themselves being surrounded by predators…for fun.

People are fucking crazy.

True.

What are you watching?

National Geographic. I was hoping for a sex in the wild segment, but I got sharks instead.

Shark sex?

I grinned. Nope. I don’t think I’m ready for that.

It’s not exciting. Fish sex is seriously unhot.

True.

My chuckled morphed into a belly laugh as I sank deeper into the cushion. I shared a quick story about the saucy squirrels who were getting it on outside my window last spring. Tegan teased me for being a rodent voyeur, then recommended a few human porn sites I might appreciate instead.

Btw, it’s officially midnight. Congrats.

I stared at the screen for a moment. I typed and erased two or three thank-yous that seemed a little too effusive. I didn’t want to come across as too excited or too grateful and somehow clingy, so I gave up and pressed Call.

“Hey.”

“Are you really fucking calling me?”

I chuckled. “Yeah. I am. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. But it’s midnight, and I hate talking on the phone, so good ni—”

“Don’t hang up.”

“What’s wrong?”

I stared at the TV unseeing. “Nothing. I just…I’m keyed up and I need someone to talk to. What was your first release like? I know Zero’s record is still doing well. But…what was like in the beginning? How’d you feel?”

Silence.

“You want the truth?”

“Yeah.”

“It was anticlimactic.”

“Oh. That’s kind of depressing.”

“No, it’s just life. Nothing ever happens as fast as you want it to. You’ve got to be patient and keep doing your thing,” he advised. “We came home from our summer tour thinking we made it. What didn’t turn into superstars, but we made progress. And every day it gets better. But who knows what will happen? Maybe you’ll wake up at number one. Just stay positive and…stop torturing yourself.”

I smiled when Tegan’s uplifting advice gave way to exasperation. It was cute.

“It’s what I do. I excel at the art of self-sabotage. Ask my mom. If I bomb, you can be sure she’ll be the first one to say ‘I told you so.’ She’ll choose her words carefully, though. She’ll be kind-ish before she gently suggests that it’s time to throw in the towel and join the family firm. Fuck my life.”

“But it’s your life. The honor of making mistakes or kicking ass is all yours. You wrote those songs to be heard. Not everyone will love what you do, but plenty of people will. You just gotta be right in your own head. Ask yourself if you gave your best. Did you?”

“Of course.”

“You’ll do just fine, then. If you sell a million copies, great. If not, you’ll still learn something.”

Silence.

“Thanks. I needed that,” I said softly.

“You’re welcome. Now go to sleep.”

“I’m an almost rock star, and it’s midnight. My night is just beginning,” I lied, stifling a yawn.

“Have fun, rock god,” he snorted.

“I’m kidding. I’m channel surfing.”

“You mean porn surfing?”

I barked a quick laugh. “No, I get my porn on the internet like everyone else. I was watching that show about hoarders. It made me feel better somehow.”

“You’re a freak. Get your computer and jack off. You’ll feel better, and you’ll sleep better,” he advised sagely.

“Thanks, Dr. Monroe. I’ll report back in the morning.”

“Not necessary. Especially if there’re boobs involved.”

“I watch more dick porn than chick porn. I watched a great locker room scene last night. The coach and the quarterback. Sexy as fuck.”

“Are you really sharing a spank-bank story?”

“Yeah, you want the link?”

Purchase at Amazon

Meet the Author

Lane Hayes loves a good romance! An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters. Her debut novel was a 2013 Rainbow Award finalist and subsequent books have received Honorable Mentions, and were winners in the 2016, 2017, and 2018-2019 Rainbow Awards. She loves red wine, chocolate and travel (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband in a not quite empty nest.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Instagram | Bookbub

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Price of Fame by Treva Harte #GayRomance @HarteTreva

Gene Price, former teenage star, has been living the simple life, cut off from anyone who knows about him and his former bad reputation. When Gene gets death threats he turns to Leo, the bodyguard and lover he fired years ago. He doesn’t want any part of his past, but Leo is the only one he trusts to protect him.

Leo is sure Gene will stay in California — with Leo — once he gets Gene back home. But it looks like Gene’s only here to make sure his only friend in the state isn’t the one making threats.

It probably doesn’t matter that Leo cares a hell of a lot for Gene. Enough to protect him, find out the truth, and let Gene decide whether to stay or go.

Publisher’s Note: The Price of Fame Duet includes the previously published novellas Going Back and Guarded Heart.

Get it Today at Changeling Press

 

SNEAK PEEK

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Treva Harte
Excerpt from Going Back

“Been a long time, Leo.” The extra decade looked good on him. He had more muscle — more presence. He wore his suit easily, not like the nervous minder Lane had hired back in the day. There was just enough gray at the temples to make him look distinguished. He’d grown up looking fine.

I found myself rubbing the surgery scar underneath my hair. I thought I’d broken myself of that nervous habit. But I didn’t like the way he was assessing me. Yeah, we both knew the extra decade hadn’t done as much for me. I sure as hell wasn’t the pretty boy people had gone insane for when I was in my teens and early twenties. I could see in his eyes that he wasn’t impressed. It was no more than I expected, and better than the outright disappointment I sometimes got. But it stung a little.

“A long time? Yes.” His voice was deeper now, but he’d talked a little more back then. Smiled a little more.

He wanted to be here even less than I’d wanted to ask for him. My stomach clenched again. What else could I expect? I couldn’t think of anything I’d done then to make him want to see me now. It was too bad that I’d liked him back when I didn’t like anyone much. Since I remembered the way I worked during my glory days, it meant I’d been more of a dick to him than I normally was. And I was a pretty big dick to people.

“I probably should apologize for that long ago time.” My memory was a little spotty, but I remembered a few incidents with him hustling me out of trouble while I did my best to stay back in it. And of course the reason he’d quit.

He looked at me steadily and didn’t say anything.

So I kept talking. “I’m still kind of an asshole, but I like to think my time away from all the glitter has improved my behavior some. People don’t get nearly as pissed off at me now.”

“Death threats usually mean someone is pissed off,” he pointed out.

I took a deep breath. “Well. I suppose there’s that. I was hoping you would tell me not to worry so much about it.”

“Afraid that’s not in my best interest. You hired me and hauled me out here on the tail end of a blizzard because you’ve been worried, and now I’m being paid to worry about it. But whatever. I don’t care about how you feel about these notes as long as you realize I’m in charge of keeping you safe. I’ll do whatever seems necessary.”

“You aren’t much in favor of the customer is always right, are you?” I tried to smile. It wasn’t his words so much as his attitude that stung. I probably had picked the wrong guy for this job.

Strange how disappointing that thought was.

“May I see the originals?” He held out his hand as if I carried the notes next to my heart or something.

I stood up and fumbled in my desk drawer. I didn’t usually use my desk drawers for anything but dumping unwanted mail. I suppose these qualified.

Leo put on reading glasses and set his mouth in an even straighter, grimmer line if that was possible. He read the two of them three times before he looked up.

“They don’t mention why you deserve to die,” he said. “As you say, you’ve been out of the public eye for a decade at least. What have you stirred up recently?”

I shrugged. “Nothing. Seriously. I keep pretty much to routine here. Pay my bills, say hello as needed to the neighbors, feed the dog.”

Leo glanced over at Ozzy, who half-opened his eyes and thumped his tail agreeably. Everyone was Ozzy’s friend. It could be annoying.

“Anything at all?”

I frowned. “I have something in mind, but I haven’t done it yet.”

Leo didn’t say anything. He was good at that.

“Really, the only thing I’ve done recently is start to think about investing in some property near here. There’s talk about rebuilding the only hotel and restaurant within thirty miles. It went out of business a few years ago when the owners retired and sold to some New Yorker who promptly went bankrupt in the middle of trying to make the place look like New York. It could bring in some jobs and money, but I wouldn’t want it done stupidly with some new development company that goes bust. I only got as far as asking Lane to look into pulling out some principal from my savings if I thought it might pan out. But people around here want the hotel back. No one local would be threatening me. Actually, if they did, they’d probably just come after me with a shotgun. There’s plenty of those around here.”

“Nothing else?”

“Jesus. I live by myself and I keep things quiet. Haven’t done television or a movie in years, and paparazzi aren’t likely to track me out here to watch me buy my groceries or split firewood.” My head was starting to hurt. I took a deep breath. “I’m pretty inoffensive nowadays.”

The old landline phone with the loud ring made me jump. I didn’t get a lot of calls.

“Hello?” I relaxed. My most constant caller was Lane and even she kept it to once or twice a month usually. This must be one of those calls.

Yeah, it was her.

“You’re about to have a visitor.” She sounded a little tense.

“Leo is already here. No problem.” Or not much of one. I was already a little twitchy from his presence, but I’d get over it once I got used to someone around.

“I’m glad, but I don’t mean a bodyguard. I suppose I don’t mean a visitor, either.” Lane stopped.

“That clears that up.”

“Don’t take up being a smart-ass again. You don’t have time for it.”

“All right, all right. What the hell is going on?”

“You’re about to have family call on you.”

“What the hell?” I hadn’t spoken to my parents since I turned eighteen and took control of my own money — and sued the hell out of them for taking mine before that. “Head them off!”

“Can’t. Social workers are on your trail.” That’s when I heard the note of real concern. I was in trouble?

“What? I’m way too old for a child care agency and not old enough for senior services.” A little too late, I realized I should have asked Leo to step out of the room.

“Congrats, Gene. It’s a boy.”

 

About the Author

Treva Harte has always been an overachiever. She also collects things. First it was degrees. First a B.A. in English, then she decided to go back for a Master’s degree. Not content with that, she added a J.D. Since then she’s added a husband, also an attorney, and two children to her collection. She’s continuing her ways as an overachiever, writing her wonderfully offbeat tales of passion and possibilities — in her spare time.

Visit her website at www.trevaharte.com.

The Case of the Deadly Game – Part 2 by Stephanie Burke #murdermystery #interracialromance @Flashycat

The Case of the Deadly Game Part 2 (Mai-Fly Mysteries 5)

Cover Art by Bryan Keller

Time is running out, and Mai swears Fate, that fickle b*tch, is laughing at her.

Accused of murder, and hunted by a vindictive British agent who’s out for blood, how will Mai solve the crime, save the day, and beat the Deadly Game so she can finally have her fairytale ending?

 

Get it at Changeling Press

Use code TGIF03-27-2020 for 15% off your entire order!

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Stephanie Burke

A shower and a nap did wonders for Mai’s disposition, and she had a wide grin on her face as she walked beside Ptris, who looked rather smug himself.

Sex between the two of them just kept getting better. She’d like to say that something felt missing, that fucking Ptris needed the extra oomph from having her Ry-Ry there, but even though she missed her lover, pined for him, her experiences with Ptris left her shaking, sore, and blessedly satisfied.

She sighed softly as Trouble, the Black Shuck, bounded toward her, leaving Lu-Lu’s side as he happily took his place beside her.

“So,” Lu-Lu drawled, “Got it all out of your system?”

“Fuck you,” Mai drawled back, burying her hand in Trouble’s ruff and smiling at the little moan of pleasure the hell hound released.

“That’s Ptris’ job,” Lu-Lu returned, just as happy as she tugged Austin to her side while they moved across the empty lobby toward the pair. “And it looks like he does it well.”

“Like it’s his main job and favorite hobby all rolled into one,” Mai admitted without shame, trying to pull a reaction out of her Dryad. Instead of flushing or showing any embarrassment, Ptris nodded and crossed his hands behind his back, though a purple vine eased its way from his hair to grip the hand that wasn’t petting Trouble.

“Well, when you get that old you manage to discover some pretty tricks, right, Austin?” She giggled as her lover smiled tenderly back at her.

“More than a few,” he admitted, shooting a look at Ptris that conveyed smugness and some kind of sexual brotherhood. “And I never mind sharing them with the ones I love.”

“Love me less,” Mai teased. “I don’t even want to think about your sex life. It would send me running for the hills.”

“We don’t have to think about your sex life, Mai-Mai.” Lu-Lu rolled her eyes. “We hear it every time you decide to get frisky.” Then she leered at Ptris. “I can hear you do great work.”

“As my Queen demands and requires,” he answered, his stoic expression finally breaking as he shot a grin at Mai. The Dryad radiated contentment and happiness for a bright shining moment before it was once again, hidden by the calm facade that slammed down over his face.

“Your Queen is satisfied,” Mai confirmed before turning to look at the rest of her Court. “So, we need to find out what’s going on in Lightwater. And I know the perfect place to snoop.”

“Back to Jon-Ton’s?” Lu-Lu asked, tilting her head just a little as she looked around the empty lobby. “‘Cause it’s not like anything is happening around here.”

“There were a few guests,” Mai noted. “Did they all just leave? And where are the staff?”

“The staff is in mourning,” Austin spoke softly, his gaze trailing over the hotel decor that seemed to be warring with each other. “Most of them knew Elias Humphries and are taking his death hard. He must have been using some of his Brownie power inadvertently because this place suddenly feels a lot colder without his presence.”

“I thought Brownies just kept the place neat and tidy while looking after their homes and the people who reside within them.” Mai gave the space a look herself and had to agree with Austin. The place seemed to be lacking something, the charm it had exhibited even when the place looked like a war between Tradition and Modernization. “This is kind of creepy.”

“Brownies often do more than just cook and clean when allowed. In the States, their power is heavily restricted and they aren’t allowed to exert the full force of their powers. Brownies keep diseases and sickness at bay. They imbue all that enter into their homes with a sense of well- being and peace that can be hard to find outside the safety of their own family. They keep depression at bay and have the ability to absorb what humans often call negative emotions, leaving those who enter into their sphere of influence content and feeling lighter. Some of that warmth is missing from the hotel and people can now see the flaws here. Consider this. Imagine that his influence was a thin veil that masked all the issues that surround this place. Now with him gone, more and more you can feel and see the troubles that his hotel was going through.”

“And so can the other guests.” Mai nodded in understanding. “With the death of an apparently beloved figure, it only makes sense that they would feel the negativity of this whole situation and flee. I don’t blame them.” Mai shuddered. Now that she was looking for it, she could feel a bit of coldness in the hotel. It was like the life had been drained away from it.

“So we aren’t going to learn anything here.” Austin broke the silence that had dropped for a few moments after Mai spoke. “We have to go where actual people are gathering.”

“And that would be Jon-Ton’s,” Lu-Lu added. “I’m all for gossip and pastry. We left before I really got a chance to sample the wares in the case.”

“You think with your stomach,” Austin poked at her appetite.

“And you think with your dick, lover,” Lu-Lu sassed right back. “But you don’t see me complaining.”

“Oh, that wasn’t a complaint.” Austin laughed. “It was me pointing out the obvious. We all have our crosses to bear, so our partners had just better sit back and enjoy the ride.”

“Aren’t they sweet?” Mai remarked, looking up at Ptris with a grin on her lips. “That could be us but you won’t smile at me.”

“I smile when appropriate,” Ptris countered. “Like when you are naked and swearing, screaming in my face for more as you ride me hard. I smile then.”

Mai ignored the blush she could feel heating her cheeks as she turned toward the front doors of McDowel’s. “So, who’s for pastry?” she asked, ignoring the snorts of laughter from her friends. “I’m suddenly starving.”

“And your man won’t go to the kitchen and make you a sandwich?” Lu-Lu joked. “Aww, you poor baby. Let’s get you fed. Great sex makes everyone hungry.” She leered at Austin, who leered back while Mai-Mai rolled her eyes at all of them.

“Why do I hang out with you people?” she asked, moving toward the door, Ptris at her side.

“Because we make you laugh?” Lu-Lu all but skipped to her side. “Admit it. You love us. You wouldn’t know what to do without us.”

“That… that’s true,” Mai admitted, a sudden seriousness taking over her mood. “I would have never made it this far without you all.”

“You are our Queen.” Austin spoke softly, opening the doors for them to pass through. “There is nothing we wouldn’t do to help you succeed and become reunited with your Prince.”

The others nodded in agreement. The vine around her wrist squeezed tightly for just a moment before she was released and the tender purple extension of her lover slid back into his hair.

“So let’s work with that.” Mai relaxed, surrounded by her Court. “Let’s go make some magic.”

 

About Stephanie Burke

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.

Stephanie at Changeling Press | Blog

 

 

Backup Plan (Spaceport) by Shelby Morgen #scifiromance

Backup Plan (Spaceport Multi-Author 32)

Cover Art by Renee George

 

When Dr. Ruth Balise ran out of funding for her research, she had no idea the twisted path her work would take. Her psychiatric profile adjustment was supposed to be more humane — a way to render violent sociopaths and the criminally insane harmless to themselves and others.

But in a black-market society where medical miracles are for sale to the highest bidder, a death sentence is far too wasteful. Why settle for just one replacement body part, when you can own the whole thing? Prisoners are maintained in semi-stasis, their memories wiped, the cost of their physical care sponsored by aging aristocrats, hosts for future replacement organs.

After all, they’re just bodies — empty shells. Pod fuck-bunnies, their monitors call them, living in an endless loop of sex, drugged with their own endorphins into a constant state of euphoria, their bodies maintained in prime health. They’re not supposed to wake up — ever — and they’re certainly not supposed to escape.

Now Ruth is one of them, and only Panama Red, the space pirate turned bodyguard who’s out to rescue Ruth, can save her. But will he still be willing to trust her with his heart, once he knows she engineered this hell?

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for February 28th at retailers

   

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Shelby Morgen

I’m coming! I wanted to scream. Those were the right words, that much I was sure of, but I knew better. No one screamed here. I held it all inside. Even as the orgasm ripped through me I wondered — somewhat cynically, I’ll admit — was it possible to get bored with sex?

I’d never had thoughts like these. Not until… hell, I realized I’d had no concept of time. That is, I did now, but before…

Something was happening to me. Something was changing.

No, not something. Me. I was changing. My mind was… waking up. The faceless body before me writhed, screaming soundlessly, and the final release tore through me, bathing me in the flood of pleasure that had always before brought these churning thoughts to a tumultuous end.

Release. Blissful sleep. The fulfillment of a promise…

Ha. Make that hard work. Hot, sweaty sex. A partner well pleasured. Then sleep. Then on to the next rotation.

The harder, heavier body of the other… whatever it was… groaned, wrapping itself around me, almost smothering with its weight and heat. I’d never minded before. That was the reward for a job well done. Release. Euphoria. Malaised contentment.

So why was I awake? Why was I fighting the urge to push the other off me?

I opened my… my eyes, yes. I opened my eyes and fought to focus, rapidly learning how to adjust for the closeness of the body before me. Saw the mouth. The mouth I had kissed. The lips I had bitten, now bruised and swollen from our passion. The contented smile. The…

Blankness.

Revulsion swept through me, stronger than any orgasm. The thing might as well have been an inflatable doll. No sign of intelligence. No sign of anything at all. It was — he was — just a mouth. And a cock.

Or maybe I’d had it right the first time. It.

And what made me any different? Other than my lack of a cock? Until two rotations ago, I’d been little more. A mouth and a cunt.

Cunt. Somehow I knew the word was coarse, crude. Beneath me. And I liked the sound of it. Forbidden fruit. I smiled, placed my hands on the cock’s shoulders, and pushed. Hard.

Arms tightened around me, clamping down like steel bands. “You’re awake!”

“Let go of me.”

“Keep your voice down. Don’t move. Shut your eyes. And smile!”

All right. He. A lunatic, but gods, he had gorgeous eyes. The color of precious minerals, deep cobalt, flecked with gold. Still. “Get the blyat off me.”

“Hush! You just had the best sex of your life. Smile!”

“Arrogant prick!”

“Do you want to get us killed? We’re not supposed to be awake, damn it.” He smothered my reply with his mouth, giving my rapidly emerging vocabulary time to catch up.

Killed. Past tense of kill.

Death.

Dead.

I understood the concept well enough to quit fighting. I tore his words apart like my guide to the mystery they were. We’re not supposed… Soooo. Wherever we were, whoever we were — both concepts seemed new, yet familiar — there were rules. We’d — I’d — been asleep, at least on some level. Now I was awake.

Awake was bad.

 

More from Shelby Morgen at Changeling Press …

Shelby Morgen loves writing offbeat tales that defy as many rules as possible.

She likes chocolate with her peanut butter, suspense with her romance, and kink with her sex, and she’s always had a hard time keeping science fiction, fantasy and paranormal from mixing with her kink.

Shelby shares her belief in electronic publishing with her longtime friend and partner, Bill, her husband of nearly four decades.

 

Book Blitz: Aces High by M. Never #Contemporary #Romance #books #NewRelease

Aces High: A Second Chance MC Romance
M. Never
Publication date: September 25th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

From USA Today bestselling author M. Never, comes a hot, steamy, adventurous second chance romance.

Ten years ago, all Liv Ward wanted was my love. What she got was a broken heart instead.

When The Bowman’s death causes my world to come crashing down the only silver lining is it brings Liv, his daughter, back into my life. The last thing the sharp, artsy, brunette wants is anything to do with me. But time away and grief do strange things to people, bringing them together in unexpected ways. Like, drunk and horny and naked in your bed.

With my options running out, I find myself in a cut throat race against time, fighting for the woman I want back all while trying to figure out exactly how to stay alive.

Now…

I have two weeks left to live.

Two weeks to come up with one hundred thousand dollars.

Two weeks to convince the woman I love she loves me, too.

Aces High is a complete standalone in the Baum Squad MC universe. It includes intense sexual situations and some violence. Reader discretion is advised.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

She scans my bruised face with an anguished expression on her own. Have the last forty-eight hours been just as miserable for her as they were for me? Or does she just feel sorry for me? I wish I could read her mind, but I just have to hold my breath and wait for an answer. The song has ended. The music stopped, but we are still in the same spot, trapped together, unwilling to part.

“Four days?” she considers.

“An indecent proposal.” I slide my hands down to her ass and grip both of her juicy cheeks. She’s wearing a skin-tight pair of jeans that hug every curve of her bottom. The force of my hold mashes together our lower bodies, giving Liv an up-close and personal feel of my growing need, and want, and desire. A small, titillating moan escapes her mouth as she’s swept away in the moment.

“Heaven help me. I accept.” She falls to pieces right in my arms.

“I thought that was going to take more convincing.” “Consider all your efforts over the last week and a half counting toward my decision.”

“Oh, yeah?” My pride swells. “Good to know it wasn’t all for nothing.” I drop a kiss on her lips, and then another. I add one more just for good luck. And maybe because I just love kissing her.

“So, are we done wasting time down here? I’m ready to go to bed.” Erase the boundaries, and Liv is a livewire.

“Not yet.”

“You’re gonna make me wait?” She’s equally pouty and surprised.

“A little bit longer, yeah. I gotta put my time in first.”

“And how much time are we talking?” Liv is provocatively close.

“I’m not sure. A few hours, maybe?”

“That seems like an impossibly long time.”

“It is an impossibly long time,” I agree, my balls aching like a motherfucker. I’ve been fighting for Liv’s attention for so long, I’ve reverted back to a goddamn horny teenager.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to wait for you, then. Alone,” she sighs, “naked . . . and wet.”

“Wet?” I swallow hard.

 

Author Bio:

M. Never, the author of dark, contemporary and ménage romance. All my stories have addictive heroes, fierce heroines, hot sex, and page turning plots. A little about me, I love the color black, I’m dependent on coffee, sushi, sweatpants, boots, and watermelon Perrier. I have a clingy pit bull named Apache, and a needy pitsky names Kai! Writing is my passion, but readers are my love! Suggested reading– Owned, Ghostface Killer or Slashes in the Snow!

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

 

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