Book Blitz: Fumbled by Lizzi Stone #SportsRomance #RomCom @XpressoTours

Fumbled
Lizzi Stone
(A Chesapeake Commanders Novel, #1)
Publication date: January 11th 2022
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance, Sports

Hawk Florence has always been the football star, the guy that can make any girl fall in love with him- and then break their heart. And that’s exactly what he did to me way back in high school. Now I’ve been assigned to do a puff piece on him for a national sports journal, and I’m more than ready to get my revenge.

The plan is simple. First, sit him down and flatter the shit out of him. Laugh at his crappy jokes. Touch his arm, let it linger. When he asks me out, I’ll flutter my eyelashes and shyly accept. Then, make him fall in love. And devour him. I’m ready. I won’t fail. But there’s one thing that I didn’t plan for: he doesn’t ask me out. Instead, he calls me out on my BS. He’s not wrong, but that’s just one of the ways that my plan has already gone terribly wrong before it even begins.

When he does finally ask me out, it isn’t much of a date. Instead, it’s a few agonizing hours of going back and forth about why we hate each other. But there is one interesting thing that came out of our brief time together: the bet that Hawk makes with me- that he will make me fall in love in 3 weeks, in love for real. If he fails, he’ll give me every exclusive for the season. Of course, I accept. Why wouldn’t I? This will help my career, and it’s not like he has a prayer anyway. This jerk broke my heart in high school, and there’s no way that I will fall for the same trick twice. Or will I?

All bets are off when it comes to the heart. Fumbled is a standalone sports romcom that will make you wonder what to do when love- and football- gives you a second chance….

Other books in the series (so far):

Sacked- Chase’s book

Tackled- Bam’s book

Huddled- Ollie’s book

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

EXCERPT:

“How do I look?” I smiled brilliantly, and batted my eyelashes.

“Like you’re ready to knock off his socks and shoes and leave him to walk home on his bare-ass feet,” Grace replied, as only a best friend can.

“I was going for ‘crawling home on hands and knees,’ but it will do,” I joked. Okay, half joked. I wanted him to look at me. Really look at me, like he hadn’t in high school. Maybe it was petty. I was doing well for myself. I worked at National Daily magazine’s headquarters here in Norfolk. I owned the part of my apartment the bank didn’t own, which was approximately a fingertip of space in the bathroom. Maybe the whole toilet. I didn’t need to impress any guy.

Any but this one.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Grace picked up the lipstick tube and slipped it into my bag.

“In case I get tongue-tied?” I asked. “What’s the worst that could happen?” All right, I might march in and declare myself to be the proud owner of a toilet. I’m pretty sure even I wouldn’t be that awkward.

Author Bio:

Lizzi Stone is the pen name for two USA Today Bestselling authors who love sports, sexy men, strong women and coffee, lots and lots of coffee! For giveaways, new releases and deals follow Lizzi on Facebook @lizzistoneauthor.

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Release Blitz: No Easy Catch by Jaqueline Snowe #enemiestolovers #eroticromance #sports @firstforromance @totally_bound

No Easy Catch by Jaqueline Snowe

Book 4 in the Cleat Chasers series

Word Count: 81,189
Book Length: SUPER NOVEL
Pages: 308

Genres:

CONTEMPORARY
ENEMIES TO LOVERS
EROTIC ROMANCE
SPORTS

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Book Description

A jock and a party girl teaming up—makes total sense, right? Actually, maybe…

Ambar Henderson is a senior communications major who has no idea what she wants to do in life. She spends most of her time working on her blog after gaining a lot of readers with a story she wrote junior year and…never followed up on. The last thing she expects is an angry jock accusing her of involvement in a scam that could shake the college to its foundations.

Jeff Maddow should be focused on his senior season of baseball and not the suspicious activity happening on the team. It’s his time to shine and get drafted, but after seeing incriminating evidence, he can’t not investigate. And his first lead is the campus blogger…who’s related to a name in the document he saw.

Ambar’s been coasting, writing about campus fashion and hook-ups rather than politics and economics, but when Jeff shows up at her place spouting wild accusations, she agrees to help him just to prove the stubborn athlete wrong.

Long nights, impassioned arguments, close quarters…both Jeff and Ambar find opposites more than attract when things heat up.

Publisher’s note: This book was previously released by Finch Books.

Excerpt

Convincing the hostess to let me into the second semester sports fundraiser was easier than it should’ve been. With one little promise of featuring her on my blog and bam, the young girl ushered me into the ballroom where the school’s biggest and best athletes mingled with coaches, alumni and the press.

Ah, the things people do for attention.

I tapped my pen against my lip while I took in the surroundings. It wasn’t black tie, but it was fancier than a casual get-together and I sent a prayer of thanks to my roommate who’d convinced me to wear a sleek black dress. It was a little tight and I kept running my hand down to the side to make sure my love-handles weren’t bulging out. My coordination was abysmal and I tripped over my own two feet sometimes, but at least I didn’t stand out—which was the goal.

I needed a new story to boost views on my blog or I would be shit outta luck. No views meant no affiliates, which equaled less money, and with my less-than-stellar first two years at school, I had no internships or job opportunities waiting for me at the end of the semester. The real world was knocking with graduation looming and I hadn’t a clue what I wanted to or could actually do.

But, I did have a clue about what the student body loved to gossip about more than any other topic—the latest on the hot jocks. Girls, guys, scholarships and walk-ons. Readers loved hearing about the latest flings or scandals and this fundraiser was hot-jock central.

“Ambar Henderson?” A familiar voice caught my attention and I glanced at my left to see Peyton Gentry smiling at me. “What are you here for? Sneak in for the free booze?”

“Ha ha.” I plastered on a fake smile despite the flash of hurt. Peyton and I had become friends freshman year—right in the smack of my party days—and he always brought it up no matter how much I had changed since then. “I’m here for a story, not the booze.”

“Right.” He smirked and lowered his voice. “Is it a juicy one?” He slung an arm over my shoulder in a quick hug and, while I didn’t dislike Peyton, I was glad when he removed his arm. “Heard there’s something weird going on with the volleyball team with one of their new freshmen.”

“Yeah?” I waited for him to respond, but his attention drifted elsewhere and he gave me a weak wave before heading off. “Great to see you too, Peyton,” I mumbled to myself. He was an average player on the soccer team but always managed to make himself seem bigger, better, more handsome. I snorted to myself at the headlines I would love to write someday.

Athletes and their egos—size does really matter

The bigger and not better—egos exposed

I took a deep breath, gathered as much courage as I could and walked about the event searching for anything that could be of interest. There were a couple of girls I recognized from the volleyball team, but they seemed normal, laid-back even. Each table had a large tented sign with the sport listed and it amazed me to see how much attention was given to athletes at our Division I school. Were there events like this for scholars? For those who made the Dean’s List year after year? Doubtful.

Schools spend money on sports, not smarts

Yeah, that headline wouldn’t sell shit. I derailed those thoughts and tried to ignore the tinge of jealousy weaving its way through my body. All these athletes had futures after college. They had tutors, scholarships, teams that supported them and, as someone who came from the opposite end of the spectrum, it was easy to envy them.

A loud cackle exploded near the front where the baseball players sat talking to what I assumed to be the coaches. They wore polos with the school logo, were significantly older than them and had the whole coaching vibe with the hard face and knowing eyes. Zade Willows, Tanner Johnson and Aaron Hill all wore suits and smiles and a part of my stomach fluttered. They were so handsome and such decent human beings I wished I could’ve written a million stories on them. Their faces alone would get readers. But I’d already done a story on Aaron and his girlfriend, so that well was dry. Plus, they were my friends and I refused to cross that boundary.

Moving on to another sport, I weaved through tables, trying to listen to conversations for something to spark motivation. Fifteen minutes passed without any luck and the familiar sensation of failure washed over me. How can I pass my senior classes when I can’t even write a stupid blog post without getting writer’s block?

God, I wish I could drink.

It wouldn’t hurt anyone if I snuck one bottled water and I blended in with the crowd as I approached the refreshment table. That was the good thing about being average-looking. No one really noticed me like they did my beautiful and tall roommates. I undid the cap and took a huge gulp when I felt someone staring at me.

Water spilled down my mouth and onto my dress when I found cold, unamused gray eyes narrowing at me. Jeff Maddow. He defined my perfect male specimen with his honey-brown hair styled just enough to be cool, his massive broad shoulders that went well with his defined pecs—perfectly showcased in the dark-gray dress shirt plastered across his chest. Good lord.

Shit, did he say something?

Did I?

His light gray eyes were framed by perfectly dark eyelashes and, God damn, those cheekbones were enough to make me forget my own name. He blinked and tilted his head to the side with impatience as he approached me. “Ambar Henderson, how the hell did you get into this event? You are neither an athlete nor a sponsor.”

“I have my ways.” I jutted out my chin and ignored the sweat pooling down my back.

“Did you sneak in? No, wait, let me guess. You bribed someone.” He smiled like it was a joke, but his tone made it clear he was not happy. “I should call security.”

“Really, Jeff? Come on.” I hated how my fingers shook when I ran them through my hair, trying to act nonchalant. “I didn’t bribe anyone.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.” He brought up a glass of champagne to his mouth and held my gaze as he took a sip. It was annoying to be attracted to someone who thought so little of me, but, alas, that was life.

“What do you care if I’m here? I’m not bothering you or anyone for that matter.”

“False.” He finished the glass and took a step closer to me. For one stupid second, I wondered what it would be like to feel his full lips against mine, but the look on his face sobered that thought. “You are a known campus blogger who finds out information about people to get views. You’re no better than a tabloid magazine for a college. Athletes have enough to worry about with how hard we have to work. They should feel safe here, celebrating and networking, not worrying about being featured on a girl’s pathetic blog to get attention.”

“You know that’s not what I do, Jeff,” I defended myself but my voice lost its gusto. “I’m here for ideas…more like motivation. Nothing more.”

“Right.” He shook his head and tensed his jaw as he scanned the room. “Motivation to find out who’s sleeping with who? Who has a better batting average when they’re in a relationship versus being single?”

I gritted my teeth and willed my skin to not turn red. My cheeks burned when I attempted to defend my reasoning for writing those blogs. “It was for entertainment, Jeff. Plus, the stats didn’t lie.”

He gave me a look like many of my professors had. Disappointment. “Do you ever think about writing something credible or for a good cause?”

“The story about Hilly and Greta was—”

“Fine, sure.” He waved a hand in dismissal and gave me a look that made me feel even smaller than my just-over-five-feet frame. “But you could actually spend time writing stories that matter. Not dumbass pieces that exploit athletes and encourage cleat chasers to come after us.” He pressed his lips together and let out an aggravated sigh. “Stay away from my team, Ambar.”

Then he stalked away to the front of the room, his stiff shoulders telling me everything I needed to know. He wasn’t a fan of what I did or who I was. It wasn’t news, but his words hit one of my deepest insecurities. What am I even doing with my blog? My life?

God damn it. Find a story! I finished the water and tossed the bottle into a trash can when a familiar deep, masculine laugh caught my attention. That’s my Uncle Martin. My mood lifted instantly and I headed toward him. He was dressed in a three-piece suit and had his hand on a shoulder of a middle-aged man I didn’t recognize. He finished telling a joke—a specialty of my favorite family member—before he noticed me and ushered me over. “Ambar Henderson.”

“Martin Rhett,” I replied, mirroring his hugging stance and smiling into his chest when he wrapped me in a bear hug like he had since I was a child. “I don’t even know why you’re here, but I’m so glad.”

“Business partners in the community. We love supporting athletes!” He kept his arm around me and introduced me to the gentlemen around us. “This is my favorite niece, fellas. She’s a senior this year and is a hell of a writer.”

Various hellos and greetings echoed around me and I relished my uncle’s words. A hell of a writer. He never made me feel stupid or unremarkable. He’d encouraged me my entire life and seeing him at the event gave me the necessary boost of confidence.

“Nice to meet you all,” I said, looking all five of them in the eye and shaking their hands. There was a brief moment where I faced the direction of the baseball table and met Jeff’s gaze, but I forced myself to not stare or think about why he was watching me. “Anyone have a good story for me? I’m looking for a topic on my senior project and could use some ideas.”

“Ah, my girl is always working.” Uncle Martin laughed and led me away from the group with a smile that had taken years to practice. Once we were out of earshot, he changed his expression. “How did you get into the event, Ambar? I thought this was for athletes only.”

“See, the thing is… I was on my way out.” I gave him a cheesy smile. “Lunch next time you’re in town?”

“Of course.” He pulled me into another hug. “Stay out of trouble, okay? You have four more months of college and I don’t want anything more to happen. You know?”

Like my little drug and drinking binge freshman year?

Or my academic probation?

“I know, I know.” I frowned and felt every ounce of shame in my bones. “I’ll head out. I really did come for ideas. Nothing more.”

“I believe you. Now go through the side door. I’ll cover for you.” He indicated the large black double-doors and winked. “While I can’t condone you sneaking into an event, it does bring me joy to know you do have a little Rhett in your blood.”

“See you later, Uncle.” I smiled and snuck one more glance around the ballroom before leaving. It didn’t mean anything when Jeff continued to stare at me with an unreadable expression on his face. If anything, he should’ve been happy I was leaving his precious party. Ugh.

New headline.

Jeff Maddow should pull the stick out of his own ass to get a better batting average.

Buy Links

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First For Romance

About the Author

Jaqueline Snowe

Jaqueline Snowe lives in Arizona where the ‘dry heat’ really isn’t that bad. She enjoys making lists with colorful Post-it notes and sipping coffee all day. She has been a custodian, a waitress, a landscaper, a coach and a teacher. Her life revolves around binge-watching Netflix, her two dogs who don’t realize they aren’t humans and her wonderful baseball-loving husband.

You can take a look at Jaqueline’s Website and Blog and you can also follow her on Facebook and Twitter.

Giveaway

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New at Changeling Press: Own Goals by D.S. Dehel #sportsromance #agegap @ddehel

India Jackson’s star is on the rise. It’s taken forty years and a drawn-out divorce, but she’s finally proud of who she is and how life is treating her. Now, she’s setting her sights on the future. There is big snag, though — how people react when they find out her boyfriend Matt, one of the year’s hottest soccer talents, is only twenty-seven. She wonders how long it’ll be before he’s had enough of the gossip and call it quits.

The second half of any game is fraught with tension, and errors are likely. In soccer — and in life — an Own Goal happens when you screw up and score for the other team. When Matt racks up a personal one, India wonders if her future is with a different man… or if she’s making an unforced error of her own.

Save 15% at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 D. S. Dehel

“Aargh.” India chucked her pencil across the room, and Matt ducked, even though it came nowhere close to where he perched on the sofa.

“I’m annoyed that Bayern Munich missed the shot, but even I’m not throwing things.” She could hear the tease in his voice. “What’s up? Can’t find the right shade of pink?”

She appreciated that he was trying to coax her out of her mood, but it wouldn’t work this time. Maida had delayed their meeting yet again. At this rate, she would never get the singer’s gown done in time for the award ceremony, and with it went her best chance of launching a new career. “Luella just texted that there’s a problem.”

“Uh-oh. Another cancellation?” He pointed the remote at the television and the cheers of the German fans faded.

“Yeah. Probably.” She put her head in her hands. “I can’t believe this.” She could feel her dream slipping away.

Arms circled her. Matt must have come over. “I’m sorry, babe.”

He’s never called me that before. Having nothing to say, she shrugged.

He knelt down beside the chair. “Tell you what, tonight I’m going to cook you dinner.”

She stroked his face, enjoying the scratchy stubble. “You don’t have to do that. We can cook together.”

“Okay, we can do that, but I choose the recipe.”

“What are you up to?”

“I want to make my favorite dish.” He put his hands on her knees. “It always made me feel better when I had a bad day.”

“That’s really sweet.” She kissed his cheek. “Thank you. I will gladly be your sous chef.”

He gestured toward the kitchen with his head. “I’m going to go see what you have and make a list of what we need. Then we’ll go shopping.”

Shopping was always an adventure with him. Last time, he’d nearly gotten them kicked out of the store by insisting they race carts down the frozen vegetable aisle. “I’m going to put the finishing touches on this.” She pointed at the sketch in front of her. In fact, she really should probably leave it alone and quit fussing.

Within twenty minutes, they stood in the vegetable aisle of the nearest market searching for the best carrots and turnips. “Turnips?” India wrinkled her nose. “Ugh.”

“Well, you haven’t had mine.” He held up two small purple and white globes, waggling his eyebrows.

“I am quite familiar with your turnips.”

He smirked. “And we need little ones because they’re sweeter.”

“I’m not going to touch that.”

“Not touch my turnips?” He pretended to pout as he held them out.

“You’re incorrigible.” She grabbed the vegetables and put them in the basket. “What else?”

“Carrots.” He dug through the stack, rejecting them one by one. “Too small. Too thin.” He gave a wicked glance over his shoulder. “You can only really cook with big, thick ones.”

India rolled her eyes, and was summoning up a witty riposte when her phone vibrated. She pulled it out of her pocket, and once she read the message, she nearly dropped the phone on the floor. “Oh!”

Matt turned, a look of alarm on his face. “What?”

“She still wants to meet.” India’s heart was pounding. “Maida wants to have a video conference this afternoon.”

“That’s brilliant. When?”

“Three.” She glanced at her phone. “We have an hour.”

“I guess we better get a move on.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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

Cover Reveal: Ice Angels by Ryan Taylor and Joshua Harwood #LGBTQ #sportsromance @RyanTaylorandJ1

Ice Angels

By Ryan Taylor & Joshua Harwood

Cover Created by : Cate Ashwood

Release Date: Oct 29th 2021

Available to Preorder at Amazon

Drew and Cleevs love hockey, but they love each other more. How can the men find a way to save what matters most?

Todd Cleever and Drew Simon are crazy about each other. They started dating three years ago when “Cleevs” was a rookie defenseman for the Chicago Ice. Drew, the team’s captain, was a few years older than Cleevs. Both men were deep in the closet, but it didn’t take long for them to fall in love.

Cleevs was traded to the Bethesda Barracudas a year later, causing a heartbreaking separation. Ever since, they’ve skated around the problem with occasional stolen nights together and brief vacations under the guise of “friends,” but two years of living apart have taken their toll.

As the holiday approaches, Drew and Cleevs decide things have to change. Still, with their careers and two professional hockey teams in the way, how can they score the game-winning goal and save everything they cherish most?

If you like fierce love, a smallish age gap, exciting hockey, and a steely determination to make things work—not to mention enough steam to fog up all your windows and a fantastic HEA—this is the book for you. The novella contains about 43,000 words of sparkling holiday romance.

About the Authors

Ryan Taylor and Joshua Harwood met in law school and were married in 2017. They live in a suburb of Washington, DC and share their home with a big, cuddly German shepherd. Ryan and Josh enjoy travel, friends, and advocating for causes dear to their hearts. Ryan also loves to swim, and Josh likes to putter in the garden whenever he can. The romance they were so lucky to find with each other inspires their stories about love between out and proud men.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Ryan Taylor | Joshua Harwood | Instagram | eMail

Release Blitz & Review: Challenge Accepted by Jaqueline Snowe #sportsromance #friendstolovers @firstforromance @totally_bound

Challenge Accepted by Jaqueline Snowe

Book 1 in the Cleat Chasers series

Word Count: 85,147
Book Length: SUPER NOVEL
Pages: 329

Genres:

CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
FRIENDS TO LOVERS
SPORTS

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Book Description


College is all about learning, right?

Most college girls ‘swipe right’ to meet the right guy—Callie meets All-Star pitcher Zade while he’s buying tampons. College is all about learning, right?

How often do you meet your dream guy buying tampons at Target? Never, right? For Callie, a baseball-loving, hardworking college student, it happened just once. The magic was too real, too fast and too much, so she left the store without exchanging names.

But fate works in wonderful ways, right?

Zade Willows, the All-Star pitcher rumored to be drafted his senior year, gets what he wants. He has a fan club who follow his every move, but when he meets Callie, the game changes. She knows all his plays and that the game always ends—in heartbreak. But Zade doesn’t back down and is willing to try anything.

He’ll eventually get the girl, right?

Reader advisory: This book was previously released by Finch Books.

Excerpt

“Get your gorgeous ass in here and give me a hug.” Greta slammed the door open with her foot and jumped into my arms. She smelled the same as she had done in high school—floral and sweet. God, I had missed the hell out of my girl. She’d always been a violent hugger and the tradition continued. My lungs were gasping for air by the time she let go.

“Sorry I’m late.” I lugged the suitcase into the apartment and grinned at her motherly expression.

“Unless the reason is some hot guy or some awesome story, then I’ll remained pissed at you for another two minutes. I got afraid—”

“That I backed out? Me?” I held up my hands in surrender. “I wouldn’t back out of our pact from ten years ago. I wouldn’t dare.”

“Glad you learned something from your year off,” she mumbled loud enough for me to hear. We both had a mutual hatred of the deal my parents had forced me to accept and I understood her anger disguised the worry about this not happening. We’d dreamed about living together since we’d become best friends in fifth grade—when two kids get caught cheating on a math test, it forms a bond that’s hard to break.

“I learned, like, two things,” I replied to her comment and she skipped to my bedroom for the next year. “This is my room?”

“Yes!” she cheered. I’d expected the room to be small and I gasped when I saw a dresser, a built-in desk and a twin bed. “Wait here, I have a present for you.”

I obeyed her command and set my cases on the floor. I could fit every piece of clothing I owned in the closet, and maybe a little more. It could even serve as an extra bedroom if needed. I’d lived in my childhood home my entire life. The last year…it had been hell taking a year off to prove to my dad I could make it on my own. Pure hell. But I’d made it and it pleased me to be on my own for the first time.

“Here. I bought it for you.” She waltzed back into the bedroom with a package wrapped in sparkly paper. Greta would buy sparkly paper. “It’s nothing big, just a welcome present.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Greta. Come on.” I frowned at the gift, damn well knowing her kindness knew no bounds. She shoved it into my hands, despite my reluctance. “Fine.”

I opened it up to find the very first picture of the two of us, taken when we’d been in our band in high school. I met her eyes and we shared a smile. “Good lord. Why did we name ourselves the Crazy Gals again?”

“Because our names start with C and G. Obviously that made sense when we were fourteen.”

“I regret the name choice, but still dig the outfits.” Closing my eyes in shame, I swallowed down the memory of gaucho pants, clogs and popped-collared shirts.

She shuddered. “Oh, lord. Not me. I regret the outfit, not the name.” Greta’s legs had more style than I had in my entire body. She’d won best dressed in high school. Even now, she wore a trendy sundress with a hat while I was wearing ripped jean shorts and a vintage band tank top. “I have another gift for you, but you cannot get mad.”

“That’s a great opener. No promises, G.”

“It’s kind of small.” She bit her lip and pulled out something from her pocket. What the hell? Sundresses have pockets? A shadow of apprehension crossed her face and I worried what the fuck she’d gotten me.

I took the sticker from her hand, already planning where to put it. “I freaking love it.”

“I know you really don’t play in bands anymore, but you still have the same case.” She motioned her head to the guitar case I’d set down earlier.

“Of course I do.” I collected stickers from everywhere I went or from any large moment in my life. I peeled back the paper and placed the new college sticker on the front of the case, right in the center. Big. Freaking. Deal. “Thanks, Greta.”

“Phew. I’m super happy you love it. I’d been nervous, like, what if you hated it and used your guitar to beat me senseless? Or, what if you assumed we were getting back in business?”

“Greta. Am I crazy?”

“I’ve seen you punch two girls in the face. At the same time, I might add.” She bit back a grin and pointed down the narrow hallway. “Kitchen is down the hall to the right. I already know your first question.”

“Obviously.” I eyed the tile and large counters, sighing in pleasure. They were perfect. “Those girls deserved it, though. Sure, we were in a mosh pit, but they pushed a girl in a cast.” I smiled at the memory.

“Your smile alone is why you’re crazy.”

I flipped her off and she closed the distance between us with open arms. “I’m damn glad you’re going to be my roomie. I’m proud of you. You beat your dad at his own game and I love you more because of that.”

“Love you, too. Now, that’s enough affection. I need to paint my room black or something.” I blinked away the emotions that bubbled up. Those words, coming from her, meant much more than she might ever realize.

“This is going to be hella fun!” she squealed and squished me for another hug.

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First For Romance

Book Review – 5 stars

Callie and Zade … a perfect match!
I loved that Callie not only enjoyed baseball, but was extremely knowledgeable of the sport. There aren’t enough Tom boys in romances. She was feisty, determined, and best of all, she didn’t give in to Zade. She made him fight to be with her, to prove he was worth her time.
Zade didn’t mind his playboy reputation until it nearly cost him the only girl who’s ever fascinated him. He’s driven, focused, but he’s never let himself fall in love… until now.
Both characters were complex and completely real. They had doubts, insecurities, hopes, dreams… just like anyone else.
I enjoyed the slow burn romance between Callie and Zade, but I especially loved their banter. Challenge Accepted is a true gem. Ms. Snowe knocked this one out of the park.

About the Author

Jaqueline Snowe

Jaqueline Snowe lives in Arizona where the ‘dry heat’ really isn’t that bad. She enjoys making lists with colorful Post-it notes and sipping coffee all day. She has been a custodian, a waitress, a landscaper, a coach and a teacher. Her life revolves around binge-watching Netflix, her two dogs who don’t realize they aren’t humans and her wonderful baseball-loving husband.

You can take a look at Jaqueline’s Website and Blog and you can also follow her on Facebook and Twitter.

Giveaway

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Notice: This competition ends on 5TH October 2021 at 12am EST. Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.

Release Blitz: Tomorrow’s Hero by Thom Collins #LGBTQ #sportsromance #eroticromance @pridepublishing @firstforromance

Tomorrow’s Hero by Thom Collins

Word Count: 32,214
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 127

Genres:

CELEBRITIES
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
SPORTS

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Book Description

 

A professional footballer with a secret. Can love conquer a lifetime of fear?

On the surface, international football star Fernando Inglesias has the perfect life—his dream career, fame, wealth and a beautiful girlfriend on his arm. At twenty-nine, Fernando has it all, but success is fragile, and one mistake could destroy everything. Fernando has a secret he will never share, something that could destroy everything he’s worked hard to achieve. There are no openly gay male footballers in the professional league, and he has no intention of becoming the first.

Ibiza…the party playground of Europe—a hedonistic island where anything is possible. On a weekend trip with the boys, love is the last thing Fernando expects to find. A chance meeting with Joshua, a handsome English visitor, changes it all. For the first time, he finds himself interested in more than sex from another guy. As Fernando and Joshua grow closer, the stakes are high on both sides as they struggle to overcome their personal differences.

Can Fernando risk his career for the sake of loving another man?

Reader advisory: This book contains themes of homophobia, a mention of suicide and references to parental neglect and abuse.

Excerpt

By eleven p.m. on Friday night, the stag party had been hard at it for thirty-eight straight hours. Since they’d arrived at the airport yesterday morning, they’d been on a relentless mission to get wasted, knocking back beers with vodka chasers before boarding the flight. Now Marc, the groom, had his hand up the skirt and his tongue down the throat of a girl he’d met less than an hour before. The best man had another woman pressed against the wall, while the tell-tale jerk of her shoulder made it clear she was giving him an over-the-trouser hand job.

Fernando Inglesias watched the tawdry display going on all around him and wondered, not for the first time that day, what the hell he was doing there. He barely knew Marc Jenner, and from what he’d seen of the groom so far, he intended to keep it that way. The rest of the group were just as bad—entitled, overgrown schoolboys behaving like this was their first trip away from home. Fernando had come along for the sake of his friend and teammate Robson, the only guy on this trip he gave a stuff about. Now Robson had his arm around the shoulder of a woman in a transparent dress. There was no need for Robson to stare so obviously at her enhanced breasts when everyone in the place could see them.

And now the women—a large hen-party they’d met in the previous bar—had tagged along and made themselves a permanent fixture. Lured by the promise of free drinks and VIP club access, it was obvious they would stick with the guys for the rest of the night, perhaps even the weekend.

Fernando knew before the flight had left London that he’d made a mistake in accepting the invitation. It had been pure hell from the start. He would make sure he was unavailable for the wedding, whenever that was.

He flinched as one of the women from the hen party made a grab for his crotch. He ducked his hips just in time to keep her from getting a good handful.

“Aww, don’t be a spoilsport,” she said, pressing her breasts against him and thrusting her knee up the inside of his thigh. “I only wanna see what all the fuss is about. Know what I mean?” Her screechy laugh cut above the unrelenting beat of generic house music.

Fernando tried to pull away, but the woman would not be shaken. She put an arm around his waist and pushed her body tight against his. She reeked of cloying, overbearing perfume and gin. Fernando turned his head to avoid the worst of the smell. Like all drunks, she had no concept of how loud she was being.

“Wass-a-matter with ya?” she shouted in his ear. “You’re in Ibiza, ain’t ya? Everyone comes here to party. Don’t be so stuck up.”

She ground her body against him almost in time with the music. Fernando looked around for help, for someone to save him from this awful woman, but all the other men in his party were enthralled by the girls. They probably thought he was having a great time.

Fernando groaned. He didn’t fit in with anyone here. Even Robson had turned into a different person since hooking up with these idiots. They had been drinking since they’d surfaced around noon and made no attempt to hide it when they took a hit of cocaine to revive their flagging spirits. He’d avoided them for much of the day, working out in the hotel gym before catching some quiet time around the pool in the afternoon, but there had been no getting out of joining them this evening. When they’d finally hit the town, Fernando had been the only sober member of the group.

“They call me Becca,” the woman hollered, fluttering her false eyelashes. She licked her lips, gazing at him lasciviously. “I know who you are. I’ve seen you in the magazines—gossip sites and all that. Always thought you was hot, but man, those pictures don’t do you justice.” She giggled, an obvious attempt at coyness. “You are so much sexier in the flesh.”

Fernando clenched his teeth. This was exactly what he didn’t want—being recognised from the trashy celebrity magazines his girlfriend paraded them through, rather than as the international striker he was. Those mags were devoured by people like Becca, who seemed to believe every word they read.

“It’s not true, is it?” she persisted. “That you’re getting married to that Pritti Parlow?”

“No,” he said, looking for an escape. The bar was packed, and he’d somehow got hemmed into the corner. He saw several camera phones trained on him and Becca. Great. A photo like that could be used to support any bullshit story the gossip sites cared to invent.

“Good,” Becca said, pressing closer. “Cause you can do much better than her. Know what I’m saying? I don’t think she’s all that special. You see her everywhere, but I don’t even think she’s that pretty, which is funny considering her name. It’s all false, ain’t it? Her tits, her hair, lips… None of it’s real. I mean, no offence and all that, but I just say what I see.”

Fernando raised his eyebrows. With her frozen forehead and the duck-like shape of her mouth, Becca’s own brand of beauty was far from natural. “I have to go. Excuse me.”

Becca gripped him tighter. “I’m a model,” she continued, undeterred. “Glamour, corporate entertaining, you know the kind of thing. I’m a friend of the bride.” She gave a dismissive wave in the direction of a woman in a pink tutu and veil. “Sort of. More a friend of a friend, but who’s gonna turn down a trip to Ibiza? It’s fucking insane, ain’t it? I love it here. Don’t you, hon?”

Fernando yanked his arm out of her grip. “It was nice meeting you,” he said without conviction. “I have to go now.”

She appeared panicked, reaching for him again, but he shrugged her off. “Why don’t I come with you? How does that sound? You and me? We could go somewhere nice and quiet. Maybe your hotel.”

“No thanks.”

“I give the best blow jobs,” she shouted, spraying him with spittle. “All the guys love it. I can suck your balls dry and make your toes curl. And that’s just for starters. First night anal. I’m that kind of girl. I guarantee a good time—the best you’ll find this weekend.”

“You know I have a girlfriend.”

“But she ain’t here, is she? What she don’t know about won’t hurt her. Besides, if it’s only a blowie, like, it hardly counts as anything, does it? An’ in Ibiza at that.”

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About the Author

Thom Collins

Thom Collins is the author of Closer by Morning, with Pride Publishing. His love of page turning thrillers began at an early age when his mother caught him reading the latest Jackie Collins book and promptly confiscated it, sparking a life-long love of raunchy novels.

Thom has lived in the North East of England his whole life. He grew up in Northumberland and now lives in County Durham with his husband and two cats. He loves all kinds of genre fiction, especially bonkbusters, thrillers, romance and horror. He is also a cookery book addict with far too many titles cluttering his shelves. When not writing he can be found in the kitchen trying out new recipes. He’s a keen traveler but with a fear of flying that gets worse with age, but since taking his first cruise in 2013 he realized that sailing is the way to go.

You can take a look at Thom’s Blog and follow him on Twitter.

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Release Blitz: Falling for You by Lea Coll #ContemporaryRomance #Forbiddenlove @LeaColl2 @greyspromo

Falling for You by Lea Coll is now live!

Callie
When I landed my dream job, I didn’t realize I’d be working with the one guy I’ve always avoided.
Jonah.
Caught off guard with a career-ending injury; he is the life and soul of every party, a likable, sociable guy on all accounts. His future relies on the success of the sports complex I’ve been hired to manage.
But…he doubts my capabilities from the get-go.
I’m tired of being underestimated, of having my capabilities judged by just my pretty face. This is my opportunity to prove everyone wrong, including Jonah.
I just never expected to fall for him, or to learn that Jonah isn’t the man he pretends to be.
Now I’m not sure if I can handle the truth.

Jonah
It only takes one injury to ruin your career and I’m not even sure I still have one. Investing in a sports complex made sense, until I realized that Callie was hired to manage it.
She’s young, beautiful and has an alluring innocence I have to remind myself to ignore. As my teammate’s personal assistant, Callie is off limits in more ways than one. She’s straight out of college, has no experience and now my future lies in her hands.
The closer we work together, the more I become captivated by her. She’s nothing like I expected her to be, but then we all hide behind masks.
Especially me.
If Callie learns the truth, both my future and my heart could be shattered.

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Meet Lea Coll

Lea Coll worked as a trial attorney for over ten years. Now she stays home with her three children, plotting stories while fetching snacks and running them back and forth to activities. She enjoys the freedom of writing romance after years of legal writing.

She currently resides in Maryland with her family. 
 
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Release Blitz: Real Players Never Lose by Micalea Smeltzer #ContemporaryRomance #SportsRomance @micaleasmeltzer @greyspromo

Real Players Never Lose by Micalea Smeltzer is now live!

I’ve heard the whispers on campus of what a player Teddy McCallister is. Most girls on campus are vying to be the one, but guys like him don’t settle down.

When he overhears that my tuition has been pulled and I’m going to basically be a college reject he makes me an offer I can’t refuse.

Be his fake girlfriend until graduation so he can get his inheritance.

It seems simple enough. I need the money and he needs someone to make him look committed.

If one thing is certain, it’s that I won’t be falling for him. But no one warned me about what happens when my fake boyfriends starts to fall for me.

Download today or read for FREE with Kindle Unlimited!
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Meet Micalea Smeltzer

Micalea Smeltzer is a twenty-something author from Northern Virginia. She has four dogs, which is as crazy as it sounds. As a recent kidney transplant recipient she’s dedicated to raising awareness around the effects of kidney disease, dialysis, and transplant as well as educating people on living donation. When she’s not writing you can catch her with her nose buried in a book.
 
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New Release & Author Interview: Penalty Kicks by D.S. Dehel #sportsromance

Penalty Kicks by D.S. Dehel

Published by Changeling Press

Cover Art by Angela Knight

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

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

Get it at Changeling Press | Add to Goodreads

Interview with D.S. Dehel

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BOOKS+COFFEE: Who published Penalty Kicks?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

About the Author

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

Release Blitz: Hollywood to Horses by Dez Schwartz #LGBTQ #contemporaryromance @dez_schwartz @ninestarpress @GoIndiMarketing

Title: Hollywood to Horses

Author: Dez Schwartz

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 06/14/2021

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 29800

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, Equestrian, Horses, Sports, Rivals to Lovers, Over 40, Gay, Bisexual, Rom Com

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Description

Mateo Harris, a retired Olympic Show Jumper, achieved just about everything he could want in life. Rising from a nobody to becoming a beloved gold-medalist, co-owning H&H Riding Academy with his cousin—and best friend—Emily Hall, and he’s one of the most powerful and respected men in his hometown of Sweetspire, VA. Nothing can shake the foundations of the life he’s built for himself. That is until he hears his nemesis and former crush, Christopher Wright II, has moved back to town.

Christopher, a runaway movie star, has returned to Sweetspire to inherit the family business: Wright Stables, the only rival riding academy Mateo has ever had to worry about. With Christopher’s charm, talent, and fame taking charge, Mateo is faced with real competition both in and out of the arena. He’ll have to be at the top of his game to prove he’s still the number one equestrian in town, but every encounter with Christopher becomes as challenging as any obstacle he’s faced on horseback.

Excerpt

Hollywood to Horses
Dez Schwartz © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Mateo Harris and his black Belgian warmblood soared over a post-and-plank obstacle, then galloped in a curve to face two gates in proximity. They leapt over both with swift ease. The final stretch sent them gliding over the triple bars as they completed the course in a flawless fashion.

Mateo’s students applauded from the fence where they each sat astride their own horses, the eagerness for a chance to try the course themselves apparent.

The solid thud beneath Mateo’s riding boots reverberated through him, a satisfying crescendo indicating the finale of his performance. He believed a rider should never consider themselves finished showing until they were no longer on horseback. Although he hated to admit to himself, the ache in his right knee also grounded him in the truth—injury and age.

Defying reality, and because of his inherent showmanship, Mateo pivoted his athletic body in one graceful movement to face his pupils.

“And that’s how you win an Olympic gold medal in show jumping,” he announced. “Any questions?”

His students applauded, and he grabbed the reigns to lead his horse out of the arena.

“Why can’t you still win them?” a snide voice rang out. “Maybe you could teach us how to not fall off our horses.” The comment, which referenced an injury he sustained at his last Olympic competition, came from a tall blonde girl, Payton Parker, who Mateo found irritating on any given day; this one especially.

Most of the students appeared to hold their breath after the bold insult as if all the oxygen of the pleasant Virginian afternoon had been depleted. Their wide eyes showed they’d never dream of saying such a thing to someone so well regarded. Known for his equestrian accomplishments in the city of Sweetspire, the waitlist to get into H&H Riding Academy—the school Mateo and his cousin, Emily Hall, ran together—was as long as his list of accolades.

A few uncontrolled giggles cropped up, and Payton smirked at him to show she found the power-play to her peers worth any repercussion.

Mateo pursed his lips and produced a warning smile as he approached Payton, taking his time to remove his black riding gloves finger by finger.

He addressed her but did so loud enough so the entire class would be sure to hear him. “Your parents pay me excessive amounts of inherited money to turn entitled leeches like yourself into professional equestrians. As if any amount of funding could ever supply you with the aptitude you so obviously, and painfully, lack. You’ll be lucky to ever win so much as a participation trophy awarded for anything other than nepotism. You’re hereby dismissed from this class, Payton. In fact, because I’m feeling particularly plucky today, you are expelled. Good day, Miss Parker. I’ll expect a call from your parents as soon as the nanny reminds them they have children.”

The same student giggles returned, this time siding with Mateo and proving to be as good as a slap in the face for Payton. Fuming, she coaxed her Hanoverian toward the exit of the outdoor arena. She shouted over her shoulder as she left. “There are other riding academies, you know! I’ll go to Wright Stables! I don’t need you to win a blue ribbon!”

“I agree. You need talent!”

Nothing made him see red faster than mention of Wright Stables, his only real local competitor.

He chided himself for being drawn into an immature argument with a spoiled teenager and moved to get his class back on task.

“If anyone else would like to be expelled today, please, negligently criticize me. Otherwise, run your courses!”

Mateo waved them off, and they rushed to begin taking turns practicing the paces.

He led his prized horse, Top Shelf, back to the stables and handed him off to a stable hand. Once out of the long corridor on the other side of the luxury barn, Mateo reached inside his navy-blue riding blazer, grabbed his flask, and threw back a swig of French vodka.

He took a deep breath of the balmy late afternoon air, letting the heat of the drink warm his chest and relax him.

He spotted Cameron Myers leaning on the fencing of a corral where he had a student practicing dressage basics. The lines from Cameron’s dancer’s muscles showed through his thin white shirt whenever he leaned forward on the railing, and he combed his fingers through his wavy chestnut hair as he shouted out instructions to the student for improvement. Cameron clapped his approval when the student followed his recommendation to the letter.

He’s a much nicer instructor than I could ever be. It’s a good thing I hired him, or my student body might be severely lacking in numbers.

Cameron raised an eyebrow once he turned to Mateo. “Little early for that, don’t you think?”

Mateo found his youthful naivety charming and smiled. “Just a light afternoon snack.”

The corners of Cameron’s eyes crinkled sympathetically. “Tough day?”

“I teach overly indulged teenage millionaires how to make an animal jump over brightly colored poles for a living.” He took another drink at the thought. “Every day is tough.”

Cameron chuckled and turned his attention back to his own student. “You know you love every minute of it.”

Mateo grinned, putting the flask away. “No, you love it. I just have an affinity for collecting dead presidents.”

“You know I don’t believe that for a second.” Cameron signaled to the young rider to start their routine over. “I wouldn’t be here if that were true.”

Appreciative of his candidness, Mateo patted Cameron’s shoulder.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Dez Schwartz is a LGBTQ, Dreampunk, & Gothic Romance author and artist based in San Angelo, Texas. She holds a BFA in Studio Art and worked as a graphic artist, and a Director’s Assistant at a fine arts museum, before transitioning to writing full-time.

Her longtime love of Victorian spiritualism, gay literary fiction, and romantic comedies inspired her to begin writing all of the stories she wished existed.

When she’s not passionately crafting tales, she can be found drawing, researching, or traveling with loved ones.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest

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