Amber Allure, K-lee Klein, RainbowCon

It’s A Countdown To RainbowCon Visit From K-lee Klein, And She’s Brought A Giveaway

TabbysPrideWhen I sat down to write this post—okay, more like fretted about it for over a week—I had no topic whatsoever in my head, so I made a list of the books I’ve written. I discovered that out of eighteen stories of varying lengths and plots, nine of them, including my new release in May, Tabby’s Pride, involve at least one musician.

The first original I wrote for public consumption was a free story called Outfoxed. I had written plenty of fanfiction that I’d shared, Alexander the Great and a lot of bandslash, so writing about musicians was something familiar to me. It came about when I chose a prompt pic in a m/m romance group on GR. I saw it and knew it was for me. Since then I’ve written a lot of musicians whether music was the main focus of the book or not.

My musicians have been as varied as the stories they’ve inhabited—wild or mellow, up-and-coming or broken, with even a couple of vampire-wolf rockstars thrown in the mix. And they exist because of my love for music and the men who make it. I’m a groupie from way back, and live music is still one of my favorite pastimes.

I also get easily obsessed with songs and lyrics, plus the creativity and passion that musicians put into their work is a big turn-on and inspiration to me. I’ve written lyrics in a few of my stories, too, most notably Unbreak My Heart and Unbroken Hearts, and I can honestly say I adore doing that.

Most songs are poetry set to music anyhow, and because I love all kinds of poetry, it was almost a natural profession for me. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have any delusions about being an actual song-writer, but I really enjoy writing emotion-filled verses.

But back to the musical characters I’ve written. There’s just something romantic about a man who sings or plays guitar, someone who is expressing their passion in a way they love, and in most cases, making people happy while they’re doing it. Whether it’s pairing a polar opposite rockstar with an average-Joe, two rock and roll hotties falling in love, a singer who gave up his dream out of grief, or a paranormal rocker mated to a witch—they’re fun and fulfilling for me to write.

So before I stop expounding my love for musical characters, here’s some info on what parts they play in my books, including my new one Tabby’s Pride.

1. Outfoxed—which I still hope to make into a full-sized novel—was about two rock band members and best friends, Rylan Rivers & Gage Galeano, in an open relationship who finally decide to take it to the next level.

2. Theme of Hearts was a short sequel to Outfoxed.

3 & 4. Lazy Sundays and Lazy Valentines—also to be made full-length in the near future-starred down-to-earth but OCD-inflicted, Scott Weston, and sweet-as-pie, hot-as-hell, metal rocker Devon Ducaine.

5. The PI & the Rockstar seems like a pretty self-explanatory title since Mason Stason was a PI and Jade Jonathan Lee was a rock/popstar.

6 & 7. Unbreak My Heart and the sequel Unbroken Hearts star former country singer Brett Taylor and city boy, JT Campbell.

8. Ali’s Intuition, the second in the Family of Misfits series, has my white witch and mama-bear of the family, Ali Arbiteur, finding his spirit mate in Kalo Petulengro who is a world-renowned rockstar.

9. Tabby’s Pride will be released from Amber Quill/Allure on May 18. It’s about a band called Lion’s Pride, so that’s also self-explanatory.

Since I’m offering an e-copy of Tabby’s Pride to one winner that won’t be out until May 18, I’ll also give the option of something on my backlist instead. Here’s the blurb for Tabby. Thanks for stopping by and I hope to see some of you at Rainbow Con. If you’re there, say hello because sometimes I can be shy.

To enter K-lee’s giveaway, just leave a comment right here and you’re eligible to win. Comments must be received by Midnight Pacific time on Friday, April 18, 2014. One winner will be selected at random on Saturday, the 19th, and notified via email for prize delivery.

Good luck!

Graphic Art by Karrie Jax

Graphic Art by Karrie Jax

Blurb: Levi Tabberton dreamed of being a rockstar ever since his brother’s best friend showed him his guitar when he was young. But being a member of Lion’s Pride has overshadowed even his goal of rockstardom.

Alexander Morrison is laid-back, caring and has taken Levi under his wing—paw—but Levi’s guilt and insecurity hold him back from letting Xan see the real him.

Levi wants to prove himself to the band and to Xan, but the lengths he’s gone to have left his mind and body exhausted and in jeopardy. Has he made the right choice or will his dreams fade in a catastrophe of lies and uncertainty?


Xan leaned forward on the table, his head cocked to the right as he stared unblinkingly at Levi. His braids fell perfectly around his face as he frowned. Levi lowered his head again, tugging on his cap until he could barely see anything.

Dammit. Everything was going to hell. Levi could just feel it in the rolling stress of his muscles, the muddled flailing of his thoughts, and the rapidly growing haste of the blood through his veins.

“Levi?” Kevin was talking to him again and Levi recognized that he was acting like a big dumb idiot. “I asked if you were one of those egos.”

“Um, no. I’m good with just going with the flow.” What a stupid thing to say.

“You look really familiar to me. Have we met before?” Xan was still gazing at him and Levi shifted a little more in his stance. He shook his head and licked across his suddenly parched lips. “Can you take the hat off, man?”

Kevin’s accent interrupted the flow of Xan’s words. “Since when are we basing this on looks, Xan? It’s an audition, not goddamn Grindr.”

Xan whispered in his ear, but it was loud enough for Levi to hear as well. “There’s just something about him.”

“Okay,” Kevin said through clenched teeth. “How about taking the hat off for a sec, mate? That okay?”

Levi’s heart dropped into his stomach and the menagerie settled there, immediately attacking. Raising a hand to his head, he gripped the brim between two fingers and tugged it off. His long, black bangs slipped over his eyes, and he habitually pushed them aside.

“You look just like…”

“Tommy,” Levi and Xan said the name at the same time and Xan quickly shoved his chair back. He shrugged Kevin’s tentative hand from his shoulder and moved to stand in front of Levi.

“Who are you? Holy fuck…Tabby? You’re Tabby Tabberton, aren’t you?”

“Not Tabby! But I used to be Malcolm, yes.” Levi took a step back when Xan invaded his personal space, their eye contact making him break out in a sweat. He also had a very uncomfortable, inappropriate urge to hump Xan’s leg. Focus, Levi, focus. “You’re the only one who ever called me Tabby, and I dropped the Malcolm. You used to be Alex back then, too.”

He just stared at Levi, all big, beautiful eyes and sexy look of wonder. If there hadn’t been anyone else in the room, Levi wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have had Xan on the floor beneath him—writhing, moaning, biting, sucking, fucking himself on Xan’s cock. With his hands balled-up into fists at his sides, he took a cautious step back, unsure of just exactly what he would or wouldn’t do.

Luckily, Kevin broke the stand-off, interrupting the pull Levi felt to get closer to Xan.

“Care to share with the class, Alex?”

“Fuck off, Kev.” Xan’s words didn’t match his look. “God, it’s been what? Three, four years?”

“Six since…” Levi tugged his hat back on as he clasped his hands behind his back, his fingers trembling with the exertion. He couldn’t say the rest, stuck with a jumble of emotions on his tongue.

Xan finished for him. “Tommy’s funeral. Wow. Can’t believe it’s been that long already, and you look so diff—”

“Xan?” Don tapped his fingers on the table. “Are we continuing or taking another break?”

Levi broke eye contact with Xan again, reaching down to curl his fingers around the handle of his guitar case. He was uncertain whether they’d even let him play now, or whether he could play at all with the highly adrenalized state of his body, but he had to take the chance. He hadn’t come so far and done so much to be turned away.

Annabelle Jacobs, Elizabeth Noble, GayRomLit, J.P. Barnaby, JR Loveless, K-lee Klein, K.A. Mitchell, L.E. Harner, RainbowCon, Scotty Cade, Sneak Peek, TC Blue

Here’s A Sneak Peek At The Coming Week

novel-approach-facebook-iconHi, everyone, I hope you all had a great week. Thanks for dropping by to see what we’ve got coming up. The most exciting thing going on this coming week for me is that Jackie and I will be heading to RainbowCon in Tampa to represent The Novel Approach, but mostly we’re going to have fun, meet with readers and authors, and get up to general shenanigans with friends.

We’ve also added two new authors to the Countdown to GayRomLit Celebration—Jacob Flores and Sherrie Henry. Jacob’s visit is coming up on April 21st, so be sure to stay tuned for that.

In the meantime, here’s what we have on tap this week:

MondayK-lee Klein comes calling for the RainbowCon Countdown Celebration, and she’s got a giveaway to go with it

TuesdayElizabeth Noble is our guest on her Electric Candle blog tour, and there’s a tour-wide giveaway

WednesdayJR Loveless joins us as our final guest in the Countdown to RainbowCon Celebration, and she’ll have little swag to give away

We also have Laura Harner with us today, as Pride Promotions presents a Book Blast and a tour-wide giveaway

ThursdayJP Barnaby is here today with a Backlist Book Bump of her Little Boy Lost series, and there’ll be a giveaway

FridayK.A. Mitchell joins us with a little Bad Influence interview and a giveaway

Remember that little peek you got at Mary Calmes’s Ears, Eggs and Bunnies? Well, today’s the day you’ll get to see the story in its entirety. It’s only a little taste of Sam and Jory, but it’s nothing less than solid proof Sam Kage still has his hands full :)

Saturday – Woohoo! The Butt Ninjas From Hell are here today. Well, not all of them, but TC Blue is here with a guest post and a tour-wide giveaway

Annabelle Jacobs is also with us to talk about her newest book in the Torsere series, Union, and there’s a giveaway

Sunday – Wrapping up the week is Scotty Cade, who’s here to talk a little bit about his latest release, Sunrise Over Savannah, and the upcoming sequel, Chasing the Horizon, and there’ll be a giveaway too

And that does it for this coming week. Until next time, happy reading!

Nicole Dennis, RainbowCon, Totally Bound

It’s Another RainbowCon Countdown Celebration Giveaway With Nicole Dennis!

Nicole Dennis is with us here today to introduce the first book in her new Southern Charm series from Totally Bound, Rules of the Chef. As part of the RainbowCon Celebration, Nicole would like to give one lucky reader the chance to win an e-copy of the book. Read on to see a yummy excerpt and the registration deadline!

The Mini-view:

1.) How did you come up with the idea for the Southern Charm series? Are you a southern girl yourself?

A. The book started as a project I tried with a fellow author, Rj Scott. It kept getting stalled thanks to other projects and timetables, so she gave it over to me. *nibbles on nails*
I’m a transplanted southern girl. I grew up in Northern NJ and moved to Florida with my folks.

2.) Does food play a role in the series? Would you consider yourself a foodie?

A. It plays a fairly decent role due to the B&B/Restaurant combo. The characters love to eat and hang out in the kitchen. I’m always adding food scenes in my books.

I’m a careful foodie since I’m on a strict regimen to control my belly illness – IBS. One wrong food and I’m in pain, so I’m always looking at recipes. Guess it influences what I write.

3.) This is a seven book series—do you have it plotted out all the way to the end? Did you find as you were writing “Rules of the Chef” that you had to alter your vision at all as the characters took shape?

A. The 7 book idea came from talking with my editor after turning in the first book. She suggested I pull it out several books and turn it in a series. All of the sudden, a few fellas from the book started yapping in my ear. They’re not plotted, but short synopses and ideas are there for each one.

Oh yes, I’m always altering things as I write. Even going back and filtering in a new line of the story because I figured out something about the character or adding in a new thread.

4.) What common traits would you say all your leading men share? What do you think makes for a great protagonist?

A. I try to keep them all compassionate and understanding of others. Sure they tease and play with one another, but there’s nothing hateful about their friends and loved ones.

A great protagonist is someone who intrigues you and you want to follow their story to the very end. You fall in love with them and want them to jump off the page and visit you in reality.

5.) Will each of the seven books feature a new couple? Will the books be able to be read as standalones, or should they be read in order?

A. Each book does feature a new couple, but due to how I structured the series the other couples are always around. I recommend reading them in order because of the integrated and continuous storylines. Plus the later couples are introduced in the earlier books so you get to know bits and pieces of them in anticipation (I hope) for their story.

6.) Would you like to share some information on your current WIPs?

A. I’m always working on more ideas than I have time to write. I’m slightly ADD when it comes to that.

A complete rework and massive expansion of a previous released book – Skylar’s Salvation – is coming. I’m hoping to re-edit/write and publish my previous released books throughout the next year.

Other than the rest of the Southern Charm series, I’m working on two new sets of 5-book serials. One will be about magical bound familiars. The other is about sentinels who watch and protect the seasons.

I have my M/M/F jaguars to continue.

Blurb: When hotelier Samuel Ashford arrives to change things, Southern Charm chef Dakota Mitchell fights against it and nothing will be the same.

Learning about the sale of his beloved home – The Southern Charm, chef and co-owner Dakota Mitchell is having a hard time with the potential changes. He wants nothing else to alter.

Chosen by his family’s company Ashford Hotels to re-create the Charm into the latest chain of boutique hotels, Samuel Ashford enters the Deep South. Inside the overgrown, run down appearance, he learns the Charm is run by people who care and love the building, the delicious food, and their guests.

Can these two put aside differences and arguments to save the Charm? Even if it means they find a little love along the way.


Dakota moved around the back hallway and the stairs to his private suite under the eaves. He needed to get dressed and return to his kitchen. At least he had some control in one part of his home.

I wouldn’t have a home if I lose my share. Shit, I would have to figure out where to create and supply a new restaurant, a place to live, and all kinds of other crap. I don’t need this pressure or stress. What a crock of horse shit! His thoughts were almost as chaotic as a smoke alarm in a quiet room. Shoving a hand through his wet hair, pushing the damp strands off his face, he used the towel to dry his hair at the back.

Climbing the stairs, he stared down at the floor while he rubbed the towel over his nape. On the top floor, Dakota went down the empty hall. He cursed in surprise when he banged into something hard. A body, it seemed, as he saw his bare feet tangled with pricey leather loafers. Feeling their combined mass go off balance, he wrapped his wet arms and towel around the other form, and twisted to take the brunt of the fall. His head rapped hard against the floor and wall after his ass hit the carpet.

“Holy hell!” There was a harsh biting ache in his hip and an answering throb in his skull.

Glancing up, his eyes a little dazed and blurry, he felt more than saw the shorter figure—a man—pressed against him. A noticeable erection ground against his lower belly and it wasn’t his. It sharpened his attention through the haze of pain and caused his cock to take notice. He groaned when their erections bumped together.

Their legs tangled—it had been one hell of a long time since he’d had the heavy weight of a guy pressing him to the floor. Unable to help himself, he breathed in the delicious cologne and soapy scent of the man before he admired the honey-highlighted brunet color of his hair. The weight of a suit and tie brushed against his skin.

“Why can’t you look out where you’re going?” the guy said. “I was clearly on one side, not even in your path.”

Dakota felt like retorting ‘Well, duh, had a freaking towel over my head’, but he didn’t. Instead he offered rational defense, “I didn’t expect anyone up on the staff and owners’ floor. I’m the one on the bottom here. You knocked me over.”

“You tangled our feet together and knocked us off balance. I had no other choice except to go down.”

Dakota forced the smaller man to roll onto the thin carpet and hardwood floor. He moved his aching erection to a different side to relive some pressure. He pressed a hand against the growing knot of pain on the back of his head. “Jeez. This isn’t what I need on top of everything else, a freaking bump and headache.”

“Are you all right?” Guest on the Wrong Floor said.

“I whacked the living hell out of my head. How do you think I am?” Dakota grinned as he looked across at Mr Uptight. “We can only blow out so much cold air to chill people off. You should lose a few layers.”

“I’m not here on vacation. This is a business visit. I’m here to oversee things and was assigned this room when I requested it. The lady at the front desk said this room wasn’t for guests.”

“Business? What kind of business? Florida businessmen are dressed in business casual. No tie required.”

“Should I presume you’re staff?”

“A little more than staff, I’m the chef and owner…co-owner of the Charm. I belong up here. Dakota Mitchell,” Dakota said. “You’re on the wrong floor.”

The man blinked caramel brown eyes. Dakota found an intense interest in the long brown lashes that surrounded them. “Samuel Ashford. I represent the new co-owner and I belong on this floor.”

“Ashford? You’re Samuel Ashford? You’re early, I wasn’t expecting you until later.”

Dakota scrambled and pushed himself well away from the gorgeous man. He backed against the wall. Sonofabitch, this is my nemesis? The guy who’s going to rip the guts out of the Charm?

“I am. Actually, I arrived a few minutes later than I expected since I couldn’t find…”

“Yeah, anyway, welcome to the Southern Charm.” He rose to his feet, twitched his shorts in place, then went to his room before the man could finish any explanations or issues with his home. At the door, he turned and stared at the slender man. Change a damn thing and I’ll wring your freaking neck. “I’ll get changed and be with you in the foyer in ten.” With that last message, he slammed the door in Samuel’s face. He could hear Samuel’s dry response even through the heavy door.

“Nice to meet you too.”


About the Author: Ever the quiet one growing up, Nicole Dennis often slid away from reality and curled up with a book to slip into the worlds of her favorite authors. Over the years, she’s created a personal library full of novels filled with dragons, fairies, vampires, shapeshifters of all kinds, and romance. Always she returned to romance. Still, there were these characters in her head, worlds wanting to be built on paper, and stories wanting to be told and she began writing them down whether during or after class. She continues to this day. Only recently has it begun to become fruitful, spreading out to let others read and enter her worlds, meet her characters, and see what she sees. No matter what she writes, her stories of romance with their twists of GLBT, paranormal, fantasy, and erotica will always have their Happily Ever Afters.

She currently works in a quiet office in Central Florida, where she also makes her home, and enjoys the down time to slip into her characters and worlds to escape reality from time to time. At home, she becomes human slave to a semi-demonic tortie calico.

Find Nicole on: Facebook | Pinterest | Blog | Twitter | Google + | Tumblr | Email

In person – I’ll be at RainbowCon in Tampa (with you and all the other wonderful authors). In October, I’ll be at GRL as a Reader, but you can still ‘attack’ me for autographs and info.

Allison Cassatta, Dreamspinner Press, RainbowCon

Allison Cassatta Is With Us Today With Another RainbowCon Celebration Giveaway!

There are only ten more days to go before the first annual Rainbow Convention kicks off in Tampa, Florida, so to celebrate the countdown, Allison Cassatta is offering the chance for one lucky reader to win an e-copy of all three books in her Sin & Seduction series. That’s Sin & Seduction, Lies & Seduction, and the just released final chapter in the trilogy, The Final Seduction.


Sin & Seduction: Book One

Dorian Grant is king of the New Orleans underworld, but he isn’t mafia and doesn’t appreciate the assumption. He’s simply a crude businessman anyone in his right mind would think twice about screwing over. Life in the Big Easy is all about sin, and violent, short-tempered Dorian has committed them all.

But not all New Orleans sins leave a bad taste in the mouth, as Dorian discovers the night a man stage-named Sweet Heat dances into his life at a club called Sin & Seduction. Dorian was expecting a hot lay. He damn sure wasn’t looking for a relationship, and certainly not with someone like Jansen, who turns Dorian’s grimly organized world upside down.

Now Dorian finds himself pressuring Jansen to quit his job because he can’t stand the thought of other men touching what’s his. Of course, Jansen wants a little quid pro quo—after all, Dorian’s job is dangerous. Jansen just doesn’t realize how dangerous until it’s too late.

Sin & Seduction: Book Two

Jason’s life sucks. First Jansen, the best friend he was in love with, gets married to a man Jason considers the scum of the earth. Then he has to deal with a coworker with a mad crush on him. He manages a deli during the day and the stage of a nightclub at night. For him, chaos is a way of life—nothing could possibly make it worse. Until he meets a presumably straight local celebrity at the club and his real problems begin.

Bradley Britt has it all: fame, a house in the suburbs, a wife, and a new baby daughter. Nobody knows it’s all a cover to hide who he really is. Jason is pure temptation for him, and he fears their first hookup won’t be the last. Even knowing he is risking his counterfeit world can’t stop him from falling for Jason. Complete honesty will endanger everything Bradley has worked for—but facing the facts is the only chance he has at true happiness.

Sin & Seduction: Book Three

Sin & Seduction is closing its doors for good, and Dorian Grant’s being arrested for murder. The world has finally spun off its axis, and everybody involved has a role to play.

In the midst of this tragedy and strife, “Golden Boy” Lance moves his heart out of no-man’s-land, thanks to a Portuguese beauty, Davi “Amante Quente,” who shakes his sweet little physique all over Sin & Seduction’s stage. But Lance can’t consider a future with someone else until he faces the issues that have kept him out of relationships in the past. His belief that love is a myth is high on that list.

Meanwhile, Jason’s relationship with Brad has turned surreally domestic. Their lives are consumed with raising Brad’s little girl. Couple that with the urgency of saving jobs, and Jason’s stress level skyrockets into the red.

Life looks grim for the Sin & Seduction crew, and it will take something close to a miracle to save them all.

Excerpt: The Final Seduction

“DORIAN GRANT, you’re under arrest for the murder of Leonard Antonio Cabrezzi.”

Dorian stood in the doorway, shoulders squared, chin held high, knowing good and well the law didn’t have a damn thing on him. Yeah, he knew Leonard Cabrezzi and had probably been seen throwing punches with the lowlife a time or two, but he sure as shit didn’t commit the crime the 5-0 were accusing him of.

Leo was the guy who’d shot Jansen and a general piece of shit in Dorian’s honest opinion. Leo’d had that bullet coming to him. Dorian’s only regret was not being the one to deliver.

“You have the right to remain silent,” the cop continued as he wrenched Dorian around by the arm. Damn near jerked it right out of the socket. “Anything you say can and will be—”

“Get the fuck off me,” Dorian demanded, yanking his arms back with a force strong enough to knock the cop right on his ass. The officer stumbled back a few steps, landing square against his partner’s chest.

With a growl, the obviously younger of the two jerked up and started forward, charging after Dorian so fast that when they connected, the force sent Dorian toppling back inside the house. The small of his back cracked the hard edge of this stupid, fancy foyer table his mom had bought back in the seventies but no one had the heart to get rid of. Damn thing was going to storage as soon as Dorian sorted all this crap out.

Pain erupted along Dorian’s backside. A stream of curses worthy of making a sailor flinch hurled from his lips. And while he wanted to tear that pig from limb to limb, Dorian had promised a long time ago to be a good boy, so he kept his hands to himself. Worst thing about all of this, he couldn’t keep Jansen from seeing any of it.

“You can’t come in here,” Dorian declared, jerking his torso and wrenching his arms. The weight of one man kept him pinned to the edge of the table. Dorian bucked and fought. Somehow they both ended up on the floor, tumbling around on the marble as if they were two kids in a schoolyard tussle.

Dorian could hardly move. The cop locked around him had him by a good fifty pounds and probably five inches of height, which didn’t sound like much until everyone was horizontal. Then, a body had a habit of turning to deadweight fast.

“Get the fuck off me!”

“Son,” the gray-haired cop standing over the fray in the floor said, “we can do what we want. We can tear this place apart and say we had a hard time findin’ ya. Know why?” Dorian glared, and the other man grinned wider as he held up a very official-looking document. “This here warrant says we can.”

The first cop pushed up off him, and Dorian lay with back flat against the floor, staring up at Jansen, who looked like he was about to burst into tears. Well, that just pissed Dorian right off. No one was going to come into his house, interrupt his romantic evening, and bring tears to his husband’s eyes. No way in hell.

“Fuck you, cop.” He pushed his elbows against the cool floor. “I want my lawyer.”

A boot connected with Dorian’s chest, putting him right back against the marble.

“Stop it!” Jansen screamed. “You’re hurting him!”

By God, the pain in Jansen’s voice was enough to crush Dorian’s hardened heart. By the look on his face and the glisten in his eyes, Jansen couldn’t deal with seeing Dorian being bullied the way he was. Dorian couldn’t deal with not soothing the man he loved.

At least the cops backed off. They didn’t help him up from the floor, but they stopped beating him down like a felon trying to resist. They left him lying there, sucking wind and holding his chest. By then, every inch of his body had started to throb. Older age was catching up, apparently. Revenge was looking rather tasty.

“Can I see the warrant?” Jansen asked rather calmly, holding out his hand.

Dorian knew damn well Jansen wouldn’t know the difference between a genuine, court-issued, judge-signed warrant for his arrest versus a fake made by one of Dorian’s many enemies. But he also knew that, if nothing else, his husband could put on a damn good show. That’s what he did. That’s what he was best at… performing.

The gray-haired officer slapped the paper against Jansen’s palm. Dorian climbed back to his feet and eased in next to his husband so he could look the paper over. Both cops kept one hand on their guns, as if Jansen or Dorian would do anything. Sure, Dorian had been a bad guy for a long time, but he’d backed off his criminal ways a while ago, even before they’d gotten married. He didn’t act like a freakin’ thug anymore. He was just a businessman who wanted to provide for his family.

“Dor,” Jansen said, voice quivering. “It’s the real thing.” He’d said it like a statement, but Dorian knew Jansen needed confirmation, that those trembling words were really a question Jansen needed to have answered. Dorian gave a little jerk of the chin, a subtle nod he knew Jansen would catch but everyone else would probably miss. “They have it signed by the judge and everything,” Jansen added for good measure. “You, um… you….”

As Dorian sucked in a breath so deep it made his big, tattooed chest expand, he closed his eyes and lowered his head, scrubbed his hand down his face, then exhaled. He had to resign himself to the idea of being behind bars. He’d come close to being thrown in jail before, and done enough shit to deserve a few years in prison, but the closest he’d ever come was a night here and there just to quench his temper. Nothing like this, though. Nothing close to being charged with murder.

“Fine,” Dorian said, raising his chin and squaring his shoulders. Being thrown in a cage like an animal didn’t scare him. He could protect himself. He hated the idea of losing his freedom, of not being able to keep Jansen safe, but he could do this with dignity.

“Baby, I need—”

“Can I at least get him a shirt?” Jansen asked in a low, shattered voice as if he hadn’t heard Dorian speaking at all.

“We should take him like this,” the younger cop said.

“No,” the gray-haired guy immediately responded. “There’s that stupid civil rights shit you rookies don’t know nothin’ ’bout.” He looked over at Jansen. “Make it quick. We ain’t waitin’ long.”

Dreamspinner Press, LE Franks, MLR Press, RainbowCon, Wilde City Press

The Grand Adventures Of A “Last First Kiss” – A RainbowCon Countdown Post By LE Franks

Last First Kiss is probably the most personal story I’ve written to date.

Last summer I got a call, like so many others have gotten before me. An old friend from high school had attempted suicide. Thankfully, he survived and recovered, mostly. But those first few days of helping support his brother and tracking down the rest of our mutual friends was a nightmare.

So I began channeling my feelings into my writing; it’s what we do to cope. I started a story of three friends, closer than brothers, who grow up together, planning their lives after high school…until a kiss tears the trio apart. It takes ten years and a tragedy to bring my MC back home.

I opened it with a funeral scene drawn from a well of painful memories from the services of my grandparents—events fatally flawed by either political infighting amongst church elders (in the case of my beloved grandmother) or indifferent pastoral neglect (in the case of my maternal grandfather). Writing this scene was cathartic. As my friend improved, so did my mood. I eventually set the work aside, only a few pages in, but it began to haunt me, reminding me of its unfinished state.

When I heard about the anthology, I knew I wanted to write something special for Eric and TJ, and the story I’d begun six months earlier popped into my mind. It might seem like an odd choice to dedicate to these men I admire so much—a story around loss and tragedy—but I realized that this couple would be the last ones bothered by darker themes.

Their capacity for love, their understanding of the human condition as evidenced by their own writings, and their humor in the face of life’s worst jokes are just some of the reasons why I admire them both so much and was compelled to give them the best I could, which meant finishing Last First Kiss—a story of enduring friendship despite fear and heartbreak. It’s about finally coming home and facing the truth and finding love.

There are three kisses in the story. The first one tears the friends apart, the second is a kiss of absolution and goodbye, but it’s the last one that contains the power of hope for a future filled with love.

The Blurb:J. Jeremiah Jones, Danny Anderson, and Henry Keller have been best friends since second grade, but on the day the three are slated to move into their college dorm, J. sees the other two exchange a kiss. J. makes assumptions, and without sparing a moment to find out if he’s right, he flees rather than become a third wheel in their relationship. It takes a tragedy to bring J. back home, where he learns the truth about that day, that kiss, and himself.

The Excerpt: Last First Kiss by LE Franks

“WHAT DOES a gunshot sound like from inside a car?”

Henry gave me an odd look before leaning in to whisper in my ear, “This is not the place, J.” I twitched away from him and jerked at the silver-and-blue-striped tie my sister Aggie had wrestled over my head in the parking lot. There was a pale-yellow spot resting over my diaphragm, and I became fixated on watching it surf my chest until I couldn’t resist lifting it to my nose.

It smelled old and warm and musty—like the odor seeping from an abandoned closet in an old lady’s house. I sniffed again at the yellow spot, but instead of the acrid residue of yellow mustard, there was the lightest hint of the vanilla lotion that always seemed to kiss Aggie’s skin. I picked at the spot with the corner of my nail until Henry slapped my hand away.

“Was it loud? Did it hurt his ears before…” …that bullet killed his brain…? There was a gasp from the pew behind me, and I guessed maybe I’d said that last bit out loud too. I rubbed my side where Henry had just twisted my skin like so much bread dough. I scooted a little farther away from Henry and his fingers.

“Was the window broken?” This time I did ask Henry. I asked him under my breath, just a whisper next to his hard jaw, the muscle there jerking in sympathetic cadence with the preacher’s liturgy. I watched color wash across his cheekbones before disappearing altogether and realized that Henry might actually know the answers to these questions.

“I need you to shut up now, J. I need you to fuckin’ shut up.” It was almost a moan—the sound he made that lifted the vowels out of his mouth, warping them to form a curse, settling onto my skin. Henry folded in half next to me like a crash test dummy—his head resting on an arm bent awkwardly across his lap. I wanted to poke it just to make sure he was still real. Instead, I went back to fiddling with my tie, twisting it between my fingers. Henry stayed down.

Mrs. Jenson leaned over the back of the pew to pat him softly, like he was a dog, and the urge to brush the blue-veined hand off Henry’s back rose like an angry demon from a dark place deep inside. Henry wasn’t mine. He wasn’t anyone’s, as far as I knew. Not anymore.

It had been years since high school graduation and our last moments together that summer—before kicking the dust of this backwater town off my shoes meant abandoning them. I was really in no position to object.

I looked around carefully, just to see if I’d missed someone staring at us, at our weird tableau of shared grief, but all eyes seemed to be fixed on the man standing behind the mahogany casket.

Pastor Richards was leading a call and response. And I’m sure it was all very heartfelt—the congregation perfectly parroting Richards’s diction—but I hadn’t opened the pale-blue program. I wasn’t in the mood, half-afraid of the response I’d give when prompted.

You fucking bastard. You goddamned fucking selfish bastard.

Henry jerked upright the second the thoughts flashed in my head, and I panicked a second, wondering if I’d said that out loud as well, but there was no stirring from the darkly clad women in their Sunday finest. Their floral hats sat proudly atop iron-gray curls like ceremonial headdresses. They surrounded the two of us, just like the Sioux at Little Big Horn did just before they invited the 7th Cavalry to dance; all their faux condolences were like arrows to my heart.

I felt my fist covered by Henry’s warmth. Had he taken residence inside my head, reading my mind again? The last thing I needed was to have Henry poking around, moving boxes and upending trunks filled with the memories of the three of us and so carefully sealed against time, pain… and regret.

I jerked away, dropping the crumpled wad of blue paper on the pew between us, and closed my eyes. The pastor’s monotone droned through the scripture reading of I Thessalonians 4: 13-14. Paul’s admonition to believers not to grieve, as those who do not believe do, was another dig.

Working the tie again, I tried to block out the sounds around me before they filled my mouth, my nose, my ears, even my eyes, sealing the words off inside me, burying me alive like a human sacrifice to my grief.

Henry peeled my fingers from around the mangled polyester, moving my hand away from my body and pressing it flat against his leg. It was warm and hard.

I could feel the muscles shift under the pressure, and it reminded me of the horse we’d rented together when we were fifteen, all three of us sitting bareback atop the dun-colored gelding. Since I was the smallest, Henry had slung me over the poor beast’s neck first, and I sat perched on its bony shoulders while the two of them scrambled to find their places.

Henry, as usual, finally sat back on the rump, his long arms wrapping around the two of us, keeping us together—holding us in place was always Henry’s job.
No wonder he was falling apart.

Humpty-Dumpty had left the building, and there’d be no picking up the pieces this time—Danny had made sure of that.

Fucking bastard.

The fingers lying on top of mine suddenly curled inward, sliding against the tender skin in between. It wasn’t until Henry was holding my hand that I noticed the shaking, and I couldn’t tell which one of us was to blame.

~ * ~

LE Franks Biography: LE Franks is an author of Gay Romance fiction, living in the SF Bay Area surrounded by inspiration; and after years of ignoring the voices in her head, she’s now giving them free reign in the form of her characters.

Also By:

Can this Be Real, MLR Press (Coming Soon)
6 Days to Valentine, Wilde City Press
Snow Globe, Dreamspinner Press
Prodigal Wolf, Book One, Wolves and Waves Series with Sara York, MLR Press

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A Sneak Peek At The Coming Week, A.J. Corza, Abigail Roux, Anyta Sunday, Chris Cox, Chris O'Guinn, Cover Reveal, GotYouCovrd, Jaime Reese, JC Wallace, JL Merrow, Joy Lynn Fielding, Julie Lynn Hayes, LE Franks, RainbowCon, RJ Scott, Therese Woodson

Here’s A Sneak Peek At The Coming Week

Greetings, everyone, we hope you’ve had a quiet and relaxing weekend. We’ve got another great week ahead, filled with author visits, interviews, giveaways, and reviews, so go ahead and take a gander at what’s on tap!

MondayAbigail Roux is our guest today on the Ball & Chain Blog Tour. She’s answered a few interview questions about herself, Ty, Zane, and the gang, so be sure to check it out

TuesdayJL Merrow arrives on the Relief Valve Blog Tour, and she’s bringing along a giveaway

Jaime Reese also pops in with a Cover Reveal of, and excerpt from, her upcoming release A Hunted Man, Book Two in The Men of Halfway House series

Wednesday – Author Chris O’Guinn’s arrival is imminent on his Hybrids: Arrival Blog Tour. We’ve got an Interview and Giveaway for his visit

Anyta Sunday is also our guest today on her Liam Davis and the Raven Blog Tour and Giveaway

And, A.J. Corza’s back with another great installment of Got You Covered

ThursdayJoy Lynn Fielding is our guest on her Shifting Sands Blog Tour, and we’ve got a great interview lined up for you

FridayChris Cox drops by on the When Sean Loves Rusty Blog Tour, and there’s a giveaway

Therese Woodson will also be our guest on the Clockwork Horizon Blog Tour, which includes a giveaway of an e-copy of the book

SaturdayLE Franks is our guest as we continue on with the RainbowCon Celebration fun

Julie Lynn Hayes will also be along with a guest post on her Yes, He’s My Ex Blog Tour

Sunday – Finally, last but certainly not least, JC Wallace stops by on the Curiosity Killed Shaney Blog Tour

The Novel Approach is also participating in author RJ Scott’s Autism Awareness Blog Hop today, and we’ll have a giveaway to go along with it

And that does it for a very full week of fun. Until next week, happy reading!

RainbowCon, VJ Summers

It’s Another Countdown To RainbowCon Visit – Welcome VJ Summers

So. What happens when you take an ornery box of novelty bubbles and add one less than coordinated author working past her bedtime? Major boo-boo’s, that’s what! But not even a slight concussion can dim my excitement about RainbowCon – and about the fantastic new book I have coming out with the extremely talented Lex Valentine just in time for RainbowCon!

When Lex approached me at the beginning of the year with the idea for a co-written serial, set in a dystopian America where the war between the “haves” and “have nots” has turned literal, I got excited. When she mentioned she’d like to write about James Bond-esque heroes, I got even more excited. Then she added the magic “word” BDSM, and I was SO there, you have no idea!

So, coming to an e-reader near you, mid-April (this’ll probably be on me – my head incident has me a week behind on everything…) is Partners, Book 1 in the Shadows & Kink world. I hope you will all love it as much as Lex and I do! AND I really hope you’ll come see me at RainbowCon – get some novelty bubbles (I promise, the blood was only on the outside of the one box, and I didn’t use that one!), check out one of my other M/M titles (I’ll have coupon-codes so you can purchase the ebook from me and download directly from Ellora’s Cave – how cool is that?), and get the chance to pick up all sorts of cool, fun stuff!

In the meantime, check out our boys, Ian and Travis. They. Are. Awesome!


TDA agents Travis Wilder and Ian Hawke are fuck ups. As members of an elite agency that battles terrorism in a world that has lost its political, economic and even social infrastructre, the agents are highly trained to find and neutralize dangerous terrorists. But neither Travis nor Ian have been able to complete a mission successfully in recent months. Travis has a penchant for killing his targets while Ian beds them. In an effort to save his two best agents, their handler makes them partners. However, making these two men live and work together forces issues from their pasts to the surface.

Ian, with his upper-crust British accent and flirty behavior is everything that attracts Travis and repels him at the same time. For Ian, the taciturn, domineering former Force Recon officer represents a temptation he knows better than to succumb to. But working and living together builds a unique bond between the two. As sexual tension spirals higher between them, as their secrets and kinks are revealed, their need for each other becomes undeniable. They’re two broken men forced into a partnership neither of them wanted…a partnership guaranteed to be their salvation or their destruction.


(Highly UN-edited, so bear with me)
Coming off a less than stellar mission, Travis finds Agent Ian Hawke, lying in wait for him. His first impression is less than fantastic.

The locker room at the gym stood empty. Travis smiled a little. Nothing like the dinner hour to clear a building of his gossipy co-workers. He stripped off his clothes, stuffed them into a plastic laundry bag and shoved them into a corner of his duffle. Stepping into the hot water he showered off the grime and blood of the botched mission, but not the wary sense that this third mistake would cost him. The tension in his gut tightened. He shut off the water and a sound so slight he might have imagined it had his SIG in his hand in a split second, the barrel poking around the tiled corner.

A man in a tuxedo stood there, one dark brow cocked up as his gaze slid with obvious admiration over Travis’ naked, wet body.

“Well, when Harris sends me to do his dirty work, the view isn’t usually this fascinating,” he murmured in a cultured British accent.

The accent gave him away. Travis knew of only one operative who had one. He’d never met or seen the guy, but he’d heard the gossip, just like he’d heard the gossip about himself. Ian Hawke had had a run of bad luck missions just like Travis, only in Ian’s case he wasn’t killing his targets. He’d been sleeping with them.

Travis didn’t believe in keeping your friends close and your enemies closer. He had a limited supply of friends and family and he distanced himself from them because of his enemies. His enemies…well, the truth of the matter was, he figured he had too many of those to keep tabs on. He just generally subscribed to the idea that anyone could be out to get him and he never let down his guard. The shrinks at TDA had labeled him as paranoid. He considered that a good call on their part. He couldn’t fathom sleeping with a target the way Ian did. His paranoia wouldn’t allow him to get that physically close unless it was to kill.

“I thought I was in trouble when Harris sent me to find you, but instead I’m getting a reward.”

The husky, flirty sound of Ian’s voice sent an unwanted frisson of awareness down Travis’ spine. It had been a long time since anyone had made his libido stand up and take notice. He didn’t appreciate it noticing an operative with a rep for fucking anything that moved.

Grabbing his towel, he wrapped it around his waist without setting down his gun. He stalked to his duffle to dry off and get dressed, completely ignoring Ian’s admiring gaze and his flirty comments, but not turning his back on the guy either. His SIG stayed within easy reach and he knew Ian had noticed. Not that he cared. He didn’t trust anyone including a fellow operative.

By the time he buttoned his fly, Ian had come closer. Under the guise of tying the laces on his boots, Travis snuck a good look at the other operative. At first glance, he’d seemed almost slender and on the small side, but looks could be deceiving.

Travis held back a snort at thinking of the guy as smaller, but in the context of Travis’s six foot four-inch fame, most men were smaller. However, Ian Hawke stood at least six feet tall which couldn’t be mistaken as small by any stretch of the imagination. The illusion of being much smaller came from his build. Ian had the lean build of a swimmer. He moved with a liquid grace that Travis had only ever seen a gymnast or ballet dancer exhibit. The cut of his tuxedo screamed designer label, custom tailored, and Travis knew it hid the other man’s muscle and strength.

With his flirty demeanor and pale eyes filled with what could only be termed a hot expression, the man broadcasted his sexuality loud and clear. Not that Travis had any objection to the Brit being gay. He swung that way himself with a one notable caveat. Besides being gay, Travis had a penchant for leather.

Unable to stop himself, he quickly glanced at Ian’s crotch. Standing with his hands thrust deep into his pockets, the black material of his trousers stretched over a prominent bulge that Travis found he couldn’t ignore. Not that he let on to Ian that he’d been looking. The untangling of a stubborn lace gave him a great cover.

When he finally stood and jerked a thermal Henley shirt over his head, Travis discovered that Ian’s bottom lip had taken up residence between white, even teeth. A slight flush stained the other man’s cheekbones too. Somehow, Travis had the notion that Ian could have controlled his reactions better if he’d wanted or needed to. Why the man had chosen to show Travis what appeared to be a genuine appreciation for Travis’s body was anyone’s guess. But Travis didn’t deal in guesswork. He dealt in absolutes.

“You said Harris wanted to see me?” he asked, his voice gruff as he hid his own untoward interest in the other operative.

Broad shoulders shrugged, the movement slow and refined. “I didn’t. I said he sent me to find you. However, it appears I now owe him one.”

Travis drew a breath and counted silently to ten. He might find himself inexplicably attracted to Ian Hawke, but he wasn’t about to let the guy know that, not when he couldn’t even get a straight answer out of him.

“Did Harris send you to find me because he wants to see me?” Travis tried to hide his annoyance but the effort was token at best.

Ian’s dark brows rose. Travis tried not to think what a great contrast the man’s pale skin made with his swathe of dark hair.

“He wants to see both of us. I know why he’s requesting your presence in his office. I was with him when he viewed the feed of the mission you just completed.”

Ian’s impressions of Travis are a little more favorable…

Their evaluation in hand to hand combat was…interesting.

Roven had decided to test them individually before setting them loose on each other. Travis went first, to Ian’s eternal gratitude. He needed some time to drag his mind back from the fucking unnecessary guided meditation.

Travis proved to be a more than competent fighter. He met Roven’s basic boxing moves cleanly, and even showed more than a bit of ability to improvise when the trainer started to ignore the rules of polite combat. Ian heartily approved because, if he or Travis ever found themselves in a situation where physical combat was necessary, he sincerely doubted their opponents would be concerned with fighting fair.

Travis’ technique was all clean lines and efficient movements. Economical. There was a kind of stark grace to it that Ian couldn’t help but appreciate. The gleam of sweat on Travis’ shoulders and the way his tense body accentuated every curve of muscle didn’t hurt, either. And it was a brilliant distraction from the hissing that had started in the back of his brain during his meditation.

So, yeah. He wouldn’t bitch too badly about letting Travis have his back. Particularly since it was day one of their training, and he expected the Cowboy would rapidly improve with the intensive practice.

Then it was Ian’s turn. He’d thought he’d gotten himself back under control. He’d thought he’d purged all memories of poor, virginal Del from his mind. He’d been ready to face the trainer right up until the man opened his mouth.

“So, I’m not sure if you just had the most successful meditation I’ve ever seen, or the least.”

Ian blinked—the only outward reaction he’d allow himself— and cocked his head questioningly.

Roven paused in his emotional torture to inflict a little physical irritation, checking Ian’s impact helmet and the tape on his knuckles before speaking again.

“I’ve just never seen someone come through the entire thing so tense. You were practically vibrating there at the end.”

“I’m not a particularly introspective man,” he answered, lifting his hands for the customary fist bump before they started.

Rovan shrugged and took up a defensive stance. “If you say so, Hawke. You looked pretty deep under to me, though. Deep under something not so nice.”

Later, Ian wouldn’t be able to explain why those words tripped the trigger they did, but by the time he and Roven were done sparring, he was drenched in sweat, dripping blood from a gash over his eyebrow and a split lip, and ridiculously thankful that the physical pain was helping to relieve some of the emotional crap floating around in his head now. Each drop of blood seemed to drain a drop of tension, of poison, from his body.

He looked bad by the end of the match, no denying that. But, to his infinite satisfaction, so did the trainer.

“Feeling better now?” Roven asked, swiping his bloody chin with the back of his hand.

Yes? No? He couldn’t say it was “better”, but Ian was feeling something. He didn’t know whether to be grateful that he still had the ability to feel, or pissed that he was still not the perfect fighting machine.

“Okay,” Roven said, after indulging in a long, searching look into Ian’s eyes. “You both clearly know your way around a fight, but at this point I don’t think you’re equally matched. So, tomorrow after meditation I’m going to set you up on some equipment first.” He gave Ian a look. “Give you the chance to work off some frustration, then see what happens when you spar against each other.”


Ian went out that night.

He smiled politely when Travis mentioned dinner, declined, and locked himself in his room until it was late enough to hit Hasteings without being unfashionably early. When he emerged, wrapped in black leather, mascaraed and be-glittered Travis was, oddly enough, planted in front of the ridiculously large television…playing a first-person shooter video game.

“Don’t you get enough of that in real life?”

Travis looked up and Ian had the pleasure of watching the man’s eyes go wide, then wider, as they took in his club gear. He shook his head, and those full, tempting lips flattened in what could only be a disapproving line.

“Mindless, harmless fun, Hawke. We all need some of that.”

“Indeed we do, Cowboy.” Oh, the man did not like that nickname if the narrowing of his eyes was anything to go by. “In fact,” he hurried on, moving toward the door, “I’m off for some mindless fun right now.”

He paused and gave Travis another long look. Faded jeans worn almost white at the seams hugged thick thighs and cupped a promising bulge between them. An even more faded olive drab t-shirt strained against the width of his shoulders and chest, while falling looser around his waist.

He wouldn’t fit in at all, still…

“You could join me.”

Now Travis’ eyes went so wide they reminded Ian of a cartoon character. And, honestly, he didn’t want Travis to come—at least, he didn’t think he did—so there was no way he was disappointed when the Cowboy wordlessly shook his head no.

“Ah, well, then. Don’t wait up.” With a cheery, if somewhat phony, smile, Ian slipped through the door and away from the ambiguous lure of a night at home with his…roommate.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: When not working the EDJfH (Evil Day Job from Hell), obsessing over whether her parents are getting enough to eat, obsessing that her kid is sexting the boyfriend, making coffee, drinking coffee, or feeding the two cats who allow her to live with them, VJ can be found reading or writing erotic romance – either solo as m/m author VJ Summers, or as the short half of the “Violet Summers” writing team (the tall half is Sierra Summers). You can find her books at Changeling, Phaze, Liquid Silver and Ellora’s Cave.

You can find VJ Summers on her Blog, Facebook, and Twitter

Kindle Alexander, RainbowCon, Reviewed by Jackie, Self-Published

The RainbowCon Countdown Celebration Continues Today With Kindle Alexander And A Giveaway

It’s a convergence of the Countdown to RainbowCon Celebration and Kindle Alexander’s Always Blog Tour at The Novel Approach today, as we welcome Kindle, feature Jackie’s lovely review, offer you a trailer video for the book, and point you toward a great giveaway!

“’Always’ is a good word to believe in.” ― Susan Abulhawa

Title: Always

Author: Kindle Alexander

Publisher: Self-Published

Pages/Word Count: 280 Pages

Rating: 4.5 Stars

Blurb: Born to a prestigious political family, Avery Adams plays as hard as he works. The gorgeous, charismatic attorney is used to getting what he wants, even the frequent one-night stands that earn him his well-deserved playboy reputation. When some of the most prominent men in politics suggest he run for senate, Avery decides the time has come to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps. With a strategy in place and the campaign wheels rolling, Avery is ready to jump on the legislative fast track, full steam ahead. But no amount of planning prepares him for the handsome, uptight restaurateur who might derail his political future.
Continue reading

Eleanor Bruce, Extasy Books, HL Holston, RainbowCon

H.L. Holston And Eleanor Bruce Celebrate The Countdown To RainbowCon With A Giveaway

Hi! We’re Eleanor and Holly, the writing team of H.L. Holston and Eleanor Bruce. We’re extremely excited to be attending Rainbow Con in Tampa next month. It will be our very first writer’s convention, so if you are coming, please be sure to stop by our table, say hello and grab some free swag. (We’ll also be giving away a gently-used Kindle Fire, books and an Amazon gift card!)

We’re never sure what to write for these types of blog posts. Do you promote your book, yourself or perhaps both? Last time we did this, Eleanor and I talked about our undying love of all things Springsteen. :) But today, we decided to delve into the topic of werewolves since we are currently writing a series entitled, Werewolves of Baltimore.

Twilighticon776We never thought we’d be writing about shifters, since Eleanor and I both love vampires; we cut our teeth on Anne Rice’s Interview with a Vampire novels. Plus, I was always Team Edward, not Team Jacob, as a Twilight fan. (Hear that laughing over there, that’s Eleanor mocking me for my great love of all things Robert Pattinson.)

Our first paranormal book, The Moon’s Dirty Light is set in Baltimore. The protagonists are both cops, they’ve been partners for years, but only recently became lovers. One’s keeping a secret…he’s a werewolf and during their last little romp, Logan passed along that trait to Dylan. Who when he finds out, is not happy at all he’s going to be turning into a furry beastie come the next full moon. Add in a serial killer, knotting, bonding and a few other tropes, and you got the first novel in our series.

To celebrate us attending Rainbow, we’re doing a giveaway. Eleanor and I are offering up BOTH books in the Werewolves of Baltimore series, The Moon’s Dirty Light and Beneath the 13th Moon on The Novel Approach. Please use the Rafflecopter link to enter.

Thank you, and hope to see you in Tampa!

Holly and Eleanor
Twisting tropes since 2013!

Available From Extasy Books


Full moon fever.

Is there ever a good time to tell the man with whom you just had mind blowing sex that you’re a werewolf and, chances are, come the next full moon, he’ll be sporting fur and fangs too?

Police Officer Logan Robinson isn’t sure. Logan’s been in lust with his partner and best friend Dylan Reed for as long as he can remember. But Logan is a werewolf and after accidentally giving his partner the mating bite during sex Dylan will become one too.

Dylan is royally pissed when he finds out because Logan conveniently forgot to mention his little affliction until after they’d spent the night humping each other’s brains out. As if turning into a creature of the night wasn’t enough, Logan and he are investigating murders that look suspiciously like dog-attacks, but they’re not.

Finding a killer is tricky enough. Now it will be almost impossible with their personal issues clouding the investigation. And if Dylan does turn into a four-legged freak at the next full moon, the fur will fly.



Eleanor has been a professional business writer since 1989 and an amateur fiction writer for over fifteen years. She never considered writing fiction professionally until her friend, H.L. Holston, asked for her help with a short story. From there, Eleanor has gone on to write two books and another short story with Holly. She hopes that someday she can quit her job and write full-time. Until then, she juggles her responsibilities with varying levels of success.

H.L. Holston (Holly) is a teacher by day and a sometimes author by night. She dreams up ideas with her writing partners Sue (they write as Sue Holston) and Eleanor Bruce, but occasionally she ventures out on her own. She admits she is a horrible blogger, even worse at keeping up on Facebook and wishes she could retire to New Orleans and eat beignets every day at Café du Monde. Until then, she will write books about sexy men loving each other.

Holly’s web site


The Giveaway: Enter for a change to win an e-copy of both The Moon’s Dirty Light and Beneath the 13th Moon.

Dreamspinner Press, RainbowCon, Sue Brown

The RainbowCon Festivities Continue With Sue Brown, And There’s A Giveaway!

Thank you, Lisa, for having me here!

In one month I’ll be in America at Rainbow Con. I booked to go at the start of 2013 so I can’t quite believe it’s arrived. It’s been a hell of a year and I’m really looking forward to this as a chance to let my hair down. Linda, get your Sharpie ready, and Jordan, mine’s a G&T at the bar.

I’ve finally got around to ordering swag. I’ll be honest, I’m only bringing pens. At the UK Meet I brought tissues and Maltesers, which went down very well, but the tissues are heavy and I don’t fancy bringing melting chocolate across the Pond.


I’m now getting used to the idea of conventions. The first time I went to one I nearly bolted at the front door of the hotel. But I pulled up my big girl panties (my step-mother buys them for me), stepped over the threshold and had a fantastic time. It took me a short time to realise there were lots of nervous people there and the best thing I could do was say the magic words.

“Hello, I’m Sue.”

Big girl panties

I’m thrilled to be at the inaugural Rainbow Convention. I’ve never been to the first of anything before. I’ve been watching the author list increase with interest. I’m thrilled that some of my favourite friends and authors are going to be there. I get a chance to hang out with Facebook friends and fangirl authors. I have my pen ready to get some autographs. I have a mission at Rainbow Con. I want to say hello to everyone at the con, even if it’s only once.

If you’re going to be there and you get accosted by a short, dumpy woman with a London accent, that’s me. No, I don’t talk like Dick Van Dyke or even Julie Andrews. If you’ve watched Torchwood I sound a bit like Owen. So, see you next month, guys, I’m looking forward to meeting you.

Frankie & Al

BLURB: Dumped by his boyfriend, Frankie Mason goes out with the girls, gets totally trashed, and ends his night by falling in front of a taxi. He’s rescued by a man with beautiful green eyes who takes care of him until he’s put into an ambulance. Frankie curses himself as he realizes he doesn’t have the man’s phone number. Still in pain a few days later, he is dragged out to a club only to be saved by Green Eyes once more. This time, he isn’t letting the man go.

Unfortunately Frankie has to attend a team-building exercise, nicknamed Womb Weekend, organized by his company. Al is working so he doesn’t mind, until he discovers who the team leader is. Al has a lot of explaining to do!


Dawn had arrived with a pale pink-and-blue sky, and thankfully no rain. Frankie decided to walk home, relaxed and full, and ready to sleep. At this time of the morning, he could cut off a few minutes by walking through the station concourse without negotiating hundreds of tourists.

He stepped off the curb, and after that, he wasn’t sure what happened except his world spun crazily out of control. He heard the sound of a car horn, and Frankie was thrown off his feet, only to land on the ground, an excruciating pain in his hip.

What the fuck?

“He just stepped out in front of me. You saw that, didn’t you? He didn’t look at all. He was probably after a score.”

Frankie opened his eyes and glared at the man standing over him. “Thanks for your concern, arsehole, but I’m not a druggie. Give me your phone number, address, and insurance details,” he said brusquely. At least, he aimed for brusque rather than weak and feeble.

The man sniffed and vanished out of sight. Frankie contemplated getting up. On the other hand, the ground was comfortable and he had nowhere to be.

“An ambulance is on its way. You have a habit of getting into trouble, don’t you?”

Frankie turned his head to deny the charge and was fixed by the most beautiful green eyes he had ever seen. “Take me home,” he said and was rewarded with a smile from the man.

“Huh, a faggot. Might have known.”

The driver was really getting on Frankie’s nerves. “Give me the details and then you can get lost.”

A hand squeezed Frankie’s, and Green Eyes said, “Give me the details. You can talk to the police and I’ll look after my boy here, before he gets into any more trouble.”

“Frankie,” Frankie said.


“My name’s Frankie.” Frankie gave a melting smile to the nice man with dark hair and gorgeous green eyes. Then he glared at the driver. “That’s Mr. Lawsuit to you.”

“Listen, you little—”

Green Eyes sighed. “How the hell did you manage to get to adulthood, Frankie? The ambulance is here, thank God.”

Frankie was really pleased because fuck knows the pain in his hip was hurting like a bitch, and no one seemed to give a shit about him, and his mum would wash his mouth out with soap and water if he kept swearing, and….

His brain shut off as Green Eyes kissed him.

“What the…?” he said faintly.

“You were talking again, Frankie. It seemed the best way to shut you up.”

AUTHOR BIO: Sue Brown is owned by her dog and two children. When she isn’t following their orders, she can be found plotting at her laptop. In fact she hides so she can plot, and has become an expert at ignoring the orders.

Sue discovered M/M erotica at the time she woke up to find two men kissing on her favorite television series. The series was boring; the kissing was not. She may be late to the party, but she’s made up for it since, writing fan fiction until she was brave enough to venture out into the world of original fiction.

Sue can be found at her website,; her blog,; Twitter,; and her Facebook,


Grace R. Duncan, RainbowCon

Grace R. Duncan Continues The Countdown To RainbowCon Celebration With A Giveaway

Thank you so much to Lisa for hosting me for the countdown to RainbowCon! I am so excited about going and look forward to meeting lots of wonderful people there. Today, I’ve brought out a deleted scene from my upcoming title No Sacrifice that turned into a side story for my beta for her birthday. I’d like to introduce Patrick and Chance. Patrick is an actor who’s been forced to recognize his sexuality when he starts reacting to his male costar on the TV show he’s in. Chance, a sound technician, becomes his friend and, eventually, lover. But they’re in for a rough ride before their happily ever after. No Sacrifice is due out this summer and I am SO excited about these boys.

* * *

Patrick flopped onto the couch and sighed before reaching for his phone. He needed to get up and shower, get moving on a few other things he needed to do, but he couldn’t resist checking his texts first.

His grin spread when he had one waiting from Chance.

Hi baby! Just wanted to see how you’re doing. Was thinking about you. Reply when you can. Love you.

He quickly tapped out a reply: Hi back. Love you. I’m hot and sweaty. You?

He laid his head back and closed his eyes, trying to decide if he should wait for a reply or go shower. Before he could think much, his phone beeped. Well, I was fine. Now I’m horny, thinking about you all sweaty.

Patrick laughed. Now you know how I feel. Spent the whole time down in the gym thinking about last night. And thinking about the taste of your cum + working out = weird.

He waited, knowing the reply would be quick. Yes, that would be weird. What were you thinking about it?

Patrick didn’t realize he’d started rubbing his cock through his shorts at the thought of last night and Chance being horny. Until, that is, he had to move his hand to reply. He paused to think. Liked it. A lot. Never thought I would. Then he grinned evilly when he wrote, Can’t wait to get more.

This reply took even less time. Fuck. Now I’m seriously turned on. Do you know how hard it is to hide a hard on here?

With a grin, Patrick replied. Oh yeah. I’m *well* aware. I have one, now. Your fault.

Patrick pushed his hand under the waistband of his shorts and started teasing himself as he waited for the reply. It was almost immediate. Oh fuck. What are you going to do about it?

Patrick stroked himself a couple of times before pulling his hand out to reply. Hmm, do? Figured I’d wait for you to come home.

The reply was one word and threw Patrick quite a bit. Why?

Patrick blinked. Kinda figured you’d want me to.

Oh hell no, baby. Jack off anytime you need to. Not like you won’t reload before I get home, anyway.

Patrick hadn’t thought of it like that. The few times he and Emily had lived together instead of in separate states—or countries—she hadn’t appreciated him masturbating without her. He considered his wording carefully, hoping Chance would get the meaning behind that without ruining their teasing by bringing Emily up. Huh. Never thought of it like that. That’s… uh… new idea for me.

Chance obviously did and the next reply surprised him even more. If it’ll make you feel better, take a picture and send it to me when you’re done.

Patrick grinned, set his phone aside and shifted enough to push his shorts down. His cock, quite hard now, slapped back when it was free and Patrick ran his hand over it a couple of times to tease. Then he had an even more evil idea. He snatched up his phone, held up his cock, lined up the lens, then snapped a picture of his hard and now dripping length. He tapped out, like this? and sent it off.

This reply was even faster than any other. Fuck me. Now I’m hard, too. *Really* hard. Send me that pic. I’m going to take it into the bathroom.

Patrick’s grin widened at the reply and he stroked his cock a few more times with purpose, but he wanted this to be good, wanted plenty to send to Chance. He stood up and kicked his shorts off, sending up a quick thanks that his son Avery was at preschool then retrieved his laptop and set it up on the coffee table. Within a few clicks, he had what he wanted: a picture of Chance stark naked, laid out on the bed, hand wrapped around a really hard cock. He’d snapped it not long after they got together. And it never failed to turn him on. He hadn’t thought he’d use it for this—hadn’t really thought what he’d use it for. He simply couldn’t resist capturing such a shot.

He laid back, eyes fixed to the picture of his naked, aroused lover and started stroking himself again. He kept it slow and teasing, wanting to build it up as much as possible. He brushed the fingers of his free hand over his balls, down over his taint then back up again. He ran his hand up over the tip, collecting the bit of liquid then spreading it over his length, but he decided it wasn’t enough.

He twisted around, and opened the drawer in the end table, pulling out the bottle of lube. He stopped long enough to pull off his t-shirt and drop it then lay back. He poured lube into his hand and wrapped it around his cock, spreading the slick out.

“Fuck,” he groaned at how good that simple stroke felt. He stopped long enough to grab his phone and put it on his chest so he wouldn’t forget. Then he started stroking with purpose, eyes glued to Chance’s naked picture.

He reached down with his free hand, tugging lightly on his balls then gripping the base of his cock. He grunted softly as the pleasure started to build and he moved his hand a little faster. He could feel his balls pulling up already and he let go of it, his cock slapping back against his stomach. He glanced over to see the head was already dark red and he ran his fingers over it teasingly, but kept from stroking for the moment.

He looked back at Chance and with his other hand, he teased his nipples, tugging on them lightly until they got hard. Then he flicked them with his thumb and the feel went straight to his cock, making it jump. He pinched his nipples again, moaning at even those light touches. He loved teasing himself, loved working himself up. And his nipples were great for that. He hadn’t discovered that until Chance. Just one more reason for him to love the man.

He let go of his nipples, running his hand down his thigh, then over his taint, pressing on the spot just behind his balls that always felt good. “Shit,” he whispered and gave in, taking his cock in his hand again and stroking it. He kept it slow, though, going for more teasing. He was determined to build this up as much as he could.

He cupped his balls and started rocking his hips in time with his hand, thrusting into it almost as much as he was stroking. He let his hand slide up and stroke just the end for a few seconds, but that was way too much pleasure. He moved his hand back down and gripped the base of his cock, squeezing his balls just a little, to pull himself back. He was too close to the edge and he wasn’t ready yet.

In another moment, he’d calmed down enough to not go off before he was ready. He wrapped his hand around his cock again and looked away from Chance’s picture long enough to see the tip was damned near purple. He started working himself again, with firm, fast strokes, pushing himself once more to the edge. When he got there, he let go and picked up his phone.

With his clean hand, he unlocked it then flipped through the screen to find the camera icon. After tapping a couple of things, he held it in front of him, making sure he had a clear shot of his cock and stomach. Then he started stroking himself again and he let out a moan as the pleasure built once more.

He rocked his hips, working his cock over thoroughly. He grunted again as he moved his hand to the end and focused on stroking only that. It did what he expected and pushed him right there. As the climax approached, he went back to full, long strokes.

“Fuck, Chance,” Patrick groaned and just a couple of seconds later, he grunted loudly as the orgasm hit him hard. He kept his hand moving through it, still moaning, pushing the pleasure even further as he unloaded his balls all over his stomach and chest. The sight sent an aftershock through him. “Oh fuck…” he groaned even louder, stroking a few more times and earning himself an extra shot of cum.

He slid his hand to the tip, squeezing the last of the cum out onto his thumb and forefinger. He lifted the hand and showed it to the camera then hit a button on his phone and set it aside.

He stopped to pant hard for a minute in the aftermath of the orgasm. He swallowed around his dry throat, staring at Chance’s picture. “Fuck, a ghrá, you make me crazy.” He shook his head, grinning, and snatched up his dirty t-shirt to clean his other hand off.

He picked up his phone and checked over what he had. The quality sucked but it was a phone, so it’d have to do. He got what he wanted, so he saved it then switched over to the messages.

He tapped out a simple message: Hope it’s good enough. Sorry it took so long. Think you’ll like why. Love you. He hit send on that, then pulled up the attachment and sent it.

With a grin, he went in to take his shower.

Chance was just beginning to think Patrick had changed his mind when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He bit his lip because the vibration felt good and he was still very on. His cock had only gone down a little because his brain kept throwing pictures of a naked Patrick at him. It took every ounce of his willpower to keep his hands out of his pockets and away from his dick.

It had been a very frustrating ten minutes.

He was so turned on, he was half-tempted to go to the bathroom and just jack off before Patrick sent it. But he’d told his lover he’d wait, so he wanted to. Besides, the picture Patrick was sure to send would be well worth it.

He pulled the phone out of his pocket and saw he had two messages. He sincerely hoped they were both from Patrick because he did not need to have to deal with his mother or sister right then. He opened it up and was relieved to see they were both from Patrick.

He stopped dead in the middle of the hallway he’d been walking down to stare at the screen. The simple message didn’t surprise him. Hope it’s good enough. Sorry it took so long. Think you’ll like why. Love you. No, what surprised him was what was attached. And he could tell from the tiny thumbnail it was not something he wanted to open in even a semi-public place.

He stuffed the phone back in his pocket and walked as fast as he could without drawing attention. Thankfully, he wasn’t too far from the closest bathroom. He glanced around, but no one was paying any attention to him. Even so, he felt like he had eyes on him when he slipped into the bathroom and into a stall.

He locked the door, had his belt open and pants down in only a few seconds. A couple of seconds after that, he was sitting with the video started and his cock in his hand. He bit brutally at his lip to keep from letting the moan out that wanted to escape.

The image of Patrick’s wet, extremely hard cock would have been enough. A few strokes to that picture and Chance could have been going off all over the stall. But he kept it slow, wanting to at least get through the whole video once before he lost it.

He scrambled to pause when Patrick moaned. He dug his earbuds out of his pocket, plugged them in and put them in his ears. Then he started the video again, turning the volume up.

Chance’s hand started moving unconsciously as he watched Patrick’s movements. More moans filled his ears as the incredibly sexy sight of Patrick’s hand flying over hard, slick flesh took up the whole screen. Chance forced himself to let go of his own hard dick to watch. There were only about forty seconds of the video. He wasn’t a hormonal teenager, he could get through that much.

But by the time he was looking at Patrick’s cum covering the tan skin, he thought he was going to go crazy. Only forty seconds of video was all it took. He paused to spit into his hand a few times and slick his cock, then he started stroking it again.

He had to pause the video at fifteen seconds, and stop moving his hand to pinch the base of his dick in an effort to hold back the climax. He wanted to come with Patrick and he was already so close. If Chance had been doing this in front of Patrick, he’d be embarrassed by how quickly he’d be going off.

When he pulled back from the edge a bit, he started the video back up. This time, he knew he could make it. He wrapped his hand firmly around his cock, giving himself full, long strokes to delay those few more seconds. When Patrick groaned, “Fuck, Chance” into his ear, he tightened his hand, dragged it over the tip then gave himself the short, fast strokes that would send him over the edge. He yanked his t-shirt out of the way and aimed his dick at his stomach.

And just as Patrick’s cock unloaded, spraying cum all over stomach and chest, Chance’s orgasm screamed through him. He couldn’t stop the quiet groan that escaped as his balls pumped stream after stream of cum out to coat his own stomach. The video froze on the picture of Patrick’s hand with more cum on it and he stared at it as he milked every last bit of pleasure out of his cock.

He panted hard, trying to gather enough wits to remember what he wanted to do. He hit the “back” on his phone, scrolled until he found the camera and hit the icon. When it came up, he rotated so it used the front-facing camera, aimed it at his wet dick where it lay right next to the cum on his stomach and snapped the picture.

He waited long enough to clean up and wash his hands, then he typed in: That’s what you caused. Fuck, baby, that was hot. I came *hard*. Then attached the picture and hit send.

Patrick climbed out of the shower, feeling fucking fantastic. Between the workout to get his muscles moving then the orgasm and shower, he felt like he could do just about anything. He dried himself off, doing his best to be quick and efficient when it came to his cock because he did not want to get worked up all over again after all that.

He picked up the phone off the bedside table and grinned when he saw a message from Chance. He opened it… and his dick twitched hard. He stared, he couldn’t stop himself and before he realized what he was doing, he had his hand on his cock and had worked himself back to full erection.

He groaned, then chuckled and took a picture of it. He tapped the message box and typed, And that’s what *you* caused. Again. I am *so* fucking you hard after Avery’s in bed tonight.

Chance opened the message and laughed, but carefully avoided looking at the picture for too long. He sent his reply: I can’t wait, baby. My ass is all yours. Then he pocketed his phone and went back to work.

He had a very nice afternoon.

* * *

Thanks for reading! And thanks again to Lisa for hosting me today. I can’t wait for RainbowCon and all the wonderful people that will be there. I hope you guys have enjoyed this glimpse into Patrick and Chance’s story.

If you’d like to read more from, check out my latest release, a short in the Dreamspinner Heartwarming anthology, Celebrating You. If you like your fiction on the kinkier side, my Golden Collar series might just tickle your fancy. Here’s a bit about the latest in my Golden collar series, entitled Deception.


Cyrus and Nadir first met as hungry orphans on Behekam’s streets at twelve years old. They became friends, then partners in the thievery that enabled them to survive, and as they passed their days together, they fell in love. When they are both taken as pleasure slaves in the opulent palace of the Malik of Neyem, love becomes more complicated.

Rumors of an attempt on Malik Bathasar’s life put Cyrus and Nadir’s relationship to the test—they must pose convincingly as intimate slaves to the young malik as part of a plan to lure the assassin into the open. Teman—Malik Bathasar’s real personal pleasure slave and true lover—was once trained by Cyrus for the same duties, and the attraction and care Cyrus developed for him then still remains. The Malik of Neyem proves an easy man to love and Nadir’s feelings for him grow while they’re pretending to love each other.

Cyrus and Nadir care deeply for each other but they’ve forgotten the first rule of love: communicate in honesty. Their love remains strong enough to weather the changes—if they have the courage not only to face the coming dangers, but to put aside deception and find their truth.

For more places to find me, check me out here: Website FacebookTwitterYoutubeGoodreads

Be sure to leave a comment below and let me know what you like best in your m/m romances for a chance to win a copy of any of my e-book titles!


A Sneak Peek At The Coming Week, Amelia C. Gormley, Grace R. Duncan, Hayden Thorne, Heidi Belleau, Jackie Nacht, K.A. Merikan, Liz Borino, Mia Kerick, RainbowCon, Riley Hart, Sara York, SE Jakes

Here’s A Sneak Peek At The Coming Week

Hi, everyone, I hope you’ve all had an outstanding week and are looking forward to a great week ahead. We’ve got a busy one coming up here at The Novel Approach, so check out who we’ve got on tap to bring all the fun right to you!

MondayGrace R. Duncan kicks the week off with a RainbowCon Celebration, and she’s offering a giveaway

Riptide Publishing will also be bringing Heidi Belleau and Amelia C. Gormley on the To the Very Last Inch Blog Tour

TuesdayMia Kerick is our guest on The Red Sheet Blog Tour, and there’ll be a giveaway

Riley Hart is also elevating the anticipation of her next release, Stay, book two in the Blackcreek series, with a purty smexy cover reveal!

WednesdayJackie Nacht will be here with us on the Full Moon Blog Tour, answering a few questions , and there’s a Rafflecopter Giveaway

A.J. Corza’s also back today with another fabulous installment of “Got You Covered”

ThursdayK.A. Merikan drops by today on the Copper Horse Blog Tour

FridaySara York has us covered on the Pray the Gay Away Blog Tour

Riptide Publishing is back today to bring SE Jakes to us, on the Free Falling Blog Tour

Saturday – You’ve already seen a sneak peek of Liz Borino’s Angel’s Hero this morning, so be sure to stay tuned for more from her “Angel” Blog Tour

SundayHayden Thorne is our guest, talking about your YA Historical Fantasy Renfred’s Masquerade, and she’s offering a giveaway of the book

And that does it for this week. Until next time, happy reading!

Dreamspinner Press, Michael Rupured, MLR Press, RainbowCon

It’s A RainbowCon/Happy Birthday Celebration With Michael Rupured, And He’s Brought Gifts

I’m Michael Rupured, author of Until Thanksgiving, Dreamspinner Press, After Christmas Eve, MLR Press, and Happy Independence Day (pending). As luck would have it—Lisa had no idea when she scheduled my post—today is my 56th birthday! To celebrate, I’m giving away autographed copies of Until Thanksgiving and After Christmas Eve (U.S. residents only).

My stories take place in the recent past—the late 1990s for Until Thanksgiving and the 1960s for the other two. Having been out of the closet to everyone on the planet since 1979, I’m struck by how much views on homosexuality have changed. People forget that not so long ago, the federal government prohibited the hiring of homosexuals and homosexuality was a mortal sin, a mental illness, and in very state but Illinois, a crime.

I came out ten years after the 1969 Stonewall riots that launched the gay liberation movement. By then, local bars had become the center of the gay universe. There we could dance, hit on someone we found attractive without fear (mostly), and otherwise let down our hair after a long week pretending to be straight everywhere else.

The gay agenda revolved around getting law enforcement and everyone else to leave us alone. Stop harassing us, discriminating against us, and otherwise treating us like lepers. Today we can legally marry in an ever-growing number of states and countries, serve in the military, and even join the Boy Scouts of America.

The first story, chronologically, is After Christmas Eve, with history as a backdrop.


As Philip Potter wraps up his last minute shopping on Christmas Eve, 1966, James Walker, his lover of six years, takes his life. Unaware of what waits for him at home, Philip drops off gifts to the homeless shelter, an act of generosity that later makes him a suspect in the murder of a male prostitute.

Two men drive yellow Continentals. One is a killer, with the blood of at least six hustlers on his hands. Both men have secrets. And as Philip is about to discover, James had kept secrets, too. But James wasn’t trying to frame him for murder…


Chapter One

Philip Potter trudged through falling snow with the last minute shoppers on Connecticut Avenue. A few more stops and he’d be done. He nodded, tipping his hat and smiling at the people he passed, now and then adding “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holidays.”

Not since childhood had he been so excited about the season’s festivities. The snow helped. Without at least a dusting, it hardly seemed like Christmas. But what made this year so special was the little boy his sister had delivered nearly four years earlier. Since January 13, 1963, Thaddeus Mathew Parker had become the reason for every season.

Philip had spent weeks every November since then researching toys before buying his nephew’s presents. Thad being too young his first Christmas to know what was going on had in no way detracted from the pleasure of buying for him. But Philip had been a little let down by his nephew’s cool response to the bathtub play set he’d bought, and last year, he’d been disappointed when Thad enjoyed playing with the ribbon and wrapping paper more than the LEGOs the experts had recommended.

This year would be different. His darling nephew had babbled about Santa for weeks, and upon request, reeled off an ever-changing list of toys he hoped to see under the tree. The one constant was a Ride ’em Fire Engine that Philip had bought for him and stashed in his sister’s garage. Thinking about how his nephew’s face would light up made Philip smile.

Blowing snow whirled around him. He pulled the black beret down onto his head and tightened the scarf around his neck, pulling it up over his goateed chin and freezing ears. The weatherman had predicted that the Christmas of 1966 would be the whitest since 1962. Maybe he and James could take Thad sledding on the hill by the Washington Monument.

Philip looked forward to spending Christmas in Maryland with his sister Mary and her husband Alex, Thad—who she still insisted on calling Mathew—and James Walker, his boyfriend. He pushed up the sleeve of his coat to check the time. James would soon be finishing up the meeting he’d arranged with his father. Philip doubted the conversation had gone well. He’d wanted to go along, but James wouldn’t let him—he’d said something about needing to fight his own battles and not rubbing the old man’s nose in anything. Philip snorted in disgust. James might have forgiven his father for kicking him out at sixteen, but Philip hadn’t.

He brushed the snow from his eyebrows with a gloved hand as he walked and tried imagining the conversation between James and Roland Walker. James’s part was easy. Having shared a bed with him for several years, Philip knew James better than anyone else did—especially his sorry excuse for a father.

Sweet, sensitive James would explain his fascination with ballet, share his excitement upon first seeing The Nutcracker, and reveal his dream of performing the role of the Snow King. He’d tell his father how much he’d learned from the classes he and Philip had saved up for him to attend, and explain why he needed to quit his job to train full-time under the tutelage of Mary Day at the Washington School of Ballet.

Philip had met the doyenne of dance at a fundraising gala for the arts. She’d insisted James drop whatever he was doing to study with her full time and had raved about his natural grace and beautiful lines. The cost of her lessons had given Philip pause, but only because he thought she should back up her words with a scholarship or find a patron to pick up the tab. Still, considering the sacrifices James had made while Philip was in graduate school, he’d do whatever he could to help James’s dreams come true too—including swallowing his pride and accepting a handout from the father who’d had nothing to do with his son for the last six years.

Philip hoped Roland Walker would see how James’s eyes blazed when he talked about loving to dance and sense his son’s passion for ballet. He’d have to be blind to miss it. Wouldn’t a father do anything he could to help a child’s dreams come true? Whatever differences they might have, James was Roland’s son. Wouldn’t any man want his son to be happy?

As they’d never met, imagining Roland’s part of the conversation was more difficult. Given the man’s reaction to finding out his son preferred men to women, Philip suspected that not one thin dime of the fortune he’d made in plastics would go toward ballet lessons for his son. Still, James wanted to try.

Unlike Philip, who’d always known he wanted to work at the Smithsonian, James had struggled to find his passion. In the time they’d been together, James had jumped headfirst into a host of careers ranging from welder and sculptor to gardener, house painter, and then on to singing and playing several musical instruments. A half-hearted stab at acting had landed him in a local production of Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. Philip remembered how horrified James had been about having to dance in front of an audience when he got the part.

Like an indulgent father, Philip had gone along with James’s desire to dance, believing in the back of his mind that like the rest of his short-lived occupations, dance too would soon fall by the wayside. But that hadn’t happened. James loved to dance as much as Philip enjoyed historical artifacts. Recognition from Mary Day had upped the ante. Her interest in James proved he was meant to dance. Finding his calling had changed him. If a lack of money prevented James from pursuing his dream, Philip didn’t know what would happen.

They’d gone over the numbers a hundred times. James could quit waiting tables to concentrate on his dance career. Philip’s job at the Smithsonian paid enough to support the two of them. But tuition for the Washington School of Ballet was out of reach.

Way out of reach.

The very idea of asking anyone for money rubbed Philip the wrong way. He prided himself on his self-sufficiency. Asking Roland Walker was the last resort. All other options had failed. James meeting with the father he hadn’t seen or spoken to in the last five years was a testament to his desperation.

Philip stopped in front of Walgreen’s, admiring the attractive display of powder blue, sea foam green, canary yellow, and fire engine red transistor radios in the window. He bought two of each color and an extra red one—James’s favorite color. While he waited to have Daddy’s Helpers wrap the radios, he enjoyed a piece of cherry pie and a hot cup of coffee at the fountain. His impulse purchases when money was such an issue were blameworthy, but he knew James wouldn’t mind. A few more dollars wouldn’t make much difference anyway.

On the way home, he detoured by the Relief Society Shelter for wayward boys where his lover had often stayed before Philip had rescued him from the streets. Perhaps a cheery new radio would lift the spirits of the boys who’d spend this Christmas there. Philip knew James would appreciate the gesture even more than the watch that waited for him under the tinsel-laden tree in the G Street apartment they shared.

Philip opened the shelter’s door, stomped his feet a few times, and whisked his coat free of snow. He’d expected the cash-strapped facility to be deserted, and was surprised to see that wasn’t the case. The snow and cold had chased all but the hardiest souls from the streets. He hoped he’d bought enough radios.

The squeak of the color wheel changing the white artificial tree from amber to green, then red, blue, and back to amber competed with the tinny music coming from an eight-track tape player on the front desk. Philip recognized Joan Baez singing “Ave Maria” from her newly released Christmas album. Are eight-track tapes still albums? He wasn’t sure.

Boys playing Chinese checkers on a card table near the white-flocked tree erupted into laughter. A shortage of volunteers meant they lacked much in the way of parental influence, supervision, or positive role models. Philip wished he had time to join them as he walked toward the young man at the reception desk. The boy’s head was down, the fingers of his left hand tangled in his bangs as he concentrated on the fountain pen that danced across the page.

Philip watched him fill line after line with a feathery script that was without a doubt the most beautiful penmanship he’d ever seen. He cleared his throat to get the boy’s attention. No luck. The pen flew across the page of the spiral notebook so fast, Philip expected to see smoke. He cleared his throat again, adding a little cough for good measure.

The boy looked up, startled. His ash blond hair might have been parted on the side earlier in the day, but now fell over his forehead, almost concealing the violet eyes that anchored his symmetrical face. “Gosh! I’m sorry. I didn’t even see you there.”

“I admire your focus. What are you writing?”

The boy blushed. “It’s my journal. One day I’m going to cash in on all this pain and suffering with a runaway bestseller about my life on the street.”

“Oh?” Anger at the boy’s ignorant parents rippled through him. Philip wondered what the parents who produced and abandoned the boys who ended up here were thinking. Here was a young man that any parent should be proud to stand beside. How could one small thing provoke such a callous response? “I bet your story will be a fascinating read.”

“Yes, sir. One day you’ll see Daniel Bradbury on the library shelf between Isaac Asimov and Truman Capote. That’s me, Daniel Bradbury.”

Philip extended his hand. “I’m delighted to meet you, Daniel Bradbury. Philip Potter.”
The young man grasped his hand in a strong grip and pumped it twice. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Potter. Can I help you with something?”

Mr. Potter? He winced. The title was appropriate, he supposed, even if he still felt more eighteen than thirty. He placed the shopping bag of transistor radios hidden beneath cheerful wrapping paper and color-coordinated bows on the desk. “For you, and anyone else here tonight. Merry Christmas.”

“Gee thanks, Mr. Potter.” Daniel reached into the bag and pulled out a package. Then he called to the boys playing Chinese checkers, “Hey guys, presents!”

The game broke up in a clamor of falling chairs and bouncing marbles as the young men rushed to grab a gift from the bag. Philip stood back, enjoying the excited ‘ooohs’ and ‘ahhs’ the radios elicited from them. Yes, Philip thought. This is shaping up to be the best Christmas ever.

Author Bio: For as long as he can remember, Michael Rupured has loved to write. Before he learned the alphabet, he filled page after page with rows of tiny little circles he now believes were his first novels and has been writing ever since. He grew up in Lexington, Kentucky, where he came out as a gay man at the age of 21 in the late 1970s. He considers it a miracle that he survived his wild and reckless twenties.

By day, Michael is an academic. He develops and evaluates financial literacy programs for youth and adult audiences at the University of Georgia and is Assistant to the Dean for Family and Consumer Sciences Education. He’s received numerous awards and honors over the years and is a Distinguished Fellow of the Association for Financial Counseling and Planning Education. Michael is also an avid gardener, a runner, and because he loves it and rarely misses a class, is known locally as the Zumba King.

In 2010, he joined the Athens Writers Workshop, which he credits for helping him transition from writing nonfiction to writing fiction. Michael writes gay romance thrillers that, in addition to entertaining the reader, highlight how far the gay rights movement has come in the last fifty years. A serial monogamist who is currently between relationships, Michael writes with his longhaired Chihuahua, Toodles, in his lap from his home in Athens, Georgia.

Find Michael at:

Amazon| Website | Facebook | Twitter


RainbowCon, Sandrine Gasq-Dion

The RainbowCon 2014 Countdown Celebration Begins! Welcome Sandrine Gasq-Dion!

Hey guys!! So excited to be bringing you Dirty Ross while I’m in Tampa for RainbowCon!! I’m bringing with me one of my special assassins! Jordan Levine will be joining me there and I’ll have some swag to give away!

If you’ve been reading the series, you know that Ross and Cole have been dancing around each other for the last few books. Cole came on kinda strong, and Ross had to put him in his place. It’s been almost a year now, and Ross is slowly succumbing to Cole’s charms (Snort). The push and pull comes to a head in this book. and I can’t wait to hear from you all! Look for it in April while I’m in Tampa. ;)

Coming up in the months after Dirty Ross are Lux Ex Tenebris, Strange Addiction, and Savage Love. As always, most of the time I can give you a month for a release date, but no day. As my editor has a full time job, she edits my books when has time. I think she does a damn find job of it!

Enjoy an excerpt from Dirty Ross. Those of you on my Facebook pages have already seen it. :)


“Hello, Mount Everest. I’ve got my pickaxe and rope.”

Ross couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. Cole was back in full form. Ross turned slowly and eyed the man from head to toe. Jesus, Cole looked good enough to bang. His inner wolf was screaming mine, mine, MINE! Shit, he really needed to get laid, and soon. Ross reeled in his wolf and relaxed against the bar, smiling.

“Conditions are grave on the peak tonight, my friend.”

“I’ve got my arctic tent, too.” Cole waggled his brows.

“What’ll ya have, Cole?” PJ asked.

“The man in front of me.” Cole licked his lips, giving Ross Collins a once over.

“Now, Cole, I’ve told you I don’t do ménages.” PJ pointed a finger at Cole.

Ross cracked up. “I’ll have a beer, PJ.”

“That’s good, PJ, because I don’t share.” Cole leaned in to Ross’ face. “What’s mine is mine.”

Oh hell. Ross leaned back a little, their eyes locked and his dick sat up and took notice. Cole oozed sexuality and alpha male. Hot damn.


Ross glanced over his shoulder. “Huh?”

“Your beer?” PJ grinned.

Ross took it and before he could pull his wallet out, Cole had paid for it.

“This one’s on me, Soldier.” Cole winked.

Ross held up the beer. “This is no way gives you a pass into my pants, Ryker.”

“Oh, I know. I’m going to go stock up on cold weather gear. Conditions are downright frosty tonight.” Cole shivered.

Ross cracked a smile. “Isn’t there some other guy you’d like to bend over tonight?”

Cole leaned in until he was a hairs breath from Ross’ lips. “I don’t devote this much time and energy to something that comes easily, Ross. As I said, I’m getting ready for a long hike up a steep slope.” Cole stepped back and grabbed his beer off the bar. “See you around, Collins.”

AUTHOR BIO: Sandrine (Sandy) Was born in Inglewood, California. Raised by “Old School” French parents, she later moved to Tucson, AZ. It was there that writing became a hobby. Always told she had a great imagination, Sandy wrote short stories for her friends in High School. In college, she took more writing classes while working on her Criminal Justice degree, but it wasn’t until a soap opera caught her eye that she got involved in male on male romances. On the advice of a friend, Sandy dipped her toes into the world of M/M Romance. Sandy takes the writing seriously and has had countless conversations with gay men as well as hours of research.She’s been involved with the military in one way or another for over twenty years, and has a great deal of respect for our men in uniform. She’s traveled the world, but is currently enjoying the South.

Find Me Here!!

Facebook | Author Page | Website | Twitter: @Sandrine_GasqD


BLURBS: With 21 books in this series, read how it all began with the first two.

A Marked Man

Mateo Esposito loves his job. Hired assassin for the U.S. Government, he takes lives and he kicks ass with no mercy.When a job lands in his lap that’s just not quite right, Mateo finds himself questioning orders for the first time in his career. Who would have known he’d be undone by a purple hippo…

Riley Flynn is CEO of Flynn Electronics. Deep in his closet, Riley wonders what it would feel like to be with a man. When his path crosses with Mateo’s, their lives will never be the same.
Because, Riley is Mateo’s next target….


Alaska With Love

Josh Montgomery is a red-blooded American male that loves his job and loves women even more. Part of an elite team run by General Derek Jacobs, Josh and his fellow assassins take pride in their jobs. When one Assassin gig turns into a rescue mission on the side, Josh’s life is turned upside down by the man he rescues. Now, he has to take a good long look at who he really is.

With the help from his friends Mateo, Riley and Troy, Josh tries to understand what he’s feeling.

Mark Patterson joined Doctor’s without Borders to do good in a foreign country. Little did he know a maniacal drug lord would kidnap him and use him to deal drugs, among other things…. Without any hope of rescue, Mark resigns himself to his prison. Until early one morning when he’s rescued by a blonde God. Josh Montgomery is tall, light and beautiful….and straight.

Being in close quarters only makes things harder on both men, will Mark get his man? Will Josh take a chance…. In the wilds of Denali Forest the two men come together, but is it for good? Or will Mark’s past drive them apart?

A Sneak Peek At The Coming Week, A.J. Corza, GotYouCovrd, Heidi Belleau, Heidi Cullinan, Kelly Wyre, Khloe Knight, LE Franks, Lisa Henry, Mary Calmes, Michael Rupured, RainbowCon, Riley Hart, Sandrine Gasq-Dion, Sneak Peek

Here’s A Sneak Peek At The Coming Week

Greetings, everyone, I hope you’ve had an outstanding week! We’ve got six weeks of celebrating ahead, as we do our part to help count down the days to RainbowCon 2014. Watch for guest posts, giveaways, and more reviews ahead. Here’s what we have on tap.

MondaySandrine Gasq-Dion kicks things off for the RainbowCon Celebration today, talking about her upcoming release of Dirty Ross, and offering a special combo giveaway for FOUR, count ’em four lucky readers.

Riley Hart also stops by with a character interview with Mateo, Josiah, and Tristan from Broken Pieces, and she’s got some swagalicious swag she’d like to give away.

TuesdayRiptide Publishing presents Lisa Henry and Heidi Belleau on the “King of Dublin” Blog Tour

WednesdayMichael Rupured is our guest for Day 2 of the RainbowCon Celebration, and he’ll be giving away a couple of autographed books to a lucky reader.

Mary Calmes has a guest post for us today. She’ll be talking about Cord and Tracy and her new book “Floodgates”, and offering a giveaway.

A.J Corza will also be back with some more great insights into the cover art we all see and love.

ThursdayHeidi Cullinan is back today on her Double Blind Blog Tour. She’ll be talking about the book and offering a giveaway.

FridayLE Franks stops in on her 6 Days to Valentine Blog Tour

SaturdayKelly Wyre will be here today on her Fight Blog Tour, and she’ll be offering a giveaway of the book.

And that’s it until next week. Happy reading!


The Countdown To RainbowCon Celebration – Let The Fun Begin!

On April 17th through the 20th, authors, publishers, bloggers, and readers alike are all set to converge on Tampa, Florida for the first annual QUILTBAG convention, RainbowCon.

To kick off the fun, FIVE blogs have joined together to host a group of FORTY attending authors for guest posts, giveaways, and general merrymaking as we count down to the big day! Amethyst Daydreams, Hearts on Fire Reviews, Pants Off Reviews, Joyfully Jay, and The Novel Approach will each be hosting the event on alternating and some corresponding dates, so be sure you stay tuned in for the announcements. The fun starts tomorrow, March 1st, with author Zoe Lynne at Amethyst Daydreams, and continues on March 3rd right here at TNA with Sandrine Gasq-Dion, and March 5th with Michael Rupured.

Carrying on the merriment at TNA later in the tour, we’ll welcome:

• Grace R. Duncan
• Sue Brown
• HL Holston & Eleanor Bruce
• Kindle Alexander
• VJ Summers
• LE Franks
• Allison Cassatta
• Nicole Dennis
• K-lee Klein
• JR Loveless
, who ends the tour on April 16th! It promises to be a great countdown and a fun weekend in Florida.

Hope to see you there!