Author: Kimichan

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See You in the Morning by A. T. Weaver Blog Tour with Excerpt and Giveaway

RC

 

 

Excerpt:
Jake walked into the cottage, laid the rose on the hall table, removed his jacket and hung it on a hook inside the hall closet. He took Dave’s green sweater from a hanger, slipped it around his back and hugged himself with the sleeves. The scent of Dave’s favorite aftershave filled his nostrils. My dear one, what will I ever do without you? He picked up the rose, stuck the stem through a buttonhole on his shirt and went into the kitchen. He took two glasses from the cupboard and pushed a button on the refrigerator door. Ice and green tea flavored with honey and ginseng poured into the glasses. He frowned at the glasses and set one on the table. I guess I only need one glass.
His shoulders drooped and his feet shuffled as he walked to the living room. He felt much older than his seventy-six years. He set the glass on the table next to his favorite chair, sat and pushed a button on the arm of his chair. Across the room a huge screen nearly the size of the wall rose up and displayed a menu. He pushed another button and an old-fashioned photograph appeared on the screen. Memories flooded his mind.

Buy the book:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/418482

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Meet A. T. Weaver:
A. T. Weaver is the pen name of a divorced grandmother of eleven, great-grandmother of one. She lives with her cat, Cleopatra, in downtown Kansas City, MO.
When she was growing up, the word gay meant happy and carefree and homosexuals were called queer or ‘one-of-those’. However, she never heard those terms until she was married and a mother. When two men moved in down the street from their mobile home, her husband had to explain they were queer. As far as she was concerned, they were just a couple of men sharing a trailer.
In 2003, through a TV show called Boy Meets Boy, using the sign-on of ‘alixtheweaver’ she ‘met’ over 3,000 gay men in a Yahoo group. These men called her ‘grandma J. and educated her as to the inequalities suffered by the LGBT community She became a staunch ally. She visited one of the men in San Francisco who lived just up the street from the Castro. As he showed her around, they stopped in front of what was once Harvey Milk’s camera store. Her question, “Who was Harvey Milk?” started her education into Gay history.
After the passing of Prop 8 in 2008, she attended her first ever protest rally at the ripe age of 65 where she held a church flag across the street from WBC protesters.
A. T.’s aim is to move you in some way. Whether you laugh or cry, love it or hate it, she welcomes all comments, whether good or bad.
Where to find A. T. Weaver:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/alix.t.weaver
Or https://www.facebook.com/alixtheweaver
https://www.facebook.com/pages/A-T-Weaver-writer/149528070288
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/A-T-Weaver-writer/149528070288
Blog: https://alixtheweaver.wordpress.com/

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2783124.A_T_Weaver
Publisher: A. T. Weaver
Cover Artist: Ken Clark – Photo from Dreamstime
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Werewolves of Brooklyn by Brad Vance Tour with Excerpt and Giveaway

RC

 

Pages or Words: 54,000 words

Excerpt:
The wolf’s eyes were lava-yellow with hate. His growl and his snarl were meant to terrify Darien, to freeze him in his tracks, prepare him for his death.
Then something rose up in Darien, rage, frustration, primal energy. And his own lips curled, his own growl met the enemy’s.
The Duke retreated a pace, taken aback. Darien felt sharp pains in his palms and looked down. Where he’d had fingernails, he had claws, long and sharp, and the fists he was making were digging them into his flesh.
He smiled, exhilarated, wild. He lunged and snapped at his enemy, knowing that his canines had become…literally that, elongated spikes ready to tear out a neck.
Darien’s ears were ringing, something surging in him beyond mortal feeling – like testosterone but stronger, more powerful, the smell of victory, immortality.
“The King is mine,” Darien declared. “And I am his.”
He knew he’d taken a step from which there was no turning back. He was the King’s man, the King’s consort. He would open to Albeus and take him, and be taken by him, and he would be alone no more.
He was one of the pack.
And it curdled the blood of men for miles around when he raised his face to the full moon, and howled.

Buy the book: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B013GIMYH4

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About the author:
Brad Vance writes gay romance, erotica and paranormal stories and novels, including the breakout hits “A Little Too Broken” and “Given the Circumstances.” Keep up with Brad at BradVanceErotica.wordpress.com, email him at [email protected], and friend him on Facebook at facebook.com/brad.vance.10.

Where to find the author:
http://bradvanceerotica.wordpress.com
http://facebook.com/brad.vance.10
[email protected]
BradVanceErotica on Google+
@BradVanceAuthor on Twitter
https://www.pinterest.com/bradvanceerotic/

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6886454.Brad_Vance
Publisher: Brad Vance
Cover Artist: Brad Vance

Young male fashion model posing outdoors against rustic background
Young male fashion model posing outdoors against rustic background

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Take Your Pick by Missy Welsh Tour with Interview and Giveaway

RC

Today, I’m very lucky to be interviewing Missy Welsh author of Take Your Pick.

Hi, Missy. Thank you for agreeing to this interview. Tell us a little about yourself, your background, and your current book.

Hello! Thanks so much for hosting me today. I’m not too complicated, I am addicted to carbs, and I need an app on my phone to yell at me so I work through my to-do list. Sometimes I’m pink and frilly, but mostly I’m denim and bare feet. I’ve worked in membership management, IT, customer service, and marketing, but it’s writing fiction that I truly love.

Take Your Pick is about Peter Kim and his 5 housemates exploring their sexualities in the name of ultimate friendship. See, Pete’s in love with all of them and it’s become a secret he can’t contain any longer. After he’s found out, he’s both thrilled and wary about his housemates’ decision to spend a day with him doing whatever he wants, including sex. Pete’s going to learn a lot about each of them as well as himself by the end of this story.

Give us an interesting fun fact or a few about your book.

It’s about 6 college age guys who live together and, well, all of them end up having sex with Pete throughout the course of the story. Yup, Pete’s a very busy guy! (I’m so laughing at myself right now…) I’ve never written a book with so much sex in it. At the same time, though, it actually turned out to be a love story.

How did you come up with the title of your book?

The inspiration for the book is a photograph of five, bare-chested guys lined up in a row. My first thought was that they looked like they were waiting for someone to take their pick of them. Eventually, I decided that they would’ve asked Pete to do that.

Give us an insight into your main character. What does he do that is so special?

Pete has a lot of love in him for his housemates. I think he could’ve been just fine living the rest of his life without any of his best friends ever knowing he was sexually attracted to them as well. He might’ve gotten to know guys in college and been able to shift his attraction to other men and been very happy. But since I’m in charge of this story world, they do find Pete out and make him a wonderful offer instead. I think Pete is special because he’s able to jump on that offer and live in the moment, come what may.

What do you think makes a good story?

Emotionally involving the reader. I’m hoping Take Your Pick will not only, uh, stimulate readers, but maybe make some hearts clench, a few eyes tear up, and get a giggle or three going. That makes a book a success.

What does your family think of your writing?

I was honestly worried about telling any of them what I wrote when I was first published, but only because LGBT anything had never been something we’d discussed. They laughed at Jack from Will and Grace, muttered about how Ellen didn’t have to come out, and swore they didn’t know anyone gay. Nowadays, they still laugh at Jack, they respect Ellen, and they know and like a lot of gay people. I think I’ll go so far as to say that, by writing these books and being honest with my family about what I’m doing, I’ve opened their minds and hearts to being more understanding and compassionate toward LGBT people and equality for everyone.

Excerpt:
I watched them pile into the behemoth Devon’s mom had loaned for tonight’s trip up to Cleveland. They all looked good in their club clothes. Nothing flashy or too tight, but I’d spread some fashion sense around and they’d believed me every time. Not a single girl would be able to resist my boys.
Of course, there would be plenty of boys who’d be unable to resist them either.
Just like me.
I waved as they drove off, equal parts relieved and lonely. I didn’t want to let them go without me, but I had been wound way too tight lately. I had on one other piece of clothing—the tightest pair of briefs I owned—just to help mask the boner I kept springing every time I’d been near them for the past three days.
Something had to give, and it was going to happen in a gush of orgasmic heat all over my fist.

Buy the book:
Amazon—http://amzn.to/1Jup0Tg
All Romance eBooks—http://bit.ly/1JupqJv

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Meet Missy Welsh:
Missy Welsh stares into space a lot, has conversations with cats, takes notes while people-watching, records conversations (not the ones with cats), named her laptop Norbert and her phone Pushkin, has backups of her backups’ backups, faints at the sight of a misused semi-colon, and will often ask socially unacceptable questions of strangers.
Basically, she’s a writer.

Where to find Missy Welsh:
Facebook: http://on.fb.me/175mi7V
Twitter: http://bit.ly/1EiCGVk
Missy Welsh Book News (email list), http://bit.ly/1coHgOY
All Romance eBooks Author Page, http://bit.ly/1VanTjS
Amazon Author Page, http://amzn.to/P6ilxR

Goodreads Link: http://bit.ly/175mtjK
Publisher: Missy Welsh
Cover Artist: Thorny Sterling
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My Hero by Max Vos Audible Edition Tour

 

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When he was 16 years old, Rich Miller saved a young man from drowning at his local pool. Little did he know that years later, as a senior in college and Olympic diving hopeful, Rich would meet up once again with Johnny Milloway, now a big football player – and when Rich says big, he really means “bear”. The shy jock remembers his saviour, and the two men become friends.

Johnny isn’t put off by the fact that Rich is gay. In fact, the more time he spends with Rich, the more curious he becomes. Johnny wants to know all kinds of things – what it’s like to kiss a guy, for instance. Only it doesn’t stop there…
Rich finds it difficult to believe that this relationship can go anywhere. Johnny is straight, and Rich isn’t prepared to deal with the heartache he knows will come his way in the future. He has enough on his plate as it is – the worlds are just around the corner. His father would rather watch a football game than spend time watching his son dive. What he doesn’t count on is Johnny, who can be very determined. And having Johnny in his life proves to be a catalyst for some pretty earth-shattering changes.
©2014 Max Vos, Inc.; (P)2015 Max Vos, Inc.

Buy Links:

Amazon

Audible

My Hero is also available on Itunes.

Trailer 

About the Author:

Max Vos is a classically trained chef with over 30 years of food service experience. After retiring in 2011, Max found himself with time on his hands and was urged to turn his talents to writing. ‘Cooking English’, a short story, was his first published work, and has four other short stories currently in publication with Ravenous Romance. His first novel, My Hero was a number one best seller on Amazon. He continues to challenge himself with varying topics, from Marine Vampires to taboo subjects. The one thing you will always be guaranteed to find in his writing is hard, gritty, man-on-man sex.

Max loves hearing from readers. You can keep up with him by reading his weekly blog posts on his own blog page: http://www.maxvos.com/

or his Facebook page : https://www.facebook.com/max.vos.393?fref=ts

Email him at: [email protected]

GIVEAWAY

Max is giving away
An audio code for a copy of My Hero
3 Ecopies of My Hero
2 Ecopies of a Backlist Title ( winner’s choice)

Rafflecopter Link:
http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/d51793e098/?

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Narrator’s Bio

Jared Bradford has been a nation-wide gay nightlife icon, actor, go-go dancer, singer, model, classically-trained pianist, yogi, and educator in physics and mathematics. He is originally from Louisiana, but now lives very happily in New York City with his partner of three and half years, Seth Fornea, and adorable Chihuahua, Miley. As a debut narrator and producer, Jared is proud to present his performance of My Hero as his first introduction to the audiobook world.

Jared has always had a strong interest in music and the theater and has starred in several productions of plays and musicals including Hay Fever, Old Wicked Songs, The Exonerated, Godspell, and A Grand Night for Singing. He also recently portrayed Chandler in the daytime web series La Fleur de Mai. Now, he is delighted to be able to bring his interests in music recording and acting together to produce quality audiobooks.

Like most, Jared loves to enjoy life, and always tries to find the FUN in everything. If you have the chance to see him twerking it on a box somewhere around the world, don’t be shy and come say hi!

Connect with Jared online at:

https://www.facebook.com/jbradford.inc?fref=ts

http://www.soundcloud.com/Jared-Bradford

 

http://[email protected]

heart dani elle 4

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A Hard Day’s Night Tour by Mia Kerick with Excerpt and Giveaway

RCPages or Words: 21,500 words

 

Excerpt:
“Fin and I have managed to get locked into what I will refer to as a repetitive pattern of affable behavior, and, in my opinion, it’s working out splendidly. We are the dearest of friends.”
Scratch that. Starting over.
And since I know it’s well past time for some brutally honest self-talk, I sit up in my bed, and by the warm glow of my Yellow Submarine nightlight, study my frayed picture of John Lennon. To complete the visual, it’s the photo from Mom’s retro record set, The White Album, that I pinned to the wall beside my bed and have worshipped regularly since I was in the seventh grade. Behind those round wire glasses, the man’s piercing eyes don’t lie—John was a brutally honest sort, often to his detriment. After all, back in 1966 didn’t he assert that The Beatles were more popular than Jesus Christ? Now, that is certainly calling it exactly as he sees it.
Not that I necessarily agree with the sentiment, I respect that kind of direct- ness in a person.
I owe him this much.
Out of respect for John, I revise and reissue my previous assertion.
“The Finster and I are stuck in a rut of pleasant compatibility… an unusually
deep rut, at that.”
This attempt at telling-it-like-it-is is definitely an improvement, but it’s still
not right on the money, and I’m nothing, if not specific.
I prop up my pillow and lean hard against the creaky antique headboard (call it like you see it, Lennon—the headboard is just plain old), with the certain knowledge that I’ve completely outgrown this flimsy, twin size bed of my childhood.
So maybe it’s more like this….
“Fin and I each have one leg semi-submerged in a muddy ditch, and we’re in it well past our knees. This is the kind of murky and dark, seemingly bottomless, pit that will suck the rubber boot right off your foot with a single, hollow, slurping sound, and then belch with satisfaction.” For the third time I speak aloud in an effort to make my declaration official. “It appears that the two of us are gonna be stuck here in this mucky BFF-swampland for the long haul— bootless and slowly sinking into the sludge—unless, of course, I act decisively and with haste. And with great vigor—because, to accomplish the task I have in mind, I’m most likely going to have to shift into full-hyper-dunk-mode, possibly coupled with the drama-queen-approach. Neither of which poses a problem for me, other than that they require an excessive expenditure of energy.”
That was most definitely a mouthful, but an accurate mouthful.
And all I need is one day. Just one gay day.
Thankfully, ever proud of the open-mindedness he hides so well from his ultra-conservative family, Fin has granted me my greatest wish. On Saturday, March 21st, Beaumont Finley Danforth II (IMHO this BFD is a Big Fucking Deal) is mine for the day to do with as I please. I sincerely hope that a single day is sufficient to help Fin figure out what I already know.
Um, Lennon…maybe now is not the right time to start suffering with a debilitating bout of self-doubt.
Confidence is of key importance in this endeavor.
No, I do not have any worries, and yes, I do have twenty-four feminine-side-ex- ploring, team-switching, relationship-igniting hours to make my homeboy see the rainbow-hued light. Starting bright and early tomorrow morning.
On that note, I’ll get started with my beauty sleep. I sure hope I’m gonna need it.
I wiggle down so I’m flat on my back with my feet sticking six inches over the end of the bed, pull the covers up to my chin, and listen to my mental arrangement of “Imagine” until I fall asleep.

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Buy the book:
http://www.amazon.com/Hard-Days-Night-Mia-Kerick-ebook/dp/B013O1V2OE

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/mobile/details.html?pid=1870086

https://gumroad.com/l/AAVuw
About the author:
Mia Kerick is the mother of four exceptional children—all named after saints—and five nonpedigreed cats—all named after the next best thing to saints, Boston Red Sox players. Her husband of twenty-two years has been told by many that he has the patience of Job, but don’t ask Mia about that, as it is a sensitive subject.
Mia focuses her stories on the emotional growth of troubled young people and their relationships, and she believes that physical intimacy has a place in a love story, but not until it is firmly established as a love story. As a teen, Mia filled spiral-bound notebooks with romantic tales of tortured heroes (most of whom happened to strongly resemble lead vocalists of 1980s big-hair bands) and stuffed them under her mattress for safekeeping. She is thankful to Dreamspinner Press, Harmony Ink Press, and CreateSpace for providing her with alternate places to stash her stories.
Mia is a social liberal and cheers for each and every victory made in the name of human rights, especially marital equality. Her only major regret: never having taken typing or computer class in school, destining her to a life consumed with two-fingered pecking and constant prayer to the Gods of Technology.
Where to find the author:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mia.kerick?fref=ts
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MiaKerick
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&query=mia+kerick
Publisher: Cool Dudes Publishing
Cover Artist: Louis C. Harris

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Shifting Chaos by Elizabeth Noble Tour

Shifting Chaos coverChaos reigns in The Sleepless City, and it’s really beginning to piss Detective Jonas Forge off. He’s got inner demons to battle and a life to build with his new soul mate, Blair Turner. Nothing is going right, and he already feels the universe is conspiring against him when a turn of events he never saw coming flips his world upside down.

Hallucinations grip the town and everyone in it, threatening to tear their precariously built family apart, and the only way forward is to bare all to each other. This means Declan and Blair need to learn to accept one another. Lucas Coate has to move forward without ties to his werewolf pack and live a monogamous life with Declan.

But while Forge and Declan confront horrors from their shared past, Simon learns a terrible truth about vampires—one he couldn’t have imagined in his worst nightmares.

Pages or Words: 73,000 words

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Excerpt:
“What happened?” Blair asked. He turned his head toward the back door. A second later Moose was running to the back of the house.
Jonas strode in, jerked his jacket off, and tossed it down beside Ben’s helmet, muttering as he went. He stopped and faced them. “Those fools have decided I must be head detective.”
Lucas came to a stop behind Jonas, grinning.
“Wait, you’ve been pissed off all day because you got a promotion?” Blair asked.
Ben lunged forward and threw his arms around Jonas’s neck. “Sweet as! We have to celebrate. It’s about time they recognized you like this. I think it’s crappy you haven’t been promoted until now.”
Jonas pulled in a breath and stepped back from Ben. “I thank you, but it’s a fucking disaster.”
“Another of the Council’s tricks,” Declan added.
“They can’t do this, can they?” Simon said and sat down abruptly on the couch. “That’s against the Council rules.”
“What’s wrong with all of you?” Ben turned in a circle, glaring at each of them in turn.
“I can’t be the head detective.” Jonas took a DVD from the shelf under the television and put it in the player. He grabbed the remote control, aimed, and pointed. “This”—he waved at the scene appearing on the TV—”is why I can’t have this job.”
An image of Stewie in relation to some incident that, by the looks of it, had happened a few years ago appeared on the screen. Underneath were the words “Flint, Ohio, Head Detective Stewart Belle,” and Stewie was speaking to a reporter.
“Oh crap,” Blair said. He and Ben stood side by side.
“Yes. Oh crap covers it nicely. The head detective must be a human, has always been a human. You know, someone who can be seen by a camera and is available during the full moon,” Jonas said. “Before Stewie there was some dick by the name of Felton, and before that we had the oh-so-delightful Smyth.”
Ben nudged Blair and waved one hand between Declan and Jonas. “Have you noticed that between the thief and the cop, the cop is the one with the problems with authority?”
Sales Links:

E-book: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=6780

Paperback: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=6781

About the author:

Elizabeth Noble started telling stories before she actually knew how to write, and her family was very happy when she learned to put words on a page. Those words turned into fan fiction that turned into a genuine love of M/M romance fiction. Being able to share her works with Dreamspinner is really a dream come true. She has a real love for a good mystery complete with murder and twisty plots as well as all things sci-fi, futuristic, and supernatural and a bit of an unnatural interest in a super-volcano in Wyoming.

Elizabeth has three grown children and is now happily owned by an adorable mixed breed canine princess named Rosie, and two cats, Murphy and Yeti. She lives in her native northeast Ohio, the perfect place for gardening, winter and summer sports (go Tribe!). When she’s not writing she’s working as a veterinary nurse, so don’t be surprised to see her men with a pet or three who are a very big part of their lives.

Two of Elizabeth’s books have received Honorable Mentions in the Rainbow Awards.

Where to find the author:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/elizabeth.noble.77
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Elizabeth-Noble/120757231345733
Twitter: @elizabethnoble1
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/elizabethnoble1/
Other: Google + https://plus.google.com/110207268360224371489/posts
Other: website http://www.elizabeth-noble.com
Other: Dreamspinner author page http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/index.php?cPath=55_423
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4781553.Elizabeth_Noble
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: TL Bland

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Mythologically Torqued Volume 2 by Torquere Press Tour with Giveaway & Excerpt

RC
Pages or Words: 102,185 words

Excerpt:
That night Luis dreams for the first time in years.
His surroundings are a surreal clash between pub and coffee shop. The bar is one he frequents only when he craves the noise and companionship of a crowd instead of an empty studio. The coffee shop is where he sat only days ago, agreeing to take on his first commission in ages. The mix of locales is strangely chaotic, too many details going awry between them. Gray windows hang opposite the bar itself, reflected by a wide mirror along the back wall. Yellow light glints from the ceiling, painting the pub brighter than Luis has ever actually seen it.
The booth he occupies is plush, empty but for himself, and the cushions beneath and behind him are cracked with wear.
“Can I join you?” a coffee-smooth voice asks, and Luis raises his eyes to find absolute perfection smiling down at him.
He can’t answer. His voice has frozen in his throat.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” the man says, dropping into the booth across from Luis. Mischief glints in dark eyes, and Luis stares in helpless silence, taking in everything he’s been searching for in a thousand unsuccessful sketches. Sharp cheekbones cut across a narrow face, perfectly symmetrical and softened by a widening smile. The face is narrow, but the jaw is strong, the nose straight and broad and fitted perfectly to deceptively delicate features. There’s an uncanny smoothness to the brow where it slopes beneath dark curls, but the smoothness creases when sharp eyebrows rise in pointed amusement.
Generous lips quirk into an even wider smile, and the man asks, “See something you like?”
Luis tries to reply, but he’s still too floored. Even knowing this is a dream, he’s mortified with himself for gawping. It’s embarrassingly difficult to summon his voice and answer.
“You’re perfect.” He means to say more, but a grating alarm sounds, jarring him. When he blinks he’s not at the bar any longer, but at home in his own bed, early sunlight piercing between window curtains and the alarm clock a cacophony in his ears.
The grogginess of sleep vanishes in a rush of adrenaline, and Luis reaches for the sketchbook on his nightstand
from By Hand and Heart by Yolande Kleinn

Buy the book: http://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=200&products_id=4452

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Publisher: Torquere Press
Cover Artist: BSClay
Rafflecopter Prize: E-copy of ‘Mythologically Torqued Volume 2’
Rafflecopter Code:
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Twelfth Night by Racheline Maltese and Erin McRae Tour

RC

 

Excerpt:

John doesn’t expect Michael to be as weirdly taken with the ocean as he is with the wild woods. It doesn’t seem like his element the way the trees are. But he is mesmerized by the beach almost instantly upon their arrival, insisting they walk along the hard wet sand of the tide line. It doesn’t matter how many times John says their muscles will ache unhappily tomorrow from miles walked at the edge of the frigid fall water; Michael either doesn’t hear him or doesn’t care enough to respond.
John is fascinated as Michael keeps a close eye on shells and rocks. One is shaped like a small egg, and he’s disappointed when it’s not. Still he makes John hold it for him, running ahead to a rock jetty to comb through the midden of mussel shells left by persistent and angry seagulls.

John tries not to be horrified, but the sight of Michael’s fingers picking through the dead bivalves and seaweed stinking in the sun is a bit much.
“What’s this?” Michael asks, eventually, holding out a shell, colored and swirled, to him.
It’s in perfect condition, and John is about to be impressed with the find until he realizes there’s still a creature using the shell as its home.
“That’s an animal in there.” He doesn’t actually know what kind. But it’s gelatinous and of the sea and not really a thing they should be messing with. They’ve seen dozens of jellyfish washed up on the beach already today.
“Does it go in the ocean or not in the ocean?”
“Ocean,” John says. He’s not 100 percent sure, but he suspects, like the jellyfish, the sun and the birds will eventually cook and peck it to nothing if it’s not saved by the sea.
Michael throws the shell back and returns to the tide line as they walk, gaze carefully on the ground and picking at every shell he sees that looks like whatever creature he just rescued. Most of them have their animals in them, and John suspects the coming hurricane that’s going to ruin their trip is churning them up.
As Michael throws each one back into the water, John is charmed that he’s trying to save creatures that have no spine, names he doesn’t know, and forms he’s never seen before.
Eventually Michael decides they can leave and reaches for John’s hand. John flinches away. It’s not the strangeness of the town this beach is attached to, half religious meeting town, half gay beach paradise. There’s even a club down the block from their inn that advertises “Less Lights, More Fun!” It’s that he can only think about whatever bacteria Michael is now coated in from all the dead mussels.
God, but he’s going to look like an idiot explaining that.
When he tries, stumbling through a mini monologue about seaweed and sea creatures and sand, Michael just listens with his head tipped to the side.
Finally John’s speech drags to a halt under Michael’s incredibly unimpressed gaze. He sighs and starts again.
“Okay. I swear the handholding thing has nothing to do with anything except your gross dead bivalve hands. But I think I may be freaking out.”
Michael blinks at him. “Did this start when we checked in and you had to deal with people who know we’re here to fuck?”
It’s sharp, but John knows he probably deserves it.
“You know I don’t mind being out in public with you,” he says cautiously. He wants to be honest with Michael, but he also doesn’t want to provoke anger by being less willing to be out than Michael deems sufficient.
Thankfully Michael considers John for a moment and then grins. “Somewhere in the romantic beach getaway, I got that.”
John lets out a relieved sigh and wraps an arm around Michael’s waist. He wants to prove his willingness to be fully in this relationship without shame, but life is also just better when they’re touching. Michael leans into his side, and they start walking down the sand again.
“But it’s something I can’t help being aware of,” John says quietly as they walk. “What we are and what people see when they look at me. Which apparently means I’ve found my internalized homophobia, and I am completely aware of how gross that is. I’m going to work on that, but there it is.”
“You still want to, like, go out to dinner tonight and make out on the boardwalk, though, right?”
“Oh my God, you have no idea. I want to tell everybody about you.”
Michael smirks. “So why don’t you?”
“Coming out at my age is kind of more complicated than it is at twelve. Or however old you were when you did.”
“I was fourteen, thank you.”
“So how did you come out to your parents?” John asks after they walk for a few minutes in silence.
Michael cracks up.
“I’m serious!”
Michael buries his face in John’s arm and apparently can’t stop laughing. “You do understand how ridiculous this is, right?”
“I understand that I’m forty-two and have to come out to everyone in my entire life that I give a remote shit about, because you are addictive and fascinating and wonderful and also are sadly holding me to some pretty legitimate ethical standards. So help a guy out, okay?”
“I was making out with my first high school boyfriend in the living room, and my mom walked in.”
John is entirely not surprised. “So hey, when you meet my family, let’s not go with that plan, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Michael says, drawing the word out in a way that makes it clear it’s his turn to be defensive and weird.
John smirks, pleased to be off the hook for the moment. “You haven’t told them about us either,” he says smugly.
Michael mumbles something against John’s arm.
“What was that?”
“You’re really old,” Michael says. “And they’re going to freak.”
Sales Links: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=6728

TwelfthNight_final

About the authors:
Erin McRae is a queer writer and blogger based in Washington, D.C. She has a master’s degree in International Affairs from American University, and delights in applying her knowledge of international relations theory to her fiction and screen-based projects, because conflict drives narrative.

Racheline Maltese lives a big life from a small space. She flies planes, sails boats, and rides horses, but as a native New Yorker, has no idea how to drive a car. A long-time entertainment and media industry professional, she lives in Brooklyn with her partner and their two cats.

Together, they are co-authors of the gay romance series Love in Los Angeles, set in the film and television industry — Starling (September 10, 2014), Doves (January 21, 2015), and Phoenix (June 10, 2015) — from Torquere Press. Their gay romance novella series Love’s Labours, set in the theater world — Midsummer (May 20, 2015), and Twelfth Night (August 12, 2015), is from Dreamspinner Press. They also have a story in Best Gay Romance 2015 from Cleis Press and edited by Felice Picano. You can find them on the web at http://www.Avian30.com.

Where to find the authors:
Joint Blog: http://Avian30.com
Joint Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/Erin.and.Racheline
Erin’s Twitter: https://twitter.com/erincmcrae
Racheline’s Twitter: https://twitter.com/racheline_m
Erin’s Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8323893.Erin_McRae
Racheline’s Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1015335.Racheline_Maltese
Erin’s Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Erin-McRae/e/B00M7A0SVC
Racheline’s Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Racheline-Maltese/e/B001JRVS2C
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25202261-twelfth-night
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: Brooke Albrecht

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Posted on

Breeding Stations by Chris T. Kat Tour with Excerpt and Giveaway

BreedingStations
Spunky commander Berit Turner is known for two things: his huge libido and his lack of a filter—he says what he thinks. Berit sets his mind on being part of the mission to Ligador, to make sure the planet is habitable for humans. He’s ecstatic when his team is assigned to the task force. A delegation of Nadisc, a humanoid alien race, accompanies them, and passion ignites between Berit and their commanding officer, Tom. But Berit is determined that Tom is just another notch on his bedpost, as he doesn’t do relationships.
The excursion to Ligador goes wrong from the beginning, when they discover Ligador has been established as a breeding station by their worst enemy: the Tash’Ba. Dinosaur-like creatures become the team’s worst nightmare, and staying alive is going to take everything they’ve got… and then some.
Pages or Words: 204 pages or about 65,000 words

Categories: M/M Romance, Science Fiction

Excerpt:
Excerpt from Chapter Two

Several alarmed shouts warned me of something going on, but I had no time to process what happened. Something roped around my waist and yanked me over to the side. I crashed into Tom’s chest as a harsh growling sound erupted from his throat.
I tried jerking myself free, but he held onto my wrists with one hand, while his tail kept me tethered to his body. “What the hell?”
Niyara squared off in front of Tom, her dark eyes gleaming with an eerie, demonic red glint where her pupils should’ve been. Her long tail swished from one side to the other and her arm muscles flexed.
“What the ever-loving fuck is going on?” I asked.
“Quiet!” Tom hissed.
My mouth fell open, and I gaped at him. Okay. Enough was enough. I caught the tip of his tail in my hand and pinched it—hard. He roared, but I used the chance to slip free. A Nadisc’s tail tip was the most sensitive part, which came in handy during sex but was a real disadvantage in a fight. Or maybe not. I’d never heard of someone winning a fight against a Nadisc when—
Niyara’s fist closing around my shirt stopped all my pondering. She lifted me off my feet, hissing and boring her eerie gaze into mine. Maybe I should’ve stayed with Tom. He’d felt slightly less dangerous than she did.
Carson appeared next to Niyara’s side, eyes as large as saucers but an equally determined look on his face. He reached out. As soon as he touched her arm, her head whirled around. I held my breath. Would he be able to save me from Niyara’s wrath? She’d seemed rather taken with him earlier. What the hell had I done, anyway, to agitate her?
As I wracked my brain, Carson and Niyara gazed at each other. The next instant he rose on tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.
She let go of my shirt, and I would’ve landed flat on my ass if Tom hadn’t snatched me around the waist. Niyara rested her head on Carson’s shoulder, which meant she had to stoop because of her height. No one said anything, and no one moved for what seemed like a long time. When she lifted her head, several people—including me—hissed, afraid of what she’d do next.
Niyara bowed her head toward Tom. “I apologize for my outburst. I’ve never encountered a jealousy spell before.”
“Jealousy spell?” I echoed.
She gazed at me, suddenly looking sheepish. “Feeling such a strong connection is new to me, and I didn’t like Carson using an endearment toward you.”
I blinked, then looked over at Carson. He gawked, and his eyes were the same size as before. Would they stay like that forever?
Niyara swept an arm around to include everyone in her proclamation, which resulted in startled jerks and coughs. “I’m claiming Carson as my mate. Anyone who’d like to object has to fight me.”
No one objected. Everyone seemed busy inspecting their boots or the ceiling. I never noticed before how very ugly the hatch’s ceiling was.
“Berit!” Carson wheezed out.
I sighed and transferred my gaze from the ceiling to Carson. “Congrats?”
Someone cheered and the others followed suit, clapping their hands to add to the noise. Carson was so pale I feared he’d faint, but Niyara cupped his face in both hands and kissed him. After that, he didn’t seem to mind that much, not anymore.
Chuckling, I told the others to open the hatch and take up their position. The hatch opened with the usual buzz, but when I started to walk, Tom’s arms around my waist tightened to an almost painful level.
“Tell them to secure the area and wait for further instructions,” he whispered into my ear.
“Dream on. I won’t do—” My words ended abruptly when the steel bands around my waist left me no room for breathing.
“Now.”
Tom allowed me more breathing room, and I gave the desired order. No one looked twice or questioned my instruction, for which I’d have been grateful on any other day, just not today. Ticking off a Nadisc was a bad idea. One of the worst, really.
We waited until everyone had cleared the hatch’s area. Tom spun me around in his arms and lifted me up until we were face-to-face.
“You accepted me as your leader on this mission, remember? That means no punching me,” I said, “or doing anything that would harm me.”
Tom’s gaze intensified, and my mouth went dry when he spread out a red and orange speckled frill around his neck. I’d read about this display, but had never seen it before. Only a few Nadisc still had those frills—most opted for surgery because it gave away their emotions too easily—and those that did had a very tight control over it.
“But it’s okay for you to hurt me?” he rasped.
I tried to reason with him. “I… look, I’m the commander here. You can’t just order me around or hold me captive, okay?”
“Niyara could’ve killed you.”
I shrugged. “She didn’t, and she’ll just have to get used to the way Carson and I talk to each other.”
The frill around his neck unfolded even more. He said, “I’m not fond of the way you talk to each other.”
I had an inkling where this conversation was headed. I had an even bigger inkling that I’d panic if Tom said anything, so I closed my eyes, wrapped my arms around his neck—over the frill, which was kind of awkward—and sought his mouth with mine.
He opened up immediately, and I dipped my tongue into his mouth, licking along his teeth and eliciting an approving hum from him. Somehow I ended up with my legs wound around him and one of his hands steadying my ass.
When we broke apart for air, he said, “I won’t forget what you did.”
“I’ll make it up to you,” I replied. His eyes lit up with interest, so I added, “Deal?”
“Deal.”

Sales Links:

e-book: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=6683

paperback: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=6684
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About the author:

Chris T. Kat lives in the middle of Europe, where she shares a house with her husband of many years and their two children. She stumbled upon the M/M genre by luck and was swiftly drawn into it. She divides her time between work, her family—which includes chasing after escaping horses and lugging around huge instruments such as a harp—and writing. She enjoys a variety of genres, such as mystery/suspense, paranormal, and romance. If there’s any spare time, she happily reads for hours, listens to audiobooks or does cross stitch.

Where to find the author:

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/ChrisTKat
Twitter: http://twitter.com/christi_kat
Other: GoodReads: http://www.goodreads.com/ChrisTKat
Blog: http://christikat.blogspot.com
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Chris-T.-Kat/e/B008FQQH2Q

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25803681-breeding-stations?ac=1
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: Anne Cain
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Posted on

Breeding Stations by Chris T. Kat Blog Tour with Excerpt and Giveaway

RC

 

Excerpt from Chapter Two

Several alarmed shouts warned me of something going on, but I had no time to process what happened. Something roped around my waist and yanked me over to the side. I crashed into Tom’s chest as a harsh growling sound erupted from his throat.
I tried jerking myself free, but he held onto my wrists with one hand, while his tail kept me tethered to his body. “What the hell?”
Niyara squared off in front of Tom, her dark eyes gleaming with an eerie, demonic red glint where her pupils should’ve been. Her long tail swished from one side to the other and her arm muscles flexed.
“What the ever-loving fuck is going on?” I asked.
“Quiet!” Tom hissed.
My mouth fell open, and I gaped at him. Okay. Enough was enough. I caught the tip of his tail in my hand and pinched it—hard. He roared, but I used the chance to slip free. A Nadisc’s tail tip was the most sensitive part, which came in handy during sex but was a real disadvantage in a fight. Or maybe not. I’d never heard of someone winning a fight against a Nadisc when—
Niyara’s fist closing around my shirt stopped all my pondering. She lifted me off my feet, hissing and boring her eerie gaze into mine. Maybe I should’ve stayed with Tom. He’d felt slightly less dangerous than she did.
Carson appeared next to Niyara’s side, eyes as large as saucers but an equally determined look on his face. He reached out. As soon as he touched her arm, her head whirled around. I held my breath. Would he be able to save me from Niyara’s wrath? She’d seemed rather taken with him earlier. What the hell had I done, anyway, to agitate her?
As I wracked my brain, Carson and Niyara gazed at each other. The next instant he rose on tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.
She let go of my shirt, and I would’ve landed flat on my ass if Tom hadn’t snatched me around the waist. Niyara rested her head on Carson’s shoulder, which meant she had to stoop because of her height. No one said anything, and no one moved for what seemed like a long time. When she lifted her head, several people—including me—hissed, afraid of what she’d do next.
Niyara bowed her head toward Tom. “I apologize for my outburst. I’ve never encountered a jealousy spell before.”
“Jealousy spell?” I echoed.
She gazed at me, suddenly looking sheepish. “Feeling such a strong connection is new to me, and I didn’t like Carson using an endearment toward you.”
I blinked, then looked over at Carson. He gawked, and his eyes were the same size as before. Would they stay like that forever?
Niyara swept an arm around to include everyone in her proclamation, which resulted in startled jerks and coughs. “I’m claiming Carson as my mate. Anyone who’d like to object has to fight me.”
No one objected. Everyone seemed busy inspecting their boots or the ceiling. I never noticed before how very ugly the hatch’s ceiling was.
“Berit!” Carson wheezed out.
I sighed and transferred my gaze from the ceiling to Carson. “Congrats?”
Someone cheered and the others followed suit, clapping their hands to add to the noise. Carson was so pale I feared he’d faint, but Niyara cupped his face in both hands and kissed him. After that, he didn’t seem to mind that much, not anymore.
Chuckling, I told the others to open the hatch and take up their position. The hatch opened with the usual buzz, but when I started to walk, Tom’s arms around my waist tightened to an almost painful level.
“Tell them to secure the area and wait for further instructions,” he whispered into my ear.
“Dream on. I won’t do—” My words ended abruptly when the steel bands around my waist left me no room for breathing.
“Now.”
Tom allowed me more breathing room, and I gave the desired order. No one looked twice or questioned my instruction, for which I’d have been grateful on any other day, just not today. Ticking off a Nadisc was a bad idea. One of the worst, really.
We waited until everyone had cleared the hatch’s area. Tom spun me around in his arms and lifted me up until we were face-to-face.
“You accepted me as your leader on this mission, remember? That means no punching me,” I said, “or doing anything that would harm me.”
Tom’s gaze intensified, and my mouth went dry when he spread out a red and orange speckled frill around his neck. I’d read about this display, but had never seen it before. Only a few Nadisc still had those frills—most opted for surgery because it gave away their emotions too easily—and those that did had a very tight control over it.
“But it’s okay for you to hurt me?” he rasped.
I tried to reason with him. “I… look, I’m the commander here. You can’t just order me around or hold me captive, okay?”
“Niyara could’ve killed you.”
I shrugged. “She didn’t, and she’ll just have to get used to the way Carson and I talk to each other.”
The frill around his neck unfolded even more. He said, “I’m not fond of the way you talk to each other.”
I had an inkling where this conversation was headed. I had an even bigger inkling that I’d panic if Tom said anything, so I closed my eyes, wrapped my arms around his neck—over the frill, which was kind of awkward—and sought his mouth with mine.
He opened up immediately, and I dipped my tongue into his mouth, licking along his teeth and eliciting an approving hum from him. Somehow I ended up with my legs wound around him and one of his hands steadying my ass.
When we broke apart for air, he said, “I won’t forget what you did.”
“I’ll make it up to you,” I replied. His eyes lit up with interest, so I added, “Deal?”
“Deal.”

Sales Links:

e-book: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=6683

paperback: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=6684

About the author:

Chris T. Kat lives in the middle of Europe, where she shares a house with her husband of many years and their two children. She stumbled upon the M/M genre by luck and was swiftly drawn into it. She divides her time between work, her family—which includes chasing after escaping horses and lugging around huge instruments such as a harp—and writing. She enjoys a variety of genres, such as mystery/suspense, paranormal, and romance. If there’s any spare time, she happily reads for hours, listens to audiobooks or does cross stitch.

Where to find the author:

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/ChrisTKat
Twitter: http://twitter.com/christi_kat
Other: GoodReads: http://www.goodreads.com/ChrisTKat
Blog: http://christikat.blogspot.com
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Chris-T.-Kat/e/B008FQQH2Q

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25803681-breeding-stations?ac=1
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: Anne Cain

BreedingStations
a Rafflecopter giveaway