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Kaje Harper Tracefinder: Changes Guest Post with Excerpt

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Kaje Harper Writes Too Many Series… or maybe not enough.

Someone once asked me, “What’s the most interesting criticism you’ve had, as a published author?” I told her probably the one in the title. It was in a lovely, rambling discussion of my work. The critic praised my writing, bemoaned the wait for follow-up series books, then asked for sequels to half my stand-alone novels and novellas. I think the actual, flattering translation was “Kaje Harper should give up her day job, and maybe sleeping and eating, to write.” It was a wonderful affirmation from someone tangled up in all the lives of the guys I create.

I do sympathize. When I started publishing five years ago, I put out quite a few different M/M novels, in a range of subgenres. Some were always meant to be series books, some were supposed to stand alone… except the guys would not shut up in my head. So I ended up with Mac and Tony in the Life Lessons mystery series getting three shorts, and four novels instead of two, John and Ryan from The Rebuilding Year getting an unplanned sequel three years later, a little coda for Into Deep Waters, because someone said there was nothing left for Daniel and Jacob to do but die of old age. (I growled at that, and immediately wrote the two pages of Can’t Hurt to Believe, because life isn’t over until you’re actually dead… or maybe not even then, if you’re Xan in Nor Iron Bars a Cage…)

Eventually, I found myself juggling those series with Finding Family contemporaries, Hidden Wolves werewolf stories, and now Tracefinder paranormal thrillers. As a result, some sequels have been a longer time coming. (Sorry!)

I do try to write solid Happy-For-Now endings in my books. The idea is that, although there are still dangling threads, and relationship stuff yet to work through, a reader can walk away from one of my series installments with a contented sigh. The two (or three) guys are together, at least for now. No one is in peril. The main thread of the plot has some resolution. The next book is hopefully anticipated, but not urgently needed.

In my most recent series, I may have underestimated what that contented HFN would require for some readers. Tracefinder: Contact begins with Nick as an undercover cop, and Brian as both brother-in-law and useful, reluctant employee of the drug lord who is Nick’s target. They are effectively enemies. Brian also has issues of dyslexia, and trying to hide who he is, which work against them getting together. The romance is a slow, slow burn, as a backdrop to the action story. The book does end with them in a far more positive place, if you look back at where they began. But it clearly wasn’t as solid as some people wanted, for that “sigh” moment as they set it down.

In my series-juggling at the time, I had the next Hidden Wolves book underway, plus Travis, Rick, and brother Sam, waiting to find out how they’ll move on from the events I put them through in The Family We Make. But Nick and Brian, and the readers intrigued by them, began urgently tugging on my mental sleeve. So after finishing the draft of Unsafe Exposure; Hidden Wolves Book 4, I turned back to my Tracefinder series.

I think Tracefinder: Changes will satisfy most readers with the progress Brian and Nick make through the book. Brian addresses the issues that make him a controversial romantic main character, and Nick deals with the fallout from starting a relationship on the wrong side of the law. It was great fun to write their adventures, especially when big brother Damon popped up to wreak havoc halfway through. So for once, I got a second series book out in just six months. I love the fact that readers are already looking for the third (and yes, there will be a Book 3.)

I hope that Tracefinder: Changes will now leave readers with that happy sigh moment, and a breathing space while I write a couple other stories. The Wolves will release in a month. Travis, Rick, and Sam and their Family are calling. But I will be back with more Nick and Brian, probably in early 2017.

…“Kaje Harper writes way too many series. But Full Circle really needs a sequel. And so does Nor Iron Bars…”

I can’t imagine any nicer back-handed compliment.

~~~~ Unknown

For those who have read book 1 – Tracefinder: Contact – or who are just intrigued by the sound of the series, here’s a small, fairly spoiler-free, excerpt from Tracefinder: Changes, Book 2.

Brian urgently wants to use his psychic Finding talent to do good, even though his almost-boyfriend Nick is scared of the risk. When suburban mom Emily Stewart is reported missing by her loving husband and three kids, Brian is willing to expose his ability to the cops, to help Find her. But although Officer Quentin fetches a possession of Emily’s for Brian to track psychically, he is not convinced…

Quentin pulled out a white terrycloth headband from his pocket and held it up. “This is hers. She went running every day. But if we’re going to do this, it’s going to be under my control.”

“You can drive my car,” Nick suggested.

“No.”

“I’ll do it in the cop car,” Brian said.

Nick tugged on Brian to pull him aside. “You don’t have to. He’s hooked on the idea. Say no a few times, and he’ll change his mind. That squad car’s got a dash cam, sound recording. You don’t want to do this.”

“Come on.” Quentin dangled the sweatband. “Let’s either start, or I’ll head back to the real search.”

Nick winced, and sure enough, Brian said, “All right.”

Nick fell in next to Quentin. Under his breath he muttered, “You’re a paranoid fucker, and if anything bad happens because you couldn’t handle one psychic without your toys, I’m coming after you.”

“What? Can’t pull off the fake in a squad car?”

“He’s no fake.”

Brian was waiting impatiently. “Nick, you get in back. I’ll sit up front.”

Quentin popped the locks, walked around, and got in the driver’s seat. Brian scrambled in beside him, and Nick reluctantly got into the back. The safety divider between them meant Brian was out of reach, isolated up there with Quentin. Nick tried not to let that shake him. He leaned forward, close to the bars. “No recording devices, Quentin. Got it?”

“Nothing’s on.”

“Better not be or—” Right, don’t threaten the cop inside the squad car. “Ready, Brian?”

“Give me her band.” Brian held out his hand to Quentin.

Quentin dropped the sweatband onto his palm. “There.” He made his voice all quavery. “Now tell me you see… trees, and… grass, right?”

“He doesn’t do vague images,” Nick said, watching Brian’s face. There’s that inward look, the way his eyes unfocus.

Brian turned the band over in his hands, stretching it, and running his fingers inside it. He suddenly squeezed it in a fist. “This is hers? You’re sure?”

“Yeah.”

Nick leaned closer to the partition. “Quentin, if you’re playing games—”

“I’m not. Don’t have the time for that.”

Brian closed his eyes and pressed the fabric to his forehead. Nick winced, because if you didn’t know how rarely he screwed his face up like that, you might take it for fake-medium behavior. “It’s faint. Maybe she didn’t use this a lot yet.” But his hand eventually rose. “Yeah. That way.”

Quentin turned to Nick. “That way what?”

“Go where he points. Think of it like a compass, or a string with her at the end of it.”

“Really?” Quentin shifted out of park and started driving. For a few minutes, he turned corners, glancing over as Brian’s index finger swung back and forth, always settling to the southwest. After another series of turns, he said, “That’s the direction we found her car.”

“So? It makes sense, right?” Nick braced himself against the sway. The hard back seat was slippery, and echoes of some of his worst teen moments came back to him, sitting here behind the protective screen.

“Easy to fake,” Quentin muttered.

Brian’s eyes stayed closed in concentration, and his raised hand trembled. He whispered, “She’s that way. The mom.”

“Okay.” Quentin hit a faster road.

Suddenly, Brian shrieked, “No!” His voice was ear-splittingly shrill, and the car swerved as Quentin reacted. “No, no, no!” Brian collapsed forward, huddled over, head buried in his arms.

Quentin pulled to the shoulder and stopped. “What the fuck! Don’t do that while I’m driving!”

“She’s dead.” Brian dropped the headband to the floor at his feet and rocked, hands locked in his hair. “It’s gone. She died. She’s dead.”

“Ooh, yeah. Very convincing.” Quentin’s acid tone was more confident than his expression. “Nice save, psychic boy. It’s a decent bet she’s gone by now, and when they find her, eventually, you can be all, like, ‘I knew it. I couldn’t find her because she was dead. I’m so psychic.’ Should I clap now?”

“Shut up!” Nick pressed his hand against the divider. Brian was sobbing, harsh deep cries that gained volume and pitch. Nick turned to get out, but of course he was locked in. “Let me out of here.

He’s not faking it.”

“Sure he’s not.” But Quentin put the car into park and opened Nick’s door.

Nick yanked open the front door and put a hand on Brian’s bowed back. His muscles were rock hard under Nick’s touch, and his whole body shook. Nick patted him awkwardly. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not!” The last word rose into panic territory.

Nick met Quentin’s gaze over Brian’s doubled-up form. Quentin’s mouth twisted. “Well, isn’t this exciting? But not helpful.”

“Fuck you.” Nick wanted to punch that smug sneer off his face, except he felt Brian jolt at the harshness of his tone. Brian hated violence. “Money where your mouth is, asshole. I’ll bet you five hundred bucks they find that she died, right about now, right along a line from here to…” He pointed, more or less the direction Brian had. “Out there, somewhere. On this line.”

Quentin glanced that way. “Since that points to her car, sure. Sucker bet.”

“Time of death—” He glanced at the dashboard clock. “—four twenty-three. Money. Mouth.”

Brian sobbed harshly. “Can we just go? I want to go home. My head hurts. Can we please go?”

It wasn’t Bry’s thick, slow voice, but there was a hint around the edges of the way Brian would retreat into Bry under stress. “Sure,” Nick told him. “Quentin will drive us back to the car right now, so we can go home.” He tried to drill his gaze out the back of Quentin’s head. No more harassing Brian.

“Might as well,” Quentin muttered. “Not like this is helping.”

Nick held back his anger. Brian was clearly on the edge of losing it— well, losing it worse— so he kept his tone soft and even. “He can’t Find the dead, just the living. I’m sorry we were too late.” Even that made Brian cry harder. Nick patted his shoulder. “You want to get in the back with me?” Brian shook his head, so Nick closed the door and slid into the back seat. “Turn it around, Quentin.”

The drive back to the café was like nails on a blackboard, each minute raking over Nick’s taut nerves. Brian was clearly holding back as much as he could, but he stayed hunched over and shaking. The occasional wracking sob got past his resistance. Every time, Quentin huffed a breath like he couldn’t wait to dump Brian out on the street. Each delay for a stop sign or traffic light made Nick want to hit something. He clenched his fists until his hands hurt…

~~~~

Unknown tracefinderThe Tracefinder series books are available at

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/search?query=tracefinder

All Romance eBooks – https://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html?searchBy=series&qString=Tracefinder Amazon – https://www.amazon.com/s/url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=tracefinder&sprefix=tracefinder%2Caps%2C454

Author bio:

Kaje Harper grew up in Montreal, and spent her teen years writing, filling binders with stories. But as life got busy, the stories began to just live in her head. The characters grew, met, endured, and loved, in any quiet moment, but the stories rarely made it to paper. Her time was taken up by work in psychology, teaching, and a biomedical career, and the fun of raising children.

Eventually the kids became more independent and her husband gave her a computer she didn’t have to share. She started putting words down in print again, just for fun. Hours of fun. Lots of hours of fun. The stories began piling up, and her husband suggested if she was going to spend that much time on the keyboard she ought to try to publish one. MLR Press accepted her first submission, the M/M mystery Life Lessons, which came out in May 2011. Kaje now has many novels and short stories published, including Amazon bestseller The Rebuilding Year, and a selection of free short stories and novels in a variety of gay romance genres, available at most ebook retailers. She currently lives in Minnesota with a creative teenager, a crazy omnivorous little white dog, and a remarkably patient spouse.

Website: http://kajeharper.wordpress.com/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KajeHarper Goodreads Author page: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4769304.Kaje_Harper

Or you can find me moderating my Young Adult LGBT Books group on Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/group/show/49526-ya-lgbt-books

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Starting Now by S.C. Wynne

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From Riptide:Life hasn’t been good to Francis Murphy. He’s survived twenty-one years of homelessness by hooking and taking handouts where he can find them. When the local shelter is vandalized, he’s forced to seek food at the Grace and Light Church, where he runs into the pastor’s son, Randy.

Life hasn’t been good to Francis Murphy. He’s survived twenty-one years of homelessness by hooking and taking handouts where he can find them. When the local shelter is vandalized, he’s forced to seek food at the Grace and Light Church, where he runs into the pastor’s son, Randy.

Life hasn’t been good to Francis Murphy. He’s survived twenty-one years of homelessness by hooking and taking handouts where he can find them. When the local shelter is vandalized, he’s forced to seek food at the Grace and Light Church, where he runs into the pastor’s son, Randy.

Life hasn’t been good to Francis Murphy. He’s survived twenty-one years of homelessness by hooking and taking handouts where he can find them. When the local shelter is vandalized, he’s forced to seek food at the Grace and Light Church, where he runs into the pastor’s son, Randy.

Randy Wright believes the best in others. He’s immediately drawn to Francis, even though Francis is hardened and wary. When Francis is attacked by one of his johns, Randy and his family take him in and offer him temporary work. Randy always thought he was straight, but something about Francis has him yearning for more than just friendship, and realizing he might be bisexual.

Francis is attracted to Randy too, and Randy and his parents say they’ve always believed in gay rights. But talk is cheap. What are the odds that these Christian parents will remain open-minded when it’s their own son in a relationship with another man?

 

Kimi’s thoughts:

Every now and again a book comes along that speaks to the heart. this is one such book- a bittersweet tale about a young man who is homeless and is selling his body to survive. He gets food where he can, including showing up at places that offer food to customers and event attendees. This leads him to try to mingle at an event run by Grace and Light Church where he doesn’t manage to blend in as well as he hopes. This leads to him becoming a sort of project for the pastor’s family, though they are genuinely fond of him personally.

Just how their deep-seated prejudices they don’t know they have actually run is revealed though when their son Randy, tipped to be his father’s pastoral successor, realizes that he’s bi-sexual and is in fact in love with Francis. The prejudicial attitudes explored here run true, from certain church members’ attitudes towards the homeless in general  to the way sex workers are viewed, as well as the old chestnut about a gay person being able to ‘confuse’ a straight person and make them do things they shouldn’t.  It’s also a story about courage and personal growth, not just Randy’s and Francis’, but that of others who are involved in situations that arise. While gritty, it isn’t a tear you apart read, but one that manages to uplift and shed a light on the darker corners of modern society.

 

Rating: 4.5

kimisig

 

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Why Cover Art Matters by Bronwyn Heeley

 Hello everyone I’m Bronwyn and I am here today to tell you a little about myself, my art and a promo deal (giveaway) I’m doing through to the end of September

 

I got into cover art because, well, I needed a cover and I had no money. For me, at the time, it was more to have something to have on book I was putting out for free but quickly turned into something I enjoyed and found I was good at.

 

Now, I am of the mind that any cover works, but that isn’t really true. The facts are books are bought by three qualities:

 

  1. Author name
  1. Cover art
  1. Blurb

 

Now most of us aren’t lucky enough to have the first one apply to use. Yes, fingers crossed we’ll get to a point where we can sell a book just on name alone, but until then we have to work double hard at making sure people see us and in order for that to happen we must put out something to catch the eye. And this is when cover art comes into view, because, and I’m not joking, or playing, but when you stumble across a new author the first thing you see is the art. The art gets you to click on the link where you will find out more about the book. But even if there’s a bit of a hesitation you are more likely to buy the book that holds eye appeal over the one that doesn’t.

 

And yes I did say that we judge a book by its cover. It’s true, there isn’t anything we can do about it but make sure what we are presenting our book as is covered in a very pretty wrapping. And you don’t have to take my word for it, just go to Amazon and check out their top listing there are so very pretty cover art littering that list.

HEE0024-Farm Boys

One of the things you need to make sure of, either when buying cover art from someone else, or making it yourself is that you need to make sure you/they get the stock photos from a reputable stock image site, this means that they have the licence to sell the art to you as well as you being able to sell it to others. There are multiple sites out there from expensive to cheaper ones, though each site has the rights to take back their image. Now, you as a customer have the rights to ask your artist where they got their stock art from and if they are legally allowed to own it (they do not have to show you this information, however if you are hesitant enough to ask, then maybe you should think about that before spending your money). They should show you a receipt if the question is asked as you are just as liable for using the art as they are for them selling it to you.

 

I use stock sites because they are generally cheaper then buying art from exclusive photographers. The only down side to not getting it through a photographer is that you aren’t the only ones who can use that image, and they are allowed to use it just as you have. Which means there are a lot of covers out there with the same face on it. It’s just something you have to deal with (and I say this after a few authors or artist bitch about the image being used the same way, though not really).

 

Exclusive photographer or exclusive site are generally more expensive, but it comes with perks that you will be the only one that uses said photo. They aren’t stock photos. They are copyright for you to use only on your art, and come with the same type of terms and conditions as stock sites, mainly that you can’t then sell that photo to make money. Wait, that didn’t come out clearly. I mean to say you can’t take the negative or original art and sell it for more money, you can however make the art, and sell that or sell the book.  But you will be the only one that holds that cover art. That image.

 

At the end of the day though art sells your books, it’s not really a hard thing to understand, the better looking it is the faster your book will sell (okay, not that simple, but it does help). And I hope you’ll look to my art for your next book.

 

I do cover art under BonyDee Design, which is attached to my self-published press. At the moment I am putting up a promo where if you buy any one of my packages you will go in the running to win a free package from me. The comp is running from now to the end of September. Please feel free to browse, to contact me via facebook or email, I will be happy to chat about what you are looking for and if it’s something I have or could in the future.

BronwynHeeley

Website: http://beeheeley.wix.com/bonydeemarketing

Email, please add “Design” in the subject line: beeheeley[@]gmail.com / bonydeemdp[@]gmail.com

Premade cover art/fb*: https://www.facebook.com/groups/985324891583504/

 

Thank you for your time. I do hope to hear from you

 

Bronwyn Heeley

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Unknown*Please note the facebook group is run by two artists, only mine (under the butterfly) are a part of the deal

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Night Screams by Devon McCormack Tour

30817589First off, I’d like to thank Kimi for having me on the blog today. I’m so happy to be here to promote my young adult novel, The Night Screams, which will be published through Harmony Ink Press on January 28th. I’ve brought along an exclusive excerpt from the book that I’m eager to share with you guys. Hope you all enjoy the read!

The Night Screams

After Cal escapes a deranged kidnapper who tortured him, he doesn’t even have the clothes on his back. Desperate and afraid, he breaks into a convenience store. But Jake, a clerk at the store, confronts what to him is little more than a petty thief. After a violent tussle, he knocks Cal out.

Jake encourages his Uncle Gary, the owner of the store, to report Cal to the police, but Gary can’t bring himself to report a kid who was just looking to steal food. When Cal wakes, Gary asks him if he’s okay. But Cal’s trauma has left him mute. Instead, he has to write his experiences down, relaying the horrifying events that led him to the store. The police track down the sick man who held Cal captive, and when he confronts them with a gun, he’s shot dead. However, Cal discovers that even with his captor gone, he is far from free of the nightmare he endured.

Gary and his wife welcome Cal into their home, determined to help him heal. Jake doesn’t trust Cal, and he isn’t afraid to say so. But buried beneath Jake’s disapproval might be the person who can help Cal recover from the terrifying experience that continues to haunt him.

Exclusive Excerpt

AT LEAST a hundred students filled the auditorium, either side lined with stone pillars decorated with vines of flowers that spiraled from the floor to the ceiling. At the far end of the room, bulky black speakers surrounded a wooden platform where several kids danced. Over the dance floor, white lights were strung across the ceiling, hanging in arcs. Those who weren’t dancing scattered throughout the room, some at tables along the wall, others chatting in clusters that were surely representative of the various cliques at Jake’s school.

It might not have been Cal’s prom, but at least he knew what he’d missed. And being with Jake made it even better than it could have been by himself.

Mallory went straight for the dance floor, and the group followed. When they arrived, Mallory shrieked at a cluster of dancers who must have been her friends. She threw her hands over her head and twirled, displaying her dress for the girls while several guys shifted their attention from their dates to get a look. Once the girls had approved of her outfit, she shook her ass and backed it up to a smaller girl, who giggled and hurried away.

Cal imagined her behavior would have given his mother fits, as he recalled her constantly complaining about young girls and their “naughty dancing.”

“Come on, assholes!” Mallory exclaimed, urging the rest of the group to join in.

No one seemed to be moving, so she hurried to Jake and danced before him until he grabbed her hip, turned her around, and gyrated his pelvis against her butt.

She laughed.

Debra swayed back and forth beside Blake, clearly indicating she wanted to dance, but he just bobbed his head in a way Cal figured might have been Blake’s idea of dancing. Meanwhile Keith and Kendra smiled, seeming to laugh at themselves as they danced to the beat.

“Oh my God,” Kendra said. “You’re insane!”

Cal swayed, almost like Blake, trying to adjust to the music. He approached Debra from the side, hoping he could distract her until Blake was ready to join in. Once Debra saw him, she bent her legs and flapped her hands before her as she broke into her own little number.

“Show me what you got, Blake,” Cal teased.

Blake smirked, then dropped back, his palms meeting the floor. He bent his arms and threw his legs high and spread them, holding them in place midair. He pushed off the floor, twirled in the air, and landed on his forearms as he continued spinning and kicking his legs in various positions.

No… fucking… way.

The crowd clustered around him as he displayed impressive break dancing moves before hopping back to his feet.

“Fucking show-off!” Mallory screamed across the dance floor.

He smirked and shrugged, clearly impressed with his own moves.

Debra beamed as he started dancing with her.

Jake, Cal, and his friends danced for a few songs, everyone just enjoying themselves, laughing at their own ridiculousness. Jake kept close to Cal, as if he would start dancing with him at any moment, but he remained distant. It reminded Cal this was how they had to be in public.

He wondered what it must’ve been like for Jake and Keith to be together, liking each other but always keeping a certain distance to prevent anyone from suspecting their relationship. This was just how things had to be. Even if Cal had remained with his family in Werrington, he surely would have had to be discreet had he and Daryl ever attempted to take things further.

The beat faded to one that was slower. Much slower. It drove home the sorts of activities he’d always be denied because of his deviant attractions.

As everyone coupled up, Cal turned to head off the dance floor.

He felt a tug on his arm. It spun him around until he was face-to-face with Jake.

“Where you going?” Jake asked as he released Cal’s arm and gripped onto his hands.

“What are you doing?” Cal scanned the room.

What was Jake thinking? Did he want everyone to bully him for the rest of the year?

“What do you think I’m doing?” he asked with a smile.

Cal noticed a few glances their way and blushed.

A group of guys outside the dance floor, standing beside a table with a large punch bowl, snickered and chatted as they gazed at him and Jake.

Cal’s chest tightened. He looked to Jake, panicked.

“Don’t worry about them. Just have a good time.”

Cal’s fear dissipated until he caught a glimpse of Keith, who while dancing with Kendra, stared at them. He wore a sad expression, which he turned from them. Cal figured it was upsetting to see the man he’d had to be closeted with flaunting his affections in public.

“Just look at me,” Jake said.

He did.

Jake’s eyes sparkled, the reflection of the overhanging lights appearing to be stars in the dark night of his pupils.

Jake led Cal in their dance.

For a moment, though he could feel and hear the presence of everyone around him, Jake was the only one he could see, and Jake’s gaze made him feel like he felt the same way about Cal.

He scanned those beautiful eyes, those dimples that dug into his cheek as he grinned ear to ear.

It reminded him of that night at the fire. Jake wasn’t just hot. He was beautiful, so beautiful all Cal could do was fixate on the lone freckle on Jake’s temple, the dip in the middle of his upper lip, the cluster of twisted hairs at the inner corner of his right eyebrow. He wondered how such a beautiful combination had come about. Whatever had made his face so perfect left Cal breathless.

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About Devon McCormack:

Devon McCormack spends most of his time hiding in his lair, adventuring in paranormal worlds with his island of misfit characters. A good ole Southern boy, McCormack grew up in the Georgian suburbs with his two younger brothers and an older sister. At a very young age, he spun tales the old fashioned way, lying to anyone and everyone he encountered. He claimed he was an orphan. He claimed to be a king from another planet. He claimed to have supernatural powers. He has since harnessed this penchant for tall tales by crafting whole worlds where he can live out whatever fantasy he chooses.

A gay man himself, McCormack focuses on gay male characters, adding to the immense body of literature that chooses to represent and advocate gay men’s presence in media. His body of work ranges from erotica to young adult, so readers should check the synopses of his books before purchasing so that they know what they’re getting into.

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Too Good To Be True by Deanna Wordsworth Tour with Excerpt and Giveaway

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Series: 1Night Stand

Book: This is Deanna’s 5th offering in this series. Characters from her previous stories have cameos, but book can be read as a standalone.

 

Release Date: June 17, 2016

Blurb:

Disgraced former FBI agent Tim Burkhart desperately wants to reclaim his life and find happiness. Relocating his fledgling private security company to Miami—where his ex-wife moved their two daughters—hopefully is a start. When he’s hired to provide protection for an antiques dealer on his way to Scotland to sell a priceless ancient dirk, Tim believes the break he’s been waiting for has finally arrived. Maybe now he can make enough money to hire a lawyer and get shared parenting of his little girls. 

Elliot James runs the antique shop he inherited after his grandfather’s death. Lonely and swimming in debt, he longs for a way to turn his life around but keeps making one mistake after another. Then he finds the ancient dirk tucked away among junk as he’s cleaning out his grandfather’s home. Placing it up for sale, he is thrilled when an out of country buyer purchases the priceless antique. The buyer wants the dirk immediately and sends Tim to ensure Elliot safely delivers it on time. 

The moment Tim and Elliot meet, however, everything falls apart. Between break-ins, shoot-outs, stalkers, totaled cars, and the cops, it seems Tim and Elliot will never get to Scotland by the deadline. Despite all the obstacles, an unexpected attraction pulls them together, offering each man a glimmer of hope. But if they don’t deliver the dirk on time, they won’t get paid and neither of them will be able to pick up the pieces of their lives. 

Will they complete this job and find a happily ever after, or is all of this really too good to be true?

 

 

 

Excerpt:

Staring down the sights of his Colt 1911 and into the panicked eyes of the young man, Tim said, “Keep your hands where I can see ’em. I want to know where Mr. James is and why you’re in his store.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Tim saw a flash of metal. Instinctively he dropped to the floor. The sharp crack of a bullet shot through the store, shattering something on his left.

The guy behind the counter made a run for the door.

Tim rolled behind the armoire, gritting his teeth when the door slammed shut and the first guy got away. Careful to stay out of sight, Tim assessed the shooter who’d come from the back room. He looked as young and inexperienced as the one who’d run. Tim recognized the weapon in his hand—a 9mm semi-automatic Beretta. Though Tim’s .45 could out-shoot the little pea-shooter at the range, he had no interest in finding out who was the better shot in real life.

“¿Adónde vas? ¡Esperame!” the shooter yelled to his retreating friend.

Wait for me. Tim knew enough Spanish. The guy planned to make a run for it, too. He clambered to his feet. Before he could tackle and subdue him, the kid aimed his Beretta in the general direction of the armoire and fired off a volley of shots.

“Shit!” Tim dove behind a stack of rugs to dodge the bullets.

The gun went silent.

Tim rolled fast onto his back, his 1911 aimed, only to watch the kid flying out the door behind his friend. The door bounced a few times until it closed, the bells clanging.

“Shit! Shit!”

The scraping sounds in the back room, louder than before, drew his attention once more.

As fast as he could, he crept around the counter, his heart pounding. Both hands on his gun, trigger finger resting on the frame and trigger guard, he took a quick peek into the room, ducking back before a possible third perp could make him.

In less than a heartbeat, his brain registered what he’d seen. He exhaled. Keeping his gun lowered but at-the-ready, he entered.

In the center of what looked like a storage room sat the man Tim had been hired to escort to Scotland. He’d been gagged and duct-taped to a chair.

Elliot James.

“Is anyone else here?” Tim murmured.

Mr. James shook his head wildly.

With a relieved sigh, he rushed over to the man and yanked the gag out. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He gasped for air. “I’m fine.”

“Were there only two?” he clarified, eyes still peeled for danger.

“Yeah,” he managed, his face flushed and startling green eyes wide. Sandy-brown curls fell across the brow of a very frightened but very beautiful man. He took a few slow, ragged breaths, obviously trying to calm himself. “Just the two of them.”

Tim took a steadying breath of his own and slowly released the hammer on his Colt and flipped the safety up, never taking his gaze off Mr. James. “What happened?” He holstered the weapon then tore the duct tape from the man’s wrist.

“Aarrghh!” Mr. James jumped, the chair bouncing.

Tim winced when he noticed the arm hairs stuck to the tape in his hand. “Sorry ’bout that.” He paused over the other strip. “This one’s gonna hurt, too.”

Mr. James pursed his lips and nodded bravely. He let out a tiny hiss when Tim freed his second arm. That one didn’t take as much hair because a silver bracelet had protected most of the skin. Obviously, those punks had been amateurs in restraining.

“Sorry,” Tim said again.

Rubbing his wrists, he let out a breathy laugh. “It’s okay. Thank you for saving my life.”

“I believe that’s what I was paid for. I’m Tim Burkhart, your private security detail.”

Mr. James’s smile made his heart flutter. No, probably just the adrenaline. Tim didn’t get butterflies.

“Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Burkhart.”

“Call me Tim.” He stood and withdrew his phone. He gestured toward his bound legs. “You okay to get those? I gotta call the cops.”

“No!”

Tim almost dropped his phone when Mr. James shouted. He gaped at the man. “What do you mean no?”

Prying tape off of his khaki pants, the man paused. Those big green eyes grew even wider. “You can’t call the cops. My whole life depends on it!”

 

Buy the book: http://decadentpublishing.com/coming-soon/

 

Meet the author:

 

Deanna Wadsworth might be a bestselling erotica author, but she leads a pretty vanilla life in Ohio with her wonderful husband and a couple adorable cocker spaniels. She has been spinning tales and penning stories since childhood, and her first erotic novella was published in 2010. She has served multiple board positions at her local RWA chapter and with Rainbow Romance Writers of America. When she isn’t writing books or brainstorming with friends, you can find her making people gorgeous in a beauty salon. She loves music and dancing, and can often be seen hanging out on the sandbar in the muddy Maumee River or chilling with her hubby and a cocktail in their basement bar. In between all that fun, Deanna cherishes the quiet times when she can let her wildly active imagination have the full run of her mind. Her fascination with people and the interworkings of their relationships have always inspired her to write romance with spice and love without boundaries.

Where to find the author:

 

Website │Facebook │ Twitter │Pinterest │goodreads │Amazon │Instagram

 

You can also find her young adult alter ego, K.D. Worth Facebook │Twitter

 

Buy Deanna’s books at Dreamspinner Press, Decadent Publishing or at any reputable eBook seller like Amazon

 

Goodreads Link: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4264579.Deanna_Wadsworth

Publisher: Decadent Publishing

Cover Artist: Fiona Jade
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Too Good To Be True by Deanna Wadsworth Tour with Excerpt and Giveaway

Banner300x250Disgraced former FBI agent Tim Burkhart desperately wants to reclaim his life and find happiness. Relocating his fledgling private security company to Miami—where his ex-wife moved their two daughters—hopefully is a start. When he’s hired to provide protection for an antiques dealer on his way to Scotland to sell a priceless ancient dirk, Tim believes the break he’s been waiting for has finally arrived. Maybe now he can make enough money to hire a lawyer and get shared parenting of his little girls.
Elliot James runs the antique shop he inherited after his grandfather’s death. Lonely and swimming in debt, he longs for a way to turn his life around but keeps making one mistake after another. Then he finds the ancient dirk tucked away among junk as he’s cleaning out his grandfather’s home. Placing it up for sale, he is thrilled when an out of country buyer purchases the priceless antique. The buyer wants the dirk immediately and sends Tim to ensure Elliot safely delivers it on time.
The moment Tim and Elliot meet, however, everything falls apart. Between break-ins, shoot-outs, stalkers, totaled cars, and the cops, it seems Tim and Elliot will never get to Scotland by the deadline. Despite all the obstacles, an unexpected attraction pulls them together, offering each man a glimmer of hope. But if they don’t deliver the dirk on time, they won’t get paid and neither of them will be able to pick up the pieces of their lives.
Will they complete this job and find a happily ever after, or is all of this really too good to be true?

Pages or Words: 36,000 words

Categories: Light suspense, M/M Romance, Romance

Excerpt:
Staring down the sights of his Colt 1911 and into the panicked eyes of the young man, Tim said, “Keep your hands where I can see ’em. I want to know where Mr. James is and why you’re in his store.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Tim saw a flash of metal. Instinctively he dropped to the floor. The sharp crack of a bullet shot through the store, shattering something on his left.
The guy behind the counter made a run for the door.
Tim rolled behind the armoire, gritting his teeth when the door slammed shut and the first guy got away. Careful to stay out of sight, Tim assessed the shooter who’d come from the back room. He looked as young and inexperienced as the one who’d run. Tim recognized the weapon in his hand—a 9mm semi-automatic Beretta. Though Tim’s .45 could out-shoot the little pea-shooter at the range, he had no interest in finding out who was the better shot in real life.
“¿Adónde vas? ¡Esperame!” the shooter yelled to his retreating friend.
Wait for me. Tim knew enough Spanish. The guy planned to make a run for it, too. He clambered to his feet. Before he could tackle and subdue him, the kid aimed his Beretta in the general direction of the armoire and fired off a volley of shots.
“Shit!” Tim dove behind a stack of rugs to dodge the bullets.
The gun went silent.
Tim rolled fast onto his back, his 1911 aimed, only to watch the kid flying out the door behind his friend. The door bounced a few times until it closed, the bells clanging.
“Shit! Shit!”
The scraping sounds in the back room, louder than before, drew his attention once more.
As fast as he could, he crept around the counter, his heart pounding. Both hands on his gun, trigger finger resting on the frame and trigger guard, he took a quick peek into the room, ducking back before a possible third perp could make him.
In less than a heartbeat, his brain registered what he’d seen. He exhaled. Keeping his gun lowered but at-the-ready, he entered.
In the center of what looked like a storage room sat the man Tim had been hired to escort to Scotland. He’d been gagged and duct-taped to a chair.
Elliot James.
“Is anyone else here?” Tim murmured.
Mr. James shook his head wildly.
With a relieved sigh, he rushed over to the man and yanked the gag out. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” He gasped for air. “I’m fine.”
“Were there only two?” he clarified, eyes still peeled for danger.
“Yeah,” he managed, his face flushed and startling green eyes wide. Sandy-brown curls fell across the brow of a very frightened but very beautiful man. He took a few slow, ragged breaths, obviously trying to calm himself. “Just the two of them.”
Tim took a steadying breath of his own and slowly released the hammer on his Colt and flipped the safety up, never taking his gaze off Mr. James. “What happened?” He holstered the weapon then tore the duct tape from the man’s wrist.
“Aarrghh!” Mr. James jumped, the chair bouncing.
Tim winced when he noticed the arm hairs stuck to the tape in his hand. “Sorry ’bout that.” He paused over the other strip. “This one’s gonna hurt, too.”
Mr. James pursed his lips and nodded bravely. He let out a tiny hiss when Tim freed his second arm. That one didn’t take as much hair because a silver bracelet had protected most of the skin. Obviously, those punks had been amateurs in restraining.
“Sorry,” Tim said again.
Rubbing his wrists, he let out a breathy laugh. “It’s okay. Thank you for saving my life.”
“I believe that’s what I was paid for. I’m Tim Burkhart, your private security detail.”
Mr. James’s smile made his heart flutter. No, probably just the adrenaline. Tim didn’t get butterflies.
“Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Burkhart.”
“Call me Tim.” He stood and withdrew his phone. He gestured toward his bound legs. “You okay to get those? I gotta call the cops.”
“No!”
Tim almost dropped his phone when Mr. James shouted. He gaped at the man. “What do you mean no?”
Prying tape off of his khaki pants, the man paused. Those big green eyes grew even wider. “You can’t call the cops. My whole life depends on it!”

Buy the book: http://decadentpublishing.com/coming-soon/

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-toogoodtobetrue1nightstand-2057745-340.html

Meet the author:

Deanna Wadsworth might be a bestselling erotica author, but she leads a pretty vanilla life in Ohio with her wonderful husband and a couple adorable cocker spaniels. She has been spinning tales and penning stories since childhood, and her first erotic novella was published in 2010. She has served multiple board positions at her local RWA chapter and with Rainbow Romance Writers of America. When she isn’t writing books or brainstorming with friends, you can find her making people gorgeous in a beauty salon. She loves music and dancing, and can often be seen hanging out on the sandbar in the muddy Maumee River or chilling with her hubby and a cocktail in their basement bar. In between all that fun, Deanna cherishes the quiet times when she can let her wildly active imagination have the full run of her mind. Her fascination with people and the interworkings of their relationships have always inspired her to write romance with spice and love without boundaries.
Where to find the author:

Website │Facebook │ Twitter │Pinterest │goodreads │Amazon │Instagram

You can also find her young adult alter ego, K.D. Worth Facebook │Twitter

Buy Deanna’s books at Dreamspinner Press, Decadent Publishing or at any reputable eBook seller like Amazon

Goodreads Link: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4264579.Deanna_Wadsworth
Publisher: Decadent Publishing
Cover Artist: Fiona Jade
Tour Dates & Stops:
17-Jun: Elaine White
24-Jun: Bayou Book Junkie
1-Jul: Happily Ever Chapter, MM Good Book Reviews
8-Jul: V’s Reads
15-Jul: A.M. Leibowitz
22-Jul: Kimi-Chan, Man2ManTastic, Book Lovers 4Ever, The Novel Approach
29-Jul: My Fiction Nook, Boy Meets Boy Reviews
5-Aug: Dawn’s Reading Nook, EE Montgomery
12-Aug: Making It Happen
19-Aug: BFD Book Blog
26-Aug: Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews
2-Sep: Inked Rainbow Reads
9-Sep: Havan Fellows
16-Sep: Velvet Panic, Alpha Book Club
23-Sep: Outrageous Heroes, Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words
30-Sep: Molly Lolly, Unquietly Me

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