Saturday, April 25, 2015

The Price by: Andrew Grey w/Giveaway

Title: The Price  
Author: Andrew Grey
Series: NA
Genre:  M/M Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Release Date: April 17 2015
Edition/Formats Available In: eBook & Print
Hunter Wolfe is a highly paid Las Vegas escort with a face and body that have men salivating and paying a great deal for him to fulfill their fantasies.  He keeps his own keeps and doesn’t share, not that they matter. 
Grant is an elementary school teacher and works miracles with his summer school students.  He discovered his gift while in high school, tutoring Hunter, a fellow student.    They meet again when Hunter rescues Grant in a club.   Grant doesn’t know Hunter is an escort or that they share similarly painful pasts involving family members’ substance abuse.  

After the meeting, Hunter invites Grant to one of the finest restaurants in Las Vegas. Hunter is charming, sexy, and gracious, and Grant is intrigued. With more in common than they realized, the two men decide to give a relationship a try.  At first, Grant believes he can deal with Hunter's profession and accepts that Hunter will be faithful with his heart if not his body.  Both men find their feeling run deeper than either imagined. For Grant, it's harder than he thought to accept Hunter’s occupation, and Hunter's feelings for Grant now make work nearly impossible.   But Hunter’s choice of profession comes with a price, which could involve Grant’s job and their hearts—a price that may be too high for either of them to pay.

“All right.” Hunter flashed a smile and the man calmed. “I’m heading out myself. I’ll show you.” It wasn’t hard. The area was only a long, winding hallway, so it wasn’t like they could get lost, but he led the man back toward the entrance. “Where is your date?”
“Probably still upstairs with the six other instant friends he just made.” The guy huffed. “Sorry, I don’t mean to sound like a prude. I guess I wasn’t expecting to make a public spectacle of my lily-white ass on the first date.”
A sense of humor in a crisis—Hunter liked that. They passed couples having a good time, a few making plenty of noise, but Hunter ignored them and went into client mode: he paid attention to the guy he was with. “Why did you let him bring you here?”
“He said he wanted to go dancing. I guess I thought that meant… you know, dancing. Like, out there. I didn’t realize he meant the horizontal hula in front of half the people on the dance floor.” They reached the entrance, and Hunter ushered the man though.
“Here you are.” Hunter almost added something about being back safe and sound, but kept quiet. He had learned early on that you never know who your next client will be, and the guy you tease at a club today could be the same guy who opens the door, takes one look at you, and cancels the appointment tomorrow. “Will you be okay?” He walked with the man out past the bouncer and into the main club.
“Yeah, I guess.” The man turned to him, and Hunter caught his gaze. Up close and in a little more friendly light, he gazed at the man for a few seconds. He looked familiar, but Hunter couldn’t place him. “Do we know each other?” Hunter ran through his recent clients, but knew that wasn’t where he knew him from. It was earlier than that, from his more distant past. “I’m Hunter.”
“Grant,” the man said and then inhaled sharply. “Oh my God, you’re Hunter Wolfson from high school. You were the captain of the wrestling team. I remember.” He looked Hunter over. “Damn, you look good.” He smiled and then chuckled slightly. “I’m sure you don’t remember me.”
Hunter tried like hell to place the other man, but couldn’t do it. Now that he had context, he ran though the people he’d gone to school with and tried to remember a Grant.
“I had glasses back then, and we were in English together.” The smile faded from Grant’s face.
“I remember you.” Hunter smiled. “We sat across the aisle from each other and you helped me get through that damned literature class that nearly got me kicked off the team. You were great.” They hadn’t been friends, not really, but at least now he remembered Grant. “You don’t look like the kid that Kressman tried to shove in a locker.”
“I guess not. But you still look like the guy who beat the crap out of him for doing it.” Grant smiled.
Hunter remembered that. “Kressman was a complete ass and had to have someone to pick on in order to feel like a man. What a jackoff.” God, he hadn’t thought about high school in quite a while. “My friends and I have a table over there. Since your date abandoned you, you can join us for a drink if you like. By the way, I go by Hunter Wolf now.” Hunter motioned toward his friends, and after Grant agreed, he led him over to the table. Cameron had joined them, and Hunter made introductions, then found Grant a chair, and the others moved around to make room.
“How was it?” Ember asked.
“About what you’d expect. There are two levels. That’s the second one.” Hunter pointed to the opening, and Ember nodded, and after taking a look, turned back to the group.
“So no problems?” Cameron asked.
“Well, Grant’s date’s idea of a meet-and-greet was to take him up there.” Hunter felt Grant stiffen next to him.
“What a tool,” Ember said. “You need to be in touch with people and understand what they want, not just what you want.”
“Ember is the guru of the group,” Hunter said, and the others smirked. Instantly, Hunter thought about the sheep incident and had to wipe the grin off his face.
A man approached the table and stopped beside Ember. He asked if he wanted to dance. Ember finished his drink and stood.
“He’s gorgeous,” Grant mumbled, and Hunter growled under his breath before he realized what he was doing. Jealousy? Hunter knew it wasn’t that. He was just competitive as hell, and no one got the better of him. Hunter stood and took off his jacket. Grant shifted his gaze, and Hunter saw him swallow hard. Yeah, that was the reaction he’d been expecting. Ember be damned—he could turn the head of any man in this place.

Friday, April 24, 2015

Designs of Desire by: Tempeste O'Riley w/ Interview

Title: Designs of Desire
Author: Tempeste O’Riley
Series:  Desires Entwined, #1
Genre: M/M Erotic Romance, with lite BDSM/Kink
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Release Date: July 2013
Edition/Formats Available In: Audio, eBook, Print
Artist James Bryant has forearm crutches in every color from rainbow for fun to sleek black for business. He even has a pair with more paint splatters than metal. After his family’s rejection and abuse from a man he thought loved him, James only just gets through the day by painting. He lives in constant fear that he’s not worthy of anything, let alone love.
As CEO of his company, Carrington Enterprises, Seth Burns is a take-charge kind of guy, and he is instantly smitten by the artist helping with his newest project. When he witnesses James suffer a panic attack, a protective instinct he never knew he had kicks in. He truly believes nothing is unobtainable—including James—if he’s willing to put in the time and effort.

James is shy and confused by Seth’s interest in him as a person. With Seth’s support, can he work through his fears to finally find the true love he deserves, or will someone finally land the crushing blow he won’t survive?

James allowed his gaze to wander around the entryway, taking in the welcoming setting. Noticing a worker passing through, he asked, “Excuse me. Do you know where I can find Mr. Burns?”
“Yeah, he’s in the manager’s office over there.” The man was covered in dust. He gestured toward a closed door near a large desk, then continued on his way. James couldn’t help looking around once more to admire the rich wood tones, marble tiled floors, and beautiful crown molding, before he headed off in the right direction.
Before he could knock, the door swung open and a harried looking woman stormed out, slamming it so hard it popped back open. Maybe now isn’t the best time, he thought and started to turn away when Mr. Burns appeared in the doorway.
“James,” he said. “Thank God you’re here. Please tell me you brought some ideas, before Stacey drives me to drink. She wants to start painting but can’t until we have everything settled with the designs.”
The way Seth’s eyes pierced him made James feel both nervous and ten feet tall at the same time. “If you have some place I can set up, sure. I have a few designs for you to look over.” He kept wondering why they had waited so long to employ Skye Designs. Normally you do all the branding much earlier in the project.
Motioning down the hallway, Seth led him into a large room—probably meant to be a conference or reception room, considering the carpet and acoustic tiles in the ceiling. “Come in. What can I do to help?” he asked, watching James settle into a comfortable chair before unloading his pack.
James was nervous. He’d never had such a significant or large account before, but he was excited as well. “We normally have the designs approved before getting to this point, but I’ll do my best to catch up. Give me just a minute to set up, then you can see what I have.”
“We’ll get to that in a few. I want you to finish setting up then come with me.”
James stopped midmotion and looked up, confused. “I thought—” He shook his head. “Never mind. Okay.”
Seth led James out of the room, into a wide hallway with large windows spilling filtered sunlight onto the veined marble floor, and began showing him around. Seth stayed close, so close James occasionally caught a whiff of his intoxicating scent, something bright yet deep—cardamom and cedar with a light musk. He wasn’t sure, but he was beginning to think just being near Seth could become a delicious addiction.
As they exited the elevator on the second floor, James stopped dead in his tracks. His heart beat so fast and loud he felt certain Seth would hear it slamming into his ribs. He stared ahead and prayed he was having a terrible nightmare. Those he could wake up from. Please!
Standing there, looking him up and down, was a phantom from his past. Victor d’Leone was even more powerfully built than the last time he had seen him. He stood in the hall, his arms crossed over his barrel chest, scowling. The sea-foam green eyes James once thought so beautiful and loving now bored holes through him. The ghosts of the last time Vic had been near him shot pain-filled shards of memory through him. Away. Yes, he had to get away.
“I… I… I…,” James stammered. He scrambled back into the elevator and almost fell when his left crutch slipped on the metal edging. He punched the close door button repeatedly while fighting the panic attack threatening to destroy his job and sanity. “No, no, no. Not happening,” he mumbled.
He hadn’t waited for Seth to react, nor had he explained anything; he’d just bolted. James headed toward the exit as soon as the elevator doors opened—forget the damn presentation. He scrambled for the steps, desperate to reach the car before he completely lost it.
Life was never that easy.
Seth appeared out of nowhere, sprinting after him in his expensive Armani suit and custom leather shoes. “James! Stop!” he commanded.
Fighting the panic, James tried to get a hold of himself. Stop? Is he nuts? “I can’t be here. I—I’ll come back later.” With protection!
A powerful hand grasped his right arm. Startled, he stopped. Staring at the hand that bound him to his worst nightmare, he begged, “Please, let me go.”
Try as he might, he couldn’t stop the panic and fear as it suffocated him.


Never Cross A Warlock by: Marilyn Vix

Title: Never Cross a Warlock
Author: Marilyn Vix
Series: Beware of Warlocks (3)
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher:  Shadowcat Publishing
Release Date: Mar 25 2015
Edition/Formats Available In: eBook
Can two warlocks be too many?
Yes, if one happens to be your ex-husband trying to kill you for a witch divorce.
The other, a sexy Aussie that makes you forget all the rest.

That’s Catherine Bank’s warlock problem. She will have to choose between the two of them. Will she marry either, or end it all in a spell battle that will bring Las Vegas to its knees. Only time will tell. No one knows the mind of a witch better than herself. Unless, she falls in love.

From Chapter 3 of Never Cross A Warlock
I slid out of my bar chair faster than I’d ever made an exit. I had to regroup. Nothing like a quiet bathroom stall to clarify your thoughts.
I made it through the bathroom door and stumbled into an empty stall. Sitting on the toilet, a stream of tears burst forth. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. I let it happen. Nothing like a good purge to get some sense back into a girl. Was I really ready for a life with Jeff? I felt the soul binding telling me he was the one to stick it out through thick and thin. But then, I thought so with Rich, too. But he’d never done the soul-binding spell. Just the marriage spell, and then we went on a shopping spree, buying houses, cars, and anything else that he thought my money, and now his, could buy. I was so stupid. He was such a cock suck up.
I heard a knock on my stall door. “You okay in there?”
I snuffled, using some toilet paper to clean up the snot from my nose.
“Yeah. Men suck.” I wouldn’t say warlocks. This was a mixed club.
“I agree with you there, girl. Just let me know if you need something.”
I blew my nose a couple of times, wiping off any excess, then stood, straightened my dress, and flushed all the tissue down the toilet. There. My man tears were spent. Time to move on and try to make a decision. I opened the stall door and saw the attendant ready to hand me a towel.
I added a quick “Thank you” before dabbing at my streaked make-up. I was going to have to do some reapplying.
“Sometimes this is the best place to come and let it all out, dear,” added the attendant.
“I’m totally embarrassed,” I said as I tried to make something out of my raccoon eyes. I’d just gone old-fashioned tonight. No added spells instead of make-up. I liked going all natural, as I called it. I really didn’t need spell enhancing, and was proud of that. Not every witch could claim to have a spell-free appearance. I started going through my purse for items to reapply and make better the mess on my face. My brown hair kept flopping in front of my eyes. It was getting distracting.
“Don’t be. I get a lot of woman crying out their man problems in here.”
“Hear any good solutions?” I started to reapply some liner, giving up on the mascara. I figured just adding more base and rouge would make me presentable again.
“Yes. Most of the answers involve kicking the scoundrels out of their lives, or forgiving them. I’m guessing one of those options might fit yours.”
“It does in one case.” I laughed. Throwing Rich out of my life would seem fit, if I lived through his retaliation. “I think getting rid of him is the best option.” I smiled at the thought of it.
“Oh, girl, two men. That’s always a problem.” The attendant smiled, leaving me to my make-up repairs. Just then, a toilet flushed and the stall opened. In the mirror, I recognized the woman exiting. It was Cassandra.
I wasn’t sure how much she’d heard. She came up to the sink next to me, rinsing her hands. My lips pursed, and I tried to play it coy. I looked in the mirror to touch up my rouge, but I saw my cheeks were plenty red without it. Maybe she wouldn’t notice it was me.
“Cat?” Her voice actually sounded surprised.
Shit. “Cassandra?”

Saturday, April 18, 2015

Ill Fated by: Rachel Rawlings w/ Interview

Title: Ill Fated
Author: Rachel Rawlings
Series: Maurin Kincaide #6
Genre: Dark Urban Fantasy
Publisher: R Squared Publishing
Release Date: Feb 11 2015
Edition/Format Available In: eBook & Print
Some things are destined to end in death. After the first attempt on her life Maurin wasn’t scared. Hell, she was almost flattered. But someone put a price on her head and things are getting complicated. Trouble is brewing in the fae courts and it’s spilling over into Salem. The UnSeelie Dark Guard have answered the call for her head on a platter and people closest to her are disappearing.
Can Maurin master court politics and find her missing men before someone claims the bounty on her head? 

No one should be awake at four in the morning. Especially me. I ripped the plug for my alarm clock out of the wall around three-thirty.
I forgot about the batteries.
The numbers on the clock taunted me like a green-eyed devil until I finally got out of bed. I fumbled in the dark to make a pot of coffee, refusing to turn on the kitchen light and formally acknowledge the day. I pulled my favorite mug out of the cabinet and filled it before settling at my table.
The dream came every night - technically morning - at three o'clock. I was used to running on little-to-no sleep, this bordered on ridiculous. Yesterday at the range I shot a target in the lane on my left. Fortunately, it had been Mason's and I played everything off by exaggerating my sharp-shooting skills. Someone else could have had me banned. As it was, Mason thought I was being a competitive brat.
I wasn't sure I preferred that to being a sleep-deprived danger to others.
I scratched my neck, pausing when I felt the delicate silver chain. I followed it down to the apple branch charm which rested on my chest. Weird. I could have sworn I took it off last night. I slid the charm back and forth as I went over the dream. Again.
After the first week, I’d broken down and started analyzing it. According to Freud, I had mommy issues. No surprise there. I seriously doubted my relationship - or lack thereof - with my adoptive mother was the cause of the recurring dream.
I fired up the laptop, unwilling to cease my search for answers. Instead of the trippy New Age sites I checked out last night, I went back to my trusty Google. I nodded off twice as I scanned the results.
What the hell did an old woman washing clothes in a river have to do with me? I might have written it off as paranoia or a side effect of all the spicy food I'd been eating, if not for the haggard old woman crooking her bony finger at me and called my name - every time.
I finally got a hit on an obscure mythology website. Bean Nighe, the washer woman of the Highlands. She scrubbed the bloody linens of those doomed to die. Knowing she was fae bothered me more than the knowledge the clothes she washed every night were mine. Impending death I could handle. Hell, I'd slipped through the Reaper's grasp more than once. The Fae on the other hand, well they could be tricky
The phone rang just as I got up for a refill. The fact someone else was not only awake at this ungodly hour,but calling me, meant it was bad news. No one who valued their life called me before noon unless it was an emergency - one of the perks of my new position as Regulator.
I was now in charge of one investigator, two trackers and a team of cleaners. It was a lot like it sounds. We investigate, we track and we clean up. We clean up everything, no loose ends. You don't ever want to find yourself in need of a cleaner. Late hours came with the new job, hence the “no calls before noon” rule.
I glanced at the screen before answering and recognized the number immediately. It helped I had been dialing it for the last four years - it used to belong to Captain Matthison. Of course Mason, my fae boyfriend and member of the Wild Hunt, was the captain of SPTF now.
We'd been officially dating for a couple months, moved well past first base. Hell, I had a key to his apartment. Granted I hadn’t used it since the night he gave it to me. I'd been dragging my feet, leaving deep ruts in my wake where our relationship was concerned. My track record wasn't all that great. I'd rushed in before, once because I was spelled and once because I wanted to.
Neither ended well.
Things were going great. I was afraid if I labeled it, changed it in anyway, the change would be catastrophic. Thankfully, Mason was a patient man.
Except when it came to a four a.m. phone call. My phone stopped then immediately started ringing again.
My answer was short and to the point. "Morning."
"You're awake?" He sounded more than a little surprised.
"I'm not really sure the state I'm in qualifies as awake."
"Here I was, terrified to poke the dragon, and you're already drinking coffee and talking in complete sentences."
I snorted and took a sip of the aforementioned liquid gold. "Are you always like this in the morning?"
"If you'd let me sleep over you'd already know the answer to that question. Why aren't you asleep?"
In general or just tonight, I silently wondered. "Bad dream. I've been tossing and turning all night. I finally gave in and got out of bed."  
Papers rustled in the background and when he spoke again, his voice was lower, intimate, "You want to talk about it?"
"Something tells me my nightmares are the least of our problems."
"You have no idea. I need you to come down to my office."
I sighed. "Can it at least wait until after sunrise?"
"Would I be breaking the ‘no phone calls before noon’policy if it could wait?"
“There really is no rest for the wicked, is there?”
He laughed and the sound warmed me more than a hundred cups of coffee. "Apparently not, in your case. Now, there's a dirty chai latte and a croissant for you if you're here before Amalie. I can't promise real coffee and pastries will survive beyond five minutes of her arrival."
"It's four-thirty in the morning, Mas. If you know what's good for you, you'll make sure at least one dirty chai and croissant remain unmolested."
"I'll see you soon." He was laughing as he hung up the phone.
Three hours ago, I’d practically crawled through the doorway, exhausted from cleaning up after a newbie vamp who’d broken the Jus Sanguinis Intergentes when she killed her donor. The blood pact between people and vampires had a clear ‘no killing, no exceptions’ clause.
It was up to the maker to ensure their child was ready to feed unsupervised. If something went wrong and the Council found out about it, we cleaned up the mess and the sire was subject to heavy fines and possible revocation of their rights to expand their blood lines. She’d been quite literally a bitch to track and take down.
It had been a long night and it was shaping up to be an even longer day.
I wasted little time getting dressed, opting for a slip-on black jersey dress, eighteen hole Docs and a leather jacket. Jewelry was a hindrance in my line of work. My meeting with Mason could easily turn into a run. Choked with my own chain? No, thank you. Unclasping the necklace, I set it in a glass dish on my bathroom counter. I ran a brush through my hair, a toothbrush over my teeth and slipped into the Between. I stepped out of the alley two buildings down from the station and walked the last block and a half.
Amalie was swarmed by detectives trying to get at the goodies she brought over from the Daily Grind. She greeted me with a warm smile, shaking her head when I offered to pull her out of the fray. She had managed to endear herself to the entire department in record time. All it took was real coffee and fresh pastries. I pointed to Mason's office. She'd make her way over once the starving masses had their fill.
Mason was so engrossed in the file on his desk he didn't hear me come in. He looked as tired as I felt - too many double shifts. Despite an uptick in activity, SPTF was short-staffed due to budget cuts. Without enough man power to staff the shifts properly, overtime was mandatory.
"Is that for me?" I pointed at the to-go cup and white paper bag on his desk.
He finally looked up and gave me a smile which lit up his whole face. "As promised."
I stole a quick kiss, grabbed the coffee and croissant, and settled in the chair across from him. I took a long sip of my latte, savoring the delicious mix of tea and espresso. "Man, I needed this. Is that the case you're working on?"
"Yeah, we've got a real problem on our hands."
"Don't we always." I tried to peek at the file.
Mason closed the manila folder. "I'd rather wait until everyone is here."
"Who else is coming besides Amalie?" My curiosity was definitely peaked now. I reached across his desk, hoping to grab the file.
"You look exhausted. Tell me about your dream while we wait."
I narrowed my eyes and glared at him. "I see this for the obvious distraction it is.” Sighing, I rubbed my temple. “However, I'm exhausted, too exhausted to argue. So I'll tell you. Prepare to be confounded."
He listened intently as I filled him in on the nightly visits from the weathered old woman who washed my clothes and hauntingly called my name. I expected him to laugh and tell me it was just a dream, that I had nothing to worry about.
I didn't expect him to look so stricken.
"Bean Nighe." He whispered the name.
"You've heard of her?"
"Of course I've heard of her. How long has she been coming to you?"
I stared at him curiously. "A few weeks. Why?"
When I agreed to give this thing with Mason a chance I also agreed to some conditions. No more flying solo, no more rash decisions or rushing off to play the hero. We were a team, in everything. This was just one of many setbacks.
"A few weeks and this is the first I'm hearing of it?” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, obviously struggling to control his temper. “We talked about this. No holding things back, remember?"
"I thought it was just a dream.” I shrugged. “Honestly, I didn't think it was a big deal."
"It was a big enough deal for you to research it." Agitation rolled off him in waves.
"I got curious, did a little digging. Until tonight, everything I found pointed to deep-seated family issues, particularly with a mother figure. I've told you about my childhood, does that dream analysis surprise you?"
His growl told me he wasn’t in the mood for reasonable explanations. "When did you discover the true meaning of the dream? How long have you known about the Bean Nighe?"
"Tonight. This morning. Before you called me." I held up a hand to stop the tongue lashing I knew he wanted to give me. "I would have told you. I got the impression on the phone there were more pressing matters than my insomnia."
"Is this why you won't let me stay at your place?” His gaze roamed over my face, searching. “Why you never stay at mine?"
"Is that the real reason why you're so upset?" I arched my brows. “Because we’re not having sleepovers?”
"I stayed at your lovely apartment the first night we met."
I turned to watch Aidan glide into the room, stopping behind my chair. Rolling my eyes, I snorted and muttered, “In the closet.”
Mason's jaw twitched, but he didn't take the bait. "Aidan."
"It's almost sunrise. Shouldn't you be hunkered down for the day?" I sighed, wondering what he was doing here. I was too tired to deal with Aidan and Mason and their combined testosterone.

Friday, April 17, 2015

Chasing the Star Garden by: Melanie Karsak

Title: Chasing the Star Garden
Author: Melanie Karsak
Series: The Airship Racing Chronicles (1)
Genre: Steampunk
Publisher: Clockpunk Press
Release Date: Audio Book Sept 2014
Edition/Format Available In: Audio/eBook/Print
An opium-addicted beauty.
An infamous poet living in self-imposed exile.
An ancient treasure about to fall into the wrong hands.
Melanie Karsak's Chasing the Star Garden takes readers on a thrilling adventure from the gritty opium dens of gaslamp London to the gem-colored waters of the ancient world. Lily Stargazer, a loveable but reckless airship racer with a famous lover and shattered past, reluctantly plunges into a centuries-old mystery in a romantic adventure best described as Dan Brown meets Mary Shelley.
It all begins on one of the worst days of Lily’s life. She just lost the London leg of the 1823 Airship Grand Prix. To top it off, a harlequin fleeing from constables shoved a kaleidoscope down her pants, told her to fly to Venice, then threw himself from her airship tower. What’s a girl to do? For Lily, the answer is easy: drink absinthe and smoke opium.
Lily’s lover, Lord Byron, encourages her to make the trip to Venice. Lily soon finds herself at the heart of an ancient mystery which has her running from her past and chasing true love and the stars along the way.

**Due to steamy scenes and depictions of drug use, this novel is intended for mature readers.**

“Lord Byron?” I said, surprised, as I tried to pull myself together. I mopped the sweat from my brow. As always, the fucking nightmares. Would it ever end? “Now, what brings you to this den of sin?”
“I looked for you after the race. I couldn’t find you anywhere. Naturally, then, I knew you would be here,” he said, sitting down on the cot beside me. He lifted the pipe and took a toke. How handsome he looked in the dim light, his chestnut colored hair curling around his ears, his skin, with its alabaster sheen, making him look otherworldly. His pouty red lips always seemed hungry. And then there were his eyes, as clear and blue as a spring sky.
“I’ve missed you, but why are you in London?” I asked him. He handed the pipe to me. I inhaled deeply. The opium made a haze of everything. I felt like I was experiencing the world from a forty foot distance.
“Some legal matters needed immediate and personal attention. And I came, of course, for the race. But I’m leaving for Athens at dawn,” he said, stroking my leg. He toked again then poured himself a glass of absinthe from the small decanter beside the cot. He popped a sugar cube and drank the absinthe in one long swallow.
“So soon?” I said with a sly grin as I grabbed hold of his belt, my fingers inside his pants.
“That’s time enough,” he replied, “unless, of course, my absence has cured your love for me,” Byron said with a smile.
“Of course. It is the duty of a lover to love. Ah, but I forget myself. I have a gift for you,” Byron replied.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wooden box. He handed it to me.
I took another toke then set the pipe down. “What is this for?”
“Your service to your country,” he replied.
“Ah yes, how the British love a loser.”
Byron leaned in and kissed my cheek and ear. “We are giants. That is the reason we cannot tolerate anything less than excellence. Open it,” he whispered.
I opened the lid to discover a small metal pin tinkered into the shape of a lily. “It’s beautiful.”
“Ah, but that’s not all. Watch,” he said and tapped one of the intricately designed carpels extending from the center of the lily. With that, the flower came to life. The petals flexed up and down as if they were in the breeze, the carpels waving in coordination. “A lily that never loses its fragrance. A delicacy that never wilts. It is common metal, yes, but strikingly beautiful in its complexity.”
I stared at it. It was amazing. I set the box down, and lying back, pulled Byron on top of me. I kissed him deeply, my tongue roving inside his mouth, my fingers twisting around his curly hair. I could taste the sugar and alcohol on his lips. His intoxicating scent of patchouli and orange blossom overwhelmed me.

 Melanie Karsak is the author of the Amazon best-selling steampunk series The Airship Racing Chronicles, the award-winning horror/dark fantasy The Harvesting Series, and The Saga of Lady Macbeth. She grew up in rural northwestern Pennsylvania and earned a Master's degree in English from Gannon University. A steampunk connoisseur, Shakespeare nerd, and zombie whisperer, the author currently lives in Florida with her husband and two children. She is an Instructor of English at Eastern Florida State College.

Blog Dispatches from Melanie

Monday, April 6, 2015

Day and Knight by Dirk Greyson (Cover Reveal)

Title: Day and Knight
Author: Dirk Greyson
Series: Day and Knight (Book 1)
Genre: M/M, Contemporary, Adventure
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Release Date: May 4 2015
Edition/Formats: eBook & Print
As former NSA, Dayton (Day) Ingram has national security chops and now works as a technical analyst for Scorpion. He longs for field work, and scuttling an attack gives his chance. He’s smart, multilingual, and a technological wizard. But his opportunity comes with a hitch—a partner, Knighton (Knight), who is a real mystery. Despite countless hours of research, Day can find nothing on the agent, including his first name!
Former Marine Knight crawled into a bottle after losing his family. After drying out, he’s offered one last chance: along with Day, stop a terrorist threat from the Yucatan. To get there without drawing suspicion, Day and Knight board a gay cruise, where the deeply closeted Day and equally closeted Knight must pose as a couple. Tensions run high as Knight communicates very little and Day bristles at Knight’s heavy-handed need for control.
But after drinking too much, Day and Knight wake up in bed. Together. As they near their destination, they must learn to trust and rely on each other to infiltrate the terrorist camp and neutralize the plot aimed at the US’s technological infrastructure, if they hope to have a life after the mission.  One that might include each other.

Dirk is very much an outside kind of man.  He loves travel and seeing new things.  Dirk worked in corporate America for way too long and now spends his days writing, gardening, and taking care of the home he shares with his partner of more than two decades.  He has a Master’s Degree and all the other accessories that go with a corporate job.  But he is most proud of the stories he tells and the life he's built.  Dirk lives in Pennsylvania in a century old home and is blessed with an amazing circle of friends.  
Places to contact Dirk 

Saturday, April 4, 2015

Redeeming Kyle by: Zoey Derrick


Title: Redeeming Kyle
Author: Zoey Derrick
Series: 69 Bottles (Book 3)
Genre: Contemporary Romance, Erotic, LGTB, M/M/F, M/F/M, M/F, F/M , M/M
Publisher: Self Published
Release Date:  Mar 31 2015
Edition/Formats Available In: eBook & Print
Falling in love was the easy part…
For Talon Carver, the commanding and charismatic lead singer of the rock band 69 Bottles, life has never been better—or worse. His heart’s at a full 11 for Addison Beltrand, his feisty PR rep. But admitting it was a much different tune. The dilemma’s even more complicated when adding his other lover to the mix: Kyle Black, the band’s handsome, sweet and sexy manager.
Why ruin a good thing, right? Things are pretty damn perfect for the trio—in and out of bed. But just when they find their best rhythm with each other, a rocky night in Minneapolis forces all three to reexamine their feelings—and take their relationship to new levels.
But can love be enough?

The band’s soaring popularity, along with the pressures of maintaining an unconventional relationship on a high-profile rock tour, start to take their toll. When Addison starts to fall apart, Talon and Kyle must come to terms with how important she is to them both.
Can Addison find the strength to be their glue once more?
What happens when the world goes on…but yours suddenly stops?
When everything looks like it’s going to fall apart? Is love enough to bring Talon, Kyle, and Addison back to each other’s arms…and with it, the magic that true redemption can bring?
****Content Warning****
Sexy, naked, bisexual rock stars…and a lot more…

This book contains, but is not limited to the following sexual content – reader discretion is advised - hot sex between two men and one woman. M/M/F, M/F/M, M/F, F/M and M/M sexual content. There are no boundaries when these three crash together, as long as you’re over 18 years of age.