Showing posts with label Coming Soon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Coming Soon. Show all posts

June 14, 2016

Coming Soon! Excerpt & Giveaway: Heavy Hitters, Caribbean Tales #1 by Taylor V. Donovan


*Standalone Gay Romance Saga

His toughest opponent is himself.

World Boxing Champion Santino Malavé González has been fighting since he was a kid. Poverty, domestic violence, and emotional abuse were early contenders. Guilt and self-loathing were beaten into him at an impressionable age, and now machismo, an integral part of the Latino culture, rules his life. In the ring he’s undefeated. Outside the ropes life constantly hits him below the belt. It takes a sucker punch from his best friend to finally knock the denial out of him and force him to face his true nature like a real man.

A natural born entertainer, Luca Jenaro Betancur Ferrer has grown up serving God, performing, pursuing a career in music, and celebrating life among his tight-knit Catholic family under the scorching Puerto Rican sun. Singing the wrong note on stage is not a mistake the multi-platinum award-winning singer would ever allow. Falling in love with a man is not a transgression his devout family may ever accept. The ties that bind him are strong, but the pull toward his childhood best friend may just be enough to tear it all to shreds.


Anger, mistakes, bigotry, and the need to conform put up a good fight throughout their life journeys. Their religious and chauvinistic society constantly challenges their pursuit of happiness, and only time will tell if their relationship will survive the battles, or if they’ll lose each other by technical knockout.

Releasing June 24, 2016 



“Take this.” Julito handed him the other bag. “It’s your boxing gear.”

“Why’s this here and not in the shed?”

“I’ve been bagging it up every night before going to bed and putting it back in the shed before leaving for work for the last couple of weeks. I told you to put on your shoes.”

Santi obeyed immediately. “Why’d do you do that?”

“I’m ready,” Omayra said from the door, sounding scared, sad, and excited in equal parts.

“We can’t leave without Ma,” Santi repeated. “He’s hitting her because—” He felt like he was choking on his own words. His father didn’t love him. His mom was sending him away because he’d told her he liked boys. She’d failed to stand up for him… hadn’t even tried to reassure him that she’d always want him regardless of who he was. It sucked. “Mami and Papi are disappointed in me,” he forced himself to say. “All this is happening because they think I’m gay.” 

“He’s hitting Ma because he’s an abusive prick,” Omayra countered.

“I’ve got to show him I’m not gay,” Santi whispered. “This is my fault. I’ve got to do everything I can to make things right for Mami.”

“And you’ll start working on it as soon as we’re out.” Julito grabbed his keys and wallet from the milk crate that served as a bedside table and took a few towels from his bed. He looked around the room one more time before pushing Santi toward the door. “We’ve got to go.”

Only muffled noises could be heard in their parents’ bedroom when they ran out of the shack they’d called home for the past two years. That was a good sign. Papi had either passed out, or he’d calmed down.

They were soaking wet by the time they ran across the yard, got inside Julito’s old El Camino and locked the doors.

Julito pushed their bags behind the seat and started the truck. Omayra grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself, then used the other two to cover Santi and Julito before settling between them on the truck’s bench seat. Santi stared at the small, dilapidated ranch through the windshield, the rain, and the darkness of night. None of them said a word as they sped away from the house.

“Where are we going?” Omayra whispered several minutes later, taking Santi’s hand.

“’Uela Esperanza’s,” Julito said quietly as he navigated the dark curvy road down the mountain.

Omayra sniffled and wiped her face. “How will we know if Ma’s okay?”

“I have Sister Dominga’s telephone number,” Julito said. “Ma’ll go to the convent after mass on Sunday and wait for our call.” 

Santi rested his head on the back of the seat and closed his eyes.

He thought about the conversation between himself and his mom. About the stupid Health class that had started this mess. About the moment his dad walked into the bedroom and about the conspiring looks he’d seen pass between Julito and their mom.

“Where’s Héctor?” he asked without opening his eyes.

“He’s living with Titi Migdalia in New York,” Julito said.

Omayra gasped. “But I thought he was still in juvie.”

“They reduced his sentence for good behavior. Papi had said he didn’t want Héctor in his house, and Ma didn’t want him to go back to that hell anyway, so she asked if I could help her buy a plane ticket for him, and I said yes.”

“How long has he been out?” Omayra asked. “Does Pa know?” 

“Six months or so, and no, that bastard doesn’t know,” Julito said with a smile. Santi’s eyes were closed, but he could hear the smile in his brother’s voice. “He’s working in Tío Tato’s bodega and going to school at night. He’s doing fine.”

“I’m so happy to hear that,” Omayra said with a laugh. “That’s a great opportunity for him. I hope he turns things around for himself.”

“When did you plan this?” Santi asked is a shaky voice. “When did Ma decide to get us out of the house?”

“Right after ’Uela Esperanza and Tío Miguel came to visit the last time. She talked to them. Made sure we’d have a safe place to live and a gym where you could start training again. She was hoping it wouldn’t be necessary, but she had to be ready in case—” Julito cleared his throat. “In case you turned out to be gay,” he finished in a careful tone. “She knew Pa would never leave you alone, so we came up with a plan.”

“Taunt Papi and let him think it was his idea to disown us and throw us out of the house?” Omayra snorted. “He’s an idiot, and Ma finally did something right. I wish she’d come with us, though.”

“We’ll figure a way to get her out,” Julito assured her. “Life will be different now. She found a way to give us a chance, guys. Let’s make it count.”

“I never said I am gay,” Santi pointed out. He opened his eyes and looked at his brother and sister, desperate to convince them that he wasn’t a pervert. “I’m not in love with another boy, and it isn’t my fault Papi’s hitting Ma.” He lowered his eyes and stared at the beaded bracelets he’d been squeezing in his hand the entire time. “This mess isn’t my fault…it can’t be my fault… It isn’t! I’m not gay.”

Julito clasped Santi’s shoulder and said, “I know, buddy. I know you wouldn’t let me down that way.” He patted him on the back a couple of times before focusing his attention on the road.

Omayra glared at Julito, and then kissed Santi on the cheek. “I’ll always love you, no matter what you do or who you are,” she whispered as she gave him an understanding smile. “Don’t forget that.”

Santi leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes.

He never let go of the bracelets or Omayra’s hand.



Taylor V. Donovan is a compulsive reader and author of gay romance and suspense. She is optimistically cynical about humanity and a lover of history, museums, and all things 80s. She shamelessly indulges in mind-numbing reality television, is crazy about fashion, and passionate about civil rights and equality for all.

When she’s not writing or making a living in the busiest city in the world, Taylor can be found raising her two daughters and their terribly misbehaved furry baby in their home.



May 17, 2016

Coming Soon! Characters Interview & Excerpt: Welcome To Sortilege Falls by Libby Heily


Sixteen-year-old Grape Merriweather has just moved to Sortilege Falls and already she knows something isn't right. A small pack of teenage models, too beautiful for words, holds the town in their sway. The models have no plans on making Grape's life easy. But no matter how cruel they are to Grape and the other “Normals”, no one can stay angry with them for long.

Grape's life changes for the better, or so she thinks, when Mandy, the only “nice” model, befriends her. But that’s when the trouble truly begins. Mandy's friendship places Grape smack in the middle of a medical mystery that has the entire town on edge. One by one, the models fall ill from an incurable disease. Grape quickly realizes that the models' parents are hiding a secret, even as they watch their children die. To save her only friend, Grape will have to find the truth–and that means putting her life in danger.

Release Date: May 31st


Today, I'll be interviewing two characters from my book, “Welcome to Sortilege Falls.” This feels a little weird for me. It's not everyday your creations come to life and answer your questions. I'm so nervous. What if they don't behave? Better get this over with.

Grape, Liam, would you like to introduce yourselves?

Grape: Hi! My name's Grape. I wish I had a nickname but it's pretty hard to shorten Grape. My family just moved to what I thought was going to be a cute little town in Missouri, but it totally isn't. Not at all.

Liam: Hello, Miss Heily. It is a pleasure to meet you.

Wow, Liam! Your accent is so much crisper in real life. Were you born in Eastern Europe?

Liam: I was born far away, that is most accurate.

That didn't really answer my question but I guess that's okay. Moving on. I want to let Mikky's readers get to know you guys. What are some of your hobbies?

Grape: I love watching movies. Acting's kind of my thing and I really like to watch others perform so I can pick up techniques. Especially anything with Lance Irving. He plays my favorite character, Stone Huntington, Teen PI. I want to be cast on that show so bad!

Liam: Well, my busy schedule does not leave much time for hobbies. I am a nurse and a club owner. The club is more of a coffee house really. I also have a community to watch over.

Grape: Yeah, a community of creepers.

Now, now, we promised no fighting.

Liam: Who is fighting? Grape is, as usual, just a bit sour.

Grape: I never heard that one before.

Try not to strain a muscle rolling your eyes, Grape. Let's move on. How old are you?

Grape: Sixteen. Finally! Getting my license was huge for me. Not that my mom lets me drive that often. She's a doctor and she sees a lot of car wreck victims. So...not much driving for me.

Liam: I am far older than I look.

Grape: Can you give it a rest with the Dracula thing for a bit? It's embarrassing.

Dracula?

Grape: Can't you tell by the way he's dressed that he wants to be a vampire?

I just thought he came from a funeral.

Liam: No, I do usually wear a lot of black. It goes well with my pale skin.

Grape: So would a tan. Maybe you should try a tan.

Getting a little heated in here. Let's keep rolling, huh? If you could spend the day with any one person, who would it be?

Liam: I had to leave someone behind when I moved to Sortilege Falls, someone very close to me. I would spend the day with her, and every day after if I could.

Weird how you answered that and didn't really answer at the same time.

Liam: Details are for friends, my dear. Generalities are for everyone else.

What about you, Grape?

Grape: My dad. Definitely my dad. He passed away a few years ago. I think that's why Mom wanted to move, to be somewhere new. My dad and I were really close. He gave me my name. I miss him. A lot. My mom and brother do, too. It would be nice to see him again.

I'm sorry to hear about your father.

Grape: Thanks.

I tell you what, let's lighten the mood. What is your favorite thing about living in Sortilege Falls?

Liam: The safety, of course. Where I come from, there is much violence. War is constant and unforgiving. Here is peace.

Grape: Wow, I was going to say the mall is okay. I feel a little silly now. We didn't have much war in Virginia. I mean, I've only lived here a few days and I don't have much to go on. There are a lot of gnomes, though. I mean, why does everyone have garden gnomes on their front lawn, and back lawn, and side lawn? They're practically everywhere you look.

Kind of a gnome infestation, huh?

Grape: I don't know. Sometimes I could swear I've seen them breathing. That's crazy, I know. I guess there are just so many of them that you start seeing things.

I'm just going to pretend like that didn't happen. Describe your first meeting.

Grape: Ugh. Well, originally, I saw him talking to a kid outside of my high school during lunch. I thought that was weird because this guy is way too old to hang out with high school kids. I mean waaaaaaaaay too old. But we didn't really meet then.

Liam: No, but I do remember seeing you.

Grape: I know, you practically stared me down.

Liam: I was sizing you up.

Grape: Whatever. Mr. Undead here and I met when I went to his “club” which is not really in town, by the way. It's more on the outskirts, in the woods, near nothing. This is the weirdest thing about Liam, and trust me, everything about this guy is weird, he has a throne in the club. Like an honest-to-goodness throne. Who owns a throne?

Liam: I bought it at a yard sale.

Grape: What?

Liam: People have expectations. I do not wish to disappoint. It is an image thing. Silly really. I feel much more comfortable on the floor but comfort does not a business make.

Grape: Yeah, well, when I went to his club we had a bit of a discussion but Liam shot down my questions pretty quickly.

Liam: You were asking me questions I could not answer in front of people, much like this interview. Secrecy is a must.

So, I take it sparks didn't fly?

Grape: Ewwww. Gross. He's like a million years old. I'm in high school, you do know that, right?

Of course I do.

Liam: Grape Merriweather is right. Love between us would be inappropriate, for many reasons. I also prefer older women. Her mother, on the other hand, is quite stunning.

Grape: Hey!

Liam: I am just stating the obvious.

Okay, let's try to cool this off before an actual fight breaks out. Favorite color? That seems tame enough.

Grape: I hate to admit it but it's purple. In no way should it be, but it is. Purple. Crap. I really wish my name wasn't Grape.

Liam: I know you expect me to say black, everyone does. But it's actually yellow. I look quite handsome in yellow. It is a shame that I rarely get to wear it.

How do you feel about the Models getting sick?

Grape: It's awful. Mandy, she's the only one who's been really friendly, is starting to get stomach aches. That means that she might only be days from dying. We've hung out a few times and I've been over to her house to watch movies. Her life isn't as easy as you would think. I mean, her mom decorated their entire house in pictures of Mandy. How weird is that? And the kids at school follow her around like puppy dogs. They've broken into the stall in the bathroom when she's, you know, peeing just to get a look at her. But despite that, she's a really good person. She stopped a group of Models from picking on me. It's just awful to watch anyone suffer, especially people you care about.

Liam: It is unfortunate, as is all suffering. The Models are paying for the mistakes of others.

Grape: There, see that? Right there? That's the most helpful he gets. You can tell he knows something, but he won't say it.

Liam: We do not reveal our secrets in public. That is how we ensure they remain secrets.

Grape: Really? How am I supposed to find a cure when this is what I run into?

Liam: Perhaps there is no cure. Perhaps there is no help.

Grape: You are such a downer.

Liam: Hmmm? Most people seem to like me.

Grape: Well, I guess I'm not most people.

Liam: You are very correct.

Well, I'd love to say this was a pleasure but, yeah, you guys have made it kind of awkward. I was hoping we could build a bridge here but I guess that won't be happening.

Grape: Sure, we can build a bridge. And then we can push Liam off of it.

Liam: So much hostility in someone so young. I do not understand it.

Grape: I don't even think his accent's real.

Okay, time to get these guys safely back in their book. We don't need a war on your blog. Thanks Mikky for having us over! I promise next time, I'll bring some characters who behave.


Stale air filled the club. The smell was so old, so ancient, that it distracted her for a few moments from the man sitting on a throne in the middle of the room. Even in the dim light, she recognized Graeson’s vampire-wannabe friend. It seemed as if he recognized Grape as well, judging by the pointy-toothed grin he gave her. His tailored black suit and red tie made him look even more like a member of the bloodthirsty undead. Stretched out in front of the throne lay a woman wearing a green bikini beneath a sheer body stocking. Her silky red hair lay splayed out around her. The woman glanced at Graeson and then sealed her gaze on Grape.

“Graeson, you brought a friend,” the vampire said in his clipped accent.

The door shut behind them, sealing out the sunshine. Dull yellow and blue light bathed the room. Candles and strings of Christmas lights provided most of the illumination in the club—that, and the faint glow of the vamp’s skin.

The few patrons in the room looked up from their board game to inspect the newcomers. They sat tucked away in a booth in the far corner. Mugs of steaming coffee were the only things on the table that Grape recognized. She wasn’t sure what their costumes were about, but she noticed that none of them were dressed like vampires, though one did seem to be wearing a werewolf mask.

“Role playing,” the vamp said, catching the direction of Grape’s gaze. “It is a specialty here, no?”

“I can see that,” Grape said, glancing from him to Graeson, the only two people in the room dressed in costumes that were suitable for real life as well. The woman on the floor could have worn hers to the beach, she guessed, but it didn’t look appropriate for an afternoon out.

“Would you like something to drink?" the vamp asked. “Or to eat? This one, I’m sure has a great appetite.” He nodded his head to Grape as he spoke.

“I’m not hungry. What do you mean about my appetite?” How the hell could he know she ate all the time?

“I meant no harm. You are a teenager. Teenagers eat constantly.”

“I’ll have some wine," Graeson said, not looking up from the woman at the vamp’s feet.

“Dear, get our guests some wine.”

The woman stretched out her lanky body. She stood in one elegant motion. Her red hair trailed down her back to the tops of her buttocks. There was no sign of the white cream that Graeson wore, but her skin was deadly pale nonetheless.

“That’s my ex-girlfriend,” Graeson whispered to Grape as the woman walked away.

“No way.” She couldn’t imagine a world where that woman and Graeson dated.

“So, Grape Merriweather has decided to speak to me again,” the vamp said, his eyes twinkling. 

“Not on purpose,” Grape said, her voice flat. She didn’t feel nearly as nervous as she had the day before in the hospital, but that was mostly because it was hard to be intimidated by a man when just behind him sat a boy in troll makeup arguing that the spell he’d used should have vanquished the wood nymph to his right.

“You know her?” Graeson asked his friend.

“We have been acquainted,” the vamp said. “Grape is such an unusual name.”

“My name isn’t the most unusual thing in this room.”

Graeson glanced quizzically from the man on the throne to Grape. “Liam, when did you meet Grape?”

“Liam?” Grape tried hard to keep herself from chuckling. “Like the actor?”

“I was Liam first,” the vamp said. “Many, many years before this so-called actor.



Libby Heily began writing after spending years as an obsessive reader. Nothing was safe from her eyes – she tore through books, magazines, cereal boxes, and shampoo bottles with equal enthusiasm. Libby's written plays, screenplays, flash fiction, short stories, and novels. When not spending time in made up places with invisible friends, she enjoys running, hiking and performing improv in Raleigh, NC. 
Enter to win a copy of Welcome to Sortilege Falls – hosted by Goodreads:


May 6, 2016

Cover Reveal! Soaring Hearts by A.L. Boyd


Will hearts soar when pigs fly?

Alex’s job working for his family-owned radio station once took him all over the city reporting on major events—until the accident. His scars, both physical and emotional, cause him to withdraw into a self-imposed, semi-reclusive lifestyle. When his dad requests that he go to the world’s largest hot air balloon festival, he has to find the courage to break his isolation. Now he needs to find the courage to trust and love again.

Jeff had already been planning a move to Albuquerque when he lost his home, parents, and dog to a wildfire in California. To begin his new life, he agrees to help his sister and brother-in-law with their balloon at the Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta. Now he’s seen pigs fly and bees kissing, but will he find the love he’s been searching for?



A cartographer by day, A.L. Boyd spends most of her free time with her horses, gardening, or reading. She never intended to be a writer, but stories like this one sometimes just pop into her head. The writing came about as a way to get the stories out. Her first story for the Goodreads M/M Romance DRitC event Crest Ridge Vacation was expanded to the novella titled Crest Ridge.


April 18, 2016

Cover Reveal & Exclusive Excerpt! Illuminate the Shadows, Shatterproof Bond #1 by Isobel Starling



The thrilling, funny sequel to 'As You Wish'.

“A Scotsman and an Englishman fall in love…

After the most amazing week of his life at Dunloch Castle on the banks of Loch Ness. The charming, mysterious Samuel Aiken has turned Declan Ramsay's life upside down. Declan has experienced a remarkable change. He has come to terms with the fact he is bisexual, and he has fallen head-over-heels in love with his boss’s son Sam. However, falling for his boss’s son was never going to be an easy path to happiness, mainly because the boss in question is multi-millionaire property tycoon and former MI5 operative, Sir James Aiken. 

Sir James is repulsed by his son’s homosexuality, and so discovering that his employee, Declan Ramsay- the man he installed to run his luxury property rental empire- is in a relationship with Sam, does not go down well. 

The lovers cannot hide from the looming presence of Sir James Aiken for long! Soon enough James makes his move, and Declan will find out what he will have to endure to stay with Sam, and what he will have to give to feel worthy of Sam's love.”

Pre-order links ARe Smashwords Goodreads

“Declan strolled out of the living room, a look of determination on his face. He wanted to punch his brother in the mouth for what he’d said, and had to breathe deeply to harness his bubbling anger. Sure enough, when he turned to the top of the stairs, Oliver sat half-way down, looking a little queasy. Declan parked his arse on the top step and looked down at his baby brother.

“Ye’ve only been sharing fer a few weeks… he’s a fast worker, that one,” Oliver said with a sarcastic sneer.

“DON’T” Declan said roughly, barely keeping the anger in check. He was so very disappointed with his brother. “What the fuck is yer problem? What does it matter who I love? What I get up te in the privacy of my own home, with my body is, frankly, none a yer damn business.” He paused to take a couple of calming breaths and simmered with frustration at the look of disinterest on his brother’s face. 

“This is important te me. Sam and I are a couple, and we wanted to share our happiness with you and Belle, just as you shared yours wi’ us.” Declan glared at Ollie who now wouldn’t even look him in the eye. The silence was palpable, and the more Declan looked at his brother, the more he began to pity him. After several minutes Oliver couldn’t hold his pinched, scowling expression any more.

“It wasnea supposed te be like this,” He burst out suddenly, sounding like a whiny brat. “You were supposed te meet a nice lassie, and we’d have son’s and take them te football, and hiking an’ fishing. Normal stuff, ye know”

Declan winced at the outburst. Normal stuff… bollox te that! 

“Oliver, that’s not me. That was never me. And as fer meetin’ a lassie, I’ve tried, a lot. I tried for so many years te be like the other lads, but I hated the man I became. I was goin’ through the motions, and it made me so fuckin’ unhappy.” Declan ran his hands over his bearded face and into his hair. Oliver was silent and taciturn. Declan decided to try another strategy.

“When you wake up in the morning wi’ Belle sleeping beside ye. How’d ye feel?”

Oliver’s glance darted to meet Declan’s. “Why?”

“Just say, fer fucks sake” God, my brother is stubborn bollox.

“I guess I feel… peaceful, contented, I suppose. She looks beautiful, like a fairy princess, or sum’ thin’,” He admitted candidly.

“And you know ye love her, fer certain?”

“Aye, from the moment I laid eyes on her at that Aikens corporate party”

“Well, since when do straight people have first dibs on happiness? Eh?” Declan challenged. “I’m attracted te women, and I’m attracted te men, but I have never woken up beside anyone feelin’ anything, but discomfort, like I was in the… wrong place. I felt sick, I felt like a liar. Every. Time. And it ate away at me. It’s no’ fair te me, and it’s no’ fair te the women I was foolin,’” Declan took a breath to organize his thoughts.

“But Sam… Sam is different. Jesus, if I could only put into words how he makes me feel” Declan felt the tears crowd his eyes. Talking about his feelings had always been difficult. He’d been the stereotypical emotional cripple before Sam, but this time words flowed unbidden. 

“I know who I am when I’m wi’ him. When I wake up in his arms, I’m so at peace I don’t wantae get out of bed. He makes me laugh until I cry. He always cares for me, no matter that I’m a maudlin, moody control freak. I look at him, and fer the first time in my life, I’m home.” Declan paused to catch a breath “If you truly think our love is wrong… well… tough shite. This is my life, and he is who I choose to live it wi’. If ye cannae be happy fer us, I just feel sorry fer ye.” The words felt clumsy and poorly constructed, but he needed to say them, and he hoped his brother would hear and accept them.

Sam and Annabelle stood in the open doorway, listening to their partners talk. Belle’s hand was absently rubbing her brother’s back for comfort as Declan explained how he felt for Sam. “I’m so happy for you” She said “I can’t believe we’ve hooked brothers” She drew Sam into a hug and when they parted Declan was standing at the door.

“Can I have a go?” he asked with a wry smirk on his face. Sam gripped the front of Declan’s shirt and pulled him into an embrace. The downstairs door slammed.”

Sale Alert!!


Sale Link ARe



Inspiration strikes at the strangest of times. 

Born in Germany, Isobel Starling spent most of her twenty-year professional career making art. She relocated to the UK and,faced with the dreaded artist’s creative block, Isobel started to write and found she loved it more than making art. 

Isobel’s first novel “Schonling” was a best seller in the GLBT-Bisexual genre on the ‘All Romance ebooks’ site. 
She has just completed her sixth book, and signed French translation rights for novella “As You Wish”. 

She adores the M/M genre and enjoys writing about wounded souls and the complexities of personal relationships. 
Despite not having found proof yet, Isobel believes in love at first sight and endeavours to give her men a thrilling journey and a satisfying ending!



March 28, 2016

Pre-order Now!! Between the Lies, Club Syn #1 by Draven St. James


Professor Graham Darrius leads a double life, everyday he enriches the lives of students, but at night he struts the stage as Ebony Powers at Club Syn. The two personas cannot mix, which is an easy rule to follow until a sexy man from Iowa stumbles through the door. 

Spencer Neil, has never stepped foot into a gay bar and holy shit did he get more than he’s ever imagined. What did he know about drag queens, go-go boys and heated exchanges in dark corners? The world he lives in is academic and predictable. At least until he meets Graham, and sees that sometimes all is not what it seems.

Beneath the shock of discovery, misunderstandings, silk stockings, and wicked instruction Graham finds himself falling for Spencer and Spencer finds he’s getting a whole different kind of education.





Spencer’s head dropped forward. God, his cock throbbed at the feel of Ebony’s body so near. The spicy scent of Ebony’s perfume filtered through his aroused brain. He couldn’t get his muscles to cooperate and turn to face his temptation.

“You’re giving off some mixed signals with your silence, hon.”

The touch of fingers along his back had him tensing with need but chained by confusion. He bit his lip to hold in whatever whimpered plea might have escaped. He’d spent years suppressing his sexual nature, so the tendency toward silence was automatic by now. It was far more difficult to make himself let out noise of any kind, much less anything intelligible.

“I may be a lot of things, but I don’t seduce unwilling men.” Ebony’s soft caress left his body, and Spencer swayed toward the touch.

“Stay,” Spencer whispered before he could rethink the word, but he knew he meant it. Whatever Ebony had to offer him, his body sure as hell wanted…needed.

The warmth of Ebony’s body caged him in the small space, like a furnace. The click of the lock being set into place had his heart speeding. What am I doing?

“And what would you have me do?” Ebony murmured, pressing close enough Spencer could feel the definite outline of a hard-on against his ass. “With you all alone in here?”

Spencer wished he’d had time to read a book on bathroom hookups, or maybe watched more porn. “I have no idea.”


I’m a born and raised Oregonian. I’ve traveled extensively in search of mischief and mayhem to fill my books. My ventures have been quite successful in inspiring a wealth of stories both sexy and humorous. It gives me a great excuse to do some crazy stuff in the name of research. Of course at the end of the day, coffee within reach, laptop at the ready is where I find my peace.


March 16, 2016

Excerpt Reveal! Ride Hard, Raven Riders MC #1 by Laura Kaye


A shy and distrustful woman running from a controlling ex-fiance seeks shelter with an outlaw motorcycle club with a tradition of protecting those who can't defend themselves, and falls under the watchful eye of the club's mysterious and intense leader who's intent on discovering all her secrets

Brotherhood. Club. Family.

They live and ride by their own rules.

These are the Raven Riders . . .

Raven Riders Motorcycle Club President Dare Kenyon rides hard and values loyalty above all else. He’ll do anything to protect the brotherhood of bikers—the only family he’s got—as well as those who can’t defend themselves. So when mistrustful Haven Randall lands on the club’s doorstep scared that she’s being hunted, Dare takes her in, swears to keep her safe, and pushes to learn the secrets overshadowing her pretty smile.

Haven fled from years of abuse at the hands of her criminal father and is suspicious of any man’s promises, including those of the darkly sexy and overwhelmingly intense Ravens’ leader. But as the powerful attraction between them flares to life, Dare pushes her boundaries and tempts her to want things she never thought she could.

The past never dies without a fight, but Dare Kenyon’s never backed down before . . .




So much better out here,” Haven said, the night air cool against the tingling warmth of her skin. Although she was pretty sure that not all of the heat burning through her insides was from the alcohol—her unusual flirtatiousness and closeness to Dare over the past half hour had made her desperate with a heat that had nothing to do with her drinking game.

She walked to the railing and leaned against it, chuckling a little at herself for needing the support it offered. She felt so damn free, and it was a heady, exhilarating thing.

“What’s funny?” Dare asked, settling a hip against the railing right beside her. Arms crossed, jaw ticking with tension, dark eyes blazing, he was staring at her like he wanted to reprimand her or devour her. Oddly, neither alarmed her the way she would’ve expected it to.

Haven shook her head, leaning it back and letting her gaze float over the night sky. Blurry points of light swam in the moonlit heavens. It was beautiful and peaceful despite the pounding bass beat of music thumping from inside the clubhouse. “Not funny, just good. Happy, you know? Being able to do something a little . . . scary, but knowing I’d be safe doing it.” When Dare’s gaze narrowed, she shrugged. “I don’t know.”

A long moment passed before Dare finally spoke. “You are safe here, Haven. Never doubt it.”

Peering up at him, she nodded, all kinds of words sitting on the tip of her tongue, challenging her to let them fly. “It’s weird feeling safe—or at least safer—after a lifetime of not. It makes me want to try things I could never let myself try before. It makes me . . .” She shook her head and dipped her chin.

Dare stepped closer, his thighs coming up against her hip. He lifted her chin and made her look at him. The contact combined with the command in the gesture lanced white-hot desire through her veins. “Makes you what?”

“Want to feel alive,” she whispered, her heart suddenly racing in her chest.

Dare’s jaw ticked again as his gaze swept over her face. She didn’t think she was imagining the raw emotion pouring off of him and wrapping around her, but she wasn’t sure if she was reading that emotion right or projecting her own desire onto him.

“Do you feel alive, Dare?” she asked, the alcohol flowing through her and the night spinning around her like she was walking through a dream.

“Jesus,” he bit out.

The rough desperation in his voice made her wet between her legs. “Just once,” she whispered, not sure what she was asking him for.

But he seemed to know. Because his hand was suddenly tangled in her hair and his mouth was suddenly on hers, claiming, probing, tasting. Haven moaned and parted her lips, inviting him deeper.

Dare jerked back from her, his fingers rubbing roughly over his lips. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

On instinct, Haven’s body pursued his, pinning his back to the railing. “Please don’t stop,” she said as her hands gripped his shoulders. She had the strongest urge to climb him, to wrap her legs around him, to grind against the hard bulge pressing electrically against her belly.

“Please,” she whispered, tilting her mouth toward his. “I liked it.”

Dare’s hand cupped the back of her head. “You’re killing me.”

“Dare,” she said, her body restless against his.

In a move that sent the world spinning, he flipped them around so that she was the one pinned against the railing. He pushed his legs between hers and leaned down over her, forcing her to arch her back, to yield, to open to him.“Tell me what you want from me. Say the words,” he said, his eyes absolutely on fire.

Her heart was a runaway train in her chest, frantic and picking up speed. The thought of giving voice to her desires was terrifying and thrilling and dizzying all at once.

“I want your mouth,” she said. The words sounded odder out loud than they had in her head, but they were more accurate than asking him to kiss her—because her mouth wasn’t the only place she wanted his.

“Jesus,” he rasped again, his mouth coming down on hers once more.

The whimper she released was part relief, part anticipation. It had been so long since she’d kissed someone that she felt a little uncertain, but Dare’s intensity barely allowed her the capacity to worry about it. He was like a dark storm bearing down on her, relentless, magnetic, all-consuming.

Rough callouses from his hands scratched against her cheeks as he guided her. Hard breaths spilled over her lips, and the wet slide of his tongue tasted like whiskey and desire and man. Her hands found the soft length of his hair, and her breasts pushed against the hard plane of his chest.

Then her lips were freed as his mouth slid over her skin—exploring her cheek, her jaw, her ear, her neck. He hiked her up to sit on the wide railing, the move surprising a gasp out of her, especially as he crowded the space between her legs, pushing himself closer, bringing his erection against the place between her legs craving friction, hardness, so much more of him. Maybe even all of him.

One strong arm wrapped around her back and held her steady, while the other hand stroked her hair, her face, her breast. The soft groans and breathy grunts spilling out of him were delicious and thrilling, and bolstered her confidence that she wasn’t the only one losing herself in this moment, in these touches. She almost couldn’t believe this was happening, and part of her was certain she must be dreaming. Because Haven Randall didn’t have beautiful things in her life. At least, never before.




Laura is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over twenty books in contemporary and paranormal romance and romantic suspense, including the Hard Ink and upcoming Raven Riders series. Growing up, Laura’s large extended family believed in the supernatural, and family lore involving angels, ghosts, and evil-eye curses cemented in Laura a life-long fascination with storytelling and all things paranormal. She lives in Maryland with her husband, two daughters, and cute-but-bad dog, and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day.


March 4, 2016

Cover Reveal! Excerpt & Giveaway: House Hunt, The Power of Zero #3 by Jackie Keswick


Jack Horwood hates owing favors. But when a simple day out to treat Gareth to the best oysters in England leads to a discovery of drugs and counterfeit money—things that neither Jack nor Gareth have the jurisdiction to handle—he has to call in help. Help that doesn’t come cheap, and that forces him to do something he promised himself he’d never do again—walk away from Gareth and the family he’s starting to make for himself.

Three months undercover is a long time. After missing Gareth’s birthday, Jack is determined not to miss their first anniversary. But coming home and being home are two very different things. So when he is asked to assist with a corporate espionage investigation, Jack can’t say no, despite knowing it will impact his already straining relationship. Except, of course, he’s walking into a trap….



A deep, throaty rumble broke the quiet of the morning and Gareth frowned. It didn’t sound like Jack’s beloved Gixxer, and anyway, he had been told they were not riding to… wherever it was they were going. The sound neared and settled outside his house, and when Gareth opened the front door and walked to the end of the drive, he came face-to-face with Jack Horwood—in a way he’d never seen or imagined him before.

He was used to Jack in skintight jeans and with a screwdriver between his teeth, bent over desks, or crawling into spaces rodents would have found restrictive. He was used to Jack in leather, astride his bike, and Jack in sleeveless tops and jogging bottoms moving through kata with grace and precision. He was even used to Jack the tease, meshing leather, music, and suggestive moves until Gareth thought his skin would catch on fire. Jack appealed to him whatever incarnation he chose, and this time around he had surpassed himself.

Long, low-slung, and roofless, with sexy, graceful curves, the deep green two-seater sparkled in the early morning sunlight. Jack sat snugly ensconced in magnolia leather, a dark green fleece top and matching ball cap complementing the color of the car. Fingerless driving gloves of soft black leather and aviator sunglasses added to his rakish look. He grinned from ear to ear, revving the engine, playing with the throaty sound.

“Come on, Flynn, the morning’s wasting.”

“What the fuck is that?”

“Transport. Get your gear and get in before I wake the neighborhood,” Jack sniped at Gareth’s question. “This isn’t a sound you can ignore for long.”

Gareth had to agree. The deep bass notes of the car’s engine rippled down the street and back again. He quickly ducked inside and reached for wallet, phone, and keys before he grabbed a jacket from the rack and sunglasses and a ball cap from a drawer. Moments later he stood beside the car’s passenger door and frowned at the lack of a visible door handle. Surely Jack wasn’t expecting him to vault over the door?

Jack’s laugh, carefree and enticing, bubbled up over the engine’s rumble, and without Gareth being able to see what he did, the passenger door popped open, ready for Gareth to climb in.

The seat was a surprisingly long way down. And once he sat, all he could see were acres of creamy hide and gleaming walnut trim, with a tiny slice of glittering green bonnet stretching out in front of him.

“Where did you get this monster?” he asked as he pulled the seat belt across his chest and Jack peeled away from the curb with a deep V-8 growl that was sure to rattle windowpanes along the quiet cul-de-sac.“It’s mine. Well, half of it is.”



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Jackie Keswick was born behind the Iron Curtain with itchy feet, a bent for rocks and a recurrent dream of stepping off a bus in the middle of nowhere to go home. She’s worked in a hospital and as the only girl with 52 men on an oil rig, spent a winter in Moscow and a summer in Iceland and finally settled in the country of her dreams with her dream team: a husband, a cat, a tandem, a hammer and a laptop. Jackie loves stories about unexpected reunions and second chances, and men who don’t follow the rules when those rules are stupid. She has a thing for green eyes and tight cyclist’s butts and is a great believer in making up soundtracks for everything, including her characters and the cat. And she still hasn’t found the place where the bus stops. 



February 25, 2016

Cover Reveal & Giveaway! Kissing Alex, Bobyguards Inc. #6 by R.J. Scott



Martial arts expert Lewis is the kind of bodyguard who slips under most people’s radar. Quiet, reserved, but constantly on alert, he’ll do his job, keep his charges safe, then relax by reading Shakespeare in his spare time. When he’s given a case involving a spoiled celebrity singer, Lewis isn’t all that impressed. The job is nothing but babysitting a pretty boy, and he’s used to diplomatic postings with depth and challenge. What could he possibly have in common with the man he’s being forced to look after? Alex became the envy of many when he and his fellow bandmates won second place in a huge TV talent show. He has more money than he knows what to do with, no life goals, an ex-boyfriend selling a sex tape and now, someone who wants him dead, or at the very least maimed. Can Lewis keep Alex safe, even when things usually in his control go to hell? Is running to a remote Scottish island the only way for them to stay alive?




RJ Scott has been writing since age six when she was made to stay in at lunchtime for an infraction involving cookies and was told to write a story. Two sides of A4 about a trapped princess later, a lover of writing was born. She reads anything from thrillers to sci-fi to horror; however, her first real love will always be the world of romance. From billionaires, bodyguards and cowboys to SEALs, throwaways and veterinarians, she writes passionate stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and more than a hint of happily ever after.