Showing posts with label My Reviews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label My Reviews. Show all posts

January 25, 2016

In The Spotlight! Review & Guest Post: Goldenfire, Darkhaven #2 by A.F.E. Smith



In Darkhaven, peace doesn’t last long.

Ayla Nightshade has ruled Darkhaven for three years since the tragedy that tore her family apart. She has left her father’s cruel legacy behind and become a leader her people can believe in – or so she hopes.

Tomas Caraway is no longer a disgraced drunk; he’s Captain of the Helm and the partner of the most powerful woman in Darkhaven. He will do everything to protect Ayla and their adopted son against all possible threats.

But a discovery has been made that could have profound consequences for the Nightshade family. There is a weapon so deadly, it can kill even the powerful creatures they turn into. And now, that weapon has fallen into the wrong hands.

An assassin is coming for Ayla, and will stop at nothing to see her dead.



Love and fantasy

When Darkhaven came out, I wrote a bit about fantasy and crime and why I think the two genres blend well together. So now, with the release of Goldenfire, it's romance's turn. What is it about love and fantasy that makes them complementary to each other?

It's probably worth saying, first, that not everyone thinks romance has a place in fantasy. I've come across several readers who would rather their fantasy focused 100 percent on people hacking each other to death with swords and 0 percent on people falling in love. Each to their own. But in my personal opinion, romantic relationships are so intrinsic to humanity that to omit them is to fail to capture the very realism those fans of blood and gore are looking for.

Obviously, this isn't to say that every character should fall in love. If the characters in a book are a microcosm of the human race then some will be interested in romance and some not. Some in sex and some not. But leaving love out of the mix entirely seems just as extreme a position to take as putting the entire focus of the novel on it.

I don't write fantasy romance; the plots of my books aren't based around two people forming a relationship. Yet despite that, my characters do tend to fall in love – often despite themselves. And this is where I think love and fantasy blend well together, and for much the same reason as murder and fantasy: they are all about heightened emotions. Fantasy throws people into life-or-death situations. Often, literally or otherwise, the characters in a fantasy novel are in a permanent state of war – whether on a worldwide scale or a personal one. And it's a well documented fact that in wartime, people fall in love more quickly. When you think your life may end tomorrow, you fling yourself into it with far less caution.

Not only that, but I always say that fantasy is the perfect vehicle for exploring both the best and the worst that we as humans are capable of. And love in all its incarnations falls into both categories. Love can lead us to act with utter selflessness. It can cause us to perform great, earth-shattering feats, albeit for the most personal of reasons. Yet, twisted and distorted, it can also become obsession and jealous rage.

If one thing is certain, it’s that people are a bundle of contradictions. We’re capable of being concerned at one and the same time with very important, weighty matters – regaining a throne, locating a magical artefact, saving the world – and our own fragile hearts. Not only that, but the balance probably shifts far more towards the personal and less towards the truly altruistic than we’d like to admit. Love is a very powerful motivator. And not just romantic love, either: our feelings for our partners, siblings, children, friends have a huge effect on what we say and do.

Perhaps the outcomes of those important, weighty matters depend more on our fragile hearts than we care to think.


Darkhaven, 3 years later

Ayla Nightshade has been through so much and fought so many battles to take her right place as a ruler of Darkhaven.

She’s revered and feared while she’s trying to keep together a kingdom that was never meant to be hers.

The enemies are willing to do anything to remove her permanently and, now, they seem to have found the perfect weapon.

No one can be trusted and, until the hired assassin is found, Ayla is confined to her castle where she’s safer than anywhere else. 

But, the mysteries haven’t all been solved and there are still secrets that will resurface, bringing more danger to an already dire situation.

Help will come from an unlikely ally who no one expected to step in and offer support.

This ranks among my favorite fantasy recently published series.

AFE Smith takes the readers on a journey in a world of fantasy where nothing is really what it seems, there’s a new mystery at every corner and the plot has enough twists and turns to keep you on the edge from beginning to end. 

The writing style is really good making the story fast-paced and easy to follow.

I highly recommend Darkhaven to everyone who’s looking for a good Fantasy. 

Just keep in mind that you have to start with volume one or it won’t make much sense and you won’t be able to enjoy the novels as you should. 

Happy Reading!!



A.F.E. Smith is an editor of academic texts by day and a fantasy writer by night. So far, she hasn’t mixed up the two. She lives with her husband and their two young children in a house that someone built to be as creaky as possible – getting to bed without waking the baby is like crossing a nightingale floor. Though she doesn’t have much spare time, she makes space for reading, mainly by not getting enough sleep (she’s powered by chocolate). Her physical bookshelves were stacked two deep long ago, so now she’s busy filling up her e-reader.

What A.F.E. stands for is a closely guarded secret, but you might get it out of her if you offer her enough snacks.



January 18, 2016

Excerpt & Review! If Only In My Dreams by Keira Andrews


To be home for Christmas, they must bridge the distance between them.

Charlie Yates is desperate. It’s almost Christmas and his flight home from college has been delayed. For days. Charlie promised his little sister Ava he’d be home for her first holiday season since going into remission from leukemia. Now he’s stuck on the opposite coast and someone else grabbed the last rental car. Someone he hasn’t even spoken to in four years. Someone who broke his heart.

Gavin Bloomberg’s childhood friendship with Charlie ended overnight after a day of stolen kisses. With years of resentment between them, they don’t want to be in the same room together, let alone a car. But for Ava’s sake, Gavin agrees to share the rental and drive across the country together.

As they face unexpected bumps along the road, can Charlie and Gavin pave the way to a future together?


***
I wasn’t sure if it was the crick in my neck or the drool dripping down my chin that woke me. Inhaling sharply, I jolted up straight. It was dark, and I blinked at the red glow of taillights. Beside me, Gavin turned down the radio, which had been playing a bad cover of “Santa Baby.” I rubbed my eyes. “Where are we?”

“We passed Wells, Nevada, a little while back.”

The green display on the dashboard said it was just after eleven p.m. I pulled out my phone and read a text from Mom.

How’s it going? You and Gavin be careful on those roads. Don’t drive too fast. Christmas will be whenever you get here. Xxxxx

I tamped down the swell of emotion. Most people did “xoxo,” but when I was little my mom always kissed my forehead, chin, both cheeks, and then the tip of my nose before I went to sleep. She did it with Ava too. I guess it’s our family’s thing, although my dad was always big on the bear hugs. He and Mom are kind of perfect that way. Yin and yang, Aunt Wendy says.

“Everything okay?”

I glanced at Gavin, who looked over with a concerned furrow between his brows. “Um, yeah.”

I went back to my phone and opened my map. Why was Gavin being…nice? He hadn’t deigned to pay me the slightest bit of attention in years—aside from that day in the pizza place, the thought of which sent a prickly rush of anger and shame through me. But earlier when he’d asked about Ava, he’d seemed sincere.

I shifted in my seat, uncrossing my legs. When I’d woken up that morning from my uneasy pre-airport sleep, I’d expected to be back home in Norwalk by now. But here I was in a car in Buttfuck, Nevada—with Gavin Bloomberg. It was so goddamned weird.

And as I focused on the map, I realized I was going to be in a car with Gavin for a long-ass time. “We’re, like, six hours behind schedule. At least.”

“Yeah, it sucks. It really took forever getting out of the Bay Area.” He yawned widely.

With a stab of guilt, I realized he’d been driving since that morning. “I can drive now. Sorry, I didn’t mean to pass out for so long.”

“It’s okay. Should probably get more gas too. At the next station we can switch. There’s a town coming up.”

“Cool.” I fiddled with the laces on my sneaker. This part of the interstate had two lanes in each direction, and white headlights passed by on the other side of a grassy median. The land looked flat as a pancake, but it was too dark to see much. “You ever driven across the country before?”

“Nope. You?”

“No.”

In the ensuing silence, broken only by that incredibly annoying Paul McCartney Christmas song on the radio, I stared out the window, trying to see beyond the flat scrub that disappeared into inky blackness. I racked my brain for something to say. That first summer, Gavin and I would talk for hours and hours about nothing. Comics and movies, and just…stuff. Now we could barely handle the kind of small talk you’d make in a taxi or on a plane.

“How’s Tim?”

Whoa. I swiveled my head to gape at him. “What?”

“That’s his name, isn’t it? That guy you were seeing from Jefferson High?” Gavin adjusted one of the heating vents, casual as anything.

“Yeah. That’s his name. I didn’t…how did you know?”

He laughed uneasily. “What, you thought it was a secret or something? Everyone knew. It wasn’t a big deal. It’s not like you hid it.”

“No one mentioned it to me.” I wrapped one of my laces around my index finger, cutting off the circulation. It wasn’t that I cared about people knowing I was gay—he was right, I hadn’t hidden it. But the idea of Gavin actually talking about me and Tim (probably with Candace) torpedoed bile up my esophagus.

“Seemed like you never really talked to anyone at school the last couple years. You always had your earbuds in, and outside class you didn’t join in anything.”

“I was a little busy with my dying sister.” I tugged the lace harder.

“Oh, I know. I’m not saying…you just seemed…”

“What?”

“Angry.” He shrugged. “You intimidated people.”

I released the lace and let the blood back into my fingertip. “So? I don’t care what people think.”

“I know. I always admired that about you. Most guys I knew in junior high wouldn’t have spent so much time playing with their little sister. You never worried about being ‘cool’ or whatever.”

The flush of pleasure that warmed me was beyond stupid and annoying. “Well, Tim was a cool guy, but we weren’t serious. He’s been at Penn State since last year. Having a good time from what I see on Facebook. Bagging a lot of hot guys.”

“Oh yeah? Cool.” Gavin cleared his throat. “What about you?”

How was this real life? Sure, just talking about banging guys with Gavin. NBD. “Sure, college has been fun. Plenty of guys to hook up with at USF. For a Jesuit school, the party scene is pretty wild.” I’d fooled around with a few students, but that was it. Sex was fun, but I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend.

“I was wondering about that. Not the party scene, but the religious thing. I didn’t think you were a big believer?”

I laughed. “Oh, I’m not. But they take heathens too. I wrote an essay about how cancer kills faith, and they gave me a full ride. It would have been an in-state school for me if they hadn’t. I guess they figure they can save my soul. But I haven’t actually met any Bible thumpers. It’s been chill.”

“That’s good. What’s your major going to be?”

“No idea. I’m taking a bunch of stuff this year, and we’ll see if anything sticks. What about you?”

“Engineering.”

“Nice.” I should have known he’d be doing something super smart. His dad was a civil engineer, and I still wasn’t really sure what he actually did, but it was probably hard.

“How are your parents?” he asked.

“Good. Better now. It’s been hard with Ava and everything.”

“Yeah, I bet. Is your dad still at the same firm?”

I smiled briefly. “He just made partner, actually. It was a pretty big deal.”

“Cool!” Gavin’s face lit up, a grin pushing the dimples into his cheeks and making my stomach flip-flop like a fish on the bottom of a boat. Do not go there, Charlie. Get a grip. “Is your mom going back to work now?”

“Not sure. I think she’s gotten her fill of hospitals, you know? But she might do some private nursing or something. We’ll see.” I cleared my throat and stared out the windshield at the red lights. “How are your folks?”

The bright-eyed remnants of his grin vanished, and Gavin sped up to change lanes and pass the car in front of us. “They’re fine. Oh, there’s the exit for that town.” He accelerated more to get back in the right lane.

Huh. As we exited the interstate and pulled into a gas station, I rolled it around in my mind. Gavin and his parents had been tight, but maybe something had changed? Sure, Hanukkah might not be a super important high holy day or whatever, but it was totally weird that they’d spend the holidays without him. But maybe they’d wanted him to come and he’d elected to be with Candace instead.

Ugh. She of the perky tits and golden hair and even, gleaming white teeth. Just thinking about her made me clench my fists.

“Candace is making the new guy feel right at home!” Pete Stiffler crowed with a braying laugh.

I yanked open the car door and stalked into the gas station, shivering in the surprisingly cold night. Bells jingled merrily, and it looked like Santa’s workshop had barfed all over the interior of the convenience store, with garlands and cheap ornaments strung over the shelves and lights along the tops of the fridges. The middle-aged guy behind the counter wore reindeer horns.

I nodded to him as I grabbed a Red Bull and a bunch of snacks, wondering what the Bloombergs thought of Miss Candace Allen. She’d been near the top of our class and was going to Columbia, because of course she had beauty and brains. It was nauseating.

As I surveyed the chip aisle, wondering if Gavin still loved sour cream and onion, I sighed. I knew I wasn’t being fair. How could I blame Candace for seeing him at that stupid party and grabbing him? It wasn’t her fault he wanted her back. Of course he did—she was a straight guy’s perfect cheerleader fantasy.

Wasn’t her fault he didn’t want me.

Through the window, I could see him pumping the gas, watching the numbers climb. He’d been beautiful the first day I saw him, and he’d grown into a gorgeous man. Tall and lean and long legged, and…why the hell was I thinking about this? So what if he was good looking? I’d thought we were friends, but I’d been nothing to him. Some little experiment he’d tossed aside for the hetero delights of Candace Allen. I hadn’t even been worth talking to after school started.

Jerking away from the window, I grabbed a bag of Doritos. After I paid the cashier, I climbed behind the wheel of the Jetta. When Gavin got in the passenger seat, he tucked away the gas receipt in the glove box.

He asked, “I guess we’ll just take turns filling up? And at the end we’ll see if one of us paid more.”

“Sure,” I gritted out as I started the engine. I could see him watching me from the corner of my eye as I peeled out of the station.

“What? Do you not want to do the gas that way?”

“The gas is fine. And obviously I owe you for half the car too. I’ll pay you when we get home.”

“I know you will. I’m not…okay. Fine.” He flipped on the radio and left it on a station playing my mom’s favorite carol.

“They looked up and saw a star.
Shining in the east beyond them far.
And to the earth it gave great light
And so it continued both day and night.”

My breath stuttered as I remembered last Christmas and driving my mom home from the hospital after another of Ava’s endless treatments. I couldn’t sing for shit, but as we’d passed all the twinkling lights and snowmen, I’d warbled the verses I could remember.

It had only made my mom cry harder, but then she’d gripped my hand and said I was right—we couldn’t give up hope. I’d only sung it to make her feel better because she liked it, but I guess it had been the right thing to do.

The star shining in the east now was the town of West Wendover. We drove into Utah over two faded white lines painted on the road, under the watchful eye of a giant neon cowboy and the glittering lure of casinos. A sign informed us we were now in mountain time, which made me feel like we’d just fallen another hour behind schedule.

Past the undaunted dazzle of buffets, country cover bands, slot machines, and Arby’s, rocky hills rose. Soon we were cloaked in darkness again, with only a few fellow travelers on the road as midnight ticked by. As we went, the hills disappeared and the flat ground became strangely bright. “Jesus. Is it snowing?”

Gavin leaned forward in his seat, peering intently. “I don’t think so, but I guess it snowed earlier? It’s all white. Oh, wait—look at the sign.”

Bonneville Salt Flats Recreation Area

I exhaled. Salt I could handle. We’d have enough snow to deal with as we went farther east. “Oh, duh. Wow. That’s a lot of salt.”

We passed the miles and miles of salt flats, the carols playing softly, people singing about joy to the world, decking the halls, and silent nights. After a while, I realized Gavin was asleep. His lips were parted, and his chest rose and fell evenly. He’d taken off his leather jacket and folded it against the window as a pillow.

His thick eyebrows had been pretty messy when we first met, but he’d started plucking in high school. The urge to reach over and run my finger over his left brow was ridiculous, and I ripped my gaze back to the road.

Unfortunately, the highway was a flat line in danger of hypnotizing me, so I let myself look again. Gavin wore a red Henley with three open buttons at the neck. Dark hair poked out from the collar, and I wondered how thick it was over his chest.

Turning my head, I forced in a long, deep breath and held it for a few seconds before exhaling. I wondered if his lips would still feel surprisingly soft, and if—

I took another breath and held it for longer this time as I clutched the wheel. What ifs would only make this trip even more torturous. I needed to concentrate on getting home, and then Gavin and I would go back to being strangers again. All that mattered was seeing Ava and my family.

All that matters is making it home so she won’t get sick again.

I cursed myself for the nagging worry over that fucked-up dream. But no matter how often I reminded myself it wasn’t real, it was like I could feel the hospital tiles under my feet and the helpless grief that had doubled me over as the doctor shook his head.

Shivering, I turned the heat up a notch, glancing at Gavin as he shifted and licked his lips before settling again.

Fuck, I didn’t want to think about him either, but the road was flat and straight, and my traitorous mind wandered back to that Labor Day weekend before the first day of ninth grade…

***

What do you do when, after many years, you come face to face with the person who broke your heart into tiny, tiny pieces and yet you can’t stop caring about?

Charlie and Gavin haven’t parted in the best of ways and they sure never expected to suddenly bump into each other in a middle of a snow storm.

Years of resentment and hurt feelings can’t be put aside in a moment but old loyalties can’t be ignored either.

While the storm closes in, Charlie and Gavin will have to find a way to put aside whatever they think they might feel for each other and try to get home in time for the holidays.

This was a sweet story of two young men who struggle with overcoming fear and resentment in order to find their happily ever after.

The dual point of view was a nice touch because it’s easier to understand the characters and gives depth to the story.

Charlie’s love for his sister and his willingness to do anything to keep his promise to her was one of the things I loved most. 

There’s a great accent on family values, trust and loyalty all throughout the novel, which gives the story a sense of reality. 

If Only in my Dreams was my first Keira Andrews book and I was pleasantly surprised. 

I’ll go back for more of her novels for sure and I highly recommend you do the same. 

Happy Reading!




After writing for years yet never really finding the right inspiration, Keira discovered her voice in gay romance, which has become a passion. She writes contemporary, historical, paranormal, and fantasy fiction, and—although she loves delicious angst along the way—Keira firmly believes in happy endings. For as Oscar Wilde once said, “The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. That is what fiction means.” You can find out more about Keira and her books at her website, and on Facebook and Twitter. Subscribe to her monthly newsletter for news, giveaways and more.

January 13, 2016

Excerpt & Review! Torn and Frayed, A Gabriel Church Tale #2 by Rodd Clark



“Conscience isn’t something all people are born with...”

Gabriel Church is a portrait in contrast. It would be easy to get lost in his pale-blue eyes, ache with the need to feel the strength of his masculine frame. He appears to be nothing but animal and instinct. The only people who know the full depth of that truth are dead, murdered, or two thousand miles away. 

Gabe is a serial killer. For the first time in his life, he has more on his mind than his own survival. This time he is running from Seattle to protect the only person he thinks innocent in his laundry list of crime and murder: Christian Maxwell, his biographer and unexpected lover. Drawn to a place he never thought to return, Gabe finds new and different realities. Realities that insist he let go of his tragic past, those incredible perceptions of God, and his own divinity. He must open his eyes to what the love of a good man can do to heal a broken soul. 

But when the killer is confronted by his own willingness to love and sacrifice, he is forced to ultimately ask the question: Just how far will he go to save a life . . . when all he’s ever done is take them? 



What people are saying about Rubble and the Wreckage – Book 1 in the Gabriel Church Tales . . .

Can you trust a serial killer that has no remorse? That bathes in manipulation? I am not going to tell you if Christian trusts, believes, or falls for any of it but I will tell you it’s a drug for those who crave a dark twist in their daily reads. It’s hot between these two. It’s also suspenseful and nerve wracking. Venture outside your comfort zone for this book. 

Diverse Reader 

I don’t give away spoilers, but I will say that this book pulls no punches, makes no apologies, and basically kicks ass and takes names! Grab it if you want a mind-bending, sexy read that will leave you wanting book two . . .! 

Bike Book Reviews 

A psychological thriller, this book was a page-turner from beginning to end. I highly recommend Rubble and Wreckage. 

Joyfully Jay Reviews 

This is a wonderful book for the person who likes stories that offer in depth character studies of flawed people. Both men are very complicated and probably equally fragmented except on opposite sides of the law. Rubble and the Wreckage is a sizzling read. Nothing is what it seems; nor is it so simplistic as a killer grooming a writer to be a patsy for murder like a predictable TV movie. 

Love Bytes Reviews 

Rodd is an amazing narrator and manages to weave a thrilling and intriguing tale of sex, lust, love, mystery and danger. 

Bayou Book Reviews

***
Cars weaved dangerously onto onramps as everyone was frantically trying to make it to offices, day jobs, or the nearest shopping malls. Everyone was out to make a living, but for him life was different. In the burbs, Gabe made a living with a towel and a pair of shorts. Stopping in at motel pools, appearing like any other guest out for a swim. His true intention was spying for purses sitting open by the women tanning themselves on chaise lounges.

Gabriel wasn’t vain, but he knew what catnip a strong physique could be for a lonely female traveler, and he knew how to work the tourist trade even better than the brown-skinned boys from the beaches of Puerto Vallarta. But it was more than loose change he’d be begging for. Motel pools were ideal because husbands rarely swam with their families, but mothers knew the importance of getting screaming children out of tiny motel rooms and into pools. It meant they could sit in quiet solitude, possibly reading and tanning their alabaster skins as urchins on sugar highs splashed and frolicked at their feet. 

It was the perfect savanna for hunting when you had a build like Gabriel’s. And if his target was a lone single woman, he often used his skills to get her to draw him to her room for sweaty sex between the sheets. Purses and pocket books were easy, and when they weren’t available, there were pool games for money and poker with betting. He considered his petty theft something few would miss, and his efforts enabled him to stay off the grid and under anyone’s radar. He’d never been arrested or ticketed for any of his minor crimes for cash because he was that good. A tempting smile went a long way for him, and he could be charming and self-effacing whenever he needed. Christian had chuckled and called him whore when he’d explained how he maintained his existence back in Washington. Remembering that incident brought a faint grin to his face, and he found pleasure that the writer hadn’t judged him harshly, as others might’ve. 

“You do what you have to if you want to survive, little buddy.” Church had offered over Christian’s raucous laughter. It had been one of the first times they’d discussed his manner of survival or money during one of their many frequent interviews in the Mayflower. He had to admit they’d been a little drunk by then after Maxwell had purchased a bottle of premium bourbon and carried it back to their suite as entertainment and distraction. They were inebriated more often than he cared to admit, but it was a necessary evil when Christian was asking him to reveal his deepest, darkest secrets. The only way he could get to the impervious truth was by laced libation and longing looks of sympathy and interest. One of Gabe’s fondest memories came from them sitting on the sofa in the spacious suite at the Mayflower in their underwear, close enough that their knees were touching. They were already high on bourbon and colas, and they laughed and joked well into the night. It was something Gabriel had never experienced before, as unfathomable as that might have sounded. 

*** 

Torn and Frayed- the perfect title for this novel because that is how you’ll feel when you’re done with it. 

This has turned out to be one very interesting series. 

Let’s do a little recap. 

Gabriel Church is a serial killer. 

He’s merciless, ruthless and highly intelligent. He never stays too long in one place and he doesn’t let anyone near. 

That, until he meets Christian Maxwell, the writer who wants to hear his story. 

But, surprisingly, Gabriel is not as cold as he appears. At least not when it comes to Chris. 

Soon, what should have been just an interview turns into a relationship that neither of them was prepared for. 

Now, Gabriel is on the run again, leaving behind his lover and the comfort he felt at his side. 

In Rubble and the Wreckage we saw Gabriel through Christian’s eyes and through the story Gabe himself is telling. 

It’s a different perspective in Torn and Frayed. There’s only Gabriel, alone and trying to stay under the radar while getting as far as possible from the man who made him feel so much, too much, and deviate from his strict rules. 

Now, his priorities have changed. 

It was interesting to see Gabriel the man and not just the serial killer. 

Don’t get me wrong, he’s still who he is but more … normal. 

His decisions revolve around what’s best not only for him but for a man who, for a short period of time, has given him peace. 

And I’m going to stop here because I don’t want to spoil the book for you. 

There’s so much going on and there are some new characters who join the game. 

Torn and Frayed was definitely better than Rubble and the Wreckage and it was a lot more easy to keep up with the story, but that might be due to the fact that there’s no dual POV. It’s mostly Gabriel.  

It hasn’t been easy rating this novel, either because it’s not just the usual love story. 

The complexity of this story makes it difficult to be objective. 

All you can do is just read and not try to decide if what’s happening it’s right or wrong. Don’t try to judge based on what you think it’s the right decision or the right course of action. It’ll never work. 

Happy Reading! 




Rodd lives in Dallas, TX at the moment but hails from the sticks of Oklahoma. Check out his web presence at RODDCLARK.COM. Interested in the M/M Mystery, Romance and Thriller genres but has a varied interest in many books. It has been written that his writing has a very dark and distinctive voice with a need for deep exploration and analysis. “Torn and Frayed” is the sequel to his popular romantic thriller, "Rubble and the Wreckage." The third chapter of the series should be released later in the year and give readers a chance to see how their wicked story is resolved.



December 18, 2015

Author Interview, Review & Giveaway! Haven's Creed by Parker Williams




An act of violence destroys his family and ends the life he knows. To escape his haunted past, he joins the military, where, as a sniper, he is trained to kill with precision and detachment. When a covert organization offers him a new purpose, he becomes Haven, an operative devoted to protecting the innocent when he can and avenging them when he cannot.

After ten years of battling the evil in the world, the life no longer holds the attraction or meaning it once had, and he’s ready to walk away. Then he meets Samuel, a young man forced from the age of twelve to work as a sex slave. If ever a man had a need for Haven, it is this one. 

Yet nothing about this growing relationship is one-sided. Sammy gives Haven a stability he’s never known, and Haven becomes the rock upon which Sammy knows he can depend. 

When Sammy reveals something about the enemy Haven has been hunting for months, Sammy fears it will destroy what they’ve built and he’ll lose his home in Haven’s heart.



Today I’m very grateful to be visiting Mikky’s World of Books! 

Tell us a little about yourself, your background, and your current book.

My name is Parker Williams (or Will Parkinson if you prefer). I live in Milwaukee, Wisconsin with my husband, our four dogs, and three cats.

Haven’s Creed is a huge departure from anything I’ve ever done in the past. Haven is not a nice man. He’s an assassin whose job it is to protect the innocent when he can, and avenge them when he can’t.

What is the nicest thing anyone has ever said about your writing?

The first time? That it didn’t suck!

Honestly, though…a man named Michael Thompson wrote to me to tell me how much Pitch, the story of Taylor and Jackson, meant to him. How it reminded him of his life. His letter was so poignant, it made me cry. (Though I will deny that part if anyone asks me.)

Are you a full-time or part-time writer? How does that impact your writing?

I’m a part-time writer. I also run Pride Promotions, a tour service that promotes other authors. I’d really like to be a full-time writer, and have about twenty stories in various stages of completion. Want an example? ☺

This is from a story called ‘Of Love and Corndogs’

Darwin sat at his usual table and scanned the restaurant, anxious to see Roy, his favorite server. He frowned when the young man who approached the table looked nothing like the raven haired beauty that Darwin had grown accustomed to seeing twice a week for the last six months. He tried to school his features, not wanting to hurt the feelings of the slender blond with the wide smile who drew near.

"Good evening, Mr. Kincade. My name is Richard and I'll be your server for this evening. Would you like to start with a drink?"

"Where's Roy?" Darwin growled. His cheeks heated when Richard stepped back, looking every bit the kicked puppy. Darwin winced. He knew better than to snap at people. He scratched his cheek before he glanced up. ”I’m sorry. It's been a long day. Please forgive me. I assume Roy isn't working tonight?"

"Roy quit a couple days ago,” came the hesitant answer.

Darwin's gut clenched. He'd been coming to Asiago simply to see Roy. The truth of the matter was the food was merely palatable. Seeing Roy had become the highlight of his week, and now he was gone. "Did he say where he was going?" Darwin knew a hint of whine escaped, but goddamn it, he'd been in lust with Roy.

"He and his wife moved to be closer to her parents."

Nausea rolled through Darwin. He hadn't even considered Roy might not have been gay. Such a fool he was.

"Would you like that drink?" Richard asked.

"Yes, please. A shot of Johnny Walker Blue, neat."

Richard gasped and then covered his mouth. "Sir, that costs--"

"I damn well know the cost. Bring me my drink."

Again, Darwin's anger had gotten the better of him. The stress of the day, coupled with his disappointment with Roy being gone had left him on shaky ground. Blue eyes shimmered in the dim lighting, and Darwin worried the young man might break into tears. "Again, please accept my apologies. I should probably go." He reached over and grabbed his briefcase, ready to stand up, when Richard held out a hand and graced Darwin with a genuine and disarming smile.

"No, please. Stay. Let me get you that drink, okay? I'll let you know the dinner special when I come back. My grandma always said any day can be made better with a good meal.”

Without waiting, Richard hurried off in the direction of the bar. Darwin fumed. Not only had he made a fool of himself tonight, but he'd also hurt the feelings of someone he didn't know. Though Richard would be right to refuse to service Darwin, he ran to get a drink. As much as he wanted to believe it the attentive attitude came down to getting a decent tip, Richard seemed to be too earnest for that. Darwin sighed and put his briefcase back on the leather seat. His mother would be so disappointed in him.

The crystal glass thunked against the table and startled Darwin when Richard set it down. The amber liquid rippled gently. Darwin picked it up and gazed into the glass. He'd thought about downing it in one go, relishing the burn that would inevitably follow, but he hated to lose control. He took a deep, steadying breath

"Richard--"

"Ricky."

"Excuse me?"

"Most people call me Ricky. You can, if you want."

Darwin smiled at him. "Ricky then. I'm very sorry. I'm out of sorts, and it's not fair to you that I'm being so...."

"Antagonistic?"

Darwin pulled back and looked at the young man, who was now giving him a cheeky grin. "Okay, we'll go with that."

"I'm sorry I'm not Roy. I'd only met him when I got hired here. He was a great waiter, and I doubt I can fill his shoes. If you prefer, I'll find you someone else."

Darwin grinned. This Ricky definitely hadn’t been at all like he expected. Roy had been standoffish, a little cold, but very professional. Ricky? A breath of fresh air. He had a style all his own. "No, I think you'll do just fine. Tell me about the dinner special."

"Tonight we have a truffle braised tenderloin served with whipped Dauphenaise potatoes and honey glazed carrots."

"And what did you think of it?"

"Excuse me?"

Darwin tapped his index finger on the table. “I assume you tried it, so what did you think?"

Ricky bit the corner of one lip, then glanced around, before he leaned forward and whispered, "Honestly? I thought it was pretentious. Give me a corndog any day."

Darwin burst out laughing, which drew unhappy stares from the tables nearby. It wasn't as if he cared. "What's a corndog?"

Ricky blinked a couple of times. "You don't know what a corndog is? Seriously?"

"Well.... no. I don't know that I've ever had one. Do you think they can make me one here?"

Ricky snorted. "Chef Michael thinks that corndogs aren't even real food. He claims he wouldn't feed them to his Pekinese. So, no, you definitely won't find them here."

Darwin glanced up at Ricky. A nice, easy smile. Loose limbed. He had none of the trappings of a Asiago waiter. "Then can you tell me where to find a good corndog?"

"The best ones in town are at the mini-putt course over on Klein."

"Mini-putt?"

Ricky cocked his head. “You're kidding, right? How do you not know these things?"

Darwin sat back and grinned. Ricky had no idea who he was, and he found it oddly refreshing. He leaned forward and put his chin on the palm of his hand. "I lead a sheltered life, apparently. So if I want a corndog, I need to go to the mini-putt place. Okay, I'll do that."

He stood up and began to move toward the door when the owner rushed to his table. She scowled at Ricky, which didn't set well with Darwin at all. "Mr. Kincaid, is something wrong?"

"No, everything is perfect. I like this young man," he said, waving a hand toward Ricky. "He's refreshing."

The condescending look Louisa gave Ricky told him she didn't agree. "If he's done anything to upset you—“

"Wait. Why would you think he upset me? If anything, I was the responsible party. Ricky did nothing wrong at all. He talked me into a nice drink, and that's all I needed for tonight.” He turned to Ricky. “I’ll stop at the bar to pay for the drink. Thank you for a most entertaining meal.”

He reached into his wallet and peeled off two one-hundred dollar bills, which he tossed on the table, then started for the door again. He turned and saw Louisa's body language. She was tense, her gaze fixed on Ricky, who bit the corner of his lip. Darwin found that didn’t set well with him at all. He called out, "I'm coming back Monday. Can you please reserve me a table and note that I want Ricky as my server?"

If she'd had a mouthful of water, she'd have spit it everywhere. "You want...him?"

"Yes. Is there a problem with that?"

She moved forward and put a hand on his back as she guided him to the door. Darwin forced himself to remain calm. He didn’t like being touched by people without his permission, and this woman had already gotten his dander up. "Well," she said slowly. "Ricky is on probation. He hasn't exactly been working out. He's slow, and has been argumentative with customers."

"Yet he was perfect with me. Perhaps it was the customers and not the server. Maybe you should consider that. I expect him to be here Monday. If he’s not…”

Darwin left the threat unvoiced. Louisa knew who he was and what he could do if he wanted. He left the woman standing there, huffing like a wild beast, as he stepped out of the restaurant into the cool Chicago night. He gazed wistfully back at the front of the restaurant while he called his driver. Roy was gone, but...Ricky seemed as though he'd be very interesting, too."

"That was fast, Dare."

Darwin grinned at his oldest friend. "They didn't have what I wanted for dinner tonight. The new waiter suggested something, and I find I really want to try it."

Henley's puzzled expression delighted Darwin. He'd been friends with Henley since they were kids, and he rarely frazzled the man. He wondered what the man would say when he told them where they were going. Henley opened the door to the limousine, then closed it after Darwin slid in. He returned to the driver's side and started the car.

"Okay, where to?"

"We're going to the mini-putt course on Klein for a corndog."

At that moment, Darwin wished he had his phone out to take a picture. He'd frame it and hang it in the house so everyone could see Henley looking at though his jaw had unhinged and was now resting atop his polished shoes.

Yes, Ricky could be an inspiration to me.

What interested you about the theme of this book?

Confession time: Haven’s Creed was written as a pressure release valve. I used to work with a woman who drove me insane. She was, without a doubt, one of the worst people I’d ever had the ‘pleasure’ of dealing with. She had always been great with the guests, but with the other staff? Awful. Rude. Condescending. And the biggest problem would be the fact she ran hot and cold. One minute she’d be cheery and happy, the next she would like rip your face off if she could.

I took to writing to deal with her, and from those plots of evisceration came Haven’s book.

What is the most difficult part of writing for you?

Editing. In fact, I call them ‘Dread-its’, because I just hated doing them. I realize it makes for a better book, but I just don’t wanna. (Yes, there’s a whine in there.)

Name your four most important food groups.

As a vegan I’m going with Joey’s Fabulous Tofu Steak, any Gardein product, Daiya cheese, and lots of water.


Mr. Williams, I wasn’t aware you had a dark side. Interesting. 

It’s been a while since I’ve read something dark and Haven’s Creed was the perfect story to make up for the lost time.

Parker managed to pull off beautifully a genre totally (as far as I’m aware) new to him.

The story is full of suspense, action, mystery and situations that will chill the blood in your veins.

In other words- perfect.

Haven is not exactly a hero but he’s not a villain either. Depends on how you look at things. He goes where he’s sent, does his job and returns to a solitary existence time and time again.

Wash, rinse, repeat. Until the day when everything starts to change.

Enter Sammy, a very interesting character. 

Let’s talk a little bit about his and Haven’s relationship because I have a feeling that it will be the cause of many mixed feelings.

I’ll be honest and admit that, what they have, it’s not completely healthy BUT, it’s perfect for them. Here’s why.

First of all, Sammy’s desire to be in control is completely understandable. After so many years of utter slavery, having, finally, an opportunity to be the master of his own destiny brought to the surface that part of him that has never lost hope and that no one has managed to break.

Every minute he spent outside the house of horrors and every nice word he’s received has been exactly what kept him from giving up and what his wounded soul needed to keep hoping that, someday, someone will come and set him free.

Then, there’s the hate he feels for the one who was supposed to love him unconditionally but, instead, chose to discard him like a useless rag.

He might not express it all the time, but it’s there and hate can be a powerful thing, strong enough to take over every other rational thought.

Like I said before, his attachment to Haven is not exactly healthy, but they’re not normal people either.

The rules don’t apply when it comes to them.

Sammy is everything Haven needs to escape the harsh reality of his life even for a few hours and, in exchange, Sammy draws his strength and confidence from from the knowledge that he’ll always be safe as long as he’s standing by his lover’s side. 

They need each other to heal and to be normal, or, at least, as normal they can possibly be.

If you go in hoping this will be a hearts and flowers kind of romance, let me tell you now that this definitely ain’t the book for you.

It’s dark, it’s violent and it will mess you up.

Haven’s Creed is the story of a man who’s been turned into a soulless killing machine and whose acts of violence will leave you breathless, while the other man’s story will break your heart over and over again. 

You will either love them or hate them, there’s no way in between.

My advice to you is to try and keep an open mind while reading this book. Before jumping on the “this is crap” wagon, keep in mind that there’s nothing normal when it comes to either Haven or Samuel. 

You can’t judge based on what YOU would do or what YOU think is right.

And, who knows, they might still surprise you in the end. 

Another add to my “Favorites” list. MWOB highly recommends it.

Happy Reading!!



Parker Williams believes that true love exists, but it always comes with a price. No happily ever after can ever be had without work, sweat, and tears that come with melding lives together. 
Living in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, Parker held his job for nearly 28 years before he decided to retire and try new things. He enjoys his new life as a stay-at-home author and also working on Pride-Promotions, an LGBT author promotion service.



December 11, 2015

Review, Excerpt & Giveaway! Status Update, #gaymers #1 by Annabeth Alberts




Adrian Gottlieb is winning at life. He’s a successful video game designer with everything a man could ask for, including a warm comfy ride to Denver and a date for his sister’s wedding. But he finds himself in need of a total reboot when he's left stranded at a snowy campground in Utah. Holiday plans? Epic fail.



That is until Noah Walters offers him shelter for the night and a reluctant cross-country ride. Nothing about the ultraconservative geoarchaeologist should attract Adrian, but once he discovers Noah’s hidden love for video games, the two connect on a new level. Soon, a quiet but undeniable chemistry sparks.


Something doesn’t add up, though. As the miles accumulate and time runs out, Noah must face the most difficult choice of his life. Meanwhile, Adrian must decide whether he’s ready to level up. Is their relationship status worth fighting for, or has this game ended before it's even begun?


~*~
Noah knew the dog was trouble as soon as he and Ulysses entered the campground’s off-leash dog area. The little guy—some sort of Chihuahua/mini-pin mix in a yellow-and-green checked coat—stood in the center of the scrubby grass, barking his fool head off. The only human in the dog area sat at the picnic table on the far side, completely absorbed in his shiny phone, oblivious to his dog strutting around like all eight pounds of him would be enough to keep potential threats out.
Ulysses gave Noah a look, like “you really expect me to ignore that?” Noah tightened his hold on the tennis ball chucker. Ulysses never did well competing with smaller dogs for his toys. He unclipped Ulysses with a stern look.
“Be good.”
Still yapping, the little dog rushed over to inspect his new enemy. Predictably, Ulysses wandered away to do his business. He was too old for these sorts of games.
Noah gave a halfhearted wave in the direction of the owner, but the guy didn’t look up from his phone. The young guy was a typical hipster tourist—thick tortoise-framed glasses, artfully messed-up dark hair, with a thick purple streak, falling over his forehead. Slim build, but his wide shoulders stretched his too-thin jacket, making the shiny fabric ripple with his motions. He wasn’t any more prepared for November in Utah than his designer dog. Still, he was a cute guy, if one was the type to notice things like that, which Noah was not.
Noah looked away, studying the sheer cliffs that surrounded the Capitol Reef National Park. Didn’t matter how much time he spent in Southern Utah, he never got tired of the view. Phone guy was missing the light shifting into one of those perfect late fall sunsets that made the early dusk worth the loss of daylight. Pink streaks mingled with gray sky to cast a rosy glow over the scrubby grass and low fence of the dog area.
Rowwwr. Ulysses flopped at Noah’s feet, a deep beseeching whine rattling out of his barrel chest. He was eighty pounds of unhappy. He’d waited patiently all afternoon while Noah worked, and now he was missing out on his ball time thanks to the teacup gatekeeper.
“Okay, but play nice.” Noah threw the ball hard with the chucker toy, going for enough distance to outstrip the tiny dog’s ability to keep up with Ulysses. Not surprisingly, the little guy was tenacious, cutting off Ulysses’s path to the ball. Ulysses gave a warning woof, and Noah broke into a run, heading after the dogs.
“Down,” he called out. Ulysses wouldn’t attack the smaller dog, but he wasn’t above a major tantrum. And despite the smaller dog acting as instigator, people would see the huge black dog and toss out the “aggressor” label. Noah preferred to exercise him late in the day—Ulysses simply didn’t enjoy playing with other dogs, and Noah wasn’t one to force his dog into uncomfortable situations.
The little dog stood over the ball, yapping up a storm while Ulysses barked and growled, ignoring Noah’s command to sit.
Finally, the owner hefted himself off the picnic bench.
“Pixel, baby, what are you doing?” the owner called in a melodic voice that didn’t inspire Noah’s confidence in the man’s ability to control his dog. “Did the big doggie scare you?”
Hah. Typical. Noah snorted. “Can you grab the ball?” He didn’t trust those little dog breeds—too quick to snap. He’d nearly been bitten trying to retrieve a ball more than once.
“Oh sure.” The guy reached under Pixel—typical cutesy name for an annoying dog—and delicately plucked the ball free, but instead of handing it to Noah, he gave it a toss, sending both dogs running.
Oh great. Noah let out a slow breath, little puffs of vapor in the crisp evening air that did nothing to defuse his tension.
“It’ll be okay.” The way-too-handsy guy patted the sleeve of Noah’s parka. “They just need to work it out. Pixel loves to play.”
Noah took a step to the side. Who did that? Touched complete strangers? But the guy kept up his friendly grin, not unlike his dog, who kept gamely chasing Ulysses. Ulysses won the race to the ball this time and hightailed it back to Noah. Not releasing his prize, he whined softly.
“Hey, boy. You got a toy?” The guy knelt to dog level and extended a hand, but instead of sniffing, Ulysses shook his head.
“Sorry. He’s not much on new people.” Neither am I. Noah’s voice sounded rough to his own ears—too many days with only Ulysses to talk to.
“It’s okay.” The guy straightened, then extended a hand to Noah. “I’m Adrian Gottlieb. You been at Capitol Reef long?”
“Couple of weeks.” He returned Adrian’s handshake, hating it when a little buzz shot up his arm. Unlike his own gloved hand, Adrian’s hand was bare, a hint of a tattoo playing peekaboo with his cuff, his grip strong and firm. And Noah had absolutely no business noticing anything more than the guy’s relentless friendliness.
Adrian smiled expectantly as he released Noah’s hand.
“Oh, I’m Noah. And that’s Ulysses,” he added, because dog people always wanted to know all about the dog. No doubt the guy was bursting to tell Pixel’s life story.
“Add-dreeee-an,” a heavily accented voice called from the gate. A beefy guy close to Noah’s age leaned on the fence, bald head gleaming in the setting sun. “I’m lonely. When are you coming back?”
“Coming,” Adrian shouted, then gave Noah a shrug with a “what can you do?” expression on his face. He grabbed Pixel and jogged across the field.
Noah nodded like he knew anything about handling demanding friends. Adrian greeted the mammoth dude with a quick peck. Okay then. Not a friend. He should have guessed, but he was a bit slow about relationship stuff. The country was changing, even way out here, but no one would dare try even that much PDA in his tiny West Texas college town. His stomach gave a weird flip—not quite discomfort, but something else he refused to name. Time to return his attention to Ulysses. He hurled the tennis ball as hard as he could.

~*~

Abandoned by his boyfriend far from home and with nothing but the clothes he’s wearing and his dog, Adrian has to accept the help of a total stranger or freeze to death.

Noah is working hard on finishing his book and doesn’t have time to play good Samaritan to the stranger he’s met in a parc.

Adrian represents everything he’ll never have and he’s reluctant to get close to him and open the gate to hope because he knows there’s no hope at all. 

When circumstances push them together, though, he’ll discover they have a lot in common and maybe he underestimated the charismatic stranger. 

What should have been one night of hospitality turns into a trip that will change both Noah and Adrian’s lives.

Annabeth, indeed, gets better and better with every new release. Her books are always an easy pick because they’re well written, funny, light and the stories are very captivating.

Follow Adrian and Noah’s journey as they finally let go of past insecurities and learn that, taking chances when you love someone, doesn’t necessarily means heading straight for heartbreak. Sometimes, it’s all that it takes to find the love of a lifetime. 

Can’t wait to read the second volume in this new series. 

Happy Reading!




Annabeth Albert grew up sneaking romance novels under the bed covers. Now, she devours all subgenres of romance out in the open—no flashlights required! When she’s not adding to her keeper shelf, she’s a multi-published Pacific Northwest romance writer.

Emotionally complex, sexy, and funny stories are her favorites both to read and to write. Annabeth loves finding happy endings for a variety of pairings and is a passionate gay rights supporter. In between searching out dark heroes to redeem, she works a rewarding day job and wrangles two toddlers.

Represented by Saritza Hernandez of the Corvisiero Literary Agency