August 21, 2015

Excerpt Reveal! The Shadow, The Florentine #2 by Sylvain Reynard

Release Date: February 2nd, 2016

From the New York Times bestselling author of the Gabriel trilogy comes the hotly anticipated follow-up to The Raven, a sensual novel set in Florence featuring the dangerously intoxicating coupling of Raven and William…

Raven Wood’s vampyre prince has returned, pledging his love and promising justice for every wrong done to her. In the wake of their reunion, Raven is faced with a terrible decision—allow the Prince to wreak vengeance against the demons of her past, or persuade him to stay his hand. But there is far more at stake than Raven’s heart... 

A shadow has fallen over the city of Florence. Ispettor Batelli will not rest until he uncovers Raven’s connection to the theft of the priceless art from the Uffizi Gallery. And while the Prince hunts a traitor who sabotages him at every turn, he finds himself the target of the vampyres’ mortal enemy. 

As he wages a war on two fronts, he will need to keep his love for Raven secret, or risk exposing his greatest weakness...


Raven watched as William efficiently disrobed, neatly folding every article of black clothing (with the exception of underwear, which he never wore), and placing it on the vanity.

She brushed imaginary lint from her dress as he stood in front of her, naked.

He was under six feet in height, his body lean and strong. Raven took a moment to appreciate the definition of his muscled chest and abdomen, and the strong cast to his thighs. Not even a statue carved by the most talented sculptor could create a being with so much perfection.

His face put her in mind of an angel with intense, gray eyes that now looked at her expectantly.

She hid her face. “You said you loved me.”

“I did. What’s more, I meant it.”

“Love is a peculiar thing. I’ve seen it. I’ve even cheered for it. But I never believed it was for me.”

“Why shouldn’t a beautiful, fierce young woman hope for love?”

“Because, as you put it, human beings are shallow.”

“Love is deep.” His rich voice echoed in the bathroom.

“Love is having the power to destroy another person.”

William stepped closer. “Are you afraid of being destroyed?”

“Destroyed, consumed, betrayed.” She fidgeted with the neckline of her gown.

William placed his hand over hers, stilling it. “Love creates; it doesn’t destroy.”

His lips found the place where her neck met her shoulder. He kissed her leisurely, tracing the path of her bared collarbone with his mouth.

His fingers brushed her zipper. “Let me.”

He undid her dress, dropping it to the marble tiles.

Her bra followed. She was as naked as he.

His eyes roved her body appraisingly. His pale fingers caressed her cheek, her mouth, and her neck. His strong hands cupped her breasts, her abdomen, and her hips.

His gray eyes met hers.

“The power you describe is the power you have here.” He touched her forehead before moving his hand to cover her heart. “And here. It’s the power you have over me. Power I haven’t yielded to another since I was human.”

He brought his lips to her ear. “Your fears are shared.”

With a slow kiss on her neck, he led her into the shower, standing behind her underneath a tropical rainfall showerhead.

Raven closed her eyes and lifted her face, like a flower following the sun. The warm water soaked her hair and streamed down the generous curves of her body.

“I’ve never showered with another person. What happens next?” William rested his hands on her shoulders.

She wiped the water from her face.

“Whatever you want. Just don’t let me fall.”

William’s gaze dropped to her right leg, which she was favoring.

“Is the pain terrible?”

“It’s worse after I’ve been lying down. Sometimes I topple over.”

William spread his arm around her waist, drawing her back to his chest. “Then I must be sure to catch you.”

She kissed him, reaching up to run her fingers through his wet hair as the water poured down their shoulders.

Her motions were fraught with an eagerness born of love and affection and the relief of remembering she hadn’t lost him.

He was hers.

Even now, naked, with a myriad of flaws few men overlooked, he embraced her. He embraced her imperfections.

He loved her.

His cool hands scorched her skin, splaying fingers wide over her abdomen and bringing her backside into contact with what rose between his hips.

She gave him her weight and he held firm, nipping and licking at her lips before enticing her to enter his mouth.

He entertained the intrusion for a moment or two then, with a growl, he spun her around, pressing their chests together.

Raven looked up into blazing gray eyes.

“Are you certain?”


She nodded.

“I need the words, Raven. I need to know you want this.”

“I want you.”

He took her mouth, his tongue alternately penetrating and retreating in a sensual rhythm.

She tilted her head, welcoming him, as the water continued to rain down.

Hands roamed over slick skin as their lower bodies came into alignment. She touched his neck, his shoulders, his biceps, holding them tightly in an effort to remain upright.

William was not a tame lover.

In his arms, she sensed his control, his desire, and the war that waged between the two. But he’d never harmed her and had always focused his attention on giving pleasure before taking it. Usually more than once.

“You’re a dream,” she sighed. “A dream of love I never thought I’d have.”

His eyes burned into hers.

Without warning, he lifted her, tugging her thighs around his hips.

He lowered his mouth to her breasts, tasting and teasing before sucking droplets of water from her eager flesh.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling him eager between her legs.

He lifted her higher, hands beneath her backside, making sure he was correctly aligned.

“Breathe,” he commanded, his eyes boring in to hers.

Here was the vampyre, proud and powerful, teetering on the edge of control. He bared his teeth as if on instinct and his chest rumbled.

“Just don’t break me,” she whispered, pushing a lock of blond hair from his forehead.

William’s expression grew even more fierce.

“I won’t break you. Whatever harm I bring to you I vow to heal.”

He swallowed her reply with his kiss. Then with a single thrust, he entered her.

His kisses were as fierce as his movements as he pushed inside and withdrew, over and over. His grip on her backside tightened as he lifted and moved her in concert with his own motion.

Raven clung to him, her hand trailing to his lower back so she could urge him deeper.

Not that he needed the encouragement.

Her breasts brushed against his chest, the friction teasing and arousing.

She ignored the warm spray of the water, the scent of soap and William, and the nagging discomfort in her leg and ankle. Her focus was on feeling as he brought her swiftly to the brink of orgasm.

Before she could signal how close she was, she climaxed, her hand clutching his neck as she threw her head back.

William continued his pace until she’d finished, his mouth dropping to her breasts, drawing one of them into his mouth.

When she opened her eyes, she found him staring at her hungrily.

“I have only begun,” he rasped. “Breathe.”




I’m interested in the way literature can help us explore aspects of the human condition – particularly suffering, sex, love, faith, and redemption. My favourite stories are those in which a character takes a journey, either a physical journey to a new and exciting place, or a personal journey in which he or she learns something about himself/herself.

I’m also interested in how aesthetic elements such as art, architecture, and music can be used to tell a story or to illuminate the traits of a particular character. In my writing, I combine all of these elements with the themes of redemption, forgiveness, and the transformative power of goodness.

I try to use my platform as an author to raise awareness about the following charities: Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep Foundation, WorldVision, Alex’s Lemonade Stand, and Covenant House. For more information, see my Charities page.


Excerpt & Giveaway! Undercover With The Earl, Brotherhood of the Sword #1 by Robyn DeHart





London, 1838

The handsome Earl of Summersby may just be the most eligible bachelor in London, but has no interest in a wife. As a member of the Brotherhood, Bennett Haile is far more vested in his undercover duties for the crown and protecting the Queen from would-be assassins. For now he has the perfect tool with which to lure out the villains—a young woman with an uncanny likeness to the queen.

The spirited Evelyn Marington is about to live out every country girl's dream—becoming royalty overnight. Under the tutelage of the arrogant Earl of Summersby, she'll have to fool the entire court that she is, in fact, the queen. But as danger threatens from every side, Bennett realizes that his lovely little protegĂ© isn't just placing her life in his hands... She's stealing his heart.


“Stand and walk to the other side of the room,” he said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I must evaluate how you walk.”

She gaped at him. “How I walk?”

“Do try and keep up, Miss Marrington. People will be watching.”

“Is there something wrong with how I walk?”

“Your walk is ...” No. In truth, she walked with an unconscious grace and agility he found charming. There was nothing studied about her movements, nothing calculated. She managed to be both completely natural and totally bewitching, which was entirely beside the point. “Your walk is unstudied.”

“Are you staying I'm clumsy?” Her gaze sparked with indignation, but perhaps a flash of pain as well. “I am well aware that I lack the grace and cultivation of my older sisters, but I assure you I am not some clumsy oaf who can't be trusted to walk into a room.”

He drew in a deep breath, praying for patience. This was why he wasn't yet married. This was why he was absolutely the wrong man for this job. 

“Your mannerisms must match hers,” he said tightly.

She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths before standing, then walked across the room. It was not a clumsy or awkward gait, but not regal either. 

“No.” He shook his head. “Try it again but slower, yet with more purpose.”

She crossed her arms over her ample bosom. “This is ridiculous.”

He allowed his gaze to linger on her tempting curves before stepping over to her. “Miss Marrington, do you want to do this assignment or not?”

Her mouth opened, then she paused and her brows slanted down in anger. “My Lord, I realize that you are an Earl and of relation to our Queen and our Society deems you more important than I. Perhaps they are even correct; however, it would seem to me that you,” she jabbed a finger into his chest, “need me more than I need you for this assignment. Thus far you have insulted my family, the way I walk and my hair. You are arrogant and rude and sorely lacking in manners.” Her hands fisted on her hips accenting their roundedness. 

How was it that this little slip of a woman shoed no fear of him? He’d frightened women merely by walking into their drawing room. And here, he was being a bully—and for good reason—to Evelyn Marrington, but she was quite obviously not afraid of him. He couldn’t help but find that both infuriating and alluring. 

“You have obviously decided that I do not possess the intelligence nor grace to succeed in this charade. I will not stand for this sort of treatment. I should like a carriage to bring me home on the morrow. Good day, Lord Somersby.” She turned and marched from the room. 

He watched her go in complete disbelief. No one had ever spoken to him in such a way. Arrogant and rude! She was the only lacking in manners. This entire assignment echoed with idiocy. Ellis had claimed his cousin amiable and clever, neither of which Bennett had seen. All he had witnessed was her sharp tongue. 

Damned if he didn’t find her sass alluring as hell. All the more reason to send her back home and tell Potterfield she refused to participate. Bennett couldn’t be blamed for this failure if she was the one who walked away. This would work out perfectly. He’d get to continue with the Brotherhood and not be distracted by the ridiculously attractive and fiery-tongued Miss Marrington. It would almost be worth completing the assignment just to see if she was as passionate in other areas. Almost.




National Bestselling author, Robyn DeHart's novels have appeared in the top bestselling romance and historical romance lists. Her books have been translated into nearly a dozen languages. Her historical romantic adventure series, The Legend Hunters, were not only bestsellers, but also award-winners, snagging a Reader's Crown and a Reviewer's Choice award. She had three releases in 2013 and 2014 will see four more, all set in the popular historical romance Regency and Victorian eras. Known for her "strong dialogue and characters that leap off the page" (RT Bookclub) and her "sizzling romance" (Publishers Weekly), her books have been featured in USA Today and the Chicago Tribune. A popular writing instructor, she has given speeches at writing conferences in Los Angeles, DC, New York, Dallas, Nashville and Toronto, among many others.

When not writing, you can find Robyn hanging out with her family, husband (The Professor) a university professor of Political Science and their two ridiculously beautiful and smart daughters, Busybee and Babybee as well as two spoiled-rotten cats. They live in the hill country of Texas where it's hot eight months of the year, but those big blue skies make it worth it.






August 20, 2015

Excerpt & Giveaway! Overly Dramatic by Rebecca Cohen



Andy Marshall moves to London looking for a fresh start after breaking up with his long-term boyfriend. To stave off boredom from his day job as an accountant and to meet new people, Andy joins a local amateur dramatics society called the Sarky Players based in Greenwich, South London. Despite his best efforts to avoid it, Andy is cast as one of the leads in a truly dreadful play called Whoops, Vicar, There Goes My Trousers, written by a local playwright.

The play might be bad, but the Sarky Players are a friendly bunch. Andy quickly makes new friends and finds himself attracted to Phil Cormack, a local artist helping with the props. But life doesn’t run to a script, so Andy and Phil will have to work hard to improvise their own happy ending.


The handout turned out to be a few pages of the play stapled together. Andy had expected the script for Cold Comfort Farm—this definitely wasn’t that.

“Er, Derek, have you given us the right play? This says it’s from Whoops, Vicar, There Goes My Trousers.”

“You old dog, Derek,” said Ryan with a guffaw. “You’ve lured in this poor man on the promise of a proper play.”

“It is a proper play, Ryan. Just because it was written by a local doesn’t make it any less credible.”

Dear God, what had he gotten himself into? He quickly checked the flyer and saw for the first time that the date for Cold Comfort Farm audition was the year before. Derek must’ve used the flyer to scribble down the audition times, but whether he’d deliberately meant to mislead Andy was another matter. Andy skimmed through the partial script. Instead of the gentle comedy based around a young woman who arrived in an airplane and something nasty in the woodshed, he had a 1920s farce involving a runaway goat, a vicar, and a large quantity of stolen French brandy. And that was just the scene in front of him.


Rebecca Cohen is a Brit abroad. Having swapped the Thames for the Rhine, she has left London behind and now lives with her husband and son in Basel, Switzerland. She can often be found with a pen in one hand and a cup of Darjeeling in the other.





Release Day Blitz!! Capture, A Seaside Pictures Novel by Rachel Van Dyken


Losing your ability to speak at the age of seventeen; it’s not normal or fair. 

But trauma, has a way of throwing normality out the window. 

Dani lives anything but a normal life. 

Her sister is married to one of the biggest names in Hollywood. 

Her best friends are rockstar duo AD2.

And she has more love around her than most people experience in a lifetime. 

But that doesn't change the fact their parents are dead. 

Or that it's her fault. 

It seems her new normal is being a mute, living on the inside, unable to actually communicate on the outside. 

That is until Hollywood’s newest heartthrob Lincoln Greene hires her as his assistant for the summer. 

He's gorgeous, completely unavailable, and unobtainable.

But that doesn't stop her from wondering...if things were different...would he want her?

If she was whole, would he be the other half?





“Finally!” Jaymeson pointed at both of us. “Lincoln, show her to her mark. Dani, for this scene you’re simply staring at him like you want to eat him. Think you can do that?”

I nodded.

Any woman could do that.

Most men too.

“Cue music!” Jaymeson called out. “Action.”

A techno mix of AD2’s latest song filled the air as the extras started dancing around us. I stayed glued to the wall while Lincoln delivered his lines to Pris, and then he lifted his head, meeting my gaze.

It’s just a movie. It’s just a movie.

The breath left my chest on one slow exhale as he moved toward me, his body making fluid purposeful movements through the crowd.

My lips parted; my entire body felt heavy as he approached.

He stopped in front of me, his forehead grazing mine as he leaned in a few inches. Our breath mingled as the music and scene faded around me.

“Cut!” Jaymeson yelled.

Holy crap on a cracker. I almost experienced my first stroke — at seventeen.

“You okay?” Lincoln’s eyebrows knit together in concern.

I licked the lipstick from my lips and nodded quickly.

Jaymeson approached. “Time for the kiss, remember kissing, not hockey. Clearly, you were confused earlier.”

Lincoln gritted his teeth and let out a little groan.

I patted his arm and grinned, my way of encouraging him. He seemed to pale more.

My stomach sank.

Maybe it was me.

I was the problem.

Not the kiss, but me. If he’d had trouble kissing my gorgeous sister, how was he going to be able to kiss me?

“Hey…” Lincoln cupped my cheek. “… focus on me, nothing else, alright? It’s only us.”

I nodded.

“You ever been to a party?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Ever made out with a guy at a party that wasn’t your boyfriend?”

I thought about it then slowly shook my head.

“So that’s what this scene is about. It’s about a guy seeing a girl from across the room and wanting her so badly that he’s willing to cheat on his own girlfriend for just one taste. Granted, he’s supposedly drunk and high, but that just takes the romance out of it, doesn’t it?”

He released my cheek and stepped back. “Imagine you’re trying to attract me, make your body as inviting as possible. Hell, just stand there and look at me, and you’ll sell it.”

Sell it. I repeated the words in my mind.

I could do that.

Because I wanted him to kiss me.

It made my heart beat faster.

My blood pump harder.

And for the first time since my parents’ death, I was actually excited about something. Nervous, but excited.

“Okay,” I mouthed.

I must have surprised him again because his eyes darkened, and then he grinned. “One day, Dani. One day I’m going to hear my name coming from that gorgeous mouth of yours, and I’m not going to be held responsible for my actions… damn the consequences.”

My breath hitched.

“Quiet on set! And action!”

There was no warning. Suddenly, Lincoln’s mouth was fused against mine, no teeth, just his soft lips pushing, prodding, moving slowly back and forth until his tongue slid through and made contact with mine.

Heart racing, I opened my mouth enough to deepen the kiss as heat washed over me.

He groaned and dug his fingers into my shoulders then slid his hands down my back and gripped my butt. I let out a squeak of surprise as I flicked his tongue with mine.

“Cut!” Jaymeson yelled.

I kept kissing.

So did Lincoln.

His chest brushed roughly against mine; my breasts ached at the sharp contact. I let out a little hiss at the exact time Linc let out a groan and nudged his knee between my legs.

“Cut!” Jaymeson yelled again.

Slowly, Lincoln pried himself away from me, chest heaving.

“Good enough,” said Jaymeson.

“No,” Lincoln argued without taking his wild grey eyes off me, “I went off script. We need to do it again.”

“The hell you do,” someone mumbled. I wasn’t surprised to see Demetri glaring daggers at Lincoln’s back. Alec was next to Jaymeson, giving him an earful. I noted the strong tick in his jaw.

“Fine.” Jaymeson waved them both off. “We’ll do it again.”

“Take two, and action!”

This time the kiss was slow, languid in its movements. Hot waves of pleasure coursed through my body as his tongue slid seductively pass my lips. His taste, the feel of his mouth was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. Greedily, I moaned, desperate for more of him as I reached for his shirt then fisting it with my hands and tugging him tighter against my body, wanting more contact with him. I felt every plane of muscle as he slowly turned us so his back was semi facing the camera. His knee nudged my legs apart as pressure increased down the middle of my body. I hadn’t really looked long at the script, but I was pretty sure that this wasn’t part of it.

Not that I was complaining.

He rocked into me, my back connected with the wall. With a possessive growl, he nipped my lower lip then started kissing down my neck. Kissing in public had never been my thing — but maybe that was because I’d never kissed Lincoln.

I would kiss him anywhere.

All he needed to do was ask.

Body humming with pleasure, I let out a little gasp as his warm lips met the pulse on my neck. Then his tongue licked where his lips had just been.

His knee rose higher and higher as my body sank onto his; the first contact of his leg had my body screaming with pleasure — just a little higher, just a little more.

“Cut!” someone shouted, though it didn’t sound like Jaymeson.

Suddenly, Demetri was pulling Lincoln away from me and glaring daggers at both of us. “I think you guys got the scene.”

Embarrassed, I looked down, tucking my silky hair behind my ear. Did I really almost just dry hump Lincoln Greene’s leg? In front of about twenty people, including my sister?

“You sure?” Lincoln asked, voice hoarse. I glanced up at him, his chest was heaving with exertion, his lips swollen. “Because I could have sworn I messed up my lines.”

“There are no lines, you bastard,” Demetri muttered under his breath.

“Damn it!” Jaymeson shouted. “Hey, guys, I’m going to need you to shoot it one more time. Remember, Lincoln, you’re supposed to proposition her.”

Lincoln grinned smugly at Demetri.

Demetri didn’t move.






Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor. 

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers! 

Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866! 

You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel's New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com



Excerpt & Double Giveaway! Gay for Pay by TM Smith



Christopher Allan Roberts thought he had a promising future; Captain of the football team with the promise of a scholarship to play for Alabama. His high school sweetheart and best friend for as long as he could remember, Amanda, by his side, and the love and support of his family. One night, one mistake changed everything. Chris moves to New York, adrift and alone. A walk one night brings him to the flashing lights, loud music and thrumming bodies at club Berlin. A flyer in the men’s room promises fame and fortune for anyone willing to go on camera and have sex, with another man. Money is money, and how hard could it be, right?

Christopher Allan Roberts becomes Kris Alen, All Cocks newest addition, a gay for pay porn star. 

Lincoln Carter is honest with everyone in his life, including his family, about who he is and about his sexual preferences. Linc Larson, the openly bi-sexual gay porn star will do anything with anyone, which pretty much writes his ticket in a versatility charged industry. It’s not his sexuality that interferes with his personal life; it’s his inability to trust. 

What Linc wants right now, more than anything, is the chance to do a scene with All Cocks newest acquisition, Kris Alen. Six foot two with Auburn hair, an exquisitely toned and inked up body, Kris Alen is sex personified. Linc doesn’t know if it’s the “I want the shiny new toy” aspect that calls to him, or the distant and wounded expression that haunts Kris’s eyes. 

Linc figures out early on that Kris is only working the gay for pay angle that All Cocks brings to his bank account. Can a bi-sexual man with trust issues break down the barriers that Kris has built around himself and help Christopher overcome the painful past he is running from. 

Gay for Pay is a gay for you story about two men that will have to come to terms with the mistakes they made in their past, if they want to stick around and have a chance at a future.






~ Chapter 1 | Life, as he knows it ~
January 2015

It was an unusually cold winter in New York this year, one for the record books. Blizzard like storms had shut down roads, airports and schools alike. Chris wove his way through the crowded sidewalks that were busting at the seams with tourists, all but blind and numb. He didn’t want to spend another night flipping through channels, listless, tossing and turning on Michael’s couch. Braving the artic temperatures and the crowded New York streets seemed like a far better option when he left the house, leaving his best friend and his boyfriend alone for the night, instead of being the constant third wheel. 

Chris kept his head down, his eyes only scanning his surroundings, making sure he didn’t bump into anyone or worse, walk into a street sign. He chuckled at the thought, he’d seen the video on TV a while back of a famous rapper walking right into a street sign while trying to avoid the paparazzi. Chris didn’t much care for the guy anyway, always rude to his fans and generally everyone around him, he thought it was karma and was certain even the street sign laughed that day.

Karma, that thought stopped him in his tracks. Chris tried hard not to think about the accident five years ago, the accident that took Amanda from him and alienated him from damn near everyone in his life. He lost his girlfriend, his family, most of his friends and his football scholarship in one fail swoop. The only person that stood by him through it all was his best friend, Michael. 

Waking up in the hospital alone because no one you knew could bear to be in the same room with you. The trial that not only tore apart Chris’s once close knit family, but rocked their small Alabama town. Losing his dream of playing football for the NFL, partly because of his poor decision making abilities, and partly because of the permanent injury to his spine in the accident. While he remembered every event with striking clarity, nothing tore at his soul more than what he did to Amanda. 

Michael and his boyfriend Max were the only shining light in Chris’s otherwise dark life. Michael left for college in New York not long after the trial, and convinced Chris to come with him. Chris quickly agreed knowing there was nothing left for him in Alabama. Truth be told, he didn’t really feel like he belonged anywhere, still convinced his life should have ended the night he killed his girlfriend. Michael was his strength, the brother he never had, and he helped Chris find some semblance of a life in New York. 

Chris was drawn out of his miserable memories by the loud music shaking the windows of the building he was passing. Looking up, he was drawn closer to the building by the bright lights that flashed and matched the beat of the bass perfectly. The closer Chris got to the doors the louder the music got, and the lights were almost blinding. Oddly, once he entered the building the music became hypnotic, and the darkness would have enveloped the large space within if not for the pulsating light show coming from the middle of the room.

Slowly circling the room, he took in his surroundings. There were different sized cages circling the lights and the DJ in the middle of the room, cages that held nearly naked men in various stages of undress. They were dancing, kissing, groping and in one cage, Chris was certain they were fucking. As he came around behind the center stage he saw there were several chairs and couches lined up against a back wall, and there was a man between another man’s legs, head bobbing up and down keeping time with the beat of the music. 

He stood frozen in place for a minute, staring at what was obviously a man giving another man head, right there out in the open. He wasn’t staring out of disgust, more disbelief. How was it, these men were so brazenly open about what they were doing, and the place wasn’t swarming with cops. And how was it Chris lived just a few miles away and had never noticed this place before. Michael and Max would be in heaven here, he thought. 

Making his way over to where he saw a bar set up, Chris ordered rum and coke then turned and leaned back against the bar, just watching and taking it all in. 

“Well hello there gorgeous! Haven’t seen you round these parts before.” A petite blonde had walked up to the bar next to Chris and was eyeing him like Chris usually eyed a steak. 

Chris laughed out loud, “So gay men’s pick up lines are just as bad as us straight guys eh.” Chris smiled at the smaller man. 

Chris thought he may have offended the little guy for a minute, but then he threw his head back and barked out a high pitched laugh, then straightened and smacked Chris harder than he would have thought possible on his much larger bicep. He mock flinched, “Ouch!” and grabbed his arm, still smiling though. 

The little guy shoved his hand toward Chris’s chest and he took it before shaking. “Names Colby, and who says I’m gay?” he winked at Chris before turning toward the bar and ordering a Cosmo.

“That right there little man, that says you’re gay.” Chris laughed.

“Oh ha ha, and what is your beverage of choice Jolly? Jack and coke? Budweiser?” Colby was trying hard to come across as serious, Chris could tell, but the smile never left his eyes, so Chris knew he was messing with him.

“Close, Rum and coke. Jolly?” 

“You know, the jolly green giant.” Colby winked at him again.

“Funny. Names Chris.” They both turned and watched the mass of bodies dancing, writhing, kissing and touching on the dance floor just in front of where they stood. Chris didn’t know what else to say, so he didn’t say anything. He kept stealing glances out of the corner of his eye at the man that stood next to him, Colby stood there with his head bobbing to the beat of the music, smiling and watching the scenery before him. 

Just about the time the silence bordered on awkward, Colby nudged Chris’s arm with his elbow, “So,” Colby leaned closer to Chris, making sure he could hear him over the loud music. “Are you really straight? Or are you bi? OH, is it my lucky day and you are bi-curious?” Colby waggled his eyebrows.

Chris laughed at him, shaking his head. “Nope, sorry man, I’m as straight as a board. But don’t worry, I got no problem with the lifestyle, my best friend and his boyfriend live together so I’ve spent a lot of time around gay guys and couples. Doesn’t bother me in the least.” 

Colby nodded his head as he tipped back the pink drink and took a large swig, the silence was creeping in on them once more, and then Colby nudged Chris’s shoulder again. “Can I tell you a secret?” Chris simply nodded. “My names not Colby, its Colton.” 

“So you use a fake name just in case you don’t like a guy or something.” Chris asked.

“Or something.” Colby, no Colton said. “Gay boy 101 when you live in the big apple, never use your real name unless it’s family or someone you know you can trust.”

“And you think you can trust me?” Chris asked, attempting to leer at his new friend. Colton threw his head back and laughed again, but this time Chris dodged the swipe at his arm.

Colton frowned at Chris when he sat his empty glass on the bar and ordered a glass of water instead of another drink. “You driving?” he asked. Chris shook his head. “Then why the water?”

“I have a one drink rule, and before you ask, don’t. Let’s just say, alcohol and I have a history, an ugly one, so I consume in moderation when I drink.” Chris stared down at the smaller man, waiting to see what his reaction would be. 

Colton just eyed him for a few seconds before smiling and shrugging his shoulders. “Ah, well, more for me then!” 

Chris laughed at his new friend. After a few more rounds of water, cosmos and some pleasant conversation, Chris asked Colton where the bathrooms were and they headed off in that direction. More than once Chris had to hold Colton up, the cosmos working their magic, turning Colton’s legs to jelly. When Chris was washing his hands after, he noticed a stack of fliers sitting on the counter. Grabbing one he skimmed over it then turned to Colton, “What’s this place? Do you know?” he asked.

“Ah yes, All Cocks, the end all be all of gay porn.” Colton sort of sang the words instead of speaking them. “I thought about it once, its good money, but I have this fear of public speaking, so I don’t think I could even be on camera much less have sex on camera. Jesus, but the models on that site are H.O. double T… HOT!” Colton fanned himself with his hand and Chris just laughed. 

Colton shook his hands out instead of drying them, and then ran his damp fingers through his hair, taming the unruly blonde locks. He continued to ramble on as he headed out of the restroom with Chris following behind, but not before grabbing a flyer and folding it, tucking it into his back pocket.



A military brat born and raised at Ft. Benning Georgia; Smith is an avid reader, reviewer and writer. She now calls Texas home from her small town on the outskirts of the DFW Metroplex. Most days you can find her curled up with her kindle and a good book alongside a glass of something aged and red or a steaming cup of coffee! 
At 44 years young, she's decided to enter the next phase of her life by adding the title of "author" to her list of accomplishments. Smith is a single mom of three disturbingly outspoken and decidedly different kids, one of which is Autistic. Besides her writing, Smith is passionate about Autism advocacy and LGBT rights.









Release Day Blitz! Excerpt & Giveaway! Guiding Lights by Jessica Florence

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He sings of suffering. His eyes hold the pain of living in sorrow.

The moment our gaze meets recognition flares within. 

We are tortured souls drifting in a sea of darkness.

He knows I have secrets that I'll never tell.

I am numb

I am broken

I am dirty

I can never be the guiding light through the darkness he thinks I am.

I have forsaken my past, I rely on keeping myself shut off.

But he has secrets too, secrets that would destroy everything I have left.

I wish things were different, that maybe we could be each other's lifeline.

But destiny drags us down like an anchor.

The broken can only drift in the sea barely staying afloat.



“Alright ye braw laddies 'n' lasses, shut yer traps,” the singer spoke into the mic. A small smile broke out at his demand for them to close their mouths. I hoped for his sake that they didn’t end up throwing their fish supper at him once he got started. 

His fingers started strumming low notes on an old acoustic guitar. I checked over everyone at the bar and turned back to the singer. The way he started humming against the mic sent tingles into the pit of my stomach. His eyes were closed, but even from twenty feet away, I could tell he was very attractive. Long brown hair was pulled back and tied in a little bun on the top of his head. His beard was thick and surrounded his perfectly shaped mouth. Even with his beard you could see his strong, sharp jaw. I found myself leaning against the bar, waiting to hear his voice. Would it be rough and broken with his accent? 

He kept his eyes closed as he started to sing, and my body trembled at his voice.

Satin lips taste of champagne

Her leather pants leave a stain upon her skin

A couple sniffs, the line disappears

She stays in my bed, wanting to be hidden, begging

His was voice was low and deep. It was smooth and reached down into your soul. You could feel him baring himself for all to hear. I looked around to see I wasn’t the only one enthralled. He had the whole room watching him. Hanging on for every morsel of word he would give us. When my gaze flicked back toward him, I was shocked to see honey-colored eyes staring back at me. Trapping me like quicksand, I couldn’t look away.


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Jessica Florence makes her home in Southwest Florida where she runs her own business, and of course writing! She one day after reading a book a day for a year just sat down and started writing, thus finding a new amazing hobby that she was looking for, for years, and that was also very therapeutic. 
She spends her days reading, writing, watching TV, working, playing with her cute as hell baby, and black German Shepherd Rogue aka Rogue-i-bear, and of course tormenting her husband ;)
She also enjoys taking naps, bubble baths, eating pickles like candy, and having Harry Potter marathons.




 

August 19, 2015

Release Day Blitz & Giveaway!! The Hazards Series by Alyssa Rose Ivy

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About THE HAZARDS SERIES, Books 1-3:

The Hazards of Skinny Dipping 

This isn't a deep book about first loves or self-discovery. If you want a book like that, I'd be happy to recommend one, but I don't have that kind of story to tell. Instead my story is about rash decisions and finding out that your dream guy is bad in bed. It's the story of when I finally went skinny dipping, and how my life was never the same again. Oh, and it's also the story of my freshman year of college and realizing Mr. Right might have been there all along. 

The Hazards of a One Night Stand

One small town boy, one girl who wants more, one roll in the hay... Hooking up with your high school crush is a bad idea, a really bad idea. It was only supposed to be one night, one brief departure from my real life, but nothing ever works out exactly the way you plan. Colton Waters was everything from my past that didn't fit into my present, so why did he have to show up at my college and pledge the one frat I couldn't avoid? Because nothing is ever meant to happen just once. At least not the life changing things that mean the difference between falling apart and falling in love. 

The Hazards of Sex on the Beach 

One broken heart, one drink too many, one steamy night in the sand... No one warns you about the dangers of drinking with a broken heart. At least no one warned me. I never imagined I'd fall for a musician, especially not one like Chase, but then again I never expected to have my heart broken into a million pieces by the frat guy I thought was the love of my life. Sometimes it's the rash decisions, like hooking up in the sand, that lead you to the best places—the kinds of places where it's possible to let yourself fall in love again. 



Alyssa Rose Ivy Bio: Alyssa Rose Ivy is a New Adult and Young Adult author who loves to weave stories with romance and a southern setting. Although raised in the New York area, she fell in love with the South after moving to New Orleans for college. After years as a perpetual student, she turned back to her creative side and decided to write. She lives in North Carolina with her husband and two young children, and she can usually be found with a cup of coffee in her hand.