Release Day Blitz! Excerpt & Giveaway: Dom of Ages, Collars & Cuffs #7 by K.C. Wells & Parker Williams

Eli may only be thirty, but he has had enough of pretend submissives. He wants a sub who truly knows how to submit. So when he spies Jarod in a BDSM club, everything about the man screams submission. It doesn’t matter that Jarod has to be about twenty years older than Eli. What does age matter, anyway? Not one to miss an opportunity, Eli moves fast and takes Jarod home with him, without thinking things through. All he can see is what he’s always wanted – a sub who wants to serve.

Jarod spent twenty-eight years with his Master, until Fate took Phillip from him. Four years on, and Jarod is still lost, so when a young Dom takes charge, Jarod rolls with it and finds himself serving again. But he keeps waiting for the shoe to drop. Because there’s going to come a point when Eli realizes he’s a laughing stock in the club. Who would want to be seen with a fifty-year-old sub? And when the moment of humiliation does arrive, Jarod flees. He’d be better off with Phillip. 

Despite several missteps, what happens forces Eli to understand that Jarod needs him as much as he needs Jarod. But he knows in order to find happiness, they need friends who will understand. A friend keeps telling him Collars & Cuffs is what they need. Eli finally goes to visit, refusing to risk Jarod being hurt again, and finds everything he's heard about the club is true. When he takes Jarod, he watches as his sub is met with open arms. As they settle in to their new life, Eli begins to see things differently. And he dares to think he can have it all. Until the phone call that shows him he didn't realize what he could lose.

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E-BOOKS 1 – 6 are on sale at Dreamspinner for $1.00 each! http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/index.php?cPath=907

~*~

Eli

I climbed back into the cab of the truck, my bladder relieved. A glance at my phone told me I could spare half an hour for lunch. I’d done three runs that morning, and I was ready for a break. I’d parked in the car park of one of the M6 motorway service stations, alongside a load of trucks and lorries.

I pulled open the plastic bag Jarod had thrust into my hand as I’d walked out the door that morning, and smiled. He’d put together a great lunch for me, and my belly rumbled at the sight of more of those delicious rolls. Talk about spoiled.

I took a bite of fresh bread and cooked ham, and reflected on the events of the previous night. I couldn’t wait to get home and see what was waiting for me. I wondered what Jarod was doing at that moment. A sub who wants to serve. It was something I’d thought about often, having someone around to take care of my needs, physical and otherwise.

Who’d have thought the night would’ve ended like that?

My phone pulsed out a shrill tone. I reached for it and grinned when I saw Ben’s name. He wasn’t going to believe this, either.

“Hey, what gives?”

“I wasn’t sure if you had a full day planned. I wondered if you’d like to go for a run this evening.”

I smiled to myself. “Okay, what’s Scott doing?”

“How do you know he’s doing anything?” Then Ben chuckled. “Oh, all right, he’s at a class. I thought I’d see if you were available.”

I wasn’t fooled, not for a second. “Yeah, right. What you really mean is, your boy’s not available, so you’ll make do with me.” I laughed when the line fell silent. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Oh hush. Do you want to go for a run or don’t you?”

Any other time, it would have been a great idea, but all I wanted to do after work was to go home and see what Jarod had accomplished. Speaking of which….

“Yeah, fine. Listen, you’re not gonna believe what happened to me last night at the club.” Without waiting for him to butt in, I told him the whole story.

More silence. “Ben? You there?”

“You are kidding me, right?”

I stiffened. “Why, what’s the matter?”

“Where is this guy now?”

I huffed. “Jarod’s at my house, cleaning, or maybe he’s out shopping for groceries. Why?”

Ben sighed. “Let me get this straight. You put a collar on this guy and then just took him home with you? After a conversation that must’ve lasted, what, all of two minutes? You really haven’t thought this through, have you?”

I was beginning to feel exasperated. “Look, what is your problem? Jarod’s a sub, he wants to serve, and I want someone to serve me.”

I swore Ben growled down the phone at me. “If you were a member of Collars & Cuffs and Thomas got to hear about this, you’d be out on your ear. He’s one of the guys who owns the club, and he’s trained a lot of Doms. He has this list of one hundred rules. I think you’ve probably broken at least ten of them.”

I didn’t understand his reaction. “But this is what I’ve wanted for so long, someone to take care of me.”

“Oh, so you’re paying Jarod, is that right?”

“What?”

“Because basically, he’s not your submissive, he’s your servant. He can’t be your submissive without a contract, without some discussion of his limits.” Ben’s voice hardened. “What discussion have you actually had, apart from ‘here’s money for the shopping, cook my dinner, etc’? Did you at least make him a shopping list?”

My head was spinning. Hearing Ben put it like that really made me think.

“Eli.” Ben’s voice softened. “I understand what you’re saying, but the fact of the matter is, you know nothing about him. So no, we’re not going for a run tonight. You need to go home and clear up your mess.” Another sigh. “Sorry, mate, but it needs to be said. What sort of friend would I be if I didn’t tell you when you fuck up?” His rough chuckle tickled my ear.

That made me think. “Fair enough. I’ll speak to you soon, yeah?” We said good-bye, and I finished my lunch. Only now, each mouthful felt like I was swallowing pebbles.

I have fucked this up, haven’t I?Ben was right. I needed to go home and fix things—if they were fixable.

~*~

K.C. Wells: 

Born and raised in the north-west of England, K.C. Wells always loved writing. Words were important. Full stop. However, when childhood gave way to adulthood, the writing ceased, as life got in the way.

K.C. discovered erotic fiction in 2009, where the purchase of a ménage storyline led to the startling discovery that reading about men in love was damn hot. In 2012, arriving at a really low point in life led to the desperate need to do something creative. An even bigger discovery waited in the wings—writing about men in love was even hotter....

K.C. now writes full time and is loving every minute of her new career.

The laptop still has no idea of what hit it... it only knows that it wants a rest, please. And it now has to get used to the idea that where K.C goes, it goes.

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Parker Williams: 

Parker Williams began to write as a teen, but never showed his work to anyone. As he grew older, he drifted away from writing, but his love of the written word moved him to reading. A chance encounter with an author changed the course of his life as she encouraged him to never give up on a dream. With the help of some amazing friends, he rediscovered the joy of writing, thanks to a community of writers who have become his family.

Parker firmly believes in love, but is also of the opinion that anything worth having requires work and sacrifice (plus a little hurt and angst, too). The course of love is never a smooth one, and Happily Ever After always has a price tag.

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Book Promo! The Promise of Surrender, The MacKenzie Family #13.5 by Liliana Hart

Mia Russo spent ten years working undercover, entrenched in the dregs of society before handing in her shield. Opening her own pawn shop is a piece of cake in comparison. All she needs is the bad attitude she developed on the streets and the shotgun under her counter to keep law and order. Until the day Zeke McBride walks into her shop.

Zeke knows Mia has every right not to trust him. He was the one who chose the next op instead of her. And all he can hope is that somewhere under the snarl and cynicism is a woman who can forgive. Because whether she trusts him or not, they’re going to have to work together to bring down the gang that’s decided Mia is their next target. 

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~*~

The door opened and boots scraped across the hardwood floor. Something in the atmosphere changed—an electric current that was all too familiar. It heated her from the inside out, but chills pebbled across her skin. Her nipples spiked right along with her temper. It had always been that way.

Zeke McBride looked better than she remembered—though he was harder and had more of an edge. He’d always kept his dark hair shaved close to the scalp, but she could see the threads of silver sneaking in, especially around the temples. He’d always had facial hair for as long as she’d known him, but he’d let it grow to full scruff, and there was plenty of silver in that too. The age looked good on him. 

His eyes were a dark forest green with flecks of gold, and he had impossibly long lashes for a man. She’d always been jealous. Those eyes never missed anything. One of his eyebrows had a scar running through it. That was new since she’d seen him last. 

Zeke had always been big—several inches over six feet and muscled like a bodybuilder. The sleeves of his black shirt fit tight around his tattooed biceps and he wore jeans and a pair of steel-toed black boots. He was one-hundred percent badass, and if she still wasn’t so mad at him she’d have pounced and claimed what was hers. 

He’d always loved the undercover life. In his mind it was the ultimate battle of good versus evil. It was a way to feed the adrenaline rush, play within the shades of gray, and ultimately put away the bad guys. 

Memories assaulted her—love and fear and chaos and danger and arguments—lots of arguments—and she was suddenly back in the place she’d been seven years before. Hurt and scared and not willing to sacrifice anything more than she already had. And he hadn’t been willing to sacrifice anything at all. Or it least it had seemed that way to her. But she’d been unbending—they both had—so she’d walked away. 

“Well, f*ck,” she said. 

“It’s good to see you too, Mia.”

~*~

 

Liliana Hart is a New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author in both the mystery and romance genres. After starting her first novel her freshman year of college, she immediately became addicted to writing and knew she’d found what she was meant to do with her life. She has no idea why she majored in music.

Liliana is an avid reader and a believer in all things romance. Her books are filled with witty dialogue, steamy sex, and the all-important happily-ever-afters her romantic soul craves. Since self-publishing in June of 2011, she’s sold more than 1.2 million ebooks all over the world.

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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.

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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.

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Release Day Blitz!! A Serious Thing, Will & Patrick 1.5 by Annabelle Jacobs

Patrick has a plan, and he’ll go to great lengths to see it through.

After three weeks apart due to work and school commitments, he and Will are finally getting to spend some time together. Patrick is staying with Will over the Christmas holidays, and he intends to tell him how he feels on Christmas Day. It’s going to be perfect.

But of course, Patrick’s plans don’t always go smoothly….

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~*~

Will took his time in the shower, letting the hot water ease his tired muscles from the three-hour drive, and he was only just done toweling off when the doorbell rang.

“For fuck’s sake.”

Who the hell could that be?

If it was one of his mates, they’d have to go away and come back tomorrow, because no way did he want guests in his house when Patrick got there. Which would be in—he checked his phone—roughly an hour. He grabbed a dry towel from the rail and wrapped it around his waist, cursing under his breath at the chill as he marched downstairs.

A familiar figure stood on the other side of the front door. His features weren’t visible through the opaque glass, but Will would recognize him anywhere. He unlocked the door and yanked it open, only to be met with a gust of cold air.

“Fuck, that’s cold!”Patrick snapped his head up from where he’d been staring down at his phone, and a huge smile spread across his face at the sight of Will. “Well, hello to you too.” He quickly stepped forward and bundled Will back inside, closing the door behind him. “This is like old times,” he said, bracketing Will up against the wall.

~*~

Annabelle Jacobs lives in the South West of England with three rowdy children, and two cats.

An avid reader of fantasy herself for many years, Annabelle now spends her days writing her own stories. They're usually either fantasy or paranormal fiction, because she loves building worlds filled with magical creatures, and creating stories full of action and adventure. Her characters may have a tough time of it—fighting enemies and adversity—but they always find love in the end.

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Excerpt, Guest Post & Giveaway! Three To Get Ready, Mannies Incorporated #4 by Sean Michael

Single father Jack Jones is in dire need of a new nanny. His five year old son Nathan is legally blind, he has twin baby girls arriving in less than two months and the girl currently working for him is leaving at Thanksgiving to go home and continue her higher education. If Mannies Incorporated doesn’t come up with a viable candidate soon, he’s not sure what he’s going to do.

Dan Miller is on the hunt for a new job. He’s had some great placements with Mannies Incorporated, many as Manny to multiple birth families to get them over the hump. He even has experience with special needs children, so the job he’s interviewing for looks like it’s right up his alley.

When Dan arrives at Jack’s house, he discovers that this Jack Jones is his Jack Jones, the man he was in love with during college, and who broke up with Dan because Dan wanted children. Will Dan and Jack be able to put the past behind them and work together, or will their past keep them from having a future together?

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~*~

Dan Miller followed the instructions on his GPS to one Jack Jones' house for his interview. He was trying to decide if it was a good or bad omen that he'd dated a Jack Jones. It had ended, so maybe bad. On the other hand, they'd ended because Jack didn't want kids and he did, which was better to learn early on, before they'd invested a lot of time in each other, right? So good sign.

Chuckling at himself, he went over what Drake at Mannies Inc had told him about the family.

Single gay dad, one special needs son - the boy was nearly six and clinically blind. Apparently he could see general shapes if they were high contrast and he could see lights and light contrast. There were twin girls on their way. In a couple of weeks in a few weeks in fact. 

Newborns were Dan's favorite. He loved that new baby smell. He loved their chubby little cheeks and limbs, their fat bellies and how quickly they changed. 

After reading the file, he'd had to agree with Drake that he seemed like a really good fit for the family. 

The position was live-in, so he paid close attention as the condo came into view. Not far from the beach, it was a decent size, not too big, but not tiny. The front was neat and he could see the backyard was fenced in. 

Pulling into the drive, he turned off the engine and took a deep breath. Okay. Interview time. He climbed out of the car, with his best ‘I’m the perfect man to look after your kids’ face on. 

He knocked on the front door. 

"Daddy! Maddie, someone is here!" 

"I'll get it, man. Hopefully this one will work for your daddy, Mr. Picky. I have to leave the week of Thanksgiving. I have to." 

The door opened and a lovely dark-skinned young woman stood there with a skinny little boy in thick glasses. "Hey there. Can I help you?" 

"Hi, Dan Miller. I'm here to see Mr. Jones?" 

"Sure. Come on in. I'm Maddie, Nathan's personal assistant." She winked at him. 

"Very nice to meet you." He shook her hand. 

Then he turned his attention to the little boy. "Hey there, You must be Nathan." 

"Uh-huh. Nathan James Jones." One hand was held out. "Pleased meeting you." 

Dan took Nathan's hand and shook it solemnly. "Pleased to meet you, too." 

"Hey there. Sorry, man. I was paying some bills. Crazy life." 

Dan looked up at the familiar voice and blinked. Strong jaw, blond curls, and the bluest eyes in the history of the earth -- that was Jack. His Jack. 

Dan felt like he'd been poleaxed. 

His Jack who didn't want kids, no way no how was he fucking crazy for even suggesting it. 

"Jack?" Oh, smooth, Dan. Clearly it was Jack. Hell, even if he couldn't believe his eyes, the folder he'd gotten from Drake had said the guy's name was Jack. 

"Dan? Danny? Oh, my God!" Jack's eyes went wide. "Look at you. You look amazing."He kind of hated the way Jack's words made him stand a little taller, a little straighter. "So do you. The years have been good to you." Twelve years. Shit, things had changed in that time, that much was obvious, but not how just a glance from those devastating eyes could make his cock perk up. That hadn’t changed a damn bit.

~*~

One thing I’m often asked in interviews is do I have any advice for up and coming writers and my answer is always the same. Read, read, read, and then read some more, and write every day. There’s more to it than just that, of course.

Number 1: I maintain that this is the most important one -- write every day. It seems simple enough – if you want to become a writer then you have to write. Doing it every day, whether or not you are in the mood to makes it become a habit, makes it something you do no matter what. It keeps you doing that thing every day that most makes you a writer.

Number 2: almost as important as number 1 is that read, read and read some more thing. Fall in love with the words, the way they can be put together. Have favorite authors – have too many to name. In your genre, outside of your genre, fiction, non-fiction. If it’s there, read it.

Number 3: people watch. When you’re out, pay attention to the people around you. Not in a creepy way, of course, but be aware and see.

Number 4: this is a corollary of 3 – make up stories for the people you see. That guy who is hurrying like the hounds of hell are after him, what is he running from? Or is he running to something? The girl with tears in her eyes – did she just get bad news? Did she just get dumped? Or is there something in her eye? Everyone has a story and you can give each person who catches your eye one of their own.

Number 5: when you’re blocked, go on to something else. I usually have quite a few story documents open, so if one is only sludging along, I might make myself do a paragraph and then move on to another. There’s always at least one story that is almost writing itself and my fingers can barely keep up. Tomorrow, that story might be the slowest of them all, but then I can move on to a different one and never have that feeling of writer’s block.

Number 6: Never stop telling yourself stories, never stop making things up and asking silly questions like what color is an elf’s come? Does it taste different from human spunk?

Number 7: Love what you do! If you hate writing there are way easier jobs to not enjoy.

Jack, one of the main characters in Three to Get Ready is a writer, albeit a journalist so it’s not quite the same thing. But he works from home and freelances, so he has a lot of the same distractions as say I do. And he has to make himself work on his stories, either writing them or researching them, every day so that he hits self-imposed deadlines and the deadlines he’s accrued from the places he submits to. He can’t imagine doing anything else to make a living, though, unless someone comes up with a plan to pay him for spending time with his son.

Sean

Smut fixes everything

Often referred to as "Space Cowboy" and "Gangsta of Love" while still striving for the moniker of "Maurice," Sean Michael spends his days surfing, smutting, organizing his immense gourd collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by horseshoe crabs. While collecting vast amounts of vintage gay pulp novels and mood rings, Sean whiles away the hours between dropping the f-bomb and pursuing the kama sutra by channeling the long lost spirit of John Wayne and singing along with the soundtrack to "Chicago."

A long-time writer of complicated haiku, currently Sean is attempting to learn the advanced arts of plate spinning and soap carving sex toys.

Barring any of that? He'll stick with writing his stories, thanks, and rubbing pretty bodies together to see if they spark.

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Book Promo! Montana Hearts: Sweet Talkin' Cowboy by Darlene Panzera

Darlene Panzera continues her heartwarming Western series with a roughed-up cowboy, the feisty girl next door, and the deal that brings them together

If it wasn’t for an injury to his leg, Luke Collins would be riding rodeo broncos all day, every day. Until he heals, he’s determined to help his family’s guest ranch bring in money any way he can. But when a cranky neighbor gets in the way of his goal, Luke turns to the only person he knows can help: the gorgeous, rodeo-barrel-racing spitfire next door.

It’s no secret: Sammy Jo’s father is a pain in the neck. But if anyone can persuade him, it’s her. So when Luke asks for help, Sammy Jo is more than willing to make a deal with the handsome cowboy. The cost? He’s gotta get back up on that horse—with Sammy Jo’s help, of course.

As teamwork reveals a deeper connection, Luke finds himself falling for the beautiful girl next door. But to win her heart? He’ll just have to do whatever it takes.

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~*~

A loud scuffle sounded from within the cabin, followed by a thud, as if something had bumped against the interior wall. Luke Collins stopped his trek down the dirt path in front to listen and wondered who or what was inside. The two unfinished cabins at the end of the row on his family's guest ranch were supposed to be empty. 

He glanced down at his two-and-a-half-year-old niece and tightened his hold on her small hand. 

"Onkle Uke, what's that?"

"What's what?" Luke asked, keeping his tone light to hide his alarm.

Another thud creaked the woodwork beside them.

"That," Meghan said, her blue eyes wide.

Luke's gut tightened as he noticed the front door had been left ajar. "Could be a squirrel," he told her. Then he remembered the other creature they'd found in a cabin the month before and forced a smile. "Or a skunk."

"Pee-yew!" Meghan said, scrunching up her nose.

Luke nodded. "Yes, skunks smell pee-yew. Stand back while I check and see."

The first of the two unfinished cabins had been framed, roofed, and sheeted with plywood; nearly complete. He stepped onto the wooden porch and adjusting his weight to his good foot, pushed the door in with the tip of his cane. Although he'd never dreamed he'd be using an old-man stick while still in his twenties, the cane did come in handy from time to time and provided him with a ready weapon—if ever he should need one.

The hinges on the door were new and didn't screech like some of the older cabins when opened. Luke waited a second to see if anything would run out. Nothing did, but another bump sounded on the inside wall, letting him know something was in there.

Something a whole lot larger than the creatures he'd mentioned to his niece. 

A shot of adrenaline coursed through his veins and glancing over his shoulder, he told Meghan, "Go over to the garden and stay with your great-grandma for a moment."

He watched until the toddler had joined the eighty-year-old white haired woman a safe distance away. The day before, a few of the guests at Collins Country Cabins had reported seeing two men in black ski masks looking through their window while they were undressing. What if the peeping toms were holing up in this unfinished cabin? 

Luke pressed himself against the outside wall and strained his ears to listen, but all was silent. Then, despite the limp from his left leg, he used the stealth he'd maintained from his past military training to move inside.

His first glance around the rough interior revealed a man's jacket lying on the floor. The savory scent of pepperoni pizza permeated the air. He heard a soft murmur of voices and spun toward his right, his cane raised high, ready to strike. And standing not ten feet away from him there was indeed a man...with his arms around his older sister. 

Bree jumped away from her fiancé, Ryan Tanner, with a start. "Luke! What are you doing here?" 

"My job," he said, shooting them each a grin as he lowered the cane. "Which is more than I can say for the two of you, unless you've added kissing to your list of ranch duties."

Ryan chuckled and wrapped an arm around Bree's shoulders. "Absolutely. No cowboy can work at peak performance without a few stolen kisses."

"If you say so," Luke said, unconvinced. 

"I worked all morning on the finances and future bookings," Bree informed him. "And Ryan doesn't have to lead the mini round-up until tonight."

Meghan peeked her blond, double-pony-tailed head through the doorway. "No pee-yew?"

"No skunk," Luke assured her. "Just Aunt Bree and Cowboy Ryan."

"Looks like Delaney has you working hard," Bree teased, referring to their younger sister. "She's got you baby-sitting?"

Luke picked Meghan up with one arm and lifted her onto his shoulders. "Del's getting ready to take a few guests on a trail ride, and Ma, Dad, and Grandma plan to take a trip into town, so Meghan's gonna watch me work. I need to finish siding this cabin and continue framing the next."

Bree gave him an earnest look. "We need the cabins finished before the Hamilton wedding in August."

"Don't I know it." His family was depending on his carpentry skills to get the job done and reminded him at every turn. 

Luke couldn't blame them. As co-owners of Collins Country Cabins, they each needed the large amount of money the wedding with its 100-person guest list would bring in. Especially after their previous ranch managers fled at the beginning of the summer season with most of their cash. Their father had trusted Sue and Wade Randall, but when a fall from his horse landed him in the hospital, the couple used the opportunity to embezzle as much as they could.

"When are you going to start planning your own wedding?" Luke asked, trying to take the focus off himself.

Bree glanced at Ryan and smiled. "Sammy Jo agreed to help me plan an engagement party set for the end of next month, but the actual wedding won't be for another year."

Ryan nodded. "I tried to convince her to marry me now, but she says she needs time to plan out all the details."

"I just want it to be perfect," Bree said, her cheeks coloring. "And I'm hoping the Hamilton wedding will give me some good ideas. You know, I thought we could decorate all the guest cabins with white garlands and..." Bree's voice trailed off and Luke watched her gaze drift toward his cane. "Of course I'll do all the decorating. I don't expect you to have to get up on a ladder, Luke. In fact, why don't you let Ryan and I help you right now?" 

Luke stiffened. "Nope. I've got this. No offense, Bree, but you don't know the first thing about construction."

"Well, then, why don't you let me watch Meghan," she persisted, "so she doesn't get in your way and—"

"Trip me?" Luke frowned. "No, I promised little Meggie that she and I would spend the afternoon together."

Bree pursed her lips and her gaze drifted toward his cane again. "But it would be easier if—" 

He shook his head. "The days are longer now that it's the tail-end of June. I'll get it done," he promised. 

Without anyone taking pity on me.

He knew his sister didn't mean to look at him like that, but he and his siblings hadn't seen each other for close to a year before they returned to Fox Creek to help out on their family's Montana guest ranch six weeks before. And up till then, he'd kept his injury to himself. 

They still weren't used to the idea he needed a cane to get around, but then again, neither was he. The sooner he got the money for the knee surgery, the better, except...he cringed every time he thought of being knocked out for the procedure. 

Greg Quinn, one of his friends in the army, survived a horrendous helicopter crash only to die twenty-four hours later due to complications from the meds used to put him to sleep prior to surgery to remove a damaged kidney. 

Luke swung Meghan off his shoulders and in one swift move, set her back on her feet. "Like I said, I've got it handled."

"Okay, then," Bree said, her voice still hesitant. A second later she smiled. "If you do need help, you know where you can find us."

"Yes, I do." Luke glanced down at his niece. "We'll leave them be and work on the other cabin," he told the blond-haired cutie. "The other one's more fun anyway."

Back outside, Meghan giggled as she ran toward the open slatted two-by-fours framing up the walls of the cabin next door. "You can't catch me!"

Luke hobbled along with the help of his cane to chase after the child, but his mind remained back with Ryan and Bree.

He was happy for them. He was. They'd all grown up together and Ryan Tanner was a good man. With money. His family owned the Triple T cattle ranch, largest in Fox Creek, maybe largest in all of Gallatin County. 

But only six weeks had passed since their father had been injured in a fall from his horse and Luke, Bree, and Delaney had come home. Only six weeks since their grandmother offered them each part of the ranch profits if they agreed to stay. Six weeks since Bree and Ryan had reunited after years of being apart—long enough for Ryan to have a seven-year-old son.

And now, as of last night, they were engaged. How crazy was that? 

There was no way he'd ever get engaged to someone after so little time together. At least they were planning to wait a year before going through with the actual wedding. Bree said she needed time to plan but he hoped it also gave her enough time to make sure she was doing the right thing. 

Of course, he had to admit she and Ryan seemed meant for each other. He glanced down at his leg. Maybe after he saved enough money and had the surgery he needed to carry his weight, he'd consider dating again. But not before then. Not until he was whole. The last thing he needed was for a country cowgirl to remind him with every soulful glance that he was damaged goods. And not the hair-raising, high-flying, bronco-bustin' cowboy he used to be.

~*~

DARLENE PANZERA writes sweet, fun-loving romance and is a member of the Romance Writers of America’s Greater Seattle chapter. Her career launched when her novella “The Bet” was picked by Avon Books and New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber to be published within Debbie’s own novel, Family Affair. Darlene says, “I love writing stories that help inspire people to laugh, value relationships, and pursue their dreams.”

Born and raised in New Jersey, Darlene is now a resident of the Pacific Northwest, where she lives with her husband and three children. When not writing she enjoys spending time with her family and her two horses, and loves camping, hiking, photography, and lazy days at the lake.

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Excerpt & Giveaway! Need Your Love by Dean Pace-Frech

n June, 1966, ACLU attorney Eron Lassiter attends his uncle’s wedding, and makes an unsettling discovery. Though he’d bowed to family pressure and has a potential marriage planned, his long-ignored attraction to other men roars to life when Garrett Emerson, the bride’s nephew, captures his attention. 

After serving in the Korean War and going to college later than his peers, upwardly mobile Garrett is a loan officer at a local bank. For his girlfriend, fiancé in her mind, he can’t climb fast enough. But none of that matters to Eron, and maybe that’s why Garrett’s so drawn to him.

Can Eron and Garrett find happiness amidst the still pervasive culture of propriety, honor, and expectation in the 1960s?

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~*~

They finished the drive back to the apartment in silence. Eron’s sincerity had shone through when he spoke of what they had done and his lack of regret. Eron’s words eased the tension between them. At the flea market, with other people around, they had no trouble carrying on a conversation.

Garrett pulled into his parking spot and nodded toward his apartment as they got out of the car. Once inside, Eron lowered himself to the davenport and Garrett plopped down next to him.

“I’ve been a jerk,” Eron said.

“We’re both confused. Don’t be so hard on yourself. It doesn’t help that we both have girlfriends and family that only want what they think is the best for us.”

“Do you and Johnette…you know…”

“Have sex? No. I used to tell myself it was because she was a respectable girl and we should wait.”

“And now?”

“Come on, you know the answer to that. What about you and Mary Ellen?”

“Same situation.”

“Eron, why did you come see me today?”

Eron had struggled with the same question. “As much as I don’t want to be queer, I want to be with you.”

“I understand that,” Garrett said after a while. “I don’t identify with the queens that live in the city.”

“What about our jobs? Our family?”

“Could we make it work?”“I have no idea. Honestly I don’t. I’ve spent hours plotting and examining every angle and I’m more confused than I was to start. I walled up any feelings I had about other men a long time ago, but you brought them to the surface.”

~*~

With inspiration from some historical tourism sites, the love of reading, and a desire to write a novel, L. Dean Pace-Frech started crafting his debut novel, A Place to Call Their Own, in 2008. After four years of writing and polishing the manuscript, he submitted it for publication and Musa Publishing offered him a contract in early 2013.

Dean lives in Kansas City, Missouri with his partner, Thomas, and their two cats. They are involved in their church and enjoy watching movies, outdoor activities in the warmer weather and spending time together with friends and family. In addition to writing, Dean enjoys reading and patio gardening.

Prior to novels, Dean did some technical writing in his career. He has written another complete fiction manuscript and has a third manuscript outlined.

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