January 21, 2016

Book Promo! Hazard of Shadows, Chronicles of the Goblin King #2 by Mike Phillips



The enchanted creatures of legend still exist, taking refuge from an age of camera phones and government labs in a secret place called the World Below. After leading a revolution against Baron Finkbeiner, the despotic ruler of the World Below, Mitch Hardy has taken the throne. Unknown to him, ancient powers are at work. The Lords of Faerie seek to revenge the death of Baron Finkbeiner and recover the mysterious Blade of Caro. Soon Mitch is fighting for his life against hellish monsters, the likes of which he never imagined.

 photo addtogoodreadssmall_zpsa2a6cf28.png photo B6096376-6C81-4465-8935-CE890C777EB9-1855-000001A1E900B890_zps5affbed6.jpgB&N   



Mike Phillips grew up on a small farm in West Michigan, living much the way people did at the turn of the century. Whether it was growing fruits and vegetables or raising livestock, Mike learned the value of hard work and responsibility at a young age.

While his friends spent their summers watching reruns of bad sitcoms, Mike’s father gave him a very special gift. He turned off the television. With what was affectionately referred to as “the idiot box” no longer a distraction, Mike was left to discover the fantastic worlds that only exist in books. When not tending sheep, gardening, building furniture, chopping wood, or just goofing off, Mike spent his time reading.

With all that hard work at home, Mike was always eager to go to school. He excelled as a student and went on to pursue a career in the sciences. Working as a Safety Engineer in the Insurance Industry, Mike soon became bored with the corporate grind. Writing engaged him like nothing else. After a few novels and numerous short stories, he thought getting published would be a pretty neat idea. And so, here it goes…

    

January 20, 2016

Release Day Blitz & Giveaway! #Junkie, GearShark #1 by Cambria Hebert



Drew Forrester is a total adrenaline junkie.
His high of choice?
Cars.
The faster, the better.
He’s been making waves in Maryland’s underground racing circuit since he crossed the state line, and after speaking with him, we know he’s not hitting the brakes anytime soon.
So what exactly does it take to burn rubber and make a name for yourself in a world where the only rule is there are no rules?
You gotta be hungry…
You gotta have balls…
And you can never back down.
What’ve we learned here at GearShark?
Drew is all of the above.
We also know he’s got some secrets buried under his hood.
Secrets we think are loaded with octane and just might set the world of cars on fire.

Check out the full feature article inside…
*this is a spin-off of the Hashtag series but it can be read on its own.
**This book contains an M/M romance relationship.






Cambria Hebert is an award winning, bestselling novelist of more than twenty books. She went to college for a bachelor’s degree, couldn’t pick a major, and ended up with a degree in cosmetology. So rest assured her characters will always have good hair. 

Besides writing, Cambria loves a caramel latte, staying up late, sleeping in, and watching movies. She considers math human torture and has an irrational fear of chickens (yes, chickens). You can often find her running on the treadmill (she’d rather be eating a donut), painting her toenails (because she bites her fingernails), or walking her chorkie (the real boss of the house). 

Cambria has written within the young adult and new adult genres, penning many paranormal and contemporary titles. Her favorite genre to read and write is romantic suspense. A few of her most recognized titles are: The Hashtag Series, Text, Torch, and Tattoo.

Cambria Hebert owns and operates Cambria Hebert Books, LLC.


Excerpt & Giveaway! Magnate, Acquisition #2 by Celia Aaron




Lucius Vinemont has spirited me away to a world of sugar cane and sun. There is nothing he cannot give me on his lavish Cuban plantation. Each gift seduces me, each touch seals my fate. There is no more talk of depraved competitions or his older brother – the one who’d stolen me, claimed me, and made me feel things I never should have. Even as Lucius works to make me forget Sinclair, my thoughts stray back to him, to the dark blue eyes that haunt my sweetest dreams and bitterest nightmares. Just like every dream, this one must end. Christmas will soon be here, and with it, the second trial of the Acquisition.


“Off.” He growled and gripped one side, yanking the shirt apart, buttons bouncing off the hardwood floors as he pulled the shirt roughly down my arms and tossed it.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” His body was hot, alive, and hard at my back. I couldn’t stay here. Not with him. Not in this bed like we were lovers, like we were two people who could seek solace from each other. We weren’t. We never could be those people. “Stop!”

He caged me, my struggles nothing to him even in his weakened state. “You aren’t leaving this bed. Get used to it. Don’t fucking try anything.”

I stopped fighting. There was no point. I would just have to wait until he fell asleep.

“You’re mine, Stella.” He tightened his grip with each word. “I don’t care where you run, who you choose, what you say, or what you fucking do. You, all of you, belongs to me.”

“I’m not a thing you can own,” I hissed.

He laughed, the sound low and full of heat. “You can hop countries like a skipping stone for all I care. I’ll find you, and you’ll wind up right where you are now.”






Celia Aaron is the self-publishing pseudonym of a published romance and erotica author. She loves to write stories with hot heroes and heroines that are twisty and often dark. Thanks for reading.

Sign up for my newsletter at aaronerotica.com to get information on new releases. (I would never spam you or sell your info, just send you book news and goodies sometimes). 


Excerpt & Giveaway! Find Me. Remember Me. Keep Me. by Michelle Mankin




Almost forty-one-year-old Annabelle Morris, wife to multi-billionaire record label executive Charles Morris of Zenith Productions, and mother of two is at a crossroads in her life.

Separated from her husband after walking in on him having sex in the public restroom of a charity event she was hosting, she has arrived on the island of St. John alone and rejected, determined to re-evaluate her life and her marriage. She's tired of being her husband’s showpiece while he pretends she doesn't exist. She's tired of trying to make their marriage work for the sake of their two teenage boys. 

When she meets Johnny Lightning, a sexy but mysterious piano-playing, bearded sailor, she is tempted to break vows she has never before broken. But Johnny is much younger than her and seems to be hiding more than a few secrets of his own.

From the laid-back sandy beaches of the Caribbean to the elite circles of Dallas high society, Annabelle is forced to make critical choices.

Is a chance for happiness worth the risk of giving up the life she has always known?

Worth jeopardizing her own and possibly even her children's future?

In the end, will she stay on her present course or brave a new and uncharted one?

Find Me, Remember Me, and Keep Me is a full and complete novel in three separate parts. 

A standalone Tempest spin-off.


Find Me (Part One)

Remember Me (Part Two)

Keep Me (Part Three)




Are you Mrs. Morris?” The driver, a heavily bearded man wearing a Quiet Mon Pub ball cap, peered at me through his wraparound sunglasses. In his late twenties or early thirties, he looked much younger than I had imagined a caretaker to be.

I nodded and moved toward the jeep.

“You ready to go?” He dipped his shaded gaze slowly, sliding it over me. “Or do you need some more time at the jewelry store so you can find a more expensive watch with bigger diamonds?”

“No, I’m ready.” I frowned at the snide comment that implied I was as status conscious and shallow as all those social-climbers I had such contempt for. It was an unkind and unwarranted remark. He didn’t really know me. How could he presume to after only one glance? Then again, I looked at myself every day in the mirror and hardly knew who I was anymore.

“You’re late,” he complained. “You’re lucky I decided to swing back by the dock one more time, especially since the ferry’s been in for over a half hour. Still I wouldn’t have wanted to miss that fancy dress and the sun reflecting off that flashy watch of yours. Get in.” He gestured with his chin toward the passenger side. Moving my bag to one arm, I grabbed the handle and yanked, but the door wouldn’t open.

“Probably used to your chauffeur opening the door for you, huh?” He raised his bearded chin and lifted his shaded eyes to the heavens as if petitioning the island gods for patience. “It usually works better if you unlock it first, fancy face. The power feature is broken. You’ll have to do it manually.” His voice was a low baritone, but the insinuation was as unpleasant as his lack of manners.

I blew the humidity dampened curls out of my eyes and did as he suggested. “Why even bother to lock it?” I grumbled once I was in the seat, twisting around to grab the seatbelt.

“Because hardly anyone ever sits there,” he answered absently, glancing in the side mirror. He scanned a quick look for traffic and then pulled away from the curb.

I can certainly understand why, I thought sarcastically as I settled into my seat. He meticulously steered the vehicle around the busy shopping area alongside the dock, and I took advantage of his distraction to look him over. He wasn’t bad. Well, at least from what I could see of his face underneath his untrimmed beard, thick mustache, and long layers of unkempt midnight black hair barely contained by the ball cap. He reminded me of Pierce Brosnan. Pierce Brosnan as James Bond, to be more specific. Well, if I wanted to get really technical about it, Pierce Brosnan as James Bond in to Die Another Day after he had been captured and tortured for fourteen months by the North Koreans without the benefit of a hairstylist or a razor.

In other words…quite possibly hot.

Maybe.

But who could tell what was lurking under all that scrunge?

Maybe instead of Pierce Brosnan, the guy was actually Steve Buschemi. I chanced a second look to be sure…and felt a delicious, rippling heat along my spine.

Definitely not Steve Buschemi under there.




Michelle Mankin is the New York Times bestselling author of the Black Cat Records series of novels. Rock Stars. Romance. Redemption.

Love Evolution, Love Revolution, and Love Resolution are a BRUTAL STRENGTH centered trilogy, combining the plot underpinnings of Shakespeare with the drama, excitement, and indisputable sexiness of the rock 'n roll industry.

Things take a bit of an edgier, once upon a time turn with the TEMPEST series. These pierced, tatted, and troubled Seattle rockers are young and on the cusp of making it big, but with serious obstacles to overcome that may prevent them from ever getting there.

Rock stars, myths, and legends collide with paranormal romance in a totally mesmerizing way in the MAGIC series.

Catch the perfect wave with irresistible surfers in the ROCK STARS, SURF AND SECOND CHANCES series.

Romance and self-discovery, the FINDING ME series is a Tempest spin off with a more experienced but familiar cast of characters.


Excerpt & Giveaway! Kahayatle, Apocalypsis #1 by Elle Casey




NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR, ELLE CASEY, brings readers Book 1 of 4 in the YA Dystopian APOCALYPSIS Series, suitable for older teens and adults.

KAHAYATLE. My name’s Bryn Mathis. I’m seventeen years old, and I live in a neighborhood outside of Orlando, Florida. I live alone because my dad died almost a year ago, along with all the other adults in the world. I’m almost out of food and the gangs of kids that roam around my town are getting more vicious by the day. It’s time for me to leave and find another place to live … a place where I can find food and shelter … a place where they won’t be able to find me. Alone, it might have been possible, but now I’ve got company. I’m worried that I don’t have what it takes to get from here to my final destination, and I have no idea what might be waiting for me when I get there.

Content Warning: Mild violence and some foul language. Meant for older Young Adult readers (age 15+). This book is in the Dark Science Fiction / Horror / Post-Apocalyptic genres, featuring teen characters only.



I had eaten all the rations that were left in my house, except for five cans of baked beans and two bags of noodles. It’s all I’d been eating for a week, and if I had to have another bite of starch I was going to puke. I didn’t like the idea of going through my neighbors’ houses to find food, but the choice was being made for me now. I was desperate. 

Morning would be the best time for me to make my move. I’d heard the sounds of other people - teens like me - moving around in the daytime; but usually it was in the afternoon or at night. Groups of them had gotten together, looking for stuff in the houses that didn’t have kids in them. None of the houses had adults in them anymore. 

I needed to move without being seen. Leaving my house unprotected would be a very bad idea. I knew that these gangs were soon going to stop showing respect to the houses with kids in them like me. It was only a matter of time before the resources left in these neighborhoods dwindled down to an amount so small, it would no longer be enough to support the number of growling stomachs that roamed the streets; not without the hungry breaking into the occupied places too. 

I hadn’t heard them hit the house behind me yet, maybe because there was someone living there. I’d never met that neighbor, though, and had never seen any sign of a kid there. There were two other houses on my street that used to have kids my age in them, but they had left - I assume to join one of the roving gangs. I guess they figured they had better chances of surviving in a group. 

I didn’t feel that way at all. Before the world had gone into the crapper, I’d been pretty much a loner anyway. I liked my music and my books and didn’t bother with after-school clubs or hanging out at the local cafe. Besides, my dad had me in martial arts training every weekday and most weekends, practically my whole life; it didn’t leave much time for socializing. I’d only moved to this town six months before my dad was suddenly gone. He’d hoped to outrun the apocalypse, but it eventually caught up with him like it did anyone who wasn’t going through puberty.

The guys I trained with at various dojos over the years - I was always the only girl - were as serious as my dad about their skills. They lived for the feel of total control and absolute domination, in any situation. I appreciated the power, but it was never really my thing. I did it to make my dad happy. I’d advanced through the ranks, but didn’t get as far as he’d wanted me to. Now he wasn’t here to help me move forward, and I wished like hell I’d tried harder. For him and for me.

I decided to go to the house behind me to search for food. Maybe there was a kid there, maybe there wasn’t. It was worth checking out, at least. I could get there by climbing my backyard fence, and no one who might be out on the street would be able to see me. Up until now, no one had bothered to try and come into my house. I’d put a note on my door that said to stay the hell away and that I had a gun - which was the truth. But in doing that, I’d essentially become a sitting duck. Eventually, they would come for the things they hoped were in my house - food and fresh water. It was going to be time to leave soon. But until that day came, I needed something else to eat. My hunger was gnawing a hole in my stomach.

Two more hours and I’d go over the fence. My hand went nervously to the ring on a chain that hung at my neck - my dad’s old wedding ring that he’d given me just before he went away for good.



Elle Casey is a prolific, NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY bestselling American writer who lives in Southern France with her husband, three kids, and several furry friends. She writes in several genres and publishes an average of one full-length novel per month.



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.