June 29, 2015

Excerpt & Giveaway! Fearless, Fearless #1 by Annie Jocoby



BOOK ONE OF A PLANNED TRILOGY 

BOOK TWO, SECRETS AND LIES, IS AVAILABLE NOW! 


*Warning* Strong language and sexual situations. Ends in MAJOR cliffhanger. Not for the faint of heart. 

Beautiful heiress Dalilah Gallagher, a former child art prodigy, has lost her way. Harsh criticism in her formative years has left her floundering and without the artistic voice that once centered her life. Now, at the age of 20, she has spent the last nine years trying to reclaim what she lost. 

Her struggles lead her to the nude-modeling world in New York City, where she hopes she will find her passion for art again. What she finds is surprising: Her artistic voice isn’t gone, merely misplaced. 

Luke Roberts has a different problem. Raised by a solid, working-class fisherman in Maine, Luke is a gifted artist struggling to get a foothold in the busy New York City art scene. His gifts attract the attention of a wealthy benefactor, Blake Nottingham, who finds himself fascinated with Dalilah. Nottingham commissions Luke to provide him with a piece of art: A painting of Dalilah. 

As the two young artists fall in love, Dalilah finds her artistic voice once more, so she’ll do anything to help Luke find the prominence he deserves. This leads to a dangerous game of deceit that puts Dalilah in Nottingham’s clutches when she tries to manipulate him into helping Luke. 

Nottingham isn’t easily manipulated, though, and things go seriously awry for Dalilah. What happens when the manipulated becomes the manipulator? 

This is a New Adult Contemporary Romance. Age groups are 18+. It has some sexually explicit scenes. 




I felt excited as I realized that Dalilah was definitely feeling something for me. It was in her words and in her body language. She wanted me as much as I wanted her. That much was perfectly clear. 

But it just wasn’t as simple as all of that. I wished that it would be. But it wasn’t. I couldn’t give her what she needed. At that moment, I just wasn’t able to give any woman what she would need. I wasn’t established. Dalilah deserved somebody who could monetarily afford to treat her like the platinum that she was. Yeah, Nottingham was allegedly going to be giving me $5000, but the contract stipulated that it was to be paid after the project was over. I had just noticed that the other day when I was reading the fine print. So, in the meantime, I was broke. 

And Dalilah was like a bottle of Domaine de la Romanee-Conti Grand Cru, Cote de Nuits, which was recognized as the finest wine in the world. She was unique, rare and well out of my league. That I was increasingly feeling that I was falling for her, and I was feeling that more and more, every time I saw her, was a non-factor. I simply couldn’t have someone like her, and that was that. As frustrating as that was. 

I doodled on the napkin in front of me, and then, just like that, song lyrics started pouring out of my head. That wasn’t something that usually happened for me, because inspiration for my lyrics constantly eluded me. But being up there with Dalilah - feeling her warmth, seeing her extraordinary beauty, and sensing her even-more-extraordinary intelligence – somehow did inspire me as nothing else ever had. 

So, for the next hour, the lyrics poured out of me. What came out was a sappy love song like the kind that I used to make fun of when I heard it on the radio. With the exception of The Beatles Something of course – there was no arguing with that classic. But, usually, when I heard a love song, I rolled my eyes. Because there wasn’t such a thing as the kind of pure love that these songs conveyed.

Or so I thought. But I was increasingly seeing a glimpse, but just a glimpse, of what these songs were talking about when I looked into Dalilah’s eyes. 

I finally decided to walk to the subway station, which was a few blocks away from her apartment, around 3 AM. I did have a double-shift at the bar the next day, which was going to kill me, I knew. I was going to be dead-tired. And Dalilah would be coming to my studio at 8 AM, too. For that, I knew that I would be wide awake. 

I tried very hard to tamp down the feeling of absolute excitement that was bubbling up as I anticipated seeing her again in just a few more hours. For she was still untouchable to me in so many ways. I was amazed that I had the nerve to kiss her, but, then again, that was how I was feeling about her. I couldn’t not kiss her. I couldn’t not fantasize about making love to her. I had such an absolute passion for her that touching her and kissing her almost seemed like it was second nature to me. 

But my brain said that what had happened up there with her – the kisses – was going to be as far as it ever could go. She was my muse, of that I was sure. She inspired me to write a rather kick-ass love song, if I do say so myself, and she also inspired my art. I was finding myself increasingly incorporating her, in some way, in everything that I was composing, even if it was as an abstraction of some sort. Like I would be painting a picture of people in a cafĂ©, and there she was, popping up at one of the tables. Or I was doodling a sketch of a busy city street, and Dalilah was there in the crowd. 

And, of course, there was the portrait of Dalilah that I was creating for that wealthy bastard, a portrait that I was suddenly feeling proprietary over. Which was a dangerous way for me to feel, because I didn’t own this portrait. Nottingham did. I was just the instrumentality for getting the portrait done. Just the same, the entire project was turning into one that was a passion project for me, moreso than anything else had ever been. How I wished that I could keep it for myself after it was finished!

Yes, she was my muse. And she might always be, even in the near future when I would inevitably be forced to jettison my art and make it just a hobby, while I found a “real” job that would pay the bills. She was my muse, but she could never be my lover. I hated to think that I just wasn’t worthy of her, but that was what went through my head. 

I might have been falling in love with her, but I still couldn’t imagine being with her. 

Nonetheless, I looked forward to seeing her again with breathless anticipation. 



Annie Jocoby is the author of 8 contemporary romance novels and 3 New Adult contemporary romance novels. Her motivation to begin writing these novels is that she was interested in writing about rich men who actually love and respect their women. Her heroes are alpha and damaged, yet also genuinely good guys.

Ryan, Nick, Luke and Asher are all complicated characters who have experienced plenty of darkness, yet always seek the light. They would all go to the ends of the earth to protect the women they love. And they’re all sexy, enigmatic, magnetic and great in bed. 

All of Annie’s books have things in common: they all combine a touch of mystery and intrigue with drama, love, and lots of hot sex. Some of the books have action and even some criminal elements in them. Her current book, in fact, is her first book that would be classified as straight romantic suspense, although it also combines definite elements of the thriller genre! If you’re in the market for a book that is fast-paced, where the heroes are beautiful and wealthy, and the heroines are strong, vulnerable and flawed, then try these books out!




June 28, 2015

Excerpt & Giveaway! Ruins by T.H. Hernandez


Heartbroken, grief-stricken, and wracked with guilt, seventeen-year-old Evan Taylor returned to the Union, leaving behind the boy she loved.

Now, she and her friends must find a way to do the impossible – warn the citizens of the Union about an impending rebel attack without alerting the government and risking retaliation against her friends in the Ruins.

When every move Evan makes is thwarted, it soon becomes clear she's being watched. Faced with a daily fight to stay one step ahead of her pursuers, she returns to the Ruins. But life in the Ruins has its own dangers, and soon she’s fighting a different battle – to stay alive long enough to discover the truth.

THE RUINS is the second book in THE UNION series, a young adult romantic adventure set in the near future.


Bryce paces the room like a caged wildcat, mumbling to himself, while I sit on my bed, pulling at the threads of the blanket, watching him. He finally stops his manic laps around the tiny room and faces me, both of his hands flying to the top of his head.

“I’m worried about your uncle.”

“I thought you weren’t.”

“Benton’s up to something, I know it.”

I’ve never seen him like this and he’s sort of freaking me out. “Okay…” I push off the bed and walk over to him. “What besides him talking to kitchen staff makes you think that?”

“Earlier this year, when I was investigating him, he was into all kinds of shit.” He takes in a deep breath, his hands falling to his sides. “Small stuff that wasn’t as important as the weapons smuggling. But what your uncle said, about people being reassigned…What if your uncle’s a target? What if Benton’s planting people inside his administration?”

“Yeah, that thought occurred to me, too. But at least now my uncle has a heads-up.”

He shakes his head. “I need to follow up on this, Evan. I’ve got to find out what Benton’s up to.”

“Okay.” I grab my jacket off the back of the chair.

“No,” he says, putting his hands on my shoulders. “Too many people in this Borough know you.”

“I’m not letting you go alone, Bryce.”

“This is what I do, I’m a detective.” He shrugs into his coat and makes his way to the door. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Okay. But be careful.” He gives me a look like I’d told him not to eat food he found on the sidewalk. “I get you know what you’re doing, but people are trying to kill us.”

He walks back to me and pulls me into his arms. “I will.” He gives me a quick kiss and heads out the door.

After locking the door behind him, I flop on the bed and turn on the display wall. I flip through programs absently, my mind too wrapped up in what Bryce is doing and concern for my uncle to focus on anything else. Before long, this tiny excuse for a room, with its dank air and lack of sunlight, becomes even more cave-like until I feel as if the walls are collapsing around me.

I write Bryce a quick note, grab my jacket, and head outside to fresh air and open space. Dark gray clouds push in from the coast, threatening rain, and I tug my zipper up to my chin to ward off the wind gusting down the alley. A hot drink sounds perfect right about now. I make my way to the nearest cafe, pushing through the door, triggering a chime.

A middle-aged barista with dark hair and a nose ring glances up and smiles. “What can I get you?” she asks.

“Caramel latte, please.”

I take off my jacket, draping it across the back of a chair, and turn when the door chimes again. A couple enters, their cheeks and noses pink from the cold. The barista delivers my drink before going to take the couple’s order. I pull out my tablet and get engrossed in a thriller, losing track of time and place.

“Is someone sitting here?”

I glance up and see a boy about my age, indicating the chair across from me. “Oh, no. You can take it.”

Although based on the overwhelming lack of people here, I’m not sure why he doesn’t take a chair from an unoccupied table. Until he drops into the chair flashing a charming smile. He’s cute and he knows it.

“Hi, I’m Simon.” He thrusts his hand at me, his blue eyes alive with humor.

“Uh…hi.” I take his hand, it’s rough, calloused. “Delilah.”

“Do people call you Lila or Dee for short?”

“Nope, just Delilah.”

“Okay, De-li-lah.” He drags out my name, making it sound like musical notes. “What’re you reading?”

“Oh, umm…a book.” I turn off my tablet and study him. Something about him seems almost familiar, although I’m sure I’ve never met him. “Where are you from, Simon?”

“Here and there. A little bit of everywhere, I guess.”

I glance at his fingernails and they’re ragged and dirty. He pulls his hands back, shoving them under the table. Chewing on my bottom lip, I try to put the pieces into place. He hides it well, but I detected a slight slow drawl when he spoke. Simon is rugged and evasive. He’s from the Ruins.


When not visiting the imaginary worlds inside my head, I live in San Diego, California, with one husband, three children, two cats, and one dog. In addition to my day job as a technical writer and editor, I write young adult fiction. I love the intensity of teen emotions and the way they're still figuring out life. 


When I'm not writing, you can find me with my nose in a book, hanging out with family and friends, hiking, or knitting. I'm obsessed with Facebook, young adult novels, bad lip reading videos, pumpkin spice lattes, microbrewed beers, and the San Diego Chargers.






June 27, 2015

In The Spotlight! A New Dream by Alex C Clarke

Cover by Jay Aheer

After his wife Suzanne passed away in a car accident, David slowly retreated into depression. Three years later, he decides to leave France for Boston for a complete life makeover. He hangs up his lawyer three-piece suit to become a bar manager. On the plane, he meets James, co-owner of the bar.

James is a former Marine, a very gay one – tattooed, muscled, and yummy. The problem is, David would like to explore the feelings he has for his boss, but… James doesn’t do feelings. At all. Like, never.

Well, never say never…

David was now standing bare-naked before the bed, his manhood rising slowly as he observed the man lying down. He reached out for the long and delicate, white ostrich feather as he sat down on the bed in the crook between James’ arm and his chest. He lifted the feather and passed it over James’ upper body, from his shoulder to his navel and back to his nipples, painting him with invisible decorations. James’ respiration became erratic and he arched his back, as David traced arabesques with the diaphanous item. He skimmed James’ square face, strong but elegant and…unguarded. He trailed it along a cheekbone, his jaw, down his neck and continued to a collarbone…David traced the contours of James’ body. He was trying to learn his geography, the slightest mount, the faintest vale, each canal and canyon. He wanted his fingers to remember the gorgeous body of his lover, so he could recall it in his sleep.

The Feather helped him to achieve his goal. She was giving him the ability to embed the moment in his mind. He moved down to his torso, then his stomach…Oh mon Dieu, those muscles… He was never one to notice hunks or overly muscled women on the beach or on the street. James wasn’t exceedingly muscular, but more in extreme good shape.

The Feather hesitated and finally followed the treasure trail of thin reddish-blond hair on James’ firm stomach. David could see James’ jaw twitching rhythmically, as his fists clenched and unclenched on the now crumpled sheets. The Feather had taken the power from David. From now on, she would decide by herself which path to take. She lifted the bedclothes to uncover his cut manliness. It was standing to attention proudly, in a bush of frizzy dark red-blond hair, slicked with precum and begging to be touched, to be relieved. In a graceful movement, David cast the bed linen aside and revealed the entire nudity of his lover, the cold air provoking goose bumps on James’ hot body. David got out of breath at the mere sight and he took the time to observe in silent awe.

The Feather resumed her path, testing James’ patience. She brushed the length of his cock, increasing its throbbing ever more as it tried to catch the attention of the Temptress. She went down his full balls, as tense as the rest of his body. For a moment she thought about increasing her sensual torture and carry down his legs but she decided to let the boys play. Landing elegantly next to James’ body, she watched them for a moment. She observed how David leaned over to catch James’ impatient lips. She saw how James managed, with great self-control, to keep his arms stretched out. She gazed on as David caught James’ fist in his right hand, slowly forcing him to open it, finger by finger. She noticed how his soft lips covered James’ congested face. It was hard for him, the Feather could see, to restrain himself, to give his man all this power over himself. He looked like he was about to drown in desire. When would David finally decide to cover his lover’s greedy body? As he eventually did, the Feather turned her attention to the blanket and fell gracefully off the bed. Doing so, she was granting them all the privacy they needed. The last peek she took was as David lied down on top of James and decided to use his hands and mouth to discover his lover’s body. The feral look on David’s face made the Feather shudder. She closed her consciousness to the events that followed, returning forever to her previous state of inanimate object.



I’m a translator and writer of M/M romance. I’m 32 and have a quirky sense of humor that shows in my writing. I love cats, nature, my kids (and my hubs ;) ), my fabulous friends, in RL and on Facebook, love stories, happy endings and so much more. I support LGBT rights as much as I can. My stories are made for entertainment but also to say that gay love stories are not only made of wild hot sex (well, that too but…) but also of love, tenderness, acceptance, struggles and fights. They’re not any less love stories than M/F ones.


June 26, 2015

In the Spotlight- Excerpt & Giveaway! Shattered by You, Tear Asunder #3 by Nashoda Rose


What started out as a deal quickly became a friendship that conquered monsters.

I killed, but I escaped hell.

Emotionless. Disconnected. Cold. A mannequin. It’s what I’d become in order to survive the years held in captivity. I was able to endure the abuse and devastating loss as long as I remained detached.

But he wouldn't let me.

Crisis, the bass guitarist in my brother’s rock band, Tear Asunder. He’s cocky, rude, a total man-whore. But the rock star has far more beneath the surface of his inked skin, and he’s determined to make me laugh again.

He made me a "deal", but really, it was blackmail.

His terms were simple. Until his playful honesty became the building blocks to something unexpected. Something strong enough to pull me from the eye of the storm. 

Because even though I escaped years of abuse, it didn’t mean I was free.




I woke up to my phone buzzing on the nightstand. I rolled over and put the pillow over my head. My leg muscles ached from my run last night, having pushed myself farther and longer than usual. The wind had been strong, trying to unhinge me with each step. I refused to give in. I’d win this fight. I’d kill the monsters. I’d watch them bleed until they no longer lived inside me.

But they did. My last few episodes proved that.
Buzz.
I sighed and tossed the pillow aside.
“Pick up your phone,” Crisis called through the door.
Oh, my God. “What are you doing outside my door?”
“Pick up your phone and find out.” I heard a thump on my door.
I reached over and snagged my phone.
Move it, Ice. We’re taking out the big tractor.
I scrolled.
Don’t ignore me, baby.
Third text.
I made coffee.
Fourth.
Okay, maybe not yet, but I will.
Fifth.
I’ll just sit outside your door until you get your ass out here.
I glanced at the time on the screen. Nine. “It’s Sunday. I’m going back to sleep,” I called, then tossed my phone aside and rolled over, tucking the sheet under my chin.
The door burst open and quickly shut again. Crisis leaned against it, his lips pushed together with that familiar crease between his eyes. “Our brother is a fuckin’ Terminator. I swear he has radar in his head that goes off every time I talk to you.”
My eyes narrowed in on him; he was so full of crap. “Crisis. Get out.” My brother wasn’t—
A light knock sounded on the door. “Sis?”
Shit. I sat up, making certain to keep the sheets covering me because I was wearing a pink silk negligee with skimpy spaghetti straps and it barely covered my breasts. Kat had bought it for me when I first came to live with them, along with a drawer full of panties and bras. She said, ‘every girl deserved to have beautiful negligee next to her skin.’ At first, I balked, internally of course, wanting nothing to do with anything sexy. But after a few months feeling the soft silky material on my hands as I pushed them aside in my drawer . . . I tried one of them on.
I’d never had anything but cheap clothes, and the negligee felt nice against my skin. It made me feel . . . good about myself.
Crisis crossed his arms and I couldn’t stop from glancing at his tatted biceps. Then my gaze trailed down his hard muscled body to strong thighs clothed in worn jeans hanging low on his hips.
God, where was my head? It was too early in the morning and I was wavering under the sweet clenching between my legs and the whirl in my belly. He was a rock star, a hot rock star who was always on social media. Triple hard limit.
“Haven? I just saw your door close.”
I cleared my throat and gestured to Crisis to get away from the door before my brother barged in, saw him and jumped to conclusions. He pushed away and came straight for me, his eyes sparking a mischievous glow.
My brother knocked again. “We’re going to brunch today at Georgie and Deck’s. I’d really like you to come.”
Fine. Crisis wanted to play . . . he froze halfway toward the bed when I raised my brows and smiled. He shook his head back and forth and mouthed, “Don’t do it.”
“Yeah, come in,” I yelled.
Crisis dove for the bed, threw the duvet up in the air and landed flat on his stomach, the cover settling over him just as Ream strode in. I lay frozen beneath the covers, my heart racing, and a whoosh of blood charging through my veins. My breath hitched as warm heated air brushed across my bare thigh and goose bumps popped up along my skin.







Nashoda Rose is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who lives in Toronto with her assortment of pets. She writes contemporary romance with a splash of darkness, or maybe it’s a tidal wave.

When she isn't writing, she can be found sitting in a field reading with her dogs at her side while her horses graze nearby. She loves interacting with her readers and chatting about her addiction—books.






Book Promo: Excerpt & Giveaway!! The Darkest Frost, Vol. 1 by Tanya Homes


When the ghost of her best friend begs for her help, psychic detective Denieve Knight goes undercover as a live-in domestic to catch a killer. She sets her sights on the most likely suspect: her friend’s mysterious employer, Doctor Braeden Frost.

Dubbed "Dr. Death" by the press, the notorious hematologist is linked to nineteen other suspicious fatalities—all are former patients. The brooding recluse is a man of many secrets, the darkest of which may be lurking beneath the leather gloves he never removes.




An officer wearing a black slicker leaned out to buzz the front gate as rain fell in blinding waves. I shot Frost a panicked glance. “I swear I only called for an ambulance.” “Dearborne PD,” a voice boomed over the intercom. “Open up.” Frost hung his head. A wry smile curved his lips. “Officer Osborn. What an unpleasant surprise.” “You know him?” “Indeed.” Resolve hardened his face. He snagged a remote from one of the tables, pointed the thing toward a console on the opposite wall. A buzzer sounded and the outside gate slid open. “I’ll handle this.” “But you’re not—” “Change your robe,” he said. “You’re covered in blood.” Frost chucked the remote aside and stepped into a walk-in closet. Moments later, he emerged shoving his arms into a sleek black trench coat. He started for the hallway and had almost disappeared entirely, but he paused. Only his gloved hand—the one gripping the wall’s edge was visible. He leaned over so his head and shoulders were peeking from behind the wall, and shot one last meaningful look in my direction. The mysterious apology again. Then he came back over to me, and gently framed my face with both gloved hands. His pleading eyes were warm and hypnotically blue as his thumb stroked my cheeks. “You will stay, Miss Reed.” Who could think when he had me on smolder? “I…ah…” “Promise me.” Damn it. “Um, okay.” Triumph radiated on his face once he stepped away and disappeared down the hallway. I started wearing the carpet out the moment he hit the stairs and the more I paced, the louder my conscience screamed. No question about it. I was going straight to hell.




1) That’s Enough For Me by Paul Williams 

2) A Mariage D’amour Richard Clayderman 

3) GymnopĂ©dies by Satie 

4) Mozart Fantasy in D minor 

5) Dream On by Aerosmith 

6) Patience by Guns N Roses 

7) Con te Partiro by Andrea Bocelli 





Amazon Bestselling Author Tanya Holmes is a Golden Leaf double-finalist, a Romance Writers of America Golden Heart finalist, a recipient of the Maggie Award, the MICA Award, as well as Overall Winner of the Sandy Haddad Award and a two-time finalist and one-time winner of The Emily (Best of the Best). She's happily married with children and loves reading, writing and a good cup of coffee---but not necessarily in that order. She has two novels coming out in 2015: The Darkest Frost, a two-part Gothic paranormal serial romance with a twist, and in 2016, Temptation's Edge, a contemporary romance.  



Book Blast: Excerpt & Giveaway!! Helping Hand by Jay Northcote


Wanking with a mate isn’t gay—as long as you keep your hands to yourself.

Jez Fielding and James MacKenzie—Big Mac to his mates—are in their second year at uni. After partying too hard last year, they make a pact to rein themselves in. While their housemates are out drinking every weekend, Jez and Mac stay in to save cash and focus on their studies. 

When Jez suggests watching some porn together, he isn’t expecting Mac to agree to it. One thing leads to another, and soon their arrangement becomes hands-on rather than hands-off. But falling for your straight friend can only end badly, unless there’s a chance he might feel the same. 


Afterwards, Jez blamed the alcohol for loosening his tongue, because he didn’t think about it before he spoke. The words tumbled out before he could stop them.

“Man, I’m seriously horny now. Have you got any decent porn on that laptop?”

“Huh?” Mac snapped his head around to meet Jez’s gaze. Jez’s heart pounded erratically, but his dick was still standing to attention. “What… you mean, you want to wank in here? Now? Wouldn’t that be weird?” Mac sounded seriously freaked out. 

Jez backtracked quickly, cheeks hot. “It doesn’t have to be weird. I’ve done it before with guys at school, and it’s never been a big deal. But don’t worry about it. I’ll go and watch my own stash instead. But I need something soon, ’cause I’m gonna explode after watching that sex scene.” 

Jez was expecting an instant no from Mac. He wouldn’t have blamed him. A lot of guys wouldn’t be into what Jez was suggesting. Jez’s heart still thumped hard, but his arousal didn’t abate despite his anxiety. He was shocked by how much he wanted this. 

Mac bit his lip and frowned. “Seriously. You’ve done that?” 

Jez shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “Yeah. Like I said, it was no big deal. Just guys messing around.” 

Mac stared a moment longer, then he stood, and Jez’s heart sank as he walked away. But Mac only went to fetch his laptop from the dining table. He sat back down and then opened it and tapped in his password. 

“What sort of stuff do you wanna watch?” Mac’s voice was gruff and he focused on the screen rather than Jez. 

Fuck. They were really going to do this, then. 


Jay lives just outside Bristol in the West of England, with her husband, two children, and two cats.



She comes from a family of writers, but she always used to believe that the gene for fiction writing had passed her by. She spent years only ever writing emails, articles, or website content. One day, she decided to try and write a short story–just to see if she could–and found it rather addictive. She hasn’t stopped writing since. 






June 25, 2015

Review & Giveaway! Silver Scars by Posy Roberts


You need people to love you, especially when you shove them away.


A bomb destroyed high-powered lawyer Gil Lemieux’s seemingly perfect life, and PTSD has ruled every decision since the explosion that left him scarred inside and outside. Moving home with his mom is meant to be a temporary measure, just like proofreading for a medical editorial firm is meant to be a stopgap. But two years after taking on the wrong court case, he’s still living in fear.

Keith Kramer might be based 1,500 miles away from Gil, but their shared work brings them together—a chance meeting that’s life-changing. Gil is drawn to Keith’s good looks and intelligence, but it’s his innate understanding that Gil is more than the scars on his skin that is truly attractive. He’s everything Gil used to be and more. It blows Gil’s mind that his attraction might be returned.

Only doubt could widen the distance between them. Keith’s hopefulness, borne out of surviving some tough challenges of his own, isn’t enough to bridge the distance alone. Gil will need to believe he has as much to offer as Keith if they’re to build a life together.



Wow. This book is an emotional rollercoaster. For the characters, but for me as well.

Gil has been a lawyer, a successful one, until an explosion took everything from him: his job, his financial security, his friends, his confidence leaving him an emotional mess, unable to function because of his severe PTSD.

Whomever meets Keith for the first time can never guess that behind his good looks and cheerful demeanor he hides a lot of pain, both physical and emotional. 

Two scarred, scared men create a bond that helps them overcome the dark moments when giving up seems like the best solution.

This is not your usual romantic story. It goes way beyond that. 

The love that binds Gil and Keith it’s obvious. They are good together and good for each other but the past and their conditions, sometimes make it hard for them to really let go and trust each other.

There’s always a sliver of doubt in their mind that, one day, the burden might become too much to handle and that love won’t be enough.

Those insecurities, though, are perfectly understandable and, if in other circumstances it might have annoyed me to see the characters constantly doubt every single thing or action, in this case, they only made me love both men even more.

They struggle. Each and every day is a constant uphill battle but they don’t give up.

There’s anger, despair, sadness and tears but, deep down, there’s always hope.

A perfect example of the fact that love goes beyond physical appearance and social status. When there’s true affection, mutual respect and understanding, nothing will ever be too hard.

I don’t know if I’m the only one who felt like this but, all the time while reading, I had the impression I was there, in the book, living it all alongside Gil and Keith.

They felt so real, their story felt real and I’m sure that, for someone out there, this is not a story at all.

It was my first Posy Roberts book but it won’t be my last. The writing style was really good even if a little bit more attention to details was needed.

All I can say is “wow”. This novel is absolutely worth reading and I highly recommend it. I was sorry it was over because I wasn’t ready to let them go yet.

Did you ever find a book that made you completely lose contact with reality? This is what Silver Scars did to me. I had a hard time disconnecting and I didn’t quite manage that because I keep thinking about it every now and then. Another one to add to my re-read list. 

I’m so glad I gave it a chance.

Happy Reading!!



Posy Roberts writes about romantic male love. Whether these characters are family men, drag queens, or lonely men searching for connections, they all find a home in her stories.

Posy is married to a man who makes sure she doesn’t forget to eat or sleep; her daughter, a budding author and dedicated Whovian, helps her come up with character names. When Posy’s not writing, she enjoys crafting, hiking, and singing spontaneously about the mundane, just to make normal seem more interesting.