March 4, 2016

Excerpt & Giveaway! Bodyguard to a Sex God, Bodyguards Inc. #1 by R.J. Scott

A pretty-boy actor, an ex-cop bodyguard, and a stalker intent on murder.

Bodyguard Adam Freeman draws what everyone else thinks is the short straw at the convention for a procedural cop show - as bodyguard to TV actor Logan Brady. Or as the Internet has labelled him, Logan 'Sex God' Brady. 

Logan is taking part in a convention at a London Hotel for his show 'Night Cop' and someone is threatening his life. 

Adam gets more than he bargained for when his client combines coming out of the closet with them both trying to stay alive.

"....Body Guard to a Sex God by Rj. Scott is crazy good. Not only are the main characters strongly written, so are the sub characters. The writing makes it very easy for the readers to feel what the characters are feeling. This is a fun whodunit lite read that will keep you guessing until the very end. Just when you figure it out, the game changes...."




“You know why having a bodyguard is a bad thing, Jimmy.” Logan slumped back into the corner of the SUV seat and closed his eyes. How had it come to this? The letters had started out like a million others he received. Simple and to the point, they declared love and forever and very often included lace panties or some other random piece of clothing. He’d had wedding invites sent to him with his n 76yame next to the applicable girl or boy; hell, he’d had notes claiming babies as his. Nothing quite as disturbing as these letters, but then again, this person sending them was probably a mental patient or something. Mostly harmless. That was what he had to think otherwise he’d be jumping at his own shadow.

“Bodyguards Inc. is the best, Logan, and they are very discreet. I’m forwarding the mail to you with the details for the guy who is looking after you. He’s the most suitable they have for you apparently. He’s done a lot of these celebrity gigs. You have to know I’m paying a lot of money for the best.”

“You’re paying? Don’t you mean I’m paying?” Logan snapped. He immediately regretted the tone in his voice. Unlike a lot of industry agents, Jimmy was a good guy. “Sorry. I’m on edge.” Jimmy chose to ignore the quick outburst; he was good at doing that.

“BI has a fine reputation. I know a guy who knows the brother of a cousin to the man who runs it.”

Logan had to laugh. Jimmy knew everyone in one huge network of people. Locating a bodyguard agency via a friend of a brother of a second cousin twice-removed wouldn’t be a shock for a resourceful man like Jimmy.

“Anyway,” Jimmy continued, “we also have the new bodyguard that will be in place soon after you get back from the UK. Your English guy will be coming to the States with you to do what they call a handover. I’m guessing they’ll exchange notes.”

“Why can’t the US bodyguard start now and just go with me?”

“He’s not contracted until the first of the month, and the network wants you to have someone with local knowledge when you’re in England. This BI company will be more than suitable. And don’t forget you have Mike looking out for you up until then.”

“Great.” Logan felt tired and just this close to cancelling the UK trip. If it wasn’t for the fans he would be letting down then he may well have done so by now.

“Stacia wants to go with you. She’ll back you up. It won’t be any different than any other trip for the show. Just play the happy boyfriend and let her do her thing, and let the bodyguard do his as well.”

“I’m not taking Stacia. I won’t put her in any kind of danger.” As it was he had already begged off a dozen or so joint invites and begun to create a little media space between him and Stacia. She would stay safe that way.

“I don’t think the decision will be yours to make if she gets her way,” Jimmy pointed out.

“We were talking…” Logan wasn’t sure how to word this. “Stacia and I that is. She said Bryan isn’t doing so well with this whole her-pretending-to-be-my-girlfriend thing. Says it’s holding her back and that he loves her. Hell, he as good as proposed last weekend. Time has come to end this with her.” Bryan was a good guy, an cop who adored Stacia. He’d been damn patient for the last six months since he and Stacia had met. They had to keep their relationship a secret just so Stacia could keep making people believe she was with Logan.

Jimmy sighed. “I know that. She called me as soon as he asked her. She’ll cover you in London, but post-convention we probably need to find someone else. Talk to her, Logan, find out how she wants to deal with it. A discrete breakup with you in stages that we can filter to the internet should take care of it.”

Anxiety twisted inside Logan at the coming change in his ordered life. Stacia had been his wingman for three years now. The blonde beauty was the perfect foil for him and provided that brick wall between what he was and what he let people see. They’d met through the show. Night Cop had just entered its second season and she was brought on as a series baddie for a few episodes. She was a close friend, knew all his secrets. And he was a bankable commodity; her career had gone from strength to strength since they’d ‘gotten together’. She’d just landed a recurring role on a new comedy. Had to be a good thing for her; she deserved a good career and a man who loved her.

“Matt doesn’t have to hide,” Logan said. He couldn’t stop the sadness in his tone. He wanted what actors like Matt Bomer had. A partner he could really love, kids maybe someday, but still able to do what he loved—act. Finding another woman to be his plus one in order to keep his cover to the public at large was getting to be too much and he hated the lies.

“Then you need to make a choice,” Jimmy said patiently. Logan could probably quote word for word what his agent and closest friend was going to say. “Your decision is easy. Be honest with yourself and with everyone else, then deal with whatever happens next. You know whatever you decide, there will always be work for you and I will have your back in anything you choose to do.”

“I know you will, J, and I love you for it, man. It’s just… I’m coming up on thirty and I don’t have a clue what kind of roles will be out there for me as I age, let alone if I came out of the closet. I’m not sure I’d still get work as the ‘Sex God’ the tabloids keep labeling me as.”

“You don’t need the money,” Jimmy pointed out. “You could do what you want to do, go into directing, go back to school. Hell, Lo, you’ve been acting since you were fourteen, in public and in private. Aren’t you ready to be yourself now?”

“It’s not that easy. I can’t just decide to come out as gay.”

“You can. It’s very easy.”

“What are you saying, Jimmy? That I should make a different decision? I’ve been pretending for so long and hiding… and hell, what about Stacia? She’ll be embarrassed, humiliated.”

Jimmy chuckled. “This is Stacia we are talking about. She’s got balls of steel and she just wants you happy. We can manage this in a million ways. Call you bisexual, use the morals get-out clause in your contract. You can take some time off, decide what you really want now. And, Lo, remember…”

“What?”

“Thirty is a good age to change your life.”

Logan ended the call and he switched to his email. The mail from Jimmy with details of the bodyguard company was at the top of the list and he clicked on the link to view the attached photo. His eyes widened when he saw the cute blond in the photo. Well. Cute might just be the wrong word. The man was looking stern, there was no smile, and Logan couldn’t see the color of the man’s eyes or anything. But hell, the body and face were fine.

At least his bodyguard would provide him with some male eye candy to stare at when he was surrounded by a million and one screaming fangirls. The document described Logan as thirty-one, blond, brown eyes, five-ten, ex-cop, specialist in hand-to-hand combat. Brown eyes, eh? Logan loved brown eyes. And hell, with this guy he wouldn’t mind a little hand-to-hand combat either.

They arrived at the studio. The blacked-out windows combined with utilizing the lesser-known back entrance to the studio meant he wasn’t spotted. He loved his fans; without them he wouldn’t be where he was, and he doubted Night Cop would have been renewed past season one. Now on season five, he really considered himself fortunate for the show to have such a loyal fanbase. It was only… some of the fans were really intense and despite being six foot and more than capable of running quite fast, he wasn’t beyond being scared when large groups of screaming girls—and boys—got up in his space.

“Okay back there, Logan?”

Logan nodded to his driver. Mike was one of the only people outside Jimmy who knew the real Logan, and sitting in the back with scripts on the long drive from home to here had meant several long conversations with the burly driver. Jimmy had handpicked Mike and normally Mike would have gone to the UK with him, but his daughter was having a baby. There was no way Logan was taking the experience of being here for his daughter away from Mike. She was already six days late and the hospital wouldn’t let it go much further. If only she’d had it on time Mike would be going with him, could be the brick wall between him and the fans. But on the other hand, Mike wasn’t a trained bodyguard, he was just a big guy with a soft heart.

“Just organizing the trip to London,” he answered and waved his phone in front of him. Mike nodded in the mirror. The SUV pulled in beside a whole row of similar vehicles, and turning the engine off, the driver turned in his seat.

“Did Jimmy find someone good?” Mike looked concerned.

Logan recalled Adam Freeman’s details. Not the fact he was five ten with brown eyes and blond hair but the stuff Mike would want to know, the fact the guy was qualified to look after him.

“Adam Freeman, British and a former cop, came over from some kind of special department out of London, counterterrorism or something. He’s a specialist in hand-to-hand combat and is good at his job apparently.”

“An English Jack Bauer.” Mike smirked.

For a second a flash of his frequently used Jack Bauer fantasy slid into Logan’s thoughts, but he ruthlessly pushed it to one side. “I wish.”

They exchanged smiles. They’d done the whole ‘I wish I was going, sorry to let you down’ chat and they didn’t need to say anything else. Logan climbed down from the SUV.

“Later,” he said. Mike sketched a wave goodbye and left to park. Logan strolled through the maze of small buildings and onto lot five, exchanging hellos with anyone he crossed paths with. The LA sun was starting to heat the air and he shrugged off his jacket. Today was the final day of shooting episode ten and it was outside work right on into the night. That was what he needed, hard, physical fight scenes in the dark with fake rain. Hell, at least it would make him forget the letters and the fact that Jimmy was right. He had a meeting with the network in a couple of weeks and he needed to take that time to consider his entire future. He owed it to himself, he owed it to Stacia, and he owed it to the show.

Jimmy would back whatever he decided. This kind of support was invaluable to have from your agent. If Logan came out as gay or bi or whatever Jimmy spun for him, then he could at least stop lying. He’d need to handle it carefully. Stacia could be part of the fallout through no fault of her own and he didn’t want her to be laughed at in any way.

“Logan, makeup now; I have you with Teresa in twenty.” A harassed assistant scurried over with a clipboard in hand. “We need the post-fight scars and the tattoos and we need it for ten.”

And so it started.




RJ Scott has been writing since age six when she was made to stay in at lunchtime for an infraction involving cookies and was told to write a story. Two sides of A4 about a trapped princess later, a lover of writing was born. She reads anything from thrillers to sci-fi to horror; however, her first real love will always be the world of romance. From billionaires, bodyguards and cowboys to SEALs, throwaways and veterinarians, she writes passionate stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and more than a hint of happily ever after.



 



March 3, 2016

Excerpt & Giveaway! Snowed In, An MM Anthology


Snowed In is a wintery blend of frost, snow, and romance from eight of Torquere Press’ M/M authors.

Winter storms are dangerous, and in Celibate Cold by Lynn Townsend, Topher finds himself stranded in one when his car slides into a ditch. Alone and scared, he tries to walk home in the blizzard but ends up at Chase’s house, desperately in need of help.

Can an accident on Luke and Tom’s annual hike lead to them becoming more than good friends? Find out in Jessica Chase’s Falling for Love!

In This Winter’s Night by Kassandra Lea, Barry is devastated when he realizes he spends more time talking to his horses than his boyfriend—but that’s about change.

These snow angels have a devilish side! Huey and Tommy think their neighbor Marshall would be a naughty, fun addition to their snow day in Snow Angels by Leigh Ellwood.

In Snow Job by Logan Zachary, winter doesn’t always come with a chill—sometimes it’s smokin’ hot! For Lance and Leo, snowbound and icicles are about to take on whole new meanings.

Beau and Leon are two strangers on a chairlift. When Leon—the “experienced” skier—laughs at himself, Beau looks at him in a whole new light in Taking the Fall Line by Tray Ellis.

In Snowy Reunion by Emjay Haze, Steven wonders if he even has a boyfriend since Jonathan walked out after their last argument. But Jonathan surprises Steven during a ski trip and it just might save their relationship.

Seeking the elusive Yeti is Joel’s passion, but he finds more than he bargained for in Adventures of a Yeti Hunter by L.J. Hamlin.




Celibate Cold by Lynn Townsend

Chase squinted. Of course it wasn’t a yeti, he thought. But the creature who was stumbling in his direction was covered in snow from the thighs down and his coat was thick with ice crystals. He had a hat crammed low down over his ears, but no gloves, and his sleeves were crusted with more snow. He’d probably fallen a few times, to judge by the smears of white down his front.

By the time Chase had identified the intruder as being nothing more than a man, his visitor was nearly to the porch. The man’s teeth were chattering so hard that he couldn’t seem to force intelligible words out. Chase caught a few mumbled syllables.

“Well, you look like three miles of bad road,” Chase said. He helped the man up the stairs and then impartially started brushing snow off his back, not really paying attention to where his hands were until the man startled when Chase’s hands came down on his ass, smacking snow away.

The stranger whirled, his brown eyes wide.

Chase held his hands out to his sides, harmless. “No point in trackin’ that all in m’house, man, and you look a bit chilled to do it yourself.”

The man nodded, stomped off his feet as best he could, which wasn’t very well. Chase sighed. The guy was wearing fucking Oxfords, for Christ’s sweet sake. He’d be lucky if he had any toes left at all. Fool.

“Sex,” the man said.

“What?” Chase had to have misheard that. He stuck a finger—snow covered, and cold—into his ear as if to clear it out. Or wind up his brain. “What did you say?”

“Six. Six miles of bad road.”


Publisher of GLBT fiction books http://www.torquerepress.com to offer the finest in erotic LGBT romance available.


Excerpt & Giveaway! With the Band by Natasha Preston



Texas Knight is daughter of the word’s biggest rock star, Mark Knight.

Kitt Daniels is lead singer in the hottest up-and-coming band, Filthy Sound.

Mark has mentored Filthy Sound from the beginning, seeing their potential, and now he’s supporting them on their first worldwide tour.

She’s off-limits.

He can’t help himself.




Texas terrifies me because she makes me want everything right now. Marriage, house, kids—I’d do it now. Logically, I know better. We’re in the early stages of our relationship, and I have a ton going on, things I can’t bail on and don’t want to.

Doing anything other than singing in this band isn’t an option for me, and Filthy Sound still needs a fuckload of my time and attention. 

Somehow, I have to find a way to somewhat equally balance the two most important things in my life. 

“Thanks, Hank,” I say as he finishes up straightening one of the large black curtains. With them all around the living room, it looks like night in here, and the hundreds of fairy lights are like stars.

“Have a good night.” He gives me a wink and then leaves. 

I don’t know how he managed to pull it off, but it looks awesome.

My palms start to dampen. I’m fucking nervous. She’d better like this.

When did I become love’s bitch?

I wipe my hands on my jeans as someone knocks on the door.

I feel like I need a minute.

There’s another knock, and I know for sure it’s Texas. No one else is that impatient. 

“Hey.” She smiles as I open up. Her eyes go wide when she looks inside. “Kitt…”

“Come in,” I say. 

She doesn’t move, so I take her hand and tug her inside. 

“I’ve never seen you speechless, Tex. It’s unnerving and, if I’m honest, something I thought was an impossibility.”

Tilting her head, she gives me a look, and then she’s back to being stunned. “I can’t believe you did this. I mean, Kitt Daniels can be romantic. Who knew?”

I certainly fucking didn’t. 

“Do you like it?” I ask, rubbing circles on the back of her hand.

She takes the whole room in—the curtains that look like a starry night, the table laid out, the food and the wine waiting. “Kitt…I love it.”



UK native Natasha Preston grew up in small villages and towns. She discovered her love of writing when she stumbled across an amateur writing site and uploaded her first story and hasn’t looked back since.

She enjoys writing contemporary romance, gritty Young Adult thrillers and, of course, the occasional serial killer.


March 2, 2016

Excerpt & Giveaway! Burning Love, Trevor's Harem #3 by Aubrey Parker


I’ve been in this billionaire’s game for a month — but something changed when half my competition was eliminated.

​It feels less like a contest now … and more like an experiment.

​I shouldn’t have made it past the first round. I don’t know how I did; I’m not special like the others. When I ask Daniel, he just tells me it’s complicated. Then he talks about brain chemistry, how love and sex are an addiction. He tells me how wild animals claim mates, and how he’s claimed me.

The stakes are higher.

The competition is fiercer.

I should have been kicked out long ago, but Daniel tells me I might be the needle in the haystack the company has been looking for.

Sometimes I’m afraid of them all, even of Daniel.

But It’s like I’m on a tether. I couldn’t leave if I wanted to.




“Kneel.” 

His hands go to his black leather belt, and he slowly unfastens it, watching me comply. The ground is bare concrete, and I can feel minuscule grit pressing into my knees. I’m wearing sandals. When the bands start cutting into my ankles as I kneel, I reach back and slip them off, too. 

I feel so strange, on my knees in this room, naked save a pair of plain cotton panties. I’d swear he should be able to see my racing heart, in the swells of my naked breasts. The air is cool, and gooseflesh prickles me. But of all the sensations, the fullness in my sopping panties is most present. Of all my urges, the one to slip my hand inside them and caress my clit is hardest to resist. 

I watch his pants unzip. I watch his cock come out, already full and heavy and stiff. 

He closes the distance between us. He reaches down to take my chin in one hand, and I look up a little when he does. My jaw opens, and he enters me. His hardness fills my mouth, weighing on my tongue.

“Make me come,” he growls. 

I wrap my hand around his root, my lips surrounding his hot shaft and head. I roll my eyes to look up at him, and he’s still boring into me with that almost-sinister gaze. His hand moves around to the back of my head, gathering my loose hair into a ponytail. I can feel the tension in his arm and fist. I know he wants to pull me roughly forward and make me choke. So I move first, sucking his cock, rolling my hand around it below my lips in big, wet, saliva-slicked circles. 

“Touch yourself, Bridget,” he commands.

So I put my hand inside my panties, relieved that I’ve finally been given permission. My own touch is electric, so relieving. I almost come on the spot. 

“Not like that. I want to see your fingers on your pussy.” 

His words are too much. So is his cock in my mouth. I picture him coming, filling my throat. And in that moment, I lose control, all at once, with almost no warning. I let it happen with his shaft in my mouth, bucking with the waves, my eyes closing, feeling my pulsing body move on him, making him fuck my mouth.

When I look up, he shakes his head as if disgusted. But he can’t stop his hips from moving, and I can tell any control he feigns is a farce. He’s moving himself in and out, begging for my grip, for my suction. His hand on the back of my head presses harder. I feel his tip balloon between my lips — one pulse, like a hard throb. 

“Do it again,” he says. “Do it right.” 

Careful to keep his cock in my mouth, I kneel high enough to pull my panties down. I spread my knees as far as my lowered panties allow and touch my pussy, spreading it for him. My fingers move. Diving in a little, missing my vibrator, which can hit my G-spot. I focus on my clit, which has barely refracted and is begging for another orgasm. It hits as Daniel unloads in my mouth, surprising me and leaving me fighting to swallow in the grips of my tremors.

I take what I can, but some dribbles out. I meet his eyes as I lick the rest off, seeing how it makes him thrust anew, as if meaning to come again. 

“Stand up and bend over,” he says. 

“I thought men couldn’t come again that fast,” I say, finally finding my voice as I obey. 

“With you,” he says, “I can.”






I love to write stories with characters that feel real enough to friend on Facebook, or slap across the face. I write to make you feel, think, and burn with the thrill that can only come from getting lost in the pages. I love to write unforgettable characters who wrestle with life's largest problems. My books may always end with a Happily Ever After, but there will always be drama on the way there.