Release Blitz - Soul on Fire by Tal Bauer

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Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK | Universal Link

Length: 75,000 words

Blurb

A deadly virus burns through the jungle, leaving nothing but corpses in its wake. Everyone flees from the outbreak—except for the terrorists intent on weaponizing the catastrophe.


Lieutenant Elliot Davis, US Navy SEAL, is sent to rescue CIA officers from their clandestine base in Goma, the Democratic Republic of Congo, and evacuate them out of the country. What they’ve uncovered sends Elliot back to the Congo, trying to prevent an attack that could spark a global pandemic.


Dr. Ikolo Ngondu runs a refugee hospital caught between the advancing rebels intent on slaughtering everyone in their path and Elliot’s mission to find and capture their leader. In the chaos of a surprise attack, Elliot’s target slips away, and the only way to find him is to plunge into the Congo’s dark, dangerous, and fevered forest with Ikolo as his guide.


Together they track a burning shadow through Africa’s broken heart, and Elliot struggles to reconcile the world he finds with the life he’s lived as a black man in the West. He looks to Ikolo for answers and finds a man with a core so bright and fierce he scorches Elliot’s soul.


Even as they race against time, Elliot and Ikolo have no idea what’s been set in motion with their mission: a dark secret lies at the center, one that leaves billions of lives hovering between life and death.


And through it all, a question burns inside Elliot, one that only Ikolo may hold the answer to.

Tal Bauer is an award-winning and best-selling author of LGBT romantic thrillers. He is happily married and lives with his husband in Texas. Tal is a member of the Romance Writers of America.


Website - www.talbauerwrites.com

Amazon Author - http://amazon.com/author/talbauer

Twitter - @TalBauerWrites

Email: tal@talbauerwrites.com

Newsletter - http://eepurl.com/cs0vsn

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Review Tour - How To Run With The Wolves by Eli Easton

Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK | Universal Link - Exclusive to Amazon and Available to Borrow with Kindle Unlimited

Cover Design: Reese Dante


Howl At The Moon Series


How To Howl At The Moon (Book #1) Amazon US | Amazon UK

How To Walk Like A Man (Book #2) Amazon US | Amazon UK

How To Wish Upon A Star (Book #3) Amazon US | Amazon UK

How To Save A Life (Book #4) - Amazon US | Amazon UK

Blurb 

Zeus loves his job on the Mad Creek Search & Rescue team, and his inner Saint Bernard is finally being used to his full potential. When he sees a mysterious and wild-looking quickened—a dog shifter—at an earthquake site in Alaska, Zeus is compelled to investigate. Zeus falls hard for the primal beauty of Timo and of Alaska itself. Both call to his deep canine soul. But the Qimmig pack’s laws are as harsh as the Alaskan winters, and Timo is out of his reach.

Timo’s pack of dog shifters left their Inuit village generations ago and have lived wild ever since. Not trusting the “one-skinned,” and with their numbers dwindling, the Qimmig are on the verge of extinction. Timo is shocked to discover a whole group of “two-skinned” working as a rescue team, and he is particularly fascinated by Zeus, a gentle giant. He senses what Zeus feels for him… but it’s forbidden.

Can Mad Creek save this lost quickened clan? Perhaps—if they can learn how to run with the wolves.

CHAPTER 12 excerpt

Zeus

The next morning, Zeus woke again at dawn. He looked at the ceiling of the little hut, knowing today was the day. This morning, in fact. Real life called, and it was time for Zeus’s human, adult side to take the reins.

Timo had hopped into bed with him again last night, both of them so tired they’d fallen asleep immediately. He’d rolled away at some point, too hot to puppy pile, and now he lay on his stomach, face turned away.

The bed was so warm and cozy, with Timo’s radiating heat and the cool morning air in the room. And Zeus’s dog was still sore and tired. But all good things must end. With a sigh, Zeus got up. He put on his clothes and went out to take a piss.

When he came back inside, Timo was sitting up, rubbing his face. “It’s early. Let’s sleep some more.”

Zeus shook his head. “Can you drive me back to Yakatuk this morning? I have to get back to my team.”

Timo’s face fell. He blinked a few times, then looked away, gazing at the wall and yawning casually as if he didn’t care. But Zeus didn’t quite believe it.

“Timo?”

“I will come back.” Timo hopped out of bed and moseyed to the door of the hut, rubbing his naked hip as if there was a sore spot there.

Zeus averted his eyes. Eventually.

Dressed, there was nothing else for him to do but wait. So he tossed the blanket back over the bed and sat down on it gingerly. Man, his forearms were crazy sore today! They always got that way when he overdid it on all fours. They weren’t used to being weight-bearing appendages.

From outside, bird tweets filled the air, and sunlight gleamed around the edges of the ill-fitting door. Zeus had a feeling he’d dream about this place—and about Timo—for a very long time to come.

He rubbed his chest. Why did he feel so sad? Ugh. His inner dog would have to be drug away from this place as though on a leash.

Timo came back in. He didn’t look at Zeus but went to his clothes and pulled on a pair of jeans. They fit him so well and he looked particularly good in them with bare feet and bare chest, his long hair brushing his pale yellow skin.

Zeus looked down at his knees, frowning. “Sorry you have to drive me back. I bet we can get some gas in—oof!”

Timo tackled him onto his back on the bed. He tickled Zeus’s stomach, which made Zeus laugh, and then hovered over him, arms straight, elbows locked. He grinned. “Let’s play. Change into your fur. We can run in the woods. There’s a place I want to show you. It’s not far.”

Zeus looked up at Timo’s smile, his stomach doing lazy swoops. Timo’s long hair hung down and brushed the side of Zeus’s face, causing a shivery little flash of electricity.

“Stay one more day? Please?” Timo pouted, his eyes at maximum puppy dog.

Zeus swallowed and dared reach up to rub a long strand of Timo’s hair between his fingers. It was so coarse and strong, yet silky too. He searched Timo’s eyes and found determination there. Maybe even possessiveness. But why? Timo and Yuki both seemed to want Zeus in the pack. Was it just as another male hunter? Did they have too many females? He tried to see more in Timo’s eyes, some sign that he had more than a casual affection for Zeus, but it just wasn’t there.

Zeus sighed. “Timo, I have to go. I’ve got a mother. Father. Friends. A job back home. The Search and Rescue team. I like your camp very much. And you too. But I can’t run away from my life.”

Timo turned his face to the wall as if unable to look at Zeus. He wriggled his nose. “But you love it here. Yesterday—you loved it. This is the best camp. There is game in the valley. And we have shelter here, fire in the winter. And there is another trail that goes to the sea where we can get all the food that swims. We have everything.”

Shit, now Zeus felt guilty, like he was insulting the camp. “It’s a very nice camp. And yesterday was awesome. But my friends will be anxious and worried. They’re probably waiting for me to go home. Please, Timo.”

Without another word, Timo bounded up off the bed and took off out the door.

“Timo!” Zeus called after him, frustrated.

But by the time he got outside and looked around, Timo was gone.

About Eli


Having been, at various times and under different names, a minister’s daughter, a computer programmer, a game designer, the author of paranormal mysteries, a fan fiction writer, and organic farmer, Eli has been a m/m romance author since 2013. She has over 30 books published.


Eli has loved romance since her teens and she particular admires writers who can combine literary merit, genuine humor, melting hotness, and eye-dabbing sweetness into one story. She promises to strive to achieve most of that most of the time. She currently lives on a farm in Pennsylvania with her husband, bulldogs, cows, a cat, and lots of groundhogs.


In romance, Eli is best known for her Christmas stories because she’s a total Christmas sap. These include “Blame it on the Mistletoe”, “Unwrapping Hank” and “Merry Christmas, Mr. Miggles”. Her “Howl at the Moon” series of paranormal romances featuring the town of Mad Creek and its dog shifters has been popular with readers. And her series of Amish-themed romances, Men of Lancaster County, has won genre awards.

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Release Blitz - The Positions of Love Book 13 by J.M Snyder

Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK | JMS Books | Universal Link

Length: 99,966 words.

Publisher: JMS Books 

Blurb

When Matt diLorenzo gives his lover, Vic Braunson, a copy of the Kama Sutra for Gay Men as a Christmas gift, they find it doubles as a handy reference guide to Vic's super powers. All they have to do is test out the positions to see which one gives him what ability ...



Contains the stories:



The Positions of Love: When Vic’s boss asks him to play Santa at the company Christmas party, the enticement of more time off sweetens the deal. It might be a wonderful holiday season after all ... if he can only find the perfect present for his lover.



Two Pillars Position: Some mornings, Vic stops by the gym to bench-press a few thousand pounds, show off for his fellow bodybuilders, and spend some time with his lover before he has to start his day. A quickie in the pool showers seems like a good way to get the blood pumping ...



Clasping Position: Though Vic had difficulty finding a suitable gift for his lover for Christmas, Matt has the perfect evening planned for Valentine's. He's made reservations at an expensive steakhouse for the two of them, and hopes the intimate dinner is a prelude to a night of love. But things get a little frisky before they leave for the restaurant.



Hammock Position: Spring is in the air, and Matt convinces Vic to join him for a little rest and relaxation on the sunny banks of the James River. What's more enticing than sex on the rocks by the river's rapids?



Two Dogs Position: Doggy style brings out the animal in Vic, literally. He finds out the hard way, when Matt invites friends over for a party. Vic's heightened senses reel from the sights and sounds, and he locks himself away in the bathroom just to get his latest superpower under control. But what he hears in the apartment above puts the party on hold.



Cowboy Position: Matt diLorenzo has a secret fetish -- he loves to watch a man eat. When Vic finds out, he suggests they share a quiet, indoor picnic. Something sinfully sexy, for just the two of them. On the menu? Whipped cream, fresh strawberries, and chocolate syrup drizzled over Matt's bare skin for Vic to lick off.



Kneeling Butterfly Position: It's a rainy Saturday and Matt wants to spend it at the mall. And what Matt wants, he gets. There's only one little problem. He loves shopping; Vic does not. Still, the promise of sex in the dressing room sparks Vic's interest.



Pillar and the Ivy Position: One of Matt’s favorite sexual positions, but he doubts his ability to support Vic’s weight as they make love standing up. He’s not the one with super strength, after all. Vic thinks maybe they could pull it off ... in the gym’s swimming pool.



Tripod Position: It's Vic's birthday, and Matt wants to do something special. When he discovers his lover has a leather fetish and used to be into clubbing, Matt thinks it'd be fun to go out as a couple to celebrate his special night. But while Matt looks sexy in boyshorts, Vic isn't the only one watching.



Lotus Position: When Vic has a few days off from work, the two visit Wildwood, New Jersey, a tourist town Matt used to frequent as a child. Though Vic isn't keen on crowds and would prefer to spend his downtime at home, Matt entices him with the offer of sex on the beach ... and he doesn't mean the drink, either.



The Arc Position: It’s Halloween, and Roxie is having a party. Matt wants to dress as policemen but Vic’s latest power creates a costume all his own.



Sideways Position: For Thanksgiving, Matt takes Vic home to meet his parents. The diLorenzos aren’t quite sure what to make of their son’s lover. Matt’s Nonna tends to lapse into her native tongue without realizing it. Imagine everyone’s surprise when Vic answers her in flawless Italian.



Author Bio



J.M. Snyder is a multi-published author of gay erotic romance who started writing fanfic (specifically, boyband slash). She has worked with several different e-publishers, including Amber Allure Press and Torquere Press, and has short stories published in anthologies by Alyson Books, Cleis Press, eXcessica, and Lethe Press. In 2010, she started JMS Books LLC to promote and publish her own work as well as that of other authors she enjoys.



For more information, please visit jmsnyder.net.



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Release Blitz - OPEN WATER by Sophia Soames

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Open Water (Scandinavian Comfort, Book 2)

Author: Sophia Soames

Publisher: Self published

Cover Artist: Miriam Latu

Release Date: July 20, 2019

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romance

Trope/s: Enemies to lovers, Second Chance, Older couple and Younger couple

Themes: Late Coming out, Growing up, Mental health, Parenting

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 99 031 words

This is a standalone story and the second book in the “Scandinavian Comfort” series. These books celebrate love, family and realistic messy lives, threaded with the Scandinavian concept of ‘’Hygge”. This Danish concept cannot be translated to one single word but encompasses a feeling of cozy contentment and well-being through enjoying the simple things in life. 

Previous book Little Harbour (Scandinavian Comfort, Book 1) is available on Amazon, KU and in Paperback.

Reader Beware

This story is set in Sweden, where the age of consent is 16. The laws are there to protect children from abuse or exploitation, rather than to prosecute under-16s who participate in mutually consenting sexual activity. There are a multitude of cultural differences described in this story that readers from other parts of the world might find strange or downright amusing, also family practices that not every Scandinavian family would necessarily agree with. 

Trigger Warnings: anxiety, panic attacks and brief non-graphic flashbacks to traumatic events and bullying.

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Buy Links - Available on KindleUnlimited

Universal Link

Amazon US | Amazon UK 

Blurb



Meet Lukas Myrtengren, Mentor Teacher in Biology and Maths at Östra Real Senior School in Stockholm. He makes sure his students pass his classes. He is hopeless when it comes to men, but is trying to sort his life out. Honestly. He can't keep living like this.



Meet Tom Andersson. Emergency room doctor and single dad. He has no idea how he has managed to mess up parenthood this bad. He hasn't meant to, he just hasn't got a clue how to deal with the son he loves to the point of insanity. He knows that he is drifting out to sea without a paddle, he just doesn't know how to stop it.



Meet me, Max Andersson. Seventeen. Gay AF. An emotional wreck with no future, no skills and no clue. All I know is that I am in love. Helplessly. Desperately. And unrequited, of course. What else can I expect? It's not like my life is going to get any better.



Welcome to Open Water.

Excerpt



I actually manage to read two of the links before the sound of Dad’s homecoming echoes through the house. Big loud footfalls in the hallway. The swish of his coat being thrown over the banister. Huffing and puffing when he realises that we have no food in the fridge. Zero. We did have a banana, but I ate it. Serves him right for not coming home first.



He comes around the corner with a glass of water in his hand, still weirded out, like he doesn’t know where to look. What to say. Whether he should even step over the threshold.



“Did you eat?” he asks. Taking a gulp of water.



“Banana. We have no food,” I huff back, pretending to tap on the keyboard.



“I can go down to ICA. Get some supplies. What do you want?” He looks really confused. Fiddling with some chipped paint on the doorframe to my room.



“Dad, why did you do whatever you did to Lukas? What did he do?” I slam my laptop shut. I’m curious. Also, whatever he did will give me lots of ammo to use if I need it. Put some pressure on Lukas. Get back at my Dad when I need it. Secrets are good. I’m good at keeping them. I’m also good at using them.



“You will just hate me if I tell you. Some secrets are better kept inside,” he says, looking so fucking sad it almost breaks my heart.



“You never told me much about when you went to Östra Real. Did you do the whole graduation thing?”



“Yeah. I did everything. Student Committee, Student Council. Parties. Hazing. Rode all around town on a tractor trailer whilst drunk and disorderly. All that shit.”



“Cool.”



It is actually. Like my Dad was on the Student Council. And was in the Hazing group. I kind of nod appreciatively. Not that I approve of it, but the kids who run in those groups are like the cool kids. The A-team. People who matter.



“I hated it. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.” He is still looking sad.



“Are there photos? Did you keep any footage? I mean it must have been twenty years ago, but surely you had cameras?”



“I got rid of them all. I wanted to just kill off who I was. I wasn’t a nice person, Max. I hurt people and I was a fucking idiot.”



“Is that the reason you got rid of the Björklund name, Dad? Because that was what they called you? I heard Simon call you that. Weird.”



“Yeah, partly. I was so scared your Mum would change her mind about giving you up, so I got it removed when you were born, thinking that it would be harder to find us with a more common name. I used to have nightmares of her turning up and snatching you away from me.”



“She gave up her parental rights. Why would she come for me?” I don’t get it. Well, I do. I am the master of overthinking shit and making up drama in my head. Then panicking and freaking out over it.



“She could have changed her mind. Regretted giving you up. I don’t know.” Dad is messing around with his hair again, picking at that chipped paint. Tapping his toes against the carpet.



“So why Lukas?” I need to know why. I mean. It’s intriguing. It’s the kind of story that would make a good script for Drama. I could probably score extra points with Simon just writing all this shit down on paper.



“He was this really cool guy. I mean, he came out during our second year. Just like that, everyone knew and he fucking owned it. This handsome cool dude, who was just who he was. No drama about it. He was a cocky little shit and the girls adored him. There was always this cluster of girls hanging around him and he had these really solid mates who defended him and loved him to bits. I mean, it was almost sickening. He had it all. People thought he was the fucking business. And hell, Max, he was so fucking cute.”



Dad stops himself and looks almost panic-stricken. Like he has said something totally wrong. Which it takes me a minute or two to compute.



“Cute?” I say. Fucking hell, Dad.



“Forget it. I am going to ICA. I’ll get meatballs. Or pizza. Or whatever.”



Yeah and a shit-ton of alcohol. Because Dad is freaking out and I almost crash my laptop onto the floor getting my feet tangled in the charging lead, following him out into the hallway.



“Dad. You were in love with him, weren’t you? That’s why you did it. You loved him. Fucking hell, Dad. After all this and you freaking loved him.”

About the Author 

Sophia Soames should be old enough to know better but has barely grown up. She has been known to fangirl over tv-shows, has fallen in and out of love with more popstars than she dares to remember, and has a ridiculously high-flying (un-)glamourous real-life job.



Her long suffering husband just laughs at her antics. Their children are feral. The Au Pair just sighs.



She lives in a creaky old house in rural London, although her heart is still in Scandinavia.



Discovering that the stories in her head make sense when written down has been part of the most hilarious midlife crisis ever and she hopes it may long continue.



Miriam Latu is a Norway based artist, specializing in hand drawn pencil portraits. She works with old-school pen and paper, and more of her work can be found on Instagram @om_hundre_ar_er_allting.

Author Links

Facebook | Twitter: @sophiasoames | Instagram: @sophiasoames 

Giveaway 

My previous book, 717 miles, a NA story set in London, will be FREE for 5 days from July 24. 

No entry requirements. 

Just log into Amazon (Mybook.to/717miles) and download your own free copy! 

Happy reading!

Check out the other blog posts and reviews here

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Release Blitz - Herc's Mercs Anthology #3 by Ari McKay

Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK

Cover Design: Lyrical Lines

Herc's Mercs

The Collection - Volume 1 - Amazon US | Amazon UK

The Collection - Volume 2 - Amazon US | Amazon UK 

ABOVE AND BEYOND…

No matter where in the world they have to go, the men of Hercules Security are ready to kick ass, take names, and, above all, save lives. Putting themselves in harm’s way is second nature to these men, and they’ll do whatever it takes to protect the innocent. Unfortunately the cost of such bravery is often brutally high, and sometimes the price a hero must pay isn’t always obvious…

Hunter Callahan loved his job as an explosives expert, but when a seven-year-old boy walks into camp wearing a suicide vest, the explosion that rocks Hunter’s world leaves him with wounds too deep to see with the untrained eye. Payne “Pita” Gibson is the only one who stands a chance of saving Hunter from self destruction, but doing so means Payne must share private facets of his own life. Could his unusual form of therapy not only help Hunter, but also win his heart? Pushing Hunter’s limits so hard is a test of Payne’s own strength of will -- but everyone knows that it’s No Pain, No Gain.

When Joe Morrissey returns home from a traumatic mission, he never expects to discover that his longtime partner and lover, Brian Finnegan, has fallen in love with someone else. Even though he wants Finn to be happy, Joe finds it difficult to share his lover with Drew Martin. But when fallout from Joe’s recent mission puts Finn in danger, Joe must work with Drew to save Finn’s life. With everything he holds dear at risk, Joe is pushed to the breaking point -- and Drew must step in to help put him back together. As Drew develops feelings for Joe as well, can Joe open his heart to the possibility of there being Room For One More?

Ari McKay is the professional pseudonym for Arionrhod and McKay, who have been writing together for over a decade. Their collaborations encompass a wide variety of romance genres, including contemporary, fantasy, science fiction, gothic, and action/adventure. Their work includes the Blood Bathory series of paranormal novels, the Herc’s Mercs series, as well as two historical Westerns: Heart of Stone and Finding Forgiveness. When not writing, they can often be found scheming over costume designs or binge watching TV shows together.

Arionrhod is a systems engineer by day who is eagerly looking forward to (hopefully) becoming a full time writer in the not-too-distant future. Now that she is an empty-nester, she has turned her attentions to finding the perfect piece of land to build a fortress in preparation for the zombie apocalypse, and baking (and eating) far too many cakes.

McKay is an English teacher who has been writing for one reason or another most of her life. She also enjoys knitting, reading, cooking, and playing video games. She has been known to knit in public. Given she has the survival skills of a gnat, she’s relying on Arionrhod to help her survive the zombie apocalypse.

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Release Blitz - Trusting The Elements by Elle Keaton

Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK | Universal Link

Length: 50,000 words approx.

Cover Design: Cate Ashwood

Cover Photo: Paul Henry Serres

Blurb


There’s nothing like a near death car accident to open your eyes. Otto Proulx decides surviving was a sign; he’s being given a second chance to claim the life he wants to live. For the past few years he’s been hiding in the shadows, vague texts from a troubled ex-partner keep him at home along with his general lack of luck in the romance department. This is his last chance, he’s certain, this time he’ll meet the man for him, the one he’s sure is out there somewhere.


Greg Trainor runs a specialty kite shop and helps his friends out when they ask. That’s the kind of guy he is, if somebody needs something, they call on Greg. He’s a big guy and no genius, but he’s dependable. So…yeah, when he sees a car precariously perched on the side of the road, he stops to help out; it’s what he does.


One night of passion leads to…several more and suddenly both men are searching around to define what they have together. Neither wants to scare the other off and neither wants to ask for more. Will the two men be able to set aside their fears and create a family together, trusting the elements are in their favor?

Thanks for stopping by, I’m Elle Keaton and I hail from the northwest corner of the US where we are known for rain, rain and more rain. I write the Accidental Roots series, set here in the Pacific Northwest featuring hot mm romance and the guarantee of a happy ending for my men. They start out broken, and maybe they end up that way too, but they always find the other half of their hearts.


I started writing way back when but only began publishing about two and a half years ago and now have nine books out. Each features a couple in my little universe, sometimes there is added mystery and suspense.


Thank you for supporting this Indie Author,


Elle


Find me, follow me, friend me:


Website: https://www.ellekeaton.com/

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/ElleKeatonWrites

Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/HighwayToElle/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/elle-keaton

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/elle.keaton_author

Twitter: https://twitter.com/PirateQueenRdz1

Amazon: https://amzn.to/ek-amazon-profile

Goodreads: https://bit.ly/ek-gr-profile



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Release Blitz - Nothing Ventured by Jay Northcote

Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK | Universal Link

Cover Design: Garrett Leigh @ Black Jazz Design

Blurb

Mud, sweat, and reluctant romance. Can Aiden and Matt sort out their feelings before race day?

When Aiden agrees to run the Mad Mucker—a twelve-mile muddy slog over an obstacle course—he’s expecting it to be a bit of a laugh. The training will be tough, but Aiden could use the motivation to regain some fitness.

Matt is the sexy cousin of one of Aiden’s coworkers and a last-minute addition to the team. When he agrees to train with Aiden, Aiden suddenly finds the prospect of regular workouts a lot more appealing.

Soon attraction flares, and they embark on an intense physical relationship. Matt doesn’t want to fall in love with a man, and Aiden doesn’t want to fall in love at all, but despite their insistence on no strings, they grow closer. As the day of the race approaches, time is running out for them to work out how they feel about each other.

Jay lives just outside Bristol in the West of England. He comes from a family of writers, but always used to believe that the gene for fiction writing had passed him by. He spent years only ever writing emails, articles, or website content.

One day, Jay decided to try and write a short story—just to see if he could—and found it rather addictive. He hasn’t stopped writing since.

Jay writes contemporary romance about men who fall in love with other men. He has five books published by Dreamspinner Press, and also self-publishes under the imprint Jaybird Press. Many of his books are now available as audiobooks.

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Review Tour - Patron Of Mercy (Lords of The Underworld #3) by Sam Burns & W.M Fawkes

Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK | Universal Link - Exclusive to Amazon and Available to Borrow with Kindle Unlimited


Length: 70,000 words approx.


Cover Design: Natasha Snow


Lords of the Underworld Series


Prince of Death - Amazon US | Amazon UK | Universal Link

Prisoner Of Shadows - Amazon US | Amazon UK | Universal Link


Blurb


Lach has spent the last few thousand years counting only on himself. What he needed, he took. What he wanted, he won with charm. All except a god he turned his back on an age ago, when he had a different name and didn’t know what he was giving up.


Thanatos, god of merciful death, is one of the gentlest gods in the pantheon—easing the transition between life and death for billions of mortals. But he has faced eternity alone. After breaking his heart on the sharp words of a fisherman’s son, he hasn’t been able to connect with anyone.


Now, Lach is crashing back into Thanatos’s life, dragging him into an adventure that could save the world . . . or kill them both.


PATRON OF MERCY IS THE THIRD BOOK IN A SERIES, BUT CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE NOVEL.


My Two Pennies' Worth

Gods and myths are my new favourite things in gay romance. And this series is one of my favourites. This is book 3 but there is no real requirement  to read them in order apart from missing out on a couple of excellent stories and meeting some of the side characters in  their own books. (Also I think Hermes character development will be important going into the next series.)

Borrowing from myths and legends and making it work in the 21st century is effortlessly done here.

This is a fun story with a solid and believable second chance romance, despite said romance being thousands of years in the making and between a titan and an immortal human. 
They fit together so beautifully, this snarky, light fingered immortal and the ever gentle god of Death.

The adventure part jogged along nicely while we focused on the reconnection but flared into life at the end. 

Come for the search of Cronas' scythe, stay for the epic romance.

I want Hermes story so bad now. The man has serious daddy issues. 

Sam Burns wrote her first fantasy epic with her best friend when she was ten. Like almost any epic fiction written by a ten year old, it was awful. She likes to think she’s improved since then, if only because she has better handwriting now.

If she’s not writing, she’s almost certainly either reading or lost down a Wikipedia rabbit hole while pretending to research for a novel.

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W.M. Fawkes is an author of LGBTQ+ urban fantasy and paranormal romance. With coauthor Sam Burns, she writes feisty Greek gods, men, and monsters in the Lords of the Underworld series. She lives with her partner in a house owned by three halloween-hued felines that dabble regularly in shadow walking.


Website: https://www.fawkeswrites.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/fawkeswrites

Twitter: https://twitter.com/FawkesWrites

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Audio Blitz - Don't Judge by A.E. Via

Buy Links: Audible US | Audible UK | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Length: 8hrs 30mins

Narrator: Aiden Snow

Nothing Special Series

Book #1 - Nothing Special - Audible US | Audible UK | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Book #2 - Embracing His Syn - Audible US | Audible UK | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Book #3 - Here Comes Trouble - Audible US | Audible UK | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Blurb

Detective Austin Michaels didn't think life could get any better after he was accepted into the most notorious narcotics task force on the East Coast, headed up by two of the baddest Lieutenants with the Atlanta Police Department - Cashel Godfrey and Leonidis Day.

Michaels knew he would fit right in as the team's sniper, having received his fair share of commendations for marksmanship. He was just as badass as the rest of the twenty brothers that made up their team. But when Michaels lets their prime suspect get away from a huge bust with over a quarter of a million dollars in drugs, he's willing to do whatever it takes to make it right.

Left with no other options, God chooses to bring in outside help, calling on his long-time friend and bounty hunter, Judge Josephson.

Judge was considered one of the best trackers during his enlistment in the United States Marine Corps. After retiring, he used those skills to become one of the most sought out fugitive trackers in the country. When Judge gets a call from his old friend needing his help, he quickly tells God, yes.

Contains mature themes.

A.E. Via has been a best-selling author in the beautiful gay romance genre for five years now, but she’s no stranger to MM. She’s been an avid reader of gay lit for over fifteen years before she picked up her laptop to place her own kiss on this genre. She’s also the founder and owner of Via Star Wings Books, having published a couple great new up and coming MM authors.


A.E. has a Bachelor of Arts in Criminal Justice from Virginia Wesleyan College that she used to start her own paralegal firm after she graduated in 2008. She spent five years preparing and filing bankruptcy petitions for struggling blue collar workers who couldn’t afford to file with a lawyer. It was a rewarding and satisfying career… but another path called to her. Writing.


A.E.’s writing embodies everything from hopelessly romantic to adventure, to scandalous. Her stories often include intriguing edges and twists that take readers to new, thought-provoking depths.


Now that she’s gotten over her 10 books published hump, she’s kind of known now for her hardcore, play rough and love hard, bad boy, alphas. However, she does like to push herself to step out of her comfort zone, exploring different tropes, but she won’t push herself into a whole other genre. She’s head over heels for gay romance and she has tons of more hot stories to tell.


Be sure to visit Adrienne on her social media pages and subscribe to her newsletter to never miss another release date! Go to A.E. Via’s official website http://authoraevia.com for more detailed information on how to contact her, follow her, or a sneak peak at upcoming work, free reads, VSWB submissions, and where she’ll appear next.

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Review Tour - Love & Tea Bags by C.F. White

Buy Links: Pride Publishing - To be released wide July 16

Cover Design: Erin Dameron-Hill

Length: 79,679 words

Publisher: Pride Publishing

Blurb

Fate can be written in a tea bag too.


Mark Johnson is hitting his forties and is stuck in a rut.


He's had the same boring office job for ten years, with no motivation or inclination to change it. The same crumbling house for ten years, with no cash or know-how to fix it. And the same Facebook status for five years—it's complicated. It isn't. He's single. He just doesn't want to correct it. That would be admitting defeat.


The day a tea bag splats onto his face whilst he’s emptying the dregs of his morning cuppa at Macy's Tea Shoppe is the one that makes him question each of his current life choices…the tea bag and that the shop is currently being run by one rather friendly, rather hunky, but rather young Australian named Bradley Summers.


Tea has never tasted so good.

Excerpt

The slurp was loud and rather obnoxious, especially when the man was sipping from one of Mark’s grandmother’s dainty china tea cups that Mark saved for special occasions. Since Mark hadn’t had any need for the guest china in quite some time, he’d let Grammy’s cardinal rule slide for the strapping workman clambering up in his loft.


“Yup, I see the problem,” the workman yelled down the open hatch in Mark’s landing ceiling that led to the over-cluttered store of stuff that Mark hadn’t set foot in for…well, quite some time.


Mark wished he hadn’t offered the man a brew. He really hadn’t had the time to wait for the kettle to boil, for a start. But he’d been brought up well, and one must offer one’s tradesmen a cuppa in the hope they’ll knock a few quid off the call-out charge. He suspected he would have to delve deep into his already ravine-like pockets, so anything that could be considered mates-rates would really help at this point in his life. Mark wished he did have mates. Ones that were handy, anyway.


“Oh, yes?” Mark called back, his voice echoing through the square hole in his ceiling. He closed his eyes, for some reason, as if that would soften the blow of what was going to come out of the man’s mouth next.


“Gonna need coupla new roof tiles, mate. A lotta this stuff is gonna get ruined.”


“Bugger,” Mark muttered into his own mug of piping-hot tea. Well, it was rude not to join the man in a beverage.


“What was that?” The man’s round, if somewhat flushed, face appeared at the hole.


“Nothing, nothing.” Mark shook his head. He didn’t much fancy repeating himself. The man might take it seriously and give him a whack. Or, which would be much worse, not take the job of fixing Mark’s leaking roof. “Thank you.” He smiled.


Mark had been told, on occasion, that he had quite a nice smile. One that relaxed people. Mark, however, believed it to be far more useful to allow people to walk all over him. Or pass by him. Through him…


With a grunt, the workman set his steel-toe-capped boots on two metal rungs of the ladder, revealing the tip of his rounded behind popping out of the elastic waistband that appeared to be failing in its one basic function. Normally, on an average Saturday night, Mark wouldn’t have minded the view, as his internet history would evidence. But today was a Monday and the man didn’t look like he would appreciate Mark’s ogling. Not that Mark was ogling. He just had nowhere else to look. Honest.


On reaching the landing, the workman crashed back into Mark. Stumbling, Mark gripped his cup with both hands to prevent the utter travesty of spillage onto the carpet. Not only did he not have time to clear up any stains—not that any would show on the swirling patterns of the seventies-design stitch work—but he also hated to waste a cup of the good stuff.


The workman hefted up his jogging bottoms, his hands empty of the china tea cup he had been avidly slurping from up in the loft. And that meant Mark would now either have to venture up into the space he avoided like the seaside lido on a May bank holiday afternoon, or leave it up there to breed new life. He knew which he would rather.


“Right.” The man scratched his stubbled chin. “See, you’re gonna need a coupla new tiles. Tha’s what the leak is. The rain we been ’avin is comin’ in frou ta ’ole in ya roof. Travelling daan the walls and dripping aaat ya ceiling.”


“Good-oh.” Mark nodded, not letting on for a single second that he had no idea what the man had just said. “Uh, can you fix it?” He mentally crossed his fingers in the hope that he hadn’t just said that he could. Or couldn’t.


“Yeah, no sweat. I can do two tiles at a ton.”


“A what now?”


“A ton.”


“A ton of what? Tiles?”


“No. A hundred smackers.”


Mark blanked, shaking his head.


“Paand?”


“Oh, I see. Well, that’s not too bad then.” Mark smiled. And phewed. Mentally.


“But that won’t fix ya problem.”


“Oh dear.” Mark furrowed his brow, which he didn’t like to do all that often as the lines weren’t smoothing out after so much anymore.


“Dunno which bleedin’ cowboy did ya roof last, but they didn’t felt it.” The man tucked a tiny pencil behind his ear. Where he’d got the pencil from was Mark’s first question. Quickly followed by, do I really want to know?


“That cowboy would be my grandfather.” Mark attempted to add a hint of pride to his voice, but the vacant expression of the workman before him just made him slink into a guilty, wincing admission. “He built the house.”


“Ah. Right. ’Nover ’and-me-down was it?”


“Hand-me-down?” More deep-set wrinkles formed on Mark’s brow. He must remember to use that skincare range for men he’d got as a Secret Santa present at work last year, the one that claimed to defy even the deepest-set wrinkles. He had a hunch who’d been bold enough to buy that for him. Bloody Yvonne.


The man waved, indicating Mark’s attire. “The clothes.”


Mark held out his arms, still clutching his mug of tea, and peered down at himself. Trusty grey corduroy trousers, wonderful and comfy, and rather warm considering the current climate, matched with a white button-down shirt. The vest underneath was simply due to the fact that his dark nipples tended to show through the thin material of cheap cotton. He’d discovered that tidbit of information back at secondary school when the popular boys used to poke his nipples through his school shirt, many twisting for added effect. And people say all-boy grammar schools are a safe haven from bullying.


Mark ran a hand through his thick dark hair, sliding it across his forehead in a floppy fringe, ignoring the jibe at his attire and moving on to the pressing transaction at hand. “So you were saying about the roof?”


“Yeah. Gonna need ta replace it.” The man sniffed, his chest rising with the inhale of breath, then shrugged. “Set ya back ’bout five grand.”


The fact that Mark had chosen the man’s pause to take a sip of tea probably summed up his entire existence. It had been, of course, the wrong decision. He spat the tea out, liquid escaping from his nose, and coughed, gasping to get air, rather than the delightful Twinings English Breakfast, into his lungs.


The workman slapped him on the back. Perhaps he thought that would help the situation. It didn’t. It only exacerbated it, knocking Mark off his feet and forcing him to grapple for the banister to prevent a rather tragic tumble down the stairs.


“Better out than in, I say.” The workman did say.


Mark blanked. If only the boys at his delightful modern secondary grammar had believed in that statement back when Mark had been in year ten and announcing to the world he was gay. Not that any of his peers had had any doubt before Mark had made his fabulous speech. But Mark presumed they would have preferred him to stay in on that day, considering many had received detention for the words of “encouragement” they had called out in a perfect display of teenage camaraderie.


“Well, I can do the tiles tomorra,” the man carried on, oblivious to Mark’s inner turmoil. “Fink about the rest of da roof, though. You don’t want it cavin’ in on ya.”


Mark nodded, although, right then the thought of paying out five thousand pounds that he didn’t have made him consider the alternative option.


“Righty-oh. Thank you very much for coming out on such short notice.” Mark ushered him down the stairs.


“No probs. Give me card your granddad, then.” The man handed over a bent business card, a mobile phone number scrawled on the back with black pen along with the words The Man With The Van Who Can. Mark pondered if there was anything that he couldn’t? Or wouldn’t?


“That would be rather futile. Grampy died quite some time ago.”


“Oh.” The man squinted, stepping out into the daylight and onto Mark’s porch. “So you chose this?”


“Chose what?” Mark desperately tried not to furrow his brow.


The man waved his hand, indicating, Mark presumed, the entire house’s internal decor.


“I like antiques.” Could seventies decor be considered antique? He supposed it could.


“You get antique wallpaper these days then?”


Bastard. “Oh, indeed.” Mark nodded. “Worth a fortune.”


Mark slammed the door shut and rested his back against the wall, glancing around at the house he’d lived in coming along ten years now. It was falling apart and no redecoration had been done since probably the last time he’d been up in the loft. He sighed, slammed his mug down on the windowsill and decided now was the time for a decent cup of the good stuff.


Grabbing his black Barbour jacket from the coat hooks, he slipped his feet into the black loafers by the door then ventured out into the morning sun. And what a glorious day it was, perfect to be beside the seaside. And Mark was. He lived directly opposite the pebble beach of Marsby in the south east, a quaint little seaside town that homed more retirees than tourists. Not that Mark was retired. He could only wish for that, although he was leaning nearer to the end of his career than the start. Mid-career, perhaps? Christ, maybe I should think about actually having a career rather than simply a job that barely pays the bills?


Trying to forget that he had left a gaping hole in his roof—and now his ceiling having forgotten to shut the loft hatch—Mark rammed his hands into his jacket pockets and thanked whomever above for the abnormal radiant sun. And that was when the inevitable dark clouds glided overhead and droplets landed with splats on his cheeks. Such was Mark’s luck. So he trotted that bit faster along the pathway beside the beach and into the main High Street, stopping at the welcoming sign of Macy’s Ye Olde Style Tea Shoppe on the corner.


The bell above the door chimed as Mark hurried into his regular haunt. He’d been going there for quite a few years now, since his move back to his home town from the mean streets of London, and still hadn’t figured out why Macy added the extra p and e to the shop. He shook his hair out like a wet dog and nodded at the umbrellas Macy always offered to customers on such regular occurrences as torrential rain, a quick downpour, scattered showers and that really fine light rain that has one believing they aren’t getting wet until they get home and their clothes are sopping.


The shop was empty, which was rather odd. There was usually someone sipping on a decent cup of tea made from the loose leaves in a well-stewed pot. Macy made proper tea, using a strainer, and it tasted every bit of the aromatic leaves that it should. She was also a rather good baker and Mark was horrified that there were no buns, baps or any other derogatory term used for parts of the female anatomy displayed on the counter for Mark to scoff and instantly burn off the calories by breathing. He had a fast metabolism, which was both a dream and a curse.


As Mark slapped a hand down on the counter, he heard shuffling back in the kitchen area. Thank God Macy was there. He needed a chat. And a tea.


“Helloooo? Only me, love. Usual cuppa when you’re ready.”


Drumming his fingers on the counter, Mark swivelled a one-eighty. Vacant seats and no-one in the vicinity looking like they might want venture on in to grab a tea to go, which would be quite difficult as Macy only served tea in porcelain cups. And rightly so.


“So, Macy, love,” Mark called out over his shoulder, thinking it was best to fill her in now or he might not have time to divulge all the details of his eventful morning before he had to head into work. “I’ve decided I’m better off if I just kill myself now.”


He leaned forward over the counter, ensuring his voice would drift to the kitchen. “Turns out my roof might collapse on me anyway. And according to this rather annoyingly beefcaked member of the male species, the sight of whose perfectly rounded behind is now imprinted on me for many a future solo endeavour, and who graced me with a whole other English language making me feel every bit of my—cough—years, it’s going to cost me rather more than my arm and my leg. And I’m sadly going to have to admit it, Macy love, that I’m not sure the fellow would accept an offer of my penis as monetary value. Not that I have a wealth of offers for that part of my anatomy these days anyway. Much like the pound to the euro, I swear it’s shrinking in value.”


He chuckled at his own joke, as he so often did, then spun around to face the seating area. A couple of joggers zoomed past the window, obviously on their beachside run rather than the mad dash for cakes and biscuits that he did.


“You okay, Mace? Need a hand?”


No reply. So Mark leafed through the selection of pre-packed biscuits crammed in the bowl by the till. Macy had one of those old-fashioned registers. No electronic buttons to press. No new-fangled tablet hooked up to the mains. It was basically a calculator with a drawer.


Choosing a packet of chocolate-dipped Viennese shortbread fingers, Mark cocked his head to peer through the open kitchen door. “I mean, Macy, what is the point in filing paperwork for a living just to earn enough money to fix a roof when I have no man to enjoy the comforts of my damp-free living space along with me? And by the time I find a willing participant to snuggle with me on my antique sofa looking at my antique wallpaper in my antique house, I’ll be ready to pop my clogs anyway. So, death by sugar, please, Macy.”


He slapped the counter to finalise his self-depreciative monologue, and nearly threw up the entire contents of his breakfast when a male vacated the back kitchen. Said man was wiping his hands on a rather beautifully stitched gingham tea towel. But that wasn’t the only thing that was a delight for the eye. The man was shirtless—rippling muscles, a glowing sheen of glistening skin and white-wash jeans hanging low on his perfectly sculpted hips. Needless to say, that wasn’t Macy.


“Hello,” Mark said, because, it is the polite way to greet a man, regardless of the lack of shirt and the highly embarrassing fact that Mark had already told his life story, leaving out all, or indeed any, good bits.


“G’day,” the man replied.

About The Author

Brought up in a relatively small town in Hertfordshire, C F White managed to do what most other residents try to do and fail—leave.


Studying at a West London university, she realised there was a whole city out there waiting to be discovered, so, much like Dick Whittington before her, she never made it back home and still endlessly searches for the streets paved with gold, slowly coming to the realisation they’re mostly paved with chewing gum. And the odd bit of graffiti. And those little circles of yellow spray paint where the council point out the pot holes to someone who is supposedly meant to fix them instead of staring at them vacantly whilst holding a polystyrene cup of watered-down coffee.


She eventually moved West to East along that vast District Line and settled for pie and mash, cockles and winkles and a bit of Knees Up Mother Brown to live in the East End of London; securing a job and creating a life, a home and a family.


Having worked in Higher Education for most of her career, a life-altering experience brought pen back to paper after she’d written stories as a child but never had the confidence to show them to the world. Having embarked on this writing malarkey, C F White cannot stop. So strap in, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride...


You can follow C F on Facebook and Twitter and check out her Website.

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