Release Blitz with ARC Reviews - Cursed (A Balance of Magic #2) by Jackie Keswick

 

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Cursed (A Balance of Magic #2)

Author: Jackie Keswick

Cover Artist: Jackie Keswick

Release Date: March 23, 2022

Genre: M/M Fantasy

Tropes: Friends to lovers, love vs. duty, soul mates, found family, worlds in peril, two against the world, hurt/comfort

Series Themes: the world is fragile, short-term decisions have long-term consequences, gifts are given for a reason

Heat Rating: 3 flames   

Length:  77 000 words

It is the second book in a trilogy.

The book does not end on a cliffhanger. Raijin and Sandro’s story ends on a HFN. The main story arc continues across all three books.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Universal Link

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  |  PayHip

Apple  |  B&N  |  Kobo

Two friends. Two worlds. A selfish desire that threatens them both.

Blurb

Two friends. Two worlds. A selfish desire that threatens them both.

Raijin killed a witch and found himself cursed.

Sandro went to Raijin's aid and became an assassin's target.

Neither expected that they would trigger the biggest upheaval their world had seen in a thousand years.

And that it needed the love between them to lift the curse.

Cursed, the second book in the Balance of Magic series, is a slow-burn m/m fantasy romance featuring friends-to-lovers who become soulmates, irate death gods, curses, inept, narcissistic politicians, curious, compassionate witches, and a found family.

My Two Pennies' Worth 

Another glorious book in this series.  Beautiful with glorious, intricate world building. This one is friends to lovers with the slowest of slow burns. 

Just lovely. 

Highly recommended. 

Excerpt 

France, Summer 1920

“Poplars and plane trees, beeches and birches, or a mountainside of firs.” Sandro stared into the bottom of his wine glass and tried to keep the misery at bay. “Is it really too much to wish for a few olive and lemon trees? I’ve not been near my grove in six years. Six years, Raijin!”

“I know.”

“What if they’ve dug it up?”

“Why would they?”

Sandro set the glass down. “To spite us,” he said.

Raijin stared at him.

“I know, I know. It’s not like me to think badly of people.” He waved a hand. “But what other interpretation is there for the way Tan Hao treats us? Every time we finish a task, he finds another one that keeps us from the base. Do you really think he does that to everyone?”

Raijin wisely kept his mouth shut.

Sandro was grateful. He’d never been a maudlin drunk, but the last six years had changed many things. Being prevented from visiting the only home he’d ever known… hurt. Even if he’d barely spent a day alone while the human world tore itself to pieces.

Maybe he shouldn’t complain. Especially not to Raijin. He hadn’t been home for far longer, but… He lifted a hand to summon the waiter and order another bottle of wine, when Raijin stopped him.

“Come along. I have an idea.”

“What kind?”

“The good kind.” Raijin smiled the soft, lopsided smile that Sandro had no defences against.

“Tell me.”

“In a moment.”

They paid for their meal and left the restaurant, wandering up the street towards their lodgings. They had their own courtyard garden, had food, and even wine, but Sandro had been too restless to stay home, and Raijin had indulged him.

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately.” He tried to express his gratitude.

“Doing what?”

“Indulging me. I’m… Ignore me.”

“Never.” Raijin unlocked the gate and ushered them into the place they’d made their base since the Armistice. It was clean, comfortable, and private. But it wasn’t home.

Sandro had no idea what Raijin meant to do, but he didn’t have to wonder long. As soon as he’d locked the gate behind them, Raijin took hold of his arm, opened the veil and tugged Sandro through.

Two steps later, scents of brine and citrus hit his nose. Soft, springy turf caressed his feet, and one look at the familiar trees had him fight back tears.

Raijin had brought them to the top of the Custodia base. Had given Sandro what he’d most needed: a visit to his grove of lemon trees.

If he could have touched all his trees at once, he’d have done so. Since he lacked that ability, he wrapped his arms around the nearest tree, and hummed.

The trees responded, impressions wrapping him up like a cloak: comings and goings, hot sun and sparkling raindrops, a storm from the east. Sandro soaked it all up like a starving man and shared his own experiences in turn.

After the first sharing was done, Sandro went from tree to tree, touching, checking, renewing his connection. When he joined Raijin at the centre of the grove and accepted the glass of wine Raijin had poured him, he hummed with green energy, his watcher sight as sensitive as it had never been before.

“I wish I could explain—” he began hesitantly.

Only for Raijin to wave it away. “It’s fine. You wanted to check on your family. I understand.”

Raijin wasn’t demonstrative.

But when he chose to make a point, he took Sandro’s breath away.

About the Author 

Jackie Keswick was born behind the Iron Curtain with itchy feet, a bent for rocks and a recurring dream of stepping off a bus in the middle of nowhere to go home. She's worked in a hospital and as the only girl with 52 men on an oil rig, spent a winter in Moscow and a summer in Iceland and finally settled in the country of her dreams with her dream team: a husband, a cat, a tandem, a hammer and a laptop.

Jackie loves unexpected reunions and second chances, and men who write their own rules. She blogs about English history and food, has a thing for green eyes, and is a great believer in making up soundtracks for everything, including her characters and the cat.

And she still hasn't found the place where the bus stops.

For questions and comments, not restricted to green eyes, bus stops or recipes for traditional English food, you can find Jackie Keswick in all the usual places

Blog/Website  |  Facebook group  |  Facebook page  |  Twitter 

Instagram  |  Newsletter Sign-up  |  TikTok  |  Patreon 

Giveaway 

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

a $10 Amazon gift card and an ebook of choice from the author's backlist

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Read around the Rainbow - My (dream) Writing Shack

I'm a member of Read around the Rainbow, a rag tag collection of authors who are part of or who write about all letters of the LGBTQ+ rainbow. Each month we'll be posing a question or subject up for discussion. As this is the first post, this month's topic is an easy one: Our ideal writing shack.  

For me this answer has two parts. First there’s the shack itself. Then there’s the shack’s location. 

The Shack

Beach hut in style. I'm talking British seaside beach hut, although probably more Sandbanks (very expensive and exclusive beachfront location in Dorset) than Margate (think Kiss me Quick hats, candy floss, and coach parties of tourists scoffing fish and chips and puking on the Mary Rose). Plenty of wood with the outside painted a pleasing pastel colour scheme in blue or green. Lots of sanded weathered beech on the inside. Bi-folding doors to let in lots of natural light and open up the cabin to the outside. 

Inside I’d need:

A desk to write at. 

A small kitchen area with facilities for hot drinks, a fridge stocked with health snacks and salads (*cough* chocolate *cough*), and a cold water tap (no need for hot water or a sink, I’ve no plans to do any washing up). 

A bookcase full of non-fiction for research purposes and a large cosy chair to curl up in and research/read. 

Pull down ladder leads up to a mezzanine floor with a thick comfy bedroll perfect for napping and star-gazing/cloud watching through the skylight. (Did I forget to mention the skylight? Oops, my bad.)

Then maybe a hanging egg chair out the front and a hot tub off to the side, because I need to soothe those sore writers’ muscles somehow and my own personal masseur seems a bit of an extravagance. 

The Location

For anyone who has read my bio this should come as no surprise. 

My ideal location for my writing shack would be on the coast. Ideally with steps leading down to the beach and sea but elevated so I get the full benefit of the view. 

Last year I went on holiday to Hayle on the northern coast of Cornwall. I'd love my writing shack to be up on the dunes there. 

 

Check out the posts from the other members of the RatR crew. 

AL Lester: Read Around the Rainbow: What's Your Ideal Writing Shack?

Nell Iris: Read Around the Rainbow: My Ideal Writing Shack

Ofelia Grand:  Read Around the Rainbow | Your Ideal Writing Shack

Fiona Glass

Amy Spector: Read Around the Rainbow: The Perfect Writing Shack? Coming Soon & Book Anniversary!

Ellie Thomas:  Read Around the Rainbow: My Ideal Writing Shack

Addison Albright: WEBRING ~ Read Around the Rainbow ~ What/Where is your ideal writing shack?

Release Blitz - Listen by RJ SCOTT

GLBTQ, MM, Single Dad Romance, adoption  

Genre: Single Dad Romance
Trope: Hate to Love, Adoption, Family
Released: 18 March 2022
Publisher: Love Lane Books
Series: Single Dads
Length: 67,000 words
Cover Design: Meredith Russell
Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/54009587-listen
All Buy Links can be found here: http://rjscott.co.uk/read-listen
Available – Wide Release
ISBN – 9781785642104

SERIES OVERVIEW

Single – rjscott.co.uk/read-single

Today – rjscott.co.uk/Read-Today

Promise – rjscott.co.uk/Read-Promise 

Always – rjscott.co.uk/Read-Always 

Listen – rjscott.co.uk/read-listen

Excerpt

“She’s fine.”

I wished he’d just let me talk. “I thought that—”

He didn’t even wait to hear what I was saying, exiting the room and slamming the door so hard the wall shook.

I stared at the space he’d been taking up as if it had all the answers. Five minutes, that was all that had passed in the aborted meeting, and I’d never witnessed such a range of emotions. I didn’t know how long I stared, but it was long enough to conclude that Nick Horner had lost his shit in a spectacular way. I picked up Hannah’s paperwork and shuffled it into a pile—lost in thought when the door flew open again—and Nick walked back in. He closed the door behind him and leaned there, his chin on his chest.

“Christ,” Nick muttered, then pressed his fingers to his forehead. 

“Mr. Horner?” I asked cautiously, not wanting to spark anything weird. There were only maybe five steps between us, and I was close enough to see his wet eyes—it wasn’t fear I was feeling, but compassion. “Nick?”

He winced when I used his name. Had I overstepped? Or was there something else going on? 

“Do you have a bathroom?” he asked.

I gestured to the end of the conference room, and he headed that way. I followed him a few steps, wondering if he needed something, confused as hell, and when he didn’t close the door but just splashed water on his face, I waited at the doorway for him to talk. 

“Do you need me to get anyone?” I asked.

He turned toward me so fast I took a step back. “No—I know there’s something going on with Hannah.” He pressed a wet hand to his chest and left a damp spot there. “I know in here that I’m letting her down because I can’t get my head straight, and she’s carrying a load I should be lifting.” He yanked paper towels from the supply and scrubbed his face, then threw them into the trash can. “I came back to apologize, but…” He pressed fingers to his temples and winced.

“Hannah is an exceptional student, and I just want what’s best for her.”

“I know that I’m failing at this, and if people find out how about her, how do you think this will look to them?” he asked tiredly, supporting his weight by gripping the vanity.

Wait? What? He was upset because he didn’t want people to know his daughter was struggling? “Sorry?” I was angry then. I couldn’t help it, and the irrational side of me spilled out all over him. “Are you saying you care more about your media profile than your daughter?”

“No. What?” He looked horrified. “That’s not what I meant. Of course, I don’t think that.”

“Really?”

“No! Yes. You don’t understand. There are people who think they know me and judge me for every goddamn move my family makes.”

His anger slipped, and in its place was a vulnerability so raw that I took a step closer and raised a hand. I didn’t know what I would do, touch him in reassurance, pat him, thump him for shouting at me? God knows, but he was confusing the hell out of me. 

“You don’t know what it’s like for everyone to be watching you all the time!” he said and then slumped.

About RJ SCOTT

RJ Scott, author of M/M romance.

Writing love stories with a happy ever after – cowboys, heroes, family, hockey, single dads, bodyguards

USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott has written over one hundred romance books. Emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, single dads, hockey players, millionaires, princes, bodyguards, Navy SEALs, soldiers, doctors, paramedics, firefighters, cops, and the men who get mixed up in their lives, always with a happy ever after.

She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing. The last time she had a week’s break from writing, she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a box of chocolates she couldn’t defeat.

RJ'S SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS 

Website – http://rjscott.co.uk 

Newsletter – http://rjscott.co.uk/rjnews 

Email – rj@rjscott.co.uk 

BookBub – http://bookbub.com/authors/rj-scott?follow=true 

Amazon – http://amazon.com/author/rj-scott 

Pinterest – http://pinterest.com/RJ_LoveLane/ 

Goodreads – http://goodreads.com/rjscott 

Instagram – http://instagram.com/rjscott_author/ 

Twitter – http://twitter.com/Rjscott_author 

Facebook Group – http://facebook.com/groups/Rjscott 

Facebook Author page – http://www.facebook.com/author.rjscott 

BingeBooks – https://bingebooks.com/profile/rjscott 

Tik Tok – https://www.tiktok.com/@rjscottauthor? 

 

99c Book Blast - High Alert by Becca Seymour

 

99c BOOK BLAST

Book Title: High Alert

Author: Becca Seymour

Publisher: Rainbow Tree Publishing

Cover Artist: BookSmith Design

Release Date: August 11, 2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Friends to lovers, best friend’s brother, small town

Themes: Firefighter, natural disasters, hurt/comfort

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length:  64 000 words/344 pages

It is a standalone book and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

99c Sale for a Limited Time

Also available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link    |  Amazon US  |   Amazon UK 

It’s a tale as old as time.

Blurb 

I’ve crushed on my brother’s best friend since I sprouted hairs on the unmentionables. Once upon a time, he was straight, until he wasn’t… and talk about bad timing. 

And when we’re finally at a place for me to make my move, sexy rural firefighter Dan clams up and acts weird and I’m left with pants that are too tight and my heart feeling bruised… but he’s a good friend and I’m grateful he’s in my life.

Because of course Dan is a good guy. 

Though him being “good” and ridiculously easy on the eyes and possibly the best man I know only makes me want him more. 

When we’re thrust into a situation that brings both of us close to danger, it’s hardly the time to be chasing first kisses or finally acting on my crush. But Dan doesn’t seem to mind. 

I just know that when the stakes are high and emotions are running wild, sometimes you have to show your hand and go all in. 

And that’s exactly what I plan to do.

Excerpt 

The squeal of brakes had me exhaling. Any minute now, he’d be stepping out of my brother’s Toyota. With just a few metres and steel between us, I had no idea how to react, not with the nervous excitement thrumming in my veins.

The doors opened, and movement caught my attention. Dan Madison followed after my brother, his eyes already on mine. 

His hand tightened around the pack of beers he carried, and pink coloured his cheeks. 

But that was likely my imagination making a much bigger deal about this reunion than it really was.

Funny, the things you noticed, though. He had new glasses. They were thicker rimmed than any style I’d seen him wear before. He rocked the whole hot geek vibe. Killed it, in fact. 

Though there was nothing geeky about him in the traditional sense. Not when he worked with his hands for a living as a carpenter, and I doubted so much had changed that he wasn’t digitally challenged beyond a game on the Xbox. 

It took everything in me not to allow my gaze to eat him up.

Two years—however brief on that one-week visit home—of not working side by side with the man when I talked him into fitting me some new doors. 

Two years of not listening to his addictive laugh that made me smile so big my face hurt. 

And two years since once again, he’d left me disappointed when he’d waved goodbye and headed back to the city—and his boyfriend—where he’d set himself up with a new life away from the Sunshine Coast hinterland. 

Never once had I told him about how I felt, the right time never seeming to arrive. If I’d known he was gay before he’d left town when he was twenty, perhaps I would have been more obvious with my crushing. At eighteen, I’d been very definitely out. But Dan’s sexuality came as a surprise. Craig had dropped that bombshell when I was in my second year of uni. 

And hadn’t that been a kick in the gut, swiftly followed by elation. For the first time ever, I’d considered that just maybe I had a chance.

The chance never came, though.

There was no point when we lived a couple of hours apart. Long-distance wasn’t something I thought I could handle, even when it was for my brother’s best friend, the man who’d snagged a piece of my heart when my balls first dropped and my dick had thickened watching Gerard Butler in 300.

There was also the fact he’d had a boyfriend. Had been the exciting word of the day. Almost a year ago, they’d split. 

The gravel under his feet grew louder, and his gaze remained fixed to mine. Barely a metre apart, and he stopped, shifting the six-pack to his side. 

“Hey, Ross.” Pretty light-brown orbs peered back at me, wide and just as mesmerising as I remembered. “Bloody hell, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

I grinned, uncertain of the words that might fall out of my mouth.

I didn’t need to worry. In Dan’s next breath, he said, “Get your arse over here already and give me a hug.”

I ignored my brother’s snort as he snagged the beer from Dan and walked on past us.

A deep exhale escaped my lungs as I stepped forwards and pulled him into my arms. I wrapped myself around him, holding him tight. The feel of his large limbs, strong and firm, wrapped around my own frame made my heart sing.

“Good to see you too, mate. About time you made the move back to civilisation.” My grin remained wide when I eased away, his snort making me chuckle.

“Civilisation, huh?”

“Yep. You better believe it. You know, a Subway opened in town, and Bunnings got an extension. Civilisation at its best.”

Dan’s laugh washed over me like a familiar hug, the sensation warming me, much like the log fire already built in my sitting room did.

“Come on.” I gripped his arms, giving a happy squeeze. “Let’s go and grab one of those beers.” 

About the Author 

Becca Seymour is the #1 gay romance best seller of the True-Blue series, having sold more than seventy thousand copies of book one in the series so far. Known for “steamy and endearing” and “emotionally profound love stories” (InD'tale Magazine) her books have been nominated for multiple RONE Awards.

Becca lives and breathes all things book related. Usually with at least three books being read and two WiPs being written at the same time, Becca’s life is merrily hectic. She tends to do nothing by halves so happily seeks the craziness and busyness life offers.

Living on her small property in Queensland with her human family as well as her animal family of cows, chooks, and dogs, Becca appreciates the beauty of the world around her and is a believer that love truly is love.

Author Links

https://linktr.ee/beccaseymour

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Cover Reveal - Flare (Style Series #1) by Jay Hogan

 Title: Flare: Style Series #1

Author: Jay Hogan

Genre: Gay Romance

Add to your TBR here: https://readerlinks.com/l/2360942 

Preorder here: https://readerlinks.com/l/2360962 

What to expect…

Fashion Fashion Fashion

Skulduggery in the fashion world

Found family

Handcuffs

Humour

Age gap

Opposites Attract

Hurt/comfort

Fashion designer with a painful past meets English professor who wouldn’t know a fitted shirt if it slapped him in the face.

Blurb: 

FLARE

My own fashion label. The shiny new sign above the door means everything. My dream. My life. Worth every gruelling hour I’ve spent making it happen. Nothing can stop me now. Not the fear. Not the nightmares. Not my sad excuse for a love life. And certainly not Beckett Northcott, the sexy English professor who wouldn’t know a fitted shirt if it slapped him in the face and who has flannel down to an art form.

I don’t date for a very good reason, and yet Beck makes me want to break every damn one of my rules. But with my debut at Fashion Week looming, my business in trouble, and Beckett Northcott peeling open my terrified heart to a future I’ve never imagined, the threads of my carefully woven life are unravelling at the seams.

I could walk away. Or I could take a chance that Beck and I might just have what it takes to fashion a new life, together. A fresh design from a new cloth.

#jayhoganauthor #elizaraeservices #coverreveal #newmmseries #StyleSeries #mmromancebooks #mmromancenovel #mmbooks #tbr #comingsoon

Find Jay in all the places: ​​https://www.jayhoganauthor.com/landingpage 

Cover Reveal - Yours, Everlasting by Beth Bolden

COVER REVEAL

Book Title: Yours, Everlasting

Author: Beth Bolden

Cover Artist: Sleepy Fox Studio

Release Date: April 6, 2022

Genre: Fantasy MM Romance

Tropes: Opposites attract, road trip romance, secret admirer

Themes: Good versus evil, staying true to one’s self, redemption

Length: 92 000 words

Heat Rating:  4 flames      

It is not a standalone story. It is book 2 in the Enchanted Folklore series and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Pre-Order Link

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  

Blurb

Evrard . . .Rhys . . .Evander . . .

Evander has gone by many names in the last thousand years. He’s lived almost as many lives, using his immortality and his unique shapeshifting abilities to become anyone and anything. His goal was simple: to eradicate the malevolent magic threatening all humankind.

After finally succeeding, Evander feels he’s earned a justifiable and peaceful retirement. But the past never stays buried, and he discovers that it’s been watching him . . .

Marcos, the Guardian of War, has waited, he’s observed, he’s admired, and he’s yearned. But now it’s time for him to step into the light and let Evander see him for who he truly is.

But fate is fickle, destinies aren’t set in stone, and as much as Marcos hopes Evander might be his, it will be the fight of his life to not only win Evander’s heart, but to defeat the evil that once again raises its sinister head.

Excerpt 

Rhys was in an exceedingly bad temper.

First, Marcos had been incredibly high-handed, demanding that they postpone their journey for at least a few days, in order to be “properly” outfitted with supplies.

Rhys had brought a handful of coins with him, enough for some periodic lodging and food along the journey, but based on the standards Marcos was insisting on, it wouldn’t be nearly enough.

And now, they had come to this dirty, ugly tavern, with its watered-down mead and slop for food. As for the lodgings, they were hardly an improvement. The bed was small and narrow, the mattress filled with lumpy straw that Rhys did not want to question the origin of. And to make things worse, there was only one of these uncomfortable beds.

Marcos insisted that he take it. “I will be keeping watch,” Marcos said, sliding a rough piece of wood across the door. “You can take the bed.”

And now, the very worst part of this entire situation was that Rhys was required to be grateful that Marcos had been so generous.

Rhys did not want to be grateful.

He wanted to be angry—but it was difficult to be angry with someone who offered you the only bed in the room, no matter how poor it was.

Rhys shifted to the other side of the mattress, trying to find an area without lumps, but was unsuccessful. He sighed, not even bothering to temper his frustration.

“Trouble sleeping?” Marcos asked kindly.

Even in the dark gloom, Rhys could see where he had settled—opposite the doorway, back against the rugged plank walls of the room, booted feet drawn up to his chest. Rhys could even see the wry expression on his face.

He’d always enjoyed his ability to see in the dark, always considered it one of his favorite gifts, but now he wished he could do it a little less well.

“The bed is lumpy,” he said, aware of how ungrateful he sounded. He could very easily be on the floor. Marcos was still, as far as Rhys knew, a full-fledged Guardian. He could have overpowered Rhys in an instant, with merely a crook of his fingers, never mind all those very impressive muscles.

But he hadn’t.

Rhys still had not figured out what ulterior motive Marcos had for accompanying him, and that annoyed him most of all.

“You could always transform. The hay might suit you better if you were of an equine descent,” Marcos teased.

Up until now, Rhys was unaware that Marcos teased. This was new. But then, even though they had served on the Conclave together for hundreds and hundreds of years, he had never really known Marcos. He’d kept to himself, more at home on a battlefield or in the armory than he was the Castle at the Top of the World.

“I certainly will not,” Rhys said firmly. “I will . . . adjust.”

He’d slept in far worse. Admittedly, not in some time. He’d gotten spoiled and lax. But at the very beginning, when he’d first been banished to the surface, there had been some lean, cruel years.

“Then I suggest you do,” Marcos said. “We have a long journey ahead, and there will be little time for resting after we leave here.”

Rhys turned over, plumping the straw underneath him, and attempted to banish the questions that kept swirling through him. Particularly all the questions he had about Marcos.

He’d just managed to lull himself into a relaxed state that at least approximated sleep when he heard a rustling outside the front door.

Not a rustling. A scratching.

About the Author 

A lifelong Pacific Northwester, Beth Bolden has just recently moved to North Carolina with her supportive husband. Beth still believes in Keeping Portland Weird, and intends to be just as weird in Raleigh.

Beth has been writing practically since she learned the alphabet. Unfortunately, her first foray into novel writing, titled Big Bear with Sparkly Earrings, wasn’t a bestseller, but hope springs eternal. She’s published twenty-three novels and seven novellas.

Author Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |   BookBub

Instagram  |  Newsletter Sign-up

Giveaway 

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

a $20 Amazon gift card

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Release Blitz - Style of Love (Gay 4 Renovations Book #1) by AJ Sherwood

 

NEW RELEASE • KINDLE UNLIMITED • GAY CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE

Title: Style of Love  

Series: Gay 4 Renovations Book #1

Amazon:https://readerlinks.com/l/2340743

Synopsis:

Asher’s dream job: Interior design – check.

His dream boyfriend: Park Bo Gum – not check. Sadly.

Straight as a board, childhood bff Zar: check

Zar becoming his boyfriend: che–wait, what?!

Tags:

Oh look a contemporary romance, GFY, Best friends to lovers, Dumbasses to lovers, not so much slowburn as two idiots standing around on fire, emotional baggage check, HGTV meets BL, family of choice, Asher needs a better family, Zar’s will adopt him, healthy choice making (and some impulsive ones), no angst here only cuddles, best friends giving The Talk, yes that one, Gage hates -coughlovescough- them, tropey tropes a lot, yaoi fangirls as co-workers leads to interesting situations, and sexy photoshoots, best supporting character goes to the dog, small town, Asher and Zar are so obvious there is a bet riding on them, Zar uses handcuffs for not sexy reasons, at least the first time, only one sledgehammer was sacrificed in the making of this book

Trigger warning: Toxic family members

Excerpt 

Gage and I went to lunch afterwards, meeting at our favorite Chinese joint. As I waited for my order to arrive, he sat and looked me dead in the eye.

“You look tired, and it’s barely eleven.”

“God, don’t tell me I looked like that in front of clients.” I resisted the urge to get up and run for the bathroom mirror.

“No, it’s not obvious. Takes someone who knows you well.”

I relaxed in relief. “Well, you’ve known me since I was in diapers, so I guess you qualify. Truth is, Mom called me on the way over there.”

Gage slumped back in the chair, almost horizontal. “God, is she on that kick again?”

“She is. I think the whole family is. How many times do I have to come out to them before they get it?”

“I think they’re actively choosing to find other reasons for you not dating women. They’re not comfortable thinking of you with a guy, so they find mental ways around it.”

It sounded like a pretty accurate analysis. But then, Gage knew my family well, as we’d grown up next door to each other. We’d been in and out of each other’s houses our entire lives, despite him being two years older.

“After eight years, though, I’m out of patience. And tactics. I honestly don’t know what else to say or do to get through to them. Their latest tactic was trying to convince me to work for Adam at the dress shop.”

Gage’s expression turned blank. “How does selling wedding dresses make you straight?”

“No, think like them,” I corrected wearily. My mouth wanted to curl up in protest. “If I’m selling wedding dresses, then I’m around women all day. I’ll forget my gayness or some crap. That, and I’ll have a ‘steady’ income.”

“Uh…what? You have a steady income now.”

“But they don’t believe that.”

Gage kept staring at me, a man waiting for me to make sense.

“I don’t know what else to tell you.” I shrugged. “They don’t. They think I spend every dime I make as soon as I make it. The fact that I have a nice house and car and all of that makes no impact on them. They honestly think Adam is in a better financial situation.”

“Okay, now that’s insulting. I’m actually insulted for you.” Gage really did look it, too. “Because if you’re in a bad financial situation, then do they assume I am too? We work at the same company. We make the same amount of money. I’m a fucking structural engineer. Do they assume I’m making piss-poor money and then lying about it?”

“Oh snap, I didn’t think of it from that perspective. I don’t think they have either.” I pondered the situation for a second. “I think it’s more that I’m an interior designer, so therefore I can’t be making much money. I think that’s as far as the thought went. They have no faith that anyone in the arts can do well.”

“I,” Gage announced, “am going to crash your parents’ place for dinner and ream them out. And straighten them out. How dare they think so poorly of us.”

I grinned in delight. Gage when mad was like an orator. He could preach a sinner into confession.

“Do it. Let me be a fly on the wall, I don’t want to miss this.”

“I think you should watch. I know you hate arguing—”

“I’m entirely happy watching you doing the arguing for me. No problem.”

Gage gave me a satisfied grunt. He had a very evil look in his eye. “I think this has been a long time coming. Your parents might have good intentions, but my god am I tired of their methods. I’ve found it frustrating just watching you fight this out with them. I can at least prove without a shadow of a doubt that you’re doing great financially and get that argument settled.”

“Please and thank you. Let me know when you come up with a good tactic for how to convince them I’m gay.”

“Get a boyfriend.”

I stared at him, honestly a little miffed. Like I didn’t want a boyfriend. Like I hadn’t tried a thousand dating apps in the past three years. Even Grindr, god help me.

I threw it back at him. “Date me, then.”

My oldest friend didn’t even bat a blue eye. “I’m officially off the market. No one bought me, I just expired. Go date Zar.”

“Pfft, like our totally straight friend would date me.” I groaned and slouched in my chair. “Come to think of it, are you even interested in dating? I haven’t seen you with anyone since college.”

“I haven’t found anyone worth dating since college, either. I’d say I was picky, but…I’m just not interested in hookups. That scene got old quick.”

I nodded in agreement. I was with him on that one. “What we both want is a stable, sweet relationship.”

“With hot sex.” Gage sighed, slouching with me. “I guess that’s a tall order.”

“Apparently. Our dating life aside, we have a meeting in about”—I checked the time on my phone—“forty-five minutes. We’d better eat quickly and get over to the office.”

Gage slouched a little more. “The only way for me to get through the rest of the day is thinking of tonight. A movie in the park while getting drunk is just what today ordered. What are the odds Riggs has paperwork he wants me to fill out?”

I snorted. “I don’t take sure bets.”

More from the Author can be found here:https://www.amazon.com/AJ-Sherwood/e/B07JKC9QSY/

About the Author:

AJ Sherwood believes in happily ever afters, magic, dragons, good men, and dark chocolate. She’s often dreams at night of delectable men doing sexy things with each other. In between writing multiple books (often at the same time) she pets her cats, plays with her dogs, and attempts insane things like aerial yoga.

She currently resides in Michigan with aforementioned cats and dogs.

 

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