Saturday, 20 July 2019

Release Blitz - 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.

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.




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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Friday, 19 July 2019

Review Tour - Shake The Stars by V.L. Locey





Length: 100,000 words approx.

Cover Design: Sloan J Designs

Publisher: Gone Writing Publishing

Blurb

Spending time in the Poconos with his family was the last thing Dane Forrester wanted to do over the summer. He had dreams of spending his last break touring Europe and gathering story ideas for his upcoming creative writing classes before heading to college. Maybe even finding that elusive first love in a small café in Paris, or along the Rhine, or even in a sultry villa in Italy. But no, he was stuck at the Silver Fir Lodge with his family where his dreams of romance and passion would wither and die a slow painful death, or so he imagined.


When all seemed lost, the budding wordsmith is saved—in more than one sense—by Khalid Novak, a lifeguard at the lodge’s pool. Khalid is two years older, a bit more sophisticated, and the most incredibly alluring thing Dane has ever seen. The two young men find themselves joyously wound in a searing romance that teaches Dane that love can be wildly intense yet fleeting so one should revel in it when the discovery is made.


Can this summer romance survive the chill of autumn as well as the winds of time?

My Two Pennies' Worth

This is a beautiful story of two parts. A first love tale, with the all the highs and lows that entails, including the rejection of coming out, the time stamp on a summer holiday relationship, and eventual heartbreak. But it's also a second chance romance that spans a decade and is when the romance really comes into its own.

The author writes a stonking sports story but often it's these non-sports stories that are her real gems. Here's another to add to the collection.









USA Today Bestselling Author V.L. Locey – Penning LGBT hockey romance that skates into sinful pleasures.


V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, Torchwood and Dr. Who, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a pair of geese, far too many chickens, and two steers.


When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in one hand and a steamy romance novel in the other.






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Blog Tour & review - Treasure Trail by Morgan Brice



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Book Title: Treasure Trail

Author: Morgan Brice

Cover Artist: Lou Harper

Genre/s: Urban Fantasy MM paranormal romance

Trope/s: Second chance, friends to lovers, starting over, psychic/medium and a cop, mystery, action/adventure, 

Themes: Taking a chance on love, running from your past, trust, friendship, found family

Heat Rating: 4 flames




Buy Links





When a missing antique shows up under mysterious circumstances, Ben and Erik are plunged into danger as a cursed hotel’s long-ago scandals resurface. Someone wants those secrets to stay buried—and is willing to add Ben and Erik to the death toll to keep the past hidden.



Blurb



Erik Mitchell traveled the world uncovering art fraud and relic theft, which pitted him against spoiled billionaires, unscrupulous collectors, mobsters and cartels. He worked with law enforcement across the US and Europe, but a sting goes wrong and Erik ends up injured, then returns to find his partner cheating. Erik decides to stop globe trotting and buy an antique shop in scenic Cape May, NJ, rebuild his life, and nurse his broken heart.



Undercover Newark cop Ben Nolan went down in a hail of bullets when a bust went sideways, after a tip-off from a traitor inside the department. After he recovers, he spends a couple of years as a private investigator, only to tire of seeing the worst of human nature. So when his aunt offers him the chance to take over her rental real estate business in Cape May, it seems too good to be true. Now if he could just believe he could ever be lucky again in love.



When a missing antique shows up under mysterious circumstances, Ben and Erik are plunged into danger as a cursed hotel’s long-ago scandals resurface. Someone wants those secrets to stay buried—and is willing to add Ben and Erik to the death toll to keep the past hidden.

My Two Pennies' Worth

I really enjoyed this first book in the start of a new series by Morgan Brice. The series and characters might be new but they are connected to the overall universe of magic and paranormal that the author has created.

Erik is friends with Simon Kincade (from Badlands) and has similar touch magic skills to Simon's cousin. Ben it turns out knows someone that knows Travis (who appears in both the Badlands series and the Witchbane series).

The style of the stories are similar as you would expect but this time the focus is on art and antiques as befitting Erik's past and woo-woo skills.

The romance is believable (even the fact that things happen so quickly) and the mystery is solid.

Looking forward to reading more in this series.









Excerpt



“What the hell did you pack in these boxes? Rocks?” Sean Meirlach shifted the heavy moving box on his shoulder. Sean looked and sounded like the Jersey Shore guy he was, brawny and blunt.



“Books,” Ben replied. “You know, those rectangular paper things? Ever read one?” The teasing was good-natured. Ben Nolan had spent most of his summers working for his cousin’s mom, and they were thick as thieves. Which, Ben reflected, was a poor analogy for an ex-cop-turned-former-private-investigator. And now, at least for this summer, a vacation rental manager in beautiful Cape May, New Jersey.



“Yes, dumbass. I’ve read lots of books. And not just the ones with pictures in them,” Sean said with a smirk. Sean played up his bad boy persona, but Ben knew his cousin had plenty of brains, hustle, and street smarts.



“Good to know. I’d hate to have to break it to Aunt Meg that her favorite son was illiterate.”



Sean snorted. “Favorite son? I’m her onlyson, asshole. And she’s already pissed at me because I just want to run my food truck in Wildwood. Which is why you’re doing me a huge solid, taking over the family business.”



“Whoa, there! Hold up. I’m here for the summer. Justthe summer. I said I’d see how it went. No promises.”



“Just the summer? You sure brought a lot of shit with you if it’s just for the summer.” Sean set the box down a little harder than necessary on a table in the upstairs apartment over the rental office, which would be Ben’s home for the next few months. Ben dumped the tangle of odds and ends he had carried up from the rented van and flopped onto the couch. He had put most of his things in storage when he left Newark and brought what he didn’t want to do without, or what the apartment didn’t have. Sean had driven the truck up to Cape May, while Ben drove his black Mustang, packed to the roof.



He owed Sean a lot for helping him move—and, if truth be told, for pushing him as the perfect candidate for the job to Aunt Meg.



“Don’t screw up the master plan, dude!” Sean chided. “You’re sick of the big city and getting shot. And I need a little of that good life, somewhere not quite as buttoned-down.” He reached for a bottle of water and took a swig. “I love this town, but I need to stretch my wings. And the vibe in Wildwood is different. People come for the Pier and the Boardwalk and the rides. More singles, not just families. And they all have to eat!”



Sean’s truck, Put A Ring On It, specialized in kickass onion rings, which went on everything—burgers, hot dogs, chicken wings, even chili. The combination of great food, a catchy name, and Sean’s outgoing personality had made for a very successful launch.





  About the Author


Morgan Brice is the romance pen name of bestselling author Gail Z. Martin. Morgan writes urban fantasy male/male paranormal romance, with plenty of action, adventure and supernatural thrills to go with the happily ever after. Gail writes epic fantasy and urban fantasy, and together with co-author hubby Larry N. Martin, steampunk and comedic horror, all of which have less romance, more explosions. Characters from her Gail books make frequent appearances in secondary roles in her Morgan books, and vice versa.

On the rare occasions Morgan isn’t writing, she’s either reading, cooking, or spoiling two very pampered dogs.

Other books include Witchbane, Burn, Dark Rivers, and Badlands. Watch for more in these series, plus new series coming soon!

Join my Worlds of Morgan Brice Facebook Group! Get the early scoop on upcoming books and new series, see new covers first, enjoy insider news and special contests and giveaways! Plus it’s where I get my beta readers and launch team! 



Author Links
















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your choice of ebook from Morgan's backlist and a $10 Amazon gift card.




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AUDIOBOOK REVIEW TOUR - Lucky Town by Morgan Brice


AUDIOBOOK REVIEW TOUR


Book Title: Lucky Town (Badlands #1.5)

Author: Morgan Brice

Publisher: Tantor

Narrator: Kale Williams

Release Date: March 29, 2019

Genre: Urban Fantasy, MM paranormal romance

Trope/s: Established relationship, second chances

Themes: Commitment and trust

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 3 hours and 9 minutes

It’s the second in a series, but it can be read alone




Can they do right by ghosts past, present, and yet to come without ending up in the crosshairs of a killer for Christmas?





Blurb

Psychic medium Simon Kincaide and his boyfriend, Myrtle Beach homicide Detective Vic D'Amato, find that the only thing more frightening than murder might be navigating their first holiday season as a couple.

A trip back to Pittsburgh to spend Thanksgiving with Vic's large, exuberant family means dodging old frenemies and a bitter ex-boyfriend. A cold case comes back to haunt Vic when a murdered woman's ghost begs Simon for justice. Then a new murder back in Myrtle Beach looks suspiciously familiar, and the dead man's ghost isn't playing nice.

When Simon gets a vision of the next victim before the crime occurs, he realizes that all the murders are supernaturally linked. Catching the murderer will take his psychic sleuthing skills along with Vic's street smarts to avert a tragedy.

Can they do right by ghosts past, present, and yet to come without ending up in the crosshairs of a killer for Christmas?

My Two Pennies' Worth

First up if you've not read the first book never fear, there's enough background in this story for it to be read as a stand-alone.

This one deals with the guys going back to Pittsburgh to meet Vic's family and stumbling over both Vic's ex and a couple of disgruntled ghosts. This takes place around Thanksgiving and Christmas and we see the guys' relationship evolving. There's some great 'ghost' busting.

Well written and fun. Great narration.






Buy Links





About the Author


Morgan Brice is the romance pen name of bestselling author Gail Z. Martin. Morgan writes urban fantasy male/male paranormal romance, with plenty of action, adventure and supernatural thrills to go with the happily ever after. Gail writes epic fantasy and urban fantasy, and together with co-author hubby Larry N. Martin, steampunk and comedic horror, all of which have less romance, more explosions. Characters from her Gail books make frequent appearances in secondary roles in her Morgan books, and vice versa.

On the rare occasions Morgan isn’t writing, she’s either reading, cooking, or spoiling two very pampered dogs.

Other books include Witchbane, Dark Rivers, Badlands, Lucky Town, The Rising, Treasure Trail. Watch for more in these series, plus new series coming soon!

Join my Worlds of Morgan Brice Facebook Group! Get the early scoop on upcoming books and new series, see new covers first, enjoy insider news and special contests and giveaways! Plus it’s where I get my beta readers and launch team!



Author Links















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Review Tour - Chef On Top (Sizzling In The Kitchen #3) by MJ O'Shea





Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK | Universal Link

Cover Design: LC Chase

Sizzling In The Kitchen Series

Book #1 - Chef In The Wild - Amazon US | Amazon UK | Universal Link

Book #2 - Chef Vs Chef - Amazon US | Amazon UK | Universal Link


Blurb

Chef Jake Casey has never been what you’d call… liked. By anyone. He was the odd outcast son of the town drunk, and he’s spent his adult life doing everything he can to be nothing like his father. If that meant stomping on a few dozen toes, so be it. But contrary to popular belief, he is human. It gets a little old being alone all the time. When he lands a new job on the other side of the country, Jake decides he’s going to change. New city, new restaurant, new Jake.


It’s going pretty well until his first and only friend’s ex shows up with a fiancĂ© in tow. Ty is horrified. Jake might not have much practice with the friend thing, but he decides he’ll do what everyone in the movies always does – he offers to be Ty’s fake boyfriend. It can’t go wrong. Right?


Ty Caldecott knows better. His life isn’t a teen rom-com and situations like these always end up in humiliation. But the prospect of seeing Taran every day with that ring shining on his finger makes Ty want to vomit. Ty doesn’t want to look like a pining loser, so he tells Jake he’s in.


It can’t go wrong.




Right?

My Two Pennies' Worth

This was a sweet and gentle read with an 'enemies' to friends to lovers style story line. There was no angst, just an palate cleansing, easy read. And I really enjoyed it.

Jake, Baldwin's ex-nemesis, has an epiphany and it turns out his unapproachable and unlikeable exterior is hiding a vulnerable and soft-hearted soul. Jake certainly stole my heart.









MJ O’Shea has never met a music festival, paintbrush, or flower crown she can stay away from. She loves rainstorms and a perfect cup of tea, beach days, music, bright colors, and more than anything a cozy evening with a really great book.


She is from the Pacific Northwest. While she still lives there and loves it, MJ has the heart of a wanderer. So she puts all her dreams of far off places and extraordinary people in her books.


Except for every once in a while when she does what all travelers have to do on occasion… come home.








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Wednesday, 17 July 2019

Book Blitz - Aces Up by CJ Baty



Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK 

Length: 34,000 words approx.

Blurb 

Stiles Long emphatically did not want his lover, Michael O’Leary to go on the assignment he had been given. He didn’t care that Michael was an amazing poker player or that his commander thought Michael was the perfect man for the job. He almost lost Michael once. He couldn’t go through that again.


Michael needed this. He needed to prove that he was able to take care of himself. He didn’t need Stiles to take care of him. He needed to be Stiles’ equal. The poker game in Durango, Colorado was his chance to prove that. The fact that Stiles didn’t want him to go didn’t matter. Michael had to do this.


Lizzie Ferguson was Stiles partner in the Pinkerton Agency. She was a good agent. That didn’t mean, she had to like being dressed in satin and lace, showing way too much of her body to total strangers. Lizzie knew there was more going on at Maverick’s Saloon, and it might just cost her life.


None of them suspected that a simple poker game would turn into a deadly nightmare. If the three of them weren’t careful, one of them might just end up the next victim.




C. J. Baty lives in southwest Ohio. Her heart, however, lives in the mountains of Tennessee where she hopes to retire some day. The mountains have always provided her with inspiration and a soothing balm to the stresses of everyday life.

The dream of writing her own stories started in high school but was left on the back burner of life until her son introduced her to fan fiction and encouraged her to give it a try. She found that her passion for telling a story was still there and writing them down to share with others was much more thrilling than she had ever expected.


She has a loving and supportive family who don't mind fixing their own meals when she is in the middle of a story, and a network of friends who have encouraged and cheered her on in her quest of being an author.


One thing she has learned from life and she is often heard to say is: “You are never too old to follow your dream!”


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Release Blitz - 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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Release Blitz - Cold Pressed by Alison Temple




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

Length: 80,000 words approx.

Cover Design: Cate Ashwood Designs

Seacroft Series

Book 1 - Top Shelf - Amazon US | Amazon UK

Blurb

No strings attached is all Oliver can offer. He's hiding a broken heart that holds him back from diving into a new relationship, but he'll go on a blind date to make his family happy. Just one date, though; he doesn't have time for love to derail his plans.

Divorced and demoted to the night shift, Nick has his own problems. He's got an ex-wife who needs him and a kid with one foot in juvie. The last thing Nick needs is to butt heads—or other body parts—with a tempting hipster who wears a sad smile on their blind date.

Their chemistry can’t be denied, though, in an argument or in bed. No strings sex is uncomplicated and that's what Nick and Oliver need. But getting into bed together is one thing. Staying out of each other’s hearts soon becomes so much more complicated than either one imagined.

Cold Pressed is an 80k contemporary MM romance. It features a smoldering bisexual single dad, a broken-hearted hipster with a thing for beet juice, and a friends-with-benefits arrangement that blooms into the HEA you've been looking for.




Allison Temple has been a writer since the second grade, when she wrote a short story about a girl and her horse. Her grandmother typed it out for her and said she’s never seen so many quotation marks from a seven-year-old before. Allison took that as a challenge and has gone on to try to break her previous record in all her subsequent works.


Allison lives in Toronto with her very patient husband and the world’s neediest cat. She splits her free time between writing, community theater stage management, and traveling anywhere that has good wine. Tragically, this leaves no time to clean her house.


Newsletter (get two free shorts right now): https://allisontemplebooks.com/newsletter

Facebook Reader group: https://facebook.com/groups/allisonsalist

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B07B7P5591

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/allison-temple

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17490635.Allison_Temple

Twitter: https://twitter.com/allitemplebooks

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/allisontemplebooks/


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Cover Reveal - Gentleman Wolf by Joanna Chambers





Release Date: August 26 2019

Cover Design: Felix d'Eon

Blurb 

An elegant werewolf in Edinburgh...


Lindsay Somerville, the most elegant werewolf in Paris, has no great wish to return to his home city of Edinburgh, but when he learns that the cruel Duncan MacCormaic is on the Continent and hunting for him, he reluctantly agrees to go into hiding.


Duncan, who held Lindsay in abject captivity for decades after savagely transforming him with his bite, has been trying to find Lindsay since the day he escaped his prison a century before. If Duncan can find him, he has the power to compel Lindsay to obey his every command, so the more distance Lindsay can put between them, the better.


… on a mission...


While he’s in Edinburgh, Lindsay has been tasked with acquiring the “Naismith Papers”, the writings of a long-dead witchfinder. It should be a straightforward mission. All Lindsay has to do is charm an elderly book collector, Hector Cruikshank. But Cruikshank may not be all he seems—and there are others who want the papers.


… meets his match


As if that were not enough, while tracking down the Naismith Papers, Lindsay meets stubborn architect Drew Nicol. Although the attraction between them is intense, Nicol seems frustratingly determined to resist Lindsay’s advances. Somehow though, Lindsay can’t seem to accept Nicol’s rejection. Is he just moonstruck, or is Nicol bonded to him in ways he doesn’t yet understand?


About The Author

Joanna Chambers always wanted to write. She spent over 20 years staring at blank sheets of paper and despairing of ever writing a single word. In between staring at blank sheets of paper, she studied law, met her husband and had two children. Whilst nursing her first child, she rediscovered her love of romance and found her muse. Joanna lives in Scotland with her family and finds time to write by eschewing sleep and popular culture.




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