Monday, April 30, 2018

Medley by Layla Reyne - Release Day Blitz with Excerpt and Giveaway


With Medley, Layla Reyne combines love, self-discovery, swimming, and the excitement of the Olympics in to one stellar event. I loved Jacob and Bas’s story. --Anna Zabo, author of Syncopation

Medley by Layla Reyne

Series: Changing Lanes #2  

Will the race for gold cost them their hearts?

Publisher: Self-Publish

Release Date: April 30 (Print & Ebook)

Length (Print & Ebook): Approx 270 pages

Subgenre: MM Romance, Bisexual Romance, Contemporary Romance, Sports Romance, New Adult Romance

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Book synopsis:

Sebastian Stewart was never Mr. Dependable; he was more the good-time guy who only wanted to swim, party, and ink tattoos. Until he cost his team the Olympic gold four years ago. Bas is determined to do right this time around—by his medley relay team and his rookie mentee.

Jacob Burrows is in over his head. The Olympic experience—from the hazing, to the endless practices, to the unrelenting media—makes the shy nineteen-year-old’s head spin. He’s trying to be everything to everyone while trying not to fall for his gorgeous tattooed teammate who just gets him—gets his need to fix things, his dorky pirate quips, and his bisexuality.

When Jacob falters under the stress, threatening his individual races and the medley relay gold, he needs Bas’s help to escape from drowning. Bas, however, fearing a repeat of his mistakes four years ago, pushes Jacob away, sure he’ll only let Jacob down. But the only path to salvaging gold is for Jacob to finally ask for what he needs—the heart of the man he loves—and for Bas to become the dependable one.

“How can you be your best when you’re not sure if your best will measure up? That’s the dilemma facing Bas and Jacob, as they deal with the immense pressure of swimming for Olympic gold while also trying to sort out their tangled hearts.” --Layla Reyne


Excerpt:

Lawyer, priest, shrink.
Maybe bartender.
Ask someone to name their confessor and those were the usual suspects.
Bas would argue tattoo artist for the last spot in the top five. Humming needle in hand, he’d heard more than a few confessions over the years.
From the second a client stepped into his shop, they told a story. The design they picked. How much liquid courage it took. The tale of joy or woe that spilled from their lips after the first shock of the needle. Their reaction when it was done—relief, pain, regret, pleasure.
He’d heard almost every story.
In love, in lust, in rebellion, in hate, in freedom, in chains.
But he still couldn’t figure out the story that’d nagged him most the past ten days. He swiveled on the stool in the rented studio, droplets of dark ink splattering his worn jeans. “You gonna give me something to go on, Pup?”
Straddling the fancy tattoo-massage chair, Jacob laid a cheek in the cradle and glanced to his side. Mint green eyes, tequila-hazy, peered out from under long burnished lashes. “This was your idea, not mine.”
Maybe there was the start of a story. Why did his nineteen-year-old teammate have a fake ID, and why was he so friendly with Mr. Cuervo? Was it the same story as countless other college undergraduates?
Bas didn’t think so.
Jacob’s eyes slipped shut again, lips turning up in a faint smile. “You said you needed to get out of there and work.” He shrugged his bare left shoulder, the one closest to Bas. The breaststroker’s upper back was wide, like most swimmers’, his delts and lats hard and lean beneath suntanned skin. Not yet fully developed, given his age, but stronger than most. “So do what you need,” Jacob said. “Work it out.”
There.
There was the start of the story.


About Layla Reyne:

Author Layla Reyne was raised in North Carolina and now calls San Francisco home. She enjoys weaving her bi-coastal experiences into her stories, along with adrenaline-fueled suspense and heart pounding romance. When she’s not writing stories to excite her readers, she downloads too many books, watches too much television, and cooks too much food with her scientist husband, much to the delight of their smushed-face, leftover-loving dogs. Layla is a member of Romance Writers of America and its Kiss of Death and Rainbow Romance Writers chapters. She was a 2016 RWA® Golden Heart® Finalist in Romantic Suspense.

Connect with Layla Reyne:




Giveaway: win 1 of 3 ecopies of any back catalog ebook by Layla Reyne 


Love You So Madly by Tara Lain - Cover Reveal with Excerpt



Excited to be able to share the cover for LOVE YOU SO MADLY,  the second book in the Love You So series!

Will Ben give up a lover who drives a Ferrari for one who rides the bus?




Love You So Madly
(Love You So Series, Bk 2)
By Tara Lain

Blurb:
Ben Shane has it all… and he’d like to give some of it back. While he loves his job heading a foundation that funds worthy causes around the world, his engagement to one of America’s wealthiest men leaves him feeling more like a trophy wife than a valued partner. The first warning that his relationship might not be designed to last is his irresistible lust for Dusty Kincaid, the golden-haired, bright-eyed handyman for his company.

Though Dusty is odd for a twenty-three-year-old—no liquor, no sugar, and he can’t even drive—the more Ben gets to know Dusty, the more he admires him. But is Ben going to give up a guy who drives a Ferrari for one who takes the bus? He must be mad. Dusty knows he and Ben can never work. 

After all, Ben’s perfect… and Dusty isn’t. But Ben might surprise everyone with proof that he’s only madly in love.



Available for pre-order at 



Release Date: 
May 29, 2018 


Excerpt
“What happened? When you came out, I mean?”
“Some friends dropped me. Some didn’t. I got quietly pushed off the baseball team, even though I was a really good player.” He felt his lips turn up. “But I didn’t care. My folks had already guessed, so little drama there, and the boy I liked, liked me back. Oh yeah. He had a fair amount of experience for a sixteen-year-old, and he spent the summer teaching me what all my adolescent hormones were for. I didn’t mind at all.” He looked up at Dusty, who gazed at him with glassy eyes. He slowly wet his lips. Ben cleared his throat. “Uh, what about you? When did you come out?”
“Oh.” He raised his shoulders and dropped them. “Never, I guess. I always knew, so I just told people and that was all.”
Ben mimicked Dusty’s words from earlier. “Did you have a really tough time in high school?”
A look of pain crossed his face. “Not because I was gay, really.” He sucked a breath. “Back to work?” He pushed away from the counter.
“All right.”
In the bedroom, Dusty grabbed the bucket and carried it out, returning a couple of minutes later with clean water smelling like vinegar.
Ben wrinkled his nose. “You made a salad?”
“White vinegar’s great for cleaning wood floors. I found a bottle in your pantry and added a little to the water. You shouldn’t use much regular chemical stuff on these nice floors.”
“Anything you say.” He flashed his teeth again at Dusty, turned the music back on, and they went to work.
A few strokes in, Dusty glanced over at Ben and sped up his mopping. Ben got faster to match Dusty, and then added a little more speed.
Dusty started mopping like crazy, and Ben copied him, stroke for stroke. Dusty giggled as he wrung out the mop with super speed and went back to his mad moparama.
Ben gritted his teeth, slopped some water on the floor, and spread it around at double time.
Dusty yelled, “No fair. You can’t splash water on this floor!”
“Okay, okay.” Ben grabbed a cloth and dried the floor as Dusty got ahead of him in the race to the door. Ben grabbed his mop, wrung it out, and went into overdrive, swiping like a Mr. Clean fanatic.
Dusty laughed, and Ben laughed with him as they backed toward the wall, angling toward the door.
Dusty yelled, “I’m winning.”
“Don’t even dream it!”
Adrenaline rushed through Ben as he cleaned his last few feet of hardwood. His butt hit something hard and soft at the same time that turned out to be Dusty’s perfect ass. Dusty yelped and spun, thrusting forward his mop like a rapier. Ben met him and they began to fence with crossed mops, howling like loons.
Aluminum handles clanked and beads of water sprayed all over them as they danced around the room.
“Oh!” Suddenly, Dusty’s foot hit a damp patch, his arms flew up as his feet slid out from under him, and he pinwheeled backward, arms and mop flailing.
Ben dodged the swinging cleaning device and grabbed Dusty just before his head hit the wall. Dusty fell forward and landed against Ben’s chest, throwing him off balance despite the size difference, and the two of them careened backward like the tree that fell in the forest when no one was listening. Ben reached out an arm behind him and managed to hurl his body, still holding Dusty, toward the bed that had been pushed against the wall.
His butt hit the mattress, legs still flailing, but he managed to keep Dusty from landing on the floor by hauling him against his body.
“Whoa! Holy crap, that was close.”
When Ben realized they were both okay, he started to laugh—until his current position soaked in, and in, and in.


About the Author



Tara Lain writes the Beautiful Boys of Romance in contemporary,  paranormal, and suspense gay romance novels that star her unique, charismatic heroes. Her first novel was published in January of 2011 and she’s now somewhere around book 45. Her best-selling novels have garnered awards for Best Series, Best Contemporary Romance, Best Paranormal Romance, Best Ménage, Best LGBT Romance, Best Gay Characters, Book of the Year, Gay Romance of the Year, and she has been honored as Best Author of the Year. She often does workshops on both author promotion and writing craft.  Tara, her soul-mate husband, and her soul-mate dog are recent transplants to Ashland, Oregon from the southern California coast where she has set many of her books. Passionate about diversity, justice, and new experiences, Tara says on her tombstone it will say “Yes”!

You can find Tara at Lain

Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter Goodreads | Pinterest




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Flowers For The Gardener by Sharon Maria Bidwell - Release Blitz with Excerpt and Giveaway Link




Length: 70,000 words approx.

Cover Design:

Publisher: JMS Books

Blurb

A warm-hearted rich man's son, Richard Gardener needs to overcome three obstacles: find a way the family business can run without him, help his mother cope with grief, and stop butting heads -- and other parts of his anatomy -- with the gardener.

Ethan Fields has worked for the Gardener family for many years. He’s struggling with debt and the desire to leave, and has loved Richard far longer than the man would believe. Ethan can cope with most things, but his anger with Richard’s mother won’t fade. Until that and his feelings for Richard are resolved, he feels trapped and, alas, the idea that sex will get Richard out of his system isn’t working.

To make the situation worse, both men assume too much and don’t say the right words, and Ethan’s offer of ‘just sex’ grows more complicated by the day. Can Richard and Ethan stop getting their wires crossed before their paths diverge?



Excerpt

Sounds of splashing made Ethan glance over his shoulder, witness to Richard's ineffectual efforts to clean his hands. While the teakettle worked away making a noise in the corner, Ethan tore off a few sheets from a roll of blue paper, tougher than the type intended for kitchen use, and handed over the wad.

"Wipe yourself with this first and pull back those sleeves. I'll change this."

He took the dish of now dirty liquid and tossed it out. By the time he walked back, the pot -- always so-called by his father -- started the little familiar jig before clicking off. Time they got a new one but no point asking for these things. No one up at the house would pay for them while those who worked on the estate could 'make do'. Ethan must wait until the appliance blew up or died. He made busy pouring out cold and hot water before handing over a small screwdriver.

"You might wanna dig out some soil if the brush don't get rid of it all." Not to say a little dirt on Richard Gardener wouldn't be an improvement.

Much improved by the view of things. Those grey-green eyes were brighter than Ethan recalled. The boy now a man and broader in the shoulders, and ... a quick glance to make certain and, yes, Richard filled out his trousers well. A number of people might find it strange Ethan noted Richard's eyes before giving his body and crotch a once-over-many people believed a person's eyes a female preference -- but a bright gaze always attracted Ethan.

He set to making tea, including one for Richard, though he didn't bother asking if his boss wanted any. The man needed brains more than tea. Damn fool to come out without a jacket in this weather, which ... fine, so had Ethan, but he worked, built up a sweat, and he didn't react to winter's bite like the rich boy, more used to it. The reason Ethan gave Richard warm water was owing to how red his fingers were; so, too, his cheeks. Digging into the soil with bare hands ... the idiot was a walking invitation for frostbite.

"Sugar? Or are you sweet enough?"

Well, damn. Richard flushed. Ethan tried to hide his amusement, unable to tell whether he succeeded. "You can sweeten it as you like, or not." He put the mug near the other man who eyed it, gaze narrowed, lips pursed under a lowered brow. No doubt he suspected to find it laced with weed killer. Didn't take it, but he was preoccupied, still cleaning his nails. Be no surprise, though, if the tea went untouched. All because Richard didn't trust him. Might be worth his while to do something about the dislike.

"Remember last time you stood here?"

Richard became a statue, revealing he recalled, all right. So many emotions flittered over his face. Back then, the little Lord of the Manor washed more than his hands. The memory flashed vibrant, the clear sky on a chill afternoon transformed into the blistering heat of high summer by his father's fury. Regardless of age, Ethan's dad had dragged both of them in, one to clean up and one to wait until the other left, intending to give Ethan a hiding, or so Ethan had believed. Turned out his old man didn't have it in him to hit his son, though the margin was narrow. Understandable, with his father afraid of losing his job and livelihood.

The promise -- never to touch Richard again -- Ethan kept, for the most part because of a lack of opportunity.

Last time when Richard stood in this hut, the boy wiped blood and mud off his face before running back to the house. This time, Ethan planned not to let Richard escape.

Author Bio

A writer from the UK, Sharon doesn’t get out much these days. She’s too busy creating vibrant worlds and characters to share with others. She writes fiction both light and dark in various genres. She has been approached on occasion to write articles such as reports and publicity material, though her focus will always be story-telling. She loves writing, reading, movies, the theatre, her garden, and seeing other parts of the world, but not the hassle of travelling. Wherever she happens to hang her hat, she lives primarily in a world of her own.


Head over to Sharon's website for a fabulous giveaway here


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A Love To Remember by Sarah Hadley Brook - Release Blitz with Excerpt and Giveaway




Length: 27,000 words approx.

Publisher: JMS Books

Blurb

Graham Hayes decided long ago he’d never be in a relationship. It was better to stay single than to fall in love only to be left alone, which he was certain would happen to him. He’d seen Alzheimer’s ravage his family members all his life, leaving their loved ones to deal with the fallout. Some of them stayed, but some didn’t. Graham isn’t going to risk it.

When he hires nurse Sam Morgan to take care of his dad during the day, his pledge to stay single is put to the test. He soon finds it difficult to maintain a professional distance.

Graham’s guarded his heart for so long, but his resolve is crumbling. Will he be able to conquer his fear to give himself a chance at love? Can he trust Sam to stick around for better or worse?

Excerpt

The doorbell rang just as Graham took a seat at the table, preparing to try and get some work done. It had been days since he'd even opened his laptop. He groaned. Looked like it wasn't meant to be for the moment. His dad had finished his granola cereal and was sitting on the sofa, reading a book. It was still early enough in the morning where he seemed to have most of his faculties.

Assuming it was the home health care aide the agency was sending over, he didn't bother to check the peephole or the window next to the entrance and swung the door open.

Graham's jaw dropped and he stood in place, his feet frozen to the ground. Was he hallucinating? What the hell was going on? He stepped out and pulled the door partially closed behind him so he could speak to the man on his doorstep. The man currently grinning down at him.

"What are you doing here?" Graham hissed. "How did you find me?" He glanced up at the man he'd met at the club and wondered if he should call the cops. Wasn't this considered stalking? It didn't matter that his body reacted in all kinds of weird ways. He could be dangerous. And compared to Graham, the guy was huge.

The man stepped back and held up his hands, palms out. "Hey, I had no idea you lived here."

Graham's eyes narrowed.

"No, seriously," he insisted. "The agency sent me here."

"Agency?" Shit. "You're the ... home health care aide?"

S.G. nodded and offered his hand. "I'm Sam Morgan. Nurse for hire."

Graham stared up at him -- probably a little too long at the man's massive chest -- and finally shook his hand, shaken by the jolt of electricity coursing through his arm. "Okay. Um, come inside?" His voice was trembling. Get a grip!

S.G. -- Sam -- followed him inside, ducking his head as he walked through the doorway.

His dad didn't look up, so Graham led the man to the kitchen table, gesturing for him to take a seat. He wasn't even sure what to say. Or ask. He felt awkward. And silly for thinking the guy was stalking him. Graham had only been a quick fuck at the club for Sam. A means to an end. Nothing more.

He sat across from Sam and stared. The man was even sexier in the daylight. Dirty blond hair cut close to the scalp, a little longer on top. In the light he could see his eyes were the color of caramel. Hazel, maybe? He fought the urge to reach across the table and stroke the stubble still covering his jawline. And shit, the man was broad. Huge. He'd thought of him as a warrior that night and he found himself thinking that was still an apt description.

"You're a nurse?" he blurted out.

Sam frowned. "Hey, don't stereotype me," he said quietly. "I love being a nurse."

Graham's face heated. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean ... I guess I'm just kind of shocked at seeing you here," he admitted.

Sam's frown turned into a grin. "Yeah, not exactly what I was expecting this morning, either." He tilted his head toward Graham's dad on the sofa. "I assume I'm here for him?"

Graham cleared his throat, tried to clear his head. "Yeah. That's my dad. Thurston. Thurston Hayes."

"So you must be Graham Hayes?" Sam's voice was quiet, his gaze on Graham.

"Yes. I'm sorry. I should have introduced myself." Shit. He was blundering this. He'd never felt so off-kilter when it came to a man. "Do you want something to drink?"

Sam shook his head. "No thanks. Right now, can you fill me in on your dad? Let me know what's going on. I have some basic information, but it always helps to get specifics from family."

"Sure." Graham glanced at his dad and saw he was still engrossed in his book. He wondered if he'd even turned a page. Was he struggling with reading, too? Graham turned back to Sam, who was watching him, patiently waiting for him to continue. "I'm not sure what you want to know?"

Sam leaned back and offered him a small smile. "My job is to make your life easier and help the patient feel better. Why don't you just tell me a little about your dad?"

Author Bio

Sarah Hadley Brook lives smack-dab in the middle of the Heartland and is the mother of two wonderful young men, as well as two cats. During the day, she works in the nonprofit world, but reserves evenings for her hobby-turned-passion of writing, letting the characters she conjures in her mind take the lead and show her where the story will go. When not working or writing, she can be found reading, working on dollhouses, trying her hand at new recipes, or watching old movies and musicals. In her ideal world, Christmas would come at least twice a year, Rock Hudson and Doris Day would have costarred in more than three movies, and chocolate would be a daily necessity. She dreams of traveling to Scotland some day and visiting the places her ancestors lived. Sarah believes in “Happily Ever After” and strives to ensure her characters find their own happiness in love and life.

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Sunday, April 29, 2018

Love In Spades by Charlie Cochet - Release Blitz with Excerpt



LOVE IN SPADES
CHARLIE COCHET
M/M ROMANCE
RELEASE DATE: 04.24.18



COVER DESIGN: REESE DANTE

BLURB
Ex-Special Forces soldier Anston “Ace” Sharpe is fighting a different battle these days—one involving the world of private security across the state of Florida. As part owner of Four Kings Security, Ace and his fellow Kings tackle everything from armed transport and investigations to cyber intelligence and executive protection. Cocky, fearless, and brash, Ace isn’t afraid to take risks.

After years of working alongside his father, Colton Connolly is ready to take the helm at Connolly Maritime, but his father’s retirement is put on hold when Colton begins receiving death threats. If that isn’t bad enough, his father signs a contract with Four Kings Security to provide Colton with round-the-clock protection, despite his adamant refusal. Colton’s life has been turned upside down, the last thing he needs is a shadow, especially in the form of infuriating, sexy-as-sin Ace Sharpe, who seems to be on a mission to drive Colton mad.

Sparks fly the moment Colton and Ace meet on a sultry night club dance floor. But getting involved with a client, even one as fiery and beautiful as Colton Connolly, is a line Ace is unwilling to cross. Colton might be attracted to Ace, but he’d been burned before. He might be willing to put his life in Ace’s hands, but not his heart.
As the Florida nights heat up, so does their passion, and Ace and Colton are faced with a difficult choice—take the plunge and risk it all, or play it safe and walk away?

If Ace can keep a deadly threat from robbing Colton of a future….



EXCERPT
“Do I get a gun?” Colton asked.
“Have you ever fired a gun?”
“No. I’m not really a fan.”
“It’s amazing how many clients believe we’re going to arm them. Even if you were an expert marksman, you wouldn’t get a gun. You get a pen.”
Wait…. “A pen?”
“Yep. Titanium.” Ace handed Colton a silver pen, and Colton hesitantly took it from him. He held it up in front of him and peered at it.
“I’m supposed to fend off an attacker with a pen?” Was it a Bond pen? If he clicked the end or twisted it, would it release a toxic gas or set off an explosive? He clicked the end, and the ink nib popped out. Nope. It was just a pen.
“It’s a tactical weapon,” Ace assured him. “With the right amount of force in the right place, it can cause some serious damage.”
Colton eyed him skeptically. “You’re messing with me.”
“No.”
“What if they have a gun?”
“That’s a different lesson.”
Colton sighed. “Okay, show me.”
“Not if you’re going to give me attitude.”
“I’m not giving you attitude.”
Ace held his hand out. “Give me the pen.”
“No. It’s my pen.” Colton clutched it to his chest.  “You gave it to me.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. This is the only defense I have. You’re not taking it from me.”
“Colton, you do realize I could take it from you without you even realizing.”
“Oh yeah, Mr. Hot-Shot-Green-Beret? Then do it.”
“Colton,” Ace warned.
“Come on. I want to see your super-secret moves.”
“I don’t even know what to say to you right now, other than you’re being ridiculous. And I have your pen.” Ace held up a silver pen.
“What the hell?” Colton gaped at his empty hands before his head shot up. “How’d you do that?”
“With years of practice. Now, are you going to pay attention?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Can I have my pen back?”
Ace pressed his lips together like he was trying to keep from laughing. The guy was so fucking sexy. Colton wanted to climb him and do terrible things to his body. Instead he took the pen Ace handed him.
“Thank you.”
“Okay, put that in your pocket. First I’m going to demonstrate the moves.” Ace pulled his own pen from his pocket.”
“Ooh, yours is black. It looks very serious.”
“It’s the same as yours, but black.”
“It camouflages with your clothes.”
“Yes.”
“Does it come in different colors?”
“You should know that I’m two seconds away from putting you in a sleeper hold.”


Charlie Cochet is an author by day and artist by night. Always quick to succumb to the whispers of her wayward muse, no star is out of reach when following her passion. From adventurous agents and sexy shifters, to society gentlemen and hardboiled detectives, there’s bound to be plenty of mischief for her heroes to find themselves in, and plenty of romance, too!

Currently residing in Central Florida, Charlie is at the beck and call of a rascally Doxiepoo bent on world domination. When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found reading, drawing, or watching movies. She runs on coffee, thrives on music, and loves to hear from readers.

Twitter: @charliecochet