Friday, November 28, 2014

Trouble Comes in Threes on Dreamspinner's Coming Soon Page

Fur, Fangs, and Felines series

(and they're marked down since DsP is having a Thanksgiving sale!)

A snowstorm in the South—on New Year’s Eve—is a perfect recipe for a catastrophe. After two soul-crushing bad breaks, Kirk’s waiting for disaster number three to strike when, naturally, two stray cats arrive on his doorstep during the storm and decide to make themselves at home. Tenderhearted Kirk lets them stay even though there’s something decidedly odd about his overly friendly felines. 

Out of the punishing weather and full of tuna, Dolf and Tal are happy to be snug in Kirk’s house. But then their human goes outside for firewood and suffers a nasty fall that leaves him unconscious. Now the two cats have no choice but to reveal themselves. 

Kirk wakes up to find the two kitties are actually Dolf and Tal. They’re cat shifters—and his destined mates. Being part of a feline threesome is enough for Kirk to grapple with, but soon he learns they come from a clowder that doesn’t believe humans and shifters should mix. Kirk knew those two cats would be trouble. Little does he know the real trouble lies ahead.

“I despise this place, I want you to know that,” Dolf grumbled, barely suppressing a hiss as he drove down yet another aisle hunting for a parking spot. “I must have lost my mind to even attempt to shop after Black Friday. And who was the idiot who laid out these parking lots? They’re not big enough to park a hybrid car in, much less a king cab dually truck. But then, parking this thing inside a city block takes an act of Congress.”
Tal poked Dolf in the ribs. “Stop picking on my truck.”
“Truck, ha. This thing ought to have its own zip code.” Dolf grunted in annoyance when some kid zipped into the spot he’d been eyeing. “Damn kid got my spot.”
“You have truck envy.”
“My ass.”
“And I do envy your ass, even as long as we’ve been mated.” Tal winked. “By the way, quit bitching about that kid. You see, we’re not even on the right side.” Tal pointed to the far side of the parking lot. “What we’re going to buy is on that side of the store. I don’t see the point in parking over here, then having to walk a mile to get over there. Unless, of course, you just want to.”
“You want to drive?”
“No point now. We’re here.”
Dolf checked his watch. “I bet by the time we get out of here, it’ll be five o’clock. For someone who absolutely hates driving in rush-hour traffic, you might want to rethink that last comment.”
Tal pouted, lower lip pooched out and eyes sad.
“Oh no, don’t even start with the sad, puppy dog eyes. I mean, really. Puppy dog eyes?”
“You’re so mean.”
“No, sweetheart, mean would be making you ride home with your dick out and unable to touch it while I talk dirty to you.”
Tal shifted in the seat. “If memory serves, you did do that the last time we were here. Thank goodness it was dark and you have tinted windows.”
A pleasant smile crossed Dolf’s face as he revisited the memory of his mate sprawled out in the seat. “Yup, that was a ride home worth remembering. You were begging by the time we got in the drive.” His voice had a little purr as he spoke.
“As I said: mean.”
“Hey, gotta get my kicks somehow when you drag me here.” Dolf blew out a deep breath as he slowly made his way to the other side of the huge discount hardware store. “When we’re done, you want to grab an early dinner?” Dolf scanned the parking lot. “Gods, isn’t there something closer to the front of the store? Did I mention I hate this place?”
“At least once every five minutes, and yes, dinner sounds good. I heard Sam had his grand opening at Arches few nights ago.”
“What a name. I love it.”
“Isn’t it? I helped finish a few things right before he opened. He took some flak about the name from some of the… well, employees who are—”
“I know what you mean.” Werecats usually lived separately from human society, but still ran businesses that hired humans. Even though they didn’t like to do that. Then Dolf scowled. “Wait, he was having trouble?”
“It was just all in good fun. He just shrugged, said he liked cats, and that’s what cats do—they arch. Want to stop by his new restaurant?”
“Yes, we’ll eat there,” Dolf said. “I hear they have great steaks. Might even have to have a beer or three after this little adventure.”
“I really don’t get why you hate coming here so much.”
“Because every time I step foot in this place, I end up spending hours here. Half the time I’m hunting someone down for assistance. I walk in, and every employee in a five-mile radius disappears.”
“I never have a problem finding someone to help.”
Well, of course Tal didn’t have any problems. Just look at that long, wavy, white-blond hair, those bright blue eyes, and that long, lean, golden, sun-kissed body. Add in the sweet, innocent look and ready smile—and people fell all over themselves to help his sexy mate.
Dolf glanced in the rearview mirror. He had the same bright blue eyes, but his jet-black hair curled loosely at the nape of his neck. Unlike Tal, most cat shifters had dark hair. Smooth, deep-bronzed skin stretched over finely honed muscles. A layer of thick, dark stubble covered his jaw and framed his lips. He was the dark to Tal’s light. And as far as sweet? As head beta of his clowder, and the next Alpha, there wasn’t a sweet bone in his body.
“Ah-ah!” Dolf whipped the truck into a parking spot, cackling loudly. “Right in front of the store too. How often does that happen?”
“I swear, is this like a competition—you against the parking lot gods?”
“I’m not that bad.” Dolf shut the truck off.
“Right.” Tal rolled his eyes as he climbed out.
Dolf walked around the front of the truck, waiting for Tal. “Okay, so maybe I am.”
“You are.” Tal eagerly rubbed his hands together as they walked into the store. “Man, I love this place. Okay, you said you wanted to get your dad some sort of tool for his birthday, right? Hand tools are over there.”
Dolf watched Tal stride across the store, following behind. He certainly was no follower, but in here, Tal ruled. Plus, it gave him a chance to admire that fine ass of Tal’s, which could only improve his mood.
“Ta-da. Hand tools!” Tal gestured to shelf upon shelf of tools in all different sizes and lengths. “What did you have in mind?”
“Have in mind?” Dolf stared at the shelves, his sudden good mood gone. “Are you kidding me? There’s like… millions of things here. What does half this stuff do? How many different types of hammers does a guy need to just drive in a nail?”
“It amazes me how the handyman gene skipped you. I thought this stuff was ingrained into the male DNA. You hate hardware stores, hate tools—you don’t have a clue what most of them do or even care. I just don’t get it.”
Dolf lowered his voice. “You questioning my manhood? Huh. I’ll remember that tonight when you’re screaming to come.”
Tal hunched his shoulders and his nose twitched. He discreetly sniffed the air. “Aw, goddess, I can smell your desire. Don’t do that, Dolf. Don’t make me walk around here hard.”
Dolf snickered, really wishing he could drag his mate off to a dark corner. The sweet scent of Tal’s arousal floated to him, making him need. “Then behave.”
“So, help me out here.” Dolf scratched his head. “What do I get the Alph… ah, I mean the man who has everything?” Dolf wanted to smack himself in the head. He rarely slipped and said that word when not around others of his kind. From a very young age, they learned to be cautious around humans.
“Really? How did you miss the clue your dad dropped Sunday while we were having dinner with them? Didn’t you hear him talking about redoing the tile in the kitchen?”
“I did, but I had no idea what he was talking about.” Dolf trusted Tal when it came to tools. After all, that was his business.
“He all but spelled it out for you. You tuned him out when he started talking tools and renovations, didn’t you?” Tal shook his head. “What would you do without me? He wants a tile saw. If you want to spend a little extra money, we can get him one with a stand. But it’s going to cost you.”
Dolf massaged his neck. If Tal said it was going to cost, then it was really going to cost. “How much money?”
“For a good one? Upward of a thousand and over.”
“I didn’t want to spend quite that much.” Dolf scowled at the tools.
“No problem. There are some with stands that are less. Or without stands too. Is that what you want to get him?”
“Yeah, yeah, he’ll use that, won’t he? Especially since he likes the do-it-yourself projects.”
“He also knows he can call me if he needs help.”
“It certainly helps that his son-in-law owns his own construction business.” Dolf thought about it, then made up his mind. “Let’s get that. Uh, where are they?”
“I’ll show you. Come on.” Tal walked beside Dolf. “While we’re here, you want to get a new commode kit for your mom’s master bath? She’s been on your dad to fix that.”
“I know.” Dolf cut his eyes at an older man who was staring at Tal. He narrowed his eyes, a warning to the human. The other man looked away. Tal, Dolf noticed, didn’t catch the byplay. He never did. “I guess we can get that since we’re here. That’ll save Dad a trip into town.”
“The saws are on another aisle. Let’s get that picked out, and then we can get the commode kit.”
Dolf picked out the saw he wanted, then followed Tal to another aisle. His mate pointed out the different kinds, but Tal’s words had rapidly faded into a meaningless buzz. There, on the air currents in the store, was the sweetest scent. It was light and flowery, reminding him of honeysuckle. He breathed deeply, taking the scent into himself. His cock hardened immediately and his head spun. A yowl threatened to escape.
That scent… that scent was seductive and alluring. It spoke to him, whispering things that made him need. His cat paced frantically in his mind, tail slashing madly. The need to pounce, to sink his canines in and drink that sweet, life-giving blood of his…. His gums tingled and saliva flooded his mouth.
He swallowed, then swallowed again as his head pounded, his heart rate spiking as one thought screamed through his mind: Mate! Another mate! Where was that scent coming from? Or who? And by the goddess, why? He already had a mate. What was their goddess thinking, giving him another? But he couldn’t ignore the reaction. It had been the same when he met Tal.
A quick glance down the aisle showed a fairly tall, forty-something human male who had a few strands of white in his short brown hair. He was muttering at commode kits. Dolf wanted to roll his eyes. Commode kits? Really? The same thing they were looking for? Their goddess must be having a high old time with this.
“Fuck,” he whispered softly. He rarely cussed, except when aroused. Nothing sent his mate whimpering faster than Dolf describing in frank detail how he planned to fuck Tal. He loved hearing Tal’s voice begging… and speaking of that, only then did he notice Tal had stopped talking. Not only had Tal stopped talking, but now he was growling. It was low, but it was a growl, a sound no human would make.
“Tal,” Dolf whispered. “Look at me, mate.”
Tal’s fists clenched, spasms shaking his arms. “That scent….”
“I know. Look at me. You’re growling, and you can’t do that here. Talise!” Dolf’s voice dropped as he snapped out Tal’s full name, power and command flowing from him. His mate was close to losing control right there in a hardware warehouse. “Stop. Now.”

Get ready! On December 26, trouble's gonna be coming your way. The cats are on the prowl, and a human will find more than he ever thought possible—both the good and the bad. 

Trouble Comes in Threes

book #1 in the Fur, Fangs, and Felines series

releases 12/26/14

~keep an eye out for the Trouble tour starting the middle of December.

Thursday, November 27, 2014

Happy Thanksgiving and a chance to win an Amazon GC!

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! For those who celebrate the holiday, did ya know these fun facts? And I have some goodies to talk about, so make sure to check out the whole post, lol.

Fun Facts about Thanksgiving Today

In the US, about 280 million turkeys are sold for the Thanksgiving celebrations.

Each year, the average American eats somewhere between 16 - 18 pounds of turkey.

Californians are the largest consumers of turkey in the United States.

Thanksgiving Day is celebrated on the fourth Thursday in November in the United States.

Although, Thanksgiving is widely considered an American holiday, it is also celebrated on the second Monday in October in Canada.

Black Friday is the Friday after Thanksgiving in the United States, where it is the beginning of the traditional Christmas shopping season.

*For Thanksgiving, Dreamspinner has marked down everything, so my books are on sale, 

*The Harvest: Taken (2nd edition) will be on sale at ARe from Thanksgiving to Monday.

*And for the holiday, leave me your name and email for a chance to win a $10.00 GC from Amazon! Winner announced Dec 1st.

I hope everyone has a great time, eats way too much, and enjoys the football games. Oh wait, those are my plans lol! Happy Thanksgiving Day, guys!

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Pride Promotions presents Kiss My Ash by Renee George and a Giveaway!

Book Name: Kiss My Ash
Goodreads Link:
Author Name: Renee George
Author Bio: Multi-published, best-selling author Renee George has been a factory worker, an army medic, a nurse, a website designer, a small press editor, an artist, and a teacher, but writing stories about sexy alpha men is the BEST job she's ever had. When she turned thirty, she went back to college and earned her BA in creative writing. She has been married to the love of her life, a wonderful man who supports in every way, for over half her life (and that is a VERY long time!). She happily lives in a small, Midwest town with her husband, two needy dogs and a very independent cat. Anything else you want to know, just ask. She’ll give you all the nitty gritty dirt.
Author Contact:
Publisher: Ellora’s Cave

A werewolf who’s hairless in full shift.
A water sprite who can’t hold his shape at the slightest touch of water.
An ash-tree nymph with a black thumb who kills every bit of flora in her vicinity.
That’s Fortunate, Missouri, in a nutshell—the town for abnormal paranormals. Nymph Romy, however, can one-up them all—her particular flaw is killing her. But thanks to a possible love spell, the wolf and the water sprite could be Romy’s key to cheating death. And the three misfits may find that even imperfect creatures can still create a sexy, loving, perfect union.
Inside Scoop:  Sol, Romy and Lucien love each other—emotionally, spiritually and physically. Which means both ménage and male/male action. You lucky reader, you.
A Romantica® paranormal erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

Categories: Bisexual, Erotica, Fantasy, Fiction, Menage/Poly, Paranormal, Romance

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this site.
An Excerpt From: KISS MY ASH
Copyright © RENEE GEORGE, 2014
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Mathias was a korrigan, a fairy dwarf, and to his detriment, he’d been born male. An abomination amongst the korrigans, who were always female. Even his own mother had wanted him dead, but you can’t kill an immortal.
When he finally strolled out from behind the counter, his height no more than four feet, he held a red clay pot filled to the brim with a dark, loamy soil. Carefully, he handed it to Romy. “Here.”
She stepped away. “And what the hell am I supposed to do with dirt?” Maybe Mathias was tired of her bringing back dead plant after dead plant. It didn’t matter how much she watered the damn things, fed them, or even talked to them—none survived. She’d stopped giving them names after a while, awash with guilt and shame over each death.
His red eyes sparkled with excitement. “In this soil, there is a very special seed, my girl. Very rare and unique. I’m entrusting you with its care.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. There is no way in hell I’m taking on a ‘rare and unique’ plant. No. No. No. Give me a hardy shrub or weed. Better yet, maybe a cabbage. I won’t feel so bad about a cabbage when it croaks.”
Romy was a dryad; specifically, an ash tree nymph. Which meant, in theory, plants should flourish around her, but she couldn’t even keep her own tree alive. Her mother had postulated it had something to do with the sperm donor, aka Romy’s biological father, but the elder dryad had refused to say more on the subject. Tree nymphs were traditionally a love-’em-and-leave-’em race of females. They didn’t get involved with beings they considered no more than means to an end. Males born to tree nymphs always developed into the same race as the male halves of the couplings, while the females were always dryads.
Unfortunately, something had gone very wrong in the making of Romy. It hadn’t taken long after the dryad equivalent of puberty set in before her people had decided she was toxic.
She pushed the pot back to Mathias. “Uh-uh. You’ve seen my track record.”
When her “birth defect” had eventually started to affect the trees of her forest six months ago, Romy had been summarily kicked out by the other dryads. Of course, her people had called it a “long, extended respite” and sent her to the town of Fortunate, Missouri.
The moniker, over the years, had become a joke. The town had been named after the Fortunate Isles, also called the Isles of the Blessed, and had been used for more than two hundred years as a dumping ground for the “paranormally challenged”. Those who didn’t fit in with their own kind were sent to Fortunate to finish out their days. For immortals like Mathias, the end of days was a long-ass time.
For Romy, well…without a tree to tend, she wouldn’t live another year, the chlorophyll drying in her veins. The plants were test subjects for her, to see if she could sustain life. So far, they’d served only to help ease the ache of dying. But as far as tending plants and making them flourish, she failed constantly.
For Mathias to trust her with a “special” plant…no way was she taking on that kind of responsibility.
It was one thing to kill a common houseplant, but a whole ’nother thing to be responsible for something “rare and unique”. Was Mathias crazy? Romy shook her head again. “I can’t. Don’t you have an air plant or something? Hell, those suckers don’t even require watering.”
He patted her hands, his fingers soothing and gentle. “Ah, but my dear, I hope this may be the answer to—”
Mathias’ explanation was cut off by a barking baritone. “Ah, shit!”
Romy put the pot on the counter as she scooted around Mathias to see who the unfamiliar voice belonged to.
In the greenhouse area beyond the main shop, two long, well-muscled legs and a firm ass, all packaged in perfectly tight jeans, stood nestled between two rows of plants.
“Hello,” Romy said.
The owner of the legs and ass straightened, making him a foot taller than Romy. And oh goddess, did he have an upper body and face to go with the lower half—thickly muscled chest and broad shoulders crowned by a face with bow lips, a Roman nose and the brightest green eyes. All framed by messy, shiny black hair that fell about his shoulders. It was as if the gods had decided to create perfection.
Ridiculous though—they would never do that. But hot damn, they’d come pretty close.
“Uh, hello yourself,” he said back, dusting his palms against his jeans.
His really low voice, which would have better suited a grizzly bear, sent a humming through Romy that made her body sing.
“What have you done now, Lucien?” Mathias asked when he walked into the back. His presence was enough to break the harmony, and Romy snapped out of her new-guy-induced daze.
“What a great name.” She smiled. It made her feel foolish, but she couldn’t punch down the giddiness.
“It’s a name.” He shrugged then leaned over again, which gave Romy another clear shot of his fabulous ass. When he stood once more, he held a small plant, cradling the roots carefully. He looked at Mathias. “I broke the pot, but the fern is fine.”
Lucien had a slight accent, but Romy couldn’t put her finger on the origin. If possible, it made the young man even more exotic and mysterious.
Mathias shook his head, making his red beard sweep his chest. “Where’s Sol?”
“I’m here!” Sol Winter, who’d been working for Mathias long before Romy had moved to Fortunate, stepped out from behind the last row of plants. He wore a baby-blue polo shirt that matched his light-blue eyes. It also complemented his tan, a deep golden bronze. Natural, according to him. Strange for an elf, but who was Romy to judge? His long blond hair was pulled into a ponytail. He often wore it down and spilling over his shoulders, but generally had it tied back for work.
Sol was taller than Lucien by several inches and a little broader. His smile brightened when he saw Romy. “Hey, you.” His mouth turned down in sympathy. “Kill another one?”
They’d had a strange relationship ever since Romy had arrived in Fortunate, which generally involved spirited banter and sarcasm. Even when the conversation turned a little mean, Romy was still thankful for Sol. He was the closest thing she had to a friend.
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Nice.” He raised a brow. “Bitchy much?”
Even though she was certain Sol was gay, it didn’t stop her from having some wicked fantasies about him. After all, the man was hot-hot and knew how to dress. “Takes one to know one.”
“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the oak this morning.” Sol scooped a handful of topsoil and pitched it at her.
“Oh no you didn’t.” In retaliation, Romy grabbed a nearby hose and squeezed the nozzle trigger, dowsing Sol where he stood.
“Stop!” Lucien yelled.
Too late. At Lucien’s shout, Romy turned, the spray of water slapping across the man’s face—and Lucien instantly melted into a clear puddle on the greenhouse floor.
Mortified, she dropped the hose. “Oh no!” She shook her head and stumbled forward. “What have I done?” Not only was she a plant killer, apparently she was a man killer as well.
Two lips formed in the clear pool. “I’m fine. Really.”

Words: 27,000

Tour Dates: November 26

Rafflecopter Prize: $20 Amazon Gift Card
Rafflecopter Code: 

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Priceless - German translation

Hey everyone! Priceless was released in French not long ago and now it's been released in German by Dreamspinner Press. I'm very tickled to have this done, lol!

Monday, November 24, 2014

Welcome Julie Lynn Hayes and her up-coming Christmas release Dirty Little Lies

Changing Traditions and Dirty Little Lies
In this modern world, the family holiday ain’t what it used to be!
Rising divorce rates, re-marriages, and blended families have changed the dynamics of how we celebrate the holidays. It’s no longer a simple trip to Grandma’s house, or a one stop family function. Now families often divide their time, and that of their children, between two or more celebrations, which requires juggling time and resources.
Sometimes the solution to doing everything is to do it yourself, and let the guests come to you, but that isn’t an option for everyone. Or you can hold a second holiday, after the fact, for those people who couldn’t make the first. So if you go to visit with Cousin Peter’s family on the day of the holiday, perhaps you can host Aunt Ethel and her clan on a separate day. Share the fun and the cooking!
As children leave the next and scatter, holidays can present their own special challenges, and it isn’t always possible to share the day in person. But a phone call is an easy alternative, and the next best thing to being there. My kids are mostly scattered around the country – Hawaii, Washington, Indiana, and Illinois, with one at home. This year, we’re heading up to Indiana, but we’re going to make our own turkey dinner when we get back. That’s the only way to get leftovers, right?
So, holidays are what you make of them, and there is no one size fits all plan. Do what Is right and comfortable for you.
In Dirty Little Lies, Levi Thornton has decided to out himself on his father’s live Christmas telecast, his father being televangelist Marshall Thornton. Like inviting America home for the holidays! And making Dad squirm at the same time lol.
Thanks for having me on your blog, Michelle!

Levi Thornton is the closeted gay son of homophobic televangelist Marshall Thornton. So what’s the perfect gift for the father who never cared? Levi’s going to find a yummy young man on Christmas Eve, fuck him all night long and six ways to Sunday. And then he’s going to out himself on live national TV on Christmas Day in front of his father and God and everyone else. 
The problem is he’s having no luck at finding that special someone to share this moment with. Just when he thinks his quest is hopeless, in breezes Darjeeling Crane, and it’s off to the family hideaway for a night of fun. This will be a Christmas to remember, if Levi has anything to say about it.

Levi rose, loosened his red houndstooth tie, plastered a beatific smile on his handsome face, and strode purposefully toward the blond, never taking his eyes from him. He dropped onto the empty stool beside him, swinging it to face him, their knees touching.
“Merry Christmas,” the blond greeted him.
“It will be,” Levi replied. “It certainly will be.” At that moment the counter girl laid down a menu, a glass of water, and tableware. “Take your time, honey,” she said, walking away before he could comment.
The stranger flipped the menu open. “Anything you recommend?”
Levi blindly jabbed a finger at the open page. “Yeah. Me,” he brazenly replied. “I can give you something a whole lot better than anything you’ll find here. And then I’ll feed you, too.”
“That’s quite an offer, Mr…?” He looked at Levi, the question hanging from his pretty lips.
“You can call me Levi. What should I call you, pretty thing?”
“I like that, but you can call me Darjeeling.”
Auburn eyebrows arched in disbelief. “Like the tea?”
Levi leaned in, his lips brushing against the other man’s ear, his breath warm against his flesh. “I have a place where you and I can go, if you’re interested. Someplace a whole lot better than this ptomaine palace. And a hell of a lot more private. What do you say?” He ran his tongue along the outer shell of Darjeeling’s ear, felt his shiver.
“What do I say?” He laid his hand on Levi’s arm, turned his head just enough that their lips were mere micro-centimeters apart. “I say how soon can we leave?”

Julie Lynn Hayes first began publishing short stories and poetry in the 1990’s, when it was a different ballgame altogether, and Ebooks hadn’t been dreamed of yet. That changed in 2010 with the acceptance of her first romance novel. She’s come a long way since that first book appeared, and is finding the journey a very educational one. 
She lives in St. Louis with her daughter Sarah and her cat Ramesses. She often writes of two men finding true love and happiness in one another’s arms, and is a great believer in the happily ever after. She likes to write in different genres, to stretch herself in order to see what is possible. Her great challenge is to be told something can’t be done; she feels compelled to do it. 
When she isn’t writing, she enjoys crafts, such as crocheting and cross stich,  needlepoint and knitting, and she loves to cook, spending time watching the Food Network. Her favorite chef is Geoffrey Zakarian. Her family thinks she’s a bit off, but she doesn’t mind. Marching to the beat of one’s own drummer is a good thing, after all. Her published works can be found at Dreamspinner Press, eXtasy Books, Amber Quill Press, Torquere Press and Wayward ink.

My links:
Twitter @Shelley_runyon

Saturday, November 22, 2014

My Sexy Saturday - Pure

Happy Saturday and welcome to My Sexy Saturday! For this hop you post 7 paragraphs or 7 sentences or 7 words. It can be from a WIP or something published.

This week’s theme is our sexy Thanksgiving. So this week show us all the characters love family. Maybe it’s someone who doesn’t have one and suddenly they find themselves with one. It could be about someone who has always looked in and wanted a home with all the trimmings including a family. There are many ways to be thankful and we’d love to hear some of those wonderful stories. 

For this week, I thought I’d do something from my Dreamspinner release, Pure It’s book #3 in the Gods series. 

Zygi Wyatt is an intimidating dom, but he yearns for love just like the next man. However, finding a partner who isn’t scared of his size is no easy task. The easygoing Mo seems like the answer to his prayers.

Love is the stuff of dreams. Ask the god Morpheus—he knows all about it. Mo wants Zygi in a forever kind of way, but he has to be sure of Zygi’s love before he claims him for his mate and reveals his true self.

Unfortunately, Zeus is growing increasingly unhappy with Morpheus, and Ares is determined to throw a monkey wrench into everything. Zygi and Mo will have to brave the wrath of the gods to make their dreams come true.

Mo shifted, stretching as he opened his eyes. Confusion crossed his face as he stared at Zygi. Then Mo did the unbelievable. He rolled onto his stomach and widened his legs, offering himself.
“Please, please, make love to me again,” Mo whispered, rubbing against the silken bed sheets. “I need you so badly. Touch me, oh please, I need to feel you. Oh gods, please, love me.”
Zygi reached out to pull the loincloth out of the way when Mo’s words hit him… make love to me again. Mo believed he was dreaming. Was that the only way Mo thought he could have Zygi now? His heart ached for what he had done and his throat tightened. Mo’s voice was sleepy but full of pain and longing. His need arrowed straight into Zygi’s heart.
“Oh, Mo. Come on, babe, it’s me. I’m really here.” Zygi, straining to speak, stroked Mo’s leg, careful to keep the touch gentle. “This isn’t a dream. Wake up for me.”
Mo’s wings trembled and swept up, the rush of air washing over Zygi as Mo scrambled to a sitting position. Mo tentatively reached out and touched Zygi, his eyes widening as his hand met warm, living flesh.
“You’re real,” Mo said softly. “You’re really real and you’re here.”
Zygi grabbed Mo’s hand and held it tightly as tears flooded Mo’s eyes. “I’m real, and I’m not going anywhere, ever again. Mo, I love you. And I’m an ass. God have mercy, am I an ass! I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’ll sure work my ass off to earn it. I acted like a fool, hurt you beyond belief, and left you all alone. Please, Mo, forgive me.”

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Pride Promotion presents Third Eye by Rick R. Reed and a Giveaway!

Book Name: Third Eye
Author Name: Rick R. Reed

Author Bio & Contact:
Rick R. Reed is all about exploring the romantic entanglements of gay men in contemporary, realistic settings. While his stories often contain elements of suspense, mystery and the paranormal, his focus ultimately returns to the power of love. He is the author of dozens of published novels, novellas, and short stories. He is a three-time EPIC eBook Award winner (for Caregiver, Orientation and The Blue Moon Cafe). Raining Men and Caregiver have both won the Rainbow Award for gay fiction.  Lambda Literary Review has called him, "a writer that doesn't disappoint." Rick lives in Seattle with his husband and a very spoiled Boston terrier. He is forever "at work on another novel."


Publisher: DSP Publications
Cover Artist: Aaron Anderson


Who knew that a summer thunderstorm and his lost little boy would conspire to change single dad Cayce D’Amico’s life in an instant? With Luke missing, Cayce ventures into the woods near their house to find his son, only to have lightning strike a tree near him, sending a branch down on his head. When he awakens the next day in the hospital, he discovers he has been blessed or cursed—he isn't sure which—with psychic ability. Along with unfathomable glimpses into the lives of those around him, he’s getting visions of a missing teenage girl.

When a second girl disappears soon after the first, Cayce realizes his visions are leading him to their grisly fates. Cayce wants to help, but no one believes him. The police are suspicious. The press wants to exploit him. And the girls' parents have mixed feelings about the young man with the "third eye."

Cayce turns to local reporter Dave Newton and, while searching for clues to the string of disappearances and possible murders, a spark ignites between the two. Little do they know that nearby, another couple—dark and murderous—are plotting more crimes and wondering how to silence the man who knows too much about them.

Categories: Crime Fiction, Gay Fiction, Horror, M/M Romance, Mystery, Thriller

Cayce was just about to put the paper aside when another article—and a familiar name in the byline—caught his eye. “Teenager Reported Missing,” by Dave Newton. It wasn’t so much the headline that got his attention but the picture of the young girl beneath it. Pretty. Long blonde hair. And disturbingly familiar.
Even though Fawcettville was a small town, the girl’s name, Lucy Plant, didn’t ring any bells. Perhaps Cayce had waited on her at the Elite, the diner where he worked. But still, no specific recollection came back. Cayce couldn’t visualize the girl sitting at the counter, nor at one of the booths.
And yet she looked so familiar, as if she were someone Cayce was friends with, or even a relative.
Cayce scanned the story. The girl had been reported missing by her mother yesterday afternoon, just before the storm that had caused such a turn in Cayce’s own life.
There were no clues. The girl, at least according to her mother, could not possibly have been a runaway. “Lucy’s a good girl,” Amy Plant had told Fawcettville police detective JT Simmons. “She wouldn’t even go down the block to visit a friend without telling us first.”
The last time anyone had seen Lucy Plant was when her mother looked outside the living room window. Lucy had been playing with her Barbie dolls on the front lawn.
Cayce closed his eyes. He remembered, suddenly, the storm coming, and not knowing where Luke was. He sympathized with the girl’s mother and the panic she must have felt when she couldn’t locate her daughter.
A ceiling fan. Beneath his closed lids, Cayce saw a ceiling fan. He didn’t know why. He didn’t own one himself, and the one in his parents’ living room was an entirely different model from this one, which was white, with a plain globe. His parents’ fan had four frosted-glass light fixtures and faux wood blades.
Cayce kept his eyes closed, watching the ceiling fan whirl, its blades blurring and becoming singular. There was something wrong with the fan. It didn’t work quite right.
Cayce felt nauseated and opened his eyes. His face was glazed with sweat. His stomach churned, and he was afraid he would vomit. Why was seeing a ceiling fan so disturbing? Or was this some sort of aftershock, an effect of his accident?
Cayce didn’t think so.
He glanced down at the face of Lucy Plant and sucked in some air. “Oh my God,” he whispered, “she’s dead.”


Tour Dates: November 18, 2014

Tour Stops:

Rafflecopter Prize: E-book of Rick R. Reed’s thriller novella, ‘How I Met My Man’

Rafflecopter Code: a Rafflecopter giveaway