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Sunday, May 31, 2020

New Release: Thorn by Emily Carrington #LGBTQ #contemporaryromance



Hanlon is not the true threat, or at least not to Mike and Aidan’s happiness. From within their marriage, old arguments and insecurities rear their ugly heads. Can Mike and Aidan’s marriage survive mistrust and jealousy?



or pre-order at online retailers for June 5th

   







EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Emily Carrington

Religion was one of those things people got divorced over.

Oh, calm down. You had mind-blowing sex just a few days ago, and the only reason you haven’t had any since is because you’ve both been busy. And he loves you. Aidan admitted he was being paranoid, but sometimes the world felt fragile to him. Rick the Dick Hanlon coming back had thrown the Earth off its axis a little. And even though Aidan and Mike had weathered that storm, it would be an ongoing disaster movie because Rick the Dick wasn’t going away. He’d keep cropping up in their lives, eroding Mike’s confidence in himself. Damn him anyway, that violating bastard.

“Okay, okay,” Ashley said. “You don’t have to use the silent treatment to get me to talk.”

Aidan realized he’d wandered far afield. “I wasn’t,” he confessed, believing in his heart that lying only led to misunderstandings. “I was thinking… about church.” That was what had started him down that road, wasn’t it? “I can’t force you to talk. Nor would I want to. But you’re in pain. That much is obvious. I know you’ve really grown closer to Mike and Candice than to me, but I wanted you to know I’m a listening ear if you need one.”

She made a noise that sounded indecisive. “I don’t want Mike to know.”

Aidan winced. “I don’t keep secrets from my husband lightly. And most secrets are dangerous.”

“If I told you, you’d have to tell him?”

“If it’s something that he doesn’t need to know, and his ignorance wouldn’t hurt him, I’d keep your words private. But otherwise? I’ll absolutely tell him.”

“It’s not hurting me or anyone else,” she said. “I’m not suicidal and I’m not doing drugs.” She paused. “I’m not pregnant.”

Aidan considered that. “I’m glad for all of those things. And you’re right; I would have to share those with Mike. Can you tell me what it’s about without telling me the secret? I don’t want to betray your trust.”

“You’ve been straight up with me.” She was quiet for several seconds. Then, finally, she said, “It’s about… I don’t know. I’m not a lesbian or anything, but I’m…”

This was the last thing he’d expected. But it was familiar territory. After he’d come out at school back in California, at least half a dozen fellow students had approached him to “confess.” “This is something you and I can keep between us,” he told her.

“Because Mike wouldn’t understand?”

“No. Because whatever orientation you are doesn’t affect how he cares about you. Heck, it doesn’t influence how I care about you either, but if you need to get it off your chest or out in the open where we can explore together, I’m here to listen.”

“I’m not a guy-thing,” she said.

Aidan was amused by that turn of phrase but kept his laughter inside.

“But I’m not a girl either. I mean, I’m not trans, if I understand transgender correctly.”

That sounded like almost a question. So he answered it. “Being trans, understanding that you’re trans, can be difficult. But if you don’t feel as though you were born with the wrong parts physically, maybe you’re nonbinary.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m not entirely sure. But I think nonbinary is when you don’t want to conform to the binary equation of male or female.” He thought of a singer who’d run that way. Shame he couldn’t think of the name they had gone by. Damn, but he couldn’t even think if they’d been born male or female. He cast that over his shoulder. “Is that why you like being called Ash sometimes? Because it’s a gender-neutral name?”

“It’s not,” she said. “The only Ash I know is from Pokémon.”

That was, in fact, the only Ash that Aidan knew, as well. “Okay, but it could be gender neutral. Many names started out one way and became another. Like Ashley, actually. There was George Ashley Wilkes or something like that in Gone With The Wind.”

“I just like Ash because… I like it.”

“That’s the best reason to adopt a nickname,” Aidan told her honestly.

“Nonbinary.” She seemed to taste the word. “Non meaning neither and binary meaning boy or girl.”

She had the general idea.

“Does that mean I have to change my, um, whatever-it’s-called?”

Aidan raised an eyebrow. “Since I don’t know what you mean, I can’t say for sure.”

“My, um, whether you call me ‘he’ or ‘she.’”

“Your pronoun,” Aidan supplied. “And that depends on you.”

“Are there other pronouns?”

“‘Ze’ is one. ‘S/he’ is another, although it sounds a lot like ‘she.’ Or ‘hir’ though that sounds like ‘her’. And there’s ‘they.’”

“I don’t like any of those.”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to choose one right now. Or ever. Just because you’re thinking about being nonbinary doesn’t mean you have to change anything about yourself.”

“I’d like to change my clothes.” She sounded shy. “Maybe if we go school clothes shopping, I could find… stuff that’s not so girly.”

“Definitely. Although you’ll probably have to explain some of what you’re feeling to Mike at that point. Why don’t you want to tell him? He’s just as gay as I am.”

She giggled. “That’s not why I wanted to tell you.”

“No?”

“Nope. You just… you seem to know everything about the LGBTQ community.”

Aidan chuckled. “Not everything. Although I’m waiting for the day when the whole world, or at least Marisburg, is ready to accept QUILTBAG.”

“What’s that?”

“Hold on a second. I have one more question to ask you before Mike gets out here. You’re not eating on Sunday mornings. What’s Sunday got to do with your discomfort about not telling Mike about being nonbinary?”

She didn’t answer right away. Then, very quietly, she responded, “If they’re judgmental about you guys being gay, they’re not going to accept me being nonbinary.”

This was about church. “You don’t have to go,” spilled out of Aidan’s mouth.

She made a derisive noise, then immediately apologized. “You’ve got to know this. When a foster parent tells you that, they don’t really mean it. They mean ‘if you don’t go, we’re going to give you back.’”

Aidan’s heart ached for her and he took her hand. “I’ve been staying home.”

“Not anymore.”

“That’s to protect Mike. You’re old enough to stay home for a couple of hours by yourself.”

“I like it here,” she whispered. “I don’t want to leave.” She got up, pulling out of his grasp. “Please don’t tell Mike I said anything.” And she was escaping, moving across the living room and toward her room.

Oh, Ash, he thought, you don’t deserve to hold the weight of the world on your little shoulders. He realized this was how he felt about Mike too. He supposed that meant no one should have to bear such a heavy load, but right now he was concerned with his almost-daughter and his husband. Sometimes, I think we’d be better off moving. They couldn’t, though. Not with the price of their house hanging over their heads. And besides, “retreat” wasn’t really in Aidan’s vocabulary.

No, but protecting my loved ones is. Maybe if we moved…

He was still puzzling this through when Mike, Candice, and Ashley came into the kitchen. “Ready to go?” Mike asked.


ABOUT EMILY

LR Cafe's Best of 2019 Awards Nominee: Best Author

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender erotica. Seeking a world made of equality, she created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires.

Facebook | Twitter | Emily @ Changeling Press








Wednesday, May 13, 2020

Release Blitz: Out in Spring by Lane Hayes


Title: Out in Spring

Series: Out in College, Book 6

Author: Lane Hayes

Publisher: Lane Hayes

Release Date: May 8, 2020

Heat Level: 4 - Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 28k

Genre: Romance, New Adult, Bisexual, Jock and Nerd, College romance, Hockey, Humor

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Synopsis

The jock, the nerd, and a little spring fever… Ned- I don’t understand hockey at all. Or any sport. Attending a team party with my best friend might be a mistake. As an out and proud geek, I admit that hanging out with a bunch of jocks and their admirers isn’t my idea of fun, but getting kidnapped by a sexy hockey player who claims to have a crush on me is definitely a highlight. And finding out that Logan St. James is bisexual makes everything more interesting. Logan- Keeping my big bi secret hasn’t been easy. I have a couple of months of college left and one more game to play. I’m determined to make the most of it and spend as much time as possible with the sexy guy I’ve had a crush on since freshman year. I don’t want this to be over. There must be a way to come out in spring. Out in Spring is a low-angst MM, bisexual awakening staring a hunky hockey player, a sweet-natured geek, and a little college fun. This story is part of the Out in College series, but each book can be read as a stand-alone.

Excerpt

“Let’s see how many times we can go across the monkey bars without stopping. In other words, go to the slide and back until your arms give up on you. Winner chooses the next contest and—” “Hold on. That’s not fair. We both know you’re going to win.” “Yeah, that’s true. I’ll collect the first prize. Something easy…like you have to answer a truth or dare question. Ready?” “No, you already owe me, remember?” I did a quick trip across the bars, then dropped to my feet and brushed my hands off. “You’re right. What would you like?” “Uh…I don’t know.” “Come on. Think of something. It has to be reasonable, though. I don’t have a million bucks or a year’s supply of M&M’s in my truck,” I warned. Ned lifted a brow. “Really? You have T-shirts and sweatshirts. Why don’t you have M&M’s?” “That’s a genius question. I need to fix that ASAP. Truth is, I live out of my truck. Not literally, but I’ve got a lot of necessities…shoes, socks, water, a first aid kit, lube, a box of condoms.” He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered. “How about a blanket?” “Yep. Wait here. And watch out for fairies.” I ran to my SUV, pulled a wool plaid blanket from the trunk, and hurried to find Ned sitting on the pirate ship with his legs dangling off the edge. I climbed the short set of stairs and draped the blanket over his shoulders. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome. Cozy up, ’cause this could take a while.” I flexed my knuckles and started to reach for the first bar, but paused instead. “Or do you want to go first?” “No, thanks. I’m not good at anything that requires coordination. And those bars are germy. I have Purell in my pocket, but when I fall—” “I’ll catch you,” I intercepted. “YOLO, Nedster. I don’t want to go back to that party, and I don’t really want to go home. And you don’t either.” “I don’t?” “Nope. You’d rather hang out with me.” I waggled my brows comically. I jumped from the pirate ship before he could argue, then pointed at the bar above me and motioned for him to get moving. “What about the blanket?” He chuckled when I rolled my eyes. “Okay, fine. But I want to change the rules. If I get to the other side without falling, I should get another prize.” “Another one? That seems kinda greedy, but all right,” I teased, crooking my forefinger. “Here goes nothing.” Ned sighed as he stood, glancing from the row of bars to me and back again. He clutched the first one with both hands…and immediately fell. I caught him around his waist and held him closer than necessary, so he brushed my chest before his feet hit the ground. I didn’t let him go. I stared at his mouth and licked my lips. “It’s okay. Try it again.” “Um…all right.” Ned let out a nervous chuckle as he set one hand on my shoulder and the other on the bar. I let go when he gripped both hands around one bar, then reached for the next. And the next. At the halfway mark I cheered him on with a loud whoop, pumping my fist in the air and counting down the bars left. Five, four, three, two… He dropped like a lead balloon…and sure, I caught him again. But let’s get something straight. Ned wasn’t a small person. Sure, he was on the skinny side, but he was at least six feet tall. I didn’t exactly “catch” him. It was more a matter of pulling him against me and holding on. I fully admit that my maneuver was premeditated. But my goofy, off-the-cuff quest to steal a few more minutes with my crush backfired big time. I didn’t count on my body’s reaction. I swallowed hard and brushed my sleeve over my nose. “Maybe we should, um…” He nodded, but he didn’t move. And neither did I.

Purchase at Amazon

Meet the Author

Lane Hayes is grateful to finally be doing what she loves best. Writing full-time! It’s no secret Lane loves a good romance novel. An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters. These days she prefers the leading roles to both be men. Lane discovered the M/M genre a few years ago and was instantly hooked. Her debut novel was a 2013 Rainbow Award finalist and subsequent books have received Honorable Mentions, and were winners in the 2016, 2017, and 2018-2019 Rainbow Awards. She loves red wine, chocolate and travel (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband in a newly empty nest.

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Release Blitz: Hungry for Love by Rick R. Reed


Title: Hungry for Love

Author: Rick R. Reed

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: May 11, 2020

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 63300

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, romance, author, dating sites, dishonesty, duplicity, best friends

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Synopsis

Nate Tippie and Brandon Wilde are gay, single, and hoping to meet that special man, even though fate has not yet delivered him to their doorstep. Nate’s sister, Hannah, and her kooky BFF, Marilyn, are poised to help fate with that task by creating a profile on the gay dating site, OpenHeartOpenMind. They are only exploring, but when a face and body are needed for the created persona, they use Nate as the model. When Brandon comes across the false profile, he falls for the guy he sees online. Keeping up the charade, Hannah begins corresponding with him, posing as Nate. However, real complications begin when Brandon wants to meet Nate, who doesn’t know he’s being used in the online dating ruse. Hannah and Marilyn concoct another story and send Nate out to let the guy down gently. But when Nate and Brandon meet, they feel an instant and powerful pull toward each other. Cupid seems to have shot his bow, but how do Nate and Brandon climb out from under a mountain of deceit without letting go of their chance at love?

Excerpt

Hungry for Love Rick R. Reed © 2020 All Rights Reserved Brandon Wylde faced the form on his iMac screen with something akin to terror. Or maybe the emotion causing his mind to go blank and his heart to beat more swiftly could more rightly be called performance anxiety. What was causing this fear of failure and quickened breath was the registration page for a gay dating website called OpenHeartOpenMind. Brandon had been all over the Internet, searching for a site that would put him in touch with other gay men looking for romance and the promise of something lasting and not for hookups. Now, there was no shortage of the former—the hookup sites were rampant, and as much as Brandon felt that “to each his own” was a motto worth living by, these sites were not his own. A close-up picture of an asshole (in the literal sense) or a hard dick might be titillating to some, but to Brandon it was simply a bore. How could one tell if one wanted to even “hook up” when seeing only a faceless body part? The idea gave Brandon the creeps. Did we have sex with genitals alone? No, we had sex with entire human beings, for Christ’s sake. No matter how big and thick the dick was or how open and inviting the asshole (literal, again), Brandon couldn’t imagine a meeting of any sort with simply a body part. His “pickiness,” as his man-whore friend Christian always said, was what kept Brandon alone and yearning at age twenty-nine. “Just go online. You can have a hot guy delivered to your door within an hour, like a pizza, a delicious, mouthwatering pepperoni pizza. Hold the cheese!” Christian was no stranger to the embraces of many men, culled from sites like Manhunt, Adam4Adam, or Craigslist (or as Margaret Cho referred to it—the Penny Saver of dick) and, more lately, Grindr and Scruff. Christian swore by these electronic connections and, as far as Brandon could tell from their happy-hour conversations, took advantage of their charms on an almost daily basis. Brandon shook his head and wondered if what Christian was shopping for online was more a fix than a human connection. Brandon knew what he himself was, what he had, and the condition was incurable. He was a romantic. As much as his hormones told him that all he really required in this world was a warm place to bury his dick, his more developed senses begged to differ. Brandon wanted someone with whom he felt a special connection, someone with whom there was that magical spark he read about in the gay romance novels he devoured with increasing frequency, to fill the void missing in his life. Brandon wanted chocolates and flowers. He wanted love poetry. He wanted surprise weekend getaways to remote mountain cabins or quaint bed-and-breakfasts. He wanted someone to curl up next to on the couch, falling asleep together to some old black-and-white movie. He wanted someone with whom he could share not only his body, but his life. Christian told him, “You’re never going to find the man of your dreams, unless you bring some of those wet dreams you’re still having at your advanced age to life! Just get laid! No man’s going to buy the merchandise without a free sample.” Really, Christian? Really? And why are you still alone, then? Brandon knew Christian spent almost all of his free time online. Hell, Brandon could even count on Christian to be on his phone, on Grindr or Scruff, when they were out to dinner or one of the clubs. Brandon would twiddle his thumbs with Christian nearby, oblivious and texting furiously, always on the prowl for his next hookup, who usually lurked somewhere nearby. Why was the man never satisfied? Brandon had a secret, one which he had never shared with anyone, especially Christian. He was almost a virgin. He had only two pathetic sexual experiences on his résumé. First, there was an embarrassing, guilt-ridden “affair” back in high school that had lasted for all of two weeks (although Brandon wished for more). And the one time, back in college, when he had met his second paramour in the basement men’s room of King Library on the Miami University (Ohio) campus. The guy wanted Brandon simply to kneel down between the stalls so he could blow him, but Brandon was far too fearful to engage in such an act and even then, he wanted more—like to see his cocksucker’s face. Besides, Brandon wasn’t even sure why the guy kept putting his hand under the stall, not knowing then it was a signal for him to kneel on the floor. So Brandon, romantic at heart that he was, simply grasped the signaling hand and held it. This prompted his tearoom trick to flee the bathroom—and Brandon followed him outside. Somehow, in the stairwell outside the men’s room, Brandon convinced his bathroom suitor to take him home, to an off-campus apartment where the two young men quickly and furtively got one another off, worried about the imminent arrival of the guy’s straight roommate. That experience, sordid and unsatisfying as it was, left in Brandon a desire to chase windmills, if that’s what his idealism could be called. Brandon was not going to settle. If he couldn’t have the whole enchilada (the enchilada being a relationship that was satisfying not only on a physical level, but also on an emotional one), he wanted none of it. Unfortunately for Brandon, he had come of age during a time when Internet and even smartphone connections made hooking up fast and efficient. Brandon conceded those connections might possess those benefits, but they were not for him. He was interested in both of a man’s heads, thank you very much. And he would not settle for less. He believed a man who thought the same was out there. Somewhere. Which is what brought him, right now, to the registration site for OpenHeartOpenMind. When he had finally landed upon the dating website, he was thrilled to find their mission statement on the home page, one that dovetailed with his own inclinations. It read: We here at OpenHeartOpenMind believe in old-fashioned romance. If you’re looking for impersonal, easy sex and lots of it, there are plenty of other sites that cater to your interests. Go for them. OpenHeartOpenMind is for the man who wants to date, who knows that sometimes delayed gratification can make the rewards all the sweeter. OpenHeartOpenMind is for gay men who think the road to love is paved not just with physical attraction (although we’d be lying if we said that doesn’t play a big part!), but with mutual respect, shared interests, and the common goal of wanting more than just merging genitals, but merging hearts and minds as well. Good luck on your dating journey! Below the mission statement were icons that urged the potential user to sign up and the current user to sign in.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Meet the Author

Real Men. True Love. Rick R. Reed is an award-winning and bestselling author of more than fifty works of published fiction. He is a Lambda Literary Award finalist. Entertainment Weekly has described his work as “heartrending and sensitive.” Lambda Literary has called him: “A writer that doesn’t disappoint…” Find him at www.rickrreedreality.blogspot.com. Rick lives in Palm Springs, CA, with his husband, Bruce, and their fierce Chihuahua/Shiba Inu mix, Kodi.

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Tuesday, May 12, 2020

Release Blitz: Awakening by Seanian O'Meidhir and Connal Braginsky


Title: Awakening

Series: Darklight, Book One

Author: Sean Ian O’Meidhir & Connal Braginsky

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: May 11, 2020

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 93100

Genre: Paranormal, LGBTQIA+, immortal, psychic ability, therapist, vampires, paranormal

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Synopsis

Nathen was recently diagnosed with autism, and he’s a newly created vampire. His maker, a multinational corporation with its finger on the pulse of the technology industry, has recruited him to stop a terrorist plot. In the process, he meets Cameron, a telepath and psychologist, who has a troubled past he keeps locked up in the shadows of his psyche. Nathen is confused by social cues and Cameron can barely block out the thoughts of others. Together, they find common ground, and with the help of their friend Syn, they work out the secrets of the terrorist group and learn that the plot is far greater than they could have imagined.

Excerpt

Awakening Sean Ian O’Meidhir & Connal Braginsky © 2020 All Rights Reserved Nathen Sterile. That was the name for a room like this. Brightly lit, the room had a mirrored wall reflecting the enormous, white, tempered glass-topped board table surrounded by at least forty, comfortable, white chairs. Sitting across from Nathen was a middle-aged, nondescript albeit impeccably dressed, man in a dark pin-striped suit that cost more than most people pay in monthly rent. He was sitting impossibly still with a demeanor of infinite patience and calm, observing Nathen with an unreadable expression. Behind him was a paper-thin monitor mounted on the wall that reflected the back of the man’s balding head, and Nathen. They were alone in the room, and there were two doors leading out on the side of the room opposite the mirror. What looked like an original Pollock hung between them, the only color in the room. “Oh good, Mr. Hale. You are with us. Welcome to your new…position.” The man’s voice was as boring as his appearance, though there was something strange about the way he spoke. Nathen couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He even sounded blasé, as if he had given this speech a hundred times before. “It is good to have you as the newest member of the Impetus family.” Impetus? Nathen knew that company. He may have only been twenty-two years old and more concerned about playing World of Warcraft than following Fortune 500 companies, but he knew that corporation had its hands in just about everyone’s pots. He became distracted by his reflection in the monitor and thought his raven hair, which was usually unkempt, looked uncharacteristically styled. The man held up a finger as if to silence, though Nathen had not made a sound. “You have been recruited for an extraordinary purpose. And while I am certain you may have questions, please hold them until I am finished. Here is your on-boarding packet.” He referenced a single sheet as he pushed a small pile of papers across the table, sitting a mahogany Montblanc pen atop them. “I will need you to read through this stack of papers and sign where there is highlighted space…” Nathen considered the huge stack of papers, then shook his head. Wait…he had spaced out again. How much did the man just say he was going to be paid? “…As long as you remain with the Company, we will see to all of your needs. Of course, you are welcome to hunt as you see fit, as long as it does not reflect poorly on the Company. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Please, read and sign, and we will move to the next step. I will explain everything you need to know about your first assignment. Oh, and what being a vampire means.” A whole slew of thoughts and emotions went through Nathen’s mind as he adjusted his glasses. The sheer amount of information was overwhelming, and because he didn’t have time to process it all. The only things he had paid attention to were the money figures and the fact they had mentioned benefits for his family. How did I get here? I didn’t sit for an interview, did I? Did I even apply for this job? And what is it about that man’s speech? He sat still for a long minute, sorting and retracing his steps after leaving the office of the psychologist. He had been there that morning after two days of testing the previous week, only to have the diagnosis of Autism confirmed, which he had not yet fully processed. The short of it was that he had a social communication deficit and didn’t pick up on everything in social interactions. It explained why he was confused when people were supposedly being sarcastic, and he never had been able to tell if someone was flirting with him. His doctor had told him he saw things as black and white, but missed the rainbow. It had made Nathen laugh at the time, though the doctor hadn’t laughed with him, so he stopped. But he had found it funny that he was missing rainbows. Nathen’s eyes darted as he was sorting his visual memory. Finally, he admitted, “I’m sorry. I’m confused as to how I got here. And I don’t remember applying for the position you are offering. Um…what is it that I’m getting hired to do?” As the words left his mouth, he noticed something strange about how his teeth and tongue moved, as if there was something new, though he couldn’t place what was different. He reached up to his chin feeling it for pain. Maybe he had been knocked out with a punch? The man arched one eyebrow almost imperceptibly and stared at Nathen, speaking slowly, “You are being hired for your computer prowess, Mr. Hale. We are aware of your unique abilities to find your way into just about any system you attempt to enter, either legally or illegally. You will be putting your talents to work for us, and for the greater good if I may be so bold. Your first assignment will be to assist us in defeating those who are currently threatening children and their families, a story I am certain you have heard about. I will tell you more once you have officially accepted the position.” The man tapped the on-boarding paperwork that he had pushed over moments before. “And, you did not apply. You are being drafted.” “I don’t know what you mean by ‘illegal,’” Nathen protested, his mind racing as he tried to figure out if he had done anything to worry about with his latest online endeavors. Quickly trying to cover up, Nathen explained, “I’m paid to find vulnerabilities in systems, hired by companies to discover and report. And how did I get here? The last thing I remember before waking up here is leaving the doctor’s office.” Nathen picked up the forms and started reading them, then glanced back up as his thoughts replayed what the man had been saying. It sometimes took him a few minutes to catch up if he wasn’t paying strict attention. “And what do you mean by ‘Vampire?’ Is that the internal project name I’ll be working on?” The man fixed Nathen with a stern glare. “Do not play games, Mr. Hale. You are what is known by many as a ‘hacker’ and engage in a number of extracurricular activities I am certain you do not wish everyone to know about. But we do know. And that skill set makes you valuable. Please sign, and I will move forward with explaining everything else.” Nathen thought about it, reasoning that it was a competitive salary for California and appreciated that his family would be covered. Because his mother was an attorney, Nathen knew never to sign a contract without reading it first. Trying to be polite, Nathen asked, “Do you mind if I read over the contract so I know what I am getting into?” The man waved his hand, a gesture of patient permission, with a slight inclination of his head as a way of acknowledgement. One of his hands gently came to rest on the other, both folded in front of him atop the leather portfolio as he stared ahead, returning to a state of perfect calm.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Meet the Author

Connal Braginsky is a software engineer who lives in San Diego, California. Diagnosed with high functioning autism, Connal sometimes struggles in social situations, but has an inner world that is always incredibly rich. With an insatiable thirst for knowledge about many esoteric things, Connal brings a lot of personal philosophies and interests to writing. Sean Ian O’Meidhir is a psychologist who lives in San Francisco, California. Sean is a hedonist who believes in living for today, living every day to the fullest, and enjoying as much as possible. Sean has been gaming since adolescence and has written about and played hundreds of lives, reveling in the chance to take on new personalities, dramas, even disorders.

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Release Blitz: Finding Fisher by M. J. James


Title: Finding Fisher

Author: M.J. James

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: May 11, 2020

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 62600

Genre: Contemporary, contemporary, dark, family drama, hurt-comfort, reunited, tearjerker

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Synopsis

When Ian Fisher walked away from his life a year ago, he had no plans to ever return to where he grew up. However, after a run-in with the cops, he’s forced to move in with his sister Rachel—in his dead parents’ house. Back home, Ian can’t stop thinking about his ex, Sam. He still loves him and knows Sam loves him too, and he will stop at nothing to convince Sam to face his true feelings. But Sam has moved on. He has a fiancé, and he rejects Ian’s repeated attempts to fix their relationship. Ian deals with those rejections by getting lost in the bottom of a bottle, refusing to face how messed up his life truly is. After weeks in the hospital—the victim of a viscous hate crime—and learning of Sam’s upcoming wedding, Ian has no choice but to fix his life to show Sam that he can be the man he needs. But rehab changes Ian, and he just might be ready to say goodbye to Sam forever. Through addiction, violence, and self-preservation, Ian must learn to accept himself if he hopes to win back the man he loves.

Excerpt

Finding Fisher M.J. James © 2020 All Rights Reserved Waking up in your own vomit sucked. For Ian Fisher, sleeping facedown in the previous night’s dinner was more the norm than not. He had lost count months ago how many times he’d been jackknifed over a toilet as the sun came up, regurgitating the pain of the day before. Every single time, he remembered exactly how shitty his life had become and how bad he had fucked everything up. As last night’s brew rumbled in his gut and he started to come around, things sure as hell smelled like any other day. The rancid stench of stale beer that had stewed in stomach acid all night; the sour smell of piss-soaked pants, still warm against his crotch; the chalky taste of God knows how many different drugs clinging to the walls of his mouth. The all too familiar odors crept up his nose and down his throat, and Ian pulled himself off the floor. He stepped over people he didn’t even know as he hugged the wall to the bathroom, ignoring the merry-go-round he could never get off. He had to piss. And puke. No time to choose so he did them both at once. Warmth snaking down his leg and the putrid stink slapping him in the face only made him heave harder into the toilet. Chunks of—shit, what had he eaten?—something plopped in the grungy bowl, the rot and funk watering his eyes. He shut off his brain like always, letting his body fend for itself until the torture ended. After emptying his gut, he slid to the floor and curled into the fetal position; the tiles cool against his skin. What the fuck am I doing? He had asked himself the same question before, hundreds of times over the past year or so. Each time, no answer. Just silence. This time, if he closed his eyes tight and blocked out the nausea and the pain and listened close, he could hear a faint voice, a whisper, repeating over and over in his head: Stop, stop, stop. He opened his eyes. The carnival ride that had become his life had begun its last revolution, the spinning slowing to a manageable speed. He gripped the bowl he’d just poured his guts into and pulled himself up. He rested against the rim, the chill of the porcelain blanketing his back in goose bumps. He wasted a quick second wondering where his shirt had disappeared to before shaking the thought from his head. No doubt the shirt was trashed, sopping wet with his own sick. Though he took longer than last time, Ian somehow managed to stand. His newborn-like legs threatened to give him one last fuck you as they shook and wobbled. He braced against the vanity, eyes focused on a half-squeezed toothpaste tube, an old Tampax box, a couple of empty condom wrappers, anything to stop the urge to say “fuck this” and dunk his head in the toilet again. Once he had his center of gravity back on track, he raised his head. Big mistake. His reflection in the scum-streaked mirror hanging over the sink scared the hell out of him. He had aged well beyond his 24 years. Like something straight out of The Walking Dead. Like he had been rotting for, well, a year. Because he had. A slow, painful one. A deliberate one. A rot from the inside out. The decay had started deep, quiet and stealthy and hidden, but had begun to show around the edges, reaching the surface so others could see what he had known all along. He couldn’t ignore this anymore. Time to choose: stop the rot, or let death consume him. He slid achy hands over the faucet and gave the chrome fingers a slow turn before scooping up the cool water and drenching his face. Over. And over. And over. More water. Deluges of water. His eyes burned like a son of a bitch, but he kept up the onslaught. He scrubbed and scrubbed as he splashed, more desperate than ever to be clean. He needed a shower. Nope. A shit idea if ever he had one. The room still spun like a top, and his legs were itching to give out on him. He kept drowning his face at the sink instead until his brain worked again. Well, as good as possible since he still floated in a cloud of crap left over by whatever the fuck he had ingested last night. A couple more handfuls of water before he picked up a towel and pressed the cotton against his face. He lingered over his eyes, scared to see his haggard reflection again. Every cell in his body wanted to turn around, walk out, and get drunk again. High again. Mind-numbingly wasted again. No. Fuck that. Do it. He dropped the towel and stared at himself. Stared hard at his reflection. The deep-set, blackened eye sockets. The sunken, pocked cheeks. Chapped lips. Greasy hair. “Fuckin’ loser,” he eked out, his voice a jagged rasp, wedged between a whisper and early morning smoker’s growl. He punched the mirror. Again. Again. Over and over until glass crawled deep under his skin and pushed blood from his veins. He couldn’t do this anymore. Shit. He couldn’t remember the last time he had thought those words. Not in the past year, for sure. He hadn’t wanted to think dick in the past year. Just get drunk. Stay drunk. Get high. Stay high. But now… Ian shook his head. Crammed his hand in his pocket and pulled out salvation. “Fuck it.” One last glance at himself as the drug-of-the-moment skated over his mind and wiped out thoughts of fixing anything.

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Meet the Author

I’ve always wanted to be a writer (like most writers, I’m sure) but not until the last few years have I taken it seriously. I was always told growing up that I had to get a job and “earn my keep,” so I pushed my dream of writing a book to the back of my mind and entered the workforce. Fast-forward many, many years and here I am, trying to make a go at it. I stumbled across Blogger in 2010 and my world of writing exploded. I have met (via the web) so many amazing writers and industry professionals and book bloggers that have passed on their wisdom and experience and successes and failures. So many, in fact, that I have no excuse to sit down and write out the stories living in my head. Which is what I’m now attempting to do. I enjoy reading more than most other things (well, except maybe for writing. And TV. No way am I giving up my TV) . OUT OF THE ASHES is my first foray into the world of adult m/m and I am loving it!

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