excerpt

A World Apart by Mel Gough: Exclusive Guest Post, Blog Tour and Release Day Review

January 25, 2019 by Denise

Ben’s life appears perfect. He has a career to shine in and a beautiful family. But his marriage has broken down, and being a small-town cop is turning into a dead-end job.

Hot-headed troublemaker Donnie is used to being side-eyed by the fuzz. Getting dragged into the station for a crime he didn’t commit is no big surprise – but a cop who gives a damn sure is.

Ben has no clue how much a second encounter with the secretive redneck will shake up his life. Donnie’s sullen vulnerability arouses a passion Ben hasn’t felt for a long time. Soon, nothing matters but helping Donnie fight his demons. Can they carve a new life together out of the ashes?

Book Title: A World Apart (Loving Again Series, Book 1)

Author: Mel Gough

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: Black Jazz Design

Genre/s: Contemporary romance

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 51 000 words/197 pages

Release Date: January 25, 2019

The first book in a series of three, but can be read as standalone.

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First scene from A World Apart from second character’s POV (Donnie)

“What have we got, Lou?”

The voice is calm and quiet, and Donnie glances up. A cop he hasn’t seen before stands by the desk. He’s shorter than the other one, and not so muscled. His hair is blond, and kind of long for a policeman. He has one eyebrow raised as he waits for the clerk to answer.

Donnie stops his nervous shifting. His arms, bound behind him, prickle with tension. What’s happening? He bites his lip and sinks back into his misery. Why are these people not leaving him alone?

“How was court, brother?”

That’s the asshole cop who dragged him in. Donnie’s head jerks up. He balls his hands to fists, shifts on the narrow bench, away from the desk as far as he can. His neck prickles where the cop’s fingers gripped him hard when he shoved Donnie into the back of the patrol car. Donnie eyes the cop. He towers over the new guy, and his biceps ripple under the rolled-up sleeves. His dark eyes are like steel.

“You missed all the excitement,” he says to his blond colleague. “Saunders here knows some pretty colorful language, and he was none too happy to accompany us, neither.”

“Hence the handcuffs?” the second cop asks. His voice is flat, and he’s regarding his colleague from narrowed eyes. The first cop smirks.

“Wasn’t me that hit that kid,” Donnie mumbles. He can’t help himself. This is so unfair. “Told y’all I wasn’t in town.”

“And I told you this,” the first cop says. “We got witnesses placing you at the scene, smart-ass. It’s your word against theirs. Who’re we gonna believe, some deadbeat, or the boy’s mother?”

Donnie feels sick. The guy will do anything in his power to pin this on him. He wishes he could explain himself properly, but as always, when he needs them the most, Donnie can’t find the right words. And now they got him here. Nobody will give a shit. Nobody ever has. They’ll lock him up, and throw away the key.

Donnie sits up on the bench. With as much emphasis as he can he says, “It wasn’t me! Why’re you not listening?”

The other cop’s gaze is on him. In his rage and fear, it takes Donnie a moment to realize how kind and sad the man’s green eyes are. He steps in front of the big brute, shielding Donnie. “Why don’t you and I take Mr. Saunders through to the interrogation room for a statement?” he says to the first cop.

The brute nods, looking sour. When his colleague turns his back, he lunges for Donnie and grabs his arm. He’s lightning fast and takes Donnie by surprise. The cop’s fingers grip his arm so hard, Donnie suppresses a cry of pain. The other cop steps close again. “If you dislocate his shoulder there’ll be an awful lot of paperwork to fill in for both of us, brother.”

The first cop’s eyes bore into Donnie. Finally, he gives a grunt and lets go. Donnie’s arm throbs, his heart is racing. He has to screw up all his willpower not to flinch when the second cop says, “Would you come this way, please?” His voice is very calm. Instinctively, Donnie knows that this one means him no harm. He gets up stiffly from the bench.

He and the second cop are of equal height. He still regards Donnie with his calm, green eyes, and Donnie again thinks that the man looks sad.

He turns and walks down the hallway. A door on the right stands open. “In there,” the kind cop says. Donnie enters the room. When he turns, the brute is right there. Donnie backs away. “Turn around,” the cop says. Donnie doesn’t move.

“Sir, the sergeant will move the handcuffs to the front so you can sit down more comfortably,” the nice one says. Donnie narrows his eyes, regards him. He decides that he can believe it, so he turns around, and the brute unlocks one of the cuffs. Donnie turns again, and the cop yanks his arms roughly to lock the cuffs again. They’re too tight, but Donnie doesn’t say anything.

“Sit.” The brute indicates the metal table and chairs.

Donnie faces the one-way mirror, and quickly looks away. Floyd will be pissed when he hears about this. The two cops sit down opposite, chair legs scraping over concrete. Donnie is getting a headache. Just great.

There’s silence. Donnie looks up, into the kind cop’s expectant eyes. “Do you mind if we record this conversation?” the officer asks.

Donnie’s heart sinks. “You’re arresting me?” Floyd would tell him not to say anything at all.

“No, we’re not.” The kind cop’s voice is gentle and patient. “But having a record of what we talk about will aid your cause.”

Can he refuse to answer the cops’ questions? Will they let him go if he does? Donnie doesn’t dare risk it. He doesn’t want the big one to get angry again. His hands shake with the adrenaline and he clasps them tightly in his lap. He shrugs.

“Sir.” The nice cop again. “Please state for the protocol: Do you mind if we record this conversation?” Donnie frowns. Why does the man look upset? He feels in his gut that this cop doesn’t want to trick him, or harm him in any way.

“Go ahead,” he murmurs.

The big cop presses a small button on a panel, and the other one says, “Statement protocol, September twenty-second, eleven forty-five a.m. Officers present: Sergeant Ben Griers and Sergeant Jason Browne.” He nods at Donnie. “Please state your full name for the record, sir.”

“Donnie Saunders.” He’s surprised to see Griers giving him a small smile. Donnie keeps his eyes on him. It’s a damn sight nicer than looking at Browne glowering. And it keeps him calm.

Griers says, “Officer Browne will now ask you a few questions.”

Browne looks sour. “All right,” he says. “Mr. Saunders, your pickup truck was seen driving away after hitting Dennis Mallory on his bike while he was riding home after school yesterday afternoon at about three thirty p.m.”

“I told y’all three times now, it wasn’t me.” Donnie is getting so tired of this. His heart beats fast again. “Why is it that you can’t hear me?”

Officer Griers interrupts, “Let’s rephrase the question: Sir, where were you yesterday at three thirty p.m.?”

Now what? It’s bad that they don’t want to believe him. But it would be worse if they knew the truth. But it’s Donnie’s only choice, he can see that well enough. He swallows, then mumbles, “Was in Atlanta. Had an appointment at the DFCS.”

“I need to know who you were there to see,” Griers says. “A phone call to the person you had the appointment with will clear you.”

Donnie feels exhausted. What does it matter if the cop finds out? He can’t arrest him for it. At least then they’ll let him go. With any luck, he’ll never see Griers again, and what the cop thinks of him doesn’t matter. Though his gut clenches with shame as he imagines Griers looking at him with disgust when he finds out the truth. Donnie takes a deep breath. “Stacy Miller.”

“Thank you.” Griers looks at his partner with narrowed eyes, then gets up. “Jason, stay with Mr. Saunders. I’m going to call Ms. Miller.”

Donnie doesn’t want to be left alone with the other one. He shifts in his chair, away from the cop, and doesn’t look at him. He’s sure Browne is still glaring. He can feel the man’s fury.

For a few minutes they sit in silence. Donnie’s heart races like mad. He tries not to think about what Officer Griers is currently discussing with the woman from the DFCS’s Medicaid team, but it’s no use. Why does it even matter to him? He feels sick with shame.

“You’re lucky it’s not me making that call,” Browne says after the long silence. It makes Donnie jump and glance up. He wonders if the tape is still running. He’s about to answer back angrily, but at that moment the door opens.

“Mr. Saunders, your alibi for yesterday afternoon was confirmed by Ms. Miller,” Officer Griers says. “You’re free to leave.”

And that’s all he says. Donnie can’t believe it. The cop actually came through on his word. After a moment of shocked relief, he raises his hands without looking at Browne. “You gonna let me keep them as a souvenir?”

As soon as Browne has unshackled his wrists, Donnie is on his feet. He’s trying not to run as he makes for the door. He wants nothing but to leave this place. But he forces himself to stop when he reaches Griers. “Thanks,” he says without looking the cop in the eye. Then he hurries down the corridor.

Rubbing his wrists, Donnie pushes through the station entry, blinking in the sunlight. He stops and takes a deep, shaky breath.

What a fucking week he’s having. Floyd will be pissed. But as Donnie gets into his truck he feels grateful to Officer Griers. It’s not often that anyone in authority is kind to a Saunders.

All the way back home Donnie wonders why the officer looked so sad. He wishes he could do something to return the favor and make Griers feel better.

Mmmkay, so, this is the first I’ve read of this author, and the blurb had me intrigued. I’ve got a thing for cops and dads, so this one seemed right up my alley, right?

Let’s discus…. Ben is a cop who made his career his life, much to the dismay of his wife, who got tired of seemingly being a single parent. I mean, she might as well have been, right? We don’t learn of his wife and kid right away, they aren’t even mentioned until well after he meets Donnie at the station after being arrested for something he didn’t do. His partner, Jason, was a real jerk and treated him terribly before even knowing if he committed the crime or not. He didn’t, but instead of apologizing, like a normal person or being a good cop, he just keeps on with the sneering and bad attitude. I didn’t like him, even after he apologized at the end. I hope the next book isn’t about him, because I won’t be bothered with him.

Also, the book is supposed to be set in Georgia, which, I could tell some of the dialogue was thrown in to sound southern, but most of the time, it just didn’t work for me. There was also some English words thrown in for good measure….What the heck is a switchboard? Do we have those over here? What year is it? I’ve never in my life called anyplace at all, ever and gotten a switchboard. And here in the south, we drink sweet tea… it’s like our water… we don’t do “cuppa’s”

Okay, so aside from that, I liked Donnie. I’m not sure how he lived, only volunteering at an AA center, working with the children… I mean, how did he buy food? Gas for his truck? Basic necessities? His brother? Who you will also not like, treats him like dirt and beats up on him. Luckily he leaves midway through the story and when he comes back….he’s gone again. Which was just fine with me…

There’s an insta-love thing kind of happening here, the guys meet at a meeting and Ben gets really interested and involved in Donnie’s life. Donnie carries a lot of baggage and I always enjoy a good hurt/comfort story, and this one definitely had that. There are many obstacles for these two; illness, divorce, other family, death of a family member, a job that Ben seems to never go to, a best friend that’s a jerk and not very best friend like…. It was a lot. But through it all, Ben was there for Donnie. He never wavered, he was great, and I liked that for Donnie.

One thing I really hated, were those nurses at the hospital… calling Donnie names and blatantly not helping him.. did they get fired? In trouble? Arrested? I mean…. Seriously? I need justice for crap like that. You can’t just not mention them again. That made me sick. I’m petty, I need repercussions when someone is bigoted, negligent and just plain nasty. Just thought I’d note that because it bugged me the whole book.

Overall though, it was a gritty, real kind of story. Life isn’t always easy, there are sicknesses and disease, crazy family, abuse, and then supportive families and good kids, people willing to help… all the good bad and ugly. I was glad to see that eventually, things worked out for these two…

3 pieces of eye candy from me

Mel was born in Germany, where she spent the first twenty-six years of her life (with a one-year stint in Los Angeles). She has always been fascinated by cultures and human interaction, and got a Masters in Social Anthropology. After finishing university she moved to London, where she has now lived for ten years.

If you were to ask her parents what Mel enjoyed the most since the age of six, they would undoubtedly say “Reading!” She would take fifteen books on a three-week beach holiday, and then read all her mom’s books once she’d devoured her own midway through week two.

Back home in her mom’s attic there’s a box full of journals with stories Mel wrote when she was in her early teens. None of the stories are finished, or any good. She has told herself bedtime stories as far back as she can remember.

In her day job, Mel works as PA and office manager. No other city is quite like London, and Mel loves her city. The hustle and bustle still amaze and thrill her even after all these years. When not reading, writing or going to the theater, Mel spends her time with her long-time boyfriend, discussing science or poking fun at each other.

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Perfect Match by AG Meiers: Blog Tour and Exclusive Excerpt

January 18, 2019 by Denise

Secrets can derail even the most powerful attraction.

Logger Sven Larson has never found a man worth publicly coming out of the closet for. But his family has other plans. As a thirtieth birthday gift, his mother hires the online dating service Perfect Match to find Sven the love of his life. To say Sven isn’t thrilled is an understatement, but it’s too late to cancel, and Jayden Calver arrives.

Perfect Match’s success rate is unsurpassed, but they don’t come by it honestly: if a client can’t be matched, the agency uses a stand-in to fulfil their guarantee and protect their profit.

Tough luck has left Jayden in debt, and playing Perfect Match’s deceptive game is his only option. So he travels — sparkling toenails and all — to a remote camp deep in the mountains to meet Sven Larson and pretend to be his perfect match for a few days.

Sparks fly on first contact. But as the two men get closer, Sven grows more and more suspicious of Jayden, and Jayden struggles with guilt over his deceit. They both want a future together, but first they must find the courage to be honest with themselves and each other.

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“So, they offered you a job?” Jayden interrupted Sven’s thoughts as they settled down to eat. Before Sven could answer, Jayden took a bite of pasta, closed his eyes, and let out a delighted moan. “Mmm, so good. Wow! Orla is a fantastic cook.” After his little display of pleasure, he waved his fork around, gesturing for Sven to answer his question.

“Yes.” Sven adjusted himself under the table. Did City Boy have any idea how much he affected him? Desperate for a distraction, he started to talk.

“I worked in a logging camp a few seasons, so I know what it’s about. And I’ve also written a few articles about safety on the job, but I’ve never done a project like this. It’d be different. There’d be a team of writers and editors. There needs to be a real plan. Terminology needs to be consistent, so you need glossaries and style guides. There are also tools now that will allow you to recycle content in different output formats . . .” Sven looked up. Jayden had stopped eating and sat with a smirk on his face. Okay, yes, it really is a great job offer. No question. Sven’s ears heated as he stuffed a huge piece of pasta in his wayward mouth. They ate in silence for a while.

Finally, Jayden offered his opinion. “So, on the pro side we have good pay, fixed job with benefits, and what sounds like a cool new challenge. Why are you not jumping on it? There must be more than shirts and ties under cons.”

“It’s a temporary contract. Three years. And the whole project is headquartered in Vancouver. Long-term I don’t want to be in the city. And it’s just not my thing. I want to be able to see the mountains when I step out of my home. Not traffic jams.” Sven got up to get the water. “Refill?” he asked waving the bottle in Jayden’s direction.

“Yeah, please.”

Without being prompted, Sven gave Jayden another piece of lasagna.

Jayden tilted his head to the side as if he was contemplating Sven’s words. “So, you want to settle down somewhere permanently, and this job would delay you by three years, right? I get that. That’s definitely a valid reason.”

Jayden had connected the dots pretty quickly, while Sven’s family hadn’t picked up on his real concerns at all. Sven was tired of moving, tired of starting new, finding a new place to live, new friends. Sometimes it felt like being in foster care all over again. With Duncan’s death, he had lost a fixed point in his life, and it made him yearn for something more permanent than yet another temporary home.

For a while they simply focused on devouring their food, but then Sven added, “Also, I don’t want to leave Orla alone right now. Vancouver is hours away. I couldn’t come home every weekend.”

At his words, Jayden grew silent. For a few minutes, he picked at his pasta without eating much. What could Sven have said that put him off? Maybe it was just the fact that Sven wasn’t too keen on living in Vancouver. Jayden was clearly a city kid through and through.

“Eat up!” Sven grumbled. “You can use a little extra.”

Jayden ignored him and pushed his plate back. “My mom hated that I stopped school when she got sick. Absolutely hated it. She never had the opportunity to go to college because she got pregnant with me. So she was really, really excited for me when I started. She worked hard for it all her life. To give me the chance, you know?” Jayden’s voice sounded a little hoarse. “When the first test results came in and we still had hope, she tried to get me to go back, but after a while it was clear that this would be our last time together, so she stopped sending me away. Toward the end, I had to promise her every day that I wouldn’t give up on finishing my degree.”

Surprised by the sudden personal admissions, Sven wondered where Jayden was going with this. So far, he wasn’t quite clear what Jayden’s story had to do with his own dilemma, but he stayed quiet, giving Jayden a chance to continue.

“Marketing was my mom’s dream. If she hadn’t gotten pregnant with me, that’s what she would have chosen. And she would have been awesome at it, but me . . .” He let out a helpless snort. “I’m not creative. Not one bit, but I never told her. Back then, I thought it was the right thing to do, but every time I promised her to go back and finish my degree, I hurt inside. They were the last days with my mom, and there was this huge lie between us. I . . .” Jayden’s voice broke. He reached out for his water glass, but pulled back his shaking hand, his eyes brimming with unshed tears.

He was beautiful. Vibrating with raw, honest emotions. So beautiful and so fucking brave. Being this exposed, most men Sven knew would run at this moment. Remember something they’d forgotten in the lodge. Excuse themselves to the bathroom. At least make a stupid joke. Not Jayden. With grief, regret, and sadness written all over his face, he wasn’t hiding anything.

“All I want to say, really, is don’t put this on Orla. It’s not fair. Makes sense now that she is trying to push you into this so hard. She loves you. She doesn’t want to be the reason you miss out on a great opportunity.”

Sven said the first thing that came to his mind. “So you think staying here with my mother, who lost my dad only a few months ago, is wrong?” Shit. When had he gotten so defensive that he couldn’t have a normal conversation anymore?

Jayden quickly stood up and took his half-eaten plate to the sink. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I overstepped. My fault. You should have told me to mind my own business.”

“Listen, I hear you. I understand what you’re saying. Truth is, I never had a job offer like this before. To work as a full-time writer. I never thought of it as a job. Maybe I’m just . . . out of my comfort zone.” Yeah, that sounded better than plain scared. “And with my dad gone, Orla’s alone. It’s a difficult decision.”

“I think anyone who ever had to pull their life back together after losing someone they love understands that.”

Jayden turned away from him. His body was ridged and his breath uneven. Without much thinking, Sven stood and put his hands on Jayden’s shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles. He hated to see anybody in pain, and Jayden had lost the only person in the world who had truly cared about him. Now, he had nobody.

After a few tense seconds, Jayden let out a whispered sigh and leaned back. Sven slowly wrapped his arms around Jayden, whose body went limp as he melted into the embrace. Sven couldn’t help the ridiculous thought that Jayden fit perfectly into his arms. Madness! Jayden’s head was tucked under his chin, and Jayden’s soft hair tickled his jaw. In the end, it was Jayden who eventually stepped away to wash the dishes. Sven hadn’t wanted to let go of him.

Eighteen years ago, AG Meiers came to the US for adventure and stayed for love. Currently, she lives in New England with her husband and two awesome kids—balancing work, friends and family, and writing.

When she has some free time, her favorite thing to do is travel and visit new places. Her past trips have already brought her to a variety of countries on four continents. She never passes up an opportunity to experience different cultures, diverse people and amazing locations.

Even though she has been dreaming up stories all her life, she has only recently started to write them down and share them with the world. As a writer she loves to put her characters through a lot of challenges, conflict and heartbreak, before she allows them to find their happy-ever-after.

Connect with AG Meiers:

The Spirit Key by Parker Williams: Exclusive Guest Post, Blog Tour, Excerpt and Giveaway

January 15, 2019 by Denise

TCO is super excited to have Parker Williams here talking about his new book The Spirit Key, a book that is outside of his “normal genre”. That being said, I don’t know if I would even agree that Parker has a “normal genre”. He has written all over the map within lgbt books, as well as hitting some of more difficult and challenging points. I’m excited to read this one, even though it might be out of my “normal genre” of reading. It’ll be interesting to see where he takes this one. So, check out his guest post on writing outside that genre, the “grab you and keep you” excerpt, and the great giveaway as well! Thanks for stopping by Parker!

When he was eight years old, Scott Fogel died. Paramedics revived him, but he came back changed. Ghosts and spirits tormented Scott for over a decade until, thinking he was going mad, he did the only thing he could.

He ran—leaving behind his best friend, Tim Jennesee.

Scott’s had five normal, ghost-free years in Chicago, when the spirit of Tim’s mother comes to him and begs him to go home because Tim’s in trouble and needs him.

He isn’t prepared for what he finds when he goes home—a taller and sexier Tim, but a Tim who hasn’t forgiven Scott for abandoning him… a Tim whose body is no longer his own. The ghost of a serial murderer has attached itself to Tim, and it’s whispering dark and evil things. It wants Tim to kill, and it’s becoming harder for Tim to resist. To free the man who has always meant so much to him, Scott must unravel the mystery of the destiny he shares with Tim.

Book Length: 74,439 words

Book Categories: Ghosts/spirits/paranormal

Author Name: Parker Williams

Book Name: The Spirit Key

Part of a series? If yes, can this book be read as a standalone? This is book one of Lock and Key.

Release Date: January 15, 2019

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Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Cover Artist: Reese Dante

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Dreamspinner Press

Stepping outside of your usual genre

I know a lot of people hate it when an author does something they haven’t done before. They’ve got expectations of what a book will be when they hear an author is writing something, and then they get nervous that it won’t be as good or might be too different. But the thing is, as authors, we need to step outside the lines once in a while so that we can take our writing in a different direction.

I’ve done paranormal before, but they were books about shifters (my favorite type of stories). Then one night I had a dream about a ghost story. It was pretty vivid, and when I woke in the morning, I remembered most of the details and sat down to write it. That’s where Spirit Key came from.

In my not-overly-long career, I’ve done suspense (Haven’s Creed and Haven’s War), shifters (Protector of the Alpha and Scent of the Heart (and a quick thank you to Mary Phillips Wallace for that title!), BDSM (four of the Collars & Cuffs books, plus the three of Secrets with K.C. Wells). Each time, people wondered if a book would be as good as a romance. I’m not sure if they agree, but I think they turned out pretty well.

No one wants to get in a rut, and sometimes an author will have an idea that rides them hard, and has to be put to paper. The three books of the Links in the Chain series are kind of like that. This is my first solo attempt at doing a romance series. Lincoln was first, and then came Galen (Lincoln’s brother), and finally will be two characters you’ve yet to meet, but are related in a way. (True story: When I decided to write Stained Hearts, one of the character decided he was related to someone in Lincoln’s story, so my two books became three. Silly characters never follow the script.)

Anyway, back to the point of this post. Stepping outside your usual genre helps, I think, keep authors from getting into a rut. That is, if they want to try something different. Some people are perfectly happy—and totally skilled—at doing strictly romance. More power to them. Me? I get a story idea, and I’m going where the wind takes me.

I hope that people who come along for the ride are satisfied with my efforts. The Spirit Key will be, I hope, the first in a series. I’ve started the second book, and already killed a few people. As LM Somerton said, “Evil author.”

Thank you so much for having me and also for hosting my tour! 🙂

Parker Williams

SUMMER, 2002

WHAT MEMORY stands out most in your mind from when you were a kid? For many of my friends, it was getting a good grade on a test they were sure they’d fail, making a catch during a football game, or finding out the person they were crushing on liked them back. For others, it was more physical, like their first kiss or having sex for the first time.

For me, the one that topped that list was in the summer of 2002. The memory? Me dying. Well, almost dying. I mean, technically, I was dead for twenty-seven minutes, at least according to the paramedics and doctors.

See, I had gone down to the quarry with my brother and some of his friends. I was eight at the time, and to be invited to go along with the “big kids” was a heady thing.

Okay, fine. My mom told them they had to take me, but they weren’t supposed to let me know.

That’s not the point of the story, however. Still, between us, when your brother tells you that Mom said he had to take you and that you ruined his day by dying? That kind of sticks with you.

Anyway. The whole week had been hotter than hell—upper nineties, heat index topping a hundred, with no breeze at all. What made it worse was the humidity. Everyone complained their clothes stuck to them, and we all would have given anything for a bit of cool air. Those were the days you wanted to do nothing more than stretch out in front of the air conditioner and fantasize about being in the arctic.

Of course, those are also the times that drive Mom mad, like when we’re there, whining about how hot it is, and my brother announces he’s going swimming with his friends, and she tells him to take me along to the quarry with him.

Fine. I’m a little hostile over that memory, but in my defense, I died, so I think I have a right to be a tad grumpy.

Moving on….

There were a few old trees that stretched out over a pit of water. In the seventies, the place had been used to mine rocks that were crushed to use in gardens and the like. When the company that owned it shut down, it left a huge hole in the ground. Over time, it filled with water, which attracted kids from all over, wanting to swim. That was our destination for the day.

By the time we got there, all of our T-shirts had soaked with sweat. I distinctly remember looking at Cole Turner and seeing wisps of dark hair on his chest and wondering to myself what it would look like once he took his shirt off. I wasn’t sure why that thought flitted through my head, but it was gone just as quickly, because I saw Tim Jennesee sitting on a rock, taking off his shoes.

“Tim!”

He turned and smiled at me, waving like a freak. I took off running. Tim had been my best friend forever—which at the time was probably a few months, but in my eight-year-old mind, that qualified as a really long time—and seeing him there was a surprise. Normally he preferred to stay inside and play on the computer, indulging in game worlds like the Sims. Later he graduated to MMORPGs like EverQuest, with the promise that one day he would be creating them instead of playing someone else’s.

I got to where he sat and took my spot at his side. He nudged me with his shoulder. “I didn’t know you were going to be here!”

“Ryan asked me to come along.” See? I thought my brother was all cool and stuff. Shows how much I knew.

“Really? My mom said I had to get out of the house. I figured I’d come swimming for a while. I tried to call, but—”

“We were already on our way here.”

I hadn’t thought to call him, and I felt bad… for about three seconds. I was with Tim and the day had gotten a thousand times better. His dark hair shone in the sun, and his brown eyes sparkled. Being with him was enough to make me smile, and having him there with me made the day perfect.

Okay, here’s where things go to shit, so you’ll have to indulge me a bit. I don’t often discuss my death with people, because they ask all kinds of inane questions, and I’m so over that shit.

There was a big tree that stretched out over the watery pit. Someone had climbed it, tied off a rope, then knotted it at the other end. See, the idea was to grab hold, push off, and soar out into the nothingness, then arc high in the sky before letting go and plunging into the water, sinking, then rising once again until you broke the surface, then rushed to have another turn.

Doesn’t that sound idyllic? Like a Norman Rockwell painting or something?

Yeah, you’d think that.

It was my turn. I’d hedged about it all day, because I hated the idea of being so high in the air and falling. Ryan openly mocked me, and his friends teased me to no end. When Tim got up and announced he was going to do it, well, that raised the bar right there. How could my best friend do it, while I was too chicken?

Wrapping his hands around the rope, Tim ran and leaped off the edge, soaring into the air with a loud cry. Then, as he reached the apex of the arc, he let go. For a moment everything stopped, as he rose a little higher, then hung in the air before he dropped like a stone, laughing all the way.

When he broke the surface of the water a few seconds later, my heart started beating again.

“So, nerdy Tim can do it, but little Scotty is too much of a baby.”

It’s funny how you don’t remember how much of an ass your brother was when you were a kid, isn’t it?

“I’m not a baby!”

“Then prove it, chicken.”

“Fine!”

I stormed over to the rope and took hold of it. I glanced down into the murky pit, and my heart stuttered once more.

“Come on, Scott. It’s fun!”

Tim came jogging over, water sluicing down his chest, his hair matted to his forehead. Weirdly, that stray thought about Cole? Yeah, so over it. Now it was Tim that I was staring at.

“Okay.”

I was going to make Tim proud of me. I didn’t understand why, but thinking of him running over and hugging me, telling me how great I’d done? It became the only thought in my head at the moment.

I turned back and set myself, ready to do it. One quick glance at Tim, who nodded at me, and I rushed to the edge, jumped, and flew.

It was amazing. One second gravity has been conquered, and you’re flying up, up, up. Then you remember that everyone is gravity’s bitch, and you’re jerked back down. I hit the water, flush with pride over having done it.

When I flapped my arms to go back to the surface, though, that was when shit got real.

I couldn’t move my foot. Something had wrapped around it and held me below the surface. In my mind, a shark had grabbed me and was dragging me down. I struggled, trying to swim up, and my lungs burned.

You have to know, at this time, my mind had refused to believe I was going to die. It kept screaming for me to fight, to do whatever the hell I had to in order to get back to the surface. And I fought as hard as I could. Only….

At one point, I thought I’d gotten free, and my struggles to swim back to the surface intensified. I pushed hard against the water, trying to get up, back into the sun, but then I knew I was still stuck, and I had no more breath in my lungs.

I remember opening my mouth to scream for Tim to help me, but the murky water rushed in, and I choked, which led to more water being drawn into my body. Everything sort of went hazy and then shifted to black.

I’d died.

Parker Williams began to write as a teen, but never showed his work to anyone. As he grew older, he drifted away from writing, but his love of the written word moved him to reading. A chance encounter with an author changed the course of his life as she encouraged him to never give up on a dream. With the help of some amazing friends, he rediscovered the joy of writing, thanks to a community of writers who have become his family.

Parker firmly believes in love, but is also of the opinion that anything worth having requires work and sacrifice (plus a little hurt and angst, too). The course of love is never a smooth one, and happily-ever-after always has a price tag.

Website: www.parkerwilliamsauthor.com

Twitter: @ParkerWAuthor

Facebook: www.facebook.com/parker.williams.75641

Email: parker@parkerwilliamsauthor.com

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Is It Over Yet? by L.A. Witt: Blog Tour, Excerpt, Release Day Review * 2 and Giveaway

January 8, 2019 by Denise

Rhys Powell and Derek Scott are divorcing. Mistakes have been made, lines have been crossed, and there’s no going back. Both men are exhausted and ready to move on.

But their daughter is getting married soon. In the name of not putting a damper on her wedding, Derek and Rhys agree to keep the divorce on the down-low and show up as the happy couple everyone still believes they are.

And between a roller coaster of a road trip and the love and joy surrounding the wedding… Derek and Rhys just might remember why they fell for each other in the first place.

Are they only kidding themselves? Or can a rekindled spark really light the way to forgiveness?

Length: 60,000 words

Cover Design: Lori Witt

Amazon – Kindle Unlimited

Amazon UK

Exclusive to Amazon and Available to Borrow with Kindle Unlimited

Chapter 1

Rhys

The suburban Chicago house I’d lived in for the past six years came into view, and my stomach knotted tighter. It was the same feeling I’d had on my way to a job I’d hated a lifetime ago, when pulling up to the building made me groan out loud at the prospect of another shift in that godforsaken place. Didn’t seem right to feel that way coming home, but there it was, same as it had been for the past two months.

By the time I pulled into the garage beside the familiar red Corolla, my jaw ached from clenching my teeth. Probably because that’s what I’d been doing every night this week at the same time. Ugh. If I didn’t move out of this place soon, my dental bills were going to be astronomical. That was a good enough reason to step things up, wasn’t it? So I didn’t grind my teeth to dust?

As if I didn’t already have a laundry list of reasons why I needed to get out of here.

With an ache in my jaw and a sour feeling in my throat, I collected my coffee cup, lunch bag, and briefcase, and got out of the car. On the way inside, I couldn’t help limping a little, which added to my festering annoyance. It wasn’t unusual for my leg to be sore by the end of the day, especially after I’d been coaching basketball, but it wasn’t doing much for my shitty mood. I couldn’t think of much that would, though. Nothing short of substances that would get me fired. Or maybe finding a note on the counter that said I moved out. There wasn’t a plant on this earth that would get me higher than reading those three sweet little words.

But unless my soon-to-be ex-husband had won the lottery since this morning, he was just as stuck here as I was.

At the door, I paused for a deep breath to steel myself, then went inside. The kitchen and living room were empty. Derek’s car was here, so it was a safe bet he was home, but he was somewhere else in the house. Good enough for me. If I was lucky, he’d stay that way long enough for me to wind down.

I went through my usual motions—cleaning out my lunch bag, rinsing the Tupperware dishes, checking the cats’ food and water, perusing the mail. For years this routine had soothed me. Helped me shift from work to home so I could relax. Not so much these days.

Our long-haired calico, Lucy, hopped upon the counter and chirped at me, and I managed to crack a smile as I scratched her back the way she loved. She arched under my hand and purred. I chuckled, and I didn’t even mind that she was kicking the mail everywhere as she strutted back and forth on the counter.

“Hey, sweetheart. You miss me?”

More purring.

I kept scratching and petting her for a moment, trying not to think about the future. Or the fact that Derek and I still hadn’t come to a custody agreement about the cats. They were littermates, and though they could fight almost as loudly as we could, they were inseparable. There was no “you take Lucy and I’ll take Chico.” When this was all over and we finally went our separate ways, someone was taking both cats, and someone would be living without them.

I scooped Lucy into my arms, and I hugged her tight, which just made her purr louder and my conscience burn hotter. Guilt had been a constant friend for the past couple of months, and every time I thought about either losing my cats or taking them away from Derek, I wanted to cry. As if I hadn’t done enough of that recently.

I’m so sorry, guys. I buried my face in Lucy’s plush fur. I fucked everything up.

The click of a door at the opposite end of the house made my spine stiffen. Lucy tensed too. By the time Derek was halfway up the hall, she’d stopped purring. As he cleared the corner into the living room, she wriggled in my arms, and I sighed as I set her back down on the counter. She jumped to the floor and trotted out of the room, probably to the office where Chico was likely watching birds.

I watched her go, fresh guilt gnawing at me. Things had really gone to shit when even the cats didn’t want to be in the same room with the two of us.

Without the cat to hold my attention anymore, I turned to see where Derek was headed so I could make my own escape. I still needed to change clothes anyway, not to mention take off my prosthetic and sit for a while to give my joints a rest. If he was going to hang out in the living room, then I could go into my bedroom or join the cats in the office.

But Derek wasn’t heading into the living room. He was coming into the kitchen. And from the way his gaze was fixed on me, he wanted to talk about something.

I swallowed. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Do you have a few minutes?”

I struggled to hold his gaze. He didn’t seem like he was looking for a fight. There was some tension in his features, but it didn’t read as hostility or anger.

I shifted my weight, wincing at the vicious ache in my hip. “Yeah. Do you mind if we sit, though?”

“Sure. Yeah. Living room?”

“Okay.” I followed him out of the kitchen, and we sat on opposite ends of the sofa. As soon as I was seated, I leaned down, rolled up my pant leg, and disconnected my prosthetic. Derek didn’t speak while I removed it; for all our inability to coexist lately, he was still in the habit of giving me a minute to get situated, particularly when I needed to kick off the prosthetic after a long day on my feet.

I leaned the prosthetic against the end table and sat back, releasing a relieved sigh. Everything ached, especially my hips, knees, and right ankle, and taking some weight off them felt so good. I might’ve even relaxed if not for Derek waiting a cushion away to have a conversation. Ugh. God. What now?

Schooling my expression, I twisted toward him. I stole a second just to look at him. There would come a time in the very near future when all I had left of him was pictures, and even with the constant tension hanging between us, it hurt to imagine not seeing him anymore. Seeing him like this hurt too. The dark eyes that had tongue-tied me on day one were cold now. Beside his eyes and mouth were lines that deepened whenever he smiled or laughed, and they were barely visible now. The near-black hair I’d run my fingers through millions of times, the soft lips I’d tasted more times than I could count, that spot on his neck where a single kiss could make him shudder all over—it was all out of my reach now.

Maybe it was time to take my sister up on the offer to come stay with her. I wasn’t sure how much more of this I could handle.

Forcing back my emotions, I tried to sound casual. “All right. What’s up?”

He mirrored me, pulling his knee up onto the cushion and drumming his fingers on his inseam. “Um.” He stared down at his hand. “So, I talked to Vanessa this morning.”

My gut clenched. Instantly my mind was filled with a million worst case scenarios. I’d expected him to have something on his mind about us, not about our daughter, and panic shot through me. Had something happened? Was she hurt? Sick? “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Everything’s fine.” He made a calm down gesture. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Okay. Good.” I exhaled, my heartbeat coming back down. It wasn’t unusual for her to call him, but the whole “we need to talk” thing had me on edge. “So…” I raised my eyebrows. Oh God, had he told her? Did he finally tell her we were divorcing? He’d been dancing around that for two months.

Derek cleared his throat, and to my surprise, he smiled, though he still seemed guarded. “She’s, um… She’s getting married.”

I blinked. “She is?”

He nodded. “Corbin proposed last night.”

“Oh. Wow.” I actually laughed because I was so relieved that instead of something horrible, he was breaking the news that Vanessa was engaged. “That’s great!”

“Yeah. It is.” He met my gaze, but then he broke eye contact, and his smile faltered.

How could a conversation be this much of a roller coaster after thirty seconds? Oh, right, because it was us and we were a disaster. A disaster our daughter still didn’t know about.

Derek took a deep breath and sat up a little. “Here’s the thing—they want to get married sooner than later. Corbin is going to be transferring within the next year, and he’ll probably deploy at some point. So they want to get all their ducks in a row quickly.”

I nodded. “Makes sense. How soon is soon?”

“They’re thinking February.”

I whistled. “Really not letting the grass grow, are they?”

He laughed quietly. “No. But it’s still three months away. It isn’t like they’re eloping next week.”

“True.” And why was this line of conversation making me apprehensive? Like it was going somewhere I really didn’t want it to go? I was thrilled for our daughter and her husband-to-be, but something about this discussion with Derek…didn’t feel right. After nine years together, I knew him, I knew his tells, and I knew there was more to this than just telling me Vanessa was getting married.

Chewing his lip, Derek dropped his gaze and watched his fingers drumming on his knee again. There was definitely something on his mind. Something he needed to say, but either couldn’t figure out how to or couldn’t quite work up the nerve.

“Derek?” I nudged. “What am I missing here? You’re happy about this, right?”

“Yeah. Of course. I’m… There’s just…” He closed his eyes. Finally, he met mine again. “Vanessa still doesn’t know about, um, us.”

I winced. In the two months since we’d decided to split up, we’d debated more than once when and how we should tell her. The holidays were almost upon us, so that hadn’t seemed like the right time, and we’d agreed to keep a lid on it until after the New Year. She couldn’t make it out for Thanksgiving, and she was spending Christmas with her mom, so it wasn’t as if we’d have to play happy husbands right in front of her. Just keep up the illusion on social media and on the phone. Easy. Except for the part where it meant we’d had to keep it quiet from almost everyone else so no one accidentally let it slip on Facebook. And we were still stuck living together anyway because neither of us could afford to move out yet, so the whole fucking world thought everything was quiet on the home front. The closest we’d come to letting it slip was when a friend noticed our wedding portrait wasn’t on the mantle anymore. Derek had quickly said the frame had broken, and the subject had dropped. For now.

“Right,” I said. “So what does that have to do with her getting—” I tensed, then inclined my head. “Derek, please tell me you’re not going where I think you’re going.”

He looked at me plaintively. “It’s her wedding, Rhys. The next couple of months are going to be stressful as hell for her, and I’d rather all that stress be about planning her wedding. Not worrying about her dads splitting up.”

Closing my eyes, I pushed out a long breath through my nose. We’d been married for seven years, and even though our happier days seemed like a lifetime ago, I remembered the stressful months leading up to the wedding like it was yesterday. The thought of my parents dropping a bomb like that in the middle of all that chaos? Of trying to enjoy my damn wedding while I worried myself sick about making them be in the same room? Okay, yeah, I got what he was driving at. But…fuck.

Honestly… just punch me in the face, it’ll hurt less.

I love, love, love stories like this one, that are so real and honest and hard !! People mess up and make mistakes, who can’t relate to that?

So, we come in to this one, with an already established relationship, Rhys and
Derek are married and have been for near on a decade. But during a rough patch, after a few too many drinks, one of them ends up going home with another man. I know cheating stories are a deal breaker for some… and for someone like myself, who’s ex-husband cheated and got someone else pregnant… it hurt, reading about it. (Though, there is no on-page cheating)… The anger and bitterness that Derek felt… the need for revenge and just so much hurt….

And I loved seeing Rhys guilt and the ownership of the mistake. He never once tried to blame it on anything other than his mess up. He never tried to make excuses, he never tried to justify the mistake, because as much as it killed Derek, it was killing Rhys too.

So, planning to get divorced… they decide to wait until after their daughter’s wedding to drop the news, plus, anyone who’s been divorced, knows that it’s not just easy as 1, 2, 3. It takes planning and money and it completely flips your life upside down.

There’s one little snibbit that I loved so hard, when Derek says, “Who knew this would be the hardest part about breaking up? Not just the hurt and betrayal, not just the upheaval of our peaceful life, but realizing that small things were gone.”
And it’s true… little things that you maybe took for granted while you were busy living life. Like watching tv together, or a book series you both loved and hadn’t finished. You have to mourn those things, losing them… it’s hard… and it was so perfectly written in this.

So, okay….enough of my psychoanalyzing…back to the story…. The guys had planned to wait to tell their daughter about their separation until after her wedding, but until then, and during the wedding, they wanted to put on the front that they were still together and happy. Not ideal, but I got it.

Over a 4 day long road trip and remembering all the reasons they loved each other in the first place, maybe the anger and hurt and resentment could be worked through. At times it feels like it can’t, and we go back and forth with Derek and how he feels, and then Rhys, I just wanted to hug him through the whole thing, but I loved how it ended. LOVED IT!! Could ya tell?

I could go on and on about this for days, I feel like… but I’ll spare you so you can actually read the story yourself… But, if you love second chance romances with real life hardships and mistakes.. you’ll love this one. You’ll cry over the love, the hurt, the anger, the guilt, and then the forgiveness, the relief and then the love again. I loved this book, SO MUCH! I absolutely recommend it.

5 well deserved pieces of eye candy from me!

FAVORITE LINE: “Who knew this would be the hardest part about breaking up? Not just the hurt and betrayal, not just the upheaval of our peaceful life, but realizing that small things were gone.”

I’ll read almost anything by LA Witt, so I was excited to see this new release as it was something different. A married couple on their way to divorce, but faking it for the sake of their daughter’s wedding. And I enjoyed it mostly. It certainly wasn’t amazing, but entirely readable with a decent story.

Derek and Rhys are broken up but still living together. Mostly for financial reasons but also because it never seems to be the right time to tell their daughter. So when she announces that she is getting married, they figure they should wait until after the wedding. But first they have to get through the wedding.

The tension between the two was very real. It didn’t come out right away why they were splitting up, but suffice it to say that one man was incredibly mad and the other was incredibly broken. But they have a 4 day each way road trip and a wedding to get through. They mutually agree to leave their problems behind for the trip and try to not only not kill each other, but maybe enjoy themselves.

Being that I live in a sort of similar situation in real life, I am going to tell you that a lot of what was going on with them was spot on. If you’re just basically nice to the other person will they assume that means you are wanting to get back together? Are they reading more into it? How can you be nice when you are so mad? But how can you ignore your past which was mostly happy?

So ya, spot on.

A lot of the back story was slow to come by and lacked a bit of punch for me. When and how they met, their daughter, their daughter’s mother, even the fact that Rhys wore a prosthetic leg and the story behind it felt like it was added to the story because it should be in there. But it also didn’t add anything to the story.

There was a bit of repetition with their daughter that got old and it wrapped up a bit too quickly and neatly for me. I appreciated the epilogue, but again, it felt a bit like they were saying the same things over and over again.

Not her best, but worth the read for the feelings portrayed and the different story line.

3.5 pieces of eye candy

L.A. Witt is an abnormal M/M romance writer who has finally been released from the purgatorial corn maze of Omaha, Nebraska, and now spends her time on the southwestern coast of Spain. In between wondering how she didn’t lose her mind in Omaha, she explores the country with her husband, several clairvoyant hamsters, and an ever-growing herd of rabid plot bunnies. She also has substantially more time on her hands these days, as she has recruited a small army of mercenaries to search South America for her nemesis, romance author Lauren Gallagher, but don’t tell Lauren. And definitely don’t tell Lori A. Witt or Ann Gallagher. Neither of those twits can keep their mouths shut…

Website: http://www.gallagherwitt.com

E-mail: gallagherwitt@gmail.com

Twitter: @GallagherWitt

Blog: http://gallagherwitt.blogspot.com

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Jan 8 – Sexy Erotic Xciting, OMG Reads, Engaging Secrets, Two Chicks Obsessed, Jan 10 – Mainely Stories, Cupcakes & Bookshelves, Diverse Reader, Gay Media Reviews, Jan 12 – Love Unchained Book Reviews, Books, Tattoos & Tea, Jan 14 – The Geekery Book Review, We Three Queens BB, Making It Happen, Jan 16 – Amy’s MM Romance Reviews, Jan 18 – Kimmers’ Erotic Book Banter, Southern Babes Book Blog, Lillian Francis, Book Corner Reviews, Mirrigold, Dog-Eared Daydreams, Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words, Bayou Book Junkie, Xtreme Delusions, Wicked Reads

A Whole Latte Sass by Marguerite Labbe: Exclusive Guest Post and Excerpt, Release Day Review

January 1, 2019 by Denise

It’s no secret cosplayer Felipe Suero is looking for his happily ever after—in his love life as well as his career. He’s getting his degree so he can quit his miserable job and start his own costume business. Now he just needs to land the sexiest silver fox to ever attend a con.

Trask Briscoe’s life revolves around staying clean and sober, running the Magick Den, and attending local cons. His rules haven’t left much room for romance. But he can’t deny Felipe has caught his complete attention. He’s just not sure what he can offer a man so full of joy and sass.

When Trask finally accepts Felipe’s offer for a cup of coffee, he soon finds himself on a second date and a third. Between cosplay projects and roleplaying games, they discover a deeper connection than either of them expected. And Trask realizes that sometimes rules are made to be broken.

Now Felipe just has to convince his family—and Trask—that Trask has more love to offer than he ever dreamed.

Title: A Whole Latte Sass
Series: Geek Life: Book 2
Author: Marguerite Labbe
Release Date: January 1, 2019
Category: Contemporary
Pages: 284

Amazon

Dreamspinner Press

A Whole Latte Sass and Holiday Traditions

Happy New Year’s everyone. Thank you for coming out to check on my release for A Whole Latte Sass. I love this time of year. As Felipe says it’s a non-stop party from Halloween to New Year’s Day. When I was younger, I thought of New Year’s Day as that sleepy holiday where nothing happened when you recovered from being up too late the night before. You couldn’t go anywhere because everything was closed. Little did I know that New Year’s Day would change my life. Sixteen years ago today, my son was born. So now we have a whole new set of traditions that mostly revolve around him and I can say it’s never boring.

A Whole Latte Sass takes us through the holidays. Felipe’s family is like mine. It’s a sprawling, noisy, multigenerational affair. Every day after Christmas we drive down to Charleston and stay until after Christian’s birthday. The whole family is there. For Felipe, his home is the gathering place, all of the aunts, uncles, and cousins come and join him and his immediate family including his grandparents. For Thanksgiving they start with the Macy’s Day Parade and ends with some kind of family board game. Trask’s holidays are more low-key. Growing up he didn’t have a happy home life and all of his good memories come from his grandmother. Once he got clean, he often spends his holidays with a friend from Narcotics Anonymous.

When families merge you have the opportunity to mingle traditions and create your own. One tradition my husband picked up from my family is the la benediction paternelle, where the head of the household blesses each member individually on New Year’s Day. One tradition we picked up from him was setting out a couple presents from Santa unwrapped under the tree after midnight. That was a whole lot of fun when our son was little.

Trask is a vegetarian and a bachelor loner, so for the holidays he orders the special from Marie’s Diner down the street, but with extra mac-n-cheese and apple pie instead of turkey. He’s a man who shows his caring through deeds instead of words. He takes his holiday time and uses it to make things for others whether it’s helping to winterize Old Joe’s home or rehabbing a crafting table for Felipe. For him that’s a celebration and he doesn’t feel like he’s missing out. He’s more worried about feeling like he’s intruding on other families.

For Felipe family is everything, even when they piss him off he’s home for holidays and he can’t let anger linger through that time even if that anger is sometimes justified. And he’s determined to show Trask that having a family doesn’t mean it has to be dysfunctional, even when you’re not getting along. On Christmas Eve, he returns home to surprise his family by lighting up the tree and setting out the post-Mass snacks and finds his grandfather thinking along the same lines and they have a long overdue heart-to-heart. Sometimes the person you butt heads with the most is the one you’re most like.

I’d like to share a little holiday excerpt and then please, drop me a note and tell me about some of your holiday traditions.

“Oh yes, Abby. The girl who stole your crayon.” Lola’s husky voice enveloped Felipe in a thousand comforting memories.

Felipe cracked a smile at her oh-so-serious tone that meant she was gently teasing him. All around them their family buzzed, talking over each other in cheerful chaos, the way they did at every family holiday. The little ones ran all over the living room, tumbling over each other and squabbling. The teenagers sat in their little spheres of isolation, their faces over their phones, except Mariana, who flitted from one group to another, like she hadn’t seen anyone in decades when they’d all gotten together just on Labor Day and they’d see each other again at Christmas and New Year’s. Felipe’s family was never far away.

“That would be the one,” Felipe admitted.

“The same Abby who dated the gentleman you were pining for in tenth grade.” Lola’s memory was as sharp as ever.

He wished Trask had come. Mariana had asked about Trask’s whereabouts more than once, much to his parents’ discomfort. Felipe pulled out his phone and curled in closer to his grandmother. “Smile, Lola. I need to send a picture to a friend of mine.” He snapped a photo and admired the image before sending it to Trask. Thinking of you. Happy Thanksgiving.

“The young man you were telling me about?”

“He’s not that young, Lola.” Felipe felt that he had to point that out. Not that Trask was as ancient as everyone else complained about either.

She laughed her warm, rich laugh. “At my age everyone is young.”

His phone dinged, and Felipe pulled up the picture of Trask with Sophie, curled up on the floor of his apartment. Miss you too, imp. Felipe’s heart panged. He really wished he was with the aloof twerp. He had so many emotions where Trask was concerned, deep emotions that he’d once longed for but now wasn’t sure what do with. He wanted to talk about it with his grandmother, but he couldn’t with the bedlam surrounding them.

Lola took the phone from Felipe and examined Trask’s picture through her bifocals. “He considers you an imp?” She gave Felipe a fond glance. “I think that name just might serve.”

Felipe loved the way Trask said imp. There was a warmth and affection in his tone when he did, as if he didn’t wish Felipe to be any other way. “Yeah, I’m his imp, and he’s my Tin Man.”

“He has kind eyes.” She handed the phone back to Felipe. “The eyes don’t lie, Felipe.”

The title of this book, A Whole Latte Sass, could not be more perfect for the main character, Felipe. That man has sass going on! And the calming influence of Trask was the perfect foil for Felipe’s high energy personality.

This was a May December romance, which highlighted their differences very well. I really loved their very distinct personalities. Felipe was a confident young man who knew what he wanted, and worked to get it, no matter what it was he wanted.

Trask meanwhile was a bit set in his ways. Running his business, not allowing anyone new in his life, whether canine or human. Then Felipe comes into his life, and turns his life on end, simply by making sure Trask knew he was wanted, and encouraging him to give him a chance.

I thought the book was a bit longer than it needed to be, incorporating things that maybe could have been cut, or used as additional scenes. Overall though, an enjoyable read!

3.5 pieces of eye candy

His Cursed Prince by Ryan Loveless: Exclusive Guest Post, Excerpt and Release Day Review

December 28, 2018 by Denise

TCO is mad excited to have Ryan Loveless here discussing His Cursed Prince, her latest novella. From the synopsis on, you know you are in for a wild ride with this one, and I just love that Ryan gives us a little touch of what happened the day before these two connect. I hope you guys enjoy this!

Three facts about Tuckington Belle:

1. Given the choice between illegally scaling the royal castle’s walls to steal flowers for a client at his family’s dress shop or going on a date with a girl his brother set him up with (“He’s fertile, and he can sew!”), Tuck will scale the wall like a spider after a fly.

2. If, upon knocking himself unconscious when he falls off the wall, Tuck wakes up bruised, blindfolded, and inside the castle, where—based on the unearthly wails heard nightly—the prince no one has seen in ten years is probably a ghost, Tuck would still choose this over a date with a girl.

3. Tuck thinks it’s time to admit he’s gay.

Three facts about Prince Frederick George Deor (Read and approved with great reluctance by Lord “Protocol is Protocol. Stop Being a Pain About It” Todd):

1. He brought a curse upon himself and now bears the skin of a snake.

2. He can’t take his eyes off the injured thief recovering in the castle.

3. Friendships born from lying and insisting the other person wears a blindfold can blossom into true love—which he needs to break the curse.

Title: His Cursed Prince
Author: Ryan Loveless
Release Date: December 28, 2018
Category: Fantasy
Pages: 98

Amazon

Dreamspinner Press

I love plotting and writing exercises. Before I start a story, I spend weeks or more filling out worksheets on various and sundry. I even made a special Scrivener file for it that incorporates worksheets from different writing books that I’ve read. (That’s another thing, I love books on writing.) A favorite writing exercise of mine is to write out what each of the characters was doing the day before the story begins. It helps me find a jumping off point for where my story should start. Let me share with you now what Tuck and Frederick did on The Day Before.

Tuckington: Tuck stared dejectedly at the empty till. “This won’t keep the shop open past the holidays.”

“The money’s in your hand, doofus,” his brother said.

“Including that. We have to do something special to get the customers in. A gala or a ball–”

“Or a royal wedding. If Prince Jasper were engaged–,” their mother interjected.

“If he were, he wouldn’t get married in the castle here, not with all the banshee-wailing that goes on. People who live near say it keeps them awake all night.” Daniel eyed Tuck. “No, we need a wedding closer to home. A fine young lady of the town matched with an enterprising young lad. A shop owner. She’ll want all the finery for herself and her maids of honor, which we will provide at a reasonable, but profitable, rate.”

Tuck put the money into a bank envelope and closed the till. He avoided looking at Daniel.

Daniel settled his hand on Tuck’s shoulder and squeezed. “And I’ve got just the lad. What do you say, Tuck?”

Frederick: Frederick lay in the center of his bed. Although it was large enough for six of him, he curled tight, trying to be as small as possible. It shouldn’t matter. It’s just an animal. Like me. He clutched his dark cloak, pulling it tighter. The hood covered his face.

“Your Highness? KitKat is sorry. You just surprised him is all.” Gracie sounded plaintive on the other side of the door. “Can we come in?”

She was probably holding the cat. It had been sitting pleasantly in Gracie’s lap, but when Frederick approached to pet it, the thing hissed and reared up. Frederick had taken off in one direction, the cat in another.

“I wish to be alone,” he shouted.

“But–”

“Leave me!” He rose up to roar, then collapsed back down, intending to stay there until he died.

“I’ll leave your dinner out here,” Gracie said after a moment. Frederick laid still, sulking, until the door opened, this time without a knock. Lord Todd entered and moved around the room, doing whatever he did while Frederick ignored him. Frederick hid beneath his hood and wished himself away.

“George has invited me back this evening,” Tuck said after working up the courage. (Sir Michael did not invite comfortable chatter, and they were nearly stopped before Tuck found his nerve.)

“Did he, now?” Sir Michael said. Tuck couldn’t tell if he was disinterested or annoyed. “Going on inviting thieves back, is he? Not giving us a chance to screen them and all, is he?”

Tuck judged that this addendum was not meant for his ears and remained quiet. He did need to clear up one thing, though. “Is he a servant or…. I don’t wish to get him into trouble. If I’m not to return, please tell me.”

When Sir Michael turned in his saddle to look at him, his face was such a mask of power that Tuck gripped his saddle horn a little tighter to distract himself from the need to cower. “George is no servant,” Sir Michael said. “He is held in especial affection by His Royal Highness Prince Frederick. You will consider a request from George as an order from your prince. What time did he request you this evening?”

The information Sir Michael poured on him was enough to make Tuck overlook the concluding question. “Prince Frederick is alive?” He was certain his eyes were bugging out, but there was nothing to be done about it.

“He is.” Sir Michael said nothing more. Tuck had it on the tip of his tongue to tell him about the rumors, what people said outside the castle grounds, but one look at the tightness around Sir Michael’s eyes quelled him into silence. Almost before he knew it, they arrived at the wall and the door that Prince Frederick had once closed on him. Then Tuck was on the cobblestone walkway outside the grounds, flowers in hand, with directions to return to the same door exactly two hours after sunset. The heavy latch had closed before Tuck realized he wanted to ask where the prince was, even though he was certain Sir Michael would not answer.

Tuck turned away and hurried down the hill. Prince Frederick was alive. He swallowed this truth down and hid it away in a place safe in his belly. Sir Michael hadn’t forbidden him from telling it, but something told Tuck that he should keep it to himself and never even hint at this knowledge.

Thank you all for reading. I hope you will buy His Cursed Prince and if you do, let me know what you think!

I’m going to keep this short and sweet. Grab this! Even if you aren’t into fantasy (I’m normally not!), even if you don’t like historical (which this has pieces of, but there’s still things like cell phones, so go figure), and even if the idea of a crying prince makes you want to cry yourself, grab this!

I completely enjoyed this. It was sweet, with some genuinely funny parts. And I loved that Tuck really just didn’t care, even knowing what he knew when his blindfold came off, he still only cared about the prince. Meanwhile, the prince needed to learn to care about himself.

On top of it, there is a twist on the curse, that I didn’t see coming, that I absolutely loved even more! So, once again, I will say…GRAB THIS! 🙂

4.5 pieces of eye candy

Ryan Loveless is the author of numerous M/M romance novels and short stories. She is honored to be recognized as a Rainbow Book Award winner (several titles), Epic eBook Award finalist (In Me an Invincible Summer), and a Florida Author and Publisher Association Awards bronze medalist (Ethan). She lives in New York with her family, a sentence that brings her great joy to write.

Twitter: @ryanloveless

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