Cover Reveals

Buyout: A Love Story by Dev Bentham: Cover Reveal, Excerpt and Giveaway

January 11, 2017 by Denise

TCO is excited to bring you the cover reveal of Buyout: A Love Story by Dev Bentham. Check out the synopsis, a short excerpt and then the lovely cover done by Catt Ford, @catt_ford.

Thanks so much for having me here to show off Buyout – A Love Story’s gorgeous cover. Not only is it beautiful, but Catt did a great job of capturing the personalities of Sean and Martim. And I love her use of a nighttime shot of the facade of the The Praça do Comércio in the cover. The setting – Lisbon – is one of the things I loved best about writing this story.

I’m very excited that this novella will be coming out right before Valentine’s Day (it releases from Dreamspinner Press on Feb. 9th). What could be more romantic than second chances, love and Lisbon in the Spring?

Everyone deserves a second chance. Or do they? Sean and Martim fell in love at Harvard. Things broke apart when Martim fell into a downward spiral of addiction after his father died. Sean kicked him out but has regretted it ever since. He’s never gotten over losing Martim. But then, not many aspects of his life have lived up to his collegiate dreams.

Now Sean is in a position to once again put Martim out on the street when he’s sent by his boss to evaluate Martim’s family hotel for foreclosure. In the time since they parted, Martim has pulled himself together, although both health and financial problems linger as a result of his years as an addict. Can the two men bridge the gap of distance and time to rekindle their relationship, or will they fall apart again under the burdens of guilt and disease?

Set in Lisbon, Portugal, this is the story of lovers reunited after more than a decade apart and their second chance at romance.

Martim slid into the seat across from me. I smelled his shampoo and imagined that I could detect the fresh soapy scent of his skin. I had to quit thinking like this. I tried to picture him as I’d last seen him, strung out and naked with another man, but the emotional energy of that betrayal was gone. All I remembered was want.

Dreamspinner Press

Dev Bentham has lived in way too many places and had far too many jobs. She’s finally settled in frozen northern Wisconsin where she teaches online and draws on her former lives to write love stories about mature men searching for true love. Her restless feet take her globetrotting whenever she gets the chance, but most of the time she’s tucked up in her office in the woods dreaming about romance and adventure.
She’s the author of many gay romances, including a DABWAHA finalist, a Rainbow Award Honorable Mention and a Rainbow Awards Finalist.

Website: DevBentham.com
Email: DevBentham@yahoo.com
Twitter: @DevBentham
FB: https://www.facebook.com/dev.bentham

Dev’s Monthly News Flash, a little news plus a bit of original fiction – sign up at: http://eepurl.com/bNFX5f

Leave a comment for Dev regarding the cover, synopsis or excerpt, and let her know what you think, for a chance to win an ebook from Dev.

By the Numbers by Chris Owen and Tory Temple: Cover Reveal and Excerpt

December 20, 2016 by Denise

Chris Owen and Tory Temple are delighted to reveal the cover for By the Numbers. This story is a fun romp full of the kind of mayhem that only dogs, puppies, and the occasional seven year old can create. The two men at the heart of it are dear to the authors, and we’re so pleased to share the book with you all, and especially its amazing cover.

A fireman and a dog. What more could a person want?

Big thanks to Dreamspinner, Janetm who designed the cover, and of course the wonderful Denise here at Two Chicks Obsessed (TCO note: awwww thanks 🙂 ) for helping us share today with you! We hope you love it as much as we do.

Chris and Tory xo

The last thing Nathaniel, aka Deuce, expects to see when he gets home from work is his street jammed with fire engines and police cars. When he realizes that it’s his apartment building that’s on fire, Nathaniel can only think of one thing: his pregnant dog, trapped inside. When firefighter Trey Donovan delivers Nathaniel’s unharmed dog to him, Nathaniel is exceedingly grateful. After all, it isn’t every day that he meets muscular, attractive rescue workers. Nathaniel manages to find out where Trey’s station is with the idea of saying thank you and offering him a puppy, but discovers that he and Trey have something else between them that needs exploring. Trey, however, has responsibilities that could prove to make that exploration difficult. He has shift work to contend with. His seven year old daughter is a priority, plus he shares custody with his less than friendly ex-wife. Since Nathaniel is the new owner of one dog and six puppies, and doesn’t even have a place to live, he isn’t exactly in an ideal situation to explore a new relationship. Even if it is with a hot, handsome fireman. Can Trey and Nathaniel find some common ground amid the yapping of puppies and Trey’s complicated family life?

Dreamspinner Press

Smoke was pouring out of windows, through doors, and Deuce’s vision narrowed until all he could see was his apartment. “Let me go!”

The cop was yelling at him, and then there were two holding onto him, demanding to know who was inside, what apartment. They wouldn’t let him go, and Deuce couldn’t make the words come out. He swore he could hear her barking. “Q! My dog. She’s locked in the bedroom. She’s pregnant!”

“What number?” He didn’t know who asked, didn’t care.

“Six. Second floor, on the right.” He made himself stop pulling at the cops, mostly because someone was going toward the building, someone in fire gear who could actually help, but also because the police weren’t going to be patient with him for very long.

“Stay here,” one of the cops, the second one, ordered. “You don’t move, understood? If you head to that building I’ll put you in cuffs and throw you in a patrol car.”

Deuce nodded, not even looking at him. He was pretty sure the cop couldn’t do that, but he wasn’t about to find out. He just watched the apartment, his big front window that looked like it had maybe blown out or been smashed in. “Q,” he whispered. Then he made himself shut up and wait.

…and wait, and wait. It felt like a year had passed before he finally saw the firefighter emerge again, and by that time the building had become almost totally obscured by the thick, dirty smoke. Too many people were still in his way and he couldn’t tell if the fireman had found his poor Q, her belly swollen with pups.

He craned his neck and stood on tiptoe, trying to peer past the police officer that was keeping him from dashing to his building. Had the firefighter gotten to her? And had it been in time? Deuce was just on the verge of saying fuck it and risking arrest, but suddenly the flock of people in front of him melted away and he was face to face with a pair of strong arms that cradled his pregnant dog.

“Q!” He reached out his arms to take the squirming, panting mutt. “Is she okay? Are you?”

Q’s tongue lolled and she whined and wiggled until he put her down. Holding onto her collar, Deuce crouched down next to her and looked up at the firefighter. “Thank you. God, I can’t even tell you.” He pet Q with one hand, made her sit and held on tight. “Thank you,” he repeated.

The firefighter had already taken off his mask, and now he did the same to his helmet and wiped at his forehead. He nodded at Deuce and leaned down to give her a pat. “She’s a nice girl. Came right to me and let me pick her up.”

“She wasn’t real scared?” Deuce noticed his own hand was shaking and he reached up to push it through his hair to make it stop. His knuckles hit his bike helmet though, and he let out a shaky breath before undoing the snap and taking the helmet off. “I’m a mess. Thank you so much, again.”

“She was a little scared.” The man shrugged and pet Q’s head again, his gloves still on. “But not like some pets I’ve tried to grab. Got bit right through my turnouts once by some little yappy dog.”

“What’s your name?”

“Trey Donovan. And she is…?”

“Q. Well, her vet papers still say Cutie, but that’s a stupid name. I got her about two years ago after a break up and took the liberty of cooling her up.” Deuce gently stroked her belly. “She got loose on me, though.”

The corner of Trey’s mouth lifted as he gazed at the dog’s stomach. “She wasn’t spayed, obviously. Don’t you listen to what Bob Barker tells you?”

Deuce didn’t blush, but he did nod contritely. “Lesson learned, for sure. It’ll be taken care of as soon as she’s ready. I’m not sure how long we have to wait after the puppies come, but the vet will tell me. I hope they’re okay.”

Q whined again and looked at them both, her tail thumping on the ground. She was still panting, and Deuce decided he’d have to find some water for her really soon.

Someone was yelling for Trey, who glanced over his shoulder and nodded. He gave one last pat to Q and shifted his helmet to under his other arm. “Good luck getting rid of the puppies,” he laughed. “My kid would love one.” Then he turned and headed back in the direction from which he’d come, presumably to do something else heroic.

Chris Owen lives and writes in eastern Canada. She went to a bunch of schools, learned a lot of things, and now makes stuff up because not to do so is unthinkable. She’s fond of fountain pens, notebooks and day planners, and Steampunk fashions. Lately she’s been watching a lot of documentaries. Chris has a fondness for wool, and for summer ales. The two work well together.

Chris is inspired by the day to day minutia of life, and finds beauty in the way words go together. She likes texture and richness of experience. She is not shy. Her favourite vegetable is cauliflower. You can reach her at www.chrisowen.net and on Twitter at https://twitter.com/chris_owen

Tory Temple lives and works in southern California where she happens to spend a lot of time around firefighters. It makes for excellent storytelling, so Tory definitely uses that to her advantage! She is guardian to three pit bulls who only attack with kisses, one snobby cat, as well as other assorted friends from the animal kingdom. (Husband included.) Her fondest wish is to be a stay-at-home dog mom. You can tempt her with promises of cheese and/or Mexican food. On Saturday nights, she is usually watching Netflix and thinking about how to get the newest firemen in her head to hook up. Tory loves reader e-mails and looks forward to hearing from anyone who wants to drop her a line.

Love Is Heartless by Kim Fielding: Cover Reveal, Excerpt and Giveaway

December 14, 2016 by Denise

Hi! I’m Kim Fielding, and I’m so excited to be here today to reveal the cover of my new book, Love Is Heartless!

The cover is by the very talented Brooke Albrecht (http://brookealbrechtstudio.com/), who did a great job capturing the mood. The cover gives a nice sense of the setting—Portland, Oregon. And if you look closely at the wall, you’ll see some relevant graffiti.

This is the second book in the Love Can’t series. If you missed Love Can’t Conquer, the first book, you can easily read this one as a standalone. But if you’re familiar with the first book, I think you’ll be happy to learn that this one stars Nevin Ng, the sharp-dressing, foul-mouthed detective who’s friends with Jeremy Cox. Nevin is generally a confident guy, but some chance encounters with a bow-tied property developer are about to throw Nevin for a loop. Expect a lot of swearing, some mysterious murders, and some surprisingly sweet romance.

Intrigued by that cover? Story sounds like your cup of tea? You can preorder Love Is Heartless now. And you can enter to win an e-copy of Love Can’t Conquer, along with a $10 Dreamspinner gift certificate.

Small but mighty—that could be Detective Nevin Ng’s motto. Now a dedicated member of the Portland Police Bureau, he didn’t let a tough start in life stop him from protecting those in need. He doesn’t take crap from anyone, and he doesn’t do relationships. Until he responds to the severe beating of a senior citizen and meets the victim’s bow-tied, wealthy landlord.

Property manager and developer Colin Westwood grew up with all the things Nevin never had, like plenty of money and a supportive, loving family. Too supportive, perhaps, since his childhood illness has left his parents unwilling to admit he’s a strong, grown man. Colin does do relationships, but they never work out. Now he’s thinking maybe he won’t just go with the flow. Maybe it’s time to try something more exciting. But being a witness to a terrible crime—or two—was more than he bargained for.

Despite their differences, Colin and Nevin discover that sparks fly when they’re together. But sparks are short-lived, dampened by the advent of brutal crimes, and Colin and Nevin have seemingly little in common. The question is whether they have the heart to build something lasting.

Even though Colin had a head start, when he arrived at his building, the purple GTO was already there. In the fire lane. Colin generally stuck pretty close to the speed limit; Nevin, he suspected, did not. Colin pulled alongside Nevin’s car and lowered the passenger window. “You can’t park there,” he said loudly.
Nevin sat behind the wheel, tapping his fingers impatiently. “Nowhere else to park in your fucking neighborhood, is there? Not for the rabble, anyway.” He nodded toward the gated entrance to Colin’s lot.
“But it’s a red zone.”
“And every goddamn meter maid and gorilla in blue knows Julie. I’m not getting ticketed.”
Okay, so being a cop brought privileges. “What if there’s a fire?”
“Then your building goes up in flames, hundreds die, and you get to blame me. Satisfied?”
Colin had never been so tempted to wrap his hands around another person’s neck. It was lucky he couldn’t reach Nevin at the moment. “Fine. Meet me at my car.” He pulled away and into the lot.
Without exchanging more than a few grunts, they wrestled the heavy box across the street and up to Colin’s apartment. They had to put it down while Colin got out his keys and unlocked the door. “Don’t let Legolas out,” he warned as he turned the knob.
“Who?”
“My cat.”
They got the box inside, and Nevin kicked the door closed. “What kind of name is Legolas?”
“You know, the elf.” They set the AC down. “From Tolkien. Orlando Bloom was one of my first crushes.”
Nevin clearly had no idea what he was talking about.
“Lord of the Rings,” Colin explained.
“Never seen it.”
“You should. It wouldn’t wound your masculinity. It’s not Disney, there’s no singing, and no princesses.” He paused and thought for a moment. “Okay, there sort of is one. She’s an elf too. But mostly there’s a lot of fighting. Manly fighting.” He decided to omit the homoerotic undertones of Frodo and Sam’s relationship.
“I don’t watch that shit.”
“What do you watch? Car chases and explosions?”
Nevin shrugged. Then, instead of leaving, he ripped the flaps of the box open. “Gimme a hand.”

Dreamspinner Press eBook
Dreamspinner Press Paperback

Kim Fielding is the bestselling author of numerous m/m romance novels, novellas, and short stories. Like Kim herself, her work is eclectic, spanning genres such as contemporary, fantasy, paranormal, and historical. Her stories are set in alternate worlds, in 15th century Bosnia, in modern-day Oregon. Her heroes are hipster architect werewolves, housekeepers, maimed giants, and conflicted graduate students. They’re usually flawed, they often encounter terrible obstacles, but they always find love.

After having migrated back and forth across the western two-thirds of the United States, Kim calls the boring part of California home. She lives there with her husband, her two daughters, and her day job as a university professor, but escapes as often as possible via car, train, plane, or boat. This may explain why her characters often seem to be in transit as well. She dreams of traveling and writing full-time.

Website: http://kfieldingwrites.com
Facebook: http://facebook.com/KFieldingWrites
Twitter: @KFieldingWrites

Rafflecopter giveaway! Enter to win an e-book of Love Can’t Conquer plus a $10 Dreamspinner gift certificate.

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Painted on my Heart by Kindle Alexander: Cover Reveal, Excerpt and Giveaway

December 7, 2016 by Denise

Title: Painted On My Heart

Author: Kindle Alexander

Genre: M/M Romance

Release Date: Coming Soon

Artist Kellus Hardin let love and loyalty cloud his past decisions, a mistake he definitely won’t make again. Now, lost and alone, he’s left to pick up the shattered pieces of his broken heart while facing the truth of his reality.

Arik Layne exudes power, confidence, and determination. But when an encounter with the guarded artist shakes him to the core and alters all his future goals, he finds more than just his heart on the line.

For Kellus, opening himself to love isn’t an option.

All Arik wants is to make the artist his.

Can love create a masterpiece when it’s painted on your heart?

Chapter 1

The shrill ring of his phone should have startled him awake, but Kellus Hardin was just too damn tired to do much more than roll in the direction of the irritating sound and throw a hand out to half-ass search around his mattress for the device. When he came up empty handed, he managed to turn the other way and do the same. By the time his exhausted sleep-hazed brain identified the phone wasn’t anywhere around him, he heard the chirp indicating a voice mail. He cracked an eyelid and lifted his head enough to look over at the alarm clock. Four thirty in the morning. Seriously? Nothing good could come from a call that time of night. He collapsed back to the bed with an annoyed groan. He’d been asleep less than an hour after working the fifteen before on the pieces he had due for the art gallery opening.

“Fuck,” he growled out, turning over again. He tucked a soft pillow into his side and decided he’d deal with that call in the morning. His exhausted state gave a solid thumbs-up on the plan, and he easily drifted back to sleep. What had to be a mere second later, the ringing started again. Stupid cell phone.

Kellus threw the covers away from his body and darted off the bed, angrier than he’d been in a very long time. He was fucking tired—tired of his fucked-up life and tired of this motherfucker who wouldn’t leave him the fuck alone.

Fuck!

With a vengeance, he zeroed in on the location of the noise. He marched to his laundry basket by the bedroom door and began tearing through the clothes to find the stupid phone, no doubt still inside his paint-spattered coveralls where he’d dropped it not fifty-three minutes ago before he’d finally managed to crawl into bed.

Palming the device, he glared at the caller ID. John. Of course. Who else would call in the middle of the fucking night?

“What?” he shouted as he connected the call.

“Come get him.” A deep masculine voice with a Spanish accent had him pulling the phone from his ear to look down at the screen in confusion.

Wait. Great. Even fucking better—John’s dealer.

“No,” he said firmly as he stood tall and fisted his free hand at his side. His chest bowed in defiance as if the guy on the other end of the phone were right there in his darkened bedroom. “You give him that shit, you deal with him.”

The harsh laugh on the other end of the line held what might have been genuine amusement. “I deal with him and it won’t end well.” The line went dead. Kellus shoved his fingers through his hair to help push the long strands out of his eyes.

“Fuck!” he bellowed to the empty room, spinning in a complete circle, gripping his phone in his hand and punching his fist through the air. Thank God he was alone, because if anybody had witnessed that little outburst he’d have been carted off to the nearest mental facility. He was just so fucking sick and tired of being sick and tired.

Breath heaving as anger and dread coursed through his veins, Kellus stood there, staring absently at his bed. The fatigue of the day settled heavy on his shoulders. He had responsibilities. He couldn’t take on more of John’s bullshit. He jammed the heels of his palms against his tired eyes and released an exhausted sigh. After so many hours holding a brush for the fine details of his painting, his hands cramped with the movement, and the muscles in his neck and back protested the long hours he’d put in today. He needed sleep. More than the fifty-three minutes he’d gotten.

“I’m not fucking doing this again. I warned him the last time. I made it clear. No more!” Kellus sliced the hand still holding his cell through the air with finality. With that decision made, he stalked across the room and tossed his phone on the nightstand. He climbed back in his bed, whipping the covers over his exhausted body.

He hadn’t heard from John in six days.

Six glorious, productive, happy days.

Staring up at the ceiling, unable to get his mind to shut off, he told himself he’d made the right decision. John needed to stay away. Kellus forced his eyelids closed. At this point, he’d still get a few good hours sleep before he had to start his day. The longer he lay there, the more guilt crept in.

It always did.

Images of his best friend came to mind. Happier times. Memories of his and John’s younger days and all the trouble they’d managed to get into. Those thoughts actually calmed his breathing. His mind drifted to the summer of their senior year. He hadn’t thought about that time in so long. He and John had gone to the lake with some friends. A healthy, glowing, handsome John had teased him unmercifully until he had finally agreed to skinny dip…

“Fuck!” Kellus whipped off the covers and rose, angry and worried.

He couldn’t leave John in that place.

Kellus stopped dead center in his bedroom, fuming; he was so pissed at himself, at his own indecision, at John. What the fuck was wrong with him? John had destroyed both their lives, shit on him over and over with absolutely no regard for his feelings whatsoever. He’d lost everything because of John. He swore he’d never do this again.

But he couldn’t leave John there.

Not there.

Dejected, Kellus ran a frustrated hand over his face, sighed, then went for his closet to dress.

~~~

Topping out at max speed, Arik Layne flew down the Dallas North Tollway. Being the only one on the highway might have been the only benefit of flying home in the middle of the night from his Escape Del Mar property.

God, he was past exhausted.

Less than five minutes later, Arik parked and wearily made his way through the private entrance of his downtown Dallas high-rise, shrugging out of his hand-tailored suit jacket before he reached the elevator. At the elevator, he tossed the garment over his arm and entered his exclusive security code into the wall-mounted keypad, effectively locking the car for his personal use. The doors opened immediately. The technology didn’t require him to do anything more than step inside before the doors closed and the overhead floor-indicator light displayed each passing floor, a soft ding sounding repeatedly as he traveled non-stop up the forty or so floors to his penthouse. Arik rested against the back wall, forcing a finger into the knot of his necktie to loosen its tight hold. He then removed each cuff link at his wrist and absently dropped them into his slacks pockets. The more he removed now, the faster he could hit his perfect Vera Wang mattress and shut his tired eyes.

The entire building was quiet. Another benefit to relocating to this area. Well, sort of. Dallas as a whole was quieter than any place he’d ever lived. He walked the few steps to his front door, pulling out his wallet to wave in front of the security pad when the doors didn’t unlock at his arrival. Strangely, the key card inside his wallet didn’t trigger the lock to release. Arik let out a yawn as he entered his code into the attached keypad. He’d have to remember to check his card in the morning.

The overhead lights automatically lit as he entered his front door, and the motion sensors continued lighting his way the deeper he ventured inside his home. Arik absently tossed his suit jacket on a chair in the living room, never straying from the direct path to his bedroom. He pulled his shirttails from his slacks, his level of sheer exhaustion rising with each step he took. Honestly, that had to be the only reason he didn’t register the glow of lights coming from underneath the closed door until he’d already turned the handle.

“What the fuck?” His heart almost leaped out of his chest when he stepped inside his bedroom to find someone sprawled across his bed in what probably qualified as a seductive pose. Recognition took another second to seep in.

“Surprise!” A small pop sounded and confetti flew into the air, scattering across his bed.

Arik’s brows snapped together. Oh hell no. He loved that bed.

“What the hell are you doing?” Arik asked as he moved farther inside the room. He registered the slight look of indignation and the flip of that long, black, silky hair before Boy Toy’s face morphed again into a pleasant smile.

“I came to surprise you.” BT wiggled his sexy ass and gave a cheeky little smile.

Even as tired and annoyed as he was, Arik experienced a stir below his belt. He was human after all, and this particular BT was especially skilled. He stopped at his dresser, reached inside his front slacks pockets and casually tossed the contents on the small tray. He didn’t like surprises of any kind, and BT, short for boy toy number one hundred and—hell, he’d lost count of the willing men he’d bedded—had just shocked the hell out of him.

This one was way too pretty and so deliciously tempting that for a split second he almost gave in…almost.

No, he had to stay firm. This was utter bullshit. He couldn’t have random BTs breaking into his home, surprising him at every turn, desecrating his perfect bed with confetti.

“How did you get in here?” he asked, leaning against the dresser, casually crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’ve been planning this since you left me last week. I swiped your card from your wallet when you were in the shower.” Boy Toy lost the erotic pose, probably too much strain for his delicate body.

“I guess I need to keep a closer eye on my wallet in the future.” Arik shoved away from the dresser and headed toward his closet.

“I’m beginning to think you’re not happy that I’m here. You know I’d look good on your arm for the opening of Escape Dallas.” BT hopped up from the bed and trailed after him, following him into the closet.

“Are these your things?” he asked, nodding toward the garment bag hanging in his closet with luggage settled beneath. Arik’s things had been pushed aside and replaced with BT’s, as if the guy planned to stay awhile. First the bed, now the closet. He didn’t allow anyone to breach his private space. That crossed every line he had.

Fuck, he’d known when he first saw this guy he’d be trouble. The gorgeous ones always were. Arik shook his head.

“Yes, I put them next to yours. I arrived late and didn’t have time to unpack.”

Arik abandoned his silk tie on the built-in dresser and began to grab BT’s things. The level of pissed off coursing through him now superseded any desire he might have mustered.

“You can’t ever do this again. I told you from the beginning,” Arik said, shoving the garment bag toward BT as he went for the two suitcases, then he tossed the strap of one over his shoulder and grabbed the other by the handgrip. How long had he even planned to stay that he needed all this?

“Be careful with that. It’s got my mink inside!” BT carefully draped the bag over his arm, allowing Arik to take him by his other arm and forcefully guide him from the closet.

“Why in the hell would you bring a fur coat to Texas?” Arik kept his grip tight, even when BT tried to worm his way out.

“Why would I leave home without… What are you doing?” BT actually held on to the doorframe to keep Arik from removing him from the bedroom.

“You’re going to the guest room, BT. We’ll talk—”

A solid outraged screech cut him off.

“Stop calling me that! I hate that. I have a name.” The guy went into full-on diva mode right there in the middle of his hall.

“You’ve known the deal from the beginning. I don’t like these kinds of surprises. I was very clear,” Arik said. When he realized it might take two hands to deposit BT into the guest bedroom, he went for that door, pushed it open wide, and tossed the suitcase in his hand across the room. For a second there, he’d thought the guy planned to go back to Arik’s bedroom which would have turned things pretty shitty real quick. Luckily, BT came toward him with a very calm, patient look on his face.

“If you would just go with it, we could have a very special relationship,” BT said, placing a delicate hand on Arik’s dress shirt, letting his fingers trail down Arik’s chest as he took a step closer. “I’m good at attending events with you. I look good on your arm. Besides, I’m tired of modeling. It takes up so much of my time. And if we came to some sort of arrangement, with all my extra free time, I could take care of you any way you saw fit.”

“Not gonna happen.”

BT’s words couldn’t have been better deterrent for giving in and indulging in a quick hook-up. Arik preferred his fun with no strings attached. Not that he had anything against the whole finding Mr. Right concept. But the boy toy currently groping his ass was not anywhere close to his idea of relationship material. Arik stopped the hand at his waistband and shrugged the case off his shoulder, dumping it right inside the guest bedroom door. He left the gorgeous but clearly crazy man standing there as he headed back toward his bedroom.

“I need to leave here by eight in the morning. Be ready.’’

“Seriously? You’re just leaving? I stretched myself to be ready for you.”

Arik looked back to see BT stomp his foot for good measure, his now flaccid dick swinging in the process. BT was certainly beautifully put together, tall, lean, chiseled abs, a perfect body that Arik knew from past experience could bring a lot of pleasure.

No, Arik. That was how he’d gotten in this situation in the first place. Stop. No. Walk away.

“Goodnight, BT. Don’t come back to my room,” he said at the door.

“Stop calling me BT! I’m not just your boy toy! My name is Steffan.”

Steffan—yeah, he remembered that now. Steffan twirled around and stalked into the guest bedroom, that long hair floating out around him. The door slammed shut in his wake.

Arik closed his door and reached down to twist the lock when he heard something crashing against the guest room door. Arik chuckled at that one and quickly opened his door again.

“Be ready by eight in the morning. I won’t be happy if you make me late,” he yelled before closing and relocking the door.

He staggered to the bed. His bed. Even with taking the time to rid the bedspread of the confetti and change the pillowcases where that overly strong cologne lingered, he’d still, hopefully, get at least a couple hours’ sleep.

Best Selling Author Kindle Alexander is an innovative writer, and a genre-crosser who writes classic fantasy, romance, suspense, and erotica in both the male/male and male/female genres. It’s always a surprise to see what’s coming next!

I live in the suburbs of Dallas where it’s true, the only thing bigger than an over active imagination, may be women’s hair!

Usually, I try for funny. Humor is a major part of my life – I love to laugh, and it seems to be the thing I do in most situations – regardless of the situation, but jokes are a tricky deal… I don’t want to offend anyone and jokes tend to offend. So instead I’m going to tell you about Kindle.

I tragically lost my sixteen year old daughter to a drunk driver. She had just been at home, it was early in the night and I heard the accident happen. I’ll never forget that moment. The sirens were immediate and something inside me just knew. I left my house, drove straight to the accident on nothing more than instinct. I got to be there when my little girl died – weirdly, I consider that a true gift from above. She didn’t have to be alone.

That time in my life was terrible. It’s everything you think it would be times about a billion. I love that kid. I loved being her mother and I loved watching her grow into this incredibly beautiful person, both inside and out. She was such a gift to me. To have it all ripped away so suddenly broke me.

Her name was Kindle. Honest to goodness – it was her name and she died a few weeks before Amazon released their brand new Kindle ereader. She had no idea it was coming out and she would have finally gotten her name on something! Try finding a ruler with the name Kindle on it.. It never happened.

Through the course of that crippling event I was lucky enough to begin to write with a dear friend in the fan fiction world of Facebook. She got me through those dark days with her unwavering support and friendship. There wasn’t a time she wasn’t there for me. Sometimes together and sometimes by myself, we built a world where Kindle lives and stands for peace, love and harmony. It’s its own kind of support group. I know without question I wouldn’t be here today without her.

Find out more by visiting www.kindlealexander.com or email me at kindle@kindlealexander.com

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On the Streets of New Orleans by Lynn Lorenz: Cover Reveal, Excerpt and Giveaway

September 12, 2016 by Denise

Hello to Two Chicks!! I’m thrilled to be here doing a cover reveal for my new Dreamspinner duo anthology On the Streets of New Orleans.
As a native New Orleanian and a transplanted Texan, I’ve written quite a few books set in both Texas and Louisiana. Both places hold pieces of my heart, but New Orleans definitely edges Texas out (sorry my Texas peeps!). It’s where I’m from and my true home.
With a little over 40 books/novellas under my belt, these books are some of my dearest.
I’m so honored to have my cover reveal here and so proud of the beautiful covers the amazing artist AngstyG produced for me. It was so easy working with AngstyG and as you can see, the results just sing!
This is one of my re-released stories and I’m so proud to say it’s coming out with DSP. They are a company I’ve admired and wanted to join for a few years, but never had the opportunity. I’m so glad they enjoyed my stories enough to give me this chance. I hope there will be many more stories to come!

For my reveal, I’m offering a ebook copy, in choice of format, for a lucky commenter to the blog. I’ll let Two Chicks do the selecting, but I’ll ask when you comment, let me know if you’ve ever been to New Orleans or wanted to go there. It’s one of the places I never get tired of visiting, and those who know me, know I plan all my trips there around the food. If you’ve been, tell me about your favorite meal!
Thanks again to Two Chicks for letting me crash and show off my cover!

TCO: Thank you to Lynn for stopping by with this amazing cover and excerpt! Great job by AngstyG.

Anthology Novella

Breakfast at Tiffany’s Waffles and Wings
A year after Hurricane Katrina, Scott is back in the city he loves, the city that offered him sanctuary from rural Louisiana and its prejudices, but living in a homeless shelter can be almost as dangerous as the streets.
The storm cost Tony his family, his home, and his direction in life. Now he’s squatting and stealing to make ends meet, and he’s lost all hope of things getting better.
When Scott and Tony meet, they realize it’s time to stop merely surviving. It’s time to start living again. Together.

Charlie’s Mission
Charlie is an ex-addict plagued by memories of the past. He’s doing penance working at a homeless shelter, staying away from men, drugs, and anything resembling happiness. He’s convinced he doesn’t deserve more.
Devon is determined to keep the dealers out of his neighborhood. No one operates there without his permission. When he brings a sick young man, who was selling drugs, to the mission he meets Charlie and can’t stop thinking of the man with the haunted eyes. He’s determined to give Charlie a taste of pleasure, despite Charlie’s claims that he’s not worthy of it.

The kid had stopped running, and now he quick-footed it. Tony managed to get within a block of him. They were coming up on the Café du Monde, and when the smell of the frying beignets hit his nostrils, his tummy growled. Yeah, they sure would taste some good right about now.
And he had the money to buy them. And a cup of good café au lait too.
He licked his lips as he paused on the sidewalk across from the place. All he had to do was cross the street, sit in a chair, and order up some.
Tony glanced back at the kid. He’d crossed to the next block, and soon he’d be out of sight.
With a deep inhale, Tony sucked in the aroma of the beignets, then took off down the block to catch up with the white guy. He’d get the food on the way back, for sure.
He closed the gap between them. Where the hell was this guy heading? Esplanade Avenue was just ahead, and once he crossed that, he’d be in the Fouberg Marigny.
The kid stopped for a lone car, then crossed Esplanade, the shadows of the huge oaks plunging him into darkness. For a moment Tony thought he’d lost the guy, but he stepped up on the far sidewalk and back into the light.
Tony smiled and hurried on.
Two blocks in, his target turned into an alley and disappeared.
Halting, Tony stared at the sign over the two-story building, his mouth hanging open, watering at the sight and the smells.
Tiffany’s Waffles and Wings
Breakfast served all day
What the hell? That was a damned long way to walk for some breakfast. What was the kid up to?
Tony moved forward, scanning both sides of the street. Light poured out from the two large windows that fronted the sidewalk, the door to the place between them. Parked cars lined both sides of the street, belonging to either residents or customers; he didn’t know which. Didn’t care.
He crept to the window and peeked in.
The place was crowded, not full, but at four in the morning, not bad at all. He glanced at the table nearest the window and moaned.
The biggest, most bodacious waffle he’d ever seen sat on a huge platter, three pats of butter melting on it, surrounded by three of the most golden, succulent-looking, mouth-watering, crispy fried chicken wings.
Sweet Jesus. He’d died and gone to heaven.

Scott pulled his apron over his head and tied it around his waist.
“Where y’at, sugar?” Miss Tiffany greeted him as she looked up from the counter where she tended a row of six waffle makers. “You late.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Scott nodded as he checked out her latest hair-do. This morning, she wore dozens of braids decorated with black and gold beads. They matched the black and gold Saints jersey she wore over black leggings. He’d never seen a woman with so many different ways to wear her hair, and he suspected most of them weren’t really hers.
She frowned at him. A beep sounded, and she rotated a waffle machine to cook the other side of the waffle. Then she brushed off her hands and came over to him, snatching his chin and head in her large red-brown hands as she stared at the marks on his face.
“Who did this, dawlin’?” Storms swirled in her deep amber eyes.
“Someone jumped me and took my money. I’m fine.” He knew better than to try to jerk away from her. She was strong as hell from lifting forty-pound bags of waffle mix and gallon jugs of milk. But the rest of her was round as a peach and soft as a goose down pillow.
“He got yo money?” She tsked, shook her head, and let him go.
“Just five dollars.” He shrugged. He had more in a savings account in the bank, where he kept most of his money. But it was the weekend, and no banks were open. Any cash he’d need would have to come from his tips today.
“You call the po-po?”
“No. No police.” He shook his head, and she nodded in unspoken agreement. What was the point in calling the police? The cops were overworked and stretched thin. Scott and Miss Tiffany both knew nothing would be done, and then he’d just have the cops noticing him.
Not good.
“Damn. Can’t a boy walk down the street without gettin’ mugged?” She gave him a quick kiss on his cheek and a slap on his ass as she turned him around. “Go on. Get in there. I got tables need busin’. Then you can wait tables.”

Dreamspinner Press

Lynn Lorenz is an award-winning and best-selling author who grew up in New Orleans but currently lives in Texas, where she’s a fan of all things Texan, like Longhorns, big hair, and cowboys in tight jeans. She’s never met a comma she didn’t like, and enjoys editing and brainstorming with other writers. Lynn spends most of her time writing about hot sex with even hotter heroes, plot twists, werewolves, and medieval swashbucklers. She’s currently at work on her latest book, making herself giggle and blush, and avoiding all the housework.

A Nice Normal Family by John Terry Moore: Cover Reveal and Excerpt

August 30, 2016 by Denise

Jackson “Jacko” Smith is dyslexic, but like many people affected by the learning disability, he is highly intelligent. His best friend Sammy Collins helps him get through school and unlocks his potential. Jacko progresses through the ranks of local government until Mother Nature intervenes and the straight boy and the gay boy become a couple.

As Jacko and Sammy start a family and challenge social mores, Jacko enters politics, horrified at the direction Australian government is taking. With Sammy by his side, he can achieve anything and rises through the ranks to the highest office in the land, driving Australia away from its British colonial roots and engaging with its neighbors in Asia like never before. Economic growth results, and while most Australians are supportive, a small group of extremists might endanger everything Jacko has built—including his life.

Through the love and the strength of their partnership, Jacko and Sammy rise above their ordinary lives. Because love is never ordinary.

eBook: https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/a-nice-normal-family-by-john-terry-moore-7573-b

Paperback: https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/a-nice-normal-family-by-john-terry-moore-7574-b

With Matt’s help I found a stall selling magnificent orchids, and after explaining their purpose, the owner giggled and put them together into a stunning presentation vase.

Then I bolted for the room, peace offering in hand.

I arrived outside the door realizing I’d left my key card behind, so I rang the bell like a florist with a special delivery.

The door flung open. He’d been crying, and my heart nearly broke in two.

“Jacko, where have you been? I was so worried about you I was nearly sick.”

I couldn’t say anything much because I too was choked up, but I managed to thrust the flowers into his hand and say, “These are for you. I’m sorry I made a dick of myself.”

His eyes shone.

Sammy always loved flowers; he loved growing them, displaying them, and I knew he loved them as a gift.

“Well,” he said with a grin, “they’re beautiful, thank you, but really I’m as much to blame as you are.”

“No, you’re not,” deciding I had to ramp up the stakes. First I had to wipe away his tears, very unromantically, with my thumb. Then I did what I have should have done many years ago and kissed him, on the lips. Beautiful, full, puffy pillows they were, and suddenly the world lit up, it was like someone had just turned the lights on.

We stood there gazing at each other in bloody wonderment as we leaned in and did it again. There was love in Sammy’s eyes, but I could see the concern also, one of the benefits of some dyslexic people seeing things on a different level.

John Terry Moore and Russell Baum, his partner of thirty three years, live in Geelong, Victoria’s largest regional centre, one hour from Melbourne, Australia. Many factors influenced John in the writing of this novel, not the least of which has been Russell’s dyslexia, how it affected him as a young person and how it has played out in his subsequent life.

John’s interest in same sex partnerships, economics, politics and Asian affairs have also played a major role in the storyline.

John and Russell have travelled extensively throughout Asia for many years. Studiously avoiding western tourists, they have inserted themselves into the culture and the daily lifestyles of the local people and consequently have a unique overview and understanding of Asian nations, (ASEAN in particular), and the relationships those countries have with Australia.

John completed his education at Hobart Matriculation College, and held a number of senior positions in the automotive industry over a thirty five year period, working separately for three Asian motor companies.

He has been a civil marriage celebrant and funeral celebrant for many years, (now retired), witnessing at first hand rapidly changing Australian public opinion questioning traditional family structures and also questioning Australia’s place in the world. Australia remains tied to the British Commonwealth, yet with the fastest growing global economies only a few hours away in Asia, the messages Australia sends to its neighbors sometimes appear confusing and unhelpful.

John is a passionate advocate of same sex marriage and equal rights for same sex parents and their children, encouraging, supporting and driving the push for marriage equality in Australia. That LGBTI people should finally be embraced as an integral part of society, removing the scourge of homophobia and the risk of self harm, replacing it with humanity, commonsense and love. That only when everyone is treated exactly the same under law will society begin to heal itself.