Release Day Review

The Last One to Let You Down by K.L. Hiers: RDB, Excerpt, Review and Giveaway

November 16, 2020 by Denise

Thomas Hill is a lonely embalmer who’s in some big trouble – his ex-boyfriend has been forcing him to illegally sell dangerous chemicals with no signs of stopping, and Tom doesn’t know what to do. His situation gets even more complicated when Cypress Holmes, a smoking hot local florist, walks in on Tom making a deal. Cypress agrees to keep quiet, but his silence comes at a price.

He wants Tom to do exactly as he says and to give him complete and total control over his body at all times. Tom now has no choice but to obey Cypress’s every command to stay out of jail. But when Cypress starts spanking him and tying him up, he realizes he doesn’t mind the rough treatment at all. With or without the threat of blackmail hanging over his head, he likes what Cypress does to him… and he doesn’t want it to stop.

Author’s Note: This book includes intense sexual scenes, rough spankings, and depictions of death and embalming as they relate to the funeral industry. If this material offends or may upset you, please don’t read this book.

Book Title: The Last One to Let You Down

Author: K.L. Hiers

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Covers by Jo

Release Date: November 13, 2020

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romance, BDSM Romance

Trope/s: Funeral Director/Florist Romance, Blackmail Leads to Love, BDSM Virgin

Themes: Personal Growth, Dealing with Death, Difficult Jobs,

Learning to Love Yourself

Heat Rating: 5 flames

Length: 102 000 words

It is a standalone story.

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Tom was an embalmer, and he’d been working at Crosby-Ayers Funeral Home in Mayfield, North Carolina, for over ten years. He’d done his apprenticeship there after graduating mortuary school and had stayed on once he’d gotten his license. The funeral home was busy enough to support him working solely as an embalmer, and he didn’t have to meet with families like Aaron, who was a funeral director.

Aaron had the right look for it. He was handsome, olive skinned with curly black hair and a confident smile. He could offer sympathy with ease and wore a suit well.

Tom… not so much.

He felt like a silly kid playing dress-up when he wore a suit, and they were always too tight no matter how much he tried to lose the stubborn weight he carried around his stomach and thighs. He was only wearing one today because he thought he was going to have to help out on a funeral.

They hadn’t needed him after all, which was fine by Tom. He didn’t do well with the living, and he’d been told more than once that he came off as creepy.

He was quite pale with chin length mousy brown hair, and his big blue eyes gave him an owlish appearance. He thought it made him look startled or afraid, not quite right for instilling confidence in a family that he was going to help them through their difficult time.

It also didn’t help that he was painfully shy.

Fortunately for Tom, his embalming talents usually kept him in the preparation room and away from families. His specialty was restorative art, repairing those who had suffered traumatic deaths so that their families could see them again.

The woman he had just finished was a Mrs. Jan Winslow, who had died on a Friday, and her body was not found until Monday. During that time, her beloved Pomeranian, Mister Doodles, had eaten the entire right half of her face.

“Walk me through it,” Aaron asked eagerly. “Like, tell me how you do it?”

“Well, you can’t do anything really until after you’ve embalmed them.” Tom stood up and stretched, peeling off his gloves and dropping them into the biohazard trash. “Makeup and the wax we use doesn’t stick that great to unembalmed skin. Slides right off if you’re not careful.

“The next step is cauterizing all of that exposed tissue. Embalming helps dry it out some, but you really wanna make sure it doesn’t leak so we use other chemicals, cauterants like Dryene, to help. Once the skin is good and dry, then we start filling.”

“What do you fill it with? I mean, I saw her before. There was a lot… missing.”

“You can use a bunch of different things depending on how big the wound is,” Tom replied, pulling open the prep room door and ushering Aaron out into the hallway.

It was often full of freshly delivered caskets, stretchers, and bags from the linen service, and today was no different. Tom had to carefully navigate around two caskets and a stack of towels, trying to lead Aaron back out to the offices to continue their conversation.

“Old school embalmers would use newspaper or cotton,” Tom went on, grabbing his suit jacket off the rack by the office door. “These days, they actually make compounds called ‘wound filler’ to well, fill wounds. And then—” He paused when he heard a loud slam, glancing back over his shoulder to see what it was.

At the other end of the hall were three doors. The one on the right led into the walk-in cooler, the one directly opposite the office door was an exit that led into the side parking lot, and the one on the left connected the hallway to the garage. The coaches and limos were stored there, and there was a special door in the corner for flower deliveries.

All of the doors for employees required a code to enter except for that one, and it stayed unlocked during business hours for flower deliveries. Someone could get inside the garage to drop off arrangements, but they wouldn’t be able to get into the hallway.

The hallway door to the garage had been left propped open, probably from a casket being delivered earlier, and the sound Tom had heard was the flower delivery door slamming inside the garage. As his heart began to pound in anticipation, he forgot all about Aaron.

HFG might be here.

Hot Flower Guy.

“Hey, where are you going?” Aaron protested.

“Just go to the office!” Tom called back, already halfway back down the hall. “I’ll meet you in there!”

“Okay,” Aaron replied reluctantly. “Then you’ll finish telling me about wound filler stuff?”

“Scout’s honor!” Tom slowed down as he approached the open door, putting his jacket on and trying not to appear too eager as he stepped inside the garage. He broke into a huge smile when he saw it was HFG in all of his bulging glory.

HFG was black, tall, and broad with thick shoulders and an even thicker beard framing his dark brown face, and Tom had daydreamed about running his hands all over his body. They had barely even spoken more than a few words, but Tom had a definite crush.

The funeral home hours didn’t give Tom much freedom and being on call almost every night killed any chance of an active social life. After a nasty breakup followed by a disappointing string of one night stands through dating apps, he’d committed to staying single until the funeral home hired more help.

In the meantime, he’d grown quite fond of HFG’s deliveries. He didn’t even know his name, but he’d been trying to find out for weeks. HFG was always in and out too quickly to ever strike up a conversation, and Tom wanted a name to go with that gorgeous face.

It didn’t matter that HFG was painfully out of his league—unless he happened to be into pasty white brunettes who had never grown out of their baby fat with big chins and an awkward little gap between their front teeth.

Tom had been cruelly teased about his smile since he was a little kid, no doubt the root of his introverted nature, but he was too excited about seeing HFG to care for once. As he stepped into the garage, however, his joy instantly faded.

HFG was there, but he was arguing with the assistant manager of the funeral home, Gerald Ayers.

Gerald was a prick.

No, he was the absolute king of pricks.

Lesson learned. No more by this author. Honestly, I didn’t remember the author’s name as anything I had read before. But I did. And, well… let’s just say my fondness hasn’t grown.

I wanted to like it. Slightly overweight guy who works at a funeral home, black guy who owns and runs his families floral shop. Some BDSM. A little mystery as a plot. But no.

First, the BDSM was so sloppy. I mean, they went to a “house party” were not only was there drinking, but the dungeon master was acting as a bartender. Cypress did not come off as a real Dom, more like a guy playing as a Dom.

And, honestly, I love learning new things in books. But the pages and pages and pages of procedures for embalming someone were just a little too much.

Tom is whiny and needy and it is not attractive at all. Even with Cypress making him do affirmations in the mirror everyday didn’t help. Sorry, but I laughed out loud when Tom was fighting with his ex and called himself a tiger.

I won’t continue. I think you get the gist. Oh, there really should be a suicide trigger warning as well.

2 pieces of eye candy

K.L. “Kat” Hiers is an embalmer, restorative artist, and queer writer. Licensed in both funeral directing and funeral service, she’s been working in the death industry for nearly a decade. Her first love was always telling stories, and she has been writing for over twenty years, penning her very first book at just eight years old. Publishers generally do not accept manuscripts in Hello Kitty notebooks, however, but she never gave up.

Following the success of her first novel, Cold Hard Cash, she now enjoys writing professionally, focusing on spinning tales of sultry passion, exotic worlds, and emotional journeys. She loves attending horror movie conventions and indulging in cosplay of her favorite characters. She lives in Zebulon, NC, with her husband and their children, some of whom have paws and a few that only pretend to because they think it’s cute.

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The Hunter’s Gambit by Nicholas McIntire: Blog Tour, Excerpt, New Release Review and Giveaway

November 4, 2020 by Denise

Aleksei Drago never expected an easy life, but he never expected what he got. Growing up amongst the Ri-Vhan of Seil Wood, losing his mother and just as suddenly being torn from the forest folk, Aleksei had no choice but to make the best of the unpredictable path in life.

But what happens when the monsters and figures of fiction become horrifyingly real? Can Aleksei find the right path? When his life and the lives of his family and friends are at stake will he fight, reforging himself into the man Prophecy demands he become? In a world of magic and Magi, of Angels and Demons alike, how will a simple farm boy survive his own contorted destiny?

This is the story of a seemingly-simple world gone mad, and the reality that every action, no matter how apparently benign, can serve to unravel terrifying truths. This is the story of Aleksei Drago, farmer, Hunter, and so much more.

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Henry spent the rest of the day watching his son closely. Something was undeniably troubling him, but until Aleksei decided to open up to him there was nothing he could do.

“He’ll tell you in his own time, Henry.” he muttered under his breath.

So he waited. Every now and then he would engage his son in conversation, but every time he thought Aleksei might be on the brink of telling him something, the conversation fled to some superficial topic. Did he think it would rain by Market Day? Who did he think would bring the biggest pig to the Harvest Festival? Did he think Mother Margareta would come to bless their fields before the first frost?

Henry answered each question as though it was the direction he meant to steer the conversation, and refused to allow his frustration to surface. But by the end of the evening, he was no closer to understanding his son’s troubles than he’d been that morning.

Finally Aleksei rose from his seat before the fire, put his book away, and went to bed. Henry watched him go, more troubled than ever. The boy had never gone to bed without a word before. He always had some last comment to make, even if it was just to wonder at the next day’s activities.

Henry sat before the dying embers of the fire well into the night, thinking. He didn’t remember falling asleep, so when the voice woke him his eyes started open.

Hello, Henry.

He looked around, trying to get his bearings.

Gone was the heat of the hearth, the comfort of his chair. Instead he stood in an enveloping fog of shimmering gold.

He could see no one.

“Where am I?” Henry demanded.

A dream, Henry. This is merely an illusion. I apologize that I cannot offer you more comfortable surroundings at the moment.

“Who are you?” Henry called, feeling a touch foolish, shouting at phantoms.

His question went unanswered.

Henry, I’ve come to ask a favor.

“Who are you?” Henry repeated flatly.

There was a moment of hesitation before the voice responded. A man much like yourself, Henry Drago. One who only wants what’s best for your son.

“Speak then.”

When the favor was uttered, Henry blinked in confusion. A thousand questions bubbled to the surface, yet he found that he only possessed the strength to ask one.

“Why?” he choked, surprised by the weakness in his own voice.

The air before his face shimmered and distorted, as though he were looking through intense heat. Slowly, images formed. Images of Aleksei. An Aleksei he didn’t recognize.

“Why are you showing me this?” Henry managed.

Because I want you to see what your son could become. The man he could be, if you’d only let him. If you just do as I say.

“I don’t trust you.” Henry barked back. “I can’t even see your face.”

Another image shimmered into being. A man, though Henry saw nothing remarkable about him. The man leaned forward and whispered in his ear, and Henry heard the unmistakable ring of truth.

In that moment he thought he might have preferred a dagger to the heart. It would have been far less painful to simply die at the end of a highwayman’s blade than to agree to this. Either way, he would lose the most precious thing he had.

“Bargain struck.” Henry whispered bitterly, a tear winding its way down his cheek.

You’re doing your son a great service, Henry Drago.

The man even sounded earnest.

Henry started to say something, but even as he opened his mouth, darkness swirled around him. He slipped back into the empty chasms of sleep.

Morning greeted Aleksei gently, rousing him from a dreamless oblivion. It had taken him hours to finally find some rest, and his relief was immeasurable when he woke without encountering the specter of the green-eyed man. His wish had been granted. The man was gone.

He made his way down the narrow stairway and walked into the kitchen, frowning at what greeted him. Their rough wooden table was laid out with provisions for what Aleksei could only guess was a journey.

But a journey where? His father hadn’t said anything about travel. There was still wood to chop and hay to store. The first snow might be weeks away, but there was no telling when the winds would usher in the chill of Northern air. Working outside in the cold was not something he, nor any farmer, relished.

“I see you’re up.” Henry said from behind. Aleksei jumped.

He turned, “Da, where are we going? I thought we were going to finish the hay this morning.”

His father shook his head and smiled, though Aleksei caught the deep sadness in Henry’s eyes. “We aren’t going anywhere, Son. You are.”

Aleksei frowned, “Me? But I thought—”

His father tried to hold the smile, but it was forced, “You’re needed, Son. In the North.”

Aleksei thought his heart would stop. He forgot to breathe. He could hardly process what his father had just said.

You know the truth he speaks, Aleksei.

Aleksei fought back a sob of frustration. He thought he’d freed himself of the damned voice, but now he knew the truth. He would never be free from it. It would hound him until the end of his days, or until it drove him mad, whichever came first.

Or until you simply do as I ask.

“Why?” he finally managed.

His father looked out the kitchen window, and Aleksei followed his gaze. Dash waited patiently outside, a saddle fitted snugly about his muscular frame.

“Because you’re needed, Son. It’s the only answer I can give you.”

“I’m not needed here, Da? Don’t you need me?”

Henry bit back the pain in his voice, “You are more of a help than I can say, Aleksei, and I love you dearly. But no, I don’t need you. Not like this. If you stayed here, you’d be wasting something…extraordinary. And honestly, I think you’d know it too. They need you in the North, Son. And their need is much more important than mine.”

Aleksei stood there, stunned by what his father was saying to him. And then the questions came pouring forth. What did Henry mean by ‘extraordinary’? What had his father learned? What was still being kept from him?

“And I’m sorry I can’t give you the answers you want, Son. But I think you know who can. Find him.”

“But how can I….” Aleksei began, fighting back the tears springing into his eyes.

“You’re strong, Aleksei. You’ve always been strong. That won’t fail you now.”

Henry swallowed back his own tears and tried to smile again, “Now you’d better get on the road. The sooner you get beyond the Southern Plain, the better. You don’t want to be riding under the Harvest sun too long if you can help it.”

“But where am I going?” Aleksei cried, his voice breaking. It was happening too fast. His life was slipping through his fingers moment by moment and there was nothing he could do about it.

“North, Son. North. You’ll know where you’re headed as you get closer. That’s all I know to tell you.”

Aleksei looked into his father’s eyes and saw the sadness, the regret that burned within him. His father wanted to know just as badly as he, to know just what sort of place he was so blindly sending his son.

Finally, after a long silence, Aleksei nodded. “Alright, Da. If you want me to go, then I’ll go.”

“I’ll never want you to go, Son.” Henry whispered, his face contorting with pain. He had already lost his wife, and now he was losing his son, too. Aleksei would still be alive, but he would be so far away.

“But promise me something, Aleksei.”

Aleksei nodded, “Anything, Da.”

“If you find this place and if it’s not what you want, what you need, promise me you’ll come back. Even if this isn’t what you want either, at least we can figure that out together.”

Aleksei finally allowed a tear to wind its way down his cheek, “I promise, Da.”

Henry stepped forward and wrapped his arms tightly around his son, hugging him as close as he could, as though any moment Aleksei might turn to mist and vanish forever. Henry stepped back and managed a sardonic smile. Aleksei might remain solid as stone, but surely enough he was about to vanish.

Henry didn’t watch his son ride away. In truth, he couldn’t bear it. As long as he’d never seen Aleksei leave he could always pretend the boy was out in the barn, or by the pond he’d swum in as a child. It was a good hour before Henry allowed himself to sit down in his chair and sob.

Classic high fantasy and it’s a long book. Be prepared to spend the first few chapters getting into the story because it has a complicated and highly intense magic world. I’d been reading for over and hour and a half and I happened to look at my kindle percentage read and I was at 4%. Yep.

So I settled myself in for the long haul and by 20% I was struggling to put it down. Absolutely classic hero’s journey but the twist is that Alexei (our hero) has two people that could either be his antagonist/second MC/mystical life partner and for a long time the author keeps us guessing.

Each magus (magic wielder/user) in Nicholas McIntire’s world is always paired with a knight. They live and fight together. If one dies they both die.

But like I said Alexei (who becomes the Knight) has no idea which magus he is supposed to pair with.

They both are dragging our farm-boy hero to travel hundreds of miles north based on voices in his head, premonitions, and an interesting back story the author is very stingy about how much and when he gives away.

It’s not pretty. There’s a lot of death, blood, suffering, and some amazing magical twists, abilities, and things never seem to work out quite how you were expecting.

Things get further complicated when our farm boy starts developing abilities of his own.

Complications get answered and resolved, but not completely finished even though the journey has a satisfying ending for our couple, I was immediately ready for book two.

4.5 pieces of eye candy

Critically-acclaimed author Nicholas McIntire has been writing fantasy since he was 8 years old. The bones of the Archanium Codex were first created when he was 16, and in the past 20 years, he has taken that initially simple idea and crafted it into a fully realized world, finished the sequel, earned three degrees (one in Russian, Eastern European Studies, two in Nursing), and lived life to its fullest. Now writing full-time, Nicholas is ready for share is vision of the Archanium Codex, a 10 book series. The first book of the series being The Hunter’s Gambit.

Nicholas, lives in Fort Worth, Texas, but writes in both Fort Worth and Fort Davis, TX, where his family has a small place situated at 5200 feet in the Davis Mountains – and, yes, Texas does have mountains.

Author Website: https://www.nickmcintire.com/

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/NGMcIntire/

Author Twitter: @nickmcintire

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17088295.Nicholas_McIntire

Author Amazon: https://amzn.to/2Jw900a

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Flicker (The Fire of Felwing Book 1) by Elizabeth Tybush: Release Day Review

November 2, 2020 by Denise

Stripped of his magick and exiled to Earth, Solin Felwing vows to redeem himself. He committed a lot of bad for “the greater good” and the only way to make up for it is to give back to those he stole from. Incognito, of course, to avoid being brought to justice by humankind.

Solin volunteers at a soup kitchen, but his redemption is thrown into disarray when his best friend Jemier arrives to profess his love. Sam, Solin’s one-man support group and only human friend, thinks Solin deserves better.

When old enemies resurface, Solin fears his attempt to change is over for good. He could easily wipe his foes from existence—if he had his magick. Saving his friends—and himself—means compromising in new ways, but the temptation to sin remains. Everything could change in a flicker.

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I love fantasy, and I especially love a fantasy world that has been crafted so intricately and with attention to detail as this one has.
Unfortunately, this is going to have to be a review of two halves.

The world the author has created, the Dragon Kings, the battles with the giants, and the intricate politics and ultimate betrayal of Solin who should have been King on his brother’s death, but instead was banished to Earth, was all very well done.

I also love the way she crafts the timing of each chapter. She goes back and forth from present day on Earth and Solin’s banishment, to the events in his home world and what leads to his exile.

All good, all very well done.

Then we get to the tricky part. This is a slow burn romance quite common in classic fantasies, which again I was expecting with one problem, and one I can’t get around. By the end of the book I still don’t know who Solin’s love interest is or going to be, and quite honestly it could be one of five people between both worlds. This was a bit too much for me and forces me to drop the rating, because slow burn is one thing, frustration is quite another.

If the guessing wouldn’t worry you and you want well thought out fantasy then this book ticks the boxes. I just wanted a little more.

3.5 pieces of eye candy

Liars (Licking Thicket Book 2) by Lucy Lennox & May Archer: Exclusive Excerpt, New Release Review and Giveaway

October 29, 2020 by Denise

Parrish Partridge’s True Facts:

There’s nothing hotter than a tall, gruff, bewildered, tattooed mountain of a man cuddling a sweet, orphaned baby, so you can tell yourself that you’ll resist him…

But that’s a lie.

And when that man asks you to do him a favor and pretend to be his very temporary, very fake fiance to help him get custody of that adorable baby, you can pretend you know better than to say yes…

But that’s a lie, too.

And when you actually get to know your kind, strong, pullet-loving prince of a fiance, and all his crazy, lovable, meddling neighbors, you can tell yourself you’re not really falling for Diesel Church and the town of Licking Thicket…

But that might be the biggest lie of all.

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“This is really pretty, actually.”

I followed his gaze as he looked around at the honeyed wood paneling I’d installed on the walls and ceiling in the kitchen and the living area just beyond it. Despite baby crap everywhere, my home was clean and bright. It may have been small and really run-down on the outside, but I’d been working hard to fix up the inside myself, and I was proud of it.

“Thank you,” I said gruffly, turning away to look for enough space in the fridge to fit his chicken dish. I didn’t have much in the way of food right now, so it was mostly an excuse not to have to meet his eyes after throwing him under the bus like I had.

“So… this is chicken pot pie with bacon-and-cheddar biscuits. I forgot to write down the reheating instructions. Do you have a pen and piece of paper?”

I glanced up at him from the door of the fridge. That was it? He wasn’t going to ask me what kind of crack I was smoking and why I’d claimed him as mine before we’d even officially met?

“Uh, sure. Lemme see…” I rooted around in the nearby junk drawer until I found a sticky-note pad and half-chewed pencil. “Sorry,” I muttered.

He took it delicately between two fingers and began to write the instructions in tidy penmanship before placing the sticky note onto the tinfoil.

“There. I hope you like it. I know it’s not much, but… I wanted to apologize for the way I snapped at you the other day, and Uncle Beau says no one’s ever gone wrong with an apology casserole.” He blinked rapidly and began looking everywhere but at me. “Which is probably not true. I kind of wonder if anyone’s accidentally poisoned someone with one, you know? Like, God forbid, at a funeral or a wake? What if they’d accidentally used old mayo or bad eggs or…” He blinked up at me and blushed as red as his old beater car out front. “Maybe that’s inappropriate. I promise I used all fresh ingredients in yours.”

He was adorably flustered, and I wanted to kiss his fool face off right there in the middle of my kitchen.

“It’s alright. I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I managed. I wasn’t about to tell him I was a vegetarian. I didn’t tell most people anyway, but I for damned sure wasn’t telling a man who’d gone out of his way to bring me a bacon-and-chicken casserole thing.

We stared at each other for a beat before he pulled the dish off the counter and shoved it at me. “Fridge is best. And, um… I probably have to go now.”

I took the dish and turned to throw it in the fridge, but when I turned back around, he was already halfway across the room waving goodbye over his shoulder and thanking me for my generosity in supplying him with writing implements. He reached the door and pulled it open, only to realize it was the coat closet. “Oh.”

I slapped my hand over my mouth as he turned in a few confused circles and tried a different door. That one was to my bedroom. He let out a little squeaky noise of alarm and slammed the door closed again. The sound shot like a crack through the small house, waking the baby he probably hadn’t noticed asleep in the portable crib on the far side of my bed. Suddenly, Marigold’s angry shrieks rang out around us.

The look of horror on Parrish’s face was almost comical. “Oh my God, my apology casserole visit is going to need an apology casserole,” he whispered in shock. “This is unprecedented.”

I really enjoyed the first book in this series, so the opportunity to read Parrish and Diesel’s story, was a “gimme”. These two authors write very well together, and bring the funny.

I laughed out loud several times. The fall festival??? HILARIOUS!

“Now everyone knows Johnsons are big fans of the Lickin.'” Amos rolled his eyes. “That ain’t no secret. Big Red Johnson goes crazy at Lickin’ time. And don’t get me wrong. Nutters like the Lickin’ too, But you might say bobbing is what Nutters do best.”

Just dying laughing. However, I also cried at some of it (you’ll know when you get there…it’s a nose blowing time).

Overall though, these two men…they definitely needed a class on communication. Liars was an apt name for this book. They had a really hard time telling the truth and actually talking to each other, not just about their needs and wants, but about things as simple as Diesel not eating chicken casserole because he was vegetarian.

The two MC’s really stood well together in the face of the challenge of raising one infant, and it was so endearing. Where Diesel had some challenges at being a sudden father, Parrish was able to step in, help, and teach Diesel some of what he needed to know.

Another fun, sexy (HAWT!), and endearing book by these two authors who know how to do small town romance right. 🙂

4 pieces of eye candy

After enjoying creative writing as a child, Lucy didn’t write her first novel until she was over 40 years old. Her debut novel, Borrowing Blue, was published in the autumn of 2016. Lucy has an English Literature degree from Vanderbilt University, but that doesn’t hold a candle to the years and years of staying up all night reading tantalizing novels on her own. She has three children, plays tennis, and hates folding laundry. While her husband is no shmoopy romance hero, he is very good at math, cooks a mean lasagne, has gorgeous eyes, looks hot in his business clothes, and makes her laugh every single day.

Lucy hopes you enjoy sexy heroes as much as she does. Happy reading!

May is an M/M author who lives in Boston. She spends her days raising three incredibly sarcastic children, finding inventive ways to drive her husband crazy, planning beach vacations, avoiding the gym, reading M/M romance, and occasionally writing it. She also writes MF romance as Maisy Archer.

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Feel the Fire: A Firefighter Reunion Romance (Hotshots Book 3) by Annabeth Albert: New Release Review

October 28, 2020 by Denise

The third installment of Annabeth Albert’s Hotshots series—the emotions and intensity of Chicago Fire with the raw, natural elements of Man vs. Wild.

When their career paths bring two high school sweethearts together again, the forest isn’t the only thing ablaze…

Fire behavior specialist Luis Riviera goes where his job takes him. But when he’s assigned to an arson investigation in Central Oregon—the place he left his broken heart twenty years ago—he’s afraid of being burned all over again.

Tucker Ryland had planned to join his first love, Luis, in LA after high school graduation, but life got in the way. Now a fire management expert and a divorced father of teen twins, Tucker’s thrown for a loop when he finds himself working side by side with his Luis, now all grown up and more intriguing than ever.

Though consumed by a grueling fire season and family responsibilities, the two men discover their bond has never truly broken. Tentative kisses turn to passionate nights. But smoking sheets aside, old hurts and new truths stand in the way of this time being the start of forever.

Danger lurks everywhere for Central Oregon’s fire crews, but the biggest risk of all might be losing their hearts. Don’t miss the Hotshots series from Annabeth Albert: High Heat, Burn Zone and Feel the Fire.

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Yep, I think this one is definitely my favorite of the series so far. For several reasons.

Long lost love and reconnection. Tucker and Luis were best friends in high school. And then they started to become more. Until Luis’ father was transferred to California for his job. Being teenagers in love, they had a plan to stick it out until they graduated high school, then reunite and be together. But the cruel world got in the way.

Fast forward many years- 18? 19? and Luis is sent back to the town he lived in with Tucker to help out with an arson investigation their fire service is doing. Surprise! Tucker works there.

Grown men who have each done a lot of living since they last saw each other. Tucker married, had twins and divorced. The twins are now 17 (and pretty funny characters in the story) and he is best friends with his ex wife. Hey, it happens!

Luis was injured as a firefighter so he is no longer on the front lines. He also lost a long term boyfriend. Neither Luis or Tucker are ready for something. Silly boys.

So, the guys acknowledged from the start that it would probably go nowhere since they lived over 1000 miles apart. I really enjoyed the fact that Tucker’s ex wife was his best friend and a big part of his life. AND she wasn’t like so many of the ex wives I read that are stupidly involved with their ex husband’s love life. I mean, she was nosy. But that was a given.

Tucker also took the time to discover exactly what his sexuality was to him.

When they were together, they were adorable. They were like teenagers, discovering each other, flirting, touching, doing little things. It was really so sweet. They listened to each other, they still put their jobs (and the twins) first, etc.

And then came the plot point that I knew was coming. BUT! I was very pleasantly surprised. That is all I will say about that.

Two guys, acting like grown ups, doing the non exciting part of firefighting, but acting like teenagers together. Very swoony.

4 Pieces of Eye Candy

Lacuna by N.R. Walker: Excerpt and Release Day Review

October 27, 2020 by Denise

A boychild swathed in green, a distinct tree-shaped birthmark on his wrist. A girlchild enveloped in red, marked with the three lines of the desert winds. A boy bundled in white, the koi mark on his wrist as defined as his shock of red hair. And a boychild wrapped in black, a raven his mark to serve his fate.

* * *

Twenty-five years ago, the hand of fate marked four newborns and sent them to the four corners of the Great Kingdoms. They were schooled and trained as rulers of their lands in preparation for the Golden Eclipse ceremony: a festival to celebrate a thousand years of peace and prosperity since the Great War.

Crow, ruler of Northlands, a skilled swordsman and expert tactician, is as reclusive and stoic as the mountains that surround him.

Tancho has spent his life in strict discipline, governing the Westlands with a fair mind and gentle hand. Quiet and unassuming, yet lethal in combat, he is the embodiment of the waters he lives by.

Yet the same hand of fate unknowingly linked Tancho to Crow in ways they cannot comprehend. Ruled by the stars, the Brother Sun and the two Sister Moons above them, and marked by an alchemical sorcery as old as time, their destinies were never their own.

As the eclipse draws near and the festival begins, word comes of another threat. Invaders from unknown lands bring a war no one was prepared for, and Crow and Tancho must decide on which side of the battle line they stand.

In life or death, their destinies will see them joined either way.

Title: Lacuna

Author: NR Walker

Genre: LGBT Fantasy/Gay Fiction

Release date: October 23, 2020

Tropes: Enemies-to-lovers, action and adventure, swords and sorcery, romance

Amazon – Kindle Unlimited

The winter sun was at high noon, shining a spotlight on the two men sword-fighting in the open courtyard of the Northlands’ castle. Mirroring the rocky outcrops in the snowy landscape, black flags marked with a single white raven shimmered in the cool winds. Dark grey stone bricks gleamed as the sunlight turned icy frost into fleeting jewels, and the clang of metal on metal, grunts of effort, and bouts of laughter echoed skyward.

The broadsword grazed Crow’s cheek, the burn of sliced skin and a warm trickle of blood down his cheek made him smile. Soko paused for the briefest moment, horrified that he had struck his king. Crow used the moment of distraction and swung for his neck. Soko parried, and with another bark of laughter, the fight went on.

Plumes of steam escaped with every exhale, sweat cooled on heated skin. Crow’s dark hair was damp and clung to his pale face; his dark eyes sparkled with delight as they always did when he sparred with Soko. Friends since childhood, Crow trusted no one as he trusted Soko. Surrounded by consuls and guards and staff who abided by his every whim, he could count on Soko for his honesty and reason. He told him truths when no one else dared, and he never held back when they fenced or sparred, such as they were doing now.

Crow was bound by responsibility and duty, as kings often were. Even as a small boy, Crow had studied the ancient ways, the lore of his ancestors of the Northlands. Studied, trained, studied, trained when he’d have rather done anything else, and yet it was Soko who had willingly stood beside him. Brothers, even if there was not one drop of shared blood between them.

Soko’s hair was ashen blond and shaggy, his eyes blue and sharp. He had a smile of mischief and wit, a keen mind for learning and a keener eye for women, whereas Crow was dark and brooding, and his eye was drawn to the forms of men. Soko was free to act upon his impulses and there had never been a shortage of satisfied women in the Northlands’ castle, yet Crow had never been free.

Who wears the mark bears the crown . . .

Bound by responsibility and duty. And the birthmark on his wrist. Even the mere thought of it . . .

He hissed at the pain and dropped his sword, pulling at the leather wrist guard, fumbling to get the straps undone.

“What is it?” Soko asked, immediately concerned. “It itches still?”

“No,” Crow breathed. He finally pulled the guard from his arm and covered the birthmark with his cold fingers. “It burns.”

“Burns? What the—”

Just then, the heavy wooden doors to the courtyard swung inward. Soko spun into a ready stance with his sword raised to protect Crow, without fault, without question. The young messenger raised his hands in alarm, breathing hard, his eyes trained on the blade.

“What is it?” Soko demanded.

“Excuse me, my lord,” the messenger said, bowing his head to Crow. “A lone rider comes. At pace.”

A lone rider coming to the city was not uncommon. Villagers traded food and wares all the time. “What of it?” Crow asked, still clutching his wrist. “Why the urgency?”

The messenger swallowed hard. “The rider and horse bear the yellow flag of the Elders’ Consul.”

Soko lowered his sword and turned to Crow, his eyes wide and face ashen, for it could only mean one thing.

The birthmark on Crow’s wrist continued to burn.

* * *

Dressed now in warmer clothes, Crow and Soko stood at one of the grand hall windows watching as the yellow-clad rider made his way through the gates of the castle. Crow had his guards meet the man, one taking his horse, one escorting the rider inside, out of view, knowing it would take several minutes for the rider to be brought to see him.

Crow held his wrist, trying to ignore the burn.

“It’s never caused you pain before,” Soko noted. “And I don’t think a visit from the Elders’ Consul is a coincidence.”

Crow winced again and Soko took his hand, inspecting the birthmark. It looked as it always had; dark against his pale skin, oddly beautiful and abstract, the clear form of a raven in full flight, its wings outstretched. The mark which showed Crow’s predestined fate appeared no different; though it had begun to itch at the last full moons, now it burned like fire ants crawling beneath his skin.

Crow tugged his hand away and pulled down his coat sleeve. “I’m fine, and make no mention of it in front of company.”

After a brief pause, Soko sighed. “It’s time, isn’t it? That’s what this means? The festival draws near.”

Crow gave a nod before the sound of approaching footsteps put an end to this conversation. The two heavy doors opened and a guard appeared and bowed his head. “My lord, messenger of the Elders’ Consul.”

He stepped aside and the visitor strode forward. He wore the Consul’s yellow tunic under a heavy coat of the same colour, with the four-pointed compass rose emblazoned upon his chest. He appeared slightly dishevelled and tired, though he bowed his head. He produced a scroll from inside his coat pocket and offered it to Crow. “My lord.”

Crow took the paper from him but did not open it. “Your name?”

“Roulant,” he replied quickly.

“You’ve ridden far.”

“Six days.”

It was perhaps a seven- or eight-day ride to the Elders’ Consul temple, and the ride itself was not an easy one. Northlands was mountainous, rocky roads, and deep snow; hard and brutal land, almost as hard and brutal as the men and women who called it home. Given this rider had done it in six days meant there was urgency. “You rode alone?”

“Yes, my lord. Four riders sent to the four quarters.”

The Great Kingdoms had long ago been divided into four quarters. North, of mountains and snow. West, of oceans and rivers. East, of jungles and forests, and South of desert sands and dunes. At its centre, was the Aequi Kentron; a huge moated temple of sorts, where the Elders’ Consul presides, upholding the law of the four lands and keeping score.

Formed a thousand years ago after the Great War, nine high priests protected the ancient ways and traditions, ensuring laws remained unbroken and territory borders intact. They overlooked the trade between kingdoms and ensured fairness at every turn, and the last thousand years had been peaceful and prosperous.

Steeped in history and tradition, and by definition the equal centre, Aequi Kentron was the heart of all four kingdoms.

Each of the four rulers was chosen at birth by the birthmark on their wrist. They would each rule their lands independently and in their own right, with their own laws and governance, yet there were some laws they could not ignore.

The law that stated when each ruler was beckoned, they would come.

The law was written when the Consul was established, that when the Brother Sun and the two Sister Moons aligned at the equinox, they would partake in the Festival of the Eclipse. They would abide with honour and with the dignity of the rank they held.

Crow was proud of his title, proud of his people, and he would lay his life down for his kingdom. And he should have been proud to be the chosen one in the time of the eclipse. Once every thousand years and it happened in his lifetime, his rule. Yet destiny was a weight like no other, and unease filled his belly for reasons he couldn’t put name to. The fact his birthmark now caused him pain was one he couldn’t ignore, and now with the news from Aequi Kentron, it could only mean one thing.

His time was now.

Realisation skittered down Crow’s spine like a cold spider. So, it was time. Every arrow of his life was pointed to this. He gave a reluctant nod and turned to the guard. “See this man to hot food and warm quarters, and see that his horse is tended to.”

Roulant’s gaze shot up to Crow’s. “My lord, I am thankful.”

“As am I.” Crow gave him a smile. “Eat and rest as you need.”

Roulant gave another nod of gratitude, and he was escorted out by the guard. Soko waited patiently as Crow held the scroll. There was a wax seal atop the Consul’s writing in old calligraphy ink.

King of Northlands

Crow slid his finger beneath the seal and unrolled the thick paper. At the centre top was the Consul’s four-pointed compass rose stamped in blue ink. The writing was impeccably neat, the strokes delivered with such importance not even the ink dared to bleed.

Your Royal Highness, King Crow of Northlands,

The Eclipse befalls on the Equinox in your twenty-fifth year.

Your attendance is formally requested at the Aequi Kentron one week before the Equinox, for the festival of the Golden Age.

We eagerly await your arrival.

Crow read it again, then handed it to Soko who read it, frowning. “What does this mean?”

Crow stared out the window at the snow-covered valley below, at how the blackened rocky crags tore raggedly through the serene whiteness looking like open claw marks in flesh.

“I ride for Aequi Kentron in two days,” Crow replied.

Soko’s eyes hardened. “You will not ride alone.”

Crow almost smiled at that. “I didn’t think I would.”

“And the eclipse?”

“A golden sun for a golden age,” he replied with a sigh, turning back to stare out the window. “My birthright is finally upon me.”

Soko’s voice was quiet, as though he dreaded to hear what he already knew. “What will you do?”

Crow took a long moment to answer. Was it fear or dread? Acceptance or resignation? “My choice in this was long ago removed,” he murmured, finally meeting Soko’s eyes. “I will attend their festival, and when all the fanfare and nonsense is done, I will return as if nothing has occurred.”

“It’s supposed to be a celebration,” Soko replied. “Yet it hangs over you like a dark cloud.”

Crow sighed. He would have quite happily been left alone for all his days, but this felt different. This felt ominous and he couldn’t explain why. “True metal does not fear the furnace,” he murmured.

It was a favoured Northlands saying, cited by the miners who dug ore from frozen mountains and by the blacksmiths who turned it into steel.

Yet Crow feared . . . something. He feared this festival and ceremony; he feared the change he felt would rise with the golden sun. He feared the unknown.

And he feared the greasy dread in his belly and the burn on his wrist that told him his life was about to change forever.

I don’t understand how NR Walker switches tropes so seamlessly. I mean, sure, she writes contemporary romances often. A couple of rom coms that are laugh out loud funny. BUT she also writes about fated mates- who are angels. Vampires. Ancient Rome. Oh, and androids. No big whoop. So let’s now create an entire world of fated Kings and Queens and a double moon solar eclipse, a fated pair and creatures from another world. Why not?

And so we find ourselves in an unknown mythological world broken into four kingdoms- conveniently North, South, East and West- as well as a central body that governs over the four. Word arrives that the three kings and one queen are to meet because of the upcoming eclipse. But there is evil waiting.

The world building in the story is just magical. No pun intended. You’ll see. The kings and queen, their different lands, the elders…NR Walker paints a picture with her words so that you can completely see the different lands in your head.

Besides that, how everything is connected, how far back it all went, how they slowly started figuring it all out. It was just so cool.

Central to this complex and intriguing story is the fated connection between two of the kings- Crow and Tancho. It was a slow burn but still left me a bit unsatisfied just because they were in the middle of a veritable war for most of the book and didn’t get to enjoy each other until the very end. Or each least enjoy each other without looking over their shoulders or worrying about what was coming next.

BUT I really enjoyed how their connection manifested over the entire story. Including their birthmarks.

This book is definitely not cookie cutter. It is fresh and unique and really enjoyable. If you were a fan of Game of Thrones (I never watched, full disclosure) or other fantasy/mythological type stories, you will really enjoy this.

4 pieces of eye candy

N.R. Walker is an Australian author, who loves her genre of gay romance. She loves writing and spends far too much time doing it, but wouldn’t have it any other way.

She is many things: a mother, a wife, a sister, a writer. She has pretty, pretty boys who live in her head, who don’t let her sleep at night unless she gives them life with words.

She likes it when they do dirty, dirty things… but likes it even more when they fall in love.

She used to think having people in her head talking to her was weird, until one day she happened across other writers who told her it was normal.

She’s been writing ever since…

Keep up with everything NR Walker here: https://smart.bio/nrwalkerauthor/