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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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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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Flirting with Fire by Grace Kilian Delaney: New Release Blitz, Excerpt and Giveaway

October 23, 2020 by Denise

A stuntman with a love for fire.

A yoga teacher in search of zen.

A holiday season neither will forget.

Stunt performer and self-declared badass, Tate Astbury returns to his hometown to spend another dreaded Thanksgiving with his dad. But his father forgets and makes other plans, resigning Tate to a quiet and depressing holiday alone unless he can find someplace else to celebrate.

When Tate’s mischievous friend learns about the unfortunate twist, he dares Tate to enter a radio contest to become a fake boyfriend for a desperate caller’s holiday dinner, and Tate never turns down a dare.

Endre Michel is a mess. His yoga business is on the cusp of ruin, and his moms are visiting from out of state for the holiday, intent on meeting his boyfriend, a person Endre invented. Through the contest, he meets Tate, a crude, tattooed older man who plays the role of doting boyfriend so well, Endre suspects and hopes it’s not all for show.

Neither man can deny the unintended connection, and they struggle to overcome the distance between Tate’s put-together Hollywood career and the chaos surrounding Endre’s unsteady future—a situation that intensifies when an unthinkable tragedy uncovers a dark and painful truth.

Will Tate and Endre’s future together perish in flames, or can their love rise from the ashes?

Flirting with Fire is a standalone holiday romance with several cups of angst, questionable jokes, a bird with a wicked sense of humor, a bed with loud, squeaky springs, and an HFN/HEA ending.

Flirting with Fire by Grace Kilian Delaney

A Shore Thing Novel, Book 3

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TATE

Brown leaves crunched as Tate Astbury walked to the granite headstone symbolizing the division of his life into two parts: Before and After. Winter lingered in the air; that clean, cold scent seeped into his bones, bringing back childhood days in New England with family celebrations and weeks that carelessly slipped by into spring then summer.

That was Before. Before the guilt festered. Before he saw two people in the mirror instead of one. Before he took the one person who meant everything to him for granted.

Tate approached the headstone with the name he learned to spell at the same time as his own, the date of birth he shared, and the date of death he didn’t. He plucke

d off the dried leaves and twigs that had fallen on the plaque and put a single white rose down.

“Never thought I’d make it past thirty, yet here I am, thirty-three years old. All the dumb shit I’ve done since you…since I last saw you, you would think I’d be the one interred.” He should’ve been. They had done everything together. Death shouldn’t have been any different.

Tate squinted, staring across the field of headstones to where a couple stood holding hands in front of a grave.

“It’s gotten easier. Like, some days, I don’t think about you or what happened right away.” Until he looked in the mirror. Then he saw the irreplaceable soul whose face he would never forget, a blessing and a curse. “You’d tell me to quit being so dramatic and get on with my life. But today it’s hard, so cut me some slack, aight?”

A cardinal perched in the tree above him and whistled, its song like someone calling for its dog. And then it shit, missing Tate’s head but landing on his shoe with a splat.

“Fucker.” Tate laughed, figuring he must look like a crazy person out there laughing alone. Well, not entirely alone. There was that bird with a wicked sense of humor.

“I get it. Enough with the pity party. I’m going to celebrate with the boys later. But this one’s for you.” He unscrewed the miniature Jack Daniel’s bottle, not his favorite but his twin brother liked the brand, and poured the entire contents on the grave.

“Happy birthday, Mazi.”

Author, musician, and human slave to the dog and cat that rule her house, Grace Kilian Delaney enjoys giving her characters a dark sense of humor and a happily ever after.

Connect with Grace:
Twitter: @GracekilianD
Instagram: GraceKilianD
Facebook Group: Delaney’s Dearies
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Skythane by J. Scott Coatsworth: Blog Tour, Exclusive Excerpt, New Release Review and Giveaway

October 20, 2020 by Denise

Jameson Havercamp, a psych from a conservative religious colony, has come to Oberon—unique among the Common Worlds—in search of a rare substance called pith. He’s guided through the wilds on his quest by Xander Kinnson, a handsome, cocky skythane with a troubled past.

Neither knows that Oberon is facing imminent destruction. Even as the world starts to fall apart around them, they have no idea what’s coming—or the bond that will develop between them as they race to avert a cataclysm.

Together, they will journey to uncover the secrets of this strange and singular world, even as it takes them beyond the bounds of reality itself to discover what truly binds them.

Author Name: J. Scott Coatsworth

Publisher: Other Worlds Ink

Release Date: Saturday, October 10 2020

Genres: sci fi, wingfic, LGBTQ

LGBTQ+ Identities: gay, lesbian

Tropes: secret royalty, wingfic, portal fiction

Keywords/Categories: sci fi, science fiction, wingfic, aliens, gay, lesbian, trilogy, LGBTQ, portal, secret royalty, sci fi

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Jameson held on for dear life as Quince steered her cycle off into the fields on the right side of the road. The bike raced along about five feet above the ground, the leaves of the plants whipping his arms and face as they rushed by. They were riding up the row between two tall stands of what looked like boxcorn, the plants heavy with square ears of the industrial vegetable.

He glanced back. Xander’s bike zoomed down the open road, racing off in an entirely different direction. “He’s a sitting duck on the road,” he said to Quince, shouting over the sound of the engine and the wind, jabbing his finger in Xander’s general direction. Though why that should bother him was beyond him. The man was a prick.

“He can take care of himself,” Quince shouted back. “Right now I have to worry about your ass.”

He looked down at the ground moving past—they weren’t going too fast yet. He could jump off the bike and run into the field. With any luck, he’d be able to lose himself among the corn plants and maybe find his way back to Oberon City, or maybe flag down the hoversport.

Behind them, one of those hoversports had risen off the ground and was following them doggedly. He prepared to jump, but then Quince poured on the speed, and his moment was gone.

He’d have to wait for a better chance. “And what about you?” he shouted. “Who’s watching your ass?” He glanced backward worriedly at the hoversport that was coming after them. It was quickly gaining ground.

“I’m not worried about me.”

As he watched the hoversport, it fired off a shot that burned away a half a dozen boxcorn plants to their left. “Holy crap. They’re trying to kill us.” He shuddered. There was no way he was bailing on the hoverbike now.

“Not if I can help it.” She turned halfway around, holding a pulse rifle, and got off a shot in the general direction of the hoversport. It evaded the blast easily.

The bike, however, veered slightly, sending a sickening shudder through Jameson’s stomach and taking a chunk out of the neat and even row of boxcorn.

“Give it to me.” He was not going to be killed in some stupid accident in a field in the middle of nowhere.

“Do you know how to use it?” The hoversport was almost on top of them now, and Jameson imagined he could see the pilot glaring at him from behind the dark plas window.

“Yes, I learned how to use one on my last posting on a mining colony. Sunday afternoon entertainment. Now give it to me.”

She nodded and handed the pulse rifle back to him. He grasped it and slipped his right hand around the grip.

With one hand around Quince’s waist, he turned and got off a quick shot. He winged the hoversport but it seemed to shrug off the blast.

“It’s shielded,” she said. “You have to hit it when the pulse laser fires.”

“Pulse laser?” He looked back at the approaching hoversport. Something that looked disturbingly like a gun turret was descending from the underside of the hoversport. “You’re kidding me.” He turned back to Quince. “They’re going to shoot us!”

“Hold on.”

He held on to her as best he could with his arm encumbered by the rifle. She veered through one of the rows of corn, the leaves slapping at them as if trying to pull them off the bike. There was a thunderous blast behind them as several of the corn plants seemed to spontaneously burst into flame.

“Hit ’em now!” Quince called back.

He turned and fired at the hoversport, but he was too slow. The pulse bounced off the shields harmlessly.

“They’re trying to kill us,” he said incredulously. “Oh my God, they’re trying to kill me.” He started shaking uncontrollably. “Why would they want to kill me?”

“Pull it together, Jameson,” Quince said. “I’d slap you if I could, but you’re going to have to do it yourself.”

Jameson’s gut twisted. No one had ever actively tried to kill him before. His parents were pacifist Christianists, so even his home life had been calm and quiet. Mostly.

“Hold on again, and get ready to fire.”

Jameson took a deep breath and steeled himself. There would be time enough to freak out later, if they got through this alive. He gripped Quince’s waist tightly with his left hand and turned just as the gun mount pulled back to deliver another laser pulse. He shot two blasts at the hoversport as Quince veered again, this time to the left. He glanced back to see one of them connect with the turret.

A blue lightning bolt spread out like a spiderweb, a hair-thin tracery spreading across the belly of the hoversport. Electricity raced around the top of the ship, sizzling in the afternoon air. Then it split the hoversport apart like an egg, the whole thing exploding and showering debris across the sky.

Little bits of burnt plas hit his back, and then the remnants of the hoversport were behind them as the cycle sped away.

“I did it.” He started to laugh, flushed with adrenaline. “I fucking did it!” He never cursed—well, hardly ever—but the force of the moment overrode his normal composure.

“Congratulations,” Quince said dryly.

Then the import of what he had done hit him. He’d taken a human life. Probably several. The sickness in his gut returned in force. “Stop the bike.”

“We should keep going,” Quince said. “There may be more of them coming.”

“Stop the goddamned bike!” He was going to lose it.

Quince braked to a halt, settling to the ground roughly and kicking up a cloud of dust.

He jumped off and fell to the ground, throwing up violently, expelling the contents of his stomach on the damp ground. It went on for what seemed like an eternity, and his world was reduced to the cramp in his gut and the vile taste in his mouth.

He felt soiled, dirty. Reduced to an animal state.

Eventually there was nothing left to come out, and he lay on his side, his breaths heaving in and out of his chest.

Quince put a hand on his back. “First time?”

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet for fear he would kick off another bout of vomiting. His mouth tasted foul.

His back chose that moment to start itching, and such a mundane reaction made him laugh harshly. He sat up and took a deep breath.

Quince knelt beside him. “I remember my first time too. Hardest thing I ever did, even if the bastard deserved it.”

Jameson looked up at her, searching her eyes. “You killed someone?”

She nodded. “It was shortly after I arrived in Oberon City. I was walking through the Slander—I didn’t know any better back then. A man assaulted me, probably wanted to swipe my crits. I would’ve let him, if I’d had any, but then he wanted more. I was all alone, but I wasn’t helpless.” Her eyes took on a faraway look. “I broke his neck.”

He looked up at her with newfound respect. “It didn’t bother you?”

She snorted. “I was sick to my stomach, like you were. Then I went home and cried about it for three days.”

“But you got over it?” He’d counseled people before with difficult issues, and he had always told them that it took time to heal their wounds. Now he was starting to wonder if he had been a total idiot. This didn’t feel like something that would just go away, no matter how much time passed.

Quince thought about it. “Mostly. I hope to, one day.” She stood. “It’s good that it hurts, though. It means you’re still human.” She offered her hand.

“I guess that’s something.” He took her hand and stood up, wiping off his mouth with the back of his arm. “Let’s go.”

“Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’m going to get.” How did OberCorp track us down?

He hopped back on the cycle behind her, and they took off toward the line of trees in the distance.

The first thing to say about this book was that the author clearly has a talent for sci-fi fantasy world building. The world, the magic, and the explanation about how the planet is divided is very well done.

The characters were a little confusing. Two men and their guardian who had been a nanny to one of them when he was a baby, plus a huge ensemble of secondary characters typical in a high fantasy book that would have worked if it had been about 30,000 words longer.

As it was the personal relationships were hurried, confusing, and never really meshed. A lot of page time was given to the guardian/nanny character including her own point of view which would have been okay in a longer book, but took time away from developing the main characters in this. Ultimately neither of the two men get enough emotional development even if this isn’t a romance they still need fleshing out as whole characters.

I never felt I truly knew either of them.

And be warned there is a relationship cliffhanger at the end.

3 stars

Scott lives with his husband Mark in a yellow bungalow in Sacramento. He was indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine. He devoured her library, but as he grew up, he wondered where all the people like him were.

He decided that if there weren’t queer characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.

A Rainbow Award winning author, he runs Queer Sci Fi, QueeRomance Ink, and Other Worlds Ink with Mark, sites that celebrate fiction reflecting queer reality, and is a full member member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA).

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

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworth

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

Author Twitter: https://www.jscottcoatsworth.com/jscoatsworth

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jscottcoatsworth/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8392709.J_Scott_Coatsworth?from_search=true

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/

Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/J.-Scott-Coatsworth/e/B011AFO4OQ

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The Sex Coach by Garrett Leigh: Blog Tour, New Release Book Review and Giveaway

October 14, 2020 by Denise

The teacher and the student. The stable hand and the single dad. First times and friendship turn to love.

Toby
There’s nothing attractive about a twenty-four year old virgin, especially not one who blushes every time a hot dude looks his way. But I can’t help the heat that ripples through me every time I see Cole Maguire. And the clench of my heart when I realise how unhappy he is. He’s a city boy with a baby on his hip—we have nothing in common—but if he can teach me how to own my sexuality, perhaps I can teach him he’s worth loving.

Cole
I don’t like horses. But I love my daughter, and there’s nothing I won’t do for her, including leaving the city for life on a farm. I’m ready for that, but I’m not ready for blushing stable hands who make my heart race and my blood run hot. Toby has no idea how beautiful he is. I can teach him that, if he can handle the heat, but after one night with him…damn.

Maybe it’s me that has a lot to learn.

The Sex Coach is an MM summer romance with first times, a virgin stable hand, a single dad pilates teacher, and guaranteed happy ending.

Cover Design: Black Jazz Design

Length: 61,000 words approx.

Amazon – Kindle Unlimited

Terrible title. Sorry, but it is.

One of the things I really liked about this book is that we are back on the farm where we met and fell in love with so many couples. Joe and Harry, Rhys and Jevon, Angelo and Dylan… But you also can completely read this book as a stand alone.

Toby is adorable. Being that he started at the farm as a teen, he is still viewed as a kid by most of the men. Which is kind of infuriating for him. And even though he held an inrequited torch for his boss Joe, he has only dated women.

Cole gets hired at the farm to take over/fill in/help out with Angelo’s pilates classes. A single father who has partial custody of his infant daughter, he is kind of at a cross roads in his life. But he notices Toby and Toby notices him. Toby who doesn’t know how to approach a man, let alone what to do, and Cole who feels like he will always be alone because he has a daughter.

Ahh but there are some sparks between the two. So Cole is acting as Toby’s “sex coach” (I still say it is a terrible title), which of course leads to FEELINGS by both that they both refuse to admit.

Toby is still adorable. With Cole, with the guys on the farm, with the animals, with Cole’s daughter. ADORABLE.

Cole, though. I don’t know. He definitely has some mental health issues. Depression, anxiety. And those problems are never addressed. They don’t just go away because you have a boyfriend. I was actually really disappointed that his major mood swings were written off as “that is just how Cole is. a cranky bastard” or similar. No, the guy is obviously depressed, and has anxiety that gives him insomnia, etc.

ESPECIALLY since he is written as this hippie kind of guy. Yoga, pilates, essential oils, barefoot toes in the grass kind of guy.

So I did really like them together, I just wish Cole got his act together more. Because Toby deserves it.

Because of Cole’s unresolved and completely ignored issues, I have to say that this was my least favorite of all of Garrett Leigh‘s books. Even so, it is worth a read, even if it is just to catch up with some of our favorite guys.

3.5 pieces of eye candy

Garrett Leigh is an award-winning British writer and book designer.

Garrett’s debut novel, Slide, won Best Bisexual Debut at the 2014 Rainbow Book Awards, and her polyamorous novel, Misfits was a finalist in the 2016 LAMBDA awards.

When not writing, Garrett can generally be found procrastinating on Twitter, cooking up a storm, or sitting on her behind doing as little as possible, all the while shouting at her menagerie of children and animals and attempting to tame her unruly and wonderful FOX.

Garrett is also an award winning cover artist, taking the silver medal at the Benjamin Franklin Book Awards in 2016. She designs for various publishing houses and independent authors at blackjazzdesign.com, and co-owns the specialist stock site moonstockphotography.com with renowned LGBTQA+ photographer Dan Burgess.

Website: http://www.garrettleigh.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/garrettleighauthor/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Garrett_Leigh

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Hide to Seek (London Lies 2) by C F White: RDB, Excerpt, New Release Review and Giveaway

October 6, 2020 by Denise

Jackson Young has gone into hiding. Fighting to get his name cleared and his truth heard, he’s followed Fletcher Doherty to Ireland for a safe haven from those who want to silence his story.

As they work on Jackson’s biography, their growing attraction gets harder resist. Fletcher’s made it clear though—their professional boundary isn’t to be crossed, especially with so many loose threads from each of their pasts left hanging.

But as he learns more about the once coveted celebrity’s rise to fame, and the manipulation and control that came with it, Fletcher finds it increasingly difficult to distance himself from their intimate moments. Lust fuelled attraction is easy to ignore, but an emotional connection is harder to deny.

Surrounded by Fletcher’s meddling family, and ex boyfriends who still harbour feelings of being jilted, Jackson has to play the part of his lifetime. Can he prove that he does have talent and win Fletcher’s heart as well as his trust?

And can he do it all before their idyllic hideaway is compromised?

Hide to Seek is the second book in the London Lies trilogy and is a slow burn, hurt/comfort, romantic suspense series.

Book Title: Hide to Seek (London Lies 2)

Author and Publisher: C F White

Cover Artist: Ethereal Designs

Release Date: September 30, 2020

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romantic Suspense

Trope/s: Enemies to lovers, slow burn

Themes: Hurt/Comfort

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 76 000 words/ 318 pages

It is not a standalone story.

Goodreads

Amazon US – Kindle Unlimited

Amazon UK – Kindle Unlimited

Jackson joined him at the edge of the boat as the land disappeared into the murky water that sloshed up against the stern. He didn’t say anything. Neither did Fletcher. Their silence wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t comfortable either. It was a shared moment of reflection. Of knowing this could be the only peace they might have in a long while. A three-hour ferry ride from Holyhead to Dublin on international waters meant they couldn’t be found yet. They’d managed to get through ID control without any real problems. For how many times Fletcher had done this journey, he knew the ferry border control wasn’t as meticulous in checking details as the airlines would be. It was why across water was the only way. And they needed to breathe in this sanctuary while they still could. Fletcher wasn’t sure what awaited them in Ireland. He had apprehensions about going home, about bringing Jackson Young and all that came with him, to his family. But where else could they go?

So they shared a silent agreement to just stand, stare and be.

Until Jackson broke it with an intrepid inhale and a twist of his body to face him. “We should talk,” he said through the gust of howling wind.

“Should we?” Fletcher kept his gaze forward. Or backward as it were.

“This thing.” Jackson flapped a hand between them, his fingertips brushing Fletcher’s arm. “Us. We should probably acknowledge it.”

Fletcher breathed in, his chest rising, and slapped the railing to stand straighter. He closed his eyes, then opened them but kept his gaze on the distant horizon and not on the man beside him who was conjuring up feelings he didn’t want to concede to. Not then. Not when there was so much else left to learn between them.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Jackson slid his hand onto Fletcher’s cheek, demanding he look at him. A hand that stayed there a moment too long, with blue eyes delving into his soul and a soft thumb brushing along his yearning lips.

“You do, do ye?”

Jackson removed his hand and Fletcher’s cheek tinged with the heat left behind, but the flecks of ice cold seawater carried up by fierce winds slapped his skin and soon wiped the warmth away.

“You think this is too complicated to deal with now. That we need to focus on the book. On ourselves. On hiding. That’s why you left me down there, isn’t it? You can’t face me.”

“What did you think? This would be a romantic mini break?”

“I think we need to acknowledge there’s something going on. We can’t ignore it. I spent my life ignoring what was in front of me and look what happened.” Jackson threw his hands in the air, indicating their current situation.

“I’m not ignoring you, Jax. There’s no time for us. You want this truth out, then we’re gonna have to prioritise.”

Jackson hung his head, the disappointment and hurt seeping off his deflating body. But Fletcher couldn’t do this. He couldn’t rebound so quickly again. Time after time he’d done that, and each time had hurt worse than before to the point he couldn’t trust his feelings anymore. Nor could he trust that Jackson wasn’t clinging onto anything that would save him. How could this be real? How could either of them think that this could be something?

“I can be friends.” Fletcher made a concerted effort to keep his voice low, neutral, soothing. “Neither of us are ready for romance.”

Jackson breathed through a smile. “Are you an old romantic, Mr Doherty?”

“Aye. I am.” Fletcher wrapped his jacket around him, arms folding. It was to stave off the blustering wind chill but also, maybe, to act as the physical barrier to coincide with the one he built up with every wretched word he spoke. “I don’t jump into bed at the first sign of attraction. So when I said, let’s see what happens, I meant it.” He sniffed as the ferry dipped and swayed, aiming for the open arms of Dublin port. “But first things first, we have to get you off this ferry as Cameron Dale.”

This is a new to me author. Book 2 was up for review, but they sent book 1 as well because it is absolutely necessary. It is a continuing story.

Book 1, Fade to Blank, sets up the relationshp between Jackson and Fletcher.

Jackson, Jax to his fans, was half of a super popular celebrity personality couple. Not a couple as in love, a couple like Regis and Kelly. Until his live in girlfriend is murdered and he is in jail awaiting trial.

Fletcher is a celebrity gossip columnist. He doesn’t particularly like his job, he wants to be a real writer, but this helps pay the bills. He did review opening night of a play that Jackson was in- and totally panned it. Jackson never forgot.

Jackson is released after 6 months because the prosecutor can’t come up with enough evidence. He wants to clear his name, so he tracks down Fletcher to do it. To do what, exactly? Write Jackson’s autobiography.

One of many head scratching moments.

Jackson is in hiding though because he is hated. People think he killed his girlfriend. It LOOKS like he killed his girlfriend. And no one is standing by his side. Especially not his former co-star.

Book 1 is spent with Jackson hiding, Fletcher trailing behind him trying to keep up while carrying his laptop waiting for Jackson to start telling his story. Which he keeps putting off. Or avoiding things. Uh, if you want your biography written, perhaps you should start telling the story?

There is also a bit of a side story with Fletcher and his live in, older, actor boyfriend. Seems to me that Fletcher is obviously arm candy, but he doesn’t get it.

Book 2: Hide to Seek

Jackson and Fletcher flee to Fletcher’s family’s farm in Ireland. Having been found out, it seemed the safest place to hide. So we have some new players- Fletcher’s parents, sisters, a brother in law and nephews and most importantly, Fletcher’s childhood best friend and teenage lover.

So besides still trying to drag Jackson’s story out of him (I still don’t see the purpose of this), he is also dealing with his family’s financial issues, a former flame who wants him back and powerful people looking for Jackson. Because now there is speculation of a human/child trafficking ring. WHAT???

More than once Fletcher says “forget it, I am not doing this book”. But sticks around. Apparently sparks were flying between them. I didn’t see it. Because they have ZERO chemistry. Both Jackson and Fletcher are wet noodles. And my god Fletcher says “feck” a lot.

Book 3 is out in December to conclude this story. I honestly don’t know if I will read it. Maybe if my schedule isn’t too full. I just don’t care about them. The human trafficking thing is completely convoluted, who really killed Jackson’s girlfriend is kind of on the backburner and now they are sleeping together and nearly in love? Sorry, nah.

3 pieces of eye candy

Brought up in a relatively small town in Hertfordshire, C F White managed to do what most other residents try to do and fail—leave.

Studying at a West London university, she realised there was a whole city out there waiting to be discovered, so, much like Dick Whittington before her, she never made it back home and still endlessly search for the streets paved with gold, slowly coming to the realisation they’re mostly paved with chewing gum. And the odd bit of graffiti. And those little circles of yellow spray paint where the council point out the pot holes to someone who is supposedly meant to fix them instead of staring at them vacantly whilst holding a polystyrene cup of watered-down coffee.

She eventually moved West to East along that vast District Line and settled for pie and mash, cockles and winkles and a bit of Knees Up Mother Brown to live in the East End of London; securing a job and creating a life, a home and a family.

After her second son was born with a rare disability, C F White’s life changed and brought pen back to paper having written stories as a child but never the confidence to show them to the world. Now, having embarked on this writing journey, she can’t stop. So strap in, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.

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