Giveaways

To Whom It May Concern (For Him, Book 3.5) by A.M. Johnson: RB, Excerpt, Release Day Review and Giveaway

February 21, 2022 by Denise

To whom it may concern,

I can’t be sure what you’re into, that being said, if you like sexy and sweet romance with a whole lot of quirk, keep reading…

Ever since Clay Saxon’s parents passed away a year ago, he’s been stuck in a rut, running their business, and suffering from the worst writer’s block ever. But when Syrus Albie, aka yellow sweater guy, (you’ll see) walks into The End Book Store, Clay’s mundane little world turns to sunshine.

I don’t want to ruin it, but I can definitely say, when an introverted as hell narrator finally meets his favorite author and crush, all of his usual protocols go up in flames.

Set in the For Him World, this standalone is the perfect introduction or addition to this steamy MM collection.

Sincerely yours, A.M. JOHNSON

To Whom It May Concern (For Him, Book 3.5)

By A.M. Johnson

Amazon – Kindle Unlimited

Goodreads

It was noon when he walked into the bookstore wearing a yellow sweater and pale blue jeans. The yellow, not quite yellow, more mustard than canary, stood out against the muted colors of the book spines stacked against each other on the shelf. A shock of dark brown hair fell over his brow as he dipped his head, kneeling to get a closer look at something on one of the lower shelves. His long legs folded neatly beneath his trim waist, his broad back facing me, I most certainly checked out his ass. He was fit, built more like a runner and less like a tank. And from my first glance, I thought he had a nice face. Handsome with a short, trimmed beard, and a strong profile. I wanted to ask him if he needed any help, but something in the way he held himself, eyes down, shoulders tight, told me he didn’t want to be bothered. I’d been working at The End, my parents’ bookshop, long enough I’d learned how to read people. Hell, I’d worked here ever since my folks had deemed it safe for me to climb the ladders on the stacks. I wouldn’t have ever considered my parents the cautious type, they’d allowed me to cook my own pancakes at the age of six, but apparently climbing a ladder had been too perilous for anyone under the age of ten.

“Do you have this in paperback?” A pimply teen pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and set down a copy of The Street Vendor’s Son, blocking my view of the yellow sweater guy.

Sighing, I leaned an elbow on the counter and shook my head. “The paperback hasn’t been released yet.”

“I heard on Reddit that Wilder Welles hid a bunch of copies throughout the city.” He stared up at me with a superior look on his face.

I’d heard the same rumor, but I didn’t have the heart to tell the kid it wasn’t true. I actually knew Wilder, the author of said book. I was represented by the same literary agency, Lowe Literary, and had met him through our mutual publisher, Bartley Press, at a Christmas party a couple of years ago.

“Maybe try Book on Main?” I suggested and he nodded, his hazy blue eyes widening. I imagined he was plotting out his next move. “I’d hurry though. I heard yesterday there were only a total of three.”

“Three,” he hissed. “Dammit.”

He turned for the door and left without a thank you. Maybe I should have broken his heart. Laughing to myself, I picked up the book and placed it under the counter next to the small pile I planned to reshelve when we closed in an hour. Distracted, I didn’t realize the cute yellow sweater guy had approached the counter. He cleared his throat, keeping his quiet gaze pointed at his feet.

“Hey, man,” I said, smiling in what I hoped was my best flirty, easygoing, no-I- wasn’t-staring-at-your-ass-earlier smile. “Did you find everything okay?”

He cleared his throat again, setting two books down in front of me. “I’d like to purchase these.” Though unsure, his voice was the perfect harmony of smooth and low. It settled in my stomach, warm and heavy. “No bag, please. I prefer to carry them.”

“Yeah… sure.” I picked up the titles, both nonfiction reads on shipwrecks, and rang them up. “Are you a fan of Jack and Rose?” I teased and his shoulders stiffened.

“What?” he asked, and I couldn’t tell if he was confused or aggravated.

He raised his gaze, revealing in short blinks, bursts of green and amber. I’d never seen eyes like his. Hazel, but more. Shiny, but shy. I struggled to remember what the hell I’d said in the first place.

“Um… uh…” I smiled, rubbing at the back of my sweaty neck. When he didn’t smile in return, I scratched my head, looking down at the shipwreck books, and it came back to me. “Titanic. Jack and Rose? I’m the king of the world.” I held out both of my arms like an idiot. Who knew I had such a thing for yellow sweaters?

He blinked again, his throat working as he stared at me. “I haven’t seen it.”

I didn’t waste too much time thinking about how that was possible, and told myself not everyone was into overly produced blockbuster movies. “It’s not the greatest film of all time or anything, but if you’re a shipwreck kind of guy, it would be right up your alley.”

“I’m not a shipwreck kind of guy,” he said, his cheeks ruddy as he handed me his credit card. “This is research.”

I swiped it through the card reader and let the three words hang in the air, hoping he’d elaborate. He didn’t. He didn’t seem much older than my twenty-three, but I was a shit gauge when it came to age. He couldn’t be over thirty, though, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t in college. Or maybe he was a scientist? A sexy, sweater-wearing nerdy chemist or botanist, or something equally intelligent.

“Cool.” I slid his receipt across the top of the counter along with his credit card. “Are you a scientist?”

“What?” He grumbled as he picked up his card and slipped it into his wallet. “No? Why?”

“Research? I figured…”

“That I was a scientist? Lots of people do research for their work. Actors… I could be an author, or a professor, or a… ship maker. Among many other options.” He didn’t sound rude, per se, but definitely annoyed. “A treasure hunter.”

“Now that sounds like fun.” I tried a smirk this time and his entire face flushed.

“I can’t say I agree.” He scooped up his books and tucked them under his arm. “It’s dangerous, for one, and stealing history seems unethical.” I wanted him to keep talking. Honestly, I could listen to him talk for hours. His voice was like a balm, even if he was kind of an asshole. “And there’s no guarantee you’ll ever find what you’re looking for. Seems like a waste of time.”

“But if you do find what you’re looking for, what then?” I asked.

He’d avoided direct eye contact until that very second, and holy shit, my lungs forgot how to work.

Air out, air in. Or was it air in and then air out.

Shit.

“It has been my experience that life is only a game of mishaps and unexpected coincidences,” he said, and I laughed.

“You just quoted my book.”

“Your book?”

“Yeah… The Branches Between Us,” I said, feeling a puff of pride as I exhaled, remembering how to breathe after all.

His throat bobbed again, his face paling as he took a step backward. “Your book. I didn’t realize you were—”

“I’m flattered.” I leaned both elbows on the counter. “Not a lot of people liked… or read that book.”

“I enjoyed it immensely,” he said but not in a starry-eyed, starstruck way. He was matter of fact in the delivery, and even more so when he continued. “I’ve read it ten times.”

“Wow.” My grin pinched at my cheeks. “Ten times.”

The air snapped in the brief silence that descended. I stole a few seconds to unabashedly stare at him while he glared at the floor. His thin nose twitched, and I noticed his upper lip was fuller than his bottom. A subtle crease sat between his thick brows, and it deepened when he scowled.

“I need to go,” he said, tacking on a curt, “Thank you,” before he turned to leave.

I watched him exit the store, bewildered and a bit shocked.

Okay, after I read this novella, I went and looked the author and the series up. I had never read either before. I have every intention of rectifying that. 🙂 I really enjoyed this, and after getting a tiny glimpse of other characters in the series, I’m looking forward to going back and checking it all out.

To Whom It May Concern has to be one of the sweetest books, with a super introvert. Myself being married to an introvert who has so many of the same characteristics, I can see how challenging it would be for Syrus to find love. Putting himself in a situation where he could be embarrassed, or seen in any negative light is one of the most terrifying things extreme introverts can go through. This author portrayed that so well. Syrus’ expressions about how much he loved Clay’s book were 100% on the mark. His logic said he loved it, so why would someone else, even the author NOT love it.

Meanwhile Clay, who is still grieving for his parents, running the store they loved, even as he knew his mother would have wanted him to keep writing had to find little ways to stay within Syrus’ orbit. Their communication via email in regards to Clay’s book, which Syrus wants to narrate is cute and sweet, and oh so flirty. Clay really just didn’t let Syrus get away. He had to make a little more of the effort to win some time with Syrus, even if it meant just saying he wanted a date, even when Syrus couldn’t fathom that. So sweet!

There wasn’t a need for there to be grand gestures, and in fact, with such an introvert as a couple there could not be, but just a sweet story about two people finding each other, and a little more of themselves.

4 pieces of eye candy

Amanda is an award winning and best selling author of LGBTQIA and contemporary romance and fiction. She lives in Utah with her family where she moonlights as a nurse on the weekends and hikes in the mountains as much as possible.

If she’s not busy with her three munchkins, you’ll find her buried in a book or behind the keyboard where she explores the human experience through the written word, exploring all spectrums and genres.

She’s obsessed with all things Hockey, Austen, and Oreos, and loves to connect with readers!

Stay up to date by signing up for her newsletter here: http://bit.ly/NewsLetterAMJBooks

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The Ballot Boy by Larry Mellman: Release Blitz, Excerpt, and Giveaway

February 20, 2022 by Denise

Venice, 1368.

War hovers in the wings with the fate of the Republic at stake when the old doge dies. Fourteen-year-old Nico, a street urchin from the poorest Venetian parish, is chosen at random to tally votes in the upcoming election for a new leader. Uprooted from his old life and transplanted to the doge’s palace, Nico becomes an alienated outsider at the mercy of scheming nobles.

Andrea Contarini, sixtieth doge of Venice, wants the ducal throne less than Nico wants to be ballot boy. Both walk a golden tightrope over treachery and deceit. When he witnesses a court clerk burned at the stake for being gay, Nico despairs. His romantic attraction to men is as powerful as his fear of fiery death and an eternity in Hell.

Taking advantage of the fraught transition in the Doge’s Palace, the hostile duke of Austria pushes Trieste to rebel against Venetian domination, jeopardizing her mastery of the Adriatic Sea. The Venetian nobles split, trapping the doge between hawks rabid for war, and rich merchants desperate for peace. With his own life on the line, Andrea Contarini opts to attack decisively and end the crisis swiftly, but his gambit is sabotaged. Trusting only the boy at his side, Contarini sends Nico to Trieste to be his eyes and ears. As the Venetian commanders wrangle over tactics, Nico falls for Astolfo, the young, charismatic lord of Castle Moccò, an indispensable but unreliable ally.

Will Nico return to Venice a celebrated hero? Or will he be forever haunted, guilt-ridden, and still concealing his deepest secret?

Title: The Ballot Boy

Author: Larry Mellman

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 02/15/2022

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 85300

Genre: Historical, LGBTQIA+, YA, historical, lit/genre fiction, gay, coming out, 14th century Venice, political rulers, political intrigue and plotting, wartime action and adventure, sexual longing, family drama, betrayal, bullying

Amazon

NineStar Press

Goodreads

I’m running as fast as I can, but I can’t catch the thief. If I don’t, Alex’s life is over. The necklace the thief snatched from my hand gives away the game. Alex will be exposed. Locked up. Maybe even killed because Alex’s father, Francesco Barbanegra, has the temper and manners of a pirate. Alex’s family is rich. Very, very rich. Richer than most nobles. But they are common, like my family, which consists of my mother, who takes in laundry. She gets paid in pennies. I understand why she wants me to be ballot boy, but that’s her dream not mine. I don’t want to be ballot boy. I want to be me, whoever that is.

Only heartbeats ago, Alex and I had moored our boat to the wharf and staggered ashore, covered with mud. When Alex took off the necklace to give me—the gold dolphin on its golden chain, ruby eye glinting in the early light—the thief burst from the shed, yanked it from my hand, and took off like a demon down the deserted embankment.

“Go home,” I shouted to Alex over my shoulder, “before it’s too late,” and I tore after the thief.

The dolphin is fatal. If the thief tries to sell it at a Rialto pawnshop, the whole world will know. I can’t risk it.

Our feet slap on the mud, startling a flock of ducks. They flap their wings, burst up from the salt marsh, and take to the icy winter sky.

The thief is taller than most Venetians, with long spindly legs, no shoes, and a striped turban. He doesn’t look down; he doesn’t look back. He barrels down the embankment in the direction of the Customs House. My legs are a foot shorter than his, his stride worth two of mine. I suck air like I’m drowning and exhale prayers like I’m dying.

Queen of Heaven, hear my pleas. St. Nicholas, grant me thine aid.

When I manage to close the gap between us, he speeds up. No matter how fast I’m going, he goes faster. He clutches the gold chain in his fist, the dolphin dangling free, its ruby eye sparkling.

That dolphin is a pledge of brotherhood between Alex and me, the seal on our secrets, and a promise that I won’t be selected ballot boy because if I am, last night was our final meeting, maybe forever.

“Please, Nico.” Alex’s eyes had implored me, and I could never refuse. “You’ve been on the sea many times. I’m thirteen years old, and my father owns great galleys, but I’ve never seen the sea. This could be my last chance.”

“It’s not your last chance.”

“If you’re selected, it is.”

“Look at me. Do you think Ruggiero Gradenigo would pick me? I look like a muddy clown.”

“Anything can happen.”

Alex’s pleading eyes broke me every time.

Stars filled the sky, and the moon, hovering high above the mountains beyond the lagoon, sprinkled diamonds over the water. I’d been explaining the lagoon to Alex, showing off, I guess, paying no attention to the tide. I didn’t notice the moon pulling the lagoon out from under us until stranded fish danced a desperate tarantella on the exposed sandbars. A mile of mud separated us from the beacon fire atop St. Mark’s campanile. We jumped from the boat and sank up to our knees. We couldn’t walk, nor could we reach the shore until the morning tide swept back in and filled the lagoon. Alex would never get home without being discovered; I would never be in St. Mark’s Square in time for the selection, and my mother would kill me.

I breathe in, out, in, out, in, out, pushing myself harder and harder until I hit a wall and explode and pick myself up and keep going until it happens all over again. The thief took one look at the stupid costume Mama had sewn me for selection day, all torn and wet and muddy, and he must have figured me for a drunk noble, a pushover. Mama is convinced the costume will make Ruggiero Gradenigo select me. She believes in magic. Her eye is on the prize.

He’s waiting for me to collapse, this thief. He’s making a big mistake. He doesn’t know that every day since I turned eight, six years now, I row across the lagoon and back before the midmorning bells, and I will kill him if I have to.

He makes a move to outrun me on the straightaway in front of the old shipyard. We pound over rough planks, wobbly pontoons, and a muddy bog tangled with bramble. I’m glad he’s barefoot. It must hurt like hell. He can hear my sandals slapping the ground.

The buildings crowd close along the levee. The bogs and brambles disappear under wooden docks and wharves. Merchant galleys and cogs are moored all the way to the Customs House. The ground tapers to a point where the Giudecca Canal meets the Grand Canal. Keeping running and your turban floats.

He hasn’t lost me, so he squeezes between buildings with barely a foot between them, and I follow, the mortar between the bricks shredding my tunic.

The big bell at St. Mark’s, the Marangona, starts tolling to summon the Great Council to pray for God’s grace on the election of the doge. All 1,200 nobles are members of the Great Council. Their names are inscribed in the Golden Book. After Mass, Ruggiero Gradenigo, the youngest member of the Great Council, will walk out of the church, onto St. Mark’s Square, and pick the first commoner he lays eyes on, age fifteen or less, to be the ballot boy. That’s the law. The old doge is dead, and we can’t elect a new one until a ballot boy is selected at random to count the votes and make sure the nobles don’t cheat.

I squeeze out of the crawlspace and glimpse the thief’s turban disappearing down a dark lane the sun never reaches. Several lanes lead into this small square; all but one dead end at the water. He doesn’t know where he’s going and probably doesn’t care as long as he stays ahead of me. He’s as desperate as I am. My heart beats a battle tocsin.

I struggle to master my breath as Abdul taught me. I’m dog-tired from fighting the moon, the tide, the mud. Sweat floods my face. The salt burns my eyes. I wipe them with my muddy sleeve, squeeze them shut, and listen. This quarter is silent. Everyone is at St. Mark’s for the selection.

The thief’s bare feet, bloodied from running the embankment, leave a trail winding through a labyrinth that will lead him back to me. That’s how Venice is. Outsiders always go in circles, even we do occasionally outside our home parish.

The old doge died last week. He didn’t last very long; he was eighty-two when they elected him back in 1365. That’s old even for a doge. I was twelve then. Mama knew I was going to be selected his ballot boy. She’d worked it all out with the Blessed Virgin and St. Mark. She took to bed for a week when I wasn’t selected, but she never gave up. She started praying for the new doge to die before my fifteenth birthday. I heard her, every night. First, she prayed forgiveness for wanting him dead. Then, she begged heaven for him to die. Now, she believes a miracle has happened. I’m going to be ballot boy. She knows. The Virgin interceded.

If I’m not in front of St. Mark’s when Ruggiero Gradenigo selects the ballot boy, I will be dead to her. She will curse me for spoiling her miracle.

The thief backs into the little square. He doesn’t see me. He sees a glint of sun on water at the end of a narrow chasm of brick. He takes off toward the water, and I get there first, waiting, as he staggers onto the wharf. On the opposite bank, mothers and their sons clog St. Mark’s Square, tricked out like piglets at the Ascension Day fair, each one praying for the job I don’t want.

The thief ducks between the pilings of the empty ferry dock. None of the ferries, trapped on the water, can move for all the other boats. Nobody is going anywhere. Every eye will remain on the Doge’s Palace until a new doge is elected. Venice is the richest city of all; the stakes are high. Mama says anything can happen.

I charge, pin the thief against a striped pole stuck in the Grand Canal, and grab for the dolphin in his hand. But he twists free and hurls himself off the dock, crashing into a boat below. The boat rocks wildly, the passengers scream, he steadies himself. Before anyone knows what’s happening, he leaps into the next boat, and the next, and the next. As fast as he can, he bounds across St. Mark’s Basin toward the twin columns at the water’s edge framing the Doge’s Palace, St. Mark’s Church, and the greatest square in the world. Executions and burnings take place between the columns, and walking between them brings a curse upon your head, which is why we call them the Columns of Doom. I saw a murderer executed there when I was seven. They chopped off his hand first, in San Barnaba Square, where he’d killed someone, strung his hand around his neck, and rowed him back here. They hung him, quartered him, and left the pieces out to dry here between the columns.

I jump from boat to boat to boat after the thief. People squawk, but I’m out as fast as I’m in, never stopping, my eye always on his bobbing turban. He scrambles up between the columns and pushes his way toward St. Mark’s Square through the bodies packing the Piazzetta.

The church doors aren’t open yet. The thief towers above the mothers and sons, his turban threading through the Piazzetta toward the church. Arsenal men in leather armor hold the crowd back, creating some space for Ruggiero Gradenigo to come out and pick. Mothers fight for places directly in front of the church.

The big bell tolls.

Mass is finished. The crowd surges forward, a wave of anticipation silencing them. The stones beneath our feet vibrate with the wild clangor of bells.

He made a big mistake, and now he sees just how big. Bodies block him on all sides. I elbow my way through the crush as the church doors swing open. The crowd gasps. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mama desperately looking for me. She’s furious I’m not up-front and center with her.

I leapfrog a tangled knot of eight-year-olds and their mothers, grasping for the thief’s throat. He panics and hurls the dolphin over the crowd. I vault, twist, and grab the dolphin out of the air by its chain. I can’t land on my feet. I come down sideways, rolling over bodies onto the cleared pavement. The guards can’t stop me.

Larry was born in Los Angeles and educated in literature, political science, and life at the University of California, Berkeley. He has worked as a printer and journalist in Los Angeles, San Francisco, Chicago, and St. Paul, Minnesota. Larry also worked with Andy Warhol and the Velvet Underground on the Exploding Plastic Inevitable in NY, Provincetown, Los Angeles, and San Francisco, was mentored by Dean Koontz, and shared a palazzo in Venice with international opera singers Erika Sunnegårdh and Mark Doss.”

While living in Venice for many years, Larry also taught English, led tours, and immersed himself in the history and art of the Venetian Republic. The Ballot Boy was born in Venice and completed in St. Paul.

Larry is a lifelong social activist and writer, a voracious reader and researcher, an opera fanatic, and devoted walker. He currently lives in St. Paul with his partner of twenty-one years and his ex-wife of twenty-five years. His son is a pianist devoted to blues and jazz.

Author Links

Website: http://www.theballotboy.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/larry.mellman

Twitter: http://twitter.com/LarryMellman

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Doll Parts (The Game Series Book 4) by Cara Dee: RB, Excerpt and Release Day Review

February 19, 2022 by Denise

The Game Series, #4 [Standalone.]

I have the best boyfriend in the whole world, but there’s one thing I won’t tell him. It’s that I don’t believe in absolute happiness anymore. Not with the cards we’ve been dealt. I mean, come on! Why do we fall for people who don’t want us back? While he’s been pining after Lucian, one of the Masters in his kink community, I’m the lovesick monster-puppy Little who can’t forget my former stepdad KC. Or the kinky porn I once found on his computer…but that’s beside the point!

It’s complicated, to be honest. I try not to think about it. I have Cameron, and I love him so damn much. Why can’t we try to make it on our own? Why does he want us to find a Top that’s just ours? It won’t work. Our stupid hearts refuse to move on.

What’s even stupider is that Cameron insists we seek out a Dom for our relationship in the very kink community where we can find both KC and Lucian.

Ohhh crap. I think he’s got a plan.

The Game Series is a BDSM series where romance meets the reality of kink. Sometimes we fall for someone we don’t match with, sometimes vanilla business gets in the way of kinky pleasure, and sometimes we have to compromise and push ourselves to overcome trauma and insecurities. No matter what, two things are certain. This is not a perfect world, and life never turns out the way you planned.

Series: The Game Series #4 (Standalone)
Genre: Gay Romance/BDSM Romance/Daddykink Romance
Tags: #TheGameSeriesByCaraDee #WelcomeToTheFunhouse #MMMMRomance #ObjectifyMeDaddy #HowToShutUpAMaster #LightSadistsShitRightUp #ThereWillBeClowns

Amazon – Kindle Unlimited

Top Priority (The Game Series Book 1)

Their Boy (The Game Series Book 2)

Breathless (The Game Series Book 3)

I couldn’t go up there, could I?

I squinted for the sun and peered up at the pale-green–painted trendy restaurant, all three stories of it, including the rooftop terrace. It was one of those restaurants that used to be an apartment building, so you had a bunch of smaller dining areas inside.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek and wondered how the hell I hadn’t connected the dots sooner.

Fuck, it was hot. I ran a hand through my hair and looked around me. The restaurant was right on the corner of a busy intersection, and the sleepy locals on their way to brunch were sharing the sidewalk with tourists.

Maybe I should text him and call it off…

“Excuse me, are you going to the munch?”

I cocked my head to the guy to my left. He was about my age, I estimated. “What if I didn’t know what a munch was?”

He grinned, and it was hot. Hot and cute. “I would’ve said never mind and hightailed it out of here,” he replied. “But I’ve been around long enough to spot someone too nervous to join an event.”

Oh. I wasn’t nervous to join an event. My very first munch, I’d been the first to arrive.

I scratched my head. “I’m stalling because I’m pretty sure I’m barging into someone else’s territory,” I admitted. “My mom’s ex-husband is kinky too.”

The guy made a yikes-face, and I felt the need to elaborate.

“I check his Instagram sometimes, and if he posts four pictures every month, one is from this place,” I explained. “Usually with a caption like ‘Luke is teaching me to post foodporn, whatever that is’ and ‘Macklin’s eggs Benedict are a bit of a religious experience.’”

I could tell I’d mentioned names the guy recognized. I was right. This was the munch of KC’s kink community. Motherfucker. I’d seen eight pictures from this place on KC’s dusty Instagram—or parts of the place. Mostly from the rooftop terrace. Maybe that was where they hosted the munch.

“You know them, don’t you?” I pressed.

The guy smiled uncertainly and shrugged slightly. “We take integrity seriously, but…”

Yeah.

“Who’s your mother’s ex-husband?”

“KC Hayles.”

He nodded once. He’d heard that name too. Then he eyed someone else, or two someones, coming up the sidewalk. They were twins. Hot-as-shit set of twins in their forties.

One of them smirked upon seeing the guy I’d been talking to. “You hidin’, Cameron?”

I observed the guy’s reaction. Cameron. A crooked grin full of mischief lit up his face. He was really fucking cute, and I didn’t usually feel attraction toward men my age. He was a bit taller than me but not much. Blue eyes.

“Does that sound like something I would do, Sir?” Cameron countered.

Definitely a submissive.

One of the twins chuckled and ruffled Cameron’s shaggy, dirty-blond hair. “See you upstairs, boy.” He spared me the quickest of glances, lifted his brow a little, maybe in curiosity, before he and his brother took the steps up to the restaurant.

Cameron turned back to me. “It’s possible you’ve stumbled upon your stepdad’s community.”

I figured. “I’ll just reschedule with the guy I was gonna meet. Thanks for letting me know.”

It wasn’t too important I met him today anyway. It was only a bite to eat to see if I was compatible to play with him and his boyfriend.

Cameron cleared his throat. “Hey, wait. If you know KC… Does that mean you know Lucian too?”

That would be a stretch. “I’ve met him a few times, sure. I wouldn’t say I know him, though.” I’d had my suspicions about Lucian—that he was kinky too. It wasn’t a surprise whatsoever to have it confirmed. He was big-time Master material. “Why? Are you together or something?”

Cameron snorted. “I wish. No, he’s with some dude who’s manipulating him like fucking whoa, and Lucian won’t see it.”

I frowned. That didn’t compute with my impression of Lucian.

“Anyway,” Cameron went on. “Here’s a crazy idea. You wanna get out of here and grab a burger or something? Your plan fell through, and I can think of better things to do than watch Lucian and his little troll.”

I stood straighter instantly. This guy wanted to hang out? Fuck yes! I could use a new friend.

“Absolutely,” I said, sticking out my hand. “I’m Noa.”

Cameron smiled, visibly relieved. “Cameron.”

Ok, I’m calling it. Cara Dee is the undeniable Queen of Kink.

I only discovered her books a year or so ago and since then I devour them. Her characters have depth, they are unapologetic in their kink and if they don’t know who they are and what they want or need in the beginning, they sure will by the end.

The beginning was a little unconventional as it has 3 prologues. One from three years ago, from 18 months ago and one year ago. These set up the relationship KC and Noa started with and what has happened since.

We start off in present day with Noa and Cameron meeting each other outside of a restaurant they were both set to go to for a munch. Instead, they hang out together and find romance and love with each other. But both are submissives- very different kinds of submissives- but still. As much as they loved each other, they needed more. Which means they came as a package because they weren’t willing to give each other up.

Noa can’t forget KC, his former step father who has hasn’t seen in three years. And Cameron is smitten with KC’s best friend Lucian, even though when Lucian had previously suggested they play together Cameron said no. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he wanted to play AND have a relationship with Lucian.

The boys devise a plan to go to the community’s compound and come face to face with both men. It was sketchy at first, but their plan seemed to work.

Now we get to see these four men navigate what their relationships will look like. With each other and as a whole. KC and Lucian were already best friends and play buddies. Cameron and Noa were in love and boyfriends. KC and Noa were Daddy and Little. Lucian and Cameron were Master and slave. It could have gotten awkward with Cameron and KC as well as Noa and Lucian. But they story is so well written that they just come together naturally.

Most of it is all set at the McLean compound, which if you have read previous books in this series you are well aware of. But it is a big Victorian house set up for kink play with rooms that you can reserve to stay over night. The founders of the group each have cabins within sight of the house for privacy.

The kink scenes are written just so well. And we got kink that we don’t see a lot in books. Sounding, needle play, fear… All of them were just so incredibly hot! They also like to set elaborate games up for Doms and subs to play together and this one is a biggie!

The games are meant to test limits with the subs, but also to have fun. The subs ended up having a surprise for the Doms (or D types as they say which is amazing) and it was fantastic.

But then…the book was over. The games were set to be played over two days, but we got only one. And then there was an epilogue. I need more! It was finished but it felt a bit unfinished. Who won the game? WHAT did they win? Did Noa ever talk to his mother? How did that go? I HAVE QUESTIONS!

Sigh.

I know there will be more but I really hope that these 4 guys get another book to themselves and their story isn’t over.

4 pieces of eye candy

I’m often awkwardly silent or, if the topic interests me, a chronic rambler. In other words, I can discuss writing forever and ever. Fiction, in particular. The love story—while a huge draw and constantly present—is secondary for me, because there’s so much more to writing romance fiction than just making two (or more) people fall in love and have hot sex.

There’s a world to build, characters to develop, interests to create, and a topic or two to research thoroughly.

Every book is a challenge for me, an opportunity to learn something new, and a puzzle to piece together. I want my characters to come to life, and the only way I know to do that is to give them substance—passions, history, goals, quirks, and strong opinions—and to let them evolve.

I want my men and women to be relatable. That means allowing room for everyday problems and, for lack of a better word, flaws. My characters will never be perfect.

Wait…this was supposed to be about me, not my writing.

I’m a writey person who loves to write. Always wanderlusting, twitterpating, kinking, cooking, baking, and geeking. There’s time for hockey and family, too. But mostly, I just love to write.

Find Cara on social media here: https://www.caradeewrites.com/cdwlandingpage

Charlie Sunshine by Lily Morton: Audiobook Tour, Exclusive Excerpt, and Giveaway

February 7, 2022 by Denise

Sometimes love is a lot closer to home than you think.

Charlie Burroughs can’t keep a man. All he wants is a good relationship like the ones he sees his friends having, but none of the men he picks ever work out. Despite him trying to be the perfect boyfriend, the men are either threatened by his looks or his epilepsy or a combination of the two. It’s lucky that he has his best friend Misha to turn to. The two of them are closer than peas in a pod and fiercely loyal to each other. He can’t imagine his life without Misha in it.

Misha Lebedinsky is the complete opposite of his best friend. Being the support system for his mum and twin sisters leaves Misha with neither the time nor the inclination for a relationship. Quick and frequent hook-ups are his favourite means of communication and any other pesky emotional needs he has are met by Charlie, who he’s devoted to. He lives a life of happy compartmentalization with no intention of ever changing.

All of this changes when the two best friends move in together.

Being in close proximity means that they suddenly start to see each other in a very different light. But Charlie struggles when his drive to be the perfect partner clashes with the fact that he’s in love with a man who knows every little thing about him. And even if he can get past that, can a relationship ever work with a man who’d need a dictionary to tell him what love means?

From bestselling author Lily Morton comes a love story about a sunny librarian who has relationship written all over him and a banker who doesn’t even have it in his blurb. This is the second book in the Close Proximity series, but it can be read as a standalone.

Amazon – Ebook – Kindle Unlimited

Audible – Audiobook

Goodreads

I lean more heavily against the counter, enjoying the peace that usually descends at this time of the morning. The first rush is over, and now the library has an air of quiet bustle. We’ll pick up again as it gets closer to lunch and people come in to use the computers. I can feel tiredness tugging at my body, but I refuse to give in and straighten up instead.

“Why didn’t you take the first break?” Bethany asks chidingly.

“Why would I do that?” I pull the stack of books towards me that the little sex pest left behind and grab the Tipp-Ex from the drawer.

“Charlie.” Something in her voice makes me look up. “You look knackered,” she says quietly.

“I’m fine,” I say automatically. “Just a few late nights.”

“Oh really? You would need to have lived the life of Mel Gibson to earn the massive circles under those pretty eyes.” I smile but don’t answer, and she sighs. “You’re on break next,” she says firmly. “And you’re going to stay up there. I’m sure you’ve got stuff to do in your office. Like sleep on the sofa or pass out on the floor.”

A deep voice comes from the side of us. “That sounds like my day. You didn’t tell me that you’d gone into banking, Charlie.”

I look up and can’t stop the wide grin creeping over my face at the sight of my best and oldest friend. “You’re one letter off.”

He laughs. The happy and unrestrained sound doesn’t fit his appearance. He’s clad in a black pinstriped suit that cost more than I earn in a month. With his tanned face, dark wavy hair, and big white grin, he looks expensive and entirely out of place in here.

He jumps as an old lady pokes him in the back. “You waiting or just taking up space?” she asks querulously.

I bite my lip to hide a smile. “He’s taking up space, Mrs Bishop,” I say in a loud voice as her hearing aid squeals.

“What’s wrong with his face?” she immediately asks in her overloud voice.

“We haven’t got enough time to list that.” I smile at her and gesture at her pile of books. “Those all coming back?”

“They are.” She leans close. “And I have to say there was a name and telephone number in the back of one of the books.”

“Oh, yes?” I say warily.

She nods. “I had such a lovely chat with the bloke.” She pauses. “Although he kept asking to see my zits. I’m not sure what all that was about.” She sniffs disapprovingly. “I’m a little too mature for acne.”
I manage to repress the huge laugh, but Bethany isn’t so lucky, and I nudge her to send her over to log a customer onto a computer.

Lily writes contemporary romance novels, and specialises in hot love stories with a good dose of humour.

Lily lives in sunny England with her husband and two children, all of whom claim that they haven’t had a proper conversation with her since she bought her first Kindle.

She has spent her life with her head full of daydreams and decided one day to just sit down and start writing about them. In the process she discovered that she actually loved writing, because how else could she get to spend her time with hot, funny men!

She loves chocolate and Baileys and the best of all creations – chocolate Baileys! Her lifetime’s ambition is to have a bath in peace without being shouted by one of her family.

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Devil’s Dance by Garrett Leigh: Release Blitz, New Release Review and Giveaway

February 4, 2022 by Denise

Opposites attract. The outlaw biker and the accountant. Straightlaced vs straight to hell. Or heaven, depending on how you look at it.

And you can look at it any way you like, doesn’t mean it’s true. Either way, falling for snarky Alexei Ivanov is the lightbulb moment I’ve been waiting for my whole damn life. Or at least since my head got turned by someone else. A man I call brother, but he’s so much more than that.

I’ve loved Saint Malone for years. My loyal wingman has owned my heart so long I figured it had died of yearning for him. But Saint is as fragile as he is deadly. I don’t know how to help him until Alexei brings me to life in ways I can’t describe.

He opens my eyes, and I see them both.

I love them both.

With the weight of the underworld bearing down on me, I just gotta stay alive long enough to tell them.

Devil’s Dance is the first in a hurt/comfort, dark romance, MMM duet from the world of the Rebel Kings MC. Expect: tattoos, leather, and an enigmatic Russian hitman.

Cover Design: Black Jazz Design

Length: 96,000 words approx.

Rebel Kings MC Series

Amazon – Kindle Unlimited

Saint’s Song (Book #2) – Preorder

This is an MC romance. That isn’t necessarily romantic, although there are definitely moments, but it also isn’t your typical MC book.

Cam was voted in as president after his father was killed. There are still some “old school” guys in the club, but a lot of younger guys too. Ones that have no problem with rule changes. And changes to their business. Cam doesn’t care what kind of motorcycle you drive. He wants the MC to go almost totally legit. And being gay or bi is no big deal. There’s still the unwritten rule of hands off Cam’s siblings and MC members shouldn’t get together. Which makes Cam keep his hands off of Saint who he has loved since almost forever.

Then he meets Teddy, who he thinks will be a one off. But they have some serious chemistry and can’t necessarily stick to the one off plan. Teddy is also Alexi. A financial planner with a regular cell phone and a cell phone that gets calls from Russia. He is very tight lipped about his past so there are certainly secrets there.

Even with Cam’s focus on Alexi, he still loves Saint. Alexi sees it but is also intrigued by Saint. Saint is SO quiet and introverted and seems to suffer in silence. He would take a bullet for Cam but never say how he feels out loud. Alexi sees what is unspoken between Cam and Saint, and he is fine with it.

So waiting to see how that would happen, how it would play out, kept me staying up to turn the pages. What would be the circumstance? Who would start it? Where would they be? By the way? Totally worth the wait.

There is also a plot with the MC. They want to go legit. But another MC is running human trafficking through their territory. Cam wants it ended. Not only because he doesn’t condone trafficking, but also because his father trying to stop it is what got him killed. The MC gets an unlikely ally in bringing it to a stop.

I adored Saint. I just wanted to hug him. Seeing Cam really take control of the MC was great. And Alexi…we know a lot of his secrets now, but I feel like there is more to uncover.

This is book one of two. Apparently book 2 explores more of the relationship growing between the three men together. Because as a triad we didn’t get a whole lot. So I definitely want more. But there are other characters I would love to see get their happily ever after as well. Fingers crossed for more books.

4 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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The Real Thing: A Valentine’s Day Story by Elizabeth Hollows: Excerpt, Release Day Review and Giveaway

February 2, 2022 by Denise

One soldier home from training. Two best friends secretly in love. A plan to fake a romantic Valentine’s weekend. Will it be happiness or heartbreak?

Chad Anderson is a proud soldier with a promising career. He has almost got the perfect life, but for one small snag. Chad has been holding a candle for his best friend since he was seventeen.

Gareth Jenkins lives with him, along with his rescue dog. It’s the perfect arrangement and almost as good as the real thing—but it isn’t the real thing.

To make matters worse, it’s Valentine’s Day, and Chad will be returning from training for the holiday. It would be the ideal time to confess—but it has been nearly ten years. It’s long past the time to say something.

But he isn’t the only one with a candle.

Gareth might be a confident hairdresser with a flirtatious manner and easy-to-love personality, but it doesn’t help him where it counts. Because Gareth’s first love is his sexy soldier best friend, and one of these days, Gareth is sure he’s going to ruin everything with an unwanted kiss.

And if things aren’t bad enough for both of them, Chad comes up with an idea that might spell the end for their secrets. Because, instead of spending Valentine’s alone, he suggests they spend it having the weekend they’ve always wanted.

To do it, they’ll fake being a romantic couple.

When what they want is playing out right in front of them, can both men keep their feelings contained?

The Real Thing by Elizabeth Hollows

General Release Date: 1st February 2022

Word Count: 45,813

Book Length: SHORT NOVEL

Pages: 186

Amazon

First for Romance

Goodreads

On paper, Chad Anderson had the perfect life. He had a promising career in the military. He got along well with his fellow soldiers and the officers at his base. He had good financial stability, which had allowed him to buy a nice home in the suburbs and he had a loving and supportive family and a best friend whom he’d known since high school. His friend even lived with him, looking after the house while he was training or traveling with the army.

Everything seemed ideal. The people who didn’t know him might joke that the only thing missing was a loving wife for him to come home to.

But that was the heart of his problem. He did have someone to come home to, only unlike Chad wished, his best friend was not his spouse.

Gareth Jenkins had been his friend for many years, and despite all Chad’s attempts to stop it, he had fallen thoroughly and completely for the man. He couldn’t even say he’d turned around one day and realized Gareth was everything he’d ever wanted. No, it had started on day one.

They’d never really shared the same social circles in high school. In fact, they could have gone without ever speaking two words to each other if Chad hadn’t been leaving late one afternoon and found the shorter, scrawny teenager being cornered by bullies.

Chad had immediately leaped into the fray to protect the smaller teen. He’d already been training to prepare for the army, and despite being outnumbered, the other boys had stood no chance. Once they’d fled, he’d turned to Gareth and offered a hand. Gareth had flashed a bright, grateful smile, and Chad’s stomach had twisted and developed butterflies.

He hadn’t known it at the time, but that had been it for him.

At seventeen, Chad had blamed his pounding heart on the fight. He’d mumbled about Gareth staying safe before leaving the scene. The next day, Gareth had been waiting out front of the school. He’d thanked Chad again and hung around talking to him.

Almost overnight, they’d become close.

Chad had started spending all his spare moments with Gareth, his crush growing until it was a constant warm feeling under his skin. But Chad had wanted to bury his head in the sand. He hadn’t wanted a crush, especially not on another guy. He’d struggled to accept it for a long time, but the tipping point had been Gareth confessing a crush on someone in his class.

Gareth had admitted it on the way home from school. He’d been nervous but trying not to show it as he came out about his sexuality and infatuation. Chad had felt his stomach drop and his heart crack. It had left him with the knowledge that Gareth liked guys, but didn’t like him.

Chad had gone home and taken to his punching bag with vigor, trying to work out his pain and anger. His mother had found him, and with a few careful words, had prompted him to spill his truth.

To this day, Chad still appreciated that. She had pulled him into a hug, uncaring of the sweat coating his body. She’d accepted him without a moment’s pause.

Six months later, he’d scrabbled together enough confidence to tell the rest of his family and Gareth. But by that point, Gareth was already dating his crush, and Chad had taken to burying his feelings. He’d focused all his attention on the military and sworn that to walk into his new career with all his focus, he’d have to do it without a boyfriend by his side.

Nine years later and recently turned twenty-six, Chad was still repeating the same thing. He used it like a mantra to try to forget what he felt and explain why he didn’t date anyone.

The handsome gay lawyer in the corner? He wasn’t interested because he didn’t have the time.

Gareth’s last boyfriend? Chad didn’t like him because he’d looked down his nose at Gareth’s hairdressing career.

Advertise for a roommate? Why would he do that when Gareth was struggling to find a place to stay, and they could just share?

But denial only went so far. After long years in and out of training, surrounded by men and women who had all accepted the grim truth about the uncertainty of war, he realized the only person being fooled was him.

He’d spent close to ten years falling in love with his best friend. It now left a continuous but familiar ache over his heart. Most of the time, he could cope with it. Even coming home to Gareth’s bright smile after long months away didn’t strain his control.

But for the first time since they’d started living together, Chad worried. Normally, returning home from training was the highlight. He was eager to see his best friend and return to the ease and relaxation of civilian living.

But he was going to be home for Valentine’s Day.

If that weren’t problematic enough, for the first time in years they were both single and would be spending the weekend together.

It could have been the perfect set-up. He’d only need to admit what he felt, and the life he wanted could be at his fingertips.

But you’ve had nine years plus of hesitation. Do you really think the risk is any better now?

Chad didn’t.

He’d run his fair share of scenarios about him and Gareth. He’d lie awake in bed at the base, thinking about his best friend’s smile and trying to imagine how the man would take his open-hearted confession. Chad had rarely finished the scenarios to the end. It always took a turn for the worst. He wasn’t interested in spending his downtime crafting new ways to break his heart.

But he didn’t want Gareth dragging him to a club on the most romantic day of the year, either. Gareth often messaged him while he was away, regaling him on the nightlife and dating disasters he’d gone through in Chad’s absence.

Gareth wasn’t a party animal, but he easily attracted people into his orbit. People wanted him at their gatherings. He would always have a funny story to tell and never minded being the butt of the joke. Chad believed Gareth could make the sun shine on a rainy day just by smiling at the clouds.

It was something Chad could appreciate after the strict, intense environment he’d come from. Gareth made the first twenty-four hours easier, and his friend always tried to have the day off to spend it with him.

This time, he was arriving in the afternoon. Chad had taken a taxi from the airport, having persuaded Gareth that he didn’t need a lift. He felt certain that if he became swept up in the emotion of an airport greeting, he’d do something foolish like kiss Gareth. A taxi ride was safer. It gave him time to calm his thoughts.

When he arrived outside the house, he paid the driver and grabbed his bag. He stood on the pavement admiring his two-story home. The lawn had been recently mowed and there wasn’t a fleck of scratched paint or a curtain out of place. Gareth often joked he was the perfect househusband. Chad had never remarked on the subject. Just because he agreed, it didn’t mean he wanted to imagine Gareth maintaining a home for anyone else.

Walking up the path to the front door, he smiled at the sight of the open garage door. He could see their cars as if they were waiting for him to return. Gareth’s was a simple red Subaru while his was a silver Toyota pickup.

He reached the front door and could already hear the excited barking from Gareth’s rescue dog. Gareth had been volunteering at a local animal shelter when he’d fallen in love with her. He’d sent Chad a picture of them both looking up at the camera with puppy-dog eyes. He’d agreed within moments of reading the text about her needing a good home.

Grinning at the familiar, joyful sounds, he dropped his bag, braced his legs and opened the unlocked door. Helga was on him in a moment. He laughed as the two-year-old German Shepherd’s weight hit him full force. She was up on her hind legs, her front ones on his chest as she tried to lick his face.

“Hey, girl,” he greeted fondly. “I’ve missed you, too.”

He heard footsteps over her excited yipping.

“I’ve heard it’s nice to come home to a good woman,” Gareth teased.

Chad didn’t stop running his hands over her head, but he flicked his gaze up to find Gareth leaning against the doorframe. He was in low-slung blue jeans, barefoot, wearing a faded green shirt. His brunet hair was artfully blow-dried and brushed back from his face. He had in his familiar nose ring rather than the diamond stud he sometimes wore.

He looked gorgeous. The perfect sight to come home to.

“I’d rather it be a good man,” Chad replied, “especially one who makes dinner.”

Gareth laughed. “Luckily, I have been well taught by my fabulous grandmother. Lasagna is already in the oven.”

Chad smiled. He gave Helga one more firm pat before gently pushing her off him. She complied but looked unhappy about it. Chad walked around her to greet his friend. Gareth pushed off the doorframe, and Chad wrapped an arm around him, pulling him into a hug. Chad closed his eyes and enjoyed the moment that truly meant home to him. He breathed in Gareth’s floral hair products and felt Gareth hug him back tightly.

His fellow soldiers pulled him into hearty backslaps and friendly embraces, but Gareth hugged with his entire being. He leaned completely against Chad and seemed unwilling to let him go. It often felt as if Gareth missed him just as much.

But since he was the only one hopelessly in love, he knew it was only wishful thinking.

All too soon, the hug broke, due to Helga’s persistent whining and the snout she tried to shove between their bodies. She also scratched his leg with her paw. Chad pulled away but kept one arm around his friend. He looked down at the enthusiastic German Shepherd. She was jet black all along her spine, the top of her head and her ears. Her chest and legs were a light brown, like sand. She was a beautiful dog, and he still couldn’t believe someone had so callously abandoned her. After he held out his hand, she bumped it with her nose, and he ruffled the top of her head.

Gareth sighed, and Chad glanced over. He was sending Helga a mock glower.

“You know, when I adopted her, I didn’t realize I’d become second place to my best friend.”

Chad chuckled. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

Gareth snorted. “Bullshit. I could leave for a week, and she’d barely notice I’d returned unless I had dog bones.”

Shaking his head, Chad removed his arm from Gareth. He snatched up his rucksack, and when he straightened, Gareth had stepped inside, giving him a clear path into the house. Helga followed so close that she almost pressed against his leg. The living room was immaculate, just as Chad had expected. They were both fussy with presentation. Chad had developed the discipline almost instinctively as a part of his training and Gareth was just naturally tidy.

“Here… Pass me that,” Gareth said, holding out his arm. “I can start a load of washing.”

“Thanks,” Chad said, handing his pack over.

It was almost routine at this point. Gareth would head to the laundry, leaving him to spend a few minutes reacquainting himself with the quiet and familiarity of home. Chad wandered through the living room, noticing a few new books that Gareth had bought. He picked one up, unsurprised to find it was a romance novel. There were a few new chew toys for Helga. Otherwise, apart from a few small rearrangements of items, nothing had changed.

The kitchen was off the living room with the laundry farther down the way, along with a bathroom. Upstairs had another bathroom and three bedrooms. Gareth’s room was to the left of the stairs, his was to the right while the middle rooms were the bathroom and one filled with gym equipment for him to keep up with his training.

Breathing in the scent of cooking lasagna, Chad closed his eyes and enjoyed all the sounds that spoke of home—the birdsong, the occasional sound of a passing car and the low hum of the TV from whatever Gareth had been watching before he’d arrived.

Yet, despite feeling grateful for the reprieve, Chad didn’t feel like spending time without Gareth. He opened his eyes and followed the path Gareth had taken to the laundry. Helga was at his heels the entire time. When he reached the door, he found Gareth muttering under his breath as he pulled out clothing and sorted it into two piles.

One was for his civilian clothes and his simpler pieces, like his tan shirts. The rest needed a separate wash and a more thorough checking of pockets and removal of Velcro. The latter always took a lot longer, and he’d tried to insist he could do it, but Gareth had always taken on the job since moving in.

It was one more way Gareth acted like that joked-about ‘househusband’. The sight always had Chad’s heart flaring with warmth. It was above and beyond what Gareth needed to do as a friend, but Chad wouldn’t stop him when it felt so nice.

When Gareth gave one of the shirts a cautious sniff, it was the perfect opportunity to announce his presence.

“I do wash my clothing while I’m gone,” Chad remarked.

Gareth looked over his shoulder, seeming surprised by his presence, before smiling.

“You mean it’s not just a bunch of sweat-slicked army men wrestling on the ground half naked?”

“Sorry to spoil your fantasies,” Chad drawled.

Gareth sighed loudly. “And the romance novels made it seem so realistic.”

Chad shook his head. He also crouched down to help Gareth with the sorting. There was an immediate problem when Helga tried to shove her nose in the way. Gareth laughed and ended up batting away Chad’s hands.

“I can handle a bit of sorting. You make sure Helga doesn’t rip something in her enthusiasm.”

Lowering to the floor, he put his back to the wall and spread out his legs. Helga immediately dropped between them. Her paw went over his thigh, along with her head. He patted her soothingly while keeping his gaze on Gareth.

The man was always a sight to behold, even while doing something so mundane as filling the washing machine. Chad itched to touch his friend. He wanted to slide a hand over his back, cup his neck and gently duck in to steal his lips for a kiss.

He wanted the soft sweetness of greeting his lover with a tender embrace.

Many of his fellow soldiers had joked or bragged about their plans to return home to their wives or girlfriends and make up for lost time. They had been without sex for too long and wanted to get their spouses on the first available surface.

Chad wanted Gareth. He couldn’t deny it. He’d spent lonely nights guiltily fantasizing about his friend. Chad had also woken up from too many dreams where he’d taken his aching cock in hand. He’d closed his eyes and muffled his groans with his pillow, desperate to keep from moaning his friend’s name.

But for all that he wanted to strip Gareth bare and take his time learning Gareth’s body and making him moan, it was the softer moments he craved when he came home from training. A bright smile, a tender kiss…

It was what would make Valentine’s Day all the harder to get through. It was the day of lovers, secret admirers and showing exactly how much you loved someone. Gareth might read ridiculous romance novels, but Chad was the one who wanted to buy his partner flowers and hold the door for him when they went out to dinner.

“Are you zoning out on me?” Gareth questioned.

Chad jerked from his thoughts to find Gareth watching him with amusement.

“Do you need a nap before we eat?”

“I’m fine,” Chad denied. “Thinking.”

“Uh-huh,” Gareth said, throwing the last of Chad’s civilian clothes in the wash. “Well, since we’re looking at things to wash.”

He sent Chad a pointed look. Chad glanced down at his clothes. They weren’t that dirty, but Chad knew it for the routine it was. Normally, he had a shower and changed out of anything relating to the army. It allowed him to relax entirely, as if he were washing away his training.

He hoped it would help him get his head back into the game. Weeks away from Gareth always made him maudlin and prone to wishing for things he didn’t have. He couldn’t afford to stay in the same headspace. There couldn’t be anymore fantasies about Gareth naked—or about cuddling and kissing him the way a partner would.

He had to return to best-friend mode. The shower was the best way to start.

“Good idea,” he said.

He had to shake his leg and push Helga gently away. Chad ignored her betrayed look and stood. He stretched, feeling his muscles pull pleasantly. When he lowered his arms, he looked down at his friend. Gareth was still kneeling on the floor. Chad couldn’t ignore the connotations of their positions, and he swallowed. He wanted to cup Gareth’s cheek and thumb at his perfect lips. Maybe draw him close so Gareth’s hands could rest on his thighs before unbuttoning his pants.

Chad turned away forcibly.

“Back in ten,” he said, keeping his voice level.

He left the laundry with measured steps. He still felt rattled. It wasn’t what normally happened on returning home. It was always hard, and he never stopped wanting Gareth, but he felt more on edge than usual.

It’s Valentine’s Day soon. It’s never a good time. You always spend it thinking about Gareth.

Climbing the stairs with heavy limbs. Chad knew better than to deny the truth. He’d spent too much of his youth burying what he felt for Gareth. But he’d admitted it long ago. He was in love, and the most romantic day of the year was going to hit him hard.

You’ve survived nine years. Don’t blow your cover, soldier.

Stiffening his shoulders, Chad reached the landing and turned down the hall to his room. He opened the door to find nothing was out of place. The window was open but there wasn’t any dust. He knew Gareth routinely gave his room a cleaning while he was gone. It was why he never left out anything incriminating about his feelings.

Opening his chest of drawers, he pulled out some of his most comfortable house clothes. As he did, heavy paws hit the stairs. Whatever Gareth had done to keep Helga at bay had failed. She pushed into his room, her tail wagging. He grinned and gave her another pat.

She trailed after him easily as he went toward the bathroom. He paused by the door, blocking the path.

“Sorry, girl,” he apologized.

You’re not the one I’d be inviting in here…if I could.

Shutting the door quickly, but carefully, he locked her out. She immediately scratched at the wood. When it didn’t illicit the right response, she gave a mournful whine. Chad put his clothes on the basin, chuckling at the assortment of haircare products taking up most of the space. He knew Gareth’s many accessories and devices would fill the drawers.

By comparison, he had a toothbrush, shaving cream, a razor and deodorant. Despite the avalanche of objects, Chad wouldn’t have it any other way. He opened one cream and took a small sniff. It was like pressing against Gareth’s hair.

Once, at his first posting, Chad had almost stolen one of Gareth’s jars of haircare products, wanting something to remind him of home. It had been a ridiculous flight of fancy, and he was glad he’d never done it, but he couldn’t help checking the products every now and again. They always brought a smile to his lips and sent a wave of fondness through him.

Putting the tub back where he’d found it, Chad turned on the shower’s hot water and stripped from his clothes. Helga continued to huff and whine at the bathroom door. Chad knew she’d either leave or Gareth would drag her downstairs.

The familiarity and sense of family was everything he’d tried not to miss while away on training, but now that he was back, he could let it seep into his bones. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t perfect and that Gareth would never be his life partner. If this was as close as he ever got, Chad would be happy.

Because despite the imperfections, this was still home, and he was glad to be back.

This is a great premise. Best friends to lovers, soldier comes home on leave and it’s finally THEIR time. They’ve been secretly in love with each other for years, but never knew how to tell the other. They live together, share a dog, Gareth does Chad’s laundry when he comes home. It is all the things of a relationship, except actually being in one.

I struggled a bit with this story. It had a ton of back and forth…”I love him, but will lose him if he knows”, “How do I tell him without losing our friendship”, and the “Let’s have sex and be each other’s Valentine’s since we don’t have one.” And all of those are great tropes, but it was just a bit too much. There wasn’t anything else to hold up this story. It was just all the back and forth, until Chad decides that the best way to win Gareth is to have them pretend to be Valentines and give him all the dates he’s never had. It could have easily progressed. I just felt that they should have naturally gone that way, rather than a forced angst.

Their relationship, though, was so believable as it was. They clearly were great friends, knew each other inside and out. Helped each other out in all the best ways. Even the small things, you could tell that they loved and respected each other. Dinners out on the patio, with beers in hand. Their love for the dog.

There is still a lot to enjoy in this story. Especially their deep friendship. I just needed a different feel to the story than what we got.

3 pieces of eye candy

Elizabeth Hollows is an Australian writer of LGBT love stories specializing in homosexual or lesbian romance.

Her preferred genres are fantasy, science fiction and contemporary/modern.

She has been writing since she was twelve, but has spent the last few years writing romance stories and discovering a passion for LGBT romance.

When Elizabeth is not writing she embroiders, reads and plots her next novel. She is a fan of the winter months and always has a book in her handbag and a cup of tea nearby.

You can find Elizabeth at her website here – https://www.elizabethsromances.com/

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