Two Chicks Obsessed with Books & Eye Candy

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Chasing Eddie by Frank W. Butterfield: RDB, Excerpt and Giveaway

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January 29, 2019

Eddie Smith is a chubby bear of a guy who lives in Daytona Beach and doesn’t work much anymore but isn’t retired.

Whit Hall has just retired as a tight end for an NFL expansion team and lives in San Antonio.

At 52, Eddie feels at home with himself and has learned how to roll with life. He’s happy enough where he is and doesn’t expect much to happen anytime soon.

At 35, Whit is ready for a life that put less of a strain on his body. He’s banked plenty of dough but doesn’t know what to do next.

. . .

About to sit down to his favorite take-out lasagna, Eddie gets a call from a friend who wants to hire him to help Whit figure out what’s next in his life.

Eddie is a kinda, sorta life coach and might be able to help but seriously doubts it.

Reluctantly, he climbs aboard his friend’s private jet and flies to San Antonio. Once he arrives, he ends up getting a whole lot more than he bargained for. Whit Hall is aggressive, he’s angry, and he’s under a lot of pressure.

It’s a good thing Eddie (sorta) knows what he’s doing!

. . .

Now that he’s retired, Whit is looking for the next thing.

He’s set, with plenty of bank. And he’s doing what he can to deal with his parents, who are all up in his business. A lot.

Then, one Wednesday morning, he opens his front door. Before he knows it, Whit is chasing Eddie Smith out of his house, down the street, and even further.

It’s a good thing Whit is (kinda) in shape for this new type of chase!

. . .

Neither man wants to go far…

But unexpected changes are chasing them both…

Wherever they end up going, and whatever ends up happening, this will be the beginning of something new and wonderful for them both.

. . .

This 45K word stand-alone contemporary male/male (MM) romance involves a chubby bear guy and a retired professional football player.

Included:

Some tension…

Hints of a coming-out story…

Medium-heat sexual descriptions…

Slightly nerdy details…

Some metaphysics…

And a HEA (that’s a happily-ever-after)…

 

Not included:

Much angst…

Graphic sexual descriptions…

A cliff-hanger…

 

This story is the beginning of a series of contemporary romantic adventures. It ends with the start of one of those, so there are some loose plot points but no cliff-hanger.

Topics: virgin, virgin hero, out for you, first time romance, mid-life transformation, innocent first timer, late bloomer

. . .

Golden Gate Love Stories are all about the lives and loves of men who fall in love with each other and find the one they were waiting for.

Set in the same universe as the Nick Williams Mystery Series and the Daytona Beach Book Series, these love stories focus on the men who come together, find true love, and really do live happily ever after.

Amazon US – Kindle Unlimited

Amazon UK – Kindle Unlimited

Golden Gate Love Stories

Book #1 – The One He Waited For – Amazon US | Amazon UK

Book #2 – Their Own Hidden Island – Amazon US | Amazon UK

He looked at me for a long moment. His violet eyes got more focused and I wondered what was going on in that head of his with its tufted hair on top and strange gray streaks.

I could feel my attraction for him suddenly come front and center. Like always happened, my knees got a little weak and my mouth got dry.

I held his gaze for as long as I could, wondering what was really going on. I knew what I wanted to happen. I wanted something… Like a kiss or more. I was pretty sure he’d been watching me as if he was attracted to me. His eyes always went to my belly, which was a tell-tale sign. Right then, however, his violet eyes were drilling into mine.

As always, I started doubting myself. Maybe I was mis-reading him entirely. Maybe he was just a friendly straight guy. As we looked at each other, all of those thoughts, and more, ran through my head.

Of course, I’d been hired by Bob to do a job and kissing Whit wasn’t in the job description. And it wasn’t ethical for me to kiss him. Not that I adhered to some sort of written code of ethics. I just didn’t think it was respectful of Whit as a client, even though he really wasn’t my client, but that was splitting hairs.

Nevertheless, I was tempted to put my left hand around his waist, but I was afraid how he would react. It was hard to be around a big scaredy-cat who might bite, and hard, at any moment.

So, with all that going through my mind, I stood perfectly still and examined the violet in his eyes, something that was remarkable to look at.

And then, suddenly, it was over.

He turned and looked at the river. After another few seconds, he leaned against one of the trees and crossed his arms. “Knowing this is here is enough to get me to stay.”

“Oh?” I asked, wishing I had some water to drink.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah. I talked to my business manager about putting the house up for sale. He thinks I could make a profit on it, considering that I owned it.”

I looked over at the river, not wanting to show him what I thought of that idea. But, somehow, he knew I had an opinion.

“What?”

“I guess I would never think of paying a premium on a house because a football player had lived there. Not one like that one. You’ve got a historical marker, after all.”

He didn’t say anything. I looked over at him. He was staring out at the river.

“I tried to get the city to let me remove that thing—”

“What!” I couldn’t help myself.

He looked at me, frowning. Shrugging, he said, “Well, I don’t give a shit about how old it is or who lived in it.”

“Well, then, why the hell did you buy it?”

He leaned forward, aggressively. “I didn’t buy it. My mother did.”

I leaned back. “Oh.”

He took a deep breath and then said, “Sorry. I promised Ossler I wouldn’t do that again.”

I knew what he meant, but I wanted to hear him say it. “Do what?”

“Get in your face.” He did look contrite which, on him, was really cute.

“Thanks, Whit.”

He looked down at me and smiled a little. “No sweat, Coach.”

I grinned and shook my head.

He laughed and then patted his belly. “OK. Now, I’m hungry.”

“Me too.”

Although Frank worships San Francisco, he lives at the beach on another coast. Born on a windy day in November of 1966, he was elected President of his high school Spanish Club in the spring of 1983. After moving across these United States like a rapid-fire pinball, he now makes his home in a hurricane-proof motel, built in 1947, with superior water pressure. While he hasn’t met any dolphins personally, that invitation is always open.

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Moved By You by Ann Lister: Release Day Review and Giveaway

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Vance feels trapped. He never cared about his family’s wealth and prestige, but he finds himself pinned in place by the weight of his father’s expectations. Vance would much rather sweat in his studio creating metal sculptures with his blow torch than take any kind of position at the family firm. When pressure from his father mounts, Vance is torn between going with the flow or making waves. But everything changes when Vance hits a bike messenger with his car.

Kyle has drifted through his life with a massive chip on his shoulder against the privilege that’s always been just out of reach. His job as a bike messenger doesn’t help. He’s stuck delivering packages to the very elites he loathes. When Vance crashes into Kyle, they’re suddenly thrust onto different paths than they ever expected. But can they take this new path together, or will egos and societal privilege create too many obstacles to overcome?

Moved By You is a 67,000 word MM novel with an enemies to lovers theme, and a HEA.

Amazon – Kindle Unlimited

 

I am normally a fan of Ann Lister. But this story was a disappointment for me.

What should have been an opposites attract kind of love story was, in fact, 2 guys bickering all of the time, misunderstanding each other, making assumptions, walking out, etc etc etc.

Their first encounter was expected. Hot office guy oogling the bike messenger. The second encounter- when hot office guy hits the bike messenger, literally, was a bit jarring. The bike messenger was just. so. mad.

Then he flips and he is nice. But wait, now it is time for the other guy to be a jerk.

Back and forth they go until Kyle, the messenger. gets devastating news and then ALL OF A SUDDEN Vance, hot office guy, is there acting like the best boyfriend in the world. When they could barely hold a conversation without sniping at each other.

So there’s this huge conflict before they are even a couple that they have to navigate. Which they don’t do well. So they stomp off again.

But then totally convoluted and rushed ending toward a HEA.

The time lines were messed up, the verbiage was off putting (a blue collar guy isn’t going to say things like “The moment I arrived at your door…”), conflicts resolved quickly, characters we never met playing a huge roll…. it was just a bit of a mess for me.

2.5 Pieces of Eye Candy

Ann Lister is a native New Englander currently living on the island of Martha’s Vineyard with her husband. She has pulled details from her years living in the New England area and uses many local settings and landmarks in her novels. After graduating art school, marrying, and raising two daughters, she established her own video production company. Her nearly two decades working in video production included work within the music industry and won her a coveted Telly Award.

Her ‘behind-the-scenes’ exposure to the music world and her love of rock music is the inspiration for her erotic rock star romances. Her rock star romance, “Fall For Me”, Book One in The Rock Gods series, was a Finalist in the 2013 Rainbow Award and Book Three, Make You Mine, established her as an Amazon #1 Bestselling Author. Each book in The Rock Gods series brings her two favorite elements together: musicians and the love between two men.

Her stories focus on what it truly means to love; love unconditionally, love without restrictions or labels, love without fear or judgment – to just simply love.

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Skin and Bone (Digging Up Bones: Book 2) by TA Moore: Blog Tour with Exclusive Guest Post and Giveaway

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TCO is very excited to have TA Moore here today with Chapter Three of her short story for the blog tour of Skin and Bone, Digging Up Bones: Book Two. I can’t wait to read this book! Make sure you check out the entire story, on all six blogs, and don’t forget to enter the giveaway!

Digging Up Bones: Book Two

Cloister Witte and his K-9 partner, Bourneville, find the lost and bring them home.

But the job doesn’t always end there.

Janet Morrow, a young trans woman, lies in a coma after wandering away from her car during a storm. But just because Cloister found the young tourist doesn’t mean she’s home. What brought her to Plenty, California… and who didn’t want her to leave?

With the help of Special Agent Javi Merlo, who continues to deny his growing feelings for the rough-edged deputy, Cloister unearths a ten-year-old conspiracy of silence that taps into Plenty’s history of corruption.

Janet Morrow’s old secrets aren’t the only ones coming to light. Javi has tried to put his past behind him, but some people seem determined to pull his skeletons out of the closet. His dark history with a senior agent in Phoenix complicates not just the investigation but his relationship with Cloister.

And since when has he cared about that?

Title: Skin and Bone (Book 2 of the Digging up Bones series)

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Release: 26 February

Cover Artist: Bree Archer

Amazon

Dreamspinner

First of all, thank you so much for having me! I’m thrilled to be here with Skin and Bone, the second book in the Digging up Bones series. Authors should probably be like parents in that they never admit any book is their favourite, but I love this series. It was great fun for me to revisit them in Skin and Bone and I hope you guys enjoy seeing them again too!

For this blog tour I have written a short story called ‘Sticks and Stones’ where you can see what Javi and Cloister were up to between books!

Sticks and Stones – Chapter Three

The light bounced over the rutted path as Cloister half-jogged, half-skidded down the loose shale covered hill. Scrub grew long and stringy at the side of the road, dried out and noisy as wildlife moved through it.

Bon’s ears swivelled in response to the rustle of fat bodies through the grass and the squeaky mews of something that was either a cat or a baby racoon, but was definitely interesting. Despite the distractions she kept her nose down to the trail as she sniffed out Judge Buchanan in the dirt and stones.

“Good girl,” Cloister told her. “It would just bite your nose anyhow.”

Bon wagged her tail in response to the ‘good’ and ignored the rest. The nylon weave of the leash rubbed at Cloister’s fingers as he kept her fairly tight to him. He’d grown up in a area like this, a dozen old buildings scattered back along a country loop so minor it didn’t have an official name. Just a number and the nickname Trash Alley, because…well…Cloister’s family, cousins and uncles and friends, lived there.

People always drove too fast on roads like this, as if they assumed the whole stretch of concrete and dirt from their doorway to the freeway was for their use only. Cloister had lost a bike and the skin off his back one summer to their neighbor—you’d yelled at him for scraping up her Station Wagon—but never a dog. He didn’t intend to break that streak.

A stray branch caught on his sleeve and snapped up into his face, It caught under his eye with a sharp, scratch of pain and then flicked up into his eyebrow. He winced and rubbed his eye on the back of his hand, torch beam pointed into the scrub to catch the reflection from a pair of eyes a bit too high off the ground to be a racoon.

Cloister ignored the coyote—unless it was rabid a coyote wouldn’t be interested in picking a fight with a big dog and a human unless it was pushed to it—and studied the trees along the side of the path.

No broken twigs. No scraps of hair caught in the branches or bits of fabric pierced like flags.

Judge Buchanan had left the house on foot and at her own pace. No one had chased her down here, if there was anyone with her they’d not been in a hurry. No fresh scuff marks on the road, no signs of any spot where someone had dug in their heels or grabbed for something to try and slow themselves down.

Cloister had only met Buchanan once, a domestic violence case where Bon had dragged an angry, tweaking ex from under a neighbors porch. She’d not seemed the sort to be dragged off into the night without some mark of her left behind.

At the bottom of the hill the dirt road ended in a gate. Bon stuck her nose under it and snorted in frustration as she tried one gap and then another. Second time lucky and she squeezed through the bars. The leash pulled tight between them as she leaned against.

“Bleib,” Cloister told her. She whinged her disapproval of the stay order but flopped down on the pavement. Her tail tip twitched impatiently as she waited. Cloister let the leash drop and jumped up to grab the top of the gate. The metal–rough and untreated–scraped against his palm as he pulled himself up. He kicked one booted foot between the bars and boosted himself over the crossbar. Cloister dropped down on the other side and pulled the leash back through. Bon got a quick thump to the shoulders for being a good dog as she scrambled back onto her paws. “Such.”

On the other side of the was a well-paved concrete road. Bon veered sharply across to the left and then keep going onto the other side of the road. Security lights flicked on as they jogged past. On a few of the gates a camera, red light bright against the darkness, tracked him through its territory.

A bench, decorated with a divorce lawyer’s capped white smile and phone number, distracted Bon for a moment. She circled around it and then jumped up onto the seat and barked as she scraped at the sun-bleached plastic.

“She stopped here, huh?” Cloister said. He snapped his fingers and gestured down for Bon. She hopped down and wove between his legs, her weight solid as she butted her shoulder behind his knees. The leash tangled around his ankles in a snare. Cloister pinned a loop under his heel and stepped out of the knot. “Bon, enough. Sit.”

With a heavy, put-upon sigh Bon sat down. She hung her tongue out of her mouth, pink and dripping, while Cloister checked the bench over. Initials had been carved into the plastic with deep, ragged strokes and circled with lopsided hearts. No gang tags. No blood.

A flicker of something yellow beneath the bench caught his eye. He knelt down and reached in the grab the scrap of paper that had caught against a loose bit of rock. It was a sheet of lined, yellow paper with a list of times and locations on it. Home bookended the list, and in between included the courthouse, a cafe—ham on rye stipulated in brackets underneath, and a dry cleaners.

Someone had been paying a lot of attention to where Judge Buchanan went every day.

Although—Cloister glanced up the timetable posted in the metal pole—why they’d take her to get the bus he didn’t know.

19 – It’s About the Book

20 – My Fiction Nook

21 – Two Chicks Obsessed

24 – Boy Meets Boy

25 – Love Bytes

26 – Joyfully Jay

TA Moore is a Northern Irish writer of romantic suspense, urban fantasy, and contemporary romance novels. A childhood in a rural, seaside town fostered in her a suspicious nature, a love of mystery, and a streak of black humour a mile wide. As her grandmother always said, ‘she’d laugh at a bad thing that one’, mind you, that was the pot calling the kettle black. TA Moore studied History, Irish mythology, English at University, mostly because she has always loved a good story. She has worked as a journalist, a finance manager, and in the arts sectors before she finally gave in to a lifelong desire to write.

Coffee, Doc Marten boots, and good friends are the essential things in life. Spiders, mayo, and heels are to be avoided.

Website: www.tamoorewrites.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TAMoorewrites/

Twitter: @tamoorewrites

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Darkness Dawns by Zakarrie Clarke: Exclusive Guest Post, Excerpt and Giveaway

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Darkness Dawns is a love story. It also tells the tale of one man’s war with himself, brought onto the battlefield of his blindness. Leo Ferrar suffers from diabetic retinopathy and lost his sight two years ago. Unable to bear the scrutiny of strangers or the impact of his blindness on those he loves, Leo has determined on shutting the world out ever since. This is the man Ben meets on his first day at work as Mr Ferrar’s care assistant.

A former heroin addict, Ben was sentenced to six months community service as punishment for his crimes by a judge entitled to condemn him to a seven-year stretch. Far too charming for his own welfare, Ben proves unaccountably brilliant at ‘bulldozing the blind’.

When fate sees fit to dispatch Ben to the home of the man he has dubbed Mr Ferrarcious;it is with the words of the last five unfortunates who’d dared darken Leo’s doorway ringing in his ears.  A door that is opened by a man who might be Lord Byron himself. Drop dead gorgeous and as hot as hell, Leo Ferrar hasthemost beautiful eyes Ben has ever seen.

Never has an irony seemed so cruel. Nor fate so fortuitous.

Author: Zakarrie Clarke

Title: Darkness Dawns

Publisher: MLR Press

Genre/s: Contemporary/Humour/MM/Disability (Blindness)

Length: 65 000 words/150 PDF pages

Release Date: February 1, 2019

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Topic: switching sub genres when writing (historical, contemporary etc)

Thank you for having me, and hello to you and your readers.

I wasn’t conscious of having switched sub genres for some time after I had. I only seem to distinguish things thus: Favourites/Stuff I couldn’t care less about. As long as I’m not required to pay attention to the latter in everyday life, I tend to ignore them. I’ve always been attracted to people regardless of gender, and feel likewise about genres. I mostly watch movies with actors I adore, and read books written by authors I admire. I suspect they’d have to release a quantum physics textbook before I registered their switch of subjects.

There were two stories rattling around my head when I started to write with real focus. Both were contemporary m/m romance, but my third was a love story set in a psychiatric hospital. Darkness Dawns was my fourth, so it seems I tackled two disorder/disability stories on the trot. In retrospect, I may have written Hangover From Hell (my first published novel) for a bit of light relief. A few months later, I began one of my historical binges. The Georgian/Regency period has always been my favourite era, so I re-read my biographies on The Duchess of Devonshire and Marie Antoinette (I love that their stories intersect). My stash replenished—overflowing with facts and steeped in imagery from The Duchess and Marie Antoinette—I began The Duke & The Dandy Highwayman.

For some unfathomable reason, this triggered a shapeshifter story based upon local legend. Looking back, this was my most significant switch—in theory—having fast forwarded a few centuries, moved from London to Cornwall, and entered the realms of fantasy. In truth, I found it far more tricky to segue from a sightless character to an artist. I had to interfere with my thought processes; lose a sense and maintain its absence, mindful of every word I weaved. Not-so sneaky sight references seemed to lurk in wait like landmines, everywhere I looked. Or couldn’t. In contrast, switching from a highwayman to a shapeshifter was more akin to slipping on a new costume. I lost my swishy cape but gained fur and super senses. That was fun. I did miss the cape, though.

The only time I’ve consciously tweaked my terminology was while writing The Duke & The Dandy. I wanted to include Regency colloquialisms, so I sourced the correct cant and entwined it into my ordinary writing. Ye olde English is my catnip, so it felt a very comfy fit. I just love words. I squirrel them away to snuffle…from Shakespeare to Sappho, Trollope to Tonlet. Then waft them about with gay abandon.

Leo knew heshould have opted to use the cane, instead of the arm Ben offered him for their unexpected walk.Should. Every time that word left someone’s lips, Leo wanted to scream; fists clenched in a screech of hopeless, helpless rage. The fact that everything he shoulddo was For-His-Own-Benefit, made it so much worse, which was as ludicrous as it was true. Independence was the only thing he had left to aspire to. So, why the fuck did should rub Leo so raw it obliterated any inclination he may have had to do whatever it prefaced? He ought to want to do the things he should. But what if he tried…and failed? What if Leo couldn’t master any of them? Then he would lose even the hope that he might, one day, be able to. Even more galling, that loss would be down to him, because he was so bloody useless. He didwant to show Ben that he was quite capable of managing…didn’t he? Very much, although why that mattered, Leo had no idea.

Why care what this latest in a long line of functioning eyeballs thought of him? It was probably more politic to say, ‘visually unimpaired’. Visually Impaired. Leo had to stifle the urge to punch people who described him thus. Impaired? Adj: weakened or damaged. Weak. Weakened. F’fucksakes. He was still chewing that particular wasp when Ben asked for his wrist.

Does he intend to lead me by it, as if I’m a toddler?

Leo found himself holding it out anyway. Christ knows why he was going along with all this. It was just that…being in Ben’s company was rather like sitting in the passenger seat of a snow plough driven by a drunk. Far preferable to standing in its path…and yet, somehow more appealing than staying behind, wherever the hell it was off to.

Nevertheless, he was still relieved when Ben clasped the proffered wrist—not to cart Leo off as he’d feared—but to plant his hand on top of Ben’s head. The fact that Leo could have changed the lightbulb without stretching a whole lot further, did seem to suggest he’d been addressing Ben’s nipples for the last half hour.

Quite how Ben then contrived to claim fault for something that was Leo’s mistake was less clear, but this was pulled off with such disarming charm, it would’ve been churlish to argue otherwise. Why the hell did the notion of calling Ben’s bluff feel as brutal a prospect as drowning his cat? If he had one, of course. Cat? More to the point…nipples?

“Thank you,” Leo managed to mumble, which was something of a result itself. Half an hour with Ben and he’d started to feel several sandwiches short of the proverbial picnic. He’d also begun to suspect that Violet had been a sweet little old lady—and quite sane—when she’d met Ben.

So off they went. The blindingly daft leading the blind off on a stroll around Camden.

In a bid to distract himself from well, pretty much everything he’d thought for the last five minutes, Leo decided to ask Ben to describe himself. For some reason he was intrigued, not only to know what Ben looked like, but to hear the picture he drew. Leo had an inkling this would prove more unmissable than an aural tour around the National Portrait Gallery. Unmissable?It was a bloody masterpiece. There most definitely were not any renderings of Steptoe’s six-four daughter there. The last two years might have felt a damn sight less soul-destroying if Ben had voiced Leo’s DVD visual descriptions.

Walking outside had lost all its appeal when the world became a giant landmine lying in wait to blow up in Leo’s face; every step into the unknown, a potential public humiliation. Despite this, and Ben’s partiality to lamp posts, they somehow arrived in Gloucester Crescent, alive and well. Even more shocking, was that Leo hadn’t fretted about…anything really, along the way. He’d just drifted along, listening to Ben weave words too beguiling to question where embellishment waved farewell to the truth. But who the fuck would want to, when that would feel as blasphemous as punching a fist through a Picasso?

When Zakarrie was little and dreamed big, she wanted to be a writer. Just like Enid Blyton. Or p’raps not…having been most remiss on the lashings of ginger beer front. After moving to London at eighteen and flitting about for far too long, she finally settled, as blissy as can be, by the sea. When her castaway dreams resurfaced, they were believed into being by the warm words of friends who breathed life into her own. Her one wish now is that someone, somewhere, might enjoy the misadventures of her miscreants as much as she adores writing them.

 

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Noble Hops by Layla Reyne: Exclusive Excerpt, Release Day Review and Giveaway

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Layla Reyne stopped by today with the final book in her Trouble Brewing series, Noble Hops. She brought an exclusive excerpt only for TCO readers, and a fantastic book and swag bag giveaway. Make sure you check it out! Noble Hops is available in ebook and audiobook now, so pick it up here!

 

Everything Dominic Price has worked hard to uphold is about to come crashing down on everything he holds dear.

So much for the quiet life. Just as assistant US attorney and brewery owner Dominic Price is settling into a comfy new chapter with his partner, FBI agent Cameron Byrne, the sudden death of Nic’s father puts their happily-ever-after in jeopardy. Nic immediately suspects foul play, his prime suspect a notorious gangster his father was indebted to—only now the loan shark is out for blood.

Cam has been longing for Nic to finally let him in on this very personal case. But when Nic’s belief that he’s the sole Price heir is upended, the line between personal and professional starts to blur, leaving Cam unsure of where he stands.

Nic is depending on Cam’s kidnap and rescue expertise to save his recently discovered family member before it’s too late. But with a dangerous threat closing in, the ghosts from Nic’s past cast long shadows. Any relationship could crack under the pressure, but for Nic, finding his family might mean losing the love of his life.

Noble Hops (Trouble Brewing #3) by Layla Reyne

Publisher: Carina Press

Release Date (Print & Ebook): Ebook/Audio: February 11, 2019; Print: February 26, 2019

Length (Print & Ebook): 320 pages

Subgenre: M/M Romantic Suspense

 

Layla Reyne says: Nic and Cam have to fight for their lives and their happily ever after in this exciting, action-packed conclusion to the Trouble Brewing series.

“Well-matched protagonists fueled by love and purpose risk everything to bring a slick gangster down in a thriller both hot and sweet, wrapping up a well-done M/M series in style.”

— Library Journal

“I adore this series, and I can’t wait for more Nic and Cam!”

— Author of The Fall, May Archer, on Craft Brew (Trouble Brewing #2)

 

Amazon

Audible

Thanks for having me on the blog today to celebrate the release of NOBLE HOPS, the final book of the Trouble Brewing series. The Whiskey Verse gang is all back together – and indulging in Cam’s favorite treat – in this exclusive excerpt. Enjoy!

Cam entered the conference room with a pink, brown and orange box on each hand, skirting past Nic who held the door open for him. “We come bearing doughnuts.”

Despite his vow in Boston to never eat Dunkin’ Donuts again, once Cam had learned there was a new one on their way from the house to the office, all bets were off. His colleagues had reaped the rewards ever since, as Lauren did today, looking up from her computer with a tired smile.

“My heroes.” She took one of the boxes from Cam and dug right in.

“You’re lucky he didn’t eat them all on the way here,” Nic said, as Cam slid the other box onto the table.

With his free hand, Cam shot Nic the bird. “Well, if someone hadn’t kept me up all night.”

Lauren clapped her hands over her ears. “Earmuffs!”

Cam laughed around a bite of blueberry-glazed doughnut.

“It was nothing that fun,” Nic said, headed for the coffeemaker. “He pretended to be Vaughn, and I grilled him for hours.”

“Waste of a night. You’re ready.” Cam reached for a second doughnut, and Nic shoved a cup of coffee in his hand instead.

“That’s four already, and as for last night, I want to be prepared.”

“I think I can help with that,” Lauren said, losing the battle with a powdered one, her navy blazer from yesterday taking a sugar beating.

“You cracked Harris’s computer?” Cam asked.

The slim MacBook had been locked away in a wall safe, hidden behind the framed alphabet poster in the nursery. When Lauren had carried it out last night, Vaughn’s eyes had flashed with what looked like fear, the first crack Cam had seen in his shiny, too-cool veneer.

“I did.”

“Then what am I here for?” came a familiar voice behind them, the drawl unmistakably Southern.

Cam twisted to see his best friend entering the conference room ahead of Aidan. He was half out of his chair when Jamie pulled him the rest of the way up and into a back-slapping hug. “Brother,” Cam said, feeling like the missing piece of the team, of his support system, was back where it belonged.

Jamie drew Nic into a hug next. “Whatever you need.”

“Thank you,” Nic replied.

This is the final book of Cam and Nic’s story. The guys are pretty much settled into their relationship and how they feel about each other. But Nic is still waiting for the other shoe to drop as he tries building a case against his father’s — and now his — arch enemy. As Nic’s reeling from a family tragedy, a stunning secret is revealed to him that will change everything.

This book felt very much like a wrap up. We know where the guys stand with each other, and there are a few bumps but they come through for each other — no surprises there. Nic confronts parts of his past and reveals things he’s been keeping from Cam which serves to bring them closer while giving the reader some closure. And the theme of family, both blood and who you choose for yourself, is woven throughout and always gives me warm and fuzzies.

I’ll miss these guys for sure, but with new characters introduced, it won’t surprise me to see them show up again sometime.

3 pieces of eye candy

Author Layla Reyne was raised in North Carolina and now calls San Francisco home. She enjoys weaving her bi-coastal experiences into her stories, along with adrenaline-fueled suspense and heart pounding romance. When she’s not writing stories to excite her readers, she downloads too many books, watches too much television, and cooks too much food with her scientist husband, much to the delight of their smushed-face, leftover-loving dogs.

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First Strike by A.G. Carothers: Exclusive Cover Reveal, Excerpt and Giveaway

by

A.G. Carothers stopped by today to bring an exclusive cover reveal and excerpt along with a giveaway! Check out this beautiful cover by AngstyG, and don’t forget to enter! First Strike is now up for preorder, so grab it now. 

Previously on Dragon War Chronicles, our heroes recovered and were preparing to take the fight to a still unknown enemy. Meanwhile, startling breeding experiments were revealed.

Three sites are discovered in Russia that could hold all the answers they’ve been looking for. Three strike teams are assembled led by Xander, Kollin, and Tyler. Three simultaneous attacks are combined to make one devastating first strike against their hidden enemies.

What horrors will they discover? What plans will be revealed? Why is a member of the Dragon Council showing up on Danica’s doorstep with ultimatums?

Find out in the next exciting installment of Dragon War Chronicles.

Warning: This book contains explicit sexual contact between consenting adults. There are romantic, BDSM, and purely sexual relations shown that are MM and MF. There is also high sexual tension and alpha male posturing that will make you laugh and roll your eyes along with plenty of snark and definite teasing of dwarf-like dragons.

First Strike

Dragon War Chronicles, Book 3

A.G. Carothers

Release Date: 03.08.19

LGBTQ Urban Fantasy/Paranormal

COVER DESIGN: AngstyG/ https://www.facebook.com/Angstyg/

Amazon

 It was times like these Kollin wished he could breathe fire since it was flashy, but he settled on letting a great fog of icy air out then flew through it, ice crystals forming on his wings that broke off with each beat. He pulled up to the very peak of the mountain and landed. Taking in a huge breath, he reared up, stretching his neck out as far as possible letting loose a mighty roar that shook the mountain.

Danica swooped around and landed by his side, letting out her own slightly higher pitched roar that complimented his deep one perfectly. Kollin felt the vibrations of it through his body. Their roars continued even after they stopped as it echoed across the mountain range for miles all around them. Danica swung her head around looking at the sight before her. Kollin watched her closely as her eyes took in their surroundings.

It was absolutely gorgeous and breathtaking. The ocean was in the distance and she could see bits of floating ice in it. It was cold up here and despite their higher temperature she shivered a bit from the cold and the exertion of the flight. Kollin moved closer putting a wing over top of her, sharing his warmth with her. Danica nuzzled her snout up his neck in appreciation.

Danica leaned her head out, something had her attention. Kollin followed her line of sight and chuffed. Down in the valley was a lake and on one side was a small village. He breathed out a sheet of ice before them and took a talon to it.

“Our Wolves.” He scratched out.

Danica nodded in understanding. She leaned into him more heavily as her fatigue obviously started to overcome her. Before she could collapse, Kollin nudged her towards forward. She took the hint and launched off. She spiraled slowly down into the valley. Kollin launched himself into the air and followed after her.

 

 

A. G. Carothers is actually a dragon very cleverly disguised as a human. They are a non-binary author of LGBTQIA Urban/Paranormal Fantasy, who enjoys writing original and entertaining stories. They are very excited to share the worlds they’ve created with you.

A.G. currently lives in Tennessee with their platonic life partner, who is not a dragon. They yearn to live back in Europe and will someday. In their spare time they are addicted to losing themselves in the lovely worlds created by other authors.

A.G. is committed to writing the stories they see in their head without restrictions. Love is blind and doesn’t see gender, race, or sexuality.

Website: https://www.agcarothers.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AGCarothersAuthor/

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/ag_carothers

 

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