Tuesday, April 23, 2024

Cowboy Up Teaser Tuesday #rabtbooktours

 

Cowboy Romance, Age Gap, Suspense

Date Published: April 26, 2024

 

 

Mia – I ran away from home when I was seventeen and attached myself to a too-old-for-me cowboy. Then he knocked me up, slapped me around, and left me. My baby and I would have had nowhere to go, but the sweetest cowboy I’ve ever met threw me a lifeline. It was only supposed to be a marriage of convenience. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him. When life keeps throwing us one obstacle after another, I have to wonder if I made the right choice. What if I’m ruining Jackson’s life?

Jackson – I have really big shoes to fill. Not only is my dad a retired rodeo national champion, but he’s also part of the Dixie Reapers MC. He saved my mom, and he’s been my hero ever since I was a kid. So when my friend starts yelling at his girlfriend and slaps her around, I know I have to step in. Now I have a family I didn’t plan for, and I have no idea how to tell my parents. But with trouble following us no matter where we go, there’s only one place I can turn – to the Dixie Reapers – because I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my family safe.




EXCERPT


Carter’s face twisted into a snarl, his grip on the beer in his hand tightening until I feared the bottle might shatter. I should have known things would turn out this way. Although, I’d never seen him act like this with a woman before. I remained tense and ready to intervene the moment I thought he was going too far.

How many beers had he had? Five? Six? He looked completely plastered. I was thankful I’d decided to come to this rodeo. At first, I’d thought to pass and go to a different event, but when I found out Carter was heading here, something told me to follow.

Why the fuck was he doing this right by the arena? I could barely focus on my upcoming ride. A quick glance showed I needed to get moving if I wanted to make this ride count.

“You stupid little whore,” he spat, his words laced with venom and rage that made my blood run cold. “You think I’m gonna stick around and play daddy to some brat? You’re out of your Goddamn mind!”

Mia recoiled, her eyes wide with terror. Shit! If he took a swing at her, I’d have to forget my damn ride and go help her. Hold on just a bit longer.

“Jackson, it’s now or never,” said one of the cowboys waiting for me. I pulled my attention away from Carter and Mia, hoping I wasn’t making a mistake. I knew I’d ride like shit if I sat here worrying about her.

Closing my eyes, I cleared my mind, blocked out all the noise around me, adjusted my grip and gave the cowboy a nod. He opened the chute and the bronc beneath me bolted in a straight line. Bastard didn’t start bucking until we’d reached the other end of the arena. If I got a shitty score for drawing this horse, I was going to be pissed.

The horse’s hooves would pound into the dirt, then he’d go airborne again. He did his best to scrape me off on the arena fencing when he couldn’t seem to throw me. Sweat dripped into my eyes and I held on, hoping for a high enough score to at least keep my place. I was gunning for nationals and needed every point.

As the buzzer sounded, I jumped off the bronco. The moment my feet hit the arena floor, I took off for the fence. My body still hummed with energy from the ride, every muscle tense. I cleared the fence and closed the distance.

I’d never seen my friend act like this before, and it sickened me.

“Please, Carter,” she begged. “I didn’t want this to happen either, but we have to do something.”

“Then get rid of it!” he bellowed, causing heads to turn in their direction. “I don’t give a damn how, just make sure it’s gone!”

The bond between us as friends had shattered in an instant, and I couldn’t let Carter hurt Mia any further.

“Hey!” I shouted, my voice firm and commanding. “Leave her alone, Carter!”

He whipped around to face me, his eyes blazing with fury, and for a moment I saw the man I’d once considered a brother. But that fleeting glimpse disappeared as quickly as it had come, replaced by the monster he’d become. I’d like to hope it was only the alcohol, but I worried I might be seeing his true self for the first time.

“Stay out of this, Jackson!” he snarled, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “This ain’t your business!”

“Like hell it isn’t,” I shot back, my heart pounding in my chest as I positioned myself between him and Mia. “You don’t get to treat her like this, not while I’m still breathing.”

My words hung heavy in the air between us, a testament to the line we’d crossed and the friendship we’d just left behind. We stood there, two men who’d once been closer than brothers, now locked in a battle neither of us could back down from. I’d never let him, or any man, hurt a woman. Not in my presence. I’d been raised to take care of those weaker than me, and Mia definitely qualified.

“Get the hell away from her, Carter!” I demanded, my voice unwavering. She trembled behind me. I heard her suck in a breath and sniffle, which meant she was most likely crying. I felt her shaky hands press against my back.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Carter seethed, his bloodshot eyes filled with rage. He threw his beer to the ground, the glass shattering against the dirt, and clenched his fists.

“Someone who won’t stand by and watch you hurt a woman,” I replied, my pulse racing, knowing the situation was spiraling out of control.

“Stay out of it, Jackson!” Carter spat, his face contorted into a snarl. “I told you this ain’t your business!”

I shook my head, refusing to back down. “It became my business when you laid a hand on her. Or are you trying to tell me one side of her face is redder than the other for a reason besides you hitting her?”

Carter’s nostrils flared, the alcohol and anger fueling him like a wildfire. He lunged at me, swinging a wild punch aimed straight for my face. I could feel the heat of his fist as it narrowly missed me, my instincts and years of rodeo reflexes kicking in as I expertly dodged the blow.

“Is this how you want to handle things, Carter?” I asked, my heart pounding even faster now, adrenaline coursing through my veins. But before he could answer, I retaliated with a powerful punch of my own, connecting with his jaw.

“Son of a bitch!” he cursed, stumbling back a few steps, clearly stunned by the force of my blow.

“Leave her alone or I swear, I won’t hesitate to knock some sense into you,” I warned, my eyes locked onto his, showing him I meant every word.

He glared at me, his face reddening with humiliation and fury, but he didn’t make another move. His hands fisted at his sides, and I wondered if he was going to take another swing at me. The sweat dripped off my brow as I stared into Carter’s rage-filled eyes, preparing for his next move. I couldn’t afford to let my guard down -- not with Mia’s safety on the line.

“Is that all you got?” Carter snarled, wiping blood from his mouth.

“Leave her alone, Carter,” I warned, my chest heaving with the effort it took to keep my emotions in check. “This ends now.”

“Over my dead body,” he spat back, throwing another punch. But I was ready. With practiced ease, I sidestepped his attack and landed a decisive uppercut to his jaw.

He came after me again, but in his drunken state, he was no match for me. As much as I hated to hurt the man who’d once been my friend, I landed blow after blow to his ribs, gut, and face. If he’d backed down, I’d have let him go. He charged me again. I slammed my fist into his cheek.

Carter’s body crumpled to the ground like a rag doll, the fight finally drained out of him. Silence fell over the rodeo arena as everyone held their breath, waiting to see what would happen next. Shit! I hadn’t even realized everyone was watching us. Didn’t surprise me no one was stepping forward. They all wanted to watch the drama unfold, but no one wanted to take responsibility for whatever happened.

He groaned and struggled to get to his knees.

“Stay away from her, Carter,” I warned.

“Think you can tell me what to do?” he spat, his voice slurred with alcohol.

“About Mia? Yeah, I do,” I replied. “Someone needs to protect her from you. When did you become such a mean drunk?”

“Who are you to decide what’s best for her?” Carter sneered, wiping the blood from his lip as he advanced.

“Someone who won’t lay a hand on her in anger.” The alcohol had completely pickled his brain. “Go sleep it off, Carter.”

He staggered to his feet and disappeared into the crowd. I had a feeling he’d come for her again. Maybe not today, but sometime in the future. I trusted my gut, and it was telling me Mia was still in danger.

“Jackson, please,” Mia whispered, her hand on my arm. Suddenly, the noise of the surrounding chaos seemed to fade away, and all I could hear was her voice, her fear and vulnerability plain for me to see. In that moment, I realized this wasn’t just about teaching Carter a lesson. It was about showing Mia she had someone in her corner, someone who would protect her no matter what.

“Okay,” I said. “It’s over.”

I took her hand in mine, leading her away from the crowd. I might not know a lot about pregnant women, but the stress couldn’t be good for her or the baby. She needed somewhere quiet, and we both needed time to think.

“Where are we going?” Mia asked, her eyes still brimming with fear.

“Somewhere safe,” I assured her. “Away from all this. Just trust me, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed, her voice barely more than a whisper.

I could feel her body trembling as we moved through the sea of people, and I wished more than anything that I could take away her pain. But for now, all I could do was guide her toward safety, one step at a time.

“Almost there,” I murmured, my eyes scanning the area for any sign of danger. “Just keep holding on.”

 


About the Author


Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC Romances. With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde immerses her readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible women. Her works exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still managing to end on a satisfying note each time.

When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book. She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies. Visit Wylde's website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and don't forget to sign up for her newsletter to receive exclusive discounts and other exciting perks.

 

Contact Links

Author on Facebook, Instagram, & TikTok: @harleywylde


Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress


Pre-Order Today


RABT Book Tours & PR

Soft Lies and Hard Truths Week Blast #rabtbooktours


California Heart Series, Book 3

 

Contemporary Romance

Date Published: 04-17-2024

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press


 

Heartbroken and mortified by mean-spirited taunts and social media pictures of her looking like a hot mess at her ex-boyfriend’s wedding, Leah James decides to accept her friend, Miguel Montoya’s, offer to take a road trip to their hometown of Santa Lorena.

Miguel, ex-Marine turned fitness trainer, is done pretending that he doesn’t have strong feelings for Leah. From the moment he laid eyes on her, he knew she was the one, and now this trip provides the perfect opportunity to take their relationship to the next level.

Will shocking lies, deceits, and half-truths dampen the fiery sparks of passion that ignite when Leah and Miguel are forced to share a cozy honeymoon cottage, or will they overcome their fears and build a brighter future based on honesty and love?


About the Author

Dalia Dupris has been a book lover as long as she can remember. Dalia’s BA in English Literature from UCLA and Master’s degree in Social Work, from the University of Southern California, in addition to years of experience as a licensed psychotherapist, contribute to her creation of relatable and complex characters.

In her spare time, she enjoys bike riding along the California coast with her husband, and hiking with her daughter. She loves hearing from her readers. Their words of encouragement inspire her to continue creating memorable characters, who will make you laugh and cry and keep rooting for them until the very last page. Subscribe to her website for a chance to learn more about Dalia and her books.

 

Contact Links

Linktr.ee

Website

Facebook

Twitter @dalia_dupris

Goodreads

Instagram

TikTok: @daliadupris8

 

Purchase Today



a Rafflecopter giveaway 


RABT Book Tours & PR

Monday, April 22, 2024

Beyond Stonebridge Release Blitz #rabtbooktours

 

Ghost Story Romance

Date Published: 04-22-2024

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press


 

In this sequel to Stonebridge, it is 1959, and Rynna Wyatt's abusive husband Jason has fallen to his death after a fight with his bookish, disabled cousin Ted Demeray. The police would like to know exactly what happened, but Ted and Rynna can't tell the whole truth. Jason's death doesn't end his relationship with them either. Rynna is pregnant with his child and traumatized by his abuse. She and Ted leave Stonebridge Manor to start a new life in Brenford, where Ted teaches geology at the university, but Jason's restless spirit follows them and continues to haunt Rynna's dreams. He wants her back. He wants revenge. And he wants his son. Can Ted and Rynna find a way to oppose his claims and finally put him to rest?

 

About the Author

I knew I wanted to be a "book maker" as soon as I learned to read, and I wrote my first story, "Judy and the Fairies," at the age of six. My passion for the printed word also led me to a career with the San Diego Public Library. I retired to spend more time on my writing and have had stories of every length from short shorts to novellas published in numerous literary journals. Beyond Stonebridge is my ninth book from the Wild Rose Press. In addition to the three R's--reading, writing, and research--I enjoy travel, movies, Scrabble, and visiting museums and art galleries.


Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Twitter

Goodreads

Pinterest

Instagram

Youtube

 

Purchase Links

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

iBooks

Etsy

 

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway 


RABT Book Tours & PR

A Cure for Spring Fever Book Blast #GoddessFish



This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will award a $25 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.


For centuries, Gamekeepers have used their magical abilities to create a buffer between the creatures who dwell in the enchanted forest and the sleepy coastal town that sits in its shadow. When Gamekeeper Stan Ross’s magic begins to fail, he must find out what went wrong, then fix it before the two worlds collide. His hit or miss magic has already led to a few close calls so he journeys to the Sacred Isle searching for answers and advice. Finding a cure proves elusive—until Stan encounters a kitchen witch who captivates him body and soul. Lynnette Peters is healing from her own wounds, however, and it isn’t clear whether she’s ready to open herself to the possibility—or the peril—of love.



Read an Excerpt

“I’m not sick, sir” Stan answered, uncomfortable with where the conversation was heading. He swallowed, then cleared his throat. “I haven’t changed the way I cast a ward. My magic is elemental, so I rely on nature runes, overlaid with those representing broader concepts. I might choose an animal rune, or a rune representing a natural element. It depends on the creature I’m warding, and what its habits are. Once I have the base rune, I add on layers, and then finish it with something representing strength or luck. I guess I’m in a bit of a rut. My magic is feeling tired, lately. When it works, it doesn’t have the same staying power, and sometimes it just doesn’t work at all.”

Tapping his fingers on the desk, Covington regarded Stan with sympathy, then nodded. “You’re certainly not the first gamekeeper to hit a rut, and you won’t be the last. I think that a little bit of rest and relaxation is what’s needed here. I am going to suggest—no, I’m going to insist—that you take some time off and recharge your batteries. Meanwhile, I’ll give some thought to damage control."

Stan dipped his head in acknowledgment, but his posture was rigid as he exited the office. Finding his partner in the break room, Stan told him that Covington was taking him off the duty roster, and insisting he take some leave. “I don’t know, Owen” he said, picking dust off his sleeve and shaking his head. “I haven’t taken any vacation time in over a year, so maybe Covington has a point, but I feel like I’m more than just tired. I’m soul tired. I’m not sure that a week on my sofa with daytime TV and a tray of bonbons is going to fix anything.”

About the Author: Barbara Robinson is an author of contemporary and historical romance set against a backdrop of magical realism. She is a deep thinker and tea drinker who finds inspiration in myths and folktales, poems and ballads, and academic writing on a variety of subjects. Diagnosed with autism and giftedness as an adult, she enjoys exploring themes of neurodiversity and opposing character perspectives in her writing.

She is an avid gardener and lover of nature who works out plot lines and character sketches while nurturing her garden, walking in the woods, or sitting by the shoreline watching waves. She is known for world building that features rich and immersive detail, supported by meticulous research and careful observation.

Barbara lives in Nova Scotia, Canada, in the shadow of ancient mountains that lie along the Bay of Fundy coast. These rugged vistas shape her story settings, while providing the perfect backdrop for life with her husband, her hounds and her dragon (Pogona Vitticeps). She has a Bachelor of Arts from the University of King’s College and a Master of Arts at Dalhousie University, and she recently completed a Graduate Certificate in Creative Writing from the Humber School for Writers (Humber College, Toronto).

Website: https://www.barbararobinsonauthor.ca
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/BarbaraRobinsonWrites/

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Spring-Fever-Jelly-Beans-Things-ebook/dp/B0CVHHR5ND/ref=sr_1_1

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Sunday, April 21, 2024

Jessamine Grove Review #IndiGo

Title:  Jessamine Grove

Author: D.J. Blankenship

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 04/16/2024

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: NB/NB

Length: 72700

Genre: Contemporary, Florida, tutor, student, adoption, mystery, artist, opera singer, grief

Add to Goodreads

Description

Jessamine: any of numerous often climbing shrubs (genus Jasminum) of the olive family that usually have extremely fragrant flowers.

When professor Neil Boehm arrives at Jessamine Grove to take on the task of tutoring a precocious child, he does not know that, like the flower for which it’s named, the picturesque jazz-age estate harbors deadly secrets beneath its glamorous fa├žade.

As Neil unravels the twisted vines of Jessamine Grove’s past and the pain and suffering that were their fruits, he reexamines his own past and life choices and draws unsettling parallels between the history of the Grove and that of his own family history.

Uncovering old sins leads him to hope he can paint a brighter picture for his future.

Excerpt

Jessamine Grove
D.J. Blankenship © 2024
All Rights Reserved

December

Florentina Bay

Along with Sarah’s letter came an exquisite origami Christmas ornament. Not having a tree upon which to hang it, I attached the multicolored star to the toggle of my rucksack. Now, as I opened the bag, I admired it once more. I tried origami when I was a kid. Unfortunately, I never managed to produce anything that resembled the intended object. What other creative projects had I put my hand to? Shadow boxes, model rockets, the iconic “science project,” and finally, painting. All failures. Not for lack of intelligence or skill, but for a surfeit of impatience. I wanted everything I did to be perfect. Instantly. When it was not, I stomped on, tore up, or otherwise destroyed it.

Now, with the wisdom of maturity, I looked upon Sarah’s handiwork with more admiration than envy. I had learned to accept there were certain things I could not do—or do well—and it was a waste of time and energy to dwell on failures rather than concentrate on and hone strengths. This mindset had served me well in my career as an educator.

Sarah had bested me in artistic creativity, applying her crafty little hands successfully to everything from sewing and knitting to creating beautiful greeting cards and handbound notebooks. In her skill with, and love of, teaching, Sarah had been my equal.

As I pulled my thermos and the letter from my bag, I marveled at the passage of time. Almost thirty years since Sarah Lewis and I began work at Allerton Academy. The venerable Connecticut institution was in precarious financial straits when we were hired, holding tenaciously (or foolishly, depending on one’s perspective) to its old-fashioned curriculum and strict code of discipline while the outside world moved inexorably forward, and more successful private schools adopted contemporary education models. The anachronism of Allerton initially captured our shared romanticism—the feeling of having been hired as principles in a costume drama—and the reality of Allerton’s prestige and high standards that kept us on. From the start, Sarah and I entertained no false hopes that our honeymoon with Allerton would last forever, so we were both surprised the school managed to hang on for more than a quarter of a century.

With Allerton in its final death throes, Sarah, and I—and a few colleagues whose tenures matched or exceeded our own—faced the unenviable fate of being middle-aged and unemployed. Some, like I, chose early retirement. Others, without the luxury of a private income, scrambled to find positions commensurate with their experience working in an old-fashioned boy’s boarding school. Some found work abroad. A few, like Sarah, took positions as private tutors.

“Why?” I had asked Sarah, truly baffled.

Sarah had a promising new life awaiting her outside Allerton—a long suffering lover who had finally convinced her to accept his everlasting marriage proposal and follow him to wedded bliss and retirement in Italy. Instead, Sarah had opted for a two-year stint tutoring the precocious child of a wealthy Florida power couple.

“I can’t quit cold turkey,” Sarah reasoned. “I need some sort of transition. And I could use the extra cash. The Willoughbys are paying handsomely for the Allerton pedigree.”

When she divulged the figure, I was floored.

“Jesus. I can’t blame you for accepting. But what about Victor?”

Victor was the long-suffering boyfriend.

“His reaction was rather like yours,” she said, adding a few cubes of ice and a dash of scotch to her empty glass. “Victor has agreed to a compromise. He’s going to rent a condo nearby, and we’ll spend our holidays in Italy. When my contract is up, we’ll move for good.”

Halfway through the first year of that contract, Mrs. Willoughby passed away, and Sarah soon found herself reconsidering the wisdom of continuing in her position.

“I won’t be sad to leave this place,” Sarah had said in her letter to me, “but I worry about the boy.”

The boy. Max Willoughby.

How often, over the years, have we had that discussion about why some people choose to be parents? Ezra isn’t a bad man, really. But his parenting skills leave a lot to be desired.

Anyway, I’ve had enough. And despite his assurances to the contrary, I know Victor is getting antsy. For so many years, I used Allerton and my career to avoid a true, live-in commitment to Victor. I won’t do that anymore. I want to spend every moment of the rest of my life with the man I love.

And yet…

I don’t want to leave Max without knowing there is someone there for him. Someone to advocate for him. Someone to care for him. He’s certainly no day at the county fair, but there’s something about him. Sometimes when I’m with him I recall what you’ve told me about your own childhood. It’s the young Neil Boehm I see when Max rips up a perfectly good essay or kicks his easel to the ground when I offer the slightest constructive criticism about a work in progress. He has much creative potential but lacks a proper sense of self-worth—of confidence.

Though he denies it, the death of Mrs. Willoughby has affected Max deeply, and he turns to me more and more as a surrogate mother.

What I believe Max really needs at this stage in his life is someone who can be a mentor as well as both a mother and father figure. A buddy, a confidant. Ezra—though I do not doubt his love for his son—seems afraid of gentleness, of kindness, of, perhaps, showing himself as weak. He often forgets Max is a child, not a military cadet.

You’ve already guessed where I’m going with this, of course.

You’d start after the New Year.

Please, Neil. At least consider it seriously. Ezra has practically made up his mind to send his son to a boarding school in France. I think this would be disastrous for Max. If you agree, we’ll talk about it in more detail later.

I’ve already told Mr. Ezra about you—and he’s checked you out and is suitably impressed. And he seems, much to my feminist chagrin, to assume you would be less likely to run off and get married.

Would you? I wonder.

Details enclosed.

Love,

Sarah

I received the contract from Ezra Willoughby even before I met him via video conference. Despite the feeling I was being railroaded—gently by Sarah, imperiously by Willoughby—I accepted the offer. The charm of the lifestyle of an aging beach bum was beginning to wear off, and as much as I cherished the pleasant memories sparked by my return to Florentina Bay, other, darker memories overshadowed them and made remaining there untenable.

Allerton Academy had been my home for more than half of my adult life. Where would I live out the rest of it? Perhaps a leap of faith was in order.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Born in New York City and raised in the San Joaquin Valley of California, D.J. now divides his time between Brooklyn, New York, and Bogota, Colombia, where he lives with his husband, a cat, and a dog. D.J. has previously published under the pen name Zev de Valera.

Giveaway

One lucky winner will receive a $50.00 NineStar Press Gift Code! 


Blog Button 2


Ornery Owl's Rating

Five out of Five Stars

Professor Neil Boehm has no idea what awaits him when he agrees to take over a tutoring position which his longtime friend Sarah Lewis is vacating to marry her fiance of many years.

Neil’s charge is a brilliant but troubled boy named Max. Max is not exactly grieving the recent death of his adoptive mother with whom he had a strained relationship. There is a strange rule in place at Jessamine Grove. Max is not allowed to study music. The more Neil learns, the more he wonders if he is safe.

This modern Gothic masterpiece features an engaging slow-burn mystery and plenty of compelling characters plus closets chock full of skeletons. The story is well-constructed and easy to follow, although filled with ample twists and turns including an actual secret doorway and hidden passages. There are also plenty of red herrings along the way.

Neil finds love with a handsome private investigator named Beto Chavez, who is keeping a startling secret of his own. He also discovers notes left behind for him by Sarah, who died in an accident shortly after announcing her resignation from tutoring Max.

I highly recommend this one. It has a real classic mystery feel in the vein of Agatha Christie or Daphne Du Maurier’s Rebecca. It’s as if time stands still at Jessamine Grove.

Although there are no graphic descriptions of either sex or violence, this story is best-suited for mature audiences due to its adult subject matter.  



Friday, April 19, 2024

Last Resort Guest Post #GayBookPromotins

BLOG TOUR

Book Title: Last Resort (Treasure Trail Book 3)

Author: Morgan Brice

Publisher:  Darkwind Press

Cover Artist: Lou Harper

Release Date:  March 6, 2024

Genres: MM paranormal romance & supernatural suspense

Tropes: moving in together, second chance at love, healing from the past, dealing with past issues, hurt/comfort

Themes: evolving relationship, learning to trust, forgiving yourself, letting go of the past

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 216 pages

It’s the third book in the series, but can be read as a standalone It does not end on a cliffhanger

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

Kobo  |  Nook/B&N

Can Ben and Erik put the pieces together to solve the case, or when the cards are dealt, will they be left holding the dead man's hand

Blurb 

Weird things are happening again in Cape May and the ghosts of old mobsters never rest easy.


Erik Mitchell gets a strange delivery of antique poker chips with odd markings tied to a casino that burned a century ago. Ben Nolan finds a dead guy in one of his rental units—turns out the guy's been missing for twenty years and is linked to a long-lost treasure.

The ghostly energy of the old Commodore Wilson hotel juices up all the town's spirits, and a stranger shows up with an unhealthy interest in both cases. Ben and Erik have just moved in together, and they're still navigating the next step as partners and blending their lives.

Murder, missing persons, hidden treasure, and haunted poker chips. Can Ben and Erik put the pieces together to solve the case, or when the cards are dealt, will they be left holding the dead man's hand?

Last Resort is a suspenseful MM paranormal romance mystery-adventure filled with second chance love, hurt/comfort, true soulmates, old curses, hidden treasure, dangerous secrets, restless ghosts, psychic visions, powerful witches, angry mobsters, and a very haunted hotel.

Excerpt 

“This brings back memories.” Ben Nolan and his partner carried the last boxes up the stairs. “I spent too many Saturdays in my twenties helping my friends move in and out of apartments for free pizza and beer.”

“Look at it as a built-in fitness workout,” Erik Mitchell, his boyfriend, replied. “The good thing is that most days, you don’t need to go up and down more than once.”

“I’m sure I can come up with reasons to stay in.” Ben dripped his voice to a sexy growl and gave Erik a knowing look.

Erik shook his head fondly. “Sounds good—but we still need to go to work sometime.”

Erik owned Trinkets, the antique shop in the first floor of the old Victorian house where their apartment took up the second level. “Can’t beat the commute,” he added.”

“True—and mine’s still totally walkable unless the weather is foul.” Ben managed Nolan Resort Real Estate, owned by his aunt and uncle. Until recently, he had stayed in one of the company’s rentals. Ben had moved in with Erik a few months ago, but forgotten about a stack of boxes that were still stored in Trinkets’ back room.

The important stuff had already found a place in the apartment. Now Ben needed to figure out what in these last boxes to keep or toss. He’d packed long enough ago that he had forgotten what remained.

“Actually, I was surprised how fast I got used to the stairs,” Erik told him. “My place in Atlanta had an elevator, but nowhere near the charm.”

Both Ben and Erik had recently moved to Cape May, New Jersey to make a fresh start after their old lives went off the rails. Ben stepped away from being a Newark cop after a betrayal and a near-fatal shooting, and becoming a private investigator had left him burned out and bitter. Erik left his high-profile work stopping art fraud and antiquities smugglers when a bust gone wrong nearly got him killed—and his boyfriend cheated. Differing circumstances led them to Cape May and chance brought them together, but Ben thanked his lucky stars every day for how things had turned out.

“Now we just have to figure out what’s worth keeping.” Ben surveyed the stacks of boxes in the living room. “We already have an interesting decorating style.”

They had found a quirky way to blend his statues of Spider-Man and Optimus Prime and wall art of some of his favorite comics and sci-fi movies with Erik’s more traditional taste, honed by his work for art museums.

“Bring it on,” Erik said with a laugh. “It’s good to shake things up.”

Ben reeled him in for a kiss. “I can think of ways to get a whole lotta shakin’ going on,” he growled.

Erik kissed him and stepped away. “Hold that thought. We need to be able to navigate through the living room, so the boxes can’t stay—which means unpacking.”

“Spoil sport,” Ben grumbled good-naturedly.

About the Author

Morgan Brice is the romance pen name of bestselling author Gail Z. Martin. Morgan writes urban fantasy male/male paranormal romance, with plenty of action, adventure and supernatural thrills to go with the happily ever after. Gail writes epic fantasy and urban fantasy, and together with co-author hubby Larry N. Martin, steampunk and comedic horror, all of which have less romance, more explosions. Characters from her Gail books make frequent appearances in secondary roles in her Morgan books, and vice versa.

On the rare occasions Morgan isn’t writing, she’s either reading, cooking, or spoiling two very pampered dogs.

Series include Witchbane, Badlands, Treasure Trail, Kings of the Mountain and Fox Hollow. Watch for more in these series, plus new series coming soon!

Author Links

Website  |  Audible Profile  |  Amazon profile

Facebook Group  |   Facebook Page

  Pinterest (for Morgan and Gail)  |  Twitter    

 BookBub  |  Instagram

Sign up for my newsletter and never miss a new release

Read a copy of my Badlands short story Restless Nights here for free

Giveaway

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

a $10 Amazon gift card

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

Five things I learned while writing this book/series.

  1. I discovered Cape May, NJ when our daughter chose that location for her wedding. I’d never been there before we went to help scout venues, but as soon as I saw the town I knew it had to be part of one of my series!

  2. I knew someone who had gone to the Christian Admiral Hotel long ago, and was intrigued by its strange and rather cursed history. Absolutely had to give it an important role in the series (renamed as the Commodore Wilson Hotel)!

  3. The shipwreck of a concrete boat is in the waters just off the coast of Cape May. It really was able to float!

  4. A WWII bunker remains near the Cape May lighthouse, part of the shore defenses during that time. It is decommissioned and not open to the public, but that didn’t stop me from using it.

  5. A large convent on the waterfront just was deconsecrated and sold. So of course it had to become a half-way house for spirits who aren’t sure they are ready to move on!

Arcane Kiss Book Blitz #rabtbooktours

 

Alternative Universe, Paranormal Women’s Fiction

Date Published: Apri 12, 2024

 

 

Kurt Briggs has a spirit link to a tiger Familiar that gives him superhuman abilities, but when his father is murdered, the military veteran becomes a target for terrorist sorcerers. Alone, Kurt finds he's no match for the witch and her shape-shifting polar bear. He turns to Arcanist Genevieve Reyes for help in fighting the killers' spells.

As Genevieve and Kurt hunt the terrorists, shared danger leads to shared desire. But they soon realize Kurt's passion for Gen weakens his control over his cat. The consequences could be deadly for them both. Genevieve is attracted to Kurt's animal sensuality, but she knows she may be in as much danger from his tiger as she is from the terrorists.

Even if Kurt and Gen manage to stop the terrorists, their evil sorcery may trigger a witch hunt that could mean the destruction of everyone with magical Talent -- including Kurt and Genevieve.




EXCERPT


The tiger bounded toward him in a blur of striped fur and powerful muscle. Kurt Briggs braced himself as the big cat reared to thump huge paws down on his shoulders. Somehow he managed not to fall on his ass, though eight feet of cat made an awkward dance partner. Rumbling, the beast touched a cool, damp nose to Kurt’s.

“Hi to you, too, Stoli.” Kurt dug his fingers in thick reddish gold fur to give his Familiar a scratch.

Golden eyes narrowed in feline ecstasy and Stoli chuffed a greeting. The tiger dropped to all fours again, and turned toward the lake with a flick of his striped tail. Kurt strolled after him across the thick grass.

Through the trees ahead Kurt spotted the flickering glint of afternoon sunlight on water -- the spring-fed lake that lay at the heart of Briggs Feral Sanctuary. Another tiger lounged in the shallows, six hundred pounds of stripes, attitude and luminous golden eyes.

Dave gave them a lazy blink, indolent as a pasha. And like a pasha, he apparently had a harem -- or at least a gang of devoted fans. Ten female volunteers clustered just outside the enclosure fence as close as they dared get. Dressed in shorts, hats and T-shirts with the BFS lion logo, they all wore grins of anticipation as they waited for him to do something amazing. Or, knowing Dave, inappropriate.

Stoli catapulted off the bank, sailed through the air, and landed on the other cat with a huge splash. The volunteers fled the arcing water, yelping and laughing.

Dave roared, batting at Stoli’s nose with sheathed claws. “Back off, Tigger! Do I look like fuckin’ Pooh Bear to you?”

Stoli raced off, chuffing like a giggling ten-year-old who’d pranked his brother. Which was exactly what he was. The two cats had been littermates before they’d melded with their human partners. Otherwise they couldn’t have shared an enclosure. Their fights would have been real.

“You’d better run, asshole! I’ll turn you into a rug!” Dave flopped back down in the water with a huff of feline disdain. “The crap I put up with.”

Kurt’s grin faded. Dave did indeed put up with a hell of a lot. A year ago he’d been Dave Frost, a member of Kurt’s Arcane Corps unit -- a tall, lanky blond with a wicked sense of humor. But that was before Dave had died, leaving his soul trapped in the body of Smilodon, his Familiar.

Another man might have surrendered to bitterness and grief for his lost humanity. Dave taught himself to talk by making the air vibrate with magic instead of human vocal cords. Now he was building a thriving career as a YouTube smartass.

“You got me all wet,” a blonde volunteer complained, pretending to pout as she pulled at her soaked shirt.

The tiger gave her a toothy grin. “My pleasure.”

“Ladies, quit flirting with the wildlife and finish cleaning the enclosures.” Kurt put a little subsonic rumble in his voice. Dave wasn’t the only one who could manipulate sound with his magic. “We don’t want BFS to smell like the world’s biggest litter box.”

“Killjoy,” Dave complained.

“You heard the man.” Karla Morgen, the volunteer coordinator, made a shooing gesture at the women. “The poop won’t scoop itself.”

“You know,” Kurt told Dave as the volunteers scattered, “you couldn’t be any more a ham if you were Porky Pig.”

“How else would I bring home the bacon?” Dave flicked a paw, and an invisible snare drum banged out a rimshot.

Kurt laughed. “You’re getting scary with the magical sound effects.”

“I live to terrify. Speaking of performances, how many tickets did we sell last night? Looked like every inch of the arena bleachers had somebody’s butt on it.”

“Pretty much.” BFS’s Feral 101 show was designed to educate sanctuary visitors about big cats. They’d livened it up with a demonstration of Feral abilities, but the material had still been as dry as sawdust -- until Dave had taken the emcee job in his capable paws. “We brought in five thousand in ticket sales and donations, plus another thousand for selfies and souvenirs.”

And they needed every dime. Keeping fifty-nine exotic cats fed and healthy wasn’t something you did on a shoestring.

Dave gave him a smug smile. “I has skillz. I also has half a million followers.”

“You’re just lucky they don’t know what an asshole you are.”

“I’m a tiger. We’re supposed to be assholes.”

Movement across the lake drew Kurt’s attention. In the next enclosure, a lion came to the water’s edge, accompanied by his two lionesses. Staring at the tigers, the Familiar roared.

 

About the Author

New York Times best-selling author Angela Knight has written and published more than sixty novels, novellas, and ebooks, including the Mageverse and Merlin’s Legacy series. With a career spanning more than two decades, Romantic Times Bookclub Magazine has awarded her their Career Achievement award in Paranormal Romance, as well as two Reviewers’ Choice awards for Best Erotic Romance and Best Werewolf Romance.

Angela is currently a writer, editor, and cover artist for Changeling Press LLC. She also teaches online writing courses. Besides her fiction work, Angela’s writing career includes a decade as an award-winning South Carolina newspaper reporter. She lives in South Carolina with her husband, Michael, a thirty-year police veteran and detective with a local police department.

 

Contact Links

Author’s Website

Author on Facebook

Author on Twitter

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress

 

Purchase Today



RABT Book Tours & PR