Showing posts with label m/m romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label m/m romance. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 3, 2026

Impulse Caught Teaser #rabtbooktours


A Sticks & Stones Romance

Marisburg Chronicles 9


M/M Romance Suspense

Date Published: March 6, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press



Riku takes charge in bed, but will he have any control over the day-to-day decisions of a marriage?

Money and status differences challenge Riku and Theo to find a middle ground. Their passion is white-hot, but their ideas of living comfortably are at odds. As their wedding nears, driven forward by Theo’s parents’ sense of guilt, Riku feels the old urge to run.

Riku refuses to give into this impulse at first, but as the comparison between his emotional scars and the mountains of Theo’s familial expectations grow, Riku fears running will be the only less-than-honorable course left to him.

Theo isn’t blind to Riku’s struggles but he doesn’t understand what’s wrong. Each time he reaches out, Riku reaches back, yet they never quite connect. Will their need for each other overcome their differences, or will their passion be subsumed by a wave of conflicting desires?



Excerpt


It was the day after the children had left for the summer. There would be ESY, of course, extended school year, but Riku hadn’t been asked to participate. He’d only been a teacher at the Colton school for the deaf since January, so it made sense he wouldn’t be first pick for ESY. He would have normally chewed over that until he was ill, but since Theo had gone back to work in February, they were living relatively comfortably. Riku’s student loans still put a squeeze on him, but he could manage without panicking.

He was sorting through papers posted on the walls. Most of them had gone home with their makers yesterday, but there were a few that hadn’t been collected. These he grouped into a folder he marked “leftover assignments” and stored for early September.

He glanced toward where Theo was wiping down desks, and Riku had to catch his breath. His fiancé was dressed in casual clothes, but he looked like a Greek statue come to life. Attired in a green T-shirt and jeans shorts, he looked younger than he was because of the cutoffs, but not like jailbait. He was thirty-two, having gained another year in mid-April. Unfortunately, Riku had also aged a year, so they were still a decade apart.

The brush of Theo’s medium brown hair on his green-clad shoulders made Riku think of a book he’d read in high school. It had been about a man who could sing magic into the world. His hair had been red as his Irish heritage, but the physical differences didn’t matter. Theo could definitely have sung magic into Riku’s heart, or anywhere else he chose. His broad shoulders stretched the T-shirt over his pectorals and his shorts showed off his long, muscular legs.

If they weren’t at school, Riku would have suggested they quit working and go goof off instead. Unfortunately, they weren’t in their rented room in Marisburg.

Turning his attention back to his chosen task, he went to the bookshelf and started organizing the books. Ninety percent of the books were in print, but the remaining ones were in print and braille, for his students who, like Theo, had Usher Syndrome or other hearing/vision challenges. He wasn’t the braille teacher, could barely feel the dots under his fingers, truth be told. Still, he liked the idea of providing all kinds of different access to literature. Probably that was part of what made him an effective English teacher.

With his back to Theo as he organized the books, he reflected that today most likely wouldn’t see the two of them making love.

Half a year ago, Theo’s parents, courtesy of his father’s quick tongue, had alienated themselves from their son. Mr. Billings had told Theo that if he could prove himself self-sufficient for six months, he would be welcomed back into the familial fold. Theo’s father had apologized, all but falling over his words in an attempt to retreat from the ultimatum but Theo had taken up the challenge.

Now it was the end of that six months. Theo hadn’t been out of communication with his parents, but certain topics, like his relationship with Riku, had been off-limits. As had his access to the family fortunes.

Theo had been, for the past six months, surviving on his own brilliant mind and on his ability to work from anywhere. Today, though, Theo would be reopening full communication with his parents.

Riku wasn’t sure if he should be dreading that time as much as he was.

It wasn’t that Theo hadn’t been talking to his parents. He just hadn’t accepted any monetary handouts from them, and he’d refused to discuss his relationship with Riku. It was easy to trust him, to believe he had suspended those ties temporarily. Theo was prideful and wouldn’t bend. Besides, the two of them had engaged in actual arguments about money, like any other couple.

Riku found himself smiling. Those fights had always ended in makeup sex, almost like they were a new kind of foreplay. He hadn’t always won the arguments, like the one they’d had about moving out of his ex’s house and into a rented room.

To save on money, he’d wanted to stay “just a little longer” despite the fact that they’d been sleeping on an air mattress in his ex’s living room. The word “uncomfortable” didn’t begin to define that situation but it had felt safe because Riku had been able to pay bills without worrying where he would rest at night.

Theo had ultimately been the hero of that fight because he’d shown Riku how selfish he was being. His lover had managed it without making Riku feel bad, which was almost a miracle.

So, why was he so tangled up about bringing the Billings parents back into the picture? They’d apologized for calling him Theo’s Asian fetish, which was apparently the worst offense in their eyes. Shouldn’t he forgive them?

No, he thought. There’s an essential disconnect between how I view the world and how they do. We can’t resolve that.

Hands closed on his shoulders, and he realized he’d been standing still instead of cleaning. He relaxed into the familiar touch of Theo’s skilled fingers as Theo began massaging his shoulders and that spot where he carried ninety percent of his tension, which was at the base of his skull. He must have been unmoving for quite a while because Theo, partially deaf and visually impaired as well, sometimes missed things that happened around him. He’d noticed today, though.

Riku turned and Theo dropped one hand into Riku’s palm. He signed, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m borrowing trouble,” he said and signed. He caught the light playing over Theo’s hair and reached up to touch a lock that had fallen in front of Theo’s eyes. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

“Thank you.” He laughed. “I do know, but I also am aware that you’re avoiding talking about whatever’s bothering you. What’s wrong?”

Riku shook his head, remembered Theo might not be able to see that, and answered, “I don’t want to talk about it here.”

“Maybe we should go home, and we should resume this cleaning tomorrow?”

He didn’t want to go back to the rented room and face Theo’s parents. “I’d better finish up here or it’s going to drag on all summer.”

“By yourself?”

“You can go back if you want,” Riku offered.

“Why don’t I stay with you, keep you out of your head?”

Riku hugged him, feeling the warmth of Theo’s skin on his forehead as he leaned against him. “I love you. Thank you for understanding how much I need you to be with me right now.”

Theo kissed him, angling his head so their noses didn’t bump. “I love you.” He smacked Riku’s hip lightly. “Now. Let’s get cleaning. I don’t just love you.” He signed into Riku’s hand. “I crave your touch.”

“And my mouth, I hope,” Riku signed back. “I’ve wanted to taste you for days.”

 

About the Author

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender women’s speculative fiction. Seeking a world made of equality, she created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires. And in the contemporary world she’s named “Sticks & Stones,” Emily has vowed to create small towns where prejudice is challenged by a passionate quest for equality. Find her on Facebook at Shapeshifter Central or on her website.

 

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RABT Book Tours & PR

Thursday, February 12, 2026

And Call Me Teaser #rabtbooktours




Friends to Lovers Medical Romance


M/M Romance

Date Published: February 13, 2026


Need a prescription for love? Take two, and call me in the morning.


And Call Me in the Morning: Eli and Zane. Yes, they spend a lot of time together. That doesn’t mean they’re a real couple. When teased about it one too many times by their colleagues, Zane challenges Eli to set the record straight with a kiss to prove there’s absolutely no chemistry between them. Neither expected a spark to ignite between them. More than a spark. Truth be told, Eli’s not so sure they can set the record straight after all.

And Call Me in the Evening: Eli’s still not great at wearing his heart on his sleeve and Zane’s still got trust issues, but they manage just fine. It’s all good. Right? Yes and no. Eli’s ex-wife Marybeth has come back to town, bringing a heaping helping of hassle with her. There’s something to be said for setting the story straight, it’s true. Eli knows he and Zane have a good thing going even if keeping it that way is the hardest -- and best -- part.


Excerpt
Copyright ©2026 Will Okati

Falling in love with his closest friend had never been something Eli planned to do with his life. Wasn’t as if he could have stopped it, though.

Sometimes love just happened.

Even if it took him a while to figure that out.

* * *

“There you are.” Zane laid down the heavy, ivory-colored menu he’d been idly flipping through as Eli approached, making his way through the maze of tables at their regular bistro. “I almost thought you weren’t going to make it.”

Eli sat with a thump, running his hand through his dark brown hair, cut short but still quite capable of standing on end. He grimaced when he discovered he’d forgotten his stethoscope, still wound around his neck.

“Long night?” Zane asked, already waving their server over with the universal “coffee here” gesture.

Eli relaxed and let Zane take care of him. Some days, a man truly appreciated a friend who’d have his back when he needed a rock to shore up against. “Long, long night. Three-car pileup at an intersection. I didn’t want to leave before everyone was stable.”

“That’s my boy.” Zane shifted out of the way to let their server pour Eli’s cup. She was a pretty thing, well packed into her curves -- curves that she offered not so subtly for display.

Zane ignored them. He’d taken Eli’s face in his hands and begun to assess him for signs of exhaustion. The guy had good hands, firm and dry and dexterous. They felt nice and cool against Eli’s skin. He let Eli go with a light slap to the cheek. “Your eyes look like burned holes in a blanket. You should go home and get some rest.”

“Like I’d miss a chance at a fine, elegant brunch?” Eli rolled his eyes.

“Heaven forbid.” Zane gave good deadpan. “Jeez. This is the kind of place I fear running into my family.” How moneyed Zane’s family was, Eli didn’t know. Coming from an ivory tower was a sore spot for Zane, who much preferred the life he’d chosen in a grittier world.

Eli segued to spare Zane any discomfort. What were friends for, right? “You were on last night too. How’d you manage to get away in time for a shower and a sharp morning suit?”

“Questions, questions.” The corners of Zane’s eyes crinkled when he smiled. “Unlike some of us, I leave when my shift’s done.”

“Since when? You’re as much of a workaholic as I am, if not more. A hospitalist’s work is never done, especially at Immaculate Grace. What was I thinking when I chose that as a career, anyway?”

“That you’re a glutton for punishment?”

“True enough.” Eli drank deeply of his coffee, almost moaning in appreciation. The influx of better-than-decent caffeine stimulated his brain. “Before I forget, I got those concert tickets you begged me for. Two, even.” He patted his dark brown shirt pocket. Plain clothes for a plain man, built tough to last, Chicago born and bred for forty-three years.

Unlike Zane, who looked as fresh as a daisy in a casual white linen jacket, pale violet button-down, and pressed slacks. Pretty as a picture, coming across as maybe five years younger than his forty-one. Zane brightened and made a grab. “Good seats?”

“I’m told they’re the best. Ah-ah-ah.” Eli tapped his pocket again. “I also got advance tickets for a Cubs game when the season starts. Fair is fair. I try not to fall asleep during the chorale or chamber music or whatever you want to call it, and you endure beer, umpire heckling, and giant foam fingers.”

“Done and done. You drive a hard bargain.” Zane clinked coffee cups with Eli. He hadn’t looked away once, but Eli liked that about Zane. When he gave you his full attention, nothing else seemed to matter to him. All part of the Zane package, and it made him the best doctor Eli had known. “I --” He stopped, interrupted by the chiming of his pager. When he checked the number, he grimaced. “Damn. Sorry, I’ve got to take this. Keep that warm for me.”

“What did I tell you? Workaholic. Hey! Do not let them talk you into coming back to the hospital today.”

Zane waved backward at Eli as he walked off. Eli watched him go, amused.

A different server, young and male, approached with the coffeepot. Eli suspected the waitress had gotten fed up with flirting and traded off. Fine by him. This kid had a good eye for refills. He held his cup up. “Keep it coming, but we’re not ordering yet. Still waiting for two.”

And they’d better hurry, if they know what’s good for them.

Eli wasn’t a huge fan of this bistro. Without Zane there to provide a buffer, the place was too rich for his blood. Made him feel like any second someone with a pedigree was going to jump out from behind a column and ask him what a working-class stiff like him thought he was doing here.

“Of course, sir. I’m sorry if I’m being rude,” the waiter said, deftly pouring. “If I could ask -- you two make such a handsome couple. How long have you been together?”

Not this again. Eli didn’t even have to ask what the kid meant. Wasn’t the first time he and Zane had been mistaken for a couple, and he’d bet his hard-earned MD it wouldn’t be the last. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but we’re not.”

The waiter’s coffeepot slipped. “You’re not -- oh. Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

“No problem.” Eli waved him off before the kid could apologize again. He’d almost gotten used to the assumption. Whatever people saw in Zane and him, he had no idea. Felt like being on the shooting range sometimes, as many assumptions made about them as they had to dodge. Once corrected, strangers were mostly good about apologizing and moving on.

Friends of theirs, on the other hand, were not so accommodating.

“We made it!” Diana and Holly -- also doctors, both familiar faces at Immaculate Heart -- swarmed the table in a cloud of perfume and joie de vivre. With them, more hesitantly, came a fresh-faced kid Eli vaguely recognized as an intern. The ladies dove into the fresh baguettes and cherry jam their new waiter discreetly slid onto the table before exiting at speed, stage left.

Eli stayed well back from the carnage. Friends they might be, but Holly and Diana -- well, it was best to stay on your toes around them. “Who’s the boy toy?”

Holly, a pale, Nordic-type blonde, swatted Eli’s arm. “Be nice. Taye’s been at work for almost twenty-four hours. He deserved a break, so we brought him along to give him a treat.”

Eli didn’t doubt she spoke the truth. The intern was gray with exhaustion and had bags under his eyes big enough to carry the US mail. For all that, he wasn’t bad-looking. If you noticed male attributes, that was. A well-shaped face and a kind mouth, reddish gold hair cut short and sleek. Eli could tell he was probably handsome given the way Diana eyed him with impressively dirty intent.

“Really?” Eli nudged Diana under the table.

Diana, forty-two and unashamed, attractive in a gamine sort of way, wrinkled her nose at Eli. A damned fine cardiologist and an innovator in her field, she had the sense of humor of a collegiate and saw no point in growing old gracefully. She nudged back, and ouch, she was wearing pointy-toed shoes. “Bah humbug.”

Taye watched them with big eyes. “Is there something going on here that I should know about?”

“Not a thing,” Diana said. Butter wouldn’t have melted between her cherry red lips. She stole Eli’s coffee and sipped demurely.

Holly petted Taye’s hair. “It’s all right, Taye. No one here’s going to bite.”

Taye cracked a grin. “Right. It’s just -- three doctors and me. All of you have been in medicine since I was in grade school. I’m a little nervous.”

“Shows what you know,” Eli said, jumping back into the conversation. “I just finished my residency last year.” He shrugged. “My midlife crisis came early. What can I say?”

“Seriously? But you seem so… I mean, you’re… The way you take charge, I’d thought you were an old pro.”

“Thank you. It’s never too late to teach an old dog new tricks. And before you ask, I’m forty-three.” Eli took his cup back from Diana, only to find it empty. “Wench.”

She smirked at Eli. “And don’t you forget it. So where’s your wife?”

“Right now, specifically?” Eli checked his watch, a gift from Zane when he’d been hired on as an attending. “Hell if I know. Either in Nepal with Paolo or in Paris with Neo. I lost track.” Either way, she was doing adventurous things with a man who isn’t married to his job. He couldn’t blame Marybeth. Cops made terrible husbands. When he’d decided to switch to medicine, that’d been the last straw, and he wished her well with… whoever was on the menu this week. “Enough about me.” They knew damn well he didn’t like to talk about personal business in public.

Holly and Diana exchanged glances, the secretly amused and utterly female method of communication Eli had never learned to interpret, God help him.

“Good for her. I was talking about your other wife,” Diana said around a bite of ruby jam and baguette.

“Beg pardon?”

“She means Zane,” Holly said.

That, in Eli’s opinion, was taking it too far, especially in front of a colleague Eli didn’t know. “Enough, the both of you.”

Holly ignored him serenely and put her chin in her hands. “Come to think of it, this might be the first time I’ve seen you without him in weeks.”

Eli could feel Taye watching them, fascinated. “My private life is not up for scrutiny, but for the last time, Zane and I are not together. How many times do I have to say this, and to how many people?”

“Wait, what?” Looked like Taye had forgotten his nerves. He turned to Diana instead of Eli. “Zane is Dr. Novia, right? They’re not…”

“No,” Eli said, annoyed. A flicker of motion in his peripheral vision filled him with relief. “Zane, for the love of God, would you get behind me on this?”

Diana and Holly dissolved into giggles. Zane shrugged, untroubled as ever, and took his seat. He tucked his pager away. “What are we being ridiculed for today?”

“Same old, same old,” Eli said. He passed Zane the bread and jam. “Apparently we want to jump each other’s bones.”

“An oldie, but a goodie.” Zane lifted his chin at Taye. “What are you looking at, junior?”

Taye coughed. “Nothing. Sorry.” He retreated behind a mouthful of fresh-from-the-oven baguette.

Eli had to admire Zane at work. They could have used a laser stare like Zane’s on the force back in the day. He’d have had perps pissing their pants with nothing more than a look.

Zane turned it on Diana. “Look at you, Mrs. Robinson.”

Diana possessed not the smallest trace of shame. “You wish you had my cojones.”

“True.”

Their byplay didn’t stop Holly. Nothing did, as far as Eli could tell. Hell, her husband egged her on; Eli held it in private opinion that the pair of them enjoyed more kink than a Slinky. She folded her hands beneath her chin and gave Zane her best you-can-trust-me psychotherapist face. “It just seems obvious to everyone but the pair of you.”

“It’s true,” Diana said. She started to pick through the packages of fake and real sugar, searching for Splenda. “You go to the symphony together. Ball games. Brunch, for God’s sake. And when was the last time you went out with a woman, the pair of us aside?”

Eli opened his mouth, closed it, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “So it’s been a while. I don’t have time for playing the field when I’m trying to get ahead with my career.”

“But you have time to spend with Zane,” Holly said sweetly.

Eli gave up. For the moment.

Diana didn’t. “Take, for example, the way you two are sitting. Shoulder to shoulder.”

“The table is crowded,” Eli protested. “Four-person table, five people jammed in. You’re plastered against Taye.”

Diana smiled like a cat who’d just gotten her first taste of the cream and said nothing.

Fine, that hadn’t helped. Frustrated, Eli looked to Zane for support. No luck; Zane was busy waving for more coffee all around.

Eli wasn’t an idiot. When he examined Zane through objective eyes, he could see the appeal. Zane looked closer to thirty than forty, excepting the smile lines and small sprinkling of silver in his hair, and it was a trim, fit thirty with a body he kept in tip-top shape with rigorous exercise.

Not that Eli had anything to be ashamed of on that count, either. Zane’s enthusiasm for biking and boxing had chivied Eli out of the threat of middle-aged spread and back into better shape than he’d been on the force. Handsome, fit, successful.

So yes, he noticed these things. Didn’t everybody? And so they spent most of their time together. Mankind wasn’t made to be alone. Big deal.

Zane’s beeper shrilled. He rolled his eyes to the heavens. “I’m going to take this in my car. If the waiter comes around, order for me, but no meat. As soon as we’re done here I’m going back to Immaculate Grace and carving myself a filet of intern. Not you,” he said as an aside to Taye. “You’re doing great. Keep up the good work. Eli, tell them I want the usual, okay?”

Eli didn’t let Diana or Holly ask. “Yes, I know his usual. Belgian waffle with cinnamon sugar and whipped cream, the real stuff, and a fruit salad. No strawberries.” He swatted Zane’s hip as Zane scooted behind him and away. “Don’t worry; I’ve got it covered.”

“No strawberries?” Taye asked.

“He’s allergic,” Eli said. Medicine fell outside the personal-business umbrella, and Zane considered nothing taboo anyway. Still grated Eli’s nerves a bit to answer. “I’ve never seen how allergic, but he carries an EpiPen. No sense taking chances.”

Hoping the subject would be dropped, knowing there was no way he’d get that lucky, Eli studied the menu until he could no longer ignore the women clicking their tongues at him. Approximately thirty seconds. “What?”

The women exchanged Highly Significant Looks. “Doth the gentleman protest too much?” Diana asked.

“He doth,” Holly agreed. “Let me ask you a question, Eli.”

“Since I’m well aware that I can’t stop you, please, proceed.” Eli crossed his arms and waited for it.

“How much time did you spend with your ex-wife before she took off for -- where was it again?” She shushed him before he could answer. “It’s Austria with Pieter, by the way. I actually know this, and you don’t. Now tell me: how much time do you spend with Zane?”

Eli scowled and said nothing.

Holly pounced. “You see? I’ll bet you can even tell me where Zane was night before last.”

There was no way he would win here, was there? “My place,” Eli admitted. “Takeout and Die Hard. What’s your point?”

“I think their point is that you’re all but married,” Taye said. Apparently he’d chosen sides. Good to know. For that, he would pay. “Look, I know a few things about what it’s like to love your own gender. It’s strange as hell at first.”

Diana’s face fell in a way that would have been heartbreaking if it hadn’t been ever so satisfying instead. “You’re --”

Taye blushed but kept his chin up. “Yes.”

“No disrespect to you personally intended, Taye, but can I just say ha?” Eli pointed at Holly and Diana in turn. “Your gaydar needs a tune-up.”

Diana didn’t take defeat graciously. She narrowed her eyes at Taye. “Prove it.”

“Hey.” Eli straightened. “Nobody around here has to prove anything. Diana, leave him alone.”

Taye’s color heightened. “I can fight my own battles, thanks.”

Eli held up his hands in mock surrender. “Suit yourself, tough guy.”

Maybe it was the lack of sleep followed by the powerful coffee, or maybe Taye was one of those fortunate fools who didn’t hesitate to jump in where mortals feared to tread. “Excuse me.” Taye touched the waiter’s arm as he approached, coming in on the third round of coffee refills. “Would it be all right with you if I kissed you?”

The waiter stared at him. Eli waited for the “No!”

Instead, their waiter did a quick check to make sure no managerial eyes were on him, slid his carafe onto the table, and pressed in close to Taye. “I thought you’d never ask, handsome.” He stood on tiptoe and --

Eli sighed. Holly made cooing noises that unfortunately didn’t cover up the noises of a highly enthusiastic kiss. A darker mood still shadowed Eli’s thoughts when the sound of the smacking prompted a stir in his groin.

He tapped his foot thoughtfully. All right, so maybe it’s been a longer dry spell than I’ll admit to this crowd. I’m a busy man. That doesn’t mean listening to two pretty boys make out turns me on. Or Zane. It just means I need to get laid, or at least spend a quality afternoon with my right hand.

“Is that what we’re leaving instead of a tip?” Zane made his reappearance without fanfare or notice from anyone except Eli. “If that’s the case, we should take Taye out with us more often.”

Eli chuckled. “I was just enjoying the sight of Diana proved wrong.”

Diana scowled at Taye. “He’s your boyfriend, isn’t he? No wonder you were willing to brunch instead of crash.”

“Can you blame me?” Taye kissed the waiter again, this time on the tip of his nose. “See you later, handsome.”

Was he? Eli couldn’t see the appeal, himself. Waiter-boy was shorter than Taye by at least half a foot, wiry, curly dark hair, a button nose… Okay, maybe he could see it a little. Discomfort at PDA aside, Eli was man enough to admit the pair of them were almost cute. He knew he’d be just as fidgety with a hetero couple. The last time Holly’s computer-something-or-another-engineer husband, Keith, had come along to brunch, he’d almost wanted to crawl under the table.

Not even Diana could stand up against that. She sighed and shifted fully from tigress on the hunt to full-fledged fan club member. “Worth it.”

A faint touch at his elbow drew Eli’s attention to Holly. “You see?” she asked, quiet as a mouse. A far-too-knowing mouse. “That’s the way you and Zane look at each other. You’re the only two who can’t see it.”

“Be that as it may. We’re not interested. Not homophobic, Taye, so no offense to you. You two ladies, stop going there. This is the last time I’m going to ask. We’re friends. That’s all. Leave it alone.”

Diana clicked her tongue against her teeth. Eli didn’t like the look on her face. Too suspicious by half. “Let me ask you this. How do you know there’s nothing more to it? Have you ever tried?”

Even Holly tried to shush her at that, but the damage was done. “I think we’re done here.” Eli dropped his napkin on the table and stood. “My private life is just that: private. I’ve had about enough of defending myself.”

“Like I said. Protesting too much,” Diana said. She wasn’t one to back down. Normally Eli liked that about her. Normally. Not so much now. “Look it up.”

 

About the Author

Willa Okati (AKA Will) is made of many things: imagination, coffee, stray cat hairs, daydreams, more coffee, kitchen experimentation, a passion for winter weather, a little more coffee, a whole lot of flowering plants and a lifelong love of storytelling. Will's definitely one of the quiet ones you have to watch out for, though he -- not she anymore -- is a lot less quiet these days.

 

Author Contact Links

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Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15



RABT Book Tours & PR

Tuesday, February 3, 2026

Impulse Control Teaser #rabtbooktours




Marisburg Chronicles (#8)


Romantic Suspense / LGBTQ

Date Published: February 6, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press



Spontaneity can be both exciting and terrifying for everyone involved.

When Riku ran from the trouble caused by his lover’s family, he wasn’t quite sure what he was running to. He left his beloved behind, abandoning his heart’s desire in the name of escape. Now, in a job he loves but missing that critical piece of his soul, he mourns, longing for the companionship as much as the sexual tension.

Theo has given chase, all the way across the country. He wants closure if nothing else, but that would be a terrible second choice. What he longs for is to have Riku back in his life and in his bed.

Now, with all the time and former distance between them, can Riku and Theo move past the merely physical cravings of “I missed you” to a confession of their true feelings?

 


Excerpt

Copyright ©2026 Emily Carrington

HotSpot Universal Media had taken off in the late nineties and seemed to grow exponentially every year. Theo’s parents’ company wasn’t exactly the only universal design organization that worked with people of all different abilities, but it had been one of the first to open its doors and actually make a profit.

Every time Theo had to recite that bit of historical dogma, he felt both proud and like he was rubbing his competitors’ noses in shit. He was so glad to have a job when many people with visual impairment and hearing loss couldn’t find work, but he was also profoundly aware that HUM traded as much in bad press for others as it did in good reviews.

He leaned back in the seat of the Audi and closed his eyes, effectively shutting out the world. He wore headphones that the driver could talk through to get his attention if need be, but mostly the noise cancelling was to soothe his over-stressed brain. He’d just spent four days at a conference touting the importance of the universal design company, using the catch phrase his parents’ marketing team had come up with three or four years ago: Charity begins at HUM.

He was suddenly distracted by a wet nose on his ankle. He tended to wear low-riding socks when he wasn’t in public and today was no exception. His service dog was either just shifting or she was asking for pets. He reached down without opening his eyes and found her head. He rubbed her stand-up ears affectionately. She shifted a little closer and lifted her head, giving him access to the spot under her chin. She liked to be scratched there.

Grinning, breathing out a good chunk of stress, and feeling grateful for Capitaine’s monitoring of his mood, Theo murmured, “Good girl.”

“Did you say something, sir?” Carlton asked through his headphones.

“Nope.” He felt his grin stretch. “Capitaine just needed some attention.”

“Very good, sir.”

He couldn’t break Carlton of the habit of calling him “sir.” Probably that was because the man was former military. Theo supposed it was better than not getting any respect, but the stiff interactions he had with the family’s staff made him extraordinarily self-conscious. He much preferred the occasionally awkward discussions he had with the businesspeople he worked with. Often, their responses were confused, as they were unsure how to talk to someone who was mostly deaf and losing more vision weekly, or so it seemed.

His phone rang, buzzing against his leg and sounding in his ears. He pressed a button and said, “Hello, this is Theodore Billings.” He didn’t recognize the number, but that wasn’t unusual. He got lots of random calls from folks trying to get him to fund their project or business.

“Sir, it’s Omar Jeffries. I’m sorry I’m calling from a strange number, but my cell is dead and I forgot my charger in the hotel.”

The private investigator sounded excited, or at least not as discouraged as he had during the last three conversations over the last two months. Theo sat up a little straighter and, after giving Capitaine one more pat, turned all his attention to finding out what Omar knew. “Good news?” he asked, trying to make his voice casual. He failed as a frisson of excitement bubbled up.

“I’m in Pennsyltucky and --”

Theo frowned and before he could stop himself, he asked, “Do you mean Pennsylvania?” He didn’t like unfriendly names for things. He tended to think there was too much division in the country at large.

Omar took a breath. “Yes, sir. Sorry. I’m in a rural part of the state and even if this little town is a hotbed of culture, it’s surrounded by farmland and…”

Theo heard him take another breath. Whatever he had to tell, he was letting his passion overcome his caution.

Did that mean he’d found something concrete?

“It’s a little town west of Philadelphia. Maybe an hour outside the city.”

“What’s the proof you’ve found this time?”

“Not just proof, boss. He’s actually living in a house with a gay couple. I’ve seen him, and he and the one man went out and bought him some new clothes, I think.”

Jealousy threatened to swallow Theo’s common sense then. He blurted, “Did they… Is Riku their third?”

“I don’t think so. I snuck a peek in the window when he forgot to shut the curtains. He sleeps downstairs on an inflatable mattress, although I don’t know why he doesn’t sleep on the couch that’s available.” He paused and then added, “Maybe he’s too tall to be comfortable. It’s more like a loveseat than a sofa.”

Theo’s heartbeat had picked up. He closed one hand into a loose fist and put it against his chest as hope coursed through him. “What’s he doing there?”

“I think he’s looking for work. He’s bought, or had bought for him, actually, a new suit.”

“Philadelphia… All right. I’ll get plane tickets and fly out there. What’s the name of the town?”

“It’s more like a tiny village than a town. It’s called Marisburg.”

* * *

Riku Watanabe, feeling like a caged bird, stared in horror at the orange cat fur that coated his suit jacket and trousers. “Fuck,” he whispered. He reminded himself the interview wasn’t today, that there was time to wash the clothing again, only… wasn’t at least part of the suit supposed to be dry cleaned? He couldn’t remember. He plunged his fingers into his hair and groaned. It wasn’t that he didn’t like cats, although he preferred dogs. He just didn’t need anything else to go wrong before his interview at the school for the deaf tomorrow.

Someone touched his shoulder and he jumped. He could be snuck up on easily with his limited hearing, but that didn’t mean he liked being startled. He opened his mouth to snap at Peter, remembering just in time that Peter might be able to read his lips. He was here on sufferance, or that was what it felt like, and he didn’t want to offend one of his hosts.

Since coming to Marisburg, Pennsylvania, shortly before the Christmas holiday, he’d nearly gotten himself thrown out due to rudeness on more than one occasion. He didn’t want that to happen, not with his future on the line.

Peter raised an eyebrow in inquiry and Riku shook his head, flapping his hands helplessly. Then he pointed at the suit, which he’d laid, neatly, in a cardboard box to keep it from getting dirty. Or at least that had been the vain hope.

Peter took a look and his mouth opened, releasing a sound that was loud but undeniably amused. He shut his mouth an instant later, looking embarrassed.

Riku shook his head and signed, “You’re laughing at me?”

“Do you know anything about cats?” Peter signed back. Then, without waiting for Riku to respond, he continued. “Cats love boxes. ‘If I fits, I sits,’ applies to cats. They especially love being surrounded by walls, or a semblance of walls, on all sides. That’s why cat scales in a veterinarian’s office are often squares with pretty tall sides.” He peered at the suit. “Tracks has really made himself at home. Let me get the lint rollers. At least he didn’t put any holes in the fabric.”

Peter was gone about two minutes, long enough for Riku to reconsider his frustration level. When Peter reappeared, Riku asked, his hands trembling just a little with nerves, “Would Abe give me a ride to the school, do you think?” He didn’t want to mention the rideshares and how they might not get him to his destination on time tomorrow. He wasn’t sure if asking Abe was a bigger imposition than he already assumed. If he hadn’t had to give up his car in Colorado, or stop using his credit card in Ohio, maybe he wouldn’t feel so trapped. He’d been without a job for over a year, and seven months ago he’d packed up what little he thought he could manage to use that actually belonged to him, and he’d fled East.

Swallowing hard, he watched Peter anxiously.

Peter set down both lint brushes and frowned at him. “Of course Abe will take you. The two of us may not agree with some of your spontaneous actions but we want to see you happily employed.” He paused and then added, “I mean, you know a lot about teaching English.”

Riku flushed. He’d been ranting, really, about the differences between ASL and spoken English and how learning both was a challenge for anyone, but especially for the deaf community. The languages shared much in common, but the ways they were different outnumbered the similarities.

Peter pointed at himself. “I thought ASL was the superior language, but you made me realize it’s equal to the spoken word.” He shook his head, looking rueful. “I wonder if that’s one of the reasons my wife broke up with me. She could tell I was prejudiced.”

Peter had been married before his union with Abe? Riku asked silently, then out loud, “You’re bisexual?”

Peter nodded. Then he changed the subject. “Don’t worry about Abe missing work or anything. It’s his practice, and if he needs to take off, ever, he plans for it.”

Riku sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m just anxious. I want this to go well.”

Peter’s eyes widened. It seemed a strange reaction to Riku’s words.

Glancing over his shoulder, Riku spotted the Siamese cat, who was a new addition to the Peter-and-Abe household, rubbing his cheek against the box. Riku hurried over to rescue his suit before it had cream-colored hairs on it too.

Peter handed him one of the de-furring brushes. He set his down for a moment and then signed, “Breathe. You’re going to do a great job tomorrow. As for your suit, we’ll hang it in the hall closet and keep the door shut.”

Grateful, Riku nodded and the two of them set about cleaning off the inordinate amount of cat fur.

As he worked, though, Riku’s thoughts turned, as they often had since he’d left San Francisco, to the life he’d abandoned. He’d had few acquaintances that weren’t hangers-on, wanting a handout from Theo, but he’d had his lover. That had, largely, been enough. Not because he was a hermit by choice but because most of his interactions with others had been online. There had been enough drama in the deaf community to keep people entertained for years, and in the deafblind circles where Theo sometimes ran, all anyone seemed to be able to do was talk about each other. Theo had once explained that tendency with “many don’t have access to the technology that would make reading the news or keeping up with other current events possible, so, being human, they talk about what they know -- other humans.”

Riku was taking care of the trousers, removing stripes of furry orange from the dark blue fabric while he chewed over why he missed his old life so much. It wasn’t just that he’d had a consistent roof over his head. It wasn’t the creature comforts, although there had been plenty of those. It was the quiet evenings, snuggled up with Theo while his lover read over applications. It was the passionate sex and the post-coital cuddles and kisses.

Was he simply dwelling on the good things he’d left behind? Well, yes...

 


About the Author

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender women’s speculative fiction. Seeking a world made of equality, she created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires. And in the contemporary world she’s named “Sticks & Stones,” Emily has vowed to create small towns where prejudice is challenged by a passionate quest for equality. Find her on Facebook at Shapeshifter Central or on her website.

 

Author’s Website

Emily on Facebook

Emily on Twitter

 

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

Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15

 

Pre-Order Today


RABT Book Tours & PR

Tuesday, January 13, 2026

Tilthos Pack Teaser #rabtbooktours




LGBTQ, Dark Fantasy, Shifters

Date Published: January 16 2026

 


Lovers who have stood the test of time find themselves on unsteady ground. Can their love prevail despite the terror working its way through the pack?

 

Wedding a Genie: Mark and Luke are getting married… or are they? Mark’s pride may not allow him to show how he feels to a roomful of his nearest and dearest.

The Mating Ceremony: Ethan and Jeremy have been forced into a mating ceremony. Can their love survive their pack traditions?

The Separation: Separated by hundreds of miles and a promise, Charlie and Luis long for each other. Will their love survive?

A Solstice Sundering: When Ethan is ordered back to the pack, his strained relationship with Jeremy comes to the forefront. Can they weather this storm?

Uncertain Foundations: Lovers who have stood the test of time find themselves on unsteady ground. Can their love prevail?



Excerpt from Wedding a Genie

 

Mark paced. He was dressed, finally, in his coat and tie, his hair tamed. He looked almost the same as he did every day for work, except this was a tux, not just a suit. And it wasn’t black, like the majority of his dress clothes. Luke had picked out a soft brown garment that complemented Mark’s deep tan and his dark brown hair. The tie he wore was the same blue as his eyes. The tie clip, which he hadn’t even known was a thing until Luke produced it, was golden and in the shape of a dragon.

He looked good.

But he longed to rip off all his clothes and go for a swim in the Gulf of Mexico.

Someone knocked on the door to the “groom’s” changing room on the boat he and Luke had rented for their wedding. Mark quit pacing and forced his hands not to shake. “Come in.”

His brother, Jonathan, stepped in and shut the door. “Are you all right?”

Mark scowled. “Why?”

To his surprise, Jonathan didn’t snap right back. “Because I was nervous as hell when I got married to Becca,” he said quietly “And you haven’t known Luke half as long as I knew Becca before I proposed.

“Besides, Mark,” he added, “I know you. Making a change like this is difficult at the best of times and you’ve just been promoted. You’re trying to get your feet under you.”

Mark let out a long sigh. “You’re right, I’m nervous. I love him, I want to be with him for the rest of my life. Why am I so jittery?”

“Like I said, it’s a big change.” Jonathan turned for the door.

“That’s it? You’re going to come in here, confront me about my nerves, and then just walk out?”

“You’re calmer now,” Jonathan pointed out.

Mark huffed a laugh. “I still want to go for a swim in the gulf.”

“As long as you get back here in time to dry yourself off, I don’t see why that’s a problem. It’s almost an hour before…” Jonathan tilted his head and said, “Or maybe Luke’s presence would help.”

Mark’s tension rocketed up from a five all the way to a ten. “Luke?” he squeaked.

Jonathan left the room and Luke stood in the doorway with two tall glasses in his hands. “I know we’re not supposed to see each other before the wedding,” Luke said, sounding apologetic. “But do you mind if I come in?”

Mark took two steps back and gestured his soon-to-be-husband inside. Luke used his magic to close the door without touching it.

“Showoff,” Mark teased weakly.

“Genie prerogative,” Luke answered. He took a sip from the glass in his left hand and offered Mark the other one.

It was a rum and Coke; Mark sensed that even before he could smell the contents. Luke knew what relaxed him. “You could feel my agitation all the way from the other side of the boat, huh?” he asked as he sipped. And then took a little more because Luke just made this particular drink so perfectly.

Luke, being a genie, Mark’s former genie, had a connection to Mark’s emotions. Sort of like the telepathic link Mark had to Luke, although in that case it was because of Mark’s dragon genetics. For Luke, it had everything to do with the rules that governed his species. Or at least that was what he and Mark had decided. Probably, if SearchLight ever chose to study genies more thoroughly, they would find a different, or at least more exact, answer.

Luke nodded, his golden eyebrows drawn together in a worried frown. He set his glass on a handy table and crossed to Mark. “What’s wrong?”

Damn, but Luke looked good. Mark traced the lapel of his lover’s tux. Brown, like Mark’s, but a lighter shade. Luke had really coordinated everything. “You look like a sex god,” Mark murmured.

That got him a brief smile but then Luke’s serious expression returned. “Talk to me, my Mark. What’s making you so jumpy?”

Mark didn’t know how to lay hands on the source of his nervousness and so he simply shook his head. He, too, set his glass down and wrapped his arms tightly around Luke, resting his cheek against his lover’s shoulder. His whole body wanted to shake and he held it at bay. He felt so safe in Luke’s embrace.

“Okay, so this is helping,” Luke correctly interpreted. “I can just hold you during the whole ceremony if you want.”

Mark tensed. “I don’t want…” He stepped back.

The look on Luke’s face was that of a stricken calf.

Mark hugged him close again. “It’s not you, it’s me, and I know that sounds like a crock of shit but…” He rubbed Luke’s back. “Please understand… I’m sorry… I don’t know how to explain but I’m so sorry…” He let his words fade away as Luke placed a gentle kiss on his hair. Mark couldn’t help thinking he shouldn’t feel this way, not when he was the head of a whole damned department, he’d known Luke for three plus years, and he all but worshiped the ground his genie lover walked on. Why was he feeling so defensive?

“I’m feeling vulnerable,” he whispered as the truth made itself known.

Luke’s voice in his ear was unfailingly soothing and warm. “If you want, we can postpone or…” His swallow was audible in Mark’s ear.


About the Author

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender women’s speculative fiction. Seeking a world made of equality, she created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires. And in the contemporary world she’s named “Sticks & Stones,” Emily has vowed to create small towns where prejudice is challenged by a passionate quest for equality. Find her on Facebook at Shapeshifter Central or on her website.

 

Author’s Website

Emily on Facebook

Emily on Twitter

 

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

Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15

 

Pre-Order Today


RABT Book Tours & PR

Thursday, December 18, 2025

Son of the Moon Book Blitz #rabtbooktours




Son of the Moon, Book One


MM Romance / Contemporary Fantasy

Date Published: June 13, 2025



"Don't come crying to me if he somehow manages to actually kill you!"

Twenty-one-year-old Jesse leads a pretty ordinary life until he encounters Jamie, who, covered in soot and ash, can't even remember where the blood on his hands came from.

Aware of the risk, Jesse offers him a place for the night, and what starts as simple act of kindness quickly deepens into a profound connection. Jamie explores the world anew, curious and with an endearing innocence, but things change rapidly when their first intimate moment nearly ends in tragedy. Even worse, Jamie begins to experience vivid nightmares; and discovering mysterious powers inside of him, the question of who he really is becomes all the more pressing. What did he do before he met Jesse? Is Jamie truly the harmless person he seems to be?

Son of the Moon Serendipity is the first in a series of seven books, where MM Romance collides with Contemporary Fantasy in a gripping tale for everyone who loves Hurt/Comfort and Found Family.


About the Author


Janelle Cressida loves to take her readers on highly emotional rollercoasters where every victory, however small, has its own price.

 

Contact Links

Website

Bookbuzz


Purchase Link

Amazon


RABT Book Tours & PR

Wednesday, December 17, 2025

All I Want for Christmas Teaser #rabtbooktours




Gay Christmas Romance, 2nd Chances

Date Published: December 19, 2025

 


All James wants for Christmas is his roommate Cillian. And he might just be getting lucky this year.

 

Who doesn’t love the holidays? Sleigh bells racing down winding country roads. Chestnuts, open fires, Yule logs. Homemade fruitcake that’s soaked up a full bottle of brandy. James adores it all, but his long-concealed desire for his roommate Cillian runs deeper than a river of holiday booze and burns hotter than any crackling Christmas hearth. But since he’d rather not risk losing a dear friend by making any unwanted moves, he’s kept that to himself for years.

Until now. When a flight plan goes FUBAR and James doesn’t have a way home for the holidays, Cillian suggests they keep Christmas in their own way. Tree, lights, feasting, the works.

It’s tempting. Almost as tempting as Cillian himself. And when James starts to get a clue that his interest might just be reciprocated… well. That changes the entire game. Time to bring out the holly and the jolly and maybe he’ll get his man under the tree this year.




EXCERPT

 

James bowed his head and thumped it gently against the windowpane. At first, he thought the quiet rattle and bang was from the shitty, landlord special, glass rattling in its frame. The much louder swearing, first frustrated and then triumphant, told him Cillian was home.

His heart rate, already nice and high, spiked a jolt or two skyward.

Cillian. His roommate. Platonic, not permanently attached, but in high demand, with a new pretty boy or big bear on his arm at least twice a month. He rattled all the windows when he had company, and James had learned to take it with a grain of salt, a snorted chuckle, and a really good pair of noise-canceling headphones -- because honestly, Cillian was one of those guys you couldn’t help but love. Some men had a gift for that. Half Irish and leaning into it, using the accent he’d gotten from his Galway mother to its full advantage. Full head of wild red curls and a day or so’s worth of stubble. Surprisingly broad shoulders, built like a Viking bard, with a cute little pillow belly when he sat down.

“Your call is very important to us. Please hold…”

James missed the rest of the robot spiel, too busy watching Cillian wander into their living room, tossing his keys in the general direction of their coffee table and his own knitted cap toward the back of the couch. No company tonight, James noticed.

Cillian grinned broadly, his teeth white and even, and mimed “phone call?” before putting his finger to his lips and plunking cheerfully down onto their couch. Yep. There was the belly. During dry spells, which happened far more often than James would like, he itched to drop down beside Cillian and rest his head on that nice little cushion to see if it was as comfortable as it looked.

“Won’t say a word,” Cillian mouthed to James. Then almost immediately, out loud: “Problems? Weren’t you supposed to be on a plane tonight?”

“Supposed to be, sure.” James gestured at his phone. “Airline says otherwise.”

“You bought your ticket weeks ago.”

“Again, airline’s website says otherwise. Trying to get an actual human on the line to convince them of that.”

Cillian winced in kind sympathy and idly rested his hand on his stomach where his Aran sweater had ridden up an inch or two. “Sucks, my friend. Wish you good luck.”

James’ fingers twitched. Their windows didn’t keep all the cold out, but Cillian ran warm. He’d be toasty as a fireplace to cuddle up with. James could rest his head or roll over to face him while they talked about a little of everything and a lot of nothing. And while he was there, possibly nose into the warm skin. Press a light kiss to Cillian’s navel. Or flip completely onto his stomach, braced on his arms, all the better to take care of the zipper on Cillian’s jeans and --

Okay, so he didn’t think about that kind of goings-on only during dry spells. More like all the time, actually.

All I want for Christmas is youuuuuu…

Click. “Your call has been disconnected. Please hang up and try again.”

James clapped a hand to his forehead and growled through gritted teeth, wondering if Androids could actually accordion up and break across the middle if you squeezed them hard enough. Either way, he was about to find out, either from travel-induced rage or sexual frustration.

“Ah, now. I know that look.”

James had closed his eyes, but he heard Cillian lever himself off the couch and clatter over before thumping a companionable hand to his back. “It’s a few days till Christmas still. You’re not going to get a human on the line during rush hour.”

“True so far.” James opened his eyes. “Suggestions?”

“Sure, easy. Call back tomorrow morning and yell at them then. Or not, because they’re humans and they’re probably at least twice as pissed at the system as you are, so be a kind fellow and go easy on the poor bastards. Figure it all out with a cool head then.”

Cillian grinned at him from inches away. He smelled of bayberries and fir and wool. “And in the meantime, I happen to know the perfect cure for a raging temper fit.”

Despite himself, a matching smile tugged at James’ lips. Cillian was just magic that way. “Don’t say drinks.”

“Drinks!” Cillian thumped him harder, then tossed an arm around James’ shoulders. “Best idea I’ve heard today. Let’s go.”

With a choice between that and listening to bubblegum caroling for another hour -- well, it wasn’t really a choice at all.

All I want for Christmas is you. He tapped Cillian’s fist with his own. “You’re on. Let’s go.”

 

About the Author

Willa Okati (AKA Will) is made of many things: imagination, coffee, stray cat hairs, daydreams, more coffee, kitchen experimentation, a passion for winter weather, a little more coffee, a whole lot of flowering plants and a lifelong love of storytelling. Will's definitely one of the quiet ones you have to watch out for, though he -- not she anymore -- is a lot less quiet these days.

 

Author Contact Links

Will on Facebook

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Will on Goodreads

 

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

Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15



RABT Book Tours & PR

The Deviation Release Blitz #GayBookPromotions

NEW RELEASE

Book Title: The Deviation

Author, Cover Artist, and Publisher: Rebecca Raine

Release Date: December 17, 2025

Tense/POV: first person, present tense, alternating POV

Genres: Contemporary MM Romance

Tropes: Rock star, first time bi, workplace romance, forbidden love, found family

Themes: Pining, coming out, integrity, trust, belonging, loyalty

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length:  88 000 words

It is Book 3 in a series where each book can be read as a standalone. 

It does not end on a cliffhanger. 

HEA guaranteed.

Goodreads

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

When my quiet life fell apart, he turned up the music in my soul. How do I pretend we never happened?

Blurb

Johnny

I did everything my parents wanted: got a respectable job, married my childhood sweetheart, and pushed my rock star dreams into the background. It was enough for me… until my divorce cracked open the cage.

Now old cravings rush to the surface, and I ache to satisfy each one. Starting with the gorgeous man I lock eyes with at a musical festival. Calum is all kinds of perfect. As a manager, he could accelerate my music career. As a man, he reignites the fire in my soul. I can’t have him both ways.

When my band signs with Calum’s company, we agree to keep our distance. No one can know we’ve met before. How far we’ve gone. How deeply we’ve tasted. Our futures depend on the secrets we must keep.

Calum

If I’d known who Johnny was the night we met, this never would have happened. Getting involved with a client is forbidden, and I can’t risk my job—or my sister’s security—for some lust-fuelled romance.

Working together doesn’t have to be complicated. That’s what I tell myself every time we avoid touching. When his eyes tease, and his lyrics seduce. As our professional successes mount, the connection between us only grows stronger.

There are lines we can’t cross. Boundaries we can’t break. But when Johnny is all I want, all I think about… how do I stay away?

Excerpt 

Johnny ambles over to invade my personal space. The warm, freshly showered scent of him creeps into my nostrils, causing me to inhale, but I don’t shy away from his closeness. He’s in a dangerous mood. If I show weakness, he may pounce.

“Would you like a drink?” he asks, gesturing with the tumbler that dangles from the fingers of his right hand.

“Sure.” It’s a terrible idea, but at the moment I’ll say yes to anything that will put some distance between us. He withdraws to the kitchen, and I suck in a lungful of oxygen. It doesn’t help. His presence lingers in every square inch of air. It strokes my insides, burrowing into my cells and setting them on fire.

This is not the meeting I expected. We’re supposed to talk about Ned and how we can be allies in my bid to win him over. This isn’t supposed to be a seduction, and I am definitely not supposed to be gagging for it.

Stalking after him, I plant myself in the entrance to the kitchen and glare at the lines of his muscular back. “Why am I here, Johnny?” The clipped words imply irritation, though the truth is probably closer to lustful vexation.

He turns, smirking as he delivers the generous glass of scotch to my hand. “Because you can’t stop thinking about me.”

My spine stiffens at his knowing drawl. I snatch the drink before escaping back to the living room. It has more room for pacing and I’m unsure what he’ll do if I stay still. “I mean, why did you ask me to come here tonight?”

He drains his glass as he returns. Dumping it on the coffee table, he steps into the path I’m wearing through his carpet. I come to an abrupt halt to prevent a head-on collision. His hands lift to cup my face, the calloused fingertips dragging over my cheekbones. The deep brown of his eyes drink me in, and his mouth is a breath away from mine. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you,” he says in a rough whisper.

There’s no smirk this time. Only need and heat and passion. “I wonder where you are, constantly. What you’re doing. How you taste.” His body crowds mine. Our hips brush together and, holy fuck, we’re both hard as nails. This man is lightning in my veins. The way I want him hurts, and I glory in the sharpness of the need. “I imagine you masturbating to the thought of me,” he whispers, “every time I masturbate to the thought of you.”

“Johnny.” The name is a groan, pulled all the way from my throbbing cock and up through my vocal cords. “We can’t do this.”

“Sure we can.” His head dips, and I shiver as his lips brush my throat. “I’ll show you.” His hands are on my hips now, tugging me more firmly against him. His mouth chases mine but I turn my head, my eyes drifting closed.

“I need…” My words falter as he rocks his hips, rubbing his erection against mine.

One hand threads through my hair. Taking it in a firm grip, he angles my face back towards his. His panting breath fills my open mouth. “I need you, too.” And then he’s kissing me. His tongue in my mouth. His body flush against mine.

God help me, I kiss him back. Even as I force my arms to stay at my sides and my body to remain still, I can’t resist losing myself for precious moments in his kiss, in the scotch and temptation of him.

When a needful moan reverberates from my throat to his lips, he pulls back long enough to smile at me. It’s the smile that shocks me back to my senses. Lifting one hand to his chest, I force myself to push him away.

“No, Johnny.” We stand there staring at each other, our chests heaving. “I need Fifth Circle. I need to sign a band and my boss has decided it has to be your band.” His smile dies and he straightens away from my touch. “If I don’t sign you to Rush, I lose my job. If my boss finds out what’s going on between us, I lose my job.” The ramifications of my actions slam into me and I drain the glass of scotch I’m still holding before putting it beside his. “I can’t risk my job. Not for anything.”

Not for you. The unspoken words hang between us.

His gaze hardens and a bitter grimace curls his lips. “In that case, we’re both shit out of luck.” Picking up the empty glasses, he storms back towards the kitchen. “There may not even be a band anymore.”

About the Author 

Rebecca is a long-time lover of all things romance. Whether it’s a book, movie, or real life, she will always have more fun if there’s a love interest thrown into the mix. She lives in Queensland, Australia with her very own hero husband, two quirky kids and one big, black dog. Other than reading and writing books, her favourite things include loud music, enjoying a glass of wine on the patio, organising everything in existence, and spending too much time on the Internet.

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Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

Monday, December 15, 2025

The Road to Pienza Book Blast #GayBookPromotions

BOOK BLAST - RECENT RELEASE

Book Title: The Road to Pienza (The Road to Montepulciano #2)

Author and Cover Artist: Garrick Jones

Publisher: GRJ Press

Release Date: November 6, 2025

Genre: Crime Thriller

Themes: Historical fiction; Crime Fiction; Political Thriller; Action Thriller

Heat Rating:  5 flames

Length:  117 000 words/348 pages

It is part of a series, but does not end on a cliffhanger.

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The action-packed sequel to the best-selling thriller, The Road to Montepulciano

Blurb

The action-packed sequel to the best-selling thriller, The Road to Montepulciano

On the night of the ninth of June 1944, four days after the Allied liberation of Rome, four nuns are murdered in a railway carriage at the Vatican City railway station.

Sixteen years later, returning to Tuscany after a gruelling book signing tour of Australia, Damson O’Reilly finds his partner, Giancarlo (no longer a detective but now a well-known and successful lawyer) engrossed in a slander case between Italy’s screen heartthrob, Mario Celestino, and a high-profile, fascist industrialist, Giovanni Scavola.

The case uncovers buried secrets, secrets that bring to light the involvement of both men in the WW2 crime and which lead to kidnapping, torture and murder, culminating in a dramatic, bloody outcome that will rock the Italian nation to its core.

Excerpt

By the time I finished my turn in the bathroom, Kendall was naked, sitting up on top of the bed covers, so I perched on the edge of the mattress next to his knee and lit a cigarette.

“Come closer,” he said. By now, I recognised that look in his eye.

He ran his hand over my thigh and cupped my balls. I leaned back and moved my knees apart while he gently massaged my chest and stomach, his hand finally coming to rest, encircling the base of my by-now hard cock. “I like this,” he said, jiggling it a little.

“What about the rest of me?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s all right, too.” His accompanying cheeky wink made me grin.

“What you said earlier … I’m the only man who’s ever fucked you?”

“Yep.”

“Why me?”

“As I said, I like this.” He squeezed harder, milking my erection, then leaned over and licked the shiny drop of fluid from the eye of my cock with the tip of his tongue. “I’ve always liked looking at big ones, but yours is the first I’ve ever wanted inside me.”

“Kendall—”

He laughed, interrupting what I was going to say. “I’m not out to make trouble with you and Giancarlo. I really like him too. What we did in the hotel room in Sydney … I want more of that, and not just watching either.”

“Where on earth does this come from? You’ve always seemed rather standoffish to me, especially when it comes to talking about sex.”

“I dunno, Damson. Something just clicked between us that first night in Adelaide when I pretended to be drunk and asked you to suck me off.”

“You returned the favour, as I remember.”

“That’s right, and yours was the first cock I ever had in my mouth, and the first time I’d ever swallowed or even tasted spunk.”

“I’m confused.”

“I’m aware that I always skirt around my history—my sexual history, that is. You know that I’ve always been into sex with older women. Not sure why—I don’t remember my own mother, I was far too small when she died, so it can’t be that. Fooled around a bit in my teens with lads my own age; that happens at an all-boys’ boarding school. But then, when I joined up, I became fixated on what men had between their legs, especially the big ones, like yours. There was someone for a while, but all we did was swap tongues while we pulled each other off.”

“You’ve never seemed to want to swap tongues with me,” I said, by this time my legs wide apart and my erection almost purple because he’d been squeezing the base so tightly.

“Can we just be friends, Damson? I don’t want anything more than you as a close mate in my life. Of course, I still want to do this with you—and Giancarlo if that’s on the cards—but I’m not looking for a love affair. Is that all right with you?”

I closed my eyes for a moment. “That depends.”

“Depends on what?”

I wrapped one hand around the back of his neck and pulled him towards me. I guessed the kissing part of what he’d done with his army mate was something he really liked, because before I knew it, I was almost choking on his tongue after he’d nearly sucked mine out of my head. I pushed him onto his back on the bed. The kissing became more languid, sensuous, exploring. He guided my hand down to his balls, then raised his hips. I massaged the rim of his arsehole with my fingers.

“Aw, fuck,” he moaned into my mouth.

Damned if he wasn’t one of the best kissers I’d ever met. He didn’t even flinch a little bit as I eased my saliva-wetted dick into his body.

About the Author 

From the outback to the opera.

After a thirty-year career as a professional opera singer, performing as a soloist in opera houses and in concert halls all over the world, I took up a position as lecturer in music in Australia in 1999, at the Central Queensland Conservatorium of Music, which is now part of CQ University.

Brought up in Australia, between the bush and the beaches of the Eastern suburbs, I retired in 2015 and now live in the tropics, writing, gardening, and finally finding time to enjoy life and to re-establish a connection with who I am after a very busy career on the stage and as an academic.

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