Tag Archives: Australian setting

New to me author and a new interpretation of shifter worlds

42362013Blackwood by Pia Foxhall

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

A new author to me and a new way of examining the world of shifters and I really enjoyed it.

Set in the forests of Western Australia, this romance examines in detail the hormones made me do it aspect of an omegaverse where the dynamics of alpha, beta and omega are followed.

Branden is a really beautifully crafted character, he’s strong but vulnerable, an omega masquerading as beta not only because he wants the freedom to roam as a nature photographer but also because of a traumatic previous experience with an alpha.

In this world, shifters have only been known for a few decades and I liked the way Pia Foxhall approached all the bureaucracy of dealing with wolf shifters through a lack of knowledge based on superstitions and outdated information.

Coll was a gem of an alpha. Way beyond the norm for the type, not an over-inflated egotistical jerk, but a complex man capable of not only controlling his emotions but using his ability to help Branden through his first heat in nearly a decade.

I loved that this book bucked all the must fuck tropes that often come with an omegaverse.

Yes, it touched on it, Branden’s heat put him into that same almost painful and emotional driven state, but Coll’s long lineage of alpha shifters gave him abilities which were able to help the omega move beyond the emotional need. It was an interesting way to deal with the biology of the mating instinct

Great world building and some really interesting secondary characters made this a book I didn’t want to put down.

#ARC kindly received from the author in return for an honest and unbiased review

View all my reviews

Release Blitz: Honeymoon For One by Keira Andrews

Honeymoon For One | Keira Andrews

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Buy Links: 

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2QU5XhE

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2zrPJFO

Length: 80,000 words approx.

Cover Design: Dar Albert @ Wicked Smart Design

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Blurb

The wedding is off, but the love story is just beginning.

Betrayed the night before his wedding by the supposed boy of his dreams, Ethan Robinson escapes the devastating fallout by going on his honeymoon alone to the other side of the world.

Hard of hearing and still struggling with the repercussions of being late-deafened, traveling by himself leaves him feeling painfully isolated with his raw, broken heart.

Clay Kelly never expected to be starting life over in his forties. He got hitched young, but now his wife has divorced him and remarried, his kids are grown, and he’s left his rural Outback town.

In a new career driving a tour bus on Australia’s East Coast, Clay reckons he’s happy enough. He enjoys his cricket, a few beers, and a quiet life. If he’s a bit lonely, it’s not the end of the world.

Clay befriends Ethan, hoping he can cheer up the sad-eyed young man, and a crush on an unattainable straight guy is exactly the safe distraction Ethan needs. Yet as the days pass and their connection grows, long-repressed desires surface in Clay, and they are shocked to discover romance sparking.

Clay is the sexy, rugged man of Ethan’s dreams, and as the clock counts down on their time together, neither wants this honeymoon to end.

Honeymoon for One is a gay romance by Keira Andrews featuring a May-December age difference, a slow burn of newfound friends to lovers, first-time MM sex, and of course a happy ending.

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Excerpt

As Ethan walked through the resort on Fraser Island the next afternoon after a tour to gorgeous Lake McKenzie, he finally admitted to himself that he was looking for Clay.

Because he’s nice! He’s fun to talk to. Besides, my harmless crush is just that. Harmless. Why shouldn’t I enjoy it? Nothing’s going to happen. He’s apparently straight and I’m on the rebound. But we can be friendly. I like his accent, and he’s a nice guy.

Of course, Clay wasn’t just nice. He was sexy. His accent? Sexy. The Australian slang he used that made him sound like Crocodile Dundee sometimes? Sexy. His broad shoulders and solid build? Sexy. That he didn’t have chiseled abs and was a little soft around the middle? Sexy. Those blue eyes, and how the auburn in his hair gleamed in the sun, especially in his beard and the hair on his arms, and how he had freckles…

Sexy, sexy, sexy.

But the sexiest thing of all was how thoughtful he was. How he made such an effort to make sure Ethan could hear him when he spoke. How he’d told him the secret of the Mission Bay sunrise. How he’d copied the tour guide notes for him. Even back in Cairns, how he’d held Ethan’s backpack while Ethan was snorkeling and watched over him, then later took him to buy a hat.

Ethan was wearing the hat now, and it gave him a giddy little thrill.

Is he straight though?

The question had been niggling at him. Clay had been married to a woman for years and had kids, but of course that didn’t mean he was straight. He could be bi or pan. Although he’d mentioned the right woman coming along.

Still, when Ethan had touched his arm that morning on Mission Beach and looked into Clay’s eyes, he swore there had been a flicker between them. That unnamed frisson of knowing.

Wishful thinking. Don’t be an idiot.

There were four pools at the resort, and Ethan strolled around the first two. It was sunny, and through his polarized sunglasses, the water, surrounding palm trees, and forest beyond were vibrant. He waved hello to Shiv—who was reading on a lounger since there was nothing planned for the day after that morning’s trip to the lake in four-by-four jeeps—and continued on to a smaller, kidney-shaped pool that was more tucked away, and—

Fuck. Clay.

There he was, stretched out on a chaise lounge under the shade of an umbrella and surrounding trees on the deck at the far end of the pool. There were a few adults in the water paddling lazily, others on the more exposed side of the concrete deck sunbathing. Kids seemed to be in the bigger pools, their splashing and shrieks distant noises now.

Oh so casually, Ethan ambled around the pool, stealing glances at Clay from the corner of his eye. The chaises on either side of him were vacant. In fact, that whole shady side of the pool was empty and quiet. There was no music piped in, just the rustle of leaves in the breeze. It was perfect.

Clay wore his sexy-AF aviator sunglasses, navy bathing trunks, and nothing else but his gold-colored watch. It was kind of old-fashioned to wear a watch, and it was sexy. He’d apparently taken a dip, since his hair was wet and darker, and drops of water dried on his skin.

His long, muscular legs were crossed at the ankles. There was a newspaper folded over his stomach, his fingers laced on top of it. His nipples were pink amid the reddish hair on his chest, and as Ethan got closer, he imagined licking those nipples.

Heat roaring through him, he swallowed thickly. This was a bad idea, and he should turn back the way he came. But now he was close enough that if Clay saw him, it might seem rude, like Ethan had turned around and left because he was avoiding Clay. So he kept walking slowly around the curve of the shaded deep end, where one woman in a bikini swam a slow side stroke.

Clay’s chaise was partly reclined, and it was entirely possible he was napping and didn’t have any idea Ethan was even there. Ethan slowed even more so his flip-flops didn’t flap on the concrete.

Okay, if I walk by and he doesn’t notice me, that’s a sign. I’ll keep going and stop being ridiculous.

He was still at least ten feet away when Clay called, “Ethan!” and lifted a hand in a wave.

“Oh, hey!” Ethan replied too loudly. Calm the fuck down. He smiled as he approached. “You found a good shady spot.”

“Yep. Got skin cancer once when I was younger, so I reckoned me and the sun aren’t mates.”

Ethan gaped. “Oh my God. I’m sorry. You said before that you had to be careful, but I didn’t realize.”

“Nah, nah. Don’t be sorry.” He casually motioned to the chaise on his left in invitation. Ethan spread out his striped resort towel and settled in, his heart beating too fast as he took off his hat since they were in the shade.

Clay added, “I shouldn’t be so dramatic—it wasn’t melanoma. Basal cell carcinoma. Quite common in Australia. It can’t spread, so it’s not dangerous like other cancers. Still, I had to have surgery to remove it, so it’s not nothing.”

“Wow. I’m glad it wasn’t melanoma. Obviously. Where was it?” he asked before realizing how intrusive that was. Even though Clay really felt like a friend now, Ethan had to remember it was probably mostly in his head. “I’m sorry, I’m being totally nosy! You don’t have to tell me.”

See? This was a bad idea. I’m going to make a fool of myself with this crush. Maybe it’s not so harmless after all.

“No worries. It was on the back of my left shoulder.” Clay leaned forward, angling so Ethan could see. He reached over that shoulder with his right hand, his fingers finding a pale circle of a scar. Just below it was a tattoo, a green sort of shield with a yellow sun rising over a green horizon and five stars dotting the shield. It was a few inches wide and several inches long.

“Cool tattoo.” Ethan had never been compelled to get one, but he enjoyed looking at other people’s. Before he could stop himself, he traced it with his fingertip. Clay’s back was freckled as well, and goddamn, why was that so sexy? The seconds ticked by as he touched Clay, neither of them saying anything.

Finally, Ethan asked, “Does it mean something?” He was still touching, and Clay shivered. Ethan dropped his hand, his mouth dry.

Clay cleared his throat as he sat back. “It’s part of the Cricket Australia logo. On their uniforms there’s a roo on the left and an emu on the right, and ‘Australia’ written underneath.” He laughed and muttered something Ethan missed.

“What was the last part? Sorry.”

“I thought having the full logo was overkill for a tattoo. Didn’t want it too big, but I like having a little something.”

“You really love cricket, huh?”

Clay laughed. “What gave me away?”

Ethan chuckled. “Oh, you were going to tell me about that thing. The…” He racked his brain for the right word. “Ashes?”

“Ah, yes.” Clay tipped his head forward and peered at Ethan over the rims of his aviators with his intensely blue eyes. A thrill of desire shot through Ethan’s veins. Clay asked, “Are you sure you really want to know? No need to humor me, mate.”

“No, I really do!” He laughed, and it came out shaky, so he faked a cough. “I always loved sports when I was younger, and I want to get back into them. Although the Mets were epically bad last season, so I wasn’t very inspired to hop back on the bandwagon.”

“What happened to make you lose your interest? I can’t imagine.”

“Oh. It was…” Ethan motioned to his ears. “I lost interest in basically everything. I was really depressed for, like, four years. But the last year’s been a lot better. I’ve come to terms with it, I guess. But I’m still not the way I was before.”

“Ah.” Clay nodded sympathetically. “I understand. Still finding your footing. It can take a while. When I first moved down to Sydney, it was quite a culture shock. My entire life was upended. Home, work—the whole bit.”

“Yeah.” Ethan hesitated, but the way Clay watched him so patiently and without judgement gave him the confidence to say, “And now, being single again, it’s just so…weird. Like, who am I if… If I’m not with Michael?” Saying his name aloud was painful, but felt good at the same time, to release some of the pressure inside him.

Clay nodded again. “I was half of Mr and Mrs Kelly for so long. It hurt to lose that, no mistake.” He smiled sadly. “Hell, I still feel like I’m finding my footing. Thought I should have figured it all out by now, but that’s life for ya, I reckon.”

Warmth filled Ethan’s chest, affection and understanding flowing. “Always full of surprises, right?” And some that were actually good surprises. Like meeting a sexy older man who somehow likes me. Somehow gets me.

“Indeed.” Clay looked at him for a moment. Then he said, “You know, it’s nice to chat about it with someone on the same page. Haven’t really made many mates since I moved, and aside from Facebook, I don’t see the blokes from the Curry. Not that we’d talk much about this sort of thing.”

It made Ethan feel so damn good to be in Clay’s confidence. He had to stop himself from grinning delightedly. Instead, he joked, “Strong silent types in the outback, huh?”

Clay chuckled. “Something like that.” He sipped from a bottle of water. “Glad to have met you.” Then he jolted and looked horrified. “Not saying I’m glad at the trauma you’ve had. It’s awful that your wedding was called off.” He grimaced. “Maybe it’s best for me not to talk about all this after all.”

“No, no. It’s okay. I know what you meant. No offense taken.” He smiled genuinely, relieved when Clay visibly relaxed. But maybe it was time to lighten the subject. Sitting back on his chaise, Ethan said, “All right, tell me all about the mysterious Ashes. Maybe cricket can be my new sport.” And since it was something important to Clay, he really did want to know about it.

Clay grinned. “If you insist.” He sat back and re-crossed his ankles. “What do you know about cricket?”

“Um…nothing? It’s kind of like baseball and takes forever to play?”

Throwing his head back, Clay laughed, exposing his neck. Ethan watched his Adam’s apple. Clay said, “I’ll start at the beginning.”

Ethan nodded and uh-huhed as Clay outlined the basics. Stumps, bats, a wicket, a pitch, creases, bowling—Ethan wasn’t sure he really understood all the info, but he kept nodding, loving the rumble of Clay’s voice.

“Is this making sense?” Clay asked.

“Yes! I mean, it’s a lot to try and take in, but I think I get it.”

“We should watch a match. It’s really the best way to learn.”

Belly somersaulting, Ethan tried to keep his voice casual. “That would be cool, yeah. So what’s the thing about ashes?”

“The Ashes is a test series between England and Australia. Test matches can go five days, as opposed to an ODI—” He cut off. “You’re going to be bored shitless if I go into the overs and innings and all that.

“In a nutshell, England and Australia play a series every year or so of five matches. It’s very competitive. Lots of patriotic pride tied up in it. The name comes from the late 1800s, when we beat England for the first time over there. Being beaten by the colonies on English soil was quite a shock for the poor pommies, bless their hearts. Our bowler went fourteen wickets for ninety.”

“I have no idea what that means, but it sounds good?” Ethan laughed. Clay laughed as well, and God, he was so hot.

“It was very good. So one of the London papers published a mock obit for English cricket after we won. At the end it said, ‘The body will be cremated and the ashes taken to Australia.’ The Brits were determined to get the ashes back, and over the years, mumble mumble.

A chattering couple walking by made the last part impossible to hear, but Ethan guessed, “Over the years that became the name of the tournament?”

Clay frowned after the couple, who thankfully kept walking. “You’ve got it. Legend goes that when England came back to Australia to play, a lady gave the captain an urn with the ashes of a burnt cricket ball inside. That urn’s in a museum at the MCC in England, but now the winning team gets a crystal version of it to keep until the next series.”

“Are you serious?”

“Mate, I never joke about cricket. Ever.”

Ethan grinned. “I love that the trophy is an urn. That’s awesome. Thanks for explaining all that.”

“I’d give you an ear-bashing all day about cricket if you let me.”

I’d let you do so many things to me.

Before Ethan’s mind could veer too far down the path of wondering what Clay’s beard would feel like against his face if they kissed, Clay said, “Tell me about baseball. Your Mets aren’t doing so well?”

“Not last season. But there was one year when I was a kid? We didn’t make the World Series, but it was still amazing. You know, when everything seems to go right during the season, and the players are all awesome guys and you feel like you know them, and you’re rooting so hard for them. And when they win, it’s just the best feeling in the world.”

Clay grinned. “Nothing like it, mate.” Then he laughed, his shoulders shaking.

“What?” Ethan laughed too. “You get it, right?”

“Absolutely.” Clay looked like he was trying to stop laughing but couldn’t manage it.

“What?” Ethan nudged Clay’s bare arm with his fist, resisting the urge to flatten his palm over the firm, hair-dusted muscles. He groaned as he thought back over what he’d said. “Oh, I see. ‘Rooting so hard.’ You know I didn’t mean it like that. ‘Root’ doesn’t mean sex in the US.” He giggled, because he and Clay were apparently twelve.

As they laughed together over the silly joke, Ethan’s hearing aid battery beeped in his left ear. That meant the right likely would go soon too. Grimacing at the loud beep, he said, “Sorry, I need to go change my hearing aid batteries. They beep to let me know.”

“No worries. I’ll try to compose myself. Of course now my mind’s full of stupid jokes.”

Ethan grinned. “Tell me one before I go.”

“Well, did you know Australian’s don’t have sex?”

Hearing the word “sex” come out of Clay’s mouth had Ethan’s balls tingling and his head going light. His voice sounded too high as he said, “No? What do they do?”

“They mate.”

Ethan burst out laughing, and Clay joined in. Sure, it was childish. But he didn’t give a shit. It was fun. Michael would have rolled his eyes because he was always too snobby for puns. And wow, Ethan realized he and Michael hadn’t had goofy fun in a long, long time.

He’d missed feeling so relaxed. Like, he didn’t have to worry about what Clay would think if he made a dumb joke or announced, “that’s what she said” after a double entendre. Because Clay would laugh along with him.

Because Clay was awesome.

Ethan gave him a wave and circled the pool, walking on air. He imagined he could feel the heat of Clay’s gaze on his body. I might have to go jerk off if I don’t get my shit together. He’s only being friendly. Stop imagining things!

The eco-resort had raised, wooden, covered boardwalks with guest rooms along them and lots of foliage around. He was smiling to himself—okay, grinning—and waved as he passed Stan and Violet. Inside his room, Ethan kept his suitcases neatly packed and closed since he’d read to never put a suitcase on a bed due to the threat of bedbugs.

A few minutes later, Ethan’s belongings were strewn across the spare bed, his heart racing and mouth dry. His hearing aid batteries weren’t there. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

He pawed through his clothes again. Nothing. Telling himself they had to be somewhere, he tried to be methodical as he searched. Nothing. He ran into the bathroom and looked there again. Nothing. The reminder beeps from his hearing aids as the clock wound down did not freaking help, the right one chiming in now, as he’d expected.

Ethan opened drawers even though he hadn’t put anything away. He dug through the trash bins, which hadn’t been emptied yet by housekeeping. Finally, after searching three more times, he had to declare defeat. His batteries were not there. Trying to catch a ragged breath, he stood in the middle of his room, which looked like a hurricane had passed through.

Then he remembered the little balcony with a forest view. He unlocked the door and slid it open with a bang, his heart pounding. Nothing. He tried to think of when he’d last seen the pack of little round batteries and came up blank. Had he left them in the Whitsundays? He couldn’t imagine doing that, but he’d taken everything out of his big suitcase to reorganize.

And of course he usually kept a couple batteries in his little hearing aid case, but hadn’t replaced them since he’d been on one of the flights when his batteries had gone.

“Fuck!”

If he was on the mainland, it would be easy enough to buy more at a drugstore. Heart in his throat, he rushed out of his room and down the walkway back toward reception. Maybe they had a store. He hadn’t noticed anything—maybe a gift shop wasn’t eco-friendly?—but there had to be somewhere to buy stuff on the island. Right?

Wrong.

The young guy behind the front desk shook his head apologetically. “We only have a few essentials available.” He added something else that was lost in the four ominous beeps in Ethan’s left ear, signaling that battery would die momentarily. Sure enough, after a few heartbeats, it went quiet. The guy was saying something else, and Ethan strained to understand with only his right hearing aid, turning his head and leaning in.

The guy looked at him like he was waiting for a response, and Ethan said, “I’m sorry?” He waved a hand dismissively, and Ethan easily read his lips since he was used to these words: “Never mind.”

“Can you not fucking—” He caught himself and breathed deeply to choke down the frustration. He lowered his voice, or at least he hoped he did. “Can you please write down what you said?”

Glancing at him warily as if Ethan was a lunatic, the guy scrawled on a piece of hotel notepaper: I’ll ask housekeeping to go through the towels and make sure nothing was accidentally picked up.

Still breathing hard, Ethan nodded. “Thank you.” He turned and walked away from the desk, his lungs tight. As he descended the wide stairs leading down to a restaurant on one side and the pool area beyond glass doors, he spotted Stan and Violet sitting in the shade outside in an area with padded wicker furniture and tables. He approached them to ask what kind of batteries Stan used.

Of course not the same kind—Stan’s were smaller. He and his wife were very kind and sympathetic, and Ethan was going to fucking cry like the loser he was, so he quickly thanked them and escaped back into the lobby. Where he stood as the minutes ticked by, trying not to completely lose his shit. His right aid was going to go soon, the reminder beep making him wince.

Then Clay was there, his face pinched in concern as he said something Ethan didn’t hear in the murmur of noise from the restaurant nearby and people through the lobby.

Ethan told him about the missing batteries and added, “I guess I left them at the last place? I don’t know. Doesn’t matter now. They’re not here.” Clay said something that was probably sympathetic, and Ethan shook his head. “Sorry, it’s hard with only one now. And the right one won’t last much longer.”

Clay nodded and glanced around, then guided Ethan to a little tucked-away corner, his big hand warm and comforting on Ethan’s shoulder before dropping away. Ethan blew out a long breath. “Anyway, I asked Stan, but his hearing aids are different and the batteries won’t fit mine.”

“Damn it.” Clay was clearly trying to speak even more carefully. His sunglasses were perched on his head, and he leaned in, looking at Ethan intently. “Where do you get more batteries? Does it have to be a speciality-type place?”

“No, just a drugstore. But they don’t have one here.”

“I’ll ask the desk when the next boat to the mainland is. If you tell me which batteries, I can fetch them from the chemist and come back as soon as I can.”

Clay’s kindness made Ethan’s eyes burn again with the threat of tears. His right hearing aid beeped, but with Clay’s steady presence, he was able to take a deep breath and calm his spiky pulse. “That’s really cool of you to offer. But no, it’s your day off. I’ll be fine.”

“It’s no bother. I always enjoy a boat ride.”

Clay was amazing. It was entirely a freaking bother, but he was so comforting and unruffled. So sexy. No, no, this wasn’t the time to be thinking about that, but it loosened the massive knot of tension in Ethan’s chest.

“I’ll be okay.” He blew out a long breath, glancing around the high-ceilinged lobby. No one seemed to be watching his meltdown, at least. “I’m okay. I can get batteries in the morning. I’m sorry. Sometimes my anxiety just…” He made an exploding motion with his hands.

Clay smiled, and Ethan really, really wanted to kiss him. “No worries. We all have our moments. I can imagine it’s a frightening thing, not being able to hear. Would make a bloke feel awfully…bare. If you know what I mean.”

Do not think about Clay naked. “Yeah, that’s it exactly. Vulnerable, I guess. But it helps—” He broke off. Would it be weird to say it? What the hell. Before he could lose his nerve, he said, “It helps having you here. Thank you.”

Of course, now he was a hundred per cent thinking about Clay naked, and when Clay slung an arm around Ethan’s shoulders and gave him a manly half-hug squeezy thing, that did not help.

He spoke quietly and steadily near Ethan’s right ear, not shouting like a lot of well-meaning people would. “How about I buy us a couple of tinnies of Four X—they’ll allow those by the pool, but no glass. There’s a bar over by the main deck, and we can take ‘em back to the shade.”

Ethan was pressed against the side of Clay’s big, strong body, a situation his dick was very interested in pursuing further. Afraid of how high-pitched his voice might come out, he simply nodded. Clay clapped his back and let go, and they made their way outside. Ethan tried to get the beer charged to his room, but of course Clay waved him off, not accepting any arguments.

“This shout’s on me.”

Ethan’s brows drew together. “This what?”

“Shout.” He motioned to the cans of beer the bartender put on the counter.

“I thought that’s what you said. A shout’s like a round of drinks?” At Clay’s nod, Ethan grinned. “Cool. Thanks. Then I’ll get the one after.” His smile faded. “I mean, unless you have other stuff to do. You don’t have to hang out with me all day.”

Clay shrugged. “Nowhere else to be, mate.”

Copyright © Keira Andrews

Author Bio

After writing for years yet never really finding the right inspiration, Keira discovered her voice in gay romance, which has become a passion. She writes contemporary, historical, fantasy, and paranormal fiction and — although she loves delicious angst along the way — Keira firmly believes in happy endings.

For as Oscar Wilde once said: “The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. That is what fiction means.”

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Book Blast: The Pearl by Geoffrey Knight

The Pearl | Geoffrey Knight

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Gay Romance

Release Date: 25.01.17

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Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2ogiFtO

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2P7Nf4u

BLURB

The Top End of Australia—a tropical paradise filled with beauty. Wonder. Danger.

For two young boys growing up in the Northern Territory—half-Aboriginal Jarrah “Jad” Yindi and his best friend Luke Lawson—the remote beaches and aqua waters of the Top End are a playground of adventure. And as two best friends become young men, true love washes over them like the sea upon the sand.

But life is full of challenges and change, and if Jad is to discover who he really is, he must piece together his ancestral past, his dream-filled present and his uncertain future to become the man he was always destined to be.

Through water and fire; through love and loss; through the days of youth to the stories of the world’s oldest living culture, journey across the heart of Australia to discover what’s in the heart of one young man.

The Pearl TEaser 1

EXCERPT

The moon set and the last hour before dawn was the hardest. I could barely see where I was going. More than once my boots slid on a rock and I hit the ground, bruising my side, my back, my thigh.

Slowly the black of night turned to the blue of a new day.

Slowly the stars disappeared and the pink of dawn filled the sky.

And then, with a sigh of relief, I saw the sun break on the far horizon and rise in a wavy ball.

I felt the instant blast of heat.

Then I looked around, and in the light of day I felt so incredibly alone. And so far away from everything I knew and loved.

I was in Arnhem Land.

Vast and roadless.

A sparse landscape of rocks and canyons, scrubby bushland and red sand, most of it untouched by humankind for millions upon millions of years.

And here we were.

Me and Billy Shakespear in our rijis and nothing else.

I squinted into the sun. Billy was still fifty metres ahead of me, his barefoot step certain and unceasing.

My step was more erratic, desperate to keep up. I stumbled on another rock. I felt the bite of the sun on my brown skin which had lightened noticeably from my time in Sydney. My time away from the beaches and waters—my childhood playground—of the tropical north.

“Billy, wait up.” I breathed it at first, unsure of whether or not I really wanted to announce it.

Then my left foot slid forward on a loose rock and I fell backward on my arse so hard it made me grunt in pain.

That’s when I saw what had been sleeping under the rock.

That’s when I screamed out, “Billy!”

Growing up in the Northern Territory, I knew enough about snakes to know an Inland Taipan when I saw one. I’d seen charts. I’d studied it at school. And now I was staring at the world’s deadliest snake as it came swirling angrily through the red sand toward me, heading straight for the clumsy bastard that had tipped over its rock, slithering between my sprawled legs. And me, wearing nothing but that stupid riji to protect me?

“Billy!” I tried to squirm backward, elbowing my way frantically through the sand. The snake was faster than me, relentless in its pursuit. “Billy!!”

The old Aborigine was still fifty metres away when I heard him shout, “Stop! Stay still!”

In the heat of the desert sun, against my natural tendency to run from confrontation—especially one this deadly—I froze.

The second I stopping scrambling, the snake stopped chasing.

Its body was still curled, ready to spring, ready to attack at any second.

And all the while I lay there panting in terror, propped on my elbows, legs spread with the killer snake between my knees, staring at me, its tongue flicking in and out, tasting my fear. Or rather, reading the threat. This much I knew, we learned it in school. Along with the fact that a single bite from an Inland Taipan can kill a hundred adult humans. But hell, when there’s one of them twenty centimetres from your balls, it doesn’t matter what your teachers taught you. You just want that snake gone.

My legs trembled.

That’s when the pearl shell of my riji quivered and picked up the sun.

The rainbow shimmer caught the eyes of the snake.

The Taipan raised its head, not aggressively, but hypnotically.

Its eyes seemed caught in the glint of the pearl shell. Mesmerised.

So much so that it didn’t notice the head of Billy’s spear nudge gently into the sand beneath its curved body.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Geoffrey Knight is the author of more than 30 gay fiction novels, novellas and short stories, ranging in genre from gay adventure, gay romance, gay suspense and gay comedies. He is the recipient of two Rainbow Awards including Best Mystery Winner and Best Overall Gay Fiction Runner-up. His work has been featured in several anthologies including Best Gay Erotica 2013, and he appeared as Guest of Honor at the inaugural Rainbow Con in Florida, 2014.

Geoffrey has worked in advertising, politics and journalism, but nothing is as fun as telling stories. He lives with his partner, their baby daughter, two dogs and two cats in a rambling old house in North Queensland, Australia, where the paint is fraying and life is good.

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Book Blitz: Galaxies and Oceans by N. R. Walker

Galaxies and Oceans | N.R. Walker

Publication date: June 25th 2018

Genres: Adult, LGBTQ+, Romance, MM, contemporary

Seizing his one chance to escape, Ethan Hosking leaves his violent ex-boyfriend, leaves his entire life, and walks into the path of a raging bushfire.

Desperate to start over, a new man named Aubrey Hobbs walks out of the fire-ravaged forest, alive and alone.

With no ID and no money, nothing but his grandfather’s telescope, he goes where the Southern Cross leads him.

Patrick Carney is the resident lighthouse keeper in Hadley Cove, a small town on the remote Kangaroo Island off the coast of South Australia.

After the tragic death of his lover four years ago, he lives a solitary life; just him, a tabby cat, the Indian and Southern Oceans, and a whole lot of loneliness. He’s content with his life until a stranger shows up in town and turns Patrick’s head.

Patrick never expected to be interested in anyone else.

Aubrey never expected to be happy.

Between Aubrey’s love of the stars and Patrick’s love of the ocean, these two fragile hearts must navigate new waters. If they can weather the storm of their pasts, they could very well have a love that eclipses everything.

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EXCERPT

Patrick

I stopped, looked toward the lonely figure still watching the ocean below, and with a deep breath and nothing to lose, I crossed the street and walked toward him.

“Hi,” I said, still a few metres away so as not to scare him.

He spun regardless, his eyes wide. He had dark eyes, pale skin, and I could see short brown hair poking out from under his hood. He looked three days unshaven, and the bump on the bridge of his nose gave his handsome face a rugged edge. “Oh, hi.”

“Didn’t mean to scare ya.” I nodded toward the tumultuous, tumbling ocean. “She’s upset today.”

He looked back out to the rough seas and gave me a quick smile. “It’s actually kinda pretty.”

I scratched at my beard. “I’ve heard it been called cruel, cold, rugged, hellish. The only people who call it pretty are the ones who end up staying.”

He looked back out to sea and smiled. The wind caught his hood and tousled his hair. His cheeks were pink from the cold as was the tip of his nose. He was handsome, no two ways about it. And possibly fifteen years younger than me.

I made myself look away. “What brings you here?”

“Looking,” he answered without turning to me.

“For?” I stared out across the stormy waves with him. “Work? A new beginning?”

He shot me a look. “Something like that.”

I sipped my coffee. “There’s not much work here. Well, that’s not true. There’s a tonne of work; this whole town is weather-beaten and old. Just not much work that pays.”

His lips twitched.

“But you can try the caravan park.” I didn’t let on that I knew that was where he was staying. “Old Frank Hill who runs the place would never say no to help. Maintenance, that kind of thing.”

He turned back to the water, to the wind. “I’ve asked him already.”

“Frank’s just a grumpy old man who thinks anyone under thirty’s a hooligan. I’ll have a word with him if you like.”

“Why would you do that?”

I smiled and gave pause. Why was I offering to help this guy? I didn’t know him from Adam. Sure, he was good-looking, but there was something in his eyes. Something deep, hidden, and burning. Something horrendously painful. Something I recognised.

I faced the angry sea alongside him. “Because you called this ocean pretty.”

Neither of us spoke for a while. I drank my coffee and he turned his empty cup in his hands.

“Anyway,” I said, realising I couldn’t stand around all day. “My name’s Patrick. I live at the lighthouse.”

That made him look at me. “In the lighthouse?”

“No. Not in it. In the residence.”

“Oh. Cool.”

“Well, it’s almost two hundred years old, made from sandstone, and it’s tiny. But yes, it’s cool.” I smiled as the wind whipped around us. “I should go. I have work to do, but I’ll call around and see Frank after lunch.” I pulled the newspaper out from under my arm, and his eyes darted to the front page.

He stared so long I turned it around so he could read it, but he shot me a look that I couldn’t place, and it was gone so fast I’d wondered if I’d seen it. He stepped back. “Yeah, um, thanks. That’d be great.”

It wasn’t until I got home that I realised what the look on his face was. It was fear. And I realised I didn’t know his name.

Author Bio:

N.R. Walker is an Australian author, who loves her genre of gay romance. She loves writing and spends far too much time doing it, but wouldn’t have it any other way.

She is many things; a mother, a wife, a sister, a writer. She has pretty, pretty boys who live in her head, who don’t let her sleep at night unless she gives them life with words.

She likes it when they do dirty, dirty things…but likes it even more when they fall in love.

She used to think having people in her head talking to her was weird, until one day she happened across other writers who told her it was normal.

She’s been writing ever since…

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Release Blitz: Test of Valor by Keira Andrews

Test of Valor | Keira Andrews

Valor #2

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Cover Design: Dar Albert @ Wicked Smart Designs
Length: 70,000 words approx.
 
Valor Series

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Blurb

They’re free of the White House, but can their forbidden romance survive in the real world?

With his father no longer president, twenty-two-year-old Rafa Castillo can finally be with ex-Secret Service agent Shane Kendrick. Shane’s given up his career for Rafa, a move his fellow agents question the sanity and morality of.

Eager to get away from the questions and judgement, Rafa and Shane are building a new life together in Australia. Though Shane struggles with nightmares and his over-protective instincts while Rafa fights his own insecurity, they love each other more than ever.

Now they just have to get through a visit from the former president and first lady.

Rafa’s parents certainly don’t approve of his romance with forty-year-old Shane, and they’re determined to make him see reason. They don’t see how their son could possibly be happy settling down with an older man, and they question Shane’s motives.

Shane and Rafa just want a normal life together—but when they must suddenly battle for survival, they fight to prove their fierce love can withstand any threat.

This gay romance from Keira Andrews is the conclusion of the Valor duology. It features a May-December age difference, sex on the beach, and – of course – a happy ending.

About Keira

After writing for years yet never really finding the right inspiration, Keira discovered her voice in gay romance, which has become a passion.

She writes contemporary, historical, fantasy, and paranormal fiction and — although she loves delicious angst along the way — Keira firmly believes in happy endings.

For as Oscar Wilde once said:

“The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. That is what fiction means.”

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Loved the way Adam’s blindness was approached

Blind PassionBlind Passion by Penny Brandon

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

3.5*

I liked a lot about this book but I had a couple of niggles, which may not bother anyone else, which meant I’ve rounded down to 3.5 rather than 4.

My biggest niggle was that Luke ‘read’ a lot older than his 22 years and the timeframe for all that had happened to him didn’t quite appear to add up.

Now, as this is set in Australia, it may be that school age/college/apprenticeships are slightly different to here in the UK so I’m just going with the flow. I think if he’d just been a couple of years older it would have felt more believable.

My other niggle is a bit of a spoiler which I don’t want to tag as it would give away a big plot element but, for me, while beautifully written, it felt out of place in a contemporary romance.

However, that aside, I thought the way the author approached Adam’s blindness and how he developed feelings for Luke was brilliantly done and I adored the relationship between them and the emotionally driven way they began to trust and rely on each other.

#ARC kindly received from the author in return for an honest and unbiased review.

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Release Blitz: The Station by Keira Andrews

 Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK

 Cover Design: Dar Albert @ Wicked Smart Designs
 Blurb


Ever since Cambridge-bound Colin Lancaster spied on stable master Patrick Callahan mastering another man, he’s longed for Patrick to do the same to him. When Patrick is caught with his pants down and threatened with death for his crime, Colin speaks up in his defense and confesses his own sinful nature. They’re soon banished to the faraway prison colony of Australia.

Patrick never asked for Colin’s help, and now he’s stuck with the pampered fool. While it’s true that being transported to Australia is a far cry from the luxury Colin is accustomed to, he’s determined to make the best of it and prove himself. Although Patrick learned long ago that love is a fairy tale, he’s inexorably drawn to sweet, optimistic Colin.

From the miserable depths of a prison ship to the vast, untamed Australian outback, Colin and Patrick must rely on each other. Danger lurks everywhere, and when they unexpectedly get the chance to escape to a new life as cowboys, they’ll need each other more than ever.

This historical gay romance from Keira Andrews features an age difference, an eager virgin, hurt/comfort, and of course a happy ending.

Excerpt


Waiting only a moment after knocking, Colin’s mother, Elizabeth, entered his room. Colin glanced over from the window seat. He’d been watching Patrick in the meadow exercising the young colt born several days before. “Yes, Mother?”

Elizabeth was forty-two and quite beautiful, with a regal nose and posture and the same thick, chestnut brown hair as Colin. “You haven’t bathed yet? Guests will be arriving within the hour.”

“I was about to, if you’d leave me to my privacy.”

When he wasn’t studying or walking the grounds, Colin whiled away the hours sitting by his window reading novels of thrilling adventures in faraway lands. Sometimes Patrick would appear in the meadow, training the horses. Colin’s book would lie forgotten on his lap as he watched Patrick at work. He seemed as if he belonged in one of the fictional tales Colin devoured. Colin could easily imagine him with sword in hand.

“Of course, dear. I had Charles press your jacket. It’s hanging there.” She pointed across the room, where, sure enough, his formal wear waited. “Katherine was partial to that one, if I do recall.”

Colin couldn’t hold back a sigh. “Yes.”

“Darling, you gave up on Katherine far too easily. Tonight will be another chance for you to win her hand. You’re quite a catch, you know. Off to Cambridge soon. Katherine will want to ensnare you now.”

“Mother, Katherine Crawford has turned her favor elsewhere. She’s moved on.” So had he. Most definitely.

Elizabeth’s pretty face pinched into a frown. “It’s an honor that the Crawfords are attending this evening. You will be on your best behavior. I don’t know what exactly you did to ruin things with Katherine, but tonight you will do your utmost to undo it.”

“Yes, Mother.” He would attempt no such thing, but Colin had learned years before that arguing with his parents got him nowhere. Soon he’d be at Cambridge and he would be able to make his own decisions. Soon he’d have a new life.

Mollified, Elizabeth closed the door behind her. Flopping down on his bed, Colin thought of Katherine and cringed. It wasn’t until a most ill-fated outing with Katherine Crawford several months ago that Colin had admitted to himself that his interest in Patrick was far from intellectual.

Katherine was a beauty, all glossy blonde hair and moist, pink lips. For some reason Colin couldn’t fathom, she had shown an interest in him at a holiday gathering down the road. The courting had begun soon thereafter, with Colin escorting Katherine on various activities. Unlike William, who railed against the inconveniences of chaperones, Colin was grateful for the matrons’ presence.

He liked Katherine well enough. She was intelligent and kind and pleasing to look at. But Colin knew something was missing. Katherine didn’t set his blood on fire, and he rarely thought of her when she was absent.

The absences were as long as Colin could manage while still maintaining the guise of courting. He was a perfect gentleman at all times with Katherine, which he found a simple feat. William and his school chums all needled him in private and made winking suggestions of what was actually going on between him and Katherine, and Colin let them believe what they wanted.

The Lancasters and Crawfords had both been guests at a country estate for an Easter celebration. Colin’s sister, Rebecca, was delighted. On the ride over, she had chattered constantly about the beautiful Katherine and how she might one day be her sister-in-law. Colin loved his sister dearly but wished she’d find a new interest.

Colin had been fast asleep the first night at the country estate when Katherine crept into his room. Despite his protests about the impropriety, she’d insisted he dress and accompany her for a moonlight stroll. He hadn’t really a choice.

It went badly.

Despite Katherine’s obvious beauty and heaving bosom, Colin had remained utterly uninterested. He’d tried. Truly, he did. Under a large willow tree, Colin had kissed Katherine and caressed her soft skin under her skirt, her hand firm on his wrist, guiding him. He had been unable to get excited, and when she’d reached for him to find him flaccid, Katherine Crawford had had quite enough.

She’d stomped back to her room and avoided Colin for the remainder of the weekend. Colin could hardly meet anyone’s eyes. His family had obviously required an explanation, and he’d had none.

When they returned home after a torturous journey, Colin had jumped from the carriage, eager to be away from his inquiring parents and sister, who’d demanded to know how Colin had made such a mess of things. Colin had almost barreled straight into Patrick, who had come to take the horses. At the sight of him, his lean muscles, his maleness, Colin had been struck with the vivid memories of what he’d witnessed in the stable that day long ago. He had to bite his tongue to stop himself from begging Patrick to take him into some dark corner and have his way with him.

That was what he wanted. He would never want the Katherine Crawfords of the world. No matter how beautiful, how rich, how ideal for a wife. Colin wanted a man. Oh, God, did he want a man.

“Can I be of assistance?” Patrick had affected a guileless expression, and Colin had realized he’d been staring dumbly.

Awkward and ready to crawl out of his own skin, Colin had mumbled something and hurried off. All the denials he’d repeated to himself had finally been silenced. He’d locked himself in his room, took himself in hand, and, muffling his face in a pillow as he thought of Patrick, attained the most satisfying release he’d experienced since that day at sixteen years old, hiding in the stable.

Remembering now, Colin stroked himself quickly, careful not to muss himself too much before the party. He thought of Patrick, of his Gaelic lullaby and of his grunts as he’d penetrated the man in the stable years before. As he rubbed himself with one hand, legs spread, Colin caressed his lips with his fingertips, imagining what it would be like to be kissed—really kissed. He didn’t even know if men kissed each other, but he would like to try it.

Sometime later, Colin straightened his navy tie and vest under his dark jacket and peered into the full-length mirror in the corner of his bedroom. His large eyes were a deep brown that matched his hair, and his jaw was narrow. His nose was straight and unremarkable. Katherine had once told him that his smile turned her knees to jelly and his eyes were bottomless pools she could stare into for eternity.

Colin doubted it, somehow.

He decided he looked as presentable as he was able to and went to join the party. Naturally, the first person he saw was Katherine. Dressed to the nines in an ornate, yellow, bell-shaped gown and looking lovely, she was laughing gaily at something William had said. Her hand was placed just so on his arm, and Colin saw the flash of her eyes as she spotted him. She laughed again, even louder.

Colin felt like laughing himself. If she only knew. Before he could do anything, Rebecca towed him into the drawing room, her voice low and urgent, grip firm. “Honestly, I don’t know what William is thinking. You mustn’t pay them any mind, Colin. Are you very upset?” Her pretty face, very much like their mother’s, creased with worry.

Shaking his head, Colin kissed his dear sister’s cheek. “I won’t give it another thought. William is welcome to her. Perhaps Father will take some solace if the family is connected to the Crawfords in the end.”

Rebecca, fourteen and very dramatic, hugged him tightly. “Oh, Colin. You’re ever so brave.”

Biting back his mirth, Colin thanked her and pointed her toward her newly arriving friends from down the road. He made his rounds of the soiree, shaking hands and making polite conversation. Dinner was served, and Colin listened to a neighbor tell him about what a wonderful time he’d have at Cambridge. Colin hoped it would be true. The one thing dampening his excitement about finally getting away from home was that he’d also be leaving Patrick behind.

As he spooned his custard, Colin brooded. He knew it was deeply foolish, since the strange affection and desire he had for Patrick was certainly one-sided. He’d only been a child when they were friends. Even if by some miracle Patrick desired him now that he was grown, would Colin really have the nerve to lie with another man? His trousers tightened at the notion, and he was glad for the napkin across his lap.

After dinner, Colin endured the ladies’ singing and gentlemen’s card games. Unable to shake Patrick from his mind as the night wore on, he found himself walking to the stable, unable to stay away. He was almost there when a cry came up. A man burst out from the large wooden doors and fled across the meadow, barely visible in the darkness. In the lantern light from the stable, Patrick tumbled outside, followed by two men Colin recognized as shopkeepers in the next county. Brothers named Harris, he thought.

Colin realized he was running and skidded to a halt just as one of the brothers landed a vicious kick to Patrick’s ribs. “Stop!” Colin shoved the man aside. Blood already streamed from Patrick’s nose and mouth.

The man ignored Colin as if he were naught but a fly, and kicked Patrick again. “Unnatural piece of filth!”

Several other guests who heard the melee drew near. The other Harris brother called out to them. “We need the inspector. A crime’s been committed here.”

“What crime?” Colin demanded.

The man spit at the ground where Patrick lay beaten. “Buggery.”

The world tilted on its axis, and Colin’s stomach churned. He realized Patrick’s breeches were loose, and that the man he’d seen fleeing must have been…

Suddenly Colin’s father was there. In the lantern light, Colin could see the rage on his father’s face, and it chilled him. Edward was short and stout, yet an imposing presence. He issued a terse command to the Harris brothers to follow him and bring Patrick.

Patrick was dragged around the back of the manor house, a growing number of curious guests following. Several women were told to go back to the party, and the servants watched with wide eyes as the brothers hauled Patrick through the kitchen. Inside Edward’s study, a group of men gathered. Patrick was deposited on his knees in the middle of the room as Colin crowded inside with the others. They were soon joined by Colin’s mother.

“What’s going on?” she hissed to her husband. “There are whispers everywhere.”

Edward barely spared her a glance. “This is no place for a woman. An ungodly crime has been committed. Go see to the other guests and tell them everything is fine. We don’t want this getting out.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Tell me what’s happened!” Elizabeth’s cheeks flamed.

The man who’d kicked Patrick spoke. “My wife is feeling ill, so my brother and I went to the stable to ask for our carriage to be brought round.”

“Ill? Not from the food?” Elizabeth appeared horrified.

“For God’s sake, woman, forget the food!” A vein in Edward’s temple throbbed, and Colin feared his father might explode with rage.

“Where’s the other one?” Colin glanced behind him, surprised to hear William’s voice. Apparently the whispers were indeed spreading.

One of the Harris brothers answered. “Gone. I think it was the Nelsons’ carriage driver. Quick bastard, we couldn’t catch him. This one was still tangled up in his breeches. Caught him dead to rights.”

“No need to get the courts involved. Take him out back and hang him from his bollocks,” said one of the other guests.

There was a murmur of agreement, and Edward seemed to seriously be considering it. Colin’s panic increased exponentially as the tension simmered. Many of those present had long been into their cups, and a reckless air swirled through the room. He looked to Patrick, who knelt silently, blood dripping down his face, his hands now bound behind his back. Colin hadn’t seen who restrained him.

“Kill him,” agreed one of the Harrises. To Patrick, he said, “Wouldn’t you rather be put out of your misery now than rot in a jail cell knowing you’re going to the gallows? We’d be doing you a favor.”

The murmur of assent grew frighteningly loud. “Should have expected it from an Irishman,” someone shouted.

“Hang ’im! Save the courts some time and money.” The bookkeeper from the local village reached for Patrick, attempting to haul him to his feet as other men cried their agreement.

“No!” When all eyes turned to him, Colin realized he’d spoken aloud. “No. You can’t kill him.” He thought of that day six years before, when Patrick had raced after him and plucked him from the fleeing stallion. His heart hammered as it had that day.

Edward’s eyes narrowed. “Colin, the punishment for buggery is death. It’s what he deserves. This man—if you can call an animal a man—is a degenerate criminal.”

“Then so am I!”

Silence gripped the room in an instant, as if everyone held their breath collectively. Elizabeth went pale. “Colin, you have no idea what you’re saying.” She pulled his arm, urging him toward the door. “I’m sorry, everyone; he’s had far too much brandy this evening. He isn’t himself.”

Colin yanked his arm away. “No, Mother. I know what I’m saying.” He swallowed, his throat dry and thick. “I am myself.” Perhaps for the first time.

A shocked William spoke up, his eyes wide. “Colin, this is madness!”

Edward simply stared, stunned into silence for the first time in Colin’s memory. Elizabeth pulled at him again, but Colin shook free. “If you will kill this man for his crime, then you’ll have to kill me too. Shall you take me outside and string me up?”

“What in God’s name are you doing?” Patrick spoke for the first time, and all eyes turned to where he knelt. He stared at Colin with dazed astonishment.

The sound of Patrick’s voice seemed to spur Edward out of his daze. Edward turned a murderous gaze on Patrick. “If you’ve laid a finger on my son, I swear—”

“I’d sooner bed a horse,” Patrick sneered.

“And probably has!” a voice called out.

Colin felt a ridiculous stab of pain at Patrick’s words.

Patrick went on. “Sir, your son is clearly not in his right mind.”

William’s father, John, a lawyer, spoke next. He was tall and distinguished, the opposite of his brother, Edward. He seemed to be the only calm person left in the room. “Colin, are you saying you’ve committed acts of buggery?”

“Yes.” Even if it wasn’t true, Colin couldn’t let them kill Patrick. At least not tonight, not if he could help it.

Elizabeth shrieked and collapsed into a chair. “Oh, my son. What have you done? It can’t be true!”

“I’m sorry, Mother. They’ll have to kill us both.”

“Don’t listen to him! For God’s sake!” Patrick tried to stand but was shoved back down by Edward, whose face flamed with rage.

John spoke up. “No one’s killing anyone.” He turned to the Harris brothers. “Did you witness the act?”

One of them laughed tersely. “Didn’t have to. They heard us coming, and the other one was off and running. But we saw and heard enough to know what was going on.”

John pondered this, and everyone waited. He seemed to have quietly taken control of the proceedings, for which Colin was grateful. He hoped Patrick wouldn’t be harmed any further for the moment.

“No concrete evidence. None in regards to Colin either,” John said after a lengthy pause.

“Because it’s not true!” Elizabeth cried.

John ignored her and turned to Edward. “I have some friends in the magistrate’s office who should be able to help. I’ll go speak to George Crawford and get him on our side. But too many people have heard Colin’s confession. Something must be done.”

Edward nodded grimly, not looking at Colin. He pointed to Patrick. “We’ll keep this one locked in the pantry for the night. Colin will be in his room with a guard placed outside. William, take him upstairs.”

The shock of his actions slowly settling in, Colin didn’t resist as William led him away. They opened the door to the study to find the hallway crowded with party guests. Katherine was among them, her delicate face transformed into a hard mask. “Fiend!” She dashed down the hall, weeping.

Accusing eyes glared from all sides, and William led Colin to the servants’ back stairway, sparing him the spectacle of being marched up the grand staircase. In his room, Colin tried to speak. “Will, I…”

William raised a hand. “Don’t.” He shook his head sadly, his expression deeply wounded. “I don’t understand. I’ve always thought of you as a dear friend. A brother. Now I feel I’ve never known you at all.” He turned his back, closing the door behind him. A moment later, Colin heard the key turn in the lock, and his life as he knew it was over.

Author Bio

After writing for years yet never really finding the right inspiration, Keira discovered her voice in gay romance, which has become a passion. She writes contemporary, historical, fantasy, and paranormal fiction and — although she loves delicious angst along the way — Keira firmly believes in happy endings. For as Oscar Wilde once said:

“The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. That is what fiction means.”

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