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Audio Blitz: The Real Baxter by Lane Hayes & Narrated by Michael Ferraiuolo

The Real Baxter | Lane Hayes

The Real Baxter Audio Banner

Narrated by: Michael Ferraiuolo

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 10 hrs and 48 mins

Buy Link: Audible

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Blurb

The silver-fox and the faux bodyguard…

Sebastian

Who’s the true hero behind the Hollywood heartthrob, crime-fighting, adventure-seeking international man of mystery? Me. I’m the real Baxter.

Well, I wear the suit and let the action play out onscreen. You want to know the secret of my success? Sell the story you want to tell. Even if you have to bend the truth a little.

Okay…a lot.

Trust me, no one will notice. Except Trent, who seems to notice everything. And for some reason, I like that. I like him. I’m just not sure what to do about it.

Trent

Look, I’m not exactly killing it. I’m a typical struggling actor-slash-waiter, hoping for a break. And boom…in walks Sebastian Rourke. He’s a cutthroat, wickedly charming silver fox, a Hollywood legend in the making. No joke. You’ve got to sell a piece of your soul to get in this man’s orbit. Or fake a British accent, then take a job playing bodyguard to fool the press. As one does.

I know I should take advantage of the very strange situation I find myself in, but I’m not sure I’m cut out for it. However, I’m willing to take a chance, ’cause I want the real Seb.

Even though it might cost me everything.

The Real Baxter is a MM age-gap, bisexual romance featuring the man who has everything and the actor who’s willing to show him what’s real.

Audio Teaser

Excerpt

“Home sweet home, eh?”

Seb gathered his suit coat and his takeout bag with a strained smile. “Something like that.”

“Hey, for what it’s worth, I didn’t mean to offend you earlier. Under different circumstances, I might go for a guy like you.”

His snort-laugh oozed sarcasm. “Wow, I’m flattered.”

I shrugged, aware that I should probably stop talking. Of course, I couldn’t do it. “You’re real. I get that. It’s just that…observationally speaking, real you and real me don’t mix. We got nothin’ in common.”

Seb unfastened his seat belt and whirled to face me. I couldn’t read him in the shadows. It would have been nice to know if he was amused or irked…or both. “Okay, first of all, ‘observationally speaking’ is a terrible way to begin any sentence and second—and most important, you know nothing about ‘real me.’ ”

I held my hands up in surrender. “You’re right. I had no idea you were the rich, old dude in the ‘Who’s your type?’ scenario.”

“I never said I was, but now that you think I am…you suddenly want to date me, eh?”

“Date you?” I scratched my temple as if mulling over the idea. “No way. But I’d totally do you.”

Seb froze with his hand on the door lever, threw his head back, and guffawed.

He literally had the best laugh I’d ever heard—contagious, hearty, and kind of wicked. It bounced merrily off the old car’s interior, making everything feel shiny and new. Including me. I couldn’t help smiling.

I tried to think of something clever and somewhat humorous to keep his attention for another minute or two, but I got sidetracked, staring at his stubbled jaw, full lips, and the deep crinkles at the corners of his eyes. For a half a beat, I wished he were someone else—less in demand, less wealthy, less connected.

Crazy, I know. This was why I didn’t go for sophisticated types. I didn’t stand a chance with a guy like Seb.

And on that dose of reality…I inclined my head with a meaningful grunt as he composed himself.

“You have no idea how tempting that sounds. Thanks for the ride. Thanks for tonight. It was…exactly what I needed.”

“Happy to be of service.”

He pulled at the handle—once, twice… “The door is stuck.”

“It does that sometimes. You just have to wiggle the handle.”

Seb tried again. “No, it’s definitely stuck.”

I unfastened my seat belt and leaned across him. Bad move. I breathed in the scent of his cologne and felt scorched by his body heat.

And of course, the door didn’t budge. I turned off the engine and held a finger up, signaling a bright idea on the horizon.

“Hang on. We’ll do this the old-fashioned way.” I hopped out of the car and used my key to manually unlock the passenger side door with a flourish. “Ta-da!”

He unfolded his long legs, somehow managing to look like an A-list celebrity sliding from the back seat of a limo at a red-carpet event. He slung his suit coat over the crook of his arm, grabbed his to-go bag, and stepped aside.

“Thank you.”

“I’m the one who should be thanking you. So, thanks for taking me to pick up my wheels, thanks for drinks and the burger, and thanks for not laughing at my impromptu Baxter audition.”

Seb grinned. “You’re welcome. It was…fun.”

I nodded, shoving my hands into my pockets awkwardly before angling my head toward the house. “You really rattle around in that place by yourself?”

“Yeah. My kids are here a lot. I have Oliver tomorrow and…” He squinted as if looking for something or someone in the dark. “I have friends.”

“You do?” I teased.

He made a funny face. “One or two. I think.”

We smiled as if sharing a joke. But the punchline was a silent acknowledgment of temporary camaraderie. We weren’t friends or coworkers. He probably wouldn’t remember my name next week.

However, right this very moment, we had a connection. Maybe it was akin to making friends with your seatmate on a long flight, but it was something.

I held on to it fiercely, marking the ticking seconds to the soundtrack of chirping crickets and the rustle of leaves in the late summer evening breeze. I studied the sharp planes of his cheekbones, softened by the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. I noted the hint of gray in his close-shaven beard when he licked his bottom lip and—

Oh, fuck.

Yeah, time to go.

“I should, uh…” I hiked my thumb behind me, then rested my hand on the open door. I was about to close it when I spotted his milkshake. “Do you want your shake?”

“Um…” Seb switched the to-go bag to his left hand and stepped toward me. “I think it’s gone.”

I pulled it from the cupholder and turned to find him closer than expected. As in…we stood grungy boot to Italian loafer.

I shook the cup. “Might be a little something in there.”

“No, I’m done. I can throw it away in the house. I don’t want to leave trash in your car.”

I scoffed. “Dude, have you seen my car?”

Seb chuckled…and I joined in.

When his laughter faded, we were back to staring at each other. Only now, it wasn’t awkward. It was…something completely different. A little unsteady and unsure, but somehow promising.

I didn’t move. I didn’t sidle past him with an absent good-bye or a bro high five. I didn’t try to draw him into more conversation. I didn’t want to break the spell…as if I had any power over what was happening.

And something was definitely happening. Maybe because it was so unexpected, it took me a few extra seconds to define it.

Lust. Hunger. Need.

He wanted me.

Meet the Author

Lane Hayes

Lane Hayes loves a good romance! An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters.

Her debut novel was a 2013 Rainbow Award finalist and subsequent books have received Honorable Mentions and/or were winners in the 2016, 2017, 2018-2019, 2020-2021 Rainbow Awards.

She loves red wine, chocolate and travel (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband in a not quite empty nest.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Instagram | BookBub

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Release Blitz: The Real Baxter by Lane Hayes

The Real Baxter | Lane Hayes

The Baxter Chronicles #1

The Real Baxter Banner

Release Date: March 4, 2022

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 99K

Universal Link: mybook.to/The-Real-Baxter

Add to Goodreads

READ MY REVIEW

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Blurb

The silver-fox and the faux bodyguard…

Sebastian

Who’s the true hero behind the Hollywood heartthrob, crime-fighting, adventure-seeking international man of mystery? Me. I’m the real Baxter.

Well, I wear the suit and let the action play out onscreen. You want to know the secret of my success? Sell the story you want to tell. Even if you have to bend the truth a little.

Okay…a lot.

Trust me, no one will notice. Except Trent, who seems to notice everything. And for some reason, I like that. I like him. I’m just not sure what to do about it.

Trent

Look, I’m not exactly killing it. I’m a typical struggling actor-slash-waiter, hoping for a break. And boom…in walks Sebastian Rourke. He’s a cutthroat, wickedly charming silver fox, a Hollywood legend in the making. No joke. You’ve got to sell a piece of your soul to get in this man’s orbit. Or fake a British accent, then take a job playing bodyguard to fool the press. As one does.

I know I should take advantage of the very strange situation I find myself in, but I’m not sure I’m cut out for it. However, I’m willing to take a chance, ’cause I want the real Seb.

Even though it might cost me everything.

The Real Baxter is a MM age-gap, bisexual romance featuring the man who has everything and the actor who’s willing to show him what’s real.

Teaser

Excerpt

“Home sweet home, eh?”

Seb gathered his suit coat and his takeout bag with a strained smile. “Something like that.”

“Hey, for what it’s worth, I didn’t mean to offend you earlier. Under different circumstances, I might go for a guy like you.”

His snort-laugh oozed sarcasm. “Wow, I’m flattered.”

I shrugged, aware that I should probably stop talking. Of course, I couldn’t do it. “You’re real. I get that. It’s just that…observationally speaking, real you and real me don’t mix. We got nothin’ in common.”

Seb unfastened his seat belt and whirled to face me. I couldn’t read him in the shadows. It would have been nice to know if he was amused or irked…or both. “Okay, first of all, ‘observationally speaking’ is a terrible way to begin any sentence and second—and most important, you know nothing about ‘real me.’ ”

I held my hands up in surrender. “You’re right. I had no idea you were the rich, old dude in the ‘Who’s your type?’ scenario.”

“I never said I was, but now that you think I am…you suddenly want to date me, eh?”

“Date you?” I scratched my temple as if mulling over the idea. “No way. But I’d totally do you.”

Seb froze with his hand on the door lever, threw his head back, and guffawed.

He literally had the best laugh I’d ever heard—contagious, hearty, and kind of wicked. It bounced merrily off the old car’s interior, making everything feel shiny and new. Including me. I couldn’t help smiling.

I tried to think of something clever and somewhat humorous to keep his attention for another minute or two, but I got sidetracked, staring at his stubbled jaw, full lips, and the deep crinkles at the corners of his eyes. For a half a beat, I wished he were someone else—less in demand, less wealthy, less connected.

Crazy, I know. This was why I didn’t go for sophisticated types. I didn’t stand a chance with a guy like Seb.

And on that dose of reality…I inclined my head with a meaningful grunt as he composed himself.

“You have no idea how tempting that sounds. Thanks for the ride. Thanks for tonight. It was…exactly what I needed.”

“Happy to be of service.”

He pulled at the handle—once, twice… “The door is stuck.”

“It does that sometimes. You just have to wiggle the handle.”

Seb tried again. “No, it’s definitely stuck.”

I unfastened my seat belt and leaned across him. Bad move. I breathed in the scent of his cologne and felt scorched by his body heat.

And of course, the door didn’t budge. I turned off the engine and held a finger up, signaling a bright idea on the horizon.

“Hang on. We’ll do this the old-fashioned way.” I hopped out of the car and used my key to manually unlock the passenger side door with a flourish. “Ta-da!”

He unfolded his long legs, somehow managing to look like an A-list celebrity sliding from the back seat of a limo at a red-carpet event. He slung his suit coat over the crook of his arm, grabbed his to-go bag, and stepped aside.

“Thank you.”

“I’m the one who should be thanking you. So, thanks for taking me to pick up my wheels, thanks for drinks and the burger, and thanks for not laughing at my impromptu Baxter audition.”

Seb grinned. “You’re welcome. It was…fun.”

I nodded, shoving my hands into my pockets awkwardly before angling my head toward the house. “You really rattle around in that place by yourself?”

“Yeah. My kids are here a lot. I have Oliver tomorrow and…” He squinted as if looking for something or someone in the dark. “I have friends.”

“You do?” I teased.

He made a funny face. “One or two. I think.”

We smiled as if sharing a joke. But the punchline was a silent acknowledgment of temporary camaraderie. We weren’t friends or coworkers. He probably wouldn’t remember my name next week.

However, right this very moment, we had a connection. Maybe it was akin to making friends with your seatmate on a long flight, but it was something.

I held on to it fiercely, marking the ticking seconds to the soundtrack of chirping crickets and the rustle of leaves in the late summer evening breeze. I studied the sharp planes of his cheekbones, softened by the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. I noted the hint of gray in his close-shaven beard when he licked his bottom lip and—

Oh, fuck.

Yeah, time to go.

“I should, uh…” I hiked my thumb behind me, then rested my hand on the open door. I was about to close it when I spotted his milkshake. “Do you want your shake?”

“Um…” Seb switched the to-go bag to his left hand and stepped toward me. “I think it’s gone.”

I pulled it from the cupholder and turned to find him closer than expected. As in…we stood grungy boot to Italian loafer.

I shook the cup. “Might be a little something in there.”

“No, I’m done. I can throw it away in the house. I don’t want to leave trash in your car.”

I scoffed. “Dude, have you seen my car?”

Seb chuckled…and I joined in.

When his laughter faded, we were back to staring at each other. Only now, it wasn’t awkward. It was…something completely different. A little unsteady and unsure, but somehow promising.

I didn’t move. I didn’t sidle past him with an absent good-bye or a bro high five. I didn’t try to draw him into more conversation. I didn’t want to break the spell…as if I had any power over what was happening.

And something was definitely happening. Maybe because it was so unexpected, it took me a few extra seconds to define it.

Lust. Hunger. Need.

He wanted me.

Lane Hayes

About the Author

Lane Hayes loves a good romance! An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters.

Her debut novel was a 2013 Rainbow Award finalist and subsequent books have received Honorable Mentions and/or were winners in the 2016, 2017, 2018-2019, 2020-2021 Rainbow Awards. She loves red wine, chocolate and travel (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband in a not quite empty nest.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Instagram | BookBub

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Release Boost: Bona Fide Fake by Rebecca Raine

Bona Fide Fake | Rebecca Raine

Experimental Love #2

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Release Date: January 24th, 2022

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Blurb

My new fake boyfriend may not like me, but he needs me. There are worse foundations for a relationship.

Ned

Toni Fairweather is a liar and a fake. I suspected it the day we met, but when he lies to his friends about being my boyfriend, I know for sure. I’ll play along with his deception, but Toni will owe me – big time.

I have my own reasons for needing a boyfriend. Someone who can handle me. Someone who can keep me in line. Toni is demanding enough to fulfil every requirement.

I don’t need to like the man… to obey him.

Toni

I never meant to fake a relationship with the lead singer of a local rock band. But the fib popped out over lunch with my best friend, and now I’m expected to present my new boyfriend at his engagement party next month.

The good news? I’m not the only one in need of a date.

Being boyfriends for a month shouldn’t be hard, but I do have one condition: this won’t be some fake boyfriends deal. I want a real relationship, and Ned’s going to give it to me.

BFF_Teaser_Belong

Excerpt

“All I’m saying is, if we happen to be approached by a record label while we’re at the music festival next weekend, it won’t be the worst thing in the world.”

Rolling my eyes, I yank open the door to the building where my friend, Logan, rents a small office. The sooner I find him, the sooner I’ll have an excuse to hang up on Johnny. “We don’t need to belong to a label to be a successful band,” I remind him. “Our EP is doing well on all the streaming services. We’re making money. We’re playing gigs. What more do you want?”

“I want to hear our songs on the fucking radio, Ned.”

I grit my teeth and resist the urge to groan aloud. This is exactly what I feared when Johnny and the boys asked me to join Fifth Circle as their permanent front man two years ago. They’d sworn they were content to be a pub band, playing music on weekends and having a good time. The claim proved true—until recently.

My fingers tighten around the bottle of scotch in my left hand as I stalk deeper into the building. The place is a rabbit warren. Designed as a co-working space, it’s bursting with entrepreneurs intent on building their own mini empires. It seems everyone wants to be on top of the pile these days.

“Since when do you have aspirations of rock stardom?” I ask Johnny as I scan the desks for any sign of Logan.

“Since my wife left me for some arsehole with a Porsche,” he snaps. “Nothing says fuck you like having a song on the radio that literally has fuck you in the chorus.”

“Except I’d be the one singing the chorus, and most stations bleep that shit out, anyway.”

“Not all of them,” he grumbles. “Besides, she’d get the point.”

Stopping in a less crowded area, I hold the phone closer to make sure Johnny can hear me over the background noise. “I agreed to play the Autumn Skies Festival because I know you’ve been through hell and need to blow off some steam. But you never said anything about using it as a steppingstone to bigger things. I never agreed to that.”

“Don’t you ever get hungry anymore?” Johnny hisses in my ear. “When we were kids, playing in our first band and pissing off the neighbours, you were damned near starving. Out of all of us, you were the one who was going to make it. You were the only one who ever really tried.” He pauses with a frustrated sigh. “What the hell happened to you in Sydney?”

My jaw clenches, and I swallow past the sudden constriction in my throat. “I grew up. Realised I’m better off on a stage where the lights aren’t bright enough to blind. That’s where I intend to stay.”

A tense silence beats between us as I wait for his response.

“Fine.” Johnny heaves a sigh. “It was just a suggestion, anyway. You’re so bloody dramatic.”

Closing my eyes, I release a pent-up breath of my own. Dread already fills my gut every time I think about going down to Byron Bay for next weekend’s festival, knowing my ex-boyfriend will be there. It’s been more than three years since I saw Zac. Not since the night I fled his house, blocked his number, and flew home to Brisbane. We never even broke up. Not officially.

“I’m gonna go,” I tell Johnny, hoping he won’t notice the rough edge in my voice. “If I don’t find Logan soon, I’ll end up lost in this maze forever.” We say a quick goodbye and I slide the phone into my back pocket.

A man sitting behind a nearby desk waves me over. “You’re looking for Logan Delaney?” he asks. At my nod, he gestures to a hallway behind me. “He and Tony are at the end of the hall.”

“Thanks, mate.”

“Watch out for Tony,” the man adds as I’m turning away. “He’s a bit extra today.” The slight exaggeration is the only variation in the otherwise bored tone.

“Appreciate the warning.” I have no idea who he’s talking about. Not that it matters. I’m only here to deliver the scotch to Logan. Then I’ll be off again.

The door at the end of the hall has a laminated sign with Logan’s business name and a cheery ‘Come on in’ underneath. I knock before easing the door open.

“For fuck’s sake, Rodney. I’m sorry I missed your housewarming.” The clipped voice is sharp enough to lash the air and I pause, unsure if it’s safe to step inside. “I got caught up at a friend’s place and lost track of time. You know how I get when I’m distracted.”

I snort at the lame excuse. This must be the very extra Tony.

Deciding there’s no actual danger, I step through the doorway and close the door behind me. The office is small but modern. There’s enough room for two large desks on one side. The opposite wall is taken up by a small kitchenette, some storage cupboards, and a couch. The desk at the far end, which must belong to Logan, is currently vacant.

A slender man sits behind the second desk, directly in front of me. His long fingers drum softly against the surface of the wood as he presses a mobile phone to his ear with the other hand. “Of course, I wanted to be there,” he says, not bothering to look up at me. “What could possibly be more appealing on a Saturday night than celebrating you and Leif putting your toothbrushes in the same cup on a permanent basis?”

My brows lift at the barely concealed sarcasm in the man’s voice. If this is his idea of an apology, Rodney should be telling him to get bent right about now.

Crossing my arms, I take a moment to study the man before me. Platinum blond hair is neatly styled above dark sculpted eyebrows. Cheekbones slash across smooth, alabaster skin. The sharp angles provide a contrast to the generous pink mouth, which is currently pursed in displeasure. I’d love to call him pretty—he’s beautiful really, on the outside—but the indifference in his tone and the lack of genuine remorse in his attitude begs a harsher word: fake.

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About the Author

Rebecca Raine - Author Logo

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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To celebrate the release of Bona Fide Fake, Rebecca is giving readers the chance to win 1 of 3 e-copies of winner’s choice of book from Rebecca’s backlist

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