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Release Blitz: You Are Cordially Invited by Jay Hogan

You Are Cordially Invited | Jay Hogan

Auckland Med #5

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Release Date: June 17th 2021

Photographer: Brian Brigantti

Cover Designer: Reese Dante

Universal Link: https://readerlinks.com/l/1829825

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58093393

READ MY REVIEW

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Blurb

There’s a wedding in the air at Auckland Med, but Reuben wonders if they’ll survive the stress long enough to say, ‘I do’. Cam is directing the entire operation with his combat eyeliner in place, whilst the wedding party is doing its best to ignore him. The pressure is mounting and the cracks are beginning to show.

There’s a bachelor party to survive.
The paparazzi to outrun.
A wedding outfit to confirm.
A rugby game to win.
A jerk of a father to cope with.
A stunning opportunity to consider.
A relationship to untangle.
And a shocking event that could derail everything.

With the universe conspiring against them, Reuben and Cam will have to summon every scrap of belief they have in each other to make it to their vows.

YACI 5 flirty

Excerpt

“Kinky tricks, sixty-six.” Carmen Bendover’s sultry voice filled the crowded function room of Downtown G to a cacophony of hoots and hollers. Carmen’s gay bingo events were legendary.

Dressed in a red sequinned evening gown that was pretty much painted on her curvaceous figure; fuck-me black stiletto heels; an impressive cleavage that defied explanation; and a tiara that sparkled almost as much as the mischief in her eyes, the notorious drag queen had captivated the room from the minute she’d sashayed in and wafted her black feather boa seductively under the current, and very straight, All Blacks’ captain’s nose. To his credit, Andrew Simons had run with the challenge and got to his feet to waltz the notoriously sassy drag queen up to the front stage, and Carmen had appeared . . . charmed.

“Come on, you sexy young things.” She arched a brow at the crowd sipping on cocktails with enough alcohol to fuel the next landing probe to Mars. “Someone must at least have a line. If I have to come down there and check people’s cards, I’ll be paddling a bottom or two and leaving a mark. And don’t think I didn’t see the excitement in your eyes at the prospect, Roland James.”

The handsome Blues’ halfback blushed a deep red and everyone laughed. The room was loaded with enough glitter and rugby muscle to make any young gay boy weep, and quite a few of the older ones as well.

“Hey, Carmen.” I got to my feet a little unsteadily and waved my bingo, or rather my bingay card. “I haven’t won anything, and it’s my damn bachelor—”

Our damn bachelor party.” Reuben’s hand glided over my arse.

Our bachelor party,” I corrected with a bow to my fiancé, which was greeted with much banging on tables since everyone knew I was a bossy bitch, and yet somehow, Reuben had my sappy heart wrapped up in enough knots to make a Shibari convention ecstatic.

“Mm-hmm.” Carmen eyeballed me without an ounce of sympathy. “And exactly how many calls have you missed already?”

Most of them. My chin jutted. “Pfft. One or two at the most.”

A blatant lie, which earned me another round of mocking applause. Reuben and I were, in fact, sharing a bingay card—mostly because I’d given up being able to identify any individual numbers a few cocktails back or even hear the calls, apparently.

We were also sharing some increasingly indiscreet gropes, well, at least on my part. Reuben slapping my hand away probably didn’t count.

Carmen smiled like the shark she was. “I rest my case, sugar. Besides, I think you’ve hooked a big enough prize already.” She waggled her impeccably coiffed brows and nodded Reuben’s way, and yeah, it was hard to argue with that. “So sit that pert arse of yours back down on those impressive All Black thighs and let the rest of us drool in peace.”

I did as I was told, which, to be honest, was the least painful way to deal with Carmen. She returned to calling the numbers, and I turned and cuddled up to my fiancé and—fuck, I missed the next number as well.

I grabbed my card and eyeballed Sandy across the table. “Come on, Sandy, you have to be nice to me. It’s my party—”

Our party.” Reuben bit my ear.

Our party. Exactly what I was going to say, baby.” I turned and kissed him soundly on the forehead.

“I’m not telling you a thing.” Sandy side-eyed me and laughed. “If it’s another manicure coupon, I need that prize. Have you forgotten I work in a damn morgue?”

“A pitiful excuse.” I glared at him, which only made his eyes roll. I was clearly losing my edge. “And here I thought you were a friend.”

“Hey, you.” Reuben pulled me back against him in a transparent attempt to sabotage my epic board game skills. “How’s it hanging?” His hot breath brushed my ear, and my dick pinged to attention as best it could in its slightly inebriated state. Having said that, the persistent appendage was nothing if not determined, and Carmen and her bingay went up in a puff of inconsequential smoke.

His arm tightened around my waist, and I turned to place a reasonably well-aimed but sloppy kiss on his lips this time. Yeah, I might have had one or six more than I should have, but it was our damn bachelor party and Rube had my back.

With the rugby season still in process, albeit winding down to the end of year All Blacks’ tour to Europe, Reuben was nauseatingly sober, whereas I . . . wasn’t. And I also wasn’t about to miss any opportunity to get handsy with my own personal All Black booty, especially since all that glorious six foot three inches of rippling power was currently stuffed into a size-too-small—so sue me—black Henley and a pair of silk mix black slacks that fitted those drool-worthy thighs like a fucking glove.

Ninety kilos of eager-to-please hard muscle, and all mine for the taking.

YACI 3 always enough

Start the Series

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/series/259787-auckland-med

About The Author

jay hogan logan

I am a New Zealand author writing in MM romance and romantic suspense. I have travelled extensively and lived in the US, Canada, France, Australia and South Korea. In a past life I have been an Intensive Care Nurse, Counselor, and a Nursing Lecturer.

I’m a cat aficionado especially of Maine Coons, and an avid dog lover (but don’t tell the cat). I love to cook, pretty damn good, love to sing, pretty damn average, and as for loving full-time writing, absolutely… depending of course on the day, the word count, the deadline, how obliging my characters are, the ambient temperature in the Western Sahara, whether Jupiter is rising, the size of the ozone hole over New Zealand and how much coffee I’ve had.

Welcome to my world.

Find Jay in all the places: https://jayhoganauthor.contactin.bio/

YACI 2 loved

You’ll fall in love with Cam and Reuben all over again in this absolute gem

58093393._SY475_You Are Cordially Invited by Jay Hogan

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

If you were expecting this to simply be a tacked on epilogue of sorts to Jay’s utterly brilliant Crossing the Touchline then think again.

This is a full on novel with a deep emotional thread running right through which sees both Cameron and Reuben pushed to their limits by a myriad of different hurdles on their way to the aisle.

Don’t fret though, this is just as swoony as their original love story, they’re still madly in love and utterly committed to each other, even if there are times they need their heads banging together when old fears surface.

As you’d expect from this series, all the rest of the gang are on hand to bolster defences, run interference shields and generally just be the best bunch of friends a sassy Charge Nurse and his All Black fullback could ever need.

I’m not going to spoil the plot, it worked beautifully for me, the tensions were honest and not there for dramady effects, nothing comes with a WTF moment but there were plenty of times I was OMG-ing along the way.

Ultimately, what you get from this book is exactly what you’d expect. Two men who are willing to lay their lives on the line for the other and their families making a lifelong commitment to always be there.

Oh, and it’s insanely hot as well 😉

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

View all my reviews

Release Blitz: Two more Vino & Veritas stories are out today

Today we have two more Release Blitz for the Vino & Veritas series in the Expanded World of True North from Laurel Greer and Jay Hogan

Series Link: https://hearteyespress.com/wotn#/vino-and-veritas/

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Turnabout | Laurel Greer

Vino & Veritas #9

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Universal Link: https://geni.us/AmazonTurnabout

Add to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/35VpOWG

Shorby: https://shor.by/vino-and-veritas

READ MY REVIEW

Blurb

I don’t have time for an unplanned visit home to help out in my father’s struggling letterpress shop. My stint in Vermont will have to be short, for a couple of reasons:

One, I’m a busy executive trying to climb the corporate ladder.

Two, my ex is still my dad’s right-hand man in the shop. And I am not over him.

Nothing has changed at the Burlington shop. Auden still has his infuriatingly sexy Scottish accent. He’s still hot, and still stubborn. Between operating the antique press with his shirtsleeves rolled up, and moonlighting at Burlington’s hottest inclusive wine bar, he pushes every one of my attraction buttons.

My falling-in-love-again buttons, too. Except I’m his polar opposite. I love change, and taking chances. Everything he avoids in life.

So why am I trying to convince him to reach for more than we’ve ever dreamed of—the possibility of forever?

Turnabout is a second-chance romance with interfering family, groveling, and a large helping of artisan stationery geekery.

16

Excerpt

He lifts a dark eyebrow. “I said, I want to work with someone willing to wallow with paper and design. Tease out the one-of-a-kind magic.”

His voice is quiet, soothing. It demands I take a deep breath and get out of my feelings.

“I’ve been reminded of how much of an art it is,” I say. “And that I can get by, but you—you have a gift.”

Rosy splotches bloom on his cheeks. “You know what you’re doing, too.”

“I don’t have the rhythm of it like you do. The innate… mastery, I guess. The relationship.”

Auden tilts his head and looks out the front window.

“What?” I ask. “He’s not coming back.”

“I know, but hearing the words rhythm and mastery and relationship when it comes to using a press… I’m looking for locusts, frogs, horsemen—any sign of the apocalypse.”

“Fuck off,” I mutter.

Rhythm, mastery.

When he repeats the words like that, I’m not thinking of cast iron machines—I’m thinking about sex.

I can’t believe he didn’t call me on how filthy that sounded.

He’s biting his lip, still a little pink in the face.

Okay, maybe he’s thinking it, at least.

“I could show you,” he says.

Meeting his gaze is like swimming in a lake, when you dive down, down on a bright day, and you have the dark depths below, and the streams of light from above, and it blends around you like you’re wearing a crown of green water and sunlight.

Holy fuck. He’s too much sometimes.

“Come here.” He crooks a finger for me to meet him at the Chandler and Price.

Definitely too much.

I join him anyway.

He takes my left hand and places it on the small shelf on the front of the press where we’d normally collect the cards during a run. The wood is smooth. And it would feel exactly like palming a flat piece of wood always does, except his big hand covers mine.

“Artisanry demands that relationship.” His voice is insanely low, but he’s only inches from me, so I don’t miss a syllable.

“I’m not an—”

“You have the artistic talent. You just need a little patience.” He puts his other hand on my right hip and positions me square to the press. He taps his toe against my heel, a silent command to put my foot on the treadle.

“We’re missing some parts.” Paper. Ink. The frame. Everything that actually turns into a product.

“We’re not making anything.” He’s at an angle to me. If he leaned forward three inches, his dick would be pressed into my hip. His left hand is still holding mine to the shelf. The other is a heavy weight just below my waist.

“I don’t understand,” I say.

“Just watch it, Carter.” He sounds amused. “You want to know every quirk. And not to try to learn when you’re rushing through eight jobs at once. When you have time to go easy.”

“Really.”

“Really,” he says. “Grip the wood with your other hand, too.”

Grip the wood? You’re fucking with me.”

“A little.” I can’t see his face from where he is behind me, but I hear his smirk.

A little? A lot. I grab hold of the shelf anyway.

“Just work the treadle,” he says.

I press my toe into the pedal, making the flywheel whir.

“And listen,” he says. “Watch.”

I do that, too.

I’ve been so damn busy since I got here—paper in, paper out, paper in, paper out—I haven’t actually watched anything I’ve done.

The rollers, mesmerizing as they glide over the circular, iron platen.

“What color’s the ink?” Auden’s hand tightens on my hip. His breath tickles the side of my neck.

There is no ink.

“Green,” I say. I can’t get that sunlit lake off my mind.

(I don’t want to. Ever.)

My tie… Why am I wearing something meant to restrict my airflow? I want to loosen it, but Auden told me to keep my hands on the shelf, so I’m keeping my hands on the goddamn shelf.

“Hear anything in the flywheel?” he says.

Just the whir and clicks and whuffs it normally makes. “Should I be?”

“Nothing unusual, but the more you know the sounds of it, the more you know exactly when to feed the paper.” He taps the top of my hand once. Twice. Again. Matching it up to some sensory memory that’s so ingrained in him, he probably dreams in that rhythm.

Anchored by his touch, I’m the one who leans in the three inches. My shoulder, touching his chest. His breath, much more than a tickle. A caress.

“It’s a pulse,” he murmurs, so gruff, the consonants and vowels mix together. His fingers brush the hollow above my shirt collar. My knees wobble.

“A pulse.” I tilt my head to the side, exposing my neck.

“Aye.” Bending his head, his lips land on the same sensitive spot.

My head’s turning faster than the flywheel.

“Auden.”

“See? You know the rhythm.”

Oh god, I don’t know anything right now.

15

Unguarded | Jay Hogan

Vino & Veritas #10

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Universal Link: https://geni.us/AmazonUnguarded

Add to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/2M3qdiU

Shorby: https://shor.by/vino-and-veritas

READ MY REVIEW

Blurb

I fled Boston and my cheating jerk of an ex with three hundred dollars and a lip gloss in my pocket. Waking up the next day in Burlington, Vermont, with a crick in my back and a frozen ass wasn’t exactly in the plan. If there was one. Which there wasn’t. Story of my life.

Three hours later and I’ve been hired as temporary help in the local veterinary and grooming clinic, which is kind of impressive since I know zip about animals and even less about grooming. But one thing I do know—I’m crushing hard on the sexy, absent-minded vet I work for.

My life is a hot mess. The last thing I need is another relationship. Emmett pushes all my buttons, but he isn’t out. He’s overwhelmed with a business to run and a son to look after and the kind of domestic life I never thought I wanted.

I should walk away.

But Emmett believes in me, and I might just be starting to believe in myself. As different as we are, is it possible we’re exactly what the other needs?

13

Excerpt

The final client of the morning was a grumbling, overweight Pekingese cross named Charles, with an attitude to rival Genghis Khan and an owner who refused to come in with her dog because she didn’t want the nippy little demon to associate her with any discomfort.

Under instruction from Ivy, Tai had the growling, muzzled dog wrapped in a towel and pinioned against his stomach, his expression caught somewhere between are-you-fucking-kidding-me and abject terror.

I told him what we were about to do and he stared at me in wide-eyed disbelief. “You did not just say you were going to milk this little guy’s anal glands?”

I swallowed a laugh. “I believe those were my exact words.”

His gaze flicked down to the squirming dog, then back up. “Do I even want to ask why?”

I shrugged and pulled on some gloves. “The anal glands are two little sacs on either side of the rectum. Normally they get expressed every time the dog poops. Helps mark his territory.”

“Oh. My. God.” Tai rolled his eyes dramatically. “I think I dated a guy like that once.”

Ivy snorted while I grappled with an influx of images involving Tai with another guy and that whole territorial marking thing. I snapped the second glove on my wrist like an elastic band, hoping the pain might shock some sense into me.

It didn’t.

Tai got his freak under control and tucked Charles firmly back against his stomach. It was the first time I’d ever been jealous of the mutt.

“I know I’m going to regret asking this,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “But what happens when things don’t get expressed, on the whole anal-gland front? And I can’t believe I just said that.”

“Welcome to my world.” Ivy appeared from the supply room.

I caught Tai’s eye and waggled my eyebrows. He was hella fun to tease. “I’m so glad you asked that question. If they don’t get expressed naturally, not helped by poor diet and excess weight, then the glands can block and get smelly and painful. They can even form an abscess that can burst onto the skin.”

Tai’s mouth dropped open in horror. “Holy crap. And also—another date of mine.”

I gave a strangled laugh and realized I hadn’t had so much fun at work since . . . well yeah, it had been a while.

“Damn, that’s disgusting. The poor thing.” Tai lifted Charles to smooch him safely around the back of his ears. “We need to talk about your diet young man,” he cooed to the dog who, miracle of miracles, appeared to calm. “Fiber is the key, plus plenty of water and attention to timing. Clean, screened, and fit for a queen.” He glanced up with a wicked grin. “Right, Mr. Vet?”

Ivy coughed loudly, while every semi-functioning neuron in my body focused on only one thing that shall not be mentioned.

“I, yeah . . . I guess,” I managed to croak. “Although maybe not the screening thing, not for dogs.”

Tai lifted Charles to eyeball him. “Safety first.”

Ivy joined us at the table. “Okay, you two. Let’s get this done so I can spritz the room. Keep a firm grip,” she told Tai.

His eyes widened. “This is going to smell worse than I thought, isn’t it?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Think fishy.”

Tai got a tight hold on the wriggling dog. “Huh? Not my first guess. Okay, I’m ready. I have to say, it feels a little like an initiation.”

I flashed him an encouraging smile. “You’ll be fine. Now hold that tail up.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew, and sure enough—

He snorted. “Not the first time I’ve been told that.”

I shook my head, gently squeezed, and . . .

“Whoa.” He gave a long blink and jerked his head around and out of the way. “Ewww, Charles. That’s some nasty shit right there.”

I grinned from ear to ear, pretty much as I had from the minute Tai had walked into my clinic. I was so fucked.

12

Out-Now

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