Tag Archives: friends

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

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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

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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.

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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

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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

Blog Tour: Finn’s Fantasy by K.C. Wells

Finn’s Fantasy | K.C. Wells

Maine Men Series #1

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Release Date: April 10th, 2021

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Blurb

It’s been twenty years since Joel was with a man, and he doesn’t want to screw this up.
Especially with Finn.

A secret desire
By day, Finn builds houses on the coastline of Maine. Afterhours, Finn dreams of the hot older guy who walks his chocolate lab on Goose Rocks Beach. The man of his dreams ticks all his boxes. Salt and pepper hair. Strong jawline. Blue eyes.
His dream man is perfect fantasy material. As for actually speaking to him?
As if. Their paths won’t ever cross, and the guy is probably straight.

A new chapter
Recently divorced Joel is finally living as a gay man, but he’s not sure he’s ready to jump into a relationship. That doesn’t stop him from noticing his new contractor’s muscular build, hewn from hard, physical work, or his storm-colored eyes. Or the way he wears his tool belt slung low on his hips. The icing on the cake? There’s more to Finn than good looks. Maybe he’s the perfect guy to share long walks on the beach and warm nights in front of a fire.
But it’s been twenty years since Joel was with a man. While he’s not forgotten how to flirt, he’s nervous about making a move.
Especially with Finn.

Teaser 5

Excerpt

Joel closed the front door behind him before unfastening Bramble’s leash. “You had to go running off, didn’t you? You had to go talk to your doggy pals.” Bramble gazed at him with those liquid brown eyes, his tail thumping on the floor, and Joel realized he was fighting a losing battle. He could never stay mad at this dog for long. He rubbed Bramble’s ears. “Just don’t do it again, okay?”

Bramble’s soft woof might have been Okay, but Joel would lay even money it was more a case of hey, why are you complaining? You got to meet a hot guy, didn’t you?

There was no denying it—Finn was hot, from the sweep of his hair off his brow, to those gunmetal eyes, the color of the ocean during a storm, to that scruffy beard and barely-there mustache. And then there was his build: the heavy coat might have hidden his frame, but it was obvious Finn was not a slight man, capable of being blown away by a stiff breeze.

It was no surprise to Joel that the word stiff came to mind. And now that he knew where Finn lived, Joel would keep an eye out for him when he took Bramble for a walk.

Down boy. You don’t know anything about him—except that he’s hot.

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About the Author

KC wells logo

K.C. Wells lives on an island off the south coast of the UK, surrounded by natural beauty. She writes about men who love men, and can’t even contemplate a life that doesn’t include writing.

The rainbow rose tattoo on her back with the words ‘Love is Love’ and ‘Love Wins’ is her way of hoisting a flag. She plans to be writing about men in love – be it sweet or slow, hot or kinky – for a long while to come.

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Email: k.c.wells@btinternet.com

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Giveaway

To celebrate the release of Finn’s Fantasy, K.C. is giving away some awesome prizes:

  • $30 Amazon Voucher
  • US or UK Audible Code of Finn’s Fantasy by K.C. Wells
  • A chance to win 1 of 5 ebooks from K.C. Wells backlist

Enter the Rafflecopter giveaway for your chance to win!

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