Tag Archives: gay fiction

Book Blast: Caregiver by Rick R. Reed

Caregiver | Rick R. Reed

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Gay Fiction

Re-Release Date: 01.12.19

Buy Links:

Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/Caregiver-Rick-R-Reed-ebook/dp/B07ZMKCQ7R

Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/Caregiver-Rick-R-Reed/dp/1702823164

Audiobook: https://www.amazon.com/Caregiver/dp/B00H40LEUE

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Blurb

Winner of the 2013 EPIC eBook Award for Best Contemporary Romance

It’s 1991, and Dan Calzolaio has just moved to Florida with his lover, Mark, having fled Chicago and Mark’s addictions to begin a new life on the Gulf Coast. Volunteering for the Tampa AIDS Alliance is just one part of that new beginning, and that’s how Dan meets his new buddy, Adam.

Adam Schmidt is not at all what Dan expected. The guy is an original – witty, wry, and sarcastic with a fondness for a smart black dress, Barbra Streisand, and a good Mai Tai. Adam doesn’t let his imminent death get him down, even through a downward spiral that sees him thrown in jail.

Each step of Adam’s journey teaches Dan new lessons about strength and resilience, but it’s Adam’s lover, Sullivan, to whom Dan feels an almost irresistible pull. Dan knows the attraction isn’t right, even after he dumps his cheating, drug-abusing boyfriend.

But then Adam passes away, and it leaves Sullivan and Dan both alone to see if they can turn their love for Adam into something whole and real for each other.

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Excerpt

He started up the walk, not knowing what to expect, but imagining someone very weak, emaciated, whose skin was marred by KS lesions. No matter how bad he looks, Dan, you will be cheerful and friendly. You will not let the effect his appearance has on you internally show externally. Got that?

Dan rang the doorbell.

When the door swung open, Dan’s grin disappeared and his mouth dropped open, yet nothing came out. He cocked his head. His eyebrows furrowed.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” a seductive, Bette Davis voice intoned. “Get in here. I am not about to pay to air condition the great outdoors, especially not when the great outdoors happen to be located on the Gulf Coast.”

Dan still didn’t know what to say as he followed the feminine figure inside the little stucco house.

Mentally scratching his head and desperately wanting to act as though he was in on the joke, Dan stood near the doorway and took in what he supposed to be Adam Schmidt, since it didn’t appear anyone else was home.

Adam wore the classic little black dress, a string of pearls, black leather kitten heels, and sheer black nylons. His nails were painted a shocking red, a shade the gayest side of Dan was absolutely positive would have been called “Jungle Red.” Adam’s wispy blond hair had obviously been blown dry and sprayed into place. His angular features had been enhanced with a good concealer, a little blush, mascara, pale green eye shadow, and slash of red across his thin lips that perfectly matched his nails.

Adam put a hand on one hip and gave Dan the once-over. “Since you appear to be speechless, I’m going to assume you’re Dan something-or-other, something Italian. You’re going to be my new best friend, my buddy, right? But not my fuck buddy—God forbid!” Adam may have had AIDS, but it had no effect on his ability to weight his words with sarcasm.

Dan smiled and forced himself to move into the room. “Sorry. I, um, the cat had my tongue.” He stuck out a hand, feeling like an idiot. “Yes, I’m Dan Calzolaio. And I’m looking forward to getting to know you better, Adam.” Had a single human being ever sounded more nerdish, more square? Dan felt his face going hot, despite the wintry chill from the air conditioning. He regretted once more his nearly naked ensemble. He looked down at the goose bumps rising up on his forearms.

“Isn’t that sweet?” Adam turned toward the living room, which continued the surreal theme that had begun as soon as Adam opened the door. It was done all in shades of pink and vibrant green, with overstuffed rattan furniture that appeared as though it had been swiped from the set of The Golden Girls. “Come on and have a seat, Dan. I made us a batch of Mai Tais. You like Mai Tais, hon?”

“Oh yes. Love ’em.” Dan tried to recall when he had actually had one of the tropical drinks and drew a blank. He hurried to grab a seat on the couch, hugging himself to keep warm.

Adam observed him with an impish grin. “Cold? I’ll be right back.” Dan expected Adam to go into the kitchen to get their cocktails (Mai Tais at noon?), but Adam headed down a hallway. Dan could hear drawers being opened and shut.

Adam returned and flung a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt at Dan. “Put some clothes on, sugar. As fine as all that tan flesh is to look at, it pains me to see you so chilly. Why, I can even see you’ve got your headlights on!” Adam giggled and Dan looked down at his chest, where Adam’s gaze was directed. His nipples poked through the thin cotton fabric of his tank like two pencil erasers. He hurried to put the sweats and T-shirt on over his clothes. “Whose are these?” he wondered.

“My boyfriend’s. You and he are about the same size.”

Adam disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a tray upon which were two tall glasses, each garnished with a Maraschino cherry, pineapple wedge, and a lime peel. Adam paused before Dan. “I know. I know. It’s kind of early for cocktails, but when time is short, you reprioritize. And I think the time is always right for a Mai Tai. Don’t you?”

About The Author

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Real Men. True Love.

Rick R. Reed draws inspiration from the lives of gay men to craft stories that quicken the heartbeat, engage emotions, and keep the pages turning. Although he dabbles in horror, dark suspense, and comedy, his attention always returns to the power of love.

He’s the award-winning and bestselling author of more than fifty works of published fiction and is forever at work on yet another book. Lambda Literary has called him: “A writer that doesn’t disappoint…”

You can find him at www.rickrreed.com or www.rickrreedreality.blogspot.com. Rick lives in Palm Springs, CA with his beloved husband and their fierce Chihuahua/Shiba Inu mix.

Social Media

Facebook Page: www.facebook.com/rickrreedbooks

Twitter: www.twitter.com/rickrreed

Blog: http://rickrreedreality.blogspot.com/

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/rick-r-reed

Email: rickrreedbooks@gmail.com

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Review Tour: Confessions of a Gay Curmudgeon by Andy V. Ambrose

Confessions of a Gay Curmudgeon | Andy V. Ambrose

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Publisher: Nine Star Press

Cover Artist: Natasha Snow

Release Date: September 2, 2019

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 62,100 words/292 pages

It is a standalone story.

Buy Links

Nine Star Press

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Add on Goodreads

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Blurb

Confessions of a Gay Curmudgeon recounts the adventures of Viktor, a fifty-year-old gay man in New York City trying to get back into the land of the living after the breakup of a twelve-year relationship.

The novel examines the lives of a group of middle-aged gay men, exploring new facets of their sexuality while dealing with all the changes middle age brings.

Warning: References to nonconsensual situations, no HEA or HFN

Excerpt

SATURDAY AFTERNOON—FLOUNDERING

My erections aren’t what they used to be.

Well, Dr. S told me to write about the first thing that comes into my mind, so it’s what I’m doing. “Don’t think. Just write,” he said. “Stop censoring yourself, Viktor. This will help you in your therapy too, Viktor.”

Okay, okay. If that’s what the shrink ordered, let’s see if this works. We’re supposed to listen to our shrinks, right? That’s their job, right? They know how to get us out of whatever fucking funk we’re in, right?

So here we go. I’m writing about the first thing that comes to my mind and it’s my erections. Here it is, a lovely Saturday afternoon, sun shining, snow melting, spring a’coming, a perfect time to enjoy life. And what am I doing? Sulking in my apartment obsessing about my cock.

Hell of a problem to have on a day like today, isn’t it? Shit, be honest, Viktor. You’re supposed to be honest with this writing thing, aren’t you? That was Dr. S’s other directive, wasn’t it? Honesty. He was full of directives last session, wasn’t he? Oh well, maybe I need some directives.

So where was I? Oh yes. Gorgeous day, shitty mood, focusing on my cock when I should be enjoying life.

Oh, come on. It’s not just about my cock. I know that. After all, I did my share of screwing around when I was younger. Not that I was the biggest stud around in my heyday, but during those few glorious weeks my sex life got going, I learned how to have a good time. Yes, I did! But then I met Gio and fell in love. And he fell in love with me. And we had twelve years of bliss—more or less—until he left me last year.

About the Author

Andy V Ambrose grew up in the Boston area and moved to New York City after college. He worked in book publishing for many years, wearing many hats: Editorial, Copyediting, Proofreading, and Production.

This is his first novel featuring Viktor, a fifty-year-old gay man trying to get back into the world of the living after the end of a twelve-year relationship. To relax, Andy loves to ride his bike, read, watch foreign and independent movies, and travel.

He’s only made it to three continents so far but hopes to visit the rest soon. He lives in New York City.

Social Media

Facebook | Twitter: @AndyVAmbrose1 | Instagram

Follow the tour and check out the other blog posts and reviews here

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

 

Review Tour: Shinigami by Xia Xia Lake

Shinigami | Xia Xia Lake

Takamagahara Monogatari #2

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Release Date: October 1, 2019

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 71,440 words /220 pages

Buy Links:

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Add on Goodreads

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Blurb

Nothing is what it seems.

A coming of age love story between the heir of the richest family in the Land of Yamato and an orphan. The human world meets the yōkai world in a power struggle for the fate of Fujiwara no Hirotsugu.

While he battles to find his own path in life, Hirotsugu finds solace in a boy who will first become his secret friend, then his salvation, then, as they become adults together, the love of his life.

The story is set during the Nara period of ancient Japan and will expand over a period of 25 years (715-740).

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Excerpt

Chapter 1: Kagerō

Kagerō: The quivering appearance of the mist rising from the hot surface of the ground”

On the day Fujiwara no Hirotsugu was born, Mount Kasuga was covered in golden shimmering kagerō rising from the ground to cloak the mountain in mist. The uguisu sang from dusk until dawn, and a crane appeared in the palace garden and didn’t leave for five days.

It was late May, close to the final days of planting the rice. These were the days when finishing the paddy field work was paramount, lest next year’s crops be affected. Yet in celebration of Hirotsugu’s birth, his father, Umakai, sent an order to his bailiff to decree half a day off for all workers. Servants from the palace went down the mountain to offer rice, fish, and sake to the poor in Heijo-kyo.

Gifts poured through the gates for weeks, coming not only from the greatest families living in the land of Yamato, but also from as far away as Silla and Tang. Even the old Empress Genmei, who had no love for the Fujiwara clan, sent Hirotsugu a gift fit for royalty: a sword replica modeled after Kusanagi the Grass Slasher, the sacred imperial heirloom of the Yamato Emperors. Since it was forbidden for anyone except the reigning monarch and the High Priest of the Ise Grand Shrine to lay eyes on the real Kusanagi, no one could actually tell how good the replica was. But neither could they deny that the sword Hirotsugu received was of exceptional workmanship and extraordinary value.

The greatest gift of all came from Hirotsugu’s grandfather, Fujiwara no Fuhito. The leader of the Fujiwara clan made a secret pact with Crown Prince Obito that on the day Hirotsugu turned twenty, he would marry Princess Abe, Prince Obito’s firstborn child.

Upon Hirotsugu’s birth, the Fujiwara clan made great plans for his future, and I watched from my throne of skulls behind the kagerō veil and laughed and laughed and laughed.

SPRING

Chapter 2: Uguisu

Uguisu: The Japanese nightingale

In spring, nature was at its most beautiful at dawn, when Amaterasu’s robe touched the hills and dyed them red, and the blooming cherry trees turned a vibrant pink. Hanging from the eaves of every Fujiwara castle were tendrils of purple wisteria, their blooms awakening to welcome the Sun Goddess. The white clouds above resembled boughs of cherry flowers.

When night approached, the birdsong gently shifted from cheerful to forlorn. The uguisu went to sleep in its pot-shaped nest, and the brown-feathered night thrush—recently returned from wintering in Tenjiku—took its place and claimed the night. Now and then, a deer would call and a fawn would answer back.

The day Hirotsugu was born, a young god wandered up and down the high-forested slopes of Mount Kasuga, tired from the day he’d spent blessing the fields and the future harvest. He would have gone home to Mount Kurama in Kibune, but something was amiss with the yōkai living on Kasuga and he’d come to investigate.

At twilight, he found a group of kodama and an old kappa gathered underneath the budding leaves of a giant plum tree, transfixed by its beautiful red blossoms. When he entered the clearing, they were trying to touch the blossoms, but as soon as a hand came close, the tree would raise its branches out of reach.

“Don’t touch it,” the god commanded. His voice was calm, but it came like the snap of a whip and took them out of their reverie. “It’s a ghost tree. It’s not really here.”

The kodama stumbled backward, frightened.

“When did it appear?” the young god asked.

“This morning, Inari-sama,” the kappa answered. “When the baby was born.”

“Baby?” Inari frowned. “Come closer, child, don’t be afraid. Which baby do you speak of?”

Kogitsune

Takamagahara Monogatari #1

It’s a 40-page short story and is FREE on Smashwords.

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About the Author

Xia Xia Lake is an Otaku & Slytherin that used to cosplay at every comic con she attended until a kid asked if he could take a picture with the “old lady.”

She decided a couple of years ago that she wanted to spend her free time writing stories and partying with vampires.

She lives in Transylvania with her fiancé and is a big fan of Romanian cuisine.

Social Media

Blog/Website | Twitter | Instagram

Pinterest | Goodreads

Follow the tour and check out the other blog posts and reviews here

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

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Release Blitz: Not Another Statistic by J.M. Dabney

Not Another Statistic | J.M. Dabney

Yuri Sorenson Mysteries

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Genre: MM, Gay Fiction, Romance, Mystery, Suspense

Release Date: 24.09.19

Cover Image – FuriousFotog (Golden Czermak)

Cover Model – Kevin R. Davis

Cover Art – J.M. Dabney

Universal Link: https://books2read.com/u/bw2vV0

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Blurb

Former Federal Agent Yuri Sorenson had left the bureau behind to become a private investigator. His ex-partner came to him asking for a favor, not knowing who else to trust. Yuri had always had a way of keeping his emotional distance from the people he protected, yet that changed the day Clarkson hesitantly limped into his life.

What happens when love is confused with pain? That’s the exact question Josh Clarkson had asked himself for years. He’d grown up in an overburdened foster care system, and from what he knew of love, he couldn’t expect anything but to be something tolerated. Was he meant to be more than a plaything or a piece of scenery? He could hope.

Two men who know nothing but being broken find that patience and acceptance are harder than losing hope.

Is the leap of faith worth the reward of letting someone else in? Maybe they’ll find the strength to find out before the danger of Josh’s past tries to tear them apart.

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Excerpt

The or, what the hell had I been thinking? I cursed myself as I unbuttoned my baby blue dress shirt that conformed to my slender upper body. As I stripped it off I studied myself in the bathroom mirror and draped the fine linen over the edge of the sink counter. I traced the fading scars that covered my chest and stomach. A few were still sensitive as I stroked the raised edges of tissue.

“They’re healing nicely.”

I jerked my eyes to the right in the mirror to find him watching me. An odd expression in his green eyes. I wondered what he thought of me. His attitude toward me had shifted but I still feared he saw me as he had the night I was led into his office. In his opinion was I still the pain addict whore that everyone made me out to be? At the club earlier I’d almost felt—normal. Like a well-adjusted man curled up against my date.

I mentally shook off my thoughts and my brain started to focus on other things. His unbuttoned shirt exposed the thick hair on his chest and stomach, his tie hanging loose. To keep from getting caught I returned to my perusal. My stomach was no longer concave and my ribs didn’t show through my pale skin. My cheeks face was filling out and I didn’t look like a skeleton. I knew I had more weight to gain in order to get up to fighting weight as he called it.

“Yeah.”

“What’s wrong, baby boy?” His grumbly voice was low and soft, yet seemed to fill the room effortlessly.

“Just remembering.”

“Remembering what?” He asked as he entered the bathroom and stood behind me. There were several inches between us but I could still feel his body heat—his overwhelming presence—and my weakness called to me to lean back into his strength.

Something inside me was sick and rotten, I relied on him to keep me safe. He did little things that weren’t necessary. Like the espresso or candy, letting me pick a show on TV. They were stupid things but men didn’t do nice things for me just out of the kindness of their hearts. It always came with a price.

“Talk it out.”

Resistance was futile when his hands rested on my hips and he flexed his arms, pulling me back to his larger frame. The slightly coarse chest hair tickled my skin and my gaze flew to his. Nothing in his expression gave away his thoughts. He was as stoic as I remembered. That emotionless mask made me warier. While I didn’t think he’d physically hurt me, emotionally and mentally he could destroy me.

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About The Author

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J.M. Dabney is a multi-genre author who writes Body Positive/Diverse Romance and Fiction. They live with a constant diverse cast of characters in their head. No matter their size, shape, race, etc. J.M. lives for one purpose alone, and that’s to make sure they do them justice and give them the happily ever after they deserve.

J.M. is dysfunction at its finest and they make sure their characters are a beautiful kaleidoscope of crazy. There is nothing more they want from telling their stories than to show that no matter the package the characters come in or the damage their pasts have done, that love is love. That normal is never normal and sometimes the so-called broken can still be amazing.

The author is Gender Nonconforming and uses the preferred pronouns They/Them.

Social Media

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/J.M.DabneyAuthor/

Twitter – https://twitter.com/jmdabney_author

Instagram – https://www.instagram.com/authorjmdabney/?hl=en

Reader Group – https://www.facebook.com/groups/585182991553194

Amazon Author Page – https://www.amazon.com/J.M.-Dabney/e/B006QZIFLE

Bookbub – https://www.bookbub.com/authors/j-m-dabney

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Blog Tour: Baja Clavius by Maderia Desouza

Baja Clavius | Madeira Desouza

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Buy Links:

Amazon eBook | Amazon Paperback

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Blurb

This controversial science fiction adventure depicts gay male time travel agents with very bad behaviors. They are violent and immoral men.

A few hundred years from now, these time travel agents work within a top-secret agency located beneath the crater Clavius on the moon.

Their time-travel missions take them to Earth in the past where they ruthlessly manipulate man who are targeted for their roles in the outcomes of historical events such as the Oklahoma City bombing in 1995.

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Excerpt

Yesterday I was lost and I died. Today I am alive again. I accept the truth about foregone tomorrows and my resurrections from the dead.

I do not claim to be a believer in a deity or a religion. Yet, I have personally experienced being repeatedly brought back to life after death. Something far more powerful than us human beings resurrected me. And now, everything I have learned about living, dying, and then coming back for more is presented here.

I have been coerced into creating this journal of my experiences. I will suffer if I am less than completely truthful. I will be held prisoner until I have completed this in full.

I work for a top-secret international agency that is so deeply concealed nobody could possibly find it. Baja Clavius is the name of the international base of operations where I live. It is from that base that I travel in time to work assignments on Earth.

Desperate efforts by others to censor this work all have ended in failure. Just to confuse you, others have circulated conflicting versions of this. But I defeated all my enemies who wanted to prevent you for seeing this.

I begin by sharing my memories of being back in my home state of Arizona—on foot trudging through the desert under dark, threatening thunderclouds that do not diminish the hottest day I have ever felt in my entire life. Through an unexpected break in the storm clouds, I see bright white sunlight and the most magnificent color of blue sky. Up there above me a haunting full moon commands my attention.

Sticking out of the landscape under the ominous skies is a mechanical structure apparently made mostly of wood. As I walk closer to the device, it looks to me as though it was created specifically to slow down the process of hanging a man by the neck so that he will experience extended agony before his death.

Hung from a thick brown rope wrapped around a wheel wench is a muscular, shirtless, and barefoot man with his arms unbound struggling desperately to stay conscious as his neck is crushed in the noose. I see his high cheekbones and long dark brown hair that is tied behind his neck into a queue. I watch his bare feet kick the sky.

I notice a pair of unattended video cameras on tripods positioned nearby on the desert floor pointing toward the hanging machine. Why would anyone go to the trouble of videotaping this man’s death by ritual hanging?

I know that I have met him previously. But this man whose name I cannot remember somehow seems to hold a distinct place at the very center of faulty recollections in my brain.

Off in the distance fifty meters or so to the west of my location, I can see four men wearing cowboy attire running away. I must have scared them away when I approached. But they left that helpless man to die on their hanging machine.

He is someone who seems obviously capable of having put up very considerable resistance against this merciless fate. His powerful body attracts my full attention. He looks like he is about thirty years old—the same age as me. His legs wildly swing in all possible directions as I reach the hanging machine. He desperately tries to reach his hands up to his neck as if it somehow were possible to free himself from the noose. But that is impossible! He groans when he sees me as if to try and tell me something.

His faded blue jeans are too tight for him. I stare at his bulging crotch as he dances in the air at the end of a rope. I marvel at his incredible masculinity contrasted with utter vulnerability. This man looks strong and tough. He must certainly be capable of protecting himself against anyone with success. But, not now.

He cannot save himself. He is simultaneously very manly and totally defenseless. This precise opposing combination of traits is, I’m sure, why men watch executions of other men.

His deep, dark eyes remain open, defiantly staring outward into the eerie sky. He resumes his kicking, but much more forcefully now.

His tight blue jeans emphasize his growing bulge. He has attained a full erection ahead of what will be his final ejaculation into his jeans. There is intense humiliation on his face. His body jerks wildly. As he shoots his last load in his pants, his neck cannot withstand the crushing force of the noose. I am stunned because I did not expect to see his body spasms, kicking, and curling of his toes.

Very suddenly, he just stops struggling. His body no longer can fight back against the effects of gravity and the noose that has applied fatal pressure to his vulnerable neck. I watch him desperately try to open his mouth to breathe, but he has no life remaining in him. I am overwhelmed with intense anger and shock as I slump to the ground. I cry without any shame for this stranger. I feel stunned by my sexual attraction to him. It is as if I have lost someone who has been very significant to me and to my life.

Even though I feel instinctively that I have suffered memory loss, I can remember where I work. I especially remember being inside some kind of cylindrical blue machine.

The inside of the circular blue glass machine was filled with a milky white liquid. It was translucent and unpleasant. It smelled like chemicals. I was naked. I felt like I was drowning. But I knew I was not going to drown. Something has taught me that I cannot die. I know with absolute certainty that I do not know death. I live on and on. But, I have so many questions that I cannot answer. Why am I repeatedly resurrected? Will I live forever?

Giveaway

Madeira is giving away a $20 Amazon gift certificate with this tour. Enter via Rafflecopter:

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About the Author

AUTHOR PIC - Madeira Desouza - Baja Clavius

Madeira Desouza is a gay male author. He focuses upon telling stories about mature, masculine men who are sexually attracted to other mature, masculine men. He steers clear of several deeply embedded traits of American gay culture that can be found in film and in print–eccentric or flamboyant behaviors, alkyl nitrites, dance music, trendy clothing, trendy hair, gay men who think age 30 is old, and so forth.

Desouza’s creative works belong within the bara genre. This little word is shortened from barazuko. Translated from Japanese, it means rose-tribe, which is a code phrase for gay men. Originated in Japan decades ago as gay men created works for other gay men, this genre has not yet been widely embraced internationally. Perhaps this is because bara bara depicts same-sex feelings and sexual attraction to masculine, muscular men who sometimes behave in aggressive, violent, or exploitative ways towards one another.

As both a storyteller and digital artist Desouza explores conflicting and opposing compulsions that all men have. On one side there are impulses men have towards sustaining life, engaging in love, and being attracted to others. In the opposing direction are impulses men have towards being aggressive, engaging in violence, and, causing pain and death. For centuries, artists and storytellers around the world have found inspiration in these two opposing human compulsions that no man is able to resist or impede merely by his conscious will alone.

Social Media

Author Website: https://bajaclavius.com/

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/madeira.desouza

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/desouzaofvegas/

Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/machodesouza

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/masculine_men_images/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Madeira-Desouza/e/B008HL3B3C/

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Release Blitz: Laws of Attraction by JP Sayle

Laws of Attraction | J.P. Sayle

The Manx Cat Guardians #6

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Gay Fiction Romance

Release Date: 28.03.19

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Blurb

Nick Riley, on the surface, has it all. He’s grown up in a loving family, owns his own home, and has a job he loves. Yet under that façade of a happy life, Nick hides a multitude of secrets and lies. Those same secrets and lies have forced him to build walls to protect himself and kept others away.

Nick’s life is unraveling, and his walls are tumbling when his brother invites him for a visit to the Isle of Man. Nick is left floundering, unsure which way to turn and who to trust when his past decides to come knocking. Things go from bad to worse when Nick finds the fates haven’t finished with him, and his brother’s best friend, Brody Quilliam, comes to stay.

Brody Quilliam needs a break from his life and the weight of responsibility of his job. So when his best friend, Aaden Riley, moves to the Isle of Man and asks him to visit, Brody decides to take him up on the offer. Only things don’t go as planned when he finds Aaden’s younger brother, Nick, visiting at the same time.

Their love-hate relationship is only the beginning of Brody’s concerns. Events he can’t explain make him think he’s stuck in the twilight zone.

Witches, spells, and misconceptions are only the tip of the iceberg as Brody struggles to come to terms with the unbelievable.

Warning: Some of the content of this book is sexually graphic, with the use of explicit language and adult situations involving two males. It is only intended for mature adults.

This is the sixth book in the series and should be read in order to give the reader the back story of the other characters. The main characters in this book do get a HEA, but there is a storyline threading through the main story that is a cliffhanger and relates to a future series.

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Excerpt

He gave a disparaging laugh, knowing exactly why it surprised him. He had neither measured how deep the water was or how fast the currents were before jumping in with both feet. Now he was in over his head, being dragged by the currents he’d found, unable to find his feet as he was hauled along by his feelings.

Had it given him pause? Yes, it fucking had. Especially when he knew he’d failed miserably to convince himself it had everything to do with helping Aaden, Martin, and Greg and nothing to do with Nick. Nick, who was going to have to stay longer because of an injury.

Brody felt the guilt slide greasily around his gut, thinking about Nick and his broken foot. A foot that was delaying the progress of the kitchen, and he was solely to blame. If he hadn’t been trying to get a reaction out of Nick, then he wouldn’t, Brody was sure, have lost his grip on the door and dropped it onto his foot.

His lips quivered slightly at finally getting under Nick’s skin and the mask Nick slipped into place since Sunday night after their little incident in the car.

Kissing, it was kissing, and you can stop fooling yourself.

Brody scrunched up his nose at the annoying voice. Fuck. He’d lost control and given in to his urges. Urges that had been building for days and to his dismay, resulted in a blistering kiss that could have peeled the skin right off his body, it was so hot.

Bloodystinkinghell!

Brody clenched his sweaty hands at his sides, and blindly looking out the window, he stewed. He tried not to think about the imprint of Nick’s soft, lush mouth on his, the sweet taste of him, which had blown his mind.

Jayne-main-logo2

Let me introduce myself, my name is Jayne, I’m a lady of a certain age (50, bites fingernails). I am an identical twin, the younger one of course by 7 minutes. I am married to a wonderfully complicated man, or as he puts it, off his rocker Rob. We celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary recently. I have one daughter and two grandbabies one boy and one girl.

I was born in the Isle of Man; this makes me Manx (not British or English). I moved to the UK for several years, and as a child, I lived in Italy for a while. But, the island calls to me so I returned home in 1998. I love the sea and now it’s only a stone’s throw from my home.

I have worked in the caring profession for 34 years and have been a hospital nurse manager, out of hours, for the past couple of years. I made the decision to work part time nights in 2016 so that I could pursue my lifelong dream of becoming a writer.

I have always believed that I could and would write a book, but life just seemed to get in the way. Until someone asked me the question, “What do I want?” The answer was easy, the hard part was making it happen. Well, it did and it has and it was life-changing for me.

So over two years later, my career path has changed and so has my life. I found my happiness again in something that just brightens my day. Now I won’t say it’s been a breeze because those who write know it’s not a total blast all the time, but it has been fun and exciting.

I am asked a lot why did I choose to write a gay romance. I went to a creative writing group (couldn’t recommend this enough for new writers); anyway, the course leader gave me these words of advice.

“Put your inner critic aside, put pen to paper and just write, don’t worry about what comes out, just write.”

I was a bit, really that works, but I decided to give it a go with it. Ignored all the research I did, which said to write about what you know because that just wasn’t working for me for many reasons. The answer it seemed was to try something different and I found it flowed out and 6 weeks later I had the bones of my first book (113,000 words). Writing something so different to what I was doing in my life, freed me.

My island is steeped in folklore and I have used some of this in my writing, particularly Where it all Began: Manx Cat Guardians Origins. The book, I have to say I love the most, if I had to choose right now, but that might change

Writing has unleashed a beast in my mind and now I can’t switch it off. I follow a lot of authors and I listen to them talking about their characters talking to them. I so get this now, I find myself muttering and talking at odd times. I wake up at 3 am in the morning, with bits of story wanting a voice.

I have six books written currently with two more in the pipeline and a couple of ideas for future series, so you never know what will come next. I have lots of places you can stalker me if you’re interested in finding out more.

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Release Blitz: The Hunt by J.M. Dabney & Davidson King

The Hunt | J.M. Dabney & Davidson King

The Hunt RDB Banner

Gay Fiction, Mystery, Suspense, Romance

Release Date: 15.09.18

Cover Design: Morningstar Ashley @ Designs by Morningstar

Goodreads: https://bit.ly/2p7qwug

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BLURB

Disgraced detective turned private investigator, Ray Clancy, left the force with a case unsolved. Finding the killer was no longer his problem, but it still haunted him. How long would he survive the frustration of not knowing before he gave into the compulsion of his nature to solve the crime?

Server, Andrew Shay, existed where he didn’t feel he belonged, living behind the guise of a costume. Yet it paid the bills, and he refused to complain about the little things in life.

One night he returned home from work to find his roommate dead and the killer still there. Afraid and alone, his life spiraled and he didn’t know what to do. Could a detective at his core and a scared young man join forces to bring down the killer in their midst?

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EXCERPT

“What do you look like?” Ray asked, and it was the type of question I hated. How does someone describe themselves?

“Uhh, tall I guess, lanky, dark hair… nothing special. Just look for the guy pissing himself, that’ll be me.”

His chuckle eased the tight coil in the pit of my stomach. “Will do.”

He hung up without a goodbye, and I hurried to the bathroom for a shower. Like every shower in existence, I crouched under the spray to wash off. A half-hour later, cleaned, brushed, and dressed, I hopped on the bus toward Rudy’s.

Where I would normally pop earbuds in and stare out the window, I found myself too paranoid to daydream. It felt like everyone was looking at me. Was the killer on this bus? Are we passing them on the street? Can he see me through the glass?

I saw Ray had texted me his cell number, and I hoped I wouldn’t need it because I was drowning in a pool of my own blood. God, I was dramatic.

I took a second to drop a message with Elise that I was meeting someone who may be able to help and that I’d message her when I was on my way back. She asked if I’d grabbed the spare key, and I was glad I had, because she said she was closing at the restaurant.

The bus stopped and I waited until I was the last person to exit. There was something about not wanting to be stabbed in the back.

Rudy’s was directly across from the bus stop. I took a deep breath and raced across the street. Opening the door, I searched out the place. It took me a second to figure out who Raymond Clancy was.

His eyes were staring into a coffee mug, and while I couldn’t see the color, I just knew they were dark. His hair was mostly gray, but under the fluorescent lights golden strands peeked through. He was a worn-out man, but there was no way I wouldn’t jump him if he offered.

When he looked up, those brown pools held a lot of emotion. He knew I was who he was waiting for, and I knew he was a man who had seen more shit than what I was running from.

JM Dabney Logo

J.M. Dabney is a multi-genre author who writes mainly LGBT romance and fiction. She lives with a constant diverse cast of characters in her head. No matter their size, shape, race, etc. she lives for one purpose alone, and that’s to make sure she does them justice and give them the happily ever after they deserve.

J.M. is dysfunction at its finest and she makes sure her characters are a beautiful kaleidoscope of crazy. There is nothing more she wants from telling her stories than to show that no matter the package the characters come in or the damage their pasts have done, that love is love. That normal is never normal and sometimes the so-called broken can still be amazing.

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Davidson King, always had a hope that someday her daydreams would become real-life stories. As a child, you would often find her in her own world, thinking up the most insane situations. It may have taken her a while, but she made her dream come true with her first published work, Snow Falling.

When she’s not writing you can find her blogging away on Diverse Reader, her review and promotional site. She managed to wrangle herself a husband who matched her crazy and they hatched three wonderful children.

If you were to ask her what gave her the courage to finally publish, she’d tell you it was her amazing family and friends. Support is vital in all things and when you’re afraid of your dreams, it will be your cheering section that will lift you up.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17286464.Davidson_King

Twitter: @DavidsonKing11 https://twitter.com/DavidsonKing11

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2MCMD5r

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Facebook Group: King’s Court: https://www.facebook.com/groups/DavidsonKingsCourt/


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