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Blog Tour: Dream Time for Moon Men by Madeira Desouza

Madeira Desouza | Dream Time for Moon Men

Baja Clavius #2

BANNER 1 - Dream Time for Moon Men

Release Date: July 31 2021

Word Count: 40k

Available on Kindle Vella

Buy Link

COVER - Dream Time for Moon Men

Blurb

This serialized story continues the science fiction time travel adventures from “Baja Clavius: Moon Men Deep Inside” written and illustrated by Madeira Desouza.

What’s it about? In the 23rd century a gritty, quasi-militaristic time travel agency located beneath the crater Clavius on the moon sends gay male agents on missions to the past on Earth.

The often immoral actions of the time travel agents are unrestricted by the agency which allows the agents free reign to alter timelines to prevent an impending self-destruction of human civilization coming in just a few years.

MEME 1 - Dream Time for Moon Men

Excerpt

Having never traveled farther west than Wichita, an unexpected work opportunity to jet off to Las Vegas jolts into overdrive the imagination of a young man from Kansas. He is deep in sleep, carefully buckled in while reclining in his comfortable window seat in row number one within the crowded first-class section. The smooth, soothing rush of the cool, pressurized air inside the jet masks his awareness of his forward speed and his current altitude at roughly seven miles up in the sky.

As his jet touches down on the runway, he wonders in anticipation what may be awaiting him in the desert playground. The first few seconds as he walks from the aircraft that brought him to the Las Vegas airport, he is immersed in a literal sensory overload designed to force all arriving visitors to forget where they just came from. First, there is the unforgettable ringing of airport terminal slot machine chimes announcing unexpected winners who will start their stay in Vegas with a few extra hundred bucks in their pocket. Then, large overhead video screens in the baggage claim section shine down brilliantly colorful images that seem almost dreamlike.

However, what catches his attention is a video pitching a side-trip from Las Vegas to Amargosa Valley. He only recently learned of a ranch situated in that western edge of Nevada about a hundred miles from Las Vegas where his work assignment awaits. The young man spins around quickly as he stands next to baggage claim carousel number 22 because he cannot shake the eerie sensation of someone standing too close behind him. His surprised gaze comes into instant, direct alignment with the squinting blue eyes of guy about his same age. He immediately notices the blue-eyed guy has a handsome, chiseled face and he is dressed all in black in an apparent paramilitary-style uniform complete with thick black boots.

“Didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Josh Lorne. From the ranch at Amargosa Valley,” says the guy with blue eyes. “Supposed to pick up a writer flying in from Kansas.”

The young man in blue jeans, cowboy boots and a tight, bright orange t-shirt replies, “Great. I was told someone would meet me when I got here. I’m Lex—Alexander Sarkis, from Wichita.” Lex Sarkis watches the good-looking man clad all in black steps quickly away from the baggage claim area.

It is Thursday, the 11th day of October 2012, which will be remembered for rare, severe thunderstorms lingering over the entire Las Vegas Valley. Declan Andreas, a rugged-looking young man of Mexican and Greek ancestry also is arriving at the airport not far behind Lex Sarkis.

Someone who is known simply by his nickname of “the rancher” approaches Dec Andreas at the baggage claim area. He stands very tall in his large brown work boots. His head is graced with a large white cowboy hat that allows just enough of his curly light brown hair to fall downward toward, but not quite reaching, his thick, muscular neck. Dec Andreas concludes that the rancher’s impressive upper body especially deserves to be uncovered and admired.

Dec Andreas is dressed as if he wants to pass as a tourist. But Dec Andreas is not here in Las Vegas to visit casinos or to spend money gambling. He is not here for winning or losing anything. He retrieves a small rolling suitcase inside the vast luggage claim area. Nobody will care that Dec Andreas is attired like a tourist. This is the arrival point at the Las Vegas airport where everyone starts off on equal footing looking like everyone else. Looks don’t matter at the start. But then, the winning and the losing in Vegas changes all perceptions.

The rancher’s new, white pickup truck heads north and east away from Las Vegas. The severe weather remains over the valley but in the opposite direction from where Route 95 is taking the rancher and his guest, Dec Andreas. Soon the rancher nudges Andreas so he will notice the battered and worn sign by the right side of the two-lane highway that reads, Amargosa Valley, Nevada.

Lex Sarkis is already at the ranch and has discovered he is in serious jeopardy. He is reclining on his back upon a large metal and plexiglass chair upon a grey metallic floor. He is bound to the chair at his wrists, elbows, and ankles by shiny black straps of an oddly translucent polymer. He stares at a tall, horizontal screen that occupies most the area directly in front of him in the darkened room where he is confined to the large reclining chair. On the screen he sees a man who looks authoritative. Lex Sarkis can only observe the man on the screen from his shoulders to the top of his head, but the man’s familiar all-black paramilitary garment demands full attention.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Sarkis,” the man on the screen says while showing no emotion whatsoever.

“Where am I? Why have you restrained me?”

“Excellent opening questions,” the man responds with a slight smile. “You are being held in protective custody at the ranch in Amargosa Valley. I sent someone to meet you at the airport and give you a ride here. Something went wrong.”

“Went wrong? Why am I being held against my will?” Lex Sarkis asks with faked confidence as he struggles to free himself from the chair.

“Let me introduce myself. I am Edward Primero. I run the organization that owns the ranch. You are my guest, Mr. Sarkis.”

Lex Sarkis continues his unsuccessful attempts to wriggle free from the chair that tightly holds him. His torso muscles stand out vividly through his tight, bright orange t-shirt. “You sure have a strange way of treating your guests.” He stops talking and struggling to focus his attention on a thin metallic device connected to a slender, coiled white tube slide up in the air from the right side of the chair. A long, silver needle pokes out from the thin metallic device. When the long, silver needle stops mere millimeters away from plunging into his crotch through his blue jeans.

MEME 4 - Dream Time for Moon Men

About The Author

desouza_author_photo_2020

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 was 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 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

Website: https://bajaclavius.com/

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

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/machodesouza

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/desouzaofvegas/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4667238.Madeira_Desouza

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

Giveaway

Madeira is giving away an Amazon gift card with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Cover Reveal: The Art of Living by Abrianna Denae

The Art of Living | Abrianna Denae

COVER REVEAL BANNER

Cover Artist: Pretty in Ink Creations

Release Date: June 10th, 2021

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 35,000 words

Pre-Order: Universal Link

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COVER

Blurb

Letting go is the hardest thing a person can do…

Robert Harper has spent the past seventeen years living for his son. He doesn’t know who he is if he’s not being a caregiver and protector all rolled into one.

Niall Ross is finally ready to make a life of his own. After years spent making sure his younger brother had everything he needed, it’s time for Niall to discover who he is.

All it takes is one glance across a crowded meeting room for the men to feel a connection, but Robert is terrified his life is too complicated for the other man. Luckily, Niall has patience in abundance. With a little help from Robert’s meddling family, the two begin a tentative relationship.

Just as they’re finding their footing, all of Robert’s worst fears come to life and he falters under the pressure. Niall takes the challenge to show Robert that he’s a safe place to lean on, but when his own life begins to unravel, he places his heart in Robert’s hands.

When two independent men are forced to trust each other will the love win out, or will vulnerability and fear cause them to lose the best thing they didn’t even know they had?

It is a standalone book, though the reader may be interested in The Gift of Believing, a companion book featuring the MC’s son: mybook.to/GoB

COVER REVEAL 2

Excerpt

Ice cream for dinner is the best grown-up way to celebrate all the good changes in my life. I find a cute little old-fashioned ice cream parlor in a shopping center about fifteen minutes from my house.

I probably don’t need the sugar, but after weeks of interviews, packing, moving, and general life shit, I deserve it.

I order two scoops of cherries jubilee and as I turn to find somewhere to sit, I crash into someone. “Shit,” I exclaim as my lovely, hard-earned ice cream drops to the floor.

“Oh my God,” the person I ran into says. “I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going and I can buy you another one. I’m so sorry, I really am, I swear I didn’t see you there-”

“Breathe, Pres,” someone else says.

I look up from the mess at my feet to the two kids in front of me. One of them looks like he’s about ready to cry, his blue eyes are shiny with what must be tears. The other is speaking to him in soft, gentle tones and holding his hands, trying to soothe him.

“It’s okay,” I tell them. “Accidents happen. A little mess can get cleaned up, nobody got hurt and that’s the important thing.”

“I really am sorry,” he says again. “Let us buy you more?”

I want to protest, but if it’ll make the kid feel better, I’ll let him. “You don’t have to, but the thought is appreciated.”

“Go sit down,” his friend says, “I’ll get everything taken care of.”

By this point, one of the employees has come over to clean up the mess and the few people sitting at tables are back to minding their own business.

“We really are sorry,” the other boy says after his friend walks off to sit down.

“No harm done.” We step up to the counter and I let the boy order theirs first. “Is he going to be okay?”

He gives me a small smile, “Yeah, he will, he’s just a bit shaken up. He gets…anxious easily, I guess.”

When we get to the cash register I hand over my card.

“You were supposed to let us pay!”

“It’s fine, my treat, please.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You can pay it forward in some other way.”

“We will.” He gives me a smile and heads over to his friend.

I find my own table and watch them interact. The dark-haired kid I was talking to in line grabs the other one’s hand and the way they smile and lean toward each other tells me there’s more to their relationship.

It makes me happy to see them so comfortable in their own skin. I would have loved to have what they do when I was their age.

Turning away from them, I focus on my own ice cream. The flavor bursts across my tongue and I have to hold back a moan. To some, having ice cream for dinner, alone to boot, might seem like the loneliest mini-celebration ever, but for me, it’s perfect.

I spent so long trying to make sure my brother was taken care of, and that he understood how much I cared and valued his accomplishments, teaching him that it’s the little things that matter just as much as the big ones. Now I’m on my own, and I’m okay with making my own celebrations memorable in the little ways that I enjoy. As long as they bring me happiness, who cares how small it is?

The two teens leave before I do. I watch as the blond, the one who ran into me, takes his boyfriend’s backpack. The smile that lights up on the brunet’s face makes my heart ache with a longing I haven’t felt in a very long time.

Maybe it’s because the dark hair and eyes remind me of Robert, maybe it’s because they have what I would have killed for at that age, or maybe it’s something else entirely.

Abrianna Denae

About the Author

Abrianna Denae is a twenty-four-year-old author living in Northern California. An English major, she has always had a passion for writing.

Deciding to sit down and write one of the many stories that had plagued her mind for years was the easy part—finding the time to do it was a different story.

Caffeine is her best friend, and sleep is her worst enemy.

A lover of books that make the reader feel something, she tries to incorporate as much of her real-world views and feelings into her stories as she can.

Social Media

Facebook | Facebook Group | Twitter | InstagramBookBub | Goodreads Author Page | Amazon Author Page

You can also email her at authorabridenae@gmail.com

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Blog Tour: Dropnauts by J. Scott Coatsworth

Dropnauts | J. Scott Coatsworth

The Redemption Cycle #1

BANNER1 - Dropnauts

Release Date: May 10th, 2021

Cover Artist: J. Scott Coatsworth, Sleepy Fox Studios

Length: 130,000

Buy Links:

Other Worlds Ink | Amazon | iBooks | Barnes & Noble | Kobo |

Add to Goodreads

COVER - Dropnauts

Blurb

Life after the Crash.

Over a century after the end of the Earth, life goes on in Redemption, the sole remaining Lunar colony, and possibly the last outpost of humankind in the Solar System. But with an existential threat burrowing its way into the Moon’s core, humanity must recolonize the homeworld.

Twenty brave dropnauts set off on a mission to explore the empty planet. Four of them—Rai, Hera, Ghost and Tien—have trained for two-and-a-half years for the Return. They’re bound for Martinez Base, just outside the Old Earth city of San Francisco.

But what awaits them there will turn their assumptions upside down—and in the process, either save or destroy what’s left of humanity.

MEME1 - Dropnauts

Excerpt

We’re going home.

Rai sweated inside his suit, white-knuckling the arms of the retrofitted launch chair under his suit gloves. He watched the Zhenyi’s launch countdown clock.

Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight…

 Outside he was calm, but inside he vibrated like an erhu string, his stomach doing acrobatics in his chest. I’m not ready.

Five teams of dropnauts had strapped themselves into their jumper ships, prepared for the ascent from Redemption on the lunar surface to Launchpad station. Outside his porthole, the blue-green marble of Earth beckoned.

Forty-five, forty-four…

Rai cast a nervous glance at his three teammates. Hera was doing her preflight check, her back to him, sweat dripping down the umber skin of her neck from her short-cropped, curly black hair.

Behind him on his right, Tien’s eyes were closed, and she was still as a golden statue. Zen.

He turned to find Ghost looking at him from behind. His ex grinned, running his hand through his lanky, dirty blond hair, his green eyes twinkling. His skin was as white as Rai’s own, but with a dusting of freckles over the bridge of his nose.

Rai managed a pale imitation of a smile back. –It’s totally safe.- Ghost’s voice pinged in his head, em to em.

-Sure. Easy for you to say.– Ghost had never feared a thing in his life.

Rai sighed. If he had to, he could take the small ship apart and put it back together with his bare hands, a skill learned under Sam’s supervision—the mech was as harsh a taskmaster as any human Rai had ever worked for. Still, he felt like puking. The speeches and adulation of the farewell celebration were over, and now his doubts circled like vultures. I’m not ready.

Thirty-two, thirty-one…

You’ll be ok.– Hera’s determined voice this time. She turned to squeeze his knee, and then fired up the Zhenyi’s hydro-fuel engine. He flashed her a sheepish grin.

A hundred meters away, the Bristol’s takeoff shook the landing pad. Rai watched it rise, carrying Dax, Jess, Ola, and Xiu Ying, the London team, toward the bright stars above. The jumper’s expelled water froze almost instantly, falling as snow over the snaking lava tube that held the city of Redemption. A lunar blizzard whipped by them and shimmered into nothing.

Rai closed his eyes, remembering the night before. Jess, laughing and dancing with him at Heaven, the clear dome of the lunar sky sparkling above them, the heavy beat of the thromb club pulsing through his chest. Dancing like no one was watching.

He rubbed his jaw. It still ached from the fist he’d taken to the face. Wild party. And a wilder night with Ayvin, the jack he’d picked up at the club.

Zhenyi, ready for liftoff in T-Minus ten seconds.” Sam’s voice, coming from Team Five’s ship, the Liánhuā, was cool and collected. Did the mech feel emotion, like the nausea that was boiling in Rai’s guts? His teammates were strong, smart, and prepared for anything. I can do this. Besides, it was too late to back out now.

“Affirmative.” Hera shifted in her seat, her biframes stretching her paralyzed legs for her.

“You’ll do okay, tiger.” Ghost elbowed him in the ribs.

“Six, five, four…” Hera swiped the glossy white control deck, and the launch controls appeared, floating over the white surface.

“Leave him alone.” Rai could hear the icy frown in Tien’s voice.

He closed his eyes, willing his stomach to calm. Here we go. Nothing he could do about it now.

“Three, two, one… hang on.” Hera fired the engines, and the craft lifted on a cloud of steam into the star-filled skies of Luna.

Rai squeezed his armrests again as G-force pushed him hard back in his seat. He was committed now. Poppies, Chinese Houses, Fiddlenecks, Baby Blue Eyes, Yellow Pansies, Star Lilies… Reciting the flowers of the old San Francisco basin helped soothe his abraded nerves as the rumbling of the little craft rattled his bones.

He opened his eyes to see Redemption receding below them. The great lava tube was striped with sparkling bands of solar receptors that let sunlight into the city below. Rail lines snaked out from Redemption to the transit center like roping vines—to the seed launcher at Copernicus Crater, to Renewal colony, and beyond.

As the city shrank below them, his fear turned to sadness, a lump forming in his throat. He’d taken his home for granted, enthralled by the idea of joining humankind’s greatest adventure in a century. Now he might never see it again.

The hydro rocket thrust them up out of Luna’s gravity well into naked space, toward the bright blue skies of the empty Earth above. Rai stared at it, that enigmatic ball in space which no one had visited in over a century. What secrets are you hiding?

The roar cut off as quickly as it had begun, leaving the Zhenyi drifting upward in silence as they slipped out of Luna’s grasp.

Hera’s hands flew across the deck, swapping the launch controls for navigation, and nudged them onto a new course following the Bristol toward the Launchpad.

Rai let go, his breath coming out in a heavy sigh.

“See? That wasn’t so bad.” Ghost unbuckled his seatbelt and stretched, yawning as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

God, he’s beautiful. Pale as his namesake under his mop of dirty blond hair, the engineer’s thick arms were just a suggestion under the bulky suit, but Rai could still see them in his mind. Ghost’s well-toned muscles, the smell of his skin after—

“You okay, buddy?” Ghost was staring at him, one dark eyebrow raised in concern.

Rai bit his lip and looked away. “Just nervous. Wondering if we’ll ever make it back home”

“Hey, if things go well after the drop, maybe you and me could open the first Earthside bar since the Crash.” Ghost leaned over him from behind to stare at the Earth through the porthole, his cheek close to Rai’s

“That’s crazy.” But his spirits lifted. It was idiotic. And just the distraction he needed.

Ghost sank back into his own seat. “Every outpost needs a good bar where the colonists can blow off a little steam, right?”

Rai laughed in spite of himself, warming to the idea. “We could call it ‘The Frontier’.”

“Or ‘The Wild Hookup’.”

“Best beer this side of the planet.”

Only beer!”

Rai snorted. Just like old times. He hadn’t forgiven Ghost, though. Not yet. He looked down at his gloved hands, emblazoned with the leaf-and-orb of Redemption’s space service.

Things had ended badly between them—crash and burn bad. Still, they’d be too busy the next few weeks to think about anything but the drop. The survival of Redemption and the remnants of humanity depended on them.

He could let it go. I have to. He’d managed the launch, after all. I can do this too.

Ghost squeezed his shoulder and closed his eyes, touching his temple and bobbing his head to a song only he could hear.

Rai turned away.

You’re stronger than any of us. Hera had told him that the night before. Still, he didn’t feel strong.

He looked out of the porthole again at the Earth—the same view they’d had from Heaven. And yet somehow, it looked different. More real.

Poppies, Chinese Houses, Fiddlenecks, Baby Blue Eyes, Yellow Pansies, Star Lilies…

He touched his hand to the porthole. Even through the glove, it was cold. We’re going home.

About the Author

AUTHOR AVATAR J. Scott Coatsworth

Scott lives with his husband Mark in a yellow bungalow in Sacramento. He was indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine. He devoured her library, but as he grew up, he wondered where all the people like him were.

He decided that if there weren’t queer characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.

A Rainbow Award winning author, he runs Queer Sci Fi, QueeRomance Ink, and Other Worlds Ink with Mark, sites that celebrate fiction reflecting queer reality, and is a full member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA).

AUTHOR PIC - Dropnauts - J. Scott Coatsworth

Social Media

Website: https://www.jscottcoatsworth.com

Facebook Personal: https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworth

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworthauthor/

Twitter: https://www.jscottcoatsworth.com/jscoatsworth

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jscottcoatsworth/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8392709.J_Scott_Coatsworth

QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/

Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/J.-Scott-Coatsworth/e/B011AFO4OQ

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/j-scott-coatsworth

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Giveaway

Scott has a Rafflecopter giveaway with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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