Tag Archives: Release Blitz

Release Blitz: The Edge Of The World by Garrett Leigh

The Edge Of The World | Garrett Leigh

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Buy Links:

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Universal Link

Exclusive to Amazon and Available to Borrow with Kindle Unlimited

Cover Design: Black Jazz Design

Length: 60,000 words approx.

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Blurb

Shay Maloney is living his dream—on tour with his pirate/folk-rock band. But you can’t know where you’re going until you know where you’re from, and that’s where moody filmmaker and researcher Ollie Pietruska comes in.

The band’s management persuades Shay to let a television company film a documentary about his roots beyond his adoptive Irish family, and Ollie comes into his life knowing more about Shay than Shay’s ever known about himself.

But while Ollie holds the key to Shay’s past, he’s also hiding deep scars. Even as the hardships of the tour bring them closer, Ollie’s demons threaten the blossoming romance. They might both reach the breaking point before Ollie realises he’s been standing on the edge of the world for too long, and it’s Shay who holds the key to his future.

A friends-to-lovers, rock star, road-tripping romance, with a guaranteed happily-ever-after.

About The Author

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Garrett Leigh is an award-winning British writer and book designer.

Garrett’s debut novel, Slide, won Best Bisexual Debut at the 2014 Rainbow Book Awards, and her polyamorous novel, Misfits was a finalist in the 2016 LAMBDA awards.

When not writing, Garrett can generally be found procrastinating on Twitter, cooking up a storm, or sitting on her behind doing as little as possible, all the while shouting at her menagerie of children and animals and attempting to tame her unruly and wonderful FOX.

Garrett is also an award winning cover artist, taking the silver medal at the Benjamin Franklin Book Awards in 2016. She designs for various publishing houses and independent authors at blackjazzdesign.com and co-owns the specialist stock site moonstockphotography.com with renowned LGBTQA+ photographer Dan Burgess.

Social Media

Website: http://www.garrettleigh.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/garrettleighauthor/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Garrett_Leigh

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Release Blitz: Dravyn’s Garden by Jessamyn Kingley

Dravyn’s Garden | Jessamyn Kingley

D’Vaire #15

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Cover Artist: LJ Anderson, Mayhem Cover Creations

Release Date: January 16, 2020

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Buy Links:

Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

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Blurb

In one extraordinary garden, is it possible to grow love?

Drindyr Duke Dravyn D’Vairedracon is is a quiet man who finds happiness amongst his plants. His affinity for living things astonishes those around him since he doesn’t have a drop of druidic blood in his veins.

Awed by his talent, his family grows convinced that someday when Fate pairs him, it will be a druid that is at his side. Someone to care for and who shares his love of gardening would be a dream come true for Dravyn.

Killian the Dwyer is a man broken and his secrets are plenty. Once the leader of the Circle of Druids, he handed off his duties and escaped, his whereabouts unknown. Rumors abound that he makes his home high in a tree in a faraway land. He is missed, and many who care for him reach out to no avail. Full of pain and taking comfort in his solitude, Killian only leaves the sanctity of his leafy abode to answer an invitation he finds himself unable to ignore.

Killian makes his first public appearance in centuries, and when he locks eyes with Dravyn, they discover they are mates. Astonished, neither man says a word and Killian retreats. Two and a half years of silence on Killian’s part have passed, and Dravyn is tired of waiting.

He wants the other half of his soul but is convinced Killian won’t do for the job. Fearful of what the future holds but afraid of defying Fate, Killian cannot help being intrigued by the talented dragon.

As they settle in Dravyn’s expansive garden, if the pair can find common ground, they might just discover the seeds to grow a love without limits.

Excerpt

Yanking off his gloves, Dravyn crammed them into the back pocket of his cargo pants. Crossing his arms over his chest, he waited for the guy to cross the distance between them. He was the last person on this planet Dravyn wanted to see, but if he wanted his freedom, he was going to have to deal with Killian the Dwyer.

“This is an amazing garden for a dragon,” Killian said once he was a few feet from where Dravyn had his boots planted into the sandy dirt.

“For a dragon?”

“Shifters aren’t normally known for their cultivating skills.”

“What exactly do you think we are known for?” Dravyn asked, wondering why the hell they were having this weird-ass conversation. He didn’t think Killian could be any more condescending if he tried.

“The obvious answer is for going from man to beast.”

“And when we aren’t in beast form, what is it you think we do?”

“I don’t know. I’ll confess I don’t really know any shifters.”

“You live in a tree; do you know anybody?”

“What’s wrong with living in a tree?”

“Look, I don’t give a shit where you live. What are you doing here?”

“I thought that would be obvious. We’re mates. I’m here to see if we can make things work.”

“I wrote you letters for two and a half years. You ignored them,” Dravyn pointed out. “So, excuse me if I’m surprised you have any interest in Fate.”

“Druids believe in Fate.”

“Apparently on their own sweet-ass timetable, with no concern for anyone else’s feelings.”

“I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be but—”

“But nothing, Killian the Dwyer. Go back to your tree.”

“I have a lot of explaining to do and—”

“Excuses to make.”

Killian’s brownish-green eyes with their interesting glints of gold narrowed. His face was even more remarkably handsome than Dravyn recalled, which only pissed him off more. The glossy hair was shaggier, and he seemed to have forgotten to put on shoes, but Killian was a perfect male specimen of lanky proportions. “Are you going to let me finish a statement?”

“You can talk all you want,” Dravyn retorted. He pulled his gloves out of his pants and tugged them on. “I’ve got work to do. Take your damn plants back too, I don’t want them near my garden.”

“I wasn’t going to leave them behind, so I’m going to need space in your precious garden.”

“Nope, get lost. You’ve got experience in that. Like when you walked into a ballroom and refused to acknowledge your mate, then teleported home to your tree.”

“You seem very bitter about the tree thing.”

“Must be nice to ignore your responsibilities and hide in a tree.”

“Hiding?”

“You heard me. Now beat it so I can work,” Dravyn growled as he crouched to check on his hybrid. There was no way he was going to lose another one. This plant had taken over a year of work to create, and each time he took one out of his cramped greenhouse, it refused to bloom and died. He wanted to give a cutting to Ellery for his solarium, so he had to solve this puzzle.

“I don’t know where to go. Where’s our room?”

Dravyn rocketed back to his feet and whipped around. “Our room?”

“I’m guessing you don’t sleep in a tree, as you’re strongly opposed to anyone occupying one. I promise you it doesn’t hurt the tree in question.”

“I’m not opposed—shit, who cares. That’s your business, not mine. What you aren’t doing is sleeping in my room.”

Killian took off and marched toward the deck that accessed Dravyn’s section of the house.

“Hey, where the hell do you think you’re going?” Dravyn demanded as he stalked after the sexy druid.

“That deck.”

“Stay away from it,” Dravyn snarled, but Killian was already thundering up the wooden steps.

“Wow, you hypocrite. Look at this,” Killian crowed once Dravyn got up to the wide deck. “That’s a bed in a tree.”

“Get off my deck.”

Killian stuck his head into the open doors of Dravyn’s sitting room. “Indoor and outdoor living. Very nice. Oh, and there are two beds, so we don’t have to share right away.” Killian dropped his bag on the one nestled in the tree. “I’ll take this one until we get to know one another better.”

“You aren’t sleeping in my room.”

“It’s a beautiful space.”

“It was until you marched into it.”

“It’s okay, we have to try. We might not be able to make this work, but at least we’ll have given it our best shot.”

Dravyn shook his head and pulled his baseball cap lower, over his eyes. The druid was stubborn, and he wasn’t going to sacrifice his hybrid for this asshat. “You need to go. Take your plants, your bare-ass feet, and get lost.”

Killian’s gaze dropped to his toes as Dravyn stomped back down the stairs. “I hate shoes.”

“Well, I hate you.”

“Okay, I deserve that,” Killian called after him.

“You should also think about a haircut.”

“Look who’s talking.”

About the Author

Jessamyn Kingley lives in Nevada where she begs the men in her head to tell her their amazing stories which she dutifully writes it all down in what has become a small mountain of notebooks. She falls in love with each couple and swears whatever book she wrote last is her absolute favorite.

Jessamyn is married and working toward remembering to start the dishwasher without being distracted by the scent of the magical detergent. For personal enjoyment, she aids in cat rescue while slashing and gashing her way through mobs in various MMORPGs. Caffeine is her very best friend and is only cast aside briefly for the sin better known as BBQ potato chips.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Facebook Group

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

Follow the tour and check out the other blog posts here

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Release Blitz: Rescuing Kyle by Lynn Michaels

Rescuing Kyle | Lynn Michaels

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Release Date: 14.01.20

Amazon US: http://bit.ly/Rescuing_Kyle

Amazon UK: http://bit.ly/Rescuing-Kyle

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Blurb

Kyle Blyss lives to tear up the track on his motorcycle, and touring across Europe is unbelievable. Meeting up with his cousin, an Army Ranger, who he looks a lot like, only adds to his adventure. When he meets his cousin’s friends, Kyle is excited by the lust that pulses between him and the sexy CIA agent, and he’s eager to explore the connection.

Steve Dixon always wanted to be a superspy, so he joined the CIA. His current assignment is a counterterrorist joint task force, headquartered in Germany. When he meets his co-worker’s motorcycle riding cousin, he’s overwhelmed at their mutual attraction.

Then everything goes south.

A mistaken identity, the Delta Team rescue, and a bag of gummies lead Kyle and Steve to re-examine their careers, their love…and their lives.

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Excerpt

Steve tagged along with Warren to pick Kyle up, whether Warren wanted him there or not. Frankfurt airport was a big wide open space with masses of people all going in their own separate directions—a riot of color against a silver backdrop. Steve followed after Warren as he made his way through the hoards. They only stopped moving to check the huge board announcing the flights. “Well?” Steve asked. “Which one?”

“There. On time.”

Steve couldn’t figure out the flights listed, but Warren picked it out and then moved again without waiting for Steve. He darted after Warren. His heart pounded in his chest as they maneuvered the crowds toward his gate, but that beating had more to do with seeing Kyle, than the exertion of speed walking through the airport. It didn’t matter. He swallowed hard when Warren came to a stop.

“He should be coming from there.” Warren stopped at the farthest point they could go. Steve could have pulled some strings to get them behind the security line, but he felt that needed to be reserved for something special, not simply picking up his boyfriend.

Boyfriend?

Steve stuffed that thought down. He couldn’t afford to think that way.

He scanned the people coming out of the large tiled hallway and walking past them. All the different faces, different sizes, shapes, and colors, but none of them were Kyle. Steve hated the waiting.

“Stop fidgeting. He’ll be here in a sec,” Warren grumbled.

“I know.”

“Hey, let me ask you something.”

“Sure.” Steve refocused on Warren. His eyebrows crinkled over his nose, making him appear serious. “What is it?” He feared a lecture about screwing around with Warren’s cousin.

Warren took a deep breath and looked away before asking, “Are you like, uh, attracted to me?”

“What?”

“You know? I look like Kyle, so…”

Steve snorted out a laugh. “No. It does not work that way, man. I’m not attracted to you. At. All.”

Warren glared at him. “How is that possible? We look like twins.”

“Come on, Warren. You can’t be serious. Stop yanking my chain.” Steve crossed his arms. “Attraction is more than looks. It’s that zing you get.”

“Fine. Don’t be attracted to me then.”

Warren was probably playing it off as not serious after being told no. “Warren?”

“Oh, look. There he is.”

Kyle came running at them. He dropped his bag and leaped into Steve’s arms. Steve grabbed him, holding him tight. That kind of greeting surprised Steve, but he loved it.

“Steve, you’re here!” Kyle peppered Steve’s face with kisses.

“Oh, wow. Now you don’t like me, either. Jerks.” Warren picked up Kyle’s bag. “Feet back on the floor, Romeo. You have any other luggage to collect?”

Kyle put his feet down and pulled away from Steve, then he grabbed Warren in a bear hug. “Missed you too, bro.”

“Bags, Kyle?” Warren choked out the words as if Kyle were strangling him.

“Yeah. I have one coming out. Let’s get to baggage claim.” Kyle grabbed Steve’s hand and tugged him over. He pecked him on the lips, but Steve wanted more. He grabbed Kyle’s face and pulled him into a deeper kiss.

“Oh, no. Knock that shit off.” Warren shoved Kyle, who laughed at him. “Save it for later, boys.”

“Jealous?” Kyle asked with a wink.

Warren flipped him the bird and walked off to find the belt that would soon spit out Kyle’s bag.

About The Author

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Lynn Michaels lives and writes in Tampa, Florida where the sun is hot and the Sangria is cold. When she’s not writing she’s kayaking, hanging with her husband, or reading by the pool.

She writes Male/Male romance because she believes everyone deserves a happy ending and the dynamics of male characters can be intriguing, vulnerable, and exciting. She has both contemporary and paranormal titles and has been writing since 2014.

Her stories don’t follow any set guidelines or ideas, but come from her heart and contain love in many forms.

Social Media

Website: https://rubiconwriting.com/lynn-michaels/

Lynn’s Loonie Bin – Facebook Readers Group: http://bit.ly/LooneyBinonFacebook

Twitter: https://twitter.com/sljasble

Amazon: http://bit.ly/LynnOnAmazon

Bookbub: http://bit.ly/LynnMichaelsonBB

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/lynnmichaels69/

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Release Blitz: When The Stars Align by Isabel Jolie

When The Stars Align | Isabel Jolie

West Side series #1

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Release Day: January 13, 2020

Buy Links:

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Isabel-Jolie/e/B082LVT5PM

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/when-the-stars-align-isabel-jolie/1135398700

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/when-the-stars-align-3

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Blurb

Anna and Jackson meet their last year in Chapel Hill. She’s accepted a job at a respected, award-winning advertising agency in New York City, and he has a position at a prestigious Atlanta firm. Sparks fly, but when he suggests she change her plans, she’ll have none of it. By the time moving day comes, they don’t even share goodbyes.

Four years later, Anna and Jackson meet again in New York City when, thanks to a mutual connection, he moves into her apartment building. She’s a Creative Director at a medium-sized advertising agency. He’s just moved from Atlanta to New York to accept a position at a well-respected law firm.

Anna, friendly to everyone, welcomes him to her city. Jackson has zero interest in repeating past mistakes, and he’s still angry over what she did years ago. But he’s in a new city, she’s his neighbor, and a friendship forms.

With a singular focus on making partner and no interest in exploring a relationship with Anna, Jackson sells her on a friends with benefits arrangement that won’t take them off course. In his mind, it’s a win-win. What could go wrong?

The arrangement works until Anna battles sexual harassment at her agency and the two don’t see eye to eye on how to handle it. Anna cares about her career, and Jackson knows the law and plans to leverage it.

The situation forces Jackson to face some realities about his father and life choices. Anna has zero intention of letting him tell her what to do. Both find themselves wondering if they should step back once again and wait for a better day, when their relationship makes sense. A day when the stars align.

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Excerpt

Chewie and I only have to wait a minute for the elevator. We walk in, and I hum a bit as I scratch her floppy mass of hair. The elevator door slides to close. A hand shoots through the gap to force the door open. I tighten my grip on Chewie’s leash as she attempts to lunge forward to say hello. “Chewie!” I scold.

I grip the leash tightly to keep her at my side. Once I have my shaggy girl under control, I raise my head and see the man standing on the threshold of the elevator. My mouth drops open. My lungs contract. 

Hazel eyes I haven’t seen in four years stare back at me. The blue-gray suit offsets those chameleon eyes, casting a bluer hue. The short, trimmed beard makes him appear older and more distinguished. The dark, curly, college student hair, now cut in a shorter, controlled, professional style, says business.

My skin tingles. From shock or from being in his presence again, I’m not sure.

Jackson’s eyes flick between me and my rambunctious, shaggy brown beast. “Anna?”

“Jackson?” Chewie attempts to jump on him, and I give a quick pull on the leash and command, “Sit.” I close my mouth, but I’m still gaping. How could I not be? Jackson lives in Atlanta. I never thought I’d see him again. That door closed.

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About the Author

Isabel Jolie is the mother of two strong, kindhearted girls and she’s been married to her supportive, romantic husband for over fifteen years. Isabel received a BA Journalism from the University of North Carolina and an MBA from New York University.

She has a business background in advertising and marketing. Wine, falling snow, good friends, and a delicious book with all the feels are a few of her favorite things.

Social Media

Website: http://www.isabeljoliebooks.com

Twitter: @isabeljoliebook

Facebook: https://facebook.com/isabeljoliebooks

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19801964.Isabel_Jolie

Pinterest: isabeljoliebooks

Instagram: https://instagram.com/isabeljoliebooks

Giveaway

Win one of 3 packages, containing one custom coffee mug + a signed copy of When The Stars Align.

 a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Release Blitz: Shots On Goal by Amy Aislin

Shots On Goal | Amy Aislin

Stick Side #3

New Release Banner - Shots on Goal

Release Date January 7, 2020

Length (Print & Ebook): 84,600 words | 330 pages

Cover artist: Natasha Snow

Buy Links:

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/shots-on-goal-amy-aislin/1134804933

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/shots-on-goal-2

Amazon: https://geni.us/ShotsOnGoal

iTunes: https://books.apple.com/ca/book/shots-on-goal/id1487229069

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/47968323-shots-on-goal

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Blurb

Recently traded to the newly formed Vermont Trailblazers, professional hockey player Roman Kinsey needs to focus on helping the team win games and filling the stands, not on the blond, bespectacled part-timer who works at the library he volunteers at. He knows all too well that outing himself equals heartache and ridicule…or worse.

Cody Evans, psych major and grad school hopeful, notices everything and thinks too much. But he doesn’t know what to think when he sees Roman reading to kids. The rugged hockey player just doesn’t look like the type. But it stirs something in him, something he’s never felt before.

When the library is threatened with closure, Cody enlists Roman’s help. As they get to know each other better…much, much better…they realize that they have more in common than books. But Roman’s keeping a big part of himself from his team, and giving in to his feelings for Cody might be more than he’s willing to risk.

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Excerpt

“You read?”

“Why do you say that like I’m an unintelligent jock who’s never seen a book in his life?” Roman asked. He didn’t sound insulted, merely curious.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Or was it? “I guess I figured you wouldn’t have enough time to read.”

“I’m a hockey player, not a doctor. I do get downtime.”

“Enough downtime to come watch my friend’s game sometime?”

Roman finished off his coffee and set his mug on the table. “I suppose. Don’t know why you want me to so bad, though.”

You look like you need friends was not the way Cody should answer. He tried for nonchalant and shrugged. “Why wouldn’t you? The Mountaineers are awesome, Glen Hill isn’t too far from Burlington, and it’s a great way to spend an evening.”

“The University of Vermont has a hockey team. I could just go watch them.”

Cody scowled at the mention of the Glen Hill Mountaineers’ rivals. “Traitor.”

It made Roman laugh and little creases formed at the corner of his eyes, which, for some reason, made Cody grin back at him.

Reviews

“With lots of hockey, delicious food, and the sweetest couple ever, Amy Aislin scores a hat trick with Shots on Goal.” — Kelly Jensen, award-winning author of Block and Strike

Shots on Goal is a great wintertime read. Like a warm blanket and a mug of hot chocolate! Huddle up by the fire and enjoy this cozy story!” — Allison Temple, author of The Seacroft Stories series

“I love hockey romance, and this book delivered all the romance I needed alongside awesome hockey.” — RJ Scott, USA Today bestselling author

“I’m already a big fan of Amy Aslin’s Stick Side series, so I was thrilled to get an early read of Shots on Goal. Cody and Roman’s story didn’t disappoint. Shots on Goal is the perfect blend of the beloved sports and small-town romance tropes. Roman’s gruff, strained interactions with his ice hockey team play well against Cody’s heartwarming relationship with his fellow library lovers.

As these two men inadvertently team up to help save the historic library, Roman realizes there just may be someone worth opening up to, and at the same time, Cody learns that sometimes falling in love brings with it tough choices. Shots on Goal is a strong addition to Aislin’s delicious world-building surrounding the sexy, competitive world of hockey. We get to visit old friends from previous books, but it is not necessary to have read them to enjoy Shots on Goal.” Lucy Lennox, Bestselling author

**The Nature of the Game (Stick Side #2) is on $0.99 sale from January 7-13, 2020!**

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About The Author

Amy’s lived with her head in the clouds since she first picked up a book as a child, and being fluent in two languages means she’s read a lot of books! She first picked up a pen on a rainy day in fourth grade when her class had to stay inside for recess. Tales of treasure hunts with her classmates eventually morphed into love stories between men, and she’s been writing ever since. She writes evenings and weekends—or whenever she isn’t at her full-time day job saving the planet at Canada’s largest environmental non-profit.

An unapologetic introvert, Amy reads too much and socializes too little, with no regrets. She loves connecting with readers. Join her Facebook Group to stay up-to-date on upcoming releases and for access to early teasers, find her on Instagram and Twitter, or sign up for her infrequent newsletter.

Social Media

Website: https://amyaislin.com/

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

Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/amyaislin

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/amy-aislin

Twitter: https://twitter.com/amy_aislin

Facebook:https://www.facebook.com/amy.aislin

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/AmyAislinAuthor

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/ddvWFv

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/amyaislinauthor/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16693566.Amy_Aislin

Amazon:http://amazon.com/author/amyaislin

QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/amy-aislin/

Giveaway

Winner’s choice of ONE signed paperback from Amy’s backlist!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Release Blitz: Kiss Me At Midnight by Gwen Martin

Kiss Me At Midnight | Gwen Martin

Release Date: December 31, 2019

Heat Rating: 5 flames

Length: 7,000 words

It is a stand-alone book.

Buy Links:

Available on Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Add on Goodreads

Blurb

Aiden is sick and tired of being bombarded by love everywhere he looks. He begrudgingly attends a New Year’s Eve party and is most definitely ready to leave the glitz and glam of Instagram Influencer propaganda behind.

When a chance meeting leaves him covered in champagne by a handsome stranger named Blake, his night starts to brighten up. Blake’s warm smile, smooth talking and killer dance moves loosens Aiden’s bitterness to love and opens his heart to help Aiden ring his bell into the new year.

Kiss Me at Midnight is a steamy New Year’s Eve MM romance featuring midnight kisses, the spirit of the season, and a meet-ugly that turns into a sexy countdown to love.

This 7,000-word stand-alone short story contains explicit sex and strong language intended for 18+ readers and is set within the same verse as What Happened in Vegas, but can be enjoyed as a stand-alone.

Excerpt

“The hotel I’m staying at isn’t far from here and it provided transportation,” Blake says, tilting his head towards a line of queuing limos.

Aiden holds back a sigh of relief.

It doesn’t occur to Aiden that they’re actually taking a limo to a hotel until they’re actually in the stretched out back, a privacy window sliding down with a bored driver waiting for instructions. Blake rattles off the name of a hotel, an Aiden does a mental check to figure out if it’s what he thinks it is.

Which is a super swanky hotel, is what.

“What the hell do youah, yesdo?” Aiden asks. He’s a bit breathless, because after the window clicked shut, Blake is on him immediately, pushing him down onto the bench leather seat, grinding his hips into Aiden, and driving him fucking wild.

“I work with high end entertainment clients,” Blake replies, his tone too smooth for someone literally dry humping another person. Aiden can feel his hard-on, and every time he does a swivel with his hips it makes Aiden light the fuck up. “It’s really a thankless job. Shall we keep talking shop or can I kiss you now?”

“Kiss,” Aiden demands, ragged and needy. He lifts his head up to meet Blake halfway, their mouths smashing together in desperation. It’s sloppy and searing, and Aiden wants to chase that taste that sends him shivering all over, makes him nearly come in his pants like a teenager.

About the Author

Gwen Martin lives in Florida where the sun is always shining, the humidity is always high, and Disney is just a hop skip away. When she’s not trying to write one of her million story ideas, she’s usually hanging out with her husband and four cats.

Gwen first started writing at a young age, coming up with stories in class instead of paying attention to the math lesson. Since then she has been exploring her love of writing in various fan communities where she has learned how to cultivate character development and romantic interactions.

She has a strong love affair with cold brew coffee, black cats, and nerding out in various fandoms. When she’s not writing, she’s reading everything she can get her hands on, listening to a lot of lo-fi and making playlists, chilling with her four gatos and obsessing about Pusheen. Because it’s always about Pusheen.

Keep In Touch With Gwen

Social Media

Blog/Website | Facebook | Instagram | Pinterest

Newsletter Sign-up

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

Follow the tour and check out the other blog posts here

 

Release Blitz: The Captain and the Squire by Catherine Curzon and Eleanor Harkstead

The Captain and the Squire |Catherine Curzon and Eleanor Harkstead

 

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Genre: Contemporary romantic comedy

Length: 70,000 words

Publisher: Pride Publishing

Release: January 14th, 2020

 Buy Links:

Publisher: https://www.pride-publishing.com/book/the-captain-and-the-squire

Amazon: mybook.to/captainsquire

Add To Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/48838954-the-captain-the-squire

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Blurb

A sexy city boy and a country squire will set the countryside alight! 

Tarquin Bough is a tweedy squire with an ambitious fiancée who controls his every move. He’s also the owner of the finest collection of saucy artefacts in the world. From Christine Keeler’s eyelash to the Virgin Queen’s dildo, they’re all safe in Tarquin’s care.

Christopher Hardacre is a city-slicker with the tightest jodhpurs and the most smackable bottom in London. He’s given up the ratrace for a country life as captain of the village rowing team. The only trouble is, he’s lost his money to a ruthless scam and Bough Bottoms is his last hope of a home.

But Chris hasn’t reckoned on his late uncle’s will. The house comes with a sitting porcine tenant and if Chris can’t look after his newly-acquired pet pig, he’ll lose his inheritance and his last chance at happiness.

When Tarquin sees Chris it’s lust at first sight, but dare he be honest about his feelings in a village where being gay is bound to be a hot topic? As soon as Chris and Tarquin get together, it’s the hottest summer this little corner of England has ever known.

With a scheming local hotshot out to turn the beloved pig into sausages, can the captain and the squire save everybody’s bacon?

Excerpt

Tarquin yawned and stretched in his deckchair. Although most of the blossom had gone from the orchard, blown away by the storms in late spring, it was still a beautiful place to sit in the evening. He took a mouthful of brandy and scratched the head of the pig who was snuffling at the grass beside his chair.

“Now look here, Oracle!” Tarquin held up the length of carved wood that he had been nursing on his lap. “The craftsmanship is second to none.”

The Oracle seemed to be listening, even if she was still busy hunting for truffles. But over the contented snorts of the pig, Tarquin heard the music from next door rise in volume and yet another car revved in the private lane outside his house.

His new neighbor had arrived.

The bastard.

The car doors slammed and the sound of braying laughter carried on the breeze as yet more visitors arrived to greet—who? Who was it who was moving into the Hardacre house anyway? Who was it who’d had removal vans and tradespeople coming and going for weeks to the empty house? Who was responsible for the smell of fresh paint and the sound of hammering and drilling from that tottering, crumbling pile where the late Beardsley Hardacre had lived for his one hundred and three years? Who had landscaped that wild garden?

Who was it who had arrived by nightfall not quite twenty-four hours earlier and was apparently already throwing a party?

And why had this interloper made no effort to claim the Oracle of Delphi?

“Your new mummy and daddy have arrived, my friend,” Tarquin told the pig, his voice soft. But as another toot and another bray of laughter reached him in his formerly tranquil orchard, he rose from the chair, fire in his tone as he declared, “And I’m going to have words!”

Tarquin ran across the orchard and, his brandy in one hand and the carved wooden length in the other, took the fence in a single bound like a steeplechaser.

The evening air was torn by that most dreadful of sounds—the cry of ripped corduroy trousers.

Now in the Hardacre garden, Tarquin cast a glance back at the fence, where a ragged square of golden-colored corduroy waved back at him like a tiny flag. It must’ve caught on a nail, but instead of going home to change, Tarquin was too inflamed with rage to turn back, and instead plunged on through the garden.

And what an improvement it is!

What had once been a tangle of brambles amid a sea of grass that would have hidden an army was now a manicured lawn so flat that it could have been a golf course. Bright bursts of color sprang from well-tended borders and for the first time in years Tarquin could actually see the banks of the river that ran along the bottom of their neighboring gardens. How strange it was to think that such a beautiful view had been hidden all these years, but the cantankerous old gentleman who had lived here far longer than Tarquin had even been alive’d had little time for gardening. He had been too busy with wine, women and song for that.

And whoever was now in his house seemed to be of similar appetites, Tarquin realized, as he rounded the corner and froze on the edge of the patio.

Everyone appeared to be in swimwear, or something resembling it. Tall, elegant women wearing sarongs and high heels with their jewelry chatted with handsome young men in shorts and little more, each of them holding a fizzing glass of champagne, each of them exuding money and confidence and…the city.

A huge hot tub that bubbled on the patio contained yet more of the incomers, tan and braying and so bloody loud and one of them, he knew, must be the new master of Hardacre Grange.

It had to be the man whose braying laughter was louder than anyone else’s. The man who seemed to be holding court in that absurdly overstated hot tub.

The only one wearing sunglasses on an evening that required no such thing.

Tarquin strode straight up to the hot tub and bellowed, “Which of you ruddy coves is in charge here?”

The chatter fell silent but the thump of the music, of course, did not. The man in sunglasses took a leisurely sip from his glass of champagne and said, “That would be me, squire. Why don’t you grab a glass and hop on in?”

Tarquin shook with fury, the brandy slopping up against the brim of his glass. “Hop in? Hop bloody in? The bally cheek of it—I don’t bathe in public with strangers!”

“Oh, you’ve brought your own booze, I like it!” He lowered his sunglasses just a little and peered closely at Tarquin’s other hand. “And you appear to have also brought a large wooden penis. Is that a traditional welcome in Bough Bottoms? Hello, old man, here’s a penis from all of us on the parish council!”

The partygoers guffawed that braying laugh, every eye now focused on Tarquin’s hand.

“Penis?” Tarquin thundered. Then he recalled the antique object in his hand. “This? This is a Tudor dildo! It belonged to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth I herself!” Tarquin wagged it under the nose of the man in sunglasses, because surely the man couldn’t see properly wearing Ray-Bans in the dusk.

Although Tarquin could see his new neighbor very well, smarmily grinning at Tarquin from under his arrogant flop of blond hair. Tarquin wasn’t going to admit it, but the fellow was in exquisite form, with swimmer’s shoulders and toned arms that Tarquin would have happily spent hours squeezing like a shopper deciding on a grapefruit. And that angular jaw was worthy of a statue, finished off with a square chin that Tarquin would never tire of nibbling on.

Not that he would. Tarquin threw a furious glance at the woman chortling at his new neighbor’s side.

Married. Has to be. Bugger it. 

Or sadly not.

“A Tudor dil— oh, just a minute!” The man pushed his sunglasses up into his hair, his welcoming smile evaporating. “You’re Bough! You’re the man who did Great-Uncle Beardsley out of Prince Albert’s ceremonial Prince Albert!”

“No, I bloody didn’t! It’s mine!” Tarquin stamped his foot. Oh, my dander’s most definitely getting up! “And besides which, you could at least extend the courtesy of pronouncing my surname properly. It’s Boff, to rhyme with cough, not Bow as in bough as in part of a tree! It’s bloody Anglo-Saxon and if my ancestors weren’t conquered by the Normans, I won’t be conquered by a bloody blow-in Yuppie like you, accusing me of theft, who’s got a bath on his patio like a peasant!”

A collective intake of breath sounded around the patio. And where had the patio come from anyway? The last time Tarquin had glimpsed the back of the neighboring house before the brambles had claimed it, this had been a mud pit.

An eyesore.

But the man who now rose from the water of the hot tub was not an eyesore.

Bloody hell, he’s no old Uncle Beardsley.

“Uncle Bea said you were a Bow,” he said in a plummy sneer. Then he grinned and held out his hand, as though Tarquin weren’t juggling a glass of French brandy and Queen Elizabeth’s favorite dildo. “Christopher Hardacre. You can only be my new next-door neighbor. You’re exactly like Bea said you were in his letters. I feel like I already know you!”

Tarquin shoved the dildo into his pocket, its curved end poking out like a rhino horn. He held out his hand. “Your Uncle Beardsley was a dreadful old git—never got on with him, and he always pronounced my name wrong just to rile me. I’m Tarquin Bough, as in cough, and that’s the end of it. Christopher Hardacre, eh? My new neighbor!”

As Tarquin shook Christopher’s square hand, his gaze wandered down the planes of Christopher’s dripping chest, down to his muscular stomach and those wet shorts that clung to his every contour.

My other dander’s up now, blast it.

About The Authors

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Catherine Curzon

Catherine Curzon is a royal historian who writes on all matters of 18th century. Her work has been featured on many platforms and Catherine has also spoken at various venues including the Royal Pavilion, Brighton, and Dr Johnson’s House. Her first play, Being Mr Wickham, premiered in 2019.

Catherine holds a Master’s degree in Film and when not dodging the furies of the guillotine, writes fiction set deep in the underbelly of Georgian London.

She lives in Yorkshire atop a ludicrously steep hill.

You can follow Catherine on Facebook and Twitter and take a look at her website.

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Eleanor Harkstead

Eleanor Harkstead likes to dash about in nineteenth-century costume, in bonnet or cravat as the mood takes her. She can occasionally be found wandering old graveyards.

Eleanor is very fond of chocolate, wine, tweed waistcoats and nice pens. Her large collection of vintage hats would rival Hedda Hopper’s.

Originally from the south-east of England, Eleanor now lives somewhere in the Midlands with a large ginger cat who resembles a Viking.

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