Release Day Review: Claimed by Desire by Skye Jones

I received an ARC for Claimed by Desire from the author in exchange for an honest review.

I should start with the caveat that shifter books are not my usual reading fare. That being said, I decided to give this one a try out of curiosity. I’ll also state that I did not read the first book in this series, but had no trouble following this standalone story.

Dylan is a wolf shifter who lost his mate two years ago. He blames himself for the death of his lover, but also his entire pack, at the hands (or maybe jaws?) of a pack of ancient and decidedly evil vampires.

Let me stop right here to mention I was looking forward to the vampire showdown from the very beginning. Skye Jones does the kind of vampires that smell like decaying flesh and will rip your throat out in the blink of an eye. Those are the kind of vampires I like, and after the whole sparkling vamps sensation came about, I honestly haven’t picked up a single vampire book. This story reminded me why I love Anne Rice and Poppy Z. Brite—because vampires can be seriously fucking good-scary.

Anyway, back to Claimed by Desire: Dylan has gone all rogue, tending a farm in the middle of bumfuck Wales. He hires a cute, (mostly) openly gay farm hand named Aeron, and proceeds to try to ignore their mutual attraction.

Aeron is a fun character. There’s some humorous dialog in here, no little thanks to Aeron’s exuberance.

As one might expect, Aeron and Dylan hem and haw a bit, but then begin a relationship that starts as fuck friends and pretty quickly morphs into something more serious, much to Dylan’s chagrin. There are a few ups and downs, including some drama related to Aeron’s sick mom (she’s suffered from MS for years and Aeron is her primary caregiver).

Just when the two MCs are falling hard for each other, the vamps return. Dylan calls in some furry friends (the MCs from the previous book being three of the considerable bunch), they buckle down for a fight, and it’s as exciting as I’d hoped.

I won’t give up the entire story, but all in all, this was a quick, enjoyable read I’m sure will be a hit with those who love shifter romance.

Four Shooters

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Buy links:

Liquid Silver Books

Amazon


Chris McHart #Free Book and #Giveaway

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Alex’s Surprise is part of the Goodreads DRitC and a free story.

Blurb:

Alex wanted a night of hot passion with Gerome, but he gets more than he ever bargained for. His life will be changed forever in a world where he’ll be thrown in jail— or worse— for being pregnant.

Alex’s best friend, Sam, has been acting strange ever since he met Alex’s one-night stand, but now Alex needs help in order to hide, and Sam is his only hope.

Blurb: Saving AlexSaving Alex2 120

Not only is Alex pregnant, something punishable by jail time, but Gerome, the father of the baby, is a vampire prince. When strangers invade Alex’s home and kidnap him, he doesn’t know who is responsible, if he’ll ever see the man he loves again, or even get to see the child growing inside him.

Considering himself the father of his lover’s child, Sam has a hard time standing around and letting others plan Alex’s rescue. But when the Prince and his trackers find an important clue, the race to save his beloved is on. Now all he can do is cross his fingers that the scheme they’ve devised will work.

When Prince Gerome receives ransom demands, the instructions are clear: mate a complete stranger or he’ll never see Alex or the child he carries again. Will he be able to convince his newly intended to help, or will those seeking to dethrone his family win this evil game of blackmail?

Caution: Contains a kidnapping, unwanted matings, a scheming king, way too many people that follow their own plans and a highly pregnant Alex.

 

Excerpt:

Alex zapped, annoyed, through the channels. He lounged on the couch, bored out of his mind. Sam, his best friend and roommate, had taken up the recliner, reading something. Maybe Alex should do that as well? Watching TV wasn’t going to keep him entertained, since nothing caught his interest, no movie, no documentary, nothing. He zapped on, but stopped at a news report showing a pregnant man. He sat up a bit straighter. What was up with that?

The man’s stomach was swollen, showing he was at least five or six months along. His hands were cuffed in front of his baby bump and tears were streaming down his face. The camera showed a courtroom full of people, slowly sweeping over the interested men and

Alex turned up the volume. What had the man done? And why was he pregnant? He’d heard it was possible, but he’d never encountered someone who’d actually experienced that.

The reporter’s voice came up. “Robert B. was tried for violation of the racial laws. Today’s sentencing was long awaited. No one had heard of pregnant men for years, and there had been uncertainty about the actual jurisdiction in such cases. B., who is, according to doctors, six months along, was sentenced to five years in jail. His child will be put in an orphanage until he is released. The fathering sire has no legal claim over the child. He will be able to visit his child, but he can’t get guardianship over him or her. The child and the carrier will be outcasts of society after that.

“B. broke down after hearing the judge’s decision. Even though it’s forbidden, he clearly hoped the old laws would be overturned. Instead, the judge confirmed that male breeding between the races is still forbidden and punishable. With that, back to the studio.”

The picture changed, now showing a woman in a suit, smiling at the camera. “Thanks to our reporter in Berlin for a summary of today’s events in court. Now to the weather…”

Alex turned down the volume, muting the forecast. He turned to Sam, who had apparently put down his book to watch the news as well. “Did you hear that? How can they judge someone because he got pregnant?”

“I have no idea? Maybe because it’s wrong? Are these children dangerous? I’ve never met one, or heard of one, for that matter, but I guess there’s a reason it’s forbidden. The whole pregnant man thing is so strange, no wonder it’s against the laws. Who knows what’ll come out of such breedings.”

Alex frowned. A new life was precious, not wrong. He couldn’t imagine a child being dangerous, even if it was mixed. Children born from interracial relationships were allowed, as long as one of the parents was female and the other male. Why this didn’t apply to

children born from a same-sex relationship was beyond Alex. Even if it was unusual for a man to be pregnant, he shouldn’t be put in jail for something like that.

This was the first case in a long time, according to the reporter, but he’d not given a reason why the laws were upheld. “It’s still wrong to judge someone for getting pregnant.”

Alex’s Surprise is a free story! You can download it on Goodreads, Amazon and ARe:

http://www.amazon.com/Alexs-Surprise-Unexpected-Book-English-ebook/dp/B00ZCYUT3C/

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-alex039ssurprise-1825488-340.html

http://www.mmromancegroup.com/alexs-surprise-by-chris-mchart/ 

Buy Saving Alex:

http://www.amazon.com/Saving-Alex-Unexpected-Book-English-ebook/dp/B00ZI4GPRA/

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-savingalex-1838752-340.html

Author bio:

Chris McHart is from Germany and, while she’s an accountant, writing is her real passion. She likes to spend time with her family and has way too many animals that demand constant attention. Chris also enjoys landscaping and cooking, even if she’s still looking for someone to clean up after her.

Whenever Chris has a free minute, she spends it writing, a cup of coffee in hand, deeply lost in the worlds her muses have created. When she’s coming up for some air, you’ll find Chris on a lot of social networks. Check out Chris’s website to see where you can find out more. She looks forward to hearing from you!

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100008256641886

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Chris-McHart/326380184192029?ref=hl

Twitter: https://twitter.com/chris_mchart

Blog: www.chrismchart.com

Goodreads link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25719242-alex-s-surprise

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25724552-saving-alex

Publishers: Alex’s Surprise: M/M Romance Group; Saving Alex: Chris McHart

Cover Artist: Meg Bawden, Bawd Designs

_____________

Rafflecopter for a Signed Print Copy of Alex’s Surprise & Saving Alex:

a Rafflecopter giveaway


Midsummer Madness #Flash #Fiction Blog Hop

blog hop midsum
Happy 4th of July! We’ve got a flash fiction blog hop to celebrate, so I’ve tried for a freedom theme today.

It’s a love letter. I even dipped it in tea, not that you can tell with the assholish way I’m posting this. Eh. You may need to zoom in a bit.

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*441 words with a dash of artistic-license-stretchery in time period and tone (although I did read some flowery letters from the 20’s-40’s, so it all depends on the author). Anyway, I didn’t want the guy to end up with a lobotomy (in the 30’s the use of electric shock aversion therapy was just getting warmed up, but they didn’t start scooping people’s brains out until the 40’s). Also, jail was probably tougher to break out of than an old-school psychiatric facility. Maybe. I hope so for the sake of these two.

Here’s the easier-to-read version:

—————————-

July 2, 1933

My Dearest R,

I hope this note finds you as well as can be. It’s my greatest fear that our final farewell left you in a state of dejection, as it has me. The slurs aimed at you were beyond any I’d imagined when first we began our friendship. I confess here and now to my fear and weakness. I failed you. I hesitated to stand by your side throughout the accusations and vile threats. I’d hoped my tendencies would remain undiscovered as yours were paraded for the masses to ridicule.

I am the worst Judas.

Oh, R, my darling, I’ve regretted my inaction every moment since. My contrition is small consolation, I’m certain, while you languish in your wretched cell and endure all manner of humiliation. Good God! The experimentation the gossips describe! As if our kind are less than animals; senseless beasts deserving of hellish punishment, and the angelic whole of mankind shouldering the burden to rehabilitate us. I know your family intends to help you, but their aid is misguided.

We are not abominations, and we do not decide whom we love. It is thrust upon us like a dagger, or soaks our skin slowly as a spring mist, but no matter, the choice is never ours. It was not mine, but I’d choose you before a tribunal now, my sweet.

Would that I’d been so brave before.

My only peace is that I remain free to aid in your escape.

Mary, my cousin and constant companion, whom you met briefly, warns that a correspondence is far from prudent at this time, but her sources within the hospital reveal the most alarming conditions therein. I’ll not sit idle another moment while your fate lies in the hands of sadists who would break spirit or spine to keep you from loving another man.

If you still do…

Whatever your present mind, I’ll see you free from torture two days hence. Stay steadfast, my love. Ease their suspicion with lies and speak what is in your heart when you are once more in my arms. If your words crush me, it is all I deserve. If they echo the song my soul sings at the memory of your face, the whisper of your name, I swear my heart will take wing and together we will fly from this place.

You’ll know my sign when the bearer of this note makes contact again.

I will come for you, and together we’ll find freedom, no matter how far we must flee. With your hand in mine, I cannot tire.

And I’ll never again leave your side.

Always,

M

_________

Check out all the other flashers! Here’s the original hop call.


Writing Funks #amwriting

I’ve been a total slug lately. Here it is, the first full week of summer “vacation” (I insist on quoting that word because it’s a joke to moms everywhere–stay-at-home or otherwise, it’s not our vacation). I just dropped my youngest two at a 9-12 camp. My oldest is still asleep (I guess the slugginess runs in the family). I need to start cranking out the words. This is my chance, possibly my only chance today.

But, I am not all that inspired lately. Part of it is seeing which books top the MM romance charts on Amazon. They aren’t the sort of books I write, generally speaking. Shifters and BDSM, rehashed Cinderella stories, cops, sports, motorcycle gangs. I get to thinking that maybe I shouldn’t bother with what I’m working on. Maybe I’ll spend months on a book that hardly anyone will read. Not to whine. I freaking hate when authors do that on Facebook. No. I’m not whining. I’m second-guessing, and it makes for a shitty writing mindset.

I have to remind myself that I can’t write anything I’m not interested in. Not only would it be painful to complete, but it would probably suck. It wouldn’t be me.

So, no matter how disheartening it is to not be burning up any charts with my books, I’m not going to try to come up with an alpha-mating-50-shades-of-tiger idea. I’m not going to stare at my current WIP and think I’m just wasting my fucking time.

I’m going to make a goddamn pot of coffee and finish this bitch because I love these characters, and really, their fictitious shit just hit the fan, so what the hell am I waiting for?

Here’s an unedited snippet from Balancing Act: Shooting Stars 3.5 to help rev the engines. I embrace cheerleaders, so feel free to give me a K. Give me an I. Give me an M. You get the idea. ;-)

————-

“How many?” The hostess smiled, revealing crooked teeth. Her name tag said Leya.

“Two.” Kyrie held up his fingers.255b733f-0096-4ff1-a0d6-429b8125045d_zpsvqittldm

The girl checked a seating chart. “I should have something for you in five or ten minutes. Unless you’d like to sit at the bar.”

Greg’s attention was frozen in the direction of the bar to his right.

“I’m good with it.” Kyrie tugged on Greg’s arm.

“Great.” Leya slid two menus from a stack behind her.

“Umm. You know what?” Greg swallowed and then looked from Kyrie to the hostess. “Actually, we…I’d much rather…”

A waiter walked up. “I just need to wipe down nine, if you want to put them there.”

“Table then?” The hostess gave them wide eyes.

“Yes, please.”

“Just one minute.” The waiter hustled off.

“What’s up with you?” Kyrie folded his arms over his chest.

“Just didn’t want to have a football game blaring when we’re trying to have…”

A romantic dinner?

“Conversation.” Greg glanced at the hostess who was busy rubbing black grease pen off a laminated seating chart.

They were ushered in a moment later, and Kyrie began scarfing down more white bread, this time with butter, as they waited for their order. The waiter brought them both a beer. Greg sipped his and his shoulders relaxed.

“So, how did the photo shoot go?”

“Ugh. I’ll never make fun of models for taking the easy way out again. It’s actually pretty labor intensive.”

Greg gave him a skeptical look while his foot rubbed Kyrie’s calf under the table. “Poor baby. You need a massage when we get home?”

“Consequence free?”

“What?” Greg thunked his beer glass down on the table. “What’ve you done with the real Kyrie?”

“I’m just saying there’s no guarantee I’ll stay awake during a massage.”

“Then the massage is after.”

“After what?” Kyrie gave him a seductive grin. Beyond Greg’s shoulder he eyed a slim brunette woman walking toward their table with a smile on her face.

“After I’m done with you.” Greg waggled his eyebrows and nudged Kyrie’s foot again.beea33b9-d9ce-49ed-bcdf-4cf462fe763a_zpsupclpajx

“Greg?” The woman touched Greg’s shoulder and he jumped a good five inches while a wingtip nailed Kyrie in the shin. “Oh, my! I didn’t mean to startle you.” She touched her chest in sympathy, and then looked from Greg to Kyrie and back. “I’m so glad you decided to try this place out.”

Greg coughed, seemingly on air, and then gave a weak grin, his eyes watery. “So far so good, Mel. Thanks for the recommendation.”

She smiled wider. “Hi, I’m Melanie Church. Greg and I work at Warner and Hall together.” She waved at Kyrie.

“Nice to meet you.” Kyrie swallowed most of the bread in his mouth before answering, but it still came out stuffy. He reached for his beer.

“Kyrie’s my ex-wife’s brother. I told you about his modeling job.” Greg’s nod was overenthusiastic as if all that action would draw attention away from what he’d just said.

Ex-wife’s brother? Why don’t you rip a huge fart and really throw her off the scent, Greg?

“Yes. How exciting.” Melanie didn’t seem to notice Greg’s odd behavior. Kyrie couldn’t help but glare at him. “Would it be out of line to ask for your autograph?” she added.

Kyrie turned his terse smile from Greg to his coworker. “Why not?”

She dug in her purse and pulled out a note pad.

“Well, aren’t you the Girl Scout?” Kyrie gave a hollow laugh and took the proffered paper and pen.

Greg’s grin looked like a snapshot, frozen and awkward.

Kyrie wrote: Mel—It’s been illuminating meeting you! Thanks much! Love, Greg’s ex-wife’s brother, Kyrie Li.

“Did I forget anything?” He held it up for Greg’s perusal, a saccharin smile on his face. Greg turned beet red. Kyrie slowly shook his head. “Don’t suppose so. Here you are.” He handed the pad back, grinding his teeth, just as the waiter arrived with their plates.

“Well, my husband’s pulling the car up, so I’d better go and let you two enjoy. See you tomorrow, Greg. So nice to meet you, Kyrie.” She slipped the paper and pen back in her bag, tossed the tail of her wayward scarf over her shoulder, and turned with a smile and wave.

“Her husband. How odd. I wonder whose brother he is?” Kyrie huffed and viciously stabbed his eggplant parmesan with a fork.

“Kyr.”

“Don’t Kyr me.”

“Don’t do this.”

“No. Why would I? I’ve sat and watched you pretend I’m your gay friend for the past year.” He slapped both hands on the white tablecloth and gave Greg a flip grin. “Why should anything change now, huh?”

“Stop.” Greg glanced around. “Can’t we just…” He tugged in a breath and then at his tie. “Let’s talk about it later, huh?”

“’Course, babe. We’ll do it later. It’ll probably work then.” Kyrie hated himself for being such a bitch, but goddamn it, he was sick of the same shit over and over. Sick to death of feeling like a dirty secret, no matter how good Greg did dirty when they got home.

“I work with her,” Greg whispered vehemently.

Kyrie just stared, daring him to elaborate and dig himself further. “Yup. Only right you should be able to act accordingly in front of co-workers.” He plugged a forkful of eggplant into his mouth and nodded, cramming the food between a manikin sneer.

“What do you expect?” Greg asked, and then fiddled with his napkin when Kyrie’s piercing gaze narrowed on him.

“Not much, anymore.” He grinned coldly. “Make sure you don’t, either.”


Lead Me to You by Kate Lowell

My online buddy, Kate Lowell, has a new short out today! Here’s her shiny cover and blurb:
Lead Me To You low res
Blurb:
Who takes their claustrophobic boyfriend spelunking for his birthday?Henry can’t say no to Jaime. So, despite his misgivings, he lets Jaime lead him into the bowels of the earth for a surprise. In the intimate dark, he discovers that his love for Jaime is stronger than his fear of imminent death at the hands of Mother Nature.

And Jaime has an ulterior motive that will make all the hyperventilating worth it.

———-
Previous Publications:
     Bite Me Tender: Loose Id   http://www.loose-id.com/bite-me-tender.html
     Christmas Goes Analog: Loose Id   http://www.loose-id.com/christmas-goes-analog.html
     Forgotten Menagerie: Storm Moon Press   http://www.stormmoonpress.com/books/Forgotten-Menagerie.aspx
Bio:
Kate lives on the east coast of Canada, in an old farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. She has two horses, both of which have medical issues, and three cats, all of which have mental issues. She refuses to get a dog, because who knows what would be wrong with it?

Kate loves to read and write (and it’s a darn good thing, because she wouldn’t be much of an author if she didn’t, would she?) She also likes playing with computers and is considering going back to school to do a programming degree, just for giggles. Or the opportunity to take over the world. (Oh, who are we kidding? Think of all the work that would mean.) She also likes pictures of pretty men and keeps many of them on her computer. (The pictures, not the men.) She would dearly love a cabana boy to mow her lawn and maybe rub her shoulders after a long day of making men fall in love with each other, then cackling evilly and raining frustration and danger on them.


New Release: Banshee Seduction by Diane Saxon

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Blurb

Sweet, shy librarian Ginny has a problem. Whenever passion strikes, so do the weeping, wailing voices in her head. Being half banshee, she’s already run screaming from the underworld and her female relatives, believing love will find a way with patience and faith on planet Earth.

The trouble is, humans just aren’t man enough, and every time Ginny shows interest in a male, she makes him bleed. It’s going to take more than just a simple human being to get past Ginny’s defenses.

Matthew, “The Dane,” fullback for the New York Chameleons, knows the moment he meets the little fireball that she’s his mate. For two hundred years he and his dragon have waited for a female capable of setting their world on fire. Problem is, he doesn’t seem to be able to stop her from going up in flames long enough to prove he’s more than man enough for her screaming banshee.

Will Matt ever be able to convince Ginny she’s his mate? And will Ginny get Matt alone long enough to let him appreciate her pyrotechnics?

Buy Links

Amazon.comAmazon.co.uk  | All RomanceiTunesBarnes & Noble |

Kobo http://bit.ly/1M5z5ch

Excerpt

He had no idea if he was going to survive. She drove him higher than he’d ever been before, and he’d only managed to get his hands on her and kiss her. The sweet smell of her skin, the soft touch of her fingers—umm, well—the yank of her fingers. Desperation was evident in every move she made, every sound she emitted from her perfect, plump lips.

He cruised his mouth back up the length of her neck, enjoying the heavy weight of her perfumed breasts in his hands. He sucked in the silken skin over the racing pulse at the base of her throat. His tongue smoothed over the flesh he held in his mouth. He felt the groan reverberate through her throat and flicked his thumb over her taut nipple.

“Oh, oh.”

With a sharp jerk, she wrenched her fingers from his hair and grasped his shoulders.

Thrilled at her response and keen that at last he seemed to be going to get the chance to explore his mate, he repeated the move with his thumb, stunned she hadn’t yet exploded into a profusion of fireworks.

The firm grasp of her fingers tightened on his shoulders like steel clamps. She might be a little thing, but she sure was undeniably strong. He nipped her neck in retribution. She flung back her head, making him flinch at the loud thunk as her skull connected with the heavy leather-bound books behind her.

“I’m coming!” she shrieked, almost exploding his eardrums.

He reared his head back and stared at her. “Already?”

Bright puce flooded her face, her lips parted, and a small keening wail escaped her. Wow, she really was responsive. Her lush breasts heaved beneath his hands, and the thrum of her pulse escalated to join the rhythm of his own heartbeat.

“No,” she gasped. “No…the door.”

She gave him a firm shove. Off balance, he reeled backward into the opposite shelf. His hand caught a row of books and sent them careering to the floor as his lunchtime leisure break took off in the opposite direction, tugging her clothes into place and screeching at whoever hammered on the front door.

“I’m coming. I’m coming!”

Her voice impatient, the fast clip of her heels echoed against the stone floor as Matt glanced at the fallen books scattered all around. He hunkered down and picked one up.

The Elusive Orgasm—Have You Got Her Coming or Going?

Where to Find Diane Saxon

Author Website | Author Blog | Facebook  | Author Twitter | Goodreads Author |

Author Amazon Profile Page

About the Author

Diane Saxon lives in the Shropshire countryside with her tall, dark, handsome husband, two gorgeous daughters, a Dalmatian, one-eyed kitten, ginger cat, four chickens and a new black Labrador puppy called Beau, whose name has been borrowed for her hero in For Heaven’s Cakes.

After working for years in a demanding job, on-call and travelling great distances, Diane gave it all up when her husband said “follow that dream”.

Having been hidden all too long, her characters have burst forth demanding plot lines of their own and she’s found the more she lets them, the more they’re inclined to run wild.

 

Previous Books:

Loving Lydia -Atlantic Divide Book 1

Bad Girl Bill – Atlantic Divide Book 2

Finding Zoe – Atlantic Divide Book 3

Flight of Her Life

Flynn’s Kiss – Disarmed & Dangerous Book 1

Short Circuit Time

For Heaven’s Cakes


A Place to Call Their Own by Dean Pace-Frech #giveaway

Today I have Dean Pace-Frech visiting to celebrate the second edition publication of his book A Place to Call Their Own.

APTCTO

Blurb

Frank Greerson and Gregory Young have been discharged from the Army and are headed to their childhood homes. They both defied their parents in 1861 when they joined the Army. After battling southern rebels and preserving the Union of the United States of America, the two men set out to battle the Kansas Prairie and build a life together. Once they find their claim, they encounter common obstacles to life on the Kansas Prairie in 1866: Native Americans, tornadoes, wild animals, and weather.

When a prairie fire destroys their crops and takes their neighbor’s lives, Frank and Gregory are instructed to find their young son’s aunt. Faced with leaving a destroyed claim, the railroad coming through their land, and dwindling funds, Frank and Gregory must decide whether to leave the place they have worked hard to make their own or fulfill their friends’ dying wishes.

Buy Links:

JMS Books

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Excerpt:

You two together, or…” Mr. McAvoy asked with a puzzled look on his face.

Mrs. McAvoy raised an eyebrow, also curious about the situation.

Gregory gave Frank a nervous and mischievous look and answered, “Ah, yes, sir. We planned to each get a claim and build one house for now, help each other out.”

The answer seemed to satisfy both Mr. and Mrs. McAvoy. “That sounds like a good idea. It’d be nice to have a few neighbors around to help with things once in a while. And what I wouldn’t give to have had just one other man to help me with some of the house building and stable. You stay around here, and you’ll need a stable. Wolves and coyotes will get your livestock if you don’t.”

“How did you protect yourself before? This stuff doesn’t get built in a day.” Gregory asked.

“It takes ’em a while to figure out you’re here. And of course, it’s worse in the winter than this time of year. They haven’t been quite so bad the last few weeks, have they?” he directed to his wife.

“No, they calmed down. Hopefully they’ve been preying on the deer that are eating my potato plants.” answered Mrs. McAvoy. “You two want to stay for supper? I’ve got a big pot of rabbit stew on the stove.”

“It’ll be good, I promise. She’s done great cooking whatever I can find for us,” Mr. McAvoy added.

Gregory ignored the invitation. “How’s the hunting around here? You do good during the winter months?”

“Yeah, in the fall it’s the best—the animals are all fat and sassy from the summer. You can tell the bucks from the does, and you don’t have to worry about orphaning a young deer like you do now. There are plenty of rabbits and prairie chickens right now. You can find squirrels…”

“And the meadowlarks do fine, too, in a pinch,” piped in Mrs. McAvoy. “Now, what about supper?”

“We appreciate the offer, ma’am,” Frank spoke up. “But we’re just trying to find us our claims and be done with traveling. We’ve been traveling nearly six weeks now. It has been that long since we had a decent home-cooked meal, but we need to keep moving on today.”

They both remembered the last time they joined anyone for dinner. The McAvoys seemed harmless, but Frank and Gregory were both a bit shy about joining anyone else at this point.

“Yeah, we’re getting close to where we want to settle,” Gregory added. “We appreciate the offer and all, but we just want to keep moving.”

Mrs. McAvoy smiled, turned, and ran into the house with her load of laundry. Neither Frank nor Gregory knew if she was hurt because they declined the supper invitation or just needed to get back to her household chores.

“We understand that. Took us nearly six months to get here from New York, where we come from. We stayed with some relatives along the way, but the missus did appreciate it when we finally stopped here.”

“Well, we appreciate your hospitality and all your help. We should probably get going,” Frank said, glancing at Gregory.

“If you happen to end up around here, don’t be strangers. Just let us know where you’re at,” Mr. McAvoy replied.

“It’s a deal, sir,” Frank said and extended his hand.

Mr. McAvoy walked over and took it. After they were done, McAvoy stepped away from the wagon.

Gregory slapped the reins and yelled “giddyap,” and the horses sprang forward.

A frantic Mrs. McAvoy yelled from inside the house, “Wait!”

Frank grabbed Gregory’s arm to stop him. Gregory pulled back on the reins.

Mrs. McAvoy came out of the cabin with a small basket covered with flour sack cloth.

“This here isn’t much, but maybe it will allow you to rest once you stop for the night. I put two crocks of my stew in there and part of the bread I baked for our supper tonight. I don’t know why I did it, but something told me to make extra bread today.”

“We’re mighty obliged, ma’am. This will help. Now we don’t have to worry about hunting anything for our dinner. We’ll just warm this by the fire and be ready to go,” Gregory spoke up.

“Yes, ma’am. We are getting a bit worn out by this trip,” Frank said. He grinned at Gregory and said, “Hopefully, we’ll be finding our home soon.”

Both men tipped their hats once more, and Gregory got the horses going again.

Dove and Daisy lumbered along for the rest of the afternoon and into the early evening. Before they realized it, the wagon climbed a gentle, gradual grade. The early evening sun blinded them as they reached the crest of the ridge. At the top, Frank looked over his shoulder where the wagon had just been. There he saw the trail left by the wagon and horses in the prairie grass. To the west, a line of trees indicated a creek, river, or some sort of waterway. The sun drenched the entire landscape in its golden hue. He looked at Gregory, and they both knew this was their new home. They had arrived on the homestead.

“Welcome home, Frankie!” Gregory yelled at the top of his lungs.

————-

Giveaway:

In celebration of the release of A Place to Call Their Own, Dean is giving away three copies of his novel, Disappear With Me.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

With inspiration from historical tourism sites, the love of reading, and a desire to write a novel, Dean started crafting his debut novel, A Place to Call Their Own, in 2008. After four years of writing and polishing the manuscript, it was accepted and originallypublished 2013. His second novel, Disappear With Me, set in Edwardian England was published later that same year. Both novels were re-released in May 2015.

Dean lives in Kansas City, Missouri with his husband, Thomas (legally as of February 14,2015), and our two cats. They are involved in their church and enjoy watching movies, outdoor activities in the warmer weather and spending time together with friends and family. In addition to writing, Dean’s hobbies include reading and patio gardening.

Dean is currently working a standalone title, Need Your Love, set in 1966, and The Higher Law, a continuation of the story of Frank and Gregory’s family set in the 1930s.

Connect with Dean Pace-Frech

Email deanfrech@aol.com

Blog: Dean’s Web Site

Facebook: Dean Pace-Frech, Author page or send a friend request Dean Pace-Frech.

Twitter: @deanpacefrech

Google+: +deanpacefrech

Goodreads: Dean Pace-Frech

Pinterest: Dean Pace-Frech


Throwback Wednesday

That’s a thing, right? ;-)

The lovely Lisabet Sarai has a blog post up today with snippets from a few Coming Together: In Vein stories. She was kind enough to include an excerpt from my contribution, My Soul To Take.

Coming in Vein

For anyone who doesn’t know, or perhaps forgot, Coming Together: In Vein is a collection of scorching vampire erotica of all pairings. One-hundred percent of proceeds goes to Doctors without Borders, which provides care across the globe. From devastated Nepal, to war-torn Afghanistan, to African countries in dire need of the most basic of healthcare, DWB does it all. Their staff risk their lives every day to aid the less fortunate, and they deserve all the help they can get. What easier way to lend a hand than by purchasing a compilation of sexy paranormal stories? Everyone wins.

Check out Lisabet’s post here & hopefully be inspired to assist Coming Together in “Doing good while being bad.”


Mechanically Inclined Book Blast

Today I have critique group friend and now fellow Liquid Silver author, Jena Wade, visiting with a taste of her latest release, Mechanically InclinedSo exciting! This looks seriously sexy, too. :)

Blurb:

Cal Foster has sworn off men. He is never going to date anyone again, ever. But as the saying goes, never say never, because Josh Gibson isn’t just anyone. Jena Wade brings you all the passion you could hope for in her hot, new contemporary romance, Mechanically Inclined.mechanicallyinclined

Excerpt:

Josh rolled up the sleeves on his teal dress shirt and flipped his tie over his shoulder. He took a deep breath. This needed to go fast if he was going to show up on time. Was there a certain way to take the bolts off? He couldn’t remember. It’d been a long time since he’d actually had to do this. It looked easy enough.

Ten minutes later, Josh had four of the five lug nuts off. The last one was causing him trouble. He placed the tire iron on the bolt and pulled with as much strength as he had left in him. It didn’t budge.

“Need some help with that?”

“Christ!” Josh let go of the iron and landed on his butt in the dirt. “Holy hell, man. Where’d you come from?” Maybe it was because Josh was on his back, but the guy looked huge. He loomed over him. A full dark beard covered his face, and his white button-down shirt stretched tight across his wide chest and muscular arms.

Did he hit his head when he fell? His dream man stood before him. Josh had been looking for the perfect man all his life. What were the odds that Mr. Right would show up on a country road in the middle of a cornfield?

————————-

Find Mechanically inclined at Liquid Silver Books, Amazon, All Romance, and B&N.

Add it to your Goodreads here.

 

 


Sticking It Just Got Better

Well, I finally got it together! My revised and expanded version of Sticking It is up on Amazon and All Romance. For anyone who doesn’t know, I wrote the original for the Goodreads Love Has No Boundaries event two years ago. A number of reviewers mentioned wanting more. I’m don’t mind a good Happy For Now ending, but I guess a lot of readers want the neat and tidy bow. Some people specifically said they wanted to see Dane go to the Olympics…

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So, I did it. Sticking It now has 50% more–more sweaty gymnastics, more sweaty guy nookie, more of that neat and tidy, bow-tied Happily Ever After people love. It’s also more edited and more professionally covered.

Muscular athletic sportsman in training. Winner.

You wanted more? You got it! It’s the total package, baby (drools on computer contemplating the package above. Would you get a load of the come gutters on that guy?).

And here’s a little excerpt from everyone’s favorite drive-through jerk-off scene just for fun:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, I guess we should head back. I still have to copy a website tonight.”

Dane glanced at his watch. “Yeah. I might even have time for a quick jerk-off before bed.” Why the fuck did I just say that? “Better than counting sheep,” he added, not sure if that made it worse or better. He grabbed his own soda to give his mouth something to do other than talk.

“Feel free to get going on that. The drive-through lady gave us more than enough napkins.” Adam tossed him a fistful of M-stamped paper products with a laugh.

Dane sputtered on soda. “Yeah, right.” His voice was strained by the introduction of cola to his lungs and the surge of blood to his dick.

“What? It’s not like anyone’s gonna see.” Adam shrugged, nonchalant almost. But not quite. His tongue darted out to flick nervously over his lips. Dane’s cock flexed in his pants, eager to accept the challenge.

“Yeah, sure. Like you’d give yourself a low five right here and now.”

“Why not?” Adam appeared to wink, but it was dark and street lamps flashed off his glasses. “I’ll race you. Whoever gets off first wins.”

Oh my God. Keep talking like that and I’ll finish before I get it out all the way.

Dane positioned his cup in the drink holder and clapped his hands together, rubbing them briskly. He forced a cocky grin he didn’t feel. “Game on.”

Adam stared a moment, as if surprised by Dane’s response, but a slow smile twisted his lips up. He dropped his drink and snatched a couple of napkins off Dane’s lap.

Dane willed his hips not to press toward that reaching hand. With a swallow, he pulled at his fly, and realized he was coming out at least half hard and was going to give himself away. But he was already skating trembling fingers over his bulge, pulling his sac up as he lifted his ass off the seat to tug his jeans down enough to free his dick. It was too late to pretend he wasn’t into this.

Adam watched, both hands frozen over his own junk for a moment.

“Hey, Quickdraw, you better get going or you won’t stand a chance.” Dane spit in his palm and rubbed the homemade lube over his cockhead while his other fist cuffed the base. Fuck it. Let him see me hard. It was his idea, anyway.

Adam took a deep breath and wrestled his dick from the gap in his boxers. It was far from soft, and Dane’s shoulders dropped with relief. He wanted to tear his attention away instead of practically drooling at the sight of that six-inches-and-counting. But he couldn’t. Adam was on the thicker side of average, too. He owned a fine piece of pale, cut cock with a pink head that made Dane’s own prick fill to rock-hard. Adam rubbed thumb and forefinger over the tip, smearing a glistening bead over smooth skin. Hot damn. If Satan appeared with the paperwork, Dane would sell his soul to stick his tongue in that slit and know Adam’s taste.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Kimber


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