PROMO: Brotherhood of Ormarr, Book Two: Zale

Promo

ZaleMichelle Frost has a new MM paranormal dragon rider book out, book two of the four-part Brotherhood of Ormarr series: Zale.

Davis~

It was just another job—at least it was supposed to be—but snaring the feisty blue dragon I’d been contracted to collect and her rider in my trap changed everything. Hunting dragons was my job, and I was damn good at it. I’d never missed a target. Never failed to make a delivery. So why was every step toward turning over my bounty suddenly a struggle? No quarry had ever managed to get under my skin, but something in Zale’s haunting blue eyes called to me like nothing ever had before.

Zale~

When Itsaso and I were kidnapped, we fought like hell but found ourselves at the dragon hunter’s mercy. He locked my dragon away, leaving me to face captivity alone. Now, all I have to rely on is the training that’s been drilled into me every day for as long as I can remember and biding my time, waiting for Davis to make a mistake. Or my brother’s to find and rescue us. But something happened the first time I truly looked in Davis’s eyes, dark pools as deep and enchanting as the sea, and I realized I was in so much more danger than I thought. How could a ruthless dragon hunter be my perfect mate?

About the Series:

SERIES Brotherhood of OrmarrBeing a dragon rider for the Brotherhood of Ormarr is filled with adventure, but danger can lurk behind every corner with the Order of Amsel set out to destroy the riders. Azaran, Zale, Eeli, and Malachite have spent their whole lives training, but will it be enough?

The brothers lost their parents years ago to assassins, but they’ve never been able to figure out who was behind the attack. Follow the journey of these dragon riders, along with their faithful dragons, as they find their mates and discover clues that will lead to the final epic showdown.

The Brotherhood of Ormarr series consists of four books, each with its own HEA. While each book focuses on a different couple, the overall story arc continues into the next installment. For maximum enjoyment, we suggest reading in order. This is a m/m romance series, and is recommended for adults 18 years and older.

Get It On Amazon

Book One – Azaran, by Jacki James


Giveaway

Michelle is giving away a $10 Amazon gift card with this tour – for a chance to win, enter via Rafflecopter:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d4766/?


Excerpt

MEME - ZaleI moved down the beach, keeping my breathing even and my pace slow. Just as I reached the edge of the shadows I’d been lurking in, a joyful chuckle burst from Zale. The sound planted like a fist in my chest, gripping at my heart, and making my steps falter. What the fuck. From this vantage, I could only see his profile as he looked down at his dragon, love written into every line of his face. Emotions long since buried stirred inside me and a jealousy unlike anything I’d ever known soured my stomach. I missed that, that simple existence between two beings, that companionship, but even more confusing was that it wasn’t as if I wanted to push Zale out of the way and claim the dragon for myself… no, I wanted to sink down on the other side of him and wrap my arm around his shoulders. I wanted to be part of the bond they obviously already shared, and that didn’t make any fucking sense at all.

“D? You alright, man?” Nathair’s quiet voice in my earpiece ripped me out of my strange thoughts and back to the task at hand. I had a job to do and that was all that mattered.

With a deep breath, I kept walking, being sure to make enough noise to alert them they were no longer alone. I’d thought for a moment earlier that the dragon had sensed me with the way it seemed to stare into the darkness that was my shroud, directly at the place I’d been hiding, but it had gone back to lounging without so much of a flick of its tail. After just a moment, what I’d been waiting for happened as the air around the small beast shimmered until there was nothing but divots in the sand where it had previously been, and Zale climbed to his feet.

Stepping out of the shadows, I watched his eyes widen as he took me in. I wasn’t a small man—over six feet of hard fought muscle and scars. He turned fully toward me, the moon’s light revealing his face, and it was my own gasp that surprised me.

He was beautiful.

With his blond hair pulled back in a messy bun, all the soft angles of his face and the long lines of his neck were exposed. Creamy skin covered a lean, compactly muscled body, and I was having trouble pulling my eyes back up from the graceful arch of his bare feet in the sand.

“Are you lost?” he asked. His tone was friendly, but the suspicion was there.

“No,” I said with a shake of my head, more to get my thoughts back in order than anything else. “I heard there were some great tide pools on this beach.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I was reminded of my true purpose there, and the conviction of it rose in my breast. Reports said the man Zale had taken had come to town to look at the pools. Kidnapped and killed by this very man and the dragon resting in the breathtaking tattoo swirling around his left forearm as he’d attempted to shield a young boy. It was their justice I’d come to see done.

The chilling images of the fight that had led to two deaths flashed in my mind. Zale astride his blue beast of a dragon, leading a troop of dark wraiths, and then sending blue fire to end the life of an innocent man and the boy he’d been trying to protect. The whole nasty scene had been caught in our intelligence net from one of the satellites we regularly hacked into. With so few resources and the Brotherhood making moves all over the world, we were duty bound to do what we could, and I was there to bring Zale back to my Clan to face judgement, relieve him of the dragon he obviously didn’t deserve, and attempt to learn the identity of the person within the Brotherhood controlling the wraiths.

“Oh, well, I hope you enjoy them, then.” He walked toward the cliff, giving me a wide berth.

“Thanks.” I waited until he passed me, then spun, shooting across the sand to tackle him to the ground. His chest hit the sand with a thump, but he didn’t waste a second in trying to throw me off. Brute force wasn’t on his side, and I had it in spades, but as he shifted his hips, and slithered out of my grip, I knew exactly what Nathair had meant by wily. He threw an elbow, catching me in the cheek. My head snapped to the side and the taste of blood exploded in my mouth. I came up on my knees, letting him flip himself over only to grab his left arm and roll, shoulder first, until I was on my back perpendicular to him with his arm caught between my legs in an arm bar. I pressed on his throat with my calf, holding him down and cutting off his air as he struggled to break my hold. In a swift move, I lifted my leg off his throat and brought it down hard on his face. He grunted with the impact and I heard a crunch. He stilled for just a moment, stunned, but it was all I needed. I grabbed the sleeve out of my pocket and worked it over his hand. That was all it took and the magic worked into the woven material took over. It slithered up his arm, covering the dragon tattoo completely and binding itself to his skin, severing the connection to his dragon and keeping it trapped in its tattoo form.

As soon as Zale realized what I was doing, he thrashed wildly. “What did you do?” he screamed at me, wrenching himself from my hold and clamoring to his feet. I jumped to my feet as well, slinging sand and landing in a fighting stance. Bright red streaks ran down his mouth and chin from where I’d most likely broken his nose, but it was forgotten in his panic. “Saso!” He tore at the sleeve, trying without success to remove the material. Glittering, furious eyes lifted to me, and he charged. I pulled the taser gun from my back and fired, burying the prongs in his heaving chest and dropping him spasming to the sand.


Author Bio

Stories have always been Michelle Frost’s escape. Even as a kid, she can remember writing stories featuring her favorite cartoon characters. Now, her characters are a little more grown up, as are the stories she likes to tell. A self-proclaimed coffee addict and a bit of an introvert, she can most likely be found at any given time, on any given day with her hands on a keyboard or her nose in a book.

Author Website: https://www.michellefrostwrites.com/

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

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

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17778116.Michelle_Frost

Author Amazon: http://author.to/MichelleFrost

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PROMO: Brotherhood of Ormarr, Book One: Azaran

Promo

AzaranJacki James has a new MM paranormal dragon rider book out, book one of the four-part Brotherhood of Ormarr series: Azaran.

Azaran~

I was born a dragon rider. A member of the Brotherhood of Ormarr, son of Cadmar, and the eldest of four sons. I was raised to defend the innocent and protect the secret of the dragons, but when I was eighteen, my parents were brutally murdered and the training and care of my brothers fell to me. My entire adult life has been spent helping my brothers grow into the strong, brave dragon riders they were born to be. Now that the youngest of my brothers is close to adulthood, the last thing I need is someone else to worry about—someone else to be responsible for. If only the handsome doctor fate had chosen for my mate wasn’t so perfect for me.

Toby~

AlI I ever wanted was to help people, that’s why I became a doctor, but I quickly learned that modern medicine was more about the all-mighty dollar and less about saving lives. It wasn’t long before I was doubting my life choices. A vacation to the ocean was supposed to leave me refreshed and ready to get back to work, but instead, I found myself pulled into a world I never knew existed. A world where dragons are real, men fight like medieval warriors, and my soulmate has his very own bat cave. Azaran thinks the last thing he needs is a mate to worry about. Good thing I don’t need anyone to take care of me. My sexy dragon rider, on the other hand, needs someone to take care of him, and I think I’m just the man to do it.

Azaran is the first book in The Brotherhood of Ormarr series. While each book focuses on a different couple, the overall story arc continues in the next installment. For maximum enjoyment, we suggest reading in order. Azaran is a m/m romance, and is recommended for adults 18 years and older.

About the Series:

SERIES Brotherhood of OrmarrBeing a dragon rider for the Brotherhood of Ormarr is filled with adventure, but danger can lurk behind every corner with the Order of Amsel set out to destroy the riders. Azaran, Zale, Eeli, and Malachite have spent their whole lives training, but will it be enough?

The brothers lost their parents years ago to assassins, but they’ve never been able to figure out who was behind the attack. Follow the journey of these dragon riders, along with their faithful dragons, as they find their mates and discover clues that will lead to the final epic showdown.

The Brotherhood of Ormarr series consists of four books, each with its own HEA. While each book focuses on a different couple, the overall story arc continues into the next installment. For maximum enjoyment, we suggest reading in order. This is a m/m romance series, and is recommended for adults 18 years and older.

Get It On Amazon


Giveaway

Jacki is giving away a $10 Amazon gift card with this tour. Enter via Rafflecopter:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d4764/?


Excerpt

MEME AzaranMalachite flew up next to me and we prepared to fight. Zale swooped down and Itsaso took Dr. Gibbs and his tube in his claws, and they cut to the left and headed for shore.

“What the hell are they doing here?” Malachite asked.

“I have no idea, but I’m getting pretty freaking tired of them knowing where we are all the blasted time.”

“This is the third time this month,” he said. “There’s no way that’s a coincidence.”

“Nope, not a chance. I think Zale’s far enough away. You ready?”

“Yep, let’s go.” We took off up into the sky and farther out to sea, away from where Zale had taken the doctor. I looked back to make sure they all followed us, and they did. So the doctor didn’t seem to be the target. That meant either one of us was or The Order of Amsel were fucking with us. We led them on a merry chase through the clouds. I noticed a small island ahead, and the timing was perfect because I’d had enough.

“Time to get answers,” I told Malachite and sent a message to Sindri to land on the beach.

We climbed off our dragons and watched as the four wraiths soared above as if they couldn’t decide if they wanted to land or not.

“If they’re smart, they’ll keep going,” Malachite said.

“Yeah, but nobody ever accused The Order of being smart,” I said as I watched them descend. Wraiths were nasty looking creatures. They were dragons, but they weren’t. Their magick had been corrupted and turned dark. I had always thought they most closely resembled demons, all black and surrounded by smoke. The men landed on the beach and hopped off their wraiths, assuming a fighting stance. I shook my head and sighed. Malachite and I shared a look and prepared to fight.

“I’ll take the two on the left,” Malachite said. “And then if you need help, I’ll take one of yours.”

I laughed because he probably would. Where most people messed up when challenging Malachite was they assumed his size was his biggest advantage. They would be wrong. He was fast, and he was precise.

“Guys. I’m not really in the mood to do this today. How about if you just tell me what I want to know, and we skip the part where we kick your sorry asses?” I said.

“Kick our asses?” one of the men asked in disbelief. “There are four of us and only two of you.”

“Yeah.” I shook my head and sighed. “You should’ve brought more guys.”


Author Bio

AVATAR Jacki JamesJacki James has been saying she was going to write a book since she was sixteen and wrote fanfiction (before fanfiction had a name) about her favorite Rockstar. She is a believer in love of all kinds but MM romance is her favorite by far. She has a romantic heart and a dirty mind and likes to write stories that let both shine.

When she isn’t writing she is either creating beautiful pieces of glass art or reading. She is an animal lover and dreams of having a small hobby farm where she can raise goats, chickens and organic veggies. In the meantime, she lives in town with her two cats, awesome husband, and two college-aged kids.

Author Website: www.jackijames.com

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

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/Jacki-James-2039382832995815/

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

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

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PROMO: Mage on the Hill

Promo

The Mage on the Hill - Angel MartinezAngel Martinez has a new MM fantasy book out: The Mage on the Hill.

Toby’s wild magic is killing him. The mage guilds have given up on him, and it’s only a matter of time before he dies in a spectacular, catastrophic bang. His only hope is an exiled wizard who lives in seclusion—and is rumored to have lost his mind.

The years alone on his hilltop estate have not been good for Darius Valstad. After the magical accident that disfigured him and nearly drowned Pittsburgh, he drifts through his days, a wraith trapped in memories and depression. Until a stricken young man collapses on his driveway, one who claims Darius is his last chance.

<p>For the first time in fifteen years, Darius must make a choice—leave this wild mage to his fate or take him in and try to teach him, which may kill them both. The old Darius, brash and commanding, wouldn’t have hesitated. Darius the exile isn’t sure he can find the energy to try.

Publisher | Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CAN | iBooks | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | QueeRomance Ink | Goodreads 


Giveaway

Angel is giving away a $25 Dreamspinner gift card with this tour. For a chance to win, enter via Rafflecopter:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Excerpt

Mage on the Hill - Angel MartinezIt’s killing him. We have to end this.

Too cruel to force him to keep struggling.

I don’t understand. He should be finding a minor channel at least. Something. He shouldn’t be at this level of physical distress and still be able to throw so much.

We can’t condone pushing on. Dangerous for him and for everyone in a five-mile radius. We’ll have another Darius situation on our hands.

You’ll tell him?

As soon as he’s able to hear it, yes.

Toby drifted from gray misery to scarlet agony, the voices floating to him in fits and starts. His instructors, the director—they were talking about him and they sounded done with him, just like the previous six guilds that had tossed him to the curb. Wild magic. Unplaceable on the web of Arcana. Unsustainable and eventually deadly. The only remaining bets anyone could make now were how many people he took with him when he went out with a catastrophic bang.

Hands lifted him. The familiar sensations of stretcher and rolling followed him down into the dark.

***

“What’s this?” Toby peered at the papers on the rolling tray, not quite up to focusing through his pounding headache.

The director pulled a chair close and cleared his throat uncomfortably. “We discussed that this might be a possibility someday, Tobias.”

“We’ve talked about a bunch of stuff.”

Director Whittaker let out a sharp sigh.

“Not saying it to be a smartass, sir. I can’t get my eyes to read this just yet.” Toby shifted on the infirmary bed. His fifth stay in this wing of the guildhall and the mattresses hadn’t managed to grow any more comfortable. “Couple hours I should be able to.”

“Ah. My apologies.” The director returned to a concerned parental pose, hands clasped between his knees as he leaned forward. “These are your separation papers from the Montchanin Guildhall.”

Toby swallowed hard. “You’re giving up on me? Already?”

“I’m so sorry, Tobias.” Director Whittaker patted his arm. “The Kovar method is nearly infallible—”

“Nearly. You said nearly.” Despite his pounding head, Toby sat up, hanging on to the director’s hand as hard as he could. “Please don’t do this. You said you’d help me.”

“We said we would do the best we could. Wild magic…. It’s unusual, certainly, but cases of unplaceable wild magic like yours aren’t unheard of. We should have seen some sign of channeling by now. Some directed trickle that would have let us help you find your place in the web.”

Toby let go to fall back against the pillows, hurting, nauseated, and dizzy. His uncontrolled magical explosions, each one harder on him than the time before, had only been getting more volatile and unpredictable. “I don’t have anywhere else to go. Can’t I stay here? Until, well, until….”

“It’s too dangerous for the other students. For the staff and other guild members.” Director Whittaker took his hand again. “Tobias, you blew a hole in the guidance room’s wall today.”

Ten feet of weapons-grade Kevlar and steel—that shouldn’t have been possible. Holy crap. “Did I hurt anyone?”

“Not today. But I can’t risk lives any further. It’s reached that point where we’ve tried everything we could. When you feel up to it, read the packet. There are several wonderful hospice options nearby. Beautiful places where you’ll be cared for and made comfortable. The guild will take care of you and cover any expenses.”

Drugged to the eyeballs so I won’t do any more damage. Allowed to starve to death in the nicest possible surroundings. Toby closed his eyes, his exhausted brain banging up against walls of possibility, trying to find him a way out. All this time he’d been sure one of the guilds would find a way. They were the experts. Now? Now he was terrified. The experts were telling him he needed to accept his impending death. No, no, no, fuck that. “Sir, who’s Darius?”

“Ah, you heard that, did you?” The director sat back and pulled out a microfiber cloth to give his glasses a meticulous cleaning before he went on. “Darius Valstad caused one of the greatest magical disasters in recent memory. He nearly destroyed Pittsburgh. He pulled magic too far from his channelings, the result much like a wild magic accident. The catastrophe was narrowly averted.”

“Oh. That sounds about as bad as it gets. What happened to him?”

“He nearly died. His guild status was revoked, his teaching of any more students forbidden.”

Toby turned that over a few times, his brain fumbling and dropping concepts along the way. “So, but he’s still alive?”

“As far as I know. He lives in isolation, oh, not far from here, with the promise that he will no longer attempt anything beyond personal magic.”

“But he was once like me? And he lived?” Toby knew it was conclusion jumping, but he was desperate enough to reach for anything.

The director’s sigh was slower this time, more melancholy. “Tobias, he found his channels long ago, both his major and minor Arcana. Yes, he lives because as long as he respects the web, his magic won’t tear him apart. He had some early success with teaching unplaceables, but Pittsburgh was the ultimate result of his unorthodox methods.”

“Yes, sir. Of course.”

Director Whittaker rose with one last pat to Toby’s shoulder. “Get some rest. We’ll talk again in the morning. Please keep in mind we’re not simply turning you out onto the street. We want to be certain you’re looked after properly.”

Toby nodded, no longer trusting his voice. He didn’t turn his head to watch the director leave, staring at the white ceiling tiles instead. Ugly ceiling tiles. Places where you have to lie in bed like hospitals and infirmaries should have nice ceilings with meadows and bunnies painted on them. I don’t want to die. Oh gods… I don’t want to die.


Author Bio

Angel MartinezThe unlikely black sheep of an ivory tower intellectual family, Angel Martinez has managed to make her way through life reasonably unscathed. Despite a wildly misspent youth, she snagged a degree in English Lit, married once and did it right the first time, gave birth to one amazing son, and realized at some point that she could get paid for writing.

Published since 2006, Angel’s cynical heart cloaks a desperate romantic. You’ll find drama and humor given equal weight in her writing and don’t expect sad endings. Life is sad enough.

She currently lives in Delaware in a drinking town with a college problem and writes Science Fiction and Fantasy centered around gay heroes.

Author Website: https://angelmartinezauthor.weebly.com/

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/amartinez2

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

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

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1010469.Angel_Martinez

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/angel-martinez/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Angel-Martinez/e/B001KHMFTG

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One Year.

personal

One year ago today, I almost died. I had a big, fancy post all ready to share, complete with pictures, but I accidentaly deleted it through a series of unfortunate events.

Whatever. I’ll take that as the universe saying I don’t need to bore anyone by talking about the crap I went through. It wasn’t pretty, it was downright disgusting, and I survived. I will point out that the problem I lived with for six years is easily fixed by surgery, but I’m one of those people that falls in the “hole” in Obamacare. I make too much money to get a really good subsidy, not enough to afford a three to four hundred dollar a month payment on an insurance plan with a ridiculously high deductible. ($7500-8000, if you’re curious.) So I couldn’t afford the surgery.

Instead, I’ll bore you with something else. Normal people that have near-death experiences report things like bright lights, tunnels, beloved presences, encounters with divinity. I didn’t get any of that. Although I’ll admit I got ferociously dizzy, my vision got dim, and my brain got really stupid.

What did happen is I got pissed off. And I mean really, truly, deeply pissed off. This happened right about the time I saw the emergency room staff moving quickly, and multiply from one to about half a dozen, and it sunk in that they thought I was actually dying right there in front of them.

Weird feeling, by the way.

And while the ER staff was moving quickly, at a speed you never want to see in real life, I was feeling apologetic for troubling them when I didn’t feel half as shitty as I did back in January.

That was when I got pissed.

There I was, literally dying, and I’d been working. Just like always. That’s most of what I do with my life, after all. Work, work, work. And I felt significantly better that day than I did back in January. I was able to take a couple days off back then, but my boss insisted I had to come in to groom some regular customers that no one else could do, so I tried. Even though I knew I wasn’t safe to drive, I drove. And I worked. And I groomed two dogs.

But then I called my boss and told her I don’t care how bad she needs me working, I can’t do this and have to go home. Now, after the fact, I know why I was so dizzy I couldn’t stand or even see straight. The doctors called it acute anemia, said that I could have died.

And a couple weeks later, I was working with blood clots in my leg and my lungs, and more acute anemia. It was so bad I could feel my heart beating super-fast and erratic. I had to keep taking breaks to let the poor thing calm down before it actually exploded. When I finally got to the doctor, she said I could drop dead at any moment.

And I kept working, and working, and working.

Have you figured out why I got pissed yet? It’s because somewhere along the line, I kind of forgot that I swore I’d never work myself to death like my dad did. So I almost dropped dead, more times than I’ve mentioned here, at work. Doing exactly what I swore not to do.

At least I had the brains to call for help before my heart stopped because there wasn’t any blood left to pump. The doctor at the hospital told me I was almost there. The blood count I had was 5, she said hearts stop at around 4-4.5.

Screw that whole working myself to death thing. I’m pissed, and staying pissed, and using that anger and frustration to get my life sorted out so I can drop back to a more normal amount of work. It’ll take a couple years to clean up my situation so I can afford to stop this 50-60+ hour a week bullshit, but I’m going to do it. I will arrange my life so I can work a normal job, have a home of my own instead of a rental, and spend more time living. I am going to do things I enjoy, including getting out on the weekends to go hiking or find a horse to ride or whatever. I’ve done that a few times already, and it’s a vast improvement over working.

In short, I’m going to take the second chance I was given, and do something a hell of a lot better than work.

PROMO: Mucklucked

Promo

Mucklucked - Jams BrockJames Brock has a new MM romance book out: Mucklucked.

When fate sends Kodiak DePaul from his home in Alaska to a new world in a big city it is a move equal to going from Manhattan to Mars.

His wild success as a model is quickly followed by tragedy and heartbreak, sending the young Alaskan running back to his home in the north to hide and heal. Intrusion in his now notable life continues in the forty-ninth state, sending Kodiak deeper into the bush to his grandfather’s homestead in one of the most remote parts of the state.

But soon even that place of solitude and refuge loses sanctuary status.

Mucklucked, an adventure with loss and love set against the beauty and danger of the Alaskan wilderness.

Amazon eBook | Amazon Paperback | iBooks | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Smashwords 


Giveaway

James is giving away a $50 Amazon gift certificate with this post – enter via Rafflecopter:

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Excerpt

Mucklucked meme“Look!” Kodiak, exclaimed, his voice suddenly trembling with excitement.

Rising Hunter looked out of the window, Kodiak brushing by him. The homesteader grabbed his outer coat, sliding his arms into it as he re crossed the room, throwing the cabin door open.

“Hey!” It took forever for me to get this place warm! Now you are trying to heat up the great outdoors!” Hunter bellowed

“Just look.” Kodiak said without looking back into the cabin.

“I don’t know what you are doing,” Hunter said, teeth clenched as he buttoned his shirt all the way up, grabbing his own coat and zipping it up while pulling his gloves on over his fingers, “but I’m freezing again.”

Stepping out of the cabin door he closed it and looked up, gasping in awe.

The sky was ablaze with color; emerald green, azure blue shot with ribbons of pale yellow moving in slow, lazy streaks like a symphony across the vast sky.

“This. This is why I’m here.” Kodiak whispered as the Aurora Borealis played lazily above them, vibrant colors stretching as far as their eyes could see, dotted from behind with glistening white stars. That far north in the crystal-clear skies the colors were deep and crisp as they moved in long, easy waves under the stars, the galaxy looking like a black velvet backdrop.

The two young men stood silently side by side, huffing plumes of the cold air out as they breathed, transfixed by the curving colors moving slowly around night sky.

“It’s like a Georgia O’Keefe painting,” Hunter whispered, his right arm raising he traced a finger to outline a ribbon of green rimmed with electric yellow. “I’ve seen a lot of night sky shows but never anything like this.”

“O’Keefe used almost these exact colors. She painted music just like Picasso painted light in the air. It’s ethereal.” Kodiak whispered in return, as if a raised voice might break the spell.

Shoulder to shoulder the pair stood quietly for some time watching the colors move languidly across the sky, the cold night air seeming to crackle around them. They likely would have remained transfixed had Hunter not suddenly shuddered violently.

Kodiak’s left arm rose, involuntarily he wrapped his fingers around Hunter’s thick bicep, pulling him in close against his body as the trespasser again shuddered in the cold.

Kodiak had made the move to pull Hunter in against him involuntarily. He was cold as well but he was not ready to go back into the cabin.

“Aquarius is there, Pegasus over there,” Kodiak said in a low voice as he pointed out the constellations visible at that time of year. “Cancer and Orion are right over there,” the homesteader used his index finger as a pointer to trace the stars with his finger.

Reaching up with his own hand Hunter pointed at the big dipper which was standing out clearly, with the North star looking big and bright as the moon.

Moving a hand over to Kodiak, Hunter reached over and traced a finger over the area of Kodiak’s jacket where the constellation was tattooed on his chest then turned his face up toward the handsome homesteader.

“I like where it is there better,” he whispered.

Kodiak turned just as Hunter was speaking to say something more about the amazing light show of the Northern Lights being displayed above them, their lips meeting accidentally, but the resulting kiss was far more than just an un planned moment.

The kiss was the result of passion held in on both of their parts since the first time they had looked into each other’s eyes on the riverbank with the great bear thankfully galloping away from them.

As their mouths met under the gently moving lights of soft yellow, green, blue and blush of pink in the sky the men turned, bodies pressing together, thickening erections pushing at their heavy winter gear as their gloved hands began to rove up and down over each other’s backs. The tentative meeting of lips became a passionate kiss. After the impromptu strip tease a short time earlier even Kodiak’s Fort Knox like defenses were down. The romance of making out under the multi colored natural lights moving lazily across the sky would have tempted the most rigid mother Superior to break her vow of chastity.

Kodiak did not want to be involved in the kiss, but it was as natural and easy as the involuntary sex had been earlier. Something he could not control and in the deepest part of his mind did not want to control.

Hunter’s lips were soft, he still tasted of the liquor, but Kodiak didn’t mind. He allowed his body to melt in against the phony game warden, his hands roving slowly up and down over the young man’s muscular back as they ground against each other with the brilliant, soft Northern lights lazily wavering back and forth above them.

The moment was the first in a long time that made Kodiak feel whole. He was in that brief time with his lips firmly pressed against Hunter’s, complete again. There was no before or after the incident. No missing Charles or Jimmy, just the delicious feel of being lost in the wonderful feeling of the moment.

The kiss ended slowly, naturally. Hunter was smiling from ear to ear, trying to get Kodiak to look him in the eye but the young homesteader only coughed and shuffled his feet, turning away and averting his eyes back to the sky before he finally spoke again.

“Show’s over, back inside,” Kodiak mumbled, suddenly feeling guilty over the un intended kiss even though he enjoyed every second of it. “Last thing we need is you getting sick.”

Deciding to accept a half-loaf accidental kiss rather than no kisses at all from the homesteader, Hunter silently followed Kodiak back into the cabin where the pair settled in front of the fireplace.

“If I promise to behave could I have another shot of that booze?” Hunter pled.


Author Bio

James Brock - MuckluckedJames Brock spent the first part of his life on a remote Alaskan homestead in a cabin lined with books and a dreaded outhouse.

An Amazon #1 best selling author with Tailor Made, James has sold comedy one line material to Joan Rivers and Phyllis Diller, had essays published with the late Alyson Publications and sold erotic gay stories (Ok, porn) to every gay men’s magazine until they all folded in the 2000’s. His other novels are available at JamesBrockBooks.com.

James lives in Seattle with very appreciated indoor plumbing.

Author Website: JamesBrockBooks.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/james.brock.102977

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/Men-Overboard-100109810041126/

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PROMO: Innocence and Carnality

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Innocence and Carnality - J. Alan VeerkampJ. Alan Veerkamp has a new MM steampunk book out: Innocence & Carnality.

Innocence is his only currency.

The gilded cage of propriety where Nathan grew up as a member of the Deilian aristocracy became a true prison when, at fifteen, his homosexuality came to light and created a terrible scandal. His parents see only one way to preserve their reputation amongst the other noble families: fit Nathan with a chastity belt to increase his value to a potential partner and marry him off as soon as possible.

The recipient of that prize is Lord Rother Marsh Delaga III. After a hasty wedding, Rother whisks Nathan away to the strange and seductive land of Marisol, where Nathan will begin a new life, free to explore the pleasures of the marriage bed, though his life is still not his own.

But Rother’s Delaga House is a place of secrets, dangers, and depravity Nathan can scarcely comprehend. Where friends are few and peril waits around every corner, Nathan must employ all the manipulation he learned from high society, along with his talent for clockwork. Most of all, Nathan must adapt, compromise to survive, and cast off the preconceptions of his homeland.

Because only he can orchestrate his freedom, and it’ll come at a cost.

DSP Publications | Amazon | iBooks | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Google Play | Universal Buy Link 


Giveaway

J. Alan Veerkamp is giving away a $10 DSP gift card with this tour – enter via Rafflecopter for a chance to win:

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Excerpt

Innocence and Carnality Meme“Who told you?” My mother, Lady Margaritte Valencus, huffed in disgust—or at least as much disgust as her practiced expression allowed. Perched on the settee’s edge, she sat tall with her poised back never touching the tufted, embroidered upholstery. A woman of her standing could be expected to do no less.

“Not the person who should have.”

Her lips pursed into a tiny, painted frown. “So in other words, your brothers are the culprits. Sometimes I think they delight in tormenting you, Nathan. I swear they’re like a pair of gossiping old women at times.”

My chest pinched at the news. “So it’s true.”

She paused for a moment and sighed. Having been through this herself, she must have understood my concern. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

I knew this day would eventually come, but the proof brought me to a morose silence. Amongst the elaborately decorated furniture of my mother’s salon, on the end table next to her rested a handcrafted hourglass. The elegant glass bulbs were suspended between a framework of brass and gears. All the fine sand had emptied to the bottom, marking the time left to choose my own future. I wanted to invert it, to start my chances over once again.

Mother turned to the small canvas atop the nearby easel and began dabbing a slender paintbrush to the surface. It was an affectation. The bristles were void of paint, and in my twenty years, I’d never seen her finish a single painting. The possibility of staining her sable and gold brocade gown was unthinkable. Women of Deilian lords were expected to fill their days with arts and crafts, while providing the proper trophy for their husbands.

I played along with her fiction, giving myself time to absorb my own reality. Finding the brass dial embedded in the wall along the ebony wainscoting, I gave it a slow turn. The tension of hidden cogs thrummed under my fingertips and the gaslights grew brighter, illuminating the sanguine, patterned fabric lining the walls, giving her more light to pretend to work with. In the late spring afternoon it wasn’t necessary, yet I did so out of polite habit.

“Thank you, Nathan.”

I leaned against the mantel, fingering the edge of my waistcoat. The layers were snug and tailored, the fine wool properly adorned with buttons of fine metal, befitting a young man of my status. In another hour or two, I would be expected to change into formal dining dress to eat. There were clothing standards for every aspect of our lives. Only certain hobbies were permissible, and employment outside of family investments was unacceptable for the nobility.

With little to spend my time on, I’d grown restless and found hobbies my parents frowned upon. However, if I gave them little trouble, they were content to allow me my eccentricities. How odd they must have found my love of clockwork mechanisms. The precision. The order. Given the expectations my parents laid at my feet, one might think I’d be more attuned to my future requirements. The prospect of a marriage held the hallmarks of opportunity and disaster all at once.

“Do you know who he is?”

“A business associate of your father’s. Lord Rother Marsh Delaga III from Marisol.”

“So far away?” I didn’t want to whine—I was accused of it often enough—but this house and land were all I knew. For all my complaints, I wasn’t prepared to abandon it and my family.

Mother gave me a dismissive shake of her head. “Marisol is an airship ride away. Not far at all.”

“Do you know when?”

“Lord Rother will be coming in two weeks to meet you and hopefully accept your father’s offer. I’ve made an appointment with the clothier. We want you to make a good first impression.”

Well, as if that didn’t make me feel like a commodity. “At least I’ll get to meet him first before I’m shipped off.”

Mother slapped her dry brush onto the end table in her displeasure. “Don’t be droll, Nathan. You know perfectly well how things are done.” “And what if I don’t like him? Will Father force me to go through with it?”

“Most likely. This is an important union for our family.” “He can’t do that.”

She paused for a moment for effect. “Of course he can. Under Deilian law, until you are married or turn twenty-five, your father has final say.”

Pacing in a circle, I waved my hands in the air. “Wonder of wonders…. All hail the land of Deilia.”

Her delicate snarl was sharp and potent. “Stop that. Given your… orientation, there have been pitifully few options in this area to find a suitable mate for you. You don’t remember because you were an infant, but since the plague struck, Deilia has been focused on repopulating. The Monarch demanded it. And because you are unlikely to bear children—”

I stopped and glared at her. “That’s not my fault.” Layers of ire deepened my anger. I hated when she spoke to me like a vacuous noble who’d never been taught a smidgeon of Deilian history. The mention of the Monarch in this context only made it worse. As if I could forget the day I met him and my fall from grace began.

Mother pulled a brooch from her collar. With a touch of her thumb, it spun itself out, expanding into an exquisite fan with translucent blades. Another affectation. I’d been scolded enough over the years to know she didn’t require fresh air to have an uncomfortable conversation. “No, it isn’t your fault, but it’s the situation you’ve been saddled with. It is our duty to follow the plan laid out for us.”


Author Bio

While spending years more focused on visual arts, J. Alan Veerkamp never let go of his innate passion for storytelling, wanting to write and draw comic books when he grew up. Once he discovered M/M fiction, a whole new world opened filled with possibilities. Why couldn’t you have fantastic and dynamic sexy tales with an M/M cast? He started reading the online tales of authors like Night Tempest, Rob Colton, and Alicia Nordwell, which only fueled his need to create. Eventually he found GayAuthors.org, and with a little coercive nudge, started sharing his tales with an unexpected level of positive response. The experience and support gave him the courage to cross his fingers and aim for the world of M/M publishing.

Born and raised in Michigan, J. Alan continues to type away, wishing it was practical to use a noisy old-fashioned keyboard that clacks with each strike, if only to annoy his loving partner and spoiled miniature dachshund.

Author Website: https://jalanveerkamp.wordpress.com

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

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

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

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PROMO: Seer of Ice and Sky

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COVER - The Seer of Ice and SkyNatsuya Uesugi has a new queer dark fantasy book out in his “The Seer of Grace and Fire” series: The Seer of Ice and Sky.

Surviving the devastation of DarkFall, Timorn is now rightful King of Faerie. With evil lurking at the fringes between the kingdoms of the humans and the elves, the dark mage Dalannin travels to Dragonreise to forge an alliance with the Dragon King.

Timorn’s travelling party sets off on request from an elven emissary but dissent grows as the party passes through the human city of Ekhrine. As they stop at the Ecclesiastical University where the cleric Kabal translated The Legend of Arden prophesy, a demonic aura haunts their path.

Can Timorn forge an alliance with the dragons to ensure peace or will darkness drive a wedge between him and his magical twin Ethesian as they journey through the elven lands. Transgender heroine.

XLibris | Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CAN | Barnes & Noble 


About the Series:

A human cleric translating an elven prophesy must bring the work to the high court at Kannon in faerie before DarkFall, the solemn anniversary when all the male faerie newborns were murdered 17 years ago. If the translation does not arrive in time, all is lost. Timorn, a 17 year old ranger travels the human towns hiring out his services. A mysterious elven woman hires him to take her to Kannon before DarkFall, and only he can lead her with his purple faerie eyes.

The evil Valkyris is amassing an army to attack Kannon at DarkFall insisting she possess the prophesy. Sending her dark mage Dalannin to infiltrate faerie, he marches his demon hordes towards Kannon and sneaks into the palace. Ethesian, the 17 year old faerie daughter of King Ailon plays the dragon lyre, a female magic. Yet recently she has started having prophetic dreams as if she were male. When a lie is revealed, Ethesian is tasked to study magic she must master before DarkFall. Will Timorn reach Kannon before the Valkyris and Ethesian master a magic she shouldn’t possess? Secrets and lies, revelations and wizardry, DarkFall is coming and so too the reluctant faerie who would be king. Learn more in the first book of the dark fantasy trilogy, The Seer of Grace and Fire.

The Seer of Grace and Fire starts the dark fantasy trilogy reviewers have called “Enthralling” and “A beacon of light for readers young and old.” The series continues with release of The Seer of Ice and Sky book 2. Book 3 The Seer of Flesh and Death will be released early 2020.


Giveaway

Natsuya is giving away an ARC of book one in the series – The Seer of Grace and Fire – enter via Rafflecopter:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d4758/?


Excerpt

Timorn squinted as he studied the elven emissary, Arhlamanel dressed in finery, yet his stance and mannerisms were less refined then Ihel’s. He sensed deception. His ranger skill told him the elf was concealing something about his identity,

“I am aware of dragon riders, but not of a dragon king in Arenth,” Timorn said, turning to Eanna, his mother the First Consort, for confirmation. Eanna shook her head, also unaware.

Arhlamanel nodded. “The dragons are elusive and secretive, Your Majesty. Only a few high elves dare to venture up the perilous paths into the ice mountains to entertain them. It is treacherous as the dragons carefully guard the priceless gems within their lands.”

Timorn gripped the arms of the throne, leaning forward. “At DarkFall, we saw an adult dragon. A rider in black sat atop its monstrousg form. Luckily the brunt of its power was stopped before it could let loose with abandon.”

“It is as we heard. Thus, the dragon king requests you come to Akrisia, to the mountains in the North. He has sent me as emissary, in partner with the high elves, to bring you to hear his message. A party of your choice is invited to travel along, including one named Ethesian, who is also summoned. But be warned. One who wad banished many years ago has returned and is making inquiries in the dragon lands. He goes by the name of Dalannin. There is much suspicion amoungst the elves. Do you know of him?”

Timorn gasped. If Dalannin was with the dragons, that could only mean danger. Timorn spoke authoritatively, immediately deciding based on the elf’s report. “Yes, we know Dalannin, and yes, my party and Ethesian will accompany you to Akrisia. Lady Eanna will remain and keep watchful eye on the crown.”

“Yes, my lord,” Eanna acknowledged the decree.

“You must come dressed as a ranger,” Arhlamanel added. “That is how they will know you: by your clothes, your faerie daggers, and your sword. The dragon king and his half-dragon army will join you at the dragon court, high in the mountains. The trek up the expanse is arduous and will require a full day of walking to reach once we arrive.”

“Had Dalannin already recruited dragon riders to his cause? Timorn hoped for a negative answer.

“Unknown your Excellency. I hope, for our sakes and all of Arenth he has not.”


EXCLUSIVE CONTENT: Deleted Scene – Ihel and Timorn at the Waterfall

The high elf, Ihel, lingered at the edge of the stream, the crashing of the waterfall where Ishika was bathing off in the distance rushing over the rocks. Ihel glanced around her sensing no danger as the party took a break from their travels.
Timorn pulled his tunic off and set it down on a rock, pulling off his boots and wading into the stream up to his waist. The water was cool as he shivered slightly, bare chest exposed, muscles rippling. He turned to face Ihel at the side of the lake splashing water on her face. Taking in the subtle curves of her tight fitting tunic which swelled over her breasts, she stood up looking over at Ethesian sitting on a rock frowning.
Ihel unbuttoned the clasps at the neck of her tunic and pulled the flap down revealing cleavage. She leaned down and splashed her neck running her wet hands up and down her arms. Timorn glanced at her eagerly feeling heat pass through his thighs as he took in her gentle moves. She caught him looking, frowning and stood up turning away quickly, fastening the clasps at her neck covering herself again.
“Your wild eyes betray you, ranger…” she scoffed chuckling.
Timorn waded closer to Ethesian as he threw water on his chiseled chest, washing off the dirt from the previous days. Their ride on the merchant’s path on their way to Ekhrine had been many days and they were still not to their destination. Timorn moved over to the side of the stream in front of Ihel who was kneeling. He slapped the water splashing her in the face. She frowned and dipped her hand in the water cupping her fingers, showering him with wet, dowsing his hair.
“Watch it, ranger…”
“Hardly,” Timorn smirked and grabbed Ihel’s wrist pulling at her.
She pulled back from him, resisting as he grabbed at her playfully.
Yanking, he jerked her and she fell into the stream, her hair and tunic wet. He dunked her down under the water, and she thrashed, shaking her short blonde hair as Timorn splashed her again.
“Now, I am all wet!” she shouted slapping the water storming over to Timorn, water up to her waist. She grabbed his shoulders shoving him into the water covering his head, holding him down. He struggled under her elven strength then burst up shaking his head, flinging wet.
He wiped his face and breathed in deep. “So that is my punishment, you drowning me?” He chuckled as she retreated to the shore throwing herself down on the jutting rocks next to Ethesian huffing her disgust, dripping wet from her ordeal.
“It is just water, Princess…” laughed Timorn as Ihel stood up, unclipped her tunic at the neck and sides and peeled it down, the short sleeves hanging at her waist revealing her lithe, body, and large breasts under a silk half shirt that clung to her subtle curves.
Timorn’s eyes widened as heat flashed through him on seeing her gentle pink unblemished flesh. He put his back to her calming down, ensuring his eyes did not betray him, trying to calm his excited flesh. He looked over at Kabal, the cleric, who was pacing at the other side of the stream.
The cleric smirked waving the young ranger over. “Best keep those eyes in your head and hands to yourself, young ranger. I see how you watch her…” Kabal’s voice a whisper.
Timorn climbed out of the stream going over to Kabal in his dripping wet leggings and picked up his tunic, sauntering up to the cleric.
“You are teasing a princess of the high elves. Ihel is rebellious in nature, her short hair confirms it. No matter how base born she plays, she bristles royal eleven decorum. She is daughter of the elven king. You best watch yourself and your actions.”
Timorn pulled on his tunic and fastened the straps on the three buckles down the front. “I am just teasing her.” Timorn smiled looking over at Ihel who was glaring at him. Timorn gulped realizing he was on her last nerve.
Ihel called out. “Cleric, a word?”
“Be right there.” Kabal planted a hand on Timorn’s shoulder and blinked, looking him straight in the eyes. “You are definitely in trouble now.”
Kabal started to walk away.
Timorn looked over at Ihel pacing back and forth fuming, her hands in fists. He grabbed Kabal’s arm, pulling him back, concerned about Ihel’s expression. “Cleric, your counsel. What do you suggest?”
“Let her win…” Kabal smirked then broke out laughing bending over, exploding in glee as he disengaged going to Ihel.
Timorn confused, lost, left to determine the ruse, himself, he watched on helpless as Kabal engaged a fuming Ihel. She turned up her nose and whirled around back to him, not taking any more of his playful words. Timorn gulped.
Ethesian crossed her arms and sneered, chiming in from her perch. “You are definitely in trouble now, brother.”


Author Bio

Natsuya Uesugi is a cybersecurity analyst with an MBA in International Management and a minor in Japanese. He is author of the science fiction grydscaen series, the yaoi novellas and manga graphic noiz and The Seer of Grace and Fire fantasy trilogy. He creates all the illustrations for his books. He enjoys skydiving, cosplay, anime and writing poetry.

Author Website: http://www.natsukoarts.com

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

Author Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/natsuya_uesugi

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

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4558587.Natsuya_Uesugi

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/natsuya-uesugi/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00J6EDQQ6

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About That Writing Thing

Writing

Sometime about a zillion years ago, I decided to get back into writing about writing. I made a few posts about writing, how I generate worlds, and such, but I was just too damn sick to keep up with the idea.

Well, I got fixed. Literally. And now my body is finally returning to normal. I even caught myself feeling sane last week! (I know, right?)

Anyway, all babbling aside, I feel better these days. So I’m going to get on with the writing about writing thing.

Posts about writing I made in the past:

Writing Is For Writers

Oh, That Muse…

Worldbuilding 101: The Basics

Finally!

personal, Random

Something awesome finally happened last night. Ever since I had surgery a year ago, I’ve been trying to get back into bellydance. And… my body’s been stubbornly refusing to cooperate.

But last night, I was in the middle of thinking the usual this sucks, why even bother, I can’t dance, and suddenly my body said oh yeah! I know how to do this!

And I became a bellydancer again.

*does happy dance*

(I know. The picture has nothing to do with dancing. But the silly things make me happy.)