Sell Your Blood is the second book in a series of loosely connected MM paranormal romances. It features an Ivy League a-spec vampire who’s never been in love before and an inner-city man who’s sworn off relationships for the last decade as they struggle to combine their different worlds and find a fire in each other hotter than they thought possible.

​While it can be enjoyed on its own, the optimal reading order is chronological. Note this story features blackmail, general violence, the smoking of prescription drugs to manage intense pain, and the acquisition of far too many salt and pepper shakers.

See the full cover here:

Blurb

“You have money, I have blood. How would you like to buy it?”
 
No romantic story has ever lived up to Dr. Clementine Hughe’s reality but at least he has his steamy two-million-word fanfic and a prestigious research position at Vitalis-Barron Pharmaceuticals, where their benefits are superb and their experimentation on vampires highly unethical. When a mysterious accident turns Clementine into a vampire, discovery would demote him to lab rat and his growing thirst for his coworker’s veins forces him to the streets to hunt.
 
Justin Yu is usually the one attacking villains in alleys, not the other way around. After the tragedy he brought upon his local vampiric community in his youth, he’s struggled tirelessly to keep their vampires safe. So when a panicking Clementine botches a bite attempt, Justin takes pity—and advantage—and offers the vampire a trade: his blood in exchange for an exorbitant fee.
 
In desperation, Clementine accepts.
 
Justin’s blood is bland and unappealing, but the more Clementine learns to appreciate the man’s sharp humor and persistent compassion, the more he acquires a taste for Justin. Justin is determined not to let Clementine’s good looks and thoughtful intellect distract him as hunters from Vitalis-Barron close in on Justin’s neighborhood, and it turns out someone there knows Clementine’s vampiric secret…
 
Tropes

Sell Your Blood includes:

• Different Worlds + First Love gay romance
• Demisexual awakening that turns horny AF
• Neurodivergent a-spec vampire who writes ABO fanfic
• Human vigilante with chronic pain and a dark past
• A villainous research company using vamps as lab rats
• ●Emotional intimacy -> sneaky public spice

Excerpt

Doctor Clementine Hughes did not deserve this.

He could feel the blood pulsing through the neck of the lab technician who sat three desks away from him. His gaze yanked to the exposed veins on her wrist as she tapped her pen. As though his fangs had a mind of their own, the venomous canines slipped free. He retracted them in a panic. The few humans lingering in their research lab’s communal office space seemed not to notice.

This time.

It had been three months since Clementine turned, and with each slip-up he was more and more certain someone would take note. When they did, he could only hope that they killed him before they tried to fire him. That sounded like a much nicer progression. No severance pay, but at least he’d never have to tell his parents that Vitalis-Barron Pharmaceuticals, frontrunner in medical research and therapeutics, had sacked him just as they were considering his promotion to their microbio department’s senior research associate.

Clementine ran his tongue over his front teeth—no more fangs, thankfully—and tried to ignore the lab tech as she walked behind him. He held his breath. She passed by. He exhaled.

And his fangs slipped out again.

Dammit.

Clementine didn’t know much about vampires, but he knew he didn’t deserve to be one.

The first few days had been a waking nightmare of pain and sweats. Many people died during the transition, but after living through it he was pretty sure he had died. That was where the myth of the undead vampire came from, he was certain. He had died, and this was hell.

Except Clem was also certain that in the real afterlife, he wouldn’t be having quite this hard of a time, seeing how he’d done absolutely nothing wrong in his entire life. That wasn’t arrogance, and it wasn’t delusion. Doctor Clementine Hughes, chemist of the year, potential Nobel Prize winner, secret writer of five million words of slow-burning, emotionally smutty and incredibly gay Star Trek fanfic, had exerted a great deal of energy in order to live this perfect a life.

And now his meticulously sculpted existence was falling apart around him. Because of a tiny, itty-bitty disaster, one that hadn’t even been his fault. He was pretty sure about that. He’d analyzed it fifty times already that evening, and after another fifty he was prepared to bump pretty sure up to mostly sure before the whole process started again tomorrow.

It hadn’t been his fault, right?

When he could remember so little of what had happened to him, it was hard to be certain…

“Clementine!”

Clem flinched so hard that his vampiric strength knocked his chair into his desk.
Dr. Anthony Hilker leaned toward Clem’s shoulder, watching him with his brow raised. The man had his blazer slung over an arm and his brown hair was pulled up in a bun today, revealing his undercut and the long slope of his neck. Blood pulsed faintly beneath the skin there, but Clementine’s general annoyance with Anthony made it a bit easier for him to drag his gaze upward.

A few wisps of gray were growing at his temples.

Clementine hadn’t even turned thirty yet and he already swore he was finding some silver mixed with his own hair, though the natural gold of his curls did a better job of hiding it. Working for this company seemed to have an aging effect on people. Or perhaps that was simply the result of fighting for promotions against Anthony’s aggressive enthusiasm.

Clem forced a smile. “Good evening, Anthony.”

“You’re in… what is this, early for you?” Anthony wrinkled his nose. “I still can’t believe you’ve shifted so many of your hours to a night schedule. That would wreak havoc on my ability to sleep.”

The fact that their level of the lab sat two stories underground was the only reason Clementine could stand the few day shifts he’d kept, and even then he had to time his coming and going to avoid direct sunlight. “The empty lab helps me think,” Clem replied. “Dr. Blood approves of it. She suggested we form a full night team. It would be almost like having two labs running without the need to build a second location.”

Anthony’s eyes tightened. “That sounds… capitalistic. But I can’t imagine Vitalis-Barron would implement it. It would make it far too easy for vampires to slip into our midst.”

“We could use it as a new hunting tactic.” Natalie Deleon wrapped an arm around Anthony’s neck as she slipped in behind him, her chin tucked against his shoulder like a rabid PDA announcement. “Lure them in with a job offer and don’t let them back out again.”

A tremble worked itself up Clementine’s spine at the thought of the secret, lowest level of their research complex’s underground labs—the basement—where they kept the vampires they used in very specific and very secretive parts of their research. Vampires who looked like they were inches from death, hollow-eyed and locked in cages. Vampires who people from Natalie’s team had gently pressured into ‘volunteering’ for the cause.

Vampires, like Clementine.

He’d always known that some of their microbio projects used compounds produced by vampires, but he’d assumed they were acquired on a more ethical basis until Vitalis-Barron had recently deemed him worthy of visiting the basement lab. There was nothing technically illegal about using vampires as lab rats, not when lawyers could argue that the research ethics laws currently in place were written specifically for humans. None of it would have sat right with Clementine even before he’d turned, but now the chance of getting another job anywhere half as respectable with a quarter of the paycheck would be out of question. One daytime interview in a well-lit room and they’d usher him out the door like his painful sun-induced shakes were contagious. No more respectable job, no more apartment, no more family approval, no more life.

He just had to keep his head down and his work consistent and hope that no one noticed his fangs.

“Nat,” Anthony cooed at his girlfriend. He was too old for her, and the feigned childishness made it even more obvious. “Don’t tell me you’re bored already.”

She waggled the tip of her dark braid against Anthony’s lips. “Not bored, just frustrated. I think I have a lead though, finally, some vampire who’s been helping the two who murdered Matthew. If I can get my hands on them…”

“And then you’ll be ready to let this vengeance nonsense go?”

“Then I’ll have closure.” Natalie pecked him on the cheek. The mark of her red lipstick remained on his skin like a brand. “And the boss will be happy. The basement is low on subjects again.”

Clementine tried to roll his chair away, staring anywhere but the woman’s neck. “Our research on vampires is at the forefront of modern science.” He repeated the line from their tour, trying to beam pro-vampire torture from every cell of his being.

“I’m not sure we can claim we’re truly progressing our pharmaceutical research when everything we do is based solely on where the money is,” Anthony put in, playing with Nat’s braid. “How much more would we learn if we stopped caring whether anything turned a profit and instead followed the science, wherever it led?”

“Right now the science is leading me back to the lab,” Clementine replied, scooting his chair further away from the incessant lovebirds. “If you would excuse me.”
As he tried to leave, Anthony called after him. “You heard about the break-ins at our blood bank, right?”

The slightly darker, entirely unhuman blood in Clem’s veins went cold.

“Yeah,” the man continued as though Clem had acknowledged him. “Apparently someone’s been stealing from it, maybe for months. They’re putting up cameras now.”

“Are they? Cameras?” Clementine’s voice sounded distant to his own ears, echoing back at him across a great plain of his own panic. “Good. Good on them.” Good on them? Those couldn’t have been his words.

Fuck it, he needed to get out of here. But more than that, he needed to work, because taking his shifts at night, without the rest of his team, had already put him behind on his current projects. And if what Anthony had said was true, and his bagged blood supply was suddenly disappearing on him, he would have to find a new source.

Most likely, a live one.

Clem ended up in the bathroom, both hands pressed to the back of a locked stall as he focused on breathing. Through extensive tracking of his own consumption, he’d deduced that a moderately sized adult vampire such as himself was meant to drink approximately 44 milliliters—a shot glass, hilariously—of blood a day, but for the past month he’d been trying to hide his stealing by diluting his intake down to half that, as though he might wean himself off the horrid stuff entirely. Which wasn’t actually possible. He assumed. It wasn’t as though he had anyone to ask, exactly: the only real vampires he’d ever seen outside the news had been the ones locked in cells and strapped to tables three floors beneath him.

But just setting foot on that level would raise the entire building’s alarms since the bizarre break-in shortly after Clem was turned. There had been a vampire in the lab then too—a vampire who was healthy and strong, who had held his human partner’s wrist and leaned toward his ear without his gaze catching on the man’s neck even once. An escaped new arrival, perhaps? Or a thief?

Clementine should have run after him. He’d been too slow on the uptake, too convinced that the nightmare of his vampirism would somehow work itself out. That since he didn’t deserve this, it would have to go away.

But it hadn’t.

He shoved the bathroom wall with a muffled growl. The tile cracked beneath the pressure. Cracked, like him, from reasons beyond his control. Undeserved.

Thirty minutes later, he finally returned to the now much quieter office space. He put his headphones in, blasting the soothing tones of orchestral metal into his skull, and threw on a lab coat, descending into work until everything else faded away.

By the time he collected his leather satchel and donned his tweed coat, the 7 a.m. lab staff were already arriving with coffee and yawns. He checked the sky for the first signs of dawn as he stepped out into the dark winter morning. The air was unusually chilly—a mid-thirties that might almost have brought snow, if the precipitation would ever make its way past the white-capped eastern mountains. Three months ago, it would have made him tug up his collar and hurry to the car, but since turning, he never felt particularly cold. Instead, he tugged up his collar in an attempt to block the appetizing scent of the incoming wave of staff and hurried to the car to keep any of them from trying to talk to him.

As he slipped inside his electric sedan, his phone buzzed with an incoming call. He hated those, hated how disconnected they felt, how the participants were expected to understand the full scope of emotion being conveyed without any facial or body language cues, and, worse, to convey their own emotions back using tone of voice alone. Even the best calls left him feeling tired and jittery.

He almost tossed his phone over the obnoxious beach umbrella that took up his center console—an emergency precaution he hadn’t had to use yet—but the caller ID stopped him. His sister couldn’t wait; family was a priority, at least in his family. Alongside the priorities of financial growth, academic acclaim, and all-around prestige.

Clem hit answer a moment too late and cursed as he struggled to call Odysseus back while turning on the car. Its Bluetooth clicked over, Odysseus’s voice booming out as clearly as though the woman was in the vehicle with him.

“Clementine, honey, is this not a good time? I can call back.”

“Sissy, hey.” He raised his voice, then regretted it as his sister audibly recoiled. Softer, he added, “No, no, this is fine. Do you need something?” Need something. Clem cringed. That was too forward. Pushy even.

Odysseus sighed. “No--yes. It’s just Reggie. He’s coming back into town next month and I thought we’d throw him a little thing.” A little thing had also been Sissy’s way of describing the New Year’s party she’d hosted last week: a five-hundred-guest gala with a seven-course meal and a million-dollar charity raffle. Between that and heading a prestigious law firm, she had covered everything her family could possibly want from her. And here was her younger brother, secretly dreading the fact that a promotion to senior associate would take him further away from the mundanity of routine lab duties and feeling burnt to hell and back from the few hours he’d spent at his family’s holiday functions.

“Oh just a little thing, then.” As he said it, he realized he’d sounded not only pushy but annoyed, too. In person he could have smiled it off, but now he was stuck. Would an I’m just joking work? Suddenly he couldn’t recall if that was a thing people did.

The other end of the phone went quiet for a moment. “Are you all right, Clem?”

What a day. “Yes, fine. I’m great.” Clem tried his best to grit his teeth and beam through the phone. “Dr. Blood is thinking of taking up my idea of a full night shift, and the drug we pushed to clinical trials last month is already giving us positive results.”

“Which of the many drugs you won’t tell me about is this?”

“Alas, I am sworn to secrecy.”

“Still afraid I might steal your compounds for my law practice?”

“I just hope you never have to prosecute us.” Clem finally pulled out of his associate of the year parking space, but all he could think of were Vitalis-Barron’s cells full of vampires. If only they’d let him keep his phone during that tour…

Sissy laughed, all sparkling wine and biting logic. “Why I’d never. Conflict of interest! But you had better be working on something for my poor wrinkles. I’m thirty-seven and I look like the Grim Reaper. Not even the hot, boy toy version. It’s disgusting.”

Odysseus had presented as a hot, boy toy version of herself for most of her life, but the last five years she’d finally transitioned into a literal goddess instead. Their parents had initially put on a show of distress, but once Sissy proved that she was just as capable a businesswoman and lawyer as she had been while using her birth-assigned pronouns, they had grudgingly offered support. Really, Clem figured none of them should have been so shocked when the sibling who’d feminized what their parents had always claimed was a gender-neutral ‘Odysseus’ into ‘Sissy’ had turned out to be a girl. It was like the universe had programmed itself to fit her needs ahead of time.

Clem cringed. That was too harsh of him—the universe had put his sister through a fair helping of emotional and surgical trauma to get her to this place—but he still envied how optimistically and effortlessly she’d handled it all.

“Unfortunately no,” he replied. “But we are working on a pill that takes away the headaches your old, decrepit sister gives you, and I plan to get a lot of use out of it.”
“You are such a hoot.” Sissy chortled. “Now, I have hot yoga to catch and a client at 9:30. You sleep well, Clem! Buh-bye.”

The call ended before he could give his own farewell, which was for the best, since it sat a little sour on his tongue. At least this way he didn’t have to deal with the eternally awkward back and forth of ‘how many goodbyes is appropriate’ and trying to figure out who should be the one to hang up.

As he pulled past the parking lot’s security gate with a wave, his gaze caught on the guard’s neck. He swore he could see the blood pounding beneath her skin. Calling to him. His stomach ached like a black hole and his fangs slipped free with such force that he had to struggle to pull them back in.

He could feel his empty fridge taunting him already, his last stolen blood bag finished this morning. Before he left for work next, he’d have to find a new source of blood, or else risk sinking his fangs into his Vitalis-Barron coworkers.
​
Which meant that Doctor Clementine Hughes, faltering phenomenon and broken vampire, would have to hunt his first human tonight.

Today is my stop on Gay Book Promotions release blitz for Ulrivaled by Ashlyn Kane and Morgan James, the third book in the amazing Hockey Ever After series! 

Blurb

​People say there’s a fine line between love and hate. If you ask Grady Armstrong, the line’s as obvious as the one across the middle of a hockey rink. 

So he can’t explain why he doesn’t walk away when his Grindr hookup—a guy who accused him of impersonating himself—turns out to be Max Lockhart, a rival player Grady once punched in the face. Apparently Max can goad him just as well off the ice as he can on it. 

Max Lockhart showed up thinking he was going to expose a fake. Instead he hooks up with a guy who claims to hate him. And has a good time. A really good time. But that doesn’t mean players from different teams can be together. 

Max has always wished Grady would relax a little. When the season starts and Grady accepts Max’s offer of help with finding someone to date for real, Max gets his wish. But he should’ve been careful what he wished for, because now that he knows Grady is a big softie under that prickly shell, he’d rather keep Grady for himself. 

Grady only goes on a handful of dates before he realizes he has a lot more fun with Max. But he can’t be falling for a rival player… can he?

Excerpt 

Like every good East Coast Canadian kid, Max grew up dreaming of playing hockey with the maple leaf on his chest.

Of course, he imagined wearing it in a tournament that mattered, but just because this one had no real stakes didn’t mean he didn’t want to win. He just wouldn’t sacrifice his body for it.

But he would bring his A game for the chirps. Team USA was playing Grady Armstrong on their first line, and there were few players Max had more fun riling. His sister, Nora, had been in town for one of their regular season games against each other, and back at his house later, they got high and giggly as they watched the replay of Armstrong in the penalty box. “No, but check out the muscles bunching in his jaw when he clenches it,” she’d half tsked, half giggled. “I mean, the look works for him, but he definitely grinds his teeth.”

“Guy’s strung way too tight,” Max agreed sagely. Then he restarted the video so they could watch him lose his shit again.

So maybe Max had had an idle fantasy or three about how to help Armstrong unwind. Or, honestly, not—he’d probably be equally good in bed cranky.

Max would’ve enjoyed the World Cup of Hockey experience either way, was the point. Go team and all that. Plus events like this were prime hookup opportunities—hockey players, hockey fans, hockey capital of the country.

Unfortunately, tonight he didn’t have the energy to hook up in person—not after practice and then drinks with the boys, and with practice again tomorrow. Putting an effort into his appearance at 10 p.m.? In this economy?

Pass.

This was why God invented Grindr.

Max flopped on his hotel bed and thumbed open the app.

He didn’t use it often. Max’s charm was more potent in person and in limited doses. He knew his strengths. But he was pretty good at taking dick pics that were sexy but still anonymous. Everybody should have a plan B.

He perused the app’s offerings.

The first three guys he passed on were like beers. Young, blond, inoffensive profiles. Not memorable or particularly potent, but they’d quench your thirst. One of them had actually posted the lyrics to “867-5309” under his profile pic, which made Max suspect he was either a douchebag or lying about his age.

Not tonight, Jenny. He swiped on to the next guy.

The following one, Jordan, was a mixed drink. Could be watered-down and flavorless, could knock you on your ass. No way to know until you took a sip. Jordan was cute, but not what Max was looking for tonight. He just wanted to get off and go to bed.

He swiped again.

… and then there was this guy. His face and dark eyes promised the potency of a shot.

The fact that it was Grady Armstrong’s face meant it was a straight-up catfish.

“Seriously, dude?” Max navigated to the message icon before his brain could even engage. Who did this guy think he was kidding? They were in Toronto. If Grady Armstrong wanted to get his dick wet, all he had to do was go outside and smile at someone.

The smiling would probably hurt him, though. It was not the guy’s natural expression. See: evidence of teeth grinding.

Max debated a handful of seconds before settling on the fishing emoticon. He followed up with nice try asshole, in case the message wasn’t totally clear.

A moment later a checkmark popped up to indicate the message had been read.

Max had intended to jerk off tonight, but getting into a fight on the internet was almost as good. He settled in to wait for the reply.

I really love this series! This third book is independent of the other books  (there are some cameo appearances but no real plot crossover) but I’d still recommend you to read the previous books as well, simply because they’re absolutely worth it! This series is such a wonderful and sweet mm hockey romance rivals to lovers series, with the perfect amount of steam and lovable main characters with an absolutely sizzling chemistry!

You can find my reviews of all three books here: The Hockey Ever After Series by Ashlyn Kane and Morgan James

​About the Authors

I’m so happy to be a part of the Gay Book Promotions Book Blast for Chasing Hope by Gwen Martin. I read it a while ago and absolutely loved this heartbreaking and beautiful book that is full of pain and hope, grief and joy, loss and love, and amazing characters! So do yourself a favour and get your own copy of it right away now that it’​s on sale for only 99c!

Loss chased him away. Hope brought him love...But is that enough?
 
Blurb 

​Sean is only twenty-seven, but he’s already lost everything that gave him life. On the verge of losing hope for a future, he moves to a town where no one knows about him, the death of his child, or his failed marriage; but when his nightmares and his guilt follow him without the pitying glares, he realizes he can’t move forward on his own.

Jonah has worked tirelessly to keep his father’s memory alive and be a fixture in the small town he grew up in. Now, nearing forty, his dreams have been long forgotten to keep everyone else’s alive, and he doesn’t know how to reclaim his life as his own without losing his last connection to his father.

But when the two men’s lives collide, they’re forced to confront their grief and accept that there can be life and hope after loss—if you’re willing to chase it.

Chasing Hope is a 68k small-town, second chance at love, M/M Romance. There are subject matters in this book that may act as triggers for some. Readers are invited to check out the complete trigger warning on the copyright page, which can be viewed by clicking on the "Look Inside" preview or by downloading the sample. These triggers contain spoilers for the book.

Excerpt 

“Well, don’t ever do what I did and sleep with your best friend’s brother.” Jonah rubbed the back of his neck, color tinting his cheeks. “I said that wrong. There’s no ill will or anything. It didn’t last long.”

When Sean spoke, his voice came out hoarse and shaky. “I’m sorry.” 

Jonah waved his hand. “Eh, it’s not a big deal. It was a long time ago, and we’re still super close. Candice worries I’ll never date again but dating at 37 is far harder than when you’re in your twenties.”

Sean laughed. “Oh really? Because I’m 27 and I can say that having been married and divorced by the time I was 26 isn’t exactly great dinner date conversation.”  
Jonah shifted in his seat, resting his arm along the back of the couch. His hand grazed over Sean’s shoulder, his eyes watching the pattern they traced. “Well, that’s a shame on their part. They’re definitely missing out.” 

Sean’s entire body was vibrating, and the muscles in his legs quaking. He didn’t know what he was doing, he didn’t know if he could confess the truth of his sexuality again. Sean had already tried twice, and both times had failed miserably.
Sean had once gone bungee jumping with Parker over the Colossus Bridge in Italy. He didn’t know what he was doing, but the massive expanse of green was so vivid it looked like a photograph. The man who had geared him up spoke broken English and said with a thick Italian accent, “You fly. Be free. Nowhere else but here.”

Sean wanted to take that leap again. Wanted to be free. Wanted to fly.

He leaned over and kissed Jonah.

It wasn’t the best kiss. If anything, judging by Sean’s history of kissing, it was embarrassingly awful. He was a little off center from Jonah’s mouth, and Sean’s lips slid over to the corner. At the same time, he lingered a second too long, and Jonah gasped in surprise, causing Sean’s tongue to slide under Jonah’s bottom lip.

He pulled back, his face burning. Jonah’s hand lifted to his lips, eyes round with shock. Sean couldn’t control his breathing, his hands balling into fists. He licked his lips again, eager to taste Jonah on his tongue. Jonah’s eyes trailed down to Sean’s mouth and stayed there for a protracted beat.

“Um,” Jonah said, his lips pursing out a bit. “That—”

“I’m not straight,” Sean said, blurting the words a bit louder than intended. The rest tumbled out, glued together, sticky and rushed. “I tried to tell you before, but I messed up and I couldn’t—I couldn’t—I mean, I didn’t want to—”

Jonah pressed a finger to Sean’s lips, silencing him. His eyes appeared bluer in the dimming late afternoon, his hair framing his sharp jawline. Sean’s breath came out in ragged huffs as Jonah traced his fingertips along Sean’s chin, over his jaw, and around his temple. He combed those same fingers through Sean’s hair, and Sean couldn’t help but let his eyes flutter shut, lean into the touch.

“When I dated Lee, we didn’t tell anyone because I was worried about Candice finding out about her brother and best friend hooking up,” Jonah said, his voice quiet but even. 

Sean tried to listen, tried to pay attention, but it was hard with Jonah’s dull nails scraping along his scalp. He shivered, biting the inside of his cheek hard. 

Jonah drew closer, his other hand resting on Sean’s hip. “In the end we realized it wasn’t meant to be. We decided we were better off as friends, and a few months later he started dating the man who is now his husband. They’re better together than we ever would’ve been.”

Jonah’s breath ghosted over Sean’s mouth as he whispered, “There’s been no one since.”

Sean breathed hard through his nose when Jonah’s hand cupped around the back of his neck. “No one?”

“Well, there is someone,” Jonah murmured, low and rumbly.

“Ye-yeah?” Sean whispered. His eyes remained closed, too scared to open them and see how Jonah’s eyes looked. He imagined they were full of heat and as captivating as a clear summer sky. Breathing became difficult, and his heartbeat ramped up to a gallop.

“Yeah,” Jonah said, his voice breathy. “I really want to kiss you. Is that okay?” Jonah whispered. 

The huskiness of his voice swirled around Sean like a sharp wind, overwhelming and shocking. He gripped Jonah’s t-shirt and pulled him closer. 
​
“Yes,” Sean said. He wanted to sound confident and sure, but instead his voice came out raw and desperate. The next word slipped between his lips on its own accord. “Please.”

Chasing Hope is of the most authentic stories I’ve ever read about the devastating grief and guilt, and how to find the strength to go on living, after being through the worst thing that can happen to a parent; losing your child. But at the same time as it dealt with all this hurt and loss, it was also such a sweet and heart-warming small town, second chance, m/m romance.

Find my full review here: Chasing Hope by Gwen Martin

​About the Author 

Gwen Martin grew up in Florida where the sun was always shining, the humidity was high, and Disney was just a hop skip away. She currently lives in Knoxville, Tennessee to experience seasons and be closer to the mountains. When she’s not trying to write one of her million story ideas, she’s usually hanging out with her husband and four cats. 

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

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

Connect with Gwen Martin

Website • Instagram • Facebook • Goodreads • ​Newsletter

Buy Chasing Hope

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Synopsis
​
It all started with a letter.
 
This letter I am now holding in shaky hands that I must have read at least a dozen times already. A letter I felt compelled to retrieve from the public trashcan after that woman all but tossed it away. I know it was none of my business. It was wrong, and I know that. But after suffering through the kinds of loss that I had, my gut insisted that whoever took the time to write down their words didn’t deserve them to be left in the trash like they didn’t matter.
 
Because they should matter.
 
What’s the big deal right? It’s just a letter…
 
But the problem was, my name wasn’t Daphne.
 
And I wrote a letter back.

​About the author

Kathleen grew up in the south-western suburbs of Sydney, where family holidays by the beach and tormenting her two younger brothers, was how she spent her early years. But at the young age of 11, when she submitted a short story to a talented writing competition through the NSW schools program, not only did she win it, but she quickly found a love for it as well.

Throughout her schooling, writing was a hobby, along with sketching and various sports. But fast forward to her adult years when she moved to Europe to follow her husbands field hockey dream, and her love for writing surged to the surface.

Her debut story, Cut, was penned over two years where her hobby seemed to lead to the completion of Pennys’ world. The rest of the series came the following year.

Kathleen enjoys writing stories full of self-discovery, emotional journeys and of course, love.

Something else she loves is hearing from her readers, so feel free to follow her blog or drop her an email.

For signed copies of her novels, more information about upcoming stories, or to follow her blog, please visit her website www.kathleenmaree.weebly.com

Connect with Kathleen Mareé

Website • Facebook • Instagram • Twitter • Goodreads

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Today is my stop on Gay Book Promotions blog tour celebrating the release of the second chance mm holiday romance Love In The Mediterranean by RJ Peterson!

Blurb

Neil Watkins isn’t too surprised to receive an invitation to Rob Asher and Ben Rockingham’s wedding. After all, he’s been best friends with Ben’s son Kyle for several years. But he is excited to be invited to join them on the honeymoon - a party for a select group of family and friends on an all-expense paid Mediterranean cruise. He’s hesitant at first, but Kyle convinces him to go. Well, his own love life sucks at the moment. Maybe he’ll have better luck in the Med.

When he receives an invitation to their wedding and honeymoon party, Matthew Palmer balks at the idea of joining Rob and Ben on their honeymoon cruise. The master jeweler, a friend to both men, thinks the offer is way too generous, but Rob’s best friend Samantha persuades him to rethink his decision. His last relationship really knocked him for a loop, and maybe Sam was right and he should think about himself for a change
​
When Neil and Matthew meet, unexpected and undeniable sparks fly. Has their luck finally changed? Can this really be their second chance at love in the Mediterranean?

Excerpt 

As he approached the hostess at the doorway to the bistro, she looked up at him and said, “Good morning, sir. Are you dining alone this morning?”

“Yes, plea—“ he paused, catching a glimpse of Matthew sitting alone at a table near the window. “Excuse me,” he said. “That gentleman is part of the group I’m traveling with. Let me ask if I can join him.”

“Certainly sir.”

He strode to the table, hoping he wasn’t making a fool of himself by intruding on Matthew’s breakfast.

“Good morning, Matthew. Would it be okay if I joined you. Um, that is, um, if you’re not expecting anyone.” Dammit, I sound like an idiot. Don’t be nervous. He’s just a friend.

“Oh hi, Neil” Matthew sounded genuinely pleased to see him. “No, I’m not expecting anyone and you can certainly join me if you’d like.”

“Thanks.” As Neil sat down, the hostess came over and handed him a menu.

“Enjoy your breakfast, gentlemen.”

“Did you sleep okay?” Neil asked, trying to start a conversation and not sound like he was daft.

“Yeah, I did” Matthew replied. “I love the water and find the sound of it very soothing. I left the balcony door open when I was getting ready for bed last night and that helped relax me after a very exciting day yesterday.” He paused to sip his coffee. “What about you?”

“I did, too, actually,” Neil said. “That surprised me a bit since I often have trouble sleeping in a new place. Even though the seas are quite calm, I could feel a gentle rocking once I went to bed. I think that, combined with the alcohol we consumed at dinner, helped put me to sleep quicker than usual.”

Matthew chuckled. “Yeah, I drank more than I normally do yesterday. I’m gonna need to behave myself on this trip.”

A waiter approached carrying a carafe and asked Neil if he wanted coffee.

“Yes, please,” he replied.

"Are you ready to order?” The waiter asked.

“I’d like the fresh fruit with yogurt,” Matthew said. “And some wheat toast, please. Do you have any peanut butter?”

“Yes sir, we do. I’ll bring some with your toast.”

“A man after my own heart,” Neil said with a laugh. “I love peanut butter. I’ll have the same for breakfast, please.”

“Certainly sir. I’ll be back shortly with your orders.”

“It’s so nice to find a fellow peanut butter lover,” Matthew said.

“I have a confession,” Neil said, blushing a little. “I may have packed some single-serve containers in my checked luggage. But I completely forgot to bring one with me this morning.”

“That’s hilarious,” Matthew chuckled. “And I wish I had thought of it.”

“Well, at least they have some on board. And if they happen to run out before the end of the cruise, I’ll share my stash with you.”

“Deal.”

The waiter returned a few minutes later with their breakfast, refilled both coffee cups, and departed.

“Do you have any plans for today?” Neil asked, as he smeared peanut butter onto one of the toast slices.

“I was thinking of walking around a bit and maybe figure out where things are.” Matthew answered. “I still can’t believe we’re on a cruise ship. I mean, everything is so large. It’s nothing like I expected.”

“I know exactly what you mean. I looked at some photos on the cruise line’s website and watched a video, but it’s still so much more than I expected.”

Neil sipped his coffee and continued. “I was planning on exploring a bit, too. Maybe we could check things out together? Might keep us from getting too lost.”

“That’s a great idea,” Matthew effused. “I gotta admit, it seemed a bit overwhelming to try and discover things all on my own.”

“If you remember correctly, before we left on this trip, we cruise virgins agreed to stick together,” Neil smiled brightly. “We’ve got this.”
​
The thought of spending at least part of the day with Matthew made everything seem a bit brighter.

About the Author

R.J. Peterson is a retired graphic designer. He is an avid reader, preferably while sipping a vodka martini or bourbon on the rocks. He's had a long and varied career, including library page, car wash attendant, travel agent, and graphic designer in the marijuana industry. He also worked in banking for twenty-five years. He loves to travel and has been on 50+ cruises. When not on a cruise, he and his husband live in New England.

He didn’t grow up thinking he’d be a writer. That was never on his radar. Then a fateful day in January, 2021 changed it all. He woke with a story stuck in his head and started typing. The more he types, the more ideas he gets.

His debut novel, Love On The Horizon, was published in May 2021.

Connect with RJ Peterson

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I’m so happy to be part of Gay Book Promotions blog tour celebrating the release of the wonderful feelgood Christmas story A Gift-Wrapped Holiday by Amy Aislin! Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for chance to win your own signed paperbook copy!

Blurb

​Mal’s first priority is giving his six-year-old son the best Christmas ever, a goal made trickier by a recent move to New England after losing his job. As a single dad, he’s not looking for romance—especially not with a blond California boy ten years his junior.

After being ridiculed at the family business, Luca sets out to prove himself by opening an eco-friendly gift-wrapping store in a small town with a hard-on for Christmas that’s about as far from LA as he can get. Out of his comfort zone in snowy Maine, love is the last thing on his mind.

But the magic of the season has other ideas. As Mal and Luca collide on wintery streets, will they let their first Christmas in Lighthouse Bay lead to happily ever after?

Content warning: stillbirth. Although it took place off-page and in the past, it is discussed on-page.

Excerpt 

Mal slowed at the bottom of a driveway and nodded at the house. “This is me.” 

“I was wondering who lived here,” Luca said, taking in the house’s boxy structure. 

“Why? Because it’s hideous?” 

That startled a laugh out of Luca. “Well . . . yes. It doesn’t match the rest of the houses.” The area just west of Christmas Lane housed Lighthouse Bay’s historic homes, but this modern construction was decidedly not historic. Luca had passed it a couple of times on his evening gift deliveries and wondered what the owner had been thinking. “Why’d you buy it if you don’t like it?” 

“I’m not. I’m leasing.” 

Even so, Mal had gone all out with the decorations. Icicle lights hanging from the roof, flashing multicolored lights framed around each window, static white lights around a nine-foot-tall pine tree, and a lit-up reindeer family. He even had some sort of spotlights buried somewhere in the yard that swirled red and green snowflakes on the house in an unidentifiable pattern. 

“Which is probably another reason I haven’t unpacked,” Mal continued. “I hate this place.” 

“Why lease it, then?” 

Mal blew out a breath that ghosted the air in front of him. “The short version is that I was in a rush.” 

“And the long version?” 

“The long version is something I’ll have to give you another time.” 

Luca glanced at Otis. “I think he’s asleep.” 

“Bet he gets a second wind as soon as I walk in the door.” Mal’s voice was a disgruntled grumble that Luca shouldn’t have found as charming as he did.

“Thanks for walking us home.” 

“Thanks for letting me. I like talking to you.” 

Mal’s smile went lopsided. “I like talking to you too. Still want to do it again sometime? I promise not to feed you ice cream while it’s below freezing outside. Real food only. Scout’s honor.” 

Luca’s armpits went damp despite the winter weather, and butterflies took flight in his belly. He dug his toe into the sidewalk. “You must really want to date me if you’ve asked me out twice in one week.” 

“Or I just want an adult to talk to for once,” Mal said, a teasing tilt to his smile. 

Luca stuck his tongue in his cheek and backed down the driveway, keeping his gaze on Mal’s. “Or maybe you like me.” 

“Damn. And here I thought I wasn’t being obvious at all.” 

The butterflies floated into Luca’s throat. “Text me?” 

“I will.” The darkness enveloped Mal as he moved away from the sidewalk and into the shadow of the house, but Luca could still see the quirk to his lips. “Good night, Luca.” 

“Night, Mal.” 

​Luca watched Mal and Otis head inside, waved at Mal through the glass-fronted door, then turned toward his own home only a couple blocks away, an extra bounce to his steps. 

This was such a wonderful feelgood story with all the right Christmassy ingredients; Christmas markets, charity tournaments, hot chocolate, gift-wrapping, family celebrations and of course, a truly sweet and heartwarming love story. Great fleshed-out and relatable characters, with a wonderful small town community. Very low on angst, but full of warmth, forgiveness, redemption and kindness. Highly recommended for anyone who wants to get into the Christmas spirit and read a book that will warm your heart and make you smile!

You can find my full review here: A Gift-Wrapped Holiday by Amy Aislin 

​About the Author 

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

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

Connect with Amy Aislin

Website • Facebook Group • Facebook Profile • Instagram • Newsletter sign-up

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I’m so happy to be a part of Xpresso Book Tours blitz for the dazzling and evocative romance Maybe in Monaco by Kaya Quinsey Holt! Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for chance to win your own ebook copy!

Synopsis

Immerse yourself in the dazzling world of best-selling author Kaya Quinsey Holt’s in this evocative romance full of “unrest, deceit, and heartbreak in one of Europe’s most spectacular places” (Readers Favorite).
 
Charlotte Levant left Monaco ten years ago in order to allow the man she loved to pursue his dream but she left with more than a broken heart. Only a select few knew that she gave up her baby. Facing a personal crisis, Charlotte returns to Monaco, thinking she can quietly sneak back without a fuss. But it’s hard to keep a secret in Monaco.
 
For recently retired Formula One driver Freddie Ridgeport, losing Charlotte was more painful than a car crash, but he quickly found company among his fans. Now back in Monaco, the responsibility of caring for nine-year-old Nicholas has been thrust upon him after he is unexpectedly named as the legal guardian in a will.
 
Will fate finally reunite these star-crossed lovers? And if so, can the truth make up for a ten-year-long secret that runs deeper than the adjacent Mediterranean sea?

Book trailer

Excerpt
 
“So, where are you visiting from?” the taxi driver asked, turning briefly to look at her.

Charlotte smiled. “Manhattan.” The driver returned his attention to the road. New York City was another world, Charlotte mused as the car performed a hot lap past the Monte Carlo Casino. A throng of tourists with cameras crossed in front of the taxi, slowing all of the traffic behind it. Perhaps the two cities had some similarities, Charlotte thought.

Today, the body of water and anonymity that protected Charlotte was 4,000 miles away.

Charlotte was a French teacher at a private school on the Upper East Side, where she put her New York University education to use. Ample time, money, and effort were spent on rebuilding her life—an accomplishment she previously thought unimaginable. What Charlotte accomplished in those ten years astonished her and her grandmother. 

In Manhattan, Charlotte cultivated a refined and private image. She socialized vigilantly, and her acquaintances consisted mainly of private school colleagues. Though she scarcely noticed, Charlotte was admired and desired by many. Charlotte enticed people with her softness, attentiveness in conversations (aided by her social media avoidance), adoration for anything vintage, and passion for French impressionist art. However, Charlotte’s romantic affairs were often cut short, and she developed a reputation for fleeing when relationships threatened to become too serious or prodding.

The men who courted Charlotte inevitably crashed into the walls that guarded her. Privacy was Charlotte’s priority, and the less that people knew about her, the better. She feared the discovery of her imperfections, which lurked beneath every layer.

Charlotte preferred blending in to standing out. As usual, she was dressed in simple, high-quality items, which she—or her relatives—had owned for years. Her haphazardly-piled, classic travel bags were passed down from Charlotte’s late mother, and her antique camera and matching leather bag belonged to her late father. 

Contrary to her intention, Charlotte’s subtleties spawned second glances. Strangers couldn’t help noticing the authentic glamour of her well-worn Hermes handbag, slightly upturned nose, chestnut blunt cut grazing her freckled collarbones, and sparkling eyes that never gave anything away. 

Slowly, Charlotte’s destination crept into sight. Le Soleil was a luxury condominium with coastal views of the Côte d'Azur. Charlotte dreaded stepping out of the car, and wondered if returning was a dire mistake. “Monaco is my home,” she silently repeated, as she promised herself she would. 

The driver slowed to a stop, and carefully unloaded the aged Keepalls onto the unblemished cobblestone. 

Charlotte remained still for a few more moments, summoning enough willpower to open the door. Once she touched her feet to the ground, the truth would land. She was in Monaco.

The trunk of the cab shut with a thud that rocked the whole vehicle. Taking a few deep breaths, Charlotte opened the door and set one ballet flat onto the pavement. She was home.

The suitcases appeared smaller and fewer to Charlotte when she left Manhattan. The driver gawked at the mountain of luggage that now blocked the sidewalk. 

“That’s everything,” Charlotte lied, for the driver knew not of her heaviest baggage, smuggled into Monaco upon her freckle-dusted shoulders.

Charlotte paid the driver and watched as the car faded into a sea of traffic. She glanced helplessly at the unattended concierge desk and sighed. Keeping a watchful eye on her remaining belongings, Charlotte hauled her luggage into the air-conditioned lobby. She was no stranger to strenuous labor, but her arms ached and her breath grew heavier with each bag.

Ten years since she stepped foot on that cobblestone sidewalk. Ten years since she left the country—and the person—she loved. Ten years since she fled with two hearts beating inside of her. Ten years, and she was still wondering if she made the right decision. Ten years, she kept a secret.
​
But it was very hard to keep a secret in Monaco.

Connect with Kaya Quinsey Holt

Author website • Twitter • Pinterest • Instagram • BookBub • Goodreads

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I’m so happy to be part of Gay Book Promotions blog tour celebrating the release of the adorable Hockey Ever After series! Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for chance to win a $10 Amazon gift card!

Falling for his teammate wasn’t in the game plan….
 
Winging It (book 1) blurb 

Hockey is Gabe Martin's life. Dante Baltierra just wants to have some fun on his way to the Hockey Hall of Fame. Falling for a teammate isn't in either game plan.
But plans change.

When Gabe gets outed, it turns his careful life upside-down. The chaos messes with his game and sends his team headlong into a losing streak. The last person he expects to pull him through it is Dante.

This season isn’t going the way Dante thought it would. Gabe’s sexuality doesn’t faze him, but his own does. Dante’s always been a “what you see is what you get” kind of guy, and having to hide his attraction to Gabe sucks. But so does losing, and his teammate needs him, so he puts in the effort to snap Gabe out of his funk.
He doesn’t mean to fall in love with the guy.

Getting involved with a teammate is a bad idea, but Dante is shameless, funny, and brilliant at hockey. Gabe can’t resist. Unfortunately, he struggles to share part of himself that he’s hidden for years, and Dante chafes at hiding their relationship. Can they find their feet before the ice slips out from under them?

Excerpt from Winging It

Dante waited in the lobby, curled into a chair that wasn’t quite big enough to be comfortable. He kept his back to the flow of people and his nose buried in his phone. Any other night, sure, he would be happy to sign autographs. Tonight… his brain was going to endlessly replay the scene he’d just walked in on.

How had he not known Gabe was into men? It seemed obvious now. Of course he never picked women up in bars or brought a girlfriend to a team event. Dante felt stupid for not noticing. 

Somehow Dante had stumbled onto a huge secret.

And now he had to work out what to do about it.

First, though, apparently he was going to think about Gabe’s broad palm on his partner’s chest. Gabe was a big guy—two inches taller than Dante, even if Dante was more solidly built. His partner had been clinging to Gabe’s muscular shoulder.
He should stop thinking about it, but his brain was trying to fill in details. Where had Gabe’s other hand been? Had it been placed on his partner’s thigh? Had he been putting his weight on it to steady himself? Or maybe he’d used it to tilt the man’s face to the right angle.

Dante exhaled sharply. This was really, really not his business. Dwelling on it would not do him any favors. He needed to pretend everything was normal. And obsessing about your teammate feeling up some guy—and kissing, can’t forget the kissing—was not that.

So. Normal. He’d been sexiled by a roommate. That was fine! It had happened before. Today, actually. He hoped Yorkie was having a better night than Gabe.

Most importantly, sexiling was normal.

Was it hot in here?

Footsteps jarred him out of his spiral, and he looked up to see Gabe walking toward him, head down, shoulders hunched. He didn’t exactly have the look of the freshly laid about him.

Fuck.

Or, like, probably not.

Gabe dropped into the chair across from him. He was loudly projecting that he would rather stand in front of fifty of Kitty’s slap shots than have this conversation.
At least they were on even footing in that respect.

Dante put his phone away. “So, uh, sorry for cockblocking you.” Even if it’s kind of your fault. Who doesn’t use the Do Not Disturb sign? Why didn’t you tell me to pound rocks when I asked to share?

Considering the circumstances, he kept a lid on these criticisms. He could bring them up later, when Gabe didn’t look like he was about to puke all over the hotel lobby.

“I wasn’t expecting it to be a problem,” Gabe said. He slumped farther, but Dante thought his shoulders were relaxing too. “Did you strike out or something?”

“Sort of. We passed her ex on the way back to her place and she made it like ten more feet before she burst into tears. So we stopped at Dairy Queen for ice cream, and then she went to the bathroom and fixed her makeup and we took a selfie for her Instagram, and I came back here.”

The color returned to Gabe’s face and he met Dante’s gaze for the first time since that hideously awkward moment upstairs. “Guess neither of us is getting laid tonight,” he said, a little tentatively, like he wasn’t sure Dante would laugh.

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” 

“Deal,” Gabe said. The lines of tension in his face disappeared under a relieved half smile.

Good. Dante was glad they’d settled that. “Great.” He yawned. “So can we go upstairs now? I’ve had just enough booze and ice cream to make me sleepy.”

When they got up to the hotel room, Dante said, “I wish you’d told me you liked guys.” His shoes thunked dully against the wall as he kicked them off. “I wouldn’t have tried so hard to hook you up with chicks last season.” Or last week.

Gabe stared at Dante’s shoes. Then he lined his own up neatly under the desk. “It’s not something I advertise.”

“No shit.” Dante shimmied out of his jeans. 

After a beat, Gabe said, “You’re being really cool about this.”

Dante sat in the desk chair. He had a habit of saying the first thing that came to mind, and right now that was Actually, I’m kind of freaking out. He needed to take his time. “I mean, obviously I’m not mad or upset or whatever. I’m—accepting? Ugh, that’s a garbage word.” He huffed, frustrated with himself. “Look, you’re… gay?”

The muscle at the hinge of Gabe’s jaw bunched. “Yeah.” 

“Cool.” He drummed the fingers of his left hand on the desktop, realized he was doing it, and forced himself to stop. “And obviously if you haven’t told the team, you’re expecting some of them to be assholes. And that sucks. Because as far as I’m concerned, my reaction? Is, like, a pretty low bar.”

Gabe rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s not like you could come in and introduce yourself.”

If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. Dante was losing his grip on reality. “Yeah, maybe not. You mind if I shower now? I stink like dance club.”

“Sure. I’m just gonna….” Gabe picked up the television remote.

The television came on, and a moment later Dante closed the bathroom door behind him and started the water. Mechanically, he removed his clothes and stepped under the spray. The hot water sluiced over him, washing away the sweat and club grime and what had maybe been just a little too much hair gel.

But the image of Gabe kissing another man on the bed in their hotel room stuck with him, and now, in relative privacy and naked, alone with his thoughts, Dante was forced to confront the truth of his own semi.
​
“I did not see this coming,” he muttered as he reached for his shampoo.

You miss 100 percent of the shots you don’t take.

Scoring Position (book 2) blurb 

Ryan Wright’s new hockey team is a dumpster fire. He expects to lose games—not his heart.

Ryan’s laid-back attitude should be an advantage in Indianapolis. Even if he doesn’t accomplish much on the ice, he can help his burned-out teammates off it. And no one needs a friend—or a hug—more than Nico Kirschbaum, the team’s struggling would-be superstar.

Nico doesn’t appreciate that management traded for another openly gay player and told them to make friends. Maybe he doesn’t know what his problem is, but he’ll solve it with hard work, not by bonding with the class clown.

It’s obvious to Ryan that Nico’s lonely, gifted, and cracking under pressure. No amount of physical practice will fix his mental game. But convincing Nico to let Ryan help means getting closer than is wise for Ryan’s heart—especially once he unearths Nico’s sense of humor.

Will Nico and Ryan risk making a pass, or will they keep missing 100 percent of the shots they don’t take?

This was such a wonderful and sweet mm hockey romance series, with the perfect amount of steam and lovable main characters with an absolutely sizzling chemistry! This series truly warmed my heart!

You can find my reviews of both books here: The Hockey Ever After Series by Ashlyn Kane and Morgan James

​About the Authors

As an adult, she received a starred review in Publishers Weekly for her novel Fake Dating the Prince. There were quite a few years in the middle there, but who’s counting? 

Her hobbies include DIY home decor, container gardening (no pulling weeds), music, and spending time with her enormous chocolate lapdog. She is the fortunate wife of a wonderful man, the daughter of two sets of great parents, and the proud older sister/sister-in-law of the world’s biggest nerds.

Morgan James is a clueless (older) millennial who’s still trying to figure out what they’ll be when they grow up and enjoying the journey to get there. Now, with a couple of degrees, a few stints in Europe, and more than one false start to a career, they eagerly wait to see what’s next. James started writing fiction before they could spell and wrote their first (unpublished) novel in middle school. They haven’t stopped writing since. Geek, artist, archer, and fanatic, Morgan tends to pass their free hours with in imaginary worlds and people on pages and screens—it’s an addiction. As is their love of coffee and tea. They live in Canada with their massive collection of unread books, where they are the personal servant of too many four-legged creatures.

Connect with Ashlyn Kane

Blog/Website • Facebook Group • Facebook Profile • Twitter • Newsletter sign-up • BookBub

Get your own copy of Winging It
 
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Get your own copy of Scoring Position

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I’m so happy to be part of Gay Book Promotions blog tour celebrating the release of Life is Good and Other Lies by Magdalena Di Sotru and Sophia Soames - a contemporary M/M romance with one MC being an FTM Transman.

Blurb

This is not a romance. This is what happens when life goes on, when people grow and fall out of sync. Not out of love; some people are just meant to be.

Thomas at least hopes that is the case, even though he sometimes feels like he’s clinging to his marriage by a brittle thread.

Frank clutches to the scraps that are left, knowing he’s the root cause of Thomas’ grey hairs, their kids being hormonal monsters and his own sanity being questionable at the best of times.

Gabriel needs to stop worrying and take control of his life, but with young kids and a body that refuses to do what it’s supposed to do—to sustain and nourish and build muscle to keep bones in place—his feels like a traitor, laughing in his face when he struggles to keep it together. He knows he is loved. His kids are everything. But his marriage feels like a distant memory, and he’s tumbling from one disaster into another. It’s just…life.

Bruno thought this holiday would bring them closer together as a family. Isn’t that what a trip abroad is supposed to do? Four weeks in the Swedish mosquito-infested countryside, sharing a farm with strangers. He should have known better.
Life is good. But the rest? Lies. All lies.

This is the first of two books following a lifelong friendship between two families. A slice of life from two established M/M couples, children galore, stray sheep, heat, sizzle and laughter, this is what happens after the HEA.

The second book, Life is Right Here will be published in December 2022.

Excerpt

“You know, Thomas, there’s no need to feel jealous,” Bruno said softly.

“I’m not.” Thomas laughed again, but it sounded fake. Hollow.

“Well, I am.” Bruno admitted with a touch of cockiness. “I’m fucking raging that he can talk to Frank, this dude he’s just met, about things he struggles to talk to me about. He should be talking to me. Shouldn’t he?”

“You just said I shouldn’t feel jealous!” Thomas almost shrieked, gripping the worktop until the wood creaked under his knuckles.

Bruno grinned. Classic psychology. Worked every time.

“You are jealous, and that’s the way it should be. You have a very, very handsome husband who loves you to the point that he can barely see through the love haze the two of you have going on. Frank adores you. You just don’t always see it, but that doesn’t mean he can’t talk to other people, have close friends, talk about things that he might not be able to talk to you about. It’s healthy and normal.”

“Bloody doctors, you’re all the same, talking a load of crap.” Thomas was smiling underneath the stiff pose he was still holding. Thank God.

“Yup, it’s all textbook doctor bullshit, mate.” Bruno laughed. “And I wasn’t lying about being jealous. But why would Gabriel even look twice at some random Norwegian dude when he has all this prime Italian quality stud at home?” He slapped his chest like some ridiculous alpha male, and Thomas chuckled and shook his head.

“You’re such an idiot.”

“I know.” Bruno smiled, taking a step forward so he could pat Thomas’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t make it a week without Gabriel. He keeps me going, sorts me out. Puts me to bed at night and gets me up in the morning. Without him, I would probably be dead.”

“Did you ever suffer from…you know. Stuff? Do you get it all? Like, do you understand Gabriel?”

“Let me tell you something.” He took a deep breath because this wasn’t something he’d ever talked about, and he didn’t know why he suddenly felt like sharing. “I don’t understand much, and let me tell you, I’ve spent years specialising in the human body and mind. Personally, I’ve made some horrible mistakes, huge mistakes, and there are things I’ve done that I will always, always regret. I still struggle to grasp how the human brain works. I learn new stuff every day. But I understand depression. I understand losing control of your mind, and you do too. I bet you’ve stood at the edge of a cliff in your head and wondered what it would be like to jump. I know I have. I’ve wobbled and struggled and bloody lost my mind more than once, but the difference between you and me and Frank and Gabriel…”

“Yeah?”

“There is no difference. We’re all human. It’s just our brains are wired differently. We still live, eat, sleep, fall in love, have families and die when our time is complete. Some of us have to try a little harder. Some of us struggle a little more. Fall a little harder and cry a little longer. Struggle to swim against the undercurrent, while the rest of the world seems to go with the flow. It doesn’t make us less human or worth less than anyone else.”

It was nice to see Thomas smile, despite his shoulders sagging and the way he shook his head like Bruno was talking nonsense.
​
“Seriously, dude. Don’t be jealous. Don’t create drama where there is none. Let Frank and Gabriel have this. They need it. Well, I hardly know Frank, but Gabriel does. We’re just a bunch of messed-up gay men on holiday. Take it for what it is. Nothing more.”

This was quite a unique story - not a romance as such, and not very romantic at all - but rather a story about what happens to a relationship when everyday life takes its toll on the big epic romance. It was beautiful, honest, heartwarming and so very realistic.

Read my full review here: Life is Good and Other Lies by Magdalena di Sotru and Sophia Soames

About the authors

Sophia Soames 
Sophia should be old enough to know better but has barely grown up. She has been known to fangirl over TV shows, has fallen in and out of love with more popstars than she dares to remember, and has a ridiculously high-flying (un-)glamourous real-life job.

Her long-suffering husband just laughs at her antics. Their children are feral. The dogs are too.

She lives in a creaky old house in rural London, although her heart is still in her native Scandinavia.

Discovering that the stories in her head make sense when written down has been part of the most hilarious midlife crisis ever, and she hopes it may long continue.

Connect with Sophia Soames here: Link Tree • Newsletter Sign-up  •  TikTok  •  Facebook readers group 

Magdalena Di Sotru
Magdalena is an information security and data protection enthusiast from Norway. She is a mother of two and wife of one as well as a long-established fanfic writer. Her favourite food is (actually) salads (without mayo), her favourite guilty pleasure is fresh bakery goods (and that explains why everyone would think the salad was a lie). She knows her way around knitting, lock picking and skydiving (all at about equal skill levels – go figure). Life is Good and Other Lies is her first novel.

Follow Magdalena di Sotru on Facebook.

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Today I’m excited to share a stop in the Promo Tour for Entangled With An Elf Prince by Amanda Ferreira! Enter the Bookstagram Giveaway hosted by MTMC Tours to win a $25USD Amazon gift card!

Blurb:

There’s a reason monster hunters are rarely human.

Immune to the mists that flood the woods every night, Keenyn is a dark elf prince with exactly one fear — that he’ll stray too far from his demi-god partner, Bren, and lose him to the curse.

After all, Keenyn’s seen what’s beneath that suit of armor. In detail. And if he ignores his best friend’s perfect body, god-like strength, and endless stamina, it’s obvious that Bren is just a man, as likely to die in the mists as any other.

Now, if only Keenyn’​s ability to ignore things was foolproof...

Entangled With An Elf Prince is an adult standalone M/M fantasy romance novella perfect for fans of Ariana Nash, C.S. Pacat, Jennifer L. Armentrout, and Madeline Miller. Expect some spicy (18+) sexual situations and gore.