Happy Book Birthday to Sailor Proof by Annabeth Albert! I’m so happy and honored to be a part of the Carina Adores Blog Tour celebrating this sweet, light-hearted, low angst, fake-dating M/M romance!

Sailor Proof by Annabeth Albert is available in trade paperback, eBook and audiobook on September 28th!
 
The sexy Navy chief and his best friend’s adorkable little brother…
 
It’s petty, but Naval Chief Derrick Fox wishes he could exact a little revenge on his ex by showing off a rebound fling. His submarine is due to return to its Bremerton, Washington, home base soon and Derrick knows all too well there won't be anyone waiting with a big, showy welcome.
 
Enter one ill-advised plan…
 
Arthur Euler is the guy you go to in a pinch—he's excellent at out-of-the-box solutions. It's what the genius music-slash-computer nerd is known for. So when he finds out Derrick needs a favor, he’s happy to help. He can muster the sort of welcome a Naval Chief deserves, no problem at all.
 
Except it is a problem. A very big problem.
 
When Arthur’s homecoming welcome is a little too convincing, when a video of their gangplank smooch goes enormously viral, they're caught between a dock and a hard place. Neither of them ever expected a temporary fake relationship to look—or feel—so real. And Arthur certainly never considered he'd be fighting for a very much not-fake forever with a military man.

Excerpt

Derrick

Arthur turned out hot. That was my first thought when I spotted him after I heard my name called. Derrick. My actual name, not Fox, not Chief, and outside of Calder a couple of times, I hadn’t heard that name in months. And definitely not like that, all eager and excited and happy. On the sub, hearing my name inevitably meant that someone needed something right that minute, but the way Arthur said it didn’t inspire dread at all.

I’d already been caught up in the energy of the day. Homecoming day was always exciting, even if I didn’t usually have someone waiting. The whole crew was jostling about, getting into our dress whites, making sure everything from our cover to the chest candy of ribbons and medals to the gig line was perfectly straight. Getting chosen to be on deck as we came into port was an honor, one that I usually let others, especially those with kids, fight over, since there was still plenty to do belowdecks in preparation and support. As the chief sonar tech, I was responsible for working with the A-gangers from engineering and the operations department to help navigate us in. Adrenaline was contagious, and by the time my department was cleared to disembark, I had enough energy to rival the reactor that powered the sub.

And then I heard my name.

I recognized Arthur’s red hair right away. But the rest…

Wow. Arthur had grown hot. Still shorter than me and skinnier, but wiry now, each lean muscle defined under a thin white shirt and tight jeans. No signs of his ever-present too-big nerd-humor tees. Same startling green eyes as before, though, and a new, more chiseled jaw sporting the perfect amount of fuzz. He’d grown into his long regal nose, and the hair that had seemed to have a life of its own when he’d been a teen was sculpted now, this perfectly styled wave that made me want to mess it up. His hands, which had always seemed too big for the rest of him, were clutching a giant sign.

For me.

And for a second—a literal instant when our eyes met and time stopped—I forgot it wasn’t real. And in that moment, I wanted it to be. Someone smiling that broadly for me. Had Steve ever been so happy to see me? Hell, I wasn’t even sure the poodle my grandmother had let me keep had been that happy. Arthur just radiated pure joy. The kid was one hell of an actor.

“Welcome home.” Even his voice was different. Deeper. Sexier.

“Hey,” I said because I was simply that brilliant at conver­sation. I reached an arm out, instinctively going for a hand­shake, but Arthur shifted his sign and met me partway, coming in for a hug.

A really tight hug.

Damn, he felt good. Amazing really. Solid muscle against me, hair tickling my nose, exactly as silky as it looked, strong arms able to haul me in and hold me tight. He smelled like mint and green tea, two things in short supply on a boat that tended to smell like old socks on a good day. Sweet. I inhaled deeply as his lips brushed my ear.

“Calder said to kiss you,” he whispered. “And I want to. But you gotta tell me you’re good with that first.”

Was I good with that? Hot guy who smelled like a concoction I wanted to drink every day for a month wanted to kiss me. And ordinarily, the friendship code would put Arthur far, far off-limits, but here was Calder telling us to kiss. It was a free pass, the sort I’d be a fool to turn down.

I wasn’t a fool.

And what harm could a peck do?

“Yeah.” My voice was a rough whisper, and I didn’t have a chance to brace myself before Arthur was sliding his mouth over from my ear to mouth. A double shot of tequila would have had less punch than the first brush of contact.
And okay, not a peck.

We were kissing. Arthur and I, which should have been weird but somehow wasn’t. At all. Someone whooped behind us, but almost all of my attention was riveted on Arthur, like I was on watch and every sense was heightened lest I miss something vital.

Like how soft his lips were. Full too. Or the bristle of his scruff against my cheek. I’d done a submarine shave that morn­ing, not my best job, but close enough that the rasp of beard felt electric. Our chests were pressed so tightly that I could feel his heart pounding. Or maybe that was mine, blood zooming to places that had been in deep freeze for months.

“Wow.” Arthur pulled back, leaving me dazed and still clinging to him.

“Damn.” The statuesque purple-haired woman he’d been standing with laughed loudly and thumped Arthur’s shoul­der. “Is that the best you can do? Your man has been at sea how many months?”

Your man. If only. If he were actually mine, we’d be racing across base, a mad dash to find a room with a door. But he wasn’t and all we’d ever have was this moment. A potent mix of want and resolve raced through me as suddenly I was determined to make this count.

I pulled him back to me, and this time when our mouths collided, I was ready. Ready to taste. Ready to absorb every single detail. Ready to seize control and kiss like the world might be ending.

And it could have. Not sure I would have noticed. Everything faded away. The crowd. The docks. The balloons Arthur had been clutching and his sign both as his strong hands clung to my shoulders as we kissed in earnest. He tasted like he smelled, sweet and minty, and his tongue against mine was like floodlights coming on.

“Welcome home,” Arthur breathed against my mouth as the sound of applause gradually pulled me back into awareness of our surroundings. Applause. Whoops of laughter. Clicking cameras. But still I couldn’t seem to look away from him.

Review

This first book in the Shore Leaves was such a sweet, light-hearted, low angst, fake-dating mm romance between a submarine chief and an adorkable musician, with some of my favorite tropes; fake-dating, opposites attract and falling for best friend’s younger sibling.

Read my full review here: Sailor Proof

​Sailor Proof by Annabeth Albert is available in trade paperback, eBook and audiobook on September 28th!

Happy release day to By the Blood of Rowans by Xan Van Rooyen! Today is my stop on the MCMT Tours celebrating this lush, queer YA fantasy for fans of Anna-Marie McLemore and Maggie Stiefvater. Enter the Bookstagram Giveaway to win an ebook copy of By the Blood of Rowans and I Heart Robot by Xan van Rooyen!

Synopsis

The Sheehy witches are the most feared and detested family on the island of Inisliath, and none more so than Rowan.
 
As a deathwalker, Rowan ferries island souls to the Otherworld, experiencing their deaths and carrying their memories like ghosts within him. It’s a fated role he accepts even as it inexorably destroys him.
 
When the magic on the island starts to seep away from the other founding families, everyone blames the Sheehys—especially when islanders start dying.
 
Ash is sick of their father’s fists and constantly having to apologize for who they are. Life on Inisliath might be the fresh start Ash and their mum need, and meeting soft-spoken, curly-haired Rowan feels like the ray of sunshine Ash has desperately needed—but everything goes sideways when Ash’s mum becomes lead detective on a series of ritualistic murders allegedly tied to island magic, and Ash’s family history.
 
The islanders are convinced Rowan is guilty, but Ash refuses to believe it. When Ash does some investigating of their own, they discover Rowan is far more likely to be the next victim. With time running out to save Rowan, Ash will have to choose between a life free of their father or the boy they’re starting to love. Meanwhile Rowan will have to decide just how much he’s willing to sacrifice to save his family from the darkness about to be unleashed on the island.

In this lush, queer YA fantasy the Sheehy witches are the most feared and detested family on the island of Inisliath, and none more so than Rowan. As a deathwalker, Rowan ferries island souls to the Otherworld, but when the magic on the island starts to seep away from the other founding families, everyone blames the Sheehys—especially when islanders start dying.

Full review to come!

​Enter the Bookstagram Giveaway to win an ebook copy of By the Blood of Rowans and I Heart Robot by Xan van Rooyen!

Synopsis
 
Leroy Madden is in trouble. Big, handsome, Fox Carmody trouble.
 
Leroy has buried his attraction to the enigmatic fisherman in irritation and pointless bickering, keeping Fox at a safe distance. But with the troublesome man now living in Leroy’s house, it’s becoming impossible for Leroy to keep his true feelings hidden, or the fact that Leroy isn’t so straight, after all.
 
Leroy hungers for something different between them. He wants more. But Leroy’s business is struggling, his newly mended relationship with his brother is at risk, Fox doesn’t plan to stay, and their mothers are lovers.
 
Regardless of what Leroy’s heart so desperately wants, his entire world is at stake, and nothing about a relationship with Fox Carmody was ever going to be easy.

Excerpt
 
I stole a sideways glance to where Fox lounged in the passenger seat of my Hilux, his interested gaze soaking up the countryside. The worst of the Monday morning traffic was behind us and the driving was easy, not that you’d know it by my white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.
 
Sister Sledge streamed through the speakers, Fox’s fingers tapping away on one thickly muscled thigh wrapped in tight stonewashed denim. A fashionable rip mocked me from just above the knee, revealing the faintest glimpse of tanned skin and short dark hair, not that I was looking.
 
Yeah, right. I was soaking that shit up like sugar in hot coffee.
 
The universe was definitely fucking with me. Well, that and my mother who’d arrived for Sunday lunch with a surprisingly edible peach cobbler and what she called the ‘best idea ever’ for me to give Fox a lift into Whangarei the next day since I was already going. He wanted to check out some boats, but his car was still waiting on parts.
 
Fucking wonderful. Why he couldn’t wait for his own vehicle to be fixed wasn’t a question I was prepared to ask based on my mother’s I-dare-you look. I’d caved and agreed.
 
I could’ve killed her. And by the constipated look on Fox’s face at her suggestion, I was pretty sure he felt the same. It had been a long, long weekend and entirely my own damn fault. Other than forced interaction at work, rugby training, and Sunday lunch, I’d avoided Fox at all costs, and he’d been good enough to play along and pretend he hadn’t noticed, other than a notable drop in temperature whenever he looked my way. I could hardly blame him for that. If only he knew that my epic arseholery stemmed from lust and not disgust.
 
And the Academy Award for epically fucking yourself goes to . . . yeah. Enough said.
 
Note to self: don’t get tipsy around the guy. Without the benefit of way too many beers, we wouldn’t have talked and got all chummy on the deck, and I wouldn’t have realised that I maybe, actually liked the bastard, not just wanted to kiss him, or touch him, or have him touch me, or . . . goddammit, wait for the drum roll—fuck me.
 
I swallowed hard. Me fucking him would, of course, be marginally more acceptable to my brain, but who was I kidding? I’d spent the entire weekend thinking, fantasising, googling, watching, and yep, definitely him fucking me. Good God, the sooner he was out of my house the better. Still, it sounded like it wouldn’t take much to get him to shift back down south, so I could only hope.
 
“You okay, Leroy?”
 
My gaze jerked his way. “Fine. I’m absolutely fine,” I lied, because no, I didn’t want to go there, or talk about it, or think about it, or do anything other than bury it as unsuccessfully as I’d done for the last five days, make that a year—my, doesn’t time fly—because I’m chickenshit as all hell and my life is a fucking shitshow of irony.
 
Why now?
 
Why him?
 
Why . . . this?
 
Bisexual. I’d even practised saying it in front of the mirror, barely able to spit the word out as it sat huge and sour on my tongue. It wasn’t that I hated the man-on-man part, because I was clearly on board with that in so very many, many Fox-shaped, lickable ways. It was more that the admission held an extremely unflattering mirror up to the jerk hypocrite that I’d been, and very likely still was, my entire life.
 
Whoever said sexuality was a choice, I needed that fucker’s address and a suitably sized cactus to shove where the sun don’t shine.
 
My head had been buried so far in the sand for so long that I had grit coming out my arse, and that shit had to stop. After my appalling behaviour in the kitchen, I’d sulked and pondered long and hard over the weekend and gotten more than my money’s worth from my broadband provider. It all came with an uncomfortable realisation. The infatuation I had with Fox wasn’t going anywhere, and that meant either making myself and everyone around me miserable or pulling it into the light and stop running. How had I completely missed this rather critical aspect of my nature?

And then it occurred to me, maybe I hadn’t. I had the pieces, but nothing or no one had caused them to fall into place, until Fox.

About the author

Heart, humour and keeping it real.
 
Jay is a 2020 Lambda Literary Award Finalist in Gay Romance and her book Off Balance was the 2021 New Zealand Romance Book of the Year.

She is a New Zealand author writing mm romance and romantic suspense, primarily set in New Zealand. She writes character driven romances with lots of humour, a good dose of reality and a splash of angst. She's travelled extensively, lived in many countries, and in a past life she was a critical care nurse, nurse educator and counsellor. Jay is owned by a huge Maine Coon cat and a gorgeous Cocker Spaniel

Connect with her here: Find Jay in all the places

Get your own copy of On Board

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Giveaway

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win a $25 Amazon gift card!

Gay Book Promotions is hosting a LGBT Romance Giveaway of 41 separate stories from 30 authors. Claim your free books from some of the registered authors of the GRL 2021 Retreat here!

The giveaway runs from September 1 - October 31 with stories that are written by authors attending the GRL Retreat, the must-attend event for people who create and celebrate LGBTQ romance. If you love gay romance, you’ve come to the right place! This is an amazing opportunity to discover new authors, new books, and new series—and find new favorites!

The stories have various themes, tropes and heat ratings, including contemporary, paranormal, mystery, fantasy, shifter, historical, sports...

​While all of the authors with stories in the giveaway will be attending the GRL Retreat 2021, there may also be additional authors who were unable to participate. Here is a list of the participating authors:

AJ Sherwood • Andrea Hughes • Anna Kensing • Beth Bolden (already one of my favorite authors) • BL Maxwell • Charity Parkerson • Charlene Newcomb • Debra Sutton • Drea Roman • Eden Winters • Eliot Grayson • Gail Z. Martin • Hank Edwards • Jacqueline Gray • Jamie Lynn Miller • Jenny FitzGerald • Kaje Harper • Kris Jacen • ​LA Bryce • Luna David • Merry Farmer • Miski Harris • Morgan Brice • Neil Plakcy • Nicole Dennis • Patricia Logan • Rain Carrington • Riley Long • Shane Morton • Shea Balik

Synopsis

“If the world is full of monsters, how do we know who wears the crown…”
 
Hendrix:
In the dark of the night he bared his soul, delivering a shocking event that should’ve changed everything.
 
So why in the light of day, does everything appear the same…?
 
The further I’m immersed in this world he calls the ‘elite’, the more I don’t understand. And it’s not only his world I’m afraid I’m falling for, but the Golden Crown himself as well. 
 
But Pax still has secrets. 
 
And I want him to trust me, like a flame wanting fire.
 
Because despite his world being nothing as it seems, I’m not sure I could walk away even if I wanted to. 
 
Because the truth be told, I don’t want to.
 
I want him.
 
Paxton:
In the dark of the night I revealed a truth, delivering the brutal reality of what the elite really means.
 
So why in the light of day, does everything appear the same…?
 
It’s the same cat and mouse games, and the same political, power tricks where the Golden Crown is all they see. It’s all they want to see.
 
Except for her.
 
But there are things I can’t tell her. Things I don’t think she’ll understand yet.
 
And I need her to trust me, like a fire needing flame.
 
Because despite me knowing what this world does to those who fall victim to it, I’m not sure I could walk away from Hendrix, even if I wanted to. 
 
Because the truth be told, I don’t want to.
 
I want her.

Get your own copy of Golden Crown

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Golden Crown will be released on November 25th!

Today is my stop on the Xpresso Book Tours Book Blitz for Combustible by Al Riske. Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win a $25 Amazon gift card!

Synopsis

​It’s that summer between the end of high school and the start of something else. Dean Stockton and Curt Hutton are best friends, and more often than not you can find them rowing on the Rogue River at dawn.
 
Together they experience something they will never be able to describe adequately. But then they won’t really need to. Not to each other. It’s that moment of swing when rowers find the rhythm and everything falls into place. The shell seems to lift right out of the water.
 
Enter Isabelle Smiley. She’s beautiful yet insecure, knowing yet innocent, and crazy about Curt in a way that no girl has ever been crazy about Dean. She wants Curt to choose a college closer to home than the one he and Dean have selected—and she can be persuasive.
 
“I’d never be able to hold out against a girl like Smiley,” Dean admits.
 
“Don’t say that,” Curt replies. “I told her she’d have to convince you, too.”
 
Everyone is conflicted in this story of friendship, lust, and life-changing choices. Only one thing seems certain to all of them: If Smiley strikes a match, Dean will catch fire.

Excerpt

All the Way to France
 
The Sandpiper Bar & Grill overlooks the mouth of the Rogue River, and right now the parking lot is jammed with cars. A red Mustang convertible—the top down, for this is a starlit night in June—circles slowly to the back door.

In the kitchen, the scene is a whirl of cooks, busers, and dish washers. Wearing an apron and a floppy chef’s hat, Dean cuts into a fresh cheesecake and passes a slice to the server waiting in the pantry window. Above the din, a line cook hollers--

“Stockton, you’ve got visitors out back.”
                         
Fellow pantry cook Victor Lee is shucking littleneck clams next to Dean, who says--
                         
“Cover for me, will you?”
                         
Backed into a loading zone behind the restaurant, Curt’s freshly waxed convertible couldn’t be shinier. The girl from Brookings is still seated on the passenger side; Curt opens the door for her.
                         
Dean takes off his hat as he pushes through the screen door. He runs one hand through his hair, sweaty from the heat of the kitchen, while his eyes stay glued to the girl’s legs as she climbs out of the low-slung car. Her dress—white with tiny black polka dots—rides up and he can see all the way to France. She blushes but there’s reason to believe she is more pleased than embarrassed.
                         
“Dean, I’d like you to meet Isabelle—oof!”
                         
Curt’s date removes her elbow from his rib cage. “You know I don’t like that name," she says.
                         
“Well, how am I supposed to introduce you?”
                         
She turns to Dean—“Just call me Smiley,” she says. “That’s my last name but it’s what everybody uses.”
                         
They shake hands. Hers are soft and smooth—so much so that it’s unsettling.
                         
“What’s wrong with...?”
                         
Smiley cringes, so he doesn’t say her first name. “It reminds me of my grandmother,” she says. “I was named after her, actually, but I can’t stand her. The feeling’s mutual, I’m sure.”
                         
“You don’t look like an Isabelle anyway.”
                         
“Thank you.”
                         
Only two words, but they say Dean is exactly right—and Curt is just… mean.
                         
“Busy tonight?” Curt asks.
                         
“A madhouse. But I think we’ve got it under control now. How was the show?”
                         
Curt holds his hand out flat, palm down, and tips it from side to side. Smiley looks appalled at his lack of enthusiasm.

“She cried the whole time,” Curt says.
                         
“Well, it was sad... but I liked it,” Smiley replies. “You should see it, Dean.”
                         
Since Dean doesn’t have a girlfriend and has never been to a movie alone, he’s not sure what to say.

Connect with Al Riske

Website • Instagram • Goodreads​

Get your own copy of Combustible

Amazon • Add on Goodreads

Giveaway

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win a $25 Amazon gift card