Blurb

For years, Mik has wanted nothing more than to put coal in Rudy Snow’s stocking.
As former pro hockey players, they’ve been rivals for years. It started in Mik’s rookie season, when a reporter pitted him against his older brother’s best friend. Rudy pushes Mik’s buttons like no one else, going out of his way to one-up him at every turn.

Now they manage pubs in a small town that takes Christmas to a level best seen in Hallmark movies, but not much else has changed. They’re still rivals, this time pitting gingerbread martinis against pomegranate sangria.

But when they’re forced to work together to plan a special holiday party, sparks ignite. Maybe it’s a bad idea to put coal in Rudy's stocking after all. They both might just catch fire.

Then again, what better way is there to stay warm on a cold winter’s night?
​
Christmas Falls is a multi-author M/M romance series set in a small town that thrives on enough holiday charm to rival any Hallmark movie.

Excerpt 

“You certainly know how to make a splash,” said a dry voice at his elbow, shaking him out of his irritation.

And setting into motion a new kind of annoyance that fizzled in Mik’s blood. “No one asked you,” he said to his brother’s best friend.

Rudy Snow raised one dark eyebrow, because of course he could do that. When Mik tried, he ended up with both eyebrows at his hairline.

“It’s certainly . . .” Rudy cast his gaze around, taking everything in. “Unique.”

“It’s majestic.”

“It looks like the Island of Misfit Toys. All you’re missing is a Charlie-in-the-Box.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Mik clenched his teeth. “You’re not allowed to judge. You don’t even have a wreath on your front door.”

Rudy made a sound in the back of his throat, a rumbly laugh that made the back of Mik’s neck itch. “Do you often happen to find yourself outside my house, Miki?”

Mik’s stupid feelings went all gooey at the nickname. Or maybe that was just hunger. “It’s on my way to work.”

“Sure. If you take the long way.”

God. Why did he have to be so annoying?

And hot.

And annoyingly hot. All dark-haired and dark-eyed and scruffy-jawed, with a natural tan to his skin that perpetually made him look like he’d just come from the beach. He stood a couple of inches taller than Mik’s five feet eleven. At a year older than Mik’s thirty-one, Rudy was as fit now as he’d been when he’d played in the NHL, even two and a half years post-retirement.

Mik had considered himself lucky to be drafted to his brother’s team’s rival. With Mik playing for Washington and Josh playing for Pittsburgh, it had given Mik the chance to step out of his brother’s shadow and assert himself as his own person. And playing up the rivalry between their teams had been all sorts of fun at family get-togethers.

The problem Mik hadn’t anticipated had been twofold.

First, because Josh’s rookie year had been the gold fucking star of rookie years, Mik had been instantly compared to him when he’d been drafted a year later, forevermore casting him in the role of Josh Gilmore’s little brother.

Second, there was Pittsburgh defenseman Rudy Snow. And Pittsburgh defenseman Rudy Snow wasn’t shy about checking his teammate’s little brother into the boards during Mik’s first Washington versus Pittsburgh game.

“It’s no secret in the league that your brother and his teammate Rudy Snow are good friends,” a reporter had said to Mik during the post-game interview after that game. “What do you have to say to your brother’s best friend after that check in the second period?”

Um, nothing?

He’d barely known Rudy. Plus, checking was what hockey players did.

While both those things were true, that hadn’t been what the reporter wanted to hear. So Mik had smirked and said, “That he better watch out. He won’t get the jump on me again. In fact, next time, I’m going to swipe the puck out from under him and score. Just wait and see.”

Mik had later learned that Rudy had responded to that with a pithy, “He can try.”
​
And that was it. Instant rivalry.

This was such a wonderful feelgood story with all the right Christmassy ingredients! Low on angst and truly bitter rivalry, but full of family, sweetness, Christmas decorations and fun banter.

You can find my full review here: Get Frosted 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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Happy Book Birthday to Game Changer! I’m so happy to be part of Gay Book Promotions blog tour celebrating the release of this second book in the wonderful MM hockey romance series Vancouver Orcas  by Amy Aislin! Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for chance to win your own signed paperbook copy!

Blurb

​It’s Blair Brawsiski’s ride or die year. After a decade in the AHL, if he doesn’t get called up to the NHL this season, it’s time to hang up his skates and focus on other things. But between a second job and family priorities, his attention isn’t where it should be, and his dreams of making it to the big leagues are dwindling by the day.

Hiring a personal assistant to help out with day-to-day stuff? Probably the smartest move Blair’s made in a while.

But when that PA turns out to be an assertive baker who’s exactly Blair’s type? Blair can’t help but wish those dexterous hands would knead something other than pastry dough. Namely, him.

Charlie Shore needs extra income. Desperately. With his expenses about to go up, it’s find a second job or get evicted. Getting hired as Blair’s PA is perfect: flexible hours, decent wages, and a scorching hot professional hockey player who’s willing to let him use his gorgeous kitchen for his baked goods.

Too bad that hockey player is exactly Charlie’s type. Too bad Charlie knows better than to date his new boss…

Excerpt 

“Charlie?”

The man on his porch turned and . . . oh. Okay. Charlie being Coach Shore’s cousin, Blair had expected him to look like Coach: big, burly, and bearded. But Charlie was short, slim, and clean-shaven. He wore a wool coat in a colour that was somewhere between ivory and tan, a dark green scarf, and a matching toque with a grey pompom. Dark blond hair peaked out the bottom of the hat.

He looked like an ethereal fairy from another realm.

Of course he was exactly Blair’s type, all cute and rosy-cheeked and elfin.

Blair let out a rueful laugh under his breath. As if he had time for dating with everything else going on in his life. Jen and Jerry would be married before Blair found a minute of free time.

“Charlie?” he asked again, holding out a hand as he crested the porch’s top step. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”

“No biggie.” Charlie’s smile was wide and genuine despite Blair’s tardiness, and it triggered something loose in Blair’s brain.

Hand still in Charlie’s, he said, “Have we met before? You look familiar.”

“No,” Charlie said with a conviction that had Blair questioning himself. “But we’ve probably been to several of the same functions, most recently the pre-season barbecue at Coach Epps’ place. I work for the organization.”

“No kidding. Doing what?”

“I’m the baker for our NHL team. I make pastries for team breakfast, breads for sandwiches for lunch, and whatever else the head chef might need. Dinner rolls, desserts, that sort of thing.”

Now Blair recognized him. There were only a few times a year when the entire organization got together: the pre-season barbecue, the holiday party, and the end-of-season barbecue. But when you put the entire AHL and NHL teams in a room, along with coaches, management, and office and support staff as well as significant others and children, it made for close to two hundred people. And with Blair missing half of those due to other commitments in the ten years he’d been with the Orcas, it was no wonder he hadn’t officially met Charlie. Plus, not being a social creature meant that introducing himself to a crowd of strangers one by one was basically his version of a living nightmare.

He did remember once seeing Charlie from across the yard at one of the barbecues and wondering who the cutie with the smile that radiated warmth was. By the time Blair had set his plate down and turned back to make his way toward the man, Charlie had vanished.

And now here he was, on Blair’s doorstep.

What was he doing here if he already had a job, though? “Are you . . . seeking a new career direction?”

“No,” Charlie said with a quiet laugh. “Just a second job.” He cocked his head, and he might’ve looked guileless if there hadn’t been a hint of humour in his brown eyes. “Can I have my hand back?”
​
“Right.” Blair snatched his hand away, embarrassment tingling across the back of his neck. “Sorry. Uh. Come on in.”

Just like the first book in the series, Game Changer was another cute and heart-warming MM romance with adorable characters that immediately stole my heart!

You can find my full reviews of both books here: Vancouver Orcas series 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

Get your own copy of Game Changer

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Today is my stop on the Xpresso Book Tours blitz celebrating the release of the third book in the Shell Grove series, Reasons Why Not to Date the Best Friend by Melanie Munton! Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for chance to win a $25 Amazon gift card!

Sometimes The One you’ve been looking for…
is the one who’s been there all along.

Synopsis

Reason #1: Finn is Maggie’s best friend. They don’t have secrets. Which means they know exactly how disastrous they would be as a couple. They bicker, they annoy each other, but they also have one hell of a good time together. Outside the bedroom, of course. Why would they risk ruining a great thing just to satisfy years of curiosity?
 
Reason #2: Finn is stable and secure while Maggie acts on any wild hair she gets. She’s always looking for her next adventure. But it’s been a while. Everyone around her is moving forward with their lives, leaving her floating alone in open waters. And when she’s offered the job of a lifetime in Key West—hundreds of miles from their hometown of Shell Grove, SC—it’s too enticing to resist. Besides, it’s not like she’ll ever be the kind of woman Finn would want to settle down with anyway.
 
Reason #3: Losing Finn would destroy her. That’s exactly what would happen if they ever took things too far and it blew up in their faces. But ever since that job offer was put on the table, Finn is putting a whole lot of other stuff on the table, too. Suddenly, Maggie and Finn are forgetting all of their rules. And she’s wondering why it’s taken them so long to be bad when it feels this good.
 
Maggie wants more adventure? Fine. Finn will give her all she can handle. She’s avoiding commitment? No problem. He’ll keep his thoughts on the subject to himself. But he’s not letting her take that job in Key West. She has no idea what she’d be throwing away. It’s taken him a long time to see things clearly, too, but his vision is 20/20 now. And he’s not letting his best friend—who might just be the girl of his dreams—go without putting up the fight of his life. All he has to do is show her he can be so much more than just the BEST FRIEND.

Excerpt

Finn stepped through Maggie’s back door and immediately ducked, dodging the flying tennis ball at the last second. Without that fourth cup of coffee, that sucker would have nailed him right in the damn eye. As it was, he was alert—and jittery—as hell. 

Don’t give the caffeine all the credit.

Tossing his keys on her kitchen counter, he hesitantly walked across the tile floor, approaching the living room with caution. There was… Shit, he didn’t know what to even call the wide assortment of household items littering her floor. There was obviously a purpose to it all, but that was a code only Maggie could crack. Entering her Alice in Wonderland of a mind made The Butterfly Effect look like a walk in the park. 

“What the hell am I looking at right now?”

Maggie’s head whipped in his direction, whisps of her dark hair plastered to her temples where she was sweating. “Canine calisthenics.” She stated it like he was dumb for not seeing it with his own eyes. “The vet says Berkeley’s weight is teetering right on the edge. Gotta keep my boy in shape, Jamie Lee Curtis and John Travolta style.”
​
“Isn’t that the movie where they spend an entire scene air-humping each other from across a room?”

He dodged another tennis ball that came flying at his head.

“Leave it to you to only remember the tawdry details of an 80s classic.”

The closer he looked at the objects around him, the more shapes he could make out. She had created her own makeshift obstacle course for their four-legged pet. Canine apparatuses of her own invention were set up throughout the house. As was always the case with Maggie, there was a method to her madness. One only she understood, but there was something to be said for it.

Finn rolled his eyes. “Just so you know, the vet only says that so you’ll keep coming back. He’s more interested in checking out your ass in your spandex pants than whether Berkeley’s put on a pound or two. Trust me, his weight is fine.”

A new song came over the speaker that Berkeley seemed to recognize because his tail started wagging like crazy. Maggie caught him when he excitedly stood up on his hind legs, and they proceeded to dance in the middle of the living room.

Oh, Jesus.

Finn only just noticed the matching leg warmers they were wearing. And headbands.

“Since when is my dog a Shakira fan?”

“Since always. He’s part Colombian, after all.”

“We found him on the side of Highway 21, Mags. Pretty sure he didn’t hitchhike from Bogotá.”

“But his spirit animal did.”

“He is an animal.” When Maggie swerved her hips, he swore Berkeley mimicked her. Finn scraped his hands down his face, groaning. “Look what you’re doing to my dog. He’s going soft on me. He didn’t even bark when I entered the house without knocking.”

“Why would he bark at you?”

“He wouldn’t have known who it was when the door first opened.”

Berkeley dropped back down to all fours and copied Maggie when she started twirling in circles. “If anyone is softening up this dog it’s you with all those steaks you’re feeding him. Why do you think he’s having weight issues?”

His molars ground together. “He’s not having weight issues. The vet is having infidelity issues. Dude is married, yet he’s drooling over you like Berkeley does when I pull our steaks off the grill.”

“Ribeyes or porterhouses?”

“What does it matter?”

“If I’m going to be compared to a steak, it better be the finest slab of meat on the market.”

For whatever reason, the moment she said those words, Finn’s eyes dropped straight to her ass. He wasn’t even conscious of the action. Some otherworldly compulsion—likely a demonic possession—seemed to take hold of him. She had on a pair of those ungodly tight pants women wore when they worked out. There were slits cut in the spandex that were made of a sheer, mesh material, and her top was one of those dri-fit tanks that had a built-in bra thing. Maggie still always wore a brightly colored sports bra when she worked out, though, regardless of any built-in material. She couldn’t exactly go without one, considering how…ample…her chest was.

Jesus Christ.

Why was he thinking about her chest size? Or her bras? For fuck’s sake, he only looked because Maggie talking about being compared to a steak had the words prime meat flashing like a goddamn neon sign in his head. Holy shit, he was as bad as the vet. An actual Neanderthal.

The next words out of his mouth proved it to be true.

“You know you’re filet mignon, Mags.”

She tripped over a couch cushion and stared at him in shock.

Oh, motherfuck.

At the end of the day, she is a true romantic at heart. She loves writing the cheesy and corny of romantic comedies, and the sassy and sexy of suspense. She aims to make her readers swoon, laugh out loud, maybe sweat a little, and above all, fall in love.

Go visit Melanie’s website and sign up for her newsletter to stay updated on release dates, teasers, and other details for all of her projects!

Connect with Melanie Munton

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Welcome to my stop on Gay Book Promotions new release and series tour for the standalone sapphic celebrity romance series Entertaining Love, celebrating the release of the third book, Love on Page Six!

An actress with a secret, a journalist with a dream, and forbidden love that could change everything.

Blurb Love on Page Six

​Desperate to save her family’s dying magazine, love is the last thing on 26-year-old Daphne Fernandez's mind when she agrees to go undercover as a makeup artist to scoop a juicy story on the city’s most popular telenovela star. But a spur-of-the-moment kiss makes it more complicated. A cheating boyfriend might not be Bombshell Bridget’s only secret.

Bridget Blake has only ever wanted one thing in her life: to be herself. But her overbearing momanger insists showing the world who she really is would mean the death of her blossoming career. So when the new makeup artist fights her way under Bridget’s perfectly moisturized, paparazzi-proof skin, it’s everything she can do to keep the façade in place. Until one spontaneous kiss turns her world upside down. With Daphne, Bridget is the brave, fun-loving, take-no-prisoners girl she’s always wanted to be. But embracing her new self may mean leaving behind everything she’s ever worked for. Is love really worth it?

Excerpt from Love on Page Six

The Meet Cute 

A movement catches my attention as I hesitantly reach for a shimmering eyeshadow palette young woman with black curly hair and gold-rimmed glasses browses the store with ease. Her hands expertly select items from the shelves as she navigates the space in her manual wheelchair. 

She looks up a second later, and her brown eyes meet mine with a flicker of recognition. She freezes, pursing her lips before finally rolling towards me with a warm smile.

“Hi there.” Her voice is soft and melodic with a hint of a Hispanic accent.. “Welcome to the Mystic Beauty. I couldn’t help but notice you look a bit lost. Can I help you find something?”

I adopt an affected Southern drawl. The last thing I need is for my stupidity about something as simple as make-up to be splattered all over the tabloids. “I, um, I’m just looking for some makeup…” Well, duh. I mentally facepalm myself. Why else would I be here? I pluck one from a nearby display and hold it up with an exaggerated flourish. “Clearly, I’m a bit lost.” 

“Of course!” she replies, wheeling next to me and holding out her free hand. “I’m Daphne.”

“Nice to meet you, Daphne,” I say. “I’m… Sarah.”

“Sarah” is the first name that comes to mind, and I hope it’s generic enough not to invite suspicion. Daphne’s hand is warm and steady as she shakes mine, and I can’t help but be grateful for her genuine kindness.

“Alright, Sarah,” she says, releasing my hand and gesturing toward a display of eyeshadow palettes. “Let’s find you something that suits your style.”

As we navigate the aisles, Daphne explains different products and techniques easily. After a few minutes, I no longer feel like an idiot for asking one too many questions I should definitely already know the answer to after so many years in the film industry. But rather someone just trying to take the time to learn a new trade. The longer we wander through the aisles, the more. I find myself becoming intrigued by this mysterious woman who clearly has a passion for her craft.

“Can I ask about your makeup?” I ask, admiring the delicate lines of gold and silver that frame her brown eyes. “It’s stunning.”

“Thank you,” A blush colors her cheeks and I bite back a smile of my own. She’s cute when she’s flustered. “I’m an aspiring special effects makeup artist. I love playing with different styles and trying new things.”

“Wow,” I exhale softly. “That’s really amazing.” It’s not just her skill that impresses me, but the genuine joy in her expression. Just saying the word seems to light up the room, and I can’t help craving more of it from her. As we continue our conversation, I slowly lower my sunglasses, allowing Daphne to see my green eyes.

“By the way, if you ever need any help or advice in the future, feel free to reach out to me,” She hands me a small business card with her contact information. “You seem like someone who could use a friend.”

I take the card with a grateful smile.

“I may just have to take you up on that.” I wink, and we share a laugh. My heart skips a bit, and my chest as a blush pinkens her cheeks.

“Great!” Daphne smiles warmly as she expertly navigates her wheelchair down the aisles, pointing out more products and explaining their uses. I listen intently, absorbing every word like a sponge. “Primer is important for long-lasting makeup,” she explains, handing me a small tube to examine. “And don’t forget about setting powder!”

“Good to know,” I muse, turning the tub between my fingers. “You know my makeup artist was recently fired,” I confess quietly, glancing around and relieved to find out the store is mostly empty. “It’s been really frustrating trying to find someone new who understands my style.”

Daphne’s features soften with sympathy. “I’m sorry to hear that. What kind of look were you going for?”

I hesitate, dipping my head down and running my hands along my arms. “I’m… honestly not sure. I don’t know as much about makeup as I probably should.” 

Her eyes light up, and she squeezes my hand. That’s OK. We can figure it out together. I actually have some ideas if you’re interested.”

“Really?” My heart flutters with anticipation. “I would love that.”

As we continue to explore the store, Daphne’s passion and creativity spark my own. I can’t help but feel drawn to her, her talent and kindness shining through with every word. The longer we talk, the more amazed I am that this woman barely knows me has already offered me more understanding and support than most people in my life.

“Thank you, Daphne,” I murmur, briefly taking her hand in mine. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“Of course.” As we stand between shelves of sparkling eyeshadows and vibrant lipsticks, I watch Daphne’s deft fingers pluck an iridescent shade from its perch. The glittering powder dusts her fingertips as she swipes it gently across my hand, creating a shimmering arc of color. “This would look amazing on you,” she says, grinning. “It’ll bring out the green in your eyes.”

“Wow, that’s beautiful,” I breathe, captivated by the way the light dances across the tiny flecks of pigment. “Do you really think I could pull it off?”

Daphne smiles bashfully and flicks her hand through the air. I’m sure you could pull anything off.” She laughs, and I can’t help but feel a flutter in my chest. The way her eyes crinkle at the corners and her lips curve into a smile… it’s all so enticing. 

For the rest of the afternoon, Daphne guides me through the store, picking out different shades and colors for me to try on. 

Daphne’s face lights up as we pause by a display of elaborate prosthetics. “I love special effects makeup,” she confesses as she gently fingers one of the masks. “It’s such a powerful way to transform someone and tell a story.”

“Really? Did you study it?”

Daphne nods, but her smile dims. “I did, but finding work has been difficult, especially because of my disability. Some people just can’t see past the wheelchair.”

A pulse of anger flares through me, but I stamp it down. This woman is a stranger. I remind myself. Still, I hate how judgmental people can be. “I’m sorry, Daphne. That’s so unfair.” 

“Thank you.” Her brown eyes meet mine and my throat dries up. “But I won’t let it stop me. I know what I’m capable of, and someday, the right opportunity will come along.”

Her determination and resilience never cease to amaze me. Nodding I plant my hands on my hips. “I know it will.” Suddenly, an idea takes root in my mind. A bold, daring idea that could change both our lives. “Daphne,” I begin, my voice wavering with nerves. “I have a proposition for you.”

She tips her head to the side and I grin. 

“Would you consider being my personal makeup artist?” The words tumble out before I can second-guess myself. “I know it’s not special effects, but I think together, we could create something amazing.”

The faint scent of lavender fills my nostrils as I watch Daphne’s eyes dart back and forth. Her fingers tap the armrest of her wheelchair, betraying her uncertainty.

“I… I don’t know, Bridget,” she hedges, looking down at her lap. “I’m so honored, but… I can’t I just started down at the warehouse and I can’t just abandon my crew.”

Oh. My heart sinks. “Of course. But if you change your mind…”

“Gracias.” Daphne smiles weakly, the gold rims of her glasses catching the store’s fluorescent lights. 

“De nada,” I murmur softly, warmth blossoming in my chest. 

“Now, let’s get back to finding the perfect makeup for you, shall we?”

The corners of her mouth lift into a genuine smile, and I watch as her hands deftly select products, her fingers moving with practiced ease despite the tremors that sometimes betray her. Her passion for her craft is evident in every gesture, and it only strengthens my belief that she’s the perfect person for the job.

“Thank you, Daphne, “I say as she bags up all my purchases a few minutes later. 

She smiles, and my pulse speeds up again. “You’re welcome, Sarah. I’m just glad I could help.” She folds the last of my purchases into the bag and hands it over to me with a nod.

Daphne’s cheeks flame scarlet as I scrawl my number on her hand. “Here,” I say, trying not to let my embarrassment show. “If you ever change your mind, feel free to call or text any time.”

Her gaze flits between the numbers and me. Finally, she gives a small nod and murmurs her thanks. As I back away, feeling oddly proud of myself for taking such a risk, Daphne watches me go with an intensity that leaves me slightly breathless.

Check out the other books in this series too!

Hollywood's best matchmaker may have finally met her match.
 
Blurb Love Among the Stars

Genevieve “Eve” Davis is Hollywood’s best, most sought-after matchmaker. Just about everyone in the City of Angels owes her for their happily ever afters. She’s been in the business for ten years and has never made a false move. The only person she hasn’t been able to hit with Cupid’s arrow? Herself.

Then Jemma, Hollywood’s most recent “it” girl, appears on her doorstep. But rather than having an extra bounce in her step, she looks like a dog just crapped all over her brand-new designer boots. The date Eve set up for her was anything but a fairy tale beginning. In fact, it was a downright disaster. The first bad review Eve has ever had. If she can’t fix this, her perfect reputation will be torn to shreds.

Even worse, the deeper she digs for that secret ingredient that will help her find Jemma’s perfect match, the harder she falls.

They say love conquers all, but what if getting it means losing your family?
 
Blurb Love Beneath the Stars

After years of searching, a job gone wrong finally led Hollywood's most famous matchmaker Eve to her soulmate in up-and-coming starlet Jemma Mason. For a year, they had pictured their perfect destination Valentine’s Day wedding. But when Jemma's family arrives from Montana, they quickly learn perfection is hard to come by.

Jemma’s conservative brother has always been distant, but when he meets his sister's fiancée, who is seven years her senior, he worries she’s moving way too fast and refuses to come to the wedding, let alone keep his promise to walk her down the aisle. Can love really conquer all, or are there some wounds that simply run too deep to be buried?

This was a cute and adorable feelgood romance series with lovely characters!
​
Read my full reviews of all books here: Entertaining Love series by Claerie Kavanaugh

​About the author

I’m so happy to be part of Gay Book Promotions blog tour celebrating the release of the Contemporary M/M Young Adult Gay Romance Butterflies In The End Zone by Jacob Gelman​! Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win
a PR Box with candy, the book, a bookmark, stickers, and a media kit!

Blurb

Alex has everything going for him. He’s the quarterback of the football team. He has a great group of friends. He’s popular. He’s got stellar grades. So, why is he so enamored by the new kid from the Bay Area?

Meanwhile, Jamie doesn’t understand why the quarterback of Scalia’s football team could possibly want to be friends with him: the closeted Jewish kid. It’s the last thing he needs to worry about after leaving California for Jacksonville. He planned on just keeping his head down and finishing his senior year quietly to get into his dream school.
​
Against the odds, though, they become close friends in an area that would teach them to be enemies. But, over time, their friendship turns into something deeper – scaring the both of them. Will their love survive the trials of being in a homophobic environment? Or will it all prove to be too much for them?

Excerpt 

I’ve been in Florida less than a day and already I’m in a life or death standoff. The gator stares at me, his eyes glowing against the moonlight. I stare at the gator, my eyes wild with fear. Shit, I’m gonna die.

He could have been small as a chihuahua or large as Godzilla, but in my California brain he was the most terrifying thing I’d seen in my life. This was not how I expected my senior year to start.

Me dying was the cherry on top, really.

It wasn’t like I had much to live for anymore, after leaving the Bay Area and all. My friends. My childhood. My family. It was all gone now. I had come out just a month before, ready to live my truth in an accepting area until...poof.

“We’re moving,” my mother had told me. “To Florida.”

“Just like that?” I’d asked her.

“Just like that,” she’d told me.

“Why?” I’d prodded, hoping maybe there could be some solution to this unbearable fate. There wasn’t.

We weren’t even in Miami either. We were in Jacksonville. Not even in Jacksonville, an hour away in some nowhere suburb called Scalia – whatever the heck that is. San Francisco to Scalia: the name of my personal horror movie.

My parents were architects. Their company decided to move them to Florida. I was suddenly in Florida. Suddenly about to become the dumbest news headline possible: LOCAL GAY KID DIES FROM GATOR. That simple, I guess.

My heart leapt towards my throat.

His tail, is it...moving?

The gator began walking, or waddling, or slithering – whatever it is gators do when they move – away from me. I stood beside my bike, nearly ready to collapse from fear and adrenaline. Finally, he crawled out of sight – back to the depths of whatever abyss from which he came.

I let out a sigh, almost sad to live another day. I got back on my bike, slowly peddling back home, tears lining my path.

I was sad. Sad about everything. Sad about leaving my friends behind. Sad about leaving my family behind. Sad about no longer being in a Jewish area. Sad about no longer being in an accepting area.

I wasn’t only sad, either. I was scared. Terrified, even. My whole life people had talked about the south like it was some far off universe, some faraway hell the Bay Area would forever be safe from. I had heard stories of how unaccepting it was, how women couldn’t choose what happens to their bodies, gay people couldn’t be teachers, trans students were expelled. Now here I was: in the south. In Florida. Back in the closet.
​
My eyes were red from tears by the time they stared at my bedroom ceiling, my pillow resting against my neck. I had only a week before I started school at Scalia High. What would that be like? Visions of people with confederate flags, driving trucks, and listening to country music came to my mind and immediately I was near tears once more. I wasn’t sure about many things, but I was certain of this: nothing good would come of this year.

About the Author

I’m a staunch advocate for lgbt rights. I'm originally from Melbourne, Florida. I am a board member for colectiva queer and a founder of the political action group Florida Fighting Fascism. I have worked with the Brevard Democratic Party, Equality Florida (twice), Congressman Darren Soto, and am a current fellow with People for Power Florida. I am a current student at Brown University studying political science. At university, I am part of the philosophy, politics, and economics society and the Brown Debating Union. I have written for Queerty, OutTraveler, and Florida Today. I am the author of the young adult gay romance novel entitled Butterflies In The End Zone (2023).

Connect with Jacob Gelman

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Todayis my stop on the Xpresso Book Tours blitz celebrating the release of the MM Contemporary Friends to Lovers Romance This Will Hurt II by Cara Dee! Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for chance to win a $15 Amazon gift card!

Blurb

Buckle up. Hearts broken and wings clipped, Roe and Jake have mountains to climb, walls to tear down, and countless private moments to bring them even closer in this final part of their journey.
 
I’d gotten what I’d asked for, right? The ground beneath me had finally settled. I had the wife. I had the kid—my beautiful baby boy. Work was great. I was traveling the globe with my best friend, and together we were Roe Finlay and Jake Denver. Inseparable.
 
That was the f— That was the problem. We were inseparable. Even though he would never be the man I’d once wished he could be, I couldn’t freaking cope going a day without seeing him. When we were together, all was well in the world. I could breathe easier.
 
Then I found his damn journal from…therapy. That was right. My best friend, who defined “man of few words,” was in therapy. The ground started shaking again. I got desperate. I swam in denial. I…almost lost him on the job when he saved my life.
 
Nothing was settled anymore.

Excerpt
 
What the fuck did you wear to a country concert?
 
I grabbed a pair of jeans and boxer briefs from the closet, then walked back into the bedroom and picked up my phone from my nightstand. I sent Jake a message.
 
I’m fresh out of chaps and cowboy hats. What should I wear, hoss?
 
While I waited for his response, I removed the towel around my hips and put on the boxers and jeans.
 
“Dada, I’m-wa no baff!”
 
I glanced over at the door as my boy ran in, with Sandra hot on his tail.
 
I grinned faintly and swooped him up. “Look out, we got a runner ova’ hea’.” I peppered his face with smooches, and he giggled up a storm. “You can’t escape bath time, baby boy. But you know what comes after, don’t you? Mommy’s gonna read you a story.”
 
“Nooo,” he complained.
 
“Yeees,” I mimicked.
 
Sandra sighed and smiled ruefully. “Let’s go, sweetie. We’ll get extra bubbles and everything.”
 
“Hear that? We love those bubbles.” I handed over the clinging monkey to her and pressed a kiss to the side of his head.
 
“I don’t wannaaa,” he whined.
 
Sandra carried him out, only to stop in the doorway and turn back to me. “You sure you don’t wanna cancel?”
 
Positive—and I wasn’t fighting with her about it again.
 
“I won’t be late,” was all I said.
 
The teasing glint in her eyes faded, and she walked out.
 
I released a breath.
 
My phone dinged on the nightstand, and I walked over and read Jake’s text.
 
I’ll tell you you’re pretty no matter what you wear, sugar.
 
I laughed silently and shook my head.
 
Helpful.
 
Whatever. I returned to the closet and dug out a long-sleeved tee that made my biceps look good. We were going to an outdoor place up in Griffith Park, so it was bound to get chilly. But I liked that it wasn’t a huge concert. Only some five thousand people. It beat going to the Staples Center.
 
Jake picked me up downstairs fifteen minutes later, and the most country thing about him continued to be his truck. It made no sense to drive a truck in LA. But he loved it, and I really had no room to argue choices of vehicles. I was still a laughingstock after buying a sports car before Casper was born. Worst deal ever. I’d probably lost twenty grand when I’d traded it in for a family-friendly SUV.
 
“Hey, pretty.” Jake pulled out from the curb. “I see you found clothes.”
 
“No thanks to you.” I smiled and buckled my seat belt. “Will I see a lot of chaps tonight?”
 
“If I drop you off in West Hollywood instead, I’m sure there’s a club for you.”
 
I laughed. Funny.
 
“Oh, this is a good one.” He cranked up the volume on the stereo. “He’ll probably play this tonight.”
 
I side-eyed him, more interested in studying Jake than hearing a song. There was something inherently sexy about how he drove. He made life look easy when he was on the road. One arm along the edge of the window, the sleeves of his open flannel shirt rolled up—some serious forearm porn going on—two fingers gripping the wheel loosely at the bottom. He tapped his foot to the rocky beat, and his lips moved subtly to the singer’s voice.
 
Ratty USMC ball cap on the dash. Since he always wore it backward, he took it off when a headrest was in the way.
 
Fitting lyrics, about holding on to things you believed in.
 
Of course, it being a country rock song, the topic was the singer’s truck.
 
“It’s the miles that make a man.”
 
How many miles till I fell out of love with him?
 
“I’d be nothing without you, so I’m holding on.”
 
Surprisingly, a line not about the truck.
 
“I’m not the openin’ act,” he chuckled. “Quit starin’.”
 
That was the fucking problem, wasn’t it? He was the headliner.

I absolutely loved the first part of the This Will Hurt Duet and couldn’t wait to read the second part with Roe’s POV on this emotional rollercoaster friends-to-lovers, bisexual awakening, slow burn MM romance. There were so many things I loved about this series and the wonderful relationship between Jake and Roe that only grew stronger over the years. The story was so realistic and authentic, and I truly rooted for Jake and Roe. The love story itself is definitely a five star one, but I had an issue with the moral lines that were crossed.

​Read my full review here: This Will Hurt II by Cara Dee

​About the author Cara Dee

Excerpt
 
“Hang on, Tuck.” I lowered the phone from my ear and squinted at the dusty blue Hilux pulling in at the kerb. It had Miller Station stamped on its door, windows rolled down, and music blaring.
​
The driver killed the volume, pushed his sunglasses up his nose, and leaned across the passenger seat to speak through the window. “Are you Gil Everton?”
 
“Yep.” I raised a tentative hand in greeting.
 
“Cool. I’m Holden Miller. Let’s get you on board.” His full mouth curved up in a high-wattage smile that made my stomach do a weird-arse, vaguely familiar flip.
 
Oh boy. Attraction. Just freaking dandy. Eighteen months with my libido on military-grade lockdown, and it chose that moment to wake up and get with the program. Not only that, but I already knew Holden was gay from my conversations with Emily. Go fucking figure. It was a wrinkle I sure as hell didn’t need in my reboot plan. I hadn’t been laid since Callie’s death and I wasn’t looking to change that state of affairs anytime soon even if I had been able to summon any interest, which I hadn’t . . . for a while. So, yeah, there was that. Which was why my reaction to any man was . . . surprising.
 
“Gil, are you still there?” Tuck called through the phone as Holden disappeared back into the cab and the driver’s door opened.
 
I raised the phone to my ear again. “Yeah, but I’m gonna have to—” I stopped abruptly as a ruggedly handsome dark-haired beauty with a mass of lazy brown waves bouncing around his ears emerged from the Hilux. And since I was a hot mess but not dead, I drew in a sharp breath and whispered, “Wow.”
 
“What?” Tucker interrupted my gawping. “What wow? Gil?”
 
I cleared my throat and mumbled. “Nothing. I’ll call you in a day or two. Say hi to Gail and the kids for me.”
 
“They don’t like you either.”
 
I laughed. “They love me.”
 
“Fuck it. You’re right.”
 
“Bye, Tuck.”
 
“Wait, Gil. Gil!”
 
I hung up on Tuck’s protest and shot to my feet, by which time Holden had circled to the back of the Hilux and was busy opening the hatch. It gave me a few seconds to appreciate the way his dusty jeans hugged a pretty spectacular arse, and an equally dusty black T-shirt showed off lean muscular arms sporting a golden tan.
 
Holden caught my eye and that broad smile widened, no doubt because I was standing there staring at him like a total idiot. “First off, let’s exchange numbers,” he said. “I think you only have Mum’s. I tried to call to say I was running late, but whatever I had in my phone didn’t work.”
 
“Oh.” Shit. Great way to start. “Yeah, I ah, changed my number, sorry. I updated your mum, but maybe you’ve got my old one.”
 
“No problem. Here.” He gave me his phone and I corrected the number he had stored and then he sent me a text.
 
I called him back to make sure we were right, and Billy Joel’s “Uptown Girl” rang out through the carpark.
 
I bit back a smile and raised a brow. “Really? I think I should be offended.”
He chuckled. “Don’t be. Besides, it was before I met you and it kind of fits, right? You’re from the big smoke. You’ve even got your Roberto Cavalli’s on.” He pointed to the label on my jeans and heat rose in my cheeks. “Pretty fancy for a sheep station.”
 
I narrowed my gaze and fired back, “But you recognised the brand which says you have an eye for those things.”
 
He grinned. “Of course. They’re a great jean. Just don’t wear them in the woolshed.”
 
I laughed. “Kind of goes without saying.”
 
“Are those it?” He nodded to four bags of varying sizes siting in a tidy line at my feet.
I gave a mute nod, because I was well-educated like that, and wiped my hot palms down the front of my jeans.
 
“Great.” He sauntered over in that loose-gaited way perfected by many farmers like they had all the time in the world. About a metre away, he stopped, lifted his glasses onto his head, and a pair of dark coffee-brown almost black eyes locked with mine.
 
And just, damn. I was in trouble.
 
Then he smiled. “Welcome to Mackenzie Country, Gil.”

This is the first book in Jay Hogan’s new Mackenzie country series, following the sheep farm boss Holden with commitment issues and the grieving Gil who lost is daughter in a car accident one and a half year ago, and his marriage soon thereafter. This was such a heartwarming, poignant and addictive reading experience with two amazing main characters to root for, and some added layers of grief and PTDS after the loss of a child. A great start to this new series!

Read my full review here: The Art of Husbandry by Jay Hogan

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 the Author

Jay Hogan

Get your own copy of The Art of Husbandry

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

Cover reveal! Today I’m excited to help reveal the cover of Love on Page Six by Claerie Kavanaugh!

An actress with a secret, a journalist with a dream, and forbidden love that could change everything.

​Love on Page Six is the second book in the standalone sapphic celebrity romance series Entertaining Love. It includes tropes and themes such as Friends To Lovers, Movie Set, Against All Odds, Character w/ Disability, Coming Out, Femme / Femme, Interracial / Multicultural Relationship, and Slow Burn.

See the full stunning cover made by Cath Grace Designs here:

Blurb 

Desperate to save her family’s dying magazine, love is the last thing on 26-year-old Daphne Fernandez's mind when she agrees to go undercover as a makeup artist to scoop a juicy story on the city’s most popular telenovela star. But a spur-of-the-moment kiss makes it more complicated. A cheating boyfriend might not be Bombshell Bridget’s only secret.
​
Bridget Blake has only ever wanted one thing in her life: to be herself. But her overbearing momanger insists showing the world who she really is would mean the death of her blossoming career. So when the new makeup artist fights her way under Bridget’s perfectly moisturized, paparazzi-proof skin, it’s everything she can do to keep the façade in place. Until one spontaneous kiss turns her world upside down. With Daphne, Bridget is the brave, fun-loving, take-no-prisoners girl she’s always wanted to be. But embracing her new self may mean leaving behind everything she’s ever worked for. Is love really worth it?

Excerpt 

The Meet Cute 

A movement catches my attention as I hesitantly reach for a shimmering eyeshadow palette young woman with black curly hair and gold-rimmed glasses browses the store with ease. Her hands expertly select items from the shelves as she navigates the space in her manual wheelchair. 

She looks up a second later, and her brown eyes meet mine with a flicker of recognition. She freezes, pursing her lips before finally rolling towards me with a warm smile.

“Hi there.” Her voice is soft and melodic with a hint of a Hispanic accent.. “Welcome to the Mystic Beauty. I couldn’t help but notice you look a bit lost. Can I help you find something?”

I adopt an affected Southern drawl. The last thing I need is for my stupidity about something as simple as make-up to be splattered all over the tabloids. “I, um, I’m just looking for some makeup…” Well, duh. I mentally facepalm myself. Why else would I be here? I pluck one from a nearby display and hold it up with an exaggerated flourish. “Clearly, I’m a bit lost.” 

“Of course!” she replies, wheeling next to me and holding out her free hand. “I’m Daphne.”

“Nice to meet you, Daphne,” I say. “I’m… Sarah.”

“Sarah” is the first name that comes to mind, and I hope it’s generic enough not to invite suspicion. Daphne’s hand is warm and steady as she shakes mine, and I can’t help but be grateful for her genuine kindness.

“Alright, Sarah,” she says, releasing my hand and gesturing toward a display of eyeshadow palettes. “Let’s find you something that suits your style.”

As we navigate the aisles, Daphne explains different products and techniques easily. After a few minutes, I no longer feel like an idiot for asking one too many questions I should definitely already know the answer to after so many years in the film industry. But rather someone just trying to take the time to learn a new trade. The longer we wander through the aisles, the more. I find myself becoming intrigued by this mysterious woman who clearly has a passion for her craft.

“Can I ask about your makeup?” I ask, admiring the delicate lines of gold and silver that frame her brown eyes. “It’s stunning.”

“Thank you,” A blush colors her cheeks and I bite back a smile of my own. She’s cute when she’s flustered. “I’m an aspiring special effects makeup artist. I love playing with different styles and trying new things.”

“Wow,” I exhale softly. “That’s really amazing.” It’s not just her skill that impresses me, but the genuine joy in her expression. Just saying the word seems to light up the room, and I can’t help craving more of it from her. As we continue our conversation, I slowly lower my sunglasses, allowing Daphne to see my green eyes.

“By the way, if you ever need any help or advice in the future, feel free to reach out to me,” She hands me a small business card with her contact information. “You seem like someone who could use a friend.”

I take the card with a grateful smile.

“I may just have to take you up on that.” I wink, and we share a laugh. My heart skips a bit, and my chest as a blush pinkens her cheeks.

“Great!” Daphne smiles warmly as she expertly navigates her wheelchair down the aisles, pointing out more products and explaining their uses. I listen intently, absorbing every word like a sponge. “Primer is important for long-lasting makeup,” she explains, handing me a small tube to examine. “And don’t forget about setting powder!”

“Good to know,” I muse, turning the tub between my fingers. “You know my makeup artist was recently fired,” I confess quietly, glancing around and relieved to find out the store is mostly empty. “It’s been really frustrating trying to find someone new who understands my style.”

Daphne’s features soften with sympathy. “I’m sorry to hear that. What kind of look were you going for?”

I hesitate, dipping my head down and running my hands along my arms. “I’m… honestly not sure. I don’t know as much about makeup as I probably should.” 

Her eyes light up, and she squeezes my hand. That’s OK. We can figure it out together. I actually have some ideas if you’re interested.”

“Really?” My heart flutters with anticipation. “I would love that.”

As we continue to explore the store, Daphne’s passion and creativity spark my own. I can’t help but feel drawn to her, her talent and kindness shining through with every word. The longer we talk, the more amazed I am that this woman barely knows me has already offered me more understanding and support than most people in my life.

“Thank you, Daphne,” I murmur, briefly taking her hand in mine. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“Of course.” As we stand between shelves of sparkling eyeshadows and vibrant lipsticks, I watch Daphne’s deft fingers pluck an iridescent shade from its perch. The glittering powder dusts her fingertips as she swipes it gently across my hand, creating a shimmering arc of color. “This would look amazing on you,” she says, grinning. “It’ll bring out the green in your eyes.”

“Wow, that’s beautiful,” I breathe, captivated by the way the light dances across the tiny flecks of pigment. “Do you really think I could pull it off?”

Daphne smiles bashfully and flicks her hand through the air. I’m sure you could pull anything off.” She laughs, and I can’t help but feel a flutter in my chest. The way her eyes crinkle at the corners and her lips curve into a smile… it’s all so enticing. 

For the rest of the afternoon, Daphne guides me through the store, picking out different shades and colors for me to try on. 
​
Daphne’s face lights up as we pause by a display of elaborate prosthetics. “I love special effects makeup,” she confesses as she gently fingers one of the masks. “It’s such a powerful way to transform someone and tell a story.”

“Really? Did you study it?”

Daphne nods, but her smile dims. “I did, but finding work has been difficult, especially because of my disability. Some people just can’t see past the wheelchair.”

A pulse of anger flares through me, but I stamp it down. This woman is a stranger. I remind myself. Still, I hate how judgmental people can be. “I’m sorry, Daphne. That’s so unfair.” 

“Thank you.” Her brown eyes meet mine and my throat dries up. “But I won’t let it stop me. I know what I’m capable of, and someday, the right opportunity will come along.”

Her determination and resilience never cease to amaze me. Nodding I plant my hands on my hips. “I know it will.” Suddenly, an idea takes root in my mind. A bold, daring idea that could change both our lives. “Daphne,” I begin, my voice wavering with nerves. “I have a proposition for you.”

She tips her head to the side and I grin. 

“Would you consider being my personal makeup artist?” The words tumble out before I can second-guess myself. “I know it’s not special effects, but I think together, we could create something amazing.”

The faint scent of lavender fills my nostrils as I watch Daphne’s eyes dart back and forth. Her fingers tap the armrest of her wheelchair, betraying her uncertainty.

“I… I don’t know, Bridget,” she hedges, looking down at her lap. “I’m so honored, but… I can’t I just started down at the warehouse and I can’t just abandon my crew.”

Oh. My heart sinks. “Of course. But if you change your mind…”

“Gracias.” Daphne smiles weakly, the gold rims of her glasses catching the store’s fluorescent lights. 

“De nada,” I murmur softly, warmth blossoming in my chest. 

“Now, let’s get back to finding the perfect makeup for you, shall we?”

The corners of her mouth lift into a genuine smile, and I watch as her hands deftly select products, her fingers moving with practiced ease despite the tremors that sometimes betray her. Her passion for her craft is evident in every gesture, and it only strengthens my belief that she’s the perfect person for the job.

“Thank you, Daphne, “I say as she bags up all my purchases a few minutes later. 

She smiles, and my pulse speeds up again. “You’re welcome, Sarah. I’m just glad I could help.” She folds the last of my purchases into the bag and hands it over to me with a nod.

Daphne’s cheeks flame scarlet as I scrawl my number on her hand. “Here,” I say, trying not to let my embarrassment show. “If you ever change your mind, feel free to call or text any time.”

Her gaze flits between the numbers and me. Finally, she gives a small nod and murmurs her thanks. As I back away, feeling oddly proud of myself for taking such a risk, Daphne watches me go with an intensity that leaves me slightly breathless.

​About the author

Blurb

​The young adult adaptation of the hopeful and refreshingly candid bestselling memoir by the husband of a former Democratic presidential candidate about growing up gay in his small Midwestern town. Completely rewritten with new stories, including resources for readers, parents, and teachers.

Growing up, Chasten Glezman Buttigieg didn’t always fit in. He felt different from his father and brothers, who loved to hunt and go camping, and out of place in the rural, conservative small town where he lived. Back then, blending in was more important than feeling seen.

So, when Chasten realized he was gay, he kept that part of himself hidden away for a long, painful time. With incredible bravery, and the support of his loved ones, Chasten eventually came out—and when he did, he learned that being true to himself was the most rewarding journey of all.

Finding acceptance and self-love can seem like a tremendous challenge, but it’s never impossible. With honesty, courage, and warmth, Chasten relays his experience of growing up in America and embracing his identity, while inspiring young people across the country to do the same.

Blurb

Maybe the heart needs to break before one can put together the pieces correctly. This is Jake and Roe’s story.

I used to think leaving the Marines and moving to LA was the defining moment that changed my life. I was gonna become a documentary filmmaker and see the world through my camera. Then I met Roe Finlay.

Never in a million years could I have imagined…well, everything we went through. I sucked at expressing how I felt—which was emotionally stunted most of the time—but Roe seemed to get me. I became…dependent. Attached. Not in a sexual way or anything—I wasn’t gay. Far from it. Or bisexual like Roe, for that matter. No, this was different. I just wanted to be close to him. He made me laugh like no other. We were a fantastic team. We lived together. Worked together. He was my best friend.

He was everything. He was my defining moment.

Until he decided to commit to his f—to his girlfriend.

Excerpt
 
Just go home, you fucking moron. You don’t belong in LA.
 
I made my way across campus, feeling more out of place every time I left class.
 
I was leaving behind a good career in the Marines for…random classes at Santa Monica College. Learn videography in twelve weeks. Study the art of documentary filmmaking in one semester. Then I thought about why I’d left the service. How sick I was of seeing death through my lens. Combat photography had been such a fucking fluke anyway. I was infantry. I was more at home on the front lines in Afghanistan than… But no. No. No, I was here because I couldn’t stand the war anymore. I didn’t wanna see another dead soldier, hear another explosion, witness another crying child surrounded by blood and debris.
 
I went to the coffee shop on the corner of the street where Nikki worked. She had the car, and we’d go home together once she was off her shift.
 
I ordered a coffee and found an empty table by one of the windows.
 
Sounded pretty good, though, didn’t it? Go home with my girlfriend at the end of the day… Except, it was her car, her apartment, and my savings were almost gone. By next month, I’d have to take that bartending job in West Hollywood where the tips were so good.
 
By then, I’d be twenty-seven.
 
I retrieved my pen from the inner pocket of my jacket, and I opened the notebook.
 
Final project. Final project, final project, final project. I needed content. I understood filming. Documenting. But coming up with my own content for a fucking college class’s final project? I was doomed.
 
“There you are! Fuck, I thought I lost you, man.”
 
I furrowed my brow and glanced toward the man’s voice—that belonged to someone I definitely didn’t know. But he was coming toward my table, and he was staring right at me.
 
No, wait. I recognized him. He was in my class, wasn’t he? Out here, I had developed a radar for East Coast people, and he had a New York accent. Otherwise, not much about him stood out. Average height, dark hair, fairly fit, on the lanky side, probably a bit younger than me.
 
He sat down in front of me, out of breath, and removed his messenger bag. “Look, I’m just gonna come out and say it. I have two hundred bucks, I’m living in my truck, and I have one network connection that I desperately wanna use. He told me to send him my final project—see if he could make some calls—but as has become painfully clear in this class, videography isn’t my thing. I understand fuck-all about goddamn HDV, SxS, and the difference between standard definition and hi-def.” He leaned forward. “Dude, y’all were talking about memory cards, and I thought we were discussing a fucking festival in Austin.”
 
That…was SXSW. South by Southwest.
 
“Anyway—in short, I have an idea,” he went on. “There is an artistic approach to it, but I’ll admit, it’s more of a come-hither for networks, something I think will sell. To get a foot in the door. But I need a partner, and I’ve watched you in class. You know your way around the equipment and the editing software. When the professor asks his dumb, insane questions, you actually know the answers.”
 
Was this how he talked to people he’d never met before? I didn’t even know his name.
 
I guessed if you were desperate enough and living out of your car, you cut to the chase faster.
 
That might very well be me in the near future.
 
So if he had an idea…
 
I extended my hand. “I’m Jake.”
 
He gave me a puzzled look, before he seemed to remember he’d just jumped into the conversation with no preamble. Then he flashed a dimpled grin and shook my hand.
 
“Roe. It’s Monroe, but everyone calls me Roe.”

This Will Hurt was such an emotional rollercoaster! I absolutely loved this delightful, addictive and entertaining first installment in Cara Dee’s new friends-to-lovers, bisexual awakening, slow burn MM romance duet. It opened up for important discussions about internal homophobia at the same time as it was fast-paced, fun and addictive with authentic characters to root for. I desperately need to continue this duet, even though I already know how it will live up to its title and hurt me emotionally!

You can find my full review here: This Will Hurt I by Cara Dee

About the author Cara Dee

I’m often awkwardly silent or, if the topic interests me, a chronic rambler. In other words, I can discuss writing forever and ever. Fiction, in particular. The love story—while a huge draw and constantly present—is secondary for me, because there’s so much more to writing romance fiction than just making two (or more) people fall in love and have hot sex.

There’s a world to build, characters to develop, interests to create, and a topic or two to research thoroughly.

Every book is a challenge for me, an opportunity to learn something new, and a puzzle to piece together. I want my characters to come to life, and the only way I know to do that is to give them substance—passions, history, goals, quirks, and strong opinions—and to let them evolve.

I want my men and women to be relatable. That means allowing room for everyday problems and, for lack of a better word, flaws. My characters will never be perfect.
Wait…this was supposed to be about me, not my writing.

I'm a writey person who loves to write. Always wanderlusting, twitterpating, kinking, cooking, baking, and geeking. There’s time for hockey and family, too. But mostly, I just love to write.

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