Category Archives: New Adult

BLOG TOUR: Damaged Goods (Men of London #7) by Susan Mac Nicol

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ABOUT THE BOOK:

Touc29616981hed by tragedy, love is an elusive dream never to be realised by eighteen-year-old Jax Grady–until he discovers his secret admirer and receives the sweetest gift he could ever desire.

THE SWEETEST GIFT

Tragedy and horror shaped Jackson Grady’s life, leaving him orphaned and scarred. At eighteen he’s ready to claim his future, but who could love his disfigured face and damaged soul? Definitely not a big, burly, beautiful Irish Traveller who is entirely the stuff of dreams.

Dare Rowan didn’t mean to become obsessed with the blue-eyed man he first saw across a field, but that porcelain skin and innocent air demanded another meeting. Jax has the face of a wounded angel, and the rest of the young man is as heart-breakingly perfect. Jax is beautiful in every way and teaching him about love and life will be something Dare will embrace. Like unwrapping and savouring the candy at the shop where he works, Dare will show this young man everything Jax desired but never thought he’d have, and take Jax to new highs while he holds him through the lows. Between them, they’ll find out just how sweet life can be.

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Series: Men of London #7
Release Date: April 28th 2016
Genre: New Adult MM Contemporary Romance

Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK | Boroughs Publishing | iBooks | Kobo | Smashwords

 

EXCERPT:

He wasn’t stalking his fantasy. He wasn’t.

Dare clamped his lips together mutinously as he hunkered down behind a towering oak. The tree lay on the outskirts, in the garden of a large Georgian house. From a distance, Dare watched as the beautiful blond man he’d been observing, thank you very much, tenderly placed what looked like flower bulbs in the rich soil. The man—whom Dare had first called Angel, though he now knew his name was Jax thanks to the younger kids playing in the garden yelling to him—leaned over. His pert jean-encased backside pushed out into the air and Dare swallowed, mesmerised by the enticing sight. A pang of guilt washed over his skin at the sneaking knowledge that yes, he could actually be deemed a stalker.

“I’ve only watched him a few times,” Dare murmured under his breath. “It’s not like I’m some pervert checking through the windows. I mean, the guy is in plain sight and there’s no boundary fence, so why shouldn’t I look? Anyone would. God, he’s gorgeous. A flawed angel with those blond curls and blue eyes.”

His wistful voice echoed in the quiet of the forest surrounding the large house called Castaways. It was some sort of place for homeless kids, Dare thought. He’d found this vantage point by accident one day when he’d been out gathering bits of greenery for his boss, Sally, an eccentric seventy-year-old woman who owned the sweet shop he’d managed for the past three years.

Some weeks ago, Sally had decided she wanted to display certain wildflowers in their place of work. She was also heavily into aromatherapy at the moment, so she sent Dare out each week to pick new blossoms and plants to further her ambitions to be a “flower child,” as Dare teasingly called it. He hadn’t minded. It had become a pleasant routine to take the short tube ride to Camden to perform what Sally loftily called his “ecological duties.” This secluded part of the woods around the area was the best place she knew of to find the flowers. Dare had caught sight of the beautiful man in the garden tending to a bunch of what looked like unruly kids, and now, having seen his Angel, Sally could send him out every day and Dare wouldn’t mind.

“But that would make me a stalker,” he said to himself. “So I’m not one now—yet.” He huffed and ducked back behind a bush as Jax turned to stare fixedly in his direction from underneath his wide-brimmed straw hat, an item Dare found rather endearing.

 

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Read the Men of London series:

Amazon | Boroughs Publishing | Goodreads

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COMING SOON ~ HARD CLIMATE (MEN OF LONDON #8)

PRE-ORDER: Boroughs Publishing | Goodreads

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Susan MacNicolSusan Mac Nicol is a self- confessed bookaholic, an avid watcher of videos of sexy pole dancing men, geek, nerd and in love with her Smartphone. This little treasure is called ‘the boyfriend’ by her long suffering husband, who says if it vibrated, there’d be no need for him. Susan hasn’t had the heart to tell him there’s an app for that…
She is never happier than when sitting in the confines of her living room/study/on a cold station platform scribbling down words and making two men fall in love. She is a romantic at heart and believes that everything happens (for the most part) for a reason. She likes to think of herself as a ‘half full’ kinda gal, although sometimes that philosophy is sorely tested.

Lover of walks in the forest, theatre productions, dabbling her toes in the cold North Sea and the vibrant city of London where you can experience all four seasons in a day , she is a hater of pantomime (so please don’t tar and feather her), duplicitous people, bigotry and self-righteous idiots.

In an ideal world, Susan Mac Nicol would be Queen of England and banish all the bad people to the Never Never Lands of Wherever -Who Cares. As that’s never going to happen, she contents herself with writing her HEA stories and pretending, that just for a little while, good things happen to good people.

Sue is a PAN member of Romance Writers of America and is a member of the Romantic Novelists Association in the UK.

CONNECT WITH SUE:

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Youtube | Pinterest | Amazon | Goodreads

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Blog Tour: Come What May (All Saints #1) by A.M. Arthur

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Come What May by A.M. Arthur
Series: All Saints Book One
Release Date: May 23, 2016
Pages or Words: 70,000 words, 320 pages (print edition)
Publisher: Carina Press
Cover Artist: Carina Press
Categories: Contemporary, Fiction, M/M Romance, New Adult, Romance

Today we’re thrilled to be interviewing A.M. Arthur, author of Come What May for her tour stop with us.
Welcome! Tell us a little about yourself, your background, and your current book.

Hello! I’m an m/m romance author, who mostly writes contemporary but occasionally delves into paranormal. I live in Hicksville, USA with two rambunctious cats and a large collection of horror film DVDs.

My newest release, Come What May, is the first in a new NA romance series with Carina Press. Jonas Ashcroft is suspended from college after a fraternity prank goes wrong, and he’s stuck working in his aunt’s thrift store—his very first job ever. Tate Dawson runs an LGBT homeless shelter nearby, and when their paths cross, sparks fly. So do insults, misunderstandings, and smexy times.

What genres do you enjoy writing in?

The bulk of my writing lately has been contemporary m/m romance. Sometimes I write New Adult, sometimes just plain adult. I’ve written paranormal and have a paranormal WIP (two, actually, come to think of it), so I like the freedom to play with ghosties and beasties. I’d like to write something historical one day, but my current list of projects is way too long.

What was the hardest part about writing this book?

A very big part of this book is the issue of LBGT+ youth homelessness. Their numbers are disproportionately high, compared their cis-het counterparts. One of my heroes, Tate, is a co-director of a homeless shelter for LBGT teens. While Tate was never homeless, his best friend and co-director Marc was, so they both have a driving need to give these kids shelter—even if only for one night.

I think the hardest part about writing this particular book was striking a balance between being informative and lecturing. I don’t want the book to sound like a PSA, but I do want to show that there are very real teenagers out there living in awful circumstances, simply because they’re not straight. It’s heartbreaking. A parent’s greatest task in life to love their child, regardless of their sexuality or gender identity. That any parent would turn their child out onto the streets for being themselves is appalling to me.

Sorry, rant mode off.

What did you enjoy most about writing your book?

Jonas. I loved writing him. He’s one of those characters who is snippy and rude, keeping people at arm’s length, because inside he’s such a tangled mess of insecurities. I really enjoyed showing him opening up to Tate, first in friendship, and then in a sexual relationship. Tate helped him learn what true intimacy is, and he gave Jonas the confidence to finally embrace himself.

What cultural value do you see in writing?

Human beings have been storytellers since the spoken word came about. First in solely oral storytelling, and later, the written word. In terms of value, the period when a book was written often reflects the values and traditions of the time period. And often, it’s the popular fiction of the past that is still alive today (Charles Dickens, even Shakespeare, wrote popular fiction). While I can’t imagine what people will think of Twilight a hundred years from now, but hopefully they’ll find something of value in Harry Potter.

What is your favorite positive saying?

I’ve only recently stumbled across this one, but I love it: She believed she could, and so she did.

Thank you so much for your time and thoughtful answers. We hope to host you again soon!

 

Blurb:

Jonas needs Tate. He just doesn’t know it yet.

Or at least, he doesn’t want to admit it. Because there is no way Jonas Ashcroft is gay. He’s a straight, carefree frat boy player, just like any good son of a conservative state senator. If only his struggle to convince everyone—especially himself—didn’t leave him so miserable. No matter how many girls or bottles he drowns himself in, Jonas can neither escape nor accept who he is.

Enter Tate. He’s smart, confident, and instantly sees right through Jonas’s surly exterior. Sure, he’s done things in life he’s not proud of, but he knows who he is and what he wants. And what he wants is Jonas. As their easy friendship intensifies into something more, Tate introduces Jonas to a life he’s never known. One filled with acceptance and sex and a love that terrifies and excites them both.

But some inner demons refuse to be shaken off so easily. When Jonas’s old life barges in, he faces a shattering choice, one that could destroy everything he and Tate have fought so hard for. Sometimes love just isn’t enough—and sometimes it’s exactly what you need.

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Excerpt:

“It’s small,” Jonas said.

“Better than a cardboard box or foster care.” The sharpness in Tate’s voice echoed in his frown.

Jonas had never known anyone before who’d been in foster care, and saying so would probably make him the biggest douche on the planet. It also took the edge off some of his irritation over the total mindfuck that was Tate Dawson. “It’s way better than both of those things. You worked hard for this place, Tate. I haven’t worked hard for anything in my life.”

“I disagree.”

He blinked. “You do?”

“Yes, I do. I think you work very, very hard to convince yourself and the world that you’re something you’re not. I think you work very, very hard to be perfect when no one is, and the only thing anyone should ever do is just be her or himself. Be true to you, not to what others want from you.”

Jonas’s throat squeezed tight. “I can’t.”

Tate took a step closer, bringing a gentle waft of sweat and something sweet. “Why not?”

He saw the barest reflection of himself in Tate’s glasses and he didn’t like it. He stepped back. Tate snagged his wrist and held him there. The touch sent awareness buzzing across his skin, down his spine and straight to his balls. H needed to pull away before this got out of control.

And then his rebel brain decided it was a good idea to glance at Tate’s pink lips. Lips that Tate, the asshole, licked with slow swipes of his tongue.

Jonas yanked away his hand away so hard Tate stumbled. “I’m not gay, so you can get that ‘fuck the frat boy’ fantasy out of your head right now.”

Instead of being cowed, Tate planted both hands on his hips and said, “Who are you trying to convince? Because it’s just you and me in this room, and I’m not the one who brought up your sexuality. You did.”

Damn him. “Why won’t you leave me alone?”

Tate’s gaze drifted over his face as he sought for words. “Because every time we’re together I can tell you’re struggling with something. You put up this lone wolf front to keep people at arm’s length so you don’t have to work so hard to pretend, but it’s exhausting you. Jonas, you can be yourself with me. Whoever that is.”

“I can’t.” Talking was getting harder around the lump in his throat. His heart was kicking too fast and his chest ached.

“Look me in the eye.” Tate closed the three strides between them, then curled a warm hand around the back of Jonas’s neck. “Look me in the eye and say you don’t want to kiss me right now.”

Meet the author:

A.M. Arthur was born and raised in the same kind of small town that she likes to write about, a stone’s throw from both beach resorts and generational farmland. She’s been creating stories in her head since she was a child and scribbling them down nearly as long, in a losing battle to make the fictional voices stop. She credits an early fascination with male friendships (bromance hadn’t been coined yet back then) with her later discovery of and subsequent love affair with m/m romance stories. A.M. Arthur’s work is available from Samhain Publishing, Carina Press, Dreamspinner Press, and SMP Swerve.

When not exorcising the voices in her head, she toils away in a retail job that tests her patience and gives her lots of story fodder. She can also be found in her kitchen, pretending she’s an amateur chef and trying to not poison herself or others with her cuisine experiments.

Where to find the author:

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/A.M.Arthur.M.A

Twitter: http://twitter.com/am_arthur

Tumblr: http://www.tumblr.com/blog/am-arthur

Website: http://amarthur.blogspot.com/

Our thoughts:

It’s a guarantee that I will read every book AM Arthur publishes. There’s something about her writing style, protagonists, and plots that greatly appeal to me. I consider her a tried and true author. She has an authentic voice through her characters and I thoroughly enjoy every novel I’ve read from her. So, if you’re looking for a hard ass review where I rip the book up, just walk away! Pure gushing will now ensue!

What did I loved about Come What May? Where to start! First, I’d have to say I liked Jonas. At first he comes across a bit of a spoiled brat, out-of-place in his new surroundings, but still feeling it out. He was more open than I expected him to be. He was really repentant for the past issue that put him in his current situation.

Being away from his parents pressures and those of the college and frat he was attending allow for Jonas to start some self discovery. He was able to reflect and also just be. Never in his life had he ever been able to just be himself. How suffocating. That would be exhausting as well. The more we get to know Jonas, the more I liked him. Rich kid, yes. Spoiled kid, not really. A kid struggling and looking for love and self-respect? Definitely!

I felt for him and the lack of concern shown by his parents for all his life and especially when he discovers his learning disability and he’s belittled for it. Heartbreaking.

Through all the struggles and self-reflection Jonas is enduring, we have Tate on the sidelines trying to be the most supportive new friend to Jonas. Tate has his act together. He raises his two sisters, runs a homeless shelter, and somehow manages to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. He doesn’t really have time for a relationship, but Jonas is just the guy to make him change that line of thinking. Tate is ‘adulting’ for real. Jonas is just finding himself. They’d appear to be opposites, but the attraction is too great to ignore. Once they get started there’s no stopping the runaway train that is their lust and affinity for each other. Tate is good about being firm with what he won’t do, like go back into the closet for Jonas, without pressuring him. He’s there if and when Jonas wants to come out to his aunt and uncle, and his parents.

I liked how Tate was the responsible, compassionate, mature one of the relationship. He balanced Jonas well and he wasn’t condescending or boastful. He was extremely patient and fell so hard for Jonas—I liked that. He wasn’t infallible and was willing to do what he needs to right things.

There were some background issues going on that help propel the story and cause some drama for our two heroes. Through it all, this was more a story of self discovery and finding true love. It stays an honest romance without a messy breakup or black moment. Just love, understanding, and growth. My favorites!

RATING: BAD ASS BOOTS!!!

Tour Dates & Stops:

23-May:

The Novel Approach, Gay Media Reviews, Gay Book Reviews, Man2ManTastic, Elisa – My Reviews and Ramblings, Mikky’s World of Books, Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents

24-May:

Oh My Shelves, MM Good Book Reviews, Attention Is Arbitrary, Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words

25-May:

Unquietly Me, Havan Fellows, Prism Book Alliance

26-May:

Love Bytes, Book Reviews and More by Kathy, Sassygirl Books

27-May:

Hearts on Fire, 3 Chicks After Dark, Multitasking Mommas

30-May:

Happily Ever Chapter, Books A to Z, Joyfully Jay

31-May:

Dawn’s Reading Nook, Jessie G. Books, Book Lovers 4Ever

1-Jun: My Fiction Nook, Boys on the Brink Reviews, Making It Happen

2-Jun: Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews, Full Moon Dreaming

3-Jun: V’s Reads, As The Pages Turn

6-Jun: Outrageous Heroes, BFD Book Blog

7-Jun:

Cathy Brockman Romances, Two Chicks Obsessed With Books and Eye Candy

8-Jun:

Three Books Over The Rainbow, Bayou Book Junkie

9-Jun:

Kirsty Loves Books, Divine Magazine

10-Jun:

Alpha Book Club, Molly Lolly

 

 
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RELEASE BLITZ: High Contrast by Tess Bowery

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Welcome to the Release Day Blitz for High Contrast from Tess Bowery! It’s not often that we share New Adult books at 3 Chicks, but this is one we couldn’t resist. Let it be known we have a soft spot for good guys. :) Enjoy!

ABOUT THE BOOK:

HighContrast72lgThe deepest scars aren’t the ones that show.

Jacob Shain is your average member of Generation Screwed. He has a boring internship, no cash flow, and a tiny NYC apartment he has to share with Ethan, his much-cooler, tattoo-artist twin brother. Not to mention his love life is DOA. At least, until his brother’s shop hires on a new piercer, and Jacob’s humdrum life takes a turn for the weird.

Cody Turner is gorgeous, funny and kind—everything Jacob wants in a boyfriend. Except for the way he refuses to talk about his past, or where he lives, or anything about his personal life.

When Ethan is arrested while on a mission of mercy, the reason Cody is so tight lipped comes to light. And while Jacob and Cody fight to understand the depth of their feelings for one another, the police dogs catch their scent. So does the local mob.

Now Jacob has to make the hardest choice of his life: stay safe like a good boy, or dive headfirst into a world he barely understands…and hope Cody is there to break his fall.

Warning: Contains a good boy who wants to be bad, a bad boy who longs to be good, bodies that are canvases for living art and high-speed chases with police dogs.

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Genre: New Adult contemporary gay romance (steamy)
Release Date: May 3rd, 2016

 EXCERPT:

“I changed my mind,” Jacob grumped, perching on the edge of the big, green dumpster. Garbage day apparently wasn’t today, which was good, because it meant more chance that the bag they were looking for was still here. But also very bad, in that the rusty hulk of a disposal unit was filled halfway with bulging black garbage bags, plastic shopping bags full of unidentifiable things, cardboard boxes slowly turning to slime, and some kind of liquid that Cody had splashed down in that smelled like a cross between a bog and a year’s worth of stinky diapers. “Ethan isn’t worth this.”

The sun was setting, the light low and shadows falling across the back alley to hide their activities. Ethan had been really specific about where he’d ditched the drugs, and there had only been one dumpster in the alley when Cody and Jacob had scaled the fence behind it—Cody easily, lithe and athletic, looking like he’d done this sort of thing lots before. Jacob, managing to get the hem of his T-shirt and the hem of his jeans caught on the top wires simultaneously.

Born for a life of crime, he was not.

Cody stood, knee-deep in trash, and planted his knuckles on his hips. He tipped his head up and looked at Jacob, the last little bit of evening light deepening the shadows falling across his face.

“Come on,” he coaxed. “You take that side, I’ll search this one, and we’ll be done before you know it.” He pulled a couple of pairs of blue latex gloves out of his back pocket and waved them in Jacob’s direction. “You don’t get in within the next minute, you have to do it bare-handed.”

“Blackmail,” Jacob grumbled, but he turned around, grabbed on to the edge, metal scraping along his palms and dropped down into the body of the dumpster and out of sight of the road.

“Think of it this way,” Cody said, handing him a pair of gloves. “You’re not doing it for Ethan, you’re doing it for Travis. And to keep me employed.”

“Oh, well, in that case.” Jacob struggled with the gloves, then watched Cody as he puffed air into them and snapped them over his hands. Latex. That sent his imagination off into places it really did not need to be going while standing knee-deep in a dumpster. Oh no, don’t go there right now.

Where to start? Ethan had dropped the bag as he ran across rooftops, he’d said, which meant it should be on the top—unless some of the refuse had been dumped in on top of it after the fact. “There’s something alive in here.” He muttered the Star Wars quote under his breath, kicking aside a box of what used to be cornhusks to reveal a couch cushion with all of its springs sprung and half the fabric shredded.

“It’s just your imagination, kid,” Cody replied with Han Solo’s next line in the scene, and yeah. They were on the same wavelength. “As long as the sides don’t start sliding in, we’re doing okay.”

Jacob bent over, the cushion easier—psychologically, anyway—to grab with the gloves on, and Cody went quiet behind him. “Oh, come on,” Jacob grunted, the cushion springs wrapped around part of a bicycle frame. “Move!” He pushed it over, then glanced over his shoulder, only to catch Cody in the act of whipping his head away.

“What?” Jacob asked, straightening up and trying his best to control the urge to scrub his hands off against his ratty old jeans. They already had holes in the knees and a worn-out patch on the back pocket from where he shoved his wallet, the denim so soft from wear that it almost felt like suede in some places. The last thing they needed was to be eaten away by garbage-juice. “Did you see something?”

“No.” Cody shook his head. He scrabbled in his thigh pocket, his ever-present cargos loose against his legs but snugged beautifully tight against his ass. Cody pulled out a little penlight and used the small beam to illuminate the pile of crap closest to him. Were his ears pink again, or was that a trick of the light? “I like the new look, by the way,” he said, and his voice sounded funny, like something was caught in his throat.

“What, this stuff?” Jacob looked down at himself again. Ethan’s Clash T-shirt, because it had been on the top of the hamper and was one he wouldn’t scream about if Jacob wrecked it, his ratty old “dirty jobs” jeans and old sneakers. “It’s not quite a spandex super-suit, I know, but—”

“Nah,” Cody replied, still looking at the piles of garbage rather than at Jacob, the light playing slowly over one stack, and then another. “It’s good. More relaxed.”

“Yeah, that’s me to a T—all calm and Zen.”

A laugh burst out from Cody at Jacob’s muttered comment, then a snort, which made the hilarity of the moment really clear. He broke out laughing as well.

“Did you just snort?”

“Did you seriously just say you were ‘Zen’?”

“I do yoga, sometimes. When Andi makes me. I can be Zen.”

“I’d pay serious cash money to see that,” Cody snorted again, this time on purpose.

“Missed your chance, dude,” Jacob shot back, his mouth running away with him. “I do a mean downward-facing-dog.”

Annnnnnnnd train wreck moment.

This time, Cody’s flush was obvious, from the tip of his nose all the way down along his neck. “I’ll bet,” he got out, in a kind of strangled choking sound. “Not that I’ve—uh—” He trailed off, then pivoted the ninety degrees to put himself facing Jacob, only about a foot of distance between them in the confines of the metal dumpster. “Not that I’ve spent time thinking about that or anything,” he said. He reached for the back of his neck but caught himself before he rubbed it, flexed his gloved hand and dropped it back to his side instead.

“Yeah,” Jacob breathed out. “Me either.” He’d been so good, he really had. Jerking it to thoughts of Cody had been so tempting, God, he had all kinds of mental images to use for fodder there, and he’d felt Cody’s breath up close, knew what he smelled like, and the heat of his skin.

And Cody had turned him down, so it would have been so intensely creepy and disrespectful that he hadn’t done it. Not once. This was almost like permission now, this acknowledgement of the vibe between them, except—

“Your—uh—yeah,” Cody said nonsensically. Then, “You should definitely wear those jeans more often.”

Something squished under Jacob’s foot, and he didn’t dare look down to find out what it was. The smell was beginning to go away, that or he was getting used to it, and that idea was even worse. But Cody was practically standing toe to toe with him, their faces only a few inches apart, and—and? And what next?

Cody said something, thank God, and Jacob didn’t have to. “So, uh. Hypothetically speaking. If someone makes a bad call and they want to take it back, but real life doesn’t have save points and I—I mean—someone isn’t sure if the option’s even really open anymore, how long would a guy have to…take it back?”

He was pouting, almost, his soft, full low lip jutting out that tiny little bit that made Jacob want to bite it, and suck on it, and lick him everywhere that he could reach.

Except maybe after a really long shower with antiseptic soap. Now.

Keep cool, keep calm, be the Zen you want to see in the world.

Good idea, good mantra, because really what he wanted to do was say “yes, yes, any time, take all the time, I’ll wait a lifetime if I have to”—and that wasn’t exactly an answer to his question.

What would Ethan say in this situation?

“Depends what kind of bad decision we’re talking about here,” Jacob said.

Cody shrugged a shoulder, still searching Jacob’s face for something. “I’m thinking it might be the life-changing kind.”

The breath caught tight in Jacob’s chest and he couldn’t get air past the block. Act natural. “I thought you had ‘stuff’ to work out?”

A nod from Cody, and he looked away. Dammit! “I—yeah. I still do. But I’m getting really close to shouting ‘fuck it’ at the universe,” he confessed, his back straightening and his head high again. “And I wish I hadn’t turned you down when you asked.”

“Same here,” Jacob said, and despite the darkness, despite the smell and the unknown things underfoot, the urgent need to find the evidence and get out, Andi waiting for them in the car three blocks away—Cody was right in front of him and he was the only thing that was important in the world. “I think we can work something out.”

I’m going to kiss Cody, and we’re standing in a dumpster, up to our knees in moldy garbage and things I don’t even want to think about, and I’m going to kiss Cody. In a dumpster.

Somehow, this is typical.

TEASERS:

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Tess Bowery lives near the ocean, which sounds lovely, except when it snows. An historian by training and a theater person by passion, she’s parleyed her Masters degree in English history into something that would give her former professors something of a surprise.

Her love for the Regency era began as they always do, with Jane Austen, and took a sharp left turn into LBGT biographies and microhistory. Now she indulges in both of her passions, telling the stories of her community in the time periods that fire the human imagination. High Contrast is her first foray into contemporary romance.

Along with writing, Tess splits her time between teaching, backstage work, LBGT activism and her family. She spends far too much money on comic books, loves superheroes and ghost stories, and still can’t figure out how to use Twitter properly.

CONNECT WITH TESS:

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BLOG TOUR: KNIT TIGHT by Annabeth Albert

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Today we’re thrilled to welcome the tour for Knit Tight, the latest book in Annabeth Albert’s steamy Portland Heat series. Check it out – you won’t want to miss the excerpt and giveaway! ;)

ABOUT THE BOOK:

Knit Tight COVER
Cover Artist: Fiona Jayde

It’s no secret that Portland, Oregon, has some of best restaurants, shops, and cafés in the country. But it’s the hard-working men who serve it all up that keep us coming back for more…

One of Portland’s hottest young baristas, Brady is famous for his java-topping flair, turning a regular cup of joe into a work of art. Every Wednesday—aka “Knit Night”—hordes of women and their needles descend on the coffeehouse, and Brady’s feeling the heat. Into the fray walks a tall, dark, and distractingly handsome stranger from New York. His name is Evren, and he’s the sexy nephew of Brady’s sweetest customer, the owner of the yarn shop down the street. He’s also got a killer smile, confident air, and masculine charm that’s tying Brady’s stomach in knots. The smitten barista can’t wait to see him at the next week’s gathering. But when he tries to ask Evren out, his plans unravel faster than an unfinished edge. If Brady hopes to warm up more than Evren’s coffee, he’ll have to find a way to untangle their feelings, get out of the friend zone, and form a close-knit bond that’s bound to last a lifetime…

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Published by Kensington Publishing
Book Length:  43,000 words
Categories: Contemporary, Erotica, Gay Fiction, Humor, M/M Romance, New Adult, Romance

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EXCERPT:

“Why? Am I turning you on?” My hand wandered over my fly. Not stroking, just firm pressure. We’d danced past sexy talk, far out of the friend zone, now meandering into something dark and heady. I pressed hard against my aching erection as I waited to see how far Ev would let himself go.

“Perhaps. I told you some things, now you tell me. What is your favorite thing?”

“Uh. The long, slow grinding ending in oral that you just described sounds amazing and hits a lot of my buttons. For the record, I’m totally good with…mess. And I like giving oral. Love getting my throat fucked. Being pinned down while grinding or getting my throat fucked, that gets me going.”

Ev was silent a long moment. Perhaps I’d pushed him too far. “Tell me about this throat fucking. How do you like it?”

Aw yes. I’d never had phone sex, but I had a feeling we were about to head in that direction. “Where are you right now?”

“In my bed. With a closed door. Are you going to ask me what I’m wearing next?”

“Knitted underwear?” I laughed as I headed for the bathroom—the one room with a lock. My usual jerk-off method was a locked door and a longer-than-necessary shower.

“Sorry to disappoint. Pajama bottoms. I worry Hala Mira could need me in the night.”

“Hey, you don’t have to apologize to me. I share a room with a ten-year-old. I’m going to the bathroom now, though. And locking the door.”

“You require a locked door to tell me about giving head?”

“I require a locked door, a quiet house, and about three hours to show you,” I countered. “Fuck, Ev. I want you to wear me out.”

“Oh, I could. Do not doubt that, Brady. You want me to wear your throat out? Use you so much you need me to feed you some gelato after?”

“Fuck yes,” I whispered. “I’d like it if you were on the bed or in a chair and I were kneeling in front of you. Or you were standing in front of me. Me on my knees is the key thing.”

“You ever try with your head over the edge of the mattress? It happens that this bed is the perfect height for that…”

“Oh yes. Tell me more. I want to jerk off while you fuck my throat like that.”

“Ah. But I don’t want that. Perhaps we will need to find other occupation for your hands.”

Oh man. Ev knew how to turn my crank big-time. “I’m good with having my hands tied.”

I could tell from his inhalation that it worked for him, too. “How flexible are you?”

“Bendier than I look. I had to do yoga stretching exercises to rehab a skateboarding injury. Turns out I dig it.”

“Nice. Very nice. I like your mouth very, very much.”

“Like the beard? Because if you want my mouth more…exposed, I can work with that. Beard is pure Northwest laziness on my part.”

“The beard is…part of the appeal. Your mouth is very full and your beard always seems like it’s…teasing. I think I want your hair down, though, yes?”

“Go for it.” Getting into it, I pulled my hair free of the ponytail, let it flop against my shoulders. Spit gathered in my mouth like I really was about to get a go at Ev’s cock. Fuck. Just the thought had me throbbing. I unzipped to get a little more breathing room. “I want to—”

Knock. Knock. Knock. “Brady, are you in there? I don’t feel so good,” Jonas called through the door.

Fuck. I kept my curse to myself. “Just a minute, buddy,” I called.

“You need to go?” Ev said in my ear. “I understand.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry.”

“Another time, Brady, another time.”

Even if he just meant the phone-sex version of the fantasy, part of me thrilled to his words. And I was pulling hard for the in-person.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Annabeth Albert grew up sneaking romance novels under the bed covers. Now, she devours all subgenres of romance out in the open—no flashlights required! When she’s not adding to her keeper shelf, she’s a multi-published Pacific Northwest romance writer.

Emotionally complex, sexy, and funny stories are her favorites both to read and to write. Annabeth loves finding happy endings for a variety of pairings and is a passionate gay rights supporter.  In between searching out dark heroes to redeem, she works a rewarding day job and wrangles two children.

Represented by Saritza Hernandez of the Corvisiero Literary Agency.

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