Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Pride Promotions presents Surrounded by Crimson by Lexi and a Giveaway!



Author Name: Lexi Ander

Book Name: Surrounded by Crimson
Series: Sumeria’s Sons
Book: Four
Series should be read in order for maximum enjoyment.

Release Date: July 1, 2015

Blurb:

Tristan has agreed to bond with Ushna but there is still much to do and returning to Tribe Enkidu puts everyone on edge. Tristan is being stalked like prey all the while fighting depression as he mourns the loss of Nikita and enduring a battle of wills with the Elder Council over his birthright. The pleading of his adoptive daughter only adds still more stress to the situation.

Stumbling onto a secret prison while searching for Ushna leads Tristan to risk everything to free a lost God. But breaking the tie to his Flame has more repercussions than Tristan knew and the assistance of a forgotten Goddess and a centuries old lover may not be enough to save him.





Pages or Words: 48,000 words

Categories: M/M Romance, Menage/Poly, Paranormal, Urban Fantasy

Excerpt:
Ushna was out of the car and greeting his parents before I unbuckled the seatbelt. Hami wasn't as tall as his son but he was wide, very wide, barrel-chested with a set of deltoids on him the size of small children. His dark hair was cut above the ears and I'd never seen the man without at least three days growth of facial hair. It looked good on him. That kind of scruff made me resemble a bum.

Donya was tall and lean, one of those women who had a natural sway when she walked. Her blue-black hair fell to her waist in thick glossy waves. Her skin was a deep almond, darker than her husband's or son's, and her bright, emerald-green eyes were large and expressive.

They both greeted Ushna with festive exuberance, and why not? I'd kept him away from them for a very long time. I observed them for a moment over the hood of the SUV. Hami picked his son up in a bear hug, laughing loud and boisterous. Donya took his face between her palms as she gazed deeply into his bi-colored eyes—eyes that were forever changed by me. At that thought, I wondered how they truly perceived me. My stomach rolled with anxiety-induced queasiness.

With all the grace of someone my size, I made my way into the house, leaving Ushna to his family reunion. I had hoped we wouldn't see them until after the children were born. I'd entered the home stretch of my pregnancy. Even with the ring of illusion, I had a hard time hiding my condition. Early in my pregnancy, Gregori had fashioned a ring of magic, creating the illusion that hid my continually growing stomach and constructed a normal appearance.

A pregnant male wasn't something we wanted to explain to humans. With the looming threat of assassination, if my identity was discovered, we thought it best to continue to keep my birthright a secret until after the children were born. So I'd continue to wear the illusion even though the ring wasn't much help now. The giveaway was in the walk and the way I stood. People could see there was something different by how I held my body and it couldn't be helped. I was able to hurry, in spurts, and then I lumbered like an elephant—very National Geographic.

Neesie followed me into the kitchen. She was dressed differently than what I'd become accustomed to. Gone were the combat boots, black jeans, and white tees. She wore a pale blue silk blouse, a pinstriped pencil skirt, and knee-high black stiletto boots. She appeared fierce in a whole new way.

"Why didn't you wait and greet Ushna's parents?" she asked.

With a plate in hand, I inspected the cold cuts tray that sat on the kitchen counter. I was starved and wanted something quick to eat before everyone came in. When I didn't answer Neesie, she took the plate from me and started placing fresh vegetables on it.

"I thought I'd give them some time to catch up," I finally replied. It wasn't a complete lie. "They haven't had their son to themselves in quite some time. They don't need me hanging out in the background."

Neesie pinned me with her golden-brown gaze. "That is such bullshit and you know it. What's the real issue?"

I quirked a smile at her. "You know I love ya?"

"Yes, and you're the one who called me for dating advice because you suck at subtle. Your 'hey moron, get your hands off my sister' ranked right up there."

"I can't help it if Mr. Octopus Arms was oblivious to his audience."

"Go ahead and keep playing that song because I know you still refer to him as Lonnie Fucking-Fowler. Before you walked into the house, your face turned green and you practically sprinted in here."

"Ahh, stampede!" I gave mock crowd screams. Neesie was not impressed.

"Spill, jackass." She shoved a full plate into my hands and a chair under my ass. Neesie glared at me but her expression was filled with concern.

"Fine, you tyrant. I wanted to make a good impression. I wanted to be able to show them that I am a strong partner and worthy of their son's love and devotion. But right now I'm huge, and miserable, and swollen, and hungry. Why did you give me carrots? You know I hate carrots. You're trying to torture me, aren't you? I'm an elephant, not a rabbit. I get like peanuts or something, not Bugs Bunny hand-me-downs." I threw the carrot at my cackling sister. The woman was not remorseful.

"Tristan."

I threw another carrot at Neesie before turning to see who called for me. I swallowed a curse as I faced Donya. She stood in the doorway, her large green eyes soft and liquid as she searched my expression.

"Ma'am?" Embarrassingly, my voice cracked like I was fourteen years old.

"How can we not be proud of you, son?" Donya crossed the room in a smooth glide and gently took me in her arms. "We've always been proud of you, Tristan, don't ever believe differently." Tentatively I embraced her in return and ignored Neesie's sniffles.





About the author:

Lexi has always been an avid reader, and at a young age started reading (secretly) her mother’s romances (the ones she was told not to touch). She was the only teenager she knew of who would be grounded from reading. Later, with a pencil and a note book, she wrote her own stories and shared them with friends because she loved to see their reactions. A Texas transplant, Lexi now kicks her boots up in the Midwest with her Yankee husband and her eighty-pound puppies named after vacuum cleaners.








Where to find the author:




Cover Artist: Londen Burden

Tour Dates & Stops:

27-Jul

28-Jul

29-Jul

30-Jul

31-Jul

3-Aug

4-Aug

5-Aug

6-Aug

7-Aug

Rafflecopter Prize:
1.      Prize offered: $20 Amazon Gift card, $20 All Romance Gift card, hard copy of Surrounded by Crimson, swag (pens, bookmarks)
2.      $20 All Romance Gift card, hard copy of Surrounded by Crimson, swag (pens, bookmarks)
3.      hard copy of Surrounded by Crimson, swag (pens, bookmarks)
4.      e-book copy of Surrounded by Crimson
5.      e-book copy of Surrounded by Crimson

Rafflecopter Code:



And now for the interview!!!





*waves* Thank you for having me on the blog today!!

What, in your opinion, are the most important elements of good writing?
In my opinion, the most important element is knowing how to put heart into your story. You can have perfect writing mechanics but if you can't put into words the heart that draws the reader in, then it becomes a book that is easy to put down and forget to pick back up again. When I'm reading, if the author doesn't set that hook in me that drags me along after page ten, I'll get distracted. Nine times out of ten, I'll put the book down and look for something else to read. I remind myself of that every time I sit down to pen the beginning of any story. Plot holes, bad grammar, fixing a plot arch, missing or thin world building—most everything else can be fixed through beta reading and editing. The world can be engaging and different, but if the reader is disinterested in the welfare of my characters, then I've failed.

Are you working on anything at the present you would like to tell us about? 
Ruby Red Booty Shorts and a Louisville Slugger is what I'm working on now. It's slated to re-release in September but there are several changes that I'm making to the original manuscript. It had been written for a holiday Submission call with a word count limit. It didn't qualify for the call but was accept for general submission. It wasn't on the market long before it was pulled off (publisher issues). The feedback that I received from the new publisher and editor seriously helped. Ruby Red is being expanded and the order of events rearranged. I did a lot of telling in the story, which will be fixed, and the relationship elements between Diego and Beck are being addressed. Because seriously, readers were plopped right down in the middle of the story and then sped right on through without seeing the relationship growth between the two. I'm a bit nervous about the changes because I've read the story one way for so long that I'm second guessing all of the rearranging. ^_^

How do you come up with the titles to your books?    
Sometimes I choose the title of the story before I start writing. That allows me to write incorporating the meaning of the title into the story. If I don't select the title before I begin, then usually I'll have it before I'm half way finished. That was what happened with Alpha Trine. But with Striker, I had the title before I wrote the story. That title was actually hinted at in Alpha Trine. Surrounded by Crimson was selected before I started writing the story because I knew what would happen to Tristan, but as I wrote I unintentionally wove it in to other elements of the story. The red tunics Tristan wears. What Tristan espied in the caldron. The one time I finished a story with having a title was Ruby Red Booty Shorts and a Louisville Slugger. That one my husband helped me with, taking two elements from the main character and shoving them together. But damn, it's a long title to write.

What did you want to be when you grew up?   
What did I not want to be? Imagine my disappointment when I discovered I couldn't really make a living riding horses. I wanted to be a history teacher, an archeologist, an author, a NASCAR driver, child psychologist, an author, a nurse, a football player, a choir teacher, a cartoonist, an author, beach volleyball player, a mom, and the list goes on. I hated that they said I had to choose just one occupations.

When writing descriptions of your hero/ine, what feature do you start with? Eyes, hair?
I just noticed this about myself. I start with the eyes, and I'm not sure why. Maybe because I pay attention to someone's eyes. They're so expressive.

If you had to do your journey to getting published all over again, what would you do differently?
Pick a different publisher to start with… LOL! Hindsight, I would have worked on my manuscript more, got a better handle on the mechanics, and completed the series before submitting the first book. Here lately, it feels like I'm always playing catch up on my own series because readers would like to have their story--now please. :D

Ebook or print? And why?
Both. Ebook because it's easy to store. Although I've been scared that I'll lose data and I'll have books that aren't recoverable. Some places like Amazon and All Romance have my bookshelf, but not all places are like that or they've gone out of business.
Print because I love getting author autographs. I don't care if I have the ebook, if I can get a signature I'll buy the book again. I also like print because I can easily get my friend addicted to my favorite stories just by handing them my copy. They can thank me later and hide from their spouse when they too become addicted to the author and then buy the back list.
If I really like the author or the book I will also buy the audiobook. No joke. I could have both ebook and print and still buy it to listen to. I'm a huge re-reader. So being able to have access to my favorite reads regardless of where I am is awesome. ^_^

Thank you for stopping by and reading. Good luck with the giveaway!


Monday, July 27, 2015

Pride Promotions presents The Sidhe by Charlotte Ashe and a giveaway



Author Name: Charlotte Ashe

Book Name: The Heart of All Words, Book One: The Sidhe

Release Date: July 21, 2015


Blurb:
Since his childhood, Brieden Lethiscir has admired The Sidhe, the beautiful and magical beings native to the Faerie world outside his homeland of Villalu. Though he grew up in a culture accepting of Sidhe enslavement by Villalu’s elite, Brieden finds that he can no longer tolerate the practice when he becomes a steward to Prince Dronyen, who is viciously abusive of his sidhe slave Sehrys. Captivated by the handsome and mysterious sidhe slave, Brieden vows to free and return Sehrys to his homeland.
As they escape the capital and navigate a treacherous path to the border, Breiden and Sehrys grow close. Breiden soon learns both the true power of The Sidhe, and that the world that he thought he knew is not what it once seemed. If they survive to reach the border, he will have to make a choice: the love of his life, or the fate of his world.

Pages or Words: 442 pages

Categories: Fantasy, Fiction, Gay Fiction, M/M Romance, Romance

Excerpt:
The sidhe was tall, supple and lithe, as all sidhe tended to be, with milk-pale skin that glowed like moonlight over lean, taut muscles. Like all the others before him, he was naked, giving potential buyers a full picture of what they were bidding on.
And he was extraordinary, head to toe.
His chin-length hair was violet-red and it gleamed in the afternoon sun. His lips were pink and delicate with a pronounced bow, his nose had a narrow, smooth slope and his eyes...
His eyes.
It wasn't that they were the most incredible color imaginable: a storm of deep, contrasting, impossible greens unlike any Brieden had ever seen. And it wasn't that they were large and almond- shaped beneath a fan of plum-colored lashes.
It was that they were full to the brim with life.
Never before had Brieden seen a sidhe slave with such lively and expressive eyes, even as he stood for auction. Those eyes were not dull or defeated in the slightest. Wary, yes, and utterly devoid of trust, but also blazing.
Blazing like the eyes of that sidhe Brieden had seen at the riverbank when he was twelve years old— the only free sidhe Brieden had ever had the chance to behold.
The elf stood on that platform as if he owned it. As if he were judging every human man before him, and not the other way around.
He tucked a lock of hair behind a delicately pointed elfin ear, then jutted his chin to reveal a chiseled jaw that contrasted beautifully against his tender features.
And though he knew it was insane, Brieden was quite sure that he was in love.

Sales Links:





About the author:
Charlotte Ashe is a social worker by day and a writer of romantic fantasy by night.  A long-time fan of speculative fiction that skews feminist and features LGBTQ characters, Charlotte loves writing stories that are sexy, heartfelt, and full of magic and adventure. She has put her B.A. in literature and creative writing to use over the years as a writer of online fan-based fiction, and her most popular work has drawn more than one million readers worldwide, been translated into several languages, and been featured in online publications including The Backlot.

Charlotte lives in Portland, Maine and can be found sleeping at the beach all summer and clomping along the cobblestones in her Bean boots all winter, writing fairytales in her head to distract from the cold.




Where to find the author:


Publisher: Interlude Press
Cover Artist: Sarah Sanderson




Tour Dates & Stops:
21-Jul

22-Jul

23-Jul

24-Jul

27-Jul

28-Jul

29-Jul

30-Jul

31-Jul

3-Aug

Rafflecopter Prize: Grand Prize: $25 Interlude Press gift card; also, five multi-format eBoook editions of THOAW: The Sidhe

Rafflecopter Code:







And now for the interview!






Tell us about how you do your world-building.

It happens in layers. I pick a starting point and then I think about what layers it needs to support it. What historical events helped to mold the culture the reader is introduced to? How important is religion to the culture in question, and how does the predominant religion(s) shape the culture’s view of morality? What are the rules the characters must live by, both those that are flexible/socially constructed and those that are inflexible, such as the rules of magic? Then I look at the world I’ve build as if I were a reader, and try to tear it apart and find inconsistencies and weak spots, and then I work on those inconsistencies and weak spots until I have something that feels tight and solid. When I’m really lucky, mending inconsistencies can lead me to some of my best ideas.



What is your take on the future of Science Fiction/Fantasy in general? Do you see it expanding and vibrant, or derivative and stale?

Expanding and vibrant, for sure! The beauty of speculative fiction is that not even the sky is the limit. The sky is just the beginning. There is no law, no rule, no convention, no assumption that needs to be a given in fantasy/sci fi. There are some stale and derivative books out there, sure, but this genre really lends itself to blazing one’s own path. I think that speculative genres by their very nature will always be expanding and vibrant, because so many of the people drawn to write in them are so incredibly imaginative.



Do you write in multiple genres or just one? If just one, do you ever consider straying outside your genre?


I love writing romantic fantasy, but I definitely plan to write outside the genre in the future. Not terribly far outside the genre, mind you—I could happily write fantasy without a concentration on romance, and I definitely plan to write science fiction in the future, because I absolutely adore sci fi. I would also love to write YA fantasy featuring LGBTQ characters eventually. Some of the best speculative fiction being written right now is YA, in my opinion.




What are the best and worst pieces of writing advice you ever received?

The best, always and forever, was “kill your darlings.” It hurts like hell, but it’s so important. Learning to let go of content that I love that simply doesn’t work for the story has helped me develop a thicker skin, and it’s made me a better writer. The worst was “don’t write junk.” In this context “junk” meant things like romance and sci fi and fantasy. But especially romance. I majored in literature and creative writing in college, and I learned to feel ashamed and frivolous for the kinds of things I loved to read and write about. It took me a long time to really overcome the damage that this “advice” from a well-meaning but clueless professor did to my dreams of becoming a writer. What I’ve come to realize is that if you write something you love, it is not junk. And if you’re lucky enough that even one other person loves it too, it becomes treasure.




Ebook or print? And why?

It really depends on what I’m reading. I have an e-reader that I carry with me in my purse and I read most books that way. But I have learned that books with strong visual components don’t really work this way, and that I hate reading cookbooks in digital form. If the words alone are enough to carry the story, I love ebooks. They also take up a lot less space on my bookshelf.




What is your work schedule like when you are writing?

These days I’m never not writing! If I were a full-time writer I would probably start right after breakfast, but I have a day job that needs my full attention for most of the day. So I generally spend my evenings writing during the week, and my mornings writing on the weekend. 




Do you ever suffer from writer’s block? If so, what do you do about it?

Writer’s block is the worst! And unfortunately, the only way to deal with it is to power through it. I have time set aside to write each day, and I force myself to write during this time. I even installed a program on my computer that blocks the internet during my writing time so that I can’t procrastinate. If there’s something I need to look up, I just highlight it and go back to it after my allotted time is up. If I do take a break, I have rules: I must do something active (like take a walk or do some dishes) so that my brain can have a break, and I must make it very strictly time-limited, like 10 minutes. Those types of breaks can actually help, as long as they’re used sparingly. Overall, I’ve found is that if I force myself to keep writing—however slowly—when it’s hard, I usually break through and hit my stride at some point during the process. I think discipline, practice and routine are the only remedies for writer’s block, which sucks, because when you’re blocked the last thing you want to do is exercise discipline.



Are you a plotter or a pantser?

A bit of both, but more of a pantser, definitely. If I plan too much out ahead of time, I just end up scrapping a lot of it when I’m into the nitty-gritty of writing anyway, so I usually don’t bother. I always have a general idea of what’s going to happen, but I like to give myself the freedom to veer off course if it will lead me to better material. Ideas often come to me while I’m physically writing, sometimes even ending up on the page before I’ve consciously thought them through. I write fast and messy and then I go back and edit within an inch of my life. I’ve tried other methods, but this is the one that works best for me.





Thursday, July 23, 2015

In Enemy Hands Ch 10. 2

Here's the page for the whole story so far: http://machurch00.blogspot.com/p/in-enemy-hands.html


In Enemy Hands 


After they cleaned the mess Varo made, Varo took a shower to get the food off him. While he was in the shower, Adlar sat in the couch and commed Omori. He wanted a few minutes to speak to his brother alone.
                    
Later they would go together later to speak to Omori in an official capacity, but for now, he wanted to savor this. Omori’s features swam on-screen, and Adlar told him what he’d done and what he planned to do.

“Congratulation, my brother. I’m happy for you. Can’t say I’m surprised to hear it. I’ve never known you to alter course after you set your mind on something. So you removed the collar. You told him how you feel. Good. Does he feel the same as you?”

“Yes. He said he loves me too.”

“Excellent. Never thought I’d see the day a Helkan and Yesri mate, but stranger things have happened.”

“Oh? What to name a few?” Adlar asked.

“Um, not right off hand. But I’m sure there are some. Somewhere. Maybe. Huh. I might need to set the royal scribe on this task on second thought.”

“I see your sense of humor is still as dry as a desert.”

“At least I have one.” Omori waited until Adlar stopped laughing. “What? I do. Anyhow, you plan to claim him, you said. Do you know when? I guess I should tell you now you aren’t going to be able to do this quietly.”

“What do you mean? Of course we can. All I want is a simple ceremony. Maybe in your private garden with a few friends and… okay, why are you laughing again? Frack. I hate when you laugh. Nothing good ever comes from that.”

“You are my brother,” Omori said. “You are the second most powerful male on the planet outside of my child. Our people know you. You may be feared, but you’re also loved. Varo is a prince. Granted, a captured prince, but still a prince.”

“I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“‘Fraid not. Your mating will be announced universewide,” Omori said once again assuming the mantle of leadership. “The Yesri will probably not react favorably, but I’ll deal with that. Not much they can do anyway.”

“His father will probably blow a containment field.”

“Not just a gasket? A whole containment field? Omori’s professional masked slipped, and he chuckled. “Well, let’s just say… one can hope.”

Adlar snickered. He agreed. A noise sounded behind him, and he cringed. He turned and there stood Varo. Well, frack. How long has he been there?

Varo sat next to Adlar, but didn’t say anything about what he heard.

Omori noticed Varo. “Greetings, Varo, and congratulations. Adlar told me everything. I am sincerely pleased to welcome you to my family.”

“Greetings, Your Majesty, and t-thank you. That... that means a lot to me,” Varo said.

“None of that royal title rot when it’s just us,” Omori said, waving his hand. “You’re soon to be my brother-in-law, after all.”

“Omori hates all that bowing and scraping that comes along with being king,” Adlar whispered to Varo.

Omori rolled his eyes. “Please. So you do, so don’t start on me. Anyway, as I was saying, I’ll have the announcement on-planet once you set a date. We can do it in my private gardens if you’ll allow me to open the palace for a celebration.”

“Oh good gods, this is going to turn into a circus.” Adlar settled back on the couch and pulled Varo with him.

“That’s the price you pay for being royalty.” Varo nudged Adlar with his elbow.

“Indeed,” Omori said. “Our people need to see the two of you together, Adlar. They need to see the feelings between you both. It will help with overall sentiment.”

“Yeah, I don’t like this.” Adlar sighed. “You do realize the nightmare security will be, yes?”

“It’ll be handled. This is too big to be kept quiet so don’t ask that of me.” Omori glanced off-screen and frowned at something Adlar couldn’t see. He turned back to Adlar. “I have something to finish up here, and then I have session court. I can’t delay that. I’d like for you and Varo to attend me this evening for the final meal. We’ll talk more then.”

“Sounds good. We’ll be there.” Adlar said goodbye and shut down the comm.

Varo faced Adlar after the screen went black. “Are… are you sure you want to do this? It’s going to cause all sorts of ripples in your society.”

“I have no doubts. None at all. What’s life without some ripples? I’m not afraid to shake things up. Do you have doubts?”

“No, but it isn’t going to be easy. Besides how your people respond, there’s also my family. You jokingly mentioned my father blowing a containment field—and him being furious is a real possibility—but he could react in a totally different way than expected. You and your brother need to prepare.”

“What do you think he could possibly do he hasn’t already tried?” Adlar asked.

“The thing is, by mating me, you tie yourself to me—and through me… him. He might try to capitalize on our joining. He’d be your father-in-law, and as such he might try to claim the right to attend the joining.”

Adlar’s first reaction was to laugh. “Oh, he can claim all he wants, but Omori isn’t going to let him set foot on our planet. We’re certainly not going there for some contrived visit, either. I wouldn’t put it pass him to try to take me hostage and use me against Omori. Or take you hostage and use you against me.”

“He’d do anything to get his hands on the abundance of Black Phospolrock your people control. Anything,” Varo stressed.

“We are aware, believe me. Because of some species’ inability to take no as an answer, we had to set up Satellite Surveillance Network that surrounds out planet. The Yesri was the main one, though.”

Varo took a deep breath then exhaled slowly. “I’ll tell you why. Our kingdom is close to being bankrupt. My father has made some unwise investments, but that’s not all. He’s used money allotted to certain branches of the government for other… things. Things that only benefit him. Jewels, silks, whores, other homes, outrageous parties… it never ends. His spending is shocking, but he keeps spending instead of cutting back.”

“We knew he was greedy.”

“Greedy and reckless. For the past several years he’s upped taxes, but the economy is still horribly unstable. The middle class is unhappy with him and the rest of us in the ruling family. The poor are desperate. Things are bad, Adlar. Really bad.”

“Is civil war possible?” Adlar asked.

“Maybe. The rich keep getting richer and the poor keep getting poorer. My father ignores it all, but trouble is brewing under the surface. Now this. He will try something. This is too much of an opportunity for him to pass up.”

“For all the good it will do him.”

Varo took Adlar’s hand. “He may be vain and an ass, but he’s also ruthless. The only thing he cares about is money and power. Don’t underestimate him.”

“I won’t. Now come, let’s try the first meal again, shall we? I’m still hungry.”

Varo stood with Adlar. “I really am sorry about that. First time I had a meal in bed and I messed it up. I really can be a jerk sometimes.”

Adlar placed a quick kiss on Varo’s lips. “There will be more times, I promise. Many, many more times.”

TBC

*edit: There was a mistake pointed out by one of my readers that I corrected. If you read the comments, you'll see. LOL, this is why comments mean so much! That was a huge oopsie on my part. :)
~M

Friday, July 17, 2015

Pride Promotions presents Buchanan House by Charley Descoteaux and a giveaway!




Author Name: Charley Descoteaux

Book Name: Buchanan House

Release Date: August 19, 2015


Blurb:
Eric Allen, thirty-three-year-old line cook, moved in with his grandmother, Jewell, after a disastrous coming-out when he was in middle school. She raised him, and he cared for her when she fell ill. When Jewell died she left everything to Eric—angering his parents and older brother. The inheritance isn’t much, but Eric and his bestie Nathan pool their money and buy an abandoned hotel on an isolated stretch of the Central Oregon Coast. The hotel isn't far from Lincoln City—a town with its own Pride Festival and named for a president—so they christen it Buchanan House after James Buchanan, the “confirmed bachelor” president with the close male friend.
Eric and Nathan need a handyman to help them turn Buchanan House into the gay resort of their dreams. Eric finds Tim Tate in the local listings and over the months leading to opening weekend Tim reveals himself as a skilled carpenter with many hidden talents. Eric falls hard for Tim, but before he can see a future with the gorgeous handyman he has to get over twenty years of being bullied and shamed by his birth family. It would be much easier if Eric’s brother Zach weren’t trying to grab part of the inheritance or ruin opening weekend.


Pages or Words: 45,000 words

Categories: Romance, Bisexual, Contemporary, Fiction, Gay Fiction, M/M Romance

Excerpt:
Timothy Tate knocked on the front doors at eight o’clock sharp. Eric had barely been up long enough to start coffee, and Nathan had yet to emerge. They’d slept in one of the rooms on the first floor. The official reason was to avoid having to clean two rooms, but the unofficial reason was to talk into the night like they had back in middle school. Slumber parties for thirtysomethings. Somehow that didn’t make Eric feel any better about meeting this Tim person.
But opening the door sure did.
Tim Tate was as tall as Nathan, so six one, and he had curly black hair and eyes so dark you could get lost in them.
“Morning.” He wasn’t much for smiling, though.
“Good morning. Please come in. I’m Eric.”
Tim nodded and seemed to be looking at something behind Eric’s right shoulder. As soon as Eric remembered to step aside, Tim came in. “You bought this place?”
“Yes. Isn’t it lovely? The inspector said the bones are solid, and someone did amazing work on the rooms. Right now, we need help with the kitchen and some reno on the public areas.”
“Should tear it down and start fresh.”
“I beg your pardon. That’s a horrible thing to say. You don’t discard something just because it’s not perfect. With a little love—maybe this isn’t going to work out.”
Tim shrugged and looked around the room. His face seemed to soften into… nostalgia? It held a wistful quality, of that much Eric was certain.
“Have you been in this room before?”
Tim had turned away a little, so the left side of his face pointed toward Eric.
Is that his best side?
He didn’t answer, so Eric repeated the question, a little louder.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. When I was a kid. Sometimes the local clubs would use it for summer camps. It’s been empty for over ten years.”
“Why? I mean, did something happen here?”
“No. The owners died, and their kids didn’t want to live out here. Can’t blame ’em. Entertainment isn’t easy to come by.”
Nathan chose that moment to enter, in his pink robe with the ostrich-feather trim. He spoke quickly, almost dancing through the room and toward the aroma of coffee. “Good morning. You don’t mind I borrowed your robe? And this must be Tim. Lovely to meet you, sweetheart. Coffee, then business.” He flounced into the kitchen.
Eric and Tim watched him go. The silence in his wake stretched out a little too long for Eric, mortified by the thought Tim might believe the robe belonged to him.

Sales Links: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=6718


About the author:
Charley Descoteaux has always heard voices. She was relieved to learn they were fictional characters, and started writing when they insisted daydreaming just wasn’t good enough. In exchange, they’ve agreed to let her sleep once in a while. Charley grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area during a drought, and found her true home in the soggy Pacific Northwest. She has survived earthquakes, tornadoes, and floods, but couldn’t make it through one day without stories.



Where to find the author:
Goodreads Link:
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: LC Chase

Tour Dates & Stops: July 17, 2015
Rafflecopter Prize: Backlist book of choice from Charley
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