Tag: LGBTQ Romance

Iguana by Vincent Traughber Meis Review

On By authoranthonyavinablogIn reviewsLeave a comment

I received a free copy of this book in exchange for a fair and honest review. All opinions are my own. 

After losing his parents and ending a long-term relationship, a man relocates to Mexico to find a new beginning. In Vincent Traughber Meis’s “Iguana,” he begins a complex relationship with a divorced young father.

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The Synopsis

Reeling from the end of a long-term relationship and the death of his parents during the COVID years, Dawson Wozniak attempts to reinvent himself in Mexico. He is able to continue his job, working remotely as an editor for a West Coast publisher. He dives into this new world, making friends with ex-pats and Mexicans, including a best-selling author who has abandoned writing, the author’s wife who guides him along the path of his new life in a fun-loving seaside town, and a quirky repatriated Mexican with new-age ideals. 

One night during a raging thunderstorm, Dawson has an encounter with an iguana and then steals a kiss from a young man unsure of his sexuality. A minute later the two men witness the death of a young Mexican falling from the roof of Dawson’s building. These events are forever connected in his head, charting a course for a rocky relationship with Ivan, the divorced father with whom he shared the kiss. Dawson is forced to take a hard look at himself and what it means to be a foreigner in Mexico, causing him to make decisions that complicate his life and Ivan’s. They are thrown into a web of emotional, psychological, and moral dilemmas. Despite the complications, Dawson believes his new life is the antidote to the unfulfilling life he left behind in the States. The enigmatic attraction between the two men finds its own tempo and they keep coming back to each other against all odds while Dawson’s other friends alternate between warning him about and applauding his new relationship. 

The Review

What a profoundly engaging and memorable read! The author created complex, relatable, and thoughtful characters that readers could identify with and become enamored with. The delicate balance between living one’s truth and understanding the complexity of society plays into the narrative as the story evolves and grows, and readers become immersed in the characters’ lives so thoroughly.

The heart of this story is the web of themes that intertwine with one another. The heartbreak that comes with loss, from the protagonist’s parents and the young man who falls to his death, to even the encounter with the titular Iguana, made this theme stand out firmly from the beginning. Mixed with this is the theme of identity, and seeing the protagonist own his sexuality while having to learn about the cultural and societal hardships that the people he becomes close with throughout the narrative made this a powerful story to read.

The Verdict

Thoughtful, heartfelt, and engaging, author Vincent Traughber Meis’s “Iguana” is a must-read novel. The narrative’s nature, delving into the losses that so many experienced during the COVID-19 pandemic and the idea of personal identity in a changing world still embedded in deep cultures, makes it one of my favorite reads of 2025 thus far. If you haven’t yet, be sure to grab your copy today!

Rating: 10/10

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About the Author

Vincent Meis grew up in Decatur, Illinois and graduated from Tulane University in New Orleans.

He has worked as an English as a Second Language (ESL) teacher in the San Francisco Bay Area, Spain, Saudi Arabia and Mexico, publishing many academic articles in his field as well as articles about teaching ESL overseas. He has also traveled extensively in Europe, North Africa, the Middle East, the Caribbean, and Central and South American. He is fluent in Spanish. As result of his travels and time abroad he published a number of pieces, mostly travel articles, but also a few poems and book reviews, in publications such as, The Advocate, LA Weekly, In Style, and Our World in the 1980’s and 90’s. His travels have inspired four novels, all set at least partially in foreign countries: Eddie’s Desert Rose (2011), Tio Jorge (2012), and Down in Cuba (2013) and Deluge (2016). Tio Jorge received a Rainbow Award in the category of Bisexual Fiction in 2012. Down in Cuba received two Rainbow Awards in 2013. Deluge won a Rainbow Award in 2016. Recently his stories have been published in several collections, including WITH:New Gay Fiction, Best Gay Erotica Vol 1and Best Gay Erotica Vol 4. In December 2019, his fifth novel Four Calling Burds will be published. In 2021, he has published two books with NineStar Press, The Mayor of Oak Street, a novel, and Far from Home, a collection of short stories.

https://www.vincentmeis.com/

BLOG TOUR: THE GREAT FOREST AND OTHER LOVE STORIES BY WARREN ROCHELLE + GUEST POST

On By authoranthonyavinablogIn Blog Tours, Book Events, Guest PostLeave a comment
The Great Forest and Other Love Stories - Warren Rochelle

Warren Rochelle has a new FF/MM romance fantasy/sci-fi short story collection out: The Great Forest and Other Love Stories. And there’s a giveaway!

“The course of true love never did run smooth” might be a cliché, but for the lovers in these stories, it’s an understatement. Consider: having to rescue your beloved from seven years of service to sentient trees, or your lover wants you to curse an entire town, or your husband is sure aliens are calling to him from a comet. Find out what happens in these and other stories in The Great Forest and Other Love Stories.

Warnings: neglectful parents, end of the world

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Warren is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:

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Excerpt

The Great Forest And Other Stories - Warren Rochelle

Chesapeake Air and Spaceport, North Terminal, Interplanetary Concourse A

The sun shimmered on the water, as the train pulled into the Chesapeake Air and Spaceport RR station. He gathered his things and walked out onto a winding path, into a garden of dwarf sugar maples and ash trees. The path led him over a little bridge and a stream, and lavender star-shaped flowers. He stopped there to collect himself, to remember what his therapists had taught him, Alana on Avalon, and Gavin and Julia, at Blue Ridge. Deep breaths, center and focus on the safe, on the gurgle of the stream below his feet, the star-shaped flowers, blooming by the water. Interrupt his fear-talk looping, be present now. The main building of the spaceport was straight ahead. The building seemed almost made of sunlight and water. Sea turtles, eels, dolphins, and sea horses seemed to be swimming inside its walls.

Inside, the spaceport would be filled with people from all across Terra, from who knew how many HC planets. And aliens. Strangers, all of them. Breathe in for three, hold for four, release for five. Center. Through the sliding glassteel doors, follow the signs to the ticket kiosks. Everybody was busy, going, coming. Edvard was just one more young human.

He could do this, and he had done it. He could do it again. He could hear Luc telling him that, as he touched him, kissed him.

I’m coming.

No answer.

Scattered trees inside, fountains and pools. Whoever designed the spaceport must have wanted it to look as if it was part of the bay itself. Water currents and tree-shapes in the metal and glassteel, the beams, and the afternoon sun visible in a great skylight over the departure lobby. Were those real birds flying overhead? Edvard caught the off-world accents he knew as he walked—Avalonian, Jardinero, New Scandinavian. A trio of enhanced chimpanzees, clearly traveling on business. He tried to stare at the nest of Kalsons traveling together, with their pointed ears, white-gold hair, and skin. Like Luc and his father. There were a few Kalsons like Manon with skin a darker gold, hair, a deep brown. He stepped back, as did everyone around him, at who he saw next coming down the concourse. Even though the Second Interstellar War had ended thirty-three standard years ago, clearly not enough time had passed for any Zoki to walk through the one of the largest spaceports on the North American east coast without armed HC security. No one had forgotten how many thousands of Wertyngeris had either died or were put in hibernacula for years, or how many of the frozen had been thawed and eaten. No one had forgotten how many HC soldiers died in the war. Yes, the war had ended with a palace coup, led by the Zoki crown princess. She had immediately offered reparations for the atrocities on Wertynger, and they had been paid, and were still being paid.

Edvard watched as the reptilian Zoki, all dressed in white, with ashes on their forehead, walked silently through the spaceport, staring at the floor. According to the treaty ending the war, the Zoki had to publicly atone for eating sentient life. The crown princess, now empress, had suggested fifty Terran standard years of shame and public penance. She had acknowledged that not all Zoki had known or participated, but the government she had overthrown had known, and it had had wide popular support.

Never again.

Someone spat on the floor as the Zoki and their guards walked past. He wondered if fifty Terran standard would be enough penance.

Edvard stepped in front of a ticket kiosk beside a family which was clearly emigrating. Everybody seemed to be carrying some sort of luggage, the three kids, the two dads. He inserted his passport and Universal ID into the kiosk, and selected shuttle to the station, star service to Wertynger, Next available ship, leaving Union Station. An option for stasis for the three week trip in hyperspace? Maybe after week one. Micro-cabin, no, too claustrophobic. Single double, Family? Single. It felt like forever for funds verification. Ding! Transaction complete. Please proceed to Concourse B, Gate 29, shuttle already boarding. Proceed to gate, please have ID and passport ready.

He had done it.

Author Bio

Warren Rochelle

Warren Rochelle lives in Crozet, Virginia, with his husband, and their little dog, Gypsy. He retired from teaching English and Creative Writing at the University of Mary Washington in 2020. His short fiction and poetry have been published in such journals and anthologies as Icarus, North Carolina Literary Review, Forbidden Lines, Aboriginal Science Fiction, Collective Fallout, Queer Fish 2, Empty Oaks, Quantum Fairy Tales, Migration, Clarity, Innovation, The Silver Gryphon, Jaelle Her Book, Colonnades, and Graffiti, as well as the Asheville Poetry Review, GW Magazine, Crucible, The Charlotte Poetry Review, and Romance and Beyond. His short story, “The Golden Boy,” was a finalist for the 2004 Spectrum Award for Short Fiction.

Rochelle is the author of five novels, including The Wild Boy (2001), Harvest of Changelings (2007), and The Called (2010), all published by Golden Gryphon Press. The Werewolf and His Boy, originally published by Samhain Publishing in September 2016, was re-released from JMS Books in August 2020. In Light’s Shadow: A Fairy Tale was published by JMS Books in 2022.

Author Website: https://kingdomofjoria.com/

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/warren.rochelle

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/warrenwriter/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/38355.Warren_Rochelle

Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/warren-rochelle/

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The Great Forest and Other Love Stories

When did I know I wanted to write? I first  read The Chronicles of Narnia in the third grade, and I fell in love. I decided then and there I wanted to be a writer. I wrote an awful rip-off of  Narnia in homage, but with a High Queen, not a High King. Somewhere in her realm was the Plain of Fire and the Plain of the Moon, so named for the color of the grass growing on each plain. Instead of centaurs, I had bucentaurs, who have bovine  (or ox bodies). To be honest, I think I discovered this chimera sometime after third grade.  Mercifully, more specific memories are hazy and the manuscript (in a three-ring binder) has been lost.

When did I know I was good at writing? This came slowly over the years, most often in affirmations from teachers, from junior high through college. I won an Honorable Mention in a Scholastic contest.  in the 9th Grade for a poem about a green-skinned boy, half-human, half-alien, who couldn’t handle his telepathic powers. I got published in my high school literary magazine, and again in my undergraduate literary magazine.  All of these helped me to know that I could write well.

My first publication was a short story, “Her Hands Curved Around the Cup,” in the now-defunct Graffiti, in Fall 1978. This melancholy tale is about an old, lonely woman grieving for her long-dead husband, and haunted by a childhood tragedy. She marks the days of the week by drinking different teas. She reads poetry.  She is so very sad and lonely. It was a very morose tale. 

What do I when I get writer’s block? To be honest, I can’t say I have, at least in the way I think this question is asking: not being able to write at all. Instead, for me, what happens sometimes is that I get this amazing idea, and I set down and write and write, pages, chapters even. Then, it fizzles out, and the story seems to have died, or gone to sleep.  Or maybe, it’s just not the right time for the story to be told.  What I do then is let it sit for a while—usually a good long while, or leave it be. I sometimes go back to the story—a long later—and try to resuscitate the tale. This usually works, but the revived story is often a lot of different. In this collection, the title story grew out of an alternate history I started when I was in junior high, after reading MacKinlay Kantor’s 1961 short novel, If the South Had Won the Civil War. For those who might interested, the Confederacy survives for about a hundred years before collapsing in the Black Revolution. So far, the history goes from the 1860s to 2562. Three stories have emerged, including “The Great Forest,” which is set on a planet with sentient trees, settled around 2400. I tried a story set on this planet twice.  Eventually, I found who the story was about and what was at stake for them.

How long have I been writing? In one sense, most of my life. My mother, who was a secretary in the Department of Sociology at Duke University, would bring home used typing paper for us to draw on. My brothers and I scribbled, drew, wrote, played games. Eventually, I drew stories, creating maps and royal dynasties. But stories written on paper? I think they started in 4th grade, which is about sixty-odd years ago.

What do I do when a brilliant idea comes along at a bad time? Write it down, if possible, in quick notes, hopefully enough to remind me of just what the idea was. Unfortunately, if this happens at night when I have a particularly vivid dream, my notes are too often illegible.

What books are currently on my bedside table (a stool by the bedroom door). This stack changes from time to time. At the time I wrote this, the books were:

The Deviant’s War: The Homosexual vs. The United States, by Eric Cervini

Spider Woman’s Daughter,  by Ann Hillerman

Night Watch, by Jayne Ann Phillips

What am I working on now?  I am writing “In Love’s Light,” a short story for a forthcoming anthology of JMS Books authors,, Love is Free, forthcoming from JMS Books in January 2025.

Patience by Jaire Sims Review

On By authoranthonyavinablogIn reviewsLeave a comment

I received a free copy of this book in exchange for a fair and honest review. All opinions are my own. 

A young man must navigate his first relationship and a new job in author Jaire Sims LGBTQ adult romance novel, “Patience”.

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The Synopsis

After surviving a harrowing high school attack and making a life for himself, Carver Goodman is ready to move forward and find love. Using his photography skills, he uploads pictures of himself to a dating site and waits patiently for someone worth pursuing to contact him.

Ricardo Ramirez, Ricky to his friends, has a secret he’s kept from everyone, but when he sees a similarity between his past and Carver’s, he feels he must confess. After having dated Carver for months, he admits his transgression.

Will Carver be able to overcome Ricky’s sordid past, or will Carver’s past interfere with his future?

The Review

This was an emotional and compelling read. The exploration of Carver as a young adult and making his mark on the world was so fascinating to get lost in. The relatability of the character, from both a sexuality perspective and a personality perspective, will resonate with so many readers, and the thoughtful use of imagery brought the city of Chicago to life all around the characters in this narrative.

The emotional journey of Carver and Ricardo was truly the heart of the story. The physical and emotional connection they share as their journey evolves, and the shocking revelations of Ricardo’s past challenges Carver in ways he never expected. The romance gets very adult in its delivery, and the personal nature of Carve as a character, from his challenging past and his experiences on the Autism spectrum, to the first romance as a gay man and exploring what that means to him made this story so engaging.

The Verdict

Thoughtful, refreshing, and memorable, author Jaire Sims’s “Patience” is a must-read novel. The rich character dynamics and notes of growth and hope that the author evokes throughout this book will leave readers eager for more from this amazing writer. If you haven’t yet, be sure to grab your copy today!

Rating: 10/10

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About the Author

Jaire Malik Sims was born and raised on the far southwest side of Chicago. Even at a young age, Jaire was not known for his talkative behavior. He was able to make casual friends in elementary school and high school, but he never succeeded in making those friendships close or intimate.

Sims strived to get good grades and often made the Honor List in elementary school. He was a straight “A” student in high school and became class valedictorian.

Although Sims excelled at grades in high school, his difficulty with socializing began to manifest as a teenager. Due to his quiet nature and frequent experiences with social anxiety, Jaire was an easy target to teasing and bullying during his adolescence. His difficulties with socializing during his college years subsequently led him to see a clinical professional counselor and take a mental health assessment. While twenty-one, and a junior in college, Jaire was diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome. A year later, he graduated from Monmouth College with a Bachelor’s Degree in Communication Studies.

Jaire has restricted interests, which makes it difficult for him to have and maintain casual conversations with people. He developed an interest in all things Disney in high school and still enjoys talking about his favorite Disney films and songs.

Educators often told Sims that he had strong writing skills. This encouragement played a part in motivating him to write his first novel, Getting By. His debut novel was named a finalist in the African American (Fiction) category in the Next Generation Indie Book Awards.

Jaire hopes his book will reach certain demographics who share commonalities with him and perhaps inspire them to write their own stories while taking inspirations from their life experiences.

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Down the Line (Jake’s Bar #4) by AG Meiers Blog Tour + Guest Post

On By authoranthonyavinablogIn Blog Tours, Book Events, Guest PostLeave a comment

Title: Down The Line (Jake’s Bar #4) by AG Meiers

Guest Post 

The hardest character to write in a romantic suspense? Or the villain conundrum!!

In an era where ‘morally gray’ is celebrated, writing a believable antagonist is tricky. To be contemptuous they need to be bad—like really, really bad, but of course, they can’t just be evil for the sake of evil. They need motivation and complexity.

And, as the author, I struggled—I struggled with the challenge to find the balance of moral ambiguity and flawed humanity. Luckily, my romantic suspense, DOWN THE LINE, is not a battle of good versus evil. So, all my characters can be a hot mess, no heroes required…

DOWN THE LINE is about how to find love and happily-ever-after.

I looked at my two protagonists and had a good laugh, because my characters go about it the wrong way.

Two men meet. Hook up. Spend a weekend together and, yes, it changes the trajectory of their lives, but not for the better.

Dean Hunt – has trust issues! So, all his interactions become tit-for-tat. Love is a transaction. And you better negotiate from a position of strength, or you have nothing to offer…

Noel Conway – judges himself through his father’s eyes and always finds himself lacking. He doesn’t deserve love just for being Noel. So, let’s just go out there and work undercover for the FBI to bring down a dangerous criminal. Well, that should impress any love interest, right?

Dean and Noel get a second chance. The dangerous criminal (yes, my villain!!) from Noel’s past threatens his younger brother and Dean might just be the only one who can help.

Noel is trying to protect the ones he loves, and Dean is chasing front-page news—the line between enemies and lovers gets blurred…

Hey, wait, you might say, what does all that have to do with writing a “good” villain?

Well, in DOWN THE LINE the villain holds up a mirror and forces my heroes to take a good, long look at themselves. Where do they draw the line between ‘morally gray’ and ‘unacceptably evil’?

So, for me, writing a “good” villain is mostly about the characters the villain is coming after.

Down the Line - AG Meiers - Jake's Bar

AG Meiers has a new MM romantic suspense book out: Down the Line. And there’s a giveaway.

Revenge is a Dangerous Obsession.

Dean Hunt needs the story of a lifetime—Since his uncompromising attitude got him fired, the investigative journalist is hell-bent to expose the powerful and corrupt Conway family. It’s a career move, and absolutely not a vendetta against the oldest son Noel, who ghosted Dean after a mind-blowing weekend together.

Noel Conway needs a new start—After years away, Noel has come home to rebuild the bridges he’s burned. Too bad his past caused a ripple effect he can’t outrun. Now, he’s asked to save his family from the one man he never expected to see again but can’t forget.

Dean is chasing front-page news, and Noel is trying to protect the ones he loves. But the line between enemies and lovers gets blurred when a dangerous criminal from Noel’s past resurfaces. Will the truth shatter their tentative trust? Or do they have a shot at happily ever after?

But none of that matters when suddenly Noel disappears…

Down the Line, the final book in the award-winning Jake’s Bar series, is a spicy, M/M romantic suspense featuring a rainbow-colored bar full of quirky characters, and all the romance you can handle. So, download today, and get ready to fall in love with Jake’s Bar.

Warnings: smoking cigarettes and weed in the hot tub, kidnapping (on page scenes restrained), verbally abusive father

About the Series:

The award-winning Jake’s Bar series is a set of steamy, M/M romantic suspense novels, featuring a rainbow- colored bar full of quirky characters, and all the romance you can handle.

Universal Buy Link | Amazon

Giveaway

AG is giving away a $10 Amazon gift card with this tour:

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Excerpt

Jake's Bar banner

As Dean reached the top of the staircase, a man stepped out of the shadows in front of his door. Dean straightened his shoulders. “Detective Conway.”

“Hunt.”

In a parallel universe, they might have been friends. They were fighting the same fight. Had the same enemies. In this world, they weren’t brothers in arms. In this world, Dean had been cast as the villain.

“How can I help you this fine morning?”

“Open the door. We gotta talk.”

“Look, it’s been a long night—”

“Just open the damn door.” Conway snarled, pushing into Dean’s personal space.

Dean stood his ground. “Are you here in an official capacity? Because then, the answer is no, I won’t let you in. You have no warrant, no permission to search my property. I don’t consent—”

“Just shut the fuck up. None of us wants this shitshow to be on the record,” Con growled.

Dean, curious, took a step back and raised his empty hand, palm up. “Okay.”

He fished for his key, pushed open the door, and quickly disarmed his alarm system. Conway didn’t wait to be invited in, just crossed the living room, dropped his shearling coat onto the sofa, then walked over to the large window overlooking the river.

The view was the only redeeming feature of Dean’s otherwise-generic apartment. The mess didn’t help. There were dirty dishes piled up in the sink, a pizza box on the breakfast counter separating the cramped kitchen from the living room, and an unmade bed in the other corner of the room.

“For a guy who anxiously waited at my doorstep, you’re awfully quiet.” Dean smirked. “Coffee?”

“No.” Conway turned his back, now studying the row of framed newspaper front pages Dean had hung on the apartment’s interior wall. His personal collection of historic headlines—headlines that changed the world.

The oldest was from July 6, 1776. The Pennsylvania Evening Post, printing the Declaration of Independence on its front page. Next to it, the Daily Telegram, declaring the end of the Second World War. The two most recent, the New York Times’ “OBAMA: Racial barrier falls in heavy turnout” and, of course, the front page the day after 9/11.

Dean had added a few more personal favorites, like Moneta J. Sleet’s photography of Coretta Scott King at MLK’s funeral. The first Black man to win the Pulitzer for journalism.

Conway took his time examining each framed newspaper. Dean already regretted allowing the intrusion into his space. He felt exposed—vulnerable—under silent scrutiny.

Irritated, he started banging around the kitchen. He was in no mood to explain that looking at those headlines every day fueled his ambitions and inspired his dreams. Dean believed with every fiber of his being in the power of a free and independent press.

He turned on the coffee machine and leaned against the counter. As if Conway felt Dean’s angry glare across the room, he finally turned and stared right back. For a moment, they engaged in a silent standoff.

Unease flittered through Dean. Camille had been right. Her brother was seething with anger. And Dean had no fucking idea what he’d done to piss him off. He sighed and shook his head, then took two mugs out of the cabinet and put them onto the island. “Miguel, have a damn coffee. You look like you need it.”

“Says the man who clearly slept in his party clothes and crept home at sunup.”

“Guilty as charged.” Dean shrugged.

Conway curled his lip. “I do not know what my sister sees in you.”

It wasn’t a question, so Dean didn’t bother with an answer. “You wanted to talk? So, talk.”

Instead of talking, though, Conway pulled out a stack of papers. Pushing aside the coffee cups to make room, he spread them out over the counter.

Dean froze. The first blurry photograph featured Dean in another man’s arms. In the next, the same man was pressing Dean against a white porch railing, his own hands tangled in the man’s messy curls. Conway fanned the stack, revealing nearly a dozen more.

Dean and Noel Conway, kissing.

Suddenly, he was there again, the ocean breeze tugging on his clothes. Noel’s warm skin, tasting like sunshine and a hint of salt, his eyes blown with desire. Goddamn, so fucking beautiful, with that shy smile, whispered promises—

Dean’s throat was desert dry. His ragged breath and the hissing of the coffee machine came together like a fucking symphony. “I—”

“Save it. My sister thinks you’re this hotshot journalist. Full of passion. Braving adversity. Motivated by a noble cause. Yeah, fuck that. You’re after my family because Noel pounded your ass, then dropped you like he does everybody else. Your pride—your precious ego—is hurt because you’re just another notch in my brother’s carved-up bedpost.”

Conway grabbed his jacket and walked to the door. He turned and added, “Watch it, Hunt. You got no job. No friends. No prospects. But if you think you’ve reached rock bottom, think again.”

Dean contained himself until he heard his door close with a soft click. Only then did he allow himself to swipe papers, cups, and the fucking photos off his counter. The cups shattered

on the tile floor.

Author Bio

Eighteen years ago, AG Meiers came to the US for adventure and stayed for love. Currently, she lives in New England with her husband and two awesome kids—balancing work, friends and family, and writing.

When she has some free time, her favorite thing to do is travel and visit new places. Her past trips have already brought her to a variety of countries on four continents. She never passes up an opportunity to experience different cultures, diverse people and amazing locations.

Even though she has been dreaming up stories all her life, she has only recently started to write them down and share them with the world. As a writer she loves to put her characters through a lot of challenges, conflict and heartbreak, before she allows them to find their happy-ever-after.

Author Website: https://www.agmeiers.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/ag.meiers.1/

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/agmeiers/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/AG-Meiers/author/B07MCHQH5B

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The Long Journey to You by Vincent Traughber Meis Review

On By authoranthonyavinablogIn reviewsLeave a comment

I received a free copy of this book in exchange for a fair and honest review. All opinions are my own.

Matcha Green Tea by Purlisse

An older man is drawn into his past as he faces a new and exciting yet uncertain future in author Vincent Traughber Meis’s “The Long Journey to You”.

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The Synopsis

Nathan doesn’t know how to stop dwelling on the failures and tragedies that have plagued him since the last time we saw him at the end of The Mayor of Oak Street, a twenty-one-year-old happily in the arms of the handsome young doctor he had pined for since he was twelve. Many years later, what could mend Nathan’s heart after the latest tragedy and stop his deep dives into the past? After a chance meeting on the street with ER nurse, Mateo, a big chunk of Nathan’s reminiscing is now devoted to that encounter. Will he seize the day or continue wallowing in the past, having lunch with his BFF, and writing poetry?

He has traveled the globe and survived a disease that people once thought was a death sentence. There are moments with Mateo he is convinced that his whole life led him to this great love. At other times, he’s ready to kill him. Mateo, for his part, must take care of his ailing mother while he works full time in the emergency room. The practical aspects of starting a new relationship are challenging. Above all, this novel is a story of healing and finding true love.

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The Review

This was a fantastic and emotional read. The author does an excellent job crafting a complex and in-depth story of love and heartbreak in a time when sexual identity was still tough to contend with due to society’s opinions and judgments. Not only does the story showcase the struggle of living as a gay man openly, but themes of health scares during the AIDS epidemic and the uncertainty that life brings in the face of tragedy as well.

The character development allowed the story to shine brightly. The protagonist was so deep and fueled by emotions we all can identify with. The pain of loss and the fear of loneliness are genuine emotions that we all must contend with in life, and the enthralling story that stems from Nathan’s loss and search for hope kept the reader engaged every step of the narrative.

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The Verdict

Heartfelt, caring, and engaging author Vincent Traughber Meis’s “The Long Journey to You” is a must-read and thoughtful story of love, romance, and emotional depth. The pacing of the novel’s story allows the characters to grow and evolve in a way that makes them feel real and alive on the page. If you haven’t yet, be sure to grab your copy today!

Rating: 10/10

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About the Author

Vincent Traughber Meis grew up in Decatur, Illinois and graduated from Tulane University in New Orleans. He has also traveled extensively, and as result of his travels and time abroad he published a number of pieces, mostly travel articles, but also a few poems and book reviews, in publications such as, The Advocate, LA Weekly, In Style, and Our World in the 1980s and 90s. He has published five novels with Fallen Bros Press: Eddie’s Desert Rose (2011), Tio Jorge (2012), and Down in Cuba (2013), Deluge (2016) and Four Calling Burds (2019).

Tio Jorge received a Rainbow Award in the category of Bisexual Fiction in 2012.Down in Cuba received two Rainbow Awards in 2013. Deluge won a Rainbow Award in 2016. His sixth novel The Mayor of Oak Street was released in June 2021 with NineStar Press. A book of his short stories will be published by NineStar in September 2021. His stories have been published in several collections, including WITH: New Gay Fiction, and other collections. He lives in San Leandro, California.

http://www.vincentmeis.com

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Better Latte Than Never by CC Bridges Blog Tour + Guest Post

On By authoranthonyavinablogIn Blog Tours, Book Events, Guest PostLeave a comment

When I start writing a book, I always seem to know one character better than the other. That means I have to work a little harder at getting to know the second character. I find that as I write the story, I learn more about the characters, and then I usually have to go back and revise the beginning with what I’ve learned.

It was no different when writing “Better Latte Than Never.” When I started writing this book, I really got Finn. He is, after all, like me, a writer.

But there is more to Finn than that. 

Finn writes incredibly popular books under the pen name Morgan Heart. All of his novels are tragic love stories, where one half of the couple always dies at the end. Originally his first novel had a happy ending, but before he submitted it, he went back and changed it. Why? Because it’s not realistic.

Finn doesn’t believe in happy endings. 

In “Better Latte Than Never”, he confesses to Enzo why. His own parents had the greatest love story he’d ever seen, only for his mother to die young of cancer. His father never recovered from her loss, dying of a heart attack a few years later. This tragedy shaped Finn, made him the person he is today, writing his parents story over and over, although he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

Finn has a bubble around his own heart. He expects every relationship he has to fail. He keeps looking for the cracks, knowing an ending must come at some point. Because of this, he never lets himself relax, knowing something tragic is going to happen. He’s so focused on the ending, that sometimes he sees problems where there aren’t any.

When I started writing, I knew I had this poor shattered character, someone walking around with a broken heart but unwilling to do anything about it. Who could heal his heart? 

That’s where Enzo steps in. I knew he had to be completely different, that he had to shine a light on all of Finn’s shadows. But at first, I didn’t know who he was other than he worked in the coffee shop.

It became very clear that Enzo was an artist. And in contrast to Finn, he had absolutely no problems with his own creativity. In fact, his art is how Enzo sees the world. He frequently thinks of things in shades of paint.

Enzo doesn’t immediately heal Finn’s heart. No, first he heals his soul, opening Finn to a new world of creativity, bringing him back to the time before his writer’s block. 

But Enzo isn’t just Finn’s muse. In a now deleted line from my first draft, I have Enzo angrily tell Finn he’s “not his manic pixie dream boy.” Enzo has his own dreams and problems. He’s estranged from his parents. His best friend and roommate is moving out. He’s got to figure out if he wants a real 9 to 5 job or if he wants to keep trying to make it with his art. And that’s when Finn steps into his life and turns everything upside down.

I hope you check out “Better Latte Than Never” to see how these two manage to make it work, and the incredible art they make together.

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CC Bridges has a new MM contemporary romance out: Better Latte Than Never. And there’s a giveaway.

Finn’s love stories always end in death.

He’s made millions writing as author Morgan Heart and his fans can’t get enough of his tragic love stories. But a bad breakup results in a killer case of writer’s block, and Finn needs to try something drastic to fix it, like. . .going to a coffee shop to write. There’s got to be a reason it’s a cliche, and in his world, cliches sell.

He shouldn’t be flirting with the hot, younger barista. He shouldn’t be using said beautiful barista as another character to kill off in his new book. And he sure as hell shouldn’t be getting his heart involved, especially since he’s still keeping his real identity secret.

Working at his aunt’s coffee shop is a temporary thing. . . that’s been going on for eight years now. One day soon Enzo is finally going to make it big with his art and move on. But when Finn walks into the cafe – confident, mature, put together, everything Enzo is not – he can’t help developing a huge crush, even if Finn is a customer.

As their relationship deepens, Finn’s deceptions and Enzo’s insecurities threaten to undermine everything they are starting to build together. If they can each confront their inner demons, then Finn might be writing a happy ending for the first time in his life.

Better Latte Than Never is an m/m age gap, coffee shop romance featuring a slow burn attraction that grows steamier than an espresso machine.

Warnings: Mention of partner betrayal, death of character’s parents in the past

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Giveaway

CC is giving away a $10 Amazon gift card with this tour:

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Excerpt

Better Latte Than Never meme

Yeah, the cafe was so damn predictable. Except for this new guy.

Enzo downed his cake and tossed the plate into the trash. He should really square up with his aunt before she left for the day. Still. What if the guy left before Enzo could say anything? He’d make his rounds with the regulars after, but right now, Enzo couldn’t contain his curiosity about the stranger.

He threw on his apron and sauntered over to the corner where the stranger sat half-hidden behind a laptop. If this went wrong, Enzo could claim he’d come over to offer a refill. Not to, you know, see if the guy’s smoldering look when Enzo had walked in the door meant anything.

“Hey.” Enzo cleared his throat. “Thanks for coming to my birthday party.”

The guy looked up from his computer, those gorgeous eyes moving slowly upward in a way that made Enzo want to blush. His jaw was straight and covered with a smattering of stubble. Enzo wanted to rub his hands along it and enjoy the feel of the soft roughness against his fingertips…and in other places. There was an adorable sprinkle of freckles across his sloped nose. But his lips—perfect and pink and a bit too full for a man—were what made Enzo’s thoughts move straight into the gutter.

“It was my pleasure. Enzo, right? I’m Finn.” He held out his hand.

Enzo took it, squeezing tightly. Finn had a firm handshake, but his palm was soft and warm against Enzo’s. When he pulled away, Enzo curled his hand into a fist, wanting to savor that feeling.

“Finn? Is that a nickname?”

“It’s short for Finnegan.”

“Ah, a nice Italian name.” Enzo grinned and, happily, Finn laughed at his joke.

“What brings you to our cafe?” He winced at how terrible that sounded. Apparently Enzo completely forgot how to flirt when it was a customer he thought was hot. He could charm the old ladies like nobody’s business, but a cute guy? Nope.

Finn nodded at his laptop. “Came for the Wi-Fi and stayed for the coffee. And then the surprise party.”

He picked up his fork and stabbed the last piece of cake left on his plate. “This cake is amazing.”

“Everything my aunt bakes is amazing.” Enzo watched the bit of chocolate make its way to Finn’s mouth and the sensual way his lips closed around the metal of the fork. That shouldn’t be turning Enzo on right now, but God, if he didn’t want to follow that piece of cake with his own tongue against Finn’s lips.

“So what do you make that’s amazing?” Finn asked with a wink, and that was when Enzo knew they were in business, or at least on the same wavelength.

He could feel the blush creeping up his cheeks. “I don’t bake, but I do brew a mean cup of espresso.” “I’d love to have a taste.”

“You’ve got—” Enzo gestured to his own face. A smear of chocolate had found its way to Finn’s chin.

“Here.” He picked up a napkin from the table and brushed it away.

Finn took the napkin, his fingers tangling with Enzo’s for a moment. His eyes were smoldering. “Thank you.”

Author Bio

CC Bridges spent her childhood visiting other worlds in books, comics, and the starship Enterprise. It’s no surprise that she ended up a librarian, being surrounded by the books she loves so much. She writes about amazing worlds with honorable heroes. Her hobbies include paying money to get locked in a room for an hour so she can solve puzzles to escape, along with the aforementioned reading. She lives with her husband and son on the Jersey Shore. She is currently pursuing an MFA from Southern New Hampshire University

Author Website: https://www.ccbridges.net

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/ccbridgeswriter

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/ccbridges10

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ccbridgesauthor/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2780312.C_C_Bridges

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/cc-bridges/

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Blog Tour: Head over Feels by Bix Barrow + Excerpt

On By authoranthonyavinablogIn Blog Tours, Book EventsLeave a comment
Head Over Feels - Bix Barrow

Bix Barrow has a new MM contemporary romance out (gay, pan): Head Over Feels. And there’s a giveaway.

A luscious pet massage therapist, a gorgeous but grumpy ex-FBI agent, and glitter bombs gone deadly…

Malcolm:

I shouldn’t be jealous of my cat. I am, though. Her pet massage therapist (who knew that was even a thing?) is exactly my type. Smart, funny, and adorable with just the right amount of meat on his bones.

But a guy like that deserves more than a grouchy forty-something ex-FBI agent with a broken body and a screwed-up brain. I’m shocked when he offers a no-strings night together, though I don’t think twice before I’m all in.

I should’ve known better, because one night will never be enough. But before I can ask Felix for more, our awkward morning after turns explosive. And not in a good way

Now I just have to keep Felix alive long enough to catch the bomber. And to capture Felix’s heart.

Felix:

What would happen if everyone you’d ever dated got together and plotted against you?

For me, it’s glitter bombs. Lots and lots of glitter bombs.

Okay, maybe I deserved the first one or two. Or three. But I’ve learned from my mistakes and I’m a better person now. I definitely don’t deserve the latest bomb—this one isn’t made of glitter. Now I’m in hiding with Malcolm, the smokin’ hot older client I just had a sizzling one-night stand with.

Malcolm might be grumpy and prickly, but to me he’s also warm, caring, and romantic. My exes can’t hold a candle to him. But all that glitters is not gold. The bomber still wants me dead, and I’m pretty sure the police arrested the wrong guy.

If Malcolm and I want our HEA, we have to identify the real culprit. I just hope it all doesn’t blow up in our faces.

Head Over Feels is a low-angst MM contemporary romance. Come for the grumpy/sunshine, forced proximity (but there are two beds, sorry), hurt/comfort, and found family. Stay for the bombs (glitter and real), the 1985 Buick Riviera convertible, dreams coming true, atoning for past mistakes, game nights, a dead body, and an online date gone very, very, wrong. HEA guaranteed!

Warnings: PTSD symptoms, bomb explosion, off-page murder, recount of dog euthanasia

Amazon | QueeRomance Ink | Goodreads

Giveaway

Bix is giving away a $25 Amazon gift card with this tour:

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Excerpt

Head Over Feels meme

(from Felix’s POV)

I was still furious at Jaime’s holier-than-thou attitude about pet massage therapy. Where did he get off thinking he could judge me? At least I’d be helping animals and their owners. He built skyscrapers for rich jerks.

If I winced a little thinking my ex-dates would have a very similar opinion about me if they found out I’d held them up for the world to laugh at, well, that was no one’s business but my own.

Crap.

Anger and guilt were fighting in my gut as I clomped up the stairs and down the hall, turning the corner to reach my apartment. A small box sat in front of my door. Usually the apartment complex sent an email when I had a package delivered, but maybe one of my neighbors had picked it up by mistake.

I checked, and it was addressed to me. Someone is thinking about you was plastered across the outside of the box on colorful tape.

Could it be from my grandma? Sometimes she sent cookies. I’d been planning to spend the rest of the night on the couch with a bottle of cheap vodka, but cookies would be a welcome addition to help drown my feelings. The night was looking up at last.

After dumping my wallet and keys on the kitchen counter, I rooted around in my junk drawer for a pair of shears to open the package with. Inside the outer box was another box tied with curly multicolored ribbon. Thinking of you, said the sticker on the lid.

Smiling, I lifted out the smaller box and tugged on the ribbon.

The box burst open. I flinched back and yelled as a shower of glitter exploded all over the kitchen. And me.

“Ugh!” I spat into the sink to get the glitter out of my mouth. I tried to wipe my face on my sleeve, but my shirt was covered in it too. Luckily I hadn’t gotten any in my eyes, but it was crusted on my eyelids and in my beard.

I swiped at my head to get it out of my hair. The glitter rained down on the counter. Silver glitter. Gold glitter. Red, blue, green glitter.

It covered the counter and the kitchen floor. I didn’t have to look to know it had spread over the opposite side of the counter onto the living room carpet.

Freaking fantastic.

I brushed my hands together to get the worst of it off, then I studied the remains of the box. A spring had powered the little explosion. I found a notecard underneath the glitter and pulled it out. One side of the card showed a drawing of a tree and proclaimed, Our glitter is non-toxic and biodegradable! On the other side someone had handwritten, This is the least you deserve.

It wasn’t signed.

I flashed to my ex-dates. Surely not. I mean, what were the odds they would’ve seen Felicia in the City, much less recognized themselves.

Shaking my head, I set about washing the glitter off my hands, cleaning as much as I could from the counter and the floor, then running my ancient vacuum cleaner over the living room carpet.

I couldn’t think of anyone I’d aggravated recently. Except Jaime, of course. Not to mention his boyfriend. But the timing wasn’t right. I snorted to myself. If anyone deserved a glitter bomb, it was Jaime.

The kitchen was as clean as it was going to get, at least tonight. I went into the bathroom and stood in the tub to take my clothes off. Biodegradable meant it could go down the drain, right? Showering was a relief. The glitter had been starting to itch.

After putting on a t-shirt and pajama pants, I flopped down on the couch. I was exhausted but too wired to sleep yet. Groaning, I heaved myself up again and trudged to the kitchen. After pouring myself a generous vodka with a hint of tonic, I shuffled back to the couch and sank into the cushions.

With the kitchen light on, the carpet sparkled from embedded glitter. The vacuum hadn’t done much to get it out.

I slugged back about a third of my vodka tonic, then I picked up my phone to text Cal.

Me: My date was cheating on his boyfriend. And when I got home someone had sent me a glitter bomb.

Little dots appeared almost immediately, so I sipped my drink somewhat more sedately while I waited.

Cal: WTF, man? I hope u gave ur friend Cole shit about it. Do u know who sent the glitter bomb?

Me: I did and no, no idea. The note said “This is the least you deserve”

Cal: I hate to bring this up again, but how about those guys u dated who ended up on Felicia in the City?

Me: Marcie changed their names, and the show’s set in a different town

Cal: Well, I didn’t have anything to do last night, so I binged the first season. How many guys have model train tracks throughout their entire house and can’t sleep without it running? And how many guys show photos of their ex to their date and cry about him?

Well, fuck. Trent, the train guy, would definitely recognize himself. Or his friends would. And if you saw the episode with the guy crying over photos of his ex—who was very much alive, mind you—you might remember the appetizer in question was calamari. Something Marcie had kept consistent with my real date, since she liked how I’d described it as crying in the calamari. I hadn’t considered it might be a clue for Xavier to recognize himself on the show.

And none of the guys would have a hard time figuring out it was me who told their stories.

Me: Crap, you might be right

Cal: Well whichever of those guys did it, hopefully sending the glitter bomb got it out of their system

Me: I hope so

I rubbed my chest, frowning. Maybe letting Marcie pay me to use the stories from my dates hadn’t been the nicest thing I could’ve done.

Crap.

Author Bio

When Bix Barrow got an idea for her first book, it ended up turning into her second — and thus the first two stories in the Bent Oak, Texas series emerged. An aspiring author for most of her life, it took a foray into the MM romance genre to spark the steamy scenes and blazing banter Bix now weaves into her novels. Accompanying her on her writing exploits are her two dogs and multitude of cats (seven at last count). An avid traveler, Bix has started to view her expeditions as interviews for her future home. Born and raised in Texas, she is eager to move somewhere with fewer politicians, hurricanes and flooding. Connect with Bix at http://www.bixbarrow.com

Author Website: https://www.bixbarrow.com/

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/bixbarrow

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/bixbarrow

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/bixbarrow/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/21740152.Bix_Barrow

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Author Amazon: https://amazon.com/author/bixbarrow

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Book Excerpt

Head Over Feels

by Bix Barrow

Unique Excerpt

(Felix’s POV)

My alarm went off too early for my taste. The insistent buzzing broke me out of a deep sleep, and I woke confused about where I was for a moment. I’d been sleeping with my face pressed into a pillow, and I blinked as I sat up and glanced around. Malcolm wasn’t in the bed, and the sheets next to me were cold. 

The room was a little stark, but it could’ve been due to Malcolm not having lived in the house very long. The bed had a black metal headboard with two crossbars. The comforter was white with a black swirling pattern and a significant swath of dark brown cat hair. There was no rug on the hardwood floor, and a tall black chest of drawers was the only other piece of furniture in the room. I guessed Malcolm didn’t spend much time in here.

I picked up my phone and thumbed off the alarm. I had a couple of hours before I needed to be at the rescue ranch.

Malcolm appeared in the doorway, wearing some ancient-looking sweatpants and no shirt. His hair was damp. I spared a brief regret for missing an opportunity to suggest sharing the shower. 

“Hey,” he said. His face was almost expressionless. Fuck, was he going to be awkward again? I would’ve liked to take a moment to appreciate his furry chest, but not if he wasn’t into it, so I kept my eyes trained on his face. I was acutely conscious of my nakedness under the sheet, and not in a sexy way. 

“When do you need to leave?” Malcolm asked. “I can make breakfast.”

Breakfast? Would that be weird? But he was offering, and I didn’t want to make it weird if he wasn’t weirded out. I wished I could tell what he was thinking. 

“Um, sure. I don’t have a set appointment, but I need to go home and change before I drive out to… a ranch outside of town this morning sometime.” Jason had asked me to come over and look at an elderly alpaca they’d taken in. She had a limp, and Doc Pinkerton said it was a muscle strain.

Malcolm gave a sharp nod. “I should head to the office early as well. Feel free to use the shower. Come to the kitchen when you’re done.” He pivoted on his cane and then vanished down the hallway.

Well, okay. Were we supposed to pretend we hadn’t seen each other naked? I mean, I didn’t expect any boyfriend-y behavior like kissing me awake or bringing me coffee in bed. But after a night of hot sex, a guy likes to at least be ogled a little the next morning, you know?

My clothes had been folded neatly and placed on the chest of drawers. I showered as quickly as I could, then got dressed. Maybe it’d be better to skip breakfast and take off. 

But when I found Malcolm in the kitchen, he’d already plated our food. Eggs, bacon and toast. Coffee was already poured, milk and sugar displayed prominently to the side. 

“Come eat,” he ordered, shoving one of the chairs back for me. 

Well, I was hungry. Internally shrugging, I sat. “Thanks.” I’d eat as quickly as possible and then bolt.

Mariposa sauntered in. After winding herself around my ankles a couple of times, she jumped up into the chair to my left. I raised my eyebrows and glanced at Malcolm, but he ignored me. He forked up a bit of egg from his plate and held it out to Mariposa. She daintily accepted the offering, and Malcolm withdrew his fork and began eating again. 

“Um, you know cats lick themselves everywhere, don’t you?”

Malcolm shrugged and sipped his coffee. One eyebrow went up as if in challenge. “You know some men lick their lovers everywhere, don’t you?” 

He’d barely spoken to me all morning, and now he was making sex jokes? Screw that noise. I glared at him. “There’s no reason last night has to make things awkward, Malcolm.”

He sighed and looked down at his plate, then back up at me. “Yeah, I know. Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “It’s just… been a while for me. I’m out of practice or something.” 

“We’re good,” I reassured him. “It was only casual. Nobody’s expecting any commitments.”

He nodded, and we both focused on finishing our breakfasts. At least the tension in the air had eased a little.

After we’d eaten, Malcolm rinsed the plates and put them in the dishwasher before grabbing his car keys. “Let’s go out the side door here.”

“Sure.” I picked up my messenger bag from the living room, checked my phone was in my pocket, and followed him out to the carport.

We stepped out into the humid morning air. Mockingbirds called to each other, drowning out every other bird who might have wanted to greet the day. I wandered over to look Malcolm’s giant convertible while he shut the door and locked it. 

“Felix,” he said. I turned to look back at him. “I wanted to—” 

I caught sight of my sedan at the end of the driveway. “Fucking hell!” I shouted. “Are you kidding me!” I ran toward the car. 

Sitting on the roof, right over the driver’s door, was a small brown cardboard box.

Blog Tour: Everything’s Better with You by R.L. Merrill

On By authoranthonyavinablogIn Blog Tours, Book EventsLeave a comment
Everything's Better With You - R.L. Merrill

R.L. Merrill has a new TED LASSO-inspired MM sports romance out: Everything’s Better With You.

Everything’s Better With You is a TED LASSO-inspired sports-themed funny romance featuring two guys who’ve pined for each other for 15 years while their careers soared and their bodies fell apart.

Retired quarterback and “nicest guy in the NFL” Leslie Payton met former college cheerleader-turned-reality-show darling Joe Judd fifteen years ago. They spent one magical night…talking. They’ve been pining for each other via text and phone calls ever since while their careers kept them geographically apart. When their alma mater recruits them to reinvigorate a flagging athletic program, Leslie sees his opportunity to finally have Joe close enough to see if their “what if” can become a reality. And the sooner the better before Leslie’s history of Traumatic Brain Injury catches up to him and he’s unable to be a true partner.

Joe has spent their years apart dancing in every gig offered to him, knowing full well the clock is ticking on his body’s ability to continue taking the abuse. Leslie wants forever to start now, and Joe doesn’t have that luxury, though Leslie makes him want things he’s never allowed himself to dream of with anyone else. But a lifetime of only feeling worthwhile for his performance ability makes him doubt whether he could ever be a good coach or enough of a partner for the best man he’s ever known.

As football and cheer coaches, they’re forced to be rivals in public, but behind closed doors, their chemistry is unstoppable. A wager triggers their competitive sides, but the secrets they keep come to light and present them with a seemingly insurmountable obstacle. Can they finally meet on the relationship 50-yard line and move forward as a team?

Warnings: discussion of past domestic violence that happens off page, not graphic

Get it On Amazon | Universal Buy Link

Giveaway

R.L. is giving away a $25 Amazon gift card with this tour:

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Excerpt

Everything's Better With You meme - R.L. Merrill

Joe Judd pulled his cigarette-smoke infested rental minivan into a spot in front of the imposing brick building that represented an important slice of his formative years. His ties to the place ran deep; his liberal arts education, his adult education, his physical education, all happened in this very place, and the building before him was a symbol of the chapter in his life that paved the way for where he was now.

Where am I?

Right. Spring Fling weekend. Greenvale College. Go Jackets!

This was the first year he’d returned to his alma mater for this momentous occasion since graduating in 2005. Joe left Ayre Valley, Iowa in his rear view mirror fifteen years ago and his life had been all glitz and glamour ever since. Okay, the minivan he was currently sitting in wasn’t glamorous. He couldn’t even pretend to be an old Hollywood starlet whose leading man lit his cigarettes for him. He’d quit smoking a long time ago, and the way this car reeked, it was a damn good thing he had. Everything else in Joe’s life was glitz and glamour, though.

And pain.

Ugh, the pain.

He turned off the ignition of the Chrysler and listened for the clunk clunk of the engine shutting down. The airport car rental place had given him their last available vehicle and charged him a premium since he’d wrongly assumed Kansas City, Missouri wouldn’t be so packed that he couldn’t land a nice Mustang for the two-hour drive up to Ayre Valley. The woman working the register let him know in no uncertain terms that his thinking was wrong.

The engine clunked once more and a grinding sound emanated from the other side of the dash as if the thing had given up the ghost.

He could relate. His body felt like that when he stopped moving these days.

At 36 years old, Joe had the appearance of a fit man in his twenties. He liked to think he resembled his beloved Porsche at home in West Hollywood rather than this current hunk of junk. Gleaming chrome and a flashy paint job on the outside gave people the impression that he was all power and sleek lines, when in reality, his engine needed an overhaul under the hood, and his shocks and struts had seen better days. He pushed his Porsche to the same limits he pushed his body and both protested loudly. Just like the minivan.

“Time to move before you freeze up like this piece of shit.”

He gritted his teeth and opened the door, feeling his lower back protest. He had to get his feet planted under him just right and push himself to standing, putting the least amount of pressure on his knees. Once he was upright, he arched his back and felt the L5 bulging disc, the torn tendon in his hip, and the stubborn rib that would not stay in place no matter how hard his chiropractor back in Hollywood pounded on it.

He let out a harsh exhale as everything settled into place and then he swung the door closed. It was a chilly April morning and he was glad he’d brought his wool coat and worn his fleece-lined jeans. He was just about to head up the walkway when he heard the rumble of tailpipes and the screeching of…heavy metal?

A ginormous four-by-four truck complete with a rack of lights and a winch mounted on the front grill kicked up gravel as it pulled into the spot next to Joe’s rental. The windows were tinted but he had a feeling he knew exactly who the monstrosity belonged to.

“Well, if it isn’t fancy-pants, twinkle-toes, Dance Machine’s own Joe Judd! I’ll be damned.”

The six-foot-five, long and not-quite-as-lean these days, blond-mulleted, monster-truck madman currently lowering himself gingerly out of the gas-guzzling giant was none other than Leslie Payton. Three-time Super Bowl-winning—now retired—NFL quarterback, championship university football coach, and fellow alum of Greenvale College.

The tremors running through Joe’s body had nothing to do with the temperature. No, this was a reunion long in the making, and now that he was here, he struggled to keep his snarky demeanor front and center.

“You always did know how to make an entrance,” Joe said, shaking his head. He strolled toward the back of his car to greet Les, who already had his hand out, seemingly just as eager.

“And you’re a sight for sore eyes,” Les said, taking Joe’s hand and pulling him in for a back-pounding bro-hug that made Joe’s teeth smack together. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

Joe couldn’t either, honestly. He’d told himself he’d never come back here after graduation. The fact that he’d returned to the site of the best and most difficult years of his life was due entirely to the sheer amount of respect he held for Barry Payton—Leslie’s older brother and the new president of Greenvale College—and the complicated feelings he had for the man standing before him.

“I’m glad you could make it out. Barry was thrilled when you agreed to arrive early and meet with him.”

Joe raised an eyebrow. “I agreed to come for Spring Fling and the recognition of the cheer squad…am I missing something? Was there another part to the invitation?”

Les stepped back but didn’t let go of Joe’s hand, nor did he remove his other hand from Joe’s shoulder.

“I’ll let him explain it all to you. I’m just glad you’re here. Man, you look good.”

Joe did not miss the fact that Les’s gaze traveled hungrily over Joe’s body. Joe stood a little taller under the appraisal, glad he wasn’t the only one struggling with propriety.

“You just off a show?”

“Uh, yeah. Just finished choreography for the next season of Dance Machine and I’m headed from here to New York for a limited run of West Side Story.”

“When you’re a jet…doo doo doo doo doo,” Les sang, snapping his fingers. He laughed and pounded on Joe’s shoulder again, hard enough to make him stagger. “Oh, sorry, man. That’s great. I loved watching you on that live broadcast. You’ve still got those moves.”

Les’s smile held more wattage than all the lights in Levi Stadium, and Joe felt a blast of heat being the recipient of one of those smiles.

He had a flash of the first time he’d been the recipient of a Leslie Payton smile and how that night changed his life.

He watched my show. Joe fought to hide a triumphant smile.

Author Bio

R.L. Merrill

Whether she’s writing contemporary romance featuring quirky, queer, and relatable characters or diving deep into the supernatural to give readers a shiver, R.L. Merrill loves creating compelling stories that will stay with readers long after closing the book.

Ro writes inclusive romance for the Happily Ever After collective, contributes paranormal hilarity to Robyn Peterman’s Magic and Mayhem Universe, and pens horror-inspired tales and music reviews for HorrorAddicts.net.

A mom, wife, daughter, and former educator, you can find her rocking out in her Bronco with Great Dane pup Velma, being terrorized by feline twins Dracula and Frankenstein, or headbanging at a rock show near her home in the San Francisco Bay Area! Stay Tuned for more…

Author Website: https://www.rlmerrillauthor.com

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Balancing the Weave by M.W. Lee Blog Tour and Guest Post

On By authoranthonyavinablogIn Blog Tours, Book EventsLeave a comment

Explain the evolution of the book. 

I had been toying with an idea of creating a Southern Mythology, similar to William Blake’s mythology. I thought the idea for this novella would be a good chance to try it out. I first sat down and sculpted a short story of about ten pages. I asked a friend to give it a read. She returned it with a note: “This should be a novella.” I had never written a novella, and honestly, I wasn’t sure I had read many. 

I first investigated what a novella really is. Is it just a book that’s too long to be a short story and not long enough to be novel? No. Novellas encompass much more. But the one definite point is that there are no definite rules. There is clear definition of what one is. After reading a few articles I came up with a few guidelines that I felt would work for me:

  1. Length
  2. Novellas are about one thing
  3. No subplots

There was another about rule that I abandoned later as I only saw it once, and it wasn’t working well for me. Novellas, sometimes, use symbols to move the plot forward. (I think that was it.) I love symbols, so this would fit me. I simply found it too contrived to use extensively in this novella.

I decided that my novella would focus on the theme of “neediness”. How we can all be needy at times; how supporting one’s needs makes one not needy. 

The first completed drafts that I felt ready for publication could be divided into two parts: what the Fates were doing, and what Mark didn’t know. The narrator (unnamed at this point) would divert the story and explain what went on in Sammy’s life while Mark was being neglectful. Sammy and his neighbor, Jon, were seducing each other. Spending time, listening to each other, doing things together. 

I knew if a novella wasn’t to have a subplot, the diversions needed to focus on neediness. These scenes about Sammy involved two neighbors, Jon, the new love interest, and Ms. Ledford, an elderly woman who lived above Sammy. These scenes were constructed to explain how we can be supportive of each other’s needs without compromising ourselves. There is a lot that I love about those sections. However, after hiring a second editor to help me, I decided that these sections didn’t enhance the experience for the reader. I cut them and read it and saw that the novella was much more focused on the themes.

Yes, themes. By this time, I realized I needed to include another theme: self-reflection. This would be a minor theme but was a must. Mark couldn’t undergo any change without self-reflection. This also helped me get into the Fates more.

What of those Fates? They also went through a small transformation. Each of the Fates represents a time: Parcae, the past, Clotho, the future, and Moirae the present. They have another sister Clymene, who is the Goddess of Spirituality and became important to support the theme of self-reflection. Initially, they were a jumbled mess. I had to sit down and create the rules. Things like, when Parcae arrives in the present, she doesn’t know anything about the modern world; Moirae can’t remember things that happened in the past; and Clotho can jump around in all possible futures. This was important as I felt that freewill would be a part of a Southern mythology due to Christianity’s hold on the South. Therefore, Clotho would have to be able to see all possibilities of what would happen when we make a choice. Initially in the novella, the Fates made those choices by weaving the future in the tapestry which represented the person. Freewill needed to be stronger, so I had to change Clotho a little. She can’t remember details of the future, but knows which choices would be best to present to someone for them to choose. 

All of this took place over about ten years. I’d work on it a while, set it aside, and then come back to it when the Muse instructed. 

Balancing the Weave - M.W. Lee

M.W. Lee has a new MM fantasy romance out: Balancing the Weave.

For Mark, Pride weekend in Yamasee County, South Carolina, means spending the day with friends, flirting with the out-of-town men, finding a romance, drinking too much, and enjoying all of Pride. However, the Fates have arrived to address a hole which appeared in the tapestry representing Mark, his past, and his present, which will direct him to the future.

Throughout the day, the Fates confront Mark with memories both pleasant and painful about his former lover Sammy. Parcae uses her goddess tools to manipulate Mark’s thoughts so he remembers fun dates, fights, issues which make him uncomfortable, and accusations of being needy. Was it Sammy’s neediness that caused Mark to end the relationship? Or was Mark the needy companion? When Sammy once said Mark ain’t needy, what did he mean?

Can the goddesses help Mark work through these memories so his self-evaluation can lead to better relationships in the future?

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Giveaway

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Excerpt

Balancing the Weave meme - M.W. Lee

Parcae stood to stretch her legs while allowing Mark time to reflect about what he just remembered while she strategized her next affront.

Mark refused to consider the significance of the memory, choosing instead to attempt to hide in sleep.

Parcae considered. It seems to me that if left alone, his memory inclines toward dishonesty. In lying to himself, he can’t or won’t learn. He needs to ask himself who he was in the relationship, but most importantly, who he was to Sammy. He needs to face this honestly.

She nosed about the room, acting like a nosy mother-in-law eavesdropping on the private conversation in the adjacent the next room.

“I wonder,” she spoke out loud to Mark, “why did Sammy date you?”

Mark though for a moment before replying, I liked his sense of humor.

Parcae sighed. “That’s you, not him.”

I’m good-looking.

“You going to include dick size too, shallow man?” Parcae snapped. “I asked why he—” she stressed the he “—dated you.”

I don’t know why he dated me. We never talked about it, Mark thought, matching her snappy tone.

“Yes, you did. Remember, after you’d been dating for a couple of months, he told you.”

Mark searched for the memory without finding it, so he remained still, his mind becoming blank.

Parcae ambled about the room, swishing her crinolines, which sounded like children playing in piles of dead autumn leaves. The sound cleared the air around Mark, and he felt the pinch of crisp autumn evenings, smelled the scents of autumn, burning leaves, warm cider, and funnel cakes. Mark’s memory opened and brought him back to the first Friday in October, when he and Sammy decided on an impromptu date to ride rides, play bad carnival games, and eat junk food at the Big Seven County Fair.

A smile came across Mark’s face, which Parcae noticed and approved. Instead of allowing him to rely on his own memory to show his past, she created a vivid memory so that she could observe how the memory touched him.

“Exactly,” Parcae said. “A good memory. Good memories bring clarity to past relationships.”

Mark thought, How do they do that?

“Comparison,” Parcae said. “Who you were then compared to who you were when you broke up.”

As her crinolines swished, Mark’s memory cleared. Instead of a scene being replayed as a motion picture, the memory flashed a series of slides so that Mark experienced a photo album of their date at the fair. The view was that of the gods.

Mark observed –

Mark and Sammy laughing as Mark pressed against him on the scrambler. Sammy’s wide mouth created a half joking yet half fearful expression.

Mark commented, When the ride stopped, Sammy showed me that the mechanism hadn’t closed properly.

The next slide: Mark exaggerated a baseball pitch as he attempted the Milk Bottle Toss. Sammy stood with his hands in prayer position against his mouth with an exaggerated hopeful expression.

Mark thought, I could just be silly with him, and he’d join in.

The next slide: Both of them standing in line for the Spook House. Mark noticed his arm resting on Sammy’s shoulder, as if he were leaning on Sammy.

Mark observed, I was being affectionate but unsure because of the location. Sammy never seemed bothered.

The next slide: Mark saw them sitting at a small picnic table under a canopy at the Penniless Pig, sharing a large plate of loaded fries. The slide transformed to a motion picture.

“What were you doing on the swings?” Mark asked.

“Being silly,” Sammy laughed as he devoured some fries. “In Germany, riders get the swings to spin around, and they reach for each other, and push each other back and forth. It gets harder as the ride gets faster. I was trying to do that.”

“Is that allowed?” Mark asked.

“Don’t know,” Sammy said. “since all we do is sit, either it isn’t allowed or no one’s thought of it. But … um …” Sammy paused.

Mark noticed Sammy glancing away, smiling, embarrassed, in that special kind of embarrassment when the lover admits he likes the beloved. On the sofa, Mark recognized his heart’s increase of excitement.

“Well,” Sammy continued, “Sometimes a couple would reach out and grab hands and pull each other closer. I was attempting to be romantic.”

“Did you want to hold hands?” Mark asked affectionately, without a hint of mockery.

Author Bio

M.W. Lee

M.W. Lee studied English at Limestone University in South Carolina, and DePaul University in Illinois. He has led many lives, as an adjunct professor, data entry clerk, ESA teacher in Saudi Arabia. Currently, he has a new day career as an HIV case manager with the Hawaii Health and Harm Reduction Center. His personal essay, “The Sea and Debussy” appeared in the on-line journal The Scarlet Leaf Review in October 2021.

Lee works during the day and writes at night. “Balancing the Weave” is his first published novella. He enjoys reading a wide range of fiction; however, space operas, dystopian, and post-apocalyptic fiction are his favorites. He is currently writing a crime novel.

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