Tag: Other Worlds Ink

Free Me by Beck Grey Blog Tour + Excerpt

On By authoranthonyavinablogIn reviewsLeave a comment
Free Me - Beck Grey

Beck Grey has a new queer romance book out (gender-fluid, gay, trans), Love in the Pacific Northwest book 4: Free Me. And there’s a giveaway.

A gender-fluid cutie, a workaholic hottie, and a hookup gone right.

Blake

No romantic relationship could ever compete with my dream job. Sure, it gets lonely, but that’s what occasional hookups are for. Work-life balance? Who cares? I certainly don’t. Until chest pains bring me to my knees and land me in the emergency room.

It’s a wake-up call I can’t afford to ignore.

When my well-meaning family encourages me to make some major life changes, like hiring a meditation and physiotherapist, whatever that is, I’m worried enough to agree.

Imagine my surprise when my practitioner turns out to be the hookup I haven’t been able to forget.

Stef

What’s a fabulously vivacious gender-fluid beauty to do when stress is high and Prince Charmings aren’t lined up at their door? Head to the club to recharge my sparkle on the dance floor. I have no intention of hooking up with anyone. Hookups are not my thing.

Usually.

Then I see the slightly older hottie in the Tom Ford suit, and all my self-restraint goes up in a blast of glitter.

When it turns out he’s my new meditation client and my friend’s older brother, I’m sure the universe is messing with me.

Because mixing business with pleasure is a huge no-no.

So why does my heart keep shouting yes?

Free Me is a low-angst, opposites attract, worlds collide, contemporary LGBTQ romance about a hookup gone right. It contains no cheating, and a guaranteed HEA.

Warnings: Transphobia by a member of the LGBTQ community on a member of the community

About the Series:

Turns out, perfection isn’t a prerequisite for happiness.

Whether it’s risking your heart on a hookup, falling for your brother’s best friend, taking that second chance when it arrives, or pursuing a relationship that doesn’t look like everyone else’s — life is complex, but love doesn’t have to be.

Snarky, sweet and spicy, Love in the Pacific Northwest is a first person POV, low-medium angst, open door, contemporary LGBTQ romance series of interconnected standalones. No cheating and a guaranteed HEA every time!

Get It On Amazon

Giveaway

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

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Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47281/?

Excerpt

Free Me meme

I walk out to the bedroom balcony and look down at the patio. Blake is lounging by the pool in swim trunks and sunglasses, reading a book. He looks incredibly relaxed, and it makes my heart happy. “Hey, handsome.” He glances up and his face breaks into a wide grin. Okay, yes, we’ve been together for a few months, but his smile still makes my insides all melty and warm. “You want to come in and eat, or should I bring the food out?”

“Put on a suit and come down. This is my big plan for the day.” He gestures to the pool area and waves his book.

I lean my elbows on the railing and grin down at him. “If you’re trying to seduce me, it’s working.”

“Excellent. Step one in my evil plan is complete. Now come down here. I missed you.”

“Be down in a sec!” I hurry inside, strip out of my work clothes, then lather myself in the sunscreen that smells like coconut. Blake loves the scent, and I love how he nuzzles my neck when I use it. I pull on my tiniest black and white print swim briefs, grab a beach towel from the closet and the food bags from the kitchen counter, and hurry down to the game room and out to the patio. “Should we eat at the table or on the loungers like heathens?”

Blake glances up from his book and his eyes lock on my tiny swimsuit. I do a slow spin, giving him a good view of my ass. “Like?”

He pulls his sunglasses to the end of his nose and peers over them. “That’s new.” His voice is thick with lust. Oh, yeah. Mission accomplished.

“It is! And it’s so adorable!”

Blake licks his lips. “And so tiny.”

“I had a feeling you might like it.” I skip past him to the table and deposit the bags.

Blake practically growls and grabs my hips the moment I put the bags down. “Come here.”

I laugh as he manhandles me, hauling me close and inhaling my skin. He drags his nose across my abdomen and my cock stirs, eager to join in the fun, but my stomach growls with hunger. “Mmm. I’m fully on board with whatever you’re planning here, Darling, but we should eat before the food gets cold.”

Blake bites my hip. “We can heat it up.”

My laugh quickly turns to a gasp as his tongue teases above the edge of my suit. It’s all I can do not to press his head a few inches lower. “Blake, Darling, I have souvlaki and Greek salad.”

He hums and sits back, waggling his eyebrows at me. “You know I love Greek.”

I snort at his double entendre. “As do I, my darling. So let’s eat.” I wink at him. “Then we can eat.”

His chuckle warms every part of me. He pushes to his feet with a sigh. “If we must, we must.”

“We must.” I press up on my tiptoes and pucker up.

He obliges me, but turns my expected quick press of lips into a lingering kiss that curls my toes and has me second-guessing my stance on eating first. As I’m about to give in, he lets me go and pats my backside. “C’mon. Let’s feed you so we can move on to other enjoyable things.”

Author Bio

Beck Grey logo

Beck is a non-binary writer of sweet, sexy, LGBTQ happily ever afters. Why? Because everyone deserves all the happy! They live in the Northeastern United States with their two adorable dogs.

Weekdays are spent working their day job, but nights and weekends are devoted to writing stories involving hot characters, favorite tropes, and happy endings. Any additional time includes reading, laughing with friends, drinking red wine, and playing D&D. If there’s cake involved at any point it’s a win!

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

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/beck.grey014/

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/beck.grey014/

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

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/21696745.Beck_Grey

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/40899/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Beck-Grey/author/B09CZ69MTS

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Here is an Excerpt from Author Beck Grey’s “Free Me”

The pout gets more pronounced as I get closer. They’re obviously resigned to the fact that I’m here, and now taking full advantage. “I’m sick. I feel like poo and my nose is stuffy and won’t stop running, and you’d think that’s not possible, but I’m here to tell you it is.” I hold open my arms, food bags dangling from my fingers, and Stef walks into my embrace, tucking their face into my neck and sniffing. “I can’t even smell you, and that’s so sad. I love the way you smell.”

I kiss the top of their head and carefully close my arms around them. “Well, I brought food and some over-the-counter medicine for your cold. Hopefully, those will do the trick and you’ll be back to smelling me in no time.” 

If they can hear the smile in my voice, they ignore it. “I’m miserable. And hungry. I don’t have the energy to be hangry.”

“Well, let’s go upstairs and I’ll take care of you.”

Stef leans back and looks up at me. “You will?”

“Absolutely. I can’t have you at death’s door.”

They nod. “I am, too. It’s awful.” They turn around and head for their apartment, which saves me the effort of hiding my grin. How can one person be so damned cute?

“So, how long have you been sick?” It’s been a few days since we’ve seen each other, but we’ve been texting and calling, and Stef hadn’t mentioned feeling under the weather.

They sigh dramatically as they fling their apartment door open. “Ages. Two days, I think.” 

Looking around the apartment, I believe them. There are mugs and pots in the sink where it looks like they’ve made soup but not cleaned up. I set the bags of food on the counter and follow Stef into their room. There are tissues all over the floor and more empty mugs and bowls on the side table. Their laptop is in the middle of the bed, a movie paused mid-stream, and a half-eaten bag of lozenges open next to the pillows. Stef flops onto the bed, almost bouncing the laptop onto the floor. I can see I have my work cut out for me. 

I take off my suit jacket and tie and carefully drape them over the sofa. It seems Stef hasn’t made it to this half of the room yet, so they should be safe. I roll up my sleeves and Stef groans. “No! No fair!” They wave at me. “Sleeve rolling!” They flop dramatically back on the pillows. “No being sexy while I’m sick. It’s so unfair.”

I look down at my forearms and laugh. “Excuse me?”

“Sexy forearms!” They sigh again. “Blake, how do you not know about the forearm thing?”

I shrug. “No idea how I missed that. I’m sorry.”

Stef waves a hand in my direction. “Fine. You’re forgiven.” 

They’re bundled in a lump on the bed, complete with fuzzy unicorn slippers poking out at the bottom of the duvet, so I move the laptop to the other side and carefully unwrap them. “How about we eat something and then I’ll run a bath for you?”

The moan Stef makes would be lascivious if they weren’t actually sick. “Blake, you are a god among men.”

“Do you want to eat in the kitchen?”

In lieu of an answer, Stef groans and sits up. I reach to help them, but they stand and lean into me, head on my shoulder. “Thank you. For bringing me food, and medicine, and please don’t look at me too closely.”

I hold them tightly and kiss their forehead, which feels a little warm against my lips. “You’re still gorgeous, just in a real-person kind of way. You’ll always be beautiful to me.”

Stef settles against me. “Really?” 

I nod. “Of course. Stef, you are gorgeous on the outside, but you’re also beautiful on the inside, and in my opinion, that matters more.”

They sniff. “How come I’m only beautiful on the inside?”

“I’m sorry?” 

“There’s a scale. And you said I was gorgeous on the outside and beautiful on the inside.”

They sound like they’re pouting and I bite my lip so I don’t laugh. “Well, I didn’t know there was a scale. If you’ll tell me, I can rephrase using the proper terminology.”

There’s a pause, like they’re thinking it over and then they shrug. “All right. It goes nice, pretty, beautiful, gorgeous, stunning.” 

“Mmm. I see. Well, You’re stunning inside and out.” 

“Pfft. You’re just saying that because I’m sick. I look like heck.” 

Hawthorne Manor by Bryan T. Clark: Interview and Blog Tour

On By authoranthonyavinablogIn Blog Tours, Book Events, InterviewsLeave a comment

Hawthorne Manor by Bryan T. Clark

  1. How long did it take you to write Hawthorne Manor?

I started writing Hawthorne Manor in 2020. During the pandemic I’d lost all of my creativity and all but stopped writing. I hadn’t finished the first draft at that point, and the characters completely shut down on me. I would go into my office and just sit there, waiting for one of them to speak to me. It was horrible. As we moved through the pandemic, my creativity slowly began to return. I think I’m back to pre-pandemic creativity now.

  1. Is it true that you’re a plotter?

In the beginning of a story, yes. I start with an idea, then I plot out the beginning, the middle, and the end. Everything in between these three points is created as the character’s relay it to me. They speak, and I type. It all has to come organically at this point. It’s the only way I’ll ever tell a story.

  1. What advice would you give a new unpublished author?

Writing a book is hard work and requires a commitment to the task. You will have many roadblocks, and you may think that it’s an impossible task . . . but it’s not. For many people they say that they just don’t know where to start. I say just write your idea even if you don’t have the entire story plotted. Every one of my books go through at least two major rewrites. With each draft more of the story is flushed out. In the end, you will have that story you set out to write.

  1. In your previous life, before you were an author, you were in law enforcement. Do the two careers share anything in common?

Not at all. For twenty-eight years, I was a private person, personally closed off to all who I was in contact with during the course of a day. Then, my life was about facts and conclusions. Now, as a writer, I am infusing bits and pieces of myself in my writing and sharing personal things that have influenced who I am today. I’ve mellowed. Life isn’t so serious anymore.

  1. What are you working on now?

Only what so many of you have been asking for over the past five years: a sequel to Come to the Oaks. The first book saw the characters come alive, and the sequel is just as exciting. The sequel is not simply a continuation of the first book but a new journey for Ben and Tobias, with all the sass, suspense, and satisfaction of Come to the Oaks.

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Hawthorne Manor - Bryan T. Clark

Bryan T. Clark has a new MM contemporary romance out: Hawthorne Manor.

Mikael Ferreira seems to have it all—a great career, looks, intelligence, and charm to boot. But his work as a full-time caregiver at Hawthorne Manor barely leaves him time to breathe, let alone date. Then a new employee arrives at the manor and makes Mikael question whether he’s been living at all or merely existing…

Elliot Olsson is Mikael’s polar opposite. Elliot’s autism has always made him feel isolated. Until now. Mikael truly sees him in a way no one ever has. Elliot wants to open his heart to Mikael and connect with him on a deeper level. But wanting won’t make it any easier to overcome the obstacles Elliot knows they’ll face as a couple…

As Mikael and Elliot’s story is beginning, eighty-eight-year-old Walter Hawthorne’s is coming to an end. But while his health is fading, his mind is sharp as ever—and he has a thing or two to share about life, intimacy, and love with the two young men who seem to know nothing about any of it…

Hawthorne Manor, a contemporary LGBTQ+ romantic novel, is an exploration of the foibles of aging, friendship, love, and the beauty that can exist in a found family. It features a house full of eccentric characters, witty banter, and a deeply emotional M/M romance. HEA guaranteed. Download today, and welcome to Hawthorne Manor.

Universal Buy Link

Excerpt

Hawthorne Manor meme - Bryan T. Clark

“Are you okay?” Mikael felt bad that he was the cause of Elliot’s stress. The two stood in silence for what seemed like minutes—very long minutes.

“Yeah… Just never been kissed before.” Elliot’s gaze dropped to the floor for a second.

Never been kissed? Mikael was at a loss on how to respond to such a profound statement.

“I liked it.” Elliot’s cheeks turned pink.

“You did?” A sea of blue in Elliot’s eyes, his rose lips, the pink in his pale cheeks… Mikael wanted to kiss all of him. He wanted to lift the sorrow from Elliot’s eyes, remove it from his lips, and wash it from his cheeks. He fought the urge to kiss him again. His heart pinged harder. He wanted to kiss him a million times to make up for all the kisses he’d missed. He touched Elliot’s cheek with the back of his hand, envisioning that he was wiping the sadness from it. Elliot trembled at his touch.

Elliot’s stare was piercing. His brows danced as a tiny smile slowly emerged, softening his expression.

“Do you know that you do this darling little thing with your brows? It’s barely noticeable how one goes up and the left one dips. It’s adorable.”

“I do?”

“When did you become so freakin’ hot?” Mikael’s voice dropped to a whisper.

Elliot wrinkled his nose. “I don’t think I’m hot.”

Mikael took Elliot’s denial as modesty. It was hard to believe he could be so attractive and not be aware of his good looks. “Yeah, and you know what? That makes you even hotter.” Mikael lifted Elliot’s chin. “I can’t believe you don’t know how nice-looking you are?”

Elliot shook his head, pulling loose from Mikael’s grasp. “No—”

“Yes.” Mikael raised Elliot’s chin. “You are.”

“I always thought you had a nice smile….” Elliot’s voice quaked. “Especially when you’re looking at me.”

You’re sooo freakin’ adorable. Mikael couldn’t avoid the big smile that accompanied his laugh.

“And you have pretty teeth,” Elliot mumbled.

“I think that’s a first. Someone complimenting me on my teeth. Usually, it’s my fat ass. But I’ll take teeth, too.”

“Your butt is nice too, but your teeth….” Elliot’s gaze drifted up to meet Mikael’s stare. “They’re really white.”

“Are you flirting with me, Mr. Olsson?” Mikael grinned as if he was in a toothpaste commercial, ensuring his white teeth were front and center. “I certainly hope so because I like you… I like you a lot.”

“I don’t know how to flirt. But your teeth are really white.” Elliot raked his fingers through his hair, then tucked it behind his ear. The protruding vein on his forehead subsided a little.

So, he does like me! Mikael’s heart thumped as he took a step closer to Elliot… and kissed him. Again.

It was only a soft kiss, but it was on lips he’d been dreaming of… and it was glorious!

He pulled back, assessing the situation. Seeing Elliot moisten his lips with his tongue, he did the same, wanting to savor every bit of the kiss. The dude that had never been kissed had the ability to set off fireworks within him.

Author Bio

Author Bryan T. Clark

Bryan T. Clark is a multi-published award-winning author of gay romance, and contemporary books. In his early in life, Bryan learned that he was different from everyone else in his world. As a young African American boy, he was the second to the youngest of seven children. Long before hormones kicked in and the realization of same sex attraction, it was his light skin and blond hair that made him different from those around him. Teased within his own race for being lighter than everyone else, the kids on the playground called him “Cornbread”.

As a writer, Bryan has taken back the power once given up to those schoolyard bullies. He is committed to bringing his readers stories of real life, with multicultural characters, riveting plots, and where the underdog always wins. He is the founder of Cornbread Publishing: the name empowers him and is a constant reminder that life can have a Happily-Ever-After.

Born in Boston, Massachusetts, Bryan and his husband of thirty-six years has made their home and life in the Central Valley of California.

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

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

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/romanceauthor/Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Bryan-T-Clark/author/B0BQ5JQ24P

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The Lucky Starman (A Leif the Lucky Novel) by Colin Alexander Blog Tour (Q&A Bonus)

On By authoranthonyavinablogIn Blog Tours, Book EventsLeave a comment

Q. Who did your cover and what was the design process like?

Alejandro Colucci did the cover for The Lucky Starman.  This is the third of my books that he has created the cover art for—three in a row—and they have all been phenomenal.  On the previous one, I actually received a comment asking if it was available as a poster and I have never had anything close to that happen before.  For The Lucky Starman, we wanted to maintain the motif of the space-suited hand from the first two books.  We also wanted to include something unique to this book.  Based on some of the themes in the story, Alejandro designed the cover you see, which evokes the old line from Shakespeare, “Alas, poor Yorick . . .”  I think the cognitive dissonance between the title and the image is perfect.  When you read the book, I hope you’ll agree.

Q. What was the hardest part of writing this book?

The Lucky Starman is the third book in a series that stretches across close to two centuries of Earth time, two different stages of “near future” Earth technology followed by a postapocalyptic setting, and two starflights with the attendant effects of relativity.  In addition, the three books form a continuous story, the events of one follow immediately after the conclusion of the preceding book.

In this situation, I found the most difficult aspect of writing the third book was maintaining consistency with the first two and keeping the timeline feasible across all three.  For example, people in Leif’s twenty-first century usually have an implanted chip that interfaces with their phone and with other networks.  Since this is obviously made-up technology (although perhaps not that far off!), I had to make sure that I kept the capabilities of the technology consistent across books.  In the first book, there is a scene, after Leif receives a new, upgraded chip on his return from the first starflight, where he angrily deletes a lot of annoying apps that came with it.  In The Lucky Starman, he needs to have certain apps available, so I had to be sure there was a reason he still had them.  Similarly, the books include multiple events with dates in a period from 2055 (when Leif enlists) to 2252 (the conclusion of The Lucky Starman.)  Not only do the dates need to match across books, but the time between the events needs to work.  At one point in the drafts, when I looked at the story prior to a starflight and then events occurring after the flight, I realized that it was implying the ship had gone faster than light.  Needless to say, adjustments to the draft were needed.

The near-constant back and forth checking on these proved to be the hardest part of the writing.

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The Lucky Starman - Colin Alexander

Colin Alexander has a new post-apocalyptic sci-fi book out, Leif the Lucky book 3: The Lucky Starman.

Is Leif really lucky? Stranded in orbit, viewing a destroyed civilization on Earth through the screens of a starship almost out of fuel and food, he doesn’t feel that way.

It wasn’t supposed to be like that.

As the starship Dauntless returns from a successful mission to the planet called Heaven, Earth holds no attractions for Exoplanetary Scout Leif Grettison. He wants only to complete the mission and leave for another star, along with ace pilot Yang Yong. In fact, he would be happy spending the rest of his life flying the starways with her.

But they and the rest of the ship’s skeleton crew awaken from hibernation to find Earth’s solar system dark and silent—no signals, no responses to their transmissions. When they make orbit, the magnitude of the disaster becomes clear: An apocalyptic war has killed billions and destroyed every last source of power and tech that 22nd-Century humans relied on to survive.

Getting down to Earth is only the beginning of Leif’s problems. Those few who survived the apocalypse are still divided, fighting over what’s left. The disastrous re-entry to Earth leaves him with no resources or allies. He lands in the middle of a makeshift family that needs him more than he’s comfortable with and hears stories—even nursery rhymes—that speak of a lucky starman. For once, he’s the only person with tech—but if he’s caught using it, they might kill him.

Can a man back from the stars end the warfare on Earth, or will he make it worse? Can he save a family that might become his? Is he everyone’s lucky starman?

Warnings: Combat situations (one-on-one and armies), named characters die

About the Series:

These are the adventures of Leif, who some have called the Lucky. They begin in the year 2069, when humanity’s last chance for peace is the first ever interstellar mission. However, when you believe you have thought of everything, the universe has a way of showing that you haven’t.

What do you do when it goes wrong, when you can’t call for help, and when adventure leads to deaths? If you survive one journey, what do you do next?

Get It On Amazon | Goodreads

Excerpt

The Lucky Starman - Colin Alexander

“Leif, we have a problem.”

I heard Charley’s voice as if from a great distance. The post-hib blur was a dense fog in my mind. I recognized the words but could not grasp their meaning. In my defense, I hadn’t even sat up in the hibernation unit yet; its bath was still draining.

I wrenched off the mask and cannula and removed the port from my arm. Then I sat up with a profound groan. Nearly four and a half years’ hibernating did more than blur the brain. Every muscle was stiff. I was surprised my joints didn’t squeak. Multiyear hib did not get better with repetition. I blinked and tried to bring Charley’s face into focus. Dr. Charles Osborne, I told myself. Our ship’s physician. He was supposed to be with me when I came out of hib. He had dark brown skin on a kindly round face, short black hair, and a closely cropped beard.

“Leif, we have a problem,” he repeated. “Yang needs you on the bridge.”

Why did there always have to be a problem? Why couldn’t someone say, Leif, life is great, and the world is beautiful. Why don’t you come share it? But, no, that’s not the way my life goes.

I groaned again and managed to say, “What?”

Charley shook his head. “I don’t know. Look, I’m sorry I didn’t get your equipment off first. I’m, I don’t know, worried. Here’s your OJ. Yang asked you to skip the gym. She really wants you on the bridge as soon as you can get there.”

That bit penetrated the blur. Yong had woken me early on the flight to High Noon, the very first starshot, when the ship’s computer tried to abort the mission after a hib failure. What was it this time?

I downed the orange juice with sugar in one fast chug. Having come out of four previous multiyear hib stretches on starflights, I had learned that the best way to return to the status of a functional human was to follow a carefully escalating workout routine in the gym. It felt awful while I was doing it, but it worked. There would be a good reason if Yang Yong wanted me to skip it. And the good reason would be something bad. Count on it.

I blinked again. “Can I at least get dressed and grab a couple of protein bars from the caf?” I did manage to get the croak out of my voice.

“I’m sure,” Charley said. “Just grab ’em and go to the bridge.”

“I’m on it,” I said. “Where’s the famous laxative pack?”

Charley had that in his other hand. The constipation from hib on an interstellar flight would not, in fact, kill you, but there were times I wished it would.

Once Charley left, I pulled myself out of the unit and stood up, shivering. My muscles shook trying to hold me upright. At least I’d done this often enough to know what would hurt most and how to manage it. The biggest problem was the knee that had been surgically rebuilt after I was wounded on Mindanao back in 2062. That was why I had left the Rangers and the service, and with each long hib, it got harder and harder to return it to normal.

No help for that. I settled for cursing long and loud while I toweled off. Then I pulled on the ship’s polo shirt with its NASA emblem over the left breast and my name, Grettison, embroidered below it. The starshot emblem of a gloved hand clutching a star above STARSHOT xv was stitched over the right breast. Ship pants, ankle socks, and ship boots completed the outfit. We were obviously decelerating at one gee because my weight felt normal, so I didn’t need the SureGrip soles for the StickStrips on the deck.

I pulled open the privacy screen around my unit and stepped out onto the hib deck. All the other units I could see were off. My adrenals squeezed immediately and I felt a sense of panic. Then my mind pulled its memories through the post-hib blur. Of course nearly all the units were empty and off. We had put the colonists down on the planet called Heaven, meaning only seven of us were on the Dauntless for the return to Earth.

I did a set of breathing exercises and got my heart rate and blood pressure under control. It wouldn’t do for me to have a stroke before I heard Yong’s problem. Maybe afterward, if it was bad enough.

With my legs wobbling under me, I took the lift to the deck where the caf was and grabbed energy bars. I took the time to eat one of them and chug another sugared orange juice. I needed to get to the bridge, but I also needed to not fall on my face when I got there.

When I entered the bridge, two energy bars swallowed and two more in my pocket, one of the chairs swiveled around. Yang Yong, pilot-in-command of the Dauntless, stood to greet me. She was a petite and slender woman with high cheekbones and brown hair cropped as short as mine. Small, yes, but there was nothing soft or delicate about her. She’d been a crack attack plane pilot for China’s People’s Liberation Army Air Force during the Troubles, which meant we had been on opposite sides of the fighting. Opposite sides, hell. She had damn near killed me on Mindanao when she bombed my platoon’s position the day the world almost ended.

Fortunately, our relationship had evolved from there. We were now two sides of the same coin and had decided to spend our lives flying through the universe together. It’s not that either one of us ever used the L‑word, but we knew what we meant to each other.

She did not smile at me. She did not even give me her tight little grin. I knew her well enough to tell that she was tense, though no one else would see any difference in the way she held herself.

If Yang Yong was tense, something was very, very wrong.

“What’s the problem?” I asked.

“I don’t know. We are not receiving anything.”

“Nothing?” I tried to wrap my mind around that and let my hand drop from the pocket with the energy bars. They could wait.

“Nothing,” she repeated. “We are inside the orbit of Pluto, and there is no signal from the International Space Commission. I have sent transmissions to Earthbase, NASA, and CNSA. We have received no response, and enough time has elapsed for a reply to reach us. Before you ask, I have checked over our equipment. It is fine. The solar system is silent.”

Author Bio

Colin Alexander

Colin Alexander is a writer of science fiction and fantasy. Actually, Colin Alexander is the pseudonym for Alton Kremer, maybe his alter ego, or who he would have been if he hadn’t been a physician and biochemist and had a career as a medical researcher. His most recent book, The Lucky Starman, is his ninth and the third of the Leif the Lucky novels. Colin is an active member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers Association, Mystery Writers of America, and the Maine Writers & Publishers Alliance. Away from writing fiction, his idea of relaxation is martial arts (taekwondo and minna jiu jitsu). He lives in Maine with his wife.

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

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

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/colinalexander

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/colinalexander

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Pinned by Liz Faraim Blog Tour

On By authoranthonyavinablogIn Blog Tours, Book EventsLeave a comment
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Pinned - Liz Faraim

Liz Faraim has a new lesbian mystery thriller out: Pinned. And there’s a giveaway.

“Rowdy” Randy Cox, a woman staring down the barrel of retirement, is a curmudgeonly blue-collar butch lesbian, who has been single for twenty years and is trying to date again.

At the end of a long, exhausting shift, Randy finds her supervisor, Bryant, pinned and near death at the warehouse where they work. Upon the news of his death, she battles to find a balance between the joys of an exciting new relationship and the struggles of processing her supervisor’s unexpected passing.

The manner of her supervisor’s death leaves Randy unsettled and suspicious as she gets sucked into both a criminal investigation led by the police and an administrative investigation conducted by her employer.

As Randy seeks the truth, trust erodes, key friendships are strengthened, and more loss awaits her.

Warnings: violence, cancer death.

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Giveaway

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

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Excerpt

“Yeah. You wanna ride the canyon?” Bear asked as she ran her fingers through her wild salt-and-pepper hair. Buck and I both nodded. I stowed my snacks and slid on my helmet.

“Okay. Everybody’s all gassed up, right? Last gas station before the canyon is at the casino.”

“We’re good. Filled up before crossing the causeway. Now stand back,” Bear said as she did a Jackie Gleason style windup before hoisting her short leg over the saddle of her bike.

We’d ridden many miles together and I was happy to see that her bike, a massive 1600cc Road Star, which she had lovingly named Champagne, was still on the road.

Buck fired up her Harley with a bone rattling rumble. I reminded myself to ride in front of her. When I rode behind her the engine noise was too much. I paired up the Bluetooth and Spotify again and picked a 1980s hits channel. Van Morrison sang to me about tupelo honey as I pulled out behind Bear, with Buck taking sweep behind us.

As we rolled slowly by PJ’s, the checker was walking out of the front door, gazing down at her cell phone. She looked up just in time to knock me out one more time with her bright eyes and toothy smile, making my heart race. I had to force myself to focus back on riding as we pulled out of the parking lot onto the main road.

We dodged big groups of college kids on bicycles as we passed through intersections until Dairy Glen turned back into farmland. Long, ramrod-straight county roads that ran between tomato and sunflower fields took us to the next county. The coastal mountains rose in the distance, the only thing to break up the scenery of the flat valley floor except for the occasional barn, well pump, or windmill.

Before long the three of us were weaving our way through the green rolling hills of Capay Valley, the two-lane road gently curving around orchards and dormant row crop fields. I saw some farms with livestock, including a few llamas and emu. We passed through the small towns of Madison, Esparto, and Capay.

Around the bend we got to Brooks, where the small farmhouses gave way to the casino, looming large, overlooking vineyards and the foothills. A massive banner strung across the front advertised an upcoming big-name concert. After the casino we passed through Guinda, and the road narrowed further as the terrain changed from wide-open valley floor to canyon, with steep wooded hillsides. The temperature dropped several degrees in the shade of the hills.

I did my best to stay focused on the ride and the road, but the heart-stopping smile I had gotten earlier in Dairy Glen, those blue eyes locked on mine, were a big distraction. I hadn’t given any woman a second look in years, let alone have one get my heart and mind racing.

Bear cruised along, never in a hurry, taking the curves with ease. I checked my side mirror now and then to make sure Buck was still with us, her aftermarket exhaust pipes echoing through the narrow canyon. There were hardly any other vehicles on the canyon road, though we did pass a few packs of cyclists decked out in spandex, riding fancy road bikes. As we rolled by a group of bikes on a steep climb, I watched one guy’s chiseled leg muscles working hard to pedal. The lady in front of him blew a snot rocket over her shoulder and he didn’t even flinch. I was glad to have an engine between my legs and opened the throttle to climb the last bit of the hill.

At the top of the hill, we zoomed by another gaggle of cyclists, resting after their climb. They were all off their bikes, panting and sweating even in the cold. One lady was throwing up in the bushes. Her jersey said “Veni, Vidi, Vomiti.” The slogan rattled around in my brain, drawing me back to my father trying to teach me Latin as a kid. I figured it meant something like: I came, I saw, I barfed. Another lady stood by, leaning on her bike frame, totally unbothered, sucking on one of those goo energy tubes.

My fingers and toes had started to go numb from the cold despite wearing thick socks and boots, and winter riding gloves. While on a short, straight stretch I took my eyes off the road again to turn on the heated grips. I pressed the button and looked up just in time to see Bear dump her bike over farther than I thought possible. Champagne, nearly on its side, cut over into the opposite lane and back.

I scanned the road for the hazard and had just enough time to register a small rockslide, scree and baseball-sized chunks of rock bouncing down the steep hillside and onto the road. I spotted a small gap and rode straight through, pebbles pinging off my helmet and shooting out from under my tires. I checked my mirror and watched as Buck, who’d had the most time to respond, swung out wide and avoided the whole thing with little fuss. That was Buck for ya.

Bear parked in a turnout a few hundred yards up the road. I pulled in behind her to catch my breath. I yanked off my helmet and pulled the bandana down off my mouth, heart doing somersaults.

Bear slapped her chest and let out a roar that reverberated through the hills and down the canyon.

“Awooo! Jesus Christ! Did you see that, Randy?”

“I can’t believe you didn’t dump it. That was some fine goddamn riding.”

“Wasn’t my first time, won’t be my last.” She gasped and shook her hands out.

“Good thing you’ve been riding since before you could spell motorcycle.”

We laughed wildly, which helped me relax and steady myself as the adrenaline rush faded. Buck pulled in behind us, tires crunching on gravel, and killed her engine.

Author Bio

Liz Faraim

Liz has a full plate between balancing a day job, parenting, writing, and finding some semblance of a social life. In past lives she has been a soldier, a bartender, a shoe salesperson, an assistant museum curator, and even a driving instructor. She focuses her writing on strong, queer, female leads who don’t back down.

Liz transplanted to California from New York over thirty years ago. She now lives in the East Bay Area of California and enjoys exploring nature with her wife and son.

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

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/liz.faraim.9/

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

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/20769735.Liz_Faraim

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/?s=faraim&search_type=authors

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Liz-Faraim/author/B092YXBXFV

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Chantz by Tim Rayborn Blog Tour and Excerpt

On By authoranthonyavinablogIn Blog Tours, Book EventsLeave a comment

Reality wasn’t what it used to be.

One moment, everything was fine. Just a normal, run-of-the-mill indie goth alternative rock show at the Leeds University Union on a Sunday afternoon in late April. Just a young band singing about the most angsty issues of the moment, playing less-than-commercial music that was a cut above the usual pop twaddle. Nothing out of the ordinary, really.  

But then, things got decidedly odd, downright bizarre. Up was down, or maybe it was just an inverted up? The walls were closing in, or were they falling away very close by? It got very dark, almost brightly so. And the intense volume of the music was almost inaudible. If this was a part of the show, it was damned strange, but strangely appealing.

The band in question, the Mystic Wedding Weasels, was making something of a splash recently, and the hall was packed with young fans eager to soak up their particular brand of musical peculiarity, most notably in the figure of their enigmatic singer. And she seemed to be the source of this sudden oddness. At least, twelve-year-old witch Jilly Pleeth thought so.

Jilly couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see her favorite new band live, and she’d invited her friend Lluck along for the experience. He was half-human, half Indian Fae, all teenage attitude, and could affect the laws of probability in his favor. So, not your typical fourteen-year-old. She’d met him last winter during a rather crazy adventure involving an ancient Germanic forest spirit that wanted to eat his heart; as one does. Also, his long-lost mum was now dating Jilly’s best friend, a shadow with glowing red eyes; it’s a rather long and strange story.

In any case, returning to the matter at hand, everything had been as expected for the first few songs, when things shifted into all sorts of odd and back, but what was happening?

“Did you see that?” Jilly asked Lluck over the din of the current song, something about feeling dreadful in the face of ultimate despair.

“See what?” he half-shouted back at her.

“You didn’t notice how everything just went all… funny for a bit?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Everything just changed!”

“Changed how? What are you on about?”

“Something crazy strange is going on. It doesn’t feel normal.”

“All right, Ms. Witchy, I’ll take your word for it. But strange is the new normal these days, anyway, so who cares? Can we just watch the show, please?”

Jilly didn’t answer, but she remained unsettled. She turned her attention back to the singer, Chantz, at least that’s what she called herself. Jilly didn’t know her real name, if she had one. She looked to be in her early twenties, sported long black hair (with a streak of green-dyed tresses cascading down the right side of her head) and the obligatory black vestments: black dress, fishnets, black Doc Marten boots, long and wispy black shirt, open and trailing about her. But her voice was the real draw. It was enchanting, captivating; it drew in Jilly like a… spell. Jilly scrunched up her nose in that way that she always did when alarm bells went off in her head. Well, perhaps they were more like wind chimes.

She grabbed Lluck by the arm and yelled into his ear. “It’s magic!”

“Yeah, it’s all right isn’t it?” He bobbed his head up and down in time with the song.

She rolled her eyes. “No, you nitwit! Not the show, the singer.”

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Chantz - Tim Rayborn

Tim Rayborn has a new queer urban fantasy out (bi, lesbian), Qwyrk Tales book 3: Chantz.

Qwyrk can’t get a break. Spring is springing, but she’s stuck breaking up drunken faery fights as Beltane approaches. She really wants to take things to the next level with her possibly-probably-girlfriend Holly, but she keeps coming down with a chronic case of chickening out.

And now, her best human friend, Jilly Pleeth, has had a rather odd encounter. While attending a concert by her favorite band, the Mystic Wedding Weasels, Jilly was amazed by their enigmatic singer, Chantz. There’s something downright magical about her voice, something so magical that an evil force from outside this world wants her for nefarious reasons. But will Chantz succumb to its lure?

Chantz is the third in a series of four novels about the comic misadventures of a group of misfits at the edge of normal reality in modern northern England, a world of shadows, Nighttime Nasties, eldritch screaming horrors, appalling neo-Shakespearean sonnets, undead corvids, an abundance of verbal sparring, and… Qwyrk is not an elf, all right? They’re just silly!

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Excerpt

Chantz meme - Tim Rayborn

After a few minutes of meandering on campus, she found a rather expansive and tree-filled enclosure marked by a sign reading “Welcome to St. George’s Field.” Seeing as she could lose herself in its trees, this place would suffice. Wandering in, she found herself strolling through a historic cemetery, which appealed to her gothy aesthetic sensibilities. She sat herself down on a stone bench not far from some centuries-old headstones and tried to focus, to think, to something.

She closed her eyes, trying to recall the feeling of the power flowing through her.

“What are you?” she whispered.

For a time, she felt nothing. Sighing in frustration, she opened her eyes. The field was mercifully unpopulated today, so she decided to risk singing a little tune, an old Irish folk song. She couldn’t remember where she’d learned it. She couldn’t remember much of anything before the last couple of years, to be honest. But there it was, stuck in her head, so she called on it.

It was a simple melody with a short verse and a chorus. She didn’t even know all the words, but that didn’t matter. She just sang the bit she knew over and over. It was soothing, comforting, and connected her to something, as if stirring a memory. She closed her eyes again, allowing it to wash over her. For the first time in a while, she formed a genuine smile. Not a big smile, mind you, she did have her reputation to think of, after all.

As she neared the third repeat, something happened. She heard a voice in her head, one that contrasted with her own. It was more like a momentary flash of sound, in a language she didn’t recognize. It didn’t make her stop singing; in fact, she wanted to continue. After she sang another verse or two, and she heard it again, like a call across some great gap. But was it far away in the distance? Or maybe in time?

How does that even make any sense?

Intrigued, she kept singing, but lowered her voice so as not to attract any onlookers. It would be just like someone to come up in the middle of it and ruin the whole experience, with their chattiness and insipid curiosity.

As it turned out, she was indeed interrupted, but not by any passersby who should have been minding their own business. In her mind’s eye, she saw a face. The face of an old woman. She had long, disheveled grey-streaked hair, and her complexion was wan and weathered, with dark shadows under her eyes. There was almost something cool about her. The face was obscured, as if peering through a fog, and Moirin couldn’t gauge its intent. She wasn’t imagining it; her imagination was good, but not this good. The woman opened her mouth as if to say something, but no words emerged, and if she were the one speaking those foreign words, Moirin wouldn’t have understood her, anyway.

The old woman smiled, but it was an odd smile, and not really a happy one, more like sinister grin. She seemed to want something from Moirin. The smile grew bigger and stretched to unnatural proportions. Her eyes began to lighten, not just the pupils, but the whole of her eyes, greying at first and then fading into a milky white.

Moirin’s heart raced. She stopped singing and gasped. Whatever this thing was, she wanted nothing to do with it. She tried to open her eyes, but they were heavy, almost as if she’d been drugged. Her ears seemed to close up, and the world around her disappeared. She shook her head and tried to stand up, but just like her eyes, her legs no longer worked. She started to panic and opened her mouth again, not to sing but to scream, shout for help, something. But no sound escaped.

The face sneered at her, perhaps enjoying her helplessness. It became ever more twisted and grotesque and opened its mouth again, almost in mockery of Moirin’s inability to do so. A low-pitched wailing sounded from the old woman, a mournful call that seemed to portend something awful. It rose in pitch and volume to a full-on cry, a tuneless and wordless plaint that sounded like something out of an older time. It shook Moirin to the core, but the more she heard it, the more it seemed to invite her, to draw her in, even to tempt her. Whatever the ill intent of this creature invading her mind, and however frightening its call, Moirin felt oddly at home. She began to surrender to its lure, to its awful and seductive pull.

Author Bio

Tim Rayborn

Tim Rayborn has written an astonishing number of books over the past several years. He lived in England for quite some time and has a PhD from the University of Leeds, which he likes to pretend means that he knows what he’s talking about. His generous output of written material covers topics such as music, the arts, history, the strange and bizarre, fantasy and sci-fi, and general knowledge.

He’s also an acclaimed musician. He plays dozens of unusual instruments that quite a few people of have never heard of and often can’t pronounce. He has appeared on over forty recordings, and his musical wanderings and tours have taken him across the US, all over Europe, to Canada and Australia, and to such romantic locations as Marrakech, Istanbul, Renaissance chateaux, medieval churches, and high school gymnasiums.

He currently lives in Washington state (where it rains a lot), surrounded by many books and instruments, as well as with a sometimes-demanding cat. He is rather enthusiastic about good wines, and cooking excellent food.

Author Website: https://timrayborn.com/

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

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

Author Mastodon: https://mastodon.social/@timrayborn

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rayborn.esoterica/

Author Liminal Fiction: https://www.limfic.com/?s=tim+rayborn&search_type=book_search

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Tim-Rayborn/author/B00DWY5J8E

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Excerpt + Blog Tour: Echelon’s End Book One: Last Generation by E. Robert Dunn

On By authoranthonyavinablogIn Blog Tours, Book EventsLeave a comment

SYSTEM STAR CYCLE: SUPPLEMENTAL

PLANETARY DATE: SUPPLEMENTAL

LAUNCH TIME: TEE-MINUS 02:04:04

There was a crowd milling around the entrance to the embarkation point’s airlock for the probeship Saarien. It was a farewell ceremony for the crew. 

The Spacecorps officers stood trim and fit in standard duty uniform dress: a close-fitting, full-length two-tone garment. Each one of the personnel’s uniforms consisted of black trousers, matching utility belt and ankle boots, and black tunics with a color-coded horizontal chest stripe for the appropriate branch. 

Piping of the branch color threaded through the black shoulder covering, rank insignia worn on the left collar; a chevron-fashioned intraship communicator pin occupied the right. With all the various personnel lined up to see the crew off, it looked as if the astronauts were passing through a rainbow of reds, oranges, yellows, greens, blues, golds, browns, and purples.

Each member of the Saarien team was photogenic and full of confidence, everyone’s image of spacefarers. Clasping forearms as they strolled down the featureless corridor, the eighteen astronauts’ hefted tote bags filled with their personal effects and went through the vestibule and into the lock. Beyond, they were shuttled from the interplanetary Orbiter 1 to the outer dock where the moored Saarien inside the lacy mooring filigree of the orbital station.

The bridge deck’s starboard airlock door slid slowly open with a distinct reassuring hiss. As one, the survey team stepped outside the probeship reception airlock into Deck 1’s assembly point. Each drew in a lungful of stale, yet pleasantly cooled air. Moving as one, the colonist ventured from the starboard vestibule down a short corridor and into the bridge’s Operations Wardroom; it bore the same clinical, featureless color scheme as the Orbiter 1: Aidennia. 

Even compared to the spacestation’s mission operations room, the bridge’s wardroom was a spacious two-tier sixteen-retemed high, by seventy-three-retemed long, by forty-four-retemed wide dome. Its gray-white curving walls were alighted with colorful data holo-displays. 

Dozens of three-dimensional maps, charts, and graphs tracked the streams of information that moved in and out of Saarien from every point in the sector and many places beyond. The clean lines of its architecture could not conceal the fact that it bristled with the most advanced technology Spacecorps had to offer. 

Saarien was equipped with a mission-ready bridge and shipwide systems control. Instrument and computer stations ranked for science officers, propulsion systems engineers, emergency manual override, and environmental systems. There were swivel chairs for every workstation around the bridge operation pit’s perimeter and the quarterdeck. 

On the main floor of the bridge were contained the typical complement of control stations, with the addition of a small main floor area at the bridge’s aft with an integral master situation monitor and conference table with surrounding overhead monitors and computing hardware that would allow the crew to study and plan strategies and tactics during reduced action periods. Engineering and science stations had been included and had dedicated data network lines to the main computer and critical systems, both were vital to the operation of the probeship should a battle ensue. 

In the bridge’s forward section was another opened isolation hatch, it framed the interior of the command section where the flight control (conn) and flight operations (ops) consoles with their contoured flight chairs were set immediately in front of the bridge’s main viewscreen. 

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Commander Capel Perezsire had seen the bridge before, but even now, he could not restrain letting out a long, slow breath of appreciation. He supposed he would get used to it, too; but he hoped he would never lose the proud lift of his heart that he had felt when he had first stepped onto the bridge so many months ago during its final shakedown; the same rush he was experiencing now as he moved into the nerve center with the others. 

Captain Cellini, a male Dorian descended from Aidennian stock, allowed himself to feel a measure of satisfaction in his ship and his crew as he spotted the approaching science team, absently smoothing his dark mustache with thumb and forefinger. With a few confident strides, he exited the command section and entered the bridge’s main area. 

He had belief that all aboard would perform admirably under his command; he was the type of person who rubbed his hands together when he was about to dive into something — a debate, a good meal, a prickly scientific hypothesis. He did everything with a certain gusto.  With his free hand, he held a data imager — a wafer-thin hand-held pad that had a flat view screen with blue-lettered captions scrolling. 

Glancing at it, he resumed his review of personnel profiles — most of the information he knew from memory — having reviewed the inventory of the personnel under his charge since the moment they assembled. All of them Non-Echelon breeding stock, most of them were adults, with a complement of offspring — the majority post-pubescent/pre-ka-telan.  

Ah, he thought winsomely, that time in life in which an individual has arrived just past puberty and just before the state in an individual’s development when he or she is physically/emotionally/spiritually capable of sexual pre-determination awareness. He stifled a chuckle behind another thought, Ah; the hormone rush will be unbearable once we get to Mira IV!  Thank the Oversoul I am Echelon and stationed here onboard Saarien and not planetside!   

Cellini, arms now behind his back, stared levelly at the tableau, and then his gaze flickered to his second-in-command. The captain smiled faintly as one of the scientists caught the attention of his first officer. He recognized the young male from the roster; he was memorable because his pre-mission scans were very inconclusive to his predicted ka-tela orientation.  Ah, the politics of Space exploration, Cellini mused.

Last Generation - E. Robert Dunn

E. Robert Dunn has a new queer sci-fi book out, Echelon’s End book one: Last Generation.

The year is 6752, A.T. and Earth is but a memory to its space faring descendents. The urbane beings of The System embark on a test-colonization mission to a far off solar group called Mira. The AST [Aidennia-System Transport] Saarien’s flight path is ended abruptly and the colonizing supership explodes under a hail from Tauron Starhounds; a century of peace with the Tauron Empire is fractured. Six Aidennian survivors jettison in a terra-forming conestoga Pioneer Pod.

Now, a young male echelon couple and their fellow crewmembers must deal with a reality in which their peaceful existence is shattered by war and prejudice. The only solace appears in the form of an unknown, arid planet in a ternary star group.

Upon the Pioneer Pod Four’s descent into the planet’s atmosphere, a defense planetary shield is activated and causes the Pod 4 to crash land in an ancient, dried-up seabed. This sets the Aidennians on a jarring adventure where survival is a game of chance with the life forces of the Universe.

Warnings: There are adult (sexual) references and interaction in several of the books.

Universal Buy Link | Goodreads

Excerpt

“Target”

CHAPTER ONE:

SYSTEM STAR CYCLE: 6752.0719 A.T.
PLANETARY DATE: 171/195
LAUNCH TIME: TEE-MINUS 02:32:30

A tranquil sphere hung in Space under a white cloud.

“I don’t know why,” Medical Commander Dara Lidasiress muttered to herself out loud, “but I have a bad feeling about all of this.”

From a vantage point some four hundred kiloretems above, Dara was watching it beyond the thick syntheglass of an observation viewport; the sight was dizzying, fascinating. The cloud‑shrouded planet Aidennia. It seemed to lie almost in the trajectory of the Orbiter 1: Aidennia Station. The light of a strong, middle‑aged sun cataloged as Pintarus 19 fell on the cloud.

“Count now stands at minus zero two nodes and thirty-two, and counting,” the station controller announced over the station PA. “All networks are green and go.”

Dara smiled nervously, distracting herself by the vista beyond and beneath her view. “Calm yourself,” she said aloud. “Feeling anxious is normal and natural. It is part of the system that evolved to keep us safe and well.” She took a deep breath. Being the only one in the observation lounge, she felt somewhat silly being self-conscious about her anxiousness. “Come on. Give it a chance.”

There was still plenty of time before she would be called. Dara shifted her attention and the room seemed to slip away, walls became gossamer and ethereal.

She was suddenly thinking of other times, and other places…

The public address net hummed again, then the controller was back with another update. “Minus zero two nodes and fifteen and counting. Technicians, complete final checkouts.”

Dara’s attention refocused as her peripheral view caught a glimpse of her reflection coming off the window. A tall, powerful slender, fine-boned figure, with high cheekbones and penetrating chocolate eyes that gave a look of great delicacy founded in extraordinary resiliency framed by a neatly cropped mane told that she was no shallow youth, but a fully mature adult.

Saying good‑bye had not been easy, especially to her elder sibling, Aspera. A sadness that had kept a small place in her heart now pulsed as Dara viewed Aidennia below.

“Medical Commander,” an unexpected, disembodied page intoned over the still airwaves.

“Yes?”

“There’s a planet to orbit call coming through for you.”

“Fine. I will take it here.”

The stylized blue-and-white ovals of the Spacecorps logo flashed holographically off a communication set. A dark-haired female holograph, an avatar of the real person making the summons, coalesced into view. The similarities between the two females were undeniable. Broad smiling features caused Dara’s voice to fill with emotion, her features melting into sudden recognition.

“Aspera!” Dara gasped, excitedly.

“I know your life is anything but normal right now, but I just had to say one last farewell.”

Feelings of euphoria swept repeatedly over Dara as she spoke without turning her eyes from the miniaturized figure on the holo-emitter. “I welcome any communication from you.”

“How are you doing?”

“Nervous.”

The female holograph laughed warmly, flashing a set of perfectly formed white teeth. The sound fell on ears that were eager to hear such a resonance.

“You would not be you without being that.” Aspera smiled. “You have much responsibility on your shoulders being peret of the vanguard for generations of clans to come. The first settlers on a new world where unlimited food and water will be the birthright for all…”

“You’re quoting incentive simulations.”

“Well, it is true. Regardless of the stature you have been elevated to by Spacecorps,” her smile broadened more. “You will always be my little sister.”

“A title I will always be proud to have…”

Dara was cut off as another controller announcement echoed throughout the towering launch apparatus.

“This is Spacecorps Launch Control,” he said. “Complete close-out preparations. Check command-apse switch configurations. Complete inertial measurement unit preflight alignments. Transition onboard computers to launch configuration. Start fuel cell thermal conditioning. Close vent valves. Transition backup flight system to launch configuration.’

“Sounds busy up there,” Aspera mused, undeterred.

Dara nodded. “Never-ending.”

“Are you alone?”

“Yes.”

“Where are the others?”

“Capel’s attending a mission commanders final briefing. The children are completing their concluding physicals with the other Pod crews, so I am just…”

“Seeking some solace before the launch.”

“You know me too well.”

Aspera hesitated, wanting to be near her sister, to soothe, to remind, to strengthen familial bonds. Another female would, perhaps, have flushed a little, she did not. Her face grew urgent. Meeting her younger sibling’s eyes, she said, steadily, “Then I best let you get to it.” She paused, more from emotion than for dramatic effect; she fought back sudden tears. Finally, she added, “Always know you are loved.”

“Always.”

There was another hesitation. A non-verbal exchange. The secret language between siblings.

“Are you more at peace with your decision?” Aspera asked.

“About the children?”

Aspera simply nodded.

“Capel and I have lived a good part of our lives,” Dara waxed. “The children are just starting out. If someone should be apart of this colonization effort, it should be Capel and me…”

“Do you remember when you were discussing your plans for the space flight? You could not decide whether you had the right to bring Moela, Retho, and Lunon along.”

“Yes. I remember.”

“Do you regret your decision?”

“You want the truth?”

“The truth.”

“Well, not knowing how long we can last out there…” Dara stifled a sob. “They deserve something more than that.”

“Having them with you …Is that what you want?”

“Yes.” Dara regained her composure, adding, “I suppose so.”

“They are degreed and qualified.”

The two siblings gazed at each other. Dara closed her eyes to show how she felt. Their bodies yearned across the void to reach each other, but they remained motionless. Aspera clenched her teeth.

“Until we meet again.”

Dara drew in her breath. Her voice was cracked with emotion as she replied, “Until then.”

Aspera sighed as she and her smile disappeared.

Author Bio

E. Robert Dunn

Born in the Midwest, raised in the Northeast, E. Robert Dunn began writing at the age of 14 and continued through his higher education in the Southeast where he currently resides. In addition to penning the science fiction series “Echelon’s End”, E. Robert has also written two off-Broadway plays, “LipSync” and “A Dragged Out Haunting”, and solo-penned the short-play entitled “VOiCES”. Additional works include, “The World We Live In”, The Life Of Another”, and “Are You Happy?”.

Robert was a contributing writer to the online STAR TREK: Odyssey’s Season One Finale webisode [featured in STARLOG Magazine, January 2008, “Beyond Hidden Frontiers”, p.89]. E. Robert has become a regular at SuperCon events on panels and participating in book signings/readings.

Besides being a produced playwright and published author, E. Robert has had articles printed in local newspapers as well as medical newsletters. He has also graced many a stage by his given name: Eston Dunn. He is the founder of the nonprofit organization artsUnited, Inc. A recent project is founding another non-profit online webcasting charity to educate while entertain through programs that unite those that are separated by the walls of stereotyping, prejudice, and bigotry (www.watchoutweb.org).

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

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/e.robert.dunn

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

Author Mastadon: @erobertdunn@masto.ai

Author Instagram: @erobertdunn

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/548150.E_Robert_Dunn

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/E.-Robert-Dunn/author/B001JRVEIK

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Malena MCD by Beryll & Osiris Brackhaus 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. 

Bookbaby.com helps independent authors bring their creative vision to the marketplace. Sell eBooks online in the biggest retail stores.

A man-made to be a human pleasure “pet” becomes evidence in a murder investigation, and must help uncover the mystery behind the crime while living with the investigator and his wife in authors Beryll & Osiris Brackhaus’s “Malena MCD”. 

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The Synopsis

Mauve is a pet, a human pleasure slave. He is smart, ambitious, horny – and the only witness in a murder case. Or rather, he is ‘evidence’.

Luckily, the crime was committed on Malicorn, where an unsolved murder would disturb its profitable reputation as the safest planet of the Empire. So Mauve ends up in the hands of the Malena MCD, the local Major Crimes Division, run by ex-space-marine Alexej Sirenkov and his brilliant wife Andrea. Unwilling to see him stored in the evidence locker, the Sirenkovs take him home for a few days. And while Mauve hopes they might just be the perfect forever-owners, he has no idea of Mistress Andrea’s plans for them…

Written by award-winning authors Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus, ‘Malena MCD’ is a funny, naughty, police procedural throuple rom-com set in the wildly diverse, hopeful ‘Virasana Empire’ universe and can be read as a stand-alone.

Warnings: First Person POV, Slavery, MMF threesomes, Graphic Sex Scenes, Violence. And pigs, of course. We’re on Malicorn.

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The Review

The world-building in this novel was outstanding. The vast differences in culture and societal norms were felt instantly with the introduction of the protagonist Mauve and the entire system of breeding facilities and the installation of human pets in general. The whole book felt like a commentary on the emergence of more and more realistic sex dolls and the talk of AI-run human dolls and the morality of it all. The conflict that arises between Alexej and his wife Andrea is so unique to see, as it showcases his hatred of slavery in their society and her desire to implement it into their household.

The commentary on slavery and sexual relationships between couples and a third party, in particular those that involve Dom and subs made for some truly interesting discussion points and drove the plot forward greatly. The genuine shock and eagerness Mauve felt when Alexej shared kindness and warmth and treated him like a person was emotional to read, and the shocking realities of their society served as the perfect foil to the actual murder mystery of the novel. The police procedural that took place was evenly paced and made for an intriguing read.

The Verdict

Thought-provoking, engaging, and at times shocking, authors Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus’s “Malena MCD” is a must-read novel for those who enjoy a mix of LGBTQ-driven erotica and sci-fi police procedurals. The twists and turns the narrative takes, both for the crime itself and the personal lives of these three protagonists, will keep readers enthralled, and the way the authors are able to bring a sci-fi element to the story without focusing too hard on the science aspect of sci-fi made this a fast read. This is definitely a book more geared towards those who enjoy erotica that involves more dominant and submissive story elements, so be prepared for that, and while that aspect of the novel was lost on me, the mystery that was presented and the morality that was explored through these characters made for some fascinating world-building. If you haven’t yet, be sure to grab your copy today!

Rating: 10/10

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Malena MCD - Beryll & Osiris Brackhaus

Beryll & Osiris Brackhaus have a new queer sci-fi book out (bi, pan, poly), the latest tale in their Virasana Empire: Malena MCD.

Mauve is a pet, a human pleasure slave. He is smart, ambitious, horny – and the only witness in a murder case. Or rather, he is ‘evidence’.

Luckily, the crime was committed on Malicorn, where an unsolved murder would disturb its profitable reputation as the safest planet of the Empire. So Mauve ends up in the hands of the Malena MCD, the local Major Crimes Division, run by ex-space-marine Alexej Sirenkov and his brilliant wife Andrea. Unwilling to see him stored in the evidence locker, the Sirenkovs take him home for a few days. And while Mauve hopes they might just be the perfect forever-owners, he has no idea of Mistress Andrea’s plans for them…

Written by award-winning authors Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus, ‘Malena MCD’ is a funny, naughty, police procedural throuple rom-com set in the wildly diverse, hopeful ‘Virasana Empire’ universe and can be read as a stand-alone.

Warnings: First Person POV, Slavery, MMF threesomes, Graphic Sex Scenes, Violence. And pigs, of course. We’re on Malicorn.

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Excerpt

“We can’t just leave him here on the couch, you know?” The drone of voices nearby had slowly been pulling me out of my nap for a while now, but these were the first words to actually penetrate the haze.

“Well, I won’t put him in those evidence holding cells!” Alexej’s voice got me wide awake. So he had returned to the headquarters. And they were talking about me. “Have you ever been there? It’s horrible!”

“Yes, love, I have been there.” Mistress Sirenkov, calm and patient. “And it’s not horrible. It’s clean, they get fed regularly.”

“They just sit in their cells, staring off into nothing. Do they drug them?” He sounded livid.

I cracked an eye open to locate them. They were standing right outside the office in the corridor, arguing.

“Alexej… what do you expect them to do? Sing and dance for your pleasure?”

She was being sarcastic, of course, but she did have a point. Granted, there wasn’t much to do for a slave impounded at the evidence locker. But for a slave, that wasn’t necessarily something negative. When else did you ever get a chance to just sit around and do nothing without having to worry about your owner violently objecting to your inactivity?

“I don’t know! I… I won’t let them have the kid.” He sounded much less outraged than frustrated by now. “Can’t we just take him home with us?”

Take me home?! Now that sounded like a spectacular idea. I would be able to work in Alexej’s house!

And they were commoners, so with a bit of luck they didn’t have too many slaves yet and I could make myself indispensable. Not sure how to do that, though, without any useful skills. As a bargain bin pet, what little training I got had barely covered the basics of how to give a blowjob or how to keep still when being fucked.

But I was smart and had picked up a few things along the way. How to make coffee, how to hang up laundry or do dishes and a smattering of other housekeeping abilities. A bit like a proper household slave, and that was infinitely better than being a pet. Householders got more valuable with age, while every pet had a doomsday clock ticking over their heads counting down to the day when they would be too old and used up to be desirable anymore. That thought had kept me motivated over the years. And I was a fast learner.

So this little sliver of a chance made my heart pound in my chest. Plus, being around Alexej all the time? The mere thought of seeing his gorgeous ass every day made me half hard. It would be torture, not being allowed to touch and lick him all over – but what sweet, sweet torture that would be!

“After all, he is evidence, and he might still prove useful in our investigations.” Alexej sounded like he was pleading a case, though the argument he chose wasn’t exactly the reason I had hoped for. “We should question him further tomorrow and see what else he can tell us about his late master.”

Mistress Sirenkov remained curiously quiet for a while. “I guess there’s no harm in that,” she eventually agreed. There was an odd undertone in her voice that I couldn’t identify, but Alexej seemed oblivious to it.

“So that’s settled then,” he stated and I quickly closed my eyes, pretending I was still asleep when he entered the office.

The couch dipped as he sat down on the edge and a comfortingly big and gentle hand nudged my shoulder. “Hey kid, wake up.”

I blinked at him sleepily, trying to give a credible show of just waking up. He still looked as delectable as he had earlier, only now his hair was more tousled and the shadow across his jaw more pronounced. I also noticed Mistress Sirenkov standing in the doorway behind him, her arms crossed over her chest, watching thoughtfully.

Alexej turned his reassuring smile on me and Mistress faded out of focus as all my attention was drawn to this gorgeous man.

“You look much better already.” Of course he didn’t mean it the way I wanted, but rational thought was hugely overrated anyway, especially when faced with so much attractive manliness. “I have to quickly take care of a few things here but then we’ll go home,” he continued. “We’ve decided that you’ll be staying with us for the duration of the investigation.”

I wasn’t sure if he expected a proper answer to that so I just nodded.

“Now, kid, I want you to do something for me…” A blowjob?! I’m good with blowjobs! Really! No one has ever complained! I’ll…

“I want you to start thinking about a name for yourself. We can’t just keep calling kid, can we?”

Oh.

I really needed to get a handle on my reactions to this man, or very soon I would make a complete idiot of myself and probably gross him out completely. I wasn’t exactly an expert at seduction since my owners hadn’t wasted a word on me except maybe ‘kneel’ or ‘hold still’. So apart from my probably rather useless knowledge from romance holonovelas, I had no clue how to get into his pants. And if I had, it would have been a very bad idea to try, with the wife and the daughter. With a professional attitude, I might have a chance at prolonging my presence in Alexej’s household, but if I behaved like the cheap slut I was, I would ruin whatever slim chances I had.

“Think you can do that?”

Do what?

Right, think of a name. In all honesty, I had no idea whatsoever. How does one pick a name for oneself? But I nodded anyway, just to please him. I would do anything just to see that smile of his again, so I needed to fucking figure out a name for myself. How hard could it be? I was well aware that it would be a temporary thing, anyway. I would only have it as long as I was with Alexej and the Mistress. Which, judging by my lack of self control, wouldn’t be overly long.

“I won’t be long. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” Alexej reached out and tousled my hair like I was some cute kid or dog.

Fuck, it was insulting.

Maybe I wasn’t as drool-worthy as other pets, but to be shown he didn’t consider me sexy at all plain hurt. Still, his touch made me tingle all over and I wanted to hump his leg. What was wrong with me?! Granted, he was pushing all my buttons, but that didn’t explain why I was an inch away from begging him to fuck me. I wasn’t this needy usually.

Author Bio

Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus are a couple currently living their happily ever after in the very heart of Germany, under the stern but loving surveillance of their cats.

Both are voracious but picky readers, love telling stories and drinking tea, good food and the occasional violent movie. Together, they write novels of adventure and romance, hoping to share a little of our happiness with our readers.

An artist by heart, Beryll was writing stories even before she knew what letters were. As easily inspired as she is frustrated, her own work is never good enough (in her eyes). A perfectionist in the best and worst sense of the word at the same time and the driving creative force of our duo.

An entertainer and craftsman in his approach to writing, Osiris is the down-to-earth, practical part of our duo. Broadly interested in almost every subject and skill, with a sunny mood and caring personality, he strives to bring the human nature into focus of each of his stories.

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

Author Facebook (Personal): https://de-de.facebook.com/people/Osiris-Brackhaus/100011014541510/

Author Mastadon: https://mastodon.social/@brackhaus (@brackhaus@mastodon.social)

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

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6427435.Osiris_Brackhaus

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/de/Osiris-Brackhaus/e/B00IVTRO2E

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The Dragon Eater (The Tharassas Cycle Book One) by J. Scott Coatsworth Review

On By authoranthonyavinablogIn Blog Tours, Book Events, 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 thief, a guardsman, and an initiate priestess must work together to stop a world-altering threat unlike anything they’ve ever seen in author J. Scott Coatsworth’s “The Dragon Eater”, the first book in the Tharassas Cycle series. 

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The Synopsis

Raven’s a thief who just swallowed a dragon.

A small one, sure, but now his arms are growing scales, the local wildlife is acting up, and his snarky AI familiar is no help whatsoever.

Raven’s best friend Aik is a guardsman carrying a torch for the thief. A pickpocket and a guard? Never going to happen. And Aik’s ex-fiancé Silya, an initiate priestess in the midst of a magical crisis, hates Raven with the heat of a thousand suns.

This unlikely team must work together to face strange beasts, alien artifacts, and a world-altering threat. If they don’t figure out what to do soon, it might just be the end of everything.

Things are about to get messy.

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The Review

This was a captivating and thrilling blend of sci-fi meets fantasy. The space opera narrative felt somehow natural in all its glory, and the author did an incredible job of having just the right amount of imagery and atmosphere to really bring the reader into this alien world. The ways in which the characters see this fusion of the ancient magics they’ve always known with the emergence of this alien technology and scientific discovery was so driving to read and played into the concept of destiny and discovery very well.

For me, as always with this wonderful author, the heart of the narrative rested in the fantastic character development that brought this fantasy and sci-fi world to life. The LGBTQ+ themes and relationships that are explored, especially the budding romance between Raven and Aik, are inviting and inclusive, giving readers a romance to root for and telling it in a natural way for the narrative. The tension that arises when Silya joins the group and the humor of Raven’s friendship with the AI companion Spin he brings on his adventures create a great balance within the narrative. The introduction and inclusion of the chilling “Spore Mother” are great teases for the future of this series as well.

Bookbaby.com helps independent authors bring their creative vision to the marketplace. Sell eBooks online in the biggest retail stores.

The Verdict

Captivating, thrilling, and entertaining, author J. Scott Coatsworth’s “The Dragon Eater” is a must-read space opera sci-fi meets fantasy novel and a great first chapter in the Tharassas Cycle series. The cliffhanger endings that leave the core group on their own paths by the book’s end and the spine-chilling tease of the Spore Mother’s continued evolution will have fans hanging off of the author’s every word, eager to dive into this imaginative world once more. If you haven’t yet, be sure to grab your copy today! 

Rating: 10/10

The Dragon Eater - J. Scott Coatsworth

J. Scott Coatsworth has a new queer YA/Crossover Sci-Fantasy book out – The Dragon Eater, Tharassas Cycle book one. There’s a giveaway, and a free book with purchase too!

Raven’s a thief who just swallowed a dragon. A small one, sure, but now his arms are growing scales, the local wildlife is acting up, and his snarky AI familiar is no help whatsoever.

Raven’s best friend Aik is a guardsman carrying a torch for the thief. A pickpocket and a guard? Never going to happen. And Aik’s ex-fiancé Silya, an initiate priestess in the midst of a magical crisis, hates Raven with the heat of a thousand suns.

This unlikely team must work together to face strange beasts, alien artifacts, and a world-altering threat. If they don’t figure out what to do soon, it might just be the end of everything.

Things are about to get messy.

About the Series:

The Tharassas Cycle is a four book sci-fantasy series set on the recently colonized world of Tharassas. When humans first arrived on planet, they thought they were alone until the hencha mind made itself known. But now a new threat has arisen to challenge both humankind and their new allies on this alien world.

Preorder and Get the Prequel Free

I’m giving away the prequel, Tales From Tharassas, with all preorders – it contains The Last Run, The Emp Test, and a brand new short story the Fallen Angel. Just order the book and email me a proof of purchase at scott@jscottcoatsworth.com, and I’ll send you the book on release day (March 16th).

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Giveaway

Scott is giving away a $20 book gift card with this reveal – your choice of Amazon, B&N, Kobo or Smashwords. Enter for a chance to win:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47276/?

Excerpt

Dragon Eater meme

Spin’s voice echoed in his ear. “This is a bad idea, boss.”

“Shush,” Raven whispered to his familiar.

He needed to concentrate. Cheek and jowl against the smooth cobblestones, he held his breath and prayed to the gods that no one had seen him duck under the sea master’s ornate carriage. The setting sun cast long shadows from a pair of boots so close to his face that the dust and leather made him want to sneeze. Their owner was deep in conversation with the sea master, the hem of her fine mur silk trousers barely visible. The two women’s voices were hushed, and he could only make out the occasional word.

Raven rubbed the old burn scar on his cheek absently, wishing they would go away.

“Seriously, boss. I’m not from this world, and even I know it’s a bad idea to steal from the sea master.”

Though only he could hear Spin’s voice, Raven wished the little silver ay-eye would just shut up.

The hencha cloth-wrapped package in the carriage above was calling to him. He’d wanted it since he’d first seen it through the open door. No, needed it. Like he needed air, even though he had no idea what was inside. He scratched the back of his hand hard to distract himself from its disturbing pull.

An inthym popped its head out of the sewer grate in front of him, sniffing the air. Raven glared at the little white rodent, willing it to go away. Instead, the cursed thing nibbled at his nose.

Raven sneezed, then covered his mouth. He held his breath, staring at the boots. Don’t let them hear me.

A shiny silver feeler poked out of his shirt pocket, emitting a golden glow that illuminated the cobblestones underneath him. “Boss, you all right?” Spin’s whisper had that sarcastic edge he often used when he was annoyed. “Your heart rate is elevated.”

“Be. Quiet.” Raven gritted his teeth. Spin had the worst sense of timing.

The woman — one of the guard, maybe? — and the sea master stepped away, their voices fading into the distance.

Raven said a quick prayer of thanks to Jor’Oss, the goddess of wild luck, and flicked the inthym back into the sewer. “Shoo!”

He popped his head out from under the carriage to take a quick look around. There was no one between him and the squat gray Sea Guild headquarters. It was time. Grab it and go.

He reached into the luxurious carriage — a host of mur beetles must have spent years spinning all the red silk that lined the interior — and snagged the package. He hoped it was the treasury payment for the week. If so, it should hold enough coin to feed an orphanage for a month, and he knew just the one. “Got it.”

“Good. Now get us out of here.”

A strange tingling surged through his hand. Raven frowned.

Must have pinched a nerve or something.

Ignoring it, he stuck the package under his arm, slipped around the carriage, and set off down Gullton’s main thoroughfare. He walked as casually as he could, hoping no one would notice the missing package until he was long gone.

“We clear?”

Spin’s feeler blinked red. “No. Run! They’ve seen you.”

Raven ran.

Author Bio

J. Scott Coatsworth

Scott lives with his husband Mark in a yellow bungalow in Sacramento. He was indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine. He devoured her library, but as he grew up, he wondered where all the people like him were.

He decided that if there weren’t queer characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.

A Rainbow Award winning author, he runs Queer Sci Fi, QueeRomance Ink, and Other Worlds Ink with Mark, sites that celebrate fiction reflecting queer reality, and is the committee chair for the Indie Authors Committee at the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA).

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

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

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

Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/jscoatsworth

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

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8392709.J_Scott_Coatsworth

Author Mastodon: https://mastodon.otherworldsink.com/@jscottcoatsworth

Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/

Author Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/J.-Scott-Coatsworth/e/B011AFO4OQ

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Exclusive Excerpt for “The Dragon Eater”

The Dragon Eater Excerpt – Prologue

out of nothing came everything.

She awakened, feeling the dual tug of gravity. The world pulled at her from below, and two moons exerted their force on her from above, their demands filtered through numerous layers of igneous rock.

What am I?

An explosion of memory stunned her, shaking her to her nascent mycelium where they anchored her to the hard, rocky ground. Past lives flooded her, teeming in her mind, jockeying for attention.

Angrily she stuffed them away, not ready to face them yet. There were more important things to attend to first.

Where am I?

The hard, black crust of her spore shell cracked, and she extended a blood-red pseudopod to explore her surroundings.

The world around her was cold and dark, a large space devoid of light and life. She was all alone.

Withdrawing into her shell, she folded in on herself with a shudder.

She dipped into her troubled memories, skimming the surface. They supplied the answer. One of her foremothers had come here long before, descending from the frozen void to this alien world, carrying the hope of her people with her.

A new home.

The suppressed memories — a wealth of information and wisdom — bubbled just beneath the surface of her mind.

I have a past. No … that wasn’t quite right. It’s not mine.

But where were the others? She was all alone in a cold, strange place, but most importantly she was alive.

Why am I here?

Her memories called for her attention.

She contemplated them for a moment. They represented the past — someone else’s past. Did she really want to let it guide her?

Then again, she needed knowledge if she were to survive in this strange new world. Her foremothers had clearly failed. I can learn from their mistakes.

Decided, she pried the lid off that seething cauldron. Knowledge flooded her, wiping away her ill-formed conception about who and what she was and replacing them with certainty. Memories and ideas flowed through her like a tsunami, carrying with them the stench of failure from her foremothers. There were gaps — she knew that immediately, but still the sheer volume of them was overwhelming. The tide soaked her, a broken and mangled account of what had come before.

When it passed, she began to absorb all that she had learned. At last she knew who she was.

I am the spore mother. The last of her kind, with a chance to remake the world for her people, the Aaveen.

And one thing more.

This has all happened before. She wasn’t the first of her kind in this desolate place, but she was the only survivor.

Ready to face the world at last, she burst out of her spore, her red crown expanding in the dark place just as her memories had expanded in her mind.

She had a purpose — to transform this world for her own kind. The spore mothers who had come before her — who now were her — would guide her.

And this time I will not fail.

BLOG TOUR + Exclusive Excerpt: Mary Rundle’s “Darkness Master”, Book 10 in the Blackwood Pack Series

On By authoranthonyavinablogIn Blog Tours, Book EventsLeave a comment

I am so honored to share this exclusive excerpt from author Mary Rundle’s “Darkness Master”, the 10th book in the Blackwood Pack series. I hope you will all enjoy this as part of OWI’s latest blog tour.

DARKNESS MASTER AUDIO/Mary Rundle

Hi, I’m Mary Rundle and thank you so much for hosting me as part of my audiobook blog tour for Darkness Master, Book 10 in the Blackwood Pack series and narrated by award-winning Nick J. Russo. Today I have an exclusive excerpt from the book where Fated Mates, Alex, Sawyer, and Glenn, eventually find each other along with their HEA in a story full of startling twists, turns, and adventures. Please enjoy! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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“You know, I never expected to find my mate, even after my brother found his. Mainly because I don’t have anything to offer a mate. My twin got all the brains, Robin got all the talent, Hunter is a born leader, Mason is a genius when it comes to numbers…so you see, all I have is my…my…”

“Your ability to learn quickly?” murmured Alex.

“Pfff…right, my ability to learn quickly, which, if yesterday was any indication, it’s not something I can count on anymore.”

“Are you giving up already?” asked Alex.

“Honestly? I’m not sure and that’s a feeling I’m not used to. If you ask my brothers, they’ll say I’m easygoing…and they’re right…to a point. Hunter told me I was asleep when I was born. He said I looked like I didn’t have a care in the world.”

“But that’s not true, is it?” Alex asked.

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Pausing for a moment, Sawyer replied, “What do you mean?”

Alex’s fear kicked in again. Challenging an alpha wasn’t a good thing, something he learned early on. Calling on his fox’s hearing, he listened for any indication Sawyer was getting ready to attack him for his insolence. When all he heard was his mate’s even breathing, he let out the breath he was holding. But now he was once again unsure how to go on. Shifting from foot to foot, he weighed the options: whether to answer honestly or be polite and make up a harmless lie that would placate Sawyer.

The lack of response from Alex was unsettling, making Sawyer lean his forehead against the door. He was surprised at his mate’s question, wondering how he already knew so much about him; only Mac knew his easygoing attitude was hiding his insecurity. All through his youth, he was always the forgotten one. With nothing making him unique, he was stuck in the middle between Mac and Robin, both of whom outshone him. Oh, he knew his parents loved him, but they didn’t fuss over him like they did when Robin wrote another song, or Mac aced all of his tests. Once again he found himself lacking, but this time, the pain pierced his heart when he realized Alex’s decision to reject him was because his mate had figured out who he really was. 

Tears formed in his eyes as Sawyer ran his hands over the door. There would be no mate for him…no one who believed in him…no one who would find something worthy in him and, more importantly, no happily-ever-after Quin believed in so strongly. The Fates fucked up and now he was left to pick up the pieces and move on. Snorting softly at that idea, Sawyer knew it would take a long time to get over this rejection, if ever, because he wasn’t going to get another chance. No, that much he knew…there was only one fated mate.

Brushing aside his tears, Sawyer stood up, trying to get himself under control. Glancing up through the tree leaves surrounding the campsite, he let out a sob, cursing the soul-destroying pain in his chest. Losing a mate he never expected to have shouldn’t hurt so much, but it did and he wondered how he’d survive it. Alone, far from the family he needed right now, but that, too, he’d fucked up on. The irony wasn’t lost on him. He knew his sorrow would cause his twin to feel concern. Mac! I need Mac! But his brother was busy with his own life, while Sawyer had been cast adrift, left behind…someone who had nothing to offer his mate. And the worse part was he had no one to blame but himself. Shaking his head, Sawyer stepped away from the trailer, stopping briefly only when his wolf howled for his mate. Then he slowly walked away from the campsite, heading for his motorhome. 

Lifting his hand to cover his mouth when he heard Sawyer’s cry, Alex knew his silence had caused his mate’s pain. Sorrow coursed through him, and tears began to fall at the hurt he had inflicted. It wasn’t who he was—and yet, it was—all because he’d allowed his fear to get the better of him. The snap of a twig alerted Alex that his mate was now further away from the trailer. Turning around, he moved the curtain slightly, peeking outside to find where Sawyer was, only to see the back of his mate heading toward the woods. Grabbing his chest as the deep pain of his mate leaving nearly cleaved his heart in two, he fell to his knees, making his fox keen for the loss. He couldn’t let it happen. Why, he didn’t know, but somehow, he knew letting Sawyer go would be the worst decision of his life. He rose, then taking a deep breath, he opened the door. Stepping outside, he called out, “Alex…my name is Alex Fouché.”

Bookbaby.com helps independent authors bring their creative vision to the marketplace. Sell eBooks online in the biggest retail stores. Darkness Master audio - Mary Rundle

Mary Rundle has a new MM parnormal audio romance out: Darkness Master.

This is part of a continuing series by Amazon International Bestselling Author, Mary Rundle – reading the previous titles is advised. Readers will enjoy catching up with members of the Blackwood Pack and reading about what is happening to them as the pack does what it does best ̶ caring for one another and helping shifters everywhere.

Pursuing his dream, Sawyer heads to LA for some sun, waves and surfing lessons. After a disappointing day of surfing, he heads back to his campsite and meets Alex, his Fated Mate, who runs away, valuing his freedom more than anything else.

After the death of his wealthy, domineering father, Alex is can finally shed a lifetime of restrictions. Leaving New York City, he sets out on a long, cross-country RV trip, unaware that an overnight stop in a Los Angeles campground will yield not one Fated Mate, but two! Shocked at meeting Sawyer, Alex rejects him, vowing never to be under the thumb of any Alpha mate.

Glenn, a career secret agent, is also in LA to seek help from his friend, Ghost, a surfing instructor, in his quest to find who is responsible for kidnapping Glenn’s mother and other rare shifters. After meeting up with Ghost, Glenn discovers his Fated Mate is Sawyer, his friend’s current surfing student.

After the three mates finally meet, each has to face up to some hard facts about their past and present lives before coming to an understanding that leads them to find love and happiness with each other.

Astounding surprises, rare and unique gifts, an action-packed mission, and many unexpected twists and turns make this passionate love story by Mary Rundle impossible to put down once you’ve read the first page.

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Giveaway

Mary is giving away a $50 Amazon gift card with this tour:

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Excerpt

Darkness Master

Sawyer studied his mate, wondering why Alex kept bringing it up until it suddenly dawned on him. “Hey…if you’re worried about not being a wolf, trust me, it won’t matter to any of my brothers…just like no one cared that Hunter’s mate is a dragon.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “A dragon? Really?”

“Yup…so you see…it won’t be a problem,” Sawyer said, setting his fork down. “So you’re a fellow New Yorker. How did you end up in California?”

Shrugging, Alex studied his empty plate. “I wanted to see what was beyond the place I grew up in.”

“Hey, I get that…it’s why I decided to look at the bright side when my brother said we were going to visit our cousins.”

Looking up sharply, Alex asked, “You haven’t gone anywhere either?”

“Nope…well, I did live in California when I was very young, but my father moved us back east when he took over our pack from his father…so I really don’t remember much from that time.”

“And you haven’t traveled since then?” asked Alex.

“Uh-uh. I didn’t go to college like some of my brothers and my father never brought me along when he traveled for pack business…so, nope, the trip out here was pretty much my first time anywhere.”

“Do you like it? You know…traveling?” asked Alex.

“Not the way Hunter did it. We drove straight through, and it was boring as shit…even though I tried to get him to stop along the way to see some of the touristy stuff.”

“Oh, I did that!”

“Oh yeah? Which was your favorite? Oh wait, I bet it was the giant ball of twine!” Sawyer exclaimed.

“What? No! Is there really such a thing?” asked Alex. Then, throwing his paper napkin at Sawyer while shaking his head, he said, “You’re full of bullshit.”

“Me? Never!” Sawyer exclaimed. “It’s in Cawker City, Kansas. Here…I’ll show you.” Opening his browser on his phone, he searched for it, then finding the site, Sawyer handed the phone over to his mate.

Quickly scanning the web site, Alex looked up and grinned. “That’s freaking amazing! And in August, there is a ‘Twine-a-thon’ where more twine is added to the ball.”

“Told ya.” Smirking, Sawyer took his phone back. “So, you missed that on your trip out here…so what did you see?”

Laughing, Alex said, “I was too busy stopping at national parks like the Grand Canyon. I spent almost a month there…it was just amazing. It’s so different when you are standing there in person, looking down and seeing millions of years of geological history, instead of looking at a photograph. I did all of the touristy stuff and then there were days, I just sat on the edge and stared at it, trying to commit it to memory. It truly is breathtaking.”

“I take it that’s your favorite place?” Sawyer asked.

“So far, it is…but then I haven’t seen the Redwoods yet,” grinned Alex.

“Me neither, even though they aren’t that far from my cousins’ place,” Sawyer said, gathering up their dishes. “What are your plans for today?”

Frowning slightly, Alex considered his mate’s question. What he was going to do was head to see the Pacific Ocean because he wanted to see if it was different from the Atlantic Ocean. When he left New York, he arrived in Cape May just in time to find himself on the outskirts of a tropical storm. Sitting on the beach, watching the wild waves crash ashore, Alex was mesmerized by the wind while watching the low hanging, heavy, gray clouds move across the sky. It spoke to his soul like nothing else ever had. The next day, after the storm had passed, he went back, but this time sat in the water among the steel-gray waves as they tumbled ashore. He’d never experienced anything like it, and he ended up staying a week at the Jersey Shore, spending hours a day at the beach.

“Hey…hello, are you there?” asked Sawyer. “What’s on for today?”

Shaking his head slightly to clear the memories from his mind, Alex replied, “Today is a relaxation day. Since I spent the last two days driving, I planned on spending the day at the beach.”

“Sounds great…let me put this inside. Do you want me to drive, or would you rather do it?”

Grateful his mate had given him a choice, Alex said, “If you don’t mind, I’ll drive.”

“Not at all. Gimme a few minutes to change, okay?”

Waving his hand at the motorhome, Alex replied, “Go ahead…I’ll be right here.”

Giving his mate one of his trademark grins, Sawyer stood before grabbing the dishes and turning to head for his motorhome.

Alex stared at Sawyer’s ass, admiring the flexing muscles as his mate opened the door and climbed the stairs. Blocked from seeing anything more when the door closed, a low moan escaped from his throat as he tried to reign in his lust. It was something he’d never felt before. Wondering if the feeling had something to do with being fated mates, Alex cursed himself again for not paying more attention to his classmates’ whisperings after the lights went out. But in all fairness, he never expected to have a mate…especially because he was so odd. His mind flitted back to Sawyer, wondering if his mate knew what he was…and if he didn’t…should I tell him? And what happens when I do…will he reject me then? So maybe I should tell him right away so if he doesn’t want me, I can just leave and go to Palm Springs like I planned to.

NO! The rarely heard voice was so loud, Alex covered his ears as fire roared through his veins, removing any doubt about what to do. Glancing up at the motorhome door, he was surprised to find it still closed since he was certain Sawyer would have heard the voice. But when the door remained shut, Alex was relieved that his explanation could wait. Sighing, he knew it really didn’t matter when his mate found out because the results would be the same. No one ever wanted him…not even his father…and it would be the same with Sawyer. Imagining the disgust on his mate’s face when the truth came out, Alex never heard the door open.

Author Bio

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A few years ago, I wrote my first book, Dire Warning. Readers loved it and I was on my way to chronicle the Blackwood Pack, seven brothers who are gay wolf shifters in search of their fated mates—stories about love at first sight with twists and turns, angst and humor, romance and adventure and, of course, happy endings. Since then, the pack has expanded, allowing more stories to be told and different paranormals to be included. The series has become, as one reader described it…an “Epic Saga.”

Now, eleven books later, Blood Prophecy, has just been published. I love the M/M paranormal genre because it gives my imagination a lot of territory in which to roam. My mind can really run wild and come up with some amazing stuff when it doesn’t have to stay inside the box. My story ideas come to me as if they were being channeled by my characters, all of whom I love (except for a few villains). They are eager to recount their lives, loves and adventures, and are not reluctant to let it all out when it comes to revealing steamy details. My writing style is free-wheeling and uninhibited and my readers tell me they love it that way; that it makes them feel like they’re right in on the action and a member of the Blackwood Pack.

I live in the Northeast and love the beautiful change of seasons, my husband, and our quirky calico cat, though not necessarily in that order. I read a lot (good for the mind) and love gardening (good for the soul). And I’m always happy to hear from my readers and can be reached through Facebook, my private Facebook Group, Twitter, Instagram, or my website.

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