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This month, I have Together as part of the freebie giveaway if you sign up for QueeRomance Ink’s Newsletter. These stories are more towards romance with MM characters and Gay literature.
Together is the first story I wrote and published with Amazon and was part of a people of color charity anthology back in 2017-2018 originally called Beautiful Skin. I was proud to be a part of it because stories about people of color, or written by people of color, are beautiful and make the work richer. The anthology is out of print now, but the story is still available. A couple of years later, I wrote a flash fiction ficlit, an epilogue of sorts, as part of a blog tour I did August 2020. Thank you again to Sharita for the idea so many years ago. You will need to read Together in order to enjoy the vignette below.
While re-reading it for this post, I did a little more editing on it so it would flow a bit better. This is version two of the teaser that hasn’t been published before. -wink- Eventually, I will re-release Together with the epilogue. Perhaps I can get my act together this year. 🙂
~Eloreen
Saturday Night Date Night
It was Saturday morning and my turn to pick what we were going to do for our date night tonight. I thought making plans for two people for semi-regular dates was nail-biting. Try planning a date for three people regularly. We all have such different tastes and personalities that it can be a challenge. Luckily, we took turns choosing. If I had to do this every time, I’d go crazy and probably flail.
“Whatcha doing?” Enrique Cruz, my little writer said faintly but rapidly getting closer, startling me slightly. I quickly closed out of the browser I was looking at so he wouldn’t find out my plans and ruin the surprise. I had set things up to do this thing a few weeks ago with my best friend and business partner, Angela Carter, since I was neck deep on some major software updates that we’d rolled out for our mobile game we had first released a couple years ago. This Saturday night date night was special and too important to not have help. It was the one-year anniversary of myself, Enrique, and our other partner, Miguel Armenta, finally getting together as committed partners to each other. If the three of us could legally marry, I would have popped the question a while ago.
When he got close enough, I turned around in my chair and quickly pulled him into my arms and lap for a quick peck on the lips as a distraction. Except, it wasn’t quick. At all. He deepened it and claimed my mouth like it was going to disappear. Silly man. I wasn’t going anywhere.
Someone moaned. Might have been me. Then I felt another set of hands sliding down my naked chest as I had just gotten up from our bed earlier and didn’t bother to put a shirt on to finish the plans.
I gasped a mumbled explicative as my senses fired up when Miguel’s hands found my nipples and started rubbing them just like I like them. Something was nagging at me though. Something important.
Suddenly, I wrenched my now swollen lips away from En’s assault and placed my hands on El’s to stop his movement. I panted a little while I waited for my brain cells to get online and thing again. Fuck, we didn’t have time for round two.
“Stop.”
They tensed, stilling instantly.
“Sorry, nothing’s wrong, loves.” I kissed En first to reassure and then turned my chair, vaguely noticing that at some point the screensaver had kicked in and my chair was sideways. Someone must have moved me to get to me, the little minx.
“Mornin’,” I gave El a kiss on his impish lips to reassure him as well. They both relaxed and then I had a double lap full of my men. Good thing I had splurged for a high-weight computer chair.
“I’m sorry, my dears,” I started after they settled. “While I would love to go back to bed, we need to get ready for tonight’s date.”
Miguel glanced at the clock on the screensaver. “It’s only 11 am.” He turned back to me, confusion in his blue eyes. Then they cleared and narrowed. “What did you plan?” He stood up to get a better look at my facial expressions.
I was so close. I really couldn’t hide anything from El. Both of them really, but especially El with his sharp litigator mind. It’s why I had Angela make the arrangements in the first place. I was about to see the details of said plan when En came into the room.
“Nothing,” I said innocently. Not really, and it wasn’t working for either of them if their disbelieving expression where anything to go by.
“Uh, huh,” En said flatly, and stood up too. Yeah, that didn’t work either. En was a sharp observer too. They put their crossed arms on their equally naked chests nearly at the same time. That was hot.
I broke down. “Ok, there is something going on with tonight’s date night, but I actually don’t know what the details are yet.” I looked at them sheepishly. Out of habit when I got embarrassed about something, I looked down pulling my dreads forward and tried to hide behind them.
“Look at me,” El said with love and reassurance in his voice. I felt his hand gently lift my chin so I would look at him. When our eyes met, he continued. “I love you. You know we will love anything you have planned for us.”
“Yes, but I wanted it to be a surprise,” I sighed. “It’s why I had Ang make all the arrangements with my contingencies in case there was something on my initial list that wouldn’t work.” I had several options and back up plans to keep this particular date a surprise that I had to keep myself in the dark too.
En interjected, “You are fine, honey. I love you, too.” He put his hand on my neck and his forehead to mine. I closed my eyes content as they both returned to my arms and lap.
Speaking of lap, we needed to get moving if we were going to get started on this afternoon’s activities. “Let me up,” I said as I gently pushed them to their feet.
“There’s stuff starting in an hour or two and we are ending at The Melting Pot downtown.” I said the last thing absently missing the expressions on my men’s understanding faces as I went back to the computer.
“Fuck me, he’s proposing,” En blurted out at the same time El sucked in a breath shocked.
I paused from logging in. Damn, they really did know me well.
Moonbeams over Atlanta welcomes AG Meiers. She has a new gay romantic suspense in her Jake’s Bar series Book 4: Down the Line.
Revenge is a Dangerous Obsession.
Dean Hunt needs the story of a lifetime—Since his uncompromising attitude got him fired, the investigative journalist is hell-bent to expose the powerful and corrupt Conway family. It’s a career move, and absolutely not a vendetta against the oldest son Noel, who ghosted Dean after a mind-blowing weekend together.
Noel Conway needs a new start—After years away, Noel has come home to rebuild the bridges he’s burned. Too bad his past caused a ripple effect he can’t outrun. Now, he’s asked to save his family from the one man he never expected to see again but can’t forget.
Dean is chasing front-page news, and Noel is trying to protect the ones he loves. But the line between enemies and lovers gets blurred when a dangerous criminal from Noel’s past resurfaces. Will the truth shatter their tentative trust? Or do they have a shot at happily ever after?
But none of that matters when suddenly Noel disappears…
Down the Line, the final book in the award-winning Jake’s Bar series, is a spicy, M/M romantic suspense featuring a rainbow-colored bar full of quirky characters, and all the romance you can handle. So, download today, and get ready to fall in love with Jake’s Bar.
Warnings: smoking cigarettes and weed in the hot tub, kidnapping (on page scenes restrained), verbally abusive father
The award-winning Jake’s Bar series is a set of steamy, M/M romantic suspense novels, featuring a rainbow- colored bar full of quirky characters, and all the romance you can handle.
Giveaway
AG is giving away a $10 Amazon gift card with this tour: a Rafflecopter giveaway
a Rafflecopter giveawayDirect Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47310/?
Excerpt
As Dean reached the top of the staircase, a man stepped out of the shadows in front of his door. Dean straightened his shoulders. “Detective Conway.”
“Hunt.”
In a parallel universe, they might have been friends. They were fighting the same fight. Had the same enemies. In this world, they weren’t brothers in arms. In this world, Dean had been cast as the villain.
“How can I help you this fine morning?”
“Open the door. We gotta talk.”
“Look, it’s been a long night—”
“Just open the damn door.” Conway snarled, pushing into Dean’s personal space.
Dean stood his ground. “Are you here in an official capacity? Because then, the answer is no, I won’t let you in. You have no warrant, no permission to search my property. I don’t consent—”
“Just shut the fuck up. None of us wants this shitshow to be on the record,” Con growled.
Dean, curious, took a step back and raised his empty hand, palm up. “Okay.”
He fished for his key, pushed open the door, and quickly disarmed his alarm system. Conway didn’t wait to be invited in, just crossed the living room, dropped his shearling coat onto the sofa, then walked over to the large window overlooking the river.
The view was the only redeeming feature of Dean’s otherwise-generic apartment. The mess didn’t help. There were dirty dishes piled up in the sink, a pizza box on the breakfast counter separating the cramped kitchen from the living room, and an unmade bed in the other corner of the room.
“For a guy who anxiously waited at my doorstep, you’re awfully quiet.” Dean smirked. “Coffee?”
“No.” Conway turned his back, now studying the row of framed newspaper front pages Dean had hung on the apartment’s interior wall. His personal collection of historic headlines—headlines that changed the world.
The oldest was from July 6, 1776. The Pennsylvania Evening Post, printing the Declaration of Independence on its front page. Next to it, the Daily Telegram, declaring the end of the Second World War. The two most recent, the New York Times’ “OBAMA: Racial barrier falls in heavy turnout” and, of course, the front page the day after 9/11.
Dean had added a few more personal favorites, like Moneta J. Sleet’s photography of Coretta Scott King at MLK’s funeral. The first Black man to win the Pulitzer for journalism.
Conway took his time examining each framed newspaper. Dean already regretted allowing the intrusion into his space. He felt exposed—vulnerable—under silent scrutiny.
Irritated, he started banging around the kitchen. He was in no mood to explain that looking at those headlines every day fueled his ambitions and inspired his dreams. Dean believed with every fiber of his being in the power of a free and independent press.
He turned on the coffee machine and leaned against the counter. As if Conway felt Dean’s angry glare across the room, he finally turned and stared right back. For a moment, they engaged in a silent standoff.
Unease flittered through Dean. Camille had been right. Her brother was seething with anger. And Dean had no fucking idea what he’d done to piss him off. He sighed and shook his head, then took two mugs out of the cabinet and put them onto the island. “Miguel, have a damn coffee. You look like you need it.”
“Says the man who clearly slept in his party clothes and crept home at sunup.”
“Guilty as charged.” Dean shrugged.
Conway curled his lip. “I do not know what my sister sees in you.”
It wasn’t a question, so Dean didn’t bother with an answer. “You wanted to talk? So, talk.”
Instead of talking, though, Conway pulled out a stack of papers. Pushing aside the coffee cups to make room, he spread them out over the counter.
Dean froze. The first blurry photograph featured Dean in another man’s arms. In the next, the same man was pressing Dean against a white porch railing, his own hands tangled in the man’s messy curls. Conway fanned the stack, revealing nearly a dozen more.
Dean and Noel Conway, kissing.
Suddenly, he was there again, the ocean breeze tugging on his clothes. Noel’s warm skin, tasting like sunshine and a hint of salt, his eyes blown with desire. Goddamn, so fucking beautiful, with that shy smile, whispered promises—
Dean’s throat was desert dry. His ragged breath and the hissing of the coffee machine came together like a fucking symphony. “I—”
“Save it. My sister thinks you’re this hotshot journalist. Full of passion. Braving adversity. Motivated by a noble cause. Yeah, fuck that. You’re after my family because Noel pounded your ass, then dropped you like he does everybody else. Your pride—your precious ego—is hurt because you’re just another notch in my brother’s carved-up bedpost.”
Conway grabbed his jacket and walked to the door. He turned and added, “Watch it, Hunt. You got no job. No friends. No prospects. But if you think you’ve reached rock bottom, think again.”
Dean contained himself until he heard his door close with a soft click. Only then did he allow himself to swipe papers, cups, and the fucking photos off his counter. The cups shattered on the tile floor.
Author Bio
Eighteen years ago, AG Meiers came to the US for adventure and stayed for love. Currently, she lives in New England with her husband and two awesome kids—balancing work, friends and family, and writing.
When she has some free time, her favorite thing to do is travel and visit new places. Her past trips have already brought her to a variety of countries on four continents. She never passes up an opportunity to experience different cultures, diverse people and amazing locations.
Even though she has been dreaming up stories all her life, she has only recently started to write them down and share them with the world. As a writer she loves to put her characters through a lot of challenges, conflict and heartbreak, before she allows them to find their happy-ever-after.
Website | Facebook (Personal) | Instagram | Amazon
Moonbeams over Atlanta welcomes R.L. Merrill today. She has a new contemporary MM romance out, in her Forces of Nature series, Book 3: Earthquake Ethan.
The Earth shook the morning actor Ethan Bradley arrived in Los Angeles looking for a second chance. He hoped his former producers Reese Matheson and Toby Griffiths meant it when they said to look them up if he were ever in LA because he had no other options. The pictures the paparazzi took at the wrap party for their London show made sure of that. What he wasn’t counting on was the reception he got from their manager, Arthur Frye. He was absolutely the kind of together guy Ethan wished would notice him, and for more than his pretty face and talent. Too bad Arthur only sees Ethan as a complication.
Arthur Frye has his hands full with his best clients—and best friends. The last thing he needs is another diva to care for, especially one who has a reputation for causing trouble. He has a strict rule against getting involved with the talent, no matter how pretty they are. Only Ethan Bradley shines for real, and when Arthur realizes his nice-guy innocence is genuine, he’s ready to do anything to help Ethan get his career back on track and get him out of LA. He’s too much of a temptation, and Arthur can’t afford to lose focus…not even for a chance at happiness for himself. Especially not when his star clients are about to risk their professional and personal happiness with their newest creation; a musical about two boys falling in love in the 1960s featuring music written by Reese’s grandfather, whose health is in decline.
Ethan Bradley shakes things up wherever he goes, and Arthur Frye is afraid he’ll be left in the wreckage if he gets too close. Can these two opposites find love on solid ground?
Warnings: implied sexual abuse off page
About the Series
Forces of Nature follows a group of talented men who are natural disasters, and the men who love them.
The morning after Ethan Bradley landed at LAX the earth shook. Literally. Being from Iowa, he’d always been afraid of earthquakes. He remembered watching footage when he was a little boy of the one that hit Northridge and it stayed with him. He’d even turned down a part in the film San Andreas because he was terrified of the real thing.
Plus—at the time—he’d wanted to be considered a serious actor, and accepting a role in a Hollywood disaster blockbuster didn’t fit in with his professional goals. Instead, he’d ended up going to London to film a clever romantic comedy. Then came the stage and more accolades at the age of twenty-six than he’d imagined possible.
When his hotel room rattled his first morning in LA and sent him diving under the desk in the early hours, he’d wished he’d stayed.
But London had nothing to offer him after the paparazzi ruined his life, and he couldn’t go home. So there he was, back in the states, and ready to grovel before his former producer—and crush—for a role, any role, that would allow him to get back to doing what he loved…acting, singing, performing.
Love was a strong word. It was what he knew, what he was good at, where his God-given talents lay.
He’d come to LA with a plan. Sort of. Go see Reese Matheson. Pray he opened the door and took pity on him. And that he didn’t hold a grudge.
He plugged the Malibu address he’d gotten from his London manager’s office into the Lyft app and went outside to wait for his ride. And prayed.
If Reese wouldn’t see him, he had a plan B.
He’d go to see Reese’s business partner Toby Griffiths. Which was probably a terrible idea, but the best he had.
Because there was no plan C.
He had exactly fifty dollars cash on him and a credit card dangerously close to being maxed out. Rock bottom was flying up to meet him fast.
The Lyft driver dropped him off at the end of a long driveway leading to a quaint little house that backed up to the Malibu shoreline. He knew nine o’clock on a Sunday morning was early, but the earthquake had shaken him so much, he couldn’t wait to get out of his room at the Holiday Inn. He’d been to LA before to promote his films, but he’d never felt comfortable among the glitz and glamour of Hollywood and Beverly Hills.
Malibu had the scenery people thought of when they imagined Southern California. Palm trees, mountains that broke off into the sea, miles of sand with beautiful people jogging along the water’s edge. It was picturesque, and sometimes cliché. For Ethan, it represented his last hope.
He climbed the steps, cleared his throat, reached for that enthusiastic confidence that used to come so easy for him once upon a time—
The door opened before he even had a chance to knock.
The short Filipino man standing there in a pair of scrubs had one eyebrow raised and a hand on his hip.
“Can I help you?”
His tone didn’t come across as helpful, despite his words.
“Yeah, sorry. I’m looking for Reese Matheson? My name is—“
“I know who you are.” The man’s raised eyebrow turned into a frown. “Just a minute,” he said before closing the door with a little less force than a slam.
Breathe. It’s fine. Reese is a good guy. He won’t be angry that I showed up. He’s a generous, kind person—
R.L. is giving away a $25 Amazon gift card with this tour: a Rafflecopter giveaway
a Rafflecopter giveawayDirect Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47309/?
Author Bio
R.L. Merrill brings you stories of Hope, Love, and Rock ‘n’ Roll featuring quirky and relatable characters. Whether she’s writing about contemporary issues that affect us all or diving deep into the paranormal and supernatural to give readers a shiver, she loves creating compelling stories that will stay with readers long after.
Winner of the Kathryn Hayes “When Sparks Fly” Best Contemporary award for Hurricane Reese, Foreword INDIES finalist for Summer of Hush and RONE finalist for Typhoon Toby, Ro spends every spare moment improving her writing craft and striving to find that perfect balance between real-life and happily ever after.
She writes diverse and inclusive romance, contributes paranormal hilarity to Robyn Peterman’s Magic and Mayhem Universe, and works on various other writing and mentoring projects that tickle her fancy or benefit a worthy cause. You can find her connecting with readers on social media, educating America’s youth, raising two brilliant teenagers, trying desperately to get that back piece finished in the tattoo chair, or headbanging at a rock show near her home in the San Francisco Bay Area! Stay Tuned for more Rock ‘n’ Romance.
Website | Facebook (Personal) | Facebook (Author Page) | Instagram | Goodreads | QueeRomance Ink | Amazon
J. Scott Coatsworth has a new queer sci-fantasy book out, Tales from Tharassas book 3: The Hencha Queen.
“A richly painted world that is both beautiful and sinister, evoking landscapes that are as much science fiction as Tolkiensian fantasy. 5 stars.” –Ulysses, Paranormal Romance Guild
SILYA COMES INTO HER OWN, BUT WILL SHE BE ENOUGH?
Silya finally has everything she always wanted. She’s the Hencha Queen, head of the Temple, and is working to master her newfound talents. So why does the world pick now to fall apart?
Her once-nemesis Raven is off riding dragons, and their mutual friend (and her ex) Aik is nowhere to be found. Meanwhile, a new threat menaces the Heartland from the East, and if she can’t convince a reluctant Gullton city council to prepare for the worst, she may lose everyone and everything she’s ever cared about.
As she uses her magic-like abilities, wit and sheer determination to try to save the city, she’s joined by Raven and his new friends. Will their help tip the scales? And will they finally find out what happened to Aik as a dark storm threatens to sweep them all away?
Forget messy. Things just got apocalyptic.
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.
Books 1 & 2 are on sale through March 31st for just 99¢ each (eBooks, all vendors). And if you buy one (or all three) of the main series books, email scott@jscottcoatsworth.com and let him know and he’ll send you a free copy of Tales From Tharassas, the prequel.
Giveaway
Scott is giving away an eBook copy of Tales from Tharassas, the prequel, to everyone who enters the sweepstakes: a Rafflecopter giveaway
a Rafflecopter giveawayDirect Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47308/?
Excerpt
A sharp crack filled the wine cellar. Kerrick swung the heavy mallet back and then assailed the flopwood boards that blocked the tunnel entrance again. The ancient wood splintered under the blow, sending shards clattering across the stone-paved floor.
It felt good to work out his frustrations. Still, the stubborn wood held out against his assault.
He rested the mallet on the black-tiled stone floor, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. Even after a hundred years, the barrier was strong. He’d tried to pry the boards out of the solid stone, but they’d been fastened in too tightly. Brute force it is.
“You’re doing great!” Cor’Lea’s voice was artificially bright, and she was as tall as he was, maybe a little taller, peering over his shoulder at the sealed tunnel entrance.
Silya had tasked her with bringing him down here to check out these hidden caverns under the Temple, in preparation for the coming war. Important, sure, but also clearly an excuse to get him out from underfoot while she prepared for her official Raising.
He grunted. “Thanks. These boards are hard as iron.” And hard as Silya’s will.
One day things would be different between them, once this crisis was over. I just have to be patient.
Coral laughed. “I’m sure a big, strong man like you can break through them easily.” She squeezed his bicep appreciatively.
He shrugged her off. He wasn’t sure if the gawky initiate was flirting with him or just trying to encourage him to get on with it, but either way, he wasn’t interested. “Stand back.” He hefted the hammer again, and she scurried out of his way.
He suppressed a smile, swinging the mallet around for another heavy blow.
Craack.
This time the board buckled inward visibly. Another few hits should do it.
He pulled back the heavy iron hammer again and hit the same spot with blow after blow. Craack. Craack. Craack.
The mallet broke through and a board fell away into splinters, clattering across the stone floor. One down, three more to go. “Why did they seal this cavern up?”
Cor’Lea gestured at the natural chamber. “There was a winery here before the Temple. Sister Dor said they used to use it for extra wine storage.” She looked around the natural chamber, which was now filled with wooden shelving holding a variety of bottled food stores. “When Jas ordered the Temple to be constructed, they kept this wide cavern and blocked off the rest of the tunnels.”
“Just in case the gully rats got in?” That thief Raven had apparently made his home in one of the underground tunnels. Who knew who else—or what else—lived down there?
Cor’Lea snorted. “Maybe.”
Are tunnels all connected, somehow? That was one of Silya’s most urgent projects, to map out the network of caverns beneath the city. Another reason she sent me down here—to get me out from under her robes.
A few more whacks at the next board served to both break it and let out his frustrations at the situation preventing him from doing his sworn job and keeping them apart. And at what she said was coming.
Craack. Craack. Craack.
The board snapped in half, and he judged that he’d cleared enough space to step through into the blocked-off tunnel. “Hand me that lantern?
Cor’Lea complied, taking the opportunity to brush his hand.
He rolled his eyes. I should be flattered. But his heart was already taken.
It was times like these he wished his brother Enrick were still alive. He’d know what to do. He’d been absurdly confident about everything, even though he’d been younger than Kerrick.
Kerrick wasn’t great with women.
He took the lantern and stepped over the bottom board, holding it in front of him. The bright light temporarily blinded him as he sought to get his bearings.
“What do you see?” Cor’Lea peered through the hole behind him.
His sight adjusted, and the tunnel’s walls came into focus.
He whistled. Stacked along the side of the tunnel were hundreds of crates, all strapped together in groups and sealed. “It’s… I don’t know what it is. But I’ll bet Silya will be surprised.” They’d have to find a place to put all this stuff—whatever it was, it was likely rotten after all this time. Silya needed somewhere to store people, not ancient goods.
Cor’Lea stepped carefully over the splintered boards to join him. “What do you think’s inside them?”
The long row of crates disappeared into the darkness. Who knew what the ancients had considered valuable enough to stash down here. Coin? Lost treasure? “One way to find out. Does the Temple have a crowbar?”
Author Bio
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, Liminal Fiction, 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).
Website | Facebook (Personal) | Facebook (Author Page) | Mastodon | Instagram | Goodreads | Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com) | QueeRomance Ink | Amazon
I looked up and it’s suddenly it’s March. I had signed up to be one of four authors to provide a free book as a four-pack when you sign up for Queer Sci Fi’s Newsletter. Great place to find wonderful queer spectrum books and stories. Check it out!
This is the first story I wrote and published way back in the Goodreads.com MM Romance Group days 10 years ago (this month actually) where authors would get prompt suggestions and you would pick the prompt you like and write a story to be published there later on. It was fun and I did it the following year year but life got in the way.
If you are a reader of my blog, you’ll know that I will eventually edit this story, possibly put a new cover on it, and rerelease it. Perhaps I’ll do that this month as an anniversary of publishing for the first time. If you do join the newsletter, read my book, and want to know more, have suggestions, or like it, let me know. I’m open to suggestions for revamping it. Perhaps even a sequel. You can stalk, I mean, follow me on social media, or email me eloreen at eloreenmoon dot com for any feedback. If I like any suggestions for updating and/or a sequel, perhaps I’ll include it and send you a free copy of the book in question when complete. -smile-
~Eloreen
Moonbeams over Atlanta welcomes Eliot Grayson to the blog. Welcome to the first post on the new site. 🙂 Eliot is a new author to me but was intrigued by the burb she sent to me in Instagram direct message and wanted to read it.
Note: A reader copy was provided for an honest review. The book released on Amazon December 7th, 2023.
The Blurb:
Dawn mage. Twilight mage. Cursed, useless, damaged, dangerous…
His birth magic leaves Prince Nikola with nothing but bad choices: live as another man’s possession, subject to his whims and his desires, or remain dependent on a potion that stunts his powers and prevents him from knowing love.
Andreas vows to protect the prince with his life—whether Nikola wants him to or not. After all, the queen pays his soldier’s wage. Nikola’s nothing but a job to do.
But when they find themselves stranded, with Nikola’s potion running out, Andreas has to…improvise. Because what Prince Nikola needs to survive is the opposite of a lowly guard’s respectful protection.
It should’ve been only one night. Just until the potion’s refilled. But now that Nikola’s had Andreas’s touch, he craves Andreas again and again. He shouldn’t. But he—and his magic—can’t live without it…
The Royal Curse is a high-heat MM fantasy romance with a stubborn prince, an even more stubborn soldier, and cursed magic that can’t be denied. There is an on-page attempted sexual assault that is not between the main characters. HEA guaranteed.
The Review:
I read this a few months ago, in one sitting no less; but, work, holidays, and moving my blog to be self hosting delayed this review. I realized as I was writing this post that it’s been a few years since my last review on my blog. I had said in an earlier post I wanted to review more this year. Well, now I have posted the first review of the year. 🙂 Hopefully, the first of many.
It is a start of a new series about Twilight mages and I have to say that Eliot knocked it out of the park with this first installment. We have Prince Nikola who suppresses his magic with a potion that needs to be carefully made, a trip that has some action-packed scenes highlighting that Nikola is not just a pretty, royal face, and Andreas, who started out as a bodyguard but the seeds of romance were in place long before these events. The writing is a cross between Victorian and medieval English in wording and cadence, and just a delight to read. It is definitely high-heat and wonderfully written with the requisite happily-ever-after ending.
It’s a fun story with some darker elements, a betrayal, and the romance gives you all the feels. In it, you can see the hints of who will be one of the main characters in a later book. Whether it’s the next book, or not, remains to be seen. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and I can’t wait for the next installment.
With this, I give The Royal Curse 5 stars.
Eloreen Moon
Book Links:
About the Author:
Eliot’s a lifelong Southern California girl, right down to the flip-flops and backyard garden. When she’s not writing her next book, you can find her reading, drinking tea, or (more likely) catering to the demands of her kids and ancient, cranky cat.
Steamy books with delicious tension, heart-wrenching pining, and a hefty dose of action and adventure have always been her jam as a reader. Guess what she writes?
You can catch up with her on Facebook in her reader group, Eliot Grayson’s Escape from Reality, or sign up for her newsletter at eliotgrayson.com.
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Greetings and Salutations! Welcome to 2024 readers!
After a few hiccups, I’ve migrated my site from WordPress to self hosting. I intended to post this mid-January, but work was plenty busy and the #DreamHost pro services migration team had to help me figure out a few things. This transfer has been a long time coming. I’ve had the domain for awhile but never got the time to get it moved over from my first blog site at eloreenmoon.wordpress.com. Now that everything is in order (mostly), I’m going to delete that site in the coming weeks.
Plans? I have no plans… Well, actually, I do. I plan to restart blogging, get back into writing and publishing stories, and perhaps self publish here on the site. There are several of my older stories I would like to revamp and republish. A few that I started, but didn’t finish. A few that I got 80% there and then life got in the way. You should see my folders for the various stories I started. I have at least 15-20. *smile*
Since my original newsletter account was killed because of inactivity, I’m going to take a look at options and then set things up again. Perhaps I will have an edited and republished earlier story ready to provide for signing up. So many things to consider.
I know I’ve been saying this for years but there really is a light at the end of the work tunnel. The company I worked for was bought early in 2023 and we’re on the home stretch for the final integrations. We are bigger, better, and offer more support. I hope to see my nights–and a few mornings (I’m NOT a morning person)– plus weekends free up soon. Maybe in a couple months, possibly three months. We’ll see.
It has definitely been a mountain to climb in this work-life balance. I realized recently that it’s been over 10 years since I started this blogging/writing journey. What better way than to have that website I’ve been wanting for the last 5 years. Now, if only I can get a good price on a MacBook Pro as I liked being able to write on that OS. And I want to get into Vellum, which is only available on a Mac.
If you would like to follow along, fell free to follow my blog, or any of my social media. I will likely post here first then it gets shared to social media second. If you don’t want to follow along anymore, on the blog or social media, feel free to remove yourself. You can also message or email me directly. My contact information is on the page designated for that purpose.
Eventually, there will be a restart to the Newsletter for those that rather have things in their emails, and with it, a free book for joining. Depending on timing, it might be a revised version of an older work, or a new one. It will depend on what stories I manage to get to and finish them for publishing before I restart the newsletter. This self publishing gig is hard.
I think I’ve rambled enough on this post. *wink* Hopefully, the social sharing will work correctly. That was the main hiccup I had and wanted to resolve before I started posting. Please let me know if you succeeded in seeing the link to this post on social media (by interacting/commenting or contacting me on the various platforms). I’m curious to see who sees these posts. 🙂
Hello everyone. Well, I’ve gone and pulled the trigger to migrate my blog to my self-hosted WordPress site last month. I will have more options there, including setting up a commerce site to self publish my books and possibly reorganize the blog. Will it complete this year? Not sure, but that is the goal.
This will be my last post on my WordPress.com site. Within a week or so, the blog.eloreenmoon.com URL will point to https://eloreenmoon.com.
I’m still re-learning everything and plan to be more active this year in writing and all the things as an author and blogger. I’m going to attempt to pick up reviewing more as well as that is what I started with over 10 years ago and I would like to return to that periodically. Hard to believe I’ve been blogging that long. I might return to reviewing Rainbow Gold Reviews as well, at least partially. 2024 is full of goals and I hope to accomplish more this year. 🙂
Speaking of reviews, once my blog URL is live, I will be posting a review for a book with a new-to-me author that I read in one sitting and can’t wait for more. It will be the first post on the new site and I can’t wait to share with you on it. Feel free to subscribe to the blog on the new site should you wish to continue following my journey and see the review. I plan to setup a Newsletter again and will invite my previous subscribers here to it. It will be a double opt in so if you no longer want to follow, feel free to ignore or opt out to remove yourself my my list.
~Eloreen
Queer Sci Fi has a new flash fiction anthology out: Rise, and my story is a part of it. And there’s a giveaway too.
RISE (Noun, Verb)
Eight definitions to inspire writers around the world, and an unlimited number of possible stories to tell:
Rise features 300-word speculative flash fiction stories from across the rainbow spectrum, from the minds of the writers of Queer Sci Fi.
About the Series
Every year, Queer Sci Fi runs a one-word theme contest for 300 word flash fiction stories, and then we choose 120 of the best for our annual anthology.
Giveaway
Queer Sci Fi is giving away a $25 Bookshop.org gift card with this tour:
a Rafflecopter giveawayhttps://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js
Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47301/
Excerpts
It’s a simple recipe.
Passed down in whispers and hands tracing hands through flour and faith. Never written down, paper being too precious for such a small spell, some might say. Like something must be loud to have worth.
A common myth, one that serves her quiet magic well.
She sits pretty in commonhalls and houses, empty eye-sockets and a cloak of harmless charm enough for most to dismiss her. Certainly, her weaving or kneading is all her pretty head can handle.
She listens, and her hands move. Each stitch another secret, gossip kneaded into every loaf.
—From Simple Recipes for Small Magics – Ziggy Schutz
It wasn’t the principles that Matt Harden objected to. The principles were fine: Limited planetary resources. Circle of life. The wrongness of playing God.
But, he thought as he spread the herbs on the basement floor in the prescribed way, the principles were bullshit when you were faced with reality. When the only man who’d ever held your heart was stolen from you by a moment’s distraction behind the wheel. When you never had the chance to even say goodbye. When your body in bed was as cold and alone as a corpse in a coffin.
When the night mist was clammy on your neck and the grave-dirt heavy on your shovel.
—From Principle and Reality – Kim Fielding
“He’s here,” Matt said, slamming the door behind him. “You ready?”
“Think so,” Rory said. He’d finished the salt circle, and quickly moved on to placing the candle in the center.
“Will this work?”
“It’s this or nothing.” Once Tiff told them she’d survived a run in with the killer known as The Hook, Rory knew they were as good as dead. Supposedly this bastard had been killed before, but he never seemed to stop. Much about The Hook seemed unreal, but Rory thought it was the only weapon they had – the unbelievable. Besides, they were gay; those characters always died first.
From Best Served Cold – Andrea Speed
“You do realize,” the nurse said gravely, “that without your parent permission form, this procedure can only be temporary.”
“I do,” Sharon said nervously. Sharon. That was a good name, right? Sounded like Shawn, but wasn’t. Was a girl’s name. A woman’s name. She liked Sharon.
“And that given your parent’s lack of support for this, there will be a counselor assigned to your home to ensure your safety?” The nurse continued, checking the talking points on her tablet with precision.
“I won’t need it,” Sharon said nervously. “They think it’s a phase, but they’re not, you know, hostile.”
From A New Day – Amy Lane
Author Bio
This year, 554 authors entered the Rise contest. 120 of them were chosen, and their stories are included in this anthology:
Queer Sci Fi Website: https://www.queerscifi.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/qsfdiscussions
Mastodon: https://mastodon.otherworldsink.com/@queerscifi
An Excerpt from my story:
A steady heartbeat woke me. Panicked, I saw myself in a cryo-healing tube.
“Shhhh, Mai Mai, you’re ok,” a soothing voice echoed inside the chamber. “Don’t panic. The surgery was successful and you are recovering.”
“I thought that I was only going in for the gender change?” I croaked, a little confused as I remembered.
From Chrysalis – Eloreen Moon
