Don’t Let Me Drown (The Divergency Series 05) by Andy Siege #BlogTour #OtherWorldsInk #LGBTQ+ #Romance #Intersex #Bisexual

Moonbeams over Atlanta welcomes Andy Siege to the blog. Don’t Let Me Drown is the 5th book in the The Divergency Series, and recently released on May 6th, 2025. You do not need to read the other books in the series to enjoy this one.

BOOK BLURB

So begins a race to the border, one step ahead of the rebel army. But as love grows between them and the country is submerged in innocent blood, Aaron comes to understand that he’s not saving Mary. She’s saving him.

Amidst the horrors of war, can Aaron rediscover hope?

Warnings: Violence, Drug Abuse, Depression, Explicit Sex

SERIES BLURB

Unusual stories about racially diverse, neurodivergent characters of marginalised orientations and gender alignments. Enter bizarre, thought-provoking new worlds in these speculative novellas that explore deeply relevant themes in an irreverent way.

These are stand-alone novellas and can be read in any order.
1 – Vinny
2 – Schizotopia
3 – Invisible Lines
4 – Mohamed in the Stars

Buy Links:
Amazon


EXCERPT

CHAPTER ONE

I’m chilling at the bottom of a swimming pool. Being down here, deep underwater, feels amazing. I can’t hold my breath forever though. I wish I could, or that maybe I would drown. Unfortunately, that’s not how human beings work, and eventually my stupid survival instincts will force me to resurface.

Did you know that crocodiles can hold their breath for up to an hour?

I’m behaving like an idiot and I should be embarrassed. I’m an adult and I need to get out and get dressed. I have responsibilities and a job to do. I’m an award-winning photographer, for fuck’s sake. I worked hard to get where I am.

I haven’t taken a photograph since Greece. The last picture I took was of a drowned toddler in a Mickey Mouse T-shirt, curled up on the beach with shallow waves lapping at his little body. The boy and his entire family tried to come over to Europe by motorboat, but a storm flipped them over and they all died. The toddler’s father, mother, and two sisters lay washed up further down the sandbank, with bloated bellies and wide-open eyes.

The Aegean Sea is beautiful at sunrise. I must have taken a thousand photographs with my most expensive Ceica Camera, but only that one specific picture was broadcast around the world. You’ve probably seen it in a newspaper or on TV. In the photograph, the little boy in the Mickey Mouse shirt looks like he’s sleeping, except that his lips are just a bit too blue, and his face is too relaxed. Also, a child wouldn’t be sleeping right in the surf as the sun rises over the Aegean.

My lungs start to burn and there is a kind of pressure building inside my brain, pushing me to resurface out of the swimming pool. I manage to hold my breath for a few more seconds while I rise, and then I pop my head out of the water and gasp.

Soft reggae tunes float through the air, and I smell curry and wood smoke from the buffet by the bar. I’m alone at the pool, apart from one high-class prostitute who is reclining in a pool chair, sipping water through a straw.

The African country of Miberia is at war, so the Western tourists and professionals have all left the country. The only foreigners still here are diplomats, weapons dealers, and journalists like me. I’m staying at the Crystal Hotel, which is a Chinese style high rise, painted blue and with bluish window glass. Even though it’s almost happy hour, and the buffet is extravagant, there’s no one at the bar. I arrived this morning, and the only other guests I saw at lunch were a pair of sketchy looking Asian businessmen.

I was supposed to take a taxi to the outskirts of the city today, to start photographing refugees, but I didn’t. The problem I have right now is a complex state of artistic paralysis. I haven’t taken a picture in many months. You see, people think that I’m good at taking photographs, but the truth is that every good picture I’ve ever taken mystifies me. When I got that major award for the picture of the drowned toddler, I pretended to know what I did to deserve it. But actually, I don’t know what I did, and I fear that I’ll never take a picture that good ever again.

I swim to the edge of the pool and then hoist myself up and out. I have a towel and a papaya vodka cocktail waiting for me on a rickety iron table. I dry myself off and down the drink, while doing a casual sweep of my surroundings. The walls around the hotel courtyard are tall and topped with razor wire. I wonder if they added the razor wire because of the war outside or if it has always been there. I hear a gunshot off in the distance. Somewhere in the city, someone may have just lost their life, and I wasn’t there to take the picture.

I believe in fate. I believe that things happen for a reason. But that poses an ethical problem. You see, I’m a war photographer, so when I take a picture of something horrible, I ask myself if that horrible thing happened just so that I could take a picture of it. Do you follow? I ask myself if the act of me taking a photograph caused the drowning of that little boy in the Mickey Mouse shirt. The obvious answer is no, but hear me out. That little boy’s death, together with my camera, sparked a global conversation about refugees. Fate?

The high-class prostitute on the other side of the pool just winked at me. I don’t find her particularly sexy. I haven’t found anyone sexy in a long time, actually. My libido seems to have died with that toddler in Greece. I can still appreciate the aesthetics of a beautiful person, healthy skin, good teeth, an outgoing personality, but I just can’t get a boner anymore. I shake my head at the prostitute so that she gets it.

There’s a war going on in Miberia. A complex, brutal, bloody beast of a war, and I’m here to take pictures. So now I ask myself, does my presence here mean that bad things will happen just so that I can photograph them? If that’s true, then it might be better if I just stay at the Crystal Hotel, if I don’t venture out into the city, out into the countryside where entire villages are getting butchered. Maybe my presence out there will cause more atrocities to happen. That’s a crippling thought.

I make my way over to the buffet by the bar. There’s roasted chicken and rice that smells like curry and cinnamon. I load my plate with the exotic food and take a seat at a small table. The chow is delicious, probably because the ingredients are much fresher than anything from the supermarket back in Canada. I feel a little shitty though, because I know that while I’m pigging out, about thirty percent of the population of Miberia is starving. There isn’t anything I can do about that, of course, plus I’m hungry.

The two Asian businessmen who I saw at lunch come in through the gate. They’re tall, with unremarkable haircuts, intelligent eyes, and pot bellies. I wonder what category of war profiteer they fall under. Are they weapons salesmen, diplomats, military advisors, diamond miners? They both nod at me, although they don’t smile. I spent some time in the Ukraine during the Russian invasion and I noticed that men who mean business don’t smile a lot.

I’m actually a quarter black, although I pass as white. Most people think I’m Greek or Italian on account of my black hair and slight natural tan. The truth is, though, that my granddad on my mom’s side was Miberian. That’s one of the reasons why I took this assignment. I wanted to get to know the country that my ancestors are from. I even know the name of my tribe, the Mzuru, who live in the northern jungles of Miberia. I don’t know a lot about them, except that they worship crocodiles and have six fingers on their left hands. So do I.

The medical term for this condition is “polydactyly”, which means “many fingers” in Greek. Most people who have this condition can’t use the extra finger because it doesn’t have bones in it, but mine is fully functional. It’s located on the little finger side of the hand and it even helps me complete some tasks better than normal people can. For example, I can switch the settings on my camera faster than other photographers are able to.

I won’t be able to visit the tribe, of course, because of the war. I would love to hug a long-lost relative right now. When I said earlier that I can’t get a boner, I didn’t mean that I’m completely adverse to affection. I do sometimes wish for physical contact, actually I don’t think any human being can exist without it. They did a study with orphans in Romania who were starved of hugs, cuddles, kisses, etc. Those children became sick and died. So yeah, I too feel like getting a backrub or a peck on the forehead from time to time. Today is one of those days where I wouldn’t mind some affection. Paying a prostitute isn’t my style, and the Asian businessmen at the bar are probably too homophobic to cuddle with me.

Actually, homosexuality is illegal in the government-run parts of Miberia, so I’ve got to be a little careful. If I do meet someone to share warmth with, it has got to be a woman. You can literally go to jail here if you are found to be gay. Horrible? Certainly, and it gets worse… you see, in Miberia, you can go to jail if you support gay rights, even if you are straight. That means that there is practically no way for things to get better, because even allies are too afraid to say anything. Whatever, maybe once the war is over, things will change.

The high-class prostitute by the pool is the only female at the hotel, and I’m not going to pay someone for love. I guess I’ll have to toughen up and be alone tonight. As I’m thinking this I hear a burst of machine gun fire out in the city. Did someone just die for no reason? Was I supposed to be there to photograph what happened? Should I have been there to give meaning to the loss of life? Or did the bullets miss their mark because I wasn’t there? Did I save a life by refusing to engage with the bloodshed?


Buy Links:
Amazon

Giveaway:

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

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link if unable to see the above embedded Rafflecopter: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47326/


AUTHOR BIO

Andy Siege born as Andreas Madjid Siege in Kenya in 1985 is an award winning film director and author. He is a POC, neurologically diverse, and queer. He has published 11 novels/novellas, and his debut feature film “Beti and Amare” which he wrote and directed was nominated for multiple high profile international film awards. He has a BA in Creative Writing and an MA in Political Science.

Author Facebook (Personal) | Author Instagram | Author Goodreads | Author Amazon

Iguana by Vincent Traughber Meis #BlogTour #OtherWorldsInk #LGBTQ+ #Romance #Giveaway #MM

Moonbeams over Atlanta welcomes Vincent Traughber Meis to the blog. Iguana is a standalone book recently released on May 3rd, 2025. There is a Rafflecopter giveaway at the end of the post. Look around and good luck!

BOOK BLURB

When it seems there are too many obstacles, Ivan insists they can’t explore their chemistry. Still, he keeps coming back and pulling Dawson in, teasing him with possibility but filling him with doubt. Soon Dawson is consumed with thoughts of Ivan and his mercurial attention, and he can’t help but compare himself to the tragic gay characters in the books he edits. One minute Ivan is playful and laughing, and the next he’s cold and aloof, battling with cultural expectations and familial responsibilities.

Dawson gives into the push and pull of this confusing but exhilarating relationship, trying to convince himself he can handle a no-strings-attached situation with a man who is still coming to terms with his sexuality…even if he knows that he would love nothing more than to have Ivan fully, openly, and all to himself. While this confusing relationship may not be the adventure he was expecting, it may just be the adventure that allows Dawson to decide exactly who and where he wants to be.

Warnings: COVID, death, drug/alcohol use, possible suicide, mention of rape

Buy Links:
Universal


EXCERPT

A rustling in the dry undergrowth and the crackling of twigs indicated a large-ish animal. It spotted me before I spotted it, but even with its camouflage, it couldn’t hide in the sparse surroundings. The iguana slithered up the embankment to higher ground with its long black and tan striped tail fanning back and forth to aid its escape. It climbed a tree and moved out on a branch that hung over the sidewalk in front of me.

I stopped. It stopped. I took a step forward. It crawled out a little further on the branch as if it was a gatekeeper. I had never been that close to an iguana, just ten feet above me, looking fierce with a torso about three feet long and a dewlap of variegated skin fluttering under its throat. A row of spikes ran down the spine, getting shorter as they reached the long tail. I’d been told they were harmless as long as they weren’t threatened. Some people even took them on as unlikely pets, putting them on leashes and charging tourists to take a picture with them.

But there was something about the way it stared at me that kept me frozen there on the pavement, wondering if it was safe to walk under its perch on the branch. I stared back. For what seemed a long time, we stared at each other. And then, its scaly eyebrow closed over the black marble pupil in a bed of yellow iris. If we had been playing a game of who blinks first, I had won. I didn’t feel like a winner, though, and the iguana didn’t seem to care as it continued to observe me, blinking as if bored with the relative newcomer on the planet. I nodded, acknowledging I was an invader in its land. Not just as a foreigner but as a human carving into the jungle habitat of the animal.

I was in Mexico for a new beginning, walking down the hill to do my shopping, if this beast would let me. Sweat began pooling in the middle of my chest, and I needed to move on. As I passed under the branch, I swear the iguana shrugged and looked away as if it was done with me. I felt dismissed. And then I began to laugh, a laughter of relief and surprise, thrilled with this new experience, one more in a long list that seemed a daily occurrence since I had moved here.

The day had begun with clear skies broadcasting hope, the balcony slightly cooler than inside the house as I lingered over my breakfast, feeling the view of the Bay of Banderas from Punta de Mita to Los Arcos like a physical thing that coddled me. We were in the dog days of summer, with the dog-star, Sirius, rising and setting about the same time as the sun. It was the hottest time of the year, and relief only came, I was told by my neighbors, when afternoon showers again pelted the corrugated roofs of the neighborhood down below. Everyone talked of the rains coming late this year.

Before the heat and humidity became too oppressive, I planned to walk down the hill to the market and buy food for the next few days when the forecasters insisted the heavy rains would come, ushered in by thunder and lightning. I would get back up the hill before the church bells struck ten in the plaza below.

I stepped out of the apartment into the stuffy hall, which smelled of fried onions and spices I couldn’t identify from the apartment across the hall. I summoned the elevator and watched the short countdown from the rooftop to my floor. When the doors opened, Ivan in his company logo polo shirt and jeans stood chewing on one of his fingernails. He dropped his hands and folded them in front of his crotch as he stepped aside and made room. “Buenos días, señor Dawson.”

“Hola, Ivan.” I leaned against the back wall and watched his blurry reflection in the shiny metal of the doors.

On the next floor, he got off, and as the doors closed, I let out the breath I didn’t know I had been holding. The tension I felt when near him made no sense. Ivan had been hired a few months before as the day manager who oversaw daily operations in the twelve-unit building curiously named Paradiso, which sounded both presumptuous and unsettling. He handled everything from delivering packages to residents’ doors to coordinating cleanups to keeping the place secure. Everyone found him friendly and efficient. Everyone loved him. Why did I often see him joking and bantering in English and Spanish with other residents when he was all business and cold with me? Why did my packages sometimes go undelivered when everyone else got theirs the same day?


Buy Links:
Universal

Giveaway:

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

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link if unable to see the above embedded Rafflecopter: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47326/


AUTHOR BIO

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

Tio Jorge received a Rainbow Award in the category of Bisexual Fiction in 2012.Down in Cuba received two Rainbow Awards in 2013. Deluge won a Rainbow Award in 2016. His sixth novel The Mayor of Oak Street was released in 2021 with NineStar Press and a book of his short stories in 2021. Three more novels have been published with Spectrum Books, First Born Sons (2023), Colton’s Terrible Wonderful year (2023) and The Long Journey to You (2024). His stories have been published in several collections, including WITH: New Gay Fiction, and other collections. He lives in San Leandro, California and Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.

Author Website | Author Facebook (Personal) | Author Facebook (Author Page) | Author Instagram | Author Goodreads | Author Amazon

Resurrecting My Magic by Timoteo Tong (Magicals Alliance 02) #BlogTour #OtherWorldsInk #LGBTQ+ #Fantasy #Paranormal #Romance #Giveaway #MM #YA

Moonbeams over Atlanta welcomes Timoteo Tong to the blog. Resurrecting My Magic is the second book in the Magicals Alliance series, and released on July 23rd, 2024. There is a Rafflecopter giveaway at the end of the post. Look around and good luck!

BOOK BLURB

In the thrilling sequel to “Magic, Monsters and Me,” Elijah Delomary forges new abilities with new mentors, seeks to reunify with Austin, and faces the terrible truth behind losing his powers. As war rages between Devlina and Zid’dra, Elijah and his family are drawn into the conflict.

Zid’dra grows stronger and brings Elijah to the precipice of destruction. Faced with a terrifying revelation, Elijah is pushed to protect his family, Austin, and the very fabric of existence. The weight of these challenges tests Elijah’s strength, forcing him to confront the darkest forces while proving the unwavering strength of his love to Austin.

As the evil plan comes to light, Elijah forges new abilities with new mentors, seeks to reunify with Austin, and faces the terrible truth behind losing his powers. As war rages between Devlina and Zid’dra, Elijah and his family are drawn into the conflict. Zid’dra grows stronger and brings Elijah to the precipice of destruction. Will he survive? Can he trust himself to do the right thing? Will he believe that love can conquer darkness and save the world?

Warnings: homophobia, racism, bullying, fat phobia, LGBT slurs, fade to black sex

SERIES BLURB

The Magicals’ Alliance series revolves around the influential Delomary family, known for their massive corporation, philanthropy, and charity work. But unbeknownst to the public, they’re also the secret defenders against dark forces, facing off against monsters like Vampires and Werewolves in an age-old battle between good and evil. “Magic, Monsters and Me” is the thrilling first installment in this epic saga. Join them in their mission to protect humanity from perilous extinction.

Buy Links:

Universal | Goodreads


EXCERPT

Excerpt of “Resurrecting My Magic” by Timoteo Tong
Copyright 2024 Timoteo Tong

“One night, I sat in the window seat in my room, watching the rain falling outside my window, when I heard a cry for help.

“Someone help me!”

I glanced at the clock: 3:00 AM. I padded to the door, peering outside to the long hallway stretching from Aunt Christine’s suite on one end to Mom’s on the other. The darkness was punctuated every few feet from the dim chandeliers overhead. Silence. The house and everyone in it were asleep except me. I returned to the window.

“Help!” a voice shouted, weaker this time.

“Shit,” I complained. I returned to my room, walked over to the closet, then jammed my feet in my running shoes and headed downstairs. I grabbed my raincoat from the front hall closet and stepped outside.

Where was security? They usually patrolled the grounds at night. Maybe there was a shift change. Rain thundered down on the roof of the veranda and on the brick walkway winding down the front lawn to the main gates. I stepped onto the stairs and into the rain. I hurried to the wrought iron fence separating our property from the street. I paused, noticing a strange pink light illuminating the jacaranda trees lining the street. I turned to see where it was coming from. I gasped. The house glowed with a fluorescent pink light from the runes Mom had recently cast over the house in the Jotomoarlo Sangrancto. The ancient characters  appeared as if projected on the house moving up along the façade and disappearing on the mansard roof.

“Please, help little old me!” a voice called. I looked back at the house. The house was actively fighting some evil force itself. I turned and made my way to the empty street. A half block away, I spotted a figure, shrouded in shadows between the streetlights, waving to me.

“Help! Monsters!”

“I can help you!” I called, patting my pajama pockets for my PlasmX. Puxhàredo! I left it on the dresser in my closet. I stretched out my arm and raised my hand on the off chance my PlasmX would levitate out of my room and into my hands. Nothing happened. Crap. Máurso had drilled it in my head to never be without my PlasmX. And I had forgotten that rule already. I grumbled. Okay, I would just use my fists and body to battle any monster. My Xem Sen Ou improved every week. I was a walking weapon, I told myself.

I closed in on the figure.

“Come and help me.”

The stench of ashes and sulfur wafted into my nose. I gagged. Okay, a chain smoker needed my help. Mom had drilled it into my head to never smoke.

“You want yellow teeth? Wrinkles when you’re eighteen? Smell like cigarettes?”

“No?”

“Good, don’t smoke, ever!”

I could do this. I paused in front of a shadowy figure.

“Elijah Delomary, Bane of the Gloom, here to help..uh..ma’am, sir, they?”

The figure reached up to their hood with their hands, only the skin was blistered and black and oozing. My eyes widened, seeing rotting flesh on their arms. I stopped in my tracks. I began to back away.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you remember me?” A raspy voice called as the hood fell off the head of the figure. The face of an old woman with wrinkled skin and washed-out blue eyes peered at me. Fungus crusted half the woman’s face.

“Come here, honey. It’s me, your great-great aunt Mady!”

I turned and began to run. That couldn’t be Aunt Mady. She had died when I was eight years old at the ripe old age of 102. My foot hit a rut in the sidewalk, sending me tumbling forward. I crashed onto the lawn of my friend Letitia’s house. I sprawled on my back, rain beating down on my face. My heart lodged in my throat. I wanted to cry out for help. I wanted to run, but for some reason, every muscle in my body was paralyzed. I heard the sound of Aunt Mady’s walker clacking on the sidewalk.

“Come and give me a hug, honey!”

I closed my eyes. I should have woken Barn, called Sunny. Security. No, I— Stop, Elijah. You didn’t know any better. You meant well. The path to hell is lined with good intentions. No, stop. Stop. Stop beating yourself up.

The clacking stopped. Aunt Mady, or whoever she was, stood over me. I was helpless. Thunder rumbled. Our twelfth atmospheric river of the rainy season. The vernal equinox passed weeks ago. Springtime. It never rained this much in Southern California. Something was wrong, someone was trying to drown the land of milk and honey. Drown La La Land and wash California into the sea.

Wheezing filled the air. I pressed my eyes closed as a hand reached for me.  A vision bloomed in my head. Two pinpoints of red light that grew and grew and grew filled my mind.

“You proved yourself quite capable,” the voice said. “I was hoping you’d run yourself ragged, trying to prove to yourself you’re not some piece of crap like your father. I hoped to watch you collapse and die. You didn’t. Then I was sure you would give up. You surprised me. So now I am here to destroy you, so Devlina is weakened, and I can grow stronger!”


Buy Links:
Universal | Goodreads

Giveaway:

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

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link if unable to see the above embedded Rafflecopter: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47322/


AUTHOR BIO

Timoteo Tong’s imagination has always run wild, growing up in Burbank, CA, dreaming of battling vampires, werewolves, and witches in a Victorian mansion. Inspired by literary giants like L. Frank Baum, CS Lewis, and JRR Tolkien, he wrote his first book at eight, featuring his stuffed cocker spaniel marrying a playful duck. Now living in San Francisco with his husband, Timoteo surrounds himself with plants and books, enjoying cheese pizza, donuts, and long naps. He balances his creative pursuits with a healthy lifestyle, working out regularly. Timoteo dreams of flying one day and aims to enchant readers with his storytelling, just as his favorite authors did for him.

Author Website | Author Facebook (Personal) | Author Instagram | Author Goodreads | Author Amazon

Feuds and Interludes: Road to #Rocktoberfest 2024 by R.L. Merrill #BlogTour #NewRelease #OtherWorldsInk #LGBTQ+ #Contemporary #Romance #Giveaway #RockStars #MM

Moonbeams over Atlanta welcomes R.L. Merrill to the blog. Broken Mirror is the first book in the Resonant Earth series, and this second edition was released on August 16th, 2024. There is a Rafflecopter giveaway at the end of the post for Tortured Echoes, the sequel to Broken Mirror. Read on to discover more and good luck!

BOOK BLURB

From the award-winning author of Hurricane Reese, Summer of Hush, and You Can Do Magic comes a new rock star romance series inspired by legendary rock ‘n’ roll love affairs. Feuds and Interludes is a rivals-to-lovers, hurt/comfort love story complete with adorable septuagenarian lovebirds and beloved characters from Merrill’s previous rock-inspired series.

Boone Collins and Shane Butler are two of rock music’s brightest stars today. Their grandfathers founded a powerhouse rock supergroup that ruled the airwaves in the late 1970s, and the grandsons grew up in their shadows to become frontmen of their own successful bands. The epic rivalry between Boone and Shane is notorious, and it’s about to blow up.

When Shane’s grandfather Bruce inducts his deceased bandmate into the Rock Music Hall of Fame, he admits to the world that he wrote the band’s biggest hit about his best friend’s widow—Boone’s grandmother Vera Jean. The two want to rekindle their relationship, and their grandsons are determined to keep them apart. Only, working together for a common goal reveals surprising similarities between the rock stars as well as a chemistry they cannot ignore. Shane sees behind Boone’s glittery facade to the secrets he hides from his bandmates, and Boone is there to pick up the pieces when Shane’s professional world implodes. Together, they plot a musical collaboration to celebrate their grandfathers’ accomplishments instead of fighting—a star-studded tribute at the storied Rocktoberfest event in the Nevada desert—but will being in the spotlight prove to be too much for their fledgling romance to handle?

Buy Links:

Universal Buy Link | Goodreads Link

SERIES BLURB

Feuds and Interludes is part of the multi-author Road to Rocktoberfest 2024 series. Each book can be read as a standalone, but why not read them all and see what antics our bands get into next? Hot rockstars and the men who love them, what more could you ask for. Kick back, load up your kindle, and enjoy the men of Rocktoberfest!


EXCERPT

“Boone, honey, will you zip me up?”

Vera Jean Collins had the kind of beauty that turned heads, the grace of a royal, and the unshakeable poise to shrug off even the most rabid paparazzi. And tonight, all those characteristics would be put to the test. 

I’d never get over how beautiful my grandmother was. The only constant in my life, she was my home, my role model, and my best friend. Wearing a form-fitting, sleeveless black dress adorned with iridescent rainbow sparkles, she had a youthful glow about her at sixty-eight years old and still commanded attention. A statuesque former actress, beleaguered rockstar wife, and now passionate philanthropist, Vera Jean Collins carried herself with an elegance that belied her years spent married to my lovable scoundrel of a grandfather. 

“That tuxedo is very flattering,” she said as I stepped behind her and carefully zipped her dress to the nape of her neck. She’d pulled her long silver hair into a twist that looked professionally done, and with her heels on, she stood nearly eye-to-eye with my five-eleven frame. “I love the vest, too.”

I looked down at the navy velvet suit and gold brocade vest and smiled. “The tailor did a nice job taking it in. I think Papa would get a kick out of me wearing this. He loved this one.” 

I held up the matching tie and she took it from me, gesturing for me to let her tie it. She looped it over my head and went to work, a wistful smile on her face. 

“He certainly did. He bought it to irritate me, and then was frustrated when I told him that I loved how it brought out the blue in his eyes. He was always trying to pull a fast one on me.”

“And you’d always call his bluff.”

She handed me her diamond choker to fasten, and I winced when I noticed her hands were shaking. She was so brave, no matter the challenge before her, but I’d learned to notice the subtle traces of her struggles. Tonight her task would be smiling and waving at her deceased husband’s adoring fans and colleagues as he was posthumously inducted into the Rock Hall. I knew she missed him terribly. We both did. 

“Kept things fun,” she said with a little shrug. She ran her fingers over her choker and relaxed her shoulders. “Always kept him guessing.”

I had my own reason for being nervous. My band, Stellar, was chosen to lead the tribute performance. In a few hours, I would be performing for an arena full of my musical heroes. With Bruce Duncan. I usually did my best when under pressure, but this was ridiculous. 

“It was weird seeing Bruce at rehearsal.”

I’d grown up hearing the stories of when he and my grandfather ruled the world, but I hadn’t seen him in years and had no idea what to make of him as a person. 

“Oh? How so?”

Gran stopped what she was doing and turned to face me.

“He talked to everyone else in the room but me. Well, he scolded me about the timing on one of the songs.”

“Relax, darling,” she said as she fastened her bracelet. “He’s probably just as nervous as you.”

“I’m not nervous. I know these songs like the back of my hand.”

“Right,” she said as she looked me up and down. “And that’s why your shirt is misbuttoned.”

I ran my hand down my shirt, and sure enough, I’d missed a button and the thing had a big bump in the middle sticking out from my vest. I went about undoing and redoing my shirt and vest. You’d think by the age of thirty, I’d be able to dress myself. You’d be wrong, apparently. 

“Yeah, well, his infuriating grandson has probably told him terrible things about me.”

“Oh, nonsense. Shane is a good boy.”

“Boy? He’s two years older than me.”

“You two have more in common than you’d think.”

“He’s determined to be rude to me, so I guess I’ll never know.” 

She was right in the sense that we came from similar backgrounds, but that’s where the similarities ended. I put together a band of unique artists interested in playing smart rock music with a point and a backbone. Shane was a hotheaded, brilliant musician who, instead of following in his grandfather’s virtuoso footsteps, had chosen to while away his time in a mediocre albeit popular metal band, making record after record of predictable drivel. He could do so much better. 

“Maybe if you two walked a mile in each other’s shoes, you’d get along better. Speaking of which, do you have to wear those shoes?”

I looked at my feet and back at her. “My Chucks? Of course, I’m wearing my Chucks. They’re custom-made. Most comfortable shoes I own.” I’d chosen my gold sparkly ones tonight to match the tuxedo, so they really stood out. 

She exhaled through her nose and raised an eyebrow at me. “You’re lucky you’re so handsome,” she said as she fastened her dangly diamond earrings. “You get away with a lot more that way.”

“And you wouldn’t let just anyone escort you tonight. Right. You said that already.” She could tease me all she wanted. I knew how much she loved me. 

“Are you almost ready? Or do you have more metal to put in your head?”

She smiled sweetly at me and I rolled my eyes. I adjusted my septum piercing and ran my fingers over the thick silver rings in both ears. I had a stud through my tongue as well. 

“I think I’m good.” I crossed my eyes at her and she wrinkled her nose. Then her smile morphed into that grandmotherly look I recognized. 

“How about you, Boone? How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. All good.”

I’m not changing the shoes, though. I mentally stuck my tongue out at her. 

Gran slipped her hand through my offered arm and I leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. 

“Chin up, tits out,” she muttered. 

“I’ll try to remember that.”

She subtly hip-bumped me and put on her most dazzling smile, no doubt practicing for the evening ahead.

I loved this woman, owed her my life, and I would stand by her side no matter what. I wanted her to be happy. She deserved happy. 

As for me? I just needed to survive without making a fool of myself. I knew I was good enough to keep up with the likes of Bruce Duncan, but he’d rattled me more than I let on at that rehearsal. The idea that I wouldn’t do my grandfather’s music justice terrified me. 

Papa taught me everything I needed to know to launch my career. I would do him proud tonight. 

And if that meant dealing with the likes of Bruce Duncan or his aggravating grandson, Shane Butler, so be it. 


Universal Buy Link | Goodreads Link

Giveaway:

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

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link if unable to see the above embedded Rafflecopter: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47319/


AUTHOR BIO

Whether she’s writing contemporary romance featuring quirky and relatable characters or diving deep into the paranormal and supernatural to give readers a shiver, R.L. Merrill loves creating compelling, diverse, and inclusive stories that will stay with readers long after. Winner of the Kathryn Hayes “When Sparks Fly” Best Contemporary award for Hurricane Reese, Paranormal Romance Guild’s Best Rockstar Romance for You Can Do Magic, and Daphne DuMaurier finalist for Connection, Ro spends every spare moment improving her writing craft and striving to find that perfect balance between real-life and happily ever after. You can find her connecting with readers on social media, advocating for America’s youth, cruising around town with Great Dane Velma, cuddling with twin black cat familiars Frankenstein and Dracula, or headbanging at a rock show near her home in the San Francisco Bay Area! Stay Tuned for more…

Author Website | Author Facebook (Personal) | Author Facebook (Author Page) | Author Instagram | Author Goodreads | Author Amazon

Take Some Tahini (Real Werewolves Don’t Eat Meat 06) by Karenna Colcroft #BlogTour #NewRelease #OtherWorldsInk #LGBTQ+ #Paranormal #Gay #Romance #Giveaway

Moonbeams over Atlanta welcomes Karenna Colcroft to the blog. In their 6th installment of the Real Werewolves Don’t Eat Meat series, Take Some Tahini released on July 11th. There is a $10 Amazon gift card Rafflecopter giveaway at the end of the post. Read on and good luck!

BOOK BLURB

Tobias Rogan never wanted to be a leader. But here he is, the Anax of the United States, ruler of all werewolves in the country. Only two weeks after winning the rank in a challenge fight against his senile predecessor, Tobias and his mate Kyle are still adjusting to their new reality when a frantic call alerts Tobias to the massacre of nearly half the wolves in a pack in North Dakota–including the pack’s Alpha and Beta.

An investigation reveals that the wolves responsible for the attack are from Canada. Tobias reaches out to Silas Creighton, Anax of Canada, and finds someone like-minded in wanting peace between the wolves of the two countries. At Silas’s invitation, Tobias and his mate Kyle, along with their new guard Quinn Boucher, sole survivor of the North Dakota massacre, travel to Nova Scotia to put an end to the conflict between the American and Canadian werewolves. But not all wolves are interested in peace–and not all want Tobias to survive the trip.

Warnings: violence, gun violence, discussion of past sexual abuse, homophobia

Buy Links:

Amazon Buy Link

SERIES BLURB

Kyle Slidell didn’t move to Boston expecting to be changed into a werewolf. But that’s what happened. He can’t control whether he shifts at the full moon, but he can damn sure continue being vegan–even in wolf form.

Tobias Rogan, Alpha of Boston North Pack, never expected to fall in love with anyone, let alone a man. A male Alpha is not supposed to have a male partner. But when he meets Kyle, he’s immediately attracted. And after Kyle is changed, Tobias realizes the truth: Kyle is not only his partner, but his mate.

The werewolf world isn’t a simple place, and Kyle and Tobias are thrown into the middle of conflict within and among the packs of the United States–a conflict that extends all the way to the top of the werewolf hierarchy. Can they and their love survive what they face?

Series Link


EXCERPT

I debated knocking and decided to just try the doorknob. Kyle had better hearing than the rest of us. He knew I was here. If he didn’t want me to enter the apartment, he would have locked the door.

He hadn’t.  The knob turned easily, and I pushed the door open and entered the living room that had been mine for decades.

The light in the room was off, but the kitchen light was on. I set down my bag and walked slowly into the other room. And there, I found my mate.

Seeing Kyle sitting there, at the same table in the same apartment where our relationship had grown, felt like a knife in my heart. I’d found him. But the way he looked at me almost made me wish I hadn’t. I’d never seen such pain and anger in his eyes.

His eyes mirrored my own emotions. Pain at how he’d left me, not a word to me, not even speaking to me when I reached out. Rage at being abandoned by the one person who had sworn never to do that.

I didn’t know whether to hug him or beat the shit out of him. I did neither, just stood in the doorway, fists clenched, waiting for him to fucking say something so I could.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.” I went toward the other chair but stopped. If I got too close to him, I might lunge across the table and strangle him. I closed my eyes just long enough to let an image of the ocean form. It didn’t calm me as much as usual, but at least it washed away the urge to hurt Kyle for hurting me. Which was good. I would never hurt Kyle.

I had before. I hadn’t meant to, but I had. And I’d sworn I never would again.

I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. “You’re here.”

“And the sky is blue, grass is green, and werewolves have fur.” He folded his arms. “You found me. Now what?”

His tone was completely flat. No anger, which would have been a good sign if he’d shown any other emotion. But there was nothing. He didn’t want me there. I could feel that through our bond, which was actually a good sign. The bond was still intact. But the way he spoke, the way he looked at me, sent my temper on the upswing again. How fucking dare he be a sarcastic asshole after what he’d done to me?

I gritted my teeth and forced another long, slow breath. “We talk. You tell me why you left, and we decide if we can fix it.”

“And if we can’t?”

“Then at least we talked to each other!” My voice rose, and I didn’t give a shit, even though Kirk could hear and probably everyone in the other two buildings could as well. “You just took off, Kyle. You didn’t say a damn thing, just took off. I was worried.” My eyes watered, and I blinked a few times as my anger ebbed. “I love you.”

“You have a weird way of showing it.” He sighed. “Sit down, would you? Unless you’re trying some Anax intimidation tactic on me.”

“I’m not.” I sat and leaned my elbows on the table. “How could you do that? How could you just leave without saying a fucking word?”

“I didn’t know what to say. You would have told me not to go. And I wouldn’t have gone. And I would have kept dealing with all that shit.”

“What shit?”

“You know.” He waved. “I’m a weakness for you. I shouldn’t exist or whatever. Those assholes back in California.”

“So you fucking walked out on me because of them?” I was so furious I was shaking. “You left as soon as I was gone. You knew you were going. You were gone by the time I called you, and you didn’t say a goddamn word. How could you do that?”

“I should have.” This time, emotion filled his tone. “I’m sorry, Tobias. I just…I needed to get the fuck out of there. And I knew you would have told me not to go. I didn’t want to do this.”

“Do what?”

“This.” He gestured toward me. “Argue. Process our feelings. I just wanted to get away from the homophobes and the memories. Living in that house…I’m guessing you have some decent memories of the place. You went there for years for the national gatherings. A couple weeks ago was my first time being there, and I spent most of the gathering in a goddamn cage, Tobias.”

I felt like he had jammed a blade into my heart. Involuntarily, I took a step back. How had I not realized? I knew all too well what trauma could do, but I hadn’t even considered how Kyle must feel waking up every single day in the place where he’d been dragged away from me and locked in a tiny basement cell.


Amazon Buy Link

Giveaway:

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

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link if unable to see the above embedded Rafflecopter: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47313/


AUTHOR BIO

Karenna Colcroft lives just north of Boston, Massachusetts, and has been in love with the city since childhood, though she has yet to encounter any werewolves, vampires, or other paranormal beings in her travels. At least none that she knows of.

Karenna is a polyamorous, nonbinary human who lives in Massachusetts with her husband. She also has two adult children and three “bonus” kids, four grandchildren, and two and a half cats. (Half in terms of time the cat lives with her, not in terms of the cat itself…)

Author Website | Author Facebook (Personal) | Author Facebook (Author Page) | Author Amazon

#Review: The Captive’s Curse (Twilight Mages Book 2) by @eliotgraysonauthor #LGBTQ #RecentRelease #Romance #Fantasy #Magic

Moonbeams over Atlanta welcomes Eliot Grayson to the blog.  Eliot is back at it again with the sequel to The Royal Curse (see my review of the first book here, if you missed it). While standalone, I would recommend reading the first book to get the backstory of the universe.

Note: A reader copy was provided for an honest review.  The book released on Amazon May 30th, 2024.

The Blurb:

Unwanted. Unloved. Unransomed. And unable to control his dawn magic by any other means…

At odds with his family and on the run, Lord Cyril is taken prisoner and held in a gloomy mountain fortress—which he brightens up quite a bit, thank you. His captor wants him to be quiet and not cause any trouble, but who cares? Cyril may need the mysterious highwayman to quell his dawn magic and keep him sane, but he’s overbearing, sardonic, and unpleasant.

Mostly. Except when Cyril can’t live without his touch, or his voice, or his rare smile…

Ser Enzo, a robber and (not quite) a gentleman, desperately wants his obnoxious, adorable, irritating, irresistible captive off his hands…and other parts. Lord Cyril’s wanton, irrepressible, and worst of all—his family won’t take him back. Enzo can’t release him without being paid. It’s against his principles.

But so is keeping his bewitching captive forever. Cyril may be his prisoner, but Enzo’s dangerously close to losing his own freedom by falling under the mage’s spell…

The Captive’s Curse is the second book in the Twilight Mages series, but it takes place concurrently with book one and can be read as a standalone. Contains wildly inappropriate discussions of vegetables (no vegetables were actually harmed in the making of this book), the mad ghost of an evil lord (the Mad Lord is harmed, to no one’s regret), and the overcoming of fears, family quarrels, and scheming villains to reach a guaranteed HEA.

The Review:

5 Stars

bluestarclipart
bluestarclipart
bluestarclipart
bluestarclipart

As per usual, I devoured this story in one sitting eschewing sleep no less. Again, the opportunity to read an ARC of the second book in this fascinating universe of Twilight mages was too good to pass up.

In this story, we have Lord Cyril who enjoys his magic control to the fullest extent, riding away from his family in his wedding finery, and demands his due from the disagreeable kidnapper/savior Ser Enzo even while hurt in the raining forest Cyril finds himself in. They circle each other, both pompous in their own ways, and they have their adventures as their story unfolds and fall in love. We continue in the British-style of storytelling, obnoxious ghosts, betrayals, some angst– mostly on Cyril’s part, but Enzo has some too, and some humor thrown in here and there to liven things. Most of the story is told by Cyril’s perspective and I would have loved to see Enzo’s side more, but I’m weird that way. 🙂

Overall, it’s a great book and you will run the gamut on the feels. The book continues with high-heat, quirky secondary characters, and the happily-ever-after ending we’ve come to expect.

The Captive’s Curse has everything you expected from the swashbuckling highwayman, plot twists, Cyril coming into his own, and of course, a love story with a slow buildup. Again, it was a fantastic read and I can’t wait for more. There are other characters waiting in the wings, and I would love to see their story unfold.

With this, I give The Captive’s Curse 5 stars.

Eloreen Moon

Book Links:

Goodreads | Amazon

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.

Website | Goodreads Author Page | Amazon Author Page | Instagram | Facebook Group ~ Escape from Reality | BookBub | Linktree

Down the Line (Jake’s Bar 04) by AG Meiers #BlogTour #NewRelease #OtherWorldsInk #Romance #LGBTQ+ #Giveaway #Suspense #Gay

Moonbeams over Atlanta welcomes AG Meiers. She has a new gay romantic suspense in her Jake’s Bar series Book 4: Down the Line.

BOOK BLURB

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

Universal Buy Link

ABOUT THE SERIES

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


Giveaway

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

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct 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.

Universal Buy Link


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

Earthquake Ethan (Forces of Nature 03) by R.L. Merrill #BlogTour #NewRelease #Romance #LGBTQ+ #Gay #Giveaway

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.

Forces of Nature Book Three Earthquake Ethan by R.L. Merrill

Book Blurb:

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.

AmazonQueeRomance Ink | Goodreads


Excerpt

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—


Giveaway

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

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct 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

#Review: The Royal Curse (Twilight Mages Book 1) by @eliotgraysonauthor #LGBTQ #RecentRelease #Romance #Fantasy #Magic

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:

5 Stars

bluestarclipart
bluestarclipart
bluestarclipart
bluestarclipart

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:

Goodreads | Amazon

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.

Website | Goodreads Author Page | Amazon Author Page | Instagram | Facebook Group ~ Escape from Reality | BookBub | Linktree

#Blitz The London Chance by Lane Hayes #Contemporary #LGBTQ #Gay #Romance #Rafflecopter

Title: The London Chance

Author: Lane Hayes

Publisher: Lane Hayes

Release Date: July 25, 2023

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 27,500

Genre: Romance, Romantic Comedy, Bisexual Romance, Gay Romance, Humor, Contemporary Romance

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

Two strangers, an online dating app, and a chance at forever… Chance After months of online correspondence with a sexy businessman, we’re finally meeting in person—in London, no less! Okay. It’s a casual meet-up. Nothing to get excited about. I fully understand that online connections don’t always translate in person. Roman could be pompous or worse…boring. Wish me luck! Roman Dinner with my online “friend” doesn’t go well. I shouldn’t be disappointed. That’s life. But just as I’m ready to write our peculiar acquaintanceship off, Chance turns up unexpectedly at a karaoke bar. Don’t ask what I’m doing there. I have no idea. However, I don’t mind at all. It feels like the universe is giving us a cosmic redo. Sure, Chance lives in California and my home is in the UK now, but this feels like the real thing. Something worth taking a chance on. A forever chance. The London Chance is an MM, bisexual romance featuring an American, a Canadian, a dating app, and an unexpected HEA.

Excerpt

“What time is it?” I grumbled, rubbing my stubbled jaw. “Half one,” a deep, rumbly voice replied. I spun on my heels with my mouth wide open, unsure where to begin. An apology, a thank-you, maybe even a fuck-you.…Words weren’t my friend without caffeine and if it was really one thirty in the afternoon, I was going to have a difficult time navigating this one. If I was going to unravel in a foreign country, was an audience necessary? And better question…did it have to be this man? Roman stepped into the room, instantly taking over the space. The combination of his height, broad shoulders, and broody presence made him seem intimidating as fuck even in a navy V-neck sweater, casual jeans, and bare feet. His hair flopped roguishly over his right eye, which should have softened his sharp features, but…it didn’t. He was devilishly handsome and sexy and— I think I puked on his shoes last night. Oh, please let this be a bad dream. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping for a scene change and a new cast when I opened them again. Nope. I was still in Roman’s guest room, standing three feet from the man himself, wearing his T-shirt and— “Are these your boxers?” I asked, plucking at the silky red fabric. One corner of his mouth twisted in wry amusement. “They were a gift. You can have them. How are you feeling?” I wrinkled my nose. “I’ve been better. I’m sorry about—” “Don’t worry about it.” He waved dismissively and moved to the doorway. “Would you like coffee or tea?” “Coffee, please.” He smiled kindly. “You got it. I’ll make toast and bacon too.” “Thank you. Coffee is fine, but—” I paused to look around the immaculate room. “I need my clothes.” “Trust me. You don’t want your clothes.” “Huh?” “I threw your socks and underwear in the wash, but your suit and shirt needed to be dry-cleaned. They’ll be ready tomorrow. I’ll grab a pair of sweatpants and socks for you. You’re welcome to shower. The toothbrush on the counter is the one you used last night. I’ll leave clothes on the banister for you. Meet me downstairs when you’re ready.” Roman was gone before I could thank him or protest. I decided I wasn’t ready to deal with the fuzzier parts of last night that had resulted in my clothing immediately needing to be dry-cleaned. I headed for the bathroom instead. The deliciously hot shower under a wide spray felt so amazing, I never wanted to get out. And the thick towel on the warming rack was a slice of nirvana. I dried myself, then wrapped the towel around my waist and wiped steam off the mirror. I scanned the marble-and-glass haven as I brushed my teeth, sighing at the very unwelcome memory of kneeling on the tiled floor in front of the porcelain god. How was I going to face this man? I’d been a fucking mess last night. Running into traffic, dancing in the rain…and oh…shit. I’d called him daddy. More than once. Heat bloomed across my cheeks as I rinsed and patted my mouth dry, but I couldn’t exactly hide in here. I slipped the boxers and tee on and found a pair of gray sweats and black socks perched on the banister post where Roman said they’d be. I finished dressing, finger-combed my short hair, and took one last cleansing breath before following the scent of coffee downstairs.

Purchase at Amazon

Meet the Author

Lane Hayes loves a good romance! An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters. She loves wine, chocolate and travel (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband and her fabulous pup, George.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Instagram | BookBub

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway