Andrew Q. Gordon

Author: Andrew

  • An Interview with Anna Butler—Makepeace Blog Tour and Giveaway

    Please welcome back Anna Butler.  Anna came to visit last year about this time to talk about Heart Scarab, Book 2 of her Sci-fi series Taking Shield. You can find that interview here:

    Anna Butler Interview:

    This time, Anna and I are going to getting into more specifics about not only the book, but the universe she created.  When you’re done reading the interview, make sure you enter her giveaway.

    An Interview With Anna Butler

    Hi Anna. Welcome back. What have you been up to since you last visited?

    I’ve been working hard on the fourth Taking Shield book, The Chains of Their Sins, which went to my publisher and editor only this week in final draft. It picks up the Shield story after the events of Makepeace, dealing mostly with the political fallout, and we get to see some of the prisoners rescued from Makepeace and find out more about what happened to them.

    I’m also about half-way into the second of my steampunk series, which started out with The Gilded Scarab, published in February last year. In this follow-up book, the heroes Rafe Lancaster and Ned Winter are in Aegypt for the archaeological digging season—Ned is an Aegyptologist—where they will face up to sabotage and danger. The book is called The Dog Who Swallows Millions. I hope this will be sent to the publisher in the autumn.

    Tell us a bit about Makepeace.

    Working on the data that he collected way back in the first book, Gyrfalcon, Bennet finds evidence that human prisoners are being kept alive on Makepeace, a planet that was once a human colony but was overrun by the Maess a century or more before. It takes a little while for his analysis to be complete, but what he concludes the Maess are doing shocks and horrifies not only him but also his military and political masters. He’s sent to Makepeace, which is now deep in Maess territory, to see if it’s possible to rescue the people trapped there. What he finds proves his analysis right. What the Maess has in store for humanity is not good. The book deals with the raid behind Maess lines and the immediate aftermath. It’s the most overtly ‘military’ of the books.

    Let talk specifics. I know the title Makepeace comes from the planet, but was there some hidden meaning in either the planet’s name or title?

    You got me! Yes. It’s an ironic name, the irony coming from the juxtaposition between the burgeoning demands of a new political movement that wants peace because humanity is so tired of war, and the horrible realisation the Bennet comes to that nothing will stop the Maess, and that peace is an illusion. Not subtle, of course, but it made me smile.

    Where did the idea for the Maess come from?

    I’m very fond of old school science fiction – Star Wars, Trek, BSG, Babylon 5. I wanted an opponent for humanity that was, rather like the Shadows of Babylon 5, a race of older, inimical beings that had no point of similarity to humans, no sense of even faint kinship that the humans can appeal to. We’ll actually find out more about them in the final book, but what Bennet saw of them in Gyrfalcon, they’re have amorphous bodies capable of being twisted into other shapes (you might remember the one Bennet saw ‘grew’ a mirror image of Bennet’s own face and screamed at him). And, also like the Shadows, I wanted them to be few in number and having to use other means of fighting – hence the cyborg drones, which owe something to Imperial Stormtroopers, BSG amd innumerable Trek episodes.

    Why are Dreadnoughts ‘irreplaceable?’

    Purely the immense capital cost.

    Albion has been at war for three generations now. It is a cripplingly expensive war to wage, and even with an economy heavily focused on supporting the war, there just isn’t enough money in the coffers to build something as huge as a dreadnought. Building a new one would take something like a century’s worth of GDP to finance!

    How did you come up with the ‘science’ for your space ships?

    A lot of research, a lot of thinking about what’s shown in other books and on TV. I don’t always show it all in the books, though. For instance, all the spaceships are capable of FTL travel, with hyperdrive engines that drop them out of normal space and into hyperspace (so I can get around Einstein’s pesky relativity limitations). What I don’t do in the story is set aside narrative space for explaining how it works or how the ships navigate. That’s because I’m not writing a treatise on FTL travel or a handbook for role playing games. I’m storytelling, and I don’t want to take up chunks of text with stuff that does not move the story along.

    I know some people revel in the science-y stuff, though, and certainly one or two reviews have grumbled that I’ve handwaved over that too much. So at some point, I’ll probably add it as extra background content on my website.

    Do you find it difficult to come up with realistic ‘systems’ that you can keep consistent as you write further into the series?

    I’ve been careful to keep a large ‘bible’ of things that help me keep the story more or less under control. This ranges from the name of every dreadnought and destroyer in Fleet to a list of medals for valour to a detailed essay on Albion’s political structure and governance. Mostly, this seems to work out!

    Last year you hinted that Bennet won’t see Flynn again until Book Four – The Chains of Their Sins. Should we hold any hope for Flynn to be in Makepeace?

    Flynn is there, although not in equal time to Bennet (Makepeace is essentially Bennet’s story), but he and Bennet do not meet. Flynn’s chapters are more to do with a ‘meanwhile, back on the Gyrfalcon’ storyline, especially his short-lived relationship with Bennet’s sister Natalia. Flynn rather unashamedly uses her to try and get information on what Bennet is up to.

    You mention that “Shield” soldiers get rotations out of that unit for a time, was it hard to create your own ‘code of military service’ for the series and what other quirks did you put in?

    I don’t think it was hard, precisely, but it was a great deal of fun. I have built up a spreadsheet that sets out how Albion’s Defence Forces are governed, setting out the chain of command from the Supreme Commander downwards, listing all 9 Fleet Flotillas, the 9 Infantry regiments (under Field Marshal Klara), the Shield Regiment, Transport Fleet, Demeter Transfer Station and the three fixed space-defence bases. The idea was simply so I had it clear in my head how everything interlocks, even if every detail never makes it into the books.

    In Shield, for example, ships are brigaded into a battlegroup, headed by a major. Every three battlegroups are headed up by a colonel. So Bennet has a clear career path to get him to the point he’s aiming for – he *really* wants to command the regiment one day!

    When it comes to the Gyrfalcon, I have organization charts for the squadrons and more spreadsheets showing how they work a shift system across a 25 hour duty period.

    Control freak much?!

    Are there other worlds like Makepeace, ones that were once human colonies, but are now under Maess control?

    Several. Humanity isn’t winning this war. They’ve had to cede space and territory – in the second book, Heart Scarab, they lost the planet Telnos, and that isn’t a lone example. What’s unique about Makepeace, though, is the presence of live human prisoners. That’s very unusual. The Maess usually kill humans without compunction. That’s what makes it imperative for Bennet to go and find out what’s happening there, and what sort of threat that may pose to humans.

    Is there anything after The Chains of Their Sins?

    At least one more book, tentatively called Day of Wrath. I have a lot to cover, so I’m not sure I’ll get everything into one book. I’ll have to try and be more concise than usual! I won’t give too much away here, but some of the hints and strands of the earlier books come to fruition in a significant political and military crisis. And set against that, I hope to get Bennet and Flynn’s relationship to a hopeful stage – Chains will be full of angsty UST that will need a resolution!

    What else do you have coming out?

    Nothing planned at the moment. I’m focused on finishing the second steampunk novel and getting the last Shield book done. I’m not a terribly prolific writer. I envy people who produce a novel every couple of months, but I just don’t write that fast.

    Any recommendations for readers that you’ve read and enjoyed lately?

    I’ve been revisiting some old favourites recently, and have really been enjoying rereading David Weber’s Honor Harrington series. These are military sci-fi books with, most unusually for its time, a female main character who has agency and doesn’t rely on a man to rescue and protect her. I loved them when I first read them, and thoroughly enjoyed them since. They’re a sort of female Hornblower in space.

    Last question is all yours. What else would you like to tell readers about the series, the book, other books, anything?

    At the moment, romance as a genre is huge, and the m/m element of that is burgeoning and growing. That’s great, but it does mean that any books with LGBT protagonists are looked at through a romance lens, and if any of your readers pick up a Taking Shield book and are looking for romance, they are doomed to disappointment!

    But while Taking Shield isn’t romance, it *is* a love story—a very deep and, at times, intense love story that covers six years of interstellar war and billions of miles of space travel. The Maess war and everything Bennet has to do there gets equal billing with the slow unfolding of his relationship with Flynn, and sometimes the love gets pushed into second place. But it’s there, all the same.And perhaps one day, at the end of everything, they’ll get the chance they deserve.

    But honest. No hearts and flowers here!

    Thanks again, Anna for coming by.

    About the Taking Shield series

    gyrfalcon_cvr_f-businesscardEarth’s a dead planet, dark for thousands of years; lost for so long no one even knows where the solar system is. Her last known colony, Albion, has grown to be regional galactic power in its own right. But its drive to expand and found colonies of its own has threatened an alien race, the Maess, against whom Albion is now fighting a last-ditch battle for survival in a war that’s dragged on for generations.Taking Shield charts the missions and adventures of Shield Captain Bennet, scion of a prominent military family. Against the demands of his family’s ‘triple goddess’ of Duty, Honour and Service, is set Bennet’s relationships with lovers and family.

    When the series opens, Bennet is at odds with his long term partner, Joss, who wants him out of the military and back in an academic, archaeological career. He’s estranged from his father, Caeden, who is the HeartScarab_cvr_f (1)commander of Fleet’s First Flotilla. Events of the first book, in which he is sent to his father’s ship to carry out an infiltration mission behind Maess lines, improve his relationship with Caeden, but bring with them the catalyst that will destroy the one with Joss: one Fleet Lieutenant Flynn, who, over the course of the series, develops into Bennet’s main love interest.

    Over the Taking Shield story arc, Bennet will see the extremes to which humanity’s enemies, and his own people, will go to win the war. Some days he isn’t able to tell friend from foe. Some days he doubts everything, including himself, as he strives to ensure Albion’s victory. And some days he isn’t sure, any longer, what victory looks like.

    Taking Shield 01: Gyrfalcon

    Taking Shield 02: Heart Scarab

    About Makepeace

    Makepeace_cvr_fReturning to duty following his long recovery from the injuries he sustained during the events recounted in Heart Scarab, Shield Captain Bennet accepts a tour of duty in Fleet as flight captain on a dreadnought. The one saving grace is that it isn’t his father’s ship—bad enough that he can’t yet return to the Shield Regiment, at least he doesn’t have the added stress of commanding former lover Fleet Lieutenant Flynn, knowing the fraternisation regulations will keep them apart.

    Working on the material he collected himself on T18 three years before, Bennet decodes enough Maess data to send him behind the lines to Makepeace, once a human colony but under Maess control for more than a century. The mission goes belly up, costing Albion one of her precious, irreplaceable dreadnoughts and bringing political upheaval, acrimony and the threat of public unrest in its wake. But for Bennet, the real nightmare is discovering what the Maess have in store for humanity.

    It’s not good. It’s not good at all.

    Series: Taking Shield

    Publisher: Wilde City Press

    Cover Artist: Adrian Nicholas

    Excerpt

    The thing, whatever it was, had fallen between two pods. It didn’t move. Unlike the soldier outside, it didn’t kick its legs or drum its heels. It felt nothing. Bennet bent over it, laser at the ready, his shoulders lifting to hunch protectively over his neck. He blew out a soft breath. Thank fuck. Thank fuck.

    Not an organic Maess, at least.

    Definitely a drone. Possibly a modified EDA? It had the same well articulated hands, the same smooth plasticised skin over the electronics and metal underneath. But the metallic body had a bluish tinge.

    The head was different. His first thought was it was translucent, the interior scattered with pinpoint lights. But no. The ovoid was bigger than usual but solid and opaque. Some sort of mesh covered the metal casing, the tiny lights woven into it at varying depths, giving the illusion he could see inside.

    Blue lights, the intense sapphire blue of the lights fizzing down the columns into the pods. Whatever this was, it was no ordinary drone.

    The lights in its head dimmed. Flickered out.

    The thing was deactivated.

    It had shaken Haydn out of his previous calm. “What the hell is that?”

    T18. Bennet had seen something like this on T18. Just a glimpse. When he’d seen that Thing, the real Maess, surrounded by drones, there had been something else. Something thinner than the usual drones, less bulky. Blue lights were involved, too. The Strategy Unit analysts never had worked out what it was. In the end they’d concluded it had been a problem with his camera, reflecting the lighting inside the base on T18. He’d had no reason to argue.

    Well, now he knew it hadn’t been the lighting.

    Buy Links

    Amazon.com

    Amazon.co.uk

    Wilde City

    About the author

    metallic spaceship200Anna was a communications specialist for many years, working in various UK government departments on everything from marketing employment schemes to organizing conferences for 10,000 civil servants to running an internal TV service. These days, though, she is writing full time. She recently moved out of the ethnic and cultural melting pot of East London to the rather slower environs of a quiet village tucked deep in the Nottinghamshire countryside, where she lives with her husband and the Deputy Editor, aka Molly the cockerpoo.

    Where to Find Anna:

    Website and Blog

    Facebook

    The Butler’s Pantry (Facebook Group)

    Pinterest

    Twitter

    Sign up for Anna’s quarterly newsletter

     

    Giveaway

    Win a print copy of Gyrfalcon, the first of the Taking Shield series by entering this Rafflecoptor:

    a Rafflecopter giveaway

  • Lime Gelatin and Other Monsters Blog Tour — An Interview With Angel Martinez

    Lime Gelatin and Other Monsters Blog Tour — An Interview With Angel Martinez

    Please welcome Angel Martinez to the Land of Make Believe. Angel is here today to discuss the re-release of Lime Gelatin and Other Monsters.  She agreed to let me ask her some questions about her, her works and the series.

    An Interview with Angel Martinez

    Welcome Angel. Since this is your first interview on the blog, tell us about yourself.

    Hi Andrew! Thank you letting me visit. I come from an academic family, so I’m something of a black sheep having “only” earned a BA in English Lit. Hey, I fought that degree hard, going to school with the clear goal of genetic engineering, but when something keeps calling, you can’t ignore it forever.

    But love for a subject doesn’t guarantee employment. I was a job jumper for thirty years, retail, nursing, banking, health insurance, yaddah, yaddah, with job tracks and titles that have no meaning outside the corporate world and almost less inside it. I reached the point a few years ago where the kid was grown, we were on stable financial ground, and I could leave the corporate world to write full time. Have to be honest with you. Don’t miss it even a little.

    Other than that? I live in Northern Delaware—where I’ve always lived—with one husband, (still the original) two regular sized cats and one oversized Maine Coon mix who is a talented paperclip thief. I write science fiction and fantasy with queer content, often with a strong romantic thread mixed in, though that’s not a must for me.

    Before we talk about the new release, Lime Gelatin and Other Monsters, talk about the Offbeat Crimes Series. What was the inspiration for the series?

    This one’s a little unusual for me. Stories come from everywhere—from snips of conversation, bits of dreams, an article, a poem, a joke. This one came from a prompt, which doesn’t happen for me terribly often. I can write to a prompt, but they’re rarely inspiring.

    The call was for a paranormal precinct tucked away in a city’s police department (with the author’s choice of city.) Sure, I knew what other authors might write. Werewolf cops. Vampire cops. Cops with psychic abilities. They would all be deadly serious, full of violence, angst, and horribly broken characters. I wanted to subvert that, to write something humorous, something different…the opposite of a powerful, competent paranormal precinct. It’s maybe a character flaw that I’m drawn to the contrary, but damn it, it’s fun.

    As a native Philadelphian, I see references to places I know well. Why Philadelphia?

    I like Philadelphia. Seriously, you have to understand that Delaware has no large cultural centers. Newark is a nice college town, and Wilmington has some cultural things going for it, but neither are on the scale of a large city. Philadelphia is and always has been the major cultural center in my life. We go there for unusual movie screenings, for concerts, for museums, for historical sites, and for good restaurants. All the amazing restaurants.

    So it’s my adopted big city. I don’t live there, but I’ve spent a lot of time there. I so often use settings of my own devising that it was both a challenge and a joy to include places I had actually been, streets I had actually walked. A reader and friend was visiting last fall and I was able to take her on an Offbeat Crimes tour of the places mentioned in the book. How fun is that?

    This is an urban fantasy, can you tell us a bit about how abilities work?

    Abilities, for the most part, are inborn and manifest later in life, often under extreme duress. As to how they work, they mirror old-school paranormal mental abilities—telekinesis, pre-cognition, that sort of thing.

    How are ‘broken’ talents different from ‘unbroken?’

    Unbroken talents are ones that work as advertised. If you’re a telekinetic, you should be able to move objects at will. If you’re someone gifted with apportation, you should be able to teleport objects from one place to another. Our squad of rejects at the 77th Precinct have abilities that don’t work well, don’t have a full range of effect, or simply are too bizarre for the State Paranormal unit in Harrisburg.

    Shira Lourdes is a stress telekinetic. Her mind only moves objects when she’s upset. Jeff Gatling can only teleport fruit. Vance Virago is a firestarter but it can’t be wet or humid or he can’t get a spark. Carrington Loveless III (son of a wealthy Main Line family) is a skim blood vampire. He can’t drink whole blood. And so on.

    Tell us about your main characters.

    Kyle Monroe was happy being a normal cop until his “talent” manifested. He’s still adjusting to life at the 77th but he’s a well-adjusted, cheerful person most of the time. He’s managing. He’s a Philly boy, born and bred, loves geeky things and has a meat allergy that ambushed him late in life.

    Vikash Soren, his new partner, is cool and reserved, far too calm and far too perfect as far as Kyle’s concerned. He grew up a bit farther to the west, so he’s new to the city, and his paranormal talent is neither immediately evident nor something he wants to talk about.

    The second book, The Pill Bugs of Time¸ is coming out in August. Do you plan to write any more in the series after that.

    As a matter of fact, yes. There are four more scheduled, some that will follow officers we know from the first two books and some that will follow new officers. The titles tentatively, in order are: Skim Blood and Savage Verse, Feral Dust Bunnies, Dropbears and Snipe Hunts, and All the World’s a Condemned Stage.

    Tell us something interesting that isn’t in the blurb?

    The head of the department, Lieutenant Dunfee, is the anti-priestess of an elder god and must conduct regular rituals to keep said god from manifesting.

    Since there is always another story to tell, what’s next?

    There are always “what’s next” stories stacked up in my doorway. As to what’s immediately next, I’m writing the next story in the Brandywine Investigations series (gods in the modern world) which involved Charon the ferryman and a certain raccoon god, but I don’t want to say too much on that yet.

    The last question is all yours, share whatever you like with the readers.

    I once had a reader say they wanted to live in my brain. You really don’t want to do that. It’s very messy in here. Envision an episode of Hoarders with bad flooring. You step wrong and you have no idea where you’ll end up. We’d have to send out search and rescue dogs with flashlights and emergency supply packs and even then, I can’t guarantee we’d get you out. I’m happy to keep handing things out through the window. Just…don’t come in here.

    Thanks so much for stopping by, Angel!  -AQG

    Blurb:

    limegelatinandothermonsters_800Kyle Monroe’s encounter with a strange gelatinous creature in an alley leaves him scarred and forever changed, revealing odd abilities he wishes he didn’t have and earning him reassignment to a precinct where all the cops have defective paranormal abilities.

    Just as he’s starting to adjust to his fellow misfit squad mates, Kyle’s new partner arrives. Tall, physically perfect, reserved, and claiming he has no broken psychic talents, Vikash Soren irritates Kyle in every way. But as much as he’d like to hate Vikash, Kyle finds himself oddly drawn to him, their non-abilities meshing in unexpected ways. If they can learn to work together, they might be able to stop the mysterious killer who has been leaving mutilated bodies along the banks of the Schuylkill.

    Publisher:          Pride Publishing

    Cover Artist:     Emmy Ellis

    Release Date: Pride store release 7/19/16, General release 8/16/16

    Series Info:

    Offbeat Crimes:

    Every region has them, but no police department talks about them—the weird crimes, the encounters with creatures out of nightmares. The 77th Precincts exist in certain cities to handle paranormal crime and containment, usually staffed with experienced officers exhibiting psychic abilities.

    In Philadelphia, through an odd mix of budget issues and circumstance, the 77th is manned entirely by officers with bizarre or severely limited psychic talents. The firestarter who can’t get a spark when it’s humid. The vampire who can’t drink whole blood. These are the stories of the misfits, the outcasts from even the strangeness of the paranormal community. Call them freaks, but they’re police officers first, serving and protecting, even if their methods aren’t always normal procedure.

    Excerpt:

    Kyle sat up straighter, shifting to see between the heads in front of him. Soren looked like a poster boy for the model police officer, tall and straight, uniform crisp and sharp. He stood at parade rest beside the lieutenant impassively surveying his new colleagues. A little knot of resentment lodged in Kyle’s stomach. At his own introduction to the Seventy-seventh, he’d been nervous and fidgety, freaked out by the collection of…freaks. How can he be so calm?

    “Officer Soren transferred from the Harrisburg PD—”

    “Don’t they have enough freaky shit of their own up there?” Wolf called out in his rasping growl.

    “—since Harrisburg is in our jurisdiction,” she continued with a quelling glance. “He’ll start out partnered with Monroe.”

    “What does he do, ma’am? That it’s safe to put him with Kirby, er, Kyle?” Shira Lourdes asked as she flicked nervous glances across the room at Kyle. An empty chair slid away from her and fell over. Her partner, Greg Santos, shook his head and righted the unfortunate piece of furniture.

    “Officer Soren’s abilities are his business, which he may or may not choose to share if you ask. And don’t bully him about it either, any of you.” Lieutenant Dunfee swept the room again, pinning each of her officers with her needle-laser gaze like captive butterflies. “Monroe, my office after briefing. Info on your current case.”

    She dismissed them, stalking from the room with thunderclouds in her eyes. Kyle found himself approaching the new guy and trying his best not to be awkward. Did he offer to shake hands? Was it safe? Would the guy flinch like so many people did at the sight of Kyle’s scarred hands? Soren was even taller up close, six-foot-three of lean inscrutability, his blue eyes startlingly bright against smoky bronze skin.

    “Um, hi, I’m Kyle Monroe.” Kyle fidgeted when Soren didn’t offer his hand either. “You’re with me, I guess. I’ll show you our spot in the squad room.”

    Soren followed him silently and Kyle was starting to wonder if he was like Krisk in the not-speaking department until he finally spoke in a smooth, soft baritone, making Kyle startle and miss a step. “Why do they call you Kirby?”

    “You’d hear it sooner or later, I guess.” Kyle shrugged. “It’s this thing I do, absorbing other people’s talents temporarily. If they’re close to me. Or touch me. Like Kirby, the little pink dude in the video game.”

    “Ah.”

    Just that? Soren didn’t edge away, or change expression at all. Was he made of stone? “It’s a thing. Everyone here has a thing.”

    After a few more steps, Soren asked, “Always?”

    “What…oh, was I always like this? Who knows? I mean, maybe I’ve picked up stray thoughts or something, but no. It’s pretty recent. Knowing that I do this.”

    Kyle took a wide arc around Vance as he entered the squad room, pointing to the double desk in the far corner, well removed from everyone else. “That’s ours. Coffee’s over there, but you might not want that coffee. Let me grab my file and we’ll go see the lieutenant.”

    “So what’s your story, Soren?” Vance called across the squad room. “What flies your freak flag?”

    “Yeah, what do you do?” Jeff Gatling stopped ’porting his banana from one corner of his desk to the other.

    “I don’t really do anything,” Soren answered as he hefted the empty coffee pot. “Guess I’ll make fresh since I’m the new guy.”

    He opened the top to remove the filter and every human voice in the squad room yelled out, “No!”

    Most people would have startled, maybe dropped the carafe. Soren just blinked at the roomful of people gesturing wildly. He took the filter out and emptied it over the trashcan. “Why not?”

    “You don’t want to do that.” Kyle stayed by his desk, a nice safe distance from the coffee station. “That’s Larry’s job.”

    “Larry’s not keeping up then.”

    The container of sweetener packets began to rattle. It shivered across the counter and leaped to a messy end, ceramic shards skittering across the floor. The desk that Krisk and Wolf shared rose from the floor several inches and slammed back down. Wolf fled with a squeaking yelp just before the desk flipped on its side.

    Soren glanced toward Kyle. “Larry’s not a cop, is he?”

    “He is…he was! A dead cop. Larry’s a ghost. He gets ticked if anyone else makes the coffee. Put the stuff back, please!”

    “Larry?” Soren raised his voice but to all appearances remained completely unruffled. “I’m new here. I’m very sorry I invaded your jurisdiction. See? I’m putting the carafe back. Closing the top. Are we good, Larry?”

    A breeze ruffled through a stack of papers, but no further mayhem ensued. The carafe slid from its pad on the coffeemaker and floated to the water cooler where Larry, who never manifested in a visible form, whistled tunelessly while he filled the carafe.

    From his dim corner of the room, Carrington said in his dry, genteel way, “Welcome to the Island of Misfit Freaks.”

    Buy Links:

    Publisher:

    Author Bio:

    angel-martinezThe unlikely black sheep of an ivory tower intellectual family, Angel Martinez has managed to make her way through life reasonably unscathed. Despite a wildly misspent youth, she snagged a degree in English Lit, married once and did it right the first time, gave birth to one amazing son, and realized at some point that she could get paid for writing.

    Published since 2006, Angel’s cynical heart cloaks a desperate romantic. You’ll find drama and humor given equal weight in her writing and don’t expect sad endings. Life is sad enough.

    She currently lives in Delaware in a drinking town with a college problem and writes Science Fiction and Fantasy centered around gay heroes.

    Author Links:

    Website: angelmartinezauthor.weebly.com

    Facebook: www.facebook.com/amartinez2

    Twitter: @AngelMartinezrr

    Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/angelwritesmm

    Email (if you want it to be included): [email protected]

  • A More Perfect Union Blog Tour–Getting From Here to There; by Scott Coatsworth

    A More Perfect Union Blog Tour–Getting From Here to There; by Scott Coatsworth

    Today, my friend Scott Coatsworth joins us to talk about his new anthology – A More Perfect Union. Scott along with B.G Thomas, Jamie Fessenden and Michael Murphy joined forces to write short stories in honor of the first anniversary of marriage equality. The result was the A More Perfect Union anthology.  Scott talks about the fight for marriage equality from the perspective of someone who fought the battle. Take a moment to read his story and then pick up the anthology.

    -AQG

    authors

    Getting From Here To There – By Scott Coatsworth

    I just reached the end of a long journey, one that started in 1989, two years before I came out to my friends and family. That year, I attended my first gay wedding. It wasn’t so much a wedding, though, as a furtive ceremony between two gay men, held in a stand of bamboo at the Huntington Museum, surrounded protectively by three friends.

    Back then, the idea of two guys getting married was almost unthinkable. We were afraid someone would see us and make a scene. I was sure I’d never have the opportunity to marry the guy I hoped one day to love.

    I met that guy in 1992, after coming out. Mark was everything I was looking for. Handsome, kind, a reader, a guy who didn’t drink. Sweet, steady, and amazing. After two weeks we moved in together, but we never even thought about getting married. It’s hard to describe how inconceivable it was at the time.

    President Bill Clinton swept into office, and then he signed the Defense of Marriage Act in a misguided attempt to prevent a constitutional amendment against same sex marriage.

    And then Hawaii happened. The Supreme Court in the state was considering a marriage equality case. But they took forever to rule, stalling and delaying, and in the meantime, the first of what I call the Prop 8 laws was passed, banning the practice, pushed by the state’s large Mormon community. Within a couple years they were spreading like wildfire, and we watched as our chances of getting married became even slimmer.

    In 2004, two new fires were lit that would ultimately change everything. The Supreme Judicial Court made Massachusetts the first state to legalize full marriage equality. And Mayor Gavin Newsom attended the State of the Union in DC and came away angry. President Bush had announced his plan to block same sex marriage in the US Constitution, and Newsom returned home with a plan – open up City Hall to same sex couples for Valentine’s Day.

    We were one of the couples who married during that almost month-long parade of happy couples – over 3500 in all. It was an amazing time, and it was at that moment, standing atop the grand staircase, that I learned the true difference between a domestic partnership and a marriage.

    After a few months, though, our marriage license was invalidated, and the anti-same sex marriage laws kept coming.

    In 2008, we decided it was time to join the fight in earnest. We’d been to rallies and had donated money, but on January 1st, we started a blog called Gay Marriage Watch, where we chronicled the news every day about same sex marriage and LGBT rights.

    Then in June, the California Supreme Court opened a brief window of legality for same sex couples, and we were married once again, in a beautiful restaurant overlooking the Ferry Building and the Bay Bridge in San Francisco, just three days before the actual Prop 8 passed.

    That night is burned on my memory—the night Barack Obama won the presidency, and the night that California voters took the right to marriage away from us. It felt like the end, but it was just the beginning.

    From that dark night, we stood up and started to fight back. And state by state, we won, overturning the anti-same sex marriage laws.

    In June of 2014, five and a half years later, we waited for the ruling that would overturn Prop 8 and begin the demise of DOMA.

    A year later, faster than anyone imagined, DOMA fell, suddenly and permanently. It was a beautiful morning, on June 26th, 2015, when the US Supreme Court struck down the last objections, and in the blink of an eye marriage equality was legal everywhere in the United States.

    And so the marriage equality fight ended, though others continue on. I added my last post to our marriage equality blog on April 30th, 2016.

    On June 26th, marriage equality day, I closed the door in another way. My story “Flames”, about a gay couple finding their way to marriage, was released in the new Dreamspinner anthology “A More Perfect Union.” BG Thomas invited me and two other married gay authors to write our stories, our chance to put this whole battle that has spanned more than half my life in perspective.

    It’s the closing of a long chapter in my life, one I am proud to have been a part of, and the opening of a new one.

    I’m excited to see where things go from here.

    Blurbs

    coverOn June 26, 2015, the Supreme Court of the United States made a monumental decision, and at long last, marriage equality became the law of the land. That ruling made history, and now gay and lesbian Americans will grow up in a country where they will never be denied the right to marry the person they love.

    But what about the gay men who waited and wondered all of their lives if the day would ever come when they could stand beside the person they love and say “I do”?

    Here, four accomplished authors—married gay men—offer their take on that question as they explore same-sex relationships, love, and matrimony. Men who thought legal marriage was aright they would never have. Men who, unbelievably, now stand legally joined with the men they love. With this book, they share the magic and excitement of dreams that came true—in tales of fantasy and romance with a dose of their personal experiences in the mix.

    To commemorate the anniversary of full marriage equality in the US, this anthology celebrates the idea of marriage itself—and the universal truth of it that applies to us all, gay or straight.

    Someday, by B.G. Thomas

    Lucas Arrowood is walking to school on his first day of kindergarten when he meets Dalton Churchill—a boy who stops and helps him tie his shoe. He knows from that moment he is going to marry that boy one day.  “Boys can’t marry other boys,” his mother explains, but that doesn’t stop Lucas. He knows what he wants.

    He and Dalton become best friends—and then, no matter how much he resists, Dalton falls in love with Lucas. Dalton’s very conservative family can’t accept that their boy loves another boy, but finally Dalton stands up for love and for Lucas. Still, he declares he won’t marry Lucas until it is legal everywhere. He hates the “Commitment Ceremonies” gay men have. They aren’t the real thing. Why bother?

    So Lucas waits for his day. The day same-sex marriage finally becomes legal and he can be joined forever with the love of his life.

    Flames, by J. Scott Coatsworth

    Alex and Gio had a big fight, and Alex ran away. Then a fire at home destroyed the life they had built together, and threatened to take Gio away from him.

    Alex had always thought love was enough to keep them together. Why did they need wedding rings or legal certificates? But now, with Gio lost in a coma, his mother has banished Alex from his side.

    What if Alex’s voice is the only thing that can bring Gio back from the brink? Their memories are all Gio has left, and the urge to just let go is getting stronger.

    Still, nothing can keep Alex from Gio’s side. If it’s against the rules, he’ll break them. In stolen moments alone together, Alex fights to bring him back, one memory at a time.

    Destined, by Jamie Fessenden

    When Jay and Wallace first meet at an LGBTQ group, they have no idea they’ll be dating six years later. In fact, they quickly forget each other’s names. But although fate continues to throw them together, the timing is never quite right. Finally they’re both single and realize they want to be together… but now they can’t find each other! With determination and the help of mutual friends, Jay and Wallace can finally pursue the relationship they’ve both wanted for so long.

    It’s only the beginning of the battles they’ll face to build a life together.

    From disapproving family members all the way to the state legislature, Jay and Wallace’s road to happily ever after is littered with obstacles. But they’ve come too far to give up the fight.

    Jeordi and Tom, by Michael Murphy

    Living as an open, loving gay couple in the rural South isn’t easy—even today.

    When Jeordi and Tom move in together and come out to their families, Jeordi’s family does not take the news especially well. When yelling doesn’t work, they send in one sibling after another to try to separate the couple. When that fails, they call out their pastor to help Jeordi see the error of his ways. But Jeordi’s love for Tom is greater than anything they throw at them.

    When an accident sends Jeordi to the hospital, his family goes too far when they try to keep Tom from visiting his partner. Jeordi and Tom are determined to do everything in their power to gain legal protection so this can never happen again. But when a bigoted county clerk refuses to issue them a marriage license, Jeordi decides a big, bold effort is called for, which is precisely what he sets in motion so no one can ever separate him from Tom again.

    Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

     

    Cover Artist: Reese Dante

    Release Date: 6/26/16

     

    hands

    Excerpts

    Someday, by B.G. Thomas

    “The first time Lucas Arrowood saw Dalton was on his way to his first day of kindergarten. His mother was walking him to school, he was very excited, and his right shoelace was flopping, untied.

    “Baby,” said his mom. “Let’s sit down and try to tie your shoe.”

    He looked up at her, excitement temporarily quashed. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t tie his shoe. And he was supposed to be able to. His mother had tried to show him how—over and over again—but he couldn’t get the laces to go where they were supposed to go, and it just fell apart. He couldn’t do it. If his teacher found out, would they make him go home? Would he have to wait until next year? That would be horrible!

    “Hey, you can do it. It’s easy!”

    Lucas gave a little jump, turned around, and sighed as he looked into the narrow dark eyes of the most beautiful human being he had ever seen.

    “Want me to help?” the boy asked, flipping his mop of dark brown hair out of his eyes with a toss of his head. “I taught a bunch of kids last year when I was in kindergarten.”

    A bunch of kids hadn’t known how to tie their shoes? That perked up his ears. Lucas looked up at his mother.

    She smiled. “Do you want him to help?”

    Then he realized something. He did want the boy to help him. He thought he would do anything the boy wanted him to do, even ask his mom to take the training wheels off his bike (which was a big scary because he was afraid of falling and getting hurt!).

    “Sit down,” said the boy, pointing to the landscaping wall along the sidewalk.”

    Lucas sat.

    “What’s your name?” asked Lucas’s mother.

    “Dalton Churchill. Like Winston Churchill. Only it’s Dalton.”

    He smiled, and Lucas knew Dalton was the most beautiful boy on the planet.

    “Who’s Winston Churchill?” Lucas asked.

    Dalton shrugged and got down on one knee before Lucas. “I don’t know. I think he’s a minister. Okay, now, first you pull your laces up and then cross them over, like this.” Dalton demonstrated.

    “I can tie a knot,” Lucas said, wanting very much not to look like a complete dope in front of Dalton. Then he frowned. “It’s the other part I get mixed up on.”

    “That’s cool,” Dalton said, tying the knot. “Okay…. So here’s the tricky part. First you make a loop and stick it up so it looks like a tree—see?”

    Lucas nodded. He wasn’t sure the upward turned loop looked much like a tree, but he wasn’t going to tell Dalton that.

    “Then you take the other lace and wrap it around the bottom like this—like a dog running around the tree.”

    Lucas smiled. “My neighbor has a dog. His name is Super Mario.”

    “That’s a great name,” Dalton said, laughing.

    Then he finished showing Lucas how to tie his shoe.

    “Wow,” Lucas said.

    But then Dalton untied the shoe.

    “Hey!” cried Lucas.

    “Now you do it,” Dalton said. He nodded. “You can. I know you can. Easy.”

    Lucas wanted to yell, “No, I can’t!” but he quite suddenly knew he could not disappoint the pretty boy with the beautiful eyes. He sighed. What had Dalton said about a tree? He made a loop with one of the laces.

    “Just like that, but the other one. Unless you’re a southpaw.”

    Lucas looked up through his own dark bangs. “Huh?”

    “Southpaw means left-handed.”

    “Oh!” Lucas giggled. “I’m not.”

    “Tree!” Dalton ordered, brows knitted together.

    So Lucas made a loop with his shoelace.

    “Yes!” Dalton said with such enthusiasm Lucas would have thought he’d ridden down to the corner and back on his bike without training wheels. He laughed and then thought about dogs running around the base of trees. A moment later, Lucas had tied his shoe. His mother clapped.

    “Yes,” shouted Dalton. “I knew you could do it, Lucas.”

    Dalton walked the rest of the way to school with them. But even better, he also promised to walk Lucas to school the next day.

    Flames, by J. Scott Coatsworth

    Monday, September 27

    There was only this moment. This place. Alex holding Gio’s hand, gently because of the burns on the back of Gio’s arm and hand. The sounds of the breathing machine came in regular soft sighs.

    The little green box held in Alex’s other hand–and all it symbolized between them.

    All their life together had shrunk down to this moment, this place, this plea. “Please wake up, Gio. Amore mio, svegliati.”

    Sunday, September 12. Two weeks earlier

    Alex was late getting home, and he was in a foul mood from the long, difficult day at work. One of the properties he’d made a bid on had fallen through, and another client had all but called him a bald-faced liar.

    He was looking forward to getting home, taking a long hot shower, then crawling into bed.

    Alex was startled to find a whole meal, complete with wine and candles, laid out on their dining room table. Gio must have spent the whole day cooking.

    Alex was late. He’d been delayed with his angry client, and to make matters worse, his phone had up and died halfway through the afternoon and he’d been without his car charger.”

    “He was already annoyed when he walked in the door.

    “Welcome home, amore,” Gio called from the kitchen.

    “I had a hell of a day….” He caught a whiff of whatever Gio was cooking.

    “Come sit down. I’ve got everything ready.”

    The dining room looked like a Martha Stewart production of a telenovella Thanksgiving. “I’m sorry. I’m not really hungry. Things were the shits at work today.”

    “Sorry to hear that. Have a seat.” Gio grabbed his elbow and urged him toward his chair. “Food makes everything better.”

    Alex was starting to get annoyed. “Look, I’m sorry, but I’m not hungry. I just want to wash up–”

    “That’s just the job talking.” Gio took his arm again.

    “Knock it off! I’m not in the mood tonight.”

    Gio looked hurt, but Alex plowed on, too incensed to stop.

    “This isn’t some kind of June and Ward Cleaver relationship.”

    “I just–”

    “You have to let go of your stupid, unrealistic expectations of me and this relationship.”

    Gio frowned. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. Just because you had a bad day at work, there’s no reason to take it out on me.”

    He was right. But Alex couldn’t admit it. “Just leave me the fuck alone,” he said, grabbing his phone charger and storming out. He’d find somewhere else to sleep tonight.”

    Destined, by Jamie Fessenden

    1999

    Doug had seemed terrific when Jay first met him. He was funny, attentive, good in bed, and Jay’s family thought he was great. At family gatherings, that is—not in bed. They were living together in short order.

    But after two years, things weren’t going so well. They’d moved to Dover, which allowed Jay to get back in touch with some of his college friends, but their relationship seemed to grow rockier by the day. They fought constantly, though Jay was never really sure what they were fighting about. They just didn’t… fit anymore.

    But still he tried. Jay was nothing if not stubborn.

    His ties to the pagan/Wiccan world had long ago faded away, since Doug thought that stuff was weird and creepy. In fact, his ties to anything outside the tech industry had pretty much withered to nothing. He worked long hours, during which he thought about nothing but computers and switches and routers. It paid well, and raises were frequent, so he was caught up in the game his coworkers played—pushing for promotions or transfers every six months to a year in order to get salary increases. Like his coworkers, he had an E*TRADE account and spent time between support calls attempting to build a stock portfolio. He had the sense not to gamble the small amount of savings he had, but it was a fun game to play.

    But he was unsatisfied. He couldn’t quite put a finger on why until one Saturday, when he was sitting at Café on the Corner and his friend, Steve, happened by. Steve had been part of the medieval reenactment group Jay hung out with in college, and apparently he was still involved with them.

    “Michaelmas is coming up,” Steve pointed out, referring to one of the large feasts the group “put on every year. “It’s going to be at the Unitarian Church. You should come.”

    Jay couldn’t see that happening. He no longer had any of his medieval “garb,” and Doug was likely to turn his nose up at the idea of hanging out with a bunch of reenactors all day.

    Jay said diplomatically, “I’ll think about it.”

    “Well, at least stop by the monthly Wiccan group. Julie’s usually there, and Mark. A whole bunch of the old crowd. That’s tomorrow. Same place.”

    It would be nice to see some of them. And Doug was working on Sunday. “That might be fun.”

    “Are you still writing?”

    He wasn’t. Jay had written a lot of science fiction stories in college, and he’d talked about getting published one day. But that, like everything else he’d enjoyed in those days, seemed like nothing more than a dream he’d once had, barely remembered.

    This conversation was getting depressing.

    “So,” he asked, trying to change the subject, “do you still sing?”

    Steve grinned with excitement. “Yeah, man! My band is putting together our second CD. It’s gonna be awesome!”

    The more he talked about his life, the more it became clear Steve was barely scraping by financially. But he was doing what he loved, and he seemed just as happy with his life as he’d been in college. Jay, on the other hand, had plenty of money. He had a career now, a boyfriend, a new car, and a nice apartment. He’d thought he was doing okay, but now he realized exactly why he’d been feeling so uneasy. His life had veered off course. In just five years, he’d lost touch with everything that had been fun and creative in himself. He was no longer Jay.

    And he missed himself.

    Jeordi and Tom, by Michael Murphy

    “When the front door of the trailer slammed shut with a loud bang, followed immediately by an animalistic howl of rage and frustration, Tom knew Jeordi was home. He snickered and shook his head.

    “Hey, babe,” Tom called out. “I forgot this was the day you were going to visit your parents. It went that well, huh?”

    One glance at his boyfriend told Tom all he needed to know. Despite the scowl and look of anger and frustration on Jeordi’s face, it only took one glance at the man to ignite the most sensitive parts of his nervous system (and everything connected to it).

    He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Jeordi. He wasn’t handsome in the New York runway model sense, but was handsome in the real man sense. Jeordi turned heads every time he walked down the street, although he consistently missed the many glances people cast his way.

    All Jeordi saw when he looked at himself was that he wasn’t tall, and he felt his ears were too big. Tom daily told Jeordi that he was the most studly man he’d ever known—and he quietly gave thanks that the man was all his.

    Tom felt two strong hands wrap around his waist as he stood at the sink in their kitchen. Carefully setting down the dish he’d been washing, he leaned his head back against his boyfriend’s solid shoulder, brushing his smooth cheek against Jeordi’s fuzzy cheek—fuzzy not from a beard but from a strong five o’clock shadow the man dependably had every day by late afternoon. Jeordi hated it, but Tom loved it and loved rubbing one part or another of his body over the stubble.

    “Love you, babe,” Tom whispered. “I’m glad you’re home.”

    “Why?” Jeordi whispered into Tom’s ear.”

    “Why? Why? Why do I keep subjecting myself to the same crap?”

    “So, they didn’t throw their arms open and tell you they’ve joined PFLAG and ask for your advice on what to wear in the next Pride Day parade?”

    Jeordi snorted. “Um, that would be a great big no.”

    “What did they do this time?” Tom asked.

    “Prayed—and then some. They tried to have some kind of healing service to rid me of the evil that had ‘grabbed hold’ of me, to quote my mother. They said they needed to cast the devil out of my body.”

    “Oh, isn’t that special,” Tom joked.

    “Not so much,” Jeordi disagreed.

    “Was it just your parents?”

    “Oh, no. That’s what made this one more frustrating. They had their minister there. He brought a backup minister—poor kid looked freaked out just being in the same room with a known homosexual. Don’t know what he thought was going to happen.”

    “They upped the ante, I see,” Tom said.

    “Oh, there’s more,” Jeordi said.

    “More?”

    “Hell, yes. They had some of my more uptight brothers there with them this time.”

    “They succeeded in getting any of your brothers to be in the same room at the same time? How the hell did they swing that one?”

    “Don’t know. Must have been one hell of a bribe. They, of course, brought their wives, I guess to show me how a good strong Christian heterosexual marriage works. They pissed me off so much I slipped and asked Beau how he could take part in something like that when he’d been off screwing half the women in the county. He didn’t appreciate it. I guess his wife didn’t know he was a hound dog she needed to keep on a tighter leash.”

    Tom stopped what he was doing and dropped his head back, deep in thought. “Hmm, your brother Beau would look damned good in a collar—and naked,” he said. “Now, if you maybe added a blindfold, put him on his knees with his hands cuffed behind his back—now that’s just freaking hot. Maybe I should call his wife and give her a few suggestions. How do you think she’d take that? I’d be doing it strictly to help her out since I doubt she’d ever come up with an idea like that on her own. And of course I’d need to be there to help her, you know, to consult.”

    “Don’t go there,” Jeordi warned with a chuckle. Beau was beautiful, but unfortunately he knew it and wasn’t at all opposed to spreading his beauty around to any and all women who’d have him. “At least that got the two of them out of the whole ritualistic crap my mother had planned for the weekly visit.”

    “Two down, ten to go,” Tom said.

    Tom turned around and wrapped his arms around Jeordi, kissing his neck. “I love you, babe,” he whispered into Jeordi’s ear as he held tightly to his man.

    “I’m so glad you do. My family certainly doesn’t.”

    “Oh, they love you. They just don’t understand it because the playing field has changed since you came out,” Tom said.

    Buy Links, Etc

    Dreamspinner eBook:

    Dreamspinner paperback: 

    Amazon: 

    Barnes & Noble:

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    Kobo: 

    All Romance eBooks:

    Goodreads: 

    Author Bios

     

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    B.G. Thomas

    author-thomas-bgB.G. Thomas lives in Kansas City with his husband of more than a decade and their fabulous little dog. He is lucky enough to have a lovely daughter as well as many extraordinary friends. He has a great passion for life.

    B.G. loves romance, comedies, fantasy, science fiction, and even horror—as far as he is concerned, as long as the stories are character driven and entertaining, it doesn’t matter the genre. He has gone to literature conventions his entire adult life where he’s been lucky enough to meet many of his favorite writers. He has made up stories since he was a child; it is where he finds his joy.

    In the nineties, he wrote for gay magazines but stopped because the editors wanted all sex without plot. “The sex is never as important as the characters,” he says. “Who cares what they are doing if we don’t care about them?” Excited about the growing male/male romance market, he began writing again. Gay men are what he knows best, after all—since he grew out of being a “practicing” homosexual long ago. He submitted a story and was thrilled when it was accepted in four days. Since then the stories have poured out of him. “It’s like I’m somehow making up for a lifetime’s worth of stories!”

    “Leap, and the net will appear” is his personal philosophy and his message to all. “It is never too late,” he states. “Pursue your dreams. They will come true!”

    Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/bgthomaswriter

    Website: https://bthomaswriter.wordpress.com

    Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4053647.B_G_Thomas

    Scott Coatsworth:

    author-coatsworth-j-scottScott has been writing since elementary school. After leaving writing for twenty years, Mark, his husband, told him “the only one stopping you from writing is you.”

    Since then, Scott has gone back to writing in a big way, finishing more than a dozen short stories – some new, some that he had started years before – and seeing his first sale. He’s embarking on a new trilogy, and also runs the Queer Sci Fi site, a support group for writers of gay sci fi, fantasy, and supernatural fiction.

    Mark and Scott have been together for twenty four years. They met at the Pacific Center, an LGBT center in Berkeley, California, in 1992. They dated for two weeks, and then Scott moved in with Mark, and the rest is history. They run their own business together, study Italian, and are almost never found apart.

    Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworthauthor

    Website: https://www.jscottcoatsworth.com

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

    Jamie Fessenden

    author-fessenden-jamieJamie Fessenden set out to be a writer in junior high school. He published a couple of short pieces in his high school’s literary magazine, but it wasn’t until he met his partner, Erich, almost twenty years later, that he began writing again in earnest. With Erich alternately inspiring and goading him, Jamie published his first novella in 2010, and has since published over twenty other novels and novellas.

    After legally marrying in 2010, buying a house together, and getting a dog, Jamie and Erich have settled down to life in the country, surrounded by wild turkeys, deer, and the occasional coyote. A few years ago, Jamie was able to quit the tech support job that gave him insanely high blood pressure. He now writes full-time… and feels much better.

    Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jamie.fessenden.7

    Website: https://jamiefessenden.com

    Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4476044.Jamie_Fessenden

    Michael Murphy

    author-murphy-michaelMichael Murphy met his husband Dan thirty-four years ago during a Sunday service at MCC in Washington, DC when a hot, smart man sat down beside him. Due to a shortage of hymnals they had to share.  The touch of one hand on the other in that moment was electric. Sparks flew that day. Though neither had planned it, they spent the day together followed by the night.  From that day, for more than three decades they’ve rarely been separated, each finding in the other their soul mate.

    In the District of Columbia, where they lived, marriage became possible in early March 2010.  The minute it happened they were in line to get a marriage license, only to be stumped because the license required the name of the person who was going to marry them. There was such a sudden rush of same sex couples wanting to get married that the office already had a two-month backlog before an appointment could be secured.  Since they weren’t at all convinced that the Congress wasn’t going to step in and do something stupid to take away this right, they started calling everywhere to find someone who would marry them. It might be legal, but finding someone to marry them was proving to be a challenge.

    When an article appeared in the newspaper telling of a small, local United Methodist Church that had decided to go against general church policy because marriage equality mattered deeply to them, a conversation started.  After a series of emails and phone calls, suddenly they were seated with two retired UMC ministers who were willing to risk it all to do the right thing.  A few days later, license in hand, surrounded by a handful of friends and their best dog, Shadow, they were finally legally married.

    Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/michael.murphy.9250

    Website: http://gayromancewriter.com

    Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6450548.Michael_Murphy

     

  • Cover Reveal—Werewolf’s Tale and a Druid’s Sword; by Lexi Ander

    Cover Reveal—Werewolf’s Tale and a Druid’s Sword; by Lexi Ander

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    Lexi Ander reveals the beautiful cover art of her next book titled WEREWOLF’S TALE AND A DRUID’S SWORD coming out from Less Than Three Press.
    It releases on August 31, 2016.
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    BLURB
    After he’s kicked out for being gay, still reeling from being abandoned by the man he loves, Jude goes to live with his brother Beck, who thankfully is more than happy to take him in. But Jude has other secrets he’s yet to share, for fear that even Beck will reject him, leaving him well and truly alone.
    Then he draws the attention of werewolves, and discovers that everything he thought he knew about Levi, the man who abandoned him, is a lie. But one lie leads to another, ending in a vast conspiracy that threatens to destroy everything Jude loves—and that doesn’t even begin to include the challenges that Beck is facing.
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    PRESENTING
     
    Cover Art by Aisha Akeju
    WerewolfsTaleDruidSword
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    EXCLUSIVE TEASER
     

    Someone began pounding on the front door, no pause, no stop, just a constant hard knocking. Beck was about to lose his temper. Gripping the cold rag, he stormed to the door. Not once did the knocking stall or stop. In fact, it picked up in speed gaining a frantic edge.

    Fumbling with the locks, Beck tore the door open. “What in the hell is your problem? Do you know what time of night it is?”

    A gorgeous blond stood under the stoop, his knuckles still raised to knock. Big, frightened, golden-brown eyes stared at him. It took him a moment, but he recognized Jude’s new friend, Stephen.

    “You’re Beck, aren’t you? Jude’s brother? I need to speak to you. I know it’s late, but please, I just need a moment.” Stephen spoke fast, not giving Beck a chance to reply to the initial question.

    “What about Jude? Where’s he?” Beck barked in agitation.

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    ABOUT THE AUTHOR
    AuthorPic
    Lexi has always been an avid reader, and at a young age started reading (secretly) her mother’s romances (the ones she was told not to touch). She was the only teenager she knew of who would be grounded from reading. Later, with a pencil and a note book, she wrote her own stories and shared them with friends because she loved to see their reactions. A Texas transplant, Lexi now kicks her boots up in the Midwest with her Yankee husband and her eighty-pound puppies named after vacuum cleaners.
     
    ||  Website  ||  Blog  ||  Facebook  ||  Twitter  ||  Email  ||  Amazon Author Page  ||
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    RAFFLECOPTER GIVEAWAY
     
    Winner’s Prize: $15 Amazon Gift Card
    Runner Up Prize: $10 Amazon Gift Card
    2nd Runner Up Prize: $5 Amazon Gift Card

  • Guest Post—Shadowboxing; by Anne Barwell

    Guest Post—Shadowboxing; by Anne Barwell

    Knights and Pawns

    Thanks for hosting me today.

    The line between hero and villain is not always as clear as one would think. As a writer I find it much more interesting to write villains who are convinced they’re doing the right thing. In their mind they are the hero fighting for a cause they believe in.

    In Shadowboxing—book 1 of my WWII Echoes Rising series—there are several men and a woman who have various ways of justifying their actions. The title for this blog post comes from a recurring chess theme within the story, and the fact that several of the characters enjoy the game, both on the board, and in reality.

    SS Standartenführer Karl Holm, the main antagonist in the story, is an interesting character to write. In his mind, his intentions are honourable, and he doesn’t see himself as a villain. Even when he’s interrogating his prisoners, he convinces himself that they brought their torture on themselves. After all, he gave them the opportunity to co-operate, right? He prefers to use good manners and intelligent conversation in order to get the information he requires, only stooping to distasteful violence when it is necessary. Having lost family in the last war, he has little time for traitors and is loyal to the Fatherland.

    On the other hand, his subordinate, SS Obersturmführer Reiniger is a man who enjoys violence and hurting people. He is a bully, and unfortunately in a position of power, and will use that to get revenge on those who made him lose face. I’ve written a couple of scenes from his perspective and it was a very unpleasant experience. However, the scenes flowed really well—should I worry about that?

    Margarete Huber is a different kind of foe, and although she may appear to be on a particular side, she plays her own game. She isn’t military but has family connections to the person in charge of the project that Holm and Reiniger are tasked to protect. This gives her power that she has no qualms in using for personal reasons, which makes her very dangerous. She is also very manipulative, and influences people and situations from a safe place behind the scenes. Margarete likes to think she can predict everyone’s moves so when someone does something she does not expect, or turns down her advances towards them, she wants to know why. Not only that, but she wants to ensure it does not happen again.

    Which of the three would you think is the most dangerous?

    Blurb:

    Echoes Rising: Book One

    ShadowboxingBerlin, 1943. An encounter with an old friend leaves German physicist Dr. Kristopher Lehrer with doubts about his work. But when he confronts his superior, everything goes horribly wrong. Suddenly Kristopher and Michel, a member of the Resistance, are on the run, hunted for treason and a murder they did not commit. If they’re caught, Kristopher’s knowledge could be used to build a terrible weapon that could win the war.

    For the team sent by the Allies—led by Captain Bryant, Sergeant Lowe, and Dr. Zhou—a simple mission escalates into a deadly game against the Gestapo, with Dr. Lehrer as the ultimate prize. But in enemy territory, surviving and completing their mission will test their strengths and loyalties and prove more complex than they ever imagined.

     

    Buy Link:

    DSP Publications:

    Excerpt:

    Michel froze when several gunshots pierced the quiet Berlin night. “Kristopher…,” he whispered. No. Please no.

    Beside him, Matt’s head jerked up. He swore loudly. A few moments later, another lone shot followed the first couple.

    Walker and Palmer skidded to a halt, doubling back from where they’d gone on ahead.

    “Elise’s Kaffeehaus.” Walker panted, trying to speak and catch his breath simultaneously. He and Palmer appeared to be much younger than their companions; Michel wouldn’t be surprised if this was their first assignment in the field. “Gestapo….”

    “Matt….” Ken’s previous harsh timbre was replaced by something much gentler, but Matt ignored him and shook his head.

    “No.” His voice shook, his words partly echoing Michel’s thoughts. “Not Elise. Please, not her, not now.” Matt leaned heavily against a nearby lamppost, his eyes glazed over.

    “We don’t know who fired the shots, sir.” Palmer took over the explanation. At least he could pass for German if he stayed quiet and kept his head down. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that, but there were no guarantees as to which way a particular mission might go. Michel had had that fact reinforced on more occasions than he cared to remember, but too many lives depended on them with this one. It had to succeed. “The Kaffeehaus is swarming with Gestapo, but there is no sign of anyone else.”

    “We need to ascertain precisely what has happened before we move in. In order to do that, we will have to get closer.” Ken took charge—although Matt was the ranking officer, he appeared to be in no state to give orders. Whatever his relationship to Elise, this was not the time for him to be dwelling on what might be happening in the Kaffeehaus. Getting Kristopher and the plans to safety was still their priority.

    “It’s damn obvious that someone’s been shot.” Matt visibly pulled himself together, although his voice hitched slightly before the word “shot.” “We need to get in there quickly in order to minimize damage. Gabriel, take Walker and Palmer and secure the back entrance. Lowe, Zhou, you’re with me. We’ll secure the front.”

    “What if there’s another exit?” asked Liang, disengaging the safety on his handgun.

    Matt shook his head, his matter-of-fact tone verifying prior knowledge of both the Kaffeehaus and its owner. “There isn’t. Not unless Elise has done some major renovations, which I doubt.”

    “We’re probably more than outnumbered by Holm and his men.” Michel pointed out the inadequacies of the plan. “It would be more sensible to size up the situation first, as Lowe suggested, before we move in. The shot might be merely a warning. We don’t know for certain that someone is injured. If Dr. Lehrer and Elise have been captured, it would pay to wait until….” His voice trailed off, a grotesque image entering his mind—Kristopher lying on the floor of the Kaffeehaus, his fair hair stained red with the blood dripping from a single bullet hole to the temple. Michel quickly pushed it away. Holm needed Kristopher. He wouldn’t risk killing him. Elise could be used to ensure Kristopher’s cooperation. It made more sense that they were both still alive.

    “I don’t care.” Matt’s previous calm was replaced by an edge of desperation that made him both unpredictable and dangerous. “I’m not just sitting here and waiting. To hell with procedure.”

    About the Author:

    Anne Barwell lives in Wellington, New Zealand. She shares her home with two cats who are convinced that the house is run to suit them; this is an ongoing “discussion,” and to date it appears as though the cats may be winning.

    In 2008 she completed her conjoint BA in English Literature and Music/Bachelor of Teaching. She has worked as a music teacher, a primary school teacher, and now works in a library. She is a member of the Upper Hutt Science Fiction Club and plays violin for Hutt Valley Orchestra.

    She is an avid reader across a wide range of genres and a watcher of far too many TV series and movies, although it can be argued that there is no such thing as “too many.” These, of course, are best enjoyed with a decent cup of tea and further the continuing argument that the concept of “spare time” is really just a myth.

    Anne’s books have received honorable mentions four times and reached the finals three times in the Rainbow Awards.  She has also been nominated twice in the Goodreads M/M Romance Reader’s Choice Awards—once for Best Fantasy and once for Best Historical.

    Where to find her:

    Blog: http://anne-barwell.livejournal.com/

    Website: http://annebarwell.wordpress.com/

    Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/anne.barwell.1

    Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/115084832208481414034/posts

    Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4862410.Anne_Barwell

    Dreamspinner Press Author Page:

    http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/AuthorArcade/anne-barwell

    DSP Publications Author Page:

    https://www.dsppublications.com/authors/anne-barwell-49

     

  • Hector and Anatolius; by Vanessa Mulberry—Blog Tour and Giveaway

    Hector and Anatolius; by Vanessa Mulberry—Blog Tour and Giveaway

    I’ll admit one of my favorite subjects in college was mythology. Hell, Thor was my favorite comic well before Chris Hemsworth assumed the role for the movie. So this book ticks off a few boxes for me. Check it out, read the excerpt and see if it doesn’t tick a few off for you too.

    Title: Hector and Anatolius
    Author: Vanessa Mulberry
    Series: Trojan Men #1
    Release Date: May 9th 2016
    Genre: Historical MM Romance, Paranormal

    HectorBookCover1

     

    Blurb:

    Hector has been a dutiful son and prince his whole life until his father orders him to marry. The Trojan was meant for no woman, and when he meets a handsome youth named Anatolius, he is more determined than ever to rule one day with a man at his side. However, after he is betrayed by his brother Paris his fate seems unavoidable. Hector needs all the courage he has learned in battle, and the assistance of a goddess, to win the hand of the man he loves.

    This is a gay (MM) romance novel set prior to the events of the Trojan War. It depicts romantic and sexual love between two men in a broadly tolerant society.

    Hector and Anatolius is the debut novel of British author, Vanessa Mulberry.

    Buy links:

    Amazon US 

    Amazon UK

    Excerpt:

    After the meal, Hector drew the lad to him, and they relaxed on the shared kline to talk about their histories and their beliefs. Both drank strong wine, but Hector watched Anatolius carefully, mindful of its dizzying effects. “Just a little,” he said when Anatolius asked one of the servants for a third cup. “I won’t touch you if you’re sotted, and you will have to wait another day for my attentions.”

    Anatolius appeared embarrassed, but when the servant stepped away, he whispered, “Thank you. I don’t want to wait.”

    When the conversation lulled, Hector scooped his guest up and carried him from the room.

    Anatolius put his arm around Hector’s neck and rested his head against the prince’s powerful shoulder. He laughed and said, “I will walk to your bedroom if that is where we are going. I’ll run if you like.”

    Hector strengthened his grip, pulling him a little closer. “You may race me there another day, but tonight you go in my arms.”

    “Don’t you think you can beat me?”

    “It wouldn’t worry me if you did. I carry you because I want it to be known I will be your man tonight. Tomorrow I will follow you to the bed if you wish.”

    Soon they reached his private apartment. It was a magnificent space: large and airy, with room on one side for cozier entertaining than the andron permitted and a soft bed for afterward. It led onto a terrace, which looked down over the city, and, as the night was warm, the imposing doors to it stood open, their silver casings glowing faintly in the moonlight.

    The lamps were already lit, illuminating murals dedicated to Eros. Hector set Anatolius down and saw the lad’s eyes widen as he looked around at the walls. “Gods,” he murmured, “is this a shrine or a bedchamber?”

    Hector had worshiped a lot of men in that room, but he didn’t think the pictures so unusual. He reminded himself that Anatolius hadn’t been in as many beds as him.

    “Do you want to pray? I don’t usually conduct rituals in the palace, but we can if you like.”

    Anatolius continued to stare at the walls. Hector saw his eyes rest on an image of two men making love. One was bent over, being penetrated by the other who kissed his back.

    “Do you think we should? I want my first time to be pleasurable.”

    “You needn’t ask Eros for such a blessing. I will ensure that.”

    About the Author:
    Vanessa Mulberry lives in England with her husband and daughter. Her achievements are numerous and of no interest to anyone reading this. Her hobbies include cheap alcohol and romance novels. Growing up, Vanessa dreamed of becoming Mr. T, but the position has not yet fallen vacant. She has settled for being a romance novelist instead.

    Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

    Tour Stops

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  • Lime and Tangerine; by Kevin Caucher—Excerpt Tour and Giveaway

    Lime and Tangerine; by Kevin Caucher—Excerpt Tour and Giveaway

     

    Today I’m truly please to have Kevin Caucher as a guest on the blog. I ‘met’ Kevin years ago on the Gay Author’s site and today I get to help host his debut novella from Wayward Ink Publishing. It’s really a good day when people you knew ‘when’ have made it. So please check out the information below and then hopefully go buy the book and support Kevin as he begins his career as an author.

    lime-250

    Title: Lime and Tangerine
    Author: Kevin Caucher
    Genre: Gay Romance, Science Fiction
    Length: Novella
    Publisher: Wayward Ink Publishing

    Synopsis

    The post-apocalyptic world has changed. Colors have changed.

    The skies are now red, and the seas fandango pink.

    There are those who’ve acquired skills as “squinters”. By narrowing their eyes, they can see people in different colors—colors by which they can define their mood.

    Senlin was born a squinter. A child of the foster system, the lack of love  has left him with casual views on sex.

    When Sicong recruits him into SQX, a squinter organization, Senlin wants nothing more than to jump his bones, but Sicong’s detachment makes Senlin believe his feelings aren’t reciprocated.

    Senlin and Sicong’s relationship begins to grow as they undertake missions together.

    That is, until an enemy of SQX turns his attention upon them.

    Lime and Tangerine Cover

    Excerpt:

    I worked in a pub, Tingo; not that the pub knew about my business. I was a “part time drug dealer”, with part time meaning I helped drug dealers determine who in the pub was in need and from whom the dealers needed to stay away. I never did drugs myself, but I helped out when I was in need of cash. The job was easy. I’d squint my eyes and those in orange would be the ones to approach, instead of those rare yellow ones. It worked every time. From what I’ve heard, many of those yellow ones were undercover cops. The dealers often got caught when I didn’t help.

    Away from the occasional “helping-out” in the pub, my real interest there was actually the cute guys. I got great satisfaction from looking at all the hot men, talking to them, and consequently taking them to bed. It wasn’t always easy, as one would know, but it was so much simpler with my “special ability”. My prey would also be orange when I squinted, but a less reddish shade, more like tangerine. When I spotted one I liked, I’d squint my eyes and whisper to myself, and almost to him, “You want to come home with me.” In no more than ten minutes, the man I wanted would magically come to buy me a drink, and we’d later end up at his place or mine, doing what I loved. That, again, worked every time.

    Needless to say, many people saw me as cocky. I didn’t mind. I worked leisurely and almost always got what I wanted. What’s not to be cocky about?

    Buy Links

    WIP: http://www.waywardinkpublishing.com/product/lime-and-tangerine-by-kevin-caucher/
    Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01EB1AHI8/
    Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01EB1AHI8/
    Amazon AU: http://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B01EB1AHI8/
    Amazon DE: http://www.amazon.de/dp/B01EB1AHI8/
    ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-limeandtangerine-2024618-145.html

    Book Trailer

    Giveaway

    Prizes: Two $2.99 WIP Gift Cards

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    Lime And Tangerine 3d cover

    About the author

    Growing up in China, KEVIN CAUCHER never thought he’d grow up loving to write; never did he expect himself ending up in Australia either. He is now happily partnered in NSW Illawarra area and writing.

    Kevin’s writing is mainly influenced by his growing up as a gay Chinese; he also sometimes pops out totally random stories that has nothing to do with his growing up.

    Besides his passion for writing, Kevin has also opened a cafe in December 2015. “There, the cliché of authors writing in a cafe.”

    KEVIN CAUCHER can be found at:

    Website: kevincaucher.wordpress.com
    Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/kevincaucher1

  • Cover Reveal: A Kind of Romance; by Lane Hayes

    Cover Reveal: A Kind of Romance; by Lane Hayes

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    Lane Hayes reveals the beautiful cover art of her next book titled A KIND OF ROMANCE coming out from Dreamspinner Press.

    It releases on June 06, 2016.

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    BLURB

    Zeke Gulden is a ruthless Wall Street exec. His hard-edged, no non-sense attitude has served him well in the cutthroat business world, but less so in his personal life. When he finds out his ex-boyfriend cheated on him with a coworker, Zeke can’t let go – not until he finds a way to get even. However, his meddlesome father has other ideas. The new hire at the family-owned bagel store is somewhat colorful, but his dad is sure he’s the perfect man for Zeke.

    Benny Ruggieri is a fiercely proud New Yorker who dreams of making it big as a costume designer in the theatre. In the meantime, he’s working two part-time jobs in the food biz. When his new boss sets him up with his successful son, Benny has zero expectations. If nothing else, he figures he can entertain himself by making the uptight businessman squirm. Instead, the two become unlikely friends with an inexplicable attraction they can’t ignore. Benny might be the one to help Zeke set aside his quest for revenge, if he’s willing to let go and forgive what he can’t forget… and give in to an unexpected kind of romance.

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    PRESENTING

    Cover Art by Aaron Anderson

    KindofRomance[A]FS

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    EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT

    He moved like a dancer one minute and seemed to shift nervously in his chair like a kid the next. He was fascinating in the way odd people could be at times.

    Read more exclusive excerpts on –

    :: Rick R. Reed :: MM Book Escape :: Gay Book Reviews :: :: Bayou Book Junkie :: The Purple Rose Tea House :: Diverse Reader :: Sue Brown :::: TTC Books and More :: Cia’s Stories :: BFD Book Blog :: Alpha Book Club :: Man2ManTastic :::: Carly’s Book Reviews :: Love Bytes Reviews :: Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents :::: Wicked Faeries Tales And Reviews :: Lea’s Book Blog :: JP Barnaby :: Loving Without Limits :: The Day Before You Came :: MM Good Book Reviews :: The Kimi Chan Experience ::Cheekypee Reads and Reviews :: Unquietly Me ::

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    PRE-ORDER LINK

    Dreamspinner Press (eBook)

    Dreamspinner Press (Paperback)

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    ABOUT THE AUTHOR

    Lane Hayes is grateful to finally be doing what she loves best. Writing full time! It’s no secret Lane loves a good romance novel. An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to a well-told love story with beautifully written characters. These days she prefers the leading roles both be men! Lane discovered the M/M genre a few years ago and was instantly hooked. Her first novel was a finalist in the 2013 Rainbow Awards and her third received an Honorable Mention in the 2014 Rainbow Awards. She loves travel, chocolate, and wine (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband and the coolest yellow lab ever in an almost empty nest.

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  • Locked; by Anyta Sunday – Blog Tour and Giveaway:

    Locked; by Anyta Sunday – Blog Tour and Giveaway:

    There are some authors who you read and say, I wish I were that good. Anyta Sunday is one of those authors. Now I can admit to being a tad biased, I mean, we wrote a book together (two really) and she and her family have been to dinner at my house, but I read her books and sigh. So it I was thrilled to hear she wrote a NA fantasy series (cause we all know I love fantasy stories) and I’m even more thrilled to be able to share it with everyone.

    Anyta answered a few questions, came with an excerpt and is having a giveaway.  Check it out and then go buy the book.

    -AQG

    AuthorInterview

    Tell us about you and your writing:

    Soon a mother of two, I’m going to be juggling lots of babies. Both the real and the book kind! I love writing stories and trying out different genres, and I’ve been so lucky to meet so many amazing people in the writing world. Like Andrew Q. Gordon, who has been so wonderful over the years helping me develop as an author, and who is hosting me on his website today! Thanks!

    Tell us about Locked:

    The Telluric people live in the four hidden kingdoms: Summer, Winter, Spring and Autumn, tasked with keeping Earth’s seasons in balance. Forced into hiding during the crusades, their lore burned to ashes alongside many loved ones, the Tellurics work their magic unremembered by our world.

    Locked starts in the present time, exploring the society of these kingdoms through the eyes of warriors, princes, and commoners. Times are tense in the kingdoms with rebels verging on uprising against the royals, and our main characters Rye, Cerdic, Drake, and Kaitlyn are right in the middle of it.

    Introduce us to your MC:

    Locked
    * Art by Maria Gandolfo (Renflowergrapx)

    This story has four alternating point-of-view characters and we see events play out through all four of their eyes, however, the main character is Rye Cunnings, the lost prince of the summer kingdom. He’s a bit of a loner—has only one good friend who gets snatched by a dragon—and he believes he’s crazy. Why else does he have these strange markings on his skin. And dragons? Surely he must be seeing things . . .

    Over the course of the first book, Rye learns about his true Telluric heritage, and is caught up in the lies, deceit and injustices of his new world.

    What inspired you to write this series?

    Originally the idea come to me via a prompt from the lovely Mandy at the 2014 Bristol Meet. It was originally intended to be a short story, but over the years I got carried away with the world-building and it grew into a trilogy. Locked is book one.

    Tell us something not in the blurb:

    Lots is happening that I couldn’t fit in the blurb! Lol. Unfortunately, most of it would be a spoiler to say here. However, I can say that amongst the fantasy there are two gay love stories running through the trilogy and one lesbian one. They are all very slow-burning relationships with friends-to-lovers and enemies-to-lovers developments.

    What’s next – can you share a bit about the next book in the series? 

    I’m in planning stages. That means, I have an outline of what will happen in the next two books and I have set ideas for key scenes, but I’m still fine-tuning the plan before I start with writing it. The scope of the second book is large and I want to do it justice. I can say that there are more twists and turns to come, ohh, and book two moves from Gatreau (the gateway between the Earth and Telluric realm) into the four kingdoms. And readers can look forward to more dragon-warrior action!

    AboutTheBook

    Locked-fTITLE: Locked

    SERIES: Telluric Realm #1

    AUTHOR: Anyta Sunday

    COVER ARTIST: Natasha Snow

    LENGTH: 98,000 words

    RELEASE DATE: April 26, 2016

    BLURB: A curse threatens the Winter Kingdom.

    A brother is turned to ice.

    A rebel uprising is on the horizon.

    Marble-maker Rye Cunnings is at the center of it all—and doesn’t know it.

    He doesn’t know he’s the lost summer prince. Doesn’t know his blood can unlock Winter’s curse. Doesn’t know why the marbles he makes flutter with magic. All he thinks is that he’s crazy. That he sees things others don’t, like dragons and strange markings on his skin.

    But when a dark dragon snatches away Rye’s only friend Milo, he is forced to face the crazy in his life and figure out a way to bring Milo back.

    Help comes in the form of Cerdic Leit, a warrior who finds Rye to take him “home” to the Telluric Realm and their kind. All Rye has to do is follow him into Gatreau, the gateway to the four Telluric kingdoms, and all his questions will be answered.

    In the hopes of saving Milo, Rye steps into this new and dangerous world. A world where he learns of the Tellurics and their Hansian foes. A world that is swept up in a bitter battle of justice and hate.

    And a world that won’t let Rye leave again.
    Excerpt

    Rye Cunnings shivered and hoofed it down the cobblestone road, fixed on the slice of his marble store ahead. This was just another morning. Just another morning.

    A drizzly dawn fingered through the low-hanging mist creeping along Bristol’s narrow streets. Lamppost lights flickered and blinked out, sucking their murky reflections from deep puddles. Rain hit Rye’s neck and face and the palm he pressed against his chest. The drops snaked down his sleeve and mixed with the blood at his wrist. It tingled, and Rye dabbed his cuff over the cut—a circle intersected with twelve loops.

    A cut that he’d gouged out with his keys, following the shimmery pattern that had marked his skin for as long as he could remember.

    Mist lurked over the Marvel Marbles store sign, thickening over the tattoo parlor and barber cushioning it on either side.

    Inside was safe. He just needed to get inside.

    He jogged over the road for the bright blue door beckoning him home. Each step jarred through his body to his aching head. He just needed to touch one of the marbles he made.

    Key in his good hand, he sank it into the lock and twisted until the bar snapped back.

    A figure prowled out from the shelter of the parlor entrance.

    Rye choked back a gasp, then let out a relieved laugh. Milo. Just Milo.

    “Stealthy as a cat, you are.”

    “Purrrrrr.”

    Milo smirked and slunk to his side, raindrops weaving through day-old stubble to the cleft in his chin. He studied Rye and lifted an eyebrow. “And where’ve you been?”

    Doesn’t matter. Get inside!

    Rye feigned nonchalance. “A walk.” A drug-induced, crazy person one. “Just a walk.”

    He beckoned Milo inside, but he tilted his chin skyward and let the rain fall on his face. A small smile played at his lips. “And a mighty good morning for one. Fresh, today is. Invigorating. Where’d ya go?”

    Where? Where he always regained consciousness: the local cemetery at the church ruin. Every week the same time, the same place, and always surrounded by a sea of daisies. “Just . . . about.”

    Clouds rippled, growing darker. Rye sucked in sharply, grabbed Milo’s arm and steered him inside. He shut the door and sank back against the glass.

    Milo strutted through the store, running fingers over jars of comets, cat’s eyes, peacocks and milky ways. Hundreds of jars filled the shelves on his walls. Sparklers, corkscrews, aces. Hundreds of colors glittered without light. Aquamarine, butterscotch yellow, magenta, and every shade in between.

    Rye caught his breath and let the colors calm him. In a couple of hours the grandfather clock tucked between shelves would chime nine and kids would press their noses to the window and fog the glass as they took in the wonder of his store. The day would whip by with smiles and laughter. Then it’ll be sundown again, thank God.

    Milo faced him, casting a look at his mud-crusted jeans. Rye tucked his bloodstained sleeve behind him. “You look like regurgitated hell, pudding.”

    “And you wonder why I never let you into my bed.”

    “You couldn’t handle me, love.”

    Rye gripped the wooden “shut” sign as he peered through the rain-splotched glass to the sky. Milo came to his side, staring out the window with him.

    “A bad sign, huh?”

    Rye startled. “What?”

    “The weather. Means less customers, right?”

    “Customers. Right.” His head pounded, his teeth ached. A marble. He needed one now. He shifted away from the windows but Milo planted a forearm on his shoulder.

    “You seem on edge, Rye. Lock up for the morning. We’ll go out.”

    Out? He shook his head. “Not today.”

    A dark shape darted behind the gaps in the clouds. A shiver scuttled down Rye’s spine and he stepped back. Milo moved with him, oblivious to the danger that lurked out there.

    “I need to make marbles,” Rye croaked.

    “What you need is a day off, friend.”

    “Haven’t made a marble in two days.”

    “We could go to the carnival, hop on the Ferris wheel. Might even see above these clouds today.”

    “How about some green tea?”

    Milo pulled away, and Rye scampered across the store to his special marbles behind the counter.

    “All right,” Milo said. “I’m going to be a bloody wanker and just say it: you don’t have a social life, mate. You never party. No one visits.”

    “I’ve plenty of—”

    “Customers don’t count.” Milo skulked closer. “Far as I can see, I’m the only friend you have. And that makes you one hell of a poor bastard.”

    A sharp pang shot up Rye’s temple and he hissed, and scanned the middle shelf. He withdrew the largest jar, uncorked it, and dunked his fingers into the mass of silver swirls. Relief fingered up his arms, soothing the pain in his head and the ache from Milo’s advice.

    He pocketed a marble.

    Over the counter, Milo pointed at Rye’s bloodstained sleeve. “What happened, then?”

    Rye resisted the urge to stare at his wrist. The cut never stayed long, would be nothing but faintly-scarred lines by now. Opening the door to his kitchen and marble-making workshop, he threw a hurried lie over his shoulder.

    “It’s nothing. Had a raspberry smoothie.”

    In the kitchen nook before his workshop, Rye picked up a half-filled pot of tea. Behind him came the clacking of boots, then a hand clamped over his shoulder, urging him around. Cold tea spilled out of the nozzle to the floor between them.

    “What are you—?”

    Milo pushed up Rye’s sleeve and revealed the circular scar, traced with dry blood. “How exactly did you have that raspberry smoothie?”

    “Y-you wouldn’t understand.”

    “Don’t underestimate me, I have vast, comprehendy abilities.”

    Rye’s throat was tight. “I’m crazy, Milo. Certifiable.” He lifted the pot. “Green tea?”

    Milo gently drew his black-painted nails around and over the mark. “You and green bloody tea.” He pulled Rye’s sleeve down. “I’ll have a cuppa.”

    With a shaky hand, Rye poured them both a cup. Milo pinched his nose, downed his tea, and set the cup in the sink. “Ugh.”

    Rye sipped his, then put it down. It didn’t settle his churning stomach.

    “Now make me a marble, friend,” Milo said with a wink, and took out the pendant hanging under his shirt. “One with a bit of me in it.” He snapped off a thin corner and handed Rye the tiny wedge.

    Rye stared at the piece on his palm. So small, so horribly scratched, and yet it warmed his entire hand. He clamped his fingers over it.

    “Got any cash?”

    “Put it on my tab.”

    “I love it when I do work and no one pays me.” He moved into his workshop and Milo followed behind. “Reminds me of my last foster home.”

    “Said so dryly. That’s exactly why I like you.” Milo flung himself on the stained brown couch at the flank of the room and slipped his hands behind his head. “I’ll lie here and share my woeful problems while you warm your glory hole. God, I love marbling.”

    Rye tossed a fiber blanket at him. “I work with a torch.”

    “Go on then, light up. Make magic.”

    Swallowing, Rye glanced at Milo, who stared at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes. Make magic. He’d thought the same thing himself a thousand times. The way his marbles soothed his anxiety, or seemed to open locked doors, or throbbed warmly in his grip like they held secrets of who he was—what he was.

    “I don’t make magic,” Rye said carefully.

    Milo turned his head, waggling his brows. “Marvel me, then. Make me a nicer set of balls than I already have. Or better yet, make a marble that solves all my problems.”

    “Such as cockiness?”

    “Don’t go messing with anything starting with cock. All else is fair play.”

    “Your assery it is then.”

    Milo snorted.

    “Entertain me with these oh-so woeful problems.” Make me forget mine.

    “I’m too smart for my own good,” Milo said with a smirk. “And it’s going to cost me.”

    “So dramatic.”

    Milo looked pointedly toward Rye’s wrist.

    “Point taken,” Rye said.

    Milo’s phone rang and he swung off the couch. “You get to making that marble,” he said, ducking through the door. “I’ll be back.”

    Rye took a sparkly gold glass rod from the jars on the shelf, bumping the small velvet pouch of marble monstrosities at the end. They’d been Milo’s attempts at marbling, pockmarked and pitiful. Yet he’d not brought himself to throw them away. They called to him with a magic of their own, the magic of a hundred shared laughs between them. Laughs that had been few-and-far-between before Milo had come into his life a year ago.

    Rye set the melting glass next to the wedge of pendant. What style did Milo want? Did he wish his marble to glitter? To glow? To be dotted with silver?

    He listened for Milo and was met with nothing but the creaking of his store door. Where had Milo gone to take his call? Rye shuffled to the kitchen. Empty. He checked the store.

    “Milo?”

    A breeze swept through the room. The front door was partially open and rain was pooling at the floor. Had Milo taken his call outside? Or had he left, like sometimes he did, without so much as a goodbye?

    At the store window, Rye looked outside. The cloud had thickened. It hung low over shop roofs and gutters, only a few feet above the three umbrella-toting pedestrians huddled at the bus stop. Milo was strutting down the middle of the street toward the store, ash blond and soaked.

    Rye waved.

    The cloud burst, plumes pelting toward the ground, and a large winged body swooped down the street toward them.

    Dragon.

    Rye’s heart seized in his chest; he jerked his bloodied arm across his face and peered at the beast again, at its long snout, horns, and black scales, the arrowhead tail snaking behind it, whipping up gusts. The dragon dipped and umbrellas jerked, inverting into black poppies. Their owners laughed.

    Rye ached to be one of those men, ignorant of the terror flying over them, of the dragon stretching its forelegs, clawed talons aimed at—

    Milo!

    Rye tried to shout but his voice was lost in the tight clutch of his throat.

    The dragon whipped past the window. Wind surged and the door banged against the wall shelves, smashing a jar, glass shards and red marbles raining to the floor.

    Rye shrank back into the shadows, shaking as the dragon snatched his friend and lifted into the clouds. Words echoed in his head, soft, placating…

    Shhh. He won’t get you.

    BuyLinks

    Amazon US

    Amazon UK

    AuthorBio

    A born and raised New Zealander from Wellington, I’ve been exploring the literary world since I started reading Roald Dahl as a kid. Stories have been piling up in my head ever since. Fast forward to my mid-twenties and jump a few countries (Germany, America, and back again), I started to put them to paper.

    My genre of choice is romance, both adult and YA, gay and straight. You can take a closer look at my books, available as e-books for download in many formats!

    When I’m not pushing my characters deeper into adventure, I chase my son around the house and fight my two comical cats for the desk chair.

    Since 2014, I’m also part of CritShop Literary Services, specializing in writing workshops and editorial services for LGBT fiction.

    || Website || Facebook || Twitter ||

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    TourSchedule

    May 3: MM Good Book Reviews

    May 4: Author J Scott Coatsworth

    May 5: The Land of Make Believe

    May 6: Bayou Book Junkie

    May 9: Loving Without Limits

    May 10: Cia’s Stories

    May 11: Louise Lyons

    May 12: The Purple Rose Tea House

    May 13: Unquietly Me

    May 16: Alpha Book Club

    May 17: The Novel Approach :: Hearts on Fire

    May 18: Molly Lolly: Reader, Reviewer, Lover of Words :: Drops of Ink

    May 19: Love Bytes Reviews

    May 20: MM Book Escape

  • Release Day—Locked; by Anyta Sunday

    Release Day—Locked; by Anyta Sunday

    Today, my friend Anyta Sunday has release her latest book. If you’ve never read one of her books, you should, she’s amazing. Locked is the first book in her new Young Adult, Epic Fantasy series, Telluric Realm. That this is book one in a series is enough to make Tuesday almost cool.  🙂

    AboutTheBook

    Locked-fTITLE: Locked

    SERIES: Telluric Realm #1

    AUTHOR: Anyta Sunday

    COVER ARTIST: Natasha Snow

    LENGTH: 98,000 words

    RELEASE DATE: April 26, 2016

    BLURB: A curse threatens the Winter Kingdom.

    A brother is turned to ice.

    A rebel uprising is on the horizon.

    Marble-maker Rye Cunnings is at the center of it all—and doesn’t know it.

    He doesn’t know he’s the lost summer prince. Doesn’t know his blood can unlock Winter’s curse. Doesn’t know why the marbles he makes flutter with magic. All he thinks is that he’s crazy. That he sees things others don’t, like dragons and strange markings on his skin.

    But when a dark dragon snatches away Rye’s only friend Milo, he is forced to face the crazy in his life and figure out a way to bring Milo back.

    Help comes in the form of Cerdic Leit, a warrior who finds Rye to take him “home” to the Telluric Realm and their kind. All Rye has to do is follow him into Gatreau, the gateway to the four Telluric kingdoms, and all his questions will be answered.

    In the hopes of saving Milo, Rye steps into this new and dangerous world. A world where he learns of the Tellurics and their Hansian foes. A world that is swept up in a bitter battle of justice and hate.

    And a world that won’t let Rye leave again.
    Excerpt

     

    Rye Cunnings shivered and hoofed it down the cobblestone road, fixed on the slice of his marble store ahead. This was just another morning. Just another morning.

    A drizzly dawn fingered through the low-hanging mist creeping along Bristol’s narrow streets. Lamppost lights flickered and blinked out, sucking their murky reflections from deep puddles. Rain hit Rye’s neck and face and the palm he pressed against his chest. The drops snaked down his sleeve and mixed with the blood at his wrist. It tingled, and Rye dabbed his cuff over the cut—a circle intersected with twelve loops.

    A cut that he’d gouged out with his keys, following the shimmery pattern that had marked his skin for as long as he could remember.

    Mist lurked over the Marvel Marbles store sign, thickening over the tattoo parlor and barber cushioning it on either side.

    Inside was safe. He just needed to get inside.

    He jogged over the road for the bright blue door beckoning him home. Each step jarred through his body to his aching head. He just needed to touch one of the marbles he made.

    Key in his good hand, he sank it into the lock and twisted until the bar snapped back.

    A figure prowled out from the shelter of the parlor entrance.

    Rye choked back a gasp, then let out a relieved laugh. Milo. Just Milo.

    “Stealthy as a cat, you are.”

    “Purrrrrr.”

    Milo smirked and slunk to his side, raindrops weaving through day-old stubble to the cleft in his chin. He studied Rye and lifted an eyebrow. “And where’ve you been?”

    Doesn’t matter. Get inside!

    Rye feigned nonchalance. “A walk.” A drug-induced, crazy person one. “Just a walk.”

    He beckoned Milo inside, but he tilted his chin skyward and let the rain fall on his face. A small smile played at his lips. “And a mighty good morning for one. Fresh, today is. Invigorating. Where’d ya go?”

    Where? Where he always regained consciousness: the local cemetery at the church ruin. Every week the same time, the same place, and always surrounded by a sea of daisies. “Just . . . about.”

    Clouds rippled, growing darker. Rye sucked in sharply, grabbed Milo’s arm and steered him inside. He shut the door and sank back against the glass.

    Milo strutted through the store, running fingers over jars of comets, cat’s eyes, peacocks and milky ways. Hundreds of jars filled the shelves on his walls. Sparklers, corkscrews, aces. Hundreds of colors glittered without light. Aquamarine, butterscotch yellow, magenta, and every shade in between.

    Rye caught his breath and let the colors calm him. In a couple of hours the grandfather clock tucked between shelves would chime nine and kids would press their noses to the window and fog the glass as they took in the wonder of his store. The day would whip by with smiles and laughter. Then it’ll be sundown again, thank God.

    Milo faced him, casting a look at his mud-crusted jeans. Rye tucked his bloodstained sleeve behind him. “You look like regurgitated hell, pudding.”

    “And you wonder why I never let you into my bed.”

    “You couldn’t handle me, love.”

    Rye gripped the wooden “shut” sign as he peered through the rain-splotched glass to the sky. Milo came to his side, staring out the window with him.

    “A bad sign, huh?”

    Rye startled. “What?”

    “The weather. Means less customers, right?”

    “Customers. Right.” His head pounded, his teeth ached. A marble. He needed one now. He shifted away from the windows but Milo planted a forearm on his shoulder.

    “You seem on edge, Rye. Lock up for the morning. We’ll go out.”

    Out? He shook his head. “Not today.”

    A dark shape darted behind the gaps in the clouds. A shiver scuttled down Rye’s spine and he stepped back. Milo moved with him, oblivious to the danger that lurked out there.

    “I need to make marbles,” Rye croaked.

    “What you need is a day off, friend.”

    “Haven’t made a marble in two days.”

    “We could go to the carnival, hop on the Ferris wheel. Might even see above these clouds today.”

    “How about some green tea?”

    Milo pulled away, and Rye scampered across the store to his special marbles behind the counter.

    “All right,” Milo said. “I’m going to be a bloody wanker and just say it: you don’t have a social life, mate. You never party. No one visits.”

    “I’ve plenty of—”

    “Customers don’t count.” Milo skulked closer. “Far as I can see, I’m the only friend you have. And that makes you one hell of a poor bastard.”

    A sharp pang shot up Rye’s temple and he hissed, and scanned the middle shelf. He withdrew the largest jar, uncorked it, and dunked his fingers into the mass of silver swirls. Relief fingered up his arms, soothing the pain in his head and the ache from Milo’s advice.

    He pocketed a marble.

    Over the counter, Milo pointed at Rye’s bloodstained sleeve. “What happened, then?”

    Rye resisted the urge to stare at his wrist. The cut never stayed long, would be nothing but faintly-scarred lines by now. Opening the door to his kitchen and marble-making workshop, he threw a hurried lie over his shoulder.

    “It’s nothing. Had a raspberry smoothie.”

    In the kitchen nook before his workshop, Rye picked up a half-filled pot of tea. Behind him came the clacking of boots, then a hand clamped over his shoulder, urging him around. Cold tea spilled out of the nozzle to the floor between them.

    “What are you—?”

    Milo pushed up Rye’s sleeve and revealed the circular scar, traced with dry blood. “How exactly did you have that raspberry smoothie?”

    “Y-you wouldn’t understand.”

    “Don’t underestimate me, I have vast, comprehendy abilities.”

    Rye’s throat was tight. “I’m crazy, Milo. Certifiable.” He lifted the pot. “Green tea?”

    Milo gently drew his black-painted nails around and over the mark. “You and green bloody tea.” He pulled Rye’s sleeve down. “I’ll have a cuppa.”

    With a shaky hand, Rye poured them both a cup. Milo pinched his nose, downed his tea, and set the cup in the sink. “Ugh.”

    Rye sipped his, then put it down. It didn’t settle his churning stomach.

    “Now make me a marble, friend,” Milo said with a wink, and took out the pendant hanging under his shirt. “One with a bit of me in it.” He snapped off a thin corner and handed Rye the tiny wedge.

    Rye stared at the piece on his palm. So small, so horribly scratched, and yet it warmed his entire hand. He clamped his fingers over it.

    “Got any cash?”

    “Put it on my tab.”

    “I love it when I do work and no one pays me.” He moved into his workshop and Milo followed behind. “Reminds me of my last foster home.”

    “Said so dryly. That’s exactly why I like you.” Milo flung himself on the stained brown couch at the flank of the room and slipped his hands behind his head. “I’ll lie here and share my woeful problems while you warm your glory hole. God, I love marbling.”

    Rye tossed a fiber blanket at him. “I work with a torch.”

    “Go on then, light up. Make magic.”

    Swallowing, Rye glanced at Milo, who stared at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes. Make magic. He’d thought the same thing himself a thousand times. The way his marbles soothed his anxiety, or seemed to open locked doors, or throbbed warmly in his grip like they held secrets of who he was—what he was.

    “I don’t make magic,” Rye said carefully.

    Milo turned his head, waggling his brows. “Marvel me, then. Make me a nicer set of balls than I already have. Or better yet, make a marble that solves all my problems.”

    “Such as cockiness?”

    “Don’t go messing with anything starting with cock. All else is fair play.”

    “Your assery it is then.”

    Milo snorted.

    “Entertain me with these oh-so woeful problems.” Make me forget mine.

    “I’m too smart for my own good,” Milo said with a smirk. “And it’s going to cost me.”

    “So dramatic.”

    Milo looked pointedly toward Rye’s wrist.

    “Point taken,” Rye said.

    Milo’s phone rang and he swung off the couch. “You get to making that marble,” he said, ducking through the door. “I’ll be back.”

    Rye took a sparkly gold glass rod from the jars on the shelf, bumping the small velvet pouch of marble monstrosities at the end. They’d been Milo’s attempts at marbling, pockmarked and pitiful. Yet he’d not brought himself to throw them away. They called to him with a magic of their own, the magic of a hundred shared laughs between them. Laughs that had been few-and-far-between before Milo had come into his life a year ago.

    Rye set the melting glass next to the wedge of pendant. What style did Milo want? Did he wish his marble to glitter? To glow? To be dotted with silver?

    He listened for Milo and was met with nothing but the creaking of his store door. Where had Milo gone to take his call? Rye shuffled to the kitchen. Empty. He checked the store.

    “Milo?”

    A breeze swept through the room. The front door was partially open and rain was pooling at the floor. Had Milo taken his call outside? Or had he left, like sometimes he did, without so much as a goodbye?

    At the store window, Rye looked outside. The cloud had thickened. It hung low over shop roofs and gutters, only a few feet above the three umbrella-toting pedestrians huddled at the bus stop. Milo was strutting down the middle of the street toward the store, ash blond and soaked.

    Rye waved.

    The cloud burst, plumes pelting toward the ground, and a large winged body swooped down the street toward them.

    Dragon.

    Rye’s heart seized in his chest; he jerked his bloodied arm across his face and peered at the beast again, at its long snout, horns, and black scales, the arrowhead tail snaking behind it, whipping up gusts. The dragon dipped and umbrellas jerked, inverting into black poppies. Their owners laughed.

    Rye ached to be one of those men, ignorant of the terror flying over them, of the dragon stretching its forelegs, clawed talons aimed at—

    Milo!

    Rye tried to shout but his voice was lost in the tight clutch of his throat.

    The dragon whipped past the window. Wind surged and the door banged against the wall shelves, smashing a jar, glass shards and red marbles raining to the floor.

    Rye shrank back into the shadows, shaking as the dragon snatched his friend and lifted into the clouds. Words echoed in his head, soft, placating…

    Shhh. He won’t get you.

    BuyLinks

    Amazon US

    Amazon UK

    AuthorBio

    A born and raised New Zealander from Wellington, I’ve been exploring the literary world since I started reading Roald Dahl as a kid. Stories have been piling up in my head ever since. Fast forward to my mid-twenties and jump a few countries (Germany, America, and back again), I started to put them to paper.

    My genre of choice is romance, both adult and YA, gay and straight. You can take a closer look at my books, available as e-books for download in many formats!

    When I’m not pushing my characters deeper into adventure, I chase my son around the house and fight my two comical cats for the desk chair.

    Since 2014, I’m also part of CritShop Literary Services, specializing in writing workshops and editorial services for LGBT fiction.

    || Website || Facebook || Twitter ||

    RafflecopterGiveaway

    Winner’s Prize: E-copy of Locked

    a Rafflecopter giveaway