Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Slasherazzi by Daniel A Kaine

Recently promoted to Detective, Alex is out to prove himself and the Slasherazzi case is the perfect opportunity. Mutilated corpses are showing up across Tampa, and when the team discovers the newest victim was tortured alive, Alex becomes more determined than ever to stop the crazed serial killer before the horrific stabbings escalate further.

With the return of Alex’s ex-boyfriend and journalist, Vince, the investigation takes a dangerous twist: the killer starts showing a personal interest in Alex. Can he stop the murders and salvage his relationship with Vince, or does he risk letting both men get away?

Where does one begin with a story such as Slasherazzi and not give spoilers? I'll do my best.  This is not for the faint at heart.  The story is told from the detective's POV with the exception of a few chapters where you see inside the killer's mind, which is not an pretty sight.  I came across this little gem when I was searching for some hauntings and ghost stories, there aren't any ghosts in this story other than what's in the killer's own mind, but this popped up and I do love a good mystery so I thought, "What the hell, I'll give it a go".  Boy am I ever glad that I did because this was magnificent even at it's more gory moments.  Let's just say if this was a movie then there are definite scenes where you'd be covering your eyes and screaming.  So delicious!  And having read it with Halloween season fast approaching was just icing on the top.  If you have the stomach for a few scenes of unpleasant destruction than this is the one for you and if gore isn't really your comfort zone, I think you'll still enjoy Slasherazzi because in my opinion you could "skim" through those few chapters and not be lost.


 The naked body laid before me trembled with fear, the muscles beneath his pale skin vibrating like an engine starting up. Wide green eyes stared up at me. He struggled against the black duct tape that bound him securely to the wooden table and muffled his cries for help. I tensed my fingers around the hilt of my Bowie knife, and a twisted smile spread slowly across my face as I debated where to make the first cut.

The body squirmed as the knife point pressed against the twitching flesh of his stomach. I trailed the tip up his chest and over the ridges of his heaving ribcage. Here? No. Back down to his legs. His muscles stiffened as the cold metal passed his exposed genitals, and I chuckled quietly to myself. Here.

“You’re going to die today,” I informed him with no more emphasis than if I had announced that blood is red. “You’ll have no more need for this than you will any other part of your body.”

The skin gave way to the sharp, narrow point of my blade, and the first crimson rivulet spilled out of the cut to meander down his shriveled sac, traversing its way through a forest of dark curly hair. I licked my lips in anticipation. He cried out through the old sock and layers of tape, but it wasn’t enough. I drove the knife in, and oh God, did he scream, an animalistic cry stifled by the makeshift gag. My breath hitched at the sound. His back arched, straining against the bondage holding him firmly in place. Tears rolled from his bloodshot eyes and down the sides of his head past sparse chestnut hair. My pulse raced through my body, creating a familiar tightness in my pants. I pulled the knife out and held it up to the faint light where I could watch the blood trickle down its length.

“Wanna see?” I asked, dangling the knife over his face. He screwed his eyes tight shut as a few drops splashed against his cheek. “Where next, I wonder?”

Cutting was a new game to me. In the past, I stuck to playing with the body only after I had watched the life drain from their eyes and blood stream from their lacerated throats. But now, I needed something more. The old routine had become boring…stale. I needed more excitement. More blood. More screaming. I was no longer content with a mere reminder of their lives passing under my supervision. I needed to find my release as they found theirs.

Death was what I sought, what I craved. It was the ultimate release. But now I had the order right, a part of the learning process like experimenting with which parts to cut, and in what order, to produce the maximum amount of pain and terror. The greater the agony, the greater the climax when death finally came—and so did I.

I placed the inch-wide knife across his stomach and picked up the 35mm camera that hung around my neck to snap a few shots of the quivering mess laid out in front of me. Then I looked over the body, deciding on my next move. Nothing seemed quite as appealing as that first thrust, slicing deep into the soft skin of his small, wrinkled cock. Perhaps I was too eager in drawing out the first scream. Better to go back to something more basic and make it last longer.

A finger, perhaps? I moved toward his left hand, and he clenched his fist, straining against the tightly wrapped tape around his wrist. Even then he struggled against my efforts to pry open his little finger. Naked and bound, staring into the eyes of his executioner, his ferryman, and yet he fought and clung to life. With some difficulty, and a little coaxing from the blade, I managed to extend his narrow digit, the knife easily slicing the soft flesh around the middle joint and hitting the bone beneath. Blood welled to the surface in a steady trickle, pooling on the table beneath him. He screamed out his muffled cries as I labored vigorously to remove the stubborn finger, grinding my teeth at its refusal to budge. I stabbed the tip into the joint, working through the gristle as I made a mental note to expand my hardware collection. It gave with a pop that echoed the release of tension inside me, and a spurt of crimson splashed against the carbon steel blade. I picked up the finger and held it for him to see before placing it gently upon his sternum.

His chest rose and fell in short, rapid movements as I contemplated my next move. Blood flowed from the stump of his finger, seeping outward with every frantic beat of his heart. The severed digit pointed downward to the soft flesh of his stomach as if telling me where to cut next. The blade easily pierced it, a small incision of an inch or so. I placed the knife onto his stomach and slipped my finger into the warm hole, sending a shiver down my spine. I gasped, as I’m sure my playmate would also have done had he been able. My finger penetrated his new orifice, thrusting in and out, wiggling around inside the warm, squidgy cocoon that oozed dark blood with every movement. His body bucked as I slammed inside, his endless wailing reduced to a groan through the dirty, sweaty sock that filled his mouth. Even the violent shuddering of his body became nothing more than a weak shudder.

The need within me was slowly building, like an old kettle bubbling within until finally ready to blow its spout. With my free hand, I undid my fly. There was another piece of flesh that required my attention.
Vince groaned, stretching his arms and legs out across the white sheets of his bed. I lay back down next to him after cleaning myself up, my leg draped over his and the palm of my left hand gently passing over his smooth skin, still damp with sweat.

I leaned in, my lips brushing against his ear as my hand ventured down farther toward his firm, round ass. “I don’t think you’ve fully paid for your crimes, yet,” I whispered, his body shuddering against me as I pressed gently into his slick hole, the muscles clamping down on my finger.

He chuckled and turned his head to smirk at me. “What’s got you so horny today?”

“Nothing.” I pushed a second finger inside him, his hips rising to start fucking himself on my fingers. Withdrawing them, I rolled over on top of him, straddling his legs. My cock began to harden, rubbing between his cheeks. I leaned down to lock my lips around the juncture of his jaw and neck, biting down gently and drawing a long moan from his throat. “Hope you’ve got some more rubbers.”

“Middle drawer. I just stocked up, so we can go at it all day if you want.” He leered at me, lifting his hips to rub his ass against the underside of my dick.

“You think you can manage that?” I asked, standing and giving his left cheek a firm slap. He let out a surprised yelp, the smacking sound reverberating through the small room. “I’m not gonna be as gentle on you this time.”

“Who’s asking you to be gentle?”

I walked over to the chest of drawers and opened the middle drawer, rummaging under the layer of socks until my hand closed around a small box. Placing it onto the bed next to the bottle of lube, I retook my position above Vince, pressing my body flush against his.

“Tell me, Vince,” I whispered. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to fuck me, Alex. Fuck me hard.”

My dick swelled, twitching with anticipation. “Yeah? You like my cock inside you, don’t you?”

Vince nodded, a small whimper passing his lips.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard…ram my cock all the way in. Wanna hear my balls slapping against you. Is that what you want?”

He grunted into the pillow, his fists clenching. “Yes. God, yes. Fuck me, Alex. Fuck me now.”

I opened the box of condoms, taking out one of the foil wrappers and began to tear it when a soft buzzing caught my attention.

“That better be a new toy I’m hearing,” Vince said with a groan.

My phone. “Shit. Hang on,” I said, clambering off the bed to search through the mound of clothes until I found my cell and flipped it open. “Hello?”

“Took your damn time. Wait, don’t tell me. You were with Vince, weren’t you? Spare me the details, okay? As much as I love you, Alex, I don’t need those kinda images scarring me for life.”

“Tanya. What’s up?” I sat down on the edge of the bed, doing my best to ignore Vince as he wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing his hard cock against my spine.

“We got a name for our John Doe. Robert Pearson. His wife showed up at the station this morning to file a missing persons report. She ID’d the body about half an hour ago.”

“What do we know about him?” I asked, stifling a groan as Vince’s tongue began to circle my ear. I lifted my right hand to try and swat him away.

“Not a lot, yet. The wife hasn’t exactly been in a talkative mood. What we do know is that he was a pastor at one of the local churches. I’m doing a background check on him now, see if I can dig up any dirt on him.”

“Well, thanks for letting me know. You’ll call me as soon as you find anything, right?”

“Actually, the reason I was calling you is because we’re holding a meeting in about forty-five minutes. The lieutenant wants you there.”

“I don’t know why I bother trying to take days off,” I said with a sigh, then a grunt as Vince’s teeth bit down gently on the shell of my ear.

“That better not have been what I thought it was. Is Vince with you right now? Put me on speakerphone. I want a word with him.”


“Alex, put me on speakerphone, or so help me God, I will whoop your ass, you hear me?”

I lifted the phone away from my ear and hit the speaker button. “Go ahead,” I said, and Vince looked at me in askance.

“All right, you listen here, Fairfield. I don’t know what kinda game you’re playing this time, but if you hurt Alex again, you’ll have me to deal with. I’ve got my eyes on you, okay?”

Vince grinned. “I’ll make sure to wear some tight jeans so you get a nice view.”

“And why would I wanna look at your skinny white ass?”

“Because it’s round, firm and has no tan lines. You can come have a close-up look if you want.”

There was a moment of silence. “I’m gonna just pretend you didn’t say that,” she ground out. “But remember, you’ve been warned. Now, put your dick away before I have to come around there and neuter you. I need to borrow Alex for a while. Official police business. You know how it is.”

“Sorry, Vince, but you heard the lady. I’ll be there as quick as I can. Don’t let them start without me, okay?”

Tanya laughed. “When have you ever known the lieutenant to wait for anyone? You’d best get your ass on over here.” The line went dead.

Author Bio:
Daniel Alexander Kaine, born and raised in England, makes his living working as a customer service advisor.

Daniel started writing in 2009 to alleviate boredom while searching for employment. He started out writing a cheesy fanfic for his favourite anime, Naruto, in which he paired our hero with the gorgeous Sasuke in an Anita Blake-esque world of vampire hunting. To this day he still cringes at the memory of all that cheese... *shudders*

In 2010, Daniel finally worked up the courage to start writing an original story. Thus, the idea of the 'Daeva' series was born, and with the help of the NaNoWriMo boards the story became a reality.

Now Daniel has three novels and two short story out. He has many more stories in the works, and is working hard to avoid the pitchfork-brandishing horde who want the third Daeva book yesterday!

Being an out-and-proud gay man, Daniel's main characters often fall somewhere under the LGBT spectrum, though he does not limit himself solely to stories about gay romances.

When not writing, Daniel enjoys curling up with a good book, and a glass of Jack Daniels and coke. His favourite genres include fantasy of all kinds - particularly paranormal and urban fantasy - crime and M/M romance. He also has a fatal love for video games and can often be seen pretending to be a giant cow with super healing powers on World of Warcraft, saving the world from Russian ultranationalists on Call of Duty, or slaying dragons on Skyrim. He also collects and paints Warhammer 40k models. Outside of the house, he can be found bowling, canoeing and running.

EMAIL: daniel.kaine@gmail.com


Sexy by JA Huss

Title: Sexy
Author: JA Huss
Genre: Adult Romantic Comedy
Release Date: September 9, 2015
Fletcher Novak is Sexy.
Fletch has charm, Fletch has charisma, and Fletch has moves. He turns dreams into reality two nights a week, baring his body to lonely women, bored housewives, and bachelorettes looking for that one last good time. He’s into one-night stands, one-time things, and he never, ever gets serious.

Tiffy Preston is looking for commitment.
A billionaire’s daughter with the world at her fingertips, Tiffy’s in Lake Tahoe to take over her father’s hotel and clean up the Mountain Men Male Revue Show. She’s well-bred, polite, and hates everything Fletcher represents.

But Fletcher offers Tiffy something she can’t refuse—total satisfaction and the man of her dreams. All she has to do is… everything he tells her.

Because Sexy doesn’t sell… it’s for sale.

Sexy is a full-length, standalone novel by New York Times Bestselling author, JA Huss.

     “Have you thought about me?” I ask. “Since last night at the show? Because I’ve thought about you.”
     “What did you think about me? That I’m your next victim?”
     “No, actually.” I smooth down the blanket on the ground of the shed and then step towards her, taking her face in my hands and pulling her tight against my chest. “I’ve thought about your hot breath as you panted against my cock when I was standing on your chair. I thought about your upturned eyes, looking at me if I ever got the chance to get you on your knees.”
     She gulps air.
     “Now tell me what you’ve been thinking about. Because you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want to be.”
     “We’re locked in,” she whispers as my mouth moves in closer.
     I kiss her softly. No tongue, just a small, tender kiss that makes girls melt. “You have a phone, Tiffy. One call to your BFF, Claudio, and you’re free.”
     She stares at me.
     “But even though I might be the biggest prick you ever met, you want me, don’t you.”
     She swallows hard.
     “And I want you. That’s why we’re here. I want you. So if you don’t feel the same way, now’s your chance to say so.”
     “I want…” She stops. There was a word on her lips, but I’m almost certain it was not my name. Jealousy heats me up in a millisecond. What kind of girl has another man’s name on her tongue when she’s gazing up into my eyes?
     “What?” I say sharply. “What were you gonna say?”
     “I want to be irresistible. Like you.”
     “What?” I have to admit, I’m surprised. And then I laugh. “Are you a virgin?”
     “I’m twenty-six, asshole. I’m not a fucking virgin.”
     “Then what do you mean? I’m confused.”
     “You’re just…” She sighs. “So good at this stuff. Seduction, right? I’m bad at it.”
     “Who do you want to seduce?” My jealous rage is back.
     “No one. Not specifically. But you’re so confident. And I’m so… not. I feel like I should take notes.”
     It’s my turn to sigh. “What, you want me to teach you how to seduce someone?” The irony is not lost.
     “Well, look. I hate you. I really do. You had me grabbing your cock last night and then I got accused of sexually harassing you. You made me feel like an idiot in that meeting with your plans and proposals. And now I’m up in your sex den, and I’m not sure what’s happening.” She looks at me with pleading eyes. “Tell me how you get all this control. How do you do it?”
     I think about this for a few seconds, and then take a calculated risk. “How many blowjobs have you given in your life, Tiffy?”
     “What?” She laughs, putting her hand over her heart like the word ‘blowjob’ is an assault on her virtue.
     “I’ve given… one,” she admits, and then averts her eyes.
     I’m turned on again. “One? One is not enough. If you want to know how to control a man, you don’t need to look any further than your own mouth. Men are drawn to lips. Every girl they ever think about sexually starts with an image of their cock in that girl’s mouth. So if you want control, you gotta lead a guy to your mouth.”
     She takes a deep breath. “Go on.”
     God, why am I so annoyed that she’s asking me for pointers? I can make her do anything I want right now. I should be celebrating.
     “Please,” she begs. “Tell me.”
     I place a hand on her shoulder and push. “Get on your knees.”

Author Bio:
JA Huss is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than twenty romances. She likes stories about family, loyalty, and extraordinary characters who struggle with basic human emotions while dealing with bigger than life problems. JA loves writing heroes who make you swoon, heroines who makes you jealous, and the perfect Happily Ever After ending.

You can chat with her on Facebook, Twitter, and her kick-ass romance blog, New Adult Addiction.

If you're interested in getting your hands on an advanced release copy of her upcoming books, sneak peek teasers, or information on her upcoming personal appearances, you can join her newsletter list and get those details delivered right to your inbox.



***The entire Rook & Ronin Series for $4.99 for ONE WEEK ONLY***

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Release Day Blitz: The Marine in Unit A by Kris Cook

Title: The Marine in Unit A
Author: Kris Cook
Series: Mockingbird Place #1
Genre: M/M Romance
Release Date: September 15, 2015
The man who has been more of a dad to me than my biological father is dead.
He rescued me from the streets six years ago—a runaway teenage boy, escaping a family who thought I was an abomination.
Now what do I do? I have no one.
My life might look great from the outside. I’m in college. I have my own apartment. I have lots of friends.
But I’m dying on the inside.
I feel so alone. Lost. Hopeless.
I’m not the kind of person to wallow in self-pity. I need a distraction.
The guy moving into Unit A may be just what I need to take my mind off of losing my dad.


21-year old Oliver Lancaster is attracted to 22-year old Adam Stockton, the former-Marine moving into Unit A. But attraction for the closeted man morphs quickly into something deeper, something meaningful, something that terrifies Oliver. What will happen if Adam learns about the secret from his past?

Warning: contains skinny dipping, two hot men kissing, and sexual situations taking place in a 10-unit Mediterranean complex filled with college-aged hotties.

Having been awake all night, I step out of the shower. The rally doesn’t start until noon, but I need something, anything that can distract me from thinking about what happened with Adam. Giving him space is what Martha and Sarah think I should do, so I decide to let a single day pass. But if I don’t hear from him by tomorrow, I will make the first move to fix things between us. And besides, Adam still needs help setting up his apartment before his mother arrives, and I want to be that help.

I finish getting ready, and take one last look at my hair before leaving my apartment. I park my car in the student parking lot. The university I attend has a large green space in the middle of campus. Mature trees line the sidewalks that are sparsely filled with students going to and from their classes and dormitories. In the fall the grounds will be teeming with students.

I look at the time on my cell. 8:21am. I have over three and a half hours to kill before the rally. Where to go? The library? No. I didn’t need to go over my speech any more, since I’ve spent several early morning hours already working on it. I am ready. So I decide to get a bite of breakfast in the cafeteria.

When I walk inside, I see Adam at a table filling out some paperwork. I freeze in place. I am in a quandary whether to approach him or not, whether to follow Martha and Sarah’s advice or not, whether to tamp down my desire to sit down next to him to say how sorry I am—or not.

Adam looks at me. Did he feel me staring at him? Before I can step back to the entrance to leave, he waves me over. I feel my shoulders relax as relief rolls through me. At least he is willing to talk to me again. I take cautious steps in his direction. Gone are his jeans and T-shirt and facial hair. He is clean-shaven, wearing black slacks and a white dress shirt and blue tie. Casual or dress up, with whiskers or without, Adam is the epitome of masculine beauty.

“Have a seat, Oliver.”

I do, waiting for him to lay into me again about seeing his prosthetic legs. “Would you mind if I put your name down as a reference on this application?

They’re asking for a student or professor’s name. You’re the only one I know.” He looks at me with those damn gorgeous doe eyes. “I have the option to leave it blank if you don’t want me to.”

“Please. Use my name. I’ll be happy to be your reference.” Your friend. Your boyfriend. Whatever.

“Thanks, buddy.” He smiles and then goes back to filling out the paperwork.

I have the strongest urge to bring up what happened last night to try to clear the air. But hearing Martha and Sarah’s words of advice replay in my head, I keep my mouth shut. If he isn’t ready to talk about it, then I certainly am not going to mention it. I will give him whatever space and time he needs. At least he isn’t asking me to leave.

“Done.” He stands. “Wish me luck.”

“Sure. For what?”

“That I can get a job in the cafeteria. Are you in a hurry?”

“I don’t have to be anywhere until noon.”

“Good. Let me turn this in and maybe I could trouble you with that tour around campus you offered me.”

I am so glad he’s asking for my help. “I’ll be happy to show you some shortcuts.” “You’re a lifesaver. My sense of direction is shot. I wish you could have seen the look on my face when I walked into the women’s locker room by mistake earlier. Why the door was unlocked I have no clue, but I could feel my cheeks burning when the girls started giggling and running for cover. I turned and walked out as fast I could, buddy.”

“You really do need my help. It took me a whole semester to figure out how to get around this place. But I’m surprised that you walked into the women’s locker room. Isn’t a good sense of direction necessary on the battlefield?” Oh shit. Why did I bring that up?

“It’s easy on the battlefield. You just have to know where the bullets are coming from.” He smiles, which makes me feel better. “I’m starving, how about you?”


“Breakfast is on me.” He hands me a twenty-dollar bill. “The lady in charge asked me to fill this out today but won’t be able to interview me until next week. Let me turn this application in and you order us some breakfast. Then we’ll go on the tour. I’ll be right back.”

He walks away. His limp is gone. No one in the cafeteria has a clue that he is missing a leg but me. And it certainly doesn’t bother me, not one bit. I don’t know how he lost his leg, but obviously he hasn’t quite accepted it yet. He mentioned a friend was supposed to help him initially, but the guy never showed. Did Adam have any help packing and loading before driving to Mockingbird Place? He didn’t seem overly tired that night, but he is a strong guy. A former-Marine. I guess he’s not limping because he got some rest after unloading his things into Malcolm’s old place. No, Adam’s place. Unit A is Adam’s.  I go and order two sausage egg cheese biscuits and orange juices for us. When I get back to our table, he is already there.

Adam looks up at me. “Breakfast is served?”

I place the tray on the table. “Yes, sir.” I can’t resist and salute Adam, instantly worrying I might be overstepping again. Thus far he’s been very closed mouth about his military service. But he returns the salute with a devilish grin, easing my concerns. We eat our breakfast, talking about everything except the main issue on my mind.

“I bet you’re glad our complex has a pool,” he says. “It’s going to be very hot according the weatherman for the next several days.”

“You like to swim?”

He shrugs. “I used to.”

I brace myself, thinking we might be getting close to opening Pandora’s box about what happened. But as usual, Adam changes the subject. “Oliver, how about you show me the buildings where my classes are going to be first?”

“Sure thing.”

He hands me his schedule, and I realize the lid on the infamous box is not only shut tight, it is also locked with no sign of the key in sight. What is it going to take for Adam to explain his sudden and over-the-top reaction to me learning he lost his leg? And will I ever learn if he is gay or straight?

As we leave the cafeteria, he asks, “Do you know the guy who lives in Unit D? Long black hair. Blue eyes. Good looking. He invited me to a party tonight at his and his roommate’s place.”

“That’s Trace. I’m going, too. In fact the whole complex should be there. It’ll give you another chance to get to know everyone.”

“The ones who helped us move my things were very nice, though the MMA fighter is a bit intense.”

“Tony’s that way, but I believe he’s really a good guy underneath all that darkness.” “I wasn’t sure I would go, but now that I know you’re going I will.” We had so much drama last night, and today he’s acting like it never happened.

Now, he says he only is going to the party if I’m going. Damn. He confuses me so much. I sense now is not the time to confront him with what I’m feeling. But if not now, when? “I’m glad you’re going, too.”

We walk around campus, and I point out the iconic spots.

“That’s Dallas Hall, the oldest building on campus.”

“It’s quite grand. I like the dome.”

When we got to the building that had the last class on his list, he turns to me.

“Thanks, buddy.” Buddy. There’s that word again. But better to be called that than nothing. I did say I would settle for friendship, but can I really? The more time I spend with him the more my feelings get mixed up.

“No trouble, Adam. I enjoyed hanging out.”

“Me, too. I would have been completely lost on my first day of classes if it hadn’t been for you and your fantastic tour.” He sighs. “I better get back to looking for a job.”

“Do you plan on working the entire time you’re in school?”

“Yeah. With the financial aid I’m getting I don’t have to work, but I want to. It will give me extra spending money and will keep me busy.”

I have a feeling that he likes keeping busy so he doesn’t have to face bigger issues inside him. “You don’t seem like you would be happy working in food service to me. Have you thought about doing something else?”

“Like what?”

“I know the guy who heads the campus police department, Chief Torres. He told me the other day he has two openings. I bet he’d love to hire you, especially with your military background.”

“Right.” Adam shakes his head. “A one-legged Marine would make such a great police officer.”

I am nervous to push him, but have to try. At least he’s mentioning his service—and missing leg. It’s a start. “Adam, I saw you unload that truck and move all those boxes and furniture into your place. You’re strong and capable. You would definitely be an asset to Torres’s department.”

“You really think so?”

My cell rings. “I know so.” I answer the call.

“Oliver, where are you?” Candy’s voice sounds frantic. “I’m at the engineering building.”

“That’s clear across campus. You’re supposed to speak in two minutes.” “Oh crap. The time got away from me. I’ll run. Stall if you have to.” “Hurry.”

“Sorry, Adam, but I have to go. I’ve got a speech to give.”

“I’d like to hear it.”

“Then follow me.”

What Others Are Saying:
“Loved this book! Very touching love story and has me wanting to know more about the residents at Mockingbird Place.” ~ The Smut-Brarians

“It is well written, and you can feel the intensity of the words and the emotions of the characters in the book.” ~ Bloggin' With M.Brennan

“A very nice read that I totally enjoyed. I will read more by this author especially this series.” ~ Inked Rainbow Reads

Author Bio:
Though starting in straight erotic romance, Kris's total focus now is on gay romance. When asked why recently, his answer was "My muse finally came out of the closet. Isn't it about time? I’ve been out since I was twenty-five."  A voracious reader, Kris loves many genres of fiction, but this writer's favorite books are romances that are edgy, sexy, with rich characters and unique challenges. Kris' influences include Anne Rice, JR Ward, Lexi Blake and Shayla Black. Last year, Kris married the love of his life Stephen.

EMAIL: kris@kriscook.net

The Marine in Unit A #1

The Cowboy in Unit E(Cover Coming Soon)

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Release Day Blitz: Queen of Always by Sherry D. Ficklin

Title: Queen of Always
Author: Sherry D. Ficklin
Series: Stolen Empire #3
Genre: Young Adult, Historical
Release Date: September 15, 2015
Publisher: Clean Teen Publishing

If her time at court has taught Catherine anything, it’s that there is no room for weakness in Imperial Russia. With the Empress’ health failing and rumors of a change in the line of succession, her place in the royal line is once more in jeopardy. Tormented by her sadistic husband and his venomous mistress, Catherine must once more walk the fine line between pleasure and politics—between scandal and survival.

When her young son becomes the target of those rebelling against Peter’s reign, Catherine will have to rise up to protect herself, her child, and her nation from his unstable and potentially catastrophic rule. This means putting herself at odds with the most dangerous man she’s ever known, trusting those who once proved to be her enemies, and turning a nation against its sovereign. In the ultimate battle for the crown, new alliances will be forged, loyalties will be tested, and blood will be shed.

Don’t miss this breathtaking conclusion to the Stolen Empire series!

Queen of Always is a YA historical fiction based on the life of young Catherine the Great. Fans of the hit TV show REIGN will devour this scandalous glimpse into the life of one of the most dynamic women in history.

     Once everyone has filed in, Peter stands.
     “I have gathered you together to witness a momentous occasion.” The crowd hushes. “This week, my son and heir was taken by those who would seek to destabilize our beloved country. Those men have been executed. But before their deaths, it was discovered that one of them had ties to Danish court.”
     I watch on in horror as his eyes lock on to Alexander in the crowd. “While I cannot prove he was acting on orders from Danish court, I have decided that a show of force is necessary. And so this week, I am dispatching troops to Demark. We will take the country and any who oppose us will be razed to the ground.” He lifts a glass as if to toast, but the room is silent. I stand, leaning over and whispering.
     “Peter, you can’t declare war on Denmark with no evidence. They are our ally, if you attack them unprovoked—“
     I don’t get to finish my thought. His hand shoots out, slapping me in the face so hard I pitch forward and roll down the small staircase.
     My ears are still ringing when he slowly climbs down and takes a handful of my hair in his fist, lifting me to my feet.
     “There may be some of you who question my decisions. But I am sovereign Russia. This country, and everyone in it, belong to me. I decide who we will be at war with and I will decide who to call my wife.”
     He’s shouting, spittle flying from his mouth as he takes two steps forward, dragging me with him.      When he finally releases me, I stumble but manage to keep my feet under me.
     “George, take her to the cells!”
     I blink, steeling myself to be taken into custody. But to my surprise, George doesn’t move. He simply lowers his head.
     “Mikahil!” Peter yells, looking for support from his oldest friend. Mikhail rushes to Peter’s side and whispers furiously. Peter waves him off in an angry fit.
     “Guards, take her!” he orders. Two guards near the rear door move, only to be met with a line of Nobles blocking their path. My own guards rush in, swords drawn, and circle me.
     I can feel the rage radiating off Peter in waves. Straightening myself I hold up my hands.
     “No, please. Let them through.” Then to Grigori, “Let them take me, that is my command.”
     Reluctantly the Nobles step aside, and my guards retreat. But before his guards can touch me Peter screams and they freeze.
     “No! You will not obey her. You will obey me!”
     For a long moment no one moves. Battle lines have been drawn and it’s as if the entire assembly might erupt into a bloody massacre right here in open court. My breath is coming too fast, I realize, forcing myself to still against the rising panic. Unsure what else to do to defuse the situation I turn to Peter and curtsey deeply.
     “Yes, we will obey our king!” I say, my voice as steady as I can make it. Around me, others do the same, some even dropping to one knee.
     Finally, Peter takes a deep breath, seeming to calm. But it’s a menacing sound, one I know all too well, and goosebumps break out across my skin. It’s the sound the wind makes before it blows, the sound of waves an instant before they crash to the shore. The sound of inevitability. While I realize that nothing can stop him now, I know I must try anyway, I must try to contain the damage.
     “Punish me, if you will, but leave the others. It was only their deep sense of chivalry that drove them to defend me, nothing more,” I plead.
     The side of his mouth curls up as Peter nods.
     “Yes, you must be punished. You publically challenged my authority and your punishment will be equally public.”
     I swallow hard. A flogging, if I’m lucky. Or perhaps simply a few days in the stockade. He will punish me, but he will not kill me, not even for this. I sag, a moment of relief washing over me, but he sees it, and in his eyes, I see something change.
     Moving slowly across the room he grabs a crystal flask of liquid, each step, each gesture exaggerated like a court fool might. When he moves back to me, he holds it close enough for me to smell, swirling the clear liquid inside. Vodka? My confusion lasts only a moment.
     Slowly he begins pouring it down my shoulders, into my hair, and down my white feathered gown. The liquid is cold against my hot flesh, soaking into my heavy damask gown. The heavy odor fills my lungs, making each breath sting. Around me people watch, looks of shock and horror etched onto their faces. I find Sergei in the crowd and hold his gaze. His blue-green eyes are narrow, his hand hovering inches above the long knife attached to his waistcoat. I shake my head, imperceptibly, and he blinks, still not relaxing. He’s trying to decide if he’s going to come to my rescue, but I know that if he does, Peter will kill us both. His jaw clenches, but finally, he drops his hand. I feel myself relax, just a bit, as Peter begins speaking again, drawing my attention to his face. He’s excited, like a child about to play his favorite game. It’s then that the real fear hits me.
     “My Aunt didn’t believe in executing her enemies. She understood that death was a privilege, that there were far worse things.” He pauses, sweeping the room with a glance. “Let me be very clear. I will not tolerate any disloyalty.” He replaces the now empty flask on the tray and picks a lit candle from the nearby candelabra. I hold his gaze as he walks slowly toward me, each footstep echoing in the deathly still room. The pulse beats in my ears so loudly it drowns out all other sounds, my heart flutters in my ribcage like a hummingbird. I will not let him see me afraid, I decide, steeling myself. I will not give him the pleasure. I would rather die in flames right now than to let him break me again. I lift my chin, refusing to falter.
     Once he’s close enough he leans in close, whispering into my ear.
     “I have wanted to do this for a very long time, wife.”
     He touches the flame to my gown. All I can do is scream as chaos erupts around me.

Author Bio:
Sherry D. Ficklin is a full time writer from Colorado. She can often be found browsing her local bookstore with a large white hot chocolate in one hand and a towering stack of books in the other. That is, unless she's on deadline at which time she, like the Loch Ness monster, is only seen in blurry photographs. She is the author of over a dozen novels ranging from contemporary romance to science fiction. In her spare time she co-hosts the Pop Lit Divas radio show and is a contributor for Fangirlish.com.

You can see more about Sherry and her books at her official website.


Queen of Always #3

Queen of  Someday #1

Queen of Tomorrow #2

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Em & Em by Linda Budzinksi

Title: Em & Em
Author: Linda Budzinski
Genre: Young Adult, Contemporary
Release Date: September 15, 2015
Publisher: Swoon Romance
The last thing sixteen-year-old Emily Slovkowski wants is to move away from her home at the Jersey shore, gorgeous surfer boyfriend Zach, and her entire identity. But that’s kind of how Witness Protection works, and Em must prepare herself for an epic do-over as she starts a new life in the Midwest.

Even as she pines for sandy beaches and the night life of the shore, the newly-named Ember O’Malley finds herself making new friends, taking photos for the high school newspaper, and thinking an awful lot about the paper’s editor, an oddly cute cowboy named Charles.

When Em stumbles upon a shady beneath-the-bleachers exchange between one of the school’s football coaches and a student, she refuses to get involved. The last thing she needs is to be witness to another crime or call attention to herself. Besides, she finally has some real friends – well, real except for the fact that they don’t know a single thing about her – and she prefers to keep it that way until the trial.

But as her day in court approaches, Em begins piecing together what she saw that day beneath the bleachers. And, as her own past secrets start to catch up with her, Em needs to figure out who she really is – Em or Em.

Charles scrambled up a steep set of stairs leading to a loft.

Ember hesitated. Was she crazy to follow him up there? After all, she didn’t know him that well. What if under that sweet geek-boy exterior he was no different from Jimmy and Brad and their teammates? She hadn’t seen another soul when they’d pulled in. Perhaps she was a lamb being led to slaughter.

Charles peered over the edge of the loft. “You coming? You’re going to love this.”

“What is it? Can you bring it down?”

“It’s a surprise. And no.” Charles’s forehead creased, and he nodded toward the stairs. “You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”

“No.” Ember took a deep breath and climbed up. She stopped near the top of the staircase and peered around. The loft was empty except for a few scattered piles of hay. Charles sat in the far corner, a huge grin on his face. Her stomach clenched. He’d said he could “cheer her up.” Was this what he had in mind—a literal roll in the hay? Was that how he thought of her?

Ember gripped the railing so hard her palms hurt. It was as though she had a blinking neon sign hanging over her head. “I’m Easy!” She’d thought she could leave the hot tub, the video, and her whole miserable sophomore year behind her, but maybe she couldn’t. Not even halfway across the country. Not even with new hair, a new wardrobe, a new name. Maybe she was and always would be the Girl in the GIF, Emily Slutkowski.

Author Bio:
I live in Northern Virginia with my husband, Joe, and our feisty chihuahua, Demitria (also known as Dee Dee, The Puppy, and Killer). I'm a sucker for romance and reality TV and have been known to turn off my phone's ringer when watching "The Bachelor." My favorite flower is the daisy, my favorite food is chocolate, and my favorite song is "Amazing Grace."

I write young adult romance. My novels, both published by Swoon Romance YA, are EM & EM and THE FUNERAL SINGER. I am represented by Andrea Somberg of Harvey Klinger Inc


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Release Day Blitz: Flirting with Fate by Jerrie Alexander

Title: Flirting with Fate
Author: Jerrie Alexander
Series: Noble Pass Affaire Novella
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Date: September 15, 2015
Cover Design: Misty Dietz
There is no such thing as accident; it is fate misnamed.  -Napoleon Bonaparte

Elle Reagan isn't about to stand by and let a con-artist get away with stealing her grandmother’s life savings. While the legal system moves at a snail's pace, Elle promises to bring him to justice. She follows him to a ski resort in Colorado, where she hopes to get the evidence needed to put him away for good. But she didn't count on her roommate being a distraction, because he wasn't supposed to be her brother’s best friend.

Detective Logan Ford has denied his desire to take Elle into his arms since they were teenagers, but when his partner asks him to follow her to Castle Alainn to keep her out of trouble, Logan finds himself unable to refuse her. He agrees to help catch a thief instead of convincing her to pack her bags and go home. To make matters worse, he can’t seem to remember why he should keep his distance from the delectable, infuriating, independent Elle.

Elle and Logan surrender to their attraction, but as their passion ignites, her plot is discovered. A killer will do whatever it takes to silence her and destroy a love that was destined to last a lifetime.

     Dinner arrived and both fell into silence as they ate. Even well done, her prime rib was tender and moist. Elle sliced off a piece and held out her fork. "Try this."
     Logan's gaze met hers as he leaned across the table and slid the piece of meat off her fork into his mouth. Electricity, strong enough to incinerate the Christmas tree in the corner, charged back and forth between them.
     "Not bad." He offered to share a bite of his prime rib, but she waved him off.
     "They're right behind you." Elle and Logan pretended to ignore the two couples as they walked past, but she listened closely.
     "It's important that you act now," said Brandon. "I have other investors waiting in line for this deal."
     Logan placed his fork on his plate and leaned back. "Typical fraud talk. Try to convince the mark that they're going to miss out if they wait too long."
     "We have to make sure the Fitzgeralds don't get ripped off." Elle had a lot of faith in Logan. His reputation as a crime solver was well known. "Fate sent you here to save them from disaster."
     "Fate's name is Eric."
     "So he's the only reason you came?" She was fishing, but she had to seize the moment.
     Logan refilled her glass but not his own. "You know better."
     "You're not drinking?"
     "One of us has to keep a clear head." The corner of his mouth curved upward.
     "Why, Mr. Ford," Elle said in her best heavy drawl. "Are you trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me?"
     Again, Logan laughed. God she loved to hear the slow and sexy sound. She'd never get tired of it. "Don't make me give your pretty head a knuckle rub."
     "You wouldn't dare." She joined his laughter.
     "And I'd never take advantage of you."
     Elle took a sip of wine. She'd barely kept herself from telling him that she wished he would. "I think I'm finished." She pushed the glass to the center of the table.
     "Then let's get out of here." He motioned for the check, signed it, and then walked around behind her and held her chair as she stood.
     "Thank you. You're such a gentleman."
     His eyebrow lifted. "That’s not the way you should think of me."
     Before she could challenge his comment, he'd ushered her out into the lobby. His hand rested on her lower back. How would it feel against her bare skin? She pushed away those thoughts while studying his profile. Logan wasn't handsome in a pretty-boy way. His nose was slightly crooked, and a small scar bisected his eyebrow. Both had been the result of falling from a tree house he and Eric had built. His walk, deliberate with a bit of a swagger, exuded a quiet but deadly confidence.

Author Bio:
A student of creative writing in her youth, Jerrie set aside her passion when life presented her with a John Wayne husband and two wonderful children. Her love for romantic suspense inspires her to write alpha males and kick-ass women. Her characters weave their way through death and danger to emerge stronger, because of, and on occasion, in spite of, their love for each other.  If they’re tough enough, they live happily ever after.

Jerrie lives in Texas, denies having an accent, thrives on sunshine, children’s laughter, sugar (human and granulated), and researching for her heroes and heroines. She loves to hear from her readers. Find a complete list of her books at http://www.jerriealexander.com or contact her at jerrie@jerriealexander.com.

EMAIL: jerrie@jerriealexander.com


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