Summary:
Bedknobs and Broomsticks #1
Bedknobs and Broomsticks #1
A gay high-society wedding. A stolen book of spells. A love-threatening lie. Can a witch avoid a murder rap without revealing the supernatural truth?
Cosmo Saville guiltily hides a paranormal secret from his soon-to-be husband. And if he can’t undo a powerful love spell, uncertainty threatens his nuptial magic. But when he’s arrested for allegedly killing a longtime rival, he could spend his honeymoon behind bars…
Police Commissioner John Joseph Galbraith never believed in love until Cosmo came along. Falling head over heels for the elegant antiques dealer is an enchantment he never wants to break. So when all fingers point to Cosmo’s guilt, John races to prove his fiancé’s innocence before they take their vows.
As Cosmo searches for the real killer among the arcane aristocracy, John warns him to leave it to the police. But with an unseen enemy threatening to expose Cosmo’s true nature, the couple’s blissful future could shatter like a broken charm.
Can Cosmo find the lost grimoire, clear his name and keep John’s love alive, or will black magic “rune” their wedding bells?
Mainly by Moonlight is the first book in the sexy Bedknobs and Broomsticks romantic gay mystery series. If you like spell-binding suspense, steamy star-crossed fun, and a dash of paranormal, then you’ll love Josh Lanyon’s charming tale.
Original Audiobook Review October 2020:
Cosmo Saville guiltily hides a paranormal secret from his soon-to-be husband. And if he can’t undo a powerful love spell, uncertainty threatens his nuptial magic. But when he’s arrested for allegedly killing a longtime rival, he could spend his honeymoon behind bars…
Police Commissioner John Joseph Galbraith never believed in love until Cosmo came along. Falling head over heels for the elegant antiques dealer is an enchantment he never wants to break. So when all fingers point to Cosmo’s guilt, John races to prove his fiancé’s innocence before they take their vows.
As Cosmo searches for the real killer among the arcane aristocracy, John warns him to leave it to the police. But with an unseen enemy threatening to expose Cosmo’s true nature, the couple’s blissful future could shatter like a broken charm.
Can Cosmo find the lost grimoire, clear his name and keep John’s love alive, or will black magic “rune” their wedding bells?
Mainly by Moonlight is the first book in the sexy Bedknobs and Broomsticks romantic gay mystery series. If you like spell-binding suspense, steamy star-crossed fun, and a dash of paranormal, then you’ll love Josh Lanyon’s charming tale.
I couldn't think of a better time then October, when all things magical and spooky are not only expected but encouraged, to give one of my Best Reads of 2019 a listen. I wasn't disappointed, Kale Williams does a superb job of bringing Cosmo and John's magical journey to life. I won't say more to the plot because I still don't want to give anything away but even remembering what happens didn't take away any of the edge-of-my-seat need-to-know emotions in me. Still brilliant and Mainly by Moonlight will definitely be a re-read/re-listener for years to come.
Original ebook Review August 2019:
Another absolutely brilliant bit of storytelling from Josh Lanyon, and yes, it really is storytelling not just writing. I'll start off by saying that this is a series that continues on, not just with the same people but the story as well so don't expect everything to be answered, everything to be revealed, everything to have closure. I am on pins and needles waiting for book two.
Now, let's talk Mainly by Moonlight. I loved how it made me nostalgic for the endearing comedy of Bewitched, the magical drama of Charmed, and the spell-driven romance of I Married a Witch. Magic, romance, murder, spells, mystery, these are all there. We quickly learn that John is under a love spell and as much as Cosmo wants to do the right thing and break off the engagement when he learns it, he doesn't but continually searches for signs that the love John feels for him is real once he demands the spell be removed. Throw in Cosmo being a likely candidate for murder suspect and you have plenty of room for romance, hi-jinks, and drama. Sure there are times I want to kick both characters in the backside and whack them upside the head to make them see sense but there is just as many times I want to wrap them up and say its going to be okay. It's this contradicting hit-and-hug scale that kept me going, that fueled the need-to-know-now speed with which I read Moonlight and had me equally kicking myself for not savoring the story once I reached the final page. That push and pull feeling of needing to know versus savoring is how I know this is a great read for the win-win column.
I have theories percolating for book two(and beyond perhaps) but I won't divulge them as I don't want to spoil anything from Moonlight. It's these theories that make a few things in John and Cosmo's(mostly John) behaviors and actions acceptable. Does that mean if my theories don't pan out I'll rethink how much I loved this book? Not at all because I know the author will further the story in an equally entertaining way.
Now for those who aren't fans of insta-love and question the believe-abilty behind how fast the boys get everything ready in just two weeks time, even throwing out the magic bit that John knows nothing about, I still found it reasonable how he could believe it gets done in just 14 days. Both families seem to be in-the-know when it comes to getting things pushed through fast so magic or not, 2 weeks to set it all up is definitely acceptable. I'll admit, insta-love isn't always well written in the fiction world but when its as well done as Josh Lanyon has with Cosmo and John, it's not only acceptable(even with the magical element) its entertaining and fun.
Josh Lanyon definitely has another winner here in Mainly by Moonlight but as I said above not everything is revealed, not what I would label a full-fledged cliffhanger ending but there are questions yet to be answered. I mention this because not everyone is a cliffie-lover so if you don't like the waiting-for-answers bit, you might want to put this one on hold but if you love well written world-building magical romantic mysteries than you'll definitely want to put her new Bedknobs and Broomsticks series at the top of your TBR list, its not to be missed.
RATING:
Another absolutely brilliant bit of storytelling from Josh Lanyon, and yes, it really is storytelling not just writing. I'll start off by saying that this is a series that continues on, not just with the same people but the story as well so don't expect everything to be answered, everything to be revealed, everything to have closure. I am on pins and needles waiting for book two.
Now, let's talk Mainly by Moonlight. I loved how it made me nostalgic for the endearing comedy of Bewitched, the magical drama of Charmed, and the spell-driven romance of I Married a Witch. Magic, romance, murder, spells, mystery, these are all there. We quickly learn that John is under a love spell and as much as Cosmo wants to do the right thing and break off the engagement when he learns it, he doesn't but continually searches for signs that the love John feels for him is real once he demands the spell be removed. Throw in Cosmo being a likely candidate for murder suspect and you have plenty of room for romance, hi-jinks, and drama. Sure there are times I want to kick both characters in the backside and whack them upside the head to make them see sense but there is just as many times I want to wrap them up and say its going to be okay. It's this contradicting hit-and-hug scale that kept me going, that fueled the need-to-know-now speed with which I read Moonlight and had me equally kicking myself for not savoring the story once I reached the final page. That push and pull feeling of needing to know versus savoring is how I know this is a great read for the win-win column.
I have theories percolating for book two(and beyond perhaps) but I won't divulge them as I don't want to spoil anything from Moonlight. It's these theories that make a few things in John and Cosmo's(mostly John) behaviors and actions acceptable. Does that mean if my theories don't pan out I'll rethink how much I loved this book? Not at all because I know the author will further the story in an equally entertaining way.
Now for those who aren't fans of insta-love and question the believe-abilty behind how fast the boys get everything ready in just two weeks time, even throwing out the magic bit that John knows nothing about, I still found it reasonable how he could believe it gets done in just 14 days. Both families seem to be in-the-know when it comes to getting things pushed through fast so magic or not, 2 weeks to set it all up is definitely acceptable. I'll admit, insta-love isn't always well written in the fiction world but when its as well done as Josh Lanyon has with Cosmo and John, it's not only acceptable(even with the magical element) its entertaining and fun.
Josh Lanyon definitely has another winner here in Mainly by Moonlight but as I said above not everything is revealed, not what I would label a full-fledged cliffhanger ending but there are questions yet to be answered. I mention this because not everyone is a cliffie-lover so if you don't like the waiting-for-answers bit, you might want to put this one on hold but if you love well written world-building magical romantic mysteries than you'll definitely want to put her new Bedknobs and Broomsticks series at the top of your TBR list, its not to be missed.
RATING:
Summary:
Read by Candlelight #2
Enough to make anyone reach for the nearest bottle of laundanum...
Stephen Mereweather, a young invalid, doubts that gloomy Brackenwell Hall can cure him. What chance does country air, no matter how fresh, have against a disease that has baffled the greatest medical mind in London—his own father? Resigned to a long recovery, Stephen encounters instead a cheeky trespasser who takes Stephen’s bad mood as an invitation to be even more obnoxiously cheerful.
Charlie’s inflated self-regard is not the only inexplicable occurrence at Brackenwell. Stephen’s family is plagued by a series of disappearances and deaths. If Stephen wants to avoid a premature death, he’ll need Charlie’s help... But Charlie may prove an even bigger mystery.
The Mystery of Brackenwell Hall is the second book in the Read by Candlelight series, written for lovers of gothic romance. A historical mystery with supernatural elements.
Summary:
Tales of Fate #2
Spoiled, arrogant, and reckless. It's a miracle Lorcan had survived so long. As a nymph, he was rare. As crowned prince and the son of a god? He was a treasure unlike any other. That never stopped him from putting himself in danger and fighting against his duties by leaving the golden palace beneath the sea, though. In search of him. A pirate who'd long since captured his attention. Possibly his heart.
Alek didn't choose his life of secrecy and pain. Magic was considered a great evil and anyone found with mage blood was killed. Abandoned after his town was destroyed, he was left alone and starving in the streets. Until the captain of a legendary pirate ship found him and gave him not only a purpose in his life, but also a home. That home was gone now.
When Lorcan finds Alek, wounded and breathing his final breaths after a sea battle, he does the only thing he can: carries the pirate away from the destruction and stays with him so he doesn't die alone. But Lorcan soon realizes that the pirate was more powerful than he ever imagined. Even for a mage.
With both men on the run from bounty hunters and rogues of the sea, the two journey to Lorcan's underwater kingdom. Beneath the waves, their strong connection grows even stronger and their lust intensifies. Alek finds the nymph to be sarcastic and spoiled, and Lorcan finds the mage to be secretive and stubborn, yet their hearts have never felt more whole. Just as they're tearing down the wall between them, the reveal of a dark destiny threatens to rip them apart. A war is coming and decisions—and sacrifices—must be made.
Can two souls brought together by fate weather the storm?
*The Nymph Prince is a 125k word gay fantasy romance and is Book 2 in the Tales of Fate series. Mermen, magic, adventure, and a guaranteed HEA. While it can be read as a standalone, it's best to read the books in order to fully understand and appreciate the story.*
Imprisoned pickpocket Loth isn't sure why a bunch of idiots just broke into his cell claiming they’re here to rescue the lost prince of Aguillon, and he doesn’t really care. They’re looking for a redheaded prince, and he’s more than happy to play along if it means freedom. Then his cranky cellmate Grub complicates things by claiming to be the prince as well.
Now they’re fleeing across the country and Loth’s stuck sharing a horse and a bedroll with Grub while imitating royalty, eating eel porridge, and dodging swamp monsters and bandits.
Along the way, Loth discovers that there’s more to Grub than meets the eye. Under the dirt and bad attitude, Grub’s not completely awful. He might even be attractive. In fact, Loth has a terrible suspicion that he’s developing feelings, and he’s not sure what to do about that. He’d probably have more luck figuring it out if people would just stop trying to kill them.
Still, at least they’ve got a dragon, right?
Now they’re fleeing across the country and Loth’s stuck sharing a horse and a bedroll with Grub while imitating royalty, eating eel porridge, and dodging swamp monsters and bandits.
Along the way, Loth discovers that there’s more to Grub than meets the eye. Under the dirt and bad attitude, Grub’s not completely awful. He might even be attractive. In fact, Loth has a terrible suspicion that he’s developing feelings, and he’s not sure what to do about that. He’d probably have more luck figuring it out if people would just stop trying to kill them.
Still, at least they’ve got a dragon, right?
Summary:
Haunted Souls #2
Newly-minted Ghost Detective, Jude Byrne, finally has his life in order. He’s got a job he loves, friends he can count on, and a partner he actually likes. Jude’s only problem is the growing attraction between himself and his partner. He knows nothing will sink their partnership quicker than giving in to those urges.
Psychic, Copeland Forbes, is settling nicely into Salem, Massachusetts. He and Jude have formed the perfect partnership, with the former P.I. researching the history of the places they are hired to investigate, while it’s Cope’s job to communicate with the spirits they encounter to either move them on to the other side or work out an amicable arrangement with the people now living in their home. So far, the duo has a perfect record and completely satisfied customers.
The detectives’ record is put to the test when teenager, Xavier Lewis, parks his bike outside West Side Magick and asks if Jude and Cope’s fee can be paid via weekly installments of his allowance money. When Jude tells the boy it all depends on the story he has to tell, neither detective is prepared for the tale that spills out of Xavier’s mouth. When the boy tells them about a ghostly woman in white that he thinks is trying to kill him, Jude and Copeland are all in.
The partners soon discover that not all ghosts can be reasoned with and that the risks of dealing with the paranormal are very real indeed. Will the Ghost Detectives be able to solve the mystery of the woman in white or will they become the next victims in her ghost story?
Click to Check Out Previous
Random Paranormal Tales of 2020
Mainly by Moonlight by Josh Lanyon
Prologue
Something dark was following him.
Preoccupied with his thoughts, he didn’t notice at first.
When he did, he was not unduly concerned. It was an old part of town, a dark part of town—and Valencia Street ran through one of the darkest of the dark parts. Not in the sense of street lamps—or beings—missing a few light bulbs, though yes, come to think of it, it was a Stygian sort of night in the Mission District. The witch’s moon peeping slyly through the purple-edged girders of clouds shed little light on the closed shop fronts and wide empty streets. Deep shadows crawled from the mouths of alleyways, loitered by doorways.
A good night to get yourself mugged. Or magicked.
Neither thought worried him overmuch. He was running late. As usual. His main concern was that Seamus might grow impatient and leave—or worse, take offense and change his mind entirely.
In fact, it was hard to believe Seamus had invited him to this private viewing in the first place. They were not friends. Not even friendly.
Not after the incident of Great-great-great-uncle Arnold and the Louis XVI rococo hanging mirror.
Maybe offering Cosmo first chance at the grimoire was Seamus’s attempt to make amends. Though that was unlikely. There was no more arrogant son of a warlock than Seamus Reitherman. It was doubtful he believed he had anything to make amends for.
No, this gesture, if sincere, would be nothing more than a calculated effort to get the best price possible.
Which he would. If this was the real thing, Cosmo had no intention of quibbling over money. Let alone magic.
In three long strides he reached the darkened storefront of the Creaky Attic. His heart sank.
CLOSED read the sign in the front door. It was gently swinging, as though it had only been turned over a few moments ago.
Oh, but then the shop would be closed. It was well past midnight. Cosmo reached for the door handle.
Wrong again. It was locked.
He swore softly, studying the front of the store for movement within the indistinct interior. With the exception of the swaying sign, nothing moved. Even the playful night breeze stilled. Cosmo took a step back, absently considering the flowery white and gold script that flowed across the top of the unlit bay window: Antiques and the Arcane.
Though the lights were off, he could see straight down the crowded, shadowy center aisle to a sales desk—and the black outline of a doorway beyond. Pale lamplight glowed from within Seamus’s office.
Cosmo raised his hands before the front door. He murmured, “Ticktock, turn the lock.”
Simple magic. The kind of thing they learned as children. He didn’t expect it to work, but like the mortals say, it’s the little things. The locks turned—there didn’t appear to be any wards or enchantments protecting the entrance at all—and the door swung silently open as though pushed by an unseen hand.
Cosmo stepped inside. “Hello? Seamus?”
The shop smelled of old books and furniture polish and incense.
Barring the incense, it smelled like his own shop, though there was a sharp, unpleasant undernote he didn’t recognize. But then disagreeable smells were part of the antiques dealer job description. More often than not, the past stank.
“Sorry I’m late,” Cosmo called into the resounding silence. “Hello?”
No one answered. Nothing moved.
Yet the shop did not feel empty.
Framed in the office doorway, the lamp on Seamus’s desk shined with cheery disregard, a sharp black silhouette against the red walls. Cosmo walked soundlessly down the aisle, passing a Secor wooden barrel chest worth a couple grand, a late 19th century Broadwood upright piano in an ebonized and satinwood decorated case. The ivory keys rippled a ghostly little tune as he passed. Fauré’s “Clair de Lune.”
On the other side of the aisle he could make out Goddess boxes, smudging kits, and figure candles in the gloom. Seamus sold both the cheesy and the costly with equal aplomb.
“Seamus?” This time Cosmo did not call out. Something in the listening silence made him uneasy.
He remembered the presence he had felt on the street outside. But no, whatever that had been, it was still behind him. Unable to cross the shop’s threshold? Perhaps he had been wrong about the lack of wards and enchantments on the front door.
He reached the old-fashioned wooden circulation desk, went behind it, and entered the office. He froze on the threshold.
Seamus was on the floor, lying prone in twin pools of lamplight and blood.
Cosmo stared and stared and yet couldn’t seem to make sense of it.
Every detail was imprinted on his mind—the strands of gray in Seamus’s long ponytail, the silver glint of the ring on his hand, his staring bloodshot eyes—and yet he couldn’t seem to take in the whole picture. He felt strange. Cold and far, far away. Not astral projection far, far away. More Am I about to faint? far away.
Seamus was…dead?
Dead?
Not just deceased. Violently dead.
He could not see a wound, but all that blood had to be coming from somewhere. Some opening not intended by Goddess or nature. He swallowed his rising sickness.
An ebony-handled athame—the double-edge blade black with gore—lay a few inches from Seamus’s outstretched hand.
But this was not suicide.
Murder?
Who? Why?
Cosmo’s stricken gaze lit on what appeared to be yellow chalk markings above Seamus’s head. He moved closer for a better look, and his scalp prickled in horror.
The first strokes of a sacred symbol. Had someone begun to draw a pentagram?
No. This was truly unthinkable. Seamus had been slain by someone within the Craft. Cosmo knelt to reach for the dagger but remembered in time—all those hours spent watching television finally going to good use—and drew back.
He must touch nothing. He must leave. Now.
But those markings. He should make some record. He should… He felt for his phone.
A rustling sound overhead made him look up.
The image sliding across the low ceiling was straight out of his childhood, out of a lot of people’s childhoods: the sharp black silhouette of a witch on a broomstick. His relationship with that symbol was vastly different from most people his age—most people of any age. Even so, ridiculously, the sight of that profile—crooked hat, crooked nose, crooked chin—paralyzed him for a second or two.
“SFPD. Don’t move!” a voice bellowed from the doorway behind him—and Cosmo jumped.
“Keep your hands where I can see ’em. Do. Not. Move. A. Muscle.”
After his initial start, Cosmo did not move a muscle. He did not dare so much as breathe. Even with everything that had happened in the last four minutes, he could not believe he had not sensed the cop’s approach. Fool. Fool. Fool. He really was out of Practice.
“Facedown on the floor and lock your hands behind your head.”
Cosmo said urgently to the blinding white light, “I haven’t touched him. I found him like this—”
“Get on the floor. Facedown. Now.”
There were two of them. Two flashlight beams hitting him square in the eyes, and although the room was not in total darkness, it was disorienting. With time and cover there were evasive actions he could have taken, but he had neither.
The shock of finding Seamus dead had chased everything else from his mind. Now he remembered. The grimoire. Where was it? Was it in the shop? Had Seamus’s assailant taken it?
“Last chance. Get on the fucking floor, or I’ll blow your fucking head off.”
They were as frightened as he was.
He could not be arrested. There had to be some way—
Getting shot was not a viable alternative.
Though possibly preferable to having to explain…this.
Cosmo placed his hands on the floor, surreptitiously wiping the heel of his hand across the yellow chalk. He lowered himself, trying to avoid the spreading cobweb of Seamus’s blood weaving across the channels of woodgrain.
He blinked into the glare of the flashlights, forcing his soft voice to an even quieter and more soothing tone, seeking to reach them, to convince them. “This is a mistake. I’m not who you’re looking for. I just got here—”
“Hey,” the voice behind the second flashlight beam interrupted. “Isn’t that…”
“Isn’t that what?” demanded the first cop.
No, no, no. He tried again to reach them, keeping his voice so soft, so soothing… “This is a mistake. I’m not—”
The second cop said in a wondering tone, “Holy shit. I think I know him.”
“Well, who the hell is he, then?”
Goddess, no. Please no. He gulped. “Just listen, will you? This is not what it appears—”
“Holy shit,” the second cop repeated. Then in that same slow, incredulous voice, “Isn’t he the guy Commissioner Galbraith is supposed to be marrying this weekend?”
Red Heir by Lisa Henry & Sarah Honey
Calarian cooked surprisingly well for a vegetarian.
There’d been a brief standoff over who should do the duties, with Scott looking beseechingly at Ada, but she’d snapped, “Don’t try and make it my job. That long useless streak can do something instead of moping for a change.”
Calarian, the long useless streak in question, hadn’t dared object. He shuffled about scowling, but he did as asked, putting together a stew of some sort. Loth would have had seconds if there’d been any left. As it was, he watched as Dave shovelled the leftovers onto Grub’s plate. At least between the barely adequate servings and the exercise of riding all day, by the time they reached the capital he’d be in excellent shape for his career change. He’d probably be able to double his prices.
Of course, he’d have to ditch these idiots once he was within the walls of the city. The last thing he wanted was to get entangled in whatever political nonsense they were engaged in. If there really was some crazy rich nobleman out there who was bankrolling this entire enterprise—Scott’s Ser Factor—then Loth never wanted to meet him. No, it would be much better for everyone, especially Loth, if Prince Tarquin remained dead and buried. Loth didn’t have a great grasp on history, but he was fairly sure things never ended well for pretenders to the throne. Even the attractive ones.
Somewhere out in the darkness, a wolf howled. The hair on the back of Loth’s neck prickled, and he was thankful Pie had managed to light the fire after all.
After dinner, everyone began to spread their bedrolls around the fire. Loth saw the issue the second that Ada approached him with a bedroll clasped in her arms and an apologetic look on her face.
“We thought we’d only be rescuing one person,” she said, thrusting the bedroll at him.
Loth took it and exchanged a glance with Grub. The firelight really did bring out all the angles of his impressive scowl. His face was how Loth felt, but Loth was much better at hiding it.
“Well,” he said, “as the prince, I will of course take the bedroll and—”
Grub narrowed his eyes and then stalked towards the cart, presumably to throw himself down under it and sulk.
“Kidding!” Loth called. “Grub, I was kidding. We can share, you cranky little goblin. Get back here. I mean unless you’d rather sleep with the horses?”
“Maybe I would,” Grub shot back. “I’m sure even the geldings would put you to shame, Your Grace.”
“Oh, Grub,” Loth said. “Did you really just admit you were a horse fucker, just to make a joke about the size of my dick?”
Grub glowered. “It was worth it,” he said, but he didn’t sound sure.
“See?” Loth tsked and looked around the group. “He’s not even ashamed of it. Those poor horses.”
Grub stomped back over to him. “I fucking hate you,” he muttered.
“No, you don’t.” Loth beamed at him. “You adore me. I’m a delight.”
“I’ve met rats in cells that I like more than you.” Grub grabbed the bedroll and shook it out. “I’ve had ticks I liked more.”
“Did you catch those from the horses?”
For a moment Loth thought that Grub was going to breathe sparks like Pie, but suddenly he threw his hands up. The bedroll fell to the ground. Grub shook his head, his mouth twisting into something that Loth was surprised to discover was a smile.
Grub snorted. “I can’t win with you, can I?”
“You can’t,” Loth agreed. “Nobody wins against royalty. I’m glad you’ve realised.” He leaned in close. “Besides, geldings are missing their balls, and I still have mine. They’re quite impressive. Would you like to see?”
Grub let out a snort.
Loth crouched down and tugged the bedroll out. A moment later Grub joined him. His hands were pale in the darkness, fluttering like pale moths against the bedroll as they worked together to lay it out flat. Loth wondered if they were still shaking from the cold.
“You can take the side closest to the fire if you want,” he said airily.
Grub nodded and crawled into the bedroll. Loth crawled in after him. Around them, Loth heard the others settling. Someone was already snoring, but Loth wasn’t sure who it was. Dave was the large shape nearest to them, his greenish face illuminated by the flames, and by Pie, who buzzed around him flickering like a firefly.
Lying next to Grub was like lying next to a bag of bones. He was pointy, and Loth wasn’t a fan. Loth lay on his back for a moment, then rolled onto his side and pillowed his head on his arm. He watched Grub’s profile for a moment, lit by the fire. Grub was staring up at the sky, eyes wide open.
“Close your eyes, Grub. You’re putting me off my sleep.”
Grub jolted and turned his face towards Loth briefly. “I was looking at the stars.”
“Yes, yes. Stars.” Loth yawned. “Very pretty.”
“It’s...” Grub sounded hesitant. “It’s been a while.”
“A while since what?”
“Since I saw the stars.”
Loth felt a knot in his belly. “How long?”
“I’m not sure, exactly, but maybe... five years?”
“Five...” Loth’s chest tightened. “Fuck me.”
There was a moment of silence, and then Grub said, “I would, but you’re not a horse.”
And then the little shit rolled over and fell asleep.
There’d been a brief standoff over who should do the duties, with Scott looking beseechingly at Ada, but she’d snapped, “Don’t try and make it my job. That long useless streak can do something instead of moping for a change.”
Calarian, the long useless streak in question, hadn’t dared object. He shuffled about scowling, but he did as asked, putting together a stew of some sort. Loth would have had seconds if there’d been any left. As it was, he watched as Dave shovelled the leftovers onto Grub’s plate. At least between the barely adequate servings and the exercise of riding all day, by the time they reached the capital he’d be in excellent shape for his career change. He’d probably be able to double his prices.
Of course, he’d have to ditch these idiots once he was within the walls of the city. The last thing he wanted was to get entangled in whatever political nonsense they were engaged in. If there really was some crazy rich nobleman out there who was bankrolling this entire enterprise—Scott’s Ser Factor—then Loth never wanted to meet him. No, it would be much better for everyone, especially Loth, if Prince Tarquin remained dead and buried. Loth didn’t have a great grasp on history, but he was fairly sure things never ended well for pretenders to the throne. Even the attractive ones.
Somewhere out in the darkness, a wolf howled. The hair on the back of Loth’s neck prickled, and he was thankful Pie had managed to light the fire after all.
“We thought we’d only be rescuing one person,” she said, thrusting the bedroll at him.
Loth took it and exchanged a glance with Grub. The firelight really did bring out all the angles of his impressive scowl. His face was how Loth felt, but Loth was much better at hiding it.
“Well,” he said, “as the prince, I will of course take the bedroll and—”
Grub narrowed his eyes and then stalked towards the cart, presumably to throw himself down under it and sulk.
“Kidding!” Loth called. “Grub, I was kidding. We can share, you cranky little goblin. Get back here. I mean unless you’d rather sleep with the horses?”
“Maybe I would,” Grub shot back. “I’m sure even the geldings would put you to shame, Your Grace.”
“Oh, Grub,” Loth said. “Did you really just admit you were a horse fucker, just to make a joke about the size of my dick?”
Grub glowered. “It was worth it,” he said, but he didn’t sound sure.
“See?” Loth tsked and looked around the group. “He’s not even ashamed of it. Those poor horses.”
Grub stomped back over to him. “I fucking hate you,” he muttered.
“No, you don’t.” Loth beamed at him. “You adore me. I’m a delight.”
“I’ve met rats in cells that I like more than you.” Grub grabbed the bedroll and shook it out. “I’ve had ticks I liked more.”
“Did you catch those from the horses?”
For a moment Loth thought that Grub was going to breathe sparks like Pie, but suddenly he threw his hands up. The bedroll fell to the ground. Grub shook his head, his mouth twisting into something that Loth was surprised to discover was a smile.
Grub snorted. “I can’t win with you, can I?”
“You can’t,” Loth agreed. “Nobody wins against royalty. I’m glad you’ve realised.” He leaned in close. “Besides, geldings are missing their balls, and I still have mine. They’re quite impressive. Would you like to see?”
Grub let out a snort.
Loth crouched down and tugged the bedroll out. A moment later Grub joined him. His hands were pale in the darkness, fluttering like pale moths against the bedroll as they worked together to lay it out flat. Loth wondered if they were still shaking from the cold.
“You can take the side closest to the fire if you want,” he said airily.
Grub nodded and crawled into the bedroll. Loth crawled in after him. Around them, Loth heard the others settling. Someone was already snoring, but Loth wasn’t sure who it was. Dave was the large shape nearest to them, his greenish face illuminated by the flames, and by Pie, who buzzed around him flickering like a firefly.
Lying next to Grub was like lying next to a bag of bones. He was pointy, and Loth wasn’t a fan. Loth lay on his back for a moment, then rolled onto his side and pillowed his head on his arm. He watched Grub’s profile for a moment, lit by the fire. Grub was staring up at the sky, eyes wide open.
“Close your eyes, Grub. You’re putting me off my sleep.”
Grub jolted and turned his face towards Loth briefly. “I was looking at the stars.”
“Yes, yes. Stars.” Loth yawned. “Very pretty.”
“It’s...” Grub sounded hesitant. “It’s been a while.”
“A while since what?”
“Since I saw the stars.”
Loth felt a knot in his belly. “How long?”
“I’m not sure, exactly, but maybe... five years?”
“Five...” Loth’s chest tightened. “Fuck me.”
There was a moment of silence, and then Grub said, “I would, but you’re not a horse.”
And then the little shit rolled over and fell asleep.
Josh Lanyon
Bestselling author of over sixty titles of classic Male/Male fiction featuring twisty mystery, kickass adventure and unapologetic man-on-man romance, JOSH LANYON has been called "the Agatha Christie of gay mystery."
Her work has been translated into eleven languages. The FBI thriller Fair Game was the first male/male title to be published by Harlequin Mondadori, the largest romance publisher in Italy. Stranger on the Shore (Harper Collins Italia) was the first M/M title to be published in print. In 2016 Fatal Shadows placed #5 in Japan's annual Boy Love novel list (the first and only title by a foreign author to place on the list).
The Adrien English Series was awarded All Time Favorite Male Male Couple in the 2nd Annual contest held by the Goodreads M/M Group (which has over 22,000 members). Josh is an Eppie Award winner, a four-time Lambda Literary Award finalist for Gay Mystery, and the first ever recipient of the Goodreads Favorite M/M Author Lifetime Achievement award.
Josh is married and they live in Southern California.Her work has been translated into eleven languages. The FBI thriller Fair Game was the first male/male title to be published by Harlequin Mondadori, the largest romance publisher in Italy. Stranger on the Shore (Harper Collins Italia) was the first M/M title to be published in print. In 2016 Fatal Shadows placed #5 in Japan's annual Boy Love novel list (the first and only title by a foreign author to place on the list).
The Adrien English Series was awarded All Time Favorite Male Male Couple in the 2nd Annual contest held by the Goodreads M/M Group (which has over 22,000 members). Josh is an Eppie Award winner, a four-time Lambda Literary Award finalist for Gay Mystery, and the first ever recipient of the Goodreads Favorite M/M Author Lifetime Achievement award.
Gillian St Kevern
Gillian St. Kevern is the author of the Deep Magic series, the Thorns and Fangs series, the For the Love of Christmas series, and standalone novels, The Biggest Scoop and The Wing Commander's Curse. Gillian currently lives in her native New Zealand, but spent eleven years in Japan and has visited over twenty different countries.
As a chronic traveller, Gillian is more interested in journeys than endings, with characters that grow and change to achieve their happy ending. She's not afraid to let her characters make mistakes or take the story in an unexpected direction. Her stories cross genres, time-periods and continents, taking readers along for an unforgettable ride. Both Deep Magic and The Biggest Scoop were nominated for Best LOR story in the 2015 M/M Romance Groups Member's Choice awards. Deep Magic also received nominations in Best Cover, Best Main Character and Best Paranormal, while The Biggest Scoop was nominated for Best Coming of Age.
Jaclyn Osborn
Jaclyn Osborn was born and raised in the state of Arkansas. When not actively writing a new book, she can be found plotting and gaining inspiration for the next story. Writing is her passion and she's thankful for each day she's able to live her dream. A firm believer in happy endings and redemption for damaged souls, her boys in her stories mean the world to her, and she'd be lost without them.
All types of genres in the m/m world interest her, in both reading and writing, and she hopes to delve into a few of them in her writing career.
Jaclyn Osborn was born and raised in the state of Arkansas. When not actively writing a new book, she can be found plotting and gaining inspiration for the next story. Writing is her passion and she's thankful for each day she's able to live her dream. A firm believer in happy endings and redemption for damaged souls, her boys in her stories mean the world to her, and she'd be lost without them.
All types of genres in the m/m world interest her, in both reading and writing, and she hopes to delve into a few of them in her writing career.
Lisa Henry
Lisa likes to tell stories, mostly with hot guys and happily ever afters.
Lisa lives in tropical North Queensland, Australia. She doesn't know why, because she hates the heat, but she suspects she's too lazy to move. She spends half her time slaving away as a government minion, and the other half plotting her escape.
She attended university at sixteen, not because she was a child prodigy or anything, but because of a mix-up between international school systems early in life. She studied History and English, neither of them very thoroughly.
She shares her house with too many cats, a dog, a green tree frog that swims in the toilet, and as many possums as can break in every night. This is not how she imagined life as a grown-up.
Lisa has been published since 2012, and was a LAMBDA finalist for her quirky, awkward coming-of-age romance Adulting 101, and a Rainbow Awards finalist for 2019’s Anhaga.
To connect with Lisa on social media, you can find her at the links below.
Sarah Honey
Sarah lives in Western Australia with her partner, two cats, two dogs and a TARDIS.
A teacher once told her life’s not a joke.
She begs to differ.
Her proudest achievements include having kids who will still be seen with her in public, and knowing all the words to Bohemian Rhapsody.
Red Heir is her first published novel.
You can connect with Sarah on Facebook, or send her an email at sarahhoneywriting@gmail.com.
Lisa likes to tell stories, mostly with hot guys and happily ever afters.
Lisa lives in tropical North Queensland, Australia. She doesn't know why, because she hates the heat, but she suspects she's too lazy to move. She spends half her time slaving away as a government minion, and the other half plotting her escape.
She attended university at sixteen, not because she was a child prodigy or anything, but because of a mix-up between international school systems early in life. She studied History and English, neither of them very thoroughly.
She shares her house with too many cats, a dog, a green tree frog that swims in the toilet, and as many possums as can break in every night. This is not how she imagined life as a grown-up.
Lisa has been published since 2012, and was a LAMBDA finalist for her quirky, awkward coming-of-age romance Adulting 101, and a Rainbow Awards finalist for 2019’s Anhaga.
To connect with Lisa on social media, you can find her at the links below.
Sarah Honey
Sarah lives in Western Australia with her partner, two cats, two dogs and a TARDIS.
A teacher once told her life’s not a joke.
She begs to differ.
Her proudest achievements include having kids who will still be seen with her in public, and knowing all the words to Bohemian Rhapsody.
Red Heir is her first published novel.
You can connect with Sarah on Facebook, or send her an email at sarahhoneywriting@gmail.com.
Pandora Pine
Sick of the slogging rat-race of her 9-5 job, Pandora Pine put pen to paper (literally!) to make her ambition of becoming a romance novelist a reality. She cut her teeth in the dog-eat-dog world of fan fiction, still dreaming of the day when she would be a published author.
In her spare time, Pandora fancies herself an amateur nature photographer. She enjoys mucking around in swamps, hiking through the woods and crawling around on her hands and knees in her backyard seeking out the perfect shot. Pandora is a fan of roadside seafood shacks and always thinks Mexican food is a good idea at the time.
Some of Pandora's favorite things are chocolate, writing longhand with purple pens, and handsome men falling in love with each other.
Sick of the slogging rat-race of her 9-5 job, Pandora Pine put pen to paper (literally!) to make her ambition of becoming a romance novelist a reality. She cut her teeth in the dog-eat-dog world of fan fiction, still dreaming of the day when she would be a published author.
In her spare time, Pandora fancies herself an amateur nature photographer. She enjoys mucking around in swamps, hiking through the woods and crawling around on her hands and knees in her backyard seeking out the perfect shot. Pandora is a fan of roadside seafood shacks and always thinks Mexican food is a good idea at the time.
Some of Pandora's favorite things are chocolate, writing longhand with purple pens, and handsome men falling in love with each other.
Josh Lanyon
Kale Williams(Narrator)
Gillian St. Kevern
BLOG / NEWSLETTER / KOBO
SMASHWORDS / NINE STAR / B&N
EMAIL: gillian.stkevern@gmail.com
Jaclyn Osborn
EMAIL: authorjaclynosborn@gmail.com
Lisa Henry
EMAIL: lisahenryonline@gmail.com
Sarah Honey
EMAIL: sarahhoneywriting@gmail.com
Pandora Pine
Mainly by Moonlight by Josh Lanyon
The Mystery of Brackenwell Hall by Gillian St. Kevern
The Nymph Prince by Jaclyn Osborn
Red Heir by Lisa Henry & Sarah Honey
Ghost Story by Pandora Pine