Tuesday, September 15, 2020

Release Blitz: The Alpha's Mate by Beth Laycock

Title: The Alpha's Mate
Author: Beth Laycock
Series: Penhul Pack #1
Genre: M/M Romance, Paranormal
Release Date: September 15, 2020

Summary:
Alpha of the Penhul pack with a human mate? Never going to happen.

Addison knows grief can do strange things to people, but when he’s wandering Pendle Hill and witnesses a dog leap out of thin air, he thinks he must be going crazy. When the border collie morphs into a man—a very naked man—he has to be dreaming. Only when he wakes to find himself cold and alone, locked inside a bare stone room does he wonder if it was the start of a nightmare.

As the youngest alpha the Penhul pack has ever had, Drake knows he has a lot to prove. Increasing their dwindling numbers is hard enough but convincing his pack they can do so by working alongside humans is like trying to teach an old dog new tricks. He was taught, as all familiars are, that humans can’t be trusted, especially not with their secret. It’s no surprise, then, that he has no idea what to do when a member of his own pack brings a human prisoner to their den. But he’s definitely not prepared for the reaction the human elicits from him.

Can Drake put aside their differences, and Addison come to accept their similarities, to save the Penhul pack from danger? A threat that may end up costing Drake not only his life but that of his fated mate?


Standing in front of the door, I peered through the barred window into the room yet couldn’t see anyone. But I knew someone was inside from the telltale tingle along my skin as the hairs on my neck lifted. I didn’t sense danger or even wariness like I usually did when I had to interact with humans. That lack of sense set me on edge. “Stay here. I’ll go in alone to see him.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

I unlocked the door and stepped inside the room. The burst of pain in my abdomen took me by surprise and I sucked in a deep breath. A reaction to a human had never happened to me before. He did make a sorry sight though. Arms clutching his knees to his chest and his head lay on top of them. Chin-length blond hair hid his face. But his scent couldn’t be concealed. The distinctive human smell filled the room.

I took another deep breath, and beneath the scent of human I smelt hints of something sweet like honey. My mouth watered at the flavour, and I staggered back at my response. This couldn’t be an ordinary human. Perhaps his ending up here wasn’t so coincidental after all. What if he had already suspected what we were? What if he’d been out on Pendle Hill looking for us?

At the scrape of my feet across the stone flags as I stepped farther into the room, his head lifted. And I found myself staring into a pair of chocolate-brown eyes that sent a rush of adrenaline through my veins and left me light-headed. Every muscle went into lockdown at my bizarre reaction to the human, and I held my breath as I stared into eyes that darkened and narrowed as they clashed with mine. The lack of submission sent a jolt down my spine and I swallowed hard, off kilter from nothing more than looking at the human. That didn’t bode well. Not at all.




Author Bio:
Beth Laycock’s books are influenced by her time living overseas as well as the gritty, urban landscape of the north of England where she grew up. She has been reading romance since she was old enough to tell herself that line every book lover does—just one more chapter.

As a teenager, she attempted to write her first novel, and many more since then are still gathering dust on her bookshelf. It wasn’t until she discovered the M/M genre that her muse showed up and refused to quit telling her stories about beautiful men finding love together. She hasn’t stopped scribbling them down since.

Beth’s muse usually shows up when she is in the shower, is allergic to cleaning, rarely lets her watch TV, and insists she drinks copious amounts of coffee so she can turn caffeine into words.

Beth’s books range from sweet to sexy, long to short, contemporary to paranormal, but a HEA is always guaranteed.


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EMAIL: beth@bethlaycock.com








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Monday, September 14, 2020

Monday's Memorial Moment: 🎧Robby Riverton - Mail Order Bride by Eli Easton🎧


Summary:
Being a fugitive in the old west shouldn’t be this much fun.

The year is 1860. Robby Riverton is a rising star on the New York stage. But he witnesses a murder by a famous crime boss and is forced to go on the run--all the way to Santa Fe.

When he still hasn't ditched his pursuers, he disguises himself as a mail order bride he meets on the wagon train. Caught between gangsters that want to kill him, and the crazy, uncouth family of his "intended", Robby's only ally is a lazy sheriff who sees exactly who Robby is -- and can't resist him.

Trace Crabtree took the job as sheriff of Flat Bottom because there was never a thing going on. And then Robby Riverton showed up. Disguised as a woman. And betrothed to Trace’s brother. If that wasn’t complication enough, Trace had to find the man as appealing as blueberry pie. He urges Robby to stay undercover until the danger has passed.

But a few weeks of having Robby-Rowena at the ranch, and the Crabtree family will never be the same again.

2nd Listen Audiobook Review September 2020:
How has it been 2 years since I listened to Eli Easton's Mail Order Bride? I was looking for something to listen to and decided to revisit Robbie, Trace, and everything that went on in Flat Bottom. Afterwards when I was putting my blog post together and realized it had been 2 years, I was shocked because I remembered everything as if it had only been last month.  I really don't have anything to add to my original reviews other than to say that Robbie Riverton: Mail Order Bride is as brilliant and thrilling as it was the first time and I look forward to many more re-listens.

Original Audiobook Review August 2018:
I don't really have anything to add to my original ebook review as far as the story goes.  I don't usually do a re-read(or listen in this case) this soon after the first time so I was a little reluctant to do so but I loved Robbie and Trace's story so much that I decided to give a go even though its only been a couple of months.  Well, I still loved the boys and was blown over by Matthew Shaw's voice.  I tend to need to listen to an audiobook a few times because I find myself zoning out because I'm concentrating too much on what I'm doing but not with Mail Order Bride.  Truth is I felt like a bystander in Flat Bottom, if I looked up I would see Robbie riding in to town with the girls or Trace's badge glint in the sun as he walked by.  Matthew Shaw really brings this story to life and even though it might not have been my first choice to listen so soon after reading Robbie Riverton: Mail Order Bride, I'm glad I did and look forward to many more listens.

Original ebook Review May 2018:
Robbie Riverton had a bright future ahead of him on the stage in 1860 New York but one fateful night everything changed.  Witnessing a murder he hightails it out of town and while on the wagon train he meets mail order bride Rowena Fairchild.  Through a few more twists of fate, Robbie takes Rowena's place with the Crabtree family. But when he meets son Trace, sheriff of Flat Bottom, more than his life is at risk.   Nothing will ever be the same for each member of the Crabtrees after they welcome Robbie Riverton, mail-order bride into their home.

How can one not fall in love with Robbie Riverton is beyond me, he is so absolutely adorable and anyone who can make such an impact on a whole family in such a short space of time is aces in my book.  Trace is no slouch himself when it comes to enjoyable, would I call him adorable? Probably not but he is certainly lovely and one I rooted for from the very first moment we meet him.  You just know the fire between them will rival any shoot-'em-up the Old West has to offer.  Now I won't give anything away but I will say that Robbie's journey is one I won't soon forget and I'll be re-visiting on more than one occassion in the future.

I haven't read everything in Eli Easton's library but what I have read has never failed to entertain and Mail Order Bride is no different.  Taking her spin on romance, her character development, her way with scenery and dialogue, and putting it into a historical setting was just one of the best reading treats I could ask for.  Was it a bit of a far-reaching idea for 1860? Some might see it that way but history does contain some interesting twists and turns.  This is fiction after all and Robbie Riverton: Mail Order Bride is clever, fun, sweet, and entertaining from beginning to end with just the right amount of heat and humor, I hated to say goodbye to the lads when I swiped the final page.  Who knows maybe if we're real nice and real lucky we'll see the boys again in one of Miss Eaton's famous Christmas storiesπŸ˜‰πŸ˜‰ but if this was the only time we see them, Holy Hannah Batman! what a winner!

RATING:


Chapter One
March 15, 1860
New York City
“It was from Aunt Dinah’s quilting party, I was seeing Nellie home!”

Robby’s melodic tenor echoed in the narrow corridors backstage as he made his way to his dressing room. He exchanged winks, grins, or backslaps with everyone who squeezed past him. He was in a damned pleasant mood. The standing ovation they’d just received had put him on top of the world.

“Seeeing Nellie hoooome!” he bellowed in the big finish as he banged into his dressing room. His name, ROBBY RIVERTON, was on the door, and there was a water pitcher and a single rose on the table. This was the good life.

He plopped down at his dressing table. In the mirror Jenny Daley appeared, looking like an exotic flower in her red kimono. She leaned against the doorframe. “How you have a scrap of energy after three shows a day, I’ll never know.”

“Tis the reward of a pure and saintly heart,” Robby said, laying on a thick Irish brogue.

“Bollocks. You’re depressingly young. That’s all.”

Jenny Daley was a huge star of the New York stage. She played Lady Macbeth in their current production, and easily convinced the audience she could bend a man to her will with her raven hair and green eyes. She’d managed to outrun her age so far, though Robby figured she had to be nearing forty.

“You hardly even break a sweat,” Jenny complained.

“Nonsense. I’m wet as the Hudson in unmentionable places. Lord, I’m parched.” Robby reached for the pitcher. It was vilely hot onstage, especially under the costumes and makeup. He tilted the china pitcher over a glass, but nothing came out.

“Flory!” he bellowed. He went to the doorway, squishing Jenny aside, and stuck his head out. “Flory!”

Jenny stuck a delicate finger in her ear. “And to think I once had excellent hearing.”

Flory, a mousy little thing of about fourteen, came running. “Yes, Mr. Riverton?”

Robby ignored the hearts in her eyes. “My pitcher is empty again. How many times must I remind you to keep it filled?”

Her face fell. “Sorry, Mr. Riverton.” She bobbed a curtsy and ran off with the pitcher. With a huff, Robby returned to his chair.

“Don’t be hard on the girl,” Jenny tsked. “She’s awfully mashed on you, Robby.”

Robby began wiping off his makeup. “You forget, I was that girl. I labored backstage for four years, and I always had water ready for the actors.”

“Yes, but you are smart and capable,” Jenny said gently. “Thank God not everyone is, or we’d have even more competition than we have now.”

Robby gave her a smile in the mirror. “You’re right. Though how you stay so humble, I’ll never know.”

She made a face. “I’ve been set down a peg or two in my life. Now, are you coming out with us tonight? Don’t tell me you’re working, for I shall despair if you say no.”

Robby grimaced. “Not tonight, me bonny lass. I have an audition tomorrow. Need to memorize my lines.”

“Oh? What’s the play?” Jenny slunk into the room with renewed interest.

“Nick of the Woods at the Tripler.” Longing shot through Robby’s chest. He really wanted this role.

“Ooh! That ghastly thing?” She looked delighted.

“Yes, life in the wilds of Kentucky. It’s quite bloody, you know.”

“The play is? Or the real Kentucky?”

“Both.”

She shuddered. “Lands. You couldn’t drag me any farther west than Philadelphia.”

“I concur. But playing a frontiersman would be loads of fun. Don’t you think? All that growling and snarling and…hair.” Robby made claws with his hands and grimaced horribly at her in the mirror.

She laughed. “Darling, you growl like a kitten. You’d sooner be cast as Nick’s wife. Want to borrow my red dress for the audition?” She smiled at him prettily.

“Nick doesn’t have a wife. He has animal pelts, and knives, and a vengeful heart.”

“Pity. You’d be a shoe-in for Mrs. Of-the-Woods.”

Robby would never live down the fact that his first big break at Burton’s New Theater had been in a female role. He’d been working in costuming when the actress playing Ophelia fell ill with the flu, as did the understudy and several other cast members. Hamlet had been his mother’s favorite, and Robby had every line of the play memorized. He’d stepped forward and, at nineteen, got his first role on stage. The audience and critics had loved his “tender insanity.”

Well, why not? Men played women’s roles in the olden days. If anything, Robby considered it a double feat of acting—playing the part of “Miss Angeline Smith” who was playing the role of Ophelia. He was blasted proud of that performance.

“I can growl,” he said firmly. “When you come see me in Nick of the Woods, I shall put you into convulsions of terror.”

 “Well, good luck, my bene boy. We shall miss you tonight. You know what they say about all work and no play.”

She kissed his cheek and glided from the room, a picture of grace.

She didn’t give Robby the chance to respond, but what he said about all work and no play was that if he were very diligent, and very lucky, he might one day be as famous as Jenny Daley.

Robby finished removing his makeup, thanked Flory and gave her a sweet smile when she returned with water, and put on an undershirt and dressing gown. He settled down with a bottle of wine an admirer had sent backstage, turned up the lantern to its highest pitch, and dove into the realm of the dreadful Nick. He paced and grimaced, shouted and groaned.

He could growl, damn it. He needed a role like Nick. He’d been playing pretty boys for five years now, always the son or the young, naive lover. Hence his role as MacDuff’s son in the current production and not Macbeth. He needed to prove he was ready for mature roles despite his baby face.

He was so focused on his task that he lost track of time. Then tiredness hit him like a sledgehammer from out of the blue, and he could barely keep his eyes open. He glanced at his pocket watch. It was just after midnight. The unsavory elements would be out and about, and it was a twelve-block trek to Mrs. Grassley’s boarding house. He should have left hours ago.

When he exited the back door of the theater, the sky was pitch black and the city was transformed by the flicker and shadow of gas lamps. It was cold, the sort of cold that made the inside of your nose crisp and brought tears to your eyes. Robby pulled on his gloves, struggling with them under the back door’s gas light. At least the cold woke him up. If he walked fast, he’d be home in no time.

Only he got no farther than one step. He was suddenly aware that near the opening of the alley were moving shapes. There was a shouted, “No, please,” and a barely there snick of a knife.

Robby blinked in surprise. His eyes adjusted to the shadows just in time to see the act. Two large men held the arms of a dignified-looking fellow with gray hair, an elaborate moustache, and a three-piece suit. A fourth man, a short bulldog of a brute with thick jowls, a heavy wool coat, and a bowler hat, attacked the gray-haired man, jabbing forward with his right arm. The victim’s face contorted with agony as the knife plunged. Bowler-Hat stabbed again and again until the man with the gray hair slumped, lifeless. And still the knife moved once, twice.

Robby was so close, he could see the sticky glint on the blade.

He only realized he was panting in terror by the rapid cloud of condensation that formed in front of his face and faded, formed and faded. Then he made an involuntary sound, a sort of lowing, and the three men snapped around to look at him.

“Don’t stand there, you nimenogs. Get him!” Bowler-Hat bellowed.

The men who were holding the victim let him drop to the cobblestones. It wasn’t until they’d taken a step toward Robby that he found the sense to move. He briefly considered going back into the theater, but the door had locked behind him, and there was no time to muck around with keys now. He dove to the right. The alley wasn’t a dead end, thank God. He came out on Centre Street, the sound of his pursuers loud in his ears. He ran harder and faster than he’d ever run before in his life, on and on, street after street, turning as often as he could. He finally turned onto a familiar street and, seeing no one when he glanced behind him, dove into the Long Shoreman.

Jenny and her friends frequented the establishment often, and Robby was not unknown there. The owner, Phil, was a good sort. After no more than a brief plea, Phil stuffed Robby into his private office then vanished again. With his ear pressed to the door, Robby heard Phil’s voice and the angry demands of his pursuers. The back door banged as someone rushed out.

For a long moment all was silent, and there was only the pounding of Robby’s blood in his ears. Then a light tap on the door startled him. Robby stepped back to let Phil in.

Phil carried a whiskey bottle and two shot glasses, and he filled them. “They’re gone. Here, drink this.”

Robby took his and swallowed gratefully.

“What the hell was that about?” Phil grumbled. “Is The Weekly Sun hiring thugs as their critics now?”

“I saw a murder.” Robby’s voice was hushed, as if it were afraid to come out. He dropped down onto a settee crowded with coats, the strength leaving his limbs.

“No kiddin’? Did ya really?” Phil didn’t sound especially surprised. Murders were far from uncommon in New York City. “Well, we can smuggle you outta here after a bit, and you should be all right. I told ’em you went out the back and off they went.

Robby shook his head. It had all been such a blur. But a heavy, dark feeling was settling on him, a sense of utter doom and dread. “No, they saw me coming out of the theater. Had to have gotten a good look at my face. There’s a gas lamp above the door.”

“Oh. That’s a bit of rum luck.” Phil pushed aside some coats and sat down next to Robby. He poured them both another shot.

“And I was so thrilled to have that new poster of me stuck up at the front of the Burton too,” Robby said with a bitter laugh.

It had pricked Robby’s pride every time he passed that poster. There were five glass frames hanging at the front of the theater, and several were dedicated to the current and next production, so being featured in one of the remaining slots was the privilege of a drawing attraction.

The poster depicted Robby standing with one foot on a stool, a dashing cape cast over his shoulder, his face angelic as he looked toward the heavens. The costume, complete with leggings and puffy pantaloons, was from his recent role as Laertes in Hamlet. His face, unfortunately, was completely bare in the image, without even whiskers to disguise him. WITH ROBBY RIVERTON the poster proudly announced.

Yes, it was rum luck. The rummiest. Robby wondered how long it would take the men to trace him to Mrs. Grassley’s boarding house. A day? An hour?

“Ah, Robby, I wouldn’t worry about it,” Phil said amiably. “They’re probably some no-accounts who won’t even bother to go look at the front of the theater. Why should they? You saw something, they scared you off, end of story. It was dark, wasn’t it? You probably didn’t get a good look at their faces. They’ve no reason to track you down.”

Robby stared at Phil, that sense of doom settling deeper. Ice crept up his spine and he thought he might cast up his accounts. This couldn’t be happening. Dear Lord, his life was ruined. Scorched earth. He couldn’t go back to the Burton, or any other theater in New York. He probably shouldn’t even go back to Mrs. Grassley’s to collect his things.

Because he had recognized them, or at least one of them. He’d just seen Mose “The Terror” McCann, leader of the Bowery Boys and the most notorious gangster in New York, murder a man in cold blood. And Mose McCann was known for being smart, vicious, and very careful to never leave witnesses.

Robby grabbed Phil’s shoulders with both hands, like he might grab a life raft in a treacherous sea. “You must help me get out of town, Phil. Because if I don’t, I’m a dead man.”

Author Bio:
Having been, at various times and under different names, a minister’s daughter, a computer programmer, a game designer, the author of paranormal mysteries, a fan fiction writer, and organic farmer, Eli has been a m/m romance author since 2013. She has over 30 books published.

Eli has loved romance since her teens and she particular admires writers who can combine literary merit, genuine humor, melting hotness, and eye-dabbing sweetness into one story. She promises to strive to achieve most of that most of the time. She currently lives on a farm in Pennsylvania with her husband, bulldogs, cows, a cat, and lots of groundhogs.

In romance, Eli is best known for her Christmas stories because she’s a total Christmas sap. These include “Blame it on the Mistletoe”, “Unwrapping Hank” and “Merry Christmas, Mr. Miggles”. Her “Howl at the Moon” series of paranormal romances featuring the town of Mad Creek and its dog shifters has been popular with readers. And her series of Amish-themed romances, Men of Lancaster County, has won genre awards.


Eli Easton
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EMAIL: eli@elieaston.com

Matthew Shaw(Narrator)
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Sunday, September 13, 2020

Week at a Glance: 9/7/20 - 9/13/20



















Sunday's Safe Word Shelf: Talos by AG Carothers

Title: Talos
Author: AG Carothers
Series: Bloodlines of Fate #1
Genre: M/M Romance, Paranormal, BDSM
Release Date: September 8, 2020
Cover Design: Samantha Santana, Amai Designs
Cover Illustration: Maberan

Summary:
The Age of Man has passed, and a new age is upon the Earth. An age of magic and technology ruled by the supernatural beings that once hid amongst humanity has begun.

Talos - Vampyr King, Supernatural Council Member, and Despiser of Humans. Fate has a surprise up their sleeve for him.

Bayne - Raised by the human resistance, Would-be Assassin, and Despiser of Supernatural Beings. He's ready to sacrifice himself to kill his enemy.

Bayne is thrust into a world he thinks he knows but quickly discovers his whole life has been built on lies. Talos, perfectly happy ruling his corner of the world, is faced with an unexpected and unwelcome change that comes with the mate chosen by Fate. Together they must discover how to live and, in the end, love one another. But will Fate have more in store for them than just learning to love the species they hate?

Bloodlines of Fate is a new urban fantasy series set in a world destroyed by humans and resurrected by supernatural beings. Fate has many plans for the vampires, fae, unicorns, therianthropes, and humans of this new world. While their mates may be fated, learning to love isn't that easy.

This book contains depictions of gladiatorial combat, snarky fem twinks who will cut you, kings in stilettos, and awkward heats with a pinch of daddy kink.


Talos strode calmly into his office. His skin tingled with pins and needles all over. Odin and Majid were on his heels, and Majid closed the door behind him. Talos leaned on his teak desk as his discovery crashed into him. Claws extended from his fingertips and dug into the dense wood, marring its polished surface.

"Why of all days would this happen today?" Talos asked Fate.

"Brother, what is it?" Odin closed in and put a reassuring hand on Talos' back, but it made his skin crawl. He shrugged Odin off and turned back around.

"It's him." Talos still couldn't believe it. He wanted to race to his bedroom to confirm it, but he had to wait.

Majid cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, it's him?"

Talos looked up at Odin and realization dawned on Odin's face. "Oh, him him?" Talos could only nod. His throat constricted.

"I knew I had to come to you, Brother. And it seems this is why. I was there when our father found his beloved, your pa."

Talos sat on the edge of the desk, crossed his arms, and massaged his temples with one hand. Majid stepped closer, started to put his hand on Talos, then took his hand back with an apologetic smile.

"Congratulations on finding your mate, my old friend."

Talos raised his head with a weary smile. "Thank you, and that was a magnificent display in there. I'll never tire of seeing you get horny." Talos chuckled softly. "Although my new mate called you a horse. Apparently, he's never heard of a black unicorn."

Majid snorted. "He's lucky I can't read his thoughts like you can," he scowled.

Odin's deep booming laugh caused Majid to snort again. Odin cleared his throat nervously, trying to cut off his laughter.

"Your idea to let one of the other resistance members through with him was good. It gave me an idea as to what kind of man my mate is. He was scared but he held his ground. His stubbornness to see his mission through shored him up. It's going to be interesting to see how he reacts to spending an eternity with us leeches."

Majid smirked. "You know how much I like a good impaling."

"I got something you can impale." Odin shook his butt at Majid and Talos snorted out a laugh.

Majid ignored Odin's interruption. "Your mate jumped a little, but you're right. He held steady even when I slowly killed that weakling." He scoffed in disgust. "Like anyone that weak would have made it through the selection process. It's a wonder they survived the games. They were lucky to have been killed by me."

"It is quite an honor. I think it's been a full month since you've impaled someone in the throne room." Talos rubbed his forehead. His skin continued to tingle. "I won't be able to bond with him until his blood is clean."

"Gideon is having the hemodialysis machine brought to your chambers along with a bed he can be properly restrained on. The doctors estimate it'll only take two rounds for his blood to be cleaner than when he was born," Majid reassured Talos.

"He will fight. I have no doubt. And we will most likely have to sedate him," Talos added.

"The sooner you get it done, the better, brother. Your body will not allow you to wait too long."

"It's almost dawn now." Talos looked at the clock on his wall. "Go to bed. Majid will stay up with me to watch over my mate."

Author Bio:
A.G. Carothers is actually a dragon very cleverly disguised as a human. They are a non-binary author of LGBTQIA Romance and Urban Fantasy, who enjoys writing original and entertaining stories. They are very excited to share the worlds they've created with you.

A.G. currently lives in Tennessee with their platonic life partner, who is not a dragon. They yearn to live back in Europe and will some day. In their spare time they are addicted to losing themselves in the lovely worlds created by other authors

A.G. is committed to writing the stories they see in their head without restrictions. Love is blind and doesn't see gender, race, or sexuality.


FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  WEBSITE
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EMAIL: Info@AGCarothers.com 








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Saturday, September 12, 2020

Saturday's Series Spotlight: The Blowhole by Helena Stone


All or Nothing #1
Summary:
If she’s not good enough for all of him, she’d rather have none.

Twenty-one-year-old Amber Sommerville has no idea what she’s in for when she enters an exclusive club in Dublin. But she instantly knows the man who rescues her from a predator is someone special.

Forty-one-year-old Hector Kelly has seen it all before, but one look at Amber leaves him enchanted. Because she’s young and inexperienced, he tells himself he needs to hold back, despite Amber’s obvious desire for more.

When Amber discovers exactly how much Hector has been hiding from her, she gives him an ultimatum. Will Hector be brave enough to share his all with Amber, or is their love doomed from the start?

Little Rainbows #2
Summary:
Can a second chance at love overcome grief and self-doubt?

Eighteen months after her beloved husband died, Heather is ready to take on the world again. Organizing a party in The Blowhole, an exclusive resort on the Irish west coast, is just the ticket.

Jason should be on top of the world. His resort is a success and about to celebrate its first anniversary during a weekend long extravaganza. So why does he feel as if his life doesn’t fit him anymore?

Twenty years after they first met, Jason and Heather are given an unexpected second chance at love. When a threat to Heather’s independence and Jason’s livelihood imperils their budding relationship, will their bond be strong enough to fight for their happy ever after?

This second edition of Little Rainbows has been partially rewritten and completely re-edited.

Now or Never #3
Summary:
When the past intrudes, can two lost souls forge a future together?

Karl’s carefully erected walls are crumbling. Giving up sex and relationships made perfect sense when he was eighteen. For a decade, he poured all his time and effort into his flourishing career. Doubts crept in the first time Karl met Leo and now, after two years of avoiding him, Karl is in charge of training Leo.

Leo loves his life in The Blowhole. Entertaining the guests during explicit shows under Roger’s guidance meets Leo’s needs and keeps his demons at bay. When Roger leaves, Leo’s job expands but he’s assigned to work with Karl, the General Manager who appears to detest him, and Leo’s anxiety blossoms. It wouldn’t be so bad if Leo hadn’t been attracted to Karl from the first moment he saw him.

Two men. A truck-load of insecurities and an attraction that can’t be denied. When the full horror of Leo’s past comes to light, will their fledgling connection be strong enough to weather the storm?

Now or Never #3
I should start off by saying I have not read the first 2 entries in The Blowhole series, I have nothing against M/F pairings, I love any & all well written pairings but over the past 7 years I have primarily read only LGBT genres/pairings.  Now as this is a standalone series, I don't feel I was lost or missing something having started with Now or Never.  I can also honestly add that knowing and loving Helena Stone's work, one day I will go back and read All or Nothing & Little Rainbows.

On to Now or Never.  Karl and Leo are, well simply put: brilliant!  Their chemistry smolders off the page/screen, there is no denying that there is a connection between the two men.  Whether they let that connection be explored is really not in doubt as Helena Stone enjoys her HEA but the journey they have getting to the end is where the real story is told.  Did I want to knock their heads together a few times? Definitely. Did I want to wrap them up in Mama Bear hugs as well? Of course.  It's those mutual moments of screaming "Take a chance!" and "It's going to be alright." that really told me I was reading a winner.  In my head I have a list that helps me decide where on the "It's a pleasant read to HOLY HANNAH BATMAN!" a book falls and one of those boxes is that kind of warring emotions the characters invoke in me, so when I can tick that box as I did in Now or Never, I knew I had a gem burning up my kindle.

I'll just add that considering the place and type of business Karl manages at The Blowhole club, Now or Never is actually quite mild in the kink department.  Even though the kink levels are relatively mild there is never any mistaking the heat between the two leads.

Now or Never is a journey of discovery or perhaps a better word would be acceptance, opening oneself up to the whole you that desires to be free.  There is heat, romance, chemistry, drama, angst . . . truth is Karl and Leo's journey is beautifully told running the gauntlet of feels that makes you route for them as a pair but also as individuals from the get go. Wonderful read.

RATING:


All or Nothing #1
“You’re serious?” Amber knew her laugh sounded nervous, but she couldn’t stop it from escaping her mouth. When the masked man had first walked up to her and told her to kneel, she’d thought it was a joke, orchestrated by her sister. It would have been just like Sinead and her mates to do something like that. Now, she wasn’t so sure. Whoever this was, he clearly expected her to kneel before him. He was in for one hell of a disappointment.

“Very serious. Did you really think you could walk into a BDSM club and not obey the rules?” Anger or something very close to it vibrated off the man, and for the first time since he’d approached her, Amber felt a stab of fear. Not that she’d show him her feelings. She lifted her chin and relished the surprise she thought she recognized on what she could see of his face when she looked him straight in the eye.

“I’ve no intention of kneeling for anyone, least of all you.” It took all her strength not to flinch when he raised his hand. She’d no idea if he planned on striking her or just wanted to force her to her knees.

“That’s enough, Carlos.”

The deep, calm voice coming from behind her startled Amber. She wanted to turn around and discover who it belonged to, but knew she couldn’t afford to take her eyes off the man in front of her.

Said man in front of her—Carlos apparently—frowned for a moment, as if confused, as he glanced over her shoulder. “Hector, this has nothing to do with you. Leave us alone to sort this out.” The masked man returned his steely-eyed attention to Amber.

“It does when you’re determined to give all of us a bad name.” The warm voice touched something deep in Amber. She was no damsel in distress and hated relying on others, but she couldn’t help being grateful for the help. She’d no idea what sort of trouble she’d gotten herself into. Which meant she didn’t know how to get herself out of it either.

The anger Amber’d thought she recognized in Carlos’s eyes transformed into fury, and for the first time since he’d addressed her, he fully focused on somebody other than her.

“Stay out of this. I won’t tell you again. Who do you think you are? You disappear for years, and then you presume you can tell me how to behave. Go back to wherever you’ve been hiding and leave this to us real men.”

“Look at her wrist, Carlos. You’re right. You shouldn’t need me to explain how this works.”

Amber glanced at her wrist and the white armband they’d told her to wear when she’d entered the club with the other girls. Apparently, it wasn’t just proof of admission.

“A white armband. I know. I saw that immediately. Doesn’t mean the girl shouldn’t know how to behave.”

Amber’s temper rose. She didn’t enjoy being the subject of a conversation she didn’t appear to have a role in. She opened her mouth, although she’d no idea what she wanted to say, when the sonorous voice behind her beat her to it.

“That’s exactly what it means, Carlos. I don’t like these open nights either, but that’s what this is, and as a result, most people here right now don’t even know there are rules, never mind what they might be. Leave the girl alone and find yourself an experienced submissive.”

Suddenly, it all came together for Amber. Now, she understood why her sister—the bride to be—and her friends had giggled as much as they had when they’d entered the club. She’d read about submissives. She almost smiled but remembered the dicey situation she found herself in just in time. She enjoyed reading about Doms and those who submitted to them. She’d somehow failed to translate those works of fiction into real possibilities. And she’d been slow on the uptake. After all the books she’d read, she should have recognized this club for what it was—far more than “just” a sexy nightclub.

Lost in her thoughts, it took Amber a moment before she became aware of the staring contest taking place between Carlos and the man behind her. The urge to turn around and find out who he was had grown stronger, but she still didn’t want to turn her back on the Dom in front of her. When Carlos gave a small nod before stalking away, Amber relaxed, her body releasing the tension she hadn’t known she’d been holding.

“Thank you.” Amber turned around as she spoke. Everything else she’d wanted to say disappeared from her mind as she looked straight into the dark brown eyes of the man who’d come to her rescue. She tried to figure out what she saw there. She would have called it kindness except she also detected a note of anger in his gaze.

“What were you thinking, girl? Why didn’t you stay with your friends? There’s safety in numbers.” The anger she’d seen in his eyes didn’t translate to his voice. If anything, he sounded resigned, exasperated.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause trouble.” Amber thought for a moment. It was true; she hadn’t meant to create a problem, hadn’t known she might when she allowed the rest of their party to move on while she’d studied her surroundings. “I didn’t know I shouldn’t be on my own. I mean, they never said anything when we came in.”
“How did you end up here anyway?”

Something bristled inside Amber before subsiding again. She didn’t mind answering his questions, just as she hadn’t been upset when she picked up on his anger. It didn’t make sense, because she wasn’t in the habit of letting others tell her what to do or allowing them to interrogate her, but she didn’t question her instinct.

“It’s my sister’s hen party. One of her friends suggested this club.” As she spoke, she remembered the looks Maeve—the friend in question—had exchanged with Mary, another friend. She hadn’t thought anything about it at the time, but now, she realized they’d known exactly what they would be leading the rest of them into. “Sinead, my sister, was already very drunk by then and appeared to be eager to visit a club...any club. I just tagged along.”

She’d resented that. Sure, she was a few years younger than the rest of the party, but she wasn’t a child anymore. She’d bitten her tongue all through the evening as Maeve and some of the others had belittled her. Sinead had defended her earlier on in the evening, but as people kept on pouring drinks into her, she’d soon lost contact with reality.

“But you didn’t stay with them when they moved to the other side of the club?”

His question took her by surprise. How did he know where the others had gone? She looked around until she spotted them on the far side of the dance floor and nearly groaned out loud. It was impossible to miss her sister. Sinead stood on a table in only her underwear and the veil she’d put on earlier. A blush crept up Amber’s neck and cheeks as she wondered what this man might think of her and her sister.

“Ah, I think I understand.” The man’s low chuckle took her by surprise and allowed her to relax again.

“Yes, well. What can I say? I don’t like getting drunk, and I’m not overly fond of some of my sister’s friends. Letting them go on without me for a while seemed like a good idea. If I’d known I’d cause trouble in the process...” She thought for a moment before deciding she had nothing to lose. “Besides, there’s so much to look at here. I had to stop and take it all in.”

She allowed her gaze to roam the club again and only barely repressed the shiver of excitement threatening to run down her spine as she observed more people kneeling on the floor at the feet of others. A girl she’d noticed getting down to her knees earlier was now on her feet, following the man who, Amber assumed, had to be her Dom toward closed double doors on the far side of the room, her head slightly bowed.

She felt her rescuer’s gaze on her and tore her attention back to him.

“By the way, I’m Amber Sommerville. Thank you for stepping in just now. I had no idea how to deal with that man.” Again, she noticed something in his eyes she couldn’t name.

“Hector Kelly.” He took the hand she offered and held it slightly longer than she’d expected. “You should either join your sister or go home, Amber. This is no place for young women on their own.”

“Oh no.” She laughed. “I’ve no intention of going yet. I want to see more. I’ve only read about places like this. I never believed they really existed, never mind could be found in Dublin. Now that I’m here, I want to discover how much of what I considered fiction is in fact real. And I want to know what’s on the other side of those doors.”

She’d no idea how she knew, but she’d no doubt Hector disapproved of her plans. His expression hadn’t changed, and yet she could almost feel his frustration. Tough. She was grateful he’d helped her out of a tricky situation, but it didn’t give him the right to tell her how to spend the rest of her evening. It was a shame though. She would have loved to get to know him better but not if it meant allowing him to make her decisions for her.

“Thank you again, Hector. I’m just going to have a look around before I join the others again.” She took a few moments to really look at him. The slight stutter in her heartbeat took her by surprise, and she dismissed it. Hector was very attractive—not far removed from her image of the ideal man in fact—and he was bossy, which should have been off-putting but, strangely enough, didn’t actually bother her. It was a shame she’d probably never see him again.

The moment she saw him take a deep breath, she turned and walked toward the half-hidden doors at the back of the club. She didn’t want to hear why he thought she should leave.

Little Rainbows #2
The smell of sweat, leather, and almost tangible lust invaded her senses. The sounds of floggers hitting flesh, moans of pleasure, and shrieks of pain brought back memories. Everything she saw, heard, and smelled filled her with a great sense of loss, as well as an unexpected rush of arousal.

A crowd filled the large space Jason steered her toward. She could feel the anticipation in the air and couldn’t escape the excitement buzzing through the room. A path cleared in front of them, and Heather followed Jason to a spot, just outside the exhibition area, giving her a clear view. Her first instinct was to turn around, close her eyes, do anything in her power not to see the scene in front of her. She couldn’t.

It had been so long she could barely remember the sensations displays like this aroused in her. She knew it would hurt later, but right now, she needed to experience those feelings. She’d dealt with the pain for almost two years. She could deal with it for a while longer.

Her breath caught as she watched a man dressed only in dark denim pants lead a naked and blindfolded woman to a bench. Heather studied it more closely. It wasn’t a standard spanking bench. Not with the big dildo fixed near one end.

The man brought the woman to the purpose-built piece of furniture and made her place one foot on a small step before helping her to straddle it. With her other foot positioned on the step on the far side, the woman’s crotch hovered over the phallus. Of course, deprived of her eyesight, she didn’t know that—yet. When the man took the woman’s hands and pulled them forward to the other end of the bench where two pieces of ribbon were waiting to tie them, her body lowered just enough. Heather recognized the moment the woman became aware of the dildo between her legs. Her face tensed, then relaxed into a lazy smile.

Amazement filled Heather when she felt her own face mirror the girl’s satisfied expression. The full and instant reaction of her body to the scene shocked her. Heather’s nipples tightened, and heat and wetness gathered between her legs. She wanted to shake her head, deny the feelings. But she remained still, suddenly hyperaware of Jason’s hands on her hips. For a second she felt the urge to lean back and find some of that physical contact she’d missed for so long. She couldn’t. It was Jason behind her, not Darren. She wanted it to be Darren. She needed to feel him behind her, pressing his hardening cock into her arse, whispering suggestions in her ear. She could hear his voice in her head, telling her all the things he’d be doing to her later, once they were alone. She felt his hands squeeze her hips.

They’re not Darren’s hands. Disappointment shot through her, and she tensed. The hands squeezed again, and some of the anxiety disappeared. No, those weren’t Darren’s hands, it wasn’t her husband and Dom standing behind her, but she couldn’t deny those hands were grounding her, making it possible for her to watch the scene in front of her instead of running away as fast as she could.

She relaxed further and gave her full attention to the beautiful couple. The woman’s hands had been tied to the bench, and the man walked toward her legs. A resounding slap on her arse had the woman slipping down onto the waiting dildo. Her excited groan almost got lost in the gasps coming from the audience. Heather watched as the man talked to the woman, his voice too low to carry to their audience. Whatever he was saying, the woman must have been reacting according to his expectations. He had a satisfied grin as he rubbed his partner’s shapely bum with languid strokes. The woman squirmed, only to stop as soon as the man murmured something else. He took something from his pocket, looked at it, and pressed with his thumb. Instantly a low buzzing sound filled the room, and the woman started moving again. The man’s hand went back to her arse to keep her in place, victim to the vibrations the dildo sent into her core.

“You’re not to come.” For the first time, the man spoke in a voice loud enough to carry to his audience. Heather could feel the crowd around her tensing in sympathy with the woman’s plight. Her own body stiffened, and her vagina contracted while Heather’s breathing quickened. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew Jason had to be aware of all these reactions. His hands were still on her hips, his thumbs stroking her, his presence only adding to the need running through her veins.

Again she forced her attention away from her own body and back to the scene, now nearing its end. The woman appeared to be reaching her limit, moaning loudly and pleading with the man who continued to keep her from moving with his hand. After a few more minutes of what Heather knew was exquisite torture for the woman, the man gave her arse a light slap and walked around the bench to face her. As the woman took advantage of her freedom and bucked herself to a long and violent orgasm, the man bent forward and took her mouth in a long and deep kiss.

Too much. She couldn’t do this. The heat, the love, the way the man so obviously cared for his sub. Memories rushed through Heather’s head, and lights flashed in front of her eyes. She had to get away; she couldn’t breathe. Turning around, she blindly stared up at the man behind her, the man she didn’t quite recognize.

“Black… Black. Please…black.”

Now or Never #3
“Well?” The humor in Leo’s voice suggested he knew exactly what dilemma Karl faced.

“Half past seven,” Karl said before dropping his phone on the bedside table.

“So we have time.” Leo continued to squeeze and stroke Karl’s arse. “Good. That gives me a chance to appreciate the view.”

“Not that much time,” Karl muttered. “I’ll have to get showered and changed before going to the office.” Not that there were rules against him wearing casual clothes while on duty, but he preferred not to. Still, he could take thirty minutes without leaving himself with a mad rush to get ready. Which was just as well, since Leo’s ministrations had turned Karl’s morning wood into a rock-hard erection.

“Spoilsport,” Leo muttered.

“I’ll give you spoilsport.”

In one flowing move, Karl turned around, captured Leo by the middle, turned him over, and gave him a slap to his backside. He fully expected his action to result in a playful fight and was surprised when Leo stilled. Leo’s arse cheek had a subtle red glow, and Karl couldn’t take his eyes off it. Moments passed while the mark faded, and Leo remained motionless. Had Karl gone too far? He wished he knew how all this worked. Unable to come up with answers and not sure how to frame the question, Karl moved until he could press his lips against the now almost invisible glow.

“That’s nice too.” Leo’s muttered words were barely audible since his mouth was pressed against the pillow.

Too? Maybe his impulsive action hadn’t been wrong. He’d have to think about what, if anything, that meant, but not now. He turned Leo onto his back and was happily surprised to see his erect cock rest heavily on Leo’s belly. Karl’s mouth watered.

“My face is here, you know.” Amusement was clear in Leo’s voice.

“Pretty as you are,” Karl said without changing his focus, “I like what I’m looking at right now.” He saw a drop of precum emerge and licked his lips.

“So I see.” Leo’s voice was filled with heat. “Just looking, are you?”

Karl recognized a challenge when he heard one. Not that he needed the encouragement. He’d been thinking about this ever since Leo had given him a blow job. He closed the distance between his mouth and Leo’s dick and lapped up the glistening pearl. The taste was…unlike anything he’d ever had in his mouth before. Definitely not unpleasant, although Karl wasn’t sure he’d call it tasty.

Curiosity pushed his musings to the back of his mind. Karl took Leo’s cock into his mouth, sucking lightly and swirling his tongue around the head, just because he remembered how much he’d enjoyed it when Leo did the same to him.

“Ohhhh.” The sound Leo made was a mixture of surprise and pleasure. “Move.” Leo shifted on the bed, maneuvering both of them until Leo could get his mouth on Karl’s dick.

When Leo swallowed most of his erection down, the lust coursing through Karl’s veins made him forget to suck on Leo’s cock. Then he tried to copy the move but had to pull back when he almost choked.

Author Bio:
Helena Stone can’t remember a life before words and reading. After growing up in a household where no holiday or festivity was complete without at least one new book, it’s hardly surprising she now owns more books than shelf space while her Kindle is about to explode.

The urge to write came as a surprise. The realisation that people might enjoy her words was a shock to say the least. Now that the writing bug has well and truly taken hold, Helena can no longer imagine not sharing the characters in her head and heart with the rest of the world.

Having left the hustle and bustle of Amsterdam for the peace and quiet of the Irish Country side she divides her time between reading, writing, long and often wet walks with the dog, her part-time job in a library, a grown-up daughter and her ever loving and patient husband.


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All or Nothing #1

Little Rainbows #2

Now or Never #3

Series