New Release

Trusting Tennyson

Trusting Tennyson by KD Ellis

General Release Date: 9th August 2022

Word Count: 92,524 Book Length: SUPER NOVEL Pages: 363



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Book Description

Tennyson thought this would be just another undercover assignment. Catching feelings for two traumatized men wasn’t part of the plan. When FBI Agent Liam Tennyson was embedded in the La Familia cartel, he didn’t expect to meet not one but two young men whose terrified eyes haunt his dreams—and stir up feelings he thought long buried. Asher Downs left his homophobic family behind the day he earned his high school diploma. With little more than a bus ticket to his name, he moves to Austin to meet his online boyfriend, Devon. Unfortunately for Asher, life doesn’t always go according to plan. Misha might have been born as Dimitri, but now he answers to whatever name Master gives him. Snaring another innocent young man into this life is the last thing Misha desires. But Master gets what Master wants—and Master wants a matching set of toys to play with. When a mole in the justice department compromises Tennyson’s identity—and jeopardizes his plan to rescue Misha and Asher—Tennyson is left with no choice but to go on the lam. Can the two traumatized boys learn to trust him to keep them safe? Reader advisory: This book references child trafficking, abuse and Daddy play. It is best read as book three in a series.


The boy on the screen was pretty. Blond, with copper-lined blue eyes—cornflower, not steel—and pouty lips made shiny from gloss, he looked like a doll. Men would pay thousands to fuck him and even more to fuck him up. It wasn’t hard to see why Master was enamored. Misha hated him. Misha hated everything the boy stood for on the other end of a computer screen, thousands of miles away. He probably lived in some nice suburb with a white picket fence, with parents who paid for braces without complaint, drove him to swim classes and sat down for family dinners consisting of more than just oatmeal and water. Misha hated his amateur videos that taught boys how to apply makeup, his comparisons of drugstore makeup brands and his mock fashion shows as he strutted around in skirts and heels and lacy blouses. If the boy weren’t so pretty, if his videos hadn’t gotten so popular, he could have stayed under the radar and Misha would still be Master’s favorite. The best whore. The prettiest. The most obedient. The good boy. Instead of sitting there, Master’s breath damp on the back of his neck while Misha crept his fingers over the keyboard to lure in his replacement. The pretty boy must get thousands of messages a day. Maybe Misha’s wouldn’t register, buried beneath the rest. Maybe he’d get it but not reply, and Misha would be safe. Master’s attention, and his hands on Misha’s body, might terrify him, but not as much as the idea of losing it. * * * * Asher Downs rattled his bedroom doorknob for the third time, just in case it had somehow come unlocked. Then, and only then, with his heart pounding in his chest, did he drag out the old Nike shoebox from under his bed, the one that used to hold his soccer cleats. Now, it hid his makeup case. It was plastic and cheap, much like the makeup inside, odds and ends he’d bought discounted at the drugstore on the corner with change he’d picked up from the sidewalk and pilfered from the ashtray in the Buick, one lonely quarter at a time. With reverence, he carried the case over to his desk-turned-vanity. The mirror was a cheap thing, bought on sale because it was cracked, the glass spiderwebbed from the top of the frame down one side. When his parents were home, he kept it tucked in the back of the closet, under a ratty baseball jersey he’d outgrown as a preteen. His phone was already secured in his makeshift tripod—leaning against a book, the bottom half-inch tucked behind a two-pound dumbbell so it wouldn’t slide forward. As soon as he laid out his makeup, he could start the video. His lipstick was barely a nub of pink in the cracked tube, his eyeshadow more dust than pigment. Even his foundation wasn’t quite right—a bit too dry and a little too light for his sun-kissed, boy-next-door skin, tanned from playing football each summer with the church youth group. These broken beauties were his prized possessions, worth more to him than the collectible baseball cards in their little plastic sleeves on his bookshelf or the signed poster of Kobe that his dad had been so excited to hang up when Asher had started high school. Before Asher had gotten caught kissing the captain of the basketball team under the bleachers. Before the mandatory after-school meetings with Pastor Luke twice a week to ‘examine his soul’. Now, his little brother Ryder wasn’t even allowed in the same room with him, his dad could barely look at him without scowling and his mother locked the cabinet doors in the bathroom as if she needed to hide her feminine products from his perverted eyes. She should have locked her makeup away instead, back when he’d been a boy and had first discovered the magic it held. The way a bit of shadow could make his eyes piercing, soften his jaw or sharpen his cheekbones… How a little color could make him look happy, even when inside he felt like dying. He’d come a long way since the first time he’d decided to film himself doing this, a silent protest against his parents that he’d devised under the influence of Dad’s bitter liquor, pilfered from the expensive stash he kept on top of the fridge. He hadn’t expected the video to go viral. Now, he filmed sober, but nerves still birthed butterflies in his stomach. The fear of getting caught, which had him rattling his doorknob again, mingled with the excitement of watching his view counter tick steadily upward. He had almost a hundred thousand subscribers now, enough to put a little money into the secret bank account he’d opened as soon as he’d turned eighteen. He could use it for better makeup or a ring light, but he was saving it to escape, maybe move out West, somewhere he wouldn’t have to hide anymore. He’d dipped into it once already for a better laptop after his old one had crapped out. He was going to need to upgrade his phone soon, too—an expense he couldn’t avoid but was delaying as long as he was able. His subscribers were already starting to comment on the graininess of the videos, and those wouldn’t take long to become complaints. Mom promised he could stay with them until he graduated, but that was it, leaving him with just over a month to get a plan in place. College was out of the question. Unlike his younger brother Ryder, he wasn’t a computer genius who already had a dozen scholarships to choose from, and unlike they would for Ryder, Mom and Dad would never cover his expenses. If he wanted out, he was going to have to do it on his own, a thought that finally motivated him to draw in a breath, plaster on a smile and push the red circle to start filming. “Everything sucks and we’re all dying, but I’m going to look pretty doing it. Who’s ready to play with the pretty paint and give themselves a plus ten to their charisma check?” Asher jumped in with his quirky and somewhat nerdy greeting, smothering his real-world concerns beneath the joy that he got from doing makeup. It wouldn’t last long—only until the video ended—but for now, for these handful of minutes, he was going to enjoy it.

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About the Author

KD Ellis

KD Ellis is a professional cat wrangler by day, and an author by night. She moved from a small town to an even smaller village to live with her husband and wife and their two children. She loves reading—anything with men loving men. She writes queer romance in between working her two jobs and cuddling her pets—all six of them, which confuses the turtle.


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New Release

Horribly Harry

Horribly Harry by Lisa Henry & Sarah Honey

Book 2 in the Bad Boyfriends, Inc. series

Word Count: 65,288 Book Length: NOVEL Pages: 253



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Book Description

  Bad Boyfriend, Inc—when you can’t find a good boyfriend, why not hire a bad one instead? To supplement his income while he’s completing his Early Education degree, Harry Townsend hires himself out as a terrible date—for a set fee, he’ll horrify parents and family members in all sorts of interesting ways. But when it comes to actual relationships—and sex—Harry doesn’t get the appeal. He doesn’t get the same tingly feelings everyone else seems to when they meet someone attractive, and he’s fine with that. He’d rather spend his evenings watching TV anyway. Jack Windsor abandoned his uni degree to do an apprenticeship as a mechanic, much to his parents’ dismay. He’s happy with his choices, but leaving uni meant losing his accommodation, and now he’s crashing on his sister Mia’s couch. It isn’t ideal, but it’s only until he finds something else—which is proving difficult in Sydney’s brutal rental market. When Jack almost kills Harry with a strawberry smoothie, he discovers that not only was Harry’s disastrous date with Mia a set up, but that Harry is looking for a roommate. Moving in with Harry is great, if only he wasn’t so distractingly cute—and totally uninterested in Jack. Except as they grow closer as friends, for the first time in his life, Harry tells Jack he’s developing feelings for him—tingly ones. But how can Harry and Jack be together when Jack’s family thinks that Harry is the worst human being in the universe? And how can Jack convince them that his Bad Boyfriend is the best boyfriend he’s ever had, without admitting that Mia hired him to be terrible to them? When an approaching family event brings everything to a head, Jack’s going to have to step up to prove to Harry that he wants him in his life. And it might just take some bad timing, some good luck and the ugliest suit known to mankind.


“Hello, Beryl,” Harry said through clenched teeth as he slid the garish Hawaiian shirt onto the counter. Beryl narrowed her one good eye at him. “Mr Townsend. I believe you’re banned from this shop.” Harry stared her down as he lifted his chin. “No. I spoke to Agnes, and she said that you’re not in charge so you can’t ban anyone. And she said, ‘looking at someone funny’ wasn’t grounds for a ban anyway.” A flicker of fear passed through her good eye and, he thought, something almost like admiration, too. She clearly never would have thought he’d have the balls to go above her head to Agnes, but she’d underestimated him and his need for this incredibly ugly Hawaiian shirt. It was blue, with a typical background of islands and boats and palm trees and flowers, but what made it truly terrible was that, at one time, it had been someone’s custom gag gift. Harry had no idea whose grinning face it was that had been printed all over the fabric, but the second he’d seen it hanging in the slightly grimy front window of the Newtown Op Shop, he’d known he had to have it. The guy on the shirt had a combover. It was perfect! Beryl’s mouth pressed into a thin, wrinkled line as she tugged the shirt over and inspected the tag. “Twenty dollars,” she announced. “It says five.” Beryl reached up and adjusted her not-even-close-to-flesh-coloured eyepatch. She told people she’d recently had cataract surgery, but Harry suspected she was hiding an evil eye. The sort that would melt people’s faces off if she looked at them. “Agnes might be the manager, but I’m in charge of pricing, and this shirt is twenty dollars.” She picked up a pen from the jar beside the cash register and changed the price. “I need that shirt!” Her sour mouth turned up in a grin. “And you can have it, for twenty dollars.” She tapped the handwritten sign taped to the side of the register—No arguing with staff. “That sign wasn’t there last week.” Beryl’s grin widened. “I wrote it when I saw you at the door.” Harry gasped. “But I really need that shirt, Beryl! Please!” She unpeeled the sign from the register, wrote Or begging on it, then stuck it back up. Harry drew a deep breath, then wished he hadn’t, because, like all op shops, this one smelled musty and weird. He pulled his wallet out of the pocket of his jeans. It was depressingly thin. He tugged out a twenty, watching Beryl’s eye light up with victory, then hummed and put it back. “Actually, I think I’ll save my money.” Beryl glowered at him. “Yeah,” Harry said, even though she hadn’t asked him anything. “I came past the bakery on the way here, and they were just icing the coffee scrolls. I might have to buy a couple. They’re so good. They always sell out really quickly, don’t they? Like, there probably won’t be any left at all in about twenty minutes, once word gets out on the street.” Beryl’s sweet tooth was legendary, and it was the only sweet thing about her. She looked at her watch. “Oh, well,” Harry said. “I guess I’ll just…browse some more. Maybe find something in my price range.” He stared at her and she stared back at him. He sighed. “It’ll probably take me a while. A good, long while.” Beryl vibrated with murderous rage. Four minutes later and five dollars poorer, he was stepping outside the op shop with the ugly Hawaiian shirt in his backpack. When he wore it, it was going to feel like victory. * * * * Harry met Angie Lau outside the old geology building where she was sitting with a group of friends. She was short and button-nosed, and wearing a bright pink sweater with a cat on it. Harry was tempted to show her his amazingly ugly Hawaiian shirt, then thought he’d better not, just in case she wasn’t wearing the sweater ironically. “Hi, I’m Harry.” Angie’s friends looked him up and down speculatively. Angie sighed and shoved her lunch containers into a tote bag before climbing to her feet. “I’m Angie. Let’s go talk over here.” Harry walked with her to the shade of a large tree. “When we talked on the phone, you said you were interested in a lunch date? With your parents, right?” Angie chewed on her bottom lip and bobbed her head in a nod. “Tell me about them,” he suggested. “What are you looking for out of this? Do you have a boyfriend they don’t approve of?” Her eyes grew large. “No! I don’t have a boyfriend. I don’t want a boyfriend. I want to do my Master’s, but my dad is super old-fashioned and thinks that if I study any more my womb will shrivel up and fall out, and my mum agrees with him, and last week we were arguing and I said I was sick of them trying to set me up with every nice Chinese boy they meet, and Mum said that wasn’t true, and they’d be happy with literally any boy I dated, as long as I found one.” She stopped at last and drew a breath. “I’m babbling, aren’t I?” “It’s fine,” Harry assured her. “So you want to test that theory?” Angie rolled her eyes. “It’s so stupid! But they’re driving me nuts, and my friend Anna said she knew this girl who hired this fake boyfriend who was a theatre kid, and…” She shrugged. “And here I am.” “That would be Ambrose,” he said. “I took over from him. Okay, so basically you want to turn up to lunch with a boyfriend who is so awful they’ll be happier you’re single, right?” She flashed him an anxious smile. “Right.” “Okay,” he said. “So, the deal is, you pay for my lunch and also my fee on top of that. I have like a sliding scale thing, depending on how big you want me to go, or if I have to get anyone else involved.” Her brow crinkled. “Anyone else?” “Yeah, for an extra fifty my housemate will turn up and say he’s my parole officer and remind me that I can’t be within two hundred metres of a school.” Angie’s eyes grew even larger. “For an extra hundred, he’ll pretend to be a detective and arrest me on a warrant.” “Oh, wow. I don’t think any of that is necessary.” “Okay, then. What flavour of awful did you want? Ambrose specialised in ‘hot but an asshole’ but, well”—Harry gestured to his distinctly un-muscled physique—“I’m built in a way that lends itself more towards awkwardly terrible. Bad clothes, bad past, ‘society’s out to get me’ kind of thing. Would you prefer me to be unemployed, or working at something really questionable?” Angie gave a grin that was ever so slightly evil. “Definitely unemployed. And if you could turn up late and drunk, that’d be ideal.” “Easy done.” Harry nodded. “I do a great sloppy drunk. Now, let’s talk rates.”

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About the Author

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. 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. Find out more at Lisa’s website and blog. You can follow her on Bookbub and sign up to her newsletter.

Sarah Honey

Sarah started life in New Zealand. She came to Australia for a working holiday, loved it, and never left. She lives in Western Australia with her partner, two cats, two dogs and a life-size replica TARDIS. She spends half her time at a day job and the rest of her time reading and writing about clueless men falling in love. Her proudest achievements include having adult kids who will still be seen with her in public, the ability to make a decent sourdough loaf, and knowing all the words to Bohemian Rhapsody. Awfully Ambrose will be her fifth published novel in collaboration with Lisa Henry.


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Release Blitz

Mooky: Odin’s Fury Motorcycle Club by Victoria Jayne

Title: Mooky
Series: Odin’s Fury Motorcycle Club
Author: Victoria Jayne
Genre: Adult Contemporary Romance/MC Romance
Release Date: August 9, 2022

Not all love stories start with tattoos and motorcycles…

Blue’s life is right on course. Now that she’s gotten involved with the Odin’s Fury Motorcycle Club, not only has she made great friends, but she’s fallen head over heels for the club’s enforcer, Mooky. Yeah, she’s his woman, but as his apprentice, she’s also within arm’s reach of her dream job—becoming a tattoo artist.

Dream man, dream job, all on the way to her dream life.

Until everything shatters.

Mooky should’ve come clean sooner. He thought he could settle it before Blue found out. Now, it’s too late. The truth could expose the club business, or worse, it could cost him Blue.

Cutting ties with Mooky would cost her the life that she’s only just found—that she doesn’t want to lose. But staying makes Blue question the very person she is—or she thought she was.


Cover Reveal

CHRIS by Nancy Brown

Nancy Brown
(Cross Security, #3)
Publication date: September 9th 2022
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense

This will be a job from hell…
I knew that from the moment I laid eyes on her.

Ex- MI6 agent Chris Winters lives by the rules. The most important rule of all: no messing around with a client. It works for him. Until it doesn’t. His newest job for Cross Security should be simple. Poppy Jones, the hottest swimwear and lingerie model on the planet, has a stalker… a ghost from her past who is coming to collect what he believes is his. Chris is to protect her and find out who is issuing the threats.

Simple. Cut and Dry.

Until it’s not.

Their chemistry is off the charts. But even as Chris fights his attraction to Poppy and discovers there is more to her than meets the eye, the real threat comes not from her stalker, but from the growing connection between them.

If he puts everything on the line, including his heart, will Chris still be able to keep her safe? Or will the ghost from Poppy’s past succeed in taking what he believes is his?

It’s a dangerous game to play. Who will succeed and who will fail?

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Author Bio:

Nancy Carolyn Brown is an author of contemporary romance, fond of writing love stories about hunky badass men endowed with massive hearts, and strong heroines with just the right mix of sweet and sass… flaming hot chemistry and thrilling nail biting suspense is always guaranteed!

She loves cosmos and chocolate and a swoony good book with a strong storyline.

She lives in sunny southern Alberta, Canada with her high school sweetheart husband and naughty Bengal cat. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys the simple things in life like spending time with family and friends, reading and running with her favorite playlist blasting in her ears.

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Book Tour

Reigniting Chase by Jeanne St. James

Title: Reigniting Chase
Author: Jeanne St. James
Genre: M/M Romance
Release Date: July 30, 2022
Cover Design: Golden Czermak @ FuriousFotog

“Absolutely beautiful book…Jeanne St. James has done it again. The pure raw emotion in this book will take your breath away from the very beginning.” ★★★★★ Amazon Review

An unexpected collaboration between two authors that’s hot enough to spark a fire…

After an excruciating loss, I’m desperate for a fresh start.
Away from the painful memories.
Away from everyone I know and anyone who knows my story.
That’s how I end up in Eagle’s Landing, Pennsylvania.
As a bestselling author, my main reason for moving to a remote mountain cabin is to overcome the writer’s block that crushed my creativity for the past two years. My hope is to rediscover my words in the quiet, small town where no one knows me. Or my past.
A place where I can blend in enough that I become invisible.

Even though Chase, one of my favorite authors, insists he wants to be left alone, I refuse to let him wallow in whatever’s drowning him.
As a local bookstore owner and author myself, I’m intrigued by the man who’s a master of the written word. Unfortunately, his social skills could use a lot of work.
Even so, I’m determined to pull the irritable and frustrating man out of the dark pit he’s fallen into and back to the surface, no matter how hard he fights it. I only hope dragging Chase down that fiery path just might reignite his spark and that I don’t get burned in the process.

Note: Please check the content warning before reading or purchasing. It can be found at the beginning of the book (accessible by Amazon’s “look inside” feature or by downloading the sample) as well as on my website. This standalone gay romance has a guaranteed HEA, no cheating and no cliffhanger.

JEANNE ST. JAMES is a USA Today and international bestselling romance author who loves writing about strong women and alpha males. She was only thirteen when she first started writing. Her first published piece was an erotic short story in Playgirl magazine. She then went on to publish her first romance novel in 2009. She is now an author of over fifty contemporary romances. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages, including interracial. Want to read a sample of her work? Download a free sampler book here:

To keep up with her busy release schedule check her website at or sign up for her newsletter:



Release Blitz

Rihanna’s Rancher

Rihanna’s Rancher by Bella Settarra

General Release Date: 9th August 2022

Word Count: 67,263 Book Length: NOVEL Pages: 267



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Book Description

  There’s no time for love when you’re only passing through town…is there? When Rihanna Richards takes a job as the new bank manager in Pelican’s Heath, she is relieved to leave her life in the city behind, especially with all the pitiful expressions of those who are only too aware of how Phil Cartwright dumped her shortly before their wedding. Ace Blenheim, the new foreman at the Shearer Ranch, also came to the town to put his past break-up behind him. When the two meet, sparks fly. It seems they both have a tendency to wind each other up, and neither is willing to back down. Rihanna’s stubbornness and Ace’s knack for making assumptions lead to a very fiery relationship. Ace gradually learns a little about his beautiful nemesis, though, and softens his approach toward her. After all, he can’t deny how he has begun to feel about her. Rihanna secretly has feelings for the gorgeous cowboy but can’t afford to let her heart get broken again—and, besides, she’s not planning to stay long in Pelican’s Heath. Rihanna discovers that something is very amiss at the bank, and when her life is at stake, will anyone care enough to come to her rescue? And has Ace overstepped the mark completely when he delves into her past?


Rihanna frowned at the figures on the screen. It was going to take a while to get her bank balance to look anything like healthy again. In her job, that wasn’t a good thing—the bank manager with the humungous overdraft! Her wedding dress hadn’t fetched half what she’d paid for it, and the fancy hotel had refused to refund her a single penny for the canceled reception, despite the fact that they’d gotten months to find another couple to take their place. She wished now that she hadn’t been so keen to pay it all off early. Had she paid in monthly installments, she’d have saved over a thousand dollars on the cost of the venue, but she could never bear to be in debt. “Never a borrower or a lender be,” her dad had instilled into her from an early age, and she’d lived her whole life by the motto. Phil Cartwright had been the love of her life—and now he was the bane of it. “At least he didn’t jilt you at the altar,” Mum had said, sympathetically. Rihanna half-wished he had. At least then everyone would see for themselves what a cruel, heartless bastard he was. And she’d have gotten the chance to wear that gorgeous dress and show off her new figure. But the humiliation of him turning her down in front of everyone—or, worse still, not turning up—would have been insufferable. Almost as bad as having to return all the gifts and explain to everyone that the wedding was off. Of course, they’d all been sorry for her, which just compounded the situation. She hated pity about as much as she hated Phil Cartwright right now. That sorrowful expression of his haunted her dreams, as well as every waking moment. “I’m really sorry, but it’s just not going to work,” he’d told her softly. Oddly enough, he’d omitted to mention that it wasn’t going to work out with her because he already had someone else waiting on the sidelines—someone much richer and more sophisticated than Rihanna could ever hope to be. That much didn’t become apparent until way after he’d moved out and left her to deal with the fallout. Bastard. She’d spent weeks believing it was her own fault, that she hadn’t been good enough for him. She’d even begged him to give her another chance, for God’s sake! This promotion couldn’t have come at a better time. She’d moved all her belongings into storage, packed a bag and headed out into the middle of nowhere to begin a new life—not where she wanted to be, of course, but at least she was away from Phil Cartwright and all her sympathetic, well-meaning friends and family. She looked around the hotel room the company had put her up in. It was nice enough—clean, with high ceilings and dark wooden furniture. Not quite as good as she’d have had in New Moldington, but then, she was no longer in the city. Far from it…literally. This was Almondine in Cavern County. It had been described on the net as ‘a busy town with everything a person could need’. Yeah, right. She wouldn’t count on that. The new job was in a place called Pelican’s Heath, a few miles down the road. She’d been told it was more rural there and had been highlighted as ‘a small up-and-coming town with lots of potential’. Yet it didn’t even have a decent hotel for the bank to accommodate her in! Not that she’d want to stay too close to where she worked, anyway—not in her position. She was the boss and needed to be seen as such at all times, not be caught socializing with staff and customers during her downtime. Talking of her new position, she noticed the clock by the bed as she checked that her hair was neatly tucked into a bun. Only a quarter to seven? That couldn’t be right, surely? She went over to the coffee table where she’d left her cell charging. Half past eight? Shit! She was about to be late for her first day. What sort of impression would that give everyone? She threw her laptop into its case, grabbed her phone and handbag and charged out of the door. She’d complain to reception later about the damn clock.

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About the Author

Bella Settarra

Bella Settarra is a British Erotic Romance author and lives in the beautiful English countryside. She has several published novels to date, with subject matter including cowboys, BDSM and Myth/Fantasy. She has also written short stories for anthologies and has even had some raunchy poems published. She likes to keep busy, cramming as much into each day as she possibly can, while battling—and is determined to win—against breast cancer. She loves to hear from her readers, so please get in touch! You can read Bella’s Blog and follow her on Facebook and Twitter.


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Release Blitz

What’s It Gonna Take by Lacey Black

Title: What’s It Gonna Take
Series: Burgers and Brew Crüe #5
Author: Lacey Black
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: August 9, 2022



From the first moment I saw Reagan Turner at the bar and restaurant I help manage, I was drawn like never before. She was dating someone at the time, which meant she was off-limits, until the jerk broke up with her. I can’t get her out of my head, can’t stop wanting to kiss those perfectly lush lips. Fighting this attraction has been my kryptonite.

So, I give in to temptation.

Now, all bets are off. One touch, one kiss, one night will never be enough. Of course, I wasn’t factoring in us working together, which means I have to keep my desire—and my hands—to myself.

Should be easy enough.


There’s something about the charismatic, flirty bar manager that pulls me in. When my boyfriend breaks up with me via text message, I suddenly see Garreth Taylor in a whole new light. He’s gorgeous, fun, caring, and everything a single woman could ever want. And for some reason, he seems to have his sights set on me, even if he doesn’t say it outright.

So, I make the first move.

The result is both explosive and dynamic, and before I know it, one night turns to two. He has a hang-up, however, about being professional while at work, and draws a line in the sand.

Looks like I’ll have to show him how fun it can be to cross it.



Free in Kindle Unlimited


My blood is boiling.
What kind of douche canoe sends a text to break up with a woman, and then shows up at the same place said woman you just broke up with is eating dinner?
Justin fucking Morales, that’s who.
I want to punch him in his smug, dirtbag face, but I won’t because my employers frown upon it. Well, maybe not Jameson as much as the others, especially when he hears what happened to his wife’s cousin. He’d probably jump to the head of the line to knock out a few teeth.
I remember growing up with Jameson and Walker. They definitely weren’t afraid to get into parking lot scuffles. We didn’t hang in the same circles, but I never had any issues with them. I was just more focused on getting good grades, playing baseball, and getting into college.
Reagan approaches where I stand, eavesdropping on her confrontation and not ashamed in the least. Her eyes are cast down at first, and when they finally meet mine, I can see her embarrassment and anger swirling together like a tornado. Part of me wants to reach out and pull her against my chest, vowing to kick his ass for hurting her, but I know she won’t appreciate that right now.
Instead, I go to the one place I know will get a reaction out of her. “I’m so turned on right now,” I mutter, throwing her a wink and a smile.
And just like that, the shock and rage reflecting in her stunning eyes falls away and is replaced by laughter. “Oh my God,” she sputters through her giggle fit. “What is wrong with you?”
See? This right here. I’d rather see her happy and laughing instead of what that asshole made her feel like. When she smiles, there’s this light that surrounds her. It’s vibrant and makes me feel like I won a million dollars or something equally as badass.
“You wound me, love.” I place a hand over my heart and sigh dramatically.
Reagan rolls her eyes, much as I’d expect her to. “You’re nuts.”
I sober and step closer, greedily breathing in her sweet scent. “Do you want me to drop a drink in his lap? Or maybe step on his patty before I serve it? I’d do it in a heartbeat, for you,” I tell her, only half-joking.
Reagan gives me a sad smile, and Jesus, I don’t like it. “I do appreciate the offer, but I don’t think that’s necessary. Please don’t make any health code violations on my behalf,” she replies with the faintest grin on her pretty lips.
“If you change your mind, send me a signal, okay? Maybe blow me a kiss from across the room or twerk. Twerking’s always good.”
Her face completely relaxes as she laughs and shakes her head. “You’re terrible. I’m going to head back to my friends,” she says, reaching out and squeezing my arm. Little bolts of lightning streak through my veins and land firmly in my balls. It’s hard to just stand here and watch her walk away. “Oh, Garreth?”
Glancing up, I meet her gaze. “Yes?”
“Thank you. For making me smile.” She rewards me with another small smile.
My throat is tight with emotion. “Anytime.”
Reagan rejoins her party, immediately jumping into an animated telling of what happened over with Justin. As much as I’d love to go over there, I can’t. I have a job to do, which right now, is serving the ex. Even if I’d rather kick his ass out or just flat out refuse to serve him, that’s not my job, and I always strive to do the best job I can.


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USA Today Bestselling Author Lacey Black is a Midwestern girl with a passion for reading, writing, and shopping. She carries her e-reader with her everywhere she goes so she never misses an opportunity to read a few pages. Always looking for a happily ever after, Lacey is passionate about contemporary romance novels and enjoys it further when you mix in a little suspense. She resides in a small town in Illinois with her husband, two children, and three rowdy chickens.


Release Blitz

Black Forest by Pepper North & Paige Michaels

Black Forest by Pepper North and Paige Michaels is now live and #free to read with #kindleunlimited!


Welcome to Little Cakes, the bakery that plays Daddy matchmaker!

Cardio is good for the heart, but it isn’t the answer to finding love.

Rebounding from her husband’s affair and their subsequent divorce, Sue Taylor is on a mission to make herself irresistible to men. Convinced that exercise will fix whatever made her ex look elsewhere, she joins the gym near Little Cakes and commits to putting in the work.

When fate leads Davis Irving to coach Sue through her first workout at his gym, the silver fox is captivated by the cheerful woman in his charge. He knows his search for someone special to care for has ended. Sue doesn’t need crunches, just the special training of an experienced and devoted Daddy.

Little Cakes is a sweet and satisfying series, but dare to taste only if you like delicious Daddies, luscious Littles, and guaranteed happily-ever-afters.

#releaseblitz #releaseblast #releaseday #bookbirthday #booklaunch #newrelease #nowlive #blackforest #littlecakes #daddyromance #ddlg #ageplayromance #kinkyromance #romancenovels #romancebooks #kissingbooks #steamyreads #books #reading #bookish #bookbuzz #booksbooksbooks #booklovers #readers

About The Authors:

Ever just gone for it? That’s what USA Today Bestselling Author Pepper North did in 2017 when she posted a book for sale on Amazon without telling anyone. Thanks to her amazing fans, the support of the writing community, Mr. North, and a killer schedule, she has now written more than 70 books!

Enjoy contemporary, paranormal, dark, and erotic romances that are both sweet and steamy? Pepper will convert you into one of her loyal readers. What’s coming in the future? A Daddypalooza!

Stay up on the latest news and get insider updates and previews of Pepper’s stories…

Paige Michaels is an author of naughty romance books that are meant to make you squirm. She loves a happily ever after and spends the bulk of every day either reading erotic romance or writing it. Check out her website at

Connect With Pepper & Paige:

Release Blitz

The View from Olympus Mons

Title: The View From Olympus Mons

Author: Barry Creyton

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 08/09/2022

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 56500

Genre: Gay Fiction, LGBTQIA+, sex workers, bartender, scientist, men with children, performance arts, reunited, deep closet, coming out, HIV/Aids, tear-jerker

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Nate and Craig are inseparable high school friends in spite of their social differences—Nate from a wealthy family, Craig struggling to support his drug-addicted mother. The boys seal their friendship by burying a time capsule, a collection of childhood possessions representing their lives, swearing to unearth it thirty years hence. They look forward to the future with optimism, but when Nate declares his deep feelings for Craig, he’s rejected and circumstances part the two. Thirty years later, Craig is informed of Nate’s hospitalization in critical condition, the victim of a hate crime. In the twenty-four hours Craig spends at his boyhood friend’s bedside, events which have shaped their lives over three decades unfold—Craig’s journey from poverty to respect as a computer scientist, through twenty years of unhappy marriage, to the late discovery of his true sexuality, while Nate is disowned by his family and forced to support himself by prostitution. Though contact between them has been nil for thirty years, neither has been able to break the bond formed in their childhood—Craig unable to forgive himself for re-jecting his friend; Nate’s life and relationships ham-pered by his unending, unresolved love for Craig. Ultimately, Craig will drive a frenzied 900 miles to find release from the guilt that has shadowed his life—back to the tree house where it all began.


The View from Olympus Mons Barry Creyton © 2022 All Rights Reserved Denver, Colorado Craig was early. He parked the SUV and sat contemplating the house he’d once called home. July was warmer than usual, the sky clear, and twilight lent some enchantment to this row of houses on Cherry Street. All remained as determinedly cozy as they had been in the thirties when, in that sliver of affluence between the depression and the war, developers had smelled profit. The result was this stretch of sugar-candy houses that were snapped up by newlyweds, unaware that many of them would soon be separated by World War II. Craig always thought the Tudor facade of his former home was a monument to kitsch, but he’d bowed to Janet’s passion to live within its deceitful walls. Twenty years ago, he’d bowed to all of her demands. Light from the cross-paned living room windows fanned across the lawn, hinting at warmth within. But there’d been little warmth here—with one exception: Madeleine. Now a pretty, intelligent twenty-three, Maddy had organized this evening in hopes of—what? Certainly not a reconciliation. Ever the diplomat, the bridge-maker, Maddy wanted her parents to be friends. The ostensible excuse for the evening was the few possessions Craig had left behind two years ago when he’d abandoned this house and his marriage: a few old text books, some CDs of twentieth century French music, which he’d loved and Janet loathed, a stack of worn T-shirts, a pair of shabby jeans. Janet had dumped them into a waste bin in the garage when Craig left. Maddy packed them into neatly labeled boxes and used them as a ploy to get her father and mother to the same table. He glanced at his watch, then turned the rearview mirror to check his appearance. There was evidence lately of his forty-five years. A frown line and small creases at the edges of his mouth indicated a determination to which he’d come late in life. And a little silver had appeared at his temples. His secretary deemed the streaks “distinguished.” Craig saw only the decline of his youth, misguided rather than misspent. His unemotional assessment of the status quo was interrupted by the chortle of a mockingbird hoping to attract a mate. Benediximus bird. He took a bottle of red from the passenger seat, a Californian wine he knew Janet liked, and got out of the car. The path he walked was familiar, ringing the doorbell to request admission was not. From inside, he heard Maddy call “I’ll get it!” A moment later the door opened. Maddy beamed. “Hey, you,” she whispered as she pulled him into the hall and hugged him tightly. “Hey yourself, kiddo.” Craig nuzzled the top of her head with his chin. She took the wine without inspection and placed it on the hall console, then eased Craig out of his bomber and hung it up. “Looking good!” “For an old guy.” “You’re still movie star material and you know it.” She took his hand and led him into the living room. “Mom’s in the kitchen. Come on, I’ll make you a drink.” He slipped an envelope from his jacket and dropped it on the table by the wine bottle, then walked the short hall to the living room. He took in the newly covered sofa and chairs. “Been some changes.” Maddy looked around as if seeing the room for the first time. “I guess. I haven’t been back here for a couple of months.” “How’s the apartment going?” “Fine. Close to work. Noisy. But all mine.” Craig stood uneasily, reluctant to make himself too comfortable as Madeleine poured vodka into a shaker. “How’s Danny?” “He’s good. He’s on the final edit. It’ll be out in the fall.” “His first is way up on the bestseller list. He should be very pleased with himself.” Craig smiled. “He is, believe me.” “And you should be proud of him! Has he let you see the new one?” “He doesn’t want anyone to read a word until every last phrase is perfect.” “Another historical piece?” “Peloponnesian War.” “Wow. He tackles the big ones!” She handed a martini to Craig. “Sit! You look as if you’re waiting for a train!” Craig regarded the armchair, which had been exclusively his for so many years, and decided against it. He sat on the edge of the sofa, a stranger in the room he’d known so well for so long. He watched as Maddy sank gracefully into an armchair. She wore a gray business suit, befitting her position as a rising ad exec, softened with a silk blouse in pale blue. She was pretty. That was beyond question—she’d inherited his wavy, pitch-black hair, his deep-brown eyes, but her mother’s high cheekbones and full lips. He was so proud of her. This urbane, attractive woman was the finest thing his marriage had produced. The only really happy thing. He sipped the martini, relaxing a little into the warmth it offered the pit in his gut. Janet appeared in the doorway. “Dinner in ten.” No greeting, no smile. “I brought some wine. It’s on the…” But Janet was gone. Maddy smiled a sympathetic smile. Craig acknowledged this with a patient shrug. He took another look around the room and familiarity began to morph into claustrophobia. Maddy reached for his glass. “Let me top that up.” Craig shook his head. “I’ll have wine with dinner. So. Are you running the agency yet?” “I’m working on it,” she said lightly. “And how’s what’s his name?” “Connor.” “Has he proposed?” “I’m working on it,” she repeated in exactly the same tone. Then she chuckled. “If it goes anywhere, you’ll be the first to know.” Craig reached over and took her hand. “Don’t waste time, kiddo. We only get so much of it.” Maddy was about to reply when Janet called them to dinner. The predominant sound at the dining table was the clink of flatware on china. Maddy’s best intentions were being eroded by her mother’s grim silence. She started inconsequential topics—the new furniture covers, a group of Janet’s watercolors over the fireplace. Craig offered praise for the meal which he knew Janet had not exactly slaved over. Each foray into bonhomie drew a monosyllabic response from Janet. But then, dinner conversation was something this table had barely known during the final years of the marriage. “I left the check on the hall table,” Craig said, breaking a longueur. “You could’ve mailed it,” Janet allowed without looking at him. “I thought, since I was coming by…” Craig noted now that she seemed older than he remembered. Over the last couple of years, the pretty girl he’d met in twelfth grade had been completely absorbed into this rigid, unsmiling woman. She wore black jeans and a gray denim shirt, colors that compounded the aspect of severity, colors—or rather, noncolors—she would never have worn ten years ago. Her once luxuriant auburn hair was pulled back tight in a pony tail. There was no cynicism in Craig, but he surmised that her grim appearance was calculated. Remembering her talent for manipulation, he wouldn’t have been surprised if this was a tactic to exacerbate the guilt he already felt at the way their marriage had turned out. Maddy kept the flow of conversation moving as brightly as possible to counter Janet’s silence. “So, what are you working on now?” “We’re trying to increase the accuracy and performance of semantic parsing.” “Once more for the layman.” Craig smiled for the first time since they’d sat at the table. This was his field, his passion. “Okay, let’s see. You talk to your phone, your computer, your TV, Alexa, Siri. They talk back, answer questions. But, in spite of the label ‘Artificial Intelligence,’ what you hear is a collection of recorded syllables, short phrases, reassembled by computer to respond to what is understood of your query. So, what I’m aiming for—well, my team—is a program that can create an actual voice, construct phrases all by itself, learning new words, new colloquialisms each time you interact. And I don’t mean the kind of speech generator Stephen Hawking used, I mean speech that’s indistinguishable from human speech. The program learns, without human intervention, improves its own efficiency, and eventually, will even simulate emotion. What we’re aiming for is literal artificial intelligence.” Maddy smiled and shook her head. “I hope I never have to ask Alexa to open the pod bay door.” Janet folded her napkin and pushed her chair back from the table. “Someday,” she said with a smile, “one of your machines might teach you how to simulate emotion.” Craig sounded no more than resigned. “This is uncomfortable. For all of us.” “It was your daughter’s idea to get us together, not mine.” Your daughter. Not our daughter. “Maybe I should go.” “Oh, finish your dinner! If this is what it takes to get the rest of your crap out of this house, eat.” She left the room, taking her wine glass with her. Maddy offered Craig a sheepish shrug and a whispered, “Shit.”


NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Barry Creyton has worked extensively in British and Australian theatre and television as actor, playwright and director. His plays are produced in more than twenty languages. Awards include the prestigious Kessell Award for his outstanding contributions to Australian theatre, the L.A. Ovation Award, and the Noel Coward International Writing Award. He resides in the United States. Visit Barry’s Website.


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