Tea and Antipathy (Damien Murphy Pet Sitting and Murder Investigations Book 1) by Meredith Spies


Book Title:  Tea and Antipathy (Damien Murphy Pet Sitting and Murder Investigations Book 1) 

Author and Publisher:  Meredith Spies 

Cover Artist: Samantha Santana/Amai Designs 

Release Date: June 31, 2023

Genre: Cozy mystery, MM romance that is cozy-specific 

Tropes: fish out of water, opposites attract, murder in a small town, quirk small town, amateur sleuth, pet sidekick

Themes: self-discovery, not all that glitters is gold, starting over, letting go of the past

Length:  72 000 words/246 pages

Heat Rating:  None – There’s a romance subplot but as it’s a cozy mystery, it is a slow build across the series with no on-page sex.

It’s the first book in the series. It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.


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Damien Murphy isn’t a detective, but he played one on T.V. once.


Not everyone could say their luck started improving the day they got hit by a car, but not everyone was me. Which was good because one me is all the town of Lester Cove can handle.

Ever since, murder’s been afoot and my new friend seems to be right in the thick of things. Mrs. Witte is a sweet older lady but she cannot keep herself from getting involved with the murder mystery, and her stepson Benjamin seems to think that’s somehow my fault.

Look, I’m just a washed up child star turned accidental pet sitter and sometimes plucky sidekick. I had nothing to do with the deaths that seem to be happening at an alarming rate, deaths Mrs. Witte wants me to help solve. Dealing with Ben’s antipathy is on my list, right below cleaning up after a dead woman’s dog.


Renee Rhodes was everything. She was the raspy voiced, designer dud wearing, theatrical queen I’d hoped she’d be in person.

It was like Liza Minnelli and Tyne Daly had somehow managed to have a baby then Tim Curry got involved somehow with Kander and Ebb doing the score and—

 I stepped into the theater lobby which was all done up for the reception with swags of silver and gold bunting and huge (fake) flower arrangements in glossy black Art Deco style vases. I barely had time to take it in before Renee Rhodes, in all her elegant glory, came sweeping down on me from behind the buffet table, calling out in her kitschy Mid-Atlantic tones, “I was so worried you’d changed your mind! You’re late!”

Swept into a swirl of vintage Halston jersey, a heavy-handed application of Fracas with a soupcon of Bombay Sapphire cutting through it all, I couldn’t answer for fear of asphyxiating on either a mouthful of fabric or the fumes.  She released me after a tight embrace and a waxy-lipped cheek kiss which I dutifully returned (sans waxy lips—my gloss was very light, thank you, and not at all sticky), she did that old person thing where they hold you at arm’s length and give you a look.

“I, ah, had car trouble outside of town. Something went kerflooey with the engine, I think. Or maybe the oil pan? I just know there was a lot of smoke.”

Ms. Rhodes tsked, looping her arm over my shoulder and giving me a tiny shake. “That’s why I went electric,” she pronounced. “It’s the only responsible way to get around these days, especially in a place like Lester Cove. No public transit, unless you count the ferry,” she added in a throaty stage whisper heard by pretty much everyone around us. “Now, come along, let me introduce you to the charming playwrights who’ve submitted their work for us to judge this weekend!” I had no choice but to follow her flowing jersey knit clad back towards the long refreshment table where she topped up her drink before gesturing towards the bottles in mute offer. I nodded, reaching for a wine glass before she stilled my hand and redirected it towards the stronger stuff.

“You’re gonna need it,” she muttered. “Have you read the packet of plays yet? It’s a lot.”

“I had the chance to look at some of the entries on the way here,” I said wincing at the sharp taste of the gin rickey she’d directed me towards. “They’re really engaging and—”

Ms. Rhodes snorted into her very full martini glass (the vermouth had been a mere whisper of an afterthought whisked away as soon as it entered her mind, apparently). “Most of them are amateurish, downright juvenile which isn’t surprising considering how Charlie treated the contest like some final exam for his students. The ones that aren’t high school efforts are so drab I wanted to scream, darling.” Something in my expression made her pause, offering me a small, not at all apologetic smile. “Forgive me. After years of being simply immersed in the craft, I find it’s hard to shake the inherent snobbery. I appreciate their enthusiasm, but they don’t understand theatre,” she said, this time keeping her voice low enough for just us two. The gala was more crowded than I’d anticipated for such a small town, the press of bodies dressed in everything from smart-casual wear to what looked like prom get-ups on some of the younger attendees forcing us to the side of the room, near a door discretely marked Box Office Management. “They crave it though. So many of them, especially the older generations, go all the way to the city for shows.”

“New York,” I murmured, not quite a question but laced with a bit of disbelief. New York was at least a half day’s drive from Lester Cove, quite a way to go for a play.

“Of course. I certainly don’t mean Bangor,” she tittered. “It’s a lovely city in its own right, but the theatre scene there is nothing like the city.” She exhaled gustily, pushing one of her brassy curls back from her eyes and glancing about, finding her angles before taking another sip of her gin, making sure she was displayed to her best advantage like a true professional. “Nothing is, really.”

“Renee!” A man giving young Kevin Kline vibes but when he was in In and Out, not A Fish Called Wanda, strode across the lobby towards us. Dressed in a wine-red three-piece suit, he stood out among the browns, navy and blacks peppering the crowd, though he didn’t seem bothered by the looks. In fact, he gave a few familiar nods and a quick smile or two on his way over before stopping short of Ms. Rhodes and folding his arms.  “It’s been three months! I’ve been patient but–”

“Charlie! You absolute doll!” She leaned in and gave him a smacking kiss on each cheek. Charlie blushed and, somewhat awkwardly, returned the gesture, not quite meeting her skin but giving a little mwah sound.

A for effort, really.

“Damien, this is my dear old friend, Charlie Arnold. Well, old,” she tittered. “He’s a few years my junior but shhhh, don’t let on. Everyone thinks I’m at least ten years younger than I really am!”

I nodded, smiling. No one thought that, I was certain, but cultivating a certain mystique was so old Hollywood of her. “I’ll never tell.”

Charlie Arnold shifted a bit uncomfortably, tilting his head in the direction of the office behind us. “Do you have a moment? We need to talk about—”

“Now, Charlie darling, now is not the time,” Ms. Rhodes protested, patting his arm with the very tips of her brightly painted fingernails. “We’re in the midst of a gala!”

Charlie followed the direction of Ms. Rhodes’ waving arm. His lips tightened and shoulders stiffened as he turned back to face us. “That might well be, Renee, but the fact remains you made a promise—a legally binding promise—and—”

Ms. Rhodes’ smile was fixed and bright but distinctly unpleasant. “Charlie,” she gritted out. “This is not the time. Save your speeches for your students.”

“Renee,” Charlie said, straightening, shedding some of the deference he’d carried over just moments before, “you’ve been dodging me. Every planning meeting, every casual drinks evening, you’ve been avoiding the subject. It’s past time you dropped the charade.”

“You’re embarrassing me,” she whispered. “We’ll talk tomorrow!”.

“I’ve given you forty-odd years of tomorrow, Charlie and later, Charlie,” he snapped,  “I’m tired of waiting, Renee. You owe me this much.”

“And,” she said, shooting me an apologetic eye roll, “we can talk tomorrow, Charlie. I assure you, you will not be disappointed.”

She gave his arm a firm pat then and, turning her back on him with a swish of jersey and perfume, took me by the elbow and steered me away from Charlie Arnold. “I’m so sorry about that little scene.” She sighed. “Charlie’s a dear old friend but he just can’t accept the fact some things are just done.”

“A lot of folks are upset about your retirement,” I demurred. “You’re quite the performer.”

She snorted delicately, giving me a nudge. “I’m an old broad who should’ve retired five years before I did,” she chided. “I just hung on because I wasn’t ready to admit my critics were right. I’d gotten to the point where I was just playing versions of myself, you know?”

My face warmed as I nodded. “I’m familiar with the feeling.”

About the Author 

Meredith Spies (they/them/theirs) is a queer, nonbinary author who lives far away and writes queer-centered stories with romance in them and queer romances with stories in them. They believe that pineapple goes on pizza, that there’s no reason for open toed boots, and everyone deserves a happily ever after.

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Dionysus in Wisconsin by E. H. Lupton


Book Title:  Dionysus in Wisconsin (Wisconsin Gothic, Book 1)

Author: E. H. Lupton

Publisher: Winnowing Fan Press

Cover Artist: E. H. Lupton

Release Date: May 26, 2023

Genres: Urban fantasy/historical M/M romance

Tropes: Living Aphrodisiac, Turning into a God, Offing the Offspring, In Love with the Mark, Occult Detective, Don’t Go in the Woods, Prophesies Rhyme, Killing the God, A+ Parenting, Metamorphoses

Themes: self-acceptance, overcoming family history, mystical library communion

Heat Rating: 3–3.5 flames 

Length: 78 000 words/ 350 pages in paperback

The story ends with a lovely HEA.

Book 2 is due in early 2024.


Buy Links

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Mythology, but make it everyone’s problem.


A graduate student and an archivist work together to fight a god.

Fall, 1969. Ulysses Lenkov should be working on his dissertation. Instead, he’s developing an unlucrative sideline in helping ghosts and hapless magic users. But when his clients start leaving town suddenly—or turning up dead—he starts to worry there’s something afoot that’s worse than an unavenged death or incipient insanity. His investigation begins with the last word on everyone’s lips before they vanish: the mysterious Dionysus.

Sam Sterling is an archivist who recently moved back to Madison to be closer to the family he’s not too sure he likes. But his peaceful days of teaching library students, creating finding aids, and community theater come to an end when the magnetic, mistrustful Ulysses turns up with a warning. There’s a god coming, and it looks like it’s coming for Sam.

Soon the two are helping each other through demon attacks, discovering the unsavory history of Sam’s family, and falling in love as they race to find a solution. But as the year draws to a close, they’ll face a deadly showdown as they try to save Sam—and the city itself.


“What did you want with it, anyway? There’s nothing of value in there. Just books. I would have let you look at any of them if you’d asked.”

Ulysses took a deliberate step closer, and Sam found himself retreating until he fetched up against the metal of the door. “Would you have, though? If I’d come to you and said I needed to investigate why the spirit of the stacks seems interested in you?” Ulysses took another step forward. They were standing far closer than people generally did, and it was both thrilling and terrifying. “Because a lot of people might find a request like that peculiar.”

Sam’s mouth went dry. They were practically chest to chest now. “I—Yes!” he said, and tried to pull himself up to his full height. “I don’t know what any of that means.”

Ulysses nodded. “Then this is going to be weird for you,” he muttered, voice rough and practically in Sam’s ear, and grabbed him. He opened the lock and pushed Sam through the door before he could protest.

On his desk were a white candle and a small, heart-shaped piece of blond wood that held a pencil in a vertical position. Beneath it was a sheet of typing paper, blank except for a cursive letter D in the center of the page. “What’s all this?”

“The inconclusive results of last night’s experiments,” Ulysses said. He grappled with the chair for a moment and then shoved it out into the corridor, shutting the cage’s door between it and them. There was just barely enough room for both of them standing up. This was going to be hideously embarrassing if anyone came along and caught them.

Ulysses, heedless, was lighting the candle with a Zippo. “The building seemed to have something to say to you in the elevator. Maybe it just needs more time to build up to a real psychic discharge, but we can’t wait that long.” He grinned again, eyes wide. “So I thought I’d bring it what it wants, and see if that helps.”

“You—what exactly do you do, Mr. Lenkov?”

“I’m a human lightning rod.” He reached up and grasped Sam very gently by the chin, turning his face to the candle. “Look. Be silent and breathe. Think about the flame.”

The other man’s taut body was pressed right up against Sam’s back, his left arm wrapped around Sam’s waist, and the candle flame was definitely not where Sam’s thoughts were heading. His face still tingled where he’d been touched. “Lenkov,” he said uneasily, “Ulysses. Are you okay? Are you—”

“No drugs, if that’s what you’re trying so delicately to ask. I never touch the stuff. Now hush.”

For some reason he wasn’t entirely clear on, Sam hushed. The man’s tone of voice seemed to demand compliance. At first all he could feel was the rush of blood through his veins, most of it headed southward. But after a while, his head started to clear. He could feel Ulysses breathing behind him and the movement of air through the study cages, smell the paper and Ulysses’s piney cologne and the slightly acrid candle. It wasn’t that his body stopped responding with arousal, but rather that for what felt like a few increasingly long moments he was conscious of all of it, and the linoleum beneath his feet, the rush of water through the pipes of the building. The loud clicks as the motion sensors turned the lights out, one row at a time. Still they stood in their tiny puddle of candle light.

Then, suddenly, the temperature dropped. Sam opened his eyes wide, afraid to say anything lest he break the spell, but also more generally terrified. He twisted slightly, but Ulysses’s grip was unforgiving. The other man leaned forward, murmuring something almost inaudible in a calming tone, and Sam gave up. Whatever was going to happen, he’d have a front-row seat for it. His breath hissed out, steaming.

Ulysses reached out and grabbed Sam’s right hand with his. “Using your left hand,” he whispered, “touch the planchette. Whenever you’re ready.”

Sam wanted to ask how he’d know when he was ready, but as their skin connected he felt a tension building in the room. It reminded him, abruptly, of the churning green clouds before a thunderstorm. The tension was in him, too, somehow, like anxiety but not quite, a nauseating squirming thing hiding there behind his breastbone. He closed his eyes and let it build for another minute, until it reached a level he couldn’t stand anymore.

He touched the planchette and felt it jerk to life as something ran through Ulysses and through him and somehow grounded itself in the paper. It was a little like the peculiar relief offered by a sneeze or an orgasm or taking off a pair of painful shoes, and a little like a static shock turned up to eleven. He might have shouted.

A moment later, Ulysses reached around him and pinched out the candle flame. Sam leaned dumbly against the wall, trying to catch his breath, and Ulysses turned on the overhead light, swung the door open, and carefully pushed Sam down into the chair.

“Sorry about that,” Ulysses said, sounding entirely unaffected. He picked up the page from beneath the planchette and frowned at it. Sam looked at the little stylus, which gave a desultory wriggle and was still.

About the Author

E.H. Lupton (she/they) lives in Madison, WI with her family. She is the author of the novella The Joy of Fishes (Battered Suitcase Press, 2013/2015). Her poems have been published in a number of journals, including Paranoid TreePoet Lore300 Days of Sun, and House of Zolo’s Journal of Speculative Literature. She is also one half of the duo behind the hit podcast Ask a Medievalist. In her free time, she enjoys running long distances and art.

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Love’s Not Welcome at the Hotel Cairo by Gary Alan Hidalgo


Book Title: Love’s Not Welcome at the Hotel Cairo

Author and Publisher: Gary Alan Hidalgo

Cover Artist: Ambhen Dacasin

Release Date: May 6, 2023

Genres: Gay Romantic Comedy, Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: May/December, Boss/Employee, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn

Themes: Coming of age, Welcoming love at any age, Finding home

Heat Rating:  2 flames

Length: 158 553 words/561 pages

It is a standalone book and does not end on a cliffhanger.


Buy Links

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You are cordially invited to the Hotel Cairo, where everyone’s love story is welcome.


Hughie must sell his hotel shares to save his dream. Fabian must persuade him to keep them for same sex weddings’ sake. You are cordially invited to the Hotel Cairo, where everyone’s love story is welcome…

The Hotel Cairo is an aging but still enchanting hotel that its majority shareholder recently axed 60-year-old soap actor Hughie Roman plans to sell to the highest bidder to get back his Hollywood dream. Not if Fabian Flores, the hotel’s 44-year-old manager, can stop him by winning him over with love. Love is Welcome at the Hotel Cairo, that is, an invitation to same-sex couples to wed in its magical setting in a conservative state which, in the past, denied them as petty as a wedding cake.

Unlike the lovers that the Hotel Cairo woos, Hughie and Fabian don’t welcome love because of secrets from the past and fears about the future. They’ll fight their developing feelings tooth and nail even while others try to get between them, like Fabian’s fiancee, the hotel lawyer, James, Hughie’s TV nephew, Herbie, and co-owner, Xenia, who has her own plans for her deceased ex-husband’s legacy. Fortunately, a heavenly male escort named Hunky Hector lends his voice of reason in their bedlam.

Are you looking for big, flawed LGBTQ+ characters with heart & wit in an unputdownable story with infinite humor & hope? Love’s Not Welcome at the Hotel Cairo is a romantic comedy novel about embracing love no matter how old you get or how jaded you become. Told through the eyes of a desperate, newly divorced Hughie and an equally determined but altruistic Fabian, not even a wedding cake will be safe from their explosive courtship.


 At the peak of the steep last length of the driveway, two men appeared to have been already waiting for his arrival. Behind them, the porters in their old-world maroon uniforms with their slick gold buttons and frilly trimmings gawked alongside their guests. Everyone took their time to stare, point, and snicker at their latest and most important arrival.

From where he caught his breath and scrutinized his surroundings, Hughie shook his fist and blasted XENIA1. Why had such a classy automobile behaved so crudely? It called the very attention Hughie preferred to avoid until he could sneak into a bathroom or, if worse came to worst, wait for the sprinklers to turn on so he could “freshen up,” as Rusty suggested. Oh well, at least the men welcoming him to the Hotel Cairo lost no time reaching him.

“Hello,” Hughie greeted, “which one of you is Fabia…” Before he could finish his friendly how-do-you-do, a well-dressed man with gray-green eyes immediately punched his face with wanton disregard. With that, he lost consciousness for at least a minute, in which he fantasized he cuddled an Oscar like a long-lost child.

“Whoever the man is, James, you should never have hit him. You’re the lawyer. You should know better.”

“What’s this drunken bum doing with expensive luggage like this? He must’ve stolen it from one of your guests.”

“Don’t call him that. It’s disparaging. He’s an unhoused person with an alcohol use disorder.”

“Haven’t you lived long enough in this state to call a spade a spade?”

As the Oscar tore itself away from his forlorn embrace, Hughie woke up to two men fighting over him while he lay crumpled on the blistering asphalt. He groaned in relief, then rubbed his left cheek. The thickness of his beard had protected his precious face from any superficial damage, but the shock of the ambush itself knocked him out cold.

“I’m… I’m…” He stammered.

“Thank God, you’re awake.” One of them kneeled down to check on him. It wasn’t the man that struck him. This man had beaming brown eyes that matched his carefully tapered chestnut hair. His face was cheerful even as he worried about Hughie. If he wasn’t already fully awake, Hughie would’ve mistaken him for an angel arriving to shield him from the nasty piece of work in the blue blazer who continued to disregard him. “I’m sorry, sir. The Hotel Cairo is private property and James just wanted you to go. But he should have asked and not laid a finger on you. Is your jaw okay? Do you want me to call an ambulance?”

Hughie turned his head to show off his chiseled jaw, all still in one piece. The nice man saw he was okay, sighed with relief, and caressed his cheek with tenderness.

“Fabian!” the mean man shrieked at the angel. He was so disgusted he almost spit. “You don’t know where he’s been.”

“Fabian Flores?” Hughie Roman finally regained his bearing. Hughie took notice that his good Samaritan wore a burgundy blazer similar to the hotel porters but without the gold trimming. Sewn on the right breast pocket were the initials “T-H-C” in classic gold embroidery. On the left, he wore a name tag that readily confirmed his identity.

“That’s me.”

“As I was trying to say before your security guard pummeled me without mercy, I’m Hughie Roman.” He stood up and offered his hand to the hotel manager. “We spoke last Monday. You invited me to the shareholders’ meeting.”

“I am not the security guard,” The one named James growled at him, “and you aren’t Mr. Roman. But this is probably his luggage.”

 He unzipped the leather duffel bag and dumped its contents on the ground before Hughie or Fabian could protest.

“James, please stop it,” Fabian said to his crazed co-worker. He turned to Hughie and asked, “Do you have any I.D. to prove you’re Hughie Roman?”

“Yes, I do.” Hughie reached for his wallet, but his back pocket was empty. “No, I don’t. I must’ve dropped it in the Uber.”

“You took an Uber here?” Fabian asked. He crouched on the ground and scooped up Hughie’s belongings, repacking the gaping bag James dumped on the ground beside the mess he made.

Hughie saw a familiar wine-colored legal-sized envelope sticking out among his unmentionables. He grabbed it and presented it to Fabian.

The hotel manager’s eyes dilated as he recognized the gold “T-H-C” seal that shared the same logo on the blazer he wore. “It’s our seal, and it’s sent courtesy of Carraway & Sons.”

About the Author 

Gary Alan Hidalgo writes LGBTQ+ stories always with much humor & heart ‘cause only LOVE & LAUGHTER can save the world.

He grew up in Southern California. Before becoming a full-time writer, he was employed in the entertainment field in Los Angeles.

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Book Title: Reflections on the Boulevard (Reflections of Michael Trilogy, Book 2)

Author: LJ Ambrosio

Publisher: Film Valor

Release Date: June 7, 2023

Genre: Fictional Buddy Adventure

Tropes: Buddy Adventure

Themes: Coming-of-age, growth

Heat Rating: 0 flames

Length: 51 000 words/ 200 pages

It’s the middle-book in the trilogy with some parts of life ending and others beginning for the third part.



Buy Links

Universal Link | Amazon US | Amazon UK


The continuation of A Reservoir Man

  Blurb Michael’s story continues from A Reservoir Man (2022) where we find him teaching at a university ready to retire. He unexpectedly meets a young man named Ron who becomes his protege and journeys in a haphazard adventure with him throughout America and Europe, each twist and turn of the road bringing unexpected adventures. The journey taken is one of joy, friendship and discovery.   Excerpt
“How long will the trip last? I thought I would be in Transcendental amazement by now.”
Michael was a little shocked. “Ron, we have only been driving for 2 hours.”
Michael explained to him that they would drive US 80 until they reached the borders of Nebraska and Wyoming, so he had to settle in. The corn fields were right down the road. Passing the corn fields, Ron observed how peaceful everything was. Michael suggested they pull over and park the car for a while.
While just sitting in the car, Ron saw two figures in the field, a man, and a woman. They suddenly disappeared among the corn and, from above, you could see the corn stalks shake violently. Ron chuckled.
“Oh God, looks like those people are doing it! It almost looks like he is doing it to the corn stalk!”
Michael tried to change the subject, “Look at those birds” he said, quickly. Ron was still caught up in his imagination. A few moments passed as Michael tried to rest his eyes and prepare for the next stretch of road. Suddenly he heard Ron crinkling a wrapper to a candy bar, which jarred him back to the moment. Michael sat listening to Ron crunch; he nearly threw it out the window.
“Can you not chew so loud, Ron?”
“Sorry. I love these things.”
A moment passed; the corn stalks were calm now.

About the Author

Louis J. Ambrosio ran one of the most nurturing bi-coastal talent agencies in Los Angeles and New York. He started his career as a theatrical producer, running two major regional theaters for eight seasons. He taught at over 7 universities in America. Ambrosio also distinguished himself as an award-winning film producer and novelist over the course of his impressive career.


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 Reflections on the Boulevard by LJ Ambrosio


Book Title: Reflections on the Boulevard (Reflections of Michael Trilogy, Book 2)

Author: LJ Ambrosio

Publisher: Film Valor

Cover Artist: hammxd  

Release Date: June 7, 2023

Genre: Fictional Buddy Adventure

Tropes: Buddy Adventure

Themes: Coming-of-age, growth

Heat Rating:  0 flames    

Length: 51 000 words/ 200 pages

It’s the middle-book in the trilogy with some parts of life ending and others beginning for the third part. 


Buy Links

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  

The continuation of A Reservoir Man


Michael’s story continues from A Reservoir Man (2022) where we find him teaching at a university ready to retire. He unexpectedly meets a young man named Ron who becomes his protege and journeys in a haphazard adventure with him throughout America and Europe, each twist and turn of the road bringing unexpected adventures. The journey taken is one of joy, friendship and discovery.


They begin to move closer to Ron, a street light illuminating one of them for a moment; everything else was in darkness. He realized these were some of the kids from the shelter he used to be in. They had a fire in them, maybe it was jealousy that he got out and got on his feet. How did they know that much about Michael? He knew that they could hurt Michael, at his age that could kill him. They could hurt Carol, badly. They might have a knife. He knew how much danger they were in now.

Ron made a move towards the one he recognized, when suddenly all five pounced on Ron, beating on him, taking no break in their punches. One of them picked up Rhonda and threw her against a brick wall. Ron spit blood and, in between blows, tried to move to protect Rhonda. Carol ran to grab Rhonda. She tried to pick her up and saw she was hurt. Ron looked at the young men, spit blood at the closest of them, and screamed, “Fuck you! I hope you all die for what you did to her! Fuck you!”

The noise of this was so loud, a group of people leaving a bar saw the commotion. One of them yelled “Hey! What’s going on there? Hey!” Another woman was dialing for help on her phone. The young men ran away as quickly as possible, disappearing down a dark side street and into the blackness of the night.

They were nearing the back door of the house, Carol carrying Rhonda, with Ron limping on his own. As they approached the door, two of the young men were behind them again, taunting them. He asked Ron if he could meet his boyfriend. Ron lunged at one of them and  fell to the ground. They began to kick him. Carol screamed for help.

About the Author 

Louis J. Ambrosio ran one of the most nurturing bi-coastal talent agencies in Los Angeles and New York. He started his career as a theatrical producer, running two major regional theaters for eight seasons. He taught at over 7 universities in America. Ambrosio also distinguished himself as an award-winning film producer and novelist over the course of his impressive career.

Author Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |   Instagram  |  Tumblr


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Book Blast: Nicoli by Bella J.

👑 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐢: 𝐀 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 (𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝟏) by Bella J. is available now!

Start reading today #KU ➜
𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊I’ve never had a life.I’m not talking about the freedom money can buy because I have that in spades.I’m talking about the freedom a girl gets from growing up with four overprotective Del Rossa men…which is zero.
Zero freedom to have a social life. Zero freedom to date.No guy dares to glance my way. I’m Dark Sovereign property in this town, and everyone knows you don’t touch what belongs to the Del Rossas.
Fifteen years ago, I was a lost little orphan. The Del Rossa family took me in, cared and raised me like I was their own. But not him.
Not Nicoli.
He’s always treated me differently. Like I don’t belong in their world. Like I’m this temporary thing they shouldn’t get attached to.
Maybe I should be thankful that he ignores me most of the time.But for some stupid reason…I’m not.
Whenever he looks my way, I can’t seem to breathe right.When he’s close, I’m a mess on two feet.
But Nicoli has made it crystal clear that the girl he grew up with is a hard limit for him. I’m the one woman he’ll never touch…
…not even if I beg him to.
👑 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍 – 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝟐𝟗 ⬇His Queen (Dark Sovereign Underboss Book 2) ➜
#nicolibellajbookblast #nicoli #bookblast #darksovereignunderbossseries #bellajnovels #mustread #kuromance #newrelease #nowlive #kindleunlimited #mafiaworld #darkromance #sexy #addictive #mustread #tbr #enticingjourney
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Book Blast – Resist by Michelle Fernandez

 ✩✩✩ Now in KU ✩✩✩

Resist is now available to read on Kindle Unlimited. The Broken and Beautiful Series Book 1 by Michelle Fernandez is a #bodyguard #sportsromance #securityromance


Genre | Tropes: Contemporary Romance | Sports Romance | Bodyguard romance | Security | Middleweight Champion | Fake girlfriend.






Read on Kindle Unlimited



The last person I ever expected as my assignment is Dean Kraygen. Middleweight Champion of the World and Sexiest Man Alive.He thinks I was hired to be his fake girlfriend. What Dean doesn’t know is I’m to gather intel and protect him from someone who has been making threats to distract him from winning his last fight.Sure, any woman would kill to be in my shoes. But I don’t like him. I loathe his kind and his world all because of my past.But he got to me. Little by little, the walls I built start to crumble.What was supposed to be a facade, has become all too real, and I have no choice but to resist him, at all costs, or I will be destroyed for good.Resist is the first book in The Broken & Beautiful Series and an extension of The Broken Hero Series. Resist is also a crossover from Till I Found You and Distracted and features the hero and heroines you’ve gotten to know and love…


#resist #thebrokenandbeautifulseries #sportsromance #security #fakegirlfriend #bodyguardromance #middleweightchampion #romance #bookish #dsbookpromotions #michellefernandez@Michelle Fernandez @DS Book Promotions


Book Blast: Alexius by Bella J.

Title: Alexius
Series: Dark Sovereign Series
Author: Bella J.
Genre: Dark Romance/Mafia Romance

5 Star TDC Book Reviews – “This was a highly entertaining and addicting story that kept me on the edge of my seat throughout.”
5 Star caffe.and.books – “Intense, wicked and suspenseful goodness, I couldn’t read it fast enough yet I didn’t want it to end.”
5 Star Goodreads Review – “I LOVE Mafia Romance and this author has a way of spinning a story that makes you feel as if you’re a part of the story as you read it.”

I’ve never met him. Never even seen him.
But I’ve heard the whispers. The rumors. The stories about him being as cruel as his father. Maybe even worse.
They say his presence wraps around your throat whenever he enters a room. And that’s exactly what I feel the moment he walks into the diner where I work, and I hear people breathe out his name.
Alexius Del Rossa.
They call him the crown prince of the Dark Sovereign—a society of men who own everything but the weather in this town.
Men say he has ice in his veins, and women talk about the corrupted heart in his chest. He’s the kind of man you pray never to cross paths with. The kind of man a girl like me has no chance of surviving.
But while his eyes trap mine, and his magnetism touches my skin, I’m unable to move when he forces me into a corner and hands me an envelope.
It’s an offer.
One I can’t refuse.
See, I have nothing. No family. No friends. No home.
I can disappear and no one will know.
And that is exactly why he chose me.

Nicoli is releasing March 14, 2023


Chasing Hope by Gwen Martin


Book Title:  Chasing Hope

Author and Publisher: Gwen Martin

Cover Artist: Cate Ashwood Designs 

Release Date: February 19, 2021 

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Hurt/Comfort; Out for you; Small Town Romance; Bisexual Romance 

Themes: Grief/loss; second chance at love 

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 68 000 words/ 286 pages

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Add on Goodreads

Only 99c from February 20 – 27

Also Available on Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |   Amazon UK 

Loss chased him away. Hope brought him love…But is that enough?


Sean is only twenty-seven, but he’s already lost everything that gave him life. On the verge of losing hope for a future, he moves to a town where no one knows about him, the death of his child, or his failed marriage; but when his nightmares and his guilt follow him without the pitying glares, he realizes he can’t move forward on his own.

Jonah has worked tirelessly to keep his father’s memory alive and be a fixture in the small town he grew up in. Now, nearing forty, his dreams have been long forgotten to keep everyone else’s alive, and he doesn’t know how to reclaim his life as his own without losing his last connection to his father.

But when the two men’s lives collide, they’re forced to confront their grief and accept that there can be life and hope after loss—if you’re willing to chase it.

Chasing Hope is a 68k small-town, second chance at love, M/M Romance. There are subject matters in this book that may act as triggers for some. Readers are invited to check out the complete trigger warning on the copyright page, which can be viewed by clicking on the “Look Inside” preview or by downloading the sample. These triggers contain spoilers for the book.


“Well, don’t ever do what I did and sleep with your best friend’s brother.” Jonah rubbed the back of his neck, color tinting his cheeks. “I said that wrong. There’s no ill will or anything. It didn’t last long.”

When Sean spoke, his voice came out hoarse and shaky. “I’m sorry.” 

Jonah waved his hand. “Eh, it’s not a big deal. It was a long time ago, and we’re still super close. Candice worries I’ll never date again but dating at 37 is far harder than when you’re in your twenties.”

Sean laughed. “Oh really? Because I’m 27 and I can say that having been married and divorced by the time I was 26 isn’t exactly great dinner date conversation.”  

Jonah shifted in his seat, resting his arm along the back of the couch. His hand grazed over Sean’s shoulder, his eyes watching the pattern they traced. “Well, that’s a shame on their part. They’re definitely missing out.” 

Sean’s entire body was vibrating, and the muscles in his legs quaking. He didn’t know what he was doing, he didn’t know if he could confess the truth of his sexuality again. Sean had already tried twice, and both times had failed miserably.

Sean had once gone bungee jumping with Parker over the Colossus Bridge in Italy. He didn’t know what he was doing, but the massive expanse of green was so vivid it looked like a photograph. The man who had geared him up spoke broken English and said with a thick Italian accent, “You fly. Be free. Nowhere else but here.”

Sean wanted to take that leap again. Wanted to be free. Wanted to fly.

He leaned over and kissed Jonah.

It wasn’t the best kiss. If anything, judging by Sean’s history of kissing, it was embarrassingly awful. He was a little off center from Jonah’s mouth, and Sean’s lips slid over to the corner. At the same time, he lingered a second too long, and Jonah gasped in surprise, causing Sean’s tongue to slide under Jonah’s bottom lip.

He pulled back, his face burning. Jonah’s hand lifted to his lips, eyes round with shock. Sean couldn’t control his breathing, his hands balling into fists. He licked his lips again, eager to taste Jonah on his tongue. Jonah’s eyes trailed down to Sean’s mouth and stayed there for a protracted beat.

“Um,” Jonah said, his lips pursing out a bit. “That—”

“I’m not straight,” Sean said, blurting the words a bit louder than intended. The rest tumbled out, glued together, sticky and rushed. “I tried to tell you before, but I messed up and I couldn’t—I couldn’t—I mean, I didn’t want to—”

Jonah pressed a finger to Sean’s lips, silencing him. His eyes appeared bluer in the dimming late afternoon, his hair framing his sharp jawline. Sean’s breath came out in ragged huffs as Jonah traced his fingertips along Sean’s chin, over his jaw, and around his temple. He combed those same fingers through Sean’s hair, and Sean couldn’t help but let his eyes flutter shut, lean into the touch.

“When I dated Lee, we didn’t tell anyone because I was worried about Candice finding out about her brother and best friend hooking up,” Jonah said, his voice quiet but even. 

Sean tried to listen, tried to pay attention, but it was hard with Jonah’s dull nails scraping along his scalp. He shivered, biting the inside of his cheek hard. 

Jonah drew closer, his other hand resting on Sean’s hip. “In the end we realized it wasn’t meant to be. We decided we were better off as friends, and a few months later he started dating the man who is now his husband. They’re better together than we ever would’ve been.”

Jonah’s breath ghosted over Sean’s mouth as he whispered, “There’s been no one since.”

Sean breathed hard through his nose when Jonah’s hand cupped around the back of his neck. “No one?”

“Well, there is someone,” Jonah murmured, low and rumbly.

“Ye-yeah?” Sean whispered. His eyes remained closed, too scared to open them and see how Jonah’s eyes looked. He imagined they were full of heat and as captivating as a clear summer sky. Breathing became difficult, and his heartbeat ramped up to a gallop.

“Yeah,” Jonah said, his voice breathy. “I really want to kiss you. Is that okay?” Jonah whispered. 

The huskiness of his voice swirled around Sean like a sharp wind, overwhelming and shocking. He gripped Jonah’s t-shirt and pulled him closer. 

“Yes,” Sean said. He wanted to sound confident and sure, but instead his voice came out raw and desperate. The next word slipped between his lips on its own accord. “Please.”

About the Author 

Gwen Martin grew up in Florida where the sun was always shining, the humidity was high, and Disney was just a hop skip away. She currently lives in Knoxville, Tennessee to experience seasons and be closer to the mountains. When she’s not trying to write one of her million story ideas, she’s usually hanging out with her husband and four cats. 

Gwen first started writing at a young age, coming up with stories in class instead of paying attention to the math lesson. Since then she has been exploring her love of writing in various fan communities where she has learned how to cultivate character development and romantic interactions. 

She has a strong love affair with cold brew coffee, black cats, and nerding out in various fandoms. When she’s not writing, she’s reading everything she can get her hands on, listening to a lot of lo-fi and making playlists, chilling with her four gatos and obsessing about Pusheen. Because it’s always about Pusheen.

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