Meant For Me

Highly trained agent Mira Araceli can hold her own in the toughest situations, but not against her secret crush, Torin Carter. She’d fallen for her Hawkeye instructor years before. With his dark Irish good looks, unshakable integrity, and haunted blue eyes, he was everything she fantasized about. Unfortunately he never even glanced at her twice.

Torin’s intense hunger for the new recruit shocked him. But as his student, the fierce and beautiful Mira was off-limits. And she was far too young and innocent for his carnal demands.

Now, when Hawkeye pairs them together for an undercover assignment, she discovers the dangerous side he was hiding. Is she strong enough to fight for their second chance? Or will the beautiful storm that is Torin Carter destroy her completely?

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About Sierra Cartwright

USA Today Best-Selling Author, Winner of the 2015 Best BDSM Book of the year (Bind), 2015 Reader’s Choice Best Erotic Romance (Bind), 2015 Golden Flogger (Crave), 2014 LASR Book of the Year award (In The Den), 2013 Best BDSM Book of the Year award (Over The Line), Golden Flogger Award 2015 nominee for her books Command, Bind, and Brand, Sierra was born in Manchester, England where she spent her early years traipsing through castles. After living in Denver for a number of years, the internationally acclaimed author now resides in Galveston, Texas. She loves the way history blends with Southern manners (being called “sugar” is an experience unto itself).

She invites you to join her on a sensual journey where the limits are explored and expanded.

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Parrish

 

.•´✶PARRISH¸.•´✶

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.•´✶GIVEAWAY¸.•´✶

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.•´✶COVER CREDITS¸.•´✶

Cover Designer: Jennifer Bosco Cover Design

Models:  Fred DiBella and Tiffany Marie

Photographer: Wander Aguiar Photography

#propertyofparrishforever #jackandreina #brandedbythebulldog

.•´✶Blurb.•´✶

It’s not a wicked world that drives a man to sin, it’s a deranged mind. Baptized in dirty water by Satan himself, I’ve spent my whole life fighting the good fight, searching for the light in the darkness of insanity. Now, the light I’ve basked in for so long is finally dimming and the time has come for me to take my final bow before the curtain closes on my sanity.

After making a deal with the district attorney and providing my club with full immunity for the crimes we’ve committed, I have twenty-four hours to remind my wife, Reina, why she fell in love with a bastard like me before I turn myself in and break her heart.

But twenty-four hours isn’t enough.
Not for me and certainly not for the Devil.

Tragedy strikes, and my world implodes. It’s lights out for Jack and Reina and a man can’t survive without his sunshine. Engulfed in darkness, consumed by the crazy, I’m a weapon of mass destruction, ready to wreak havoc on the wicked world.
Word to the wise—proceed with caution, motherf*ckers.
The Bulldog is back!

.•´✶Excerpt•´✶

© Copyright 2018 All Rights Reserved by Janine Infante Bosco.

“I didn’t realize you would be joining us today, Mrs. Parrish,” the district attorney, Matt Ritzer, says, tearing his eyes away from me to glance thoughtfully at my wife. Turning my head, I watch Reina lift her head and stare at the man looking to lock me up and throw away the key. Without responding, she tucks a golden strand of hair behind her ear and for a split second I forget we’re in a room full of attorneys and federal agents. I forget we’re teetering on the edge of a sentence and imagine fisting those locks as I bend her over the table and fuck her raw.
Raw and hard.
Wild and reckless.
Like a ruthless savage, branding her over and over so that long after those iron bars close in on me, Sunshine feels me between her legs.
“I go wherever he goes,” she says calmly, forcing me back to reality. Without looking at me, she reaches for my hand and laces our fingers together. “Until you take him away from me and I no longer can.”
To the room full of suits, her voice is strong—her words cunning but I hear the despair laced with every syllable and I feel her hand slightly tremble against mine. It forces my gaze downward. Dripping in faded ink and silver rings, my fingers intertwine with hers. Pale, dainty and perfectly manicured—that’s my Sunshine.
The beacon of light in my dark and cruel world.
Lifting my head, the voices around us fade and I just stare at her profile, cementing her delicate features to my failing mind. I remember the first time I saw her face, the first time she acknowledged my existence. Her dull eyes called to me, beckoning me to dig deeper and discover the heart and soul of their owner.
Her soul was broken, that I knew but, her heart—I never expected it to be as generous as it’s been and I sure as fuck never thought I’d be the bastard she gave it to. She saved me the trouble of stealing it because come hell or high water I would’ve taken it, anyway.
I’m selfish like that.
Always taking what I don’t deserve.
Dirtyin’ up the clean.
Tainting the pure.
Corrupting the innocent.
Playing God with everyone who comes into my life. Reina never stood a chance with me as her acting messiah but, fuck if I don’t love her. For every bit of wrong I’ve done in my life, I must’ve done something right for her to stick with me.
You can say it’s because she loves me but, I’m no fool and I’ve lived enough life to know love isn’t always enough. Another woman would’ve run for the fucking hills. Another woman would’ve committed my mentally deranged ass. And another woman wouldn’t be sitting next to me holding my hand as I break her heart and destroy our lives all for the sake of brotherhood.
It’s more than love.
It’s salvation.
It’s knowing you were born to complete the other half of someone. It’s finding the remedy to heal your fractured soul, to piece together the broken parts and make them whole.
“There’s always visitation,” my lawyer whispers to her. That’s when she breaks her stare with the district attorney and turns her eyes to me. I watch them fill with tears and I lean into her, lifting my free hand to her face. I pull her closer, touch her forehead to mine and give her what she needs to hear.
“You,” I murmur, taking us back to the beginning.
Back to basics when two words defined a lifetime.
After a beat, she nods slightly and returns the gift, giving me what I need to serve my impending sentence.
“Me,” she assures.
Always her.
Clearing his throat, Ritzer commands my attention. Releasing a growl, I pull back and slice my gaze to the man sitting across from me.
“We’ve gone over the deal legal counsel has proposed and are willing to negotiate the terms,” he says, sliding a stack of papers across the mahogany table. Before I can lift a finger, my lawyer reaches over and takes the proposal.
Still holding Reina’s hand, I lean back in my chair and watch intently as my five hundred dollar an hour lawyer skims the deal.
“I thought he said it was solid?” Reina whispers.
Squeezing her hand, I don’t respond. Instead, I clench my jaw and wait for someone to tell us what’s going on. The room goes silent as my lawyer continues to flip through the pages and then it happens…
The voice of my maker calls in the distance.
You’re fucked Parrish.
“Fifteen years?” Reina shrieks, releasing my hand. Her outburst drags me away from my mind and the two words that we weren’t expecting to hear.  “No one said anything about fifteen years,” she cries, turning her attention to me.
Not willing to see the heartache reflected in her eyes, I cowardly keep my attention focused on my attorney, hoping he pulls a rabbit out of his hat or creates a miracle of some kind. Jeffrey Holden has gotten rich over the last two decades but he’s also kept my ass out of prison.
Every dog has its day, Bulldog.
Closing my eyes for a moment, I struggle to fight the voice inside my head. That vile bitch who loves to drag me down to hell any chance she gets.
“Jack,” Reina croaks next to me, demanding answers. Blinking, I slice my eyes back to hers, watching as she angrily wipes at the tears falling down her cheeks. I know the thoughts running through her head because they’re exactly the same as mine.
Like me, she’s calculating the age our son will be when I’m released and already mourning the years I’ll miss of his life. My chest starts to ache as I picture the boy I’m leaving behind and the grown man he’ll be in fifteen years. I’m losing out on all the moments I never got to share with his brother who was taken from the world too soon.
Then, there’s also the promise to teach him all the things in life a boy needs to learn in order to become a man that going away will force me to break.

Reina’s also thinking about my daughter Lacey, wondering if her mind will withstand this latest blow to our family and acknowledging the fact that the baby, she’s carrying won’t know its grandpa. Again, I close my eyes and allow myself a moment to recall walking my daughter down the aisle, kissing her cheek and giving her hand to the man I trusted most in the world. My throat constricts with emotion just as it did on her wedding day and one cherished memory bleeds into another, taking me back to yesterday when she shared her sonogram photo with me.
I finally let myself look at Reina—really look at her. I memorize her features and pray to whatever god will listen that while I’m alone, rotting in my cell my mind will allow me to remember all the many expressions her beautiful face has gifted me over the years. May I always recall the sound of her laugh and the sweet fucking sounds she makes when she comes undone.
You’re going to lose her, Parrish.
She’ll never wait.
“Ten years,” my lawyer counters. “Or we go to trial and leave it up to a jury to decide.”
“That’s fine with me,” t Ritzer fires back. “We take it to court and your client can wind up doing anywhere between fifteen to life.”
“Jack,” Reina whispers, reaching for my face. “Are you with me?” she questions, searching my eyes for a sign that I haven’t drifted over to the darkness.
“I’m with you,” I rasp, wrapping my hands around her wrists.
“Your client is being charged with murder in the first degree. Now, we’re being generous here. The deal is fifteen years and full immunity for the club.”
Prying Reina’s hands off me, I glare at the suits sitting across from me.
“Do I need to remind you of my client’s medical condition?”
When in doubt, pull the crazy card.
“Twelve years, full immunity for the club and his private doctors are allowed to treat him inside,” Holden continues.
Mulling it over, the Ritzer leans back in his chair, quietly conferring with the two assholes sitting on either side of him. Knowing these men hold my fate in their hands is enough to get my blood boiling and the wheels turning inside my deranged head. I envision inflicting pain on them and tearing their world apart. I want their wives to cry at night and their kids to wonder when and if they’ll ever see their fathers again.
Once a fucking sinner, always a sinner.
“Thirteen years and full immunity for the club. As far as his medical treatment goes that will be up to the warden to decide. However, I assure you, Mr. Parrish will be treated for his condition.”
Thirteen years is better than fifteen and I turn my gaze toward my lawyer, waiting for him to agree or disagree. He looks at me then Reina and back to me, giving me a slight nod.
“Take the deal,” he says.
Thirteen fucking years.
One hundred and fifty-six months.
Four thousand, seven hundred and forty-five days.
Turning once more to my wife, I brush her hair away from her eyes and watch as she lifts her tear stained face.
This woman. This beautiful woman I never deserved, saved me. Day after day, night after night, she provided me with a steady place I could let go of my defenses. When the darkness consumed me, she brought the sunshine. Part of me wonders if she regrets it. If she looks at me and sees all the consequences loving me has brought to her life. After all, doesn’t every good woman eventually tire of giving their love to someone who does nothing but chip away at their spirit. It’s only a matter of time before my good woman realizes she was drowning trying to save a man who only kept pushing her head under the water with every bad decision he made.
“We’ll make it work,” she assures.

.•´✶ABOUT AUTHOR JANINE INFANTE BOSCO¸.•´✶

Janine Infante Bosco lives in New York City, she has always loved reading and writing. When she was thirteen, she began to write her own stories and her passion for writing took off as the years went on. At eighteen, she even wrote a full screenplay with dreams of one day becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild.

Janine writes emotionally charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong-willed female characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women they love. She loves to interact with fans and fellow avid romance readers like herself.

She is proud of her success as an author and the friendships she’s made in the book community but her greatest accomplishment to date would be her two sons Joseph and Paul.

 

 

¸.•´✶CONNECT WITH JANINE¸.•´✶

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The Stars May Rise and Fall

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Book Title: The Stars May Rise and Fall

An M/M retelling of Phantom of the Opera set in turn-of-the-millennium Japan

Author: Estella Mirai

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: MiblArt

Genre/s: M/M romance, contemporary

Heat Rating: 2 flames

Length: 90 000 words/320 pages

It is a standalone story.

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Blurb

Teru came to Tokyo with dreams of making it big in the glam-metal visual kei scene, but three years later, all he has to show for it is a head of hot pink hair and some skill with an eyeliner pencil. He may look the part, but he doesn’t sound it, and constant bickering among his bandmates has him worried about his future. When he finds a mysterious business card in his bag, he’s willing to take any help he can get.

Help comes in the form of Rei, a crippled, disfigured composer whose own career was ended by an accident before it had really begun. With Teru’s voice and looks, and Rei’s money and songwriting skills, both of their dreams seem about to come true – but a forbidden kiss and a late-night confession threaten to tear it all apart. Now Teru, who has spent most of his life denying his attraction to men, and Rei, who vowed long ago never to love again, must reconcile their feelings with their careers – and with their carefully constructed ideas of themselves.



THE STARS MAY RISE AND FALL is an M/M retelling of Phantom of the Opera, set in Tokyo at the turn of the millennium. It comes with a healthy dose of angst and a dollop of nostalgia, as well as an age-difference romance, a physically disabled love interest, and memorable characters who will stay with you long after the pages are closed.

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Excerpt

I can help you. Call me.

Teru ran his finger around the edge of the card. Maybe it had been a mistake. Should he call, and let whoever had left it know?

He opened the window and lit a cigarette. The smoke floated out into the muggy Tokyo night.

“This is stupid,” he said aloud. “It’s one in the morning. Whoever it is, they’re asleep.”

But Teru wasn’t asleep. His bandmates probably weren’t asleep either. If it was a musician who had left the card, one in the morning was better than one in the afternoon.

I can help you. Call me.

He picked up his phone and dialed.

It rang once, twice—and Teru cut the connection. This is stupid. But he didn’t feel stupid. He felt guilty, like he’d been doing something he shouldn’t.

He stubbed out the cigarette and walked across the room to the refrigerator. Nothing but a pack of noodles and a flat Diet Coke. Even though he’d already had a couple with the guys after the show, what Teru really needed was a beer.

On the other side of the room, the phone rang.

The floor was littered with clothes and magazines and Playstation controllers. Teru almost tripped as he lunged for the phone, and then only crouched there, watching it, with his nerves wrapped around his voice box like a snake. There was no name with the number, but Teru knew it by heart. He’d only been staring at it for the past hour.

The ringing stopped. An engine rumbled outside Teru’s window, and a train clattered over distant tracks. Upstairs, slippered feet padded across a tatami floor. The air was thick with an anticipation far from silence—but just as easily shattered by the trill of a different ring.

Teru’s fingers fumbled to open the text.

I heard you sing.

He stared, waiting for the words to sink in. They didn’t, though. They made no sense.

It had only been a mistake after all.

You’ve got the wrong number, he replied. This is Teru, the drummer for La Rose Verboten. I don’t sing.

And then: You should.

The phone rang again.

“Hello?”

“You have a beautiful voice.”

It wasn’t Yasu. It wasn’t anyone he knew.

“Hello?” Teru repeated. “Who is this?”

“A friend.” The voice was male, deep and effortlessly sensual in a way that Seika would have envied. It made Teru distinctly uncomfortable.

“Look,” Teru said. “I think you want Bara. I’m not the singer. I’m the drummer. The one with pink hair?”

“I heard you,” the man pressed. “In the dressing room. I can help you.”

In the dressing room? There’d been no one else in there.

“Is this some kind of joke?”

“Not at all.”

“What do you want?” Teru whispered.

“To teach you. To help you. Will you meet with me?”

Teru’s palms were sweaty, his face flushed. It was partly exhaustion, partly a lingering buzz… but it was more than that. He felt dirty. This was worse than what he felt with Seika—and it was just a voice on the goddamn phone.

“There’s a studio in Koenji,” he heard himself say.

“No!” the man snapped, and he took a sharp, hissing breath. “No studios. You may come to my apartment.”

“Your apartment?”

“Please. It is… difficult, for me to go out.”

“Um… okay.” What the hell did that mean?

“I live in Meguro,” the man said. “Near the live house. I can send you the address. If you’ll come.” There was a plea in his voice, a quiet desperation. Teru swallowed, hard.

“You want to give me singing lessons?”

“Yes.”

This was insane. “When?”

“Whenever you are free.”

Teru glanced at his calendar. June, 2000. Three years, almost to the day, since he had stepped off the night bus from Niigata. After all that time, he didn’t even have anything to lose.

About the Author

Estella Mirai lives just outside of Tokyo with her human family and a very spoiled lap cat. When she isn’t reading or writing, she works in editing and translation—which means that 99% percent of her day is usually words. In her minimal free time, she enjoys watching musicals, cooking (badly), and slaughtering power ballads at karaoke.

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Meik & Sebastian – Obsessed#4

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Book Title: Meik&Sebastian – Obsessed #4

Author: Quin Perin

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Garrett Leigh

Genre/s: Gay Erotic Romance

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 18 000 words/ 75 pages

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Blurb

After ruining his chances with Sebastian, Meik is plagued by the past and haunted by the present. His escape: booze and sex. But the memories of Gabe continuously well up and never ebb. They become an ever-present companion he cannot escape.

Will he hoist himself out of depression to seal the past and face the present or will he lose himself in the bottom of the bottle?

This is the fourth and FINAL book of the Gay Erotic Romance “Obsessed”. It features explicit adult m/m content as well as romantic elements. Warning: mentions of illness and death.

Excerpt

Meik checked his hair in the rearview mirror. One more time before slipping out of his father’s car. He’d pulled it up to the curb in front of Gabe’s house about ten minutes ago; he’d spent all of those ten minutes fixing his hair. Again and again. It was obsessive, and he knew it, but he wanted to look his best for Gabe.

Smoothing down his shirt, he headed to the front door and rang the doorbell. He waited for a beat before pushing the door open. Gabe’s mother paused in the doorway, eyeing Meik. “Oh, it’s you,” she said, not remotely surprised to see him.

“Well, nice to see you too.” Meik snorted.

She waved her hand, looking up at the stairs. “Gabe! Meik’s here!” she called before facing Meik again. “Where are you two going?”

Meik stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “There’s a new movie, and we might go get something to eat after.” He left out that they’d probably end up making out in the car at some point. They’d agreed to keep the date thing a secret, and they were definitely keeping the making out and heavy petting to themselves as well.

Nodding, she headed back to the kitchen. “Don’t stay out too late and let me know if you’ll spend the night.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned.

“Don’t call me ma’am!”

Meik’s comeback died on his tongue when he heard footsteps on the stairs. His eyes fixed on Gabe, heart throbbing madly in his chest. Neither of them had dressed out of the ordinary. They didn’t want to raise suspicion, but Meik still thought Gabe looked breathtaking. His dark eyes glittered, and a rose petal pink blush adorned his cheeks. The clothes he wore were a bit tighter than normal, jeans clung to slender thighs, and a fitted t-shirt emphasized his thin, narrow chest. Meik’s palms itched with the desire to touch, to grope. He wanted to see what that ass looked like without those pants on.

Swallowing, Meik turned towards the door. “Ready to go?” He was surprised at how calm he sounded. His mouth felt dry, tongue heavy.

“Yeah,” Gabe replied, a thud signifying that he’d jumped down the last two steps. He always did that, and his mother always said he was going to break an ankle one day. “Bye, mom!”

“Bye, honey, be careful!” She didn’t even peek out again.

Meik almost felt bad. They weren’t lying. Not really. They were going to hang out, just as more than friends. It had been Gabe’s idea not to tell his parents and telling Meik’s had never been an option. Gabe thought if his parents—especially his mother—found out, Meik wouldn’t be allowed to come over and stay the night anymore. It made a lot of sense, and if things progressed with them, the cover of being friends would make it so much easier to get Gabe into bed.

Not that Meik had spent way too much time fantasizing about that lately.

About the Authors

This is Quin&Perin. We are a team of Sultry Gay Romance writers who focus on detailed, toe-curling, and realistic smut scenes with a fair share of dirty talking (Oh, boy). Unlike other authors, we write without the goal of publishing anything. Publishing is just the cherry on top of a cream-covered bubble butt.

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Twisted Love

Title: Twisted Love
Author: R. Linda
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Editor: Spell Bound Editing Services
Cover Designer: Pink Ink Designs
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Blurb:
Running.
It’s what I do. What I’ve always done.
For fitness. For fun.
And now for fear.
He took me. Trapped me. Destroyed me.
Broke me down, little by little.
His captive.
His slave.
His pet.
But…something unleashes.
Something forbidden. The passion. The pleasure.
It’s wrong. Unforgiving, and I should do what I do.
Run like Hell.
From this Twisted Love.

Buy Link:
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R. Linda drinks wine and writes books.
A coffee addicted, tattoo enthusiastic fangirl with a slight obsession for a particular British boy band and solo artist, she is a writer of Contemporary YA/NA Romance and Suspense, sometimes dabbling in Paranormal as well.
Renee lives in Melbourne, Australia with her husband and two sons. When not writing she can often be found reading books to her children and cuddling up with them on the couch to watch their favourite movies.
Author Links:
Get up close and personal with R.Linda, as well as sneak peeks, awesome giveaways and exclusive content in her reader groups on:
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Amazon: https://amzn.to/2qtQVDa
I didn’t even realise that I had reached for him, until Hendrix flinched at my touch. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He shook his head.
“Do you want me to stop?” I asked as I touched the small round cigarette burns.
“No.”
There were hundreds of them, dotting his. I traced my fingers over each one, feeling his pain. My heart clenched.
Hendrix’s breathing increased and I wondered if I was pushing him too far, but he still didn’t stop me.
My hand drifted down to a large triangular scar on his lower back. I traced the slightly curved edges and winced in pain as I thought about what could have caused such a bad scar.
“What did he do to you?” I whispered so soft I wasn’t sure Hendrix heard.
“Hot iron. My shirt was wrinkled and I looked like a slob.”
“Oh, Hendrix.”
“I was eleven.”
If it were possible for my heart to break any more, it did, right then.
Shattered.
Tears rolled down my cheeks as images of an eleven-year-old Hendrix being held down by Ray flashed through my mind.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered into his back, wrapping my arms around his waist until they came to rest on his stomach. His hands found mine, covering them completely. His body trembled, and I had no idea how to comfort him. How to take away the pain, torment, torture.
I pressed my lips to a scar on his shoulder and he tensed, tightened his fingers around mine. I wanted to make him feel better, make him forget the pain of his past for just a little while.
Throwing caution to the wind, I turned him to face me.
“Lucy.” His voice was low, gravelly. “Stop.”
“No.” I cupped his cheek with my hand and pressed my lips together in a small smile. “Kiss me.”
He froze. Conflict warred in his eyes as he lowered his gaze and dragged it leisurely over my body.
I just wanted a moment for us to both forget. For Hendrix to lose himself in me and forget his past. I wanted to forget where I was, forget that my life was hell. I wanted to feel something other than hatred, and Hendrix’s kisses and fingers on my skin always sparked something in me; a fire, a desire that I constantly had to extinguish. But right then, maybe it was the fact he was trying so hard to be noble and do the right thing, I just wanted to give into the flames and burn with him.
As if following my train of thought, Hendrix’s eyes flashed to life, a low growl erupted from his throat and he slammed his mouth down on mine. My hands were in his hair, my lips moulded to his, a small whimper escaped. And I really didn’t know if it was me or him. Or if it was out of pleasure, comfort, or fear. It didn’t matter. It just was.
His hands cupped my face as he stepped back. Breathing hard, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against mine. “Can I tell you something?” he whispered against my lips.
“Yes.”
“I’m scared, Lucy. I’m scared I can’t fix this.” His voice was full of pain, anguish.
“Me too.” I pressed myself closer to him, needing the comfort and needing to comfort him.
“I won’t let him touch you, Lucy. At all. He’ll have to kill me first, okay? I promise you, you will be safe.”
I kissed him again.
Gave in to the flames

Blessed

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Book Title: Blessed

Author: Maggie Blackbird

Publisher: eXasty Books

Cover Artist: Martine Jardin

Genre/s: M/M, Contemporary, Spiritual, Religious, Multi-Cultural, Romance

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 92,784 words/330 pages

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Tagline

A mixed-blood Catholic seminarian struggles to discern his true calling: the priesthood or his ex-lover, a proud but damaged Ojibway man.

Blurb

It’s been ten years since Emery Matawapit sinned, having succumbed to temptation for the one thing in his life that felt right, another man. In six months he’ll make a life-changing decision that will bar him from sexual relationships for the rest of his life.

Darryl Keejik has a decade-long chip on his shoulder, and he holds Emery’s father, the church deacon, responsible for what he’s suffered: the loss of his family and a chance at true love with Emery. No longer a powerless kid, Darryl has influence within the community—maybe more than the deacon. Darryl intends on using his power to destroy Deacon Matawapit and his church.

Hoping to save the church, Emery races home. But stopping Darryl is harder than expected when their sizzling chemistry threatens to consume Emery. Now he is faced with the toughest decision of his life: please his devout parents and fulfill his call to the priesthood, or remain true to his heart and marry the man created for him.

An erotic spiritual journey…

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Excerpt

The putter of a diesel engine carried to where they stood at the side of the house.

“Sounds like the priest’s clunker.” Clayton puffed on the cigarette.

Knots formed in Darryl’s stomach. Did Emery accompany Father Bennie? What the heck was the priest doing up at Long River? Darryl lived at the reserve’s most northern district, far from Grassy, where the Matawapits resided.

Don’t watch them go by.

The car slowed and then turned into the driveway. Black, wavy hair appeared in the windshield. Hot tingles shot through Darryl’s arms and legs. He’d better get himself under control. Running into the coward was expected. It was the reason why he’d raced around the reserve like a fool earlier, trying to figure out what to say when they eventually crossed paths.

Had Emery come to apologize? Maybe reconnect? Wait a second. Someone had probably sent him. In the past, he hadn’t possessed the testicular fortitude to initiate anything. Father Bennie and Deacon Matawapit were up to something.

“Is that Emery?” Clayton frowned.

“Yeah. Gimme a second.” Darryl marched around the side of the house. When the car door opened, he froze.

Emery’s long legs appeared. He straightened to a towering six-foot-something. His red lips, smooth, pale skin, and high cheekbones melted Darryl’s insides. Tight muscles filled out Emery’s blue polo shirt and white dress pants. His hair curled around his square shoulders. This wasn’t a skinny seventeen-year-old kid who’d favored worn jeans, hiking boots, and t-shirts, but a twenty-seven-year-old elegant man.

“Hello. I was hoping to catch you at home.” Emery doffed his sunglasses, exposing his thick black lashes and bright green eyes. He tapped his shades against firm thighs Darryl had caressed during the best time of his life.

Although Emery’s voice was deeper, the feathery tone still stroked Darryl deep inside his jeans. Quivering, he spat out a, “Hel—hi…” He cleared his throat of the damned frog making him sound like an idiot. “Hello.”

“I-I planned on stopping by sooner.” Emery’s gaze roamed in every direction. “I was busy… unpacking”

Darryl motioned to the side of the house. “I was heading out for a drive once I finish talking to someone.”

“Oh…” Emery’s gaze settled on Clayton, who appeared around the corner. “I’ll come back another day when you’re not busy.” Disappointment lined his voice. “Have a good night.”

When Emery turned for the car, Darryl’s frozen heart churned into overdrive. The question jumped from his mouth. “Where’re you going?”

Emery pivoted. “Back to the rectory. It’s where I’m staying during my visit.”

Darryl stifled his groan. Call him a sucker for asking. “You came here for a reason. Why?”

“Uh… I—” Emery held a fist to his mouth and coughed. “Do you have time for a walk?”

A shiver careened along Darryl’s spine. Instead of being prodded, Emery, of all people, had initiated something.

Clayton’s slim brows twisted downwards. “I guess we’re done?”

Everyone knew how tight Emery and Darryl had once been. The cunning coyote had better not think of Darryl as a traitor who’d lose focus on the Traditionalists Society’s mandate now that Emery was back. “We can finish our convo tomorrow. Stop by my office in the morning.”

“Never mind. I’m outta here.” Clayton stamped to his pick-up parked on the side of the road. He glowered at Emery, who returned the frown with a nod.

Fire crackled through Darryl’s veins. Hostility and rudeness to another wasn’t the purpose of the Traditionalists Society.

“We can meet at the Treaty Grounds.” Darryl used an even tone, though his pulse points raced faster than a bear chasing down dinner. “Right now my road’s pretty much the Trans Canada.”

A truck pulling a skiff rambled by.

“Everyone’s heading out for the evening fish.”

“Okay.” Emery’s mouth remained closed while his full lips moved upward. He had the same shy smile capable of melting Darryl’s limbs. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Sure.” Darryl slid on the four-wheeler.

Emery opened the car door and got in. He drove off and left a trail of dust in his wake.

Darryl turned the key. The machine’s engine roared to life. This couldn’t be happening. Someone must have plopped him in the middle of a dream. Who was the courageous man who’d come of his own accord?

He steered the four-wheeler down the driveway. People changed. Before entering St. Michael’s Seminary, Emery had lived in Thunder Bay to attend university. Being out from under his father’s thumb had probably given his confidence a much-needed boost.

His dad’s here and he sought me out.

Had Emery told Father Bennie his intentions for the evening? Where would their talk lead to? There was only one way to find out—drive faster to the Treaty Grounds.

About the Author

An Ojibway from Northwestern Ontario, Maggie resides in the country with her husband and their fur babies, two beautiful Alaskan Malamutes. When she’s not writing, she can be found pulling weeds in the flower beds, mowing the huge lawn, walking the Mals deep in the bush, teeing up a ball at the golf course, fishing in the boat for walleye, or sitting on the deck at her sister’s house, making more wonderful memories with the people she loves most.

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Beyond Spells

Title: Beyond Spells
Author: Harmony Lawson
Genre: NA Fantasy
Editor: Rogena Mitchell Jones
Blurb:
On the eve of her sixteenth birthday, Mercedes Weaver inherits an ancient book of spells. She is told it was written by angels and given a warning, as well. She fails to heed this warning about the consequences of using the spells in the book. After Mercedes invokes an angel named William, the unimaginable happens—she falls in love with him. The closer Mercedes and William become, the deeper the situation escalates, and everyone she’s ever loved will be put in danger.
It all comes down to an inconceivable choice. If she hadn’t risked everything, she wouldn’t have met William and their love wouldn’t have gone Beyond Spells.
 
Buy Link:

 

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2rgKio6

 

 
Harmony Lawson and her family live in Northern California in the beautiful foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. She is mostly self-taught in drawing, painting, and writing. She is fascinated by angels, and incorporates her research in angels, the Nephilim, and fallen angels into her fictional stories.
While she has endured many hardships in life, she believes she has learned something new from her experiences. Life has its ups and downs, trials and tribulations, and Heaven and Hell. She believes the bad times are a test to prove a person’s worth. Her books reflect on that concept. Writing also helps her heal from past traumas. In the meantime, she cares for her family, loves her pugs, and remains silly through all that life throws at her. Her goal is to be an introverted hobbit.

Author Links:
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2HDwBWS
Buy Link:

 

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2rgKio6

 

 

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