Released! COWBOYS DON’T RIDE UNICORNS by Tara Lain #bullrider #gayromance #cowboys

Country boy and city slicker. Cowboy and decorator. Bull rider and — unicorn!  Opposites powerfully attract in Tara Lain’s new romance, but can they find a way to be together? Check out Cowboys Don’t Ride Unicorns.

Hi everyone! Welcome to the release of my new cowboy romance! One reviewer said if she could give this book 25 stars, she would! Read on and i hope you enjoy it!!

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March 27, 2017
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March 29, 2017
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March 31, 2017 
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April 3, 2017
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April 4, 2017 
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Stories That Make You Smile

 

Cowboys Don’t Ride Unicorns
(Cowboys Don’t Series, #2)
By Tara Lain


Blurb

Cowboy Danny Boone—a name he made up one drunken night and has regretted ever since—harbors a big past and yearns for a small future. A short, bright career as a champion bull rider almost ended in his death when his homophobic father discovered Danny was gay. Now Danny longs for a plot of land he can build a ranch house on and enough money to make up for some of the education he missed.

Danny also hides a preference for beautiful femmes who like to top—a combo rarer than a unicorn. Then onto the guest ranch where Danny works drives San Francisco decorator Laurie Belmont, a young man so gorgeous he makes horses gasp, and so ballsy he almost kills Danny’s attacker.

Laurie’s trying to find his way out from under the thumb of a domineering mother, helpless father, and rich, privileged boyfriend. But no matter the attraction, their lives are worlds apart, and cowboys don’t ride unicorns.

Available for purchase at

 

Also available in paperback

 

Excerpts

 

“I want to
see what’s ahead.” He coaxed Tramp into a trot and then a canter, and before
Danny could even register it, he was in a full-on gallop.
“Shit!” Danny
glanced at Grove, who looked worried. Danny frowned. “Should I go after him?
He’s pretty sure in the saddle, but he doesn’t know the area.”
“Yes, please.
He’s pissed, and he’s got a wicked temper. Plus he’s fond of biting off more
than he can chew.”
Danny
scrubbed the accompanying image of Laurie’s biting and chewing from his brain
and took off after him at speed. Danny rode Star Gazer, a beautiful black
Arabian who had lots of speed on Tramp, but Laurie had a head start.
Danny
galloped down the path, looking for signs of Tramp ahead. Finally he saw the
flick of her tail rounding a corner, and he turned Star Gazer into the rough
and ran catty-corner to intercept Laurie. When Danny came up beside Tramp,
Laurie rode easily, grinning and obviously having way too much fun. Danny waved
him down. “Stop, damn it.”
Laurie gave
him a pouty look but slowed Tramp to a trot. “What’s wrong?”
“Just stop.”
Laurie
frowned and pulled up Tramp.
Danny waved a
hand to the right. “There’s a little stream over there. Let her get a drink.”
He walked Star Gazer through the trees to the trickle of water, so precious in
drought-ridden California.
Laurie
dismounted and dropped his reins, letting Tramp get her own water.
Danny did the
same, and as Star Gazer walked to the stream, Danny turned on Laurie. “First,
you don’t know this area. Going that fast, you could have hit barbed wire, or
for that matter, the highway that comes up fast in a half mile. Second, Tramp
isn’t an Arabian. Yes, she’s got some speed, but she’s older and not bred to
gallop for that long.”
“I asked to
ride the Palomino.” He crossed his arms.
“And you may
get to if it’s okay with Rand, but you’ve got to respect the horses, and making
them pay for your temper isn’t the way to do it.”
Laurie’s eyes
widened a bit; then he stared at his boots. “Tramp seems more than willing to
run.”
Danny stepped
closer. “A quality of horses you should be aware of is that they don’t always
act in their own best interests. The same can be said for some humans.” Breathe. “You shouldn’t be riding alone.
Period.”
Laurie
stepped closer and thrust his pretty face toward Danny. “Okay, simple. You can
ride with me.”
“I’ve got
work to do.”
“News flash.”
Laurie took another step. “I am your
work.”
One more step
and they’d be nose-to-nose—or lips-to-lips. Danny stared at that mouth like it
held the secrets of the universe. What would those lips taste like? Big cowboy in the sky, help me.

 

 

Two hours
later he’d drawn his bull—a huge sucker named Scorpion, and from the looks on
Maury’s team’s faces, he must have the sting to go with the name. As they
walked to the chutes, Maury clapped a hand on Danny’s shoulders. “Careful.
Don’t underestimate Scorpion. He’s meaner than piss.”
“Sounds like
not my luckiest draw.”
“Well, let’s
just say he’ll earn a lot of points.”
Danny
propped himself on the fence and slid onto the broad back, feeling the heat of
the animal under him. He worked with the rope puller Maury had provided to get
his bull rope in exactly the tautness and configuration he liked best. Scorpion
shifted restlessly but didn’t try to slam Danny against the fence. Danny leaned
down toward the twitching ear. “I’m your friend, Scorpion. I’ll make you look
good if you return the favor.”
The cowboy
closest to Danny chuckled.
The
announcer called, “Next up, we got a new rider named Danny Boone. If you’ve
been in California lately, you know Danny’s been doing his share of winning. So
let’s see if he’s up to the great state of Nevada.”
Danny
adjusted his vest, planted his hat, wrapped his hand tight enough to hold but
not so tight he couldn’t let go—and nodded.
Fucking hell
broke loose. The bull leaped out of the stall in a full breakaway—not a move
bulls usually performed. Danny vaguely heard the crowd gasp over his own intake
of breath. She-it. Just pretend he’s a bronc. Danny flapped
his loose hand toward the sky and adjusted the roll of his hips and movement of
his spine to accommodate the bull’s unique style. He spurred for a couple of extra
points, but truth was he could barely stay on this sucker. Just try to look good. The hurt didn’t exist—until later.
Scorpion
sunfished, throwing his legs to the side, and Danny rode the buck, trying like
a son of a bitch to look in control. Wham!
All four hooves hit the ground straight-legged, and the impact shot up Danny’s
back in a bolt of pain. Much longer and that bell on the bull’s belly would be
tolling for Danny. For an instant Laurie’s face flashed in his mind.
After what
felt like an hour, the horn sounded.
He waited
for old Scorpion to stop spinning, kicked to the side, and landed standing.
Scorpion hadn’t taken kindly to Danny’s offer of friendship and took off after
him like he’d been given a contract on his life. Danny leaped to the side and
let Scorpion sail past. Two bullfighters jumped in front of Scorpion, but the
damned bull was hard to distract. He swiped at Danny twice more, getting lots
of reaction from the crowd, and finally stampeded after the bullfighters, who
lured him into the exit chute.
Danny walked
out of the arena too as the announcer said, “Looks like Danny Boone can take on
the big dogs with the best of them. Good ride.”
A couple of guys
slapped his shoulder, and he nodded. Don’t
let ’em see you sweat.
 

 

 

Cowboys Don’t Series
Cowboys Don’t Come Out
Bk #1
Available for purchase at
         
About the Author

 

Tara Lain writes the Beautiful Boys of Romance in LGBT erotic romance novels that star her unique, charismatic heroes. Her first novel was published in January of 2011 and she’s now somewhere around book 32. Her best-selling novels have garnered awards for Best Series, Best Contemporary Romance, Best Paranormal Romance, Best Ménage, Best LGBT Romance, Best Gay Characters, and Tara has been named Best Writer of the Year in the LRC Awards. In her other job, Tara owns an advertising and public relations firm. She often does workshops on both author promotion and writing craft.  She lives with her soul-mate husband and her soul-mate dog near the sea in California where she sets a lot of her books.  Passionate about diversity, justice, and new experiences, Tara says on her tombstone it will say “Yes”!

 

You can find Tara at Lain

               

Giveaway

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Presented by

Win a Kindle Fire and Meet Some Bad Boys!! #Booksweeps

Hi —

I’m one of the Bad Boy lovers participating in the Booksweeps Bad Boy Erotic Romances Drawing! Want to enter? You can win a Kindle Fire and 55 erotic Bad Boy romances by your fave authors. I’m included. the book i’m offering is Knave of Broken Hearts because Jim Carney is a definite Bad Boy — too much booze, too little responsibility and too much sex — with the wrong gender for him!

To enter go HERE

And i might mention that my newest release Fire Balls has a pretty naughty hero too — of a very different kind. You can read about him HERE.

Thank you for stopping by and be sure to enter HERE.

Fire Balls is Released! #gayromance #ballstothewall #firefighter #oppositesattract

Hi and welcome! I’m so delighted to be re-releasing one of my most popular stories  — Fire Balls! I hope you love this romance of opposites attracting between a feisty painter and a quiet firefighter! Be sure to enter to win on the Rafflecopter and thank you for visiting!  : )

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February 8, 2017 
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Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews

February 10, 2017 
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Bayou Book Junkie
Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews
Bookworm Brandee

Fire Balls
(Balls to the Wall Series, Bk #2)
By Tara Lain


Blurb:

Renowned artist Rodney Mansfield stands five foot six, has pink hair, six earrings, a black belt in karate—and a desperate yearning for firefighter Hunter Fallon. But Rod, the Runtback of Notre Dame, knows he’ll never land the beautiful “straight gay” guy, so Rod musters his altruism and helps his more masculine friend Jerry attract Hunter. As if a broken heart wasn’t enough, Rod saves Hunter from a firehouse homophobe—humiliating Hunter in front of his dad!

Hunter lives a dream life—his father’s dream. While he’d like to teach literature in college, read poetry in the sun, and find a strong guy to top him, he fights fires for his dad. Hunter hates flamboyant guys like Rodney. So why can’t he resist him? Maybe it’s time to admit this is one flame he has no desire to put out.

 

Available to purchase
      

 

 

Excerpts

 

He leaned back on the couch. “Anyway, he’s dreamy,
straight-up divine. Sweet and nice and smart. Shit, man, have you ever seen
anything so beautiful?”
Too much. Rod got up and went back to the easel.
At least he didn’t have to stare into Jerry’s smitten face. Crap, he wanted to
be happy for the guy. He really did. “He’s beautiful, all right.”
“And guess what? He asked about you.”
No breath. “He, uh, did?”
“Yeah. Said you were so talented. See, I told you not to
leave.”
“Didn’t want to be a third wheel.”
“Hey, my man, you’re my brother from another mother. What I
got, you got. So I’m going on another date with him, and he loves to read and
shit. Could you tell me some stuff to talk about?”
Oh dear God. “So what have you read, Jerry?”
He looked at his hands. “I, uh, read a few romance novels.”
“I think it’s okay to talk about those, but you have to know
some other writers too. So think. What did you read in high school?”
“Comic books.”
“Graphic novels?”
“Yeah. Man, I love Watchmen and X-Men and Batman.”
“Comic books.” He walked over to a bookshelf he kept tucked
away in the corner of the studio. When he rested on the couch, he loved to read
himself to sleep. “Have you ever heard of Lord Byron?”
Jerry shook his head. “Sounds like a rock star.”
“He kind of was for his time. He was a poet.” He took out a
slim volume and began to read from Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage. “Roll on,
thou deep and dark blue ocean—roll! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in
vain; man marks the earth with ruin—his control stops with the shore.” When he
got to “unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown” he looked up.
Jerry’s big blue eyes shone with tears. “Hey, man, that’s
awesome. Probably not a surfer, I guess. All the ‘thees’ and ‘thous’ sound kind
of old. But that dude knew what a surfer feels, man. We ride on top of the—what
did he call it?—deep and dark blue ocean. And we know we can sink and never be
heard from again, man. Axed. It’s how we want to go if we gotta.”
He had to stop underestimating this man. Rod walked over to
the couch and handed the book to Jerry. “Just be yourself. He’s got to love
you.”
“Wow, thanks. But I’ll read this, man. Every word, or at
least the words I understand, okay?”
He smiled. “Okay.”
“I sure do like the way you read it, though.”

Rod laughed, took back the book, and began to read.

 

The firefighters piled out onto the hard-packed dirt drive
and hauled the hose toward the hydrant out by the highway. Shit, they were just
going to make it… if they were lucky.
“Save him. Help, please, help,” one woman screamed, pointing
toward the building.
What? He gave his spot on the hose to another man and ran to
the woman’s side. “Ma’am. What do you mean?”
The woman on the driveway was white as a cloud and pointing,
her mouth working. “Rod. Rodney. He ran in. Do something.”
He gripped her arm. “Ran in? Rodney ran in there?” Ice froze
his heart.
“Yes, yes. I came over to see, and suddenly he just ran past
me and straight in the door. I don’t know where his car is….”
Hell no! He pulled on his respirator and ran
toward the door of the studio. His heart beat way too fast. Had to get control.
Why, why would Rod do it? What was worth his life? His life. He couldn’t die. Hell, no.
“Fallon, wait. Don’t go in alone,” Cam screamed behind him.
Hell, no. No time to wait. Rod was in there.
The screen door, the damned squeaky screen door, hung half
off its hinges. He tore it away and, hunched against the heat, moved into the
studio. Smoke. Embers raining down. The heat pushed like a wall through his
gear. The flames crawled along the half-missing roof like a snake slinking
along a branch, hissing.
Stop. Think. The part of the structure
closest to the door remained most intact. He dropped to the floor and scooted
along a few feet. Not much in here. Beside him, the old desk had burned nearly
to ash. His heart hammered. Breathe slowly. Don’t panic.
Where is he?
Can’t be too late. No, hell, no. Never
too late.
He crawled another couple of feet and pressed his head down by
the floor, squinting through the smoke…. Yes!
A body. Rod. Collapsed on the floor clutching a small canvas
to his chest. The insane idiot. No painting was worth this. Crouching, Hunter
covered the few steps.

Jesus,
Rod looked so small. And… so still. Hell,
no
. Hunter pulled Rod into his arms. Felt right. Felt good. Hunter took off
his respirator and fitted it over Rod’s nose and mouth. Breathe for me, baby.
Rod’s body hung, limp as a doll.

 

 

The Balls to the Wall Series


Volley Balls
Bk #1

Available at
 
      

 

About the Author

 

Tara Lain writes the Beautiful Boys of Romance in LGBT erotic romance novels that star her unique, charismatic heroes. Her first novel was published in January of 2011 and she’s now somewhere around book 32. Her best-selling novels have garnered awards for Best Series, Best Contemporary Romance, Best Paranormal Romance, Best Ménage, Best LGBT Romance, Best Gay Characters, and Tara has been named Best Writer of the Year in the LRC Awards. In her other job, Tara owns an advertising and public relations firm. She often does workshops on both author promotion and writing craft.  She lives with her soul-mate husband and her soul-mate dog near the sea in California where she sets a lot of her books.  Passionate about diversity, justice, and new experiences, Tara says on her tombstone it will say “Yes”!

 

You can find Tara at Lain
               

 

 

 

Presented By

VOLLEY BALLS Released! Doubled in Length #BallstotheWall #AlphaMales

Hi and welcome! I’m so delighted to be re-releasing VOLLEY BALLS, the first book in my Balls to the Wall series. I always felt Volley Balls was too short and didn’t fully explore the romance, so i’ve expanded the book by nearly double. even if you read the original, you’ll find new things here to love — I hope!  LOL. Volley Balls is a MMM menage and is the only book in the series that is. I hope you enjoy it sooo much. Watch for Fire Balls on Feb 8th and the re-release of the entire series with some new books added throughout 2017 and the beginning of 2018. Time to get your Balls on!  : )

Tour DatesJanuary 11, 2017 
Buffy’s Ramblings
V’s Reads

January 12, 2017 
Bookworm Brandee

January 13, 2017 
Alpha Book Club

January 14, 2017 
Books,Dreams,Life

January 15, 2018 
Readaholics Anonymous

January 16, 2017 
books are love

January 17, 2017 
Making it Happen

Volley Balls

(Balls to the Wall Series, Bk #1)
By Tara Lain

 
 
Blurb:
A double dose of alpha male might be better than one. Tara Lain’s popular novella, Volley Balls, is now expanded and revised. 
Despite just getting out of an abusive relationship with an asshole alpha, David Underwood’s wandering glance lands on two hot members of the Australian volleyball team on Laguna Beach and gets him harassed again. Still, when the delicious Gareth Marshall proves his interest by coming out to his team, David succumbs to his attraction. But Gareth’s volleyball partner, Edge, who’s equally hot, makes the lovers’ lives miserable.
For Gareth, a lifetime of hiding his orientation—and his attraction—from his best friend, Edge, as well as everyone else around him, adds up to hurt and frustration. David’s the first man to ever compete with Edge for Gareth’s passion. But Edge has secrets of his own, and David’s ex-lover will never be happy without David under his fist. With everything stacked against him, can a gay Laguna man find happiness with an alpha male–or two?
Available at
 
      
 

 

Excerpts

 

Leaning against the wall by the door, blocking his
exit, was “the friend.” The delicious, terrifying, dark-haired beach guy,
sporting an inscrutable expression—part grin and part grimace.
Holy shit. This could
not be another accidental meeting.
Scared and pissed—an adrenaline-intensive combo. His
heart beat like a bass drum and goose bumps covered his arms—and his dick.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he shouted. Best defense and all that.
The dark-haired guy shrugged and kind of ducked. “I
hate to admit it, but I followed you.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. I went to your store to see you and saw you
walking over here, so—” He shrugged again. “—I followed you.”
David’s stomach turned. “Shit! Jesus, get away from
me.” But he couldn’t force his leaden legs to pass the man. In fact, he fell
back a couple of feet.
The guy pushed off from the wall and stepped toward
him. “Is that guy your boyfriend?”
“None of your business.” David put up his hands. “You
can’t get away with beating up gay men in Laguna. This isn’t some Neanderthal
country. You’ll get arrested,”
The guy paused and frowned. “Who said anything about
beating you up?”
“How about your fucking friend?”
The guy took another step toward David. “He’s not me.
Understand?” It sounded like understend.
“I mean you no harm, mate. Honest.”
David pressed back against the wall. Trapped. Maybe he
could slip to the side. “Then what do you want? Why are you following me?”
The guy stopped. “I don’t usually act this way. All
stalkery.”
“Thanks a fuck for reserving it for me.”
“It’s just I saw you three times and—I guess three’s a
charm like they say. I want to take you out—like to dinner.”
David gasped. “What?” He turned only his eyes toward
the Aussie. The guy was gazing at David’s face like some painting in his
gallery.
“I saw you last night. At that art thingy. I thought
you were perfect. Those cheekbones, that ass. Sorry. I’d like to take you out.”
“Out? As in on a date out?”
“Yeh, that’s the idea.”
Of all the fucking
nerve….
David
shoved off the wall, hands firmly planted on his hips. “Are you trying to tell
me that you’re gay? Running around harassing innocent people with that band of
delinquents, and you’re a closet case? Give me a break! Haven’t you heard? It’s
chic to be gay. We can get married and everything. Get into this decade.”
“Sorry. It’s just I’m a volleyballer. And Australian,
at least currently. We don’t come out. But I’d really like to take you out.”
“As your pal? Right.” David flipped his hair. “No,
asshole. Get away from me. I do not do this. I don’t go with men who aren’t
proud of who and what they are. Not anymore. Never again. Go back to your
closet and play with your volleyballs.”

 

David buried his head in Gareth’s broad chest and,
much to his disgust, started to cry. The feelings didn’t even make sense.
Anger, jealousy, lust, and—yes, fear. At the heart of it all. He started to
shake. Gareth pulled him tighter, but it wouldn’t stop. Phil’s angry face
stared at him. Screamed at him. His fist descended—again and again. Pain and
anger and shame. “Oh God!”
“What, love?” Gareth kissed his hair.
“I was so afraid.”
“Nothing to fear, love.”
“Phil. Oh God. He said he wanted to kill me. I think
he would have if Edge hadn’t come.” He burrowed into Gareth’s arms.
“We’re here now, love. Nothing more to fear. You took
care of that bastard. He won’t bother you again.”
Edge’s deep voice came from behind him. “If he comes
near you, I’ll kill the asshole.”
David sucked in breath and turned in Gareth’s arms. He
saw Gareth shake his head, warning Edge. “David took care of him, Edge. He got
the police and had him thrown in jail.”
David wiped at his eyes. “Thank you, Gareth. I know I
said I could take care of myself, but I lied. I’ve been alone so long. I only
got involved with Phil because I was lonely and wanted someone to care about
me. Instead, he hit me and abused me. I’m so grateful to Edge for saving me
today. I’m so grateful to both of you for not being the kind of man that Phil
is. So grateful.” The tears ran down his cheeks again and dripped off his chin.
Edge stepped closer and tipped up David’s chin with
his finger. He did something David hardly ever saw him do. He smiled. “I know
I’m a big Neanderthal with no fucking manners, but sometimes that’s a handy
kind of guy to have around.” Funny how David hadn’t noticed those dimples in
Edge’s cheeks before. Like you could sharpen pencils in them.
David stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Edge
in a huge hug. “Thank you. I’m so glad you were there. I’m so grateful.”
Edge chuckled, and the vibration zipped straight to
David’s cock. Down, boy.
Another pair of strong arms wrapped around him from
behind and made it a group hug.

 

David giggled. “I’m the filling in an Aussie sandwich.
If I’d known, it would have been my lifetime aspiration.”

 

 

 

 

About the Author

 

Tara Lain writes the Beautiful Boys of Romance in LGBT erotic romance novels that star her unique, charismatic heroes. Her first novel was published in January of 2011 and she’s now somewhere around book 32. Her best-selling novels have garnered awards for Best Series, Best Contemporary Romance, Best Paranormal Romance, Best Ménage, Best LGBT Romance, Best Gay Characters, and Tara has been named Best Writer of the Year in the LRC Awards. In her other job, Tara owns an advertising and public relations firm. She often does workshops on both author promotion and writing craft.  She lives with her soul-mate husband and her soul-mate dog near the sea in California where she sets a lot of her books.  Passionate about diversity, justice, and new experiences, Tara says on her tombstone it will say “Yes”!

 

You can find Tara at Lain
               
Presented By

RJ Scott’s SNOW IN MONTANA. #Prizes #gayromance #romancetropes

 Hi. So glad you’re here.  It’s my delight today to welcome RJ Scott to the blog with the brand new book,  RJ Scott’s SNOW IN MONTANA. If you’ve been following RJ’s tour, you’ve read some yummy bits and here’s another just for you! Be sure to keep reading and enter on the Rafflecopter below!

copy-of-montana-4-llb-banner

Memories that won’t stay hidden

 RJ Scott

Adam begins to dream and recall things from his former life. Only snippets, a shadowy dark haired man tracking him, seeing the two men on the ranch he’d been at in Witness Protection being shot, watching Stretch, his tattoo artist being killed. Only in all his dreams, Justin is there, right on edge, and not once does he come over to Adam and save him from what is happening.

Was Justin even there? Does Adam recall things that never happened? He wasn’t even in the tattoo shop when Stretch died, but his head is filling in the blanks with events he couldn’t possibly have seen.

Or is it?

The lines between what is real and what is imagination serve to throw him off his recovery. He accuses Justin; needs to know what happened, and Ethan is torn between lover and brother.

Recovery from a head injury and this kind of amnesia is not a smooth journey. Does Adam recall Justin’s appearances only because Justin is back in his life? Will their friendship be destroyed? Is the only choice that Justin has to leave Crooked Tree and give Adam space to heal? And what about Sam?

This is the second thread of the story in this book, a look at how Adam and Justin are getting on after their own stories (Adam in A Rancher’s Son, and Justin in The Cowboys Home).

Christmas, amnesia, brothers torn apart by loving someone else – these are all my favorite tropes in fiction. What are your favorite tropes?

 
 
Blurb

An actor in the closet, a sheriff in love, and memories that won’t stay hidden.

Jordan Darby is known as the King of Christmas. The star of eight made-for-TV Christmas movies, the leading man who always gets his girl. Filming at Crooked Tree Ranch in Montana, in the ice and snow, Jordan is fighting to make a go of his new company and dealing with fears of exposure over one huge secret. After all, who the hell would buy into him being a romantic straight lead if rumors about him being gay were proven to be true?

Sheriff Ryan Carter is advising on the new movie being made at Crooked Tree. He hoped this would be one day of work and nothing more. Until, that is, he meets the hero. But while Jordan is sexy, he’s also very much stuck in the closet—everything that Ryan doesn’t need in his life. And then lust becomes part of the equation, and Ryan’s quiet life is thrown into turmoil.
Their story unfolds against the chaos that overtakes the ranch, with Adam regaining memories that terrify him and make him look at Justin differently, and Justin leaving the ranch to make things right. Only through trusting in love and friendship can Justin and Adam learn to look to the future instead of letting the past destroy everything. But will they ever see clearly enough to do that?

Author Bio

RJ Scott is the bestselling gay romance author of over ninety MM romance books. She writes emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, millionaire, princes, and the men who get mixed up in their lives. RJ is known for writing books that always end with a happy ever after. She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing.

RJ also writes MF romance under the name Rozenn Scott.

The last time she had a week’s break from writing she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a bottle of wine she couldn’t defeat.

mailto:rj@rjscott.co.uk
www.rjscott.co.uk/
www.facebook.com/author.rjscott?ref=ts&fref=ts
www.goodreads.com/author/show/3432558.R_J_Scott
twitter.com/Rjscott_author
www.librarything.com/author/scottrj

 

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COWBOYS DON’T COME OUT is Released! Prizes!

Hi and Welcome! Today, I’m delighted to tell you that my first ever cowboy romance, COWBOYS DON’T COME OUT is Released.  It’s now available everywhere. I really hope you enjoy it. and be sure to enter to win a $20 Amazon GC by entering on the Rafflecopter below. Thanks so much for coming by!

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(un)Conventional Bookviews

Cowboys Don’t Come Out
by Tara Lain
 
Blurb:
Rand McIntyre settles for good enough. He loves his small California ranch, raising horses, and teaching riding to the kids he adores—but having kids of his own and someone to love means coming out, and that would jeopardize everything he’s built. Then, despite his terror of flying, he goes on a holiday to Hana, Hawaii with his parents and meets the dark and mysterious Kai Kealoha, a genuine Hawaiian cowboy. Rand takes to Kai’s kid brother and sister as much as he drools over Kai, but the guy sports more prickles than a horned toad, and more secrets than the exotic land he comes from.
Kai’s earned his privacy and lives to protect his “kids.” He ought to stay away from the big, handsome cowboy for everyone’s sake—but since the guy’s just a haole on a short vacation, how much damage can he do? When all of Kai’s worst fears and Rand’s darkest nightmares come true at once, there’s not much chance for two cowboys who can’t—or won’t—come out.
Available for purchase at
            

 

Also available in paperback
Excerpts

 

He stopped
and tried to hear over the rushing of the surf out beyond the reef if anyone
else hid in the dark. No sounds. Fortunately, no big water hit this beach, so
he didn’t have to worry about getting swamped. Actually, between the lapping
waves and the brilliant moonlight, the scene resembled some fairy-tale romance.
Fuck that.
Right where
the dry sand verged on the wet, he flopped on his butt. What she’d said—that he
settled for a good-enough life. That he wasn’t happy. Don’t I get to decide that?
He leaned
back on his elbows. Yeah, but she’s
right. I created a whole life—as if I was somebody else. Most people find “the
one” and build a future so it suits them both. I imagined a cowboy and slid
into his boots—Rand McIntyre. Say that with a drawl, son. Just one problem. I’m
gay—always have been—and cowboys don’t come out. Where does that leave me?
A-fucking-lone, pardner. Always will be.
You’re not the only gay cowboy.
Have you seen Brokeback
Mountain? Shit.
Phosphorescence
sparkled on the tops of the waves farther out. Pretty. Guess there could be all kinds of weird man-eating shit in that water.
Do you think more sharks and barracudas swim at night than during
the day?
Yeah, right.
He sprang up,
stripped his Hawaiian shirt off and tossed it on the sand, then pulled off the
shorts his mom had given him. Commando. What would it feel like to have fishes
nibbling at his balls? Not like anybody else was doing any nibbling. He strode
into the water. Whoa! Not cold, just
startling.
When he waded
out past his thighs, his penis and balls started to float. He chuckled. Kind of
like being a kid in the bathtub. Endless hours of fun playing with your own
built-in toys. A few more steps, and he submerged to his shoulders. He gave a
tiny shiver. Weird being sunk in inky blackness. Still, the water felt good. He
kicked off and swam a few yards out, turned, and stroked back towards shore. He
wasn’t a good enough swimmer to push his luck alone at night.

 

After
treading water a couple of minutes, he pulled himself back into the shallows
and sat on the hard wet beach. He glanced down. Some shrinkage, but his balls
still lay on the sand. Remember to rinse
them off or you’ll itch.
Slowly he released his breath. What was he going
to do? Answer? Same as always. Nothing. He couldn’t risk all the great shit
he’d made to try to make it better.

 

 

Inside,
twilight dim. The room smelled warm and spicy. Funny, he hadn’t put that scent
together with Rand—but it was his, through and through. Nobody here. “Hello?”
“Looking for
me?” Rand walked out of the bathroom wearing a heart-stopping, breath-robbing
towel around his hips—uh, except for the slice of bare groin revealed because
the towel stood out in front like a banyan tree canopy. That cotton tent had to
be a lot more comfortable than the tight denim smothering Kai’s rising cock.
Too much air
flowed out with Kai’s words and made him sound like he’d just run a
half-marathon. “I was hoping that message about your nap might be intended for
me.”
“Yep.”
“So what did
you have in mind, cowboy?” Man, his heart throbbed in his dick. It ought to be
dancing the salsa.
“Some riding
lessons.”
“You’re the
teacher.”
“Nah, I’m the
quarter horse.”
Heart—stopped. “You want to
bottom?”
“Yep.”
“Holy hell.”
Rand stared
at Kai’s jeans and grinned. “You like that idea?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Good.
Condoms and lube are on the bed. My ass, I mean stallion, is at your service.”
Kai staggered
to the footstool in front of the corner chair, collapsed into it, and started
yanking at his boots. Rand walked over slow and easy-like. “Take your hat,
cowboy, or you want to fuck with it on?”
Fuck? Oh
shit, how long since he’d been with a man? A person? His cock steamed and
bobbed.

 

Rand grabbed
Kai’s Stetson and tossed it onto the coffee table, then took hold of Kai’s
other boot. The combination of two boots half-off flipped Kai onto his back on
the chair like a giant turtle. Rand hauled off the one boot, then grabbed the other
and pulled it too, sent both flying, then yanked on Kai’s jeans. “So much
trouble getting riders properly dressed.”

 

 

About the Author

 

Tara Lain writes the Beautiful Boys of Romance in LGBT erotic romance novels that star her unique, charismatic heroes. Her first novel was published in January of 2011 and she’s now somewhere around book 32. Her best-selling novels have garnered awards for Best Series, Best Contemporary Romance, Best Paranormal Romance, Best Ménage, Best LGBT Romance, Best Gay Characters, and Tara has been named Best Writer of the Year in the LRC Awards. In her other job, Tara owns an advertising and public relations firm. She often does workshops on both author promotion and writing craft.  She lives with her soul-mate husband and her soul-mate dog near the sea in California where she sets a lot of her books.  Passionate about diversity, justice, and new experiences, Tara says on her tombstone it will say “Yes”!

 

You can find Tara at Lain
               

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Presented By

DEATH DANCER by Tara Lain is Released! Ballet, Sex and Murder! #romanticsuspense

Hi and welcome. I’m so happy to announce that my first murder mystery romance, DEATH DANCER by Tara Lain is released at all outlets!  One reviewer says, “Death Dancer had it all! A whirlwind romance, death, a mystery, a thrilling mass murderer chase and true love.”

Tour Stops:November 29, 2016 

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December 2, 2016 

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MM Good Book Reviews

deathdancer_9781786515179_800

Death Dancer
(Dangerous Dancers #2)
By Tara Lain

Blurb:

A tattooed dancer and a by-the-book detective dance with death in the ego-fueled halls of ballet.
Bad boy of ballet, Valentin “Val” Aalto stands poised on the verge of huge success — except for one big obstacle. Influential lead dancer Harry Hardesty hates Val and cheats him out of the lead in Romeo and Juliet. When Hardesty winds up dead, Val looks like a prime suspect – and gets thrown under the detailed and methodical inspection of the handsome NY detective with the stick up his butt, Andrew Preston. At first, Preston believes Hardesty may be the victim of the chilling Dancer Killer who’s struck three victims, but evidence stacks up against Val. Still, Andrew can’t seem to keep his hands off his suspect and when the Dancer Killer starts stalking Val, Andrew is forced to choose between his dedication to a job he loves – and his growing passion for his beautiful dancer. Together Val and Andrew discover that chaos can be beautiful, one should choose desserts wisely, and love can even trump death in the rehearsal halls of ballet.
Available for purchase at
      
 
 
Excerpts

 

His eyes opened wide. Dark. Why am I awake? He shivered. No
so-called uncles trying to slip in beside him or boys sneaking in to drop ice
in his bed.
A sound, between a scratch and a squeak,
sent the feel of that long-remembered ice down his back. Don’t move yet.
Squrunch.
Woosh, Squrucnch.
Where? The
door? Too close. The window then?
Shit, the branch Andrew had freaked over.
Val’s heart slammed so hard it had to make a sound. The sheets over him
actually shook.
Andrew.
He snaked out a hand and grabbed his cell
phone. He pulled it under the covers.
Speed dial, baby.
One ring. Two. Three— “Preston.” Thanks for police reflexes.
He put his head under the covers and
whispered, “Andrew. It’s me.”
“I know. Why are you whispering? What’s
wrong?”
“Someone’s trying to break in, I think.”
“Shit. Jump out of bed. Yell into the
phone. Make it clear you’re talking to the police. Turn on all the lights. Now.
Go.”
Val threw back the covers, grabbed for the
bedside light and flipped it on, half expecting to see some killer standing in
his room, but nobody. “Police. Get here now! Someone’s breaking into my
apartment. Hurry. Please!” He raced around the apartment, turning on every
light.
Andrew’s voice, panting. “What do you
see?”
“Nothing. No one’s here.”
“Look out the window, but stand back in
case he has a gun.”
“Shit. Seriously?”
“No, it’s okay. Don’t do it.”
“Hell.” He sidled to the window, pulled
back the blinds and looked out. A sliver of light from his apartment shone into
the darkness outside, although darkness was relative and his street pretty much
never got more than dim. Staring between the buildings, he might have caught a
glimpse of movement below, but it could have been a cat or a shadow. “I don’t
see anything.”
A siren cut through the general noise of
traffic that created the background of Val’s world. Nothing unusual about
sirens, but this one got closer. Andrew was still breathing hard. Was he
running? Val looked again. “I hear the black and whites.”
“Yeah. Just pulled up in front of your
building, I think. They’ll buzz. Don’t let them in until I tell you.” The tinny
squawk of a police radio sounded in the background. Andrew seemed to be
talking. He came back on the cell. “Have they buzzed?”
The buzzer sounded.
“Yeah. Just now.”
“Okay. Let them in. I’ll be there in a
second.”
Val started to the door where the buzzer
was, stopped and laughed.
“What?”
“I forgot I’m bare-assed. I’d better grab
my jeans fast. See you in a second.” Still chuckling, he hit the buzzer,
grabbed his pants from the floor and was zipping them as the police knocked on
his door. New stair speed records. He
opened.
The young female cop’s eyes widened just a
little. “Valentin Aalto?”
He nodded.
“I understand you had an attempted break-in?”
Two male cops in uniform stood behind her.
“I think so, but I’m not sure. Come in
while I grab a shirt.”
Her half smile said ‘not on my account’,
but she didn’t voice it. “Tell me what happened, sir.”
He pulled a long-sleeved T-shirt over his
head. “I was asleep. I’m a light sleeper. I woke up and heard a strange sound,
like a scrunching and a squeaking. I might not have thought anything about it
since I’d double-locked the door, but An— Detective Preston inspected this
apartment and suggested the limbs on the tree outside should be cut since they
hang near the apartment windows. I got worried and called him.”
“Why didn’t you dial nine-one-one?”
Val speared her with his eyes. “I’m a
dancer with the NYBT. Detective Preston is investigating the murders of
dancers. He was my first thought. Is there a problem with that?”
“Of course not.” She turned to the male
officers. “Check the tree and the area around it. The apartment window from the
outside also, although we may have to come back with a ladder. I’ll look at it
from in here.”
“No, thank you, Officer. I will.”

 

Oh, man,
was Andrew a sight to make a scared dancer’s heart go pitty-pat. 

 

Is that
light?
Val opened an eye and frowned at the sliver of brightness seeping
around his closed blinds. What the fuck
time is it? Am I late for rehearsal?
Jesus, he never slept like this. A
lifetime of living with different relatives and in ballet school with all kinds
of people had turned him into a light sleeper.
Wait. No weight
on his back. No soft breathing. He’d heard breath earlier—hadn’t he? He sat up,
the covers falling to his hips.
Across the room, Andrew was pulling on his
sport coat as he watched his foot slide on a loafer, sockless.
“Leaving without saying goodbye?”
“Oh, uh, not necessarily, but you were
sleeping quite soundly.”
“Yeah, well, I was fucked into another
dimension.” He rubbed a hand over his neck.
Andrew’s cheeks turned pink.
So, hello
to the bumbling detective.
“Oddly, I slept like the dead. I usually
wake up at the sound of a leaf. I can’t imagine what got into me.”
Val grinned. “I can. What time is it?”
“Six.”
“In the morning?”
“Uh yes.”
“Holy shit! Don’t I remember something
about a day off for you?”
“No, that was a night off. Night’s over.”
Val raised his legs and hugged his knees,
the sheet covering them. “So, apparently, is your liaison with my ass.”
“I have to get to work.”
Val flipped the sheet off his lap to
reveal a very upright example of morning erection. “That’s exactly what I was
thinking.” He bared his teeth in his snarkiest grin.
“An impressive invitation.” That produced
a small smile.
“A national characteristic. Us Finns are
well endowed. It’s scientific fact.” Val eyed the proper law enforcement
officer in front of him. “What’s your excuse?”
Another blush. “Well, my father was known
as a horse’s ass. Maybe I got the cock?”
Val fell back against his pillow and
laughed. Andrew amazed him. Funny, dry, witty—weird. “So, question.” He flipped
on his side.
“Okay.”
“In the throes last night, you on several
occasions mentioned ‘the next time’. Is there going to be one?”
“I, uh, hope so.”
“Me too.”
Andrew smiled shyly and walked toward the
door.
“Andrew?”
“Yes?”
“Who is that guy who fucked my brains out
last night?”
Wrinkles played across his forehead. “I’m
not altogether sure.”
The door opened. Gone.

 

Whew.

 

Dangerous Dancers Series

Golden Dancer 
(Dangerous Dancers Series, #1)
By Tara Lain
Available for purchase at 
 
      

 

 

About the Author

 

Tara Lain writes the Beautiful Boys of Romance in LGBT erotic romance novels that star her unique, charismatic heroes. Her first novel was published in January of 2011 and she’s now somewhere around book 32. Her best-selling novels have garnered awards for Best Series, Best Contemporary Romance, Best Paranormal Romance, Best Ménage, Best LGBT Romance, Best Gay Characters, and Tara has been named Best Writer of the Year in the LRC Awards. In her other job, Tara owns an advertising and public relations firm. She often does workshops on both author promotion and writing craft.  She lives with her soul-mate husband and her soul-mate dog near the sea in California where she sets a lot of her books.  Passionate about diversity, justice, and new experiences, Tara says on her tombstone it will say “Yes”!

 

You can find Tara at Lain
               
Presented By

Clare London’s ROMANCING THE WRONG TWIN! Giveaway!

perf4.250x7.000.inddHi and welcome!! My friend Clare London is on the blog today with her new release, Romancing the Wrong Twin! I want to read it just from the title. There’s a Rafflecopter Giveaway down there too, so read, enjoy and enter. Here’s Clare —

London’s variety show – Clare London

My new book Romancing the Wrong Twin is based in the very heart of London, around the creative location of Soho and Covent Garden. Itís an area I know well, having worked there for years, and of course I love London! How could I not, with my pen name? LOL. But itís also the most perfect place to set romance stories. Thereís the fabulously bustling city life, a wide variety of businesses and entertainment going on ñ and, of course, a wonderful variety of people.

Did you know, the population of London increases by over 5000% during the day? Itís a world that is crowded, noisy and exhilarating during the day, then at night the population shrinks back down to its core inhabitants. The city encompasses over 270 nationalities, over 16 thousand industries, 2.6m registered cars, the biggest theatre audience in the world, and is the second most-visited city after Hong King.

Itís a place full of mystery and discovery too: Underneath Cleopatraís Needle on the Embankment thereís a time capsule from 1878 thatís said to contain cigars, a razor, a portrait of Queen Victoria, copies of 10 daily newspapers, and pictures of 12 ìEnglish beauties of the dayî. Among the many things Londoners have left on the Tube are a samurai sword, a stuffed puffer fish, a human skull, and a coffin. And apparently ñ whether itís true or urban myth – Harrods sold cocaine until 1916.

So thereís nothing unexpected in my hero Aidan, a playwright, standing in for his twin brother Zeb, a supermodel, on a date with Dominic, a mountaineer. After all, in London, anything can happen!

 
 
Blurb
 
How tangled can a romantic web get?When gruff mountaineer Dominic Hartington-George seeks sponsorship for his latest expedition, his London PA insists on a more media-friendly profileólike dating celebrity supermodel Zeb Z.Zeb canít make the date, so he asks his identical twin, Aidan, to stand in for just one evening. Aidan, a struggling playwright, shuns the limelight to the extent people donít even know Zeb has a sibling, but he reluctantly agrees.When the deception has to continue beyond the first date, Aidan fights to keep up the pretense. Dominic likes his sassy, intelligent companion, and Aidan starts falling for the forthright explorer. But how long can Aidanís conscience cope as confusion abounds? Will coming clean as ìthe other twinî destroy the trust theyíve built?

Author Bio


Clare London took her pen name from the city where she lives, loves, and writes. A lone, brave female in a frenetic, testosterone-fuelled family home, she juggles her writing with her other day job as an accountant.


Sheís written in many genres and across many settings, with award-winning novels and short stories published both online and in print. She says she likes variety in her writing while friends say sheís just fickle, but as long as both theories spawn good fiction, sheís happy. Most of her work features male/male romance and drama with a healthy serving of physical passion, as she enjoys both reading and writing about strong, sympathetic, and sexy characters. 

Clare currently has several novels sulking at that tricky chapter three stage and plenty of other projects in mind… she just has to find out where she left them in that frenetic, testosterone-fuelled family home. 


Clare loves to hear from readers, and you can contact her here:
Website: http://www.clarelondon.com
E-mail: clarelondon11@yahoo.co.uk
Blog: www.clarelondon.com/blog
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/clarelondon
Twitter: https://twitter.com/clare_london
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/clarelondon
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/clarelondon/
Google+ : https://plus.google.com/u/0/+ClareLondon/posts


 


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Sinders and Ash and Beauty, Inc. in PRINT! Ebook contest!

sinders-and-ash-and-beauty-incHi – –

Sinders and Ash and Beauty, Inc. in PRINT! If you like print books — and fairy tale tropes — you’ve  come to the right place. Two of my popular Pennymaker Tales, the modern gay romance retellings of popular fairy tale themes, are now together in a single print volume.

If you’d like to buy this book you can get it at Amazon and Dreamspinner and B&N

I’m not going to give one away since i’m not set up to mail internationally and i want this for everyone.

SO, CONTEST!!! — i will give away one ecopy of Sinders and Ash and one ecopy of Beauty, Inc. ebook to 2 lucky winners. Okay? Not print but 2 ebooks! To win, please leave me a comment below. 

Sinders and Ash is based on the themes of Cinderella, and as you can guess, Beauty, Inc. has a Beauty and the Beast theme. The only thing uniting the two stories is the fact that they are fairy tale romances — and a single character — and i do mean character. Mr. Pennymaker appears in all the books in the series.

Excerpts!

SindersAndAsh-400x600Sinders and Ash

Housekeeper Mark Sintorella (Sinders) works diligently at a resort hotel while designing clothes anonymously, hoping to get into fashion school. Then his carefully planned life is upended with the arrival of Ashford Armitage, son of the fifth richest man in America—and the most beautiful guy Mark has ever seen. Ash must find a wife or he’ll lose his grandfather’s inheritance, and he settles on Bitsy Fanderel. But secretly Ash is gay, and the guy who cleans the fireplaces sets his heart ablaze.

 Further stirring the pot is the little elf of a man, Carstairs Pennymaker, who has Mark wearing his own designs and masquerading as a girl to impress the fashion investors in the hotel. When the clock strikes twelve, two beautiful princesses line up for the wedding—but one isn’t a woman. Will the slipper fit? Only Mr. Pennymaker knows for sure

 

Pennymaker turned and looked at Mark. “What are you working on?”

“Excuse me? I, uh, have to clean some fireplaces this morning. You know they keep the rooms cool just so they can use them? Makes work for me.”

“That’s not what I mean, of course.” Pennymaker turned back to the rack and pushed some jeans aside. “Aha!” His hand shot through the garments to the dress form. He made an opening in the clothes and stepped through to stand beside the red dress. “Perfect. Just beautiful. What a talent.”

“Excuse me?”

Pennymaker beamed at him. “You have exceptional design skills.”

God, it was hard to not be flattered. “Thank you, sir.” But how had Mr. P known to look for the dress? Who’d told him?

Pennymaker walked over to the chair and sat. It creaked. Hopefully the tiny man wouldn’t strain the old wood too much. “I would like to show that dress to some people.”

“Uh, who?”

“Let’s say some potential investors.”

No. He couldn’t get excited. “Really, sir? You’re in the clothing business?”

“I’m in many businesses, my boy.”

Okay, try not to be suspicious. “How did you know I was a clothing designer?”

The little man waved a hand. “That lovely T-shirt, of course.”

“No one told you?”

“Who would tell me?”

Had him there.

Pennymaker stepped back and surveyed the dress. “Now, who is your model?”

What? Mark cocked his head.

“Whom did you set the dress form to?”

“Oh, uh, myself. I, uh, don’t have anyone else. I’m pretty slim, so it works.”

“Perfect. Perfect. When do you have to be at work?”

This conversation was crazy. “In about an hour. This is my morning off. Unless they need me, of course.”

“Good. Put on the dress.”

“What? Why?”

“We’re going for a little walk through the hotel. You’ll be my… niece. Go on, go on.” He made a shooing gesture with his hands.

Mark shook his head. “Sir, I know I fit the dress to me, but that’s because I don’t have anyone else. I’m not a transvestite.”

“Never said you were, dear boy. But these people I want to have see the dress will be much more amenable to taking your designs seriously if they think of the idea themselves rather than me telling them. That’s how we all are, now isn’t it? I want them to see the clothes. We don’t have another model, and we don’t want anyone else in on our secret.”

Secret? “What if someone recognizes me?”

Pennymaker cocked his head. “That’s very unlikely. You do a good job making yourself plain and unmemorable with your cap and glasses.”

Mark felt the blush. Shoot. The man had him dead to rights.

“Besides, people see what they expect, and they certainly don’t expect to see Mark Sintorella in a dress. Now, put it on.”

Mark stepped behind the rack of clothing. He stripped to his boxer briefs and stopped. What the hell was he doing? He could jeopardize his job for this crazyassed little guy with his hairbrained scheme.

The voice came from the other side of the clothes. “Do you have it on?”

“Sir, I don’t mean to be rude, but are you sure about this? I really need the money I get from working here.”

“Tut-tut, my boy. Hurry. I want to make one tour around the lobby and public rooms before you start your shift. Time’s a wastin’.”

Mark pulled the dress over his head and let it fall into place. The skirt was just full enough to swing when he walked, so no one would notice his cock under it. “Uh, I don’t have any boobs.”

“Let me see.”

“See what? What I haven’t got?”

He stepped out.
Pennymaker looked at him studiously. “Gorgeous. You don’t have breasts, but then neither do some women to speak of. I’m more concerned about the hairy legs. Go shave, quickly.”

“What? Sir, I don’t think so….”

“This won’t be your only modeling assignment, I suspect, so think of it as a long-term investment. Consider that brilliant young model who used to walk the catwalks in both male and female shows. You’re at least her equal in beauty.”

“But—”

“No buts. This is your future. Now go!”

_____________________________________

Beauty,Inc-400x600Beauty, Inc.

Is beauty only skin deep?

Chemist Dr. Robert “Belle” Belleterre loves flowers, green trees, his best friend Judy, and “his baby:” the new face cream he developed to help put his father’s small cosmetics company on the map. Sadly he gets no help from his alcoholic, gambling-addicted father, who loses Belle in a poker game to Magnus Strong, the CEO of Beauty, Inc., the largest American cosmetics company—a man infamous for his scarred ugliness.

 Belle finds himself uprooted from his home, living in a wildly crazy apartment in New York owned by Mr. Pennymaker, and completely unprepared for his mad attraction to the charismatic Strong. Feeling like a traitor, Belle fights his passion only to see more and more of the goodness and humility hidden by Strong’s ugly face. But when Belle’s family starts manipulating his life again, the odds turn against happiness for beautiful Belle and his beloved beast.

“Looking for someone?”

“Yes. Judy. My friend. I thought she was coming here.”

“Oh yes. She has her apartment on the ground floor. Mr. Strong thought it would be best if she didn’t have to climb too many stairs while she’s being treated.”

Belle just stared. He felt the tears welling in his eyes but couldn’t stop them. Limb by limb, he collapsed to the floor like an old plastic bag. His own father hadn’t even paid attention, and Magnus Strong put Judy on the ground floor to keep her from having to climb stairs.

Mr. P closed the door and flopped down beside him. “So, my dear, what seems to be the trouble?”

Belle shook his head and snuffled.

“Try again.”

“I did a really bad thing.”

“What might that have been, my dear?”

He sniffed. “I humped my boss.”

“Hmm. Humped. I’m failing to get a mental image.”

Belle sighed. “It’s probably just as well. I got overzealous and threw myself on Magnus Strong. That might have been okay, but then I—” He dropped his face in his hand. “Oh God.”

“I’m starting to get an image. Continue.”

He popped his head up. “I kissed him, okay? And then, as if that wasn’t the stupidest thing ever done since W said “mission accomplished,” I managed to get my penis in contact with his and—humped. Now do you get the picture?”

Mr. P clapped his hands. “Perfect.”

“Oh, so far from perfect.” He fell back against the large Asian throw rug. “Why did I do it? Why?”

“Excellent question. Why did you do it?”

“He turns me on.”

“What?”

Belle sat up, in his best Frankenstein’s monster imitation. “He turns me on like a large neon light.”

“Because he helped your friend?”

“Way before he helped Judy. Before he helped me, in fact.”

Mr. P smiled. “So you acknowledge that he’s helped you?”

“Oh hell, Mr. P, I’m so confused. I mean, getting won in a poker game doesn’t exactly kick a relationship off on a sterling foot. Plus, that was after he seemed to be stalking me. I assumed he was trying to get me here to—you know—screw me instead of my father.”

“Ah, I see. And now you’ve thrown at him the very thing you assumed he wanted—and he refused it.”

“In a word—yes. I don’t know what to think.”

“There’s only one answer, my dear. Outside the box.”

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Remember. If you want to win one of the 2 ebooks, leave me a comment below! Thank you for visiting. : )

 

Have You Entered to WIN an Amazon $15 GC? #paranormalromance

spellcat400x600Hi!! I just want to remind you that the SPELL CAT Blog Tour is going on NOW and there are still a few days to enter to WIN an Amazon $15 GC! Just click HERE and enter on the Rafflecopter. While you’re at it, check out the excerpts from my newest re-release, Spell Cat, the first book in The Aloysius Tales. This book gets my witchy world off the ground, letting you in on some of the rules.

Here’s a teeny excerpt from Spell Cat exclusively for you —

“Witches burned at the stake!” Killian Barth looked out over the eager students who crowded the lecture hall. Okay, that got their attention. Nearly one hundred pairs of young, bright eyes stared at his face. “No one is certain how many people, mostly female, were murdered during the three-plus centuries of the witch trials that we’ll be covering in this course.”

“Jeez.” The soft voice came from somewhere near the front.

“Jeez, indeed. Sadly, they were all murdered in the name of God.”

The girl shuddered. Good for her. This might be one of the most popular classes at the university, but all his students had different reasons for being here. Some were serious historians; others were looking for titillation or an easy A. Then there were the girls who wanted to marry him or at least fuck him. What had the girl said? Jeez.

Marriage was a particularly sore subject at the moment.

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If you’d like to see more about my witchy paranormal and/or would like the buy links, please visit the book page HERE. Thank you for visiting!