Happy Thank You. 35% OFF at Dreamspinner incl Tara Lain’s New Release!

Hi — Happy and joyous Thanksgiving to all those in the U.S. and happy day to the world. As a fun gift, Dreamspinner Press has put everything in their store on sale for 35% OFF. I’ll send you over to my page but then you can explore the whole site and all the great authors. Go to the Sale HERE. (If you happen to be reading this on Nov 22, you can also get $2 off any order of $10 with the coupon code Thanksgiving 2018) 

The Sale lasts through the 26th and here’s a fun thing if you like my books. My upcoming new release, The Case of the Voracious Vintner, is included in the Sale, so you can preorder it for 35% off! Get it HERE.

Have a wonderful holiday and weekend and thank you for visiting!! : )

Its a cover reveal!! Plummet To Soar by Z.A. Maxfield!!

Hi everyone! I’m so excited to get to announce a brand new story from my dear friend and best-selling author Z.A. Maxfield! Yahooooooo!
Plummet To Soar
by Z.A. Maxfield
 
Blurb:
Feckless, luckless, and charming, Mackenzie Detweiler is the author of a self-help book one reviewer calls “the most misbegotten motivational tool since Mein Kampf.” He’s maneuvered himself into a career as a life coach, but more often than not, his advice is bad. Really bad.
It’s even getting people hurt… and Mackenzie sued.
It falls to Mackenzie’s long-suffering editor, JD Chambers, to deliver the bad news. He chooses to do so face-to-face—to see if the spark he senses between them is real when they’re together in the flesh. Unfortunately, a snowstorm, a case of nerves, a case of mistaken identity, and finally a murder get in the way of a potential enemies-to-lovers romance.
There are many, many people who have good reason to want Mackenzie dead. JD must find out which one is acting on it before it’s too late for both of them.
Release Date:
May 8, 2018
Available for pre-order at
Also available to pre-order paperback!
Excerpt

JD was pissed because he felt goddamn nothing.
Stupid for hoping that, if he embraced the worst, his fears would
go away.
Stupid for asking for more than he had when he was arguably the
richest, luckiest person he knew.
Stupid for trying out any advice he got from a dumbass like Mac,
who had turned out to be just another fucked-up human being after all—even if
he was a delightful one.
They were all lucky no one had gotten killed. Yet.
Everyone from editorial to corporate had put in a word. Plummet was going to be pulled off the shelves the following Monday. Press
releases had been written. Lawyers were on standby. And he had to tell Mac
about that too.
Sorry. I’m the man you trusted with
your career, and I’m here to pull the rug out.
It wasn’t right to keep it from him. Years back, they’d pulled a
book on canning while the author reworked the section on food safety. Those
things happened. But they wouldn’t offer Mac a chance to rewrite and rerelease.
The ideas JD had embraced so fully only alarmed them after his ludicrous brush
with death, though it had nothing to do with the book.
No. The board didn’t want anything to do with Mac anymore.
JD had argued at first. Thrown his weight around. What happened to
him didn’t result from
Plummet to Soar. All he’d
done was attend a contentious co-op board meeting. Those were a bore but not
normally dangerous. It wasn’t like he’d run with the bulls in Pamplona. No one
could have foreseen his ex catching him in the parking garage alone.
JD absently rubbed his knee. And why, when his leg was broken on
one side, did the other knee hurt so much? JD made a mental note to call his
doctor and find out.
His eyes snapped open when the water shut off. From the other side
of the door came the sound of more humming and rustling noises. Curiosity was
killing JD truly.
Killing him.
How did connecting doors in hotels work, anyway? Were there two
doors or just one? It seemed kinda old-school—a knob, a dead bolt.
Is the lock engaged?
As though it heated before his eyes, the lock seemed to glow with
some inner fire. The knob was the only thing he could focus on.
God, his leg hurt. The buzz from the fight, from the bar, was
fading. If he took a pain pill, it would knock him out too hard.
JD laid his cheek against the door and put his hand on the knob.
Nope. Nope, Nope.
Nope. The door
between their rooms felt cool. He let go of the knob, as though it would brand
him, but that was just more melodramatic bullshit. He could hear his mother’s
voice telling him to get a grip on himself. Which, really, anyone who ever met
him would have known that having a grip on himself was part of the goddamn
problem.
Try the door.
It was almost as though the door were talking to him—or was that
wishful thinking?
He wanted to try it anyway, and what was it they said about confirmation
bias? You generally fall in with the data that supports what you already
believe?
No. It wasn’t all a scam.
The doorknob turned in his hand. The door opened in his direction.
He had to step back to get out of its way. And then he was standing there,
staring at Kenzie Detweiler, who wore nothing but a towel.
He looked like a tanned monster, pieced together from scraps. His
skin, a patchwork of scars from the dozens of surgeries required after his
accident.
Christ, he was beautiful. He had a warrior’s body—lean and
weathered, hard from surfing and hiking and biking and sun. He smelled like
coconuts, as absurd there in the frozen tundra as Kenzie himself, as absurd as
a man created entirely from sunshine and disaster. It was agony to be with him
in the darkened room. But JD only had to smile to make Kenzie come to him.
Kenzie offered a small, courageous smile in return, and that was it.
They came together sloppily, with more heat than finesse. Lips
crashed, teeth clacked together, hands found purchase on skin. There was only
hair for JD to grab on to—hair or the rigid, well-defined muscles of a mature
athlete. Kenzie got hold of JD’s clothes and dragged him close, his cock
rampant, shocking both of them with the fierceness of his need.
JD fell back against the doorjamb, dizzy with lust and shock and
the utter wrongness of Kenzie kissing a man he didn’t know was
him.
He let his head fall back. “Wait—”
As soon as the word was out of JD’s mouth, Kenzie dropped his
hands and stepped away, red-faced and sweating.
“No.” Kenzie’s eyes were too bright. “Shit, shit, shit. I’m so
sorry.”
“No worries.” All JD could think about was how to get rid of the
towel. He reached for it.
“Wait.” Both hands up, Kenzie confessed. “I left the door unlocked
on purpose. I’m such a fucking dog. But the way you acted, I thought you’d want
to talk, not—”
“My fault.” JD worked to unstick his tongue. His mouth was
bone-dry, his heart racing. He was so turned on he hurt, and fuck—no way. He’d
have to tell Kenzie everything. Now. “I’m not who you think I am.”
Mac laughed. “Duh, secret squirrel. There’s no Douglas on my flight
manifest. Who the hell are you?”
“Er—” Having Kenzie’s body against his robbed him of speech, of
breath, of functional brain cells. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more
than he wanted to feel that lightly furred athletic body against his, without a
towel, without clothes, or a goddamn broken leg. He’d have to keep his boot on
if they fucked, and suddenly he felt vindicated for all those scenarios he’d
placed his anatomical drawing figurines in since puberty.
Kenzie cupped his face. His thick, hard cock proved JD’s desire
wasn’t one-sided. The contact made him squirm, and when Kenzie finally
stiffened with resolve to pull away, JD wanted to collapse at his feet and sob.
“I can’t do this.” Kenzie let him go. “I’m sorry. You have no
idea. If there were any other way, I’d totally be down. But—”
JD tried to follow him and stepped wrong. Oops. There went the
pain again, and the sweat, and his body was so confused. He was hard, he was
hurt, he was hungry too, goddammit. He wondered if taking a pill after all the
alcohol was even safe.
“Oh God, Kenzie.” He practically threw himself at Kenzie. “It’s
me. JD. Just… don’t flip out. Okay? It’s JD.”
“JD?” Kenzie pulled back, pale with shock.
He swallowed. “Er—”
This is how you do it?” Kenzie
asked. “This is how we meet? You lie to me?”
“No. Not really. My name is Douglas.
Middle name.” It was time to come clean, but it was harder than he’d thought.
“I… I had to see you. I
missed you so much.
But there’s… umm… a business problem we need to talk about.”
“My God, JD. I thought you’d been downsized or something.”
Apparently oblivious to his near nudity, he caught both of JD’s hands and
peered deeply into his eyes. “Are you all right? Jesus, you’ve got a broken
leg, and you’re probably angry with me, and I’m not even sure—”
“I’m not angry—”
“Don’t lie. You came here to give me hell. I could see it when we
met.” Kenzie glanced at JD’s leg in horror. “What did you do? Please tell me
you didn’t go skydiving or something stupid like that.”
“It’s nothing to do with Plummet.” Still in
the doorway between their rooms, still throbbing with unaccustomed lust and
shame, he waved off the question. “It was a total fluke. I was just—”
“Were you mad at me about something? Because all of a sudden you
were just—gone. Breathe with me.” Kenzie stood on tiptoe to brush their cheeks
together while they breathed in that familiar way. Count to four on the inhale.
Count to eight on the exhale, which felt so much nicer in person. A text with
the words
Breathe with me had nothing
on the feel of Kenzie’s body, flush against JD’s—the sharp angles and crisp
hair and pebbled brown flesh of his nipples. “You can tell me. Did I piss you
off somehow? I do that. Most people—”
“Oh, no.” His heart was going to break if Kenzie thought he’d been
faithless…. He pressed his forehead to Kenzie’s. “It’s nothing like that. I
was an idiot.”
Kenzie’s smile was hesitant. “Was it because I pressured you to
talk on the phone? To meet me in person? I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s not that either, Kenzie. I—”
“I felt like we really had something, JD. You and me were
Lamplighters. We were gonna light up the world. You haven’t changed your mind,
have you?”
Oh, when Kenzie said the words that way, how could he? Of course he was Kenzie’s man. #RideNDie. No choice
anymore, really. Not since he’d fallen in love.
His heart hurt. Whether it was because it wasn’t going to be easy,
or because Kenzie felt the need to ask, he didn’t know.
“It’s seems pretty cheesy, now.” JD’s turn to blush.
“Considering.”
“Waging love and peace is not cheesy,” Kenzie said softly. “It’s
more essential than ever in a frightening world. We have to be brave and strong
and uphold our principles.”
JD cleared his throat. “I didn’t have the confidence to meet you.
I’m sorry about that now. That was the one thing I did think, when”—he tapped
his boot with his crutch—“this happened. I wished I had.”
Kenzie’s smile was radiant, glowing with warmth and humor and
wickedness. “Never too late.”
“Please?” JD was taller by half a foot, and yet it was Kenzie who
wrapped him in his arms and Kenzie who bruised him with the most exciting
kisses he’d ever received. Kenzie shoved his back into the doorjamb again.
Switzerland, he guessed. Between the rooms was neither Kenzie’s nor his
territory yet.
Soon, though. Soon he’d let Kenzie roll past his borders and over
his hills and valleys. Kenzie could plant his flag on anything of JD’s he
wanted, anything in the world he asked for, everything JD had.
“Please,” he whispered again as he pressed kisses to Kenzie’s
face, his neck, and his jaw.
“On it.” In Kenzie’s impatience, he broke a belt loop pulling the
buckle loose. JD let his hands play while he memorized the mesmerizing sweep of
muscle that was Kenzie’s back—strong, tan, ripply, sure.
He was warm and alive and there. Oh God, Kenzie was right there,
and he was real, even if the plummet things were the saddest little parade JD’d
ever seen.
“Where?” Kenzie asked. “Wing chair? Bed? I’ll suck you. Where would
you be most comfortable?”
“I—”
“Fuck it.” Kenzie dropped to his knees and mouthed JD’s cock
through his boxer briefs.
“Oh—” JD’s mouth stayed in that shocked, round O of perfection
that is the surprise of hot breath on your dick through cotton fabric— and also
the sound of glass shattering when the curtains blow in, along with a massive
gust of wind and snow.
Boom, crack, crack, crack. Kenzie’s
paper cutout flew across the room—head full of holes and smoking—to land on the
bed.

 

About The Author
Z. A. Maxfield started writing in 2007 on a dare from her children and never looked back.  Pathologically disorganized, and perennially optimistic, she writes as much as she can, reads as much as she dares, and enjoys her time with family and friends. Three things reverberate throughout all her stories: Unconditional love, redemption, and the belief that miracles happen when we least expect them.
If anyone asks her how a wife and mother of four can find time for a writing career, she’ll answer, “It’s amazing what you can accomplish if you give up housework.”
Readers can visit ZAM at her

 

Presented by

 

Release Day & Giveaway: Bleu Balls! #BallsToTheWall #IdenticalTwins

Blog Tour Stops
January 9, 2018 
Stories That Make You Smile
Buffy’s Ramblings
January 10, 2018 
Love Bytes
V’s Reads
January 11, 2018 
Bayou Book Junkie
BookwormBridgette’s World
Book Lovers 4Ever
January 12, 2018 
My Fiction Nook
Identical twins. Unique love stories. 

 Hi! I’m very excited to introduce you to my new novel, Bleu Balls! Bleu Balls is the story of the identical McMillan twins and is the first full length romance novel in the Balls to the Wall series. It’s a complex story, with both brothers getting their HEA. Like all the Balls to the Wall books, it stands alone, so if you want to plunge into the series here, feel free. I hope you love my Double Trouble twins and want to join them on their adventures trading places and finding love.  : )

Bleu Balls
(Balls to the Wall Series #7)
By Tara Lain

Blurb:
Double trouble. The McMillan twins, Robin and Bobby, are renowned for their talents—both as fine artists and for thrilling the various men who catch their eyes. As different in style and personality as their DNA is identical, they’re nonetheless best friends who divide and conquer, with Robin doing the serious painting and Bobby adding the sunny salesmanship.But when their most important client decides Bobby must wield the paintbrush, the brothers revert to childhood tactics and switch places. Then along comes Micah, a handsome doctor who’s attracted to Bobby but invites Robin out to try to please his homophobic brother, and Paolo, the pain-in-the-butt client who thinks he’s wooing Bobby when he’s actually after Robin. Paolo harbors his own hidden pain that weirdly intersects with Robin’s, but pride and privacy conspire to produce what will either be a masterpiece—or end up as Dogs Playing Poker.
 
Available for purchase at
Also Available in Paperback
Excerpts

 

“Hey, gorgeous, want to dance?”
Bobby looked up at the attractive guy who’d been
eyeing him for the last hour. “Oh, I don’t know—”
“Come on, Bobby, go. Go!” Rodney pushed Bobby out
of the chair.
He smiled, but it took some effort. “Okay, so I
guess yes.” He followed the man’s trim ass in nice summer-wool slacks toward
the tiny dance floor in the lounge at the Rose. Jerry and his honey, Mick, were
already dancing. The two big firefighters took up more than their share of the
available boogie space, but they looked so happy it made Bobby tear up.
The guy turned and pulled Bobby into his arms.
Clearly he intended to lead. Okay with
me.
“I’m Aaron, by the way.” The guy had nice hazel eyes and carefully
brushed brown hair.
“Bobby.”
He started a not-very-complex box step. “You’re
an artist, aren’t you?”
“Yes, how did you know?”
“I saw you at the Sawdust. I really like your
stuff. Very unique.”
“Thank you.” Come
on, be charming.
“What do you do?”
“Stockbroker. Let me know if you need any
investment tips.”
Bobby laughed. “Believe me, artists need tips on
keeping their rent paid, although I’ll admit, we’re having a good summer.”
“We?”
“Me and my brother. We paint together.”
“Oh. Interesting. Keeping it in the—holy shit!”
Bobby looked up at Aaron and followed his line of
sight to the door—where, sure enough, Robin had just walked in. Bobby waggled
his fingers and called over the piped-in music. “Hi, dear.”
Robin waved back.
Aaron said, “But you two are identical.”
“Yes, of course. We’re the McMillan twins.”
Bobby felt Aaron react—somewhere between a jerk
and a laugh.
“What?” Bobby looked up into a face that had been
pleasant and now leered.
“Fuck, why didn’t you tell me you were Double
Trouble?”
Bobby frowned. “Was I supposed to?”
“Shit, yes. I mean, what does it take to get some
backroom action from you two? Hell, I can pay.”
“Pay?” Bobby pressed his hands against Aaron’s
chest and shoved. “Get your hands off me, you pervert.”
“What?”
Bobby turned his tail and flipped it back to the
table—but his insides rolled with anger and nausea.
Robin saw his face and sprang up. “What’s wrong?
What happened?”
“Nothing I don’t deserve. He saw you and realized
we were Double Trouble. He said he’d like to pay us.” Robin clenched his fists,
but Bobby put a hand on his arm. “You can’t blame him for getting the wrong
idea.”
“Oh? Watch me.” Robin stared pugnaciously across
the dance floor.

 

 

He uncovered the paints he’d left on his huge palette. Plastic kept
them wet so they could be used a second day.
Funny how he hadn’t minded pretending to be Bobby all that much.
The world looked different when people expected him to be nice.
Clearing his mind, he faced the wall and began to paint.
A second later—maybe more like an hour—the scaffold began to shake.
Okay, get ready to be your brother.
Paolo’s perfect face popped over the top, and he gave Robin a half
smile that reminded him of himself. Robin plastered on the huge, pearly Bobby
face. “Hiiiii!”
Paolo swung himself up and gazed at the wall. “Man, you made some
progress. But you covered over some of the light parts. Decide against them?”
Robin planted a hand on his hip. “Yes, I didn’t think it deserved
to be too sunny.”
“I like this better.”
“You would.” He arched a brow, and Paolo snorted a laugh.
“So did you get the pieces mailed?” Paolo kept staring at the
canvas.
What the hell? “Uh, yes.”
Those piercing eyes stared at Robin. “Was Robin there when you went
in?”
“Oh, yes. Yes, he was.”
“So he went to the post office?”
“Uh-huh.” Robin daubed some paint on the mural. What the hell was
Paolo talking about?
“So you sent off that coat and jacket?” Paolo stood. Robin could
feel the movement more than see it as he stared hard at the wall.
Well, shit. Coat? “Right.” Try
to look engrossed.
Strong hands clasped his shoulders, and he was physically turned.
Okay, Robin was pretty strong, but Paolo stood a good five inches taller and fifty
pounds heavier, plus Robin wasn’t fighting. Paolo gave him a narrow-eyed smile.
“I thought we could take up where we left off last night.” He leaned in and his
lips captured Robin’s with an intensity that spoke of dark bedrooms, not narrow
wooden platforms in the sky.
Do not give a shit. Those lips are heaven.
Robin dropped his brush—God knew what it did to Paolo’s $300
jeans—and wrapped his arms around Paolo so tight he could have been arrested
for kidnapping. Paolo’s tongue scoured the secret hiding places in Robin’s
mouth, and for a moment Robin forgot try to take charge. He just enjoyed and
let one leg float up Paolo’s hip. Five inches doth not a solid contact make,
but Robin humped Paolo’s thigh and pressed the heel of his hand against the big
bulge in Paolo’s pants. Oh yeah, that got a moan of enthusiasm from Mr. Hunky
Architect.
Robin slid his hands over Paolo’s hard-as-iron butt—What does he do with that thing?—and
squeezed and released. Damn, if they lay down, could they fuck here? No, no
lube or condoms. But a good blowjob could still be in order.
Robin released Paolo and started sliding to the floor. It took work
to inch down Paolo’s fly over that mighty erection, but finally he achieved
release and reached into a pair of baby blue boxer briefs to free the
inhabitant.
“My oh my.” Long, sturdy, cut, and straight as an arrow.
Paolo just breathed—really loudly.
“Mine.” Robin licked the fat head and got a slow, soft moan from
Paolo. Ah yes, encouragement. Wonder how
far Bobby went last night?
He laved the sides of the shaft, then, counting
on the element of surprise, thrust that solid eight-inch dick into his mouth
and down his throat in one smooth move.
“Holy shit!” Paolo locked his hands in Robin’s hair. Pushed and
pulled back, pushed and pulled back. Robin’s tongue reveled in the smooth
firmness of the shaft, the silk of the head, and the intrigue of secret
crevices. “Oh man. Oh.” Steadily, Paolo pushed Robin in farther and farther—then
suddenly, with a yank, he pulled Robin’s head away from his cock until he
looked down in his face.
“Why’d you make me stop? You don’t appreciate talent?” Robin
grinned.

Paolo gazed at him. “I do appreciate talent, and you’re loaded with
it on every level. What I don’t appreciate are liars, and you sure as fuck
aren’t Bobby.”

 

The Balls to the Wall Series
Volley Balls
Bk #1
Available to purchase at 
Fire Balls 
Bk #2
Available to purchase at
Beach Balls
Bk #3
Available to purchase at
Snow Balls
Bk #4
Available to purchase at

 

FAST Balls
Bk #5
Available to purchase at
High Balls
Bk #6
Available for purchase at
Prefer paperback?
The first and second book are now available in paperback! 
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

New Release, Facebook Party & Giveaway: The Watcher by Louise James!

Hi Everyone!
As the saying goes, sharing is caring, so I thought I’d share this debut release from Louise James!! Looks good, right?
Learn more about THE WATCHER below, read an excerpt and enter the giveaway!!
Would love to hear what you think of the excerpt and if you’ve read it, let us know!!

 

A classic struggle between good vs. evil! 

 

The Watcher
(The Ent Chronicles Series, Bk 1)
by Louise James
 
Blurb:
Long ago a powerful coalition of wizards and witches—The Seven—began a quest to recover hallowed grounds in the Earthling Realm. The day had arrived to claim Hailstone Hamlet! A Dark Wizard, Lord Haydron expects no one to survive the destruction, but he was wrong.
An apprentice Healer miraculously survives with no memory of what occurred but, why was she spared?
Unexpectedly, her locket opens as if by magik, and a cheery old woman speaking in a funny accent appears.
“Come for ye have I. Away from here ye must stay.
Troubles come with darkness of night; The Watcher protects and The Lantern lights.”
Ewallea assures her that she will remain by her side as they seek answers. Overwhelmed and injured, Amellea passes out only to wake in the arms of a handsome young man, riding upon the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. The Hunter believes she was spared for a purpose and their destinies are entwined. He pledges to help her locate friends and family.
The feisty beauty and her new companions find themselves on a journey of unexpected adventures to reach an enchanted forest, filled with mischievous fantastical creatures.

 

Available for purchase at

 

Join the Halloween Release Day Party!!
Click here to celebrate the release and have lots fun!

 

Excerpt

 

Chapter Two – Nymph Dreams
      Suddenly,
Amellea was all alone in a dream…or she was hallucinating again, she guessed.
No one was with her in the forest. The night was bright below a starlit sky.
The cool, crisp air was filled with a heady, hypnotic smell from flowers she
could not identify.
Startled, Amellea saw three
lights she thought must be fireflies zoom past her. The lights glowed and
circled around her until they appeared to be a single, large, glowing light. Were
those wings she saw? No, it can’t be.
She’d heard legends about fairies, but she had never seen one.
      “Legends, humph!” Then,
right out of thin air, materialized three beautiful creatures who were no doubt
Fairies, glowing as though a light followed them while casting glitter about
with each step they took. Amellea was face-to-face with real Fairies—three, to
be precise! “Amazing…”
      “Hootie-whooo,
look at you! Sisters, I think she is a beauty, even to rival our Ewa. Well, do
you have anything to say for yourself?” The surly Nymph pranced around Amellea,
inspecting her. Amellea just watched, completely dumbfounded, as the glowing
Fairy addressed her.
      “Lylahbelle,
honestly! Do not taunt the fair maiden. Can’t you see she has been hurt? She’s
had a terrible shock!” Annabelle, the dark-haired Nymph and clearly the oldest
of the three sisters, chided.
      “Merabelle
is not jealous. No, you would not even look at a Halfling sideways, even if he
is Chief Hunter and leader of the RealmWalkers.
Are you Annabelle? This one certainly does enjoy the
comforts of Maleek’s strong arms. He seems to enjoy looking at her, too. Her
hair is the color of sunset and soft as corn silk.”
Lylahbelle continued her
inspection of Amellea, touching her hair. “But…it is very tangled.”
Merabelle sensed explosive
energy radiating off Amellea. The two Nymphs looked at each other, and with a
nod, they grabbed Amellea’s arms, preventing her swing from contacting with
Lylahbelle’s face.
Amellea struggled and could
not free her arms from the delicate but very strong Nymphs. Electric sparks
snapped and crackled around them.
      “Why did
you try to hurt me…you, you, you dirty Earthling?” Lylahbelle thought.  You
will pay dearly for this indiscretion; if not today, very soon.
      “Uh-oh…we
are being summoned.” Annabelle and Merabelle released her arms and stepped
closer to Lylahbelle.
      “I don’t
think I like Fairies at all; you are rude!” Amellea stomped her foot. Annabelle
and Merabelle looked at each other, moving between the adversaries and stepping
closer to Lylahbelle.
      “Uh-oh,
this can’t be good!” Merabelle exclaimed, reaching for her sister. She could
see the volcanic tongue-lashing Lylah had planned to explode on Amellea.
      “We. Are.
Not. Peedie. Folk. Thank. You. Very. Much!” Lylahbelle screamed. “Nymphs are
who we are. I could sing you straight to your death! You silly Earthlings know
nothing of the power we wield.”
      Amellea
straightened her shoulders, rising to her full height, albeit shorter than the
Nymph. “No. I just decided. I don’t like ‘Nymphs,’ if they are as rude as you
are, Lylahbelle! Now you three get out of my ‘dream’ or ‘head’ before
I punch ‘you,’ Lylah, in the face.
You just go wherever you came from before I use some of this electricity
pouring out of my hands and zap you with it!”
Amellea wiggled her fingers,
reaching out toward the Nymph as sparks crackled from the tips. “I hope I have
this Magik gift when I am awake. It might come in handy.”
      “The
Earthlings do not know much about Magik folk. I am sure she meant no harm,
Lylah. Do not continue to provoke her now, because we have work to do. The
Watcher calls, sisters. We must not delay,” Annabelle spoke with authority and
smiled kindly at Amellea.
“We three will receive Ewa’s
ire when she finds out we visited the Earthling’s dreams. She warned us to be
on our best behavior, sisters.” Annabelle reached for her sisters’ hands,
moving a safe distance away from Amellea. The Nymphs rotated in a circle as the
clock hands moved once, then rotated in the opposite direction twice, repeating
the motion faster and faster. With each rotation, the three became smaller and
smaller until they were just tiny glowing dots. Fireflies, just like the first
time Amellea saw the Nymphs.
      “Quick! Hit
her with the dust so she will go back to sleep, thinking this was all a bad
dream. Don’t use too little dust or she will remember us when she wakes!”
cautioned Annabelle, but Lylahbelle smirked and shook her wings vigorously as
the three retreated to see the Watcher.
      “I know
just what to dust her with, sisters! I have the perfect remedy!”
Lylahbelle had no qualms
about using the strongest sleep remedy she knew to take care of Amellea. She
could be the next Sleeping Beauty. Her sisters could not blame her for taking
care of an Earthling slandering her race and attempting to harm her. No matter
if she deserved it. Ewallea would never know, unless her palsy-walsy sister,
Merabelle, spilled the beans.
“My goose is cooked.
Merabelle will spill. I better lay low for a while until this all blows over.”
Lylah had a plan.

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About The Author
 I am a creative, loquacious Southern artist who has always liked to tell a good story. After I retired as a public and collegiate art educator, I needed to reinvent myself.  Thanks to the encouragement of professionals, friends and family, and God’s amazing grace, I have found a new passion—writing fantasy and paranormal stories.
I have always been a mental traveler, reading books and physically traveling across much of the USA and Canada. I have been actively writing for three years, publishing late in 2017. It is my hope that my novels reach across generations, entertaining multiple audiences. I want my readers to escape through fantasy to mentally travel to other worlds and to find a smile, friend or foe written between the pages of the stories I write. It is my sincere hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing! –lj
You can connect with Louise James at
Presented by

5 Fun Facts About FOOL OF MAIN BEACH by Tara Lain #bluecollarromance #dogs

Hi — In only a few days, you’ll have your copy of FOOL OF MAIN BEACH in your hands. You can preorder it now HERE. I thought you might enjoy a few random facts related to this book —

  1. 1. Main Beach is the central beach in Laguna Beach, CA. On the seawall beside the sand, years who, someone painted “The Handmaid’s Tale Was Right”. I never pass the beach without thinking of that sign.
  2. 2. The title of the book, Fool of Main Beach, helped suggest the story. I liked the idea of including Fool in my naming convention, which includes Knight, Knave, Prince, and Lord. When i thought of Fool it suggested a character that people might underestimate and think was slow or even stupid. My hero Tom grew out of that idea.
  3. I knew i wanted a story for Merle Justice who was a secondary character in Prince of the Playhouse. In that book there was another character who people loved and thought might end up with Merle, but when it came time to write the story, another lover stepped up.
  4. The location of Merle’s new home that Tom is helping to build in Fool of Main Beach is just a few blocks from where i lived for 28 years.
  5. If you read many of my books, you know that a lot of them include pets, most often cats. In this Love in Laguna Series, there are cats in Knight of Ocean Avenue, Prince of the Playhouse, and Lord of a Thousand Steps. In real life, however, i have a dog and i decided it was time that the canines got their due. Tom and his beloved dogs more than make up for any previous underrepresentation by man’s best friend.

Fool of Main Beach is a favorite book of mine — and i hope it will be of yours also. Read an except HERE. And you can preorder now.

Ready for ALL WHEEL DRIVE? #ZAMaxfield #Riptide #NewRelease

Hi all –

You know i’m a huge fan of Z.A. Maxfield. She was one of my favorite authors before i met her and today i feel lucky to count her as a close friend. A particular favorite of mine is her Hell On Wheels and i’m so excited that the sequel, All Wheel Drive, has just hit the site at Riptide. I’m sure it will be at all the retail outlets soon, but you can hop over and order it now. Here’s a link —

https://riptidepublishing.com/titles/all-wheel-drive

And here’s a nibble —

 Blurb:

 Healey Holly is battered, depressed, and looking to go to ground in his childhood home. He wants to rent the garage apartment, but it’s Diego Luz’s place now, and the last thing Diego wants is to share it.

Diego is recovering too—from the accident that put him in a wheelchair and the death of his mother shortly after. The garage apartment is where he’s keeping his mother’s things, and as long as they’re up those stairs and he’s down on the ground, there’s no way he can deal with his loss.  And that’s just how he likes it.

Healey believes in science. Diego believes in luck. It will take a blend of both, and some prayer thrown in besides, for these two to learn that it’s the journey and the destination that matters.

Excerpt:

Chapter 1

Diego

The man at the door was a mess.

Diego’s first look through the peephole showed a sort of monster silhouette—a weirdly shaped humanoid dragging a wheeled duffel bag.

In the porch light’s acrid yellow glow, the very shape of him set off a boogeyman, stranger-danger skin-crawl. Ruthlessly, he suppressed any instinct for self-preservation and opened the door wide, but his visitor was just an ordinary man with a mass of healing facial wounds, one arm in a cast, and the haunted look of a recent combat veteran. Diego didn’t recognize him, but there was nothing to be scared of. Whatever had happened to him was potentially frightening, but he was only a guy.

“Can I help you?”

“I hope so. I called about the room over the garage?”

“And I told you when you called: I’m not renting it out. I need it for storage. How did you even know—”

“I’m still hoping you’ll change your mind. I grew up around here. I remember the family that used to live here, and I feel like—” The man stopped. Gathered himself. “I need a room for a little while, and if you’re only using it for storage . . .”

Sorrow limned what few features Diego could guess at behind the bandages, healing abrasions, and the shiny pink newness of burns. Dude had shaved his hair on the sides but the top was long, the result being a man-bun swirl of wavy brown hair that looked greasy. How was this guy even keeping himself clean? Despair, and something infinitely worse hung around him like a toxic cloud. Hopelessness.

Diego recognized the man’s helpless anxiety and anguish all too well.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“John Smith.”

Irritated, Diego eyed him sourly. “I take it you ain’t filling out a rental application?”

“Sure. I’ll fill one out.” It was hard to watch a smile crack those dry, scabbed lips, but it was a nice smile. A friendly smile. Dude wasn’t using it very often, obviously. “I’m thinking of taking up fiction writing as a career anyway.”

“You make it so hard to say no.”

Diego started to close the door, but that soft cast shot out, and Diego didn’t have it in him right then to add injury to . . . injury.

“You want to try and convince me some more?” Diego asked sarcastically. “You want to add you’re also a known terrorist carrying small pox?”

“Two thousand cash a month. Six months tops. It’s a room with a toilet, a sink, and a shower, right?”

“How do you know that? How’d you even get my number?”

Dude’s eyes widened. Then narrowed. “Never mind how I know. My Uber driver left me, and I’ll have to walk all the way to the nearest motel. Where is that, anyway?”

“Three thousand,” Diego countered, “and you move whatever shit’s up there down to the garage.”

“Done.” The dude frowned. “Wait. What’s up there?”

Diego shrugged. “Stuff from my mother’s place, probably. I told the company that moved me to put whatever wasn’t marked for immediate use up there. And since I can’t exactly fly up there to take a look around”—he thumped the wheels of his chair—“I don’t give a shit. Haven’t missed a thing, so whatever’s up there can’t be too important. You move it, hand me thirty Benjamins, and we’re good.”

“Yeah?”

Was that relief on his face? Diego didn’t smile back. “Trial basis. For a month.”

“Fine.”

“Too much drinking, drugging, loud sex? Not fine. Loud parties? Not fine. No one better bother me, leave trash around, or even look at me askance. No redneck music. In fact, give me your number.” He took out his phone, opened the contacts, and let his new tenant type it in. “I control all of the music around here, or you can leave right now. I can’t walk up those stairs but I can light the place on fire from below and rebuild. If you piss me off, I’ll shoot you and tell the police you frightened my permanently-seated ass, and we’ll see who they blame.”

“Askance? Is that a thing now?”

Oh, there it was again. That elusive spark of humor. “It’s always been a thing.”

“I’ll be sure not to do it.”

“All right, then. I’ll get you a key.”

“No need.” Dude reached gingerly into the pocket of his leather jacket. He pulled out a fat wad of cash and a Costco card. “That lock’s always been a piece of shit.”

Diego took the cash, counted it out. “This is only two grand.”

“I’ll get you the rest tomorrow. I’m good for it.”

Diego nodded, wheeled backward, and gave the door a shove to shut it. It banged in the dude’s face, but that was partly the wind. Dude couldn’t blame him for the wind, could he?

So. Now he had a tenant for a bit.

He could have said no.

He could have said hell no.

As soon as the dude got a look at his room, he’d probably come back down. If he caused any trouble, Diego could give back the money and boot his ass. If John Smith gave him any attitude, Diego could call the cops. But that would be a lot of bother to go through, when spending the night in a dank-ass garage apartment with no bed, no food, and a single hanging overhead lightbulb was punishment enough.

A quick look at the time told Diego he’d better call it a night. While he went through the motions getting ready for bed, the part of his brain that remembered the haunted look in his new tenant’s eyes—the part of him that recognized and responded to and acknowledged the unfairness of things and the failure of good people to alleviate human suffering in the long run—listened with half an ear for the sound of boxes being shuffled around.

The man couldn’t move things in his condition. He’d have to ask for help, at which point Diego planned to drive him to the nearest bed-and-waffle-buffet motel. Such a thing would probably cost less than the three grand he’d promised Diego anyway, and sure as fuck nobody’d be feeding him here.

Diego definitely did not think about dust or spiders or other critters. He was not imagining a room he’d never even been in but could visualize from realtor’s photos—wood-paneled walls and vinyl flooring in sickly, faded shades of brown and orange and yellow. But he’d never wanted a tenant. He hadn’t sent anyone but the movers up there after he’d come to Bluewater Bay. Hadn’t cleaned the place. Hadn’t advertised it.

It was almost a public service letting the dude get his fill of it. Returning home after a traumatic event might seem like a good thing to a guy like that. There was a lot to be said for nostalgia. But an old childhood hangout wasn’t the place for someone so physically banged-up, and he’d soon realize it.

What he needed was his family. Friends. Tribe. What he was looking for was safety. Diego could tell him that safety was an illusion, but it looked like he’d already gotten the news.

Even as he grew sleepy, Diego kept an ear tuned for unusual noises.

John Smith’d be back if he couldn’t get the door open. He’d knock if sleeping on the floor beat to hell like that was as fucked up as it sounded.

Diego drifted off to sleep wishing he was the type of guy to treat a man’s pride like it wasn’t as important as his body.

__________________

YUM! Can’t wait to read it, and to listen to it whenever it hits audio. Grab your copy and BTW, my re-release of the firefighter romance, FAST Balls is coming Thursday. Plus i have new releases of Taylor Maid in French and Cowboys Don’t Come Out in French and German coming soon.

Thanks for stopping by!

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!!

Tour Stops

March 22, 2017 
Mello & June, It’s a Book Thang!
(un)Conventional Bookviews

March 23, 2017 
Books, Dreams,Life
DirtyBooksObsession
Making it Happen

March 24, 2017 
Alpha Book Club

March 27, 2017
books are love
Obsessive Reading Disorder

March 28, 2017 
Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews

March 29, 2017
Obsessive Reading Disorder

March 30, 2017 
Love Bytes

March 31, 2017 
MM Good Book Reviews

April 3, 2017
Book Reviews & More by Kathy
Buffy’s Ramblings

April 4, 2017 
deal sharing aunt
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

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

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Knight of Ocean Avenue in Italian! Released! #gayromance #bestseller

Hi — Do you read in Italian or know someone who does? I’m excited to say that my novel Knight of Ocean Avenue has been translated into Italian and is now available as Il Cavaliere di Ocean Avenue (Storie d’amore a Laguna Vol. 1)

I’m equally happy to say that as i’m writing this, the book is #470 in the Italian Kindle store and #206 in Romance. It’s only been released a few hours so this is very encouraging.

Here’s the link to Italian Amazon  and to the book on US Amazon

Here’s the blurb in Italian —

Un libro della serie Storie d’amore a Laguna

Come si fa ad avere venticinque anni e non sapere di essere gay? È una domanda che Billy Ballew preferisce evitare. Ha lasciato presto il liceo, a malapena capace di leggere fino a quando non ha imparato come autodidatta. Con il suo lavoro da muratore ha aiutato i genitori e contribuito a far studiare le sorelle al college. Fa l’allenatore per una squadra di baseball della Little League e cerca di non pensare ai tre fidanzamenti falliti. Il terrore che prova quando deve sostenere degli esami gli impedisce di ottenere la licenza da impresario che tanto desidera, e la paura del giudizio di sua madre gli impedisce di vedere ciò che potrebbe davvero renderlo felice.

Fino a quando, durante i preparativi per il grande matrimonio della sorella, non incontra Shaz – Chase Phillips – uno stilista emergente che incarna la parola gay. Agli occhi di Shaz, Billy possiede tutto ciò che ha sempre voluto in un uomo: forza, onestà, coraggio. Ma anche se Billy fosse gay, probabilmente non riuscirebbe a sopportare lo scandalo che scaturirebbe dall’uscire con una diva come lui. Come possono due uomini con così poco in comune trovare un modo per stare assieme? Lo Stilista dell’Anno coronerà la sua storia d’amore con il Cavaliere di Ocean Avenue?

I have a lot of translated books including Knight, which is currently available in French, German and Italian as well as English. If you’d like to know the translation status for any of my books, just post a comment. :  )

Total Nonsense! Dogs Won’t Take a Bath

Hi — My new book VOLLEY BALLS releases in 2 days and i’ll share some great scenes and a contest with you, but until then, laugh at some Total Nonsense! Dogs Won’t Take a Bath. I have a papillon who runs into my office and huddles whenever my honey tries to bath her. She only weighs 91/2 lbs but i can only imagine  what it would be like if she weighed 100 like some of these dogs!

Okay, wipe your eyes and i’ll see you on the 11th for the release of Volley Balls! : )