Jude (Lucky #3)

Jude (Lucky #3) by Garrett Leigh: Review by Lost in a Book

Jude (Lucky #3)

Blurb:

Isha has spent the last year watching his BFF get his happily-ever-after. He’s proud of Dom, but…it hurts to see him so free while Isha’s love life is still on lockdown. Only Isha’s ex-wife knows the secret that he’s kept caged for so long—that he’s queer too, and he’s lonely.

Jude’s too chained to his work to notice what he’s missing by being terminally single, but a new face in the village soon catches his attention. City boy Isha is gorgeous, and when he starts to haunt Jude’s reptile shop as well as the hook-up app on his phone, he’s a welcome distraction from Jude’s business problems.

For a control freak like Isha, letting Jude under his skin is an existential meltdown, but Jude’s not in the market to be anyone’s queer crisis, not when he’s facing troubles of his own. Unlocking their lives could push both men apart forever, but it might be a risk worth taking if sharing is the key to their happy future.

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4 Stars

Jude is an enjoyable addition to the Lucky series. This book can be a stand-alone, but just know that I’ve read the previous books and felt like I needed a character map for the initial introductions (which is more my fault for not remembering everyone).

Jude is all about man meets man on hook up app, they have crazy hot sex, each man goes their separate ways, and then they have a coincidental meet-up at Jude’s reptile shop when Isha comes looking for a birthday venue.

From the initial meet and coming together Isha and Jude have a connection. They don’t do much talking at first but they have awesome chemistry and Isha can give it how Jude likes it. Vice versa. Both men are surprised to run into each other at the reptile shop but they make it work and plan a birthday party for Isha’s son. Through the planning process, Isha and Jude get to know each other in and out of the bedroom. Isha has a really hard time with the growing relationship because he’s a closeted bi-sexual and terrified of others finding out. Being closeted and miscommunication causes much strife until Isha gets with the program. It takes a good long while for them to get their shit together outside of fucking and determining there is *more*.

Isha is far from winning a dad of the year award and would more likely be in the running for most Absent Dad of the Year. His kids are a big part of Jude and
I was pleasantly surprised that they aren’t annoying, act their age, and they matter. They are important to Jude and Isha really wants to improve his relationship with them. I enjoyed the secondary characters and the cameos from the previous MCs in the series. I totally appreciate that Isha’s ex-wife is portrayed as a badass and still a large part of his life not only as a friend but valued voice and mother of his children.

I’m totally digging this series and will continue on the journey. Recommended.

Copy provided for honest review.

The Stud

The Stud (It’s Just Us Here #5) by Christopher X. Sullivan: Review by Lost in a Book

The Stud (It's Just Us Here #5)

Blurb:

An asexual man is now in a sexual relationship with a male model… and is in over his head.

Chris and Mark’s relationship evolves. Both men learn to depend on the other during trying times. Chris is in the closet with his family, but Mark doesn’t add pressure and remains a solid support. Meanwhile, Mark is struggling to reconnect with his parents and older sisters and Chris is the catalyst that enables the vain male model to return home.

All good things must come to an end, and if you’ve read this far in the series, you should know that the last few chapters of this book contain the long-foreshadowed Big Fight. This self-portrait was written as a romance… but not every story gets a happy ending.

[The Stud is Book Five in a ten book series. You can read this as the mid-point of a four book arc. You should probably read the friends-to-lovers story (contained in the first three books) to understand the fullness of the characters, but this isn’t strictly necessary. Book One, Book Four and Book Eight all serve as ‘jumping in’ points for the series.

It’s Just Us Here: The Stud is a 118,000 word journey of two men connecting in a deep, spiritual way as they navigate a sexual relationship while juggling careers, friends and family.]

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5 Stars

The Stud is definitely my favorite so far on the journey of Chris and Mark in It’s just Us Here. Apparently I’m a masochist because this one hurt and I loved it. Not the pain they went through, but that it makes you feel throughout the entire book.

For most of this book, there’s a surface level feeling of happiness between the MCs. They seem to be on the same page, in love, and increasing their sexual exploration. But, lurking under the surface is pain and heartbreak evident from the very beginning. I could *feel* the decline of their relationship in the little moments; the moments that seem insignificant but have huge implications for the future.

“We had our differences and they were plain to see… and it wouldn’t be easy to work around my limitations… but it was so easy to be with Mark”

Mark and Chris are trying to please the other person at a detriment to themselves and it’s impossible to keep up without breaking. The closet scene with Mark was soooooooo sad to me. The lengths Mark is willing to go to keep Chris close when it goes against his very nature just ripped my heart out. There are so many red flags along the way that made me want to stop and scream, “WOULD YOU JUST ACTUALLY TALK TO EACH OTHER.” I don’t want lack of communication to be confused with using a misunderstanding or miscommunication trope in a romance novel. This is real life and it’s as if Chris and Mark are trying so hard to be together, be everything the other person could ever want or need, that they lose themselves in the process. They stop speaking up on the big and little things that might not always be of major importance but to them, it’s another crack in the crumbling foundation.

So sadness be damned, I loved this book. Not to worry though, there are many reminders that the overall “story” ends with a HEA. They just have to find a way to repair all these cracks or demolish the building and start over. Remember that this is a REAL story. About real men, dealing with real emotions and real life events. Definitely recommended.

Trigger- addiction, depression

Copy provided for honest review.

New Release: Waiting for Tom Hanks by Kerry Winfrey Out Now!

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Blurb:

Can a romcom-obssessed romantic finally experience the meet-cute she always dreamed of or will reality never compare to fiction, in this charming debut adult novel from Kerry Winfrey.

Annie is twenty-seven years old, single, and obsessed with romantic comedies (she and her mother watched them religiously, before her mom died). Her dating life is limited by the expectations she’s formed from these movies. She is not as open to new experiences as she might be, because she’s waiting for her Tom Hanks–i.e., a guy she’ll find in the perfect, meet-cute romantic comedy way. When Annie does finally meet her perfect match, it’s not quite in the way she expected, and she’s forced to reckon with the walls she’s built around herself over the years.

Excerpt (Chapter 4):

I blink a few times, staring straight into Drew Danforth’s face. It’s like when you’re a kid and there’s a solar eclipse, and all the teachers are like, “Don’t look directly into the sun! You’ll destroy your retinas!” but there’s always that one kid (Johnny Berger, in our class) who can’t stop staring.

In this situation, I’m Johnny Berger. And I guess Drew Danforth is the sun.

“Are you okay?” he asks again, enunciating his words even more as if me understanding him is the problem. His brown eyes, I notice, are flecked with tiny bits of gold, which is something you can’t see when you watch him on TV. His hair is just as voluminous as it seems in pictures, but in person, I have the almost overwhelming urge to touch it, to reach out and pull on that one lock of hair that hangs over his forehead.

“She’s not responding.” He turns to Chloe. “Is something wrong?”

“She’s French,” Chloe says without missing a beat. “She only speaks French.”

“I’m not French,” I say, breaking my silence. Chloe and Drew’s heads swivel to look at me.

“I’m sorry about your coat,” I whisper, then I run toward Nick’s.

Chloe bursts in the door behind me, the bell jingling in her wake. “I’m not French?” she screeches. “Those are the first words you spoke to Drew Danforth? Really?”

“Well then, why did you tell him I was French?” I shout, ignoring the curious stares of everyone working on their laptops and the calming melody of whatever Nick put on to replace the Doobies.

“I don’t know!” She throws her hands in the air. “You weren’t talking, so I thought I’d give you an interesting backstory!”

I put my hands over my face. “This is ridiculous.”

“No,” Chloe says, grabbing me by the shoulders. “This is your meet-cute, and now you need to go back out there and find him and say something that isn’t a negation of your Frenchness or an apology for destroying his probably very expensive coat.”

“Meet what?”

Nick stares at us from behind the counter, a dishtowel in his hand.

“A meet-cute,” Chloe stands up straight, shoulders back, as if she’s delivering a Romantic Comedy 101 lecture to Nick and his patrons, “is the quirky, adorable, cute way the hero and heroine of a romantic comedy meet.”

Everyone stares at her blankly.

“Or hero and hero. Or heroine and heroine. Not to be heteronormative,” she clarifies.

“Like how me and Martha met at her wedding,” Gary says.

Chloe thinks about it. “I don’t know that I would necessarily call that one a meet-cute, but sure, Gary.”

“Did you just make that up?” Nick asks, arms crossed.

I shake my head. “No. It’s a thing.”

“Watch a romantic comedy, dude,” Tobin says.

Nick rolls his eyes.

“Anyway,” Chloe continues, “Annie straight up ran into Drew Danforth and spilled a cup of coffee all over his coat, which is, like, the cutest of meets.”

“That doesn’t sound very cute,” Nick says skeptically, rubbing the scruff on his chin. “Was it still hot?”

“Scalding,” I say, sinking into my chair and resting my head on the table.

“Sounds like a meet painful,” says Gary, and a few people laugh.

“Thanks,” I mutter. “I’m so glad you all find my embarrassment entertaining.”

“Annie!” Chloe sits down across from me as a customer walks in and the rest of the shop stops paying attention to us. “This isn’t embarrassing. This is merely a story I’ll tell in my toast at your wedding to Drew.”

I lift my head to look at her. “I hate to break this to you, but I don’t think he’s my Tom Hanks. I think he’s just a famous guy with a possible third-degree burn on his chest. And now my first day on set is going to be super awkward because I accidentally assaulted the lead actor with a beverage.”

Chloe’s about to say something, but then a song starts and she closes her mouth, looking up toward the speakers. “I swear to God, I told Nick not to play any more Bon Iver. It makes people look up their exes on Instagram, not buy coffee. I’m gonna go put on some Hall and Oates.”

As she walks away, I rest my head on the table again. As if it wasn’t embarrassing enough to have my uncle get me a job on set, now I have to deal with this.

Release Blitz & Giveaway: Kiss Me Again by Garrett Leigh

 

Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK | Universal LinkExclusive to Amazon and Available to Borrow With Kindle Unlimited
 
Cover Design: Black Jazz Design
 
Length: 227 pages
 
Blurb
 

Tree surgeon Aidan Drummond is content with his own company. He works alone, and lives alone, and it doesn’t occur to him to want anything else until a life-changing accident lands him in hospital. Then a glimpse of the beautiful boy in the opposite bed changes everything.

Ludo Giordano is trapped on the ward with a bunch of old men. His mind plays tricks on him, keeping him awake. Then late one night, a new face brings a welcome distraction. Their unlikely friendship is addictive. And, like most things in Ludo’s life, temporary.

Back in the real world, Aidan’s monochrome existence is no longer enough. He craves the colour Ludo brought him, and when a chance meeting brings them back together, before long, they’re inseparable again.

But bliss comes with complications. Aidan is on the road to recovery, but Ludo has been unwell his entire life, and that’s not going to change. Aidan can kiss him as much as he likes, but if he can’t help Ludo when he needs him most, they don’t stand a chance.

“Kiss Me Again is a deliciously tender and prickly romance about the intimacy that comes with acceptance. Ludo and Aidan accept and love each other for exactly who they are—complications, injuries, mental health issues, moods—and I loved them for it.” — Roan Parish

Garrett Leigh is an award-winning British writer and book designer, currently working for Dreamspinner Press, Loose Id, Riptide Publishing, and Fox Love Press.

Garrett’s debut novel, Slide, won Best Bisexual Debut at the 2014 Rainbow Book Awards, and her polyamorous novel, Misfits was a finalist in the 2016 LAMBDA awards.

When not writing, Garrett can generally be found procrastinating on Twitter, cooking up a storm, or sitting on her behind doing as little as possible, all the while shouting at her menagerie of children and animals and attempting to tame her unruly and wonderful FOX.

Garrett is also an award winning cover artist, taking the silver medal at the Benjamin Franklin Book Awards in 2016. She designs for various publishing houses and independent authors at blackjazzdesign.com, and co-owns the specialist stock site moonstockphotography.com with renowned LGBTQA+ photographer Dan Burgess.

Website: http://www.garrettleigh.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/garrettleighauthor/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Garrett_Leigh

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Giveaway: Backlist ebook from Garrett Leigh

 

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Release Blitz: Reluctant Husband by Eliot Grayson

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Disowned, disgraced, and with nowhere to turn, Tom Drake is willing to barter anything — even himself — for a reprieve from starvation and despair. Years spent lying to protect his secrets have left him longing for someone to value him, even if it’s only for his body and the blessing of his patron goddess.

Mal Leighton’s cousin and heir is dying. Only a miracle can save him — and if a miracle doesn’t appear, Mal’s damn well going to create one. Marrying Tom for his blessing is his last desperate hope to preserve his family. And if Tom happens to be as irresistibly seductive as he is untrustworthy? Well, Mal can focus on more than one goal at a time.

Tom doesn’t fall in love, and Mal knows better than to believe he’s the exception. But when Tom’s blessing doesn’t provide the quick cure they’d hoped, it’s clear that the goddess expects them to have a marriage in more than name. To save Mal’s family and find their own happiness, they will both need to sacrifice their pride and risk their hearts.

Chapter One:

“Well, well,” drawled a voice Tom knew and detested, a voice that raised all the fine hairs on the back of his neck. Why here, goddess, why now? Tom had come to this loud, smoky gaming hell in the least fashionable part of town specifically to avoid anyone he might know. “Tom Drake, as I live and breathe. Thought you were rusticating.”

Face frozen in a rictus of a smile, Tom turned away from the faro table to face the owner of the voice, slapping his hand down over the two pitiful guineas left of the forty-three he’d had to his name when he stepped through the hell’s doors. One of the coins went flying, pinging onto the floor and immediately disappearing in the chaos of the gaming room. His chest clenched, and he barely stopped himself from diving after it.

An ill-natured chuckle drew his attention back up. “Had a bad night, Drake?” The florid, grinning face of Marcus Leighton came into focus, far too close. The Leighton family tree had more twisted branches than a hawthorn. Must it really have been this member of their gods-forsaken family to pop up where he was least wanted? “Lost more than you could afford to?”

Everything he had, in fact, and more than just money. A hysterical laugh bubbled up, and he forced it down, letting out a cough instead. “Not at all,” he said, his voice ringing distantly in his ears. “Just a trifle.”

Leighton snickered, glancing down pointedly at the death grip Tom had on his one remaining guinea. “So I suppose you wouldn’t mind buying an old school friend a brandy, eh?”

The man standing behind Leighton, until then in conversation with someone else, turned around to face them at that. “I wouldn’t drink the brandy here, Marcus. Or should I say, the dyed gin?”

And that was simply the outside of enough, the final blow to bring Tom to his metaphorical knees. His real knees, too, had he not been still sitting on the faro-table’s stool. Marcus Leighton had tormented him throughout his school days, mocking him for his enjoyment of books, his blue eyes, the way he shivered in the cold, and anything else he could think of, logical or not. His presence here, well, that was almost to be expected, given Tom’s run of ill-luck. But his cousin Malcolm, the man beside him, had never taken the trouble; far worse, he had never seemed to notice Tom at all. That Malcolm Leighton of all men should be witness to his final, degrading mortification was — beyond anything Tom could have imagined.

Malcolm Leighton’s cool, faintly amused expression didn’t alter a whit as he looked Tom up and down, examining him as one might a not terribly interesting insect. “Drake, isn’t it? Arthur Drake’s brother?”

Tom flinched, cut to the quick. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t possibly know. At that moment, Tom was certain that he did, that his blasted cousin did, that every man in the room was laughing at his ruin and whispering over his estrangement from his family.

He rose abruptly, knocking into Marcus and making the man stumble and shout; he shoved past Malcolm and blindly forced his way through the crowd, leaving curses in his wake. Too many bodies, and faces, and the nauseating smell — harsh spirits and the reek of cigars, unwashed flesh and beneath it all, the rank scent of despair rising from too many men watching their fortunes and futures disappear.

Tom reached the door at last and burst into the comparatively quiet hallway, only a few men speaking discreetly here and there, either arranging assignations or discussing their debts. He bypassed the cloakroom and rushed past the mountain of a man guarding the front door, out onto the street.

“Sir? Are you taken ill?” the servant called out after him. Tom didn’t stop. He stumbled down the side of the dingy square, tendrils of foul mist wreathing about his burning face, until he found an alcove in the side of a building where he could slump unseen and drop his head into his hands.

As he did, the last guinea slipped from his sweaty palm and tinkled away into the fog. Tom groaned and rubbed his forehead. He’d be damned if he was going to scrabble around on the filthy cobbles. He might starve for it, but no. Let some street-sweeping urchin enjoy the find of a lifetime and feed his whole family on it for months. At least then Tom would have done something of benefit to someone else, even if accidentally.

Footsteps on the cobblestones of the square roused him from his fugue, and he pressed himself back into the alcove in panic. A lamp across the square did little to illuminate his corner; he was safe enough from anyone passing by.

Except that it wasn’t just anyone, and he wasn’t just passing by.

Malcolm Leighton stopped in the opening to the square, seeming to sense Tom’s presence; his silhouette, sinister in the mist, sent a shiver down Tom’s spine. But it was unmistakably Leighton, at least to one who’d spent years studying him surreptitiously from across school assemblies. He had a certain way of holding himself, both arrogant and graceful, that had always caught and held Tom’s attention — had made it so bloody difficult for Tom to hide the feelings he had to keep out of sight at all costs. What his father might have done had he discovered Tom’s leanings toward other men hadn’t borne thinking of.

When Leighton turned, his face was in shadow, but Tom could easily imagine his expression: one corner of his mouth raised in cynical amusement, the slight lift of his thick, straight black brows, and the shrewd gleam of his dark eyes.

As he stepped closer, Tom’s body tightened, every muscle and tendon quivering with the urge to run, to fight, to take some action. He was cornered and brought to bay, quite literally and in every other way. If Leighton had followed him with violence in mind, he would find that Tom was not quite the easy pickings he had been as a schoolboy. Leighton still had an inch or two of height and the same in the breadth of his shoulders on Tom, but Tom could hold his own.

But when Leighton reached out, he held something in his hands, and his movements were slow and easy. “Your coat, Drake. They said you didn’t have a hat.”

The tension bled out of him as quickly as it had built, leaving him almost shaking from relief, from an odd disappointment, from despair and drink. “You followed me to return my coat?” Tom’s voice came out all wrong, hoarse and dry. He reached out, took the coat, felt its weight in his hands as something unfamiliar and strange, now that it had been in Leighton’s possession even for a few minutes. “And — how did you know I’d left without it?”

“Half of the city saw you fly out the door as if all of Ingard’s hounds were on your heels,” Leighton drawled. “The gossips will be whispering of Tom Drake’s sudden fit of madness, this time tomorrow.”

“As though it matters,” Tom muttered. He wished it didn’t — wished he could be truly indifferent. He unfolded his coat, hands numb and clumsy, and nearly dropped it.

“Allow me.” Leighton swept the coat away so smoothly that Tom hardly realized it was gone. “Well?” Leighton said impatiently.

Tom left off gaping at him and turned obediently to allow Leighton to help him on with it, a task he accomplished as well as any valet Tom had ever had.

None of Tom’s valets had ever lingered so long on the task of smoothing the fabric down his arms, though, nor stroked their hands over his hips afterwards. Tom jerked away and spun to face Leighton.

“What the hell are you playing at?” he snarled. “If you think I’m the kind of man to fumble in an alley —”

“I know you’re that kind of man.” Leighton pushed forward, his chest brushing Tom’s and his face close enough that Tom could feel his breath. It was warm, and sweet with fine brandy, and nearly as intoxicating as the spirits Leighton had clearly imbibed. “But I’m not one to fumble, myself. There’s a place nearby. Rooms to let, short notice and short term. I had thought to take you there.”

“You’re not taking me anywhere.” Leighton’s other meaning belatedly sank in. “And I don’t fumble, in alleys or elsewhere, you arrogant, condescending, conceited arse!”

Leighton’s broad shoulders moved slightly, an arrogant, condescending shrug if ever there was one. “Your rather checkered history says otherwise, Drake.” Amused, Leighton was amused by Tom’s misery, and it was suddenly the outside of enough.

Tom seized Leighton by the shoulders and shoved, knocking the bastard against the rough bricks of the alcove wall, and he followed the shove with his full weight, knocking Leighton back and pinning him. Leighton hit hard and let out an oof of surprise, his hat flying off and landing somewhere on the damp cobblestones of the walkway.

“Don’t.” Tom shook him once, slamming him into the wall. “Don’t you dare speak of my wife as . . . checkered history. I should thrash you for that!”

“I’d like to see you try,” Leighton said, as calmly as if they stood in a drawing room discussing the weather.

Tom had been thrashed more often than the reverse, most recently by his own brother, but he’d learned a thing or two on those occasions, most notably that one took what advantage one could and be damned to the rules. He drew back and drove his fist into Leighton’s solar plexus — or would have, if Leighton hadn’t caught his arm, ducked to the side like a damned snake, and used Tom’s own momentum to fling him face-first into the wall.

He landed just hard enough to bruise, his cheek stinging where it scraped against the bricks. Leighton’s full weight landed against his back and knocked the wind out of him. He only registered that Leighton had one arm twisted behind his back when he tried, and failed, to throw him off.

“That’s enough of that,” Leighton said, suddenly not sounding so amused. “A friendly quarrel is one thing. I draw the line at fisticuffs.”

“We’re not friends,” Tom spat. He bucked, cursed, and landed against the wall again, winded and defeated.

Leighton leaned in, slowly pressing the whole length of his tall body against Tom’s. “Certainly not,” he breathed in Tom’s ear, the warmth of it sending a contradictory shiver down his spine. “But the way you’re wriggling your arse feels very friendly indeed.”

Tom stilled abruptly; he had been moving, but surely that was just a continued attempt to loosen Leighton’s hold.

“I didn’t intend for you to stop,” Leighton said, his low, smooth voice curling around the edges of Tom’s confusion, soothing and lulling him, making everything hazy. “You have a delightful arse. It may be the only thing you have to recommend you.”

Tom’s eyes snapped open. The dull ochre of the wall filled his vision; his own rasping breaths filled his ears; all his other senses could feel nothing but Leighton, on and around him, his rich, brandied scent and the heat of his hard form.

A harsh, horrible laugh rose up in his throat, and he forced it down before it could become a sob. His arse, of all things. His one remaining possession, besides a few items of clothing he couldn’t appear before the world without and that he hadn’t thought to sell — and that was all the value Leighton could see in him. Goddess knew, perhaps that was all the value he had.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to fight the spinning of his head and the tingling in his extremities. He had to survive, didn’t he? Everything he’d done had been what he’d had to do — he’d had no choice but to make the decisions he had. They’d all come out badly. His decisions always did, and this one would surely be no different.

But tomorrow he’d be hungry; within a week, he’d be evicted from his rooms. He needed to live. And the hat he’d pawned that morning had been one of Monsieur Favreau’s masterpieces; gentlemen of higher station than Tom waited months for one made by the fellow’s own hands. Really, he probably should have sold his arse first.

A strange calm descended as he made up his mind. “Let me go,” he said. And then, because Leighton seemed the sort to want to be quite sure he’d won, he added, “Please.”

Leighton’s hand around his wrist tightened, just a trifle, and then he released it and stepped away.
Tom took his time; he pushed back from the wall slowly enough to hide the stiffness in his limbs, and he carefully flicked the dust of the bricks from the front of his clothing. His fingers brushed over a snag in the silk of his last remaining waistcoat, and he shoved down the flash of panic at that. Leighton could afford to buy him another. He took a final moment before he turned around, giving himself one deep breath before he put his mask in place.

Bankrupt, disowned, and disheveled he might be, but Tom Drake could seduce anyone.

About the Author

I’m an editor by day and a romance writer by night, at least on a good day. I’m more of a procrastinator by day and despairing eater of chocolate by night when inspiration doesn’t flow and my day-job clients are driving me to insanity. Go ahead and guess which of these is more common.

My steady childhood diet of pulp science fiction, classic tales of adventure, and romance novels surreptitiously borrowed from my grandmother eventually led me to writing; I picked up my first M/M romance a few years ago and I’ve been enjoying the genre as a reader and an author ever since.

Adam Only

Adam Only by Roe Horvat: Review by Lost in a Book

Adam Only (Those Other Books #2)

Blurb:

On stage, Adam lets his passion drive him. All his secret desires, everything nasty, dirty, and beautiful flows freely through him, for once in harmony. His soul thrives when his body moves, but only on stage. Adam’s passionate nature makes him a great dancer…and a failure at life. He’s a lonely, emotional mess. Going home with a man far out of his reach is the last thing Adam should do. Christoffer represents everything Adam isn’t: strong, independent, educated, and rich. His kind eyes, at odds with his brutish form, make Adam’s knees and restraint buckle.

Once Christoffer sees Adam dancing, he’s lost. The young man is mesmerizing, otherworldly, and unpredictable. Whatever might happen between them, it will be transient, and Christoffer will most likely get hurt. The temptation is too great, however, and the sex explosive. He might as well enjoy every moment he’s given, even if it’s just one day, maybe two. If Christoffer treads carefully, Adam might stay until Monday.

Warning: Adam Only is a gay erotic love story. It contains explicit language and sexual scenes between two consenting men. For adult readers only.

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4 Stars

Ummm….. *rubs eyes* Holy one-handed read Batman!

Just a warning, if sex in books isn’t your thing, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Adam Only is loaded with sex and very much falls into the erotic category. The sex to conversation ratio was no where near equal with sex taking the lead 9:1.

Actual footage of readers (myself included) reading Adam Only

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Christoffer sees Adam dancing at a party and is immediately captivated by his beauty and the way he moves. He stalks Adam for most of the night until he locates him and the rest is history. Let the orgasm train (unless it’s delayed for play) commence.

There’s a story along with all the sex that is woven throughout with tales of struggle, confidence, station in life, independence, fear, need, want, and understanding. Christoffer never falters in his interest of Adam and their connection is tangible. Adam is afraid to lose himself in Christoffer due to past experiences but can’t help what happens when they’re together- he can’t help letting go.

“He wanted to be owned without being shackled. He craved to be used without being punished. He needed a master, but he needed to feel free. He would lie down at his man’s feet if he could be sure he wouldn’t get stepped on.”

I really like Christoffer and Adam together. I am especially pleased that although Adam feels the immense pull to be with Christoffer and let go, he stays true to himself and his limits, wishes, and goals.

Adam Only may have been on the higher end of my sex tolerance scale… which I didn’t think I had. The sex wasn’t gratuitous and definitely had purpose in the character’s transformations. I like a little more story along with all the sex (which if this was longer that might have naturally occurred) but I still very much enjoyed Christoffer and Adam’s journey. I’m a huge fan of Roe and will continue to devour everything he writes. Recommended.

P.S. It took me a bit to put the pieces together on Adam and Christoffer but they are the couple in The Other Book that Tyler had the threesome with. These are out of sequence with Adam and Christoffer having already been in a committed relationship for a long while in that book. Adam Only tells the story of how they got to that place.

P.P.S. It’s highly suggested that this be consumed in private. Prepping an ice bath in advance will go a long way as well. You’re welcome.

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Copy provided for honest review.

 

Release Blitz & Giveaway: Adam Only by Roe Horvat- Out Now!

 

 
Length: 39,000 words
 
Cover Design: Roe Horvat
 
Publisher: Beaten Track Publishing
 
Those Other Books
 
The Other Book – Amazon US | Amazon UK | Universal Link
 

Blurb

 

On stage, Adam lets his passion drive him. All his secret desires, everything nasty, dirty, and beautiful flows freely through him, for once in harmony. His soul thrives when his body moves, but only on stage. Adam’s passionate nature makes him a great dancer…and a failure at life. He’s a lonely, emotional mess. Going home with a man far out of his reach is the last thing Adam should do. Christoffer represents everything Adam isn’t: strong, independent, educated, and rich. His kind eyes, at odds with his brutish form, make Adam’s knees and restraint buckle.

Once Christoffer sees Adam dancing, he’s lost. The young man is mesmerizing, otherworldly, and unpredictable. Whatever might happen between them, it will be transient, and Christoffer will most likely get hurt. The temptation is too great, however, and the sex explosive. He might as well enjoy every moment he’s given, even if it’s just one day, maybe two. If Christoffer treads carefully, Adam might stay until Monday.

 

Excerpt

 

He didn’t have a clue what he was doing. Why was he still here? He should leave. Now.

The house was far away from any main roads, but he could walk for a bit and then get a taxi to the nearest train station back to the city. Maybe there was a bus stop somewhere close. His thoughts sharpened—the jerking off, swim, and caffeine had cleared his brain. Determined not to waste more time daydreaming about wealthy bears who never gave a damn, he finished his coffee. He’d need to sneak back to the bathroom to get his clothes. And his phone. He shouldn’t have lingered.

He found which cabinet door in the kitchen hid the built-in dishwasher and placed the cup inside. Then he climbed the stairs on tiptoes and peeked into the bedroom. Christoffer slept on his back, snoring softly.

Adam spotted his phone on the nightstand. Christoffer must have put it on charge after Adam had fallen asleep. He wouldn’t dwell on how considerate that was. He snatched up the phone and closed himself in the bathroom.

Eying the red thong with disgust, he threw it in the trash. What had he been thinking? He dragged the jeans up his naked body, pulled on his socks and slid into the T-shirt. His jacket was downstairs. He opened the door carefully, ready to bolt without looking at the sleeping man.

Except Christoffer was now sitting on the edge of the bed, naked, staring up at Adam with sleepy eyes.

Shit.

“Hi,” Christoffer murmured. His eyes slid up and down Adam’s body, noticing the clothes. His smile turned cautious.

“Hi.” Adam shifted from foot to foot. What now?

The moment dragged on until Adam’s heart was pounding. He needed to say something, quick, and get out of there before it could get any more awkward.

“I…” he began but closed his mouth again. He couldn’t decipher Christoffer’s expression. And all that skin on display was distracting.

Christoffer braced his hands on his knees and inhaled deeply, his Goliathan shoulders lifting. “You like eggs?”

“What?”

“For breakfast.”

“Yeah,” Adam blurted before he thought of the implications. He was staying for breakfast? He wanted to. Stupid! He absolutely shouldn’t! Seeing Christoffer now, those gentle gray eyes such a contrast to his brutish form, Adam ached to stay. You stupid, horny, clingy asshole. Get out of here!

He opened his mouth to say something else, to apologize and whisper goodbye, but Christoffer was faster.

“Good. Wait for me in the kitchen. I just need to…” He gestured to the bathroom door behind Adam’s back.

“Oh. Sure.”

Adam stepped aside, quivering, and the big man stood in all his naked glory. He bent down and kissed Adam’s cheek, lingering, his breath hot by Adam’s ear. Then he disappeared into the bathroom. “I’ll be just a minute,” he threw over his shoulder before the door snapped shut.

Adam stood there, stunned, and touched his tingling cheek.

 

About the Author

 

Queer fiction author Roe Horvat was born in the post-communist wasteland of former Czechoslovakia. Equipped with a dark sense of sarcasm, Roe traveled Europe and finally settled in Sweden. He came out as transgender in 2017 and has been fabulous since. He loves Jane Austen, Douglas Adams, bad action movies, stand-up comedy, pale ale, and daiquiri, with equal passion. When not hiding in the studio doing graphics, he can be found trolling cafés in Gothenburg, writing, and people-watching.

More about the author:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/roe.horvat.98

Twitter: @roehorvat

Website: roehorvat.com

Publisher: http://www.beatentrackpublishing.com/?n1=authors&id=107

 

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New Release Blitz & Giveaway: The Color of Summer by Anna Martin

 

 
Length: 71,000 words approx.
 
 
Cover Design: Reese Dante
 
Blurb
 

Tattoo artist Max Marshall rushes into his hometown of Sweetwater, West Virginia—and is promptly pulled over for speeding. Max’s luck isn’t all bad, though, because he recognizes the deputy, Tyler Reed, Max’s childhood best friend’s older brother.

Reconnecting with Tyler helps Max settle back in, and it also leads to attraction. But when he tries to explore that connection at the grand opening of his tattoo studio—by kissing Tyler—awkwardness ensues. Max wants more, but has he misread Tyler’s signals?

As a single father raising a six-year-old daughter, Tyler doesn’t have much time to date. He’s ignored his attraction to men for years, but he can’t stop thinking about the kiss he shared with Max. If he can handle the complications of dating in a small town and the possible consequences to his career, this romance could blossom with all the colors of summer.

 
About The Author
 

Anna Martin is from a picturesque seaside village in the southwest of England and now lives in the Bristol, a city that embraces her love for the arts. After spending most of her childhood making up stories, she studied English literature at university before attempting to turn her hand as a professional writer.

Apart from being physically dependent on her laptop, Anna is enthusiastic about writing and producing local grassroots theater (especially at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, where she can be found every summer), going to visit friends in other countries, and reading anything that ís put under her nose.

Anna claims her entire career is due to the love, support, prereading, and creative ass kicking provided by her best friend Jennifer. Jennifer refuses to accept responsibility for anything Anna has written.

https://www.annamartin-fiction.com/

http://www.facebook.com/annamartinfiction

http://www.pinterest.com/annamartinficti/

http://instagram.com/missannamartin

http://www.twitter.com/missannamartin

 
 

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Cover Reveal + Giveaway: Superfan by Sarina Bowen

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BLURB:
Sometimes lady luck shakes your hand, and sometimes she smacks your face. Sometimes she does both on the same day.
Three years ago I met the most amazing woman. We were both down on our luck. Then I got that call—the one that tells you to get your buns on a plane to go meet your destiny.
But the girl was left behind. I didn’t have her phone number, and she didn’t know my real name.
While I became a professional hockey player, she became a superstar, with platinum records and legions of fans. And a slick, music producer boyfriend who treated her badly.
But fate wasn’t done with us yet. When Delilah turns up at a hockey game, I can’t resist making contact. The internet swoons when I ask her out on a date.
She might not remember me. But her jerkface ex does. He’ll do anything to keep us apart.
Good thing athletes never give up. This time I’m playing for keeps.

LINKS:
Amazon      Apple      Kobo      Nook

EXCERPT

“Would you like a beer?” the cute bartender asks me.
I glance at the pile of mint leaves on his cutting board and hesitate. “Sure,” I say. But the mint looks so fresh and pretty.
“I could make you something different.”
“Beer is great. A cold…”
“—lager,” he finishes. “No glass, no opener.”
When I look up to flash him a smile, my heart does a little somersault. Those kind eyes are smiling at me, too. “Thank you,” I whisper.
“It’s really no problem.” He turns toward the beer cooler. “You’re an easy customer, trust me.”
But I really meant—thank you for remembering. As he leans down to grab a bottle for me, I find myself admiring the strong muscles in his back. Stop it, I admonish myself. It only gets worse when he turns around and places the bottle in front of me. I’ve never seen hands like his. I didn’t even know wrists could look muscular.
Even so. Ogling him is not why I came here. I pull out my keychain opener and remove the cap from my beer.
He discards it, gives me another pleasant smile and then picks up his paring knife again.
I take a sip, wondering when he’s going to mention my show at the Coconut Club. He was there. I saw him.
He separates some mint leaves from their stems and says nothing.
I last about seventeen seconds. “Well?”
“Well?” He looks up. “Sorry?”
“Jesus lord.” I close my eyes and then open them again. This is not going how I’d hoped it would. “What did you think?”
“Of…?” His amazing eyes are studying me.
“Forget I asked.” I take a swig of beer.
“Think about what?” He pushes the cutting board aside, and his smile turns knowing.
“My set at the Coconut Club! I saw you holding up that wall in the back. Don’t lie.”
He tips his head back and lets out a sudden laugh. “I’m so busted. I loved your show, but I didn’t expect you to spot me.”
“You loved it so much you weren’t going to say anything?” The sentence sounds crazy to my own ears. I put down the beer. “You know what? Never mind. I’m just being psycho right now. This town is getting into my head.”
“Listen, girly.” He braces both (muscular!) hands on the bar and looks me right in the eye. “I loved it so much that I don’t even know what to say about it. From that moment at the beginning—when you shut that asshole’s maw? To the part where you made a lady cry.” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t look away. And I never wanted it to end.”
I give him a slow blink, just trying to take that in. It’s so much more than I was even hoping to hear.
“Shit, Delilah. If that set doesn’t win you whatever contract you’re looking for, they don’t even deserve you.”
Something warm and unfamiliar settles into the center of my belly. “That might be the nicest thing anyone ever said to me. Which only means you’re still trying to get my phone number.”
He laughs immediately. “Can’t both things be true? Both my musical assessment and my interest in your evening plans?”
“Because you know so much about music.” I flip my hair and take another sip of beer.
“Look. I don’t know shit about music. But I know plenty about talent.” He leans down on a set of forearms I shouldn’t be noticing. “I know that talent sometimes takes a nap at just the wrong moment, but it never stays asleep for long. I also know that luck matters, too. If they don’t give you what you want, it won’t be your fucking fault.”
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
But he’s not done. “I saw something else valuable the other night. You’re good in the clinch. And that counts for double, I swear to God.”
“The clinch?”
“Yeah. You’re not just good at practice.” He pauses, wrinkling up his interesting nose. “What word would a musician use? Okay—you’re not a rehearsal musician. That stage was like your home. Either that or you fake it really well. That’s going to pay your rent someday, I promise.”
“Wow.” It’s like he looked right into my terrified little soul and found the very thing I needed to hear. Those beautiful eyes of his are practically burning me right now, so I have to look away. “Thank you. Really. I really needed that pep talk.”
I make the mistake of looking up at him again, and, for a split second, I see pure yearning. It’s like our souls vibrate at exactly the same frequency. And I have no idea what to do with that.

GIVEAWAY

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Be the first to read! Three winners (US or Canada) will win early signed paperback copies of Superfan!

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Family Camp

Family Camp (Daddy Dearest #1) by Eli Easton: Review by Lost in a Book

Family Camp (Daddy Dearest, #1)

Blurb:

When Geo signs up for Family Camp, he envisions nature hikes, s’mores, and a chance to win over his recalcitrant new foster kids, Jayden and Lucy. He’s tried to become a dad for so long, and he hopes the three of them can be the family he’s always wanted. What he doesn’t anticipate is the prickly and gorgeous camp counselor who constantly comes to his rescue.

Travis spends a week every year at Camp Evermore, the camp his adoptive parents own. As a pro baseball player, his presence guarantees a full campground and excited campers. He has one rule: never, ever mess around with anyone at camp. His profession demands he stay in the closet. But one sweet and funny new dad is about to test all his resolve.

Sparks fly for Geo and Travis, and not because of the nightly campfire. Having been a foster kid himself, Travis is drawn to Geo’s sincerity and big heart and to his kids. The four of them just fit. But will this be a summer romance? Or can they find a way to be a family long after Family Camp is over?

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4 Stars

Where can I sign up for Family Camp? The premise sounds fun, the activities are right up my alley, and the scenery seems top notch with the hot AF professional baseball player… nature.

Geo signs up for camp to spend more time with his new foster kids, Jayden and Lucy and everything seems to be going wrong. The kids aren’t bonding how Geo dreamed they would and his car runs out of gas on the way to camp. He’s saved by a tall drink of water (Travis) that has the ability to be as warm as hot chocolate or as cold as ice.

Travis is on his way to his family’s camp and stops to help Geo out with a tank of gas. Travis connects with the kids right away and of course, it helps that he has an adorable dog. He’s a professional baseball player that looks forward to camp week every year and this year has the added frustration/bonus (depending on the minute) of Geo and his adorable kids.

Travis and Geo hit it off right away with a flirtatious vibe until Travis ices Geo. Once they get to camp, feelings move pretty quickly. It wasn’t insta-love but there were heart eyes and some china patterns being picked out in their head.

”Only Geo wasn’t sure it wasn’t already too late, that Travis hadn’t already claimed a piece of his bleeding heart.”

That’s after three days but I just shrugged it off because for once, I wasn’t annoyed by the not insta-love but insta-clinger scenario. It’s maybe a *tad* too sugary sweet but I like Travis and Geo together and they didn’t drive me up the wall with OTT-cheesiness. They have some chemistry and heat but there isn’t a sexfest at a *family* camp. Their hearts are in the right place and Travis sees Jayden and Lucy as the treasures they are. Travis and Geo have an itty bitty misunderstanding but after that it’s smooth sailing during camp week if you don’t count the being firmly locked in the closet bit.

Jayden and Lucy add depth to the story as they are foster kids with heartbreaking backgrounds. They give Geo a run for his money but we get to see the walls come down and the relationships built between Travis, Geo, and the kids left me all gooey inside.

Family Camp is a super sweet, low angst read where men come together, families bond, and new families are created with love, humor, and acceptance. It’s packed with feels that leave you warm and fuzzy. Recommended.

Copy provided for honest review.