cover reveal · Guest

Cover Reveal: The Experiment by Rebecca Raine

Hi, 

I’ll post the next part of My Way later, but in the meantime I wanted to share the gorgeous cover of an upcoming release: The Experiment by Rebecca Raine.

I’ve been lucky nuff to read a preview copy and will post a review on the 18th, but suffice to say, I loved it. ‘Twas such a fabulous read I could’ve finished it in one sitting, if I hadn’t had to do such pesky things as feed us…

 

Cover Reveal

COVER REVEAL

Book Title: The Experiment

Author: Rebecca Raine

Cover Artist: Bec Rivers

Release Date: Tuesday, 18 August (AEST)

Genre/s: Contemporary MM Romance

Trope/s: Friends-to-Lovers, Gay for You, First-time Gay

Themes: Friendship, Self-discovery, Self-experimentation

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 85 000 words/ approx. 210 pages

It is a standalone book.

Goodreads

 

When a single kiss calls your sexuality into question,

there’s only one sure path to a reliable answer: further research.

 

Blurb

Patrick

I like to think I know myself outside and in. As a developmental psychologist, I’ve spent years exploring the true foundations of my identity. So, when losing a bet means kissing my best friend, Logan, I already know I’m going to hate every second of it. All the relevant questions regarding my sexuality were asked and answered years ago. The results were conclusive: despite the odd same-sex attraction, I dislike being touched by men.

That is, it seems, until Logan is the man doing the touching. The intense desire aroused by his kiss contradicts all my expectations and I have no idea how to integrate the new information. Thankfully, I know exactly how to uncover the truth about myself—once and for all.

Logan

I’ve put a lot of effort into keeping Patrick out of my fantasies and in the friend-zone. Our recent lip-lock may have unleashed my feelings for him temporarily, but I’ll get them back on their platonic track in no time. Falling for a friend, especially a sexually ambivalent friend, is a one-way ticket to heartache.

But, when the unforeseen impact of our kiss inspires Patrick to conduct an experiment into the extent of his bisexuality, I can’t resist volunteering to help. If any man is going to join Patrick on his journey of self-discovery, it’s sure as hell going to be me.

 

Excerpt

“I refuse to give up,” Patrick insists. “I came here to kiss a man and I’m not leaving until I do.”

Dropping my head back, I swear at the ceiling. “Fine, but you’ll have to find him yourself. I’m done.” It was a stupid bet anyway.

“I will.” He tugs at his bottom lip with two fingers as he leans on the table, eyes intent. “I just need someone more like…” The words trail off uncertainly. “Someone like…” His head swivels and those blue eyes widen as they lock with mine. “You.”

My eyebrows make a leap for the ceiling. “What?”

“I could kiss you.” His whole body turns towards me, catching up with the insanity of his brain. “Why not? You’re hot. Guys fall all over you, and if I had a guy-type it would totally be you—obviously.”

“Obviously?” I repeat. “How is that obvious?”

He tuts. “We don’t hang out all the time because you rub me the wrong way.”

I haven’t rubbed him in any way—right or wrong. Still, the words make my stomach drop, in direct counterpoint to my cock.

“I don’t kiss straight guys,” I tell him. “You’re more trouble than your tight little virgin arses are worth.” I’ve already learned that lesson, and I don’t need a repeat.

“I’m not some random straight guy. We’ve been friends forever.”

“It’s been a year, Patrick.”

“Yeah, but it feels like forever.” He licks his lips. “I would feel comfortable doing this with you.”

My jaw drops. “It’s nice to know the thought of kissing me makes you feel so… comfortable.” I make sure to emphasise the last word, exposing it as the flaming insult it is. “It’s still not happening.”

“But—”

“Nope.” I hold up a hand to cut him off.

Releasing a breath, he slumps forward over the table. “Fine. Don’t kiss me.”

The silence isn’t comfortable this time. Actually, it’s really fucking awkward.

“I’m gonna go get us another drink,” Patrick announces, straightening from his lean. “Then I’ll kiss the hell out of the first guy who says yes, and we can call it a night.”

He doesn’t look at me as he walks away. I sure do look at him though. From the top of his brunette head all the way down to his well-formed arse. It’s not a temptation I give in to often. I wouldn’t be doing it now if he hadn’t opened his bloody mouth.

The second he suggested the stupid bet I should have known it would end badly. I didn’t even bother trying to win the game of pool. Kissing a woman would have been no big deal. I’ve done it before, back when I was a kid and I wasn’t ready for the world to know my interests lay elsewhere. At least me losing the bet wouldn’t have ended in all this drama.

Gazing out at the sea of men, I wonder who Patrick will end up kissing. Probably some arsehole who’ll try to grope him or get his grind on before the kiss is done. The idea doesn’t sit well. If anybody is going to grope my friend, it bloody well should be me.

“Fuck it,” I mutter before taking off after him. If he kisses some wanker before I get my hands on him, I’m gonna be pissed.

 

 

About the Author

Rebecca is a long-time lover of all things romance. Whether it’s a book, movie, or real life, she will always have more fun if there’s a love interest thrown into the mix. She lives in Queensland, Australia with her very own hero husband, two quirky kids and one big, black dog. Other than reading and writing books, her favourite things include loud music, enjoying a glass of wine on the patio, organising everything in existence, and spending too much time on the Internet.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website | Facebook | Facebook Author Page

Pinterest | Newsletter Sign-Up

Instagram | BookBub | Goodreads

 

 

Giveaway

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

one of five mobi copies of The Experiment

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

 

 

cover reveal · Guest

Cover Reveal – Conned by Kim Fielding

Hiya,

I’m sorry I’ve been away for a while, I took a little time out to work on some edits and catch up on a spot of reading and a few movies.  I hope that you and your loved ones have all remained safe and well.❤️

 I thought it would be lovely to return with a Guest Post rather than launch straight into some more wafflish. So here, for your delectation…is the gorgeous cover of the new MM historical paranormal mystery, ‘Conned’ by Kim Fielding:

 

Coming soon: 1st June 2020

Book 6 in The Bureau series


Blurb

World War I veteran Thomas Donne is new to San Francisco. Always a stoic man, shell shock and a lost love have nearly turned his heart to stone. No matter—a private eye has no room for softness. Almost broke, he takes on what appears to be a simple case: finding a missing young man.

As a magician and medium, Abraham Ferencz cons his audiences into believing he can cheat death and commune with their dearly departed. Although his séances are staged, the spirits are very real, and they’ve brought him almost more pain than he can bear.

When Donne’s case becomes complicated and the bodies start to pile up, he and Ferencz must fight their way through a web of trickery and lies. The truth is obscured by the San Francisco fog, and in their uncanny world, anyone can catch a bullet.

Amazon | Smashwords


Giveaway

Kim is giving away a $10 Amazon gift card AND eBook copies of The Bureau V1 and V2 to one lucky winner. For a chance to win, enter via Rafflecopter:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47121/?


Excerpt

When Abe was done with the slates, he would ordinarily have turned to the third and final act of the séance. It involved darkening the room, asking the audience to concentrate on their loved ones beyond the veil, and then operating a series of trap doors and curtains via hidden controls. Masks and gauzy drapery covered in luminescent paint would make flickering appearances. One key here was for his accomplice to have the first sighting. Rosie would gasp or scream before Abe had yet showed a prop, making everyone else eager for their own glimpses. The other key was to do this illusion after the guests had lost any lingering doubts.

It was a wonderful illusion, one that would send his guests away feeling as if their money had been well spent. But today one guest continued to have doubts, and Abe’s curiosity was too strong to resist. He decided to postpone the finale.

“Friends, I vill now move among you and see if I receive any messages from beyond.”

Rosie lifted her eyebrows, clearly surprised he was going to do a cold reading. He generally did that only during séances where he’d given the guests a brief refreshment break and Rosie had the opportunity to slip him notes about the people she’d spoken with at the beginning. It certainly hadn’t been part of today’s plan.

Nonetheless, Abe moved among the chairs with his head atilt, as if he were listening for a faint sound. He stopped in front of Rosie and closed his eyes. “Ah. I’m hearing a voice…. A woman. Mary? No. Margaret.”

Rosie gasped and clutched her chest. “My sister Meg?” she asked tremulously. “She passed five years ago from rheumatic fever.”

In fact, Rosie had two sisters—neither named Margaret and both quite alive—who she didn’t especially get along with and spoke to only infrequently. But she wobbled her chin convincingly as Abe nodded. “Yes. She says she misses you. She remembers the… the necklace you gave her for her birthday. It vas such a lovely gift, she says.”

Tears started to leak from Rosie’s eyes. Crying convincingly on cue was one of her many strengths. “She loved that little thing. We buried her in it.”

“She vants you to know that she’s very happy vhere she is now. She knows your life vill be long, but someday you shall see her again.”

“Th-thank you, Mr. France. Tell her I love her too.”

“She knows.”

Abe moved down the row to a man in his fifties, a Mr. Van Goethem. He was dressed moderately well but not richly, and his weathered face and battered hands suggested he’d once labored outdoors. He had an accent—Dutch or Belgian; Abe wasn’t certain—but it wasn’t strong, so he’d been in the United States for a long time. These observations and a general knowledge of human beings allowed Abe to make some safe guesses.

“I am hearing a woman again. She is…. I see the letter A?”

“Anna?” Mr. Van Goethem seemed confused.

“I am not sure. I believe the A is not at the beginning of her name.”

Mr. Van Goethem let out a noisy sigh. “Johanna. My mother.”

Perfect. Abe had chosen A simply because it was common in feminine names; after that, he could get the guest to lead him on the right path. “Yes, your mother. She says…. Oh.” He frowned deeply as if distressed.

“What? What does she say? Mama, I—”

Abe held up a hand to silence him. “It’s…. Oh, I see.” He bent so as to put his eyes on level with Mr. Van Goethem’s and lowered his voice as if to tell a secret. He knew his words would carry nonetheless. “She says she forgives you, sir. She knows you are a good man at heart. She is proud of you.”

Mr. Van Goethem didn’t cry, but he clamped his lips together and his throat worked. He gave a jerky nod.

This had been nothing but a guess. In Abe’s experience, nearly everyone had disappointed a parent at one point or another.

At last, heart pounding, Abe moved to the back row and came to a halt in front of Donne. Standing this close, he could see a bit of pale stubble on those broad cheeks and stubborn chin. Donne’s eyes were more fog-like than ever: opaque and chilling. The type of eyes a man could get lost in. He sat straight-backed but not tense, heavy muscles relaxed beneath his cheap suit and good shirt. But his hands—yes. They hung over the armrests and moved with the hint of a tremor.

Interesting.

Without truly intending to, knowing it might even be dangerous, Abe reached out and settled a palm on Donne’s shoulder. Although Donne flinched slightly, he didn’t strike out or move away. His jaw tightened, though, and his eyes narrowed.

The war, Abe thought. Yes. Donne was the right age for it, and his accent thick enough to suggest he’d come of age in England instead of the United States. Besides, there was something about the set of his body and the creases around his eyes. “I hear… a man,” Abe began.

And then he did.

As clear as if the person stood next to him, a voice spoke in Abe’s ear. It sounded young and sad and thin. Tommy. Oh, my darling Tommy, what have they done to you?

Abe unwillingly echoed a phrase, the words tearing his throat. “My darling Tommy.”

Donne leapt to his feet, jerking back so violently that he toppled the chair. One hand went into his coat pocket, and Abe was certain he was about to be shot. The idea didn’t frighten him, mostly because he was too deeply awash in the spirit’s sorrow. “Don’t hurt him, Tommy.” From his own mouth, but it wasn’t his accent or his voice. “Please don’t.”

The spirit… the man had been in his early twenties, perhaps. A pointed chin and sharp nose, thin mobile eyebrows, a wide mouth always a moment away from a cheeky grin. Ears that stuck out a little. Abe knew this although he couldn’t see the spirit. Just as he knew the spirit’s name. “Albert,” he said in his own voice.

Donne jerked again but held his ground. He was breathing hard.

Abe’s knees felt weak, his head swam, and Albert whispered in his head: tiny snippets and phrases that Abe couldn’t quite catch. Reaching out for a chair back to support himself, he became aware of the wide eyes and gaping mouths of his guests.

With considerable effort, he gathered his wits, giving Donne a quick apologetic glance before striding to the front of the room. He cleared his throat before falling back into his faux accent. “I am sorry, friends. Today the spirits have qvite exhausted me. I hope you have found some of the answers you sought.”

The guests seemed pleased as they gathered their coats and hats and filed toward the hallway and the door. They thanked Abe as they shook his hand. Soon only two others remained: Rosie, looking about as if perhaps she’d mislaid a glove, and Donne, towering and jut-jawed in the back of the room.

“I need to talk to you,” Donne growled.

Abe simply nodded. He took Rosie gently by the arm and led her down the hall, surreptitiously offering her five dollars at the door. She took it but paused with her hand on the knob. “Are you all right?” she whispered.

“I’m fine.”

“That was—”

“I’ll explain another time, sweetheart.”

She scrunched her mouth together. “But that big fella, he don’t look too safe.”

“Nothing worthwhile ever is. I’ll see you tomorrow, Rosie.” He gave her a gentle push out the door and locked it behind her. Then he turned and walked back to face Donne.


Author Bio

<imgsrc=”https://www.otherworldsink.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/AUTHOR-PIC-Conned.jpg” alt=”Kim Fielding” width=”600″ height=”600″ />

Kim Fielding is the bestselling, award-winning author of numerous m/m romance novels, novellas, and short stories. Like Kim herself, her work is eclectic, spanning genres such as contemporary, fantasy, paranormal, and historical. Her stories are set in alternate worlds, in 15th century Bosnia, in modern-day Oregon. Her heroes are hipster architect werewolves, housekeepers, maimed giants, and conflicted graduate students. They’re usually flawed, they often encounter terrible obstacles, but they always find love.

After having migrated back and forth across the western two-thirds of the United States, Kim calls California home. She lives there with her family, her cat, and her day job as a university professor, but escapes as often as possible via car, train, plane, or boat. This may explain why her characters often seem to be in transit as well. She dreams of traveling and writing full-time.

Author Website: http://kfieldingwrites.com

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/KFieldingWrites

Author Twitter: @KFieldingWrites

Author Instagram: @KFieldingWrites

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4105707.Kim_Fielding

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/?s=kim+fielding&search_type=authors

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Kim-Fielding/e/B006FN2T78?

LOGO - Other Worlds Ink

cover reveal · Guest

Fighting Chances: cover reveal

Cover Reveal for the Charity Anthology

❤ Fighting Chances ❤

fightingchances_ebook.jpg

Can love heal years of resentment and little hurts? And is the line between hate and love really all that thin?

In these almost 200,000 words of stories by well-loved M/M authors united by a common cause, you can find men in conflict with each other and with themselves… ready to give love a fighting chance.

Pre-order at only $2.99 –> https://smarturl.it/FightingChances

FC giveaway preorder graphic.png

For a chance to win a free copy, share
on you wall/group.
Every 50 entries, a copy will be given away!
Help make this anthology a success for children! ❤

BB buy now FC.png

 

 

cover reveal

Charity Anthology: Fighting Chances

Coming Soon:
fightingchances COVER reveal2.jpg
#AlmostACoverReveal #ImaTeaseSorryNotSorry
Are you intrigued yet…?
Tags in these enemies-to-lovers stories:
 

#contemporaryMMRomance #nerdjock #sizeDifferences #BigSmall #baker #nerd #Crossdressing #MistakenIdentity #lingerie #manties #SecondChanceRomance #biracial #closeted #alwaysaBridesmaid #SistersBestFriend #wartime #WarEnemies #Soldiers #Magic

Uncategorized

The Duke & Dandy Trilogy

Hiya,

I’ve almost finished readying the Duke & Dandy Trilogy for release. ‘Twas written as a complete novel, but 100,000 words felt a tad daunting to attempt as a first foray into self-publishing. I simply wished to have some stories available for free & on KU, so releasing it as a trilogy seemed the best way to test the waters. Both in terms of familiarizing myself with Kindle Create & also offering a snippet of something that is…a mite Marmitey.

In the intervening months I have, many times, wondered if I should try to dilute my writing. I’m not sure ‘twould be possible, even if I wanted to. Every word I write echoes the way I think, so I’d need to rewire my brain first…a feat I’ve spent too long attempting in IRL to wish it upon my inner world, too.

covers - Edited

Anyhoo…The Duke & The Dandy Trilogy, which has been revised & re-edited, is on its way. This is version I’d hope people had in their hands when they began the book.

Gay Book Promotions have kindly agreed to host a three day tour for me. Chances are, I may drop dead before then, largely on accounts of deeming it a damned fine plan to send off copies for reviewers. I fear the worst; from the dodgy formatting of those PDF’s to the contents therein. The finished book will have italics and dialogue where they should be, I promise. 😳 As ’tis a tadalot late to worry about that—or indeed, my marbles—this may well be the last blog I’ll foist upon you…

 

TRIL1