Monday, December 11, 2023

#OnTheBlogToday #BookBlitz #December #GoodReads...Trust No One...#Adult #Historical #Thriller @XpressoTours @SexyNerdRevue

Trust No One
Glenn Dyer

(Conor Thorn Series, #4)
Publication date: Dec. 11, 2023
Genres: Adult, Historical, Thriller

Loyalists meant to rid their country of a double-dealing collaborator. Instead, they created a threat that could destroy Allied unity.

Algiers. Winter 1942. Conor Thorn is devastated. He’s been fired from the OSS. His wife, Emily, has been fired from MI6. They allowed their morals to bend certain truths concerning the outcome of their last mission. Forever dedicated to defeating Axis powers, these skilled operatives jump at the chance to secretly help General Eisenhower deal with a political time bomb threatening Allied harmony and to redeem their honorable standing. To recover a rumored archive holding the truth about an assassination plot, they must travel deep into perilous Axis territory.

In the crosshairs of those determined to keep the information out of Allied hands, Conor and Emily fall victim to a violent assault. Though the resulting injuries leave him severely concussed and confused, Conor refuses to stand down while his beloved ventures deeper into danger.

Can Conor and Emily piece together a political puzzle in time to keep Allied unity from fracturing?

Trust No One is the high intensity, gritty fourth book in the Conor Thorn WWII espionage series inspired by true events. If you like heart-pounding action and white-knuckled tension, then you’ll love Glenn Dyer’s thrill ride through history.

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Conor stirred. His head was pounding like the bass drum in the US Naval Academy marching band. When he opened his eyes, one person stared back at him. The facial features were out of focus, as if he were looking through cheesecloth. He blinked. The onlooker’s mouth began to flap. He sat up, but his head almost exploded. A hand pushed him back. The cheesecloth dissolved, and he could see someone smiling at him. Given the slow shake of his head, Captain Jack Waddon was not pleased to see him.

“You are one lucky bastard, Conor,” Waddon said.

Conor looked around and recognized that he was back aboard Waddon’s Consolidated PBY-5 Catalina, the ship that had taken him, Emily, and Father Sean Sullivan to Italy on their mission to snatch Ettore Majorana. “What did you say?” He could barely hear his own words. “What the hell happened?” He reached for his throbbing forehead and felt a knot the size of a billiard ball. The surface of his forehead radiated a low heat.

“You were introduced to a blackjack swung by one angry MP, that’s what happened,” Waddon said. “As far as being lucky, well, that’s because Commander Butcher saved your butt. Told the MP that he’d take it up with Colonel Eddy himself and see that you, being nonmilitary, would exit the theater as soon as he could arrange transport.”

Conor rolled over onto his right side. The two men were in the plane’s compartment forward of the waist gunner’s area and aft of the flight engineer’s compartment. He reached for the back of his head and discovered a lump where the blackjack had ambushed him. “Stevens?”

“Hauled out of there to the field hospital. Out cold. Like you were.”

Conor groaned.

“Here,” Waddon said as he handed him a damp handkerchief.

Conor spied white gauze peeking out from under Waddon’s left sleeve. Waddon had been wounded three weeks prior when his PBY approached the beach near Anzio to exfiltrate Conor, Emily, Sean Sullivan, and Ettore Majorana.

“How’s the arm?”

Waddon waved off the question. “On the mend. Already back in the left seat.”

Conor nodded, then held up the handkerchief. “What’s this for?”

“Your ear. There’s some dried blood. Stevens must have landed at least one blow.”

Conor took the handkerchief and dabbed at his right ear, loosening some dried flakes but also coming away with some fresh blood. The bass drummer in his head pounded away. His head had seen better days.

“So you dragged my ass here after Butcher saved it?”

“Yep. Me and DiLazzaro. We thought you had some lead bars in your pockets. You were a load getting you in here.” Seaman Eugene DiLazzaro was one of Waddon’s crew and had wound up part of Conor’s team that went ashore at Anzio. The New Jersey–born Italian American had handled himself like a pro, particularly when the shooting started.

Conor’s stomach roiled. Bile crept upward. A mixture of oil, perspiration, fuel, and grease hung in the air, fanning the flames of his nausea. “Jack, do you have a bucket? I don’t feel too good.”

“Conor, don’t you lose it in my ship,” Waddon said, scurrying forward in search of something to keep his Catalina puke-free. Conor wondered what did the most damage: the blow to the back of his head from the blackjack or the oak bar that gave no quarter when his head collided with it. Waddon returned with a collapsible canvas bucket and shoved it into Conor’s hands. “Here, and don’t miss.”

Conor leaned over the side of the bunk and let loose a stream of vomit that filled the bottom two inches of the bucket. When he finally felt he had no more to give, he handed it to Waddon and lay back. “So you just happened to be in the area when the action started?”

“Hey, I was thirsty.” Waddon went aft and tossed the bucket’s contents out through the open starboard-side blister. He returned and sat across from Conor on the port-side bunk. “When I approached the bar’s entrance, I saw Butcher coming from the other direction. We were about ten feet from the bar when we heard a massive crash. That must have been Stevens doing a back flop on the backbar. Two MPs were already there. We saw one lower the boom from just inside the doorway. We both cringed when your head hit the bar.”

“Well, thanks for the sympathetic cringes. Then what?”

“I already told you. Don’t you remember?”

Conor shook his head and felt the pain surge as if his brain were bouncing around inside his skull.

“Like I said, Butcher jumped in, threw Ike’s name around a bit, and eventually, the MPs backed down. He told them to get Stevens to the field hospital and told me to take care of you, but not to go far. That he needed to see you when you got put back together. He wanted me to get this to you.” Waddon handed over a note.

Conor unfolded the paper. It was short and sweet. He folded the note and put it in his pants pocket, then settled back to let the whitecaps in his stomach calm down.

“Well, you going to let me in on it or not?”

“He wants to know why Donovan shitcanned me.”

Author Bio:

GLENN DYER is a former commercial television executive whose career spanned over thirty-five years. That career took him to cities such as Salt Lake City, Dallas, Washington, DC, and Denver. He returned to Park City, Utah in retirement in 2013 to write full-time. He is an associate member of the International Thriller Writers, the Author’s Guild and The OSS Society. Glenn attended Villanova University and graduated from Boston University. He and his wife, Chris, have three children, all of whom live too far away. Visit his website at and follow him on Twitter @duffy_dyer and Instagram @glennduffydyer.

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#NewBlogPost #OnTour #NaughtyOrNice #December #Reading...Death Dwellers #MC #Book 1...#Contemporary #MC #Romance @SilverDaggerTours @SexyNerdRevue

Can love survive in a world of violence and betrayal?


Death Dwellers MC Book 1

by Kathryn C. Kelly

Genre: Contemporary MC Romance

Outlaw, the new president of an infamous motorcycle club, hides a horrible secret that has haunted him and thrown his club into chaos. Misled into believing her father wants her with him, Meggie flees her home life to search for him. She quickly finds herself in the middle of a dangerous world, with a handsome but tough MC President who wants her gone. Meggie unknowingly falls in love with the man who killed her father. Is love enough to conquer the treachery and peril in the Death Dweller biker club?

Winner Indie Book of the Day

1st Place CLC Book Excellence Award


Death Dwellers MC Book 2

Meggie. The beauty who tamed the biker.

She believes her future is bright. Her baby boy. the love of her man and the affection of the Death Dweller brothers fill her with contentment. Now, the only thing she wants is to have her marriage blessed in a church ceremony.

Outlaw. The bad boy who fell for the beauty.

When a new threat rides into town and puts a target on his woman's back, Christopher "Outlaw" Caldwell is forced to confront a past that has him questioning if Megan belongs with him or not. Standing in a sanctuary reciting sacred vows suddenly seems a useless exercise. He wants vengeance and blood. Love and romance have no place in a world of violence and vengeance. The more he pushes her away, the more Megan lures him in. She sees him as Christopher, but Outlaw is in his blood. Just as he always feared, the man she believes him to be and the one he is collide, risking the most important thing of all: Megan's life.

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Death Dwellers MC Legacy Generation Book 1

Sixteen-year-old CJ Caldwell struggles to live up to the reputation of his legendary father, Outlaw. He dreams of joining the Death Dwellers, but he's expected to finish high school and go to college before he can even be considered.

To make matters worse, the only girl he wants, Harley Banks, has rejected him, breaking his heart. Little does he know, she's breaking her own heart too. CJ must navigate the challenges of becoming a man, coping with heartbreak, and saving his cousin Ryan from dangerous influences.

In this gripping coming-of-age tale, CJ learns that being reckless can have serious consequences, and that sometimes, the hardest thing to do is the right thing.

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Death Dwellers MC Legacy Generation Book 2

In the gripping second installment of the Death Dweller MC’s Legacy Series, "Restless," CJ Caldwell finds himself facing more challenges and heartbreak than ever before. Still grappling with a devastating family tragedy, CJ is now also dealing with the fractured relationship between him and his once-best friend, Harley. Her erratic behavior has not only destroyed their friendship, but it also threatens to unravel other important relationships in CJ's life.

As CJ's parents struggle with their own personal issues, the weight of responsibility falls heavily on CJ's young shoulders. He must step up and take care of his siblings while navigating the complex dynamics of a broken family. But little does he know, danger lurks in the shadows, ready to pounce when he least expects it.

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Savage Suit

A Hero Club Novel


Noah Keegan lives life just as he pleases: as a scuba-dive enthusiast with a love of the finest things in life and beautiful women, as well as an art to closing deals. He’s CEO of Keegan Enterprises and has it all—looks, an Upper East Side entitlement, and savage charisma. He suffers one quirk: he’s a bit of a chauvinist. With the 20th anniversary of his mother’s death approaching, Noah wants to create a perfume in her honor. He brings in a temporary manager from another firm that has experience in the fragrance industry. Ryan Hagan sounds perfect. However, he’d wrongly assumed based on the name that Ryan was a guy. Ryan was a she who sets Noah’s blood to boiling in more ways than one.


The moment Ryan meets Noah, she realizes that every sordid, narrow-minded allegation against the infuriatingly misguided chauvinist is true! She has a lot riding on the success of this project, so there’s no way in hell she’s allowing Noah Keegan and his antiquated ideas to deter her dreams. They're stuck with each other if they want to achieve their individual goals. If only he wasn’t too sexy for his own damn good and her peace of mind, her plans would be so easy.

In her dreams, Kathryn C. Kelly is a flirtatious biker babe with the rumble of a hog between her legs and a shirtless bad boy wrapped in her arms. Kathryn and her bad ass biker boy spend their evenings tossing back great scotch (Chivas Regal) and fighting over who is better at Cards against Humanity (she is, obviously.)

In her reality, Kathryn is a native New Orleanian who has survived Hurricane Katrina and breast cancer. Now she’s hoping to survive three lively girls. While not playing Wonder Mom, Kathryn can be found putting all those dreams into the pages of her next Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club novel.

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Saturday, December 9, 2023

#NewBlogPost #BookBlitz #BooksAndBooks...Rome's Last Noble Palace...#Adult #Historical #Paranormal #Womens #Fictions @XpressoTours @SexyNerdRevue

Rome’s Last Noble Palace
Kimberly Sullivan

Publication date: Dec. 6, 2023
Genres: Adult, Historical, Paranormal, Women’s Fiction

Two women. Two different centuries. One attic room

American Isabelle Field has been shipped off to Rome to live with her aunt, Princess Elizabeth Brancaccio. Isabelle’s aunt and mother share a common goal – replicating Elizabeth’s success by marrying Isabelle off to a European nobleman.

But Rome in 1896 is on the cusp of a new century and Isabelle longs for more than a titled husband. She secretly designs costumes for Rome’s burgeoning theatre environment and dreams of opening a fashion atelier. Can she gather the courage to forge a life for herself, even if it means going against expectations?

Over a century later, doctoral candidate Sophie Nouri can’t believe her good fortune when she is selected to intern in Rome’s Near Eastern Art Museum. Even better, the position includes an attic apartment in the spectacular museum property, the Palazzo Brancaccio.

Overseeing a major exhibition is stressful, but tension alone can’t explain the disturbing nighttime presence in the deserted hallways of the grand palace – especially one no one else can sense. Almost as if a spectral being is trying to communicate with Sophie directly. Or warn her.

Goodreads / Amazon


Rome, 2018

SUNLIGHT STREAMED THROUGH the high windows, coaxing Sophie from her dreams. She cracked one eye open, groaning at the early hour on the travel alarm clock. How had she forgotten to close the shutters last night? Blame it on the jet lag of someone no longer used to international travel.

She turned her head to observe Matt’s sleeping form. His chest rose and fell in a calm, steady rhythm. A little sunlight seeping through the windows would never wake him this early. He was made of stronger stuff.

She turned back to the window, struck again by golden Roman light she’d forgotten after so many years away. Not at all like the diffused light back home. Sparrows swooped in graceful arcs across the cloudless, cerulean sky. As the sleepiness seeped from her eyes and her gaze sharpened, the bright, white blocks began to take shape. Her heart beat faster. The familiar but long-dormant sense of fear coursed through her body. She hadn’t been expecting to feel it so deeply after all these years away.

Closing her eyes, she took a calming breath and formed images of waking in her bedroom at home. The branch of the oak tree scraping the bedroom window, the twittering of the birds, the bold squirrel that peeked in her window most mornings, the creaks and groans of the old, converted farmhouse. Gradually, her heartbeat slowed, the fear seeped away. She inhaled deeply, counted to ten and exhaled.

She could do this.

She fixed a determined gaze on the grand palazzo, glittering white in the strong Mediterranean sunlight. Some of its brown shutters were open, others closed like sleepy eyes reluctant to yield to the morning light. She remembered all those useless afternoon battles against the Roman sunlight filtering heat and blinding rays into those great rooms.

At the palazzo’s upper edge, lithe young angels kneeled in rows, their flowing curls cascading down to their shoulders. Their pointed wings punctuated the cornice above, curving vines sprouted from their bodies in a riot of intricate swirls. The young angels were separated from one another by lush greenery, unrolling in a seemingly endless, elegant row. She’d always known the carving was there, but she’d never observed the details from this angle. Everything had been different from within. Despite the warmth of the early morning sun, she shivered.

Ignoring a mounting sense of dread, Sophie pushed herself up gently, careful not to rouse Matt. Sliding bare feet into beckoning slippers, she padded softly to the door, her back decisively turned to the noble home.

Author Bio:

Kimberly grew up in the suburbs of Boston and in Saratoga Springs, New York, although she now calls the Harlem neighborhood of New York City home when she’s back in the US. She studied political science and history at Cornell University and earned her MBA, with a concentration in strategy and marketing, from Bocconi University in Milan.

Afflicted with a severe case of Wanderlust, she worked in journalism and government in the US, Czech Republic and Austria, before settling down in Rome, where she works in international development, and writes fiction any chance she gets.

She is a member of the Women’s Fiction Writers Association (WFWA) and The Historical Novel Society and has published several short stories and three novels: Three Coins, Dark Blue Waves and In The Shadow of The Apennines.

After years spent living in Italy with her Italian husband and sons, she’s fluent in speaking with her hands, and she loves setting her stories in her beautiful, adoptive country.

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Friday, December 8, 2023

#NewBlogPost #BookBlitz...Legendary Warriors #Book 1...#Historical #Native #American #Romance @SilverDaggerTours @SexyNerdRevue

**Celebrate the 25th Anniversary of War Cloud’s Passion!! **

A nurse on an orphan train faces danger and soul-stirring passion

if the whispering ancestors have their way.

War Cloud’s Passion

Legendary Warriors Book 1

by Karen Kay

Genre: Historical Native American Romance

A dangerous passion.

At twenty-three, Anna Wiley is lucky. The children aboard an orphan train headed west don’t care that their nurse is too tall, too homely to be loved. They need her, and she will not rest until each one is placed in a loving home, including the last twelve bedraggled, rejected urchins clinging to her skirts.

When their train is attacked by a band of warriors bent on rescuing a kidnapped Indian boy, she doesn’t think twice about protecting the children—all the children, including the boy. Except keeping her charges safe means she must trust the formidable warrior who led the attack.

War Cloud plans to get the strong-willed white woman and her gaggle of children off his hands as soon as possible. Yet as he guides them toward civilization, he realizes there is beauty beneath Anna’s ill-fitting clothes, a strong spirit behind her sparkling green eyes.

Even as passion grows, War Cloud prepares to put her from him, and not only because of the animosity that hangs between their cultures. A centuries-old curse hangs over his ancestral line. A spell that could take her from him forever—should he dare to fall in love.

This book has been previously published.

Warning: Sensuous Romance which contains a passion that could lead to soul-stirring love, if the whispering ancestors have their way.

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Bestselling author of Native American Historical Romance, KAREN KAY is a multi-published author of romance and adventure in the Old West. She has been praised by reviewers and fans alike for bringing insights into the everyday life of the American Indian culture of the past.

As Reviewer, Suzanne Tucker, once wrote, “Ms. Kay never fails to capture the pride, the passion and the spirit of the American Indian…"

KAREN KAY's great grandmother was Choctaw, and she is adopted Blackfeet. Ms. Kay is honored to be able to write about the rich culture of a people who gave this country so much.

“With the power of romance, I hope to bring about an awareness of the American Indian’s concept of honor, and what it meant to live as free men and free women. There are some things that should never be forgotten.”

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Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

$10 Amazon

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#OnTheBlogToday #NewReleaseBlast #NaughtyOrNice #December #Reading...Shauna's Silver Swordsmith...@RABTBookTours #RABTBookTours #ShaunasSilverSwordsmith #KateHill #VampireRomance @SexyNerdRevue

Vampire Romance

Date Published: December 01, 2023


Daniel – Reared by the master swordsmith who taught me his craft, I've dedicated my life to forging steel. I never thought about the occult, until a foreign man with unimaginable power stops at my home and forge. He takes me to Japan where I study under an ancient swordsmith. Nothing and no one, especially a woman, can tear me away from my craft, or so I think. While visiting New York City in 1927, I meet Shauna, and everything changes.

Shauna – Working the streets with only my abusive pimp Jack to look out for me is no way to live, but I don't have much choice. When a rich weirdo takes me to a ritzy hotel and offers me a way out, I'm not sure what to do. Then he shows up at Jack's juice joint with tall, gorgeous Daniel whose mixed messages make my head spin. Can a vampire swordsmith fall in love with a former pro skirt, or is all his heat only in the forge?

 Note: Shauna's Silver Swordsmith is a short vampire romance with a stubborn hero, a resilient heroine, historical settings, some spice, violence, and a HEA.


Right now I’m between customers. I check my makeup in a cracked mirror in the ladies’ room and saunter across the main floor to see who might be lonely. I nearly pee myself when two new guys walk in. One of them is Mr. Kishida. Damn. I never thought I’d see him again.

The guy with him is enough to make a girl’s eyes fall out. If Mr. Kishida is a vampire, then this guy is one of those Greek gods. Usually older guys don’t turn me on unless they’ve got a lot of cold, hard cash, but this one—Whew. I’d do him for free.

He’s tall, though not as tall as Jack, but probably six feet or so. I’m a real good judge of men’s bodies. Hell, by now I’m an expert. His black pinstripe suit fits his broad-shouldered body perfectly. There’s no hiding the curve of muscles in his arms or the strength of his chest. It’s the kind of chest a girl could snuggle against after a long night of sex. He’s ruggedly handsome, and his sleek, ash-colored hair is randomly streaked with silver. Instead of old, he looks sophisticated.

I can’t remember the last time a guy made my heart beat faster. I’m so dead inside, or I thought I was until now.

Well, they’re not here to see me, and I’m not sure if I should just go up and talk to Mr. Kishida. Some guys get sore if you act friendly, even if you’ve seen them before.

As if reading my mind, Mr. Kishida’s gaze shifts to me. He smiles ever-so faintly and nods. I smile back. His gorgeous friend also stares at me, and I feel like I’ve been struck by lightning. Heat floods my whole body, and I resist the urge to fan myself with my hand.

I’m shoved from behind and stagger, nearly twisting my ankle in my high heels. I turn sharply to Jack.

“What’s the matter with you?” He glares at me. “Those two cats are looking for a pussy.”

Well, since Jack’s ordering me to go—

About the Author. . .

Kate Hill is a vegetarian New Englander who loves writing romantic fantasies. When she's not working on her books, Kate enjoys reading, working out, watching horror movies, and researching vampires and Viking history. She runs the Compelling Beasts Blog that is dedicated to antagonists, antiheroes, and paranormal creatures. Kate also writes as Saloni Quinby.

Visit her online at Join her newsletter at


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#CoverReveal #OnTheBlogToday #GoodReads...In Love and Death...#MM #BiAwakening #Fantasy #Romance @GayBookPromotions @SexyNerdRevue


Book Title: In Love and Death (Spellster and the Hound)

Author: Aldrea Alien

Cover Artist: Maria Arteta

Release Date: 7th Nov 2024

Genres: MM Bi-awakening Fantasy Romance

Tropes: Hurt/Comfort, Forced proximity, Forbidden love, Mage/Mage Hunter, Falling for the first time/Learning to love again, Fish out of water, Sex magic

Themes: Grief, Self-acceptance, Healthy vs toxic relationship.

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length:  270 000 words

It is part of the Spellster and the Hound series and ends on a cliffhanger.


Universal Link  | Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

In one night, he may have found the beginnings of a new one.

Still grappling with the loss of his home, Dylan has no choice but to head for Wintervale. His one solace is in travelling the same direction taken by the enemy. But the truth behind the attack on the spellster tower suggests things aren’t as clear-cut and the enemy may well be closer than they thought.

Crossing the kingdom also means remaining in the presence of Tracker, the King’s Hound who Dylan’s repressed desire refuses to let out of his head. The man’s gentle protectiveness, coupled with his flirting, certainly doesn’t help. It taunts him with ideas of the night they shared in the tower becoming something more, a thought that is no less ridiculous than remaining unleashed.

After all, it’s a hound’s job to escort or kill spellsters. They do not disobey orders. They do not falter. And they do not fall. Especially not in love.


Why? Tracker knew that question well. The memory of it lay cloaked in the gloom of the Pit, where a sallow flickering light danced upon broken and battered bodies. Even after all these years, he recalled how thickly the tang of human blood sat on his tongue. How the only sounds over his ragged breath were the moans of air escaping the dead, yet the loudest stunned silence of the witnesses screamed the loudest, echoing in his mind for years after.

The knowledge that he should’ve been the one to die that day.

A surprising outcome. That was what their mistress had called his survival. Unexpected and problematic. She had him sent away. Officially, to be trained in seduction, but he knew it was to have little hopes like love and family literally screwed out of him.

He’d learnt different lessons. Seduction, yes—difficult not to when it was a requirement to remain working in the brothel’s upper tiers—but also compassion. They couldn’t replace the family he had lost to Hunk’s betrayal, but The Gilded Lily had offered a type of kinship. Without it, he wasn’t certain he would’ve survived the first year.

And if he had died? What would it have been altered? Which lives would’ve been saved or lost? The spellster protected by an entire mercenary company? The elven woman who had spent decades feeding on the nearby village? The countless young spellsters and would-be hounds he had aided in smuggling into Dvรคrghem?

And Dylan’s fate?

He bumped the spellster’s arm with a shoulder, hoping that gentle contact was enough to get the man’s attention without startling him. “I am no priest, but if I remember my childhood teachings correctly, the gods do not control how our lives play out, they merely offer alternative paths. Everything else is our choice.”

Dylan remained silent for some time. At first, Tracker thought he hadn’t been heard, then the man spoke.

“My choices are responsible for my friends dying?”

“I did not say that and this is the last time you will speak such a lie. No choice you could possibly make would have led to what happened. That blame lies squarely on another’s shoulders.” Who had made that decision was an answer Tracker didn’t currently possess, but he was going to find out. And once he did, not a thing would stop him from dealing out the ultimate consequence. “As for why you were spared…” He inhaled, unthinkingly breathing in the scent of magic emanating from the man. The wisps of power might have died down, but that storm-cloud aroma remained a beacon regardless. “I would say your strength played no small part there.”

Dylan’s face scrunched in confusion. “My strength? I could be the strongest spellster in the world and it wouldn’t… I couldn’t…” He ran a hand through his hair, further upsetting the already messy array. “I just feel…” His breath came out in one shuddering exhale. “I don’t know what.”

“Helpless? Hopeless?”

“Like no matter how hard I try, I’m utterly useless in keeping all the terrible things from happening.”

Tracker laid a hand on Dylan’s forearm. Even through the layers of his clothes, the man’s shaking was palpable. “There was no way you could have predicted what happened. Not the ambush, not the army, not… any other outcome.”

Dylan stared down at his hands. Unformed magic danced around his fingertips like a rolling fog. “I can’t stop thinking I should’ve done more, should’ve been more, then maybe they’d be alive.”

He drew the spellster into his arms, sensing the ghosts of pure magic crackle into something tangible as Dylan stiffened in his grasp, the flash briefer than a lightning strike.

With his ear pressed to the man’s chest, he heard the man’s heart thumping at a tempo that suggested Dylan had spent the day sprinting down the road rather than the steady pace they’d taken through the forest. “I cannot tell you it will get better, that is not something anyone can judge for you. But I am here if you need me, in whatever capacity that may be.” He didn’t know if his presence alone would be enough to help, but he hoped so.

The man’s heartbeat slowly calmed as Tracker talked. Dylan sagged into the embrace, his arms awkwardly wrapping around Tracker’s shoulders, his cheek resting atop Tracker’s head. Wetness seeped into his scalp. He ignored it and tightened his grip to match Dylan’s.

It was a while before the man unwound himself. He dried his face, giving a self-conscious little chuckle. “I really have to stop crying all over you.”

About the Author . . .

Aldrea Alien is a bisexual, multi-award-winning, USA Today Bestselling Author of lgbt & fantasy romance.

Hailing from New Zealand, she lives with a menagerie of animals, most of whom are convinced they're just as human as the next person. Especially the cats! By day, they wrangle the family. By night, they write.

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#NewBlogPost #BookBlitz #GoodReads #December #Books...A Murder in Ashwood: Scandals and Secrets in the Gilded Age...#Adult #Historical #Mystery @XpressoTours @SexyNerdRevue

A Murder in Ashwood: Scandals and Secrets in the Gilded Age
Robert Brighton

(The Avenging Angel Detective Agency™ Mysteries)
Publication date: June 27, 2023
Genres: Adult, Historical, Mystery

Named BookLife Reviews “Editor’s Pick” – “Setting this series apart from other historical mysteries is Brighton’s deft hand at capturing the dishy lives of long ago … has the feel of a great cocktail party… the tangled mysteries compel … a polished, rewarding page-turner …”

“Brighton spins a tale of murder and revenge… it’s hard to resist the detailed and authentic world [he] creates … time and place are fully realized in this murder story … a fascinating period piece … – Kirkus Reviews

A lush and immersive historical award-winning mystery inspired by a ‘true crime of the century’ that shocked the world.

New Year’s Day 1902 . . . Ashwood awakens to a foul murder . . .

Buffalo, New York . . . as the remains of the great Pan-American Exposition are swept away, and the bitter memories of William McKinley’s assassination begin to fade . . . the city reels again, at the sensational murder of successful businessman Edward Miller, bludgeoned to death in his cozy den, in one of the city’s most fashionable enclaves: Ashwood.

But for all its glitz and glamor, Ashwood guards the dark secrets of its fashionable residents . . . including those of Edward’s estranged wife Alicia, her lover Arthur Pendle, and would-be detective Sarah Payne. Soon, they will all face a hurricane of courtroom drama, public outrage, and the behind-the-scenes scheming of cold and corrupt District Attorney Terence Penrose.

Meanwhile, those caught up in the most scandalous crime of a new century have reputations to protect . . . skeletons best kept hidden away in the tidy closets of trendy Ashwood . . . and plenty of reasons to keep the motive behind Edward Miller’s murder from ever seeing the light of day – a motive that only the victim and his killer knew …

Can justice be done . . . and the truth uncovered by the Avenging Angel Detective Agency . . . before a killer strikes again?

Find out in award-winning A Murder in Ashwood . . . the second novel in the Avenging Angel Detective Agency™ Mysteries from Robert Brighton, acclaimed author of The Unsealing.

It’s as much a ‘whydunit’ as a ‘whodunit’ in a page-turning story that leaves readers wanting more.

Contains three original interior scratchboard illustrations by Mark Summers.

Discover the Avenging Angel Detective Agency Mysteries…

Get your copy today!

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble


Author Bio:

Award-winning author Robert Brighton is an authority on the Gilded Age, and a great believer that the Victorian era was anything but stuffy. In his Avenging Angel Detective Agency Mysteries, Brighton exposes the turbulence of the era - its passions, dreams, and disasters - against a backdrop of careful research on the places, sights, sounds, and smells of the time.

When he is not walking the streets in the footsteps of the Avenging Angels, sniffing out unsolved mysteries, Brighton is an adventurer. He has traveled in more than 50 countries around the world, personally throwing himself into every situation his characters will face - from underground ruins to opium dens - and (so far) living to tell about it.

A graduate of the Sorbonne, Paris, Brighton is an avid student of early 20th Century history and literature, an ardent and relentless investigator, and an admirer of Emily Dickinson and Jim Morrison. He lives in Virginia with his wife and their two cats.

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#OnTheBlogToday #ReleaseBlitz #NaughtOrNice #December #Books...Bad at Being Good...#Contemporary #MM #Romance #NA @GayBookPromotions @SexyNerdRevue


Book Title: Bad at Being Good

Author: A.L. Morrow

Publisher: SourGirl Books

Cover Artist: Morningstar Ashley Designs

Release Date: November 28, 2023

Genre: Contemporary M/M romance, new adult

Tropes: brother’s best friend, friends to lovers, first love, bad boy

Themes: coping with grief, forgiveness, hurt/comfort, found family

Heat Rating: 4 flames  

Length:  73 000 words

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Available on Amazon, Kobo, Apple Books, B&N, and Smashwords


But that was before.

Before we went away to college. Before Kellan died. Before I flunked out of school.

Now, I’m back home, and Milo’s different. He’s quieter and colder, no longer a boy but a man. And that hurt in his eyes? I put it there the night I failed to save Kellan. I have a lot to make up for. Falling for Milo, no matter how much I want him, would be one more thing to add to my list.

But promises are meant to be broken, and if there’s one thing I’m bad at, it’s being good.

Bad at Being Good is a best friend’s brother/brother’s best friend (dual POV) M/M romance featuring hurt/comfort, found family, coping with grief, and—of course—a happily ever after. Readers are advised to check the Author’s Note for content sensitivities.


“I’m sorry for your loss.”

I ignore the next person who tries to talk to me, exactly like I did the last. Dad’s eyes bore into me. When there’s a break in the people approaching, he steps closer and leans over my shoulder.

“Milo, stand up,” he scolds. “These people are here to support us. Snubbing them is rude.”

Mom comes between us immediately. She places her hand on Dad’s arm, but her gaze is warm when it turns toward me. “David, leave him alone. He’s going through enough right now. He shouldn’t have to worry about other people, too.”

At least Mom gets it.

Dad frowns but stands straight again. Sighing, he looks out across the church.

Then, he scowls.

“I can’t believe that piece of shit showed up.”

I glance over my shoulder in the direction of his stare, and I see him.

“Benji?” I whisper.

Our eyes lock, and I can barely breathe.

He came. I texted him the other night to make sure he knew about the arrangements, but he never replied. Still, he’s here, standing way in the back where people light votive candles. His hands are shoved in his pockets. He’s dressed in black. And although he’ll always be my idea of gorgeous, right now he looks like hell. Gauze is stuffed up his nostrils, and a bandage covers his nose. His bottom lip is split, and he’s got stitches by his hairline and bruises on his cheeks. My dad really did a number on him.

“How did he even find out about the service?” Dad grumbles.

Because I told him. I knew you wouldn’t, so I did.

“David, let it go. He was Kellan’s best friend. He has every right to be here.” Mom hooks her arm through Dad’s and takes his hand, holding him back before we have a repeat performance of their fight in the ER.

But she doesn’t stop me.

I’m on my feet, making my way to the back of the church before the next note on the organ plays. Unfortunately, Benji moves just as quickly. He beelines toward the door, knowing he’s been spotted.

“Benji, wait!” I call.

Dad’s voice echoes behind me. “Milo, get back here. They’re about to start. Milo!”

Fuck that. Kellan would want Benji to feel welcome. He’d want him to know he doesn’t blame him for what happened. He’d want him to be all right.

And you know what? I want that, too.

I move faster, jogging down the aisle, taking off after him, but he has too much of a head start. The door to the church swings open. He almost knocks over one of Kellan’s former coaches, but he doesn’t excuse himself or stop.


I know he can hear me. I know he saw me. If only he would hold still for a second and give me a chance to explain, to apologize for my dad …

I follow him through the front door and make it down the front steps of the church in time to watch his Range Rover pull out of the parking lot.

“Benji …”

No, he can’t go. He can’t leave me here. I have too much to say.

He needs to know it’s not his fault.

He needs to know I love him—that I’m in love with him.

But he’s gone.

About the Author . . .

USA Today bestselling author A.L. Morrow enjoys dreaming up steamy scenes and spectacular settings—often along with a touch of magic or myth. She believes that love is love and likes reading and writing various genres of romance.

In her downtime (what’s that?), A finds delight in scouring for secondhand designer fashions. She briefly lived in a haunted mansion, once took a flight to visit Scotland for a day, and is prone to meeting minor celebrities in random hotel elevators. She resides in the eastern US.

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