Monday, May 23, 2022

#NewReleaseBlitz...Winning Over Harmon...#Contemporary #EroticRomance #Gay #GLBTQI #Giveaway

Winning Over Harmon by Megan Slayer

Book 3 in the Love Me Do series

Word Count:  42,193
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 169

GENRES:

CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI

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Book Description

Second chances are possible if you’re willing to give love a chance.

Harmon Keyes wasn’t looking for romance when he visited Roy Mars’ gallery show, but the moment he sees Winston Saint, he’s smitten. He has no idea who Winston is, but the attraction is off the charts. He also isn’t sure if he’ll ever see the man again. Can a trip to Dye Hard Style help get him together with Winston?

Michael Winston Saint knew the second he spotted Harmon that he’d fallen head over heels. He’d never forget the geeky guy who talked too much or that kiss full of electricity and passion. Unfortunately, he has to leave the gallery show before he can give Harmon his number. He returns to Norville for a rest and the chance to connect with his dream man. Winston’s determined to win over Harmon at all costs.

Will the teacher and the rock star be able to make a go of their relationship? Or will the gossip and complication of small-town life be more than they can handle?

Reader advisory: This book contains references to addiction and inadequate parenting.

Excerpt

“You’re sure this is the place to find someone?” Winston asked. “I mean, it’s an art gallery. How many hot guys are going to be here?” He elbowed his band member and best friend, Duke.

“Why would I tell you to come to this if there weren’t hot guys?” Duke shrugged. “I mean I don’t know if there are available men here. There are people here and that’s what you need. Look, I don’t care if you find someone or not, but I want you to get on with your life. This is a good place to meet people―even if they aren’t hot men. You just need to talk to someone who isn’t famous and we won’t be recognized here. Promise. The focus is on Roy.”

“It should be.” He spied one of the paintings. The art might have been created by Roy, but the pieces focused on Duke. The romance between the men blossomed and shimmered on every painting and in each photograph.

Winston sighed. He wanted a love like this. Wanted to be desired and craved. He’d thought he had this with his previous girlfriends, but no one had really loved him. They loved the image and the money connected with him. He resumed looking at the art and drinking in the images. People milled around and some chatted, but they did leave him alone, like Duke had said they would. He delighted in being able to walk around without being accosted. No one cared he was famous. The art mattered.

He stopped in front of a gold-framed painting of Duke on a stool. He’d never looked at his friend in the nude—not intentionally. They’d shared moments in the shower when the entire band had had to use one hotel room, but he’d never looked at Duke like a lover. But this way made him seem sexy and approachable, but sad and lonely, too.

“Have you ever seen anything so sensual?” a woman beside him asked. “It’s like the artist captured him at his most vulnerable.” She clicked her tongue. “I love it.”

“It’s nice.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to keep looking at Duke this way. He wandered over to another piece, an abstract one. He liked these better because he could interpret them as he pleased. He liked the play of color blocks.

“Do you like that one?” The curator gestured to the work. “Only three thousand dollars. Might be wonderful above the sofa.”

He snorted. He didn’t have a couch, much less a home to put either in. “Oh, I don’t know.”

“About its worth? Or the placing?” the curator asked. “I’m sure you could come up with a better placement. Just a suggestion.”

“This seems more like a statement piece than a placeholder in a room.” He nodded. “But I’m considering buying it.”

“You are?” The curator grinned. “I’ll let the others know it’s under consideration.”

“Sure.” He glanced over to his right and paused. A man he’d never seen stood before one of the photograph series. Winston’s breath lodged in his throat. The moment he looked at the guy, he wanted to get to know him.

He strode across the room, dodging and weaving around the people in the crowd until he reached the mystery man. He’d never forget him if he tried. He liked the way this person’s sport coat seemed tailored for his body, the way he carried himself with confidence and the slight graying at his temples. He wanted to touch him and memorize every detail of his face. To dance with him and kiss… Oh God, he wanted to kiss him.

“What are you doing?” Duke asked. He nudged Winston. “You’re drooling.”

“Would you believe I’m in love?” He faced Duke. “The moment I saw him across the room, I fell in love.”

“You fall for someone after every concert, too.” Duke rolled his eyes. “Who is it?”

“The guy over there.” He gestured to the man, trying not to be obvious. “Dark hair, dark eyes, tall…handsome. I want him.”

“He’s not a possession.” Duke swatted Winston’s arm. “He’s a person.”

“I know that.” He glared at his bandmate. “Jesus. I’m not heartless.” He didn’t want to own this guy. Just experience him and find out if they could be together forever. “It’s like that old song. I’ve seen his face and I can’t forget it. I can’t forget that I want to be with this person, and I want everyone to know I’m in love.”

Duke snorted. “In love. You have no idea what love is.”

“Maybe it’s time I found out.” He swatted Duke’s arm again. “Excuse me. I need to meet my destiny.”

“Right.” Duke didn’t chase him.

Good. He didn’t want to be chased. The attraction was instant. He needed to know this handsome man in the suit coat. He stopped beside the guy. “Do you like this painting?”

The man rocked on his feet and chuckled. “I like a lot of art.” He met Winston’s gaze. “Do you?”

“Like this work? Sure.” Winston swept his gaze over him. Dark hair, deep hazel eyes with chips of green among the brown, thick lashes and the guy reminded him of a professor. The studious nature spoke to Winston. He’d bet this guy wasn’t trouble. Wouldn’t get him into trouble or con him into going back to his drug habit.

“Is this your first show?” the man asked.

“Of this sort, yeah.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Is it yours?”

“No, I like to visit the various shows here at the gallery. I appreciate art. I’m not artistic at all, but I like to look at it.” He smiled and the warmth in his smile lit in his eyes. “My name is Harmon.”

He offered his hand to Harmon. He liked the sound of his name and the way his skin tingled when they touched. “I’m…Michael.” He didn’t want to admit his stage name just yet. If Harmon could like him without the airs of his fame, then they had a chance of making it. Too many people couldn’t see beyond the glitter of celebrity.

“Hi, Michael.” Harmon gestured to the painting. “What do you think of this one? I like the play of light, but the sadness in the subject really gets to me. It’s like I’m looking into the soul of the man, while being closed off from what’s wrong.”

Damn. He simply saw yet another painting of a naked Duke. He pieced through what Harmon had said. He hated having to hide his true emotions behind the mask of the character he’d created for the rock music stage. Few saw the pain he hid because he’d closed himself off from so many people.

“Is that what you see, too?” Harmon asked. “I’m famous for getting these things wrong.” He chuckled. “My friend Suzanne would tell you I see things that aren’t there.”

“Suzanne?” Shit. He hadn’t considered this guy might not be gay. “Girlfriend?”

“God, no. She wants to be more, but she’s just a fellow teacher. She thinks we’ll make beautiful babies. I hate to tell her I’m not interested in being a dad. Ever.” Harmon blushed. “Shit. I’ve talked too much.”

“Not at all.” Winston snagged two glasses of sparkling cider from the tray. “Have one?”

“Thank you.” Harmon sipped the drink. “I’m told the artist and his husband are recovering addicts, so no booze. I don’t mind when someone drinks, but I’m not much of a drinker. I can’t hold my liquor.” He blushed again. “And I’m talking too much again.”

“You’re fine.” Winston liked learning about him. “How long have you been teaching?”

“Twelve years.” Harmon grinned and held up his glass. “I got hired right out of college here in Norville. I love teaching in a small town. The moment I took the job, I felt like I’d been welcomed into the town. I became part of the family.”

“It does seem like this place is one big family.” Everyone seemed to know everyone else’s business—except Duke hadn’t known Harmon. According to Duke, Norville was the place to disappear into and find his footing.

“Anyway, they don’t mind that I’m gay, don’t mind that I like being a history nerd and that I’m not interested in being a parent.” Harmon sipped his cider. “What about you? What brings you to the show tonight?”

“My friend encouraged me to come along.” More like conned him, then begged and pushed. “I’m glad I did.” His phone buzzed in his back pocket. Shit. He’d answer it later. “I’m glad I got to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Harmon toyed with the stem of his glass. “So do you live in Norville?”

“I’m looking for a place, but I’m living with a friend.” He needed to get out of Duke’s basement and fast. “Do you know of any good apartments? Or houses?”

“I live in the Cordell building. It’s three blocks from the high school. It’s a small apartment building and I doubt there’s any openings, but I found it through the apartment finder paper. It’s online now. Search Norville apartments and you’ll find it.” Harmon shook his head. “I talk too much. Suzanne would’ve chewed me out by now. She’d tell me I disclosed too much.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He liked how he’d managed to get Harmon to open up. A woman elbowed him and he gestured to Harmon. “Why don’t we go over here? I think we’re monopolizing the painting.”

“Sure.” Harmon followed him to the edge of the room away from the works. “I tend to get wrapped up in the art and it’s nice to talk to someone who isn’t a fellow teacher.”

“Then it’s a good thing we met. I’m not a teacher and could never impart information to students.” He chuckled and toyed with his glass. “I play music.”

“Are you in a band?” Harmon asked.

“I was.” He still had the band, but the Saints were on hiatus. One day he’d get them back together—after he did his stint with the supergroup he’d joined, Big Philo. He hated being without music. “I just like singing.”

“What kind of music?”

“Rock. I like emoting through my songs.” He hesitated a beat. Most people knew who he was, but this man seemed oblivious. “Have you heard of the Saints?”

“No.” Harmon downed more of his cider. “I gravitate more toward oldies and classical music.” He rolled his eyes. “I guess that’s fitting. I like history and would rather listen to old tunes.”

“It’s nice. I like the classics, too. It’s nice to get back to the roots when you sing. I practice on the old songs to get limbered up to perform.” He nodded. “Plus, those songs are so great. Complex, but simple and so full of emotion. I hear them and I know exactly what the singer is going through. Are they in love, breaking up, sadly single…crushing?”

“Yeah.” Harmon’s smile built slowly and his eyes sparkled. “Like how I saw the art.”

“It is.” He held out his hand and the second he touched Harmon’s fingers, sparks shot through his body, just like before. “I have to ask. Are you seeing anyone?” He needed to know if he had competition for Harmon’s attention.

“No.” Harmon inched closer to him. “I’m very single.”

“Would…would you like to have coffee sometime?” Winston asked. “And talk some more?”

“I’d love that.” Harmon placed his nearly empty glass on a close table and opened his mouth to speak, but someone pushed and he collided with Winston. The move managed to knock the rest of the cider from Winston’s glass onto his shirt. “I’m so sorry,” Harmon apologized. “Let me get you some napkins.”

“I’m not going to melt.” He put his glass with Harmon’s and allowed Harmon to blot his shirt. “The last time I had someone clean me up was when I caught the flu.” He’d been so sick and hungover that the roadies had had to carry him off stage. “Thanks.”

“It’s all part of being a teacher. I want to fix things for people.” Harmon continued to sop up the drink. He slowed his touches, seeming to caress Winston’s chest. “You’re like steel under there.”

“I work out.” Instead of drink or get high. “Do you?”

“I run laps at the school. It’s one big square, so it’s easy to do laps indoors or head to the track when it’s nice.” Harmon flattened his hand on Winston’s chest. “Is it just me, or did the temperature spike?”

“It’s warm.” He inched closer to Harmon. “But I like it.” He liked Harmon. He memorized the crinkles at the corners of Harmon’s eyes, the sprinkling of hairs on his cheeks and chin and the way his cologne wrapped around Winston. “May I kiss you?”

Harmon nodded. Instead of answering in words, he bridged the gap between them and kissed Winston.

Winston bit back his initial shock at being touched and kissed, then melted into the connection. He liked being kissed. Liked being held. He grasped Harmon’s hands and kept him close. The softness of Harmon’s lips competed with the slight scratch of his short whiskers. When Harmon opened to him, Winston sucked on Harmon’s tongue. He liked the way this man tasted and the way he felt against him. They were tailored for each other.

Harmon whimpered and deepened the kiss. He bumped noses with Winston and let go of his hands, then slid his arms around Winston.

God, yes. Winston swayed with Harmon, never wanting this moment to end. His synapses misfired and the rest of the world seemed to melt away. Nothing mattered except this kiss.

“There you are.” Someone Winston didn’t know swatted his arm. “Hey.”

Winston rested his forehead on Harmon’s, then sighed. “I think we’re being interrupted.”

“We are.” Harmon blushed and put some space between them. “And they’re staring at you.”

He’d thought so. He could’ve sworn he felt the stare boring into his side. Why did this person have to interrupt him right now? He hooked his fingers in Harmon’s front pants pockets, then stared at the person touching him. “Yes?”

“You’re not responding to your phone.” The man folded his arms. “I’ve been sent to talk to you.”

“Are you being investigated by the IRS?” Harmon asked. “Or the CIA?”

“Neither.” He kissed Harmon on the cheek. “Give me a moment. I’d like to spend more time with you, but I need to address this first. Okay?”

“Sure.” Harmon let go and nodded to the gentleman, then disappeared into the crowd.

Winston gritted his teeth. “What do you want?”

“You need to answer your phone,” the man said. “Dazzle, Ronny, Vik and Rummy are expecting you at the next five gigs. You did remember you signed on to front Big Philo for five shows, right?”

“I remember.” He did, but he’d sort of hoped they’d forgotten about him. “They start next week, right?”

“Tomorrow.”

Fuck. “I need to tell Harmon I’m leaving.” Where was Harmon? “Just a moment.” He surged into the crowd, locating Duke and Roy, but not Harmon. He grasped Duke’s sleeve. “Hey. I need to go.”

“Gonna leave with the guy you were over there kissing?” Duke winked. “He’s cute. Not as cute as Roy, but hey. I got the best guy around.”

“Yeah. The thing is, I’m not leaving with Harmon.” He needed to find him. “Have you seen him?”

“I haven’t.” Duke frowned. “What’s up?”

“I said I’d play with Big Philo and they want me tomorrow. It’s my own fault. I over-scheduled myself.” And he’d have to get going if he planned on making it to the plane to head to the gig on time. “Help me find him.”

“I thought you were done with music for a while. Why pick a supergroup? Jesus. Dazzle alone will get you back on the sauce. You’ve made so much progress.” Duke grabbed Winston’s arm. “Don’t do it.”

“I have to go. I’m contractually bound.” He still didn’t see Harmon. Shit. “I want to tell him goodbye and that I’ll be back.”

“I’ll tell him.” Duke snorted. “I see Lee coming. He looks pissed. Go, but keep your fucking head on. Don’t you dare start taking again. I will kick your ass.”

“I’ll kick my ass.” He growled. “Okay. If I see him before I leave, I’ll tell him I’m going, but please tell him, too. Oh and there’s a painting the curator thinks I’m buying. Tell him I am and let me know what I owe. He said he’d put a hold on it.”

“I’ll handle it.” Duke nodded. “Count on me.”

“Thanks.” He left Duke by the painting of a vase, then hurried to the door with Lee. He’d rather be staying, but he’d signed contracts to say he’d front the supergroup and he had to live up to the contracts. He stopped at the door to look for Harmon one more time without luck. The guy was starting to feel like a figment of his imagination.

“Are you ready?” Lee snapped his fingers. “We need to go.”

“Yeah.” He’d have to explain the situation to Harmon when he returned because, damn it, he was coming back to Norville. He wasn’t done with Harmon. Not by a long shot.

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About the Author. . .

Megan Slayer

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and BDSM themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been the runner up in the Kink Category at Love Romances Café as well as nominated at the LRC for best author, best contemporary, best ménage and best anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on Amazon.com.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice.

Find out more about Megan on her website, and sign up for the newsletter here. You can also check out her Blog, Amazon Author Page, Bookbub and Instagram.

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#BookTour...The Masonville #Series #Book 4...#SmallTown #Contemporary #Romance #Giveaway

Strong Enough

The Masonville Series Book 4

by Jana Richards

Genre: Small Town Contemporary Romance

Love can make you stronger, if you let it.


Charlotte Saunders has a full life—a rewarding career as a nurse, meaningful volunteer work at a dog shelter, and family, friends and pets she adores. But no matter how hard she tries, she can’t forget the horrible event that’s haunted her for ten years.

A survivor of childhood sexual abuse, Damon Greyson now helps others who have suffered trauma. His experience and intuition alert him to trouble in Charlotte’s past, and he wants to help her, if only she’d let him.

As they work together to help veterans suffering from PTSD and neglected dogs needing loving homes, their feelings for each other deepen. But when the trauma from Charlotte’s past roars back to life, both are forced to confront their painful histories—or die trying.

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Unexpected

The Masonville Series Book 3

Single dad Ben Greyson wants only to retain custody of his two stepdaughters. A dysfunctional childhood has made family the most important thing in his life. When his late wife's parents sue for custody, a desperate Ben is left with two choices – run away with his girls or marry his next-door neighbor.

Jamie Garven wants to be a mother. She's intrigued by her handsome new neighbor and falls in love with his little girls. Then Ben is faced with losing his children, and Jamie agrees to marry him for a chance at motherhood. They're determined to show the world, and the girls' grandparents, two loving parents.

Their marriage of convenience turns into unexpected love. But Ben interprets Jamie's efforts to save their family as betrayal—they could lose everything, including each other.

**On Sale at Amazon for .99cents June 3 - 17!!**

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To Heal a Heart

The Masonville Series Book 2

Two souls in pain, two hearts in need of rescue.


Garrett Saunders' world changed two years ago on a road in Afghanistan. Back home, he feels like a stranger. As he struggles to find his place in the world, he meets a horse destined for the slaughterhouse and a woman bent on rescuing the strays of the world, including him.

Blair Greyson moves to Masonville to look after her ailing grandfather and give her rescue horses a home. Right away she butts heads with a surly former Marine. Despite a rocky start, they come to an agreement: Blair will board Garrett's rescue horse and he'll help with repairs around her farm.

Garrett finds purpose working with Blair—and falls in love with her. But she's hiding a secret. Can she forgive herself and accept Garrett's love, or will she let guilt and regret continue to rule her life?

**On Sale at Amazon for .99cents May 20 – June 3!!**

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Child of Mine

The Masonville Series Book 1

Is Lauren’s love for Cole stronger than her fear of scandal in her hometown?

Lauren didn't intend to sleep with her brother-in-law Cole on the day of her husband's funeral. But now that she is pregnant, she's not sorry. Cole's given her a baby, a long-wished-for miracle. He's been her friend forever, though she never told him or anyone else how unhappy her marriage to his cheating brother was. And she's afraid to tell the small town that considered her husband a hero that the baby isn't his.

Cole's been in love with Lauren since he was sixteen. It kills him that everyone believes the baby is his dead brother's. All he wants is to claim the baby, and Lauren, as his own. Though she marries him, will Lauren's heart ever be his?

Lauren must tell the truth or risk losing Cole. Is her newly-discovered love for him greater than her fear of scandal in her hometown?

**On Sale at Amazon for .99cents until May 20!!**

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When Jana Richards read her first romance novel, she immediately knew two things: she had to commit the stories running through her head to paper, and they had to end with a happily ever after. She also knew she’d found what she was meant to do. Since then she’s never met a romance genre she didn’t like. She writes contemporary romance, romantic suspense, and historical romance set in World War Two, in lengths ranging from short story to full length novel. Just for fun, she throws in generous helpings of humor, and the occasional dash of the paranormal. Her paranormal romantic suspense “Seeing Things” was a 2008 EPPIE finalist.

In her life away from writing, Jana is an accountant/admin assistant, a mother to two grown daughters, and a wife to her husband Warren. She enjoys golf, yoga, movies, concerts, travel and reading, not necessarily in that order. She and her husband live in Winnipeg, Canada. She loves to hear from readers and can be reached through her website at www.janarichards.com

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Sunday, May 22, 2022

The #Sexy #Nerd #Review. . .Do You Follow. . .#Thriller #Suspense #FollowMe #ReadingList #DoYouFollow


Alexa lives a sheltered life with her widowed father, feeling stifled by his helicopter parenting. When she secures a marketing job and apartment in New York City—much to her father’s and therapist’s concern—Alexa has high hopes of finally sneaking her way into adulthood. But her newfound freedom is cut short when her estranged twin sister Beth, after a long stint in a psychiatric setting, unexpectedly shows up at the doorstep of her tiny apartment.

Alexa too has spent time at the Weinstein Center. But she's determined to lead a normal life now and soon begins to date a YouTuber client. According to Beth, something isn’t quite right with Curt, but Alexa shrugs her clingy sister’s warnings off. It’s Beth who’s crazy, after all . . . As the sister bond grows strained over Alexa’s relationship and career success, questions mount, and secrets unfold, revealing the wickedly dark shared history of the twin siblings. What exactly happened when the twins were only nine that set this vile trajectory in motion?

Things get more complicated, and one treacherous act threatens everything Alexa has been working toward. It will be on her—and Beth—to claw the way out of this situation.


The Sexy nerd's Review. . .


This is the first time I’ve read this author and I have to say I wasn’t exactly sure how I felt about her writing style, but it didn’t take me long to figure out—I like her style!

I love reading books about twins. Who doesn’t? They are some of the most interesting people you ever come across. The fact that most of them can sense what the other is feeling, even finish each other’s sentences is astonishing to say the least. But, as Alexa soon found out, loving your sibling is one thing, but accepting your twin is a whole other ball of wax.

Alexa and Beth were identical twins in every sense of the word. They looked the same, talked the same, did everything the same. Mirror images if you will. Alexa was living at home with her father. Her mother had passed a few years earlier and her estranged twin Beth was living on her own in a psychiatric facility. The twins’ mother’s death may or may not have contributed to the reason Beth was in this facility (you have to read the book, wink-wink!), but nonetheless Beth was finally getting out.

Well, as luck would have it, Alexa had applied for a job and got it. The only problem was the job was in New York City and her dad wasn’t that excited to have Alexa move away from their home to go to New York. Even though her dad was a bit overprotective, he realized that Alexa was an adult and could make her own decisions to do what she wished. She packed up all her worldly possessions and headed for the Big Apple.

No sooner had her father lifted the last box and placed it inside her tiny apartment and she was getting excited being on her very own for the first time, up pops Beth. Alexa wanted her freedom and independence and Beth longed to be in her twin’s life. How she found out where Alexa lived was beyond her, but with that twin intuition, she couldn’t go anywhere in the world without her twin knowing about it. Instead of grilling her sister about how she found out where she lived, after much prodding and debate, Alexa agreed to allow Beth to live with her. Alexa knew their father would be infuriated knowing that Beth was staying with her so she managed to keep her twin’s reappearance quiet.

Beth didn’t like that Alexa had a new job. Of course, that would mean she’d have to spend the majority of her day at home doing nothing. What was a girl to do? Meanwhile as Alexa was becoming acclimated with her new job at FLLW, she met and fell head-over-heels in love with its client, Curt Kempton, the chef. Curt hired FLLW to assist in getting his follows up on YouTube so he could become the great influencer he knew he could be. He did well for himself, but not as well as he’d hope. Alexa was charged with coming up with a plan to help get Curt’s follows up.

She didn’t plan on falling in love with the client. The heart wants what it wants and it definitely wanted Curt. They secretly began dating and then eventually he moves in with Alexa and Beth and that, readers, is where this story soars out of orbit! Holy cow!

I must admit I figured part of the story out in the very beginning, but that ending nearly knocked me out. I just wasn’t expecting that. Bidonde did an amazing job in pushing this story forward and making you pay close attention to all the little details. This is one of those stories where you don’t want to skip over anything because the very thing you accidentally skip could be something major down the way. Wow, I was extremely impressed with this author and her story.

From what I’ve read this is Bidonde’s first novel and I have to say I love her voice. She’s an awesome writer and she gives you just what you need to keep it moving. I really like her style as I mentioned in the very beginning of my review.

The Sexy Nerd gives Do You Follow five additional followers and counting. If you’re looking for a different twist on an old story line, this book will definite give it to you. Grab your copy at your favorite book retailers or wherever books are sold. Until next time, Nerds, you know what to do!




Open a Book and Get Mind Blown!

Saturday, May 21, 2022

#NewReleaseBlitz...In His Hands...#BondageAndBDSM #Contemporary #EroticRomance #Giveaway

In His Hands By Hannah Murray

Book 3 in the Perfect Taboo series

Word Count: 71,221
Book Length: SUPER NOVEL
Pages: 277

GENRES:

BONDAGE AND BDSM
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE

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Book Description

Consent is everything…and with consent, everything is possible.

Olivia has one wish—to find a partner who will do consensual non-consent scenes with her. She thought she’d found the perfect man, but he turned out to be more dud than Dom. When their relationship implodes, she moves out, and moves in with her friend Cade. He’s happy to have her, but living with him won’t be easy. It was easier to ignore her feelings for him, and the fact that he’d always been her ideal Dom, when she’d had a boyfriend. But he’d stopped doing CNC after a scene had gone wrong, so she’d set her sights elsewhere.

Cade has his own problems. He’s been in love with Olivia since they met, but when she started dating someone else, he put his feelings aside and focused on being her friend. But now that she’s single again, he’s not going to let opportunity pass him by. He’s happy to set her straight about his feelings on CNC play—totally still into it, but won’t do casual scenes—and more than eager to make all her kinky dreams come true.

Olivia finally has the kind of kinky relationship she’s always wanted, and her feelings for Cade only grow stronger as time goes on. But when her ex reappears to explain why he ended their relationship, she wonders if she’s mistaking her happiness with their CNC play for love—and worries that Cade might be doing the same…

Reader advisory: This book includes scenes of consensual non-consent, as well as RACK, role-play, sexual fantasy, blood play and rape fantasy.

Publisher's Note: The story told in this book begins on the same day that Sharing His Submissive ends, and before the events of Show Me Something Good.

Excerpt

Olivia stared at her boyfriend in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

Kyle raised one blond eyebrow, which unfortunately added a layer of smug condescension to his Generically Handsome White Guy face. “Do I look serious?”

“Yes.” His usual affable smile was missing, his mouth pinched tight. “You look very serious.”

“Well, then.” Kyle took out a pen and tapped the thick sheaf of papers on the table between them.

“You’re telling me if I don’t sign that, we’re done.”

“That’s what I’m telling you.”

This didn’t make any sense. “I don’t want a Master/slave relationship, Kyle. You know that.”

He laid the pen on the table. It was the fountain pen she’d given him for his birthday last month, she noted. It was made in Germany, by some company that was apparently the world leader in fancy fountain pens, and had cost almost as much as her share of the monthly rent. It had a black lacquer finish, gold trim, and a gold nib that squirted ink all over her fingers every time she used it.

“It’s not about what you want, but rather, what you need,” Kyle said, and Olivia narrowed her eyes. He only used words like ‘rather’ when he was trying extra hard to be taken seriously.

“I don’t need a slave contract—which, by the way, is not in any way legally enforceable.” She paused to take a calming breath. If she started yelling, he’d just shut down, and they’d never get anywhere. “I need you to talk to me. I don’t understand where this is coming from.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, his expression shuttered. He looked the way he did when he was trying to bluff his way through a crappy hand at the poker table, or when someone disagreed with some political talking point he was repeating. Like he knew he was fucked and wanted to walk away, but his pride wouldn’t allow it.

She knew that pride. It was stubborn and immovable and her biggest obstacle to figuring out just what was behind this ridiculousness.

She switched tactics. “Kyle, this is something we have to talk about. You can’t just spring a contract on me like this.”

“Actually, I can.” He arched an eyebrow again. “I’m the Dom, and I make the rules.”

That was such pile of verbal crap that she momentarily lost the power of speech, and while she was gaping at him, trying to figure out what the hell he was thinking, he stood up.

“I have to pick up Andy for the game.” He crossed the room and scooped his keys out of the bowl on the table next to the door. Her bowl, her table. “I expect that contract to be signed when I get back.”

The bafflement and shock that had held her frozen since he’d first tossed that contract on the table was fading, replaced by an incredulous fury that made her feel like she was breathing sulfur. “Or?”

“Or you can pack your things,” he replied calmly. “It’s your choice.”

He twirled his keys around his finger—another nervous tell—opened the door and walked out.

Olivia stared at the closed door for a moment, then looked down at the contract. It was at least twenty pages, held together with one of the bright pink binder clips she kept in the kitchen junk drawer to use on bags of chips or frozen vegetables. Kyle’s name was in bold type at the top, right in front of the words, “hereafter referred to as Master”, and her name, bolded but not capitalized, right before “hereafter referred to as slave”, and the remainder of her disbelief disintegrated in a flood of pure rage.

She stood up, shoving back from the table hard enough to make it wobble, and stalked to the bedroom. She pulled her suitcases from the back of the closet, laid them on the bed, and began to pack.

She worked methodically, rolling her clothes to minimize wrinkling and maximize space. When the dresser, the closet, and the nightstand on her side of the bed were empty, she walked across the hall to the guest room-office to gather the clothes she had stored there.

There wasn’t a lot—the cocktail dresses she rarely had occasion to wear, a formal gown she’d bought on a whim when a local dress shop had gone out of business, and the plastic storage bin with her corsets. When she pulled the bin down from the top shelf, the dust coating the lid made her sneeze. It had been months since she’d worn one, though she and Kyle went to a kink event nearly every week. It had just seemed like too much trouble, and Kyle hadn’t cared one way or the other.

“That should’ve been a fucking clue,” she muttered, and sneezed again.

Back in the bedroom, she crammed the dresses into the already full suitcases, then zipped them closed and wrestled them to the floor. She pulled the duvet off the bed, then the sheets, and added the pillow she’d broken in how she liked it to the pile before heading into the bathroom for her toiletries.

She needed a box for the kitchen, and found one in the office, full of Kyle’s tax files. She dumped them without remorse onto his desk chair and packed it tight with utensils, measuring cups, and the egg timer in the shape of a cow—and she took the pink binder clip off the damn contract, too. She pulled a garbage bag from under the sink for the potholders and dishtowels, then added her bedding, towels, and every spare sheet from the hall linen closet.

The sonofabitch had been sleeping on a bare mattress when she’d moved in, and he could damn well do it again.

She gathered her laptop and tablet from the living room, her extra phone charger and the blanket her aunt had crocheted for her in college. The electronics went into the tote she used as a purse, the blanket into the garbage bag. Then she dragged everything to the front door and took a last tour of the apartment.

She made a list of all the things she’d need to come back for. The prints and photos on the walls, the table by the front door. Her stand mixer still sat on the kitchen counter, her dishes in the cabinets. There were pieces of sculpture and statuary she’d collected over the years scattered throughout the apartment that would need to be carefully wrapped and packed, as would her reproduction Tiffany lamp. Her grandmother’s mirror hung above the entry table, and the chair and dresser that were the only pieces of furniture she’d kept when she’d moved in with Kyle.

She quelled the twinge of anxiety at the thought of leaving so many of her things behind and grabbed her keys. It took three trips and some creative arranging, but she managed to get everything into her ancient Camry. By the time she climbed the stairs for the last time, she was sweating, her tank top sticking to her back. She’d retrieved one of the hair ties she kept on the stick shift of her car, so her hair was off her neck. But sweat trickled between her breasts and down the backs of her legs, and the only thing keeping her moving was righteous rage.

Back in the apartment, she hefted her tote with a grunt, and started to take the front door key off her key ring. She wanted to leave it right in the middle of his damned contract where he couldn’t possibly miss it, but she hesitated. She had to retrieve the rest of her things, and if she left her key behind now, she’d have to go through Kyle to do it.

“The hell I will,” she muttered, and palming her keys, turned to go. Then she caught her reflection in the mirror over the entry table and winced. She was a mess. Half her honey-blonde hair had fallen out of its hastily constructed topknot to hang, limp and damp with sweat, to her shoulders. She’d sweated off her makeup except for a solid smudge of mascara under each eye—which, except for the faint flush of exertion on her cheeks, was the only color on her already pale face. Even her eyes looked dull.

Dull and beige. It was a good way to describe her relationship with Kyle. And now, over.

She hitched her bag higher on her shoulder, and her gaze landed on the chain encircling her neck. The everyday collar was only slightly longer than a choker, with a tiny key charm that nestled in the hollow of her throat. The necklace’s standard clasp had been removed and replaced with silver rings that attached to the charm, turning a standard removeable chain into a permanent one. The only way to get it off was to break it.

She stared at it, remembering how she’d felt when Kyle had fastened it around her neck. She’d been so happy, so full of hope. Now, staring at the tiny key that had meant so much, all she felt was anger and sadness.

She dropped her bag to the floor and grabbed the necklace in both sweaty fists. The little silver rings gave way easily, pulling free with barely a twist, and the key fell with a musical clink to the floor at her feet.

She picked it and stared at it, small and insignificant in her palm, the broken chain dangling from her fingers. A year of her life in two broken pieces of silver, she thought, her throat tight, and wanted to rage and scream at the waste of it all.

Instead she walked to the table, dropped the charm and the necklace on the contract, then walked back to the mirror and pulled it off the wall. With the heavy tote on one arm and the mirror tucked under the other, she walked out.

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About the Author. . .

Hannah Murray

Hannah has been reading romance novels since she was young enough to have to hide them from her mother. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband—former Special Forces and an OR nurse who writes sci-fi fantasy and acts as In-House Expert on matters pertaining to weapons, tactics, the military, medical conditions and How Dudes Think—and their daughter, who takes after her father. 

Find out more about Hannah at her website and blog.




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#BookBlitz...Her Jailer's Secrets...@RABTBookTours #RABTBookTours #HerJailersSecrets #BrianFSmith #HistoricalFiction

A broken family's fight against a brutal justice system

Historical Fiction, Australian History, Literary Fiction

Date Published: April 2022

Publisher: Tablo Publishing

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In 1786 Elizabeth Fitzgerald, a 26 year old woman, became involved in England's brutal justice system and found herself exiled from her homeland to Botany Bay in the antipodes where she had to endure brutality, near starvation, love and a shipwreck off Norfolk Island with her friend Jane Fitzgerald. She bore twin girls to a marine William Mitchell while on the island and began her own family in this strange new land, as she never expected to ever see her family members, or friends, ever again.

On her return to Sydney she began a new life with another soldier, Thomas Wright, with whom she had another child but was imprisoned again for selling her children's rations to purchase rum where she met a strange cockney woman named Margaret, who was in charge of the prison and who changed her life.

William Mitchell, who returned to England carried out an investigation into who Margaret really was as she had now died, and in doing so came up against Irish rebels who threatened his life but finally gave him a sealed letter as to her true identity, that could not be opened by anyone other than one of the two Fitzgerald women.

About the Author. . .

Brian F. Smith has always had an interest in writing that became further enhanced with his early career moves which included his service with the Australian Army before joining the Victoria Police Force. He later went on to become the Chief Security Officer at the Loloho Port Site on Bougainville Island in Papua New Guinea. On his return to Australia, he founded the 'Jordan River Journal,' a Hobart, Tasmania suburban newspaper before going to the island's west coast where he founded the ' The Western Herald' another local weekly newspaper. Since his retirement, he has written four books: 'Off The Record", "Convict Connections', 'Witness to a Miracle' and 'Her Jailer's Secrets'. In 2020 he obtained a Diploma in Family History from the University of Tasmania.

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#BookTour...The Scandal #Series #Book 5...#Historical #Regency #Romance #Giveaway

Scandal's Redemption

The Scandal Series Book 5

by Pamela Gibson

Genre: Historical Regency Romance

Lady Jocelyn Stafford desperately needs a husband to repair her tarnished reputation. Her obvious choice is her neighbor James, a man who once fancied her. If only she hadn’t cruelly rejected his attentions when she found herself wooed by a scandalous rake with a better title.

James Margrave, Earl of Seaton, must have an heir to keep his estate from falling into the hands of his cousin, which means he has to marry. Lady Jocelyn, who still beguiles him, would be perfect if only he could forget old slights. Instead, James asks Jocelyn to help him find a suitable wife, a task she agrees to perform, hoping to redeem herself in his eyes.

When a series of attacks put James’s life in danger, an immediate marriage becomes critical. Jocelyn is willing and available. But can he trust a woman who once broke his heart and is it fair to wed her when she might become the next victim?

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Scandal's Child

The Scandal Series Book 1

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Scandal's Bride

The Scandal Series Book 2

**Get it FREE May 19-21!**

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Scandal's Promise

The Scandal Series Book 3

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Scandal's Deception

The Scandal Series Book 4

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Author of eight books on California history and eighteen romance novels, Pamela Gibson is a former City Manager who lives in the Nevada desert. Having spent the last few years messing about in boats, a hobby that included a five-thousand-mile trip in a 32-foot Nordic Tug, she now spends most of her time indoors happily reading, writing, cooking and keeping up with the antics of Ralph, the Rescue Cat. She loves dry red wine, all kinds of chocolate, old Jimmy Buffet sailing songs, and curling up with a good book.

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