The Vivian recognizes excellence in romance writing and showcases author talent and creativity. We celebrate the power of the romance genre with its central message of hope--because happily ever afters are for everyone.
Romance Writers of America will announce the winners of the 2021 Vivian awards at a virtual Awards Ceremony on July 31st, 9pm EST. Caraway Carter will emcee the event, which will be streamed live at www.rwa.org.
The names of the winners will be posted as they’re announced on the RWA website, Twitter and Facebook pages (hashtag #RWAVivian).
When the circus gets a new act in, flashy stunt bike riders, Niki gets a surprise. His childhood friend Conner Flinn is one of the riders and has returned to the circus a big star.
Niki doesn't expect Conner to remember him, much less want to spend time with him as he's just one of the clowns.
But not only does Conner notice Niki, he also asks him to join his act. Will Niki finally have a reason to smile?
Excerpt
The pretty Black woman with curly hair on Conner's right was in a red catsuit with a zip up front, and white stars down her arms and legs. The cute Black guy on Conner's left was in a similar suit of blue and white stars, with a deep V-cut on the chest held together by see-through mesh to show off pecs and abs.
And Conner, his suit had the same deep V-cut with the see-through panel, showing off some serious muscle definition there. Niki's eyes didn't know where to land. He noticed that Conner's costume was red, white, and blue like the American flag.
"Niki," Conner said, gesturing at his companions, "this is Jesse, and Dwight. Guys, this is Niki."
"Nice to finally meet you," Jesse said, offering out her hand. "Conner hasn't shut up about you since we got here."
Niki was mildly surprised, but he shook hands with her, forever thankful he had his right arm so he didn't have to offer the wrong hand in social situations.
"Hey, man, how's it going," Dwight said, offering his hand next. "Looking forward to hearing any embarrassing stories you got about Conner."
Niki smiled wickedly. "Oh, there's plenty of those. Now please tell me you guys wear protective gear when you ride?"
This had them smiling and Dwight pointing a finger at Conner. "I told you people would ask!" Dwight said.
"We do, though," Conner replied. "Yeah, don't worry, Niki, we got the proper bike leathers to put on, and helmets of course."
"Well, good," Niki said, not quite able to let go of his old health and safety habits. "Make sure you wear them."
"We will," Jesse assured him. "We just came out to do some promo so we put on our pretty gear."
He glanced between Conner and Dwight, then gestured at their chests. "You should cover up all those rippling muscles, there's kids out here, y'know."
He was only teasing. All the big acts wore revealing Spandex, that was half the attraction.
Conner and Dwight found his joke highly amusing and laughed about it.
"This is why I have a zip," Jesse said, tugging the zipper on her chest. "Zip it down a bit for promo, and zip it up again later when there's kids about. It's so practical."
"Yeah." Dwight laughed. "And you can always tell if Jesse likes someone when the zipper comes down a little more while she's talking to them."
Jesse swatted him on the arm as she laughed. "Stop giving away all my secrets, man."
"Uh, why don't you guys go on ahead," Conner said to them. "I'll catch you up in a minute."
"Sure, Flinn." Dwight waggled his eyebrows at Conner, as Jesse pushed him away.
"C'mon, Dwight," she said, tugging Dwight with her. "It was great meeting you!" she said to Niki as they left.
"You, too," Niki replied, then looked at Conner. "What's wrong?"
"Hm?" Conner blinked in confusion. "Nothing's wrong. Why?"
"Oh. I thought something was wrong?"
"No?" Conner broke into a grin. "I just wanted to talk to you."
"Oh," Niki said, as a blush broke out over his face. Never had he been so thankful for his thick clown make-up.
"Do you want to hang out between shows tonight?" Conner asked.
"Um, sure."
"Great!" Conner grinned at him. "I'll come find you. Will you be in this outfit?"
"Yes," Niki said, feeling shy all over again. "I'm Cho-cho the clown now."
"I like this bit," Conner said, reaching out to touch the ruffle around Niki's neck. "You look like that little clown doll my mom used to collect."
"Pierrot," Niki said. "Yeah, that's the idea."
"It's cute." Conner smiled. "You make a cute clown."
An approaching parent with a kid interrupted them, and Conner took his cue to leave. He waved to the little kid as he walked by. He really did look amazing in that figure hugging costume.
Niki noticed the mom gape after Conner's retreating form, and he had to press his lips together so he didn't smile.
Me, too, lady, he thought.
About the Author . . .
J.B. Buell is a non binary writer (they/them) of m/m romance and gay rom com stories. They are a cat person, and can’t decide if they’re more of a coffee or tea person but is quite happy to drink both.
The Whitfield Estate is hidden deep in the Big Thicket outside of Soda, Texas. This reclusive family brood amassed their oil and timber fortune over four generations, and now that it’s been done, they have become painfully aware of how isolated and broken they are as a family.
Tessa Nettles, fresh from college, is hired as the estate manager. But her main role is to help the youngest Whitfield, Caroline, have a more normal life. She has been cloistered away at Whitfield for the whole of her first fourteen years. Now, her oldest brother, Grayson, wants to make a happier life for her than he and his brother, Travis, had.
But first, what will he do about the strange lights that fall from the sky over the Trinity River, and their connection with the mysterious voices at the end of the road, the voices of entities that have secretly been Caroline’s only friends her whole life? But are these ghostly entities dangerous? And will they want Tessa gone from Whitfield?
Will Old Gullah Woman and Preacher Man be allowed to stay on in the rundown river cabin, stirring up the waters and calling down the mysterious lights? Or will the Whitfield matriarch run them off, even after their Gullah potions kept her husband alive two years longer than the doctors could have?
And will Tessa bring harmony to the estate, or set off a competition between the brothers that has the potential to destroy the Whitfields completely?
Other books in the Ghosts of the Big Thicket Southern Gothic Mystery Series Include:
Twyla Ellis is a descendent of pioneers who came to Texas in the 1840s, while Texas was still a Republic. She grew up roaming the dense pine forests in the Big Thicket around Livingston, Texas at the homes of her grandmother, great-aunts and uncles, and cousins. Her family was one of the founding families of Livingston, and her great-great-great-grandfather was the first city treasurer in the eighteen-forties. She fell in love with the haunting feel of the Thicket, its sounds, and sights, and smells. Her goal is to make people aware of the mystique of this novel part of Texas.
She holds a degree from Howard Payne University and had taught English and Music, and has been a member of NEA, TSTA, and TETA. She was a statewide officer and conference speaker with TETA (Texas English Teachers Association). She has run her own children’s party and event planning business, Parties by Twyla, as well as Remembrances Antiques and Gifts in the Houston area. She is certified in computer graphic design and free-lances in her spare time.
Nothing makes her happier than road trips with her family to interesting old Texas towns. She loves church, antiquing, fossil hunting with her husband and sons (they hunt, she writes), Big Bend, the Alamo (don’t all Texans?), exploring deserted buildings with a camera, and especially, the Big Thicket of deep East Texas.
If she had to give you a one-sentence bio of herself, she would probably say, “That obnoxiously joyful, hug-driven, southern relative that you’d like to hide in the attic, just might be me.”
Twenty-year-old Trevor is overjoyed. An Australian millionaire offers him the summer job of his dreams: to catalog the library of his summer house in Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat—one of the ritziest and most exclusive spots on the Côte d’Azur.
What unnerves him, however, is the presence of a young housekeeper who turns out to be as drop-dead gorgeous as he is stilted, obnoxious, and conspicuously straight. Of course, Trevor’s quirky sass and light-hearted banter soon create an atmosphere of crackling tension between the two men.
What if the housekeeper isn’t as straight as Trevor thinks? What if Trevor is just the kind of person that housekeeper has been looking for all his life? And what if things aren’t exactly what they seem?
Excerpt
No, scratch that. Dirk is the slut.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m saying this fondly. But it’s a fact, and he owns it. He thinks monogamy is the name of a board game.
We hooked up two years ago, you see. That’s when I learned about Dirk being a slut. The hard way. To call ours a brief affair would be an understatement. To say I was crushed when it was over before it had even begun, another. That’s because I’m a hopeless romantic. Meaning that after our first shag—which incidentally turned out to be our last one—I was ready to publish the banns.
Dirk, not so much.
To his defense, he never hides his sluttiness. He’s even very outspoken about it. Gives you the proper warning right from the start. I remember, when we had both climaxed and were mopping up the evidence glistening on our bodies, he told me casually, “Phew—that was great, Tyler!”
“Trevor.”
“Oh. Right. Trevor. By the way—don’t fall in love with me.”
My reaction consisted of… a great blank. I was speechless. Probably because falling in love was exactly what I’d had in mind.
Oblivious to my emotional turmoil, he went on to explain. “I don’t do long-term relationships. Why, I don’t even do short-term relationships. I normally just, you know, fuck. No strings attached, no follow-ups included.”
I nodded like a robot.
“But I think I like you. We should stay friends, shouldn’t we?”
We shook hands that had shaken other body parts some mere minutes ago, and I left with a poker face. Only back in my tiny, tiny flat did I burst into tears.
Eventually, I got over him. It took me a week, to be precise. Not because I have a heart of stone, but because Dirk made sure my suffering wouldn’t last longer. He did so by calling me several times over the next few days, initiating his habit of informing me in crudest detail about his latest conquests.
After a week, I stated, “You’re such a slut, Dirk.”
“Why, how sweet of you!” he replied, sincerely flattered.
He single-handedly cured me of my romantic streak, then and there. I’m still looking for Mr. Darcy, all right. You don’t change so radically overnight, or overfuck as it were. But I’ve stopped fancying myself in love each time I get laid. Although Dirk thinks otherwise, that happens occasionally. Even blind chickens pick up a grain from time to time, as they say.
Dirk is German, by the way. And he has this annoyingly attractive all-German boy thing going. You know, thick blond hair, blue eyes, high cheekbones, mischievous smile. He’s tall and well built, with bulging muscles and no body fat to speak of. He doesn’t even work out, which, I mean, how unjust can life get? Oh, he’s also very well endowed, if memory serves me.
In other words, he’s a hung hunk. The guy who has it all and enjoys it, as he should.
What about me, you ask? Good question. I’m just your average dude. No one would describe me as hunky. For starters, I’m rather on the slender side. No, make that thin. Zero muscles embellishing my frame, no broad shoulders, just scrawniness wherever you look. I repeat, I do get laid. Some guys out there have a skinny kink, and what can I say? Lucky me.
My best features? Let me think. My eyes, maybe. They’re emerald green and come as a surprise because my hair is dark and my complexion, too. Cappuccino-ish. Americans with their fondness for all things binary and clear-cut would call me black. My mom is American, and darker than I, so I should know. Namely because she calls me black, but hey, that’s Mom.
Here in Europe I’d pass as a Mediterranean guy if it weren’t for the thick lips—“Perfect suck-me-off-lips” according to Dirk—and the very distinctive frizzy hair. The lips are okay. Whether they’re particularly suited for blowjobs or Dirk just had one of his racist moments isn’t for me to say. Never had any complaints in the oral department if you want the truth.
And my hair, well, I just love it the way it is. Hardly ever cut it, going for the good, ole Afro style. You can do so many cool things with a nice Afro, especially now guys have discovered that a man-bun is a thing.
Oh, talking about features I like about myself—let’s not forget my bum. The best thing I inherited from my mom’s far-away African ancestors, it’s firm and bouncy. Wet dreams material for gays with a bum fixation. This may come as a surprise to you, but they’re not in short supply.
Back to Dirk if you will. He’s great fun to have around: bitchy, lively, not a care in the world. Plus, he’s fiercely loyal to his friends. In a way. His way. That’s why he suggested me as his replacement for the Kinner job as soon as he had decided he’d prefer to spend his summer months with his aunt in Greece. That freaky woman has just invested her latest inheritance to buy a house somewhere on the Peloponnese coast and invited him to join her.
“I simply can’t say no,” he told me. “Think of the beautiful landscapes. And the sea. And the food.”
“Think of the beautiful Greek guys,” I muttered.
“Exactly,” he replied. “So, will you go and meet that lady for the interview? Please?”
“All right. I’ll do it.”
I don’t know what shaky lie he told Mademoiselle Destrelle, and I’m not sure I want to know. I’m just glad she didn’t bring it up because there’s a chance Dirk’s mother is supposed to be fatally ill again. So far, she has recovered at least a dozen times from ailments as far-fetched as jugular fever and acute fartinosis. I kid you not. Try to keep a straight face when something like that comes up in a job interview!
About the Author ...
Born in the early 70s, I grew up in a little village in Austria. At the age of 18, I moved to Vienna to get my master’s degree in Political Sciences, French, and Spanish. Today, I’m living in Paris, France, with my boyfriend and work as a graphic designer.
In my spare time, I write, read, cook fancy recipes, take photos, and as often as I can, I travel (Italy, Portugal, Morocco, Egypt, the UK, and many more places). My literary tastes are eclectic, ranging from fantasy, murder mysteries, gay romances to dystopian novels, but I won’t say no to poetry or a history book either. I’m more a hoodie/jeans/sneakers kind of guy than a suit-and-tie chap.
So far, I’ve published two short-story collections as well as four poetry collections. My first murder mystery novel “The Stuffed Coffin” has been released on January 6, 2019 and is also available in German and French. The French version has won the prestigious French Gay Murder Mystery Award 2019 (Prix du roman policier – Prix du roman gay 2019). My second novel “Till Death Do Us Part” was released on June 24, 2020. You can also find me on Rainbow Book Reviews, where I write book reviews under the pseudonym of ParisDude (for French reviews, have a look at my review site livresgay.fr).
After his heart was broken by his first love, Kamden Stone avoided romantic entanglements. He lives in the moment, taking partners who understand his desires and know things will end after one encounter. He's comfortable with the life he's carved out for himself, refusing to need anyone or anything until a young woman he can't stop thinking about changes the game.
Everly Mason moved to escape toxic family ties. All she wants is a fresh start and a new life. The house left to her is the perfect place to fall, isolated and in the middle of nowhere, providing plenty of work to keep her occupied. She's on the right path, taking things one day at a time, when she's introduced to a mysterious man she can't stop thinking about.
Despite everything, Kamden and Everly can't deny their chemistry. When they agree to a trial period, curious to see where things will go between them, they discover they need each other in a way they never thought possible. When the time comes, they'll have to accept what they want and need. To be together, they both have to find a reason to make them stay.
Excerpt
"How old are you, Everly?"
Relief coursed through her. Was that the problem? She did look young for her age. She'd been told she'd appreciate that later in life. Did he think she was too young for him? If that was the issue, she could ease his concern. She was definitely of legal age.
"Twenty-two. I'll be twenty-three in March."
"I'm thirty-four." He made it sound like a bad thing.
She figured as much, although he could shave a couple of years and pass himself off as a younger man if he wanted to. "So?"
The response surprised him. "That doesn't bother you?"
The men she'd dated had been in their early twenties, and they hadn't left behind good impressions. Both had wanted to go to parties, hang out with their friends, and play video games. They were also complete slobs who lived off their parents, worked part-time jobs, and were lazy as hell. The only time they spent alone with her involved sex that, most of the time, didn't do anything for her. It was the reason she'd broken up with both of them within a year.
"No," she answered firmly, meaning it, "it doesn't."
He took that in, clutching the steering wheel. "It should bother you, darlin'."
It was the second time he'd called her that, meaning he had to have some kind of interest in her. For some reason, he didn't want to let things happen as they should, keeping himself distant and apart. She didn't know why, but she wasn't going to let him dodge her anymore.
"Don't tell me what should and shouldn't bother me. I'm a big girl, and I can make up my own mind. If that's the problem, I can tell you the age difference doesn't matter to me. It's just a number."
"You also don't know anything about me."
That much was true, but she wanted to. "Then tell me all about you."
His gaze darted to her, his fingers gripping the wheel tighter. "I'm not sure I should."
"You don't sprout fur and howl at the moon once a month, do you? Or go around drinking people's blood? If not, I think I'm good." Her attempt at humor worked. She could see him trying not to grin. "I don't frighten easily."
"I don't do that, but I can be beastly on occasion."
About the Author...
Aline Hunter has written stories featured in horror magazines, zombie romance anthologies, and flash fiction contests. Her work has a dark undertone, which she credits to her love of old horror films, tastes in music, and choices in reading, and has been described as “full of sensual promise,” “gritty and sexy,” and “a breath of fresh air.”
Greyson Till never found a weapon he didn’t like. As the immortal Master Gunner of a pirate ship, he’s grown his collection for over two hundred years. So when a legendary cursed blade that can cut through any material goes missing from the government’s paranormal artifact vault, he’s eager to retrieve it. Working with the secret division Department 13 has always come with its set of challenges, but this one is the worst yet.
Along with the mission comes fiery, no-nonsense paranormal weapons expert Aura Henderson, who couldn't be less thrilled about this pairing. The last time they saw each other, Greyson accidentally blew her cover, almost killing them both. Worst of all, to get the sword, she has to pose as Greyson's wife. The last thing she needs is to get involved with a sexy grumbly pirate, whether in reality or just pretend.
When they locate the relic, the gilded blade thirsts for blood and things aren’t what they seem. Greyson isn’t sure who to trust anymore, and he’s not about to let death come between them...
Each book in the Sentinels of Savannah series is STANDALONE.
Lisa Kessler is a Best Selling author of dark paranormal fiction. She's a two-time San Diego Book Award winner for Best Published Fantasy-Sci-fi-Horror and Best Published Romance. Her books have also won the PRISM award, the Award of Excellence, the National Excellence in Romantic Fiction Award, the Award of Merit from the Holt Medallion, and an International Digital Award for Best Paranormal.
Her short stories have been published in print anthologies and magazines, and her vampire story, Immortal Beloved, was a finalist for a Bram Stoker award.
When she's not writing, Lisa is a professional vocalist, and has performed with San Diego Opera as well as other musical theater companies in San Diego.
Gale's engagement is off because she refuses to leave her thriving business in Ireland to follow Dillon to Scotland. Her family and friends are on the emerald isle. Yet, when Dillon returns with the whole story and asks for her help, she must follow her heart.
Becoming a Solicitor, then partner in the family law firm was never Dillon's dream. Now it's his nightmare. Called to Scotland, his father demands he take his rightful place in the firm or be disowned and disinherited. Something is terribly amiss in the firm and family.
During Gale and Dillon's investigation, they discover the enforcer for the Demon Overlord is also delving into rumors the firm is acting illegally. Magic has been stolen, someone is being blackmailed, and a member of the Witch's council is corrupt. If Gale and Dillon want a life together in Ireland, they have to unearth secrets threatening to destroy the firm and family in Scotland.
With the majestic Rocky Mountains just outside the window, I sit at my computer with vampires,demons, witches, faeries, and a variety of paranormal creatures gathered around telling me their stories! That makes me an author of paranormal romance novels and cozy mysteries with magic spark. The everyday world is mundane, but sprinkle a little magic and you have fantastic!
Colorado is home. I share my life with a wonderful husband of many moons, our brilliant Chow Chow, a terribly spoiled companion parrot, and a forty-year-old box turtle. We enjoy hiking, biking, and camping, also love water sports including kayaking and whitewater rafting, especially on the Arkansas River through the Royal Gorge.
Another passion of mine is reading a good novel. You can find me any winter evening curled up in front of a crackling fire with a good book, a mug of hot chocolate, and a big bowl of popcorn. While growing up, if I didn’t like the ending of a book, I’d rewrite it, which led to writing my own books.
Reluctantly, I discovered that in real life it’s tough to rewrite an ending.
What do you believe in? You have power, but what will you use it for?
Hunted down by Vincent Reznick’s henchman, Nora Youngblood is forced to flee the only home she’s ever known, while the life of Aidan, the boy she loves, hangs in the balance.
Nora and the wizard, Malachi, escape to Aeraileas seeking the help of the Ashwaken, a council of powerful wizards. But before she can complete their mission, Reznick tracks her down, and she finds herself thrust into a world she knows nothing about.
Throughout her journey there, Nora learns to be strong and face danger head-on. With newfound determination, she must find the next piece of the Morrigan, a powerful weapon, before Reznick can, and risk everything, including her life, to save Aidan, her friends, and the people of her world.
When Nora Youngblood's father dies on her sixteenth birthday, it's the end of everything she ever knew. But a new journey begins with a skull-shaped pocket watch - the last gift from her father, a professor of archaeology. Where did this mysterious trinket come from, and why would a warlock named Kabos now be hunting her for it?
Nora, now an orphan, finds protection under a wizard named Malachi, his handsome apprentice, Aidan, and a brother she never knew she had. As she learns the truth about her family's mysterious past, Nora seeks to uncover the secret of the skull, which leads to both a powerful and dangerous weapon.
With the fate of the skull in her hands, she's lured into the hidden world of Dubhgail to combat the treacherous Kabos - who has kidnapped her brother.
Can she sacrifice herself to save her brother and her friends? In this fantasy novel, a teenage girl discovers her magical heritage and soon finds herself facing the might of an evil warlock in another world.
A.M. Albaugh is a photographer, writer, programmer, and lifelong learner. She takes her research for writing maybe a little too seriously - she hiked Trolltunga (Norway) in snow, sleet, and rain, took a Krav Maga class, and started rock climbing again but broke her ankle. She is a member of The International Women's Writing Guild and is currently writing the next book in the Grim Nora series.
