Saturday, November 29, 2014

Here Comes Trouble by A.E. Via

I am happy to host my friend, A.E. Via, on the blog today! Here is her latest release!


Detectives Mark Ruxsberg and Chris Green are very good at their jobs. Being the enforcers for God and Day's notorious Atlanta PD Narcotics Task Force causes the crazy duo to get into more trouble than they can often get out of. The pair never misses out on an opportunity to drive their Lieutenants crazy with their dangerous, reckless, and costly stunts, landing them in the hot seat in front God... often.

Ruxs and Green love their jobs and they don't mind the very demanding schedule that leaves them little time for socializing or dating. It was fine with them, they enjoyed hanging out with each other anyway. 

However, most of the men in their close circle of friends and colleagues are pairing off and settling down. God has Day, Ro has Johnson, and their Sergeant Syn has Furious. 

For the past several years, Ruxs has only sought out the advice and company of one person, his partner and best friend Green, and vice versa. Both of these alpha males are presumed straight, but neither can deny the heat that's building in their once 'just friends' relationship.


At the first touch of Green’s hands to Ruxs’ lower back had him jumping against it. “Shh. Relax, Mark. It’s okay,” Green whispered. He could see the frown-line between Ruxs’ closed eyes.
“Just breathe in deep,” he said while smoothing his palms in an outward motion against the firm muscles. His touch was light at first. Simply letting the aromas permeate through his system to relax him. When he saw the creases began to smooth out on Ruxs’ handsome face, Green began to use his palm over palm technique, rotating in circular motions on one side of his spine and then over to the other. When he started driving out the strain by using a palm on either side of his spine and driving up to his neck. Ruxs began to moan quietly.
Oh god. He’d never heard him sound so relieved.
“Chris,” Ruxs groaned.
“I know it feels good. Relax, I got you,” Green said softly against Ruxs’ ear. He felt Ruxs’ hips flex under him and he wondered for a second if he was putting too much weight on his thighs. So he rose up some and rubbed more oil and began to focus on Ruxs’ broad shoulders. He worked his palms and knuckles into the knots until he couldn’t feel them anymore. Ruxs’ breathing was heavy, almost panting. He should be more relaxed by now. He’d been massaging for over thirty minutes. If it was him, he’d probably be sleep already, but Ruxs seemed to be getting even more anxious. Damnit.
“Come on, man. Try to calm down.” Green leaned in again. He pressed his chest against Ruxs’ slick back and felt him take a stuttering breath. He spoke in the most calming tone his deep voice could muster. “Hey. Shhh. Breathe deep for me. You’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna get through this, man. I’m not going to ever let you go through anything alone. You have me, always.”
Oh my fuckin’ god. He’s killing me. Ruxs tried to take a deep breath but he couldn’t. Green probably thought he was losing his mind or still freaking out about his mom. But Ruxs was struggling with the enormous amount of passion coursing through his body. Green was all over him, pressing that solid chest into his back, pushing him deliciously into the plush mattress with all that brawn, and oh god, it felt so good – too good. He struggled to breathe, not because he was stressed, it was because his sensitive nipples were hard and aching to be flicked, and his cock was like steel trapped beneath him, throbbing and pulsing with every strong stroke Green pushed into his muscles.
Green’s voice was deep and soothing as he tried – to no avail – to calm him. Only thing that would work is if Ruxs flipped over and Green let him rut against him like a wild beast until he came with a roar.

A.E. Via is still a fairly new author in the beautiful gay erotic genre. Her writing embodies everything from spicy to scandalous. Her stories often include intriguing edges and twists that take readers to new, thought-provoking depths.
When she’s not clicking away at her laptop, she devotes herself to her family—a husband and four children, her two pets, a Maltese dog and her white Siamese cat, ELynn, named after the late, great gay romance author E. Lynn Harris.
While this is only her sixth novel, she has plenty more to come. So stalk her – she loves that - because the male on male action is just heating up!
Go to A.E. Via’s official website for more detailed information on how to contact her, follow her, or a sneak peak on upcoming work, free reads, and where she’ll appear next.


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Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Kiss My Ash by Renee George

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Author Name: Renee George
Author Bio: Multi-published, best-selling author Renee George has been a factory worker, an army medic, a nurse, a website designer, a small press editor, an artist, and a teacher, but writing stories about sexy alpha men is the BEST job she's ever had. When she turned thirty, she went back to college and earned her BA in creative writing. She has been married to the love of her life, a wonderful man who supports in every way, for over half her life (and that is a VERY long time!). She happily lives in a small, Midwest town with her husband, two needy dogs and a very independent cat. Anything else you want to know, just ask. She’ll give you all the nitty gritty dirt.
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Publisher: Ellora’s Cave
A werewolf who’s hairless in full shift.
A water sprite who can’t hold his shape at the slightest touch of water.
An ash-tree nymph with a black thumb who kills every bit of flora in her vicinity.
That’s Fortunate, Missouri, in a nutshell—the town for abnormal paranormals. Nymph Romy, however, can one-up them all—her particular flaw is killing her. But thanks to a possible love spell, the wolf and the water sprite could be Romy’s key to cheating death. And the three misfits may find that even imperfect creatures can still create a sexy, loving, perfect union.
Inside Scoop:  Sol, Romy and Lucien love each other—emotionally, spiritually and physically. Which means both ménage and male/male action. You lucky reader, you.
A Romantica® paranormal erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

Categories: Bisexual, Erotica, Fantasy, Fiction, Menage/Poly, Paranormal, Romance

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this site.
An Excerpt From: KISS MY ASH
Copyright © RENEE GEORGE, 2014
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Mathias was a korrigan, a fairy dwarf, and to his detriment, he’d been born male. An abomination amongst the korrigans, who were always female. Even his own mother had wanted him dead, but you can’t kill an immortal.
When he finally strolled out from behind the counter, his height no more than four feet, he held a red clay pot filled to the brim with a dark, loamy soil. Carefully, he handed it to Romy. “Here.”
She stepped away. “And what the hell am I supposed to do with dirt?” Maybe Mathias was tired of her bringing back dead plant after dead plant. It didn’t matter how much she watered the damn things, fed them, or even talked to them—none survived. She’d stopped giving them names after a while, awash with guilt and shame over each death.
His red eyes sparkled with excitement. “In this soil, there is a very special seed, my girl. Very rare and unique. I’m entrusting you with its care.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. There is no way in hell I’m taking on a ‘rare and unique’ plant. No. No. No. Give me a hardy shrub or weed. Better yet, maybe a cabbage. I won’t feel so bad about a cabbage when it croaks.”
Romy was a dryad; specifically, an ash tree nymph. Which meant, in theory, plants should flourish around her, but she couldn’t even keep her own tree alive. Her mother had postulated it had something to do with the sperm donor, aka Romy’s biological father, but the elder dryad had refused to say more on the subject. Tree nymphs were traditionally a love-’em-and-leave-’em race of females. They didn’t get involved with beings they considered no more than means to an end. Males born to tree nymphs always developed into the same race as the male halves of the couplings, while the females were always dryads.
Unfortunately, something had gone very wrong in the making of Romy. It hadn’t taken long after the dryad equivalent of puberty set in before her people had decided she was toxic.
She pushed the pot back to Mathias. “Uh-uh. You’ve seen my track record.”
When her “birth defect” had eventually started to affect the trees of her forest six months ago, Romy had been summarily kicked out by the other dryads. Of course, her people had called it a “long, extended respite” and sent her to the town of Fortunate, Missouri.
The moniker, over the years, had become a joke. The town had been named after the Fortunate Isles, also called the Isles of the Blessed, and had been used for more than two hundred years as a dumping ground for the “paranormally challenged”. Those who didn’t fit in with their own kind were sent to Fortunate to finish out their days. For immortals like Mathias, the end of days was a long-ass time.
For Romy, well…without a tree to tend, she wouldn’t live another year, the chlorophyll drying in her veins. The plants were test subjects for her, to see if she could sustain life. So far, they’d served only to help ease the ache of dying. But as far as tending plants and making them flourish, she failed constantly.
For Mathias to trust her with a “special” plant…no way was she taking on that kind of responsibility.
It was one thing to kill a common houseplant, but a whole ’nother thing to be responsible for something “rare and unique”. Was Mathias crazy? Romy shook her head again. “I can’t. Don’t you have an air plant or something? Hell, those suckers don’t even require watering.”
He patted her hands, his fingers soothing and gentle. “Ah, but my dear, I hope this may be the answer to—”
Mathias’ explanation was cut off by a barking baritone. “Ah, shit!”
Romy put the pot on the counter as she scooted around Mathias to see who the unfamiliar voice belonged to.
In the greenhouse area beyond the main shop, two long, well-muscled legs and a firm ass, all packaged in perfectly tight jeans, stood nestled between two rows of plants.
“Hello,” Romy said.
The owner of the legs and ass straightened, making him a foot taller than Romy. And oh goddess, did he have an upper body and face to go with the lower half—thickly muscled chest and broad shoulders crowned by a face with bow lips, a Roman nose and the brightest green eyes. All framed by messy, shiny black hair that fell about his shoulders. It was as if the gods had decided to create perfection.
Ridiculous though—they would never do that. But hot damn, they’d come pretty close.
“Uh, hello yourself,” he said back, dusting his palms against his jeans.
His really low voice, which would have better suited a grizzly bear, sent a humming through Romy that made her body sing.
“What have you done now, Lucien?” Mathias asked when he walked into the back. His presence was enough to break the harmony, and Romy snapped out of her new-guy-induced daze.
“What a great name.” She smiled. It made her feel foolish, but she couldn’t punch down the giddiness.
“It’s a name.” He shrugged then leaned over again, which gave Romy another clear shot of his fabulous ass. When he stood once more, he held a small plant, cradling the roots carefully. He looked at Mathias. “I broke the pot, but the fern is fine.”
Lucien had a slight accent, but Romy couldn’t put her finger on the origin. If possible, it made the young man even more exotic and mysterious.
Mathias shook his head, making his red beard sweep his chest. “Where’s Sol?”
“I’m here!” Sol Winter, who’d been working for Mathias long before Romy had moved to Fortunate, stepped out from behind the last row of plants. He wore a baby-blue polo shirt that matched his light-blue eyes. It also complemented his tan, a deep golden bronze. Natural, according to him. Strange for an elf, but who was Romy to judge? His long blond hair was pulled into a ponytail. He often wore it down and spilling over his shoulders, but generally had it tied back for work.
Sol was taller than Lucien by several inches and a little broader. His smile brightened when he saw Romy. “Hey, you.” His mouth turned down in sympathy. “Kill another one?”
They’d had a strange relationship ever since Romy had arrived in Fortunate, which generally involved spirited banter and sarcasm. Even when the conversation turned a little mean, Romy was still thankful for Sol. He was the closest thing she had to a friend.
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Nice.” He raised a brow. “Bitchy much?”
Even though she was certain Sol was gay, it didn’t stop her from having some wicked fantasies about him. After all, the man was hot-hot and knew how to dress. “Takes one to know one.”
“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the oak this morning.” Sol scooped a handful of topsoil and pitched it at her.
“Oh no you didn’t.” In retaliation, Romy grabbed a nearby hose and squeezed the nozzle trigger, dowsing Sol where he stood.
“Stop!” Lucien yelled.
Too late. At Lucien’s shout, Romy turned, the spray of water slapping across the man’s face—and Lucien instantly melted into a clear puddle on the greenhouse floor.
Mortified, she dropped the hose. “Oh no!” She shook her head and stumbled forward. “What have I done?” Not only was she a plant killer, apparently she was a man killer as well.
Two lips formed in the clear pool. “I’m fine. Really.”

Words: 27,000

Tour Dates: November 26

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