• Skip to primary navigation
  • Skip to main content
  • Skip to primary sidebar
Adriana Kraft

Adriana Kraft

When it's time to heat things up...

  • Home
  • About Adriana
  • Books
  • Blog
  • Privacy Policy

Erotic Romance

Release Blitz! Love Beneath the Stars, by Claerie Kavanaugh #Contemporary #F/F #Romance #Giveaway

April 27, 2023 by Adriana Kraft

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Love Beneath the Stars: A Matchmaker Wedding Novella

Author: Claerie Kavanaugh

Publisher: Half Caff Press

Cover Artist: Lauren Dombrowski

Release Date: April 26, 2023

Genres: Contemporary F/F Romance

Tropes: Age gap, celebrity, matchmaker, wedding

Themes: Coming out, forgiveness

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 30 000 words

It is a standalone story in the Entertaining Love series.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

They say love conquers all, but what if getting it means losing your family?

Blurb

After years of searching, a job gone wrong finally led Hollywood’s most famous matchmaker Eve to her soulmate in up-and-coming starlet Jemma Mason. For a year, they had pictured their perfect destination Valentine’s Day wedding. But when Jemma’s family arrives from Montana, they quickly learn perfection is hard to come by.

Jemma’s conservative brother has always been distant, but when he meets his sister’s fiancée, who is seven years her senior, he worries she’s moving way too fast and refuses to come to the wedding, let alone keep his promise to walk her down the aisle. Can love really conquer all, or are there some wounds that simply run too deep to be buried?

Eve and Jemma’s Wedding Novella. Sequel to LOVE AMONG THE STARS in the standalone sapphic celebrity romance series ENTERTAINING LOVE.

Excerpt

When I turn to face Eve, she’s sitting more fully upright, concern etched across her beautiful features. “What’s wrong?”

“Apparently, a storm is coming,” Despondence drips from my words as I sink, onto the edge of the bed. “They want us to stay inside.”

Eve climbs out of the covers and wraps her arms around me. “We’ll be alright, Jemma. We’re together, and that’s all that matters.”

Her confidence is contagious, and I can’t help but smile. “You always know how to make me feel better, don’t you?”

“Of course.” She grins, kissing my cheek. “Now, let’s make the most of this unexpected day indoors.”

We spend the morning lounging in bed, sipping coffee and flipping through the cable channels on the TV. But as the wind outside picks up, so does our restlessness.

“Let’s play a game,” Eve suggests, sitting up and stretching her toned arms above her head.

“What kind of game?” I ask, intrigued.

She smirks devilishly. “Strip poker.”

My stomach flips at the thought of being naked in front of her, but I can’t deny the thrill that pulses through me. “You’re on.”

We grab a deck of cards from the nightstand and settle in on the plush carpet, the sound of the wind howling outside echoing in my ears. As the game progresses, clothing is discarded, and as Eve tosses her shirt onto the pile, I can’t help but let my eyes roam over her gorgeous curves and her smooth golden skin. A flush spreads across my cheeks as I drink her in

Eve smirks, arching an eyebrow. “Enjoying the view?”

I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. “Very much so,” I reply, a slightly wanton rasp dancing at the edges of my words.

She crawls over to me on all fours, her eyes locked onto mine. “Why don’t you come a little closer?” I oblige, leaning in towards her, my heart pounding. She presses her body against mine, her skin hot against my own. My breath hitches as she trails her fingers down my spine, sending shivers through my body. I tangle my fingers in her hair, pulling her lips to mine. The kiss is electric, fire burning through my veins. I break away, gasping for air.

About the Author

Claerie Kavanaugh has spent most of her life telling stories, but she never imagined herself writing romance. In fact, she used to think it should only be reserved for Hallmark movies. It wasn’t until college, when she discovered fanfiction, that she learned what romance was truly about: not just fluffy relationships and happily-ever-afters, but human connection, the desire to push one another to be better, and create hope that somewhere, somehow, everyone has someone.

When she’s not writing, she loves to travel and explore new cultures, helping other authors polish their works as a freelance editor, and singing while doing so. Broadway musicals are her soul-food, something her mother and sister know well. She constantly blasts the newest soundtrack through the halls of their Missouri home, much to the chagrin of her very sassy and spoiled cat.

 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website | Facebook | Instagram | Newsletter Sign-up

Giveaway

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

one of 5 ebook copies of Love Beneath the Stars

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions



Share this:

  • Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
  • More
  • Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
  • Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
  • Click to share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon

Like this:

Like Loading...

Filed Under: Blog, Contests, Guest Bloggers, LGBT Tagged With: age gap, Celebrity, Coming out, Contemporary F/F Romance, forgiveness, Giveaway, matchmaker, wedding

“Why are you here?” #OutNow #MFRWHooks #EroticRomance

April 26, 2023 by Adriana Kraft

Her passion smolders – will it ignite?

Welcome to MFRW Hooks, where the authors of Marketing for Romance Writers share snippets from their stories to entice you into wanting more. Be sure to click on the links at the end to travel!

SMOLDERING PASSION
PASSION SERIES BOOK ONE

OUT NOW!

BUY LINK

https://books2read.com/u/3nDdOe

Set Up: Barely awake the morning after a big blowup with Harry, Melissa answers her door wearing only her bathrobe. But it isn’t Harry – it’s the Center’s other co-director.

EXCERPT

Melissa couldn’t prevent a frown. “Why are you here, Claire?”

Appearing a little sheepish, Claire said, “I guess telling you I was in the neighborhood will hardly work, because I haven’t been to Brooklyn since I was a little girl. And that was a ways back.”

Melissa couldn’t suppress a giggle. “So you’re one of those Manhattan ethnocentrics.”

“Uh-huh.”

Melissa clasped her hands at her waist, resolved to wait out the ensuing silence.

“Okay.” Claire inhaled and exhaled before continuing. “I want you to sketch me.”

“Really? I’m honored.” Melissa’s pulse quickened. Her fingers ached. It would be good to work again. This might be exactly what she needed.

“You’ll do it?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I’m talking about one of your tasteful erotic type drawings. Me in the nude.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to be sketched wearing a business suit.”

“I am fifty-seven.”

Melissa scowled. “Do I care? Maybe we can come up with something that will inspire fifty and sixty-year-olds to pose for erotic drawings. Let me change and I’ll be right back.”

“No,” Claire said, grabbing her hand. She hesitated momentarily before adding, “I don’t want to wait. Surely, you must sketch or paint from time to time wearing only a robe.”

“Of course.” Melissa tugged on Claire’s hand. “Come on, and I’ll show you my studio.

“As you can see, it’s not much,” she said, leading Claire into her favorite room. “A couch, easy chair, desk, which is my workspace and which also substitutes as a prop sometimes. And of course lots of art supplies.”

“And beautiful sketches and paintings,” Claire intoned, as if they were standing in a church or a museum. “You are extremely talented. We really must set up a show for you through the Center.”

“So do you have a particular medium or pose in mind?”

“No, you’re the artist. I see you have a music center.” She reached into her shopping bag, withdrew a CD, and handed it to Melissa. “Do you mind playing this? It’s one of my favorites from the seventies. It will embolden me.”

“No problem. Though I would never have guessed you needed anything to strengthen your resolve.” Melissa peeked at the label. “Helen Reddy. I like her stuff.”

“Thought maybe it’d be too old-fashioned for you. I’m glad you like it. She throbs with heat.”

BOOK INFORMATION

Title: Smoldering Passion
Passion Series, Book One
Can be read as a stand-alone
Author: Adriana Kraft
Publisher: eXtasy Books
Publication Date: April 7, 2023
ISBN 978-1-4874-3815-9
Length: 70,259 words
Genres: Erotic Romance, LGBT Romance
Pairings: MF, FF, FFF, FMF, MFM

Tags: Contemporary, Menage, Bisexual, New York City, struggling artist, age gap
Heat rating: four flames

BLURB

Her passion smolders. Will it ignite?

When art student Melissa Hopkins finally unpacks the two boxes her Aunt Phoebe left for her and sees Phoebe’s black and white photos, it’s like opening Pandora’s Box. A simple quest to find a new job morphs into an about face—not just in her art, but in her career and personal life. Short on funds now that her graduate stipend is ending, she applies to work where Aunt Phoebe once worked: a center for sexuality and sex studies.

Sworn off women after a disastrous relationship, Center Director Harry Gage ignores the danger signals and hires the striking young woman who reminds him of his former lover. Her air of innocence will captivate center viewers, so he’s sure she’ll be a hit on camera. What he’s not prepared for is how she pierces his heart.

When the sparks flare up, is it love or just sex—and what must each of them risk to find out?

Don’t miss the rest of today’s enticing book hooks – click on the links to travel!

Share this:

  • Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
  • More
  • Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
  • Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
  • Click to share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon

Like this:

Like Loading...

Filed Under: Blog, Erotic Romance, Excerpts, LGBT, Menage Tagged With: age gap, bisexual, Contemporary, erotic romance, ménage, New York City, Struggling artist

A pair of delightful reads! Books by @TinaDonahue and @JessSavage11 #EroticRomance #BookReview

April 24, 2023 by Adriana Kraft

Love reading about threesomes? Me too, and most of the stories my husband and I write together under this pen name feature threesomes (and even a few more-somes).

But I’m also an avid reader, and recently I’ve read a pair of threesome stories that you won’t want to miss.

Ever egalitarian, I will let you know ahead of time that one of these stories features two men and one woman, and the other, two women and one man. Since they’re both romances, I’m giving nothing away by saying there’s a happy ending for all – including the reader!

Anything you Want by Tina Donahue

MFM Erotic Romance

REVIEW: Like many writers, I’m basically a shy nerd, and best selling author Tina Donahue confesses to the same in her bio. Her latest release, Anything You Want, features three shy nerds in a sumptuous and luscious story set in a tropical hedonistic resort. Oh, and two of those shy nerds? They’re tall, handsome, and billionaires. A completely yummy why-choose MFM romp – and there’s chocolate.

5 stars

My review on Goodreads

BUY LINK

Universal Buy Link: https://books2read.com/u/mYxJ0w

 

Good in the Zak by Jess Savage

MFF Erotic Romance

REVIEW: Picture this: you’ve had a massive crush on your brother’s best friend as long as you can remember, but he’s been off limits because he’s practically family. Now you’ve just finished college, that friend is a TV star, he just got married, and he hires you to keep an eye on his new wife while he’s on a shoot in Canada and she’s on the Mexican Riviera in a shoot of her own.

And you fall in love with the wife.

A recipe for disaster? Or a recipe for a delicious fast-paced romcom that somehow creates a happy ending for all concerned?

I fell in love with this book and will definitely be back for more from author Jess Savage. The perfect amount of angst, craziness, steam, conflict, deceit, and surprise.

5 stars

My Review on GoodReads

BUY LINK

Free to Read on Amazon KU

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08HXB8R1L

 

Share this:

  • Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
  • More
  • Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
  • Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
  • Click to share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon

Like this:

Like Loading...

Filed Under: Adriana's Library, Blog, Erotic Romance, Menage Tagged With: billionaires, Chocolate, erotic romance, Hedonistic Resort, m/f/m, Mexican Riviera, MFF, Threesome, TV Star

Out now! Pinned, by Liz Faraim @FaraimLiz #Giveaway #LGBTQ

April 22, 2023 by Adriana Kraft

Pinned - Liz Faraim
Liz Faraim has a new lesbian mystery thriller out: Pinned. And there’s a giveaway.

“Rowdy” Randy Cox, a woman staring down the barrel of retirement, is a curmudgeonly blue-collar butch lesbian, who has been single for twenty years and is trying to date again.

At the end of a long, exhausting shift, Randy finds her supervisor, Bryant, pinned and near death at the warehouse where they work. Upon the news of his death, she battles to find a balance between the joys of an exciting new relationship and the struggles of processing her supervisor’s unexpected passing.

The manner of her supervisor’s death leaves Randy unsettled and suspicious as she gets sucked into both a criminal investigation led by the police and an administrative investigation conducted by her employer.

As Randy seeks the truth, trust erodes, key friendships are strengthened, and more loss awaits her.

Warnings: violence, cancer death.

Publisher | Amazon | Universal Buy Link

Goodreads


Giveaway

Liz is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47198/?


Excerpt

“Yeah. You wanna ride the canyon?” Bear asked as she ran her fingers through her wild salt-and-pepper hair. Buck and I both nodded. I stowed my snacks and slid on my helmet.

“Okay. Everybody’s all gassed up, right? Last gas station before the canyon is at the casino.”

“We’re good. Filled up before crossing the causeway. Now stand back,” Bear said as she did a Jackie Gleason style windup before hoisting her short leg over the saddle of her bike.

We’d ridden many miles together and I was happy to see that her bike, a massive 1600cc Road Star, which she had lovingly named Champagne, was still on the road.

Buck fired up her Harley with a bone rattling rumble. I reminded myself to ride in front of her. When I rode behind her the engine noise was too much. I paired up the Bluetooth and Spotify again and picked a 1980s hits channel. Van Morrison sang to me about tupelo honey as I pulled out behind Bear, with Buck taking sweep behind us.

As we rolled slowly by PJ’s, the checker was walking out of the front door, gazing down at her cell phone. She looked up just in time to knock me out one more time with her bright eyes and toothy smile, making my heart race. I had to force myself to focus back on riding as we pulled out of the parking lot onto the main road.

We dodged big groups of college kids on bicycles as we passed through intersections until Dairy Glen turned back into farmland. Long, ramrod-straight county roads that ran between tomato and sunflower fields took us to the next county. The coastal mountains rose in the distance, the only thing to break up the scenery of the flat valley floor except for the occasional barn, well pump, or windmill.

Before long the three of us were weaving our way through the green rolling hills of Capay Valley, the two-lane road gently curving around orchards and dormant row crop fields. I saw some farms with livestock, including a few llamas and emu. We passed through the small towns of Madison, Esparto, and Capay.

Around the bend we got to Brooks, where the small farmhouses gave way to the casino, looming large, overlooking vineyards and the foothills. A massive banner strung across the front advertised an upcoming big-name concert. After the casino we passed through Guinda, and the road narrowed further as the terrain changed from wide-open valley floor to canyon, with steep wooded hillsides. The temperature dropped several degrees in the shade of the hills.

I did my best to stay focused on the ride and the road, but the heart-stopping smile I had gotten earlier in Dairy Glen, those blue eyes locked on mine, were a big distraction. I hadn’t given any woman a second look in years, let alone have one get my heart and mind racing.

Bear cruised along, never in a hurry, taking the curves with ease. I checked my side mirror now and then to make sure Buck was still with us, her aftermarket exhaust pipes echoing through the narrow canyon. There were hardly any other vehicles on the canyon road, though we did pass a few packs of cyclists decked out in spandex, riding fancy road bikes. As we rolled by a group of bikes on a steep climb, I watched one guy’s chiseled leg muscles working hard to pedal. The lady in front of him blew a snot rocket over her shoulder and he didn’t even flinch. I was glad to have an engine between my legs and opened the throttle to climb the last bit of the hill.

At the top of the hill, we zoomed by another gaggle of cyclists, resting after their climb. They were all off their bikes, panting and sweating even in the cold. One lady was throwing up in the bushes. Her jersey said “Veni, Vidi, Vomiti.” The slogan rattled around in my brain, drawing me back to my father trying to teach me Latin as a kid. I figured it meant something like: I came, I saw, I barfed. Another lady stood by, leaning on her bike frame, totally unbothered, sucking on one of those goo energy tubes.

My fingers and toes had started to go numb from the cold despite wearing thick socks and boots, and winter riding gloves. While on a short, straight stretch I took my eyes off the road again to turn on the heated grips. I pressed the button and looked up just in time to see Bear dump her bike over farther than I thought possible. Champagne, nearly on its side, cut over into the opposite lane and back.

I scanned the road for the hazard and had just enough time to register a small rockslide, scree and baseball-sized chunks of rock bouncing down the steep hillside and onto the road. I spotted a small gap and rode straight through, pebbles pinging off my helmet and shooting out from under my tires. I checked my mirror and watched as Buck, who’d had the most time to respond, swung out wide and avoided the whole thing with little fuss. That was Buck for ya.

Bear parked in a turnout a few hundred yards up the road. I pulled in behind her to catch my breath. I yanked off my helmet and pulled the bandana down off my mouth, heart doing somersaults.

Bear slapped her chest and let out a roar that reverberated through the hills and down the canyon.

“Awooo! Jesus Christ! Did you see that, Randy?”

“I can’t believe you didn’t dump it. That was some fine goddamn riding.”

“Wasn’t my first time, won’t be my last.” She gasped and shook her hands out.

“Good thing you’ve been riding since before you could spell motorcycle.”

We laughed wildly, which helped me relax and steady myself as the adrenaline rush faded. Buck pulled in behind us, tires crunching on gravel, and killed her engine.


Author Bio

Liz Faraim
Liz has a full plate between balancing a day job, parenting, writing, and finding some semblance of a social life. In past lives she has been a soldier, a bartender, a shoe salesperson, an assistant museum curator, and even a driving instructor. She focuses her writing on strong, queer, female leads who don’t back down.

Liz transplanted to California from New York over thirty years ago. She now lives in the East Bay Area of California and enjoys exploring nature with her wife and son.

Author Website: https://www.lizfaraim.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/liz.faraim.9/

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

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/20769735.Liz_Faraim

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

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Liz-Faraim/author/B092YXBXFV

Other Worlds Ink logo

Share this:

  • Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
  • More
  • Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
  • Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
  • Click to share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon

Like this:

Like Loading...

Filed Under: Blog, Contests, Guest Bloggers, LGBT Tagged With: blue collar, butch, curmudgeonly, Giveaway, lesbian, LGBTQ, Mystery, Thriller, Transgender

New Release Blitz: Almost Famous, by Jim Elledge #Giveaway #historical #Gay

April 21, 2023 by Adriana Kraft

Title: Almost Famous

Author: Jim Elledge

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 04/18/2023

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: No Romance, Male/Male

Length: 91900

Genre: Historical, historical, crime, ménage, gay, performance arts, blue collar, criminals, cross-dressing, humorous, law enforcement, lawyers, musicians, religion, sex industry

Add to Goodreads

Description

One steamy June night in 1925, a woman shot an insurance exec to death. After ten women were arrested and, ultimately, released, a late-night tip led police to Norma West. Although she didn’t look like the shooter, the exec’s widow swore Norma was the murderer—just as she had sworn all ten of the other women were her husband’s killer. Police charged her with the crime after her jailor noticed her five o’clock shadow. The DA banked on the jury convicting a “third-sexer,” whether guilty or not.

Missing her gig as a local cabaret chanteuse, Norma acted outrageously, flirting and camping it up with the reporters who stampeded her cell hoping for a scoop. One, Paul Sammy, a straight tabloid hack, decided to write her biography full of lies and half truths, hoping its popularity would give him a leg up at his paper. Drop-dead gorgeous Victor Winchester, who was tired of defending prostitutes for mafia-supported pimps, offered to defend her for the free publicity her clowning—and notoriety—provoked. Norma became a cause célèbre among Chicago’s fairies, flappers, and sheiks; her trial a circus trigged by her antics; and her fate as much a product of Sammy’s fantastical biography as Victor Winchester’s legal hocus-pocus.

Excerpt

Almost Famous
Jim Elledge © 2023
All Rights Reserved

Norma’s first set had gone swell. The audiences at the Cat’s Pajamas liked the jazzier numbers, nothing by Rudy Vallée or any of the sentimental boys. They wanted songs with a bit of oomph and a generous splash of blue.

“I’m a Jazz Vampire” had become her signature number, and she knocked them out earlier tonight when she let down her hair and growled:

It’s easy to see.

Try as they might to fight it,

the men swarm after me.

I never leave them unkissed

’cause none can resist

aaaaaa jazz vampire.

She swung her hips. Her bosoms followed all on their own. Caught by the spotlight, the silver beads on the black fabric of her dress glittered like the Milky Way.

But now, in the tiny room the women performers used, one after another, as a dressing room, she took a breather between sets. Dressing room. What a laugh. A broom closet came closer to describing it. She hung her dresses on one of the nails in the wall to her left. Two sawhorses with a board across them and a scrap of mirror leaning against the wall served as a vanity. A naked light bulb with a pull chain dangled from the ceiling over the board. Class. Real class.

At least she had a stage and an audience.

The P.J. Orchestra blared as another woman belted out a number. Orchestra. That’s about as funny as dressing room. But that’s what they called themselves, an orchestra. Norma thought a four-piece band was too skimpy for such a grandiose word. Still, they were as good as it got in a joint like the Cat’s Pajamas. The boys kept up with all the hits, too, and had all of Marion Harris’s numbers down pat. She covered the star’s biggest hits, like “I’m Nobody’s Baby” and “I Ain’t Got Nobody,” and a few by other recording artists in her first set. She liked to strut to Mamie Smith’s “You Can’t Keep a Good Man Down,” adding “but I can sure keep him up” here and there to Smith’s lyrics. Norma always made a song her own.

Her favorite songs told the same story with minor differences: a woman aches for her man, but he’s not around, and she suspects he’s romancing another woman. Sometimes she kills the other woman. Sometimes she kills the man. She’s always caught, tried, convicted, and sings about her sorry state while locked up on death row.

But her audiences—all men with, sometimes, a handful of women—wanted the rawer songs that lent themselves to all sorts of boob-and-butt twists. They ate it up in healthy portions, with a spoon.

Norma adored all the women who sang their hearts out on the radio and on records, all jazz-filled, jazz-lived. Except for one. She hated everything that bitch Fanny Brice sang. Fanny! Why not call yourself Assy Brice or Butty Brice? That would make as much goddamned sense as Fanny!

Norma sang two sets each of the nights that she worked, Wednesdays and Thursdays, from nine o’clock to ten and again eleven to midnight. Bigger names than hers took over the stage on Fridays and Saturdays. Between her sets, other acts kept the customers entertained. They were all singers too, of course. Solos, duets, trios—all accompanied by the orchestra: a piano, trumpet, clarinet, and drums. After finishing her last set, she and the other legit acts scrammed, and strippers took over the stage until closing at four o’clock. She always tried to leave shortly after midnight. Bernie, the stage manager, never even tries to hide his leer when he tells her good night. What would she want with small fry like him? When she goes fishing, she trawls for the big boys with the big jobs and the bigger bank accounts. A real three-course meal, that’s what she called them, not a snack like Bernie.

Besides, she needed to hurry home. She had Frank to take care of.

And Jenny.

A pitiful excuse for a man, Frank didn’t know how to take a piss on his own. He called himself an automobile mechanic but hadn’t worked in ten years. Maybe longer. Jenny wasn’t much better. Helpless, the both of them. Like babes in the woods. That’s the real reason they were with her. Norma had no illusions about relationships. You had to get something out of being with someone, or why bother? She paid the rent, fed them, clothed them, and got them out of the apartment for fresh air once in a while. If she wasn’t in their lives, God knows where they would be. Frank in a grave. Jenny knocked up, more than once by now, diseased, and on her way to the grave too.

Frank was knee-deep in the grave already. Junkies don’t last long. Their skin goes ashen and weird to the touch. Their eyes get dull and blind-like unless the junkie drops heroin in them. That makes them glisten, as vivid as the hallucinations lurking behind them, eager to get out once the needle goes in. Frank would skip a week’s worth of grub without a second thought for half a hypo of the stuff. The morgues were full of junkies. Constellations of track marks covered the obvious, and all-too-often not-so-obvious, places on their bodies. Frank hid his between his balls and asshole.

She saved Frank from dying on the streets years ago. Lucky Frank.

Cute, petite Jenny was a whole other matter, but she got to the point where she took a liking to the stuff, too, and couldn’t resist a needle. Still, you had to hand it to the kid. She kicked the habit cold turkey, even if she almost died in the process. Frank would never be as brave—or as stubborn.

Jenny had a schoolgirl’s charm, even if she hadn’t seen the inside of a classroom for years. Her porcelain skin subtracted a decade off the date on her birth certificate, and she became popular with the type of man who turned into a slobbering pig when she walked into a room wearing a little girl’s ruffled pinafore and a big pink bow in her hair. Plenty of houses would offer a girl with her looks and talent a large cut of what she brought in, not the trifle most girls got, to make sure she didn’t stray to another house, but Jenny didn’t work for any of them anymore.

Not long after they met, Norma took charge, arranging everything for her. Jenny worked the occasional party with big shots from out of town or with city hall’s bigwigs with a penchant for the underage. French. That’s all Norma allowed now. She didn’t want a brat in the apartment, its screams and shitty diapers all over the place, or for Jenny to bleed to death from a botched fix-it. Norma had already invested too much money in her to let that happen. Besides, men paid big bucks for French, as rare in the bedrooms of Chicago’s happily married as a real French whore in its bordellos. Jenny’s ticket these days was French from a schoolgirl. She made a killing. Norma’s cut wasn’t half bad.

Most girls, even the ones in the best houses—those with thick carpets on the floors, a piano in the drawing room, servants in livery—don’t last long either. Junkies and whores: lives that burn bright for a few years, then pft! Despite the legends that ran rampant among the working girls, none had a snowball’s chance in hell of meeting the man of their dreams who would sweep them off their feet, turn a blind eye to their sordid history, and flip the quickie they were having into a honeymoon.

Norma gave Frank and Jenny stability in their lives and a chance to survive in one fashion or another. Sure, she bought Frank his stuff and even experimented once herself. She tried a drop or two in her eyes. The high it gave her with one hand stole her self-control with the other, and that made her vulnerable, an easy target for the cops and the wise guys who were always trying to muscle in on a good thing when they found it. She fought its allure for months.

So what if Jenny still worked? She worked for Norma once a week, maybe twice, and none of that crazy stuff like at other houses. Norma kept her safe. Norma kept all her girls safe.

Norma made all the difference in the world to both of them, but they never showed her an ounce of gratitude. Never a thank-you or a surprise bauble in return, just take, take, take. That’s what you get from a junkie and a whore, a whole truckload of nothing!

And Lord, they fought! They argued day in, day out. One would leave a pair of shoes in the hall, the other would stumble on them and blow up. Or one would snatch up the last slice of cake or pie, and angry words would turn into slaps and tears into bruises. They burned with jealousy when Norma paid the least bit more attention to one than the other. The one who smarted over being ignored would explode into threats and obscenities, and the two were at each other’s throats, fangs and claws bared, fists swinging.

Norma stepped in and reminded each of them about the many times she put him or her into the center of her heart and promised to love and to take care of them, body and soul. She did, too, didn’t she? She never broke a promise. Not to them. Not to anybody.

When either was under the weather, who sat by their bed day and night and, one spoonful of chicken soup after another, nursed them to health?

Her, that’s who.

When she moved from one apartment to another, who let them tag along, never asking either of them to chip in on the rent?

Norma. That’s who.

When she found she had a little extra cash after paying off the utility and grocery bills, the girls’ percentages, and even the cops on the beat, who took them out on the town, one swanky joint after another, and paid for everything?

Norma. Norma. Norma. Nobody else would have bothered.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Jim Elledge has received two Lambda Literary Awards, one for his book-length poem A History of My Tattoo, the other for Who’s Yer Daddy? Gay Writers Celebrate Their Mentors and Forerunners, co-edited with David Groff. His most recent books are Bonfire of the Sodomites, poems about the arson of the UpStairs Lounge; a biography, Henry Darger, Throwaway Boy; and The Boys of Fairy Town: Sodomites, Female Impersonators, Third-Sexers, Pansies, Queers, and Sex Morons in Chicago’s First Century, a history. Almost Famous is his debut novel.

Giveaway

One lucky winner will receive a $50.00 NineStar Press Gift Code!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Share this:

  • Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
  • More
  • Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
  • Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
  • Click to share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon

Like this:

Like Loading...

Filed Under: Blog, LGBT Tagged With: blue collar, crime, criminals, cross-dressing, gay, historical, humorous, law enforcement, lawyers, ménage, musicians, performance arts, religion, sex industry

Chantz, by Tim Rayborn: New queer urban fantasy! #Giveaway

April 20, 2023 by Adriana Kraft

Chantz - Tim Rayborn

Tim Rayborn has a new queer urban fantasy out (bi, lesbian)
Qwyrk Tales book 3: Chantz.

Qwyrk can’t get a break. Spring is springing, but she’s stuck breaking up drunken faery fights as Beltane approaches. She really wants to take things to the next level with her possibly-probably-girlfriend Holly, but she keeps coming down with a chronic case of chickening out.

And now, her best human friend, Jilly Pleeth, has had a rather odd encounter. While attending a concert by her favorite band, the Mystic Wedding Weasels, Jilly was amazed by their enigmatic singer, Chantz. There’s something downright magical about her voice, something so magical that an evil force from outside this world wants her for nefarious reasons. But will Chantz succumb to its lure?

Chantz is the third in a series of four novels about the comic misadventures of a group of misfits at the edge of normal reality in modern northern England, a world of shadows, Nighttime Nasties, eldritch screaming horrors, appalling neo-Shakespearean sonnets, undead corvids, an abundance of verbal sparring, and… Qwyrk is not an elf, all right? They’re just silly!

Universal Buy Link


Giveaway

Tim is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47279/?


Excerpt

Chantz meme - Tim Rayborn
After a few minutes of meandering on campus, she found a rather expansive and tree-filled enclosure marked by a sign reading “Welcome to St. George’s Field.” Seeing as she could lose herself in its trees, this place would suffice. Wandering in, she found herself strolling through a historic cemetery, which appealed to her gothy aesthetic sensibilities. She sat herself down on a stone bench not far from some centuries-old headstones and tried to focus, to think, to something.

She closed her eyes, trying to recall the feeling of the power flowing through her.

“What are you?” she whispered.

For a time, she felt nothing. Sighing in frustration, she opened her eyes. The field was mercifully unpopulated today, so she decided to risk singing a little tune, an old Irish folk song. She couldn’t remember where she’d learned it. She couldn’t remember much of anything before the last couple of years, to be honest. But there it was, stuck in her head, so she called on it.

It was a simple melody with a short verse and a chorus. She didn’t even know all the words, but that didn’t matter. She just sang the bit she knew over and over. It was soothing, comforting, and connected her to something, as if stirring a memory. She closed her eyes again, allowing it to wash over her. For the first time in a while, she formed a genuine smile. Not a big smile, mind you, she did have her reputation to think of, after all.

As she neared the third repeat, something happened. She heard a voice in her head, one that contrasted with her own. It was more like a momentary flash of sound, in a language she didn’t recognize. It didn’t make her stop singing; in fact, she wanted to continue. After she sang another verse or two, and she heard it again, like a call across some great gap. But was it far away in the distance? Or maybe in time?

How does that even make any sense?

Intrigued, she kept singing, but lowered her voice so as not to attract any onlookers. It would be just like someone to come up in the middle of it and ruin the whole experience, with their chattiness and insipid curiosity.

As it turned out, she was indeed interrupted, but not by any passersby who should have been minding their own business. In her mind’s eye, she saw a face. The face of an old woman. She had long, disheveled grey-streaked hair, and her complexion was wan and weathered, with dark shadows under her eyes. There was almost something cool about her. The face was obscured, as if peering through a fog, and Moirin couldn’t gauge its intent. She wasn’t imagining it; her imagination was good, but not this good. The woman opened her mouth as if to say something, but no words emerged, and if she were the one speaking those foreign words, Moirin wouldn’t have understood her, anyway.

The old woman smiled, but it was an odd smile, and not really a happy one, more like sinister grin. She seemed to want something from Moirin. The smile grew bigger and stretched to unnatural proportions. Her eyes began to lighten, not just the pupils, but the whole of her eyes, greying at first and then fading into a milky white.

Moirin’s heart raced. She stopped singing and gasped. Whatever this thing was, she wanted nothing to do with it. She tried to open her eyes, but they were heavy, almost as if she’d been drugged. Her ears seemed to close up, and the world around her disappeared. She shook her head and tried to stand up, but just like her eyes, her legs no longer worked. She started to panic and opened her mouth again, not to sing but to scream, shout for help, something. But no sound escaped.

The face sneered at her, perhaps enjoying her helplessness. It became ever more twisted and grotesque and opened its mouth again, almost in mockery of Moirin’s inability to do so. A low-pitched wailing sounded from the old woman, a mournful call that seemed to portend something awful. It rose in pitch and volume to a full-on cry, a tuneless and wordless plaint that sounded like something out of an older time. It shook Moirin to the core, but the more she heard it, the more it seemed to invite her, to draw her in, even to tempt her. Whatever the ill intent of this creature invading her mind, and however frightening its call, Moirin felt oddly at home. She began to surrender to its lure, to its awful and seductive pull.


Author Bio

Tim Rayborn
Tim Rayborn has written an astonishing number of books over the past several years. He lived in England for quite some time and has a PhD from the University of Leeds, which he likes to pretend means that he knows what he’s talking about. His generous output of written material covers topics such as music, the arts, history, the strange and bizarre, fantasy and sci-fi, and general knowledge.

He’s also an acclaimed musician. He plays dozens of unusual instruments that quite a few people of have never heard of and often can’t pronounce. He has appeared on over forty recordings, and his musical wanderings and tours have taken him across the US, all over Europe, to Canada and Australia, and to such romantic locations as Marrakech, Istanbul, Renaissance chateaux, medieval churches, and high school gymnasiums.

He currently lives in Washington state (where it rains a lot), surrounded by many books and instruments, as well as with a sometimes-demanding cat. He is rather enthusiastic about good wines, and cooking excellent food.

Author Website: https://timrayborn.com/

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/timrayborn

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

Author Mastodon: https://mastodon.social/@timrayborn

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rayborn.esoterica/

Author Liminal Fiction: https://www.limfic.com/?s=tim+rayborn&search_type=book_search

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Tim-Rayborn/author/B00DWY5J8E

Other Worlds Ink logo

Share this:

  • Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
  • More
  • Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
  • Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
  • Click to share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon

Like this:

Like Loading...

Filed Under: Blog, Contests, LGBT Tagged With: Bi, lesbian, new release, Queer, Rom Com, urban fantasy

  • « Go to Previous Page
  • Page 1
  • Interim pages omitted …
  • Page 19
  • Page 20
  • Page 21
  • Page 22
  • Page 23
  • Interim pages omitted …
  • Page 45
  • Go to Next Page »

Primary Sidebar

Follow Adriana

  • Facebook
  • Goodreads
  • Instagram
  • Mastodon
  • Tumblr

Three-way fantasies? Curious about Swinging? Click above for our Swing Lifestyle series.

 

What if three (or more) people fall in love? Click above for our polyamory stories.

 

Looking for one woman, one man, hot sex, and perilous danger? Click above.

REVIEWS


Erotic Romance “Seducing Cat is a Must Read…Hot in all the right places!”


Love Bites and Silk Ties
Romantic Suspense: Mystery and Romance are woven well in The Painter is a Lady.


Romantic Suspense: “The Unmasking is a fascinating tale…some emotionally trying scenes.”


Erotic Romance FFM Menage: “Edgy characters, inclusive sexuality…The Reunion is not for the faint of heart.”


Erotic Romance FFM Menage: “The intimacy is genuine and breathtaking”

Subscribe to Blog via Email

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 1,357 other subscribers

Buy Adriana’s Books

  • Amazon
  • Amazon UK
  • Barnes & Noble
  • Sea to Sky Books

Great Blog Guests!


RABT Book Tours & PR

Goddess Fish Promotions

 

Like and Follow our Author Page at SwingTowns!

If you're curious about polyamory and the swing lifestyle, Swing Towns is a great place to check it all out!

Request an Authorgraph!

Categories

  • A Day in Adriana's Life
  • Adriana's Library
  • Blog
  • Boomers
  • Contests
  • Erotic Romance
  • Excerpts
  • Guest Bloggers
  • Health & Fitness
  • Interviews
  • LGBT
  • Menage
  • More About Adriana
  • Romantic Suspense
  • Stay Healthy
  • Stay Sexy
  • Stay Sexy ~ Stay Healthy
  • Swing Lifestyle
  • Toys Etc.
  • Uncategorized
Find Books on Romance Lives Forever

Contact Adriana

Want to get in touch? Click here to send us an email.
Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy

Copyright © 2025 · Genesis Sample on Genesis Framework · Site designed by Writer Marketing Services.

This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish.Accept Reject Read More
Privacy & Cookies Policy

Privacy Overview

This website uses cookies to improve your experience while you navigate through the website. Out of these, the cookies that are categorized as necessary are stored on your browser as they are essential for the working of basic functionalities of the website. We also use third-party cookies that help us analyze and understand how you use this website. These cookies will be stored in your browser only with your consent. You also have the option to opt-out of these cookies. But opting out of some of these cookies may affect your browsing experience.
Necessary
Always Enabled
Necessary cookies are absolutely essential for the website to function properly. This category only includes cookies that ensures basic functionalities and security features of the website. These cookies do not store any personal information.
Non-necessary
Any cookies that may not be particularly necessary for the website to function and is used specifically to collect user personal data via analytics, ads, other embedded contents are termed as non-necessary cookies. It is mandatory to procure user consent prior to running these cookies on your website.
SAVE & ACCEPT
 

Loading Comments...
 

    %d