Gay Romance

New Release! Opening Night, by Lisabet Sarai @LisabetSarai #EroticRomance #LGBTQ #HistoricalRomance #MM

March 13, 2023 by Adriana Kraft

MM Historical Romance
6,800 words, Three flames
Smashwords and Amazon KDP
ISBN (Smashwords): 9798215446928
ASIN: ‎ B0BXCJVLC1

BLURB

Let your heart be your compass

It’s January 1887, a few days before the opening of the audacious new operetta “Ruddigore”. As if librettist William Gilbert doesn’t have enough to worry about, one of the D’Oyly Carte stars breaks his leg doing the horn pipe. Fortunately, the understudy Frank Wilson turns out to be immensely talented, as well as devilishly handsome. Wilson has set his heart on Gilbert – and he’s not going to be swayed from his course.

INTRODUCTION

A Lifelong Passion

When I was five years old, my parents took me to see my first Gilbert and Sullivan concert. I remember it surprisingly well. Organized outdoors as part of a summer music festival on the Boston Common, the performance featured the legendary Martyn Green from the D’Oyly Carte Opera company – the same troupe that originally mounted William Gilbert’s and Arthur Sullivan’s comic operas in the nineteenth century.

My father and mother were both G&S aficionados. The family must have had phonograph records of at least some of the operettas, because I could sing many of the songs by the time I was in my teens. Certainly we took advantage of whatever opportunities came along during my childhood to indulge ourselves in the topsy-turvy world of the famous pair.

The day I met my husband-to-be, he happened to mention that he was a G&S fan. I will admit, I took this as a sign that we were meant to be together. Later, he and I lived in a town that had its own G&S amateur group, who mounted a different operetta every year. Those were heady days! My parents would often travel cross-country to join us in what became a beloved ritual. During those years, I believe we saw performances of the entire G&S catalog.

Though not as generally popular as The Mikado or Pinafore, Ruddigore is probably my favorite Gilbert and Sullivan opera. This is partly due to the hints of darkness – Sullivan’s music echoing the eerier strains of Mozart’s Don Giovanni – but also the humor. The paradoxical logic that allows Sir Ruthven Murgatroyd to argue his way out of the witches’ curse is some of the best comic sleight-of-hand in any G&S play. Ruddigore also includes one of the most outstanding female characters in the oeuvre, Mad Margaret – a village woman driven to insanity by her passion for Ruthven’s Bad Baronet brother Despard. (Yes, I know, just the sort of person to whom a romance author would be drawn…)

There’s another bit in Ruddigore, though, that gave me the initial idea for Opening Night. Rollicking seaman Dick Dauntless is the foster brother and (supposedly) the bosom friend of the disguised Ruthven, and loudly proclaims his love for his brother in one of the scenes. What if that scene were to develop into a homo-erotic confession? I wondered. And then I thought about the possible repercussions, during the straight-laced Victorian period, if Gilbert were to find himself falling in love with another man.

Opening Night quotes liberally from the original play (courtesy of my mother’s Complete Works of Gilbert and Sullivan, which I inherited), but I admit to playing fast and loose with both history and the plot. I hope the result justifies this distortion – and that Gilbert would recognize the romantic appeal of my artistic license.

If you’ve never experienced Ruddigore, you’ll find a variety of recordings on YouTube, for instance: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=litYduyL1Xw

And for those of you who don’t have the patience to watch the opera… you might enjoy this four minute summary of the plot: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MeHbS8aA6TQ

In any case – I hope you’ll also check out my story!

EXCERPT

Opening night was tomorrow, and everyone seemed to be eager and ready. So why did he feel so weighed down, so anxious and exhausted?

It was past ten when a knock woke him from a doze that must have crept up on him despite the fear of nightmares. “Yes, who is it?”

His visitor didn’t wait to be invited in. “It’s me, William. It’s Frank.”

Gilbert bolted upright, anger providing him with sudden energy. Red boiled behind his eyelids. “What are you doing here? I can’t have you here. Get out, this instant.”

The younger man shut the door. He sidled over in Gilbert’s direction. Gilbert backed away. “I needed to see you, William. To talk to you, about the other afternoon. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard.”

“Never mind. Just go away now. Please, go away.”

“I apologize for being so rude, so insensitive. I’ve been wanting you so long, it just seemed natural to say it. To show you. I should have realized how new this would be for you, how shocking.” With theatrical grace, Wilson glided to his knees in front of Gilbert, his head bowed. “Forgive me, please.”

Gilbert gazed down at Frank’s golden curls, gleaming in the harsh electric light. He smelled the man’s floral cologne. Damn, his heart was beating like thunder, and there was an uncomfortable tightness in his crotch. Damn, damn, damn.

“Get up,” he said gruffly. “Show a bit of self-respect, Wilson.”

“Not until I hear you say that I’m forgiven.”

“Fine, fine, I forgive you, now get up and go.”

Gilbert didn’t understand how he did it, but all at once Frank was standing in front of him, face to face, close, much too close. He was taller than Gilbert and had to bend to whisper.

“Thank you, William.” Then Gilbert felt the man’s mouth on his own. He felt Frank’s tongue toying with his mustache, tickling, probing, tentative at first, then bold and confident as Gilbert opened his lips.

Gilbert’s resistance melted. Frank’s arms encircled him, and Gilbert reciprocated, stirred by the sensation of strength in those young limbs. Frank tasted of horehound and tobacco, masculine and yet sweet. Frank kissed him eagerly, passionately, and from some place he had not known existed, Gilbert responded with equal passion.

He felt the hard, hot lump that he knew was Frank’s cock, grinding against his thigh. Somehow this did not terrify or appall him. He welcomed it, exquisitely aware that his own cock was swollen and sensitive.

The dark clouds that had haunted him for the past two days dissolved in the brilliance of Frank’s kiss. Gilbert did not think, did not worry or reason or judge. For the first time in a very long time, he simply allowed himself to feel.

BUY LINKS

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BXCJVLC1

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0BXCJVLC1

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1354766

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/opening-night-lisabet-sarai/1143156836?ean=2940166025562

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/opening-night-17

Apple Books – https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id6445998898

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/123174847-opening-night

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, Pinterest, BookBub, BingeBooks and Twitter.

Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

Blog Tour: Love and Valentines at Caynham Castle #Giveaway #Valentine #MM #LGBTQ @gaybookspromo

February 20, 2023 by Adriana Kraft

BLOG TOUR

Book Title: Love and Valentines at Caynham Castle

Authors: Jeanne Adams, Morgan Brice, Caren Crane, Seressia Glass, Nancy Northcott

Publisher: Rickety Bookshelf

Cover Artist: Lyndsey Lewellan

Release Date: February 1, 2023

Genres: Contemporary, paranormal, MF, MM

Tropes:

Caren Crane’s story—opposites attract & forced proximity

Jeanne Adams’ story—Grumpy-sunshine, forced proximity, different backgrounds/worlds

Seressia Glass’s story—friends-to-lovers, grumpy-sunshine

Morgan Brice’s story—hurt/comfort, evolving relationship

Nancy Northcott’s story–Second chance at love, redemption

Themes: holiday, dealing with the past, bargains and deals, redemption, facing the future

Heat Rating: Varies by story

Length: 150 000 words/482 pages

This is the fourth in the Caynham Castle shared-world holiday romance series.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK

One castle, five authors, five love stories, all at the same holiday event!

Blurb

Racing Toward Love by Jeanne Adams

Dr. Oriela Deschamps was overjoyed to get a job appraising an estate for the Wellington family in the small English town of Caynham-On-Ledwyche. From the first meeting with the Byron “Bo” Wellington, Ori knows the job is going to be a challenge. First, there’s Bo himself – the sexy, grumpy heir to Ribald Racing Stables. Then, there’s the exceedingly dangerous artifact that’s the centerpiece of her appraisal. That artifact, a set of riding silks from 1947, carry a curse and someone wants them for dark and desperate reasons. Can Ori’s magic save them, or will the would-be thief kill both Ori and Bo, just as they find their special Valentines?

Fae-ted Mates by Morgan Brice

Dawson and Grady King are honeymooning at Caynham Castle, hoping to take a break from monster hunting. They have one piece of family business to handle, involving a generations-long agreement with the Welsh Fae. When things go wrong, will Dawson and Grady survive, or will they be trapped in the Faerie realm forever?

Romance Sells Records by Caren Crane

After watching her mother’s hope for a grand romance get dashed time after time, Hannah Evans grew into someone with no tolerance for romance. Callum Hughes’ parents had an enviable relationship, and he wanted the same for himself: if only he could convince Hannah to trust what they could build together.

Cupid Comes to Caynham by Seressia Glass

In Cupid Comes to Caynham, Oliver Jones’ family has run the Boar and Knight off and on for centuries. After his father’s death, it is now Oliver’s responsibility to manage the ancient pub, a duty that leaves him no time or desire for love–until professional tourist Shayla Munroe literally falls at his feet. With Valentine’s and Shayla’s departure date fast approaching, does love have time to bloom or will it die on the vine? Not if Venus and Cupid have anything to say about it.

The One Who Got Away by Nancy Northcott

Hastings Whitney grew up driven not only to succeed but to be seen to succeed. His focus on success cost him two marriages and any number of relationships. Now he has a second chance with the woman he never forgot, jewelry designer Corinne Lanier. Has he changed enough to balance work with a relationship? Or will a business crisis bring old habits back to the fore? And is there a sinister side to his problem?

Excerpt from Fae-ted Mates by Morgan Brice

CHAPTER 1

GRADY

“I can’t believe we’re really here.” Grady King pulled Dawson along by the wrist to the check-in desk. “It’s a real castle!”

“It’s called Caynham Castle. Not exactly a surprise—it sort of looks like one,” Dawson teased fondly.

“Yeah, but ‘Magic Kingdom’ isn’t a real kingdom,” Grady retorted. “Truth in advertising is rare.”

The lobby was in one of several buildings along the wall of the outer bailey. Dark wood wainscoting covered the lower half of the hewn stone wall, matching the counter. A large oil painting of a man in the opulent clothing of another century hung behind the check-in desk. Grady assumed it was one of the many Earls of Caynham whose most recent descendant still owned the castle and ran it as a hotel and event destination.

The woman behind the counter watched their banter with a bemused look. “Welcome to Caynham Castle. I’m Constance. Could I have your last names, please?”

Grady plunked their joined hands onto the counter so that the matching rings showed. “King. My husband and I have the honeymoon suite.”

“Theatrical much?” Dawson joked. “She’s seen married folks before, I’d wager.”

“We’ve never been here before or been married before. Don’t dim my joy.” Grady knew he was being over the top, but everything about the trip had his excitement cranked up to the max. Honeymoon. England. Castle—and our own suite. Vacation. And no monsters for two whole weeks.

“He had a lot of coffee on the flight,” Dawson told the woman in a faux-apologetic tone. His grin made it clear that he enjoyed Grady’s enthusiasm.

“You have to understand,” Grady confided in Constance, “we’ve had several friends who absolutely loved their stay here. They told us plenty about the castle. I want to find all the gargoyles.”

“Let’s get you checked in so you can deposit your luggage and go hunting,” Constance said with a smile.

Grady’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean hunting them—” He snapped his mouth shut, realizing that she hadn’t meant their kind of monster hunting. Dawson subtly elbowed him in the ribs, but his unspoken message was clear.

Don’t freak the mundanes.

“Grady and Dawson King.” Grady tugged a bit on their joined hands, loving how the matching gold bands caught the light.

“Ah yes, here’s the reservation. And it seems as if your friends have sent some welcome gifts. There’s a package from Teag Logan and Anthony Benson, one from Erik Mitchell and Ben Nolan, and another from Simon Kincaide and Vic D’Amato.”

Her tone shifted as she read the names, and her eyes widened. “Oh. Oh, my. Are you all in the same business?” She dropped her voice. “Do we have a ghost problem again?”

Meet the Authors

All five authors are members of the same Facebook Author Group – Romance Bandits

Join them here

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Release Blitz: Illuminated, by Alexa Piper @prowlingpiper #Giveaway #LGBTQ+

February 10, 2023 by Adriana Kraft

Title: Illuminated

Series: Vampire Tales 1

Author: Alexa Piper

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: February 10, 2023

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 126 pages

Genre: Romance, Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, Suspense, Bisexual, Multisexual & Pansexual, Gay, Magic, Sorcery, and Witchcraft, Murder Mystery, Vampires

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Synopsis

Ethan is a photographer who loves the interplay of light and shadow in his work and what it reveals. While working on his latest project, he finds himself at an abandoned church after nightfall. Lured by the prospect of capturing something unique with his camera, he ventures inside.

What Ethan discovers in that forgotten place is not what he expected. Instead of sights unseen for decades, Ethan finds a man — bleeding, hurt, and in need of help.

What Ethan doesn’t know is that he isn’t freeing an ordinary man, but an ancient vampire.

Through a haze of blood and violence, Ethan will have to come to terms with a situation nothing could have ever prepared him for. Auris drinks blood and deals death with ease, but Ethan soon discovers that the vampire is not just a monster. Auris is more, so much more. As if it were illuminated with a camera flash, Ethan can almost see himself and Auris have a shared future. Yet, those who tried destroying Auris once will stop at nothing to do so again.

Content Warnings: Illuminated (Vampire Tales 1) contains scenes of violence, murder, kidnapping, and torture that may be triggers for some readers.

Excerpt

I felt the cold fingers of the changing season reach across the café’s outdoor terrace and right up my spine. The warm fall day drew to a close with the trees all along the coast colored in vermilion and gold, and darkness rolled in with the tide, the sky above pretty as pulped roses.

“Need another?” said the very attentive server. Her eyes were ocean blue, and her golden earrings caught the fading light slanting in from across the water. She wore a surgical mask like most of the staff in the region I’d come across, even though they were no longer mandatory. “You seem to inhale them. You know that might cost you sleep, right?”

I smiled back at her and finished the last of my latte. “I always inhale great coffee, but this will have to be my last. I like to work at night.”

True enough, even if I had captured mostly sunlight and shadows, leaves and people today, not my normal fare. The touristy charm of the place had simply lured me in. That all the cafés I found here had great service, view, and coffee didn’t help me regain my work attitude.

She looked me up and down, no doubt taking in my slightly over shoulder-length caramel brown hair, the piercing blue eyes most people liked to comment on, and — last but not least — my pseudo-geeky Schrödinger’s Cat tee.

“My mother would tell you that a good boy like yourself should be in bed at night. What do you do?”

I laughed and tugged a strand of my hair back behind my ear. “I’m a photographer, and I like editing when it’s dark out. Just a night owl thing. Could I get the check, please?” This was beginning to feel more and more like a vacation, even though I was working. I wanted abandoned places for my next exhibition, and if you didn’t mind a bit of driving, this area had plenty.

“Wow, an artist. You’re the first in Brightam this season, or at least my first. Be right back.” She winked at me.

I nodded, and she took my empty glass and walked away.

My bag sat on the chair to my right. I dug for my notebook and phone. My slightly battered but trusty notebook contained my longhand list of places I wanted to go see. I unwound the elastic that held the notebook closed and checked the list I’d bookmarked with an old receipt for a bagel and coffee against a map on my phone to see if I could still get something done today. If I didn’t, this really would be a vacation day, and I was firmly not on vacation. Besides, I was sure some lowlight photos might add a creepy aspect to my work people often told me was there to begin with, even if I never saw it.

The seventh item on my list was a church that had been abandoned for decades, complete with a garden of headstones surrounding it, and it was only a thirty-minute detour from my way back to Cromere where I had booked my hotel for the month. I had my external flash in the car. Going to the church and getting photos of headstones and a dilapidated building in the background in the almost dark would be perfect.

“Here you go,” the server said and dropped the check on the table. “I put my number on there in case you’re staying in town and want to do something later. Together.”

I had seen that coming about two lattes ago, and I did consider it. Yet, the church actually sounded interesting, more interesting than vacation sex when I wasn’t even on vacation.

“I’m afraid I have to get some work done, actually.” I indicated my notebook before putting the receipt back to mark my spot and packing everything back into my bag. “But thanks for the offer. Maybe another time,” I said and tipped her generously.

She shrugged. “Keep the number. In case you change your mind.”

I did and smiled at her over my shoulder when I left the café.

Over the ocean, the pinks were surrendering to indigo and teal. Night’s breath was icy on the breeze.

* * *

I pulled on my jacket and left the car back at the mouth of the path that led to the church. It was a short walk of not even ten minutes, and I was glad that I also kept a flashlight in the trunk, because even with an almost full moon above, it was dark out here.

The trees grew tall on all sides, branches eating at the dusky sky. Insect noises and the sound of me walking were the only things I could hear, and there was something wonderfully peaceful about that.

I hadn’t lied to the server, I was a night owl and always had been, but I lived in the city, and night in the city was never really dark nor silent. Being out here was a different experience and refreshing in its way.

The church came up ahead of me like a looming scarecrow, raggedy and weather-beaten, but its former function clear even in its current condition. It was slightly uphill, which helped with that perception, but there was something… I had the overwhelming sense that the church had been waiting for me. That was nonsense. Buildings didn’t wait or want. They just were and aged and crumbled, but the fact this place did make me feel like the church was a living being boded well for the photos. I snapped a couple, looking up toward the church.

The church itself was really just a small building that might have held a congregation of maybe two hundred. From what I had read, there had been an abandoned mining town nearby, and the church had been left behind when the ore ran out. The bodies already in the earth had been left as well, a strange sort of exchange for the ore, iron paid for with bone.

When I reached the cemetery grounds, my flashlight licked against dark headstones that were leaning this way and that in time’s pull. With the dark church behind them, all this needed to be a perfect set for a horror movie was some fog and maybe a wolf howling. I chuckled. This was wonderful.

I decided that I would just walk around a bit so I could get a feel for the place, take some shots as I did so to begin with. I turned the flashlight off, put it in my camera bag, and started. The strobing light of my camera flash threw odd shadows that lingered on my retinas. I made my way toward the church doors in a slow half circle, not really planning anything, just going by instinct. Then, with a shot of a cracked church window, I saw that the door to the building was open, just enough to draw a hard shadow in the light of my camera flash.

I stopped and turned my flashlight back on, aiming it at the door. I took another picture even if the flashlight would mess up the lighting. I wasn’t sure why, because I was pretty good about not wasting shots. Some instinct maybe, or a random muscle jerk.

“Oh, opportunity, you call me,” I whispered, running the flashlight up the door, which was indeed open.

Purchase

Changeling Press LLC | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iTunes

Meet the Author

Alexa (she/her) has a lot of characters living in her head and wanting their stories told. Many of these people get snarky and won’t stop complaining if Alexa is too slow writing them, which means that for this author, sleep is a luxury. Consequently, Alexa is a coffee addict, but she is sure she has it under control (six cups of coffee are normal in a morning, right? Right!?)

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | BookBub

Giveaway

One lucky winner will receive a $10.00 Changeling Press Gift Code!

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#NewRelease: The Necromancer’s Heart, by Robin Harper @Suntail7 #LGBTQIA+ #fantasy #booklover #bookblogger

November 9, 2022 by Adriana Kraft

Title: The Necromancer’s Heart

Author: Robin Harper

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 11/16/2022

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 21300

Genre: Paranormal, LGBTQIA+, fantasy, supernatural, gay, first love, HFN

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Description

Mortimer’s life is set in stone. That is until he takes the reins and rejects his crown and his namesake. Striking out on his own, he discovers a whole new world and a whole new him. But even with all of the newness, falling in love is still his greatest dream.

Then he meets Galen. He never planned on falling for a man who stands for everything he’s not. Now he just has to deal with the significance of his birthright.

Excerpt

I fell into a hole.

I know, stellar move there. I was such a graceful individual. So graceful that I’d not only fallen into a hole, but I managed to sprain my ankle. Hopefully. I couldn’t tell for sure, but based on how painful it was, and how I could literally put no weight on the joint, I was betting it was broken. Only a fool would fall into a hole and break his ankle and thus remove any hope he had of getting out of said hole.

“Help!? Anyone up there?” I called out again for what seemed like the hundredth time. The sun had gradually been crawling along the sky so I knew I had to have been here for some hours, thank the living dead that night hadn’t fallen yet.

Alas, with no sign of passers-by or any fellow travelers that might take a moment of their day to aid me, I might have to think about this pit with its dirt and worms as my bed for the night.

And hope no wolves come for a snack.

Perhaps I should have stayed home and done as I was told. Those fairy tale stories made running away from a great destiny seem simple, and easy. I guessed reality must ever grind down on the mortals of the world to remind them they are but prisoners to fate on its plane of existence.

“Please! Someone! Anyone–help!” I cried again, despair thick in my voice. No one would hear me; what was the point? I was about to slump back against the dirt walls of my pit when a shadow danced along the side–and did the wind rustle the grass? Or was that the stepping of light feet? I eagerly pressed myself up against the side of the hole where I saw the shadow milling about. “Hey! Hey down here! Please help me!”

My hopes were dashed when two furry ears and a face of white whiskers greeted me. The accompanying ‘Maow’ crushed my heart.

“Oh, hello, adorable.” The cat was striped, black and white contrasting in defined lines across its face. The white whiskers wiggled as it ‘maow’ed’ down at me again, and I smiled despite my despair.

Cats always had an affinity for death and those of us who worked with it.

“Hey, sweetie—do you have a master? Hm? Someone who can pull me out of this pit? Anyone nearby to hear your small meows?”

“Maow!” the critter called down while its striped tail swayed behind it.

I sighed, “No, I suppose you don’t…”

The cat gave a trill and wandered away. My shoulders slumped as I took in my earthy prison. I guess I’d better make myself comfortable for the night, and try to find a stick or something as a weapon… Maybe one of the tree roots was hard enough to use as a blunt force weapon…

While I was hopping over to the other side of my dirty sanctuary the cadence of someone yelling echoed down the pit. Faint—but most assuredly a human’s voice.

Oh, praise the Dead!

“Hello! Over here! Please help me!” I bellowed, attempting to make my voice go as far as possible.

“Blasted pet–what are you doing? Stop tripping me!” Did the cat find help? Was that something a cat could do?

Not possible. But despite possibilities and probabilities, a petite black and white striped head with whiskers and big fluffy ears popped up again and gave me a friendly “Maow,” while its tail swished. I smirked, awkwardly because now I heard heavier, human footsteps approaching. And while that should spell my freedom from this forsaken hole, it meant interacting with another person.

I wanted out of this pit, of course, but my social graces were rusty to say the least. The mere idea of speaking and interacting with another person was a daunting task now. Hopefully it was some old man who would offer me a ride in the back of his potato wagon so that we didn’t have to speak so much while he took me to the nearest town…

The figure that appeared beside the striped kitty was not that of an old man. Oh no, I would never be that lucky. No, my fate was cruel and instead of some crotchety old man with beady, pale grey eyes and scruff for hair, a pair of golden-brown eyes met mine, a solid frame, square jawline. Skin that had been kissed by a thousand suns, thick, dark hair…and a furrow formed between two fine eyebrows as he startled at seeing someone very much alive in this hole.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Robin Harper is a bisexual, polyamorous witch who lives with her husband and two sweet ginger cats in the cold northern state of Minnesota. She finds joy in creating stories about love, and healing, as well as weaving ghost tales and supernatural encounters. She is also an avid reader, an optician during the day, and a lover of coloring books.

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New Release! The H-Gene: After the Plague Book 1 By @LisabetSarai #MFRWAuthor

July 20, 2020 by Adriana Kraft

MM SciFi Erotic Romance (X-Rated)

69,000 words, pages

Smashwords and Amazon KDP

ISBN (Smashwords): 9781005159894

ASIN: B08CVNK6NL

When love is forbidden, the whole world’s a prison.

BLURB

Dylan Moore will do anything for freedom. Seven years ago, a gay plague spread to heterosexuals, killing millions and sparking brutal anti-gay riots. The Guardians rounded up men who tested positive for the homogene and imprisoned them in remote quarantine centers like desolate Camp Malheur. Since then, Dylan has hacked the camp’s security systems and hoarded spare bits of electronics, seeking some way to escape. He has concluded the human guards are the only weakness in the facility’s defenses.

Camp guard Rafe Cowell is H-negative. He figures the lust he feels watching prisoner 3218 masturbate on the surveillance cameras must be due to his loneliness and isolation. When he finally meets the young queer, he discovers that Dylan is brilliant, brave, sexy as hell — and claims to be in love with Rafe. Despite his qualms, Rafe finds he can’t resist the other man’s charm. By the time Dylan asks for his help in escaping, Rafe cares too much for Dylan to refuse.

Dylan’s plan goes awry and Rafe comes to his rescue. Soon they’re both fugitives, fleeing from militant survivalists, murderous androids, homophobic ideologues and a powerful man who wants Dylan as his sexual toy. Hiding in the Plague-ravaged city of Sanfran, Dylan and Rafe learn there’s far more than their own safety at stake. Can they help prevent the deaths of millions more people? And can Rafe trust the love of a man who deliberately seduced him in order to escape from quarantine?

Note: This novel was previously released by Pride Publishing under the title Quarantine. It has been revised and re-edited for this release.

BUY LINKS

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/7233-the-hgene-after-the-plague-book-1/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08CVNK6NL

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08CVNK6NL

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1032512

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-h-gene-lisabet-sarai/1137338272?ean=2940164186050

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/th/en/ebook/the-h-gene

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/54529211-the-h-gene

EXCERPT

Rafe read the conflict in Dylan’s face. Pleasure versus responsibility. Instant gratification balanced against long-term risk. Lust versus love.

The ex-guard held his breath. His pulse pounded in his temples. If Dylan chose this anonymous fuck, that was the end for the two of them. He couldn’t share—he didn’t have it in him. Anger leached away, replaced by fear and a vision of future sorrow—a life on the run, an empty existence, without the one thing that he cared about…

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to lead you on.” Dylan sidled up to Rafe and slipped his arm around the black man’s waist. “We don’t play outside our relationship. I hope you can understand.”

Rafe relaxed slightly. Relief flooded through him. He hugged Dylan to his side, noticing the damp heat of the other man’s skin even in the midst of the drama.

Something flickered in the stranger’s eyes, some strong emotion Rafe couldn’t identify. “Are you certain?” His rampant prick swayed back and forth, tempting them both. “I guarantee I’ll give you a fuck you’ll remember for the rest of your life.” He peered at Rafe, obviously judging him. “I’ll do you both, if you like.”

“Sounds fabulous, but I’m afraid I have to refuse.” Dylan favored the man with one of his winning smiles. “I’m sure you’ll find someone else here to take you up on your offer.”

“You’re the one I want.” He stabbed at the air with one finger. “And I’m used to getting what I want.”

“Sorry, not this time,” said Rafe, letting some smugness into his voice.

The stranger ignored him. He reached out to stroke Dylan’s cheek. “If you change your mind, gorgeous, I’ll be in the steam room.” He turned on his heel and strode out, not waiting for a response.

Rafe released a long, slow breath. His muscles were in knots. “What a bastard!” he muttered.

“Oh, I don’t know. He struck me as very civilized. Quite attractive, too.” Dylan grinned up at him. “I’m teasing, silly! I’d never choose him over you.” He pulled Rafe’s mouth to his and gave his a solid kiss.

“Oh, yeah? You looked tempted.” Rafe was still on edge.

“Only a little. Honestly, when he started rimming me, I was so confused and horny I didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t a decision. It just happened.”

“Don’t let it happen again.” Rafe realized he sounded like a bastard himself. He softened his tone. “Please, Dylan. The thought of you with somebody else—I can’t take it. I’m sorry, that’s just the way I feel.”

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have warned you about the rules and conventions here. I could see you were nervous. We should have found a private room.” They seated themselves on the tiled shelf. Dylan rubbed his cheek against Rafe’s shoulder like a cat marking his territory, then licked his way across Rafe’s chest to his nipple.