m/m

Blog Tour: Peacemaker by Morgan Brice @MorganBriceBook #Giveaway #Steampunk #MM #Romance #Interview

May 1, 2023 by Adriana Kraft

Book Title: Peacemaker (Sharps & Springfield #1)

Author: Morgan Brice

Publisher: Darkwind Press

Cover Artist: Deranged Doctor Design

Release Date: March 25, 2023

Genre: Steampunk MM romance

Tropes: Secret agents, co-workers to lovers, forced proximity, hurt/comfort, mistaken identity

Themes: Learning to love again, taking a chance on love

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 249 pages

It is a standalone book and the first in a new series. It does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Nook | Kobo

Secret agents, forbidden love, danger, and magic!

Blurb

Supernatural Secret Service agents Owen Sharps and Calvin Springfield meet on the train to their new assignment in St. Louis, and sparks fly between them. But it’s 1897, and they need to be very careful—falling in love can be dangerous for men like them.

It’s their first case together, investigating mysterious disappearances—including the two agents who preceded them. Grim evidence leads them to look for a darker purpose. Old ghosts haunt the railroad line, zombie rise, signs point to ritual sacrifice, and they suspect someone is trying to open the gates of hell.

Can Calvin and Owen stop the mayhem, thwart the vampires, and find true love, or will everything go up in smoke?

Peacemaker is a high-stakes steampunk MM romance thrill ride filled with found family, paranormal Pinkertons, intrepid reporters, mysterious disappearances, nefarious land brokers, hellhounds, zombies, vengeful spirits, dark spells, absinthe magic, a ruthless vampire railroad baron and a love that won’t be denied.

Before Colt and Winchester, there was Sharps & Springfield!

Author Interview

Five random facts about the book/series.

The book is set in 1897, the same year that Dracula is published, and Owen is enjoying reading the new bestseller.
Fancy private passenger railroad cars, called Pullman Cars after the company that made them, were the private jets of their day. They could be very elaborate and extremely comfortable.
The TV show Wild Wild West was a favorite of mine and a definite influence, except that my MCs are *together*.
‘Sharps’ and ‘Springfield’ are brands of rifles.
Several side characters also show up in a big way in the Iron & Blood/Storm & Fury series written under our Gail Z. Martin & Larry N. Martin name. Sharps and Springfield is set in the same fictional world and there will continue to be overlap.

What is your advice for new writers?

Don’t give up. It always takes longer than you expect.
Make friends with other writers. Be allies, not competitors.
Always keep learning—new software, new promotional techniques, new ways to write better, etc. There’s always something you can benefit from learning.
Do good research. Your readers will know if you get details wrong.
Invest in a good editor. Everyone needs to be edited.

Excerpt

September 1897

Chapter 1

Owen

Owen Sharps chuckled as he read his book on the train to St. Louis. He had been waiting to get a copy of Dracula, the sensational new book from England, and had found one in a New Pittsburgh bookstore before heading to the station.

It’s got flair, and I like how splashy Van Helsing is, but it’s obvious Stoker never fought a real vampire.

Owen had heard about the book and its growing reputation for being frightening and violent. So far nothing he’s written compares to being covered in blood in an ice-cold cemetery at midnight, hammering a stake through a vampire’s heart, and trying not to get bitten. Then again, maybe I have a skewed perspective.

“Pardon me, is this seat taken?” A drop-dead gorgeous man waited for an answer. He had raven black hair, bright blue eyes, and plush lips that filled Owen with impure thoughts. The stranger carried a suitcase and an overcoat, with a newspaper folded under his arm. Owen took one look and would have booted his granny to the cargo car to free up the seat for the man.

“It’s all yours.” Owen gave a dismissive wave, tearing his gaze away so he’d quit staring. It wouldn’t do to drool.

“I think this might be the last open seat on the train.” The man stowed his suitcase and coat, settling in across from Owen with his newspaper.

Owen couldn’t help giving him the once-over. He figured the man to be slightly shorter than his own six-foot-two inches, and from the cut of his suit jacket, he had a trim, muscular build. Owen made a mental note to be sure to get a glimpse of what was likely a prime ass when they left the train.

“Where are you headed?” Owen thought that a little conversation couldn’t hurt. He wanted to remember the man’s voice to go with his image on nights when he sought relief alone with his hand. This fellow would never know he’d been promoted to the lead in Owen’s secret fantasies. Owen particularly liked the contrast between the man’s dark hair and athletic body to his own rangy build, blond hair, fair skin, and green eyes.

“St. Louis.” The man returned Owen’s scrutiny with an assessing gaze.

Owen sat up a bit straighter, oddly wanting to make a good impression on this person he was unlikely to see again. He felt the weight of the man’s inspection, which made him wonder. Is he a cop? Private investigator? Or maybe…like me?

They were both dressed equally well in suits that were department store quality but not bespoke. The stranger’s hair was fairly short but more fashionable than military, and he was clean-shaven. Owen wondered what a hint of dark stubble might do to heighten those high cheekbones and accentuate the impossibly blue eyes, and he felt himself chub in his pants.

None of that, he admonished silently. It wouldn’t do to raise suspicion. He probably just wants to make sure I’m not the sort to steal his suitcase when he’s not looking.

“I’m headed there myself,” Owen said. “Business or pleasure?”

The man looked amused at the question but not annoyed, which boded well. “Business. You?”

Owen nodded, surprised that he wanted to continue the conversa- tion instead of returning to his book. “The same. I’ve heard the food there is good, but I doubt I’ll have time to do any exploring.” He found himself at ease with the stranger. “Will you be staying in the city, or going on from there?”

“I’ll meet with my boss, but I spend most of my time traveling,” the fellow replied. “I don’t get to stay long in any one place.”

So we have that in common too. Makes it unlikely that we might meet up again the next time I come back to St. Louis. “Me, too. I’m a bit of a rolling stone.”

About the Author

Morgan Brice is the romance pen name of bestselling author Gail Z. Martin. Morgan writes urban fantasy male/male paranormal romance, with plenty of action, adventure and supernatural thrills to go with the happily ever after. Gail writes epic fantasy and urban fantasy, and together with co-author hubby Larry N. Martin, steampunk and comedic horror, all of which have less romance, more explosions. Characters from her Gail books make frequent appearances in secondary roles in her Morgan books, and vice versa.

On the rare occasions Morgan isn’t writing, she’s either reading, cooking, or spoiling two very pampered dogs.

Series include Witchbane, Badlands, Treasure Trail, Kings of the Mountain and Fox Hollow. Watch for more in these series, plus new series coming soon!

Author Links

Website | Audible Profile | Amazon profile

Facebook Group | Facebook Page

Pinterest (for Morgan and Gail) | Twitter

BookBub | Instagram

Read a copy of my Badlands short story Restless Nights here for free

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Release Blitz! Sweet as Pie, by Beth Bolden @beth_bolden #GayRomance #SmallTown #Giveaway

April 17, 2023 by Adriana Kraft

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Sweet as Pie

Author and Publisher: Beth Bolden

Cover Artist: Morningstar Ashley Designs

Release Date: April 13, 2023

Genre: Contemporary MM romance

Tropes: Grumpy/sunshine, opposites attract, small town

Themes: Family responsibilities, necessary change, unexpected love

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 80 000 words

It is a standalone story.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Blurb

Luca Moretti is grumpy—and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Wrangling six—Italian—siblings and the family’s restaurants would make anyone cranky. But when his mother requests that he save his aunt’s struggling Italian deli in charming, picturesque Indigo Bay, he has no idea that he’s about to overdose on sweetness.

Luca expected his aunt’s stubbornness—she’s a Moretti, isn’t she?—and his cousin’s resistance to actual work, but the last thing he expected is the absolute ball of sunshine known as Oliver Billings.

Oliver loves Indigo Bay. Loves owning his small artisan bakery, Sweetie Pie’s. Helps nice old ladies cross the street. Even volunteers for the local Sweethearts Festival.

Sweet isn’t really Luca’s style, or so he thinks. But when he discovers Oliver can be a little spicy too, his prickly exterior begins to crumble like a well-baked crust.

If Luca isn’t careful, he’s going to develop a taste for sweets—and a particular baker’s pie.

And one or two servings will never be enough.

Excerpt

“Ah, they sent the fixer out.” Oliver sounded amused again. “I can see it. You’re definitely more of a fixer than a baker.”

Luca shrugged. “I run my family’s four restaurants. They do not typically need fixing.” Don’t be arrogant, don’t be arrogant. “But Nonna’s Deli here, it is . . .an investment of ours. Not directly under my control. So I’m not here to order changes but to . . .suggest them. Nicely.”

“Which is how they’ve managed to underperform all these years,” Oliver said with another of those smirks. They shouldn’t have been so frustratingly attractive. But Luca felt them deep down, stirring him up in a way he hadn’t expected.

Oliver was definitely a very attractive package, one he’d love to unwrap.

Would he be as sweet as promised? Or a little salty too? Maybe even a bit spicy?

“You could say that,” Luca said. “Part of the proposed changes are aligning the menu more directly with our other restaurants. And that includes fresh bread, daily. Nonna’s here doesn’t have the staff, the resources, or the equipment to do this, but you do.”

“I do,” Oliver conceded. “My schedule’s already pretty packed, but I suppose I could fit you in. French bread? Sourdough bread? Focaccia? Rolls? Loaves? How many dozen per day?”

Luca liked every part of Oliver he’d seen so far. He was charming and sweet and undeniably adorable. Then there was how goddamned sexy he was when he got down to business.

“I’m not sure yet,” Luca said. “In fact, they may not need any at all. Giana and Enzo have my proposed changes, but they are not required to accept all of them—or any of them, actually.”

“You must hate that, not being able to actually impose your control over them.” Oliver said it casually, like a true control-freak business owner, like he understood.

How did Oliver know how much he hated it? Was it that obvious? Was it written all over his face that he’d love nothing more than to march down the street and tell Giana and Enzo exactly what to do?

“Yes,” Luca admitted.

“Nonna’s isn’t just an Italian affectation, is it? Was there actually a Nonna?” Oliver asked.

“My grandmother.”

“Ah, well, there you go.” Oliver leaned back, grinning. Luca wanted to chase him, but he stayed on his side of the table, with what he thought was pretty admirable restraint.

“So why does Enzo dislike you so much?” Luca asked.

“That’s a long story. And I’ve got to tend to these rolls. If they overproof . . .” Oliver shrugged. “I’m a perfectionist, what can I say?”

“If he supposedly turns against you every chance he gets, what’s he going to say,” Luca said, deploying the most persuasive smile in his arsenal, “when he finds out I want to hire you to bake our bread? I need the insider info. Need to be able to convince him it’s a good idea.”

“It’s not going to help you, and you’re not going to like it,” Oliver said. “Though, you sorta look like there’s plenty of things you don’t like.”

But I like you. “You’re not wrong.” It was hard to admit it, but there it was. He was particular, okay? Particular and more than a little arrogant about his particularity.

Maybe it was good Oliver knew that now, even if all they ever had was a date and a night—though even that was still up in the air.

“We dated,” Oliver said. His watch beeped, and he stood, just as he’d left Luca speechless for another long moment. “Well,” he amended, with a cute little shrug. “It was one date. But still. He wanted to continue. I did not. And that’s the story.”

“That wasn’t a very long story,” Luca managed, and was he trailing after Oliver in his own bakery like a lost puppy looking for his owner? Yes, he was, a little.

About the Author

A lifelong Pacific Northwester, Beth Bolden has just recently moved to North Carolina with her supportive husband. Beth still believes in Keeping Portland Weird, and intends to be just as weird in Raleigh.

Beth has been writing practically since she learned the alphabet. Unfortunately, her first foray into novel writing, titled Big Bear with Sparkly Earrings, wasn’t a bestseller, but hope springs eternal. She has published over forty novels and novellas.

Author Links

Blog/Website | Facebook | Twitter | BookBub

Instagram | Newsletter Sign-up

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Release Blitz: Unforgiving Dreams, by Jessamyn Kingley @jessamynkingley #MM #Fantasy #Paranormal #Romance

March 11, 2023 by Adriana Kraft

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Unforgiving Dreams (D’Vaire, Book 35)

Author and Publisher: Jessamyn Kingley

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations

Release Date: March 9, 2023

Genres: MM Fantasy/Paranormal Romance

Tropes: Fated mates

Themes: Love, overcoming the past

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Goodreads Series Link

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Two mates from opposite worlds must discover if the past can ever truly be left behind.

Blurb

Fifteen thousand years ago, the Fae realms crumbled. A decade ago, Noble Protector Drekkoril D’Vaire of the Light Fae woke after spending many millennia in a dreamless sleep. Upon waking, he discovered his people no longer exist. A goddess revered by the Fae had changed them into elves and sprites with no memory of the past. Thanks to a wonderful, supportive family, Drekkoril healed from the ordeal. Now he wants to find the other half of his soul.

Valiant Defender Daravius of the Dark Fae wanders from place to place, trying to put food in the bellies of his tiny family. With little knowledge of any language still spoken and no resources, Daravius’s existence is meager. Each night, he uses a spell to travel to the destroyed realm that once carved deep scars into his soul; night after night, he must relive the horror. Although Daravius wants more for his loved ones, he is lost.

Expert trackers locate Daravius and his family, and they bring the trio to D’Vaire for sanctuary. Within minutes of their arrival, Daravius and Drekkoril learn they are mates. Drekkoril rejoices and yearns for a future together, but Daravius is terrified and desperate to avoid uniting their souls. Only Fate knows which man will get his wish.

Excerpt

Getting to his feet, Drekkoril wondered where Daravius was. There was no one near him, and the blue grass grew wildly around him as if few people trod through the woods. Drekkoril was left with little choice but to walk to find his v’airsell nioll and some clue as to his location. With a shrug, he went east.

A grin crossed Drekkoril’s face when he spotted a line of people ahead of him. Although their black hair told Drekkoril they were Dark Fae, he still called out to them, but they didn’t look in his direction or respond to his repeated attempts to inquire about where he was.

“Can you not help me?” Drekkoril demanded in a near shout after several minutes of walking past the people lined up. His fists clenched as they continued to ignore him, and Drekkoril wondered why they chose silence. Surely, they were not refusing to acknowledge Drekkoril because he was a Light Fae.

“Stop yelling,” a voice Drekkoril recognized hissed. Drekkoril’s annoyance faded away as he turned to spot Daravius standing across a small land bridge. Understanding hit Drekkoril like a punch, and he realized that the line was Light Fae who’d recently gone dark and were awaiting their fate in the Valiant Defender’s realm.

“It is a relief to see you, Valiant Defender,” Drekkoril stated and bowed deeply. With an audience, it was imperative that he acknowledge Daravius’s title.

“Why are you calling me that?”

“It is your title, Valiant Defender.”

“You already know I wish to be called by my name,” Daravius retorted and crossed his arms.

Drekkoril stalked toward where Daravius stood and was horribly confused about why the people around him continued to act as if he were invisible. “I would have no one think I disrespect the leader of the Dark Fae, Valiant Defender.”

“I am not yet Valiant Defender, Noble Protector,” Daravius countered with a roll of his eyes. “And no one can hear us. I thought you had dreamed magically before. We are shades, Koril, and remain unseen too.”

“I was unaware we could dream that way, I was myself in my lone magical dream , not a shade,” Drekkoril replied. “That is a relief. I thought the divide between our people was so great that no one would acknowledge me because of it.”

Daravius stuck out a splayed hand. “You need to stop. You cannot cross to the Dark Fae realm.”

“Why not?” Drekkoril asked. “This is a dream. We are shades in it. No one can see me or wonder why a Light Fae is wondering around.”

“Because once a Light Fae crosses the threshold, they are instantly turned. You cannot be ignorant of that fact.”

Purposefully, Drekkoril continued to walk until he was inches from Daravius. The handsome dark bemollo was scowling at him, but it took nothing away from his beauty. Drekkoril wondered what it would feel like to press his lips to Daravius’s sensuous, unsmiling mouth.

What did Daravius taste like? What would it be like to caress Daravius’s beautifully decorated body with its vivid swirls of black? Would Drekkoril want to undress him slowly to savor every lovely inch, or tear his simple clothing away to stroke and kiss him?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Daravius demanded, a touch of alarm in his swirling gaze.

Daravius’s trepidation didn’t bother Drekkoril. They both had a lot to learn of each other, and the Noble Protector wouldn’t mind overwhelming Daravius with the chemistry he was convinced was growing between them. “I find you very attractive.”

“Stay back,” Daravius insisted with both of his hands in front of him to ward off Drekkoril’s imminent charge into the Dark Fae realm.

With a wide grin, Drekkoril hopped the tiny distance between their realms. “Nothing happened.”

“Your hair is still light,” Daravius exclaimed, his arms falling to his sides.

“It is a dream, Dare. A living history. We cannot change anything that happened. My magic cannot shift. Although I have often wondered if I could have ventured here without switching to a Dark Fae if the realms had remained in existence. I am a bemollo. Would it take my fairy visiting with me to alter us?”

“I would hope that you were not foolhardy enough to challenge such a notion. If your gamble was wrong, you could not undo the damage.”

“I know that, and you are correct. It is not a theory I would have pursued. But since I am here, show me your world.”

Daravius sighed heavily, and his shoulders slumped. “It is not something I wish for you to see.”

About the Author

Jessamyn Kingley has published over thirty titles and refuses to pick a favorite among them. With an extraordinary passion for her characters, she enthusiastically adds tales to her D’Vaire series and avidly re-reads them whenever her schedule allows. After decades living in the Washington, DC area, she now resides in Nevada with her husband and their three spoiled cats. When she is not writing or adding new ideas to her beloved notebooks, she is gaming with family and friends.

Visit her website

Join her Facebook group, Jessamyn’s Ruffian’s

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Release Blitz! Rhyme of Longing by Emily Carrington @CarringtonEmily #Giveaway #LGBTQ #MM #EroticRomance #Paranormal

February 17, 2023 by Adriana Kraft

Title: Rhyme of Longing

Series: Jack and Gil #1

Author: Emikly Carrington

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: February 17, 2022

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 169 pages

Genre: Romance, Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, Suspense, Urban Fantasy, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures, Gay, Multicultural & Interracial, Shapeshifters

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Synopsis

Gilbert Sullivan hates his name, but refuses to go by Gil because of a rhyme he fears is a prophecy. When he meets Jack Sowerby, the new head of SearchLight, he’s terrified the rhyme will come true and he’ll lose his place as Crown Prince of the basilisks, but his attraction to Jack won’t let him stay away.

Jack, born human, is, above all things, practical. Still, when he meets Prince Gilbert, his need for the prince blossoms and he’s unable to resist — at least until he’s forcibly changed into a magical creature. He’s terrified of the new world he’s entering. When Gilbert tries to fight the rhyme, will their shattered relationship ever be restored?

Excerpt

Jack wanted so badly to be done with this night that he felt uncomfortable in his skin. That was not the proper way to begin thinking about his sixty-eighth birthday, his five-year anniversary as the head of SearchLight Academy. This was a party for both those things but no one said “no” to Agent Weinberg.

Not necessarily the most powerful magical being in the world, she was still the head of the entire organization. Even though she held the nominal title of “head of Public Relations,” SearchLight’s whole reason for existing was to protect the relationship between magical and nonmagical peoples. Which was, of course, officially, no relationship at all. SearchLight was a secret and must remain so.

The influence she held would make most magical creatures bow in submission. Jack, being merely human, was suitably impressed. And although as yet not cowed, he was too fond of his life to waste it needlessly. Not that Agent Weinberg had killed anyone. Recently.

Jack took a deep breath in through his nose as the limousine pulled up to the curb. He’d been commanded to take this limo and the implicit service of a driver, and although he hadn’t enjoyed it particularly, he was glad that he hadn’t needed to find a place to park in downtown Washington, DC. So, unsure if he was supposed to tip the driver but wanting to show his appreciation, he stepped around to the driver’s side after the car was parked at the curb and offered the person behind the wheel, whom, his telepathic sense, told him wasn’t human, ten dollars.

“Would you be trying to bribe me to take you home, Agent Sowerby?”

Jack saw the humor in the green eyes turned up to his and smiled. “Never in life,” he told the Irish-sounding sprite or Faery or leprechaun. Damn, sometimes he wished for a werewolf’s sense of smell so he’d know the magical creatures around him at once.

“You’re a good man, Agent Sowerby. Don’t let her bully you now.” And with that, he winked and rolled up his window. Jack stepped around the car to the sidewalk and watched the limo drive away.

“Hey there.” The voice was soft, lightly accented, and full of a syrupy, sarcastic undertone that put Jack’s hackles up. He turned more slowly than he could have, wanting to appear older and so less threatening. He gazed at the three people facing him and saw they were all armed.

He was aware of others watching from the doorway of the restaurant but knew they wouldn’t intercede unless it became obvious he couldn’t handle himself. That was one thing about Agent Weinberg he didn’t like much. She believed in the “sink or swim” philosophy.

The woman who’d spoken was smiling in a particularly condescending way. “Got a handout for me?” She twirled the knife in her right hand as she reached out with her left for the ten spot Jack still held.

Jack offered it, keeping a good distance from her, forcing her to step forward to take the bill. He was aware of the other two moving to flank him. He disliked using his telepathic sense against what he considered to be defenseless people, magical or mundane, and yet he wouldn’t risk his own life to preserve theirs. “I suggest you take this and be on your way,” he said softly, putting a slight psychic push into the words. He blanketed the area with his calming presence, lacking the ability to focus on more than two people at once. Both of the men who’d been flanking him stopped. One of them shook his head but the other was definitely under Jack’s control.

“Back off,” Jack said and watched the woman lower her knife a little.

She snatched at the bill and her knife hand flicked upward.

Jack dropped the ten spot and caught her wrist. The knife’s blade skidded across the waterproof material of his trench coat. He forced her to drop the knife as he said, “Go away.”

The man under his control turned and fled. But the other lunged at Jack. Yanking the woman close, Jack used her as a shield. The other man’s blade slid between her ribs. He swore, stumbling back, and lost his grip on his knife. As he turned to flee, Jack lowered the woman to the ground. He shouted, “Someone call nine-one-one.”

Someone joined him out on the sidewalk. It wasn’t Agent Weinberg. It wasn’t a SearchLight agent he knew. There was regal bearing in the other’s posture as he crouched beside Jack. “Let me heal her.”

Jack didn’t protest, although he did skate his telepathic sense outward to determine if this was a magical creature. The fact that he’d said “heal” rather than “help” argued for him not being human. He came into contact with an impenetrable psychic wall and winced as his telepathic sense bounced off. Well, there weren’t all that many humans who could resist even his most casual reach. Ergo, this was a magical creature.

Jack nodded and said, “Go ahead.” He retreated inside his own head and as he pulled out his cell phone, unwilling to trust to others to call for help, he watched the broad-shouldered male beside him spit into his hand and press the palm against the wound even as he pulled the knife free.

Dragon, Jack thought. Dragons could heal with their saliva or a blood exchange. But this wasn’t a dragon Jack knew.

Purchase

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

Meet the Author

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender erotica. Seeking a world made of equality, she created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires.

Fantasy creatures not your thing? Emily has also created a contemporary romance world, called Sticks and Stones, where she explores being “different” in a small town.

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The Shape of Heat I: Awakening By Lil DeVille #menage #m/m #m/f/f #BDSM #spanking #first time

October 10, 2022 by Adriana Kraft

Blurb

Candi knew hot things happened behind closed doors at the Pearl Beach Resort. After all, the place was owned by bisexual billionaire playboy Boris van Donk, who had a reputation for taking on all comers.

Candi’s family of origin was strictly religious, and she has never given or received more than a chaste kiss in her 21 years. Between bad-boy Boris and her geeky, fun-loving, porn-writing housemates, an awakening of her desires is inevitable.

Erotic Romance (Five Flames)

Excerpt

“So, I’ve got a question for you guys, and please don’t be mad at me,” Candi said softly, looking at her feet.

“Did Parsley leave the empty milk carton in the fridge again?” Luisa teased, putting her arm around Candi’s shoulders. “C’mon, Baby, you can ask anything, no fears.”

“I kinda think I know what you might be fixin’ to ask, but I wanna hear it in your own words,” Parsifal prompted, tickling Candi’s feet with a grass frond.

“Quit it, Parsley!” Candi demanded through giggles. “Look, all I want to know is, are you guys, you know, together?”

“Why do you think we’re together?” Parsifal inquired. “You know me, Girl. I go for male tail, and I ain’t ready to settle on one kind of dick just yet.”

“I know you usually go for guys, but you also say you’re open to experiences with ladies. Anyway, sometimes when I come out of my room to get a drink or go pee, you guys are both in one of your rooms with the door closed, and I hear all this moaning and groaning and giggling. Even though my family is super religious, I’m not a prude. It’s okay if you’re together.”

Luisa and Parsifal burst out laughing. Luisa put an arm around Candi’s shoulders while Parsifal put an arm around her waist.

“Oh, Mija!” Luisa giggled. “Me and Parsley are partners in smut. We write porn together.”

“Wait…porn?”

“Yeah, Baby. You know, people fucking on film,” Parsifal said cheekily, raising his eyebrows repeatedly.

“I know what porn is,” Candi protested, punching Parsifal’s arm. “Why did you think you had to keep that a secret from me?”

“Mostly we thought you’d think we were dorks,” Luisa said. “The whole thing started as a joke. One night when you was at work and we was home, we was drinkin’ a little and we started watching porn for a laugh.”

“Most so-called adult entertainment is just soooo bad,” Parsifal groaned, rolling his eyes. “It’s the same old crap. They don’t even try to make a worthwhile story. But then we found the website for Climax Studios, and their movies are so much fun! They have real stories, like detective or fantasy or sci-fi or westerns. It’s like Lord of the Rings or Star Wars or Law and Order or Bonanza, but with real fucking. I never pay for porn, but we totally paid for premium access to the Climax site.”

“For real, these are movies you want to watch all the way through, not like with most porn where once you get off you turn the movie off,” Luisa agreed. “Then Parsley saw that they was open for script submissions.”

“Yeah, and I’ve been writing dirty stories for, like, forever,” Parsifal said. “So, I said, let’s write a script and submit it.”

“So, we started trying to think of sexy stories we could write,” Luisa continued. “We was kind of blocked at first, but then we realized we had the world’s greatest erotica inspiration right here at Pearl Beach Resort—our very own Fucking Dutchman!”

“Ooh, ooh, speak of the devil!” Parsifal proclaimed enthusiastically. “Bad Boy Boris is heading for The Sex Boat right now with that smokin’ hot new bar manager, Valentyn what’s-his-cock.”

“The Ukrainian pretty boy?” Luisa inquired. “Mm, I wouldn’t mind letting him check my lube levels with his dipstick!”

“You guys!” Candi admonished, blushing and giggling. “I think you’re right, though. There’s plenty of stories about Mr. Boris’ overactive sex drive to inspire porn plots.”

Buy Link

https://amzn.to/3eNpil8

About Lil DeVille

Lil puts the Naughty in Naughty Netherworld Press. With her cheeky sense of humor, big imagination, and quirky characters, she spins one-of-a-kind tales guaranteed never to skimp on love and lust. She enjoys writing in the fantasy, science fiction, and paranormal or supernatural genres, but sometimes she returns to modern-day Earth for a spell. Lil enjoys a good adventure, whether the tale is set in the past, the present, or the future; here on Earth or in some distant, fanciful location in time and space.

Lil lives in a remote rural town in the Colorado-Wyoming-Nebraska triad with her adult son and three cats. She would be happy to write full-time, but since she is not yet a bestselling author, she has to dedicate part of her time to promoting her work.

Lil doesn’t particularly enjoy the promotion aspect of being an indie author because she has severe social anxiety. She enjoys virtually “meeting” her readers and fellow authors but hates selling herself. She prefers to let her stories do the talking.

Lil is a disabled former nurse who no longer works outside the home. When she isn’t cooking up hot stories, she enjoys baking, reading, crafts, and playing mobile games.

Lil’s Links

https://bit.ly/NaughtyNetherworldPress

https://bit.ly/ReadersRoost

https://twitter.com/ReadersRoost

https://bit.ly/NaughtyNetherworldNews2

https://bit.ly/LilDevilleAmazonAuthor

https://bit.ly/TheNaughtyTribe

Three-Way – Which ways do you like it?

May 15, 2010 by Adriana Kraft

The first erotic romance my husband and I wrote together under our pen name Adriana Kraft was filled with hot three-way scenes between the immortal Love Goddess Aria and the mortal couple whose marriage she came to save, Ryan and Jamie Hazleton. We’ve never looked back – nearly all our stories have at least three-way encounters, sometimes more, and most of our heroines are bisexual. We wrote (and still write) what we love to read, scenes that turn us on, even when we read, re-read, edit and polish them. Scenes that fill our fantasy life—scenes we’d love to find ourselves in the middle of. We hope you do, too.

Colors of the Night ~ Excerpt

What’s been fascinating for us is how our tastes have expanded, once those doors opened. We now find ourselves writing a much wider range. We’ve played with the unique pleasures two men can bring to one woman – April Day’s fantasies of a D.P. come to mind, now available in print in our 2in1 release at Whiskey Creek Press Torrid, Meghan’s Playhouse Vol. 2.

But it’s been our swinging characters, Jen and Brett Andrews, who pushed us over the brink into three-ways that include m/m. Turns out it’s not only Jen who discovers she’s bi at mid life – Brett has been bi-curious for longer than he’s let anyone know. He sampled a small taste in Swinging Games: A Tempting Taste, and now he’s ready for more in Swinging Games: Complexities. Here’s a small sample for your reading pleasure:

What if the neighbors find out –
and what if they want to join in?
Delectable complexities unfold
as Jen and Brett continue their swinging adventures!

EXCERPT

“Christ, this guy is torturing me.” Dan’s fingers dug into Brett’s shoulder.

Brett raised his head to read his partner better.

“No, don’t stop. This is incredible torture.”

“Make sure you let us know when you’ve had enough or are close,” Jen cautioned.

“I will. Keep going, Brett. Please.”

Brett smiled around the cock he’d slipped back into his mouth, more than a little pleased their new bi friend was in such a dither due to him. He sank deeper down the cock, taking as much as he could easily manage, amazed at how its width stretched his mouth.

“Damn, I like watching a man go down on my man.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Brenda palming her pussy. He peeked at Jen to see her doing the same. He shuttered his eyes, waiting for something—for what, he wasn’t quite sure. At least the women were enjoying the show, and from the sounds of Dan’s labored breathing, he wasn’t complaining either.

Brett stretched as taut as he could. His balls ached. And then he heard the beat. Was it coming from his head, his balls or Dan’s cock? It didn’t matter. Keeping fingers wrapped tightly around the base of Dan’s penis, Brett began to bob up and down like so many women had done for him in the past.

Even with his eyes closed, his vision blurred. He had to remember to breathe. Fingers encircled his cock. He wasn’t sure whose and he didn’t care. All he wanted was to share some the sensations coursing through his body with Dan—at the point of their connection.

He slowed, not wanting this electrifying exchange to end too soon. He backed off a little and nibbled briefly before resuming his dance with Dan’s cock.

“How in the hell did you learn how to suck cock like this?” Dan wailed. “Jesus.”