Future, Broken by Jacey Holbrand and Elizabeth Monvey #LGBT #RomanceBooks #NewRelease #scifi #dystopian @JaceyHolbrand @evernightpub

Thank you for having us on your blog today! We’re so excited to share the release of the first book in our Project Mars series, Future, Broken. For a quick idea about the series, check out this trailer

 

A little more about the book

 

Future, Broken-3DeReader

Book 1 – Future, Broken – Available July 10, 2019 – a Project Mars story – futuristic, sci-fi, romance series by best-selling authors Jacey Holbrand & Elizabeth Monvey

Genre: futuristic, sci-fi, Alternative (MM) MPREG Romance | Heat Level: 3 | Word Count: 66,125 | ISBN: 978-1-77339-998-0 | Editor: Karyn White | Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

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BLURB

In the future, be careful who you trust.

Nathaniel Stockton and Grover Silas Ranger are faced with the ultimate test to their relationship when the Project Mars Lottery comes to town. Nate wins a chance to have his dreams come true: live and work on the red planet with his love. His husband Ranger doesn’t see the point of going from one bad place to another. But an evil organization called Sector has a completely different idea for the couple.

Kidnapped, experimented on, impregnated, and sent to Mars, Nate realizes too late he trusted the wrong people.

Ranger fights to find a way to Nate. Will he make it to his love before their dreams and lives are irrevocably broken by distance, a pregnancy, and the corrupt agency?

 

EXCERPT

The phone rang, dragging Nate from his thoughts.

“I’m gonna put it on screen,” Ranger called out from the kitchen.

“Sure.”

The wall flashed to life, and a dark-haired man with dark eyes, appeared. The stranger reminded Nate of the doctor at the lottery exams—lab coat, stethoscope, well-groomed—but this man was older and seemed to have an edge to him.

“Hey,” Nate greeted. “What can I do for you?”

“Am I speaking with Nathaniel Curtis Stockton?”

“Yeah.” Nate took a swig of his drink.

“Wonderful.” The man smiled but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “I am Doctor Rafael Trask. I am one of the lead scientists in a series of special clinical studies being performed. I understand you failed the medical section of the lottery exams?”

“Yeah.” The guy’s voice sounded cool … exact. Combined with the discord of his face, Nate sensed an air of danger surrounding the man. Creeped out, Nate was hesitant to say too much.

“Well, first off, let me say, we are not associated with the lottery. But should you participate in our studies you may have another chance at traveling to and settling on Mars. We also offer outstanding compensation. Despite whether you are or are not picked for travel, you will pretty much be set for life.”

Ranger strolled into the room and sat beside Nate, twirling the comm-wand between his fingers. “What are these studies?”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”

“His husband,” Ranger answered. “Whatever he’s to be involved in, wherever he’s going, I’ll be at his side. What’s all this about?”

Doctor Trask leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers together. He looked down his nose at the camera on his comm device, appearing to contemplate what Ranger had said and giving Ranger a once-over. The doctor reminded Nate of a vulture.

“Okay,” Trask said. “Like I was about to mention to Mister Stockton, we are trying to find cures for people who did not pass the medical aspects of the lottery exams due to their diseases. We are also looking into the sterility epidemic and chromosomal changes in the female population.”

“Could you hold a moment?” Nate asked, grabbing the wand from Ranger and muting the call. He pointed the wand at the screen. “Do you think this is legit?”

“Yeah. It could be.”

“It might be the answer to our Mars problem.” Nate smiled, feeling a glimmer of warm hope spring up within him again.

“Perhaps. Should we see what’s what with it?”

Nate unmuted the call. “What if we say we’re interested?”

The doctor lifted a corner of his mouth. “I will digitize a package of information to you, and then we will be in touch with further instructions.”

“Well,” Ranger said, “count us interested.”

“Wonderful,” the doctor drawled.

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BUY LINKS

Evernight Publishing ## Amazon: US ## Amazon: UK ## Barnes & Noble ## Kobo ## Smashwords

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AUTHOR INFO

JACEY HOLBRAND believes life and love comes in all forms and should be celebrated. She’s committed to her muse and writing so she can share her stories with readers. Hot days. Sexy nights. Come play in her world. Jacey loves to hear from readers!

STALK JACEY HOLBRAND

Blog/Website ## Amazon Author Page ## Twitter ## YouTube

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ELIZABETH MONVEY is the pseudonym for a single mother from Los Angeles. She writes manlove stories, where the hero meets the man of his dreams because happily ever after is one of her favorite things.

STALK ELIZABETH MONVEY

Amazon Author Page ## Evernight Author Page ## Facebook

 

 

 

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New Today at Changeling Press! #NewReleases #ebooks #RomanceBooks @changelingpress

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Changeling Press authors M.D. Stewart, Gale Stanley, Harley Wylde, and Ciarra Sims have new releases today on the Changeling Press site! Each book is up for pre-order at online retailers to release next Friday.

 

Born a Changeling by M.D. Stewart

Born a Changeling (Paranormal B&B 3)

 

Gay Paranormal Romance

Cam: I’m a changeling, a shapeshifter born to protect the innocent and serve my Queen, Hecate. While patrolling the Castle grounds in our supernatural world, a scent leads me through a portal to the Mortal Plane where I meet my mate and his charming daughter. An evil plot between his world and mine is trying to take them away from me, but I’ll die — or go against my Queen — to protect my new family.

Ben: My daughter, Seda, is my world, though I try not to give in and let her have everything she wants. But I can’t say no to her keeping the large cat she finds while we’re on vacation. It turns out this cat really is different — he turns into a very sexy man who crashes into my life and steals my heart. When something evil tries to cross into our world, Cam vows to put his life on the line to protect my child. I may lose one to save the other, and I don’t know how I’ll ever survive the loss.

GET IT HERE

 

Credence by Gale Stanley

Credence (Wolf Pack 3)

 

Gay Paranormal Menage Romance

Bleu and Grey are bonded, but a threesome with Alek leaves Bleu questioning their relationship. He believes the three of them belong together, but triads are taboo, so Bleu suffers in silence. Some things are better left unsaid. Still, fate keeps throwing them together. Can there be a future for two Alphas and an omega? Or will hidden feelings destroy them all?

GET IT HERE

 

 

Tex/Zipper by Harley Wylde 

Tex/Zipper Duet (Dixie Reapers MC Box Sets 4)

 

Contemporary MC Romance

Tex (Dixie Reapers MC 6)

Tex: Fifteen years ago I signed away the rights to a child I’d never seen and joined the Army, putting my past, including the Dixie Reapers, firmly in my rearview. Now I’m back, and I’ll do anything in my power to save the daughter I’ve never met. I just didn’t count on rescuing two damsels. Kalani’s got trouble written all over her.

Kalani: Hillview Asylum looks presentable enough, but I know firsthand the horrors inside those walls. Now I’m faced with a man who makes me want things I shouldn’t, but Tex keeps the nightmares at bay. For the first time in my life, I feel safe. Protected. But now I want more… I want to be loved.

Zipper (Dixie Reapers MC 7)

Delphine: Six years ago, I chased away the guy I’ve been in lust with ever since my hormones kicked in. Now I need help, and there’s nowhere to go except straight to the Dixie Reapers. If Zipper won’t help me, I’m as good as dead. Is it wrong that I hope I end up in his bed? I’ve never stopped wanting him, and I know I never will.

Zipper: The girl who had turned my life upside down wants my help. Now she says I can have anything I want. Naughty girl. Didn’t anyone ever tell her not to tempt the devil? As for the men trying to kill her, it’s only a matter of time before they breathe their last. No one hurts my woman.

GET IT HERE

 

Possession Obsession by Ciarra Sims

Possession Obsession

 

Paranormal Rock Star Romance

Gypsy magic woven through the fabric of time…

When Chloe inherits her Great Aunt Antonia’s legacy — a mysterious trunk filled with lovely lingerie — her life takes an unforeseen turn. The beautiful old undergarments have magical powers — and a mind of their own. For the first time in her life, Chloe finds herself irresistible to men. But there’s only one man Chloe wants — and that man just happens to be world famous rock star Slade Brandt — Sam Brandenburg, her high school crush.

Fame has its price, and Sam has his own demons to battle. Caught up in his own myth, he can’t seem to escape. The way things are going, stardom may cost him his sanity — or his life. He’s slipping farther and farther into the dangerous underground world of freaky BDSM role-playing — and he’s about to sacrifice himself to a cult of real life wannabe vampires. Chloe knows she’s his last hope. Can she save Sam from the thing Slade’s become?

GET IT HERE

 

 

Through Roscoe’s Eyes by Kory Steed #GayRomance #NewRelease

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What people are saying about Through Roscoe’s Eyes:

“Kory Steed’s new book, Through Roscoe’s Eyes, is a tear-jerker with a very happy ending. If you love your pets, you’ll love this novel, because I think the animals stole the show in it.”

“You don’t want to miss this bestseller.”

“Check out this great title from this gifted author!”

Overview:

When Reggie sets out to continue his mother’s mission to feed the homeless, he never anticipated how much a chance encounter with an injured man, his small, gaunt dog, Roscoe, and sick, young cat, Cinders, would change the course of his life. With a winter storm approaching, Reggie makes a snap decision and brings the wary trio to his estate home to be cared for and nursed back to health.

Reggie learns the man’s name is Calvin, he was a quartermaster in the army, and he was dishonorably discharged prior to the repeal of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”. Taking pity on the man and in need of someone to help him run his mother’s foundation, Reggie offers Calvin a job. With few prospects in sight to find shelter for his small family during the peak of winter, Calvin reluctantly accepts Reggie’s offer on a trial basis, but it is only one of many trials both men will face.

Eventually, yearnings Reggie and Calvin had buried deep inside begin to fan the nearly extinguished embers of passion in both men. With Calvin drawing emotional support from Roscoe and Cinders, and Reggie discovering an ally in his beloved housekeeper, both men explore their newfound attraction, edging them toward the precipice of an ecstasy neither could have imagined.

Will the discovery of a past connection between the two men’s families be enough to bring them together? Or will sinister, outside forces and an unexpected loss of life shatter the bonds between both families and both men for good?

 

Through Roscoe’s Eyes-banner

Buy Links:

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Amazon CA

Evernight Publishing

Smashwords

BookStrand

Barnes & Noble

iTunes

Kobo

 

Excerpt

Clad in a leather coat and denim jeans, Reggie sat quietly in his jet-black SUV, parked along the curb, while he drummed his fingers lightly on the steering wheel. From his vantage point, some thirty yards away, he peered through the windshield as he focused his binoculars on the huddled form on the sidewalk as it came in and out of view between the people hurrying by. He waited for a sign, a sign that would determine when his mission would end, but he grew impatient.

The smell of hot sandwiches and fries emanating from the last bag resting on the back seat seemed well out of place in his Platinum Escalade, but it brought back fond memories from his childhood. Old Dudley, the family chauffeur, took pity on him to occasionally make a quick detour for the forbidden fast-food on their way home during his days at the private academy where he went to school. Dudley even took the blame for the smell that coated the interior of the limousine, claiming it was him who had succumbed to the lure of French fries and burger grease when his parents complained about the odor on those occasions when he didn’t have time to air it out. Reggie wondered whether the recipient of the meal would relish its contents as much as he once did.

He’d already distributed twelve of the baker’s-dozen, large paper bags that afternoon. With only the one left to go, he needed to make up his mind. Was the figure, sighted through other end of his binoculars, worth the risk? Regardless of his good intentions, charitable work had its hazards, particularly when on your own, and he’d already had run-ins with two anonymous recipients today. He didn’t want a repeat of being accused of thievery, and this potential recipient looked to be closer to the risky end of the charitable acts’ spectrum.

The work he’d begun years before had started with a promise, but as the years passed, he’d thought more and more of it as a mission. He set down the binoculars and sighed. If she could see me now, he thought. Though I’m no missionary.

Lost to his memories, Reggie had no idea how much time had passed when his eyes came back into focus. He recognized the sun would be setting soon, and he needed to be on his way. That’s when he noticed movement coming from the direction of his target. Something shuddered in the breeze. He lifted his binoculars just in time to read the words, I ask not for me, but for them.

Reggie put on his turn signal and pulled out into traffic, then pulled right back up to the curb after closing the distance to investigate the words that caught his attention.

Hurrying passersby glanced briefly at the words scribbled in rough, bolded-black letters, written with crayon in a child’s hand on a crumpled, jagged-edged piece of cardboard. A dented, faded coffee can sat on the sidewalk in front of the propped-up sign. Drawn above the words were two artistic renditions of smiling figures with pointed ears, but the passersby kept passing by.

The sign was nearly as filthy as its author, also propped against a boarded-up door in the alcove of an abandoned deli, nestled between boarded up windows over blackened glass. There was evidence a fire had taken place there sometime in the past.

Cretin shrugged the once-colorful child’s sleeping bag further up his neck as he repositioned himself against the door. He was the only one who knew a family of pink and purple unicorns still lived beneath the street-worn filth that now covered the quilted fabric. A cold north wind began to blow in, an omen that warned it was going to be another empty-stomach night for the three of them.

As the last rays of the early January sun began to slip behind the roof of the laundromat across the street, Cretin huddled against the advancing cold and tucked his head beneath the unicorns. “I’m sorry, babies, I did my best.”

Reggie cleared his throat. “Who is them?”

Cretin continued to whisper into the sleeping bag. “Maybe tomorrow I’ll find a better place to beg.”

“Hey, buddy, I said, ‘Who is them?’”

“Huh?” Cretin pulled his head out and blinked against the last rays of the setting sun until the shadow of a figure blocked them. Before him stood a pair of legs, covered by crisp, blue denim jeans, their rolled-up cuffs revealed a lining of blue and green, plaid-flannel. The jeans were propped up by a pair of expensive-looking brown, leather Boondockers.

“What’d you say? You talkin’ t’ me, Denim Legs?” Cretin followed the legs up to a wide, two-tone, brown leather belt with a matte, silver-metal buckle, just beneath a black and red, plaid-flannel shirt that was tucked into the jeans. Over the shirt was an expensive, brown, thigh-length, patchwork-suede, lambswool coat with the bottom two, large leather buttons undone, and there were gloves to match. The long end of a red and blue plaid-woolen scarf, wrapped around a neck, hung down the jacket’s front.

“Yes, sorry, sir. I asked, ‘Who is them?’”

Cretin followed the voice upward to a pair of broad, full lips, spread into a smile, and studded with white, shiny teeth that filled it from one side to the other. Above them, a noble, slightly crooked nose and a pair of blue-green eyes that crinkled at their corners finished the face. It was deeply tanned and surrounded by short brown hair with the ears cut out. There was a scattering of gray at the temples. Cretin couldn’t tell whether the guy was rich, tanned-white or Hispanic, or some other combination thereof, but it didn’t matter. He was talking out loud and to him, and he wanted to know who them was. Maybe there’d be food tonight after all.

“Sir? You callin’ me sir?” Defying the greasy, matted-brown hair, tied in a ponytail, and the filth covering the bearded, Caucasian face, Cretin’s amber-brown eyes with flecks of gold peered up at Denim Legs. “Sorry, but I ain’t no sir, not no more, just Cretin. What you want?”

“I was inquiring as to who them is, or more properly, who they are. Your sign, with the beautifully drawn figures of a dog and cat, are they yours?”

“Yup, them’s my family. Well really, only one is. Roscoe’s mine, but Cinders is Roscoe’s. Guess that kinda makes him family, too.”

“Roscoe and Cinders? Who’s who?”

Cretin flipped the sleeping bag open, and then looked back up at Denim Legs. “Them’s Roscoe ’n Cinders.”

Lifting its smooth, short-furred black and white head was what looked like a small terrier mix. Its ears pointed up while the tips drooped down, and its markings were like that of a killer whale, but in reverse—large, white regions with smaller, rounded and oval, black markings.

Denim Legs’s face softened.

A two-toned, striped, ash-gray, juvenile cat, just out of kittenhood, was curled between the dog’s front legs. The edges of its ears were scabbed, the ears themselves were red, and swollen, and oozing and there were crusts in the corners of its eyes. Crusted yellow wounds lay where bald spots covered its body, and both of its front and left rear paws were swollen, blistered, and hairless as well. Not taking its eyes off Denim Legs, the dog lowered its head and covered its ward with its paws.

Then the odor hit him. Denim Legs recoiled.

“Oh, for the love of God!” The stench that stirred into the air made him stagger backwards. “That smell!”

Cretin cowered and smiled weakly behind his several week-old beard, embarrassment evident on his face.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Denim Legs said. “I’m so sorry. You can’t help it.”

“No, I’m sorry, Mister. We been on the street off ’n on some past two years—but we been without means to bathe ’n shave fer only a couple weeks, ever since we got throwed outta that shelter. One animal’s alls I’s allowed, ’n they didn’t even like that, but they had t’ let us stay ‘coz some rich folks done made a donation t’ that effect. Once they found out Roscoe done adopted Cinders, they said to git. I begged and begged ’em, but they said no ways.

“I took one look at Roscoe, ’n her face done told me what I had t’ do. After she pulled Cinders outta the rubble of that burnin’ factory when he was a baby—well he been hers ever since. Can’t break up her family so we packed right up ’n left.”

“Roscoe is a girl?”

“Yup, I know. I know it’s a boy’s name, but I took one look at ’er when I found ’er nosin’ by the tracks ’afore I knew ’n said, ‘You looks like a Roscoe t’ me.’ She started waggin’ ‘er tail right off—been Roscoe ever since.”

“And Cinders?”

“Baby boy, but he ain’t gonna be a baby much longer. I’m savin’ up some money so as t’ git him fixed. I already tried once, but them animal shelter folks tol’ me he was too young ’n weak at the time on account of his burns. I’m trying to build him up so as he can go through it. Only right with so many strays about. Maybe come spring I’ll have enough saved up.”

“I see,” said Denim Legs.

“Not a lot of cans on the street right now seein’ as folks don’t drink as much soda pop since it got cold. I keep havin’ to dip int’ it t’ pay fer their food. All used up three days ago, but I can start savin’ again once the weather turns back. I been able t’ scrounge up enough chow that be still half good right now out back o’ them restaurants a couple blocks over, over on 47th, t’ keep us going.”

“Sir, it’s going to be cold tonight. There’s a big storm coming. A couple feet of snow is in the forecast for the city. You’re going to have to find a place to take shelter.”

“Ain’t no place that’ll take me ’n Roscoe ’n Cinders, ’n I ain’t leavin’ ’em. I can’t. I promised ’em I’d always look after ’em.”

“Hold on, maybe I have something that will help.” Denim Legs turned around and walked to the curb. It was the first time Cretin noticed the big, black SUV with its motor running. Denim Legs returned a moment later carrying a heavy, quilted winter coat, a pair of knitted mittens, and a multi-colored, knitted scarf and hat—but most importantly, he carried a large, fast-food paper bag.

Roscoe lifted her head and sniffed the air. Her body began to tremble, and her tail started to wag, beating in time with the sound of the SUV’s idling engine. Cinders lifted his head and sniffed, too, but he held fast beneath Roscoe’s protective shield.

“Here you go,” Denim Legs said, “These should keep you warm, and there should be enough in the bag to feed the three of you for at least a day.”

A smile of stained teeth spread across Cretin’s face. “Thanks, Mister. Sure ’preciate it. I’ll put Cinders in the hat ’n then Roscoe ’n the hat inside this nice, new, warm coat. ’N zip it up real tight. That’ll keep ’em both nice ’n warm tonight.”

“Sir, the coat is for you.”

“Ain’t no sir, I told ya. I’m Cretin. I got this here sleepin’ bag. It’ll be enough fer me, but thanks again,” he said as he reached into the bag of food and pulled out two foil-wrapped sandwiches, one a burger, the other fish. “Roscoe and Cinders sure do appreciate your generosity.”

Denim Legs stood in silence as he watched Cretin carefully open the sandwiches and begin to pull the meat and fish apart, sucking the mayonnaise off the burger and the breading off the fish. After placing the breading among the remaining cheese, lettuce, tomato, pickle, and onion between the remaining buns, he broke up the meat and fish and fed the pieces to his little family. Once it was gone, he ate the contents of the buns in several bites.

“Sir … sorry, Cretin,” Denim Legs said with reverence. “There’s plenty in there for all of you. You need protein just as much as Roscoe and Cinders do. Please have yourself a burger.”

“Oh, I will, I will. It’s just that I ain’t that hungry right now, ’n they need it more ’n me, seein’ as they only got fur, and there ain’t much of that between the two of ‘em. Again thanks, Mister. Guess I better get a move on afore that snow starts up.”

“But where will you go? You said the shelters won’t take you.”

“Is right. There’s a busted lock on a door ‘round back of here. That’s where we been holdin’ up at night ever since we left the shelter. Too cold for kids and gangs to be botherin’ us after the sun goes down. We hold up just fine in there.

“Good thing you stopped when you did, ‘coz they done got our money out the can ‘bout hour afore you come by. I was ‘bout t’ head out t’ buy Roscoe ’n Cinders their supper. That’s why I’s still here—tryin’ a little longer t’ see if’n some good folks might find it in their hearts to toss us a few coins. Good thing I stayed, ‘coz then I met you. So thanks again, Mister. Really, thanks.”

“Here,” Denim Legs said as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He took out a few bills. “Please use this and find yourself a room for the night. I’m sorry, but it’s all I’m carrying right now.”

“Sixty-five dollars! Sixty-five dollars! Mister, that’ll feed us for a couple weeks!” Cretin exclaimed. “Oh, thank you, thank you so much!”

“No, please get a room or you’ll freeze tonight.”

“Too late for tonight, but don’t you worry none,” Cretin promised, “tomorrow’ll be different. Now we gotta get a move on.”

“But … but,” Denim Legs stammered, but it was no use. Cretin shook his head. He’d made up his mind.

Denim Legs watched Cretin wrap the new scarf around his neck then fold up the sign and quickly pack up his meager belongings and the bag of food into a heavy, black-plastic garbage bag. Then he lifted a shivering Cinders and folded him into the hat under the watchful eye of Roscoe. After opening the new coat, he motioned for Roscoe to lie down in it, then placed Cinders, in the hat, beside her.

Once Roscoe curled up around the kitten, Cretin pulled the coat sleeves into the coat and zipped it up around them, leaving the top six inches open. He looked back over his shoulder at Denim Legs. “That’s so as they can breathe.” Then he pulled two pieces of twine from his pocket and tied the neck and bottom of the coat up tight. “So as they don’t fall out ’til we get inside.”

After opening the sleeping bag, Cretin laid the coat into its center and then drew up the four corners and tied them together to make a satchel. As he lifted the garbage bag over his left shoulder and scooped the satchel into his right arm, he nodded and smiled and then made his way down the sidewalk. Once he reached the end of the long row of connected buildings, he looked back and nodded his head again before disappearing around the corner.

Denim Legs waved and then turned and walked to his vehicle, shaking his head, wishing he could have done more. As he pulled out into traffic, he glanced in the rearview mirror at the pile of winter clothing behind the back seat and remembered why he was there.

String of Pearls by E D Parr @parr_books @evernightpub #gayromance #LGBT #scifi

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Thank you for inviting me to your blog today with new release MM romance,

String of Pearls

The story is set in the same SciFi fantasy city as last year’s release, The Dreamboat.

Indigo Vaughn, the warlock head of security, features in the story along with a new cast of characters. When I wrote The Dreamboat, I already had the new characters in my head along with their story. Tobias Mars and Dante Pepper, the elite space pilots for the royal court, very nearly made an appearance in The Dreamboat, but because that story is about Indigo at last finding love, I decided they needed their own story.

Once upon a time Dante and Tobias were close to becoming lovers, but Dante met Viridian and fell in love. Tobias has yet to meet his love when String of Pearls, opens. He’s a man of high integrity, handsome, caring, but also longing for love and sex. String of Pearls is his love story.

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Blurb

Handsome, elite space pilot, Tobias Mars is completing a special mission, when on a water planet, recently ravaged by space pirates, he discovers Dreft Hann hiding and injured in the sand dunes.

There’s instant attraction between the two men, but honorable Tobias believes the fact Dreft is in his care precludes him from showing his growing love for the young man. What’s worse is his shocking discovery of Dreft’s real identity. Even so, Tobias can’t deny his feelings for Dreft.

When head of royal security, powerful warlock, Indigo Vaughn discovers Dreft’s secret, he anticipates trouble.

As beautiful Dreft falls in love with Tobias and dreams of joining the elite pilot squad, trouble is brewing from someone in Dreft’s past.

Will love finally win with so many obstacles in Tobias and Dreft’s path?

Warning, the book contains MM sex, MMM sex, gay anal sex, MM oral sex

string of pearls-teaserero1

BUY the book

On special new release discount price only on the Evernight Publishing website

https://www.evernightpublishing.com/string-of-pearls-by-e-d-parr/

https://www.bookstrand.com/string-of-pearls-mm

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/string-of-pearls-e-d-parr/1129854008

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/906343

https://www.amazon.com/String-Pearls-D-Parr-ebook/dp/B07KFM3YFG

Amazon http://mybook.to/StringofPearls

Read an excerpt

Tobias Mars gazed at Dreft lying on top of the bed in room ten of the infirmary. Hari’s treatment had worked wonders and not only on Dreft’s wounds. Hari had cleaned Dreft up. His hair, now a dirt-free glossy hazelnut brown was brushed back to show off the handsome planes of his face. Hari had replaced Dreft’s strange boy-like clothes with the infirmary’s grey cotton pants and t-shirt. The man was, as his colleague, Dante, put it, deliciously pretty. For a fleeting moment, Tobias wondered what it would be like to kiss those perfect lips and hold that muscular body to his own. He shook the thought away.

Dreft opened his eyes and a shy smile spread on his mouth. As Tobias neared him, he shuffled up the bed to sit. “Thank you so much for helping me, sir.”

Tobias pulled a chair beside the bed and sat. “My name’s Tobias, Tobias Mars—no need to call me sir. How are you feeling?”

The handsome man’s eyes held gratitude. “I’m so much better. Thank you. I noticed the insignia on your jacket, sir.”

Tobias grinned as his fingers went to trace the gold and blue embroidered crest. “I’m one of the queen’s pilot explorers. I guess you could call us the elite unit. All the same, call me Tobias. I’d like that.”

“I’ve heard that you have to be aristocracy to be chosen for the unit. Is that true?”

A little frown creased between Tobias’s eyes. “Have you? Where’d you hear that?” A spike of worry prevented him from answering with the truth. His intense security training from the warlock, Indigo Vaughn, threw a question into his mind. Could Dreft be a rival court’s spy or even assassin?

“Sorry. I mean no harm. I heard a lot of things during my years as a slave.” Dreft’s voice held anxiety. His blue eyes clouded.

Witnessing Dreft’s unease, a wave of kindness softened Tobias’s look and tone. “How long were you a slave?” He remembered Hari’s description of the scars on Dreft’s back.

Sadness passed in Dreft’s eyes. “Five years—I’ve been a slave since I was stolen from my home when I was eighteen. I, I’d become desperate, hence the leap from the ship when we cruised reasonably low to take water from the lake on the planet where you rescued me.” His voice cracked a little.

Tobias watched fear replace the sadness in the young man’s eyes. He wanted to lighten the mood. “Hey, are you hungry? I bet Hari hasn’t given you breakfast and I’ve not eaten yet. Do you feel up to a little walk? My home isn’t far. I have loads of food—fruit, pancakes, savory pastries, and coffee. What do you say?”

Dreft gave him the most endearing look. “I’m very hungry.”

Tobias stood and pushed the chair away from the bed. He held out his arm for Dreft to take and helped him stand. “Hang on. You have no shoes.” Tobias left Dreft perched on the side of the bed. He went to the closet inset at the end of the wall and brought back a pair of felt slip-ons for Dreft.

Dreft pushed his feet into them. “Thank you. I think the medicA threw away what I was wearing.”

“Hari is the best medicA available. I trust him implicitly, but he’s a hygiene fanatic. He probably burned what you were dressed in.” Tobias laughed. “Can you manage or will you take my arm. It’s a gesture of support.”

Dreft’s gaze raked Tobias’s face and he smiled softly. “I know the clothes you found me in probably gave you the impression I’m a pirate’s plaything. I’d like to explain—”

“You don’t need to—” Tobias hurried to assure Dreft.

“I want to.” He held Tobias’s arm.

“After you’ve eaten, then.” Tobias led the way from the room, along the corridor and out of the infirmary door. His villa was two doors down from Dante’s and he walked slowly favoring Dreft’s halting steps.

“I’m limping but Hari said my legs were only bruised under the abrasions. Sorry. I didn’t expect them to hurt so much. My ribs don’t and they were broken.”

“Hari fixed your ribs and administered slow release pain reliever at the site. He fixed your abrasions somewhat, but it’s good to heal naturally where possible. He wants you to rest.” A smile sprang to Tobias’s lips. “If he sees us, he’ll probably say to me, ‘Sir, you got Dreft Hann up too soon.’”

©E.D. Parr, Evernight Publishing, 2018

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His Touch (Dark Magick) by Dulce Dennison #Gay #DarkFantasy #GayFantasy #RomanceBooks #BDSM @changelingpress #AuthorDulce

 

Pyk never thought he’d find his destiny deep within the shadows of the dark forest.

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Pyk doesn’t fit in with the light Fae, no matter how hard he tries to conform to the ways of his people. He craves things, dark things, that no light Fae should ever think about, much less desire. At four hundred years old, he thinks he should have things figured out by now, not still be feel like he doesn’t belong. Until the day the dark forest calls to him…

Prince Llewellyn was banished from his home long ago, his deformities too much for even the dark Fae to handle. Nearly forgotten, he’s lived in isolation for five thousand years. Stories of the monstrous Fae prince have become fodder for nightmares to scare Fae children into obedience. But Llewellyn lives, and he’s lonely. When a light Fae comes to him, Llewellyn demands that Pyk bow and submit. He only means to keep Pyk long enough to ease the ache of being alone — he doesn’t count on falling in love.

When others want to destroy Pyk and use him to start a war with the light Fae, Llewellyn knows he must do everything he can to protect his mate, even if it means going home. Now that he’s found the perfect Fae to give in to his dark desires, he’s not letting him go.

WARNING: contains bondage, spanking, sex toys, anal sex, and a bit of darkness. If you don’t like over the top hot scenes between two sexy fae males that may melt your e-reader, then this book isn’t for you.

 

Purchase October 19th at Changeling Press

Pre-Order for October 26th at Amazon, Barnes &Noble, iTunes, and Kobo

 

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EXCERPT

Magick swirled through the air as spells were thrown with arcs of color and light. Pyk scowled at the juvenile behavior as a puff of pink smacked him across the face, the magick settling over his skin leaving tingles in its wake. He shook it off before trudging across the field. Magick pelted him, making his temper spike with every spell. It was wasteful, and was going to draw the wrong kind of attention to their small gathering.

A breeze teased the tall grass and made the leaves rustle. His gaze was drawn to the dark forest, a place where monsters and evil lived. Even the bravest of souls who entered were never seen again. It was said that a beast lived in the forest. Eyes black as pitch, horns the color of brimstone, and a soul that was badly damaged. Young light fae were told to never enter the forest or the monster would eat them, bones and all.

Pyk was too old for such stories, but there was something sinister about the dark forest. Whispers reached his ears, a calling that was hard to ignore, as the voices beckoned him closer. He’d taken three steps toward the forest before he jolted back to awareness. Unease skittered down his spine, a feeling of dread overcoming him, as if he were being watched. Nothing moved from within the forest, and no animals made a sound. It was said that any creature who survived the dark forest became twisted and evil, like the monster who ruled over the territory that lay in shadows and mist.

A glance over his shoulder let him know that no one else was wary of being so close to so much danger. They laughed and played, acting as if they were ten and not two hundred. Part of him envied them. It had been so long since he’d felt carefree. When was the last time he’d played or had fun of any kind? They joked and called him an old man, but Pyk wondered if maybe he had aged before his time. He was only four hundred, still quite young, but being different from the others had given him more of a cynical view of the world. He knew if any of the light fae knew what he really desired, they would shun him.

The whispering grew stronger, drawing his attention back to the forest. Tendrils of black smoke danced and reached for him, pulling him closer. His heart thudded in his chest and his mind screamed for him to back away, and yet his feet carried him closer. The sounds of the laughing fae behind him dimmed as the whispers grew more insistent. The forest was closer than ever before, the darkness luring him in. A scent teased his nose, something rank and rancid. The stench of rotting flesh made him gag and he stumbled back a step.

A black, clawed hand reached from the darkness, wrapped around his wrist, and jerked him into the forest. Pyk stumbled and fell to his knees, the decaying leaves of the forest crumbling under his weight. His gaze lifted, following a pair of black leather boots, pants that molded to strong thighs and an impressive bulge, and a shirt as dark as the endless night sky. Despite the fear he felt, his cock responded to the pure strength in the male standing over him. Looking further up, all he saw was darkness where a face should have been, and the glow of red eyes. Horns curled toward the canopy, tipped with a silver metal.

He should run. Scream. Do something to get away, but there was a pull he couldn’t ignore. His cock throbbed in his pants, and he wondered what sort of spell the creature had cast over him. Other than the horns, claws, and strange face, he had the body of a fae. Stronger than most, broader perhaps. Beautiful. Pyk stared at the expanse of the creature’s chest and he wondered what it looked like under all the black clothing.

The claw-tipped fingers tightened on Pyk’s wrist and the creature began dragging him through the dark forest. Pyk stumbled to his feet and trailed after the figure, his magick sparking then fizzling at his fingertips. Fear pulsed through him combating his growing lust, and he reached down deep, trying to pull from the well of his magick to no avail. Either his fear was too great, or the creature held some sort of power over him.

Darkness closed in around them as twigs and leaves crunched under their feet. The air grew colder, and there was silence around them, as if even the twisted creatures who lived in the forest were afraid of whoever was holding him captive. As much as Pyk wished he was back in the field, he still felt that pull he couldn’t ignore. A mixture of curiosity and desire spiraled through him as he tried to study the figure hauling him through the forest.

A clearing came into view, and with it, a tall castle. Pyk would have frozen in place had the dark figure not been dragging him along. The gray stone structure reached toward the sky, shadows clinging to it, and vines climbing the sides. The massive doors opened as they approached, as if welcoming their master home, and Pyk wondered if his life was about to end. Being led to the evil being’s lair couldn’t be a good thing.

The stones under his feet absorbed the sounds of his boots as he crossed the threshold. As they trudged further into the castle, the doors behind them swung shut, just as soundlessly as they had opened. It was an eerie feeling, and Pyk couldn’t shake the sensation of his skin crawling. Magick swirled through the air, dark and heavy, its hands twisting and reaching for him. The mysterious creature led him further into the castle, the halls seeming to bend and move on their own. Another set of doors opened as they approached, and the creature dragged him further inside, climbing steps to a dais.

Pyk was released and nearly fell face-first onto the floor. He landed on his knees, and waited for his fate. The figure sprawled across a wooden throne, and with a wave of a clawed hand, light illuminated the room they had entered. As the warm glow bathed the creature, the shadows of his face cleared and Pyk was struck dumb by the most handsome fae he’d ever seen. The red eyes changed to a silvery gray, and as more of the creature’s cloaking spell cleared, Pyk realized he was looking at a dark fae.

Long, black hair cascaded over the fae’s shoulders, and slightly pointed ears peeked through the strands. The horns remained, and Pyk realized they weren’t part of the illusion. The fae’s hands really were tipped with claws, even though his fingers looked normal otherwise. Pyk had never heard of a fae surviving in the dark forest, and now instead of being afraid, he was intrigued. His gaze scanned the figure, and he bit his lip at the bulge that still pushed against the male’s pants. It seemed the desire he’d felt wasn’t one-sided.

“Who are you?” Pyk asked.

“Prince Llewellyn.”

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

With an overactive imagination and a penchant for making up stories, was it any wonder Dulce Dennison decided to be an author? From cowboys to shapeshifters, she has a story for them all, but her passion lies in writing m/m romances. Dulce believes in love in all shapes and sizes, and that everyone deserves a happily-ever-after.

Follow Dulce on Amazon and Facebook!

#CoverReveal – His Touch by Dulce Dennison #GayRomance #LGBT #DarkFantasy #elves @changelingpress @AuthorDulce

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About the Book:

Pyk has never fit in with the light fae, no matter how hard he’s tried to conform to the ways of his people. He craves things, dark things, that no light fae should ever even think about, much less desire. At four hundred years old, he should have figured things out, not felt conflicted and like he didn’t belong. Until the day the dark forest calls to him… Lured into the shadows, Pyk never thought he’d find his destiny in the forbidden territory, the place all light fae feared.

Prince Llewellyn was banished from his home long ago, his deformities too much for even the dark fae to handle. He’s lived in isolation for around five thousand years, the stories of the monstrous fae prince nothing more than fodder for nightmares and to scare children into obedience. But Llewellyn lives, and he’s lonely. When a light fae comes to him, Llewellyn demands Pyk bow and submit. He’d only meant to keep him long enough to ease the ache of being alone. Llewellyn never counted on falling in love.

When others want Pyk, want to destroy him and use him to start a war with the light fae, Llewellyn knows he must do everything he can to protect the male he’s claimed as his mate, even if it means going home. Now that he’s found the perfect fae to give in to his dark desires, he’s not letting him go.

WARNING: contains bondage, spanking, sex toys, anal sex, and a bit of darkness. If you don’t like over the top hot scenes between two sexy fae males that may melt your e-reader, then this book isn’t for you.

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Releasing October 19th at Changeling Press

Available October 26th at online retailers

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About Dulce:

With an overactive imagination and a penchant for making up stories, was it any wonder Dulce Dennison decided to be an author? From cowboys to shapeshifters, she has a story for them all, but her passion lies in writing m/m fantasy romances. Dulce believes in love in all shapes and sizes, and that everyone deserves a happily-ever-after — even grumpy bear shifters.

Married since 2000 to a man she isn’t sure is quite human, her husband and children (which she fondly calls the demon spawn) keep her busy, but never too busy to write. Is there such a thing as too busy to write? Most mornings you can find Dulce set up with her laptop, a cat curled up next to her, and a steaming cup of coffee just an arm’s reach away.

Dulce loves to hear from her readers! You can find her on Amazon, her BlogFacebook or Twitter 

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It’s Throwback Thursday on the Changeling Press blog! Check out their latest post for Dragon’s Egg by Lena Austin, a gay dragon shifter romance, including a sexy excerpt!

It’s also Banned Book month at Changeling! Use the promo code ReadABannedBook on any order at Changeling Press now till the end of October and take 15% off your total — as many books as you can fit in your cart!

 

via Throwback Thursday: Dragon’s Egg by Lena Austin #TBT #Dragons #DarkFantasy #GayRomance #LGBT #shifters