Ours... always. #ContemporaryRomance #WhyChoose #Giveaway

Blurb

Adam:

Men like me don’t get happy endings.

When my demons talk to me, I talk back.

I heeded their call when they demanded my parents’ death.

I even listened when they ordered my own.

And they nearly won.

Until her.

One night changed my life. Then I lost it all. I lost her.

Now, I’ll do anything to get my sunshine back.

But can a sinner like me be willing to share after learning I’m not the only one craving her light?

Jordyn:

When a man shows you his red flags, run.

But running from Adam is easier said than done.

When he re-enters my life, my world implodes with the secrets he’s keeping.

Can I forgive him and learn to live in his shadows? To be the light he thinks I am?

Or will his darkness consume me?

Abel:

Witnessing your twin nearly die, hardens something in you.

I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Adam breathing.

As kids, he’d protected me, even though that was my job as the older brother.

Now, it’s my turn to protect him.

You can run little sunshine, but you won’t get far.

If Jordyn’s what my brother needs to keep his demons at bay, then I’ll claim her for us.

She’ll be ours, always.

Excerpt

I hum a tune under my breath, slightly dancing in place as I move forward in the line, wiggling my body back and forth.

Caffeine makes me happy.

And I enjoy the excuse to get out of the house, to feel like an actual human being instead of a robot answering calls and dealing with insurance prior authorization claims—my work-from-home job. It pays decently, but I still pinch pennies, and these little treats are worth every dime.

For mental health.

Nodding to myself in agreement, I smile when it’s my turn at the counter, spitting out my order by memory alone without needing to look at the menu. I’m reaching down for my purse when a familiar pair of tattooed fingers enter my line of sight, tapping a card to the terminal before I’ve a chance to grasp my wallet.

Whirling around, I gape up at Adam, soaking in the sharp angles of his face, piercing aqua eyes, and aristocratic nose. Metal glints in the light, a piercing on the edge of his bottom lip and three hoops through the upper helix of his left ear, leaving the right undecorated.

I’ve missed him so much I could kiss him.

I don’t, though, blinking and taking a step back upon realizing we’re holding up the line.

He places a hand on my hip, guiding me away from the counter to the area where completed orders get placed. Stunned, I let him.

“W-what are you doing here?” I mumble then mentally say fuck it, reaching a hand out to grasp his bicep.

About the Author

Mae K. Knight is a self-published author based in Louisiana, who enjoys writing “trauma boys” as her readers coined them, BIPOC FMCs that look like her and fast, smutty stories that leave you craving for more. When not writing, she’s reading monster romances penned by her fellow indie authors, studying for her nursing degree, or lifting heavy weights in the gym to feel like a bad bitch on a competition platform.

If you want to read more of her work, check out her website: https://maeknight.carrd.co/, buy signed paperbacks directly from her: https://mackandmae.shop/ or go directly to her Amazon page for her KU titles: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Mae-K.-Knight/author/B0D3674KWR.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61560507610143

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/49729390.Mae_K_Knight

Threads: https://www.threads.com/@maek.knight

TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@maek_knight

Mae K. Knight will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Ten Things My Heroine Will Never Tolerate – #SteamyRomance #Giveaway #GuestPost

By A P von K’Ory (Guest Blogger)

Writing New Adult steamy romance novels, I lend words to some pretty “hairy” relationships. Conflict by the heaps because that’s what it’s all about, or I wouldn’t have a story readers want to devour.

But all roads of the character arc preferably lead to HEA, right?

So when the HEA is reached, my heroine is aware that there are still rules to adhere to because we’re all very different individual beings. Compromises must be made where called for. I never allow my heroines to make sacrifices or tolerate anything purely to “make him happy”. Nor do I let her suffer in silence “in the name of love”. Secretly, I actually believe that my hero has the “duty” to be the one making sacrifices and being tolerant to make her happy. Yes, I’m totally woman, old- or new-fashioned. I love those doors being opened for me, I adore being helped out of and into my coat, or having hubby and his male friends rise and button up their jackets when I enter a room, or when I get up to go powder my nose. And when I come back from the powdering too, of course.

I’m not a fan of misogynists in whatever veiled shade, shape or inclination. I’ve seen my bestie heartbroken and in bitter fights with her own child because the pubescent girl (thank internet and our smart kids) asked mother dear whether rape, beating, tying up, burning with candles and letting the boy/man wrap his hands around her throat and choke her was the norm in sex? And was that how dad and mother dear made her? The girl, in resolute disgust, swore off sex forever.

But I do get weak-kneed and love strong dominant men who are perfect gentlemen – until they get to the bedroom.

That said, my heroines don’t fall into that trap so many women end up in: That when he does something good or loving, it cancels out all the bad. Like in real life, that never works in the end, it simply becomes a habit and with that comes resignation. Mutual consent is not the equivalence of a restaurant’s “all you can eat”. I make sure my heroine has an alternative ‘safeword’ for “this isn’t what I thought it was or imagined it would be like”, when a situation crops up that hadn’t been anticipated and shouldn’t happen in any circumstance. A heroine’s consent isn’t “all inclusive”.

And compromises are not made solo.

Here are ten things I make sure my heroine’s man would never, ever dream of doing:

1. Prince Charming or Bad Boy, he’d never hold her past against her.

2. Despite his family, himself or (if he has them with someone else) his children, she remains his Numero Uno of all Numero Unos. She comes first and at his side when he needs to take care of the family, children, or needs some alone time for himself. She’ll never be the spare wheel, never left in the back seat.

3. He’d never wrinkle his nose, accuse her or call her names because of her sexual desires or preferences. Of course she’ll tell him about them. It’s where the relationship runs healthy on mutual compromises.

4. Likewise, he’d never expect her to fulfill all of his fantasies. People are too individual as human beings and will never end up with a loved one who is precisely like them in the fantasy department.

5. Even while angry, he’d never turn that anger on her by belittling or humiliating her. If he’s stewing within, he’ll still treat her with respect. He’d never talk down to her or speak to her with total disregard of her feelings. Even in a BDSM relationship, fundamental humanity is prerogative in the couple’s shared life. It’s why people describe it as “role playing”. Shared normal and everyday life and love isn’t role playing.

6. He’d never toss the I’m-not-talking-to-you BS at her. I’m personally very averse to withdrawal as a form of physical and emotional punishment and I project this on my heroines. Whatever stress, quarrel or disagreement he’s had with her or with someone or something else, using coldness as punishment is one of the unhealthiest traits in a relationship. In a non-toxic relationship, he’ll tell her why he wants to be alone, however long that might be. She might fret with concern but she’ll be aware of the reason why he wants his privacy.

7. He’d never be frivolous or cavalier about her feelings. A man intent on a healthy relationship will not discount her feelings constantly, making her wonder if there is something wrong with her.

8. He won't make fun of her in front of friends. My heroine jolly well knows the difference between fond teasing and malicious commentary, however jocular.

9. He’d never skirt around soothing her fears or insecurities. Instead, he’ll help her face her fears head-on particularly after a confrontation between the two of them, or a nasty situation or occurrence that unsettled her. The unhealthy man doesn’t have time to make you feel better, nor does he care why you’re upset. I never let my heroine tolerate any of this but rather speak out about her feelings on the subject.

10. My heroine will never tolerate a selfish man. A good loving man can give back without any selfishness wedged in. He wants to give her his all, and is willing to give up what doesn’t make her happy. He wants to be his best self to her. He’s healthy enough to take but also give back, and ready to apologize if he acts selfishly. Best of all, he’s ready to change his behavior exclusively for her happiness.

About my new book Her Ravishing Heartless Prince: This sizzling new romance is a stand-alone spin-off from my phenomenally successful Golden Shana series. I‘ve given two of the secondary characters their own fiery relationship – and their own Happily Ever After.

Blurb

He’s a European prince with over a thousand-year-old
lineage and he hates her as much as he craves her

Alyssa

When I’m introduced to Prince Carl-Theodor Frederick Maximillian Christoph Albert Maria Johann Anselm 17th Prince of Saxony-Bremer and Lautenburg-Bornheim an-der-Elbe, I’m as breathless as his endless name. Something savage twists inside me. Gorgeous and charming as he might be, I don't trust men like him, men who believe they're a superior species, who wield near-unlimited power with the license of ancient nobility.

Instinct warns me to keep away or I might get burnt to a cinder.

It's easier and safer to pretend he doesn't touch me. So I use my imagination to dream up insults, abusing and defaming him and his family. Meanwhile, I try to avoid him.

Until I can’t, because he turns out to be irresistible. Soon, he has me on my knees before him, which, alas, is exactly where I want to be. But what does he want? Prince Hot and Cold, arctic ice and lava, he brings me to the edge of insanity.

Prince Carl-Theodor of Saxony-Bremer

At first sight, Alyssa blinds me with her beauty.

Then she wrecks my being like a derailed express train.

Never has anyone so deeply insulted me or my family. Rage transfixes me, my pride so deeply injured that it seems my heart bleeds into my innards.

Since my father died, I am Head, Protector, and Defender of the House of Saxony-Bremer. I won't endure hearing my family slandered, then do nothing about it. I vow to avenge my bloodline, to pay her back in kind for her vicious words. I'll make her hurt, make her taste her own medicine.

But hurting her f*cking turns around to hurt me. I can bend her to my will, but once she's tamed, once she hurts like hell, her pain reaches out to me. Have I committed myself to a vow I can’t keep?

NOTE: This book is strictly for mature readers 18 and over.

Amazon * Bookbub * Goodreads

Book Links
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0F6KPD91P

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/her-ravishing-heartless-prince-by-a-p-von-k-ory

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/232083624-her-ravishing-heartless-prince

 

Excerpt

The flight crew announces that our flight will last about six and a half hours. Enough time, I decide, to do as much work as possible so that I’ll have some free hours to spend shopping or sightseeing when we land in Dubai.

I’m steeped in sorting out Promotion Expenses from Advertising Expenses and tax deductible Business Expenses when I sense a shift in the air around me.

My head instantly swims in the subtle mist of bergamot and Sicilian mandarin with a side dish of cardamom, nutmeg and thyme, garnished with pure unadulterated male musk.

Intoxicating.

A smell I’d recognize in my sleep.

I lift my chin and fix my gaze in midair before glancing at the presence sitting on me like a mountain. He stands there like a Roman column in the Forum, eyeing my charts and figures on my MacBook screen. The delphinium eyes perched atop Hephaestus sculpted chin and jawline are – thank God! – not looking at me. I try not to break my own spine, sitting as ramrod straight as if I’m transfixed.

His body is all over my skin like an Australian bushfire burning on the spot.

Because time has stopped.

The world has stopped.

All activities are in my head and body.

I swallow, praying for time to hurry up and get me past this horrible moment.

“Excellent work,” he says softly in the deep voice he should use when gently caressing something he worships.

The fire on my skin pops and tingles, spreading in ever increasing concentric waves of circles like those on the surface of a pond after a stone is thrown in the water.

I look up at him towering over me. “Are you my supervisor?” I manage to say so calmly I surprise myself.

A slow smile spreads halfway somewhere on his devastating face but I don’t wait to see where.

“The mores of civil human behaviour, Alyssa.”

He hits me back with my own argument of a while ago.

I need all I can garner to calm my shivers.

Because I’m in the fangs of a rogue desire deep inside me that heats up and tears through my blood. A hungry heat. A starving desire. The air between us is visibly vibrating like metal – subtle but so intense and there that the vibrations caress the skin on my nape, real and savage like a vampire’s breath. The tingle is like a caged animal clawing and banging its head at the bars for freedom.

Carl-Theodor steps even closer to me shifting the air around us some more, like a whirlwind suddenly picking up a furious speed.

I feel something incredibly warm, soft and heavy land on my shoulder out of the blue forcing a whimper to escape me as I gasp. My heart pole-vaults into my throat.

“It’s meant as a genuine compliment, flower. Relax.”

The soft heavy warmth is gone as suddenly as it had come. He strides away back to his seat with the grace of a barbaric warrior king.

Al, relax. You’re not the self-doubting sort.

Jesus.

 

 **Don’t miss the Golden Shana series!**

Series Trailer

https://youtu.be/WkGuFzsRgsM

The Chase

Golden Shana Book 1

A glimpse of her in the opera house made me a walking calamity. A dismissive smirk instead of her name scorched me. I’d hunt her down till I find and claim her as mine.

…Get it on Amazon

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00WA7M3OC

The Capture

Golden Shana Book 2

I longed to erect a fortress around her to keep out men not worthy of looking at her. But she’ll not be safe; I’ll devour her myself.

…Get it on Amazon

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00WA7M5GS/

The Untouchable

Golden Shana Book 3

I loved owning women, then I found my woman. But she would never be owned, not even by the gods. I’m soon waging wars with her dangerous criminal ex.

…Get it on Amazon

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07HLPWKYD/

The Deception

Golden Shana Book 4

My fearless woman goes after her tormentor behind my back. A dangerous criminal who eludes Europol and Interpol. I must eliminate the enemy before he harms her.

…Get it on Amazon

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08QLCNCGB

The Conquest

Golden Shana Book 5

I’m going to hurt her, but I’d rather kill our love than have my empress bound with the chains of a dead man who’d been her nightmare for more than ten years…

…Get it on Amazon

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09KH6CC6V/

About the Author 

A P von K’Ory writes romance, psychological thrillers, and nonfiction. She loves diversity – it’s in her aristocratic DNA. She has won more than half a dozen prizes and awards from four continents. Her family stretches from the Nilotes of the Eastern African Nile Delta to Germany, France, and the Walloons (Belgium). She lectures Economics and Sociology in Austria, Germany, and Switzerland. She’s married and has a son. Being migratory –  and weather willing –  she lives in Germany, France, Cyprus, and Greece. 

Website * Facebook * X * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

Author Links

Website: https://apvonkory.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAPVonKOry

X: https://x.com/Apky11162

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/apvonkory

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/a-p-von-k-ory

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/A-P-Von-KOry/author/B00MDHD7ZS

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7063572.A_P_Von_K_Ory

Giveaway

$10 Amazon gift certificate to one lucky reader!

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

https://sdbook.promo/HerRavishingHeartlessPrince

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

 

 

More than one way to beat the blues ... #BookCovers #ThreeWayRomance #MFRWHooks

For today’s MFRW Book Hooks hop, I have an excerpt from Wild About That Thing, one of the six polyamorous novellas in my boxed set Triad. 

This post was inspired by an email from artist James at GoOnWrite.com, who is responsible for many of my favorite covers. He is currently branching out into trailers and animated book covers. Just for the heck of it, he sent me a brief animation of the original Triad cover.

I was pretty impressed... and I’ve been even more impressed by some of his other animations. If you’re interested in learning more, I encourage you to visit his web site referenced above, or to contact him directly at HumbleNations [at] Gmail.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy my three-way hook.

Wild About That Thing Blurb

There’s more than one way to beat the blues

Ruby Jones has clear priorities. Her teenage son comes first, then her struggling blues club. Her love life ranks as a distant third, despite the efforts of Zeke Chambers to convince her otherwise. Zeke’s the lead singer in her house band, a devoted friend, and an occasional lover. He can drive her wild with desire, but can’t get her to make a commitment. Deserted by her cheating ex-husband, Ruby’s determined she’s going to make it on her own. She’s hot-blooded like her bluesman daddy, happy to satisfy her physical cravings, but she’s not about to let any man into her heart.

The stranger who takes the stage on open mike night upsets the delicate balance in Ruby’s world. From the moment Ruby sets eyes on him, Remy Saint-Michel inspires irresistible lust and inexplicable sympathy. Confused, guilty and worried about her prized independence, Ruby decides that the only way to deal with the two men is to push them both away. Zeke and Remy, however, have other ideas.

The Hook

Ruby sat at the bar for a moment, gazing at the stage. She could picture them up there, singing their hearts out. Remy and Zeke. Had she made a mistake, pushing them away? But she couldn’t handle them both. It was just too complicated. And how could she give one of them up? Would they still be part of her world if she had to give up the club? What would happen to them all?

Tears gathered in her eyes as she started up the stairs. She noticed in passing that the door to her office was ajar. She pushed it open and took a step inside.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Zeke sat at her desk. He waved a sheet of paper in her face. She recognized the fancy stationery. “Damn it, Ruby, I’m your friend. When you’re in trouble, I wanna know!” His normally fair complexion flushed beet red. His brows drew together in a furious scowl and his eyes were blue steel.

“I—I didn’t want to bother you,” Ruby stammered. “It—um. Well, it’s my problem. I figured I’d deal with it.”

“Your problems are my problems.” He rose to tower over her. “When are you going to understand?” For a moment she thought he was going to take her in his arms. She held her breath, watching the struggle on his face. Please, she begged silently. She desperately needed the comfort she knew he could provide.

But he turned away, sinking back into her chair, burying his face in his hands. After a moment, he looked up. His anger had fled. In its place she saw pain and resignation.

“This isn’t working, Ruby. I think it’s time for me to get out of here. I can’t get through to you. Sure, you’ll give me your body—though lately not even that—but you won’t allow me into your heart. I’m heading back to Mississippi. New York’s just too cold for me.”

“Zeke—no—please…” Ruby grabbed his arm. Life without Zeke… The idea was too bleak to consider. She’d tried not to depend on him, but now she couldn’t imagine what she’d do without him.

“Don’t go! Please! I’m sorry I’m so prickly. It’s just that—after Otis… Well, I swore that I’d make it on my own, without any man to prop me up. After taking care of myself for so long, it’s hard for me to let go. But I love you, baby, honestly I do. And if you stay, I promise to show you.”

She pulled Zeke out of the chair and into her arms, holding on for dear life. At first he held back, but after a moment he returned the hug. His warm, masculine scent surrounded her, flooding her with carnal memories.

He nibbled her ear and palmed her breasts through her best silk blouse. “God, I’ve missed you, darlin’. I’ve rubbed myself raw, thinkin’ of you…”

“Let’s go upstairs.” Ruby reached down to stroke him. “We’ve got the place to ourselves right now…”

As though to contradict her, someone rang the bell on the street level. “What the hell?”

Zeke rumbled, licking his way down her throat. “Just ignore it.”

“Ah—um… It could be Isaiah. He’s supposed to be at a friend’s this afternoon but he might have forgotten his keys.” Reluctantly, Zeke released her so she could check the security camera.

Ruby gasped. The lean, leather-clad figure outside rang again.

“What’s he doing here?” It was impossible to miss the suspicion in Zeke’s voice.

“I don’t know.” She pressed the button to release the lock. Remy bounded up the stairs and burst into the office.

“I’ve got to talk to you, Ruby!” He seized her hand. As usual, his touch made her burn. “There’s something you need to understand. I’m so sorry, I should have told you—” He stopped, sniffed, and sucked air into his lungs, as if inhaling her essence. “Oh, chere, I’ve missed you so these last few days…” Before she could protest, Remy engulfed her, his mouth cemented to hers in a kiss that left her weak and breathless.

“Uh—hum.” Zeke’s voice shattered the lascivious trance induced by Remy’s presence. “So I was right after all.” He stood up, favoring them with a half-smile. “If you’ll just let me past, I’ll excuse myself so you two can be alone.”

Ruby released her hold on Remy so she could block Zeke’s path. “Wait! Zeke, please! I don’t want you to leave, baby. I love you.”

Remy whirled her around to face him. “What about me, chere? Should I go, then? I was under the impression that you wanted me, but perhaps I was wrong.” Fury blazed in his dark eyes, but Ruby saw that was only a mask. Underneath lurked an ocean of sorrow, threatening to drown him.

“No, no—I do want you. Oh God, Remy! I think I love you, too.”

“You can’t love both of us, darlin’. Be reasonable. You’ve got to choose.” Zeke shrugged. “He’s younger than I am, handsomer, a lot richer. Hell, he’s even a better musician. Take him. I’ll understand.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re the one who’s loved and supported her, who’s helped her build her dream. I’m basically a stranger. Ruby, chere, I don’t know if I can live without you, but Zeke’s your true love. It’ll break my heart, but I’ll go. Choose him. It’s only right.”

Ruby looked from one of her lovers to the other, as each pleaded the other’s case. They were both so dear…

 

Triad is exclusive on Amazon and free for KU subscribers. However, the individual books in the collection are all available wide. See my website for details and buy links: https://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html

Be sure to visit the other authors participating in today’s Book Hooks!

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Last chance to snag a great Pride Month deal! #PrideMonth #99cents

Today is the last day of June (i.e. Pride Month). That means it’s your last chance to snag a copy of my MM paranormal romance At the Margins of Madness for only 99 cents!

Blurb

Nineteen year old Kyle sees visions of disasters, visions that tear his world apart. Everyone assumes that he is schizophrenic, but Rob, the cop who picks him up off the street, knows better.

Rob's own experience has taught him that psychic powers are real, and potentially devastating. Since his telepathic sister's brutal murder, Rob wants nothing to do with "gifted" individuals like Kyle. Yet he can't deny his attraction to the beautiful, tortured young man – an attraction that appears to be mutual.

When a brilliant, sadistic practitioner of the black arts lures Kyle into his clutches, Rob faces the possibility that once again he may lose the person he loves most to the forces of darkness.

Reviews

Ms. Sarai’s writing is very strong. She brings her characters to life and helps us experience Kyle’s nearly complete aloneness. ... I really enjoyed this book—recommended! ~ Dee S. Knight, Romance Author (Amazon, Five Stars)

I did like the mix bag of good and evil that Ms. Sarai placed in front of Kyle and Rob. There was the power hunger ogre, the eager sidekick and of course the oracle (my phrase) who would be the one to guide Kyle through this most confusing and important time in his life. ~ Erotic Horizon (Goodreads)

Get your copy of this intense, erotically-charged novel today, before the price rises to the usual $4.99!

Buy Links

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/B09QQG683R/

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/B09QQG683R

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/at-the-margins-of-madness-lisabet-sarai/1140911192?ean=2940165754531

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1127718

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/at-the-margins-of-madness-a-tale-of-power-and-love

Apple Books: https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id1606236845

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/60179575-at-the-margins-of-madness

Charity Sunday: Pushing Back – #LGBTQ #PrideMonth #CharitySunday

Last June, at the end of Pride Month, I dedicated my Charity Sunday to GLBTQ Legal Advocates & Defenders (GLAD Law), an organization that provides information and support to LGBTQ individuals and which advocates for legal protections and equal rights. Despite enduring problems, it seemed last year that we were making some progress toward a society where gay, lesbian, bisexual and non-binary people were accepted, if not embraced.

 

This year is a different story. People with non-conforming gender identities, especially transgender individuals, are under attack – legally and physically – by the current administration in the United States. Every day, it seems, we read about a new law or executive order curtailing the rights and freedoms of queer people It’s very scary. With the official narrative being anti-gay, homophobia is flourishing and violence against LGBTQ people has risen dramatically:

https://lapublicpress.org/2024/12/hate-crimes-transgender-lgbtq-los-angeles/

According to Human Rights Campaign, 20% of hate crimes are motivated by gender issues. https://www.hrc.org/press-releases/new-fbi-data-anti-lgbtq-hate-crimes-continue-to-spike-even-as-overall-crime-rate-declines

It’s easy to feel discouraged and scared. But organizations like GLAD are active in the community and in the courts, working for equality. In fact, non-traditional gender orientations are increasingly accepted by the majority of people. And many legal decisions have affirmed that queer individuals are in fact entitled to equal rights and protections.

So my Charity Sunday today is defiant. We will not give up. We will push back. We will stand up for the principle that every human should have the right to love whomever they choose.

And for every comment I receive on this post, I will donate three dollars, rather than my usual two, to GLAD.

For my excerpt, I’m sharing a bit from my dystopian MM romance The H-Gene. This near-future sci-fi novel portrays a horrific but (unfortunately) believable America where everyone suspected of being homosexual is imprisoned in isolated internment camps – if not murdered outright.

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?

Excerpt

As they approached the corner of Market and Dolores, a wall of grey steel slats, nearly two stories high, rose in front of them. Red-lettered signs plastered the hoarding—“Contaminated Area. Extreme danger. Do not enter”—plus scowling skull and crossbones icons for those citizens who couldn’t read. The official notices were augmented by coarser, more casual notices—“Die fags!” and “Kill the queers”. Dylan was used to such sentiments, but Rafe’s body stiffened as they approached the barrier.

The fence ran left along the west side of Dolores as far as they could see. Meanwhile, it stretched for blocks along Market. It appeared at first to be impenetrable, but at Castro there was a closed gate, wide enough for a bulldozer. Dylan was surprised to find that the entry was bolted but not locked and that there no guards. He scanned the power poles and neighboring buildings. He didn’t see any cameras, though that meant little.

Market Street was momentarily empty of both people and vehicles. “This is our chance,” he told his companion in a loud whisper. “Now!” He slipped the bolt and cracked open the door.

“Wait—maybe we shouldn’t… The Plague…” Rafe hung back as Dylan stepped partway inside.

“Come on!” Dylan hooked Rafe’s upper arm and yanked him into the shadows on the other side of the door. Rafe stumbled on a heap of debris. Dylan steadied him. Nervous sweat beaded the black man’s brow.

Sympathy tightened Dylan’s chest. Poor Rafe. Despite his gang background, he wasn’t used to being hunted. Plus he still believed the Guardians’ propaganda. Dylan pulled off his mask, stuffing it into his back pocket, then moved to do the same with Rafe’s.

“No!” The ex-guard backed away. “I’ll keep it on.”

“Don’t be silly,” Dylan laughed, snatching the mask away and planting a kiss on Rafe’s mouth. He felt his lover relax a bit. “I’m sure we’re being watched in here. We need to show who we are, so they know they can trust us.” He pushed the hood back, exposing Rafe’s scowling face.

“But the Plague…”

“Artemis said it was safe, that the disease has died out. Don’t you believe her?”

“Um—I’m not sure…”

“Well, I do. She’s one smart lady. I think the Plague is the least of our worries.” He held out his hand to his hesitant partner. “It’ll be okay, Rafe. As long as we’re together, we’re okay.”

Rafe grunted in reply, but he allowed Dylan to lead him deeper into the exclusion zone.

The devastation was more extensive than anything they’d seen so far. The streets were pocked with grenade craters and lined with heaps of charred rubble that had once been buildings. In some places it was difficult to walk. They trudged uphill, dodging piles of debris, scanning for any signs of life. It was eerily silent. The babble from the vidscreens didn’t seem to penetrate here.

Dylan checked the map, then turned left on to a narrower street. Half-demolished wooden structures leaned at crazy angles around them. “This should be Church,” he told Rafe as they took a right. “And that should be Wilde Baths.”

He pointed to a three-storey, stucco building across the road. The roof had caved in on the left, but the right side of the edifice appeared to be intact. Splintered boards shuttered the windows. Weeds sprouted on the sills. Despite its dodgy appearance, however, Wilde Baths had a very solid-looking front door.

Dylan knocked—three long, two short, one long—the way Artemis had instructed. Sixty seconds went by. No one answered. The buzz of a helicopter sounded overhead. His heart slammed against his ribs. Could Artemis have betrayed them?

As though sensing his unease, Rafe put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Dylan took a deep breath and knocked again.

Hinges creaked and the door opened an inch or two. “Yeah?” The unseen man sounded annoyed, even angry.

“We’re friends of Oscar,” Dylan answered with the pass phrase. “Artemis sent us. We need to talk to Hammer.”

The gap widened another few inches. A slender man with a trim goatee glared at them. “Hammer’s not here now.”

“Can we come in? Wait for him?” Rafe interjected. The engine noise grew louder. “It’s not safe for us out here.”

The man’s eyes flicked over them, weighing the risks. Finally he nodded. “Okay.” Stepping back, he let them enter, then bolted the door behind them. “Here.” He handed each of them a folded, dingy-looking towel and a key, then pointed down a dimly lit corridor. “Locker room’s at the end of the hall. Baths are in the basement, massage on the second floor. I’ll come find you when he gets back.” Dylan didn’t expect the grin that twitched at the man’s thin mouth. “Have fun.”

“Wait a minute…” Rafe tried to return the towel.

Dylan grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall. “Thanks,” he called back. “We really appreciate it.”

Rafe struggled to extricate his hand from Dylan’s grip. “Stop,” he hissed. “No way I’m getting naked in front of a bunch of queers.”

“Oh, really? Do you want to go back outside, then? Well, go ahead.” Dylan was suddenly furious. How could he love such a damned homophobe? “Maybe that copter wasn’t looking for us after all. Anyway, you’re not queer. You don’t have to worry. You can explain it all. How you were tricked into helping some Plague-infected perv escape quarantine. It wasn’t your fault, was it? Sneaky little fag must have drugged you or something. You’re straight as Uncle Ike, right?”

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