Showing posts with label gay erotic romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gay erotic romance. Show all posts

Sunday, July 26, 2020

Charity Sunday: Education and Literacy in the Time of COVID - #CharitySunday #RoomToRead


Charity Sunday Banner

Welcome to another Charity Sunday! Today I am supporting one of my favorite organizations, Room to Read. Room to Read helps to set up locally-controlled and managed programs to increase access to education and to encourage reading in poorer countries including India, Nepal, Rwanda, Sri Lanka and Jordan, with a special focus on learning opportunities for girls.

I get lots of fund-raising emails from the causes I support (and from others that want my cash). Room to Read consistently talks about their successes and progress in those emails – rather than wringing their hands and trying to tell me how terrible everything is. I truly appreciate this. The world faces problems that seem insurmountable, but in fact local efforts by passionate individuals make a difference. I remember one email that showed up in my box at the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, talking about a teacher in India who, when schools were shut down, rode his bike around the village, every day, delivering books to each of his students. A small gesture, perhaps – but one that could have a lasting impact on a few, important lives.


The pandemic has disrupted education for 9 out of 10 children in the world, with children in low income countries the worst affected. In response, Room to Read has supported a range of “distance learning” programs that depend not on the Internet (which is not available in most of their target areas) but on human connectivity. You can read more about these programs here: https://give.roomtoread.org/campaign/covid-19-urgent-appeal/c278379

So, today I will donate $2 to Room to Read’s COVID urgent appeal, for each comment I receive.

And to thank you for joining today’s event, I’ve got another exclusive excerpt from my new release The H-Gene. This MM scifi erotic romance takes place two and a half decades from today, in a U.S. that has been devastated and depopulated by a terrible Plague. Even before the Plague, however, the country was on a downward trajectory, due to global warming, environmental degradation, natural and man-made disasters and intergroup conflict. Education has declined to the point that some citizens no longer know how to read. Propaganda nevertheless survives...



Exclusive Excerpt

By the time Dylan and Rafe had finished consulting with Hammer, returned to the locker room and dressed, dusk was falling. Shadows made the shattered landscape of the exclusion zone even more forbidding. Rafe had relaxed somewhat during their technical discussion of streaming servers, encrypted feeds and specialized codecs, but now, as they made their way back to the gate, Dylan felt the other man’s unease.

The fear was contagious. Sweat gathered in Dylan’s armpits. Adrenaline boosted his pulse. Three days had elapsed since their escape, more than enough time for the Guardians to have disseminated images and particulars of the two fugitives. As they trudged along Market, hoods pulled over their masked faces, Dylan ventured a glance up at one of the screens. Just the usual programming,Technicolor fantasies of peace and plenty—glimpses of a world that was long gone.

He monitored the broadcast while he and Rafe waited to cross the street at one of the remaining traffic signals. It was six p.m., what passed for rush hour these days in Sanfran. A steady stream of miscellaneous vehicles flowed past.

A public service announcement popped up, full of chubby babies and clean-cut, beaming parents, offering free fertility augmentation. This was followed by an ad for Saturday’s rally, details posted both in English words and in simple icons that made reading unnecessary. There were no security advisories, no mug shots of his face, or Rafe’s.

He recalled his theory, that the Guardians might be unwilling to publicly admit his escape. That didn’t necessarily lessen the danger. A mini-copter droned overhead. He dropped his eyes to the ground, hiding behind his minimalist disguise, jumpy as a rabbit expecting the swoop of a hawk.

The red LED finally switched to green. Rafe strode forward into the intersection. The movement jolted Dylan out of his nervous fugue. He hurried after his lover, trying to catch up.

Halt!” The flat, mechanical voice was a remembered nightmare. Dylan looked over his shoulder. A Robbie loomed on the corner they’d just left, its black carapace flickering in the light from the vidscreen. Its multi-function gripper extruded the sparking prongs of a tasegun.

Halt, citizen 33609861022. Surrender, by order of the Guardians.”

Dylan sprinted across the street, snatching at Rafe’s sweatshirt. “Hurry!” He kept his voice down, not wanting to attract the attention of other pedestrians. They might be more deadly than the android. “Come on!” The signal had changed again and, for the moment, the Robbie was trapped on the opposite side.

Rafe gave a single glance backwards and understood immediately. He loped up the sidewalk, moving fast, but not running, not yet. Dylan struggled to keep up with the pace of his longer-legged companion.

Ignoring the red light, the hulking robot stepped into the road. Vehicles squealed to a stop. The Robbie marched across the road, each stride covering twice as much distance as Dylan’s own. People on the sidewalk shrank away from the ambulatory tank barreling along the broken pavement. “Halt! Halt!” the Robbie continued to intone, waving the Taser in their direction, gaining on them by the second.

Run!” Rafe yelled back at him, following his own advice. The powerful black man streaked along Market, then ducked into a side street. Dylan raced after him, breathing hard as he strained to catch up. The Robbie was nearly in range. Desperate, Dylan summoned every ounce of energy and channeled it to his pumping legs.

The street sloped upward. Rafe had almost reached the top of the hill, a good twenty yards ahead. Dylan’s calves screamed from the effort. His chest ached with each labored breath. His hood had slipped off and his hair clung to his forehead, soaked with sweat. I won’t go back, he told himself, pushing himself to the limit. I’d rather die.

***

Remember, every one of your comments helps to secure an education and improve the future for young women in low income countries. And please do visit the other authors who are participating in Charity Sunday today. (You'll find their links below.) Each one is supporting a cause dear to his or her heart.

Thursday, March 5, 2020

A hot read spiced with BDSM - #gayromance #dominance #submission @KetaDiablo




Blurb

The dreaded day had arrived. And this year, February 14th, had a dual meaning. Since his breakup a month ago with his boyfriend, Valentine Giovanni, Deke’s life seemed meaningless. What had he expected? The moment Val found out he’d cheated on him, the shit hit the fan... and Deke’s shoes hit the pavement.

He didn’t have time to explain why he cheated, and Val wouldn’t believe him. Val deserved better, a submissive that completely trusted him, who’d commit wholly to his rough sex and demands. So rather than talk over his fears and insecurities, Deke forced a breakup by exposing a liaison with another man.

It was a painful scene, an angry, gut-wrenching debacle that ended in a screaming match. Deke thought he’d feel relief when it was over, but every day was more dismal than the last, and all he felt was emptiness. He’d never loved anyone like he loved Val. He realized that now.

And tonight, he planned to grovel and beg for forgiveness, prove his love to the man.

* Scorchingly hot (handcuffs, bondage, spanking)

* Standalone novella

* No cliffhangers

* Happily-Ever-After

Excerpt

Val’s rage filled up the empty space between them. It radiated off him like hot vapors. Deke realized so many things at that moment, his stupid compulsiveness, his underestimation of what made Val tick. Even if Val decided to give him another chance, and that was a big if, Deke would have to regain his trust, prove he could take whatever his Dom dished out. Right now, both seemed insurmountable.

Deke closed the distance between them again. “I’m asking for another chance. I won’t ever hurt you again, and deep down, I know I make you happy.”

Val stared at him and pushed a long lock of ebony hair from his forehead. When his blue eyes bore into his, Deke almost dropped to his knees and begged.

This is something you realized just now?”

No, I realized it in the month we’ve been apart. I dissected every moment of our relationship, tore apart every fiber and reason for my indiscretion.”

Ha!” Another curt laugh from Val. “Is that how you dismiss cheating, call it an indiscretion. Jesus, Deke, I don’t know whether to laugh at the absurdity or cry over the stupidity.” He blew a long puff of exasperated air. “Why should I believe you wouldn’t cheat again?”

Stammering like a school boy, he said, “I’ll prove it to you, do anything you ask.”

Anything?”

Yes.” His heart thudded at the thought of what Val would demand from him. “I’ll do whatever it takes to have you back in my life again, like it was before.”

Your punishment will be severe.”

Deke swallowed, hard. “I expect it to be. I can take it; let me come home with you and prove it.”

Buy Links

Kindle Unlimited ONLY

About the Author

Keta Diablo lives in the Midwest part of the United States on six acres of gorgeous woodland. When she isn't writing or gardening, she loves to commune with nature. A pair of barn owls returns to the property every year to birth their young and show them off in the high branches of the oak trees. Nothing more adorable than these white fluffy babies with heart-shaped faces. A lifelong animal lover, Keta devotes her time and support to the local animal shelter. Emma LaPounce, a rescued feline, has been her furry companion for the last ten years.

Keta is an award-winning and bestselling author who writes in several genres: Western Romance, Historical Romance, Paranormal Romance and Contemporary Romance. Occasionally, she writes Gay Romance.

Her books have received numerous accolades, including RWA contest finalist, Authors After Dark finalist, Top Pick of the Month and Recommended Review from many top review sites, and Best Romance Finalist from The Independent Author Network.

Keta would love to have you follow her on the Net:


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Monday, March 2, 2020

The magic of the Winter solstice .... #MMRomance #PNR #Giveaway



Gabbi is offering a $5 Amazon GC and 2 ebooks of My Past, Your Future during the giveaway. Please use the Rafflecopter below to enter. Remember you may enter every day for your chance to win so be sure to follow along on the tour with us. You may find the tour locations here http://bit.ly/2OYUyh4

About My Past, Your Future

Callum MacLaren, a professor from Scotland, visits Willow Springs, Vermont during the Winter Solstice to study and explore the rich history of St. Joseph's Cemetery. His encounter with a sexy soldier in a tattered Civil War uniform is a captivating puzzle, and the more he learns, the deeper his attraction.

A hundred and fifty years ago, Elijah Freeman was killed during the Second Battle of Fort Wagner and woke up in Willow Springs, the only home he'd known. Alone, he roams the town, unable to leave or interact with a single soul until an intriguing Scot addresses him. Even stranger, the man can see him, hear him, and touch him--a sizzling caress that leaves Elijah aching for more.

But will Elijah return to his ghostly form when the magic of the solstice fades, or is Callum's love enough to keep him in the land of the living?

Genre: M/M Paranormal Erotic Romance

Buy Links



KOBO: (coming soon)

iBooks: (coming soon)

Publisher: (coming soon)



Excerpt

I’m not sure I have many answers.” And Elijah wasn’t. He’d figured a few things out over the years, but much of it was contradictory and nonsensical. Still, he relaxed a little, no longer on edge.

Well, let’s start with you being able to touch people and them able to touch you.” As if experimentally, he placed his hand on Elijah’s. “You’re cold. Are you always cold, or is it the weather?”

Elijah cleared his throat. This was the first human touch he’d had in years, and it affected him more than he’d ever imagined. Not that he’d spent a lot of time wondering because he’d assumed it’d never happen. Should he have tried earlier, or was it, as he suspected, only this man?

Please don’t let go of my hand.

Cautiously, he curled his fingers, holding on tighter.

Callum reciprocated.

As for temperature. I don’t understand. I don’t feel cold now, and I don’t feel hot in the summer. And summers around here can be brutal, despite how far north we are.”

Callum nodded. “Edinburgh, where I’m from, can get warm in the summer. But we’re closer to the northern point of the country, so it’s temperate as opposed to oppressive.”

His thumb caressed the juncture where Elijah’s thumb met his finger, and little zings shot through him. Like the sound he associated with the electric lights when they turned on at dusk. Of course, the whole concept of electricity was beyond him.

About the Author

I live surrounded by trees, raccoons, deer, and other woodland creatures, on a mountain in beautiful British Columbia where my fur baby chin poo keeps me safe from nasty bears.

Working for the government by day, I spend my nights writing contemporary, gay, sweet, and dark erotic BDSM romances…and while I firmly believe in happy endings, I also believe in making my characters suffer before finding their true love.

Gabbi's Social Links









Thursday, January 9, 2020

Yearning for a ghost? #MMRomance #ParanormalRomance #EvernightPublishing @Parr_Books

Shower You with Love cover

Blurb

Chris Everhart attends his best friend’s weeklong wedding festivities. He meets handsome, enigmatic, Owen, and in a haze of attraction ignores the strangeness surrounding Owen. Convinced he’s falling in love, Chris spends every moment he can with Owen, until on the final day of his best friend’s celebrations he discovers a heartbreaking and shocking truth. He and Owen can never be together.

Traumatized, lonely, Chris can’t settle into another relationship, and then, after two years of wishing he could feel the way he felt for Owen with another man, fate intervenes. He meets gorgeous, gentle Matthew.

Spooked, Chris is about to run from Matthew who reminds him so much of Owen, but Matthew asks Chris to dance with him.

In Matthew’s arms, Chris can’t ignore the feeling of belonging that rushes over him.

Will he take the risk to love again, or continue to yearn for a ghost?

Excerpt

The early evening sun glowed in the sky. Birds still sang. The breeze caressed his face, gentle and warm. Only white wisps of cloud trailed across the sky. It was an evening meant to walk hand in hand with a lover.

Chris sighed and drank some of his whisky. Since his boyfriend left him nearly a year ago, he hadn’t met anyone who stirred his heart. If there were any gay guys at the gathering, he’d yet to identify them. Since he was the only gay man among his friendship group, Chris expected to be the only person who hadn’t hooked up with someone by the time the bride and groom met at the altar. He smiled to himself recalling a work colleague’s words about wedding festivities. “That’s what usually happens isn’t it … you sleep with someone out of sheer envy for the “glowing with love” bride and groom?” Chris had laughed when the guy put air commas around the words “glowing with love.” “Some might. I might not,” but in his heart he dearly wished for a gentle, handsome man to love. Chris was lonelier than he admitted to himself or anyone else.

Four days of games, parties, and outings stretched ahead of him. Chris forced a more positive mood. This is a beautiful estate. I should explore. Phil’s parents owned the huge old house on a wealth of gardens. Ben, Phil’s dad, ran his events planning business from there and often one or two of the large rooms were used for conferences. Presently, the estate was closed for two weeks as the families and friends assembled to celebrate Phil’s wedding.

He peeled the label that named him from his jacket lapel, and stuffed it into his pocket. Then left his half-empty glass on a bench beside a row of rose bushes, heavy with large pink blooms, and wandered off down the path that wound around the house. The hem of his jacket trailed along two of the flowers and the perfume shed by the roses followed him.

The path forked at a corner of the house, and Chris took the one that led into an archway of trees. The path beneath his feet changed. Some of the paving stones held large cracks where tiny white daisies grew among dark moss. Chris bent and picked one—so small, yet so perfect. He put it into the buttonhole on his collar. The tree branches met at their canopy and only a few slanting rays of sun penetrated. Some scented climbing flowers wove through the trees, twining around their trunks. Chris smiled, enjoying the fragrant enclosure. Peace dropped over him as he walked.

At the end of the path, he turned at a fork that led toward the house again. Chris considered striking out across the lawn for a look at what appeared to be a small round pond, but the evening sun had disappeared behind a bank of clouds. He glanced upward at the sky. A few large orbs of rain splattered on his face. Funny, only minutes ago it didn’t look like rain at all.

He walked more rapidly in the direction of the house as the sky became overcast. On this side of the building, he could see a long line of windows, two of which from that angle, seemed to be French doors, and they were flung open. As Chris neared them, strains of music floated in the descending twilight. Fairy lights glittered, strung across the tops of the doors, and as the rain fell, the drops reflected their silvery twinkle.

By the time Chris reached the entrance, dark stars of raindrops patterned his dove-gray suit jacket and dampened his face. Chris dashed into the room accessible from the large glass doors and froze. He’d expected this to be another way into the living room he’d left earlier, especially with the lure of music guiding him, but a totally different and smaller room lay before him, and in the middle of the parquet, a man danced a kind of waltz, alone, clutching a rectangular cushion to his chest.




Buy Links

On new release special price at Evernight Publishing!


OR available

Amazon








Find E. D. Parr







Friday, February 1, 2019

Fate hasn't finished with them -- #MMRomance #magic #gayeroticromance @elodieparkes


The Romantic banner
Blurb

Handsome Luke Kirby loves books, so when he finds boxes of old and beautiful tomes in a dusty shop, he can’t resist buying them. To his delight one of them contains what he hopes will bring an end to his loneliness and heartache. As he prepares to cast an ancient prayer spell to the god of love, across town Ethan Goss decides that moving to a new apartment will ease his broken heart.

With the help of an eccentric real estate agent, gorgeous Ethan goes to a viewing in the block where Luke lives.

When Luke meets Ethan in the lobby, it’s the start of a passionate love affair.

Fate hasn’t finished with the two handsome men—will true happiness evade them both?



Excerpt

In the lobby, Victor stopped walking. “I should show you the garden, but I need the key for the gate. It’s in my car. Wait here a moment.” He strode rapidly out of the front doors.

Ethan checked out the table in the foyer where mail sat in three neat stacks. One stack had a lot, the others not much at all. Ethan couldn’t help reading the names on the envelopes. As his gaze traveled over the addresses, someone clattered down the polished hardwood stairs.

Ethan turned to the footsteps.

A young man glanced up from watching where his feet fell. His blue eyes locked with Ethan’s stare.

Ethan gazed at him, and his stomach lurched. His heart pounded. Not one word would form in his mind other than, Wow.

The young man smiled, approaching the table. “Hi. I’m collecting my snail mail—yeah, not much as usual.”

Through a daze of attraction, Ethan watched the man pick up the two envelopes in his stack. He looked the young man up and down, taking in his hard body and fashionably cut dark hair. He held back a sigh of appreciation as the man turned to him.

Are you the new tenant?” He waved a hand at the apartment door.

His low voice traveled over Ethan like a glaze of melting honey. Ethan stared at the man’s handsome face. He is gorgeous. About my age, too. “I haven’t taken the place yet, just…just viewed it.”

The young man moved closer. “You should take it. There aren’t many places as good, big, and with a garden this close to the city.” He held out his hand. “Luke Kirby. I live on the third floor, but that’s my patch of garden next to yours, if you take the place. It might seem odd to have to trundle down the stairs to sit in the sun with my coffee, but I’ve grown used to it.” His eyes sparkled at Ethan. He held Ethan’s gaze as he talked.

Butterflies filled Ethan’s stomach. He couldn’t stop his heart hammering and wondered if he could actually speak, meeting Luke had such an effect on him. “Ethan Goss.” He shook Luke’s hand. What he felt like doing was pulling the guy close and kissing those perfect lips that moved again.

Pleased to meet you.” Luke held on to Ethan’s hand. His eyes held something unspoken.

A wave of longing rose through Ethan. His loneliness and need for sex put an ache in his stomach, replacing the butterflies. He glanced down at the strong hand gripping his, wondering if he could hold on a little longer, despite how weird that might be. Better not, that’s kinda creepy. All the same, it wasn’t Ethan who abandoned the handshake.

Luke let go but trailed his fingertips along Ethan’s palm as he withdrew his hand.

With his skin tingling from the touch, Ethan gazed into Luke’s blue eyes and knew. He’s gay. He somehow knows I am, too—probably the way I’m ogling him. He’s interested in me. Thank you, god. Ethan flashed his eyes at Luke with a flirtatious expression he usually reserved for cute guys he met in the gay bar.

About the Author

Elodie Parkes is a British author writing romance, erotic, contemporary, and often with a twist of mystery, paranormal, fantasy, or suspense. Her books are always steamy. 

Her tag is: Cool stories: Hot love scenes.
 
Elodie lives in Canterbury with her two dogs. She works in an antique shop by day and writes at night, loving the cloak of silent darkness that descends on the rural countryside around her home.



Buy Links


http://mybook.to/TheRomantic Will take you to your Amazon site



Saturday, December 15, 2018

Sizzling Sunday: Tomorrow's Gifts - #SizzlingSunday #MM #BDSM #99cents


Sizzling Sunday Banner

Welcome to another Sizzling Sunday. I am continuing to highlight my holiday books. Today I have a snippet from my MM BDSM holiday romance Tomorrow’s Gifts. This is one of the first gay romance stories I wrote. It features quite intense BDSM scenes. So if you’re looking for a soft-and-fuzzy MM holiday tale, this one probably isn’t for you. On the other hand, this story, which is definitely inspired by Dicken’s A Christmas Carol, deals with the very real issue of communication in a relationship, especially a D/s relationship.

Oh, by the way – this paranormal romance holiday tale is on sale for only 99 cents at most outlets, including the publisher and Amazon.

The ghost of Christmas future...

Michael loves his burly, powerful partner Neil, but he's too embarrassed to share his secret fantasies of submission and surrender. Frustrated and confused, he wonders whether he and Neil really belong together.

Then, on Christmas Eve, Michael receives a visit from a sexy Dom, Thorne Wilder, who claims to be his lover from the future. Thorne shows Michael scenes from a wild life of sexual excess that he claims they'll share if he breaks up with Neil.

Should Michael trust the ghost of Christmas future, or does his true future lie with Neil?


Excerpt

So, Michael. Have you been a good little boy?” Neil loomed over me, one hand against the wall on either side of my head. “Do you deserve the goodies that Santa’s brought for you?” Leaning forward, he trailed a wet tongue up my neck, from my open collar to just below my earlobe. When I squirmed in response, he flattened his pelvis against the lump growing in my jeans and fastened his mouth on mine. The fake beard got in the way. He ripped it off and resumed kissing me, while his hands slipped around me to cup my ass.

I loved the way Neil kissed, with his full body, investing his entire being into the process. I snuggled against his red felt jacket, allowing him to take possession of my mouth. His kisses were deep, wet, full of soul. They made me light-headed. They made me hard. I could taste the beer he had drunk at the party and the peppermint candy cane that we’d shared on the way home, but underneath there was the familiar flavour of Neil, my housemate, friend and lover.

I forced my hand between our bodies and fumbled at his zipper. “Oh, are you being a naughty little boy?” he breathed in my ear. “Santa will have to punish you.”

His words thrilled me. Oh, if only he would make good on his threats! I knew from experience that he was only teasing, though. But maybe tonight would be different. With the holiday high, the post-party buzz, maybe tonight he’d give me what I craved.

I wrenched his fly open and wriggled through the opening in his briefs until I had what I wanted – the silky sensation of his cock-skin under my fingers. My own cock throbbed as I stroked him, marvelling at the contrast between the rock-hard flesh underneath and the satin-smooth layer that enclosed it.

I wanted to sink to my knees and suck him, right there in the hallway. I wanted him to fuck my mouth until I gagged, then drown me in his come. Instead, he extricated my hand from his trousers and squeezed it affectionately. “Let’s go to bed, baby. Let’s get naked.”

I followed him down the corridor to the back of the flat. By the time I reached the bedroom, the Santa costume was a crumpled scarlet heap in one corner. Neil stood by the side of the bed, hands on his hips, his cock jutting proudly from the black tangle at his groin. He was a fearsome sight, a towering six foot four with thighs like tree trunks and arms that could crush you to a pulp. It’s true, his hairline had started to recede, and he had the barest beginnings of love handles. He was thirty six, after all. But he was still the powerful, bear-like guy I’d fallen in love with three years ago.

Before he knew what was happening, I was at his feet. I grabbed his cock and swallowed it whole, burying my nose in the fragrant, curly hair at its root. My balls tightened as I was washed in his scent. He moaned and jerked his hips, ramming the bulb against the back of my throat. My cock surged. When he heard me gag, though, Neil retreated, pulling halfway out of my mouth. I sucked him back in, swirling my tongue around his shaft, trying to make him lose control.

It didn’t work. He pumped in and out of my mouth with measured thrusts, careful not to plunge too deep. I reached between his legs, stroked his balls, brushed my finger across his sphincter, urged the tip inside. Neil groaned and clenched his cheeks together, trapping my hand. But he didn’t let go the way I wanted him to. He didn’t go crazy. He didn’t grab my hair and ram his cock down my throat, the way I’d imagined.

He felt wonderful. He tasted great. I knew that I was giving him pleasure. My own cock was huge, aching to be let out of my jeans. I felt his love, surrounding me. He was in touch with me – he could read my reactions. He knew when he was causing me pain. What he couldn’t sense, apparently, was the fact that I didn’t want him to stop.

Before long, he pulled out. Perhaps, at some level, he did feel my disappointment. “I’d much rather come in your tight little ass,” he told me with a grin as he undressed me, gleeful as a kid unwrapping a Christmas present. He ran his hand over my smooth pecs and down my belly. “God, Michael, you are one hot boy.” Grasping my cock in his fist, he smeared my pre-come over the bulb with his thumb. My hips jerked reflexively. “Yeah, that’s right. That’s a good little boy. Come for Santa.”