a look at J.R. Gray & ‘Capital Offense’ @booksbygray @evernightpub #Gay #Romance

On June 18, 2018June 7, 2018 By Casey's CornerIn Authors & Books, PublishersLeave a comment

Today we have author J.R. Gray visiting. Welcome!

What would you like to tell readers about yourself?

* When not staying up all night writing, J.R. Gray can be found at the gym where it’s half assumed he is a permanent resident to fulfill his self-inflicted masochism. A dominant and a pilot, Gray finds it hard to be in the passenger seat of any car. He frequently interrupts real life, including normal sleep patterns and conversations, to jot down notes or plot bunnies. Commas are the bane of his existence even though it’s been fully acknowledged they are necessary, they continue to baffle and bewilder. If Gray wasn’t writing…well, that’s not possible. The buildup of untold stories would haunt Gray into an early grave, insanity or both. The idea of haunting has always appealed to him. J.R. Gray is genderqueer and prefers he/him pronouns.

A look into…

~ Blurb ~

* All good things must come to an end.
* George is trying to hold his world together, but it’s crumbling and he doesn’t know who he’s even fighting anymore. All the people he loves are suffering because of him.
* Jesse is shattering because he can’t provide what George needs.
* Elliot is broken perhaps beyond repair.
* Zac is ruined by his own doing and isn’t fit to be what Elliot needs him to be.
* There is no soothing light at the end of this tunnel. The reckoning is coming and not even George can protect them from the monster of his past. They are splintering, trying to avoid the flames, but they must come together or become ashes.

~ Excerpt ~

* George picked up the container of sterile needles he’d been saving so Jesse could see them. “This will be a little like a tattoo.”
* “Oh God. You’re so close to my dick.”
* “If you hold perfectly still there is a good chance none will even come close to your cock, unless of course you want me to pierce it for you.”
* Jesse picked up his head. “Can you do that?”
* “Easily.”
* He pursed his lips. “I’m going to think about that one.”
* “Don’t think on it too long.”
* “Why not?” Jesse laid his head back down and let his arms go limp.
* “Because if I don’t get an answer, I’m going to assume you approve.”
* Jesse’s eyes shot back open. “You know what they say about assuming?”
* “That it’s a perfectly acceptable thing for a dominant to do when his submissive is gagged?”
* “But I’m not gagged…”
* “You easily can be.” George pulled the pink ball gag halfway out of his pocket so Jesse could see it.
* “I think I’ll wait on the piercing until we both discuss the pros and cons, Sir,” Jesse said as politely as George had ever heard come out of his mouth.
* “Acceptable,” George said as he pushed the first needle into the tender skin on Jesse’s inner thigh.
* “Holy fuck. Getting a tattoo there would be a whole lot different than on my neck.”
* “If you can make it to fifty needles there will be a reward.”
* “God help me.”
* “You’re going to need it.”

Buy Capital Offense…
FIND LINKS HERE

Thank you for joining us here today, J.R. Gray! It was a pleasure getting to know you and your story.

a look at Gale Stanley & ‘Odd Man Out’ @galestanley @changelingpress #Gay #Menage #shifters

On June 9, 2018June 7, 2018 By Casey's CornerIn Authors & Books, Publishers2 Comments

Today we have author Gale Stanley visiting. Welcome!

What would you like to tell readers about yourself?

* Gale Stanley grew up in Philadelphia PA. She was the kid who always had her nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and her hands on a pad and pencil.
* Some things never change.

A look into…

~ Blurb ~

* Ray and Jared were living the perfect life until Ray discovered his ability to shift. Now he dreams of his wolf every night, and lives in fear of the beast.
* Remus is the only man who can help Ray control his inner wolf. But if they connect will Jared become the odd man out?

~ Excerpt ~

* “Wake the fuck up! Come on, Ray, wake up.”
* Jared gripped Ray’s upper arms and shook him again. No response. Nobody sleeps that soundly. For Christ’s sake, he looked catatonic, like the woman in The Fall of the House of Usher, who’s pronounced dead and then buried alive. Now Jared was scared. He considered throwing cold water on him, maybe calling for an ambulance. He shook Ray again.
* Slowly, Ray opened his right eye. An explosion in Afghanistan took his left eye years ago.
* “Jared?” Ray mumbled.
* “Yeah, Jared. Were you expecting someone else?”
* Ray looked around the room. He seemed confused.
* “Snap out of it, man. I couldn’t wake you.”
* “I’m awake. I’m awake.” Ray stretched. He looked like he wanted to go back to sleep.”
* “You scared the hell out of me.”
* “Sorry. I must have been dreaming.”
* “Must have been some dream. There’s a wet spot on the bed.”
* Ray checked the sheets. He looked surprised. “Sorry.”
* “Forget it, Sexy.” Jared climbed into bed with him. “Tell me all the dirty details. I want to get off too.”
* “You know I never remember my dreams.” Ray rolled out of bed. “I better change the sheets.”
* Jared made a grab for him. “Later.”
* Ray evaded him. “Look at the time, Jared.”
* “You used to call me Baby?” Jared spoke more harshly than he intended.
* “Fuck the sheets, and the time. We own the company. Let’s go in late. Better yet, let’s take the day off.”
* “We can’t afford to close shop, even for one day. Too many P.I.’s in Jersey. The completion is killing us.”
* “We’re the new guys in town. All we need is a big profile case and the clients will be knocking our door down.”
* “I hope so.” Ray headed toward the bathroom. “I’m gonna shower.”
* “Come back, I’ll give you a tongue bath instead.”
* The bathroom door slammed behind Ray. Worried, Jared lay back with his arms under his head. Ray never wanted to fuck anymore. He always had an excuse. I’m too tired. It’s late. I’m drunk. I have a headache.
* The sex had been dwindling for months. Six months to be exact. Ever since Remus showed up and screwed up their lives. If he was just another man Jared could handle the competition, but Remus was larger than life, a superhero who’d come from Ray’s past to claim him.

Buy Odd Man Out here…
Amazon | Changeling Press

Thank you for joining us here today, Gale Stanley! It was a pleasure getting to know you and your story.

a look at ‘To My Muse’ by Nicola Cameron #Contemporary #Romance #Comedy @YesItsNicolaC

On June 8, 2018May 19, 2018 By Casey's CornerIn Authors & Books, Publishers1 Comment

From the author about the book…

Hello, and thanks so much for having To My Muse on your blog today. If I’m being honest with everyone, the tagline for this book should be, “Loosely based on a kind of true story!”

Back in March 2017, I pinged the extremely talented, kind, and tolerant actor Louis Herthum on Twitter and told him that he’d helped to inspire my new dystopian SF romance novel Degree of Resistance with his performance in Westworld. This resulted in a brief but lovely chat, at the end of which I asked if he’d like a print copy of Degree. To my delight, he said yes and told me where to send the book. The next day I signed a spandy new copy to him, packaged it up, and mailed it off, happy as a clam.

Six hours later, I had a nervous breakdown.

See, since I write romance novels that tend towards the explicit side of things, sex scenes don’t shock me. They’re just another part of the plot, and not even the most interesting part a lot of the time. But I forget that civilians don’t always share that view, and I had just sent a perfectly nice stranger a book that had some rather hot (well, no—extremely hot) scenes in it. Worse, I’d told him that he had inspired the plot. I was belatedly but absolutely convinced that he would put two and two together and come up with, “Note to self—make sure this pervert never comes within 50 yards of me.”

Panicking, I called my friend T. As she tried to talk me down, pointing out that 1) Lou’s a guy, so it was highly unlikely that 2) he would read a romance novel, even one with heavy SF themes, and 3) would probably just stick it on a shelf as a nice piece of egoboo, I was busy coming up with an insane plan—I would fly to LA, break into his agent’s office, steal back the book, and nobody would be the wiser. Brilliant! It would work!

Why, yes, I’m a little neurotic when it comes to my writing, why do you ask?

Needless to say, I was talked out of this. But after I calmed down I did have to admit that it was a hell of a funny idea. And when I decided to try writing a contemporary romantic comedy, it popped back into my head and waved its little hands, saying, “Me! Use me!” Seeing as I’d already lost some of my sanity and a largish patch of stomach lining on the concept, I figured why not. To My Muse is the result.

By the way, this book? No sex. Lots of comedy and banter between my leads, but no sex. Yes, I’m shocked as well. But boy, it was a ball to write.

Ever do something really, really dumb?

When too much tequila and an enabling BFF put Lily Nayar’s romance novel Feast of Lovers into the hands of its inspiration, sexy British actor Tom Morrison, Lily is horrified. Now she’s determined to get her book back, even if that means breaking into Tom’s hotel room to do it.

With the help of a strategic lie and a charismatic knight, Lily’s screwball plan catapults her into the middle of her very own Cinderella story, Hollywood style. But will a vengeful actress ruin Lily’s shot at a real life HEA with Tom?

Contemporary romance, romantic comedy, MF
Word Count: 67,000
Heat Level 2
Published By: Belaurient Press

Excerpt

Giving Theresa a thumbs up, I closed the door and turned my attention to the hotel room. It had already been cleaned and the bed was neatly made. A suitcase sat on the valet stand next to the TV, and the dresser and desk held various pieces of paper, notes, and a couple of plastic shopping bags, all the usual stuff when you’re stuck in a hotel room for a couple of weeks.

Of course, the fangirl part of my brain was screeching like a gibbon at me that I was in Tom Morrison’s hotel room. He’d slept in that very bed last night. Sat at that desk to check his email and Facebook. Took a dump behind the closed door of what I assumed was the bathroom. The prosaic nature of that last bit helped me regain some self-control, and I tiptoed (why, I don’t know, I’m an idiot) over to the desk. There was what looked like a script for GearShifter on it, as well as a MacBook Pro, but no Feast of Lovers. Bad Tom, no leaving your expensive computer equipment out where people can steal it.

I wanted to leaf through the script so badly, but I ignored it and kept looking for Feast. Not on the desk top, not on the dresser, not on the TV. I was starting to worry that he’d taken it with him to the location when I noticed the suitcase. I truly, honestly hated the idea of going through his personal stuff, but he might have stuck it in there. I could just lift the lid, take a peek, maybe it was in plain sight—

I had the lid in hand when the bathroom door swung open and a tall, beautiful blonde in a towel strutted out. “I thought I heard you—” she purred, before she saw me. Both face and tone iced over. “Who the hell are you?”

I let out a noise that could have been used as a sound effect for a creaking vault door. The blonde stalked closer, looming over me. Up close, I could see some fine lines around her eyes, but she was still ridiculously gorgeous. “What are you doing here?” she snapped.

Oh. Oh, shit. My brain informed me that I was currently sharing a room with Claudine Ellery, the actress playing Tom’s antagonist/love interest on the show. What the hell was she doing in his bathroom? Were they dating in real life? Why was I asking stupid questions when I should be turning and running for my freaking life?

And then Fate decided that she needed an even bigger chuckle because the room door opened and Tom Morrison walked in. I caught a glimpse of an apologetic Theresa hovering in the hallway before she was eclipsed by Tom, who was staring at Claudine and me.

Oh, God. He was even better looking in person. Not all actors are, but Tom—he was edible. Curly black hair, eyes the color of dark chocolate, and lips that I’d wanted to kiss since the first time I saw him on screen. With faded jeans that fit him perfectly, a dusty white button-down with rolled up sleeves, just the right amount of chest hair peeping out of his collar, and the cutest smudge of dust across one laser-sharp cheekbone, he was every one of my fantasies come to warm, tall life right in front of me.

And I had broken into his hotel room.

That was it. I was going to jail, assuming that the cops didn’t just see “brown person” and shoot me when they got here. At the very least I’d get fired from Golden State. Mom and Dad would disown me, Dada and Dadi would die of shame, and Derek would probably take out an ad in the LA Times saying that I was adopted. My only hope was that Theresa had gotten the hell out of here. There was no reason for both of us to go down for my stupidity—

“Lilian, darling, what are you doing here?”

My brain skidded to a halt. Words had come out of Tom Morrison’s mouth. Friendly words. While he was staring directly at me. Looking, if I may say so, as if he was talking to someone he knew. Which he didn’t, because I may not have remembered sending him my book but I would definitely remember meeting him.

“Um. Hi?” I waved weakly.

“I thought you decided not to come out this weekend.” He crossed to me, slipping an arm around my shoulders as he stared at Claudine. He squeezed my shoulder once, kind of hard, then did it again.

Even with my brain in fangirl vapor lock I can take a hint. I had no idea how he knew who I was, but he wanted me to play along. Plastering a grin on my face, I slipped my arm around his waist and squeezed back. His torso felt like warm rock, and he smelled so good.

“Well, I figured I needed a road trip,” I extemporized, giving him a bright smile. “And I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Not at all, angel,” he purred. Up close, I could see a hint of relief in his eyes. It disappeared as he turned to Claudine. “Claud, why are you in my room wearing a towel?” he asked politely.

She planted hands on slim hips, cocking her head to the side. “Seriously? You have to ask why?”

“Yes, because if I remember correctly, I told you that I had no interest in going to bed with you. In fact, I’m quite sure I informed you of this on numerous occasions. And when I walk into my hotel room and see you wearing nothing but terrycloth while my girlfriend,” this time his squeeze was gentle, “is standing there looking gobsmacked, I have to wonder what the actual fuck you’re up to.”

My face went rigid as it tried to hold onto my smile. Girlfriend? Eeeeeeeee…

Where to Buy

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Smashwords | iTunes

About the Author

Nicola Cameron is an expatriate Chicagoan who has lived in England, Canada, Holland, and Sweden, and keeps a confusing amalgamation of languages in her head as a result. Currently located in the clavicle of Texas, she has finally mastered the proper use of “y’all,” much to her Chicago family’s dismay.

Despite a healthy interest in romance and sex since puberty, it wasn’t until 2012 that Nicola decided to try writing about it. As it turned out, the skills she picked up during her SF writing career transferred rather nicely to speculative romance. When not writing, she wrangles cats, smooches her husband, makes dolls of dubious and questionable identity, and thanks almighty Cthulhu that she doesn’t have to work for a major telecommunications company any more (because there’s BDSM, and then there’s just plain torture…).