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LOVE IN LA TERRAZA is NOW AVAILABLE!!!

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LOVE IN LA TERRAZA

Now Available from

Resplendence Publishing

Click Here to Purchase

Promotional Blurb:

Cain Elliott is a desperate man – on the brink of losing La Terraza, the 1920’s Spanish style courtyard apartment complex his grandmother left him in her will, he’s faced with the option of selling to a real estate developer or losing the building outright, due to the costs of upkeep that have now left him teetering on the brink of bankruptcy. One setback after another has slowly whittled away any hope he’d been harboring to turn the tides. Having time for little else in life, Cain’s guilt over his failure to protect the home of those who reside within the walls of La Terraza has crippled his spirit.

On the partnership fast-track at the flashy architectural firm of Hamilton-Bach, Henry Abrams is new in town, a little lonely and looking for inspiration. Tired of games and longing for something real, Henry discovers the road to happiness could lie in the arms of the sad, uncomplicated Cain Elliott.

Discovering that Hamilton-Bach represents the mysterious entrepreneur attempting to purchase La Terraza, combined with the self-doubt and mistrust over a love that develops too fast, leave both men struggling to decide whether or not they can truly find…Love in La Terraza.

Click Here to Purchase

Excerpt:

Cain took another long gulp from his beer, feeling as if he were slowly sinking into quicksand. He felt panic building in his chest, the utter sense of hopelessness threatening to take him over. He was just about to hop out of his chair and run for the nearest exit when Eddie interrupted his fretting.

“Who’s staring at us?” Eddie’s shoulders and back writhed as if he physically felt someone’s gaze upon his back.

“How does he do that?” Cain asked, flabbergasted by what the blind man could see that the rest of them had been oblivious to.

Everyone except Eddie turned to look about the room. Cain somehow knew there was only one direction in which to concentrate his efforts.

Yep, there he is, still holding up the bar.

Cain started to grin the instant their gazes met. Mr. Preppy did indeed still seem to have his heart set on conquering Cain’s wild unknown. In truth, the guy was a little slice of heaven, perhaps someplace warm and safe where Cain might rest his weary head for the evening…well…after all the spirited fucking and sucking, of course.

“Mrs. Madrigal has a gentleman caller,” Matt said to Eddie out of the corner of his mouth.

Cain took a cue from Nic and smacked Matt in the arm for his trouble. “I hate it when you call me that.”

“What’s he like?” Eddie asked, now grinning as well.

“Damn!” Nic hissed under her breath.

“That good?” Eddie asked,

Cain scowled over the implied insult. “I’m going to try forgetting you sounded that surprised by the fact.”

“I’m hotter than him.” Stu smirked as he nodded his head in confidence.

“Sorry, Cain,” Eddie mumbled. “Didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“Since you won’t be fucking me tonight, that’s sort of a moot point, Stu.” Cain shook his head before reaching across the table to give Eddie a reassuring squeeze of forgiveness.

“The wife does frown upon any extracurricular activities.” Stu winked at Cain while nudging Nic in case she may have thought him serious for even a moment.

“Are you all still staring at him?” Eddie asked.

They glanced between one another, quickly turning back to face the table in shame.

“Way to drive him away there, people,” Eddie said.

“Shit, I—” Nic glanced up quickly then looked back down at the tabletop like a child who’d just been scolded. “I think he’s coming over!”

Cain sat up straight, eyes wide, more frightened by the high-pitched squeal of Nic’s voice than surprised over the fact he was about to land himself a hook-up for the evening.

Eddie shook his head as if he were attempting to get his hearing back. “Good god, woman, another octave or two higher and only dogs would’ve been able to hear that.”

“Pardon me for interrupting,” a deep, sexy southern voice came from behind Cain. “I couldn’t help but notice the entire table staring at me.”

Cain turned, looking upward at the man in question and trying his best to not laugh. “Hiya.”

“No pardon needed.” Eddie stood up from the table while yanking on Matt’s arm. “We were just leaving.”

Cain felt the heat flush his cheeks the instant Eddie had said it.

Not at all obvious.

Matt stood, clumsily. “Please take a seat, though. Cain was planning to hang.”

Cain rolled his eyes. “And I’m just dying to keep you company, sir. In exchange for taking me off their hands my daddies can offer you two goats, a head of cattle and a skillet.”

Eddie was already shaking his head in disgust. “Please try and stick around long enough to make it through the first act, Mr…?”

“Abrams. Henry Abrams,” he said, extending his hand before noticing the white folding cane in Eddie’s hand.

Cain thought he was kinda cute, standing there slightly awkward for a moment as he tried to decide what to do with his hand now that it was already out there. He tossed Henry a lifeline by taking it instead, shaking his hand.

“The second act does have a bitchin’ musical number you don’t wanna miss, Mr. Abrams. My name is Cain Elliott.”

“May I sit?” Henry asked as everyone said their goodbyes to Eddie and Matt who scurried off into the crowd, whispering to one another.

“Please,” Nic said, smiling as if she were Cain’s self-appointed social director, having completely missed the cues Eddie had thrown down like gas on an already flaming forest fire.

Cain could tell Stu had not but wasn’t quite able to figure out a subtle way to tell his wife they were now intruding upon and likely impeding the sacred homo mating dance.

“So what is it you do, Henry?” Nic asked.

Cain could tell she was wired up and ready to play Debbie Drill Sergeant, already commencing with the interrogation.

Henry started to answer, but Cain dreamily placed two fingertips over the man’s lips.

He laughed to himself, realizing he’d had just enough alcohol to make him fearless. “Let’s not do the whole, this is me and that is you shakedown, gorgeous. I’m feeling like a little mystery might do me some good. How about you?”

Henry’s forehead crinkled, as if he were thinking real hard about whether or not he liked where this was going. His playful half smile told Cain he was still amused if nothing else.

“We can always have share-time later, you know, after—if the sex is hot, that is.”

Henry blushed, but he started to laugh. Cain could tell the man knew he was at least half joking for the benefit of their audience across the table.

“Well, what if he’s a serial killer or something?” Nic asked, visibly disgusted with Cain.

“He most likely wouldn’t come out and say so just because you asked him, dear.”

Nic started to object then must’ve realized Cain had a point.

“You aren’t a serial killer, right?” Cain muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

“No, sir, I am not.” He smiled at Nic, pouring on the charm. “I hereby solemnly swear to inflict no pain or suffering upon your good friend.”

“Not even if I beg you to?” Cain asked.

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Love in La Terraza is coming!!!

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Love in La Terraza

LOVE IN LA TERRAZA

Available September 5th

from

Resplendence Publishing

 http://www.resplendencepublishing.com/

Promotional Blurb:

Cain Elliott is a desperate man – on the brink of losing La Terraza, the 1920’s Spanish style courtyard apartment complex his grandmother left him in her will, he’s faced with the option of selling to a real estate developer or losing the building outright, due to the costs of upkeep that have now left him teetering on the brink of bankruptcy. One setback after another has slowly whittled away any hope he’d been harboring to turn the tides. Having time for little else in life, Cain’s guilt over his failure to protect the home of those who reside within the walls of La Terraza has crippled his spirit.

On the partnership fast-track at the flashy architectural firm of Hamilton-Bach, Henry Abrams is new in town, a little lonely and looking for inspiration. Tired of games and longing for something real, Henry discovers the road to happiness could lie in the arms of the sad, uncomplicated Cain Elliott.

Discovering that Hamilton-Bach represents the mysterious entrepreneur attempting to purchase La Terraza, combined with the self-doubt and mistrust over a love that develops too fast, leave both men struggling to decide whether or not they can truly find…Love in La Terraza.

What’s in store for the attendee’s of GayRomLit in October!

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Here’s the first bit of Intel for all those planning to head west to Albuquerque New Mexico this October for the second annual GayRomLit Retreat!

 

This is the list of Authors and Publishers who’ll be participating in the daytime spotlight sessions being held over Thursday, Friday, & Saturday at the Hard Rock Hotel & Casino this October.

This includes everything except the Author-Designed Programs. I’ll be releasing more details about those over the next week or so as we’re still waiting for those event descriptions to filter in.

A full Schedule of Events won’t be available until the week before or week of the Retreat, but what’s listed below are the names you should find there once we do release that.

 

Author’s Q&A

Move over James Lipton because it’s Inside the Author’s Studio at GRL! What happened to Bart and Hank after they rode into the sunset together? This is your chance to ask the writers all the things you’ve been dying to know about your favorite stories and characters. These moderated Q&A’s will feature up to four writers in an informal setting where you’ll also hear about their new and upcoming efforts. And perhaps they’ll even share some of the trade secrets that make them successful.

Participating Authors for the Q & A’s at GRL!

Carol Lynne

Kate McMurray

Devon Rhodes

T.A. Chase

Geoffrey Knight

Heidi Cullinan

Trina Lane

T.C. Blue

Rick R. Reed

PD Singer

Silvia Violet

Rowan Speedwell

Z.A. Maxfield

Isabelle Rowan

Cat Grant

Karenna Colcroft

M.L. Rhodes

Tara Lain

L.C. Chase

Christopher Koehler

Damon Suede

K-lee Klein

Erica Pike

EM Lynley

Lynn Lorenz

Marguerite Labbe

M.J. O’Shea

J. P. Barnaby

Abigail Roux

Belinda McBride

Vivien Dean

Kiernan Kelly

AKM Miles

Anel Viz

Marie Sexton

Jet Mykles

*subject to change

 

Book Readings

One of the highlights of last year’s Retreat was the sometimes funny, sometimes profound, often risqué, and always entertaining Book Readings by our participating authors. We’ve expanded this popular event by scheduling even more readings by more authors. And to keep the atmosphere light and fun, we’ll take over the very hip Fusion 504 Bar located next to the Casino.

Participating Authors for the Book Readings at GRL!

Rick R. Reed

Ethan Day

Jade Buchanan

Kerry Freeman

Z.A. Maxfield

Ellis Carrington

Val Kovalin

Eden Winters

Jon Treadway

Jet Mykles

Charlie Richards

Kimberly Gardner

Anel Viz

AC Katt

Lori Toland

J P Bowie

Belinda McBride

D.H. Starr

Angel Martinez

Brien Michaels

Damon Suede

KC Burn

Silvia Violet

Hank Edwards

Amy Lane

Edmond Manning

VJ Summers

Louisa Bacio

Isabelle Rowan

Tara Lain

Geoffrey Knight

Stephani Hecht

Ally Blue

Cherie Noel

Kate McMurray

Christopher Koehler

*subject to change

 

Publisher Spotlights

Meet the publishers behind your favorite books and authors. These sessions are as varied and diverse as the books they produce. They may include question and answer sessions, interviews, advice on becoming a published author, book selling, prize giveaways, and simple meet-and-greet opportunities to get acquainted. Each publisher is responsible for the content of its session.

Participating Publisher’s for the Publisher Spotlights at GRL!

Torquere Press

Dreamspinner Press

Samhain Publishing

Loose Id

Total-E-Bound

Resplendence Publishing

Silver Publishing

ManLoveRomance Press

eXtasy Books

Musa Publishing

Storm Moon Press

Amber Quill Press

Riptide Publishing

     

*subject to change

It’s finally HERE!!!

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SecondTimeLucky_432

Second Time Lucky

Now Available from MLR Press!

Click Here to Purchase

Promotional Blurb:

Luke Landon and Owen West already had a once upon a time. They burned hot back in college yet still managed to lose their way. It’s been fifteen years since they drifted apart and while a lot has since changed, they’ve discovered that some things still feel the same. While one calls it fate, the other dumb luck, second chances aren’t easy to come by. Putting the ignorance of youth and life’s baggage aside, they just might find that sometimes the best things really do come back to you.

Coming in Less than TWO Weeks!!!

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Second Time Lucky

 

Available June 8th from MLR Press!

Promotional Blurb:

Luke Landon and Owen West already had a once upon a time. They burned hot back in college yet still managed to lose their way. It’s been fifteen years since they drifted apart and while a lot has since changed, they’ve discovered that some things still feel the same. While one calls it fate, the other dumb luck, second chances aren’t easy to come by. Putting the ignorance of youth and life’s baggage aside, they just might find that sometimes the best things really do come back to you.

 

 

Excerpt:

Chapter One

I could only imagine what a pathetic, sad vision I made sitting at the bar, completely surrounded by happy party-goers and drunks, yet so obviously all alone. Funny thing was, I didn’t believe anyone else could be bothered to notice. Another real ripper of a birthday had come and was now mercifully nearing an end. I was birthday cursed, that much I’d discovered a long, longtime ago. This year had proven no different.

Thirty fucking six years old. I might as well be dead. Wait, what am I thinking? I am dead—at least in this town.

It’s the biggest problem gay men of a certain age face having lived all their life in the same damn city. From Cub Scouts to college, and beyond, I’d screwed my way from one end of town and back again so many times over the years that damned if there was anyone left I hadn’t had sex with. I was well on my way to becoming the dirty old man waiting around for the latest batch of college freshmen to move into town—fresh off the fields and farms all pink and eager to learn anything Daddy was willing to teach.

My stomach churned at that horrendous thought, so I quickly took another swig off my long neck attempting to drown it at inception as opposed to allowing it to take root and blossom. My lip curled seeing Craig pass by with the latest model of gay hanging on his arm.

My most recent ex-boyfriend. What a dirt bag. I should be celebrating the fact that we were over, yet somehow him being here on this night of all nights, and with a new boyfriend, made me less than jolly. I surveyed the room once more, shaking my head. It was like a who’s who of the men Luke Landon had dated and dumped. This was the third bar I’d been to and each one of them held a different selection of my exes.

This kind of thing didn’t happen often. It was quite rare—and most unpleasant. It was as if the mystical gay energy that normally held the constructs of our flaming world together had come apart at the seams. Time itself had been bent and twisted into this hideously ugly Ebenezer Scrooge-like reality upon which all of my past exploits were now being paraded in front of my face as if to remind me what a ho-bag loser I was.

Usually, gay men stayed on the same cycle—similar to the menstrual variety in that we did our best to avoid the achy cramps that came with running into our past failures. We instinctively knew what nights and times to avoid certain bars. It was something we normally didn’t have to work at. The same way the moon orbits the earth which in turn does the same with regard to the sun, we managed to avoid one another without needing to consciously think.

For a city that held over a half a million people and a plethora of gay bars, Middleton usually provided ample room for the homosexual animals to roam freely within their desired packs, without fear of awkward confrontations or sideways glances. Tonight however, was like a full eclipse or Haley’s Comet—that once in a blue moon alignment of events that created the hell in which I now resided.

I signaled the bartender that I was ready for another beer and shot, wondering where the hell all the astrological references in my brain were coming from. I groaned, pouting in my pity party for one, recognizing the latest Kylie Minogue song which began pumping over the club’s sound system.

I could feel my bottom lip pooching out. I love this song, damn it!

I gazed longingly at the dance floor wishing I could go Cha Cha my blues away. I sighed, knowing it was safest for everyone if I kept my seat. The bone-breaking birthday bash of 2008 had taught me that. A broken ankle for me, a broken wrist for the boy I was dancing with, and three others, who suffered minor scrapes and bruises, all taken down by the power of the curse.

Like I’m supposed to know the metal railing around the dance floor wasn’t meant to be straddled and ridden like a bucking bronco?

No one was sued or anything, but I did ruin any chances at a future with my dancing partner. Don’t expect a happily-ever-after when you accidently break a man’s masturbation hand—life lesson learned.

Peter sat my drinks down in front of me, smiling in that sexy way they all do when they’re working you for a tip. I tossed him a ten and a five spot.

A gay bartender named Peter. I shook my head wondering if his parents appreciated the foreshadowing. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks!” he yelled over the loud music adding the obligatory “stud” onto the end. It felt less than genuine considering the sexy glimmer in Peter’s eye had already moved on to the patron sitting next to me.

“T and T with two limes,” the guy said. “And salt the rim,” both he and the bartender said simultaneously—the bartender mocking my new neighbor while nodding that he knew the drill all too well.

I managed a smile when the guy reached across the bar, smacking Peter in the arm.

“Hey Luke, what up?”

I glanced over at Rick, whose last name I could never seem to remember. “Nothing, aside from my bar tab.”

Rick grinned, rubbing his hands together as he slowly looked around the room, sizing up the meat in the market. He was obviously having a much better night than I was with my ghosts of boyfriends past…on parade.

Rick was what I referred to as a bar-buddy. We only managed a social life with one another while out clubbing. It wasn’t necessarily a conscious decision so much as some sort of instinctual vibe we each put off. I’d long believed we gays were able to sense favorable pheromones in one another, similar to the way dogs sniff each other’s asses to ascertain whether or not they might play well together. Unlike our canine compadres, however, we manage to confine our ass sniffing to private quarters…most of the time.

Rick and I merely recognized we wouldn’t have anything in common outside the confines of these walls. We didn’t swap numbers or follow each other on Twitter or Facebook. He wasn’t the kind of friend that would even know today was my birthday.

Peter slapped a cocktail napkin down onto the highly polished wooden bar before setting down the rocks glass, which was already sweating as beads of condensation ran down the side.

Rick tossed him his credit card. “Start me a tab?”

“Sure thing, stud,” Peter said before moving on to other pastures, still green with the almighty dollar.

Seriously? Are we all one? How many actual studs could one bar handle?

“Oh, Happy Birthday, by the way!” Rick exclaimed, as if having read my thoughts from mere moments ago, deciding to make a liar out of me.

“How the hell did you know it was my birthday?” I asked.

“I saw it on Facebook earlier today.” He said it nonchalantly.

I rolled my eyes before downing my shot of tequila. Apparently I had too many face-friends, considering I could no longer recall who was or wasn’t among them.

“Geez dude,” Rick mumbled. “It’s like an ex-BF convention rolled into town.”

“You too?” I asked, picking up my beer while trying to remember who he’d been with in the past.

“No way, not me!” Rick shivered the thought and took a sip from his glass, licking the salt off the rim with the tip of his tongue. “You!”

Tell me something I don’t know, asshole.

I huffed slightly, wondering how the hell he knew me so well.

“Oh man, there’s Marty, I haven’t seen him around in a long time.”

I sighed watching my fifth-ex-removed stroll languidly through the center of the bar looking all fresh and fine.

Rick took another drink while eye-fucking Marty within an inch of his life. “I always had a thing for him, you know?”

I should’ve known better than to ask on a night like this. I most certainly did not know that. Another gift I’ll not be able to return. Whoever said information was power was a total liar.

I took a good long drink from my very cold beer.

Rick placed his hand on my shoulder. “It’s nice to see that Chance guy out and about, huh?”

I glanced over to where Chance Crawford was sitting, surrounded by men that had never paid him any mind before his lover, who’d been an anchorman for one of the local affiliates was killed, hit by a car last year.

I couldn’t help but think he looked as miserable as I felt, which in turn made me realize what a heel I was being. There was a guy who had a legitimate reason to be down in the dumps. A few exes…well okay a few dozen, but still. No one I cared for was dead.

“Say, would it be weird if I were to ask Marty out?” Rick asked, not even bothering to look me in the face as he was too busy staring at the ex in question.

Okay, my statement would still be true, even if I were to strangle Rick. No one I cared for would be dead.

I sighed, near drunk and newly determined to finish my beer and go the hell home. “Knock yourself out.”

I smiled, hoping that birthday wish would come true.

“Thanks man!” Rick said, picking up his drink before teasing me by tripping over the leg of his barstool and stumbling face forward.

He managed to not fall on his head though. Still…not exactly a Rico Suave sorta move. I took a teensy bit of pleasure from the fact people were now laughing at his clumsiness.

Alone once more, I chastised myself for having tempted fate by going out on my birthday to begin with. My so-called loser friends and co-workers were supposed to have met me for dinner earlier in the evening at La Mancha’s. One by one they each called, having to cancel at the last minute, leaving me alone at the large ass table wearing a huge sombrero while drowning my sorrows in a pitcher of mango margaritas.

“Happy Birthday to me,” I mumbled, as the strangest sensation shot through my chest for like the first time ever.

Me, Luke Landon, one year older and newly decrepit…now that I was practically forty…a one-time party boy and player…heart breaker extraordinaire was actually experiencing a new emotion.

I was lonely?

It seemed unfathomable as I took another swig from my bottle while contemplating the horror of it. I shrugged, downing the last bit of beer.

Perhaps I’m just drunk?

I started to laugh, pushing the beer bottle away before reaching for my phone to call a cab.

I cocked my head to the side hearing this static-like sound coming from behind me, followed by the words, “Put your clothes back on and get back into your vehicle. The park has now closed.”

The smile spreading across my face was immediate and uncontrollable as I’d only heard those words one time before, and only two other people would’ve been able to repeat them to me. The park ranger who’d quietly driven his Jeep Wrangler down to the lake, surprising us with the floodlights he’d turned on—illuminating our nakedness as we frolicked in one another’s arms on the beach or Owen West my co-frolickee…frolicker-er?

Wait, is that even a word?