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Wilde City Press 4th of July Sale !!!

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Help Wilde City Press celebrate the start of summer and July 4th. Enjoy 25% of your entire cart from Wednesday July 3rd through Sunday July 7th with the coupon code: WildeFreedom.

To use the code, all you have to do is go through the normal purchasing process on our website (www.wildecity.com). When you get to the check-out it will ask if you have a code.

The 25% off code is: WildeFreedom

Type that in, hit "place order" and the total amount will convert to reflect the discounted price!

And since summer is all about fun, adventure and making great holiday memories. What do the Wilde City authors get up to?

Find out below!!!

We asked our authors to share some of their favorite summer traditions … past, present, and future.

Question #1:

What is your favorite July 4th / Independence Day memory or tradition?

Shae Connor

My favorite July 4th tradition is putting the watermelon in the pool.

See, my extensive extended family mostly lives in and around a small Georgia town, and the main gathering place for as long as I can remember has been the house of one of my grandmother’s sisters. (Both my grandmother and her sister are gone now, but some things just don’t change.)

Every year on the 4th of July, everyone who’s in town gathers at that house for a cookout. There’s a big grill out back, where the manly men types cook the meat. There’s also a pool, and every year, there’s a watermelon that goes in the pool. The kids play with it in the water most of the day, and then after everyone eats, the watermelon gets fished out, washed off, and sliced for everyone to dig in. The water in the pool chills it perfectly, not too cold like it would be from the fridge.

Now I want some pool-cooled watermelon!

I’ve been making up stories for as long as I can remember, but it took me a long time to figure out that maybe I should start writing them down. I started out writing fanfic well over a decade ago, and in 2010, I moved into original fiction. (Though I do still get waylaid by a fanfiction plotbunny now and then.)

Shae is new to Wilde City. Look for Fringes, her Charlie Harding Presents erotic sci-fi short due out later this summer. Visit her at: shaeconnorwrites.com

 

Owen Keehnen

I am not sure if it was the exactly the 4th of July, but I do recall the fireworks. I was probably 20 or so andFallingAwake_200x300_cvr felt very grown up. I was in my first real apartment with my first real boyfriend. It was night and to escape the heat we climbed out my bedroom window onto the roof. We spread a sheet on the graveled tar and were lying there just holding hands and watching the stars. There was heat lightning to the south. The small town fireworks began about a half hour after dusk and probably lasted a total of five minutes. When they ended, I turned to him and said, “I love you.” I didn’t know exactly what those words entailed, but I knew how I felt and at that moment there wasn’t a doubt in my mind. It was such a feeling of complete contentment. We ended up falling asleep out there on the roof and climbed back inside around 3 a.m. He’s gone now, but whenever I see fireworks I think of him and that rooftop and that moment. It always brings a smile.

In addition to the four poems he contributed to Falling Awake, Owen has two other projects coming soon to Wilde City. The LGBT Book of Days is a fun and comprehensive guide to thousands of the most important dates in LGBT history – it’s great for reference and trivia and a real treat to compile. The second is a humorous novel called Young Digby Swank, a gay coming of age story about growing up Catholic which is hilarious and heartbreaking and heroic all at the same time. Visit Owen on facebook.

Hank Edwards

COWBOYS&VAMPIRES_200x300pxMeet Josh Stanton, orphaned at a young age in the mid-1800s, he has always been considered an outcast in Belkin’s Pass. Now he’s grown into a quiet, well-educated young man full of secrets, the least of which is his love for his best friend, town deputy Dex Wells. But when the ancient vampire Balthazar begins feeding on the residents of Belkin’s Pass, Josh’s secrets prove to be the turning point in a battle for the souls of the townspeople—but at what personal cost? —- Cowboys & Vampires, available now at Wilde City Press.

Visit Hank at hankedwardsbooks.com

 

Question #2:

What is your favorite Summer memory or tradition?

Geoffrey Knight

My favourite Independence Day moment has to be when Will Smith socks that mean old alien in the chops after they have the dogfight in the canyon and he says something bad-ass like, “You aliens just wrecked my July 4 barbecue and now I’m gonna have me some E.T. burgers because you guys suck!” Oh … you mean a real Independence Day memory, not a scene from the movie! I guess I’ll answer the Best Summer Memory or Tradition question instead.

I don’t think I have one particular memory or tradition that stands out because I love everything about Summer. Being Australian, Summer means lots of public holidays: Christmas, Boxing Day, New Year’s Day and Australia all happen in the space of a month or so, so January pretty much means lots of delicious seafood and days at the beach and your skin feels dusty with sea-salt the whole time, which is a feeling I love. Now that I’ve moved to an island it’s even better; Sydney beaches can get really crowded but up here I can walk from one end of the beach to the other with my dogs and not see a soul. And yes, of course I go in for a skinny dip! ;)

CH_CairoCurse_200x300px_cvr“I want to see.” … “Nash, we’re in Egypt, in the ruins of an ancient city, standing in front of a secret door! Aren’t you curious?”
“Curiosity killed the – ” … “No, I’m not curious.”
The lie was unconvincing enough to give Ryan the confidence to sway him.
Sway him with a kiss. …
“Curious yet?”

You can read Nash’s answer in Cairo Curse, book two in the Vampire Lair series. Visit Geoff at www.geoffreyknightbooks.com

 

Lloyd Meeker

My favorite summer tradition is honoring the solstice. In one old tradition, Midsummer Night was the time to leave a small dish of brandy in the garden as a gift to the fairies, which I’ve always thought was charming. Inviting the goodwill of nature is always a sensible idea!

I mark the solstice by honoring extremes – the dark of winter in the southern hemisphere and the light of summer in the northern – and the inevitable swing of the one toward the other. It is the wisdom of the Tao, the dance of light and dark, each with the spark of the other in its core.

This idea may seem pretty dry, but try this little experiment: sit on a playground swing and build momentum. Make the point furthest back winter solstice, when movement forward begins, and make the point farthest forward summer solstice, when graceful retreat begins. Feel the delicious centrifugal force as you move, your weightlessness at both far points – and remember the earth, held in her arc by the sun.

Gay PI Russ Morgan doesn’t mind being fifty but hates being single. He’s made peace with being a psychic empath, and he’s managed to build a decent life since getting sober. As he uncovers obscene secrets shrouded in seeming righteousness, he might have to make peace with a sword of justice that cuts the innocent as deeply as the guilty. —- Enigma, coming soon to Wilde City Press.

Visit Lloyd at lloydmeeker.com

 

Clare London

I wish the UK had July 4 celebrations as well! This summer so far, we’ve had sleet, flood rains, gale force winds and then occasionally a sunny, hot day. I think this is the reason most of our sentimental celebrations take place in the latter half of the year. Or why the British talk constantly about the weather.

Freeman_200x300px_cvrIt seemed sunnier in The Old Days, when I was young(er). One happy memory is of an annual trip with friends to Henley-on-Thames, for a barbeque/picnic beside the river. This was the irresponsible time before kids and mortgages! We always arranged a game of rounders (like baseball, but not), competing with way more enthusiasm than skill, and helped along (or hindered?) by huge amounts of alcohol.

We still have photographic evidence of the fun. A gal sitting in her bikini, draining the last cupful of fruit punch from a litre-sized jug. A chap with his younger brother hauled over his shoulder, running towards the river to throw him in. Various self-inflicted rounders-bat injuries on sunburned shins. Clare, clutching river weeds to her chest because she lost her tube top when she dived in…

Oh those lazy, hazy afternoons of summer!

Meet Freeman, a quiet man who’s not used to sharing his plans, his history, or his emotions. He’s returned to the city on business, a case that has nothing to do with the people he once left behind: his ex-wife, his male ex-lover, and his ex-business partner. He has no plans to engage with any of them again – until he meets Kit, the provocative young man who’s going to pull Freeman from the safety of his shell, whether he wants to or not. —- Freeman, coming soon to Wilde City Press.

Visit Clare at www.clarelondon.co.uk

 

Eric Arvin

I’m a big music slut any time of the year, but I especially love summer music or music that makes me think of summer. Every spring I make an awesome playlist for the warmer months. There be lots of frivolity and even some slower tunes in the mix. Here are a few from this year’s playlist:

MingledDestinies_200x300px_cvrBoys on the Radio by Hole
Mad About You by Belinda Carlisle
Love This by Cosmo Jarvis
Love Profusion by Madonna (Madonna has a lot of great summer tunes)
Car Wheels on A Gravel Road by Lucinda Williams

Midnight City by M83 (they’re last album was a summer spectacular)
I’m Like a Bird by Nelly Furtado
Soak Up the Sun by Sheryl Crow
Summer Fling by kd lang (from her album Invincible Summer)
Summertime Clothes by Animal Collective

Wicked Game by Chris Isaak
Spaceman by The Killers (again, they’ve got a lot of great summery songs)
Boys of Summer by Eric Himan (a great version of the Don Henley classic)
For the Summer by Ray LaMontagne
Summer Days by Norah Jones

Summertime by Ella Fitzgerald
Summer Moved On by A-ha
Freeway by Aimee Mann (Mann’s voice just sounds like summer to me, other Mann Summer songs include 4th of July and Fifty Years After the Fair)
Free Falling by Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers
End of the Innocence by Don Henley

If I Ever Feel Better by Phoenix
Birmingham by Shovels & Rope
Ramona by Night Beds
Singing in My Sleep by Semisonic
Lightning Bolt by Jake Bugg

Eric Arvin resides in the same sleepy Indiana river town where he grew up. He graduated from Hanover College with a Bachelors in History. He has lived, for brief periods, in Italy and Australia. He has survived brain surgery and his own loud-mouthed personal demons. Eric is the author of The Mingled destinies of Crocodiles and Men, and various other sundry and not-so-sundry writings. He intends to live the rest of his days with tongue in cheek and eyes set to roam.

Visit Eric at ericarvin.blogspot.com

 

Patrick Darcy

Without a doubt, on a cold summer night in Dublin, I dream of being naked on an Ibizan beach. Preferably Playa Es Cavallet, the gay nudist beach. It’s a bit of a trek; you have to get past the German and Dutch naturalist before getting to the promised land of sexy, naked homos. I see it now, hot muscled hunks, with tattoos and great big…….

ConfGayRugbyPlayer2_200x300px_cvrThe beach is all white sand lined with cool beach bars, and the sound of funky music fills the air. Such a great relaxed vibe and beautiful people cruising each other. To say it’s sexual would be an understatement.

Summer is all about being naked, however, there are occasional problems. As a weak and feeble man, I am constantly being shown up by my hardon. I want to be dignified and European. But I’m Irish, I see a hot naked guy and, well, my cock just has to show its appreciation. Total nude beach faux pas. Oh the shame of it! The only saving grace is that my buns are rather pert. So I spend most of the day laying on my front, peaking through my Roy Orbison shades at all the beach talent.

OK. now I’m horny!

Hi! I’m Patrick Darcy. Rugby player, Irishman and writer of full strength gay erotica. Follow me at patrickdarcybooks.com, as I comment on life in Dublin, hot men and all the things that make me tick. There are two big passions in my life: great sex and rugby. Quite often, these are combined! I love the thrill of competition, the power, the intensity, the brotherhood of rugby.

Oh, and I love being naked!

Anne Brooke

My favourite summer memory is my mother’s homemade lemonade. She only ever made it in summer as she said it was an outdoor drink and needed a big dose of sunshine to make the bubbles pop. Apparently winter would make the whole drink go grey and flat, and as I was young I believed her – and in a way I still do. Homemade lemonade only ever appeared about three or four times a year and only when we were very good and she was pleased with us. It wasn’t ever something she prepared for either but, in our CH_BeginningOfKn_200x300px_cvrfamily group, she would slip away quietly and after a while one or another of us would realise she was missing. From then on the excitement would mount and then – at last! – half an hour or so later she would reappear with a huge jug of lovely lemony-yellow bubbly drink and a selection of glasses. Drinking it meant you had enough sugar in your system to last you well into the next month, but it was like a blast of sunshine and citrus in the mouth, I can tell you. Sheer bliss!

The night I met Luke Milton, the last thing I was looking for was any kind of relationship …

“What the hell are you doing?” …
“Waiting for you …”
“You’ve not covered up your mark.” … “You must have taken some stick for it from the office.”
“Why should I cover it up? You gave it to me. That’s worth all the stick in the world.”

Read the rest of Luke and Alan’s interactions in The Beginning of Knowledge, available now at Wilde City Press. Visit Anne at www.annebrooke.com

 

Ewan Creed

CH_LeatherbarMural_200x300_cvrI’ll set the scene for you – a rowboat, a bottle of wine, a low moon, and a good man. We had met on the beach that morning and clicked, so after hanging out all day I invited him out to dinner and then for a ride on the lake. There was just something about him. It was so easy to talk to him. I told him more about myself than I told my best friends and he shared just as much about himself. That evening was nothing special in the scheme of things, and yet perfect at the same time. It was one of those connections you just don’t forget. He was the first person I ever told that I wanted to be a writer.

Meet Alex, a man caught up in the leather bar scene of 1975, a man consumed by the feeling of sexual abandon and freedom. One night Alex gets more than he bargained for and is transported into a dark carnal wonderland of sexual abandon and perpetual desire, a world that can trap a man for all eternity. —- The Leather Bar Mural, available now from Wilde City Press.

Follow all of Ewan’s release dates HERE.

Question #3:

If you could escape to anywhere in the world this summer, where would it be?

J.P. Barnaby

J. P. Barnaby, an award-winning gay romance novelist, is the author of over a dozen books including the Little Boy Lost series, the Forbidden Room series, and Aaron. As a bisexual woman, J.P. is a proud member of the GLBT community both online and in her small town on the outskirts of Chicago. A member of Mensa, she is described as brilliant but troubled, sweet but introverted, and talented but deviant. She spends her days writing software and her nights writing erotica, which is, of course, far more interesting. The spare time that she carves out between her career and her novels is spent reading about the concept of love, which, like some of her characters, she has never quite figured out for herself.

J.P.’s new Rentboy series is coming to Wilde City press later this year. Visit J.P. at www.JPBarnaby.com

 

Pelaam

I live in New Zealand and summer here starts in December. For someone born in the UK, seeing bikinis and sun lotion next to Christmas trees and decorations just isn’t right. A holiday somewhere hot and sultry with exotic cocktails might be most people’s idea of summer bliss. However, I’d like to escape to celebrate my summer Christmas in Canada with snow, caribou, and lots of mulled wine.

Living in clean, green New Zealand, I am an author, foodie, wine buff and Art Historian. I write M/M romance, particularly paranormal, sci-fi and fantasy, and like to add passion, and a twist, to my tales. I grew up on Dr Who, Star Trek and The Night Stalker. I never leave the house without at least one notebook, ready to jot down anything the muse may whisper. Visit me on facebook.

Charlie HardingCHP_EdwinPabon_1

I would scoop up my partner Scotty Rage and we’d meet up with our 10 closest friends at a beach somewhere. Seafood, cocktails, sand, sun and the people we care about… Our favorite combination!

Charlie Harding joined the ranks of adult performers in February 2012. He has won multiple awards including "Best New Cummer," "Best Daddy," "Best Ass Eater 2012" and “Manly Man”. Charlie has also put his multiple college degrees to work building network of business ventures including launching his own line of personally selected gay erotica at www.charliehardingpresents.com. Charlie lives in Atlanta, Georgia with his partner and fiance, Scotty Rage.

Ethan Stone

I would love to go on a cruise to somewhere warm but not too hot. I want a place with a beach, cool clear water and some hot cabana boys. The hot cabana boys are not just for eye candy, they’d be there for inspiration. The whole trip would be for inspiration since I’ve been having a hard time with writing lately. PastTense_200x300_cvrBeing in a relaxing environment with pretty eye candy all around me could really help with my writing block. Additionally, it would benefit my health as well. If I were to lay shirtless in the sun, soaking up all that vitamin D, I’d have all the energy I need for anything that happened to come up. :-)

Anyone wanting to contribute to the "Save Ethan’s Mental and Physical Health" Cruise feel free to use Paypal.

“Did you like what you saw out there?” …
“You’re a very … talented dancer.” …
“Anything else you liked?”
“You fishing for a compliment, Holt? You don’t seem the type to need your ego stroked.”
“Maybe it’s not my ego I want s…”

See if Jason Holt ever gets around to telling Quinn what he wants stroked, Past Tense available now at Wilde City Press. Visit Ethan at www.ethanjstone.com.

LOVE IN LA TERRAZA is NOW AVAILABLE!!!

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Love-in-La-Terraza_thumb1

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.

Click Here to Purchase

Coming in Less than TWO Weeks!!!

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SecondTimeLucky_200

 

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?

My Interview with Sloan Parker about Breathe

Today I’m posting an interview with the lovely and talented Sloan Parker, author of More, Take Me Home, and the subject of today’s interview, Breathe – 1st place winner of the 2011 Rainbow Awards in the Contemporary Romance category among several others. Along with the above mentioned, Sloan is also a fantastic friend – I know as she spent an entire Saturday evening chatting with me back in the summer of 2010 in which we did everything but braid one another’s hair. That likely only went by the wayside because it was an instant message chat due to the fact we were each in separate parts of the country at the time. Apparently, I’m cheap and easy – able to be had and held for a lifetime of friendship after only one marathon heart to heart. : )

SPPROMO-block420SP: Hey, there’s nothing wrong with cheap and easy. Although, it’s definitely more along the lines of you being a fabulous guy that makes you such a good friend. That chat was more fun than anything else that can be had on a Saturday evening. Well, almost anything. ;)

Thanks for the wonderful introduction and for letting me ramble on your blog today, Ethan!

ED: Let me begin by saying congratulations again for your win in Elisa Rolle’s 2011 Rainbow Awards. I think it well deserved as I thoroughly enjoyed Breathe. One of the things I found most interesting with this book was your use of hate as an underlying theme throughout. It comes in more than one form, but what struck me as unusual was that the gay aspect wasn’t front and center. We often see the use of anti-gay bigotry as a plot device in gay romance. It’s all too familiar obstacle to that happily-ever-after. In Breathe, however – the hatred came more from the sense of familial loss over the life not lived due to the death of one character that resulted from the actions of another. The gay aspect was almost secondary – just another log on an already ignited fire burning out of control. Was hate something you purposely chose as an underlying obstacle but determined to use in a different way?

SP: First, I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you enjoyed Breathe. Thank you for checking it out and for the congrats on the Rainbow awards. Hearing about the wins for Breathe was quite a surreal moment for me. So many people cautioned me about writing that story. It feels good to know people have been moved by Jay and Lincoln’s story.

Definitely, hate was a big part of what I wanted to explore in Breathe. The idea that holding on to anger and grief and blame can ultimately do more damage to the wronged parties than the original loss they suffered through. It was part of the book’s plan from day one. That level of hate was inspired from real-life moments that I witnessed after an accidental death of someone in my hometown. The people I watched throw out insults with malicious vehemence didn’t even know the man responsible for the accident, and I was very disturbed be the entire situation. I guess I felt compelled to channel the hate I’d witnessed into a love story.

ED: I found your use of setting to be purposeful outside of the obvious world building aspect of writing. Everything surrounding these characters remained rather stark throughout: the houses or rooms in which they resided, the bar they went to for drinks, the anti-gay oppression which can still be quite prevalent in small town USA, even the gloomy winter weather that seemed to never end. It was as if Lincoln and Jay were trapped in a world of grey. I think it provided an almost pin-point focus on the two men and their growing relationship – as if they were the only thing in their world highlighted in color. Was this something that came to you organically throughout the writing process or was it part of the plotting from the very beginning?

SP: I’m so glad you mentioned the setting and weather, and I loved the way you described it. That’s exactly what I was hoping for. I wanted the bleak surroundings and the onslaught of the winter weather to help illustrate where each man was emotionally, that is until the final moments when Jay is at the cemetery alone and then later when he goes to see Lincoln. Only then was the spring weather starting to break through, and only then were the two of them really able to think about moving on and accepting the hope of a different future.

I outline every story and make several passes through it while revising and editing. The use of the settings and the winter weather to help set the mood was definitely something I planned out, though not every detail came to me until several passes through revising. I tend to have an overall idea of what I want to accomplish with those kinds of things, but it takes me several times through the story to layer it in with the plot and character interactions. Otherwise it feels forced to me, and ultimately probably would to the readers as well.

ED: Lincoln in particular, despite having been released from prison when the story begins, appears to still be very much in a prison of his own making. The guy never really lets up on himself, and even as the book came to a close, I’m not sure I ever felt he totally let it all go. Was this something you intended from the onset, and do you believe he ever completed his journey from self loathing to forgiveness?

SP: I just want to give you a giant hug. A prison of his own making is a great description. That’s exactly where Lincoln was at the opening of this book. He was the first character I envisioned for this story and wasSloanParker2 the one I wanted to help heal before I even dreamed up who Jay would be. From the very start, I wanted to make Linc a likeable guy who was such a good person that he couldn’t forgive himself, couldn’t let himself out of those prison walls he’d built up around him.

I think at the close of the story, he has a real shot at moving on. I don’t think that would’ve been possible without Jay’s forgiveness and love. Lincoln will never be the same man he was before the accident, and I don’t think he’ll ever completely let go of the guilt, but I believe that through building a life with Jay and working to be a part of what makes Jay happy, Lincoln will find a purpose in his life (along with caring for his sis and her kids). That purpose will allow him to live a more peaceful existence than where he started at the beginning of Breathe.

I’ve written a draft of an epilogue that I almost included in the book. Ultimately, I decided the ending was stronger without it and didn’t even finish polishing it. Someday soon I hope to get that revised and posted on my website so readers can see a bit of the future for Linc and Jay together.

ED: As someone who’s never been a fan of the gay-for-you storyline, which after hearing bits and pieces of the storyline from other people was what I assumed I’d be getting into with this book, I was pleasantly surprised and found it a refreshing change for Jay’s character to be a true bi-sexual. He’s attracted to both men and women yet manages to maintain a monogamous relationship with whomever he finds himself with at the time. It was something he never hid from his wife, though he did conceal that part of himself from his parents and in-laws. But I somehow got the feeling that had he met and fell in love with a man as opposed to a woman first that wouldn’t have been the case – that the only reason he actually hid that part of himself was because he’d never had a reason to do otherwise. That complete honesty within Jay’s marital relationship is an aspect of his personality that I’ve found accurate with regard to the few real-life bi-sexual men I’ve met over the years. Was this something that was important for you to show when creating this character or did it present itself to you organically as a result of the needs of the story you wanted to tell?

SP: Jay’s bisexuality was a very important part of the story for me (and another intentional element. Apparently I didn’t write much of this one organically. LOL). I purposely didn’t want it to be something he hid from his wife. I think people too often assume when someone realizes he or she is bisexual, they are automatically going to leave the person they are with and run out to explore that part of themselves. That’s just not always the case. As for many-real life bisexuals, they share that insight with their partner and discuss it openly. In Breathe, I didn’t want Jay’s own acceptance of who he was to be an important internal conflict for him. He’d already accepted that as a part of himself. Now, with Lincoln, he was able to explore that physically as well. I’ve heard from readers who were surprised there wasn’t more made of his “coming out.” But as you said, if Jay had fallen in love with a man first instead of his wife, he would’ve brought that person home to meet his family and all would have been revealed about his bisexuality earlier in his life. His internal conflict had much more to do with a perceived betrayal of his wife because of who Lincoln was, not because Lincoln was a man.

ED: Lastly is one of the things that impressed me most about this story, the overall concept of one man falling in love with another man who happens to be responsible for the death of his spouse. It vaguely reminded me of a film I love called, Return to Me – where a man unknowingly falls in love with the woman who received the heart of his first wife (killed by a drunk driver) as an organ transplant. Was there an intent behind it – some particular theme you wanted to play into or simply a really cool idea that happily came to you.

SP: Love that film! You know, I’ve never thought of it in relation to Breathe before.

The original idea for Breathe came about several years ago when there was a tragic car accident a few miles from where I live. A young woman was killed in the crash as well as her unborn child. Her young son and husband, who were also in the car, were both injured but survived. It was such a sad story. My heart broke for that family. Sometime later, I saw footage on the local news of the man who had accidentally caused the crash. He was in the courtroom for his hearing and was talking to the woman’s family. I didn’t really hear what he was saying (I had the TV muted), but the look of misery and despair on his face was genuine and something I’ll never forget.

Naturally I felt horrible for the family that had lost this woman, but I also couldn’t get the other man out of my mind. Would he ever be happy again? Ever smile? Laugh? Love? Ever be able to forgive himself?

Not long after that night, I had several pages of notes about Lincoln and Jay. I wanted to create two characters who were decent, caring guys stuck in an impossible situation. I wanted them to learn to accept that forgiveness and love could make a difference in their lives. I wanted them to learn to love again. The more I wrote about Jay and Lincoln, the more I had to follow them to their happy ending.

ED: Thank you once again for taking the time to answer all my annoyingly nosy questions Sloan! Congratulations once more on the well deserved success of the book. : )

SP: Thank you so much, Ethan. These questions were far from annoying. They were some of the best ones I’ve been asked about this book. I absolutely loved the way you described the story elements. Thanks again!!

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Promotional Blurb:

Lincoln McCaw lost everything—his home, his job, his partner—after he caused a fatal accident. A year later, he’s drowning the guilt and despair in whiskey, but he needs to move on. His sister and her kids are counting on him. Then he meets a man who ignites a passion Lincoln thought he’d never find. Too bad one night is all they can have together. Now he needs to figure out how to turn away from the only person who makes him feel alive…before whoever is sending him threats decides Lincoln needs to suffer more than he already has.

Jay Miller is surrounded by grief and misery until he finally gives in to all those years of sexual fantasies about being with another guy. Realizing he’s ended up in the arms of the man who caused his wife’s accident, he tries to pull away. But how can he give up a friendship he needs more than anything—a friendship and a love that could save him? He may not have time to make the choice before someone else destroys it all.

Excerpt of Breathe by Sloan Parker

“God, you sure are a cute one.”

Jay cracked a smile as the woman at the far end of the bar flirted with the dark-haired man wearing a leather jacket. She had no clue she’d already lost the game. Not only was Dark Eyes gay, he also looked as lost as he had when Jay first saw him. No one stood a chance with someone who obviously wanted to be left alone the way he did.

She kept at it, though. “Come on. Buy me a drink.” She ran her long, pink fingernails through the hair above his ear. Dark Eyes swatted her hand away and returned his attention to the glass that held something stronger than beer, gripping it with both hands.

SP_Breathe_coverlgJay couldn’t blame her for trying. Dark Eyes looked good in the black leather and faded jeans, his dark hair and skin a temptation for the fingers. Jay clutched his beer and took a swallow before setting it on the table he’d grabbed ten minutes earlier.

Sonny’s Tavern was crowded, the eligible singles mixing with the heavy drinkers. Most–like the woman hitting on Dark Eyes–not knowing how to tell the difference between the two. The Friday night crowd was more animated than the last night Jay had been in. A group of couples danced near the back wall, creating a makeshift dance floor. There was a different bartender on duty, the television and music overhead were louder, but the same old man sat sipping whiskey near the restrooms.

Jay drank more of his beer and waited. It wouldn’t take long.

By the time he finished the beer, the bar stool next to Dark Eyes was empty, the chatty blonde desperate for a free drink–and possibly more–had moved on. Jay waved for another beer, dropped onto the stool, and said, “Hey.”

Dark Eyes ignored him and stood.

Apparently Jay sucked at the flirting thing. Which made sense. He hadn’t dated many girls. The only one other than Katie had been a fellow classmate he’d agreed to go to the homecoming dance with his junior year during the five weeks he and Katie had their one breakup.

Dark Eyes removed his jacket, laid the leather over the bar, and sat again. The muscles of his arm flexed as he lifted the glass for a drink. The hint of a tattoo peeked out from under the T-shirt’s sleeve. An outline of an eagle feather.

“Do I know you?” Dark Eyes asked.

He’d forgotten.

And here Jay was picturing what it would be like to blow the guy. He’d always wanted to know. Always imagined he’d like sucking cock and couldn’t stop dreaming of doing it to Dark Eyes since the man had walked out of the bar the other night. Was it because Jay knew Dark Eyes was gay?

No. This guy was a total turn-on for him. He’d only been sitting next to the man long enough for one smoke, and already all Jay’s fantasies were roaring to life.

“I uh…I was in here the other night.”

“I remember,” Dark Eyes said. “Saw you outside the night before that too. Thought maybe I’d seen you somewhere else, though.” He slid the bowl of peanuts toward Jay.

Jay stilled the spinning bowl. “Don’t think so. I’d remember meeting you.” Heat rose in his cheeks. Shut up! But did he want to? He nodded to the TV. “You watching the game?”

“Nah. I gave up last half.”

“Guess I didn’t miss much excitement, then. I had to work late.”

Dark Eyes removed one hand from his glass. He made like he was going to take a drink. “Where do you work?” The question came out in a rush before the glass hit his lips.

“Stacking loads at McNeil’s Lumber Yard.” Jay made eye contact with the man. Neither looked away. A nervous jolt shot from his gut to his groin. “It’s a shit job, but I’m lucky to have it. I was going to college but, I…uh, I had to quit. And since they won’t let you teach high school history without a college degree, or a teacher’s license for that matter, I’m stuck with whatever pays the bills.”

Dark Eyes let go of his drink and turned on the stool a fraction of an inch in Jay’s direction. The slight curve of his lips wasn’t as unnerving as the intense stare.

Jay kept talking. “History’s always been my thing. Since I was a kid. Everyone thinks I’m crazy for wanting to teach high schoolers, but there’s a lot we can learn from history.” And why was he sharing any of this?

The grin on the other man’s face grew. “You always talk this much?”

Jay shrugged and sipped the beer he’d forgotten he had. “I don’t know.” He laughed. That statement was worth a laugh–the first real one in over a year–considering Todd’s recent comments about how he hadn’t been talking much anymore.

“What’s funny?” Dark Eyes asked.

“Nothing. What do you do?”

“Just started over at the steel plant. Used to drive loads for them years back.” Dark Eyes gripped his glass again, clutching it in one hand. The other joined the first until he held on to it with both hands. What would those hands feel like when they touched Jay’s body? His ass? His dick? What would those arms feel like wrapped around him? How would the skin of that neck taste? What would that dark hair feel like when he grasped the man’s head in his hands while Dark Eyes blew him?

Jay breathed deep. Fantasies…just a fantasy. He wasn’t ready for anything physical with anyone. Was he?

Before that week, he hadn’t been ready for so much as a one-night stand. When he let himself get close to someone, all his thoughts would turn to Katie and every sexual moment they’d spent together. He hadn’t wanted to go there, especially not for a quick fuck to please his cock.

Had that changed?

His body was ready, but was he?

Maybe someday…a roll in the hay with a woman. Maybe even with a guy. Might be nice to know if all those fantasies had been leading him on about what he wanted–or whom he wanted it with. But not yet. Not after only a year.

Then why had he sat next to the guy in the first place? Why had he looked for the man?

Dark Eyes leaned his upper body in close, almost touching Jay’s arm. That rattled him out of his trance. Damn, he’d been staring at the man for too long. The husky whisper as Dark Eyes spoke did nothing to aid Jay in regaining his concentration.

“Quit looking at me like that, kid. Unless you’re willing to back it up.”

Oh God. Maybe the flirting had gone better than Jay thought.

The only sexual experience he had other than Katie was the ten-minute fuck in the back of Christy Harper’s car on homecoming night. He’d gotten off, but it hadn’t been anything special. He’d put every last minute of it out of his mind as soon as he and Katie had made up.

The weeks they’d spent apart were the worst weeks of his life until a year ago.

No. The worst part was telling Katie about what he’d done with Christy. Katie had gone on her own date, and Jay hated hearing about the kissing and groping she’d done. He could only imagine how much it hurt Katie to listen to his confession about his backseat “date.” He made a promise to himself as he drove her home that night, both of them sitting in the front seat of the Jeep in silence. He’d never hurt her again. Never cheat again. Even though she said he hadn’t technically cheated and she understood how it had happened, it sure had felt as though he’d been unfaithful. He never wanted to feel that way again. Never wanted any other person pleasuring him. Only her.

And now here he was hoping another guy was interested in him.

How had he given this guy the right signals? Or the wrong ones? And how was he supposed to respond?

Jay licked his dry lips and forced his attention on the TV above the bar. Commercials. Something with beer and babes in bikinis. How apropos.

“Kid.” That one word in the low, deep voice had him facing Dark Eyes again. Jay barely heard the whispered command over the sound of the country music. “Give it a few minutes, then meet me out back.” Dark Eyes stood, threw some wadded cash onto the bar, grabbed his coat, and exited out the back entrance that led to the rear parking lot. The music and crowd in Sonny’s muffled the bang of the door closing behind Dark Eyes.

Jay turned to the bar. He needed to leave. Out the front entrance. Now.

Why wouldn’t his legs help him out? He guzzled his beer in four tries, dropped the bottle onto the bar, and stood. What the hell?

He walked toward the back door at a quick clip, hoping no one knew where he was going.

Or why.

Copyright 2010. Sloan Parker. All Rights Reserved.

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GAY DAY IS BACK!!!

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Sunday, February 26th is Gay Day at my Yahoo Group.  Gay Day is the one day a month when the best authors in GLBT Romance stop by to post excerpts of their new and upcoming releases.

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The following authors will be generously offering giveaways you can enter to win:

ALLY BLUE – GIVING 3 SEPARATE WINNERS CHOICE FROM BACKLIST

LEX VALENTINE – KISSING JOAN COLLINS

P.A. BROWN – LATIN BOYS

ANDREW GREY – ARTISTIC PURSUITS

LYNN LORENZ – BAYOU’S END

PD SINGER – MAROON: DONAL AGUS JIMMY

TARA LAIN – FIRE BALLS OR VOLLEY BALLS

ELIZABETH NOBLE – WINNERS CHOICE FROM BACKLIST

TRINA LAIN – WINNERS CHOICE FROM BACKLIST

HELEN BEATTIE – LOVE LED THEM

JUSTIN SOUTH – BOYFRIENDS PAUL & SAM

KC BURN – FIRST TIME FOREVER

ERICA PIKE – A LIFE WITHOUT YOU, HOT HANDS, & GRADE-A-SEX DEAL

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The amazing Authors below will be popping in and out to chat & post excerpts from their latest books: 

BERENGARIA BROWN – A LITTLE LIGHT LOVING

VIKI LYN – BLUE SKYE

LYNN LORENZ – DUTY BOUND

AKM MILES – SCARCITY HOLIDAYS

LOU HARPER – ACADEMIC PURSUITS

MEGAN SLAYER – PERMANENT

BELINDA MCBRIDE – WHEN I FALL

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The day will run from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. CST in the Ethan Day Yahoo Group where we’ll be posting excerpts, running contests for free books, and chatting about all the new and upcoming releases from your favorite authors.

 

I hope everyone will stop by to catch up with your favorite authors and join in all the fun!