Monday Meets: Sarah Madison

holidayhouseswapfs_v2-200x300Holiday House Swap

release date Dec 21, 2016

Now available for pre-order at these outlets:


Amazon CA:

Amazon AU:

Amazon UK:


Dreamspinner Press:

All Romance:

Cover Artist: Brooke Albrecht


Reclusive writer Noah Kinley is facing a dilemma: how to confess to the world he’s really the author of a best-selling romance series. For years, his friend Julie has been the face of his brand, but she wants her life back now. Fast running out of ideas for his popular series, Noah wants to break out into other genres. Not that he’s writing much of anything at the moment anyway, thanks to paralyzing writer’s block. With his publisher breathing down his neck for the next installment, he hopes a change of scene will get his writer’s juices flowing again. Desperate enough to try anything, during the holidays Noah swaps his isolated cabin in the woods for a gentrified horse farm.

USAF Major Connor Harrison has chosen forced retirement over facing charges for an unauthorized mission to rescue a buddy from behind enemy lines. No one expects him home for the holidays, and he certainly didn’t anticipate finding a stranger in his house, much less Noah Kinley with his acid tongue and a wry sense of humor that pierces all of Connor’s defenses.

Both men need to figure out what the next chapter in their lives will be—and whether it will include each other.


To his delight, a wall switch within arm’s length turned out to be for a sound system. He fiddled with the dial until he found a radio station playing Christmas music. He sank down into the bubbling water until just his toes and head were sticking out. Bing Crosby sang a rousing rendition of “Mele Kalikimaka.” Obviously another indication the station was getting desperate for different Christmas songs already. Then the playlist segued into one of many versions of “Santa Baby,” all of which Noah hated. Still, the sheer bliss of soaking in a steaming tub without having to cross a snow-covered porch to get there had him humming along when “The Twelve Days of Christmas” came on.

Noah had just belted out “five go-old rings” when he opened his eyes to see the bathroom door slowly swinging toward him. His jaw dropped in horror when he saw a solider dressed in desert camo standing in the entranceway. The man had a 9mm in his hand and had used the barrel to open the door.

Noah couldn’t help it. He shrieked and flung the Kindle aside, ducking down into the Jacuzzi. It didn’t take him long to realize this wasn’t a workable escape plan, and he burst up out of the water, gasping for air. Blinking soapy water out of his eyes, he grasped the wine bottle by the neck and swung it overhead with the intent of throwing it.

To his surprise, while he’d been underwater, the solider had holstered his gun. The man had also taken off his cap to reveal a shock of short brown hair practically sticking up on end. He was leaning against the sink with his arms folded across his chest. The overhead light made his eyes gleam like a cat’s, almost amber in color. His two-day stubble made him look like an extra from Miami Vice. Although he no longer acted as though he planned to shoot Noah, he gave off a dangerous vibe just the same.

“Calm down.” He was unimpressed by Noah’s defensive posture. “I’m guessing you’re not a burglar after all. Unless you’re the kind of thief who enjoys breaking into other people’s houses to take bubble baths.”

“I’m not a thief!” Fear sharpened into anger. “Your first clue should have been the Ford Fiesta sitting in the driveway. A real thief would drive something more impressive, like a black Hummer or something. The second tip-off should have been the fact there’s no evidence of a break-in, and the third should’ve been, I don’t know, perhaps my luggage sitting in the guest room?” Rage made his blood pressure go up like a rocket. “Whereas you came busting in here with a gun in your hand, so tell me, Lieutenant Soldier Man, why the hell I shouldn’t call the police right now?”

Noah noted his hand holding the wine was trembling, and he hastily set the bottle down. Awareness of his naked state, damp and only thinly covered by soap, made him ooze back down into the bubbles. He swept some toward him to cover strategic areas, all while glaring at the soldier.

“Well, I don’t know,” the military man drawled in a lazy manner that sent a little chill down Noah’s spine, even though he was hunkered down in the steaming water. “Maybe because I’m between you and the phone. Maybe because I still have a gun and you don’t. Or maybe—” The man pushed himself off the sink and took a step closer to the tub, pressing his fists into his hips as he leaned over to speak with emphasis. “Maybe because I live here.”

Noah gasped. “You do not!”


sm-logo-1-resizedSarah Madison is a writer with a little dog, a large dog, an even bigger horse, too many cats, and a very patient boyfriend. An amateur photographer and a former competitor in the horse sport known as eventing, when she’s not out hiking with the dogs or down at the stables, she’s at the laptop working on her next story. When she’s in the middle of a chapter, she relies on the smoke detector to tell her dinner is ready. She writes because it’s cheaper than therapy.

Sarah Madison was a finalist in the 2013, 2015, and 2016 Rainbow Awards. The Boys of Summer won Best M/M Romance in the 2013 PRG Reviewer’s Choice Awards. The Sixth Sense series was voted 2nd place in the 2014 PRG Reviewer’s Choice Awards for Best M/M Mystery series, and 3rd place in the 2105 PGR Reviewer’s Choice Awards for Best M/M Paranormal/Urban Fantasy series.

If you want to make her day, e-mail her and tell you how much you like her stories.












Monday Meets: Elizabeth Noble

Join me in welcoming Elizabeth Noble today on my humble blog.

Monday Meets Author: Elizabeth Noble




by Elizabeth Noble

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Release Date: November 23, 2016

Word count: 31,049

ISBN-13 9781634778329

Cover Artist: TL Bland


Tyler McCall has made mistakes. He was a teacher—before he fell for a student in his school. That misstep cost him his job and everything he’d worked for. He moved to the Black Hills of Wyoming to start his life over, and he’s happy working at the Big Rock Inn near Devils Tower.

Linden Bourne, a no-nonsense FBI agent Tyler had met before, returns to Wyoming hot on the trail of a killer. The previously unexplored attraction between them grows—which is good considering they’ll be spending a lot of time together when a blizzard strands them at the inn. Cut off from the outside world, with no power, they’ll need to rely on their wits and each other to survive.

Especially when it becomes clear they’re not alone—and the danger they face comes from more than the elements.



Linden slowly closed the yearbook and looked around the apartment. It was early afternoon, so there was light coming through the windows, but still there was a noticeable dimming in the room. He watched as Tyler cocked his head and then turned to study the wall at the far end of the room, near the kitchen. There was such silence inside it was almost frightening. Outside was a different matter. Without the low hum from the refrigerator or the sound of the heat kicking on, the blowing wind seemed louder than it had a minute ago. In fact, Linden hadn’t noticed the outside noises very much except when he was actually outside in the elements.

“I thought you said there was a generator?” Linden asked.

Tyler’s voice was close to a whisper. “Yeah, there are. Two, actually.”

“How long does it take before they kick on?”

“The one that powers this part of the building should have kicked on already. They both should’ve.” Tyler got up and walked to the apartment door.

“Wait.” Linden stopped him before he could pull the door open. “Where’s that shotgun you said you have?” He realized Tyler likely wouldn’t ask him to go back out into the storm. “You shouldn’t go alone.”

Tyler opened his mouth, probably to ask if that was necessary, then closed it again when Linden arched one eyebrow. A few long strides to the pullout couch and he reached under the base and extracted an older gun. Linden followed, took the weapon, and checked the chamber.

“Not much protection without the shells,” Linden observed.

Tyler nodded at the Pullman kitchen. “Above the microwave.”

Linden retrieved the shells and loaded the shotgun, then nodded at Tyler, who looked relieved. “Look, there are all of a sudden too many coincidences to not take this situation very seriously. I think we need to be cautious and smart about what we do from here on in.” He dipped his head toward the door. “Obviously someone has been hiding here, maybe even since the work crews left. I can only come up with a few reasonable explanations, and I don’t like a single one of them.”

Tyler pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He focused on some point between his feet for a few seconds before lifting his head and standing a little straighter. “I think I have the same explanations. Someone is hiding here, and they don’t want to be found or they’re here waiting to catch someone alone.”

“Either situation presents us with a potentially very dangerous person. If they’re hiding out, it’s a good bet it’s because they’ve done something wrong. If they’re here for someone, that person is you, because other than a few people at my FBI office and Randy, no one knew I was coming here to talk to you,” Linden said quietly.

“You’re the wild card.”

“Yes. One guy who works in a bar sticking around to watch this place isn’t much of a threat. If whoever that is came here because of you, they’ll know you’re not some retired special-forces Rambo seeking a quieter life or something.” Linden paused to gather his thoughts. “I don’t suppose you know jujitsu or are secretly a black-ops sniper?”

Tyler laughed and spread his arms wide. “No. Sorry. Just a teacher turned inn worker who really hates the cold. I can shoot that gun, however.”


Sales links:

Dreamspinner Press

All Romance eBooks/OmniLit


Barnes & Noble



Book Five of the Circles Series

circles2-logoAll the books are stand alones and don’t need to be read in order.

Series page:

Series Blurb:

Every life is a circle, and sometimes those circles connect and overlap in unexpected ways, even if the patterns they form aren’t obvious at first glance.

Past and present, from the wilderness to small towns and cities, the greedy and evil seek to exploit the vulnerable. The brave men of law enforcement fight to protect the innocent and punish the guilty—but they’re not alone. Men from all walks of life are called to stand beside them and solve these mysteries. Along the way, lives intertwine as couples are reminded that one thing makes the struggle worthwhile: love.


Elizabeth Noble Bio:

Elizabeth Noble started telling stories before she actually knew how to write, and her nerw-logo-en-61915-copyfamily was very happy when she learned to put words on a page. Those words turned into fan fiction that turned into a genuine love of M/M romance fiction. Being able to share her works with Dreamspinner is really a dream come true. She has a real love for a good mystery complete with murder and twisty plots as well as all things sci-fi, futuristic, and supernatural and a bit of an unnatural interest in a super-volcano in Wyoming.

Elizabeth has three grown children and is now happily owned by an adorable mixed breed canine princess and one tabby cat. She lives in her native northeast Ohio, the perfect place for gardening, winter and summer sports (go Tribe and Cavs!). When she’s not writing she’s working as a veterinary nurse, so don’t be surprised to see her men with a pet or three who are a very big part of their lives.

Elizabeth received several amateur writing awards. Since being published several of her novels have received honorable mentions in the Rainbow Awards. Her novel Jewel Cave was a runner up in the 2015 Rainbow awards in the Gay Mystery/Thriller category.



Circles website:

Vampire Guard website:

Dreamspinner page:



Facebook page:

Twitter: @elizabethnoble1


Sign up for Elizabeth’s newsletter:



Monday Meets: David Dawson

Welcome David Dawson to my blog. I have to apologize for this not being posted on Monday. David sent me the materials a LONG time ago and I THOUGHT I had it scheduled. Apparently I have a poltergeist in my computer. But, here is the post.


The Necessary Deaths by David C. Dawson.

The first of the Dominic Delingpole Mysteries.

Blurb: A young journalism student lies unconscious in a hospital bed in Brighton, England. His life hangs in the balance after a ketamine overdose. But was it attempted suicide, or attempted murder? At the request of the student’s mother, British lawyer Dominic Delingpole reluctantly takes on the role of investigator, aided by his outspoken opera singer partner, Jonathan McFadden.

The student’s boyfriend discovers compromising photographs hidden in his lover’s room. The photographs not only feature senior politicians and business chiefs, but the young journalist himself. Is he being blackmailed, or is he the blackmailer?

As Dominic and Jonathan investigate further, their lives are threatened and three people are murdered. They uncover a conspiracy that reaches into the highest levels of government and powerful corporations. The people behind it are ruthless, no one can be trusted. The bond between Dominic and Jonathan deepens as they struggle not only for answers, but for their very survival.


BIOG: David C. Dawson is an author, award-winning journalist and documentary maker, living near Oxford in the UK.

He has travelled extensively, filming in nearly every continent of the world. He has lived in London, Geneva and San Francisco, but now prefers the tranquillity of the Oxfordshire countryside.

David is a Mathematics graduate from Southampton University in England. After graduating, he joined the BBC in London as a trainee journalist. He worked in radio newsrooms for several years before moving to television as a documentary director. During the growing AIDS crisis in the late eighties, he is proud to say that he directed the first demonstration of putting on a condom on British television.

After more than twenty years with the BBC, he left to go freelance. He has produced videos for several charities, including Ethiopiaid; which works to end poverty in Ethiopia, and Hestia; a London-based mental health charity.

David has one son, who is also a successful filmmaker.

In his spare time, David tours Europe on his ageing Triumph motorbike and sings with the London Gay Men’s Chorus. He has sung with the Chorus at St Paul’s Cathedral, The Roundhouse and the Royal Festival Hall, but David is most proud of the time they sang at the House of Lords, campaigning for equal marriage to be legalized in the UK.




“Mrs. Gregory,” said Dominic. “I would be very happy to have you as a client, but I’m not sure in what way I can act for you.”

Samantha smiled. “And neither am I just at the moment. Let’s call you a professional friend. I have no one else who I can turn to, and your legal mind will help me to see things a little more clearly. As you can tell, I’m a little emotional just now.” She turned away to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. Then she looked at him steadily.

“Simon and I are very close. Ever since Richard, his father, died in a climbing accident, we have been a very tight family unit. I’d like to think Simon and I can tell each other everything.”

Dominic wondered if she was keeping up a brave front, or whether she really believed Simon told her everything. Her comments clearly contradicted what Simon’s housemate Jay had said an hour ago. Dominic decided that, as she was his client, he owed her the duty of honesty, and he should tell her about what he had learned in the last few hours.

“Samantha, I’m afraid I believe Simon may not have confided everything in you in recent times. I went to see John this morning before coming here. He told me about their relationship and how Simon was not yet ready to tell you.”

Samantha smiled.

“Dominic, I’m his mother. Do you think that I didn’t know?” She sighed. “I knew he was finding it difficult to tell me, and I was waiting for him to pick the right time. I didn’t want to rush him.” She paused. “But yes, you’re right, and I am wrong. Simon hasn’t confided everything to me; I merely know and am waiting for him to tell me. John is a lovely boy, and I was just pleased to know that Simon is happy.”

Samantha narrowed her eyes slightly as she asked, “But why do you think that means he must have kept other secrets from me? Surely you of all people must know how difficult it is to come out?”

Dominic blushed briefly. “Everyone’s circumstances are different, of course, and for young people it really is much easier….”

“Oh nonsense! Can I just say that I think it’s a bit rich for you to judge Simon when you’re so secretive about yourself? We spent nearly three hours in the car together last night, and I still don’t know whether or not you have a boyfriend!”
This time Dominic’s face turned crimson.

“Samantha, could we just get back to—”

“Well, do you?”

Dominic sighed. “I think it’s my turn to acknowledge that I am wrong. Yes, I do have a partner, and no, I am not very open about it. In this day and age, it probably is unnecessary for me to be quite so discreet. But after a while, it gets to be almost a habit.”

Samantha giggled. “Oh, Dominic, how delightfully bashful you are! I imagine that it’s rare you have a conversation like this with your clients.”

Dominic smiled. “Samantha, I can tell you truthfully that I have never had a conversation like this with my clients. You must meet Jonathan some time. I think you two would get on like a house on fire.”


Amazon Kindle UK
Amazon paperback UK
Amazon Kindle US
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Barnes & Noble
Apple iBooks















Monday Meets: Asta Idonea aka Nicki J. Markus

We have two books to celebrate today. The House Guest by Asta Idonea (m/m) and Brougham Hall by Nicki J. Markus (m/f). Info on a give away at the bottom of the post.



The House Guest

Asta Idonea

28 October 2016

MLR Press

Short Story/MM/PNR

Heat Level: 4







Audio Excerpt:

Buy Links:

MLR Press:


Amazon US:

Amazon UK:

Author Bio & Links


Asta Idonea (aka Nicki J Markus) was born in England, but now lives in Adelaide, South Australia. She has loved both reading and writing from a young age and is also a keen linguist, having studied several foreign languages.

Asta launched her writing career in 2011 and divides her efforts not only between MM and mainstream works but also between traditional and indie publishing. Her works span the genres, from paranormal to historical and from contemporary to fantasy. It just depends what story and which characters spring into her mind!

As a day job, Asta works as a freelance editor and proofreader, and in her spare time she enjoys music, theatre, cinema, photography, and sketching. She also loves history, folklore and mythology, pen-palling, and travel; all of which have provided plenty of inspiration for her writing.









Amazon Author US:

Amazon Author UK:

Brougham Hall

Nicki J. Markus


28 October 2016

Fireborn Publishing


Heat Level: 1




She shivered as she peeled off her layers of clothing. It was cold in the room now night had fallen, so she did not dawdle, wanting to get beneath the blankets and warm her frozen skin. She slipped into her shift and bed jacket, and then tucked the loose strands of her hair into her night cap. Ready at last, Catherine turned back the bed, extinguished the lamp, and climbed in.


She listened, but the voices were gone. No, not gone; they had never been there to begin with. She was exhausted, and this was her first night in a strange house and an unfamiliar bed. It was natural she would feel anxious and hear things that were not there. Nonetheless, if she carried on in this manner, she would soon convince herself a ghost was hovering at the foot of her bed, and that was nothing but nonsense. With this reprimand in mind, she closed her eyes and settled down to sleep.

Audio Excerpt:

Buy Links:

Fireborn Publishing:


Amazon US:

Amazon UK:


Print Promo Offer!

Save an awesome 20% if you buy the paperback direct from Createspace during the first month of release.

Use Promo Code: 8VJLDMWH 


I am offering an eBook copy of my MF PNR short story Canção do Amor to two lucky readers. To be in with a chance to win, please comment on this post, telling me your favourite historical period. I will review comments across all participating blogs at the end of the tour and will randomly select the winners, whom I will contact privately by 6 November, as well as announcing them on my FB and Twitter feeds. (Prize value US$0.98 / GB£0.99)


Monday Meets: H. Lewis-Foster

Hey there,

Welcome H. Lewis-Foster to my Monday Meets (even if it’s actually Tuesday) <G>


Strokes on a Canvas


It’s great to be here at Brynn’s blog to tell you a little bit about my new novella Strokes on a Canvas. It’s set in 1920s London, a fabulous time and place for literature, fashion and art. I love to visit London whenever I can, and one of my favourite places in the city is the National Portrait Gallery, where there’s a wonderful section devoted to the great and good—and sometimes not so good—of the twenties. There’s a wide variety of artistic styles, and the stories that accompany the portraits are just as diverse.

Amongst the politicians and aristocrats are writers and artists, who were part of a privileged few at that time who could be relatively open about being gay. Life wasn’t easy for these men, who still lived in the shadow of Oscar Wilde’s imprisonment, but they could at least be true to themselves within their own circle of friends.

In Strokes on a Canvas, bank clerk Evan finds himself amongst this more liberal, bohemian class when he meets artist Milo. He doesn’t know what to make of Milo’s ideas and friends at first, and he’s shocked when Milo takes him to a sophisticated, secret gay club. Milo and Evan are from very different backgrounds, and their relationship isn’t always straightforward, but I hope you’ll enjoy their journey in such a fascinating decade.

Strokes on a Canvas is now available at Amazon.


London, 1924. Bank clerk Evan Calver is enjoying a quiet pint and notices a man smiling at him across the bar. While the Rose and Crown isn’t that kind of pub, Evan thinks his luck might be in, and he narrowly escapes humiliation when he realises the man is smiling at a friend. Eavesdropping on their conversation, Evan discovers the man is named Milo Halstead and served as an army captain during the war.

The next day Evan goes to the British Museum, where he bumps into Milo again. This time Milo introduces himself, explaining he’s an art teacher and would like to paint Evan’s portrait for a competition. Evan can’t believe an upper-class artist would want to paint the son of a miner, but he agrees to sit for Milo. Their acquaintance blossoms into friendship, and Evan hopes it might become more, but when a dense smog descends over the city, their future is as unclear as the London sky.


On the opposite side of the cabinet, a man was gazing intently at Evan’s favourite amphora. Evan doubted he was having the same thoughts as himself as he scrutinized the naked athletes, but he seemed transfixed by its sporting design. The dark-haired man was wearing a brown pinstripe suit, the kind seen in newspaper photographs of famous actors and royalty, and which Evan could never hope to afford. The stranger looked born to wear his stylish attire, his confident posture showing the suit’s fine cut to full advantage. Then he raised his eyes, and Evan saw the man was not a total stranger. His hair was smooth with brilliantine, and he wasn’t wearing his gold-rimmed glasses, but he was unmistakably Captain Milo Halstead.

Evan was about to make a hasty exit, when he realised the former soldier was smiling at him through the glass. He may have looked smarter than he had last night, but his smile was still as warm and kind as one of Miss Nightingale’s nurses. Evan didn’t imagine the captain remembered him, but he smiled back, thinking it would be impolite not to, then turned to walk away. To his surprise, Evan’s action was mirrored on the other side of the cabinet as Captain Halstead moved in the same direction. He was still looking at Evan, still smiling, and as they both reached the end of the cabinet, Evan wondered what would happen next. Would words be exchanged? And what would those words be? If Milo remembered him from last night and wasn’t the genial man he seemed, they might hint at blackmail or violence.

Evan was tempted to put his head down and make a run for it, but he didn’t want to attract the attention of the museum guards. He took a breath and steadily stepped forward, only to find Milo standing in his way.

“Excuse me. Could I get past?”

“Of course, but…” Milo’s smile was uncertain now, but he didn’t move from Evan’s path. “It was you I saw in the Rose and Crown last night, wasn’t it?”

Evan lowered his eyes and weighed up his options. He could admit he was at the pub and ask to know what business of Milo’s it was. Or he could deny being anywhere near the place, or even knowing of its existence. The latter seemed the most sensible choice, avoiding all confrontation, but when Evan looked up and saw Milo’s blue eyes sparkling cheerfully back at him, he was overwhelmed by a longing to spend a few seconds more in his company.

With no idea of Milo’s intentions, Evan answered, “That’s right. I saw you there too.”

About H. Lewis-Foster

Lewis-Foster lives in the north of England and has always worked with books in one form or another. As a keen reader of gay fiction, she decided to try writing herself and is now the proud author of several short stories and a debut novel ‘Burning Ashes’. She creates characters that are talented, funny and quite often gorgeous, but who all have their faults and vulnerable sides, and she hopes you’ll enjoy reading their stories as much as she loves writing them. H. has also ventured into playwriting and was thrilled to see her first play performed at the Southend Playwriting Festival.






Monday Meets (Special Edition): Thianna Durston

Welcome Thianna Durston to a special edition of Monday Meets:


If You Can’t Take The Heat:

Series: A Steel Door series / Dallas Fire & Rescue series crossover

Steel Door, Book #2

Can it be read as a standalone – Yes or no: Yes

Cover Artist: Thianna Durston



Austin Reynolds always wanted to be a firefighter but an accident when he was 18 killed that dream. Life as a chef, creating wonderful spicy food, fills that void. His monthly visits to feed the hungry firefighters and paramedics of Station 58 help as well. On one of those visits, he meets someone and is instantly attracted.

FBI agent Conrad “Rad” Strauss is on the hunt for a serial killer who tortures and then burns his victims alive. While he rarely finds time for activities outside of work, the need to fulfill the dom side of him takes him to a BDSM club where he and Austin find they have more than firefighting in common.

As their attraction heats up, so does the pressure from the killer known as The Artist. For he has his eyes on Austin and unless Conrad can stop him, his lover is about to go up in flames.


Excerpt :

The restaurant was busy, but the attached bar had seating and a menu. Once they were ensconced in a booth, Austin shook off the weird feelings and focused on the hot guy seated across from him. “Glad you wanted to get some food. Your nightly texts are killing me.”

Conrad grinned at him. “Just want to send you off to la-la land with something tantalizing.”

With a snort, Austin almost replied when their waiter walked up. After ordering a couple beers and their food, he said, “Considering I have to use my hands to get rid of the tension…”

Leaning forward, Conrad whispered, “If we develop a D/s relationship, boy, you won’t be doing that without my okay.”

Austin gulped and his heart sped up. Just knowing that Conrad could put him on orgasm restriction was thrilling… and horrifying all at once. He didn’t want to be denied. So why was his cock all hot and bothered?

As if he could read Austin’s mind, Conrad smiled and leaned forward even more. “You like that idea. Of that little piece of control given up to me. Don’t you?”

Unable not to, Austin nodded. “Yes,” he finally managed to get the breath to say.

“Good boy. I’ll reward you for that.”

Ah hell, dinner was going to be torture. Austin wanted to take a trip to the bathroom to rub one out, but didn’t feel like he should without asking. And he wasn’t sure if Conrad would say no as they didn’t have any kind of contract between them. But he kind of hoped he would.



Author bio:

Thianna Durston is a writer by day and supernova by night. Or at least that’s what the faeries tell her. And who is she to deny those pesky *cough* lovely little creatures?

She lives in the Pacific Northwest, though her heart belongs elsewhere. In the meantime, until she can return to the place she calls home, she happily lives in a city that still thinks it’s a small town. Thankfully, it has given her muse lots of amusing places to start a story.


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Monday Meets: Tinnean

Hey everyone. Help me welcome  Tinnean to my blog. Vampires, black swans, and match-making agencies. What’s not to love? I’m definitely putting this one on my TBR list.

Guest Author: Tinnean


The story of The Black Swan

Late last fall, the list dad of a Facebook group I belong to announced a call for a vampire anthology. I’d contributed Blue and Green Persuasion, a sci fi story, to Foolish Encounters, which commemorated the group’s first anniversary, and I hoped to be a part of the new anthology as well. However, the call came with the proviso that the vampires weren’t the sort Bram Stoker wrote about.

It took some thinking, but I came up with the idea of a matchmaking agency for vampires. Because everyone needs a little love, don’t they?

While doing research, I learned about the black swan, an individual who wasn’t a vampire but who was close to one. Then there was the Golden Circle, consisting of individuals who formed a vampire coven. That coven included black swans, vampires, and kitra—those who were not only vampires but donors as well.

Never one to avoid fiddling, however, I reworked the black swan into someone who would protect his vampire during the day. Then I decided that, while in this universe being a black swan was genetic, not every child born into a black swan family was a black swan.

Okay. *rubs hands together* I’ve got the terms. I’ve got the basic plotline: boy meets vampire, boy can’t have vampire, boy creates the Golden Circle Matchmaking Agency so his vampire will have a companion. I’m ready to get writing.

The word limit was 15k, and I had about ten months to whip it into shape. Duck soup, right? Um… not quite, but not for the reason you might think.

The story moved along quite well, even considering the left turns at Albuquerque it decided to take from time to time. The problem was it kept moving along, until the word count topped 43k.

Well, that was obviously too long for the anthology, so another story had to be written for it. That story was about some of the secondary characters from They Come By Night, a vampire novel I wrote for Dreamspinner. The new story mentions the Golden Circle Matchmaking Agency. And the “Spanish vampire” who was “such a nightmare?” He also appeared in They Come By Night.

Meanwhile, The Black Swan still was at loose ends until I contacted JMS Books, and it found a home there.

So come along and meet Gabe Granger and Remember Littlebury, and the other black swans, and follow them through the corridors of time.

One final note: if the name Gabe Granger sounds familiar, this Gabe is the great-great-grand of Granger, who cross-dresses in the Spy vs. Spook and Mann of My Dreams series.

I do love me some crossovers. 😉


Gabe Granger gathers intelligence for George Washington, even after he’s bitten by a vampyre in the service of the British. Remember Littlebury, his longtime friend, stays with him as his black swan, keeping him safe from sunlight and getting messages to General Washington.

After the war ends, they continue working for the fledgling government through one conflict after another. When Gabe loses Remember at the Battle of Gettysburg, he’s ready to give up, but his country still needs his services. And there are many black swans for him to choose from. None are any more fortunate than Remember, and one by one they’re killed in various wars.

All Noah Poynter wants is to be a black swan, and he’s devastated when his pop tells him he’s just a normal. In spite of everything, Gabe and Noah become friends. Is there any hope for the two of them?


Chapter 1

The war between the former colonies and England had been raging for almost three years, and now, once again, it was early autumn. The leaves had turned to red and gold, and had started to fall.

Gabe Granger made his way cautiously through the forest. He had been sent out to reconnoitre the British encampment about twenty miles to the north. One of his greatest accomplishments was his ability to retrieve information with no trouble at all. In addition, he was a good tracker, one of General Washington’s best.

That was why he couldn’t understand how anyone could sneak up on him without his being aware of it.

And even though the night was moonless, it seemed as if a shadow flowed around him, blotting out the stars.

“You’re quite attractive for a barbarian,” the owner of the shadow murmured. And while the voice was feminine, French, cultivated—the grip was as powerful as any man’s. “Shall I make you even more so, my pet? Would you like to belong to me forever?” She didn’t give him the chance to say no. She twisted his head and the pain came as a shock as she sank her fangs into his throat.

He’d heard of these creatures of the night. Even the Tuscaroras, who had raised him for a time after his parents had been killed by renegade white men, had tales of them.

Gabe had always been able to depend on his body. Now he was frightened by how easily she seemed to overpower him. He couldn’t even cry out for help.

He felt her draining the blood from his body, and he knew the best he could hope for was to die. The worst was for her to complete what she was doing and have him return as one of the undead.


Gabe would have whimpered in relief, but not a single sound could get past his lips.

The suction at his throat ceased, but the woman didn’t remove her fangs. It hurt.

“You know we have need of him as a spy. Will you make him your childe?” This voice was male and was equally cultivated, although it was British.

The woman withdrew her fangs but her lips remained fastened to his throat and she stroked her tongue over the wounds she’d made in his neck. In spite of himself, Gabe felt his prick harden. Oh God, what was wrong with him?

She raised her head. “A colonist? A Yankee? No.” Scorn filled her words, and she tossed him aside. “Besides, his blood isn’t in the least what I would want to sample again.”

“Did you hurt him? I told you I needed—” The Redcoat spat out a curse, and Gabe realized the woman must have left. “Stupid Frenchwoman, wasting food. Just like her queen.”

Gabe had the impression the man objected more to her nationality than to her sex.

The man cut his wrist. “I don’t have time for the entire procedure, little Yankee. This will have to suffice. Drink.”

Gabe didn’t know what the man was talking about, but the scent of blood was intoxicating. He latched onto the wrist that was offered to him and began to work the wound to obtain what he needed.

“I know you were General Washington’s spy.” The man chuckled and stroked Gabe’s hair with his free hand. “You’ll spy for me now, won’t you, little Yankee?”

Gabe froze. “What?”

“Washington won’t want you—no normal person will. You’re too dangerous. He won’t be able to trust you around his men. But I? I’ll give you free rein—feed from all the Yankee soldiers you’d like. You’ve stopped drinking.” There was a frown in his voice. “Continue. Once this melding is complete, you’ll belong to me. You’ll do whatever I ask of you.”

“And that includes betraying my country?”

“You’re British.”

“I’m American.”

“Don’t be tiresome.” He nudged Gabe’s lips with his wrist. “Do as I say.”

“I won’t.” Gabe shoved aside the arm and spat out the blood.

“Then die, foolish Yankee.” The voice had grown so cold, Gabe couldn’t prevent a shiver from running down his spine. The Englishman tossed Gabe aside much as the Frenchwoman had, and then Gabe was alone in the forest.

He wanted to weep. He’d failed in his mission. Soon it would be sunrise; he was going to die. From what he had learned, he knew the sun’s rays would melt the flesh from his bones. He sank back onto the bed of leaves and felt his heart stutter and slow. But he was a loyal American. He would not feed on men who trusted him—trusted that he’d find the information that would get them through another battle.

He prepared to meet his Maker…

No, goddammit, he wasn’t going to lie down and die like a… a Macaroni. He could hear the faint scrabbling of some small creature—possibly a squirrel or a raccoon. He’d find it and drink its blood.

He launched himself at it and only succeeded in hitting his head against the tree.

Face it, Gabe. You were born under an unlucky star. Except when it came to having a good friend like Remember Littlebury. And thank God, Remember wasn’t here. Vampyres could be unpredictable, and did they even recall who their friends were? Could Gabe trust himself not to attack Remember? No, this was for the best. Gabe was ready to die if he must, but being unable to say goodbye to Remember… It sorrowed him greatly.

About the Author:

Tinnean has been writing since the 3rd grade, where she was inspired to try her hand at epic poetry. Fortunately, that epic poem didn’t survive the passage of time; however, her love of writing not only survived but thrived, and in high school she became a member of the magazine staff, where she contributed a number of stories.

It was with the advent of the family’s second computer – the first intimidated everyone – that her writing took off, enhanced in part by fanfiction, but mostly by the wonder that is copy and paste.

While involved in fandom, she was nominated for both Rerun and Light My Fire Awards. Now she concentrates on her original characters and has been published by Nazca Plains, Dreamspinner, JMS Books, and Wilde City, as well as being self-published. Recent novels have received honorable mention in the 2013, 2014, and 2015 Rainbow Awards, and two of the 2014 submissions were finalists.

A New Yorker at heart, she resides in SW Florida with her husband and two computers.

Ernest Hemingway’s words reflect Tinnean’s devotion to her craft: Once writing has become your major vice and greatest pleasure, only death can stop it.

She can be contacted at:


Live Journal:

Twitter: @tinneantoo


Amazon Author Page:

Tinnean's earlier works can be found at:

Buy Links:

JMS Books:,qgy9W3



Barnes & Noble:



Monday Meets: Alice Archer

Welcome Alice Archer to my blog today!

Everyday History, by Alice Archer


Interview with Alice Archer

Do you write more by logic or intuition, or some combination of the two? 

A combination. When I started Everyday History, I didn’t know how to write a novel. I knew how other people wrote novels, but then it was just me and my laptop in a room with the door closed, and all that theory had to be translation into some kind of action.

I went for the smorgasbord approach. If a method appealed to me, I tried it. I experimented. A lot. If something didn’t work, I ditched it and tried something else. If something sort of worked, I teased out the bit that was working, kept it, and tossed the rest.

I used logic to decide on an experiment, then intuition to decide if it was working. False starts came and went. I finished the novel, but also learned a lot about how I write a novel. I’m building on that foundation, doing more experiments, as I write another novel.

What did you edit out of Everyday History?

A novel in progress feels like an organic, pulsing entity with a life of its own. As its devoted herder, I’m tasked with lopping off options.

At one point, there was a decent-sized section, between Everyday History’s main climax point and the epilogue, in which Henry and Ruben got to know each other again in real time. Although it was cut from what I now think of as “the real version,” writing that ill-fated section helped me deepen and align the personalities of the main characters and then infuse that knowledge into the final version of the story.

What were you like at school?

Quiet. Mousy. If I raised my hand to speak, the entire class would look at me in shock. Well, my memory has probably embellished it, but that’s how it felt.

Art and English classes were my favorites. In my senior year of high school, I decided I was bored with being such a good student and wanted to experience being a bad student. I informed my art teacher in advance, so she wouldn’t be upset, then did all my work but didn’t turn in a major assignment. I got a D, as previously arranged. The next semester I did extra work to pull my grade back up.

Massive nerd.

If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be?

I’d say, “Sweetie, the only person who knows how you write a novel is you. That means the only way you’re going to discover how to do it, so you can have the utter and complete joy of doing it over and over again, is to practice. Don’t wait. Start practicing right now.”

What was the best money you ever spent as a writer?

Buying eleventy-trillion novels to read. I’ve learn so much about writing from reading.

Why did you choose the excerpt below?

This is a scene in which Ruben takes a time-out to assess the results of his experiments.


Everyday  History

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance
Novel length: 90,116 wordseverydayhistory_bookcover_dsp

 Book Blurb

Headstrong Ruben Harper has yet to meet an obstacle he can’t convert to a speed bump. He’s used to getting what he wants from girls, but when he develops a fascination for a man, his wooing skills require an upgrade. After months of persuasion, he scores a dinner date with Henry Normand that morphs into an intense weekend. The unexpected depth of their connection scares Ruben into fleeing.

Shy, cautious Henry, Ruben’s former high school history teacher, suspects he needs a wake-up call, and Ruben appears to be his siren. But when Ruben bolts, Henry is left struggling to find closure. Inspired by his conversations with Ruben, Henry begins to write articles about the memories stored in everyday objects. The articles seduce Ruben with details from their weekend together and trigger feelings too strong to avoid. As Henry’s snowballing fame takes him out of town and further out of touch, Ruben stretches to close the gaps that separate them.



If Ruben didn’t know better, if he viewed his own tale as an outsider, it might look like the story of him falling in love with Henry.

That thought makes him excuse himself and head to the bathroom.

Door closed, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, Ruben takes stock.

But I don’t do love. Not the kind that presumes a future. He’s never been that kind of guy. “Sorry,” he always says when someone falls for him. “Love would get in the way of sex.” No amount of pity-me eyes or I-could-be-the-exception pleas ever made him want to change his tune.

Okay, that could be because, until recently, it was always women who wanted more. Maybe love would be different for me with a man. Over the past six weeks Ruben has fended off two I-could-be-the-exception pleas from guys, and neither of them remotely tempted him to consider changing his policy… but they weren’t Henry.

All along Ruben had considered his thing with Henry to be about the thrill of sex with a man. Couldn’t it still be about sex? Henry is older and, Ruben assumes, more experienced than any of the other guys he has fooled around with so far. So maybe sex with Henry is so satisfying because of Henry’s experience. And his exceptional skills as a teacher.

The crux of the matter is the siren call of the learning curve. Because of the proper education Henry is giving him, Ruben feels a new confidence. He’s looking forward to giving the playing field of men another shot back at school. In fact he can hardly wait. He remembers a few of the hot, out gay guys he hasn’t had the confidence to approach. They’d better brace themselves.

Let’s review. I’m an eighteen-year-old male. I’m newly aware that I’m mostly gay. I recently moved away from home for the first time. I attend a large university, full of people my age who are also naturally hopped up on hormones. Is this a description of someone ready for commitment? No. I think not.

Case closed.

With an adjustment for gender, he renews his old policy—Sex, please, hold the love—as his new policy. Pretending anything else would be dishonest. Promising anything else would be cruel.

Ruben slaps his thighs, stands, and nods decisively to himself in the mirror. He gives himself a lecherous grin to seal the deal, remembers to flush the unused toilet, and heads back to the living room.

Sales links:

Dreamspinner Press,



Barnes & Noble,



About Alice


Alice Archer has messed about with words professionally for many years as an editor and writing coach. After living in more than eighty places and cobbling together a portable lifestyle, she has lots of story material to sort through. It has reassured her to discover that even though culture and beliefs can get people into a peck of trouble when they’re falling in love, the human heart beats the same in any language. She currently lives near Nashville. Maybe this move will stick.


Monday Meets: Sarah Madison

Hey all,

Welcome Sarah Madison to my blog!

Guest Author: Sarah Madison


Available now on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited! The bestselling M/M contemporary romance about second chances and lost loves, set in the exciting world of competitive sport horses. If you can’t get enough of the Olympics and you love horses, this book is for you!

Fool’s Gold by Sarah Madison



Eight years ago, Jake Stanford had it all: a spot on the U.S. Olympic Equestrian Team and the love of his life, Rich Evans. A tragic accident wipes out everything in the blink of an eye. Hard work and sacrifice get him another shot at Olympic Gold, but only if he puts his past behind him and agrees to work with Rich again.

Bound by secrets he cannot share, Rich was forced to give up Jake eight years ago. Now he has a second chance to help Jake realize his dreams. But the secrets that drove them apart haven’t changed, and Rich must face them or risk losing Jake forever.


As though sensing Rich’s intense perusal, Jake shifted with a stifled groan as he tried to move and was pulled up short by unexpected pain. Repressing an urge to poke Jake with his cane like some grumpy old man, Rich decided that as Jake’s coach, he had every right to approach the bed. He leaned down so he could speak without startling Jake into moving suddenly.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “Go slow, and stop if you feel any sharp pain.” He stretched out his hand to touch Jake but thought better of it mid-action. His hand flapped awkwardly like a bird trying to decide where to land, and he withdrew it abruptly.

“Did someone get the number of the bus that hit me?” Jake grunted as he inched himself up in stages onto his elbows, and Rich tried not to think about how similar it sounded to the noises Jake had made during sex. Too similar. That was a memory he’d have to shake from his head now.

Jake hissed when he put his right elbow down, and he turned within the covers, winding them around him in a tangle as he rolled onto his back to avoid putting more weight on his arm.

“It was the 4:10 from Kryptonite,” Rich said. “Nonstop express.”

When Jake rolled over, Rich retreated to a safer distance. No matter what he did, he had to maintain some degree of propriety, even if that meant not acting completely naturally around Jake for now. In another lifetime, he would have sat on the bed until he made sure Jake was okay and could shift himself without help. Now it was too much like fondling an open bottle of whiskey when he’d sworn off all hard liquor.

Jake chuckled and then winced as he tried to sit up. He let himself fall back to the bed. “You’re going to have to go on without me. See that the mail gets through. Warn the sheriff. Tell Annabelle….” His message to “Annabelle” went undelivered. Jake covered his eyes with one hand, while letting the other fall dramatically to his chest.

His lightly furred chest. The one Rich wanted to lean down and map every inch of with his lips, committing the taste of skin, the firmness of muscle, and the scent of him to memory once more.

“If you can joke about your imminent demise in the desert, then you can’t be as bad as all that.” Rich’s voice was crisp. How like Jake not to have the slightest inkling how very tempting he was, sprawled out on the bed like some sort of centerfold model. “Pizza’s on the table. I’m headed to the drink machine for some soda. Want anything?”

When he didn’t answer, Rich glanced back. The light of amusement had gone out of Jake’s eyes, leaving them with that bleak, feral-cat expression Rich knew all too well. The one that said he didn’t expect anyone to fill his empty dish anyway and that was fine by him. Rich held his ground, his hand on the doorknob. He wouldn’t give in. He couldn’t. This was what was best for both of them.

“Nothing for me, thanks.” Jake made to sit up, pulling back the covers to free himself from the bedclothes.

Remembering Jake’s naked state, Rich ducked his head and hurried out the door.



Sarah Madison is a writer with a little dog, a large dog, an even bigger horse, too many cats, and a very patient boyfriend. An amateur photographer and a former competitor in the horse sport known as eventing, when she’s not out hiking with the dogs or down at the stables, she’s at the laptop working on her next story. When she’s in the middle of a chapter, she relies on the smoke detector to tell her dinner is ready. She writes because it’s cheaper than therapy.

Sarah enjoys placing hot men in hot water to see how strong they are—like teabags, only sexier. This motto allows her to play in a wide variety of genres, from FBI guys to shifters, with some WW2 fighter pilots and and space adventurers tossed in for good measure.

Sarah Madison was a finalist in the 2013 and 2015 Rainbow Awards. The Boys of Summer won Best M/M Romance in the 2013 PRG Reviewer’s Choice Awards. The Sixth Sense series was voted 2nd place in the 2014 PRG Reviewer’s Choice Awards for Best M/M Mystery series, and 3rd place in the 2105 PGR Reviewer’s Choice Awards for Best M/M Paranormal/Urban Fantasy series.

If you want to make her day, e-mail her and tell you how much you like her stories.

You can find Sarah around the web on




Twitter: @SarahMadisonFic






Waiting for Patrick Blog Tour: Wrapping up

Hey there.

So, today is the last official day of the tour. Waiting for Patrick will go on sale tomorrow. But, you still have until tomorrow at 5PM to comment on any of the blogs listed below. I’ll check everything one more time at 5PM tomorrow and then draw and post the winners on all of the blogs. Here are the updated links that take you directly to my article on each blog.

      Date Blog Name   Blog Owner Blog Address
September 1st Bike Book Reviews Becky
September 2nd Drops of Ink Anne Barwell
September 2nd Snow’s Untangled Threads and Musings Snow Tigra
September 3rd Antonia Aquilante Antonia Acquilante
September 3rd The Story Struggle and Beyond Ki Brightly
September 4th Thianna Durston Thianna Durston
September 4th Unconventional Love Stories Charley Descoteaux
September 4th Misadventures of the Heart Heloise West
September 5th Sandra Bard Sandra Bard
September 5th Tempest O’Riley Tempe O’Riley
September 6th Jackie Keswick Jackie Keswick
September 7th Chaos in the Moonlight K-lee Kline
September 8th Grace R. Duncan Grace Duncan
September 8th Brita Addams Brita Addams
September 8th Cryselle’s Bookshelf Chryselle
September 9th Emotion in Motion Elizabeth Noble
September 9th MM Good Books Review
September 10th Jacob Z Flores Jacob Flores
September 11th Andrew’s Blog Andrew Grey
September 12th Nicki J Marcus Nicki Marcus
September 12th Rainbow Gold Reviews Marc Fleischhauer
September 13th PD Singer PD Singer
September 14th Our Story LGBTQ Historical Fiction Christopher  Moss
September 15th Renee Stevens Renee Stevens
September 15th Purple Rose Tea House Charlie Cochet
September 15th Open Skye Book Reviews
September 15th The Novel Approach Reviews Lisa (Novel Approach)
Throughout the tour Book Trailer on You Tube Lex Valentine