Welcome to a stop on the Midsummer Madness Flash Fiction Blog Hop, where M/M authors provide short original works to read between doing whatever people do on Independence Day. I’m British so my ideas of Independence Day activities are very much drawn from popular culture so, if you celebrate the holiday, please enjoy barbequeing stuff while wrapped in a flag and singing the Star Spangled Banner and shooting down alien star ships. If you don’t celebrate the holiday, enjoy your Saturday.

Here is a full list of the blog participants:

1. velvetpanic Heloise West | mmromantic historical
2. Alexis Duran | Writer of Fantasy, Science Fiction
3. Elin Gregory | Telling it Like it Was
4. Kimber Vale | Come for the sex. Stay for the story
5. C.E. Kilgore | An Author Without Genre
6. Sexy Erotic Xciting~ Evelise Archer
7. Rian Durant | delights of imagination
8. Diane Hartsock | Stories from the Heart
9. Amelia Bishop
10. Bronwyn Heely | Unrandom Randomness

And here is my story, written in response to a picture prompt:

Sunshine and Daisies

Jake blinked sleepily and shifted, feeling the foliage crunch under the back of his head. The beat of the music rose in the hot air and he grinned, jogging a knee in rhythm.

“Mmmwhat?” Bry turned over. “Huh? Oh I like this one.” His hand began to beat time on Jake’s chest. After a moment he began to sing along.

Jake opened his eyes and looked up into the deep clear blue beyond the fringe of gently swaying grass heads and the ox-eye daisies blazing like cheerful little miniatures of the sun. The music drowned out the sounds of all but the heaviest lorries. All he could smell was the crushed greeness of the patch where they were laying, good clean sweat from himself and Bry and a pleasant tang of petrol and metal from the bike parked a few paces away.

It really was one of the most beautiful afternoons he could remember.

He and Bryan had promised themselves a trip to Glastonbury years ago, soon after they had met, even before they had moved in together. But the tickets were a bit steep on their wages so it had been one of those promises they renewed year after year. This year Jake’d had a tax rebate that coincided with some back pay for Bry and so they had done it. Jake grinned, remembering their excitement when the tickets had arrived. They celebrated so hard that night they had broken the bedhead. And now they had got the tickets, got a tent, got the trusty old Yamaha serviced and dug the trash out of the sidecar and everything. It was even fabulous weather, and a line up to die for.

Glastonbury – and they would be there tonight!

Just as soon as the AA turned up with an innertube to fit the sidecar. Where they had picked up the nail God only knew but at least they had made it to this lay-by safely and had somewhere comfortable to wait where they didn’t have to breathe in exhaust fumes. There was even a pub over the road where they’d had pies and shandy for lunch, and the music drifting from the open windows wasn’t half bad.

The tune finished and the radio presenter began to deliver a news report. Bry’s fingers flexed against Jake’s chest, just catching a nipple, and he moved a bit closer. His knee crept over Jake’s and down and between …

“Oh yeah?”Jake raised his head and looked at him. “The grass is long but I don’t think it’s that long.”

Bryan grinned, his eyes still closed, but he grunted with disgust when the music blared out again.
“Eww Britney,” he said. “Ruined the mood, that has.” He placed his head more comfortably and relaxed with a grumble.

Jake chuckled. “You div,” he said. “But I love you.”

“Awwww.” Bry picked him a daisy.

“For me?” Jake took it and kissed the top of Bry’s head then flopped back with a happy sigh.

Edited to add: I forgot to offer a prize!! Comment below with an inventive explanation of what ‘hesh’ means [look at the guy’s tee-shirt in the photo] and I will choose my favourite explanation and award the winner – um – a paperback copy of Foolish Encounters, an anthology from Wilde City press. It has one of my stories in it, but don’t let that put you off – there are stories from Tinnean, Angel Martinez, Amy Lane, J C Wallace, Tali Spencer and Freddie MacKay. Don’t forget to leave some means by which I can get in touch with you.

Author Name: Jay Northcote

Book Name: Helping Hand  

Release Date: June 26, 2015

Publisher: Jaybird Press

Cover Artist: Garrett Leigh

Pages or Words:  Approximately 33,000 words 

Categories: Contemporary, Romance


Wanking with a mate isn’t gay—as long as you keep your hands to yourself.

Jez Fielding and James MacKenzie—Big Mac to his mates—are in their second year at uni. After partying too hard last year, they make a pact to rein themselves in. While their housemates are out drinking every weekend, Jez and Mac stay in to save cash and focus on their studies.

When Jez suggests watching some porn together, he isn’t expecting Mac to agree to it. One thing leads to another, and soon their arrangement becomes hands-on rather than hands-off. But falling for your straight friend can only end badly, unless there’s a chance he might feel the same.

Buy Links:
Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon Canada | Amazon Germany
All Romance Ebooks | Smashwords


Afterwards, Jez blamed the alcohol for loosening his tongue, because he didn’t think about it before he spoke. The words tumbled out before he could stop them.

“Man, I’m seriously horny now. Have you got any decent porn on that laptop?”

“Huh?” Mac snapped his head around to meet Jez’s gaze. Jez’s heart pounded erratically, but his dick was still standing to attention. “What… you mean, you want to wank in here? Now? Wouldn’t that be weird?” Mac sounded seriously freaked out.

Jez backtracked quickly, cheeks hot. “It doesn’t have to be weird. I’ve done it before with guys at school, and it’s never been a big deal. But don’t worry about it. I’ll go and watch my own stash instead. But I need something soon, ’cause I’m gonna explode after watching that sex scene.”

Jez was expecting an instant no from Mac. He wouldn’t have blamed him. A lot of guys wouldn’t be into what Jez was suggesting. Jez’s heart still thumped hard, but his arousal didn’t abate despite his anxiety. He was shocked by how much he wanted this.

Mac bit his lip and frowned. “Seriously. You’ve done that?”

Jez shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “Yeah. Like I said, it was no big deal. Just guys messing around.”

Mac stared a moment longer, then he stood, and Jez’s heart sank as he walked away. But Mac only went to fetch his laptop from the dining table. He sat back down and then opened it and tapped in his password.

“What sort of stuff do you wanna watch?” Mac’s voice was gruff and he focused on the screen rather than Jez.

Fuck. They were really going to do this, then.


Sales Links: not yet available but watch the author’s website.

 About the author:

Jay lives just outside Bristol in the West of England, with her husband, two children, and two cats.

She comes from a family of writers, but she always used to believe that the gene for fiction writing had passed her by. She spent years only ever writing emails, articles, or website content. One day, she decided to try and write a short story–just to see if she could–and found it rather addictive. She hasn’t stopped writing since.

Where to find the author:

www.jaynorthcote.com | Twitter | Facebook profile | Facebook Author Page | Jay’s books

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7302303.Jay_Northcote

Tour Dates & Stops: June 26, 2015

Parker Williams, BFD Book Blog, Bayou Book Junkie, Elisa – My Reviews and Ramblings, My Fiction Nook, Prism Book Alliance, Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words, Inked Rainbow Reads, Havan Fellows, Cate Ashwood, Two Chicks Obsessed With Books and Eye Candy, Charley Descoteaux, Chris McHart, Happily Ever Chapter, Boys on the Brink Reviews, Molly Lolly, Rainbow Gold Reviews, Nic Starr, Elin Gregory, Dawn’s Reading Nook, Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents, MM Good Book Reviews, Wake Up Your Wild Side, Hearts on Fire, 3 Chicks After Dark, Carly’s Book Reviews, Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews, Iyana Jenna, Divine Magazine, Mikky’s World of Books, Foxylutely Book Reviews, Velvet Panic, The Hat Party, Andrew Q. Gordon

Don’t forget to enter the contest for a chance to win a prize: $10 Amazon card + backlist book of choice. CLICK HERE TO ENTER the Rafflecopter giveaway or click on the graphic below.

Author Name: Charley Descoteaux

Book Name: The Pinch of the Game

Release Date: June 24, 2015

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Cover Artist: AngstyG

Pages or Words:

Categories: Contemporary,
Gay fictions, M/M Romance,
Mystery, Paranormal, Romance

The Pinch Of The Game


Being a witch doesn’t mean one can beat the devil forever.

Jeffrey Overton, unemployed IT professional turned poker player, pushes his luck once too often and runs afoul of the host of an illegal card club. The man sent to escort Jeffrey to a “meeting” about his supernatural winning streak arrives at Jeffrey’s crappy North Portland apartment, lock-picking tools in hand and a charm to block Jeffrey’s magick.

Head muscle for said host, Mike Wells, is a Daisy from Daisyville. He isn’t a witch. What he lacks in magickal talent he makes up for in brawn, so he doesn’t expect the guy he’s after to overpower him. But once Mike renders Jeffrey helpless, he’d rather seduce him than bring him in.

Jeffrey and Michael ditch the “meeting” and end up hunting some of the same people they ran from, trying to get Jeffrey back into his own body. And that’s only part of the adventure. The pair travel halfway across the country on the quietest road trip in history and find missing people, empire-building witches, and maybe even the families they’d both thought lost to them.


If Sal had sent someone after me, a short trip up to Seattle might be a good idea, maybe even BC. That called for some new clothes, so I grabbed my battered gym bag—my quick escape kit—and was almost home free when the kitchen door burst open. It would’ve been dumb to turn off the light when the goomba first went to work on the lock—I can’t see any better in the dark than your average Daisy, not when I’m blocked. Once that massive body filled the doorway, I wished I had. Wished I’d done something.
He hesitated, barely a moment, and I bolted for the front door. He grabbed me before I made it out of the kitchen and pinned both of my arms to my sides. It wouldn’t work, I knew that, but I still tried to burn his hands. All I needed was enough time to—fuck, is he laughing?
“Give it up, pretty boy. You’re blocked.”
The big man pushed me against the wall face-first and pulled both hands behind my back.
“Hey, wait a sec, big guy. Let’s talk about this. I can—”
He pushed me flat against the wall, and the rest of that sentence disappeared in the rush of air he squeezed from my lungs. I couldn’t help being turned on, even though pain and domination usually aren’t my thing. Neither are bears, but underneath the padding he felt nice and solid, leaning full against me. He tightened a plastic zip tie around my wrists with shaking hands. And then he held me there.

Sales Links: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=6421

About the author:

Charley Descoteaux has always heard voices. She was relieved to learn they were fictional characters, and started writing when they insisted daydreaming just wasn’t good enough. In exchange, they’ve agreed to let her sleep once in a while. Charley grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area during a drought, and found her true home in the soggy Pacific Northwest. She has survived earthquakes, tornadoes, and floods, but couldn’t make it through one day without stories.

Where to find the author:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/charley.descoteaux.3
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/CharleyDescoteauxAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/CharleyDescote
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/charleydescote/
Blog: http://cdescoteauxwrites.com/blog/
Goodreads: http://tinyurl.com/aqe7g7r
Email: c.descoteauxwrites@gmail.com

Book Name: Shadows Fall
Author Name: J.K. Hogan
Release Date: June, 2015
Categories: Contemporary, Crime Fiction, Fiction, Gay Fiction, Romance, Thriller
Pages or Words: 100,000 words (pre-edits)
Publisher: Wilde City Press
Cover Artist: J.K. Hogan


Author interview:

Today I’m very lucky to be interviewing J.K. Hogan, author of Shadows Fall.

Hi J.K., thank you for agreeing to this interview. Tell us a little about yourself, your background, and your current book.


Hey, there! IRL I’m a pretty normal gal, wife and mother and fur-mommy. I stay at home with my son and alternate between writing and graphic design.

            I started out writing m/f paranormal romance—I have a series of three books if anyone is so inclined—but I started writing exclusively m/m in the last couple of years. I just have more fun doing it.

            My new release, Shadows Fall, is one I’m super excited about. It’s my first true thriller and I’m in love with the subgenre. This book has so many different elements, it was almost impossible to categorize—crime drama, police procedural, a paranormal element, a tiny bit of sci-fi, and of course, romance. I’m always my biggest critic, but I think it will keep you on the edge of your seats!

Describe your favorite rainy day activity.

Hmm, well I’m a pretty boring girl when I’m not writing. I like to curl up with my kindle and read, or work on some of my artwork. I’m big on taking the time to relax when I can, because between the writing, graphic design, and a toddler, my life gets pretty busy!

Thank you, J K, and I wish you the very best of luck with your new release.


Author Bio:
J.K. Hogan has been telling stories for as long as she can remember, beginning with writing cast lists and storylines for her toys growing up. When she finally decided to put pen to paper, magic happened. She is greatly inspired by all kinds of music and often creates a “soundtrack” for her stories as she writes them. J.K. is hoping to one day have a little something for everyone, so she’s branched out from m/f paranormal romance and added m/m contemporary romance. Who knows what’s next?

J.K. resides in North Carolina, where she was born and raised. A true southern girl at heart, she lives in the country with her husband and young son, a cat, and two champion agility dogs. If she isn’t on the agility field, J.K. can often be found chasing waterfalls in the mountains with her husband, or down in front at a blues concert. In addition to writing, she enjoys training and competing in dog sports, spending time with her large southern family, camping, boating and, of course, reading! For more information, please visitwww.jkhogan.com.

Where to find the author:
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/OfficialJKHogan
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JK_Hogan
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/jkhoganbooks/
Tumblr: http://officialjkhogan.tumblr.com/
Google+: https://plus.google.com/+JKHogan/
Instagram: http://instagram.com/jkhoganbooks

A gift—or curse—gives Titus McGinty the unwanted ability to talk to ghosts. When he starts seeing the same few apparitions repeatedly, appearing with similar gruesome injuries, he begins to wonder what they want from him.

Detective Charlie Hale has a serial killer on his hands. On the loose for weeks, the Queen City Slayer has left the police nothing to go on, no forensic evidence other than what he wants found. The city is running out of time.

The crisis brings Titus and Charlie together—Titus stumbles upon a body and finds himself a suspect. Their budding romance is tested as they are sucked into a web of underground laboratories, restive spirits, and religious fanaticism. They’ll have to work together to find the identity of the killer before he takes his next victim…Titus.

Tour Dates: June 17, 2015

Tour Stops:

Parker Williams, BFD Book Blog, Molly Lolly, Bayou Book Junkie, Love Bytes, Charley Descoteaux, Bike Book Reviews, Inked Rainbow Reads, Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews, Iyana Jenna, Cate Ashwood, Romance the Night, Rainbow Gold Reviews, Wake Up Your Wild Side, Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words, Book Reviews and More by Kathy, Divine Magazine, Havan Fellows, Kimi-Chan, Hearts on Fire, Carly’s Book Reviews, MM Good Book Reviews, 3 Chicks After Dark, Fallen Angel Reviews, Amanda C. Stone, Andrew Q. Gordon, The Hat Party, Elin Gregory, Nephylim, Velvet Panic

Rafflecopter Prize: A ecopy of Shadows Fall – Click Here to Enter



comfy chair

My guest today is new-to-me author Rodd Clark whose latest novel Rubble and the Wreckage has one of the most startling covers I’ve ever seen. A huge fan of the edgier type of crime fiction, Rodd has given the genre his own particular twist.

Welcome, Rodd and thank you for answering my questions.


What are you reading? Can you recommend something that you wished you’d written yourself?

I have less time to read now than I’d prefer but there are great stories out there I wished I could have penned myself, such as the wonderfully written “The Gaslight Mysteries” by Erin O’Quinn.  She seems to revel in the bawdy adventure I’d love to call my own.  And I enjoy coming across great writers like Allen Renfro and Lee Thomas.  But the genres I relish are simply exploding with great talent these days.  And it is because of those guys that I feel myself bolster with pride whenever I call myself a writer.

In that crucial inspiration stage of a new story which comes first? Plot, situation or character?

Plot is imperative with every novel, but without the proper character build-up, nothing else really matters.  You have to have heroes which readers want to root for and villains that make you cringe in terror.  But it is nice to know that every single one of us could find ourselves inside situations that we never thought possible.  And that is what makes the story interesting for me.

Do your characters arrive fully fledged and ready to fly or do they develop as you work with them? Do you have a crisp mental picture of them or are they more a thought and a feeling than an image? 

     Excellent question, in my first mystery series I birthed a main character who I thought I’d enjoy exploring to the limit and his name was Brantley Colton.  I enjoyed him enough to carry his story throughout three books.   And at the time I suspected he was the epitome of that perfectly flawed, anti-hero type I wanted to delve into.  But that was before the creation of Gabriel Church, and the books which will expose his life and trials.  Now I fully understand what a twisted, anti-hero is, from meeting him face to face in my writings.  And though I suppose my attraction to the morally ambiguous, and bent and corrupted characters may be obvious to some, I have to confess the seed always existed somewhere.  It just required a good watering.

Is there any genre you would love to write, ditto one you would avoid like a rattlesnake? What inspired you to write about serial killers?

I have to wonder about anyone who writes about serial killers, but I have to admit to having an interest in the subject from an earlier project and became fascinated with how it speaks to the dark, untapped recesses in those readers I wish to call my fans.  In my latest book, “Rubble and the Wreckage”, there was no shortage of morality questions to address and I liked when it left some questioning their own belief-system by the simple examination of it.  On the other hand, there are genres I steer clear of, such as hardcore erotica.  I profess to only knowing a few ways of describing the male genitalia and the word “Turgid” is heavily over-rated and borders on comical inaccuracy.  It is a phrase which sends shivers racing down my spine, and not in a good way.

I can't say it does much for me either

I can’t say it does much for me either

Do you find there to be a lot of structural differences between a relationship driven story and one where the romance is a sub plot? 

I can only speak to the character driven stories I write myself, but I’m always searching for that glittery vein I can mine with hopes I am guaranteed even the smallest modicum of a return.  One I can then share with my readers during our journey together.  But honestly I feel that romance should be propelled forward because of the relationship, and not just the heat of the moment.  Anything less for me and it displays like some sad sexual tryst, void of any substance or love and where the only gifts remaining are the discarded twenties lying in wait on the nightstand.

Put together your ideal team of men/women drawing from all and any walks of life, fictional or non-fictional who you would want to come to your rescue if menaced by muggers/alligators/fundamentalists?

Now this is a truly entertaining question, and I’d have to say that I would call upon one of the characters from one of my books.  Reason being; they wouldn’t be afraid to make the hard choices and wouldn’t consider the legal or moral ramifications to pushing back against my aggressors, or tangling toe-to-toe with them if the situation required it.  We all know that you don’t call a boy scout when facing down a tough opponent.  You call someone like Gabriel Church or Brantley Colton, and then hope they’re willing and able to skirmish on your behalf.

Villains are incredibly important in fiction since they challenge the main protagonists and give them something to contend with beyond the tension of a developing relationship. The cruel sea. The serial killer. The society itself. Your hero’s inner demons. What sort of villains do you prize?

          There is very little black and white in my world of fiction and I rarely see anyone truly villainous.  But with that being said, some of my characters admittedly have dark hearts.  Few are shown as anything close to being pristine or possessing that angelic quality.  Sadly all of them are mere branches originating from my own crooked tree, and for me that’s because anyone worth spending the time necessary to write about, is almost always going to be a tad complex or mentally and morally strained…possibly even being pockmarked from some hideously tragic birth.  Because the fun for me is delving deep enough to fully see the scars.

What are you working on at the moment? Can you discuss it or do you prefer to keep it a secret until it’s finished.

Currently I am in the middle of editing the sequel to “Rubble and the Wreckage”, which is titled “Behold a Pale Rider”.  I hope to see its release later in the year and it should uncover more of the complex relationships between my anti-hero protagonist Gabriel Church, and the intriguing yet oddly relatable, Christian Maxwell.  I am also hard at work on the third, and dare I say it, the final chapter in the twisted tale of death and affection which has become the stories occupying my brain of late.  Sorry to say though readers will have to wait to see how that tale finally unfolds.

 Could we please have an excerpt of something?

Rubble and the Wreckage

“Tell me your story.” Christian Maxwell began, wetting his lips and leaning in. He stared at the killer across the table and rested his forearms on the notepad before him. His look was imploring, he was begging for good and gory details.

Gabe stared at him glassy eyed and with anticipation. He was all but squinting with excitement, of all that was to follow. He had a somewhat wanting expression on his face. Gabe had seen that look many times before. “Better the devil you barely know.” Gabe thought. “If someone else’s gonna be making money off my story it might as well be this guy.” He remembered the first time the thought of telling his story had first sprung to mind. The memories of it much like this, detached, more after-thought than close consideration.

“Ever been out to the Florida Keys?” Gabe asked. When he only received a nod from Maxwell to his question he continued absently, “For me it was like driving to the keys, a few miles over the speed limit on that old Highway One…you know, the one they called Highway out to Sea…under fleecy clouds with that fresh coastal winds slapping you in your face, under a vast, unending blue on blue…it is rather freeing.” His hands wrapped around the old dusty cover of the book he was holding, more as an effect than something to read.

Christian listened to him speaking with that far-away gaze in his eyes, knowing he was already back there in his mind. He pretended to jot notes down but concentrated more on that distant expression on Church’s face. Sitting so close to him, he could almost feel the wind slapping his hair, the sun beating down as he rode in the passenger seat of Church’s mental trip along Highway 1. He knew it was going to be a good book when he finished it.

He didn’t want to interrupt the narrator but he couldn’t resist,

“But it didn’t begin in Florida did it? I just presumed it happened elsewhere.”

The killer’s posture changed as he replied. He sat up straight in the chair, his eyes narrowed, “If you think you know where it started then why are we sitting around hashing old news?” The killer’s voice was cold. Dampness built under Christian’s armpits.

“Because no one has ever asked you for your side of it, usually a serial murderer doesn’t get a chance to explain why he kills. But I…” pointing to his own chest, “…I want to give you that opportunity.”

“Well that’s mighty big of you.” Gabe leaned back in his chair and smiled a grin that could cut through glass, his mocking words and expressive eyes said it all: this might just prove to be an interesting way to spend his free time. He rubbed his rough forefinger across the lip of the wine glass as a carnal abstraction as he watched Maxwell jot his notes, even though they hadn’t even begun his tale.

“Shouldn’t you wait till I start to speak before you scribble down all those pretty words?”

Christian looked up and smiled sheepishly, “…just mood stuff. You’ll have to get used to that…meaning my process, early on.” He put his pen down and folded his hands neatly to hide his notes. “I’m a little fastidious or obsessive at times.”

“No worries”, he said nodding, “The same has been said of me.”

That bent smile of a killer reappeared and twisted Church’s face into a mocking evil caricature, sending a shiver down Christian’s spine. He smiled back and returned a look that seemed to place them on equal understanding. ‘This was going to be tough’, he thought, ‘but worth it.’ Christian picked up his pen and sent an imploring gaze at his subject of study.

Gabe recognized the untidy anticipation, and reluctantly continued. “Actually it began in Texas…but we need to go back to where the…umm, desires, I guess is the word…first came into clear focus don’t we? I mean you want the full picture don’t you?”

When the man didn’t offer a conciliatory gesture, Gabe continued.

“Before Florida, before Seattle I had been somewhere else… it was a better place for me, because it still held some type of promise, nothing had been carved into stone…if you’ll pardon the pun.” Church’s head lolled back as if he was about to break into a hearty laugh.

He was a dangerous sick man Christian could see that. His reference to the markers of his varied victims, as his nonchalant manner in describing his affinity to murder was unsettling, even for someone as akin to pathology as Christian Maxwell.

In college, his dark sense of humor and an uncomfortably quiet nature was off-putting to most. His so-called friends would jokingly offer that it was going to be Christian who would be famous, but more for the salvo of bullets which hit other students from his safe vantage in some random clock tower or rooftop. The look on Maxwell’s face as he sat across from Gabe was pensive as if he was about to interrupt again but questioned the insolence. The killer had nothing but time, but he didn’t like breaking his train of thought so early.


 Rubble and the Wreckage 

by Rodd Clark


Gabriel Church knows you can’t take a life without first understanding just how feeble life is, how tentative and weak it stands alone. If you desire murder, you hold a life in your hand. Whether you release it to grant life or grip tighter to end it, it is at your command and discretion.

Gabriel is a serial killer with a story he wants told.

Christian Maxwell studied abnormal psychology in college but chose instead to focus on a career in writing. His background comes in handy when he thinks of writing about a serial killer. He can’t think of anyone more qualified to write the story of Gabriel Lee Church, and do so in the murderer’s own words. It’s been done before, but never with a killer who has yet to be captured or convicted.

There was never anything more than a gentleman’s understanding between the two men that Christian would record Gabriel’s life story. The killer did not ask for his complicity in any crimes, nor did he ever ask for his silence. Christian’s interest in the man, though, is fast becoming something more than academic. When the writer and his subject become unexpected friends and then lovers, the question remains: What is Gabriel’s endgame . . . and why does he want his story told?

Buy Links

Driven Press ~ Amazon US ~ Amazon UK
B&N ~ Google Play ~ Kobo ~ Smashwords

You can follow Rodd at these sites:


Twitter: https://twitter.com/RODDCLARK

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/rodd.clark.96

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7741007.Rodd_Clark
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Rodd-

d9af7-disappearwithme2bfull2bsizI am happy to announce that the Second Edition of Disappear With Me is available from Amber Quill Press!


Love is greater than hope or faith, but can Reverend Leander Norris convince a jury that the love he shares with another man is natural?

In 1910, the United Kingdom was in turmoil. King Edward died after only nine years on the throne. The social class system that upheld British society for centuries was being chipped away by social, political, and economic unrest across the Commonwealth. Amidst this backdrop, Reverend Leander Norris is accused of sodomy. After discovering his own self-worth and unconditional love, Leander finds the courage to stand up for what he believes is right and pleads not guilty to the charges. Throughout the trial, Leander’s past is revealed, including the temptations that bring the accusations against him. By the end of the trail, Leander is once again reunited with a romantic interest from the past, but it may be too late to rekindle any love that might remain, given the circumstances of the era and Leander’s likely sentence.


“Are you not a scholar?” Weeks asked. “Do you not know the Bible that you preach from each Sunday?”

“I know it very well,” Leander answered. “But the Bible has many interpretations. I think you can guess that mine might be a little less than conventional.”

Weeks reclined back in his chair. He made a steeple with his fingers and rested them on his pursed lips. “You’re actually sitting here telling me that, as a man of God, you’re all right with buggery and feel you’ve done nothing wrong?”

“Mr. Weeks, do you realize you keep asking me the same question over again, using different words?”

“As your counsel, I need to be sure that I understand your position, the one you expect me to defend.”

“You sound shocked that I would suggest such a thing. I can’t have you defending me if you don’t believe it yourself.”

“Reverend, my beliefs about the situation are irrelevant; it doesn’t matter what I believe. I need to be able to defend our position in court and hope our defense can refute what the prosecution will present.”

“I have to have conviction in my sermons each Sunday morning. I think you also know you need to have conviction when defending your clients.”

“And I can assure you that I have that same conviction to make sure that you receive a fair trial. I will do my best—”

“Do your best to what? Go through the motions and make sure that the I’s are dotted and the T’s are crossed so it looks like I’ve been given a good defense?”

Weeks didn’t answer and that was all the answer that Leander needed. After a moment, Weeks tried to start again. “Look, Reverend, I am your assigned counsel for this trial. I am on your side. I want to see you get a fair trial, but you must understand what we’re up against is quite overwhelming.”

“I know; I’ve never done anything the simple way.”

“Sir, you must understand that we are going up against laws that are rooted in two thousand years of Christian tradition and about as many years of British attitude.”

“Mr. Weeks, do you love your wife?”

Weeks let out an impatient sigh. “Of course, but here you go asking intimate questions about me that have no bearing on my defending your case.”

“Humor me, sir. Do you love your wife?”

“Yes, I very much love my wife and family.”

“What if you woke up tomorrow and a constable showed up on your doorstep and arrested you because they said the love you share with your wife was illegal?”

Weeks didn’t answer him. Instead, in a quiet voice, he said, “You know you and I are just two people. We’re not going to change these laws overnight.”

Buy Links:

Amber Quill Press

All Romance eBooks


Search “Disappear With Me” or “Dean Pace-Frech” on your other favorite sites to purchase romance books, Amazon, Barnes and Nobles, iTunes, etc.

About Dean Pace-Frech

New bw headshotWith inspiration from historical tourism sites, the love of reading, and a desire to write a novel, Dean started crafting his debut novel, A Place to Call Their Own, in 2008. After four years of writing and polishing the manuscript, it was accepted and originally published 2013. His second novel, Disappear With Me, set in Edwardian England was published later that same year. Both novels were re-released in May 2015.

Dean lives in Kansas City, Missouri with his husband, Thomas (legally as of February 14, 2015), and our two cats. They are involved in their church and enjoy watching movies, outdoor activities in the warmer weather and spending time together with friends and family. In addition to writing, Dean’s hobbies include reading and patio gardening.

Dean is currently working a standalone title, Need Your Love, set in 1966, and The Higher Law, a continuation of the story of Frank and Gregory’s family set in the 1930s.

Connect with Dean Pace-Frech

Email deanfrech@aol.com

Blog:  Dean’s Web Site

Facebook:  Dean Pace-Frech, Author page or send a friend request Dean Pace-Frech.

Twitter: @deanpacefrech

Google+: +deanpacefrech

Goodreads: Dean Pace-Frech

Pinterest:  Dean Pace-Frech



In celebration of the wide release of Disappear With Me, I will be giving away 3 Ecopies of my first novel, A Place to Call Their Own, which is available from JMS Books.  Comment, follow me on Twitter, visit my author page, etc. to enter.

Click here to enter this Rafflecopter giveaway.




BT Banner

About the Book

Title: Letters From A Cowboy

Series: Morning Report

Author: Sue Brown

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Cover Artist: Garrett Leigh

Length: 154 Pages

Release Date: 10 June, 2015

Blurb: A Morning Report Story

Simon Wood arrives at Tamar Ranch looking for a job after being fired from his last position for seducing the boss’s son. It doesn’t take much for him to prove his skills with horses, so he’s taken on, but soon he clashes hard with Chip Henson.

The animosity between them hides something very different, but not for long. No matter how hard they try to resist their attraction, eventually they give in to their need. They start leaving notes for each other, and others notice and warn them to be more careful.

Fearful of discovery, Simon leaves Tamar Ranch to save Chip’s job. When he learns that his departure sent Chip off the rails, he knows he needs to risk everything and go back for him.


HE WAITED an hour by the mill before Chip showed. The cowboy slid off his horse and into Simon’s waiting arms, his hat tumbling off his head as Simon held on to him tightly. Simon pulled him into the shadow of the mill, pleased that he could finally bury his chilly face in Chip’s neck, his nostrils full of the strong, rich scent of his man.

LettersfromaCowboyLG“I thought you weren’t coming,” he managed eventually. “Didn’t know if you’d get my note.”

“I nearly didn’t,” Chip said. “Lorne and Brad were waiting for me with rifles before I left.”

“How did you get away?”

“Lofty and I jumped them and knocked ’em both out before they could shoot me.”

Chip shuddered with the emotion, and Simon hung on even tighter, aware of just how close he’d come to losing him.

“I love you, Henson,” Simon said gruffly, feeling Chip dig his fingers almost painfully into Simon’s back. Simon relished the pain. It reminded him they were both still alive.

“Love you too, Woody.”

Simon huffed into Chip’s neck at the nickname. “Next time we go together.”

Chip pulled back to look at him. “Don’t be stupid. We can’t take that risk.”

“I’m not leaving you again,” Simon insisted stubbornly.

Chip stepped back and slid his hands down Simon’s shoulders to grasp him around the upper arms. “Don’t, Simon. You know we can’t risk anyone finding out about us. I only just escaped this time. Next time it could be you, and I can’t have that.”

Simon stared at Chip, seeing the lines around his brown eyes, carved deeper into Chip’s face in the year he’d known him. “And I’m not gonna to spend my life wondering if you’re goin’ to turn up. We can’t be together as lovers, but we can be together as friends.”

“What are you saying?”

“If keeping us safe means we stop fucking, then….”

Chip pressed his lips together, then gave a short nod. “Friends.”

Simon went to step away, but somehow he ended up with his mouth mashed against Chip’s, his hands tangled in Chip’s hair, and Chip’s erection a rigid line pressing into his hip.

The throaty noises Chip made as they kissed just ramped up his excitement.

Simon growled deep in his throat and pushed Chip against the mill wall. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much.”

“Missed you too.” Chip hauled Simon down to kiss him again.

“No lube,” Simon groaned.

“Ya got spit.” Chip’s hands were busy at Simon’s flies.

“It’s gonna hurt.” Simon was just as busy, dragging Chip’s jeans down his legs.

“Don’t care, not now. Just want you.” Chip turned in Simon’s arms and placed his hands against the rough wall.

Simon pulled Chip’s ass toward him, bare and beautiful, and all his. He ran his work-roughened hand over the tight asscheek. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Chip laughed roughly. “You need to see the doc, Woody. I ain’t beautiful.”

“You are to me. You’ll always be more beautiful than any of them painted whores in the Drink.”

“Thanks, I think.” Chip gasped as Simon spat on his fingers. “Hurry.”

Simon held Chip’s shoulder and slowly worked his fingers into Chip’s ass. “Just you wait. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He withdrew his fingers and spat on them again. He worked Chip until he was as prepared as he could get him.

Chip smacked the wall as Simon pushed in.

God, he was so tight. Simon wanted to ram in until he couldn’t go any farther, but he wouldn’t hurt Chip. “Too much?”

“Faster,” Chip gritted out. “I’m not gonna break.”

Chip might not, but Simon felt he was about to fly apart at the seams. He sank into Chip’s heat until he could rest against Chip’s back. He breathed across Chip’s ear, feeling the man shiver.

“Don’t let me go,” Chip whispered.

Simon held him tighter. “I’m never gonna let you go.”

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

Simon needed to move, but for a moment he just wanted to stay exactly where he was, Chip’s body tight around him and Simon’s senses full of his man.


Buy Links





About the Author

Author picSue Brown is owned by her dog and two children. When she isn’t following their orders, she can be found plotting at her laptop. In fact she hides so she can plot and has gotten expert at ignoring the orders.

Sue discovered M/M erotica at the time she woke up to find two men kissing on her favorite television series. The series was boring; the kissing was not. She may be late to the party, but she’s made up for it since, writing fan fiction until she was brave enough to venture out into the world of original fiction.


Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/suebrownstories

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/SueBrownsStories

Twitter: https://twitter.com/suebrownstories

Google+: https://plus.google.com/+SueBrownstories/

Blog: http://suebrownsstories.blogspot.co.uk/

Website: http://www.suebrownstories.com/

Email ID: suebrown.stories@gmail.com



Why are Brits so obsessed about American cowboys?

We don’t have proper cowboys in the UK. We have men in white vans who offer to repair roofs and lay driveways. Then they charge five times the price for shoddy work. These are our cowboys. Not the same at all. I like yours better.

Why did Simon’s eye colour change several times in Morning Report?

Um, he’s interesting? He’s a robot in disguise? He’s got disco eyes?

Which newspaper do you prefer to read? 

The Times if its in print. Online I pretty much read every newspaper I can find. I love news from local media. If I’m following a news story I’ll go back to the local source because you get a whole different perspective.

When writing, what – other than your laptop – does your muse demand to have around you?

Coffee. Coffee. Coffee. Coffee.

Narrate the weirdest plot that came to your mind.

Um, I wrote it. The Sky is Dead. That’s all I say.



Rafflecopter Giveaway

Get a chance to win two signed paperbacks of ‘Letters From A Cowboy’ or a package of Morning Report stories!

Enter the Rafflecopter NOW.

a Rafflecopter giveaway
Tour Schedule

June 10: Love Bytes Reviews || Up All Night, Read All Day

June 11: Molly Lolly: Reader, Reviewer, Lover of Words || Divine Magazine

June 12: Elin Gregory

June 15: Elisa – My reviews and Ramblings

June 16: Multitasking Mommas Book Reviews || Drops of Ink

June 17: Rainbow Gold Reviews || Man2ManTastic

June 18: Gay.Guy.Reading And Friends || Evelyn Shepherd

June 19: MM Good Book Reviews || Wicked Faeries Tales And Reviews

June 22: Foxylutely Books || BFD Book Blog

June 23: Nessa’s Book Reviews || Diverse Reader

June 24: RJ Scott || Nautical Star Books

June 25: Bayou Book Junkie || Prism Book Alliance

June 26: Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 1,398 other followers