Welcome back to the 5th and final day of our Summer Lovin' LGBTQ Showcase.
There are several rafflecopter contests throughout the five days, so be sure to check-out all four post!
Monday's Word of the Day is : Diversity
Heather C Leigh
About the Author:
I love the Red Sox and hate the Yankees.
I love hot, sexy romance novels, but hate long, drawn out misunderstandings as a plot line.
I love book series, but hate cliffhangers.
I love alpha males, but hate when they borderline on abusive.
Mostly? I love love love chocolate.
Meet Gavin in Heather’s newest M/M standalone romance!
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1GuqFq1
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1CQKs88
All Gavin Walker, bass player for the multi-platinum selling band, Sphere of Irony, wants to do is surf, play music, and occasionally get laid. The problem is that Gavin has a stalker. A potentially deadly one. The threats he receives always mention something about Gavin being gay, which isn't public knowledge since the record label wants to keep it quiet.
Mitch Hale used to track serial killers for the FBI. A live-changing incident led him to quit the bureau and start his own company providing computerized security for Los Angeles' wealthiest people. Mitch doesn't know anyone when he moves across the country from D.C. to California, and all he has for companionship is a pathetic string of failed relationships with women.
When Gavin's manager hires Mitch to find the stalker, the men instantly hate each other. Despite the constant fighting, attraction between the two blazes hot, confusing the former FBI agent. Spending time with Gavin forces Mitch reflect on what he's denied about himself for the last ten years. Listening to Mitch's plan to catch a madman thrusts Gavin's personal life out in the open for the entire world to see.
Can Gavin and Mitch stop fighting long enough to stop a stalker before someone gets hurt? Or will they stubbornly resist the feelings that develop when they're forced to work together?
This is book 3 in a 4 part series. It is a spin-off of the Famous Series. These can be read as standalones.
Excerpt #1 : Gavin Meets Mitch
Before I can ask any more questions, there’s a knock and the door opens a crack. “Mr. Evans, Mr. Hale is here.”
“Send him in please, Donna.” Ross stands and adjusts his suit, straightening out the cuffs and fixing his expensive tie until it lays just so.
I rake a hand over my hair, but it’s pointless. I’m lucky I bothered to shower this morning after my company left. I’m sure I look like shit—with the lack of sleep and the constant stress I’m surprised I don’t look worse.
Good genes, I guess. I frown at the thought of my father.
I can hear Donna outside. “Go right on in.”
The door opens and a man enters. No, not just a man. A gorgeous man. Stunning, actually. For the second time in five minutes, my jaw hangs open.
The man is a study in opposites. His hair, swept back from his face and so dark it’s nearly black, is paired with bright slate grey eyes, a color I’ve never seen before. He looks rugged and dangerous, as if he could kill a man with his bare hands. Yet he’s wearing a tailored and expensive charcoal grey suit that showcases his body to perfection. He’s rough and he’s polished.
And I can’t stop staring.
“Mr. Hale, thank you so much for coming on such short notice.”
Ross has circled the table and is shaking the man’s hand.
“Call me Mitch, please.”
Jesus, even his voice is hot. Deep and silky, it’s as smooth as fine whiskey.
“This is Gavin Walker,” Ross introduces me, stepping aside.
It takes both of them staring at me and an uncomfortably long silence for me to realize I’m still gawking. Embarrassed, I snap my mouth shut.
“Sorry.” Jumping up from my chair, I extend a hand. “Gavin Walker. Thanks for coming.”
He clasps his hand around mine, large and hot and coarse, and pumps it firmly. “Mitch Hale, good to meet you. Wish it were under better circumstances.”
He smiles and I have the sudden urge to rub myself all over his beautiful, hard body. Heat spreads up from our joined hands, sending a flush of pleasure over my skin.
Mitch clears his throat and glances down where I’m still clutching his hand. Shit. I let go, flinching back in humiliation. I jam my hand into the pocket of my jeans, fingering the smooth, heart-shaped stone I keep there.
“Let’s sit.” Ross directs Mitch to the conference table. “Drink?”
Mitch holds up a hand. “I’m good.” I catch the slightest twitch in one of Mitch’s intriguing eyes.
“Okay. Here is the file we have so far.” Ross pushes a folder across the table.
Mitch opens it, scanning the contents. Waiting for him to read about the stalker that’s been harassing me is humiliating, yet it gives me a chance to study the man further. I should resist staring, but I can’t. He’s too gorgeous to ignore.
I flick my gaze over to Ross, who is busy returning emails on his laptop. Good. I don’t want Ross to catch me ogling the new guy. When my eyes land back on Mitch, I have to hold in a groan.
This guy is trying to kill me.
As he flips through the pages in the file—photos, descriptions, police reports—the end of his very wet, very pink tongue pokes out between his lips. Every once in a while, it sneaks back in so he can pull that lush red bottom lip between his teeth, biting on it in concentration.
Jesus. As subtly as I can, I shift on the chair to adjust the semi pressing against my pants.
More contradictions. That tongue, the biting of the lip, both so playful and innocent against the serious image he projects with the suit and the perfectly styled hair and the—I inhale deeply—hint of designer aftershave.
Suddenly, Mitch closes the folder and sits up, folding his hands on top of it. I jerk away, sitting back in my chair instead of leaning halfway over the table like a besotted teenage girl.
“This man is not to be taken lightly,” he cautions, his intelligent gaze traveling back and forth between Ross’ and mine.
Ross closes his laptop, giving Mitch his full attention. “We’re not taking it lightly. Gavin has security with him at all times since the…” Ross glances at me, “the incident in New York.”
“And before that?” Mitch asks. I stare at the hard line of his jaw then drop my eyes down to the curve of his throat where it disappears into the top of his crisp dress shirt. I pray that he doesn’t see the way my hands shake or the heat prickling my face as lust washes over me.
“Before that we weren’t documenting anything we received, just throwing them away. They were mostly letters, gifts…” Ross trails off.
“But no involvement by law enforcement?”
My eyes bounce back and forth between the two men.
Ross sighs. “Not until the New York incident.” When Mitch scowls, a look that makes him look even more dangerous and a hell of a lot sexier, Ross elaborates. “Do you know how many crazy fans are out there? Hell, Adam gets over a hundred bizarre gifts and letters a week. That’s just the strange ones. Plus, keeping this out of the media is important to the record label.”
Mitch nods. “I understand. I’m not judging. I’m just trying to get a feel for what I’ll be dealing with. That includes how long law enforcement has been checking into this guy.”
“Not long,” I whisper, surprised to hear myself speak. I’m used to being discussed as if I’m not in the room. It comes with the job—decisions made for you without your input.
Two sets of eyes focus on me and I feel my cheeks blaze hot. That intense grey stare has me squirming, and this time it’s not from embarrassment. Another rush of heat ripples down my spine. I run my hands through my hair to catch the beads of sweat that have popped up on my temples.
Mitch opens his mouth to say something then snaps it shut. He blinks a few times before speaking. “Tell me how this began, Gavin. What you’ve noticed personally.”
“Shit, how long do you have?” I scoff.
The corner of Mitch’s mouth quirks up. “I have time.” He puts two fingers into the collar of his shirt and tugs gently.
The subtle motion brings images of Mitch tearing off his clothes, sending another wave of sizzling need through me. Nodding, I take a sip of water to cool down the desire inspired by Mitch’s proximity.
Ross’ cell phone rings, startling me. I fumble with the glass, nearly spilling it.
This time, Mitch smiles. My eyes fixate on that mouth as his lips part to reveal two rows of perfect teeth.
“I have to take this,” Ross confesses. He glances over. “You okay to do this without me?”
No. I’m not okay. You’re going to leave me in a room with one of the hottest guys I’ve ever seen while I’m a nervous, blundering wreck.
That’s what I’m thinking. What I say isn’t even close.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
Ross stares at Mitch. “I’ll be back to discuss the specifics of your contract.”
“No problem,” Mitch agrees. Leaning back in his chair, he crosses one ankle over his knee.
Now he’s given me a direct view of his crotch, hugged tight by those tailored grey slacks. There’s a lot to look at. Jesus. If what I’m seeing isn’t an illusion, he is hung. I don’t realize that I’m staring right at Mitch’s dick until his leg drops and he leans forward, elbows on his knees.
“It’s okay to be nervous.”
Blinking, I look up to see those deep gunmetal eyes waiting patiently for me to respond.
“Ummmm, I’m not nervous.”
I am, but not for the reasons you think.
Mitch puts his large hands back up on the table, his eye twitching again. “Do you mind if I get a drink?” He gestures towards the tray Donna set out.
“Not at all.”
“So,” he continues as he removes his jacket, hangs it over his chair, and circles the table. “Tell me about the letters.”
Mitch picks up a mug, turning his back to me to prepare his coffee. My mouth goes dry at the sight of his perfect, round ass showcased by the tight grey fabric that clings to every curve.
I can’t do this here with him. Alone. With that ass, those eyes, and the scent of whatever cologne he’s wearing. My brain won’t function properly while bombarded from all sides by filthy sexual fantasies starring Mitch.
“I-I forgot. I have somewhere to be.”
Jumping up, I catch a surprised expression on Mitch’s face right before I bolt out the door.
Mitch dresses down for Gavin’s public appearance.
I catch the tail end of Gavin’s conversation and come down the stairs in time to see him hang up his phone.
“I need to discuss something with you in the car,” I mention as I hit the bottom step.
Gavin whirls around and chokes at the sight of me. His eyes bug out of his head like a cartoon character and his mouth drops open. Then… he bursts into laughter. The little shit. Honest to god, full belly, tears-in-his-eyes laughter.
“What?” I snap. If he hadn’t started laughing I would have sworn I saw desire on his face when I came down the stairs. Hell, his tongue practically rolled out of his mouth.
“W-what on earth? I-I mean…” The laughter continues.
I cross my arms and scowl, waiting for him to stop acting like a brat. “Are you done?”
Gavin wipes his eyes. “I don’t know, Mitch. What the hell?” He points at me, waving his hand up and down my body. “What are you wearing?”
I scoff. “We’re going to be late. Can I catch you up in the car?” Annoyed at the fact that Gavin is still giggling like a schoolgirl, I snatch my keys off the foyer table and stomp outside to wait on the front step.
“Oh god,” he whispers in a husky voice as he follows behind me.
“What?” I yell, whirling around until we’re nose to nose. I know I’m being unprofessional, but I can’t help myself. He’s being such a dick. “Am I too embarrassing to be seen with? Am I not good enough for the perfect Gavin Walker?”
“No!” Gavin responds to my accusations, holding up a hand to keep me from crashing into him.
I pull back, still furious. “I need to lock the door,” I snarl.
“Jesus, Mitch. What the fuck?” Gavin backs away from the door, heading towards the car.
I shouldn’t care what he thinks. This is work.
After locking up and pulling the car out of the driveway, I feel like the world’s biggest jerk.
“Sorry for yelling,” I say at the same time Gavin mumbles, “Sorry for laughing.”
“Christ,” I chuckle. “Aren’t we a pair?”
“Yeah,” he agrees. “So,” I can see Gavin check out my clothing again from the corner of my eye. “What is with the outfit?”
“Is it that bad?” I ask, biting my bottom lip as I glance over at all six feet plus of beautiful blonde man reclining in the passenger seat.
“No! Not at all. I’m just not used to seeing you like…this,” he says, waving his hand at my clothes again.
Here we go again. I’m getting all offended. And why? Because he doesn’t like my clothes? Why the hell do I care?
Gavin lets out a long, tortured breath. “All sexy, okay? Shit.” He looks out the side window, hiding his face. I see a crimson blush spread over the one visible cheek and ear.
“Oh.” I grin. “So I’m sexy?” I tease. That explains his mixed reaction.
Gavin barks out a laugh, still staring out the passenger window. “Yeah, like you don’t know that.”
He thinks I’m sexy? For some reason that has me inherently pleased. More pleased than I should be but hell, it’s not everyday you get your ego stroked by a rock star. A gorgeous one at that.
Aaaaand, I shove that right back into the nifty little space in my brain that’s storing up all the thoughts I want to deny ever having.
It’s getting crowded in there.
I clear my throat. “Honestly, the outfit is because I just couldn’t bear the thought of even one more day in a damn suit and tie.” I shudder. Gavin tilts his head in my direction. He’s listening, so I continue. “I felt like I was choking to death. It was too much like being back at the bureau. I just…Let’s just say I didn’t want any reminders of my time there, okay?”
“What does that mean, then? If you aren’t my bodyguard, and you aren’t management, who are you?” Gavin asks.
I force a grin on my face, feeling like I might just twitch right out of my skin. Gavin might not be pleased with my solution.
“I’m your date.”
Incite (Book One) The Sphere of Irony Series
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1dNhavT
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1GTREwg
Google Play: http://bit.ly/1ImHM3N
Strike (Book Two) The Sphere of Irony Series
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1HaMtNW
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1HaMTE2
Heather C Leigh is hosting her own giveaway contest.
Share Link: https://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/share-code/Yjc2ODA2YjgyNzdjMWU2MmI2NjU3MmZjM2JjM2NhOjY=/
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Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women's Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes.
Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk .
Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9
M/M Erotic Romance
by Lucy Felthouse
#erotica #romance #military #interracial
Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/native-tongue/
They may be back on British soil, but the battle isn’t over.
When Captain Hugh Wilkes fell for his Afghan interpreter, Rustam Balkhi, he always knew things would never be easy. After months of complete secrecy, their return to England should have spelt an end to the sneaking around and the insane risks. But it seems there are many obstacles for them to overcome before they can truly be happy together. Can they get past those obstacles, or is this one battle too many for their fledgling relationship?
Author’s note: Although this story does work as a standalone tale, it’s recommended that you read the first installment of the characters’ journey first—Desert Heat, which is available from all good retailers.
**For those of you that haven’t yet read Desert Heat either, there’s a great value double pack containing both books available exclusively on Amazon, which is available for lending, and for Kindle Unlimited members: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/desert-heat-native-tongue/ **
Captain Hugh Wilkes drummed enthusiastically on the steering wheel of his car as he drove it up the M3 towards London. He sung loudly and tunelessly along to the song on the radio, too, but it didn’t matter. No one could hear him.
He’d surprised himself by being so chilled out about the volume of Friday evening traffic. He wasn’t the most patient of people, so the slow progress should probably have been increasing his blood pressure, if not leading to full on road rage. But, although he’d have loved to be actually achieving the speed limit, not bumbling along at a mere fifty miles per hour, Wilkes was just glad the traffic was moving at all. Britain’s roads, the motorways in particular, soon came to a standstill if there was so much as a tiny bump between two vehicles. So any progress was better than none.
Besides, what could he do about it? His only other options to get to London from his base in Wiltshire were a train, or stealing a plane, helicopter or tank. The latter might just cause a little bit of bother, and mean the end of his army career, not to mention criminal charges. The former meant cramming in amongst sweaty, disgruntled commuters. If that wasn’t bad enough, he’d be charged an extortionate amount to do so, probably wouldn’t even get a seat, and would likely be subjected to delays.
At least driving took him from door to door, with plenty of personal space. And if there were delays, well, he could sit them out from the comfort of his own vehicle, with the climate control set to the perfect temperature, and the radio blasting some of his favourite tunes.
The next song was even better, and Wilkes’ tuneless wailing became more enthusiastic, as did the drumming on the steering wheel. He was in one hell of a good mood, and if he was truthful with himself, he knew it wasn’t just the fact the M3 was moving at a nice pace. It wasn’t the Friday feeling, either. Sure, both of those things were contributing to his happiness, but the main reason he was grinning like a buffoon was the thought of what awaited him in the capital. Or rather, who.
Rustam Balkhi. His gorgeous Afghan boyfriend, whom he’d met out in Afghanistan while they were working together for the British Army. Now, with their tour of duty over and the forces’ presence pulled out of the country, the two men had returned to England. Wilkes had gone back to his regular army life in Bulford Camp, near Salisbury. Balkhi was in London, where he’d recommenced the medical training he’d postponed to become an interpreter for the Brits.
The past few weeks had been somewhat of a whirlwind. Wilkes’ return to the UK had been straightforward, but Balkhi had had to jump through some hoops in order to get back onto his medical course. He’d been willing to start from scratch, but it’d seemed like an awful waste of time, so Wilkes had spoken to his superiors, who’d explained to the university what important work Balkhi had been doing. Fortunately, they’d been persuaded of Balkhi’s commitment and character, and allowed him to pick up where he’d left off. That settled, Balkhi had to pack up, travel back to the UK, find somewhere to live, move in… and all before the start of the next academic term.
Wilkes had felt terrible. His return had taken place a few weeks before Balkhi’s, so although he’d been granted some leave for R&R, he hadn’t been able to either spend it with Balkhi, or to use it help him with his relocation. By the time Balkhi had set foot on British soil, Wilkes was back to work. And, given nobody knew about the two of them, or even that Wilkes was gay, he couldn’t exactly ask for more leave in order to help his boyfriend move into his new flat.
Life had conspired against them ever since, so this was the first opportunity they’d had to see each other since saying goodbye in Afghanistan all those weeks ago. They’d communicated via email, text message and phone calls, but it just wasn’t the same. Especially since they’d gone from seeing each other every single day for the best part of six months to not setting eyes on each other for weeks on end.
Wilkes had struggled terribly in the interim. Life had been tough enough while they were still out in the desert. After weeks and weeks of trying desperately to ignore their growing attraction, they’d finally given in to it. It had been stupid and risky, but, having quickly realised there was more to their attraction than the physical, they’d decided to carry on their relationship in secret while they were in Afghanistan, see how it went, and figure things out once Wilkes’ tour of duty was over. Balkhi had always intended to return to the UK for his studies, so they would, at least, be living in the same country.
Alec John Belle
About the Author
At the age of 16 he wrote his first novel, Before I Break. His hobbies include reading, writing, and obsessing over Pretty Little Liars. He writes about tough topics that many are too afraid to talk about like suicide, homosexuality, self harm, cyberbullying, anxiety disorders, addiction, among other teenage issues, and he often blends these ideas with the paranormal. After recently being picked up by Booktrope publishing, his books are now being republished.
Before I Break
a Contemporary YA LGBTQ novel
When religiously raised Cyril Hayes begins his junior year at East Hill High School, every choice he makes suffers a greater consequence, and while facing challenges of friends, family, and love, learns that hate and intolerance are also a very large part of our world today.
Cyril Hayes is seemingly just like any other male his age. He has the perfect girlfriend, Melissa Summers, his best friend, Jake Rivers, and a lawyer father who brings home enough money to support his family and then some. When Cyril begins his junior year, he doesn't expect his life to spiral out of control when he meets Avery Branson, the new kid in school who has a big secret: he's gay. At first, Cyril doesn't handle this truth well, due to the way he was raised, but as the story progresses, he ventures deep into the reality of homosexuality and begins to accept Avery for who he is.
Not everyone is happy with Cyril's new friend, including Jake, who believes that homosexuality is a sin and is refusing to budge his beliefs. But Avery isn't the only one at East Hill with secrets, and soon a tragedy will strike, knocking Cyril's world completely off balance and leaving a scar on his heart that will change his view of humanity all together.
Alec John Belle is donating a paperback copy of Before I Break
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