Category Archives: Cover Reveal

Cover Reveal

Exclusive Cover Reveal: Silenci by R.M. Sayan

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Silenci cover

In Abadosos, nobody speaks of the werewolves—in fact, nobody speaks at all.

Joaquím is attacked by a werewolf on a full moon in which he foolishly forgets to take shelter. But he lives to see the light of day, mostly unscathed.

Nursed back to health with the help of his friend Zarif and his cousin Remei, he lives on unknowing whether he was bitten or not. But the curse of the lycanthrope proves to be more complex than it appears, and Joaquím begins to doubt not only himself, but those close to him and everything he knows about his hometown. The pressure and paranoia cloud his way, and nobody seems to have answers to his questions.

After all, in Abadosos, nobody speaks.

And here’s the cover, designed by Kirby Crow!

Silenci cover

SILENCI comes out May 1, 2019 from Less Than Three Press. Pre-order now!

And now, an excerpt from chapter 6 of SILENCI: 

The day of the full moon slid in between the villagers of Abadosos and not a word was uttered about it. That was, after all, how Joaquím had gotten into this mess in the first place. All day trading bread and meat for firewood and not a word had been exchanged.

That day, Joaquím felt like he finally recovered his head’s integrity and went into the woods to chop lumber. The strain on his muscles pushed the suffocating feeling of solitude to the back of his concerns, but as he ruffled his hair, he felt that pinch on the back of his head. The wound had closed and the gut dissolved, but he still had business to settle.

He persisted with his day until he returned with a stack of lumber to match his output before the incident. Guillem traded him a basket of bread and Nura a set of teas to help with headaches; the rest gave only suspicious looks and rude refusals. He returned the provisions to Remei’s house and, with his skin crawling from anxiety and his cheeks aching from so many fake smiles, headed for Zarif’s.

Joaquím did not expect to feel this guilty after abandoning him without a word; was that not how things were done in Abadosos? Had he already become attached? Was it too late for him?

When he knocked on Zarif’s door, the sky had already turned the color of the peaches across the lake. It opened by a crack, and a black mane nearly blocked the peeking eye. Zarif’s eyes had always been large, but they became positively round when they landed on Joaquím. “Did you forget again?” he murmured.

“Not this time,” he replied, trying to hide his misplaced smugness. “But we’ve time.”

Joaquím nudged the door open and entered, much to Zarif’s unease. The moor stepped aside and closed the trapdoor that led down to the shelter with his foot. He ran a hand through his hair and refused to meet his eyes, as if he didn’t know which of the many things fluttering inside his head to address first. “I… thought you didn’t want to see me.”

The statement sank into Joaquím’s conscience like a dagger on flesh. “I was taking care of myself and you,” he said, hiding his remorse with a careless smile. “Consider it returning the favor.”

“I don’t understand.” Zarif’s gaze lowered to look at his side. “What is that for?”

Joaquím followed his gaze. He had his axe in hand. “It’s for you.” He held it up with both hands and closed the distance between himself and Zarif, offering it up to him. “If I turn tonight, I…” He took a deep breath and swallowed his guilt. “I want you to kill me.”

R. M. Sayan is a writer, sometimes illustrator, amateur photographer, avid tabletop gamer, studious filmmaker, tattoo aficionado, and a constant work in progress. Often referred to as just ‘Robb’, they can often be found ranting about assorted fandoms on twitter, swooning over their beautiful partner, and being overdramatic. They like to dabble in many genres, from historical fiction to urban fantasy, from dystopian sci-fi to weird west, but always sneaking queerness somewhere in there.

Cover Reveal

Exclusive Cover Reveal: Team Phison Forever by Chasia Lloyd!

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Hey, remember when we did this cover reveal for Team Phison? Well, we’re bringing things full circle here by revealing the cover of its sequel, Team Phison Forever, which releases on May 15! Here’s the sequel’s story:

Tyson Falls is ready to get married. After being disowned by his parents, his adorably grumpy boyfriend has made cautiously optimistic Tyson embrace the concept of family again. Armed with a ring and the newest video game, Tyson has plans for the nerdiest proposal.

Life throws a wrench in Tyson’s plans when he meets someone online during a multiplayer match. Someone that makes him rethink if he’s ready to start a family—the half-sister he never knew he had.

With the harsh reminder of how messy families can be, Tyson plunges headfirst into despair. Phil doesn’t deserve to be dragged into such a terrible bond. As Tyson wades through trauma and tries to push away the concept of family, he keeps turning to the man he loves most—the person who challenges him to redefine family.

And here’s the cover, featuring Phil and Tyson as drawn by the incredible Shelbie Copas!

(Image: a cartoon-style drawing of a gay couple, one of whom is sitting on the floor playing video games, and the other of whom is resting an arm on his head and watching. Both are wearing Santa hats.)

How freaking cute?? And you can preorder it now!

Amazon | Gumroad

Chace Verity (she/they) is publishing queer as heck stories with a strong romantic focus, although friendships and found families are important too. Chace prefers to write fantasy but dabbles in contemporary and historical fiction as well. An American citizen & Canadian permanent resident, Chace will probably never be able to call a gallon of milk a “four-liter.”

 

Cover Reveal, Excerpt

Exclusive Cover + Excerpt Reveal: Their Troublesome Crush by Xan West!

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Today on the site we’re revealing yet another super cute cover by Xan West, this one for Their Troublesome Crush, the contemporary polyam trans m/cis f Romance novella that kicks off the Kink & Showtunes series with its release on April 16, 2019! Here’s the blurb:

In this queer polyamorous m/f romance novella, two metamours realize they have crushes on each other while planning their shared partner’s birthday party together. Ernest, a Jewish autistic demiromantic queer fat trans man submissive, and Nora, a Jewish disabled queer fat femme cis woman switch, have to contend with an age gap, a desire not to mess up their lovely polyamorous dynamic as metamours, the fact that Ernest has never been attracted to a cis person before, and the reality that they are romantically attracted to each other, all while planning their dominant’s birthday party and trying to do a really good job.

Content Warnings are here: https://xanwest.wordpress.com/their-troublesome-crush/

And here’s the cover, illustrated by Hannah Aroni!

(An illustrated cover featuring a fat brunette cane-using woman in a cupcake-printed dress holding hands with a fat redheaded trans man in jeans and an open plaid shirt in front of a bakery display case full of cupcakes.)

Preorder: Gumroad | Amazon

But wait, there’s more! Behold, an excerpt!

Ernest had the best idea for Daddy’s birthday and he couldn’t wait to share it with Nora. When would she get here? He was so excited that his hands were fluttery, and he was bouncing a little. They were going to throw Gideon an amazing birthday party, and Gideon was going to ruffle his hair and call him a good boy, and cup Nora’s cheek and give her that sweet smile he had just for her, and he would tell them both they did a good job. There was nothing better than doing a good job.

Ernest was getting ahead of himself, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. He always got giddy at the beginning of tasks; this was their first joint task doing service for Gideon as metamours, and that was exciting, and Ernest was rather bouncy in general, anyway. Luckily, Nora was more grounded and moved slowly and deliberately, so they would balance each other out, he thought. Ernest had this image in his head, of himself tugging on Daddy’s hand, racing forward, unruly short red curls going every which way, and Nora holding Gideon’s other hand, moving slow and steady, gazing up at him like he hung the moon, her tight dark curls framing her face in a somewhat controlled cloud. Maybe there was a song in that, he thought, the two rhythms dancing around the melody, balancing it. His fingers moved on his thighs, building the rhythms, as his head started to fill with the melody. Then these two women sat right next to him, talking loudly about the bat mitzvah they were planning, and he lost the song altogether. He should have sat in the corner.

Ernest moved to the corner table, which was quieter, thankfully, but he couldn’t get the song back, so he sketched out the idea in his notebook and turned his attention back to the party planning. There were a ton of cupcake shops in NYC, but Nora favored this one on the Lower East Side; they were meeting there so Ernest could try them out. He still wasn’t sure cupcakes were the right choice. They would be perfect for his own birthday, but perhaps Gideon would want something more dignified. He had his eye on a pie shop in Brooklyn. But it made sense to at least try the cupcakes, didn’t it? How could he resist a chance to try cupcakes?

Maybe they should get a half dozen and sample. It would give him a chance to take leftovers home and see what Daddy thought. But he knew Nora was diabetic and that made it thorny to fill the table with cupcakes. What if it was a mean thing to do, since she probably could only have a few bites? At least, that was what she generally did with desserts, when they had gotten them in the past. They always shared so she could have a taste but not mess up her blood sugar. But maybe it wasn’t right for him to not ask just because she was diabetic? He didn’t want to act like he was in charge of her food choices. He thought it through, considering it from a few angles, trying to figure out what would be the most considerate and the least intrusive and the most respectful of her autonomy, his brain filling with these spiraling thoughts that contradicted each other, until he remembered what Jax had said to him once: “People think they are being so caring when they comment on what you eat, when you’re a fat diabetic. They don’t see the way our food choices are constantly scrutinized and judged, the way we’re so often blamed for having diabetes, how we have unhelpful non-consensual help pushed on us all the time. What I really need is to be left alone…unless I ask for information or help.”

Well, that cleared things up. He would do the sampler thing and try a few flavors, and let her do what made sense for her. Ernest got enough shit from the world as a mid-sized fat not-really-passing-most-of-the-time trans guy, for eating sweets in public…it seemed likely that as a larger fat diabetic femme cis woman, she got a whole lot more. He definitely didn’t want to add to that. Once he connected those ideas, a whole bunch more slotted into place, as he thought about unhelpful non-consensual help, and all the ways it messed things up, about the ways that kind of help interacted with ableism and fat oppression and misogyny. He started mapping it out in his notebook, connecting the dots for himself. Writing it, mapping it, helped make it stick when there was a gap in a pattern like this, like it was reinforcing a piece of the puzzle that had been missing but was now in place. He didn’t want to lose this piece again.

Ernest traced the pattern he’d drawn in his notebook, and felt his brain ready itself for a leap to another connection, just as he heard his name being said in a husky musical voice that held tones of humor, like perhaps she’d already said it a few times and he’d missed that. So he looked up, and Nora was there, taking off her adorable raincoat, which was bright pink and had white polka dots. She was wearing purple tights and a short black dress. Her dress had cupcakes on it! Nora managed to look both powerful and cute at the same time; it was something about how her clothes suited her pear-shaped fatness perfectly, and something about how she held herself. Her face was flushed, she was smiling, and her chin-length dark brown hair was all wild frizzy curls today. So was his own hair, come to think of it. He actually had a curl in the center of his fucking forehead, which of course put his mother’s voice in his head, exactly where he did not want her. He dug his nails into his thigh to try to get rid of her and focus on the present.

“You were in your own world,” she said.

He ducked his head. “Um, yeah. I do that.”

“I do it too, when I’m writing. My world is a pretty good place to spend time in.”

He smiled. His world was pretty great too. “I know what you mean. My world is a lot better than most places in NYC. Maybe you could tell me about your world sometime?”

“You want to hear about the world I’m writing, the novel I’m working on?”

“Yes, please,” he said firmly. He definitely wanted to hear about that.

“Hmm. That rates a please, does it?”

Ernest blinked, trying to figure out what she meant. Was he not supposed to say please? Was he not supposed to want to hear about her world? He didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded.

She was still standing over the table, though she’d draped her raincoat over her chair, and moved closer to him, so it wasn’t that she was going to leave. Was he supposed to be standing too? She made him nervous, looking down at him, standing so close. His heart was racing. Why did he like being around her so much if she made him nervous like this?

“Come on,” Nora said, and her hand appeared. He was supposed to take it, he knew. But they hadn’t ever touched, so it was a shock to be suddenly faced with it. Did he want to take her hand? After a moment the answer came: yes. So he stood up, and took it. She tugged him over to the display case of all the cupcakes, and then stood next to him, reaching over his body to point out her favorite flavors, closer than she had ever stood before. It made him a bit dizzy, but not in a scary way. It was like being filled with bubbles; he was unsteady, almost floating, definitely not firmly planted on the ground.

He dug his boots into the floor, not wanting to fall, as her voice filled him up, talking about why she loved these particular flavors. The scent of sugar and butter was so strong in this part of the shop. But that wasn’t all he smelled. Her raincoat had a hood but he didn’t think she’d been wearing it, because her hair, which was so close it had brushed his face, smelled like rain. He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed in, concentrating on the smell of rain. He’d always loved the rain, would stand outside in it every chance he got, savoring the sensation of it on his skin. There was nothing like spinning in the rain. He’d tried spinning in the shower but it wasn’t the same. “Singin’ in the Rain” came into his head, and he hummed it, knowing that he couldn’t sing, not in a bakery, even though he wanted to. Humming would have to do.

Xan West is the nom de plume of Corey Alexander, an autistic queer fat Jewish genderqueer writer and community activist with multiple disabilities who spends a lot of time on Twitter.

Xan’s erotica has been published widely, including in the Best S/M Erotica series, the Best Gay Erotica series, and the Best Lesbian Erotica series. Xan’s story “First Time Since”, won honorable mention for the 2008 National Leather Association John Preston Short Fiction Award. Their collection of queer kink erotica, Show Yourself to Me, is out from Go Deeper Press.

After over 15 years of writing and publishing queer kink erotica short stories, Xan has begun to also write longer form queer kink romance. Their recent work still centers kinky, trans and non-binary, fat, disabled, queer trauma survivors. It leans more towards centering Jewish characters, ace and aro spec characters, autistic characters, and polyamorous networks. Xan has been working on a queer kinky polyamorous romance novel, Shocking Violet, for the last four years, and hopes to finish a draft very soon! You can find details and excerpts on their website, and sign up for their newsletter to get updates.

Cover Reveal

Exclusive Cover Reveal: Clio Rising by Paula Martinac

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Today on the site  we’re revealing the cover for Clio Rising by Paula Martinac, historical fiction about a lesbian woman who embarks on a job as companion to a literary giant of the Paris expatriate generation—an octogenarian recluse who accomplished just one great novel. We also have an excerpt, so let’s get to it! Here’s the info on the book:

clio-rising.jpg

In 1983, Livvie Bliss leaves western North Carolina for New York City, armed with a degree in English and a small cushion of cash from a favorite aunt. Her goal is to launch a career in publishing, but also to live openly as a lesbian. A rough start makes Livvie think she should give up and head home, but then a new friend helps her land a job at a literary agency run by the formidable Bea Winston.

Bea hopes Livvie’s Southern charm and boyish good looks will help her bond with one of the agency’s most illustrious clients–the cranky Modernist writer Clio Hartt, an octogenarian recluse who accomplished just one great novel. When Livvie becomes Clio’s girl Friday and companion, the plan looks like it’s working: The two connect around their shared western North Carolina heritage, and their rapport gives Clio support and inspiration to think about publishing again.

But something isn’t quite right with Clio’s writing. And as Livvie learns more about Clio’s romantic relationship with playwright Flora Haynes, uncomfortable parallels emerge between Livvie’s own circle of friends and the drama-filled world of expatriate artists in Paris in the 1920s. In Clio’s final days, the writer shares a secret that could upend Livvie’s life–and the literary establishment.

And here’s the cover, designed by Ann McMan of Treehouse Studio! 

Clio Rising comes out April 23, 2019 from Bywater Books!

Preorder: B&N | Amazon | IndieBound

***

Voila, the excerpt!

On the phone, Bea Winston had a smoky voice, and before I met her I pictured someone who sipped martinis in a sleek black cocktail dress, her hair impeccably coiffed—Marlene Dietrich maybe. In person, Bea resembled someone’s middle-aged mom, a leftover hippie-type, with shoulder-length salt-and-pepper hair falling loose over a slightly wrinkled plum silk tunic. She came only to my shoulder, but when we shook hands, her grip belonged to a much taller woman.

Bea ran her finger down the single page of my accomplishments as if she were interested. Nothing really translated to this job, aside from a BA in English from UNC Asheville and an internship at the local newspaper, where I’d basically been a go-fer. She peered at me over her wire-frame aviator glasses and across the vast expanse of her oak desk. “‘Oh, lost!’” she quoted, out of nowhere.

Another applicant might have been puzzled by the line from Look Homeward, Angel, but I jumped at the bait. “Yes, ma’am, Asheville’s claim to fame.” Native son Thomas Wolfe had immortalized Asheville and its environs in his first novel.

“And you’ve read his work.”

“In my twentieth-century lit class, yes.” I was hedging, nervous that she’d ask me specifics I couldn’t dredge up. The two years between that class and the interview in Bea’s office were a gaping hole of vanished knowledge.

“An overrated writer, if you ask me,” she said, setting my resume aside in a way that suggested our interview was over and that I’d failed the test. But then she added, “I’m from Georgia myself, home to the great Flannery O’Connor. You wouldn’t know it because I divested myself of my accent in 1950. I stood in front of a mirror every evening and forced myself to form words differently.”

Bea leaned back in her chair, farther than seemed possible without toppling over. But she knew the limits of that chair—and just about everything else. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

I stammered for a few minutes about what a giant she was in publishing, how I admired her founding the first-ever woman-run agency—facts that Gerri had fed to me.

“No, what are you doing in New York? Good girls from Asheville get married and stay put. Especially girls named Olive Bliss.”

Her question seemed vaguely illegal, but I very much wanted to be myself everywhere. In particular, I wanted my first real job to let me be me, and Gerri had said she didn’t think Bea was homophobic.

“I’m gay,” I blurted out. “My family actually lives in Weaverville, which is even more small-town than Asheville. My folks don’t know about me.” I omitted the part about leaving because I was heartbroken, too.

“Did you dress that way back home?”

I glanced down at my outfit: khaki pants, navy blazer, and light-blue button-down shirt were my idea of business attire.

“Because if you did, they all know,” she observed.

My mother didn’t like the way I dressed, but she’d given up objecting to it when I went to college. My sisters didn’t try to set me up with men anymore. If they knew what to call me, none of them would ever use the word.

“Maybe,” I allowed with a shrug. “But New York seemed like the best place for me. And no, ma’am, I can’t change my name. But just so you know, everybody calls me Livvie.”

Bea moistened her lips, and I waited for a curt “Thank you, we’ll let you know” that didn’t come. As it turned out, I was just what she needed, in ways she didn’t divulge at the time.

“Well, I can see why you’d want to move,” she said. “So, Livvie.” I’d never heard my name sound so smooth or rich, like top-shelf bourbon. Livvie on the rocks, please. “I need you to start tomorrow. The place is in chaos. The kind you get when your last two assistants have been incompetent. So, if you can start tomorrow and handle enormous stress, the job is yours.” She said it paid twelve thousand a year, a princely sum when many advertised publishing jobs started at ten-five.

From a public phone on the corner I called my mother collect and told her I’d landed a good job with benefits in a nice clean office near Washington Square. Clean was very important to my mother; Washington Square meant nothing to her, but I threw it in because it sounded ritzy. I didn’t expect the audible whoosh from the other end of the line, as if she’d been holding her breath since I’d moved away, waiting for the call about her youngest daughter being mugged, or homeless, or anything else bad that could happen to a girl in New York City.

PaulaMartinac-web

Paula Martinac is the author of a book of short stories and five novels, including The Ada Decades, a finalist for the 2018 Ferro-Grumley Award for LGBTQ Fiction. Her debut novel, Out of Time, won the Lambda Literary Award and was a finalist for the American Library Association’s Gay and Lesbian Book Award. Her short stories have appeared in Raleigh Review, Main Street Rag, Minerva Rising, Bloom, A&E, and many others. She has also published three nonfiction books on LGBT themes, including The Queerest Places: A Guide to Gay and Lesbian Historic Sites, and authored plays that were produced in Pittsburgh, New York, Washington, DC, and elsewhere. She is a lecturer in the undergraduate creative writing program at the University of North Carolina at Charlotte and a writing coach with Charlotte Center for the Literary Arts. Read more at paulamartinac.com.

Cover Reveal

Exclusive Cover Reveal: Three Kisses by London Setterby

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What do you get when you take three adorable stories and put them together as an ebook for the first time? In this case, Three Kisses by London Setterby, which releases on March 26th! Here are the details on the three stories that make up the collection:

About That (Almost) Kiss (m/m)

Since his ex dumped him, Alec Chase has spent his nights sleeping on friends’ couches, wandering his urban college campus, or standing around at dreary parties. That was how he ran into smart, sexy JP Wu last weekend. But JP, a brilliant graphic novelist, is way too good for Alec. As for JP trying to kiss him—well, that was only because he was drunk…right?

A Kiss in Costume (winner of a 2016 Watty Award) (f/f)

This Halloween, Maggie Juárez just wants to nerd out on the finer points of costume design in her hand-made Regency ballgown and try to ignore her painful, awkward crush on beautiful ice-queen Samantha Winters. But Sam is impossible to ignore, especially when she shows up to a party dressed—perfectly—as Mr. Darcy. She can’t be trying to attract Maggie’s attention…can she? 

A Kiss At Christmas (trans m/cis f)

Reid Schechter has always had a crush on his childhood best friend, vivacious cosplay enthusiast Layla Peters. Instead of growing apart at their separate colleges, they seem to have more in common than ever. And visiting Layla in person for the first time after starting his hormone therapy and undergoing top surgery should be weird, but it just feels normal. Still, as much as he daydreams about asking her out, Layla is practically a natural phenomenon. There’s no way she could have feelings for a curmudgeon like him…is there?

And here’s the cover, designed by the author!

Kindle: https://amzn.to/2TCkGCW
Apple Books: https://apple.co/2T5BM6V
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2TFM2b6
Nook: http://bit.ly/2UCKdsb

***

London Setterby writes modern-day Gothics and fantasy romances. As L. Setterby, she also writes gritty, suspenseful contemporary romances. Under both names, she writes across the LGBTQ+ spectrum. London lives in Pennsylvania with her husband and toddler. She is usually covered in cracker crumbs.

Cover Reveal

Exclusive Cover Reveal: Ziggy, Stardust & Me by James Brandon

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I am so freakin’ excited to be revealing this cover on the site today, and it’s not hard to see why. LOOK AT THAT MAJESTY. (But wait, not yet! First let me to tell you that this is a cover reveal for a historical YA called Ziggy, Stardust & Me by James Brandon, which releases on August 6, 2019 from Putnam/PRH, and to read on for the blurb and an excerpt!)

The year is 1973. The Watergate hearings are in full swing. The Vietnam War is still raging. And homosexuality is still officially considered a mental illness. In the midst of these trying times is sixteen-year-old Jonathan Collins, a bullied, anxious, asthmatic kid, who aside from an alcoholic father and his sympathetic neighbor and friend Starla, is completely alone. To cope, Jonathan escapes to the safe haven of his imagination, where his hero David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust and dead relatives, including his mother, guide him through the rough terrain of his life. In his alternate reality, Jonathan can be anything: a superhero, an astronaut, Ziggy Stardust, himself, or completely “normal” and not a boy who likes other boys. When he completes his treatments, he will be normal—at least he hopes. But before that can happen, Web stumbles into his life. Web is everything Jonathan wishes he could be: fearless, fearsome and, most importantly, not ashamed of being gay.

Jonathan doesn’t want to like brooding Web, who has secrets all his own. Jonathan wants nothing more than to be “fixed” once and for all. But he’s drawn to Web anyway. Web is the first person in the real world to see Jonathan completely and think he’s perfect. Web is a kind of escape Jonathan has never known. For the first time in his life, he may finally feel free enough to love and accept himself as he is.

A poignant coming-of-age tale, Ziggy, Stardust and Me heralds the arrival of a stunning and important new voice in YA.

And now, a drum roll for the gorgeous cover, designed by Krisitie Radwilowicz with artwork by Tomasz Mro…

Preorder: Amazon | B&N | IndieBound

Killer, right?? But wait, there’s more! Here’s an excerpt!

When I reach the summit of the crying cliff, I grab a few poofs of PeterPaulandMary and glide over to Web.

Because his eyes have built-in night vision or something, he’s clearly been settled here for seven years waiting for me. Sprawled out on the mossy patch, arms folded behind his head, he’s lost somewhere in the sky. The three-quarter moon shines a perfect white glow on “our spot.”

I flop down next to him, follow his gaze, and KAPOW.

Whoa.

Above us, someone’s plugged in the Lite-Brite, I swear. I’m tingling. More than that, I am the Lite-Brite. And all the plastic pegs inside me zing to life.

I can’t help it. I start giggling. “Whoa.”

“I know, man,” he says, turning to me. “Whoa.”

We lie side by side. The only other sound I hear: our synchronistic breathing.

“Don’t you wish we could go up there?” I ask after a while. “And look back down on all this and laugh?”

“We can in our mind.”

“Like the moon,” I say.

“Like the moon . . .”

I fold my hands under my head, smiling. “You know, Carl Sagan says we’re all made of star stuff. Everything is made of it. When stars die they fall into our atmosphere and turn into these chemical compounds that become things. Sometimes they become people.”

“Far out.”

“I know. I hope one day we’ll all see each other without these stupid labels and instead see each other for who we really are. Starfolk.”

“Yeah,” he says. “One day . . .”

“Yeah . . .”

We’re staring. We’re swimming. We’re lost.

“Your turn,” I say.

“My turn what?” he asks.

“It’s your turn. Last time we were up here, I was the one to answer a question. Now it’s your turn.”

“Oh, so this is a continuous game that, what, goes on for our lifetimes?”

“Maybe.”

“Okay then. Fire away.”

I nestle my cheek in the earth, facing him. “Why do you get so angry?”

“Oh.”

“I mean seriously? Sometimes I’m just waiting for your skin to turn green and your muscles to rip through your clothes and you’re going to start eating people like they’re little gummy bears.”

He laughs. “Yeah. It’s a problem.”

“So?”

His face hides nothing. You can see the wheels cranking, the mind gears spinning. Either he’s about to punch me in my face or—

“You really wanna know?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s kind of a long story . . .”

“Okay.”

His chest grows into a balloon, like he’s taking a deep breath for both of us. “Once upon a time—”

“Wait. For real?”

“What?”

“Once upon a time?”

“Yeah, man. What, are there rules on how to tell a story now?”

We laugh.

“Okay then, go,” I say.

“Once upon a time,” he starts again, slowly. “There was a little boy. And this little boy loved his father very much.” His eyes glaze over, disappear in the night. “After his mother died, the father taught this little boy everything he knew. They had dreams. To drive across the country and eat a different slice of pie from every diner they could find. To be the first American Indians in space. Together, the father and son were indestructible. They were invincible.” The stars explode in his eyes. His voice drifts away.

“Then one night, driving in the middle of pitch-black nothing, two red and blue flashes appear in the sky. Carole King sings on the radio. A white cop beams a light through the window. The little boy’s father is dragged out of the car.” He yells, punching the wind with his words. “Crunching. Beating. Screaming. ‘Shut the fuck up, Injun, go back to your land!’ ‘This is my land!’ ‘Don’t you talk back to us!’” Pools of sweat drip from his forehead. “More screaming. Crunching. Beating. The little boy crawls in the back seat, curls up, cries. The cops drive away. A huge dust cloud blows all around the father and son. The little boy opens the back door. He looks down. His father lies in a river of blood. His eyes, dilated. The little boy’s superhero was dead.”

It wasn’t sweat dripping from his face.

I want to reach out, but I’m paralyzed.

“From that day on, the little boy vowed to avenge his father’s death. To make the white man pay. And one day—” He wipes his face with his shirt and looks at me. Starburst heat radiates from his body, slapping my face. I don’t move. I don’t blink. I honestly don’t know what to do.

“I win,” he says, and chuckles.

The world skips back to life: Crickets chirp, soft curly moss sticks to our cheeks, the waterfall cascades below us.

“She’s crying,” I whisper.

“Yeah . . .”

Something’s happening. My heart starts fluttering; my stomach starts tingling. Before I can figure out why, he leans in,

and kisses me.

***

Once again, those preorder links are:
Amazon | B&N | IndieBound

***

Photo Credit: David Zaugh

James Brandon produced and played the central role of Joshua in the international tour of Terrence McNally’s Corpus Christi for a decade, and is Co-Director of the documentary film based on their journey: Corpus Christi: Playing with Redemption. He’s Co-Founder of the I AM Love Campaign, an arts-based initiative bridging the faith-based and LGBTQ2+ communities, and serves on the Powwow Steering Committee for Bay Area American Indian Two-Spirits (BAAITS) in San Francisco. Brandon is a contributing writer for Huffington Post, Believe Out Loud, and Spirituality and Health Magazine. Ziggy, Stardust, and Me is his first novel.

Cover Reveal

Exclusive Cover Reveal: Mourning Dove by R.R. Campbell

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Today on the site, we’re welcome the cover reveal of R.R. Campbell’s Mourning Dove, the second book in the sci-fi EMPATHY series, releasing on April 29, 2019, from Ninestar Press! Come check it out:

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In the aftermath of the calamitous Human/Etech research study, Chandra and Kyra struggle to reclaim the life they shared in a pre-EMPATHY world, while Ty, armed with knowledge of EMPATHY’s programming language, seeks revenge on the Halmans for the harm that’s befallen his friends.

As a North American Union investigation into the happenings on the compound looms, a grief-stricken Peter works to resurrect the memory of his mother from a harvested nanochip, and Heather scrambles to keep her family—and their company—together. Alistair, having abandoned the family business, plots to save his hide and that of his wife while she strives to stay one step ahead of a husband she has no reason to trust.

Far to the north amid civil unrest, a recently retired Rénald Dupont investigates the disappearance of his friend and former colleague, Meredith, despite grave threats from an increasingly skittish North American Union government.

As old and new foes emerge, spouse is further pit against spouse, brother against sister, and governments against their people. In the end, all must choose between attempts to reclaim the past or surrender to the inevitable, an intractable world of their own creation.

Mourning Dove is an evocative, sweeping symphony of love, revenge, and desperation in cacophonous times. It is the second installment in r. r. campbell’s epic EMPATHY sci-fi saga.

And now the cover, designed by Natasha Snow! 

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Mourning Dove is out April 29, 2019 from Ninestar Press

Pre-order now! (Use code PREORDER for 30% off at checkout)

Haven’t read book one in the series, Imminent Dawn? You can learn more about it below!

43196570Art-school dropout Chandra would do anything to apologize for her role in her wife’s coma—including enroll in the first round of human trials for an internet-access brain implant.

At first, the secretive research compound is paradise, the perfect place to distract Chandra from her grief. But as she soon learns, the facility is more prison than resort, with its doctors, support staff, and her fellow patients all bent on hatching plots of their own, no matter how invested they might seem in helping her communicate with her wife.

Making matters worse, a dark wave of uncertainty crashes down on the compound, forcing Chandra to become an unlikely but pivotal player in conspiracies stretching from the highest levels of the North American Union government to the lowest dredges of its shadowy hacking collectives.

To save herself and her wife, Chandra and her newfound friends from the study will have to overcome the scheming of a ruthless tech magnate, the naïveté of an advancement-hungry administrative assistant, and the relentless pursuits of an investigative journalist, all of whom are determined to outpace the others in their own quests to resurrect lost love, cover their tracks, and uncover the truth.

A twistedly delightful clockwork of intrigue and suspense, EMPATHY: Imminent Dawn is an electrifying sci-fi debut from author r. r. campbell.

—
Buy links for Imminent Dawn (EMPATHY #1): Amazon | Barnes & Noble | NineStar Press | Kobo | Smashwords
 
 

***

Want to request an ARC or participate in the Mourning Dove blog tour? Click here!
 
Preorder link for Mourning Dove  (Use code PREORDER at checkout for 30% off!)
 
Find the author on: Twitter | Facebook | Instagram
Cover Reveal

Exclusive Cover Reveal: Temper: Deference by Lila Mina

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Today on the site we have the cover reveal of Temper: Deference by Lila Mina, the first book in an adult polyam paranormal romance series with BDSM themes.

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Short-tempered Lana Martin is a workaholic consultant based in Tokyo. Not one to turn down a challenge, she accepts the indecent proposal of her abrasive martial arts’ instructor to become his submissive in a dynamic that tests her resilience.

Spreading like wildfire, their affair lights up another blaze, this time between Lana and Honda’s wife, the sophisticated socialite Yuki. Fearless, Lana embraces what her two masters offer her.

Yet, unbeknown to her, their powerful desire rouses dark powers who waited for decades to claim their prizes. Lana must confront the enemy eating her from within, while pulling back Honda from the edge of madness. Yuki’s unwavering strength keeps them sane – but for how long?

On to the cover, designed by Giulia Natsumi!

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Preorder now: Amazon * Kobo * Smashwords 

And now an excerpt!

Yuki stopped by the reading room on their way out. “Goshujin sama, we are leaving. We will be at Chicago’s Soul, have a nice evening.”

Lana was already in the genkan and didn’t hear his reply. “Will there be any gig tonight?” she asked as they climbed into the taxi.

“There are always several live acts. At this hour, we might still catch a couple. Afterward, DJs take over the place.” Yuki took Lana’s hand and squeezed it. “Now, let’s make good use of tonight to get to know each other better. I intend to make you drink enough champagne to have you spill out your life story, sweetling,” she chuckled.

Lana’s smile turned forced. She would have to control her intake because she wasn’t ready for this. “Hm, I’ll make sure you don’t spike my drink, then. Who knows what would happen to me? I could wake up in your bed and not remember anything, or something just as terrible,” she smirked.

Yuki’s laugh sent new butterflies to Lana’s stomach, but nice one this time. Honda sama, you idiot, why can’t you be content with such a queen at your side…

Yuki leaned toward her ear, warm breath sending shivers along her spine. “Now I regret not having ordered a limousine with a privacy screen. It would be bad press to give this grandpa a good show; and we wouldn’t hear the end of it.”

Lana closed her eyes and stifled a moan. “Let’s wait a bit longer,” she whispered.

“Don’t worry, neko chan, our VIP lounge is a separate room with full privacy.” Both women shared a steamy look filled with promises before falling back into a comfortable silence while their taxi brought them to Shibuya district.

The exclusive nightclub Chicago’s Soul occupied a four-stories high building. Hundreds of patrons waited in line, but Yuki brought them without hesitation to the VIP entrance. She didn’t even have to show her member card for the doors to open wide. Two hostesses brought them to their lounge. Lana discovered a spacious room, all in burgundy, red, and black tones, with large sofas. A bay window offered a perfect view of the dance-floor and scene, two floors below.

“Champagne?” Yuki asked, offering Lana a flute.

After a toast, Lana pointed at the jazz band performing. “Do you mind if we go downstairs to listen? It’s been ages since I had the chance to enjoy live jazz and I’d love to be closer than this.”

“Of course! There’s a table booked for us. This band is so good, they come back every year from Chicago, and the crowds love them. Come on, let’s go.” Yuki grabbed Lana’s hand and led them to the flight of stairs.

As soon as they sat at the table, only a few meters away from the scene, Lana found herself lost in the amazing performance of the band. The saxophonist was gifted, and his music stirred a whirlpool of emotions flushing her cheeks and making her hands shake. Warm fingers squeezed her wrist.

“I wish you could see the look on your face and those sparkles in your eyes, sweetling. I am so happy we came here tonight. It was high time you enjoyed something pleasurable and easy,” Yuki said in her ear.

Tears blurred Lana’s sight, and she pressed her companion’s hand back. “I didn’t think I needed it, but it seems like I truly did. Thank you, Yuki sama.”

They remained at their table for about one hour, savoring a fresh bottle of champagne until the concert came to an end. Like everyone else, they jumped on their feet for a standing ovation.

“Dancing time!” Yuki exclaimed. “Do you want to go back to our lounge, or shall we stay here and join the crowd when there is some movement going on?”

“Why don’t we remain here for a while? I’m dying to hear how, you, the eldest daughter of a fearsome industry tycoon, get to open the doors of the most exclusive nightclubs in stride?”

Yuki laughed; she massaged Lana’s thigh under the table, and let her fingers crawl up, sending electric shocks to her companion’s core. “Well, you see, while my father has given me the same education as my brothers, to his eternal frustration, he’s never been able to curb my endless search for personal freedom. My desire to explore my drives and be truthful to myself. My mother understood it and helped me, enabling many of my wildest choices–including my love for partying. My father was mad at us, but he never knew how to hold a grudge against her for long.” She caressed Lana’s cheek and took a shaky breath. “You would have loved her, and she would have definitely loved you.” Emotions thickened her voice.

Not caring about the crowd surrounding them, Lana leaned forward to kiss Yuki’s neck. Her lover cupped her cheek, pressed her lips and swept her tongue against hers, demanding entrance. Their deep kiss left them panting.

“Come on, let’s dance,” Yuki said huskily. “Show me what all this extra harsh training is about, sweetling.”

Lana gave her a dazzling smile and led her by the hand to the center of the dance floor. Soon, they were lost to the outside world, letting the fast beat and loud music take over their bodies, sweat drenching their backs. Lana’s desire for her companion built up fast, and she had to remind herself they weren’t alone. The fire in Yuki’s eyes told her a similar story when she grabbed Lana’s waist for a highly charged sensual dance.

“So neko chan, do you see anyone here who catches your eyes, whom you find… interesting?” Yuki purred in Lana’s ear.

Lana squeezed Yuki’s arm around her waist. “Yes, indeed. Lucky me, I’m in her arms,” she replied, beaming.

“So smooth and sweet.” Yuki replied with a large smile. “Now, don’t forget, you’re allowed to look… and more.”

Lana chuckled and shook her head. “As if I could have the energy or even the need to search for someone else with the two of you in my life. Right now, I am quite complete and content, oku sama.”

Yuki remained silent for a while, continuing her complex dance moves, and leading Lana through them. “Intimacy is such a serious thing for you. Why not try the fun side of it? How about finding out if any of those beautiful young ladies wants to come upstairs with us?”

Lana smiled against the smooth and damp skin of her lover, cupping her cheek. “I envy you so much for knowing who you are and for this freedom you’ve found. Please oku sama. Go ahead, ask one of them out, don’t mind me, you don’t need my blessing. Maybe one day I’ll get there, but right now, this is impossible.”

Yuki’s eyes flashed. They stopped dancing and found themselves in a bubble, surrounded by hundreds of dancers. Lana didn’t blink under the searching gaze of her companion.

“Of course not, I’m not ditching you! Hm… don’t take me wrong, but the two of you are so similar. All these years, goshujin sama gave me complete leeway, but when he met you, only then did he grant himself some self-indulgence. He chose you.”

Lana winced. “Ah, this must be hard for you–” A slender finger on her lips cut her off.

“No, it’s not. I’ve already told you why. And it’s such a blessing it’s you, and that I find myself drowning in your personality, care and your other delicious skills. He couldn’t have chosen better,” Yuki added with a warm smile before resuming dancing.

Lana followed suit but had to look away to hide her trouble. Chosen… always this word.

She exhaled to let go of her tension; her eyes found the VIP area on the second floor and fell on the last man she’d expected to see. Honda.

“Oh!” She came again to a stop, shocked. “I can’t believe it. He’s here, just outside the VIP room, by the stairs!”

Yuki didn’t even glance up or lose a beat. “Yes, he’s been there for fifteen minutes or so, watching us.”

“Did you expect him?”

“No, it’s the second or third time in the past ten years he’s come here. He dislikes the noise and such crowds. Maybe the picture of you in this amazing dress I sent him earlier did the trick,” Yuki teased.

Lana burst out laughing, her unease evaporating, replaced by the wicked pleasure to make jokes at his expense with the only other person who would get it.

“Oh my, this and the video of your incredible hip move I sent him!” Both women whooped in laughter. “All right, it’s nasty of us to give him such a nosebleed.”

Yuki snorted. “A nosebleed and something else, which must be bothering him a lot right now. We can always blame it on the alcohol, and if he complains, the door of my bedroom will be locked next week.”

Lana chuckled. “This is your prerogative.”

Something serious flickered again in Yuki’s eyes, and the older woman grabbed both hands of her companion. “Lana san, it’s yours as well. Let me be clear here. If you don’t want to join him when he asks you to, you don’t have to. You’re in his service, yes, but not at his service. Whatever role we play, whatever pledge of obedience you made. Your limits aren’t only there for when you’re already in action. They also apply before starting anything. If you want to give him the cold shoulder for one week or one month, it’s fine, as long as you are clear and forthcoming.”

Lana inhaled deeply. “My problem is not having to go to him when I don’t want to. Rather, the issue is, I always want to. Even now, even though we’re together, and I want you and would like to do so many naughty things to you on the spot…” They shared a knowing smile. “Knowing he’s here, I…” She blushed and looked away.

“You want to climb the stairs and join him,” Yuki purred in her ear, once again against Lana’s hip and chest.

“Yes!” Lana exclaimed, exasperated. “I’m mad at myself for being so weak when it comes to him, in particular when this is supposed to be our night.”

Yuki grabbed her neck and pulled her in for another deep kiss. “It is, sweetling. But this is also supposed to be a fun and relaxing time. The choice is yours: you can go up to him, stay with me, take me up with you, or leave us here and get back home.”

Lana groaned, tugged by many contradictions, and threw another look at the VIP space. What she saw made her frown and burst her self-pity bubble. “Yuki sama, there are several women around goshujin sama, vying for his attention.”

Yuki gave her a voracious smile but still, didn’t glance upstairs. “Oh, I’m sure there are, glittering moths drawn to a dark, brooding flame leaving them panting and all kinds of bothered. Don’t fret. He’s not going to spare them one glance.”

“Really? They’re so beautiful. It would be hard not to react, at least a little bit.”

Yuki went behind Lana and molded herself against her back. “Oh yes, they’re so lovely they make my eyes hurt and my mouth water, but he doesn’t work like this. They could be Miss Japan and jump him straight naked, he wouldn’t touch them. None of them would last even one minute with him, and he can’t even be bothered. Even I can’t always follow. Only you seem able to manage him at his highest degree. But perhaps it’s because this is not about fun but fight for the two of you, isn’t it?”

Once again, Lana turned silent and squeezed Yuki’s hand. Her words hit their marks with frightening accuracy, but it was also a relief to hear this truth expressed so plainly. Yuki nibbled her lover’s sweaty neck. “Come on now, let’s go upstairs, and rescue him from such unbearable harassment.”

***

An avid reader of thrillers, science-fiction, horror and romance, I have been writing for nearly 25 years. Lila Mina is one of my pen names.
I live in Japan. The rich and beautiful traditions, the amazing nature and the long history of this country are a constant source of creative inspiration.
I am a firm believer in cross-genre literature. Life is too complex, too rich and surprising to limit stories to one genre. I love blending them to create powerful characters, emotional plots and exciting stories that hopefully will stay a long time with my readers. My stories feature multiracial couples and sometimes menage who come together, bound by love and passion, to fight against forces bent on taking them apart.  
Cover Reveal

Exclusive Cover Reveal: New Ink on Life by Jennie Davids

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Today on the site today we have a new cover reveal: New Ink on Life by Jennie Davids, a contemporary f/f romance releasing on May 27, 2019, from Carina Press! Come check it out!

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Quiet does not equal weak…

Leaving a dependable job to apprentice as a tattoo artist was a drastic step after surviving breast cancer, but Cassie Fletcher is nearly five years cancer-free. Nearly. She’s not ready to go out on her own until she clears that all-important hurdle. Also off-limits are relationships and sex—something Cassie is sure she’ll never want again.

Struggling tattoo shop owner MJ Flores doesn’t give a damn what people think, but losing Thorn & Thistle would mean losing everything. When her former mentor’s protégé arrives at her door, MJ hires her out of obligation…at first. Cross-stitching goody-goodies are not her type, but Cassie’s business background might just get the shop back on solid footing. They strike a bargain: Cassie will enact new marketing plans and MJ will teach her to find her inner bitch.

Only when clients request to see Cassie—having learned of the beautiful, compassionate tattoos she creates for survivors and their families—does MJ realize all Cassie has endured. And as Cassie’s fears fade, she finds it harder to keep her admiration for her bad-girl boss from reawakening all she’d feared was lost.

***

And now, the cover!

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New Ink On Life is out May 27, 2019 from Carina Press

Preorder: Amazon | BN | Google Play | Harlequin 

Jennie Davids bio photo.jpgJennie Davids fell in love with romance when she was twelve and snuck her mother’s books. For her it wasn’t the handsome, dashing heroes that captivated her but the heroines. She is thrilled to be writing what she longed to see then—two heroines falling in love. 

She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her rescue animals that somehow never end up as well-behaved as their bio promise. The sound of the rain inspires her as she writes or maybe it’s the gallons of hot chocolate she consumes to stay warm in the damp climate. 

When not writing Jennie is reading, watching reality TV, or bemoaning how quickly weeds grow back and keep her from reading.

Cover Reveal

Exclusive Cover Reveal: Empire of Light by Alex Harrow

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I’m very excited to have Alex Harrow on the site today, revealing the cover of their upcoming adult sci-fi best described as “gay Firefly with magic,” Empire of Light! (See tags for more information on rep and content warnings.)

Check it out:

Damian Nettoyer is the Empire’s go-to gun. He kills whoever they want him to kill. In exchange, he and his rag-tag gang of crooks get to live, and Damian’s psychokinetic partner and lover, Aris, isn’t issued a one-way ticket to an Empire-sanctioned lobotomy.

Then Damian’s latest mark, a suave revolutionary named Raeyn, kicks his ass and demands his help. The first item on the new agenda: take out Damian’s old boss—or Raeyn will take out Damian’s crew.

To protect his friends and save his own skin, Damian teams up with Raeyn to make his revolution work. As the revolution gains traction, Damian gets way too close to Raeyn, torn between the need to shoot him one moment and kiss him the next. But Aris slips further away from Damian, and as Aris’ control over his powers crumbles, the Watch catches on.

With the Empire, Damian had two policies: shoot first and don’t ask questions. But to save the guy he loves, he’ll set the world on fire.

And here’s the cover, designed by  rock star Natasha Snow!

Gorgeous, isn’t it?? But wait, there’s more! Stay tuned (for another .03 seconds for an exclusive excerpt from Empire of Light by Alex Harrow) that begins…now!

ONE

SHOOTINGS WITH A CHANCE OF EXPLOSIONS

Funny how I always had to be the guy who ended up with a gun to his head.

“I thought you said this was going to be easy,” Aris said somewhere to my right. His voice was thick, the words choked out past the gun shoved underneath his jaw. The two Reds who kept us pinned were all broad shoulders and raw muscle. Huge white guys. Buzz cuts. Built like fucking tanks. In the low light of a fading sunset spilling into the empty warehouse, their leather coats gleamed like congealing blood.

The run had started out simple enough: get in, dump the cargo—a couple dozen barrels of diesel and some tech we’d snatched off a derailed train—and get the hell out. The place’d been abandoned for years, just another slouching ruin on the outskirts of Low Side. The perfect hiding spot to stash away things you didn’t want the Watch to find, while waiting for the highest bidder to jump the gun. A surefire way to some quick and easy cash and still get to my real job for the night.

Standing there with my face mashed against the crumbling brick wall, a gun barrel against my skull, it looked more like a surefire way straight to a cell in the Finger of Light.

If we were lucky.

The guy above me looked more than happy to put a bullet into my brain pan and chalk both Aris and I up as “casualties, resisting arrest.” The Watch, safeguards of the Empire, the Consolidated Nations at their best. To protect and serve. Right.

Not like I could just tell our dear upstanding Reds to go ahead and stick their guns and handcuffs up their asses, because we kind of were on the same team. I might be running the Empire’s off-the-books hits for extra cash, but officially, I didn’t exist.

Blurting out that I was on their boss’ payroll wouldn’t get me anything but a bullet to the head and my body dumped into the East River. Talk about employment perks.

That’s what I got for double-booking myself. Fucking Murphy’s Law.

And worse, I’d dragged Aris into it.

“Guess Jay was sugarcoating it just a little bit when she said there might be slight complications.”

Someone ratted us out. No way the Watch had just shown up here, far from their usual patrol routes, without any reason. The whole thing’d been a sting from the get-go, and once I found out who’d set us up—

My fingers twitched for my Colt. My Colt that lay cold and useless about five feet away from me. Slim chance I’d be able to shoot both Reds before one of them got to either Aris or me, but I might get lucky and get the drop on one of them. Especially if I could piss him off enough he got stupid. At the very least I could distract them from Aris.

“You know, I kind of need to be somewhere. And I’d really appreciate a little more leg room here,” I said and squirmed under the Red’s grip.

Honestly, by now I probably should’ve memorized some of the regulars’ names or something. To me they all looked the same. All fists ready to punch and guns ready to fire; neatly wrapped in black uniforms and their trademark red coats. Not like this was the first time either. By now, the Watch should really issue us a punch card for frequent visits, maybe something with a rewards program.

***

Alex Harrow is a genderqueer, pansexual, and demisexual author of queer science fiction and fantasy. Alex’ pronouns are they/them. When not writing queerness with a chance of explosions, Alex is a high school English teacher, waging epic battles against comma splices, misused apostrophes, and anyone under the delusion that the singular ‘they’ is grammatically incorrect.

A German immigrant, Alex has always been drawn to language and stories. They began to write when they realized that the best guarantee to see more books with queer characters was to create them. Alex cares deeply about social justice and wants to see diverse characters, including LGBTQ+ protagonists, in more than the stereotypical coming out story.

Alex currently lives in Utah with their equally geeky wife, outnumbered by three adorable feline overlords, and what could not possibly be too many books.

Follow Alex on Twitter @AlexHarrowSFF

Also, find them on Facebook, Instagram or Goodreads.