Thursday, January 16, 2020

#COVERREVEAL Blood Reigns (A Yuri Sorenson Mystery #2)

Cover Reveal & Preorder Announcement

Blood Reigns
(A Yuri Sorenson Mystery #2)
J.M. Dabney

Genre - Gay Mystery & Suspense/Gay Fiction
Publisher - Hostile Whispers Press, LLC
Length - Novel (50k+)
Release Date - March 17th, 2020
Cover Model - Kevin R. Davis
Cover Photographer - Golden Czermak (FuriousFotog)
Cover Designer - Hostile Whispers Designs

Blurb - 

Nothing ever unsettled P.I. Yuri Sorenson. As a former federal agent, he'd thought he'd seen it all. That was until a new client sashayed into his office and asked him to find her missing husband. Missing person cases weren't usually his thing, but when he learned it was her fourth husband to disappear, his curiosity took over.

He didn't know if he was searching for a body or just a wealthy man trying to escape a marriage he didn't want. When his search took him from underground BDSM clubs to the echelon of the city's high society, he didn't know who to trust or believe.

Finding out the truth wouldn't be as easy as he'd first thought and wondered if the consequences were worth the risk to his most prized possession—Josh?

Preorder Now

Author Info and Stalker Links

J.M. Dabney is a body positive/diverse multi-genre author who writes mainly LGBT romance and fiction. They live with a constant diverse cast of characters in their head. No matter their size, shape, race, etc. they live for one purpose alone, and that’s to make sure they do them justice and give them the happily ever after they deserve. J.M. is dysfunction at its finest and they makes sure their characters are a beautiful kaleidoscope of crazy. There is nothing more they want from telling their stories than to show that no matter the package the characters come in or the damage their pasts have done, that love is love. That normal is never normal and sometimes the so-called broken can still be amazing.

Stalker Links

Saturday, January 11, 2020

Don't Use Me as an Example: A Short Essay

Although, I’ve done this publishing thing a time or two, but I’ll tell everyone, or anyone who asks don’t use me as an example for this writing game. Everyone has their process—what works for them. I’ve told the story before, but it bears repeating, when I was eight I wrote the worst poem in literary history, but my love of writing formed. My mother wanted me to grow up to be an investigative journalist. We both quickly realized I wasn’t diplomatic enough for it. Although she was sure she’d see me on TV one day she just hoped it wasn’t in handcuffs. My Evil One aka Mommie Dearest aka Lifegiver always had the sweetest opinion of my personality.

But I digress. I grew up loving the written word, the way authors compose these perfectly imperfect symphonies of words, sentences, and paragraphs. Authors who paint mentally picturesque landscapes for us to disappear into. I’ve written before that I jotted down short stories in my notebooks with the dream of publishing a story someday. Anne Rice, Stephen King, Dean Koontz, Patterson, I wanted to see my name on the cover of a book gracing the shelves of a bookstore. My dad’s parents were voracious readers and I spent weekends at their house growing up. Every night it became a habit to curl up before going to sleep and read. I read everything from pulp detective novels to true crime serial killers. I was way too young for those types of stories, but my love of reading wasn’t stilted because of that.

Saturday, January 4, 2020

Romance Body Positivity and Diversity in 2020: a Short Essay

Let me back up a few years and tell you where it all started, I came out as lesbian later in life. I lived with my internalized homophobia. I lived with these words in my head it’s good for everyone else but that’s just not me. While I choked on my jealousy of others being out and proud. I self-destructed on whatever drugs I could make disappear up my nose or however much alcohol I could get down until I reached the bliss of blackouts. I make no apologies for the past. I can’t change what I’ve done; all I can do is accept it and pledge to myself to do better.

For decades of my life I was too fat, too depressed, too manic or whatever the fuck the weekly stigma was to elicit self-loathing. I wrote my dreams on the lined pages of well-worn notebooks. Swearing to myself that I’d never share the stories I hid. Then one day I started posting them anonymously online. Saving myself from the inevitable trolling that the internet is famous for.

Friday, December 6, 2019

#Debut #NewRelease Little Love by Siobhan Smile

Little Love

An Age Play Romance
by Siobhan Smile


When the perfect little stumbles into your life, what are you to do?

Lindy Rubin performed every task per her strict routine. She was speeding towards forty and becoming bored with her orderly life. When she began to assess the emptiness of her personal life, she hadn't expected the surprise destined to arrive. Was it fate that brought her a beautiful girl with teary, azure eyes to her doorstep? If so, who was she to deny her Little Love help in her moment of need?

(This title contains elements of Age Play & Domestic Discipline (D/s), if you find those subjects objectionable this isn't the book for you.)

#NewRelease Virgin - A Dark Billionaire Romance - Shanna Handel

Virgin – A Dark Billionaire Romance - Book 4
By Shanna Handel


Yesterday I’d never been kissed. Today every inch of me belongs to him.

I didn’t ask for a guardian, but it wasn’t up to me.

I disobeyed him, just to see what he would do.

Then I found out what happens to bad little girls.

Tuesday, July 16, 2019

New Release Warmth of his Light by Frey Ortega

When Eos Hawthorne went to meet a friend one evening, he never expected his entire life to change. As if stumbling across a group of men fighting in an abandoned lot by his home wasn’t shocking enough—one of those men suddenly attacks him...with fangs and claws.

Vampire coven leader Julien Blanchard is having a bad day. After failing to apprehend a murderer and traitor to his coven, the absolute last thing he needed was a hapless human stumbling into the picture— especially an intriguing young man who, as it turns out, happens to be his mate.

Eos doesn't know if he believes in mating, and knows nothing about the supernatural world he is suddenly thrust into. Julien is a vampire who has always put his coven and his duty first.

Will their burgeoning love be enough to see Eos safely through the dangers he finds himself in? And even more so, can it make the cold-blooded Julien relinquish control and embrace Eos, and the warmth of his light?

Warmth of His Light is the first book of the Blanchard Coven series. It is M/M, HEA, and complete at 61,287 words.
Available for Kindle Unlimited

Eos took a couple of steps back, almost as though he were right there in the midst of the action. He didn’t see anything else but the indistinct silhouette of bodies moving that he’d forgotten about the alley behind him, thinking he was about to get slashed at. Eos took a couple of steps back…and managed to hit his back loudly against what seemed to be a rather empty dumpster with a loud clang.
Well, it was mostly empty—except for a cat that gave an irritated yowl at being disturbed. It promptly sprung out at Eos, surprising him and making him jump.
“Shit!” Eos cussed. He twisted away, but his center of gravity was messed up by the sudden cat-attack and the fact that he had forgotten there was even a dumpster there at all. Eos fell flat on his rear right beside the dumpster…which he now noticed was leaking underneath.
But thank God I didn’t trip into the puddle of…whatever the hell that is. Eos wretched, fighting down the urge to barf.
Eos grimaced and not just because of the unidentified liquid dripping from underneath the dumpster that he was almost about to touch. Maybe the worst thing about this entire situation was that he had dropped his burger and soda, and now they were all over the concrete floor. Little cubes of ice splattered all over the now-very-wet pavement, some of which soaked into the wrapper of the once-pristine burger. He furrowed his eyebrows and frowned as he looked at what was supposed to be a nice little midnight snack.
“What a waste,” he muttered, and wobbled up to his feet. Eos checked himself for any scrapes or wounds, but aside from a sore butt and a bruised ego at being caught unaware by a cat, he was fine.
When Eos looked up, however, he’d noticed that the men he was eavesdropping on had stopped whatever they were doing and were now looking at him. Now, with their eyes trained on him, he could actually see their features more clearly.
They all suddenly had crimson-colored eyes, the color of blood, and the only reason Eos noticed was because they shone for the briefest moment when they trained their eyes on him. Didn’t one of them have blue eyes, earlier? And another had green ones, the color of forest foliage. The lanky one who was being surrounded had his teeth bared. No, not teeth—fangs.
Eos gulped. “Holy shit.”
Not only were the men blurs when they moved and fought, but they were…demonic blurs. Beastly blurs. Sexy, unsettling, demonic blurs.
That’s when he realized that the lanky, cornered man—with the eyes of a blood-crazed beast, the fangs of a demon, and the frenzy of an animal with nothing to lose—had broken through the three of them, and was now running straight for Eos.
As Eos closed his eyes and curled into a ball, one final thought came into his head…
I knew I shouldn’t have left the house today.

About the Author:
Frey Ortega writes erotic romance, primarily of the gay variety. He lives in what a friend affectionately calls “the south-easternmost part of Spain,” which is an archipelago called the Philippines. He’s a graduate of the Royal, Pontifical, and Catholic University in Manila, with a Bachelors of Science degree in Psychology. Primarily, he works as a writer, a novelist, sometimes a video game journalist, and overall a homebody who spends way too much time on the internet.

He loves writing about people, especially people of all different shapes, sizes and backgrounds, falling in love. You might also find him playing video games from time to time! His favorite ones are MMORPGs, and role-playing games in general (and not just the ones in the bedroom.)

Visit his website at:
Follow him on social media:
Facebook Group (Frey’s Friends and Follies):

Sunday, February 24, 2019

Bipolar & the Seven Deadly Sins: A Manic Essay

The first panic attack I ever remembered having I think I was around twelve. The details of the triggers or the event itself are hazy. But, oh, how I remember my current ones. I lose time as if I’m outside myself. My brain a misfiring of billions of neurons, I recognize them for the way my skin feels. It’s like it’s not…mine. Foreign and cumbersome, almost like a cheap suit that’s too tight and the legs too short. Millions of bugs crawling beneath my skin. I pick, scratch, attempt to hurt myself for it to go away. It’s only when I skip my count, my prayer beads don’t spin as smoothly as I roll them between trembling thumb and forefinger that the rage starts.

Hallucinations form with the building crescendo of every labored breath—each more ragged and painful than the one before it. Time ceases and I’m frozen, skinning the flesh from my arm, setting myself on fire, removing fingers, and driving 100 miles per hour into oncoming traffic and it doesn’t stop. Seconds, minutes, maybe an hour goes by and I’m back, yet always a piece missing. I know I should feel terrified, no, horrified at what my mind devises for me. Yet I’m not.