In 2024, Dylan Mercer is the rising star of professional hockey, adored by fans and unmatched on the ice. Yet beneath the glitz of his burgeoning career lies a truth Dylan fears could derail everything: he’s gay in a world where he fears coming out could mean the end of his career. After a tough practice session, Dylan’s discovery of a pair of vintage skates in an old locker sends him spiralling back in time to 1980, just before the US Olympic hockey team’s “Miracle on Ice.”
Thrown into an era where the stakes for being himself are even higher, Dylan finds an unexpected ally and more in Nico Santoro, a fellow player with secrets of his own. In the shadow of history, Dylan and Nico forge a bond that defies time, facing down prejudice and fear with the strength found in each other.
As Dylan grapples with his return to the present, he faces an impossible choice: a past world that ultimately learns to love openly because of his and Nico’s courage, or the present where he’s one of the brightest future hockey stars.
“Yeah, Nico. I wouldn’t lie to you. I accidentally came here when I put on a pair of glowing skates, and now I don’t know how to get back…or when. I suspect it will happen soon, but…”
I stared at him with a dubious gaze. What he’d described was impossible. Maybe Kowalski and the guys were behind it all. They could have found a hockey guy from the city and paid him to throw me off.
It was time to challenge Dylan. “Prove it. Show me something futuristic, something undeniable.”
He hesitated for a moment. “My clothes are from 2024.”
I shrugged. “There’s nothing original about them other than sort of whacked-out styles. Jeans are jeans, and the shirt is cotton.”
“Oh,” he whispered, and he shoved his hand into his pocket. I leaned forward, hoping for a surprise. He pulled out the device he’d been holding when he first appeared in the locker room.
“This is a smartphone from 2024,” Dylan announced, puffing his chest out. It’s not just a phone; it’s a little computer that fits in your pocket, and it’s practically a window to the future.”
“Computer? That size?” I scoffed. I couldn’t hide my disbelief, but I also looked closely, thinking about the stories I could tell if I saw something nobody else in my time had seen.
He held the device out toward me. “You don’t believe me? Just watch.”
Everything was silent around us. The earth stood still. Dylan awakened his device, and the screen came to life. I took a step back. In James Bond movies, little machines like that could shoot to kill.
The thing glowed and displayed a bunch of colorful shapes, unlike anything I’d ever seen. It practically screamed modern technology.
My breath caught in my throat as I took a cautious step forward. Could what Dylan called a phone really be a gateway into a new world?
I was about to concede a slight chance that Dylan was telling the truth when the screen flickered, and then it went black. My heart sank.
“What happened? I want to see it. Turn it back on.”
Dylan frowned. “Damn…of course, the battery goes dead right at this minute, and I don’t have my charger.”
Enter the Giveaway
To celebrate the release of Timeless, Declan is giving away 2 e-copies & 2 Paperbacks of the upcoming release!
Enter the Rafflecopter giveaway for your chance to win!
Declan Rhodes is a gay hockey romance author who has written more than 40 novels. He also has published in the past as Grant C. Holland. He lives and works in the Upper Midwest where hockey is a birthright. Wisconsin is his home and the setting for many of his books. This is his fifth hockey romance novel and his first involving time travel.
SYSTEM OVERLOAD – Divorced Men’s Club – Book Five -by Saxon James
Synopsis
Keller
Banging my son’s bestie was a total accident that will never, ever happen again. I’m sure of it.
While he might be gorgeous and caught me in a weak moment, when it comes right down to it, my son has been my entire life for the last twenty-six years. I don’t know how to be anything other than his dad.
But with Molly heading off to Seattle, he leaves me with a parting gift: Will.
His best friend.
And my new roommate.
Still, I’m determined to focus on my plan of finding someone to settle down with and to start living for me.
Then Molly hits me with another gift: he’s asked Will to help find me the perfect partner.
Will
Molly running away across the country and leaving me made one thing very obvious. I crave stability. I crave a life where I get to control what happens to me, without the constant threat of having to move home to my homophobic family.
All I need to focus on is work and making enough money for the downpayment on my own place.
Except now I’m living in the spare bedroom of the man I’ve been in love with for years.
The same bedroom where we had one very messy, very quick accidental frot sesh.
Now I’m cooking for him every night, and we’re working out together every morning. It’s all feeling very domestic and my heart can’t separate reality from the fantasies in my head.
I know I’m going to get hurt.
It’s only a matter of time.
But when it comes to Keller, it’s impossible for me to walk away.
Genre: M/M Later-in-Life Romance Trope: Age-gap, best friend’s dad, roommates to lovers, small-town
“I leave in two weeks,” Molly hisses across the table at me.
I glance around the busy restaurant, trying to avoid his eye. “And?”
“You haven’t worked out anything.”
“Sure I have. My parents said there’s room there for me.” Reluctantly. And I wouldn’t at all be surprised if the room is a tin shack they’ve put together in the backyard.
“We both know it’ll be a nightmare.”
“Well, I don’t have much—”
“Hey, guys,” comes a deep, familiar voice from behind me. “Sorry, I got caught up with work.”
Keller takes the third seat at the table, and all my annoyance funnels away as a rushing sound fills my ears. I’ve been avoiding him since I spent the night at his place, and I was hoping I could leave Kilborough completely without having to set eyes on him again.
Because holy fuck, he looks good. His knee is hovering right by mine under the table, and I have no idea how I can be so hyperaware of something that means sweet fuck all to him. He hardly even glances my way before directing a smile at Molly.
“You already miss me, don’t you?” he teases.
I want to answer with a solid yes, but I keep my jaw clamped tight. Just being in his presence is reminding me of how much I do miss him, how bad it’s going to be when I move, and the ache building in my chest is something I could have done without today.
Molly conveniently didn’t tell me that Keller was gonna be here, which has me on guard. He’s never hidden Keller joining us before.
“I will,” Molly pouts. “I’m going to miss you both.”
“Aww, but we’ll visit you,” I tell him.
Molly snorts. “Good luck getting Dad on a plane.”
“Hey, I could do it,” Keller says defiantly. “Probably.”
I laugh, and the gorgeous bastard sends me a cheeky wink. It reaches deep into my gut and knocks me off center, making me want to ask him to do it again and again.
“I’m so worried you’re going to be lonely without me, Papa Bear,” Molly says.
Keller gives him a bemused look. “Who’s the parent here?”
“Speaking of parents …” Molly flicks me a look, and I’m suddenly all too aware of what’s about to happen.
“Ah, Molly—”
“Will’s moving back in with his! It’s going to be horrible, Dad. They don’t love him like we do.”
Oh.
Holy.
Fuck.
No.
Keller’s head snaps around toward me. “You’re moving?”
“Surprise?”
“I thought you were trying to find somewhere to stay here?”
“I was, and I failed.”
“So you’re both leaving me?”
It’s hard to meet his eyes. “It’s not like I wanna go.”
“So stay.”
“And be homeless?”
“Fuck.” Keller shifts back from the table, and at least seeing him look annoyed about the situation helps feed that stupid lovesick part of my brain.
“Dad has a spare room,” Molly says softly.
He’s staring at his water glass, but there’s no way he could be unaware that his words have brought me and Keller to a standstill.
“No, I couldn’t …” Even if I really, really wanted to.
Molly shrugs and looks up at his dad. “You don’t want him to go, and I don’t want him to go, so …”
Keller thinks it over for way too long to be comfortable. I try to brush it off again, but he shakes his head, and when those dark eyes meet mine, my brain goes offline.
“The room’s yours if you want it.” His lips twitch. “I’m okay with it … if you are.”
He doesn’t need to clarify. Even saying that much with Molly right there is a risk. But I’m following. If I’m okay to go on pretending like nothing happened between us, then so is he.
“Are you sure?” I don’t even want to ask it. Wanna just tell him no and head home and pretend like I’m totally fine with that outcome. But home is the last place I wanna be, and even though living with Keller is my idea of a goddamn nightmare, I’ll do it if it means I get to stay in Kilborough.
Keller grins. “Been a while since I had a roommate. Good idea, Mols.”
Molly looks from his dad to me, but his smile doesn’t reach all the way into his eyes. “Hey, with each other for company, you might even forget to miss me.”
“There’s no way.”
“What he said.” Keller nods my way. “I could never forget you, bub.”
Molly hurries to pick up his menu. “Ready to order?”
I get the feeling that’s not what he wants to say at all, but when I glance over at Keller to see if he’s picked up on anything, I find him looking my way, expression soft.
The butterflies in my gut are out of control.
I’m finding it impossible to believe this might actually be happening.
I loved my life. Sleeping around. No commitments. But my mother kept prying into my love life, wanting to see me happily settled down.
The remedy seemed to magically reveal itself when I stumbled onto Travis, my childhood best friend, on a dating app. When we were in elementary school, we promised to marry each other if we were still single at thirty.
Reconnecting, I proposed we give the pact a real shot. To my surprise, Travis agrees. Somewhere in the midst of planning our wedding, the unthinkable happens. Our feelings for each other become… real.
As the day of our fake marriage grows near, how do I tell Travis I want the real thing and for him to be mine forever?
Kicking it with my Best Friend was another quick, fun read with plenty of sweetness.
This had three tropes I enjoy, friends to lovers, second chance and fake marriage, except in Parker & Travis’ case they figured out their true feelings just before they got married.
I liked both of these guys and was really glad they got to reconnect through a dating app and that their friendship was able to pick back up quickly after years apart. Their decision to get married for a couple of reasons, they’d made a pact when they were young and their families and friends gave them both a hard time about settling down, which seemed super quick, but ultimately they got their HEA and that’s all that mattered.
This was a sweet no angst read which is what I enjoy about the Out and Kickin’ series.
Exclusive excerpt from Kicking It with My Best Friend
I’m in. But if we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it the right way.”
He furrowed his brow. “The right way?”
“Yep. I want rings and a full-on wedding. I want to be involved in the wedding planning. I want to have our parents there. It’ll make them happy, and I can’t imagine getting married without our folks there. Mom would murder me if I ran off and got married without including her. Shelby’s kids as flower girls or ring bearers or whatever. And a reception, like you said. A big party.” He was nodding as I talked, so I kept going. “And you’re right, let’s take a vacation after. A… honeymoon.”
He smirked, and my stomach fluttered and flipped. “Does this mean we get to have a wedding night, too?” Parker winked and immediately my cheeks blazed with heat.
I looked down at my hands and my nearly empty coffee cup. “We’ll have to see about that,” I hedged.
“What?” Parker protested. “If we’re going to have a wedding, we should definitely have a wedding night, don’t you think?” His grin spread wider. I couldn’t tell if he was teasing or serious, but either way, I couldn’t have blushed harder if I’d tried.
My breathing tightened and my heart pounded, my cheeks flaming hot and my ears burning. He didn’t know—couldn’t know—that I was a virgin, and it really didn’t feel like the right time or place to tell him. I looked at him, a forced grin plastered on my face. “If you play your cards right, maybe.”
Excerpt
I crawled into bed and stared mindlessly at my phone. Instead of turning to social media, I turned to Fyre, a dating app I’d used before to find hookups. I hadn’t logged into the app in months, and the first thing I did was update my profile, including a few new selfies and one of me at the beach, showing off my cut abs. I didn’t work out at the gym four days a week for nothing. Once that was taken care of, I started swiping to find a match. I swiped for several minutes, left, left, left, right, left. I was being picky, but it didn’t matter. I could be as picky or forgiving as I wanted to be. It was my dick and my ass on the line. I was ready to give up and call it a night when I swiped one last time. The picture that popped up was not just familiar, it was instantly recognizable. The guy had wavy, short brown hair, green eyes, and a square jaw covered in stubble. I knew that guy. It was Travis Weston, standing on a mountaintop somewhere. My eyes widened in surprise. Just like his social media pictures showed, he’d grown up to be super hot. Just the type to bring home to Mom and fuck senseless afterward. “I’ll be damned,” I murmured. Swipe right.
Enter the Giveaway
To celebrate the release of Kicking It With My Best Friend, Riley is giving away 3 e-copies of the release!
Enter the Rafflecopter giveaway for your chance to win!
I’ve been out and proud for years, happily living my truth. Never did I imagine I would be asked to step back into the closet.
Until that night at the club.
After one too many cocktails, I ended up in a bathroom stall enjoying a hot and steamy tryst with a super sexy guy named Nate. We exchanged numbers and indulged in some spicy sexting.
But when I asked him to meet up again, he ghosted me.
I tried distracting myself by acting as a friend’s plus one to a wedding. Who do I see standing next to the groom, looking like a snack? Nate. He claims no one knows he’s gay and asks me to be discreet. Still, my years of hiding are behind me. Can I help him find the strength to come out to his family and friends? Or will his reservations be too big an obstacle to overcome?
Check out Book 2: Kicking it with My Best Friend – Out and Kickin’, Book 2
I woke up in Vegas with a hangover and a ring on my finger.
At my last recollection, the bachelor party was off to a great start. During dinner I met sexy celebrity Chef Oliver who was far more intriguing than his surly public persona let on.
Afterwards, my buddies and I set out to bar-hop at some of Sin City’s biggest hot spots. To my surprise, I ran into Oliver again as he was unwinding by tossing back drinks at a bar. What followed was a hot night of dancing and drinking… and a very confusing morning.
Not only did we spend the night together, we got married. Oliver is quick to suggest divorce, but I’m not ready to give up so easily. We may be opposites in every way imaginable, but there’s a chemistry between us I can’t deny or ignore.
Can I convince Oliver to give our unlikely romance a chance? Or will what happened in Vegas end in Vegas?
Riley Long is an author of gay romances novels spanning many genres from contemporary to paranormal. They live a quiet life in Virginia, with their husband, son, and two very silly pit bulls.
They spend their evenings writing, reading, and watching bad television (or not so bad television).
For fun, Riley participates in NaNoWriMo, GISH, and reads with her book club, the BAMFs.
They like things with silly acronyms.
Riley can tell you two different stories about getting covered in dairy products for a hug.
Protecting His Past → Guarding Royalty Book 1 by Elouise East
~Synopsis~
His secrets catch up with him, but luckily, protection is in his blood.
Dominic has big shoes to fill. His promotion to the Lead Protection Officer for the king came at a price no one wants to think about. However, it’s something he is very aware of. When his past comes calling, he has to make even more split-second decisions, and he’s terrified of the potential consequences. Not for himself, but for those he cares about and protects. Including a certain PA who’s never too far from his thoughts.
Randall has been the King’s personal assistant for many years. It’s long hours and extremely busy, but he loves it. Even after being held prisoner by a twisted man hell bent on revenge, it didn’t diminish his love for the job or the people he works for. But he never imagined falling in love. Especially with someone ten years younger than him. But love is love, right?
When Dominic’s secret comes to light, he has to shore his defences against those people who would use it against him. And the harder he falls for Randall, the more chinks in his armour appear.
How can he keep everyone safe when the clock is ticking?
Protecting His Past is a kinky, age gap romance with a handsome, secretive bodyguard and a personal assistant, who thinks he’s too old for love.
Genre: Contemporary, BDSM
Trope: Bodyguard Romance, Age Gap, Workplace Romance, Hurt/Comfort
Protecting His Past is the first book in a spin-off series to the Club Royal series, I haven’t read many of those, but they are waiting on my Kindle for me, I do think however that while it may be nice to know some of the characters from the previous series, you can easily read this as a standalone series.
I enjoy a good romantic suspense read and Elouise does a good job of slowly unravelling the secrets that Dominic and his sister May have been keeping along with who is the person behind the threats to Dominic and his family and Randall who gets caught up in the danger due to his new relationship status with Dominic.
The chemistry between Dominic and Randall was great and I enjoyed watching them admit how they were feeling and then take steps to move their relationship into a romance rather than a friendship and working relationship.
Randall is much stronger than he gives himself credit for, he is still recovering from the violent situation that went down in the previous series (I haven’t read it and felt there was enough information given to understand what went down) and he doesn’t have the greatest self-esteem in some aspects of his life. But he really steps up when needed and shows the inner strength he has.
I liked Dominic a great deal also and I liked that he didn’t need to play the lone hero for most of the time and relied on his team to help him keep his sister safe and to work out who was behind the danger and why.
I am looking forward to the next book in the Guarding Royalty series.
Excerpt
“Good morning. How can I help?” he asked.
Dominic stopped in front of his desk. Randall peered up at him, wanting to stand but knowing it wouldn’t help with their height difference. The crease between his eyes was more pronounced than usual, and his stubble was longer than normal. The suit he wore every day was missing, and in its place were jeans and a polo shirt, things Randall didn’t think he’d ever seen him in.
When Dominic’s hazel eyes met his blue ones, his heart skipped a beat. “I wanted to thank you for what you did for me last night.”
Randall shook his head. “I didn’t do anything.” Dominic lifted his eyebrow, and Randall’s cheeks heated. “Okay, maybe I did a couple of small things, but that’s it.”
“Regardless of whether you think it’s small or not, you helped get my sister out of there, and I appreciate it more than you know.”
“How is she?”
“She’s okay. Scared, frustrated, pissed, and everything in between.” He huffed a laugh.
“Can I ask what happened?” He wasn’t sure he should ask, but he was nosey. Especially when it came to Dominic, not that he would ever tell him that.
“Her ex was abusive, and he eventually got caught up with the wrong people. He became a mule, amongst other things, and May testified against them all. She went into witness protection when she received death threats. That was five years ago. I haven’t seen or heard from her in all that time. Until last night.” He fidgeted, staring at his hands. “Someone found her through her handler. He was the only one who knew her old and new identity, as far as I’m aware.”
“Was?”
Dominic’s gaze met his. “The police found him dead. Tortured.”
Randall’s stomach churned. He was so sick of this shit. Why couldn’t everyone just live happily and leave everyone else alone?
Dominic chuckled. “It would be nice, wouldn’t it?”
Randall frowned, then closed his eyes. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
“It’s okay. You’re completely right. Unfortunately, it comes with our territory, doesn’t it?” He scratched his chin. “Well, mine, anyway.”
“You have the royal family behind you now. That should make it easier to protect her.”
Dominic shook his head. “I’m not bringing them into this more than I already have. It’s my family; therefore, I need to deal with it.”
Randall’s mouth twitched as he tried to keep from smiling. “Good luck with that.”
There was no way Dominic would be dealing with this alone if Randall knew the royal family at all. They were probably already working on trying to find whoever was after May, and he doubted it would take them long with how many contacts they had. Although saying that, they struggled when it had been Ernest, their own family member—even if he was family only through his marriage to Charlotte.
Randall shook away the thought and refocused on Dominic. “If you need help, ask. Don’t go putting your life in danger because of your ego.”
Dominic glared at him, but Randall didn’t take offence. “I don’t have an ego.”
“Well, you do, but not much of one. But this is your family, Dominic. All bets are off when family is involved.”
Dominic nodded slowly and then got to his feet. “Thank you, Randall. I appreciate your help, and I know everyone around here does, too.”
Randall’s face heated again, and he ducked his head. “No problem. I’m here if you need anything.” Absolutely anything.
Dominic smiled and left the office, and Randall blew out a breath and leaned back, staring at the door. He had given up all hope of romance or relationships in his life, but it didn’t stop him from dreaming about it. And he refused to admit how often Dominic played into those dreams. The man was ten years younger than him, and he had his whole life ahead of him. Randall was just waiting for retirement, and even then, he probably wouldn’t retire until he was unable to do the job any longer. He loved working for the Sutcliffes, but it didn’t leave much time for a social or romantic life. He was happy, though. He could deal with the loneliness if it meant he could do this job every day.
About The Author
Elouise East writes sweet and steamy connections in gay romance. She also touches on taboo stories under the name Elouise R East.
Books that tell stories where friendship and family are the focal point – be it blood family or chosen – are very important to her. That’s why she includes a variety of personalities, talents, ages, situations and abilities as she believes a story or character needs. She wants her characters to be real, to be relatable, to be free to have whatever views they tell her they have. And trust her, most of the time, she does not have any say in the matter! Her characters come to life on the page for her as well as her readers. Their stories unfold in front of her as she writes, and she has very little input into how they want to be shown. Just like in real life, the lives of her characters change with every choice, every interaction and every conversation. And she wouldn’t have it any other way. She writes books that are emotionally realistic, even if liberties are taken with other aspects of the stories. She doesn’t know any other way to write. It comes from deep inside.
Who is she? A single parent to two children living in the UK. An avid reader who still tries to devour every book she can get her hands on. A student of learning about any subject that takes her fancy. An author of books she would read herself. And a romantic at heart who loves anything cheesy.
BLUE SKIES – Blue Skies – Book Oneby Marie Sinclair
Synopsis
Greg loves his job as a flight attendant. If only his love life could make him as happy, he’d be all set. Asexual and HIV-positive, Greg has had a series of untrustworthy boyfriends who saw him as a challenge or told him they could accept his sexuality and status. Until they couldn’t. Still reeling from his latest breakup, Greg’s romantic heart beats a little faster when he meets Holden at a club, even though his brain whispers caution.
For Holden, relationships are something he can’t afford. He’s been in the closet his entire adult life because it could cost him his job if anyone finds out he’s gay. At forty-eight, hook-ups, one-night stands, and quickies in a bathroom are as good as it gets for him. It’s all he’s looking for when he goes to Neon. Instead, he finds Greg.
Drawn to each other from the start, the two experience a bit of a bumpy take-off. But then Holden ends up on Greg’s flight to Denver. When they’re both stranded in the city because of a snowstorm, Holden offers to share his hotel room with Greg. A night together becomes an all-day date. The date becomes a visit to Greg’s parents in Aspen, and both men start to believe they might have found the one person for whom they’re willing to make the ultimate leap of faith.
This book contains sassy flight attendants, bookstore dates, couples massages, and pining. It features a sex-positive asexual MC and a closeted flight instructor who learns how to spread his wings and soar into the blue skies.
Content Warnings: There is a single mention of nonconsensual forced orgasm and stealthing experienced by one of the MCs in previous relationships.
Holden held out his hand, and Greg took it, feeling an unfamiliar tension in his chest as his palm connected with the other man’s. Startled, he looked up and found his gaze was met by lively hazel eyes. “Greg,” he offered, but his voice was too soft to be heard over the noise. He cleared his throat and tried again, this time with more success.
The guy was older than Greg’s thirty-three by at least a decade, though he wore it well. A real silver fox with gorgeous dark hair sprinkled with gray. He was clean-shaven, but had the rugged look of a guy who spent his weekends rock climbing or hiking rather than cruising bars, and the way he carried himself with squared shoulders and a direct gaze… If Greg had a type, Holden was it.
A tug on his hand made Greg realize he hadn’t let go yet, and he tried to pull away, but Holden held on and nudged him forward toward the bar.
“I spent all night waiting for someone like you, I’m not going to let you get away now that I’ve found you,” he smiled. It was the kind of line that should have made Greg wince, but instead he laughed.
“You spend a lot of time coming up with a line like that?” Greg asked.
Holden smiled and shrugged. “Nope. You inspired me.”
Still laughing, Greg stepped up to the bar to order everyone’s drinks. He glanced over his shoulder and asked Holden what he wanted, adding a Manhattan to the list.
He tried to think of something to say while they waited, but Greg was really out of his element. Holden definitely ticked his boxes for physical attractiveness, and based on the way Holden was eyeing him, he did the same for Holden.
Over the years, Greg had figured out the signs that someone was attracted to him — something that had completely eluded him when he was younger. When he saw them, he could mimic signs of interest, but the kind of I-want-to-get-naked-with-you attraction didn’t happen for him. He wasn’t sex-repulsed or anything like that, he just rarely felt sexual desire. He also needed emotional connection, trust, and a genuine sense that this person would take care of him. It was a lot to ask of a hook-up. It was also a lot to ask of himself since Mason.
Greg’s phone buzzed again with an incoming text, and he retrieved it from his back pocket, wincing again at the sight of the cracked screen. The message was from Ricky, letting him know he was taking off with someone and not to wait up for him. Greg started to text back, but the cracked screen caught at his fingertips, so he just turned the phone off and slid it back into his pocket.
Holden leaned close enough he could speak into Greg’s ear. “For a moment, I was worried you were getting a better offer.”
Even with the wild variety of colognes and aftershave and body wash assaulting his nose, Greg could detect a scent he knew was Holden’s. It was musky and warm, not assaultive in the way so many men’s products were, and Greg knew it must be expensive. The kind of scent businessmen flying first class wore that spoke of tailored suits and leather accessories, smoky Scottish whisky and expensive cigars.
Greg turned toward Holden. His hazel eyes sparkled in the lights from the bar’s impressive display of high-end spirits and the neon that edged the bar top, and Greg decided to take Micah’s advice. He could have a drink with Holden and ask the man to dance. It didn’t have to be the start of something.
“I don’t think anyone could give me a better offer tonight,” Greg said.
Marie Sinclair is a queer writer living in San Francisco. Though she’s been a writer all her life, it wasn’t until she stumbled upon MM romance that she knew she’d found a home for herself and all the characters in her head.
Her focus is on contemporary romance, usually on the steamy side. While HEAs are guaranteed, it will always take some work for the couples to get there, and it might not look the way they expected at the beginning. As a member of the LGBTQ+ community, Marie believes in rooting her stories in the real world of queer culture and showing how love can survive even in challenging times.
CLUELESS PUCKBOYPuckboys – Book Fiveby Eden Finley & Saxon James
Release Date: October 5, 2023
Synopsis
QUINN
Straining my groin is bad enough. It puts my hockey career, my future, but even worse, my dignity on the line.
Having to get massages in that area from Vance Landon, one of the team trainers, is mortifying.
It’s impossible to hide my feelings toward him. If my constant blushing and bumbling doesn’t give it away, my body does.
It’s getting to the point where I wonder if hockey is even worth the embarrassment.
Trying to avoid him only makes him seek me out more. He’s determined to rehab my injury, but all I want is for him to leave me alone.
Or fall for me.
One or the other.
VANCE
Ayri Quinn isn’t your typical jock … except for the fact he refuses to admit when he’s injured.
I’ve seen more than enough professional sportsmen lose the career they love due to injury, and I’m not having it happen again.
Especially not when the guy in question happens to be the sweetest, most awkward, innocent jock I’ve ever met.
When a night out leads to Quinn reinjuring himself, I create a care plan that keeps me hands on, literally. Unfortunately, working with him in close proximity brings all those feelings I’ve been trying to ignore to the surface.
I just need to get him better so he can be back on the ice and out of my bed.
Ah, my massage bed.
Because if this goes on any longer, I might mean my actual bed.
Ayri Quinn is impossible to resist.
Genre: M/M Sports Romance Trope: Workplace romance, player/trainer, close proximity, hockey
Quinn pulls to a fast stop, but his reaction time is slow. The stop, awkward, like he’s favoring his right side. It’s barely recognizable unless you’re looking for it, but it’s enough to tell me that bricks-for-brains is pushing through an injury.
Goddamn jocks never learn.
I’ve seen more than a handful of professional careers cut short, and it wasn’t due to injury. It all came down to sheer stupidity. Quinn’s adductor can be healed and strengthened, but if he won’t admit there’s an issue, I can’t help him. And I get it. This toxic mindset that to play hockey, you need to be invincible. If you take a skate to the face or rupture a ball sac, you slap on a Band-Aid and skate harder in the next period.
It’s possibly the only part of hockey I hate. Glorifying them putting their bodies on the line.
I drum my hands on my crossed arms while watching his every move, and no matter how many times Quinn puts on the brakes—whether it’s gradual or sudden—I’m convinced he’s being a moron.
We scrape through with the W, thanks to Dalton chipping the puck into the top corner while Boston’s goalie is looking the other way, and the crowd is absolutely loving the win. The team piles on each other, and it’s ridiculous how adorable I find the bear hug, but I’ll be keeping that thought to myself. Can’t go around emasculating the giant men with knife shoes and no teeth.
Normally I’d take off as soon as the game is over or, if it’s been a busy night, jump in and help Boone out, but tonight, I’ve got my sights set on Quinn. That little fucker is going to admit to me that he’s in pain because I can’t see another player lose everything because I didn’t want to step in. It’s not even my personal interest in him driving me; I’d do the same for any player. He’s one of the last off the ice, Dalton by his side as usual, and I fall into step beside them.
“Good game.”
Dalton grunts, and Quinn doesn’t say anything.
It makes my lips struggle with a smile. “How was your injury?”
“Ferfect.” Quinn’s eyes fly wide, and that ridiculous color splotches across his cheeks. “I mean, pine. I mean …” A frustrated sound is strangled by this throat. “Everything. Is. Okay.”
Do not laugh, do not laugh. Stay professional. He’s adorable. But this is business time.
Dalton doesn’t have my issues. He sniggers, and Quinn shoves him, so Dalton pushes back harder. I barely catch Quinn before he can body-slam me into the wall. With his skates on, he’s got an inch or so height on me, and the padding makes him seem enormous, but it looks like he’s trying to shrink into it.
I’m used to touching his body, but not unexpectedly like this, and I let go quickly.
Quinn sends a bucketload of tension Dalton’s way while Dalton strolls along, ignoring it. My hands are in my pockets as I keep pace, wondering how to make this guy spill.
“No issues with acceleration?”
He shakes his sweaty head.
“What about turns?”
“Nope.”
Lying through his teeth. Wonderful. “And stops? They were smooth? Not at all painful?”
His hazel-gold eyes cut to mine. “Fine.”
We reach the locker room, and I put out an arm to silently hold Quinn back while Dalton enters.
I wait until the whole team has passed, then turn to him. “Here’s the thing; I don’t believe you.”
His stubborn mask slips, and he goes from big, bad hockey man to … nope, not adorable. Just Quinn. “What?”
“I was watching you out there. You weren’t skating like you normally do.”
“You, uh …” His lips twitch. “Watch? Me?”
“It’s my job.”
“Oh, yeah, totally, that’s obviously what I mean.”
How the hell does this guy get through press conferences? “Do you know where I worked before here?”
“No …”
“College football. The star running back on our team was having issues with his ACL. He’d had two minor tears, and there was talk of pulling him for the season until he’d been through rehab. He refused. I knew he wasn’t healed, but he swore black and blue that he was fine. He tore that fucker right up halfway through the season, and like that—” I snap my fingers. “—career over. Goodbye, NFL. He never even got the chance to play in the big leagues. He didn’t know what was truly on the line. You do.”
Quinn swallows thickly, looking like a kicked puppy.
“He wasn’t the first we lost to injury, but he was the first where I had a hunch he was bullshitting me.” I narrow my eyes at Quinn and his guilty expression. This poor guy is a terrible liar. “Just like I have a hunch you are.”
He clears his throat and shrugs, trying for an effortless smile. “I’m all good. Nothing to worry about here.”
I grit my teeth. “Keep lying, dickhead. I’ll get it out of you.”
“Are you allowed to talk to me like that?”
“You gonna tattle on me?” I tilt my head. “Because if you did, I’d have to tell them why I accused you of lying.”
Yeah, he doesn’t like that. Just like I knew he wouldn’t. But too many young, stubborn guys make the wrong choice, and I’m so fucking done watching it happen. It’s their career that they’re gambling with, and I get that’s their issue and not mine, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to sit back and do nothing.
“If I have any issues, I’ll let you know,” he says.
“No, you won’t.” I lean in. “But I’ll be watching closely, Quinn. And I’m sharing my concerns with Boone.”
“Wha—but. Do you have to? Like …”
Fuck me. His flustering is cute, but the goal here is to make sure he has a career to be pulled from, not stress him the fuck out.
“I’m putting together a training plan for you. Got it?”
He hurries to nod.
“And I want you back on my bed at least once a week so I can check up on tightness. Agreed?”
“Yep. Bed. Tight. Fine.”
I repeat my mantra not to laugh and cuff him on the shoulder pads instead. “I can work with that.”
“All right.”
“Good.”
“Fine.”
I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t resist. “Ferfect.”
Eden Finley is an Amazon bestselling author who writes steamy contemporary romances that are full of snark and light-hearted fluff.
She doesn’t take anything too seriously and lives to create an escape from real life for her readers. The ideas always begin with a wackadoodle premise, and she does her best to turn them into romances with heart.
With a short attention span that rivals her son’s, she writes multiple different pairings: MM, MMF, and MF.
She’s also an Australian girl and apologises for her Australianisms that sometimes don’t make sense to anyone else.
Which wouldn’t be a problem, except he’s straight.
What happened is, my longtime crush/hero got badly injured saving me from my evil ex-boyfriend. When I found out he (my hero, not my ex) didn’t have health insurance, I did the logical thing: I proposed. To my surprise, he said yes.
I knew that Camden wasn’t interested in me like that. This deal was always meant to be temporary—just until he healed and could get his own insurance and I found a place to stay, since I’m not moving back in with my ex. No feelings involved.
Except Cam kissed me at our wedding ceremony, and ever since, we can’t seem to stop kissing. He says he’s curious what sex with a man would be like, but I don’t want to be another straight guy’s experiment.
Still, Cam is so kind and beautiful, with his dark eyes and tousled curls shoved into a backward baseball cap. His patience makes me want to throw out all my carefully crafted rules. And don’t get me started on how his first instinct is to protect me …
But I’m scared if I open my heart, I’m going to get hurt. Again.
Can I risk telling Cam how I feel before our deal ends? Or should I let him go and lose the best (fake) relationship I’ve ever had?
Curious is a stand-alone contemporary M/M romance novel with a marriage of convenience and bisexual awakening. It features Shelby, a receptionist who’s never met a vision board he didn’t like; Camden, an internet-famous contractor; and a hasty wedding for medical insurance reasons. Happy ever after guaranteed.
His cheeks redden. “I guess I never thought I’d be spending my wedding night by myself.”
“Oh.” Oh. I make a fast decision. “Give me a few, and I’ll join you,” I say. “If you don’t mind,” I hasten to add. “And we won’t do anything. Just sleep. Maybe kiss, if you want. But if it will make you feel right, then we should do it.”
He holds up his hand. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I don’t want to be alone on my wedding night, either,” I admit.
His gaze softens, and warmth rushes into my chest.
“I’ll be there after I brush my teeth?” I ask.
Shelby swallows hard and nods, and my heart is in my throat. “Okay, see you then,” he says.
A few minutes later, I’m stepping out into the night, swinging on my crutches. Frogs croak, and a car drives past on the street out front, but it’s pretty quiet otherwise.
I knock gently on the guesthouse door, and in a moment, Shelby opens it. His hair is a mess like it never is during the day, his spun sugar hair going every which way. He’s clearly washed his face and brushed his teeth, smelling minty again. Now that his makeup is gone, his bruising is more visible. I really wish I’d hurt Evan more.
“Um,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck.
He opens his arms. “Come here.”
I step forward, and he wraps his arms around my waist. He’s shorter and much smaller than I am, but I like him holding me. It feels like I can shelter him but that he’s keeping me up, too.
He takes my hand and pulls me toward the bed. After I settle my crutches to the side, within easy reach, I take off my shirt and strip down to my boxer briefs, then crawl into his bed, which is newer and better than mine. I’d intended it for future Airbnb guests, but I’m glad Shelby gets to use it now.
Shelby mutters something under his breath, then takes off his leggings and slides in next to me, wearing his T-shirt and briefs.
There’s a moment where we both look up at the ceiling, and then I flop over and beckon to him. “C’mere,” I say.
He grins and snuggles up next to me. I reach behind me to turn off the light.
Holding him in my arms, my head on his soft pillow, I watch as he drifts to sleep.
Shelby’s platinum hair gleams in the moonlight, and his warm weight against my body feels right. I’m a little scared to move, not wanting to touch him more than I’m allowed. He’s this combination of soft and hard—velvety skin, lean muscle. It’s entrancing. But I keep my hands where they are and tug him closer to me.
I think about the day.
I’m married. To a man. This man.
It seems I really picked a good one, for not knowing him very well. With his scent relaxing me, as well as the security of knowing I’m going to get medical care, I drift off, too.
Review
I adored Shelby and Camden’s story, it was sweet, low angst and a pleasure to read. Sometimes I read just to escape and Curious definitely helped me do that.
When it first started and Camden stepped in to protect Shelby, I thought it was sweet but unnecessary for him to get in the ex’s face since Shelby had already gotten out of the house. Despite this I loved the rest of the story, I always enjoy a good fake marriage romance, combined with a bi-awakening where the MC doesn’t freak out, this was perfect for me.
Shelby’s friends and workmates and Camden’s siblings and parents were wonderfully supportive which is just how it should be in real life (if only).
I didn’t like Camden’s ex and thought she was pretty fickle and if I were him I’d have wiped my hands of her. Shelby’s mother was also a horrible character and I’d have deleted her from my life, in my opinion regardless if a person is family, if they don’t add anything positive to your life it is better to let them go.
I adored Shelby and Camden’s fake relationship that became anything but and really loved seeing them get to know each other and fall for each other, accepting the other for who they were and sharing those things they enjoyed.
I do love a HEA.
Excerpt
Everyone in the room is looking at us, just the way we were looking at the couples before us.
I regulate my breathing. My ankle hurts, but I set that pain to the side. My cheeks are burning, and my hands are trembling. I’m glad my brother is here. I’ve set my crutches down and taken hold of Shelby’s hands. They’re clammy, and I’m trying to warm them up. They’re also steadying me.
But then he looks up at me with those liquid brown eyes, and my chest feels light. My pulse races, and my mouth goes dry.
After asking us a few more questions, the clerk begins the ceremony. “Do you, Camden, take this man, Shelby, to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer, to have and to hold from this day forward until death do you part?”
“I do.” I say, and I squeeze Shelby’s hands. He gives me a small, genuine smile.
“Do you, Shelby, take this man, Camden—”
Holy ____, I’m getting married. I don’t know why it took this long for it to sink in. Something about that fact makes me giddy, and I want to burst out laughing, but I rein it in. Shelby says, “I do,” and I let out the biggest breath. Part of me—the part still traumatized by Leah—worried that he’d say no. I want to hug him for saying yes. For not humiliating me.
“You may exchange rings, if you have them.”
“Oh. Right.” I pull the two bands out of my pocket, and my fingers tremble all over again.
Reaching over, I again take Shelby’s soft, tan hand in my work-roughened one, and my jitters vanish when he looks up at me, an expression of wonder on his face, his eyes brimming with tears. He swallows, and I want to hug him or something.
Instead, I place my ring on his finger.
It looks good there, and this possessive feeling—that Shelby is mine—rushes through me, even if our situation is temporary.
For now, at least, he is mine.
Shelby slips my ring onto my finger. I’m not used to wearing jewelry, but it feels right. Like it’s always been there. And I like being able to give Shelby some stability … for now.
We hold hands, and I can’t tell if he’s supporting me while my ankle is busted, or I’m supporting him on this wild adventure. Maybe we’re supporting each other.
“… and you may kiss your husband,” the clerk says, and I have to keep from doing a double take.
Of course, I knew this was a standard part of the ceremony. Heck, I just watched a couple go through this exact process. And I have no problem kissing Shelby—even in front of an audience—but, like actually being married, the reality of it hadn’t gone through my brain.
About the Author:
USA Today bestselling author Leslie McAdam is a California girl who loves romance and well-defined abs. She lives in a drafty old farmhouse on a small orange tree farm in Southern California with her husband and two children. Leslie’s first published book, The Sun and the Moon, won a 2015 Watty, which is the world’s largest online writing competition. She’s gone on to receive additional literary awards and has been featured in multiple publications, including Cosmopolitan.com. Her books have been Top 100 Bestsellers on both Amazon and Apple Books. Leslie is employed by day but spends her nights writing about the men of your fantasies.
Crawshank’s Guide to the Recently Departed, Book 3
Tristan Everett was finally getting used to the strangeness that was his life. Being able to see the dead and helping them solve their unfinished business and cross into the light wasn’t so bad after all, especially when he was accompanied by his best friend, dead drag queen Dusty Le Frey. His boyfriend, sexy Scotland Yard detective Danny Hayes, now knew the truth about Tristan’s “gift,” and they were about to move in together officially.
Life was good.
That is until Death—honest to god, Death (aka The Grim Reaper)—pitches up in Tristan’s kitchen with an unusual request: stop Dusty’s ghostly hookup Bruce from crossing into the light, which may result in dire consequences. i.e an accidental apocalypse.
Determined to do the exact opposite, and avoid potentially the end of the world, Tristan and Danny assemble their own ragtag gang of one prickly witch, one snarky psychic private investigator, one living drag queen with an affinity for feathers, and one dead one with an affinity for a deceased rugby player in tiny shorts. Together they must solve a forty-year-old cold case, while juggling a dose of the flu, a broken leg, a supernatural storm, and an immortal death deity with the looks and temperament of a sexy but grouchy CEO.
I am enjoying this series so much, I love the whole cast of regular characters and enjoy getting to know them all better in each book. Tristan and Danny are such a cute couple and I love how supportive and loving they are with each other.
Danny has handled all of the surprises involving the afterlife that Tristan told him about last time and he continues to take everything in his stride no matter how out there things get.
This time Tristan and his friends, the group is growing, need to save the world from chaos who is trying to drown them all in a supernatural storm that is wreaking havoc on the city. They also need to uncover the mystery behind Bruce’s death, his bones have been uncovered after nearly 4 decades and he can’t remember anything, I had no idea what they were going to uncover about his death and it took me by surprise when it was revealed, something that I always like.
Once again there is plenty of humour and I loved the inclusion of Death as a new character, he was totally clueless about how to behave despite being around for aeons. Someone described this series as a paranormal rom-com and I think that fits well. I am looking forward to the next book which is sure o bring more surprises and mysteries.
Excerpt
“I don’t like leaving you while you’re this sick though.” Danny frowns again. “Maybe I should call Chan? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on you until I get home.”
For a moment I almost say yes. The thought of Chan keeping me company if Danny can’t be here is very appealing. God, when did I get so needy? I’ve spent years on my own, having to take care of not only my dad but myself.
A resigned sigh escapes my lips. “Danny, I’m sick, not six. I don’t need a babysitter,” I say reluctantly. “Besides, she’s been rehearsing all week for her new number at The Rainbow Room, and as much as she loves me, I can’t imagine she’ll be happy if she catches the flu from me the day before opening night.”
“Fine,” he huffs. “But you’ll call me if you need anything? I can pop home during my lunch break.”
“No, don’t,” I croak, listening to the howl of the wind and the constant downpour outside the bedroom window. “It’s probably not a good idea to go out in the storm any more than you have to.”
“I’m going to get you some water and some paracetamol. Do you want me to make you a cup of tea before I go?”
“’Kay.” My eyes close.
The bed jiggles again as Danny stands, his footsteps echoing as he crosses the room. Gathering up what little strength I have, I push myself up and flop unceremoniously onto my back, reaching out with one hand and fumbling on the bedside table for the box of tissues.
There’s a loud clatter, causing me to open my eyes as I knock the lamp over and several items, probably including my glasses, tumble to the floor. Feeling my fingers graze the cardboard box, I grasp hold of it and pull it over.
A quiet whine of misery escapes my mouth as the change of position shifts the pressure in my sinuses. Giving up on trying to actually blow my nose, I settle for jamming a tissue up each nostril to stem the constant drip.
Leaving the tissue box sitting on my chest, my hand flops back onto the bed and I lay diagonally across the mattress like a starfish. My eyes drift closed again, and I feel the flutter of the tissues “against my top lip while my mouth hangs open so I can breathe.
Danny re-enters the room. As always, he has impeccable timing. “You have never looked more sexy.”
Enter the Giveaway
To celebrate the release of Dead Serious 3, Vawn is giving away a signed paperback of the winner’s choice from the Crawshanks Guide to the Recently Deceased Series!
Enter the Rafflecopter giveaway for your chance to win!
Go back to where it all began with Crawshank’s Guide to the Recently Departed, Book 1
Tristan Everett had always preferred the company of the dead because they were quiet and didn’t talk back. As a slightly awkward introvert working as a pathologist at the Hackney Public Mortuary suited him just fine. That is, until a freak accident with a rogue ice cube and suddenly he can see ghosts. No longer content to just lie on the table and let him figure out how they died, they’re now peering over his shoulder critiquing his work and confessing their most lascivious sins before skipping off merrily into the afterlife.
Just when he thought his life couldn’t get any weirder, London’s most infamous drag queen, Miz Dusty Le Frey, is wheeled in with a toe tag and she’s not prepared to go quietly into the light. Not only is she furious at the prospect of spending eternity in last season’s gold lamé, she’s determined that he help her solve her murder.
Suddenly Tristan finds himself thrown into a world of sequins and fake eyelashes, and worse still, he may have developed a crush on Scotland Yard’s brand new drool-worthy detective, Inspector Danny Hayes, who’s been assigned to Dusty’s murder. Oh, and the killer now wants him dead too…
All he ever wanted was a simple life but suddenly he’s juggling work, a deliciously sexy detective, a stubborn ghost and a relentless murderer… and things have just gotten dead serious….
Vawn Cassidy is an MM author living in the UK. She’s often known for her world-building skills and sense of humour. She loves to write in different genres and has penned contemporary romance, paranormal mystery/romance and dark historical with a supernatural twist.
You can sign up to her mailing list by visiting her website, she can also be found on social media.
THE CHARMERThe Vers Podcast Series – Book Four by Riley Hart
Synopsis
If you listen to The Vers, a queer podcast I host with my three best friends, you know me as The Charmer. I’m always happy, flirting, and trying to win everyone over. I think most people would be surprised to learn I have a lot more going on beneath the surface.
But ever since all my friends have fallen in love, it’s getting more difficult not to feel left out…
Cue my fascination with Spencer, my neighbor who hates me. There’s something addicting about getting under his skin, and I blame the combination of my confusing emotions and too many drinks for spilling my guts to him about all my insecurities…and about how much I love cuddling.
Turns out, Spencer doesn’t hate me, and my word vomit is the catalyst that makes us decide to be cuddle buddies. When I need affection, I go to him, and he just…holds me. Along the way we become friends, and when I fall for him, it’s surprising that he feels the same. Spencer’s easy to talk to, fun to be around, and did I mention he’s hot? I love how confident he is in his full figure, and there’s nothing like being in his beefy arms.
Spencer has me wanting more for the first time in my life, and he’s determined to help with my disordered eating, but if I want a healthy future with him, I need to work toward being healthy for myself too.
The Charmer is an opposites-attract romance with a body-positive MC and a cuddle fiend learning to love himself.
The Charmer deals with disordered eating, low self-esteem, and negative talk about weight. While the story is uplifting and none of these are heavy-handed, please see content warning for a full list.
Genre: MM Romance Standalone Trope: Opposites attract, frenemies to cuddle buddies to lovers, size difference, no-strings-attached cuddling, found family, body positive MC
When his phone made a familiar noise, I cocked a playful brow at him. “One of your boyfriend prospects?” I asked, though it was clearly a hookup app.
“Maybe…or maybe someone who just wants to have sex with me.” He chuckled, then grabbed his phone. “Hmm. Nice hole.”
It was my turn to laugh. “You gonna go?” There was no reason why he shouldn’t. I would understand if he wanted to go get laid.
“Nah, I’m good here. Unless you’re trying to get rid of me.”
I should be. I would think I’d want to, but I didn’t. “Nope.” My food was gone now, and Corbin had eaten about three-quarters of his. After we tossed the trash and leftovers in the bag, I leaned back and put my feet up on the coffee table. “Have you considered trying other options than hookup apps if you’re really looking for a boyfriend?”
“Lots of people find partners there. Don’t knock it.”
“I’m not. It’s actually where I met DJ, my ex.”
“Interesting… Well, good to know. I actually signed up for a dating app too. I have a few messages.”
“Let’s check them out.”
Corbin took his shoes off and pulled his legs up, sitting cross-legged on my couch. “Okay…first, we have Johnson.”
“Pass,” I replied automatically.
“Why?”
“That’s not his real name. He’s talking about his dick.”
“Okay, Judgy McJudgerson. How do you know? I’m gonna click his message.” A second later he said, “Oh, dick pic. You were right.”
He went through a few names, telling me about the men or what they’d messaged. We laughed and joked and put some in a maybe category and some straight up no.
I couldn’t pretend I didn’t notice Corbin getting closer and closer to me. I had no doubt that if he just wanted to fuck me, he’d have no qualms about spitting it out. He was honest about shit like that, but I thought maybe the cuddle stuff was different for him. Last night went well, and he joked around and called me CB, but I had a feeling he wanted it today and didn’t know how to ask.
“Come here,” I told him, surprising myself. But what was the point in continuing to feel that way when it was obvious Corbin regularly made me act in ways I couldn’t explain?
“Actually, I think I need a shower.”
“Why? I don’t give a shit about that. Hell, I’ll probably like it.”
When I held my arm out, putting it on the back of the couch, Corbin tucked himself right in. I lowered my hand to his shoulder, then his arm, massaging it and holding him close. He put a leg over one of mine, burrowed in deeper, to my chest, keeping his phone in his hand.
“Who’s the next guy?” I asked. Because what Corbin and I were doing wasn’t about being boyfriends or even having sex. It was about…companionship, about this man who was known as The Charmer, who could get anyone to fall in love with him and had a great group of friends, yet I thought he felt very alone. He needed someone outside The Vers guys, someone who just wanted to be his friend and who didn’t expect anything else from him. Who enjoyed his company not because he was sexy and charming, but because he was him.
“Hmm. This one doesn’t sound too bad. His name is Christopher. He’s thirty-five. He works in tech and loves the gym and working on his body.”
Well, I wasn’t sure that was the healthiest thing for Corbin, but for now I kept it to myself.
“He says he’s done the hookup thing all his life, never had a real relationship, and now he’s feeling like he’s missing out, so basically he’s me.”
“You should message him,” I said seriously.
“Maybe I will,” Corbin replied, but then closed the app. “I’m tired.”
He turned toward me, wrapping his arm around me, face in my neck, breathing me in.
My dick was definitely getting a little excited as blood began rushing toward my groin. “Do you want to stay?” I mean, we were cuddle buddies and all. Jesus Christ, I couldn’t believe I’d even thought that.
“If you insist,” he replied with a chuckle.
“I need to take a shower.”
“Me too. I’ll go home and take one and come back?”
“Perfect.”
This was…so fucking weird. What the hell were we doing?
Still, we got up, gathered the dinner trash, and threw it all away. I told Corbin I’d leave the door unlocked, and he headed next door to his apartment. The first thing I did in the shower was jerk off, hoping that would keep me from getting hard the second he was in my bed again.
I washed up, then tugged on a pair of boxer briefs, just as I heard the door open and him say, “You ready, CB?”
“Yep.” I made my way back into the living room. Corbin had on shorts and a tee, his hair wet like mine. He locked the door, and I turned off the lights, like we were a fucking couple or something. When we got to my room, he stripped down to his underwear while I did my best not to stare.
His body was so different from mine—hard where I was soft, six-pack abs while mine were beneath some pudge. His hip bones poked out a bit too much for my comfort, though.
“I brought my charger.” Corbin plugged his phone in and set it on the nightstand on the side of the bed where he would sleep. Each of us set our alarms, I hit the lights, and we climbed into bed together.
“I like the smell of your soap.” He nuzzled his face into my armpit, which was really fucking hot. If it were about sex, I’d expect him to stick his tongue out and lick it. “And I like the way you feel…soft and warm. Comfortable.”
“I like the way you feel too,” I admitted. What was the point in lying?
“Cuddle buddies are the best.”
I chuckled. “Shut up and go to bed, Corbin. We have to get up early for work.”
“Yes, CB,” he replied playfully, threw his leg over my body, and did just as I said.
Riley Hart’s love of all things romance shines brightly in everything she writes. Her primary focus is Male/Male romance but under various pen names, her prose has touched practically every part of the spectrum of love and relationships. The common theme that ties them all together is stories told from the heart.
A hopeless romantic herself, Riley is a lover of character-driven plots, many with flawed and relatable characters. She strives to create stories that readers can not only fall in love with, but also see themselves in. Real characters and real love blended together equal the ultimate Riley Hart experience.
When Riley isn’t creating her next story, you can find her reading, travelling, or dreaming about reading or travelling, and spending time with her two perfectly snarky kids, and one swoon-inducing husband.
Riley Hart is represented by Jane Dystel at Dystel, Goderich & Bourret Literary Management. She’s a 2019 Lambda Literary Award Finalist for Of Sunlight and Stardust.
NOT DATING MATERIALAccidental Love #2by Saxon James
Synopsis
MOLLY
Moving to Seattle is supposed to be all about getting a fresh start and leaving the bitter man I was becoming behind.
I have new roommates–quirky, sometimes strange, roommates–a nosy, next-door neighbor and a grumpy kitty for company, but even surrounded by people, I still don’t feel like I belong. Plus, it turns out the men in Seattle are exactly the same as the ones I left behind, and my string of romantic disconnections continues.
It’s not until one of my roommates, Seven, hits me with some hard truths that I realize where I was going wrong.
Maybe the men aren’t the problem.
I am.
And there’s only one way to fix that.
SEVEN
Being found tied up naked to my bed by my cute new roommate isn’t an ideal way for us to start a friendship.
But apparently a quid-pro-quo is.
He keeps his pretty lips zipped about the compromising position, and I step in as his dating coach. We go out, I point out where he’s going wrong, and he magically becomes dating material.
The problem is, between my codependent brother Xander and a new best friend I can’t get rid of, Molly and I are the target of a matchmaking scheme. My life is way too busy to add another person to it, and Molly is the kinda guy who needs to be made a priority, which I just can’t do. Xander’s medical anxiety takes up too much of my time, and I’ve never found a partner who doesn’t resent it.
Almost as soon as I hear his message tone go off, Molly throws open the office door. He’s got all the windows in the corner room open, flooding it with more sunlight than I usually let in here, and the beams highlight the dust stirring behind his head. The guy looks like a flipping angel.
Until his eyes drop to my torso.
“Some days, I wonder if you’re purposely trying to turn me on.”
I bite back a laugh. “Yeah, until you catch me shaving my balls, you don’t get to claim that.”
He leans against the doorframe and crosses one ankle over the other, his short athletic shorts showing off nicely sculpted, tan thighs.
Molly grunts. “And now you’re checking me out. That’s not fair.”
“You were shamelessly ogling me.”
“You’re shirtless and a foot taller than me. It was right there in my face.”
“Didn’t try to look away though, did you?”
“I mean …” His teeth bury into his bottom lip as his gaze drops back down. “I just really love that tattoo.”
My lips twitch as I mirror him, leaning against the opposite jamb. “When I agreed to date you, I thought you’d be more high-maintenance than you have been.”
“Really?”
“Just from what you said. But so far, I’ve only had thirty-six texts and two random calls, one about a bee you saw outside the window and one about how the knighting system in England works.”
“I was curious.”
“You also have Google.”
He drags his bottom lip between his teeth. “Too much?”
That’s a hard question to answer. Molly texts like he talks. Every sentence is a new message, all short sporadic bursts, bouncing around in a way that’s impossible to follow but fun to try. So instead of giving him the full answer, I hedge. “Maybe if I was at work, yeah. Or had, I dunno, a corporate job.”
“Okay …” He very obviously catalogs that information, and I’m hit with a stab of something. Something that doesn’t sit right.
“But, hey. If I’m texting back, go wild. As many as you want.”
“Really?”
“Well, with me, at least. You can usually pick up on tone when people are trying to blow you off.”
“Yeah, I’m not the best at that.”
“Then ask. Communication is important in any relationship, and it’s better that you know that stuff up front and avoid an easy problem later.”
“And … with you? I can text you if you’re not working?”
“Well, I can’t write back when I’m working, but as long as you’re okay with waiting for a reply, I’m happy to read them all when I’m done. Just don’t be texting me things like hey, where are you or why aren’t you texting me back because that’ll get old fast.”
He laughs softly and holds out his hand, pinky extended. “Promise.”
“There’s no horse-drawn way I’m pinky swearing with you.”
“Aww, come on?”
And because I’m worried that Molly has the kind of power to make me do just about anything, I cross my arms. Be strong, Seven. “Hard line for me.”
Molly huffs. “Fine. But tomorrow, I’m going to send you a hundred texts to go through once you’ve finished work.”
“Oooh, that’ll show me.” I don’t tell him that I’d like it.
It takes me a moment to realize we’re both standing there, smiling at each other.
I clear my throat and step away. “Don’t forget it’s your turn to set up the next date.”
“Already working on it.”
“Oh, and the reason I came up here before you started drooling over me and distracting me—this Saturday. Bertha thing. You’re in, right?”
“When you say thing, do you mean like Monopoly Monday or an orgy? Because while the second isn’t a deal breaker, I’d probably need some time to think it over.”
“Huh. Never thought you’d be interested in sleeping with Madden.”
Molly shrugs. “It’s been a while for me. But okay, no. Not him.” His eyes flick to me and away again.
I grin and step forward. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re angling for another look at my cock.”
“Good thing you know better, then.”
“Pity for you. It’s a great cock.”
Molly smirks. “I know. I’ve seen it.”
I search his eyes for a second, wondering how far to push this thing. We’re date training and becoming friends, and I’m apparently not his type. But lawd Molly’s pretty. He makes me want to break the rules. I’ve never been so tempted by one person before.
“Saturday’s dinner,” I tell him. “And then Elle’s booked out the VIP section in one of the clubs downtown.”
“Fancy.”
“Friends in high places. Never thought I’d have one of those.”
Somehow, we’ve gotten really close, and when Molly’s face lights up with mischief, it’s only too easy for him to press onto his toes and rub the tip of his nose against mine.
“What—”
“No pinky swears for you. We’ll do nose kisses instead.”
I take a huge step back. “I’ll do nose kisses when I’m dead.”
“Too late,” he sings.
I shake my head as I walk off. “Saturday.”
“I’ll be there. And I’ll wear something extra slutty. Just for you.”
Saxon James unapologetically writes happy endings for LGBT+ characters. While not writing, SM is a readaholic and Netflix addict who regularly lives on a sustainable diet of chocolate and coffee. Member of SCBWI.
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