Monday, August 10, 2020

Together by Eloreen Moon - Blog Tour with Exclusive Excerpt and Giveaway



Together - Eloreen Moon



Eloreen Moon has a new MMM erotic romance out: "Together." And there's a giveaway!


Victor has loved El and En since high school. The problem is, they love each other and only see him as a friend. Victor leaves town, unable to cope with watching them together, but now he’s back—and his heart still feels the same.

El and En have had feelings for Victor for a long time, they just haven’t said anything. After all, a poly relationship isn’t something society looks upon kindly. But that isn’t going to stop them, not now they understand what missing Victor is like. They want their third, no matter what anyone says—they just have to find out whether Victor is up for the challenge.


Together again, individually, the three men know they’re meant to be a trio. The thing is, who will say so first? And will the dynamic work if Victor joins a stable couple? Can Victor fit in and have the relationship he’s dreamed of with the two men who have held his heart in their hands for what feels like forever?


Find out in Together.



Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CAN | Universal Buy Link | QueeRomance Ink | Goodreads




Giveaway


Eloreen is giving away a $25 Amazon gift card with this tour – enter via Rafflecopter for a chance to win:




Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47139/?




Excerpt



Together meme - Eloreen Moon


Sitting on the patio outside our favorite North Atlanta diner on a spring-like April Friday should not have been cause for melancholy. This was, after all, our regular weekly lunch whenever we were all in town. But it had been around this time, three years earlier, when my best friends, El and En—Miguel Armenta and Enrique Cruz—had dropped a life-changing bomb on me. I couldn’t help thinking back to high school when they’d told me they were moving in together after graduation.

My world had gone dark that day.

I hadn’t let it show. I’d hugged them gently, told them that they were my best friends and we would keep in touch, while hiding behind my shoulder-length black dreads. I quietly changed all my post-graduation plans, embarrassed that I was running but certain I didn’t have any other choice. My pain was too great. Fortunately, I hadn’t told them of my plans before it had happened. It was around that time I had begun to realize I had feelings other than a simple crush for my best friends in the months before we got our diplomas.

I almost had another panic attack shortly after heading for university when I realized I wanted both of them; I couldn’t choose between them and proceeded to break up with my then girlfriend so I wouldn’t string her along for any protracted length of time than I already had. I had to get as far away from the ones I desired so I hightailed it to California like my ass was on fire.

The subsequent change of scenery had triggered a lot of soul-searching. During that time, I came to the realization that I could have feelings for both men and women. Following that, ménages were not unheard of as far as committed relationships went. I returned home from school three years later after graduating early with my newly minted degree in systems engineering. I went back to my hometown in Metro Atlanta because of the availability of tech jobs even though I knew returning would put me in their zone again. They had never left the small town north of Atlanta where we’d grown up. The lower cost of living in the region and my initial salary made it an easy decision. In reality, I had missed them while in school too much to stay away. I was sad sometimes but I had other interests and friends, kept in shape with kick boxing, and hung out with them on a semi-regular basis. I had made my peace to be near them again but was about to find out that may not continue.

I had taken another bite out of my sandwich while they had been quietly talking and reminiscing when a shout of surprise penetrated my consciousness. It was the expectant looks on their faces that finally registered, and I realized that someone had asked me a question while I hadn’t been paying attention.

I chewed quickly so I could focus on the two dark-haired, golden-skinned, Latino men sitting across from me.

“What? Did I miss something?”

My heart squeezed as I looked at their gorgeous faces. They both had slightly oval-shaped jaws, and mustaches, but En had trimmed scruff along his jaw while El was clean-shaven. My attraction to them had never waned, but I wasn’t going to break them up to satisfy my selfishness. I ignored the familiar pain, just as I had for the previous eight years, and waited for them to respond.

El rolled his dark blue eyes at my tendency to get stuck in my head and answered for them both. He usually did—being the one who was six-two standing and slightly taller than En, while En was the quieter one. El was protective of him, too. Considering En is a writer and El a lawyer, they fit. The thought flitted through my mind that I wanted to hold and protect them both. I mentally shook my head and focused on the repeated question.

“Vic, would you be our best man at our wedding in two weeks?”

I reared back in shock. “What! How? When did this happen?” I stood instantly to my full height of six-five, almost toppling the chair in my haste. Slightly embarrassed at my reaction, I continued to deflect, “Of course I’ll be your best man. Together?”

El and En stood with me, and we migrated close to each other as we talked.

At En’s nod, I continued, “That’s going to be some interesting coordination. Yes, sure! Where?”

I smiled through the searing pain that lanced my heart. I had gotten used to hiding my feelings from them for so long it was second nature.

Seemingly a little nervous, En showed the rings he had and said softly, “I just asked him now spontaneously.” He gazed at El lovingly while holding him around the middle, his head tucked under El’s chin, and his pretty brown eyes radiating happiness.

El wrapped his arms around him, grinning widely, and he eyed me intently.

“I said yes,” he confirmed as well.

“Awww, that’s cute,” I said, outwardly amused but inwardly I was shattered. “Sorry about missing the request the first time around. You know how I get lost in my head sometimes.” I walked the few steps to them and gathered them both in a group hug, my long arms almost encircling them.

I had no hope now, since I never saw any signs they were interested in me romantically, but I didn’t want to lose their friendship and so I’d never told them of my feelings. While I knew about polyamory, I wasn’t sure they did, and they never gave any indication that they were interested in something more than friends. I enjoyed the contact for a few more seconds then pulled back a little, catching my dreads in a loose ponytail with a hair looper I had on my wrist most of the time. “You haven’t figured out how to do the deed yet, huh?”

“Actually…we have,” El answered excitedly, practically jumping in our three-way hug. “We’re going to ask one of our friends who have their online ordination to marry us in Piedmont Park that Saturday. I’d been about to ask En tonight at home as I already got a marriage license last week.” He focused on En sheepishly, kissed him on the top of his short-haired head, and only separated some as he continued, “Apparently, great minds think alike and all as he had the rings with him today.”

Adorable. My heart turned over at how cute they were. God, I loved them so much. I’d thought it was just friendship with them growing up as I hadn’t ever had any feelings for guys. I’d liked girls as a kid and loved touching them. I’d noticed guys but only in passing, and it was fleeting, so I’d never thought about guys that way for many years. For fuck sake, I had a typical high school sweetheart cheerleader to my wrestling jock self!

It had never occurred to me that I was bisexual when I’d transferred to Appleton Middle School at the tender age of thirteen. My parents and I moved from Jamaica because of political unrest at the time. With a June birthday and different grade entrance laws in Georgia, I had to repeat sixth grade, so I was two years older than them. I was the ebony dark guy to their golden Latin American in a school system with only a smattering of non-whites to satisfy the diversity in the upper middle-class school system we had attended. People eyed me warily when I’d first arrived. Whispers of that N word and occasional other derogatory name-calling crept up over the years. I came to realize the stories of discrimination I had heard but hadn’t paid attention to before the move about the US in general, and the southeastern states in particular, were true. En and El became my best friends despite the lack of true diversity at the time and had me join them for lunches in the school cafeteria from day one. We’d continued the lunches over the years and only interrupted them when I went to college.

It hadn’t surprised me much when they’d started behaving differently with each other in sophomore year. They came out to me as gay about the same time they told me they’d begun their romantic relationship toward Christmastime that same year. It was a wake-up call, and I realized I had a crush on El first, then En invaded my heart later. Since I was eighteen at the time, I considered running from the feelings they evoked. Even then, I couldn’t leave as I didn’t want to lose our friendship. At Appleton High, I dated the head cheerleader, probably more due to being on the Varsity wrestling team despite the mixed-race pairing we were. I hadn’t understood why my heart ached even though I had no issues being intimate with Gwen until that fateful day that spring.

And now they’d done it to me again.





Exclusive Excerpt:
“You are a blind sonuvabitch,” she said fiercely. Apparently, I got blunt and direct Angela now.
“You don’t under—”
“Oh, but I do. I recalled the story when you told me that they were coming to the benefit last week. If they showed, I knew I wanted to watch their interactions with you. Since they did attend, I had my mission. I hung out around them enough to watch their interactions with you discreetly. While you weren’t interacting with them, they watched you with longing and not a small amount of lust. While they did have love for each other, their expressions never changed when they watched you.” She stopped to take a few deep breaths to get a handle on her frustration. When did she get angry?
“I’m pretty sure they want you in all things. Together. They looked at each other on occasion while you were doing the benefit front-man thing, and I could feel them discussing you without any words. It was scary how in tune they are with each other, and with you to an extent.” Calmer now, she smirked her amusement, “They watched you with so much love, that I’m pretty sure you not only can have your cake, you can get the whole damn bakery!”
I winced at the loudness of her voice as she yelled at me towards the end of her rant.
“I just don’t see that,” I quietly responded.
“I get that.” She softened, “I’m telling you that you need to get with them and hash it out, Vicky.”
My heart warmed at her nickname for me. She told me that with my dreads and my body I was too pretty as a man, and a new nickname was born. It was a good thing I was comfortable in my masculinity that I could take the gender bending name. Some days I thought I had an inner 12-year old girl especially when it came to En and El.
I closed my eyes, thought for a moment, and opened them again. “Ok,” I said simply, heart in my throat but tired of running away from this—from them. “I’ll message them in our group text and see about finding out.”
“Good.” Now she was all smiles with me again. She patted me on the shoulder. Then she got this thoughtful look on her face, “You still speak Jamaican?”
I blinked. I blinked some more at the out-of-left-field question as I thought about why she would ask. I only spoke to my parents in our native language. I occasionally talked to my aunties and uncles who were still there, but it wasn’t often. Yeah, I still spoke it, but I’d suppressed my accent since college because, in the world of technology, people assumed things just by sound and appearance. Some people still equated intelligence with accented English.
“Yeah, mon,” I let my accent slip out a little as I smirked. I hadn’t lived in Jamaica since I was a kid, but I still kept up with the language, speaking with my parents on a regular basis. Truthfully, it was more Jamaican English than Jamaican Patois most of the time since we learned English from a young age. We all wanted to keep the language, so we continued to speak it even when we moved to America. Angela was right: it is a pretty language.
“God, that is hot! Sorry, I love accents. British English and Jamaican are my favorites,” she beamed, then leered. “You need to let your accent out some when you talk to them again. I guarantee that you will have them to dropping to their knees.”
I felt my skin heat up. Despite knowing it didn’t show much on my skin, she knew very well that I was embarrassed by her crass talking. Good thing we were alone in the office.
“I’ll think about it. They heard it when we were in middle school. I started trying to lose the accent in high school. I don’t know.”
“You were always the confident Victor for as long as I’ve known you, Vicky. Except when talking about them. I get it. I do. I’m telling you, as a hopeless romantic and a woman you went out with a few times, you need to step up and be your confident self. You’ve got this.”
I looked away from her anxious face. I nodded in understanding and started packing up my briefcase and the paperwork. We’d finished what we were going to do with the money we had raised to polish off the youth center before opening. Everything was coming together in the business and non-profit sides of my life. I wanted my personal life settled, too.
I considered for a few moments, “Will you help me, Ang?”
She smiled widely, “I thought you would never ask.”


Ang and I arrived at my condo in north Midtown Atlanta. They had started building again recently and when I’d stopped by earlier in the year I found a perfect one on 17th Street. She parked her car in my deck in my resident spot (I still didn’t maintain a personal car) and headed up the elevator to the seventeenth floor. I pulled out my key and opened up my number right off the elevator: 1701. Yes, I deliberately chose my condo number to be the Star Trek registry. It’s part of the reason I chose this particular housing complex. They still had the unit available. Apparently, it was a popular number to request. A lot of people in the area are Trekkies.



Author Bio


Eloreen Moon is a pen name for a writer, reviewer, proofreader, and reader of all things romance, including alternate lifestyle (LGBT) stories and novels. Inspiration is all around and life will not limit her to one particular topic.


Her first story published is Charon’s Dilemma with the 2014 Love’s Landscape event from M/M Romance group on Goodreads.com. Her second story to be published is also with the Don’t Read in the Closet's (DRitC) 2015 Love is an Open Road event, with Coil Me Up. She also finished five 300-word shorts for the Discovery: QSF’s Second Annual Flash Fiction Contest, Flight: QSF's Third Annual Flash Fiction Contest, Renewal: QSF's Fourth Flash Fiction Contest, Impact: Queer Sci Fi's Fifth Annual Flash Fiction Contest, and Migration: Queer Sci Fi’s Sixth Annual Flash Fiction Contest (QSF Flash Fiction Anthologies 1-5).


She likes to read and write a blend of #LGBTQ science fiction, fantasy, historical, paranormal, and sometimes more than one together, especially if romance is involved. However, cowboys, lawmen, and contemporary times are fun too. In Real Life, she works full-time, has a blended family with children, and enjoys gardening, computer games, and enjoying nature.

Author Website: http://blog.eloreenmoon.com

Author Facebook (Personal): http://www.facebook.com/eloreen.moon/

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/eloreenmoonauthor/

Author Twitter: http://twitter.com/eloreenmoon
Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/eloreenmoon/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8158422.Eloreen_Moon
Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/eloreen-moon/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B013MWVB5K




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