Thursday, June 21, 2018

The Necromancer's Reckoning by SJ Himes - Blog Tour with Excerpt and Giveaway


THE NECROMANCER’S RECKONING
THE BEACON HILL SORCERER, BOOK 3
S.J. HIMES
GAY URBAN FANTASY ROMANCE
RELEASE DATE: 05.27.18



COVER DESIGN: Kellie Dennis of Book Cover by Design

BLURB

Every action has consequences.

For a decade, Angel Salvatore has been the most powerful sorcerer and only necromancer in all the Northeast. Never one to ask permission nor apologies, he has acted with near impunity for years.

Until now.

The High Council of Sorcery has come to Boston, and Angel is their target. Charged with numerous violations of practitioner laws, his freedom and family are placed in jeopardy.

If found guilty, Angel's apprentice Daniel will be imprisoned to serve out the remaining years of his apprenticeship. Isaac, his brother, is too vulnerable to be left unguarded, and Angel fears for his sanity and health. And Simeon, Elder vampire and Angel's mate refuses to see Angel convicted under the laws of the Council and his actions to keep Angel free threaten to start a war that could destroy their world. And Angel faces the severest of punishments—the castration of his gifts.

The Council has never cared for the people of Boston, and Angel doubts their motives. They have come for some insidious reason, and it has nothing to do with upholding the law and everything to do with Angel.

Dealing with an impending trial, a wayward ghost, and a grave robbing ring of thieves leaves Angel on the edge. He thinks he may have a handle on things until violence erupts across the city, and a stranger comes to town...a stranger with his own dark powers of necromancy.

This is book 3 of a series, and the previous books should be read first for full enjoyment. Trigger Warnings are on the Copyright Page and can be seen using the Look Inside feature or by downloading a sample of this book.



EXCERPT

“What do you mean, I got a letter?” Angel held his smartphone between his ear and shoulder, fumbling with the keys to his office. It was still dark, and he huffed with impatience, blinking a small orb of hellfire into existence over his hands so he could find the right key. Inserting it into the lock, he opened the door and dismissed the orb, flicking the light switch by the door.

“It was delivered by courier about ten minutes ago,” Daniel replied, his apprentice talking past food. “I had to sign for it. The courier almost didn’t leave it with me until I told him I was your apprentice.”

Angel grumbled to himself, tossing his keys on his desk and grabbing his phone, rubbing the back of his neck. He left his apartment not even ten minutes before, which was only a couple blocks away, so the courier must have shown up right as he was leaving. He frowned, thinking back to the pre-dawn street, and he didn’t recall seeing anyone—not even a car or taxi.

“Well, go ahead and open it,” Angel said, tapping his phone to put it on speaker. Daniel made a happy sound past whatever he was chewing, and Angel snorted out a laugh. He booted up his laptop, looking for the appointment he had that morning at the ass-crack of dawn. Why in the world he thought it would be a good idea to have a private consultation so damn early on a Monday was beyond him. Which was why he decided on waking up everyone he lived with so he could share the misery. Though it was only Daniel since Isaac was at Nevermore and Simeon was at the Tower.

A sharp yelp and swearing came out from the speakers, and Angel laughed. “Papercut?”
“No! It shocked me!” Daniel gasped out, cussing under his breath. “I can’t open it!”
“What do you mean you can’t open it? Just rip it open.”

“I’m trying! Ouch!” Daniel yelped again, and the sounds coming from over the phone were parts hilarious and alarming. “I’m not risking my fingers. You can open it.”

“Who is it from? It might be warded if a courier brought it.”

“Now you tell me,” Daniel muttered, and Angel grinned as he found the appointment time. Daniel was finding his courage and picking up sass lessons from Isaac. His shy apprentice was learning all about sarcasm in the Salvatore household. His appointment was in about five minutes. No time to run back home and get the letter that was singeing his apprentice’s fingers. Daniel recited the address on the letter, “It says, ‘To Angelus Raine Salvatore, Necromancer of Beacon Hill, Boston, Massachusetts. From’…Oh, wow.”

“Who’s it from?”

“The High Council of Sorcery, Bucharest, Romania.”

Angel stood up straight, hands falling away from his laptop. He stared at the phone, the quiet in his office somehow loud, heart pounding in his ears. He looked up at the door as if any second one of the Council enforcers would blast through the doorway, ready to take him into custody for crimes sundry against international sorcery laws. He breathed in, breath shaky, and flexed his fingers. He reached out with his mind, cautiously testing the wards around his office, and there was nothing.

“Angel? Angel!” Daniel squawked over the phone, and Angel snapped free of the tension that held him frozen and snatched up the phone.

“Daniel, my appointment is any minute. Can you bring the letter here? Just hang out in the main room until I’m done if we’ve started when you get here. Wake up Eroch and have him come with you.”

“Um, okay…wake up the fire-breathing lizard, he says.”

“Just pick him up and carry him with you if he doesn’t wake up. He was sleeping on my pillow when I left. Don’t walk over here alone. I’d say hold on to it until I get home, but I have a feeling I need to read that letter as soon as possible.”

“Okay. Can I take a shower first?”

“You better,” Angel chuckled and hung up. Twenty-year-old men needed showers for the sake of everyone.

A knock sounded from the front of the office, and Angel took a deep breath, calming his off-center nerves before heading to answer the door. He was still cautious, sending out his awareness, his wards humming in the recesses of his mind, unmolested. There were two people on the small landing outside his door, their auras muffled by the panel, but they were both practitioners.

Angel opened the door, a polite smile on his face.

“Angelus Salvatore?” asked a tall, bulky man in a dark coat, his face set to glower. Angel lifted a brow, unable to see the person behind the big man. He could see a flash of red hair and a small bit of alabaster skin before the big guy shifted.

“I am,” Angel replied, opening the door wider, stepping back and gesturing them inside. His wards were set to allow strangers inside, but they would dampen any magic cast in this space by strangers or those he blocked. Came in handy when dealing with young sorcerers and unexpected guests. They could still cast, but his magic permeated the space, claiming even the ambient magical energies and stifling spells cast by interlopers. Not much use against a practitioner who used their own reserves, but the more dangerous, higher-ranked practitioners tended to reach outside themselves first before casting.

A tall woman was behind the big guy, slim and covered head to toe in black, from her leather high-heeled boots and ankle-length black pea coat to her black silk scarf and a jaunty, tiny pillbox hat atop titian curls. She was familiar, but the shadows were still dark enough Angel was having difficulty determining her identity. He led them back to his office, gesturing at the chairs in front of his desk. The woman sat, unwinding her scarf, her escort taking a stance beside the office door. Angel turned on the lamps as dawn was taking its time arriving and the room had shadows in inconvenient places.

The woman removed her scarf, putting it on her lap before shrugging from her coat. Her escort stepped forward, taking it from her before returning to his spot by the door. The woman, dressed in a thin black wraparound dress that hugged every slim curve and long line of her body, smiled at Angel. She was pretty, in a very human way, nothing of the fae about her in face or form. Dark green eyes, nothing at all like the brilliant emerald of Simeon’s eyes but arresting enough in their own merits, gazed back at him, glistening with wry humor.

“Lady Kensington,” Angel acknowledged after a moment’s pause, surprised. The recent widow was a wizard and a skilled apothecary who owned and ran Nightshade Apothecary not far from where they sat in Beacon Hill. Angel would see her occasionally in the neighborhood or when he needed supplies between scheduled deliveries. Her husband, Lord Greyson Kensington, died of a heart attack three months ago while shoveling snow off the front stoop of their shop one chilly winter morning.

“Call me Heather, please,” she said, voice melodic and rich, smooth as hot chocolate with a shot of whiskey. Her chin rose as if she was expecting argument. What Angel could remember of her husband, the man was a stickler for propriety and demanded to be addressed by his title, even to friends.

Angel never liked the man.

“Heather,” Angel agreed with a grin, surprising her into smiling back at him. “What can I do for you? And why so early? I would’ve come to the shop.”

“I’m afraid this matter requires a measure of discretion,” Lady Heather replied, twisting her scarf in her fingers. “It’s regarding my late husband.”

Angel paused, thinking. Usually when the recently bereaved came to his door, they wanted either the impossible, like a resurrection, or more commonly, a summoning of the departed spirit. He rarely acquiesced as nothing good could come from repeatedly dialing in to the Other Side. It kept the living from moving on and tormented the souls he would be recalling to this plane.

She must have seen some of these thoughts on his face, as she held up a dainty hand, forestalling his coming denial. “I don’t want you to summon him from the Other Side,” she said, tears gathering on her lashes. Angel waited, curious despite himself. “I want you to find him for me.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not following,” Angel said warily, hoping she didn’t cry. Isaac or Daniel breaking down he hated but knew what to do, a near stranger crying left him awkward.

“The shop was broken into three nights ago,” Lady Heather said quickly, words tumbling over themselves as she hurried to explain. “I heard the commotion from my apartment upstairs, but by the time the police arrived, it was too late.”

“What did they steal?” Angel was trying to follow along, he really was, but he had no idea what a burglary would have to do with her deceased husband.

“They stole him,” Lady Heather said, digging out a handkerchief from her tiny black purse. She dabbed at her eyes, miraculously not smearing her mascara.

Angel frowned. “I’m going to need you to spell this out for me.”

“The thieves stole Greyson’s ghost. I need you to find him.”








I'm a self-employed writer who stresses out about the silliest things, like whether or not I got my dog the best kind of snack and the fact my kindle battery tends to die when I'm at the best part in a book. I write mainly gay romance, erotica, and urban fantasy, with occasional forays into contemporary and paranormal. I love a book heavy on plot and character evolution, and throw in some magic, and that's perfection. My current series are: The Beacon Hill Sorcerer, Bred For Love (as Revella Hawthorne), The Wolfkin Saga, and the epic fantasy romance series Realms of Love. My last two novels in the Beacon Hill Sorcerer won 3rd Place in the Gay Fantasy category for the 2016 Rainbow Awards.

I live in New Orleans, where the personalities are big and loud and so are the bugs! New Orleans is rich in cultural history, and the flavor and music of the City is impossible to hide. Before that, I lived all over the United States: Tampa, Western Massachusetts, Indianapolis, and on and on.... I'm a nomad, and I've yet to find a place that calls to me strongly enough to become home. My faithful travel companions are my dog Micah, the numerous voices in my head who insist they all get put on paper, and the wind at my back.



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Expecting by Sarah Havan - Release Blitz with Excerpt



RELEASE BLITZ AND REVIEW TOUR


Book Title: Expecting (Pine Wood Falls #1)

Author: Sarah Havan

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Melissa Liban

Genre/s: m/m romance, non-shifter Mpreg romance, secret omegaverse

Length: 65,000 words/262 pages

Release Date: June 21, 2018

It’s the start of a series but can be read as a standalone.




Blurb

Conrad Mayfair is finally becoming comfortable in his own skin, so he wants to tell his best friend Mason that he’s gay and in love with him. He can’t seem to get the words out, though. But soon the flirting starts, followed by a weekend of marathon sex, and the shocking news a few months later that Conrad is going to be a father.

Something’s going on with nineteen-year-old Mason Donnelly. He seems to be developing breasts, has felt sick for months, and is constantly tired. After a doctor’s appointment to try to figure things out, his life flips upside down. He learns not only is he intersex, but he’s also pregnant, a condition only made possible because Mason is an omega and Conrad is his alpha.

Conrad and Mason are introduced to a new way of life they knew nothing about. While Conrad is willing to jump in and accept it, Mason isn’t so sure. Together, they have to decide if it’s a life they truly want.





Buy Links - Available on Kindle Unlimited





Excerpt

Mason

“Do I see stubble?” my best friend Conrad asked. He lay on his bed with his hands behind his head, shirtless, his abs on display for all of their six-pack glory. Images of me running my tongue over them flashed through my head.

I rubbed the side of my jaw. “You sure do. At the age of nineteen, I’m finally becoming a real man.”

“Dude, you’ve been a man. Just a hairless one. Are you still hairless everywhere else?” He smiled and sat up, crossing his legs.

“God, Conrad.” I turned around in my desk chair and folded my arms over my chest, pretending I didn’t want to share the information. He knew I’d cave and tell him, happened that way every time.

“Well?”

“If you must know, no.” I glanced over my shoulder at him.

“Chest hair?” he grinned and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs and clasping his hands.

I spun around to face him and shook my head.

“Ah, down there.”

“Okay, we need to stop talking about this and that hair has been there for a couple years now.”

“You’re my best friend. We should be able to talk about everything.”

“Some things, I don’t want to talk about.” I turned back toward my desk, trying to complete my assignment for the class I had later in the day. I loved taking a fiction writing course, but I didn’t like when we had to write papers analyzing books we had read in class, thus me still working on my paper.

“It’s not like you’re the only one who’s had delayed puberty.” Those words, how I loathed them.

“I swear to God I’m going to punch you,” I said over my shoulder.

“All right, sorry. I know it’s a touchy subject for you.”

“And yet, you decided to have a conversation about it.”

“Just curious.”

I sighed and turned back toward Conrad. “But now, I feel ready to, you know.”

“Have sex?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

I shrugged. “Well, yeah.”

“Because you grew some facial hair?” Conrad rubbed his palm over his jaw which caused my cock to stir in my pants. I had fallen in love with him years ago, and my feelings for him lately had gotten a lot stronger.

“Maybe it’ll make me look older, more rugged, more desirable.” Because I was a sophomore in college and still looked like I belonged in high school.

“If you’re going to be with someone, they should want to be with you no matter what you look like.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re six-foot-four and have been all manly since you were like thirteen. I’m five-foot-five, incapable of building my pecs. Instead I have perky nubbins. Like what the heck is that about? And my Adam’s apple isn’t even all that visible. All of that doesn’t scream sex appeal,” I said, looking over at Conrad who screamed of sex appeal. Besides his gorgeous body, he had the perfect shade of medium brown hair that he kept short with his bangs a bit longer which he always styled up. Hair I had wanted to run my fingers through so many times before. And his smile, a bit mischievous but always so genuinely happy.







About the Author

Sarah Havan grew up in the Midwest and still actually lives there. She has an appreciation for having all four seasons. She writes all kinds of romance, but most recently has focused on gay romance in her writing.





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Wednesday, June 20, 2018

Shipped by Karrie Roman - Release Blitz with Excerpt and Giveaway



Title:  Shipped
Series: Until You, Book One
Author: Karrie Roman
Publisher:  NineStar Press
Release Date: June 18, 2018
Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 69200
Genre: Contemporary, friends to lovers, actors, fandom, ship, beard, slowburn/UST, stalker, attempted murder, family drama

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Synopsis


Ryan Lowe has been a lonely nobody all his life. The only time he ever feels the rush of living is when he’s acting. Wanting to get as far away from his small town life and alcoholic father as possible, he leaves Australia to pursue a career as an actor in the bright lights of Hollywood, never stopping to consider the fame that might come with it.

Lucas Evers understands fame. He’s been a successful actor on the small-screen for years and loves his career. Nothing comes for free though, and the price he’s paid for his success is keeping who he is hidden from the world. He married his best friend to keep both of their secrets, and until now, he has been content with the cost of his fame.

When Lucas and Ryan are cast in a new television series based on a wildly popular book series everything changes for them. The show is a worldwide hit and together they have just become the most popular ship on the planet. As they begin to realize it’s not just their characters falling in love, the cost of their fame rises. Together they must face stalkers, anxiety, panic attacks, and attempted murder.

Excerpt


Shipped
Karrie Roman © 2018
All Rights Reserved

Prologue
Unknown Aussie could be our new Sam

Out of the half-dozen people in the room, he was the only one who was standing. It didn’t matter to him; he needed to stand; it was the only way he knew how to do this and he had to do it well. This was his big chance; he felt it. Actually, it was the first real chance he’d had in months. He called on all of his training—which wasn’t much—focused as he’d been taught, and gave it his best shot.

“I didn’t do it for me, and I didn’t do it for her.” He bent down to look into the greenest eyes he’d ever seen. They were so bright—almost electric—and especially in this town, he couldn’t even be sure they were real, but they were certainly breathtaking. “I did it for you—always for you,” he finished on little more than a whisper.

The amazing green eyes flared with anger, darkening them. Their owner slammed his palm on the table in front of him. “I never asked you to. I never wanted you to—”

“Then what do you want from me?” He raised his voice in anger too.

“I don’t want anything from you right now. I gave you a chance, Sam. I begged you and you chose to walk away. I don’t know what else there is to talk about.”

“Dominic, please. I made a mistake. I never should have listened to Trina, never should have gone with her. I believed it was the right thing to do. I thought it would help. Please…come back. It’s dangerous for you out here, alone.” He let fear bleed into his plea, hoping he was pulling this off. He kept his gaze on those green eyes, doing his best to block out every other person in the room. He knew any chemistry between them would sell it, and chemistry started with eye contact.

“Is that actual concern for me, Sam, or do you and the rest of the team only need me for my talents?”

“Of course, I’m concerned for you, Dom. I never once said I didn’t care.”

“And cut.” A deep voice broke into the scene, and Ryan immediately relaxed. Acting never came easy to him, though it was this challenge and the rush of performing that attracted him to it. “Good job, both of you. Ryan, as you know, we’ve already cast Lucas as Dominic and you played off really well against him today as Sam. We’ll take a look at your test on the screen to make sure the magic here in the room translates onto film. We should have an answer for you in a few days.” Mike Faraday, one of the hottest producers in television these days, was far less intimidating than Ryan had expected. He was a big man, but his face was the complete opposite of a resting bitch face—he seemed to wear a perpetual smile.

“Thank you, Mr. Faraday, for this opportunity.” Ryan then turned to Lucas Evers, who still sat at the table from where he’d read his lines. “Thank you, Lucas. I really enjoyed doing the scenes with you.” This had been the last of three scenes he’d done with Lucas as part of the final audition, and he’d loved every second of it.

“Likewise, Ryan. Good job.” Lucas finally stood and reached to shake Ryan’s hand. Ryan had watched Lucas in his old role on Tides for many years, but the man was far better-looking in person and had a presence that, even being new to the industry, Ryan had no doubt was required for mega-stardom. Lucas Evers would one day be a Hollywood idol.

“Oh, Ryan, sorry, but just to make sure”—Ryan turned toward the casting agent with the delightful name of Molly Anne Moskin—“we want to double-check you understand the character of Sam Dawson is gay. Meaning you would be required, at some point, to do romantic scenes with men. We want to be sure it’s not a problem for you.”

The saying beggars can’t be choosers flitted across Ryan’s mind, but the simple fact was he didn’t care. He had no experience with men, but he’d never ruled them out either. He’d found more than a few attractive from time to time. The truth was, though, he’d been far too busy working to support his acting classes and running around to auditions to care too much about a personal life. So, no, some gay scenes didn’t bother him at all.

“Of course, Molly. It’s no problem at all.” He hastened to reassure her because he’d hate to lose this role over something he thought of as a non-issue.

“Excellent. Well, your look is spot-on: tall, dark, and handsome. And those dark-brown eyes are screaming to be on the screen, and don’t get me started on that jawline. Rawrr. So I guess, well…we’ll be in contact.” Molly Anne reached out and shook his hand.

Ryan made his way around the room, thanking the others present before saying goodbye. He walked out the door and through the maze-like corridors of the enormous studio offices and couldn’t help wondering if his life was about to change in extraordinary ways he’d hardly dared to imagine even in his wildest dreams.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble


Meet the Author

Karrie lives in Australia’s sunshine state with her husband and two sons, though she hates the sun with a passion. She dreams of one day living in the wettest and coldest habitable place she can find. She has been writing stories in her head for years but has finally managed to pull the words out of her head and share them with others. She spends her days trying to type her stories on the computer without disturbing her beloved cat Lu curled up on the keyboard. She probably reads far too much.

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