Monday 27 February 2017

The Romance Reviews’ 6th Anniversary Party

More than 350 participating authors!!!

More than 350 prizes to be won!!!


Hot Tree Publishing
Soul Mate Publishing
eXtasy Books
Loose Id
Riptide Publishing

Thursday 16 February 2017

Falling Hard by Dale Cameron Lowry - Exclusive Excerpt + Giveaway!

Title: Falling Hard
Author: Dale Cameron Lowry
Length: 233 pages/57,000 words
Publisher: Terrestrial Press
Genres: short stories, contemporary romance, paranormal romance, erotic romance


Falling Hard features nine of Dale Cameron Lowry’s best short romance stories, available for the first time in one book. Meet a sign language interpreter who finds unexpected love at middle-age, college students in their first relationships, a vampire who would rather be a vegan, and a proudly gay ex-Mormon atheist who sells Bibles for a living. From sweet to erotic, this collection exhibits the quirkiness, fun, and diversity Dale's writing is known for.

Here are just a few of the stories in Falling Hard:

  • Loggerhead — Soon after they fall in love, Jake makes Eric a promise inspired by an old track uniform. But demanding work schedules at Jake’s four-star restaurant and Eric’s newspaper keep them from following through. Six years later, they take the honeymoon they never had, heading to the Florida coast in search of sea turtles—and rekindling their passion for each other in the process.
  • Reading the Signs — The only thing twenty-three-year-old Theo De Jong expects when he enrolls in a summer school for linguists in New Mexico is to get more ideas for his master’s thesis in Dutch Sign Language. But then he meets the American sign language expert Alfonso Grossman, and sparks fly.
  • Ghost of a Chance — When shy Jeremy Anderson meets mysterious and dapper Frank at his spooky old university library, their connection is instant. Their romance waxes with the full moon—but just as quickly, Frank’s interest seems to wane. He insists that he loves spending time with Jeremy, but then why does he keep Jeremy at arm’s length?
  • Rough Love — Blake thinks new boyfriend Michael doesn't like French kissing. Michael thinks Blake doesn't like rough sex. Neither are virgins, except in the art of conversation. Can they set things straight before the honeymoon's over?


From Ghost of a Chance:
The full moon was so bright we barely needed the battery-powered lantern we’d brought to light the sukkah. Frank appeared just before dinner, as I’d told him to, wearing a green polo and a light v-neck sweater with argyle diamonds on the front. He looked much sharper than the rest of us in our sweatshirts and hoodies. I swooned internally.

My friend Karen gave me a significant look from her corner of the sukkah, and then a quick smile. He’s hot, she mouthed when Frank looked away to talk to one of the others.

I know, I mouthed back.

Her silent chuckle made her thick black curls shake.

There were seven of us, including Frank, and we sat in a cozy circle around a card table topped with a barley-pumpkin casserole courtesy of the vegetarians, chicken soup, potato chips (courtesy of me, who had such a lack of cooking skills I was lucky to ever get invited to potlucks), and apple-date crisp for dessert. Frank sat close to me, our knees touching, and sometimes when he spoke he would pat my leg for emphasis. The little bit of contact made me hungry for more, and I kept scooting closer. By the end of the meal we were in almost full contact from knee to shoulder. I was giddy with it.

He was charming the socks off my friends. They were deep in some conversation involving comparisons between ancient Greek and Hebrew that I wasn’t quite following because I was too busy gazing besottedly at the side of Frank’s face. The moon gave his skin a lovely glow. He almost seemed to form a silvery halo around him. I felt pulled to him, but given that he was in the middle of a conversation, the most I could do was lean my cheek against his shoulder. So I did.

I felt him sigh under my weight, and then wrap his arm around my waist. I was content.

Where to Buy

Falling Hard is currently available through the secure downloading platform PayHip, Amazon, Apple, and other sellers worldwide. You can read a preview and find sales outlets at:


To celebrate the release of Falling Hard, Dale is running a giveaway. The prize is one of Dale's short romances that is not in the anthology: Love Unmasked, a lighthearted romance about Aaron Loreto, a gay man who's been unlucky in love because he occasionally turns into a raccoon. For some reason, his ex-boyfriend didn't like the way he'd spend all night digging through the trash. But somewhere out there is a guy who's more understanding, and Aaron might just have found him at his favorite coffee shop.

You can enter every day to increase your chances. Enjoy!

(If you can't see the Rafflecopter giveaway here, go to to enter.)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Author Bio & Links

Dale Cameron Lowry lives in the Upper Midwest with a partner and three cats, one of whom enjoys eating dish towels, quilts, and wool socks. It’s up to you to guess whether the fabric eater is one of the cats or the partner. When not busy mending items destroyed by the aforementioned fabric eater, Dale is a writer and editor who enjoys wasting time on Tumblr, listening to podcasts, studying anatomy, getting annoyed at Duolingo, and reading fairy tales. Previous careers include sign language linguist, grocery store clerk, journalist, gardener, and camp counselor.

Dale began writing for fun at the age of eight and has been making up stories ever since, from overly workshopped literary fiction to off-the-cuff fanfic. Queer Mormons have a way of popping up in Dale's work, whether it's romance or erotica, sci fi or fairy tales, slice-of-life contemporary fiction or spine-tingling horror. So do immigrants and emigrants, people with disabilities, multilingual folks, and others who live their lives navigating multiple cultures.

Tuesday 14 February 2017

Happy Valentine's Day from Lee Fisher

From now until February 18th, get three smoking-hot M/M BDSM erotica stories for only $0.99 each!

Use the following coupon codes for Smashwords checkout:

Belladonna - LZ72RL

Night Out - VD92M

Night Out is re-releasing just in time for Valentine's Day, with two brand-new sex scenes!

Liam comes home from work to find only one conversation heart left in the candy bowl. It says, Bite Me. His lover, Jason, produces the other candies and tells him the heart left in the bowl is a clue. The only other clue is that they’re going out for dinner. Normally Jason is terrible at keeping secrets, and he almost always cooks for them. Liam has no idea what Jason has planned.


Working my way from the base of his throat, I kissed a line down his chest, nuzzling the sparse patch of hair between his pecs. He was panting softly as I continued lower, my hands sliding down his arms so I could still hold him. When my tongue dipped below the waistband of his yoga pants, he spread his legs so quickly that he almost kneed me in the head.

“Cooking got you all hot and bothered again?”

“Ha, ha. I haven't been cooking. I've been rearranging the pantry.” He looked down at me, defiantly. He and I have a long-standing rule: if he ever arranges the spices alphabetically, I'm outta here. “No, I didn't.”

“Good.” I slid my hands under his ass so I could tug the elastic-waisted pants down. He wasn't wearing underwear.

“Bare ass on the counter, Liam!”

“I'll clean it. Unless you want me to stop?”

I could almost smell his mind working on that one—dirty kitchen counter and sex, or clean counter and none?

He nodded, briskly, squirming a little to help me undress him.

“I thought so,” I told him, smugly.

“Shut up,” he said, very softly and without any heat.

“Make me,” I said, pulling his pants down around his ankles and gagging myself very effectively.

After a few minutes, Jason laughed, pushing me away. “The counter isn’t exactly the most comfortable place to sit,” he reprimanded, gently. “If we’re doing this—and we are—let’s go somewhere more comfortable.”

I licked my lips cheekily, grinning up at him, my hand slowly stroking over his spit-slick dick. I was impressed he could still talk, and I’d definitely have to do something about that. “All right. If you want to go all the way upstairs to the bedroom...”

He whined, a high-pitched, wordless sound of frustration. He visibly struggled with himself, then said, “Couch. But put down a blanket first!”

While he might allow brief nudity on a wipeable surface like the counter, there was no way either of our bare butts were ever going to touch his white leather couch. He had brought it into the relationship, and if we ever broke up, God help him, it was going back out with him.  

After covering the couch in a soft blanket, I returned to the kitchen and picked him up again, grunting a little with effort this time—carrying him was a lot harder than just setting him on the counter. I laid him out on the couch, taking a moment to just drink in the sight of him, naked and aroused and wanting me.

“You’re beautiful,” I murmured, smiling softly.

He blushed, then threw a pillow at me. I could see his hips rolling ever so slightly, and I didn’t think he’d let me stare for long without touching him.

“Can you sit up? Gorgeous as you are like this, it’d make things easier.”

He nodded, cheeks still pink, before swinging his legs around and spreading them wide to give me easy access.

I knelt on the flokati rug in front of him, one hand on each of his thighs, just breathing on him for a moment, taking in the scent of his arousal, letting him feel my warm breath on his skin.
He moaned, and I imagined his eyes fluttering shut, but he only gave me a moment before grabbing a handful of my hair—more roughly than usual; what had he been thinking about before I got home?—and pulling me down and forward.

I resisted, just a little, teasing him, drawing out his pleasure because I could and because he wouldn’t tell me what he was planning. I licked his head, relishing the sound he made. He released my hair, petting the top of my head instead of pulling, giving me room to do what I wanted with him. I hoped he’d regret that freedom, that he’d grab me again and force himself deep—but not yet.
I opened my mouth for him, slowly drawing him past my lips and my carefully-covered teeth. I closed my eyes, concentrating only on the feeling, the taste of him, my tongue dancing over his naked cock, exploring.

He moaned again, and the sound had a sharp, needy edge. I felt his hand flex in my hair, but he didn’t pull.

I shifted back a little, giving myself more room to move. Still bracing myself with a hand on each of his legs, I drew away from him until only his head was in my mouth.
His hand tightened again. I was getting to him—triumph.

Taking him as far as I could comfortably again, I slowly built up to a rhythm, feeling him buck and thrust beneath me when I drew back, then sigh and relax when he filled me. I could feel, taste how close he was, but I wanted to make him wait, to make him beg for it, if only with his hand in my hair. He wasn’t there, not yet.

I hummed softly, and he cried out above me. I felt his fingers tense, but they loosened again. I hummed again, taking him just a little deeper than I could manage comfortably for long, then pulled back, leaving him wanting.

He was breathing faster, harder now, getting close to the edge. Right where I wanted him.
After a few more cycles——I slid off entirely, only my hand stroking him now.
He keened, a sound of betrayal.

I looked up at him. Our eyes met, and just for an instant I saw him hesitate before his hand tightened in my hair again, and didn’t release this time. He pulled me down, hard, so my nose was buried in his thick pubic hair. He gave me a little shake, showing he meant it this time.

I pulled back just enough to reach him, and I took him as deep as I could, using speed now more than moving my head all the way forward and back, my tongue lashing him closer to the edge.

He cried out, his whole body tensing, and came down my throat. I swallowed, eagerly, milking every drop out of him with my tongue and lips until he was still again, hand slowly stroking my tangled hair.

“Wow,” he gasped, when he could speak again. “That was—”

“Worth the delay?”

He made a soft grunt that wasn’t quite agreement, but he couldn’t honestly say no.
I lazily stroked his fine, brown hair. He had been dyeing it blond when we first met, insisting that his natural color wasn't fit to be seen, but I had asked to see it grown out just once, and when I hadn't run for the hills, he had let it be.

“Where are we going tonight?” I asked, hoping a little sex had loosened his tongue.

He stuck said tongue out at me, twisting in my arms a little so I could see it. “Not telling.”

“Oh, very mature.”

“And using sex to get me to talk is?”

“Yes. Because sex is mature.”

Lee Fisher is the erotica pen name of T. Strange. Lee has been married to his Sir since 2009, exploring BDSM as a submissive masochist. Lee started writing erotic fanfiction over a decade ago, and now he’s thrilled to share his fantasies and wicked thoughts with you.

Also by Lee Fisher
Night Out
Fucked by Two Stepbrothers - Coming soon!
Stepson's First Time - Coming soon!

Kinky Biker Series
Boots & Leather
Lock & Key - Coming soon!

Follow Lee on Twitter: @authorleefisher
Like Lee on Facebook

Valentine Author Blog Hop - Giveaway!

It's Valentine's Day, and that means it's time to share the love! Make sure to stop by and check out all these other lovely authors. 

1.Nicki J Markus / Asta Idonea ( Giveaway)2.Louise Lyons
3.Anne Barwell 4.Kelly Jensen
5.DM Roberto6.Nikka Michaels
7.Cauldron of Eternal Inspiration8.Drawing Love by Tully Vincent
9.A. E. Wasp - new Veterans Affairs steamy short10.Hermit & Star Books
11.Antonia Aquilante12.Layla Dorine
13.T. Strange 

Enjoy a short Valentine's excerpt from My Zombie Boyfriend!

Valentine’s Day.
I’d thought about buying Kit a box of chocolates. A teddy bear holding a heart. A dozen roses. A diamond.
I did none of those things.
Reminders of What Had Happened Between Us were suddenly everywhere, in the hearts and cupids decorating every surface. I felt as though, wherever I went, people knew Kit and I had slept together and were silently congratulating or judging me. Kit introduced me to a few of his classmates-cum-friends, and to my surprise, I liked them.
 I hoped they liked me, too, and I waited for that infernal day to end so Kit and I could get back to the comfortable awkwardness we had been living in since our night together.
My concentration in class suddenly tripled. I hadn’t realized how much I had been coasting since I had found Kit, or how much I had missed my professors’ praise. I felt like I was coming out of hibernation and seeing spring happening all around me, and it was corny as hell.
I didn’t care.
When we got home, Bone was standing on the sidewalk in front of my house, smoking and leering at pedestrians and drivers as they passed.
I hurried him inside before he raised too many questions from my neighbours.

Monday 6 February 2017

GONE FOR YOU by Riley Hart + Giveaway!

GONE FOR YOU by Riley Hart
Wild Side Series: Book 1
M/M Contemporary Romance

About the Book: Oliver Hayes wears his heart on his sleeve, and his friends never let him forget it. Every Friday night spent at Wild Side, their favorite West Hollywood bar, Oliver’s lack of hookups becomes the hot topic. It’s not that he doesn’t want a good time. He just wants it to mean something, which is a lofty goal when he’s still pining after his childhood crush, Matt, who left ten years ago to start a new life in New York City.

Matt Daniels has always felt most at home seated at a piano. He might not have entirely fit in with his family and friends, but he was always able to find himself in music. Or at least he did before he gave up his dream a lifetime ago. Now, he has a successful modeling career and should be enjoying every second of it. Yet nothing feels right, and Matt fears he’s losing himself.

Just when Oliver decides to get over Matt for good, Matt waltzes back into LA. As Matt struggles to understand what he’s missing in his seemingly perfect life, he falls right back into leaning on Oliver for support. Things aren’t what they used to be between them, though. They tumble into bed together, and it’s hard not to continue ending up there. For the first time in years, Matt’s inspired to compose again, reigniting a spark he thought long extinguished.

But as always, Oliver can’t keep his heart in check, and soon Matt realizes he’s gone for Oliver too. The biggest question is, can he fully give himself to someone if he still hasn’t figured out how to love himself?

Preview of GONE FOR YOU
Oliver opened the door and took one step into the room before his eyes hit Matt. Matt sitting on the side of his bed wearing nothing but a pair of black shorts. His dark brown hair looked wet as it hung against his forehead, a veil between Matt’s eyes and him. Had he showered before he’d gone down to play? Tried to talk himself out of it the same way Oliver had forced himself not to go downstairs?
Matt’s right leg bounced up and down like a jackhammer as he looked at the floor and didn’t speak. Oliver didn’t either. He didn’t know what to say, so he just took another step into the room, and then another.  
It was then when Matt’s head tilted up, that he shook his hair off his forehead and his eyes met Oliver’s searing with something that he didn’t understand. He thought maybe there was some pain in there…a little confusion, but more that Oliver couldn’t read.
His breath caught when Matt pushed to his feet. The shorts hung low on his slender hips, and he was sure Matt didn’t have underwear beneath them.
His chest was smooth. He had a light trail of brown hair that dipped below his shorts, which hung so low he could see the top of Matt’s pubes.
Despite how thin he was, too thin if you asked Oliver, his muscles were well defined. He had a lean six-pack that rose slightly as Matt breathed.
Jesus, he was so fucking sexy, so beautiful it seemed unreal.  
Matt moved toward him again. His gaze turned more predatory as chaos erupted inside of Oliver—pain and confusion and lust…was that what he saw in Matt too? Lust was the missing piece?
His thoughts went haywire, snapping and buzzing with years of pent up energy. And then he was moving toward Matt too. He didn’t know what they were doing, didn’t know where it came from—at least on Matt’s part—but the second they met in the middle of the room, their mouths crashed together. Matt’s hand slid behind his head, cupped it with his fingers, tangled in Oliver’s wet hair. Oliver’s fingers locked onto Matt’s lean hips, felt his hipbone press into his hand and he wanted to get on his knees and taste them. Wanted to lick and suck and explore every fucking inch of Matt’s body with his tongue.
“What are we doing?” he asked when Matt’s skillful mouth traveled down his throat.
Matt sucked on the spot where his neck met his shoulder, before he replied, “I don’t know, Ollie. I just know…know that I need you right now.”
He could hear Matt warring with himself, hear it in the rough edge to his voice. Feel it in the way his body tensed up when he said the word need. It wasn’t easy for Matt to need anyone or anything, but Oliver would take on the fucking universe to make sure Matt had it. There wasn’t a time in his life when he wouldn’t, but this moment right here? He couldn’t pretend this was just for Matt. Couldn’t pretend he wasn’t greedy for him, that the fire searing through him for Matt was based on anything more than his primal hunger for the man. To have him, take him, fuck him, even if it was only once. He’d wanted Matt for years, loved him since he was a kid—and as they stood in the middle of his room, Matt’s hand running up and down his back, his cock pressed against Oliver’s leg, he damn sure planned to have him. In that moment, he didn’t give a shit about the consequences.

Riley Hart is the girl who wears her heart on her sleeve. She's a hopeless romantic. A lover of sexy stories, passionate men, and writing about all the trouble they can get into together. If she's not writing, you'll probably find her reading. Riley lives in California with her awesome family, who she is thankful for everyday.

Some of Riley's favorite books:


THE RETURN by Brad Boney

TWO BOYS KISSING by David Levithan


She is also addicted to chocolate and pictures of sexy men. She spends way too much time playing on the internet. 

Riley loves hearing from readers. You can contact her at rileyhartwrites at 

Get New Release Alerts from Riley.

Riley on Twitter ~ Riley on Facebook
Riley's Amazon Page ~ Riley's Goodreads Page

Friday 3 February 2017

Treasure Hunt - Shira Glassman

When the Empress sends her Imperial guards Vasily and Aleksei into the dragon's cave to steal treasure, they doubt the existence of the dragon and take advantage of the time alone in the dark to drink vodka and fool around. Little do they know, the dragon is watching Vasily's expert domination, and he likes what he sees!

This story features a sentient but not human narrator.

Moving in slow motion so that I wouldn't make noise, I crept through my piles of coins and gems, my crowns, and my art from forgotten civilizations. I could see in the dark, and I wanted to keep an eye on these two, as well as an ear.
I peered over the top of a ledge that overlooked the clearing they would reach if they kept following the water. Nothing yet, but the footsteps were getting stronger.
The glare of lanterns, dancing against the walls as they walked, heralded their invasion. When they came into view, I studied the two intruders.
They were dressed in the uniforms of the Empress's imperial guard. A smart black jacket with a flared skirt and a high, stiff collar accompanied black trousers and sturdy black boots. Hanging from each man's side was a sheathed dagger. Of course my eyes went straight to the shiny silver buttons that held the jackets closed...I like shiny things. Don't look at me that way, what else were you expecting?
One of the men was very tall, broad, and generously-stomached, with hooded eyes peering over a beard. His hair was in a short, scruffy ponytail and he filled out the uniform nicely. The other I might call an aging pretty-boy, with wavy hair and a sculpted, clean-shaven face. I guessed that he was probably the whiny one, Aleksei. When the conversation started again, I found I was right.
“Still no dragon—and still no treasure.” He swung his lantern around in an arc, and I ducked into the shadows briefly.
“No, just a nice, peaceful chamber to sit down and eat our lunch,” said Vasily. “Unless you're afraid the smell of knishes will attract dragons.”

Shira Glassman is a bi Jewish violinist living in north central Florida. Her books have been shortlisted for the Bi Book Awards and Golden Crown Literary Society Awards.

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