Category Archives: just a category

New release from Jackie Keswick: Healing Glass—excerpt, links, and story notes from the author

Romance Across the Rainbow is happy to host Jackie Keswick today, touring with her new MM fantasy romance, Healing Glass. Welcome, Jackie!

A dying city. An ancient, forgotten accord. And two gifted men caught in a web of greed and dark magic.

Despite belonging to different guilds, glass master Minel and warrior captain Falcon are friends. Their duties keep them apart, but when Minel falls ill and chooses death rather than the only known cure, nothing can keep Falcon from his side.

As their friendship grows into more, old wrongs and one man’s machinations threaten the floating city and leave both Minel and Falcon fighting for their lives. Can they learn to combine their gifts to save the city and its magic, or will everything they know and love perish before their eyes?

Healing Glass is an LGBT fantasy adventure with its head in the clouds. If you like medieval backdrops, impressive world-building, three-dimensional characters and a touch of magic, then you’ll love Jackie Keswick’s socially-conscious adventure.

Buy Healing Glass to visit the floating city today!
Payhip Store—offers a lower price than mainstream retailers
Books2Read—universal link
Kobo
Apple Books
Barnes & Noble
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Amazon CA
Amazon AU
Amazon DE


Notes about the story from Jackie Keswick


Hi everyone, I’m Jackie Keswick. And I’m very grateful to Lou for inviting me to the blog to chat about my new release, fantasy novel Healing Glass.
Healing Glass, the story of a glass master, a warrior, and a floating glass city, is set in a medieval-style world, which is a historical period I love. It’s also a historical period I like to bend and fiddle with.

Medieval society in Europe was very structured, with each person knowing their place in the world. Tradespeople in particular had organised themselves into a complex system of guilds as a means of keeping skills together, supporting one another, and training the next generation. Those medieval trade guilds were my starting point for the world I’ve built in Healing Glass.

All the traditional guilds exist in my world, but at the heart of Healing Glass are three very special guilds. The Craft Guild, the Warriors Guild and the Merchant Guild are collectively known as the Gifted Guilds, because each guild member has talents that reach beyond their craft.
Members of the Craft Guild create objects and enhance their creations to soothe, cheer, heal, protect or bring good fortune. Warriors shape minds and use their powers to protect and aid each other. And merchants shape circumstance, transform one reality into another one at will. You can hire them and pay them in coin, or in favours – and for countless generations this system has worked very well.

But what happens when you bend carefully wrought magic out of shape? When you change its purpose to suit yourself? Well… then you put a whole world and a floating glass city in danger.

Excerpt from Healing Glass

Half a mile above the surface, a deep, rumbling groan rattled through Favin’s bones and turned his guts to water. The elevator jerked and shuddered—long enough for Favin to wonder whether he’d left his errand too late—before it resumed its stately progress up towards the floating city.

The groans and jerks came more often these days, on almost every journey. Despite the trickle of ice-cold fear, Favin welcomed the noise and stuttering ascent. He’d raised the alarm weeks earlier, but no one had believed the word of a servant. No one but Councillor Teak, who now clung to the transparent wall on the far side of the elevator, face grey and eyes wide.

The City Council would believe Teak.

“Is… this… why you wanted me to accompany you?” Teak spoke louder than necessary in the tight confines of the chamber bearing them aloft.

“Yes, Councillor. I reported it several times, but—” Favin stopped, loath to criticise the council. “I felt you had to know what’s happening.”

Teak, resplendent in a well-cut black coat and lace cuffs under his scarlet robe of office, didn’t belong in an elevator filled with rows of stacked crates, bins of cloth, and rolls of parchment, even when Favin hadn’t packed the space as full as he usually did. The councillor didn’t need the experience of a full cargo run, of squeezing into a gap just large enough to get in and out of. Never mind that he wouldn’t have fit. The servants joked that were the councillor hollow, one of them could fit inside his frame with space to spare.

Teak enjoyed his food as much as he enjoyed his status and privileges, but he hadn’t lost all sense of his responsibilities. When Favin had asked for his help, he’d only grumbled a little before agreeing to investigate the matter. Now here he stood, pressed against the transparent wall, gaze riveted to the crate in front of him, not daring to look down.

Favin watched the sea and the sky over Teak’s shoulder, wishing—as always— that he could see the city as they made their way towards it. The freight elevators didn’t allow for such a view, and Favin’s work rarely left him the leisure to sit on the beach.

Four levels of squat glass tiers and elegant spires connected by sweeping stairs and graceful bridges, suspended high above the waves by a raft of near-invisible columns… the floating city had stood waiting at the edge of the ocean when the Craft Guild arrived in need of shelter. Nobody knew its builders. Nobody quite understood how it worked. The city kept its occupants warm and dry, the glass walls closing or receding depending on the weather. Fountains supplied water in every square, and in all the buildings. The middle tier of the city—a wide, level space between the double-story, flat-roofed dwellings of the lower level and the skyward-reaching spires of the top tier—had been given over to growing food. All other goods the inhabitants needed came via the trade guilds and the Merchant Guild. The craft masters could have anything that fit into one of the eight large elevators, whether it came by land or sea, while men like Favin ensured the goods arrived where they were needed.

The groan came again, more of a pained shriek now, like the death cry of a material used too long and too well, as an abrupt slip downward hurled both Teak and Favin to their knees.

Then the sounds stopped.

The downward movement stopped.

And the elevator resumed its unhurried climb.

Sweat pearled on Teak’s brow and upper lip by the time the transparent cabin reached its goal. “Can we… not use this elevator?” He stepped off the floating disk before he turned to ask.

“It will delay deliveries, Councillor.”

“How many journeys do you make in a day?”

“Some days as many as fifty.”

“And the noise and the… jerking… have been getting more frequent?”

“Yes. I’m told the other elevators show the same signs of trouble. And in the upper city, the glass is said to be weeping.”

“Weeping?”

“That’s what I’ve heard, Councillor. I’ve not seen it.”

“No, of course not.” Servants of Favin’s class had no access to the upper levels. “Thank you, Favin, for bringing this to my attention.”

Favin bowed to the councillor before he set about unloading the cargo into the hands of the waiting servants. The council would decide whether to shut down the elevator or keep it running. He’d done as much as he could do, given his station. He’d said his piece and had had a councillor listen.

He continued with his work, until words drifting through a half-open door stopped him on his way to deliver rolls of parchment and ink to the council chamber.

“Weeping is the only way to describe it, Wark. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“And you think it’s going to be a problem?” The clipped tones were the regent’s and Favin froze where he stood, listening.

“Of course, it’s a problem,” Teak argued. “Go and see for yourself if you don’t believe me. There’s liquid glass welling up out of the column and trickling down its length. What do you think will happen if the glass wears away doing that? Or if the whole column turns to liquid? Will it continue to support the upper level in that state, or will it run into the sea and disappear?”

“Calm yourself, Teak. I’m sure there’s no need for panic.”

“You would know, of course.” Teak said snidely. “But I say you should listen. There’s more than one of those weeping spots in the upper city. The freight elevators jerk and groan, and servants are buying out their contracts, happier to make a life elsewhere than work here.”

Then it is serious, Favin thought, glued to his spot. More serious than I knew. Positions with one of the three gifted guilds were hotly sought. Only the king’s court paid better wages, and with the high prices in the royal city and port of Allengi, those wages didn’t go nearly as far.

“We must deal with this, Wark. Before it is too late.”

“Repairs to the city’s fabric are the task of the glass master. I will make sure he attends to the problem.”

“Minel is an outstanding craft master.” Teak bristled as if he had heard something in Wark’s comment that Favin had not. Something he disagreed with. “Most sought after, despite his youth. His list of commissions is near endless and he earns—”

“There are no other glass masters in the guild. Minel is our only choice if we want to fix the problem you’ve brought to my attention.” Regent Wark sounded oddly gleeful.
“No. You can’t— What if—?”

“You can’t have it both ways, Teak. You can’t bring me a problem and then object when I solve it. Minel’s work and his designs pay a large part of the city’s debts. I’m not so stupid I’d interfere with that. But if the fabric of the city fails, all the money and favours we’re owed will be no use to us. It’s fortunate that Minel cares about nothing but making glass. He doesn’t have the stomach for confrontation. I think… I think this will work out very well. Minel will accept that we direct his work and we can add another treasure to our collection. I have waited long enough.”

Jackie Keswick Bio and Links

Jackie Keswick was born behind the Iron Curtain with itchy feet, a bent for rocks and a recurring dream of stepping off a bus in the middle of nowhere to go home. She’s worked in a hospital and as the only girl with 52 men on an oil rig, spent a winter in Moscow and a summer in Iceland and finally settled in the country of her dreams with her dream team: a husband, a cat, a tandem, a hammer and a laptop.

Jackie loves unexpected reunions and second chances, and men who don’t follow the rules when those rules are stupid. She blogs about English history and food, has a thing for green eyes, and is a great believer in making up soundtracks for everything, including her characters and the cat.

And she still hasn’t found the place where the bus stops.

For questions and comments, not restricted to green eyes, bus stops, or recipes for traditional English food, join her in Jackie’s Kitchen on Facebook or find her in all the usual places:

Website: http://www.jackiekeswick.com
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/ctY9RD
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JackieKeswickhttps://twitter.com/JackieKeswickhttps://twitter.com/JackieKeswick
Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/JackiesKitchen/
FB: https://www.facebook.com/JackieKeswick
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jackiekeswick/
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/jackie-keswick


Thanks for visiting, Jackie, and best of fortune with this new book. Readers, once again, thank you for reading RATR. Do feel free to leave a comment!

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Filed under Book tour, just a category, M/M romance, New M/M releases

Angel Martinez: The Mage on the Hill—excerpt, giveaway, and the author’s thoughts on Magical Hospice

I’m excited to welcome to the Rainbow Gate Book Blog author Angel Martinez, with her new release Mage on the Hill.

The Mage on the Hill - Angel Martinez

Angel Martinez has a new MM fantasy book out: The Mage on the Hill.

Toby’s wild magic is killing him. The mage guilds have given up on him, and it’s only a matter of time before he dies in a spectacular, catastrophic bang. His only hope is an exiled wizard who lives in seclusion—and is rumored to have lost his mind.

The years alone on his hilltop estate have not been good for Darius Valstad. After the magical accident that disfigured him and nearly drowned Pittsburgh, he drifts through his days, a wraith trapped in memories and depression. Until a stricken young man collapses on his driveway, one who claims Darius is his last chance.

For the first time in fifteen years, Darius must make a choice—leave this wild mage to his fate or take him in and try to teach him, which may kill them both. The old Darius, brash and commanding, wouldn’t have hesitated. Darius the exile isn’t sure he can find the energy to try.

Publisher | Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CAN | iBooks | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | QueeRomance Ink | Goodreads


Giveaway

Angel is giving away a $25 Dreamspinner gift card with this tour. For a chance to win, enter via Rafflecopter:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d4762/?


Excerpt

Mage on the Hill - Angel Martinez

It’s killing him. We have to end this.

Too cruel to force him to keep struggling.

I don’t understand. He should be finding a minor channel at least. Something. He shouldn’t be at this level of physical distress and still be able to throw so much.

We can’t condone pushing on. Dangerous for him and for everyone in a five-mile radius. We’ll have another Darius situation on our hands.

You’ll tell him?

As soon as he’s able to hear it, yes.

Toby drifted from gray misery to scarlet agony, the voices floating to him in fits and starts. His instructors, the director—they were talking about him and they sounded done with him, just like the previous six guilds that had tossed him to the curb. Wild magic. Unplaceable on the web of Arcana. Unsustainable and eventually deadly. The only remaining bets anyone could make now were how many people he took with him when he went out with a catastrophic bang.

Hands lifted him. The familiar sensations of stretcher and rolling followed him down into the dark.

***

“What’s this?” Toby peered at the papers on the rolling tray, not quite up to focusing through his pounding headache.

The director pulled a chair close and cleared his throat uncomfortably. “We discussed that this might be a possibility someday, Tobias.”

“We’ve talked about a bunch of stuff.”

Director Whittaker let out a sharp sigh.

“Not saying it to be a smartass, sir. I can’t get my eyes to read this just yet.” Toby shifted on the infirmary bed. His fifth stay in this wing of the guildhall and the mattresses hadn’t managed to grow any more comfortable. “Couple hours I should be able to.”

“Ah. My apologies.” The director returned to a concerned parental pose, hands clasped between his knees as he leaned forward. “These are your separation papers from the Montchanin Guildhall.”

Toby swallowed hard. “You’re giving up on me? Already?”

“I’m so sorry, Tobias.” Director Whittaker patted his arm. “The Kovar method is nearly infallible—”

“Nearly. You said nearly.” Despite his pounding head, Toby sat up, hanging on to the director’s hand as hard as he could. “Please don’t do this. You said you’d help me.”

“We said we would do the best we could. Wild magic…. It’s unusual, certainly, but cases of unplaceable wild magic like yours aren’t unheard of. We should have seen some sign of channeling by now. Some directed trickle that would have let us help you find your place in the web.”

Toby let go to fall back against the pillows, hurting, nauseated, and dizzy. His uncontrolled magical explosions, each one harder on him than the time before, had only been getting more volatile and unpredictable. “I don’t have anywhere else to go. Can’t I stay here? Until, well, until….”

“It’s too dangerous for the other students. For the staff and other guild members.” Director Whittaker took his hand again. “Tobias, you blew a hole in the guidance room’s wall today.”

Ten feet of weapons-grade Kevlar and steel—that shouldn’t have been possible. Holy crap. “Did I hurt anyone?”

“Not today. But I can’t risk lives any further. It’s reached that point where we’ve tried everything we could. When you feel up to it, read the packet. There are several wonderful hospice options nearby. Beautiful places where you’ll be cared for and made comfortable. The guild will take care of you and cover any expenses.”

Drugged to the eyeballs so I won’t do any more damage. Allowed to starve to death in the nicest possible surroundings. Toby closed his eyes, his exhausted brain banging up against walls of possibility, trying to find him a way out. All this time he’d been sure one of the guilds would find a way. They were the experts. Now? Now he was terrified. The experts were telling him he needed to accept his impending death. No, no, no, fuck that. “Sir, who’s Darius?”

“Ah, you heard that, did you?” The director sat back and pulled out a microfiber cloth to give his glasses a meticulous cleaning before he went on. “Darius Valstad caused one of the greatest magical disasters in recent memory. He nearly destroyed Pittsburgh. He pulled magic too far from his channelings, the result much like a wild magic accident. The catastrophe was narrowly averted.”

“Oh. That sounds about as bad as it gets. What happened to him?”

“He nearly died. His guild status was revoked, his teaching of any more students forbidden.”

Toby turned that over a few times, his brain fumbling and dropping concepts along the way. “So, but he’s still alive?”

“As far as I know. He lives in isolation, oh, not far from here, with the promise that he will no longer attempt anything beyond personal magic.”

“But he was once like me? And he lived?” Toby knew it was conclusion jumping, but he was desperate enough to reach for anything.

The director’s sigh was slower this time, more melancholy. “Tobias, he found his channels long ago, both his major and minor Arcana. Yes, he lives because as long as he respects the web, his magic won’t tear him apart. He had some early success with teaching unplaceables, but Pittsburgh was the ultimate result of his unorthodox methods.”

“Yes, sir. Of course.”

Director Whittaker rose with one last pat to Toby’s shoulder. “Get some rest. We’ll talk again in the morning. Please keep in mind we’re not simply turning you out onto the street. We want to be certain you’re looked after properly.”

Toby nodded, no longer trusting his voice. He didn’t turn his head to watch the director leave, staring at the white ceiling tiles instead. Ugly ceiling tiles. Places where you have to lie in bed like hospitals and infirmaries should have nice ceilings with meadows and bunnies painted on them. I don’t want to die. Oh gods… I don’t want to die.

Magical Hospice

In the world of the Web of Arcana, mages live alongside normal humans, sharing most of their society. Groceries, real estate purchases, technology – for most things, a mage’s life isn’t any different from regular humans. But they have authorities and laws of their own in addition to regular human government and some parts of life are necessarily kept separate.
Birth, since magic can get loose during a mage delivery.
School, since mage children need to learn things not in a public school curriculum.
Death—since at the end of things, control can slip.
If you’re thinking that death has been on my mind a lot recently, as in the last couple of years, you would be correct. My mom, his dad, aunts, cousins, in-laws, the cat who had been my companion for twenty-four years, there’s been a bit of it to deal with. While some hit harder than others, when attending multiple funerals in a short space of time, you start observing how people react to death and dying.
That second part is a bigger piece of it than people are ready for. People talk about the stages of grief and funeral arrangements, executors and after-effects. I don’t think we talk enough about the process of dying.
My mom’s deterioration from Alzheimer’s took years, as it often does. For the most part, we kept her home except for a couple of hospital/rehab facility stays because of pneumonia and such. Eventually, she began to lose mobility and her doctor started making house visits and talking to us about hospice. Dad was very resistant to hearing about it. The old view of hospice is that you leave someone there to die. Of course, that’s not the case, and the doctor emphasized something that Dad and I both needed to have said. Alzheimer’s is a terminal diagnosis, even though it takes years sometimes.
There are a lot of hospice options and we opted for in-home. The hospice workers acted as support, physical help, equipment wranglers, and educators. They were wonderful. They helped us, all of us, through this process of dying every step of the way and cried with us when it was over. A few months later, the family opted for in-hospital hospice for my father-in-law, and again, the environment was one of quiet, gentle support and information.
Not everyone needs to or has the chance to go through this process, but it’s made a huge impression on me, as you can probably tell. So when I wrote The Mage on the Hill, I wanted to be sure there was a hospice option for mages at the end of their lives. While their hospice system is also used for another purpose, that’s not the fault of hospice. I wanted to have beautiful, well-run facilities available so that elderly mages and their families could have that choice, to be eased through the process.
Not the most lighthearted post – sorry about that. But when you encounter the hospice system in the story, I hope I’ve made it clear that the wonderful hospices themselves were not the problem.

Author Bio

Angel Martinez

The unlikely black sheep of an ivory tower intellectual family, Angel Martinez has managed to make her way through life reasonably unscathed. Despite a wildly misspent youth, she snagged a degree in English Lit, married once and did it right the first time, gave birth to one amazing son, and realized at some point that she could get paid for writing.

Published since 2006, Angel’s cynical heart cloaks a desperate romantic. You’ll find drama and humor given equal weight in her writing and don’t expect sad endings. Life is sad enough.

She currently lives in Delaware in a drinking town with a college problem and writes Science Fiction and Fantasy centered around gay heroes.

Author Website: https://angelmartinezauthor.weebly.com/

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/amartinez2

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

Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/AngelMartinezrr

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1010469.Angel_Martinez

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/angel-martinez/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Angel-Martinez/e/B001KHMFTG

LOGO - Other Worlds Ink

Thank you OWI and Angel for including the Rainbow Gate Book Blog as a stop on your tour. Congrats on the release, and best of luck. Readers, I appreciate you stopping by to read, and as always, your comments are quite welcome.

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Filed under Book tour, just a category, M/M romance, New Release

Modified and Scared: new novella—sci-fi romance—from Jana Denardo

Romance Across the Rainbow welcomes old friend Jana Denardo to share her new book, Modified and Scared!

Blurb Lieutenant Addison Hunt is proud to serve the Confederation even if he still feels like he’s on the outside looking in. Addison was illegally genetically modified as a child, leaving him burdened with a sense of shame. Emotionally isolated from his fellow crewmen and recovering from injuries from his last job, Addison is happy to have light duty transporting an esteemed diplomat to a peace conference.

Deveral is one of the Sacred Kin, possessing a psychic ability that his people consider a spark of the divine. Like all the Sacred Kin, he’s led a sheltered life as a temple priest, but his heightened empathic ability makes him the perfect diplomat. Nervous to leave his home, he’s curious about his new companion, Lieutenant Hunt.

Not everyone wants the diplomatic mission to succeed, and a rebel faction poses a real threat to Addison and Deveral. Finding themselves cast adrift on a “lost” colony, they’ll have to fight to stay alive.

Excerpt

Addison wondered about his passenger as Deveral watched Fyria fall away in the view screen. The dossier said the Sacred Kin had not been off-planet except for a few trips to the moon. Deveral’s odd, goat-like eyes with their spooky horizontal-bar pupils grew bigger and bigger the smaller Fyria became. His opalescent skin started turning light gray, blending him into the shuttle seat. Even his hair faded from the same fiery opal his skin had been to the hue of smoke. He realized this change might mean his companion was nervous, but it also fascinated Addison. Was his hair alive? Could it be cut? Did his hair not grow any longer than it was, like a dog’s fur?

After a half hour, Fyria long gone from the screen, the silence weighed on Addison. He had spent his youth in relative quiet and now longed for a constant stream of sound. He studied Deveral, wondering if he waited for Addison to say something. Then a nasty thought struck him: maybe the Sacred Kin didn’t think he needed to speak to the “help.” Addison chided himself. He hadn’t gotten that impression from him when they’d toured the temple gardens. For someone so important, Deveral seemed relatively normal.

Unfortunately, looking at him made Addison’s pulse roar like the aft thrusters on a T-17 Starblazer. Beautiful, graceful, and sexy as hell, Deveral left Addison breathless. What sort of diplomatic nightmare would result if he set out to seduce the Sacred Kin? Addison pictured his aunts skinning him and using his hide as a seat cover for their command chairs. His knowledge gaps when it came to the Fyrian were big enough to pilot the shuttle through, but the dossier had a complete medical profile in case things skittered sideways. While there were several major differences, camouflaging skin for one, they were close enough to humans to interbreed with a little genetic help.

Addison shook his head. He needed to be far more professional in thought than he was at the moment. The motion caught Deveral’s attention because his eyes flicked over, and Addison found himself staring into one of Deveral’s golden eyes rotated much farther to the side than any human could achieve. Fantastic peripheral vision had been one of the line items in the medical profile, an evolutionary adaptation to having once been prey.

Buy Links: Ninestar Press

Amazon

Smashwords

Barnes & Nobles

Kobo

Amazon UK

Bio Jana is Queen of the Geeks (her students voted her in) and her home and office are shrines to any number of comic book and manga heroes along with SF shows and movies too numerous to count. There is no coincidence the love of all things geeky has made its way into many of her stories. To this day, she’s still disappointed she hasn’t found a wardrobe to another realm, a superhero to take her flying among the clouds or a roguish star ship captain to run off to the stars with her.

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Thanks for visiting, Jana, and congrats on the release! Readers, comments are always welcome! Thanks for stopping by.

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Filed under Book tour, just a category, M/M romance, recent release

Book Tour: Sin City #2, Copping an Attitude—Morticia Knight on Revisiting Old Book Friends (and an excerpt!)

Romance Across the Rainbow welcomes Morticia Knight, on tour for the release of the revised and expanded Copping an Attitude, book 2 in her acclaimed Sin City series.

Survival is all Slade understands until Parker saves him from the terrors of the streets. Too bad the streets won’t let Slade go…

Hustler Slade has had little choice over his fate. Barely twenty years old, he’s had to survive any way he can after being thrown out for being gay when he was still in his teens. As soon as he hit Vegas, Slade was lured into the hopeless world of prostitution where he’s become a virtual prisoner to his pimp, the ruthless Julio Estevez.
It’s another typical night on the Strip when officer Parker comes across Slade. His heart breaks every time he sees someone so young being exploited. Yet something in Slade’s eyes tells Parker the young man might be in real trouble—especially after the recent wave of sex worker killings by a rival prostitution ring.
The two men’s lives become intertwined when Slade is almost beaten to death. The danger grows, but so does the relationship between Parker and Slade. Parker helps Slade to heal from the horrific attack and their bond deepens. But the human traffickers are still on the prowl—and they’ll stop at nothing to steal Slade back.

Publisher Note: This book has been revised and expanded from the original edition that was published under the same title at Totally Bound Publishing in January of 2015.

Amazon US, Amazon UK, Amazon CA, Amazon AU, Amazon DE, B&N, Kobo, Pride Publishing, First for Romance

Revisiting Old Book Friends

When I originally wrote the Sin City Uniforms series beginning in 2014, I had six books planned, but a seventh snuck out and the outline for an eighth installment also emerged. In addition, in the interest of publishing and deadline schedules, I either had to cut scenes rather than spend time fleshing them out or not write them at all to begin with. The eighth book never happened, since I’d moved on to other projects that demanded my time. I never forgot about Jamal from Station 32 and how he needed his HEA. But what makes an author decide to go back and revisit an old series?

There are so many reasons why an author might decide to do a rerelease on previous books and series. Sometimes, they didn’t have control over the cover or edits and want to get it done their way the second time around. Other times, they feel their writing has grown so much that they’d rather show off their characters in the best light possible by having a do-over. In the case of a couple of my Uniform Encounters series (which is mostly off the market for now), they were outdated, and/or possibly inflammatory given the current climate in the US. For Sin City Uniforms, I had several motivations.

Let’s talk about covers. My original covers were amazing, I adored them artistically. But again, because of deadline pressures, some of the models were so far removed from the characters in the book, I almost felt like what’s the point of having a guy on there at all? And other than the series’ name, they didn’t convey much as far as the crime/mystery element of the stories. And as silly as this may sound, I’ve become a much better blurb writer. I’ll confess, I had no idea what to do when I first got published. I’d wrongfully assumed a pro would be handling that aspect for me!

But one of the biggest reasons I wanted to revisit all my boys from Sin City, is to get the chance to tell their full stories. Add back in or expand the scenes that I’d originally wanted to be included but couldn’t due to deadlines. Once I began that process, then I just had to tell Jamal’s story! Poor guy. I’ve left him hanging all these years…

Here’s an excerpt from Copping an Attitude (Sin City Uniforms 2) which was just released. The expanded editions of the rest of the series will be coming out one to two months apart the rest of the year, with Jamal’s story arriving the beginning of 2020. This scene is when Parker, a patrol officer on The Strip, and Slade, a sex worker, first ‘meet’ after a foot pursuit:


Right as his quarry rounded the corner to duck down a pathway to Bally’s hotel rooms behind the main casino, Parker launched himself forward. He grabbed the smaller man around his neck, their combined momentum knocking them both to the ground. Parker threw his free hand in front of them, hoping to keep his larger body from crushing the kid as they tumbled down.

A loud whoosh of air was wrested from the young man as Parker landed on top of him, and he knew he’d only been partially successful at keeping his weight off his suspect. The kid struggled and fought like a wild cat. Even though he was smaller than the guy Parker had just arrested, he was much more determined. Desperation seemed to fuel his efforts and the kid’s pleas clutched at Parker’s heart. The young man’s terror seemed genuine and, somehow, it didn’t strike Parker as being caused by the fear of going to jail.
“Please.” His cries were muffled by their continued battle. “Let me go. You don’t understand. You have to let me go, man.”

“Stop resisting, son. You’re only making things worse for yourself.”

“I’m not your son, you fucker! And nothing could be worse…” He strangled down a sob as his voice trailed off. “Nothing.”

His body went limp as if in defeat. Parker hauled him up to a standing position, using one hand to clutch his collar and the other to grip his arm. The boy winced.

“Are you hurt?”

Deep blue eyes lined in black stared up at him, defiant. But behind that façade was a deep sadness that threatened to crush Parker’s heart even more.

“What the fuck do you care?”

He’d tried to make his voice sound cocky, tough. Parker was used to the attitude he received from the various lawbreakers he interacted with daily, but he still believed there was something different about this one. It wasn’t his job to interfere with individuals, only to bring them in and—when appropriate—offer relevant social services information. Personal involvement was off limits.

“I care more than you probably think.”

Author Morticia Knight spends most of her nights writing about men loving men forever after. If there happens to be some friendly bondage or floggings involved, she doesn’t begrudge her characters whatever their filthy little hearts desire. Even though she’s been crafting her naughty tales for more years than she’d like to share—her adventures as a published author began in 2011. Since then, she’s been fortunate enough to have several books on bestseller lists along with titles receiving recognition in the Rainbow Book Awards, Divine Magazine and Love Romance Café.

Once upon a time she was the lead singer in an indie rock band that toured the West Coast and charted on U.S. college radio. She currently resides on the North Oregon coast and when she’s not fantasizing about hot men, she takes walks along the ocean and annoys the local Karaoke bar patrons.

Morticia’s Social links:

Website/blog, Amazon Author Page, Facebook Author page, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, Wattpad


Thanks for visiting, Morticia! Come back soon! Readers, comments are always welcome, and thanks for reading.

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Jay Hogan on Rugby, New Zealand, and new release Crossing the Touchline

Romance Across the Rainbow welcomes author Jay Hogan, on tour with her new installment in the series Auckland Med., Crossing the Touchline. We’ve got the links, an excerpt, and a unique post from the author!


A contemporary New Zealand romance from Dreamspinner Press

What if you’ve worked your whole life for a dream, to play rugby for the most successful sports team on the planet, the New Zealand All Blacks?

What if that dream is so close you can smell it?
What if you meet someone?
What if you fall in love?
What if your dream will cost the man who’s stolen your heart?
And what if the dream changes?

Reuben Taylor has a choice to make.
Cameron Wano is that choice.

(Part of the Auckland Med. series that includes ‘First Impressions’
Can be read as a standalone.)

Amazon
Dreamspinner Press

Excerpt:

Reuben

I parked my screaming muscles on the ludicrously small chair beside
my locker, sweat dripping from every square centimetre of skin, and
shocked stupid by the brilliant game I’d seemingly squeezed out of
nowhere. The roar of fifty thousand screaming fans was still ringing in
my ears from the final whistle, and the official prize-giving was already
a forgotten blur. Except the part where I won man of the freaking match.
Holy fucking shit.

I’d done a brief stint in front of the media for that little gem, but
the coaches had taken pity on me after that, and following an obligatory
few comments about how I was just one of the team and how honoured
I felt, blah, blah, blah, I was allowed to sneak off to the change rooms
relatively unmolested. And that’s when the whole shebang really hit me,
and why I’d yet to move a muscle off the damn chair.

Nothing in my body or brain was firing how it should. I was so
damn shell-shocked by the experience, I could barely string a couple of
words together. And when I was finally able to drag my attention from
the floor to my fellow teammates busy eyeing me with amusement… and
yeah, approval, I nearly burst out of my skin with pride.

A pair of Predator boots stopped in front of mine, at the same time
as a hand clapped me on the back. “Fucking A, Taylor. Where the fuck
you been hiding that all week?”

I locked eyes with Andrew Simons, who was wearing the same
shit-eating grin I’d had plastered on my face since the final whistle.
“Thanks, man. I’m just so damn glad I didn’t disappoint, you know?
Not like you didn’t have a great game too, though. Fucking amazing
tackle on McKenzie. He was a shoo-in for that try if you hadn’t brought
him down.”

Andrew shrugged. “Maybe, but it hardly compares to the two tries
you brought home for us, you glory-grabbing bastard. And where the
hell did you learn to offload like that? Johan’s still grinning from ear to
ear. Not often a prop gets to score under the posts. We’re not gonna hear
the end of it—you understand that, right?”

I did. I laughed. “Fuck. And you don’t even have to share a room
with him. Hey, I must qualify for a room upgrade now, though, right?
The guy’s snoring is intense to say the least.”

Andrew snorted. “Fuck off. He’s gonna drive us all nuts with that
try shit. If anything, you’ve earned yourself a longer sentence.” He
roughed up my hair and moved on, doing his congratulatory rounds of
the change room.

Head coach Gary Knowles—hardly the most talkative of men—
approached with a sly smile and a proffered hand. “Well done, son. You
did us proud. We want to see more of that in the future.”

Hell yes. I’d take that. It damn near constituted a sermon of praise
from Knowlesy. Pride swelled in my chest and my hand automatically
reached for my phone, but as desperate as I was to share my high with
Cam, I was worried how awkward it might be for him since we hadn’t
yet talked.

I thought of calling my father instead. Didn’t. Fuck him. He hadn’t
even bothered to contact me since the game ended.

An incoming text buzzed in my hand and I glanced down. Cam. Yes!
Just seeing his name damn near brought tears to my eyes.
It had been his win as much as mine, and tomorrow I’d tell him exactly that.
Every time things threatened to go pear-shaped on that field tonight,
I thought of him and what he’d tell me. His sass to my ear. And it worked.

Congrats! Two tries. Fucking brilliant. So proud of you. See you
tomorrow.

The lump in my throat threatened to choke me. Proud. Cam was
fucking proud, of me. It was the only message I needed. His, the only
opinion that truly mattered. Grinning like a loon, I wanted to see him so
badly. I’d have given anything to walk out that dressing-room door and
have him waiting.

Jay Hogan on New Zealand, Rugby, and Writing

When I first started writing mm romance, ‘Crossing the Touchline’ was the story I really wanted to write and get published but it didn’t feel like a ‘first book’. To that end, I wrote and had published ‘First Impressions’, the first in the Auckland Med Series, and it is in that book that you meet the character of Cameron Wano for the first time.

New Zealand is a rugby mad nation, (including me), and the All Blacks with their 120 year history, really are arguably the most successful sports team on the planet. They have a win rate of over 77%. They are not a national team. They are an international representative side so all their wins are against other top-flight international teams. They don’t play together in any national competition.

The mystique of the All Blacks is buried deep in the NZ and international rugby psyche. Maybe because we are such a tiny nation, 4 million-ish give or take, but we punch well above our weight in international sport, nowhere more so than in rugby. It is a full-contact, hard sport and physically punishing, a fact that has only added to its tough-man image. There are no pads, no helmets and no subbing on and off the field to give anyone a break. You get subbed off, you stay off.

To this day there has never been an out gay All Black, although there have been lots of rumours of course. The rugby scene is slowly becoming more diverse and inclusive, and all the protective policies are in place. The NZ Rugby Federation even got the rainbow tick but they have yet to be tested at All Black level so we shall see. I for one cannot wait! The All Blacks and NZ Rugby have earned a rainbow tick for their inclusive policies but they have yet to be tested, and although on principle the openness and policies are in place to welcome the concept, it is likely to be the rugby mad public, both nationally and internationally that will offer the biggest challenge.

What is interesting about that, is that the All Black aura is so powerful that having an out gay All Black will likely carry more weight internationally, and attract more press interest (read huge) than an out gay player in any other international rugby team.

Ma’a Nonu, an All Black who played over 100 tests and who simply liked to push the fashion boundaries a bit, caused an international stir when he ran out onto the field once wearing guyliner. It rated headlines from South Africa to Taipei, everyone wondering if the incident would put a dent in the All Black tough man image. Honestly!

It’s like the rugby world is holding its breath for the day, and I think that creates an added pressure which will make it even harder for that first player to come out. In ‘Crossing the Touchline’, I also wanted to push that boundary even further, wondering what would it be like if that first out gay player had a partner who didn’t and wouldn’t pass for straight. After all, saying rugby is ready for an out gay player isn’t necessarily the same as saying it’s ready for Cameron Wano.

NZ as a whole is a fairly inclusive country with a longer history than many of championing LGBT rights protected by law. Marriage equality happened in 2013 but more importantly there has been a good representation of the LGBT community in parliament itself. Georgina Beyer was the world’s first openly transgender Mayor 1995-2000 and went on to be the world’s openly first transgender Member of Parliament 1999-2007.

There is, nevertheless, a strong pocket of homophobia still present in NZ, especially within the rugby/sporting arena. I loved writing this book and especially developing the character of Cameron Wano. He will always be one of my favourites: sassy, strong, mature, living his truth, and playful with gender and dress.

But more importantly for me, was the idea of developing the relationship between Cam and Reuben, with Cam playing a very strong lead physically. I love that switch up. It went along with challenging the rugby stereotypes too. When we say the All Blacks are ready for an out gay player, I think most people think of a very masc type of guy (which would probably be true for the All Black partner due to physique requirements etc) but what about their partner? Is rugby, the nation and the international scene, ready for someone like Cameron Wano? We won’t know till that happens.

About Jay Hogan:
Jay Hogan is a New Zealand author writing in m/m romance, romantic suspense and fantasy. She has travelled extensively, living in a number of countries. She’s a cat aficionado especially Maine Coons, and an avid dog lover (but don’t tell the cat). She loves to cook- pretty damn good, loves to sing – pretty damn average, and as for loving full-time writing -absolutely… depending on the word count, the deadline, her characters’ moods, the ambient temperature in the Western Sahara, whether Jupiter is rising, the size of the ozone hole over New Zealand and how much coffee she’s had.

You can find Jay at:
https://www.facebook.com/JayHoganAuthor
https://twitter.com/jayhoganauthor
jayhoganauthor@gmail.com


Thank you for visiting, Jay! Come back soon. Readers, thanks for reading. Comments, as always, are welcome.

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J. Alan Veerkamp’s Innocence and Carnality blog tour: unique insight from the author, excerpt, giveaway

Romance Across the Rainbow welcomes J. Alan Veerkamp on his Innocence and Carnality blog tour. Read on for blurb and links, an excerpt, and a unique post from the author.

Innocence and Carnality - J. Alan Veerkamp

J. Alan Veerkamp has a new MM steampunk book out: Innocence & Carnality.

Innocence is his only currency.

The gilded cage of propriety where Nathan grew up as a member of the Deilian aristocracy became a true prison when, at fifteen, his homosexuality came to light and created a terrible scandal. His parents see only one way to preserve their reputation amongst the other noble families: fit Nathan with a chastity belt to increase his value to a potential partner and marry him off as soon as possible.

The recipient of that prize is Lord Rother Marsh Delaga III. After a hasty wedding, Rother whisks Nathan away to the strange and seductive land of Marisol, where Nathan will begin a new life, free to explore the pleasures of the marriage bed, though his life is still not his own.

But Rother’s Delaga House is a place of secrets, dangers, and depravity Nathan can scarcely comprehend. Where friends are few and peril waits around every corner, Nathan must employ all the manipulation he learned from high society, along with his talent for clockwork. Most of all, Nathan must adapt, compromise to survive, and cast off the preconceptions of his homeland.

Because only he can orchestrate his freedom, and it’ll come at a cost.

DSP Publications | Amazon | iBooks | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Google Play | Universal Buy Link


Giveaway

J. Alan Veerkamp is giving away a $10 DSP gift card with this tour – enter via Rafflecopter for a chance to win:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d4757/?


Excerpt

Innocence and Carnality Meme

“Who told you?” My mother, Lady Margaritte Valencus, huffed in disgust—or at least as much disgust as her practiced expression allowed. Perched on the settee’s edge, she sat tall with her poised back never touching the tufted, embroidered upholstery. A woman of her standing could be expected to do no less.

“Not the person who should have.”

Her lips pursed into a tiny, painted frown. “So in other words, your brothers are the culprits. Sometimes I think they delight in tormenting you, Nathan. I swear they’re like a pair of gossiping old women at times.”

My chest pinched at the news. “So it’s true.”

She paused for a moment and sighed. Having been through this herself, she must have understood my concern. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

I knew this day would eventually come, but the proof brought me to a morose silence. Amongst the elaborately decorated furniture of my mother’s salon, on the end table next to her rested a handcrafted hourglass. The elegant glass bulbs were suspended between a framework of brass and gears. All the fine sand had emptied to the bottom, marking the time left to choose my own future. I wanted to invert it, to start my chances over once again.

Mother turned to the small canvas atop the nearby easel and began dabbing a slender paintbrush to the surface. It was an affectation. The bristles were void of paint, and in my twenty years, I’d never seen her finish a single painting. The possibility of staining her sable and gold brocade gown was unthinkable. Women of Deilian lords were expected to fill their days with arts and crafts, while providing the proper trophy for their husbands.

I played along with her fiction, giving myself time to absorb my own reality. Finding the brass dial embedded in the wall along the ebony wainscoting, I gave it a slow turn. The tension of hidden cogs thrummed under my fingertips and the gaslights grew brighter, illuminating the sanguine, patterned fabric lining the walls, giving her more light to pretend to work with. In the late spring afternoon it wasn’t necessary, yet I did so out of polite habit.

“Thank you, Nathan.”

I leaned against the mantel, fingering the edge of my waistcoat. The layers were snug and tailored, the fine wool properly adorned with buttons of fine metal, befitting a young man of my status. In another hour or two, I would be expected to change into formal dining dress to eat. There were clothing standards for every aspect of our lives. Only certain hobbies were permissible, and employment outside of family investments was unacceptable for the nobility.

With little to spend my time on, I’d grown restless and found hobbies my parents frowned upon. However, if I gave them little trouble, they were content to allow me my eccentricities. How odd they must have found my love of clockwork mechanisms. The precision. The order. Given the expectations my parents laid at my feet, one might think I’d be more attuned to my future requirements. The prospect of a marriage held the hallmarks of opportunity and disaster all at once.

“Do you know who he is?”

“A business associate of your father’s. Lord Rother Marsh Delaga III from Marisol.”

“So far away?” I didn’t want to whine—I was accused of it often enough—but this house and land were all I knew. For all my complaints, I wasn’t prepared to abandon it and my family.

Mother gave me a dismissive shake of her head. “Marisol is an airship ride away. Not far at all.”

“Do you know when?”

“Lord Rother will be coming in two weeks to meet you and hopefully accept your father’s offer. I’ve made an appointment with the clothier. We want you to make a good first impression.”

Well, as if that didn’t make me feel like a commodity. “At least I’ll get to meet him first before I’m shipped off.”

Mother slapped her dry brush onto the end table in her displeasure. “Don’t be droll, Nathan. You know perfectly well how things are done.” “And what if I don’t like him? Will Father force me to go through with it?”

“Most likely. This is an important union for our family.” “He can’t do that.”

She paused for a moment for effect. “Of course he can. Under Deilian law, until you are married or turn twenty-five, your father has final say.”

Pacing in a circle, I waved my hands in the air. “Wonder of wonders…. All hail the land of Deilia.”

Her delicate snarl was sharp and potent. “Stop that. Given your… orientation, there have been pitifully few options in this area to find a suitable mate for you. You don’t remember because you were an infant, but since the plague struck, Deilia has been focused on repopulating. The Monarch demanded it. And because you are unlikely to bear children—”

I stopped and glared at her. “That’s not my fault.” Layers of ire deepened my anger. I hated when she spoke to me like a vacuous noble who’d never been taught a smidgeon of Deilian history. The mention of the Monarch in this context only made it worse. As if I could forget the day I met him and my fall from grace began.

Mother pulled a brooch from her collar. With a touch of her thumb, it spun itself out, expanding into an exquisite fan with translucent blades. Another affectation. I’d been scolded enough over the years to know she didn’t require fresh air to have an uncomfortable conversation. “No, it isn’t your fault, but it’s the situation you’ve been saddled with. It is our duty to follow the plan laid out for us.”


Reasearch for Innocence and Carnality


A Unique Post from J. Alan Veerkamp

Once I sat down to seriously plot out Innocence & Carnality, I had to start world building. The story revolves around Nathan and his arranged marriage to Lord Rother Marsh Delaga III. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t suspend disbelief enough to make this into a historical novel. Two men couldn’t legally marry in this fashion until just recently. So, I needed to make the setting an alternate world.

But even if we’re in a fictional setting, I wanted it grounded in reality. I wanted readers to forget these countries didn’t exist and immerse themselves into the book.

Nathan was always designed as a young nobleman married off to a man he’d never previously met. I needed a baseline for his upbringing, and I started, of all things, from watching Downton Abbey. (My partner and I are big fans.) Edwardian England held so many aspects I wanted. It wasn’t archaic in a medieval sense, but still contained all the social restraints. Nobles were wealthy and free to do as they pleases, but standards had to be maintained.

This made for a wonderful template to design Nathan’s world and character around. From the show, I looked into other websites of Edwardian England, taking the best parts and creating an etiquette for the aristocracy that would be grounded in reality, in though the lovely country of Delia doesn’t exist. This gave me a springboard to write about a young man of privilege who resists the demands made of him via his newfound betrothal, but finds himself with little choice over the matter. I even stole the British Royalty rule of the Royal Family being unable to wed without the King or Queen’s permission until the age of twenty-five, again to cement the situation in something people could connect with.

Another bonus of writing in an alternate world? It gave me the inspiration and opportunity to write in a steampunk setting.

I started on Wikipedia which clarified two different takes on the genre. Would I make the world more steam powered, or take the direction of clockwork driven technology? Clockwork sounded more elegant and gave me a hobby to give to Nathan.

After that I dug into several websites, but my favorite was the Steampunk Tendencies page on Facebook. I found some of the most gorgeous things! Wardrobe, furniture, and fantastic vehicles all sampled in a lovely, lovely package. Top hats and goggles, fine instruments, and technological marvels. Every one of them lent an atmosphere to the novel, giving me a visual reference to make the story richer.

It was a fine balance not to overdo the steampunk elements. Steampunk it is, but I’ve always believed the genre should be the setting and not drive the story. I wanted the delicate fan Nathan’s mother loves that expands from a simple brooch on her dress to be automatic rather than a sensational moment that diverts attention away from the tense discussion between her and Nathan. The clockwork details are woven throughout, but Nathan tells the tale. It is his story after all.

Ultimately, the research shaped the novel’s world, giving me the rules the plot needed to follow. And that’s essential to good world building, right? Nathan’s motivation are based on a life bound by duty. Making that world palatable for the reader as well as myself, makes the whole endeavor worthwhile.

Author Bio

While spending years more focused on visual arts, J. Alan Veerkamp never let go of his innate passion for storytelling, wanting to write and draw comic books when he grew up. Once he discovered M/M fiction, a whole new world opened filled with possibilities. Why couldn’t you have fantastic and dynamic sexy tales with an M/M cast? He started reading the online tales of authors like Night Tempest, Rob Colton, and Alicia Nordwell, which only fueled his need to create. Eventually he found GayAuthors.org, and with a little coercive nudge, started sharing his tales with an unexpected level of positive response. The experience and support gave him the courage to cross his fingers and aim for the world of M/M publishing.

Born and raised in Michigan, J. Alan continues to type away, wishing it was practical to use a noisy old-fashioned keyboard that clacks with each strike, if only to annoy his loving partner and spoiled miniature dachshund.

Author Website: https://jalanveerkamp.wordpress.com

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

Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/jalanveerkamp

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jalanveerkamp/

LOGO - Other Worlds Ink

Thanks to J. Alan Veerkamp and OWI for visiting Romance Across the Rainbow Please visit us again! Readers, thank you for stopping by. Your comments are always welcome.

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Dark fantasy by Natsuya Uesugi: The Seer of Ice and Sky—exclusive scene here!

Romance Across the Rainbow is pleased to welcome Natsuya Uesugi with a December 2018 release, The Seer of Ice and Sky. Read on for all the usual info plus a bonus excerpt!

COVER - The Seer of Ice and Sky

Natsuya Uesugi has a new queer dark fantasy book out in his “The Seer of Grace and Fire” series: The Seer of Ice and Sky.

Surviving the devastation of DarkFall, Timorn is now rightful King of Faerie. With evil lurking at the fringes between the kingdoms of the humans and the elves, the dark mage Dalannin travels to Dragonreise to forge an alliance with the Dragon King.

Timorn’s travelling party sets off on request from an elven emissary but dissent grows as the party passes through the human city of Ekhrine. As they stop at the Ecclesiastical University where the cleric Kabal translated The Legend of Arden prophesy, a demonic aura haunts their path.

Can Timorn forge an alliance with the dragons to ensure peace or will darkness drive a wedge between him and his magical twin Ethesian as they journey through the elven lands. Transgender heroine.

XLibris | Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CAN | Barnes & Noble


About the Series:

A human cleric translating an elven prophesy must bring the work to the high court at Kannon in faerie before DarkFall, the solemn anniversary when all the male faerie newborns were murdered 17 years ago. If the translation does not arrive in time, all is lost. Timorn, a 17 year old ranger travels the human towns hiring out his services. A mysterious elven woman hires him to take her to Kannon before DarkFall, and only he can lead her with his purple faerie eyes.

The evil Valkyris is amassing an army to attack Kannon at DarkFall insisting she possess the prophesy. Sending her dark mage Dalannin to infiltrate faerie, he marches his demon hordes towards Kannon and sneaks into the palace. Ethesian, the 17 year old faerie daughter of King Ailon plays the dragon lyre, a female magic. Yet recently she has started having prophetic dreams as if she were male. When a lie is revealed, Ethesian is tasked to study magic she must master before DarkFall. Will Timorn reach Kannon before the Valkyris and Ethesian master a magic she shouldn’t possess? Secrets and lies, revelations and wizardry, DarkFall is coming and so too the reluctant faerie who would be king. Learn more in the first book of the dark fantasy trilogy, The Seer of Grace and Fire.

The Seer of Grace and Fire starts the dark fantasy trilogy reviewers have called “Enthralling” and “A beacon of light for readers young and old.” The series continues with release of The Seer of Ice and Sky book 2. Book 3 The Seer of Flesh and Death will be released early 2020.


Giveaway

Natsuya is giving away an ARC of book one in the series – The Seer of Grace and Fire – enter via Rafflecopter:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d4758/?


Excerpt

Timorn squinted as he studied the elven emissary, Arhlamanel dressed in finery, yet his stance and mannerisms were less refined then Ihel’s. He sensed deception. His ranger skill told him the elf was concealing something about his identity,

“I am aware of dragon riders, but not of a dragon king in Arenth,” Timorn said, turning to Eanna, his mother the First Consort, for confirmation. Eanna shook her head, also unaware.

Arhlamanel nodded. “The dragons are elusive and secretive, Your Majesty. Only a few high elves dare to venture up the perilous paths into the ice mountains to entertain them. It is treacherous as the dragons carefully guard the priceless gems within their lands.”

Timorn gripped the arms of the throne, leaning forward. “At DarkFall, we saw an adult dragon. A rider in black sat atop its monstrousg form. Luckily the brunt of its power was stopped before it could let loose with abandon.”

“It is as we heard. Thus, the dragon king requests you come to Akrisia, to the mountains in the North. He has sent me as emissary, in partner with the high elves, to bring you to hear his message. A party of your choice is invited to travel along, including one named Ethesian, who is also summoned. But be warned. One who wad banished many years ago has returned and is making inquiries in the dragon lands. He goes by the name of Dalannin. There is much suspicion amoungst the elves. Do you know of him?”

Timorn gasped. If Dalannin was with the dragons, that could only mean danger. Timorn spoke authoritatively, immediately deciding based on the elf’s report. “Yes, we know Dalannin, and yes, my party and Ethesian will accompany you to Akrisia. Lady Eanna will remain and keep watchful eye on the crown.”

“Yes, my lord,” Eanna acknowledged the decree.

“You must come dressed as a ranger,” Arhlamanel added. “That is how they will know you: by your clothes, your faerie daggers, and your sword. The dragon king and his half-dragon army will join you at the dragon court, high in the mountains. The trek up the expanse is arduous and will require a full day of walking to reach once we arrive.”

“Had Dalannin already recruited dragon riders to his cause? Timorn hoped for a negative answer.

“Unknown your Excellency. I hope, for our sakes and all of Arenth he has not.”

Deleted Scene


The Cleric Kabal at the Ecclesiastical University Library

Kabal tapped his foot in annoyance holding the large leather bound Elven dictionary as the Sexton Eskelan engaged him in the hallway. Patience wearing thin, Kabal rolled his eyes trying to disengage from the conversation.

“Your translation of the Legend of Arden was masterful. The Vicar Josephinian as much as said so. All my night students debated it marveling at the copy in the sacred room in the library…” Eskelan droned on.

Realizing there was no ending this conversation, Kabal decided to force the situation. Clearing his throat and interrupting, “your students are teasing you so you won’t assign Elven translations for homework. They hate that as I hated it many years ago as a novice before doing my rotation with the elves.”

A clerical student in the hallway carrying a stack of books came towards Kabal and smiled, nodding in agreement as he passed, the Sexton none the wiser, his back to the youngster.

“How do you know that?”

“Elven magic,” whispered Kabal with an annoyed chuckle. “My friend, I have tarried long. The librarian will have my head if I do not return this elven dictionary. Two turns of the hourglass passed since I promised her. She will eat me alive. I must take my leave.”

Kabal walked away abruptly as Eskelan remained, shocked. Kabal shouted behind him, waving the annoyance away. “Your students are playing with you. Don’t let them get the upper hand or they will battle you to the death and lose faith. May the Goddess of Learning, Aitreya, shine on your good fortune and guide your teachings.”

Kabal chuckled to himself, knowing he belittled the Sexton, as he quickstepped the utilitarian hallway to the illustrious library, the massive structure off the Provost building, the darling of the Ecclesiastical University in the human city of Ekhrine. With its floor to ceiling engraved mahogany doors with golden dragon carvings, to its stained glass dome in the ceiling showing the elven creation story, and marble intricately patterned tile floor, the countless books that lined its shelves were known through all of Arenth.

Kabal had translated the Elven prophesy, The Legend of Arden in the library before DarkFall, a royal edict from King Ailon of Faerie, the prophesy it revealed had changed Faerie forever and installed the young reluctant ranger Timorn, raised by humble human parents, of faerie nobility to the position of king of all Itheria. It had been but weeks since Timorn had started rule and they had now set off on their journey to the elven city of Akrisia then onto the dragons.

Kabal sighed as he pushed in the doors to the library and saw Timorn seated at a back desk glancing at a book lost in thought. Sauntering up to the circulation desk where the librarian was glaring sternly, Kabal swallowed hard garnering his strength and steeled his nerves for the encounter. The librarian was wearing a red short cardigan over a white striped ruffled shirt and a long brown twill skirt as she stood in front of the circulation desk counter extending her hand, frown deepening as Kabal stepped slowly towards her, trying to draw out the coming attack.

“An Anayalee, es ailan, ie nemalas,” he sung out in the Elven tongue using the highest honourific to ensure no disrespect.
She harrumphed translating his words into the human language, “gracious and humble in spirit, Mistress Anayalee, you, Noble Lady, look exquisite… Don’t start on me, Kabal. Your sweet Elven words do not work. You should know better trying to sweeten the librarian’s ego.”

Kabal lowered his eyes and bowed handing over the dictionary. She went behind the circulation desk and put the book up to be reshelved and picked up an unlit white pillar candle in a metal holder, pulling a small wand out from under the counter wagging it at him.

“Fly right or I will light you up!” She smirked, voice raising and touched the wand’s tip to the wick igniting the candle.

“I know your power, and doubt I could withstand such a force,” chuckled Kabal knowing she would not take kindly to sarcasm. Having given her the wand when she had first come to work as the librarian years ago, he knew she had little patience for him and his bucking the library rules, using its gifts at all hours, not filling the ink well, slapping books closed, scraping chairs, leaving books laying around, and never cleaning up the one desk he used. Though he transgressed often, he knew she had a soft spot for him after all these years.

She picked up the candle and motioned to him to follow her down the side hallway past the Elven tomes back to the sacred incantations room. The hallway grew dark as they passed the relic room and the sacred books behind glass and came to the back of the library. The darkness of the area was caused by the magic that kept the incantations housed. Only those with permissions and a certain level of spiritual training were allowed in the area.

There was a large white sign with black letters above the incantations room writing in Elven, the human tongue and Jannai, the faerie language. It warned unauthorized patrons to keep out. The librarian went into her pocket with a large metal key ring and handed Kabal the candle as she opened the door. Placing her right palm flat on the door, other hand on the key, closed her eyes whispering, “incantations, smart and strong. Key to portals, spells long gone. Aitreya, goddess protect my life, open this room as I go inside.”

A purple circle with a an Elven sigil of warding lit up on the door, as the lock clicked, releasing. She pushed the door open slowly, and it creaked taking the candle back. “Close the door behind you.”

Kabal pulled closed the door, leaving them in a heavy darkness, the weight of spiritual power. Closing with a thud, a purple light rushed up the door frame as the celestial incantation sealed them inside The librarian brought her hand over the candle. “Escarna…” she whispered. The candle light flared lighting the entire room. Filled with magical instruments, Elven and Jannai spellbooks, alchemy tools and ritual items, the librarian walked Kabal over to the left wall with a rectangular spell suspended in a glass frame black text inscribed in the celestial ancient Jannai script used only for magic. A purple mist undulated in the boxy frame swirling around the spell.

Kabal spun taking in the room cluttered with ritual items, absentmindedly getting lost in the pages of an open Elven spell book, he snapped out of his reverie quickly coming over to the librarian waving to him.

“What is it? I can make out the ancient text due to my translation of the Legend of Arden from Elven into Jannai. This is a Jannai spell?”

“Yes, a teacher on his way to Amaralon brought it a few weeks ago passing through.”

“That spell is active. It is safe?”

“Watch…” The librarian brought the candle closer to the picture frame and the purple mist swirled faster revealing an image of a wide open room taking over the frame. There was a person in the view. They watched as the person came closer in a long black robe, thorn crown on their head, glaring red eyes, a faerie by their features.

Kabal’s eyes burst open backing up when he realized who it was. He grabbed the librarian’s arm pulling her. “Move away from it. This thing is evil…”

The frame lost its vision and went back once more to the undulating mist. Kabal dragged the librarian back to the door yanking it open and pushing her out. He carefully closed the door and she locked it with the key, purple light once more running up the frame as it sealed, protecting the room.

He shuffled her back to the circulation desk as she blew out the candle and returned it to its hiding place. “That was the Valkyris I saw.”

“Do not utter her name. Its very whisper is evil. I fear she may spy on the library. Did the teacher say why he gave you the incantation?”

“He said he needed it protected. One of his students delved deep into the darkness, conjured it against his training and was being controlled. The teacher banished the presence haunting the student but he could not neutralize the spell. The only logical remediation was to put it in the incantation room.”

“Do not go near it. I must hurry and tell Timorn. We may not be safe here,” warned Kabal and bowed to Anayalee rushing away.
Kabal slapped his hands on the desk forcing Timorn to look up from his book.

“What is it, Good Cleric? Your face as is pale as bone,” Timorn smiled, his eyes darting around the library fearing danger.
“There is evil magic here sealed in the incantation room. It is too close for my liking. The librarian showed me, Your Majesty.”

Timorn took one of his daggers off his leather belt and set it down on top the table. It was dormant, not giving off a blue glow which it did when there was faerie magic near.

“My daggers are calm. There is nothing to worry yourself about.”

Kabal looked up for a minute as Ethesian, Timorn’s twin, and magic dream seer passed behind him looking at the Elven tomes on the shelves. “Still, my concern lingers…”

“Be still, Cleric. We are safe. If there is faerie magic near, my daggers will sound the alarm and I will notify you immediately. Be at ease,” Timorn smiled and flipped the page in the book going back to what he was doing.

Kabal sighed and walked back to the librarian, wary, unable to be at ease. If the Valkyris knew of Timorn and Ethesian travelling to the elven city of Akrisia for more knowledge of the dragon that attacked Kannon at DarkFall, then once again tragedy could befall faerie.


Author Bio

Natsuya Uesugi is a cybersecurity analyst with an MBA in International Management and a minor in Japanese. He is author of the science fiction grydscaen series, the yaoi novellas and manga graphic noiz and The Seer of Grace and Fire fantasy trilogy. He creates all the illustrations for his books. He enjoys skydiving, cosplay, anime and writing poetry.

Author Website: http://www.natsukoarts.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/SeerofGraceFire

Author Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/natsuya_uesugi

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/natsuyauesugi

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4558587.Natsuya_Uesugi

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/natsuya-uesugi/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00J6EDQQ6

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Thanks to the author and OWI tours for including RATR, and thank you readers for stopping by. Comments are always welcome.

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Blog tour: O. E. Tearman’s The Hands We’re Given—giveaway, links, and exclusive insight

Romance Across the Rainbow welcomes O. E. Tearman, who is on tour with a unique futuristic sci-fi—sounds fascinating!The Hands We're Given - O.E. Tearmann

O.E. Tearmann has a new MM (trans) hard sci fi/cyberpunk tale out, book one in their “Aces High, Jokers Wild” series: “The Hands We’re Given.”

Aidan Headly never wanted to be the man giving orders. That’s fine with the Democratic State Force base he’s been assigned to command: they don’t like to take orders. Nicknamed the Wildcards, they used to be the most effective base against the seven Corporations owning the former United States in a war that has lasted over half a century. Now the Wildcards are known for creative insubordination, chaos, and commanders begging to be reassigned.

Aidan is their last chance. If he can pull off his assignment as Commander and yank his ragtag crew of dreamers and fighters together, maybe they can get back to doing what they came to do: fighting for a country worth living in.

Life’s a bitch. She deals off the bottom of the deck. But you play the hands you’re given.

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CAN | QueeRomance Ink | Goodreads


Giveaway

O.E. is giving away an eBook copy of “After Hours Game: A Wildcards Christmas: with this tour – for a chance to win, enter via Rafflecopter:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d4754/?


Excerpt

The Hands We're Given meme - O.E. Tearmann

The dark shapes of three drones flitted over the junkyard, blotting out the stars. Aidan desperately turned the keys, slamming his foot on the accelerator. The truck’s engine finally revved. Kevin flung open the passenger side door and leapt inside. “Go, go, go!”

Aidan slammed it into reverse and hit the gas. They jumped backward. Once the truck was far enough away from the fence, he changed gears and wrenched the wheel around. They bumped and rattled into the night as fast as Aidan dared without the headlights on. The heat of the engine would make them easy to follow for the drones’ thermal cameras, but the short-range guard drones couldn’t go too far from their base of operation before their programming called them back. Aidan just hoped they could outrun them.

He gripped the steering wheel so hard it hurt. He could feel the suit tightening down against his skin. His heart pounded in his chest. Kevin’s breathing was ragged beside him. Another burst of bullets sprayed the ground right in front of them. Aidan yelped and yanked the wheel to avoid getting hit. The truck jittered to the side. Aidan slammed on the gas. The desert night sped past in a blur of blue and red under the starlight. Slowly, the whir of rotors faded into the distance. Aidan’s grip on the steering wheel began to relax. Kevin pulled his tab out of the bag and set it on the dashboard, watching as the screen flipped through the security channels they’d hacked into, keeping track of the location of dozens of drones.

Finally, Aidan pulled up under an overhang of red rock and cut the engine. The wide-range security drones were due to make their fly-over soon. Better to stop for a while and recover, get back on the road when it was safer.

They sat in silence for a long time, listening for rotors over the quiet buzz of the night insects. Aidan rested his arms on the steering wheel and propped his chin on his wrist, watching the star-studded sky.

“You all right?” Kevin breathed. At some point during the drive, he had deactivated his slick suit.

Aidan sighed and leaned back so he could manually flip his face screen up.”Yeah. Think so. Banged my knee pretty bad. Your shoulder?”

“Bruised. Doesn’t feel severe.” Kevin shrugged.

“Um, good,” Aidan whispered eventually.

So. They were alive. They’d gotten out with most of what they’d gone in for.

At the expense of a bad bruise across Kevin’s cheek, that or worse to his shoulder, and an action that could have caused so much more.

Slowly, some of his anger seeped back. He took a breath. “You scared the hell out of me back there and acted like a complete gamma, Kev. Don’t do that again.”

Kevin ducked his head in a slow nod. “I’m sorry, Aidan. I—When I saw you like that, I guess I panicked.”

Aidan sighed. Kevin was normally so level-headed. He’d been utterly cool on-Grid, when Aidan had been scared shitless.

So why had he acted like this out here?

On the tab screen, the red dot of a drone approached their location. They waited in breathless silence as the long-range drone passed, not even the sound of whirring to announce its presence. The red dot moved out of range.

Aidan breathed out. Kevin looked up with a smile. So close. They were so close.

“That’s the last of them. A very fine night’s work if I do say so.”

Aidan tried to smile, but it faltered. “I didn’t get the holo board. That was the part we needed most.”

Kevin smirked as he pulled the bag up from the floorboard and into his lap. He rifled quickly through the materials they had managed to grab, yanked, and pulled out the board with a wink.

“Oh, I don’t know about that.”

“What? How…?” Aidan breathed, feeling the wave of defeat that had been threatening lift.

“Fell down the pile when you did,” Kevin whispered, grinning. “I simply grabbed it up. After all, I am the requisitions officer. Snatching things is my forte.”

A rush of joy shot through Aidan. They’d done it. They’d gotten everything. Nose to nose with Kevin, he grinned.

“Holy shit, we- Holy shit! You… wow. Kevin, holy shit! This is like one of your vids!”

Kevin’s eyes glittered like silver in the low light. “You know, if this is a vid, I know how the scene ends.”

“Yeah?” Aidan asked, still giddy with relief.

Kevin was still smiling, his teeth white outlines in his grin. And he was leaning closer. Aidan could feel the heat of his skin, his breath.

“Heroes always get a kiss at the end of the adventure. That’s the convention.” Kevin tipped his head, eyes holding Aidan’s. “Would the hero like a kiss?”

Aidan froze. Was Kevin actually… Was he…?

He wet his lips. His voice escaped as a whisper. “Am I supposed to be a hero?”

Kevin’s smile was soft now, and he was so very close. “I don’t see anyone else in the driver’s seat. So you must be.” Then he pressed his lips against Aidan’s.

Kevin’s lips were hot. Aidan’s brain turned inside out. Kevin was kissing him.

Kevin had started kissing him.

This was real.

He leaned into the warmth with a pleasure that was almost pain. This was only going to be a second, but if only this second would last.

Softly, Kevin drew back. “Was that okay?”

Kevin’s whisper barely made it through the buzzing in Aidan’s brain. He gasped in a breath. “Um, okay. Yeah.” He swallowed hard and forced himself to sit up. “We-we should get going home…”

Kevin nodded, eyes still holding his as he drew away. “I suppose we should.”


Aidan Headly wasn’t always the adorable anxious wreck of a commander who’s currently running the Wildcards in the Aces High Jokers Wild series. When he first appeared in my brain before I had any inkling of what his story would become, he was far, far different. Let’s take a trip down memory lane and explore how he became the character he is today.

Originally, Aidan was meant to be an antagonist of sorts. In his first story (which, thank goodness, never went anywhere), he was one of two point of view characters in a world that, in retrospect, was incredibly poorly conceived. I won’t go into the details, but suffice it to say that he was in the majority instead of the minority. In this original storyline, Aidan was still part of a rebel group, but he wasn’t a leader–and this group wasn’t fighting for freedom.

As second-in-command of this rebel group, Aidan was a confident sharpshooter and spy who would often go on dangerous missions into enemy territory with his sister, Naomi. He was a post-operative trans guy with a little bit of a wild streak.

Not at all what he is today, right?

When I started to put together this new world and storyline, Aidan began to shift. He initially was going to be a side-character as I focused on his sister’s storyline, But then I got too invested in his and Kevin’s relationship and changed directions. I decided I wanted him to be pre-op so I could explore my own dysphoria and discomfort in fiction. So he got a binder and a hormone regimen. He developed anxiety and depression as I realized those things in myself and started to learn to cope with them. In many ways, Aidan became a reflection of myself on the page instead of the vague character I’d originally imagined. With some additional kick-butt leadership and fighting skills.
He continued to grow and evolve as The Hands We’re Given went from rough draft to published book. At one point, I wrote his depression as so bad and so deep that it began to eclipse every other aspect of his personality. Obviously, that had to get toned back and tweaked. He had a bit of a pendulum swing between being a competent leader and hiding in his closet before things settled out into what I hope is a good balance.

There are some traits that stayed the same throughout this evolution, of course: he’s still a rebel, he’s still trans and gay, and he has a similar voice to when we started out. He still cares deeply for his friends and companions, and will still stick his neck out for them.

No matter how much Aidan changed through the writing process, he has always been close to my heart. I’m proud of the way he evolved and became the character who’s out in the world today. It’s a little like watching a kid grow up and sending him out into the unknown.

All I can do now is hope my readers enjoy his adventures.

Author Bio

AUTHORBIO

O.E. Tearmann lives in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains, in what may become the Co-Wy Grid. They share the house with a brat in fur, a husband and a great many books. Their search engine history may garner them a call from the FBI one day. When they’re not living on base 1407 they advocate for a more equitable society and more sustainable agricultural practices, participate in sundry geekdom and do their best to walk their characters’ talk.

Author Website: http://aceshighjokerswild.com/

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/wildcards1407/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18359444.O_E_Tearmann

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/O.E.-Tearmann/e/B07J62VX9W

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Thanks O. E. Tearman and Other Worlds Ink for letting RATR be part of the tour. I hope you’ll visit again!

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Filed under Book tour, Contests, just a category, LGBTQ+ fiction, New M/M releases

J. Scott Coatsworth’s Ithani blog tour: unique guest post, giveaway

Today, Romance Across the Rainbow joyfully welcomes J. Scott Coatsworth and his blog tour for his new release, Ithani. So good to have you here again, Scott!

Ithani
The final MM sci fi book in J. Scott Coatsworth’s “Oberon Cycle” trilogy is out – “Ithani”!

Time is running out.

After saving the world twice, Xander, Jameson and friends plunge headlong into a new crisis. The ithani–the aliens who broke the world–have reawakened from their hundred millennia-long slumber. When Xander and Jameson disappear in a flash, an already fractured world is thrown into chaos.

The ithani plans, laid a hundred thousand years before, are finally coming to pass, and they threaten all life on Erro. Venin and Alix go on a desperate search for their missing and find more than they bargained for. And Quince, Robin and Jessa discover a secret as old as the skythane themselves.

Will alien technology, unexpected help from the distant past, destiny and some good old-fashioned firepower be enough to defeat an enemy with the power to split a world? The final battle of the epic science fiction adventure that began in Skythane will decide the fate of lander and skythane alike. And in the north, the ithani rise…

Oberon Cycle Trilogy

Ithani Buy Links

Dreamspinner eBook | Dreamspinner Paperback | Amazon eBook | Amazon Paperback | iBooks | Barnes & Noble | Google Play | Kobo | QueeRomance Ink | Goodreads

Book 1: Skythane:

Dreamspinner eBook | Dreamspinner Paperback | Amazon Kindle | Amazon paperback | iBooks | Barnes & Noble | Google Play | Kobo | QueeRomance Ink | Goodreads

Book Two: Lander:

Dreamspinner eBook | Dreamspinner Paperback | Amazon Kindle | Amazon Paperback | iBooks | Barnes & Noble | Google Play | Kobo | QueeRomance Ink | Goodreads


Giveaway

Scott is giving away a $50 Amazon gift card and ten copies of “The Stark Divide,” the first book in his other trilogy, his other trilogy, “Liminal Sky,” with this tour. Enter via Rafflecopter:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d4753/?


Excerpt

Venin stood under the dome of the chapel, the waters of the Orn rushing past the small island to crash over the edge of the crater rim, where they fell a thousand meters to the broken city of Errian below.

The Erriani chapel was different from what he was used to back home. The Gaelani chapel in Gaelan had sat at the top of a tall pillar of stone, open to the night sky, a wide space of grass and trees that intertwined in a natural dome through which moonlight filtered down to make dappled shadows on the ground.

This chapel, instead, was a wonder of streaming sunlight, the columns a polished eggshell marble with glimmering seams of gold. Red creeper vines climbed up the columns, festooned with clusters of yellow flowers that gave off a sweet scent.

Both were bright and airy, but the Erriani chapel lay under a dome supported by fluted marble columns, a painted arch of daytime sky and the rose-colored sun blazing overhead.

The last time he’d gone to chapel had been with Tazim, before his untimely death.

Long before the troubles that roiled the world now.

Something drew him back. A need to reconnect with his past. To bridge the gap between then and now, between who he was and who he had become. Taz would have liked this place.

The chapel here had survived the attack, while much of Errian had not. The city below was a jumble of broken corrinder, the multistory plants that were the main building stock for the city. They would grow again, but the sight of the city’s beautiful white towers laid low struck him to the core.

So had Gaelan looked, after the flood.

Venin turned back to the chapel and unlaced his boots, baring his muscular calves before he approached the fountain that splashed at its center. The cool flagstone beneath his feet sent a shiver up his spine, and green moss filled the gaps between the stones.

Some builder whose name was lost to time had tapped into the river itself to make the fountain run, and the water leapt into the air with a manic energy around the golden statue of Erro, before falling back down to the pool.

Venin knelt at the fountain’s edge on one of the well-worn pads, laid his hands in the shallow water, and let his wings rest over himself, making a private place to pray.

Erro and Gael, spare us from danger and lift us up into the sky with your powerful wings. He gave Erro deference, being that this was his chapel, but he hoped Gael would hear him too. The god of his own people had been known to intervene in mortal affairs before, and if what Quince had told them about these ithaniwas true, they would need all the help they could get.

Venin’s wings warmed.

He looked up in astonishment to see the statue of Erro giving off an intense golden glow. His mouth dropped open, and he stood and stared at its beautiful male curves and muscles. Maybe the gods were answering him.

Venin reached up and touched the statue’s outstretched hand. The shock knocked him backward onto his ass, and he hit the ground hard, slamming into one of the marble columns.

Venin groaned, stunned, and reached back to feel his wings and spine. He seemed to be in one piece.

Taz would have laughed his ass off at the whole thing.

After a moment he sat up cautiously. He wrapped his arms around his legs and stared up at the statue, his chin on his knees.

The glow was gone.

Did I imagine it? He stood and felt the back of his head. A lump was already forming there. That’s gonna leave a mark.

Something had changed. Venin didn’t know what yet, but he was sure of that much.

He pulled his boots back on and laced them up. With one last suspicious glare at the statue, he turned and stepped out of the chapel, taking a deep breath of the moisture-laden air.

Then he leapt into the sky to soar down to the broken city.


Guest Post: Full Circle

Sometimes things come full circle.

Six years ago, I was an unpublished wannabe writer who had lost his way, knocked down by an across-the-board rejection of his first novel two decades before. I had gone almost twenty years without really writing, following other paths, but always wondering what might have been.
I ran across Robert Frost’s famous poem today, one I haven’t read in years:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference.

For years I lived with the doubt—the thought that I had taken the easy path, the road more traveled. Could I have made it as a writer, if I had just persevered two decades ago? Or were all those editors right?

Was I a talentless hack? My words, not theirs.

We were on vacation in Seattle, and Mark found out that one of his favorite authors, Rick Reed, was doing a reading at the University Bookstore. We decided to go, and ended up getting four authors for the price of one.

Rick read this really off the wall tale about gay guys and cats… even he said it was “either the best thing I have written, or the worst.” But although it was strange, it was still great to hear him read from his own work in progress—a real live published author.

One of the other authors at the reading was Lou Sylvre. I remember her well. She had such a presence, such an authory something that was immensely appealing to me. She read from one of her “Vásquez and James” books. I remember going up to her and telling her how I wanted to get back into writing, and how much I had enjoyed the reading.

After that, I started writing again, thanks in large part to a kick in the pants my husband gave me. But that reading was an inspiration—meeting these four amazing authors lit a fire under me to become like them.

Fast forward to last fall, when I was boarding a shuttle bus on the way to the annual Dreamspinner Retreat in Orlando—and who should I run into?
Lou Sylvre.

We’d both traveled different roads over the previous five years, roads that were not without their twists and bumps, but suddenly here we were.

And she remembered me!

This time we were both on the published author side of the fence.

We hit it off, and we hung out together and had a great time together at the retreat. And I told her how much she had inspired me.

Sometimes things come full circle, and we find ourselves in the place we always dreamed we would be. I’ve published six novels now with a seventh on the way, and twenty novellas and short stories. I am the author I wanted to be, six years ago in a brightly lit bookstore in Seattle.

And Lou Sylvre, who was there when it started, was also there to welcome me into the pantheon of writers. It’s kinda poetic, pardon the pun.

I finally took the road less traveled, and that has made all the difference.

Author Bio

Scott lives with his husband of twenty five years in a Sacramento suburb, in a cute little yellow house with a brick fireplace and two pink flamingoes out front.

He inhabits in the space between the here and now and the what could be. Indoctrinated into science fiction and fantasy by his mom at the tender age of nine, he quickly finished her entire library. But he soon began to wonder where all the queer people were.

After coming out at twenty three, he started writing the kinds of stories he couldn’t find at Crown Books. If there weren’t many queer characters in his favorite genres, he would will them into existence, subverting them to his own ends. And if he was lucky enough, someone else would want to read them.

His friends say Scott’s mind works a little differently than most – he makes connections between ideas that others don’t, and somehow does more in a day than most people manage in a week. Although born an introvert, he forced himself to reach outside himself, and learned to connect with others like him.

Scott’s stories subvert expectations that transform traditional science fiction, fantasy, and contemporary worlds into something different and unexpected. He runs both Queer Sci Fi and QueeRomance Ink with his husband Mark.

His romance and genre fiction writing brings a queer energy to his stories, filling them with love, beauty and power. He imagines how the world could be – in the process, he hopes to change the world, just a little.

Scott was recognized as one of the top new gay authors in the 2017 Rainbow Awards, and his debut novel “Skythane” received two awards and an honorable mention.

You can find him at Dreamspinner here, Goodreads here, on Amazon here, on QueeRomance Ink here, and on Facebook here.

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Note from Lou: Congratulations on the release, Scott, and thanks for that wonderful guest post, which touches my heart. I’m very glad you took that less traveled road and we met upon it. Thanks OWI, and thank you readers for stopping by. As always, comments are welcome.

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Filed under Book tour, just a category, M/M romance, Sci-fi

Blue Christmas—a new holiday story by J.R. Loveless available now!

Romance Across the Rainbow is happy to shine a spotlight on J.R. Loveless’s new holiday romance, Blue Christmas, which sounds like an intriguing read a bit different from the average story of the holiday season. And isn’t that cover a showstopper?

The blurb:

Christmas used to be a time of joy for me, but since my mother’s death three years ago the holiday has lost all meaning, becoming nothing but a harsh reminder of what I’ve lost. I’ve become bitter and skeptical of everyone around me, and the cold aloofness has kept me from being hurt that deeply again. But this year the thought of yet another blue Christmas alone sends me on a path that will change my life forever.

Genre: Romance, Contemporary Gay

Buy Links:
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/909631
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07KY576HC?ref_=pe_3052080_276849420


Excerpt:
Somehow, I managed to fall into a restless sleep and before I knew it the nurse came in to wake me up and bring me breakfast. I scowled at her as she raised my bed and set the tray on the table before me. I grimaced at the dried out eggs and hard toast. There was no way I’d eat this so I just pushed the table away. “Where are my clothes?” I demanded of her.

“They’re in the closet over by the bathroom, dear. Everything you came in with is in there.” She made a notation on my chart at the foot of my bed and then left the room.

I wanted to be gone before Carter got there. I slid from the bed, gripping the back of the gown closed. Cold air slipped under the hem and I winced at how chilly the tile felt on my feet. Everything was where she’d said. I bundled my clothes together and headed into the bathroom to get dressed. Maybe I underestimated Carter because when I came back out, he sat in the same chair from last night, a magazine propped open on one knee.

He looked up and smiled. “Ah, good, you’re already dressed. I took the liberty of going into your apartment and grabbing a coat for you since you were brought in without one last night. Also the little girl who lives next door to you wanted me to tell you Simba is okay and she’ll take care of him until you get home.”

I tightened my lips into a flat line. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I’ll take a cab home.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m already here and besides we have to stop at the lot and pick out a tree. Oh, I went by my parents’ house and snagged some of their decorations. My mom has so much of them she insisted I take some of hers.” Carter stood and held out the jacket. It was my favorite one, the one my mom had given me the year before she started to get sick. Though a little worn in some places, it still provided enough warmth against the chilly winds and snow.

“Thank you,” I said stiffly. “But I really don’t need a tree or decorations.”

Once again, he didn’t listen to me and waved away my refusal. “You can make me dinner on Christmas Eve and we’ll call it even.”

I shook my head and started to tell him no once again when the door opened and one of the orderlies came in with a wheelchair. “I can walk,” I protested.

“Hospital policy. Please have a seat, Mr. Lords. You’ll be out of here in no time.” The orderly gestured to the wheelchair.

With a sigh, I gave in and settled into it, embarrassed once again. Carter just silently followed along, a smile on his face. Once the papers were signed and I was outside of the front doors, I got out of the chair. I stepped in the direction of the nearest taxi, but Carter grabbed my arm and led me toward the parking garage. “I can walk on my own,” I said, disturbed at his touch and nearness.

“Of course you can. I just wanted to make sure you were heading the right direction,” he soothed. He stopped at a red pickup truck, unlocked the passenger door and opened it, waiting for me to get in. I glared at him, but slipped into the front seat. I breathed a sigh of relief to be out of the cold air, huddling deeper into my jacket.

Carter loped around the front of the truck and slid into the driver’s seat. Christmas music played from the speakers when the engine started. I crossed my arms and turned my head to stare out of the window as he drove.

About the author:
J.R. Loveless is a native Floridian who spends her days in an office physically, but mentally is frolicking between the pages of her imagination. Writing has been a lifelong passion for J.R. and she has pursued it from an early age, even winning awards in school and finally beginning her life as a published author in 2010.
She is a self-confessed Potterhead spending her days with her three furbabies and enjoying the major chapters on her long journey through life. One day she hopes to visit far off places and have grand adventures like those of the characters in her stories.

Contact Info:
Blog: http://jrloveless.blogspot.com
Website: http://www.jrloveless.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/theJRLoveless
Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/jrloveless
IG: https://www.instagram.com/jrloveless/
Email: jrloveless@gmail.com

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