Wednesday, August 28, 2019

Guest Post: Tim Smith Talks The Neon Jungle (Nick Seven, Book #6) #Excerpt #interracial #contemporary #eroticromance #mystery #thirller #action #eXdd

When two former spies help a friend with a problem, they cross paths with a vicious mobster in the neon jungle of Miami’s South Beach. Get ready for trouble in paradise.
In the laidback Florida Keys, former spies Nick Seven and Felicia Hagens found a paradise far removed from the covert world of the CIA.

Saturday, August 17, 2019

Lynn Michael's Talks of Lines On The Mirror (Love On The Line, Book #1) #mm #erotic #contemporary #romance


I woke up late and rolled over, throwing my pillow on the floor. I didn't have a headache, but my brain still felt foggy. Nothing a good cup of coffee couldn't cure. I staggered into my kitchen to start up my pot, thankful that I had milk and sugar this time.
Running my fingers through my hair, I thought about the party and Alec kissing me. It had been nice. Alec made me feel wanted. Wendy had too. She had danced with me, even after Alec had put his arm around my shoulder and kept it there. I liked them and should have...should have what?
Shaking my head, I poured my coffee, adding the coveted milk and sugar, and sipped it, walking back into the dining room and sitting at the table. I opened my laptop, and Daltrey's profile picture popped up on the screen, right where I'd left it.
Daltrey.
His number was still in the pocket of my slept-in jeans. He had been everything to me. There wasn't really a decision to be made. I needed to rule my own life and do the things I wanted to do and to hell with anyone else. I picked up my cell and dialed the number.
A female voice answered on the third ring. "Daltrey Boxbaum's office. How can I help you?" Girlfriend? No way. Daltrey was gay like me. Wasn't he?
"Uh... Yes. I'd like to speak with Daltrey." My voice shook with fear.
"Sorry, he's unavailable. Can I help you?" she sang back at me lyrically.
"No, uh, it's personal." What was I going to say? I should have taken more time to think things out.
"I'm Jenny Heathers, his personal assistant. I may be able to help." Her voice sounded a little flatter this time, frustrated.
I let out a long breath that I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "Can you give him a message? Tell him I called?"
"Sure. Name?"
"Martin Hannan. H-a-n-n-a-n, Hannan." I spelled my name, maybe out of habit. Then gave her my cell number.
"Okay, Martin. I'll tell him. Have a great day."
Well, at least I didn't think she was his girlfriend. Maybe.

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