Wednesday 27 August 2014

Book Blast: Deconstructing Channing by BA Tortuga




When they were young together back in their werecat pride, Bowie and Channing experimented with love and sex, as well as flirting with a threesome with their best friend, Emma. Channing and Emma both ran from their needs, leaving Bowie to break away and find his own life. Now a confident master dominant, Bowie discovers Channing again through a video of a consummate sub, one who Bowie knows he needs to find once more.
When Bowie shows up on his doorstep, Channing feels like a teenager again, all confusion and need. He doesn’t date his own kind, only humans, and he’s not in the market for a full time master. Bowie is impossible to deny, a force of nature, and while both men know they’ll have to think about Emma eventually, now is the time to see if they can get to know, and love each other, all over again.

Publisher: Ellora’s Cave

Cover Artist: Kelly Martin







About the Author:

Texan to the bone and an unrepentant Daddy's Girl, BA Tortuga spends her days with her basset hounds, getting tattooed, texting her sisters, and eating Mexican food. When she's not doing that, she's writing. She spends her days off watching rodeo, knitting and surfing porn sites in the name of research. BA's personal saviors include her wife (still amazing to say that), Julia Talbot, her best friend, Sean Michael, and coffee. Lots of coffee. Really good coffee.

Having written everything from fist-fighting rednecks to hard-core cowboys to werewolves, BA does her damnedest to tell the stories of her heart, which was raised in Northeast Texas, but has gone to the high desert mountains and fallen in love. With books ranging from hard-hitting GLBT romance, to fiery menages, to the most traditional of love stories, BA refuses to be pigeon-holed by anyone but the voices in her head.

batortuga@gmail.com
http://www.batortuga.com
http://batortuga.blogspot.com
https://www.facebook.com/batortuga
@batortuga on Twitter




Excerpt:

The trip was designed to give him time. Time to figure out what he was going to say to Channing Lanier when he saw the sorry son of a bitch again.

He could start with “Hey, you rat bastard. Amazing how you came out after you dropped me like a hot rock.” That would be fun. Or maybe, “I thought you weren’t into spanking and bondage, and your precious asshole was sacrosanct, but now you’re a bottom in the underground BDSM scene,” would work better.

Bowie wouldn’t even be going to see said bottoming asshole if it wasn’t for the flyer tucked neatly away in his briefcase.

Tawny Catnip.

Seriously?

Their Emma was a fucking stripper?

A Vegas stripper? The revue was touted as a classy burlesque show and topless nightclub called Catnip Crazy.

Hell, the crazy thing was that both of his ex-lovers had called him a goddamn perv.

Him. Because he’d wanted them both. Because he’d wanted Emma over his lap. Because he’d wanted to see Channing bound and on his knees between the both of them.

Fuckers.





Tour Stops: 
a Rafflecopter giveaway


No comments:

Post a Comment