Blog Tour - Sweet Giordan, Please Remember by Raine O'Tierney

Raine O'Tierney is here today as a part of her blog tour for her new release Sweet Giordan, Please Remember. Giordan comes out today from Dreamspinner Press and you're going to want to head over there right now and buy it. Trust me on this one. In fact, here is the link so you can go order right now. It's such a beautiful story that pulls you in right from the very beginning, wraps you in loveliness, and keeps you there until the very end. I wish this story had been longer, but I have it on very good authority that there are going to be more stories in this series and I'm doing a happy dance right now just thinking about it.

She has stopped by to share with us, a letter to her brother, an excerpt and some pretty amazing prizes:

An Open Letter to My Brother, on This, My Release Day!

Dearest Andy,

How are you? I hope well. (This is for show, I speak to you almost every day and so I know how you are...nerdlinger. Also, you smell vaguely of farts. I love you.)

Today is my release day! Sweet Giordan, Please Remember is available for download. I already bullied you into pre-ordering it, so I’m just letting you know you can go and download it now. And read it. And call me. And talk with me about it. If you want, no pressure! (Pressure.)

I wish that was all this letter was about. Love, farts, and my release. Unfortunately, it is not.

Andy, there’s been this problem, this issue, this grumble, hanging between us for almost twenty-eight years and I think it’s time that you and I settle it. I’ve run to the refuge of Cate Ashwood’s blog to address this. Why?

Because she may very well be the only one who can stop your reign of terror.

Today this ends, Andrew.

Today you admit…you are not the only redhead.

I get it, I do! Your hair is beautiful. It glows so brightly red that one could light a candle off the flame-hue. I have never seen a red so beautiful.

But the tyranny has to stop, Andrew! You can’t go around declaring other people’s reds LESS red because your red is so magnificent! Cate Ashwood is proof positive other redheads exist. And this includes me, sir. I. AM. A. REDHEAD. Admit it, Andrew! I beg of you, before our relationship is torn apart by jealousy and lies. Is it as beautiful as yours? No! Have I been envious since I was a child? Yes! Am I blonde? NO sir, I am not!

And all I ask is that you admit that you can be the King of the Gingers, while still allowing the rest of us our brief moment in the sun.

Please.

I beg of you.

Love always,

Your sister

P.S. Download my book, dork!

(Thank you, Cate, for hosting me as my brother and I publicly tackle our darkest issues!)

Blurb

Sweet Giordan, Please Remember by Raine O'Tierney

Giordan Stone is lucky, all things considered. Sure, he spent five years in a coma only to wake with a right leg that’s practically useless and no memories other than his name. But now he’s under the care of sassy southern surrogate mother, Chloe Devereaux, spending his days painting and healing. Giordan wants for nothing at all… until he looks out the window one morning and sees Chloe's gorgeous son, Shane, standing there. Something very familiar stirs in Giordan.

When he sketches, Giordan is able to go into an “art trance” where pieces of disjointed memory come back to him without time or place. More and more of these flashes are of Shane Devereaux and the intense, intimate experiences they shared together. Even though Shane keeps his distance now, Giordan is convinced his flashes are real. But he doesn’t have the whole story. Giordan is determined to fill in his memory blanks and convince Shane his feelings are genuine.

Excerpt

Outside, the light of the morning was a gentle white. He was ready to go with Chloe to the orchard and paint anything and everything. Maybe she’d take him all the way down to the end of the lane so he could sit near the creek that separated the Devereaux’s property from county land.

Giordan was daydreaming about smearing blues across fresh canvas when something down below caught his eye. He looked closer.

His cane slipped through loose fingers, but he didn’t hear it clatter to the wood floor. He didn’t hear anything. Suddenly, his whole attention was intensely focused on a man standing down on the walk. He was talking seriously with Chloe’s husband, Mr. Devereaux.

Giordan couldn’t have torn his eyes away if they’d been burning, because something about the man he saw there was familiar and that familiarity strained against the mental veil. A hot feeling spread over him, and he flushed, at once both embarrassed and curious. He wanted to throw open the window and call out to this stranger, but of course, he didn’t know his name. What in the world was happening to him? Did he know the man standing below?

Giordan opened his mouth and raised his fists to the pane to call attention to himself when Chloe caught his arm and placed the cane back into his hand.

He’d never seen the look on her face before, and it startled him into obedient silence. She placed a finger to her lips and motioned him back to his bedroom. Giordan snuck one final look at the man standing outside before Chloe hurried him on, faster than his aching side wanted to go. That deep, familiar feeling lingered inside him, and Giordan felt achingly disappointed at his missed opportunity.

“Maman, who is that?” Giordan asked once she’d shut his door.

Her look softened and she placed a gentle hand against his cheek. “That’s my son, Shane.”

“Shane,” Giordan repeated. He was hoping once he had a name to go along with the handsome face that memories would flood in and everything would become clear. “But I know him, right?” he begged, certain she would confirm it. Seeing Shane’s face was like the trances Giordan went into when he drew: too familiar not to be real.

Chloe took one long, slow breath and replied, “Ah, not anymore, honey. It’s been a long time.”

“Well, then I’d like to meet him. I-I should reintroduce myself!”

“Giordan, I….” Chloe’s hesitation, much like the expression she’d had on her face, quieted him. She didn’t want them to meet. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

Buy links

DSP: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/index.php?cPath=55_1024

Bio

Raine O’Tierney is an always-writing, boundlessly enthusiastic, exclamation point addict! (!!!) She is known for declaring every day “the best day EVER!” and every thing her “all-time FAVORITE!” Despite this (obnoxious?) exuberance, she still somehow manages to have a wonderfully encouraging husband and writing partner, Siôn, and an amazing group of friends and colleagues who continue to support (read: put up with) her. Raine spends her days working as a library lady, fighting the good fight for intellectual freedom.

Website and social media links

Website: http://raineotierney.com/

E-mail: Raineotierney@gmail.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RaineOTierneyAuthor

The Hat Party (LGBT Author Interviews) http://raineotierneyhatparty.blogspot.com/

Twitter: @RaineOTierney

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/RaineOTierney

Blog Tour and Prizes!

Sweet Giordan, Please Remember Blog Tour

March 17th--March 29th

Prizes:

*** Set of Sweet Giordan, Please Remember and Under the Table and Into His Heart ebooks

*** I Believe in the Sweetness Notebook

*** I Believe in the Sweetness Tote

*** 2x I Believe in the Sweetness Bumper Stickers

*** 2x Sweetness! Bumper Stickers

Please visit Home of the Sweetness to enter:

http://raineotierney.blogspot.com/2014/03/sweet-giordan-please-remember-blog-tour.html

Holding on to Hope Blog Tour

Sid Love is here today for an interview! His new novella, Holding on to Hope hit the shelves on February 14th. I've had the pleasure of reading it, and I have to tell you, it's a fantastic debut novella! The world building is perfect, and you can't help but love the secondary characters as much as Brad and Ronan. A little birdy told me that there is going to be more books featuring these characters and I can't wait to read them.

Here's the official Blurb:

Bradley Parker has waited twenty years for Mr. Right, and on Valentine’s Day, he finally finds him. It’s love at first sight, and Brad even loses his virginity to the man of his dreams. But when he wakes up the next morning unable to remember anything—even what the man looked like—his best friend, Leslie, is convinced he imagined the whole thing. Brad knows he didn’t make up the best night of his life, but he has no idea of the danger he’s putting himself in as he struggles to recall the details of his perfect man. His search may lead him to parts of New York City he never dreamed existed and a war being waged in the shadows.

You can buy Holding on to Hope at Dreamspinner Press, Amazon and All Romance Ebooks

And without further ado, here is the interview!

Congratulations on your first release! Can you tell us a little bit about the story and how you came up with the idea?

This story is about Brad’s search for his one true love who he meets on the beautiful day of Valentine’s and loses him as quickly. He has no memory of where this guy is or what he looks like. His love and his hopes are the motivation that keeps him believing that he’d find his man no matter what!

This story came to me when I was brainstorming over plots for an anthology challenge on GayAuthors site where all kinds of free fictions are posted. The theme was a Night to Remember and this was the second idea that popped up in my head. I loved it, so I continued with it. J

This is your first book, but you are very well known in the m/m community. What made you make the transition from reviewer to writer?

I am not THAT well-known lol… I guess we have a decent number of blog followers for which I am humbled! It’s a team effort really what we have achieved so far J

Anywho, to answer your question, I have always been a writer. My transition was from a writer to a reviewer an year ago and not the other way round J But I wasn’t published author back then. It was a passion I followed dedicatedly. I never stopped writing even after I got into blogging about the books in M/M genre.

How did you celebrate when you received the email letting you know you were going to be published?

Ha! It was like 1 AM here in India when I received that email from Elizabeth and I literally screamed in joy in the middle of the night! I bet that must have woken up our neighbors, but I didn’t care lol I was so excited, I could hardly sleep that night.

What made you drew you to paranormal romance for your first book? Will you stick to this subgenre or are there other subgenres you want to explore for your next projects?

Holding on to Hope was my first attempt at writing Paranormal actually. I am the kind of author who loves to try his hand in every genre. So no, I won’t be limited one sub-genre at all. You will see a lot of Contemporary, Mystery, Romance books from me while I will also make an attempt in writing Sci-fi, YA and some more of Paranormal, Fantasy and Urban Fantasy ;)

When you are creating characters, are they based on people you know, or are they completely fictional?

I have met some very interesting people in my life – both online and offline- whose personalities actually intrigued me. So my characters aren’t completely fictional, I have given them a touch of every interesting personality I have met to give them a refreshing feel. Also, my characters take a lot from me too. My main character in Holding on to Hope has some traits that are inspired from me.

Are there any parts of this story that are particularly special to you or parts that you wrote from personal experience?

What’s more special than a guy finding his true love on the Valentine’s Day? I personally believe in the power of love and hope for finding Mr. Right J

What made you choose to publish with Dreamspinner Press and what have you learned from publishing your first story?

Dreamspinner Press has a reputation among the writers and the readers. For a lot of them, DSP books are an auto-buy (and that includes me!) because they promise quality. I knew that they’d only make the best out of my book and present it to the whole world. And I was proved right. I have had a great experience with the DSP staff.

What is next for you?

Well, I am aiming to finish the second book I have started in the series. And I am also simultaneously working on a novel-length story. So you will be sure to see a few books coming out soon under my name.

Can you share a little bit of your story with us?

Here’s an excerpt to the story that gives you a good enough glimpse of my characters ;)

“Okay, remember how I said it is huge?” Brad finally spoke, and Leslie nodded her head to let him know she was all ears. “Well, it is. Last night, something happened, something unimaginable… beyond any of my wildest dreams. I never thought….”

“Brad.” Leslie yawned. “To the point, please. I don’t have all day.”

“Okay, all right! What happened is….” He paused, plastering a big grin on his face. She tried very hard not to roll her eyes, letting him tell her at his own pace. “Last night, my dear, I finally got laid!”

When he broke the news to her, Leslie’s subsequent yawn was cut short by the initial shock she went through. Her body jerked forward, now fully awakened. There wasn’t any amount of caffeine that would have made her feel as lively as she felt at that moment.

This was definitely huge, and not just for Brad. Over the years, Leslie had constantly tried and consequently failed in hooking him up with several guys. Bradley Joseph Parker had the arrogance of a drag queen, she thought. He was too picky when it came to dating and relationships; never wishing to settle for anything less. He dreamt of a guy whose mere presence would take his breath away, who would be so handsome that every girl and every gay guy in the world would yearn to have him in their lives. “Such a guy would only belong to me, holding my hand in a roomful of envious people,” he would say with a smirk. “I would look around and say to them ‘Suck it up, bitches! He is mine!’”

Brad had wasted years with these stupid fantasies, and he had remained a virgin. So Leslie never thought the day would come when Brad’s whining would ever end.

But it had. And Leslie thought she would faint, even with the adrenaline rushing through her veins.

“Wha—?” She became aware of the fact that she had left her mouth hanging open for too long and shut it immediately. A smile crept across her lips, getting bigger by the second, and it turned into a cheek-hurting grin. “Oh my God! Shut up. Seriously?” She quickly sat up, hopping on the bed to cross her legs.

“Very seriously, Les.” Brad’s cute face beamed with wonder and excitement. Leslie couldn’t blame him. She remembered the day she had had sex for the first time, and even though it was a while back, she couldn’t forget the bliss she’d felt after finally losing her virginity or the hunger she felt for getting some more. Leslie was ready to bet that Brad was experiencing similar whirls of emotions in him.

“Last night, on Valentine’s Day…?” she asked.

Brad gave a nod. “On Valentine’s Day.”

“That’s so funny.” Leslie laughed out loud. Even though Valentine’s Day never meant anything to her, something this huge happening to her best friend did force her to consider it a special day. “Okay, you have to tell me everything, dude! Don’t leave out a single detail. I don’t care if it’s too much information. I just have to know. How long has this been going on between you two?”

Brad laughed. “Not too long. I just met him yesterday.”

“And you slept with him already?” Leslie’s mind was drawing up the picture of the perfect guy in her imagination, a guy who had managed to entice someone like Brad in such a short time. She was sure he would be down-to-earth, with an impeccably charming personality. “Way to go! I won’t deny it; I like the spontaneous Brad. Who is this guy, by the way? Do I know him?”

“No, you don’t.” His smile wavered a bit.

“Well, what’s his name?”

Leslie watched him hesitate for a moment. “I… don’t know.”

It took her by surprise.

“I think my devilish side just had a mind-blowing orgasm. You not only have sex with a guy for the first time, but you are also telling me it was simply a one-night stand?” She put her hand over her heart and mockingly said, “Mama Les is so proud of her boy!”

“But Les,” he knitted his eyebrows together as he stood up and came over to sit by her side. He took hold of Leslie’s hand, and she felt his grip tightening when he said, “It wasn’t a one-night stand. Definitely not, uh-uh.” He shook his head, and she immediately wondered if he was trying to convince her or himself. “It was special to me, and I could tell it was special for him too. Why else would he go to extremes to make that night an unforgettable memory? He lit up hundreds of scented candles in the room for me, and there were rose petals all over the bed where we did it.” Leslie didn’t miss the blush forming on his face again as he spoke. “There was champagne, sweet music, and he was a perfect gentleman. He kept asking me if I was sure about this.”

“WOW! Sounds utterly cheesy to me….” Leslie said, although she was quite impressed by all of it and maybe a bit jealous too.

Brad let go of her hand and sighed. “It was damn romantic.”

Leslie moved her gaze around the dorm room, scrutinizing it. “I am guessing it wasn’t here you did it then?” She inquired, turning to face him and watched him slowly crossing his legs like she had.

“No, he took me to his place.” Brad had his mouth open to probably add something more, but he stopped abruptly, scrunched his nose up, and glanced at her with some doubt. “I think it was his place… I don’t know. Where else would he take me?”

Leslie noticed uncertainty, even when he shrugged. What Brad was saying didn’t make any sense to her. “The champagne! Did you have too much of it?”

He frowned. “God, no! Why would I want to give him the impression I’m an idiotic drunkard on our first meeting?”

Of course she didn’t believe him. “Right, says the one who’d put Britney Spears to shame with his underage drinking. Seriously, dude, I’ve had to pick you up in a drunken state from God knows how many parties by now. So don’t shit me by saying you didn’t have any amount of alcohol in you last night.”

Brad reddened and carefully said, “I may have had a little bit of alcohol.”

Typical. Leslie rolled her eyes. “Weren’t you at Ian’s party last night?” She tried to keep her face straight as she asked. The party he had gone to was for all the single men and ladies from their college. Leslie knew exactly how that turned out every year by the end of the night.

He gave a nod in reply.

“Well, maybe you did it at his place?”

“No, it can’t be because we were partying at a nightclub last night.”

“Since when do nightclubs allow in a bunch of twenty year-olds?” she asked, certain they must have been stopped at the door for IDs. She couldn’t say about the others, but Brad’s cute baby face did give away his age.

“They don’t, but Ian somehow knew a few guys working at this nightclub that we went to, so we were able to sneak in.” He grinned.

Leslie suddenly wished she could have joined them. “Lucky you!” Now she couldn’t wait for May to arrive; that was when she turned twenty-one. She had been planning it in her mind forever. “So you met this mysterious guy in that club?”

“Yes, I think so.” Brad chewed on his lower lip.

“Well, what did he say to you? What did he look like?”

Brad turned sorrowful. “If I only knew….” He hung his head down and began to pull on his hair. “Fuck, Les!” He yelled, then looked up, scowling at her. “I can’t seem to remember any of it. The only thing that has managed to stay stuck in my memory is the mind-blowing sex that I had with him. I even remember all the positions we did it in, and God, that guy has the stamina of a wild lion, I tell you.”

Author Bio: 
Sid Love grew up in one of busiest cities in the world, Mumbai, listening to the excerpts of Indian epics from his father every night. While it served as an inspiration back in time, he has always had an ambitious mind. In 2007, when he had just turned sixteen, he decided that he would make his lifelong dream come true—to become a well-known, respected author some day.
Ask him and he would refuse to accept that he is obsessed with books. Or movies. Or TV shows. Addicted may even be the right word. He is a die-hard fan of Jane Austen’s romance novels and loves to reread them time and again.

You can find him on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/sid.love.16?ref=tn_tnmn or tweet him anytime: https://twitter.com/FatefulMercy, or simply e-mail him at sidlovethewriter@live.in.

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for your chance to win one of 5 copies of Holding on to Hope, or a $25 gift certificate to Amazon!
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Someone to Keep Me Blog Tour

I am so very pleased that the first post of the new year is going to be for a book (and a writing team) who are very special to me.

Someone to Keep Me is one of my all-time favourites. I had the pleasure of reading this one before it hit the shelves and I fell in love with Scott and Ben right away. There is something so innocent and naïve about Scott, and Ben is so stoic. Both men are flawed, but the flaws are what make them so perfect for one another and so endearing to readers. They draw strength from one another, albeit in very different ways. Both men will burrow their way into your heart and you won’t want them out.

Parker and KC write so seamlessly together. They are a wonderful team and they have created a wonderful book that I will be rereading over and over again.

And the cover. Let me just say, the cover! So beautiful and it fits the story perfectly.

In addition to the fantastic blog post they've got for us today, they're also running a giveaway. Actually, I don't know if it can just be called a giveaway. There should be a bigger, more fantastic name for what KC and Parker are doing. They are giving away a Kindle Fire loaded with over 100 books to one lucky winner. 

You can enter to win this amazing prize here: Rafflecopter giveaway

BLURB:
Eighteen-year-old Scott Keating knows a whole world exists beyond his parents’ strict control, but until he gains access to the World Wide Web, he really has no idea what’s out there. In a chat room, Scott meets “JeffUK.” Jeff loves and understands him, and when he offers to bring Scott to the UK, Scott seizes his chance to escape his humdrum life and see the world. But when his plane touches down and Jeff isn’t there, panic sets in.
Collars & Cuffs favorite barman and Dom-in-training, Ben Winters, drops his sister off at the airport and finds a lost, anxious Scott. Hearing Scott’s story sets off alarm bells, along with his protective instincts. Taking pity on the naïve boy, Ben offers him a place to crash and invites him to Collars & Cuffs, hoping his bosses will know how to help. Scott dreams of belonging to someone, heart and soul. Ben longs for a sub of his own. And neither man sees what’s right under his nose.

Buy Someone To Keep Me Here

And now, Parker and KC have written something very special for you to give you a little taste of the men from Someone to Keep Me!

Scott

He’d been drinking. Again. The shouting began earlier than normal, which meant he’d stopped off on the way home for a few beers with his friends. It also meant that he’d read the report from my teacher. Being homeschooled wasn’t a picnic. Having one person who knew everything about what I learned or, in this case, was disinterested in, really sucked.

“Scott!” I winced at the tone of the voice because I knew what was going to come next. Heavy footsteps on the stairs ceased outside my door. It flew open, hitting hard against the wall, the divot in wood a little deeper each time.

“What the hell is this?” he shouted, flapping a paper in front of me. Before I could answer he stepped closer. It hadn’t been beer tonight. He’d been hitting the hard stuff. Great.

“We’re paying damn good money for you to get an educashun,” he slurred. “This kind of work is un-unacceptable. An architect needs to know this shtuff.”

And there it was. I wasn’t asked what I wanted. I was told. He and my mother had been telling me since I could remember what I was going to be doing with my life, and I accepted it.

“Your mother and I are having dinner,” he snapped. “You’re going to be spending the night studying.” He grabbed the Nook off my desk and threw it at me, the corner catching on my arm. I picked it up, opened it, and began reading one of the books he’d given me on buildings in the US. He grunted and slammed the door closed behind him. I could feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. The warmth on my face told me I wasn’t succeeding.

Outside my window I could hear the people from the coffee shop. I looked out and saw them sitting close together, having a good time. I wished I could be there with them. I wanted nothing more than for someone to look at me the way some of those people stared at one another. Like they were the only thing in the world at that moment. I heaved a weighty sigh and lay back down on the bed. I fiddled with some of the settings on the e-reader when I noticed a setting for internet connectivity. I switched it on and found that I had bars from the coffee shop! My reading abandoned, I started playing around online. I wished I could lock my door, but my parents saw no reason I should need privacy. Still, the Nook made it easy to switch to something else if necessary.

I spent every spare moment of the next several weeks looking for a life online. I searched for gay youth and found a website called Top and Bottom Boys that had a chat room. It was a lively place with kids from all over the world talking about themselves. It wasn’t really sexy chat, though discussions about things like condom use did get heated at times. Anything sex related was usually taken to a private room. I’d had invitations, but never accepted. Still, I longed to talk about sex with someone. My parents kept me locked up most days. I wasn’t allowed to go out, not that I had anywhere to go. But I made some acquaintances in the chat room and they were a good sounding board for me. I promised myself that one day, I’d accept when someone asked me to chat. Three days later, a message popped up.

JeffUK: Hi.

HomeboyS: Hello.

JeffUK: I like your name. What does it mean?

HomeboyS: Nothing really. I’m at home, I’m a boy, and my name is Scott.

I rolled my eyes. Thinking of it that way made me roll my eyes.

JeffUK: Great. My name is Jeff and I live in Manchester, England. You feel up for a chat?

I took a deep breath and slowly typed my reply.

HomeboyS: Yeah. I think I’d like that.

Ben

I wiped down the top of the bar again. I hated the weekends. Yeah, I made good tips, but Saturday nights I saw all of the usual people stroll through the door. Leo and Alex, Miles and Pietro. Even Thomas, whose sub Peter wouldn’t come to the club, was constantly on the phone with his boy. I wanted that. A sub of my own. Oh, I didn’t begrudge Thomas his happiness with Peter. Far from it. Though it did put a crimp in my training. Thomas had offered to find me someone else to train with, but it felt awkward to me.

My phone rang, pulling me from my reveries. I smiled when I saw Annie’s name pop up on the display.

“Annie! Nice to hear from you. I haven’t seen you all week.”

She sniffled and I could hear her gasping.

“Annie? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I-I was made redundant today,” she sobbed.

It wasn’t unexpected. Annie’s company had been having money problems, just like most other places around the world. Still, she brought in some money to the household we shared and this was definitely going to hurt.

“It’s okay, we’ll figure something out.”

I ran some mental calculations and figured I had enough money to support us both for three, maybe four months, if I really tightened things up. Maybe I could pick up a few extra shifts. Felix seemed to be in another world lately, so I might be able to work a few more days.

“I’m sorry, Benjy,” she whispered.

She hadn’t called me that in years. She sounded so sad and defeated. I wanted to hug her and let her know that we’d be okay. I wasn’t expecting the next words, though.

“Pablo asked me to go with him back to Spain. He’s going back home next month. Their job is almost finished here and the next one will be near where he lives. Would you hate me if I said yes?”

I ran my thumb and forefinger over the bridge of my nose. It would be a relief that she had somewhere to go. Pablo worshipped the ground she walked on and I’d never seen her happier. Still, I’d miss her.

“Of course I wouldn’t hate you. If that’s what you want to do, you need to go for it.”

“But the money—“

“Isn’t your concern. I’ll find a way to make it work. How long will you be gone?”

She was quiet for a moment. “A month, maybe.”

I forced a smile so she wouldn’t hear the desperation in my voice. “I’m happy for you, hon. Pablo is a great guy.”

“But what about—“

“Annie,” I said sternly, “stop worrying.” I looked at the clock. “My shift is almost done. I’ll grab something for dinner on the way home. What do you feel like?”

“I’ll make us something. Hurry home.”

With that she disconnected. I looked at the happy couples watching the men on stage and I felt my heart break a small bit. Even though I very much wanted what they had, I realized it was something I was never going to get.

I sighed and went back to wiping the top of the bar till it shone. Maybe one day.

Bios:

Born and raised in the north-west of England, K.C.Wells always loved writing. Words were important. Full stop. However, when childhood gave way to adulthood, the writing ceased, as life got in the way.
K.C. discovered erotic fiction in 2009, where the purchase of a ménage storyline led to the startling discovery that reading about men in love was damn hot. In 2012, arriving at a really low point in life led to the desperate need to do something creative. An even bigger discovery waited in the wings – writing about men in love was even hotter...
K.C. now writes full-time and is loving every minute of her new career.
The laptop still has no idea of what hit it... it only knows that it wants a rest, please. And it now has to get used to the idea that where K.C goes, it goes.
K.C. can be reached via email (k.c.wells@btinternet.com), on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/KCWellsWorld) or through comments at the K.C.Wells website (www.kcwellsworld.com ) K.C. loves to hear from readers.

PARKER WILLIAMS began to write as a teen, but never showed his work to anyone. As he grew older, he drifted away from writing, but his love of the written word moved him to reading. A chance encounter with an author changed the course of his life as she encouraged him to never give up on a dream. With the help of some amazing friends, he rediscovered the joy of writing, thanks to a community of writers who have become his family.
Parker firmly believes in love, but is also of the opinion that anything worth having requires work and sacrifice (plus a little hurt and angst, too). The course of love is never a smooth one, and Happily Ever After always has a price tag.
Website: http://www.parkerwilliamsauthor.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/ParkerWAuthor
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/parker.williams.75641 

E-mail: parker@parkerwilliamsauthor.com




Excerpt

I was trying to make shopping a fun experience, but Scott wasn’t making it easy. I figured he’d had a heavy morning emotionally, and I thought taking him around Debenhams department store would provide him with a little light relief. I kept holding up these really loud shirts and telling him he’d look good in them. His reaction confused the hell out of me. It was almost as if the boy didn’t know how to have fun. And when I held up some really skimpy underwear, I thought he was going to faint from embarrassment. I kept looking at the clothes he’d picked out. Two pairs of jeans, no problem there, but the shirts were bland, boring even. Scott was eighteen, for God’s sake. In desperation, I picked up a blue shirt I thought would really suit him. The color was a perfect match for his eyes. I held it out to him.
“Would you wear this for me?”
He gazed at me for a moment, and I thought he was going to refuse. Then he nodded shyly. Thank God. I put it in the basket along with his other choices, and we headed for the till. I handed over Leo’s letter of authorization confirming his phone call, and we were done. As we left the store, loaded up with bags, Scott asked for the receipts, to keep them safe to give to Leo.
I snickered. “You do know Leo won’t do anything with those receipts, don’t you?” I knew my boss better than he did.
Scott stopped dead in the middle of the pavement, his mouth open. “What?” I shrugged. He held out his bags. “I’m sorry, I can’t accept these.” God, he could be stubborn.
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, be like that. I’m sure the people at the launderette won’t mind seeing you standing there in your underwear washing your one suit.” I started walking again, laughing inwardly as he caught up to me in a hurry.
Scott tilted his head. “Launderette?”
I searched for the American equivalent. “Laundromat.” A horrified expression crept over his face. Yeah, I’d thought that would make him stop and think. “Can you afford to be proud right now?” His face fell, and I instantly regretted my words. The boy had to see things clearly, though.
Scott looked at his bags of clothing, his expression grudging, to say the least. “Okay, but I still want the receipts.” Out came that chin again. The lad had some backbone to him.
This time I stopped. “You’re going to be stubborn about this, aren’t you?”
The color rose in his cheeks. “It’s not being stubborn, it’s being responsible.” His lips narrowed. “I don’t need someone to take care of me.”
“Fine. Whatever,” I muttered and started walking again. I glanced at the boy surreptitiously as we went along. Regardless of what came out of his mouth, everything about Scott said something entirely different. Alex was right: the lad needed a keeper. I turned off Piccadilly onto London Road, back to the hotel where I’d left the car.
“Where are we going?” Scott looked at me in confusion as he caught sight of the hotel.
“We’re going to my place. I have a flat.”
An eager expression crossed his face. “Do you need help with that?”
I frowned. “Help with what?”
“Your flat. Have you got a jack?”
I struggled for a moment to understand. Then it dawned on me. I laughed. “Okay, for future reference? A flat is an apartment.” I shook my head, still chuckling. “How do you expect to write if you don’t even know English?” His cheeks flamed.

Lex Chase - Pawn Takes Rook Blog Hop

Today I am very excited to announce that Lex Chase, a fellow author and friend, is here to talk a little but about her new novella, Pawn Takes Rook. I have had the pleasure of reading it, and let me tell you, brilliant doesn't begin to describe it. This book has it all: action, adventure, humour, romance and even a little bit of angstiness thrown in for good measure!

Hello everyone! I’m Lex Chase and it is my honor to be at Cate Ashwood’s blog today. So, thank you Cate. I’m the author of Pawn Takes Rook, the first installment in the Checkmate series. As a superhero romantic comedy, it harkens back to the days of When Harry Met Sally, only with two dudes. One of those two, our protagonist Hogarth Dawson struggles to find his place in the world and keep his monsters of insecurities away with a witty joke. And that’s what I’m here to talk about today. That monster in our minds called Insecurity.

Let me say, Hogarth’s insecurities are like mine only cranked to sixty. Because of him, I can deal with my own inadequacies and realize how I’m make huge fucking mountains out of the most absurd molehills. I think as a writer, we battle our insecurities every day. Sometimes we win, sometimes we lose, but we keep rising to the challenge to make it in this world of a person that gets paid to make stuff up. How awesome is that? Getting paid to make stuff up. Marinate on that.

But here’s the problem, we’re constant worriers that the stuff we make up will be well received, that if we submit something to the publisher will they offer a contract (and by proxy validate our existence.) We worry about promotion, we worry about getting sales, we worry about getting fans, we worry about looking foolish, and we worry about failing.

I look foolish all the time, so with that out of the way that’s one less problem I have. Did you see what I did there? I made a joke. It’s what I do to cover for my complete terror. Bury my own insecurities with humor and self-depreciation and everyone laughs both with me and at me. But aren’t we all like that? Aren’t we all a little uncomfortable or worried that our underwear is hanging out or there’s a booger peeking out our nostril? Fearing failure is like fearing your pants falling off mid-stride in a packed shopping mall during Black Friday. Meaning it’s bound to happen so don’t worry about it much because you’ll get your turn soon enough. 

Here’s a thought: If we knew we couldn’t fail, would we even try? 

That’s Hogarth’s predicament, after a string of perpetual failures and poor life decisions, (and we can admit taking in Rook was likely a poor decision too.) he decided to do something he decided to scheme his way into being somebody. His plan was guaranteed to fail, but with Rook at his side they both go down together and have a good time doing it. 

Hogarth is like the Chumbawumba song “I get knocked down, but I get up again!” He refuses to let any bastard grind him down. If he’s going to have a pity party, it’s going to be on his own terms. Not because Suzie Shumaker pushed him in the mud in the third grade and now he is terrified of all things brown and gets flashbacks when the UPS truck goes by.

I leave you with this: You may be struggling, confused, at a crossroads, petrified of taking the next step… But if you’re going to fail? Fail like a rockstar.

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Pawn Takes Rook: Blurb

The first time Hogarth Dawson sees superhero Memphis Rook, he comes to Hogarth’s rescue by cracking the heads of two thugs like eggs into a skillet. Hogarth is utterly smitten, but he soon discovers the superhero Power Alliance has ejected Rook for failing to protect a civilian.

Hogarth devises a plan that will reinstate Rook and might even earn Hogarth a place in Power Alliance roster. But what he expects to be a simple few missions rescuing kittens and helping little old ladies cross the street turns into a shocking reality of citywide chases, foiling robberies, and facing his ex. Then Hogarth discovers the beating Rook saved him from wasn’t a chance attack. It’s possible Hogarth is just a pawn in Rook’s game….

Where To Buy:

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=3643

Goodreads:

http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17404975-pawn-takes-rook

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Pawn Takes Rook: Excerpt

When I first saw Rook, he was cracking the skulls of two goons like eggs into a skillet. I sat there like a freaked out choir boy on my butt between the trash cans lining the alley behind Ted’s TV Tabernacle, gazing in awe and wonder. Rook had hands that could mold steel like Dollar General Play-Doh. He did just that by wadding up Random Thug Number One’s Louisville Slugger into a sadistic snowball and beaned the guy right in the ear. Getting snow in your ear has to be the most excruciating sensation in existence. I can’t imagine getting Kentucky’s finest steel shoved into your noggin.

I don’t remember if I screamed. I likely did. Totally did.

Random Thug Number Two went flying past me in an expert over-the-shoulder throw, his open mouth smacking wetly into the bricks. Broken teeth bounced over the sidewalk. Random Thug Number Three ducked behind the trash cans opposite me. He popped up once in a while, hidden behind the mound of bags and cans. His alligator eyes inched over the unfolding scene from the safe vantage point of the trash bag swamp.

Rook surveyed the alley, making sure he had gotten them all. He snorted a puff of steam with menacing satisfaction at seeing one guy out cold and another on the fast track for full dentures before sixty. Then he came to me. Now, when I say he was smoldering, that’s totally what he was doing. Smoke rose off his tattered trench coat in ethereal coils. Rook’s smoking frame could have been caused by the chill of the oncoming winter and the steam of sweat, but it definitely added to the sexy first impression.

His eyes, oh my Christ on a cracker…. They were not quite blue, not quite green, but like that girl on the National Geographic cover. Those haunting Afghan eyes.

“Are you okay?” Rook rumbled in a perfect antiheroic growl while reaching for my hand. His fingers, broad, callused, and strong, hung there long enough to cue the musical montage in my head. I couldn’t believe it. The one and only Memphis Rook had swaggered into my mugging, ready to bust heads. It was like he planned it, really. Or our universes collided in some awesome poetic way that I can’t think straight at the moment because holy crap, those hands are huge!

That’s when Random Thug Number Three opposite me decided to ruin the amazing moment, popping up like a spring-loaded Halloween skeleton and launched at Rook.

Rook turned in a smooth whoosh of muscle and fabric, and I shrieked as the knife skewered into his gut. He latched onto his killer’s knife hand in surprise.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God!” I screamed. I knew in that infinitesimally dark moment, I was going to die alongside the guy who fought in vain to save my life.

Confused, the thug glared at him, then to his captured wrist, and back again. “W-what are you?” he stammered as courage ran down his pants leg.

Rook released him. The thug held up the knife with the blade crumpled onto itself like a bullet impacting a Kevlar plate. The thug backpedaled, falling backward over a black plastic trash can after slipping on a greasy Five Guys burger wrapper. He screeched, twisting in an about face, and ran like a kid who had spilled orange juice on his dad’s vintage Playboys.

Then Rook turned those Afghan eyes on me, and the musical montage returned. The sleepy, sultry lyrics to “Dream Weaver” crooned in my head along with the accompanying halo of sparkles. His hand, those powerful, thick fingers, reached for mine….

And then he flat fuck fell over in my lap like a Buick dropped from low earth orbit. Steam rose from his body in the not so sexy eau de parfum of burned rubber and gasoline. He lay there, crushing my pancreas while out cold.

And that’s how Memphis Rook fucked up my life.

By coming into it.

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Bio:

Lex Chase is a journalist by day and a writer by night. Either way you slice it, she makes things up for a living. Her style of storytelling is action, adventure, and a dollop of steamy romance. She loves tales of men who kiss as much as they kick ass. She believes it’s never a party until something explodes in a magnificent fashion, be it a rolling fireball of a car or two guys screaming out their love for one another in the freezing rain.

Lex is a pop culture diva, an urbanite trapped in a country bumpkin’s body, and wouldn’t last five minutes without technology in the event of the apocalypse. She has learned that when all else fails, hug the cat.

She is a Damned Yankee hailing from the frozen backwoods of Maine residing in the ‘burbs of Northwest Florida where it could be 80F and she’d have a sweatshirt on because she’s freezing.

You can find her on those Facebook and Twitter things at:
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/LXChase
Twitter: http://twitter.com/Lex_Chase

And her blog at http://lexchase.com.