A Harper's Rock Legacy Series, Book 4
by JJ Ellis
by JJ Ellis
Showing posts with label LGBT novels. Show all posts
Showing posts with label LGBT novels. Show all posts
Monday, June 25, 2018
Tuesday, March 21, 2017
Meet Trevann Rogers and Read About Her LGBT "Living After Midnight" Series--Caution: Adult Content
About Trevann
Trevann writes urban fantasy and LGBT paranormal romances. Her
books include HOUSE OF THE RISING SON and its prequel novella, AFTER MIDNIGHT.
Trevann's stories incorporate an unquenchable addiction to music and her love
for vampires, Weres, incubi and rock stars. Like these elusive creatures,
Trevann learned long ago that sometimes being yourself means Living After
Midnight.
Prequel to House of the Rising Son
Living After Midnight Series
Improbable love. Impossible life. Immeasurable
danger.
Jewell’s stepfather thinks she’s worthless. She agrees. When she
looks in the mirror she sees an overweight, overemotional, overeating mess who
can’t keep her fangs to herself.
Ria hails from a family of old world vamps who'd be happy to share
their wealth with her, if only she’d fall in line. Fat chance, especially since
being in that line includes not being gay.
Being in love is easy for Ria and Jewell—the young vampires belong
together like vodka and tomato juice. Adding Cheyenne, a talented and sexy
incubus, to their union is the hot sauce in their Bloody Mary. The only
problem? Vampires and incubi are mortal enemies.
Despite the odds Ria, Jewell and Cheyenne find their way to
happiness. But Jewell is hiding a huge secret, one that defies the laws of
procreation: She’s going to have a baby.
While she tries to figure out how to break the unbelievable news
to her lovers, a horror from Jewell’s past slithers into her present, forcing
choices no one should have to make.
Will it be love or death? Happiness or safety? She has until dawn
to decide...and it's already After Midnight.
~~
Excerpt:
The choice between staying in on a Saturday night to clean and
going to see Cheyenne at his first real gig hadn’t been a complicated decision.
He was a world-class rocker who could play the guitar like a fiend and had a
voice that made you feel…everything. Or made you horny. And fuck if she didn’t
love him. Damn incubus.
She reached across him and caressed Jewell’s side. Jewell’s eyes
opened and she stared expressionless at the ceiling, hyper-alert to danger. It
always took a few moments after resurrecting for her to remember where she was
and who was with her, but since moving into their new home it seemed to take
even longer.
Ria sighed. She’d do anything if it would help Jewell feel safe
enough to die each dawn and awaken peacefully. “All is well, Babydoll. It’s
just me. Time to rise and twinkle with the stars.”
“Already?” Jewell scrunched her eyes and blinked as if trying to
focus them.
Cheyenne lay his head on the soft swell of Jewell’s belly. “Didn’t
we just go to bed?”
Ria kissed his back and licked a slow trail down his spine. “Hours
ago. Did we tucker out the poor little sex demon?”
“Not hardly, dead girl.”
She grabbed a fistful of his hair and turned him to face her.
“That’s undead girl, thank you.” She bit his lower lip and let it drag
between her teeth. “Show us what you’ve got left.”
~~
You can find After Midnight here on Amazon.
You can find Trevann online at:
Monday, March 7, 2016
Meet Janie Franz, LGBT Fantasy Author, for our #EggcerptExchange
For our ongoing #EggcerptExchange, I'm hosting Janie Franz, author of The Bowdancer Saga among other books. Janie comes
from a long line of Southern liars and storytellers. She told other people’s stories as a freelance
journalist for many years. With Texas wedding DJ, Bill Cox, she co-wrote The
Ultimate Wedding Ceremony Book and The Ultimate Wedding Reception Book,
and then self-published a writing manual, Freelance Writing: It’s a
Business, Stupid! She also published
an online music publication, was an agent/publicist for a groove/funk band, a
radio announcer, and a yoga/relaxation instructor.
Currently, she is
writing her twelfth novel and a self-help book, Starting Over: Becoming a Woman of Power.
THE WAYFARER'S ROAD is Book 2 of The Bowdancer Saga.
The Bowdancer Saga continues in The Wayfarer’s Road.
Healer Jan-nell, now a woman traveling alone with her precocious young daughter
on the Wayfarer’s Road, meets a handsome wandering bard. But he is carrying his
own secrets along with the priceless chance at hope for her and her child to
belong.
Eggcerpt
She clicked her tongue at him. “Did not your
mother teach you manners?”
“Obviously, yours did not,” he answered.
The woman stepped back, freeing the sweating
man. “My mother had little to do with my education.”
With the staff no longer the focus of his
attention, Razlo’s eyes now were level with those of the curly-headed child
that clung tightly to the woman. But those eyes were not the eyes of a fearful
waif. They were knowing, aware, and held him in contempt. “Have a care raising
that one,” the innkeeper mumbled.
The woman switched her staff to her left
hand and caressed the little girl’s dark curls, causing the child to look up.
The woman smiled down at her, then raised her green eyes to the innkeeper
again. “A blanket for the straw, sir. Mira-nell will need protection from the
damp.”
Razlo grunted as he struggled to stand,
hauling the tray of pie scraps from the floor. Waddling into the kitchen, he
muttered, “Unnatural” and “Bold, brazen whore.”
The woman picked up the cloak she had
dropped in her encounter with Razlo and shook it into folds, drawing it again
about her shoulders. The child pushed away from her slightly and protested.
“You promised a bed this time.”
The woman stroked the child’s serious face.
“It could not be helped. These civilized folk are more barbaric than the
mountain farmers.”
“But it is not fair. To them, women are
just―”
“I know,” the woman spoke sharply, and then
softened her tone. “It could not be helped.”
“You could have made them change.”
The woman laughed. “Now how could I have
done that, wee one? Do you expect me to battle the entire countryside? It is
their custom. We do not live here. We are only staying the night.”
“You have not only courage, but good sense,”
a man’s voice said at her ear. She turned her head to find a wiry man beside
her, dressed in a full-sleeved muslin shirt, a green homespun tunic, matching
leggings, and knee-length laced suede boots. An elaborately embroidered strap
crossed his chest. From it hung a lute; its rich wood glowed like warm honey.
“And you, friend, must be well-loved here to
antagonize the citizenry.”
The man’s thin mustache angled upward in
twin arcs as he smiled impishly. “Songsmiths are tolerated. I am considered an
addled idler.”
The woman laughed again. “We are well met,
friend. I am called Jan-nell. Would that I were not so travel-weary, I would
trade a verse or two with you. Perhaps tomorrow.”
Cocking his head to one side and causing his
brown, wavy hair to cascade over his shoulder, the singer glanced over her
petite body. “Perhaps later,” he suggested with a raised eyebrow.
“Perhaps tomorrow,” she said firmly, but
with a wry smile. “There is a ban on whores in this hostelry, have you not
heard?”
He laughed. “I am known as Khrin.”
Razlo panted up to them with one holey
blanket and a lantern. He frowned at Khrin, but said to Jan-nell, “This way,
woman.”
Drawing her cloak about Mira-nell once more,
she followed the innkeeper out into the rain toward a small shelter in back of
the inn. It hardly looked big enough to house a couple of milk cows much less travelers’
horses if the inn was full.
Character
Interview with Khrin
Job? I am a
wandering bard, though my family would rather I settle down and build a house
in my village next to theirs.
Level of schooling or self-taught? The road is my teacher. I learn songs
everywhere and meet some of the most interesting people, especially that
cloaked little firebrand with her quick-witted child.
Favorite food? I am quite fond of my mother’s bread. But I
am beginning to enjoy found food along the Wayfarer’s Road. If only I had the
hand to herb fish as this woman I found at the Wild Boar does.
Significant other? Do you mean a wife? Ho-ho. Not I. I am
enjoying the wanderer’s life. My mother, though, thinks I have been alone far
too long. Tis true many of my younger brothers and sisters are already wed with
hearths crowed with young faces. But for me there is no one. Though this sweet
child, Mira-nell, whose tongue and mind are far older than her wee bones, could
cause me to hang up my traveling boots. And her mother has such alluring green
eyes, even though she does not know how to use those beautiful gifts to charm
me or any man.
Wealthy, poor, or somewhere in between? I am rich in song and wit but often my
purse is light.
Purchase THE WAYFARER'S ROAD
Contact Janie
Thursday, September 18, 2014
Erotic Author Anna Bayes is my Guest! -- CAUTION: Adult Content
Anna
writes contemporary, paranormal, BDSM and LGBT erotic romances. She is herself
a bisexual submissive, and finds writing the perfect outlet for her wild ideas.
In real life, Anna is an introverted bookworm, looks sweet and kind of innocent, but don't let her brown eyes fool you.
In real life, Anna is an introverted bookworm, looks sweet and kind of innocent, but don't let her brown eyes fool you.
Take a peek at her newest release, contemporary M/F erotic romance THROUGH HIS LENS.
Newly
divorced and rediscovering her place in the world, Fiona found a strange solace
in taking photos of herself. Next step: she hired a professional photographer
to take her portraits. Modelling for him felt empowering. Would this be only a
one-time thing or would she have the courage to pursue a relationship with
Nathan, the photographer whose green eyes captivate and disarm her?
Note: Explicit sex scenes. Adult material intended for readers aged 18+.
Note: Explicit sex scenes. Adult material intended for readers aged 18+.
Excerpt:
I wake up feeling refreshed.
Orange light streaming in through
the curtains shows that evening is soon approaching. I walk to the bathroom for
a shower.
After stripping myself bare, I
scrutinize myself in the full-length mirror.
Quite simply put, I still have a
hot body. My curves are smooth and pleasing to the eye. Perhaps I am a bit pale
from working indoors all the time, but that can easily change. Besides, there
is a frailty to the paleness of my skin that I like. A hint of sadness lingers
on my face, but generally, my features are attractive. Yes, I decide: I can be
considered beautiful.
I take my cell phone and mindlessly
begin taking photographs of myself: close-ups of my breasts, full-body shots,
slanted angles of my bottom arching up, several near-identical snaps of the
small of my back, my legs as I stand tip-toed, the bend of my arms, and a few
of my neck as I elongate it.
The thrill of seeing my naked body
stacking up in my phone’s photo album is delightful. I am like a teenager first
experimenting with her exhibitionist tendency.
That is when I remember Nathan, my
wedding photographer who I have heard also does portraits occasionally. He had
sent me emails about one or two of his exhibitions before. I skip over to turn
on my laptop, butt-naked, and type his name on the Internet to find his
website, with a large gallery of his recent works.
I like what I see. His photographs
are professional and far more atmospheric than the clear, almost childish ones
that I have just taken.
Several of his albums are boudoir
photos: some are nude photos of women reclining in various poses on a bed,
others are of women dressed up in lingerie and corsets that must have taken
hours to bind oneself into. But whatever the respective styles are, I admire
all of Nathan’s work.
Too bad he does not have any
exhibitions going on at the moment, or I would love to go see his work
displayed in real life, while he stands nearby, looking handsome and confident,
thanking people for their compliments.
Did I just describe him as handsome
and confident?
I grin.
First day of my divorce, and I am
already developing a crush on another man. Maybe I am not as innocent as I have
imagined, after all.
I stare at his phone number on the
browser for ten seconds.
I shake my head.
My eyes continue to gawk at the
same spot.
Reluctantly, my feet carry me to
the kitchen, boiling water and making myself a large mug of decaf tea, still
butt-naked.
Armed with my comfort drink, I
return to my computer screen, my full attention fixed on Nathan’s number.
By the time the tea is finished,
his number is imprinted in my memory.
I close the browser window.
My butt refuses to move.
I laugh at my juvenile behavior. I
type the number onto my phone and call Nathan.
“Hello, Nathan Gould’s studio.”
“Hi, my name is Fiona. You were my
wedding photographer a few years back.” Shit. My hands are sweating. “Em… I was
browsing through your website and I got interested in your portraits.”
“Nice hearing from you, Fiona. Do
you want to do a family portrait?”
“Oh, no, no,” I fidget. “I, err… I
just got divorced.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“No, no, it’s a good thing
actually.” Damn. Did I have to say that? I clear my throat. “Anyway, I was
wondering about, em… the boudoir photos.”
“Sure, let me send you information
on a few of our standard packages. You can go with those, or we can arrange
something based on that.”
There, the sound of common sense
and business; his sober tone puts me back on my tracks.
I give him my email address and
hang up. Time to really get my shower.
Buy links:
Find and follow Anna everywhere!
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