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Monday, September 14, 2015

The Other Half Of Me by Lor Rose



The Other Half Of Me by Lor Rose
Author: Lor Rose
Title:  The Other Half Of Me
Series Title and Number: Patryk's Branch Book One
Publisher:  Thirteen Below Press
Release Date:  September 15, 2015
Genre:  Contemporary
Tags:  friends to lovers, gay for you, rock star, secret, detective
Purchase Links: eBook:  Thirteen Below Press  






Book Blurb
As a homicide detective for the greater Houston area, Detective Barrack Invar's job was stressful enough without his Lieutenant breathing down his neck to do more, not to mention his girlfriend, Isabella. His partner, Calhoun, was a joke. It didn’t help that over the years Barrack earned a reputation as being a bit of an asshole at work. Things for Barrack didn’t look any brighter in the wake of a murder case with absolutely no leads at all. Until he came home to a wonderful surprise. His best friend since the age of three had finally come home.

Willow only survived. His best friend since childhood, Barrack, was all that mattered to him. Willow craved any small scraps of affection Barrack was willing to give. Every look, every praise, every touch, tore Willow's soul because he was constantly reminded of what he couldn’t have. Barrack. When Willow unexpectedly returned home his insides burned with the need for the man he loved. The need to give control...

Barrack found his feelings towards Willow slowly twisted and changed. He loved his best friend. A man. For Barrack it was a very simple thing. Willow on the other hand could not accept what Barrack was freely willing to give. Willow did the only thing he knew. He ran.

Returning home, Willow's fears were confirmed when Barrack refused to come with him. Barrack's promises to follow seemed long in coming. Willow was left devastated feeling abandoned and alone.
Can Barrack convince Willow of his love? Will Willow allow Barrack to love him? 


Excerpt
The energy of the crowd and passion from the band was infectious. Barrack stood as close to the stage as he could. His body ached and his eyes itched with need for sleep after a long day at work then the concert, but it was worth it. Seeing him made it worth it.

He headed for the VIP line forming next to where NRG Stadium kept their performance stage when not in use. Other bodies ran into him, one group nearly running him over with their purple VIP passes swinging from their necks. Barrack shook his head. Purple badges like theirs only allowed them into VIP after-show signings, nothing special. Black was the next level up, with after-show backstage access and a gift signed from all the band members for Christmas. White, like his, allowed backstage access before and after shows, as well as the yearly gifts at Christmas and the holder's birthday, plus special one-on-one time with the band at a scheduled party near Halloween.

The organizers broke up the white badges into groups of seven per party to allow more one-on-one time. Hence, only twenty-one people had a white VIP badge. If a white badge didn't come to a white party more than twice in a row, they automatically lost their white VIP status since other people would use it to its full advantage, like him.

"Hey Barrack!"

He turned to see Bridge, the band's head of security, waving him over, then shouldered his way through the crowd, slowly making his way to the front of the line.

"Annoying, isn't it?" Bridge's voice had a slight rasp to it. He was a tall broad man with a stern-looking face and jaw. His hair looked swept back by the wind.

The two clasped hands and Bridge pulled him into a one-armed hug, each patting the other heavily on the back. “If I had to deal with this all the time, then shit yeah. Doesn’t it get annoying?” Barrack asked and gave Bridge one more hearty pat on the arm before releasing him.

Bridge shrugged. “Not really, no. How you’ve been?”

Barrack smiled at his old friend.  They had gotten close once a long time ago when they’d been undercover. When everything was all said and done with that case, the men had lost contact, only to be reacquainted a few years later when Emotio hit the scene.

He shrugged. "Same old, same old."

Bridge shook his head. "Come on." He opened the door to allow them inside. Barrack stepped into a much quieter but still busy space. Stage personnel hustled about doing whatever it was that they did. One was carrying a large stuffed rhinoceros—he didn't want to know.

"Barrack." Rex Louis Clark, the drummer waved and Barrack waved back. The man stood shirtless with raven black hair that shined blue in the light. A white stripe accented the side of his head. The tabloids had nicknamed him 'Skunk', and for good reason. He'd been known to have a bad temper. He was talking to Luxe, the band's stylist. Why, he didn't know since the man seemed to be allergic to shirts.

"Everyone else is in back," Bridge said. "The public signing will start in half an hour." Bridge patted him on the back and walked off, leading the way.

"That's it?" Half an hour seemed like a short break after such a performance.
Bridge shrugged. "Aksel and Patryk wanted to be done early."

"Wonder why," he mused aloud while they turned a corner.

Bridge sighed, but it sounded more like a disbelieving tsk. He opened another door and walked inside with Barrack following behind.

"You know you're the only fan we actually like enough to hang out with," Bishop, the lead guitarist, said from the wet bar. His silk black pirate shirt caught the light, highlighting his exposed chest. His shoulder-length bleached hair sported pink highlights at the tips, which faded up the length.

"That one isn't so bad," Aksel, the bass player, said as he plopped on the couch. His purple Mohawk didn't even move.

Titus, the piano or keyboard player, threw wadded paper at Aksel, which he caught. "Do ya mean Greg?" Titus's slight Irish accent came through. His all white hair almost glowed in the fluorescent lighting.

"I hate him," Bishop said as he took a long drink.

"That's because—" Patryk Sama'el, the lead singer, walked in from another door on the opposite side of the room. "—he drinks just as much alcohol as you." His hair was black, the sides of his head shaved into a military buzz, and the center was long, thick, and styled effortlessly to the side. A chunk of white highlighted his bangs. Diamond stud earrings decorated his ears. He had changed from his earlier outfit into skinny jeans and a loose rock and roll T-shirt. "And even we cannot afford that." His comment won a round of chuckles and the finger from Bishop.

The singer shook his head and plopped on the couch next to Aksel. Heavy black makeup framed his eyes, as did an elegant gray and black masquerade mask. This air of secrecy heightened Emotio's fame. No one had seen Patryk's face, not even Emotio's other members. Rumors soared over Patryk's looks, but the man in the center of it all, Patryk, neither confirmed nor denied anything. Patryk Sama'el symbolized mystery, and mysteries were intriguing.

"Hey Barrack," Patryk said with a tiny wave, looking relaxed but tired.

"Hey, guys." Barrack entered the room while Bridge said his goodbyes. "You want a water?" Barrack asked Patryk who nodded. Barrack had to practically shove Bishop out of the way to get to the wet bar.

He retrieved two waters, then handed one to Patryk while he sat between Aksel and Patryk. "Where's Dominik?" Another scan of the room confirmed the electric violinist wasn't there.
Titus tossed him the wad of paper, and he tossed it back. "Good question."

"Bathroom," Patryk supplied with a sigh.

Barrack looked him over. Patryk seemed to have melted farther into the couch since he sat down, "Okay?"

Patryk nodded. "Just tired."

"If I danced like you in them damn high heels, I'd be tired too." Bishop twirled and went back to the bar for another drink.

Before anyone could answer, Dominik walked in from the same door Patryk had. He stopped short when he saw Barrack. "Hey." On stage, Dominik was a force worthy of the band's fame, but in that moment, he seemed tiny and timid, as if he were two different people.

His emerald-green hair had white accents. Dominik's style was the most formal. A well-tailored suit showed off his form. The jacket was opened, exposing a white button-up shirt and loosened black silk necktie.

"You okay?" Barrack asked while getting up. "Here, sit. You look tired."

Dominik smiled, but it seemed sad to Barrack. "I'm fine."

"Please, sit." He motioned to the spot he’d given up. Dominik meekly nodded and slowly made his way to the sofa. To Barrack, he seemed to move a little too gingerly. "Thanks," Dominik said as he passed. Barrack's gaze zeroed in on him pressing his arm to his side. A small bruise visible on Dominik's knuckles made Barrack frown.

"Son of a bitch." Rex burst into the room and chucked something against the wall, but Barrack didn't see what it was. Barrack was too focused on Dominik's barely there flinch and subsequent wince.

He covered it up well. "Lose a bet?" Dominik's response was more subdued than usual as he sat.

Rex growled as he strode across the room to the other door. "Shut up," he snapped. "I'm taking a shower." The poor door almost groaned under Rex's grip as he wrenched it open, and the reverberating slam when he left sent a crack throughout the room.

"Well he's a ray of sunshine, isn't he?" Bishop listed to the side with a giggle.

Patryk sighed, but Barrack could tell he was watching Dominik, too. "Stop drinking. We still have the signing to do."

Bishop flipped him off again. "You gonna stop me?"

"And mess up this manicure?" Patryk waved black fingernails at him. "I don't think so. 

Barrack can subdue your drunk ass."

Bishop looked at him with bleary eyes. He must've been drinking on stage. "Wouldn't mind 'hat at all."

"Barrack is off limits. He's got that Willow fellow," Titus said while still tossing the wad of paper around.

Barrack shook his head. "We're not together."

Patryk chuckled. "The way you talk about him sure makes it seem you are."

Barrack moved and sat on the arm of the couch closest to Patryk. "Well, he does have a nice ass."

Bishop spit out his drink. "You're gay!"

"No." Barrack took Patryk's water and opened it, then gave it back. "Drink that," he said under his breath, then turned his attention back to Bishop. "But I can appreciate a nice ass when I see one."

"We have got to meet this Willow," Titus said. "He's all ya talk about."

Barrack shrugged. "He's busy."

Aksel heaved himself up. "The fucker is always busy," he said while retrieving his own water.

"Be nice," Patryk said.

Aksel made a jacking off motion. "Suck me."

Barrack laughed, but Patryk punched his thigh. "What?" He asked then took a drink of water.

"Don't encourage him," Patryk quipped, then took a swig of water.

A knock on the door stole everyone's attention. Bridge stuck his head in. "Signing starts in 5. Where's Skunk?"

Bishop giggled. "Ima tell you said 'hat."

"That's great, where is he?"

Barrack nodded to the other door. "Showering, should be about done."

Bridge walked into the room and to the other door. "You guys get out there and I'll get him."

"Better you than me," Patryk said as he got up.

The rest of the band followed with their own brand of sarcasm except for Dominik. He sat on the sofa and looked a little pale. "You okay?" Barrack asked again.

"Yeah. Help me up." Dominik offered his hand, and Barrack pulled him up. The man seemed too light even for his smaller physique.

Barrack watched Dominik walk. He had a slight hitch to his step. "If you ever need anything, I can help you."

Dominik stopped and turned. The gaze that met Barrack's could only be described as broken. "You're a really good friend." With that, Dominik strode off with Barrack following. 

They arrived at the signing and Dominik took his place between Aksel and Rex.

Bridge came up behind him. "Everything all right?"

He stepped back so he and Bridge were behind the band but out of earshot. "You know what I think."

"Yeah" was all Bridge said, and the two lapsed into silence. 




Author Bio
Lor is a snarky, over the top genderfluid polyamorous demipansexual with dark hair and pink highlights. Although, sometimes the color varies. She is almost constantly fighting with her muse, Animus, or referring the fights between Animus and Epicene, her other muse.

Lor started reading very questionable M/M fanfiction at a very young age in the closet. Literally. Though that didn’t stop her from getting caught once or twice.

This early love of things M/M sparked her writing career. Without a doubt, her Christian high school English teacher Mrs. B didn’t expect Lor to fall into the M/M genre.

Mrs. B did know Lor would be a writer someday because when the class had a minimum, Lor had a maximum. It truly was unfair.

Besides writing, Lor may also be found with one of her two horses, the Chihuahua or her cat. Any un-caught typos are courtesy of the cat, who shoves Lor’s things out of the way when it’s her time for cuddles or playtime… Which is about every ten minutes.

Author Links








Thursday, September 3, 2015

The Memory of Mermaids by Spencer Dryden




TITLE: The Memory of Mermaids
AUTHOR: Spencer Dryden
PUBLISHER:  Fireborn Publishing
RELEASE DATE:  August 21, 2015
GENRE:  Fantasy
PAIRING: Male/Female Mermaid
LENGTH: Novella









BOOK LINKS:

BLURB:
After he rescues a mermaid from a sea monster, Max Weiss falls into a world of pirate treasure, dolphin whisperers, murderous mobsters and a forbidden love.
Troubles multiply in the already-troubled life of Max Weiss after he rescues a mermaid from the clutches of a sea monster. Drawn by the allure of the enchanting mermaid, Azzaria, Max agrees to help her find her lost mermaid sister. Max is pulled into a world of missing drug money, pirate treasure, murderous mobsters, dolphin whisperers and a forbidden love.


Let’s start with the basics… 

When did you write your first story and what was the inspiration for it?

My first writing was a three part story where a narrator describes his quest to learn how to please a woman sexually. While it was never published. the middle story became the backbone for a short story, Storm Across the Prairie which was part of charity anthology Coming Together Against the Storm. The inspiration was born out of my own curiosity. At age 63 (then) I realized I actually knew very little about good sex.

Do you have a writing schedule or do you just write when you can find the time?

Sorry to say right now I'm writing when I find time which is not a productive strategy, the tyranny of the urgent pulls me away too easily. Come fall my day job demands lessen and in January i qualify for Social Security so hopefully with less time dedicated to work, I can settle into a regular daily schedule

Briefly describe the writing process. Do you create an outline first?  Do you seek out inspirational pictures, videos or music? Do you just let the words flow and then go back and try and make some sense out it?

At the very early stages of a story I have to give myself permission to simply look out the window and let my mind wander around the premise. In the case of my current novella, The Memory of Mermaids, it was imagining what might happen if an ordinary guy living in the world today encountered a mermaid. My scenes almost always begin with dialogue, then I go back and fill in all the other details. Mermaids is the first story I've written using an outline. Actually what I use are post-it notes on a blank piece of paper-like a story board.


How much research do you do when writing a story and what are the best sources you’ve found for giving an authentic voice to your characters?

With Mermaids I made a conscious decision not to do research into mermaid lore or other mermaid stories. I've never read a mermaid sotry. I haven't even seen Little Mermaid. I was afraid that if I put too much knowledge in my head it would bleed through into my character. I wanted to preserve the innocence and wonder my MC would experience. I used real places around the area of my adopted home of Summer Haven, Florida to keep me grounded in reality. I wanted his experience to be as genuine as I could make it.

What’s harder, naming your characters, creating the title for your book or the cover design process?

The title is usually one of the first things that appears in my mind. I have to rely on cover artists. If I did covers it would be stick men. My artistic talent has remained un-evolved since kindergarten. I often name minor characters for friends who have passed. The character bares little resemblance to the deceased but mentioning the mane is a kind of immortality for dearly departed friends.

"How do you answer the question “Oh, you're an author...what do you write?"

Only a very few people know of my writing. Up to this point most of what I have written is erotica. If my family, friends and associates knew of my interests in erotica, they would drop dead in horror. I simply don't have the desire, time or energy to enlighten them, but I also don't want to offend them. My plan is that my writing identity will be revealed at my wake with oversized posters of the tawdry covers from my books. That'll give them something to talk about over the luncheon.

What does your family think of your writing?

My wife is the only member of my family who knows. She let's me do my thing. While she is an avid reader it's like pulling teeth to get her to read my stuff.

Tell us about your current work in process and what you’ve got planned for the future.

The Memory of Mermaids is a story about an ordinary guy down on his luck who saves a mermaid from the clutches of a sea monster. She brings him the monster's treasure as a reward and then entices him to help her find her lost mermaid sister. Max Weiss gets pulled into a world of pirates treasure, missing drug money, murderous mobsters, dolphin whisperers and a forbidden love.

Going forward I want to move away from erotic short stories and into longer more involved works. Mermaids is more fantasy/action/adventure than my past work.  I've been working for a long time on a three part scify/fantasy series that I hope to bring to light soon.

Do you have any advice for all the aspiring writers out there?

Keep working. I wrote the core story of Mermaids three years ago. It was rejected numerous times. It's been through major revisions and additions. All along though I believed it was a good story. Now I guess it's time to let the reading public judge.

Now the fun stuff…

If you could travel forward or backward in time, where would you go and why?

I think I'd like to go forward to see if any of my predictions came to pass. I'd avoid the obituaries though. I wouldn't want to know the date or cause of my death.

We’ve all got a little voyeurism in us right?  If you could be a fly on the wall during an intimate encounter between two characters, not your own, who would they be?
Got to go to the movies for this one. It would be further into the love scene between Kevin Costner and Susan Sarandon in Bull Durham . She wasn't a classic movie beauty but she had a smoking hot sexuality and of course Kevin was a guys guy back then. I imagine it was lights out sex.

If I were snooping around your kitchen and looked in your refrigerator right now, what would I find?

Lots of condiments. My wife is always buying condiments. There's no room for food.

If you could be a superhero, what would you want your superpowers to be?

I'd want the power of suggestion. I could place a thought into someone's mind and they would feel compelled to act on it.

If you could trade places with one of your characters, who would it be and why?

It would be Clayton Stoner,  from my short story, Love Above See Level. He's a surfer/beach bum living the carefree life I've always wanted. He also get to make love to a tall woman. I have a thing for tall women.

If you could sequester yourself for a week somewhere and just focus on your writing, where would you go and what would the environment be like?

It would be my adopted home of Summer Haven, Florida. It's a quiet ocean side community. Walking along the beach every day is so inspiring. I'll be doing that again in early October, staying at a friend's house while they are at their summer home up in the mountains of North Carolina.

What's the one thing, you can't live without?

Coffee

What internet site do you surf to the most?

Hot BBR

If you had your own talk show, who would your first three author guests be and why?

Three dead guys who have had the biggest influence on my writing, Joseph Heller, Kurt Vonnegut, Rod Serling

When you got your very first manuscript acceptance letter, what was your initial reaction and who was the first person you told?

I pulled the blinds so no one could see me doing a little dance, then I texted my wife.



AUTHOR BIO:
Spencer Dryden is a new writer, but an old guy on the threshold of draining any reserves left in Medicare and Social Security.
In real life he is a handyman, an at-home dad, inventor and web videographer living a quiet life in the frozen tundra of Minnesota (USA).
Like all writers he has a cat but they don't get along well. He can be found at the usual writer hangouts:


GIVEAWAY DETAILS:

Rafflecopter Giveaway – Mermaids and Seashells Gift Basket valued at $100.00



Basket Contents:

Memory of Mermaids gift basket includes;
Seashell Gift Box that looks like a Book
Bamboo Fiber Bath Scrub
Mermaid Ornament
Mermaid window decal
Starfish Glass Soap Dish
Sea Clay Dry Body Scrub 5 ounce
Shimmering Mineral Bath 5 ounce
Soy Milk Bath scent Mermaid Dreams (2 standard tub uses or 1 garden tub size) scent Mermaid Dreams
Bath Melts (2 standard tub uses or 1 garden tub use)
Shimmer Body Powder scent Memory of Mermaids
Cocoa Butter Lip Balm – passion fruit
Organic Sugar Lip Scrub- passion fruit
Sea Urchin Massage Bar Soap
Mermaid Olive Oil Soap
Nautilus Soap
Conch Soap
Sand Dollar Soap