Tuesday, 24 October 2017

The Year of the Cock by Shane Morton - Release Blitz

Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK

Cover Design: Ry Higdon Photography

Add to Goodreads here


Jon seems to have it all. He is a social butterfly that always has a place to go, things to do, and people to constantly surround him. The one thing he's missing is someone to truly love. How can he love someone else when he doesn't like the person staring back at him in the mirror?

He is that magical being that no one chooses to be, the third wheel. He has filled his life with happy couples, in various states of married bliss, that fills the hole in his heart with the acceptance and understanding he secretly craves.

Told by the people who know him best, The Year Of The Cock, is a year in the growth of their best friend, Jon. Can he learn to love, to open himself up to the messy truth of relationships? Will he finally become the person he has tried to repress his entire adult life or will the year-end with him stuck in the status quo of his gay bachelorhood?

Excerpt - Chapter 1

New Year’s Eve

My apartment sparkled with the promise of a great party. I spent all day hanging streamers and preparing for the festivities. By the time the caterer dropped off the food everything was perfect. I asked my friends to be here at 9 pm, and as always, they did not disappoint. By 9:30, we were all having a grand time. The doorbell rang, and it was someone I loved waiting there, excited to bring in the New Year with me. My friends are all a little insane, I mean, whose aren’t right? They’re just like everyone else in the world, doing their best to be happy. Hell, I guess I am too. Happiness comes, and happiness goes but the days trickle by, regardless.

The thing about my friends is that none of them really know each other. A few of them have met once or twice at some function or event, but very rarely. It’s not like I planned it that way or anything… It’s just the way life has worked out.

I am that strange magical being, the thing that no one ever strives to be, the third wheel, the hanger-on or even worse, the spare. You see, all of my friends are either married, partnered up, or engaged. If you look through the lens of my life, it appears glossy and slick, but it’s always in close-up. A tight solo shot of me because I have no one standing beside me, at least not for long. Relationships are messy, and I hate messy. I am the last living single gay man in Los Angeles. In my mind, I am the last single sane person who doesn’t want to belong to someone else. The thought of having to ask permission, or constantly worry about someone else’s thoughts and feelings sounds horrifying to me. It leaves me cold, and I’m not an ice princess, in fact, I think I run hotter than most people. I have emotions, passions, and fears just like everyone else. I just prefer being single.

My friends fill the void of a relationship. They are always my plus two.

Now, I haven’t purposely kept them apart. It just never really came up. I mean, they all know about each other, through my stories and bad double dates shared at one time or another with one of my couples.

My couples… yes, I do know how that sounds.

The first to arrive was Alan, one of my oldest friends, and his incredibly high-larious wife, Tami. Alan went to college with me, where he majored in frat parties and accounting. He tries hard to be a comedian but always ends up falling charmingly flat because he just isn’t quite as funny as he believes himself to be. His wife, Tami though is a character. She’s kind of quiet and then all of a sudden here comes a zinger. I mean, she’s Ginsu knife sharp. She was a poli-sci major from Brown, and she is eternally ready to graduate with the elusive master’s degree that she just can’t seem to finish. Honestly, I really don’t think she wants to. They’ve been married for close to ten years, just one year out of college and I got to be the best man at their wedding. They have a great relationship except when it comes to their vices. Hers is food, and she is always on a perpetual diet. He is a rotating cabinet of options. He gave up pot. He failed to give up drinking, which he attempts at random patterns, for health reasons of course. This year, it has been smoking. Alan is not very good at giving things up… Neither is Tami.

“First to arrive,” Alan laughs as he walked into the door. “Figures, See Tami I told you we would be the first ones here. Her inability to be late drives me crazy.”

“Piss off Alan,” she laughed easily, sauntering past him to kiss me lightly on the cheek. “I know I’m silly Jon darling, but honestly if we didn’t leave ASAP, I was going to have another slice of that fucking cake Alan’s mother sent over. I swear she is trying to give me diabetes so I will die and he can remarry.”

“Well Tami,” I said as she walked by me towards the food table. “You are the devil in the red dress that stole her son and made him move to the big city. And by the way, she sent me a cake too.”

“That evil hag,” Tami said spinning around with a look of shock on her face. “See Alan, I told you she hates me.”

“Honey, I know, my mother has been telling me that for years,” Alan said winking at me.

These two can keep their bantering up for hours. Flirtation for them is a little dangerous around the edges, but they both know where the line is, that secret place between teasing, flirting and causing pain and they rarely cross over it.

When they do, I go home.

Before Alan could start in on how busy he was going to be for the next few months (tax season of course) the doorbell rang again, and at this point, I had no idea which of my friends would be next. I knew who would be first, and I know who will be last, but the in-betweeners would be random. I excused myself and opened the door.

Julie and Pam were standing there looking like I caught them mid-squabble. Julie gave me a big smile, as Pam winked at me. Julie and Pam have been together for about seven years. They refuse to get married in the traditional sense and have had vows said on the beach in a domestic partnership ritual or something. They are amazing. Julie is a second-grade schoolteacher and has a very matronly look. I think people are surprised to discover she is a lesbian because there is something so incredibly Norman Rockwell about her. She is a little timid and always worried about what other people might think. In truth, she’s a little square and usually, the only sober person wherever she is.

Her “almost” wife, Pam is the complete opposite of her. Pam is a little more butch than her girlfriend and loves sports. She calls herself a lesbian cliché because she is a gym teacher and trainer. For someone who is as health conscious as she is, Pam loves to smoke pot. These two are the perfect pair for each other. Pam needs to control every aspect of her life and Julie seems to like being controlled, so a match made in heaven.

“Hi honey,” Julie said smiling at me holding a bottle of expensive looking champagne tightly in her hands. It was funny, given that she almost never drinks.

“Hello, gorgeous. Get in here,” I say opening my arms wide just to receive her warm embrace. Julie is a class A hugger, and if it were possible to hug professionally, she could be doing it. I think her hugs are about my favorite thing in the world because whenever she has her arms wrapped around you, you know, without a doubt, that you are truly cared for and loved.

“Sup player-player,” Pam said, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry about that. She was asking me to not drink too much tonight. She doesn’t want to drive with all the drunks on the road.”

“Well that’s out of the bag, isn’t it?” Julie said lightly. She said it as if she didn’t care, and that’s how Pam will take it, but I know differently.

“Why don’t you two stay in the guest bedroom tonight?” I say trying to ease the tension. I hope that it will help Julie relax and loosen up so she can let go and enjoy the party. “We can have brunch down the street tomorrow,” I add, trying to sweeten the pot.

“Oh honey, that wouldn’t be too much trouble?” Julie said her eyes opening wide. “That would be great. Wouldn’t it, Pam?” she said, waiting for the final word to be given.

“Sure, sounds great. Now can I please have a beer?” Pam said kissing her on the top of the head.

“You two go in and meet Alan and Tami,” I say, hearing footsteps down below climbing the stairs. My lesbian’s walk into the living room and I hear Alan and Pam trying to remember where they met that one time, many years ago.

I wait for whichever of my guests were currently ascending up to my second story walk-up apartment. I can tell that they are not wearing heels, so that must mean it’s my friends Kris and Danny, I love them. They just got engaged a few months ago, and I couldn’t be happier for them, really. They are both incredible people, and I am so glad they found each other in this city where no one seems to ever say hello unless they think you can do something for them. LA is so superficial… I love it.

I hear Kris laughing halfway up the stairs. He is just a tad bit neurotic; I think even he would admit that. Kris worries a lot and says that if he could just stop himself from thinking all the time, everything would be all right. He graduated from NYU, and I call him whenever I want fashion advice because he has the most amazing taste. Kris is truly a style genius. He’s also gorgeous… If I didn’t love him so much, I would have to hate him.

His partner Danny is pure country. He is from Mississippi and has the most adorable accent. What I love the most about Danny is how nothing ever fazes him. He is always so cool and collected and just soooo incredibly nice. We met and had sex when I first moved to LA, years ago and it, of course, didn’t work out, but somehow we have remarkably remained very close friends. I am even going to be the best man at their wedding on the Summer solstice. Danny is a total sci-fi nerd, and the date has something to do with King Arthur or something. Honestly, I was only half listening when he told me about it. I was just amazed at how lucky he was to catch Kris when he did. Some guys have all the luck, I swear.

I see Danny’s head come around the corner smiling at me. “Come on honey,” he says teasingly, tossing the words over his shoulder.

“Jon… Oh my goddess,” Kris says as he stumbles around the corner. “Honestly handsome we have got to get you a condo on the first floor. I am exhausted and need to take a siesta asap,” his smile beams at me from down the hallway. He has the most beautiful smile, it lights up wherever he is… I should hate him.

“Come in gentleman… and Kris,” I say teasingly. Sometimes I wonder if Danny thinks I am flirting with Kris. Sometimes I wonder if I am flirting with Kris. That would be very very bad. I tune it down, just a notch. “Danny, I know that you know Alan. Introduce yourselves please.”

They each give me a hug and kiss as Danny reaches around and pinches my butt. This is something we have done for years. Neither one of us remembers why, but I think we would each be devastated if we ever stopped. It’s soothing and calming like pulling on your favorite hoodie when there’s a chill in the air. I enjoy knowing what to expect, and Danny never disappoints me.

I hear the buzzer ring downstairs. I look over at Danny and Kris. “Hey did you guys keep the door propped open?” I ask, knowing the answer before I even ask.

“Are you kidding? That’s just asking someone to come in with a hatchet and turn you into a meat dress,” Kris says as if this is the most rational explanation. To him… it is.

“I’ll be back in a second,” I say opening the door for them. “Please talk about me while I’m gone,” I announce to my guests.

“I wouldn’t want to bore them, Jon,” Alan says grinning wickedly at me.

“I promise to keep everyone in line,” Danny says conspiratorially.

From the top of the stairs, I see another two of my favorite people in the world through the glass door. I think you are probably starting to see a pattern here. Nicole and Jim got married the day they graduated college. They are a couple years older than me and have become total health nuts in the last few years. Nicole is a lot like Julie, one of the nicest, sweetest and kindest human beings I have ever met. Nicole is positive and upbeat even when faced with adversity. She says it’s because of her faith. You would never know that she was a devout Christian. God is love to her, and that’s all she needs to know. She says the Bible is full of bullshit because it was written by flawed men and then edited by kings and people with agendas. I would worship her if she let me.

Her husband Jim is so very different from her. He’s a great guy and all, and I love him dearly, and we’ve become very close over the years, and I would do absolutely anything for him. It’s just… Well, he’s just very Massachusettsy. A total East Coast snob if ever there was one. Or that’s what Nicole says about him anyway. He just nods, agrees and moves on. I can’t tell if it bothers him or not, but my gut instinct is probably no. He seems to be happy with who he is flaws and all. He’s incredibly handsome, and kind of reminds me of a Kennedy. I just wish he could relax more. He’s always stressed out about work, I mean, he is a lawyer, so that makes sense and all, but I just wish he could mellow out a little bit more.

I get to the bottom of the stairs, and they are looking at me through the door, happy to see me. I know how lucky I am to have such great friends. I know this, and these two are incredibly unique. They just seem to get each other so well. They fit together in ways that I have never seen a couple fit. They make sense in ways that I have never seen humans make sense together. They are the perfect couple, and if I could find the person I made sense with then maybe… who knows.

“Hi guys,” I smile broadly at them. “Welcome to my bachelor pad,” I say this because Nicole is always teasing me about my place and my single lifestyle.

“Lucky you,” Jim says through clenched teeth. “You can fart and belch all you want.”

“Gross,” Nicole elbows him in the ribs lightly. “Lead on, you beautiful, sassy man you.” She says gesturing towards the stairs. “You might need to send the pulleys down and hire me a Sherpa. I have been neglecting my daily rituals.”

I look at her perfectly fit body and laugh at how silly she sometimes is. “I think you’ll survive the Matterhorn dear.”

“Move that ass,” Jim says as he playfully slaps her lightly on the behind. I can see from the set of her jaw that it was not appreciated. However, Nicole is too much of a lady to ever make a scene, another reason that I adore her.

“Don’t worry, there’s a boy halfway up with a water pail and a loaf of stale, moldy bread,” I tease as they start their climb. I make sure that the door is jammed open with the small piece of wood I sometimes use for occasions such as this. Well okay… Usually, it’s a date or a masseuse making an out call.

I take the stairs two at a time and catch up with Jim and Nicole who are quietly discussing something of dire importance, I am sure. “Am I interrupting?”

“Oh my love, you are never interrupting,” Jim says as he puts his hand on my shoulder. “I hope you realize how much you are loved, Jon.”

I am a little surprised by his admission. It’s raw and open and jagged and kind of messy. I love it because it comes from them, but it also makes me feel a little awkward. I’ve never been good at messy emotions, which is probably one of the biggest reasons I am single.

“Okay, boys. I need a glass of champagne. Can we love each other with a drink? Is Julie here already?” Nicole asks, smiling at me. I forget that those two actually know each other. They’re both teachers, so I guess that makes sense.

“Inside already,” I say opening the door.

“Thank you, kind sir,” She said as she giggled past me.

“Women,” Jim smiled as if this explained every mystery in the world.

“Queer,” I answer back.

“And how!” A voice squawks loudly from behind us. “As queer as a three dollar bill in the g string of Kim Jong Il the third. And honey that shit is just… well, gay.”

“Bitch,” I counter turning around slowly, a grin planted on my face.

“Hello, whoore,” my oldest guest whistles through his teeth teasingly. If anyone in this group could be considered family, it would be this old queen whom I adore more than just about anyone. Ted is a 60-year-old smart-ass with a heart of gold. He is probably the most cynical smart ass I have ever met, and I love every drop of acid he spews. Ted has really lived. He moved to LA from New York in the late 1980’s to escape from all of his friend’s funerals. He said he just couldn’t take wearing black ever again, and I don’t think he ever has. He’s a real survivor. He’s been HIV positive for over thirty years and somehow like a cockroach after the nuclear bomb fell, he survived when everyone he knew did not. I imagine, at one point in his life, he was probably very upbeat and happy. Now, he dishes to get by. He would kill for those he loves and is the most loyal person I know.

“Happy New Years Jon,” his partner of five years says in his easy-going way. “Is Kerry upstairs?”

Conrad is two years younger than me. I know how that sounds and I thought the same thing, at first. West Hollywood Boy toy, looking for a come up and hoping to get in the will before the old bag kicks it… but that would be wrong. Conrad is devoted to Ted. He takes care of him, makes him behave and take his meds and has a career and life all his own. Conrad is just in love with a man who could easily be his grandfather. Well, he’s not his father, but he does call him daddy if you get my drift. They are adorable.

“Kerry isn’t coming,” I said a little gloomy, but honestly our thousandth breakup was for the best.

“Oh Jon,” Conrad shook his head. “Sorry honey.”

“Jon dear,” Ted said winding up for the sting. “Can you please point this boy scout to the gin? Daddy needs a drink.” With that, he brushed past me and headed to the hors dourves. Ted always knows how to make an entrance. And now all of my guests had finally arrived.

The party was a huge success. Numbers were traded, Facebook friends were accepted, and followers were found on Instagram. It felt great to know that I was the glue who brought all these wonderful people together. I found myself floating around trying to keep everyone happy, imbibed and having a great time. Looking around, I knew how lucky I was that these people loved me. Then I remembered that each of them had someone else to love too. They each had someone to go home to and be held accountable by. I could never be that person. I didn’t want to be held accountable by anyone, especially not this faceless person who might be my other half. The thought at first made me feel like I couldn’t breathe as if someone had gut-punched me and I couldn’t catch my breath. I walked out to the balcony, hoping that no one had noticed and tried to release the tension in my body. Even surrounded by everyone I loved, I was still alone.

I realized I had been away long enough and started to head back inside when it hit me. I do have a place I belong. Love and relationships are messy, and they are for messy people. These people that I surround myself with are as close as I want to come to that.

“Darling, grab that bottle of champagne and pop it quick. The ball is going to drop in three minutes,” Ted said as he pushed the bottle into my hand. “You are the hostess with the mostess,” he winked at me.

I popped the cork and walked around filling everyone’s glass with the expensive bubbly. We gathered into a circle, and a hush fell over us as we all stared and smiled at each other. Anderson Cooper and Kathy Griffin were helping us count down and as the New Year hit everyone took their loved ones into their arms and gave them a passionate kiss. I stood there finishing my champagne. As they broke out of their private reveries, they all noticed me and I received the best group hug in the history of group hugs.

“For God sakes, Jon, this year I, want you to want more. Everyone deserves someone to love, my child,” Ted said lightly into my ear.

And that is how my year began.

Author Bio

Shane K Morton lives in Studio City, CA with his husband Jody and their fur baby Slayer. His first novel, The Trouble With Off-Campus Housing was published in 2016. When not writing, Shane can be found at a film festival or performing cabaret somewhere in a dark dive bar in LA.

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Thursday, 19 October 2017

Improper Fraction by V.L. Locey - Release Blitz

Cover Design: Reverie Design 

Length: 68,690 words


O’Malley Ramsey, math aficionado, grew up next door to Garrison Rook, All-American athlete. While O’Malley dreamed of numbers and kissing Garrison, Garrison’s tastes ran to home runs and hot chicks. During a family celebration the night before both young men were heading off for college, O’Malley joyously discovers that Garrison isn’t quite as straight as the star athlete had been pretending to be. Vows to return to each other quickly followed a few clumsy kisses in the old treehouse in the Rook’s backyard.

O’Malley came home to Garrison. Garrison never returned to O’Malley.

Four years later, the two ex-friends meet up at a summer camp where O’Malley is serving as a counselor. Garrison is desperate to make things right with his childhood friend, but can O’Malley, still nursing the pain and mistrust of Garrison’s betrayal, ever forgive or love Garrison again?

Author Bio

V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a flock of assorted domestic fowl, and two Jersey steers.

When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand. She can also be found online on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and GoodReads.

Wednesday, 18 October 2017

Deacon's Law (Heroes #3) by R.J. Scott - Release Blitz

Cover Design: Meredith Russell

Length: 50,000 words approx.

Heroes Series

A Reason To Stay (Book #1) - Amazon US | Amazon UK
Last Marine Standing (Book #2) - Amazon US | Amazon UK


How can you trust the man who tried to kill you?

Undercover cop Deacon Shepherd lost everything trying to maintain his cover - the man he loved and the future he craved. He walked away and never looked back because it was the only way to keep Rafael alive.

The last thing he needs is to be dragged back in that world, but an attempt on Rafael's life is enough to make him risk his heart again.

Rafael 'Rafe' Ramirez wakes up in the hospital, the victim of a hit and run. He’s horrified when the first face he sees is that of the man who betrayed him and left him for dead three years before. Witness protection had stripped Rafe of his family and friends, and now it seems his sacrifice to bring his Uncle to justice was for nothing.

Someone wants Rafe dead, and the only way he can stay alive is to go with the murdering drug dealer who broke his heart. But how can he ever trust Deacon, and how can Deacon protect Rafe without falling in love all over again?


Rafe opened his eyes, attempting to focus on the ceiling above him. He tried to lift his hand, but it felt as if there was lead in his veins, everything heavy and he couldn’t move. They’d told him he was getting better, so what the hell had happened? Had he relapsed? Why was he convinced that they’d taken him somewhere in an ambulance? That he’d leaned against a leather jacket that smelled of sunshine and soap? He blinked until the ceiling finally coalesced into the tiles he was familiar with.

Only there were no tiles.

Instead, the ceiling was a smooth white, and there were no strip lights, just a lampshade in a curious shade of blue. He blinked again. This didn’t make sense.

But when he opened his eyes, nothing had changed. The ceiling was still white, the lampshade blue, and the drapes at the window matched the shade. The drapes. There were drapes at the window. Confusion morphed into panic and he turned his head to the right to get a better feel for where he was and he saw…him.

Sprawled awkwardly in the chair, his head back, long limbs this way and that, clearly too big for the chair, was a specter from a past that wouldn’t leave him alone.


Intense fear sliced into Rafe.

They’d found him, had him strapped to a bed…was it Deacon who’d tracked him down and driven a car at him? He was paralyzed with a fear that made it hard to breathe, and he yanked at his hand, hoping to escape his restraints, only he wasn’t tied down, there was no rope. Instead his hand came up fast and he rolled sideways. Catching himself and coming off the bed, forgetting the fact that his leg was in a cast and toppling sideways, falling with a crash into a cabinet. He flailed but couldn’t stop himself falling, and he knew this was it – this time he was really going to die.

Deacon was up and at his side in an instant, and Rafe wanted to shut his eyes, wanted to block out seeing Deacon’s face again as he died, but he had to watch. He wanted Deacon to see his fear, and maybe that would stop him; maybe he could make Deacon stop and think.

“Shit, Rafe— Craig,” Deacon said, and reached for him, grasping his arms.

Terror became ice inside him, and Rafe stopped fighting; like a deer caught in headlights, he froze.

“What happened?” A second man stood in the doorway, someone Rafe didn’t know – tall, dark and dangerous-looking. Maybe this new arrival could stop Deacon?

“Help me,” Rafe forced out, looking past Deacon, scrambling to stand as the ice melted and he pushed himself to move.

“He woke up, saw me, and fell out of bed,” Deacon said, and the other man came right in. There were two of them, and there was little Rafe could do to get away. There and then, he screwed his eyes shut; nothing was going to save him now.

But there was no pain, no bullet. Instead, the two men helped him to stand, and then he felt the bed at the back of his thighs and they sat him down.

“Are you okay?” Deacon asked. Even with his eyes shut, Rafe recognized his voice. He would never forget the tone of it, or the coldness of the man who’d tried to kill him. He said nothing.

“Open your eyes,” the other man asked.


“Craig? Rafe? My name is Mac. We’re here to help you.”

But fear was choking him and he couldn’t breathe. “No,” he managed between attempts to inhale enough oxygen not to pass out.

“He’s panicking. What the hell did you do, D?”

“Tried to fucking kill him three years ago, remember?”

Author Bio

RJ Scott is the bestselling romance author of over 100 romance books. She writes emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, millionaire, princes, and the men and women who get mixed up in their lives. RJ is known for writing books that always end with a happy ever after. She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn't with family either reading or writing.

The last time she had a week’s break from writing she didn't like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a bottle of wine she couldn’t defeat.


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Tuesday, 17 October 2017

The Wyverns Series by L.M. Somerton - Review Tour


What can you expect from The Wyverns series?

Well, plenty of action and an equivalent amount of kink! The Wyverns isn’t a typical motorcycle club and its members aren’t typical bikers. They do have plenty of attitude and a knack for getting into trouble. Their leader, Rogue Hellaby, is as fierce as the dragon adorning his back and has little patience for the brat he is ordered to kidnap. Orlando de la Pena proves to be almost as much of a challenge as the gunrunners and drug cartels that The Wyverns regularly butt heads with and that’s how the series begins – with kidnap and kink! 

The book titles are all linked by the word ‘trap’ because the members of The Wyverns are all trapped by the past, which ties them to a life they reluctantly enjoy. Linking them all together is a mysterious character called Mr. Trap, who manipulates their vulnerabilities shamelessly. This mystery threads through the series and is resolved in the new book, Steel Trap.


Book Title: Steel Trap (The Wyverns #5)
Author L.M. Somerton
Publisher: Pride Publishing (Bonnaire)
Cover Artist: Emmy Ellis
Length: Words: 23,153/No. of Pages: 69
General Release Date: October 17
Genre/s: Contemporary MM (note that 3 of the books in the series have BDSM themes, 2 do not)



Secrets don’t stay hidden forever. 

Hatchet has a thing for the enigmatic Mr. Smith, Horatio Trap’s spokesman. He’d love to get his hands on the pretty man and show him how good it feels to take orders for once rather than hand them out. He’s had his eye on Smith for years and he’s running out of patience. 

The Wyverns’ involvement in the drug trade is limited to stealing money from the cartels—they don’t want junk peddled on their turf. When Trap orders them to destroy a crack cocaine factory in Phoenix, they are happy to oblige. But Smith throws a spanner in the works by posing as a potential buyer, putting himself in mortal danger. 

Hatchet and The Wyverns come up with a plan to fake Smith’s death, muscle in on the deal and convince the cartel to do business with them instead. But when Hatchet’s cover is blown he’s left to save a bunch of illegals, destroy the drugs and wipe the factory from the face of the planet. It’s all in a night’s work for The Wyverns—but there are still secrets to uncover and the mysterious Horatio Trap and his mind games can’t stay hidden forever.


Buy Links
“We need a new fucking couch,” Hatchet grumbled. “My spine is turning into a pretzel.” He threw off the thin blanket covering him then swung his legs around so he could sit up. The scent of fresh coffee tickled his nostrils.
“So sleep in a bed like the rest of us,” Orlando said, far too bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for first thing in the morning. He stood next to the couch wafting a mug back and forth. His lime green top hurt Hatchet’s eyes.
“Gimme that coffee, brat.” Hatchet made a swipe for the mug but Orlando stepped away out of reach.
“Nope. This is for Smith. He deserves it more than you do.”
“He’s the reason I need a chiropractor on call.” Hatchet rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Fuck, I need a shower.” He’d slept in an old T-shirt and sweats.
Orlando’s delicate button nose wrinkled. “I could hose you down outside if you like?”
Hatchet levered himself erect. At his full height, he towered over Orlando. “The only scenario I’d enjoy involving you, me and a hose would have the nozzle invading a certain part of your anatomy.”
Orlando’s eyes widened. His lower lip quivered. He thrust the mug of coffee in Hatchet’s direction.
“You think I’m falling for that hurt puppy routine?” Hatchet grabbed the mug before Orlando could change his mind. He took a long swallow. “This was for me all along, wasn’t it?”
Orlando grinned. “I gave Smith his ages ago. You were still snoring. Like a water buffalo.” He scampered toward the kitchen before Hatchet could react. He’d need at least one more mug before he felt up to chasing after Rogue’s obnoxious sub. The coffee was good though.
“The brat giving you trouble?” Rogue, leader of The Wyverns motorcycle club, strolled over.
“Always.” Hatchet raised his mug in a mock-toast. “Makes good coffee, though, so providing you keep warming his ass on a regular basis, I can handle him.”
Rogue ran a hand through his dirty blond hair. “Well, you could be in for a few rough days. I’m thinking about heading out to California. A road trip, then a few days on the beach. I want to see if I can still stand on a surfboard without wiping out.”
Hatchet’s eyes narrowed. “Wait. You’re leaving him here?”
Rogue shrugged. “I told him we were both going, but he said he had to stay here and take care of Smith since you were doing… What were his words? Oh, yeah. A piss poor job of it.”
“He said what?” Rogue had better find himself a new plaything. By the time Hatchet finished burying the brat, they’d never find hide nor hair.
“I’m kidding. Yeah, we’re leaving later today. You okay to handle things here while I’m gone?”
“You know it. As long as you’re taking the brat with you. And, yeah, I almost had a heart attack when you suggested you weren’t.”
Rogue chuckled. “I’m going to let him know now. Smith’s leaving today, right?”
“So he says.” Hatchet shrugged. “Shelton thinks he should rest up a few more days but that man is stubborn as a mule.”
“At least you get your bed back.”
“There is that.” Hatchet stretched, easing the kinks from his muscles. He’d rather Smith remained in his bed, preferably naked, possibly tied down, but he wasn’t going to admit that to Rogue. From his grin, Rogue knew what he was thinking, anyway.



“Holy shit, he grumbled. “Rogue was right. We are getting domesticated.” – Hatchet

Of course ‘domesticated’ is a relative term, open to interpretation and let’s just say that Hatchet’s definition of domestication may not quite match everybody else’s — thankfully.

In fact, our Hatchet is a no nonsense, straight shooting and talking badass biker, not even trying to make himself look or behave ‘acceptable’ and he’s all the more glorious for it.

Mr. Smith is a bit of an enigma. While it has been clear that he is the go-between for The Wyverns and their mysterious leader, Horatio Trap, we’ve learned little about him except that Hatchet has a thing for him. Some of the veil was lifted in Sandtrap but it isn’t until this book that we get to learn more about this man who is not quite what — and so much more than — he appears to be at first.

The relationship between Hatchet and Smith is hot as f**k and equally intriguing, especially since Hatchet takes firm control of the man who is normally in charge of telling him and the rest of his gang what to do. And Smith has no problem whatsoever doing exactly what Hatchet instructs him to do when they’re alone. Because, while it is certainly true that the relationships in Steeltrap and Rattrap are not BDSM-based, the following quote fits both Hatchet and Teddy to a T:

“You’re not a Dom.” Smith pouted.
“Nope, but I am dominant and you love it.”

While I sincerely hope I’m wrong, I wouldn’t be surprised if this turns out to be the final The Wyverns’ story; by the end of Steeltrap all mysteries have been resolved. Having said that, the possibility of more adventures in the future has been left open, and I for one would love to see more of these characters and their antics, both in the world at large and in the privacy of their respective bedrooms.

If you like your men rough, ready, and big-hearted, your sex scenes hot and furious, and your adventures adrenaline fuelled and breath-taking, you could do a lot worse than lose yourself in these five novellas. Enjoy!






Not all cages have bars.

The Wyverns Motorcycle Club has a reputation as fierce as its dragon emblem. Its enigmatic leader, Rogue Hellaby, has a police file so thick you could prop up a table with it. The qualifications for membership are a reckless disregard for authority and the attitude of a spitting cobra. But The Wyverns MC is not quite what it seems. All the riders have dubious histories in the military or the police—now they just serve and protect their own interests and those of Horatio Trap, the manipulative bastard who recruited them.

When Rogue receives an instruction to kidnap and hold hostage the son of a powerful drug lord, he doesn’t bat an eyelid. But Rogue has never had to deal with a captive like Orlando de la Pena. Orlando is furious—not because he’s being held prisoner, but because he’s prevented from partying at his favorite BDSM club. Rogue discovers that the only way to deal with Orlando is to become the Dom he so obviously needs. But Orlando’s father wants him back, and The Wyverns must face a battle that could cost them their lives.


Oh my, this book is all action, tough men, very sexy times, and barely a moment to catch your breath; I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

Rogue Hellaby is all few words, tough exterior and a heart of gold. And when he takes control he’s all sorts of dominant and breathtaking. Orlando de la Pena is all attitude to cover up the little boy lost hiding beneath the façade. From the moment they first set eyes on each other in the BDSM club it is clear that they are both polar opposites and perfect for each other. But, wonderful scene notwithstanding, Orlando is less than impressed when his new found favourite Dom subsequently takes him hostage.

And that may be where I have my one and only my issue with this story. Orlando went from furious and outraged to okay with his situation and cooperating just a bit too quickly and too easily for me. It felt like he went from hating Rogue and the situation he finds himself to happy to stay where he is, in just a heartbeat, where I would have expected him to put up a bit more of a ‘fight’ if only for appearances sake.

Other than that, this novella was a thrilling and captivating read. There really isn’t a boring paragraph or sentence in this book. I can’t wait to read the sequels. I’ve got a feeling these men and their antics are going to continue to keep me spellbound.




A man without scars never had to fight for something he believed in.

A new relationship takes time and effort. A new relationship with Orlando de la Pena takes a whole lot more. As a Dom, Rogue knows what he wants, but Orlando refuses to fit neatly into the box labeled ‘submissive’. He’s feisty, demanding and far too pretty for his own good.

Orlando loves Rogue and he’s learning to love The Wyverns, but he hates being stuck out in the desert. Finding a niche in the world of bikes and fierce warriors is difficult, and Orlando’s impatience gets the better of him. He walks out into the desert and runs in to an antisocial diamondback.

Rogue has more than one problem to deal with. The Longhorns MC issues a challenge for territory. The Bellazi cartel is out for Wyvern blood. The Wyverns are under siege, and Rogue has to work out how to save not just Orlando, but all of them.

Reader Advisory: This books contains scenes of mild BDSM


Deathtrap more or less picks the story up where Mantrap ended. Orlando is still living with the Wyverns and submitting to Rogue, but it’s not without its complications. Orlando doesn’t really fit into to the MC mould and has also been confined to the compound since his safety in the outside world can’t be guaranteed. It’s hardly surprising Orlando is slowly going out of his brain from boredom. Rogue not picking up on exactly how restless Orlando is becoming is no surprise either, since he’s still up to his neck in problems with other gangs.

It all comes to a head when Orlando decides to go for a walk and runs into unexpected but no less lethal danger. With a gang from Texas challenging the Wyverns, Rogue suddenly finds himself facing a potentially deadly fight with a rival gang leader while worrying about the man he’s fallen for, hard.

This story is as fast and furious as the first instalment and the reader doesn’t really have a moment to come up for breath until they reach the end of the both sexy and endearing epilogue.

“You flame like the sun, Orlando. You’re a bright spark in my darkness. From the moment we met, we were as inevitable as this sunset and just as unstoppable.” – Rogue

While there have been hints before, this moment makes it perfectly clear that underneath the gruff and brutal exterior, Rogue really does have a heart of gold. So it’s hardly surprising when Orlando responds as follows:

“You can speak real pretty when you want to.”

These are such wonderful books. I love the banter between the The Wyvern men, the fast-paced stories and the enticing combination of suspense, emotion, and sexiness. I’m delighted that I have three more titles in this series waiting for me on my Kindle.




Sometimes the only way to spring a trap is to use live bait.

Teddy Austin has had more than his share of run-ins with local law enforcement. The Wyverns have a reputation to maintain, and Teddy feels it’s his duty to cause havoc whenever possible. Of course, getting arrested means time in the company of Sheriff Adrian Hayder—always a bonus—though Teddy would far prefer to have the sheriff wearing the cuffs.

When The Knights of War MC arrives in Phoenix, Trap orders The Wyverns to get inside information. In order to infiltrate the gang, Teddy must appear to betray his friends and switch his allegiance. Working undercover, however, he confirms what they have all suspected—The Knights of War are a cover for something much more sinister than a hell-raising bunch of bikers, and they fully intend to turn Phoenix into a battleground. 

With Sheriff Hayder getting far too close to the truth, Teddy is left with a few problems—how to stop a war, keep his balls intact and ensure the man he loves keeps breathing.


“What a pair we make. Both emotionally dysfunctional”

And that quote tells you pretty much everything you need to know about this book and about Teddy and Adrian. These two men are more than a match for each other, and more inclined to exchange insults than endearments, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t exactly what the other needs.

If I thought the earlier two books were testosterone filled, Rattrap takes that to a whole new level both in the bedroom and in the world at large. And the danger our men, and especially Teddy, have to deal with is even more horrific than what we encountered in Mantrap  and Deathtrap.

This whole story is one, long, adrenaline rush. The action, in one form or another, begins more or less on page one and doesn’t let up until the last paragraph. In between we are treated to extreme violence, grave danger, and brutal love; if that isn’t a recipe for a fascinating read I don’t know what is. While this book, unlike the first two, doesn’t deal with BDSM, there most definitely is some sort of dynamic between Teddy and Adrian, and to say it was hot, would be a gross understatement.

If you like your stories fast paced, sexually explicit and at times brutal, The Wyverns’ series should be right up your street.




Exposing secrets can be lethal.

Crow has had his eye on baby-faced Shelton since the young man became part of the Wyverns, but Crow is a committed Dom and unsure that Shelton is ready, or willing, to become his submissive. Getting trapped together during a dust storm provides an opportunity to find out.

When the dust settles, the winds have scoured the desert and uncovered a shallow grave full of bodies. Smuggling people across the border is big business and Crow knows that the traffickers will not want their gruesome secret revealed to the authorities.

When Shelton is taken and used as collateral, Crow and the Wyverns have to decide just how far they are prepared to go to serve justice and save Shelton’s life.


Crow and Shelton’s story has been building since the first book in The Wyverns’ series and to say I was ready for these two men to get together would be a gross understatement.

On the surface, Crow and Shelton are as different as it is possible for people to get. Tough, big and dominant Crow is the polar opposite to Shelton’s quiet, studious and submissive nature. But, as is so often the case, opposites attract and in this case, they also fit perfectly together. Shelton may not be sure whether or not he actually wants or is able to submit to Crow before they first get intimate; the experience erases all his doubts as he discovers he was made to follow Crow’s orders.

And then it all goes to hell when Shelton’s taken hostage. Poor Crow goes out of his mind, torn between worry and guilt while Shelton finds himself having to deal with terror and humiliation only to discover he is much braver than he would ever have given himself credit for.

As much as I loved reading about the previous pairings, I think Shelton and Crow are my favourites (so far?) and that may well be due to the fact that the build up to their coming together has been stretched out over the previous three books. Because if there’s one thing that’s never in doubt it is that these two men belong together.

As always, this stories provides the reader with an adrenaline filled adventure of sexiness, danger and violence; a thoroughly addictive combination. And I’m so happy that Sandtrap appears to be laying the foundations for Hatchet at last getting his (wicked?) way with Mr. Smith. I feel very lucky that I already have Steeltrap lined up as my next read.


Lucinda lives in a small village in the English countryside, surrounded by rolling hills, cows and sheep. She started writing to fill time between jobs and is now firmly and unashamedly addicted. 

She loves the English weather, especially the rain, and adores a thunderstorm. She loves good food, warm company and a crackling fire. She's fascinated by the psychology of relationships, especially between men, and her stories contain some subtle (and some not so subtle) leanings towards BDSM.

Social Media Links Blog/Website |  Facebook Author Page | Twitter



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