A Taste of Danger: A Subparheroes book by Morgan Brice

NEW RELEASE 

Book Title: A Taste of Danger: A Subparheroes book

Author: Morgan Brice

Publisher: Darkwind Press

Cover Artist: Dianne Thies

Release Date: September 5, 2024

Pairing: MM

Tense/POV: third person, past tense, alternating POV.

Genres: Romance, Mystery/suspense, Paranormal, Urban Fantasy

Tropes: Superhero with minor psychic abilities, odd superhero employment agency, craft brewer, secret agent, shifters, supernatural mobsters, fish out of water, small town

Themes: Learning to trust, balancing love and career

Heat Rating: 4 flames    

Length: 65 000 words

It is a standalone book and does end on a cliffhanger.

It’s part of a multi-author, shared world series Subparheroes, and it also connects to my Fox Hollow series. 

Goodreads

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

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An unlikely rookie superhero and a dog shifter beer enthusiast team up to stop a nefarious supernatural plot.

Blurb 

Food reviewer Scott Dixon didn’t just lose his job—he started getting premonitions linked to random tastes, a new ability he’s not sure how to manage. When an interview lands him a position using his visions to help people and stop criminals, Scott finds himself chasing bootleggers who create beverages specially formulated to control people with psychic abilities. The trail leads to upstate New York, where he meets a sexy craft brewer who takes his breath away, but might be more than he appears, testing Scott’s trust.

Craft brewer and Belgian Malinois shifter Gage Merrick never fit in with his law enforcement family. He loves beer and spent years developing brews designed to taste good to different types of shifters. When he meets Scott, sparks fly. But Gage’s passion for paranormally optimized beverages raises Scott’s suspicions, threatening their chance at happiness.

Will Gage be the love of Scott’s life, or will their affair leave a bitter aftertaste?

A Taste for Danger is a feel-good paranormal super-powered hero MM romance romp filled with secret agents, found family, good beer, quirky humor, sexy shifters, soulful psychics, and supernatural skullduggery!

This book is part of the multi-author MM Romance SubParHeroes series and is also linked to the Fox Hollow series.

Excerpt 

“Ninety-nine, one hundred,” Scott Dixon counted out loud as he checked two more failed job applications off his spreadsheet. He sighed and took a drink of his now cold coffee. “Maybe one hundred and one is the charm.”

Getting laid off from his job as a food reviewer for Taste of the Rainbow magazine, which specialized in reviewing LGBTQ-owned and friendly restaurants, was bad enough. Receiving the notice via text two weeks ago was doubly awful.

Dear Scott—

We regret to inform you that due to declining advertising revenue, your position as a full-time food reviewer has been cut. You are free to re-apply to submit work-for-hire articles on an ad hoc basis at our freelance rate. Your keycard and network access have been deactivated. The contents of your desk and cubicle will be boxed and mailed to you. If you had personal items elsewhere, please let us know, and we will include them in the box. Please do not return to the office as you will not be permitted to enter. We wish you well in your new endeavors.

Since Scott had been in charge of hiring freelancers, he knew how their rate compared to his salary. Even if I freelanced the whole damn magazine issue, it wouldn’t pay what I’ve been making. He muttered several extremely impolite descriptions of his former boss as he got up to refill his cup. “Text messaging toadie. ’Fraidy cat fucker. Anti-social asshole.”

To add insult to injury, his car needed repairs, putting a dent in his emergency stash. The unexpected expense of buying a new shirt and jacket for in-person interviews drained his funds further, even though he had found them at a consignment store.

Scott cut every subscription except his e-book and inventoried his cupboards and freezer for cheap meals so he could skip grocery shopping. Despite that, and even if he picked up some other freelance gigs to tide himself over, he couldn’t go more than a couple more weeks without a real job.

Scott didn’t want to sleep in his car or beg friends to let him couch surf, but that possibility loomed large unless something showed up real soon. He had less than thirty dollars in his wallet, and there wasn’t enough left on his credit card to pay rent.

A fast-food gig wouldn’t pay the rent, and it would eat up time I could use to job hunt. He hated the idea of pawning any of his gaming equipment—that was a last resort.

His phone rang, and he didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

“Scott Dixon? This is April from SPAM. We received your resume and are very impressed. I’m calling to offer you a full-time, salaried position with very generous health benefits and paid vacation. We’d like you to start immediately, and there’s a signing bonus to ease your relocation to Albany.” She named the salary and bonus. Scott nearly swooned at the amount, a hefty upgrade from his most recent salary.

“SPAM?” Scott’s mind whirled, trying to remember if he had sent a resume to Hormel. Even if he hadn’t, he had heard good things, and the offer had everything he needed. “Albany? I mean, yes, thank you. Sure. I just need to pack. Thank you.”

“How quickly can you come for orientation? We have a project we’d like you to head, and it needs someone to take over in a few weeks.”

“I can be in Albany in two days, just need to wrap up some things here in Rochester.” Scott was still reeling from the sudden reversal of fortune. “Can you please send me something in writing?” he remembered to ask, wary because he had heard about hiring scams.

“Of course,” April said. “I’ll have a confirmation letter out to you this afternoon. Congratulations, and welcome to SPAM.”

Scott stared at his phone for a few minutes after April hung up. I have a job—and a raise. I’m moving to Albany. Holy shit—I’ve got a job!

About the Author  

Morgan Brice is the romance pen name of bestselling author Gail Z. Martin. Morgan writes urban fantasy MM paranormal romance, with plenty of action, adventure and supernatural thrills to go with the happily ever after. Gail writes epic and urban fantasy, with less romance, more explosions.

All of the modern-day Morgan Brice and Gail Z. Martin series crossover, so characters from one series appear in cameos and on page in important secondary roles in books from other series. Each book can be read as a standalone, but the more you read the more the expanded universe of friendships and connections becomes clear. 

Morgan and Gail believe that paranormal elements make any story even better, and her worlds are full of ghosts, psychics, shifters, creatures, vampires, monster hunters, and magic. 

She's also a huge fan of the TV show Supernatural. (Chibi art by Kamidiox)

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Happy Holidays! The Charlie Barnes Experience, Volume 1 by C.R. Barnes

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Happy Holidays! The Charlie Barnes Experience, Volume 1

Author: C.R. Barnes

Publisher: Beach Book Press

Release Date: July 11, 2024

Genre: Humor/Satire with M/M romance

Tropes: Fake relationship, Lovers to enemies 

Themes: Irreverent Humor, Friendship, Loyalty, Moral Ambiguity, Writer’s Block

Heat Rating: 2 flames (the main characters do have sex a few times but there are no graphic descriptions)

Length: 54 000 words/167 pages

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

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Available anywhere books are sold, as well as digital library services.

How I Went from Failed Writer to Drug Mule, and Back, Without Really Trying

Blurb

After a shocking event on Halloween night, Charlie Barnes is back in the news for all the wrong reasons. On the bright side, he meets handsome cop Luke. Luke of the blue eyes, perfect nose, beautiful butt cheeks, and, unbeknownst to Charlie, ulterior motives.

Even bad publicity can be good for book sales, according to Charlie's publisher, who promptly moves up the deadline for his next book. A book he hasn't started due to a crushing case of writer's block. Or perhaps he's just lazy, it’s hard to tell with Charlie.

He's got a month to write his next book, decide if Luke is for real, and figure out what to do about the suitcase full of drugs he abandoned at the airport. The pressure is on and the ride is about to get bumpy.

Excerpt 

Lying on a beach, soaking in warm summer sun and cool ocean breezes. It’s heaven, until a wave rolls in and crashes on top of me. Next thing you know, I’m gasping for air and choking on my own bath water. Not dreaming anymore.

            Or am I? Is Detective-Too-Good-To-Be-True in my kitchen? Did he draw this bath, light these candles, and leave me in peace long enough for me to drown in my tub? A gentle knock on the door. He must have heard me doing the breaststroke. Before I say come in, he comes in. Not dreaming, not this part.

            “You doin’ okay in here?” He asks with such sweetness I feel guilty for thinking it’s too much. But it is. We’ll work on this later.

            “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Seeing how much water I can get on the floor before the tub falls through it.”

            “Might not sit well with the neighbor.”

            “He’s a bitch. Always complaining about how loud I walk. Fuck him.”

            I toss my hands in the air and give him my best ‘who gives damn’ face and end this part of the conversation with “If he wanted quiet, he should have bought the penthouse.”

            “Since when is the fifth floor of anything the penthouse?”

            Not sweet. This is better.

            “If it’s on the top, it’s the penthouse. Prove me wrong.”

            “I’d rather feed you.” He hands me a towel. He doesn’t leave. A dare.

            I take the dare. I stand up, hang the towel over a hook, and grab my shower handle thing, what is it called? Shower handle, maybe? Whatever it is, I spray myself down, sending water everywhere. He gets wet and starts laughing. As God is my witness, his buttons will be pushed. He can’t take everything in stride.

            When I step out of the tub the room spins. He grabs me by the shoulders and guides my butt onto the toilet, which, thankfully is closed and does not have a candle on it.

            “Sit still,” he commands.

            What? He takes the towel and starts drying me off. I know where this is going, at least for me. I have to stop this. I don’t want to stop this. But I have to. We can’t have sex, there’s lasagna to be eaten. Lasagna is better than sex. But if you’re going to have sex, having it before eating lasagna is better than after.

            We are not having sex. Not tonight. And when we do, I won’t talk about and I certainly won’t write about it. I might mention it, I might even brag, but there won’t be any details. This is neither porn nor erotica. Some things have to be private.

            “I can handle it from here.”

            Disappointment flashes across his face. It didn’t last long, but it was there. Good. He puts a hand on my cheek. His hand is warm, and soft, and big. He kisses me on my damp forehead and says “Then hurry up, I’m hungry.”

            Laughing hurts my ribs and makes me stop. Then he laughs at me, which makes me laugh again. It’s a hot mess of pain and happiness and arousal, and all sorts of other things running around inside my body and banging around my brain. Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes. This is the man for me.

            “Get out before you kill me.”

            He pulls the towel over my head and walks out, still laughing. Quick as I can, I get dry, get dressed, and meet him at the table. There’s a salad, the aforementioned lasagna, a bottle of wine, flowers, and candles. He must have gone shopping because none of this stuff came from my pantry. I’m not even sure I have a pantry. He pours the wine, lifts his glass, waits for me to lift mine and says, “Welcome home Charlie.”

            I pull my glass back “You said that already. Come up with something new.”

            “Geez, Charlie,” he pretends to be annoyed. He’s not annoyed. He’s challenged and he likes it.

            “Here’s to not dying in a Dorothy costume in the parking lot of a seasonally gay nightclub.”

            That’s more like it.

About the Author 

C.R. "Charlie" Barnes studied literature and journalism in college and went to work for a global news organization immediately after graduation. During his time there, the team won a pile of awards and Charlie was on his way to a low-paying, high-stress career in a business he didn’t love. He now spends his time writing fiction because the news was never good, and one thing Charlie likes is a good time. Or at least not a bad time. 

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Snow Angels in the Dust by Kristoffer Gair

NEW RELEASE

Book Title: Snow Angels in the Dust

Author and Publisher: Kristoffer Gair

Cover Artist: Kris Norris

Release Date: August 27, 2024

Genre: LGBT, Romance

Tropes: Quest, Fated Mates

Themes: Forgiveness, Fate, Asian culture

Heat Rating: One sex scene/ 4 out of 5 flames.

Length:  73 000 words/ 336 pages

It is its own self-contained story,

but features characters from Butterflies I Have Known, and Falling Awake III: Requiem. 

It does not end on a cliffhanger

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Barnes & Noble (Print Copies) 

As it should be. As it needs to be. As it was meant to be.

Blurb

“I have one more job for you.”

Milton Glass, an award-winning photojournalist, celebrated worldwide as one of the greatest documentarians of the twentieth century, has passed. However, he leaves an unfinished task for personal assistant Cristian Orr (Butterflies I Have Known): discover the fate of a soldier’s child who’d been born and abandoned during the Vietnam War.

Cristian hesitates to get involved until an even greater mystery presents itself in the form of a name uttered over thirty years earlier by a comatose man on the other side of the world.

A name no one there could possibly know.

In an unfamiliar country and completely out of his element, Cristian must uncover the life of a man born of two cultures, accepted by neither, and the man’s connection to the whispered name.

The answers draw Cristian into a personal journey unlike anything he’s experienced before, towards a fate two lifetimes in the making.

Excerpt 

Cristian powered up his laptop and plugged the thumb drive into the side of the machine. A single file folder contained a lone video file. He double-clicked on the icon.

Mr. Glass's face appeared on the screen.

“Hello, Cristian. I'm sorry I'm not there to discuss this with you in person. I'd hoped to be, only, as you may have guessed from our time together, things don't always go to plan. Still, I have no complaints. I lived a very full life, and you played a part in helping me right a wrong after seventy years of searching. I won't forget that, your kindness, or you.

“But there's another wrong out there, one I wasn't able to help right, and I believe you can. So, I have one more job for you. A veteran contacted me a couple of weeks ago. You'll find copies of his correspondences and my replies in the box Rebecca provided you, along with other documentation you’ll need. You’ll forgive me for presuming you’ll continue on with this, but I figure if you came this far, I’ve piqued your interest.

“The man who contacted me is one of perhaps tens of thousands who fought in Vietnam and fathered children there. Some of these servicemen died in the line of duty, got injured and sent home, or left and abandoned the women they were with, as well as the children born to them. Some of these families reunited—though most didn’t—and some hoped word would never reach home because of what an illegitimate child could mean for them and their families back here in the States, let alone an illegitimate Asian child. It was a different time, Cristian, and while that doesn't excuse anything, the circumstances do help with understanding the situation.

“Master Sergeant Dale L. Ricci wrote to me and asked for my help in finding out what happened to one such child—his child. Dale left before the birth of his son and, because he had a girlfriend waiting for him back home who he married shortly after returning, he never contacted his son or former girlfriend. The mother of his child, Hai Anh, tried many times to reach him based on what little information she had. Her letters went unanswered. Dale received them and made the choice not to reply.

“The letters stopped for a good many years, then the Army base where he'd been stationed reached out to him. Hai Anh desperately tried to get word to Dale. Their son, then twenty-two, had been severely beaten, was in and out of a coma, and might not live. She pleaded with Dale to come and at least see their son once with his own eyes in case he never woke up again. This happened thirty-two years ago.

“Dale never went, and this decision has haunted him ever since. He already felt guilty enough abandoning them, but to not go in what might have been a matter of life or death, especially knowing how the children of these GIs were treated? Still, he kept his silence. His wife recently passed, and he now wants to know what happened. He wants to know if his son’s life continued, or if it ended.

“Yes, it's guilt, but it’s also about mortality. Dale himself has recently been diagnosed with terminal cancer. He doesn't want to pass without knowing the truth, for better or worse. You once confided in me that your roommate taught you to speak Vietnamese during your college years, and you consider it your hidden talent. It need not remain hidden anymore.

“I chose you to work for me, Cristian, because your research and project management skills are second to none. You're discreet, you have great instincts, and aren't afraid to act on those instincts. I need your discretion and great instincts now. Not for Dale, though he will most assuredly benefit from your skills, but rather for you. There is a mystery here in what happened to his child, but an even greater mystery for you to solve, and one I feel you will recognize when you see it.”

Mr. Glass paused, then stared into the laptop’s camera as if Cristian truly sat in front of him and not a computer, and his former employer’s face softened. The hair on Cristian’s arms stood up.

“I wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't feel it important. You helped me, and even though I'm gone now, I want to help you. You know I believe some things are simply meant to be, and this is one of them. A thread from your life here is intertwined with lives over there…

“Take care of yourself, Cristian. I know you’re not fond of taking chances, but I’m asking you to take one now. Your future is out there waiting for you.”

The picture turned black as Mr. Glass clicked the button to end recording.

About the Author 

Kristoffer Gair grew up in Fraser, MI and is a graduate of Grand Valley State University.

He currently lives in a suburb of Detroit.

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Best Wrong Thing by Colette Davison

NEW RELEASE

Book Title: Best Wrong Thing

Author and Publisher: Colette Davison

Cover Artist: Covers by Jo

Release Date: August 23, 2024

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Forbidden romance, secret relationship, one-night stand to lovers, age-gap

Themes: Being true to yourself

Heat Rating:  3.5-4 flames   

Length: 56 000 words

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal link   |   Amazon US   |   Amazon UK  

How can something that feels so right be wrong?

Blurb

What do you do when your dad tells you he’s married the woman he had an affair with? Go out and get drunk.

At least, that’s my plan until the cute guy behind the bar chats me up. One thing leads to another, and we end up in bed together, only for me to discover he’s the last person on earth I should be fooling around with.

The problem? I can’t keep away, even though I know I should.

The more time I spend with Archer, the deeper I fall for him.

But when everyone around us will judge us for being together, can I be brave enough to admit he’s the best wrong thing to ever happen to me?

Best Wrong Thing is a one-night stand-to-lovers forbidden romance, with an age gap relationship, a strained holiday, and parents behaving badly.

Excerpt

“I guess your sorrows aren’t that bad,” Archer says once the rush dies.

“Why?”

He nods at my beer, which is three-quarters full. I’m doing a piss-poor job of getting drunk. “You haven’t drowned them yet.”

“Maybe I’m debating other ways to forget my woes.” Shut up.

He rests his forearms on the counter. “Oh?” 

I shake my head. “Forget I said anything.”

“What if I don’t want to forget you said anything?”

Is he flirting with me? Am I flirting with him?

“What if I want to help cheer you up?”

Oh, fuck. I lean forward. “How would you do that?”

He chuckles. “You tell me. Have a think and let me know. I need to serve a customer.” He walks backwards towards the waiting customer, gives me a wink, and turns to give the woman his undivided attention.

I fan myself. Would he be flirting with me if he cared I’m older than him?

As he serves customers with an easy smile and brisk conversation, I trace shapes in the condensation on the glass. I’m no longer interested in drinking myself into oblivion. Besides, by this point, my beer is probably so warm it’s unpalatable. 

“And here we are again.” He grabs a cloth and wipes the spotless counter.

I smile. “I haven’t moved. You’re the one who keeps coming and going.”

“Right? Work is such a bore.”

“You don’t enjoy it.”

“Oh, I love it. I get to meet lots of interesting people. Sometimes I even get to meet handsome men.”

My pulse spikes. 

He walks his fingers over the bar and taps it beside my resting hand. “You were going to think of ways I could help cheer you up tonight. Have you come up with anything?”

“We could get out of here when you finish work.” I’m really doing this. I’m hitting on a barman. And why not? He can always say no.

“For sex?”

His question is so casual my brain stutters.

“It’s a good distraction.” He grazes his fingers over mine.

“You want to have sex with me?” Smooth, Jacob. Smooth. It’s been a while since I’ve chatted up anyone. Hook-up apps get rid of the need for it.

His smile pops dimples in his cheeks. “Definitely.”

I undo the top button of my shirt. “Aren’t I—?”

“What?”

“Too old?”

He laughs. “How old are you?”

I open my mouth.

He holds his hand up, palm facing me. “Let me guess. Thirty-two?”

“Close.”

“Higher or lower?”

“Higher.”

“Not much higher. Thirty-four.”

I point my finger at the ceiling.

“Thirty-five?” He raises his brows.

“Yes.”

“That’s a good age. Thirty-five is mature and experienced. Men get better with age.”

My pulse races. “Like red wine?”

He hums. “Exactly like red wine.”

I tug my collar away from my neck. Has it got hot in here?

“I get off in an hour.”

“So early?”

“I’ve been on shift since midday when the bar opened. Do me a favour.”

“What?”

“Don’t finish your drinks. I don’t sleep with drunk guys.”

About the Author 

Colette’s personal love story began at university, where she met her future husband. An evening of flirting, in the shadow of Lancaster castle, eventually led to a fairytale wedding. She’s enjoying her own ‘happy ever after’ in the north of England with her husband, two beautiful children and her writing.

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Town Bronze Regency Box Set by Ellie Thomas

BOX SET RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Town Bronze Regency Box Set Trilogy

Author: Ellie Thomas

Publisher: JMS Books

Release Date: August 10, 2024

Genre: Historical Regency M/M Romance

Tropes: Hurt/comfort, Younger/older

Themes: Cross-dressing, Spanking, Coming of age, Society of men

Heat Rating: 3 flames    

Length: 66 677  words

It Is the complete trilogy in a box set and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

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This Regency box set comprises the three Town Bronze novellas by Ellie Thomas; Town Bronze, Pantaloons and Petticoats and Impeccable Credentials, with three young men, each unexpectedly finding love.

Blurb

All three novellas in Ellie Thomas’ Regency Town Bronze series are gathered together in this box set. A trio of young gentlemen, former university friends, Jasper, Barney and Julian, are set loose in Regency London to pursue carefree pleasure. Instead, they find unexpected romance and follow their individual paths to true love. Contains the stories: 

Town Bronze: In 1812, Jasper Goodhew departs from sleepy Somerset for his first London season, anticipating fun, frolics and drunken debauchery. But to his consternation, he finds that a spanking from the firm hand of a particular older man sets him ablaze.

Can Jasper and Sir Mortimer Cleverly overlook their unorthodox introduction to become friends? Or is Jasper unable to resist his deepest instincts?

Pantaloons and Petticoats: In the autumn of 1812, Barney Marshall is a carefree young man, able to afford every variety of entertainment in Regency London while remaining heart-whole and fancy-free. All that changes after a passionate encounter with Rose, who by day is Ross, a clerk at Coutts Bank. Can Barney persuade Rose to trust him? And might their connection blossom into love?

Impeccable Credentials: In the autumn of 1812, aristocrat Julian Buchanan faces a crisis. He must choose between the trappings of his privileged life or the man he loves. Will Julian submit to his father’s decree and marry to further the family name? Or can he find the strength to break free?

Excerpt

Excerpt from Town Bronze

The next part of Jasper’s evening passed in patchy coherence. The older gentlemen departed with dignity almost immediately after Jasper's inadvertent blunder. With his wine glass replenished more than once by a luscious attendant, Jasper almost forgot about the impact of that searing gaze.  

He was vaguely aware of some of his companions departing with young ladies. Others were content to remain, drink deep, and dandle a damsel on their laps. Minutes or hours progressed in a pleasant haze until Jasper reached the point where he had drunk himself sober. 

Relatively clear-headed and suddenly thirsty, Jasper rose on remarkably steady legs to fetch a glass of water from the drinks tray on the capacious sideboard.

This gave him a clear view of the entrance hallway. The vestibule was empty, apart from the three gentlemen earlier expelled from the drawing room by an excess of wit. 

The gentleman with the remarkable hair was shaking the hands of his companions with a few congenial words. In that instant of seeming sobriety, it was terribly important for Jasper to make amends. He couldn’t have fathomed if this was due to his basic good manners and general inoffensiveness when not as drunk as a wheelbarrow. Or perhaps he was prompted by the infinite unimaginable possibilities in those haunting eyes.

He entered the hall as the gentleman escorted his companions towards the exit. Jasper stood uncertainly in front of the central staircase, awaiting his opportunity. Once his companions had departed, the remaining gentleman approached a further another doorway off the hall.

“Excuse me,” Jasper said, belatedly adding, “Sir.”

The gentleman turned, raising an inquisitorial dark brow that made him no less forbidding. 

During Jasper’s formal education, he occasionally got into trouble. To be fair, these incidents occurred either from absent-mindedness or when he tagged along in the wake of more exuberant and imaginative students. Any resulting discipline, a removal of privileges or corporal punishment, was a matter of course and not taken personally. His sporadic visits to the principal’s study were desultory and instantly forgotten by the disciplinarian and the culprit. 

This charged confrontation was entirely different. Jasper was unnerved by the swooping feeling in his belly as he faced his unknown foe. The older man drew closer but remained silent, his face expressionless, that implacable glare holding a sense of threat and thrill.

“I think I was somewhat discourteous earlier, and I wanted to say I was sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. We were all getting rather carried away and had too much to drink. I know it was a bit much, and we were rather close to the mark concerning you and your friends. But I suppose you were young once too, eh?”

Jasper tried and failed to raise a placating smile. The gentleman didn’t move a muscle and stared at Jasper as though regarding a failed scientific experiment.

"I mean to say, I was a bit bosky, and I wasn’t thinking straight. Anyone with decent eyesight could tell that’s your natural hair. You’re nowhere near old enough to be wearing a wig. You’d have to be in your dotage. And you’re not. Naturally. No one would think you’re wearing a cauliflower of the wig variety, and it doesn’t remotely resemble an actual cauliflower. I don’t know why I said that. You have very nice hair.”

Jasper’s ramble stuttered to a stop. Without softening his expression, the gentleman said, “You were insolent.”

Jasper blinked. He suddenly grasped his opponent was slightly the taller and his lean build held latent strength. He felt paralysed, like a snake to its charmer, in thrall to the depths of that gaze.

“I think you deserve to be punished.”

Jasper gulped.

The gentleman’s voice was persuasive. “You’ve earned a good thrashing.”

In a husky tone Jasper didn’t recognise as his own, he said, “I’ll let you be the judge of that. I’ll do anything you require.”

That eyebrow rose again. A glint of humour lit those night-dark eyes.

“Anything?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.”

About the Author  

Ellie Thomas lives by the sea. She comes from a teaching background and goes for long seaside walks where she daydreams about history. She is a voracious reader, especially about anything historical. She mainly writes historical gay romance.

Ellie also writes historical erotic romance as L. E. Thomas.

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