A Touch of Maple by Amy Aislin

NEW RELEASE

Book Title: A Touch of Maple

Author and Publisher: Amy Aislin

Cover Artist: Morningstar Ashley Designs

Release Date: May 30, 2025

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

Genres: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Rival’s brother, small town, hockey, divided loyalties, found family 

Heat Rating:  2 flames

Length:  56 000 words

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliff-hanger.

Goodreads 

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited 

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

Audiobook also Available

Audible US  |  Audible UK

Direct store  |  Kobo 

Blurb

After being traded numerous times over the course of his pro hockey career, all Bellamy Jordan wants is a place where he belongs. Burlington, Vermont, home of the Vermont Trailblazers, his newest team, might just be that place. The bonus: he’s within spitting distance of the grandparents who raised him. The drawback: his long-time rival’s gorgeous brother—who he can’t get out of his mind—also lives nearby.

And he hates Bellamy on sight.

Jason Zervudachi is busy enough trying to diversify his family’s maple syrup farm while completing his master’s degree. Adding in an attractive complication like Bellamy? Hard pass. Even so, there’s something more behind Bellamy’s eyes that draws Jason in, but Bellamy is his brother’s rival. There’s a sibling rule against that, right? There must be.

Except Bellamy isn’t at all what Jason expects—and neither is the connection between them.

With the highest percentage of LGBTQIA+ residents in Vermont, Maplewood is a town where everyone belongs. And with festivals year-round, there’s always something fun happening! This multi-author, low-angst queer series features ten standalone romances—each set against the backdrop of a different festival. Come for the celebrations, stay for the happily-ever-afters!

Excerpt

Inhaling a slow breath, Jason rounded the table to face Bellamy. He held two half gallon jugs of maple syrup in the crook of one arm that Jason hadn’t noticed from the back. “Hi.”

Bellamy jolted, clearly off in his own world, and met his gaze. Confusion crossed his face as he shoved his hood back and looked around. “Where’d the lady go?”

“Sheila? She’s gone home for the evening. You get me.”

“But I was going to ask her how to get more of these.” Bellamy held up a bracelet made of green, white, and red beads.

“How many more?”

“Uh…” Bellamy picked two similar ones off the rack and said, “Twenty? No wait. Like, forty? No, twenty. Definitely twenty.”

What did he need twenty bracelets for? Christmas-themed ones no less. In March.

Jason rotated the rack. “These won’t do?”

“No, it has to be these colors.”

“Okay, well…” Jason scratched his cheek. Why was he finding it adorable that Bellamy wanted twenty beaded bracelets? “I can ask Sheila to get in touch with the maker tomorrow. Can’t guarantee they’ll have enough beads in those colors for another twenty bracelets, though.”

Bellamy shrugged. “It’s cool. I’ll start with these.”

“And the maple syrup?” Jason asked, leading Bellamy to the cash desk. “Are those for your grandparents? Guessing you didn’t drive an hour out of your way for something you can find easily enough in Burlington.”

“My grandparents,” Bellamy repeated tonelessly, avoiding Jason’s gaze. “Sure. Yup. This is for them. They love to buy local.”

“Most people do around these parts. Vermont’s philosophy might as well be buy local, shop small.”

“Hm. So what’s the deal with these bracelets?”

“They’re made by a local artisan,” Jason told him as he rang up Bellamy’s products. “Everything in here is.”

“Yeah?” A smile pulled those pouty lips upward. “Cool. Do you have any keychains with the Trailblazers’ logo? Little ones, like those maple syrup-shaped ones over there?”

“The ones you said were unimaginative?” Jason snapped, despite telling himself he didn’t care.

The smile fell off Bellamy’s face. “What?”

“The other day when you were here with your friend.” Jason scanned the second maple syrup jug and plopped it onto the counter with a loud thunk. “You said it was unimaginative. I heard you.”

“I didn’t…” Bellamy’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t mean… I just wanted to…” He trailed off, and his entire body seemed to wilt. “Never mind. What do I owe you?”

Well, fuck. Now Jason felt bad, and he couldn’t say why. “We used to have keychains in the shape of the Trailblazers’ jersey,” he found himself saying. Bellamy’s gaze flew to his, eyes wide with surprise. “We haven’t had any since the beginning of the hockey season, but I can get in touch with the artist. If she’s okay with me passing on her contact info, I can send it your way if you want to commission something.”

“Just give me her social media handle and I’ll look her up,” Bellamy said, his phone already in his hand.

“She’s not on social media. Here.” Jason flipped over one of the shop’s business cards and slid it across the counter along with a pen. “Give me your number.”

Bellamy began to scribble it down, then peered up at Jason a little mistrustfully. “You’re not going to sell it, are you?”

“Who would want it?” Jason quipped, gratified when Bellamy laughed.

No, not gratified. He was—oh, fuck it all.

Jason inspected the top half of Bellamy he could see—his bottom half was blocked by the counter—while Bellamy wasn’t looking. For a hockey player, he wasn’t overly big, though Jason supposed that wasn’t saying much. These days, there were a lot of smaller players.

Not that Bellamy was small, not in the usual sense. He was just leanly muscled rather than bulky.

His black winter coat was open over a plain blue sweater, a well-worn scarf dangled around his neck, and his hair flopped over one eye as he wrote his number on the back of the business card.

What was that on his scarf? Were those…?

“Here.” Bellamy slid the business card back toward Jason. “I appreciate it.”

“I like your scarf.”

Instant scowl. “Don’t be a dick.”

Jason blinked at the vehemence. “I’m…not? I like it. The little embroidered dragons are cute.”

It took a moment for Bellamy’s frown to reverse itself. When it did, a slight furrow remained between his eyebrows. “Thank you,” he said tentatively, like he was waiting for the punchline. “My grandma made it for me.”

About the Author 

Amy’s lived with her head in the clouds since she first picked up a book as a child, and being fluent in two languages means she’s read a lot of books! She first picked up a pen on a rainy day in fourth grade when her class had to stay inside for recess. Tales of treasure hunts with her classmates eventually morphed into love stories between men, and she’s been writing ever since. She writes evenings and weekends—or whenever she isn’t at her full-time day job saving the planet at Canada’s largest environmental non-profit.

An unapologetic introvert, Amy reads too much and socializes too little, with no regrets. She loves connecting with readers. Join her Facebook Group to stay up-to-date on upcoming releases and for access to early teasers, find her on Instagram, or sign up for her infrequent newsletter.

Social Media Links

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Newsletter Sign-up  |  Facebook Group 

Giveaway 

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The Way Alex Sees Me by Dann Hazel

NEW RELEASE

Book Title: The Way Alex Sees Me:

Book Two in the Aphrodite in Disguise Gay Romance Series

Author: Dann Hazel

Publisher: The Original Press

Cover Artist: Josh Fippen 

Release Date: May 27, 2025

Tense/POV: Past tense (except for Chapter One), first person POV

Genres: Dark MM Romance, Historical, Paranormal

Tropes: Love and loss, like father like son, young gay love, identity and self-discovery, second chance

Themes: Coming out, forgiveness, gay empowerment

Heat Rating: 3 flames  

Length:  94 600 words/332 pages

It is part of a series, but can easily be read as a standalone.

It does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US   |  Amazon UK

Running away from those we love is seldom a good idea. Still, it’s what we often do.

Blurb

High school senior Rusty Finch is in a pickle.

His grades are plummeting even though everyone says he’s got a good head on his shoulders. He and his mother Gloria are not getting along. Neither of them knows why.

He’s convinced that his mom lied to him when she said his father died when he was two. But if her story is true, why can’t she show him his father’s grave?

And now, to top it all off, he’s pretty sure he’s gay. But Bill, campus jerk and all-around bully, is absolutely certain on that point. He takes perverse pleasure in tormenting Rusty on a daily basis.

What’s a confused and impetuous boy to do?

Destroy the enemy, of course!

But for Rusty, an unintentional detour from a lonely road and into a ditch thwarts that ill-fated plan. Rusty finds himself in the hospital.

A stranger appears at his bedside. “Rusty? I’m your father.”

With those four words, his life begins to come into focus...

…only to get really blurry again when Frank comes along and sparks feelings that Rusty's not equipped to handle.

If you like your gay romance spiced with a touch of suspense and plenty of youthful angst, you’ll love The Way Alex Sees Me.

This novel, the second book in the Aphrodite in Disguise series, is a Dark Gay Romance with elements of recent history, the supernatural, young love, family strife, and dark hidden secrets. Though embedded in the not-so-distant past, this novel speaks to timeless experience.

Excerpt 

I nodded, but kept silent. How could I tell Frank anything? The more of my father's story I discovered, the more complicated it became. Even Frank might balk at the complex nuances. Or, worse, he might milk the story for everything it was worth, just for its theatrical qualities, demeaning their importance to me.

"Well, my little stud muffins, here are your drinks—one with fortification and one—ahem—virgin." He stood tall above us after placing our drinks on the table. "What else can I get for you?"

"I think we're good for right now." I glanced at him and smiled. "Thanks."

He leaned toward us confidentially. "Look, boys. Since you're new in town, I want to give you a heads-up about some trouble we've been having. Lately, a few dickheads have been getting their jollies by harassing our customers. We keep reporting them to the cops, but these boys are smart and quick. Besides, I'm not sure we're high on the police force's list of priorities. I'm telling you this because you need to watch your cute little asses when you leave. Couples really set their panties on fire. Just last month, they beat two of our customers with a chain. Then, while the lankier one was getting his ass beat, his partner pulled a gun on the assailants, and off they ran, like the pussies they are. Still, boys, they'll hurt you bad, if you're not prepared."

"Thanks for the warning," Frank said. "We'll be careful."

Then, our waiter whirled away to retrieve a round of drinks for another table.

Frank grabbed my arm. "Okay, buddy. Tell me. What the hell is going on?"

I bristled. "What are you talking about?"

"You think I'm blind? Fuck that. I can see just how preoccupied you are. What's the deal with that table over there?" Frank glanced toward the restroom. "Besides, I saw the guy who was with your father at the fair. It's Ben, right?"

I jerked my arm from Frank's grasp, not fully understanding why he upset me so. "Just drop it, Frank. It doesn't matter."

Frank rested his arms on the table. "Like hell it doesn't. I've been watching you, Rusty. You're as preoccupied as a horny bitch in a dog show. What really happened between you and your father tonight?"

I scowled. "Jesus, Frank. Everything that happens in the world is not high drama."

"Are you sure about that?" I could tell from his voice how determined he was to get me to talk. "Something's going on with you, and I want to know about it." Frank took a sip from his cocktail. Now, I'd begun to wish I'd ordered one. "You might as well tell me, Rusty. You know damn well I'm not giving up until you do. We can't be real friends if we don't help each other out."

I turned my head toward the dance floor, where two middle-aged men, their arms wrapped tightly around one another, swayed gently to a slow tune. One whispered something in the other's ear. Both men laughed softly. Theirs was a romance I envied.

"Does it have anything to do with the fight with your father?"

Pressure mounted inside my heart and head, even as my stomach churned. Frank was not going to give up. Not tonight. Not with the vodka on board.

"Tell me, damn it! Don't keep secrets from your best friend."

"Okay!" I shouted. Several startled men looked our way. Embarrassed, I lowered my voice. "The man you mentioned. Ben. Remember? He and those other guys were talking about Dad. Apparently, Ben wants more from my father than he seems willing to give."

Confused, Frank stared at me, obviously confused. "What do you mean? More from your father. Why the fuck would Ben be interested in a straight man?"

I looked steadily into Frank's face. "Who said he was straight?"

For an unusual moment, Frank was both stunned—and speechless. "No way! Really? Your old man is gay? I mean, Rusty, really. That is so fucking awesome."

About the Author 

As a Florida-based author of both fiction and nonfiction, Dann worked as an educator on both the secondary and post-secondary levels. But since high school, when he served as a reporter for the school newspaper, he’s always had a passion for both reading and writing. Dann lives in Lake Wales, FL, with his husband, Josh (also a writer) and their adorable Eskie (American Eskimo), Flurry. She's definitely part of the family, with boundless energy and appetite! Dann is passionate about scenic walks and jogs around a local lake, enjoying Walt Disney World, staying healthy, reading, streaming movies and provocative TV series (especially those based on novels!) and current events. His pronouns are he/him/his.

Social Media Links

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Giveaway

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The 39 Steps: A Contemporary Reimagining by LM Somerton

NEW RELEASE

Book Title: The 39 Steps: A Contemporary Reimagining

Author: L M Somerton

Publisher: Totally Entwined

Cover Artist: Claire Siemaszkiewicz

Release Date: May 20, 2025

Tense/POV: third person, present tense

Genres: Contemporary MM Romance, Mystery/Suspense/Thriller

Tropes: Peril, self-sacrifice, accidental hero 

Themes: Saving the world

Heat Rating:  4 flames     

Length: 50 955 words

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

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

First for Romance   |  Pride Publishing

Uncover the conspiracy, outrun the enemy, and trust no one—survival is the ultimate test.

Blurb

Oberon Wycherley never thought his dull London life could take a deadly turn—until a frantic neighbour, American journalist Art Carew, claims to have uncovered an international conspiracy. A Greek industrialist is marked for assassination by a shadowy cabal called the Black Stone and that's only the beginning.

When Carew is found dead in his flat, Oberon finds himself the prime suspect—and the only one who can stop the plot. Fleeing to the rugged Scottish Highlands, Oberon must decipher Carew’s cryptic notebook while dodging assassins and evading the police. Along the way, he forms an unlikely partnership with the enigmatic Syd Whatten, a man whose charm is matched only by his secrets.

As the Black Stone’s sinister plan accelerates, Oberon and Syd race against time to unmask the conspirators. From explosive escapes to a high-stakes standoff on a storm-battered coastline, every step brings them closer to the truth—and deeper into danger.

Will they foil the plot in time? Or will Oberon become another casualty of a deadly game?

A gripping blend of espionage, danger, and unexpected alliances, The 39 Steps will leave you breathless to the last page.

Excerpt 

“I’m gonna go sit in the corner and browse my phone like a normal human.” Oberon paid for his drinks and the wine he’d be taking home with him then took his glass and snagged a table in the corner next to the window. His job meant keeping an eye on the news so he could justify a bit of doom-scrolling as work. The media sites were full of the usual rubbish about the royals, D-list celebrities and the cost of living. Oberon browsed anything he could find that was remotely related to mining and mining companies. There was a particularly interesting piece about deep seabed mining for polymetallic nodules. Potato-sized lumps containing copper, cobalt, nickel and manganese…hmm, all crucial to battery manufacture. The mention of potato was enough to make his stomach rumble. He took his glass back to the bar, said goodbye to Marley, who handed him a bag containing his bottles of wine, then headed for home.

The rain had stopped, leaving a fine, clear evening. Everything smelled freshly washed. As Oberon walked back to his flat near Portland Place, the crowds surged around him, busy and chattering, snapping pictures of anything and everything. He envied their easy-going camaraderie and excitement even if he didn’t understand the attraction of countless selfies. The shop assistants, office workers in sharp suits, street cleaners and buskers all had things to do and places to be. He gave a few pound coins to a homeless guy hunched in a tatty sleeping bag in a closed-down shop doorway because he saw him yawn; he was a fellow-sufferer. At Oxford Circus, Oberon looked up at the sky and made a vow. I’ll give this place another week and if nothing exciting happens, I’ll stick a pin in a map and buy a one-way flight.

His short-term home was on the first floor of a newish block behind Langham Place. He was flat-sitting for a friend who’d taken a six-month engineering contract in Brazil and the rent he was charging Oberon was peanuts compared to the going rate in the area. The building was upmarket enough to merit a security desk in the entrance hall, along with mailboxes and a well-maintained noticeboard. The lobby smelled of lemons.

His friend had a cleaner who came in three times a week and though Oberon didn’t make enough mess to justify it, he didn’t want to take the woman’s income. Magdalena traded light duties for baking, leaving him Polish sweets and pastries that did nothing for his waistline. There was a lift, which Oberon rejected in favour of the stairs, thinking of those pastries.

He was fitting his key into the lock when another man made his way up the stairs. He moved quietly and his sudden appearance made Oberon start. He was slim, with a short reddish-brown beard, orange-streaked hair and washed-out grey eyes. He was half a head shorter than Oberon’s six feet one.

“You’re my upstairs neighbour, aren’t you?” Oberon recognised him as the occupant of a flat on the next floor. They’d exchanged hellos once or twice in passing but nothing more.

“I am, Mr. Wycherley. I’ve been hanging around waiting for you,” the man said. “Can I come in for a minute?” He seemed to be making an effort to steady his voice, and he reached for Oberon’s arm but didn’t touch him. “My name is Art Carew. I won’t take up much of your time.”

Oberon didn’t feel he could refuse. He got his door open and motioned Art in. No sooner was Art over the threshold than he made a dash for the kitchen, where he peered out of the window before coming back.

“Is the door locked?” he asked, not waiting for a response before fastening the security chain in place himself. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m taking advantage, but you look like the kind of man who might understand. I’m in trouble and I need a favour. It won’t cost you anything.”

Oberon debated throwing him out there and then but he was bored and the man was intriguing, if a bit odd. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll listen. Can I get you a drink?” He looks like he needs one.

“That would be kind and very welcome.”

There was a tray of decanters and glasses on a table next to the couch. Oberon poured his visitor a generous neat whisky. Art downed it in one. “Another?”

“Thank you but no. I should keep a clear head, but that one helped steady the nerves.”

“My landlord appreciates a single malt. Take a seat. I’ll just be a minute.” Oberon carried his wine through to the kitchen then took off his jacket before returning to the living room. “So, tell me what’s going on.”

“Yeah, I should, shouldn’t I?” Art said. “I’m a bit shaken up and not thinking straight. You see, I’m dead.”

About the Author 

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

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Charmed by Destiny (Arcane Havoc, Book 2) by Jessamyn Kingley

NEW RELEASE

Book Title: Charmed by Destiny (Arcane Havoc, Book 2)

Author and Publisher: Jessamyn Kingley

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations

Release Date: May 15, 2025

Genre: MM Fantasy/Paranormal Romance

Trope: Fated mates

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length:  87 435 words

It is not a standalone story, but does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads 

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US   |  Amazon UK

Neither Richard nor Lucas want a relationship despite their attraction, 

but destiny already has them in her sights.

Blurb

Richard Marwood has no interest in relationships. After a few awful brushes with intimacy, he refuses to try again. Sex is required for a necromancer to find their soulmate, but Richard doesn’t care. He won’t be disappointed by one more handsome creep. 

In the ten years since Lucas Wynnter was summoned from the dead as an inspirit, he has aided his necromancer. Together, they have traveled across the country and stayed in countless rundown motels. But they are out of money. Lucas’s summoner learns that the Marwoods assist abandoned inspirits, and he convinces Lucas to apply for a job.

Although Lucas doesn’t want to be discarded, he does want to help. He shows up at a Marwood casino and, on his first day, meets Richard. Lucas is attracted to Richard, but he works for him. Plus, Lucas won’t be staying. He is building his savings and plans to reunite with his necromancer.

Richard shouldn’t be fascinated by Lucas, but he can’t stop thinking about him. For months they ignore the electricity arcing between them—until Richard’s cousin dares him to take another chance. Should Richard risk humiliation and ask Lucas to spend the night with him? 

Lucas is charmed by the awkward invitation, but neither man is prepared for destiny to intervene. Once their souls touch, nothing in their lives will ever be the same.

Excerpt 

Richard straightened, and with his pulse pounding in his ears, he headed for Lucas. 

Am I really doing this?

Richard swallowed thickly as Lucas turned and smiled at him. How embarrassing would it be if Lucas told him no?

“Hey,” Richard said in an attempt at casualness when he was a few feet from Lucas.

“Hey, are you okay?” Lucas asked, his eyebrows furrowing with concern.

“Yeah, why?”

“I don’t know, your eyes look a little wild and your face is flushed.”

“Oh, how weird,” Richard managed and tried not to wince at how his voice cracked on the words. “So, I…um, well, I had a question.”

Richard had never propositioned anyone, and he was apparently abysmal at it. Lucas’s expression was a mixture of concern and bemusement. The stupid card was still in Richard’s hand, and he wasn’t sure if he should give it to Lucas or run for his life.

“What do you need help with?”

“I don’t need help. Okay, maybe that’s not correct. It’s sort of helping, but more like a team thing. I don’t know how to explain it without making it creepy, really. At least not without everyone around us figuring it out, and I’d like to keep things private.”

“Okay,” Lucas replied slowly.

Richard’s face was on fire, but he’d made it this far. He wasn’t being smooth, and it was definitely awkward. Score two points for my lack of game, he mused distractedly. 

“I have a card. Um. It’s to my room. Here at the hotel. I was thinking maybe you could use it. I can’t leave yet, but I could meet you up there later.”

“Meet you later? I don’t understand.”

Humiliation filled Richard, and he shook his head. “Sorry, I should go.”

He turned on his heel, and his jaw flexed. But before he could take a step, Lucas said his name.

“Richard, please don’t leave.”

Forcing himself to face Lucas, Richard looked up at the inspirit. “It’s okay, I was asking you to do something highly inappropriate for two coworkers anyway.”

Lucas’s mouth dropped open, and his eyes widened painfully. To Richard’s shock, he tugged the key from the necromancer’s fingers and quickly pocketed it. “No, I’m a fucking idiot. How the hell didn’t I figure out what you were…anyway, yeah. I’d love to meet you later.”

Richard grinned like a fool, and Lucas returned his smile. His dimple deepened, and Richard nearly swooned. It was either because of Lucas’s attractiveness—which was growing with every second—or the adrenalize zipping through Richard at lightning speed.

“Okay. I guess I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah, I can leave like whenever, right?”

“Sure. I have to do some family stuff or whatever, but um, yeah, whatever. It shouldn’t be too messy. You could watch TV. Maybe play on your phone. There’s a bathroom. Well, of course there’s a fucking bathroom. I’m babbling, so I’m gonna go.”

Lucas winked. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Richard replied. He raced away from the inspirit as if his ass were on fire. Now he had to figure out how to calm down enough to have a normal conversation so no one was clued in to the fact that he’d invited a sexy inspirit to his hotel room. And survive whatever awaited him with Lucas upstairs later. Richard didn’t know if he’d made a smart decision, but it was far from his normal controlled evenings at home.

Would he survive his recklessness with his heart and dignity intact?

About the Author

Jessamyn Kingley has published over forty titles and refuses to pick a favorite among them. With an extraordinary passion for her characters, Jessamyn eagerly crafts new tales and avidly re-reads them whenever her schedule allows. Jessamyn shares a home in Nevada with her husband and their three spoiled cats. When she is not writing or adding new ideas to her thick stack of beloved notebooks, she is gaming with family and friends.

Visit her website 

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The Party Plot by Emily Spady

COMING SOON - PRE-ORDER NOW!

Book Title: The Party Plot

Author and Publisher: Emily Spady

Cover Artist: Morganically_Sourced

Release Date: May 7, 2025

Tense/POV: third person past tense, alternating POV

Genres: Contemporary MM Romance

Tropes: Enemies-to-lovers, small town romance, forced proximity, second chance, no third-act breakup

Themes: Self-acceptance, friendship, party planning

Heat Rating: 3-4 flames

Length: 75 569 words/323 pages

It is a standalone story, but takes place in the same universe as my other books. 

It does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links - Available for Pre-Order

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

A chaotic good boy and a sexy con man clash in this m/m romantic comedy about small-town drama, Southern manners, and being true to oneself. 

Blurb

When Laurel Van Marcke comes home for the summer, he’s immediately thrown back into all the scandals, grudges, and petty gossip he wanted to avoid. But he was expecting that. What he wasn’t expecting was Casey Bright, his mom’s new party planner, who also happens to be the mystery man he spent an unforgettable night with three months ago. But something about Casey, and the whole situation, seems off, and Laurel needs this party to go off without a hitch.

Casey has his own agenda for the upcoming Halloween ball, one that doesn’t include Laurel.  He wants nothing to do with the spoiled little rich boy, and definitely doesn’t want to get entangled with him again. But Laurel is persistent, and soon, he’s involved himself not only in the party planning, but in all the most intimate aspects of Casey’s life. And Casey absolutely despises him for it… right?

One thing is for sure, the first annual Halloween Ball will be the event of the year—one way or another. 

The Party Plot is an m/m enemies-to-lovers romance featuring elaborate schemes, a few raccoons, several cheesy Halloween props, and a HEA. 

Excerpt 

They were passing the Belmont Hotel now, and Mr. Petrowski was telling them about its resident ghost, a phantom dog that would press up against the legs of people it liked. Pretty adorable as far as hauntings went. Laurel tried again to get Casey’s attention.

“Do you like dogs, Casey?”

  Casey shrugged, an irritated frown on his face. “They’re fine, I guess.”

“Wow, what an enthusiastic endorsement. Not exactly what a dog lover would say.”

“My grandmother had birds when I was a kid.”

“Birds?” Laurel hadn’t been expecting that. He sat up, curious about what else Casey might reveal.

“Parakeets. And love birds. They were—” Laurel might have been mistaken, but his face seemed to soften for a moment. Then the frown was back. “Loud. They were really loud.”

“God. I don’t know how I feel about you being a bird person.”

“Says the guy who gives off big Horse Girl Energy.” Casey crossed his arms. “And it was my grandma, not me. I just had to put up with them. Like I’m having to put up with you. Why are you so obsessed with me, anyway?”

Because it was hard not to be. Because Casey had been starring in his dreams for the last three months, had been a constant in the back of his mind. Every shock of bleach-blond hair he’d seen across the room, in clubs, in airport lounges, had made his stomach drop and his skin feel hot all over. Every time he put on a tie, he could feel it wrapped around his wrists, could close his eyes and inhale Casey’s scent, the salty, intimate scent of his skin beneath the cologne.

Laurel swallowed, feeling desperate and pathetic, feeling like a dog ghost plastering itself to Casey’s leg. “I just want to get to know you.”

“Well, I don’t.” Casey looked at him for a long moment. Outside were the footsteps of the horse, slow and deliberate. The sounds of the city waking up. Mr. Petrowski was telling another story, but all Laurel could hear was static, his heart pounding, his tongue heavy in his mouth. Casey held his gaze as he slid across the seat toward him, and then his hand was on Laurel’s thigh, his breath against Laurel’s ear, and Laurel barely kept himself from gasping. His skin was on fire, his scalp tingling and his dick stirring to life as Casey whispered, “I already know everything I want to know about you, Laurel Van Marcke. I know that you’re spoiled, and useless, and not as smart as you think you are. I know that you’re used to getting what you want. But this time, you’re not going to, because it’s run its course. I’m not interested. And when this party is over, I’m looking forward to never having to think of you again.”

“Ouch,” Laurel said, not sure why excitement was bubbling in his chest, not sure why—God—he was still hard. Somehow his hand had found its way onto Casey’s collar, and he could smell the coffee on him, feel the quickness of his breath.

“Are we clear?” Casey asked.

“Sure.” Laurel struggled out. “So clear. Crystal.” Casey’s lips were so close, and he knew how he would taste. Bitter, then sweet and familiar. 

“Good,” said Casey, and moved away, going back to looking out the window.

Laurel’s ears were ringing, moths fluttering in his stomach, his thigh throbbing where Casey’s hand had been. So this was it, then. Casey wasn’t interested in playing nice; he’d said it himself. If there was no hope of being friends (or more, so much more), then there was no reason not to go scorched earth. Figure out what he was hiding once and for all. Laurel cleared his throat. He could still feel the roughness of Casey’s collar between his fingers. “I actually am very smart, you know. Despite evidence to the contrary.”

“Could you stop talking?” Casey pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Ooh, I’m not good at that. Not good at stopping in general.” He felt a smile sliding across his face.

“You’re going to have to be.”

“We’ll see,” Laurel said, tapping his fingers on the seat. “We’ll see.”

About the Author 

When she is not writing, Emily Spady likes to paint, hike, and, of course, read books. This is her third full-length novel. She lives in the Pacific Northwest of the United States with her husband and cat.

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