self pub

Trust With a Chaser by Annabeth Albert (Rainbow Cove #1)

Trust With a Chaser by Annabeth Albert (Rainbow Cove #1)

Mason Hicks is from Rainbow Cove. Now he’s back and starting a restaurant business with his two best friends Adam and Logan. Rainbow Tavern is going to show everyone that just because his last name is Hicks doesn’t mean he’s a worthless person.

Nash Flint is the local sheriff and seems to have misplaced his memo on Mason being an adult, mature, and not at all like his family.

While Mason is out and proud, Nash is living in the closet. Nash not only puts the sins on Mason’s father on Mason, but he also bears his father’s words and beliefs on his own. Nash Flint is a very complicated man.

Through a series of town vandalism, Rainbow Tavern not excluded, Nash and Mason start to become close. Although the secrecy weighs them down. It isn’t until Mason is handed a far larger responsibility that decisions must be made and Nash is going to have to either step out of the closet or lose Mason forever.

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Posted by Christina in LBGT Review, LGBT Contemporary Romance, Reviews, 0 comments
Campus Life (CYOA #2) by TC Orton

Campus Life (CYOA #2) by TC Orton

This is a Choose Your Own Adventure story.

This is told in first person where you’re in the driver’s seat as Joe Smith. Joe is a below average college senior looking for some action since he just transferred schools.

Everyone experiences the same beginning and from there you, the reader, get to choose your own adventure. Slut it up, sow your wild oats, or look for something more meaningful. It’s all up to you. 😉

Just remember to have fun!

Purchase: https://amzn.to/2MClOz8


Posted by Christina in LBGT Review, LGBT Contemporary Romance, LGBT Erotica, Reviews, 0 comments
There’s No Tomorrow by Tanya Sands

There’s No Tomorrow by Tanya Sands

Dallas is the prodigal son. He left TX after a horrific event and now has returned. He’s ready to make a life a new there, join the motorcycle club his father once belonged to, and finally have family again.

Deidre is a single mother. Her life has been consumed by her daughter. She’s taken no time for herself and then she meets Dallas. First in the most unconventional way where he fills her dreams and then in real life. Where he quickly becomes a part of Deirdre and her daughter’s lives.

Together they make a mighty fine duo but Dallas can’t seem to keep his past out of his present and Deidre won’t let her daughter get hurt.

Purchase: https://amzn.to/2JL44zL


Posted by Christina in M/F Contemporary Romance, M/F Review, Reviews, 0 comments
Dom by Jason Collins

Dom by Jason Collins

Dom is a marketing executive on a business trip, just sitting at the hotel bar in this little town when he notices a young man across from him. Dom wants him, and Dom always gets what he wants.

Sean is a recent college grad celebrating his freedom from school and this conservative town where he’s hidden his sexuality. Soon he’ll be in NYC working for his dad’s business.

They share a night of passion and then go their own ways.

Then Dom meets his boss’s son and is asked to show him the ropes. The son? Sean. Neither has been able to forget the other and now they find themselves in a terrible predicament.

Is the Sean worth keeping? Dom’s job worth risking?

Or will love prevail?

Purchase: https://amzn.to/2kNCK98


Posted by Christina in LBGT Review, LGBT Contemporary Romance, Reviews, 0 comments
The California Dashwood by Lisa Henry Release Blitz

The California Dashwood by Lisa Henry Release Blitz

Title:  The California Dashwoods

Author: Lisa Henry

Publisher:  Self Published

Release Date: May 1, 2018

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 62 000

Genre: Romance

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Synopsis

Make a new future. Choose your true family. Know your own heart. When Elliott Dashwood’s father dies, leaving his family virtually penniless, it’s up to Elliott to do what he’s always done: be the responsible one. Now isn’t the right time for any added complications. So what the hell is he doing hooking up with Ned Ferrars? It’s just a fling, right? Elliott tries to put it behind him when the family makes a fresh start in California, and if he secretly hopes to hear from Ned again, nobody else needs to know. While his mom is slowly coming to terms with her grief, teenage Greta is more vulnerable than she’s letting on, and Marianne—romantic, reckless Marianne—seems determined to throw herself headfirst into a risky love affair. And when Elliott discovers the secret Ned’s been keeping, he realizes that Marianne isn’t the only one pinning her hopes on a fantasy. All the Dashwoods can tell you that feelings are messy and heartbreak hurts. But Elliott has to figure out if he can stop being the sensible one for once, and if he’s willing to risk his heart on his own romance. A modern retelling of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility.

Excerpt

Chapter 1 His father’s hand was weightless. Elliott held it gently, rubbing his thumb over the loose, wrinkled skin of his knuckles. His father’s fingers were thin and fragile now, and scrubbed clean. Elliott had never seen his father’s fingers without paint under his nails. “Elliott,” Henry Dashwood whispered, and Elliott lifted his blurry gaze. The smile on his father’s face was almost beatific, but that was probably down to the morphine. “I’m here,” he said, his throat aching. “John’s here too, Dad.” John Dashwood was seated on the other side of the bed, his hands folded in his lap. His jaw was clenched tight, and his gaze was fixed on some point just above Henry’s pillow. Henry lifted his free hand and held it out toward John. John looked startled for a moment, and then reached out and took it gently. “My boys,” Henry murmured. “My sons.” They sat for a long moment as Henry drifted off into a doze, only the sound of his heart monitor punctuating the silence. Elliott didn’t even realize Henry was awake again until he spoke. “John,” he said. “John, promise me that you’ll look after your brother and your sisters.” John seemed to recoil for a moment, and then he wet his lower lip with his tongue. “I will, Dad.” He met Elliott’s gaze and then looked down at their father again. “I promise.” “Is Abby coming?” Henry asked, his voice faint. “Mom’s on her way, Dad,” Elliott said. “She’s on her way with the girls.” Henry passed away before they arrived. *** Francesca Dashwood, John’s wife, arrived the day after Henry passed away. She organized the entire funeral, shoving Abby and her children aside as though Henry’s second marriage had been nothing more than a footnote in the Dashwood Family history. Norland Park was filled with a curious mix of mourners, well-wishers, and gawkers. Elliott, Abby, and Marianne suffered their attention, or lack thereof, with varying degrees of politeness. Greta, thirteen years old, locked herself in her bedroom and threatened to stab anyone who tried to drag her out again. Three days after the funeral, the Naked Blue Lady vanished from her place above the fireplace, and that was when Elliott knew for certain that Francesca had made her move. The Dashwood Family—always a capital F in Elliott’s mind, to distinguish it from the tiny offshoot that he considered actual family—had never forgiven Henry for running off with the help—Abby—and proceeding to prove their dire predictions wrong by living in wedded bliss with her for over twenty years before the cancer took him. Abby had never been interested in the Dashwood Family money. She’d signed the prenup the Family lawyers had asked her to. In exchange, the Family had allowed Henry to retain Norland Park and had provided him with a monthly allowance. Those, however, had only been guaranteed for as long as Henry lived. And now, staring at the blank space above the fireplace where the Naked Blue Lady had hung, Elliott knew that he and his mother and his sisters were next to go. “She’s evil,” Marianne announced. “She’s a horrible evil troll, and we should let Greta stab her.” “She’s not evil,” Elliott began, and caught Marianne’s look. “Okay, so maybe she’s a little bit evil, but she’s also John’s wife, so can we try and be civil, please? Also, why does every scenario that anyone in this family comes up with always involve Greta stabbing someone?” “Not every scenario,” Marianne said, her slight smile vanishing as she looked at the blank space above the fireplace. “Mom is going to be pissed.” Right on cue, the French doors flung wide open and Abby Dashwood swept through in one of her trademark kaftans. She stopped when she reached the fireplace, and pressed a hand over her heart. “That bitch! Where’s my painting?” Elliott exchanged a glance with Marianne, and together they stepped forward and put their arms around their mother. “I’m fine!” Abby shook them off. “It’s fine!” It clearly wasn’t fine. Their wonderful, vibrant mother had been badly shaken by their father’s death. She had never once allowed herself to believe that Henry wouldn’t go into remission. “You have to think positive,” she’d said a thousand times, and thought so positively herself that she had refused to even begin to entertain any thoughts to the contrary. “Positive thoughts are positive energy, and that’s what your father needs right now.” Elliott wasn’t certain she’d actually come to terms with the fact that he was gone. Even though they’d all sat in the front row at the funeral, the Family on the left side of the chapel, and Abby and her children on the right side, with poor John constantly darting between both factions like some frazzled emissary, silently begging Elliott to please prevent Abby or the girls from making a scene. “Mom,” Elliott said now. “Come upstairs.” “Yes,” Abby said, and lifted her chin. “Yes, let’s go upstairs and pack our bags! I’m not staying in this house a minute longer!” She raised her voice for the benefit of any eavesdroppers. “We’re clearly not welcome here!” Marianne met Elliott’s gaze. “Mom,” Elliott said, “we don’t have anywhere else to go. We can’t just leave.” “Oh, honey.” Abby smiled at him, her eyes shining with tears. She reached up and cradled his cheeks in her palms. “Of course we can! All we need is each other.” And somewhere to stay. And jobs. And money for college for Marianne and school for Greta. And health insurance. And a million other things that their father’s savings would barely begin to cover. But Elliott didn’t have the heart to say any of that. “We can’t go anywhere yet, Mom,” he said. “Not without a plan.” “Oh, honey,” Abby said again, her smile softening. “You worry too much.” Marianne twined her fingers through Abby’s and tugged her gently toward the stairs. “Come on, Mom. Let’s go and see if Greta’s stabbed anyone yet.” Elliott watched them leave, and then headed down the hallway toward his father’s study. Norland Park, outside of Provincetown, was the only home Elliott had ever known. It had seven bedrooms, a sunroom, and a large parlor that Henry had used as a studio. The house had been built in 1910 in the American Craftsman style, and purchased by the Dashwoods a little over a decade later when Alexander Dashwood made his first million in the burgeoning aeronautics industry. It had served as a summer house for the Family for generations. And now they clearly wanted it back. Henry Dashwood’s study was on the ground floor beside his studio. The hallway smelled of his oil paints. Tears pricked Elliott’s eyes, and he wiped them away before he opened the study door. John was sitting at Henry’s desk, flicking through paperwork. He looked up. “Elliott,” he said, his expression suddenly guarded. “Is everything okay?” “Mom’s pretty upset,” Elliott said. “The, um, the painting?” John had the decency to look abashed. “Francesca felt it was confronting.” A wave of grief rose up in Elliott. He could almost hear Henry’s voice. “Art is supposed to be confronting, Elliott. It’s supposed to make you uncomfortable! It’s supposed to challenge you, to shake you up, to make you feel!” Which were all good points, but Elliott still didn’t feel he could invite his friends over with the Naked Blue Lady hanging over the fireplace. She was very, very blue, and she was very, very naked. She was also his mom. Elliott had been twelve at the time, and not sure how to explain to his friends that yes, that was his mother sitting spread-legged on that chair, and yes, that was her vulva. “It meant a lot to them,” he said. John’s mouth pressed into a thin line. And yeah, the painting meant a lot to John too, didn’t it? It represented the moment Henry Dashwood had walked out of his life and away from all his responsibilities as a father and a husband to be with the college student he’d hired as John’s au pair for the summer. John wasn’t a bad guy, but he was never going to be able to put that betrayal aside. Elliott couldn’t blame him. Henry had been a wonderful father to Elliott and Marianne and Greta. They’d stolen that from John, in a way. “There’s a little over ten thousand dollars in Dad’s savings account,” John said at last. Elliott nodded. “It’s what he’d been putting aside, except there’s not even enough for Greta’s school fees, let alone Marianne’s college tuition.” From the moment Henry had been diagnosed, he’d saved what he could from his monthly payments from the Dashwood family trust, but in the end it had been too little, too late. In the end he’d gone so quickly, and there were funeral costs, and taxes, and bills for the alternative treatments they’d tried when it was clear the chemo wasn’t working—bills the insurance hadn’t covered. John sighed. “Elliott, I promised Dad I’d do what I could to help, but most of my assets are tied up in the corporation, or held in trust. I mean, the board isn’t going to . . .” He cleared his throat. Elliott nodded, his eyes stinging again. “I’ll see what I can do,” John said. “But Francesca wants the house.” Elliott nodded again, and slipped outside before John could see him crying. *** Greta’s bedroom overlooked the front entrance of Norland Park, and she’d taken to leaning out of her window like a particularly malevolent gargoyle and glaring at anyone who came or went. She was a pretty girl, usually, when she wasn’t plotting murder behind the curtain of her dark hair, but Elliott couldn’t blame her. “Oh my God,” she exclaimed. “There’s another car coming, Elliott! Another one!” Elliott couldn’t bring himself to care enough to climb off her bed and go and see. “It’s like Francesca can’t even wait until she kicks us out to start filling the place with her awful friends! These ones are driving an Audi.” She leaned further out the window. “Greta!” Elliott leapt off the bed and crossed to the window before she dived out of it. He wrapped an arm around her and looked down. The black Audi was parked close to the front entrance of the house, and the two young men climbing out were both wearing blazers, khakis, and boat shoes. “Oh, look! It’s the Brooks Brothers!” Greta exclaimed. Greta had no volume control. The young men looked up. Elliott and Greta pushed back from the window at the same time, and landed in a heap on the bedroom floor. Greta stared at Elliott wide-eyed, and he stared back. Then, for the first time in what felt like weeks, they both started to laugh. *** The Brooks Brothers, Elliott learned at dinner, were actually the Ferrars brothers. They were Francesca’s younger brothers, Ned and Robert, and they apparently did something in construction. By the looks of them, nothing at the dirty end of that business. The Ferrars family resemblance was clear. The brothers were both tall, blond, and good-looking in a way that had just as much to do with presentation as it did with genetics. Skincare lotions and hair products and designer clothing gave a glossy shine to the brothers’ otherwise ordinary exteriors. Elliott found himself glancing at Ned’s profile more than once during dinner. His nose was a little long for his face. His jaw was a little wonky. His ears stuck out a bit. Without that two-hundred-dollar haircut working for him, would he still be as handsome, or would the slightly awkward way he held himself be even more apparent? Elliott had never had a two-hundred-dollar haircut in his life. His father might have grown up obscenely wealthy, but his mother hadn’t. Two hundred dollars for a haircut when there was a perfectly good pair of scissors lying around? Not on Abby’s watch. Even now Elliott’s dark hair was tousled and unruly. When it was wet after a shower, it hung in tendrils in his eyes and down the back of his neck. When it was dry he rubbed some wax through it, stood it on end, and let it do whatever the hell it wanted for the rest of the day. And he was the most presentable of his side of the family. He’d heard Francesca telling Robert exactly that after the brothers had arrived, before conceding that he was also “the least objectionable.” Not exactly high praise, then. Elliott glanced at Ned again, and this time Ned caught his gaze and offered him a small smile. Elliott smiled back, a little embarrassed to have been seen looking, and stabbed a piece of carrot. Dinner with the Family was an ordeal. And Elliott meant that in the most ancient judicial sense. At this point he would rather choose ordeal by fire and walk over red-hot plowshares than endure another round of stilted conversation and barely concealed barbs. In addition to John and Francesca and the Ferrars brothers, Great Uncle Montgomery had been in residence since the funeral. He hadn’t done much except wander around Norland Park poking his cane into the wainscoting and announcing the presence of dry rot, then making grumbled threats to sue Abby for failing to keep the house maintained while she was a tenant. A tenant. Aunt Cynthia and her husband, Aldous, had also been staying since the funeral. Elliott couldn’t decide if they were better or worse than Montgomery. “Oh, such pretty children,” Aunt Cynthia had said the night she’d arrived. “They don’t look anything like Abby, do they?” Aldous had grunted. “That girl’s got metal through her nose.” Worse, probably. They were worse than Montgomery. Montgomery might complain about holes in the wainscoting, but at least he didn’t comment on the hole in Marianne’s nose. With the arrival of the Ferrars brothers, it didn’t take long for conversation at dinner to turn to the fact that they now had more guests than available guest rooms. “Well,” Francesca said, with a thin smile in Abby’s direction, “I’m sure that the children can share, can’t they?” Abby narrowed her gaze. “Excuse me?” “I think it’s only fair to offer guests a proper bedroom, isn’t it?” Francesca asked. Elliott met John’s gaze. John glanced away. “Invited guests, yes,” Abby said. “But I didn’t invite them.” She grimaced in the direction of Ned and Robert. “No offense.” They both mumbled something that sounded vaguely polite. “Well, I just thought that Marianne and Greta could share,” Francesca pressed on. “That would free up a room.” Abby drew a deep breath. “Excuse you. My daughters don’t have to—” “Ned and Robert can have my room,” Elliott said, to head Abby’s diatribe off at the pass. Francesca looked smug, John looked relieved, and Abby looked like she had a hell of a lot more to say on the subject. “It’s fine. I don’t mind.” Ned shot him a worried glance. “That’s really not necessary.” “I don’t mind,” Elliott repeated. In the awkward silence that settled over the dining room, Great Uncle Montgomery muttered about nonexistent mold spores, and Greta turned her steak knife over and over in her palm in a thoughtful manner that made Aunt Cynthia shuffle her chair a few inches further away. Happy families. *** Elliott trudged upstairs after dinner to grab some spare clothes and his laptop and phone. He dragged a duffel bag down from the back of his closet and shoved clothes into it. This was his room, but he had known since his father died that he wouldn’t be allowed to stay in it. The Family wanted them out of the house. It was a matter of when, not if. Elliott slid his laptop into his bag, then zipped it up and slung it over his shoulder. He stared down at his rumpled bed, but fuck it. If the Ferrars brothers wanted clean sheets, they could find them for themselves. Elliott crossed to the door and wrenched it open, surprising Ned Ferrars. He had a suitcase on wheels. “Sorry,” Elliott said, and stepped outside his room. “No, um, I’m sorry.” Ned pressed his lips together. A faint wrinkle appeared at the top of his nose, right between his drawn-together eyebrows. “For, um . . . for your loss, and for everything.” Elliott’s heart skipped a beat. He didn’t think a single person associated with the Family in any way had stooped to offer him their sympathies. At the funeral, everyone gave their condolences to John, as though Abby and her children, even in that moment, were interlopers with no claim on Henry Dashwood. He was our dad too. “Thanks,” he murmured, his throat aching. Ned nodded and wheeled his little suitcase into Elliott’s room. The door snicked shut behind him. *** Henry’s studio was largely undisturbed. It smelled of oil paints and turpentine. Stacks of unfinished canvases leaned against the walls. Elliott set his duffel bag down on the old paint-spattered couch his dad used to take his naps on every afternoon. It still smelled faintly of weed. He crossed to the wall and traced his shaking fingers down a canvas. The paint was laid on thick, in a choppy texture that read like Braille. He closed his eyes and could hear Henry’s voice. “This is art, my boy! Art! Nothing matters more in the world!” “Says the man living in a Cape Cod mansion!” Henry’s laughter had filled the room, and then he’d grown uncharacteristically solemn. “Alexander Dashwood used to fly kites, you know? He used to watch the birds, and fly kites. He wanted to soar. He had an artist’s soul as well, I think. What would he make of his descendants, hmm? Making their fortune by manufacturing military drones. All innovators become oppressors, given enough time.” Elliott smiled, his chest aching, and lifted his fingers away from the canvas. “Love you, Dad,” he whispered to the silent studio. “Miss you.”

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Meet the Author

Lisa likes to tell stories, mostly with hot guys and happily ever afters. Lisa lives in tropical North Queensland, Australia. She doesn’t know why, because she hates the heat, but she suspects she’s too lazy to move. She spends half her time slaving away as a government minion, and the other half plotting her escape. She attended university at sixteen, not because she was a child prodigy or anything, but because of a mix-up between international school systems early in life. She studied History and English, neither of them very thoroughly. She shares her house with too many cats, a green tree frog that swims in the toilet, and as many possums as can break in every night. This is not how she imagined life as a grown-up.

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Whisper by Tal Bauer

Whisper by Tal Bauer

*Warning* The use of the phrase “Towel Head” is used in this review to extenuate a feeling for one of characters. This represents a derogatory slur that has been put out there by the world and does NOT represent my feelings towards Arabs in any fashion.”

Kris Caldera worked in a forgotten office of the CIA. Then September 11, 2001 and now he’s become one of their most valuable assets; a young, Puerto Rican, gay man who never hid his true self from the white boy club aka CIA.

Once deployed overseas Kris meets David. At first he doesn’t understand David’s angle. Why is always around? So close? Almost protective? David has wall’s up that even Allah can’t see into let alone Kris. Until they start to crack, quake, and fall.

David and Kris travel all over the middle east in search of terrorists. To avenge those lives lost, create important allies, and try to not lose their lives while falling in love in the one place on earth that would kill them for it.

Eventually a plan is foiled and everything goes to hell quickly. Kris is the lone survivor of an attack and David is….gone.

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Posted by Christina in LBGT Review, LGBT Contemporary Romance, LGBT General Fiction, Reviews, 0 comments
Love by Number by DJ Jamison

Love by Number by DJ Jamison

Aiden is hobby obsessed when it comes to the statistics of baseball. Numbers are a constant and are one thing that never lets one down. He goes to as many games home and away as he can to watch in person and get the most accurate information.

Jesse is a laid back, go with the flow, sort of fellow. He goes to all the home games for the Kansas City Royals with his grandfather. He’s not obsessed with the game, but loves the together time with grandpa.

When Jesse accidentally hits Aiden’s car after a winning game leading the Royals to the world series Aiden is distraught. How’s he supposed to get to St. Louis to watch the first game of the World Series now? Jesse’s grandfather offer’s Aiden Jesse’s assistance.

With Aiden being so meticulous and everything timed out to the T and Jesse not so much the car ride to St. Louis turns out to be quite the adventure. They bond, create chemistry, and more.

When the numbers go south and Aiden doesn’t act like Jesse expects the two hit a road block and Aiden runs. Leaving Jesse alone.

Will the two be able to salvage what the built on the way to St. Louis? Or is the friendship ruined before it really had a chance to grow?

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Posted by Christina in LBGT Review, LGBT Contemporary Romance, Reviews, 0 comments
Ghost in the Mirror by Faith Gibson

Ghost in the Mirror by Faith Gibson

Samuel Dexter book #2.

Dex is starting to get the handle on being a medium with Cindy’s help. He’s getting things in order to get his P.I.’s license, and things are moving forward with Orlando, his boyfriend. Not smoothly, but forward.

Then their hometown is shaken by a series of killings. Orlando being a detective picks up the case. Dex and his partner pick up a missing person’s investigation that ends up having quite the similarities to Orlando’s case.

With Dex still being haunted from ghosts past, trying to communicate with ghosts present, and find this missing person, things at home are strained. Too many items might be in the air and Dex nor Orlando might be able to save them if/when they come crashing down.

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Posted by Christina in LBGT Paranormal, LBGT Review, LGBT Contemporary Romance, Reviews, 0 comments
Dane by Faith Gibson

Dane by Faith Gibson

Dane is part of the Stone Society which means he’s a gargoyle. Dane though is a half breed; only recently changed due to being around his mate Marley.

Dane is now the Chief-of-Police for New Atlanta, replacing Kaya who mated with Rafael, the King of the Stone Society. Dane waited to mate with Marley until after a threat from Rafael’s uncle was diminished. Only after one threat was taken out in Greece, a new battle at home begins. Home field advantage may make no difference in this fight.

Dane has to make the decision to put all the cards on table and let Marley decide. Marley too has secrets though. After everything is shared between them, no more hiding, will the fates allow them to hold onto their bond forever and always.

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Posted by Christina in M/F Contemporary Romance, M/F Paranormal, M/F Review, Reviews, 0 comments
Best Friend’s Father by Devon McCormack

Best Friend’s Father by Devon McCormack

Eric didn’t know he was a father until Ty was 16 and its just been a rocky road since. Now that Ty’s older Eric is trying but neither really knows what to do to bridge the gap. Eric lets Ty use his condo in Mexico for a vacation in which Ty takes his best friend Jesse.

Jesse is bisexual but has never spoken about his feelings towards men to anyone. Then he meets Ty’s father. The attraction between the two is immediate and fierce. Ty is oblivious and both Eric and Jesse must hide their attraction. Until Ty has to run back to the states for a work emergency leaving his dad and best friend alone to scratch an itch.

When the vacation bubble pops and life comes back to reality there’s more than Ty as an obstacle. Now Jesse and Eric have to decide if they want to continue forward, if it’s going to be worth the fight of their lives, or end things now.

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Posted by Christina in LBGT Review, LGBT Contemporary Romance, Reviews, 0 comments