Cover Reveal: New Lease of Life by Lillian Francis

Hi, Lillian Francis here, and I’ve popped in to show off my amazing cover for my novel, New Lease of Life, coming soon from Dreamspinner Press.

But first the Blurb.

Phillip used to laugh a lot, back when his friends called him Pip. However the good deed that left him hospitalized not only marred his body, it stripped him of his good humor too. Ever since, he has pushed his friends away and shut out the world. Donating his vintage clothing to a charity shop should have been the final act in a year-long campaign to sever the links with the man Pip used to be, but the stranger on his doorstep awakens feelings in Pip that he hasn’t experienced since the incident that left him angry at the world and reliant on the cold metal of the hideous hospital-issue crutch.

Colby forces his way into Pip’s life, picking at the scab of his past. Colby isn’t interested in Pip’s money or his expensive address. He has only one goal: to make Pip smile again. With every moment in Pip’s presence, Colby chips away at the walls Pip has built around himself. Pip knows it’s impossible to fight his attraction with Colby’s sunny disposition casting light into the darkness in his soul.

Drum roll please.

Presenting

Cover art by Paul Richmond.

 Cover NewLeaseofLife4

It’s smashing, isn’t it, and fits both the story and my vision for the cover to perfection.

New Lease of Life is now appearing on the Coming Soon page at Dreamspinner Press and is already available to pre-order. If you are quick you may be able to pick it up in the current 35% off sale.

Or appearing on my author pages at

Amazon US

Amazon UK

AllRomance

Now the boring bit…

About the Author

Lillian Francis. Author of gay romance. Happy Endings guaranteed. Eventually.

Lillian Francis is an English writer who likes to dabble in many genres but always seems to return to the here and now.

Her name may imply a grand dame in pink chiffon and lace, but Lillian is more at home in jeans, Converse, and the sort of T-shirts that often need explaining to the populous at large but will get a fist bump at Comic-Con. Lillian is a self-confessed geek who likes nothing more than settling down with a comic or a good book, except maybe writing. Given a notepad, pen, her Kindle, and an infinite supply of chocolate Hob Nobs and she can lose herself for weeks. Romance was never her reading matter of choice, so it came as a great surprise to all concerned, including herself, to discover a romance was exactly what she’d written, and not the rollicking spy adventure or cozy murder mystery she always assumed she’d write. Luckily there is always room for romance no matter what plot bunny chooses to bite her, so never say never to either of those stories appearing.

Lillian lives in an imposing castle on a windswept desolate moor or in an elaborate shack on the edge of a beach somewhere, depending on her mood. And while she’d love for the heroes of her stories to either be chained up in the dungeon or wandering the shack serving drinks in nothing but skimpy barista aprons more often than not they are doing something far less erotic like running charity shops and shoveling elephant shit.

Drawn to the ocean, although not in a Reginald Perrin sort of way, she would love to own a camper van and to live by the sea.

 

Find her at

Blog: lillianfrancis.blogspot.co.uk

Facebook: www.facebook.com/lillian.francis.100

Twitter: @LillianFrancis_

Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/Lillian_Francis

Now to reward you for sitting through the whole post please enter the giveaway for a $10 giftcard.

https://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/d0fe9a851/

 

 

New Release: Magic & Mistletoe by Annabelle Jacobs

Magic&MistletoeMagic & Mistletoe

Buylinks: Amazon US | Amazon UK

Christmas is Harry’s favourite time of the year, but it looks like he’ll be spending it alone. When it comes to the men he fancies, his luck is non-existent. Harry’s nerves always get the better of him—especially when he tries to talk to Andrew, the hot guy downstairs.

Everything changes when Harry meets a mysterious girl in the woods who professes to be a witch. He dismisses her claims, but when odd things start happening to him, he has to reconsider.

Andrew was attracted to Harry from the start, but their awkward encounters put him off. All goes well until Harry opens his mouth—and ruins it with his stupidity and silly comments. When Harry suddenly becomes more relaxed and they have a proper conversation, Andrew realises his first impression was wrong. As the days count down to December 25, they get swept up in the Christmas spirit and their relationship moves faster than either expected.

A little winter magic might have been the push they needed, but Harry worries that when it wears off, he’ll no longer be the man Andrew wants.

 

New Release and Giveaway: The Guardian Angel by Liam Livings

 

Liam LivingsBuylinks here

Blurb:

What happens when a man falls in love with his guardian angel?

Richard Sullivan is plagued by white feathers turning up at the oddest moments. Amy, his best friend, suggests his guardian angel is trying to contact him, but he dismisses the idea out of hand as nonsense.

Until, that is, he meets Sky. Six feet of muscle in a man skirt with white feather wings.

What exactly is a guardian angel? And what happens when your guardian angel takes leave and sends in a temp to cover? Do you wait for a perfect boyfriend on the off chance you may be able to touch him, to be with him, or do you grab happiness with another human? And, why the hell has Richard’s life suddenly become so complicated?

Excerpt:

It all started on my way back from the wrong job. I’d just turned it down because I couldn’t stand to listen to that lot going on about sustainability this and putting bees on the roofs of houses that. I just wanted them all to fuck off. I didn’t need their job offer. I had a good feeling the law firm application would get me onto their graduate scheme. I knew it. I could feel it in my water.

The law firm sent me a letter thanking me for the application. And good luck with my other job searching.

Fuck it.

I returned to the office just west of Liverpool Street station to do my last week of temping—my last week temping there, after a long series of temping jobs, some of which had made me want to jump under the train some mornings, others I could just sail through with my brain in neutral. And now this one. Well, this one was fine.

It had been fine. At first I thought it was quite interesting to try to do what New York City had done with its unloved, unknown areas, and name them. Like their SoHo was the area south of Houston Street. TriBeCa was the Triangle Below Canal Street. All this was interesting and news to me when I’d started at the Between Town Partnership. They were trying to make the area between the City of London, Liverpool Street, and the West End, happen. At the moment it was a sort of nowhere between the proper shopping of the West End and the financial district—a sort of no man’s land. No one had reason to go there specifically, unless they worked there, as I had for a variable three months.

I turned on my PC, went to the kitchen to make myself an instant coffee, but not Nescafé because they were doing something nasty about bottle-feeding in Third World countries. I had listened at the time, a bit, but had just internally rolled my eyes. No, this was all free-range, organic, preloved coffee. Shame it still tasted of shit, though.

I sat at my PC and noticed a white feather next to the mouse. I picked it up, looked at it closely, noticing it was pretty perfect as far as feathers went, and then threw it in the bin.

The morning passed without incident: spreadsheets about the CO2 output of various buildings, some brainstorming for this new area, and another offer of an extension to my contract.

“I’ll think about it, thanks,” I said, folding the offer letter into my bag and leaving for lunch.

I sat on a bench in a little park. The grass was covered in office workers, each eating their lunch and grabbing some air and sun for a moment in their day. I pulled out the offer letter from my bag, and another perfect white feather fell into my lap. This one was a bit larger—as big as my index finger—and still perfectly white, still not bent or dirty. I folded it back with the offer letter, then rang Amy at work. She’d know what to do.

“Good morning, The Music and Video Shop, how can I help you?”

“It’s me. How’s your morning?”

She swapped her phone voice for her proper, slightly Welsh accent. “Busy as it goes. I can’t believe people still actually come into a shop to buy this stuff.”

“Just be thankful they’re trying to close down Pirate Cove. And there’s plenty of people who don’t know how to use it anyway, playing it safe, buying DVDs and CDs from you lot.” I paused, thinking about my morning, my situation, and the feathers; she’d want to hear about those. “So, white feathers, what do they mean?”

About Liam Livings

Liam Livings lives where east London ends and becomes Essex. He shares his house with his boyfriend and cat. He enjoys baking, cooking, classic cars and socialising with friends. He escapes from real life with a guilty pleasure book, cries at a sad, funny and camp film – and he’s been known to watch an awful lot of Gilmore Girls in the name of writing ‘research’.

He has written since he was a teenager, started writing with the hope of publication in 2011. His writing focuses on friendships, British humour, romance with plenty of sparkle.

You can connect with Liam

Twitter @LiamLivings

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/liam.livings

Blog http://www.liamlivings.com/blog

Website www.liamlivings.com

Giveaway:

Win a $15 Giftcard from Amazon or ARe, plus 2 further prizes of an ebook from Liam’s catalogue. Competition closes 11th December – midnight GMT.

Direct link is http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/f922301b64/?

 

Giveaway for Jordan & Rhys by Sue Brown

Jordan&RhysFS

Buylink: Dreamspinner | Amazon | All Romance

Book #1 Frankie & Al

Book #2 Ed & Marchant

Book #3 Anthony & Leo

Book #4 Jordan & Rhys

Eight months after the assault in which his sub and lover was killed, Jordan Nicholls isn’t making much progress in his recovery. Marchant and Ed, Jordan’s friends from the BDSM club, stage an intervention.

They employ a carer to look after Jordan. Rhys may be a sub, but he’s forceful, making Jordan eat and exercise rather than live on coffee and cigarettes. Despite Jordan’s protests, Rhys slowly forces him back to life.

But Rhys wants to be Jordan’s sub, and despite being protective of Rhys, Jordan’s not sure he can ever return to the BDSM lifestyle. In order for their relationship to continue, they’ll need to find a compromise that meets both their needs.A Novella in Frankie’s Series

Excerpt:

Chapter 1

Eight months later

JORDAN SAT alone at the end of the bar, nursing a Coke and pretending not to notice his best friend, Tony, who was pushed up against the wall, his hands pressed flat against rough plaster as Leo kissed him.

“Wishing it was you?” Marchant Belarus sat on the stool next to Jordan. He was the owner of the BDSM club and too fucking perceptive. There was nothing he didn’t see or interfere in when it came to his club.

Jordan couldn’t take his gaze away from the couple, watching with a sad envy that didn’t come naturally to him. “Leo’s not my type.”

His lame attempt at a joke fell flat when Marchant didn’t chuckle.

“I never thought he’d be Tony’s, but look at them now.”

Finally Tony had a Dom of his own, and he exuded happiness. Despite the fact that Leo was younger and shorter than Tony, it was clear who was dominant in their relationship. For the first time, Jordan saw Tony, watched how beautifully he submitted—and Jordan was too late.

“Tony waited for years for you to notice him,” Marchant said quietly.

“You think I didn’t know that? I just thought…. Leo’s better for him than I am.” Jordan turned his head as Tony sank to his knees. The couple weren’t bothered by an audience. They never seemed to notice anyone else when they were in a scene. Jordan gave Marchant a wan smile. “What do you want? Apart from reminding me what I’ve lost.”

“Ed’s worried about you. He sent me to talk to you.”

“I’m fine.” Jordan gritted his teeth as Marchant raised an eyebrow. Could you raise a derisive eyebrow? Marchant possessed eyebrows that conducted whole conversations, particularly when he thought someone was being an arse. “It’s taking time.”

Marchant patted his back, not requiring more explanation. It had been eight months since Jordan had been badly injured in an assault in which his sub, Mike, had been killed. Jordan was still recovering from the physical injuries, and the mental trauma was like a scar to his soul. Once outgoing and gregarious, now Jordan shuffled through the day, feeling like he was wrapped in layers of gray wool that muffled him from the outside world. Marchant’s sub, Ed, had once told Jordan that he breathed for the first time the day he met Marchant. Jordan had stopped breathing the day three drunk thugs used their fists to tear his world apart.

Jordan swallowed hard at the memory, and then he noticed Marchant had put his arm around him and Tony was pressed against him, also holding him. Solid walls of men hemmed him in, made him feel safe.

“What?”

Tony gently swiped a tear from Jordan’s face. Jordan hadn’t even realized he was crying, but his nose was blocked and his throat tight. He rested his head on Tony’s chest and let the tears flow.

Finally he raised his head, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. “Shit, I’m sorry, Tony. You—”

“Shut up.” Tony hugged him even tighter.

“Get off.” Jordan tried to bat them away. “Christ, you’re going to suffocate me.”

They stepped back, to his relief, but they didn’t leave his side—which was also a relief, even if he’d never admit it.

“Why don’t you go upstairs for a while?” Marchant said. “Ed’s working, and the place is empty.”

Jordan pushed back his hair, grimacing at the greasy feel. He’d let himself go recently, finding even washing his hair was a battle. His arm had taken a long time to heal, and he struggled with even basic motor skills.

“I’ll go home before I make a bigger idiot of myself.” He loved his friends, but suddenly their concern was too much. It pressed down on him, and he needed to get away.

“I’ll run you home,” Tony said, looking over to Leo to check if it was all right.

“It’s okay, I can get the bus.” Jordan hadn’t been able to drive since the assault. A blow to the head had left him with intermittent seizures in the early stages, and he was banned from driving for a year.

“I’ll drive Mr. Jordan home.”

Jordan turned to look at the unknown speaker. He was young and slim, maybe Leo’s age, maybe younger, with a shock of dark hair that looked as if he’d stuck his finger in an electrical socket.

“Thanks, but I’m okay.”

“Sorted,” Marchant said with satisfaction. “Jordan, this is Rhys. He’s new to the club. Thank you, Rhys.”

Giveaway


I have a mega Frankie series giveaway on Rafflecopter. $15 giftcard, audible codes for Ed & Marchant and Anthony & Leo, a signed copy of Frankie & Friends, and ebooks from my back catalogue. Giveaway ends 3rd December 12.00 GMT.

Or direct link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/6050dd134/?

Sale: Just Jack by Meredith Russell

Just a reminder that Just Jack by Meredith Russell is on sale until December 27th.

Buylinks: Amazon (US) | Amazon (UK) | All Romance eBooks | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Apple iStore

Blurb: When the line between fairy tales and magic, and the real world become blurred, can love really conquer anything?

Leo Marsh is having a bad day. He just caught his boyfriend cheating on him, and not for the first time, then he falls, quite literally, for a man who has to be too good to be true…. When Leo slips and falls on some ice in front of Jack, Jack sees something all too familiar in Leo’s eyes. For over fifty years, Jack has existed in a solitary life of ice and bitterness. Just like Leo, he was betrayed by a man he loved, and swore no one would ever break his heart again: he gave up on love, and it seemed love had given up on him.

But if by fate or magic, Jack and Leo find their paths crossing for a second time, and with a little guidance from friends, dare to take a chance on each other. The problem is, Jack isn’t the charming and uncomplicated guy Leo thinks he is. When Jack gave away his ability to love, he became something else, someone cold and unloving. He became Jack Frost.

As Jack and Leo get closer, Jack is left torn and confused. Jack yearns for anything that reminds him of his humanity, but the truth is, he feels nothing, not warmth, not love, and he knows he might never be able to love Leo the way he deserves to be loved.

New Release: End Street Book 5 by RJ Scott and Amber Kell

End Street 5 600

End Street Book 5: The Case of the Purple Pearl by Amber Kell and RJ Scott

Buylinks here when available: http://rjscottauthor.blogspot.co.uk/2015/10/the-case-of-purple-pearl-end-street-5.html

Blurb: After failing in a quest to win the Fae Queen’s approval, Halstein is locked in a world of stone. Forced to remain a gargoyle he spends his days on Sam’s desk pining for his lost love.

Prince Idris’s lover went missing and was presumed dead. Alone, Idris lives a life away from court, starved of energy but unwilling to sleep in the room he once shared with his beloved.

Can Sam and Bob save these fated lovers before it’s too late? And will Bob’s ultimate sacrifice be enough to free Hal from his prison?

Volume 1 – Books 1 & 2

Book 1 – The Case of the Cupid Curse 
Book 2 – The Case of the Wicked Wolf

Volume 2 – Books 3 & 4

Book 3 – The Case of the Dragon’s Dilemma 
Book 4 – The Case of the Sinful Santa 

Excerpt:

Chapter One
“What are you doing?”

Sam sighed. This was the fifth time today their visiting gargoyle had asked him that. Three weeks had passed since it had decided to stay at the house and wait for Sam to find it a master. And those three weeks had lasted a very long time.

“Taxes,” Sam muttered. The same answer he’d given every single time he’d been asked.

“I don’t like math,” the little gargoyle said. He waddled across Sam’s desk, leaving small muddy footprints on a neatly filled-in form. Sam couldn’t even muster the energy to get angry.

“Are you going to tell me your name yet?” Sam asked. He placed his pen on the desk and leaned back with a stretch, eying the small gargoyle against the hulking monstrosity that sat immobile on the corner of his desk. They were so dissimilar, in size and expression.

“You know I can only tell my master.”

“I can’t keep calling you the little gargoyle. I’m going to have to give you a name.”

The little gargoyle turned in a circle to face Sam, then squatted into a pose with his mouth open in a snarl. It looked pretty mean, and Sam edged back.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

The gargoyle’s expression changed back to the one he usually had; that of a dopey baby.

“Nothing, I was just giving you my fierce face so you can give me the right name. I’m not having you calling me Sunshine or Cutie. I want something strong like Zephariel Angel of Vengeance.”

Sam couldn’t help the snort of laughter, then immediately felt guilty when the gargoyle’s expression fell. “Sorry,” he apologized. “It’s just, uhm, that name is taken. How about Leo, like a lion, a brave, strong lion.”

The gargoyle tilted his head in contemplation, then nodded. “Leo, I like Leo. I’m done with you now. You already have a gargoyle. I’m going to find my true master.”

That decided, he jumped down off the desk and waddled over to the door, sidestepping awkwardly when Smudge slunk in with intent in every step. In a leap, Smudge was up on the desk, sitting right on the tax forms and staring straight into Sam’s face.

“What are you doing?” Smudge asked telepathically.

“Taxes,” Sam answered. He didn’t add a sigh this time.

“You should be tracking down what kind of other your uncle’s pet gargoyle is.”

Leo, the newly named visiting gargoyle, had declared that the old paperweight on Sam’s desk that looked like a gargoyle, walked like a gargoyle, and was stone like a gargoyle, wasn’t actually a gargoyle at all, but other.

“Where do you suggest I start? And why can’t you tell what it is, oh powerful familiar.” Sam couldn’t help the sarcasm. Smudge was capable of putting souls back in bodies and using heavy magic, but he couldn’t track down what kind of paranormal had been transformed into an ancient crumbling gargoyle paperweight?

“I’ll forget you said that,” Smudge said condescendingly. “I’ve been busy.”

“With what?” Sam asked. Privately he thought Smudge spent too much time cleaning himself with his paws up in the air and his tongue—

“I can hear you,” Smudge warned. “And who else do you think can keep your attic spider infestation at bay?”

Sam shuddered. He didn’t like small spiders at best, let alone the giant ones Smudge had suggested lived only a few floors up. “Good work,” Sam praised. “And as to our paperweight friend here—” Sam tapped the solid stone thing on the head with a stapler. “—I’ve put out a request to everyone I know as to who may be missing someone. I used the ParaGoogle to see if anyone knows anything. Not sure what else I can do at this stage.”

Smudge gave a feline version of a huff, deliberately washed himself on the desk for a good five minutes, then disappeared out of the room. Sam shook off the fur that had fallen on his paperwork. This needed to be done and, unless he finished it soon, he’d have the authorities fining him all over the place.

A knock on his office door jerked Sam from his sad contemplation of the bills he had to pay. Although he’d earned some money recently and he owned the building where he worked and lived, the flow of money going out far exceeded the money rushing into his pockets.

Taxes were a bitch.

Giveaway

Competition to win $15 Amazon/Are giftcard, and 2 further prizes of RJ Scott e-books – closes 6th December at 00:01 GMT (London)

 

DIRECT LINK:

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/f922301b63/

About RJ

RJ Scott has been writing since age six, when she was made to stay in at lunchtime for an infraction involving cookies. She was told to write a story and two sides of paper about a trapped princess later, a lover of writing was born.

As an avid reader herself, she can be found reading anything from thrillers to sci-fi to horror. However, her first real true love will always be the world of romance where she takes cowboys, bodyguards, firemen and billionaires (to name a few) and writes dramatic and romantic stories of love and passion between these men.

With over seventy titles to her name and counting, she is the author of the award winning book, The Christmas Throwaway. She is also known for the Texas series charting the lives of Riley and Jack, and the Sanctuary series following the work of the Sanctuary Foundation and the people it protects.

Her goal is to write stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and most importantly, that hint of a happily ever after.

rj@rjscott.co.uk

www.rjscott.co.uk/

https://twitter.com/Rjscott_author

www.facebook.com/author.rjscott

www.librarything.com/author/scottrj

www.tumblr.com/blog/rjscott  (some NSFW (not safe for work) photos)

www.pinterest.com/rjscottauthor/

About Amber Kell:

Amber Kell is one of those quiet people they always tell you to watch out for. She lives in Dallas with her husband, two sons, and one extremely stupid dog.

amberkellwrites@gmail.com

http://www.amberkellbooks.com/
https://amberkell.wordpress.com/

https://www.facebook.com/amber.kell.7

 

 

 

 

New Release: Humbug by Joanna Chambers

Humbug by Joanna Chambers

Buylinks: Amazon | All Romance

Blurb: Quin Flint is unimpressed when his gorgeous colleague, Rob Paget, asks for extra time off at Christmas. As far as Quin is concerned, Christmas is a giant waste of time. Quin’s on the fast track to partnership, and the season of goodwill is just getting in the way of his next big project. But when Quin’s boss, Marley, confiscates his phone and makes him take an unscheduled day off, Quin finds himself being forced to confront his regrets, past and present, and think about the sort of future he really wants…and who he wants it with.

Bio
Joanna Chambers always wanted to write. In between studying, finding a proper grown up job, getting married and having kids, she spent many hours staring at blank sheets of paper and chewing pens. That changed when she rediscovered her love of romance and found her muse. Joanna’s muse likes red wine, coffee and won’t let Joanna clean the house or watch television.
Excerpt:

“Look,” I said, “I know I’m not Mr. Touchy-Feely, but I’m not such a bad guy either.”

Rob turned back to me. “You reckon?” he said, and his usually warm brown gaze froze me. “Do you even know what your nickname in the office is?”

“No,” I whispered.

“Skinflint.”

“Skinflint,” I repeated faintly.

“Quin Flint—skin flint,” he explained, emphasising the obvious rhyme. “Not exactly subtle, I know, but I can’t argue with its accuracy. Haven’t you noticed that no one comes to ask you for anything if they can possibly help it? If you’re given an expenses claim to approve you always question it—it’s as though you think we’re asking for money out of your own pocket! You’re as bad with leave requests. You make people feel like they’re asking for this huge favour, instead of taking time off that they’re entitled to. Do you think I wanted to speak to you this morning about leaving early? The only reason I did was because Marley wasn’t there.” He was furious, his dark eyes sparking with temper, and all I could do was stand there. I couldn’t deny anything he’d said. Eventually, I looked away, feeling wretched.

I can’t believe I used to defend you.

For some reason, the worst part was knowing that perhaps Rob hadn’t completely hated me till today.

The silence between us stretched uncomfortably but I didn’t know how to break it.

In the end, it was Rob who did, sighing heavily, then saying in a flat tone, “I should go. I need to get back to take Tim to his party.”

Reluctantly, I returned my gaze to him. He was watching me with the weirdest look on his face. Like maybe he felt as shitty about all this as I did. He certainly didn’t look as though he’d enjoyed saying his piece.

“Okay,” I mumbled. “Well, I hope you have a good Christmas with your family.”

“Thanks,” he said, his dark gaze oddly bleak. “Same to you.” And with that, he turned on his heel and trudged away, shoulders hunched against the cold.