Tales from the 77th Precinct Giveaway Winner

What a busy month! Thanks to all who came around this past week to celebrate our second May pax release. So many good stories to read, so little time...

Without further ado, the winner of our giveaway is...

salaan!

I have your address, so expect an email from us soon.

We'll be back on June 15 with blurbs and excerpts for our m/m time travel pax, which comes out on June 21. See you then!

An Excerpt from Scarecrows and Devils by T.A. Chase

Hello everyone. I’m here to give you an excerpt from my newest release, Scarecrows and Devils. ☺ I loved writing about Detective Ace Castle and Dulles, the fallen angel who might become more than a friend. I hope you enjoy the sneak peek and go to check it out. ☺

Scarecrows and Devils

T.A. Chase

Copyright 2015

Excerpt-

I'm Detective Ace Castle and I call the streets of Detroit home.

She's a faded queen, my city. Once she wore the gaudiest jewels and the most expensive designs. Now it's as though those outer trappings of success and prosperity hang tattered around her. Her crown is tarnished and her reign weak.

My city struggles to survive. Every hour, she loses more of her spirit. Yet there are people who still believe in Detroit, who love this deposed ruler with all their hearts, and I am one.

The day I took my oath to "serve and protect" the citizens of Detroit, I did so knowing how dangerous this job I chose could be. I will admit I never understood how dangerous until I stood face-to-face with a true monster and it was kill or be killed.

You readers may think it strange that I never knew about the "things that go bump in the night." I thought what I heard were fairytales and legends. Stories to scare children into being good. I should've realized that there's a little bit of truth in every story, even the most outlandish tales.

"What are you always writing in that notebook of yours, Castle?"

I shut the book before turning to meet the curious gaze of my newest partner. At thirty-eight, I should've either been promoted to lieutenant or retired, but here I sit, the senior detective on the squad and the one who always got the rookies.

"Beamer," I say, then cough. My pack-a-day habit plays havoc with my voice. "What was the first thing I told you when we met?"

The kid squints as he tries to remember. "No asking stupid questions."

"Right, and that was a stupid question. If I wanted you to know what I was writing, I'd have let you read it."

"Castle, you caught a floater in the river down by the Joe," the desk sergeant yells from across the room.

Sighing, I stand and tuck my notebook away. "Come on, kid."

He wrinkles his nose. "I hate floaters," he mutters as he tugs on his jacket before catching the keys I toss him.

I do, too, but I'm not about to tell him. He needs to see me as invincible, cynical or immune to all the shit our crappy world throws at us. I get the exact location, and we head out.

"The Joe" is Joe Louis Arena, home to one of hockey's most storied franchises--the Detroit Red Wings. Those ice warriors have been giving the people of this city hope for eighty-nine years, and even when the team sucked, the fans still cheered them on.

This isn't our part of town. Beamer and I tend to keep track of the dead over on the South side, so there's only one reason we were called out on this one. The floater's not human--or has been killed by some non-human.

While I'm a senior detective in the DPD, my unit isn't the one getting commendations and medals. To be honest, we're usually shuffled to the basement of police headquarters and forgotten until something weird happens, then we're called out. I still haven't figured out what Beamer did to get sent to my unit. He's not saying, which is a question I ask him often enough when I want him to stop talking.

We work other cases. Hell, with the rate of homicides rising in the city, the police use every possible officer they can. But when it's weird or unusual, I get dragged out to investigate. All because my first case at the police department involved a man murdered by a demon. There's no going back to a normal life after you've seen a man torn apart with nothing left to identify him except for one finger to get a print from.

The other guys jokingly call my specialty the 77th precinct. I usually ignore them, but sometimes I tell them to fuck off. It's hard making a joke about my job after seeing what I've seen.

As we arrive at the crime scene, I climb out of our sedan and glance around. Sometimes the killer hangs around when the police show up. They get a kick out of seeing us chase our tails. I bump Beamer's shoulder as we meet at the front of the car.

"Have one of the crime techs take pictures of the crowd," I tell him.

"Yes, sir."

I roll my eyes, hating his rather patronizing tone. "When you're done, come find me."

Ignoring anything else he might have to say, I jerk the collar of my trench up around my neck. It's cold here as winter begins to take hold in the city. The destruction and desolate feel makes it feel chillier than it should. Urban decay is slowly taking over this once beautiful city, breaking my heart a little at a time.

I study the graffiti decorating the support beams for the overpass, deciphering which gang owns the section of the city where the body has been found. I would have to go question them. Wincing, I shake my head. Dragons. Hamilton Lee's gang and one of the most vicious in all of Detroit. He's human, but I wouldn't doubt he has a paranormal or two hiding out within his ranks.

We grew up together, and I turn a blind eye to what he's done. He's killed men, and I know that, but there's no proof, and I won't risk my career to go after him. Not when he has the police commissioner and some very important people in the mayor's office on his payroll.

I'd take Beamer with me when I go to chat with him. My partner needs to know who the players are in town, not that I expect him to have to make deals with any of them.

"Hey there, Castle. Got another weird one for you," one of the uniforms calls to me as I approach where a few of them are milling about.

There's a lump close to the edge of the riverbank. At least someone had the decency to cover up the dead. That's not always the case, especially if it's paranormal in nature. The humans in the area tend not to see them as creatures to respect.

I think if they were to ever see a werewolf in full moon madness or a demon in the grip of their vocation, they would fear them, which could lead to respecting them. Or at least worrying that if they didn't, the being would kill them.

I have no such concern. I treat every creature I run across the same. Total indifference. I don't care whether they are human or paranormal. Whether they're a wolf, a demon or a dragon. They have as much right to live in my city as I do, but if they cause trouble for this place that I love, then they will be treated to my complete focus and a lot of people don't like when I pay attention to them.

"Tell us what you have so far," I order as I get closer.

Most of my fellow officers in the DPD have no real love for me. Nor I for them. Yet where I differ from them--I would back them in any situation. If one of them needs me, I will be there. I'm pretty sure none of them have the same thought about me.

The senior officer, O'Grady, glares at me for a minute, but I don't blink. He knows I won't budge until he tells me everything, and if I don't move, he's stuck at the scene until I let him go.

O'Grady huffs, then says, "A homeless woman swears she saw a guy dressed in a yellow suit dump the body at around three o'clock this morning. Then apparently he disappeared."

The younger uniform snickers. "Crazy broad is probably doing coke or meth. The homelessness is getting out of control around here. We need to round them up and ship them somewhere else."

I strike as fast as a rattler, twisting my hand into the front of his starched uniform and yanking him off his feet. Glancing down to read his nametag, I snarl, "Samuelson, get your ass out of here, and I never want to see you working another one of my crime scenes. You entitled little fucker. It's only by the grace of whatever higher being you believe in, that you have a job and aren't on the streets like the rest of these unfortunates."

O'Grady grabs my arm in an attempt to get me to let go. I shake Samuelson once before shoving him away from me. "Both of you get your ungrateful asses out of here. Beamer and I can handle this."

"Gladly. You're a fucking loose cannon, Castle. One of these days, there won't be anyone around to save your ass," O'Grady warns before dragging Samuelson back toward their patrol car.

"Another shining example of how to win friends and influence people, I see," Beamer comments, as he joins me.

"Fuck off, Beamer," I mutter, about to crouch down to uncover the body.

He touches my arm, then lets his hand drop. "Why do you act that way? He was only saying what most people think."

I surge to my feet before strolling over to the edge of the river. I stare across it at the Canadian coastline, yet I'm not seeing it. I'm seeing my mother sleeping in an alley, wearing dirty ragged clothes. Her hair's stringy and unwashed. She smells like garbage. There's nothing I can do to convince her to come home with me. She's lost in her own world, and while it's not the world I want for her, it's one that makes her happy.

"He's never known what it's like to suffer a loss so big it breaks you," I mumble, not caring if Beamer can hear me or not. "Both of them have always lived in a middle-class neighborhood with working parents who can hold a job and love their kids. They don't know what it's like to see your father drink himself to death, then watch your mom go off the deep end."

"Castle," Beamer says.

I dip my shoulder, avoiding his touch. I hate thinking about her and my old life. I dragged myself out the gutter to try to be a better person than I used to be. It didn't always work, and if I'm not careful, I'll be following my father into that early grave, soused with alcohol and cigarettes.

*_*_*

Scarecrows and Devils by T.A. Chase is now available at Amber Allure.

If you'd like the chance to win the entire pax collection, just leave a comment on today's post. On Saturday, a winner will be picked at random from all the comments made this week on the blog. Comment on all, and that's multiple chances to win!

Lime Gelatin and Other Monsters – the horrors of gelatin by Angel Martinez

Before anyone gets all hate mail on me, I have nothing against gelatin. Really enjoyed it as a child. My mom would make different colors and cut them into cubes and we’d have these dishes of colored light. Pretty neat, and nice and cool on those muggy summer days.

But…if you’re of a certain age, born in the fifties or sixties, you know what I mean by the horror of gelatin. Every party, every gathering, every school function had one of these monstrosities. The Jello salad. The gelatin mold. The oh-my-god-what-the-hell-is-that? concoctions. You see, there were entire recipe books of this stuff and decorative molds made just for gelatin creations. You let the gelatin set in this mold in the fridge, then took it out, held it in a bowl of scalding water for ten seconds, turned it over and voila! A Jello fruit basket, cornucopia, lobster, or shamrock. Cool.

Some weren’t so bad. The ones with canned mixed fruit, okay, a kid could deal with that. But then there were the odd colored ones, the ones that looked like they’d caught some strange phlegmy disease. There were horrid things in them: cottage cheese, sour cream, coleslaw. How could adults do these things to perfectly good gelatin? How?

Slowly, over the years, this unintentional aversion therapy took hold until now it’s difficult to look at gelatin and not think of those atrocities of social engineering. So when I was planning monsters for this series, lime gelatin seemed such an obvious choice. Of course, it’s a semi-sentient, oversized, deadly blob of gelatin, because, well, even cottage cheese infused gelatin is really only mildly monstrous.

Lime Gelatin and Other Monsters

Offbeat Crimes 1

(part of Amber Allure’s 77th Precinct Pax)

Blurb:

Officer Kyle Monroe’s encounter with a strange gelatinous creature in an alley leaves him scarred and forever changed, revealing odd abilities he wishes he didn’t have and earning him reassignment to Philadelphia’s 77th Precinct where all the cops have defective paranormal abilities. 

Just as Kyle’s starting to adjust to his fellow misfit squad mates, his new partner arrives. Tall, physically perfect, reserved, and claiming he has no broken psychic talents, Vikash Soren irritates Kyle in every way. But as much as he’d like to hate Vikash, Kyle finds himself oddly drawn to him, their non-abilities meshing in unexpected ways. 

Now, if Kyle and Vikash can learn to work together, they just might be able to stop the mysterious killer who has been leaving mutilated bodies along the banks of the Schuylkill. 

Excerpt:

Kyle sat up straighter, shifting to see between the heads in front of him. Soren looked like a poster boy for the model police officer, tall and straight, uniform crisp and sharp. He stood at parade rest beside the lieutenant, impassively surveying his new colleagues. A little knot of resentment lodged in Kyle’s stomach. At his own introduction to the 77th, he’d been nervous and fidgety, freaked out by the collection of…freaks. How can he be so calm? 

“Officer Soren transferred from the Harrisburg PD—” 

“Don’t they have enough freaky shit of their own up there?” Wolf called out in his rasping growl. 

“Since Harrisburg is in our jurisdiction,” she continued with a quelling glance. “He’ll start out partnered with Monroe.” 

“What does he do, ma’am? That it’s safe to put him with Kirby, er, Kyle?” Shira Lourdes asked as she flicked nervous glances across the room at Kyle. An empty chair slid away from her and fell over. Her partner, Greg Santos, shook his head and righted the unfortunate piece of furniture. 

“Officer Soren’s abilities are his business, which he may or may not choose to share if you ask. And don’t bully him about it either, any of you.” Lieutenant Dunfee swept the room again, pinning each of her officers with her needle-laser gaze like captive butterflies. “Monroe, my office after briefing. Info on your current case.” 

She dismissed them, stalking from the room with thunderclouds in her eyes. Kyle found himself approaching the new guy and trying his best not to be awkward. Did he offer to shake hands? Was it safe? Would the guy flinch like so many people did at the sight of Kyle’s scarred hands? Soren was even taller up close, six-foot-three of lean inscrutability, his blue eyes startlingly bright against smoky bronze skin. 

“Um, hi, I’m Kyle Monroe.” Kyle fidgeted when Soren didn’t offer his hand either. “You’re with me, I guess. I’ll show you our spot in the squad room.” 

Soren followed him silently and Kyle was starting to wonder if he was like Krisk in the not-speaking department until he finally spoke in a smooth, soft baritone, making Kyle startle and miss a step. “Why do they call you Kirby?” 

“You’d hear it sooner or later, I guess.” Kyle shrugged. “It’s this thing I do, absorbing other people’s talents temporarily. If they’re close to me. Or touch me. Like Kirby, the little pink dude in the video game.” 

“Ah.” 

Just that? Soren didn’t edge away, or change expression at all. Was he made of stone? “It’s a thing. Everyone here has a thing.” 

After a few more steps, Soren asked, “Always?” 

“What… Oh, was I always like this? Who knows? I mean, maybe I’ve picked up stray thoughts or something, but no. It’s pretty recent. Knowing that I do this.” 

Kyle took a wide arc around Vance as he entered the squad room, pointing to the double desk in the far corner, well removed from everyone else. “That’s ours. Coffee’s over there, but you might not want that coffee. Let me grab my file and we’ll go see the lieutenant.” 

“So what’s your story, Soren?” Vance called across the squad room. “What flies your freak flag?” 

“Yeah, what do you do?” Jeff Gatling stopped ’porting his banana from one corner of his desk to the other. 

“I don’t really do anything,” Soren answered as he hefted the empty coffeepot. “Guess I’ll make fresh since I’m the new guy.” 

He opened the top to remove the filter and every human voice in the squad room yelled out, “No!” 

Most people would have startled, maybe dropped the carafe. Soren just blinked at the roomful of people gesturing wildly. He took the filter out and emptied it over the trashcan. “Why not?” 

“You don’t want to do that.” Kyle stayed by his desk, a nice safe distance from the coffee station. “That’s Larry’s job.” 

“Larry’s not keeping up then.” 

The container of sweetener packets began to rattle. It shivered across the counter and leaped to a messy end, ceramic shards skittering across the floor. The desk that Krisk and Wolf shared rose from the floor several inches and slammed back down. Wolf fled with a squeaking yelp just before the desk flipped on its side. 

Soren glanced toward Kyle. “Larry’s not a cop, is he?” 

“He is…he was! A dead cop. Larry’s a ghost. He gets ticked if anyone else makes the coffee. Put the stuff back, please!” 

“Larry?” Soren raised his voice but to all appearances remained completely unruffled. “I’m new here. I’m very sorry I invaded your jurisdiction. See? I’m putting the carafe back. Closing the top. Are we good, Larry?” 

A breeze ruffled through a stack of papers, but no further mayhem ensued. The carafe slid from its pad on the coffeemaker and floated to the water cooler where Larry, who never manifested in a visible form, whistled tunelessly while he filled the carafe. 

From his dim corner of the room, Carrington said in his dry, genteel way, “Welcome to the Island of Misfit Freaks...” 

About the Author:

Angel Martinez is the erotic fiction pen name of a writer of several genres. Her experiences as a soldier, a nurse, a banker, and an underpaid corporate drone give her a broad view of the world and a deep appreciation for the astounding variety of people on this small planet. 

She currently lives part time in the hectic sprawl of northern Delaware and full time inside her head. She has one husband of over twenty years, one son, two cats, a love of all things beautiful and a terrible addiction to the consumption of both knowledge and chocolate. 

To contact Angel with praise, adulation, sarcasm, and complaints to the management (any management, she’s not picky, but it might not solve your flight reservation issue) please try these linky things:

Email: ravenesperanza@yahoo.com

Website: http://angelmartinezauthor.weebly.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/amartinez2

Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/angelmartinez

*_*_*

Lime Gelatin and Other Monsters by Angel Martinez is now available at Amber Allure.

If you'd like the chance to win the entire pax collection, just leave a comment on today's post. On Saturday, a winner will be picked at random from all the comments made this week on the blog. Comment on all, and that's multiple chances to win!

Best Friends Forever by Darcy Abriel

There’s something about childhood friendships.  I don’t know if it’s that as children, we possess that sheen of innocence, that certain unquestioning acceptance about the people who are a part of the formative years of our lives.  But there’s also a fear of losing special friendships if we reveal too much of what is in our deepest heart.  The moment is lost and we live with the regret of things not said. Sometimes we move on as we mature to new friendship spheres, and then sometimes not.  And we’re left with that lingering question in the back of our mind, “what if”?

Perhaps we have to move on, experience other things, follow different adventures before, maturing into our true self, like Dorothy discovering where the home of her heart truly lay, we recognize that one person who undeniably touches us heart and soul, giving breadth to our lives in a way we would never know without them.

Eye For the Prize is a discovery not just of an odd, supernatural object, but the rediscovery of friendship, of love, and perhaps the one person that makes anywhere truly home.  What would you give up to be united with that one true soulmate?  How far would you go?  And what if it came down to a choice between the man you love, or the family who raised you, whose blood you shared?  And there was no middle ground.  And what if the incident you’ve been set to investigate will eventually be the thing that changes your whole life?

In every object is a story, in every story there is a pulse of truth.  Finding the truth is Detective Larke Ava’s job.  Find the object is Zhalazti researcher Roan Dwellen’s purpose. Reuniting with the boyhood friend who completed you was never part of the plan for either man.

Eye for the Prize, part of the Tales from the Amber Allure 77th Precinct AmberPax Collection. Mystery, danger, heritage, and love.  Was there ever a more explosive combination?

Here’s just a short excerpt when Larke awakens from an uneasy sleep to discover an unexpected presence in his apartment.

*_*_*

Larke's heart almost stopped beating. A rush of air left his lungs. And suddenly he knew all too well who was in the room with him. He went to turn on the table lamp next to the couch.

"No. Leave it off."

"I want to see you, Roan. It's been a while."

"In a minute."

"How did you get in?"

"I've developed skills, I guess you could say."

"Breaking and entering?" Larke asked.

"Among others. For my line of work it comes in handy," Roan responded.

Larke felt like he was still in a dream world. Could this be real? Was Roan really seated in his apartment here in Seattle? Or was it just part of the dream--the nightmare he'd only recently escaped.

Roan walked across the room and suddenly dropped to one knee before Larke. He reached out and ran a hand through Larke's hair and Larke shuddered at the contact.

"Why are you here?" Larke asked. "Why now?"

"I think you know why," Roan said.

"I have something you want," Larke responded.

Roan stared into his eyes for a long moment. Shadow chased across his face. More mature, more knowing than he had been when he left the island so long ago. Something in that look had Larke's heart turning over, right along with his stomach.

"Yes, you have something I want." Roan's hand tightened in Larke's hair, holding him still as he leaned forward. "Aren't you going to welcome me home?" he asked and then burned Larke through and through with a searing kiss that practically had his toes curling.

The fire in Larke's belly roared to life after so many years. He wrapped his arms around Roan, still afraid it was all a dream, but suddenly not caring. In the moment. He just wanted to be in the moment. He didn't care about the past, the future, right or wrong. None of that mattered. Without breaking the kiss, Roan shoved Larke back onto the couch, and stretched out over him. Larke's cock sprang to life, hardening beneath the onslaught of sensations that rode through Larke.

Larke broke the kiss and stared up at Roan. Roan placed two fingers across his lips.

"Don't say anything. Not now. Not yet. Do you have any idea how many nights I dreamed about this?" And then he kissed Larke again, and Larke forgot everything he was supposed to remember as he pulled Roan closer.

*_*_*

Eye for the Prize by Darcy Abriel is now available at Amber Allure.

If you'd like the chance to win the entire pax collection, just leave a comment on today's post. On Saturday, a winner will be picked at random from all the comments made this week on the blog. Comment on all, and that's multiple chances to win!

The Door Keeper by Hurri Cosmo

For a taste of what to expect, check out the video trailer!

*_*_*

The Minneapolis/St. Paul 77th police precinct has been labeled a group of misfits, but it’s actually rather unfair. In reality, the precinct has plenty of talent in its midst...paranormal talent. Of course, no one on the “outside” really knows that. And Nick, the boss of the 77th, keeps his team busy chasing, capturing, and returning to where they belong all those creepy-crawly things that tend to go “bump” in the night. Together, the officers of the 77th keep the twin cities safe and totally unaware that doors to other realms even exist, while Nick, the Door Keeper, maintains order in what would otherwise be chaos.

But chaos has materialized in the form of a dangerous vampire. Viciously brutal, he is a killing machine and must be stopped at all costs. So the last thing Nick needs is another partner, especially one as sexy and distracting as Arrain.

Yet Arrain intends to be far more than just a partner. He has come to be paired with Nick, something Nick cannot allow, mainly because he has a secret that he intends to keep.

Arrain, however, has a few secrets of his own, and one thing he knows is that the vampire intends to not only kill the Door Keeper, but to take his power. Now, Arrain might be the only one who can save Nick, and the twin cities, from total destruction.

To read an excerpt, head on over to Amber Allure.

*_*_*

The Door Keeper by Hurri Cosmo is now available at Amber Allure.

If you'd like the chance to win the entire pax collection, just leave a comment on today's post. On Saturday, a winner will be picked at random from all the comments made this week on the blog. Comment on all, and that's multiple chances to win!

Crazy Joe by D.J. Manly and A.J. Llewellyn

Anyone old enough remembers the cop shows of the 1970s. Columbo in his raincoat, Kojax and his lollypop, Baretta with his parrot, and the list goes on. The interesting thing about these shows, aside from the “whodunnit” aspect was that there was usually something very unique and often humorous about the characters. Who can forget the gorgeous Tom Selleck in Magnum P.I. and his constant problems with Higgins? Magnum was constantly in the dog house on the estate Robin Masters. We watched these shows and loved them as much for the antics as for the drama. 

One notable show from that era highlighting the comedic aspect of policing was Barney Miller. Abe Vigoda as Phil Fish, a character known for his world weary demeanor and persistent hemorrhoids is a prime example of how comedy is at its best set in a New York City Police station.

When A.J. and I decided to write a story for the Pax anthology called Tales from the 77th Precinct, we decided on New Orleans, as a colorful background for “Crazy Joe.”

In this story, we work with two very different young men. Montana Delray is a hero cop who has been a naughty boy and is punished by being transferred to the 77th, where all good cops go to die. The other young man is Joe, nicknamed “crazy” due to his sixth sense. He sees things. However in spite of his psychic talent, he doesn’t see Montana coming his way. Then…bang! We bring two very different guys together and do some voodoo!

So what do you get when you take a smokin’ bad boy cop like Montana Delray, yank him off his pedestal when he’s found with the boss’s son in the back room, and send him to the 77th  Precinct? You get a fun, sexy romance that will make you laugh and applaud. Reminiscent of the old 70s cop shows? Sure, but a lot sexier (no P.G!)

Crazy Joe: Synopsis and Purchase Link:
http://www.amberquill.com/store/p/2189-Crazy-Joe.aspx

Montana Delray, a hot, good-looking New Orleans detective, had it made until his captain found him fooling around with his son at the office Christmas party. Even a gold shield and a medal for valor can’t save him from being busted down and transferred to the last place any cop wants to go—the 77th Precinct.

Detective Joe Hunter, nicknamed “Crazy Joe” because he has the sixth sense, flounders in a department where everyone has their “idiosyncrasies.” Then Montana Delray walks through the doors of the 77th and turns psychic Joe’s world upside down.

For the two mismatched detectives, is the 77th Precinct a nightmare or their destiny?

Genres: Gay / Contemporary / Mystery / Detective / Suspense / Thriller / Paranormal / Psychic Phenomena / Romantic Comedy
Heat Level: 3
Length: Novella (25k words)

Excerpt:

In the station locker room, Montana and I stripped off our things and bagged them for evidence against Stanley. What he’d done to us definitely constituted assaulting a police officer. There were two showers in the men’s section of the precinct. I liked the idea of saving water and showering with Montana since I’m a thrifty kind of guy, but I doubted our coworkers would dig it.

Suddenly, Montana was over to me. He kissed my cheek.

“What was that for?” I asked, my voice coming out throaty and thick. I swear the temperature rose instantly. We were fogging up the little mirror in my locker.

“You handled Pumpincock so damned well.” Montana’s voice was hoarse. His towel fell and I caught a glimpse of the beautiful monster between his thighs.

Fuck! No wonder Ben Bauer was obsessed with him.

He leaned in and kissed me and his cock rose. I reached for it, but he took a little step back and bent to retrieve the towel, clearing his throat.

“Lib,” he muttered. I tried valiantly to hide my own half-hard cock behind the towel in my hand.

I looked to my left and noticed the token female cop in the precinct strutting over to us. Stacy might have taken pride in her nickname of Lib, but I found it disrespectful. Plus, she and her fuck-me pumps were stomping all over my parade.

“Well, well, well,” she said, with a sickening leer. “Buggering on duty?”

“Get the fuck out of here,” I told her. “You’re not supposed to come in here anymore, remember?”

Her jeering expression faltered. She’d been given two official warnings. She narrowed her gaze and pointed two fingers at me, then back toward herself.

“I’ll go, Crazy Joe, but I’m watching you.” She turned and took off again, tripping over the bagged clothes I’d left on the floor. Jesus, with her ass in the air and skirt hiked up, I could see she was commando. Eewww.

I helped her to her feet.

“Thanks.” She straightened her skirt and smoothed back her hair and walked off. By the time I turned back around, Montana was gone and I could hear the shower running on the other side of the lockers.

I stepped into the other stall, wondering if I’d ever get to give Montana a tongue bath. I soaped up and rinsed off quickly, then stepped out again, surprised to see Montana lolling on the other side of the shower door.

“Nice cock,” he said.

“Back atcha.”

We looked at each other and laughed.

*_*_*

Crazy Joe by A.J. Llewellyn & D.J. Manly is now available at Amber Allure.

If you'd like the chance to win the entire pax collection, just leave a comment on today's post. On Saturday, a winner will be picked at random from all the comments made this week on the blog. Comment on all, and that's multiple chances to win!

LATEST PAX RELEASE - Tales from the 77th Precinct

Genres: Gay (M/M) Erotic Romance

The titles listed below comprise the Tales from the 77th Precinct AmberPax™ Collection. Buy all five together and receive a 35% discount! To purchase any of the titles individually, click on the covers below to go to the books' separate pages. 

Crazy Joe by A.J. Llewellyn & D.J. Manly Novella (Gay)

The Door Keeper by Hurri Cosmo Extended Novella (Gay)

Eye for the Prize by Darcy Abriel Extended Amber Kiss (Gay)

Lime Gelatin and Other Monsters by Angel Martinez Novella (Gay)

Scarecrows and Devils by T.A. Chase Extended Novella (Gay)

 

In conjunction with our newest release, we will be having a giveaway! Any comment made from today throughout the week (5/24-5/29) will be eligible to win the entire pax collection. A winner will be picked at random on Saturday from all comments received.

Scarecrows and Devils by T.A. Chase

Ace Castle, detective in the Detroit Homicide Unit, works in the paranormal division known as the 77th Precinct. He and his partner deal with the weird, odd, and downright strange cases popping up in the city. Ace has been doing the unusual work since he started at the DPD, and since then, he has learned that the monsters children swear are under their beds just might really be there.

Now, when a girl is murdered in the city, it’s up to Ace and his partner to find the killer along with his motive for ending her life. Yet Ace soon discovers the victim was no ordinary human, but an Undine, and he’s pretty sure her killer is also one of those aforementioned monsters.

Finding a murderer is hard enough without constant interference from demon lords and fallen angels, so when Dulles, a fallen angel Ace has known for years, is determined to make Ace fall in love with him, his job soon becomes twice as difficult...

Genres: Gay/Dark Fantasy/Shapeshifter/Witchcraft/Magic/Paranormal/Mystery/Detective/Action/ Adventure
Heat Level: 2

Length: Extended Novella (32k words) 

Read a short excerpt...

...As a coroner’s van pulls up to the scene, I separate myself from a group of shopkeepers I’d been interviewing. While I could’ve sent Beamer to talk to Dulles, I want the privilege of standing next to him. Pathetic for a man of my age to act like a star-struck teenager, but I can’t help the way he makes me feel.

I arrive at the van just as he steps from it. Every inch of my body takes notice and I silently swear at myself. Dulles is perfection in human form—or as human a form as a fallen angel can take. Yep. The coroner who works on the paranormal homicide cases is a fallen angel. Not something you would think—or hear—every day.

Yet it works because Dulles is able to think beyond the normal realm of human capabilities to discover if the killer was human or paranormal. Plus his being an angel—fallen or otherwise—puts him at the top of paranormal society. So while he can help me when I need to go talk to beings that look down on humans, it also puts him far beyond what I can hope to achieve.

His dark blue eyes meet mine and he smiles. The scar burnt into his cheek pulls the corner of his right lip, so it looks more like a sneer than a grin, but I know he’s happy to see me. I’ve never figured out why he enjoys my company.

“Sorry to pull you away from whatever you were doing,” I say as he approaches me.

“While I wish we could meet under better circumstances, Ace, I don’t mind coming out when you’re the one calling.” Dulles takes my hand in his and squeezes.

My cheeks heat, causing me to duck my head. I don’t yank away from his touch because it’s been a while since I’ve felt another person’s touch, and just the brush of Dulles’s skin on mine shoots fireworks along my nerve endings.

“I still appreciate you doing this.”

Because let’s be honest, as a fallen, he can do pretty much whatever he wants. It’s not like he needs to work for a living. I step back to let him get to the back of his van. He already has on the black coveralls he likes to wear at crime scenes. I don’t like them because they hide his ass, which is truly a work of art.

Like that statue in Rome—the one they call David that’s supposed to be the representation of the perfect male form. I’ve never laid eyes on that piece of marble, but I have laid eyes on Dulles and I think he might have modeled for the artist. Unfortunately, I’ve never seen him naked, so I can’t be a hundred percent sure.

“Castle? Are you here?”

Blinking, I turn to look at Beamer, who stands next to me. “What?”

“Do I take the doctor to where the body is or are you going to do it?” Beamer smirks, and I glare at him. As he clears his throat, he steps back from me. “I’ll keep canvassing the area.”

“Call O’Grady. See if the bastard will tell you the name of the homeless lady who saw the guy in yellow dump the girl,” I tell him. “Then see if you can find her. When you do, ask her to come back here. Tell her Ace would like to talk to her.”

“Why do you think that’ll make her come with me? Most of the homeless around here want nothing to do with the police.”

Beamer’s right. It’s an unfortunate side effect of the economic downturn hitting this city. Though not all those who live on the streets are there because they’re poor. Some are addicts. Some have mental problems they’re unable to handle or control. Some have lost everything and the anonymity of the streets makes them feel safest. Whatever their reason, they have no love or trust for the police who will force them back into a world they can’t be a part of any more.

“Of course she’ll come with you. Just tell her Ace wishes to speak to her. The homeless know him and they trust him.” Dulles comes to stand next to me. He rests his hand on my shoulder while talking to Beamer.

I can’t risk looking at him because I’m afraid of what my expression will show. Dulles has been around during some of my less-than-stellar moments when the whiskey overcame my mouth. He’s the holder of my secrets. I thank God in the dark of night that I didn’t spill my guts about my attraction to him. Pitying me because of my family and where I came from is one thing. Feeling sorry for me because I’m longing for something outside my sphere of reality is something else entirely...

Lime Gelatin and Other Monsters by Angel Martinez

(Part of the Offbeat Crime series)

What good is a squad of cops with psychic abilities if all of them are defective?

Officer Kyle Monroe’s encounter with a strange gelatinous creature in an alley leaves him scarred and forever changed, revealing odd abilities he wishes he didn’t have and earning him reassignment to Philadelphia’s 77th Precinct where all the cops have defective paranormal abilities.

Just as Kyle’s starting to adjust to his fellow misfit squad mates, his new partner arrives. Tall, physically perfect, reserved, and claiming he has no broken psychic talents, Vikash Soren irritates Kyle in every way. But as much as he’d like to hate Vikash, Kyle finds himself oddly drawn to him, their non-abilities meshing in unexpected ways.

Now, if Kyle and Vikash can learn to work together, they just might be able to stop the mysterious killer who has been leaving mutilated bodies along the banks of the Schuylkill.

Genres: Gay/Contemporary/Paranormal/Mystery/Detective/Romantic Comedy/Action/Adventure/ Series
Heat Level: 2

Length: Novella (19k words) 

Read a short excerpt...

...Kyle sat up straighter, shifting to see between the heads in front of him. Soren looked like a poster boy for the model police officer, tall and straight, uniform crisp and sharp. He stood at parade rest beside the lieutenant, impassively surveying his new colleagues. A little knot of resentment lodged in Kyle’s stomach. At his own introduction to the 77th, he’d been nervous and fidgety, freaked out by the collection of…freaks. How can he be so calm?

“Officer Soren transferred from the Harrisburg PD—”

“Don’t they have enough freaky shit of their own up there?” Wolf called out in his rasping growl.

“Since Harrisburg is in our jurisdiction,” she continued with a quelling glance. “He’ll start out partnered with Monroe.”

“What does he do, ma’am? That it’s safe to put him with Kirby, er, Kyle?” Shira Lourdes asked as she flicked nervous glances across the room at Kyle. An empty chair slid away from her and fell over. Her partner, Greg Santos, shook his head and righted the unfortunate piece of furniture.

“Officer Soren’s abilities are his business, which he may or may not choose to share if you ask. And don’t bully him about it either, any of you.” Lieutenant Dunfee swept the room again, pinning each of her officers with her needle-laser gaze like captive butterflies. “Monroe, my office after briefing. Info on your current case.”

She dismissed them, stalking from the room with thunderclouds in her eyes. Kyle found himself approaching the new guy and trying his best not to be awkward. Did he offer to shake hands? Was it safe? Would the guy flinch like so many people did at the sight of Kyle’s scarred hands? Soren was even taller up close, six-foot-three of lean inscrutability, his blue eyes startlingly bright against smoky bronze skin.

“Um, hi, I’m Kyle Monroe.” Kyle fidgeted when Soren didn’t offer his hand either. “You’re with me, I guess. I’ll show you our spot in the squad room.”

Soren followed him silently and Kyle was starting to wonder if he was like Krisk in the not-speaking department until he finally spoke in a smooth, soft baritone, making Kyle startle and miss a step. “Why do they call you Kirby?”

“You’d hear it sooner or later, I guess.” Kyle shrugged. “It’s this thing I do, absorbing other people’s talents temporarily. If they’re close to me. Or touch me. Like Kirby, the little pink dude in the video game.”

“Ah.”

Just that? Soren didn’t edge away, or change expression at all. Was he made of stone? “It’s a thing. Everyone here has a thing.”

After a few more steps, Soren asked, “Always?”

“What… Oh, was I always like this? Who knows? I mean, maybe I’ve picked up stray thoughts or something, but no. It’s pretty recent. Knowing that I do this.”

Kyle took a wide arc around Vance as he entered the squad room, pointing to the double desk in the far corner, well removed from everyone else. “That’s ours. Coffee’s over there, but you might not want that coffee. Let me grab my file and we’ll go see the lieutenant.”

“So what’s your story, Soren?” Vance called across the squad room. “What flies your freak flag?”

“Yeah, what do you do?” Jeff Gatling stopped ’porting his banana from one corner of his desk to the other.

“I don’t really do anything,” Soren answered as he hefted the empty coffeepot. “Guess I’ll make fresh since I’m the new guy.”

He opened the top to remove the filter and every human voice in the squad room yelled out, “No!”

Most people would have startled, maybe dropped the carafe. Soren just blinked at the roomful of people gesturing wildly. He took the filter out and emptied it over the trashcan. “Why not?”

“You don’t want to do that.” Kyle stayed by his desk, a nice safe distance from the coffee station. “That’s Larry’s job.”

“Larry’s not keeping up then.”

The container of sweetener packets began to rattle. It shivered across the counter and leaped to a messy end, ceramic shards skittering across the floor. The desk that Krisk and Wolf shared rose from the floor several inches and slammed back down. Wolf fled with a squeaking yelp just before the desk flipped on its side.

Soren glanced toward Kyle. “Larry’s not a cop, is he?”

“He is…he was! A dead cop. Larry’s a ghost. He gets ticked if anyone else makes the coffee. Put the stuff back, please!”

“Larry?” Soren raised his voice but to all appearances remained completely unruffled. “I’m new here. I’m very sorry I invaded your jurisdiction. See? I’m putting the carafe back. Closing the top. Are we good, Larry?”

A breeze ruffled through a stack of papers, but no further mayhem ensued. The carafe slid from its pad on the coffeemaker and floated to the water cooler where Larry, who never manifested in a visible form, whistled tunelessly while he filled the carafe.

From his dim corner of the room, Carrington said in his dry, genteel way, “Welcome to the Island of Misfit Freaks...”

The Door Keeper by Hurri Cosmo

The Minneapolis/St. Paul 77th police precinct has been labeled a group of misfits, but it's actually rather unfair. In reality, the precinct has plenty of talent in its midst...paranormal talent. Of course, no one on the outside really knows that. And Nick, the boss of the 77th, keeps his team busy chasing, capturing, and returning to where they belong all those creepy-crawly things that tend to go bump in the night. Together, the officers of the 77th keep the twin cities safe and totally unaware that doors to other realms even exist, while Nick, the Door Keeper, maintains order in what would otherwise be chaos.

But chaos has materialized in the form of a dangerous vampire. Viciously brutal, he is a killing machine and must be stopped at all costs. So the last thing Nick needs is another partner, especially one as sexy and distracting as Arrain.

Yet Arrain intends to be far more than just a partner. He has come to be paired with Nick, something Nick cannot allow, mainly because he has a secret that he intends to keep.

Arrain, however, has a few secrets of his own, and one thing he knows is that the vampire intends to not only kill the Door Keeper, but to take his power. Now, Arrain might be the only one who can save Nick, and the twin cities, from total destruction. 

Genres: Gay/Dark Fantasy/Vampire/Paranormal/Mystery/Detective/Suspense/Thriller/             Action/Adventure
Heat Level: 3

Length: Extended Novella (36k words) 

Read a short excerpt...

...Arrain took two more steps, which brought him right into Nick’s personal space. Nick closed his eyes and breathed in Arrain’s scent. Somehow he had committed it to memory during that short, almost adolescent, make-out session they’d had had back in the alley. And now all he wanted to do was submit to this man who dominated his every thought by simply being in front of him.

But having his eyes closed was not good. How could he take in the nakedness of the god with his eyes closed? Except when he did open them, his whole field of vision was taken up by Arrain’s eyes. Then his lips were on his and Arrain’s tongue was pushing through them and into him. Oh! How could a tongue feel so good? Nick noticed Arrain’s arms circling around him and pulling him close. Somehow Nick’s arms were already around Arrain’s neck. When had he done that? Did it matter? Their bodies were pressed together, chest to chest, groin to groin and wait! What the hell were Nick’s arms doing up so high? There was naked flesh to fondle and touch and squeeze and places where his fingers would be oh so happy to go. What was this towel still doing covering this man? Towels should be outlawed, done away with totally.

Oh! Wonderful fleshy cheeks that obeyed Nick’s hands when he moved them and kneaded them and pushed his digits down between them. Was that a moan coming from Arrain?

Yes! Oh, such sounds, like he was enjoying Nick’s hands on him. Nick certainly relished using his hands. And his fingers. There. His opening. Could he push inside? Just a little?

“What are you doing?” Arrain’s voice was raspy as he pulled out of the kiss.

“Investigating.” Nick wished he had lube here, condoms. Damn. He hadn’t been with anyone in so long that he didn’t even carry any with him.

Arrain looked down on Nick. “You want to begin the pairing?”

“Wow. A true romantic.” Nick pushed his finger deeper. Arrain chuckled. Nick grunted. “Geez. You’re laughing. Also not the reaction I was going for.”

Arrain made a quick movement backward, which dislodged Nick’s finger. But what Arrain did next made Nick forget all about it. Arrain dropped to his knees and started to undo Nick’s pants. But, damn. He hadn’t showered and he really needed to. He stopped Arrain’s hands and stepped back.

“Wait, big guy. I need a shower first then we can play all we want.”

“No problem. I’ll help. It’ll go faster.”

It was Nick’s turn to chuckle as he finished with the button and fly on his pants. “I doubt that.”

“Okay. Let me change that statement. We’ll both come faster.”

“That what this pairing thing is, then? Slam, bam?” Nick stepped out of his filthy jeans, Arrain making it nearly impossible by moving closer to start unbuttoning his shirt. Once again his heady scent was driving Nick crazy.

“Well, this first time certainly will be for me. I’m so fucking hot, Nick. Seeing this body constantly, smelling you, wanting desperately to touch you all the time. I know I will not be able to hold out for long.”

Well, Nick had to admit, probably longer then he would.

And, yeah. The man was fucking hot.

Finally naked, Nick suddenly felt self-conscience about his older, skinnier body. His skin wasn’t tight anymore, he was pale everywhere, there were spots and scars. Nearly hairless except for his groin area, Nick was mortified when he saw all the gray mixed in with the black pubic hair. When the fuck had he turned old there? Shit. His heart beating wildly, he turned away, except now he was exposing his probably saggy old ass to the man of his dreams. His young dreams. Damn it...

Crazy Joe by A.J. Llewellyn & D.J. Manly

Montana Delray, a hot, good-looking New Orleans detective, had it made until his captain found him fooling around with his son at the office Christmas party. Even a gold shield and a medal for valor can’t save him from being busted down and transferred to the last place any cop wants to go—the 77th Precinct.

Detective Joe Hunter, nicknamed “Crazy Joe” because he has the sixth sense, flounders in a department where everyone has their “idiosyncrasies.” Then Montana Delray walks through the doors of the 77th and turns psychic Joe’s world upside down.

For the two mismatched detectives, is the 77th Precinct a nightmare or their destiny?

Genres: Gay/Contemporary/Mystery/Detective/Suspense/Thriller/Paranormal/Psychic Phenomena /Romantic Comedy
Heat Level: 3

Length: Novella (25k words) 

Read a short excerpt...

...Joe was pulling up to the curb. I pulled up behind him. I turned off the engine and watched him get out. Joe strolled over to my window. I lowered it. “Coming in, handsome? Or…do you dare?”

“You keep that up and I’ll drag you into the back of this car and do you right here.”

“Like Elizabeth?” He stuck out his tongue at me.

I got out, grinning. “Ha, ha.”

He was almost up to the door, a nice side-by-side duplex with red shutters and porch swing. He was putting the key in the door when I got up behind him. I pressed close, making sure he could feel how hard I was. I felt him tremble. “You’re giving yourself away there, Joe.”

“It won’t be that easy,” he said softly, pushing open the door. He switched on the light.

I looked down to see the tent in his pants. “Oh, okay. Are you sure about that?”

Joe inched along the hallway. He threw his keys on the sideboard and smiled. “You sure are a cheeky fellow.”

I reached out to him. “What did you call me, cheeky?”

Joe pulled away and pushed open the door to a bedroom. “Tell me in here.”

I followed him and watched while he lowered himself on the bed. “Okay, so…Montana, show me what you got?”

I shrugged out of my jacket, undid my gun holster and placed it on the chair. I checked my gun and made sure the safety was on. I smiled at him as I approached the bed. “I assume I have carte blanche to do whatever I have to in order to earn my man badge?”

Joe lay back on the pillow. “Whatever you go, I can handle.”

“I have no doubt of that,” I said softly, licking my lips. I reached down and undid his shirt, one button at a time. I pressed my lips to each place as I bared his chest. When his shirt was completely open and I’d reached Joe’s waist, he let out a faint moan.

I lifted my head and looked at him. “What was that?”

“You’re a tease,” he accused, between gritted teeth.

“Yes, but I please,” I told him, pressing my lips to his chest as I undid the zipper on his pants.

“We’ll see,” he replied...

Eye for the Prize by Darcy Abriel

Detective Larke Ava doesn’t believe in magic or the paranormal. And he joined the Seattle PD in order to uncover and expose the unscrupulous, those like his mother and his brothers. Larke has few cherished memories of growing up on Vashon Island, except for the time he spent with his best friend, Roan Dwellen. But Roan, the adventurer, with a belief in the magical running deep in his veins, left the island when he was eighteen on a mission for his family—his Roma tribe—leaving Larke behind.

Now a part of Seattle’s 77th Precinct, Larke has been assigned a new case—to discover the secrets behind a recovered stolen artifact named the Eye of Anu. Little does Larke realize the unique artifact is about to change his life. Not only will it reunite him with the boyhood friend he has never forgotten, but it also draws the attention of dangerous foes, including his own family, who will stop at nothing to acquire it.

Soon, caught between the family he’s always tried to love but couldn’t, and the best friend he could not stop loving but doesn’t necessarily trust, and all the while tempered by his duty to the city he serves, Larke’s next move could mean live or death—especially his own.

Genres: Gay/Contemporary/Mystery/Detective/Paranormal
Heat Level: 3

Length: Extended Amber Kiss (17k words) 

Read a short excerpt...

...Larke’s heart almost stopped beating. A rush of air left his lungs. And suddenly he knew all too well who was in the room with him. He went to turn on the table lamp next to the couch.

“No. Leave it off.”

“I want to see you, Roan. It’s been a while.”

“In a minute.”

“How did you get in?”

“I’ve developed skills, I guess you could say.”

“Breaking and entering?” Larke asked.

“Among others. For my line of work it comes in handy,” Roan responded.

Larke felt like he was still in a dream world. Could this be real? Was Roan really seated in his apartment here in Seattle? Or was it just part of the dream—the nightmare he’d only recently escaped.

Roan walked across the room and suddenly dropped to one knee before Larke. He reached out and ran a hand through Larke’s hair and Larke shuddered at the contact.

“Why are you here?” Larke asked. “Why now?”

“I think you know why,” Roan said.

“I have something you want,” Larke responded.

Roan stared into his eyes for a long moment. Shadow chased across his face. More mature, more knowing than he had been when he left the island so long ago. Something in that look had Larke’s heart turning over, right along with his stomach.

“Yes, you have something I want.” Roan’s hand tightened in Larke’s hair, holding him still as he leaned forward. “Aren’t you going to welcome me home?” he asked and then burned Larke through and through with a searing kiss that practically had his toes curling.

The fire in Larke’s belly roared to life after so many years. He wrapped his arms around Roan, still afraid it was all a dream, but suddenly not caring. In the moment. He just wanted to be in the moment. He didn’t care about the past, the future, right or wrong. None of that mattered. Without breaking the kiss, Roan shoved Larke back onto the couch, and stretched out over him. Larke’s cock sprang to life, hardening beneath the onslaught of sensations that rode through Larke.

Larke broke the kiss and stared up at Roan. Roan placed two fingers across his lips.

“Don’t say anything. Not now. Not yet. Do you have any idea how many nights I dreamed about this?” And then he kissed Larke again, and Larke forgot everything he was supposed to remember as he pulled Roan closer...

The Second Time Around giveaway winner

It's been a week of second chances around here, so thank you for everyone who stopped by! Since it's Saturday, it's time to announce the winner of our giveaway. And that person is...

Milica Who!

I've got your email, so expect to see something from us soon.

Our month isn't over yet, though. We have two paxes coming out in May, which means we'll be back on Monday with blurbs and excerpts from our 77th Precinct pax that comes out on the 24th. Make sure you head on back!

Romancing the Nose by A.J. Llewellyn

With each new story I write, I try to always come up with fresh new jobs for my characters to do. I had frankly never heard of a “nose” until a friend of mine told me a story about a nose who died. Those were the words he used. The nose died. That’s something you don’t hear every day. Unless you work in the perfume industry, and even then these are words you don’t want to hear.

When a nose dies, the fragrance he—and increasingly, she—creates, often dies with them.

Who knew? 

I sure didn’t, but learning about the people who create the distinctive fragrances we have all come to know and love for my latest book, Romancing the Nose, part of the The Second Time Around AmberPax™ helped explain why some signature perfumes change over the years. A “nose” creates a perfume but no two noses create the same smell or have the same reactions to scents. The story my friend told me involved a brand new perfume that was released and became successful. When the nose died unexpectedly, the brand manufacturers scrambled to find somebody who could reproduce the exact same sense.

Anyone can tell you how impossible that is. So the brand owners came up with the clever idea to release a new version and to sell limited stocks of the original, until they run out. I wondered about the nameless men and women who were hired to sniff and tell.

What did they go through? Who came up with the winning scent in the end? And what exactly does a nose need to do?

This required a lot of research, one of my favorite parts of research. It also required a lot of study on the world’s most successful, and least popular perfumes. Why does one scent smell like paradise to one person and like fly spray to another?

And would two “noses” ever fall in love?

In my world, they do! I had a lot of fun creating the two star-crossed lovers in my story, and jumping in with both feet into the heady, intoxicating world of perfume. I hope you enjoy reading Romancing the Nose as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Romancing the Nose: Synopsis and Purchase Link:

http://www.amberquill.com/store/p/2182-Romancing-The-Nose.aspx

College dropout Kells Beckwith is uncertain about his future. His mother intervenes, giving him an unusual job prospect. Her friend, designer Wendy Hart, has launched her first fragrance. Unfortunately, the “nose”—the man who created her signature perfume—has died. None of the “noses” Wendy hires to duplicate the haunting perfume can crack it. Kells, however, has an uncanny sense of smell that plunges him nose-first into the cutthroat world of high fashion. There, he meets Christophe Morisset, a legendary “nose” and a very sexy man, who can’t—or won’t—reproduce the fragrance called “White Matinee.”

Despite initial friction, the men have a hot fling, but Kells soon learns it isn’t easy romancing the “nose.” Nevertheless, Kells can’t get over the mercurial, sexy Frenchman who teaches him that the sense of smell doesn’t come from the nose but from the brain.

Can Kells ever persuade Christophe to give him a chance, to think with his heart and not his brain? A future with Christophe may be impossible. Though the man never leaves Kells’ mind, he’s always just out of reach until they eventually meet again. Can Kells finally win the love he so desperately wants the second time around?

Genres: Gay / Contemporary / Ménage (M/M/M) / Group Sex / Voyeurism 

Heat Level: 3 

Length: Extended Novella (35k words)

For purchase and for a hot excerpt, please click this link: http://www.amberquill.com/store/p/2182-Romancing-The-Nose.aspx

*_*_*

If you'd like the chance to win the entire pax collection, just leave a comment on today's post. On Saturday, a winner will be picked at random from all the comments made this week on the blog. Comment on all, and that's multiple chances to win!