Full Moon Fever

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Thank you very much for hosting me here today. My name is Elizabeth Black, and I’d like to introduce you to my GLBT paranormal shifter romance, Full Moon Fever. Enjoy!

BLURB:

William Shakespeare said All the world’s a stage, but he hadn’t counted on shifters under a theater’s hot lights. Lovers Sam Hightower and Grant Newsome live for the stage. Although they have enjoyed the wanderlust of traveling theater for many years, each has grown tired of the road and wants to settle down. They also have a secret. As shifters and no part of any pack, they are lone wolves in every sense of the word. The full moon brings out the beast in them. 

Even though their work as gaffers—lighting techs—puts them in contact with a large variety of willing, sexy men and women to share their love, they prefer men. They find a dancer, Luke Pearce, who makes their blood run hot, but Luke has a secret of his own to test them. Add scenic artists and lovers Charlotte and Lina to the mix, and you have a wild and sexy fivesome.

To spoil their fun and to their surprise, Sam and Grant discover another shifter in their midst, but this young person is so inexperienced and terrified she could expose them to the human hunters and get them killed. How can Sam and Grant protect themselves as well as the people they love?

EXCERPT

After many decades, Grant had grown weary of running and hiding, and that evening drove his melancholia home harder than ever.

There he sat with Sam in the Portland forest, part human and part wolf, smoking and drinking, waiting for their meal to appear. Grant sat in front of Sam while Sam rubbed his shoulders.

So much had changed over time. Now, he relied on his iPhone to keep track of moon phases. Before his trip to Freiberg, he hadn’t even noticed the moon in the sky at all. No matter where he lived or toured, he had taken to hiding out in the nearest forest on those couple of nights each month when the blood lust took over his mind and body. No one was safe when he transformed, and he did what he could to avoid harming people. A deer or stray dog quenched his blood lust while he hid from the world in the safety of the deepest area of the forest, waiting until the full moon decayed the five percent he needed to be out of trouble. He only transformed at night, and his gallon jug of monkshood rye alleviated his symptoms somewhat, but in the end, he knew he was a danger and needed to hide, not only to avoid killing people but to keep away from the local authorities.

He crouched on the forest floor, swatting the black flies that bit through his thick fur. He wished there were some way of reversing the curse thrust upon him. He wanted nothing more than to sit at home with Sam, drink some beer, and watch a porn flick while making love to Sam again. He cursed his bad timing and rotten luck. He could say “if only” until the tides reversed. Nothing would change the fact that he would go feral every full moon. While he accepted his fate, he did not like it at all. Each full moon he fell into a rage that often came with thoughts of suicide, but when he thought of Sam and his sweet nature and even sweeter body, he realized he had reason to stay alive.

Sam sat next to him, smoking a cigarette, and Grant handed him the jug. Why did Sam seem to take to the change better than he? Or did he really take to it better? What if Sam only pretended so that Grant wouldn’t feel so bad? Misery loved company, but Sam, being a good-natured sort, didn’t wallow in sorrow. He considered the moonlit change a monthly inconvenience, much like some women considered their menstrual cycles. An irritant. If only Grant felt the same way.

Sam gulped as he drank, making slurping noises that grated in Grant’s ears. Sometimes Grant considered the potion the only control he had over his life.

“I feel miserable. I hate the full moon,” Grant said. “Sometimes I just want to curl up and die.”

“It will last only another day or two and then things will be back to normal.”

“What kind of normal is this kind of life?” Grant let his chin rest on his chest as Sam rubbed the kinks out of his shoulders. “My entire body hurts. The monkshood rye helps, but I’m as sore as I know I’ll be every month.”

“I know what you mean. We need something strong for the pain, like morphine, but I don’t know where to get it.”

“I’d rather have cyanide.”

“Don’t talk like that. We can get through this.” 

Grant groaned in ecstasy as Sam’s fingers rubbed down his spine. Even though his entire body ached and he wanted to do nothing more than sleep for the next two days, his cock reacted to Sam’s amorous touch, growing larger and becoming sensitive to the slightest touch.

“Hey, I found a great movie for us to watch,” Sam said. “The Brotherhood of the Wolf. I figured it was the perfect movie for our time of the month.”

“Never heard of it.”

Sam turned to Grant and gave him a look Grant was all too familiar with. It was the you’ve got to be shitting me look, since Sam enjoyed relishing in the ways of the world much more than Grant.

You can’t be serious. What kind of werewolf are you when you’ve never heard of The Brotherhood of the Wolf?

“I just don’t get into those kinds of movies. I like action movies. You know that.”

“Tell you what. I’ll bring it home in a day or two, and we’ll watch it. It’s really good, and it won’t gross you out.” He grinned. “It’s French, too.”

“That means it has subtitles. I hate reading subtitles. No thanks, I’ll pass.”

“How about An American Werewolf in London?”

“I told you, no werewolf movies. I’d rather watch Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels again.”

“How about The Transporter Two? I hear it’s so bad it’s good. What about that one?”

Grant shuffled on the ground, picked up the jug of monkshood rye, and gulped some down. Pointedly ignoring Sam, he gazed into the forest, hoping something big and tasty would come out soon. Maybe a deer if they got lucky. He was famished, and he wanted to eat rather than waste time and energy talking about movies he didn’t like.

“C’mon, what do you say? It’s got Jason Statham in it. You like him.”

“Okay, that sounds good. Just no werewolf movies, please. What got into you to watch werewolf movies when the moon is full? That’s like watching Rosemary’s Baby when you’re pregnant.”

“I like to have fun with it, rather than mope about like you. You wallow in it. My first werewolf, and you turn out to be overly sensitive.”

“Oh, knock it off.” His sensitive ears picked up rustling in the brush several yards ahead. “Now shush. I hear food in the bushes. Shh.”

A ‘possum emerged from the brush, oblivious to the danger that lurked only a few yards away. Grant had not tasted ‘possum in several months, and he welcomed the change. He needed to eat meat when he shifted, but he didn’t want to call attention to himself by eating his neighbor’s pets or any animals that would be missed. That left the usual gopher, raccoon, or rat if they missed getting anything in the woods.

What I would do for some fresh venison, though.

He eyed up the unsuspecting creature’s flesh, salivating so much he could almost taste its meat, red and bloody, raw and metallic. Inching in, ever so slowly, so as to not so much as break a twig, he crept towards the ‘possum, and when he was ready to pounce, he heard a loud ka-boom from behind.

The ‘possum shrieked and fled into the forest. Birds flew from the trees. Furious, Grant turned on his heels and growled at Sam.

“Dammit, Sam, you sneezed, and that ‘possum got away from me.”

“I couldn’t help it. Allergies. I took Claritin early evening before we changed, but I guess I need a prescription.”

“Ya think? If you sneeze again and drive away a perfectly good meal, I might have to disembowel you myself.”

“C’mon, I said I was sorry. Lie back and I’ll make it up to you.”

Grant stretched out on the grass, arms behind his head and legs extended, waiting for Sam’s gentle touch. When Sam’s hand stroked his chest, his heart skipped a couple of beats. Even Sam’s slightest touch aroused him. His cock jumped a little, in anticipation of what he knew was coming.

The sex will take my mind off my hunger. There’s nothing as distracting as a good blow job, especially from Sam.

Grant relished Sam’s exquisite blow jobs, and he knew Sam would not disappoint him.

I need him, need his touch on me, anything to take my mind off this burning need for flesh.

Sam’s lips brushed Grant’s shoulder, then traveled down his chest to rest near his groin. Closing his eyes to fully enjoy Sam’s kiss, he waited for those soft lips to reach his cock.

Brushing against his head in tight, slow circles, Sam’s lips wrapped around Grant’s cock, and in response Grant dug his fingers into the earth. With a gentle movement, those lips and mouth stroked his shaft, making it jump in Sam’s mouth.

No other man ever had this kind of effect on me. I can’t resist the mere touch of him against me.

Sam’s tongue, slick and warm, flicked in circles around Grant’s shaft. His erection grew harder as Sam’s tongue moved faster around him. Sam alternated between stroking Grant’s shaft with his tongue, then sucking hard on his head, all the while rolling his balls in his hand.

Moaning with pleasure, Grant tensed as Sam took all of him deep into his mouth, sucking and licking, driving him wild. Grabbing Sam’s head in his hands, he pushed him harder against his cock, taking in his entire length. The approaching orgasm made his heart race, but the sounds of motors interrupted his passion. Grant opened his eyes in time to see a shooting star skitter below the full moon.

AUTHOR BIO

Elizabeth Black writes erotica, erotic romance, speculative fiction, fantasy, dark fiction, and horror. Her erotic fiction has been published by Xcite Books (U. K.), House Of Erotica (U. K.), Circlet Press, eXtasy Books, Ravenous Romance, Riverdale Avenue Books, Scarlet Magazine (U. K.), and other publishers. She also enjoys writing retellings of classic fairy tales, including her two self-published fairy tales “Trouble In Thigh High Boots” (Puss In Boots) and “Climbing Her Tower” (Rapunzel). An accomplished essayist, she was the sex columnist for the pop culture e-zine nuts4chic (U. K.). Her articles about sex, erotica, and relationships have appeared in Good Vibrations Magazine, Alternet, CarnalNation, the Ms. Magazine Blog, Novelspot, The Erotic Readers and Writers Association Blog, Sexis Magazine, On The Issues, Sexy Mama Magazine, and Circlet blog. 

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Finders by Amy Romine

Finders

Finders Ghost Hunting #1

by Amy Romine

Genre: Paranormal Romance Thriller 

When an expert Demonologist meets a Reality Show Producer on the Ghost Hunting Show Finders, sparks of true love fly so brightly even the Devil takes notice.

Demonologist, Luke Melloy has seen the face of pure evil. He’s fought it and sent it back to hell. It’s what he does. To Claire Westin, ghosts and demons are just great television and good for ratings. When faced with the truth Luke has seen, her reality is turned upside down as the two are swept into dire straits moments after they meet. Desire sparks between the unlikely pair, throwing their hearts into chaos with a love neither expected nor wanted.

When the Demon targets an unsuspecting Claire with his wrath, Luke finds his focus split between his oath to God and the awakening of his heart. Together, can they face the ancient evil and defeat it or lose everything?

Luke and Claire watched Grant, and the doctor attempt to engage Kelsey. The teenage girl sat still, her gaze fixed on Claire.

“Claire, come here,” Luke said motioning for Claire to join him on the other side of the room. “Slowly.”

Claire complied. Luke watched the girls’ eyes track Claire’s movement like a hunter tracking its prey.

“Luke,” Claire gasped, and Luke focused.

Claire’s usually clear eyes were fogged. He took her hand and discovered she was cold to the touch, as cold as when he’d pulled her out of the well.

“Just focus on me,” Luke said, squeezing her hand and knocking on the window between the rooms. A tingling sensation pulsed through Luke’s body. Consciously pushing the energy to Claire, he drank in the experience while taking deep breaths. Claire’s eyes cleared, and her hand warmed. “Better?”

She nodded. At the same moment, the door opened. Grant entered the small room, his eyes immediately focusing on their joined hands. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just got a little light-headed,” Claire said, releasing Luke’s hand.

Luke shot a look at Grant. “How did it go in there?”

“She opened her eyes, and we thought we were getting somewhere, but then we lost it. Not sure what happened.”

“We might know,” Luke said.

Claire shot him a deadly look.

Luke explained what happened in the observation room.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“There’s only one way to know for sure,” Grant said, looking at Claire.

“What?” Claire asked.

“We need to test the theory,” Luke replied.

“How?”

“By putting the stimulus back in the equation. First in the observation room, and then in the room with Kelsey,” Grant said.

“You’re not serious?” Claire replied, turning away from the men.

“Claire, if Kelsey is attracted to you for some reason, we have to investigate and see where it leads,” Grant replied.

Claire ran her hands through her hair. She stood silent for a moment before turning and meeting Luke’s eyes. She seemed to be searching for something. An acknowledgment or reassurance? He couldn’t give anything to her and looked away.

“Claire, there’s something you need to know,” Grant said.

Luke’s stomach dropped. Listening to Grant explain to Claire what had happened at the hospital when they found her in Kelsey’s room made him physically ill. He kept his focus elsewhere, not wanting to watch Claire’s reaction to the news. The incident was his fault. He should be able to protect her.

“Fine,” Claire said. “Yeah, okay, let’s see what happens.”

Luke turned, seeing the determination in her eyes.

Grant returned to Kelsey’s room and quietly informed the doctor Luke would be entering the room next, then stepped into the hallway and motioned to Luke. The two men switched places.

Luke stepped in, noting how cold the room felt compared to the hallway. “Hello, Kelsey, my name is Luke Melloy. I want to speak with you about Crestwater Church.” The girl lay motionless. “Kelsey, can you hear me? We’re here to help you, but you have to tell us what happened. We went to Crestwater. I gotta tell you, Kelsey, the church is a pretty creepy place. I would understand if you’re hesitant about sharing your experiences.” Luke took her hand. “Kelsey, you’re safe here in the hospital. Surrounded by people who are here to help you through this trauma.”

The door opened. Grant walked into the room, followed by Claire. Luke shook his head.

The doctor audibly sighed, “I want to thank you for trying. Your help is sincerely appreciated.”

“It is our pleasure,” Luke replied, watching Claire and Grant approach the bed.

Kelsey lay quietly, the shadows of her face dark and haunting despite the harsh hospital lights. Luke watched her closely while alternating his focus on Claire.

Nothing.

Silence.

Luke looked to Grant and then Claire. Claire exhaled a deep breath, the warmth of her breath mixing with a sudden iciness in the air. He switched his focus to Kelsey, whose eyes opened. The skin of her expression tightened against the bones of her face. Her eyes stared out with a menacing black glare. The room filled with the stench of death and sulfur.

“Kelsey?” Luke said. A guttural, yelping laugh of malevolent spite and rage emanated from the thin girl’s physical form. “Who are we speaking with, if not Kelsey?”

“He who is not him or her. He who will make the dripping climax of blood at your feet,” the Demon within Kelsey replied, licking its lips while looking at Claire.

An unearthly scream filled the room. Claire. Her face ashen and eyes wide in terror, she stumbled back. Grant moved to catch her, and Luke re-focused.

“God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, I appeal to your holy name, humbly begging your kindness, that you may graciously grant me help against this unclean spirit now tormenting this creature of yours, through Christ our Lord.”

“Save her, Luke. Save her as you did Daniel!” the Demon cried. The room shook, the lights flickering.

“I armor myself today with the power of the Most Holy Trinity, in the oneness of God, Creator of the universe. I armor myself today with the baptism of Christ, His crucifixion and resurrection, His ascension and glorious second coming.”

“There is no hope for her light! It is already marked with the seed of Belial!”

“I armor myself today with God’s guidance to direct me, God’s might to sustain me, God’s wisdom to instruct me, God’s word to give me speech, God’s shield to protect me, God’s army to defend me, against the snares of demons, against the lure of vices, against all who plot me harm.”

“Centum quinquaginta animas sedem formabis radicibus!” the Demon spat out with a low growl.

As quickly as the episode began, it ended. Luke checked the room. Claire stood shielded within Grant’s protective arms, while the doctor huddled in the corner of the room.

Shit.

Purchase Finders NOW! @extasybooks

Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/48353185-finders

Buy Links

eXtasy Books: https://www.extasybooks.com/product/product/?product_id=6562

Amazon

About the Author

Amy Romine has always wanted to be one of the good guys. From playing Charlie’s Angels in the backyard of her Macungie, PA home as a child to the pages of her unending projects, Amy has always dreamed of adventure and romance. Her need to make the characters truly deserve their happiness takes us on many a twisted journey. From serial killers to demons, Amy holds nothing back in the name of true enduring love.

A mother of three, Amy has spent the past sixteen years working in Operations for Ricoh America’s Corporation. She is an avid movie fan and enjoys books, television, theater, her dog Pip and all things romance.

Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Pinterest * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

Giveaway

$50 Amazon – 1 winner , ebook copy of Finders – 2 winners

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

https://www.silverdaggertours.com/sdsxx-tours/finders-book-tour-and-giveaway

Wards of Women by Denise N. Wheatly!

They bought men from a prison to fulfill their every need. What could possibly go wrong with such a simple little purchase?

WARDS OF THE WOMEN introduces three desperate girlfriends who, on the surface, appear to have it all, but underneath are in the midst of various crises. Mysterious deaths, extortion, straying husbands and illegitimate children have suddenly overtaken the lives of Violet Christianson, Shayne Wentworth, and Fifi Gentry. Eventually, when Violet becomes fed up with all of their circumstances, she does what any sensible woman would do—blackmails the state prison warden into letting each of them buy an inmate from the jail for their own personal fulfillment. But never in their wildest dreams did they imagine all the chaos that would ensue from a simple little purchase…

EXCERPT:

Violet Christianson was a woman who knew what her name meant to most. Perfection. Everyone either wanted her, wanted to be her, or simply wanted her to go away.

Violet considered herself to be the most beautiful woman on her block, and never missed an opportunity to ponder her stunning image. At five-eight, she kept her lean, size two figure draped in outrageously expensive designer clothing at all times. Her dazzling, widespread hazel eyes were framed with long, lush lashes. Her retroussé nose had finally been perfected after several invasive surgeries. Her soft, plump lips accentuated high cheekbones when they puckered. Her raven hair swung so low that she could practically sit on it.

Violet’s husband, Elliot, was rich. The richest man on the block, to be exact. Elliot worked as a real estate developer and closed more big-money deals than a little bit. As a result, he allowed her to spend his money on whatever she wanted, and whenever she wanted. As he should have, considering how unsightly he was. Elliot’s pockmarked skin, hair plugs, bifocaled eyes, rat-like teeth, pot belly, and squat body were enough to send most into hysterics the moment they laid eyes on him. But Elliot was wise enough to hide his ghastly appearance behind his vast fortune. So by the time people noticed his looks, they’d already been so blinded by his Benjamins that his ugliness became a blur. Which is exactly how he said he wanted it.

Violet’s house was big. The biggest house on her suburban block, to be exact. It boasted a huge great room, six bedrooms, eight bathrooms, an Olympic-size pool, and even a room designated just for gift wrapping. The house had been designed by Jacques Lolique, interior decorator to the stars, which meant that her contemporary décor was nothing short of flawless—as was the house’s appearance, which was constantly being serviced by a small army of workers.

To top it all off, Violet was smart. Smart enough to have earned a doctorate in psychiatry. But rather than open a high-end practice and service the rich and famous, she’d gone with her heart and decided to work with inmates at the local state prison.

Violet Christianson. Beautiful, lucky, and charitable. All the reasons why most people either wanted her, wanted to be her, or simply wanted her to go away.

Buy Links:

eXtasy Books/Devine Destinies

Amazon

Denise N. Wheatley is a lover of romance, happy endings and the art of storytelling. She’s best known for her chick lit novel I WISH I NEVER MET YOU, which was published by Simon & Schuster in 2004. She has since traditionally published several novels and novellas, including contemporary, suspense and paranormal romance. She strives to creative characters who are strong, colorful and relatable, and tell entertaining stories that embody matters of the heart.

Denise received a B.A. in English from the University of Illinois at Chicago, the city where she was born and raised. She’s written screenplays and ghostwritten for some of your faves, and when she’s not sitting behind a computer, you can find her in a movie theater, on a tennis court, watching true crime television or chatting on social media.