Daily Archives: 06/05/2016

EXCERPT REVEAL – The Spiral Down by Aly Martinez

  the spiral down excerpt reveal

Chapter One

Henry

Rain fell from the sky in sheets. It’d only been drizzling when I’d boarded my private jet not even a half hour earlier.  Now, I could barely see the airport outside my window.

“No, babe, it’s not a big deal. I just would have liked to see you while I was in town. It’s been a while. That’s all,” I said, shifting the phone to my other hand.

Dipping my finger into the empty glass that had once been the home of gin and tonic number three, I stared at the melting ice as I stirred it in a circle.

Her raspy, sleep-filled voice no longer sounded anything like that of the little girl I’d met when she was only five. But, after sixteen years, Robin Clark no longer resembled that child, either.

 “I swear I thought the shower was next weekend. I got my dates mixed up. I’m so sorry,” she lied. She did that a lot.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s cool,” I said, pretending to believe her.  I did that a lot.

And it killed us both a little more every time I did.

“I love you, Cookie,” she whispered.

I wasn’t sure if that was a lie or not anymore.

But I knew one thing was true. “I love you too, kid.”

We sat in silence for several seconds, neither of us willing to hang up. However, neither of us knew what else to say.  A million words hung between us, but none of them would solve anything. God knows I’d said them all over the last five years. Still, she’d never heard any of them. Not really.

With my heart physically aching, I swallowed hard and bit the bullet. “Listen, I’m about to take off. I’ll be in L.A. for a show next week. Why don’t you come and we’ll hang out for a few days?” It was an honest invitation.

I didn’t receive an honest response.

“I’ll be there!”

“I’ll have Carter set it up. I’ll come by tomorrow afternoon and give you the details. I can’t stay long, but maybe a quick dinner or something.”

“Perfect.”

We didn’t linger with drawn-out goodbyes. A few seconds later, my phone was off and I was once again gazing out at the pouring rain, wishing I were anywhere but on a plane.

Carter, my head of security, settled in the seat beside me and opened the latest issue of Sports Illustrated magazine.

My stomach clenched when the plane jerked as we backed away from the gate.

“Tell Levee I love her, okay?” I said to Carter without dragging my eyes off the terminal disappearing in the distance.

“Here we go,” he mumbled, closing his magazine and turning his attention my way. 

“Can you do me a huge favor? If I don’t survive, make sure it’s open casket and I’m wearing—”

“Blue. It makes your eyes pop,” he finished for me.

“Right, but—”

“But your eyes will be closed, so you should wear green instead. It looks better with your complexion.”

“Yes, but—”

“But your complexion will be ashy since you’re dead and all. So let’s just go with a sleek, black suit. It’s timeless.” He arched an incredulous eyebrow.

Lifting my glass in the air, I rattled the ice at Susan, my personal flight attendant. She was busy buckling herself in for takeoff, but she flashed me a warm, motherly smile in acknowledgement that she had seen me.

“So maybe we’ve had this conversation before,” I told Carter.

He rolled his eyes. “Every time we fly.”

I huffed but didn’t bother explaining. He knew exactly how terrified of flying I was. He’d been there the day it’d all begun.

You would have thought that, after having traveled the globe for years, a simple two-hour flight wouldn’t have been a problem. My racing heart and sweating palms argued otherwise.

In the eight years since my career had taken off, I’d gone from a somewhat-popular YouTube personality to the king of the music industry when Levee and I’d released our self-produced debut album, Dichotomy. Filled with half of her tracks and half of mine, it had soared to the top of the charts. There hadn’t been a radio station in the country not playing our music. In a matter of weeks, our careers had exploded, which had forced the whole world to take notice.

The following years had been a whirlwind. Grammys, record deals, fame, fortune, security. I could have retired six months after I’d started and never wanted for anything again. Well, that’s not totally true. The one thing I really wanted could never be bought.

I wasn’t even sure it could be earned.

It was something so rare that I feared it didn’t actually exist.

Love. Unconditional. Unwavering. Eternal. Love.

I gave that to exactly two people in my life.

I only received it in return from one.

I’d been born a gay man. There had never been a moment in my life when I’d been remotely sexually attracted to women. If I had been, I would have married Levee Williams the second I’d laid eyes on her. Because I’d known, just that fast, that she was going to be the best thing that ever happened to me.

And she had been.

Riding the state’s dime to college, I’d branched out on my own at eighteen, armed with nothing more than a guitar and a headful of mediocre lyrics.

In a lot of ways, alone felt better.

In most, it felt worse.

Luckily, within weeks of starting my new adventure, I met Levee at a local bar on amateur night.  She wouldn’t admit it, but she’d been attempting to hit on me when she’d first strutted over after her set. I understood how she’d misinterpreted my intense stare while she’d performed. But, when her kind, brown eyes lit as our gazes met, I knew, straight or gay, I needed to meet that woman. That night, over beers and more laughs than I had ever experienced, we bonded over music. Less than two weeks later, I moved in with her. Part of my heart bound to hers in a way I had never felt before. With no parents, no siblings, not even a foster mother who’d taken a liking to me, I’d spent most of my life searching for the sense of belonging she gave me only minutes after we’d met.

I fiercely loved that crazy woman. And it amplified as the years passed when I realized the feeling was mutual.

Levee was more than my best friend. Outside of Robin, she was the only family I’d ever had.

Which really meant she was the only true family I’d ever had.

I’d heard that God wasn’t exactly stoked about homosexuality, but come on. What kind of a masochist sends a gay man his soul mate with boobs and a vagina?

Especially considering she was now married to Sam Rivers and six months pregnant with his baby girl.

I’d tried dating over the years, but the few men I’d found interesting had found me temporary. I was good for a night of fulfilling their secret fantasies. But that’s where it ended. I guess that’s what I got for having a thing for straight men. I couldn’t stop myself though. It wasn’t the sex. As a celebrity, I had plenty of men vying for my attention. Ass was easy to come by. But the high that came from being with a straight man, knowing he was going against his own genetic coding just for one night with me, made every minute of the pain worth it.

Those forbidden encounters were a drug.

And I was a junkie.

The hunt of finding that perfect blend of brute masculinity and subtle curiosity.

The chase of teasing and taunting, ramping them up until they were unable to get my clothes off fast enough.

The victory as they finally broke, giving in to the one desire they had never considered before they’d landed in my crosshairs.

That was the high.

But it was always followed by the crash.

Including the inevitable spiral down when they realized what they had done.

Some freaked, slinging insults and threats at me as if I had somehow magically cast a spell and charmed their dick into my mouth. Some wore their shame on their faces, gathering their clothes and rushing from the room without a backward glance. Some felt the high too and came back for seconds, desperate for more.

 But they all left, one way or another.

Always.

Once I’d accepted that those encounters were nothing more than a fix, it’d stopped gutting me when they walked away.

While I’d had my fair share of partners, I was far from a whore. I didn’t launch my expert skills of seduction on any straight man who crossed my path. That would have been a wasted effort. I was good; don’t doubt that. But men didn’t just fall naked into my bed, begging for me to take their bodies in ways they would never forget. At least, not the men I wanted. It took patience and dedication to achieve my high.

I spent two years working my way into a certain NFL quarterback’s bedroom.

Worth every single second.

Or so I’d told myself as I’d felt another piece of my soul break away when he’d dismissed me from his life the very next day.

Maybe I was a whore after all.

But I’d tried the relationship thing and it just didn’t work.

I’d given my heart to a man once. He’d given it back a month later.

I was devastated when he left. I was ruined when, two months later, I watched him marry a woman I knew he didn’t love.

No. That’s not true. It was me he didn’t love.

That was a common theme in my life and exactly why I was so successful as a singer-songwriter. It was hard to be all “woe is me” with millions of adoring fans acting as if you were a god who’d returned to Earth.

While Levee struggled with the weight of her fame, I flourished under the spotlight. I was alive on stage. And, with no one waiting for me at home, I’d devoted years to touring. The roar of the crowd fueled my happiness to the point I feared the day when I would have to settle down.

And, right then, I was white-knuckle gripping the armrest as the jet accelerated down the runway before lifting into the sky.

“Shit. Shit. Shit,” I mumbled as my stomach dropped when the landing gear loudly locked into place.

“You’re fine,” Carter said absently.

I was absolutely not fine.

“I’m gonna puke,” I groaned.

His eyes never lifted from the pages of his magazine as he shook a vomit bag open and passed it my way.

“Thanks,” I replied, disingenuous.

“No problem. Now, take a deep breath and try to relax. We’ll be there in no time.”

As the plane leveled out, so did my stomach.

Blowing out a loud breath, I dropped my head back against the headrest. “We should’ve taken the bus.”

“There wasn’t time for the bus. Your ass is supposed to be on stage in four hours. What we shouldn’t have done is drive to San Francisco in the first place.”

“We’ve been over this. I wasn’t missing her baby shower.”

He grumbled, adjusting in his seat. “I think Levee and Sam would’ve understood.”

I narrowed my eyes and turned to glare at him. “Don’t even start with me. They would have understood perfectly. But that doesn’t change the fact that I wanted to be there.”

My tour had been scheduled over a year in advance. Tickets had sold out in less than five minutes. But none of that had mattered when I’d found out that Sam’s mom was planning a baby shower for Levee. I had very few priorities in life. However, being there for her was always one of them.

Susan approached my seat. “Can I get you another drink, Mr. Alexander?”

“Thank God. Yes!” I lifted my glass in her direction.

“No problem.” Her eyes nervously shifted to Carter. “A word?”

Carter unbuckled his seat belt and moved past me. They huddled together behind the small bar in the front, but my focus was on the mini bottle of gin she was emptying in my glass. I was well aware that I needed to slow down. Drunk on stage wasn’t exactly a novelty in my business, but slurring my words and stumbling over lyrics was a deal breaker for me.

Just as I was about to tell her to hold off on the drink, the plane suddenly jerked and my nerves skyrocketed all over again. I sucked in a sharp breath, and both sets of their concerned eyes jumped to mine.

Yep. I can sober up later.

Snapping my fingers, I ordered, “Drink.”

Susan smiled compassionately before shooting an impatient glare at Carter. I would have cared what they were whispering about if I hadn’t been about to pull an Incredible Hulk and peel out of my own skin.

“I’ll tell him,” Carter relented with a sigh, tagging the drink from her hand and then moving in my direction.

With shaking hands, I took the glass and tipped it back for a sip, relishing in the distracting burn in my chest.

“Tell me what?” I asked, settling the glass in a cup holder.

He motioned his chin at my drink. “Why don’t you finish that first?”

The clear liquid sloshed as the plane suddenly banked to the left.

“Excellent idea,” I said.

Carter’s gaze once again lifted to Susan’s in a silent conversation.

Her lips thinned.

Throwing the rest of my drink back, I bounced my attention back and forth between the two of them. Susan looked downright nervous, and Carter appeared more than a little annoyed.

“Okay, what the hell is going on with you two?” I demanded.

“The pilot is having some chest pains,” he announced.

Suddenly, there wasn’t enough gin in the world.

Fighting to make my seat belt tighter, I gasped, “Did he pass out? Are we going down?”

Carter’s expression remained impassive.

“Of course not!” Susan cut in.

Her reassurance did little to comfort me, because whatever magical mechanism kept the cabin pressurized suddenly failed. If the pain in my lungs was any indication, there was absolutely no oxygen left on that plane. We were all going to die.

Carter’s heavy paw landed on my back, pushing my torso down so my head was between my knees.

“Calm down and breathe. We aren’t going down. The copilot is taking us back to San Francisco. We’ll be on the ground in no time.”

The vise on my lungs didn’t loosen.

Still hunched over, I nodded, having heard his words but finding no relief in them.

Susan kneeled beside me. “It’s okay, Henry. Co-captain Baez is an amazing pilot. You won’t even know the difference.” She rubbed my back.

Embarrassment mingled with the worthlessness I felt in that moment. But I was helpless to reel it in. My body was out of control. I was left as nothing more than a marionette being held captive by my fear.

Reaching out, I gripped Carter’s thigh desperately searching for a way to ground myself.

The man was a beast. At six-five and well over three hundred pounds, with short, black hair and nearly black eyes, he looked every bit of the scary bodyguard I’d hired him to be. There wasn’t anything soft or gentle about him. However, he’d been with me for almost a decade. He knew how I worked, even if he didn’t like it.

He patted my hand, and then I heard the crinkle of his magazine opening.

“You’ll be fine,” he said.

I wasn’t sure he was right.

 


the spiral down coming soon

Henry Alexander’s story will arrive on May 17th in
The Spiral Down by Aly Martinez

Add this M/M Romance to your TBR list on Goodreads!

 



the spiral down cover

RELEASE DATE: May 17th

Blurb

I was afraid to fly.

He made me soar.

After years of climbing the ladder of success in the music industry, I finally had everything I could want.

Yet I still found myself wandering through life alone.

Captain Evan Roth was the one man I never saw coming.

Tall, dark, mysterious… Straight.

We were both damaged beyond repair and searching for something so elusive we weren’t sure it even existed.

But, when two broken souls collide in midair, falling is a given.

I just never expected to crave the spiral down.


Muscled male model showing his back

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Strong Athletic Man Fitness Model Torso showing six pack abs. isolated on black background

Young handsome macho man with muscle abdominal and open jacket sitting in armchair.

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About the Author:aly martinez

Born and raised in Savannah, Georgia, Aly Martinez is a stay-at-home mom to four crazy kids under the age of five, including a set of twins. Currently living in South Carolina, she passes what little free time she has reading anything and everything she can get her hands on, preferably with a glass of wine at her side.

After some encouragement from her friends, Aly decided to add “Author” to her ever-growing list of job titles. Five books later, she shows no signs of slowing. So grab a glass of Chardonnay, or a bottle if you’re hanging out with Aly, and join her aboard the crazy train she calls life.

 

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads


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SALE BLITZ – Taste of Summer by Beverly Preston

 taste of summer cover

Laugh, cry and fall in love in the newest  standalone within the

Mathews Family Series.

NOW ONLY $0.99

Amazon US:

Barnes & Noble:


Excerpt

Carrie Ann tugged the earbud free from her ear, tossing the handsome young man a small smile. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you. What did you say?”

He crossed a lanky somewhat defined arm in front of her, casually gripping the handlebar of her bike. “I said, you must be exhausted—” Before she could reply he continued, “—from running through my mind all day.”

Surely she must’ve heard him incorrectly. He was probably fifteen at most sporting a baby face and a patch of ten whiskers on his chin. Her brows tucked into a furrow. “Excuse me?”

A dose of youthful overconfidence drifted over his mouth in a sharp grin. “I seem to have forgotten my number. Can I have yours?”

“My phone number?” Carrie Ann scanned the near vicinity, row after row of workout equipment, for the practical jokester responsible for the madness. “Ha ha. Very funny. Who put you up to this?”

Her amusement only encouraged the boy’s macho bravado. “No one put me up to anything. I need a date. I just got into LA and I’ve got this Red Carpet event—”

“A date?” she scoffed at the ludicrous suggestion. Though she looked young for her age, Carrie Ann was still all of thirty-four years old.

“Yeah, you know. A date. You, me, hundreds of fans screaming as we stroll down the Red Carpet.” His voice cracked emphasizing the words Red Carpet…for the second time. A self-absorbed twinkle gleamed in his brown eyes as if he expected her to melt and drop to her knees right there in the gym.

“Kid, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

“I’m totally serious. My uncle has this movie premier and I can’t just bring anyone.” A chunk of blond hair fell on his forehead and he flipped his head to the side. My date needs to be…hot, and well, you’re the hottest girl I’ve seen since I got to LA.”

She sneered at the absurdity. Silliness turned to annoyance. Carrie Ann switched gyms a few months back, paying out the nose to invest in her fitness and more importantly her privacy. Her last gym was more crowded than a cattle call casting session.

Carrie Ann rolled her eyes. She moved around him, gathering her workout towel and reaching for her bag. “Look kid, you seem real sweet, but—“

“You’re right about one thing.” A familiar voice, deep and perfectly modulated, approached from behind. “She is the most beautiful woman you’ll ever lay eyes on. But, you’re reaching for the stars with this one, Drew. She’s a heartbreaker.”

An ice cold tickle ascended up her spine raising the hair on the back of her neck. Her head snapped, glancing over her shoulder, colliding with a pair of rich amber eyes from her past. Without breaking eye contact, Ryan Summer strolled right into her personal space sporting athletic shorts, a fitted muscle shirt and a killer smile.

Nowadays, most people knew the Hollywood heartthrob as Ryan. Just Ryan. No last name needed. But after nearly a decade of blockbuster hits and infamous relationships that skyrocketed his success into superstardom, to Carrie Ann, he was still just Summer. Her old college flame.

“Funny, I could say the same about you,” she countered his jab, marshalling a bit of annoyance in her tone to combat the rush of heat spreading to her already pink cheeks.

A sexy smile caught the curve of his wide firm mouth. “Hello, Red.”

“Hello, Summer.” Carrie Ann tossed a trivial nod toward the teenager. “Who’s this? Your new apprentice?”

“Apprentice?” Moving a step closer, he dragged his fingers through the short cropped layers of sandy blond hair. “This is Mark’s boy. Do you remember my nephew, Drew?”

“Your brother’s boy?” she questioned in surprise. Avoiding the view of his bicep curling into the size of a softball, Carrie Ann ran a quick scan over the young man at his side. “Whoa, you had to be four or five years old the last time I saw you.”

“I don’t remember meeting you.” Drew’s eyes flickered with bemusement and optimism.

She extended her hand. “I’m Carrie Ann. I knew you when you were—“

“You’re Carrie Ann? The Carrie Ann?” The boy spun toward his uncle, his blue eyes broadened in disbelief. “The One?”

Her stomach twisted hearing the title. A flash of perspiration instantaneously flooded her palms. Before she had time to renege on the clammy greeting, Drew clasped her hand, giving it a polite shake.

A low rumble of laughter simmered in Summer’s chest and a rosy shade of red burnished high on the bridge of his nose. He nodded, “This is The Carrie Ann. The One who got away.”

No matter how many years had passed, it never got any easier to see him. Each time she did, she suddenly found it harder to breath.

The pounding of her heart quickened as her gaze slipped over his rugged well-defined features. A three day scruff accentuated the slight dimple at the bottom of his chin.  The disheveled layers of hair were wet from exertion near his temple and nape. Time had been very good to him.

She felt the warmth of his hand close around the back of her bare arm. The early morning stubble of his beard brushed against her cheek as he leaned closer pressing a small kiss near her temple. Carrie Ann squirmed at his nearness, ducking to the side attempting to put some space between them.

“I’m…I’m all sweaty,” she insisted breathily.

“It’s okay,” he murmured softly in her ear. The heat of his breath brought chill bumps to the damp skin near her neck. “I remember enjoying you all sweaty.”

Ryan’s golden eyes locked onto hers, anchoring her feet to the floor. The penetration of his stare momentarily tied her tongue in a knot, turning the awkward moment even more difficult. Carrie Ann hadn’t bumped into Ryan in at least three years and she hadn’t seen him covered in sweat in ten. An image of him, gloriously naked, flashed in her mind and her thighs. Frustration mounted as her body willingly betrayed her.

Carrie Ann’s jaw set rigid contemplating the idea of flipping off her hooha for its insubordination.

“That was a long time ago,” she snipped abruptly.

“Seems like only yesterday to me.”


Series Reading Order

No More Wasted Time (bk 1)

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1ujwsOJ

B&N: http://bit.ly/XXj8Br

Shayla’s Story (bk 2)

Amazon: http://amzn.to/Y34mt7

B&N: http://bit.ly/1oh4VGM

The Perfect Someday (bk 3)

 Amazon: http://amzn.to/1qrsCM5

B&N: http://bit.ly/1rmvgrD

Surviving Broken (bk 4)

Amazon:http://amzn.to/Zc1xHD

B & N: http://bit.ly/1t9I8OE


taste of summer 3

taste of summer 5

taste of summer 7

taste of summer 9

taste of summer 10


About the Author:BEVERLY PRESTON

#1 Bestselling Author, Beverly Preston has been a stay at home mom for 21 years, although she prefers the title Domestic Engineer. Along the way, Beverly worked side by side with her husband Don, the love of her life, designing, building and selling custom homes. As her children begin to venture out on their own, she’s left to shed a tear—for a minute—wonder what’s next in life, and embrace the feeling of empowerment that surely must’ve been wrapped in a present she received on her fortieth birthday.

If Beverly isn’t at home riding her spin bike, you’ll find her spinning richly emotional and sinfully sexy romance stories.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Pinterest


 

BLOG TOUR ~ The Junkyard Boys by SH Richardson

 

Title: The Junkyard Boys 

Author: SH Richardson

Genre : Contemporary Romance
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
Range Reardon

Filth, dirt, and hunger. That was my life before I stumbled across a junkyard with a closed sign out front when I was twelve years old. Born the son of a drunk and left to fend for myself, I was lost until I was found. Buck Calhoun was an ex-biker struggling with his own demons from his past. He didn’t want me, but I needed him. My persistence paid off and I became one of his junkyard boys. He taught me how to be a man, how to fight, how to survive. He became my mentor, my friend, and my father. He gave us all he could until he had nothing else to offer.

Clover Benjamin

A black sheep, an outcast, and a joke. I don’t fit into my perfect family. They’re a bevy of beauties with outgoing personalities and bubbly personas. I on the other hand, don’t look like them, speak like them, or act like them, but I’ll always be me. I spend my evenings watching classic television while working towards buying my own car. I’m boring. I don’t date, nor do I socialize. That all changes when a sexy Adonis saves me from certain death at the hands of a mutant insect. His masculine beauty takes my breath away, but I know I’ll bore him. The only problem is, he won’t take no for an answer. 

New-found love is tested and all hell breaks loose when a stranger from Buck’s past brings danger to the junkyard, threatening the only home they’ve ever known.



 



 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 

 

SH Richardson lives in Virginia Beach with her husband of twenty years and two children, ages eighteen and twenty four. She graduated from SUNY Plattsburgh with a BS in Criminal Justice with a minor in Sociology. She has five dogs and loves taking long walks on the beach, reading romance novels, and traveling.
 
 
 

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