Northwest of Normal Blitz and Giveaway!

Title: Northwest of Normal

Author: Blue Jones

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: June 10, 2019

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 62700

Genre: Contemporary, NineStar Press, LGBT, road trip, kidnapping, enemies to lovers, slow burn, gay, romance

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Synopsis

When Ben wakes up from a nap in his Jeep, he is horrified to find two strangers driving it. His car’s been stolen, with him in the back seat. Ben overhears just enough to discover they are brothers on the run for murder. Randall is a thug, delighting in showing off his gun and vowing to use it if Ben tries to escape.

Ben just wants to get out of this alive but soon finds himself fighting a dangerous attraction to Randall’s younger brother Murphy. His tough exterior hides someone sweet, vulnerable, and completely gorgeous. The sexual tension between Ben and Murphy becomes impossible to ignore as they are kept in forced proximity. Bound together, made to share a room and even a bed night after night in increasingly weird motels, they slowly turn from enemies to secret lovers. When Murphy discovers Randall’s true plans for Ben, he must choose between the brother who has always been his everything, and Ben—the man it might be worth losing everything for.

Excerpt

Northwest of Normal
Blue Jones © 2019
All Rights Reserved

Ben woke up facedown in the backseat of his car, one cheek pressed hard against the warm leather seat and a hand hanging down to the bristled mat on the floor. He yawned into his sleeve. He’d driven for hours yesterday and was still exhausted. The last thing he remembered was parking up at the roadside late last night and pulling a blanket and coat over himself for warmth. He’d only intended to take a quick nap, but judging from the bright light, he must have slept until late morning. His groggy mind started to clear, and he turned over onto his back, pushed his coat away from his face, and stretched out.

He gazed up lazily at the roof of the car as a shadow passed over it. Then another. He pushed the coat down farther and squinted at the opposite window. Trees rushed by. It was only then that he noticed the steady purr of the engine and the vibration of the car beneath him. The car was moving. Someone had stolen his Jeep. With him in it.

He was suddenly very awake. He smelled cigarette smoke and stale beer and heard someone breathing in the driver’s seat by his head. As he edged slightly to his right, he saw a stocky man with short hair and a dirty, green shirt sitting on the passenger’s side. Ben slowly lay back down and kept his breathing quiet, even though he felt like his heart was beating out of his chest. For one surreal moment, he wasn’t quite sure what to do. They were the ones who had stolen his car, but it felt somehow impolite to interrupt them.

What was he supposed to say? Should he shout at them to get the hell out? Or should he tell them they could keep the car and politely ask them to let him go? He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth and listened as the man in the passenger seat spoke.

“You chose a decent car, kid. Full tank of gas.”

Ben jolted. For a second, Ben thought the man was talking to him. The guy looked about forty and had a southern accent, local to where they were in Georgia. He leaned forward in his seat as he spoke, like he had a surfeit of energy coiled up.

“Thanks.”

Ben only had that one word to go on, but the man driving sounded younger and calmer, with a softer voice.

There was a long moment of silence before the younger man driving spoke again. “Why’d you have to do it?”

“I did it for you, and you know it,” said the older man sharply.

“Don’t give me that,” said the driver, sounding defensive.

“I told you one day I’d end up killin’ him. Just a matter of time.”

“Never thought you meant it.”

Jesus Christ. Forget confronting them. Ben would curl back up under the blanket and hide. Perhaps he could slip out unseen next time they stopped for gas or food or to kill their next victim. He was about to duck down under his coat when the passenger looked in the rearview mirror—his shocked gaze meeting Ben’s.

“What the hell?”

The driver followed his partner’s gaze and whipped around, shouting in surprise. The passenger reached out one meaty hand to grab the blanket off Ben and grip his wrist tight. His ruddy cheeks contrasted sharply with his pale, wrinkled forehead and the puffy bags under his eyes.

“Nice work, little brother,” the older one mocked loudly. “The one time I let you drive, you pick an occupied car.”

“Shut up, Randall,” said the younger guy.

“If this isn’t the dumbest shit you’ve ever pulled.” Randall threw his hands up in exasperation.

“I said shut up. You didn’t notice him either.”

“Weren’t my job to look.”

The car slowed and pulled to the right.

“What’re you doing?” Randall let go of Ben and reached out, jerking the steering wheel back toward his brother so the car stayed on course.

“Pullin’ over to get rid of this guy.”

“No way, Murphy. I’m not havin’ him run off to the cops. He’s seen my face. Anyway”—Randall turned in his seat and winked at Ben but continued to talk about him as though he weren’t there—“never look a gift horse in the mouth. We can use him.”

“What the hell for?” Murphy gave Ben a worried glance in the mirror before turning his attention back to the road.

“I’ll think of somethin’.”

Shit.

“Why do I always go along with your stupid, dumbass plans?” Murphy muttered.

“Because you love me.” Randall stared at Ben. “What’s your name, kid?”

Ben licked his lips and sat up, pushing the coat off himself and freeing his legs from the blanket. “Benedict…Ben.” He tried hard not to let his voice tremble.

“Why’d you leave your car unlocked, Benedict Ben?” Randall asked.

“I didn’t know I had.”

Had he really done that? If the man was lying and they’d broken into the car, he surely would have been woken by the noise. Maybe he was just that stupid and had left the car unlocked all night. Ben slid to the middle of the backseat where he could see them both—the driver in profile and Randall, who was still staring at Ben. A male voice with an English accent spoke, and all three men jumped.

“Make a left turn at your earliest convenience.”

“Shit, sorry. That’s my GPS. It’s sort of temperamental. Never makes any sense. I don’t even use it,” Ben rambled.

“Switch the fucker off, brother.”

Murphy scrabbled with the buttons with one hand, and it spoke again.

“Please make a U-turn.”

Murphy gave up on the buttons and yanked out a wire. The device bleeped, and its red light went out.

Randall turned sideways in his seat and stared at Ben once more, a smile transforming half his face into deep crow’s feet. He scratched at the light gray stubble covering his chin and jaw.

“Gimme your phone.”

Ben pulled it from his jeans pocket and handed it over.

“Where’s your money at?”

“Uh.” Ben couldn’t think straight. He patted all his pockets and then remembered. “Oh, my wallet’s in the glove compartment.”

Randall yanked it open and went through everything. He rifled through Ben’s collection of napkins and ketchup packets from fast-food restaurants, his bug spray, and mini bottles of hand sanitizer and finally found Ben’s black leather wallet. Ben sighed as he remembered he’d taken out five hundred dollars in cash before he’d set off. More than enough for food, gas, and motel rooms all along his route.

Randall opened the wallet and whistled. “We hit the payload.”

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Meet the Author

Blue Jones is a British author who writes sweet and sexy romance, full of offbeat characters and happy endings. Her books have been published by Dreamspinner Press, NineStar Press, and various UK & US literary journals. When she’s not writing or painting, she loves Twin Peaks, Daniel Clowes comics, and watching Call Me By Your Name on repeat.

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The Queen of Rhodia Blitz and Giveaway!

Title: The Queen of Rhodia

Series: Tales of Inthya, Book THree

Author: Effie Calvin

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: May 27, 2019

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 80100

Genre: Fantasy, LGBT, fantasy, pansexual, dragons, mages, magic users, family drama, new adult

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Synopsis

It has been sixteen months since Princess Esofi arrived in Ieflaria, and eight since her marriage to Crown Princess Adale. The princesses have a peaceful life together, preparing to become co-regents and raising their baby dragon, Carinth.

Their peace is shattered when Esofi’s mother, Queen Gaelle of Rhodia, arrives in Birsgen. She has heard about Carinth and believes that she deserves custody of him due to her greater devotion to Talcia, Goddess of Magic.

Adale and Esofi have no intention of giving up their son, but Gaelle is impossible to reason with—and there’s no telling what lengths she’ll go to in order to get what she wants.

Excerpt

The Queen of Rhodia
Effie Calvin © 2019
All Rights Reserved

Prologue
GAELLE

Queen Gaelle of Rhodia—Great Mother of the Silence of the Moon, rightful owner of half of her country’s marble quarries, and wife of King Alain—regretted that she was not a dragon.

It was not just for the obvious reasons: the terrifying size, the ivory teeth, the breath of fire, and the gift of flight—though that certainly would have been reason enough. What Gaelle really envied was the dragons’ abilities to lay eggs. What she would not give to be able to eject a child from her body and go about her business while it lay in a fireplace for a year!

But it was not meant to be. And so, grudgingly, Gaelle had her children in the ordinary way. Her only comfort was the fact that she could hand them off to the nursemaids until they were old enough to hold an intelligent conversation.

Her eldest son was Gael, crown prince and heir…and the only one of her six children whose name she could recall at any given moment. Gaelle disliked children greatly, but as Gael grew into manhood, his temperament pleased her. He was strong and solemn, as unshakable as a mountain. Like his father, he was blessed by Iolar, with a knack for detecting trickery, and had discovered every hidden passageway in the palace by the time he was ten years old. He would make an acceptable king someday.

Next was Eloisa, firstborn daughter. She had Talcia’s magic, as any princess of Rhodia should. Like her brother and her father, she was even in temperament, with none of the shrieking rage that Gaelle was sometimes known for, though that was not to say she was not capable of vengeance. When it came to her blessing, her self-control was excellent and her magic a sparkling shade of ruby. If, Talcia forbid, something should happen to Gael, she would be a suitable replacement. If not, she could be married to another member of the Rhodian nobility for the sake of strengthening alliances.

Eloisa had been followed by Matheo, second-born son. Gaelle could see no reason that her other children should not be regents. They could spread her power across Thiyra, and perhaps further still. When Matheo was only a year, she signed an agreement that he would wed the three-year-old princess of Dossau when the two came of age. Matheo was educated in the ways of Dossau as well as Rhodia to prepare him for the foreign throne he would ascend someday.

Next came Esolene, similarly promised to the prince of Eskas and educated appropriately. Her blessing, the color of a sunset, was not as powerful as Eloisa’s, and so Gaelle would not be sad to send her off. Esolene was thin and fragile, with little outward passion. Gaelle had been disappointed at first, but then out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed things that piqued her interest—a tongue like a driver’s whip, little fingers that pinched and twisted, a foot that occasionally stuck out at just the right angle to send sisters or servants sprawling—and all this hidden behind a watery smile.

The following year brought Esofi. Gaelle sent ambassadors to Xytae, to ask the Empress Irianthe if she would agree to a betrothal between Esofi and her son, Ionnes. But the Empress rejected the proposal, citing that the age difference between their children was irreconcilable. So instead Esofi was betrothed to Albion, Crown Prince of Ieflaria. Esofi had a placidity that bordered on laziness, but her mastery of magic came to her as easily as breathing, and she could perform maneuvers that the older princesses could not, even with a half-eaten biscuit clutched in one chubby hand. She killed her first wyvern at age eight, her first elf at fourteen.

And last of all was Esybele. All babies were the same in Gaelle’s eyes, shrieking and squalling, but this one seemed to do more of that than most. If not for the nursemaids, Gaelle might have put a pillow over the girl’s face and let Adranus sort her out. When Esybele learned to speak, she had a carefully chosen insult for everyone who crossed her path. Furthermore, Esybele was not above throwing herself on the ground and beating her fists if she felt she had been wronged, screams ringing through the marble halls.

Gaelle frequently thought of the Empress of Anora, across the sea. It was said she not only had two husbands, but also three wives. That, Gaelle supposed, must have made the production of heirs terribly convenient. She could not imagine how many alliances she could secure with that many offspring! She had never received a satisfying answer to that question and suspected the priestesses did not know.

Thiyra was a small continent, a stony beacon in the midst of grey seas. It could take months, even years, for news of other lands to reach it. So the tale of what had happened in Ieflaria did not reach her until Duchess Tiphanie’s daughter arrived back home.

On that evening, Gaelle stood before a fireplace with a glass of red wine, wishing she was out with the mages hunting elves who strayed too far from their own shores instead of trapped in her own palace with reports to review.

When Tiphanie knocked at the door, Gaelle could not even bring herself to pretend to be irritated by the distraction. She watched as the duchess entered the room, followed by a younger woman.

“My Queen,” said Tiphanie with a curtsy. “Forgive the intrusion at this hour, but my daughter has just returned with…shocking news.”

Gaelle turned her gaze to the girl, who was still dressed in her travelling clothes, and found she could recall nothing about her.

“Lexandrie accompanied Princess Esofi to Ieflaria,” said Tiphanie helpfully.

“Ah, her,” said Gaelle, only partially enlightened. “Yes.”

Tiphanie touched a hand to Lexandrie’s shoulder. “Go on,” she said. “Tell her majesty exactly what you told me.”

Lexandrie met Gaelle’s eyes. “Princess Esofi has a son.”

Gaelle pursed her lips, somewhat disappointed. After an introduction like that, she had been anticipating something interesting. “Is that all?”

“No,” said Tiphanie. “Perhaps…perhaps my queen ought to sit down.”

“Be silent,” commanded Gaelle. Then she looked at Lexandrie. “Continue.”

“He is not a child,” Lexandrie glanced at her mother anxiously, who only gave a nod of encouragement. “That is…Esofi’s son…he is a dragon.”

The wineglass fell out of Gaelle’s hand and shattered on the floor.

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Meet the Author

Effie is definitely a human being with all her own skin, and not a robot. She writes science fiction and fantasy novels and lives with her cat in the greater Philadelphia area.

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The Life Siphon Release Blitz

Title: The Life Siphon

Series: The Life Siphon, Book One

Author: Kathryn Sommerlot

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: May 20, 2019

Heat Level: 1 - No Sex

Pairing: No Romance

Length: 85500

Genre: Fantasy, LGBT, fantasy, royalty, magic users, mage battles, action/adventure, family drama, kidnapping, HFN

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Synopsis

A magical energy drain is siphoning life from the land and leaving a twisted, decaying wasteland in its wake.

Safely isolated in his forest home, Tatsu wants nothing to do with the drain or the other citizens in the kingdom of Chayd. The only people he cares about are his childhood friend and her strangely prophetic sister, but there’s no avoiding the threat once Tatsu is arrested and taken to the capital. The Queen of Chayd offers Tatsu his freedom—but only in exchange for sneaking into the neighboring kingdom of Runon and stealing whatever is powering the siphon.

Ravenous trees and corrupted predators lie between Tatsu’s team and their prize, but the drain’s destruction is nothing compared to Runon’s high mages, determined to protect their weapon. As the truth of the siphon’s power reveals itself, Tatsu faces an impossible question: how much is he willing to sacrifice to save one man’s life?

What if that one man could destroy everything?

Excerpt

The Life Siphon
Kathryn Sommerlot © 2019
All Rights Reserved

The knock on the door came just as he finished refilling his quiver. Tatsu froze, blood running cold. He put his hand on the leather pack for stability before he was able to oust the lump in his throat. His house was too remote for anyone to simply stumble across it, so whoever it was had meant to arrive. As the air in the small house hung still and heavy, his hand slid to the uneven table with the broken leg he’d never gotten around to fixing, fingers finding the familiar and well-worn hilt of his skinning knife. It was sharp enough to take apart a jack hare. He hoped it was also keen enough to defend himself.

He took a few steps toward the noise, his feet unconsciously finding their way around the long, loose floorboards. He was almost to the door when the knocking came again, impatient. The new round of knocking was paired with a female voice. “Tatsu?”

The anxiety left his body in a rush that felt like the hot sting of Chayd’s summer against his skin, months too early.

“Alesh?” he replied and opened the creaking wooden door. “What are you doing here?”

His first thought was that she had to be injured, sick, or something worse. After all, it had been a long time since she’d last bothered to travel all the way to his hut in the inner woods. But she appeared to be in one piece, her hair worked back into three simple plaits, and she seemed no worse for the wear. Irritation surged through his chest. Knowing she’d been fine but not taking the time to visit made her sudden reappearance cut deeper.

“Please,” she said and, at once, he knew. Alesh wouldn’t journey to his doorstep for any other reason. She needed a favor.

He had half a mind to shut the door right in her face, his insides still untangling themselves from tight knots, but movement flashed behind Alesh’s shoulder. Ral lingered behind her, digging in the constant scourge of weeds growing in front of the house without any care to the dirt embedding itself under her nails. The young woman was laughing at Tatsu’s wildflowers. Her light-brown dress fabric, marking her as enol, or baseborn, was already streaked with smears of mud.

He didn’t close the door, but he didn’t edge it open any further either.

“Hear me out.” Alesh had the good grace to flinch when Tatsu snorted.

“Isn’t that all I’ve ever done?” he asked.

“I need your help.”

Help was not a word that came easily from her, though Tatsu guessed they had wildly different definitions of it. Help to him meant aid and a friendly ear and someone present, offering suggestions and finding solutions. Help was nothing Alesh had ever allowed him to do.

“The last time I tried to help you…” he warned.

She slammed the door so forcefully the ripples shook Tatsu’s arm. “Listen, this isn’t for me, you know. I can’t leave her alone, and I don’t have anyone else.”

Tatsu peered over Alesh’s shoulder again. Ral had gotten a handful of the reedy flowers and pulled them up by the roots, laughing with delight at the white tendrils she’d exposed. When Tatsu’s gaze flickered back to Alesh, her dark eyes were focused on him, narrow and unflinching.

“Please.” The second time sounded much less like a request. She knew she’d already won him over.

Tatsu sighed and called out, “Ral, would you like to come in?”

Ral complied, though she left a trail of dirt behind her as her movement loosened the clumps that clung to her skirt. She might have gotten taller. She was taller than Tatsu, at least. She seemed happy in the house, and Tatsu tried to keep half his attention on her as she moved around, in case she got her hands on the extra snares in the corners. If he had known a houseguest would show up, he might’ve done something with the place.

“It’s only for a few days,” Alesh promised. “This is the safest place I could think of. I mean, who’s going to come way out here? I have some business I need to attend to—”

“Other people’s possessions, you mean? Or is there a new line of criminal mischief you’ve found that pays better?”

She frowned. “That’s not fair at all, and you know it.”

“Do I?” Tatsu asked. “How could I know it, when the last time you bothered to show up here and tell me you were still alive, the first snow had just fallen?”

Her face pinched tight, mouth hard, before it slackened again in defeat. She sighed, equal parts exasperation and resignation, and ran a hand through the few dark strands of hair hanging wild and wavy around her face, too short to plait back.

“Look, can you…spare me the whole spiel?” Her gaze sank and stayed on a spot near the entrance where the beams of the house were embedded deep in the dirt. “I promise you can lecture me all you want when I come back to pick her up. But for now, I really need to go, and I don’t have time for this.”

Tatsu leaned against the door. Behind him, Ral had discovered the utensils for cooking and was excitedly going through them all, copper spoons and mugs clanging against one another. Alesh stood slumped on his doorstep as if the weight of the world hung on her shoulders, hobbling her. She seemed smaller than the last time he’d seen her, under the same sky and a moon tinged with red. He thought about saying something, something like stay, but the times they’d shared had long since passed between them. There had been too many winters and too many summers. The word died on his tongue.

Instead, he nodded. “Fine. But only for a few days.”

“Thank you.” Alesh’s mouth twisted up into a rueful smile. “She’s learned to count to a hundred—you should ask her to demonstrate for you. She loves showing it off.”

Behind them, as if in agreement, Ral banged Tatsu’s ladle against his big iron pot, the sharp crash echoing.

“I will,” Tatsu replied.

Alesh tucked a bit of unruly hair behind one ear. “It won’t be long.”

“No,” Tatsu agreed. “It never is.”

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Meet the Author

Kathryn Sommerlot is a coffee addict and craft beer enthusiast with a detailed zombie apocalypse plan. Originally from the cornfields of the American Midwest, she got her master’s degree and moved across the ocean to become a high school teacher in Japan. When she isn’t wrangling teenage brains into critical thinking, she spends her time writing, crocheting, and hiking with her husband. She enjoys LGBTQ fiction, but she is particularly interested in genre fiction that just happens to have LGBTQ protagonists. Find out more on her Website.

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