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Happy Friday everyone! I hope you like Alan and Jon, because you’ll get to meet them again today. This is part six, and it contains chicken soup and more medicines than you can possibly need. And here’s a virtual kiss to my friend Kris for coming up with that particular idea 😘😘

(Parts 1234, and 5 of Alan and Jon’s story if you need to get up to speed.)

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Was it possible to become addicted to someone after only a couple weeks?

I hadn’t seen Jon in forever—three days counted as forever, it did—and I suffered from severe snuggle withdrawals. He’d been away on a business trip and was expected home tonight. As soon as I was released from my prison, eh work, I was storming over there. I needed warm, strong Jon-hugs right this second. Preferably yesterday, dammit.

As six o’clock drew close, I got more and more restless. The contents of my screen blurred together, my gaze wandered, and I glanced at the time once every minute.

When my phone buzzed with a message, I did my special butt wiggle dance on my chair. I grabbed my phone and pulled up the text.

Home with a cold and fever. Gotta cancel. Miss u. xoxo

My smile turned into a frown and my fingers flew over my screen as I typed out a reply.

Oh no! I’m so sorry. Do you need anything?

Thank u, but I’m fine. Don’t want u 2 catch anything.

I wanted to object and to rush over there and smother him in care, but I didn’t want to scare him off. I needed to respect his wishes.


Deep, deep sigh.

After texting him a ‘get well soon’ message, I collected my things and left the office. Now that I didn’t have a warm embrace to hurry home to, I took a detour to the grocery store. Uninspired, I picked up the things I needed. Cereal. Fruit. Milk. Boring boring boring.

As I passed by the chicken, I was struck by an idea that erased the grumpiness from my face. I hustled through the aisles, threw the additional stuff I needed in my cart, made a detour to the drugstore, and rushed home to execute my plan.

A couple hours later, I sent a text to Jon.

I know you said not to come over, but I have something for you. Can I leave it on your porch?

I stood by my kitchen window, bouncing on my feet as if someone had attached a spring to them, and stared at his house, waiting for him to reply to my message. Maybe, I should just sneak over there and leave it outside his door and go back home. No, that would be a stupid idea if he was asleep and the neighborhood cat found it.

Oh shit. That was it. He was probably already asleep. Unless I woke him up with my text. Should I text him and apologize for disturbing him? Should I—

Buzz buzz.

I picked up my phone at warp speed and opened his reply.

Don’t b silly. Come over.

After shoving down the phone in my back pocket, I slung the stuffed tote bag over my shoulder, grabbed the huge pot, and made my way out. I kicked the door shut behind me, and when I was halfway across the street, Jon stepped out on the porch.

He was wrapped in a soft-looking knitted blanket, his eyes that usually sparkled with life were dull and glossy, and his cheeks were flushed.

“You should be in bed,” I called out to him with a scowl on my face. I increased my speed and soon I reached his side. “Get inside right this instant!”

“Someone wanted to give me something,” he said with a fond smile.

“I know. Someone—” I spit out the word in air-quotes, “clearly didn’t know what they were talking about. Get in.” I flicked my head to the open door.

I followed him inside, kicked off my shoes, and carried my things into the kitchen. He trailed after me.

“What is all this?” he asked.

After I’d put down everything, I turned to him. I touched my wrist against his forehead. He was warm. I frowned.

Jon chuckled. “What’s the prognosis, doctor Parsons? Will I live?”

“Shut up,” I muttered under my breath and started unpacking the contents of my bag. A huge box of tissues with lotion. NyQuil. Tylenol Cold for multiple symptoms. Tylenol cold+flu. Sudafed.

He was laughing at me now. “Did you buy the entire drug store?”

“No. I didn’t buy the hemorrhoid cream.”

A strangled sound behind me made me swirl around. He had covered his mouth with his palm, presumably to keep his merry laughter trapped inside. His eyes crinkled and his gaze was warm.

That look in his eyes…Wow. I shivered.

I reached out and removed his hand. Then I gently cupped his face and swept my thumbs across his cheekbones. “I made you chicken soup.”

His mouth fell open. “You made me chicken soup?”

“From scratch.” I nodded and brushed his sweaty hair away from his face. “It was my nana’s recipe. She used to make it when I was sick. It always made me feel better.”

“Oh, honey.”

My breath stuttered. I looked him right in the eye. “You called me honey.”

“I did.”

 I flung my arms around his neck and pulled him in for a hug.

“Don’t. You’ll get sick, too.”

“I don’t care. You called me honey.”

He wrapped his arms around my waist—finally, hallelujah!—and pulled me close.

“Thank you, honey.” He emphasized the endearment. “No one has ever made me soup when I was sick before.”

“Want some?” I should let go of him. I should fix him a bowl, make sure he took some medicine, and go back home so he could sleep.

“I’d love to.”

I buried my nose in the crook of his neck and inhaled before I reluctantly let go and stepped away. “I’ll get you some. Sit down.”

He grabbed my hand. “Will you stay and have soup with me? I really did miss you.”

My heart swelled in my chest and I had to swallow. “I’d love to. I missed you, too.”

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Happy weekend everyone.


Release blitz and #giveaway: Out of the Ocean by Lynn Michaels


Length: 26,500 words approx.

Cover Design: Decorous Anarchy Studios


Cal Bigsby spent his life working the fishing boats and ignoring who he really is and what he needs to be happy.

Prescott ‘Scott’ Vandenburton is being primed to take over Daddy’s company, but he craves a life of his own. His only escape is sailing his yacht.

When a freak storm hits, both are forced to think about life from a whole new perspective.

Shipwrecked, fighting for their lives, and finding unexpected love.

“Well, we do have some food here,” Scott said, as Cal sorted the nets.


“I have some crackers and a can of smoked oysters. Want that for breakfast?”


“Aren’t you hungry, Cal?”

Cal grunted. “You need to ration that food. Who knows how long we’ll be out here.” There was no way Cal was going to take food from Scott. He couldn’t.

“Uh…you mean we.”

“Huh? No.”

“Don’t grunt at me. This is serious. You’re sharing this food with me. Now what do you want to eat?”

Cal ignored him. Scott meant well, but his own instincts wouldn’t let him compromise. No matter what happened, Cal had to do everything he could to protect Scott, make sure he survived. Nothing else mattered. “Have some crackers, Scott. I’m busy.”


Author Bio
Lynn Michaels lives and writes in Tampa, Florida where the sun is hot and the Sangria is cold. Lynn is the newest addition to Rubicon Fiction, and she loves reading and writing about hot men in love. She writes paranormal and contemporary MM Romance

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Cover reveal: Astray (Wavesongs #1) by Elvira Bell



Wavesongs #1
Elvira Bell
Release Date: May 1, 2018
Genre: Romance, Historical fiction, LGBT, M/M, Coming of age, Pirates, Age gap

Nick Andrews has grown up in poverty in a tiny village. All his life he’s been told that he’s useless. After getting one scolding too many he decides to go far away, off to sea. But his experience as a farmhand has done little to prepare him for the hardships of a sailor’s life.

When his ship is attacked by pirates, Nick’s life is miraculously spared by the notorious pirate captain, Christopher Hart—a man in charge of a crew feared for their brutality. Nick is forced to join the pirates, and he dreads finding out for what reason the captain has saved him.

But Hart is nothing like his reputation suggests, and Nick soon finds himself entangled in a relationship that could endanger both their lives. Unless Nick can help Hart on his quest to find a long lost treasure, their forbidden love may tear his new life apart.

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Meet the Author

Elvira Bell lives in Sweden and spends most of her time writing, reading or watching movies. Her weaknesses include, but are not limited to: vintage jazz, musicals, kittens, oversized tea cups, men in suits, the 18th century, and anything sparkly.

Elvira writes m/m fiction with a touch of romance and has a penchant for historical settings. She adores all things gothic and will put her characters through hell from time to time because she just loves watching them suffer. It makes the happy endings so much sweeter, after all.

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Cover reveal: Blood Bathory: Like the night by Ari McKay


Cover Design: Lou Harper @ Cover Affairs
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Length: 123,737 words

You can run…

After losing his younger sister to cancer, fashion photographer Evan St. John tries to outrun his pain, leaving New York for the excitement of Paris. His talent and striking good looks bring him to the attention of Elizabeth Nadasdy, the elegant and powerful owner of House of Nadasdy. Evan is thrilled at the opportunity to work for such a prestigious designer, but he soon discovers Elizabeth wants more than his talent. Beneath the beautiful mask she presents to the world lurks the evil of a vampire whose lust for beauty is surpassed only by her thirst for blood.

Evan’s life is shattered when Elizabeth turns him into one of her “children.” Unable to bear what he has become, he flees to New York to find his best friend, police officer Will Trask. The one person who might be able to help him.

But you can’t hide…

Together, Evan and Will find themselves drawn deeper into a strange world they never knew existed. Standing against the vampires are the theriomorphs, shapeshifters who serve as the guardians of Gaia, the embodiment of all life on earth. Though sworn to eradicate every vampire, Marielle Du Lac, the leader of the theriomorphs, offers them a bargain. If they help bring down Elizabeth, her people will try to find a way to restore Evan to life.

Caught up in an ancient war between two powerful supernatural forces, Evan and Will must choose sides, because if they are to have any chance of a future together, they must destroy Elizabeth Nadasdy before she destroys them.

About The Authors

Ari McKay is the professional pseudonym for Arionrhod and McKay, who have been writing together for over a decade. Their collaborations encompass a wide variety of romance genres, including contemporary, fantasy, science fiction, gothic, and action/adventure. Their work includes the Blood Bathory series of paranormal novels, the Herc’s Mercs series, as well as two historical Westerns: Heart of Stone and Finding Forgiveness. When not writing, they can often be found scheming over costume designs or binge watching TV shows together.

Arionrhod is a systems engineer by day who is eagerly looking forward to (hopefully) becoming a full time writer in the not-too-distant future. Now that she is an empty-nester, she has turned her attentions to finding the perfect piece of land to build a fortress in preparation for the zombie apocalypse, and baking (and eating) far too many cakes.

McKay is an English teacher who has been writing for one reason or another most of her life. She also enjoys knitting, reading, cooking, and playing video games. She has been known to knit in public. Given she has the survival skills of a gnat, she’s relying on Arionrhod to help her survive the zombie apocalypse.


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Release blitz and #giveaway: Would It Be Okay to Love You? Box set by Amy Tasukada


Length: 287 pages

A robot fanboy. An erotic voice actor. Will their secrets overwhelm their love?

Sato doesn’t get out much. The anime company accountant spends his days at a desk and his nights working on his own small-scale robots. His geeky life is like a dream, but it has just one piece missing…

The world only knows outgoing playboy Aoi for his moans. The budding voice actor has sworn off relationships since they’ll only distract him from his budding voice acting career. That was until he met Sato.

As Aoi’s popularity rises and secrets about his past begin to reveal themselves, can the accountant and the voice actor rise above their problems to create something real?


After a few more minutes of searching, Sato found two model kits worthy of assembling. He liked one figure more, but the other would be more challenging. After all, he couldn’t spend his entire New Year’s vacation watching anime like last year.

“It’s really hard to pick one sometimes, isn’t it?” Sato said.

“I guess so,” the teenager said.

Sato bit his lip. Usually he wouldn’t hold a conversation with random strangers, but the teen clearly loved Gundam as much as he did. Why else would he linger as much as he had?

The teenager lifted his sunglasses and perched them on his black beanie. Blond hair peeked out from under the hat. He smiled at Sato, showing the dimples on his cheeks.

“They let you dye your hair in school now?” Sato blurted out without thinking. “A friend of mine got in trouble when he lightened his to brown.”

“I’m twenty-five.”

“Oh, please excuse me, I didn’t mean…” Sato bit his lip.

“Is it because I’m short?” The dimples disappeared, and a mischievous glint appeared in the man’s green eyes. “Maybe you’re just really tall.”


“Don’t worry so much. I once bought my friend a pack of cigarettes and a cop popped out of nowhere and said I was too young to use the vending machine. He went into this big lecture, then I showed him my ID and he thought it was a fake! He threatened to call my parents and everything.”

Sato gave a weary smile and rubbed the back of his neck. Knowing the blond was close to his own age zapped away what little social courage he possessed.

The man’s gaze met Sato’s, then wandered down his body without shame. Sato’s face grew hot, and his heart thumped in his ears.

“So is everything else about you as big?” he asked.


The guy was actually flirting with him? Sato’s technique consisted of vaguely making eye contact and hoping the other person realized he was into him. The way the blond’s crooked smile spread across his face didn’t make Sato’s heart beat any quieter.

In the accounting department, the most out-there anyone got was wearing a khaki suit. Sato had never even talked to anyone bold enough to wear colored contacts and dye their hair so drastically. He pushed up his glasses but couldn’t squeak out a reply.

“So which one did you decide on getting?” the blond asked.

Sato swallowed. The man still wanted to hold a conversation with him?

“I think this one.” Sato picked a five-hour do-it-yourself kit. It would take him three if he was lucky.

“Nice choice.”

Sato rubbed his sweaty palms against his coat. “I—ah—which one are you getting?”

“Oh, these.”

He held up a few manga graphic novels. The cover of one had a man clinging onto another man, his private parts covered by a conveniently placed bedsheet. They were boys’ love novels. Sato’s tongue twisted into a Windsor knot like his tie.

If the guy was reading them, then he surely had to be gay, or at least bi. Though the fact he’d flirted with Sato had to be the biggest giveaway.

Sato’s breath caught in his throat even thinking of buying a gay manga himself.

Sure he’d dated people who were out before. There’d been that upperclassman in high school, but that had only lasted three days. His college boyfriend had lasted longer. They’d been in the same trigonometry class and had even studied together. Then he’d stopped taking Sato’s calls after the final exam. Sato tugged at his tie. He couldn’t really count those as meaningful relationships.

The man stared at Sato.

“So you’re not getting a kit?” Sato asked.

“I ducked here to hide from them.” The blond pointed to the door where the group of women walked out.

“All of them?”

He laughed. “What can I say?”


Author Bio
Amy Tasukada lives in North Texas with a calico cat called O’Hara. As an only child her day dreams kept her entertained, and at age ten she started to put them to paper. Since then her love of writing hasn’t cease. She can be found drinking hot tea and filming Japanese street fashion hauls on her Youtube channel.


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Sunday Review

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Happy Sunday, everyone. A short review of a short book today, and be warned: my review contains a minor spoiler, so if that’s not your thing, don’t read it 🙂

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henry and jimHenry & Jim by J.M. Snyder

These two men who have spent a life in love, from the very first date arranged by Henry’s sister, through the rocky times they worked to make ends meet, and into their twilight years.

This is such a wonderful story about Henry and Jim that met and fell in love over 50 years ago. It’s a very short story that takes place over the morning one day in their lives, but we are treated to glimpses from their life together, among other things their first date that was set up by Henry’s sister.

Jim is suffering from Alzheimers, although he still remembers Henry. But every morning is a struggle for Henry because he worries that this will be the day Jim has forgotten him. I need to stop reading Alzheimer stories: I read Ofelia Gränd’s Trapped a few weeks back and bawled my eyes out, and this book had me sobbing the entire way through. My greatest fear in life is Alzheimers or dementia and that I will forget the love of my life, so this book touched me on a personal level.

It’s beautifully written; full of emotion and the love between the two men is almost tangible. The ending is beautiful and leaves me with a feeling of hope, despite the fact that I know Henry and Jim’s story inevitably can’t end well. This short glimpse from their lives, however, ends on a happy note, and J.M. Snyder stops before the inevitable happens.

Warmly recommended.


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Happy Friday everyone! It’s FlashFiction time, and time for part 5 of Alan and Jon’s story. Two weeks ago, Addison left me a few words in the comments of part 4…she’s got special permission to do so even if I don’t ask for them 🙂  And last week, I gave her three prompt words to use in the next flashfic and went about my day…until I was struck by an idea a couple hours later: what if I took the words I’d just given her and incorporated them in MY story, too? Use both the ones I’d gotten from her and the ones I gave her? After I decided I’d do it, I poked her and asked if she was up for some fun: that we both use all six words in our story this Friday and see what we could come up with.

She said yes, of course, which means both of us got stuck with phone, bed, and waffle (the words from Addison to me) and yoga, Yggdrasil and yoctosecond (the words from me to Addison).

Here’s what I came up with. And Here’s Addison’s post. It’s really funny and it made me giggle like a madwoman. And even though our stories are pretty different, they had one thing in common: perving on someone while in an interesting yoga pose 🙂  

(Parts 123, and 4 of Alan and Jon’s story if you need to get up to speed.)

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With my phone in a tight grip, I stumbled into the kitchen, my eyes barely open. Six in the morning—it should be a crime to be awake at this ungodly hour. But early morning sunshine and the excited chirping of birds had disturbed my sleep, and after twisting and turning in bed for what felt like forever, I gave up. I threw my angriest glare at the birds, but it didn’t stop them. If anything, they got even louder.

So, tea. I needed tea. And maybe I could actually have something other than a granola bar for breakfast since I didn’t have to be at work for another three hours. Like bacon. Or waffles. Yeah, waffles would be good.

I filled the kettle with fresh, cold water and added tea leaves to the flowery pot that had been my grandma’s. While I waited for it to boil, I pulled up the text Jon had sent me yesterday after our date. I’d already read it a thousand times, but it made me ridiculously giddy so I couldn’t help myself.

Thnx 4 dinner. Had a gr8 time. Can’t wait to kiss spaghetti sauce off ur nose again. xoxo

A smile spread across my face and a happy sigh slipped out. Jon was…wonderful. Up until a few days ago, he’d only been a hot guy I couldn’t stop ogling, but after getting to know him a little better, I was smitten. Crushing hard. If I’d been an emoji, I would have hearts for eyes.

I rubbed my hand over my sleep messy hair. God. This thing between us…could turn serious in a heartbeat if I let it. “Cool your heels, Alan,” I muttered as I poured the hot water over the leaves. We’d only known each other for a couple days. It was way too early for… anything.

While the tea was steeping, I grabbed eggs and milk from the fridge and rummaged the pantry for the rest of the ingredients for waffles. After three minutes on the dot, I strained the tea and poured myself the first cup of the day.

I closed my eyes and inhaled the lovely aroma of bergamot. Nothing beat a great cup of Earl Grey in the morning. A couple sips later, I started to feel like a human being and not like some kind of monster risen from the dead. I opened my eyes again and looked out my kitchen window…and almost dropped my mug.

Jon. On his porch. Dressed in nothing but the tiniest pair of shorts I’d ever seen. Doing some kind of exercise. Yoga, maybe? He stretched his limbs, making the muscles play under his skin.

I gulped.

Blinked several times to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.

I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He moved with a fluidity and grace I hadn’t expected. With sweeping arms and straight back and head held high, he was beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking.

Mesmerized, I watched him grab his right foot with his right hand and lift it up and back at the same time as he extended his left arm forward. He held that pose for what seemed like forever and was steady as a rock. And even if I was too far away to notice if his muscles trembled, I would have bet money on that they didn’t. Smoothly, he put down the leg and repeated the pose on the other side. I was in awe. With my shitty balance, I would have been unable to hold that position for longer than a yoctosecond. Heh. Who was I kidding? I wouldn’t even have gotten my leg in that position.

And then he bent forward, hands touching the floor. Ass sticking up in the air.

Someone whimpered. Was it me, making that pathetic sound? Who the fuck cared?

Without a second thought, I spun on my heel and ran out of the house, wearing only my pajama pants. The tea sloshed down on my bare feet and forced me to slow down. When I reached his porch, I was calm.


His eyes were closed, and he hadn’t noticed me approaching. He had both feet planted on the ground, his arms stretched up and a serene look on his face. I probably shouldn’t disturb him.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” I blurted out and winced as soon as the words were out of my mouth.

His head jerked in my direction, and his eyes flew open, but he held the position. “Alan!”

“What are you doing?”

“Um, yoga?” He lowered his arms and bent forward again.

“Are you asking or telling?” I leaned my hip against the railing and took a big gulp of tea, my gaze never leaving him.

“Ha ha.” Slowly, he pulled himself up to standing and reached for the heavens again.

“So, what’s that pose called? Um…Yggdrasil?”

“What?” he chuckled and wobbled.

“Don’t all yoga poses have fancy names?”

He shook his head with a fond smile on his face. “Yeah, but…not…that’s just weird.”

I shrugged. “I wouldn’t know, I just took a wild guess.”

“You’ve never tried yoga?”

His question made me laugh. “Dude, I have no coordination whatsoever. It wouldn’t be a pretty sight.”

“You’re saying you’re afraid to try.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Oh, no, he didn’t.

I straightened my back. “I’m not afraid of anything.” That was such a lie, but I’d never been one to leave a thrown glove on the ground. Even if it was in my best interest.

He stepped close and his scent found its way into my nose, and I hummed. Warm hands cupped mine, and carefully he took the mug from me and put it down on the railing. Then he slid his hand up my arm and over my shoulder and didn’t stop until he rested it on my neck. I shivered.

“What are you doing up so early, anyway?” His voice was low and husky.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I murmured. “But now I realize it must have been the universe telling me I couldn’t miss this—” I gestured at him, “for the world.”

“Is that so?” He leaned forward and rested his cheek against mine.


“Up for a little yoga this morning, Alan?” His breath was hot in my ear and sent a quiver down my spine.

“Ummm…” Was I supposed to be able to think clearly with him this close? Did he expect an answer?

“We’ll start with something easy.”

He stepped back and grabbed my wrists and pulled me over to the mat while I was still under the spell of his slightly sweaty scent. I just wanted to bury my nose in the crook of his neck and inhale and lick and—

While I’d been lost in lustful thoughts, he’d positioned us, so I was in front of him. He stood close enough for me to feel his body heat, but not close enough to touch. Would he notice if I took a step back?

“Concentrate, Alan,” he said with his voice full of laughter.


“Just try Downward Facing Dog. It’ll give me a reason to stare at your butt.”

“You don’t need a reason for that.” I moved back, and my breath stuttered as his chest touched my back.

“Hey. You’re not playing fair,” he said and pressed his body closer to mine. His palms slid around my waist until his strong arms encircled me completely. I sighed and leaned my head back on his shoulder. My eyes drifted closed and everything except Jon faded into the background. His chest rose and fell against my back and slowly our breathing synchronized. My belly filled with butterflies as his thumbs drew circles on my skin. I rested my hands on top of his, needing to feel connected to him.

Far too soon a door slammed somewhere and disturbed our moment of tranquility. I heaved out a disappointed sigh.

“I know,” he mumbled.

“This was the best morning I’ve ever had.”

“Me too.”

I twisted in his embrace, flung my arms around his neck, and buried my face in his shoulder. His hands rested just above the waistband of my sleep pants, blazing against my skin. “Can we do this again?” I asked.

“You can always join me for yoga tomorrow.” His hands slid a little lower.

Damn him for taking advantage of me while I was powerless. I pressed a kiss to his neck. “Okay.”

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Happy weekend everyone.