Friday, 4 September 2015

Coming Soon: Frankie & Friends

Frankie & Friends

My Frankie series will be out in paperback on the 9th September.

Frankie's Series Collection

Frankie and Al

Dumped by his boyfriend, Frankie Mason gets totally trashed and ends his night by falling in front of a taxi. He’s rescued by a man with beautiful green eyes who takes care of him until he’s put into an ambulance, but Frankie fails to get the man’s number. A few days later, he’s dragged out to a club only to be saved by Green Eyes again. This time, he isn’t letting the man go.

Ed and Marchant

Ed is miserable in life and at work, until he meets Marchant Belarus. Marchant, the owner of a BDSM club, realizes Ed is a closeted sub. Marchant tries to draw Ed out of his shell, but nothing helps until he discovers Ed’s secret love of dancing—a forbidden passion that might be the key to unlocking the confident, secure man Ed could be.

Anthony and Leo

Tony is unhappy at not having found a Dom of his own. He thinks he’s too big, too old, and too hairy—until he meets funny, toppy Leo, who also sells sex toys. When tragedy strikes and Leo offers his support, Tony believes Leo is the Dom he’s been looking for... until he catches him kissing another man.

Tuesday, 1 September 2015

Fret by Sandrine Gasq-Dion





Title: Fret

Author: Sandrine Gasq Dion

Cover Artist: Kellie Dennis

Length: 48,000 words

Release Date: September 01, 2015

Blurb: Former Navy SEAL Axel Blaze lives a solitary life. He doesn't do emotions, and he doesn't do babysitting. Used to being on his own, his job consists of Wetwork (a charming term coined by the KGB) for his former Master Chief, Mac. When an out-of-the-ordinary job lands on his doorstep, Axel heads down a path that includes a famous heavy metal rock band and one quiet, vulnerable, guitar-shredding virtuoso named Gareth Wolf.

Gareth Wolf's life changed in an instant when a car he was a passenger in crashed, hurting his brother's best friend and the band's lead guitarist. They created the band, Skull Blasters, as kids. Gareth had always been happy in the background, playing roadie. With the lead guitarist's injury, Gareth is suddenly thrust into the limelight and into a frenzied life he never imagined for himself. Finally fed up with living a lie, Gareth comes out as gay in a newspaper interview and finds himself in the bulls-eye of a crazed stalker. Somebody wants Gareth hurt - or worse - and Mac has been hired to be sure that doesn't happen. Babysitting duty is NOT Axel's strong suit, but Mac won't be budged.

Enter Axel Blaze. Against his better judgment, the big man takes the job to protect the shy musician. The more time he spends with Gareth Wolf, the more he admires the man. Where's a simple assassination when you need one? The situation becomes more volatile for each man as the attempts on Gareth escalate just as Axel finds himself falling for the quiet lead guitarist.

Strong, funny, smart-ass -- and kinda sweet Axel is everything Gareth has ever wanted in a man. Too bad he's off limits. As the stalker grows bolder, Gareth and Axel move closer emotionally - but is it too late? All Axel knows is that they don't stand a chance if he can't find the maniac trying to kill the man he's come to care about. A  lot.

Everyone knows that relationships that begin in pressured or volatile situations eventually fizzle out.

Or do they?




Thumping music was shaking the walls of the Dome as I headed for my designated spot. I guess I’m meeting Paul, the band’s manager.

I took mental notes as I passed through the crowd of screaming, jumping people. The band was rocking it out and I sought out Gareth Wolf. There were two guitarists, but I found him right away. Black hair touched his shoulders and his lean body moved with his guitar.

He was in his element.

The song was wrapping up and the floor was shaking from the bass drum. The floor-to-ceiling speakers pumped out the last notes of the song. The crowd immediately went wild as Ransom Fox leaned over the stage.

“Let’s hear it for the best lead guitarist on the planet!” he shouted.

Gareth shook his hair back and bowed with one hand out. Again, the crowd screamed, shouted and whistled. Ransom went on to give some love to the other members of the group.

I rolled my eyes and pushed my way through the crowd toward the side of the stage. A large man eyed me and then nodded as I walked by. Again, I could have been wearing a ‘Hello, I’m God’ tag and security wouldn’t have batted an eyelash. As it was, my tag faced backwards; he couldn’t even see my name or credentials.

Security for the Skull Blaster band was sorely lacking.

I sat through another hour of bone-jarring hardcore metal before the band finally left the stage. I scanned the area for their manager, but no luck.

I walked right behind the curtain and fell into step with the band members as they trudged toward their dressing rooms. They didn’t even notice me — and I’m really hard to miss.

They stepped into the dressing room; I followed and slammed the door shut behind me. Ransom turned and his eyes widened.

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“Nice of you to finally notice me,” I pointed out.

“Paul!” Ransom thundered. He immediately moved in front of Gareth, shielding him.

“Oh for fucks sake.” I arched a brow.

The door behind me opened and a startled man looked me over from head to toe. He flipped my name badge over and sighed audibly, clearly relieved.

“It’s cool, Ransom. This is the guy I was telling you about.”

“You could have mentioned he was a semi-truck.” Ransom’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you,” Paul apologized to me. “I ran into some media and couldn’t get away.”

“Not that this isn’t fun —  because, oh so much fun — but I’m here to do a job. So I need to speak to whoever is in charge of ‘security.’ Now.” I leaned very slightly — but effectively — in to Paul’s face.

“Why?”

I turned to see Gareth peeking out from behind his brother’s broad shoulders. His eyes were a shade of green I’d never seen before, and with his pale complexion and dark hair? The guy was a looker and then some.

“Because band security royally sucks. I walked right on back here with them and not one person noticed or stopped me. That is not acceptable.”

“Who are you?” Gareth gaped.

I pinned him with a hard look. “I’m your bodyguard.”

Ransom chuckled.

“What the actual fuck?” Gareth stepped in front of his brother. “Is this a joke?”

“Nope.” Ransom shook his head.

“Jinx, Harley, Rebel. Give us a few, eh?” Paul opened the door and tilted his head toward the hallway.

“Sure thing, boss.” Rebel tipped his hat and winked at me.

I leaned against the wall as the members walked out. I overheard one of them, not sure which, talking to another.

“Did you see the size of that guy?”

“How could you miss him?” another one answered.

Paul shut the door and turned to Gareth with an apologetic smile.

“I knew what you’d say if we told you beforehand,” he admitted.

“Oh, did you now? You had to get me Conan the Destroyer? Jesus Christ!”

“Gareth,” Ransom warned.

“What? This is stupid! I don’t need a human shield!”

“You’re going to play nice and allow this man to watch your back, Gareth!” Ransom shouted. “You’re getting threats since you came out! I insist you be kept safe!”

“Gareth, why don’t you go clean up? Then you and Mr. Blaze can get acquainted.”

“Seriously? Blaze?” Gareth snorted.

I narrowed my eyes at the kid. Well, to me he was a kid, after everything I’d seen in my life. Gareth was almost twenty-three and I was pushing thirty. We locked eyes for a few seconds before he turned away.




Best-selling author, Sandrine (Sandy) was born in Inglewood, California. Raised by "Old School" French parents, she later moved to Tucson, AZ. It was there that writing became a hobby. Always told she had a great imagination, Sandy wrote short stories for her friends in High School. In college, she took more writing classes while working on her Criminal Justice degree, but it wasn't until a soap opera caught her eye that she got involved in male on male romances. On the advice of a friend, Sandy dipped her toes into the world of M/M Romance. Sandy takes the writing seriously and has had countless conversations with gay men as well as hours of research. She's been involved with the military in one way or another for over twenty years, and has a great deal of respect for our men in uniform. She's traveled the world, but has finally returned to Arizona.

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Monday, 31 August 2015

Interesting Blogs: Why Do So Many of This Year’s Book Covers Have the Same Design Style?

Over at Slate they are musing why so many of this summer's blogs have the same style of cover art.


"Inspired by the “flat design” that’s become standard on the Web, these covers take on a minimalist style characterized by bright colors, simple layouts, and lots of white space. Several different designers and publishers have used this approach on hardcovers and paperbacks alike, especially those aiming for the upmarket-but-still-commercial-fiction-for-ladies sweet spot." Read the rest here

Diana: A Lifetime Ago

It seems unbelievable that is it eighteen years since Diana, the Princess of Wales, was killed in a horrific car crash in the Pont de l'Alma tunnel in Paris.

I remember the time clearly because it was just after my daughter was born. I watched the endless TV reports about her death and her funeral, tears rolling down my face as I thought about two boys losing their mother. Raging hormones did nothing to quell my anguish for them.

Eighteen years on and my daughter has just left school. William has his own family. Harry is... Harry.

It seems unreal that neither of my kids remember Diana, or the effect she had on a nation. She brought glamour and colour and her death devastated many. I remember my sister joining the queues to lay flowers. It was the first time I saw the UK in mourning.



I don't think anyone would realise the effect she had on the Royal Family. She shook up their stuffy public image.

Diana wasn't perfect but she was the face of a nation for sixteen years. Looking at the news articles today I remember the effect of her death on me.


Rest easy, Diana. You produced fine boys.

Review of Beware of Geeks Bearing Gifts by Charlie Cochet



Title: Beware of Geeks Bearing Gifts

Author: Charlie Cochet

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Cover Artist: Anne Cain

Length: 86 pages

Release Date: August 19, 2015

Blurb: Julian “Quinn” Quinetro, a gruff, tough Miami SWAT officer, has been injured on the job, and all he’s looking for is a little peace and quiet to recover—difficult to achieve with his large Cuban family. An adventure in picking up his prescriptions puts him in the path of his geeky, brownie-baking neighbor, Spencer Morgan. Spencer sweeps into Quinn’s life like a tropical storm of sunshine and rainbows. Not surprisingly, it’s chaos at first sight. Quinn’s in need of a little tender loving care, and Spencer decides he’s just the man for the job. Their very different lives might clash, but they might also find some common ground—and maybe more.



I adored this book. Charlie has a beautiful way of writing, and I loved the evolving relationship between a geek who loves with food and an injured SWAT officer oblivious to the feelings of his neighbor. I loved the way they took time to find their way, and how they handled the bumps in the road. Beware of Geeks Bearing Gifts is well worth the read.


“This is sad, man. What is it with you and brownies?”

“These aren’t just any brownies,” Spencer stated proudly as he removed his latest batch of baked chocolate decadence from the oven. “These are Nutella caramel brownies with nuts, made from scratch. These are orgasm-in-your-mouth brownies.”

“Not really sure what to think about that,” Danny muttered, eyeing the brownies dubiously. “Seriously, dude. The only orgasm you should be chasing is the one waiting next door. This is your perfect chance! He’s defenseless.” Danny reached for a brownie, but Spencer slapped his hand away before he could pilfer one.

“I have to spread the Nutella and top them with walnuts. Also, I don’t know what I find more disturbing: that you think I should take advantage of the poor guy in his defenseless state, or that you believe the only way I’ve got a shot is to take advantage of him in his defenseless state.” He stopped and turned to his pouting best friend. “And FYI, defenseless is what babies and puppies are, not huge-ass mountain men in possession of heavy artillery. I ran into him once, literally, and it’s like he’s made out of fucking granite. He’s got an eight-pack. An eight-pack.”

Spencer had never seen an eight-pack outside of cyberspace. Until his sexy neighbor, he’d questioned their existence, much like Bigfoot. The sighting had taken place one morning on his way to get groceries. Quinn had been on his way to their gated community’s pool, sporting nothing but low-riding swim trunks and flip-flops. He’d stepped into the elevator next to Spencer, and the heat outside had nothing on the heat that had spread through Spencer’s body. Luckily Quinn had been too busy texting to notice Spencer’s Human Torch impression.

“I have… I don’t even know what this is.” Spencer lifted up the hem of his apron and the Hulk T-shirt underneath with a frown. He ran his finger down a groove along his torso as he sucked his stomach in. “Does this look like muscle definition to you?”

Danny reached over to pat Spencer’s pale belly. “Looks like you need to stop baking brownies. And get some sun, man. Look at you. You’re not even white. You’re like, transparent.”

“That’s harsh.” Spencer lowered his clothes. “I don’t tan like you. I burn. You couldn’t lie to me? Besides, what am I supposed to say to him? ‘Hi, remember me? I’m the guy who’s been living next door to you for the past year. We pass each other in the hall every day, take the elevator together, have parking spaces next to each other, have mailboxes next to each other, do laundry in the same room together, and shop at the same supermarket. No? That’s okay. Excuse me while I die of embarrassment.’” Spencer walked around the kitchen counter and flopped down into a chair, waiting for the brownies to cool. “The guy doesn’t know I exist. He’s freakin’ Miami SWAT. He’s probably an overbearing, misogynistic asshole with a giant ego, anyway.”

Danny took a seat next to him, his expression filled with concern. “You don’t know that. Besides, since when do you judge people?”

Spencer narrowed his eyes at his friend. “No one likes a smartass.”

“Says the guy who got a ticket for mouthing off to a police officer.”

“I wasn’t mouthing off. I was being witty and adorable. The guy just had no sense of humor. Besides, I was nowhere near that fire hydrant. He was clearly behind on his quota. Bet that wouldn’t have happened to Quinn.” Was he pouting? Oh God, he was. Danny was right; he was sad.

“Probably because he’s SWAT and can park his ginormous truck wherever the hell he wants.” Danny went to the glass doors of the balcony overlooking the parking spaces and started laughing.

“What?”

“You know how they say dogs look like their owners? I wonder if the same applies to cars.”

Spencer joined Danny at the window, letting out a low groan. His tiny yellow Fiat gleamed cheerfully beside Quinn’s monster black Chevy Silverado. “It looks like a sunspot.”







Charlie Cochet is an author by day and artist by night. Always quick to succumb to the whispers of her wayward muse, no star is out of reach when following her passion. From adventurous agents and sexy shifters, to society gentlemen and hardboiled detectives, there’s bound to be plenty of mischief for her heroes to find themselves in, and plenty of romance, too!

Currently residing in Central Florida, Charlie is at the beck and call of a rascally Doxiepoo bent on world domination. When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found reading, drawing, or watching movies. She runs on coffee, thrives on music, and loves to hear from readers.

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