Friday, March 30, 2012

Friendly Friday - Featuring Amylea Lyn

Hey there, everyone! I’m so excited to be able to pop by for Dan’s Friendly Friday. Thanks so much for having me today!

When I first started thinking about what to write for this post, I couldn’t come up with anything. When I was first offered a chance to promo on Dan’s blog, I wasn’t well aquatinted with his work. I’ve been writing and reading M/M romance for a couple of years now, and for some reason I just never bought anything by DC Juris. So as soon as I accepted the spot, I immediately went on a web search and purchased a few books to rectify that error.

All I can say is… where have these books been all my life? LOL.

Yes, I am now a DC Juris addict and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I know I’m supposed to be using this post to talk about myself and my latest book, and I promise, I’ll get to that. But I just want to say how happy I am that an author like Dan is out there as a rising star, entertaining us with his words and stories.

Now, onto the regular promo stuff.

My latest book is titled The Beast’s Promise and it was published by Silver Publishing. It’s book 2 of my Outside the City series. It was a labor of love to write, and so far the response has been wonderful. My readers have been so excited to read the next chapter in these characters lives, and I’m so happy I was able to turn the focus of the story onto the secondary characters from the first book, Owen and Maltok, and give them their happily ever after.

It’s an exciting read and I hope that everyone who picks it up enjoys it as much as they would a DC Juris book. *winks*

If you’d like to learn more about my books, stop by my website www.amylealyn.webs.com or my blog www.amylealynromance.blogspot.com and leave me a message!




Blurb:

Owen Sanders has a lot on his mind. Ever since being kidnapped from the City, he's been trying to get back in order to rescue the twin baby brothers he had been forced to leave behind. The only thing stopping him is leaving behind his newly found mate, Maltok, and the feelings he has for the other man.

Katrian Co-Alpha Chief, Maltok doesn't know why his human mate refuses to bond with him. When he finds out about Owen's forgotten family, Maltok is hurt that the smaller man would keep something so important from him. Maltok agrees to help retrieve the children on one condition; Owen must agree to mate him when they return to the Village. Owen reluctantly agrees.

The two men begin their journey and, on the way, learn that some misunderstandings must be resolved before they could have hope for their future. And when the City retaliates against their actions, the two men must make a decision that could save them all…

And possibly destroy the City forever.


Excerpt:

Two little boys, so alike in image and so very different in temperament, curled up together in the small twin bed, sleeping soundly; dreaming of toys and the games they would play in the morning. Neither heard the sirens wailing in alarm or the tromp tromp tromp of the Guard performing a systematic grid search in the vain hope of catching the escaped prisoners before they got away.

Neither knew the danger about to befall them.

The old man heard. He knew something was happening and he prayed to the Founders that whatever was going on wasn't going to affect his oldest grandson, who worked in the Prison. He glanced over at the clock, straining his eyes in the darkness to see the time. Owen should be home now. Where was he?

Lifting himself up off the old, sagging couch, the grandfather ignored the way his bones shook and his joints creaked, and slowly shuffled over to the apartment window, peaking around one gray curtain to peer out onto the darkened street. The long shadows of men on patrol were barely visible in the thick blackness that was this night. They were searching for something; but for what the grandfather couldn't be sure. Who could say why the Guard did what they did?

One of the boys whimpered in his sleep and the old man let the curtain fall has he hobbled over to their bedside. Lightly rubbing the small boy's back, he soothed the restless child back to sleep, smiling slightly when he clung a bit tighter to his twin.

"Micah," he whispered softly as he carefully pushed a fall of white blond hair off the boy's brow. He looked over at the identical twin, smiling at the little gray toy car clutched in one small hand. "Lucah," he said with a light laugh. He could have sworn he'd taken the toy away before bed, but wasn't surprised the boy had managed to find the little car again. Lucah could be relentless when he wanted something.

He took after his good-for-nothing father in that way.

They were both so small, taking after his dearly departed daughter in size and form; and in sleep they looked so sweet, the usual mischief and teasing smiles missing, causing the boys to look like little cherubs. They were so much like their elder brother; smart and quick, with a ready smile and laugh for the old man who loved them like they were his entire world.

But that smile has been missing for a while now, he reminded himself, as he thought about the twins’ elder brother.

Looking over to the clock again, he tried to ignore the anxiety filling him. Owen should have been home almost ten minutes ago. It was so unlike him to be late. The grandfather prayed to the Founding Fathers that his grandson's delay wasn't caused by the drama going on in the streets.

Twenty minutes later he had nearly worked himself into a fit, the constant wails of sirens and the stomping of Guards setting his nerves into a frenzy, when he heard the sound of footsteps outside the door.

"Finally," he sighed in relief, making his way over from the window he'd been looking through to the door. He had walked about halfway there when the door suddenly burst open, the small implosion knocking him off his feet. He lay on the floor in a daze, as Guard after Guard rushed through the broken door, the sounds of their boots on the shards of metal grating loudly, searing into his memory for all time. The distant sound of children screaming pulled him back from the fog he'd fallen in to, and suddenly he realized it wasn't his mind that was foggy, the room began to fill with a white, cloying mist.

Gas, his hazy mind informed him, and the grandfather tried in vain to get a breath into his straining lungs. But the action only served to let more of the toxic fumes into his body, and he was too frail to handle the poison filling him.

"Where are the prisoners?" Someone asked from close by, but the grandfather couldn't answer. Looking toward the voice, he saw a gas mask covered face peeking through the gray cloud surrounding him. The image came from his most hidden nightmares and something he was sure none of them would ever forget. He strained his ears for more sounds from the boys, but the room was eerily quiet.

The twins? he thought, even as his body began to seize and his internal organs started to shut down. Why aren't they crying? Where are the twins? Owen?

"Where is your grandson, Owen Sanders?" Another voice asked.

The grandfather opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out but a croak.

"Forget it," a voice replied, and a new masked Guard filled his vision, a pen light shining into his sensitive eyes. "They're not here. The old man doesn't know anything." A gloved finger pressed against his throat, and the grandfather could actually feel his slowing pulse, as he felt sure the Guard could. "He's a goner. Body can't handle the gas."

"What about the kids?" Someone asked, and the grandfather wanted to plead with them to spare his grandchildren, if only he could find the breath. "They've gotten a good dose of the gas too."

"Put a mask on them, and take them to the Orphanage. Let them deal with the kids if they die." The masked Guard he could see replied.

The masked Guards stood up, and the grandfather could only watch in horror as his two grandchildren's limp bodies, little faces covered in large black masks, were carried out of the room and out through the broken front door. One of the Guards stopped at the broken metal door, and sealed the doorway with a plastic covering, preventing any more gas from escaping the apartment and into the other residences.

The old grandfather was left there, lying on the floor, body slowly succumbing to the toxic gas infecting his bloodstream and raced through his body.

As his eyes closed, feeling too heavy to keep open, the old grandfather said a final prayer, even as his lungs stuttered and finally stopped working.

Holy Founders, who created the City with such care and love, please watch over my grandsons. Keep them safe, and let their brother find them before it is too late. Please watch over them all.

The old man's heart slowed. Bu-bump...bu-bump... bu...bump...bu...

He died there on the floor, alone, another victim of the City's cruel punishments.

Oh Owen, where are you?


Buy Link: https://spsilverpublishing.com/product_book_info/products_id/777

Monday, March 26, 2012

18 And Over Book Blogger Giveaway Hop WINNER!!!

::drum roll:: And the winner is.... Tammy (pademe_lee@yahoo.com). CONGRATULATIONS!!! I'll be sending your copy over shortly! Thanks to everyone who entered!!!

Friday, March 23, 2012

Friendly Friday - Featuring Jambrea Jo Jones

Friendly Friday…

So...Dan started FF (umm…yeah…I’m lazy I like using initials… heehee). Of course I wanted a chance to come over and here I am!

Let me talk about how I met Dan… you know, I don’t remember our first contact. I do know that I read one of his books and LOVED it. LOVE, LOVE, LOVED it. Then I found out Dan would be at GayRomLit in 2011. Hmmm…or maybe I read the book because Dan was coming—I have a horrible memory. Lol

One of the things I was looking forward to the most was meeting Dan. Everywhere I went I was all—Where’s Dan. I HAVE to meet him. Nobody could find Dan. At least—no the people I asked.

Then it happened, the book signing. He was standing across the way and I said…that’s Dan! I might have squeed…I don’t remember. I do remember going all fan girl. Lol And he is such a cutie!!

I only saw him one other time…the going away brunch and I had to rush out to catch my plane, but I did manage to at least get a picture—photographic evidence that I did in fact meet Dan.


This year I’m hoping for more time so we can chat. Maybe I can get Dan to share a meal with me or something. I’m crossing my fingers.

This years GRL is going to be so much fun. The authors lined up are AMAZING. I know there are a lot I want to meet. If you go to www.gayromlit.com you can see a list and there might be a few readers spots left. I know there aren’t many because it was going fast.

If any of you are going, come say hi! I’m going to be doing some exploring. My son is tagging along with his grandparents. I think it is so great that PMan can go and see a part of the country that he probably would never visit if it wasn’t for GRL. I know I wouldn’t be going.

I’ll share some pictures of last years event so you can see what you’ll be missing if you don’t sign up. And you can check out the website to see all the fun parties happening.

Hope to see you in October. And Mr. Juris…I want a hug! :-)

And if you want to take a look at my writing you can visit my website at www.jambrea.com













  
  



Thursday, March 22, 2012

18 And Over Book Blogger Giveaway Hop

I'm participating in the 18 & Older Book Blogger Giveaway Hop!


For my part in the giveaway, I thought I'd give you a spicy, Rated Triple R excerpt from my book, "Finding Sanctuary"

After you read the excerpt, post a comment with your e-mail and you'll be entered to win a free pdf copy of "Finding Sanctuary". Good luck!!

****PLEASE BE AWARE:  I write GLBTQ romance. GLBTQ stands for gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, and queer. This means my works feature same sex relationships AND same sex sexual acts. If winning that kind of a book isn't your cup of tea, kindly pass on to the next blog in the hop and leave the spot open for someone else. Thank you.****

Blurb:

Finding Sanctuary is the story of Vincent, a typical, average guy who has begun to unravel. He has a respectable, mainstream life, with a solid job, nice girlfriend, comfortable house—all the material trappings. What, then, is causing this restlessness, these blackouts? The first revelation is that his best friend Eric is also his heart’s desire. But then Eric invites him to a weekend at a BDSM playhouse … There Vincent will confront his fears and test the limits of his sexual boundaries. Eric has his needs, too—needs that conflict with Vincent’s. Will their fragile new bond survive the weekend? Will Vincent find the sanctuary he so fervently desires?


Excerpt:


“I would like very much to show you the pleasures of this room, if you’d let me.”

Vincent nodded, pressing back against Eric, seeking reassurance. Eric’s hands gripped his hips tighter.

“You can say no, if you want to,” Eric told him. “Anton won’t be offended.”

“Not at all,” Anton assured. “This place is about pleasure, and nothing else.”

“I ... I do want it.” Vincent took a deep breath, hoping to expel his unease with it.

“I have a session starting now. Would you like to watch one before you participate in one? To get a feel for what goes on?”

“I can do that?” No time like the present, and nothing like jumping in feet first. Baptism by fire, Vincent thought, and thank God for it. He had wondered if things would begin right away, or if there would be some sort of ... he didn’t know ... class, maybe. Concern had filled him as Frank had presented paperwork; Vincent didn’t want any delays. No chance to turn back, no chance to back out. Please, God, he begged silently, no chance. Because if he could, he would, for the simple fact that he should.

“Of course.”

“I’d like that.” Eric’s arms came around him and Vincent moaned. He wasn’t normally into such public displays of affection. He didn’t even like to hold hands with Jenny when they went shopping. Something had come over him since he had set foot in this place, though. Something that made him want to stake his claim, or rather let Eric stake his claim. He thought briefly of the pictures he’d seen in the BDSM book. Collared men on their knees, connected to their masters by chains. Maybe Eric would collar him one day. Seemed too much to hope for, a thing he’d never be good enough to deserve.

Anton left the room and Eric turned Vincent around to face him, eyes searching his face. “Are you all right?”

Vincent nodded. “You should choose your safe word now.”

“Penguin.” Strangest thing he could think of. Eric chuckled.

“Penguin it is then.”

Vincent shook his head, trying to clear the fog. He felt as if the room itself had a personality, as if the walls and ceiling and floor were indeed watching him, smiling seductively. As if the room knew all his secrets, and couldn’t wait to drag them out into the light of day and show him just what lurked inside his soul. “This place ...”

“Gets under your skin, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, exactly. Like there’s an electricity here. I can feel it crawling over me.” Vincent shivered, gooseflesh rising on his arms.

“It’s exhilarating for me. That’s why I come here.” Eric led Vincent over to a recliner near the back of the room. “You can watch from here.” He gestured to the chair.

“Are you going to stay?”

“If you want me to.” 

“I ...” All about pleasure, but what if Eric wanted to find his pleasure elsewhere? “If you want to.” 

Eric grinned. “I like to watch just as much as I like to play, and if it would make you feel better, then I’d like that even more. I did say I’d stay by you, after all.”

“I would feel better.” The worry of being left alone in one of these rooms had gnawed at him since they’d pulled up. Or not the worry of being alone, maybe, as much as the worry of how far he’d let himself go. Nothing without his consent, but Vincent knew he’d consent to just about anything now that he’d felt the alluring power of the torture room.

“Then I’ll stay. Have a seat.”

Vincent hadn’t realized until that moment that he had ignored the chair. He sat down, running his hands over the plush velvet.

“Comfortable?”

“Yes.” Eric stood behind him, hands light on his shoulders. The door on the far side of the room opened and Anton walked in, accompanied by a shorter, dark-skinned, naked man.

“That’s Dominic,” Eric explained. “He’s one of Anton’s favorites.”

“He won’t mind that I’m here?”

Eric shook his head. “Dominic likes to be watched. Gets off on it.”

Anton helped Dominic onto the table, where he lay on his back, and took great care restraining him, making sure the padding of the wrist shackles fit correctly, asking if the bonds were too tight, if Dominic was comfortable and ready. Dominic nodded and Anton stepped back. He turned the crank until the table tilted upright. Dominic might as well have been standing.

“Do you see the curtains hanging around the room?” Eric asked Vincent.

He hadn’t seen them; the fabric color melded perfectly with that of the walls. “I do now, yes.”

“They conceal mirrors. Subs can watch themselves be tortured or not, as they prefer.”

Anton moved to the wall and pulled a cord. The curtains parted, revealing floor to ceiling mirrors, and Vincent heard Dominic’s deep moan.

Anton chose his tools, seeming to ponder over each before finally selecting one. The tails of the flogger he picked up ended in metal tabs, which sported tiny spikes. Vincent at once cringed and hungered, fearing such a thing but yearning for it all the same.

He watched as Anton began Dominic’s torture, though judging by the way Dominic’s cock jutted out from his body, torture hardly seemed the right word. Dominic cried out each time the flogger touched his chest, his voice thick and lusty, arousal fairly radiating from his body.

Vincent felt the heat of those feelings reach out to him, felt himself being pulled into the moment. He squirmed in his seat, his cock throbbing in time with the strokes of the flogger as he imagined that sensuous weapon coming down on his own body. He wanted to be where Dominic was—chained to the table, laid bare, vulnerable and defenseless. Wanted Anton to force him to give up everything. He would beg for that before they would finish, Vincent realized.

What would it be like to have Dominic watch as Anton worked his magic on him? Or to have Eric watch? Vincent pictured the scene: Eric sitting in the chair and himself on the table. He nearly came with the thought of it.

“Do you like what you see?” Eric asked, lips close to Vincent’s ear.

“I do.”

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Not enough.”

“You want to see more?”

“Feel it. I want ... I want to feel it.” Vincent rocked his hips forward, desperate to ease the ache in his slacks. Eric’s hands slid down the front of him, rubbed up and down his chest in lazy strokes, and Vincent suddenly wished he had taken off his shirt. Eric’s touch turned his blood to lava and set him on fire.

“What do you feel, Vincent?”

“Hot ... feels like I’m on fire. Your touch feels good.” He leaned his head back, trying to get more of that touch and still watch Anton and Dominic. Something caught his eye then—a flash of bright color, no larger than a pencil eraser, but so vibrant and bright. A gleaming drop of red. Blood. Vincent gasped as his cock tightened and twitched at the sight. He didn’t understand why Dominic’s blood turned him on, but it did. “He’s bleeding,” he murmured.

“Does the blood bother you?”

“No ...” And he was certain that was wrong. Very, very wrong. But he wanted to bleed, too; a surge of jealousy slipped up his spine and he shuddered with it.

“Would you like Anton to make you bleed?”

Vincent moaned, unable to form a reply. He shifted his weight again, still uncomfortable. Dominic’s moans and cries echoed off the walls; Vincent imagined he could feel them vibrating in his bones and along the shaft of his cock. Anton murmured to Dominic now and again, and although Vincent couldn’t hear the words, he knew the meaning behind them as Dominic nodded and sobbed. Begged.

“Is your cock hard?” Eric whispered.

Vincent nodded almost absently, eyes glued to the scene before him. Anton had moved back to the table, and now held a ball gag in his hand. He waved it back and forth in front of Dominic; Dominic’s eyes followed the gag wherever it went as he nodded and pleaded for it. Anton inclined his head slightly and walked back to Dominic, deftly securing the gag around his head. Vincent gasped as Dominic’s body went limp for a fraction of a second, head hanging so that his chin touched his chest.

Dominic raised his head, locked his gaze with Vincent’s, and smiled. The air left Vincent’s lungs, his pulse pounded wildly in his throat, his chest heaved and mouth began to water. That look. God, that look. Such rampant lust and desire, such gratitude—almost as if Dominic were thanking him for being a part of this. And. Such. Happiness.

“Take your cock out,” Eric purred. “Touch it. Stroke yourself while you watch them.”


Saturday, March 17, 2012

St Patrick's Day Blog Hop Winner!

Well, I dumped all the names in a hat (seriously!) and I have a winner!! ::drum roll::  It's
Pam (vanillaorchids69(at)gmail(dot)com)!  Congratulations!!!! I'll be sending "Orion's Way" *your* way shortly!

Thanks to everyone else who entered and made this blog hop such a success! I'm a Blog Hop Whore, as you can see by the sidebar, so keep checking back - there's more prizes to come over the next few months!

Friday, March 16, 2012

St. Patrick's Day Blog Hop

I'm participating in the St. Patrick's Day Blog Hop!


I don't really have a lot of St. Patrick's Day traditions personally, but the one thing I do is make sure all the staff where I work have something green to wear. I usually buy them shamrock necklaces, or headbands with light up shamrocks. They seem to like them, although they could just be sucking up to the boss! LOL

My offering for the giveaway is the winner's choice of a any pdf from my backlist, found at www.dcjuris.com!

Entering is simple - just leave a comment with the title of the book you hope to win, and your e-mail address. That's it! Easy peasy, right?

I'll pick a winner and announce it here! 

Good luck!!

****PLEASE BE AWARE:  I write GLBTQ romance. GLBTQ stands for gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, and queer. This means my works feature same sex relationships AND same sex sexual acts. If winning that kind of a book isn't your cup of tea, kindly pass on to the next blog in the hop and leave the spot open for someone else. Thank you.****

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

The Point of Publication

A while back, I had a situation with an industry professional where we couldn't come to an agreement on something. Early on, there were warning signs this would be the case, but I ignored them. In the end, the person became personally offended over something I was trying to rationally explain. When it came down to either biting back or biting my tongue, I bit back. The person annoyed me and wasted my time, and I told them that. They were even further insulted, of course. I forwarded the entire conversation to a couple trusted fellow authors, who both agreed I was in the right. One said I'd been too nice, the other admonished that, while they saw my point, I should've politely held my tongue from the very beginning and just waited to be to shown how things were going to be. When I asked why on Earth I should compromise my integrity, the answer was "if they run their mouth it could hurt your sales."

Sales.

::sigh::

This is the one factor over which myself and my fellow authors differ pretty much all the time. I'm not in this industry for the money. It's a nice bonus, but it's not the point. For me, publication is about finality. I have a fetish for finishing things, and a book isn't finished until it's published.

It's all about getting my characters' stories out there. Insuring that their names will live in immortality - that people will know they existed. That's the point of publication for me. Not the money. Not the awards. Not the best-seller status.

Feelin' Lucky Giveaway Hop Winner!!

And the winner is..... (drum roll)....mamabunny13!!  Congratulations!!! I'll be e-mailing you shortly!

Thank you so much to everyone who entered and commented!! As you can see by the sidebar, I'm participating in a *ton* more hops, so keep checking back - next time might be *YOUR* time!!

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Feelin' Lucky Giveaway Hop

I'm participating in the Feelin' Lucky Giveaway Hop!


My prize offering is a $15 Gift Certificate to one of my publishers, Torquere Press!

To enter to win is simple - just leave a comment below, and be sure to include your e-mail address. 

As an optional extra entry - follow my blog! Be sure to give your follower name in your comment! This counts even if you're already a follower! 

I will pick the winner on 3/13!

GOOD LUCK!!!!!!