Category Archives: Guest Post

4 stars for Dreamers’ Destiny by Tempeste O’Riley (GUEST POST) #MM #Paranormal @TempesteO @dreamspinners

: Dreamers’ Destiny
Author Name & Publisher: Tempeste O’Riley (Dreamspinner Press)
Publication Date & Length: May 13, 2016 – 200 pgs


Liam Grady is the owner of the Feathered Quill, a quirky little bookstore in Asheville, and—though he doesn’t realize it yet—a dream walker. His last relationship failed almost a year ago, and he’s not had the interest or nerve to pursue anyone he’s met since.

Cameron Danu is a tattoo artist from rural Georgia. Cameron is left without a job after his boss, Jose, is forced to close the shop after a heart attack. When Cameron learns Jose has set up an interview for him at a small tattoo parlor in Asheville, he hopes for a fresh start in a new town.

Fate brings Cameron and Liam together, and they realize they’ve met before—in their dreams. A chance encounter and a winged tattoo might lead them to their destiny—if fear doesn’t turn their dreams into a nightmare.

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Dreamers’ Destiny is fun, romantic, and sexy. I don’t usually comment on the cover art in my reviews, but this cover is stunning and fits the story well.
This is an intriguing and engaging story. I love the idea behind dream-weaving and the inclusion of Wiccan mythos. Liam and Cameron are relatable and lovable characters. It’s endearing to see the differences between their waking and dream relationships as they’re first getting to know each other.
My only complaint with this story is that the language is sometimes a bit stilted. But overall, I found it entertaining, and the sex scenes were hot.
I recommend this to anyone looking for a unique contemporary erotic romance.


Two days later, Liam stood in a kitchen he knew, but he was uncertain how he had ended up there. He looked around and found Cam bent over, rummaging in the fridge, his pert little butt in nothing but a pair of tight boxer briefs. Liam groaned as he moved closer to Cam and slid his hands over the smooth cotton, feeling the tight muscles beneath flex as Cam jumped and spun around.

“Dammit, Lee, don’t sneak up on me like that,” Cam groused, though the pout was ruined when the edges of his lips turned up in a small smile.

“Sorry, beautiful, but how could I resist such a tempting and delicious offering?”

“Uh-uh. Stroking the ego won’t help you this time.”

Liam smirked and slid one hand down to lightly rub up and down Cam’s length. Cam’s eyes closed as a low moan slipped out. His hips pushed forward, his body begging for touch.

“Your ego wasn’t what I had in mind, baby.”

“Oh, God, Liam. Please,” Cam begged. He threaded one hand into Liam’s hair and tugged him down until their lips met in a hard clashing of teeth, tongue, and yum.

Liam slipped one hand inside Cam’s briefs, then wrapped his fingers around the hard shaft that had been hiding within. He pulled and stroked the hot, hard flesh as he continued to kiss Cam as if he hadn’t touched Cam in ages. He wanted Cam so bad he couldn’t think straight.

He captured the moans Cam let out as they continued to devour each other, relishing each one as if it were his first and last ever. Liam clutched at Cam’s hip, desperate for his lover’s touch. He ripped his mouth away, panting for breath, never letting up on his slow pumping of Cam’s cock.

“So prefect,” he panted, relishing the little mewling sounds Cam made every time Liam skated his fingers over Cam’s cockhead, how Cam’s eyes were blown wide in desire.

“I need you in me, Lee. I don’t wanna wait….”

Liam grabbed Cam’s briefs and tore them off his tight little body, desperate to be back inside his Cam. After slamming Cam against the wall, Liam kicked Cam’s feet apart before he dropped to his knees and swallowed Cam whole.

Cam screamed, but Liam didn’t care. He was going to take everything Cam offered and then some! Setting a fast pace, he bobbed up and down on Cam’s straining cock, making it wet and slippery. Using some of the excess wetness, he slipped his fingers behind Cam’s balls, rubbing them along Cam’s taint until he reached Cam’s tight hole. Teasing and tapping Cam’s needy entrance, Liam shivered as precome squirted on his tongue, the taste making him even harder than before.

Shaking above him, Cam pushed back against Liam’s fingers, begging with both words and action for exactly what Liam wanted to give.


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New Release: Going and Coming (The Minnow Saint James Metaphysical Adventure #1) by Christopher Stone (GUEST POST) #MM #Thriller @bigboxoffice


Title: Going and Coming (The Minnow Saint James Metaphysical Adventures #1)
Author Name & Publisher: Christopher Stone (MLR Press)
Publication Date & Length: January 22, 2016 – 80,000 Words


At forty, Dr. Minnow Saint James, “Minn” to his friends, is a gay, metaphysical sleuth who, through Past Life Regression therapy, spans time, space, dimensions, and the entirety of God’s Creation, to discover the past, or future, life origins of his patient’s most challenging present day problems.

But Minn is also a bestselling nonfiction author. His book, In a Past Life, I…. is an international publishing sensation.

Going and Coming is the story of how Dr. Minnow Saint James became the person he is today.

In chapters that alternate between 2007-2008, and 2015-2016, we learn exactly how “Minn” transitioned from an atheist who is a slave to his five physical senses, into a professional metaphysician with a true belief in the Divine Mind we call God.

Readers may find themselves mesmerized as Dr. Saint James hypnotically regresses Ramona Burford, a student volunteer at the UCLA’s Parapsychology Lab, to a past life where, she describes everything that happens from a person’s physical death in one life, until they are reincarnated in a new body. Many readers will be surprised to learn that Pearly Gates, Judgment, Heaven and Hell, have nothing to do with what really happens.

In addition to reincarnation and the eternal nature of the personality, readers, along with “Minn,” explore metaphysical concepts including Simultaneous Time, and the erroneous physical beliefs in sickness, sin, and death.

Along the way, Going and Coming may just shatter your strongest beliefs about the very nature of reality.


Who am I?

My name is Dr. Minnow Saint James. My family and friends call me Minn. To everyone else, I am Dr. Saint James.

I was born and raised in Beverly Hills, California, amid swimming pools, movie stars, and private schools. My parents are Sheila and Russell Saint James. Father owns and operates Saint James Cadillac, six highly successful Cadillac dealerships in the San Fernando Valley. Mother, known simply as She to one and all, is Lady Bountiful to Beverly Hills at large, conceiving and coordinating many of its most prestigious charity events.

Want someone to coax an antisocial celebrity into hosting a Republican fundraiser? Mother is your go-to gal.

A youthful forty, I now live and work in Hermosa Beach, California, one of Los Angeles County’s loveliest South Bay beach cities.

Minnow, now there’s a moniker you don’t hear every day. That is, unless you happen to be me. Jokes about my first name haunted my school years. But these days, when people speak of Dr. Minnow Saint James, there’s no mention of his quirky first name. They talk about my professional achievements: You see, nowadays, I have a wildly successful practice as America’s leading Past Life Regression therapist, and I’m also the founder of the Institute for Mental Health Through Past Life Regression Therapy, -now an international organization – with my friend and former professor, Dr. Adrian Finkelstein, as the Institute’s CEO.

But what exactly is a Past Life Regression therapist? I am in the business of going and coming – that is, going into my patients’ past, and sometimes future, lives through hypnotic regression, and coming back with the other life origins of their present life challenges.

My work is cutting edge and evolutionary. Let me put it this way: medical marvels such as artificial limbs, Titanium plates and other metal joints, and pacemakers, have already transformed humans from biological organisms into creatures that are biological and technological hybrids.

Similarly the science of psychology, will soon come to understand the necessity of treating the individual’s entire mental gestalt – including what we think of as past, and even future, lives – in order for the person to achieve mental health.

In my practice, I’ve been treating that entire gestalt for the past seven years. I’m the future of good mental health; science’s better way and brighter tomorrow. But to Psychology Today, and to most of the mental health community, the jury is still out on past life regression therapy, and so they claim my work is not science based.

Nonetheless my success rate, in excess of eighty-five percent, not only speaks for itself; it is the envy of the “scientifically sound” therapies. My services are sought out by people from all walks of life, and from all over the world. My private practice has a six-month waiting list.

Quite simply, while Mother is the go-to woman for Charitable Beverly Hills, I’m the guy ya gonna call when you believe the challenges of your current life may be rooted in a past, or future, one. Often my therapy represents the last, best hope of patients who have tried and failed to achieve mental health through traditional treatments.

The profession has many perks. For one, it is much easier dealing with other people’s issues than with your own. I have a good excuse, if not a good reason, for leaving my own challenges and shortcomings unexamined.

That is how I’m able to avoid pesky questions. Questions such as: Why, at forty-years-old, am I without a spouse, a boyfriend, or even the steady hook-up? I like to think the lack of romance in my life, and the absence of booty in my bed, are products of the spiritualization of my thought, gained in the eight years since my personal transformations.

That is what I like to think. The truth may vary.


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New Release: 4.5 Stars for (Audiobook) Hell For The Company (Brimstone #1) by Angel Martinez (GUEST POST) #MM #Science Fiction @AngelMartinezrr


Title: Hell For The Company (Brimstone #1)
Author Name & Publisher: Angel Martinez (Mischief Corner Books)
Publication Date & Length: December 5, 2015 – 2 Hours, 2 Minutes


Shax, the Demon Prince of Thieves, has reconciled himself to exile. He has a grand time careening around the galaxy as a high-end, intergalactic purloiner of pretties. Everything’s going just fine, thank you very much. All right, fine, the anti-gravity cows are a bit problematic and some of his buyers are bad for his health, but he manages until he comes across an injured angel in a psychedelic alien jungle.

He only rescues the wing boy for his golden feathers, but what Shax doesn’t know about angels could fill an intergalactic encyclopedia.

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**Audiobook Review**
I had read the prequel story in this series, so I knew all of the characters already and I have to say after this installment, I want more! I love them all.. Especially the new addition! I want to know where they go from here.
The story is exciting and thrilling… and funny, just like the first one was.
The only down side for me really… was the narrator. And not entirely him, but the empty, bouncing noise of the audiobook that was distracting.
All in all, a great addition and great story.


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3.5 and 3 Stars for Fistful of Lies by Helena Maeve (GUEST POST) #MMM #Mystery @PridePublishing


Title: Fistful of Lies
Author Name & Publisher: Helena Maeve (Pride Publishing)
Publication Date & Length: November 17, 2015 – 228 pgs


If you wanted to, how would you kill your lover?

Freshly sacked from his professorship, Reuben could do without a month-long holiday on his boyfriend’s private island. But he may as well enjoy the perks while they last. As soon as details of his dismissal surface, he’s sure to wind up alone with his murder mystery fixation.

Born with a silver spoon firmly between his teeth, Leif Claeson is no stranger to loss. He and twin sister Petra could lose their father’s creaking multinational at any moment lest they fulfill his last wishes to the letter. Then again, Leif has always been something of a wild card. He’d rather vacation with his lover than worry about the future. When a stranger crashes their holiday, Leif sees only the potential for blissful debauchery. Ruben disagrees.

Power and sex make for a potent cocktail and everyone in Leif’s inner circle has a stake in what becomes of this Hellenic paradise. As Leif and Reuben struggle to reconcile their feelings with the strange happenings on the island, a chain of events is set in motion that could endanger their very lives.

Reader Advisory: This books contains scenes of MMM ménage, drug use and murder.

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I don’t know if this book is going to be part of a series, but it seemed like I needed to know more right off the bat.  It felt like I had been plopped down in the middle of a story and had to quickly catch up or be left behind.
The flow of the story, for me, was somewhat difficult.  While I like that the story was told from past and present events, it was tricky to constantly be switching back and forth.
Then, you have a somewhat predictable mystery, with a very strange resolution.  There was angst, some heart ache, emotion, but in the end, it was a flat ending for me.
The chemistry among the two main characters was OK, but there seemed to be a lot going on with not a lot of explanation or description.
Overall, this was not one of my more favorite Maeve stories and I usually really enjoy those.

So I honestly loved where this author was going with this story with the whole who done it…

But “beware this is a spoiler for some” I can not stand cheating in a book, that is one of my pet peeves and unfortunately this book is filled with it. Between this man sleeping with this man, then the next day someone else and on and on. There was just so much of it that I really was not a fan..

Then there was the fact I felt so lost through some of this book and it took me awhile to catch up. Now this book is a ménage between so I did think those parts were very steamy and hot! I did not really see a relationship between Rueben, Leif and Marcus at all. There was just to much lying and secret keeping for me to believe they fit together well.

Now the twist at the end I did not see that coming and WOW!!! I did enjoy parts of this story but unfortunately the sleeping around between all the characters in this book not just the MC’s brought down this book for me and I am sad to say as much as I really did like where this story was going this book was sadly just not for me.



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Guest Post PLUS 5, 3.5 and 3 Star Reviews for Between the Lines by J. Scott Coatsworth #MM @dreamspinners

BTL Cover

Title: Between The Lines
Author Name & Publisher: J. Scott Coatsworth (Dreamspinner Press)
Publication Date & Length: July 15, 2015 – 15,000 Words


As a writer, it’s fun when you get to choose where to set your next story. Sometimes I choose a place I know really well. Sometimes it’s a place I’ve visited a few times.  And sometimes it’s a place I’ve never been, or that exists only in my head.

But when you are writing a place that exists in the real world, I think you have an obligation as a reader to try to get the details right – and to try to capture the essence of the place.

In between the Lines, my first stand-alone novella, I hope I managed to do both.

My husband Mark and I have lived in the Sacramento area for twelve years now. It’s a quiet, humble city that doesn’t give up her charms easily – you have to know where to look. When we came here for a meeting back in the late nineties, we drove around town for half an hour looking for restaurants or gas stations and found nothing. Now I know we were just looking in the wrong part of town.

Between the Lines tells the story of a man who finds out what really lies beneath the surface – at work and at home. I like to think of it as my little love letter to Sacramento – like the city in which it’s set, there are hidden charms that only become apparent with time and familiarity.

If you live in Sacramento, or have ever spent time here, I hope the setting rings true to you. And if you haven’t, I hope it gives you a little taste of the life here in the River City.


Brad Weston’s life seems perfect. He’s GQ handsome, the Chief of Staff for a Republican California State Senator, and enjoys the power and the promise of a bright future. And he’s in a comfortable relationship with his boyfriend of six years, Alex.

Sam Fuller is Brad’s young, blond, blue-eyed intern, fresh out of college, running from a bad break-up, and questioning his choices and his new life in politics. To make things worse, Sam also has a thing for the boss, but Brad is already taken.

While looking for a gift for his boyfriend, Brad wanders into a curiosity shop and becomes fascinated by an old wooden medallion. Brad’s not a superstitious man, but when he takes out the medallion in his office, he sees the world in a new light. And nothing will ever be the same.



This was short enough I read it in about an hour. It’s a fun read with a bit of humor, a bit of drama, and a bit of magic. I loved the snappy dialog and the smooth writing style.

I’ll admit, I didn’t like either Brad or Sam at first. But as their stories unfolded, Sam’s actions were understandable, and the revelation of who he was under the surface was great. Brad had a lot of growth for such a short tale.

Anything else I say would be spoilers, so you’ll just have to trust me that this one is worth reading for the surprises.

5 stars



Between the Lines was about Brad getting an unusual medallion for his longtime boyfriend for their anniversary. This medallion has the ability to let Brad hear other peoples thoughts. What was supposed to be a gift turned out to be a lifesaver for Brad himself. Brad learned what people were thinking about not only him but about things in the political sector that he was working it. It also led to some peoples demise, which was probably the best part of the book. This short story had a lot of potential but seemed familiar at the same time, like I had read or seen something similar before. I didn’t feel the chemistry between Brad and Sam and when things finally clicked the story was over. It was just ok for me, could have had more romance or spice.



This short story was very well written. A political adventure that rivals episodes of The West Wing, which would be why I loved it. What I struggled with was the focus; if it was a romance or a political commentary, with a paranormal twist, of course, because why not and done in such an amazing way.


The ending of this piece seemed far to fast-paced compared the beginning, and it started to feel a bit like instalove to me, which I’m not a fan of. However, I loved the budding relationship, particularly with Sam’s character, and how that was interwoven throughout the politics. Brad never seemed interested in Sam to me, at least not in a romantic way, so the ending just didn’t click.




It began with a medallion.

The piece was a simple wooden disk, hand carved with the shapes of leaves and forest boughs and polished by centuries of use, giving it a patina of great age.

It sat upon a small green velvet pillow—the kind jewelers sometimes use, rather unsuccessfully, to enhance a plain necklace of false pearls. The kind you might expect to find on your grandmother’s settee, in a slightly larger size, embroidered with “Home Sweet Home.”

Yet there was something compulsive about it—something hidden in the dark crevices of the carving, filled with the dust of ages.

At least that’s what Brad would recall years later, when he thought back on the first time he saw it: the moment when the lines of his mundane life suddenly snarled, snapped, and ultimately recombined into something quite different.

Of course, he didn’t know any of this at the time.


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Filed under 3 Star, 3.5 Stars, 5 Star, AJ, Amy, Angie, Guest Post, M/M, New Release, Review

Guest Post: We, King Henry VIII Part 1 by S. Joy P @


Henry VIII of England seeks his way home – into the arms of his lost lover

on the pages of a fictional autobiography We, King Henry VIII. This new release will delight you if you love Henry and enjoy supernatural fantasy in your gay fiction. Sounds good? Read on to find out more. I’ve got a sensual excerpt for you, but let’s start with the book blurb.


On the 27th of January, 1547 AD, one hour before midnight, Henry VIII is mere three hours from his death. On his deathbed, he only pines to behold his true love for one more time. To catch but a glimpse of Adhamh’s face – that he desires above all things. For his whole life fearful of God, he would now give his mind, body, and soul to the Devil if the Dark Lord promised him but one moment with his lost lover. Only his heart Henry could not give, for Adhamh has it in his keeping. It has always been so, from the day they met. And there the story of their star-crossed love truly begins.

In the hot August of the year 1521 AD, England lazily revels in its still young King Henry VIII, the most accomplished and the handsomest monarch of the Christendom. For whole the world, Henry plays the King who lacks nothing, and who fears nobody save God. Deep inside, he is a man tormented by dark secrets shrouding his marriage, tortured by fears for the fate of his dynasty. His summer morning is not filled with idle delight; it brims with barely concealed terrors – until the moment when God sends him a sign: a wolf trapped in the royal chapel. From the first heartbeat of the unexpected encounter, the beast exudes an aura of unalloyed loyalty vested in Henry alone. Overcome with the sight of the wolf’s unconditional surrender into his hands, Henry believes him to be a messenger of God and spares his life.

But… a human heart beats in the wolf’s chest. Adhamh the Seventh, the only son of the House of Svar, the Margrave at Zuria Labarra is the second most powerful man after the King of Cerbeden – and a werewolf cast out of his world as a punishment for a fateful failure. The High Immortal who so sentenced him to die as the Devil’s Own knew nothing about an uncanny resemblance between the King of England and the King of Cerbeden. Neither does Adhamh. In Henry, he sees his own beloved liege lord, whom he could never harm. The moment of his surrender gives birth to a new unbreakable bond and triggers events which neither he, nor Henry could ever foretell.

The affection that arises between them faces constant dangers, both seen and unseen. Constraints placed on them by social norms and Henry’s religious beliefs can be overcome, but what if Adhamh is yanked back into his own world one day? This ever-present peril cannot be provided for. Nor is it the darkest threat lurking close.


And here is the promised excerpt for you:

He yipped a quiet greeting but did not come to me. Not yet. I knew what had to take place first under the pale light of the moon, and watched him as he bounced across the glade toward the log that we had dragged here four days before. Faster and faster he raced until his silhouette seemed to glide above the grass without ever touching it. The murmurs of the brook drowned out any rustle that his paws might have invoked otherwise, and so he resembled a ghost pursuing an innocent soul. Many might fear him, not so I.

He sprang into the final mighty leap, so full of vigor and life that my belly tightened in need. A part of me was right there, by his side, in the moment of the glorious pain of his transformation. And a part of me just stared at the act in awe.

He landed. Naked as always. And as always I smothered my desire. Merciful shadows of the night made it easier for me. Or… harder. For now I could actually see him in all his beauty. Aye, his mere silhouette. But my longing painted the details where my eyes could not recognize them. And I did not have to hold my gaze locked with his, or averted in a doomed effort not to intrude on his privacy. In the darkness I could blush without fear that he would notice the all-revealing redness.

Why was I never able to repress this reaction to his naked body? It was a sin to want him, and yet, no matter how hard I tried to mold my feelings for him into the pure brotherly affection, I yearned for him all the same, and the pained amorousness consumed both my flesh and my mind. He knew it not, and it had to stay so.

Steeling myself for the inevitable lash of need, I strode over to him. To hand him his clothes and thus end the moments of my greatest pleasure and the greatest torments.

“I must wash first, My King.” His voice in the shadows smiled at my impatience, and the next moment he headed toward the brook.

I followed. He honored, loved, and served me. But it was me who followed him. Always. And I suspected that it would stay so until the end of my days.

Thinking that he would just wash the blood off his face, hands, and chest, I almost stepped in the stream. For he did not stop on its bank. He just walked on, and I was catching my balance in the last possible heartbeat that remained between staying dry and landing in the water.

When my gaze found him again, a half-stifled groan escaped from my mouth. The night clearly made it all more difficult. Or Adhamh did. For he lay in the middle of the shallow brook, letting the ripples touch him just everywhere, and the nefarious light of the moon did not leave me in doubts as to where exactly the water caressed his skin.

I wanted to be water.

But I could not.

And the hopelessness of my desires spilled out of me. “She shall never retreat to a nunnery,” I all but wailed. It was not the true reason of my tension, but how could I possibly tell him the truth?

“She is on the verge of that decision,” he said, his voice joining the bewitching lullaby sung to him by the stream. “Her piety and her pain war with her pride and tenacity. Have patience, Henry.”

“I cannot bear this!” I blurted. And my gaze never left the tantalizing curves of his body. Moonlight tenderly caressed his broad chest, the alluring firmness of his slightly recessed belly, the hard and yet so elegant muscles of his thighs. And the dark nest of pubic hair in his crotch. It revealed his manhood to me, and I suddenly could not even swallow. Only stare I could… and did.

“What is it that you cannot abide?” he asked, lacing his hands behind his head.

“The waiting,” I groaned, clenching my fists to somehow hold myself back from plunging into the stream and plundering the temptation laid before me. “The irony of a wedlock that is not a wedlock at all. The lack of pleasure.”

“Fidelity is not a virtue required of great Kings.” He sat up. “Take any woman you like, discreetly.”

“I cannot just take any woman!”

“Why?” he asked, washing his face.

“Adultery is a sin.” What else could I possibly say? That I could see the droplets of water kissing his cheeks, chin, lips… In my mind I saw them and needed to take their place.

“You shall say more of your prayers,” he predicted, launching back to his feet. “You are but a mortal man, and have your needs like any other.”

Riveted on the spot, I gaped at him as he came close and closer to me. The reflection of the moonlight in the water and the light raining on him from above… I did not need much imagination to spur my want into a painful engorgement. “I am the King,” I grunted.

“Indeed,” he agreed. “And you also are a man. Which of them cannot bear the lack of pleasure?” he asked, reaching for his shirt.

“Both,” I admitted, handing him the saving piece of cloth that would soon cover his nakedness. “But I desire love, Adhamh. And I do not love any woman,” I said more than I had wanted. More than I should have. The soft sigh coming out of his nose told me so before my own mind did.


Have you enjoyed the scene? Would you like to read the book? If so, I have some great news for you. During this weekend (the 20th and 21st of June 2015) you can grab your copy just for $1.99.

Store Link:


S Joy P

And now a little about me – His Majesty’s secretary charged with writing his tale, and about the birth of We, King Henry VIII:

I was once told, “You understand the renaissance men better than you do those of nowadays.”

“Is that a flaw?” I asked.

Always fascinated with great men of the bygone era, I have been sharing their fates with people since my high school years. Currently I write for two royal patrons: Henry VIII and Vlad III (also known as Dracula). As a novelist, I spend endless hours doing research for my works and always strive to stay close to the historical reality. Of course, given the mix of historical fiction and fantasy in my novels, I take some liberties, but never disregard hard facts. Instead, I incorporate them in the story. The liberties taken fall in the territories uncharted in chronicles.

Henry VIII and I have had a two-decade-long history together, with periods of waxing and waning interest from both sides. I’ve always seen him as a virtuous prince, and I don’t like him to be portrayed as a hulk who was not in control of his eating habits, or as a vessel of illnesses and infirmities of all kinds. Even less I enjoy reading over and over again that he was a tyrant who only pursued his shallow interests, and in the process ruined the lives of his six wives.

One December night in 2013, I watched a documentary which portrayed him in a particularly vicious light. It left me with a bitter aftertaste in my mouth. How could the historians reduce a great man to a large, festering mound of lard, poke and examine him from head to toe regardless his feelings, and worse still, how could they present only findings that supported the common, simplistic view on who Henry was?

For the truth is: he is neither a monster, nor a Bluebeard of the history.

For me, Henry is the king who healed the wounds of England after the War of Roses and who truly united the whole land. He was the one who greatly elevated the image of England in the eyes of the contemporary monarchs. His court was the center of learning and culture. He broke with the corrupt Papacy, and, let’s face it, he was the one who kept wars out of England (with the exception of a short Scottish invasion which was fast crushed). His people loved him, and for all the good reasons. In fact, they loved him so much that not even the Excommunication broke his neck. It shows clearly how great loyalty he enjoyed. A tyrant or a monster never commands such feelings, such remarkable fealty.

I thought it would serve us well to remember that better, and to show him much more respect than he is getting these days.

“You shall write my story, dearest,” a tired tenor voice interrupted my silent seething.

I glanced up from my glass, already knowing whom I would see.

I would love to say I was bedazzled by a man exuding an aura of masculinity, pulsing energy, and power. But the man who carefully sank in the armchair I keep by my writing desk for my patrons was old and jaded. Yet, clad in red velvet and ermine, he still looked royalty. Just as an abandoned shrine is still a shrine, an old king is still a king. It’s enough for me to just narrow my eyes to see him in all his young glory (as you will see him while reading We, King Henry VIII Part 1). That night I had no time for that though. A stifled groan leaked out of his tightly clamped lips, forcing me to promptly offer a footstool to ease his discomfort. I was determined to make him feel better, and I could do my gazing later.

His stiff body posture relaxed a little only when I poured him a glass of wine too. He took it from my hand as a wordless invitation to stay and tell me more. We understood each other perfectly.

“You shall write my story,” he repeated after taking a draught of his drink.

“Why me, Your Majesty?”

“For you see me as I am, and yet you always recognize the virtuous prince in me. It matters not to you whether I am young or old.”

“Thank you.”

“You see through my masks and mistakes. You know who I am inside.”

“I do see your soul, yes. But I don’t write scholarly biographies, and I would do you disservice if I tried.”

“Nay, write about the man whom you know, not about the King.”

“Your Majesty, you are both.”

“Aye, but now I would I were just me.”

“I know. But there is another obstacle. I don’t write about love a man feels for a woman either. How would we handle the fact that you had six wives?”

“You shall write my story, including all of my wives.”

Let’s just say that Henry is as stubborn today as he was more than half a millennium ago.

That night we let the topic go. I’m not his subject, so he couldn’t order me to write for him. Nor did he try to. But we talked for hours about his world and above all – about him. Long story short: hours turned into days and Henry stayed. Since then he has made a remarkable recovery, so now I’m blessed with the company of a young king who exudes an aura of masculinity, pulsing energy, and power just as he did in his life.

He was right that December night. I have written his story for him. But I was right too. It isn’t a scholarly biography and it isn’t a heterosexual romance. It’s a tale of intense love between two men.

If you love Henry VIII and enjoy more than a light touch of supernatural fantasy in your fiction, avail yourself of this novel. For through his memories, you can now witness the power of a bond that changed him, and through his deeds the all of England, forever.

The promo price of $1.99 (plus VAT) is an offer you cannot pass. 75,000 words wait for you on the pages of We, King Henry VIII: Part 1.

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Before I leave you to the joys of a summer weekend, I’ll just very shortly touch the topic of my other series: Dracula’s Love.

If you love novels about Vlad III (aka Dracula), you won’t want to miss it. And as the thanks to my gracious hosts during the New Release Tour for We, King Henry VIII and to all awesome readers who have read this far in the post, I’ve decided to extend the promotional price to Dragon’s Bounty (Book 1 of Dracula’s Love) as well. Through the weekend of the 20th to the 21st of June 2015, you can purchase a copy of this book for only $1.99 (plus VAT) too:

To speak more about Dracula’s Love books would require another long post, so I’ll just say that Vlad III is yet another man whose reputation was tarnished by propaganda that is still well and alive after more than five hundred years. If you’d like to learn the truth about him, I have a gift for you: a 3,000-word-long essay that focuses on his life and sheds light on the  purposeful defamation that turned a prince in whose honor the Christendom sang Te Deums into a monster. All you need to do to get a free access to this essay is to subscribe to my newsletter here:

And now I’ll really leave you to the summer joys, hopefully full of sun and books.


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Disappear With Me Spotlight & Author Interview with Dean Pace-Frech @deanpacefrech

DisappearWithMe full siz

Title: Disappear With Me
Author Name & Publisher: Dean Pace-Frech (Amber Quill Press)
Publication Date & Length: December 4, 2013 – 261 pgs


Love is greater than hope or faith, but can Reverend Leander Norris convince a jury that the love he shares with another man is natural?

In 1910, the United Kingdom was in turmoil. King Edward died after only nine years on the throne. The social class system that upheld British society for centuries was being chipped away by social, political, and economic unrest across the Commonwealth. Amidst this backdrop, Reverend Leander Norris is accused of sodomy. After discovering his own self-worth and unconditional love, Leander finds the courage to stand up for what he believes is right and pleads not guilty to the charges. Throughout the trial, Leander’s past is revealed, including the temptations that bring the accusations against him. By the end of the trail, Leander is once again reunited with a romantic interest from the past by the end of the trial; it may be too late to rekindle any love that might remain, given the circumstances of the era and Reverend Leander’s likely sentence.

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“Are you not a scholar?” Weeks asked. “Do you not know the Bible that you preach from each Sunday?”

“I know it very well,” Leander answered. “But the Bible has many interpretations. I think you can guess that mine might be a little less than conventional.”

Weeks reclined back in his chair. He made a steeple with his fingers and rested them on his pursed lips. “You’re actually sitting here telling me that, as a man of God, you’re all right with buggery and feel you’ve done nothing wrong?”

“Mr. Weeks, do you realize you keep asking me the same question over again, using different words?”

“As your counsel, I need to be sure that I understand your position, the one you expect me to defend.”

“You sound shocked that I would suggest such a thing. I can’t have you defending me if you don’t believe it yourself.”

“Reverend, my beliefs about the situation are irrelevant; it doesn’t matter what I believe. I need to be able to defend our position in court and hope our defense can refute what the prosecution will present.”

“I have to have conviction in my sermons each Sunday morning. I think you also know you need to have conviction when defending your clients.”

“And I can assure you that I have that same conviction to make sure that you receive a fair trial. I will do my best—”

“Do your best to what? Go through the motions and make sure that the I’s are dotted and the T’s are crossed so it looks like I’ve been given a good defense?”

Weeks didn’t answer and that was all the answer that Leander needed. After a moment, Weeks tried to start again. “Look, Reverend, I am your assigned counsel for this trial. I am on your side. I want to see you get a fair trial, but you must understand what we’re up against is quite overwhelming.”

“I know; I’ve never done anything the simple way.”

“Sir, you must understand that we are going up against laws that are rooted in two thousand years of Christian tradition and about as many years of British attitude.”

“Mr. Weeks, do you love your wife?”

Weeks let out an impatient sigh. “Of course, but here you go asking intimate questions about me that have no bearing on my defending your case.”

“Humor me, sir. Do you love your wife?”

“Yes, I very much love my wife and family.”

“What if you woke up tomorrow and a constable showed up on your doorstep and arrested you because they said the love you share with your wife was illegal?”

Weeks didn’t answer him. Instead, in a quiet voice, he said, “You know you and I are just two people. We’re not going to change these laws overnight.”


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Author Post from Dean Pace-Frech – Rerelease of A Place To Call Their Own @deanpacefrech


A Place to Call Their Own Re-Release


In the game of golf, a mulligan is a shot permitted in unofficial play to a player whose previous shot was poor (, Definition 2). Basically, it’s a do-over. There are very few times in life we get a do-over, but I got one recently.

In March, I found a new home for A Place to Call Their Own. In the process, it got a shiny new cover, typos got fixed, a few details got corrected, and voile, the second edition was born.

A Place to Call Their Own was the very first novel I wrote. My husband, Thomas, and I were also new at the time, so #APTCTO carries many of the thoughts and feelings that we were going through as we established our own household, routine and life. My favorite three memories of that time (that coincide with events in the book):

1. Finding our first apartment.

2. The mild winter of 2010-2011 (I really think I brought that on by writing about it…LOL)

3. Typing The End before starting a new job (the NSEDJ I talk about now)

Thank you to Inked Rainbow Reads for hosting me again today, with the review of the first edition. Today is the first day of widespread release, so we’ve updated the links and the cover.



Frank Greerson and Gregory Young have been discharged from the Army and are headed to their childhood homes. They both defied their parents in 1861 when they joined the Army. After battling southern rebels and preserving the Union of the United States of America, the two men set out to battle the Kansas Prairie and build a life together. Once they find their claim, they encounter common obstacles to life on the Kansas Prairie in 1866: Native Americans, tornadoes, wild animals, and weather.

When a prairie fire destroys their crops and takes their neighbor’s lives, Frank and Gregory are instructed to find their young son’s aunt. Faced with leaving a destroyed claim, the railroad coming through their land, and dwindling funds, Frank and Gregory must decide whether to leave the place they have worked hard to make their own or fulfill their friends’ dying wishes.


Get it now directly from JMS Books

Amazon US



You two together, or…” Mr. McAvoy asked with a puzzled look on his face.

Mrs. McAvoy raised an eyebrow, also curious about the situation.

Gregory gave Frank a nervous and mischievous look and answered, “Ah, yes, sir. We planned to each get a claim and build one house for now, help each other out.”

The answer seemed to satisfy both Mr. and Mrs. McAvoy. “That sounds like a good idea. It’d be nice to have a few neighbors around to help with things once in a while. And what I wouldn’t give to have had just one other man to help me with some of the house building and stable. You stay around here, and you’ll need a stable. Wolves and coyotes will get your livestock if you don’t.”

“How did you protect yourself before? This stuff doesn’t get built in a day.” Gregory asked.

“It takes ’em a while to figure out you’re here. And of course, it’s worse in the winter than this time of year. They haven’t been quite so bad the last few weeks, have they?” he directed to his wife.

“No, they calmed down. Hopefully they’ve been preying on the deer that are eating my potato plants.” answered Mrs. McAvoy. “You two want to stay for supper? I’ve got a big pot of rabbit stew on the stove.”

“It’ll be good, I promise. She’s done great cooking whatever I can find for us,” Mr. McAvoy added.

Gregory ignored the invitation. “How’s the hunting around here? You do good during the winter months?”

“Yeah, in the fall it’s the best—the animals are all fat and sassy from the summer. You can tell the bucks from the does, and you don’t have to worry about orphaning a young deer like you do now. There are plenty of rabbits and prairie chickens right now. You can find squirrels…”

“And the meadowlarks do fine, too, in a pinch,” piped in Mrs. McAvoy. “Now, what about supper?”

“We appreciate the offer, ma’am,” Frank spoke up. “But we’re just trying to find us our claims and be done with traveling. We’ve been traveling nearly six weeks now. It has been that long since we had a decent home-cooked meal, but we need to keep moving on today.”

They both remembered the last time they joined anyone for dinner. The McAvoys seemed harmless, but Frank and Gregory were both a bit shy about joining anyone else at this point.

“Yeah, we’re getting close to where we want to settle,” Gregory added. “We appreciate the offer and all, but we just want to keep moving.”

Mrs. McAvoy smiled, turned, and ran into the house with her load of laundry. Neither Frank nor Gregory knew if she was hurt because they declined the supper invitation or just needed to get back to her household chores.

“We understand that. Took us nearly six months to get here from New York, where we come from. We stayed with some relatives along the way, but the missus did appreciate it when we finally stopped here.”

“Well, we appreciate your hospitality and all your help. We should probably get going,” Frank said, glancing at Gregory.

“If you happen to end up around here, don’t be strangers. Just let us know where you’re at,” Mr. McAvoy replied.

“It’s a deal, sir,” Frank said and extended his hand.

Mr. McAvoy walked over and took it. After they were done, McAvoy stepped away from the wagon.

Gregory slapped the reins and yelled “giddyap,” and the horses sprang forward.

A frantic Mrs. McAvoy yelled from inside the house, “Wait!”

Frank grabbed Gregory’s arm to stop him. Gregory pulled back on the reins.

Mrs. McAvoy came out of the cabin with a small basket covered with flour sack cloth.

“This here isn’t much, but maybe it will allow you to rest once you stop for the night. I put two crocks of my stew in there and part of the bread I baked for our supper tonight. I don’t know why I did it, but something told me to make extra bread today.”

“We’re mighty obliged, ma’am. This will help. Now we don’t have to worry about hunting anything for our dinner. We’ll just warm this by the fire and be ready to go,” Gregory spoke up.

“Yes, ma’am. We are getting a bit worn out by this trip,” Frank said. He grinned at Gregory and said, “Hopefully, we’ll be finding our home soon.”

Both men tipped their hats once more, and Gregory got the horses going again.

Dove and Daisy lumbered along for the rest of the afternoon and into the early evening. Before they realized it, the wagon climbed a gentle, gradual grade. The early evening sun blinded them as they reached the crest of the ridge. At the top, Frank looked over his shoulder where the wagon had just been. There he saw the trail left by the wagon and horses in the prairie grass. To the west, a line of trees indicated a creek, river, or some sort of waterway. The sun drenched the entire landscape in its golden hue. He looked at Gregory, and they both knew this was their new home. They had arrived on the homestead.

“Welcome home, Frankie!” Gregory yelled at the top of his lungs.



In celebration of the wide re-release of A Place to Call Their Own, I am giving away a copy of

my novel Disappear With Me.





New bw headshot

With inspiration from historical tourism sites, the love of reading, and a desire to write a novel, Dean started craftingstarted crafting his debut novel, A Place to Call Their Own, in 2008. After four years of writing and polishing the manuscript, it was accepted and originally published 2013. His second novel, Disappear With Me, set in Edwardian England was published later that same year. Both novels were re-released in May 2015.

Dean lives in Kansas City, Missouri with his husband, Thomas (legally as of February 14, 2015), and our two cats. They are involved in their church and enjoy watching movies, outdoor activities in the warmer weather and spending time together with friends and family. In addition to writing, Dean’s hobbies includeI enjoys reading and patio gardening.

Dean is currently working a standalone title, Need Your Love, set in 1966, and The Higher Law, a continuation of the story of Frank and Gregory’s family set in the 1930s.


Dean’s Web Site
Dean Pace-Frech, Author page or send a friend request Dean Pace-Frech


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