Audiobook Release Blitz: The Necromancer’s Dilemma by SJ Himes

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Title: The Necromancer’s Dilemma
Author: SJ Himes
Narrated By: Joel Leslie
Length: 7 hours 47 minutes
Series: The Beacon Hill Sorcerer #2
Release Date: July 21st 2017
Genre: MM Paranormal Romance, Fantasy

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BLURB

Even love can die without trust.

Angel’s brother, Isaac, has returned home, and the pair begins to make slow and awkward attempts back to each other. Learning how to be a brother to a grown man instead of a parental figure has Angel adjusting his behaviors and habits, and Isaac still remains a mystery. Was it merely entering adulthood that turned Isaac away from an overprotective Angel, or does Isaac carry a secret that will keep them from finally being a real family?

Daniel Macavoy, Angel’s new apprentice, is torn between his bond with Angel and the grasping machinations of his father. Dealing with a traumatized apprentice with dangerous holes in his magical education, saving Daniel may be harder than Angel first thought – especially since the biggest problem is not revenge, but guilt.

The one shining beacon in his life is Simeon, Elder vampire of Boston’s only Bloodclan. Four hundred years old and sexy as sin, Simeon is warrior and sage, patient and cunning. The strength Angel draws from Simeon’s devotion and the newborn mate-bond between them is steadfast and true – and the fount of death magic that animates the undead lord places Angel in the midst of a power struggle for control over himself, his lover, and his family.

Through it all, Angel is beleaguered by the unwanted attention of a troll-hybrid, the adventures of a dragon in the city, and a serial killer has decided to hunt the back alleys and midnight streets of Boston.

Contains male/male sexual content. Violence, gore, sex, vampires. A cute dragon and some snark. Okay, lots of snark.

Purchase: Audible US | Audible UK | Amazon US | Amazon UK | iTunes

Find The Beacon Hill Sorcerer series on Goodreads

EXCERPT

The entire back of the boy’s hand was split open by the intense heat, the skin white and thick, the flesh beneath cooked by the magic spike that turned the kettle and its contents into a kitchen supernova. The heat curled in his fingers, and the flesh was weeping fluids. Blisters distorted the edges of the worst of it, the flesh red and warped all the way up the back of his hand to his wrist. The curling of the hand was so severe he couldn’t see how badly Daniel’s palm was injured.

“Isaac, never mind, I need you here.” A burn this bad was not life threatening— not yet— Daniel was going into shock, but he wasn’t hovering on the edge of death, so Angel was unable to heal him. This injury was caused by intense and powerful heat— and so was under the purview of any practitioner with fire affinity. “You need to heal this.”

“I’m not a healer!” Isaac gasped out, but he came anyway. Angel grabbed his brother and yanked him down so they were both kneeling by Daniel’s hand. Angel held Daniel’s arm aloft, and put his other on Isaac’s shoulder.

“Isaac, all you need to do is settle into your inner sight, look at Daniel’s hand, and call to the heat in the injuries. The actual temperature has nothing to do with healing— this is a mental exercise that relies on how your brain interprets and processes the injury in his hand. It was caused by heat, and you can reverse the damage,” Angel instructed. He squeezed his hand on Isaac’s shoulder when a wave of uncertainty crossed his features. “No room for doubt. I taught you how to heal fire and heat based injuries before you even got your driver’s license, so don’t lie to yourself and think you can’t do this.”

“How… his hand… how can I fix that?” Isaac whispered, looking sick.

Book One

Title: The Necromancer’s Dance
Author: S J Himes
Series: The Beacon Hill Sorcerer #1
Narrated by: Joel Leslie
Length: 8 Hours 8 minutes
Release Date: 21st March 2017
Genre: Paranormal, Fantasy, MM Romance

1 Necromancer's Dance Audio Cover

BLURB

In a world where magic is real and evil walks amongst humanity, a young sorcerer is beset by enemies, both old and new.

Angelus Salvatore is the only necromancer in all of Boston, and his name is whispered warily by the undead and fellow sorcerers alike. He and his brother Isaac are the lone survivors of an attack by an army of the undead, in which Angel used a spell so powerful it forever marked his place in history. Now, years later, Angel struggles to balance his career as a teacher of the higher magical arts, his role as big brother, and a tenuous relationship with an Elder vampire from the local clan. When his brother’s boyfriend is used as a pawn in a mysterious plot to draw Angel out, Angel is once again drawn back into the old hostilities that fueled the Blood Wars and led to his family’s death.

Leaning on others for help is something Angel cannot do, and while he searches for clues as to who may be targeting him and his brother, Angel finds his heart steadily growing occupied with Simeon, Elder and vampire. Dealing with death magic and vampires on a daily basis may leave Angel jaded when it comes to life and staying that way, but the more time he spends fending off the ancient vampire’s attention and affections, the more he realizes he wants to give in.

Can Angel find out who wants him dead, and keep his heart safe in the process? How can he fall for a vampire, when his whole family was torn apart by an army of the undead? Death stalks the streets of Boston’s historic Beacon Hill…and there is no one more suited to battle against death than a necromancer.

Purchase: Audible US | Audible UK | Amazon US | Amazon UK I iTunes

Listen to an audio teaser from The Necromancer’s Dance at Soundcloud.

About the Author

I’m a self-employed writer who stresses out about the silliest things, like whether or not I got my dog the best kind of snack and the fact my kindle battery tends to die when I’m at the best part in a book. I write mainly gay romance, erotica, and urban fantasy, with ocasional forays into contemporary and paranormal. I love a book heavy on plot and character evolution, and throw in some magic, and that’s perfection. My current series are: The Beacon Hill Sorcerer, Bred For Love (as Revella Hawthorne), and The Wolfkin Saga. My last two novels in the Beacon Hill Sorcerer won 3rd Place in the Gay Fantasy category for the 2016 Rainbow Awards.

I live in New Orleans, where the personalities are big and loud and so are the bugs! New Orleans is rich in cultural history, and the flavor and music of the City is impossible to hide. Before that, I lived all over the United States: Tampa, Western Massachusetts, Indianapolis, and on and on…. I’m a nomad, and I’ve yet to find a place that calls to me strongly enough to become home. My faithful travel companions are my dog Micah, the numerous voices in my head who insist they all get put on paper, and the wind at my back.

Links: Website | Blog | Facebook | Facebook Fan Group | Twitter | Amazon

About the Narrator

web version joel arm

Joel Leslie is a UK transplant, growing up with American parents in a British commonwealth. A classically trained actor with an MFA in theatre from USC, he is often cast for his unique ability to deliver native, authentic combinations of American and British sounds. His great range and ability to bring characters to life with honesty, wit and versatility delights producers and listeners alike.

He is proud to have a strong following with m/m listeners and an ongoing relationship with some of the finest writers in the genre. He loves that every day he gets to share these beautiful, inspirational and empowering GLBT characters with the world. When not in the booth he spends his time chasing after two loquacious wiener dogs.

Find a list of Joel’s books on Audible

Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter

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Blog Tour: Julio’s Wolf by AC Katt

Werewolves of Manhattan Book 6

Author Name: A.C. Katt
Book Name: Julio’s Wolf
Can be read as a stand alone
Release Date: September 30, 2016
Publisher: MLR Press
Cover Artist: Lex Valentine
Pages or Words: 203 pages
Categories: Paranormal, Contemporary, Urban Wolf Shifter, Gay

 

Can an independent, stubborn human beta make room in his life and heart for a hard-headed Alpha?
Julio Reyes has had a hard life. Orphaned at fourteen, he ran away from a group home to avoid rape but wound up being an independent prostitute in NYC.  He has a life plan—go to school, become a stylist and open his own salon.

Etienne Daurensbourg is one-hundred and thirty-nine years old and fears he’ll never find his Mate until his friend Alexei introduces him to Julio. Julio is Etienne’s Mate but before he has a chance to court Julio, who is a human high beta and therefore stubborn and independent, Julio gets knifed and is forced to let Etienne provide him with a home and help to recover.Pack problems arise that may force Etienne into the pit. Will Julio be able to love Etienne despite the fact he is a loup garou?

 

The City of Oswego, NY
The Reyes Household
Nine Years Ago, Late April
“Julio, don’t you want to go out on the boat to fish with Dad and me?” His mom slapped mayo on a tuna salad sandwich and packed it in the cooler.
Julio stood in the kitchen with his hands on his hips. “I don’t like fishing, it’s yucky. I want to go to Richard’s house and play his new video game.”
“It’s the last day of Dad’s vacation. He wants to spend some time with you before he has to go back to work tomorrow.”
He rolled his eyes. Julio knew his mother was trying to use guilt so he would go fishing with them. “I’ve spent time with you and Dad for the whole week of spring break. Why do I have to go today? I’ll see Dad tonight when he comes home and every night after that. Richard’s only going to be here two more weeks.”
“Julio, you’re fourteen years old, don’t you think it’s time you stopped whining? All right, you can go to Richard’s house and play the new game. Come kiss me good-bye. Dad’s in the garage. Say good-bye to him, and we’ll pick you up at Richard’s house at four.”
His mother continued to make sandwiches.
“Thanks, Mom, you’re the best.”
She wiped her hands on a kitchen towel. “Does Richard’s mother know you’re coming?” she asked over her shoulder as she put a container of her homemade potato salad into the cooler with the sandwiches.
“Yes, she’s making lunch.” He ran over to the counter.
“Okay, dear.” Julio gave his mother a kiss and a hug and ran out to the garage.
Julio stood in front of his dad with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I’m going to Richard’s. Mom said it was okay.”
His father smiled. “I can’t say I’m not disappointed, but I know I can’t compete against Tomb Raider.” His father was straightening the tackle and packing the fishing rods in the rear of the Highlander.
Julio kissed his dad and jogged around the corner to Richard’s.
Richard Kerrigan was Julio’s best friend and the only other gay kid in their school. Naturally, they had gravitated toward one another.
Julio and Richard were best buddies. Once, they tried to kiss but they decided that they weren’t that kind of friends. Richard was moving from Oswego to Chicago in two weeks. Julio would lose his best friend. It was the most traumatic event in his young life and made his stomach hurt. After Richard left, Richard promised to call and e-mail. They might connect for a while, but their own lives would get in the way, and their long-distance friendship would disappear. Julio shrugged—What is, is was his motto. But he’d miss Richard. It was going to be lonely being the only gay kid at school. A lot of bullying might come his way.
Julio walked up the path to the yellow house with green shutters and knocked on the door. Mrs. Kerrigan answered, her hair hung partially out of her ponytail, her face appeared flushed, and a sheen
of perspiration dripped from her forehead. She wiped her forearm across her brow. “I hope you’re not expecting more than PB&J for lunch today. I’m packing.”
“No, Mrs. Kerrigan, PB&J is fi ne. I want to see Richard. We don’t have much time left.” She swept her hand over her forehead again, to brush her red bangs out of her eyes.
“We’ll have you out to Chicago, and Richard can come back tovisit.” She kept glancing at the boxes in the kitchen. She didn’t have time to talk to him.
“Where’s Richard?”
“In the den. I’ll make sandwiches at noon. Julio walked down the stairs to the lower floor of the split- level. Richard remained focused on the TV screen, playing Tomb Raider.
“Hey, Julio, check this out.”
Mrs. Kerrigan served their PB&J and a glass of cold milk in the kitchen. Richard waited for his mom to go back to her packing and whispered to Julio, “If we were at your house, we could play Tomb
Raider while we ate.”
“It’s nicer eating at a table. And this way you don’t spill milk on the game controller.” Julio teased Richard about last year’s mishap.
By the end of the afternoon Richard won seven times and he had come close only once. “Score,” Richard said as Julio went down for the last time.
“Richard, you’re such a geek.” Julio pouted.
Richard looked up at Julio and said, “Yep.”
At four o’clock, Richard’s mother came downstairs and asked Julio, “Could you wait for your mom out on the step? I have to pick up Richard’s dad from work and then we’re going out to dinner.
Your mom and dad should be here in a few minutes.”
“No problem, Mrs. Kerrigan, my parents will be here any minute.
They’re never late. I have no problem waiting on the step.”
“Well, good-bye, dear, I’m sure we’ll see you tomorrow. Richard will want to play his new game again.”
Julio walked halfway up the stairs and turned shouting down to the den, “See you tomorrow, Richard.” There was no answer.
Richard was immersed in the game.
§ § §
“Of all the things we have to do as a cop, this is the worst,”
Officer Joe Pennetta told his partner, Mike Dolan.
Dolan straightened his holster.
“Yeah. I spoke to the neighbors when we stopped at their house after we tried to make the notifi cation.
The neighbors said there was no other family. He’s at the Kerrigan’s house around the corner. The one in the house on the right told me in confidence that the poor kid is gay. There are no foster homes that want to take gay kids around here so he’s headed for the group home over in Fulton. He won’t even be able to stay in the same town, never mind the same school.” Dolan sighed. “Maybe his friend’s parents will take him in.”
Pennetta turned on to Clover Street. “Maybe…” He doubted that they would get anyone to take the kid except for the County group home. A social worker waited at the stationhouse for Julio. Their job
was to notify the survivor and bring the kid in, that was it. But he hated the looks on the people’s faces when he had to break the news.
Pennetta and Dolan pulled up to Number Twenty-two Clover Street. A kid sat on the step, crying. The offi cers got out of their vehicle and walked toward the concrete steps that led to the house.
Pennetta, as the senior partner took the lead. “I’m looking for Julio Reyes.”
The kid sniffled. “That’s me.”
Had someone else told him about his folks?
“Why are you crying?” Dolan wasn’t the most sensitive of men.
“My parents said they’d come for me at four. The Kerrigans had to leave. I think my parents are mad at me because I didn’t want to go fishing today.” Julio wiped his nose with a tissue.
“Kid, your parents aren’t coming.”
Pennetta kicked Dolan.
“Why? All I did was ask them not to take me fishing. They couldn’t leave me because of that. I kissed them both good-bye. They didn’t look angry.” Tears poured down Julio’s cheeks.
“Your parents weren’t angry at you.” Pennetta sat down next to him on the step. “There was an accident…”
“Are they okay? When can I see them?”
The kid panicked and now he was about to deliver the killing blow.
“They drowned in Lake Ontario in the wake of a fishing trawler. We sent divers down, but we couldn’t recover the bodies. Do you have anyone you can stay with?” Dolan asked.
Pennetta kicked Dolan again and hissed, “Give the kid a chance to process what we told him.”
“I should have gone with them. They should have made me go,” Julio shouted in rage, almost hysterical. “Then I’d be with them.”
“Calm down, kid. There’s nothing you could have done. They’re gone. You have to deal.” Dolan turned toward the squad car.
Pennetta scowled at Dolan then turned to the boy. “Your name is Julio, right? We have to take you down to the station house. A social worker will be waiting there, and they’ll help you decide what to do next. It won’t be too bad.” They walked to the squad car, Julio trailing behind them.
Dolan muttered, “At least I didn’t lie to him. Fulton is going to be awful for a kid like that.” Julio sobbed behind them.
Pennetta elbowed Dolan. “Give the kid a break. At least let him grieve before he knows what’s in store for him.” He shook his head.
“Can I at least pack a bag?” Julio asked amidst his sobs.
“Yeah, we’ll take you over to your house to get some of your things. Social services will help you deal with the rest of it.”
§ § §
Julio got into the patrol car and never saw the Kerrigans again.

By the time they held a service for his mom and dad, Richard was in Chicago with his parents, and he was in a home where the boys referred to him as fresh meat. Had the Kerrigans known where they took him? If so, Richard would have at least called. With both his parents and Richard gone, he had no one.

CHARACTER INTERVIEW

What is your character’s name? Does the character have a nickname?  Etienne Daurensbourg

What is your character’s hair color? Eye color? Black hair, Blue eyes

What kind of distinguishing facial features does your character have? Very handsome

Who are your character’s friends and family? Alexei Davidoff, Armand La Marche and the other six members of the Loup Garou Council

Where was your character born? Chicago Environs Where have they lived since then? All over the world he is one hundred thirty-nine years old, now Chicago and NYC

Where do they call home? NYC

Where does your character go when they’re angry? Reads

What is their biggest fear? Who have they told this to? That he won’t find his Mate in this incarnation

Who would they never tell this to? Anyone except Alexei Davidoff

Do they have a secret? He’s a werewolf

A little more….

When your character thinks of their childhood kitchen, what smell do they associate with it? Sauerkraut? Oatmeal cookies? Paint? Why is that smell so resonant for them?  Going to Alpha training with Armand La Marche and Alexei Davidoff he thinks of the elk they brought down together.

Your character is doing intense spring cleaning. Etienne’s housekeeper, Bianca and his factotum, Théo clean along with three helpers.

It’s Saturday at noon. What is your character doing? Etienne is sitting in his home office working on Council or Garou Corporation business.

What is one strong memory that has stuck with your character from childhood? Why is it so powerful and lasting? Training to be an Alpha, a feeling a separation from others in his pack because he was born an Alpha. Also being assigned his Betas, Adrien and Gilbert. Dreaming of his Mate.

Your character is getting ready for a night out. Where will they be going? What do they wear? Who will they be with? Puts on a tuxedo to go to a charity affair for Garou as its Public Relations and Advertising Chief.

Does your character have pets? Not until Julio brings his cat.

 

 


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A.C. Katt

AC Katt: AC didn’t discover her muse until she was older. She loves to write and now writes constantly. She just moved from New Mexico back to New Jersey with her husband and her naughty cat Bandit, who lives up to his name.
Where to find the author:
Twitter:  https://twitter.com/ackatt @ackatt

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2893673.A_C_Katt

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Blog Tour: Dead Camp Series by Sean Kerr

Dead Camp Book 1

Sometimes the past refuses to stay buried, and sometimes it comes back to bite you in the ass.

 

Blurb

Eli is an ancient vampire with an ego the size of a planet and a sex drive to match, but his tumultuous past left him broken, so he hides from humanity and cowers from love, left to endure the crushing guilt that haunts his every waking moment. Even his best friend, Malachi, a ghost who is hopelessly in love with Eli, remains unaware of all that transpired in London. Malachi can never know the truth.
When the Angel Daniyyel pays an unwelcome visit, Eli must face his secrets, secrets that he has tried so long to hide. To make matters worse, a chance encounter with the most beautiful man he has ever seen shatters his beloved isolation, pushing him into the world of the living once more. Something about this strange man seems so familiar, but Eli can’t even remember who he was before he became a vampire, never mind explain the unwanted emotions the enigmatic stranger ignites in his dead heart. So Eli has a choice – return to the world that ruined him, or continue his self-imposed exile with no hope of salvation.

Kindle Edition, 238 pages
Published December 22nd, 2015 by eXtasy Books
Erotic Romance, Gay, GLBT, Historical, Horror, Paranormal, Vampire
🌟 Nook  🌟 Kobo 🌟 Add To Goodreads

 

 

Dead Camp Book 1 Excerpt

With a sickening wet sound, his body finally broke free of the earth. A cry of agony burst from between his perfect lips and his head fell back against my shoulder. I felt his long eyelashes brush against my neck as his eyes flickered in defiance of the blackness trying to consume him.
“Stay with me fella, stay with me, we’ll be home in a jiffy.”
Home, back to my castle, what the fuck was I thinking? I was out of my little fucking mind. I didn’t know the man. I owed him nothing. I had an Angel in my dining room and a German soldier in my dungeon and to top things off, I lived with a ghost. Yet I still wanted to take him home? No, I was intent on taking him home, I had decided that the moment I saw him.
But why, why should I get involved, why should I tread that path again, the path that could only lead to pain. It always did. And yet, as I held him in my arms I felt it, something inescapable, something that I could not understand, a stirring, a feeling, like something found when all hope of ever finding it had been forgotten. Something complicated.
A tingle of warning trickled up and down my spine making my hair stand on end. I lowered the hunk to the ground, slowly, carefully and whispered into his perfectly shaped ear. “Remain quiet.”
In a flash of lightning speed, I leapt into a tree, clinging with one hand to a thick branch while my legs wrapped around its thick girth. Someone was out there and not just Mr Fuck Me He’s Perfect. The smell of human, living heart pumping human was unmistakable, that incomparable odour carried on the wind to entice my nostrils and excite my senses, and I was dutifully excited. But there was something else there too, a feint undercurrent, an elusive aftertaste that went beyond sweat and skid-marks, an elusive scent that pricked at my memory, the smell of Demon.
I saw him then, a German soldier winding his way through the field of corpses. His uniform, a grey green feldbluse replete with bottle green collar and shoulder straps, made him almost invisible amongst the branches and the sludge. I could not see his face beneath his field cap but I could easily make out the eagle and swastika emblem embroidered on the bottle green cloth and I noted with disgust the Sturmgewehr semi-automatic rifle hanging loosely from his shoulder.
The Nazi stood barely six metres away from my injured future husband. Do not move lovely man, I said to myself, do not move and don’t make a sound and if you can, be still your beating heart, because to me it sounded like a jackhammer pounding through the forest. He was frightened and in pain. His eyes darted everywhere looking for me, desperate for me, pleading for me to drag him out of that Hell.
I saw the agony flash across his face before the sound escaped his lips. My entire body tensed. Too late, the soldier heard his pain.
He was running then, running towards my Adonis in the pit. Without hesitation, I soared through the air and landed with feline grace before him. The soldier fell backwards with a bloodcurdling scream. The rifle landed at my feet and I picked it up, rising to my full magnificent height, slowly and with purpose, relishing every moment of fear that blossomed across the soldiers white features. I snapped the weapon as easily as though it were a twig and threw the shattered weapon at his feet, watching with satisfied relish as he scrabbled backwards in the mud, his mouth curling away from his face as his terror burst from his throat.
“Demon! You are not from the camp. What are you?”
My teeth extended and my eyes flashed black. My Vampire was out. In one swift movement, barely visible to the human eye, I leapt at him, pulling him off the floor with effortless ease, lifting his flailing body high above my head. I threw him with all my might at the nearest tree. His spine snapped with an audible bang as his fragile body wrapped itself backwards around the trunk of the trembling pine, his lifeless body sliding to the ground and my stomach rumbled. Dinner was served.

 

Dead Camp Book 2

It is said that the Devil is in the detail, but what if the Devil was in you?

Blurb

The world is at war, a war determined to involve Eli, whether he likes it or not. Hitler, his dark army of feral vampires, and even the Devil himself, all conspire against Eli, leaving him no choice but to fight back, risking Malachi’s soul in the process.
Eli is determined to find Ethan’s father, no matter the cost to himself or Malachi, and in a place filled with death and unending cruelty, Eli realizes that some truths should remain buried, and some truths are just too terrible to bear. When the old enemy, demons from Eli’s dark past, find him once more, they reveal a secret so impossible, so terrible, that it pushes Eli to the very edge of his endurance. They took his boyfriend from him once, and the secrets that they reveal about the man he once loved threaten to strip Eli of everything that he holds dear, pushing him to the edge of his sanity.

Eli thought that he had nothing left to lose, but at Welwelsburg Concentration Camp, he realizes that he was very wrong.

ebook, 206 pages
Published February 15th, 2016 by eXtasy books
Erotic Romance, Gay, GLBT, Historical, Horror, Paranormal, Vampire

 

🌟 Extasy Books 🌟 Amazon US 🌟 Amazon UK
🌟 Nook  🌟 Kobo 🌟 Add To Goodreads

 

 

Dead Camp Book 2 Excerpt

Three prisoners had died in my block that night, two elderly and one young man not old enough to grow pubes. It sickened me. Never, in all my years, had I witnessed such a callous waste of human life. And then to see my fellow prisoners undressing the dead, striping their cold stiff bodies before my unbelieving eyes horrified me even more, and I clung onto Jakob’s broken body for dear life. All around me the clunk of bodies against wood and concrete. My eyes tried not to see and my ears tried not to hear.

 

A cold clammy hand gently caressed my arm and I nearly shot off my shelf in shock. I didn’t scream. I refused to scream.

 

“My friend, I’m sorry, my friend, but you must undress him. The rubbish men will be here soon and you must strip him of all clothing before they take him. Please, you must do this for him—they will be less kind than you. Do you understand?”

 

“Why? Why must we do this?”

 

“His clothes are of value, my friend. They will be re-used for the next intake.”

 

“And what of his body, what will become of Jakob?”

 

“You don’t want to know, my friend.” His whispered words made every hair on my body stand on end. A sound outside caused him to return to his unsavoury task with renewed urgency. “Quickly, they are here.”
What followed felt like a dream. I had undressed many a man under many circumstances, but that was a first. Already poor Jakob stiffened, and it pained me to hear and feel his bones crack as I gently prised his pale thin body from the clothes. I whispered my apologies into his unhearing ears and I hated my eyes for glancing across his pale dead flesh.
I had to free them, all of them. That place, that death camp, it had to end.
I lifted his dead naked body into my arms. Emotion, so alien to me, invaded the shrivelled blackness that was my soul, and I knew my eyes betrayed my grief. Emotions made you weak. Emotions made you vulnerable, emotions hurt. And I was hurting. The passing of that human, that mortal man I had known for less than a day, had brought back that affliction from which I had been running from for so very long.
I had only opened my heart to the world again but for the briefest of moments. And already I felt pain.
Gideon hurt me. He made me feel unloved, unwanted, he made me feel ugly. How I would crave for his touch, how desperate I was for his love, to feel the thrill of his fingers upon my bare flesh, to feel his attraction to me, to feel wanted. But all he ever did was refuse me. Every time I tried to touch him, he turned me away. He was not in the mood, he told me to come back later.
Come back later.
But later never came.
I carried that pale body into the grey wet misery of morning. The sun was trying desperately to penetrate the thick layers of brooding clouds that clung stubbornly over the camp, but the sun was losing. Rain dripped incessantly from the skies, melting the remaining snow into a muddy slush. Grey skies, grey ground, grey people. The camp drained the colour out of everything. Welwelsburg was like me, a vampire, sucking the life out of everything it encountered, sucking away hope and dignity, leaving nothing but pale grey husks clinging to the brink of existence.
Two men stood next to a large flatbed trolley. Dead, naked bodies lay crumpled in a pile on top of the trolley, legs and arms sticking out at all angles like some grotesque starfish. I saw children amongst the corpses.
Pale white flickering figures surrounded the trolley. Insubstantial wisps of lives spent before their time. The rubbish men looked at me expectantly but I could not move for the sight of those spectral beings and I clutched Jakob’s dead body tightly to my chest, unwilling to relinquish my charge. If I put him on that trolley then he would be dead, another lump of cold meat on the pile. He deserved more than that.
The ghostly figures turned to look at me, each one knowing me, seeing me, seeing me see them. And they smiled at me. Cold shivering prickles erupted across my skin as their eyes took me in and they were such kind eyes, such trusting eyes. A figure pushed its way between them, its shadowy form brushing gently against the others as it came to stand before me.

 

Dead Camp Book 3
 
 
 

Blurb

To understand the present, you must first understand the past.
As Wewelsburg castle burns, Eli carries Isaiah to safety. So much is lost, Malachi is gone, the Demon from Eli’s terrible past is reborn into a world already at war, and to make matters worse, Gideon is back. Yet, before Eli can even reach the sanctuary of his home, he learns a painful truth about Gideon, the truth of why he left him, and Eli can barely hold onto his own sanity. Eli quickly understands that not everything in life, or death, is black and white, and sometimes to protect the ones we love, we have to make the greatest sacrifice of all.
Something is coming. Eli can feel it, there, in the darkness, taunting him. The truth of his own mysterious identity. But the road to the truth is paved with the pain of a story that he has to hear, a story that will change his perception of history forever, a story of great love, and a story of two lovers who died to change the world. He does not want to hear it, he does not want to believe it, but if he is to understand who he was, if he is to understand why he was made Vampire, he has no choice but to listen as history unfolds before him.
With Morbius close at his heals, the truth is finally out, and Eli can either allow himself to be crushed beneath the burden of his own identity, or allow the world to be consumed by the evil knocking at his door.

 

Death is just the beginning – love is the end.

Dead Camp Book 3 Excerpt

Running, again. All my life, running. Paderborn forest flashed by in a blur of verdant violence that hurt my retinas it looked so lush, so majestic, all so fucking beautiful. It made my skin crawl. Everything around me looked so bloody…green. That was Eli’s thing, not mine. I preferred the immutable hardness of concrete, the undeniable strength of steel, give me brick and marble as opposed to never-ending trees and grey mountains, anytime.

 

While Eli cowered from the world surrounded by the thick stone walls of Alte, I hide amidst the pumping hearts of the living, yet we both remained fugitives against our own history. The truth, that thing that I feared for so very long, finally there for all to see, fucking us in the ass. History now hammered at our door, and nothing could keep it at bay.

 

How much did my blood reveal? How much of the truth did he drink? The look on his face as my blood hit the back of his throat, it burned my flesh away to reveal the liar he always suspected me to be. I saw it in his eyes, it blossomed there like a bad joke, the dawning realization of all that I had kept from him, the sudden knowledge that I made him.

 

Still, not all the truth filled his mouth. That shit storm would come soon enough, more crap than I could shake a stick at. Everything that happened in Judea, everything that transpired in London, all of it, all of it there for him to see at last. A stranger once told me that the truth would eventually bleed out, no matter how far from Eli I ran, and there I stood, bleeding.

 

“Don’t let me go back to Eli,” I asked of him.
“You love him that much?”
“Yes.” I did love him that much, enough to spend twenty-six years entombed in a block of ice.
It was my choice, my decision. To remain free meant returning to Eli, for I could not resist his pull any longer, and they would have followed me, as they always followed me, straight into the arms of my beloved Eli. I could not allow that to happen. I had to protect Eli at all costs.
Centuries of love, and still not enough time. A man must know his worth. A man must know his own name. A man must learn the truth of his own heart. I remained but a teacher, and Eli my pupil, and now I would have to set him free.
My God, had it come to that? The end, finally here? The weight of history pounding at the door, I could hear it, I could feel it tearing at my skin, trying to get in, telling me that it was over, that Eli no longer needed me. Time. Fucking time. Endless bloody time. Now, there was none. I was free, running through the forest towards him, towards one of the most important figures that history had ever known. So yes, the time had come, my freedom proved that, but it was the pain in my heart that told me so.
I stopped, my world spinning around me in a dizzying frenzy of utter panic. Bile filled my mouth. The final end. History, about to convulse in agony, and we would be at the centre of it.
They would be coming for me. They would be coming for Eli. They would be coming for the Spear.
I felt the cold fingers of fear grip my chest and squeeze my heart with cruel intent. The pain, so sharp, so terrifying, ripped through my body until I lay on my knees gasping, trembling, blinded by agony and helpless. My hands dug into the nearest tree, fingers digging into the bark, digging into the wood, until the sap ran freely over my knuckles, the tree indelibly wounded, as I myself lay ineradicably wounded. The thing, the splinter, moving inside me, burning its way through me, seeking out my Vampire heart, ate away at my resolve, and offered me visons of a past mortality.
Blood drawn to blood. History drawn to history. Death drawn to death.
I heaved myself to my feet, determined to move, determined to go on. There was still time, time for me to tell my story, time for me to lay it bare before the one I loved. Time for him to forgive me.
For so long I denied Eli my blood, but in that one moment of pity, as he lay on that hill above the ruins of the camp, tired, desperate, I allowed him to feed. My blood is strong, the strongest of us all, and it filled his mind with so much information, all of it so fleeting and momentary, a cacophony of images that would burn anyone less than he. Thank fuck he did not have time to see it all, not there, on that mountainside under the shadow of so much death, it would not seem fitting somehow.
It would not befit the man that he used to be.
I feared what it would do to him, the knowledge of his own identity. If he had looked into my blood long enough, he would have seen the burden of his own dark history staring back at him, and I feared that it would destroy him now as surely as it destroyed him then, all those years ago in a world that did not know any better. It remained a burden that killed a part of me with every passing day. I lost Eli on the day I turned him, and from the moment that he first looked upon me with his Vampire eyes, I knew that he could never truly be mine. Another owned his heart, and the truth of it tortured me for hundreds of years. Eli was but on loan, until the day that another should claim him as their own.
That stranger in Rome, he knew, he knew this day would come — he knew everything, that funny little man who became my friend.
 
 

 

Bucket List

 

  1. Retire to Barcelona where I can write, surrounded by gorgeous Spanish men
  2. Write an episode for Doctor Who
  3. Write the next Alien film
  4. See my Dead Camp series made into a film or a Netflix series
  5. Go on a world cruise on a Luxury Liner
  6. Travel around America and Canada (there are some people there I particularly want to visit!)
  7. Earn enough from my writing to enable me to give up the day job.
  8. Share a bed with Hugh Jackman
  9. Be the first gay man to play the role of Norma Desmond in Andrew Lloyd Webbers Sunset Boulevard
  10. I want a naked house boy to attend to my every need – possibly in the shape of Hugh Jackman or Henry Cavill.

 

An E-Copy of Dead Camp 1

a Rafflecopter giveaway https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js

Hi everyone, my name is Sean Kerr, and I am a 46-year-old gay man living in Cardiff, Wales, with my husband of 28 years, Derek. We have two cats, Rita and Harry, and a host of tropical fish.
By day, I am an Interior designer, and I have had a shop, Home Zone, in Cardiff with my amazing business partner Jayne, for eleven and a half years. It has, and continues to be a struggle, the recession hit a few years after we opened, and it has been challenging to say the least. I consider myself to be lucky though, because the shop pays me a wage, and I have been lucky enough to furnish my house with lovely thigs because of it, and I really do have some spectacular curtains lol.
I worked on building sites for years, and I used the money earned from that to put myself through college, specialist paint techniques etc. I trained in fine art, and then I went out and painted murals on client’s walls, and created Roman Bathrooms and fantasy, hand painted bedrooms, all the rage back in the late eighties and nineties. I then became the Interior Designer for a large DIY chain, and that is where I met Jayne, my business partner, and the rest is history.
By night I am an Author, and I am proud to be an author for Extasy Books. I currently have three books under my belt, with extasy about to release Dead Camp 3. I am also working on a secret project at the moment, something between book 3 coming out, and starting book 4 in the Dead Camp series. I love writing, so very much. It has always been my dream, and the wonderful Extasy Books has made my dream come true, and it is a world that I am totally in love with, and I hope to be a part of for a very long time to come.

★ October 3

Spreading The Word With Denise&Donna – Book Promo & Author Interview
Bookslaidbareboys – Book Promo & Review
Louise Lyons Author – Book Promo & Author Interview
2 girls who love books – Book Promo & Author Interview
Passionate Reads & Reviews – Book Promo & Author Interview
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Because Two Men Are Better Than One – Book Promo & Author Interview

★ October 4

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Fiction Conviction Book Blog – Book Promo & Author Interview
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#8sunday Weekend Writing Warriors: William-4

wewriwa_square_2

http://www.wewriwa.com/

Welcome Writing and Reading Warriors!

Follow the link above for more stories and authors 😀

I’m starting a new project, one that needs to be completed by the late fall. I’ve joined a group of very talented authors who are writing about the Knights of the Black Order, a paranormal action/suspense/MM romance medieval-inspired series created by Thianna D. Durstan, which will be published by Dreamspinner Press. Each knight of the Order has a story to tell, and this is the start of William’s story, a young serf in Normandy….

*

A knight stood about twenty paces away. The man removed his helmet and began to look about him. He dropped the chain mail coif from his head, perhaps so he could hear better, and revealed a sheaf of dark hair at the front of his head, the back shaved so the hair did not become entangled in the metal links. Dark good looks, blue eyes, and he appeared young despite the shadow of beard. A purple bruise lay on his cheek.  He set the helmet down and drew a long knife from his belt.

In that moment William knew his father was dead.

tudors-knight-wallpaper

(http://getasword.com/blog/536-knight-wallpapers-volume-ii/)

 

 

#8sunday Weekend Writing Warriors: William-3

wewriwa_square_2

http://www.wewriwa.com/

Welcome Writing and Reading Warriors!

Follow the link above for more stories and authors 😀

I’m starting a new project, one that needs to be completed by the late fall. I’ve joined a group of very talented authors who are writing about the Knights of the Black Order, a paranormal action/suspense/MM romance medieval-inspired series created by Thianna D. Durstan, which will be published by Dreamspinner Press. Each knight of the Order has a story to tell, and this is the start of William’s story, a young serf in Normandy….

*

 

He lay panting beneath the brambles and thorns, the sweat and blood dripping from his over-heated skin.

“Da?” he whimpered.

“William?” His step-mother’s whisper startled him. The children in their hiding place began to cry.

“Hush, mama!” he whispered as loud as he dared. “Keep the little ones quiet.”

The rattle of a horse’s tack, the soft, almost surreptitious clink of chain mail reached William’s ears a moment after the last child had fallen silent behind him with nary a hiccup to betray them. He peered out from among the thick brambles and branches.

knights the baldwin project

(photo credit: The Baldwin Project http://www.mainlesson.com/display.php?author=tappan&book=bold&story=page)