Book Blitz & Excerpt: Hit the Brakes + Giveaway

hit the breaks


Book Title: Hit the Brakes (Food Truck Warriors #2)

Author: Beth Bolden

Cover Artist: AngstyG Book Cover and Media Design

Release Date: April 8, 2021

Genre: Contemporary gay romance

Trope/s: Fake boyfriend, former high school crush, bisexual awakening, professional athlete

Themes: Coming out, accepting help, building trust

Heat Rating:  4 flames  

Length: 88 000 words

It’s the second book in the series but can be read as a standalone.

Add on Goodreads


Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |   Amazon UK 

hit the breaks

 Can they fake it til Tate makes it?



Tate Ward is in a bind. His food truck hasn’t been the runaway success he’d always dreamt it would be. When he tries to join a new food truck collective to gain a larger following, his sales aren’t even high enough to win a spot. What he needs is a high profile endorsement—and he knows just the guy.

Tate hasn’t seen Chase Riley since high school. It’s been ten long years of watching from a distance as Chase conquers football fields and fan’s hearts.

Tate never wanted Chase to know that he had the world’s stupidest crush on him, because he always believed Chase was straight.

But desperate times call for desperate measures . . .

When Chase offers a tempting plan that could fulfill all his dreams, Tate knows he can’t say no. All he has to do is pretend that his very real feelings are actually fake.

But faking it with Chase, while leading to wild success and even wilder nights, is everything that Tate feared it would be. All it’s done is leave him wanting the impossible: Chase’s heart.



A few minutes later, Tate re-emerged from the shiny silver truck, carrying a paper plate in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.

He headed in Chase’s direction, and without saying a word, sat down opposite him and slid the plate across the table.

“Rachel’s heating up the mac and cheese. It’ll be out in a second.”

“No soup?” Chase wondered.

“We’re out.” Tate shrugged. “Busy day. Shouldn’t have come at the end of lunch hour.”

“I had a meeting,” Chase said. One he probably could’ve canceled, but he also knew what would happen if he’d shown up when there was a crowd here. It’d have become a circus, and he wouldn’t have gotten a moment alone to talk to Tate.

The grilled cheese was perfectly browned and crispy, glistening at the edges with butter and melted cheese. It looked just as good as Chase remembered, and when he bit into it . . . bliss.

He chewed and swallowed. Wished he had about a thousand other bites. “This is even better than I remember it,” Chase said.

Tate drummed his fingers against the worn wooden grain of the tabletop impatiently. “It’s been ten years. I was a kid. I’ve refined the recipe since then.”

“I don’t suppose you’d tell me your secret ingredient,” Chase wondered.

Tell me all your secrets. Please.

“Secret ingredient? Time? Patience?” Tate seemed annoyed he was here, and maybe it was his fear of being found out but, deep down, Chase was worried it was something else. Maybe it had only been Chase who’d been so affected by their classes together twice a week. He hadn’t wanted to believe that was true, because he knew flirting and Tate had undeniably flirted with him. Had always responded, even when Chase hadn’t really known what they were doing.

Honestly, he still didn’t know what they’d been doing.

Chase finished one triangular half with three more big bites. “Well, I thought about this sandwich a lot,” he said.

I thought about you.

Tate looked incredulous. “I made you one grilled cheese sandwich, in high school, and you’ve been thinking about it ever since? For ten years?”

It sounded ridiculous when Tate put it like that. “Well, it was a good sandwich,” Chase retorted. “And so is this one.”

“Does this mean you’re not going to sue us?”

Chase groaned. “I never planned on suing you. I just wanted . . .” What had he wanted? He hadn’t let himself contemplate exactly what it was that he wanted from Tate, hadn’t given himself the chance, but now, even with Tate seemingly annoyed, that indescribable tension hummed between them.

He’d wanted to know that he hadn’t misremembered or imagined it after all. He’d wanted to know if it had been real.

“No? You just came here to intimidate me?”

“Oh for God’s sake,” Chase said. “I’m not here to sue you or intimidate you or any of that crap. Is it so hard to believe I just wanted to see you again? See how you’re doing?”

Tate stared at him. Those gray eyes—usually so warm but opaque now—had always unnerved him. Before, in the best possible ways. But now? Chase didn’t know what to think.

“You really aren’t here to demand I stop talking about you?”

Chase shrugged. “You posted that you make my favorite sandwich in LA. Technically, it was true. You did, just ten years ago. And now I’ve confirmed, officially, that you still do.”

Tate tugged off his beanie and ran his hand through his hair, the auburn strands of it shining in the mid-afternoon California sunshine. “I’m sorry, it’s just hard for me to believe that you’re not pissed.”

“I could pretend to be pissed off if it’d make you feel better,” Chase offered.

Tate chuckled. “No, no, that’s okay. I’m . . . I guess I’m just surprised. I’d have thought you’d hate people who use your name.”

“Most people, yeah,” Chase admitted, biting into the second half of his sandwich. “But you’re not most people. Never have been.”


About the Author 

A lifelong Pacific Northwester, Beth Bolden has just recently moved to North Carolina with her supportive husband. Beth still believes in Keeping Portland Weird, and intends to be just as weird in Raleigh.

Beth has been writing practically since she learned the alphabet. Unfortunately, her first foray into novel writing, titled Big Bear with Sparkly Earrings, wasn’t a bestseller, but hope springs eternal. She’s published twenty-three novels and seven novellas.


Author Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |   BookBub

Instagram  |  Newsletter Sign-up




Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win a $25 Amazon gift card

a Rafflecopter giveaway


Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

Follow the tour and check out the other blog posts and reviews here

Book Blitz: Interview with a Seducer, by Maggie Tideswell

interview with a seducer rdb BANNER

Title: Interview with a Seducer
Author: Maggie Tideswell
Genre: Paranormal Ghost Romance
Editor: Toni Cox from Dragan Proofing
Publication Date: April 13th, 2021
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR

Trip Murgatroyd is a hotter than hot escort. He is happy with his life, with what he does for a living – he is comfortable in his own skin.

Then he receives an unusual request – to be Rachel’s 30th birthday gift. Given the minimum of information about her, but booked for a full night with her, he immediately knows she is different to his clients.

She comes with baggage – her late husband. That she only wants to ‘talk’ about his profession, he doesn’t believe for a moment. It all adds to the initial allure.




International bestselling author of spooky paranormal romance, Maggie Tideswell never planned to write ghost stories. She actually wanted to write romance, hot, steamy, full of emotion. You know the kind – boy meets girl, they fall in love, then boy loses girl and wants her back… 

But, before she knew it, there was a persistent ghost on the page who wouldn’t get out of the way of real storytelling. The only thing to do was to give him a job. If he wanted to be part of the story, he had to work for it. 

Maggie soon found that the trick was to combine things that couldn’t be rationally explained, with sweaty bodies and rumpled sheets in such a way that toes curl and hair stand on end. Married to a chef, Maggie is nearly as passionate about creating new dishes as she is about creating alpha heroes every woman could fall in love with, just as she does, every time.

Author Links:



Book Blitz & Excerpt: Synapse Nine + Giveaway

Synapse Nine Banner

Synapse Nine by Eilis Muir

Book 1 in the Deep Mesa series

Word Count: 70,759
Book Length: SUPER NOVEL
Pages: 282



Add to Goodreads

Book Description

Elana denied her special abilities so she could live an ordinary life—until she’s recruited into a top-secret project involving something otherworldly.

The demands of followers seeking answers from Elana Ryan’s special abilities had taken a toll. To feel normal again, she got a job working at Los Alamos National Lab. It worked—until she was recruited into a top-secret project to use the very gifts she’d left behind.

The project’s head scientist, Dr. Cameron Graeme, is pushy and arrogant, but Elana is also inexplicably drawn to him. As her abilities grow, she finds that his presence amplifies her powers. Now she fears her feelings for him and the intentions of the government.

Dr. Graeme finds Elana irresistibly alluring, which conflicts with his responsibilities for her as an asset.

They resist their mounting mutual desires, but something more powerful than either of them has a different plan in mind.


This was the farthest Elana had ever been on the Los Alamos National Lab campus. She unzipped the soft-top window of her 2005 lime-green Jeep Wrangler at the gate and handed her badge to the guard. He inspected it and handed it back with a smile. “Have a nice day!”

Another day, another interview, she thought. She passed several technical area intersections with buildings that resembled prisons fenced in with barbed-wire coils before she turned at the TA17 sign. Ponderosa pines straddled the straight road for the ten-minute drive to a group of one-story concrete buildings marked TA17, at the end of the mesa. She parked in front of building TA17-1, the Weapon Experiments Control Center, refreshed her red lipstick, straightened the barrette holding her strawberry-blonde mane and checked for smudges in her tortoise-shell glasses in the visor mirror. Good to go. She clipped her badge to her blazer, and with her portfolio case in hand, she headed to the entrance. Signs on the door read ‘Q’, which meant ‘Q-level cleared only, no electronic devices’. She inserted her badge into a console, entered a code into the keypad and the door clicked for entry.

At the reception, Elana greeted a young Hispanic woman. “Hi, I’m Elana Ryan, special investigator with the Defense Counterintelligence and Security Agency.” She flashed her credentials. “I have an appointment with Wayne Fordham.”

“Have a seat. He’ll be right with you.”

Being so official was second nature to Elana after working for the feds for over a year, something she’d never imagined she would do. After traveling the country in her RV, making a living from her book and related sales over the Internet, she welcomed the regularity. She had fallen for the wild, dramatic sweeping skylines of New Mexico, but lots of open space meant it was sparsely populated. The national lab was one of the few significant employers in the area. With a clearance backlog, there was a demand for investigators, and with her communications background, it made sense.

In many ways, the job stood for everything Elana Ryan did not. She told herself that it wasn’t all about weapons. There was important science happening here, great minds working for the future of humanity. After living an unconventional lifestyle, being in the secret city where the atomic bomb had been invented, working for the government at thirty-five was a turn of events she couldn’t have predicted. It’s just another adventure, she told herself.

Wayne Fordham, white-haired with a dry-cleaned dress shirt tucked into plain-front slacks, greeted Elana and ushered her into one of the larger offices she’d been to at the lab that had a view, as was expected for a division leader. Wayne moved a few piles of papers from a round table and gestured for her to sit.

As she’d done for hundreds of such interviews, Elana presented her credentials, checked his ID and opened her portfolio to take notes. She made small talk before running through a standard introduction, such as how being untruthful about any issue more often had a greater negative influence on the outcome of their case than any underlying issue, that Title 18 US code 1001 stated that hiding a material fact was a felony and could lead to fines, imprisonment and so on, ending with him swearing under penalty of perjury under the laws of the United States to tell the truth to the best of his knowledge and belief.

He appeared to be relaxed, this being his fifth clearance re-investigation. He would have done these interviews every five years, so it was obviously familiar.

“Your full name is Wayne Fordham—no middle name—and you have not used any other names?” She looked up from the papers to check his expression through her glasses.

“That’s correct.”

She went through his security questionnaire and took notes of changes or items that needed clarification, glancing up at him periodically.

To lighten the serious tone, she asked about his being from New Jersey and commented on his lack of a ‘Joyzee’ accent. He chuckled but didn’t give an explanation, so she offered, “I’m originally from the only New England state that has no accent but is surrounded by states with strong accents.” She often made people guess which state it was, but she wasn’t in the mood at the moment, so she just told him she was from Connecticut.

Fordham had a pleasant demeanor and conversed with an ease not typical among the socially challenged scientific community, which was likely why he was in management, but he was also a respected scientist, as the awards on the wall and the work history on his form suggested.

There were no red flags on Fordham’s case, so Elana expected to be done before the usual hour. She wrote down the references he gave her to interview and was about to wrap up the counterintelligence questions when there was a knock on the door.

“Excuse me,” Wayne said politely as he got up and opened it.

It was his receptionist. “I’m sorry to interrupt. Dr. Graeme is insisting he speak with you right now. It’s urgent. He’s on the line.”

“Patch him through.” A hint of irritation marked his brow as he shut the door, raised his index finger to Elana and picked up the phone on his desk. “What’s so important, Cam? I’m in a meeting.” He turned to look out at the Jemez Mountains. “Yes.” He turned back to look at Elana. “That’s right. How did you know that?”

Elana organized her papers. In her peripheral vision, she caught Wayne squinting at her as he fiddled with items on his desk. “He says what?” He turned his back to Elana again and exhaled. “Really? Okay. Okay… I’ll get back to you.” He hung up the phone, his forehead furrowed.

He sat across from Elana. “Sorry about that. Where were we? Connecticut, the Northeast. Winters are bitter there, eh?” He feigned nonchalance.

“Yeah. I like the dry climate here.”

“What about Christmas? The traditions—you know, with the farolitos and all—it’s different.”

His question seemed contrived, but she played along. “I don’t put much stock in the holiday anymore.”

“No? Why not?”

His whole attitude had shifted. He was pushing for something and it made her uneasy. She was supposed to be pushing him, not the other way around. Oddly compelled, she revealed, “I was born on Christmas Eve, so it has had a lot of loaded meaning for me, but I left that behind long ago.” Why did I share that personal information?

“So your birthday is Christmas Eve,” he said with a conclusive satisfaction that was a bit creepy and differed from his earlier apathy.

Wayne’s desk phone rang, and he sprang to answer it. “Yes. Okay. Give me about ten minutes.” He hung up and sat back down at the table.

“That was my colleague. He can do my reference interview. You can do it here when we’re finished.”

When they’d concluded the interview, Wayne invited Dr. Cameron Graeme in, introduced him to Elana and left them alone. So this is the Dr. Graeme with the urgent matter. He sat down at the table with Elana. He was at least a decade younger than Wayne, closer to her age. His full head of hair was still more pepper than salt and he was more casually dressed in blue jeans and a pale green button-down shirt that wasn’t perfectly pressed. He’s cute, in a dorky-scientist kind of way, she thought as he peered at her from behind round, metal-framed glasses. She was flustered. Is it his stare or that odd phone call?

She showed him her credentials and asked if he was aware of the Privacy Act of 1974, as was required of her job. He said “Yes,” and she indicated that on her pad. He confirmed the spelling of his name and she asked his title.

“Senior Scientist.”

She scribbled ‘Sr. Sci.’, and began asking the forty questions that she had almost entirely memorized, starting with, “What has been the frequency and nature of your contact with Wayne?”

“We met five years ago working on a project at the Remote Sensing Lab, and about three months ago I came to work with him in this division. We’ve had daily work contact.”

As she jotted down his answer, she noticed him scanning her intently, like he was taking a grid sample of every inch. Another weird scientist thing? “Is Wayne married?” Cameron folded his hands together. No wedding ring, she observed.

“Yes, to Marge. They have three grown kids, but I can’t recall their names.” He rattled off answers to her list of questions, clearly having done these interviews before. Every position, from janitors on up, needed a clearance to work there. She also noticed he had a remnant accent—not Irish, maybe Scottish.

The fifteen-minute interview felt like an eternity. Something hung in the air between them that slowed time. She tried to ignore it and was relieved when she got to the final questions. “Is there any reason to question Wayne’s loyalty to the United States?”

“No.” He caressed his chin with his entwined fingers.

“Is there anything in his background that would make him susceptible to coercion or blackmail?”

“Not that I know of,” he answered abruptly. Did he even give a thought to the answers? Is he thinking of something entirely different? Finally, the last question. “Do you recommend Wayne continue to have a position impacting national security and hold a clearance?”

“Absolutely.” He leaned back in his chair, his clasped hands now in his lap.

She slipped her notes into her portfolio. “Well, that’s all we need. Thank you for your time.” She was about to get up, but he didn’t move, so she paused.

His gaze penetrated her. “Do you like your job?”

“Sure. I meet interesting people and work from home. It could pay better, but I’ve got no complaints overall.” She zipped her portfolio to hint again that she was ready to go.

He leaned forward. “What other kind of work background do you have?

It’s my job to give the third degree. What’s up? She stood. He did the same but didn’t move toward the door. He was a couple of inches taller than her five foot nine, even with her two-inch heels on. He raised his eyebrows in anticipation of an answer.


“Perfect. We need someone like you in our division. Can you come tomorrow for an interview?” She was surprised at this curt and assumptive invite. She had applied for jobs at the lab, which she’d thought had to be done via proper channels, and had never gotten called for an interview.

“What’s the job?”

“Communications Specialist.” Did he just come up with that in the moment? Employment directly with the lab paid better than her Department of Defense position, so she was intrigued. Weapons division—not her first choice, but somehow she couldn’t refuse. “Okay, why not?”

“Tell Denise at the front desk to give you an appointment in the morning. Email me your resume tonight.” He handed her his business card.

“Sure.” He couldn’t wait until tomorrow for that?

Buy Links

Choose Your Store
First For Romance

About the Author

Eilis Muir

Eilis (Irish Gaelic, pronounced Eye-Lish) has always gone her own way, which has led to an unconventional life full of adventure. She spent many years videotaping whales in Cape Cod, MA and off season she traveled. She has hiked glaciers in Patagonia, kayaked fjords in Norway, and sailed from Key West to Cuba. Eilis lived in the US Virgin Islands for eight years and sailed throughout the Caribbean and in the Mediterranean.

She later spent three years driving across the US in an RV on a book tour and landed in the mountains of New Mexico where she built a natural off grid cabin. After living there for a few years, she ventured across the Sangre de Christo mountain range to Los Alamos where she published a community magazine and worked as a clearance investigator. She fell in love with a scientist there and now lives with him and two lovable cats.

Eilis has always believed in stretching limits. Her greatest joy is found in allowing her imagination to run wild. Since she was a child, Eilis has dreamed up elaborate plots and characters in situations that push boundaries. Much of her writing is inspired by her own experiences, deep thoughts, and her intuitions about human potential and the passions that drive us.

Find out more at her website.


Enter to win a fabulous gift package and get a FREE romance book from the author!

Eilis Muir Synapse Nine Giveaway