Book Blitz & Excerpt: Dear Daddy, Please Hold Us

DEAR DADDY please hold us

Book Title: Dear Daddy, Please Hold Us

Author: Colette Davison

Publisher: Independently Published

Cover Artist: Cate Ashwood

Release Date: December 8, 2020

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romance

Trope/s: MMM, Daddy kink, age gap, age play

Heat Rating: 4 flames   

Length: 70 000 words

It is a standalone story.

It’s part of the Naughty or Nice multi-author series. 

Find the other books here

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Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Universal link  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

 

All Zeke wants for Christmas is a Daddy for two. Can his wish come true?

Blurb

Dear Santa,
If I could make one wish this Christmas, it would be for a Daddy with a big enough heart for two. We both want a Daddy who can be loving, but also firm when he needs to be, who enjoys spanking his boys and making their asses red, and with big enough arms to hold us both.

We need a Daddy who can help us let go and relax.

Lastly, but probably most importantly, we need a Daddy who can meet both our needs. I don’t have many boundaries as long as I can trust my Daddy, and I’m open to trying new things. Rett…well, he’s a little more reserved but he has a huge heart, and he’s the sweetest boy you’ll ever meet.

Here’s the thing, Santa: I have a little over a week to convince Rett to stay. I don’t know if you can magic up a Daddy who can love us both, but I’m making this wish anyway.

With hope,
Zeke

Dear Daddy, Please Hold us is an MMM Christmas romance, with a pair of army brats, an Englishman in New York who knows how to handle them, a purple triceratops teddy, and lots of sweet cuddles.

This book is part of the Naughty or Nice multi-author series. Each book can be read as a standalone, but there are so many boys hoping that holiday magic will bring them their perfect Daddy, why not grab them all?

Excerpt

As they helped me clean up after dinner, I tried to work out what kind of scene would make them both feel cared for and wanted in equal measure.

Then came a moment when we were all in closer quarters than we had been the whole evening. There wasn’t a lot of space between the kitchen counters and the breakfast bar, so while Rett was loading the dishwasher, I was drying the pots that couldn’t go in, and Zeke was putting the wine glasses away, both young men were within touching distance.

I put down the pot I was drying and the tea towel, and as soon as Zeke had closed the cupboard door, I hooked my finger through his belt loop, tugged him close, and mashed my lips to his in a commanding kiss. He let out a throaty chuckle. When he pressed his body against mine, I felt the makings of an erection through his jeans.

Rett was crouched down by the open dishwasher, eyes wide as he watched us. Had he ever seen his best friend kiss another man before? As I wrapped one arm around Zeke’s back, I wriggled my fingers at Rett, inviting him to join us. For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t, but then he stood, closed the dishwasher, and edged closer, one tentative step at a time. As soon as he was close enough, I put my arm around his waist and pulled him to me. They were standing shoulder to shoulder, their bodies tracing mine. I tore my mouth from Zeke’s and, with his saliva still damp on my lips, kissed Rett.

“Oh, Daddy, that’s hot,” Zeke breathed as he watched the two of us kiss.

Hearing him call me ‘Daddy’ sent blood pulsing to my cock. It was good to know Zeke felt comfortable enough to say it, and it made me long for the moment ‘Daddy’ would cross Rett’s lips too.

Rett put his hand on my chest and gripped my shirt in his fingers. He relaxed a little against me, but there was still far too much tension in his slender body.

“Now kiss each other,” I commanded.

They didn’t hesitate. They kissed each other dirtily for me, sucking each other’s tongues as I held them. Then Zeke’s mouth was on mine again, and a few seconds later, I was kissing Rett once more. Zeke sought out Rett’s neck with his mouth, sucking and kissing in a way I was sure was going to leave a mark. Rett moaned as we both lavished attention on him, and his body became a little more pliant in my arms.

I ran my hands down to their arses and squeezed, tugging them so I could feel every inch of their bodies against mine.

“Let’s move to the bedroom.”

About the Author 
Colette’s personal love story began at university, where she met her future husband. An evening of flirting, in the shadow of Lancaster castle, eventually led to a fairytale wedding. She’s enjoying her own ‘happy ever after’ in the north of England with her husband, two beautiful children and her writing.

 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |   Facebook Page   |  Facebook Group: Colette’s Cosy Corner

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Spotlight & Excerpt: Stay + Giveaway

Banner - Fantasy for Christmas

On tour with Prism Book Tours


Stay
(Cursed Gods #1)
By Jennifer Silverwood
New Adult Romantic Fantasy, Mythology
Paperback & ebook, 198 Pages
May 29, 2020 by SilverWoodSketches

Rona believes love is nothing more than a myth, a tale for little girls. Until the immortal ruler of the seas appears from thin air and she is swept into a dark and dangerous affair. What was formerly myth soon becomes part of the everyday. And Rona believes when Seid tells her they will be together forever. But forever is a long time and after she betrays him, what was supposed to be an eternity in paradise becomes an eternity in hell. Now she is cursed, unable to feel emotions except through the couples she is led to test and save.

Two thousand years is an awfully long time to live alone. And the business of love saving isn’t what it used to be. By the twenty-first century, Rona’s ready to give up. Until the night she is seen by a human. Deep in the underbelly of the city that never sleeps, she recognizes him instantly. He may dress differently and have gained a few new scars, but she would recognize the face of her former lover in any lifetime. Trouble is, he seems to have no memory of her and he and his ex-girlfriend are the ones whose true love she’s meant to save. But when he starts to fall for her, she is forced to learn what it means to be human all over again.

***New 2020 Edition has been revised and edited***

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Excerpt

The city was beautiful and wicked, but it was a false beauty compared to the things I had seen. When he cursed me I could feel everything, from contentment to sorrow, but never love. Seid had given me the ability to see it in others and destroy it when it was false or save it if true. Yet the only thing that managed to stir me these days was the memory of my death. Only my memories kept me going. Vengefully I often wished he still knew my every thought and suffered the recall of our every moment together.

Thinking of Seid made my cloak slip enough to expose an outline of my features. I never would have noticed my mistake if the boy coming my way hadn’t pointed and began to shout a stream of curses to his friends. Other people were turning and beginning to take notice, the old couple clutching onto each other to ward away the winter chill, the little girl picking their pocket for loose change, Black Market vendors dealing on the side.

Breathing in deeply, an ancient but unnecessary habit now, I drew the fabric tighter and focused on my mission. For several minutes I ran faster than their eyes could follow, beating myself on the inside for my carelessness.

“You must never be seen by anyone,” his words echoed in my memories, settled deep in my bones and made me shiver. I couldn’t think about Seid now, not when I needed to focus.

My new mission was close. When I turned the colors in my eyes just right I could see his aura through the chaos of buildings and people. And the closer I drifted the faster I was, until I was no longer walking but floating, flying through every obstacle in my path.

Looking up at the buildings I noticed the flashing lights had been mercifully left behind. Once his building was in sight my pulse began to sputter, to race and soar. I could feel the budding newness of his affection for her in my chest and savored it. This is the closest I came to feeling human emotions these days.

My vision cleared once I stood outside the window before them. All sound ceased to exist, save their words and breaths. The café was dimly lit, a very old nightclub from the looks of it. Wordless music crooned up from below, horns and the strokes of piano keys. Feet shuffled in rhythm to the soft beat of a drum.

That was when I heard their voices for the first time.

“You look so perfect tonight Lissa…” he practically growled in her ear.

She giggled and answered in a sultry tone, “Good enough to eat?”

Chuckling low he kissed her on the lips, “That’s right, baby.”

I frowned as the brick wall kept blocking my vision and realized too late I wasn’t peering through a window. I would have to go inside to better see. Walking through walls used to scare me senseless until I grew accustomed. Now I brushed the feeling aside as I squeezed past the gritty matter. The front room was built to disguise the underground world beneath it. Worn down like the rest of this city, no one would ever believe the cultural haven it sheltered.

For a brief moment, I recalled brilliant jewels and brassy music, short dresses lined with tassels of an era gone by and women’s laughter over the chink of forbidden liquid.

The present incarnation pulled me back to the present. I had passed through the secret door, walked down a short flight of stairs and now watched from inside the smoky club. Here women still dressed to please and men of a higher class sought their nightly trophies. On stage, the jazz band played and at the center of the dance floor, my newest assignment drank their fill of each other.

When the tempo began to drag into a slower tune, she tilted her head back to expose her neck. Her long brown locks trailed to her red-clad hips. He tightened his hold on her waist as he kissed her neck. And I could feel the thrill in her heart temporarily mask a quiet sorrow.

Yet there was nothing from the man.

I frowned and turned my eyes to the rest of the establishment. Where was the budding newness of his affection I so strongly felt outside?

“Excuse me?” A deep, rough voice came from behind me, over my shoulder and I froze.

He cannot see me.

Convinced that he was speaking to another patron I nearly walked on. Perhaps I was not close enough to them to feel the man’s love for this girl?

“Come back to my place…” I clearly heard the man whisper into the woman’s ear. Her emerald eyes sparkled as she batted her lashes and pulled back her full lips in a saucy grin.

I shook my head. Sex was never the key to a man’s unwavering devotion. Yet she was considering it, hoping it would give him reason enough to keep her around longer, this time. I paused and shut my eyes as a flurry of images and sensations flashed past my closed lids. It took some time, depending on the difficulty of my mission, to grow accustomed to their emotions. I paused and shut my eyes as a flurry of images and sensations flashed past my closed lids. It took some time, depending on the difficulty of my mission, to grow accustomed to their emotions. Rather than simple feeling, human emotions often carried scattered memories and impressions. I pushed the usual discomfort aside.

I took another step and gasped when a hard hand clasped my shoulder and spun me firmly round.

Impossible…

No one touched me, had not in two thousand years.

Yet his hand remained planted on my shoulder in its firm grip and I followed the shape of his muscled arm to the chest attached to it. His black shirt was a tight fit and in the dim blue and red lights seemed to flash several colors. He bent down so his eyes met my line of sight.

My mouth dropped the moment I breathed in his scent.

He smelled like the skies before it rained and the sea air as it wafts into the harbor…

My vision blackened and suddenly broke through in brilliant flashes of light around his face. I could feel the colors growing, shifting and glowing in my eyes, beneath my skin. I clenched my fists as I fought for control, convinced I had lost it for the first time. Had I wanted him so badly in my memories that they came to life?

Reaching up to clutch my waist he kept me from falling down the short flight of stairs. A frown creased his brow as he said, “Whoa there, take it easy. I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just my job to check everyone before they come in. You got any I.D?”

I shook my head slowly and watched as those eyes, his eyes, shifted from the dance floor and back to me a few times. Holding up a couple of fingers he nodded to someone over my shoulder and returned his attention to me. Something flickered in those dark blue orbs akin to recognition. Clenching his firm jaw he sighed and then nodded to himself.

“Look miss,” he began, “I’m really sorry but you can’t stay here without any I.D. Any chance you can find your way back up?”

I was trembling. Just hearing his voice again set every forgotten nerve in my body on edge. My flesh was on fire beneath my cloak where his fingers touched. Still, I had forgotten my voice for too long and could not remember how to speak.

My cloak.

How could he see me when I had refastened my cloak once again? It was such a thin, flimsy thing, like a second skin I wore it so often I forgot. But no human had ever seen me beneath it before.

It has to be him.

His frown deepened, voice dropping to a softer unused tone. “You’re shaking all over… You okay?”

No one else has the power to see.

My mouth opened but no sound came out. I was forbidden to speak to the humans. And even though he had Seid’s face, the curse commanded my attention. Oddly enough, I could feel what he felt.

He feels nothing toward me.

He did not recognize me.

His eyes flickered up as two pairs of feet approached us from behind. Immediately his arm curled me closer to his chest and his eyes darkened.

Lissa and her date were speaking in hushed tones, but I heard them clear as the true light.

“—so hard you’ll see stars,” the man was saying.

Lissa giggled and playfully swatted him with her clutch. “Derek!”

They paused on our level at the head of the stair. Another girl brought their jackets to them. As Derek helped Lissa into her fur jacket her gaze locked on to the man holding me.

That was when the truth settled over me with horrifying clarity. The aura I had followed across a country, across a city, was burning brightly between them. Invisible to them, the golden strands were weak now, but the link between them unmistakable. It linked this man, the man who wore his face, to her, Lissa.

The man holding me tensed and clutched me tighter to him again, his words stuck on the roof of his mouth.

Instead the other girl who handed out and hung cloaks offered, “Good job tonight. See you tomorrow Lissa,” as Derek and Lissa walked through the secret door.

And to my horror I watched the threads stretch and fade that linked them to me.

Excerpted from Stay by Jennifer Silverwood. Copyright © Jennifer Silverwood. Published by SilverWoodSketches.

About the Author

Jennifer Silverwood has been involved in the publishing world since 2012 and is passionate about supporting the writing community however she can. After studying traditional art at University, she loves helping Qamber Designs & Media bring authors’ books to life. Jennifer is the author of ten novels and founder of We Write Fantasy, a blog and support group for fellow genre authors. She is the author of the Wylder Tales Series, the Borderlands Saga, and the romance titles Stay and She Walks in Moonlight.

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Tour Schedule
(Posts go live on the day they’re scheduled.)

November 29th: Launch
November 30th: R.J. AndersonSwift
December 1st: Ralene BurkeArmor of Aletheia
December 2nd: Michelle Diener – Breakaway
December 3rd: Sandra Fernandez Rhoads – Mortal Sight
December 4th: J.M. Hackman – Burn
December 5th: Sharon Hinck – Forsaken Island
December 6th: Ronie Kendig – Dawn of Vengeance
December 7th: Carla LaureanoOath of the Brotherhood
December 8th: Belle MaloryDeviant Descendants
December 9th: Sara SchallerThe Genesis of Seven
December 10th: Jennifer SilverwoodStay
December 11th: Anne Wheeler – Treason’s Crown
December 12th: Melissa Wright – Between Ink and Shadows
December 13th: Morgan WylieSilent Orchids
December 14th: Kristen Young – Apprentice
December 15th: Grand Finale

Tour Giveaway

One winner will receive a $75 (USD) Amazon eGift Card

Open internationally
Ends December 19, 2020

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Release Blitz & Excerpt: Bring to Light + Giveaway

Bring to light BANNER

 

Book Title: Bring to Light

(London Lies #3)

Author/Publisher: C F White

Cover Artist: Etheral Designs 

Release Date: December 10, 2020

Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romance, Romantic Suspense 

Trope/s: Hurt/Comfort 

Themes: Coming out

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length: 79 000 words/358 pages

It is book 3 and the final part in the London Lies series.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

 

It’s a race against time, with a deadline not only on their story or their growing relationship but on their entire lives.

 

Blurb

Jackson Young and Fletcher Doherty are back in London and on a mission—to bring to light the murky underbelly of the Charles Payne media empire and, in doing so, get justice for the murder of Tallulah Payne.

It’s not a simple task though. They need proof. They need people to speak up. And they need to keep their hands off each other long enough to track down the other manipulated Lotus Flowers, convince them to come forward and find a way to bring it all to the public. Not so easy when they’re up against the most powerful men in London who are determined to separate and silence them by any means possible.

It’s a race against time, with a deadline not only on their story or their growing relationship but on their entire lives.

bring to light INSTAGRAM 2

 

Excerpt 

Jackson Young was a new man.

The sweet, shallow breaths trickling onto his neck were testament to that transformation. He shuffled back, his skin erupting delightful goosepimples that tingled and stirred and itched for him to beg for more. He refused to move. He couldn’t bear to move. Nor to wake up. This was where he wanted to stay. Closed-in. Coddled. Safe. And wrapped up in arms and legs that clung to him like a limpet.

Like a lover.

The birds outside tweeted and morning light bled through the gaps in the blinds. Jackson wondered, for the few moments he now had to lie as content as he were, if he would ever get used to waking immersed in such nirvana. He hoped not. That would be admitting defeat. He would pray to never get used to having one of Fletcher Doherty’s legs flung haphazardly over his hip, one of his arms draped over his chest, and his face nuzzling into his neck and inhaling him as though he was the cool morning air. Because this, right now, was perfection personified. His perfect moment. He never wanted to take it for granted. He’d discovered that there was life after the Jax. And if this was it, he never wanted it to end.

Because he could live like this forever.

However long that might be.

Fletcher jerked. Then, sliding away, he rubbed his eyes, and that miniscule movement declared the self-indulgence was over. Jackson remained where he was, facing away in the bed and curled up, hoping that Fletcher would forget what was lying in wait for them and sink back in beside him.

He’d never been this needy. Not for another man. But Fletcher was everything he’d ever craved wrapped up in everything he’d always desired. He was like the drink. The coke. The lights, camera, action that had fuelled his needs since the early years. Fletcher was his addiction. His lifeblood. His obsession. The air he needed to breathe.

But if Fletcher found out any of that, he’d make Jackson go cold turkey.

So he didn’t say it. And he wouldn’t say it. He muted himself.

No comment.

The covers slipped from his body and he shivered. Fletcher rolled away, lifted, and checked the illuminated numbers on the digital clock. He then fell back to the pillows with a sigh and the scratching of fingertips down coarse facial hair indicated that any moment now, Fletcher would declare their peace and tranquility in the safe haven of a Surrey B&B had come to a bitter end.

As he would no doubt, any second now, say—

“Jackson?”

Jackson didn’t respond. Nor move. He feigned the deepest of sleeps. If Fletcher was going to start the day, then Jackson wanted him to start it the right way. For them both.

Fletcher kicked him under the duvet. “I know you’re awake.”

That wasn’t exactly what Jackson had had in mind. But he smiled, and with him facing away, Fletcher wouldn’t be able to tell.

“Fecking eejit.” Fletcher rolled back, clasped his arms around him and hauled him to his chest. Then, settling those soft, enticing lips of his to Jackson’s ear, he rumbled a deep and guttural, “Get up.”

Jackson twisted, falling into Fletcher’s arms and attacked the moment to kiss him. “I’m up,” he declared against the breath that he craved like he once had alcohol, and thrust his morning erection against Fletcher’s. 

No, he wouldn’t ever get used to waking like this. He’d cherish it. And not take it for granted like he had every other morning of his life thus far. It might have been contrite. A tad inappropriate, perhaps. And not the time to be indulging in each other’s arms. But if they couldn’t do it now, when could they? Would they ever get to the point where they could be entangled in each other without the dark clouds looming over them? Without the threat? Without the fear and worry and everything else that had brought them together in the first place.

Relationships built under stress never lasted.

So like the meals he’d had to consume in a timely manner when incarcerated at HMP Flaymore, he wanted to get what he could, while he could.

“We have to get going,” Fletcher breathed out between heated kisses.

“Then maybe just get me off?” Jackson asked the question with a hopeful lilt and a smidgen of jest by rutting himself forward. He shouldn’t feel guilty about wanting to make up for lost time and living his life to the full now he knew what it was he wanted.

And what he wanted was the naked Irishman snuggled next to him and gripping him as though he was about to fall.

He had already, of course. But he couldn’t say that. Not yet. 

 

About the Author 

Brought up in a relatively small town in Hertfordshire, C F White managed to do what most other residents try to do and fail—leave.

Studying at a West London university, she realised there was a whole city out there waiting to be discovered, so, much like Dick Whittington before her, she never made it back home and still endlessly search for the streets paved with gold, slowly coming to the realisation they’re mostly paved with chewing gum. And the odd bit of graffiti. And those little circles of yellow spray paint where the council point out the pot holes to someone who is supposedly meant to fix them instead of staring at them vacantly whilst holding a polystyrene cup of watered-down coffee.

Eventually she moved West to East along that vast District Line and settled for pie and mash, cockles and winkles and a bit of Knees Up Mother Brown to live in the East End of London; securing a job and creating a life, a home and a family.

After her second son was born with a rare disability, C F White’s life changed and it brought pen back to and paper after having written stories as a child but never had the confidence to show them to the world. Now, having embarked on this writing journey, C F White can’t stop. 

So strap in, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.  

 

Follow C F White 

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