I’m taking the easy way out on this month’s #WhatToReadWednesday post! I’ve had some more books added to the Kindle Unlimited catalogue. They’re still available wide for those of you (like me) who don’t have KU, but if you’re a KU reader, these are the titles you currently can get from me.
If you want blurbs and excerpts, you’ll have to click the Books tab above.
The lovely Ellie Thomas is back on the blog!!! She’s here to talk about her new release, Town Bronze. Welcome, Ellie! 🥰
Thanks, lovely Ofelia, for having me as your guest again! I’m Ellie, I write MM Historical Romance novellas, and I’m here today to chat about my new story Town Bronze which is currently in the 20% new release sale at JMS Book until August 18th.
Town Bronze is the first in a new series. I wrote the story as a one-off for the JMS Books Silver Foxes submission call and then it dawned on me that it could be expanded into a trilogy! This series takes place in Regency London, which may feel familiar to readers of my Twelve Letters series. Town Bronze is set in 1812, two years before the events of Twelve Letters but shares a similar setting. So I had great fun name-dropping some of my Twelve Letters ensemble cast!
The characters in my Twelve Letters stories are established in society before the series starts. But in Town Bronze, I had the idea of taking a young, gauche character and observing how the London Season impacts their entire worldview in a hopefully humorous way.
Jasper Goodhew, my MC in Town Bronze, has left university and has been kicking his heels in his family home in rural Somerset for several months. After receiving an invitation from some university friends, he gets the opportunity to escape to London for the spring together with a generous allowance from his parents. He anticipates endless parties, entertainments and adventures with the ladies.
But Jasper is totally unaware of his inner desires, and rather than a comely female, these are exacerbated by Sir Mortimer Cleverly, a man almost twenty years his senior.
I had great fun writing about Jasper’s awakening and his rabbit-in-the-headlights moment! However, it felt important to contrast Jasper’s clueless confusion with Mortimer’s measured and experienced point of view. This provided balance to a story about an unlikely couple embarking on a tentative romance that might surprise them both by proving to be lasting.
At twenty-one, Jasper Goodhew is delighted to be freed from his parental constraints in rural Somerset and enjoy the delights of Regency London during the Season. As a follower in the fast set that runs around young buck Julian Buchanan, Jasper encounters many pleasures, from the elegance of Mayfair parties to the tawdry entertainments of Covent Garden’s taverns and brothels. However, when he meets silver fox Mortimer Cleverly, he discovers a hidden propensity for spanking.
Sir Mortimer is a seasoned and experienced gentleman who can spot a confused innocent at a hundred paces. Yet he’s unable to resist Jasper’s clueless appeal at least once. He feels a lurking sense of responsibility when Jasper returns for more. Aware of the dangers of such a connection with a confused young man, Mortimer attempts to mentor Jasper, leading them onto the safer ground of friendship.
But will the combination of his increasing attachment and Jasper’s irresistible compulsion foil their best intentions?
The next part of Jasper’s evening passed in patchy coherence. The older gentlemen departed with dignity almost immediately after Jasper’s inadvertent blunder. With his wine glass replenished more than once by a luscious attendant, Jasper almost forgot about the impact of that searing gaze.
He was vaguely aware of some of his companions departing with young ladies. Others were content to remain, drink deep, and dandle a damsel on their laps. Minutes or hours progressed in a pleasant haze until Jasper reached the point where he had drunk himself sober.
Relatively clear-headed and suddenly thirsty, Jasper rose on remarkably steady legs to fetch a glass of water from the drinks tray on the capacious sideboard.
This gave him a clear view of the entrance hallway. The vestibule was empty, apart from the three gentlemen earlier expelled from the drawing room by an excess of wit.
The gentleman with the remarkable hair was shaking the hands of his companions with a few congenial words. In that instant of seeming sobriety, it was terribly important for Jasper to make amends. He couldn’t have fathomed if this was due to his basic good manners and general inoffensiveness when not as drunk as a wheelbarrow. Or perhaps he was prompted by the infinite unimaginable possibilities in those haunting eyes.
He entered the hall as the gentleman escorted his companions towards the exit. Jasper stood uncertainly in front of the central staircase, awaiting his opportunity. Once his companions had departed, the remaining gentleman approached a further another doorway off the hall.
“Excuse me,” Jasper said, belatedly adding, “Sir.”
The gentleman turned, raising an inquisitorial dark brow that made him no less forbidding.
During Jasper’s formal education, he occasionally got into trouble. To be fair, these incidents occurred either from absent-mindedness or when he tagged along in the wake of more exuberant and imaginative students. Any resulting discipline, a removal of privileges or corporal punishment, was a matter of course and not taken personally. His sporadic visits to the principal’s study were desultory and instantly forgotten by the disciplinarian and the culprit.
This charged confrontation was entirely different. Jasper was unnerved by the swooping feeling in his belly as he faced his unknown foe. The older man drew closer but remained silent, his face expressionless, that implacable glare holding a sense of threat and thrill.
“I think I was somewhat discourteous earlier, and I wanted to say I was sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. We were all getting rather carried away and had too much to drink. I know it was a bit much, and we were rather close to the mark concerning you and your friends. But I suppose you were young once too, eh?”
Jasper tried and failed to raise a placating smile. The gentleman didn’t move a muscle and stared at Jasper as though regarding a failed scientific experiment.
“I mean to say, I was a bit bosky, and I wasn’t thinking straight. Anyone with decent eyesight could tell that’s your natural hair. You’re nowhere near old enough to be wearing a wig. You’d have to be in your dotage. And you’re not. Naturally. No one would think you’re wearing a cauliflower of the wig variety, and it doesn’t remotely resemble an actual cauliflower. I don’t know why I said that. You have very nice hair.”
Jasper’s ramble stuttered to a stop. Without softening his expression, the gentleman said, “You were insolent.”
Jasper blinked. He suddenly grasped his opponent was slightly the taller and his lean build held latent strength. He felt paralysed, like a snake to its charmer, in thrall to the depths of that gaze.
“I think you deserve to be punished.”
Jasper gulped.
The gentleman’s voice was persuasive. “You’ve earned a good thrashing.”
In a husky tone Jasper didn’t recognise as his own, he said, “I’ll let you be the judge of that. I’ll do anything you require.”
That eyebrow rose again. A glint of humour lit those night-dark eyes.
“Anything?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.”
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CDPG4VPY/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=town+bronze+by+ellie+thomas&sr=8-1
Universal Book Link:
https://books2read.com/u/baq0P2
Publisher:
https://www.jms-books.com/ellie-thomas-c-224_420/town-bronze-p-4795.html
Add to Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/195672906-town-bronze
Add to Bookbub:
https://www.bookbub.com/books/town-bronze-by-ellie-thomas
Ellie Thomas lives by the sea. She comes from a teaching background and goes for long seaside walks where she daydreams about history. She is a voracious reader especially about anything historical. She mainly writes historical gay romance. Ellie also writes historical erotic romance as L. E. Thomas.
Website: https://elliethomasromance.wordpress.com/
Facebook reader group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/8308047409266947
Twitter: @e_thomas_author
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19835510.Ellie_Thomas
It’s release day!!! 🤩 Hearts and Claws is out today! It’s a box set containing three gay paranormal romance stories – Black Bird, Jaeger’s Lost and Found, and Nine Stones.
They are a bit different from each other. Black Bird is a story about a healer and a werewolf. Jaeger’s Lost and Found is about a vampire and a psychic. And Nine Stones is about a human and a cat shifter.
They’re all a few years old, and things change. When I wrote Black Bird, I had a healthy mum. Arlo, the healer in that story, did not. When I wrote the scene below, I hadn’t sat next to a person slipping away. The beige linoleum floor and the too-thin yellow blanket… I’ve been to the hospital enough times to know, but I’d never sat next to my mother with tubes going in here and there while she was too weak to stay awake.
Had I written the scene differently today? Maybe. Do I regret writing it? Nope. But I’m glad I didn’t know what was to come when I wrote it. Life. You never know what’ll happen, how long you’re here, or how quickly things may change.
I didn’t mean to grow all sombre, but this scene has popped up in my mind so many times, I thought I’d share it.
On a happier note, Nine Stones is a funny story 😆 No cat dies even though poor Felix keeps burying it LOL So if you don’t want to think about the fragility of life, sickness and sorrow, then this story is better suited.
Jaeger’s Lost and Found is dear to me because I feel like Archie is a kindred soul. We both have some anxiety issues LOL And it takes place in a world where it’s raining nonstop. Some days, that fit the mood perfectly.
Absence does not make the heart grow fonder; it kills it.
What would you do if the person you can’t live without kept putting distance between you? In this box set, you’ll find three paranormal MM romance stories about men who have a special connection to someone they need to be physically close to. But something or someone forces them apart.
Contains the stories:
Black Bird: For seven years, Arlo Barman has been on the move. All he wants is a place to call home. But as a caladrius healer, he has to separate himself from those he’s healed, and has to find a place to stay in a new town. Nash Silver is a werewolf, and from the moment he lays eyes on Arlo, he needs to be close. When Nash is injured, Arlo heals him and has to leave. But can Nash survive without his mate?
Jaeger’s Lost and Found: Gael Murray has lost his connections. A vampire can’t survive without the energy exchange he has with his coven members via mental links. To locate them before it’s too late, he hires a finder. Jaeger’s Lost and Found is the only finder shop on the west coast, but Archibald Jaeger seems to be defective. A terrible finder is better than no finder, though. Together, they set out to save Gael’s life.
Nine Stones: The only thing worse than having a hot neighbor you’re too intimidated to talk to is hitting his cat with your car. Felix Lane was perfectly content to spend the rest of his days in his quiet little corner of the suburbs, but when he hits his neighbor’s cat with his car, he has no choice but to face the music and Kirk. But Kirk, with his unusual eyes and bad boy looks, is nowhere to be found.
Gay Paranormal Romance: 110,817 words
JMS Books :: Amazon :: books2read.com/HeartsAndClaws
Prologue
Arlo Barman rubbed his nose. The antiseptic smell always made him nauseated, as did the beige linoleum floor, the white sheets, and the too-thin yellow blanket. It wasn’t enough to keep her warm. He reached out and took her hand, careful of the tubes going in both here and there, and forced a smile to his lips.
“Hi, Mama.” The whisper died in the room, but the wrinkle between her eyebrows smoothed out, so he assumed she’d heard him. She was hardly ever awake anymore. Her raven hair was growing out after the treatments, but there wouldn’t be enough time for it to grow long like it once had been.
She was nothing but skin and bones, her hands birdlike talons, and when he met her gaze, her once sparkling brown eyes were dulled by morphine and whatever else they were shooting into her.
He bowed his neck and rubbed his forehead with his free hand. A tress of white hair fell into his eyes, but he did nothing to remove it. A sob threatened to climb his throat as he pictured her as she’d been when they’d spun, hand in hand, on the lawn in the summer sun.
It was a long time ago, a time when it had only been the two of them, when she’d laughed and been full of life. She’d worn a red blouse and one of those gypsy skirts. He couldn’t remember what he’d worn, most likely trousers and a long-sleeved T-shirt since he didn’t do well in the sun.
“What are you thinking about, sweetie?” Her voice was sandpaper on glass, and it ended in a cough.
Arlo helped her take a sip of water.
“About how we used to dance on the lawn when we lived in the house.” He smiled, and something in his chest shifted and rearranged itself. A gaping hole formed where his lungs used to be, and his vision grew black at the edges.
“Don’t.”
Her voice halted the process. He was still hollow inside, but his vision went back to normal, leaving him dizzy. “Don’t think about us dancing?”
Her colorless lips momentarily stretched into a smile. “There are so many things I should’ve told you.”
The void spread again, pushing him out of the way to make room for something else. His lungs screamed for air, but he fought not to show it.
“So tell me. You’re still here.” The vacuum crawled into his heart, into his mind.
Her eyes drooped, and she gave him a small shake of her head. “This is as it’s supposed to be.” Arlo waited for her to continue, she would as soon as she’d taken a couple of breaths. “I feared…always feared you’d be like him…”
Like him? “Him? Do you mean my dad?” Arlo had never met him, didn’t know anything about him.
She smiled again and nodded. “I loved him, loved him so much, but he had to go.”
“Had to go? Go where?” Arlo wanted to know, but he couldn’t think straight. The emptiness was searching, reaching for something to fill it with.
“He…he saved me.” She shut her eyes and panted. “He said, once you start, there is no stopping it. You’ll keep on doing it for the rest of your life.” Her pale, chapped lips thinned. “Don’t start, Arlo.”
“Start what, Mama?” He squeezed her hand harder than he normally would, but he couldn’t stop himself. The gap inside extended, strived, sought.
“Start saving people. You probably are like him, but don’t get trapped in that life.” The pause lasted so long Arlo would’ve assumed she’d fallen asleep if it hadn’t been for the way she clutched his hand. “You need to let me go, sweetie. And everyone you meet in the future…” She took a shuddering breath, her brows drawing together before she continued. “You need to let them go too. Promise to shut it out.”
His grip tightened before he dropped her hand, afraid he was hurting her. “Fuck, sorry.”
“Language.” The stern look cost her, but not even on her death bed would she allow foul language. Arlo would’ve smiled, but he was too busy keeping his eyes free of tears.
“This is how it’s supposed to be.” She scrunched her face, and he pressed the button to give her more painkillers. “Rob has promised to make sure…” Arlo knew what she would say, but he didn’t need Rob to look after him. He’d turned eighteen four months ago, and Rob only pretended to like him because she was sick. If, when—it was when, she died, Arlo would be on his own. She tried to sit, tried not to fall asleep, but he’d watched her fight it enough times to know she didn’t stand a chance. “…you have…a good…life.”
The hole in him swelled, the emptiness reaching out into the room. Arlo gritted his teeth around the scream wanting to escape. What was happening?
The room grew darker, his head throbbed, ready to explode. A sound escaped him, and Mama opened her eyes. “No.” She reached for him, but he stumbled back. He had to stand.
Something was filling him, black tar pushing itself inside. A thick heavy something pushing his essence out of the way. It was stealing his mind, his body, his ability to breathe. Pain so sharp he would’ve screamed if he’d had any air in his lungs.
“No, baby, no. Please, give it back.”
She reached for him. Arlo blinked, he couldn’t inhale, but it didn’t scare him, because Mama was sitting up. She had sat up on her own. Her gaze was clear, and color was slowly creeping back into her skin.
“No.” A tear slid down her cheek. “Arlo, give it back. It was mine to bear. It was my destiny.” Her voice broke as she continued. “Don’t leave me.”
Arlo shook his head. He didn’t know what was going on, but he had to leave. The sickness occupying his body needed to go somewhere. He gagged but swallowed it down.
“I have to leave.” His voice was off, thick and slow.
Mama cried, a faint wail as panic overtook her eyes. “No, stay. I love you. Please stay. Don’t leave me.”
Tears trickled down his cheeks too, he couldn’t explain it, didn’t know what was happening. The only thing he knew was he had to leave—leave and never come back.
“I love you, Mama.” He blew her a kiss and stumbled toward the door. It wasn’t until he turned around, he realized Rob was standing there watching them with his mouth agape. Arlo grimaced and pushed past him.
He had to go.
Chapter 1
Arlo looked around the red farmhouse cottage. It wasn’t big, but crossing the small rooms was enough to make him want to cry—he wouldn’t, of course. No use in crying over things that hadn’t happened yet, but it saddened him to know he’d have to leave it soon.
The floorboards creaked under his feet as he walked through the kitchen and into the living room. The low ceiling had him dipping his head when going through doorways, being five-foot-six it wasn’t something he was used to. He probably could walk through without hitting his head on the door frame, but someone taller wouldn’t be able to. The owner had made an apologetic comment about it when Arlo came to look at the house, but it didn’t bother him.
Since he’d left Mama in the hospital, he’d lived in a lot of seedy places, and he’d met a lot of people forcing him to move on from those seedy places.
This house reminded him of where they’d lived when he’d been a little boy—it was happiness and freedom on a small piece of land with a tiny house. The town was a ten-minute drive away and while not as picturesque as the red wooden cottage, it still had some small-town charm going on. He’d learned not to get too attached, though.
Mama. He wished he could call her, wished he could go back home, but he couldn’t. Why he couldn’t, he didn’t know, but something inside of him made it impossible. It was the same thing forcing him to move on as soon as he’d taken someone’s darkness into himself.
He hated it.
He couldn’t control it.
Contemporary Gay Fiction
Ofelia Grand 