About Me

My photo
United Kingdom
A pick 'n' mix genre author. "I'm not greedy. I just like variety."

Friday, 23 February 2018

RBTL Tours: Ok Danny Boy VOL 1 by Felicia Johnson

Title: Ok Danny Boy: Chaos Vol. 1
Author: Felicia Johnson
Series: Ok Danny Boy Trilogy (Book 1) 
Genre:  Young Adult to New Adult...Coming of Age
Publisher: S.P.E. Media, Productions and Publishing
Release June 18, 2017
Edition/Formats Available In: eBook & Print


The spin-off of “HER” is called “OK Danny Boy". This three part book series follows the story of an artistic and mysterious young man who Kristen meets during her stay in Bent Creek Hospital. Daniel proved to be a supportive peer, whom Kristen saw as a positive influence throughout her recovery. However, Daniel had not always been a role model. Daniel is diagnosed with Bi-Polar Disorder, OCD and Juvenile Diabetes. His story follows his journey throughout his healing and learning to cope with life’s transitions, coming of age, living with mental illness as well as a physical illness and the suicide of a close friend. Fans of “HER” will get to see what it was like on the other side of the Adolescent Ward.

Part one: "CHAOS" follows Daniel's life before he goes into Bent Creek Hospital during his mental breakdown.

Part two: "MONSTER" follows Daniel's story while he is in Bent Creek Hospital through his treatment.

Part three: "LOVE" follows Daniel after his treatment in Bent Creek Hospital into his recovery process.

*** This is part of a trilogy. These are the first two books in the OK Danny Boy series. The third book is to be released this summer. However, the OK Danny Boy trilogy is a spin-off of my first novel called “HER”. Daniel is a character from “HER” and OK Danny Boy is his story. It is recommended to read “HER” before the Danny Boy trilogy but it is not necessary. It is important to read Ok Danny Boy volume 1 before you read volume 2. ***

Book Links

~ * ~


I didn't realize how long it took to get home from the doctor's office when I took the train and the bus. A trip that should only take about 15 minutes driving in the car with my mom, took about 2 hours on public transit.
Whenever I rode public transit, I survived those rides by pretending like I was at an art exhibit. I was merely an observing student, there to study.
People were like artistic creations. Our transportation was the gallery and the energy that we possessed and released were our canvases. We received what was put out into the world. There were many different mediums of art in the gallery. Some people looked like you could assume where they were coming from or where they were going. That would determine the price and value of each art piece.
Take for example, the people who seemed to stand on the “right wing” of the train. There was a dapper man who stood close by the train doors. He never sat down because he didn’t want to wrinkle his dark gray, dry cleaned and neatly pressed suit. He stood by the exit door and stared into the window, rather than out of the window because he was looking at his own reflection.
Occasionally, he picked a booger from his nose and flung it away as if it was a foreign object. Then he ran his fingers through his slicked back hard gelled hair and shifted his tie. Satisfied with himself, he smiled and turned away from his reflection in the train window. He was definitely on his way to the office to make another dollar.
“You've got to put in the time to make an extra dime,” Tom once said to me when he tried to encourage me to get an after school job.
At the next stop on the train, entered the thirty-something-year-old looking woman. She was dressed in her posh, pink and blue yoga pants and a light gray pull over sweater. She pushed her baby stroller onto the train with a diaper bag on one shoulder and a yoga mat in its own bag, strapped over her other shoulder.
Surely, she would have sat down if there was enough room or if a kind gentleman would have given up his seat for her. Rather, it seemed that she preferred to stand up in order to get in a pre-stretch before yoga class. She held onto her baby stroller with her left hand, gripping the handle in such a way that you couldn't miss the Tiffany diamond ring on her wedding finger.
Using the baby stroller for balance, she bent over and stretched her legs. This caused the man in the dark gray suit to sneak a peak at her yoga toned, motherly plumped ass. And of course, like a tease, as soon as the train stopped, she gathered herself and rushed off the train with her baby in the stroller, her yoga mat, the diaper bag and everything else her husband was paying for.
She didn't want to miss her yoga class. She has to stay healthy and looking fit so that hubby would find her attractive enough to want to make babies numbers 2.5 with her.
“You've got to work hard to have a happy All-American family and home,” Tom tried to drill into my head after I had vocally resented getting a job.
“Living the dream,” is what he called it.
However, on the other side of the train were different types of pieces of work. They were the ones that the man in the business suit and the yoga mom tried to keep their distances.
The art on the other side of the train is the kind of art that you can't simply buy like the ones on the right side. I found those people to be priceless. Why? Because on the opposite end were beggars, panhandlers, shopping cart women and the homeless. They are the people who live their lives day by day. They work for their survival in a way that others could not buy for them or from them.
A panhandler dressed in torn brown pants and a mildew smelling navy blue sweater walked by me with his dirty hands stretched out. He asked for some spare change so that he could get something to eat. I reached into my pocket and found 75 cents. I gave it to him. The lady, who sat next to me, reached into her purse and pulled out a sandwich that was wrapped in plastic and gave it to him.
“Thank you. God bless you,” he said to us with a nod and thankful smile.
Then the panhandler approached the man in the dark gray suit just as he was turning away from the yoga mom who had just left the train. The train doors closed and the man in the gray suit turned around to see the panhandler standing next to him.
Mr. Panhandler reached out his hand to Mr. Dark Gray Suit and asked him for his spare change. Mr. Dark Gray Suit quickly turned his head away from Mr. Panhandler. He sniffed up another booger and shook his head without giving Mr. Panhandler another moment of his precious time.
Graciously, Mr. Panhandler said to Mr. Dark Gray Suit, “Thank you anyway and may God bless you.” Then he lifted his chin and kept on moving, making his way down the aisle to continue his job, panhandling to survive another day.
This was a perfect example of priceless art and junk art. Mr. Panhandler was priceless art. He worked for his life. He didn't flinch, cry nor bat an eyelash if someone didn't pay him for his begging time. However, if Mr. Dark Gray suit didn't get his pay on time at the office, or even if his check was a dollar or two short, surely he would have a word or two with the payroll department. He may even complain to his co-workers about the unfair treatment he was receiving from the company that he worked for.
Then there was Yoga Mom. She reminded me of the most junkiest art of them all. Do you think she would give her husband offspring if that Tiffany diamond didn't shine as brightly as her newly sculpted, expensive yoga butt?
Mr. Dark Gray Suit and Yoga Mom were buyable, imitation art pieces that you could get anywhere. They had their lives, safety nets, nest eggs (whatever the hell that is), and they knew that they would live to see another day as long as they had a home and something to eat. Those things are guaranteed to them because of who they are while standing on the right side of the train. There were plenty like them and they always stayed in print because they lived long, rich and entitled, privileged lives.    
Mr. Panhandler was a limited edition. He lived day by day. If he couldn't afford to eat nor find good shelter, it would mean life or death for him. There wouldn't be another art piece that was like him. Maybe there would be others like him when he's gone, but it wouldn't be him.
That was the difference between junk art and priceless art. It was the same difference between those of us who are people and those of us who are human. To be human, it requires you to have a certain level of humanity that comes from within and it's unselfish. Later on in life, I learned that it also requires a good level of mindfulness. I will tell you about that when we get there.
I only had the level of mindfulness to accept that all of us had different backgrounds, stories and talents. We were all different colors, races, genders, sexes, shapes and sizes. No matter where we came from or where we were going, we all met and meshed aboard the same buses and trains. We were all displayed in the same life gallery.
I tried to remember some of the faces of the people and humans that I crossed paths with so that I could draw them later, when I returned home. I didn't like drawing while I was on the train because people were too nosy. Usually there was not enough room for privacy.
A man who called himself “The Ice Cream Man” came aboard the train at Five Points Train Station as we headed north. He didn't have any ice cream to share with any of us on the train. However, he said that he had a special treat for all of us and he instructed us to “hold up and listen”.
The Ice Cream Man began to rap a song in the style of a capella. He rapped to us bystanders an original song that he claimed to have written. The song was called “Big Booty in the Flesh”. I liked it. It had an upbeat, fun flow to it. The lyrics were encouraging. He rapped about how to appreciate the rear side of a feminine, shapely woman and the song instructed us listeners on how the woman's ass should be treated in an intimate, lovemaking situation.  I could relate to that song!
When he finished with his song, “The Ice Cream Man” passed out flyers to announce when his debut album was “going to drop” and when and where his next show was going taking place. The album release and his next show were not going to be free nor on public transit. I grabbed a flyer from him. And I remembered his face to draw later when I got home.
Along my walk home from the train, I asked to bum a cigarette from a nice lady who was smoking and waiting for a taxi just outside of the train station. She said that her name was Julie. Julie was a hairdresser and she said that she was running late for work. She had a client at 6pm and was afraid that she wouldn't get there on time if she took the bus. Therefore, she opted for a taxi that seemed to be taking just as long as the bus would have taken to get her to work on time.
She said that she liked my curly hair.
“Your hair is crazy!” She commented. “You ever let anyone braid it back for you so that you don't have it all over the place like this?”
I shook my head and smirked.
Then Julie asked if she could touch my hair. I let her touch it as soon as she asked. I had to insure that she'd give me a cigarette. Nonetheless, I had to wait for the cigarette until she finished running her hands through my hair, petting me, and getting her hands into the thick of my curls to make sure that her fingers could go all of the way through it without a tangle. It was awkward, but I let her have her way because I desperately wanted a cigarette.
She asked me weird questions like, “Are you mixed?” and “Are you Hispanic?”
I laughed when people asked me dumb questions about my background. I seemed to be like a puzzle to them. I remember my art teacher once called me, “racially ambiguous” in front of the whole class. It made me laugh.
The kind woman stopped rubbing my hair and reached into her purse. She pulled out her business card, a lighter and a carton of cigarettes. She handed me her business card first and said, “Call me if you want to get your hair braided or twisted. I think it would look nice in twists.”
Julie gave me her lighter and a cigarette from her carton of American Spirits. Yuck! I thought to myself. Ah well, beggars can't be choosy. I took the cigarette and lighter. Then I thanked her.
“So, what are you?” She asked as I lit the cigarette with her lighter.
I handed the lighter back to Julie and chuckled. I took a long drag of the cigarette and held in the smoke as I turned away from her and began walking in the direction towards my house.
“I'm human. Thank you! God bless you,” I said as a cloud of smoke released from my mouth.
I heard her let out a great belly laugh as I walked away.

~ * ~

Author Information

Felicia Johnson is a mental health and youth advocate. She is a motivational speaker who shares her life story about surviving abuse and living with mental illness. Felicia has spoken around the world to many diverse audiences. She is an active youth mentor with Youth Villages Inner Harbour. She speaks for organizations such as The National Alliance On Mental Illness (NAMI) and Personality Disorders Awareness Network (PDAN). Felicia Johnson's first novel called “HER” has gained popularity and recognition from audiences and organizations worldwide.

Felicia lives in Atlanta, Georgia USA with her loving husband and their cat that they call Eren Jaegar, named after her favorite anime character. She loves ice cream, hugs and having great belly laughs with friends.

Author Links
Twitter @FeliciaLJohnson
Site for her book Her

~ * ~


Felicia is giving two winners the chance to win their very own copy of OK Danny Boy VOL 1. All you have to do to be in with a chance of winning is hit the link below and leave an entry on the rafflcopter. Good luck!

Wednesday, 21 February 2018

WMS: Release Blitz: All You Need is Love

Out Now! All You Need is Love 

#99cents #GLBT @AdrianaKraft #MFRWAuthor

 All You Need is Love

A Limited Edition Romance Collection

With stories by

Tamsin Baker, Jess Buffett,‎ Kristine Cayne,‎ Adriana Kraft,‎ Cate Farren,‎ Valerie Ullmer,‎ Kai Tyler,‎ Lexi Thorne,‎ Izzy Szyn,‎ Aeryn Jaden, Dana Kenzi, Celia Fay, and Dani Gray

Romance Collections is proud to present these thirteen stories of love that knows no boundaries. Like rivers flowing through the canvas of earth, these stories will run deep, touch softly and leave you breathless.

No matter who it is with, passion is magnificent, desires are bold, and love is beautiful.

Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/allyouneedislove

The Omega Shift, by Tamsin Baker
Running in Circles, by Jess Buffett
Burning for Him, by Kristine Cayne
Three: A Love Story, by Adriana Kraft
Stop me Falling, by Cate Farren
Fall for You, by Valerie Ullmer
Homecoming, by Kai Tyler
Lesbian Alien Affairs, by Lexi Thorne
Bound for Landia, by Izzy Szyn
Wide Awake, by Aeryn Jaden
Once Upon a Crush, by Dana Kenzi
The Honest Change, by Celia Fay
Cupid’s Valentine, by Dani Gray

BLURB Three: A Love Story by Adriana Kraft

As erotic romance authors, my husband and I love writing ménage and polyamory stories because they offer so many options for sizzling sex scenes. We craft sexual encounters on the page that appeal to both of us in hopes they’ll appeal to the fantasies of other men and women, as well.

But what happens when these hot erotic fantasies run headlong into real-life obstacles? What does polyamory look like when it happens to ordinary people? That’s the challenge we set ourselves in “Three: A Love Story,” our contribution to the Boxed Set All You Need is Love.

Three lives—but how many loves? Two bisexual women deeply in love with each other also enjoy dating men and even arranging an occasional three-way. What if one of these women starts to fall in love with a man?

~ * ~


Jamie tilted her head to the side as Susan curled back in next to her. “So what do you think of Mason?”
“Ah, Mason. He’s the source of your stewing. Is he starting to wear on you? How long has it been—three months? Four months?”
“He’s not wearing on me. And it’s nearly five months.” Jamie paused to wet her lips. “You didn’t answer my question. What do you think of him? What do you really think of him?”
Susan flinched. “Well, I haven’t thought a lot about him, though I must say he has stayed around longer than any guy in recent memory.” Susan sighed. “Okay, to be honest. I think he seems like a very nice guy. When he’s over here, it’s because he’s come to see you, so I don’t really spend a lot of time with him. I’ve cooked a few dinners for you guys, but most of time he comes, you go out, you come back, and you fuck like two wildcats. I’m surprised the neighbors haven’t complained. And he’s usually gone before I’m up in the morning. And lately you’ve been spending much more time at his house than at our apartment…for your love nest activities, that is. I must say that’s easier on me. I get more sleep, and I don’t have to imagine what you and he are doing to each other.”
“That’s it?”
“What else do you want me to say? I’m an English professor, not a social worker. He doesn’t seem abusive. He’s easy to look at. He doesn’t…” Susan paused. “Uh oh. If he’s not wearing on you and yet you’re stewing about him...” She arched an eyebrow. “Jams, maybe you’d better tell me what’s really on your mind.”
Jamie didn’t miss the sudden flash of anxiety that crossed Susan’s face. 

About Adriana Kraft

Winner of the 2014 Bisexual Book Award for erotic fiction, author Adriana Kraft is a married couple writing Sizzling Romantic Suspense and Erotic Romance for Two, Three, or More. 

Whether readers open our romantic suspense or our erotic romance, they can expect characters they care about, hot sex scenes, and a compelling story. Our suspense stories deliver one man, one woman, danger and intrigue. Our erotic romance is edgier and nearly always includes ménage or polyamory, sometimes with two women and a man, sometimes with two (or more) couples.

Together we have published more than forty romance novels and novellas to outstanding reviews. We love hearing from readers at adrianakraft99@yahoo.com, and here is our website: When It’s Time to Heat Things Up http://adrianakraft.com

Social Media Links

Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.

Monday, 19 February 2018

RBTL Tours: Smoldering Flame bu Andrew Grey

Title: Smoldering Flame   
Author: Andrew Grey
Series: Rekindled Flame Series Book 3  
Genre:  M/M Contemporary Romance, Firefighter
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Release Date: Feb 13 2018
Edition/Formats Available In: eBook & Print


Sometimes the strongest flames take the longest to ignite.

Firefighter Dean’s life revolves around his very ill son, Sammy. Caring for Sammy and working to make ends meet leave Dean time for little else, and romance isn’t something he can even consider—no matter how much he longs for someone special to join their family. Because money is tight, Dean couldn’t be more grateful to the photographer who does Sammy’s session free of charge.

After growing up in the foster care system, Marco knows how to rely on himself, and his hard work is about to pay off—he’s poised on the cusp of fame and success he could only have imagined as a lonely child. When Dean brings Sammy into Marco’s studio, Marco can see they’re struggling, and both the boy and his father stir Marco’s heart. The slow burn between the two men isn’t something either expected, but neither wants to lose the possibility of a loving future. With Dean’s dangerous and possibly life-threatening career and Marco’s demanding one, can romance and forever find a place to fit?

Book Links
Barnes and Noble

Dreamspinner Press


“Dean, why don’t you come back?” Marco spoke softly, but Sammy woke and got down. Taking the handle of his oxygen tank, he walked toward the back. His eyes widened and a smile formed on his lips when he saw the Dalmatian. He padded over to it and hugged the stuffed toy. It was a good foot taller than Sammy, but he wrapped his arms around it anyway.
“Daddy! This is like Louie. Only lots bigger and not alive.” Sammy turned, grinning, and Marco pursed his lips and swallowed around the lump in his throat.
“Do you want to have your picture taken with him?” Marco asked.
“Can I?” Sammy bounced for a few seconds and then seemed to tire a little.
“Sure,” Dean said, smiling.
Marco got into position and told Sammy how to stand, standing him with the oxygen tank behind the dog’s front legs. It was nearly completely hidden, yet close enough that Sammy wouldn’t have any issues.
“Can you smile for me?” Marco asked, and Sammy grinned. Marco snapped the pictures, one after another. “Stay right there.” He hurried to the prop closet and returned with a fireman’s hat. He put it on Sammy and took more pictures.
“Daddy’s a fireman.” Excited, Sammy was barely able to stand still, even though his energy faded quickly.
Marco went through a number of poses and then asked Dean to step in as well. Dean knelt behind the dog, and Marco got some wonderful pictures of the two of them. They smiled, and Sammy laughed and giggled. Only Marco’s professionalism kept him behind the camera and separated from the scene in front of him. He took all the pictures with the dog he needed and then got some of just Dean and Sammy together. They were incredibly photogenic, their smiles leaping into the camera.
When Sammy grew too tired to continue, Marco wound it down and then snapped a picture of Sammy alone, looking straight at him.
“You did great,” Marco said as Sammy sat down next to his tank, leaning on it, closing his eyes. Marco waited a few seconds, then took one last picture of him before putting the camera aside. “I hope he isn’t too worn out.”
Dean smiled. “You made him very happy.” He walked to where Sammy sat and carefully lifted him into his arms. Sammy curled right against his chest and had to be asleep.
Marco led him out front and sat at the computer. “It will take me a few days to get the pictures ready for you. Can you give me an email address? I’ll send you a link to the finished images so you can have them printed.”
Dean gave him the information. “How much do I owe you?” He fidgeted, trying to get out his wallet.
Marco shook his head. “Nothing.”

~ * ~

Author Information

Andrew grew up in western Michigan with a father who loved to tell stories and a mother who loved to read them. Since then he has lived throughout the country and traveled throughout the world. He has a master’s degree from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and works in information systems for a large corporation.

Andrew’s hobbies include collecting antiques, gardening, and leaving his dirty dishes anywhere but in the sink (particularly when writing)  He considers himself blessed with an accepting family, fantastic friends, and the world’s most supportive and loving partner. Andrew currently lives in beautiful, historic Carlisle, Pennsylvania.

Author Links
Facebook Group All the Way with Andrew Grey
Twitter @andrewgreybooks

~ * ~

For Other Works by Andrew Grey
(Please Be Sure To Stop by His Website to See All of His Works)

~ * ~


Andrew is giving two lucky readers a chance to win their choice of any of his Rekindled Flame Books via Dreamspinners Press.  All you have to do is hit the link below and leave an entry on the rafflecopter. Good luck!


Friday, 16 February 2018

WMS: Release Blitz: Love Me Hard Boxed Set

Love Me Hard Boxed Set—Out Now! 

#lovemehard #romance #eroticromance

Romance Collections is proud to present these fifteen sexy and scintillating stories of passion, lust and desire. With each pulsating chapter, you will be pulled into these stories that will seduce you with every flip of the page.
So, do not hold back.
Do not set your eReader down.
It's time to curl up and get lost as you read these tales of loving oh so hard.                       
Featuring books by some of today's hottest best selling and award-winning authors, including:  Nicole Morgan, Whitley Cox, Lucy Felthouse, Aeris Lize, Lita Lawson, Jeanne St. James, Alyssa Drake, Marissa Farrar, Christina Rose Andrews, Erica Lynn, EmKay Connor, T.J. Loveless, Molly Alvarado, Celia Fay and Kathleen Lawless.

Grab your copy today! https://books2read.com/lovemehard  

~ * ~

Excerpt from Lottery Losers by Lucy Felthouse:

Susie Parmenter let out a heavy sigh and closed her book, then put it down on the table beside her. She closed her eyes and let her head loll back on her shoulders, enjoying the warmth of the summer sunshine on her skin, which was pleasant but not too hot. It wasn’t the book that was boring her—under normal circumstances, she’d have been riveted by the crime fiction novel featuring a hunky lead detective—it was life. Just lately, her world had become so dull, so predictable, that she just couldn’t summon any enthusiasm for anything.
The worst of it was, she couldn’t tell anyone. It was a problem so utterly first world it was embarrassing. Humiliating, even. Admitting her permanent state of apathy would be ridiculous, and she doubted anyone would understand where she was coming from, anyway. After all, how could you possibly tell your friends, your family, your husband, that you were bored out of your damn mind when you had, quite literally, everything? Since winning a lottery jackpot twelve months ago, Susie and her husband, Peter, had had their worlds turned completely upside down.
At first, of course, it had been amazing. They had won more than enough money to live incredibly lavish lifestyles for the remainder of their years—even if they lived to be very old indeed. So, once the cash was safely in the bank, they’d quit their jobs. Then they’d taken off on an incredible round-the-world trip, spending much of their travel time plotting and planning what else they were going to spend their winnings on. By the time they arrived home, they were ready to hire an architect to draw up plans for a custom-build home. Another two weeks later, they’d found and purchased the plot of land, and were talking to builders. Things moved fast—but then, Susie had found that was often the case when large sums of money were involved.
Now their dream home was complete. It was, naturally, stunning. The huge house stood high on a hillside in the Derbyshire countryside, with only a handful of other properties in sight. It was situated so that from one side of the house, you could watch the sun rise in the morning, and from the other, you could watch it set in the evening. There was a covered and heated swimming pool, a Jacuzzi, a sauna, a gym, a home cinema… everything a person could possibly need or want, and then some.
They employed a cleaner and a gardener, so aside from cooking meals three times a day—if they didn’t eat out or order takeaway, that was—there was nothing to do around the house. Susie had moved the furniture umpteen times, which was a novelty at first, given their old house had been so small that every single item had a place that it fitted into—barely, in some cases—and that was that. She now found herself swapping pictures around and tweaking the positions of ornaments on a regular basis, often putting them back where they’d been to start with.
She’d gotten into a routine of using the pool, gym, and sauna every morning, but that still left hours and hours of the day just waiting to be filled.
It was all right for Peter—he might have ditched his job, but these days his time was divided between playing golf, and being involved in a bunch of stuffy business boards. She didn’t really understand what he did at the meetings, if she was honest, but it didn’t matter. What did matter was that, only weeks after moving in to their beautiful new home, Susie’s boredom was at fever pitch. She was climbing the walls. Surely even board meetings were more exciting than this?

Grab your copy today! https://books2read.com/lovemehard  

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.