Blog Tour, Exclusive Excerpt, and Giveaway – The One That I Want & Hopelessly Devoted by RJ Jones

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Title: The One That I Want; Hopelessly Devoted
Author: RJ Jones
Genre: Gay Romance, Musical
Length: Short Stories
Publisher: Wayward Ink Publishing

2015NewAbout the Book

The One That I Want

Jason escapes into the magic of a Broadway play every weekend. Musicals always have a happy ending and for a few hours he can believe there’s a happy ending waiting for him, too. When the tall drink of water who works on the top floor of Jason’s building, wants to take him on a date, Jason is surprised. After all, Jason is awkward and skinny, and sees himself as a boring accountant, while Paul is tall, dark, and incredibly hot.

Despite Jason’s reservations, Paul and Jason start dating and attending the shows Jason adores. But if Paul likes musicals as much as Jason, why does he always doze off? Is Paul leading a double life? Does he have a wife tucked away somewhere?

Jason knows Paul is hiding something and when the secrets come out, Jason finds his fantasy comes to life, right there on the stage.

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The One That I Want RJ Jones

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2015NewAbout the Book

Hopelessly Devoted

One year on from Paul’s proposal, Jason is living a life he never dreamed of. As he fusses with his tie and readies to walk down the aisle, he reminisces about the previous twelve months. It hasn’t all been smooth sailing for the happy couple in the lead up to their wedding, with obstacles big and small thrown in their way.

Marrying one of New York’s most eligible bachelors has Jason’s stomach in knots. Expectations of their society wedding are high, but out of love for Paul, Jason goes along with the grand plans because he understands Paul’s family has a reputation to maintain. But Paul has a surprise up his sleeve that just may see Jason getting the wedding of his dreams.

Follow Jason on his journey as he prepares to marry one of the most eligible bachelors in New York and find out just how Dave got his name.

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Hopelessly Devoted

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Hopelessly Devoted

NOT LONG after I moved in, we had a problem with Dave. It seemed my cat had taken quite a liking to Paul’s shoes and peed in them whenever we left the closet door open, whether he’d been fed or not. Paul had been at his wits end trying to scrub the smell of cat urine out of his expensive loafers and it had caused more than a few fights between us.

It all came to a head when Paul was working from home one Thursday afternoon. I had stopped by our local Chinese after work to pick up dinner, and as I entered the apartment, I was assaulted by the smell of disinfectant and Paul’s yells.

“Get back here you little pissing machine!”

Dave darted past me, around the kitchen, and up the stairs, heading to his cat-flap that led to the small terrace garden on the roof. Paul was hot on his heels, naked apart from his boxer briefs, his hair wet from a recent shower, clutching the water spray bottle we used to squirt Dave when he’d done something wrong.

“Your fucking cat!” Paul yelled at me as he ran past, taking the steps two at a time after Dave.

Yes, it was my fucking cat when Dave peed in Paul’s shoes, but when Dave wanted a cuddle he was all Paul’s. I rolled my eyes at Paul’s retreating back.

I placed the takeout boxes on the counter and gathered plates and cutlery from the drawer as I waited for Paul to return. I knew Dave would be fine. There’s a hidey-hole in amongst the garden planters where he hides from the spray bottle, big enough for him to fit but too small for a human to get to him. My cat wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t come out until Paul had left or Dave thought sufficient time had passed for Paul to calm down.

Paul came down the stairs with a scowl on his face and a full squirt bottle in his hand as I finished dishing up dinner.

“I’m tearing out the planters this weekend. The fucker won’t be able to hide so easily then.”

I almost laughed, but the look on Paul’s face said I better not. I remembered what it was like to have your shoes smell like piss.

“How many this time?” I asked instead. “Three.”
“Shoes or pairs?”

“Damn.” That was a lot of pee for a small cat. “What were they doing on the floor anyway? You’re supposed to put them on the shelves. That’s why you had that fancy-ass closet built to begin with.”

So not the right thing to say.



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2015NewAbout the author

R.J. Jones started as a reader and eventually made the progression to reviewing. It wasn’t until two men popped into her thoughts, insisting on telling her their story that she started to write.

It started with one scene. A hot and dirty one in the shower…

R.J.’s initial thought was if she could write their scene then they’d shut up and allow her to concentrate on other aspects of her day. Not so. That shower scene ended up being 3000 words long and three hours of work.  And still, they didn’t shut up.  They told her their entire story and she didn’t sleep for days. Sometimes she couldn’t keep up with what they were telling her and she had to keep a notebook by her bed.

Whilst she was writing their story a side character decided he needed his story told too. Then other characters followed suit.

You see the problem? If she ever wants to sleep again then she needs to write.

R.J. is a wife and a mother to two boys. She is surrounded by males. Even her dog is a boy.



Blog Tour, Guest Post & Excerpt – Playing the Lines by J. Colby

Since this is my first official blog “tour”—I say tour but really, it’s more like a quick weekend get-away—I’d like to thank Charlie for giving me a chance to connect with you all!

Especially since I kind of emailed her out of the blue and prostrated myself at her feet. Okay it was slightly less dramatic than all that, but still, I’m grateful that she didn’t think I was a complete weirdo.

Why am I here? I’m here to pimp out my very first (ahhhhh!!) short story that Less Than Three Press is publishing for me, to be released July 22nd, 2015.

“If I were tired of you, I would have stopped walking when we passed the hotel,” he said. He knew it was a lie as soon as he said it. He’d promised he’d join Cory for dinner, and short of falling ill he wasn’t the type of person to back out on a promise.

“Would you have?”

He’d probably invited the question, but Elliot still hadn’t been expecting it and he was forced into giving it honest thought. He couldn’t help but look away though as he gave the question serious consideration.

In their careers, there was a lot of time spent doing things that pandered to clients or companies. Elliot was used to doing things he didn’t really enjoy. If he were honest with himself, he probably would have stayed even if he didn’t really want to. Except that right now he kind of wanted to. Cory seemed more interesting to him tonight, and he wanted to see more of that Cory, not the one who just flirted and smiled emptily. He wanted witty quips and the man who wanted to hear him talk.

“See?” Cory said. “You need to be more assertive. Stand up for yourself.”

Not liking the fact that once again Cory had clearly been able to tell just what he’d been thinking—or at least enough to know his feelings—Elliot frowned. It was more at himself than Cory, though. Maybe there was a lesson in poker faces that he could sign up for. How to Hide Your Thoughts 101. Yours for only five easy payments of $19.95. Surely there was something on the Shopping Channel—they sold everything.

“I stand up for myself when it matters,” he said after a long moment.

Cory’s disbelieving expression called him out on his rather obvious lie.

“I do,” he tried to insist, but it sounded weak even to him.

“And yet you don’t like me and I still managed to convince you to have dinner with me,” Cory said. He seemed nonplussed by the idea that Elliot didn’t like him.

“I don’t dislike you,” Elliot replied. It was true. Disliking something or someone was an active emotion. Up until tonight, he’d considered Cory a continued and necessary annoyance—and something to think about when he was bored and alone, not that he’d ever admit that—but that was about it. “And I need to eat. There didn’t seem any harm in having dinner with someone else.”

At least there hadn’t seemed like any harm in the idea until Cory had started acting so damn human. Now Elliot was wondering if he’d made a bad decision. He’d seen Cory charm people before and the last thing he needed was to fall for that charm.

“You don’t dislike me. Well, I certainly feel better now,” Cory said dryly.

Buy Links: Less Than Three Press * All Romance eBooks * * * Kobo

While I’m definitely over the moon happy about finally getting my toes in the proverbial water, it has unfortunately pounded home the reminder that I am absolutely terrible at finishing things.

Like, really terrible. I’m pretty sure if the fate of the world rested on me actually finishing something… well, it was really nice knowing you all, and thank you Italians for inventing spaghetti. I’ve lived in my current apartment for two and a half years and I still haven’t finished unpacking. It’s that bad.

It probably doesn’t help that my standard mindset for anything is to do ALL THE THINGS. All of them. All at once. I’m like that at work too—which is great when you have to multi-task, but not so much when you’re trying to advance an existing plot.

I think what worked best when I was working on Playing the Lines was that I already had a definitive end in mind when I started writing. Though I might have to invest in one of those massive flip charts when it comes to something longer than 12,000 words. I doubt my landlord would be all that happy with me if I started writing plot points on my walls.

So if anyone has any advice on how not to get distracted by shiny new ideas every five seconds… please tell me your secret ways. I’m begging you.

Until then, I hope you’ll give Playing the Lines a chance, and I definitely hope you like it!

Find J. Colby: Dreamwidth * Twitter * GoodReads

Excerpt & Giveaway: An Angel in Eyeliner by Hunter Frost

Angel in Eyeliner500
Title: An Angel in Eyeliner
Author: Hunter Frost
Publisher: Beaten Track Publishing
ISBN: 978-1-910635-07-0
Length: 44 Pages
Genre: LGBT, Religion and Spirituality, Short Stories,Contemporary Fiction, Holidays and Celebrations
Release Date: Dec 1st, 2014


All Mitch wants for Christmas is a quiet holiday free from grief. Patching up the target of a mugging in the back alley of his bar seems to throw that wish right out into the cold Chicago night. But the tatted, pierced, and skinny-jean wearing Keller Graham is fearless and proves to be more than a pair of icy blue eyes lined in black. Keller may be a thief, but Mitch never expected him to steal his lonely heart.


“Hey!” he barked at the group of men crowding around the chain-link fence across the alleyway. None of them must have heard, for they carried on with their shoving and cussing. Light was scarce except for the multi-colored glow above Mitch’s back door, but he squinted toward the group’s kicking feet, down among the soot-tinged snow and puddles.

Someone was on the ground.

Mitch held the gun up and racked the slide.

They heard that. He hadn’t seen heads turn that fast since the tank backfired at camp in Fallujah.

“Get the hell out of here!” Mitch yelled as he stalked toward the group, the gun held high.

The guys instantly took off in all directions, cursing and scrambling through the snow, slicks, and refuse. Nothing like a shotgun to scatter a mob. It was too easy.

Once the last of the men had cleared out and he could only hear distant footfalls, Mitch’s gaze landed on what the jerks had been crowding. A lanky man wearing all black, lay on his back amid the trash, most of his face hidden behind his long hair.

As Mitch moved closer, the cracked streetlight cast a shimmering halo in the pool of water around the man’s head. An angel…with a bruised cheek and a bloody cut under his eye. But an angel nonetheless.

When the man saw Mitch’s gun, he raised his head, his kohl-rimmed eyes going wide. He struggled to get up, attempting to skitter away like a crab. If Mitch wasn’t so concerned about him, he might have laughed.

Mitch squatted down and reached out.

“Don’t touch me!” The man brought his arms up to protect his face and in the process fell back into a chunk of dirty snow. Stagnant water splashed outward.

Mitch shifted to avoid the splatter. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” He coughed once and groaned, his breath misting before him. “Just sore.”

The guy shivered and Mitch realized how cold it was out here, and how cold he must be in his thin, and now wet, jacket. Didn’t he have something warmer for these vicious Chicago winters?

“Let’s get you up, then.” Mitch stood and opened his palm.

The guy leaned up onto his elbows. “Just leave me alone, will you?”

“I can’t.”

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An Angel in Eyeliner is from the Boughs of Evergreen Holiday Anthology from Beaten Track Publishing.

Boughs of Evergreen is a two-volume collection of short stories celebrating the holiday season in all its diversity. Penned by authors from the UK, the USA, Scandinavia and Eastern Europe, these are tales of the young and the not-so-young from many different walks of life.

Themes of family, friendship and romance take readers on a journey through some of the major holidays, both past and present, including Thanksgiving, Advent, St. Lucia Day, Hanukkah, Eid, Saturnalia, Winter Solstice, Yule, Christmas and New Year. In each we find at the very least hope, and often love, peace and happiness.

Each story will also be published individually as ebooks on 1st December, 2014.

Proceeds from sales of this anthology will be donated to The Trevor Project. The Trevor Project is the leading national organization [USA] providing crisis intervention and suicide prevention services to lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and questioning (LGBTQ) young people ages 13-24. For more information, visit: 

2015About the author

Hunter lost a bet at a blackjack table and begrudgingly traded temperate Southern California for the sweltering heat of Las Vegas. There she resides with an extremely tolerant boyfriend and two cats named after her favorite beverage, Latte and Java.

When she’s not dreaming of returning to coastal living, Hunter works at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, from where she recently received her Master’s in British history. In order to appease her muse, she writes the kind of fiction that keeps her sane. She adores romance in all forms, but prefers her stories with two heroes that find their happily-ever-after with each other.


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