Cover Reveal, Exclusive Excerpt, & Giveaway – I Am Hope by Evelyn Shepherd



Evelyn Shepherd reveals the beautiful cover art for her next book in her THE METEORA TRILOGY series titled I AM HOPE.

It releases on September 8, 2015, published by Loose Id Publication.



The undead were only the beginning.

Topher, Jesse, and Sawyer thought their greatest threat were the Infected and Mutated that roam the world. As they struggle to reach the camp in Kill Devil Hills in North Carolina, they soon discover that the monstrous mutations of the undead are the least of their problems. Something else, something far more intelligent and lethal, is hunting them.

Topher knows that the only way humanity will survive is to find a cure for the strange infection that’s ravaged the world. He’s on the brink of discovering it; but the further his research goes, the more he realizes that curing the world of the infection may mean losing Sawyer.

The three will fight to stay together, and Topher will have to make the ultimate choice: cure the world or save his lover?



Cover Art by Valerie Tibbs




Rio eased the door open, with me standing behind her and the light over her shoulder. She kept her gun level for a head shot. Carefully, she inched into the room. I moved the light over the classroom, starting at the teacher’s desk by the door and working my way around the windows and to the computers. The fluorescent beam settled on a hunched figure in the corner.

The figure lifted his head, and my light reflected off his pewter eyes. He lurched forward, staggering to his feet. With a guttural cry, he rushed Rio.

Rio fired off a round, and the Infected’s head snapped back. He hit the floor with a heavy thud.

Read more exclusive excerpts on –

|| Wicked Faeries Tales & Reviews || World of Diversity Fiction || Tempeste O’Riley ||

|| Diverse Reader || Reviews by Jessewave || MM Good Book Reviews ||

|| The Purple Rose Tea House || Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents || Divine Magazine ||

|| Nautical Star Books || Love Bytes Reviews ||



Evelyn Shepherd lives in Columbus, Ohio with two fat cats. Her time is split between writing and running a book/writing blog. She’s the author of the Theo Bourne Series, the best-selling Last Canticle, and the award-winning Meteora Trilogy.

|| Blog & Website || Facebook Page || Twitter || Tumblr || Email ||



Winner’s Prize: E-copies of I AM HERE (Book 1) and I AM ALIVE (Book 2)

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Blog Tour, Exclusive Excerpt, & Giveaway – Fourth and Long by Michele Michael Rakes

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Title: Fourth and Long
Author: Michele M. Rakes
Length: Long Novel
ISBN: 978-1-62300-870-3
Genre: LGBTTQ, Multicultural, Contemporary
Cover Artist: Valerie Tibbs

2015NewAbout the Book

Irus Beaumont, cornerback for the Highlanders, has an issue with his nemesis: wideout for the Pirates, Jackson McCoy. Partly jealous over Jackson’s skill and ability to scrub coverage, Irus also struggles against an unbearable attraction to the receiver. Firmly ensconced in the closet, Irus also has a no football player rule, leaving his desires for Jackson unfulfilled. Anti-gay sentiment in the league keeps Irus closeted, even though he’d rather be out and proud.

When Jackson McCoy suffers a gay bashing at the hands of his team mates after winning the national championship, he finds himself traded to the Highlanders. Spring training brings out Jackson’s competitive nature, eliciting the aggression of his new team’s cornerback, Irus Beaumont.

In practice, Irus hurts Jackson badly. The injury places Jackson on the reserve roster. Jacks has plenty of time to contemplate his life, career, and his attraction to the sexy cornerback. Off to Orlando for the best rehab where guilt inspires Irus to call him every evening, Jackson can’t stop thinking about Irus, or what the season holds for his team.

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2015NewAbout the author

Michele Rakes Author PictureMichele Micheal Rakes lives in a small town in the shadow of a big mountain. She works as a surgical technologist assisting in the removal of tonsils and testicles. She has three grown children, two psychotic Egyptian Mau’s, a husband with hair down to his ass, two Harley’s, and a ferret named Teeny Tiny Ferret Feet (husband insists her name Little Feet, we all know he’s wrong).


Twitter: @MicheleRakes






R – Rated

The facility’s empty. Everyone has gone home except Harold, one of the equipment guys. I’m running routes, working out using the jugs machine, and Harold loads it for me.

“Jackson, go home. It’s late,” Coach Bryant says.

The loss tonight only drives me to work harder to get back on the field. “Can’t, Coach. I’m almost done anyway.”

Coach looks contemplative. “All right, don’t overdo it. Harold, keep an eye on him.”

“Will do, Coach.”

We work out for a while longer before Harold calls it quits. Probably for the best. The workout was good, but now I’m regretting it because my muscles are tightening up. Must’ve been the tension from this evening, running up and down the sidelines, chasing after Coach.

Time to cool down and ease my sore muscles. First the ice bath.  Next is heat. Nothing like feeling my nuts shrivel. I’m soaking in the whirlpool when the cramp hits worse than any of the cramps in Orlando. The back of my head hits the tub as I jerk in reflex, squeezing my eyes shut against the pain. Someone grabs me. I open my eyes. Two big, black, football-gnarled hands yank me from the tub. Irusthrows me to the ground. I hit the floor hard, my leg slung painfully over Irus’s shoulder. Those strong thumbs zero in on my pain.

“Fuck, Iris.”

A wide palm stings my naked ass.

“That’s not my name, boy.”

God, does he know I’m lusting after him? Does he realize how good his hand feels on my ass?

“Breathe,” he orders.

I grit my teeth to a fresh wave of agony.

My leg drips water on his nice suit. The one he wore to the airport after the miserable loss.

“Jackson, what’re you—”

“They’re gonna cut me if I can’t perform.”

Yeah, that shut him up. He hurt me. Took me out of the game. Now we’re losing. What’s he gonna say? Sorry?

“Don’t be a fool, Jacks. We couldn’t put you in tonight. Coach doesn’t want to risk your getting hurt again. Quit taking on all the guilt. It’s my fault. All of it’s my fault.”

The cramp eases. His wonderful hands slide up and down my thigh. I’m naked. Open. Exposed. I sit up, but he doesn’t give me an inch. Our noses touch. I smell the whiskey. A hint of his expensive cologne. My dick wants his hands. The head brushes my belly, so fucking hard, and he can see his full effect on me.


His fast hands knot in my hair, holding me immobile, and his lips collide withmine. All his weight crushes me to the floor as his tongue explores my mouth. I wrap my wet legs around his hips, dragging him to me.

Isn’t exploration violent? God, I hope so. I need it hard. Let him inside. Expose all of me. Irus is all I want.“Fuck me,” I whisper between sloppy kisses. I’m still afraid, even as his tongue dances down my throat to lavish my hollow, his lips skimming my clavicle.

His hands flex in my hair. He pulls away. I feel a loss more intense than the game tonight. “Not here,” he says. His voice is tight, angry, but in control.

“Take me home, Irus.”

“My place is closer.”

The idea scares me, going home with a teammate again, but this is Irus. The man who, down deep in my soul, I know I need. I feel safer, though, more comfortable in my own home. I’ve been away so long. The idea of Irus in my bed, washing away the memories of Terry Branson, makes me insistent.

“Can we go to my house?” The long ride will give Irus a chance to back out. The thought kills me, but I should be fair to the man. Give him a chance to prevent a mistake.

Irus kisses me. The taste of whiskey nowhere near as repulsive as it had been on Terry’s lips. He’s different. So unlike Terry. I trust Irus. He groans into my mouth as he grinds against my hard dick. The length of his shaft pressed to mine.

“I’m getting you wet,” I whisper.

He takes my mouth again. Harder.

God, I want him out of his clothes. The image of him in nothing but his jock pops into my head. His cock so long and thick. The memory of those dark curls dancing their way up his belly teases me. I reach for him, rubbing his shaft through the soft material of his trousers. He looks good. I bet he tastes even better. I want to suck his cock. I’m breathless with need.

“I’ll take you home, Jackson.” He removes my hand from his dick. “Let me get under control. It’s a long drive.”


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2015NewTour Info

4/24/2015           Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents
4/24/2015           Cia’s Stories

4/25/2015           Love Bytes
4/25/2015           The Purple Rose Tea House

4/26/2015           Gay Media Reviews
4/26/2015           Divine Magazine  
4/26/2015           Because Two Men Are Better Than One

4/27/2015           Man2ManTastic.blogspot
4/27/2015           Gay.Guy.Reading and Friends
4/27/2015           The Novel Approach

4/28/2015           Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews
4/28/2015           Two Chicks Obsessed with Books 
4/28/2015           Elisa -My reviews and Ramblings

4/29/2015           Bike Book Reviews
4/29/2015           Drops of Ink

4/30/2015          Jill Prand
4/30/2015          MM Good Book Reviews

5/1/2015         Bayou Book Junkie
5/1/2015         BFD Book Blog
5/1/2015         Sid Love

Kelly Wyre – Fight Blog Tour & Giveaway!

Howdy! Kelly Wyre (rhymes with) here today at The Purple Rose Tea House to talk about shoes and ships and sealing wax, books and MMA fighting rings! I’m ever-so-grateful to the Purple Rose for hosting my humble chaos, and am thankful for you, too, for stopping by.

Let’s kick off these shenanigans by doing a little Q&A where I, Kelly Wyre, play both sides of this questioning checkerboard!

How’s it hangin’, Kelly?
*setting out baked goods, coffee, (many pots of) tea, and unabashedly and liberally spiking the party punch* Oh, it’s thick, sweet, and to the point. I’ve got new book out from Loose Id Publishing.

Dude! Awesome. What’s it about?
Well, I could tell you. Or I could let Lego Fury and Nathan do the heavy lifting.

TA DAH! Aren’t they awesome?

Yes. And now we will all have that song stuck in our heads until further notice.
You’re welcome!

No. Just… no.
*blinking brightly in feigned innocence*

*sighs* Fine. How about you tell us what inspired you to create Nathan and Fury?
Well, I’d probably argue that they created themselves and picked me to give them textual depth, but that’s neither here nor there. Fight actually had its earliest roots in fanfiction, believe it or not. I had this vague idea for a plot line concerning two characters that I wanted to explore in my seriously alternate-alternate universe world, and I wrote the bones of the introductory chapter. I left the idea on the proverbial shelf for a couple of years, and when I came across it again, I already had this idea of a frat boy and a fighter brewing. The start of the fanfiction and the breadth of the novel I wanted to write meshed well together, and thus… Nathan Hunt and Fury were born and then… bred. So to speak.

Yeah, I know. I went there.

I suppose we really shouldn’t be surprised, anymore.
I wasn’t going to point that out. But no, you really shouldn’t.

Well, thank you for the candor. Anything else you’d like to mention before we toss links, social media, and covers, oh my, at the dear readers?
They might be interested in the contest.

I’m running a contest to celebrate the new release over on my blog. I’m giving away three ebook copies of the book, and those winners will also receive a free MP3 file of me reading one of the juicier bits of my novel, (and don’t worry; I’ve got years of experience reading erotica and doing my very best When Harry Met Sally routine). And one additional lucky winner will be eligible for the GRAND PRIZE: the ebook, the audio file, and the Lego versions of Fury and Nathan featured in that video up above. All details are over on my site.

So comment here to enter to win, dear readers! And don’t forget to include your email info so Kelly can let you know if you’ve won. Now for the last and all-important question: Where can we buy a copy of FIGHT?
You can get your copy RIGHT HERE! And here’s a little more about the book and me, myself, and the silly I.

Fight by Kelly WyreThe truth is worth anything and everything you’ve got.

To Nathan Hunt, honesty is anything but the best policy. Telling the truth has gotten him nothing but heartache and pain; so lying about who he is and what he wants seems to be the only path to job security and friends. Hell, it even brings him a hollow kind of happiness.

Except, that’s not much of a life for any man. Especially one with Nathan’s passion. Desperate to cure his self-made misery, Nathan agrees to go along with a con that will score cash for Nathan to start over. There’s just one problem: lying is getting harder by the day. And a con who can’t lie, is a con who gets caught.

Nathan’s attempts to distract himself from his moral quandary lead him to a mysterious, intoxicating man named Fury. The Mixed Martial Arts fighter knows a thing or two about lies and pasts better left buried. He and Nathan have something else in common – they both want to be with someone who lets them be themselves.

Together, they undertake a journey that proves honesty is more dangerous and more difficult than either of them could have imagined. And as they combat addiction, thugs, guns, and their own inner demons, Nathan and Fury can only hope that their battle to be together will be worth the bitter fight.

Nathan registered the look of dulled shock in Duke’s eyes, and a presence manifested next to them. Nathan shoved Duke away but didn’t do anything else. He was too busy staring up at Fury and fighting for control.

Fury leveled a gaze on Nathan but didn’t say a word or lift a hand. He had on jeans, a checkered shirt, and a long coat that was stretched taut across his shoulders.

“Oh, hey…hey, Fury.” Duke straightened his clothing, but he was the rabbit cornered in the hunt. “Didn’t… Man, I didn’t see you.”

Fury swiveled his head and glowered. Duke backed up, smart enough to read a cold trail. “We cool, man. We all cool, here. Nate? You know where to find me if you need me, right?”

Nathan struggled to make his vision stop bleeding red and didn’t answer.

“Cool. It’s cool.” Duke smacked his lips and jogged off in the other direction.

Nathan would have sighed in relief and slumped against the wall, but Fury returned his focus to Nathan, who suddenly had sympathy for those insects pinned to boards for display.

“Ah…” Nathan cleared his throat. He wiped his palms on his jeans and tried to think straight. “Um…hey.”

Fury still said nothing, and Nathan tensed so he wouldn’t squirm. “You had a great fight. Earlier, I mean. Inside…in the…not out… Right.”

Fury blinked. Slowly. His eyelashes were so dark and thick, it looked like the guy wore mascara. He wasn’t exactly an attractive man in the traditional sense. Too much forehead, eyes too close together, big, crooked nose…

“Duke’s an asshole,” Nathan babbled. “Harmless, usually. Just fucked up tonight.” Nathan had no idea why on God’s green earth he was defending Duke. Or maybe he was defending himself. Trying to be smooth after a tweaked-out piece of shit cornered him in a parking lot, and Nathan had to tamp down the urge to kill Duke with his bare hands? Christ, what was wrong with him? Nathan took anger out on himself, not others.

“He sells some decent weed, if that’s your thing,” Nathan tried to joke, laughing feebly. Fury only had three inches of height on Nathan, but Fury might as well be the size of skyscrapers.

“It’s not,” Fury said in his characteristic growl. “My thing.”

“Oh.” Nathan coughed. Of course, he would try to push weed on a teetotaler. That was Nathan’s style, right there. Smooth. “Well. Sure. Not with what you do for a living, right? Can’t be good for the—”

“I got other things.”

Nathan shut his mouth with an audible clack of teeth. Fury still studied Nathan, hands loose at his sides, shoulders at ease, expression neutral. If the fighting thing ever failed, Fury had a bright future in poker. “That right?” Nathan asked.

Fury nodded, and again, it was slow. “Yeah.” Fury looked Nathan up and down, just like he had after Nathan had spotted him on the weight bench. Must be trying to place him. No way was it anything else.

“You were at the gym,” Fury said at last.

With the threads of recognition in Fury’s tone, Nathan’s logic died, and he got sucker punched by hope. Stupid, untimely, insipid, teenager-with-a-crush hope. “I…uh, yeah, I was. I think.”

“You think?” Fury asked with what might have been amusement.

“I do. Think,” Nathan replied with more assurance. It was easier to come by when he told himself this conversation wasn’t really happening.

Fury finally quit inspecting Nathan and glanced around the parking lot. “You headin’ back inside?”

“I…I don’t think so.”

Fury stared at something far away. “You interested in some more action?”

“Always.” The answer flew from Nathan’s lips before he could catch it. The symptoms of the panic returned, but they hurt a little less. “What you got?”

Fury shoved his hands into his pockets. “I got somewhere to be.” He took a few steps toward the row of cars, and he paused, raising his eyebrows at Nathan. “You comin’?”

Do all you do in and for love. Many thanks!
Kelly Wyre
enjoys reading and writing all manner of fiction, ranging from horror to romance. She used to work in advertising but is now happily chained to her writing desk. Kelly relishes the soft and cuddly and the sharp and bloody with equal amounts of enthusiasm. She’s a coffee addict, a workaholic, a chronic night owl, and loves a good thunderstorm. Currently Kelly resides in the southeastern United States.
Kelly Wyre’s WebsiteKelly’s BlogKelly’s Twitter
Kelly’s FacebookKelly’s Tumblr (NSFW!) ♠ Kelly on Goodreads

And if you like FIGHT, try the New Amsterdam Series!