#RAtR: Favourite M|M books clothed in autumnal covers

Read Around the Rainbow

As you’re probably aware, #RAtR is a blogging project I am doing with a few friends who also write LGBTQIA romance. You can find everyone by clicking here or on the image to the right.

This month, to celebrate the start of autumn, we’re talking about our favourite books with red, yellow and orange covers! Mine are The Salisbury Key by Harper Fox, Slippery Creatures by K. J. Charles and The Lawrence Brown Affair by Cat Sebastian.

The Salisbury Key by Harper Fox

The Salisbury Key is one of my favourite Harper Fox books–and there are so many to choose from. Most recently I’ve listened to this in audio and it’s a perfect rendition.

There’s a lot of pain in this story. Warnings for suicide, grief and the trauma that falls out from them. It’s a long time since I read it and because the audio is much slower than I read myself, I think the grief had much more impact on me.

Dan is devastated when his older partner kills himself, and sets himself to find out why through the haze of emotion and guilt he’s surrounded by. He meets a young soldier, Rain, who he has an instant connection with and together they open a can of worms containing biological weapons and evil. It’s a bit of an odd mixture with the archaeology thread, but it works really well and it’s a favourite of mine. The narration is perfect. I loved Rain’s voice in particular and I love this version of the cover.

Slippery Creatures by K. J. Charles

This is the first of the Will Darling Adventures and I cannot tell you how much I love all of them. Not quite as much as The Green Men…but the cover colour was wrong, so here we are :).

1920s stories are very much my bag both to read and write and this one hits all my beats. Sparky flappers, wounded heroes, people utterly messed up from four years of war finding their feet again and a long, involved mystery arc that threads all three books together.

Highly recommend.

The Lawrence Browne Affair by Cat Sebastian

I love this series of Cat Sebastian’s. They are early eighteenth century historicals with an excellent portrayal of late Georgian England.

In this episode, we meet Lawrence, the definitive Mad Scientist archetype. He’s shut up in his ruinous castle in the middle of the countryside. Is he mad, though? Or is he just neurodivergent? YOU DECIDE! I love him.

I also love Georgie, who’s a proper con-artist, but goes straight for love and has to get himself out of the pickle he’s got himself and Lawrence involved with.

There is also a very large dog, which is another reason to highly recommend it.

Find everyone else’s favourite’s here!

Nell Iris : Ofelia Grand : Amy Spector : Ellie Thomas : Holly Day : K. L. Noone : Addison Albright

Guest Post by K. L. Noone: The Naming of Weather

Hi there, and thanks again to Ally for letting me drop by to share a new release! (You’re very welcome!)

“The Naming of Weather” came out from JMS Books a couple of days ago—it’s about 8k, m/m, the latest (perhaps penultimate) bonus story for Jason and Colby, my Character Bleed main characters! In this one, they’re doing some wedding-planning, and Colby’s got a question about names and name-changing


There also might be some poolside comfort sex. And calligraphy.

This story came about because of conversations with friends, honestly: a while ago—back when I was writing the first draft of the whole Character Bleed trilogy!—we ended up having discussions about whether Colby and Jason would take each other’s names, or if they’d combine or hyphenate. And, well—if you want to know the answer, there definitely is one in the story, and it suits them, I suspect


A small bit of trivia: I have more songs on the playlist—some Fratellis, a bit of The Doors, and Bright Eyes—but the overall theme song for this one, which is a very Colby song, is “Aside” by The Weakerthans, which I’ve always loved: circumnavigate this body of wonder and uncertainty / armed with every precious failure and amateur cartography


Thanks for reading!

The Naming of Weather

The Naming of Weather by K. L. Noone

Colby Kent and Jason Mirelli are getting married. Colby’s trying to balance wedding planning, writing the next award-winning screenplay, and a new life in his new home with Jason. He’s happier than he ever thought he’d be. But he’s got a question or two. He could use Jason’s help, but he doesn’t want Jason to worry.

Jason likes making Colby happy. He’s happy too: right where he belongs, at Colby’s side, together on movie sets and at home. But he can’t help worrying. Colby still forgets to eat, and to put on sunblock when swimming, and now Colby has a question. About their wedding.

Fortunately, it’s a question they agree on


Excerpt

“Thinking about that
the wedding plans, and such
”

“Picking a calligraphy style?”

Jason had noticed the pen and notebook, then; Colby, entertained and in love, drew a J across his fiancé’s bicep, fingertip a writing implement for an instant. “No, that was only random. Keeping my fingers busy, while thinking about all the emails and production questions and answers for Jillian. Purely meditative, I’m afraid, this time.”

“I like it when you’re happy. So if not that, then what?”

“Ah
it might be an odd question. Or perhaps not. I don’t know.”

Jason moved a hand, stroked hair out of Colby’s face, gently defied the tugging breeze on his behalf. “Ask me whatever you want, cream puff.”

“Well
yes. All right. About the wedding plans
this was on a checklist I saw, and I hadn’t thought, but then I thought, well, if that might be perhaps a question, and then I thought about the question
” He’d begun now. No going back. “Do you want me to take your name?”

“Do I want you to—” Jason stopped. The afternoon skipped a beat, suspended in gold.

Even the breeze got expectant. Hushed. Paying attention.

“Colby,” Jason said, sitting back more. His hands were solid on Colby’s shoulders, one moving to touch Colby’s chin, to ensure their eyes met. He did not move much other than that, as if afraid to shatter a crystal moment.

“It was only a question?” Colby said, and then realized that that’d come out as a question, and cringed internally at himself.

Jason swallowed. “I know. Um
before I say anything
can you do something for me?”

“Of course, anything—”

“Think about how you just asked me that. What you said.”

“Whether you want me to
oh.” He heard it, then. About what Jason wanted: not about what he, Colby, wanted, nor about them deciding together. “Oh. I didn’t mean
I don’t know what I meant. I’m sorry.”

This time Jason flinched, visibly. Grief in those deep earth-rich wells, windows right down into a giant heart that opened up and bled for everyone.

Colby bit his lip, and then, because he meant it and because he had a decent guess about the reaction he’d provoke, grumbled, “Oh, damn.”

Jason blinked. Eyebrows going up. “You swear now?”

“Learning from the best. I could’ve said fuck.”

“I can count on maybe four fingers the number of times you’ve said fuck.”

“Only if you’re allowed to count multiple times as one, because I’m very sure I was begging you to, er, do that, that time. And I said it more than once. About now, and the question
all right, yes, I can hear it now. I didn’t even think about it. About how I
thought about it. Except I’m not sure I do. Or I didn’t mean to. Like George and the flowers.”

Jason clearly spent a couple of seconds working this out, and then said, “Because he doesn’t actually mean the complaining? Oh. Okay. Because the way he says it isn’t what he actually means. It’s what he’s used to.”

“Yes. And
it’s even fun for him, I think.”

“Got it. But you don’t need to apologize.”

“That one’s more of a work in progress, I’m afraid.” He leaned in, leaned weight against Jason; felt those massive protective arms go around him. Head on Jason’s shoulder, he added, “Let me try that first question again, then. Would you like it, and that’s me honestly asking because I want to know, so, would you like it if I took your name?”

Jason made a small considering rumbling sound, a shift of earth under sun and shade. Colby snuck a hand up under the clinging shirt just to touch heated skin and fabulous muscle.

Jason said, slowly, not as if hesitant but as if he’d not thought much about it, “It doesn’t really matter to me, I think?”

Colby, surprised, realized his fingers had stopped exploring Jason’s abs, at the first words.

“I don’t mean it doesn’t matter!” Jason had plainly also noticed the cessation of motion. “You can touch me, baby, touch me anywhere you want. Go on. I mean
I don’t know. I guess I feel like
it’s not up to me. It’s your name. And I don’t need you to do that. It really doesn’t
I think what I’m trying to say is, I know you love me. And I love you. And we’ll be married. No matter what our names are.”

“I know,” Colby agreed. “All of that.”

“So I guess it doesn’t matter to me, but
not in a bad way?” Jason let out a breath, wry about himself or his next thought or both. “Hell, I’ll change mine if you want. You’ve already got four names, and one of them’s Algernon.”

Meet Kristin

K.L. Noone teaches college students about superheroes and Shakespeare by day, and writes romance – frequently paranormal or with fantasy elements, usually LGBTQ, and always with happy endings – when not grading papers or researching medieval outlaw life. She lives with the Awesome Husband and a large black cat named Merlyn, who demands treats on a regular basis.

Twitter : Instagram : Blog (I’ve utterly failed at actually updating the book list on here, but the blog gets updated!) : Facebook : Amazon author page : JMS Books author page

#SampleSunday… The Quid Pro Quo

The Quid Pro Quo cover, A. L. Lester

I’m jumping on the #SampleSunday hashtag on twitter this week, with an excerpt from The Quid Pro Quo for you…

The Quid Pro Quo is a romantic historical paranormal murder-mystery set in 1920s rural England where nearly everyone is queer and the main couple is m/transm. Think Agatha Christie, but queer! With monsters! It’s the sequel to The Fog of War, but it works as a standalone set in the Border Magic universe.

Simon pressed the heel of his hand down onto the place the pain was radiating from. That usually helped. He sometimes wondered if there was anything still left in there. He should probably get it looked at. X-rayed, they called it, didn’t they? The hospital in Taunton had a machine, he knew.
He sighed. “Look, I didn’t just come up to show off my weaknesses to you.”
Kennett made a harrumphing sound that could have been a laugh. 
“I came to ask about two things. Her alibi. And the way she describes what happened at the seance.” 
“Look,” Kennett drew a breath and said in a firm voice, “she didn’t do it.”
Simon glared up at him, not quite ready to get up off the bench and fall over into the other man’s arms again. “That’s all very well. But you can’t just say that and then tell me you can’t say why you know!”
Kennett screwed up his face. “I just can’t, Mr Frost. And that’s all there is to it.”
Simon managed to stand. For all Kennett was small, he was intimidating. He scowled furiously up at Simon, face creased with anger. There was no trace of the sardonic wit about him now.
“Was she with you that night?” Simon asked quietly. It seemed unlikely, a girl like Miss Hall-Bridges and Kennett, who was a good twenty years older than her if he was a day and a lowly ex-soldier to boot. But he’d seen stranger relationships.
Kennett choked. “Bloody hell, no!” he said, almost with a shudder. “Absolutely definitely the wrong tree, Detective Frost!” There! He did return Simon’s interest, else Simon was a Dutchman.
Simon took another wobbling step forward and Kennett stepped back. Simon finally felt as if he was getting somewhere. There was something there. Why were they all protecting the woman? It was clear she was the best suspect—on paper, she had reason. But it was also clear that despite the evidence, nobody thought she’d done it. Including Simon.
Not that a lot of other people didn’t have reason to dislike the victim as well by the sound of it. His take-away from speaking to people who knew her painted a picture of the deceased as an entitled, arrogant woman who expected people to jump to her tune. He stopped that train of thought. There was never a reason to kill anyone. Never. Just because most of the people he knew had spent the last few years seeing that as the solution to all their problems didn’t mean it was right.
He drew a breath. “Then point me toward the right tree for goodness sake! If you have evidence that it wasn’t her, you’re morally obliged to let me have it!” he said, finally after a moment of silence.
Kennett shook his head again. “No, Detective Frost. I can’t. It’s not my place.”
Simon eyed him narrowly. He was backed up against the wall of the hallway, calm and not at all intimidated by Simon’s greater height.
“Do you know who killed her?” Simon asked him. 
Kennett’s eyes flicked away and back again. He shook his head. “No. I don’t.” He knew something though. He finally sighed and stepped forward, putting him chest to chest with Simon and Simon had no alternative but to step to one side and let him past unless he wanted to make something of it. And he didn’t. He really didn’t. He moved aside.
Simon was left looking after him as he went down the hall to the kitchen, the door propped open against the building heat of the day. He followed him into the room, watching him fill the kettle and put it on, helplessly standing there with his hands fisted in frustration at his sides, hot with irritation in the warmth of the morning and the lit range. 
“We’re done here,” Kennett said, sliding the kettle onto the hotplate and turning to face him. “You should leave, before Dr Marks gets home.”
“What, so you can sort out an alibi for Miss Hall-Bridges between you?” Simon said snarkily.
There was quite a long pause and then, from behind him, Dr Marks’ voice, deep and calm and very, very flat said, “No need, Detective Frost. Lucy and I share a bed. She didn’t go anywhere, all night.”
The silence was as absolute as if a shell had gone off and deafened him.
`

Holly Day: The Book Dragon’s Lair

Hi! Thank you, Ally, for allowing me to swing by đŸ„° I’m Holly Day, and for those who don’t know me, I write stories to celebrate all those crazy holidays out there.

This month, we’re celebrating Bookstore Romance Day, so I wrote The Book Dragon’s Lair, and I had so much fun with it. I turned it into a dragon tale since books and bookshops made me think of book dragons, and, so… yeah, dragons 😆

It takes place in a town called Edge since it’s right on the edge of the portal leading to the dragon realm. There are a few dragons who have chosen to live among the humans instead of on the other side of the veil, and they’re all living on Dragon Row. Dragons be dragons, they’re trading for things they can put in their treasure caves.

Egil is human and believes he’s mated to Draken the Dreadful and forever trapped in an abusive relationship. He isn’t, though. This isn’t a fated mate story, so everyone has a choice in who they mate with, well everyone but Egil who was forced to accept Draken.

When a dragon finds someone they want to spend the rest of their lives with, they share the breath of life. All Egil knows is that dragons, when bonded, stay together forever. He doesn’t realise he isn’t bonded, and he has never heard of the breath of life.

When Draken is called away to fight in a war on the other side of the veil, no one is happier than Egil, but then word of Draken being injured and on his way back reaches him, and he considers running away.

How do you hide from a dragon?

The dragon stepping into the bookshop isn’t Draken. He claims to be, but Egil knows his mate, and the one standing before him is not Draken the Dreadful.

Ryu the Ravenous wants nothing more than to escape his responsibilities in the dragon realm and spend the rest of his days among the humans. When Draken and Ryu are attacked during guard duty, Ryu is injured, and Draken is killed. Ryu seizes the opportunity and pretends to be Draken. He lets his family believe he was the one who died, and by pretending to be Draken, he’s allowed into the human realm and back to his (Draken’s) mate.

Convincing Egil he is Draken isn’t as easy as he’d first believed. And he’s heard the humans had the magic beverage called coffee, but it turns out to be a bitter drink and not magical at all – this is fiction, people! We all know coffee is magical 😆

The Book Dragon’s Lair

The Book Dragon's Lair, Holly Day

Egil Olsen is running The Book Dragon’s Lair, a bookstore on Dragon Row, while Draken the Dreadful, his mate, is away fighting a war on the other side of the veil. The relief of not having Draken around is great. For the first time in years, Egil doesn’t have to watch every move he makes. When word reaches him that Draken is on his way home after having been injured, he considers running away.

The dragon stepping over the threshold to The Book Dragon’s Lair isn’t Draken, though. He claims to be, but Egil knows his mate, and while all dragons are dangerous, the male standing before him is nowhere near as cruel as his mate. Ryu never wanted to be a book dragon. Books don’t sparkle, but if it’s the price he has to pay to be in the human realm, he will pay it. He’ll take over Draken the Dreadful’s treasure, and he hopes he can take over his mate, too. Egil doesn’t want to be mated to a dragon, but without a mate, he’d be homeless and without a job.

A few hours after having met Ryu, Egil thinks being mated to him might not be too bad, but how will they be able to fool the people around them into believing Ryu is Draken? And what will happen if the real Draken comes back?

Gay paranormal romance: 33,671 words

JMS Books : Amazon : All the others!

Excerpt:

Ryu watched Egil interact with the customers. When he’d come down after having disposed of the vile drink he’d heard so much good about—so far, the human realm was a disappointment—Egil had been gone. A few minutes later, he’d come in through the front door with an expression on his face Ryu couldn’t decipher.
He muttered about having checked something out in the pawnshop, then he’d gone to work. Ryu wasn’t sure what he did, but he fiddled through papers, stacked some books, and when someone came into the store, he helped them find what they were looking for.
Draken should have expressed more pride when talking about him. He worked hard and little by little the stack of paper notes increased in the machine on the counter. It was fascinating to watch.
Ryu quickly divided the customers into two categories—those who came inside wide-eyed and looked around until they spotted Ryu, and those who came inside to sneer at Egil.
One female was so rude, Ryu growled. She jumped at the sound and stared at him. Ryu would’ve bet the tip of his tail she hadn’t noticed he was in the room before then.
When the clock finally showed six o’clock in the evening, Egil turned the sign hanging on the door and locked it.
“All done?” Ryu was starving, but he didn’t know what to eat here. He’d only had the coffee, and it had put him off human food a bit.
“Yes, I only need to close out the cash register.”
Ryu had no idea what it meant. “And then we eat?”
“Ah
 yeah
 we don’t have any food other than toast. I need to shop and we’ll need a new phone since you
 erm
 broke the old one.”
Nodding, Ryu watched him press some buttons, only to have the machine print another paper note. There were so many notes on this side of the veil.
“I can hunt for something we can eat.” His mouth watered as he imagined meat roasting over an open fire.
Egil stared at him. “What?”
“Hunt. Don’t you hunt?”
Shaking his head, Egil emptied the machine on paper notes and held them out to Ryu. Hesitantly, he took them. “What am I to do with them?”
“They’re yours. Put them in the safe.”
He fished out the key he’d taken off Draken from his pocket. “In the treasure cave?”
Egil pushed his palms against the counter and looked at him. “Who are you?”
“Draken the—”
“You’re not Draken, not the real Draken.”
“Ryu the Ravenous.”
Egil blew out a shuddering breath. “Okay, Ryu the Ravenous, what are you doing here, and how did you come over Draken’s key? He’s gonna kill us both.”
Ryu snorted. As if Draken could’ve killed him if he’d been alive. He was a sad excuse for a dragon.
Egil continued to stare. “Are you related to him?”
Ryu scowled. Related to Draken the Dreadful? Luckily, Draken’s mother hadn’t hatched more than one egg. There was talk about her laying another one, but maybe she should refrain considering how the first one came out. “I’m Ryu the Ravenous, my skin is close to onyx, and I know those who live on the Sapphire Mountains.”
Egil’s eyes widened more, and Ryu feared those gemstones would fall out of his skull.
“Do you mean no? Draken won’t kill us?”
Ryu puffed smoke in frustration.
“Don’t set the books on fire! If you need to burn something, go outside.”
Need to burn? No one ever needed to burn anything. Fire was a weapon and a tool, not something you needed to use.
“It’s a no. Draken the Dreadful was a dreadful excuse for a dragon. I’m close to royal.”
Egil blinked and Ryu was glad to see his eyelids still could close around the huge eyes. “You’re royal?”
“Close to.”
Egil gripped the edge of the counter so hard his knuckles turned white. “This is bad.”
“No, it’s not. I had a huge treasure cave on the other side of the veil.” And many who wanted to be his mate. Why didn’t Egil want to be his mate? He was close to royal and while he hadn’t had the opportunity to add anything to his treasure on this side of the veil yet, he would. He hadn’t looked, hadn’t unlocked the grid doors on the second and third floor. He didn’t understand books—he understood written text, but not the worth of books—and he was a little afraid to have a look.
“Why are you here, then?” It wasn’t more than a whisper, but Ryu heard him.
“I’ve claimed Draken’s treasure.”
“You didn’t claim it. You pretended to be him.” Then those topaz eyes widened again. “If the reverend finds out
”
“I’ll eat the reverend. I’ve never had human, but right now I’m hungry enough to eat anything, and he annoys me.”
Egil made a sound. At first, Ryu feared he was crying. It sounded like a sob and his shoulders shook, but then a laugh spilled out. It wasn’t joyous though, more on the verge of sobs. Maybe he was hungry, too. Hunger could turn anyone unstable.
“Let’s have this toast you’re talking about.” He believed it was something humans did from grains. He read, he wasn’t a complete imbecile, but right now he didn’t trust anything he’d learned. Coffee was supposed to be magical, and it hadn’t been.

JMS Books : Amazon : All the others!

About Holly Day

According to Holly Day, no day should go by uncelebrated and all of them deserve a story. If she’ll have the time to write them remains to be seen. She lives in rural Sweden with a husband, four children, more pets than most, and wouldn’t last a day without coffee.

Holly gets up at the crack of dawn most days of the week to write gay romance stories. She believes in equality in fiction and in real life. Diversity matters. Representation matters. Visibility matters. We can change the world one story at the time.

Connect with Holly on social media:

Website :: Facebook :: Twitter :: Pinterest :: BookBub :: Goodreads :: Newsletter

Interview: Meredith Spies

Today we welcome Meredith Spies to the blog to talk about their new release Between the Lines and answer intrusive questions!

Hi Meredith! Firstly…why are you doing this interview?

I have a new book out, Between the Lines. It is my first contemporary MM romance (I usually write PNR and urban fantasy).  Between the Lines is about two former high school sweethearts, Wendell and Davis, who split on not-great terms right after high school, but both return to their small hometown in Texas twelve years later. They are drawn in to solving a century old mystery, the whereabouts of two men with connections to Wendell and Davis’ families. There are two love stories: the historical one, and the modern one, woven throughout the book.

What started you writing?

I’ve always loved writing (which isn’t an original answer, I know!) but really got into the idea of doing it for other people to read in college with *drum roll * fanfic. I realized “wait, I can write what I want to see, and other people will like it too?” That led to me writing some short stories that were published in now-defunct ‘zines, and delving into writing urban fantasy/romance. I started writing queer-centered romances and queer-centered stories because I was tired of seeing people like me and my friends and chosen family being used as props for the cishetero heroes, or used as an “object lesson” or a sad story, or being coded as villain just because the characters were queer. Stumbling into the world of queer romance first as a reader then as a writer has been amazing and life-changing on many levels!

Where do you write?

Usually sitting on my bed! It’s not the best logistically, but I’m comfortable! I really should use my desk more though


What do you like to read?

A little bit of everything. Queer romances and stories, mostly,especially mysteries, fantasy, and horror. I also enjoy histories (a recent favorite has been The Five about the victims of Jack the Ripper and their actual stories, not just the sensationalized ones we’re all familiar with).

What are the three books you’d take to a desert island? Why would you choose them?

Oh, that’s impossible to answer thoroughly! I feel bad leaving any of my favorites out and I know as soon as I answer, I’ll want to change it because I thought of more, or different ones! My arm twisted, and pretending this question means I’ll just be reading to pass the time while a boat comes to pick me up and I’m not going to need books about surviving on a desert island long-term or building a boat out of palm fronds and crab shells, at this very second I’d pick Widdershins by Jordan L. Hawk, I’ll Be Gone in the Dark by Michelle McNamara, and Pretty Pretty Boys by Gregory Ashe.

Writing is an intrinsically solo occupation. Do you belong to any groups or associations, either online or in the ‘real’ world? How does that work for you?

I’m part of some online writers’ groups (mostly cozy Discord situations) but none in “real life,” especially while things are still fraught in my area due to the pandemic. I’ve tried, in the past ,going to in-person groups and write-ins and the like but I don’t do well with writing in those situations. Online’s a bit better and I do enjoy the supportive atmosphere, but I tend to stick to just going it solo.

What do you like to do when you’re not writing?

Reading a lot, watching movies and series on streaming, letting my kid teach me new computer games
 I used to perform burlesque but disability finally caught up with me so now I appreciate it the shows as an audience member. Can’t wait till it’s safe to go out to them again!

Tell me a little bit about your most recent release. What gave you the idea for it? How long did it take to write? What did you enjoy about writing it? What did you hate?

 I love old letters and pictures. I have so many of them in this special chest that come from family members going back a century or two, things that were kept because they were important, and a lot that are things that got “accidentally” kept—grocery lists or a quick note to so and so about something, nothing monumental, just bits and pieces of lives on paper. Pictures that were posed, some blurry old ones, some that are strange to modern eyes (like the pictures of the dead, propped up with still-living relatives, which was a not uncommon practice in the mid to late 1800s in some places). Every once in a while, I come across a story online about someone who found pictures at a resale shop, or some old laters or even old cassette tapes and they want to know who  they came from, what was the story behind them, why are they just for sale to strangers now.  It bubbled around in my thoughts, this love of my old letters and pictures and these stories from the people who find the bits and bobs of other lives for sale in the world, and the idea for Between the Lines started to take shape. Old letters between two men, notes to one’s sister, a postcard without an address
 And Wendell, intrepid reporter that he is,  came into being to start figuring out the mystery. And Davis popped along for the ride. Joseph and Martin, the men in the story who went missing a century ago, were waiting in the letters as I wrote them (an early version of the story included the letters between them and the other bits and pieces, and I might be putting those in a newsletter this summer
).

I think the thing I loved most about writing this story was not only getting to bring in pieces of history to a modern story but I was able to work through some of my own thoughts and feelings on being a queer person from a not-queer-friendly place. Between the Lines took about three months, start to finish, including editing passes. It was a story that flowed quickly when I started writing it, and I think a lot of that is down to how much I’d dwelled on the idea of it and imagined it before ever sitting down to write it all out.

Between the Lines

Between the Lines by Meredith Spies. Cover

Breaking News! 

Reporter Wendell McCandless Jr is returning home to Dumbarton, Texas to cover the annual Alameda Family Thanksgiving Picnic and Baseball Tournament. But rumor has it that’s not all he’s after. 

Letters belonging to the late Joseph Alameda were found at Wendell McCandless Senior’s junk shop, and they may hold clues to solving a century-old mystery—the disappearance of Joseph Alameda and Martin Bright!

Two men vanished without a trace. 

Both families involved believing the other was to blame. 

Gossip in town is that Wendell won’t be delving into the matter alone. Davis Alameda is determined to clear his family name by helping to unravel the mystery. Readers, you may remember that sparks flew between the two young men before they both left town a few years back. Can they put their resentments from the past aside and find the answers they seek? Or are we about to see a fireworks display that will put a Dumbarton July fourth celebration to shame? 

Buy Between the Lines

Find Meredith

Meredith likes to write about sexy stuff, weird stuff, and sometimes weird stuff doing sexy stuff. Originally from Texas, they live elsewhere now with their family and two cats who think they are gods (in fact, they’re pretty sure of it). Meredith writes queer-centered romances in various subgenres including paranormal, speculative fiction/alternate universe, and contemporary. They firmly believe in happily ever afters and pineapple always belongs on pizza.

For sneak peeks at upcoming works and other goodies, check out Meredith’s website and social media.

website : facebook group : twitter : facebook page : instagram

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