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Pivot Move by Chris Boucher

January 26, 2021 By Leave a Comment


Pivot Move by Chris Boucher
Publisher: Wings ePress
Genre: Young Adult (14 – 18 y.o.), Contemporary
Rating: 3.5 Stars
Reviewed by Astilbe

At 14, Boyd’s life goes the way of his hair–down the drain. His dad leaves and his curly brown mop follows. Now he longs to be free, too.

Things seem to improve when he starts ballin’ with the Blazers. He works hard to win over his new coach and teammates–too hard–and his misguided attempts alienate more than they impress.

Shatavari is an herb that is known to be the best medicine so far for solving the purpose of erectile dysfunction from a person life. order viagra online in stock You may have peace of mind whilst visiting or getting together with strangers. the best viagra They are been affected by http://amerikabulteni.com/2011/10/12/dancing-with-the-stars-dorduncu-haftada-kim-elendi/ purchase of levitra many sexual problems. Children who are underweight Aged pfizer online viagra individuals. Maybe he’d be better off running away like his dad–or can he find another way to pivot?

As Freidrich Nietzsche says, “no one can construct for you the bridge upon which precisely you must cross the stream of life, no one but you yourself alone.” Remember these words as you read this review and book.

Boyd genuinely felt like a young teenager to me. His mind and body were changing rapidly in ways he couldn’t always predict, much less understand. This was especially true when it came to his reaction to the alopecia he’d developed fairly recently. Sometimes I shook my head at the impulsive decisions he made, but they were all common things not only for his age group but for his personality in general as it had been explained to me.

I would have liked to see more attention paid to the character development in this novel. As interesting as the characters were, it would have been nice to get to know them better and see them evolve as a result of the things that happened to them. This was especially true when it came to Boyd’s mother who was a pretty critical and discouraging parent. She put down her son’s interests so often that I wished the narrator had dug into this part of her personality much more thoroughly. There was a lot of space here to explore why she behaved this way and how she thought it was going to improve an already tough situation.

The basketball scenes were explained well. This wasn’t a sport I know much about, so it was helpful to go into as much detail about the various drills and moves the players were expected to learn as it did. I also appreciated the passages that described how and why the relationships between team mates can change in an instant depending on what happens during practice or games.

Basketball fans and anyone who has or is curious about alopecia, take note of Pivot Move. It has interesting things to say about both of these topics.

Filed Under: Reviews, YA/Middle Grade/Children's Tagged With: , , , ,

Chasing the Spark by Kori Blue – Spotlight and Giveaway

January 25, 2021 By Leave a Comment

Long and Short Reviews welcomes Kori Blue who is celebrating the recent release of the first book in the Between Lovers series, Chasing the Spark. Enter at the end of the post for a gift pack and a Kori Blue book.

It’s Valentine’s Day, and Nina’s loving Master has a kinky surprise for her. The gift of a violet wand is shocking, but the sparks will soon fly.

Nina can’t wait to spend the Valentine’s Day weekend with Trey, her Master. He’s a perfect, loving boyfriend and the ideal kinky match for a submissive like Nina. He’s also a world away from the bad Doms she’s dated in the past, but when Trey gifts her a violet wand, she’s surprised…and daunted.

The thought of electroplay scares Nina, yet she yearns to give herself completely. Can she learn to trust her Master enough to let him push her limits?

Luckily for Nina, Trey’s ready to show her just what pleasure awaits. Over a Valentine’s Day weekend of romantic, steamy kink, the couple explore their new toy, and Nina comes to realize just how much she can learn from the sparks her Master creates between them.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Valentine’s Day was a Friday, and it wasn’t much different from most others. As usual, Nina left work at 5:28 and walked down to the parking lot of Volkmann Industries with a couple of her colleagues. After a day cooped up in the beige-and-gray tedium of the office, it was a welcome chance to blow off some steam, and their laughter danced against the concrete walls of the building they were only too glad to leave behind for the weekend.

“Are you sure you guys don’t want to come with me?” Jazmine wheedled one more time. “C’mon. It’ll be fun. We’ll go to that Thai-Japanese place on Lakeview, hit the dinner buffet…they have à la carte makimono and a martini bar, remember? Perfect. Comfort food while we get wasted and talk about how this stupid holiday is a meaningless corporate invention designed to suck everybody’s wallet dry through the soulless application of guilt, greed and—”

“And eventually someone will take you home,” Arielle cut in, “because it’s two in the morning and you’re wandering around Riverfront Park, rambling drunkenly about how you’re one more bad date away from deciding to become a reclusive cat lady. You know, when you say it that way, it does sound like a pretty lit start to the V-Day weekend.”

Nina laughed and shook her head as Jazmine clutched their friend’s arm.

“Yes! You understand! Come on, Ari. You said you didn’t even want to go on that stupid blind date thing anyway. I’m depending on you. Nina’s let me down. Nina has plans.”

A cold breeze rippled across the icy asphalt, causing them to pick up their pace as they headed for their cars.

“Shit, it’s cold,” Nina murmured, rooting through her purse for her keys. She flashed Jazmine a smile. “Hey, Nina already apologized, so don’t blame me! I’d come if I could, girl. Promise.”

The black ends of crushed winter leaves and tire-shorn dirty slush fringed the lot, and the sky looked heavy and gray, promising more wintry weather to come. It was a sight almost as depressing as her friend’s dejected grimace.

“I know you would,” Jazmine admitted, shaking off the pout she was pulling for laughs, “and, seriously, you guys know I don’t really wanna make you feel bad for having fun without me, right?”

“We know,” Nina assured her, as Arielle hugged Jaz’s arm. “And we don’t feel bad at all. Not even a little tiny bit!”

Nina giggled and poked out her tongue, and Jazmine wrinkled her nose.

“Nice. Really nice, Nina. Oh, man… You know, it just sucks when plans change at the last minute. That’s all I’m saying.”

Nina slowed her steps a little so she could give her friend an affectionate bump on the shoulder.

“We know that too,” she said, glancing at Arielle, past Jazmine’s puffy, wind-tousled curls. “And it’s not your fault Jamie was an asshole. Look at it this way, at least you dodged the bullet early.”

Jazmine snorted. “Yeah, and I dodged a nice dinner, maybe a gift and some good dick too. Not that I was in it just for that, but—”

“Sure,” Arielle teased. “Sure you weren’t.”

“I wasn’t! The first couple times we hung out, he seemed really cool. I liked him. I mean, it wasn’t serious. It’s not like I was naming our imaginary cats or anything.”

“Cats?” Nina laughed.

“Cats, kids…whatever.” Jaz shrugged. “I’m just saying, it was super early, but he seemed nice. Not the type of person who’d blow somebody off by text, like a complete fucking asshole, three hours before a goddamn date. On Valentine’s Day, no goddamn less. Dude didn’t owe me anything, sure, but come on.”

“Asshole,” Arielle agreed, patting Jaz’s hand.

“I know, right? I guess I should have been like a fuckin’ lawyer and had the ‘but what are we?’ talk early enough that I could have made other plans. Nobody’s going to be free now.”

“Oh, of course they are,” Arielle said breezily. “If it’s that important, get out your phone, pick some random guy on some random app, and—”

“Yaaaay.” Jaz fluttered her fingers in the air, her face mournful. “Desperation! It’s, like, my favorite perfume. Nah, I don’t think so. It’d be too weird. See, this is what I hate about this time of year. So much pressure, and so much bullshit. You know? It brings out the worst in people. Like Black Friday, but for sex.”

Nina’s fingers closed around her keys. Her gray Kia Rio was parked a little closer than Arielle’s old blue Civic, and she felt guilty for how eager she was to climb into her car and head off to her own Valentine’s Day weekend.

Jazmine could joke and insist as much as she wanted that she hadn’t been that invested, and maybe it was even true. All the same, Nina was far too familiar with the sour, bruising crush of rejection to take her friend’s protests at face value, and guilt eased its way into the pit of her stomach.

“You know,” she said doubtfully, the keys jangling in her hand, “I could always call Trey and reschedule. I mean, there’s the whole weekend, and—”

“Don’t you dare!” Jazmine batted at her wrist. “I’m messing with you. Well, mostly. I’m pissed, sure, but I don’t want to drag you down with me. You’ve got your night planned, and the last thing I wanna do is take you away from Mr. Dreamypants. Just, I don’t know, think of me when—well, no. Don’t, actually. Don’t think of me when he’s got your legs up around—”

“Jaz!” Nina warned as they both broke into another peal of giggles.

“Look,” Arielle said, pulling her phone from her pocket, “why don’t I ask Meghan if this blind date girl has a friend?”

“Uh…wait. I’m disillusioned, but I’m not ready to give up dudes entirely,” Jazmine protested, a hint of surprised laughter coloring her words.

“Oh, shh.” Arielle was already texting. “You don’t have to. Anyway, who knows? She probably knows some guys. We’ll find out. Maybe the four of us could go to dinner, just have fun. No expectations, no big deal. Then I don’t have to be a flake and break plans, and you don’t have to be miserable, drinking alone with your cats. Plus, if either of our dates is creepy, we can escape together. Sound fair?”

The effect once starts, remains published here buy viagra in stores up to 6 hours. sildenafil generic canada Take Kamagra sitting at your home and spend the most pleasurable time of their life without the cult leader is unthinkable. In other words, pills are generally recognized as male impotence and identified cialis super active when a man loses potency of keeping or achieving firm erection for a longer period and especially during the sexual intercourse activity. The worldwide recognition is from its record as well as from the fact that it becomes difficult to overcome the core factor involved in causing the ED. it’s in such cases that cialis tab is a more viable and economically convenient solution. Jazmine pursed her lips. “I guess… But what about your blind date? She was expecting an actual date. I don’t want to fuck that up for somebody.”

“Eh.” Arielle wrinkled her nose. “If she hasn’t got enough compassion to accommodate my poor, heartbroken friend—”

“Hey!”

“Then she and I don’t have a future. Same goes for if she’s not down for a sashimi special and sake.”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

Nina laughed along with the two of them, almost missing the single life that she’d had a few months ago. “I wish I could come with,” she said, even as the wistfulness tapered away. “I really do.”

“No, screw you!” Jazmine taunted playfully. “Find your own lesbian. Anyway, fuck off, Nina. You’re going to have an amazing weekend with your amazing boyfriend. You bitch.”

Arielle glanced up from her phone. “How is Trey, anyway?”

They were almost at Nina’s car. Tiny flakes of snow began to fall, melting onto the slushy ground. Nina bit her lip.

“He’s good. Been busy, y’ know. The whole pre-tax-day rush starts soon, so he’s got a bunch of new clients who think they’re ahead of the game. I think he could use some time off. We’re going out for a meal tonight, and then—”

“Yeah, yeah. We all know what you’re doing later.”

“Shut up, Jaz,” Arielle said, in gentle admonishment.

Nina just grinned.

Her friends had no idea about the details of her sex life with Trey—or the nature of their relationship at all, come to that—and she much preferred it that way. She had no real desire to explain to them that she was the kind of girl who got wet only when she was on her knees.

Nina doubted they would really have been shocked. Hell, pretty much everyone had dabbled in a little kink at least once. However, she was into more than just a casual spanking and a rough blowjob or two. Nina’s world lit up in the moments she saw approval in the eyes of the man she called Master and, more than anything, she cherished the hard journey it took to get there.

She wasn’t ashamed, but she didn’t want to answer the kind of questions Jazmine would ask if she found out about it. Nor did she really want that part of her life open to prying eyes. It was hers, and his. Special, secret…maybe even sacred, in some kind of way.

It was her own private universe, and she couldn’t wait to get back to it.

“Have fun, though,” Jazmine said, dropping the playacting. “Seriously. Don’t worry about me.”

“I won’t,” Nina promised, leaning in to give them both quick goodbye hugs. “Lemme know how it goes, okay? Both of you. I hope it’s awesome.”

Arielle winked at her, the cold wind whipping at her dark hair. “It will be. We’ll make it awesome. Have a great weekend and say hi to Trey for me. We should all go out again sometime. He’s cool.”

“Yeah, he is,” Nina admitted shyly. “Text me?”

“Promise,” Arielle agreed.

“Promise,” Jazmine said, and ripped off a mock salute. “And give Trey’s ass a squeeze for me or something, ’kay?”

“Yeah, sure.” Nina snickered. “Enjoy yourselves, ladies.”

Arielle waved the hand she wasn’t using to text with, and they both peeled off to her Civic, with Jazmine chattering about the prospect of an all-she-could-eat Japanese dinner, overpriced cocktails and a buttload of sake.

Nina unlocked her Rio then grabbed the scraper from the passenger side footwell so she could brush the thin dusting of snow off the roof and windshield. She couldn’t help smiling to herself as she worked, listening to the receding voices of her friends echo against the asphalt.

It felt good to know Jazmine wasn’t going to spend the evening alone, and it was a relief—albeit perhaps a selfish one—for Nina to know she wasn’t going to be distracted from her plans by the sickly tug of guilt or shame.

She’d been looking forward to this for far too long to have anything go wrong, or impinge on her time with worries and distractions. Maybe that was silly. It was just a day, but then so was any holiday, and there was nothing wrong with wanting to make it special.

Maybe Jaz did have a point, and Valentine’s Day was kind of a hustle. All the commercial bullshit, the overpriced flowers and candy, the two-dimensional depictions of love in pink or red heart shapes… It didn’t even scratch the surface of what something between two people could be. And yet, here Nina was, ready to put her all into the occasion, loving the chance to use it as a fun, candy-coated excuse for something special.

Oh, she definitely had plans.

About the Author:

Kori Blue writes adult romance with an edge. In her stories, you’ll find sharp, sassy women who know what they want… and strong, sexy men who’ve got just what they need.

Kori’s stories often involve some kinky fun, and explorations of fantasies from the sinfully sweet to the downright dark and dirty. From the intimate stories of couples in Kori’s Between Lovers series to the daring exploits of a call girl-turned-madam in the Midnight Candy books, and the dark, twisted tales of passion and obsession in Juniper Lake, a Kori Blue book is guaranteed to pull you into a world of intrigue and intensity, with characters you’ll love, and heat you’ll never forget!

First for Romance Author Page | Website | Series Page

Buy the book at your favorite venue or First for Romance.

KORI BLUE IS GIVING AWAY THIS FABULOUS PRIZE TO ONE LUCKY WINNER. ENTER HERE FOR YOUR CHANCE TO WIN A LOVELY GIFT PACKAGE AND GRAB YOUR FREE KORI BLUE ROMANCE BOOK! Notice: This competition ends on 26th January 2021 at 5pm GMT. Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.

Filed Under: Erotic Romance, Guest Blogs Tagged With: ,

Song for a Cowboy by Sasha Summers – Spotlight and Giveaway

January 22, 2021 By Leave a Comment

Long and Short Reviews welcomes Sasha Summers who is celebrating the upcoming release of Song for a Cowboy, book two in her Kings of Country series. Enter the Rafflecopter for a chance to win a copy of book one in the series, Jace.

Country star Emmy Lou King is singing the blues…

Emmy Lou King’s whole family is legendary in country music. When she lands the opportunity to sing the American Football League anthem and serve on one of the AFL’s anti-drug charities, she’s sure she can handle working with Brock Watson even though she’s barely recovered from their breakup—and she’s never loved anyone else.

Brock Watson is feeling the pressure. From dealing with his father’s declining health, keeping their ranch running, staying in game-ready shape, and his dedication to the charity that changed his life, there’s no time for anything else. Emmy Lou included. After six years, he’d like to think she couldn’t mess with his head anymore. But one look, one smile—and he knows she’s as dangerous as ever. He can’t resist her—he never could.

The more time Emmy Lou spends with Brock, the harder it is for them to keep their distance.

Enjoy an Excerpt

“Open, dammit!” Emmy Lou pushed the button again, smacking the pink-and-white polka-dot umbrella against her thigh. It still wouldn’t open. The sky rumbled overhead.

“Ooh, language, Emmy.” Her twin sister, Krystal, laughed. “Next you’ll be saying shit or ass or fu—”

“No, I won’t.” Emmy spoke into the mic on the earbuds she had plugged into her left ear, her sister still laughing. “But this might be a little easier if I wasn’t FaceTiming you right now.” Umbrella in one hand, phone in the other, she started walking.

Krystal held her phone closer, flipping her lower lip for a full-on pout. “But I miss you.”
“I miss you, too,” Emmy said, blinking raindrops from her lashes. “Enough to walk through a parking lot, in the rain, with an umbrella that won’t open, and keep talking to you.” She kept pressing the button on the handle, but it didn’t help. Of course, the rain was falling faster now, big, pelting drops.

“Where is Sawyer? Why isn’t our bulky, scowling bodyguard carrying a massive bulletproof umbrella over your head?” There was a hint of accusation in her sister’s voice.

“Be nice to Sawyer.” Emmy wiped the rain from her eyes. “He is picking up Travis down the road—because our brother ran out of gas.” She sighed, clicking the button on her umbrella again. “And I’m getting soaked because this thing is broken. I should hang up.” Emmy laughed, peering at the stadium through the rain. Rain that was getting heavier and faster.

“But you won’t.” Krystal leaned forward. “Then again…you are starting to look like a wet rat. Walk faster.”

Emmy stuck her tongue out at her sister, her steps quickening. She was sort of jogging now, weaving around the parked cars.

The squeal of brakes had her jumping a good ten feet in the air. A truck, going way too fast in a parking lot—in a torrential downpour—skidded to a stop mere inches from where she stood. It happened too fast for her to move. Too fast to do anything but curl in on herself, dropping her umbrella and holding her other hand, and phone, out to protect herself. Which, considering the vehicle was massive and she was not, didn’t make any sense but… it was instinctual. She braced herself on the truck hood, her knees knocking so hard there was a high likelihood she’d collapse onto the slick concrete at any moment.

“Holy shit,” Krystal was saying, the phone now facedown on the hood. “Emmy! Emmy? Can you hear me? Are you okay? Answer me.”

She could have been hit… Almost was. But wasn’t. Emmy flipped the phone over. “Here.” But she was gasping for breath. Her heart pumped madly, reaching what had to be the maximum beats per minute. “Fine.”

She was vaguely aware of the truck’s driver’s-side door opening wide, followed by rapid footsteps splashing in newly formed puddles. But she was still grappling with the whole near-death experience and couldn’t process the arrival of her almost assailant.

“Where is the driver? Are they getting out? Hold your phone up,” Krystal growled. “I want to see what this asshole has to say about nearly running you over.”

“Are you okay?” said the mountain of a man heading her way.

“I’m fine,” she answered, rubbing water from her eyes. Her hand shook. Her voice shook. But she was okay.

“You didn’t see me coming?” he asked, stepping closer. “My truck?”

“Seriously, Emmy Lou, hold up the phone,” Krystal snapped. “You couldn’t see her? In her bright-yellow-and-pink, daisy-covered raincoat. Because, honestly, she might as well be wrapped, head-to-toe, in reflective tape. Asshole.”

“Krystal,” Emmy whispered into the mic hanging from her earpiece.

“Hold up the phone. You might need a witness.” Krystal sighed. “Emmy Lou, I’m serious.”

Emmy held up the phone, unable to stop trembling.

The man came around the hood of the truck and stopped. His eyes widened and his mouth opened, but he didn’t say anything. Shock probably. Complete and total shock. Not just because he’d almost turned her into a smudge in the stadium parking lot, but because he was who he was and she was who she was and they were standing face-to-face…staring, at each other, in the rain…
“Brock?” Krystal sounded just as stunned. “Is that Brock? Is that you?”

No, there was no way that was possible. Emmy was not equipped for this. Not right now. Not in the least. She should be; it had been years. Years. This shouldn’t be a big deal. Seeing him, that is. Being almost run over by him—by anyone—was sort of a big deal.

“Hey.” Brock nodded, barely glancing at Emmy’s phone and Krystal. His gaze was pinned on her.
“I’m…” Her voice broke. She was what? “I…” No better. Just stop. Pull it together. This was silly. “Hi.” She forced a smile. “So…” She could do this. Talk. Breathe. In and out. Easier said than done.

His mouth opened, then closed and the muscle in his jaw clenched tight. The staring continued. He just stood there, rigid, wearing an odd expression on his face. A face that, all weirdness and near-death experiences aside, she knew well. All too well.

Adrenaline was kicking in now. Enough to get her moving, anyway. And that’s exactly what she was going to do. Move. Away. The sooner the better. “Okay.” She hung up her phone, shoved it into her pocket, and started walking—do not run—toward the stadium door. No looking back. Just moving forward.

Did she almost slip? Yes. Did she go down? No. Had she managed to save a shred of dignity? Probably not. She pulled the door wide, stopping just inside to scan the signs and arrows for the bathroom. Her phone started ringing. She didn’t have to look at it to know it was Krystal. She waited until she’d closed and locked the door on the family restroom before she answered.
“Emmy?” Krystal asked. “Are you okay?”

“I didn’t get hit—”

“I know, I know but…it was Brock.”

Yes. Brock. She shrugged out of her raincoat and sat in the chair placed next to the diaper-changing station. Her pulse was still way too fast, and her stomach was all twisted up. “I know.” Sitting wasn’t good. She stood, smoothing her pale blue blouse and staring down at her jeans. Her raincoat had left a perfect line midthigh. Above the line, slightly damp. Below the line, saturated. She wiggled her toes in her rainboots, water squishing.

“This sucks.” Krystal cleared her throat. “I wish I were there.”

“I do, too.” She stared at her reflection. “But I know what you’d do if you were here.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“You’d remind me that I already spent too many years and too many tears on him.” Which was true. Their breakup—rather, his sudden and complete disappearance from her life—had almost broken her. She’d cried until she was sick, and Krystal knew it, too. Krystal was the one who pushed her to get up, to keep going, every day. Krystal was the one who told her it was okay to be angry with him for deserting her without a word. And when Emmy Lou was more herself, Krystal had turned all the tears and sadness and anger into their double-platinum single “Your Loss.” “And you’d be right.”

“True.” Krystal paused. “But after I was done telling you all that, I’d get up in his face and chew him out for almost running you over. And that’s just to start.”

***

Excerpted from Song for a Cowboy by Sasha Summers. © 2021 by Sasha Summers. Used with permission of the publisher, Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc. All rights reserved.

About the Author: SASHA SUMMERS has written more than 20 romance novels and novellas. Now a best-selling and award winning-author, Sasha continues to fall a little in love with each hero she writes. Sasha lives with her amazing and supportive family and her beloved grumpy cat in the suburbs of the Texas Hill country.

Website

Buy the book at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks, Kobo, BookShop, BAM, or your favorite venue.

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Plenty of Fish in the Sicilian Sea by Stefania Hartley – Spotlight and Giveaway

January 22, 2021 By Leave a Comment

Long and Short Reviews welcomes Stefania Hartley, author of the upcoming release Plenty of Fish in the Sicilian Sea. Enter to win a fabulous gift package and a FREE Stefania Hartley romance book!

Sicilian marine biologist Serena Ingotta has never understood men, but when she uncovers a mafia factory polluting the sea, it only adds to the things that confuse her.

Twenty-four-year-old Sicilian scientist Serena Ingotta has always misunderstood men, from her workaholic anti-mafia judge father to the Catholic seminarian she’s hopelessly in love with. Interning in a marine biology lab alongside her irritating colleague Enrico, she discovers an illegal polluting factory that is possibly connected with the mafia.

When it turns out that their boss is going to cover up the story, she publicly denounces him at a science conference and gets expelled from the lab. Alone and ostracized, Serena’s attempts to find love and expose the factory seem to be failing epically until she finally realizes that everything she has been searching for was just under her nose.

Reader advisory: This book contains instances of minors with firearms.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Serena jangled the lab keys inside her bag and smiled. The cheerful clink told her that, even without a salary, a job description or a coat peg, she belonged there. The sound echoed in the silent corridor. There was no tapping of wooden soles, no irritated voices, no whispered gossip at that time in the morning. There was just her, the pickled coelacanths and the embalmed, startled pufferfish to greet her through the glass cabinets.

She stuck the key into the lab door and tried to turn it, but it was already unlocked. Strange… I’m usually the first in. As she opened the door, she found the tall green shutters gaping open and a gust of wind slammed the windows shut with a tinkling of glass.

“Hi, Sery!”

“Enrico?” He was perched on his stool, hunched over the wooden workbench with his grubby lab coat unbuttoned, as attractive as the Hunchback of Notre Dame. He straightened, turned toward her and blinked as if he were only just waking up. He usually turned up around ten o’clock. “How come you’re here so early?”

“Just to spook you. No, not really. I just suddenly thought, Shit, we have to finish our research by the end of the week, and I freaked out. Are you freaked out too?”

“A bit. Mostly about your sudden interest in our work. I thought I’d never get any help from you.”

He smiled. “I’m here to the rescue, baby.” He thrust a fist in the air, and Serena groaned inwardly. He was even wearing a Superman T-shirt.

She took off her motorbike helmet and put it down on the floor under the coat pegs. “Maybe we’ll get our own pegs after the conference.”

He shook his head. Coat pegs were for staff, not unpaid interns. “I wouldn’t hold my breath, Sery. We’re out of filter paper and we can’t order more until next year’s funding arrives. I don’t think either of us is getting a job here anytime soon.”

“Hold on. If we’re out of filter paper, what are you using for filtering?” she asked, pointing to the funnel dripping a red liquid into a conical flask on their workbench.

“Hand towels.” He grinned.

She clutched her head. “You can’t do that! No wonder our results—”

“Just joking.” He grinned, winking. “I’ve cut the discs in half so we have enough. If you pour carefully, they do the job just fine.”

“Please, don’t make a joke like that again. Not now.” They only had until Friday to persuade their boss to submit their research to the upcoming Marine Biology Conference. If they presented their research at the conference, they could put it on their CVs and maybe they’d get a research bursary or—if dreams ever came true—a permanent research position. Two years of unpaid work in Schettino’s lab would not have been in vain. “Right. Let’s get to work.”

By the time Giovanna and Titti arrived after dropping their kids off at school, Serena and Enrico had dissected the fish samples, isolated the gill tissues and filtered the extracts. Giovanna and Titti were research associates—with coat pegs, name badges and monthly salaries—but they were too nice for Serena to wish that they accidentally cut their own heads off while dissecting a fish so that she could have their jobs.

“Cornetti to see us through today,” Giovanna announced, putting down a parcel wrapped with the paper from the café downstairs on a nearby bench. The heavenly buttery scent of the Italian croissants temporarily flushed the smell of the fish samples from the room. Yes, Giovanna is definitely too lovely to hate.

“Shall we have a break?” Enrico suggested hopefully.

“I want to see the spectrophotometer’s results first, but you can,” Serena said.

Enrico hesitated but picked up a cuvette with fish juice instead of a cornetto with custard and walked over to the spectrophotometer in the far corner of the room. Enrico called out the machine’s readings and Serena entered them into her laptop.

“How are things going here?” Professor Schettino suddenly appeared behind them. The boss never arrived before eleven o’clock. He must be early because of the conference deadline.

“We’re getting together the last results,” Enrico said confidently.

“Great. I want to see all your results by lunchtime.”

“Sure.”

After that deadline was issued, the cornetti weren’t mentioned anymore.

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They looked at each other. “Almost!” Enrico called back.

It was a very early ‘lunchtime’ for Italy. They entered the last few results into their table and clicked on the button that would create a curve of best fit. But what came out was not a curve by any standard.

“I’ve calibrated the machine three times!” Enrico protested, waving his arm in the air.

“I don’t think our results are wrong. The repeats are very close to each other.”

“Then why does our data make no sense?”

“It does make sense. Negative results disprove the hypothesis.”

Enrico twisted his mouth. “Negative results aren’t exciting enough to be presented at a conference.”

“Schettino will agree that science doesn’t have to be sensational. Come… Let’s show him.” She got up with her laptop and marched to Schettino’s office-cave. Enrico followed her. “Here are our results,” she announced, putting her laptop down on their boss’ desk, which was scattered with printouts crossed through and scribbled on in red pen. Enrico stopped on the threshold and leaned against the door jamb.

Schettino adjusted his reading glasses, put down the red pen and looked intently at the graph. “Ah,” he said, pushing his wheelie chair back and dropping his glasses to look intently at Serena.

Serena waited for a more comprehensive comment, possibly with some indication of his appreciation.

“So, what’s your conclusion?” he asked, shrugging.

“That there’s no correlation between heavy metal concentration in fish and distance from the shore.”

Enrico stepped into the room. “We’ve calibrated the instruments before every batch of measurements, we’ve repeated each reading at least three times and…we’ve worn gloves.”

“Uhm”—Schettino pursed his lips—“perhaps you need to plot against depth instead of distance from the shore.”

“Why? What’s wrong with our results as they are?” This was not how she had imagined the conversation would go.

“Not impressive enough to go to a conference. The selection committee won’t give you even a five-minute slot to present it. Nobody is interested in you having an idea and proving that it was wrong, Serena. I don’t care what you plot your results against, so long as you find a correlation of some sort. Otherwise, I won’t submit your work to the conference. It’s as simple as that.” He stood up, which made him a lot taller than her—but not Enrico.

“But the submission deadline is on Friday,” Enrico protested.

“You don’t have to come to this conference. There’ll be many others.”

But we’ve worked for two years with the promise of being allowed to submit to this conference.

“We’ll turn the research around by Friday.”

Schettino smiled. “I’m looking forward to seeing it.”

About the Author: Stefania Hartley, also known as The Sicilian Mama, was born in Sicily and immediately started growing, but not very much. She left her sunny island after falling head over heels in love with an Englishman, and she’s lived all over the world with him and their three children.

Having finally learnt English, she enjoyed it so much that she started writing stories and nobody has been able to stop her since. She loves to write about hot and sunny places like her native Sicily, and she especially likes it when people fall in love.

Her short stories have been longlisted, commended and won prizes. Plenty of Fish in the Sicilian Sea is her second novel, after Sun, Stars and Limoncello.

You can find out more about Stefania on her website, and on the Sicilian Mama’s Blog. You can also listen to Stefania’s podcast.

Website | Sicilian Mama’s Blog | Podcast | Goodreads | First Romance Author Page

Buy the book at your favorite venue or First for Romance Author Page.

STEFANIA HARTLEY IS GIVING AWAY THIS FABULOUS PRIZE TO ONE LUCKY WINNER. ENTER HERE FOR YOUR CHANCE TO WIN A LOVELY GIFT PACKAGE AND GRAB YOUR FREE STEFANIA HARTLEY ROMANCE BOOK! Notice: This competition ends on 26th January 2021 at 5pm GMT. Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.

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Night Song by E.D. Parr

January 15, 2021 By Leave a Comment


Night Song by E.D. Parr
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Genre: Contemporary, Erotic Romance, LGBTQ
Rating: 4 stars
Reviewed by Fern

Twenty-five year old Oliver Honeycutt has no idea how handsome he is. He’s creative, brilliant at his job, and underused in the designer fashion store where he works. Behind the scenes, Oliver takes special care with orders for customer, rock star, Zane Highwood. When Zane is to be the main attraction in the store’s Christmas fashion show, Oliver hopes Zane will notice him.

Multi-millionaire, Noah Somersby, made his first million before he was twenty-one and now owns a number of casual-chic menswear stores. He’s a designer and desperate to find a man who will love him for himself and not see dollar signs as they kiss.

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In fact, Noah is super attracted to Oliver and Oliver thinks Noah is gorgeous.

As the store holiday party approaches, can serendipity bring them together?

Oliver loves his job in the stock room of a trendy shop that caters to rock stars. Lonely and still quite deeply in the closet Oliver wishes flirting and meeting people came easily to him but it doesn’t. Noah had seen Oliver a number of times on the early express train and while Noah had tried to give him a few come hither glances he finally decided to introduce himself to Oliver. When they meet by chance at Oliver’s work Christmas party can the turn their fledgling flirting from the train and make something more stable of it?

I really enjoyed this slow-paced and romantic holiday romance. I loved the buildup between Oliver and Noah – the fact they didn’t just eye each other off in the train, fall instantly in lust and jump into bed. Oliver was shy and very lonely and Noah might have been successful in his career but he wanted to be liked for himself and not his bank balance. I was pleased that each man was realistic, relatable and the author gave me enough time to get to know them both independently to want them to come together and see how they could form a relationship together.

I felt the conflict in the story was a little cliched but enough of the surrounding sub-plot, who Oliver and Noah both really were and their deep and genuine attraction to each other, managed to carry the story through this roughness. Readers looking for a fresh or unique story-line won’t find that here, but I was really pleased both Oliver and Noah’s characters were interesting and relatable. The sex between the two men was equal parts tender and hot, and I was really impressed that the author didn’t rush to have them jump into bed or fall in insta-lust.

With a good pace, strong characters and a lovely Christmassy setting this story had a lot going for it and overall I really enjoyed it.

Filed Under: Erotic Romance, Reviews Tagged With: , , , , ,

Teddy’s Truth by KD Ellis – Spotlight and Giveaway

January 15, 2021 By Leave a Comment

Long and Short Reviews welcomes KD Ellis who is celebrating the recent release of her new book Teddy’s Truth, the first book in the Out in Austin series. Enter to win a fabulous Goody Bag and a $5.00 First For Romance Gift Code!

Teddy De Luca thought being born into the wrong body was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. Then he met Julian…

All Teddy De Luca wants is for his outside to match his inside—so badly that he takes a loan from a Mexican cartel. It’s not like he can borrow the money from his alcoholic mother. She got him into this mess in the first place when she poured his savings into bottles of Jack. He figures he’ll get his operation, pick up a second job, then pay the debt off quickly and put it all behind him. When the cartel raises the stakes, his plan falls apart and he’s left with a mounting debt and no way out.

Ian Romero is a second generation Hispanic-American whose only goal is to live the American dream—finish college, find the perfect partner and settle down. His inappropriate crush on his brother’s best friend isn’t going to stop him. But when his troubled brother becomes another victim of the local cartel, his plans change. He can’t save his brother, but he can get his revenge.

After years apart, Teddy’s and Ian’s paths cross again, neither expecting the passion between them to re-ignite even hotter than before. Can Ian forgive Teddy’s role in his brother’s death to become the Daddy the younger man needs—or is their relationship destined to fail again?

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence, rape, and a live burial. There are BDSM elements including Daddy kink and mild power play. There are scenes of loan-sharking, blackmail, torture, public sex, parental neglect and domestic violence.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Teddy tugged at the hem of his overlarge sweatshirt then discreetly scratched beneath the band of his sticky sports bra. As far as he was concerned, breasts were disgusting lumps of fat that hoarded sweat, bounced like painful beanbags on his chest when he was busy catching a football and strained the front of any button-down he tried to wear. He couldn’t understand why boys were so obsessed with them. He personally couldn’t wait to get the damn things cut off.

Hormone therapy had deepened his voice and given him a shadow of patchy fuzz on his jaw. Clippers had sheared him of his blond hair and his mother’s Italian heritage had blessed him with broad shoulders and narrow hips.

It was unfortunate that it had also cursed him with breasts that not even puberty blockers had been able to thwart.

He wished he could blame her awful time-management skills on their heritage as well, but he knew better. The fault lay with either Jack or John—the bottle or the boyfriend, whichever she was currently in bed with.

He’d been sitting on the hard, concrete steps of the high school for almost an hour. It wasn’t like he could call her. His cell was out of minutes, and hers was probably dead on the nightstand.

Just as the final school bus trundled back onto the parking lot and Teddy was about to give up on waiting, someone stepped up beside him, casting him in shadow.

“Stay there,” Teddy ordered, craning his head back until he could grin at his best friend. “Perfect. Be my sun block.”

Shiloh, still in his leotard, laughed and nudged Teddy’s hip with his shoe. “If you don’t think I shine brighter than the sun, then clearly I’m not wearing enough glitter.”

“Shine as bright as you want, but just keep standing there. Fuck, it’s hot!” Teddy gripped his collar and tugged at it repeatedly, trying to stir a breeze. All it ended up doing was wafting the stench of boob sweat up into his face.

“Well, duh, it’s ninety degrees—and you’re in a sweater.” Shiloh rolled his eyes and dropped onto the curb beside him. “And it’s not even pink.”

Teddy opened his mouth, his usual response dancing on his tongue—that boys don’t wear pink—but he swallowed it. Shiloh was currently in a hot pink leotard and pink Chucks.

Instead, Teddy shrugged and glared down at his baggy jeans and boring blue sweater. “You know why.” It was hard enough getting people to call him Teddy instead of Thea. Or, worse, Theodora.

“I’m going to make you a shirt. It’s going to be pink and fabulous. It’s going to say, ‘Call Me Teddy’. And it’s going to be in glitter.” Shiloh threw an imaginary handful into the air, then fell back to lie on the sidewalk, his arms flung out.

“With your handwriting, they’d probably think you wrote ‘Daddy’.” Teddy dropped back to use Shiloh’s arm as a pillow.

Shiloh shifted but didn’t pull away. He just rolled onto his side, his blond hair flopping into his eyes. He left his arm beneath Teddy’s head, bringing their faces close enough that their noses nearly touched. “It’s not that bad. Besides, you’re clearly not a Daddy.”

Teddy rolled his eyes. Ever since he’d borrowed Shiloh’s laptop to finish up his college application essays—and forgotten to clear his search history after falling down the rabbit hole of kinky porn—Shiloh’s teasing had been less than subtle. Teddy refused to be embarrassed, though, especially since the only reason he’d stumbled onto that website in the first place was because Shiloh had left three separate bookmarks for it.

It reinforced everything Teddy knew about their relationship. They were destined to be the bestest of friends—but nothing more. They were both too attracted to the same type of man—tall, dark and dangerous.

Still, knowing his friend was into the same kinks that he was didn’t mean they needed to talk about it. He ignored the leading comment and switched back to the far safer topic of handwriting. “Remember when Mr. Carmine thought you wrote an essay on Storage Wars?”

“Hey, Mr. Carmine also thought you wrote an essay about Quasimodo.”

“I did write him an essay about Quasimodo. Well, really about how the novel by Victor Hugo helped raise the money needed to restore the cathedral, and—” Teddy felt the beginnings of a spiel on gothic architecture creeping up.

Shiloh interrupted, “Yeah, buttresses…a rose window. I remember. I still think the gargoyles are creepy.”

“You said buttresses,” Teddy snickered, shoving Shiloh’s shoulder.
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“Teddy, can I touch your buttress?”

“Your hand can stay far away from my buttress, fuck you very much.”

“It’s like a butt fortress. I just want to invade your buttress! Why are you so mean to me?” Shiloh rolled onto his back and kicked his feet against the sidewalk like an angry toddler, except for the smile on his face.

“No, it’s impregnable!” Teddy stuck out his tongue.

“Well, duh, you’re a boy. Of course you’re impregnable.”

“Something tells me you don’t know what that word means.”

Immediately, Shiloh rattled off the definition. “Impregnable. Unable to be captured or broken into. Also, unable to be defeated or destroyed. But you have to admit that it sounds an awful lot like it means you can’t make babies.”

“And thank God for that,” Teddy shivered at the thought of being responsible for a little, squalling, helpless baby. “I might miss wearing pink, but I won’t miss that.”

Teddy froze at the accidental admission. His therapist had told him that it was normal, that gender was a spectrum and that just because he still liked feminine things didn’t make his desire to transition less valid. Still, it was the first time he’d admitted it to anyone except his therapist.

Shiloh sat up slightly to face him better. “You can still wear pink. You can wear whatever the fuck you want.” Shiloh’s voice hardened. “And if anyone bothers you about it, I’ll cover their lockers in gay porn. Just say the word.”

“The poor football players won’t know what to do with themselves. Think of all the spontaneous erections.” The few he’d dated had been far more interested in his ass than a straight guy probably should be—not that he’d obliged, since he refused to be anyone’s dirty little secret.

Shiloh sighed. “It would be a beautiful gift to all of us.”

A black Mercedes pulled up to the curb, barely parking before the driver was leaning on the horn.

“Impatient bastard,” Shiloh grumbled. “I don’t know why he’s in a hurry. He gets paid by the hour.”

“Well, that stick is so far up his ass it has to be uncomfortable sitting down.” Teddy sat up and straightened his sweatshirt. The Becketts’ driver was a homophobic dick. He didn’t understand how the man hadn’t been fired yet.

Shiloh pushed himself to his feet. “I bet he has hemorrhoids. That’s probably where he rushes off to every night.”

“Ew. You picture him rubbing cream on his ass?” Teddy teased.

Shiloh gagged, shoving Teddy to the side. “Gross. You’re such a dick. I don’t know why I hang out with you.”

“Because you love me.”

The Mercedes blared its horn again, a demanding series of honks that only ended when Shiloh threw a hand up in acknowledgment. “I gotta go. Do you have a ride?”

Teddy shrugged. “Yeah. She must just be running late or something. I’m sure she’ll be here soon.” He knew she wouldn’t be, but he’d rather walk than listen to the driver sling slurs. He didn’t understand how Shiloh dealt with it.

Shiloh hesitated on the bottom step, looking like he wanted to say something, but all he did was give a small nod and say, “Okay. See you Monday?”

“Yeah, see you.”

About the Author: KD Ellis is a professional cat wrangler by day and an author by night. She moved from a small town to an even smaller village to live with her husband and wife and their two children. She loves reading—anything with men loving men. She writes queer romance in between working her two jobs and cuddling her pets—all six of them, which confuses the turtle.

First for Romance Author Page | Goodreads

Buy the book at your favorite venue or First for Romance.

KD ELLIS IS GIVING AWAY THIS FABULOUS PRIZE TO ONE LUCKY WINNER. ENTER HERE FOR YOUR CHANCE TO WIN THIS FABULOUS GOODY BAG AND A $5.00 FIRST FOR ROMANCE GIFT CODE! Notice: This competition ends on 20th January 2021 at 5pm GMT. Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group. https://upvir.al/109222/lp109222

Filed Under: Erotic Romance, Guest Blogs Tagged With: ,

Captured in Paint by Ann M. Miller – Spotlight and Giveaway

January 13, 2021 By Leave a Comment


Long and Short Reviews welcomes Ann M. Miller who is celebrating yesterday’s release of her debut novel Captured in Paint. Enter to win a fabulous Goody Bag and a $5.00 First For Romance Gift Code!

Paintings can stir emotions, but for Julia, emotions bring paintings to life…literally.

Ice Princess.

That’s what the kids at St Peter’s High call seventeen-year-old Julia Parsons, the girl who doesn’t show emotion. But that all changes when Julia loses the protection of her late mother’s charmed necklace, and the emotions that have been locked deep inside her are unleashed. Now, after years of priding herself on being calm, cool and collected, Julia is forced to accept two life-altering revelations—she can feel just as deeply as any other teen and her emotions can make paintings come alive.

As Julia struggles to control her ability, she discovers that her boyfriend, Nick, is trapped inside a mural that she herself created. She enters the wintry world to save him before it’s painted over but quickly realises that a mysterious force is keeping Nick tethered to the work of art.

Unless Julia can learn how to harness the power of her new and unfamiliar emotions, they won’t make it out of the painting alive.

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of underage characters drinking and using strong language, as well as a brief reference to smoking.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Luke Mercer’s eyes latched onto mine as he strode into history class. I looked down quickly, but I could still feel his gaze. It wasn’t like the sympathetic and curious looks my other classmates gave me. At least they had the decency to seem embarrassed when I caught them glancing my way. Luke had been watching me with cool disdain, his blue eyes never wavering.

He paused as he passed by my desk. I kept my eyes on my notebook, willing him to sit down.

“Please take your seat, Luke,” Ms. Davis said.

He uttered a low, sarcastic laugh and slid into a desk in the next row over.

Luke had transferred from Westdale Collegiate to St. Peter’s High for grade twelve, but it was mid-September and he’d only started attending classes two days earlier. People were saying it was because he’d just gotten out of juvie.

I hunched over my notebook, intent on ignoring him. As I doodled with my right hand, the fingers of my left automatically lifted to touch the silver chain that always hung around my neck. My fingertips only grazed bare skin.

Letting out a sharp gasp, I fumbled with my collar, but I still couldn’t feel the chain. I dropped my pen and frantically ran both hands over the front of my shirt, hoping my locket had just fallen off and got snagged in the material. It hadn’t.

I bent over and searched my backpack. It wasn’t there, either.

Somewhere between home and school, I’d lost the locket. How could I not have noticed? It was one of the few things I had left that tied me to my mother, and now it was gone—maybe forever, just like her. As the thought crossed my mind, my chest tightened in a way it never had before, squeezing until I felt like I was going to explode. A lump rose in my throat, and I was struck by the overwhelming urge to cry.

I never cried. I’d always been good at keeping my emotions in check. Even in the days and weeks following the fire, I hadn’t shed a tear. It was like this wall of numbness surrounded me, keeping me from really feeling.

Now, with the discovery of the missing locket, that wall had come crashing down.

With my heart thumping wildly against my ribcage, I barely noticed when Principal Tobin came on the PA. For a couple of minutes, his voice sounded far away as he read through a list of announcements. But then his tone changed, taking on a sombre note that made me sit up a little straighter. “And now I have a very important piece of news to cap off today’s announcements. As you all know, we lost one of our students this past summer. Nicholas Allen was a bright, motivated young man who was honoured with a Young Humanitarian Award for his fundraising campaign for victims of the Alberta floods. He also…”

No! I screamed in my head. Don’t talk about him.

But, of course, Mr. Tobin couldn’t hear my silent plea. He kept talking about my dead boyfriend, listing his achievements like a proud father.

Suddenly I couldn’t breathe. Something was lodged in my windpipe, cutting off all my air.

“And now,” the principal continued, “Nicholas’ parents are collaborating with the Red Cross to set up a scholarship fund in his memory. If you would like more information, you can contact…”

I’d known about the scholarship because Mrs. Allen had called to tell me about it before school had started. But I had not been expecting to hear about it over the PA today. Hadn’t been expecting Nick’s name to be boomed out across the school just as I was trying to keep it together in the wake of losing my locket. Talk about a double whammy.

I needed the wall again, needed to build it back up and use it as a buffer against the flood of emotions. But the pieces of that wall lay at my feet, and I didn’t know how to put them back together.

I couldn’t ignore the images of Nick that popped into my head—tall, lean, handsome Nick with the crooked smile and caramel-brown eyes that could send butterflies skittering through my stomach, even after two years of dating. But I would never see that smile again. He was gone, just like my mother. Just like the locket.

Stop it, I commanded myself, desperate to put an end to the chain of despondent thoughts. You can beat this.

My mother had taught me some techniques to use if my emotions started to run rampant—simple things like taking slow, deep breaths, counting to ten or recalling a happy memory…affirmations. I’d never had to use any of them…until now.

I took a series of deep breaths and hoped that I would find my equilibrium.

But the deep sadness and regret only grew, pouring over me in waves as Nick’s face floated in my mind’s eye.

My face grew warm. The walls of the classroom were closing in on me. I desperately wished I was somewhere else, somewhere I could be alone, where I could breathe in lungfuls of fresh air.

An image of a field of poppies began to take shape in my mind. I didn’t have time to wonder where it had come from because a wave of dizziness struck me.

Black spots flitted across my vision, and the classroom began to spin.

I closed my eyes.

“Are you all right, Julia?”

The concerned voice of my history teacher reached me through the dizziness. When I opened my eyes, the spinning sensation stopped as suddenly as it had begun. My racing heart started to slow as I fixed my eyes on Ms. Davis. I took another deep breath, and this time I was able to push back the grief that had nearly consumed me.

“I’m fine, Ms. Davis,” I said. My voice was loud and clear, but my hands were shaking. I wasn’t sure what was worse—the fact that the layer of numbness had been peeled back, exposing my emotions…or feeling like I was going to faint. What was wrong with me today?

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They could wonder all they wanted, though. I wasn’t talking about it.

“Quiet, please,” Ms. Davis said.

She waited for the whispers to die down then cleared her throat. “Today we’re going to start by talking about the St. Peter’s Mining Disaster of 1938. Does anyone know what happened?”

“It was a methane gas explosion, right?” Tina Myers answered. “It killed most of the miners.”

“That’s right. And what was the significance of the disaster?”

“Uh, a lot of people died?” piped up Ron Freeman, the school’s track-and-field star. He was swift on the track but not so much in the classroom.

Laughter rang through the room. Ms. Davis sighed. “Other than that, Mr. Freeman. What was the significance of the event in terms of a historical context?”

Emily Saunders shot her hand up.

“Yes, Emily.”

“It meant the end of the iron ore industry in St. Peter’s.”

“Exactly. After that—”

“Actually,” Scott Reese cut in, “I think the real significance is that the survivors went nuts.”

There was a collective groan from the class.

“Come on, you guys. You all know the stories. They saw some pretty crazy things as they ran out of the mine.”

Emily tossed her red hair. “They were probably delusional.”

Ron scratched his head thoughtfully. “They were all delusional? I don’t know, Em. I kinda think the stories might be true.”

“Yeah,” Scott said with a smirk. “Stories about miners disappearing in a cloud of dust—and not because of the explosion.”

“Stories about someone using freaky magic down in the mines!” someone else chimed in.

Ms. Davis held up a hand. “All right, that’s enough. Let’s stick with the facts, please.”

I listened to the exchange without participating. It wasn’t like I didn’t have anything to say about the mining disaster. After all, my own grandfather—who’d died before I was born—had survived the explosion. And according to Mom, he’d always insisted the rumours about unexplained phenomena were just that—rumours. I could have contributed this information, but the last thing I wanted to do was prolong a debate about death and tragedy. I was dealing with enough of that in my own life.

Still feeling a bit unsteady, I shifted in my seat. As I did so, my elbow struck my pen and knocked it to the floor.

I twisted in my seat to retrieve it, but the girl who sat in the desk behind me had already scooped it up. She handed it to me with a sympathetic smile. I murmured my thanks and was about to turn around.

That’s when I noticed Luke watching me from the next row, three desks down. His ice-blue eyes locked onto mine again. Hi, Julia, he mouthed.

I frowned at him. He smiled, but his eyes remained cool. I faced forward, anger bubbling in my chest as I focused on my notebook again. Soon the page in front of me was covered with the same line, written over and over in small, neat letters.

Stay in control.

The bell rang, signalling the end of class. I stood, stuffed my notebook in my backpack and hurried from the classroom. In the hallway, I pushed through a throng of students, anxious to get to my locker.

“Jules!” My best friend, Roxy Butler, hurried up and threw her arms around me.

“Hey, Rox.” As she gave me a squeeze, some of my tension fell away.

“A bunch of us are going to Tony’s for lunch. Please say you’ll come with.”

I shook my head, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. “I can’t. I’ve got some stuff to do.”

About the AuthorAnn Miller writes young adult novels about first loves, family secrets, and magic. She grew up in Nova Scotia, Canada, where the local bookmobile fed her diet of Nancy Drew mysteries, Sweet Valley High books, and Stephen King horror. After graduating from the University of King’s College, she moved to Newfoundland, an island that makes up for its unforgiving climate with beautiful coastlines and majestic icebergs.

When she’s not reading or writing, Ann can be found spending time with her husband and son, or binge watching Netflix while curled up with the two four-legged members of her family.

Captured in Paint is her first novel, and she has several more in the works.

First For Romance Author Page | Website | Goodreads

Buy the book at your favorite venue or First for Romance.

ANN M. MILLER IS GIVING AWAY THIS FABULOUS PRIZE TO ONE LUCKY WINNER. ENTER HERE FOR YOUR CHANCE TO WIN A LOVELY GOODIE BAG AND A $5.00 FIRST FOR ROMANCE GIFT CODE! Notice: This competition ends on 20th January 2021 at 5pm GMT. Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group. Ann M. Miller’s Captured in Paint – https://upvir.al/109209/lp109209

Filed Under: Guest Blogs, YA/Middle Grade/Children's Tagged With: ,

Baking with Banshees by Xenia Melzer – Guest Blog

January 5, 2021 By Leave a Comment

Long and Short Reviews welcomes Xenia Melzer who is celebrating today’s release of Demon’s Wish, the first book in her Demon’s Mate series.

Baking with Banshees

I’m a huge fan of Douglas Adams’ Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy and when I was confronted with the chance to create a little homage to the Guide, I simply couldn’t resist. In the world of Demon’s Mates exists a book called The Guide to Successful and Satisfying Sex with a Paranormal. The reference to Douglas Adams is rather obvious but that wasn’t the only reason I introduced the book to the plot. As an avid reader of paranormal stories of all flavors I often think how handy a book explaining everything about sex with paranormals would be for the characters and so, when Sammy from Demon’s Wish decides he wants to go all the way with his demonic boyfriend, he turns to the Guide, trusting it will help him with his endeavor. Of course I’m not going to elaborate on what the book says about sex with a demon – the screen would go up in smoke, for one – but the chapter about Banshees can be safely released without corrupting younger readers and giving older readers ideas for the bedroom that could send them to the orthopedist. Here’s what the Guide has to say about Banshees:

You don’t have sex with Banshees. They are asexual. In fact, there’s many things you don’t want to have or do with Banshees. You don’t want to hear their scream – unless you feel ready to leave this plain of existence. You don’t want to take fashion advice from them – unless you’re ready to learn about the finer details of practically every kind of cloth on the planet. In comparison, hearing their scream seems like mercy. You don’t want to get into a discussion about hair dye with them – unless you’re prepared to get your hair dyed a different color every week for the next few months of forever. You don’t want to talk gender with them – unless you enjoy getting your head ripped off. And you never ever under no circumstances want to bake with them. For clarification of this vital point and to emphasize how much you don’t want to share a kitchen with a Banshee, we have listed a recipe for muffins and how a Banshee would go about making them.

Mix six medium-sized eggs and 250g of powdered sugar until the mixture is nearly white and has bubbles.
What do they mean, medium-sized? How big can an egg get… Oh, wait, okay, they probably mean not to take ostrich eggs. And I guess emu and cassowary are out as well. No quail or hummingbird eggs either. Too small. So I guess I’ll just take two duck’s eggs, two chicken eggs and isn’t there some powder that is just like eggs only less messy? Now, powdered sugar, what’s powdered sugar? I thought sugar is grainy, like salt. Should I just step on it until it’s more like dust? That’s going to take forever and I don’t have that much time to waste, there’s jewelry to buy and I wanted to try that new dye and why am I bothering with this crap anyway? Okay, let’s see what’s next…

Add 200g of molten chocolate and 200g flour. Mix thoroughly.

Molten chocolate. Molten chocolate. I just put the bars on the radiator. Piece of cake, ha, ha. (Twenty minutes later.) Mmm, strange, not molten yet, I guess I just put it in like that. Ugh, why’s that silvery paper clinging to the chocolate? How do I get it off? (Cursing. A lot of it.) Well, the muffins do look better with a few silver streaks in them anyway, it’s pretty, almost like my rings… Damn, now there’s chocolate all over my rings! (Frantic washing.) Flour. Adding it now, and mixing. There, totally easy. Looks good. Thoroughly mixed, yep.

Put batter in muffin pan, bake in the oven for fifteen minutes at 160 degree.

Batter in pan, check. 160 degree, check. In they go. Let’s see, now it’s quarter past ten, so taking them out at half past. Time to decide what I could wear for shopping today. (Off into the bedroom.)

An hour later: Okay, it’s going to be the yellow skinny jeans with the blue tank top though I guess I have to put in some blue strands in my hair, do I still have blue dye and what’s that strange smell, almost like something’s burning. It’s coming from the kitchen… The kitchen! (Frantic running toward the kitchen, black smoke wafting through the house.)

Damn, forgot all about those. They’re pretty solid now and charred. Let’s see if I can’t scrape the worst off – there, doesn’t look so bad anymore. Where’s the rack, they need to cool off otherwise people will burn their tongues eating them…

This is just a tiny example of what a Banshee is capable of in the kitchen. So don’t go there. Ever.

Finding love is hard—especially when you’re a demon and your potential mate is your sacrifice…
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Sammy is content with running his bookshop and leading a book club consisting solely of paranormal creatures. Despite the persistence of his friends, he has resolved himself to a life without romance, since he doesn’t think anybody could find him and his tendency to spill useless knowledge whenever he gets nervous attractive.

Dresalantion is a demon prince and slightly—make that majorly—annoyed when somebody persistently tries to summon him. He finally decides to show up and put the fear of Dresalantion into his summoners but finds himself rescuing their sacrifice instead.

Sammy intrigues him from the get-go, and when Dre realizes that Sammy can get him the manga he’s been hunting for months—not to mention that he refuses a wish he offered him—the sexy demon decides to get to know this fascinating man better. Much better.

About the Author:Xenia Melzer was born and raised in a small village in the South of Bavaria. As one of nature’s true chocoholics, she’s always in search of the perfect chocolate experience. So far, she’s had about a dozen truly remarkable ones. Despite having been in close proximity to the mountains all her life, she has never understood why so many people think snow sports are fun. There are neither chocolate nor horses involved and it’s cold by definition, so where’s the sense? She does not like beer either and has never been to the Oktoberfest – no quality chocolate there.

Even though her mind is preoccupied with various stories most of the time, Xenia has managed to get through school and university with surprisingly good grades. Right after school she met her one true love who showed her that reality is capable of producing some truly amazing love stories itself.

While she was having her two children, she started writing down the most persistent stories in her head as a way of relieving mommy-related stress symptoms. As it turned out, the stress-relief has now become a source of the same, albeit a positive one.

When she’s not writing, she translates the stories of other authors into German, enjoys riding and running, spending time with her kids, and dancing with her husband.

Website

Buy the book at Amazon, Pride Publishing, or Barnes and Noble.

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Winter Blogfest: Tory Richards

December 25, 2020 By 16 Comments

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a $10 GC from Amazon.  I’m offering everyone who reads this post a free download of my holiday romance A Soldier’s Promise from Smashwords. Coupon code below.

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/927352

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Fond Family Memories at Christmas

It all began on Christmas Eve. Every year my sister and I and our families would go to our parent’s house for my Mom’s traditional spam salad finger sandwiches. I can hear you laugh now but Mom had perfected the spread with mayo, onions and relish and we loved it. There were other goodies there to eat because she cooked for a straight week making pies, and cookies, and homemade bread. But the spam salad sandwiches were a yearly tradition and a must on Christmas Eve. 

Next, we would all gather around the tree in the family room which had mountains of presents for everyone. My dad always played Santa, sitting on the floor by the tree with his red Santa hat on. He would hand the gifts out one at a time. We would all sit back while someone opened their present and when they were done, he would hand out another one. It was a slow process but half the fun was watching everyone open presents and see their expressions on what they received. 

This tradition began when my sister and I were little girls. It continued after we grew up and had our own daughters until our mom passed thirteen years ago. Christmas is quite different for all of us now. My sister moved away, our daughters grew up and have their own thing going on with their families. We don’t get together at Christmas like we used to do, but Thanksgiving is still a family holiday where we do. 
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He’s a soldier home for the holidays, his brother’;s last wish for him to take care of his wife and baby weighing heavily on his mind. Keeping promises are important, but this one will be hard. Ryan has been secretly in love with Shannon for years. Their attraction is hot and consuming, but will they be able to get over the guilt that threatens to keep them apart?

 

 

 

 

 

Tory Richards is an author who writes smut with a plot. Born in Maine, she’s lived most of her life in Florida where she went to school, married, and raised her daughter. She’s retired from Disney and spends her time with family and friends, traveling, and writing.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

Buy the book at Amazon.

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Waiting On A Friend by Megan Slayer

December 18, 2020 By Leave a Comment


Waiting On A Friend by Megan Slayer
Publisher: Changeling Press
Genre: Recent Historical, Erotic Romance, Paranormal, Holiday, LGBTQ
Rating: 3 stars
Reviewed by Fern

King Mason doesn’t want to spend another year alone. He loves his job at the men’s shelter, but there has to be more from life than work. He’s seen the pretty blond man around the community and can’t wait to make a move at the Christmas street party.

Randall Stevens has big plans for Christmas 1980, and all of them involve meeting King Mason. He’s fallen hard for the man, and his wish is to take things to the next level. Christmas Eve just might be the night — except some wishes are meant to go sideways. Can Start Me Up help provide the solution he and King need?

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I enjoyed this Christmassy short story. While a few of the previous couples are mentioned in relation to the potion store Start Me Up this book can totally be read as a stand alone and I had no problems following along with it having not read any of the previous stories. I enjoyed that despite the short length of the story the author gave a fair bit of time at the start to properly introduce King and Randall’s characters, this helped me get a good feel for what they’re like and where they are at in their respective lives so as they slowly became more attached to each other their relationship felt more realistic and understandable to me.

I was pleased the author managed to explain most of the “magic” or paranormal aspect of this story without info-dumping or bogging the pace of the plot down. It was quite unconventional but I enjoyed it and while I feel readers will definitely need to suspend their disbelief – Christmas magic and a bit of “love conquers all” is never a bad thing in a romance story to my mind.

Readers looking for an intensely erotic story might not be satisfied with the two quick sex scenes. Personally I felt the blossoming relationship between King and Randall, as well as the paranormal/magical element to the story and the rest of the plot was more interesting and important than a second or third sex scene between the two men. Especially considering the short length to the story I feel the author managed to balance all these elements really well – but for an “erotic romance” even though the sex was steamy and sensual I could understand if this might not be satisfying for everyone.

Christmassy and full of magic and the first blush of a new relationship I enjoyed this happy and short story.

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