9/01/2015

Cover Reveal: Unbreak Broken by JK Hogan with Giveaway! #malexmale #coverreveal #comingsoon #pridepromotions

Unbreak Broken by JK Hogan
Series: Coming About #3
Release Date: September 16, 2015

Blurb:
Rory Donovan’s life is a hot mess. His marriage is failing and he’s in intensive psychotherapy, working through the unfortunate side effects of memories from a childhood trauma. The only thing good in his life right now is his job—teaching photography to gifted high school students.
Harbor Patrol officer Bennett Foster is co-parenting his teenage daughter with his high school best friend Jessie. When he meets Addison’s teacher and realizes they’ve met before, he can’t get the sexy stranger out of his head.
Striking up a sexual-tension-filled friendship, together they must help an angsty teenager deal with a dying friend. Bennett must keep his little family from falling apart while Rory struggles to come to terms with his new reality. Somewhere along the way, most unexpectedly…love happens.


EXCERPT

Dr. Conlan treated me to a rare fond smile, almost motherly in its warmth. “I’m pleased to see you happier than you have been.”
I grinned back, but then my brow furrowed. “Does this make me gay?”
“Does that matter?”
“I don’t know. Should it?”
“I’ll never understand the fascination with labeling things that our society seems to have. To me, sexuality is as intangible as the universe. There’s no way to truly know what’s out there, and how it all relates to everything else.
“As humans, we seek to know, to understand, and somehow we feel that putting things in boxes and labeling helps us do that. But some things are fluid, changing and developing with the tide of the evolution of life. Do me a favor, Rory. Don’t put yourself in a box.”

I was dumbfounded, stunned speechless. I knew I’d remember Dr. Conlan’s words for the rest of my life, and I would try to stay as true to them as I could. “I won’t,” I whispered.
Pages or Words: 98,000 words

Categories: Contemporary, Fiction, Gay Fiction, M/M Romance, Romance


Buy the book:

Meet J.K. Hogan:
J.K. Hogan has been telling stories for as long as she can remember, beginning with writing cast lists and storylines for her toys growing up. When she finally decided to put pen to paper, magic happened. She is greatly inspired by all kinds of music and often creates a “soundtrack” for her stories as she writes them. J.K. is hoping to one day have a little something for everyone, so she’s branched out from m/f paranormal romance and added m/m contemporary romance. Who knows what’s next?
J.K. resides in North Carolina, where she was born and raised. A true southern girl at heart, she lives in the country with her husband and young son, a cat, and two champion agility dogs. If she isn’t on the agility field, J.K. can often be found chasing waterfalls in the mountains with her husband, or down in front at a blues concert. In addition to writing, she enjoys training and competing in dog sports, spending time with her large southern family, camping, boating and, of course, reading! For more information, please visit www.jkhogan.com.

Where to find J.K. Hogan:
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26118822-unbreak-broken
Publisher: Wild City Press
Cover Artist: J.K. Hogan (KHD Graphics)

Tour Stops:

Rafflecopter Prize: E-book copy of ‘Unbreak Broken’




8/31/2015

Story Orgy Creature Feature: Mum's the Word Part 5 #malexmale #creaturefeature #storyorgy


Good morning friends and readers! Today I have a special post for you- the third episode of my new Story Orgy story! Just one more "catch up" post this week, and I'll be on track next Monday. Now that we've met both Izzy and Owen, it's time to meet the professor.


Mum's the Word
Chapter Five
Aug 31: "Open the box!"

“Well, here we are again.” Owen frowned, staring  glumly into yet another dark, dusty, musty storage room lit by a single dust covered yellow overhead bulb.

Izzy couldn’t blame him. It was their third room of the day, and the fifth one of the week. The museum had turned out to be two floors of dull exhibits, offices and work rooms and two floors of cubicle sized storage rooms, some of which hadn’t seen the light of day in decades.

“I’m sure we’ll find something this time.” Izzy had to fight to keep his voice light. In truth, he’d given up hope on their second day of work, when they’d discovered that Gregoire intended to deal with the files and offices, and expected Owen and Izzy to tackle the storage rooms blind.

“Oh sure, we will. Maybe another collection of squirrel skulls… or a few more mummified rats. We can put together a super exhibit on mammals of the suburbs.” Owen was bitter, and he wasn’t even bothering to hide it anymore.

Izzy rose on his tiptoes to peer over Owen’s shoulder. It didn’t look all that promising, but unlike some of the other rooms they’d been in, this one had shelves, and the shelves were lined with shoebox size containers. He hefted his broom in one hand and a bucket of rags in the other. “Right. Let’s get through it.”

“It’s a lot of boxes.” Owen entered the room and set down his notebook and tablet to pull the first box from the shelf. “This is going to take forever.”

Izzy skimmed the shelves rapidly. “Depends. Don’t know what’s in the boxes. If it’s one artifact per box, it’ll go quick.”

Grunting, Owen tipped the box in his hand toward the light and brushed the dust off it. “It’s labeled.”

“What’s it say?” Izzy crowded up close to his roommate and tried to get a good look. “Is it labelled?”

“Hold your horses.” Owen shook the box, eliciting a muffled thump. “It’s not going to be anything. Maybe a packet of Dear John letters from the Civil War.”

They’d found enough of those types of things to create a dismal exhibit on the futility of war. Not exactly the sort of thing to make donors open their pockets or write big checks.

“Open the box!” Impatience overtook him, and Izzy snatched the box from Owen’s hands and pulled the lid off. He hadn’t been aware of how much hope he’d had, how the organized interior of this room had affected him. It looked like someone with purpose had spent time here, it had held promise that his soul had responded to without his awareness. Not until he saw that bundle of letters wrapped with a faded blue ribbon. “Damn.” He shoved box and lid back at Owen, who took them.

“Yeah.” Owen stared down at the letters, a bitter twist to his lush mouth. “Blue. Bet it’s a Confederate war widow’s collection.” Pink ribbon, red ribbon, plain brown twine, they’d seen it all.

Sighing, Izzy went to the opposite wall and grabbed the first box he saw. “I have to leave in an hour to go trim hedges at the nursing home.” It was a good thing he’d kept the other jobs. He had the feeling that if their searches didn’t come up with something soon Gregoire would have no qualms about firing them.

Gregoire. The man was an enigma. He seemed interested in Izzy. More than once, Izzy had caught him staring… but he was completely impervious to flirting and seemed blind to every overture Izzy had made.

“Better move fast then.” Owen set down the first box and started pulling others from the shelf, stripping the lids off efficiently and revealing the contents. Izzy followed suit with the boxes from his own shelf.

Soon they had two neat lines of boxes ready to be photographed and cataloged. Izzy picked up the notebook and pencil ready to write. Owen adjusted his tablet and zoomed in to photograph the contents of the first box.

Izzy waited. And waited. “What?”

Owen lowered the tablet. “Those letters… look at the postage.”

Izzy picked up the packet gently. Paper this old was fragile. “Egypt?” He sat down, cross-legged on the floor. “World War II, maybe?”

“Maybe…” Owen joined him. “Let’s…” His words trailed off. A single tug released the ribbon. Owen took half the stack of letters and put them on the floor.

“What are we doing?” Izzy held the other half, bemused by Owen’s actions.

“Looking for something that museum patrons would like to see.”

“They’re just letters.” Izzy watched Owen open the first envelope and extract a single sheet of yellow paper, covered with bold strokes of thick black ink, fountain pen no doubt. Definitely more than seventy-five years old.

Unfolding the paper, Owen whistled softly. “1898.” He skimmed the page.

“Egypt in 1898?” Izzy felt a spark of renewed excitement. “Lots of expeditions going on then.” He slid a finger into the first envelope in his stack and withdrew the paper.

“Izzy…”

He glanced up from the spidery script. Owen had sounded… like he had when Izzy gave him his birthday present last February. Cautiously excited. “What is it?”

“This letter is from Harold J. Fordham, Esquire. It’s not to his wife, either. It’s to the museum director, and it’s about donating his collection.”

“Augh.” Izzy dropped the envelope and let his head dip, clenching his fists in his hair. “Another stupid arrowhead collection. Great.” They’d found a whole room full of them, mounted on velvet backgrounds, under glass, dumped in piles in boxes, most unlabeled. Gregoire had declared them all fit only for the gift shop.

“Yeehaw!” Izzy startled as Owen leaned forward, bumping their heads together and stealing a quick kiss. “No.” Owen’s voice shook with his emotion. “He was a scholar… a gentleman. He made six excursions to Cairo.”

“Cairo?” His head snapped up so quickly his neck cracked. “It’s a collection of Egyptian artifacts?”

“I assume so. This letter doesn’t list anything, it’s just an inquiry asking if the museum would be interested in his collection.”

“You think it’s here somewhere?” His heart beat rapidly. They might not have discovered it themselves, but rediscovering it… “If we find it…”

“It would make a great display.” Owen cast a significant glance at the pile of letters. 
“Only one way to find out if it’s here.”

“It’s here, I know it is. I can feel it.” The prickle of certainty spurred him on, and Izzy picked up the letter again.

If you enjoyed my post, click on over to the rest of the Orgiasts and read more! 

8/30/2015

Story Orgy Creature Feature: Mum's the Word Part 4 #malexmale #storyorgy #creaturefeature


Good morning friends and readers! Today is an awesome day! And I don't just say that because the sun is shining and it's gorgeous out there. No, today is special because I was able to catch up with my Creature Feature story. This is the last late post! Starting tomorrow posts will be on time and available each Monday morning (knock on wood)- barring some unforeseen occurrence. Are you ready to see how the new job goes for Izzy and Owen? Read on!


Mum's the Word
Chapter Four
Aug 24: He closed his eyes.




Mum's the Word
Chapter Four
Aug 24: He closed his eyes.

“What kind of coffee do mummies drink?” Owen handed Izzy one of the Styrofoam cups he held and waited for an answer.

“That better not be de-coffinated.” Izzy accepted the cup and moaned theatrically, closing his eyes after taking a sip. He was dressed in his lawn care clothes, ragged jeans - the same three hundred dollar pair he’d worn six years ago, only now they weren’t worth a fraction of that, they’d been worn so thin and a thin long-sleeved tee.
Owen frowned. “No. It’s fully loaded with all the caffeine and sugar anyone could wish for.” Why was Izzy dressed to mow lawns?

Izzy gulped again, this time following the action with a pout. “Still can’t disguise the fact that this is nasty gas station coffee. I miss The Human Bean.” He glared at the offending cup.

“Didn’t you quit your job?” Owen demanded. Izzy may have changed in many respects since they’d first met, but he was still one of those pretentious coffee snobs. Stoically Owen sipped his own cup. He fought the grimace the heavy flavor induced. Maybe coffee snobbery was something he’d picked up from Izzy. There was no denying that this coffee was not up to snuff. After pay day… then they could splurge on coffee … and turn the damned air conditioning back on. Seven-thirty in the morning and it was already as hot as fuck and humid to boot.

Izzy glanced at him then back at the museum door he’d been watching, hoping for a glimpse of the hot professor no doubt. “No. I called and asked if I could do it later in the day. They said as long as I didn’t make noise after eight it didn’t matter when I start. I’ll put in my eight hours here, then head over to the nursing home and get the lawn work done then.”

“You don’t have the time for three jobs.” Owen stiffened, glaring at his roommate.

“I can’t give that one up. Not at fifteen dollars an hour under the table. Not until we know this one will work out. Did you quit the pizza place?”

Subsiding, Owen ducked his head. “No,” he mumbled. “I’m working after here until mid-night.”

Izzy’s response was drowned out by a thrumming motor that purred to a stop. They swung in unison. Owen didn’t know what Izzy was expecting to see, but in his experience that purr usually meant expensive machine. He wasn’t disappointed. The silver grey Audi was way beyond his budget. The door of the vehicle opened and the professor stepped out.

He’d said to come dressed for work, and Owen and Izzy had taken him at his word. Apparently, whatever work he intended to do himself did not require clothes that could get dirty. Professor Gregoire looked like he’d stepped off a movie set, in a light-weight white summer suit with a pale blue shirt and a ridiculous white fedora. Owen snorted but the sound couldn’t drown out Izzy’s sigh.

“God he’s something else.” Izzy nearly whimpered, not so discreetly shifting himself.

“Something else all right,” Owen muttered. Suddenly the day seemed less bright, and the bad coffee truly awful. He gulped the remains and crushed the cup in his hand.
When the professor reached the cement stoop of the museum, Owen pointedly turned his back and made a show of disposing of his cup in the metal trash can. Behind him he could hear Izzy chatting with the man, voice a little breathless, a little high and naive.

Gut tight, Owen turned back to the other two, forcing a smile to his lips. “So? Let’s go find something fabulous to put on display so the university can rake in some dough.”

The professor's thick lips split in a chilling grin. “Indeed. Shall we?” He exchanged a long glance with Izzy before unlocking the door, and that glance… it made Owen uneasy.

He could see from the pink in Izzy’s cheeks that his roommate took it as flirtation, but from Owen’s point of view there was nothing sensual in Gregoire’s body language… just intent.

“I can’t believe we’re going to have the chance to be in on the ground floor of this!” Izzy enthused, practically bouncing with excitement.

“It’s not like we’re in the field finding breakthrough artifacts,” Owen cautioned, but he couldn’t help smiling. All summer long he’d tried to break through Izzy’s uncharacteristically morose behavior. The summer had been hard on Izzy. Owen was used to privation… to going without. He’d been raised in a sterile environment, with clothes from the Goodwill and food his mom brought home from her job waiting tables. Living in the freshman dorm had brought him his first taste of air conditioning. 

But Izzy? Izzy was used to a more material lifestyle- to organic produce, five dollar cups of coffee and designer jeans.

Not that the dark haired man had complained.

“You never know.” Izzy’s eyes sparkled. “It’s like that antique show on PBS. You know the one where they go through people’s junk and find valuable treasures? We’ve got a museum full of stuff that people knew was important enough to preserve. All we have to do is find the best artifacts and highlight them.”

Izzy’s silent acceptance of their plight had made Owen feel even worse, like it was his fault the university had cancelled the summer dig, his fault that Ernesto Gamez had resigned and vanished, his fault that they ate endless amounts of stale pizza and preservative laden ramen noodles.

Izzy deserved better. He deserved to be light-hearted and flirty and to be excited about being an archeologist. “Yeah,” Owen mustered as much excitement about digging through what he was certain was going to be mountains of worthless junk as he could and followed as his friend trailed behind the creepy professor in his white linen suit.  






If you enjoyed my post, click on over to the rest of the Orgiasts and read more! 

Book Sale, Don't Stop Believing, Top Chef #malexmale #writestuff #caffeinateme



Happy Sunday everyone! *sips coffee* The sun has returned from hiatus and that makes me happy. It also seems to be getting crazy hot out there, and I've already turned the ac on. Can't let the house get too hot, can we? Remember, the sale on Mark's Opening Gambit at All Romance  ends on the 31st. Don't miss out! I’m planning a few sales for September, but don't have details yet. Will let you all know when I have them.


What kind of food do mummies like?
Lettuce wraps!

In other news, I posted the fourth chapter of Mum's the Word to the blog this morning. You can catch up to it HERE. The story seems to be flowing nicely now. I have Monday's post ready to go as well, which means I'm back on schedule and back to weekly posts. Chatted with Havan last night and she gave me some great inspiration for a scene or two that just might be hair raising This horror is a new genre for me, so I'm not really sure how effective it's being. You drop me a line and let me know what you think, okay?

Got a nice line-up of music cued for today. Started out with some Petty , following that up with Steely Dan and Journey's Don't Stop Believing. Musical inspiration. What's your go to band to break writer's block?

Took a break from The Walking Dead to binge watch a few episodes of another of my favorite shows: Top Chef. I'm getting antsy about season 13. Can't wait for it to start. I've learned a lot from watching this show. For instance:

      1.     There are people who peel peppers. Never in my life had it even occurred to me to do this. The peel on a pepper is so thin, it's practically non-existent. But Tom Colicchio says it's bitter, not to be born.
2.      A few grains of salt make all the difference. Incredibly, there are those people out there who can distinguish how much salt, down to the grain, you put in your recipe. If I heard the judges say it one, I heard it a dozen times, "With a few grains of salt, this would be amazing, but now it's just blah."
3.      Wylie Dufresne is awesome. I never heard of Wylie, or gastro molecular cookery until Top Chef. I still don't care much for gastro cookery- I like my food plain and simple and looking like what it tastes like- but Wylie is adorably geeky with his long straight hair, round features and glasses.
4.      Fine dining is not intended to meet the dietary or nutritional guides of any human being. So if you're planning on eating out at a nice place, have a hearty snack beforehand.
5.      Never make risotto. Risotto is NOT just rice. It's apparently a cult all of its own. I swear, a dozen people must have been sent home for their risotto, and some of them were quite bitter over it.
Can't wait until October to meet the new cheftestants! What about you? Are you a Top Chef fan? Who's your favorite contestant?

Thanks for hanging out with me, y'all. It's time grab some lunch and get to work.


8/29/2015

No Sunrise, Mummy Underwear, Co-writing #writestuff #caffeinateme






Greeting friends and readers! *gulps coffee* No sunrise today- well, there was one I presume, I just couldn't see it. The sky is all grey and dreary and it's actually rained twice so far today. That's all right. We'll make our own sunshine, right? Perfect music for battling this rainy gray day? I've got some Tom Petty cranked up and some Bad Company to follow.



Good news is, I finally have a blurb for A Man of Unusual Talent. I won't share it all- after all the editor hasn't seen it yet, but here's a bit I'm especially fond of:

            When marshmallows are involved, the course of true-love is bound to get sticky.

            

Today I'm finishing up part four of Mum's the Word, where our heroes begin their work for the sinister Professor Gregoire. At least, Owen seems to find him creepy. Izzy, that brat, seems to think he's pretty hot. If all goes according to plan that should be posted this evening or tomorrow. And immediately after that, I start part five. No end of deadlines with this prompt writing! It's a load of fun though.
What brand of underwear does a mummy wear? 
Fruit of the Tomb!

The thing I'm most excited about is that it's nearly September. The year just zoomed by, and now I get to work with Havan Fellows again. Last year we co-wrote a great book, Christmas in His Heart. It was an amazing experience- we had some kind of creative synergy going on. I never got stuck once or had a day where the words weren't there when I needed them to be. I'm looking forward to replicating that experience as we write a second holiday story- this one featuring two characters- Chaz and Sprocket- who were introduced in Christmas in His Heart. Chaz has been talking to me, and apparently he's not pleased with the leisurely pace we've taken in writing his story. It seems he has a master plan. You know the sort? Own your own restaurant by the time you turn thirty, get married at thirty-two… etc. He's got an internal clock ticking for some reason. I'll keep you posted on that.

Speaking of keeping posted, Mark's Opening Gambit has been on sale at All Romance eBooks for 50% off. The sale ends on Monday, so if you haven't picked up a copy, now's the best time to do that. This is the story of a two men who are opposites, a blue collar grocery store employee who's out and open and closeted chess parlor owner who is under his parents' thumb. It was one of the first books I wrote and was originally published by Breathless Press. The gorgeous cover is by Victoria Miller.



Heading off to make some pumpkin bread and get some words on the page. Thanks for hanging out with me, y'all. It's time to change the CD's and get to work.




Be Yourself

To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting. ~e.e. cummings, 1955