12/03/2015

Crawl in Bed With Mia Kerick and Clean #pridepromotions #mmromance #authorinterview




Crawling Into Bed With Mia Kerick
And a Good Book … which would be Clean my new release, of course!!!!

Important things first, are these sheets silk or cotton?
Well, I will admit to being a flannel girl, and I am into flannel during all seasons.

What are you wearing?
Old Navy heart-printed PJ pants, of course! Isn’t that what everybody wears to bed?


What are we snacking on in bed while we read tonight?
Reese’s Peanut Butter Pumpkins and candy corn. (It is almost Halloween and I’m stocked up on candy.)

  
If I open this nightstand drawer, what will I find?
Well, that’s a naughty little question… Wouldn’t you like to know? (Oh, well, I guess that is why you asked, isn’t it?) I hope Distraction 101 was successful here.

Do you roll up in the blankets like a burrito, or kick the covers off during the night?
I sleep in stages: I start without the covers but end up a burrito.

Can I put my cold feet on your calves to warm them up?
Yes, if I can put my ice cold nose into the hollow of your neck.

What are we reading? Clean by Mia Kerick
Blurb:

High school senior Lanny Keating has it all. A three-sport athlete at Lauserville High School looking at a college football scholarship, with a supportive family, stellar grades, boy band good looks… until the fateful day when it all falls apart.
Seventeen-year-old Trevor Ladd has always been a publicly declared zero and the high school bad-boy. Abandoned by his mother and sexually abused by his legal guardian, Trevor sets his sights on mere survival.
Lanny seeks out Trevor’s companionship to avoid his shattered home life. Unwilling to share their personal experiences of pain, the boys explore ways to escape, leading them into sexual experimentation, and the abuse of illegal drugs and alcohol. Their mutual suffering creates a lasting bond of friendship and love.
When the time finally comes to get clean and sober, or flunk out of high school, only one of the boys will graduate, while the other spirals downward into addiction.
Will Lanny and Trevor find the strength to battle their demons of mind-altering substances as well as emotional vulnerability?
Clean takes the reader on a gritty trip into the real and raw world of teenage substance abuse.

Pages or Words: 289 pages


Excerpt:
PROLOGUE

Lanny

Trevor wouldn’t even look at me when I walked over to the gas station this morning to say hi. And Jimmy’s Fuel Stop is like three miles from my house so it took a major effort to walk there, especially since I’ve been feeling like total crap lately. Another one of my shaky human bonds bites the dust. I need to go out and get myself a cat.
“Can’t you see I’m working, Keating?” That was all he said. But I’ve always been good at reading between the lines. I could tell what he was thinking as he stood beside the gas pumps, totally caught up in not looking at me. “Take a hike before you get me fired, loser. Some of us got goals in life....” So I took off before he had a chance to make me feel like I shouldn’t have ever made an appearance on the planet earth. But I still know it would have been better had I never been born...maybe Joelle would still be okay.
It’s Saturday afternoon and nobody’s home. Mom and Dad are probably off at the park with Joelle, sloshing through the wet snow together so she gets her daily exercise. Or maybe they took her to the make- your-own-sundae-place to improve her fine motor skills by sprinkling sweet toppings on big scoops of ice cream. I’m in Mom and Dad’s bathroom, bent in half with my head stuck in the closet, searching the cluttered shelves for anything that will get me high enough to escape. And I mean anything.
That’s when I see the cough syrup. The bottle in front is almost new, and there’s an older bottle of a different brand right behind it, little more than halfway full. Seeing these medicine bottles reminds me of something Chad suggested about a week or two ago— that we should try robo-tripping. He told me that if we drink enough cough syrup, the DXM in it would get us high in a “super blissful, tingling-body-parts way,” which sounded pretty decent to me then and still does now. Not completely surprised I remembered Chad’s exact description of a DXM high, I thank God for this dextromethorphan stuff that suppresses nasty coughs, because it looks like I’m going to find my much-needed buzz after all.
Pleased that I don’t have to resort to sniffing glue from the tube on my father’s basement workbench or huffing my mother’s hairspray—and believe me I came close—I snatch the bottles with a shaky hand. They’re both sticky with the syrup that dripped down the side last time one of the Keating’s had a major head cold accompanied by a hacking cough. Licking my fingers provides me with a hint of the cherry flavor I’m probably going to be barfing up later tonight. But I don’t care. I can’t get through a single day without some help, and by that I don’t mean help from my human friends, seeing as I have none left.
The walk to the shed seems longer than ever. It’s an effort to so much as put one foot in front of the other. I haven’t eaten anything for a full day; I’m sure that’s why I feel like such crap. And it’s not like I want to think about this stuff, but I can’t stop myself. The “stuff” I don’t want to think about is really people. The people I have hurt so much lately because of my bad habits.
This list starts with my little sister Joelle, who I told to “stuff a sock in it” when she asked me to read that goddamned book about a kid going to school—for the zillionth time! “School’s not all it’s cracked up to be, Jo. Stop being so damned excited about it! Those kids are gonna tear you to pieces and won’t even wait until you turn your back to do it!” It hurts too much to remember the expression on her face right after I told her that, so instead I stare beyond the leafless trees into the gray sky and think about my parents.
I’ve hurt Mom and Dad a lot too, because they know I’m sick, they just don’t know exactly what’s wrong with me. And I’m not sure how much they care. Their plates are too full already with Joelle’s problems, I guess.
I glance down at the two bottles of cough medicine dangling from between my fingers and remember Chrissy and Robyn, who I use like toilet paper. They can do way better than me in the study-buddy department.
I trip over a root that crosses my path and fall to my knees, but just as quickly drag myself back to my feet. A stray root isn’t enough to stop me from getting to where I’m going.
I’m almost at the shed now, and I can’t avoid thinking about him any longer. Trevor hates me. He never calls anymore, never asks me to go to the shed to drink some beer and fool around. He just looks at me in the hallway at school with angry disgusted eyes, and tells me every chance he gets “you’re fucking up your life and I’m not gonna let you fuck up mine.”
Trevor Ladd...the ultimate untouchable. If I could’ve made somebody like him want to be with me, I would’ve surely been able to win my parents back. Well, no such luck. I’m more of a zero to Trevor than I ever was...and Mom and Dad still don’t care.
Blew my entire life sky high. Which is where I’ll be soon, if all goes according to plan. I lift each bottle of sticky sweet cough medicine to my lips and kiss them, one by one.
Just the sight of the tiny, beat-up brown shed fills me with an indescribable sense of relief, probably like the feeling of coming home after years at sea. As soon as I push open the door, I see that Trevor isn’t here and I’m illogically disappointed. But Trevor can’t save me from myself. He did his duty; he tried to get me clean, and he got clean in the process.
Way to go, Trevor.
Alone in a frigid shed in the middle of the woods, I’m more than eager to suck down a couple bottles of cough medicine so I can be somewhere else...someone else. A vision of Landon Keating forms in my mind—not Lanny, the student, or Lanny, the athlete, or Lanny, the son and brother—but the near-future version of me when I’m “simultaneously mellow and stimulated,” if the online experiences I’ve read about taking DXM are accurate. Sad truth is, I’ll take just plain disoriented. Any effect will be fine if it whisks me away.
I drop down to the cold floor and without ceremony open one of the small bottles. The cough medicine goes down more easily than I thought.
Cherry-berry-sweet-thick-burning-soothing- pleasure-pain. It doesn’t take too long.
Itchy as hell...belly’s on fire....
“Read to me, Lanny...read it again!
”Can’t feel my legs at all....
“Wishes don’t wash dishes, son.”
Can’t stop barfing.... So sick....
“Take a hike, Keating—you filthy, no-good, loser boozer-druggie!”
Blew it with Trevor...blew it with everybody.
Can’t breathe...need a breath....
Gonna die here alone.

Buy the book:
Amazon UK:  http://amzn.to/1ZBPUEg
Amazon CA:   http://amzn.to/1VRKXCt
Amazon AU:  http://bit.ly/1MyfIfm

Meet the author:
Mia Kerick is the mother of four exceptional children—all named after saints—and five nonpedigreed cats—all named after the next best thing to saints, Boston Red Sox players. Her husband of twenty years has been told by many that he has the patience of Job, but don’t ask Mia about that, as it is a sensitive subject.
Mia focuses her stories on the emotional growth of troubled young men and their relationships, and she believes that sex has a place in a love story, but not until it is firmly established as a love story. As a teen, Mia filled spiral-bound notebooks with romantic tales of tortured heroes (most of whom happened to strongly resemble lead vocalists of 1980s big-hair bands) and stuffed them under her mattress for safekeeping. She is thankful to CoolDudes Publishing, Dreamspinner Press, Harmony Ink Press for providing her with an alternate place to stash her stories.
Mia is proud of her involvement with the Human Rights Campaign and cheers for each and every victory made in the name of marital equality. Her only major regret: never having taken typing or computer class in school, destining her to a life consumed with two-fingered pecking and constant prayer to the Gods of Technology.


Where to find the author:

Website (& Blog): www.miakerick.com
Newsletter Sign Up: http://eepurl.com/bCLWfT
Publisher: Cool Dudes Publishing
Cover Artist: Louis C. Harris

Tour Dates & Stops:

Rafflecopter Prize: $10.00 Amazon gift card
Rafflecopter Code:


12/01/2015

Kindle Fire Giveaway, Update, Tequila Does What? #caffeinateme #writestuff

Good morning! *sips coffee* Just in case anyone forgot, Havan and I are running around on a blog tour with Heart on the Run. There's a lot of great interviews, fun excerpts, and oh yeah… a chance to win a Kindle Fire!

It's a long tour, and so I just thought I'd share last week's posts in case you missed any.


On Tuesday, Chaz and Sprocket, our main characters (they're so cute) talked about their childhoods at Inked Rainbow Reads .– And then ducked over to Elisa My Reviews and Ramblings for a quickie.  

On Thursday, Havan and I discussed what the future holds at Unquietly Me.  Then confessed our guilty pleasures at Love Bytes

Saturday at Gale Stanley's – We talked philosophy and what makes your clothes fall off. Hint: Tequila is involved. Then we went over to Happily Ever Chapter  to share what Parkerburg means to us.





Heart on the Run
Heart of Parkerburg Book: Two (can be read as a standalone)

November 16, 2015

Available at   All Romance     Smashwords     Amazon
Blurb:
Charles Darwin Millsworth, Chaz to one and all since infancy, has no wish to live up to the grandeur of his name. Fortunately, his Southern belle mama isn’t at all inclined to push her son into a career that won’t make him happy. She thinks he needs to loosen up and enjoy life. After all, that’s the whole point of being independently wealthy, isn’t it?
Chaz can see her point, but his father died in his forties as did his father before him. As far as Chaz is concerned, he has limited time on this earth to make his dreams come true. And he refuses to leave anyone weeping over a wasted life.
Sprocket Moretti is a simple guy. He loves his job, enjoys college, lives in his beloved childhood home—why worry about the little things when the big stuff looks so good. Unfortunately one of the little things he tries not to stress over is a broken friendship with a very hot and bewildering sous chef. They were pals, hung out and had fun. But one night they stepped over that invisible line, and the next morning Chaz kicked Sprocket out of his bed and his life.
Now, no matter how much Sprocket tries to charm Chaz, the guy has no desire to return to their pre-sex playful bantering ways. And if Sprocket stays true to his motto, this little thing—Chaz—should be written off and never worried about again.
If Sprocket had known one night of reality altering orgasms would endanger their easygoing friendship… How do you finish that sentence when all your mind wants is its friend back and all your body wants is another taste?


Excerpt:
Sprocket grabbed the grande hot chocolates—with a dash of his favorite flavoring, pecan—and reached the gazebo with five minutes to spare, per the clock tower.
He set the drinks on the bench of the gazebo so he could spread the blanket across the floor.
“Wow, that’s a huge blanket,” Chaz stated as he took the three step up to stand at the edge of it.
“Never took you for a size queen.” Sprocket winked as he handed him a cup of steaming goodness. “So, what’s for lunch?”
“Oh, well…” Chaz held the basket close to his chest as he slipped off his shoes and situated himself in the middle of the blanket. “Not much.” He pulled a thermos from the basket. “I made homemade tomato soup and chicken salad sandwiches.” He set the thermos down and pulled out wrapped sandwiches, a bag of croutons, a plastic bowl with a translucent red lid, and a small stack of china dishes in rapid succession.
“My grandma used to make me tomato soup and grilled cheese all the time. Except she’d actually grill the cheese before putting it on the sourdough toast. I tried to make it once…didn’t end so well.” He laughed as he shook his head, settling down next to Chaz on the blanket.
“But I’ve heard you and Mason talk; you cook most of the time between the two of you.”
Sprocket accepted the sandwich handed to him and nodded. “Yep. Well you know, we both can cook, but neither of us gets much fun out of it.” He unwrapped the sandwich and picked up half, biting into it. He couldn’t suppress his moan. Damn that was good, and Chaz put nuts in it for crunch, walnuts and pecans. How did he know pecans were Sprocket’s favorite? A part of him wanted to believe maybe Chaz had asked around. Anyone in Craft Time would know and Prudence did too.
Not that it mattered either way. Nothing strange about a friend—and only a friend—knowing something as mundane as that. He quickly chewed and swallowed. “And we definitely don’t do fancy. Unless you count roast, but even then I sprinkle the seasoning on it and throw it in the oven. No fuss, no muss.”
With his next bite, something popped in his mouth, making him want to gag. He held it back, and while Chaz gazed out over the park at the kids running in the playground Sprocket lifted the toast to see what he bit into. Grapes. He grimaced as he quickly plucked the halved grapes out of the salad and dropped them on the napkin by his leg.
“You don’t like grapes?”
Sprocket jumped. Fuck…busted. “I like them fine. I like them right off the vine, frozen, even mashed up as wine…don’t like them so much with seeds, though.”
“Or in a sandwich, apparently.” Chaz noted, gesturing to the evidence on the blanket between them.
“Well…” Sprocket jammed the rest of the sandwich in his mouth and chewed slowly, biding himself some time. While he was trying to break down the enormous amount of food in his mouth, he grabbed the other half of the sandwich and proceeded to pick the grapes out of that also.
Chaz raised an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged. He’d already been caught, no use faking it up now.
Reaching over, Chaz snatched Sprocket’s wrist and guided it to his mouth. Sprocket gulped the food in his mouth down, his stomach somersaulting either from the partially chewed lump it just received or because of the man sitting across from him on the blanket.
This wasn’t what friends did. Friends didn’t use their friend’s fingers as utensils. Still, he probably could’ve gotten past this moment if there hadn’t been a smidge of mayonnaise on the tip of his nail. Chaz spotted it, and while staring Sprocket in the eye, he put that spot right in front of his mouth. They sat like that for an eternity. Sprocket could feel his heart pounding fast, wondered if his pulse alerted Chaz to his extreme interest in the man’s next move.
He wanted to shout at Chaz to lick him. Do it now. Put him out of his misery. There was nothing Sprocket wanted more than to experience the wetness of Chaz’s tongue as it cleaned the white stuff from his finger. That was a lie. Sprocket wanted them to make more white stuff that had to be cleaned off, the kind you couldn’t purchase in a store. Well, maybe you could purchase it…but he really didn’t want his brain to go off on that tangent.
Finally—finally!—Chaz licked the condiment off. Before he could move back and call an end to this little episode, Sprocket broke free of his grip and hooked his hand behind the other man’s neck, holding him there, unable to move away.
When their lips met, it wasn’t gentle and coaxing. Sprocket wasn’t in that kind of mood. He wanted bad and he wanted now. Fuck friends. That whole concept was overrated if it kept him up all night in need. Anyway, this wasn’t his fault. Chaz started this shit; Sprocket would finish it.
And this time, he’d be better prepared. When Chaz kicked him the fuck out of his life, it wouldn’t tear him apart. Because no matter what, he’d make sure there wasn’t a spot in his heart for Chaz. Sprocket willingly would give up half his bed for the man, but nothing more.
While diving his tongue in Chaz’s mouth—reaching far enough back he could say with great certainty Chaz no longer had tonsils—Sprocket damn near convinced himself that he could do that, too.
Then Chaz whimpered, his hand pressing against Sprocket’s chest, right over his heart, and Sprocket knew he was a goner.



11/30/2015

No Sun, Forecast: Naps, Christmas Shopping #caffeinateme #writestuff


Good morning everyone! *sips coffee* Still grey and cloudy here. No sun for us until Wednesday according to local weather channels. Good thing for me, I had this review cross my feed and it's warming me up quite nicely this morning!

Lovely review from Christy at Rainbow Book Reviews for Dead Money, # 5 in my Jack of Spades Series with Pulp Friction.

"I'm not ready for this to end, Lee. I think you should be aware of my feelings on the subject. My feelings involve a lot of dramatic sighs, some childish sticking out of my tongue, and many pffts. So there. I don't want this to end, but I'm greedily devouring every word to get to the answers Sabine and the rest of the crowd are looking for."

Read More at Rainbow Book Reviews



In other news, I have nearly finished my Christmas shopping and have yet to venture into an actual store. I love Cyber Monday, virtual Thursday or whatever anyone wants to call online shopping. It's amazing. Now if some virtual elf would come over and wrap all this stuff that would be awesome. How about you? Are you a shop at the last minute type, or did you fight the Black Friday crowds for the best deals? Do you fall somewhere in the middle?

*Refills coffee* Thanks for stopping by. I'm heading off to tackle today's to do list. Y'all have a great one!



Dead Money


Available at 

Barton Montoire's fragile hold on his emotions is worn thin by exorcisms and fear. Even though he's beginning to realize the full potential of his abilities as a ghost, he has no power to stop his lover's plot to end the darkness that has threatened their relationship for close to a year, not with all their friends in the line of fire.
In all of time, there have existed few men who transcend the bonds of life and death, who see the spirits as clearly as the living. These men possess the ability to summon others, creating doorways between realms, physical and metaphysical. A dusty tome written in cryptic language reveals terrifying secrets, but with a little help from his friends, Sabine Brusilov knows what must be done. For the good of humanity and supes alike, he must call forth the shadowy demon, leading it into a trap.
Unfortunately, talent is not skill, and the ability to summon cannot be mastered by taking a class or two and scouring the internet for information. With Bart at his side and his friends at his back, Sabine brings talent, skill, and strength of will to battle evil before it can join the gathering forces of darkness that menace New Orleans.
With dead money on the table, is love enough to take the hand?


11/29/2015

Warm Socks, Best Seller, Holiday Collection #caffeinateme #writestuff



Good morning everyone! *sips coffee* Fighting off the cold and gloom again today. Winter wouldn't be so bad if the sun could just shine a little for me each day.  That's okay though, this time, it was my email to the rescue. J

Over the long weekend I released a collection of Christmas shorts, something I intended to announce her eon the blog today. Well along with the release announcement, I get to tell you that Season's Greetings has earned a silver star and a spot on the best seller list at All Romance eBooks.



If you ever doubted smiling could be painful, well, I can personally vouch for the validity of the claim. My lips are stretched in a grin so big my face hurts. Right there is where one of my siblings would normally comment, "Well, it's killing me". Thank you for refraining. *beams*




So… that said. Here's my seasonal offering this year, a collection of previously published holiday stories, hot, sexy, sweet and full of the spirit of the season.

Season's Greetings*

An M/M Holiday Collection

Available at


A Word from the Author

Dear Friends,
This is a seasonal collection of holiday m/m romances. All of the stories were previously published, and are available as single titles. This collection will be available for a discounted price, significantly lower than the prices of the individual titles for the holiday season only.
Have a wonderful holiday and please enjoy,


Table of Contents

When Ben learns Cris’s business travel means his lover will be gone for the holidays, he begins to rethink their relationship. Ben’s family steps in to keep him busy, but does he dare ask Cris to put him before the job?

A ghostly visit on Christmas Eve points grieving Kyle in a new direction.

When a shopping mall elf is touched by a joyless child, a connection is forged that lasts a lifetime.

Detective Grant Hammond spends Christmas at a hot springs hotel with his lover, JT, who is determined to celebrate the old fashioned way, popcorn garland and all.

*This collection will only be available during for the holidays, until Jan. 15th of 2016.
** All stories in this collection are previously published.



Thank you for stopping by today and visiting. I'm off to try out a promising recipe for Chicken Yakisoba that I found on a blog today. Will let you all know how that turns out J


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