30 July 2019

Interview with E.D. Parr!

Thank you for inviting me to your blog with my new release gay romance from Evernight Publishing, Dear Heart.
This will make you smile.
I wrote Dear Heart for my guardian angel, because he’s worked overtime all my life so far.
Aiden Flint goes on vacation with three friends to Pamplona, Spain. Seeking excitement, they will run with the bulls in the festival of St. Fermin. As the four friends enjoy the nightlife, they notice an attractive man watching Aiden in the bars they visit. In the warmth and heady atmosphere of the exotic city, Aiden takes a chance and approaches the handsome man.

Enigmatic Santiago Arista is sexy, kind, desperate for love, and achingly lonely. He’s just about given up on finding love, until one warm, summer night, sitting alone in a bar, he sees gorgeous Aiden. He’s elated when Aiden joins him at his table.

Deep attraction swirls between them. At the end of the night when they share a kiss, Aiden can’t believe the bliss that enfolds him, but have both men found someone to love just when fate is about to throw Aiden into mortal danger?

Welcome E.D. Parr, I have a few questions for you today.
Who would be your favorite character across all of your books and why?
I love all my characters, but I think the one I’d choose as favorite (only if I had to)
is Nick Kringle from Make a Wish. He’s enchanting, happy, and uplifting. Hmm, actually I feel disloyal now to my other gorgeous, lovable characters.
Writers block can be a real pain in the ass! Do you suffer from it sometimes? And if so, how do you deal with it?
I’ve never had writers’ block, luckily. I’m the opposite I have so many ideas I don’t get enough time to write every story I think of. I do sometimes run out of stamina and wish the words would jump out of my mind onto the computer screen. I go for walks when I’m mentally tired or I watch a favorite movie.
What are you working on at the moment? Can you share a little snippet to whet our appetites.
I’m writing a gay Sci-Fi romance. So far, I have no title for it. Titles generally drop into my head some way into the story.
Here’s a snippet:
Corin took the step and closed the gap between them. He grabbed Zeb around the head and kissed him. The kiss lasted longer than he intended. Feelings Corin had pushed to the bottom of his heart rose in a tide of remembrance and flooded his body with tenderness. Horrified he pushed Zeb away, aimed, and clicked the button on the portalphone. Through the aura of white light cast as the portal took him away, Zeb’s loving smile tore at his heart. Corin closed his eyes, but he knew he’d see Zeb in his dreams forever as his former lover raised a hand in farewell.

He bent his head when scalding tears rushed from his eyes and traced a path down his cool skin. To hide them, he scooped up Zeb’s sword, before he turned to Marcus who joined him silently.

Marcus placed his hand softly on Corin’s arm.

He knew it was a gesture of support, but all the same, Corin shook it off.
“I need to report the corpse.” He pressed the communicator lodged in his ear. “JaKobi. The mission is complete, but there’s a bloody mess in Sector Five. Send a cleaning unit ASAP. I’ll wait here in case the red stuff attracts undesirable behavior.”
Copyright E.D. Parr 2019
In 5 words, describe your writing style.
Narrative, sensory, emotive, colorful, dynamic
In reference to writing, are you most productive in the morning, afternoon or are you a night owl?
This is really because of my day job. I write at night, but I am naturally a night owl and hate getting up in the morning.
Do you write one story at a time or more than one? How do you balance them?
I used to write more than one story at a time, but usually it was no more than two. I’d balance them according to how the characters developed. Then that changed and I usually write one story at a time, but I have a few partly written stories in folders on my laptop waiting for me to find the time to get back to them.
What is your least favorite part of the writing or publishing process?
It’s marketing because it’s so time consuming and relentless with not so much result per effort expenditure. It has to be done, but it takes away from writing time and I resent that.
Where do you find inspiration?
Well, the oddest places and things provide me with inspiration.
An interesting building I pass, a road sign, the natural world, for instance, a forest.
The inspiration for my story The Night Gardener came to me one night. Zachary Yarrow one of the heroes, came to me in the night. There are lots of natural noises in the night where I live. Recently something larger than usual had been padding along the patio and wooden deck at the side. As I listened one night, I suddenly thought, its gardening, the animal is the night gardener, and it made me laugh. Then Zachary dropped into my mind like the hot stuff he is and I had to write. Dane Lovell, my other hero, is the guy who’s had some heartbreak. He’s still shaken by it, and perhaps he doesn’t need the paranormal side of Zachary, but the tradeoff comes because Zachary is such a happy character, and there’s no inkling of what’s really happening with him until they fall deeply in love, and Dane asks Zachary to live with him. That’s the catalyst for Dane to give Zachary the support he’s needed all along.
I love them both. They’re perfect for each other. They have the kind of love we all deserve.
By the way, this is a happy story, it can tug on the heartstrings, but there’s a HEA
Fun questions if you feel like answering them:
If you had to pick one song of all time that would be the theme song to your life.
Right now it would be, Loverboy by Mattis
That will probably change.
What is your favorite quote?
“I spent all morning putting in a comma and all afternoon taking it out.” Oscar Wilde. (This quote varies in lots of sources but the sentiment remains the same.)
Name your guilty pleasure.
Lemon drizzle cake
Tea or coffee
Black Tea
Black or blue denim
Too hard, I have to say both
Top or bottom
Yikes, as above, both (grins)
Wish list car
Honestly, I’d just like a brand new Jeep Wrangler. My Cherokee is way old but still a goodie.
Wish list vacation
This changes with how tired I feel. Sometimes it’s a tropical island, sometimes touring every single castle, old abbey, and pre-historic site in the UK.
Let’s go back to Dear Heart have you brought a teaser with you?
Yes, here’s where Santiago and Aiden first kiss.
On the narrow sidewalk, when they’d left the bright lights of the bars behind, Santiago took Aiden’s hand.
Excitement rocketed through Aiden. He took a deep breath, and on a dimly lit side street, he turned to Santiago and dragged him close. He molded the length of his body to Santiago’s, breathing close to the gorgeous man’s lips. “Kiss me,” he whispered.
Santiago responded.
The gentle merge of his lips with Aiden’s sent wonderful melting sensations through Aiden’s body. He clung to Santiago, taking kiss after kiss, lingering in the delectable embrace, pressing his hips to Santiago’s, breathing with the gorgeous man, sighing at the same time, until his legs weakened with raw desire.
Santiago drew only a fraction away from Aiden’s mouth. “Your kiss is addictive. I don’t want to stop. I feel your need against my body, and I want to ease it.” He held Aiden’s face and kissed him again.
Waves of exquisite feeling rolled through Aiden. He murmured softly, incoherent sounds of pleasure onto Santiago’s lips each time they broke contact to breathe. His thoughts tumbled in those seconds. The kisses were the best he’d ever experienced. He’d never before felt the kind of sensations running through and over him. He rested his forehead on Santiago’s.
“I’ve never had such totally amazing kisses. I’m floating in pleasure.”
Copyright E.D. Parr 2019, Evernight Publishing

On release special price only from Evernight Publishing until July 24
All other Amazon http://mybook.to/DearHeart

Find E. D Parr online

29 July 2019

Monday Musing...The Influence of Barbarian/Warrior Women

Growing up, my mother was very liberal about what I was allowed to watch on television. Her
explanation was she’d rather be asked questions about what was happening, rather than going behind her back. Yeah, not too sure what that meant, but she allowed me to watch all types of rated R movies. One of my favorite genres back then were “barbarian” films. Like Conan and Red Sonja. I didn’t know why I liked watching them, but back then I really didn’t think too much about it.

We didn’t have Netflix or the internet, so I had to rely on HBO and renting VHS videos. Movies like Barbarian Queen, Hearts and Armour, Deathstalker, and Beast Master. Perhaps it was the sweeping vistas, or the fantasy saga of the journeys…whatever it was, I loved them.

Flash forward to the 90’s and Hercules The Legendary Journey films debuted on the Universal channel for their Action Pack series. By this time, I was in my 20s. The films led to the tv show, which led to a spin-off of Xena Warrior Princess, and this was my absolute favorite show of all times. I couldn’t get enough of it. I’d record the shows on a VHS and rewatch them. And I completely HATED the ending! To this day, I still don’t accept the Xena’s fate. (LOL!!)

Anyway, a couple of weeks ago, I was in my bedroom looking at the movies on Tubi, when I came across Barbarian Queen (again), and started watching it. Yes, the acting is horrible. Yes, the plot is wonky. Yes, the special effects are terrible. I get all that. But I still loved it. This time, however, I had an epiphany. As I watched the late great Lana Clarkson (murdered by Phil Spector), I realized why I liked this types of movie…the women in these films were all badass warriors. Females weren’t the
helpless ninnies in these shows. In Hearts and Armour, Bradamante is a woman who dons armor to save the man she loves. In Xena, she carries a sword and a round chakram. These women fight and win battles, and as a young girl, this was a powerful message, even if I didn’t recognize it when I was a teenager. Without even realizing it, I had positive role models to look up to, to aspire, even though those concepts had gone over my head.

In my own writing, I always write about the female who might start out weak and hopeless, but rises to become a powerful woman. And now I know that journey is a directed inspiration of the women I watched in fantasy and barbarian movies, who rise above every hardship, to become a warrior.

28 July 2019

Blast from the Past...Spotlighting Beth D. Carter's "Recover Me"

Evie Duncan’s dreams are slowly taking over her life. Every night she falls in love with the man invading her subconscious, playing out scenes from a past life.  It becomes harder and harder to wake and leave her dream man behind.

Bishop Kain has devoted his life to protecting crime boss Sherman Groto, but when he spots Evie at an underground fight, all he can think about is her.  He tries to keep his distance, but like a moth to a flame, she’s a siren he can’t resist.

Danger is coming for Evie and her salvation lies somewhere in the truth of her past life.  If Bishop can save her, he may be the one man who can bring her into the light…and for once, she might be willing to stay there.

Q & A 

1.       Did you plot this book out or write wherever an idea took you?

I had this idea of a past life story for a long a long time, inspired by the song “Recovery” by Olivia Newton John. It’s about mental health, but one line of the song is “Cause lover, you won’t recover me” and that was really the driving force of my plot. But it wasn’t until I visited the Mizpah Mine in Tonopah, NV and heard the story of Jim Butler that the story really came together.

      2.   What was your hardest scene to write in this book?

The heroine, Evie, is addicted to sleeping pills, so the hardest part of this book was making sure I struck the right description of that addiction.

           3. Do you believe a book cover plays an important role in the selling process?

Absolutely. And I was so happy with this cover. I am very aware of how the cover sells what’s between the pages, so I didn’t want some cover to show a half-naked girl because that wasn’t who Evie was. Luckily, the cover artist heard my concerns and gave me the face of a woman who had Evie’s story shining in her eyes.
          4. Any advice you would like to give to your younger self?

To never give up, even when sales are dismissal. Writing is more about the author, the stories in your head that need to be told…although getting a paycheck every three months is nice as well. 😊


At that moment, the first bell dinged, alerting the spectators that the Iron Fist match would start in about ten minutes.  Excitement buzzed through the crowd, as if charged with electricity. This wasn’t the organized shit seen on television.  These fights were down and dirty and people bet huge amounts of money on them because anything went.  The referee only stopped the fight when the downed fighter’s sponsor wished to keep him alive.  Usually, though, two men entered and one man dominated, and if the unlucky prick who lost happened to die of a consequence then so be it.  The prize money drew in contestants looking to make a name for themselves and only the best survived.  Watching the carnage was interesting, entertaining, and the brutality called to some latent warrior inside him.  Once upon a time he’d made a name for himself in the ring, but now he made more money protecting Sherman Groto.  It didn’t stop him from wanting to get back inside the cage and bust some heads as the testosterone took him into a blood-fueled high, but he’d always been a practical man.

Yet none of it registered this time as he looked back at the girl once more.  She managed to fell him with one wide-eyed glance from her big dark eyes.  The lights dimmed and suddenly he couldn’t see her.  She’d faded instantly and panic surged through him.  His hands closed into fists and every instinct in his body urged him to go find her, protect her. Only his training to stay near Groto held him back.

“Bring her to me,” the boss ordered.

Bishop stiffened in surprise as suspicion streaked through his gut.  The only time Groto ever wanted a girl was when he wanted to fuck her, and Bishop wasn’t sure he could stand by and let that happen. Not this time with that particular girl. He didn’t know her, and yet, his protective instinct surged immediately.

“Did you hear me, Mr. Kain?” Groto demanded.  “Bring her to me.”

Bishop nodded and had one of the other bodyguards, Santiago, take up his position as he left the private box.  Never once, in all the years he’d worked for Groto, had he ever questioned the boss’s decisions.  Bishop had long ago lain to rest his consciousness and morals, but now, with one command, he was ready to defy the one man who’d given him a purpose in life. 

His big body parted the crowd effortlessly.  His gaze darted around as he headed for the place the girl had last been, and as he reached the back wall, he saw her.  Some man had cornered her, terror evident on her face by the wide eyes and frenetic shaking of her head.  Black rage immediately consumed him, and all he thought about was wrapping his hands around the man’s throat to choke the life out of him. 

With a snarl of rage, he grabbed hold of the man, spun him, and punched him so hard Bishop felt the bones of his nose crunch under his fist.  Blood spurted out as the man dropped like a stone but he didn’t even bother looking at the unconscious man.  Instead, he clamped a hand around the girl’s arm and dragged her away.

She went willingly, even meekly.  As he strode through the crowd, her small hand slid into his and the gesture shocked him so much he came to a halt.  Several people grumbled as they had to maneuver around them, but he didn’t give a shit.  Tingles danced across every nerve ending in his hand where she touched him as his world narrowed down to this one tiny girl, holding on to him and staring at him like she’d seen a ghost. 

“Who are you?” he asked.

She didn’t answer.  Instead she reached up with her free hand and her fingertips lightly traced over his cheek.  Fire shot through him from the innocent, delicate exploration and he couldn’t help himself from backing her up until she hit the wall.  It was much the same position he’d rescued her from not more than a few minutes earlier, but this time her body language was completely different.  Her lips parted, her nipples beaded, and she arched her back toward him.  Bishop fitted himself against her, sliding his thigh between her legs to hold her firmly against his body.  Every bit of him thrummed to life and he’d never ached so desperately to possess a woman.  He wanted to sink his hard cock into her womanly depths and ride her she screamed his name.  The arena, the fight, his job…all of it faded as he stared into her dark, fathomless eyes. 

He let go of her arm to sink his fingers into her hair.  He tilted her face up to his so he could study her face in an effort to determine why she felt so familiar.





26 July 2019

New Paranormal Romance from Suzy Shearer!

When veterinarian Emily Brownstone, 55, finds a poisoned wolf on the roadside, she doesn’t realize the chain of events that will follow.

Someone is trying to kill off the native wildlife, and Emily’s action in saving the wolf will threaten her life, but will also bring her the man of her dreams.

Tate Collins, 57, can’t believe his luck—he’s finally met his soul mate after all these years. All he has to do is tell her his secret—and it is a big one! He just hopes she won’t freak out when she finds out he spends a lot of his time running around on four legs! 

But even if she does accept him, will they find each other only to be torn apart by the danger that threatens the wildlife—and Emily?


"There’s an injured animal on the road, but I can’t lift it by myself. Could you help me please? I want to put it in the rear of my car."

The two men exchanged a look, and Emily felt apprehensive. The look seemed like some silent conversation between them. She didn’t like it, but there was nothing she could do now.

"Injured animal. What sort?"

"A wolf."

Another looked passed between them, and Emily felt the hair on the back of her neck stand. They seemed to be communicating with just body language and looks. It freaked her a little. Before she could tell them to forget about it, they pulled their four-wheel drive to the side of the road and got out. Both men quickly went to the fallen animal. They whispered something to each other and turned to her. Emily could see they were extremely worried and upset, rather more than you’d expect.

"Ma’am, it’s pretty dangerous to put a wild wolf in your car. Why don’t you let us take it?"

Oh, oh.

Suddenly Emily realized these two could be poachers and here she was handing over a beautiful wolf to them. The trade in illegal wolf pelts was still happening and rather lucrative.

Firmly she said, "If you get it onto the back of my jeep, I can check it out and sedate it if necessary. I’m a vet."

Of course, Emily hadn’t practiced full-time for a few years. She’d retired but ran a small practice from her home. Still, she always carried an emergency kit in her car. The taller of the two men seemed to hover over her, and Emily began to back away to the jeep.

"I really think you should let us take it."

His voice was not quite menacing, but it had enough force to make Emily very nervous, but she was determined these two wouldn’t intimidate her and take the wolf.

"No. It needs medical attention."

He stepped very close to her. Regretting her decision to ask for help, she touched the back of the jeep. Casually putting a hand behind her, she groped inside for something heavy in case they attacked her. The shorter of the men leaned toward the other and whispered. The tall one glanced down at her, and he took a couple of backward steps.

© Suzy Shearer 2019



Angus and Robertson: https://www.angusrobertson.com.au


Renaissance woman, best-selling and Award winning author Suzy Shearer writes contemporary and paranormal erotic romances filled with mature and interesting characters. Her books always feature older heroes and heroines; ranging from mid 40s to 60s. The heroines are usually confident plus-sized women who are proud of their curves. Suzy feels it's important for readers to connect.

Suzy also wants her readers to understand just because people are older doesn't mean they aren't intriguing, desirable, open to challenges and willing to experiment. They may be older but not always wiser. Remember sexy isn't just for the under 30s.

A Buddhist and artist, Suzy lives in the Lake Macquarie region of NSW, Australia with one very spoilt dog and two equally spoilt cats keeping her company. When Suzy is not writing, she is usually painting - an accomplished watercolour Artist her subjects range from portraits and animals to nudes and landscapes. She is also a quilter, toy maker, sculptor and potter.
Suzy's Art

                        LiNKS - WHERE TO FiND SUZY:                               

25 July 2019

The Evernighties Weekly Blog Challenge - Week 30

If I Won the Lottery

This challenge is too easy.

1) pay off all the debts

2) quit my day job and write full time

3) buy a house large enough for my mom to have her own apartment

4) send my son to a private school that caters to Autistic children

5) donate to my favorite charity http://loveleorescue.org/ and help many rescued dogs find true loving homes

6) hire a trainer and cook to help me and Mike eat healthy and lose weight

I am a very simple person with very simple desires.

20 July 2019

New Release from JR Gray!


I worshiped at the altar of pain, surviving on avoidance, physical to avoid the mental, anything to forget what Id lost. When Remi walked through the door, I felt like Id paid my price for the passage through hell and been granted a taste of Eden. Remi was my oasis and I was going to drown myself in him. 

But life takes with no remorse and everything was a mirage. The past wont stay dead and a cruel phantom comes to destroy our happiness. The more we need each other the further apart our lives drive us. Im torn between my perfect past and the hope of an oasis, and either choice demands I cut out part of my soul. 

First book in the Inferno series: Clouded Hell

I survive on avoidance. Physical pain to avoid the mental. Disposable flesh to avoid relationships. Work to avoid attachment. My club became my empire of avoidance. Inside the ring millions are won and lost. The fight is confined to breaths, actions and reactions, fists and pain. Rules dont exist. Only my opponent exists. Id been avoiding my needs for far too long when Remi stumbles into the Inferno and Im hungry. The promise of a submissive with no attachment is far too tempting. I cant resist him. He was only supposed to be a distraction, but I know I'll never get over him. There isn't a chance in this clouded hell.



“Scared of me?” he asked.

“Only of you leaving.”

He turned to cup upside down over my chest. The scalding water burned and spread and I slipped. I slipped and floated. My lips parted and I could feel my breath pass between them. I must have moaned, but I was too gone to hear anything. The only thing I felt were his tools on me. Hands, and crops, and maybe a flogger. I craved each touch like the whisper of a lover over my skin. His marks were love written on my skin.

I pulled against the bonds wanting to touch him. The crude rope bit into my wrists, and I didn’t care. I had to touch him. I had to get to him. I knew it was useless, but how many things in life do we do that we know in the end will be useless. I’d felt like that my entire relationship with him. I was chasing someone who would never see me the way I saw him. But he was the sun, and to stand in his light was better than to suffer in the dark for the rest of eternity.

“How easy you are.”

“Only for you.” I swore.

“Even more pathetic.”

“I am. I will be anything you want me to be.”

“I have no doubt of that.” He dragged his nails over the lightly blistered flesh and I cried out.

The pain lifted me and filled me, but not as much as his words. His words broke me, but also built me. I knew they were only for me. I knew he didn’t pay this attention to anyone else.

Then there was soft. A silk touch. His lips? I had to pry open my eyes and fight my way out of the space I was in to see how he kissed my hip. His fingers played over my collar bones, and when he looked me in the eyes, I saw something there I’d never seen before. Maybe he did return my feelings in his way. I lived and died in that one look.

I was forever his, whether he remained or left. Like I’d signed my life away in his eyes. I was his devout servant for eternity.

It was more than a physical release. Better than cumming could ever be.


My lips pulled back as fire raced through my veins. I had no outlet for the rage that filled me. Rain started to fall, soaking us through instantly.

“I don’t know if I want any of that anymore,” I said.

“What? It’s who you are.”

I grabbed his shirt, shoving him into the car. “You are who I am.”

I forced his lips open with mine, kissing him. He didn’t fight me. He still belonged to me. I knew he felt it as much as I did.

I tugged at the fabric and he raised his arms so I could strip off his hastily put on shirt. I shoved his jeans down, without shame wrapping my fingers around his cock.

He dug his nails into my arm. “Dante.”

“Shut up.” I stroked up his length, and his fingers tightened, drawing blood. It mixed with the rain and ran down my arms.

I bit and sucked at his lips and tongue. His other hand found my hip and dug in. I pulled back enough to meet his eyes. He was savage with his nails.

“Do your worst,” I said. 

“You don’t want my worst.”

I grabbed his balls with my free hand and twisted, smiling down at him. He returned the gesture by grabbing my cock through my pants.

“We aren’t in the playroom. I will return all of it.”

I licked over my lips squeezing more and raising a brow. It seemed like challenge.

“Hurt me. I need it.”

Both his brows rose, and he nodded. “Are we doing this out here or are we taking it inside?” Remi unzipped my pants and dugs his nails into my cock as he freed it.

About the Author 

Gray is a cynical Chicago native, who drinks coffee all day, barely sleeps, and is a little too fashion obsessed. He writes realistic and damaged characters because everyone deserves a happily ever after.

Books by JR Gray

The Bound Series