Wednesday, March 28, 2018

NEW RELEASE: Sacrificed to the Gods of Spring (Sacrificed, 4) by Kelex

Hurt while scouting for salvage on his ruined planet, Berke Rylan runs across two other travelers who offer help. Unaccustomed to accommodating strangers in a world of nothing, Berke is hesitant to accept. But when he passes out from blood loss, he has little choice.

He later awakens, healed and his resources unexpectedly refilled—with no signs of the kind strangers. Once he returns to the outpost he calls home, the gifts the strangers have given him cause more trouble than they might be worth.

The leader of the outpost demands to know where he received them, and Berke has no answer to give but the truth. He isn’t believed, and sentenced to die… a sacrifice to the gods of rebirth and life.

Sacrificed books do not need to be read in order... they are loosely based on similar worlds with similar themes.




Sacrificed, Book 4
Copyright © 2018 by Kelex
Chapter One

Irishi, an Earth-like planet in decline

Berkeley “Berke” Rylan climbed through one of the building’s many broken windows, avoiding the jagged glass that remained along the edge. As soon as he stood inside, he dusted his hands off on his pants and gazed around the deteriorating structure, listening for anything moving within. He could only hear the steady beating of his own heart and the shallow breaths he took.
It was cooler inside, yet the heat was still near suffocating. Sweat dripped along his back and temple. He lifted the small canteen at his waist and drained the last few drops of it before shoving it back onto his belt.
Pale sunlight shone in through holes in the ceiling and the holes where windows had once hung. What little bit of glass was left was either shattered by the earthquakes, damaged by roving gangs, or clouded over by lingering dust from the sandstorms that came often came through. At some point—before the oceans and rivers had dried up—trees and foliage had made their claim. Dried dead branches wove here and there, a remnant of another time. From past experience, he knew one touch would make them deteriorate and blow away in the wind.
Once he was fairly certain no one else was there, he relaxed some. The light streaming in deepened the shadows, making it harder to see into the corners of the rooms. Berke took a few tentative steps, scanning the interior as best he could. His footfalls over the layer of fine debris echoed around the room.
As with the last three buildings he’d come into, there looked to be little left behind. Over the last decade, the building had likely been looted and combed over in the search for any resources—over and over again.
The place also smelled of urine and feces, so there was a chance someone, or something, was holing up in there. He made quick work of looking for items of value. Room by room he moved, hopeful there was something left behind that others hadn’t taken.
By the time he reached the last door, he came up short.
His stomach growled, hunger overtaking him. Berke knew there was a small piece of jerky left in his pack, but he was saving that for his dinner. After that, there was nothing else.
Unless he found something to trade.
Berke eyed the stairwell, knowing the building was unstable. A trip up could be catastrophic, so he rarely took the chance. His stomach clenched again, making him reconsider…
Before he could take one step, the ground began to tremble. Instead of heading up, he raced to the window he’d come in through. As he jumped out, he felt the slash of pain. Hitting the ground and rolling, a cry tore from his lips upon impact.
Berke moved his hand down to his ankle and brought back fingers coated in blood.
Fuck.
Before he could investigate any further, the building began to sway. Berke leapt to his feet and scrambled as quickly as he could with a wounded leg. A wall of concrete and metal fell in his direction. His heart thundered in his chest as he scrambled out of the way.
The rubble missed him by inches.
He fell back to his ass, breathing hard, and thankful he’d made it out alive.
After a moment, Berke sat up. Looking to his ankle and seeing his pants soaked with blood, he realized the question now was how long he’d remain alive. Even if he could make it back to the outpost, he could get an infection and it would only be a matter of weeks before he’d be dead.
Berke dug through his pack and found his spare canteen of water. There was little left. Either he washed his wound to protect against infection or he saved it so he didn’t die of dehydration.
He’d seen that death before and it wasn’t pretty.
Berke stared at the canteen a moment, trying to decide what to do.
“Maybe we can be of assistance?”
Berke’s head whipped up, and he quickly scrambled to his feet. Pain made him want to hiss… but he tried to hide the ache from the stranger. He reached for his knife and held it in his hand, ready for a fight.
Two huge men stood near, one much closer than the other.
How did they sneak up on me? Because I was more concerned with another lethal threat.
The closer of the two stood with his hands empty, palms up. “We mean you no harm.”
Berke looked between them. Both kept their hands up and where he could see them, but as hulking as they were it was hard to see them as anything but a threat. Returning his gaze to the first man. “What do you want?”
The stranger frowned. “I see you’re hurt. We can help.”
That frown… the look of concern… Berke narrowed his gaze. There was something… familiar about the man. He looked to the second. Yes, there was something familiar about them both. Searching his memory, he couldn’t recall where he’d seen them before.
Their size alone should’ve made them stand out in his memory. Berke wasn’t small. He stood eighteen hands tall… these men were easily twenty hands.
“I don’t need your help,” Berke said, his jaw clenched against the pain.
“If you don’t treat that cut, you could end up with a nasty infection.”
Berke eyed the strangers, his gaze moving between them. After it landed back on the closer man, he asked, “I don’t have anything of value for you to steal.”
“There’s nothing I want,” the man said with a smile. “Other than to help you… if you’ll let me.”
Give yourself to us.
Berke shook his head. Where had that thought come from? He shook his head, pushing the wayward thought from his mind. “Help? Not likely.”
“I know you’re not accustomed to the kindness of strangers… but we mean you no harm. There’s nothing you have we wish to steal. Your things… nor your life.”
Berke met the man’s stare… and he sucked in a gasp. There was something about him… something that made Berke want to give in.
Yet, that only made him warier.
“You’ll die without our help,” the man murmured, cocking his head to the side. “So, what do you have to lose?”
Berke eyed them both… they were clean. Well dressed. Well fed. They didn’t belong there.
“You have medicine?” he asked.
“A salve. Of my own creation,” the man said. “Not much medicine around anymore.” He pulled a pack from over his shoulder.
Berke jumped, lifting the knife.
“Relax… I’m just going to get the salve to show you.”
Berke’s heart raced, adrenaline shooting through his veins. He tightened his grip on the knife, hoping like hell he wouldn’t have to use it.
He would, if forced to.
There was already enough death and decay around. Berke never chose to add to it, unless there was no other choice.
Kill or be killed.
His gaze moved between them, his body tense and ready to jump.
The stranger lifted a tin from his pack and opened it. He showed the contents to Berke.
“And it can stop an infection?”
“It’s helped others before,” the stranger answered.
“You a doctor?”
The stranger smiled. “I’m a healer, of sorts.” The man looked down and knelt suddenly.
Berke’s gaze followed the man down.
His canteen.
Fuck! He didn’t have much water left as it was. If they took his canteen, he’d likely die of dehydration before he made it back to the outpost.
If I make it back to the outpost. “Giv—”
“Looks like you dropped this,” the stranger interrupted, handing over Berke’s canteen.
Berke stared at it a moment, ashamed that he’d assumed the worst. It could still be a trick. Luring me closer so they can kill me. 
Yet his gut told him that wouldn’t happen.
The stranger smiled slightly, and something unfurled in his mind. He still couldn’t quite remember why he knew this man…
“We mean you no harm,” the stranger repeated. “You’ll die without water. Please… take it.”
Berke met the man’s stare—his eyes an odd golden color, much like the hair on his hair and face. Inside those eyes, he saw no guile. No evil intent. A sense of comfort came over him, and Berke didn’t understand it. His defenses felt as if they were crumbling around him and he had no control over it.
He’s so beautiful.
Berke inwardly gasped. He’d never considered another man as handsome, but there was no denying it. This male’s masculine beauty was something to be admired. Praying he wasn’t making a mistake, he reached out and took the canteen.
The stranger backed away as Berke tossed the canteen into his pack.
“You’re losing a lot of blood. We need to get it stopped and cleaned,” the stranger added.
Berke narrowed his stare. He knew he needed help, but strangers were dangerous. He’d heard the tales of those who hunted other people as food. He didn’t like his odds. Two against one. They could easily overtake him, especially considering his current situation.
Could they be cannibals? 
The men did look awfully well fed. Berke was one of the best earners at the outpost and could still see some of his own ribs sticking out. I don’t have enough meat on my bones to make for food. They’d starve if they ate me.
“Where are you from?” Berke asked, looking between them. “There’s nothing around here for miles.”
The closer man smiled. “We have plenty of time to talk… while we work on that foot.”
“Ankle,” Berke corrected, swaying slightly. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
The guy cocked his head. “It looks pretty bad.”
Berke glanced down, saw the blood, and realized it was much worse than he had realized. Another wave of wooziness hit him. He lifted his stare, panic hitting him.
Calm down. Slow the heart. Slow the pumping…
He staggered a bit, the world shifting around him. His legs felt unsteady below him. The knife dropped from his hand.
The stranger raced closer, grabbing Berke as he fell.
“I’ve got you,” the man murmured as the world went sideways.
The other man moved in close, just behind them. Berke met the man’s gaze and felt a fluttering in his chest.
Who are they?
“Will he survive?” the second man asked.
“We got here just in time.”
“In time… for what?” Berke whispered.
The healer smiled at him. He lifted a hand to cup Berke’s cheek. “Sleep.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but lost the ability. Darkness took him.

READ MORE


Sunday, March 25, 2018

Sunday Spotlight - Bronwyn Heeley and Taking Control of My Werewolf

Welcome Bronwyn Heeley to Sunday Spotlight for the very first time! Bronwyn is here to share a bit from her new release Taking Control Of My Werewolf (Moonlit Wolves: Moon Struck #2)

Can a man create a new life in a town filled with werewolves?

Eamon is lost. After the loss of his husband, his life became a shell of itself. His only hope was fixing up his husband—uh, late husband’s—family home. What he didn’t expect was what he was about to find, and how it would change his life forever, if Eamon is willing to let go of the past and embrace the new life he was being given.

All Chris wanted was someone to see him, love him, but will any of that be achievable when Eamon’s destiny is more than either of them could possibly compete with?

Previously published, freshly re-written, reordered and lengthened

Series trigger warning: contains graphic violence/death, graphic sex and may have scenes depicting violence of children




OTHER BOOKS IN SERIES: Forever With My Werewolf



EXCERPT: 

Eamon Collins, Dr. Collins to those under his care, was in free-fall. His life was over in all the ways that mattered. His lover had died and he had no one to look after. It might have seemed an odd thing, but Eamon needed the stability of looking after someone to tie him to the earth. He’d been walking around like a zombie in their house, not being able to move past his own grief. The months of isolation and solitude had proven that.

His handpicked family had allowed him to see how bad it’d gotten, descending on him in a rush of mouths and limbs, packing up his bag and sitting him in his car. It wouldn’t be too bad, a few weeks out west. Fresh air, blue skies, dry heat—would be good to clear his head, and wake him up. He hadn’t been hard to persuade, he’d understood on a professional level, but understanding and getting yourself back into the land of the living weren’t easy, he knew; he’d helped a lot of people over the span of his career come to terms with their own loss.

The adventure was taking him to a property owned by Patrick, his husband—late husband—who had left him everything he owned, which had been a lot more than Patrick had ever divulged. It had been another step into oblivion to realise things had been kept from him. Eamon had struggled with the fact that Patrick’s family hadn’t all turned their backs, like Eamon had thought. He’d always trod lightly over past events as he’d picked up Patrick who was crying on his parents’ front lawn, watching the first eighteen years of his life go up in flames. It had been the true beginning of them, and the ten years they’d shared together had flown from there.

With a sigh that seemed to help settle him back down, Eamon turned off the static-rambled radio and hit play on a CD. He had to concentrate on making his way down Victoria Pass, memories of times before when he and Patrick had hit the open road creeping in. Patrick had been a weekend driver, he loved settling into the car seat, passenger’s or driver’s, it didn’t matter, and heading off on an adventure. Nothing but the blacktop roads, higher speeds, with hours at their disposal. Eamon couldn’t help smiling at the memories. They’d had so many good years together, so many good memories they ate at Eamon’s heart. He didn’t know if they made him happy or sad. Didn’t know if the pain would ever go away. Wasn’t sure he ever wanted them to.

“Turn left in one hundred meters.”



AUTHOR BIO: I'll show you mine, if you'll show me yours... da da da da dum, author of LGBT+ genre romance

Serious I wanna know
Email me at beeheeley@gmail.com




Saturday, March 24, 2018

Bear Mountain Around the World!

Translations are a wondrous thing. It's been a little over a year since my first book was translated and it's started me down a very interesting path. 

Bound to Two Bears has now been translated into three languages - Spanish, German, and French - and I have been talking with another foreign publisher about rights elsewhere. 

The series has been a best seller in Germany, where the 17th book just released (and the German publisher has also contracted the rights to Project Zed and Midnight, Mississippi). Spain has been a little harder nut to crack. Their MM genre is thin, at best, and the sales have been mellow -- but there have been a handful of excited readers that have been reading along.

French was the newest one and Lié à deux Ours just released a little over a week ago. It hit #1 in France, Canada, and even the US! (There's a category for French Romance in the US, go figure.) A second one will be following in a couple of months, and hopefully the third a couple of months after that... (we shall see... the translator is awesome, and very busy because of that. Getting translations is slow work.)

There's something really cool about finding new fans on the other side of the world and getting messages and emails telling me they've enjoyed my stories. I never expected this series to grow into what it has and it boggles the mind to know how far it has come.

My readers are amazing... I'm still in awe of you all.



 

Wednesday, March 21, 2018

Bear Mountain Map

So I made something... thought some of you might be interested in taking a peek...



Lié à Deux Ours (Bear Mountain, Tome 1) par Kelex

Bear Mountain En Français 



Lié à Deux Ours 
Bear Mountain en français
Tome 1 

 Récemment quitté, Carson Davies décide que les vacances qu’il avait prévues pour sa petite amie – dans l’espoir d’arranger leur relation vacillante – sont l’escapade parfaite pour se vider la tête. Quelques jours de solitude, des randonnées le long des pittoresques Bear Mountains correspondent à ce qu’il pense avoir besoin pour continuer à avancer. Mais dès qu’il arrive, il est choqué par la réaction sensuelle qu’il éprouve vis-à-vis des deux propriétaires… des deux propriétaires masculins. Carson n’a jamais été attiré par un homme, il lutte donc contre le sentiment bec et ongles. 

Royce et Jared reconnaissent leur compagnon dès qu’il franchit la porte du chalet. Ils sont prêts à revendiquer ce qui leur appartient, mais savent qu’ils doivent se montrer prudents. L’homme en question se voit comme hétéro, mais c’est le dernier de leurs problèmes. Ils devront lui révéler sa véritable nature, ainsi que leur ours intérieur, espérant que cela ne le renverra pas chez lui. 

 Les métamorphes n’ont que trois jours avant que l’humain rentre chez lui. Dans un si court laps de temps, ils devront prouver à Carson à quel point ils sont liés et espérer qu’ils pourront le séduire et le convaincre de s’abandonner.


Sunday, March 18, 2018

Sunday Spotlight - Ezra Dawn and Seeking Rayne




Welcome Ezra Dawn for the first time to #SundaySpotlight. She's here to share a bit about her new release, Seeking Rayne (Risqué Business, Book Two) Seeking Rayne is a short story standalone, but can be read as part of the series.



Rayne
Three and a half years ago, Rayne Sinclair met the love of his life. His fated mate. His human mate. Deciding that dating and wooing was the best course of action before revealing his furry self, Rayne asked Ian on a date. He never expected Ian to cheat. Never expected the pain of that betrayal to be so excruciating. It’s been three years since that day and Rayne hasn’t seen or spoken to Ian once.

Ian
Ian McCormick has been in love with the same man since the day they met three and a half years ago. After a day of celebrating with a very good friend, he wakes up to find that his boyfriend has disappeared. Leaving Ian to wonder exactly what he did to make Rayne go. When his friend explains exactly what happened Ian finally realizes what his lover must’ve thought. It’s been three years since then and Ian has spent each of them searching for Rayne. The police won’t help. His friends think he should move on. After three years of hanging on Ian is starting to think they might be right.

Together
Rayne is a completely different person now than he was three years ago. Ian is taking steps to move on but Fate has other plans. When these two suddenly meet again after three years of misery can they pick up the pieces of their relationship or will it remain lost?


Warning: Contains graphic sexual content, Man on Man action, a misunderstanding involving cheating, and explicit language. Not recommended for those under the age of 18.






Prologue


Three and a half years ago I met the love of my life in the form of a human man named Ian. When I first caught the man’s scent I knew he was meant to be mine. We were meant for each other. Blessed by fate. The problem? Explaining the paranormal world to a human mate isn’t always easy. It was with that thought in mind I decided to ask Ian on a date. Woo him before revealing I could shift into an Arctic Wolf at will. I never thought he’d betray me. Never thought he’d break my heart.

I remember what happened like it was yesterday. My class ended early because my professor got food poisoning and needed to leave. So, I was all set to go home and pick up Ian for a romantic evening. I’d been putting off telling him about my furry side for months but it was finally time to come clean. I didn’t expect to walk in on him cuddled up in bed with his best friend and from what I could see both were at least half naked. The position was so intimate but so wrong at the same time and it ripped my heart out.

Without questioning anything, I raced around the room as quietly as possible, packed what I could and ran. Looking back on it now, I probably should’ve stayed and at least gotten an explanation but the pain was too much to bear and I couldn’t face it.

The wolf in me wanted to rage, and fight for what’s ours but with Ian clueless as to what I am and the gravity of what he’d done there was no point in exposing myself. My human half saw it for what it was, a mating doomed to fail. In time, I suppose I’ll get over it, and maybe fate will see fit to grant me another mate. One that isn’t human this time. I’d rather not fall in love only to find out they never felt the pull at all. I suppose that’s just wishful thinking on my part. It’s been three years since I left Ian and I still feel the pain as if it were yesterday. Still miss him. Still love him. Gods, living without a fated mate sucks.



Chapter One


“Hiya, hot stuff!”

With a smile, I turn from my locker to find my best friend standing behind me. His stage name is Smalls because he’s so short but his real name is Grayson. We met when I started working two years ago and hit it off. After leaving Ian, I wanted to make sure he couldn’t find me if he ever decided to look. So, over the past three years, my appearance has changed, I’m no longer pursuing a degree to teach art, and I work two jobs. Tattoo artist by day, stripper by night. At first tattooing was just a hobby to help put myself through college but after everything that’s happened, I’ve switched to doing it full time. Stripping came into play after the first year when I realized I was spending too many nights alone, wallowing. I couldn’t continue living like that so I went out and found myself another job to fill my time. It’s fun, I make good money, and I’ve gained a few friends. It makes coping a bit easier.

Grinning, I engulf Grayson in a hug and say, “What are you doing here? I thought it was your night off.”

“I got called to fill in for Phoenix. Poor thing accidently set his kitchen on fire and has to talk to a bunch of people. Fire investigators, police, etcetera.”

“That’s awful. I hope he’s okay.”

“Oh yeah, he’s fine. Just pissed he has to miss work because a ton of people want to talk to him about how or why he set his kitchen on fire. As if he did it on purpose. The nerve of some people I swear.”

I shrug and say, “Well, that’s how it is sometimes I guess. They take one look at you and automatically assume the worst. Granted not all of them are like that but some are just assholes and don’t care either way.”

He nods. “I totally get what you mean. So, what routine are you doing tonight?”

“They put me last on the set list so I’m going with Raining.”

He laughs. “Oh, the audience is going to love that.”

I laugh with him. PJ our announcer sticks his head through the curtain leading to the stage and shouts, “Smalls! You’re on in five!”

Grayson gives me a hug and says, “Well that’s my cue. See you later hot stuff!”

He saunters off and I try not to laugh because of the outfit he’s got on. Grayson is short so he likes to dance in heels that other people would break their necks in if they even attempted half the shit he does. The ones he’s wearing now are at least nine inches high, hot pink, and match his outfit that can only be described as a glitter bomb. Pretty sure he’s the only one here who can pull off that look.

After making sure my personal items are secured in my locker, I take my costume bag and head for the dressing rooms.



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