I may have missed the mark on being able to do this with my whole backlist, but, well, it just came to mind now, so this is how I’m going to bring up my backlist through the years. Just as a reminder. And also allows me to realise who I have accomplished.
As of today it’s been a year since I published Gotta Start Somewhere
It’s a quick, 6K contemporary erotic romance, which was a fun little write that I thought everyone would love to read. It’s FREE
i have actually added a prologue to the whole thing, just something that I could add that people would comment on in there reviews. I’ve written it for a paperback promotional thing April Kelley and I are putting together and will come out in October.
Though as it’s a year since the day I thought, for those who don’t know or haven’t read the story yet, here’s a quick excerpt, for those who have here’s the new piece to the whole story.
Sean has always been a big boy, hairy, manly, but that’s what’s on the outside.
For the men who just want Sean for his body, it was not what was on the inside that mattered: it was the outside package that counted most.
Set up by his mates, Sean entered the horrors of a nightclub but he soon realises it could be the best lost bet of his life.
James and his long-term partner have finally broken up, and suddenly all James can think about is going for the man he’s wanted since their first meeting.
But does James want him for Sean or to make himself better after a breakup
Never place a bet when everyone in the room wants you to lose.
Sean sat around a table, drinks near, poured down his throat. And yeah, it might have been his own hand doing the pouring, but his mates were keeping him well lubricated, which should have been his first clue that things weren’t going to be going in his favour. Still, Sean was too sloshed to care at this point. Or maybe it was that he knew he was in for some pain from the moment he stepped foot into the house, and there was no way he was going to deal with it sober.
“Let’s play bullshit,” Rolf said a little too excitedly for Sean’s liking, so he picked up his cup and downed the rest of the contents.
Heaving himself up off the chair, Sean went and got himself another drink as the rest of the guys in the group got the cards set up.
Bullshit wasn’t a particular hard game to play, hell, it wasn’t a particular interesting one either. What it was, was the game his arsehole of friends played whenever ever they wanted something and they knew they only way to get it was by making someone lose.
Sean had done this to them a time or two, he knew the drill, the bet would be put down and the person would fall for it every time.
Pride was predictable around a bunch of drunken fuckers.
Resting his hands on the middle bench of the kitchen at Ben’s house, Sean listened to the soft mumbles around him, and contemplated his own doom.
He saw the signs—hell, he’d already signed up for the prize. If he lost bullshit he’d be dressed as a leprechaun and going out on the town.
Shit. He knew a setup when he walked into one, unfortunately it was after the bet had been placed not before.
Fuck, he hated St Patricks day. At least he did at this second, because of a bet that he was sure he was going to lose, and a night that was going to go from horrible to worse.
He hated going out.
Sean looked around himself, trying to work out what he wanted to drink first and came across a nearly full bottle of Jack Daniel’s—that’ll fucking do. He picked up the bottle unscrewed the lid and drank down a mouthful, only a slight wince shifted his shoulders as the liquid splashed into his mouth and burnt down his throat.
“Come on Sean, can’t play without you.”
“Sure you can,” Sean muttered, but straightened up, took another heavy glop and went back out into the lounge room determine not to lose this fucking bet.
the 2nd edition wont be coming to an e-book near you until October 2015