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Monday, May 30, 2016

Annabeth Albert's "Beta Test" Blog Tour

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Beta Test 
(#gaymers #2)
by Annabeth Albert

Player vs. Player. Fight!

Brilliant graphic designer Ravi Tandel is ahead of the game—he's just been asked to present a top secret project at a huge conference in Seattle. All systems are go…until he learns his buttoned-up office nemesis is coming along for the ride.

Tristan Jones isn't really the gamer type, but he knows the back end of the video game business inside out. Together, he and Ravi will give an awesome presentation. If they survive the cross-country trip first.

Tossed together in close quarters, Ravi's shocked to see Tristan's sexy, softer side emerge from such a conservative shell. He's less shocked to learn his handsome colleague's prominent family would never support an out-and-proud son. But Ravi didn't struggle through his own coming out to hide who he is now. To be together, Tristan will have to push past his fear and ultimately decide: Does he want a future with Ravi? Or is it game over before they've even begun?

Available for purchase at 



Chapter One
Tristan read the manual. Actually, to be precise, he read the Christopher Exploration Industries Employee Handbook for the second time as he sat in the conference room the receptionist had shown him to. The manual had a big space volcano logo on it, along with a small subheading proclaiming “home of Space Villager,” the flagship online role-playing game the company developed here at its Santa Monica headquarters.
He’d read the PDF the HR person had sent over a week ago, and now he was reading the paper copy while waiting for his orientation to begin. PDF was great, but paper meant he could use his new highlighter. He might be done with grad school, but there was something soothing about underlining the most important bits of information. It made him feel ready on a day when his muscles jangled with nervous energy. Focusing on highlighting kept his racing pulse at a manageable level. Even though he’d been through the intensive interview process and had stacks of research on the company littering his living room, he still couldn’t believe they’d picked him to work on the game the whole tech industry was buzzing about.
Even the conference room was impressively techno-hip with screens on almost every wall, including a huge one that took up almost the entire front of the room, like a movie screen. A massive oak table occupied the middle of the room, surrounded by space-age seats that looked like the progeny of a high-end movie theater and a Mercedes. The room itself was weirdly dim with track lighting glinting off all the reflective surfaces. Tristan felt a bit like he’d wandered onto a sci-fi movie set. Any minute now, a dictator would emerge through a hidden panel and start revealing the invasion plans to his minions.
Instead of some dark lord, however, the perky brunette receptionist poked her head into the room.
“And here’s our other new employee! Tristan, meet Ravi Tandel. He’s a graphic designer, and you guys will be going through orientation together.” She opened the door wider and a guy in his midtwenties sauntered in. And yes, sauntered was 100 percent the right word. The guy wore lime-green skinny jeans, a cream sweater, and a lime-and-cream scarf draped more artfully than the valances in Tristan’s mother’s living room. He had poofy Elvis-esque hair, and when he moved it was with an effortless I-own-this-room confidence and grace.
And something about him made Tristan feel about as cool and significant as yesterday’s coffee grounds.
“Hey.” Ravi held out his hand.
“Hiiii—whoa!” As Tristan tried to stand, he somehow tripped a mechanism in the chair, tipping precariously backward, almost flat, and hey, there was a screen on the ceiling too, but whoops, trying to sit up catapulted the whole contraption forward, dropping him in a heap right at Ravi’s feet. They were nice feet, but clad in ridiculous-looking purple loafers with no socks.
“You okay?” Ravi hauled him up, his grip firm and sure. He was stronger than his thin frame would suggest, and he was actually an inch or two taller than Tristan.
“I’m fine, thanks.” Tristan brushed his navy dress pants off before retreating back to a different chair, one hopefully less out to get him. He pulled his laptop case and handbook over to the new spot.
“I’ll let you guys chat while you wait for Rex, the office manager. Anyone need a coffee?” the receptionist asked. Her eyes twinkled and her tight facial muscles said she was having a hard time not laughing at Tristan.
I would be too.
“I’d love one, if it’s not too much trouble. Black, one sugar.” Ravi’s voice was just as polished as the rest of him, deep and melodic with a hint of the sort of East Coast accent Tristan associated with lawyer friends of his mother’s.
“You?” The receptionist looked expectantly at Tristan.
“Black is fine.” Or at least it would be today. In reality, he drowned coffee under gallons of cream and sugar, and on rare occasions he let himself order one of those blended things. But today he was out to fit in, not make waves, and prove that he could be a team player. And liking his coffee closer to candy was just one of the things he wasn’t sharing with his new coworkers.
“So what do you do?” Ravi took a chair across from Tristan, pushing it back from the table and reclining it to the perfect conversational angle, no thrashing like a trout on a line required from him.
“I’m going to be in the marketing department. Brand management.”
“This your first job in the software industry?” Ravi’s dark eyes swept over him as if he found Tristan’s new white shirt, dress pants and microchip tie somehow lacking. That last bit had been a touch of whimsy, a graduation gift from a friend who’d heard about his job, and a nod to the fact that the hiring manager said this was a fun office. But the way Ravi’s eyes were sparkling had Tristan reconsidering every wardrobe choice.
“No,” Tristan said, because technically it was his first job anywhere where he didn’t have intern after his name.
Ravi shrugged like he didn’t quite believe Tristan. “You’re young,” he pronounced.
“I’m twenty-four.” Tristan tried to sit up straighter without accidentally tripping the chair’s desire to hurl him toward Ravi.
Or maybe that’s just you.
And he couldn’t be that much younger than Ravi, who looked to be in his midtwenties as well, maybe a couple of years older. But Ravi simply shook his head like he couldn’t fathom Tristan being old enough to drive, let alone work here. Tristan knew it was his face—pale skin, blue eyes, blond hair, and he looked like he never needed to shave, even if he totally did.
“Man, I needed this.” Ravi smiled as the receptionist came back in with two steaming cups. “I swear I’m still fighting a hangover from New Year’s.”
Tristan felt his eyes go wide, and he looked to the receptionist to see if she was equally horrified. But she laughed like Ravi was a man in one of those campaigns for expensive whiskey—the sort of guy people couldn’t wait to have a drink with, and the sort they’d let get away with all sorts of bad behavior because he was so interesting.
And hot.
Okay, that too, but hot and stupid because really, what kind of guy admitted to having a hangover on his first day at a new job? Not to mention, New Years was almost two weeks ago.
“Rex is on a call with the Austin office, but he should be right in.” The receptionist backed out of the room, eyes lingering on Ravi. And seriously, the guy wasn’t that hot, even if he did look as if he belonged on the cover of one of those romances Tristan’s old nanny used to sneak.
Okay, maybe he was, but Tristan wasn’t supposed to be noticing such things at work. He forced himself to return to his highlighting.
“Hey, that’s a great idea.” Ravi dug out a bright green pen from his pants pocket that perfectly coordinated with his outfit. He opened his handbook, only he didn’t start underlining and taking notes in the margins like Tristan. No, he used the blank inside cover to sketch an entire intergalactic war, complete with exploding meteors and futuristic ships darting between planets. Tristan found himself hypnotized as the drawing unfolded over the course of their wait. Ravi’s pen flew over the page, first doing rough outlines of elements, then adding more and more detail. Unlike Tristan, who kept glancing up at the clock, Ravi seemed totally immersed in his drawing, but he would have to hide that art fast when—
“So sorry I was delayed. I’m Rex.” A short, portly man bustled into the room. Here was the dictator Tristan had been waiting for, complete with commanding voice and thinning black hair and…dragon slippers. Tristan glanced down a second time.
Yes, the man seriously was wearing plush fire-breathing dragons on his feet.
“Ooooh! What are you drawing?” Rex stepped around him to get a closer look at Ravi’s drawing. He picked up the manual, turning it one way then another. “Oh my God. This is fucking fabulous. Wait until Robert sees what you can do. And our fans are going to love your style. I can’t wait to get you on a podcast.”
Oh. My. God. Indeed.
Tristan had woke up an hour early to iron, studied the manual like there would be a final exam on it, and this guy who was nursing a hangover while defacing the handbook got all the attention? Stop being a whiny toddler. Not their fault you’re still shocked they even picked you.
“Can’t wait.” Ravi beamed at Rex. Damn. The guy really did have a million-dollar smile. But still, Tristan clenched his fists. There was no fairness in the world.
“In fact, I think he’s in today. I want to show him. He’ll get a kick out of this.” Rex motioned for Ravi to follow him, turning back to Tristan at the last moment. “We’ll be back soon.”
Crap. Mr. Cool Jeans got to meet Robert Christopher minutes after his arrival, because of course he did. No biggie. Wasn’t like the game founder was one of Tristan’s personal idols or like he had danced around his apartment when he got the job. Wasn’t Tristan’s pulse that was galloping at the thought of getting to work with the guy responsible for some of Tristan’s favorite games. And it wasn’t like Tristan was dying to gush about how the guy had practically saved Tristan’s life as a teen. That last bit was absolutely true—Robert Christopher’s games had been his salvation at a time he desperately needed it, and he’d never confess that fact.
Heck, there was so much he wasn’t sharing with his coworkers on this job that he’d had to make a list for himself, along with his list of how to conduct himself and be indispensable.
And now he could add a new item to the list: Avoid Ravi Tandel at all costs. He was simply too attractive, too confident, and too distracting.
His plan shouldn’t be too hard, right?

Knock. Knock. A knock came from the connecting door, startling Ravi into hopping off the bed.
“Tristan?” he called before unlocking the door.
“Yeah,” came the muffled reply.
“What’s up?” As he opened the door, he realized that he didn’t even have a shirt on. After his shower, he’d pulled on a pair of Star Wars lounge pants that Avani had given him on his last birthday. He wasn’t a modest guy, but this was a bit…exposed for a late-night encounter.
“Um. Not much.” Tristan stood there in ridiculous blue plaid pajamas and bare feet, hair still damp and sticking up at weird angles. The overall effect should have been one of Tristan escaping from whatever retirement compound Elmer called home, but instead Ravi found it endearing.
You’re so screwed, man.
“Not much?” Ravi raised an eyebrow. “But you knocked?”
“Um. Yeah.” Tristan scratched his neck and shuffled one foot. “My room stinks.”
“Your room stinks?” Ravi had to stop himself from laughing. As far as pretexts went, that was pretty darn lame, high-school-campout-worthy stuff.
“It really does.” Tristan gestured, and Ravi followed him in and took a deep sniff. Yeah, the room did smell pretty funky.
“O-kay.” Ravi drew the word out. “Why don’t you call the front desk? This is a pretty big place, and it’s the middle of the week. I’m sure they can find you a different room.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.” Tristan did the shuffle thing with his foot again. “Never mind.”
“Tris.” Ravi grabbed Tristan’s shoulders when he tried to turn away, forced him to look at him. “What’s really up?”
“Nothing. I was thinking we could watch a movie in your room, but you’re right, I should call for a new room.”
“That’s what you want? To hang out with me?” Ravi took a step forward, not dropping his hands from Tristan’s shoulders. He could feel his warmth even through the soft blue cotton. Their bodies were mere inches apart now. Tristan’s gaze went straight to Ravi’s mouth before he licked his own lips.
Oh fuck. Killing me, Tris, you really are.
“I’ve got a movie on,” Ravi said softly, making no move toward his room or to step away from Tristan. There were a thousand reasons why he needed to step away, get Tristan to call for a new room, and stop the energy arcing between them, yet he couldn’t seem to find the one that would get his feet to move.
“Yeah.” Tristan’s exhale ghosted across Ravi’s face. His eyes continued to look as though they had a tractor beam on Ravi’s mouth. “That’s good.”
“I’ve got no clue what the movie is.” Ravi laughed shakily.
“That’s okay.” Tristan moved, subtly leaning forward before retreating a millimeter, like he wasn’t quite sure how to close the gap between them.
Ravi knew, but there were a whole host of reasons why he should retreat and lock the door behind him, put a hotel’s worth of distance between himself and temptation. But he didn’t move back, instead doing what Tristan was shuffling toward and closed the distance between them, claiming Tristan’s mouth like he’d been obsessing about for two days now.
Okay, okay, perhaps a bit longer than that, if he were honest with himself. Tristan was fussy and prissy and so not Ravi’s type, except he was cute and endearing and eager to please and…
Oh fuck it. They were so doing this thing.
Ravi’s lips slid softly over Tristan’s, hands coming up to cup Tristan’s face. His skin was smooth and slightly slippery, as if he’d shaved earlier. Tristan gave a little sigh as their lips collided, a happy noise that went straight to Ravi’s dick. Tristan tasted like a minty memory from Ravi’s teen years, a simple, classic taste that totally fit with the rest of Tristan’s persona.
And the way they fit together felt like a different kind of memory—like they’d done this before and yet never before in the same instant. Brand-new and achingly familiar. And far, far too sweet for Ravi’s blood. 

The Gaymers Series

Status Update 
(#gaymers #1)

Available for purchase at 


About The Author

Annabeth Albert grew up sneaking romance novels under the bed covers. Now, she devours all subgenres of romance out in the open—no flashlights required! When she’s not adding to her keeper shelf, she’s a multi-published Pacific Northwest romance writer.

Emotionally complex, sexy, and funny stories are her favorites both to read and to write. Annabeth loves finding happy endings for a variety of pairings and is a passionate gay rights supporter.  In between searching out dark heroes to redeem, she works a rewarding day job and wrangles two children.

You can find Annabeth at 



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Friday, May 20, 2016

Cover Reveal Blitz: Risk by Dannika Dark

(A Mageri World Novel)
By Dannika Dark

Simon Hunt is a masterful Mage when it comes to knives, solving puzzles, and women. But when a Mageri Councilman asks for a personal favor, his skills are put to the test. He reluctantly accepts the impossible job of training a young Learner who is beyond anyone’s help. She’s beautiful, cunning, and disabled. If he succeeds, he’ll receive a hefty paycheck. But if he fails, more is at stake than merely his reputation.

A compelling tale about two lost souls with dark secrets and the unique connection they share. Simon is her last hope… and perhaps she is his.

What happens when a game of chance becomes a fight for survival?

Release Date
August 16, 2016

Pre-order Available at 

About the Author

Dannika Dark is the USA Today Bestselling Author of Urban Fantasy Romance and Paranormal Romance. Her books have sold more than 1 million copies worldwide, and she is a 2016 Audie Awards finalist. 

Dannika was born on a military base in the U.S. and spent her youth traveling abroad. She developed an interest writing poetry and song lyrics early on, eventually gravitating toward a job that involved writing procedural training documentation. In her spare time, she wrote novels before she decided to pursue a career in publishing.

In addition to writing about supernatural worlds, Dannika is passionate about graphic design and creates all her own covers and series art. When not writing, she enjoys indie music, movies, reading, Tex-Mex, strawberry daiquiris, heaps of chocolate, and unleashing her dark side.

All of her published books to date are written in the same universe and contain material suitable for adults only.

"For me, writing is all about blending genres to break out of the confines of predictability, but it's what I love to do."


You can find Dannika at 


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Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Release Day Blitz: Dark Alpha’s Demand by Donna Grant

Dark Alpha’s Demand 
(Reaper Series, #3)
by Donna Grant


There is no escaping a Reaper. I am an elite assassin, part of a brotherhood that only answers to Death. And when Death says your time is up, I am coming for you…

My secret is an ancient one. I exist to exact vengeance on the Fae for their wrongs per Death’s orders. When I’m sent to one of the most treacherous, deceitful places on any realm – the court of the Light Queen – as a spy, things awry. Neve captured my soul with just a look from her seductive gaze. She is who I want, who I crave…who I hunger for. But someone has set out to kill her – and expose me. I’ll destroy any man – human or Fae – who brings harm to her, for she is the light my soul can’t risk losing…

Available for purchase at 



The Light Fae. As a race, they were supposed to be all about good and decency, but there wasn’t a shred of either emotion within the walls of Usaeil’s castle.

Neve observed Talin examining everything around him - from the castle, the Fae walking outside, the trees, and even the sky. His pale silver eyes missed nothing. She wondered what he saw, and how he catalogued things.

His long, black hair had the barest hint of a wave to it as it hung to the shoulders of his pale blue shirt. He shoved one side behind an ear and tilted his head as if listening.

She didn’t think he realized she was still beside him, not that she minded. It gave her a chance to fill her gaze with his sharply chiseled features.

The hard planes of his jaw and chin were in direct contrast to his wide lips and thick eyelashes. It was difficult to look at Talin and notice anything but those beautiful eyes.

Except when she did look down, she saw a body that made her hands itch to touch him. His shirt barely contained wide shoulders that tapered to narrow hips where navy pants encased his legs. Every muscle was honed and defined.

As eye-catching as Talin’s personal package was, it didn’t hold a candle to what drew her interest – his bearing. The way he stood, walked, talked.

In a castle full of Light who believed themselves above others, the only one who had the attitude and demeanor to carry it off was Talin. 

Cael watched Talin leave the room. He’d seen firsthand what could happen to a Reaper who fell in love with a Fae. Bran had destroyed the Reapers from the inside out because of it.

“You’re worried about him,” Erith said, breaking into his thoughts.

Cael turned his head to her at her statement. “I worry about all my men.”

“They’re not Bran.”

“I didn’t think Bran was capable of killing us, but I was wrong.”

Erith arched a black brow. “So you question your judgment?”

“You choose the Fae to be Reapers.”

Erith’s eyes widened before she looked at him with something akin to admiration. “So you question my judgment.”

Cael squeezed his eyes shut a moment. It hadn’t been a question. “You chose each of us because we were betrayed in some way that brought about our deaths. We’re all fighters.”


“There is no but. It’s a simple fact. We fight for justice, for you, and for the continuation of things as they should be.”

She tilted her head to the side and regarded him, her black locks moving with her. “You’ve always had a higher sense of right and wrong than most. You aren’t hasty in your decisions, and you weigh all your options. It’s why you’re a leader. You should’ve been leader of the first group.”

“I was the newest. Theo did a good job.”

“He wasn’t you.”

Neve pushed the door open and walked into the library. A three-story room stretched endlessly before her. In the center of it all, high above them, was a dome of windows, allowing light to stream in. There were comfy chairs, sofas, and even tables one could go to.

Though she’d rather do her research in private, that wasn’t possible since she was being watched. The millions of books before her gave her pause, but just for a second.

“Reapers. Origin and facts,” she said aloud.

All around the library, small, hovering lights appeared next to the books that mentioned Reapers. Neve walked to the closest book and opened it.

Since she was being observed, Neve wasn’t going to be able to write down the things she found. It would all have to stay in her head.

She went to each and every book regarding the Reapers. Neve was shocked at just how many there were in the library, but most merely mentioned them as a legend.

Just as she was about to give up, Neve saw something within a small book titled The Truth of Legends. Within the pages, she learned that the Reapers were real.

The volume went on to tell her that Reapers weren’t around to ensure a Fae didn’t turn Dark. Though it never told her exactly what a Reaper did, the author was explicitly clear that they should be avoided at all costs because they were highly dangerous.

Neve closed the book and moved on. Twenty books later, she ran across another obscure text that mentioned the Reapers as being harbingers of Death. This author surmised the Reapers were not to be feared, but accepted as part of Fae culture.

She looked at the book and how pristine the pages were. It was at least a million years old, but no one had read it.

Neve spent another hour finishing off the rest of the books containing anything about Reapers. The last book held the most information, however. On the back cover, in the lower left-hand corner was the same symbol painted on the wall.

She opened the book, flipping through pages and searching for information on Reapers. Then the light coming from the dome above struck a page. And she saw the faint watermark of the symbol once more. It was on the upper inner corner and was so small it would be missed unless someone knew what they were looking for.

If only she’d read this one first, she could’ve saved herself a lot of time.

On the same page as the watermark, she found a poem.

The seven there are, warriors all.
Do not do wrong or their blade will fall.
Their appearances shrouded.
Their approach, clouded.
Against evil they fight.
Power and magic are their might.
They serve only one.
If you expose their identity - run.
Secrecy is their defense.
If the truth escapes, Death will commence.

Dark Alpha's Demand Trailer

The Reapers Series

Reaper #1

Available for purchase at 


Reaper #2

Available for purchase at 


About the Author

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Donna Grant has been praised for her "totally addictive" and "unique and sensual" stories. Her latest acclaimed series, Dark Kings, features a thrilling combination of dragons, Fae, and immortal Highlanders who are dark, dangerous, and irresistible. She lives with her two children and an assortment of animals in Texas.

You can find Donna at 



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