Friday, December 8, 2023

Spotlight-Excerpt & Giveaway: UGLY BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE by CJ Bedell (The Ugly Beautiful Series #1)

Ugly Beautiful People

by CJ Bedell 

Publisher: Next Chapter Publishing 

Cover Artist: Lordan June Pinote 

Release Date: August 31, 2023

Genres: Adult LGBTQ Thriller (3 out of 5 point of view characters are bisexual)

Themes: Coming out, Self-acceptance, finding yourself, death, grief, loss

Heat Rating:  3 flames

Length: 59 000 words/249 pages

The book stands alone, but it is intended to be the first book in a trilogy.

It ends on a small cliffhanger. Most of the plot points that happen in Book 1 are wrapped up, though.


Buy Links

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  |  B & N  |  Kobo

Welcome to Crescent Hills where beauty only runs so deep. Scandal lurks just below the surface behind the McMansions, designer clothes, and fancy cars. And a death will bring the lies, secrets, and betrayals to a boil.


Welcome to Crescent Hills, where beauty only runs so deep. Scandal lurks below the surface behind the McMansions, designer clothes, and fancy cars. When the town is shaken by the disappearance of journalist Ivy Fields, whispers of betrayal and intrigue begin to unravel the threads binding its elite residents.

Audrey, haunted by her own past, is determined to unveil the truth behind Ivy's disappearance, hoping to find closure she never received. Amidst this, Marcia grapples with the confines of her seemingly perfect marriage, leading her down a dangerous path. At the same time, a young Ben navigates the complexities of love, friendship, and societal expectations. Meanwhile, Cassandra's life gets disrupted by a ghost from her past.

As Crescent Hills residents confront their own dilemmas, the shadow of Ivy's disappearance looms large. For behind every beautiful façade, there are secrets yearning to be exposed, and as they say, the past always finds a way to catch up.


Birds screeched when Audrey opened her eyes. She yawned, then stretched. Her back hairs stuck up. Audrey might’ve been lying on the seating of the pontoon boat, but black no longer veiled the sky. Instead, sunlight beamed from the cloudless sky. 

Audrey scanned the boat. Ivy was gone. 

Dread filled Audrey’s insides—she couldn’t think of one logical explanation as to why Ivy would no longer be on the boat. Audrey did the only thing she could and leaned up against the edge of the boat and peered into the water. No sign of Ivy. 

Something vibrated from her jean’s right pocket and she whipped out her iPhone. Sawyer was calling her. “Hello?” Audrey asked. 

“I wanted to see how you were doing this morning.” Sawyer chuckled. “And don’t worry. I’m not mad you decided to have a fun night with Ivy. Just glad Ivy texted me about you staying over at her place. Most people wouldn’t be so courteous.” 

“I’m still on the boat,” Audrey blurted. “And Ivy is nowhere to be found.” 

“Come again?”
“We never went back to shore and had dinner.”
“How much did you drink last night?”
“Just one gin and tonic.”

A folded piece of paper on the driver’s seat of the boat caught Audrey’s attention, and she rushed over to it. “I’m sorry, but I’ve gotta go,” she said. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.” 

Audrey pressed END before shoving her iPhone back into her pocket. Then, she unfolded the note and read it. 

Dear Audrey,
I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but I’ve been very unhappy 

with my life for a long time, and I’ve decided to end my life.

I know my suicide will probably come as a shock to you. However, 

please always think of me fondly. 



Audrey crumbled the note and it fell onto the floor of the boat. After that, she screamed. Tragedies were supposed to be something that she watched on the news, not witnessed first- hand. But no explanation was necessary about how cruel life was and the universe often had a twisted sense of humor. 

Tears welled in Audrey’s eyes. Nothing could’ve prepared her for this moment, because she wanted to cry. And cry. And cry. Ivy couldn’t be dead; she was only thirty-seven. So, she still had a little more than half her life left. 

Ivy was in trouble and Audrey hadn’t seen the signs. So, 

Audrey’d never forgive herself for Ivy’s suicide. Audrey had failed Ivy, and she couldn’t fathom how she’d continue with life. 

Audrey’s throat tightened. Perhaps Ivy’s death was only meant to resemble a suicide and was really murder. There was a reason people always touted the saying about life being stranger than fiction. Audrey shook her head. Yeah, that had to have been it. Ivy couldn’t have been desperate enough to commit suicide. 

The only thing Audrey was certain of was that Ivy was nowhere to be found. And that was why she’d get to the bottom of Ivy’s death. Whether someone murdered Ivy or Ivy actually committed suicide, there had to be more to the story. 

About the Author  

Chris Bedell is the author of over a dozen novels. He also graduated with a BA in Creative Writing from Fairleigh Dickinson University in 2016.

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Cover Reveal & Excerpt: IN LOVE AND DEATH by Aldrea Alien (Spellster and the Hound)

In Love and Death 

(Spellster and the Hound)

by Aldrea Alien

Cover Artist: Maria Arteta

Release Date: 7th Nov 2024

Genres: MM Bi-awakening Fantasy Romance

Tropes: Hurt/Comfort, Forced proximity, Forbidden love, Mage/Mage Hunter, Falling for the first time/Learning to love again, Fish out of water, Sex magic

Themes: Grief, Self-acceptance, Healthy vs toxic relationship.

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length:  270 000 words

It is part of the Spellster and the Hound series and ends on a cliffhanger.


Pre-Order Buy Links

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

In one day, Dylan’s whole life was destroyed. 

In one night, he may have found the beginnings of a new one.


Still grappling with the loss of his home, Dylan has no choice but to head for Wintervale. His one solace is in travelling the same direction taken by the enemy. But the truth behind the attack on the spellster tower suggests things aren’t as clear-cut and the enemy may well be closer than they thought.

Crossing the kingdom also means remaining in the presence of Tracker, the King’s Hound who Dylan’s repressed desire refuses to let out of his head. The man’s gentle protectiveness, coupled with his flirting, certainly doesn’t help. It taunts him with ideas of the night they shared in the tower becoming something more, a thought that is no less ridiculous than remaining unleashed.

After all, it’s a hound’s job to escort or kill spellsters. They do not disobey orders. They do not falter. And they do not fall. Especially not in love.


“I thought I knew my role in the world,” Dylan confessed. “Thought I had survived the ambush because it was my fate to return home, but there’s nothing left. No home. No friends. No life. So… why was I spared?”

Why? Tracker knew that question well. The memory of it lay cloaked in the gloom of the Pit, where a sallow flickering light danced upon broken and battered bodies. Even after all these years, he recalled how thickly the tang of human blood sat on his tongue. How the only sounds over his ragged breath were the moans of air escaping the dead, yet the loudest stunned silence of the witnesses screamed the loudest, echoing in his mind for years after.

The knowledge that he should’ve been the one to die that day.

A surprising outcome. That was what their mistress had called his survival. Unexpected and problematic. She had him sent away. Officially, to be trained in seduction, but he knew it was to have little hopes like love and family literally screwed out of him.

He’d learnt different lessons. Seduction, yes—difficult not to when it was a requirement to remain working in the brothel’s upper tiers—but also compassion. They couldn’t replace the family he had lost to Hunk’s betrayal, but The Gilded Lily had offered a type of kinship. Without it, he wasn’t certain he would’ve survived the first year. 

And if he had died? What would it have been altered? Which lives would’ve been saved or lost? The spellster protected by an entire mercenary company? The elven woman who had spent decades feeding on the nearby village? The countless young spellsters and would-be hounds he had aided in smuggling into Dvärghem?

And Dylan’s fate?

He bumped the spellster’s arm with a shoulder, hoping that gentle contact was enough to get the man’s attention without startling him. “I am no priest, but if I remember my childhood teachings correctly, the gods do not control how our lives play out, they merely offer alternative paths. Everything else is our choice.”

Dylan remained silent for some time. At first, Tracker thought he hadn’t been heard, then the man spoke.

“My choices are responsible for my friends dying?”

“I did not say that and this is the last time you will speak such a lie. No choice you could possibly make would have led to what happened. That blame lies squarely on another’s shoulders.” Who had made that decision was an answer Tracker didn’t currently possess, but he was going to find out. And once he did, not a thing would stop him from dealing out the ultimate consequence. “As for why you were spared…” He inhaled, unthinkingly breathing in the scent of magic emanating from the man. The wisps of power might have died down, but that storm-cloud aroma remained a beacon regardless. “I would say your strength played no small part there.”

Dylan’s face scrunched in confusion. “My strength? I could be the strongest spellster in the world and it wouldn’t… I couldn’t…” He ran a hand through his hair, further upsetting the already messy array. “I just feel…” His breath came out in one shuddering exhale. “I don’t know what.”

“Helpless? Hopeless?”

“Like no matter how hard I try, I’m utterly useless in keeping all the terrible things from happening.”

Tracker laid a hand on Dylan’s forearm. Even through the layers of his clothes, the man’s shaking was palpable. “There was no way you could have predicted what happened. Not the ambush, not the army, not… any other outcome.”

Dylan stared down at his hands. Unformed magic danced around his fingertips like a rolling fog. “I can’t stop thinking I should’ve done more, should’ve been more, then maybe they’d be alive.”

He drew the spellster into his arms, sensing the ghosts of pure magic crackle into something tangible as Dylan stiffened in his grasp, the flash briefer than a lightning strike.

With his ear pressed to the man’s chest, he heard the man’s heart thumping at a tempo that suggested Dylan had spent the day sprinting down the road rather than the steady pace they’d taken through the forest. “I cannot tell you it will get better, that is not something anyone can judge for you. But I am here if you need me, in whatever capacity that may be.” He didn’t know if his presence alone would be enough to help, but he hoped so.

The man’s heartbeat slowly calmed as Tracker talked. Dylan sagged into the embrace, his arms awkwardly wrapping around Tracker’s shoulders, his cheek resting atop Tracker’s head. Wetness seeped into his scalp. He ignored it and tightened his grip to match Dylan’s.

It was a while before the man unwound himself. He dried his face, giving a self-conscious little chuckle. “I really have to stop crying all over you.”

About the Author 

Aldrea Alien is a bisexual, multi-award-winning, USA Today Bestselling Author of lgbt & fantasy romance.

Hailing from New Zealand, she lives with a menagerie of animals, most of whom are convinced they're just as human as the next person. Especially the cats! By day, they wrangle the family. By night, they write.

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Thursday, December 7, 2023

New Release-Excerpt: RELEVANT HEART by Janice Jarrell (Fearless Hearts #3)

Relevant Heart 

(Fearless Heart Series, Book Three)

Author and Publisher: Janice Jarrell

Release Date:  December 6, 2023

Genre:  Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Established Gay Relationship, Ireland, Gay Attorney, Gay Psychologist

Length:  75 835 words/206 pages

Heat Rating: 4 flames

It is part of the Fearless Heart Series but can be read as a standalone.

It does not end on a cliffhanger. They get their HEA, of course!


Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK


Colin is prosecuting his first murder case, and his ability to remain emotionally detached is challenged as the circumstances surrounding the crime awaken his deep inner fear of losing someone he loves, a fear nearly realized when - only two short months ago - Joshua was kidnapped and violently assaulted.

While Colin and his team gather evidence, Joshua endeavors to create a program that will establish a bridge between veterans suffering a mental health crisis and local police. But the effort drains Joshua's already fragile health to a dangerous degree, leaving Colin frantic with worry and frustration.

Meanwhile, Nate has a play opening off-Broadway and must live in New York City for six to eight weeks... alone. It is clear from the onset that the director has the hots for Nate - or at least for his talent as a playwright - which has David pacing the floor in anxiety. He is happy for Nate and proud of his husband but worried about the director's attention and unhappy about Nate's long absence.

By the time Nate celebrates his opening night, all four friends are exhausted both emotionally and physically and ready for the healing trip to Ireland they've been planning for months.

Colin’s breathtaking ancestral home provides many magical moments, but an unexpected and terrifying incident leaves them shaken and questioning the faith in each other that has always been their foundation. Will these shattering circumstances strengthen their bonds or break their hearts and tear their relationships apart?


I feel like I’ve been a bit annoying lately.” He stared down at the sheets and huffed out a noisy breath. “I feel like ever since you were abducted, I’ve been an impossible son of a bitch to live with.”

“That’s not true either! What is wrong with you today?”

Colin arched his eyebrows, his expression one of comic confusion. “No one knows.”

“Please stop being so hard on yourself. You have not been an impossible son of a bitch to live with. Quite the contrary. I couldn’t have gotten through this without you.”

Colin quirked his mouth and huffed out a sigh. “Well, if I helped at all, I’m glad.”

“You chose me, remember?” Joshua said, cupping Colin’s cheek.

“I did,” Colin whispered. “Smartest move I ever made.”

“Well, I chose you too,” Joshua told him. “And I knew—even when I left you and ran home to Glencoe—I knew I could never love anyone else.”

Colin smiled and turned his head to press Joshua’s fingers against his lips.

“It didn’t matter that you didn’t love me,” Joshua said, his voice soft and dream-like. “It didn’t matter at all. I was bound to you, and I knew I always would be.” He pressed his lips to Colin’s, his fingers tightening in Colin’s hair. “Didn’t matter that you were mad at me,” Joshua continued. “I thought you never wanted to see me again, and even that didn’t matter.” His dark eyes met Colin’s, and they were brimming with tears. “I was yours. Even when you didn’t want me, I was yours. Even when I believed I was the only one who loved… I loved you.”

Colin pulled Joshua tight against his body, rocking him in his arms. “My darling boy, you weren’t the only one who loved! Every minute we were apart was torment for me. I was just scared that if I let you love me, I’d somehow hurt you. Or worse… lose you.”

“You can’t lose what’s already yours.” He stroked Colin’s cheek. “When I fell in love with you, I gave you part of me that you couldn’t give back even if you wanted to. A part of me that’ll always be yours. My vision of who you are as a man. My faith in who you are as a person.” He shrugged, his thumb sliding along the rise of Colin’s cheekbone. “All that will stay even if I don’t.”

Colin drew in a quick breath; his face contorted in pain. “Don’t talk like that!”

“Relax,” Joshua murmured, nestling against Colin’s chest. “To quote a famous Irishman, I’m not going anywhere!”

About the Author 

 My name is Janice Jarrell. I am a retired grandmother who lives in Seattle, WA.  I have two children and three grandsons. I’ve been writing gay romance since I was twelve years old, only back then it wasn’t called ‘gay romance’. In fact, it had no name at all. It was the fifty’s, and it was worth your life to admit to being gay, let alone confess to being a girl who constantly fantasized about relationships between gay men. Hell, I didn’t even know what a homosexual was. I lived on a farm out in the sticks in a tiny Michigan village and I’d never, to my knowledge, even heard the word. I just knew I loved the thought of boy-on-boy romance. I just knew that there was something hot going on between Tom Corbett and his Space Cadets and all those guys on ‘Combat’.

I wrote slash fanfiction for 30 years, writing over 337 stories, some as short as 100 words (a drabble), some as long as a series which was over 119,012 words. I enjoy writing my stories. I enjoyed the feedback I received from my readers. It was a creative release I’d been searching for my entire life and I blessed the Internet for leading me to this artistic oasis for my spirit.

Love’s Magic was my very first step into writing my own characters. I will always be grateful to the slash fanfiction community for nurturing the budding author until she was ready to blossom into a fully realized novelist. It’s been an amazing thing to watch the gay community’s growth over these past twenty years. My own journey has echoed theirs in many ways, and I’m grateful to all those gay activists who fought to give the gay community the rights and privileges they always deserved. Love’s Trials, Love’s Glory, and Love’s Lawyer were the second and third, and forth books in the series and all four books are available in audio format on Audible.

I’m also grateful to the gay romance community, readers, authors, publishers and promoters, who are making these, my retirement years, the most creative ones of my life. When I'm not writing, I'm traveling, walking, hiking, knitting, crocheting, and weaving.

I'm very excited about the upcoming release of my fifth contemporary gay romance novel, Relevant Law. Those of you who fell in love with Joshua and Colin in the four previous books in this series are in for a bit of angst in this latest episode. A dark and sinister cloud hangs over the University of Virginia after three students are abducted, raped and beaten. Colin works with both campus and city police to catch the perpetrator, but his hard work and effort proves futile when Joshua turns up missing!

Despite their struggles there are still many passionate, loving moments and the friends they treasure will be there to help them find their way.

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Wednesday, December 6, 2023

Spotlight-Excerpt & Giveaway: MY THREE-YEAR-OLD IS A BARBARIAN AND OTHER PARENTING PROBLEMS by Aaron Frale (Misfits of Carnt #1)

My Three-Year-Old is a Barbarian

and Other Parenting Problems

By Aaron Frale

Series: Misfits of Carnt

Release Date: August 15 2023
Cover Artist: 100Covers
Primary Plot Arc: Speculative Fiction
Genres: Fantasy
Word Count: 83k
LGBTQ+ Identities: gay, gender-fluid
Keywords/Categories: LitRPG, humor, gay, gender-fluid, fantasy, gaming, gamers


Necromantic rituals, murderous ogres, battle-scarred rangers: not a typical Saturday detention for unsuspecting teaching assistant, Petra, and her delinquent teen charges.

The Beaverton High School Breakfast Club show up for what they thought would be cleaning the locker room with a toothbrush when the morning goes horribly wrong, and they fall victim to a deadly, dark spell.

Some jerkwad moon mage shoves the consciousness of Petra’s three-year-old into the body of a musclebound barbarian, and she is transformed into a halfling. The kids get stuck as a cleric, fire mage, and other stalwarts of your typical fantasy gaming party.

Now they must quest through a land of pissed-off warriors, angry giants, a pompous vampire, and a necromancer out to kill Petra and her child.

Despite being in a world where everything threatens to shuffle off her mortal coil, the hardest part is convincing a hulked-out man that the battle axe is not a toy, the undead are not cuddly, and he should use the potty.

Buy Link



Things to Do in Detention When You're Dead

Beaverton High School, Mid-October

The final victim in the day that Instagram died was none other than 'Baking' Aiden himself, Petra’s favorite customer. The guy was a living stereotype. If the long hair and perpetually-worn Metallica T-shirt weren't enough, the guy actually drove a VW minibus. The smell of pot wafted all the way to the front door of the school when he jumped out of his vehicle. 

If the police needed to fill their minor-in-possession quota for the day, all they needed to do was follow him around. She briefly contemplated asking what Aiden had done to join the ranks of the Saturday-damned but realized any conversation would invite Urkel to join in. She dialed up her perpetual scowl and went for the front door to the school. However, it was locked, and TAs weren’t important enough for a key.

Before she could figure out what that meant for the students assembling, another car pulled up. It was her dad, Barry. The prick was in his convertible with the top down, and his girlfriend, who Petra could have sworn was going to the same community college as her, was in the front seat. Petra's three-year-old was strapped in the back. She slung her backpack off and shoved it into Urkel's hands.

"Okay, I'll watch it for—" The kid's voice trailed off as she stomped over to her father.

"What the hell are you doing, Dad?!"

"Your mother didn't tell you?" Barry asked. "Bets and I are going to rent a cabin for the weekend."

"No, I'm talking about Jonathan!" She screamed and pointed to the kid in the back seat. "You don't drive with your top down with a kid in the back!"

Her father laughed. "What? He likes it!"

Petra scrambled to remove her son from the car seat. Even though she felt way too young to be the mother of a toddler, she sometimes felt more responsible than her own father. Her dad was an idiot with an idiot girlfriend who always tried to act like the cool mother despite being the same age as his daughter.

"He's a three-year-old boy. Little boys need to laugh," Beatty 'Stupidsalot' (Schneider) said, but Petra ignored her.

As soon as Jonathan was safely in her arms and the diaper bag slung over her shoulder, her dad revved the engine.

"You make sure you feed that boy properly and get him his nap. Got to go. Check-in's at 3," he said, before speeding off.

"I guess you're not picking us up afterwards." She added under her breath. "Whatever, d*ck."

"D*ck!" Jonathan said and giggled like he had uttered the funniest thing ever.

"Don't you say that," Petra scolded her child.

"D*ck! D*ck! D*ck!" Jonathan said over and over, laughing with glee.

"That's going to make Great-grandma Petra very sad. You don't want to make her sad, do you?" Petra said, as she brought her kid towards the door. If it weren't for her namesake grandma, Petra didn't know what she would have done when she had gotten pregnant. She was lucky that nothing seemed to stop the woman. She was a babysitting machine even at 85 and had practically raised Jonathan from birth.

The worst part about being a mother with no financial stability because the school system paid TAs like serfs toiling the land was that Petra's actual parents were useless at parenting. Her mom always had her laptop on and wouldn't notice if the climbing-obsessed toddler had scaled to the top of the fridge (which he had on more than one occasion). Her dad wasn't reliable either because he was more concerned with the things a college student should be concerned about, like partying and driving fast cars. That left Grandma Petra, who was happy to watch the kid when Petra went out with her friends. (Which didn't even involve any drugs or alcohol, even though she had masterminded the scheme that facilitated the buying and selling of it. Her outings were more to feel normal for an hour or two).

The bottom line was that even though Petra would sell a bag of weed here and there and give her middle finger to the authorities whenever she could, at the end of the day, she knew it wouldn't be forever. Her grandmother would be dead, and the only person in the world at that point who would give a crap about Jonathan would be herself. That was the thought that kept her up at night.

By the time she got up to the group assembled at the school's front door, they were already talking about going home for the day. Jack grabbed the door handle and attempted to muscle it open. When it wouldn't budge, he turned to the others and said, "Oh, well, fifteen-minute rule. Right?"

"I don't think that's a thing," Urkel ventured.

Sissy said, in her high-pitched nasally voice, "Come on, Jack. Let's go. We're missing the game."

Petra rolled her eyes and said, "Everyone, just chill out. You obviously don't know how this works. You cut Saturday detention, and that's two more Saturdays for you and maybe another for speaking out of turn. Just enjoy the fact that we get to spend it outside on the grass, because the clock is already ticking."

"That's right," Mr. Jackson said from the threshold of the school, startling all of them. He must have come from inside while they weren't paying attention. While the guy was a good-looking twenty-something with longish brown hair and thick hipster glasses, there was something off about him. He looked as if One Direction had to kick one of the members out of the band for being a serial killer.

Usually, Petra would be Hot for Teacher, but there was something a little too intense about his personality. Maybe it was the way he always seemed to be staring into the distance or how he'd sometimes seem to talk to someone who wasn't there when he was alone in his room. Regardless, he was disconcerting, at least to Petra. The dumb girls had a crush on him. She was so glad to be outta this place, well kinda. But at least she could quit the job when something better came along.

That didn't stop her from attempting to get out of her obligation.

"Mr. Jackson," she said, while he ushered them into the building, "as you can see, I could not secure daycare. Do you really need a TA for today?"

Mr. Jackson ignored her. He slammed the door behind them, and Sissy jumped. He strode forward, not even bothering to turn on the lights to the school and led them down a dark hallway. Nothing but emergency lighting illuminated the way.

"Maybe this is a good opportunity to teach your son about responsibility, Miss Zaslavsky," Mr. Jackson said over his shoulder.

Petra gave him the middle finger, and Jonathan did the same while shouting with excitement. The others laughed while she tried to get her son to perform some other hand gesture. Mr. Jackson didn't seem to notice or care. He brought them further into the building until he stopped at the basement stairs.

"Can't we just clean a classroom or something?" Sissy squealed. "There are spiders down there!"

"The custodial staff keeps this place quite clean and pest-free," Mr. Jackson said. "Now, I need you to help me with a little project. It will take an hour of your time, tops. Then you'll be free to go."

"But Principal Sokol said it would be six hours!" Urkel said, and Jack kicked him. Petra was pissed too. An hour of pay wasn’t even worth the gas. Not that she paid for her own gas or had driven her own car. However, something wasn’t right, and she’d be happy to leave as soon as possible.

"I know what the principal  said, but it's my prerogative to administer punishment as I see fit," Mr. Jackson said.

"What does this project involve?" Petra asked warily.

"Nothing," Mr. Jackson replied. "You'll just need to sit there."

"Dude!" 'Baking' Aiden exclaimed. "Sign me up!"

The others nodded in agreement. Petra didn't like it, but she didn't really have a choice. It was either go in a basement with a psycho teacher or spend the following Saturday with Coach 'Justice' (Justin). His detentions always involved toothbrushes and locker room floors and the TAs always got stuck with bucket duty. At least there was safety in numbers. If Mr. 'Jack-off' pulled out a butcher knife, she could throw Urkel in the way and get to safety.

Mr. Jackson smiled in that weird staring-into-the-void way and said, "Don't worry. I'll be with you the whole time."

That was precisely why she was worried.


Aaron is giving away a $20 Amazon Gift Card with this tour:

About the Author

Good times and hope for a better future. Maybe some fun time travel adventures or interdimensional travelers. A toddler stuck in a barbarian and his mom in a halfling. "Comedy and" is my jam. When not writing, I can be found teaching, podcasting Aaron’s Horror Show, and screaming while playing guitar for the band Spiral. Life has brought my wife, myself, and my son to Montana, where we reside at the moment.

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