Pride and Prejudice meets Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell in this steamy MM historical fantasy romance!
Length: 82,000 words
Series: The Mage and His Brute, Book 1
Genre: Historical, Fantasy Romance.
Heat: 4 out of 5
He thought he had to choose between duty and desire.
But what if he could have both?
In an alternate Victorian London where magic reigns supreme, Duke Evander Ravenwood hides a dangerous secret — he is an Archmage of unparalleled power. When a brutal murder throws him into the path of Viggo Stonewall, the notorious leader of the underground information guild Nightshade, Evander’s carefully constructed world begins to unravel.
Forced into an unlikely alliance, Evander and Viggo find themselves drawn into a web of conspiracy that threatens the very fabric of their society. With tensions rising between the magical elite and the oppressed thralls, they must navigate a treacherous landscape of politics, prejudice, and forbidden desire to find a common enemy.
But in a world where magic divides the haves from the have-nots, their growing attraction could be their greatest weakness — or their most powerful weapon. Can Evander and Viggo’s burgeoning relationship withstand the storms to come? Or will the shadows of the past and the dangers of the present tear them apart?
The Mage and His Brute is an MM Fantasy Romance series of passion, power, and the unbreakable spirit of those who refuse to be subjugated. Strap in for a wild ride filled with scorching romance, breathtaking magic, and a struggle for justice that will keep you on the edge of your seat in Arcane Entanglement, Book 1!
Shaw watched Rufus leave with a conflicted expression.
“What’s the matter?” Brown asked.
“I’m wondering if I should go out there and secure one of those lost melons.”
Brown squinted. “They ain’t lost, Shaw. And what you’re describing is theft.” The alchemist glanced at Evander. “Help me out here, your Grace.”
“Mr. Brown is right, Miss Shaw,” Evander said as he wandered deeper into the alley. “You’ll get in trouble with the law.” He paused and arched an eyebrow at the forensic mage. “I’ll bring you a melon next time my cook buys some, so please refrain from accidentally nicking one of those unfortunate cantaloupes on your way out of here.”
Shaw brightened and fist-pumped the air. Brown muttered under his breath.
Something clinked against Evander’s boot. He frowned and lifted his foot out of the puddle he’d just stepped into. Water dripped into the dirty spill, spreading ripples across the brown surface.
A faint blue light flashed weakly beneath it.
Evander’s pulse quickened. He squatted and carefully moved aside the rock his boot had dislodged, exposing a small object.
Shaw and Brown joined him as he picked it up and brought it to eye level.
“What is that, your Grace?” the alchemist asked curiously.
Evander stared at the small crystal vial. It had a slim body and two tapering ends, fitting easily in the palm of his hand. A clear, sparkling azure liquid filled the hollow chamber within.
It didn’t look like the sort of thing you’d find in the East End.
Evander’s heart slammed against his ribs.
His intuition was telling him the object was a magical item. One linked to the victim.
His gaze shifted to the dead man, gauging the distance between the body’s point of impact and the location of the vial.
Was it on him when he fell?
The hairs lifted on the back of Evander’s neck in the next instant.
The air in the alley thickened with a suddenness that made his ears pop. Dread chilled him when his breath misted in front of his face.
Dark magic!
Shaw and Brown doubled over before he could shout a warning. Their hands rose to clutch their temples even as their faces contorted in expressions of pure agony, the suddenness of the invisible attack robbing them of breath and stealing their cries before they could form.
The only thing that protected Evander from the debilitating effect of the spell that incapacitated his associates was his powers.
About the Author
Ava Marie Salinger is the romance pen name of an Amazon bestselling author with a passion for writing addictive tales. Known for her action-packed and thrilling urban fantasy novels, she has expanded her repertoire with the introduction of the M/M urban fantasy romance series Fallen Messengers.
Additionally, she has penned the scorching hot contemporary M/M romance series Nights and Twilight Falls as A.M. Salinger.
When not immersed in her writing, Ava can be found curating inspiring music playlists, indulging in her love for nature, marveling at the latest gadgets, and savoring Chinese cuisine.
This Regency box set comprises the threeTown Bronze novellas by Ellie Thomas; Town Bronze, Pantaloons and Petticoats and Impeccable Credentials, with three young men, each unexpectedly finding love.
Blurb
All three novellas in Ellie Thomas’ Regency Town Bronze series are gathered together in this box set. A trio of young gentlemen, former university friends, Jasper, Barney and Julian, are set loose in Regency London to pursue carefree pleasure. Instead, they find unexpected romance and follow their individual paths to true love. Contains the stories:
Town Bronze: In 1812, Jasper Goodhew departs from sleepy Somerset for his first London season, anticipating fun, frolics and drunken debauchery. But to his consternation, he finds that a spanking from the firm hand of a particular older man sets him ablaze.
Can Jasper and Sir Mortimer Cleverly overlook their unorthodox introduction to become friends? Or is Jasper unable to resist his deepest instincts?
Pantaloons and Petticoats: In the autumn of 1812, Barney Marshall is a carefree young man, able to afford every variety of entertainment in Regency London while remaining heart-whole and fancy-free. All that changes after a passionate encounter with Rose, who by day is Ross, a clerk at Coutts Bank. Can Barney persuade Rose to trust him? And might their connection blossom into love?
Impeccable Credentials: In the autumn of 1812, aristocrat Julian Buchanan faces a crisis. He must choose between the trappings of his privileged life or the man he loves. Will Julian submit to his father’s decree and marry to further the family name? Or can he find the strength to break free?
Excerpt
Excerpt from Town Bronze
The next part of Jasper’s evening passed in patchy coherence. The older gentlemen departed with dignity almost immediately after Jasper's inadvertent blunder. With his wine glass replenished more than once by a luscious attendant, Jasper almost forgot about the impact of that searing gaze.
He was vaguely aware of some of his companions departing with young ladies. Others were content to remain, drink deep, and dandle a damsel on their laps. Minutes or hours progressed in a pleasant haze until Jasper reached the point where he had drunk himself sober.
Relatively clear-headed and suddenly thirsty, Jasper rose on remarkably steady legs to fetch a glass of water from the drinks tray on the capacious sideboard.
This gave him a clear view of the entrance hallway. The vestibule was empty, apart from the three gentlemen earlier expelled from the drawing room by an excess of wit.
The gentleman with the remarkable hair was shaking the hands of his companions with a few congenial words. In that instant of seeming sobriety, it was terribly important for Jasper to make amends. He couldn’t have fathomed if this was due to his basic good manners and general inoffensiveness when not as drunk as a wheelbarrow. Or perhaps he was prompted by the infinite unimaginable possibilities in those haunting eyes.
He entered the hall as the gentleman escorted his companions towards the exit. Jasper stood uncertainly in front of the central staircase, awaiting his opportunity. Once his companions had departed, the remaining gentleman approached a further another doorway off the hall.
The gentleman turned, raising an inquisitorial dark brow that made him no less forbidding.
During Jasper’s formal education, he occasionally got into trouble. To be fair, these incidents occurred either from absent-mindedness or when he tagged along in the wake of more exuberant and imaginative students. Any resulting discipline, a removal of privileges or corporal punishment, was a matter of course and not taken personally. His sporadic visits to the principal’s study were desultory and instantly forgotten by the disciplinarian and the culprit.
This charged confrontation was entirely different. Jasper was unnerved by the swooping feeling in his belly as he faced his unknown foe. The older man drew closer but remained silent, his face expressionless, that implacable glare holding a sense of threat and thrill.
“I think I was somewhat discourteous earlier, and I wanted to say I was sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. We were all getting rather carried away and had too much to drink. I know it was a bit much, and we were rather close to the mark concerning you and your friends. But I suppose you were young once too, eh?”
Jasper tried and failed to raise a placating smile. The gentleman didn’t move a muscle and stared at Jasper as though regarding a failed scientific experiment.
"I mean to say, I was a bit bosky, and I wasn’t thinking straight. Anyone with decent eyesight could tell that’s your natural hair. You’re nowhere near old enough to be wearing a wig. You’d have to be in your dotage. And you’re not. Naturally. No one would think you’re wearing a cauliflower of the wig variety, and it doesn’t remotely resemble an actual cauliflower. I don’t know why I said that. You have very nice hair.”
Jasper’s ramble stuttered to a stop. Without softening his expression, the gentleman said, “You were insolent.”
Jasper blinked. He suddenly grasped his opponent was slightly the taller and his lean build held latent strength. He felt paralysed, like a snake to its charmer, in thrall to the depths of that gaze.
“I think you deserve to be punished.”
Jasper gulped.
The gentleman’s voice was persuasive. “You’ve earned a good thrashing.”
In a husky tone Jasper didn’t recognise as his own, he said, “I’ll let you be the judge of that. I’ll do anything you require.”
That eyebrow rose again. A glint of humour lit those night-dark eyes.
“Anything?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.”
About the Author
Ellie Thomas lives by the sea. She comes from a teaching background and goes for long seaside walks where she daydreams about history. She is a voracious reader, especially about anything historical. She mainly writes historical gay romance.
Ellie also writes historical erotic romance as L. E. Thomas.
Supernatural Secret Service agents Owen Sharps and Calvin Springfield meet on the train to their new assignment in St. Louis, and sparks fly between them. But it's 1897, and they need to be very careful—falling in love can be dangerous for men like them.
It's their first case together, investigating mysterious disappearances—including the two agents who preceded them. Grim evidence leads them to look for a darker purpose. Old ghosts haunt the railroad line, zombie rise, signs point to ritual sacrifice, and they suspect someone is trying to open the gates of hell.
Can Calvin and Owen stop the mayhem, thwart the vampires, and find true love, or will everything go up in smoke?
Peacemaker is a high-stakes steampunk MM romance thrill ride filled with found family, paranormal Pinkertons, intrepid reporters, mysterious disappearances, nefarious land brokers, hellhounds, zombies, vengeful spirits, dark spells, absinthe magic, a ruthless vampire railroad baron and a love that won't be denied.
Before Colt and Winchester, there was Sharps & Springfield!
Carra's Review
I tend to shy away from M/M books that have a historical setting since I don’t want the added angst and drama of same-sex relationships from those time periods, but given the paranormal aspect and that this was written by one of my favorite authors, I set aside my reservations to give this a go. I’m glad I did because I really enjoyed this first story in this new series!
I love the idea of secret agencies dealing with supernatural threats, particularly in a historical setting like this. The historical aspects considering setting and time period showed the author did their research to keep things authentic. The meet-cute between Owen and Calvin was perfect, even though I did realize what was up as it was happening.
There is a lot of “is he or isn’t he” going on in each of their heads, and if you are expecting anything romantic or physical, you’ll be waiting a long while. This does serve to increase the angst level between them, and allows the story to concentrate on the case they are investigating. They each have their own contacts that help move the investigation forward, both strong female characters that I’m hoping we’ll see in subsequent books in the series. Another fantastic supporting character is Winston, who serves as their “valet”, but is also a witch, assistant, and like their version of Q (from the Bond stories). He’s one of my favorite supporting characters this author has written.
The story really grabbed my attention, and I was fully drawn in to everything that was going on. It does set things up well for the series, particularly with how the vampire baddie ends up in a down-but-not-out position…you just know he’s going to be back. And like with this author’s other series, there is a strong supporting network being established to help Calvin and Owen with whatever they might face.
Peacemaker was a 4.5-star read for me, my only wish is that when it came to their relationship there would have been more show, not tell—particularly earlier on in the story. Regardless, this was a great read, and I’d recommend it to any M/M paranormal romance fan.
The narration was excellent, perfectly paced and with good differentiation in the character voices. You could also easily tell the difference between points of view, as well as times when the characters’ thoughts were being expressed as opposed to their dialogue/actions. John Solo’s narration gets 5 stars from me!
About the Author
Morgan Brice is the romance pen name of bestselling author Gail Z. Martin. Morgan writes urban fantasy male/male paranormal romance, with plenty of action, adventure and supernatural thrills to go with the happily ever after. Gail writes epic fantasy and urban fantasy, and together with co-author hubby Larry N. Martin, steampunk and comedic horror, all of which have less romance, more explosions. Characters from her Gail books make frequent appearances in secondary roles in her Morgan books, and vice versa.
On the rare occasions Morgan isn’t writing, she’s either reading, cooking, or spoiling two very pampered dogs.
Series include Witchbane, Badlands, Treasure Trail, Kings of the Mountain and Fox Hollow. Watch for more in these series, plus new series coming soon!
Leander Talbot’s life changed forever when his wife died. He is now reluctantly venturing back into society, knowing that, as the Earl of Ockley, he must marry again to produce an heir. But he can’t bring himself to the sticking point. Instead, he spends his time evading the matchmaking mamas of the ton.
The dark and dangerous Duke of Arden is an infamous libertine. It is said that he seduces innocents, and there are even more sinister tales whispered of his predilections. Only the wild young blades who form his retinue know the truth, but he is shunned by all save those wishing to court notoriety.
A chance meeting brings Leander into Arden’s orbit. Ignoring the warnings about Arden’s intentions, Leander is drawn into a seductive world of sexual indulgence. There, he finds the freedom he craves from his overbearing family. By the time he suspects Arden might have ulterior motives, it may be too late to save his reputation—and his heart.
Excerpt
Leander sighed slightly. He had immersed himself in work and duty since Bella’s death, but it was only now he understood how removed from his contemporaries he had become. Most faces here were unfamiliar to him. Take the character in the corner—a dark complexion, his dress rich but careless in a way that proclaimed he cared little for the opinion of society. Leander was certain he had never set eyes on him, though the deference with which his circle of friends was treating him indicated that he was a man of some standing. He took the opportunity to ask the servant who brought him a glass of champagne.
“His Grace the Duke of Arden, my lord,” the man informed him.
The name was one with which Leander was familiar. It was a name with which all of London and some of the more enlightened provinces were familiar. Arden represented all that was decadent in the ton, his philandering ways extending far beyond opera dancers and actresses to ladies of quality. And it was not only widows or liaisons with married ladies, for it was said of him that he had ruined more than one young maiden. The number of duels that he had fought and won, the drunken orgies at which he presided, and his losses and gains at the gaming table had all assumed the proportions of legend. There were still darker things whispered about him. Only the coterie of wild young blades who formed his retinue knew the truth of these, but the intimations were there, and Arden remained unrecognised by all save those wishing to court notoriety.
Leander became aware that Arden was returning his gaze, his heavy-lidded eyes holding what appeared to be a gleam of amusement. As Leander watched, Arden raised his glass in a mocking salute before putting it to his lips and tossing back the contents.
Perhaps it was the champagne, perhaps it was the shock of realising that his acquaintances now viewed him as a prig. Whatever the reason, some demon prompted Leander to his feet. In defiance of all proper behaviour, he crossed the room to Arden and introduced himself.
Those dark eyebrows raised briefly, a noble head was inclined, and one of the young men clustered around Arden was moving from his seat, offering it to Leander.
“So you’re Ockley.” The duke’s aristocratic fingers curved elegantly around the stem of his glass and his dark eyes surveyed Leander as he sat. “I didn't think this to be your sort of place. I'd thought you more of a White's man.”
The provocation was there. It was well known that Arden had been pre-emptively blackballed by the respectable club lest any member lose their faculties and propose him for membership.
“Indeed?” Leander said stiffly, his somewhat lamentable temper aroused by Arden’s dismissal of him as a priggish bore. “And I thought you a legend, sir. A cautionary tale used by protective parents to keep young cubs in line.”
Reaction rippled through the assembled ranks, but Leander’s gaze was on Arden's face. A smile touched his lips as he looked at Leander. “A palpable hit, Ockley,” he murmured. His voice was rich and soft, with a hint of steel that intrigued Leander.
“Lea.” Henry's voice broke in. He was not precisely floored, but he was foxed enough to ignore all dictates of manners as he tugged insistently at his brother's arm. Knowing that if he resisted, Henry would only become more forceful, Leander allowed himself to be raised to his feet. His brother had been the same since nursery days—when he wanted something, he wanted it now, and it was usually attention he craved. Leander directed a small bow towards Arden, whose smile had widened at the spectacle Henry was making of them both, before following his brother's urgent strictures to leave immediately.
About the Author
Joy Lynn Fielding lives in a small English market town, where she indulges her passions for vintage aircraft, horse riding and gardening (though not all at the same time).
Joy tends to wax lyrical about the fascinating facts she discovers during her research for books. Thankfully, she has a very patient Labrador who has a gift for looking interested in what she’s saying while he waits for the food to arrive.
Tropes: Living Aphrodisiac, Turning into a God, Offing the Offspring, In Love with the Mark, Occult Detective, Don't Go in the Woods, Prophesies Rhyme, Killing the God, A+ Parenting, Metamorphoses
Themes: self-acceptance, overcoming family history, mystical library communion
A graduate student and an archivist work together to fight a god.
Fall, 1969. Ulysses Lenkov should be working on his dissertation. Instead, he's developing an unlucrative sideline in helping ghosts and hapless magic users. But when his clients start leaving town suddenly—or turning up dead—he starts to worry there's something afoot that’s worse than an unavenged death or incipient insanity. His investigation begins with the last word on everyone's lips before they vanish: the mysterious Dionysus.
Sam Sterling is an archivist who recently moved back to Madison to be closer to the family he's not too sure he likes. But his peaceful days of teaching library students, creating finding aids, and community theater come to an end when the magnetic, mistrustful Ulysses turns up with a warning. There's a god coming, and it looks like it's coming for Sam.
Soon the two are helping each other through demon attacks, discovering the unsavory history of Sam's family, and falling in love as they race to find a solution. But as the year draws to a close, they'll face a deadly showdown as they try to save Sam—and the city itself.
Excerpt
“What did you want with it, anyway? There’s nothing of value in there. Just books. I would have let you look at any of them if you’d asked.”
Ulysses took a deliberate step closer, and Sam found himself retreating until he fetched up against the metal of the door. “Would you have, though? If I’d come to you and said I needed to investigate why the spirit of the stacks seems interested in you?” Ulysses took another step forward. They were standing far closer than people generally did, and it was both thrilling and terrifying. “Because a lot of people might find a request like that peculiar.”
Sam’s mouth went dry. They were practically chest to chest now. “I—Yes!” he said, and tried to pull himself up to his full height. “I don’t know what any of that means.”
Ulysses nodded. “Then this is going to be weird for you,” he muttered, voice rough and practically in Sam’s ear, and grabbed him. He opened the lock and pushed Sam through the door before he could protest.
On his desk were a white candle and a small, heart-shaped piece of blond wood that held a pencil in a vertical position. Beneath it was a sheet of typing paper, blank except for a cursive letter D in the center of the page. “What’s all this?”
“The inconclusive results of last night’s experiments,” Ulysses said. He grappled with the chair for a moment and then shoved it out into the corridor, shutting the cage’s door between it and them. There was just barely enough room for both of them standing up. This was going to be hideously embarrassing if anyone came along and caught them.
Ulysses, heedless, was lighting the candle with a Zippo. “The building seemed to have something to say to you in the elevator. Maybe it just needs more time to build up to a real psychic discharge, but we can’t wait that long.” He grinned again, eyes wide. “So I thought I’d bring it what it wants, and see if that helps.”
“You—what exactly do you do, Mr. Lenkov?”
“I’m a human lightning rod.” He reached up and grasped Sam very gently by the chin, turning his face to the candle. “Look. Be silent and breathe. Think about the flame.”
The other man’s taut body was pressed right up against Sam’s back, his left arm wrapped around Sam’s waist, and the candle flame was definitely not where Sam’s thoughts were heading. His face still tingled where he’d been touched. “Lenkov,” he said uneasily, “Ulysses. Are you okay? Are you—”
“No drugs, if that’s what you’re trying so delicately to ask. I never touch the stuff. Now hush.”
For some reason he wasn’t entirely clear on, Sam hushed. The man’s tone of voice seemed to demand compliance. At first all he could feel was the rush of blood through his veins, most of it headed southward. But after a while, his head started to clear. He could feel Ulysses breathing behind him and the movement of air through the study cages, smell the paper and Ulysses’s piney cologne and the slightly acrid candle. It wasn’t that his body stopped responding with arousal, but rather that for what felt like a few increasingly long moments he was conscious of all of it, and the linoleum beneath his feet, the rush of water through the pipes of the building. The loud clicks as the motion sensors turned the lights out, one row at a time. Still they stood in their tiny puddle of candle light.
Then, suddenly, the temperature dropped. Sam opened his eyes wide, afraid to say anything lest he break the spell, but also more generally terrified. He twisted slightly, but Ulysses’s grip was unforgiving. The other man leaned forward, murmuring something almost inaudible in a calming tone, and Sam gave up. Whatever was going to happen, he’d have a front-row seat for it. His breath hissed out, steaming.
Ulysses reached out and grabbed Sam’s right hand with his. “Using your left hand,” he whispered, “touch the planchette. Whenever you’re ready.”
Sam wanted to ask how he’d know when he was ready, but as their skin connected he felt a tension building in the room. It reminded him, abruptly, of the churning green clouds before a thunderstorm. The tension was in him, too, somehow, like anxiety but not quite, a nauseating squirming thing hiding there behind his breastbone. He closed his eyes and let it build for another minute, until it reached a level he couldn’t stand anymore.
He touched the planchette and felt it jerk to life as something ran through Ulysses and through him and somehow grounded itself in the paper. It was a little like the peculiar relief offered by a sneeze or an orgasm or taking off a pair of painful shoes, and a little like a static shock turned up to eleven. He might have shouted.
A moment later, Ulysses reached around him and pinched out the candle flame. Sam leaned dumbly against the wall, trying to catch his breath, and Ulysses turned on the overhead light, swung the door open, and carefully pushed Sam down into the chair.
“Sorry about that,” Ulysses said, sounding entirely unaffected. He picked up the page from beneath the planchette and frowned at it. Sam looked at the little stylus, which gave a desultory wriggle and was still.
Carra's Review
For a first full-length novel, I’d say this author has done a smashing job! My curiosity was already piqued with the title since I love mythology, but the further into the book I got, the more totally enraptured I became. Yes, there are some romantic elements, but the focus here is more on the magic—and the fact that the god Dionysus is coming for Sam. By the way, this book has a great title; I mean sure…why not Wisconsin for the return of a god?
Magic is known in this world, which is a parallel of our own circa 1969. Sam doesn’t know much about magic, and he goes about his days buried in collections in the archives. Ulysses on the other hand has magical abilities and it’s just a daily fact of life for him and his family. The odd happenings around town keep pointing him towards Sam, and thus starts the unraveling of the mystery of what—or who—is coming for him. Their romance develops along the way, but doesn’t overshadow the magical and mythological elements.
What I loved about this story was that it was something unique for me, I don’t recall reading anything in this type of setting with these elements of magic and mythology. It was intriguing and the author did an excellent job of continually holding my attention. I was absorbed in the magic and mystery, with the romance being a nice side arc.
I’m definitely keeping this author on my radar, and knowing this is the first book in a series has me eagerly waiting for more. Dionysus in Wisconsin was a 4.5-star read for me, and I absolutely recommend this to any reader of urban fantasy, magic/paranormal, or even just M/M romance in a historical setting.
About the Author
E.H. Lupton (she/they) lives in Madison, WI with her family. She is the author of the novella The Joy of Fishes (Battered Suitcase Press, 2013/2015). Her poems have been published in a number of journals, including Paranoid Tree, Poet Lore, 300 Days of Sun, and House of Zolo's Journal of Speculative Literature. She is also one half of the duo behind the hit podcast Ask a Medievalist. In her free time, she enjoys running long distances and art.
