Blog Tour: THE RUINATION OF RAMONA STONE by Lisabet Sarai

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Lisabet Sarai will be awarding a $20 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Juliet seized my hand in both of hers. “Thank goodness you’re here,” she murmured.

“I heard you cry out. Are you hurt, or ill?”

“I had a dream—a nightmare, really. I screamed to wake myself up.” She shook herself, like a dog emerging from a pond. “By the saints, it was terrible!”

I stroked the back of her hand, feeling strangely awkward. “Dreams mean nothing. They’re just illusion.”

“I don’t know. I barely remember my mother, but I know she used to question me about my dreams. ‘Sleep is the portal to truth,’ she told me once.” My friend half-giggled, then a shiver ran through her frame. “I had no idea what a portal was.”

“It’s hardly surprising you’d have bad dreams, given what you’ve been through.”

Juliet frowned. “Yes, I can see how that awful dinner tonight might have fed this dream.”

Shame twisted inside me. “I’m so sorry about the way Edward treated you. He was horrible. And the worst thing is, he doesn’t even realise how cruel and offensive he’s being.”

“Why do you stay with him, Ramona?”

“Oh, Juliet! Of all people, how can you ask? Without him to support me, I’d be in the same straits as you are. I have no independent income. I’d have no money, no place to live... Plus there’s Will. I couldn’t stand to be separated from my little darling.”

She looked grave. “It is a weary thing to be a woman, is it not? The world is arranged for the convenience of the husband. We are but ornaments in his house.”

“Edward is not an evil man. He provides for our needs. He does not physically abuse me. Indeed, he believes himself to be a model husband. I think he finds my impatience and frustration puzzling. After I stormed out of the dining room, I suspect he retired to his study, poured himself a brandy and tried to understand why I was so contrary.”

About the Author:Lisabet Sarai writes in many genres, but F/F fiction is one of her favorites. In addition to her single-author lesbian romance and erotica titles, her Sapphic credits include contributions to Lambda Award winner Where the Girls Are, Ippie-winning Carnal Machines, Best Lesbian Romance 2012, Best Lesbian Erotica 2015, Forbidden Fruit: Stories of Unwise Lesbian Desire, and Lammy-nominated Coming Together: Girl on Girl.

Lisabet holds more degrees than anyone would ever need, from prestigious educational institutions who would no doubt be deeply embarrassed by her explicit literary endeavors. She has traveled widely and currently lives in Southeast Asia, where she pursues an alternative career that is completely unrelated to her writing.

Lisabet’s Fantasy Factory (website): http://www.lisabetsarai.com
Beyond Romance (blog): http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Lisabet-Sarai/e/B001K8PADS
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LSarai
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/83387.Lisabet_Sarai
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/lisabet-sarai
Twitter/X: https://www.x.com/lisabetsarai
Bluesky: https://https//bsky.app/profile/lisabetsarai.bsky.social
Medium: https://medium.com/@lisabet_63394
Mailing list signup: https://lisabetsarai.eo.page/kqyq4

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0HMD46TBH
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0HMD46TBH
Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-ruination-of-ramona-stone-lisabet-sarai/1151622599
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/2120525
Bookstore.org: https://bookshop.org/p/books/the-ruination-of-ramona-stone-lisabet-sarai/8e6f6e43c5dd1504

Blog Tour: THE HANDYMAN'S HAPPILY-EVER-AFTER by Nick Poff

 

What begins as plans for a quiet ceremony soon becomes something much bigger, a joyful celebration of love, family, resilience, and a thirty-four-year commitment that deserves to be honored in unforgettable style.

The Handyman’s Happily-Ever-After

The Handyman Series Book 7

by Nick Poff

Genre: LGBTQ+, M/M Contemporary Romance

In the winter of 2015, Ed Stephens and his longtime partner Rick are settling into life at Penfield Manor.

With retirement looming, old friends scattered, and the realities of aging becoming impossible to ignore, they find comfort in family, loyal friends, and the steady stream of guests who pass through what they affectionately call “The Hotel Penfield Manor.”

But life has surprises in store. A grandson is on the way, a troubled young relative needs refuge, and a wave of intolerance in their Indiana community forces Ed and Rick to confront a question they have postponed for more than three decades: should they finally marry?

What begins as plans for a quiet ceremony soon becomes something much bigger, a joyful celebration of love, family, resilience, and a thirty-four-year commitment that deserves to be honored in unforgettable style.

 

Amazon * Bookbub * Goodreads

 

  Ed was on his way home for lunch after a computer job Friday morning when his phone began to blow up. Now what? He wondered. When he reached the driveway he grabbed his phone and saw text messages from Rex and Gordy. Aw geez, what did that putz of a governor do now? As he sat debating whether to read them or not, texts came in from Paul, Muriel, and even Phil Sturgis. There was a news alert attached to Phil’s so he opened that one first. Same-Sex Marriage: Supreme Court Rules in Favor, President Obama Calls It 'Victory for America.’

Ed shook his head in disbelief. He’d had absolutely no faith in a favorable ruling from the court and had done his best to ignore the whole thing. But now, suddenly, something he never thought he’d see in his lifetime had happened. He and Rick had the right to marry, not only in Indiana, but anywhere in the United States. I’ll be damned, he thought. He looked at the ring on his left hand, the one Rick had put on his finger thirty-four years earlier, the one he’d been half afraid to wear at first as he worried about what people might say. But now, but now…

   That evening Ed and Rick sat in front of the computer in the study reading every article, every reaction, and seeing in the photos every bit of joy coming from people like them all across the country. Then one image stopped their scrolling, the sight of the White House glowing in rainbow colored lights. They stared at it until the screen saver kicked in and replaced it with a photo of Dwight.

   “Even back in ’08 I knew Obama was the president we had been waiting for,” Ed said, breaking the silence.

   “I still can’t completely wrap my head around it,” Rick said softly. He shook the mouse and the White House came back into view. “The president of the United States is happy for us. He calls this a victory. For the first time in my life I feel like a first class citizen of this country. We belong. We matter.” He whooped joyously. “How ‘bout that!”

   Ed laughed at Rick’s exuberance. “How ‘bout that,” he repeated.

   Rick turned to Ed, his eyes bright. “So what do you think, babe?”

   “Huh? Think about what?”

   “You wanna get married?”

   Ed swallowed a smile and said as seriously as he could: “Are you sure you want to enter into an archaic heterosexual tradition?”

   Rick shrugged. “Why the hell not?” He took Ed’s hand. “I didn’t want to when it became legal in our state because I didn’t think it would last. I was sure the decision would get overturned. I mean, it still might. I’m sure there are people out there right now shitting their pants in horror and planning its downfall. Fuck ‘em. Let’s enjoy this moment while it lasts. The president,” he added, “would approve.”

   “Okay.”

   “Okay what?”

   “What?”

   “I seem to recall,” Rick said, hands on hips, “that I did what proposing there was to do the first time.”

   “Oh! It’s my turn.”

   “You betcha, mister.”

   Ed took a deep breath. “Well, in that case.”  He got to his knee beside Rick. He reached for his hand and said solemnly, “Richard John Benton, will you marry me?”

   Rick’s warm and tender smile spread across his face. “Yes.”

  They reached for each and sealed the deal with a kiss.

 

**Don’t miss the rest of the books in the Handyman Series! **

Find them on Amazon

NICK POFF lives in Fort Wayne, Indiana, in an early 20th century historical neighborhood. A widower, he shares his home with his cat, Jasper. He is a life-long Hoosier, a distinction with which he has a love/hate relationship.

Poff spent thirty years in the radio industry in northeast Indiana as a disc jockey, copy writer, producer, program manager and music director. When technology allowed radio corporations to begin shedding programming staff, he decided to take a chance at something he had long wanted to do, writing stories for gay men such as he living in the wide open space between Provincetown and West Hollywood. This resulted in a book series about handyman Ed Stephens. Ed meets his dream man, Rick, in 1980, and through six books, Poff tells the tale of a gay couple living in a small Indiana town through the 1980’s. In 2025 he decided to add one more book, set in 2015, when same sex marriage was legalized nationwide in order to give Ed and Rick the finale he felt they deserved.

You can more about him and his work at nickpoffauthor.com, on Facebook at Nick Poff Author, and Amazon Authors.

 

Website * Facebook * Amazon * Goodreads

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

Blog Tour: HAVEN'S SANCTUARY by Emeryl Williams

 

A looming apocalypse.

A secret refuge.

A demon in the shadows determined to thwart their escape.

Haven’s Sanctuary: Season of Reckoning

The Haven Series Book 1

by Emeryl Williams

Genre: Contemporary Apocalyptic Survival Fantasy 

A looming apocalypse.
A secret refuge.
A demon in the shadows.

When all signs point to an impending disaster no one can yet name, Cerise and Derrick discover the only thing more dangerous than persecution by their community is the truth: the Goddess has called their people to flee and seek safety in a hidden sanctuary. The clock is ticking as they race against a closing portal, a coming reckoning, enemies determined to burn them out before they can escape, and an unrecognized demonic threat to their entire plan.

Haven’s Sanctuary: Season of Reckoning is a fast-moving fantasy-suspense story of magic, sanctuary, love under pressure, faith under fire, and apocalyptic survival. The empowered must harness the kind of hope that refuses to die, for what begins as a simple escape becomes a battle for their very existence.
If you love reading Auburn Tempest or Martha Carr, then grab your copy now and step into the Haven before the portal closes.

 

Amazon * Bookbub * Goodreads

Cerise poured a steady stream of salt from the cardboard Morton canister, the crystals sparkling in the candlelight, to trace out a large circle on the wooden floor of her study. It was midnight, the kids were in bed, and breakfast oats were in the Crock-Pot[KB1] . She completed the circle that now surrounded and sealed her in the center. Her raven-black hair veiled forward as she bent to pick up a single lighted taper from the center of the circle, then walked to the northernmost point and lit a short, fat beeswax candle that rested in a silver bowl. She murmured,

“By waxing moon, a growing light,

Silver warm and heed my plight.”

She traversed the circle to the easternmost point and bent over to light the next candle fixed in the center of an octagonal copper trivet.

“Daybreak promised in the morn,

Reveal the light through copper warm.”

Next, she lit the taper on the southernmost candle affixed in a bronze candle holder she had found at a garage sale.

“Sun at zenith powerful sight,

Bronze warm and strengthen might.”

At the westernmost point, the last candle was set on a small golden charger—one of her most valued possessions, even if only gold plated. Her mother had gifted it to her years ago for just this purpose. She lit the final wick and invoked the last quarter.

“Setting sun at end of day,

Gold warm and battle for the Way.”

Cerise returned to the center of the circle, sat cross-legged on the floor, the taper in front of her, pulled her hair behind her head, and tied it back with one of her daughter’s scrunchies. She closed her eyes and took several deep cleansing breaths to settle her emotions. Clearing her mind, she focused on positive energy and intentions as she sifted through the memories of the fight with her husband, Brad, last week. She acknowledged the pain of his rejection, his ugly words, and his condemnation of her magical empowerment. He had threatened her and promised retribution from the entire town if she did not abandon her powers and the local magical community.

As if she could give up her empowerment.

The house creaked in rhythm to her boiling emotions.

Earth magic was an integral part of her soul, not a toy that could be discarded on a whim. She was a leader of the Haven, the local community of empowered believers, and helped to guide and perform the seasonal rituals. Brad had come to the celebrations with her for years, but only as a spectator. He had not an ounce of magic in him. He now spent more time at work and the corner bar than with her and the kids, and last week had come home drunk and shouting.

“Cerise . . . you gotta stop this blasphemy you call magic! It’s not real . . . you’re leading the children down a dangerous path.” He paused, his face twisted in fury. “You and your friends are nothing but fakes and charlatans. You are the reason our town is failing. Times are changing and the city council won’t put up with your hocus pocus any longer. I’ll see to that! If you don’t quit, we’ll run you out of town!” He had struck her across the face, the force sending her to the floor, before throwing his clothes in a suitcase and storming [EW2] out.

She still bore the bruise of his abuse on her right cheek.

The walls began to vibrate, a portent of the suppressed violence that seethed within her soul. “So easy . . . so easy to take vengeance,” whispered that dark corner of her mind. “Destroy them first,” the sinister voice continued. “Make them pay for not believing in the powers you possess. Show them the might and righteousness you wield in your fingertips.” Small sparks blazed in her eyes, now filled with anger.

“Hold, child,” said another voice, gentle, filled with compassion. The words of the Goddess, always her North Star, echoed in her mind. “As a true follower of the Mother, you have never turned to the dark. Do not do so now. I command you to stand down. Your strength and power will be needed to combat the rising evil around you all too soon. Do not sink into the tempting siren song of darkness. Rise above the hate. Reject vengeance, for that is the burden of the Father. You are committed to the Light, my child. Follow the Mother’s path.”

With painful slowness Cerise battled to control the roiling darkness in the corner of her soul. Always there. Always tempting her to lose control, to lash out at those who meant her and her kind nothing but ill will. The walls stopped vibrating; the creaking of the house returned to the usual noises of an old farmhouse in the middle of the night. The sparks in Cerise’s eyes went out, the anger abated.

More deep breaths steadied her hand as she placed a bundle of dried sage and juniper tied with cotton string by the taper. Out of the bag at her side, she grabbed handfuls of fresh sage leaves, rosemary, and lavender sprigs she had harvested this morning from the garden and strewed them around her, the aroma of fresh herbs a reminder of the power of the Light. She took the dried herbal bundle and lit the end, waving it around her to spread the smoke, before she placed it on an old glass ashtray from her grandmother, sentimental but essentially useless since no one smoked cigarettes in this family anymore.[EW3] 

Once again, she carefully set her intentions. She eliminated her fear, cleansed her mind of negative thoughts, and clung [EW4] to all the positive energy she could conjure: the love of her children, the support of her community, and most of all her deep belief in the unseen powers that ruled the sun and moon, the tides and seasons.[EW5] 

“Mother, Father[EW6] , rulers of all,

Cleanse my soul of pain and hate,

Ease the grief of love lost and gone,

Renew my heart and heal this wound.

Release all vengeful thoughts from me,

Redeem my soul and leave pristine.”

Inhaling the fragrant herbal smoke, Cerise allowed her mind to float. She had no more tears and would face the trial of single motherhood with strength and grace. A smile flitted across her lips. Her children were empowered, a fact she had never confided to her husband. They had not yet come into their powers, but she could feel the spark of magic growing within them.

The center taper burned down to a nubbin and sputtered.

It was time to move forward, time to plan.

A little bitta Texas... A little bitta medicine... A lotta bit of Fantasy!

Emeryl Williams is a longtime resident of the Panhandle and having worn out a pair of boots here considers herself a Texan. She has always been an avid reader of science fiction and fantasy. Her first work is The Chosen of Bryndir Series which introduces the Bryndir Universe, filled with magic, danger, and a powerful Talisman fated to save a Kingdom at war. Her latest work is Haven's Sanctuary: Season of Reckoning in which she branches out into apocalypse survival fantasy. Her books will always feature a little bit of Texas...a little bit of medicine...and a lotta bit of fantasy!

 

Newsletter  * Facebook * Instagram * TikTok * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

 

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

Blog Tour: BREATHE by Camelia Bennett

 

A gifted psychic, tormented by a serial killer who has the key to his mind, finds hope in a talented detective with a tortured past. Together, they will learn what it means to trust again and fall into a love they never thought they deserved.

Breathe

A Soul’s Caress Book 1

by Camelia Bennett

Genre: LGBTQ+ Paranormal Romantic Murder Mystery

Zayne Matthews is looking for someone to save him. His visions of a serial killer are pulling him deeper into a world of darkness he no longer has the strength to fight against. Detective Bodie Hale is looking for someone to save. His haunted past isolates him from the people who love and care about him, imprisoning his heart behind icy walls no one can break through.

But fate has plans for them. It will bring Bodie and Zayne together in a collision of emotions, forcing them to face their deepest fears. Their broken hearts will start to mend as they fight for a chance to have the one thing they thought they’d never find...LOVE.

And not just any love. A love brought to life through A Soul’s Caress.

 

Amazon * Bookbub * Goodreads

Bodie stood and offered his hand as if it was the most natural thing to do.

 

"Come on. The aquarium staff is going home for the night. I'll walk you back to your car."

 

Zayne cocked his head sarcastically. "You don’t think I can take care of myself, detective?"

 

“It’s not that.”

 

“Oh, I get it. Porter and Harris told you to keep an eye on me.”

 

“Actually, they told me the opposite.”

 

“Then why are you doing all this? I mean, the ice cream, the aquarium, escorting me to my car.”

 

Zayne took a step closer to the young man still holding his hand. A burst of heat erupted in his chest. His skin felt like it was on fire. The scent of sandalwood swirling around him tempted him to give in to the undeniable need coursing through his body. Unable to resist, Zayne leaned even closer to the sexy detective.

 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say this was our first date, Detective Hale.”

 

Bodie’s expression remained unchanged, but he couldn’t hide the lovely shade of pink that was now coloring the tips of his ears.

 

Zayne's thumb drew slow, seductive circles on the back of Bodie's hand. He daringly slipped his long, elegant fingers between Bodie’s until their palms touched. When their grip tightened with a natural ease, his heart stuttered as Bodie's breathing quickened. Their intimately joined hands sent the most exquisite tremors rushing through his body.

 

"What are you doing?" Bodie whispered, his voice ragged.

 

"I don't know. But it feels right. Doesn't it?"

 

Zayne’s heart thrashed wildly inside his tight chest as Bodie lifted his free hand and cupped the side of his face. He could feel the calloused skin tenderly cradle the smooth skin of his cheek. Giving in to his body’s demands, he closed his eyes and nuzzled into Bodie’s warm hand.

 

"Zayne…we…we can't."

 

Zayne’s eyes shot open. He wrenched his hand free and took three quick steps back.

 

"I-I-I'm so sorry! I don't know what I..."

 

Bodie turned, heading for the exit, his head hung low. "It…It’s fine. Come on. Follow me."

 

Zayne couldn’t see the detective’s face. But he could read Bodie’s body language loud and clear.

 

What the hell came over him? Of course, Bodie would be disgusted. He’s a man, for god’s sake! A damn hot man who, even if he was gay, would never be interested in Zayne.

 

This is crazy! I’m not even gay! I’m not. At least, I’m pretty sure I’m not. I’m just tired, lonely, and fucking horny. I can’t even remember the last time I got laid. This is ridiculous. How am I going to look him in the eye after this? He probably hates my guts. He’ll probably tell the captain he can’t work with me anymore. Whatever. I didn’t want his help anyway.

 

“Are you coming?” Bodie asked.

 

But Zayne didn’t seem to hear him. He remained where he was, internally scolding himself for acting like a complete idiot. It wasn’t until he felt Bodie’s fingers threading through his that he snapped out of his bubble of self-loathing. He looked into the detective’s eyes, shocked to see a devilish satisfaction shadowed by a hint of hope in their golden depths.

 

“I’m not angry,” Bodie said softly, gently squeezing Zayne’s hand. “You’re tired and, just taking a guess here, hungry?”

 

Zayne nodded. Well, he may have read Bodie all wrong, but the detective knew exactly what he was feeling. It was nice—really nice—to finally be seen by someone. Granted, it was by a complete stranger, which was the damndest thing. Yet Bodie didn’t feel like a stranger. How was that possible? Had they met before?

 

“Alright then. We’ll stop for something on the way back to the station. But nothing greasy or spicy. You’ll have nightmares.”

 

Zayne gave Bodie a broken smile.

 

Oh, Detective Hale. You have no idea what a nightmare is. Trust me, junk food is the least of my worries.

 

Zayne could tell Bodie was trying to read his thoughts. The way a tiny wrinkle appeared between the detective’s brows and his pale eyes danced with questions had Zayne thinking hard about trusting this man with his secrets.

 

“Everything okay?” Bodie asked.

 

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

 

“Well then, follow me.”

 

Zayne shook his head casually. “Not until you answer my question.”

 

“What question?”

 

“The one I asked earlier.”

 

“Ohhh. The one about why I’m doing all of this. That one?”

 

Giving Bodie an annoyed smile, Zayne replied, “Yes, that one. I mean, you’re a detective sent here to catch a serial killer. Shouldn’t you be out looking for clues or arresting suspects instead of buying me food and taking me to see fish?”

 

A smile borne from honesty lifted the corners of Bodie’s lips. “What can I say? I enjoy taking care of you. I like to see you smile. You should do it more often. It’s sexy.”

 

Eyes wide and heart racing, Zayne gulped down the words taking shape on his tongue. Bodie’s answer caught him off guard and left him wondering if he was dreaming.

 

“Come on,” Bodie whined, tugging on Zayne’s hand. “I won’t let you down. I promise.”

 

Of that simple fact, Zayne was now convinced.

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“Do you trust me?”

 

Zayne looked into Bodie’s unrelenting gaze and answered from his heart.

 

“Absolutely.”

 

Soul Moon: First Encounter

Soul Moon Book 1

by Camelia Bennett

Genre: LGBTQ+ Urban Fantasy, Norse Mythology 

Caden Mitchell, a wolf shifter, thinks he’s on a mission to stop a deadly weapons exchange. What he finds instead is a pair of silver eyes and a body carved by sin. Erick Shaw is a struggling bartender whose scent has awakened Caden’s lonely heart and ignited a fire in his dying soul. Drawn together by an unknown and inexplicable familiarity, they will search for answers as to why humans want Erick dead and shifters wish to possess him.

Fate has brought them together for a reason. However, time is against them. Will Caden be able to save Erick from the people hunting him? Can Erick change his destiny and survive a horror none have been able to before?

Their hearts will be tempted, their bond tested. Yet, through it all, Caden and Erick will follow the longing in their souls back to the one their passion burns brightest for.

 

Amazon * Bookbub * Goodreads

Caden Mitchell wasn’t supposed to be here. It wasn’t supposed to be him sitting in this seedy strip club, avoiding the advances of women he had no interest in. Initially, his head of security had been assigned to this location. But, when they got a last-minute tip about an illegal shipment of drugs arriving tonight down at the harbor, Caden was forced to take the mission at the club while his associate followed the lead at the docks.

 

It really was the best plan. Unfortunately, now he’s the one stuck sitting here in this hell of overstimulation instead of the quiet of his condo, reading a good book while enjoying a cup of tea.

 

The flashing, colorful lights around him make his eyes hurt. The loud music, if you can even call it that, feeds the headache clawing at the front of his skull. The pungent smell of the filthy carpet, the ripped vinyl seats, and the smoky air all trigger waves of nausea that churn his empty stomach. Everything about this place reeks of desperation and sex.

 

From the moment he sat down over an hour ago, Caden has kept his head and eyes down. He can’t afford to draw attention to himself if he wants to complete his mission. However, as he catches the scent of someone new walking through the doors, his head lifts slightly so his sharp eyes can follow the man he was sent here to observe, possibly capture, but most likely, kill.

 

His senses heighten as he watches his target casually approach the bar and order a beer. The man dressed in a blue suit too expensive for this cheap club turns to scan the crowd cautiously. Caden quickly lowers his head again and casually takes the final sip of bourbon from his glass. A minute ticks by before he looks up to zero in on his target again.

 

But instead of finding his prey, Caden is met with a pair of striking gray eyes staring back at him with an arousing playfulness.

 

He can’t look away. Even though his breaths remain slow and even, his heart rate accelerates like a racehorse out of a starting gate. The blood in his veins burns like fire beneath his skin, yet he keeps his expression shrouded with disinterest. Heated shivers ripple outwards through his body as his eyes catch the faint, mischievous smile taking shape on the bartender’s perfectly bowed lips. When the owner of those mystifying silver eyes begins walking toward him, Caden’s grip on the empty glass in his hand tightens. 

 

Everything in the club fades to the background except for the man striding confidently to the small round table in the corner, where Caden waits, his sensitive ears listening to the steady beat of the bartender’s strong heart. His cobalt blue eyes catch every movement of the young man’s sinewy muscles beneath his black, skin-tight jeans and barely-there crimson red shirt. Everything about the bartender fascinates him. But it’s the innocent man’s scent that truly captivates him.

 

Caden has never smelled anything this heavenly before. The bartender’s fragrance is a potent blend of rosewood and sweat, compelling him to inhale deeply until he can taste it on his tongue. The combination is exhilarating, yet there’s something else subtly interwoven beneath it that draws him in like a siren’s song—something Caden believes he has smelled before but has been lost to him over time.

 

“What can I get you, handsome?” the bartender asks with a flirty tilt of his head.

 

Caden’s fingers itch to bury themselves in the man’s soft hair. The urge to pull on the strands at the root, baring the man’s neck to his teeth, has him clenching his jaw. He swallows stiffly as the bartender’s large, almond-shaped eyes openly travel up and down his body. They’re lined with endless rows of black lashes so thick that it gives the illusion that the young man is wearing eyeliner. It makes Caden want to see if the barkeep is as dangerous as he looks. His eyes drink in the young man’s bare arms, his mouth going dry when the sly minx of a man flexes his biceps. The bartender has veiled them, along with the sun-kissed flesh covering his exposed collarbones, with some sort of fine body glitter. The seductive man’s naked skin glistens with every breath he takes, every minute shift of his lean body, and all Caden wants to do is lick it off him. 

When I was young, I read books to escape the small town I grew up in. College, work, and family took me away from the stories I loved. But in 2020, when everyone was isolated, my youngest daughter introduced me to Japanese anime, and I fell into a hole I never want to leave. Fan fiction showed me that anyone can create stories and share them with the world. Three encouraging words from my best friend gave me the courage to write my first fan fiction later that year. Not long after, I completed the series, A Soul's Caress, my first original story but not my last. At 55, I now understand the meaning of George Eliot's quote, "It's never too late to be what you might have been.”

 

Website * Facebook * Instagram * TikTok * Amazon * Goodreads

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

Blog Tour: THE TWELVE TABLES by Richard Barager

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. One randomly chosen entrant will receive a $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble gift card at the end of the tour. See the entry form at the bottom of this post to enter.

"The blood of the bulls on Jupiter’s hill gave them liberty—the words graven unto these Twelve Tables made them equal."

ROME, 462 BC. To save his family’s failing farm, sixteen-year-old Marcus Atilius is sold into debt servitude by his own father. Plunged into the city’s underbelly, Marcus must endure a world of cutthroat trading stalls and gritty warehouses, all while navigating a forbidden entanglement with a woman far above his station. Survival demands sharp guile and moral compromise.

As a bitter class struggle pushes Rome toward the brink of civil war, Marcus vows to beat the elites at their own ruthless game to win his freedom and a fortune worthy of the woman he loves.

Yet his rise brings a fateful choice. A historic demand sweeps the city for the Twelve Tables—a revolutionary legal code to protect plebeians from patrician tyranny. With a corrupt aristocrat holding the tether to his trading empire, will Marcus protect his hard-won power, or risk everything for the soul of Rome?

ENJOY AN EXCERPT: The fire crackled. His father’s eyes roved over their faces. “He said I was too weak for bondage. That I was the reason for the debt.”

Quintus rose in protest. Fausta began to weep, and Lucia went to her, wrapping her arms around her.

“Is it so, Marcus?” Servius whispered. “Has father slowed that much?”

Marcus feigned doubt that Mettius had, but only out of respect. The weight loss, the gray in his beard—his father had aged. Strong as a bull one year, enfeebled the next.

Mettius drew a breath and went on. “He threatened to seize our land. Make vagrants of us. Beggars.”

If they lost their land, Marcus knew, they would live in crowded squalor in Rome, desperate for work. And why? Because it had always been that way. There was one set of laws for the privileged, another for everyone else.

His father stared over their heads at the wall. “I asked for another way. He wanted Quintus.” Mettius lowered his gaze. “I did not allow it. If I were to die with Quintus in bondage, the family would have no paterfamilias. The risk was too great.” His father’s voice had gone cold.

Quintus turned around. Marcus nodded to show he agreed. Better to lose their land than a son. It would be a hardship, but the family would stay together this way.

Marcus looked at his father. Their eyes met.

“I sold Marcus into mancipium with Gaius Licinius. A term of three years. He comes tomorrow to take him to Rome.”

 

 

GUEST POST

Lucretia and the Birth of the Roman Republic

In my historical novel The Twelve Tables, the young Roman Republic is still struggling to decide what the relationship between its citizens and their government will be. Less than fifty years before the events in my story, the Republic was born from one of the most enduring—and tragic—legends of the ancient world.

Is the tale of Lucretia mythical or historical? Probably a heady brew of each, like much of early Roman history. The Rape of Lucretia may even contain elements adapted from Greek stories about the fall of tyranny. But whether authentic or apocryphal in origin, Lucretia’s story would be immortalized in the paintings of Titian, Botticelli, and Rembrandt, and the literature of Ovid and Shakespeare. Helen may have launched a thousand ships, but Lucretia birthed the Roman Republic.

In 509 BC, during the reign of Tarquin the Proud, Lucretia was regarded as the most virtuous of Roman women. Sextus Tarquinius, the king’s son, became infatuated with her and sexually coveted her. One evening, with her husband Collatinus away, Sextus contrived a visit to Lucretia’s home, where he was received as an honored royal guest. After dining with his gracious hostess, he bid the household good night and retired to his chamber.

Until all was still.

Sextus crept with sword in hand to Lucretia’s bed and told her that unless she gratified his lust, he would kill her. But even with the tip of a sword at her throat, Lucretia refused to be unfaithful to Collatinus. The desperate Sextus then threatened to kill not only Lucretia, but a slave as well, and to lay their naked bodies side by side. “I will say I discovered your adultery and killed you both to defend the honor of your husband.”

Lucretia could not tolerate the shame her husband would suffer from such a slanderous act. She yielded to Sextus, who ravished her in their marital bed. He departed satisfied and confident that her fear of disgrace would prevent her from disclosing his crime.

But it did not.

She summoned her father, her husband, and Collatinus’s friend Brutus to her side. She told them that Sextus had taken advantage of her hospitality and defiled her. After recounting the details of his vile scheme, Lucretia made them promise to punish Sextus for what he had done. They vowed vengeance and assured her that her honor was intact, as she had not willingly given herself to him. But for Lucretia, such honor could only be reclaimed by the purification of death. She withdrew a blade hidden in her robes and plunged it into her heart, dying within moments.

Her father and husband stood frozen by shock and despair. Not so Brutus. He pulled the knife from her chest and swore he would drive Tarquin the Proud, his son Sextus, and their entire family from power. If this was what kingship begot, Rome would have no king again.

According to ancient historians, the revolt Brutus incited led to the overthrow of Tarquin the Proud. Two magistrates were elected to replace the king—Collatinus and his friend Brutus, the first consuls of Rome. From that beginning grew the republican institutions and ideals that Romans would spend centuries defending and redefining: shared political authority, citizenship, popular assemblies, and the rule of law.

That struggle forms the political backdrop of The Twelve Tables. By 462 BC, when the novel begins, Rome had expelled its kings but had not addressed the matters of civil rights and legal transparency. The struggle between patrician privilege and plebeian demands would eventually produce Rome’s first written law code—the Twelve Tables, the cornerstone of Roman civil law and a foundational text of Western civilization.

And the influence of Lucretia on all of this?

Timeless.

 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Richard Barager is the author of The Atheist and the Parrotfish and Altamont Augie, the latter a winner of the Silver Medal in Foreword Reviews 2011 Book of the Year Awards (Historical Fiction); a Gold Medal in the 2011 eLit Book Awards (Literary Fiction); and a Silver Medal in the Independent Publisher 2012 Regional Book Awards. The Wall Street Journal reviewed Altamont Augie in its Five Best column: “No other novel so crystallizes the themes, flavors and attitudes of an era [the 1960s].” The Atheist and the Parrotfish was featured on Book Talk Radio, with Kory French. Richard completed undergraduate studies and medical school at the University of Minnesota and was a nephrologist in private practice for many years. Long devoted to medicine and fiction, he now writes full time (and no longer at night!). He believes fiction explores meaning in ways science cannot. Sometimes only fiction can discover truth.

http://richardbarager.com 
https://www.facebook.com/RichardBarager
https://www.instagram.com/richardbarager
https://x.com/RichardBarager
https://www.amazon.com/Twelve-Tables-Novel-Ancient-Rome/dp/B0HF6TJPW2/