Cover for Black Cats and Bad Luck

For this cover reveal I feel like I should have built up the moment more or done something fancy because I LOVE this cover. Instead, I’m going to wing it in my usual fashion. This book is new for me because it’s my first contemporary fantasy and new adult novel. It’s still a gay romance about magic, familiars, and a love story that began in dreams.

This complete, full-length novel of around 100,000 words should soon be available in many places, but is now only offered in giveaways like this one. It is abundantly obvious to me that I didn’t make this, though you might not be aware if you don’t know me. This cover was made for me and is probably my favorite cover for any of my books.

Here’s a scene from the book. During this section, Avery Ward and his family are arriving at a resort in the Colorado wilderness for a vacation and family reunion. Avery thinks he knows how much magic will occur on this trip (not much.) Avery is wrong.

~

Avery

Around the resort, everything looked picture perfect with fresh cut grass, flowers, and shrubs neatly lining walking paths. The well-maintained areas eventually gave way to the woods. A seemingly endless forest surrounded the property. Outdoorsy types, Pagans, nature lovers, and so on would really appreciate the place. The air was so full of an earthy scent, reminiscent of pine with other notes I couldn’t wait to uncover.

It was difficult to feel anything other than cheerful and optimistic when in a place so beautiful. This would be—

“Awful,” proclaimed Jonah Harris, the friend I’d been allowed to invite along. “This is the worst thing I’ve ever heard! We’re stuck here all week and there’s no magic? Not even a little bit? None? None at all?”

Stella and I exchanged a glance. You tell him, she wordlessly expressed. He’s your friend.

“Yeah,” I confirmed wearily. “None means none.”

“But…” He made a pathetic noise. “What the hell?”

Hefting his blue travel bag over his shoulder, Jonah sagged under its weight. He was mixed race with dark hair and brown skin. He stood much taller than me, yet he reminded me of a kid closer to Stella’s age, one who just discovered the fat present bringing man, uh, who… oh. Jonah resembled a kid who just found out Santa wasn’t real, desperately seeking confirmation from his parents, wanting to believe any alternative to the truth if given the chance.

“Did I forget to mention the ‘no magic’ thing?” I asked even though the answer was clear. Why should I have mentioned it? It wasn’t going to be any different from our regular life. Well, mine and Jonah’s.

Jonah kicked at the dirt of the parking lot. “Man, this sucks.”

“I know how you feel,” Stella consoled. “I couldn’t even bring my familiar.” She sent me a worried look. “I hope he’ll be okay on his own.”

“There will be magic after the ceremony,” I promised Jonah.

“That’s at the very end! The whole reason I came on this trip—” He cut off abruptly.

“No, keep going,” I prompted. “The whole reason you came on a trip with me, your very best friend—”

“Best male friend,” he clarified, suddenly able to carry his bag with ease and walking ahead.

We were both males so, “That’s the most important kind,” I told his back.

“How sexist,” he accused, wheeling around in outrage. “Really, is this the example you wanna set for your little sister?”

“I’m repeating what you said when you complained forever because I—”

“You invited Heather first over me! Thanks for reminding me. I’m still deeply hurt, by the way. We probably shouldn’t mention any of this ever again unless we want to ruin the trip.” Too bad Heather couldn’t come. She was busy. Jonah waited a few seconds before asking, “Did I successfully turn things around?”

“It is a free trip,” Stella noted. “Whether there’s magic or not, it’s a pretty good deal.”

“Thank you, Stella,” I said, smiling at Jonah. But I couldn’t help the feeling that it would be a long week.

–the full story is available here.

Sneak peek at new gay romance

In romcom terms, Zach Ahmad is the playboy who never falls in love. Here he is living his best life at the start of Falling in Love (and Other Bad Ideas).

Zach

Some people thought there were no guarantees in life. Those people hadn’t met Macy Owens. As far as sure things went, her level equaled water being wet or my best friends saying moronic stuff. Simply put, the girl was easy. Did I seem too mean? Game respected game. And me? I was easy, breezy, beautiful—no, that was something else.  

While rejection seemed unlikely, I couldn’t go out looking average. If flirting and having fun were official sports, I would be a major leaguer. My professional pride prompted me to be at my best. Checking my reflection in the glass door of the restaurant I stood in front of, I spotted a handsome bastard. Me, of course. I also thought I saw this guy I used to hook up with working inside, but no, I was the pretty one.

We should take a moment to admire my soft, lovingly moisturized brown skin free of pores. Or my expertly styled dark hair, athletic body, and cunning smirk. And as a high school senior, I swaggered around like I ruled the world. Though to be fair, I did that even before this year. Dressed in tight jeans and a snug old baseball t-shirt, the total Zach package was, in a word, irresistible.

This rural town lacked an abundance of dining options, but this establishment was one of the mid-priced chain restaurants we did have called, I don’t know, Bland White People Restaurant. My company for the evening wanted to eat here before the fun part, so she selected this place. I agreed because she had a belly button ring and her parents weren’t home for the weekend.

I typically won contests of style, but Macy bested me in the fashionably late game we were apparently playing. The guy I used to hook up with, Brendan Carver, tended bar for the evening, so I went to speak to him. Recently 21, he took classes at a local community college, had insane upper body strength, and I probably couldn’t list anymore facts regarding him. Fortunately, I arrived in front of him at the bar.

“Want a drink?” he asked.

I grinned. “Oh forward, I like that in a man.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m the bartender.”

“Another great quality,” I enthused in fine form. I could go from zero to flirty quicker than a snap of the fingers.

Crossing his arms, he wouldn’t play. “Knock it off.”

Pouting slightly, I told him, “I forgot you’re no fun.”

Brendan went back to work, which I expected. We hadn’t hooked up in a while. Several guys I used to fool around with were more careful when near me in public. It made sense as I came out while they were still in the closet. Sitting on a barstool, I could still enjoy the view in front of me. A view which was…. okay, mostly average. In looks and in that watching a guy slice lemons wasn’t exactly the highlight of my life.

The assembly line which produced Midwest farm boy types gave Brendan a no-nonsense set to his jawline along with plain brown hair and eyes. A boring picture suited to this boring town. Except for his muscles, which were glorious. His sturdy frame exuded strength from working on his family farm and wrestling all through high school. Hey, I knew more facts. Guess he got a second job here.

Brendan had never been much of a talker, and no temper went with his strength typically. However, if provoked in the right way, or if I asked very, very nicely, then things could get interesting. This one time—

“Stop it,” he ordered, feeling my stare.

Innocence wasn’t well suited to me, but I tried my best.  “I’m not doing anything.”

“Stop it,” he repeated.

“Is that any way to talk to a paying customer?” I scolded lightly.

“You haven’t ordered anything yet.”

Don’t mind if I do. “I’ll have a margarita on the rocks with a double shot of tequila.”

“Nice try.” Yes, I was 18, not 21, and— “We both know how you get with tequila in you.” Oh, well look who came out to play.

Eyes locking, focus narrowing, the atmosphere between us became positively smoldering. I smirked, body going loose and inviting. He did the opposite, crossing his arms as his face closed off. Yet his eyes radiated heat. If the bar weren’t in the way, one of us would be closing the distance between our bodies. Well, I wouldn’t let a little obstacle like that stop me. I reached out and—

“I told you to knock that off,” he spoke gruffly, side stepping my hand.

“You started it this time.”

“High school boys are so juvenile.”

“That’s not what you said when we—”

“I have another customer.” He left to bring a man at the other end of the bar his check. I watched Brendan’s green work shirt stretch taut over his big shoulders when Macy found me.

“Are we eating at the bar?” she asked as Brendan finished with his customer and came back our way.

“Nope.” I nodded over to him. “Just trying to sweettalk the barkeep here into parting with some of his finest or cheapest liquor, but he refuses.”

“I see. Maybe I could convince him?” She pushed her cleavage out towards him.

“Not a chance,” he answered without taking the bait.

“I’ll go get us a table,” she said to me and left.

“I see why you two get along,” Brendan noted.

I feigned offense. “If you’re implying that me or my lady friend are promiscuous—”

“I wouldn’t say anything of the sort about a nice girl I don’t even know.” He looked around before getting out a shot glass and filling it with tequila. “You though.” He slid the shot to me discreetly. “You’re a slut,” he said with a wink, his voice as dark and rich as the top shelf whiskey behind him.

“It pays off.” I down the drink quickly, feeling the heat of it in my throat, liquor seeming potent when coupled with his gaze. I took a breath, nodding to him and preparing to leave to go find my date.

“Hey, wait. Did you know I got accepted to Brown?”

“Mazel tov,” I responded, ignoring how the words felt somewhat unsettling on my tongue due to a complicated situation that had virtually nothing to do with me.

“Yep, so next week, I’m telling my parents I’m ga—” His eyes scanned our surroundings, afraid of being overheard. “Well, you know what I’m telling them.”

“I understand.” It would suck if someone overheard him here and outed him right before he planned on doing it himself.

“Anyway,” he spoke while bestowing me with the gift of another shot. “If you wanna get together after the big announcement? We could do something. You can help me celebrate if it goes well, or distract me if it doesn’t.”

This shot tasted even better than the first, head swimming pleasantly with liquor and ideas for our future encounter. I nodded my assent. “See you then.”

I went to join my date for the evening. I knew I was good, but setting up plans to hook up with one person while on a date with someone else?  Sometimes I even surprised myself. And these two people were both good times, and they weren’t looking for anything serious from me, exactly what I was looking for from them.

Basically, I was the best. My life was the best. Everything was incredible and not at all boring… okay. Occasionally, a stray thought about where I went from here entered my mind. How did one improve upon perfection?

Whatever. Life was good. And if I had to choose between life being good but boring or terrible but interesting, well. Luke once told me never to answer that question. It might be the only time he said something sensible enough to listen to.

-Order your copy here. The book comes out on Oct. 18