If at the end of the treasure hunt there will be still unmatched excerpts the giveaway will go to the one who matched more books.
The books are:
A Hunted Man by Jaime Reese
A Kingdom Lost by Barbara Ann Wright
A Place for Cliff by Talon ps
A Special Kind of Folk by Barry Brennessel
About Face by VK Powell
Ancient House of Cards by Bryan T. Clark
Another Healing by M. Raiya
Antidote by Jack L. Pyke
Because of Jade by Lou Sylvre
Beloved Pilgrim by Christopher Hawthorne Moss
Better Than Friends by Lane Hayes
Bird of Paradise by G.J. Paterson
Bite of the Recluse by Azalea Moone & Anais Morgan
Bonds of Denial by Lynda Aicher
Brokenhearted by Cate Ashwood
Camellia by Caitlin Ricci & Cari Z.
Carnal Sacraments by Perry Brass
Caught! By JL Merrow
Chasing the Dragon by Kate Sherwood
Chip off the Ice Block Murder by Jessie Chandler
Clean Slate by Andrea Bramhall
Corruption by Eden Winters
Desire at Dawn by Fiona Zedde
Dirty Beautiful Words by Brooklyn Brayl
Dissonance by Shira Anthony
Dudek by Taylor James
Educating Simon by Robin Reardon
Fight by Kelly Wyre
Filthy Acquisitions by Edmond Manning
Firestorm by Rory Ni Coileain
Forever Hold His Peace by Rebecca Cohen
Forgive Us by Lynn Kelling
Fractured by Mickie B. Ashling
Freak Camp: Posts From a Previously Normal Girl by Jessica V. Barnett
FutureDyke by Lea Daley
Games Boys Play by Zoe X. Rider
Gathering Storm by Alexa Land
Gin & Jazz 1- 4 (4 novellas: Hollywood Bound, Razzle Dazzle, Tarnished Glitter and Starring Role) by Morticia Knight
Girls Don't Hit by Geonn Cannon
Great Pleasures by Edward Southgate
Greg Honey by Russ Gregory
Happy Independence Day by Michael Rupured
Hard Pressed by Sharon Maria Bidwell
Hell & High Water (THIRDS, Book #1) by Charlie Cochet
Highfell Grimoires by Langley Hyde
His Fair Lady by Kimberly Gardner
Hoaley Inexplicable by Declan Sands
How Still My Love by Diane Marina
Hungry for Love by Rick R. Reed
If I Die Before I Wake by Liz McMullen
If We Shadows by D.E. Atwood
Ink & Flowers by J.K. Pendragon
It's Like This by Anne O'Gleadra
Lab Rat's Love by Ana J. Phoenix
Lesbian Crushes at School: A Diary on Growing Up Gay in the Eighties by Natasha Holme
Let the Lover Be by Sheree L. Greer
Like Jazz by Heather Blackmore
Love and Salvage: Loving Emmett by Mathew Ortiz
Love Is A Stranger by John Wiltshire
Love You Forever by Amelia Bishop
Lovers and Liars by Paul Alan Fahey
Mark of Cain by Kate Sherwood
Masquerade by Joy Lynn Fielding
Measure of Peace by Caethes Faron
Mirage by Tia Fielding
More Than Everything by Cardeno C.
Motel. Pool. By Kim Fielding
Murder and the Hurdy Gurdy Girl by Kate McLachlan
Murder on the Mountain by Jamie Fessenden
My Brother's Lover by Lynn Kelling
Nightingale by Andrea Bramhall
No Angel by Clare London
Omorphi by C. Kennedy
On Archimedes Street by Jefferson Parrish
Paradise at Main and Elm by Barry Brennessel
Paris Connection by J.P. Bowie
Passage by Evey Brett
Pick Up the Pieces by Tinnean
Piper by Leona Carver
Rapture, Sins of the Sinners by Fran Heckrotte & A.C. Henley
Rarely Pure and Never Simple by Angel Martinez
Rasputin's Kiss by L.M. Somerton
Rest Home Runaways by Clifford Henderson
Resurrection Man by K.Z. Snow
Return of an Impetuous Pilot by Kate McLachlan
Rocky Mountain Freedom by Vivian Arend
Running Through A Dark Place by Michael J. Bowler
Saving Liam by DP Denman
Serpentine Walls by CJane Elliott
Shades of Sepia by Anne Barwell
Shameful Desires 3: Unbound by P.J. Proud
Shirewode by J Tullos Hennig
Silent by Sara Alva
Slide by Garrett Leigh
Something Like Spring by Jay Bell
Splinters by Thorny Sterling
Stitch by Eli Easton, Sue Brown, Jamie Fessenden & Kim Fielding
Summerville by H.L. Sudler
The 42nd Street Jerking-off Club by Mykola Dementiuk
The Calm Before by Neena Jaydon
The Dead Past by Kate Aaron
The Empath by Jody Klaire
The Engineered Throne by Megan Derr
The Family We Make by Kaje Harper
The Genealogy of Understanding by Daniel M. Jaffe
The House on Hancock Hill by Indra Vaughn
The Last Conception by Gabriel Constans
The Line by J.D. Horn
The Mating of Michael by Eli Easton
The Memory of Blood & Lotuses by E.E. Ottoman
The Opera House by Hans M. Hirschi
The River Within by Baxter Clare Trautman
The Seventh Pleiade by Andrew J. Peters
The Thief Taker by William Holden
This Is Not a Love Story by Suki Fleet
Tournament of Shadows by S.A. Meade
True Stories Too: People and Places From My Past by Felice Picano
Turnbull House by Jess Faraday
Zenith by Arshad Ahsanuddin
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Today excerpts are:
Jay looked around his hotel room with bleary eyes.
Oh God, but he was tired. The flight had seemed like a lifetime of hell. After endless delays, he’d been trapped in a cramped seat next to the largest woman he’d ever seen, with an equally large husband who had hissed with impatience when Jay had asked them if he could go to the restroom. There was no possible way he could have squeezed by them or stepped over them. He’d even suggested one of them take his window seat so he wouldn’t have to disturb them again.
“Naw, that would just mean we’d have further to go to get out,” the husband had grumbled ungraciously before hefting his enormous gut into the aisle, ignoring the harrumphs of the people in front he’d almost unseated as he pushed their seats forward in order to get out.
Jay had looked unsuccessfully for a vacant place on his way back from the restroom, but the plane was packed and he’d had to face the tsks and glares from the fat couple when he’d returned. Two hours later he’d needed to pee again, but there was no way he’d incur the wrath of the titans sitting next to him. He kept hoping either one or both would have to go, so he could at the same time, but it seemed they had bladders to suit their size. By the time the plane landed, Jay was ready to burst.
They’d arrived in the wee small hours, the hotel shuttle bus had long gone and he’d been forced to take a cab, the fare of which was more than he’d budgeted for a full day of sightseeing and eating.
Ah well... I’m here, so stop grousing, he told himself. After a shower and a few hours’ sleep I’ll be fit for anything. I’m not going to miss any more of the day than I have to.
The room was small but nice with replica antique furniture, the dark wood set against creamy painted walls and bright cushions. Yawning mightily, he threw his bag onto the bed then grabbed what he needed for the shower. He’d unpack in the morning.
He almost fell asleep standing under the shower’s hot spray. So tired...
“What are you still doing here?” Brian wanted to know. “Aren’t they expecting you back at Geek Squad headquarters?”
I pointed a finger at him. “Don’t think I won’t bitch slap you, Chewbacca. Now who do you want me to call to come get your sweatpants-wearing ass?”
“Just go away.”
“Gladly. As soon as you tell me who to call.” I pulled my phone from my pocket and waved it in the air.
“I can dial a damn phone, nerdboy. Leave.”
“Is your phone on you?”
“No, it’s inside.” He rolled over to the door and tried the handle, then ran a hand over his
“Lock yourself out?” I asked, and he sighed and glared at me. “Here, use mine.” I held the phone out to him, and he looked at it and then looked away.
“Don’t tell me, let me guess. You’ve alienated all of your friends and family with this angry-at-the-world pity party you’ve had going on for God knows how long, and now there’s no one to call. Am I right?”
“I’m exactly right, aren’t I?”
That pissed him off, and he yelled, “Just go to hell, you fucking f—”
I cut him off, getting right in his face and yelling back, “I swear to God, if you say faggot
I will force feed you your nasty-ass ZZ Top beard!”
Surprisingly, he grinned, just a little. Then he said, “I was going to say fucker.”
“You were going to call me a fucking fucker?”
“Yeah, I was.” When I shot him a look, he added, “What? It’s not like I rehearsed it.”
That tiny grin still lingered.
“Do I amuse you?” I asked, straightening up and putting my hands on my hips again.
“You just threatened to force feed me my beard. Was that not supposed to be amusing?”
“I’m colorful. So sue me.” I waved the phone again and said, “Really? There’s not a single person you want to call?”
He closed the box and brought it to the bathroom, then went and got his computer. He sat on the side of the bathtub and found a website on how to pierce ears professionally. Most of the instructions cautioned that it was much safer to have it done by a professional rather than in the home. Unsterilized piercing could lead to infections, they cautioned, and infections, if left untreated, could lead to death.
Cooper would hate him for doing this. Oh well, Cooper wasn't here.
Following the instructions carefully, he heated the piercing needle over an open flame and then dunked it in the bottle of sanitizer for good measure. Then he swabbed his ear with the sterilizer, and even found the piercing cork in Cooper's supplies to position behind his ear. He used the thin marker to place the black dot on his ear where he wanted it, and then he stood and stared at himself in the mirror for half an hour.
There were so many reasons that he wanted to do this. Everything that had happened to him, so much change, and none of it had been directly his own doing. It had all been influenced by others, all forced. This was something he could change for himself, something that would be his, and only his. If only he wasn't such a coward. His hands were shaking and sweaty under the gloves. I'm insane, said a voice in his head. I can't do this. But he wasn't going to listen to that. He picked up the needle with shaking hands and placed the cork behind his ear. Eyes open, deep breath. Don't think, just do it.
His hand wouldn't move. It only jerked a little from side to side and continued to shake. He let out a deep breath and sat down on the side of the tub again, the needle clutched precariously between his shaking fingers. Luke blinked and a few hot tears leaked out. Damnit, he needed to do this.
He stood again, grabbed the cork, and in a quick motion, shot the needle towards his ear.
Nothing. His hand froze again, moments before it hit the skin.
Luke gritted his teeth. "No, come on," he said out loud to himself "I can do this."
The sterilized earring sat on the alcoholsoaked cotton swab in front of his watering eyes, taunting him. He could feel his mouth starting to quiver, his nose running from the tears. He closed his eyes again, and imagined the needle going into his ear. Imagined the pain. Yeah, it was going to hurt, but this was what he wanted. He was going to do it, and it was going to hurt, and then it would be over.
"Come on," he whispered to himself, and then, with a swift motion, he grabbed the needle and the cork, and stabbed.
Oscar and I fell easily into conversation, blushing at each other, both of us giggling like Japanese schoolgirls. He’s from a little town in Texas—population 5,000—and grew up on a farm and ranch before escaping to Houston to study design. He moved to NYC in 1997, and fell in with an architecture company that taught him furniture design, which he loves and still does. It was so easy picturing him as the cutest little gay boy growing up in rural Texas, dreaming of escape to a place where he would be valued and not mocked.
God, his face. His laugh. So cute. So very cute.
He laughs at my jokes.
He last had a boyfriend in 2003. His last date was in 2004. Which was also the last time he had sex. Oscar is closing in on a year without sex, and hopes to achieve that goal, although, he told me sheepishly, he still “takes care of business” every day.
So, I ask, why? Why? Why no sex?
Because he wants it to mean something again. Because he wants to get to know the guy first, wants an emotional and spiritual dimension to lovemaking, because, in his words, he wants it to be magic again.
And now I am the world’s biggest whore.
“When did you last have sex?” he asks me.
“I’m not answering that,” I reply.
“Why?” he persists. “Was it today?”
“I don’t want to answer this question,” I say, calling the female bartender over to refill my drink.
“It was yesterday,” he confirms to himself, and he laughs.
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