For those of you who love M/M romance, cats, and farm critters the next release in my Toms & Tabbies series is sure to please!
Early to Rise releases on 4/1/15 exclusively from Torquere Press. It`s a romantic-comedy about a city boy who packs up and moves to his uncle`s farm after being stood up at his own wedding. It has tons of laughs, gay romance, action in and out of the bedroom, and a heaping helping of rural flavor!
You can preorder Early to Rise here:
Torquere Press Store - Early to Rise
Amazon - Early to Rise
Check out this adorable cover!
And below are the blogs that have signed up for Pride Promotions Book Blast for Early to Rise. If you can, stop by these wonderful blogs for a visit on March 25th.
There are few things worse than being left at the altar by the man you thought loved you. Just ask Simon Wilder. He knows all about it. He also knows a thing or two about getting fired. It`s been a rotten week for Simon and making major life decisions during such turmoil may not be the wisest thing Simon has ever done. Or is it?
Packing up his clothes, his collection of Tony Orlando CD`s, and his cat, Sambuca, Simon leaves the hustle and bustle of Philadelphia behind and heads out to live on his uncle Tiberius` farm in the mountains of Pennsylvania. Starting over on the farm where he vacationed once as a child is a going to be just what the doctor ordered, as long as that doctor is the good-looking large animal veterinarian, Gentry Martin. Is a sexy country vet the cure for a love-sick city boy?
PG Excerpt: (Mature Language)
"Hello, my name is Simon Wilder and I was told that your employer may be looking for a temporary employee with some medical office or admitting experience?"
She snorted, leaned back in her office chair and rubbed the mammoth belly hidden under a blue maternity top. The duck quacked loudly.
"Temporary? God, I hope not." She patted the mound of baby under her maternity blouse then pushed to her feet with a groan. "This will be my third. I'm planning to start homeschooling my older two, so this will be fulltime if you're hired." She waddled around the desk, took my resume, read it, which I found rather forward, and then dashed (or what one would call a dash were she nine months less pregnant) through an adjoining door. I stood there looking foolish while Willie Nelson lamented being on the road once more. A dog sneezed. Someone coughed. I smiled at the humans who were staring at me openly. Within a minute Jemma returned, looking quite like a cat who had just found out how to get into the aviary. "Go right in. He's got a patient, but he can talk while he examines."
With her hand firmly planted in the middle of my back I was shoved into the doctor's office. The man running his hands over a goat kid was not Old Doc Jepson. I'd had this vision of an old, doddering country vet with a big belly, white hair, and round glasses on the end of his nose: Saint Nick with a degree in animal care, if you will. This man was about as far from that as one could get. The gorgeous man who had freed me from my car outside Donna's Diner blinked, clearly as stunned as I was. He looked damned good in that white medical coat, I must admit. He was trying to examine the goat.
"So we meet again," he said at the same time the goat blatted. It was a cute little thing with black and white spots.
"Yes, we do. I have to say that I'm not sure if I'm actually qualified for... That goat just pooped on the exam table." I pointed at a rather runny looking mess splattered on the stainless steel tabletop.
"Yeah, he has diarrhea. And a slight fever. I'm thinking it might be a case of coccidiosis. Would you hold him so I can grab a fecal sample?"
"Sure?" What the hell was I doing? I took the speckled goat's collar in my fingers. "This is my best suit," I pointed out. The doctor made an "uh-huh" sort of sound. "So why are you here? You're not Old Doc Jepson."
"No, I'm not. Doc Jepson passed over a year ago. I was his associate. Now, I'm the chief cook and bottle-washer. Gentry Martin." He held out a hand covered in a rubber glove. My nose wrinkled as we shook quickly.
"As well as collector of runny goat poop," I said while trying to keep the runny goat's butt away from my trousers. Gentry chuckled at me. I liked the feeling making him happy made in my gut. Damn. What was with the fuzzy-warms already?
"Yeah, and collector of runny goat poop," he agreed as he gathered his sample and put it on a slide. "I'll just be a few minutes. Try to keep Dwight calm."
Just like that, Gentry, the handsome vet, was gone. The door remained cracked open. I looked deeply into Dwight's funny goat eyes. "Do not even think of shitting on me."
"Blahhhh!" his tongue stuck out when he bleated. He had terrible breath. People kept these things as pets?
"Long as we're on the same page."
"Sounds like you and Dwight are getting along well." I looked from the goat to the vet to find Gentry smiling at us. My pulse picked up at the flash of even white teeth. "The results will be back in a bit, so if we can take Dwight back to the last holding pen in the sheep/goat barn, we'll grab a minute to talk between patients."
He had a stray lock of golden hair that was playing coy with his eyebrow. What I wouldn't give to move that lock with a warm puff of breath, then drop a soft kiss to his bristly cheek.
"Simon? If you let go, I'll take him out." Heat flooded my face.
"Of course," I said as I dropped the collar. Gentry swooped the poopy goat up without care for his lab coat, which is why he wore one, probably. I fell in behind him as he pushed through the back door from the exam room. We walked through a long corridor with several doors, then we stepped outside. Another goat ran up to us, as well as a pack of sheep. Now that they were closer I could smell the sheep. Gentry gently placed the tiny goat into the pen. The kid walked out of the shade of the barn to lounge in the sunshine. Gentry turned to me and leaned his backside against the weathered barn boards. I didn't dare look at the man any longer. I had already pushed the boundaries with my fascination with that lock of hair. I started talking to break the sudden verbal stranglehold both of us seemed to be caught in.
"Hopefully once you look over my resume and compare it with the other candidates you'll see that-- I'm sorry, did I say something funny?" I asked when he chuckled softly.
"You're the only candidate." He pulled my folded resume out of the back pocket of his faded jeans, his lovely eyes moving over me. I shuffled uncomfortably. "And a very nicely dressed one at that. You might want to dress down when you come in tomorrow. Bring some barn boots. I always take my new office staff along when I make house calls. Gives them a real feel for the practice."
"You make barn calls. That's quaint," I remarked wondering if this was actually happening.
"Well, it's kind of hard to find a pet carrier big enough to hold a Hereford bull," he teased. I felt a slight easing of that uncomfortable knot of anxiety. "I have to ask." His blue eyes were twinkling with mischief. I tipped my head to the left then cocked an eyebrow. "Have you ever palpated a cow?"
"A gentleman never tells." Gentry threw back head and laughed. I rocked up to my toes. Yep. I had amused him. His laughter was the kind that would make me say stupid things just so I could hear it again. Deep, rich, genuine. I suspected I might be somewhat smitten.
"You'll do just fine. That is if you still want the job, Mr. Wilder. Or can I call you Simon?"
"You most certainly can call me Simon. Thank you!" I enthused, grabbing his hand and pumping it rapidly. "I'll be here at eight tomorrow! Sans tie and jacket."
"I look forward to working with you," Dr. Gentry Martin said, his fingers clinging to mine.
The feeling was entirely mutual.