Giveaway: Boy Meets Boy Meets Boy by JL Merrow and Josephine Myles

BMBMBBoy Meets Boy Meets Boy

A Mad About the Brit Boys anthology by JL Merrow and Josephine Myles

Release date: 15th March 2016

Buy link: Amazon

Word Count: 15,000

Price: $0.99/£0.99/€0.99

Cover art: Lou Harper

Other titles in the series:

Mad About the Boys

Boys Who Go Bump in the Night

Help, My Boyfriend’s an Alien!

Truly, Madly, Boys (coming May 2016)

Giveaway: Jo and Jamie are gifting one lucky commenter with a book from each of their backlists.

photo credit: Three Investigators (CC) via photopin (license)

Anthology blurb:

Good men come in threes!

Three’s definitely not a crowd in this trio of contemporary erotic male/male/male ménages with a very British flavour from gay romance favourites Josephine Myles and JL Merrow.

Let your fantasies run wild as you take in the fit bodies down at the gym, or enjoy a very special birthday present from a loving partner. And even a trip to the dentist can be enjoyable with the right sort of distraction!

These stories have all been previously published, but are now available exclusively in this anthology.

Anthology introduction by Josephine Myles (taken from the ebook):

I do love a good threesome.

Err, a fictional one, that is. Because there is such a thing as too much information, and I don’t know about you, but I sometimes I prefer not to know what people get up to behind closed doors.

Okay, so that’s a lie. I’m a writer and we’re notoriously nosy people. I’ve always been one for peeping into people’s houses—winter evenings are perfect for this, especially in December as most folk like to keep the curtains open to show off their Christmas trees. However, I’ve only once been rewarded by spying a couple shagging, and I suspect they were exhibitionists anyway as they were doing it by a busy pub.

But I digress; this is less about my voyeuristic tendencies and more about my love of a fictional ménage. Just what is it that appeals about a good threesome? Okay, so there’s all the smutty possibilities that suddenly become apparent when you add in a few extra limbs, appendages and places to shove said appendages—but it’s not all about the sex. To be honest, writing ménage sex scenes tends to give me a headache what with having to make it clear to the reader who is doing what to whom, and it’s especially complicated when all three participants are the same gender.

What makes a threesome really interesting to me as a writer is thinking through all the emotional entanglements—ones that can be brought to the surface even by a seemingly casual encounter, such as the one in my story for this anthology. Indeed, I so enjoyed the process of writing this story that I ventured into writing a full length ménage romance, which allowed me to explore the dynamics of a three-way relationship in more depth.

While Jamie has never written a novel length ménage romance, I’ve always loved reading her m/m/m shorts. Incidentally, two of the stories here were first published in an anthology of threesome shorts from Dreamspinner Press back in 2010, and that was our first ever joint anthology credit. I still remember how privileged I felt to have a story in the same anthology as her! And although we’ve had many joint anthology projects since, she’s still a writer I’m thrilled to team up with, honest guvnor (I have to put that in or Jamie will punish me! [Jamie: This is true])

We might not write many short stories these days, but we haven’t run out of old ones to republish just yet, so keep your eyes peeled for at least one more Mad About the Brit Boys anthology.

Happy reading,

Jo x

Josephine Myles, February 2016

Individual story blurbs:

Kit Bag by JL Merrow

Working late at the gym one night, Kit’s delighted when two of his fantasies made flesh come in for a workout. The guys he’s dubbed Black Muscle Vest and Grey Sweats are tall, gorgeous and insanely built, and Kit can hardly take his eyes off their glistening, pumped-up muscles.

But he’s not the only one who’s been dreaming of a little hot and sweaty man-on-man-on-man action. Harry and Sven are only too happy to make Kit’s fantasy a reality in the changing room—and Kit’s going to get a workout of his own he’ll never forget!

Unwrapped: The Birthday Gift by Josephine Myles

All Dave wants for his birthday is a threesome, and his devoted boyfriend Mark is keen to oblige. Enter Pedro, the mysterious stranger they pick up from the pub. Taking him home with them promises a scorching encounter… if only Dave can deal with his nerves first!

Getting a Filling by JL Merrow

Ivo’s terrified of going to the dentist, even with his lover, Colin, there for moral support. But when the dentist turns out to be gorgeous—and gay—fear turns to flirtation. The next time Ivo ends up in the dentist’s chair it’s a lot more fun, as the support Colin and Ted give him is very immoral indeed.

Author bios

JL Merrow is that rare beast, an English person who refuses to drink tea. She read Natural Sciences at Cambridge, where she learned many things, chief amongst which was that she never wanted to see the inside of a lab ever again. Her one regret is that she never mastered the ability of punting one-handed whilst holding a glass of champagne.

She writes across genres, with a preference for contemporary gay romance and mysteries, and is frequently accused of humour. Her novel Slam! won the 2013 Rainbow Award for Best LGBT Romantic Comedy, and her novella Muscling Through and novel Relief Valve were both EPIC Awards finalists.

JL Merrow is a member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association, International Thriller Writers, Verulam Writers’ Circle and the UK GLBTQ Fiction Meet organising team.

Find JL Merrow online at: www.jlmerrow.com, on Twitter as @jlmerrow, and on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/jl.merrow

English through and through, Josephine Myles is addicted to tea and busy cultivating a reputation for eccentricity. She writes gay erotica and romance, but finds the erotica keeps cuddling up to the romance, and the romance keeps corrupting the erotica. Jo blames her rebellious muse but he never listens to her anyway, no matter how much she threatens him with a big stick. She’s beginning to suspect he enjoys it.

Jo publishes regularly with Samhain, and now has over ten novels and novellas under her belt. Her novel Stuff won the 2014 Rainbow Award for Best Bisexual Romance, and her novella Merry Gentlemen won the 2014 Rainbow Award for Best Gay Romantic Comedy. She has also been known to edit anthologies and self-publish on occasion, although she prefers to leave the “boring bits” of the ebook creation process to someone else. She loves to be busy, and is currently having fun trying to work out how she is going to fit in her love of writing, dressmaking and attending cabaret shows in fabulous clothing around the demands of a preteen with special needs and a soon-to-be toddler.

Website and blog: http://josephinemyles.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/josephine.myles.author

Twitter: @JosephineMyles

Excerpt from Getting a Filling by JL Merrow

“You,” Colin said decisively, prodding Ivo painfully in the ribs, “are the world’s biggest wuss.”

Ivo glared at his lover. “Excuse me? I think you’ll find, actually, I’m being extremely brave here. I’m not trembling in fright at home, pretending it’s all going to go away. Oh, no. I’m here. Standing tall—”

“Sitting on a comfy chair, actually.”

“—and facing up to my fears. I think you’ll find that’s the very definition of bravery.”

Colin made an annoying sort of tsk sound with his tongue. “And I think you’ll find that most grown men in your situation would not call this anything even remotely like bravery. Especially seeing as you dragged me along to hold your hand. You’re not marching into battle, Ivo. You’re not about to have experimental brain surgery. You’re not even going bloody bungee jumping. You’re at the dentist’s! For a check-up. How terrifying can it be?”

Ivo was wounded. “I had a bad experience at the dentist’s when I was little, I’ll have you know. It scarred me for life.” He shuddered at the memory. “You never saw the dentist I used to have to go to. His surgery was in a big old house like the one in the Amityville horror films.”

“A perfectly ordinary terraced house in the High Street, no doubt.”

“Well, it looked scary enough when I was a kid. All Masonic patterned tiles and Gothic windows. And the dentist was an absolute ringer for Vincent Price. It was bloody terrifying, seeing him looming over you with a drill.”

“Well, it should have taught you not to eat so many sweeties, then, shouldn’t it?” Colin said with the smug air of one blessed with a take-it-or-leave-it attitude to sugar and naturally strong teeth. “If it wasn’t for your chocolate addiction, we wouldn’t even be here. I’ve never had to have a filling in my life.”

“Which is why there’s nothing intrinsically manly about you being so bloody blasé about trips to the dentist. You’ve never had reason to be scared.” A shiver ran through Ivo’s frame. “All the times I had gas at the dentist’s, feeling that horrible taste in my mouth and wondering if I’d ever wake up…”

“You can’t feel a taste, Ivo,” Colin put in dismissively, picking up a battered copy of Reader’s Digest apparently for the sole purpose of dropping it again with a shudder.

“Maybe I’m synaesthetic,” Ivo muttered sulkily. “Just because you haven’t experienced something doesn’t mean it isn’t a perfectly valid—”

“Would you like to come in now, Mr Eccles?” The nurse smiled around the waiting room door. Ivo felt a sudden flash of loathing for her, with her starched white uniform and her perfect nails and her friendly manner. He took a deep breath. No. The nurse was not the enemy.

Merely a collaborator. Ivo wondered what she’d look like with that artfully highlighted hair shorn off and a badge of shame hung around her neck reading Dentist Lover.

“Mr Eccles?”

Scrambling to his feet, Ivo squared his shoulders. He might be heading towards unimaginable terror and suffering, but by God he’d show some good old-fashioned British backbone. Unfortunately, his voice didn’t seem to be playing along. It came out in a bit of a squeak. “You’re coming with me, right, Colin?”

Colin sighed. “If I have to.”

As Ivo walked into the surgery, the smell hit him. A mix of antiseptic and that horrid pink stuff they made you rinse your mouth out with after they’d finished their sadistic little round of torture. And a faint whiff of mint. Uniquely dentist, it transported Ivo back to his childhood and his mother’s harassed voice, promising him a whole box of Smarties if he’d only, please, just try to be good at the dentist’s this time.

“Ivo, you’re hurting my hand,” Colin hissed in his ear. Ivo let go hurriedly.

And then he looked at the dentist, and all his anxiety seemed to drain away. Right along with most of the blood in the upper portions of his body. It seemed to be heading south so fast Ivo was vaguely surprised he didn’t keel straight over on the floor, leaving just his dick standing up and waving enthusiastically. The dentist was absolutely bloody gorgeous. Well, what could be seen of him was, at any rate. Green eyes twinkled above his surgical mask, and dark, almost black curls poked out from under his cap. The whole effect was Pan, gone middle-class professional. Ivo found himself wondering if there might be two tiny horns nestling in those curls under the cap. And as for the rest of him… His tight white tunic (and how come Ivo had never realised just how sexy a tunic could be?) seemed to strain to contain his muscular chest, and his trousers clung lovingly to rock-hard thighs.

Ivo heard Colin’s sharp intake of breath and knew his lover was just as affected by the sight as he was. It was one of the many reasons he felt so lucky having Colin; they had very similar tastes in men.

“Ah, Mr Eccles? If you’d like to take a seat.” The dentist waved politely at the chair, which looked more like a couch in its present semi-reclined state. Really, you could get up to all sorts of things in a chair like that.

“Ivo,” Ivo told him as he moved forward, drawn by the lure of that mellow voice. “Please, call me Ivo.”

NEW RELEASE: TO LOVE A TRAITOR BY JL MERROW

Blurb:

Wounds of the heart take the longest to heal.

When solicitor’s clerk George Johnson moves into a rented London room in the winter of 1920, it’s with a secret goal: to find out if his fellow lodger, Matthew Connaught, is the wartime traitor who cost George’s adored older brother his life.

Yet as he gets to know Matthew—an irrepressibly cheerful ad man whose missing arm hasn’t dimmed his smile—George begins to lose sight of his mission.

As Matthew’s advances become ever harder to resist, George tries to convince himself his brother’s death was just the luck of the draw, and to forget he’s hiding a secret of his own. His true identity—and an act of conscience that shamed his family.

But as their mutual attraction grows, so does George’s desperation to know the truth about what happened that day in Ypres. If only to prove Matthew innocent—even if it means losing the man he’s come to love.

This is a novel-length expansion of previously published novella.

Available now from SamhainAmazon.comAmazon.co.uk and ARe

NEW RELEASE: PLAYED BY JL MERROW

Blurb:

All the world’s a stage…but real-life lessons are hidden in the heart.

The Shamwell Tales, Book 2

Though Tristan must join his family’s New York firm at summer’s end—no more farting around on stage, as his father so bluntly puts it—he can’t resist when Shamwell’s local amateur dramatics society begs him to take a role in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

The bonus: giving private acting lessons to a local handyman who’s been curiously resistant to Tristan’s advances. Not only is Con delicious, there’s fifty pounds riding on Tristan getting him in his bed.

A late-diagnosed dyslexic, Con’s never dared to act, convinced he’d never be able to learn his lines. But with Tristan’s help, he takes the chance. Trouble is, the last time Con fell for a guy, he ended up getting his heart broken. And with Tristan due to leave the country soon, Con is determined not to start anything that’s bound to finish badly.

Just as Tristan thinks he’s finally won Con’s heart—and given his own in return—disaster strikes. And the curtain may have fallen forever on their chance for happiness.

Available now at Samhain, Amazon.com.co.uk and ARe

NEW RELEASE: JACK IN THE GREEN BY JL MERROW

Blurb: 

Stranded in a remote country village in 1920s England when his car breaks down, shy young Arthur finds himself drawn to the rough mechanic who comes to his aid, Bob Goodman. Forced to stay until the May Day holiday is over, Arthur makes the best of it, enjoying the village procession and fete.

But the villagers seem to know more about him than they should, and there’s a second, darker, May celebration that starts when the sun’s gone down. In the drunken revelry that follows, Arthur is whisked off in a wild dance by Goodman, who plays the part of Jack in the Green, the spirit of the greenwood.

Dancing turns to loving, but is everything what it seems? And is one night all Arthur can have?
Excerpt: (found at JMS Books)

The Morris men were no longer in their gleaming white shirtsleeves; to a man they had blacked their faces and donned their ragged coats, and the bells were silenced. The clash of their staves together now seemed to Arthur sinister, almost threatening. He shivered in the cool of the evening.

“I thought only one of the men was to have a coat of rags — their, ah, wardrobe master, or whatever they term him?” Arthur ventured to Mrs Ives, who stood proudly by his side as her husband and daughter processed past.

“That may be how they do things in some parts,” she told him with a sniff, “but it’s not the way of things here. You ask Bob Goodman, he’ll set you straight.”

And then, as if to speak his name were to conjure him forth, Jack in the Green himself came whirling into their midst. No longer a stately observer, now he seemed determined either to lead the dance, or to subvert it. Arthur stared as the giant figure flung itself about as if the great costume were merely a featherweight. There were cries of “Jack! Jack!” and other calls that Arthur didn’t understand.

“Where’s Robin?” a swarthy fellow by Arthur’s side shouted out across the revellers, his call almost deafening in Arthur’s ear.

“A bowshot hence in Inglewood!” came a reply from the other side of the lane, with the curious ring of an oft-repeated ritual.

“And the maid?” came the ear-splitting riposte. Arthur braced himself for another cry.

The dancers stopped.

The sudden stillness was almost as confusing to Arthur’s senses as the constant, whirling motion had been. Slowly, stealthily it seemed, Jack in the Green crept nearer to where Arthur stood — if such a monstrous being could be said in any sense to creep.

Even the evening breeze that had whispered its way down Arthur’s collar earlier seemed to be waiting, breath caught, for the answer.

“Who knows?” came Bob Goodman’s voice, soft but clear in the silence, sending a not unpleasant tingle down Arthur’s spine.

“An’ who the hell cares?” roared a Morris man, and amidst loud laughter and renewed beating of the staves, Arthur found himself seized by the hands and swung into the melee. Scrabbling not to lose his footing and fall, Arthur let the Morris men pull him along, turning him until he was dizzy, now pulling him into the fray until he feared he’d be injured by those great cudgels they wielded, now pushing him back out until his cheek rasped against twiggy foliage as Jack in the Green saved him from the ignominy of a fall.

Arthur’s head was reeling by the time they reached the green and the great bonfire set up there. The Morris men let out a great cry and began to dance around its flickering light. Arthur, it seemed, had been entirely forgot.

Satyrs, Arthur thought. They’re like satyrs, revelling in Arcadia.

The young women of the village were there already, bare of foot and loose of hair, waiting to welcome their queen to her own bacchanal. Arthur caught one last glimpse of Lily’s face, shining in the firelight, and then she was gone with her sisters to who knew where.

“Watching the women? Now, we both know that’s not your usual pursuit, my fair young lad.”

Goodman.

He had divested himself of his leafy encumbrance, yet the outlandish guise appeared to have left a lasting mark upon his character. There was no sign, now, of the respectful tradesman. He spoke to Arthur as to an equal.

Or at least, Arthur hoped that he did.

The breeze had picked up once more. Arthur shivered.

“If you’re wanting to get warm, my lad, it seems to me you should be getting closer to the fire,” Goodman said softly. “Or, as might be, farther away.”

Arthur swallowed, and started as a calloused hand grasped his own and pulled it up to roughened lips. He could feel the stubble that always darkened Goodman’s jaw rasp against his knuckles as black eyes looked deep inside him.

Available now from JMS BooksAmazon.comAmazon.co.uk and ARe

 

NEW RELEASE: HEAT TRAP BY J L MERROW

Blurb:

The wrong secret could flush their love down the drain.

The Plumber’s Mate, Book 3

It’s been six months since plumber Tom Paretski was hit with a shocking revelation about his family. His lover, P.I. Phil Morrison, is pushing this as an ideal opportunity for Tom to try to develop his psychic talent for finding things. Tom would prefer to avoid the subject altogether, but just as he decides to bite the bullet, worse problems come crawling out of the woodwork.

Marianne, a young barmaid at the Devil’s Dyke pub, has an ex who won’t accept things are over between them. Grant Carey is ruthless in dealing with anyone who gets between him and Marianne, including an old friend of Tom and Phil. Their eagerness to step in and help only makes them targets of Grant’s wrath themselves.

With Tom’s uncertainty about Phil’s motives, Tom’s family doing their best to drive a wedge between them, and the revelation of an ugly incident in Phil’s past, suddenly Tom’s not sure whom he can trust.

The body in the Dyke’s cellar isn’t the only thing that stinks.

Excerpt:

COMING SOON: HEAT TRAP BY J L MERROW

Blurb:

The wrong secret could flush their love down the drain.
The Plumber’s Mate, Book 3
It’s been six months since plumber Tom Paretski was hit with a shocking revelation about his family. His lover, P.I. Phil Morrison, is pushing this as an ideal opportunity for Tom to try to develop his psychic talent for finding things. Tom would prefer to avoid the subject altogether, but just as he decides to bite the bullet, worse problems come crawling out of the woodwork.
Marianne, a young barmaid at the Devil’s Dyke pub, has an ex who won’t accept things are over between them. Grant Carey is ruthless in dealing with anyone who gets between him and Marianne, including an old friend of Tom and Phil. Their eagerness to step in and help only makes them targets of Grant’s wrath themselves.
With Tom’s uncertainty about Phil’s motives, Tom’s family doing their best to drive a wedge between them, and the revelation of an ugly incident in Phil’s past, suddenly Tom’s not sure whom he can trust.
The body in the Dyke’s cellar isn’t the only thing that stinks.
Pre-order at Samhain and Amazon

New Release: JL Merrow – Batteries Not Included

How would you react if you woke up one morning to find you were in bed with your favorite rock star? More to the point: how would the rock star react?

Animal rescue worker Sam is content to live a quiet life, dreaming of an unattainable man, rock sensation Cain Shepney.  Trouble is, his meddling mother, Lilith, thinks he deserves to have all his dreams come true—and she isn’t above performing a little magic to achieve her ends!  Sam’s shocked to wake up one morning to find himself actually in bed with his celebrity crush—but that’s nothing to how Cain feels about it! Suddenly Sam’s got to deal with an irate, naked, andvery distracting rock star in his bed.

Cain has it all—he’s good-looking, famous, and adored by millions. But his life takes a turn for the surreal when he wakes up in bed with Sam. Expecting everyone to be worried sick by his disappearance, Cain’s horrified to find his manager—and even his mum—insisting that he’s an imposter, and that the real Cain Shepney is right where he belongs.

Sam just wants to help, but with Cain convinced he’s a crazed, celebrity-kidnapping stalker, Sam’s got his work cut out to convince the object of his affections to trust him long enough to find out just what the hell’s going on.

Available in ebook:  JMS Books | Amazon UK | Amazon US

Note:this story first appeared in the 2010 Dreamspinner Advent Calendar, now out of print. This version has been re-edited, but not substantially altered.

EXCERPT:

I swung my legs off the bed, glad I’d slept in my boxers. “Um. Would you like some breakfast while you wait?”

Cain glared at me. “You think I’m eating or drinking anything you give me? I should have you arrested. Bloody date-rapist!”

We both jumped when the phone rang. Cain snatched it up. “Hello?” His face drained of colour, completing the Goth look. “What? What the hell do you –? No, of course it’s not a bloody hoax! Well, did she check? Neil? Neil?” Cain stared at the phone for a moment, then put it down without looking. It missed the bedside table and hit the carpet with a dull thud.

“Look, maybe I’m jumping to conclusions, here,” I said cautiously, “but — car not coming, after all?”

Cain looked at me, his eyes deep pits of despair, blacker than the kohl that surrounded them. “He said he’d rung my mum, and she’d told him the real Cain Shepney was snoring in his bed over at hers, just like he was supposed to be.”

I gave him a sympathetic grimace. “Mothers, eh? Look, you’ve got this all wrong, you know. I haven’t got a clue how you ended up here, either. And, you know, I don’t think anything actually happened last night.” At least, I bloody well hoped it hadn’t. I’d be gutted if I’d shagged Cain Shepney and then forgotten all about it. And I’d seen enough to be damn sure I’d have remembered it if he’d shagged me.

I stood up and stretched. Cain stepped back and pulled the duvet more tightly around himself. Possibly because, standing up, I was taller than him by around a foot. Or, you know, it could have been the raging stiffy that was doing its best to poke through my boxers in a way that could, in the circs, conceivably be viewed as threatening. “Er, sorry about that,” I said, looking down. “It’ll go away in a mo. I just need to think about my mother for a bit.”

“You sick bastard,” he muttered.

“Hey, not fair! Sick would be thinking about my mother to get a stiffy –” Oh, fuck. Thinking of Lilith had made me remember that bloody doll.