Showing posts with label autism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label autism. Show all posts

Thursday, November 18, 2021

RELEASE BLITZ & REVIEW - MF -Good Guys Don't Lie (The Boys #4) by Micalea Smeltzer

 



Good Guys Don't Lie by Micalea Smeltzer is now live!




I've been nothing but a failure to my parents my entire life. I know I'll never live up to their level of perfection, but it doesn't matter. Especially, when I'm about to fail the same class twice.

It seems like I'm doomed until my professor tells me he knows the perfect guy to tutor me—if he'll agree.

Cree Madison is the star player on the hockey team, bound for NHL superstardom, and my last hope. I'm willing to do almost anything for his help.

When I meet up with him, his eyes light up and he says, "I've been looking for you."
 
Only I don't know him, and I've never met him before now.

I'm willing to pretend to be whoever he wants me to be if it means I pass this class.

But lies have a way of getting out of hand and neither one of us is prepared for the fallout when everything comes to light.

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Download today or read for FREE with Kindle Unlimited!
http://mybook.to/goodguysdl

Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3mI4hdl

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My Rating - 4 Stars!

Good Guys Don't Lie is the fourth book in The Boys series. This Micalea Smeltzer series is a fun college sports series, which is one of my favorites. 

Cree and Ophelia are both likeable characters. I enjoy that Cree is much more than a student athlete. He is determined, thoughtful, and wonderfully swoony. Meanwhile Ophelia is way more than one would expect. She's sweet for sure and amazingly well developed. She has autism which is written is a refreshing way. The author excels in illustrating the way an autistic brain works differently and causes some problems with social issues for an autistic person. I absolutely love how this is all done and appreciate that she is shown as awkward at times, but never "less than." Well done. 

This one is definitely unique with a confusing and unexpected second chance. I don't want to spoil anything, but when Cree finally finds Ophelia again, she doesn't remember him. I could feel his emotions for her were genuine, but the author left me waiting to figure out why. It makes for a nice little guessing game. 

I am thrilled to finally get to Cree's story and enjoy it but something kept me from absolutely loving it the way I have other books in the series. I think it might be the lying game they were both playing. With both characters lying for so long, it kept them from truly being open and honest with one another. 

Overall Good Guys Don't Lie is a cute college romance. This Micalea Smeltzer read is low angst, high steam, and kept me entertained throughout. As for now, I am anxiously awaiting the next book in the series!!

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Micalea Smeltzer is a twenty-something author from Northern Virginia. She has four dogs, which is as crazy as it sounds. As a recent kidney transplant recipient she's dedicated to raising awareness around the effects of kidney disease, dialysis, and transplant as well as educating people on living donation. When she's not writing you can catch her with her nose buried in a book.
 
Connect with Micalea
Website | https://micaleasmeltzer.com/
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Thursday, December 17, 2020

Stay by Ash Knight


 
Amazon Link   - Available in KU
Goodreads Link





A quiet coffee shop gives two men who have lost too much a chance at love.

Joe Calloway has been on the run since he was sixteen, homeless and alone. He never lets anyone close. Between his traumatic past and his autism, he isn’t used to people taking the time to understand him.

Even so, when a stranger offers him a way to build a better life for himself, Joe finds the strength to go for it.

Madden Fields is fully devoted to his older sister, her autistic son, and his job as a nurse, but when he meets Joe, his carefully ordered life begins to pick up speed.

As their connection deepens, Madden realizes he’s going to have to hold on tight if he wants to be an anchor strong enough for Joe to stay.

“Stay” is a 88,000 words gay hurt/comfort romance novel.'





My Rating - 5 Stars!

Stay is an absolutely beautiful story. This Ash Knight tale is a wonderful hurt/comfort read. 

Omg, the first scene broke my heart. Joe and his bunny. I wanted to save them both. It's a truly heartbreaking scene that perfectly sets up the rest of the story. 

There's a lot going on in this story, but the main thing is that Joe is homeless, lived with some horrific abuse, and is on the spectrum. His autism is perfectly written, with the different way of processing things, and the literal thinking. The author illustrates his withdrawal, his fear, and his hiding. I appreciate how well the author approached all of this. It's definitely written with care and knowledge.

Before we even get to Madden, we need to discuss Lulu. What a wonderful woman. With her warmness, Joe finds a place to feel safe and calm, all while trying to rebuild his life. 

Awww, and then there's Madden. I love how Madden is drawn to Joe. Instantly. Against all common sense, Madden just can't stop thinking about Joe and making room for him in his life. 

Written in alternating 1st person pov, the men fully come to life, with their emotions front and center. The author develops a heartfelt romance, including some emotional first times. 

Stay is a sweet and tender story of falling in love and finding one's place in life. I couldn't put this Ash Knight book down. And if the ending doesn't bring a tear to your eye, then I don't know what will. 




Thursday, November 19, 2020

RELEASE BLITZ, EXCERPT & REVIEW - We Have Till Dawn by Cara Dee



We Have Till Dawn by Cara Dee

Series: Standalone

Genre: Gay Romance

Tropes: Autism, Musician, Age Difference, Role Play, Family, First-Time Experience


Goodreads Link

Amazon Link



It wasn’t like he’d never done this before...

Nicky Fender retired from sex work two years ago and never looked back. Then an offer he can’t refuse comes his way, and he agrees to one last exclusive arrangement. Good money and an apartment in Manhattan? He’d be a fool to turn that down. 

The deal is dusk till dawn for two months. But once he meets Gideon—an older, quirky, autistic, filthy, uncertain businessman who wants to explore his sexuality—Nicky wishes sunrise would never come.

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My Rating - 5+ Stars!

Wow! Just wow! We Have Till Dawn is an extraordinary tale. This Cara Dee tale is truly one I will never forget. 

Nicky and Gideon meet as an escort arrangement. The terms that Gideon has set for the two month arrangement are unique and definitely add to the feels. Everything starts with his rules, but it certainly doesn't stay as arranged. 

Nicky's emotions and arousal during their first meeting is so damn intense. Hell, most of this story is weighed down with emotional scenes like this. It's amazing! And hot! Very, very hot!

Gideon's autistic, which is well explored. He's always needed set terms and routines. He's easily thrown into panic attacks if overwhelmed. And damn, I'm completely impressed with the way Brett, and the author, handle his panic attacks. Brett is caring, loving, and nurturing. And the author writes everything with knowledge, care, and sensitivity. I wouldn't have changed a thing. 

And then there's the sexual exploration, which is the reason Nicky was hired. The ways in which Nicky helps Gideon feel safe are both touching and memorable.  If you know anyone on the spectrum, you are well aware how it makes them anxious to not be in control. Only extreme trust will allow them to let their defenses down. 

Everything about this story works for me. The writing is both splendid and honest. The way Cara illustrates Gideon's autism and anxiety is heartfelt, knowledgeable, and wonderfully unique. 

The men are both exceptional in their own ways. They're perfectly lovable as individuals, but together they excel. 

We Have Till Dawn is a phenomenal love story.  Cara Dee does an impressive job exploring the power of love; it's power to support, encouragement, and change a person fully. I love every single second of this story and am truly in awe of it's brilliance and depth. 

___________________________________________________________


Nicky Fender

“Let me get this straight,” I said, scanning the document. “The wife is the client? I mean, she’s the one setting her husband up with a male escort?”

“Correct.” Tina sat back as our server approached with dinner. “Well, her fiancĂ©.”

I hummed and kept my mouth shut until we were alone again. Fuck, the pizza looked good. Of course, meeting with Tina meant it had to be some fancy pizza. She wouldn’t be caught dead with a regular slice. She wouldn’t be caught dead in Brooklyn either, which was why I’d met up with her in Manhattan at some swanky Italian place. But hey, she was buying. 

“I’m waiting for the reason for why I’d agree,” I admitted bluntly. I hadn’t whored out my sweet ass in two years, and I was doing much better now. I worked three jobs for very little pay, I lived with my big brother, and I had practically no time for any hobbies. What’s not to love?

I’d thought about going back to Tina for some time, but whenever I considered it, there was this rock in the pit of my stomach that no amount of money could crush.

“I wanted you to see the requirements first,” she replied.

Well, there were a lot of them. I hadn’t gone through the entire list yet. After placing the document next to my plate, I cut into my fancy pizza and continued reading the list. There was plenty on hygiene, but nothing that went beyond what I was used to. I was to be blindfolded the whole time? All right… I’d never see the client’s face—or the client’s fiancĂ©—which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

“I get the impression from the client that the man wants to explore something before he agrees to marry her,” Tina revealed. I’d heard of weirder dynamics. “She hinted that it would be a one-time arrangement, and she placed emphasis on following instructions that seem to cover every inch of your body.”

Lovely.

“That’s a lot of exploring,” I pointed out. “He wants to meet with me four nights a week for two months.”

Tina lifted a shoulder in a slight shrug and sipped her wine.

More specifically, I had to be available for him between the hours of ten PM and six AM on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. I scratched my ear. The pay better be out of this world, ’cause I would have to quit at both Applebee’s and Starbucks. Not that I’d mourn those shifts, but I’d been at Applebee’s long enough to possibly make assistant manager when the current one quit next month. She was having a baby and moving to Jersey.

I stuck a piece of pizza into my mouth and eyed the requirements for safety, at which I almost choked on a pepperoni slice.

“How loaded is this couple?” I asked through a cough. The man demanded exclusivity, meaning I wasn’t allowed to be sexually active with anyone else for the duration of our arrangement. And that cost a fucking mint.

“Read on…” Tina smirked wryly.

I furrowed my brow—then spotted one of my few hard limits. I shook my head and wiped my mouth with the napkin. “No fucking way. Tina, you—no. Fuck this.”

I didn’t mess around without protection. Not a chance in hell.

“This is why I asked you, Nicky,” she told me patiently. “Considering your stance on protection and your sad little Facebook statuses on how single you are—” she ignored my glare “—not to mention that you’re not the type of guy who walks around with a string of hookups, I can count on you passing a screening with flying colors and taking on someone who wants exclusivity.

You’re my only candidate.”

“Candidate to say no,” I retorted.

Tina adopted a smug expression and reached down to dig something out of her purse. “There’s a reason I wanted to save the perks for last,” she said. “Okay, so you know the requirements. An exclusive arrangement for both parties—during which you’re sexually active only with each other—four nights a week for two months. You won’t see him. He won’t violate your limits—”

“Going unprotected is a limit, Tina,” I grated. Fuck, I was getting pissed. Part of me had carried foolish hope that this would be such a golden case that I’d jump on the opportunity and earn some good dough before the rock in my stomach returned.

“And when you’re an escort dealing with multiple clients a week, nothing else would make sense,” she answered, extending another document to me. “I wouldn’t even try to approach my other sex workers with this, Nicky. You’re the exception only because you quit the field.”

“Hmpf.” I cast a disgruntled look her way before I lowered my gaze to the piece of paper.

Ahem.

Holy fuck.

Three grand a week—minus Tina’s finder’s fee of ten percent—plus living arrangements. There would be a studio apartment in my name, so to speak, rent and utilities paid for by the client.

Corner of West 39th and Ninth Avenue—not a shabby address at all. One of my best friends lived in the Garment District. Adjacent to Hell’s Kitchen where another friend lived.

A Manhattan address and $3,000 a week for two months.

A guy could do worse.

I shifted in my seat and cleared my throat. “Is there, uh, any way to ensure safety by making sure the guy gets tested too?”

“Of course, Nicky.” The compassion in Tina’s crystal-blue eyes reminded me of the fact that she ran an ethical business based on choice and vetting. She didn’t headhunt sex workers; they had to come to her, and they—we—had to go through a selection process before she could, in good conscience, give us work.

Today, I was an exception for her, and my answer would be an exception too.

’Cause it looked like I was moving to Manhattan.

______________________________________________________________-


I’m often awkwardly silent or, if the topic interests me, a chronic rambler. In other words, I can discuss writing forever and ever. Fiction, in particular. The love story—while a huge draw and constantly present—is secondary for me, because there’s so much more to writing romance fiction than just making two (or more) people fall in love and have hot sex. There’s a world to build, characters to develop, interests to create, and a topic or two to research thoroughly. Every book is a challenge for me, an opportunity to learn something new, and a puzzle to piece together. I want my characters to come to life, and the only way I know to do that is to give them substance—passions, history, goals, quirks, and strong opinions—and to let them evolve. I want my men and women to be relatable. That means allowing room for everyday problems and, for lack of a better word, flaws. My characters will never be perfect.

Wait…this was supposed to be about me, not my writing. I'm a writey person who loves to write. Always wanderlusting, twitterpating, kinking, cooking, baking, and geeking. There’s time for hockey and family, too. But mostly, I just love to write.

Find Cara on social media here: https://www.caradeewrites.com/cdwlandingpage

Sunday, January 12, 2020

REVIEW - Love on the Spectrum by Alec Nortan




Title: Love on the Spectrum
Author: Alec Nortan
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: January 6, 2020
Heat Level: 1 - No Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 37900
Genre: Contemporary, LGBT, Contemporary, romance, gay, Asperger syndrome, burns victim, France, Paris, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, therapist

Add to Goodreads





Synopsis


HervĂ© has Asperger’s, a specific kind of autism that makes him unable to interact with other people.

Luc has been severely scarred by fire and flees human presence to avert the way people glare and frown when they see him.

It was impossible for them to meet, but life sometimes likes to cheat the odds. Is it just a trick or a way to bring together two men who could be each other’s lifeline?


Review 
My Rating - 4 Stars!



Alec Nortan's Love on the Spectrum expertly explores the difficulties with being on the spectrum; socially, work wise, and with dealing with the public. It's written with compassion and understanding, and includes some flashbacks to show Herve's struggles when he was younger.

The author does fantastic job illustrating the need to withdraw, and a few of the ways one can refocus to avoid a complete meltdown. I found myself impressed throughout. 

This is a short story of two men who are different, both struggling throughout their daily lives. One is on the spectrum, the other has scars on his face. These are two men who struggle in public and alone. And in a beautiful manner, these 
two men find someone who excepts them as they are.

Love on the Spectrum is a good story. It's short and doesn't get very deep, but it's a beautiful tale of finding love in the hardest of circumstances and it's well worth the read.



Excerpt

Love on the Spectrum
Alec Nortan © 2020
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
During their life, everyone meets thousands of people. Some of these encounters are fleeting, like the person you ask for directions in the street, and others last a lifetime. Each of them, as short or as long as it is, can change your life for the better or for the worse.

I’ve encountered maybe two hundred people. And that’s with a generous margin for error. A very generous margin. And yet I’m thirty-four and should have met a lot more. If I haven’t, it isn’t because I don’t want to, on the contrary. If I only consider the meaningful encounters, well, I’m down to a figure I can easily display with my fingers. The last one took place two years ago. His name is Pascal, and he made my life better. A whole lot better. We met through the Internet, the way of getting in touch with people I’m most comfortable with. Taking our time, we got to know each other, and he became an important part of my life. It wasn’t always easy for him, but he managed to accept my difficulties, and for the first time in my life I discovered what being in a relationship was really like. We weren’t quite ready yet to live together, but we were getting close.

And then, six months later, he dumped me. There was no fight, no argument, but it devastated me all the same. My problems had eventually gotten too tiresome for him. He simply couldn’t cope anymore, and I don’t think any less of him for that. Living with someone like me isn’t always easy. Quite the opposite. He had done all he could, but it hadn’t been enough.

My relationship with Pascal helped me understand one thing: I will spend my life alone. I’m not being dramatic; it’s just a simple observation. Even I can’t bear myself at times. If I can’t, who could?

What is my problem? To make it easy to understand, let’s say I am unable to interact with people. It probably sounds stupid put like this, but when sarcasm, irony, implied speech, and body language—well, all those elements that allow a conversation to take place—are completely foreign to you, a simple discussion with another human being can be quite hazardous to negotiate. And if on top of that you really cannot stand physical contact and noise, like me, you’re on a slippery slope toward the deepest pit of hell. I begin to slide as soon as I have to say hello…

When I say I have autism, in a desperate attempt to evade embarrassing situations, here are some of the answers I usually get:

“But it doesn’t show.”

Or

“Can it be cured?”

Or the most common reaction:

“That’s great! Can you count playing cards?”

No, I am not Rain Man, and most of the people who suffer from the same problem—Asperger syndrome—don’t have any kind of superhuman capabilities. And you can’t cure it. It would be like asking a one-legged man if he can be cured. No, it’s just a part of me. That and the fact you can’t see it when you look at me only makes it more difficult for people to understand. A one-legged man doesn’t have to explain that he only has one leg. A white cane or a service dog is usually enough for a blind person to be recognized as such.

I always have to justify myself.

Luckily for me, I’ve been going to a psychologist once a month for years. His specialty is autism, including Asperger syndrome. He helps me learn all those social rules that completely elude my grasp, and cope with my difficulties.

But it’s also because of him I’m standing here.

It’s a fine day. The weather is nice, the street is mostly empty. Although it’s almost noon, a few people pass by, and they walk purposefully, taking no notice of me except to avoid me. I’m standing still, almost stuck to the wall behind me, a white-stone building blackened by years of pollution. The sidewalk is barely wide enough for two people and gives way to a long line of parked cars and then a two-way street. On the other side is the same chain of cars, the same sidewalk, and the same dirty façades.

Despite all this, this part of the city welcomes lots of tourists, but this particular street is a little too far from the main avenues and the famous monuments to get their attention. If it were to be described by a saying, it would be “a secret life is a happy life.” Maybe that’s the reason why I like it. Because it likes to stay hidden. Just like I do. And this is definitely one of the reasons why I’m standing here right now.

The other reason is the small restaurant facing me. I’ve been looking at it for a little while now. The frontage isn’t very long, but a wide French window occupies almost all of it. Painted on the glass, blue letters spell out the words “The Scullion Restaurant–Traditional Cooking”. The text isn’t perfectly centered. It is about three inches too high for that, and the “C” and the “U” of Scullion are slightly too close to each other. The first “T” of Restaurant is also slightly tilted.

I am pretty certain no one else notices these imperfections, but they kind of jump out at me. I wonder if I shouldn’t have chosen another place.

But I’ve thought about this choice for a very long while, and I’ve even had to negotiate bitterly with my psychologist. The objective of the test is simple enough: having lunch at a restaurant. But he knows me too well to stop at such a simple goal. Without any further rules, I would have chosen the worst restaurant in the city, in a deserted part of town, to make sure there would be as few other clients as possible. I would even have gone in the early afternoon, when all the NTs have long since finished their meal—NT is short for Neurotypical, “normal” people as opposed to Aspies, the nickname for people like me with Asperger Syndrome—to have the greatest chance of seeing no one else other than the waiter, which is quite enough for me.

Knowing if he let the reins go I would choose an empty restaurant, which I have to admit would have rendered the exercise moot, my psychologist fought hard until we reached a compromise (more acceptable for him than for me) and chose a popular but small venue and a “normal” lunchtime.

This negotiation took place two days ago, and I’ve been anxious ever since. This morning, I woke up with my insides twisted. I almost broke into tears thinking about having breakfast alone at my place because it reminded me that my next meal would be a trial. When I was about to leave home to come here, instead of opening the door, I was sorely tempted to make sure it was safely locked and go hide in my bedroom under my blankets.

But here I am, in front of the restaurant. Inside, I feel like a gelatinous blob mounted on a drill. I still evaluate the chance of my running away before the time comes to enter at one in two.

I take a look at my watch.

12:58

My psychologist made the reservation—one of his dirty tricks to prevent me from bailing out—for one o’clock. He knows perfectly well I can’t stand lateness (or earliness) or an appointment cancellation without calling beforehand, and, as a consequence, I would never do that to someone else.

12:59

It’s too late to call the restaurant and cancel now. I stifle an emerging sob and move to the pedestrian crossing on my right. There are no cars passing, but I never cross a street elsewhere.

Just like every time I’m nervous, I’m tempted to embrace my old habits again. Right now, this means not stepping on the white paint of the crossing. I don’t know where I got that from, but it took me several sessions and a lot of training to be able to ignore the color of the ground I walk on.

I bite my bottom lip and stare straight in front of me so I can’t see my feet. I reach the other side of the street without further ado and walk the short distance to the entrance of the restaurant.

12:59

13:00

I open the door with a racing heart and step into my worst nightmare: a crowded public place.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Meet the Author

Alec Nortan is a French social services worker. Though he learned English at school, he chooses this language to write in. His works are gay-related fictions, varying from young adult, science fiction or fantasy adventure, to romance.


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