Monday, September 29, 2014

Top 3 Reasons to Read a Big Fat Romance of Gay Proportions

Hello everyone – there’s a new author in house today and I’m ultra-excited as I enjoy reading gay erotic romance stories. He’s a new-to-me author, and I love checking out new reads – I’ve just downloaded Rick’s book and looking forward to reading it: )


Please welcome Rick Bettencourt with his Top 3 Reasons Why You Should Read a Big Fat Romance of Gay Proportions

Hello, my name is Rick Bettencourt. I’m the author of Tim on Broadway.

I don’t write typical romance novels. Yeah, a lot of us writers like to think we’re unique in one way or another. I’m certainly not here to tell you I’m any more creative—far from it—than those crafty novelists who create worlds into themselves. Actually, I’m pretty ordinary and boring, but my books are not. That’s why I think you’ll love my big fat gay book.


1.    Relating to Flawed Characters Who are Beautiful Nonetheless

I write about people who are realistic…have a flaw here or there…someone you can relate to. We all have issues. For instance, I have many, many faults.

In my book Tim on Broadway, the main character is fat, gay and a virgin—not your typical superhero. And not that any of those traits are “flaws”, it’s just that in the “normal” world of romance novels he’s far from flawless.

Why would you want to read a gay book, especially if you’re not gay? I guess it’s the same reason why would I read a book about werewolves when I’m not one.

Tim is relatable. He’s funny, loving. He’s the type of guy who could be working in the cube next to you at the office. In his own shy way, he’s a romantic. He loves music, theater and Javier. Javier is a bit of a bad boy, the type we love to love but can never get to settle down. Javier has borrowed money from Tim—money that Tim can’t afford to be without, especially since he’s trying to get tickets to see his favorite performer in a one-night only concert.


2.  It’s Free.

I released Tim on Broadway in episodes—five shorter books followed by all of them wrapped into the full season. One of the reasons I did this was to allow new readers to get a taste of both Tim and me before committing to the whole book. You can get the first seventy-two pages for free in episode one. That’s much more than what you’d get just downloading a Kindle sample.

If you like the first episode, you can either go onto the next one or just get the whole novel, which is forty percent cheaper than buying the episodes individually.

For those of you who have to have a real book, it just came out in paperback.

All right, that’s my commercial.


3.  It’s Funny as F#&k!

I like to make people forget about their troubles and fall into a world of fun. But don’t take it from me. Here’s what others are saying about Tim on Broadway:

“It's one of those books you can't put down because following the characters is like checking in on how your friends are doing. You've just gotta know what's gonna happen next!”
“Tim is perfectly imperfect.”
“Delightfully witty and a joy to read.”
“A truly fun, funny read!”
“[Tim is] a clever, funny man, with a na├»ve generosity.”
“Quirky and original… It’s certainly not like any other book I’ve read.”
“While the story is touching, it is also hilarious. I found myself laughing on almost every page.”

So that’s me. That’s my book.

Oh, one last thing. If you like this post, join my newsletter. It’s the best way to stay in touch. I’d be honored to have you.



  
Tim on Broadway: Season One

The Complete First Season
Books 1-5
Rick Bettencourt

Genres: New adult, gay fiction, LGBT, humor, paranormal,
show business, personal growth, M/M Romance

Publisher: Bettencourt Concepts
and Beaten Track Publishing

ISBN: 978 1 909192 86 7
ASIN: B00M4N1L9K

Number of pages: 268
Word Count: 75,000

Book Description:

Carolyn Sohier, the Greta Garbo of divas, is giving a once in a lifetime concert that Tim can’t afford to attend. Tim—an overweight, twenty-something virgin—regrets lending the hunky bag boy at the grocery store money that could have bought him a ticket. Tim needs to call in his debts, but money isn’t the only thing holding him back.

The first time Tim met Javier, he was blown away by the attention. He didn't often—actually ever—get a guy, let alone a hot one, pay attention to him. The problem, Javier is straight; yet he gives Tim mixed messages. Tim can’t get Javier off his mind, unless he is pursuing his love for theater—or talking with his best friend, Julia, about the “unattainable” crushes they share on some of the guys back home.

With the Carolyn Sohier concert fasting approaching, Tim struggles to get tickets. If he hadn't lent Javier the money to, well, have his way with him in the beer cooler at the store they worked at together, maybe Tim wouldn't have lost his job, and would be able to see Carolyn perform. But Tim’s learned his lesson from all this…or so he thinks.

Available at Amazon   Smashwords   iTunes   Kobo   Scribd   BN  Inktera
The entire first episode (over 70 pages) is available for free at Amazon

Excerpt:
Chapter 1: America’s Got Divas

I put down my doughnut, picked up my iced coffee and took a sip. The extra-extra cream and extra-extra sugar gave me a nice little rush. It wasn’t quite as good as Starbucks’ but being unemployed I had to make the best of my homebrewed pot.

I had my cell phone cradled in the crook of my shoulder, talking to my best friend Julia. “With my Kindle,” I said, “I can read them without people staring at me on the subway.”

“I still can’t believe you like girly romance books,” Julia said. I could hear her slurping her own coffee, probably an iced Double Mocha Grande, being that she was at our old Starbucks in Salem. “You’re the only guy I know who has every Chippendale Publishing book ever released.”

I didn’t really but I didn’t want to quibble over details. “Oh my God,” I said, as a bit of powdered sugar sprayed from my mouth and landed on the blanket I had covered over me. I was getting ready to watch TV. “I almost forgot to tell you.”

She slurped some more of her coffee. “What?”

“Guess who’s doing a comeback concert?” I brushed the sugar dust off the blanket.

“Who, Cher?”

“No,” I said, raising my voice.

“I don’t know. You got me,” she said, and from her muffled speech, I could tell she was eating, probably a slice of carrot cake or a blueberry scone. I know what Julia likes. When she eats desserts, she usually goes for something that has a vegetable in it or some antioxidant fruit, because, of course, they’re healthier than my powdered doughnuts.

I pulled the blanket closer to me. “Carolyn Sohier,” I said. “She’s finally coming out of seclusion and doing a concert.”

“Carolyn, who?” I heard the clinking of the fork against the plate. Carrot cake, I bet.

“Carolyn Sohier― you know, the singer who was in Witches of Salem, that movie we saw the night I slipped on the ice in Danvers? And she was also on Broadway in―”

“Oh, her. That movie was terrible.” I could practically hear her nose wrinkle in disgust. Julia was brutally honest.Well, I liked it,” I said. “She’s an amazing singer.”

“She didn’t even sing in that movie,” she said, with her voice trailing off at the end.

“Well, it wasn’t a musical. But she did sing the theme song. Remember, we saw her on last year’s America’s Got Divas. She was the guest judge.”

“I suppose you’ll want me to go with you,” she said.

I clicked the remote control. “We’ll see. Tickets are expensive. She’s decided to come out of seclusion, out from her Greta Garbo cocoon. It’s a one-night only performance up in Bar Harbor.”

“Maine? Who the fuck gives a comeback performance in Maine? Bar Harbor, nonetheless. What, is she going to come out on stage riding a moose?” She laughed.

My neck was beginning to ache. I rubbed it. “I guess that’s where she lives. It’s a benefit of sorts.”

“So are you going to take the train or bus your ass up here to see her?”

By here Julia was referring to New England, where we had both grown up.

“You wanna go?” I asked.

“You mean will I go?” Julia wasn’t a huge fan of divas like I was, but she knew I had no one else to go with and wouldn’t travel alone.

“C’mon, you like her,” I said. “You even said her rendition of that Barry Manilow song was better than his.”

“Is that the song she sang when she shit herself on stage?”

“Whatever,” I said and tossed the remote onto the seat cushion next to me. Julia was referring, of course, to Carolyn’s fairly well-publicized stage fright. Carolyn had suffered a particularly bad spell several years back and, well, embarrassed herself on live television. It was pretty sad. Julia thought it was funny.

I turned as an ambulance’s siren rang out from the street below, followed by a blare from its horn. I hated the sound of ambulances. I got up to shut the window as it took a turn down Charleston Place.

“Five floors up and it sounds like the cops are right next door,” she said. “I don’t know how you can stand living in New York City.”

“It was an ambulance and I’m in Brooklyn.”

“Whatever.”

I looked at the wall clock, a gift I bought myself. It had logos from nearly all the big Broadway shows over the past two years. “Shit. It’s almost time for America’s Got Divas and I haven’t even set the DVR.”

“Alright, I’ll let you go. Besides, I should check the dryer.” She was at our old Starbucks across from the Laundromat. “Oh and how are you going to come up with the money to buy tickets for this reclusive diva? Didn’t you just get done telling me you’ve already spent this week’s and next week’s unemployment check?”

I didn’t want to get into it. “Javier,” I said. “This week, he’s finally going to pay me the money he owes me.”

“Oh, God. Not Javier.” I knew her well enough to know that she was probably rolling her eyes as she said it.

“Shut up,” I said, with no real force behind it. Julia could be such a bitch. She was always reminding me of the things I did wrong, which were plenty, and the things I should be doing to better myself, which, quite honestly, were spilling out of my inbox.

I didn’t want to be reminded of the humiliating experience I had had with Javier, the bagger at the Good Barn, my former place of employment. In short, he got me fired. “He’s getting money from his student loan,” I said. “He is going to pay me back on Wednesday.”

“We’ll see about that. Didn’t I tell you not to give him that money? Didn’t I tell you you’d probably never see it again? But no,” she said, holding onto the vowel a bit longer than necessary. “You still went off and gave it to him after giving him a BJ in the beer cooler behind Produce. He’s going to ruin your wholesome, good-natured reputation.”





 About the Author:

Rick Bettencourt is the author of Tim on Broadway, Painting with Wine and Not Sure Boys. He lives with his husband and their little dog, Bandit, in the Sarasota area of Florida. Rick originally hails from Boston’s North Shore where he learned to speak without pronouncing the letter “r”— and say things like “tonic” when he wanted a Coke, or “bubbler” when getting a drink from the park’s water fountain.

A few years ago, Rick was adopted by a Cairn Terrier named Bandit. Recently, Bandit moved Rick, and his husband of several years, to Florida to escape the New England winters and avoid being engulfed by snow drifts when going about their business.

When Rick is not being walked around the block by Bandit, he might be found working on a story about an underdog character triumphing over adversity. Or you might catch Rick watching The Walking Dead or Once Upon a Time, reading something like Running with Scissors or some personal development book, or writing to a group of folks on his mailing list.

In addition, Rick enjoys theater, art, old postcards, and amusement parks. He also loves to hear from his readers.

You can follow Rick on Twitter @rbettenc or subscribe to his mailing list at www.rickbettencourt.com



Twitter: @rbettenc






Tour giveaway
1 copy of Tim on Broadway: Season One (The Full Season) in any eBook format winner desires

Rafflecopter here (scroll down to find it on page):
http://bewitchingbooktours.blogspot.com/2014/09/now-on-tour-tim-on-broadway-season-one.html 


SPECIAL NOTE: If you like this post, please consider spreading and sharing through your favorite social network J

Monday, September 22, 2014

Story-star (and witch) Roz shares an interview with author Ann Gimpel




Guess who’s back with one of her story-stars (and she’s also a witch) Roz, star of Witch’s Bane…book 2 of Ann’s series The Witch Chronicles. Ann, thanks for being here this week and Roz, may I say, it’s a real pleasure having you visit for the first time: ) I’m excited about your interview together…so I’m going to gracefully bow out and let you have at it with each other *smiles* - Take it away Ann and Roz…


Click Button to follow Ann's Book Tour

Thanks so much for inviting me back to your blog, Kay Dee. It’s always a pleasure to be here.

Today, I thought I’d share a character Interview, with a few twists… This happened while I was writing Witch’s Bane. It was a rainy afternoon, and Roz teleported into my study and dropped into the antique, carved teak desk chair looking like she wanted to kill something—most likely me.

Me:  “Hey there, Roz, nice of you to visit. What’s up?”

Roz: “You used to be a therapist, didn’t you?”

Me:  (Deep breath) “Um, yeah. A psychologist, actually. But I switched my license to inactive once I started writing full time.”

Roz: (Glaring at me) “You got me into this mess, so I figured I’d dump it back in your lap.”

Me:  (Treading cautiously) “And exactly which mess might that be?”

Roz: “As if you didn’t know.” (Eye roll)

Me:  “It would be easier if you just told me. If you want me to finish your story, I need to get back to my keyboard.”

Roz: “Fine. You drive a hard bargain. The mess is Ronin. I do not want another boyfriend. They’re nothing but a bunch of assholes and losers.”

Me:  “Um-hum. Men have disappointed you, huh?”

Roz: (Mutters under her breath) “Duh. Let’s state the obvious.”

Me:  “Well, that’s what we therapist types do. You did ask for that part of me at the front end of this.”

Roz: (Shoots an incredulous look my way and chews her lower lip) “I have enough on my hands with the demons. Scratch Ronin out of my book, and let me concentrate on kicking some Irichna ass.”

Me:  “But then the book wouldn’t be a romance, sweetie, and all the fans who read Witch’s Bounty and loved it would be soooo disappointed.”

Roz: “I don’t give a rat’s ass who reads it.” (Tosses hair over her shoulders) “Look. Ronin’s so stunning I have a hard time looking at him, let alone talking to him.”

Me:  (Leaning forward) “Say more about that. What happens when you look at him, or talk with him?”

Roz: “I forget…everything and want to bury myself in his arms.” (Sends reproving glance my way) “Why’d you have to make him so goddamned gorgeous?”

Me:  “He is quite amazing, isn’t he?” (Stifles a lascivious grin)

Roz: “No shit. All that shiny black hair and his hypnotic eyes. Dear goddess, but they remind me of an ancient glacier with all those shades of blue. And don’t get me started on his body. It’s all I can do to hold myself back from stripping him naked and tying him to the bedposts so he can’t get away.”

Me:  “Mmm. Getting a bit warmer in here, wouldn’t you say?” (Fans self) “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’d have to hogtie him. He’s pretty taken with you.”

Roz: (Straightens in her chair) “That would be your fault. You’re not making this any easier.”

Me:  “I’m not trying to make it easy. I’m trying to turn out a paranormal romance novel.” (Shrugs) “What can I say? Characters in my books have a rough go of things.”

Roz: “Stop switching back and forth. Either you’re an author or a therapist.”

Me:  “Yeah, some days I have a hard time with that too. How are you doing?”

Roz: (Narrows her eyes) “Did I hear you say Ronin cared about me?”

Me:  (Knowing smile) “Uh-huh.”

Roz: “How can I trust him?”

Me:  (Glances at wall clock) “Hate to do this to you, but our time’s up for today. Let me get another few chapters written, and if you don’t like how things are going, you can drop by for another chat.”

Roz: “I was just settling into this.”

Me:  “Yes, dear. I always enjoy hashing things out with my characters, but—”

Roz: “Never mind.” (Gets to her feet) “I’m out of here, but I’ll hold you to that invite for another session, er, visit.”

Me:  “Glad to do it.” (Watches as the air bubbles with magic and Roz vanishes. Shakes head. Returns to keyboard thinking I have to make the characters just a shade less real if I want to get anything done.)



  
Witch’s Bane
The Witch Chronicles
Book 2
Ann Gimpel

Publisher: Taliesin
ISBN: 
Release Date: 8/7/14

Genre: Dark Paranormal Romance
Word Count: 65,000

Two stubborn people—a witch and a mage—come together with a fierceness borne of desperation. Can passion trump their intense need for independence? Will they live long enough to find out?

Book Description:

Roz, Jenna, and Colleen are the last of the demon-stalking witches. So far, they’ve escaped disaster, but their luck is running low. When demons strike in the midst of Colleen’s wedding, Roz launches desperate measures because she and her sister witches are Earth’s only hedge against being overrun by Hell’s minions. As she shape-shifts to keep one step ahead of the demons, at least it takes her mind off her other problems. Personal ones. She burned through a couple of marriages with a string of loser men before, after, and in between. Though she wants to be happy for Colleen, the jealousy bug bit deep and hasn’t let go.

In Roz’s secret heart she’s attracted to Ronin, one of the Daoine Sidhe. He’s so profanely beautiful she can barely breathe around him, but he’s also headstrong and arrogant. Not good partner material, she tells herself, unless she wants to end up dusting her heart off one more time.

Ronin set his sights on Roz when she was at his home in the U.K. for a strategy meeting and he can’t get her out of his mind. Unfortunately, she’s so prickly getting close to her requires scheming. He casts an enchantment to lure her at Colleen’s wedding, but she senses the spell and rebuffs him.

Roz is used to calling the shots. So is Ronin. Sparks fly. Tempers run hot, right along with an attraction too strong to be denied. Roz and Ronin come together with a fierceness borne of desperation, but demons are determined to rid themselves of the witches for good, no matter what it takes.




 About the Author:

Ann Gimpel is a mountaineer at heart. Recently retired from a long career as a psychologist, she remembers many hours at her desk where her body may have been stuck inside four walls, but her soul was planning yet one more trip to the backcountry. Around the turn of the last century (that would be 2000, not 1900!), she managed to finagle moving to the Eastern Sierra, a mecca for those in love with the mountains.

It was during long backcountry treks that Ann’s writing evolved. Unlike some who see the backcountry as an excuse to drag friends and relatives along, Ann prefers solitude. Stories always ran around in her head on those journeys, sometimes as a hedge against abject terror when challenging conditions made her fear for her life, sometimes for company. Eventually, she returned from a trip and sat down at the computer. Three months later, a five hundred page novel emerged. Oh, it wasn’t very good, but it was a beginning. And, she learned a lot between writing that novel and its sequel.

Around that time, a friend of hers suggested she try her hand at short stories. It didn’t take long before that first story found its way into print and they’ve been accepted pretty regularly since then. One of Ann’s passions has always been ecology, so her tales often have a green twist.

In addition to writing, Ann enjoys wilderness photography. She lugs pounds of camera equipment in her backpack to distant locales every year. A standing joke is that over ten percent of her pack weight is camera gear which means someone else has to carry the food! That someone is her husband. They’ve shared a life together for a very long time. Children, grandchildren and three wolf hybrids round out their family.





@AnnGimpel




SPECIAL NOTE: 
If you like this post, please consider spreading and sharing through your favorite social network J



Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...