New Release A Vampire’s Redemption

Title: A Vampire’s Redemption

Series: The Inquisition Trilogy, Book Two

Author: Casey Wolfe

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: June 3, 2019

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 108700

Genre: Paranormal, LGBT, vampires, werewolves, were-creatures, mages, witches, elves, centaurs, alternate universe, dark, magic, fluff, low angst, hurt/comfort, PTSD, humor, friendship, political, fantasy, paranormal, romance, gay, pansexual, mates, mating, mate bonds

Add to Goodreads


Marcus was likely dead, killed by the Inquisition, or so it was believed. Then the vampire was found, broken beyond words, in an isolated prison fortress. Marcus had never expected to see daylight again, let alone be rescued by his mate. Now he worries he’ll drag Caleb into his darkness.

Caleb was the one who pulled Marcus out of his prison cell, and he’s determined to drag him from the nightmares of his mind as well. After all, that’s what mates are for, and Caleb had lost hope at finding his. And if he can help destroy the entire Inquisition? Well, all the better.

Dealing with Marcus’s physical and mental healing from his trauma is difficult enough, but Inquisition holdouts are causing chaos everywhere, and sinister plots are rampant. Marcus and Caleb have no choice but to fight back. It’s a good thing they are not alone.


A Vampire’s Redemption
Casey Wolfe © 2019
All Rights Reserved

Caleb ushered the prisoners from their holding cells, encouraging them to escape. A naiad, shivering and pale, was carried by a collared were-creature. A dwarf asked for some assistance getting an injured elf to her feet, a pair of fellow prisoners stopping to lend aid in getting her out.

He continued to move as quickly as possible until he reached solitary confinement at the back of the block.

Only one cell was occupied. The prisoner was curled on his side, groaning as he attempted to right himself. “Hold on,” Caleb said. “Lemme help.”

He was met with a hiss and flash of fangs. Vampire. Caleb shied back to the threshold of the cell, dropping into a crouch. “Whoa, whoa, I’m not gonna hurt ya, man. We’re here to free you guys.”

The vampire blinked a few times before his hackles lowered. His body sagged, the rest of his energy going with it.

Caleb scented the air—filth, sweat, excrement; all of which was expected. Then he smelled blood and infected flesh. As the vampire used all his remaining strength to push himself into a seated position with only one arm, the source was made obvious. “They took your arm?” Caleb snarled. “Fucking bastards.”

Letting out a humorless laugh, the vampire looked at him. “They wanted to know if it would grow back.”

There was no helping Caleb’s growl. Were-creatures and vampires had accelerated healing, a trait of their particular races. But even they had their limits. Growing a new limb? These people were madder than he originally thought.

“Gonna get you out of here,” Caleb said, tempering his anger with an awareness of the situation he was in. He inched inside the cell, moving slowly so he didn’t startle the wounded vampire again. “It’ll be alright now.” He soothed him with the voice he used on Kyle and the other pups when they got scared or needed help with a shift. “You’ll be okay. I promise.”

“I’m so tired,” he murmured, eyes closing as his head fell back against the cell wall. “Don’t even think I can walk out of here.”

“I’ll help you. We’ll do it together, okay?”

“I can’t.” The vampire’s face scrunched in pain, the words forced out.

“We can.” Caleb offered his hand, even though the vampire’s eyes were still closed. “Come on. I’ll carry you if I have to.”

The vampire looked at him, lips curled in mirth. “Yeah? Just you there, small fry?”

Geez, he can manage to joke at a time like this? Caleb thought, though he was amused all the same. This one was most likely a sassy bastard when he was in top form. Something about that thought made Caleb want to see him at his best.

“Up you go,” Caleb encouraged, wiggling his fingers. When the vampire took hold, Caleb hauled him up in one quick motion before the vampire could try to lift himself.

“Shit,” he cursed, balance lost in the process, and falling against Caleb.

Catching him easily enough, Caleb prepared to make a smart comment when he smelled it. Closer now, the scent of honeysuckle wafted under his nose, and every place their skin touched was tingling with static. It couldn’t really be…

“Mate.” The word was said with such awe and reverence, Caleb’s chest clenched.

Caleb looked up to meet eyes the color of sea glass. He licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry. “Yeah,” Caleb agreed. “Mates.” He pulled the vampire closer, both supporting him and fulfilling his wolf’s selfish need to keep him near. “I’ll get you out of here.” If the statement was filled with more conviction than before, then nobody could blame him.


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

Meet the Author

“Everyone deserves a Happily Ever After.”

History nerd, film buff, avid gamer, and full-time geek; all of these things describe Casey Wolfe. They prefer being lost in the world of fiction—wandering through fantasy realms, traveling the outer reaches of space, or delving into historical time periods. Casey is non-binary and ace, living with depression, anxiety, and PTSD, all of which informs their writing in various ways. Happily married, Casey and their partner live in the middle-of-nowhere, Ohio with their furry, four-legged children.

Website | Facebook | Tumblr


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

New Release – The Scarecrow by Mia Kerick

Title: The Scarecrow & George C

Author: Mia Kerick

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: June 3, 2019

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Female

Length: 65700

Genre: Contemporary New Adult, LGBT, contemporary, new adult, hurt/comfort, family drama

Add to Goodreads


High school senior Van Liss is barely human. He thinks of himself as a scarecrow—ragged and unnerving, stuck and destined to spend his life cold and alone. If he ever had feelings, they were stomped out long ago by his selfish mother and her lecherous boyfriend. All he’s been left with is bitter contempt, to which he clings.

With a rough exterior long used to keep the world at bay, Van spooks George Curaco, the handsome new fry cook at the diner where he works. But George C senses there is more to the untouchable Van and refuses to stop staring, fascinated by his eccentricity. When Van learns that George C is even more cold, alone, and frightened than himself, Van welcomes him to his empty home. And ends up finding his heart.

Their road to trust is rocky and, at times, even dangerous. And looming evil threatens to keep them apart forever.

Fair warning: You may want to strap in. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.


The Scarecrow & George C
Mia Kerick © 2019
All Rights Reserved

Do us both a favor: check this out before you read
If you’re looking to read a story about a sassy teenage gay boy who refuses to behave until he meets Mr. Wonderful in Senior Honors Physics, and then is dazzled into improved conduct and future monogamy, I highly doubt this is the book for you. Believe me when I say you should close the book right now—drop it into a recycling bin if you’re all about keeping the earth green—and walk away. To this point, my life hasn’t run according to a predictable romantic formula. I don’t see a reason for this status to change.

Maybe you think you’re into something darker, so an unconventional story will suit your offbeat mood. News flash, reader: loners spend significant time in bookstores. I’m aware of the kind of books that consider themselves dark, at least in a carnal sense, and many are categorized as “New Adult,” just like this one. Between lewd front and back covers featuring tits, tats, and torsos, a threadbare plot is woven into a heavy fabric of inspired sex. You’re not likely to find that shit in here, either—but don’t I wish?

By now, you’ve probably noticed I possess a flair for the dramatic. Well, I look at it like this: creating drama staves off boredom. Not that I need to justify myself. But if you’re still with me, you’ve earned a shred of my respect. So on second thought, maybe you should keep reading.

Stick along for the ride if it pops your cork…

I towel myself off after my second, extremely necessary, shower of the morning. Mom’s cast-off pale pink towel is history thanks to unsightly smudges of black dye. Whatever. I did what I had to do, even if it was messy.

This morning, you see, I woke up and dyed my roots black. The urge to do it had been gathering steam for a few days—ever since the new kid started working at the diner. I picked up the dye on a rather compelling whim at the 24-hour pharmacy on the corner of Depot and Wilder Streets after work on Tuesday night. The rest is well-planned history.

I had to refer to a YouTube video so my roots would appear intentional, rather than a result of lazy grooming. And you may think I seem like a hot mess, but my crime against hair color has been done by careful design. Don’t delude yourself—I wasn’t going for the chic ombré look. Believe me, there’s nothing trendy about me. I want bold black roots with zero transition to the rest of my white-blond hair.

I glance in the mirror over the bathroom sink and see the male reverse of Cruella DeVil. And I smile, having achieved the “what the fuck’s up with his hair?” vibe I desire.

I suppose you want to know why I did it. That’s an easy one, and I think you’re going to appreciate my total candor. Drumroll, please: It’s because even if I’m a loner, I’m not heartless. I’m different, and I flaunt it, which is my way of keeping it real with the world. FYI: “Different” is my PC way of letting the public know I’m strange, frightening, and maybe even slightly dangerous. So, it’s better if that kid at the diner, and everybody else, looks away.

And you know what, boys and girls? I can help with that…

Here’s how: I dress like a Halloween scarecrow. Yeah, yeah… You’re wondering what, exactly, constitutes “scarecrow attire”? Go ahead, bookworm, google it. I did—I’m a visual sort of guy. You’ll see images of rigid figures, some stuffed with hay, others skinny as the barn boards they’re made of, clad in an unfortunate variety of secondhand clothing. I wear plaid flannel button-downs and overalls—yes, even to the wedding of a random second cousin last summer—peplum shirts of coarse fabric, and baggy, worn-out jeans, cinched at the waist by knotted burlap belts. Countless patches, Western bandanas, and an antique, oversized top hat finishes my retro cast-off style.

I laugh as I pull on today’s hokey duds. I’m not what you’d call the picture of fashion. In fact, I’d wager guys rarely fantasize about their boyfriends sporting dirty, patched overalls and a hat like Abraham Lincoln’s. But even if I take the hat off, you’ll see my new jet-black roots—hard as hell to appreciate on a bleached blond. Dedicate the hair color upgrade to that guy at work who won’t look away.

He probably considers himself eclectic and likes to think he appreciates life’s more unusual things. Or maybe he’s merely a Halloween maniac who is turned on by scarecrows with hair like straw. Incidentally, when I stripped my hair of color, I hoped it would further shock those around me into keeping their distance, but it seems to attract a certain fry cook.

I have fifteen minutes before I have to leave for the torture chamber most people refer to as high school, so I kneel in front of the coffee maker and brew a pot. I’ll check over my take-home Euro History quiz while it brews. No, I’m not a nerd, but I want better options for the future than I’ve had in the past.

Before you ask, I have my reasons for wanting to appear shocking to the point of repellant. And for the most part, I’ve gotten my wish. Teachers and students at school, coworkers and customers at the diner, not to mention Mom and Jake downstairs, all glance at the floor when I walk by. But this guy fixes his gaze on me. Maybe my unnatural black roots will scare him off, the way a good scarecrow stuck in a vast cornfield scares away so many crows.

I just don’t understand why he can’t see how frightening I am.

You can see it, can’t you?


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

Meet the Author

Mia Kerick is the mother of four exceptional children—one in law school, another at a dance conservatory, a third studying at Mia’s alma mater, Boston College, and her lone son still in high school. She has published more than twenty books of LGBTQ romance when not editing National Honor Society essays, offering opinions on college and law school applications, helping to create dance bios, and reviewing English papers. Her husband of twenty-five years has been told by many that he has the patience of Job, but don’t ask Mia about this, as it is a sensitive subject.

Mia focuses her stories on the emotional growth of troubled young people and their relationships. She has a great affinity for the tortured hero in literature, and as a teen, Mia filled spiral-bound notebooks with tales of tortured heroes and stuffed them under her mattress for safekeeping. She is thankful to NineStar Press for providing her with an alternate place to stash her stories.

Her books have been featured in Kirkus Reviews magazine, and have won Rainbow Awards for Best Transgender Contemporary Romance and Best YA Lesbian Fiction, a Reader Views’ Book by Book Publicity Literary Award, the Jack Eadon Award for Best Book in Contemporary Drama, an Indie Fab Award, and a Royal Dragonfly Award for Cultural Diversity, among other awards.

Mia Kerick is a social liberal and cheers for each and every victory made in the name of human rights. Her only major regret: never having taken typing or computer class in school, destining her to a life consumed with two-fingered pecking and constant prayer to the Gods of Technology. Contact Mia at or visit at to see what is going on in Mia’s world.

Website | Facebook | Twitter


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Sunday Small Talk

Yes, it has been a long time since I’ve done one of these. It’s been a rough couple of months as I watched my university all but implode and 30% of us lose our jobs. I’m lucky not to but my friends weren’t. Then again maybe they’re the lucky ones because I think it’s only a matter of time before the university folds.

Couple this with depression, bad crap happening in the publishing world and floods to my knees, making a writing post has been low on my list.

Writing wise, it’s also been rough. I’ve slipped back into fanfic which normally would be a bad thing BUT it’s keeping me writing without having to think too hard. Until I can get past this depression. Otherwise I might stop entirely which would make me more depressed.

But I am still writing some original fiction. I have almost finished my second Christmas story which is F/F/M set back where I used to live in WI. I just need to get the ending done. And I DID sell my other Christmas story so there’s that. That makes me happy.

And Modified and Sacred with Ninestar Press is making me very happy too. It’s still decently ranked after a couple of months. It could use more reviews but that’s how these things go. The reviews have been good. Most wanted more (typical feeling with novellas) and one thinks I could have a series here. That could be fun.

The one thing I have been doing in this blog (besides Rainbow Snippets for my weekly self confidence boost) is been promoting other books. I’ve been trying to keep it a little more on brand since I write mostly SF/UF/Paranormal. Oh sure I’ll be happy to promo contemporary stuff from people I know. I truly do believe we’re here to help each other and this is one easy way for me to do that.

So bear with me. I’m down but I’m not out.

Rainbow Snippets

Packing to go back with family and friends in Pittsburgh for the Summer and cleaning up after a flood yesterday washed mud about six inches high on everything and nearly washed my SUV into the creek. (No damage just a big mess)

Picking up with These Haunted Hills Brendan has just driven forty miles to a wine bar in Athens, Ohio to meet Josh and his steampunk group.

He took in Josh’s leather vest and the top hat that looked like it was leather perched on his head. Josh stood when he saw Brendan. His black and white striped pants, watch chain and boots really completed the outfit. Damn, he was cute. Brendan realized this was really why he’d drive so far. He wanted to see Josh. He’d have to contemplate his motives. Part of him thought so what if it was. He was still a living being. It was normal to find someone attractive and Josh was just cute as hell.

DSCN3255 Me taking my 5’9″ self out for a walk in the flood waters (which yes are past my knees)

If you’d like to play along, Rainbow Snippets is a Facebook community where we post up 6 sentences of one of our LGBT stories every Saturday. It’s been fun and you can find it here. Be sure to check out all the offers! It’s been a great supportive group!

Rainbow Snippets

Well the worst has happened. They basically gutted my university into a community college (except retaining like 6 4 year degrees) and let go the entire math and science department except for those needed to teach nursing (i.e. me) So needless to say I was distracted but I did just catch up on reading everyone’s snippets from last week.

I’m going back to my paranormal WIP These Haunted Hills set here where I live (which ironically could end up published after I no longer do because I don’t believe these cuts will save the school like the board does so I’m looking for a new job). Since it’s been weeks let me refresh your memory. Brendan is a famous author who has lost his son to cancer and is in the Hocking Hills researching for his next novel, this time about ghost hunters. Josh is a geeky biology professor who hunts ghosts on the side.

Brendan’s butt felt numb. How did the people do here do this all the time? They seemed to be forty minutes or more from everything. He found the wine bar without a problem. It was a nice looking space, long with lots of brick and glass. Two seater tables lined the outside wall. He thought it was adorably overprotective of Josh to worry about the fact he couldn’t promise someone wouldn’t recognize Brendan and make a big deal about it. It was part of the whole you’re sort of famous thing.

He almost said no to coming because he should be writing but he wanted to get that local flavor. He wouldn’t have thought to add in all the driving his characters would have to do if he set them out in a place like this. It had to get annoying after a while or maybe it faded into the background of life, just something that was taken for granted.

(True fact, I live like 40 miles from every damn thing)

If you’d like to play along, Rainbow Snippets is a Facebook community where we post up 6 sentences of one of our LGBT stories every Saturday. It’s been fun and you can find it here. Be sure to check out all the offers! It’s been a great supportive group!

New Release – The Life Siphon!

Title: The Life Siphon

Series: The Life Siphon, Book One

Author: Kathryn Sommerlot

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: May 20, 2019

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: No Romance

Length: 85500

Genre: Fantasy, LGBT, fantasy, royalty, magic users, mage battles, action/adventure, family drama, kidnapping, HFN

Add to Goodreads


A magical energy drain is siphoning life from the land and leaving a twisted, decaying wasteland in its wake.

Safely isolated in his forest home, Tatsu wants nothing to do with the drain or the other citizens in the kingdom of Chayd. The only people he cares about are his childhood friend and her strangely prophetic sister, but there’s no avoiding the threat once Tatsu is arrested and taken to the capital. The Queen of Chayd offers Tatsu his freedom—but only in exchange for sneaking into the neighboring kingdom of Runon and stealing whatever is powering the siphon.

Ravenous trees and corrupted predators lie between Tatsu’s team and their prize, but the drain’s destruction is nothing compared to Runon’s high mages, determined to protect their weapon. As the truth of the siphon’s power reveals itself, Tatsu faces an impossible question: how much is he willing to sacrifice to save one man’s life?

What if that one man could destroy everything?


The Life Siphon
Kathryn Sommerlot © 2019
All Rights Reserved

The knock on the door came just as he finished refilling his quiver. Tatsu froze, blood running cold. He put his hand on the leather pack for stability before he was able to oust the lump in his throat. His house was too remote for anyone to simply stumble across it, so whoever it was had meant to arrive. As the air in the small house hung still and heavy, his hand slid to the uneven table with the broken leg he’d never gotten around to fixing, fingers finding the familiar and well-worn hilt of his skinning knife. It was sharp enough to take apart a jack hare. He hoped it was also keen enough to defend himself.

He took a few steps toward the noise, his feet unconsciously finding their way around the long, loose floorboards. He was almost to the door when the knocking came again, impatient. The new round of knocking was paired with a female voice. “Tatsu?”

The anxiety left his body in a rush that felt like the hot sting of Chayd’s summer against his skin, months too early.

“Alesh?” he replied and opened the creaking wooden door. “What are you doing here?”

His first thought was that she had to be injured, sick, or something worse. After all, it had been a long time since she’d last bothered to travel all the way to his hut in the inner woods. But she appeared to be in one piece, her hair worked back into three simple plaits, and she seemed no worse for the wear. Irritation surged through his chest. Knowing she’d been fine but not taking the time to visit made her sudden reappearance cut deeper.

“Please,” she said and, at once, he knew. Alesh wouldn’t journey to his doorstep for any other reason. She needed a favor.

He had half a mind to shut the door right in her face, his insides still untangling themselves from tight knots, but movement flashed behind Alesh’s shoulder. Ral lingered behind her, digging in the constant scourge of weeds growing in front of the house without any care to the dirt embedding itself under her nails. The young woman was laughing at Tatsu’s wildflowers. Her light-brown dress fabric, marking her as enol, or baseborn, was already streaked with smears of mud.

He didn’t close the door, but he didn’t edge it open any further either.

“Hear me out.” Alesh had the good grace to flinch when Tatsu snorted.

“Isn’t that all I’ve ever done?” he asked.

“I need your help.”

Help was not a word that came easily from her, though Tatsu guessed they had wildly different definitions of it. Help to him meant aid and a friendly ear and someone present, offering suggestions and finding solutions. Help was nothing Alesh had ever allowed him to do.

“The last time I tried to help you…” he warned.

She slammed the door so forcefully the ripples shook Tatsu’s arm. “Listen, this isn’t for me, you know. I can’t leave her alone, and I don’t have anyone else.”

Tatsu peered over Alesh’s shoulder again. Ral had gotten a handful of the reedy flowers and pulled them up by the roots, laughing with delight at the white tendrils she’d exposed. When Tatsu’s gaze flickered back to Alesh, her dark eyes were focused on him, narrow and unflinching.

“Please.” The second time sounded much less like a request. She knew she’d already won him over.

Tatsu sighed and called out, “Ral, would you like to come in?”

Ral complied, though she left a trail of dirt behind her as her movement loosened the clumps that clung to her skirt. She might have gotten taller. She was taller than Tatsu, at least. She seemed happy in the house, and Tatsu tried to keep half his attention on her as she moved around, in case she got her hands on the extra snares in the corners. If he had known a houseguest would show up, he might’ve done something with the place.

“It’s only for a few days,” Alesh promised. “This is the safest place I could think of. I mean, who’s going to come way out here? I have some business I need to attend to—”

“Other people’s possessions, you mean? Or is there a new line of criminal mischief you’ve found that pays better?”

She frowned. “That’s not fair at all, and you know it.”

“Do I?” Tatsu asked. “How could I know it, when the last time you bothered to show up here and tell me you were still alive, the first snow had just fallen?”

Her face pinched tight, mouth hard, before it slackened again in defeat. She sighed, equal parts exasperation and resignation, and ran a hand through the few dark strands of hair hanging wild and wavy around her face, too short to plait back.

“Look, can you…spare me the whole spiel?” Her gaze sank and stayed on a spot near the entrance where the beams of the house were embedded deep in the dirt. “I promise you can lecture me all you want when I come back to pick her up. But for now, I really need to go, and I don’t have time for this.”

Tatsu leaned against the door. Behind him, Ral had discovered the utensils for cooking and was excitedly going through them all, copper spoons and mugs clanging against one another. Alesh stood slumped on his doorstep as if the weight of the world hung on her shoulders, hobbling her. She seemed smaller than the last time he’d seen her, under the same sky and a moon tinged with red. He thought about saying something, something like stay, but the times they’d shared had long since passed between them. There had been too many winters and too many summers. The word died on his tongue.

Instead, he nodded. “Fine. But only for a few days.”

“Thank you.” Alesh’s mouth twisted up into a rueful smile. “She’s learned to count to a hundred—you should ask her to demonstrate for you. She loves showing it off.”

Behind them, as if in agreement, Ral banged Tatsu’s ladle against his big iron pot, the sharp crash echoing.

“I will,” Tatsu replied.

Alesh tucked a bit of unruly hair behind one ear. “It won’t be long.”

“No,” Tatsu agreed. “It never is.”


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

Meet the Author

Kathryn Sommerlot is a coffee addict and craft beer enthusiast with a detailed zombie apocalypse plan. Originally from the cornfields of the American Midwest, she got her master’s degree and moved across the ocean to become a high school teacher in Japan. When she isn’t wrangling teenage brains into critical thinking, she spends her time writing, crocheting, and hiking with her husband. She enjoys LGBTQ fiction, but she is particularly interested in genre fiction that just happens to have LGBTQ protagonists. Find out more on her Website.


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Rainbow Snippets

I did get the reading done, barely thanks to the depression getting even worse after a coworker did his level best to destroy the biology program and of course all the loss of women’s rights this week. Sigh.

But onward or I will mire. I have one last snippet from Modified and Sacred. This comes right after an unknown ship has waylaid Addison and Deveral’s shuttle as they’re on their way to the conference.

“We’re hit, Turing! I’ve lost the engines. We’re spinning in. I’m trying to get the stabilizers back online,” Addison reported, his voice tense as his fingers flew over the controls. If the Turing replied, Deveral didn’t hear it. Nausea engulfed him as the ship spun and sank fast.

“I see a lake ahead,” Addison said. “I’ll try to ditch near there. Brace yourself!”

Deveral did, to no avail. They hit the water hard. The harness half crushed his chest when Deveral slammed forward as far as the safety gear would allow, and then it slammed him back in his seat, bouncing his head off the side of the wall. Everything went black.



Lieutenant Addison Hunt is proud to serve the Confederation even if he still feels like he’s on the outside looking in. Addison was illegally genetically modified as a child, leaving him burdened with a sense of shame. Emotionally isolated from his fellow crewmen and recovering from injuries from his last job, Addison is happy to have light duty transporting an esteemed diplomat to a peace conference.

Deveral is one of the Sacred Kin, possessing a psychic ability that his people consider a spark of the divine. Like all the Sacred Kin, he’s led a sheltered life as a temple priest, but his heightened empathic ability makes him the perfect diplomat. Nervous to leave his home, he’s curious about his new companion, Lieutenant Hunt.

Not everyone wants the diplomatic mission to succeed, and a rebel faction poses a real threat to Addison and Deveral. Finding themselves cast adrift on a “lost” colony, they’ll have to fight to stay alive.

Buy link Here at Ninestar Press

If you’d like to play along, Rainbow Snippets is a Facebook community where we post up 6 sentences of one of our LGBT stories every Saturday. It’s been fun and you can find it here. Be sure to check out all the offers! It’s been a great supportive group!