Friday, March 24, 2017

Three fantasy MM romances & a contest #MMRomance #Fantasy #Contest

Hurri Cosmo is here to introduce three MM fantasy romances.

There's also a great contest.

Read on for details...

M/M Romance 



Prince Joron of Blade Rain was kissed by a man he had no idea was King Aric of Claymoor Doom. Of course King Aric had no idea the one he kissed was even a man since Joron was dressed as a woman. Disguised to escape the newly crowned king of Blade Rain who just happens to be Joron's brother, Joron is swept off his feet by Aric when he is rescued by him from an assault. Aric is also swept off his feet by the beauty of the "woman" and that one amazing kiss. Aric, who is led to believe the beautiful woman he kissed is actually the princess, immediately goes to the king of Blade Rain and offers for the princess’s hand in marriage and his offer is accepted. Unfortunately, King Aric is now betrothed to Liarta, Joron’s sister. But an emergency has King Aric racing home without finding out the mistake he has made and now Joron must ride to Claymoor Doom to renegotiate the offer since Liarta is in love with someone else and does not want to marry King Aric.

Imagine Aric’s surprise when he discovers the Prince is the one he thought was the Princess! So Aric does the only thing he can think of. He will release Liarta from her obligation of marriage, but only if Joron takes her place... in the marriage bed.


That was when Aric saw the young servant from the previous day, and his heart leaped. He wondered yet again what it was that affected him so. He watched the young man as he chatted freely and easily with people, his smile effortless and light. Aric started to move toward him, his gaze riveted to him, the lust building as he looked up and down his small, slim frame. He was perfect in every way. If he could reach him, talk to him, offer him a position in his own kingdom, it might prove to be quite easy to take him away. But Aric quickly realized he was not going to be able to move as people pressed in on him.

His position as the King of Claymoor Doom, the largest, richest kingdom in the land, made him nearly a celebrity, and there were far too many people of all ranks who would think befriending him was their one and only goal that evening. It was not his intent, since this should be King Diagus Amar’s big night and most attention, if not all, should be lavished on him. It was the reason he refused to attend the crowning ceremony, feigning a headache and his need to lie down for a few hours. But he knew he would not be able to avoid the reception. It would be considered rude and that was the last thing he needed to portray to this volitile, unstable kingdom.

In fact, he needed to offer not only his condolences and congratulations to the new king, but also offer his support publicly. Aric grinned as he thought how incredibly perfect the timing had been for the new king. Who better to have at your crowning reception than the “high” king from Claymoor Doom? In offering his support, it would quiet any disruption the old king’s death might create. Though Aric did not mind making that claim—it certainly was important to him the kingdom who controlled the pass appear to have powerful friends—he was still perplexed. He had never liked the family Amar. He only knew them to be greedy and petty in their alliances. He kept a close watch on them, if only to make sure no one else decided to overthrow the kingdom of Blade Rain.

Standing here now, watching the young man interact with the people, the king once again felt the heat affect him in ways he had not experienced in a very long while, if ever. He wondered why a servant would be dressed the way the young man was dressed—more regally than a servant should be. What rank did he hold? It looked like it was high, although the man he had sent after him yesterday reported he was unable to find out. Aric’s guard only saw that he met up with an older man at the entrance to the pass. He was at least able to overhear the conversation between the two. He witnessed the passing over of medicine and other items—presumably for the older man’s family. Then they both stayed the night and left early the next morning, the older man entering the pass and the servant turning toward Castle Blade Rain. The man who was waiting for him at the entrance didn’t know his name either, although he asked for it several times. It seemed the young man wanted to keep his identity secret. It made sense. Even a high-ranking servant could get his head lopped off if he was found to be stealing from the king. It was the only explanation.

King Aric, of course, knew how selfish King Oxys was. It warmed his heart to know the servants were willing to risk their lives for the sake of others, although he still didn’t like it—especially since he had begun to take serious interest in this young man who was definitely putting himself in grave danger. He would have to make sure he was protected. Finding out who he was and how he belonged to this castle was the first thing to do to make that happen.

King Aric motioned quickly for TaParn, his assistant, who had accompanied him to the reception, to follow the man, since Aric would not be able to exit the reception yet, and he needed to make sure he didn’t pass up this opportunity to learn more. However, the young servant was obviously in a hurry and quickly slipped out as Aric’s assistant fought to get to the door he left through. The king chuckled. The young servant was fast on his feet, too. TaParn was going to be hard-pressed to catch up to him and most likely at this point would not. This man intrigued him more and more. He was going to find it hard not to just tear the castle apart if he couldn’t obtain more information soon.


Things are going well for King Aric. He had Joron safely hidden away. Diagus, although a continuing threat to Joron, had left his castle empty handed, and the Cetin Gang was headed for his dungeons. He should be thrilled but – something was not right. He could feel it. 

Sure enough, when he returns to Claymoor castle, he finds Joron has been kidnapped and he must ride immediately to rescue him. And knowing the culprit, it was not going to be an easy task. However, Aric has a trump card; a letter from a dead king. Seemingly nonsensical at first, it now points a finger directly at a murderer and Aric is convinced Joron is next. Somehow he has to find him and get Joron back into his protective arms before it’s too late. 

Unfortunately, there are other huge pitfalls just waiting in the shadows. It turns out Joron is the true king of Blade Rain and Aric's long dead wife miraculously returns to claim Aric as her own. Between all the lies, murders, and life altering revelations, is there hope for these two at all? 


Diagus waited until the door shut to the chamber room before he turned on his men. “What is so important you would dare to interrupt me? Not only that, but you walk right into my bedroom?”

“S-sire, I’m…sorry, but…your mother…the queen…queen mother…” It was clear the man had no idea any longer how to address his mother.

“Spit it out. What does my mother want?” Diagus cared not one bit about his mother or any honorific possibly proceeding or taking the place of her name. He had a difficult enough time simply referring to her as his mother.

“She needs to see you immediately. She…she said if we didn’t retrieve you right now…”

Diagus took the two steps necessary to be directly in front of the man who stood first in the door. He reached out and took the man by his throat.

Diagus went nose to nose with the man and, in a very low, controlled voice, asked, “Who is the king?”

The man opened his mouth, but only strangled sounds came out, little choked gags, as Diagus watched his face turn beet red. When his eyes started to roll back in his head, Diagus finally released him, pushing him into his comrades. The guard took a ragged gasp of precious air as the other two held him up.

The one on the left looked up to Diagus. “You are, Your Majesty. You are the king.”

“Then why would you let my mother dictate what you should do? She is nothing in this castle any longer. Nothing.” But he would comply. Something had to be up for her to send three of his own men to retrieve him. Of course, she had no clue at all what he had been doing, being up far more hours than he had been able to sleep, with barely any food, and had only now been able to obtain a small bit of rest.

But he did feel wonderful. Awesome, in fact. There was only one thing that could possibly make him feel better. He shoved the men out of the room, telling them to inform his mother he would grace her with his presence when he was good and ready, then shut the door. He turned toward the room he had watched Joron’s amazing body float into and ached with the thought of what he still wanted to do with him.

Diagus sighed as he basked in his brilliance in being able to pull Joron out of Claymoor Doom Castle. It had been a little too easy which was why he ran like the thief he had become. But the big man had not given chase. He truly had left which only made it clear how important the capture of the Cetin Gang had been to him. Maybe Diagus had done a good deed for once in helping to make that happen.

It didn’t matter. Joron was his now, if for no other reason other than the risk he had endured. Yes, he would do that and that—and that. Oh yes, and that. Mmmmm… He was getting hard, and as much as he wanted to take his sweet brother before he left the room, he would wait—again. Tamusi would be coming, but Joron would not be found. All Diagus needed was time. He would woo the shit out of Joron, charm and romance him until he was begging Diagus to take him.


King Diagus of Blade Rain is in a bind. He is duty bound to produce a royal heir and the only way he knows that can happen is if he beds a woman. Definitely not his idea of Happily Ever After. In fact, far from it. Except instead of walking down the aisle with the princess he has arranged to marry, Diagus is off in the wilds of Claymoor Doom. But there’s a good reason. Rumor had it there was someone near Gray Valley with Diagus’s stark blue eyes. A possible relative and therefore an heir? Was there a chance he might not have to marry a woman, after all? Regrettably, Diagus finds no one matching the rumor’s description. What he does find is a heinous, black magic plot for murder and Diagus is the next on the list.

Tama’s pregnant sister claimed to be carrying the child of a king. Not just any king. The mighty king of Blade Rain. She was determined to get out of the very poor house of Hilman and into the lap of luxury. But fate had its own agenda. Sadly, Tama must raise his nephew all by himself after his sister unexpectedly dies in childbirth. It’s not a problem, though. He loves Aydin as he loved his sister – with all his heart.

However, Tama’s lazy and abusive father, Beourn, is angry and extremely disappointed. Being the grandfather of a crown prince, he was looking forward to moving to the castle and living a life of extravagance. With his daughter’s death, that was no longer possible. So, he does the unthinkable. He kidnaps Aydin with the intent of selling him to the rich and powerful king. Tama is stunned he would do such a thing and chases after Beourn to rescue Aydin.

But he doesn’t get far before he is confronted with a beautiful man being viciously attacked. Of course Tama has to help. If he doesn’t the man will surely die. Except Tama quickly learns the man is far more than just someone in trouble. In fact, the man is a king and will change Tama’s life. Forever.


The sun had not yet set thankfully, but because of the high walls and the twists and turns, there were dark spots, just as Stomund had predicted. Tama guessed some of these areas were dark even under full daylight. He stayed very aware of them, and up until a few minutes ago, they were simply deep shadows. He could still see the rock walls within them. The moment he noticed those walls seemed to have been swallowed up was when he imagined animal eyes staring out at him.

“Trick of the light,” he muttered to himself.

But when he saw another pair, this time actually moving alongside him, following in the shadow, he began to wonder what this curse of Ice Dragon truly was.

Another man hurried by him, also going in the opposite direction. Why were they in such a hurry? Tama calculated how far he had already come, and it had been a good hour. Probably not much in the way of distance because of the nature of the trail, but it had been an hour.

Conceivably, he was halfway through. The way had been fairly easy except for a few areas where it was uneven and hard to maintain firm footing. If it wasn’t any harder of a path from here on out, there was no problem getting to the other side before full-on dark.

But the harried look of his fellow travelers had him thinking otherwise.

Tama kicked the nervous horse into a faster gait.

The way was uneventful for a time, Tama allowing the horse to set the pace. It seemed eerie to be all alone, the horse’s hoofbeat echoing off the canyon walls. But suddenly the horse reared again and this time Tama did fall off. Efrin, frightened, most likely, by the shifting shadows moving far more than a setting sun was responsible for, made to bolt Tama screamed her name and she obediently stopped, whinnied, and stomped her hooves, clearly not happy about having to stand there while Tama scrambled to his feet and back into the saddle. As they once again took off, in Tama’s periphery, he could have sworn he saw a deep shadow separate itself from the darkness of the wall behind them and move as if to give chase.

Tama didn’t look back. He didn’t even have to kick the horse into a gallop. She broke into that all on her own. Careening around corner after corner, meeting no one, Tama clearly had the path all to himself. That probably wasn’t a good sign.

That was when he saw red glowing eyes directly in front of him as the shadow that held them wavered and grew, a low moan shaking the air. Tama pulled on the reins, forcing Efrin to hug the wall, opposite from the eyes, clattering over bones that also looked all too much like human ones. Tama was impressed that the horse didn’t spook completely, although he was shaking and breathing as if he were the one running. They pressed on around the next corner.

Suddenly the ground gave way, and Efrin stumbled. Somehow, she remained upright, but once again Tama tumbled to the ground, rolling close to the shadowed walls.

For a moment, all was still and silent as Tama regained his wits.

Then something grabbed his legs and pulled.

Screaming, Tama kicked out and was flipped to his back. Still pulling and now moaning, he watched as the shadow loomed over him, as if to envelope him. Tama had been told nothing of these nightmarish shadow people, beings that evidently consumed humans and only left their ghost bones, suddenly appearing only as dusk became night. A stark reminder to late travelers they might have made a grave mistake in thinking there was time to cross.

It was clear the sun’s light somehow kept this evil at bay, stopping it from devouring travelers during the day. However, at night, these shadows looked to live and breathe and obviously consume.

Except Tama did not want to become an evening meal.

Tama kicked violently because if he let the shadow overtake him, he knew he would be the next set of bones a late traveler just might scatter. Somehow, he was able to break loose of whatever it was that had hold of him. It seemed to even scream at the final kick that freed him. But Tama had also witnessed the shadow shrink back when it touched the pocket that held Aydin’s stuffed rabbit. It was then he began to hear the hurried whispers of many voices in the boiling shadows.

Tama quickly crawled to his nervous, stomping, neighing horse that backed away from him even as Tama regained his feet and tried to mount.

“Shhhh. It’s me. Thank you for waiting. And I am sorry for falling again. I’m not used to riding such an amazing steed.” He murmured as he soothed the horse, knowing that his attacker was just now coming for him out of the shadows…or was the shadow this time… He looked back. The darkness grew quickly along the ground, a thing alive, like fingers reaching to grab him again, the whispers growing louder.

I live in Minnesota where I holds tight to the idea that here, where it’s cold a good part of the year, I won’t age as fast. Yep, I avoid the truth as much as I avoid mirrors. But one of the reasons I love writing is reality doesn’t always offer up a “happily ever after” and being able to take control of that is a powerful lure. Being a happy ending junkie, writing just makes them easier to find. Oh, I doesn’t mind “real life” and I do try to at least keep it in mind when I write my stories, but I truly love creating a wonderful couple, knowing they will fall in love and have their HEA. Every - single - time. And, of course, that is exactly the reason I love reading this genre, too. Give me a glass of red wine, some dark chocolate, and my computer, whether I am reading or writing, and I will entertain myself for hours. The fact I actually get paid to do it, is Snickers bars on the frosting on the cake.

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