Today, I’m hosting author Hope Irving and her latest release This or That, a LGBTQ+ contemporary romance. Don’t forget to enter the Rafflecopter giveaway.
Book Title: This or That
Author: Hope Irving
Cover Artist: Simon Franklin
Release Date: June 3, 2021
Genres: Contemporary M/M Romance; Bi Romance
Tropes: Enemies-to-lovers, gay for you, bi-awakening
Themes: Coming out, forgiveness, acceptance (self, family, friends), trust, friendship
Heat Rating: 3 – 3.5 flames
Length: 54 000 words / 200 pages
It is a standalone story. The main characters are secondary characters from another one of my books, Omega Artist (A Cocky Hero Club novel) that takes place later. Omega Artist is a contemporary M/F romance. Both can be read as standalone novels.
Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited
Sometimes, a kiss can knock you out faster than a blow to the head, rendering you unable to think straight.
When drunken Michael Clayton stole a sloppy kiss in a Parisian club, he didn’t know that this would mean war. War, as in being taught a lesson by a shameless cowboy. War, as in being given a taste of his own medicine. War, as in being left dumbfounded and yearning for more. Blame it on the alcohol, right? Damn, Mike hated the guy for muddling his assumed straight orientation and raising unwelcome questions.
When noble Troy Hunter stole a revenge kiss from a despicable hot playboy, he didn’t know that it would be all but forgotten months later. Landing a gig on a Rio-bound cruise ship, the rising DJ is dazed when Mike strikes back with a vengeance during their second encounter, fueling his appetite for dominance. Blame it on the blazing sun, right? Damn, Troy hates the guy for pushing all of his buttons and rubbing salt in old wounds.
It shouldn’t have happened, but now all bets are off. Their feelings quickly escalate into something that they aren’t willing to label. It’s easier this way, until it isn’t… because life’s no cruise and some experiences are life-altering. Between Troy’s painful past and Mike’s unsettling present, their future together might be short-lived, unless their insane chemistry compels them to push their limits and each other. So, which is it? This or that?
Note: This or That was previously part of a charity anthology entitled Anyone But You; it was originally published in early 2021. Since then, I’ve added new content, including a bonus epilogue! Same enemies-to-lovers storyline. Same hot and sweet characters. More focus on certain scenes. Discover or rediscover Mike and Troy’s story… If you’ve read Omega Artist (A Cocky Hero Club novel), this is your chance to see how it all started for two familiar faces that you only briefly met since This or That is a standalone prequel.
It’s impossible to think straight when he’s this close. As annoying as he is, I can’t let him escape my clutches.
Out of reflex, my palms land on his taut chest and shove him out of my personal space. I need oxygen, and his presence isn’t helping. Too bad he doesn’t budge, his daring eyes capturing mine. “You and your…” I stutter and, before he says something inappropriate, quickly add, “big mouth.”
A moan leaves his smart mouth. Seriously? “You know what they say…” He shrugs, an amused expression on his conceited face. “Big mouth, big—”
Narrowing my eyes, I can’t help but want to muzzle his smart mouth and put it to better use. He’s impossible! Who says things like that?
The fucker unsettles me yet again by shooting me a raunchy once-over, licking his sinful lips. “Stop looking at me like that,” I hiss.
What the hell does he want from me? We’re not quite touching. His pupils are so dilated that it’s clear, even in the waning sunlight. “Or what?”
Cutting off any chance of response, his commanding lips mold against mine and his arms circle my waist. I can’t move. Once again, his lips on mine feel so wrong and, at the same time, so right. The friction of his stubble on my clean-shaven skin and the dance of his frenzied tongue with my greedy one send me into overdrive.
Whimpering, I wiggle as if possessed. Going a mile a minute, my brain is at war with my body, which craves more unprecedented sensations. The sloppy Parisian kiss the cowboy stole months ago enticed a hidden desire that has no place in my well-planned life. Worse, our encounter elicited sensations that I’ve been desperate to recreate in a flurry of one-night stands, but nothing’s worked so far.
What’s left of my willpower eventually propels me to stop the mind-boggling tongue action. He needs to accept that I run the show.
The air thickens between us as we huff and puff.
His half-mast eyes are so much darker than they were a minute ago. Should I keep playing with him? “What’d you do that for?”
“You’re not gonna win at this game, cowboy,” I sneer in a rushed voice; an expression of my false bravado. “So you think.” Acutely attuned to my hungry body, one of Hunter’s legs subtly treads closer and he leans into me.
Within seconds, his tongue fills my mouth again. Shuddering under his touch, my resolve crumbles as the asshat deepens the kiss. I stiffen when it evolves from bruising to tender, although our encounter is anything but. My body temperature skyrockets, along with my libido.
Unaware of the all-consuming passion that this kiss provokes in me, he thrusts his hip against mine, banging my back into the wall. His jean-clad semi rubs, grazes, and expands against mine that’s desperate for release. I try to pace myself, but it’s a lost cause.
Overwhelmed by a myriad of toe-curling sensations, my brain shuts down and allows my ravenous body to do the talking; maybe that’s the kind of talking Hunter was referring to earlier!
Talk, my ass! No, no, no, keep my ass out of this!
With that thought in mind, my tempted body is given the green light to act.
Without warning, I close the gap between us and my knuckles trace his sculpted abs. At once, his intoxicating scent numbs my consciousness, and I act on the unthinkable the second his hands snake around my body. And just when I think the fever has reached its peak, the conniving man betrays me, ditching my waist in favor of my hair.
Why can’t you stop? Get a hold of yourself. This is your game, not his…
Then why does the simple act of his fingers running through my short hair increase the unbearable pressure building between my legs? I don’t even give a flying fuck if I come in my pants.
Damn, it’s hot in here!
His urgent mouth devours my expletives and beads of sweat run down the side of my face, but I’m too far gone to swipe them away. I’m too blissed out to care. I’m too needy to break the spell quite yet. My senses are on alert. I want to hate him. I hate to want him. So much…
Hope Irving lives in Paris, France, with her supportive husband and creative teenage daughter. The French indie author spent a couple of years in Texas, where she earned her MBA. With many friends, relatives, and readers in the States, the US has a big place in her heart. Although French is her mother tongue, she chose to write her novels in English because it simply feels right for her characters. Hope’s suspenseful and complex love stories are modern fairytales that feature an unconventional Prince Charming and a headstrong heroine. A natural introvert, she enjoys tormenting her flawed characters with a hint of darkness and sometimes magical elements. Still, her heart melts when love conquers all. Her work has been described as “genre-defying,” “refreshingly unique,” and “an emotional rollercoaster read.”
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