Freebies

Greetings Beloveds,

Perhaps, it is the spirit of the upcoming holidays. Whatever the case, it has come to my attention that there will be several books coming available within the next few days for free. Most of them, written by close and, dare I say, incredibly talented colleagues. I must note, that among said freebies will be my own publications, “Syncopation of Ravishing Intensity“.

I will not take up too much of your precious time and provide you with the list of Free Titles and their respective links.

Available from November 28th, 2017 – December 3rd, 2017

At Amazon

 At Amazon

At Amazon

 At Amazon

 At Amazon

 

At Amazon

So, there you have it, ladies and gentlemen. Please enjoy and spread the word.

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Official Book Release

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Welcome!

Today we are celebrating the official release of “Demoness Enchanted”, Book Two of the Fate’s Endeavor Series.

Blurb:

Normalcy, was not a word recognized by Zita. Her entire life was nothing, if not abnormal. Her family, herself, her entire existence, all of it; unnatural. Yet, to her it was nothing but the truth of her actuality. Such, was her life—making it to her normal, as she knew nothing else. Still, it was what made her whom and what she was … a hybrid!

Roman; a witty, silver tongued young man with an average life. He looked forward to finishing High School and thereafter going on a missionary trip to Brazil. He knew that something special awaited him there. What he didn’t know was exactly how special it was.

Fate’s endeavor is Fate’s design, and Fate’s design is unlike any humanity has ever known.

Demoness Enchanted, the story of two completely different beings and the scheme which destiny has preordained for them.

The Fate’s Endeavor Series, surpassing the emotional fabric of angels and demons and delving into the delicate threads which infuse Fate’s tapestry.

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I no longer saw any use in keeping track of time—it was nothing to me anymore.

Useless.

In actuality, everything was nothing to me now.

The void that consumed my heart was not an innate part of me. Melancholy was my mind. Malevolence, my spirit. Anger, my breath.

I pondered on how things changed just like that. How one moment in a being’s life could make all things different.

This was my life now.

Zita, the demon.

The children were the only exception to that rule. They were innocent; did not ask to walk the face of this miserable planet. Like me, they’d been pushed into something that was not of their own choosing. They were my only concern now. Some time back, I’d located an abandoned building and made a home for the children and I in it. No one knew we were there, and no one ever would. It was an old, haggard, battered place, but it had four walls and a roof. That was better than beaten, wet boxes. I’d taken care of making it habitable.

My secret had been well kept. I made sure of it.

I toyed with the wicked at my whim. Took the very last cent that they carried in their pockets, then made sure that the deed was completed by their own hands—a deed that I’d prompted them to commit. Their termination.

Perhaps I was wrong. Yet, the people I ended were even more reprehensible than I.

Immediately after my nightly hunt, I’d return to the makeshift home I’d created for us, and take care of them.

They need a mother. I shall be that mother.

I had heard through the grapevine that there would be a missionary group coming to town sometime soon. Little did I realize that it would be so soon. I couldn’t help but wonder what their true intentions were—these missionaries. If I so much as suspected that they had sneaky plans, I’d take care of them myself.

Early morning peeked through the horizon—golden hues of sunshine beamed over the hills and plains of Feijo. The sun made her entrance like a Queen over her people, raising her fanciful scepter, bright and majestic. Roosters announced her arrival, like nature’s heralds, crowing loudly for all of the world to hear.

The richness of the sun’s auspicious rays slowly grazed over the extent of Feijo, little by little turning the purple shades of night into the orange blush of morning.

From within the bounds of the gray, peeling walls, and enormous windows of our large room, I heard giant trucks running down uneven roads. People jargoned loudly and scrambled around to get to their morning rituals. Market owners prepared their kiosks, making them ready for the day’s business. All of the commotion could be heard from within the thin shabby walls of our provisional home, for provisional it was. At least until I had gathered together enough money to give the children something better.

The smell of freshly baked bread came wafting in through the open windows which helped fully awaken me, and in turn, the remnants of the children that still slept.

I could hear a little boy running and yelling down the road, “They’re here! They’re here!” he called euphorically.

Hmm, so they are here, I thought. This will be interesting.

“Josue, go see what’s going on.” I instructed when I saw Josue getting out of bed.

He immediately jumped out of the bed to wash his face, then quickly ran out the door.

“Children; wake up babies,” I said softly as I shook Leilani tenderly. It was a joy to see their innocent eyes opening every morning. Gratitude displayed in the joyous smiled on their faces as they awoke in an actual bed. Although tattered mattresses on the floor, this was better than a cold, damp, ransacked cardboard boxes lined up in dark alleyways.

Anything is better than that.

“Let’s go see what these missionaries are up to.” I said tenderly.

“Okay.” little Leilani grumbled.

“Alright sweetheart,”

“Do you think they will have food?” she asked.

“I hope so baby,”

“Do you think that they will share?” Leilani was so young, so naive. She lost her parents at the hands of a brutal, vicious police officer. She had no family left to care for her. It was Leilani against the world, much like me. I had to protect her. She was only five!

Furthermore, like I had once been, she too was so innocent, so guiltless. She needed someone to care for her. I had no one and I would not let that happen to her. I had to learn the hard way and I would free Leilani from that miserable grief.

“Yes Ani, if they are as nice as all the other children say they are, I think that they will share,” I replied more so for her benefit than mine. “Alright Ani, let’s get you washed up and dressed.”

“Okay.” She dragged, her sweet voice heavy with sleep.

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Would you like to savor the entire story from the start? Then pick up a FREE Kindle copy of “If Death Should Love Me, Fate’s Endeavor Book One“, TODAY!

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Now, don’t delay. Go and get your copy of “Demoness Enchanted” and “If Death Should Love Me” TODAY!

2 at the price of 1!

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A Group for LGBT Authors and Readers

Hello all and Happy New Year 2016!

It is so wonderful to connect with you all on this new year, and even more wonderful to realize that we have yet another year to make our dreams come true.

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Today, I was browsing Google+ an Facebook for “Groups/Communities” to join that would help provide exposure to my works. What I found troubled me. There are little to no Groups/Communities on Facebook and Google+ for LGBTQIA books and book lovers. The ones that I did find do not give much leeway for authors and readers to connect, or for authors to promote their works.

After browsing and thinking about the situation deeply, and knowing that perhaps I am doing a bit too much, I opted to create a Group for said purpose. And, so I did.

I would like to introduce you to “LGBT Bookworms“, a Facebook group for authors and readers alike.

LGBT Bookworms

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My hope is that this group will acquire a life of its own and people within the community—as well as others that enjoy the literature—might commune, mingle and celebrate our love for the genre.

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I am blogging about this in the hopes that you help me spread the word and get people involved.

Thank you for your time and all the best.

Regards and love,

Adonis Mann

Writing More

Greetings wonderful people.

blowing kissesPS:
I look nothing like that when I’m blowing kisses—I’m a bit more like a fumbling oaf—but the image was irresistible. * giggling *

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Now on to the topic of today’s blog post. 😀

I was asked by a very dear friend of mine the other day, and I quote, “Donny, how do you feel now that you are writing longer stories?” This question led me to write this blog post.

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The question left me pondering, “Am I indeed writing longer stories?” I find that the answer to this question is twofold. In part, I am. In part, I am not.

You see, I consider myself a sort of short story connoisseur. By no means a master or king as said trade, but certainly a specialist. You see, every writer has his/her preference. Many refer to it as “their thing”. Short stories—particularly, LBGT Erotic short stories—are mine. I do also babble in other contemporary fiction genres, as I did for my recent contribution to “Concordant Vibrancy 2: Vitality” which will be hitting book shelves January of next year. As well as my Contemporary Fiction Romance contribution to “Crackles of the Heart: Divergent Ink Book One” this past summer. However, I irreversibly return to what I know and love, LGBT Erotic.

Now …

In recent weeks I’ve been doing quite a bit of writing. Granted, some stories have been longer than others. So, I suppose, that this is the part of the answer which is a yes.

For example:

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With the anthology that I am a part of in conjunction with author and wonderful friend, Synful Desire, called “Simmer: Smoothe & Sweet“, (being released December of this year) I wrote a whopping 6,167 words. This is far above my typical 1,000 – 1,500 word pieces.

And for my upcoming anthology, named after my slogan, “Syncopation Of Ravishing Intensity“, I wrote a longer piece, which is as yet unnamed, that is about 3,000 words in length. Again, an enormous feat for a person that typically writes stories half that size, sometime even smaller.

In this regard, I am indeed writing longer stories, albeit still short in comparison to most writers. Principally, those whom dedicate themselves to novel writing.

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However, the part of the answer that is no, relates more so to another reason.

While my stories have not been much longer, in essence, than what I’d originally been writing, my writing has been more frequent.

That is to say, I’ve been writing more in general.

I’ve had an innumerable amount of stories floating around in my head. All short thus far, but there nonetheless. Each one yearning to be told, therefore, I am breathing life into them. 🙂

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Truth be told, I am highly excited about what the future holds with/for my writing venture. I believe that this was what I was meant to do all along, and it is an indubitably wondrous feeling to achieve your lifelong dream.

I, thank you, dear fan/reader/follower. Your insurmountable support has been invaluable, and I look forward to sharing my art with you.

Lots of love to you all.

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Alan, Fay and Demona by Synful Desire, A Deeper Look

What happens when passion blinds reason? The ardent fire of desire meets the shocking and harsh blows of reality in this Prelude of Prism. The convoluted relationships of three individuals morph into a rainbow of disarray.

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Recently I sat down with Author Synful Desire and asked her a question about her upcoming story, “Alan, Fay & Demona: Preludes of Prism 1“.

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Adonis Mann: As simple a question as this might be, I only ask because I am genuinely intrigued. I’m am fascinated by the name Demona. Was this a name of your creation, or is it a real name? Please tell us a little bit about it, if you do not mind?

Synful Desire: As far as the name Demona, I actually made the name up, although the character she is based from is not. I wanted to pick a name that was ordinary but seemed different due to the emphasis I placed on the divide between the background of Demona and the background of Fay.

I know it’s not the most glamorous answer but it is the most authentic one.
Thanks Adonis!
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Well, there you have it folks. With that being said, stay on the look out for Synful Desire’s upcoming book “Alan, Fay & Demona: Preludes of Prism 1
Drive By Review of “When Summer Lingers” by Queen of Spades

Drive By Review of “When Summer Lingers” by Queen of Spades

*Waving*

Hello!

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It’s that time again. Mr. Adonis Mann brings you a “Drive By Review”. Today, I’ll be looking at “When Summer Lingers” by one Ms. Queen of Spades.

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When Summer Lingers

by

Queen of Spades

Available on Smashwords for FREE

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Before I go into the details and lay out my thoughts on this story, I want to take a moment to address the cover.

I cannot say for sure what it is about this cover that really draws me in. I have got to admit that I’m sort of the type that leans more towards mainstream covers with people on them. Yet this one is far from that and it still captures my attention. Perhaps it is the color scheme: yellow, blue and green. Whatever the case, I really do like this cover. Thumbs up on that.

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Now, about the story.

When Summer Lingers” is the story about Dahna and Carr, two young adults whom consequently met while Dahna was painting her nails on her favorite bench. The story relates that she had gone to her favorite store, to pick out her “seasonal colors” then went back to her favorite place, to paint her nails in her favorite way. She preferred to not be bothered by people whilst she exercised her routine. In come Carr, blocking her sun light and pointing out a faux pas. It was that instant that a beautiful friendship was born.

That’s it. I’ll stop there. I don’t want to ruin the story.

What I loved the most about this story was the symbolism. We love, we fight, we survive, we lose, and we go on. Such are the vicissitudes of life. Change is inevitable, acceptance of that change is of great importance. This does not mean that we forget our past, but utilize that to move into the future.

This is a beautifully narrated short story, presented in a nonchalant and straightforward form. Exquisitely told in a down to earth sort of way that everyone who is anyone can connect to. You don’t have to be a literary scholar, nor do you have to be a middle-schooler, you simply have to be human to understand the depth of this tale.

I am giving this handsomely written story 5 Donny Stars!

Well done Queen of Spade. I am, hence forth, officially a true fan.

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Until Next Time Folks,

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Tired of the Stigma.

YES, I AM GAY!

I am a gay man with self-love and self-respect!

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I felt like that really needed to be said.

While it is true that today’s society has taken long strides in the acceptance of the LGBT community, there is still the underline LGBT prejudice. However, most of the time it’s kept quiet. People don’t dare walk up to a random gay man and yell fag in their face, then trample them like an unwanted animal. Why? Because would be Politically Incorrect. No body wants to say and/or do anything that blemishes their reputation.

Nevertheless, the stigma continues. To me, in the worst manner of all; in silence.

There is nothing more frustrating then entering a room and having everyone stare at you because your mannerisms may be different. Then, while nothing is being said, you can feel the looks you get and many times even think that you can read their minds;

“Wow. He must be gay!”

“Awe! Look at the cute little gay boy…!”

“Oh my gosh, he is flaming!”

“Poor thing… If he doesn’t hurry up and repent, he’s going straight to hell. What a shame.”

Well, let me assure you, I did not ask to be gay, nor did I choose to be. Who would voluntarily want to suffer the indignation that people put the LGBT community through? As a matter of fact, I never even asked to be born. My parents shacked up, didn’t use protection (whether intentional or unintentional) and nine months later … HELLO!

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Why is it my fault that genetically speaking, my DNA made me the way that it did? How is that ever anyone’s fault? Did you ask to be born white, black, brown of otherwise? Did you ask to have blue or green eyes? Was it your choice whether or not you were born with curly or straight hair? NO! Well, just like you, it was not my choice to be born with my sexual preference, therefore I make no apology for it.

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I have a life, therefore I live.

I have a mind, therefore I think.

I have emotions, therefore I feel.

I have a heart, therefore I love.

Does that make me any less human than you? I think not.

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Now, you’re probably thinking that these are the ramblings of an angry gay man. Well, I assure you, they are not. There is a method to my madness.

As you all know, I am a writer.

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Me at age five.

Well, not really, but you get the idea.* giggling *

There has always been a certain solace that I’ve felt whenever I picked up a pen. It was a comfort that I couldn’t get elsewhere. As far back as I can remember, writing came naturally to me and it felt right. Throughout time my style has changed, matured, as has the subject matter. What ultimately came from the growth of my passion for writing was a love for Contemporary LGBT Erotica.

Here is the battle …

The fight is in the belief that all LGBT Erotica is dry, unemotional and full of mindless sex. As though, we, the LGBT Community, aren’t capable of emotion.

When I am sad, I cry.

When I am happy, I smile.

When I am angry, I fight.

These emotions make me just as human as you. The blood that courses through my veins is the same color as yours. I am not a mannequin of a man that has no concept of sentimental awareness.

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Let me tell you, I’ve been fighting against that odium all of my life. Now, I am fighting against this stereotype that as a LGBT Writer, I am incapable of loving, wanting and feeling. I want people to understand that LGBT Erotica CAN be passionate and demonstrate an emotional connection with people that far surpasses lust.

Who the hell, in the first place, decided that they wanted to write an LGBT Erotica story, about getting your nut and nothing else? That infuriates me!

I’ll tell you why.

From the time I was old enough to understand sex and things therein, and discovered Erotica, I became aware that Erotica was meant to bridge the sensual, emotional and sexual aspects that regular pornography could not provide. It was meant to give the reader a more inside look into the heart, as opposed to looking solely at the carnal facet of love making.

I admit to having read Straight Erotica first, as it was the first type of Erotica that I discovered, and I could not find LGBT Erotica. Then, when I finally did, it was all about the sex and not about the connection. That frustrated the heck out of me.

Then came my mission … my mission to create what I could not find. I long time ago I heard an idiom, it said “If you can’t find it, make it.” That has become my newest passion, my fervent endeavor, to create LGBT Erotica that also demonstrates human emotion. And so, I did.

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Please, enjoy an Excerpt of “… and we“, my Short Story contribution of “Concordant Vibrancy: Unity, An All Authors Anthology“.

Why I like both men and women?
Why does one like anything—chocolate, coffee, a horse race? Because they do. It brings them pleasure. They enjoy it. There is no real basis for why one likes what one likes, it merely is. I was attracted to both sexes because I was, and for no other reason. It gratified me to feel the softness of a woman and the firmness of a man. It felt good.
Double the pleasure, double the fun.
Before, I get any further with this discussion, let me take a moment to introduce myself. My name is Ronin Lewis. I was born in Chesapeake Bay, Virginia and was raised everywhere. I was an army brat. We moved around a lot. It wasn’t something that bothered me. I actually liked it. I got to see the world at an early age. Things were good. I am a milkshake of combined races—ranging from Native American, to Black, to Caucasian, and who knows what else.
With my curly black hair, bronzed skin and light brown eyes, most people assume I’m Hispanic; although I believe that is something I am not. However, I’m happy to oblige the Ronin pursuer with an ‘Hola. Como estas?’ then a wink and a smirk,from time to time. Anything in good fun.
Am I a playboy, a player, a philanderer? Who knows; I probably am. What does it matter anyway? As long as all parties involved get their cookies, my charismatic, heavy hitting ways should have little to no effect on anyone.
Let me get something straight. For the record, I am no pervert. Had I been a deviant I’d be fondling and groping any woman and man I crossed in the street. Yes, it is true that I may be a wolf of sorts, but I am by no means a degenerate.
Who in their right mind does not enjoy sex anyway? Apart from nuns and monks, of course. In my younger years I spent some time stripping—for both fun and money. Later on in life, I utilized some of that money to make some lucrative investments, which leads me to the present.
Today I live happily, enjoying some money and good company. As a kid I battled with confusion. Did I like girls or boys? Well, it seemed like one year I had a crush on a girl and the very next it was a boy. For some time I mingled with the straight crowd, and for yet another span of time I hung with the “gay and proud” crowd. When I was younger you were either straight or gay. No one understood (or openly acknowledged) bisexuality.
Of course, if you were gay, the majority was against you. However, what friends you did have were true and stood by your side. Yet, if you were “confused” then you fit nowhere.
I still snicker with contempt at that term. Confused…! It was patronizing, really.

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