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eBook by B. A. Tortuga & Julia Talbot & Kiernan Kelly
eBook Category: Erotica/Gay-Lesbian Erotica/Romance
eBook Description: New Orleans is beautiful, mysterious, and above all, sexy. Po' Boys explores all the dark alleys and shadowy cemeteries the city has to offer, with all the heat you expect from the Deep South. In Ghost Hunting with the Stars, by Lydia Nyx, Harley Weston is an average guy. So when Jackson Carney, America's favorite gay ghost hunter, comes to film a TV show at the haunted French Quarter hotel Harley works in, Harley isn't impressed. However, Harley does admire Jackson's surprisingly down-to-earth attitude. In Bubba's All Night Diner and Bait Shop, by Kiernan Kelly, you'll find muffuletta and murder at Bubba's, where the danger is as thick as the accents, and the sex is as spicy as the jambalaya. In Sexual Frankenstein, by TC Blue, friends and band mates Darian Jones and Tony Delacourt think they know each other well. When an opportunity for the band falls into their laps, it seems like a dream come true, but between their unacknowledged attraction, and some questionable decisions, they must decide whether to play it safe, or risk it all. Finally, in Link to the Crescent, by Julia Talbot and BA Tortuga, werewolf Landry is sent to New Orleans from his home in the swamp, told he'll meet his destiny. What he meets is vampire, Thierry, who might just be exactly what Landry's looking for. Let the good times roll!
eBook Publisher: Torquere Press/Top Shelf, Published: www.torquerepress.com, 2012
Fictionwise Release Date: March 2012
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6 Reader Ratings:
Ghost Hunting With the Stars
by Lydia Nyx
On a hot July afternoon in the heart of the French Quarter, Harley Weston was in his usual position -- bent over a desk in service to the Man.
The Chateau Royal's reservation book was a mess, as Harley had been off for two days and the part-time desk clerk couldn't organize to save her life. He'd been trying, for a half hour, to rearrange guest names into the proper slots.
Harley scowled as a hand appeared and began incessantly ringing the call bell in front of him. He grabbed the bell and put it out of reach, as if trying to keep something from a child, which he essentially was.
"Knock it off," Harley told Keith Oberman, one of the hotel's bellmen. "I'm trying to fix this mess Lindsay made."
Keith's thick-framed glasses, shaggy side-parted hair, and little wisp of beard made him look like the Crown Prince of the Hipsters. Young female guests loved him. Harley, on the other hand, was an average guy, with respectably-cut brown hair, blue eyes, and usually robed in thrift store finds and whatever he could get on sale at the department stores. He had a baby face, which he hated; he didn't smile too widely because his teeth were crooked; he liked to purchase and refurbish old glass. Pretty average, and maybe a little weird.
"Are you excited?" Keith asked. "About our celebrity guest?"
Harley grunted. "I'm excited I won't have to do much this weekend."
"Come on, man. It's Jackson Carney. How can you not be excited? Everyone within a fifty mile radius is pissing their pants right now."
"I told you six times, I have no idea who he is. I don't watch TV."
"Jackson Carney is America's favorite gay ghost hunter." Keith said this with indignation.
Harley looked up. "Does being gay help him find ghosts?"
"I don't know. I thought all you guys had psychic powers."
"We do." Harley put a fingertip to his temple. "Right now you're thinking... I hope room 1123 tips me, so I can go out and get drunk tonight."
"Contrary to popular belief, not all gay people know each other. Or care when one of us gets famous."
"America loves gay dudes, though. I mean, seems like you put a gay guy on anything these days and boom, ratings go through the roof. And everyone loves those stupid ghost hunting shows. So this guy has the perfect marketing combo."
"You know what I find funny about gay celebrities?" Harley asked. "They always have tons of female fans going nuts over them. Women love gay guys."
"I know. I feel like I need to start going to gay bars with you to pick up chicks."
"Maybe I need to go to straight bars with you to find guys, then."
Keith grabbed one of the luggage carts from beside the desk.
"I think you're too uptight." He pulled the luggage cart toward the elevators. "I think you need to fling some glitter around!"
Harley grunted. "This fairy don't sparkle."
The last of the hotel's regular guests would be out by three o'clock that day and then the hotel would be entirely at the disposal of Jackson Carney's film crew for the weekend. Harley had overnight shifts for the duration, which he hated.
"Just make sure these people get whatever they want," Margaret the manager told him. She was a middle-aged woman, easily excitable, prematurely gray, and in a constant state of hand-wringing. "They're going to be doing most of their filming at night, so be on your toes."
"Isn't it bad enough you let 'psychics' come in here without bringing a whole ghost hunting show in?"
Margaret gave him a dour look. "We're one of the most haunted hotels in the French Quarter, Harley. It's part of our draw."
"Yeah, we're on all the ghost tours, yada yada. But don't you think it's kind of silly?" He handed her the now well-organized reservation book. "I fixed it through the end of the summer."
"Thank you." She took the book. "You don't think this place is haunted? How long have you worked here?"
"Little over a year. And yeah." He shrugged. "I've noticed some weird things here and there. But I don't think it's ghosts. I don't believe in ghosts."
"I've been here fifteen years and I've seen more than a few odd things." She walked toward the operations office. "Don't tell them you don't believe in ghosts!"
"Of course not," Harley murmured. "Wouldn't want America's favorite gay ghost hunter thinking badly of me."