Soy Latte - MM Mystery by Aria Grace


Book 2 of the M/M Real Answers Investigations Series. 

When the handsome customer that comes in for a soy latte every morning stops coming in, Jay isn't too worried. Not until he sees the man's picture on the evening news. Can Doug figure out what happened to Mr. Soy Latte?


“Good morning.” I wiggled my ass against Jay as his hand slid up my chest. He tweaked my nipples before splaying his hand over my chest in a possessive move that made me want to crawl right inside of him.
“It certainly is.” I pulled his hand up to my lips and placed a soft kiss on his palm. “I haven’t slept that well in…years.”
“It’s almost nine. You have time for a quick breakfast before you head to the station?” Jay’s warm breath on my neck caused my entire body to break out in goosebumps.
“I could eat.”
“Good, because I’m starving.” Jay kissed the back of my neck then slipped out of bed. I turned over to watch his bare ass cross the room to his bathroom. Damn, he looked good naked.
Once Jay headed downstairs, I dragged myself out of the comfort of his bed and jumped in the shower. I had considered packing an overnight bag but that seemed too presumptuous so I was stuck wearing wrinkled slacks and a dress shirt to the police department.
Jay had omelets and coffee waiting when I walked into the kitchen fifteen minutes after him. “Smells good in here.”
“I brushed my teeth.”
I reached for the cup of coffee he offered and dropped a fast kiss on Jay’s cheek. “You always smell good. I was talking about the food.”
“Oh, that?” Jay slid an omelet from the pan to a plate and handed it to me. “Well, I hope you like spinach and feta.”
“Love it.” And that’s not the only thing in this room I’m starting to love. “But I need to head out soon.”
Jay fixed a plate for himself then walked with me to the breakfast bar. “This won’t take long.”
I put a forkful in my mouth and closed my eyes at how good it was. “Mmm, this is delicious.”
When Jay didn’t respond, I looked over to see what had his attention.  His eyes were glued to the TV on the other side of the kitchen. The volume was muted but his jaw dropped as a photo flashed on the screen.
“Holy shit,” he whispered as he ran for the remote. “That’s Soy Latte.”
It took me a second to understand what he meant. But when he hit the rewind button and turned up the volume, I remembered his dreamy customer.
We listened in silence as a frantic woman pled for information about her son’s whereabouts. From the background images, I could tell Quinn Michaels’ parents were still holding court at the police department.
“His name is Quinn.” Jay’s whispered words sounded sad. “I feel like we should have known his real name before seeing it on the news.”
“I’m sure he appreciated the attention he got from your shop. That’s why he went there every day.” I wanted to make Jay feel better but I had no idea what to say in a situation like that. He didn’t really know the guy but the daily contact, regardless of how superficial it was, implied some kind of relationship that would be hard to ignore if this ended tragically.
“I can’t believe he’s actually missing. We figured he just skipped his run yesterday.” Jay slumped against the counter and crossed his arms. “I hope he’s okay.”
“That’s the new case I’ll be working on.” I rested my head against Jay’s shoulder as the picture on the TV changed to a traffic warning on the Bay Bridge.
Jay held my hand and squeezed. “I hope you find him.”
“Yeah, me too.”

The Lost by Cole McCade

The Lost by Cole McCade

Date of Publication: August 25, 2015


She's known it her whole life. She knows it every time she spreads her legs. Every time she begs for the pain, the pleasure, the heat of a hard man driving deep inside. She's a slave to her own twisted lusts--and it's eating her alive. She loves it. She craves it. Sex is her drug, and she's always chasing her next fix. But nothing can satisfy her addiction, not even the nameless men she uses and tosses aside. No one's ever given her what she truly needs.
Until Gabriel Hart.
Cold. Controlled. Impenetrable. Ex-Marine Gabriel Hart isn't the kind of man to come running when Leigh crooks her pretty little finger. She loathes him. She hungers for him. He's the only one who understands how broken she is, and just what it takes to satisfy the emptiness inside. But Gabriel won't settle for just one night. He wants to claim her, keep her, make her forever his. Together they are the lost, the ruined, the darkness at the heart of Crow City.
But Leigh has a darkness of her own. A predator stalking through her past--one she'll do anything to escape.
Even if it means running from the one man who could love her...and leaving behind something more precious to her than life itself.

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About Cole McCade

Corporate consultant by day, contemporary romance author by night.
Mid-thirties. Coffee addict. Cat lover. Bibliophile. Technophile. Definite sapiophile. Native Southerner. Runner. Country boy turned city suit. Shameless collector of guitar picks, vinyl records, and incense holders. Aficionado of late-night conversations over live music in seedy bars. Browncoat with a secret crush on Kaylee Frye.
Fascinated by human sociology, and particularly by the psychology of sex and gender – and their effect on relationship expectations, the culture of dating, and what it means to fall in love.
Non-smoker. The picture's just a stock photo. A rather broody, dark one for someone who isn't all that broody or dark, but sometimes forgets to smile even when he means to.

Find Cole McCade Online


Note: This book contains material that may be triggering for some readers
"State your name."
Cold, clipped words, blending into the noise of the police station. Leigh lifted her head from a fixed study of her clenched fingers. Colors whirled around her in a lurid carnival nightmare, too bright, too blurry. On a bench on the far side of the room, a wasted and broken scarecrow woman picked at a scab on her wrist with a certain habitual listlessness, oozing diseased red-brown blood over liver spots. Her tendons were rails under her skin, and the dull gleam of cuffs chained her to the bench. She raised her head and stared at Leigh with yellowed eyes that captured her with a sort of empty, terrifying promise.
Across the desk a policewoman waited, with that compassionate impatience only a half-step from pity and shoulder-to-shoulder with disgust. Her flat blue eyes said she'd been trained to care, but couldn't be bothered anymore. Leigh swallowed and tugged her hoodie close against the tinny air-conditioned chill. Her mouth had dried to a tacky, sticky mess, gummy pills of lipstick beading on her lips, and her tongue was a bloated and useless organ, this swollen pink thing pushing pointlessly against her teeth.
"Leigh," she ground out. "Clarissa Leigh…" Her married name scratched sandpaper syllables against her throat. "…van Zandt."
"And Miss van Zandt, do you know why you're here?"
She nodded, her neck a creaking wooden puppet-hinge. "I do."
"Your family's been worried about you."
"I know."
She knew what she should do here. Bow her head in shame and contrition, maybe even sniffle. But she looked for the emotions and they weren't there; just scraps and tatters, clinging to the empty place where they belonged. She had no feeling left, hollowed out and lost and wondering how she'd ended up here. This didn't feel real. Instead it was a dream where everyone leered in fisheye close-up, their smiles all teeth and stretched red lips and manic glee. She wanted to run, but somehow she'd gone too numb to do anything but sit here surrounded by the stink of fear-sweat, stale beer, and that particular police-station smell of urine soaked into concrete for decades on end.
"What happened to you?" the officer asked. Leigh didn't answer, and the officer's pen tapped against the forms on her desk, rat-tat-tat, rat-tat-tat, Morse code for I'd rather be anywhere but here with this spoiled little runaway princess. "It's been four years. You were declared legally dead."
"That's all right." She closed her eyes with a laugh that ripped her guts up into her mouth, and buried her face in her hands. Dead. Dead.
Yeah, that was about right.
"Miss van Zandt?"
Stop calling me that.
"Miss van Zandt. I need you to focus on my voice."
Stop calling me that!
Leigh took a measured breath and opened her eyes. Her shoulders squared. The bolts on the back of the hard, ass-biting chair dug into her shoulder blades. "I am focused. I can hear you just fine."
"Eyes are dilated." The officer—her nametag read Maroni, could there be a more clichéd name for a Crow City cop—leaned across the desk, peering at her face. Then she beckoned to the aide hovering over them like a mannequin. "I've seen this too many times. Drugs and prostitution." She talked about Leigh like she wasn't even there. "We'll have to clean her up before her husband gets here."
"I'm not on drugs. I've never been on drugs."
Maroni's pen-clicking stopped. Her disbelief was a heavy thing, push-push-pushing until Leigh nearly laughed.
"You're not on drugs."
"Then what happened?"
There it was. The first hint of exasperation. Of frustration, stitched into knitted brows and the purse of lips in just the right shade of I can't be a woman, I'm a cop mauve. Because like anyone normal, anyone who wasn't fucking broken to pieces and liked being that way, Maroni needed to make sense of this. Needed to quantify it in a world where the rules worked as normal and everyone wanted to chase that dream of happiness that wasn't anything but desperation painted over of a frantic tally of things. Things of plastic, things with value created by people whose upper lips curled when they looked down at little girls like Leigh, and demanded she account for herself in sane, rational ways that made proper sense.
Sorry, Officer Maroni.
I'm not the kind of thing that makes much sense.
Maroni pushed a harsh sound through her teeth. "You had a job, a husband, a newborn son. You had a life other people would kill for, and we find you here on the streets. Were you pressured? Kidnapped?"
"No. None of that." Leigh shook her head.
"You'll have to explain, then."
"I left." She trailed off, lips parted; no words came for long seconds, until she managed, "I…I was afraid."
"Of what?" Maroni tried to catch her eye, but Leigh looked down at her hands, at her chipped pink fingernails dipped in the sparkles of shooting stars. "Miss van Zandt. If someone was hurting you, you need to tell us now so we can take appropriate steps to protect you."
"No. No one hurt me. Not like that."
"I'm afraid you'll need to be more clear. What were you afraid of?"
She struggled for an answer. Struggled for something this woman would accept, something that would make her sigh with sympathy and pity and relieved disdain that said there, but for the Grace of God…
But again, she found nothing. Nothing but the truth, and Leigh shrugged as she looked up at the policewoman and wondered if she had daughters who might one day be like Leigh, daughters who would cut stark red lines of fingernails in the walls of flesh that caged her in the shape of pop culture's perfect woman.
"Of the inevitable monotony of it all," she said.
And smiled.
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New York Times bestselling author Avery Aster releases The Manhattanites

Manhattanites Blog Tour  

Fans of Alice Clayton, Karina Halle, Emma Chase, and Tara Sivec will enjoy this hilarious and naughty, full-length, stand-alone, cliffhanger free, m/f contemporary erotic romance novel from New York Times Bestselling Author Avery Aster. At thirty-three, Warner Truman is one of the richest men on the planet, a spa mogul who buys and sells resorts at will. He holds powerful executives’ careers in his well-groomed hands. Nothing is beyond Warner’s reach…until he meets her. Stunning, tantalizing and perverse, Taddy Brill captivates Warner’s carnal desire like no woman he’s ever met. A self-made millionaire, Taddy is tougher than steel, more brilliant than diamonds and, at twenty- seven, she’s never depended on a man for anything…until she meets him. The more Taddy plays with Warner’s affections, driving him to erotic heights, the more she is confronted by a dark past. Before she can love him, Taddy must meet her worst fears head-on or risk losing it all, including herself. Out Now! @
goodreads link


He lifted her right leg to witness her swollen cunt. She’d climaxed too many times to keep track. Warner massaged her thigh. Licking his two fingers, he slipped them into her asshole. “Warner!” She grabbed onto his shoulders. With a sly glance, he offered her a villainous smile. “I’ve never done anal.” “Please.” “I’d love to try.” She kissed his lips. “You’re going to have to be gentle, though. No rough stuff.” Look who’s talking. “Music to my ears.” He reached behind him for a condom from the nightstand and the bottle of lube. “Can you also be gentle?” After unwrapping the condom, she sheathed his erection. “You should special order extra-ginormous rubbers for the next time.” Taddy laughed, tickling his balls, but had nothing to say about his tough-girl- in-bed question. Next time? “So, you’re saying you want to see my penis again?” He took a quarter size of silicone oil onto his hand and lacquered her asshole. “Perhaps.” She squirted lube all over his hard-on. It grew with each stroke. Ready, his cock itched with intense pleasure. Having Red rub his dick, even when wrapped in Latex, felt euphoric. “Taddy, baby.” He slid two fingers into her ass, testing her tightness. “It burns,” she gasped. “You weren’t kidding.” He tried for three fingers. Taddy gripped his cock and pressed the tip to her anus. “Go slow.” Obviously scared, she kissed him sweetly. “I promise.” He pulled her into him, ready to take charge. Readjusting her leg around him, he buried his tongue in her mouth. His cock pushed into Red’s ass. Her warmth guided him deeper. “You’re doing good, baby.” He kissed her again. “Breathe for me. Take a deep breath.” He went in more. Taddy inhaled, then exhaled as her ass opened a little more. “Baby.” He sank in farther. “I’m nearly all the way in.” He kissed her again, putting attention on her nipples, massaging her sore breasts. She was beautiful. She was quiet. She was sweet. His cock drove further into her tight, hot asshole. He loved it. “God, Warner.” “I’m in, honey. All the way.” He rocked her gorgeous body back and forth. His manhood guided her frame against his. Warner could come right that second. However, he held it. “How do you feel?” Cupping her breasts, he drilled her ass. “Amazing,” she panted. “You’re…” “Don’t fight it. Let me be one with your body. Lie with me inside you.” He pumped back and forth. “You’ll get familiar with my dick, I promise.” “I love it!” Taddy screamed in pleasure.

  Undressed_highres   Fans of Sylvia Day, R.K. Lilley, Christina Lauren, and Maya Banks will enjoy this hilarious and naughty, full-length, stand-alone, cliffhanger free, m/f contemporary erotic romance novel from New York Times Bestselling Author Avery Aster. Milan’s notorious playboy, Prince Tittoni, seems to have everything–Lamborghinis, exotic women, palaces throughout Europe and business success. Ramping up his fabric company to go global with a new apparel brand, he ruthlessly stops supplying fabrics to the American client who inspired the collection. But once they meet, what’s he willing to give to get her in his bed? Upper East Side designer Lex Easton has already endured her fair share of hard knocks. She’ll be damned if she’ll let an Italian stud muffin knock her down. So what if she named her favorite vibrator after him? With Fashion Week approaching, she’ll do whatever it takes to secure the fabrics she needs to make her clothing line an international success–even sleep with her rival. Lex’s Louboutins are dug in deep to win this war. All’s fair in love and fashion! Out now! @
goodreads link


“I want you, Lex Easton,” he moaned, pressing his hand over her backside and pulling her in with a tight force. Massimo plunged his tongue deeper into her mouth. Their noses meshed, and as he pulled his face from hers, he wiped the dampness from his forehead. She noticed and wondered if she made him nervous? “Bring it on, my prince!” She brought her right leg up around his left. Lex didn’t want to let him go. She craved more. Unsure what came over her, she leaned forward and kissed him back with a feverish intent as her breasts grazed his chest and desire exploded inside her. Her nipples became hard with desire. She fell against the sofa, where he shoved her sundress up around her waist. He studied her lacy thong. She loved him looking, more than ever when he ground his hips against her. “Sei bellissima,” he murmured, nuzzling her earlobes. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” “Tell me again and again,” she joked, getting more at ease with his compliments. Massimo’s words echoed in her ear. “I told you the dress looked good on you. I bet it will look even better off you.” He grinned. “Touch me.” She took his right hand and placed it over her panties, letting his thumb hook on her fabric.Rip it off already. His fingers glided up her bare stomach and tickled her with pleasure. Upon each caress, his lips kissed her body. He tugged on the little carnation bow centered on her G string. “What do we have here, bella?” With both hands, he lowered the ivory fabric which kept her private, wrapping the metallic lace between his fingers, and she became exposed—vulnerable and naked in his arms. But he didn’t lower his own slacks, though his zipper seemed as if it would split his linens, revealing his hung loins at any minute. “Take off your pants,” she bossed. She was a Manhattanite. What did Massimo expect? “Patience, my bella. I favor taking my time.” He brushed her lips with his pointer and middle finger. With a slow drop of her jaw, she opened her mouth as he inserted two fingers over her tongue. “Such a tight, hot, mouth—my cock on your lips and down your throat will do you some good, bella. Your tongue is too sharp.” “Mmmmm,” she mumbled. Sucking his fingers, pretending his cock fucked her mouth, she tasted vetiver. His skin felt callous, rough, and yet his nails groomed and smooth. Lex swallowed, imagining for a second it was his load going down her throat. “This is what I’ll be doing to your cock soon enough.” She spoke with confident poise. Unsure where in the hell it came from, she’d run with it. It turned him on. His eyes widened with excitement. “Good girl, bella. I love the way your tongue feels against my fingers. Wet suede is how your cunt will feel hugging my cock—when I am inside you,” he continued with a gaze into her eyes. Massimo challenged her to see how verbal she could be. “Sounds good to me. Let’s go, Masi.” Sweet tiramisu, his voice is making me wet. His words reverberated in her head as a spell cast to unleash her deepest fantasies. She wanted to be his utopia. Massimo’s coolness combined with determination terrified her—in a good way. “I bet you have a wet cunt.” He shoved his fingers into her mouth. His commanding, deep, baritone voice was hypnotic. I do now. Her pussy creamed while listening to him speak, while his tone vibrated though her entire body. “Yes, yes, Masi.” For a second her entrepreneurial brain imagined recording him speak, selling it on iTunes, calling it Come While Massimo Talks. Women could charge up their Masi’s Salami vibrators, lie on their beds, play his voice and off they’d go—to sunflower island. Jesus Fucking Christ. “Let me touch you, feel your pussy, bella.” Touch me for sure. Feel me, you bet. Fuck me, let’s go. Massimo pulled his two wet fingers from her mouth as she whispered, “Do it.” Saliva strings connected his two fingers resembling fine silk. “I want your pussy soaking.” He then re-licked his tips and fingered one inside her. Yes, yes, yes. A pleasurable moan rose in her throat as he went deeper, stimulating her clit. A vibration hummed through her body. Her womanhood found its own tune chiming through her, following the conductor’s direction. It was set to an Italian station, that was for sure. Bliss. Ecstasy. Joy. “More. Give more…”  

  Unsaid_highres     For fans who loved the snarky wit of Will & Grace and the epic love drama found in Brokeback Mountain comes Avery Aster’s new full-length, standalone contemporary M/M romance novel, Unsaid. Chelsea’s hottie Blake Morgan III has reemerged from a nasty breakup. His marriage was a frigid disaster beyond repair, and he vows to be single—forever. Bruised, but still hot in Prada, he creates his Seven Desires wish list, his sexiest imaginings. Blake soon realizes there’s only one man he may trust to make these uninhibited intentions come to fruition: his best friend Miguel Santana. Lower East Side multimedia artist extraordinaire Miguel Santana may be known as the cocky Latin stud in the city, but all he’s wanted since college was Blake’s hand in marriage. He was livid when Blake walked down the aisle with the wrong guy. Miguel has his own list titled the Seven Needs, which are quite contrary to Blake’s dirty-boy deeds. They involve serious commitments, which may leave his new- to-the-singles-scene buddy sprinting for the door, destroying any hopes Miguel has for happiness. Can these two hunks conquer their intimate fears and love one another as only best friends can? Join the star-studded cast in The Manhattanites series and see for yourself!   goodreads link    
Releasing September 1st @

Unsaid Teaser 2

  Excerpt     “I’ve never had a massage in bed.” His body responded to every touch. “Your shoulders are tense. You anxious?” He pressed his fingers harder, sensing worry between his fingers. “Watching this erotic movie and straining my eyes to read what they’re saying is stressing me out,” he joked. Turning his head on the gray pillow, Blake revealed a sweet grin. On his stomach, he stretched out, comfortable in Miguel’s arms. He felt his friend’s entire body go limp. He worked his thumbs down the spine toward his ass and realized he should have a bigger TV. His small screen was from way back. Then again, he wasn’t one for sitcoms or at-home movies. Not when he was in bed with the hottest blonde he’d ever known. Blake arched his ass upward for him to play with. He spread the buttocks wide with his slippery hands and admired the tight pucker in the center. “I can’t wait to be inside you.” He settled his cock between the ass cheeks and ground. “I’m nervous.” “Don’t be. I’ll be gentle.” He wanted to bust his nut inside him right then. Their ten-year sexual build-up was enough to make anyone explode. Blake was worth the wait. One more day and his friend would be his. “You, gentle?” Blake tightened his ass cheeks and hugged Miguel’s cock as if it were a hot dog enclosed by a bun and said, “Yeah, right.” He shuffled his legs and hands under his frame. “You’ll see, my bebé. I’ll make you hum.” He finished the session with reflexology to the feet.


About the Author
New York Times bestselling author Avery Aster pens The Manhattanites, a contemporary erotic romance series of full-length, stand-alone novels, and the naughty new adult prequel companion series The Undergrad Years.
As a resident of New York City and a graduate from New York University, Avery gives readers an inside look at the city’s glitzy nightlife, socialite sexcapades and tall tales of the über-rich and ultra-famous.
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Enter to win a kindle paperwhite and pass to Denver RomCon Reader Day 9/26/15

Want to attend a Romance Readers Weekend in Denver next month?

What if you can meet authors like Charlotte Abel, Aria Grace, Aspen Drake and so many others?

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Aria Grace's Looking For Home -- Early Release on Amazon

Aria Grace is proud to announce book 9 of her
best-selling m/m romance More Than Friends series.

Early Release on Amazon 8/15
Available everywhere 8/21

Amazon | iBooks | Nook | All Romance Ebooks

 Looking For Home
Series: More Than Friends
Author: Aria Grace
Genre: MM Contemporary
Publisher: Surrendered Press
Heat Level: Explicit

“He’s hot,” Spencer says in my ear. “And single. You should totally go for it.”
“What are you talking about?” I spin toward Spencer, splashing the melting ice water from my glass.
“Georgie.” He nods toward the slender man I’ve been stalking. “He’s a doll. Very sweet and sexy, if you don’t mind a diva.”
I can’t hold back a small grin. I do like a diva.
“I’ll take that as a yes?” Spencer grabs my elbow and we start walking before I realize what he’s doing.
Before I can step away or tell him to stop, we’re rounding on one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen. Amber eyes meet mine for a moment before trailing down my body.
I can feel his gaze like a lead blanket unrolling down my body.  When his eyes finally return to mine, there’s a twinkle there I haven’t see in a long time. Not since that first night with Nick. Back when he was still impressed by what he saw when he looked at me.
“Georgie,” Spencer’s steady voice reminds me to lift my jaw and smile politely, “have you met Evan? He’s Chuck’s friend. His old roommate.”
Something unreadable flashes across Georgie’s face and his entire demeanor changes. A coy smile spreads across his face and the side tilt of his head makes my dick twitch as he gives me a more obvious inspection.
“Evan?” He takes a step forward and drops his limp wrist in front of my chest, expecting me to hold it. “Well, I had no idea Chuck had such scrumptious taste in roommates.”
I gently close my hand around his and pull his knuckles to my lips, brushing a light kiss across them. “It’s a pleasure, Georgie.”
The golden hue of his eyes darkens as he watches my mouth against his hand. When I slowly lower his wrist and release it, a visible shudder passes through Georgie. He recovers quickly, bouncing on his toes as if he’s trying to see my backside.
I’m tempted to turn around and give him a real look but I can’t bear the thought of looking away.
“The pleasure is mine.” Georgie looks at Spencer. “Why haven’t you brought this beefcake around before? You know I’m a loyal carnivore, through and through.”
Spencer laughs and shakes his head, whispering in my ear. “Good luck with that. Don’t get hurt.”
Once Spencer’s presence is far enough away that we can speak freely, I look around. There’s a dance floor with several couples slow dancing to fast music, while others mingle in small groups. “Would you like to dance, Georgie?”
Georgie’s diva façade almost cracks as his eyes soften. But before he’s able to let down the barrier that he obviously hides behind, it’s back and fully secured.
“These hips don’t lie, Evan.” He steps into my chest and thrusts into me twice. “Let’s go see what kind of promises they have to make.”