OUT TODAY! Born to Rule book 5: North

“North”: Blurb: Nora hopes to find a husband at the Gathering, but the directions they were given are wrong and a huge cliff separates them from the direction they need to travel. Mu Araen warrior Herman keeps watch on the nav system hoping to find his bride. Instead he finds an entire community stranded and in trouble. Will he find his bride here?

Buy link: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/north-by-berengaria-brown/

PG13 Teaser for “Born to Rule” book 5: “North” by Berengaria Brown

As soon as it grew dark Simon said, “Sleep now, everyone. Tomorrow we’ll stay here so everyone can rest and recover, and then we’ll push on and reach the Gathering place in two days.”
She’d forgotten that the people hadn’t been told there was still a two-day walk ahead of them, but few people complained. Most were glad of the rest though. She wondered if everyone would sit up late around the fires, talking, but Herman’s hand on her arm reminded her she wasn’t a free agent anymore. She had a warrior to serve. She picked up her pack and followed him away from the main group of people. They didn’t go very far, perhaps half a mile, to where a small purple tent had been set up. She stood still and looked all around. If she checked very carefully she could see the faintest hint of another purple tent well to her right, so she guessed all the warriors had tents and had pitched them over here. She liked the idea of community, yet privacy. Her own people had no tents. They wrapped themselves in a blanket to sleep and stayed near the fires. But of course, they’d expected to be at the Gathering by now.
“Crawl inside,” Herman told her, his eyes glowing bright purple in the dim light.
Obediently she dropped to her knees and scrambled through the opening. There was a foam mattress on the ground with a blanket over it and a single pillow at the end of the tent. What was she supposed to do? Sit on the bed? Herman had referred to her as his bride, but what exactly did that mean to him? Was she more a servant or more a partner? In her community young women were considered of lesser value than young men. Sometimes that might change with age, as old women were still able to cook and care for the children, whereas some old men had few useful skills. But that didn’t help her now. What would her warrior expect of her? To be safe, she kneeled in the gap between the bed and the tent.
Herman followed her in, dragging her luggage with him, and pressed the sides of the flap together, sealing them inside.
“Is it all right to leave these here?” he asked, leaving the bundles to one side of the doorway.
“The big one isn’t mine. I’m carrying it for someone else. The small one has my things in it, but I don’t need them right now thank you.”
“Why are you carrying someone else’s bundle? It’s heavy.”
He sounded curious rather than angry, so she smiled as she answered him. “That’s why I’m carrying it, because it’s heavy. Josie has a new baby to carry, and a three year old she also has to carry some of the time because he gets tired of walking. She has a small bundle of the things the children need, but she can’t tote all these things as well.”
“I should think not. Why doesn’t the children’s father carry the older child?”
Nora looked down. She liked James. He was much nicer than Remy and some of the other men, but—
“Many of the young men consider helping the women to be beneath them. Young men are the highest ranked people in the community, under the leader. If they go around helping women and children and low ranked people they might lose their status in the eyes of the other men.”
“In the eyes of men like that idiot who threw the water away?”
“Remy? Definitely. He would never help anyone.”
“I can see I’ll need to chat with Simon about the value of cooperation. If Mu Araens can help save his planet he can learn to help his own community.”
Nora shivered a little at his strong tone. The words he used were perfectly ordinary, but the power and intensity behind them told her that people like Remy wouldn’t like what Herman said. She had to agree though, that it wouldn’t hurt the men to help out a little. They didn’t all need to be ready to challenge danger all the time. There hadn’t been the slightest hint of danger at all, and the men who were supposed to be guarding the people were huddled together talking to each other for most of the evenings and during the journey instead of watching for trouble anyway.
“Enough talk. Come to me, my bride. Do you understand that you belong to me now and that I must claim you to release your power?”
“Yes,” she said, although she wasn’t quite clear on what belonging to him, or being claimed would involve, or what releasing her power meant either.
“On Mu Arae 7 we have a saying about claiming our bride. ‘Morning, noon and night. Fuck her mouth, fuck her cunt, fuck her ass.’ I plan to fuck you in all three places tonight. Are you ready for me, my bride?”
Simon had given her to Herman. She was Herman’s possession now. For a moment she wished he’d hold her so she could see if the spark between them burned again. Then she realized it didn’t matter anyway. It was too late. She had no say in the matter and besides, he seemed a nice and caring person. She’d begun this journey to the Gathering thinking she might find a husband, and one had been given to her. While she hadn’t been expecting so much sex with no warning, there was a good chance she’d enjoy it, maybe have a few orgasms, and it’d be nice to be married and not a young woman at the bottom of the social system, with only children of less value than her.
“I’m ready for you. I’m your woman. But I’m not very experienced and you must teach me what you like and how to please you.”
“Oh, I’ll teach you many things. Undress for me, my bride.”

Buy link: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/north-by-berengaria-brown/

Gay Lovers in China: Gay Travel Inc. Book 4

The final book in the "Gay Travel Inc." series is out today!

"Gay Lovers in China" (MM) by Berengaria Brown "Gay Travel Inc." book 4

Tyler Robbins, the owner of Gay Travel Inc., decides to send four of his best—and single—travel agents to different continents to report on romantic travel venues there. Raymond Marsh is sent to China.

Eric Yu is a travel agent, a gay man in a land where homosexuality still isn’t widely accepted. He longs to move to the land of his mother, America, but first he needs a job. When Tyler asks him to act as a guide for Ray, Eric is determined not to ruin his one big chance.

Ray finds Beijing hot and humid but there's an endless array of amazing cultural sites dating back four thousand years to see, plus his rather delicious looking guide. Eric takes Ray to the usual tourist venues. He does his utmost to be the perfect guide. But Ray senses he is hiding a problem behind his bland façade.

Can Eric open up and share his secrets with Ray?

Buy link: http://www.bookstrand.com/book/gay-lovers-in-china

STORY EXCERPT

The moment he’d received the e-mail from Tyler Robbins of Gay Travel Inc., he’d known this would be his one opportunity to easily make the transfer to his mother’s homeland where he could finally follow his sexual preference. Much as he loved China, and he’d been happy here, the idea of living in a land where he could openly follow his sexual desires was incredibly appealing. However, to do that he would need not just an American mother, but also a hope of employment. Eric knew if he could demonstrate to Tyler how good a travel agent he was, then his ability to speak Mandarin as fluently as English would bring genuine benefit to the company and, he hoped, win him a job.
He was determined to do his utmost to show Mr. Marsh the splendors of Beijing and had spent the time between receiving Mr. Robbins’s e-mail and Mr. Marsh’s arrival studying every possible venue Mr. Marsh might wish to visit.
He wanted to talk to his client to learn the places he most wished to visit, but right now Mr. Marsh was busy watching out the window and taking pictures so it wasn’t an appropriate time to distract him. When the train was about to arrive at Dongcheng, Eric cleared his throat and said, “Mr. Marsh, you will need to follow me please. Here we change lines. We must catch the Xicheng line now.”
Eric took charge of his client’s suitcase and led the way. Unfortunately the Xicheng line was the second oldest line, older than him, and not as beautiful as the airport line, but it looped around the heart of the city and took people everywhere they needed to go.
Providentially, Mr. Marsh was still busy looking around himself at everything and not condemnatory although likely he was tired after his long flight. Eric made a mental note not to tire him out too much.
It was only a few blocks from the station to the hotel, but they’d only gone a few paces on the street, when his client said, “Wait up a minute.”
Obediently Eric stopped and looked at Mr. Marsh, who removed his jacket, tied it to his backpack, and then said, “Is it always this hot here?”
It didn’t seem hot to Eric, but he answered cautiously. “July is summer in Beijing. If you wish, a T-shirt and shorts are permissible attire in most places. If you tell me your itinerary and the sites you most want to visit, we can leave anywhere that requires the covering of the skin until a cooler day.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
They began walking again, and his guest appeared relieved when they entered the hotel, which was, of course, air conditioned. Eric waved to the chairs in the foyer area. “I will wait here while you check in and then perhaps you can tell me what you would like me to arrange for tomorrow.”
Eric checked his cell phone. The top temperature for today had been ninety, which was about average for July, and the humidity was eighty, which was just a fraction higher than normal. He would need to remember his client found that combination hot before planning a day to the Great Wall. The problem was that for the best pictures, the tour of the Great Wall needed to be on a day with no fog. Everyone knew that air pollution in Beijing could be a problem, but no one ever called it anything other than fog in public.
He scrolled through the forecast for the next few days. Today was Tuesday. Friday was predicted to be a low of sixty-eight and a top of eighty-eight with forty percent humidity. That would be suitable.
Already Eric found himself automatically converting the temperatures on his cell phone from Celsius to Fahrenheit so he could provide them in an understandable format for the American. He also reminded himself to bring mosquito repellant. The rain brought out biting insects and that would not be good for tourism.
Mr. Marsh returned just then and said, “Come up to my room. We can get a cold drink and talk there.”
At once Eric was embarrassed that he hadn’t thought to provide cold water or hot tea for his guest. That was a bad mistake and one he wouldn’t repeat tomorrow. He followed his client into the elevator and up to the sixth floor and smiled as Mr. Marsh opened the door to Room 606. “This is a good room. Good for business,” he said.
His client didn’t appear to be listening. He walked across to the air conditioner and turned it onto high speed then lowered the temperature setting several degrees. Eric waited just inside the door.
“Can you please ask room service to deliver a couple of ice-cold beers? Plus whatever you’d like. And a snack for us both. Whatever is usual for an evening snack. Tell them to add it to my room account. Then we can plan tomorrow as you asked.”
“You don’t wish to see the menu?”
“No. I’d rather have whatever the locals are having. To get a feel for the culture here.”
Eric did as he said and then waited once again.
His client had pulled off his shirt, removed his shoes and socks, and was standing in front of the air conditioning unit, clearly trying to cool down. His abs and pecs were well defined, his chest a solid wall of muscle. Across his right side was a swirling tattoo of vine leaves and tribal markings surrounding a dagger, and on his left shoulder was a map of the world with parts of it colored blue, red, and green.
When the doorbell rang, Eric looked at Mr. Marsh, unsure if he should answer, but the American stepped forward as the waiter wheeled the food cart in and placed the tray on the small table. Mr. Marsh signed the account, thanked the waiter, and closed the door. “Thank God. Let’s eat. And talk.”
Then Eric’s jaw dropped open in surprise as his client unzipped his jeans and stepped out of them, revealing tight blue boxer briefs. Wearing nothing but his underwear, he sat at the table and waved at Eric to join him.

Buy link: http://www.bookstrand.com/book/gay-lovers-in-china

Two men and a Romantic Vacation Destination #MFRWHooks

The final book in the "Gay Travel Inc." series is now available for pre-order. You can read all four stories of romance in exotic locations: in Paris, on Safari, Down Under, and in China.

The Hook:
“Can you please ask room service to deliver a couple of ice-cold beers? Plus whatever you’d like. And a snack for us both. Whatever is usual for an evening snack. Tell them to add it to my room account. Then we can plan tomorrow as you asked.”

“You don’t wish to see the menu?”

“No. I’d rather have whatever the locals are having. To get a feel for the culture here.”

Eric did as he said and then waited once again.

His client had pulled off his shirt, removed his shoes and socks, and was standing in front of the air conditioning unit, clearly trying to cool down. His abs and pecs were well defined, his chest a solid wall of muscle. Across his right side was a swirling tattoo of vine leaves and tribal markings surrounding a dagger, and on his left shoulder was a map of the world with parts of it colored blue, red, and green.

When the doorbell rang, Eric looked at Mr. Marsh, unsure if he should answer, but the American stepped forward as the waiter wheeled the food cart in and placed the tray on the small table. Mr. Marsh signed the account, thanked the waiter, and closed the door. “Thank God. Let’s eat. And talk.”

Then Eric’s jaw dropped open in surprise as his client unzipped his jeans and stepped out of them, revealing tight blue boxer briefs. Wearing nothing but his underwear, he sat at the table and waved at Eric to join him.

"Gay Lovers in China" by Berengaria Brown. "Gay Travel Inc." book 4.

Blurb: Tyler Robbins, the owner of Gay Travel Inc., decides to send four of his best—and single—travel agents to different continents to report on romantic travel venues there. Raymond Marsh is sent to China.

Eric Yu is a travel agent, a gay man in a land where homosexuality still isn’t widely accepted. He longs to move to the land of his mother, America, but first he needs a job. When Tyler asks him to act as a guide for Ray, Eric is determined not to ruin his one big chance.

Ray finds Beijing hot and humid but there's an endless array of amazing cultural sites dating back four thousand years to see, plus his rather delicious looking guide. Eric takes Ray to the usual tourist venues. He does his utmost to be the perfect guide. But Ray senses he is hiding a problem behind his bland façade.

Can Eric open up and share his secrets with Ray?

Buy link: http://www.bookstrand.com/book/gay-lovers-in-china

Gay Lovers Down Under

Gay Lovers Down Under (MM) by Berengaria Brown
Gay Travel Inc. book 3

Blurb: Tyler Robbins, the owner of Gay Travel Inc., decides to send four of his best—and single—travel agents to different continents to report on romantic travel venues there. Quentin Wood is sent to Australia but after twenty-two hours of flights and a fourteen hour time zone change he’s exhausted. Add to that he can’t understand a word of the mangled English his guide, Justin Cook, uses.
Juz likes the look of his sexy new client, if he’d just relax a little. Juz is determined to show the man he calls Woody all the sights, including some more intimate personal ones.
Quentin can’t get his head around the idea of driving two thousand miles in two days to visit some place where the temperature sits above one hundred degrees for six months straight. Tyler has sent him to Hell. But if this is Hell, that means Justin’s the devil, and he’s a mighty attractive devil.

Buy link: http://www.bookstrand.com/book/gay-lovers-down-under

STORY EXCERPT

Justin Cook, Juz or Juzza to his mates, shook his long blond hair off his face, left his red dual-cab Holden ute in a No Parking area, and walked into the hotel. He marched straight up to the chick in the snazzy suit behind the teak reception counter and said, “I’m here to pick up Quentin Wood. Can you tell him to get his ass into gear? I’m in a no parking zone.”
He headed back outside, relieved that no interfering sod had given him a parking ticket, and leaned his butt on the front grill of his truck. It was a sunny day, although bloody cold of course. July was midwinter and the coldest month of the year here in Sydney, but it was also relatively dry, so good for sightseeing.
Juz stared back into the hotel, but there was no sign of his client appearing yet. A bunch of twittering females emerged, all teetering along in ultra-high heels. He didn’t understand how women could balance on those things. He looked down at the thongs on his feet and smiled. There was nothing more comfortable to walk in than a nice pair of rubber thongs, although he would wear boots when they were in some places in the desert. Mostly snakes and spiders would run away if he made a noise, but he wasn’t paid enough to risk a snakebite.
Ah, this’d be his client now. The man was around his own height, six foot even, with a baseball cap covering most of his brown hair, and wearing a plain white T-shirt over his jeans. He carried a small backpack and a blue windcheater.
Juz straightened up and called, “Hey, Woody, over here.”
The man just stared at him, and then took a few hesitant steps in his direction.
“Come on, mate. This’s a no-parking zone. I don’t want a flaming ticket. Shift your ass.”
The man walked closer and asked, “Are you Mr. Cook, my guide?”
“Correct. Let’s go.” Juz walked to the car door and went to get in, only to find his client standing right behind him. “Other side, mate. This is Australia. We drive on the left.”
The man looked confused, blushed, and hurried around the ute to climb in. Juz turned the ignition on and pointed to the seat belt. “It’s the law here. You have to wear a seat belt.”
“Yes, front seat passengers and drivers have to wear a seat belt at home.”
“Backseat as well here, although they’re pretty laid back in the Northern Territory. It’s only been the law there for a couple of years, and they’ve only recently started enforcing it. Here, the cops’ll fine you as soon as look at you. I’ll take you over the coat hanger first, and then around to the Opera House, okay?”
“Coat hanger?”
“Sydney Harbor Bridge.”
“Oh, yes, thank you, sir.”
Juz shook his head. These Yanks were all mad. “We don’t use sir or ma’am here except for the military, okay?”
“What do you call people? And what did you call me before?”
“Woody. Isn’t that what your mates at school called you?” Juz slid through a nice little gap in the traffic and across to the correct lane to go over the bridge.
“No, si—so what should I call you?”
“Only me mum calls me Justin. Everyone uses Juz or Juzza sometimes. Here’s your first really good look at the bridge. When we get to the Opera House you’ll get some much better pictures of it, though.”
“My name’s Quentin. Part of my job is to take a lot of pictures. I can just delete any that are unsatisfactory. Did Tyler mention anything to you about the purpose of this journey?”
“You’re supposed to advertise a romantic holiday down under for gays. Not a problem. I’m gay and can take you to all the best bars and nightclubs even though I hate them. Meanwhile I’ll drive you around Sydney today and tomorrow and then we’ll head outback. You want to see the rock, right?”
“The rock?”
“Uluru, Ayers Rock, Yulara.”
“Oh, yes please.”
“About three thousand ks—kilometers—say thirty hours give or take. Leave here bright and early Friday, be there Sunday arvo, no sweat.”
“Wait. What? We’re driving? Three thousand kilometers in thirty hours? That’s um, getting up toward two thousand miles in thirty hours? You’re insane.”
“Once we get past Port Augusta there won’t be much traffic apart from the occasional road train.”
Quentin had been watching out the window, taking pictures of the harbor. Now he turned and looked at Juz. Juz could see his movements out of the corner of his eye even while paying attention to the traffic, which wasn’t too bad anyway.
“We can sit down and plan the next few days later when I can look at maps instead of taking pictures. And have some coffee.”
The last sentence was softer, almost muttered. Juz got the idea his client was struggling to cope with everything.
“Still feeling a tad jetlagged are you, mate?’”

http://www.bookstrand.com/book/gay-lovers-down-under