Out Now!!

Kia Ora...

It has been a busy week, not only did I push publish on Love Unpicked (House of Bolton 6, but there was also a cover reveal for this years O Deadly Night Anthology! On top of that i still managed to unpack a few more boxes and get more words written on both the anthology short and Bishop (Crime Lords 6).

This week not only do I have more writing to do... always the writing, but I also need to get two parcels sent off so they reach my two kids (soon to be 19 & 21) before their birthdays. Might've been easier if they were in the same city... but they're not, so, I'll just need to be organised.

New Release - Love Unpicked

BLURB:

She kept his son from him…

When Connor’s high school sweetheart, Teri, walked back into his life after disappearing seventeen years ago, he wasn’t sure whether to be happy to see her…or angry. And anger almost overruled the desire surging in his veins when Connor learns the reason behind Teri’s disappearance… the child that she’d kept secret. A child who should’ve grown up learning of his Italian—his mafia—heritage—only to be denied by a grandfather who thought he could keep Connor’s son from a life lived in the shadows of society.

Except the mafia blood running through his son’s veins proves to be strong.

His cousins killed her father…

But Teri wasn’t the only one with secrets, as the reason behind a badly kept family one became clear. Connor only wished that his cousins hadn’t waited until after their deaths to share those secrets with him.

Love Unpicked is a 59k novel that features a second chance love story, the revealing of secrets regarding a child’s parentage, and a dangerous step into the city’s underworld. It is the sixth book in the House of Bolton series which can be read as a standalone story.

Grab it Now!

Updates

General

• Working on getting my Ream subscription ready to launch. Only a few more tweaks to be made and it will be ready!!

Also need to decide on the extra story that'll be serialised for the higher subscription tiers. The choices are:

• Blood in the Snow (Crime Reports Prequel) - Mitsui Takagi's story
• A Knight Forged (The Moutrams) - Eion's story
• Knight Protector (The Moutrams) - Bauer's story
• Untitled Rom-suspense set in Okinawa
• Untitled Darker story - MM, Bisexual Awakening, Obsession, Manipulation

Have you got a preference?

Then vote in the poll pinned to the top of my reader's group - Greenwood's Groupies - and help me decide.

Naomi Aoki

• Their are a few characters who've decided they don't want to be ignored... but they'll just have to wait. Not that dipping back into the world of the Yakuza is much of a hardship.

Mandy Greenwood

• Over halfway through the rewrite of Love You Forever, Drayce.
• 13.5k words written on Bishop so far. The plot lines for it are beginning to become clear including a few twists that I hadn't initially thought of doing.

MJ Green

• Released Love Unpicked (House of Bolton 6)... promoing
• Defrocked is waiting for me to find time to figure out where the plot has gone wonky.
• 7k words written so far on Ave Fucking Maria... this is a priority to get finished so that I can get it to my proofreader and make the necessary changes before needing to submit on the Sept. 1.

Cover Reveal - O Deadly Night Anthology Vol.2

O Deadly Night Volume 2: A Dark MM Charity Anthology

• Cover by Amai Designs
• Release Date: November 14, 2023
• Special Preorder Price: $4.99
• Add to TBR: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/181185145-o-deadly-night

O Deadly Night is back, and this time the happiest season of all is hiding even more secrets.

So you better watch out. I’ll tell you why. The lights don’t twinkle as bright where the villains hide. And there’s no comfort and joy to be found in the darkness, even if it is the holiday season.

Join several dark MM authors as they once again explore the darker half of the holidays while also spreading cheer and support to LGBTQ youth.

*O Deadly Night Volume 2 is a Dark MM anthology with all proceeds to be donated to The Trevor Project and featuring stories by:

Alex J. Adams - Sean Azinsalt - Bey Deckard - Abrianna Denae - Elouise R East

MJ Green - K.L. Hiers - Alexis Jane - Abigail Kade - Briar Kearney - Leigh Kenzie - Davidson King - Reese Knightley - Duckie Mack - R. Phoenix & Adara Wolf - Jack L. Pyke - Faith Ryan - Remi Varlow

Preorder Now

Bookfunnel Promo

Bad Boys, Mafia, and Romantic Suspense

Chapter Nineteen

Jordan sat in his car parked outside the team facilities, fingers drumming on the steering wheel while he watched the rest of his teammates head through the doors for practice. His hesitation to walk inside was unlike him, and yet Jordan doubted anyone would blame for it. None his teammates or even the coaching staff would begrudge him the mixed emotions that were running through his veins. Excitement at once more being able to stand in the bullpen with Mike… and the disappointment that his husband would no longer be his catcher.

He knew that his disappointment was misplaced and unfair on Mike. The moment that runner had collided with Mike, damaging his knee in a way that ended his career, Jordan had known Mike wouldn’t crouch behind the plate again. But that didn’t mean Jordan couldn’t wish for it… couldn’t be angry at what had been stolen from him, and not just Mike. And it had taken months for Jordan to accept that it was okay for him to be angry at the player too…that he didn’t need to feel guilty about those emotions simply because he’d not suffered physically like Mike. The counsellor he’d spent months working with had quickly pointed out that Jordan’s trauma from the incident was no less than Mikes, merely different, but equally as valid.

His life… the career he’d envisaged had been changed that day to, along with Mikes.

And it was all coming back.

The anger.

The frustration.

The pain.

The devastation.

Gratefulness at once more being on the same team as Mike was what Jordan knew he should be feeling. And he was. Grateful at this chance…this opportunity that they’d been handed.

Yet Mike’s role within the team had now changed… and he shouldn’t have a problem with that. Jordan had fought with Mike for exactly this to happen. He’d wanted this for Mike from the moment Hunter had dragged him back from the depths of the hell Mike had tumbled into… Refused to accept that Mike wouldn’t ever step back into a bullpen. Hell, Jordan had wanted this to happen when the team owner had torn up Mike’s contract and paid him out for the remaining years of it.

And now it was happening.

Mike would stand once more in the bullpen, glaring at catchers who failed to frame pitches correctly, gently correcting a pitches grip and form on the mound, and barking at Jordan to stop trying to worm his way out of practice.

Except he couldn’t help…couldn’t explain the weirdness of his feelings toward it. A strange sense of—hell, Jordan wasn’t really sure what it was. He wanted Mike as their pitching coach. Couldn’t think of anyone better suited to work with the teams pitchers and ensure they played to their full potential. Mike had already been doing all that in his role as senior catcher before his forced retirement. Maybe it was jealousy at having to share Mike with the other pitchers and the catchers on the team when he got precious few minutes alone with his husband. A realisation that unlike when Mike was a player, Jordan couldn’t dominate his husband’s time like he’d done in the past.

Jealousy…

Yeah, that might be it, Jordan thought with a snort.

A knock on his window startled Jordan, yanking him from his ponderous thoughts and he turned his head, ready to blast whoever had done it. But the scowl on his face quickly disappeared when Jordan spotted Mike leaning on the car while grinning at him.

“Sitting in your car won’t get you out of practice, Jordan. Maybe it’d get you another two kilometres on the treadmills instead… or cleaning all the balls after practice,” Mike joked as Jordan lowered the window.

A salacious comment about what balls he’d rather be cleaning rested on the tip of Jordan’s tongue before he swallowed it back down preferring to speak the truth. “I was just…thinking.”

“Yeah. I could tell,” Mike replied, the earlier humour in his voice fleeing. “Look, if you’re not ready for me to be here today”—sighing heavily—“I can leave and deal with this all over vid-call. It’s not like I don’t have that option in my contract.”

“No. No, I want you here,” Jordan said hurriedly. “The team wants you here”—raising the window before opening the door and stepping out—“we’ve all missed your presence in the bullpen.”

Mike took a step back and shook his head, a wry chuckle tumbling from his lips. “The older members of the squad, those who shared the dugout with me while I was still playing…yeah, maybe they want me back. But the newer players? Those who started after I retired…members who might’ve idolised who I’d been in the past…that’s a lot harder to believe. Their enthusiasm is probably on account of their being pleased the previous pitching coach is gone.”

“Well, yeah”—locking his car and striding toward the entrance with Mike following close behind—“we’re all fucking glad to be rid of that arsehole. But don’t you dare think that that’s the only reason for the team to be excited about your return.”

“Time will tell, I guess.” Mike shrugged.

“Yes, it will… and time will prove you wrong.”

Mike sighed and ran his hand through his hair while the hesitation Jordan had experienced minutes before sat even heavier on his husband’s shoulders.

“Are you going to be okay coming in today?” he asked, resting a hand on Mike’s shoulder, and squeezing it reassuringly.

“I’ll only be here for a short time. Long enough to introduce myself to the new members of the pitching team, get a training schedule set up for the next couple of days while I familiarise myself with everyone’s current form, and then hold a meeting with the catchers—will speak with the pitchers maybe tomorrow—before heading out to deal with other appointments.” Mike bumped his shoulder against Jordan's and smiled softly at him. “I’m going to return to counselling.”

“Good. That’s really good, Mike.”

“Yeah, I know. I should never have stopped, but…” he waved his hand in the air, the rest of the sentence not needing to be said. Mike had spiraled into a dark headspace where even the counsellor had struggled to pull him out of…maybe hadn’t been the right person to do so. “But things are different now to back then. I’m less angry… and more willing to deal with all the shit that getting injured caused… And not just to me personally.”

“What do you mean by that?” Jordan asked, curious at what Mike was intimating. Hopeful too.

Mike sucked in a deep breath and released. “I think… no, I want us to see a counsellor together…as a couple.” He moved to stand in front of Jordan, hands moving to cup his jaw before pressing their foreheads together. “I want my marriage back… our marriage… and I want it to work…to make it stronger than it was before.”

“I want that too, Mike. I’ve always wanted that.”

*

Standing in the middle of the gym, hands on his hips and sweat dripping down his body, Jordan began to rethink his enthusiasm for having Mike as their coach. Somehow he’d forgotten how ruthless his husband could be when it came to the fitness of the team’s pitchers…the way he stressed the importance of mixed training instead of letting them pitch balls in the bullpen. In fact, since Mike walked into the building and introduced himself to the team, they’d not been allowed anywhere near the bullpen. And there was no guarantees they’d get to pitch tomorrow either if Mike wasn’t happy with the outcome of the meetings he was holding or after reviewing their last three games.

No pitching.

Just the idea of it made Jordan’s skin crawl. It was the only form of practice that he willingly partook in.

But that was the problem.

Mike knew that.

His husband knew the lengths he’d go to avoid anything that didn’t involve pitching a ball… knew all Jordan’s hiding places around the facility too.

And yes, Jordan had already tried this morning. Mike hunting him down when Jordan had disappeared instead of doing the three kilometre run with the rest of the team. He’d then proceeded to give them a lecture on the importance of warming up muscles and improving their stamina in order to ward off injuries. Jordan had groaned silently from his place at the back of the room while Mike talked like he’d swallowed several large physio textbooks. The older members of the team—those who’d experienced this before—merely shook their head and glared half-heartedly at Jordan knowing that he was the reason for Mike’s tirade. But while it had been familiar there’d also been a different edge to it. Mike spoke with more confidence on the subject that had Jordan wondering what else his husband had done during those two years apart. He suspected Mike had done a little more than simply drown his problems in alcohol.

Jordan took a deep breath and glanced about the gym to see who was paying attention to him. There was nothing narcistic about it, far from it. The only time Jordan wanted to be centre of attention was when he stood on the mound during games…every other time, Jordan was happy to be ignored. It, however, was far easier to duck out of a practice he had no interest in when no one was looking your way.

Satisfied that he was being sufficiently ignored by his teammates, Jordan drifted slowly across the room and then slipped out the door. He had no idea where to head to next, all his usual hiding places were of course no longer secret, and the bullpen was off limits because that’s where Mike had chosen to hold this meeting. An usual decision on Mike’s part when there were plenty of conference rooms inside the main building. It could be a desensitising thing, Jordan guessed, Mike exposing himself to a pace that had the potential to cause great anxiety but while having greater control over the situation. Jordan imagined that if Mike’s first step back into the familiar surrounds was during the height of practice, it wouldn’t be as good for his husband’s mental health.

Then again there was always the equipment shed. Not even Mike would consider looking for Jordan there. Jordan’s unwillingness to do alternative forms of practice was only beaten out by his hatred of cleaning the equipment afterward. That’s why the team paid for staff to maintain their equipment… and why it also made a damn good punishment.

Sure enough, there was no one inside the shed when Jordan entered it and carefully closed the door behind him, Surprised him too that neither Mike nor the catchers he was meeting with had notice Jordan cross one end of the bullpen…which meant no one would come looking for him. The only issue Jordan could now see with his otherwise brilliant plan was the bucket of balls that begged to be thrown. Jordan flexed his fingers, not impulsive enough to simply pick one up and start pitching at the wall realising it would alert Mike to his presence. But he couldn’t stop the persistent itch of his hand that demanded to feel leather brush against his palm…his fingers lying over the seams in various positions that would send it hurtling toward the catcher in a semi-predictable way.

He spun around and swept his gaze over the shelves, racks, and bins that filled the shed before it landed on the pitching target net. Grinning, Jordan picked up one of the balls from a bin and threw it up before catching it again…a plan forming in his head that Jordan couldn’t believe would fail.

*****

House of Bolton

Read where it all started. A throwaway idea to launder money through Melbourne's vibrant fashion economy that's now taken on a life of its own.

Who said fashion wasn't a dangerous business?

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