QSFer Liv Rancourt has a new MM historical paranormal romance out: Dollface.
Charlie’s father deserted the family when he was five years old, so when his sister’s husband is killed in the war, he steps in so his niece won’t grow up without a man to rely on. That his sister’s husband was his best friend – and only love – makes his grief just as great as hers.
Some three years after her father’s death, his niece receives a doll in the mail. The package says it was sent by her father, and with that, strange things start happening. Spooky things. Dangerous things.
Merle’s a psychic who has a vision about a man in trouble. That man is Charlie, who at first declines Merle’s offer to help. Charlie doesn’t understand magic, but he does recognize danger, so when things get more bizarre, he turns to Merle. They have to find out who sent an evil doll to a little girl.
First, though, they must trust each other, and acknowledge that their deep seated attraction is real.
Merle spread his fingers over the keys, picking out a melody Charlie didn’t quite recognize. “Sorry,” Merle said, his voice low. “You wanted—”
“You’re the pianist from the Monteleone.” Butch joined them at the piano. “I knew I recognized you.”
Butch planted a hand on Charlie’s shoulder, leaning against him and not quite rutting. “I admit I did wonder why you’re not off fighting somewhere, but I guess now I know why.”
Charlie dug his elbow into Butch’s thigh. “Bug off if you can’t be nice.”
“I am nice.” Butch shook Charlie’s shoulder and dropped his other hand on Merle’s. “You’ll find I can be very nice indeed.”
“Lordy.” Charlie laughed. A sideline glance at Merle showed him the man had his gaze on the piano keys, his smile spreading slow and warm.
Dolly interrupted them, bringing Merle a tumbler of scotch. To Charlie’s relief, he demanded Butch help him in the dining room. Relief was followed by surprise, because he shouldn’t care what Butch did. But he did. He wanted Merle all to himself, for now at least.
Despite his fainting spell.
“Butch is really a nice fellow. He just thinks like an engineer.” Charlie kept his voice low and was gratified when Merle moved closer. Every man there wanted to be in Charlie’s place right now, and he wasn’t giving it up to any of them.
“I should apologize.” Merle played a series of chords, the opening to Gershwin’s The Man I Love.
“Why?” Charlie watched his hands move, entranced by the strength and agility in his fingers.
“Hmm… because you asked me to tell your future and I dropped like a dead man.”
“I did worry that you’d been shot.” Charlie grinned. “But pansies like us rarely carry guns. Besides, I don’t suppose you get much warning when a fit like that is coming on.”
“You can say that again.” Merle’s smile grew rueful. “I would like to tell your future, though, but later, when there aren’t so many fellows around.”
Charlie met his gaze and for a moment, they just stared at each other. It was a loaded stare, full of questions asked and answered, the beautiful melody providing a perfect backdrop.
Dolly interrupted them again, but this time it was a call for dinner. They both looked away, and Charlie was darned sure his cheeks were burning. He fully intended to stick to Merle like a shadow until they settled this thing between them.
Liv Rancourt is a multi-published author of gay and m/m romance. Because love is love, even with fangs.
Liv is a huge fan of paranormal romance and urban fantasy and loves history just as much, so her stories often feature vampires or magic or they’re set in the past…or all of the above. She also co-authors two m/m paranormal romance series with Irene Preston. Their partnership works because Liv is good at blowing things up and Irene is good at explaining why.
When Liv isn’t writing she takes care of tiny premature babies in the NICU. Her husband is a soul of patience, her kids are her pride and joy, and her dog Burnsie is endlessly entertaining.