We're Bonnie Dee and Summer Devon and we write books together

Summer Devon and Bonnie Dee have co-written over a dozen books. Their historical novels often feature cross class romances which give the protagonists even greater hurtles to overcome than being gay men in dangerous times. Summer is the alter ego of author, Kate Rothwell, who writes gaslight historicals. Bonnie is interested in flawed, often damaged, people who find happiness together. These writers met by chance online and have had a fabulous time passing stories back and forth, creating characters and situations in what might be the world's longest party game.

Wednesday, October 12, 2016

So Many Audiobooks!!

FROM BONNIE!
Summer and I just got the news, our Victorian Holiday Hearts are now in audio format. This includes Simon and the Christmas Spirit, Will and the Valentine Saint and Mike and the Spring Awakening, but NOT Delaney and the Autumn Masque which was released too recently to be included.
Here are the links to each book:
Simon and the Christmas Spirit
http://www.audible.com/pd?asin=B01M8G65VL&source_code=AUDORWS0930169IEL

And there are more





Monday, October 3, 2016

Happy New Book Birthday to us!!

Out today: our latest Victorian Holiday Hearts book

 Delaney and the Autumn Masque

A spicy harvest treat from Devon and Dee. 

Delaney, former pickpocket and now a member of the Andrews theater clan, performs magic tricks as Billbo the Magnificent. Hired to entertain at a fancy dress ball, the magician is struck by the lurking, dramatic figure of the Grim Reaper. He follows Death to a quiet room for a glorious, lustful encounter.

With his identity hidden, impoverished gentleman Bartholomew Bancroft dares to indulge in an out-of-character moment to quench his forbidden yearning for another man’s touch. But in the light of day, he can’t dismiss his memories of the mysterious magician or a craving to see him again.

Bartholomew enlists the dexterous conjurer to teach him to pick pockets. His plan: to retrieve his hand-crafted jewelry taken by a vengeful ex-lover. During the lessons, Bartholomew and Delaney yield to desire, certain their affair will last only until they retrieve Bartholomew’s stolen work. 

At another costume ball, the gentleman and the magician work together to foil the thief, but when all masks are abandoned at last, can lasting love remain?

* * * * 

It's for sale in all the usual locations. 
Amazon: http://a.co/fZdveHA
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view...
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebo...
All Romance Ebooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/prod...
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/delan...



Victorian Holiday Hearts 

Four seasons, four novellas about one theatrical family.
They were the source of entertainment in a world without movies or television. Magic, singing and dancing, acting—the adopted and biological sons the Andrews family could do it all. And in the warmth of their eccentric and large family circle, they could be anyone they wanted or love whomever they wished. In a world where men loving men was a crime, the Andrews and their friends had their own support for true love.
The stories
Simon and the Christmas Spirit https://amzn.com/B017QUW2ES
Will and the Valentine Saint https://amzn.com/B01A5OAAOQ
Mike and the Spring Awakening  https://amzn.com/B01C6BULU4
Delaney and the Autumn Masque https://amzn.com/B01KY0UXEI

Friday, September 30, 2016

A new audiobook! Celebrate with us.

We have a new book out -- okay not really a new book, but most definitely a new format. It's an audio version of The Nobleman and the Spy.

Want to have a listen? Click on the three minute sample at the link. 

I think Todd Scott did a good job!

Here's the part where we celebrate:

We have some Audible.com coupons--win a copy of our book FREE from Audible. 


How can you win? With our brand-new, fabulous, limited-time offer a Rafflecopter giveaway

Wait!  would you rather have an ebook version of the story? NO PROBLEM! We can do both! Either! If you win, you'll have to let us know.

Monday, March 7, 2016

The Third Book of the Holiday Hearts series is out today!

Mike and the Spring Awakening

A bitter sweet from Dee/Devon  

Young Micah “Mike” Cordett’s privileged life explodes when he is caught naked with a schoolmate. Running away from disgrace, he blunders into a trap in a seamy part of London and endures months of abuse before escaping. But with the help of the Andrews family, he’s begun to climb out of his fear. Yet, when a reminder of his happier past erupts into his life in the form of Lucas Spring, Mike’s not certain he’s ready to face the remnants of the charmed life he’d once enjoyed. He’s certainly not ready for love.

Lucas Spring pined for Mike from afar when they were in school. This shadow of the confident boy he once knew shocks him, and Lucas vows to do anything he can to help restore the person he’d so admired. With patience and determination, he hopes to ease Mike’s fears and perhaps even win his love.
But when a violent figure from Mike’s past looms into his present, will the tender shoots of a new beginning might be crushed...

Here's an excerpt

BDEE&sDevon-MIKEandtheSA-300x450Lucas wiped his hands on the plain wood of a flower leaf and rose to his feet. Mike, still crouched, looked up at him, and the sudden flash of fear in his eyes made Lucas back away. “I’m just taking off my jacket,” he explained. “And my waistcoat too, I think.”
Mike put down his brush and stood. “A good notion.” He went to Lucas. “Allow me to help­­­­­­ you? My fingers are still clean.” He eased Lucas’s jacket from his shoulders and then moved to his front to unbutton his waistcoat.
Lucas tried not to notice how close they were to each other or the way Mike’s chest quickly rose and fell as he worked the buttons. He was used to his valet performing these tasks, Lucas reminded himself.
“Mike.” He whispered the word.
“Hmm.” Mike’s fingers trembled. He slid the waistcoat off too, his fingers grazing Lucas’s arm, and Lucas swore he could feel that touch, even through the linen of his shirt.
He would try for a jovial tone, something light, though his heart pounded and his breath skittered. “You’re very good at this.”
“I help the actors dress and undress. During performances,” Mike said. His voice sounded husky. He deposited the coat and waistcoat on a tree stump next to the gate out to the stage entrance.
He returned to his flower again, without a word, dropping to a crouch and picking up his paintbrush.
“Does it bother you? To undress the actors?” Lucas said.
Mike seemed to watch his hands do the methodical dip and stroke, dip and stroke, as if it were someone else controlling the movements. “Usually, no. I don’t mind doing the work at all. But you’re different. When I’m near you, I feel a touch of fear.”
Lucas’s stomach turned over. He wished he’d taken off his own damned jacket.
“But there’s also something else.”
“Never mind the fear. That second bit of something else sounds good,” Lucas began, but he stopped. Mike’s shoulders were shaking. Damnation. “Mike?”
“It was gone, taken away from me, and now it’s coming back.” A tear dripped down his nose. Lucas wanted nothing more than to go to him and pull him close, but he knew better.
“Heavens, I do hope the ‘it’ you speak of means attraction,” Lucas drawled. “Forgive me if I’m presumptuous.”
Mike sniffed and wiped his nose on his shirt sleeve like a young boy. He twisted and looked at Lucas. His eyes were damp, but his mouth was twisted into a wry grin. “You’re doing it once more, forcing me to feel amused when I’m miserable.”
“That’s good, yes?”
“I hope so. God, I hope I’m wrong. I don’t want to hate physical contact, Lucas, but I’m afraid I will for years.”
Lucas’s vision went hazy and red as anger filled him. He wanted to kill whoever had done this to Mike. At the very least, he wanted to howl with rage. But Mike had said the Andrews’s chatter soothed him, and the stiff upper lip was their heritage. Lucas would give him both and hope it helped. He picked up the yellow brush and got back to work.
“Talk is all very well, but there is only one way to find out, you know, and that’s to try touching a person you might possibly find appealing. That person should know he must not respond badly—or perhaps not respond at all. That’s entirely your choice.” He spoke briskly. “And if anything about your own touch or his presence alarms you, then you stop. And try again whenever you choose.”
Lucas put down the yellow brush and picked up the red to fill in the center of the cheerful flower. A daisy, perhaps. “It should not be a great surprise to know that once again I volunteer myself to you. Outside or inside, in private, clothed, naked, I’ll do whatever you wish, whenever you wish it. Send word at two in the morning, and I’ll drag myself to the spot immediately.”
He found a rag this time to wipe his hands. He couldn’t hold back the rest of it. “I know you don’t wish to speak of this, but do you think it would help you to find whoever did this to you and have him put in jail?” Or have him killed, he silently added.
Mike started painting the tuft of grass, his movements still methodical. “No need.”
“Did you…?”
“No. Someone else set the building ablaze, and five people died, including…those who held me against my will. This happened after I left, or I’d be ashes and bone in the attic as well.”
“Good Lord,” Lucas said. He didn’t know what else he could add. Mike was silent too, so they continued their work.
Mike shuffled his feet, then leaned backwards so his back pressed to Lucas’s. Spine to spine, they rested. Lucas tried to remain completely still—not to draw deep breaths—so he could feel Mike’s every move. For ten heartbeats, Mike’s weight rested against Lucas from shoulder to lower back, only their shirts between them.
“Thank you,” Mike said at last and leaned forward, taking all that interesting heat with him.
“I did say any time,” Lucas said, and dabbed at the last green leaf.
They cleaned the brushes with linseed oil and rags. “I’ll have to do at least three more layers,” Mike said. “Someone thinned the paint to make it go as far as it could. Now it’s far more work.”
“If I offered to buy better paint?”
Mike shook his head. “That’s another problem, I’m sorry to say. I hate to be beholden to anyone for anything.”
“I recall that about you. From school, I mean.”
“Really? I thought that came from…” He waved a hand. Unfortunately, it held a paintbrush, and a drop of green landed on Lucas’s shoe.
“Damn.” Mike dropped to a squat with a cloth in his hand and scrubbed at Lucas’s shoe.
“Please don’t,” Lucas said, alarmed. “Get up, do!”
Mike tilted his head to look up at him, puzzled. “What’s wrong?”
He thought of an answer at once. “Kneeling at my feet made you seem to, um, cower. Before. Remember? I’d supposed it would engender fear, and I don’t like it.”
Mike’s face was directly in front of his private parts, which woke up to this fact. Lucas closed his eyes and tried to recall Hubert Dunfry’s smirk. Anything but thinking of Mike so close to him.
“I’m the one who is supposed to be afraid, not you.” Mike’s voice held laughter, not scorn.
Thoroughly relieved, Lucas opened his eyes and reached a hand to him. “I’m allowed to be afraid for my friends if I want to be, you wretch. Allow me to help you rise to your feet.”
Instead of standing, Mike sat back on his heels and smiled up at him. “Thank you for worrying for me. I think it helps me relax a little to have you so high strung.”
“Then I should roll my eyes and show my teeth like an ill-mannered horse.” He attempted that expression and was rewarded with another laugh from Mike, who still stayed on the cobblestones, no longer inches from Lucas’s prick, but not far away either.
Mike’s gaze dropped from Lucas’s face. His attention had to be directed at Lucas’s torso. Seconds passed. Lucas stood still, once again imitating a statue. And close to him knelt Mike Cordett, the object of his lust and longing for years.
He shut his eyes again, but it wasn’t much use. His statue imitation wasn’t entirely accurate, and he only prayed his clothing disguised his arousal.
“I say, I’m rather surprised that I am able to be this close to you,” Mike said. “I wonder if all that maundering on and fretful talk of mine helped me, because here I am, at a man’s feet, and I don’t feel anything but…” Something touched Lucas’s leg, the merest brush through his trousers—Mike’s fingers.
Lucas swallowed and managed a bright cheerful tone. “What do you feel?”
“Your leg, of course.” His fingers moved down. “And now your knee.” And then his hand moved up, but he stopped short of the swelling bulge in Lucas’s trousers.
“Please,” Lucas said and hoped Mike would take it as an invitation to do whatever he wanted, and not as begging on Lucas’s part.
“Thank you.” Mike rose to his feet and brushed his knees, leaving a smudge of green paint on the blue wool fabric. He seemed less amused now, but Lucas considered the small experiment a success. He wondered if he should say as much when Mike said, “We’d best clean up and put these flowers somewhere safe to dry. Just against the building will do.”
They straightened the yard. Lucas folded the tarp and wondered if he could steal it, bring it home to remind himself of the small tentative touches Mike had given him.
After they put away the paints and brushes—and the tarp—Lucas said, “You’ve done all this work for us. I feel as if I owe you a meal.”
Lucas wanted to protest that he had so much money he must pay for the meal again. The urge to take care of Mike seemed to overrule everything. But one look at Mike told him that would be a mistake, so he only said, “Will we risk the purple ladies again?”
“If you like. Or we could go to a public house. Do you have time?”
“Yes, of course.”
Lucas realized he would make time any time Mike asked him to. When he’d gone searching for Micah Cordett, he’d hoped to lay his boyhood infatuation to rest at last. Instead, he feared he’d awakened a sleeping dragon, bringing to life even stronger and more mature feelings that threatened to consume him in their fiery breath. But these flames he was willing to endure if there was even the slightest hope that Mike felt the stirring embers of a fire too.

Monday, January 25, 2016

Happy New Book to Us!

Another new release. That's two from us this month!

(Did you pick up your copy of The Professor and the Smuggler?)

This is the second novella set in the world of the theater (or, as they'd spell it, theatre) family. Our first was Simon and the Christmas Spirit.
 
Will and the Valentine Saint is also a stand-alone story with a happily ever after. When we pick up a novella, we want to enjoy a beginning, middle, and end--so of course that's what we'll always offer our readers

A Valentine bonbon from Devon/Dee.

A Valentine bonbon from Devon/Dee, book two in the Victorian Holiday Hearts series.


Will Andrews wishes to escape the madness of his bohemian family. He dreams of an orderly, quiet life. Hiding his eccentric theater background with false recommendation letters, he interviews for a position at a legal aid society. The last thing he expects is to feel something more potent than respect for his genteel employer, Hugh St. John.

When Hugh needs a secretary, one magnetic candidate has a draw he can’t resist. Will Andrews shares his vision for the Society and is also the most attractive man he’s ever met. But Hugh has never even kissed a man and certainly wouldn’t throw himself at an employee.

As the pair plans a Valentine charity dinner, they grow ever closer to surrendering to their delicious desire. But when Will’s hidden background is revealed, can Hugh forgive his lies and omissions and trust him again?


The story is available now!
Amazon, B&N, Kobo, ITunes, All Romance or Smashwords.

Saturday, January 2, 2016

Professor and Smuggler now available!

Happy new year!

Celebrate with our new title, The Professor and the Smuggler, a gay romance set in 1905. 

We hope you had as much fun reading it as we did researching the Cornish coast and ancient automobiles.

And the heroes are darling, though we do say so ourselves.

A grumpy smuggler meets a bumbling professor and treasure is found.

An explorer at heart, former university professor Phillip Singleton’s adventures have only taken place in his imagination—until recently. Exploring the Cornish coast to research a travel book, he encounters a living example of a pirate archetype. Dark-haired, black-bearded Carne Treleaven might have been hewn from the very rock his name describes, and Phillip is eager to discover more.

Carne has little patience for the awkward, dreamy professor, an outsider who must be steered away from local secrets. He agrees to serve as a guide to seaside caves where smugglers once operated only to keep Phillip away from more recent activity.

As personalities clash, secrets unfold, and riches are revealed, the two polar opposites find the point where their similarities lay. Carne’s old beliefs are shattered by his attraction to a man and he must decide if he’s willing to take a huge step outside his familiar life and into a brand new world.

***

"I’m not going to bother beating around the bush. I adored this book, just adored it. Every single thing about it, and can say that The Professor and the Smuggler is easily my favorite of this writing duos many books. What makes this one such a wonderful read? In a couple of words: the characters."
--Novel Approach



BUY IT
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at All Romance Ebooks
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