Thank you so much for showing up today to talk with me about my bestselling novel, Blue Moon II, This is Reality.
This is the continuing story of Pierce aka Backhander and ALL of the Beastmasters, including the readers favorite, the very sexy mysterious, Hawk. Who is – if you couldn’t tell - gracing the cover for me. We pick up right where we left off in Blue Moon, Too Good To Be True. Backhander is officially out of retirement and is heading up another task force to take down some of the country’s slipperiest criminals and he’s doing it with one helluva team backing him up. Yes. The Beastmasters.
This story is action-packed. I’m not raining down sunshine or buttering you up in this one. I get right down to the good shit. The Beastmasters are raw and dirty, barreling over all SOBs that get in their way. The introduction of my assassins Omega and Alpha will have your mouths hanging open. I put them in Blue Moon II, instead of giving them their own novel, because the Beastmasters needed some real contenders. Also, those two delicious men, clocked in black from head to toe are especially for my male readers. *winking mischievously*
I won’t rewrite the blurb here, but I will tell you that you will have all your questions answered in the next and final installment of Blue Moon.
Is Hawk going to get Pierce?
Is this Shot and Fox’s story too?
Are the Beastmasters going to go out in a blaze of glory?
Will one of the Beastmaster’s end up with one of the Assassins?
Will Angel, Max, Ryker and Bass make a cameo?
You won’t be disappointed with the answers to those questions!
But there is one question I will answer now. ‘Is the sex just as good in Blue Moon II as it is in the first book?’
Answer: Hell no. IT’S BETTER!
I hope you enjoy it! Don’t forget to drop me a line after you read it.
“Something on your mind, Backhander?” Hawk’s eyes stayed on him, locking him in place.
“Yes. I commanded you to stand down. I wanted those men alive for interrogation. Dead suspects can’t help me,” Pierce said while staring at Hawk’s forehead.
Hawk raised one corner of his sexy mouth and stepped in closer to him. “I follow no one’s commands. My allegiance is to the Beastmasters, not the DEA, not the FBI, not the CIA, and for damn sure, not you.” Hawk accented each statement with a step closer to Pierce. “You’re fooling yourself if you think by running off a few high-ranking smugglers and traffickers that you’re making a difference. When you cut off the snake’s tail, he grows another one.”
After repeatedly backing up from Hawk’s advances, Pierce’s back was up against the side of the eighteen-wheeler. It was just him and Hawk, the dark stillness of the night, and one massive-ass gun at his side. The rifle was over half the length of the man wielding it.
Pierce looked down at the weapon and back up into Hawk’s eyes. “Do you have the safety switched on on that thing?”
Hawk snorted at Pierce’s comment. “Safety? No. Why? Are you afraid of my weapon, Backhander?”
Damn this man has no respect for personal space.
“You need to back the fuck up.” Pierce tried to inject some venom into his voice. Hawk had his entire body pressed up against him, his six-foot four inch height making his shoulder length brownish-blond hair fall down onto Pierce’s face, cocooning him from the cool breeze coming off the mountains of Roanoke, Virginia.
“First, I want to clarify a couple of things, Backhander. This sexy beauty beside me is my weapon, and don’t you worry, it would never be used to harm one hair on that pretty little head of yours. Now this is my gun.” Hawk thrust his cock hard into Pierce’s front, making him grunt at the pain and holy fuck, the pleasure.
“You keep accusing me of ‘liking to get my gun off’, right?” Hawk smiled down on him. He lowered his plush lips to Pierce’s ear and groaned against it.
Pierce closed his eyes. God help me.
“You keep shooting of that sexy mouth of yours Backhander, and I’m going to show you just how I get my motherfuckin’ gun off,” Hawk hissed.
Pierce pushed at Hawk’s much larger frame but of course he didn’t budge – he never did. “Back-off damnit. I told you I’m not interested,” Pierce argued weakly.
“I see differently, beautiful. But that’s okay.” Hawk backed up. “I’ll leave you to it, and watch you come around.”
Hawk made his way to the back of the eighteen-wheeler and hoisted himself and his weapon into the trailer. Pierce tried not to look at Hawk’s ass in the loose army fatigues, or the way his back muscles rippled underneath his army green t-shirt. Pierce didn’t look away fast enough and he knew he’d been caught ogling. Hawk flashed him a shit-eating grin, and winked at Pierce right before he slammed the metal doors.
A.E. Via is still a fairly new author in the beautiful gay erotic genre. Her writing embodies everything from spicy to scandalous. Her stories often include intriguing edges and twists that take readers to new, thought-provoking depths.
When she’s not clicking away at her laptop, she devotes herself to her family—a husband and four children, her two pets, a Maltese dog and her white Siamese cat, ELynn, named after the late, great gay romance author E. Lynn Harris.
While this is only her fifth novel, she has plenty more to come. So stalk her – she loves that - because the male on male action is just heating up!
Go to A.E. Via’s official website for more detailed information on how to contact her, follow her, or a sneak peak on upcoming work, free reads, and where she’ll appear next.