Saturday, 21 June 2014

RELEASE DAY! Silver Strife by J. A. Kenney

BDP is very excited to release Silver Strife, book one of the Immortal Quicksilver series by J. A. Kenney, for sale today. Immerse yourself in this sci-fi/fantasy tale of an immortal alien warrior, the soldier she falls for, and their battle to save the planet from annihilation by a Purist-led government.


Life . . . Death . . . Rebirth

Quicksilver is an ancient immortal warrior. One of a group of alien beings that were once pure energy, living in the void between galaxies, and who have taken mortal form to influence history.

The Purists, compelled by a zealot prophet, are immortal extremists who will use any means at their disposal to wipe out all mortal life. Qui and her Conservationist brethren have spent millions of years fighting for their survival.

In Silver Strife, Quicksilver has been reincarnated on an Earth devastated by centuries of planet-wide civil war. She awakens in the body of a human Elite named Lini: one of a race of superhumans, bred and trained by a Purist-led government to massacre the remnants of humanity. Quicksilver joins the rebel forces, despite their reluctance to trust a hated Elite, determined to take down the brutal dictatorship that has decimated the human race.

From their first meeting, she is drawn to Captain David Mitchell, the rebel officer who aided her escape from the Elite's gilded cage. Even after swearing to never love again when her last mortal lover was killed saving her life, she finds herself falling for the honorable and driven soldier.

When Quicksilver crosses the path of an immortal ally on a top-secret mission behind enemy lines, a decision is forced upon her. She must choose between the fate of the human rebels, her mortal lover, and fulfilling her Conservationist oath to protect all mortal life.


C h a p t e r   O n e


I was alive, in a new mortal shell, a different place, and time. If I had believed in some benevolent supernatural creature that controlled every aspect of reality, I would have thanked it. Instead, I just felt a sort of ambivalent relief.
Time was a true fourth dimension. Ages and epochs made long sweeping circles across the void, and immortals traveled between those rings like icebreakers smashing through a frozen sea. So we died just like everyone else, a truth that I thought a glaring irony. However, we came back, born again into new flesh, and in this new vessel, I could forge ahead in the eons long war against the Purists—a war that raged across the whole of space and time.
For years, I caught only brief glimpses of this life: a stern woman’s face looking down at me as I lay in a clear plastic bassinet, the pain of a broken wrist, and the unpleasant jab of tanbark against my spine. Born into this body, my spirit slept in a small corner of its mind. United and yet separate until the physical form was ready, for a child’s mind simply could not process eternity.
My thoughts snapped into place, and I inherited, in excruciating detail, the memories of a lifetime lived. No immortal knew what happened when our minds achieved synergy, but it felt like my soul suddenly clicked into alignment with this body’s neurons. The process was abrupt and shocking even after untold permutations, like a memory dump from a massive supercomputer. Twenty years of daily events, knowledge, and struggles were mine in a split second. I knew who I was, where I was, and what I was. A place, time, and identity that could not have been less to my liking.
My vision cleared. I stood in a well-lit hall lined with thick metal plates and reinforced doors. A calm yet commanding voice played in the background—a subtle reminder to cultivate unity and serve the greater purpose. “Preserve strength. Embody perfection. Maintain obedience.”
My eyes discreetly explored the lines and curves of my body. It was petite and feminine, with sufficient curves to avoid being boyish but a distinct lack of height. The skin on my delicate long-fingered hands was a dark caramel, the nails neatly manicured, and I ran one of them through straight waist-length black hair to feel its smooth silky thickness.
Surrounding me were a plethora of other young people, all of them disturbingly alike. They all had dark hair, dark eyes, and honey-toned skin, complemented by bodies that were young, attractive, and fit. These were the Union Elite. All dressed in uniforms of white button-down shirts, black slacks or skirts, and shiny polished black shoes. They looked like bronzes cast from the same mold, and the effect was eerie, like being surrounded by dozens of identical twins all filing in an unnatural orderly fashion to their next classes. This compound was built to house and educate society’s so-called best and brightest, but the hall and building surrounding it were armored for a reason.
I knew, from this and previous lives, that there was danger here, and not just to the students’ minds from blatant indoctrination. Their Civil War was a constant threat, often bleeding over into these remaining pockets of civilization. The year was three hundred and fifty-six in the Plebeian calendar, and this was the planet Earth.
The Elites’ university was situated on the semi-arid high plains that I remembered as the United States of America. Now this area of windblown and sun-scorched earth was called the North Western Sector. When the new era was founded centuries ago, the people of the world had experienced a brief period of renewed hope. The world had been united, all people were equal, and they would work together to build a better future for humankind. The newly christened Elites would be benevolent and altruistic leaders.
The naïveté of those people and their dream of endless peace had not lasted a decade. Instead, the world had been plunged into a centuries-long Civil War, and was ruled over by a cruel and selfish caste of super humans who viewed the rest of humanity as base, dangerous, animals. All at the whim and design of a single Purist, another immortal, who had twisted those noble dreams to his purpose. Yet, those events were now distant history, and I had to live in the here and now.
A bell chimed, and the students disappeared into their bunker-like classrooms. I stood frozen in place as they passed me by, still caught in the shock of a new and different existence. A number of confused glances were thrown my way.
“Lini. Is something wrong?” A soft touch to my arm preceded the serious expression that drifted into view. The voice and face were familiar. One of the many Elites who was genetically this body’s first cousin. She motioned me toward one of the open doors.
“No, nothing is wrong, Saran. I apologize for my inattention.” I forced myself into motion and trailed after the line of students filing into their next lecture.
The room was stark, white cinderblock walls with a half-dozen small wooden desks facing a larger desk and chalkboard. The lack of windows managed to give it an even more depressing penal feel. I plopped into an open seat, dropped my light backpack on the floor, and turned to face the instructor.
“Today, we will be discussing the foundation of the Union,” said Charles, the history professor. He leaned against his large wooden desk in a casual pose that portrayed both confidence and arrogance in spades. Dark hair and eyes, sharp cheekbones, and a toned body, a model specimen of the Union’s breeding program. In a vain attempt to delay a long afternoon of monotony and conveniently edited events, I sighed, and put my hand up.
Charles ignored me.
“Before the founding of the Union, the world was littered with separate countries. These small powers drove a nearly constant state of warfare, resulting in widespread poverty, and humanitarian abuses. Today, I want us to discuss how these governmental, cultural, social, and economic entities were motivated by greed, racism, and false prophets to enforce their individual wills on all peoples. Saran, if you could read the excerpt on page 325, the third paragraph concerning Manifest Destiny.”
History, or the self-serving fiction of a victorious reactionary authoritarian regime.
The Union had started out as a tempting illusion dangled before the people of Earth by a Purist, but it quickly turned into the malignant nightmare he intended. Millions died in the ethnic cleansing Petrov instituted, and even more in the unsuccessful wars to overthrow him. Hundreds of years later, a small group ruled from on high by virtue of the “superiority” of their birth and technological advancement had ground to a screeching halt. Meanwhile, the rest of humanity was withering under the weight of its own impotence.
The distinct crack of submachine gun fire yanked me back into the present. My senses instantly alert to the slightest movement. Another shot rang out, and men’s shouts laced with pain came from the direction of the building’s entrance. The unexpected sounds faded into a misleading tranquility.
“Raid,” I whispered to shatter the pregnant silence.

Buy Links

You can buy Silver Strife for US$5.99 at the following online booksellers:

Coming soon to Barnes & Noble, Apple iBooks, Google Play,
 Coffee Time Romance, Scrib'd, Oyster, and Flipkart

*Silver Strife has also been released in paperback format and will be available to purchase soon*

Friday, 13 June 2014

Cover Reveal - Stealing Serenity

Bottom Drawer Publications is very happy to reveal the brand spanking new cover for Stealing Serenity by Tami Veldura.

Book Details: Novella
Genre: Romantic MM Suspense

Author: Tami Veldura


"Serenity," a photograph worth four million dollars, was sold at auction to an anonymous bidder, and stealing it will represent the largest payday Daniel will have ever  had. To make that happen, he poses as a photography curator to attract the attention of Kearin, the auction house owner.

Kearin takes Daniel under his wing to work in the non-profit branch of his business, but it's a cover for his desire to see Daniel naked, bound, and needy for his camera. Kearin has a client interested in a very specific portfolio - filling the reqest would put him at the top of his field. 

Daniel thinks he can use the modeling to get closer to "Serenity." What he doesn't expect is to fall for Kearin's brand of intensity instead. So does he go for the photograph or Kearin's heart? He wouldn't call himself a master thief if he couldn't steal both.

Mark it to read at Goodreads
Mark to read and enter the Giveaway at BookLikes

Saturday, 7 June 2014

Book Release! F*ck Normal

Bottom Drawer Publications is excited to release Mickey J. Corrigan's latest novella:


What happens when you marry a serious intellectual with a rich fantasy life to a perfectionistic overachiever with a hot body? Sometimes you get discord and separation. Other times, you get Goodreads, too many bottles of Haut-Brion, a luxe swingers club, and Lexus sex.

Barton and Katelyn Fiske are a normal couple with some all-too-normal marital issues. The Fiskes have two small children, an underwater mortgage, and too many bills to pay. He works hard, she spends harder. They haven't had sex in months, and Barton is sleeping in the den of their colonial-style home in Downwind Beach, Florida. The Fiskes attend couples’ counseling, but it isn’t helping. They're on the verge of breaking up their ten-year marriage.

Katelyn wants her husband to stop fantasizing about a woman from his past. Barton wants his wife to stop prying into his private thoughts. And Dr. Colony, their high-end Palm Beach therapist, wants husband and wife to practice her mutualization exercises so that they can enjoy a normal relationship.

Fuck normal, Barton thinks. Little does he know, his wife is thinking the same thing.


Chapter One

Separation Ahead

On the day his marriage broke up, Bart Fiske was angry and horny, a dangerous mix. He drove his wife’s Lexus LX too fast, careening north on I-95 to Palm Beach, where their therapist had a practice geared toward millionaires with marital discord. And wannabe millionaires on the verge of a breakup, like the once happily married Fiskes.

The sky was overcast, the road slick. He jumped a lane, then sped past a surfer dude in a downbeat Honda Civic who honked and flashed him the finger. Bart was in no mood for road rage. His blood simmered throughout his tense body for more serious reasons. His emotions were, he thought, appropriate and accurately directed.

Bart hadn’t had sex with his wife in eleven months. This was not normal.

The Fiskes had fallen for one another when they were in college, and had weathered the rough ride of dating, engagement, marriage, and children. They had been wildly in love, and their sex life had reflected their passion for one another. But all that had changed. Suddenly, horribly, Bart’s wife didn’t want him anymore.

At first he’d been scared, then depressed, and finally, pissed off. Katelyn wouldn’t budge though. And even though they attended couples’ therapy every week, there had been no positive results. Bart had begun to wonder whether all the discussion about their problems was actually making everything worse. It certainly wasn’t making his mood (or his sex life) any better.

The morning’s events were a perfect example of how fucked up things were these days. After Bart dropped the kids at school, he’d returned home to pick up Katelyn for their ten-thirty with Dr. Colony. His BMW was in the shop, and they were sharing the SUV, which he parked out front. Their house, a pillared colonial with lush green lawns, looked like a real estate commercial. Katelyn’s taste was impeccable. Postcard perfect. Which didn’t come cheap.

When he walked in the front door, she was still in the shower. They’d chatted a bit this morning over cold cereal, bagels, and coffee. She’d been warm, her movements around the kitchen full of that confident energy he’d always loved. Maybe she was up for a therapeutic orgasm. Then they could talk about that in therapy, instead of why she was so unhappy with him.

He checked his watch: plenty of time for a quickie. He ran up the stairs two at a time, simultaneously shedding his suit jacket and loosening his tie. In the doorway to the master bedroom, a thickly carpeted twenty-by-twenty with three floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the backyard pool, Bart stripped off his shirt and pants. He’d be a wrinkled mess today at work, but so what? He was sex starved. Priorities, right? He needed his lovely wife’s lovely body. He needed her to need him inside her. That’s how things had once been for them, and it had worked so well between them. Love and intimacy, friendship and sex. Wasn’t that what marriage was all about?

He set his black-framed glasses on the night table beside the king-size bed. As he patted his hair into place and smoothed his beard, the shower stopped. Katelyn opened the bathroom door enough to let out a gust of vanilla-oatmeal scented steam.

Sweat dripped down Bart’s bare chest, and his erection stiffened even more. When he held her, his wife would be hot and wet, her smooth skin so damp he would slide right off as he mounted her. They would laugh, kiss some more, and he would slip inside her with a gentle, delicious . . .

How strange. She was humming a little song in what sounded like Spanish. But her voice was so bright and sunny that his erection throbbed. Bart hadn’t heard Katelyn sing in ages. These days, he could hardly get his wife to smile. But right now, she was obviously in a lighthearted mood.

Heart pounding like an anvil against his prominent ribs, Bart stood there, naked, turned on, ready for her. His wife. He waited for the woman he’d married to come to him and take him in her perfectly toned arms.

The door opened wider and Marianna, their cleaning lady, called out, “Iz you, Mr. Fiske? I clean the shower. Mrs. Fiske, she tell me to tell you she meet you there. Ten thirty. An’ don’ be late.”



The e-book has been exclusively released at Amazon for 90 days for $1.99


1st Prize: $10 BDP Voucher

2nd Prize: 3 copies of  F*ck Normal e-book

Thursday, 5 June 2014

Celebrating Pride 2014

At BDP one our main tenets is that "love is love" and one day hope to have every catalog genre filled with both LGBT and het books.

To celebrate Pride Month we have cut the price of our top-selling mm novel, The Truth about Riley, from $5.99 to $3.99 for the entire month of June as our "Book of the Month".


Riley Aylworth’s life has been completely devoid of intimate contact since a fire three years ago left him with horrific facial scarring, so when he finds an ad for a phone sex service, he decides to give it a call. Except that the number is not a phone sex service—it’s the revenge Cameron Kirkwood’s ex-boyfriend took on the uptight advertising executive after Cam forgot their anniversary and accidentally put him in the hospital. Needless to say, after thirty-nine disturbing calls seeking phone sex, Cameron is at the end of his tether and yells at his fortieth caller. What he doesn’t expect is for Riley to hit redial and yell right back.

The argument helps both Cameron and Riley vent about their issues, and when they’ve calmed down, they decide to exchange numbers and talk again. From this decision springs a friendship that, over time, grows into a gentle romance—all over the phone, because Riley is too scared to meet Cam in person. Showing a potential boyfriend his disfigured face is the fastest way to get rejected, right? Even a month of scorching hot phone sex can’t change his mind, no matter how hard Cam tries to persuade him that with their phone chemistry, the sex would be so much better in person.

Meanwhile, Cam is haunted by the scarred blond he seems to be seeing everywhere, and Riley can’t get the handsome brunet who always seems happy to see him out of his mind. It’s a shock to both men to realise that the guy they’re falling for over the phone is also the man who brightens their day with just a smile; but it’s one thing to let a stranger smile at you and quite another to let him close enough to see into your soul. If Riley can’t break down the walls in his mind and believe that Cameron loves him in spite of his scars, their relationship may be doomed before they’ve even had a chance to kiss.

Also, check out some of our other LGBT books