Thursday, February 7, 2019

Author Of The Month - Geoffrey Knight - Week One



Welcome to our first week of celebrations for the amazing 





For our first week, we're exploring Geoffrey's romantic comedies, with The Billionaire's Boyfriend, The Billionaire's Wedding, and The Billionaire's Wish. We'll also find out about Geoffrey's favorite things, and one lucky winner will get a copy of The Billionaire's Boyfriend.


Let's get started...


First up, The Billionaire's Boyfriend 



Blurb:

Matthew Darcy is a romance writer in a rut. He’s been stuck on Chapter One of his new book for as long as he can remember, and so has his love life. But when his on-the-side job as a flower delivery guy puts him in the right place at the right time to save the life of billionaire banker Calvin Croft, Matt’s life takes an unexpected detour toward romance.

With billions to his name, Cal Croft has everything… except someone to love. But is Cal’s paparazzi-pursued life something that Matt is willing to take a chance on? Can a struggling romance writer who delivers flowers have anything in common with a handsome billionaire with his own Lear jet? And could the secret that Cal’s keeping tear these two lovers apart—just when their romance begins to blossom?




Excerpt:

My name is Matt Darcy. At the time of the garbage truck incident I was a thirty-two-year-old writer who paid the bills by delivering flowers for my neighbor and local florist shop owner Mrs. Mulroney. We lived in the same building together, a narrow apartment block in Hell’s Kitchen, with Mrs. Mulroney’s Little Flower Shop on the ground floor and four cozy old apartments above it, all connected by the same rattling pipes and inconsistent water pressure.
Mrs. Mulroney and I lived in the apartments on the second floor.
Directly above me lived twelve-year-old Tilly and her constantly working single mom, while directly above Mrs. Mulroney lived the elderly yet spirited Mr. Banks.
Together, me, Tilly, Mrs. Mulroney and Mr. Banks made up something of an odd family, four rather offbeat souls thrust together by a universe who seemingly thought it was either a clever idea or a thigh-slapping joke to put such disparate individuals under the one leaky roof.
Tilly had the brains and personality of a pragmatic and precocious college student… trapped in the body of a twelve-year-old girl with braces on her teeth and butterfly bobby pins in her hair. She believed in unicorns, the quantum mechanics of time travel and peace in Syria, not necessarily in that order. She read Time Magazine, quoted Nietzsche, and listed her heroes as Joan of Arc, Charles Darwin and Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau because he was, in her words, ‘a total dreamboat’. I happened to agree. The fact that her mom worked three jobs just to make ends meet meant that Tilly spent most of her free time clambering down the fire escape that connected her apartment to mine just to share her views on politics, pop culture or the plight of the pandas in Pittsburgh Zoo.
“They’re not really pandas, you see. Red pandas aren’t really bears at all, but they’re not really raccoons either. They’re undergoing a real crisis of identity… kinda like you.”
“Me? Crisis of identity? What do you mean?”
“Well, you think you’re gay, but you haven’t had a boyfriend for as long as I’ve known you. Unless you’re out there busy kissing boys or finding a husband, how do you know you’re really gay at all?”
“I don’t have to have a boyfriend or a husband to know I’m gay.”
“But you’d like one, right?”
“Yes. Maybe. Sure, I guess.”
“But you don’t really know.”
I shrugged. “I don’t even know if I’m husband material.”
“Like I said, a crisis of identity.”
I gave her a stink eye. “I think I hear your mother calling you.”
“She’s at work.”
“She has a very loud voice.”
Tilly was always good at taking a hint.
At least Tilly’s musings made some sort of sense.
Mr. Banks, on the other hand, made no sense at all. You never knew what he was going to say next… or where he might show up. Yes, Mr. Banks—an elderly British expat with a rather overactive imagination—was very good at finding his way into other people’s apartments and appearing in the most bizarre nooks and corners. Once I found him in my laundry looking for Dead Sea Scrolls, having hidden them there from the Nazis. Another time I discovered him in my closet with my underwear on his head; he told me my bicycle helmet didn’t seem quite up to current safety standards. Then there was the time I found him under my dining table with a Bible and a pregnancy test kit, insisting he was ‘this close’ to cracking the Da Vinci Code. He was a sweet and harmless old man who never argued or raised his voice when he was gently guided back to his own apartment. But nobody really knew how Mr. Banks managed to break into other people’s places with such apparent ease. Tilly was certain he had once been a British spy who could jimmy any lock open. Unfortunately, there was no point asking Mr. Banks if this was true. Every time we asked him what he had done for a living, the response was always different—bee keeper, criminal lawyer, used car salesman, brain surgeon, deep sea diver, pastry chef, mortician, janitor, astronaut. No two answers were ever the same.
Then there was Mrs. Mulroney, a headstrong Irishwoman with a love of flower arranging and whisky drinking. By her own admission, Mrs. Mulroney was somewhere on the slippery downward slope of her sixties and did her best work while ‘topped up on the turps’ as she liked to put it. She had once been married to a man in Dublin who had treated her poorly, until the day he fell down a flight of stairs and never got up again. Whether or not Mrs. Mulroney pushed him was anyone’s guess, but being the good Catholic that she was, the strong-willed Irishwoman had always claimed that Jesus was simply looking after her.
“The Lord moves in mysterious ways,” she had once said after one too many nips from her hipflask. “Sometimes he nudges you gently down the path of righteousness… other times he’ll give you a good hard shove down the stairs.”
The moral of the story is never treat an Irishwoman badly and think you’ll get away with it. God is always watching.



Get the book:




Secondly, The Billionaire's Wedding



Blurb:

Italy’s Amalfi Coast, overlooking the sparkling Mediterranean Sea, is the dream location for the perfect wedding, and billionaire Calvin Croft is determined to pull out all the stops to make his marriage to Matt Darcy a day that nobody will forget.

But before Matt and Cal can walk down the aisle and say ‘I do’, someone uninvited turns up out of the blue… and turns Cal’s life completely upside-down.

Will Matt ever get to marry the man of his dreams? Will Cal be able to come to terms with his past and get on with his future? Or will an unwelcome guest put their romance on the rocks forever?

You’re invited to the wedding of the year as Matt, Cal, Mrs. Mulroney, Mr. Banks, Tilly and Angus return for more hilarious antics, swooning romance and a surprise that none of them will see coming!


Excerpt:



He leaned over to reach for the bedside table, pulling a bottle of lube from the drawer and emptying a generous dollop into the palm of one hand. With it he glistened up his magnificent cock, its veins shining and its head pumped and primed.
It wasn’t the only thing I noticed that was pumped.
I suddenly realized that Cal’s biceps bulged larger than usual.
His shoulders seemed a little broader.
His pecs seemed more muscular.
“Have you been working out?” I couldn’t help but ask, both turned on and totally curious.
Stroking his cock, Cal gave a half-shrug. “I always work out.”
“I mean, more than usual.”
This time he gave a full shrug. “Maybe.”
He inched himself closer to me on the bed, positioning his hips between my legs. He was about to slide his lubed fingers into my ass when I heard myself ask—
“Have you lost a few pounds?”
It just slipped out. I was thinking it… I just didn’t realize I’d actually said it, not until I heard it.
“Can we just stay focused on the task at hand?” he asked, smiling as his thumb rimmed my hole.
“Ooh, yeah. That feels good,” I said, giving him some attention for one brief moment before adding, “I’m not saying you need to lose any weight. It’s just that... well, your V-shape is looking a lot more… V.”
Cal pulled his hand away from my ass. “Matt, you’re killing the mood.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just asking, that’s all. You’re looking really good at the moment. Actually, you’re looking better than good. You look amazing.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re not having an affair, are you?” I asked the question so quickly it was almost a blur.
“No!”
“Then why the hotter-than-usual bod? Are you trying to impress someone?”
“Yes, I am! You! I’m trying to impress you, Matt.”
“What the hell for?”
“The photos,” he blurted. “I wanna look good in the photos.”
“What photos?”
Cal sighed. Then smiled. Then answered, “Our wedding photos.”
I gasped so sharply for a moment I thought I may have detached my tongue.
That’s when Cal eased himself off the bed and rummaged through the pocket of his trousers on the floor. “I was saving this for the right moment but… I guess this is it.”
He pulled out a small box.
Quickly I sat up on the bed and wriggled my way to the edge of it. My heart began to hammer like a drum inside my chest and my eyes welled up.
Stark naked—with his cock hard and shiny with lube and a ring box in his hand—Cal knelt down on one knee at the edge of the bed. Gazing into my eyes he said—
“When we were in the elevator today and I woke up to see you and that beautiful baby… a baby that you delivered, a life that you brought into this world… I was so proud of you I could barely speak. I knew right then and there, beyond any doubt, that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I wanna have a baby of our own some day. I want us to be together… forever.”
Cal popped open the lid of the box. Inside was not one, but two matching platinum rings, one set with a single, small, sparkling sapphire, the other with a tiny, glittering emerald.
I felt the first tear streak down my cheek as he said—
“Matthew Thomas Darcy, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
I practically fell off the bed and onto my knees in front of him. I looked from Cal to the rings and back again and in a voice knocked off-balance by the tears I answered— “Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!”



Get the book:



And book 3, The Billionaire's Wish 


Blurb:

Tis the season to be jolly, but romance writer Matt Darcy is feeling anything but festive. With a pile of rejection letters as high as his latest manuscript, Matt is questioning whether his career as an author will ever take off. And while his perfect husband Cal has planned a week-long trip to a mountain chalet for Matt, Mrs. Mulroney, Mr. Banks, Tilly and Angus—so that everyone can be together and enjoy the lead-up to Christmas—Matt can only hope his feelings of worthlessness and self-doubt won’t ruin the trip.

But when a bump on the head knocks Matt out and he wakes up miles from the chalet, the journey he must undertake is not a trek through the snow, but an eye-opening insight into the lives of those he loves most if he, Matt Darcy, had never, ever existed.

Will Matt let his feelings of uselessness and self-doubt lead him forever into the Forest of Darkness… or will this Christmas open his eyes to the magical truth that it is indeed a wonderful life?



Get the book:




Geoffrey's Favorite Things:

You’d think that putting together a list of your favorite things would be easy, but this was surprisingly hard. For what it’s worth, here are the things I love most in the world:


  • Animals. We all live on this planet together, it’s our responsibility to look after each other and be kind to all living things. Yes, even the scary ones. Hey, I live in Australia, just about everything is scary. Except koalas, they’re just plain adorable!
  • The smell of bread baking. God damn this carb-free diet I’m on!
  • Watching a movie and suddenly a song that you thought only you knew starts playing, and out of nowhere you and a director you’ve never met have a truly unbreakable bond.
  • Getting up early in a foreign city and finding the first café that opens for a coffee to go, then wandering the streets of a city you don’t know before any other tourists can ruin the experience. Extra points if the streets are cobblestone.
  • Being given flowers for absolutely no reason.
  • Musicals. Who would have guessed?
  • Not being able to guess the twist in a movie. I love gasping and whispering in shock, ‘I did NOT see that coming’. Brett likes it too because when I DO see it coming I usually blurt it out and ruin the movie for him. My mouth should seriously have a spoiler alert warning.
  • White wine. No need to say more, just pour me another drink.
  • Rain, like I’m talking a serious drenching. I live in the dry tropics in North Queensland, Australia, and it rains so seldom that whenever we get a drop everyone wants to run out into the streets and starting dancing in the rain. Which leads me to…
  • Watering my garden. I absolutely love gardening and I adore my garden, but with our lack of rain it demands a lot of watering, which I love to do while drinking a glass of wine. Did you see how I managed to combine the last three points together? That’s some serious segue action going on there.
  • People who make me laugh. I love a good laugh!
  • Italian food. In fact, pretty much any kind of pasta. God damn this carb-free diet I’m on… again!
  • Truly original and memorable character names like Atticus Finch, Huckleberry Finn, Ichabod Crane, Holly Golightly, Sherlock Holmes, Willy Wonka, the list goes on. The sound of a name can conjure up everything that’s good or evil about a character. I spend WAY too much time coming up with names for characters, it’s one of my favorite things about the writing process.
  • Milk. I know there’s two types of people in this world, those who love to drink milk and those who don’t. I’m one of the milk-lovers.
  • Trivia games. It’s an addiction and be warned, I’m VERY competitive.
  • Movie nights at home, preferably a good horror flick, complete with junk food and enough wine to snuff out a house fire.
  • A well-placed curse word. Not one used randomly or gratuitously, but well-chosen and well-delivered. Fuck yeah!
  • And last but by absolutely no means least, my funny, clever, handsome partner Brett and our adorable 2-year-old daughter Elliot who is the smartest, most hilarious kid on the planet. I know every parent says that but this time it’s true! I swear! ;)


More about Geoffrey:

Geoffrey Knight is the author of more than 25 gay fiction novels, novellas and short stories, ranging in genre from gay adventure, gay romance, gay suspense and gay comedies. He is the recipient of two Rainbow Awards including Best Mystery Winner and Best Overall Gay Fiction Runner-up. His work has been featured in several anthologies including Best Gay Erotica 2013, and he appeared as Guest of Honor at the inaugural Rainbow Con in Florida, 2014.

Geoffrey has worked in advertising, politics and journalism, but nothing is as fun as telling stories. He lives with his partner, their young daughter and their small furry family in a rambling old house in North Queensland, Australia, where the paint is fraying and life is good.

Connect with him on his Amazon Page.



Giveaway:





Thank you for celebrating this fabulous author with us. Come back next week for more of Geoffrey's books, five little-known facts, and another chance to win.

Until then, happy reading!













2 comments:

  1. Thank you for the post and sharing some of your favorite things. I love baked bread smell too but it takes too much time to do it on a normal basis.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hi there. Freshly baked bread smells divine, doesn't it? One of my favorite things is walking into a bakery and taking a deep breath to inhale all the wonderful scents. Thanks so much for stopping by and commenting!

      Delete

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