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Blatant promo

I've repackaged all the Morgan family stories into one ebook. Jeff over at 1placeforromance was looking for .99 dollar reads and it seemed like a good idea. "I Hate Christmas," another Taylish and Daniel story is about out too. So anyway, here's the promo for the new little ebook.

Title: Meet the Morgans
Author: Nix Winter
Rating: There's some hot sex scenes, and some controversial topics, but mostly it's just about their lives.
Genre: Contemporary m/m
Price: .99

Note: These are all older stories, out in one form or another. Shadow of Wishes was with Venus Press, a long time ago. I'm about to release a new Taylish and Daniel story though, so I wanted to make their back story available. The book also has a story with August and Anderson, my lawyer and priest stories. Which you can read at my blog if you like...

Blurb from Shadow of Wishes:

Taylish Morgan hasn't told anyone he's gay. His dad is a preacher. His own life is centered around being a good cop, saving lives. When he meets Daniel, he learns that being a good cop sometimes means being a good man. This book contains Shadow of Wishes, Daniel Morgan's Christmas, Arrested Kisses, Cigarette Smoke, and a sneak peek at August and Anderson.

Excerpt from Daniel Morgan's Christmas:

I don't know why he doesn't like this holiday, but there are a lot of things I don't understand about this holiday, or even this whole country I've come to live in. The only thing I have to really compare things to, are video games and the culture of Royal's gang. I tell you, I was sheltered. But--I'm talking about Christmas today.

Royal's uncle, Francis, had been my guardian when I was a kid. We lived on a country estate and most of that period of my life is a big, gray blank. I don't remember, and no matter what my therapist thinks, that's a good thing. The first mention of Christmas I remember was in my World History class. Charlemagne was made Holy Roman Emperor on Christmas 1025. The Holy Roman Emperor. Yeah. Well, the world has changed a little since then and my stately ideas of what Christmas was all about went to hell in a hand basket.

The depression hit Taylish first, subtle, so quiet. He worked more hours, as if I'd even thought that was possible. His head tipped more when he was home. And sex. What does Christmas have to do with sex? It must have something because someone's developed an allergy to it. I hadn't thought that was possible either.

Peace has gone manic. He's out of the shelter every afternoon and singing... songs. Odd songs, about reindeer and some German saint. I hadn't thought Protestants went for saints. The shelter smells like pine and cinnamon and Karen keeps asking me what my favorite color is. That's right up there with, 'You don't look blind!' Duh. I don't have a favorite color anymore.

I have favorite textures. I like cashmere and velvet, and denim, marble and keyboards. Peace hung a sock on my office door. A sock! And not even the kind you can wear, some fake anime shaped sock. Karen says it's so that Santa Claus can put my treats in it. Really. I don't want anything from an old German saint, and nothing shoved in my socks while I'm sleeping. Really.

I don't understand the obsession with things. How do you get to be a saint by giving toys? I guess I just don't get it.

With Tay's sulking and Peace's mania, neither is as bad as Maya. Maya is spending. How I ended up with her on these shopping trips, I don't know. I promise you any place that offers shopping carts with engines that shoppers can ride around, any place that large, well, it has nothing to do with the great stately coronation of Charlemagne. An entire shopping center that sings manic songs about reindeer, it really makes me wonder where I've come to live.

Maya is a police officer and she was arguing with some other woman over a sweater that was on sale. I doubt the three dollars they were about to save was worth the energy they put into fighting. And when she realized I wasn't buying anything, that energy turned towards me. Well, yes, I do have money that's not from Taylish's bank account, thank you. It quickly escalated into an inquisition. I think... something is wrong with this holiday, so... I came up with an idea. Maybe Maya just seems worse because I'm stuck out here with her and I don't know how to make her calmer.

What this holiday needs is a party, a party that's like I imagine it should be. Christmas full of warmth and laughter and a promise that the darkness wouldn't last forever. I want a Christmas that is relaxed, with great food and a fire, and maybe I can imagine giving toys to little kids. Yeah, I can see that, toys for children, so they can play and laugh. It makes me want a toy to keep back the darkness, too. Can you imagine some cottage, with a warm fire, everyone tucked up inside away from a snowstorm?

Well, I'm told it doesn't snow in California. I'm waiting to see.

Excerpt from Shadow of Wishes
No movie. Movies were forbidden to him in Hong Kong because they were such a big security risk. He was a valuable asset and really, he hadn't expected to be able to go to a movie here either. Museums he had been to before. Once he'd had a patron who liked those kind of places for 'visits' and maybe it had been those times that had caused him to think of freedom and of the nature of being a person in the first place.

He couldn't make his escape on the first day, regardless. Royal worked on a schedule, a tight one, and Daniel knew that he needed to be back in Hong Kong in five days, so if Daniel were still missing when the time came to return... Royal would send assassins, pay someone else to take care of his mess, and they would be easier to deal with than Royal.

And another thing about museums, humanitarian organizations put up information there. Not that any of them would be willing to help a Hong Kong whore, but he could always lie long enough to get away from Royal, and then find his own way. Amnesty International would be easier to walk away from than his master by a great deal, he figured.

“Yes, I'd like to go to the museum of J. Paul Getty, please.”

If Daniel had a real weakness, something that slipped under his guard and seduced him into forgetting the real world he lived in, that would be the past. Maybe it was because he didn't know his own -- well, other than he wasn't Chinese and that Daniel was a Jewish name. He was pretty sure his parents hadn't been Jewish, but one could never tell.

His keeper followed him quietly, her PDA constantly out, but he was in heaven. He had to see everything, but some things drew him in, made love to his soul. Monet was so beautiful. It was as if the colors were each part of the other, laying a human soul out in purples, violets, and greens that slid between each other, deeper and cool as if he could feel the water they touched, feel the freedom of the fish that must live below the surface. The tips of his fingers tingled with a need to feel the painting -- to feel the edges left by the strokes if there were any, to be closer to that moment when the long dead painter had touched color to canvas.

“You have been staring at that painting for twenty minutes,” his guide said, not in judgment, just a statement. “What do you see?'
“The colors are free,” Daniel said. “The way they slide one into another, shifting, overlapping, and I love it. It's like a song where the words are subtle and you have to listen really hard to find the meaning.”


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