#NewRelease from Trevann Rodgers: WAITING FOR THE SON, LGBT Urban Fantasy

Trevann Rodgers joins me today to celebrate the release of WAITING FOR THE SON, book 3 in the Living After Midnight LGBTQ Urban Fantasy series. Best of luck with the new book, Trevann!

WAITING FOR THE SON, Living After Midnight Series, Book 3

Blurb:

The world is on the brink of genocide. Can an incubus rock star really be its only hope?

Cheyenne, the half-human son of the Monarch, is getting beaten up on the regular. He's also fighting with his weretiger boyfriend, holding down his gig in the city's premier nightclub, and taking care of his kids. Adulting is more complicated than he thought it would be.

Someone close to the Monarch is putting the supernatural races at risk. With everyone in his inner circle under suspicion, he asks his son for help unearthing the traitor.

Cheyenne declines. He doesn't have the bandwidth, and politics is not his thing.

When his father's troubles escalate, Cheyenne has no choice but to get involved. If he succeeds, the traitor will be exposed. If he fails, his father will die, and the backstabber will be free to lift the veil of secrecy that protects them all.

Waiting for the Son is the third book in the LGBTQ urban fantasy series Living After Midnight.

Warning: This book features quirky supernatural creatures, a luncheon that makes an orgy look like a made-for-TV movie and an incubus who makes you hope what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

Excerpt:

The standing-room-only crowd at Underhill had been into his new songs. Guys and girls alike had been in sync with him, swaying when he swayed and smiling when he smiled. His skin tingled with all the positive energy—until a voicemail from Unakite City Elementary School sucked all the happy out of him.

Cheyenne thumbed off his phone and tossed it onto the sofa in his dressing room. No sense in getting agitated. He couldn't find out what new crime his kid had committed until Monday morning. So instead, he changed out of his leather and chains performance gear and into more comfortable jeans and a black tee-shirt before packing up his guitar. 

His footsteps echoed as he made his way through the empty club to the alarm panel. Eric, the manager, appreciated the chance to leave early, ensuring he made it to wherever he lay to rest before the sun came up. 

Chey didn't like the vampire and owed him no favors. He didn't have to be the last to leave, and Eric knew it. Chey stayed when it worked for him, either because a fan-with-benefits caught his eye or he needed extra time to come down from the post-concert high. 

He punched in his code and turned on the alarm. A sense of peace washed over him as the whirring of the industrial fans slowed, the florescent blue lights faded, and internal doors locked with a mechanical swoosh that reverberated throughout the cavernous building. The click-click of the alarm system started a rhythmic chant signaling it was time to leave or risk being trapped inside.

The club's rear double doors closed behind him with a clang. Underhill's parking was never adequate for the number of people attending his shows, but Cheyenne always arrived early to be sure he parked close to the building. With his history of getting jumped in alleys and parking lots, he wasn't taking any chances. At least Gre'gori, the owner, had installed adequate lighting. 

He headed to the Cutlass, his ever-faithful ride. She stood waiting right where he left her, dependable if not shiny and new. Not that a bit of wear and tear was a problem. It kept anyone from thinking she was worth stealing or vandalizing. One day he'd be able to afford a new ride, something bigger and fancier, but even then, he'd keep this pretty green thing, maybe give her to the kids one day so she'd stay in the family. But for now, she was all his, like his guitar, the other important inanimate object in his life. 

"Hey there, sweetness." He patted her roof affectionately, placed his guitar case on the passenger seat, and froze. The acrid taste of challenge and jealousy, something like burnt marshmallow and ash, assaulted his senses.

Jeeze. Not again. Was the entire population of incubi out to kill him? 

Buy Link: 

Amazon - https://www.amazon.ca/Waiting-Son-Steamy-Fantasy-Midnight-ebook/dp/B0C9XVHZKW

Author Bio:

Trevann Rogers writes rock star romances, urban fantasy, and LGBT paranormal romances. Her books include HOUSE OF THE RISING SON and AFTER MIDNIGHT: The Beginning. 

Her short stories appear in the anthologies Dangerous Curves Ahead: An Anthology, and Wickedly Ever After. 

Each story incorporates an unquenchable addiction to music and Trevann's love for vampires, Weres, incubi and rock stars. She writes long after the sun goes down because, like these elusive creatures, she learned long ago that sometimes being yourself means Living After Midnight. 

Trevann lives in Connecticut with Toby, her 10-year-old rescue puppy, and Lil Monkey, a sock monkey who thinks he's real but refuses to chip in on the mortgage.

Trevann's internet home is www.trevannrogers.com/about

Social Media:

www.bookbub.com/profile/trevann-rogers 

www.facebook.com/trevannr 

www.pinterest.com/trevannr 

www.twitter.com/trevannrogers 

www.trevannrogers.com/about 

For up-to-date information about releases www.subscribepage.com/enter_livingaftermidnight

Trevann Rogers loves her Secondary Characters

I'd like to welcome Trevann Rogers to Journeys with Jana today. I love great secondary characters and Trevann has a very interesting S.C. in Consuela. Who doesn't love a drag queen/nanny/Norwegian forest dweller? Please welcome Trevann Rogers.

I often fall in love with so-called secondary characters. Not only do they add depth to the story, but also they offer a window into some element of the protagonist or his situation that the reader wouldn’t otherwise have access to. And sometimes, they steal the show. In my book, HOUSE OF THE RISING SON, one such character is Consuela who, by the way, would take great exception to being referred to as  “secondary”.

Consuela is Huldra, a Norwegian or Scandinavian forest dweller.  She presents as a beautiful woman, but if you see her naked from behind you learn she has a hollow back and a tail. Her people are very seductive, and the females use their wiles to seduce men into marrying them and giving them children. Or they may kidnap human children. Some sources reveal that Hulderfolk have a particular affinity for music.

Her rich heritage makes Consuela perfect for Cheyenne, the hero of the story.  He’s an incubus rocker who has two children. She helps him out by babysitting for him while he works. She’s at once their Mary Poppins and their guardian/protector. She’s Cheyenne’s truth-teller and his only true friend.

But that’s not all she is. Consuela is biologically Huldu—a male. She’s a drag queen (self-identified), with a sassy mouth and a fierce right hook.  She’ll kick your ass if you hurt Cheyenne’s kids. She steals every scene she’s in.

Readers seem to be drawn to Consuela. Perhaps some because she’s hilarious, (“I know a delivery boy who’ll come in 30 minutes or less.”), or because she loves the kids so deeply. I cherish Consuela for both of those reasons, and because of her devotion to Cheyenne in spite of Cheyenne’s secretive, mistrusting nature. She recognizes that he needs her and that they share two common bonds: Their love for his children, and the wish to be more than they are.

House of the Rising Son
Living After Midnight, Book 1
Author: Trevann Rogers
Genre: Urban Fantasy Romance

Cheyenne is a half-human incubus whose star is on the rise in the Unakite City rock scene. His father, the leader of the supernatural races, would prefer he keep a “low profile”, but screw that. Cheyenne has as much music in his veins as royal incubi blood.

Alexander's future is all set—finish law school, join the family firm, and marry someone who'd be good for business. Not that he has a say in any of it. He's barely met the woman his father expects him to marry.

As Cheyenne's musical career takes off, his carefully constructed life begins to unravel, exacerbated by an ex-lover who can't let go, a crotchety barkeeper with a dirty mind and a pure heart, a drag queen who moonlights as a nanny, and Alexander—who's not sure if he's falling for the incubus or the rocker.

Cheyenne denies who he is, while Alexander hides what he wants. Together, they learn that getting what they truly want means being who they truly are.

Warning: Contains hot were-tiger sex, a Thanksgiving celebration that makes the Inquisition look like a tea party, and an incubus who'll rock your world.
~~
Excerpt:

While waiting for their drinks, Alexander studied the deep grooves carved into the table, trying to ignore the friction of Cheyenne’s thigh rubbing against his as the musician tapped a heel to the thump of the DJ’s music. Once the drinks arrived, Alexander downed half the bottle before he realized Cheyenne’s large green eyes were staring at him.

“So where’s your girl, Prudhomme? I mean, Prune Danish. No, wait...”

“Prudish. Shit, Prudence,” Alexander sputtered.

Cheyenne’s eyes sparkled. “No, you got it right the first time. Where is she?”

He shrugged. “Home, I guess.”

Cheyenne cocked his head. “Oh, really?” He put his hand on Alexander’s leg. “What’s up? You can tell me.”

“It’s not working out.” Alexander dragged his teeth over his lower lip. “It’s my fault.” He couldn’t keep his attraction to Cheyenne out of his voice. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

Cheyenne put his thumb to his lip and paused. “It’s like the drink.”

Alexander tilted his head, not sure he heard correctly. “The drink?”

“Yeah, that nasty ass bourbon. I bet your father drinks it. Your uncles. All your friends. Everybody, right?”

He didn’t answer, but waited for Cheyenne to continue.

“It was just expected that you’d drink it too. So you did.” His hand moved up Alexander’s thigh. “But now, maybe it’s okay to drink what you like. A different brand, a better vintage. Because you want it. Because it tastes better.” Cheyenne licked his lips. “Because it feels right.”

Alexander cleared his throat and brushed his lap, pushing Cheyenne’s hand away. “I can’t.”

“If you change your mind, let me know.”

“You don’t understand. It’s not that easy. My whole life will change.”

“It already has.”
~~
You can find HOUSE OF THE RISING SON AT:
Samhain Publishing, Barnes and Noble and Amazon.

About Trevann
Trevann Rogers writes urban fantasy and LGBT paranormal romances. Her stories incorporate an unquenchable addiction to music and her love for vampires, Weres, incubi and rock stars. Like these elusive creatures, Trevann learned long ago that sometimes being yourself means Living After Midnight.

Find Trevann at:
www.trevannrogers.com
www.facebook.com/trevannr
www.twitter.com/trevannrogers