Book Lovers 4Ever: Come What May by AM Arthur Tour & Giveaway !!!

Come What May
A.M. Arthur

Series: All Saints
Book: One
Release Date: May 23, 2016
Pages or Words: 70,000 words, 320 pages (print edition)
Categories: Contemporary, Fiction, M/M Romance, New Adult, Romance

Publisher: Carina Press
Cover Artist: Carina Press

Goodreads

Excerpt:
“It’s small,” Jonas said.
“Better than a cardboard box or foster care.” The sharpness in Tate’s voice echoed in his frown.
Jonas had never known anyone before who’d been in foster care, and saying so would probably make him the biggest douche on the planet. It also took the edge off some of his irritation over the total mindfuck that was Tate Dawson. “It’s way better than both of those things. You worked hard for this place, Tate. I haven’t worked hard for anything in my life.”
“I disagree.”
He blinked. “You do?”
“Yes, I do. I think you work very, very hard to convince yourself and the world that you’re something you’re not. I think you work very, very hard to be perfect when no one is, and the only thing anyone should ever do is just be her or himself. Be true to you, not to what others want from you.”
Jonas’s throat squeezed tight. “I can’t.”
Tate took a step closer, bringing a gentle waft of sweat and something sweet. “Why not?”
He saw the barest reflection of himself in Tate’s glasses and he didn’t like it. He stepped back. Tate snagged his wrist and held him there. The touch sent awareness buzzing across his skin, down his spine and straight to his balls. H needed to pull away before this got out of control.
And then his rebel brain decided it was a good idea to glance at Tate’s pink lips. Lips that Tate, the asshole, licked with slow swipes of his tongue.
Jonas yanked away his hand away so hard Tate stumbled. “I’m not gay, so you can get that ‘fuck the frat boy’ fantasy out of your head right now.”
Instead of being cowed, Tate planted both hands on his hips and said, “Who are you trying to convince? Because it’s just you and me in this room, and I’m not the one who brought up your sexuality. You did.”
Damn him. “Why won’t you leave me alone?”
Tate’s gaze drifted over his face as he sought for words. “Because every time we’re together I can tell you’re struggling with something. You put up this lone wolf front to keep people at arm’s length so you don’t have to work so hard to pretend, but it’s exhausting you. Jonas, you can be yourself with me. Whoever that is.”
“I can’t.” Talking was getting harder around the lump in his throat. His heart was kicking too fast and his chest ached.
“Look me in the eye.” Tate closed the three strides between them, then curled a warm hand around the back of Jonas’s neck. “Look me in the eye and say you don’t want to kiss me right now.”

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Guest Post by A.M. Arthur:
Thank you so much to Book Lovers 4Ever for having me today to celebrate the release of Come What May. One of the novel’s heroes, Tate Dawson, had to grow up at a young age and raise his two younger sisters. Needless to say, he had to become a bit of a self-taught cook at fifteen years old. I never had to raise any siblings, but most of my cooking skills are self-taught, gleaned from years of binging on Food Network shows.
My aunt recently asked me how I became such a good cook, and said “Twelve seasons of ‘Chopped.’” And it’s true. It helped me problem solve a few weeks ago, when what could have been a meal disaster became an edible delight.
I love my crock pot. Adore it. It’s easy cooking, and that day I was craving a simple beef roast with potatoes, carrots and celery. While cutting the potatoes, I noticed a strong smell of dirt on their skin, so I washed them hard and didn’t think about it much (I always leave the skins on because that’s where all the good vitamins are). So I put everything in the crock pot and let it go.
Fast forward four hours on high: the potatoes tasted like dirt. It was gross. The other veggies and meat were fine, but the potatoes! I mourned those potatoes and threw away the rest of the bag. But I wasn’t letting the rest of it go to waste, so I picked out and tossed all the cooked potatoes, then chopped the meat and cooked carrots and celery into smaller pieces. Made a gravy thickened with cornstarch (I cook gluten-free). Tossed everything together in a pot and served it over cooked brown rice so I had a starch.
Minor disaster averted, and I cleaned up that night feeling like a Chopped Champion of my own kitchen.
Have you ever saved a meal from disaster with a little creative thinking?

Meet the author:
A.M. Arthur was born and raised in the same kind of small town that she likes to write about, a stone's throw from both beach resorts and generational farmland. She's been creating stories in her head since she was a child and scribbling them down nearly as long, in a losing battle to make the fictional voices stop. She credits an early fascination with male friendships (bromance hadn't been coined yet back then) with her later discovery of and subsequent love affair with m/m romance stories. A.M. Arthur's work is available from Samhain Publishing, Carina Press, Dreamspinner Press, and SMP Swerve.
When not exorcising the voices in her head, she toils away in a retail job that tests her patience and gives her lots of story fodder. She can also be found in her kitchen, pretending she's an amateur chef and trying to not poison herself or others with her cuisine experiments.

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