Chief's Mess by LA Witt Virtual tour | Cat's Review, Excerpt & #giveaway @RiptideBooks @GallagherWitt

 Anthony Talbot is in Anchor Point to visit family, but after two days of strife, he needs a break. A local gay bar is calling his name.

When Chief Noah Jackson sees that red head stroll into the club, he immediately wants him. They’re perfectly matched, and before long, they’re burning up the sheets. Noah can’t get enough. Anthony can’t stay in Oregon for long, but as soon as he leaves, he’s counting down the days until he can fly back for more. And between his increasingly frequent visits, there’s always phone sex, sexting, webcams . . . anything they can get.

But Noah’s got a carefully crafted façade, and Anthony can’t help noticing the slowly forming cracks. The scent of alcohol in the middle of the day. The extra drinks at dinner. The hint of red in his eyes. Anthony knows what it means. He doesn’t want to believe it, but he’s seen this before, and there’s no denying it. If Noah doesn’t get his downward spiral under control, he’s going to lose both his career and the first man he’s ever really loved.

Available now from Riptide Publishing | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Also check out Just Drive and Afraid to Fly, the first two titles in the Anchor Point series!

Cat gives this one 3 Meows with a 5 Purr heat index...

Chef's Mess is book three in the Anchor Point series. I will start by saying the book is a lot of sex and little plot. Having said that i did like the little bit of conflict that arose. I think L.A. Witt did a great job with the alcoholism I just wish we had seen more of Noah's issue and I could have handled a little less sex. 

I would have liked to seen more of both Noah and Anthony's Past I didn't get enough of either of them to really connect.  I will say I did like how Anthony and Noah met and Anthony's line to Noah. I found it petty hot that though Anthony was smaller and Noah older and stronger they held their own in the bedroom and I liked Anthony's aggressiveness. I also liked that it began lust filled and the relationship built slowly.

If you like military cops, computer geeks, stories dealing with alcoholism, and some very hot man-sex this is for you.

Excerpt...

I scowled, but said nothing.

She squeezed my arm. “I think everything is under control tonight. Why don’t you take the rental car and go have a night to yourself?”

“And do what?” I growled. “We’re in a Podunk town in the middle of—”

“Anthony.” She eyed me. “It’s a Navy town. I’m sure you can find something to do.”

God, that was tempting. Get away from Clint and maybe find a man whose company I could tolerate for the night? Hell yes.

I shifted my weight. “Are you sure you’re okay without me?”

She glanced back into the house, then out at the kids, and a small smile worked its way onto her lips. “I’ll be fine. I probably didn’t need to drag you out here after all.”

“You know I’d have come along anyway.”

The smile got bigger, and she hugged me. “I know. Thank you.”

I hugged her back, holding her tight for a second. She’d come to me for support as she’d figured out how to cope with Clint being queer. When she’d brought the kids out here to visit Clint and meet Travis, she’d asked if I’d be willing to come along so she didn’t have to face them alone. I’d moved hell and earth at work to make sure I had the time off.

But now it was time for a break. With my sister’s blessing, I said good-bye to everyone—even Clint, because I was here to be supportive—and left like the place was on fire.

Travis and Clint lived fairly close to the base, but then, everything in this tiny town was close to the base. So, a few minutes after I’d pulled out of their driveway, I was following the road lined with razor-wire topped chain link and signs warning against trespassing on government property. Not long after that, I was in downtown. Well . . . “downtown.”

I’d been living in Denver for too long. Little towns were things I drove through on my way from one actual city to another, or places I stopped into for lunch at mom-and-pop restaurants no one had heard of. I was used to freeways and skyscrapers, not microscopic map dots with a single highway running through and nothing taller than five stories. Hell, I was pretty sure that even at low tide, the bridge of the aircraft carrier moored on the pier was the tallest thing in Anchor Point.

And why am I so bitchy about this? Why am I so bitchy about everything?

Sighing, I rubbed my neck as I drove. Maybe I needed to get laid. As it was, I’d been so busy at work for the last month, I hadn’t had an evening to myself, and I never went more than a couple of weeks without hooking up. Add in the stress of being around my ex-asshole-in-law, and I was a sexual powder keg who needed his fuse lit stat.

Sooo how exactly did one go about finding some cock in this town? Portland was a bit far, and I had no idea what the gay scene was like in the towns that were closer.

There were apps like Grindr, but I kind of felt like having a drink and maybe winding somebody up on a dance floor first. Not romance or anything like that—just some foreplay-before-foreplay to make sure my dude of the night was as into it as I was. That didn’t necessarily mean a guy would be good in bed, but at least I’d have a better idea of what I had to work with.

Did a town like this have gay clubs, though? It did have a base, so that was a plus. I’d never had much difficulty finding hot and horny queer men in the vicinity of a military base. Were there Marines stationed on NAS Adams? Because that would be awesome. So awesome. I smiled at the memory of a threesome I’d shared with two jarheads a couple of years ago. So much ink, so much cock . . .

I shivered away the goose bumps and decided that, yes, I needed to find a club in Anchor Point. As close to the base as humanly possible.

I stopped to get gas, and as I got out, the attendant appeared. Oh. Right. It was illegal to pump your own gas in Oregon. This place was weird.

While the attendant filled the tank, I took out my phone and did a search for gay bars in and around Anchor Point. There seemed to be quite a cluster of them down in Flatstick, which looked like an equally tiny town within an hour or so. Ugh. I didn’t feel like driving that far. Especially if I wanted to have a drink or two.

There were a couple here in Anchor Point, though. Neither had a lot of reviews—never mind terribly positive reviews—but they were the closest places for a man to go trolling for dick. Push came to shove, I could always have a drink while I perused Grindr.

The High-&-Tight sounded promising enough. And it was close to where Mandy and I were staying. Not that I had any intention of bringing tonight’s man back to the room we were sharing—I’d figure out the venue when the time came—but at least I didn’t have to drive all over No-Name, Nowhere, to get to the club in the first place.

It was also about half a block from the base’s main gate. Perfect.

So, after my tank was topped off and I’d paid the attendant, I drove back to the hotel to make myself presentable.

Tonight, come hell or high water, this boy was getting laid. 

L.A. Witt is an abnormal M/M romance writer who has finally been released from the purgatorial corn maze of Omaha, Nebraska, and now spends her time on the southwestern coast of Spain. In between wondering how she didn’t lose her mind in Omaha, she explores the country with her husband, several clairvoyant hamsters, and an ever-growing herd of rabid plot bunnies. She also has substantially more time on her hands these days, as she has recruited a small army of mercenaries to search South America for her nemesis, romance author Lauren Gallagher, but don’t tell Lauren. And definitely don’t tell Lori A. Witt or Ann Gallagher. Neither of those twits can keep their mouths shut…

L. A.’s backlist is available on her website, and updates (as well as random thoughts and the odd snarky comment) can be found on her blog or on Twitter (@GallagherWitt).

To celebrate the release of Chief’s Mess, one lucky winner will receive their choice of two eBooks off L. A. Witt’s backlist (excluding Chief’s Mess) and a $10 Riptide Publishing store credit! Leave a comment with your contact info to enter the contest. Entries close at midnight, Eastern time, on June 24, 2017. Contest is NOT restricted to U.S. entries. Thanks for following the tour, and don’t forget to leave your contact info!