Mickie B. Ashling has a new MMM contemporary romance out, The Basque Trilogy book one: A Unique Request. And there's a giveaway!

Mickie has reduced the price of A Unique Request to $1.99 while the book is on tour.

Seven years have passed since Paul Alcott and Mick Henley separated, but hearing the familiar voice reinforces what Paul has known all along―he still loves Mick and wants him back.

Hope flares upon receiving a dinner invitation, but his dream evaporates when he learns that Mick is in a relationship with Basque jai alai player, Tono Garat.

To make matters worse, Paul’s services as a book editor are solicited to help Tono through the final revision of a love story he’s written.

Paul refuses until Mick reveals he’s been diagnosed with a fatal disease, and the novel is Tono’s only means of coping.

Paul and Tono resent each other, but they can’t deny the strong sexual attraction between them. Will they overcome their differences to provide the loving support necessary to sustain the man they love or will their animosity destroy Mick’s final days?

Warnings: Second chances, bittersweet, fatal disease

Get It On Amazon | QueeRomance Ink | Goodreads

Giveaway

Mickie is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:

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Cat gives this 3 meows with 3 a purr heat index...

Warning this one is labeled bittersweet so expect no HEA. I have my tissues on hand.

Sometimes I like something outside my comfort zone and a good ugly cry.

This was very different. The actual story is awesome. One of the main characters has ASL and through the story you learn a lot about the disease.

I also liked this threesome. It wasn't like oh let's all get together and everything was perfect. Quite the contrary. Two of the men were in love with the man with ASL. He loved both other men. One was an ex one his current partner. He asked his ex to help his current partner with a manuscript. The two really butted heads. Though the threeways were pretty hot.

It's a very emotional story.

However instead of the end really being climactic I felt it fell short. Suddenly it skipped to 3 years later for a couple chapters and I kept waiting for something that didn't come. Then I read beginning of next book expecting that to be there only its find it's not there either.

So having said that it is a beautiful bittersweet, highly emotional love story.

A Unique request meme - Mickie B. Ashling

A Unique Request Exclusive Excerpt

The paella was decimated, the pitcher of sangria empty, and the three men were still outside. None of them smoked cigarettes, but Mick did like his occasional weed, so he pulled out a joint and lit it, inhaling deeply before he passed it to Tono. The Spaniard took a hit and handed the high-grade marijuana to Paul, who took it without much thought. He was still drunk, despite all the food, but he took the weed anyhow, hoping it would push him into oblivion. He was thinking of Mick’s devastating news and couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that his former lover was so sick. He didn’t look ill―in fact, he looked sexier than ever.

Paul took a deep breath, relaxing as the powerful vapors saturated his lungs. He didn’t want to think about death or dying. They were in their thirties, for God’s sake—they weren’t old men. Mick had to be mistaken. He was given a diagnosis by doctors from another country who didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about. Tomorrow, he would call in the best and have them perform a battery of tests on Mick. He wasn’t going to accept anyone’s opinion but a qualified physician from New York City. Meanwhile, he was going to enjoy his ganja, and admire the two brunets who stared at him with interest. Christ, they were a pair! He couldn’t figure out which one he wanted first, and they were quite aware of his fixation―Mick’s warm smile was an open invitation.

The urgency had not diminished as the evening progressed. “Tell me about jai alai,” he asked Tono, in an attempt to take his mind off sex.

“What would you like to know?”

Paul tried not to gawk, but he couldn’t break away from the Spaniard’s intense gaze. His jaw was thick with the shadow of a beard that made him look dangerous. His lower lip was full, and he chewed on it incessantly―a habit Paul had noticed earlier. He wanted to kiss him, to taste the drops of booze still dotting his upper lip. Christ, he wanted to sample the flavor that had so captured Mick for the last six-plus years. Instead, he trained his steel blue gaze on Tono and said, “Is it played with a ball?”

“Yes, in a fronton.”

“A what?”

“It’s a court consisting of three very high walls.”

“Like a handball or racquetball court?”

“Similar, yes, but we don’t use our hands to catch the ball, or a racquet. We use a cesta.”

“A cesta?” Paul was clueless about most sports, having never enjoyed them. Track was one of the few he could tolerate when he was in school, and even that one had failed to hold his attention for longer than necessary.

“It’s a long wicker basket shaped like a banana,” Tono explained. “It’s strapped to a jai alai player’s hand, and we use it like a mitt to hurl the ball across the court. Once the ball bounces off the wall, another player has to catch it and hurl it right back, without juggling the ball or hanging on to it in any way. If the other player fails to catch the ball or drops it to the floor, he loses, and another player takes his place. The last guy standing wins.”

“Like a round robin?”

“I think so,” Tono replied, looking at Mick for guidance.

“Yes.” Mick nodded.

“What’s the ball made of?” Paul asked.

“Metal strands wrapped in goatskin; it could kill you if it hits you in the head,” Tono added.

“Sounds awful.”

“No more dangerous than your American football. It’s exciting and fast; you have to have quick reflexes, upper-body strength, and agility to play it well. Most young men in my part of the world grow up playing the sport.”

“Is it Spain’s national sport?”

“Not Spain.” Tono bristled. “Euskadi, the Basque Country.”

“Isn’t it a part of Spain?” Paul asked facetiously.

“The Basques have their own tradition and language. Don’t you know anything about us?”

“Just a smattering of knowledge. I’m sorry.”

“I thought you were so smart,” Tono challenged.

“Who says I’m not?” Paul countered.

Mick stepped in, ever the peacemaker. “The Basque people are a distinct ethnic group, and fiercely independent. They consider themselves to be culturally and linguistically different from any of their surrounding neighbors.”

“Tono is Spanish, isn’t he?”

“A Basque is first and foremost a Basque,” Mick replied. “Whether they are citizens of Spain or France is secondary to how they identify themselves.”

“I knew they were rebels. I just didn’t realize they were elitists as well.” Paul smirked.

“Paul,” Mick reproached.

“Sorry. Go on, please.” Paul curled his lip into a smile, aware he’d pissed of Tono again.

“When you’re in Basque Country, you’ll know it,” Mick continued. “Their language, for one thing—I’ve never heard anything like it.”

“Don’t they speak Spanish?” Paul asked.

“They speak Euskara as well as Spanish or French, depending on which side of the border they live on,” Mick replied.

“Is it hard to learn?”

Mick laughed. “Almost impossible, especially if you’re my age.”

“It’s no more difficult than English,” Tono maintained. “I’ve managed to teach Mick enough for him to understand when people ask him basic questions.”

“Majo, you’re too generous with your praise.” Mick reached for Tono’s hand and meshed fingers with him. “I get by, Paul,” Mick turned his attention back to his guest. “The Basque language is unique. I did a lot of research on it when I first arrived in San Sebastian. It’s been spoken continuously in and around its territorial location longer than any other European language. There are rumors and conjectures on the origin, some based on reality, others on myth. One of the most colorful ones I’ve heard is that Basques come from the lost city of Atlantis, and their language is as mysterious as the underwater world.”

Paul snorted. “Sounds magical. Next, you’ll be telling me they raise unicorns in the Pyrenees.”

“They do have these amazing goats,” Mick joked. “Biggest horns ever.”

“Do tell,” Paul said with a gleam in his eye.

“I said horns, Paul.” Mick’s reply was playful. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

Paul stood and stretched. “I’m older and wiser, but that part of my personality is the same. You never answered my question earlier. Do you guys play?”

“It depends on how drunk we are.” Tono gazed at Paul.

“Right now, I’m very drunk. Are you?”

Author Bio

MICKIE B. ASHLING is the pseudonym of a multi-published author who resides in a suburb outside Chicago. She is a product of her upbringing in various cultures, having lived in Japan, the Philippines, Spain, and the Middle East. Fluent in three languages, she’s a citizen of the world and an interesting mixture of East and West. A little bit of this and a lot of that have brought a unique touch to her literary voice she could never learn from textbooks.

Since 2009, Mickie has written several dozen novels in the LGBTQ+ genre—which have been translated into French, Italian, Spanish, and German. Audiobooks and foreign translations are available at Amazon and Audible. Her award-winning novels have been described as "gut- wrenching, daring, and thought-provoking."

Author Website: https://www.mickieashling.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/mickie.ashling

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/mickieashling

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/217416171-a-unique-request

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Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Mickie-B.-Ashling/author/B004QSCN3E

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