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Prancing of a Papillon

Opposites attracting, billionaires getting kidnapped, a Papillon who’s smarter than you are, and near-death at a dog show….


Jericho Jones is giving up on social life. What social life? Six-foot-five and packed with muscles he barely earned, Jericho looks like an alpha top, when he’s actually a gentle bottom who teaches first grade and lives with his hypochondriac mother. When Jericho’s friends, Finn and Em, suggest he accompany Finn to a dog show as the handler for their Papillon, Batshit, he decides, while he might be the world’s least likely Papillon prancer, he’d be grateful for a new experience and a few days away from Mama.


Jericho’s prepared to take dog handling seriously, but he’s not prepared for the pure lust he feels for wealthy dog owner, Brees Apollonia, a guy totally out of Jericho’s league. But Brees’s family issues make Jericho’s look tame – his father wants to marry him to the daughter of a prospective business partner. When Brees starts being followed by unknown guys, he thinks his father’s trying to scare him and uses it as an excuse to be “protected” by big, hunky Jericho. But pretend gets way out of control, and suddenly the only thing between Brees and possible death is a smart dog with big ears, three intrepid women, and gentle wimp, Jericho Jones.


Universal Link

Goodreads | BookBub


excerpt

A soft voice from behind him said, “Mr. Jones? Uh, Jericho?”


Jericho started to shiver before he even turned around. That voice was unmistakable. Looking only confirmed that his goosebumps barely covered the situation. Holy crap. In a couple days, the impact of that face and slender body had faded in Jericho’s busy brain to something approaching attractive humanity. Clearly, his brain was nuts. This guy belonged in the realm of the gods. Jericho smiled. “Hello, uh, Brees, right?” As in gentle breezes of lilac-scented heaven?


Brees stuck out that slim hand. “Right. Brees Apollonia.”


Jericho shook Brees’s hand. Or rather totally engulfed it so that no evidence of anything but the tips of his fingers showed. Swallowing up other folk’s hands wasn’t a new experience for Jericho, but in this case, he could think of other things he might like to swallow and that image wasn’t doing anything for the fit of his jeans. He might have decided to give up dating, but his body had other ideas.


Batshit whined. Jericho dragged his focus from inappropriate things and glanced down at Brees’s Papillon wiggling at his feet looking up at Batshit with enthusiastic interest. “Oh hi.” He put Bat on the floor, and the two dogs immediately touched noses and went in for a butt sniff.


Just then, Ichiko arrived behind Brees. “I have the keys. Fourteenth floor.”


From behind Jericho, Finn said, “I’ve got our rooms, Jericho.”


Jericho chuckled, just as he felt the leash he was holding pull tight against his legs and yank him toward Brees. Both dogs had managed to circle themselves, Jericho, and Brees, tying all of them into a bundle. Of all the parts of the burrito the dogs had created, Jericho stood the tallest and had the furthest to fall—and he did. As if there was some cosmic law saying Jericho would always make a total ass of himself around Brees Apollonia, his knees locked together inside the leashes and he started to tip.


Brees’s eyes widened and he put up his hands, and fortunately, Finn, who was smaller than Jericho, but still a pretty big guy, stepped in to shore up the bulwark. Together, they managed to prop up Jericho as Ichiko scampered around unfastening leashes and unwrapping Brees and Jericho, which Jericho had to admit was a tiny bit disappointing.


The problem was that as they were unfastened from their leashes, Batshit and Rodolfo took off around the lobby on a mad Papillon chase. They weren’t trying to enlist other dogs, but that was the effect, as several of the show dogs including a greyhound and an old English sheepdog, decided that somebody was having a lot of fun without them and proceeded to pull their handlers off their feet and take off as part of the race, scattering people in the lobby like bowling pins.


The lady who’d been criticizing Jericho outside, shrieked, “Will you get control of your dogs, for God’s sake!”

giveaway

To celebrate the release of Prancing of a Papillon, Tara is giving away a $10 Amazon Voucher.

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway HERE

series

Book 1: Passions of a Papillon

Universal Link | Audio Link | Goodreads


the author

Tara Lain believes in happy ever afters - and magic. Same thing. In fact, she says, she doesn't believe, she knows. Tara shares this passion in her stories that star her unique, charismatic heroes and adventurous heroines. Quarterbacks and cops, werewolves and witches, blue collar or billionaires, Tara's characters, readers say, love deeply, resolve seemingly insurmountable differences, and ultimately live their lives authentically. After many years living in southern California, Tara, her soulmate honey and her soulmate dog decided they wanted less cars and more trees, prompting a move to Ashland, Oregon where Tara's creating new stories and loving living in a small town with big culture. Likely a Gryffindor or maybe a Ravensclaw but possessed of Parseltongue, Tara loves animals of all kinds, diversity, open minds, coconut crunch ice cream from Zoeys, and her reader


Connect with Tara: Website: https://taralain.com/ Facebook Reader's Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/255111391312743 Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/taralain/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/taralain Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/taralainauthor/ BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/tara-lain





The Stark Divide

Some stories are epic.


The Earth is in a state of collapse, with wars breaking out over resources and an environment pushed to the edge by human greed.


Three living generation ships have been built with a combination of genetic mastery, artificial intelligence, technology, and raw materials harvested from the asteroid belt. This is the story of one of them—43 Ariadne, or Forever, as her inhabitants call her—a living world that carries the remaining hopes of humanity, and the three generations of scientists, engineers, and explorers working to colonize her.


From her humble beginnings as a seedling saved from disaster to the start of her journey across the void of space toward a new home for the human race, The Stark Divide tells the tales of the world, the people who made her, and the few who will become something altogether beyond human.

Humankind has just taken its first step toward the stars.


Release Date: 10th of July 2020

Publisher: Other Worlds Ink

Cover Artist: J. Scott Coastworth

Length: 86K

Representation: Bi, Trans FTM, Gay (Bi character not evident until book 2)

Paring: N/A

Troupes:Body modifications, dying world, generation ships, humanity is good, immortality, interstellar travel, redemption arc, sentient ai, sentient spaceships

Keywords/Categories: sci fi, generation ships, gay, bisexual,transgender, FTL, apocalypse, interstellar travel, hope

Goodreads

Buy Link

Amazon/KU

excerpt

Chapter One


“Dressler, schematic,” Colin McAvery, ship’s captain and a third of the crew, called out to the ship-mind.


A three-dimensional image of the ship appeared above the smooth console. Her five living arms, reaching out from her central core, were lit with a golden glow, and the mechanical bits of instrumentation shone in red. In real life, she was almost two hundred meters from tip to tip.


Between those arms stretched her solar wings, a ghostly green film like the sails of the Flying Dutchman.


“You’re a pretty thing,” he said softly. He loved these ships, their delicate beauty as they floated through the starry void.


“Thank you, Captain.” The ship-mind sounded happy with the compliment—his imagination running wild. Minds didn’t have real emotions, though they sometimes approximated them.


He cross-checked the heading to be sure they remained on course to deliver their payload, the man-sized seed that was being dragged on a tether behind the ship. Humanity’s ticket to the stars at a time when life on Earth was getting rapidly worse.


All of space was spread out before him, seen through the clear expanse of plasform set into the ship’s living walls. His own face, trimmed blond hair, and deep brown eyes, stared back at him, superimposed over the vivid starscape.


At thirty, Colin was in the prime of his career. He was a starship captain, and yet sometimes he felt like little more than a bus driver. After this run… well, he’d have to see what other opportunities might be awaiting him. Maybe the doc was right, and this was the start of a whole new chapter for mankind. They might need a guy like him.


The walls of the bridge emitted a faint but healthy golden glow, providing light for his work at the curved mechanical console that filled half the room. He traced out the T-Line to their destination. “Dressler, we’re looking a little wobbly.” Colin frowned. Some irregularity in the course was common—the ship was constantly adjusting its trajectory—but she usually corrected it before he noticed.


“Affirmative, Captain.” The ship-mind’s miniature chosen likeness appeared above the touch board. She was all professional today, dressed in a standard AmSplor uniform, dark hair pulled back in a bun, and about a third life-sized.


The image was nothing more than a projection of the ship-mind, a fairy tale, but Colin appreciated the effort she took to humanize her appearance. Artificial mind or not, he always treated minds with respect.


“There’s a blockage in arm four. I’ve sent out a scout to correct it.”


The Dressler was well into slowdown now, her pre-arrival phase as she bled off her speed, and they expected to reach 43 Ariadne in another fifteen hours.


Pity no one had yet cracked the whole hyperspace thing. Colin chuckled. Asimov would be disappointed. “Dressler, show me Earth, please.”


A small blue dot appeared in the middle of his screen.


“Dressler, three dimensions, a bit larger, please.” The beautiful blue-green world spun before him in all its glory.


Appearances could be deceiving. Even with scrubbers working tirelessly night and day to clean the excess carbon dioxide from the air, the home world was still running dangerously warm.


He watched the image in front of him as the East Coast of the North American Union spun slowly into view. Florida was a sliver of its former self, and where New York City’s lights had once shone, there was now only blue. If it had been night, Fargo, the capital of the Northern States, would have outshone most of the other cities below. The floods that had wiped out many of the world’s coastal cities had also knocked down Earth’s population, which was only now reaching the levels it had seen in the early twenty-first century.


All those new souls had been born into a warm, arid world.


We did it to ourselves. Colin, who had known nothing besides the hot planet he called home, wondered what it had been like those many years before the Heat.

###

Anastasia Anatov leafed through her father, Dimitri’s, old paper journal. She liked to look through it once a day, to see his spidery handwriting and remember what he had been like. It was a bit old and dusty now, but it was one of her most cherished possessions.


She sighed and put it away in a storage nook in her lab.


She left the room and pulled herself gracefully along the runway, the central corridor of the ship, using the metal rungs embedded in the walls. She was much more comfortable in low or zero g than she was in Earth normal, where her tall, lanky form made her feel awkward around others. She was a loner at heart, and the emptiness of space appealed to her.


Her father had designed the Mission-class ships. It was something she rarely spoke of, but she was intensely proud of him. These ships were still imperfect, the combination of a hellishly complicated genetic code and after-the-fact fittings of mechanical parts, like the rungs she used now to move through the weightless environment.


Ana wondered if it hurt when someone drilled into the living tissue to install the mechanics, living quarters, and observation blisters that made the ship habitable. Her father had always maintained that the ship-minds felt no pain.


She wasn’t so sure. Men were often dismissive of the things they didn’t understand.


Either way, she was stuck on the small ship for the duration with two men, neither of whom were interested in her. The captain was gay, and Jackson was married.


Too bad the ship roster hadn’t included another woman or two.


She placed her hand on a hardened sensor callus next to the door valve and the ship obliged, recognizing her. The door spiraled open to show the viewport beyond.


She pulled herself into the room and floated before the wide expanse of transparent plasform, staring out at the seed being hauled behind them.


Nothing else mattered. Whatever she had to do to get this project launched, she would do it. She’d already made some morally questionable choices along the way—including looking the other way when a bundle of cash had changed hands at the Institute.


She was so close now, and she couldn’t let anything get in the way.


Earth was a lost cause. It was only a matter of time before the world imploded. Only the seeds could give mankind a fighting chance to go on.


From the viewport, there was little to see. The seed was a two-meter-long brown ovoid, made of a hard, dark organic material, scarred and pitted by the continual abrasion of the dust that escaped the great sails. So cold out there, but the seed was dormant, unfeeling.


The cold would keep it that way until the time came for its seedling stage.


She’d created three of the seeds with her funding. This one, bound for the asteroid 43 Ariadne, was the first. It was the next step in evolution beyond the Dressler and carried with it the hopes of all humankind.


It also represented ten years of her life and work.


Maybe, just maybe, we’re ready for the next step.

###


The crew’s third and final member, Jackson Hammond, hung upside down in the ship’s hold, grunting as he refit one of the feed pipes that carried the ship’s electronics through the bowels of this weird animal-mechanical hybrid. Although “up” and “down” were slight on a ship where the centrifugal force created a “gravity” only a fraction of what it was on Earth.


As the ship’s engineer, Jackson was responsible for keeping the mechanics functioning—a challenge in a living organism like the Dressler.


With cold, hard metal, one dealt with the occasional metal fatigue, poor workmanship, and at times just ass-backward reality. But the parts didn’t regularly grow or shrink, and it wasn’t always necessary to rejigger the ones that had fit perfectly just the day before. Even after ten years in these things, he still found it a little creepy to be riding inside the belly of the beast. It was too Jonah and the Whale for his taste.


Jackson rubbed the sweat away from his eyes with the back of his arm. As he shaved down the end of a pipe to make it fit more snugly against the small orifice in the ship’s wall, he touched the little silver cross that hung around his neck. It had been a present from his priest, Father Vincenzo, at his son Aaron’s First Communion in the Reformed Catholic Evangelical Church.


The boy was seven years old now, with a shock of red hair and green eyes like his dad, and his mother’s beautiful skin. He’d spent months preparing for his Communion Day, and Jackson remembered fondly the moment when his son had taken the Body and Blood of Christ for the first time, surprise registering on his little face at the strange taste of the wine.


Aaron’s Communion Day had been a high point for Jackson, just a week before his current mission. He was so proud of his two boys. Miss you guys. I’ll be home soon.


Lately he hadn’t been sleeping well, his dreams filled with a dark-haired, blue-eyed vixen. He was happily married. He shouldn’t be having such dreams.


Jackson shook his head. Being locked up in a tin can in space did strange things to a person sometimes. I should be home with Glory and the boys.


One way or another, this mission would be his last.


He’d been recruited as a teen.


At thirteen, Jackson had learned the basics of engineering doing black-tech work for the gangs that ran what was left of the Big Apple after the Rise—a warren of interconnected skyrises, linked mostly by boats and ropes and makeshift bridges.


Everything north of Twenty-Third was controlled by the Hex, a black-tech co-op that specialized in bootlegged dreamcasts, including modified versions that catered to some of the more questionable tastes of the North American States. South of Twenty-Third belonged to the Red Badge, a lawless group of technophiles involved in domestic espionage and wetware arts.


Jackson had grown up in the drowned city, abandoned by his mother and forced to rely on his own intelligence and instincts to survive in a rapidly changing world.


He’d found his way to the Red Badge and discovered a talent for ecosystem work, taking over and soon expanding one of the rooftop farms that supplied the drowned city with a subsistence diet. An illegal wetware upgrade let him tap directly into the systems he worked on, seeing the circuits and pathways in his head.


He increased the Badge’s food production fivefold and branched out beyond the nearly tasteless molds and edible fungi that thrived in the warm, humid environment.


It was on one of his rooftop “gardens” that his life had changed one warm summer evening.


He was underneath one of the condenser units that pulled water from the air for irrigation. All of eighteen years old, he was responsible for the food production for the entire Red Badge.


He’d run through the unit’s diagnostics app to no avail. Damned piece of shit couldn’t find a thing wrong.


In the end, it had come down to something purely physical—tightening down a pipe bolt where the condenser interfaced with the irrigation system.


Satisfied with the work, he stood, wiping the sweat off his bare chest, and glared into the setting sun out over the East River. It was more an inland sea now, but the old names still stuck.


There was a faint whirring behind him, and he spun around. A bug drone hovered about a foot away, glistening in the sun. He stared at it for a moment, then reached out to swat it down. Probably from the Hex.


It evaded his grasp, and he felt a sharp pain in his neck.


He went limp, and everything turned black as he tumbled into one of his garden beds.


He awoke in Fargo, recruited by AmSplor to serve in the space agency’s Frontier Station, his life changed irrevocably.


A strange sensation brought him back to the present.


His right hand was wet. Startled, he looked down. It was covered with blood.


Dressler, we have a problem, he said through his private affinity-link with the ship-mind.”


Series Blurb

Liminal Sky chronicles humankind's first journey to the stars. The first three books - the Ariadne Cycle - cover the creation and launch of Ariadne (aka Forever) as she was grown from seed on an asteroid and then launched across the interstellar void. The books are told in epic fashion, with each broken into three parts that span generations.



Giveaway

Scott is giving away a $25 Amazon gift card with this tour, and a signed paperback trilogy of the Oberon Cycle (Skythane, Lander and Ithani) – two winners! Enter via Rafflecopter for a chance to win.


Rafflecopter Link

Author Bio

Scott lives with his husband Mark in a yellow bungalow in Sacramento. He was indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine. He devoured her library, but as he grew up, he wondered where all the people like him were.

He decided that if there weren’t queer characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.

A Rainbow Award winning and runs Queer Sci Fi, QueeRomance Ink, Liminal Fiction, and Other Worlds Ink with Mark, sites that celebrate fiction reflecting queer reality, and is a full member member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA).

Author Website

Author Facebook (Personal)

Author Facebook (Author Page)

Author Twitter

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Author Goodreads

Author QueeRomance Ink: Liminal Fiction

Author Amazon



A Paranormal Collection Supporting LGBT Charity

Once upon a time, a bunch of authors wondered...


Why should Heart2Heart - the phenomenally successful dating app - only work its magic in the human world when lonely lycans, dejected dragons, and jilted jackalopes need love, too?


In this new paranormal universe, mages and shifters, vampires, psychics, and even humans, will reach out to Heart2Heart podcast host Gene E. Del’Amp for help finding a magical match… and they just might find that talking about their woes helps their wishes come true.

Eighteen of your favorite gay romance authors have come together to bring you brand-new paranormal and urban fantasy stories inspired by reader suggestions!


Once again, all proceeds from this collection will go to the authors’ favorite LGBTQ charities, to ensure that love in all its forms will be celebrated and protected every single day of the year!


This collection will be available for only 90 days before it’s gone forever.


Universal Link

Goodreads

All Proceeds Go To Charity

what is Heart2Heart?

H2H is a passion project that began as nothing more than a “what if” said among friends. Since then, across three volumes and with the involvement of twenty-six incredible authors of gay romance, the Heart2Heart anthologies have raised over $80k for LGBTQ charities around the world.


Because Heart2Heart is a charity project, all of the work involved in creating and promoting each volume is donated. From the author's creative work, to the editing and formatting, to cover design and promotion, all donation efforts by the Heart2Heart team contribute to the project's ability to donate as much as possible to the chosen charities for each volume.


Heart2Heart is a unique anthology project in the way each story is brand new content that’s inspired by reader suggestions and fits within an overall theme. H2H volume 4 is no exception. In December 2019 we received more than 350 suggestions from readers that our authors then used to inspire their characters and the wishes that would come true thanks to the Heart2Heart podcast.


To shake things up with this new collection, the decision was made to bring together some of the best and brightest authors of paranormal and urban fantasy gay romance for an alternate reality experience. Working within the classic elements of shifters, vampires, mages, and more, we’re excited to present sixteen brand new stories with all of the humor, feels, and spice you would expect from Heart2Heart.

my thoughts/review

This was interesting. It’s the first book in this anthology series that I’ve read and it was, honestly, like most anthologies. They were super short, super cute stories about falling in love.


These had the added bonus of being about paranormal which is my favourite sub-genre. My only read problem was that it was clearly meant to be a shared universe and it wasn’t, some of the stories, the ones that pulled me out the most, didn’t have paranormal or magic as a known entity. Also most, if not all, of the post calls seemed to be or go exactly the same, which got boring when binge reading the anthology.


However, overall I enjoyed the anthology and think, even outside the fact that it’s supporting such great charities it’s a good anthology, giving a little of something for everyone.


My favourite story was from JD Light, it was super cute about a chubby man and his love for his “straight” roommate only him thinking that causes not only a whole lot of pain for the roommate but also gets him the very man for himself.

The story had my chocked up a little it was just wonderfully packed full of emotions.


Genre/tags: paranormal, fated love, pod cast, magic

Rated: 3 stars

Pages: 760

Stories: 17


Hailey Turner

What are your thoughts on being part of Heart2Heart volume 4? I’ve loved being part of this volume! Getting to play with magic this time around was so much fun, and the company of my fellow authors was stellar as always. I was happy and honored to be invited back. Heart2Heart is such a fun community effort, and I had a blast.


Where can readers find you online: You can follow me on other social media platforms, join my Facebook readers group, and sign up for my newsletter right over here: linktr.ee/haileyturnerwrites


A brief description of your story "A Caller From San Francisco"

As a selkie, Ethan knows to keep his seal skin safe and never give it away. With his clan on the other side of the country, he’s lonely and wishes constantly for someone to come home to. Everything changes when a fire ravages through his home, and he has to put his trust in a complete stranger.

Excerpt

Life would be easier if he’d chosen an apartment in Berkeley, but the San Francisco Bay was a heavily trafficked body of water, and Ethan hadn’t wanted to deal with all the boats. Plus, many of the shoreline parks closed overnight, and Ethan preferred swimming at night where no one could see him change form. Living in San Francisco meant easier access to the beach, even if he didn’t go as often as he’d like.


Ethan was willing to make the sacrifice for the good of his clan, but sometimes it was isolating, even with what friends he’d managed to make in the Bay Area. Sighing, he unzipped his jacket a little while he waited on the underground platform. It was warmer in the station than up on the street, and he was feeling a bit overheated suddenly.


March was cool in parts of the Bay Area, but it got chilly during the night. Usually, Ethan could regulate his body temperature better than his human friends simply because he was a selkie. Tonight though, he stayed a little too warm even when he finally got on the first train. He thought it was a car where the heating was broken and perpetually on, but even when he switched cars, Ethan still found himself sweating.


He tried to ignore how uncomfortable he was on the trek home. He turned up the music a little and zoned out, trying not to fidget so much. He was definitely going to change forms and sleep in the tub tonight. Soaking in water would make him feel a lot better.


Then he made it home and realized nothing would be right again.


The flashing lights of multiple firetrucks up ahead on Sutter Street caught Ethan’s attention. The bus braked to a stop on the wrong side of the intersection since two police cars were blocking the way forward. Ethan turned off his music as the bus driver opened the doors.


“If you’re getting off, you need to get off here,” she said.


Ethan scrambled off the bus, heart pounding in his chest as he rushed across the street, barely cognizant of the lights changing. A police barricade had been set across the sidewalk, and Ethan’s sneakers skidded over wet cement. Smoke hung heavy on the air, stinging his nose as he finally caught sight of the devastation that used to be his apartment building—and where he’d left his seal skin, as he always did when venturing out into the world.


Ethan didn’t know he was crying until he tasted tears on his lips.


Charity Information

As with previous editions of the anthology, we’re honored to be donating our net profits to three deserving charities.


🌈 - Camp fYrefly (multiple locations, summer camp)

“Camp fYrefly is a summer camp and leadership retreat designed for lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans-identified, two-spirited, intersexed, queer, and questioning youth, (LGBTQ2S+) and planned in part by a committee of the same youth it seeks to serve. Founded in 2004 by Dr. André P. Grace and Dr. Kristopher Wells, Camp fYrefly is designed to help youth develop the leadership skills and personal resiliency necessary for them to become agents for positive change in their schools, families, and communities.”

https://www.ualberta.ca/camp-fyrefly


🌈 - Project 10 (youth services and advocacy, Quebec)

“Project 10 works to promote the personal, social, sexual and mental well being of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, transsexual, two-spirit, intersexed and questioning youth and adults 14-25.

Through advocacy and education, using a harm reduction approach, Project 10 aims to facilitate the empowerment of youth at individual, community, and institutional levels with a particular emphasis on supporting individuals and groups who experience multiple and intersecting oppressions.

Services are free of charge, confidential and anonymous, and are offered in English and French.”

http://p10.qc.ca/


🌈 - QMUNITY (local services, BC)

“A non-profit organization based in Vancouver, BC that works to improve queer, trans, and Two-Spirit lives. We provide a safer space for LGBTQ/2S people and their allies to fully self-express while feeling welcome and included. Our building serves as a catalyst for community initiatives and collective strength.”

https://qmunity.ca/about/

These are all great Charities and we need to take care of our youth and the next generation. Love is Love. Be safe and kind. No one should have to suffer for who they are or who they love!!


Authors and their stories

Jeff Adams & Will Knauss - A Caller from Grand Rapids (intro/outro story)

Charlie Cochet - A Caller from Windermere

Hailey Turner - A Caller from San Francisco

J.D. Light - A Caller from Springfield

Jenn Burke - A Caller from Ottawa

Kiki Burrelli - A Caller from Portland

Lisa Oliver - A Caller from New Orleans

Macy Blake - A Caller from Knoxville

Maz Maddox - A Caller from New York

Morgan Brice - A Caller from Pittsburgh

Pandora Pine - A Caller from Boston

Piper Scott - A Caller from Chicago

Sam Burns & W.M. Fawkes - A Caller from Seattle

Silvia Violet - A Caller from Savannah

SJ Himes - A Caller from Montreal

Susi Hawke - A Caller from Austin


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