#SpotlightSaturday: Bourbon and Burlesque (Love & Libations #3) by Raquel Riley


Today's #SpotlightSaturday is shining down on book three of Raquel Riley's Love and Libations series, Bourbon and Burlesque

From the Excerpt:

Is it a cliché to fall for the man who comes to your rescue? Or is it fated?

Kelley Michaelson

Love and affection had been missing from my life since I came out to my parents as a teen. Burlesque gave some of that back to me. When I take the stage, the audience admires me, the music loves me, but burlesque isn’t the passion of a lover, a soul-deep connection my heart yearns to share with another man.

When my boss’s father plays my hero from a stalker, I know my search is over. His vow to keep me safe feels like so much more than that. Smart, confident, loyal and generous, tough as nails…he can face anything, except when it comes to me. If he runs, I have a plan to catch him.

Graham Carrick

I never thought I’d give myself another chance to be a fool in love, but when Kelley strutted into my life on patent leather stilettos, and turned it upside down, he didn’t really give me a choice.

Nothing has been the same since, including my heart. I don’t want life to go back to the way it was before, even if it could, but it doesn’t matter. The twenty-eight years that separate us are too many to bridge the gap, no matter how I think he makes me feel.

Bourbon And Burlesque is an age gap, grumpy sunshine, opposites attract gay romance with a femme-fatale burlesque dancer, a silver fox bar-owner, a dash of hurt comfort and forced proximity, and a diva kitten named Glitter. This is the third book in the Love And Libations series.


My blood pressure rose with each block we passed. Every mile brought us closer to the worst part of town. When we pulled up in front of his building, a crumbling stucco structure painted tan with a brown roof that was missing more shingles than it still retained, I hesitated to even let him out of the truck. There was no landscaping, just red dirt, overgrown weeds, and rocks. The asphalt in the parking lot was cracked, and I had to dodge several potholes to avoid a flat tire.

Kelley looked sheepish, avoiding my eyes. “I’ll be back in a jiffy. You can just wait here.”

Like hell I would. There was no way he was going anywhere out of my sight. Not around this dump.

He reached for the door handle, and I laid my hand on his sleeve. “I go where you go.”

I followed him out of the truck and up the stairs to the second floor. It did not escape my notice that the handrail was loose. And rusted. Kelley stopped three doors down and dug his key out of his pocket.

“Can you please just wait here? There’s no need to come inside. It’ll only take me a minute.”

“That’s not—”

Kelley’s hand covered his heart, and he swallowed. “I know it’s not the nicest place, but I work really hard to afford what little I have. I’m not ashamed of where I live, although I’m not exactly proud of it either. But it would put me at ease if you could just wait outside.”

I almost let it go. Almost. My fingers closed around his thick biceps, my face pulling into an intense frown. “Hey, I didn’t always live in a big, fancy house. I grew up just a few blocks from here. I struggled. Every month. I watched my mother struggle. There’s nothing wrong with living modestly. Don’t ever mistake me for somebody who judges.” I just want better for you. I wisely swallowed those words.

He popped up on his tippy toes and pressed a glossy kiss to my cheek. “Thank you,” he whispered in my ear.

Kelley disappeared through the door, shutting it behind him, but at the last minute, I stopped it with my foot before it could fully close. Just in case he needed me and called out and I couldn’t hear. I leaned against the wall to bide my time. There was absolutely no fucking way he would ever be returning here. When the time came, I would help him find a better place to live, a safer place. It was a miracle he hadn’t been raped in the laundry room already. Or had his apartment broken into. Hell, he could stay in my house and rent a room from me as long as he wanted. But returning here to this shit hole was not an option.

I poked my head through the door and the scent of lavender assaulted my nose, and I smiled, thinking how perfectly it suited him. “Grab some clothes,” I called out. Hell, grab everything. Because it would be a cold day in hell before I let him return for good.

He stepped through the door minutes later, carrying a large duffel bag over his shoulder and the handles of a large paper shopping bag in his grip.

“Did you grab clothes?” I asked, hoping he’d taken everything.

“A few things. I can always come back later. With any luck, they’ll catch him soon.”

“Kelley, it’s not an imposition on me to bring your things into my home. I’m sure it would make you feel more comfortable there if you were surrounded by familiar things. Go back in and grab another bag of your stuff. I’ll wait.”
He conceded with a nod and ducked back inside, returning minutes later with another bag. I took it from his grip along with the shopping bag and carried everything to my truck.

“Promise me you will never come back here without me. I wouldn’t doubt this guy knows where you live.”

His beautiful blue eyes rounded, glossy pink lips parting in shock. “You really think so? It never occurred to me.”

“He knows where you work, where you dance, why wouldn’t he know where you live? All he would need to do is follow you home one night.”

When he was seated in the car, strapped into his seatbelt, he looked back at the building one last time. Regret and apprehension reflected in his expression. I didn’t blame him one bit. It may not be a palace, but it was home to him, and now he felt unsafe there. As he should. And not just because his attacker was on the loose. It unsettled a person to feel as if they had no roots, no homebase, and I vowed to make my home feel like his for as long as he wanted to remain there.

Bourbon and Burlesque is available on Amazon and as part of your Kindle Unlimited subscription.