Buy Links

  • The Weight Of It All is now LIVE!!

    TheWeightOfItAll Cover 200x300


    TWOIA is now live and available on Amazon/KU!  *twirls*  I’m soooooo relieved to have this book out in the world. Now I can concentrate on this US trip that I’m so overwhelmingly not prepared for…   LOL









  • Exchange of Hearts is now on All Romance eBooks

    Buy Links: Amazon |Smashwords | All Romance eBooks

    iBooks and Barnes and Noble will be posted asap!

    Blurb: Eighteen-year-old Harrison Haddon has grown up alone. Surrounded by wealth, nannies, and material things, all he craves is the approval of his father. Sent away to the boarding school his father and grandfather attended, it’s assumed he will follow in their footsteps from Sydney’s prestigious Ivy League school straight into medical school.
    But Harrison doesn’t want to be a doctor.
    He dreams of music and classical piano. His only true happiness, his escape from the world expected of him, is dismissed by his intolerant and emotionally detached parents.
    Levi Aston arrives from London for a three-month student exchange program. Free-spirited and confident in who he is and what he wants to do with his life, Levi convinces Harrison not give up on his dreams.
    But convincing Harrison not to give up on his family might not be so easy.



    I walked side by side with the blonde, well-dressed woman and ignored the looks and laughter from the other guys.
    Along with our student advisor, Miss Goff, I’d been relegated as the welcoming committee to the new kid. As part of a student exchange program, a kid from England was joining the ever-so-prestigious St. Michael’s Boarding School for three months.
    So, why me? Why did I get picked to go?
    Because he was going to be my roommate. That was why.
    As we got to the car, Miss Goff stopped. “Oh, I just remembered I left the file in my office. I’ll be right back, Harrison,” she told me. “Wait here. I won’t be a minute.”
    As she turned and walked briskly back toward the building, I leaned against the car, knowing the other kids would soon start with the slurs and teasing. I looked up, and of course it was him I saw.
    “Have fun with Miss Goff,” Carson taunted me suggestively. The other boys laughed. His personal entourage, of course they laughed. They were all rugby players, and I was the music nerd. Tall and thin, my dark hair made my skin look paler than it really was, with long piano-playing fingers, and I was usually alone—I was the opposite to their athletic builds and jock-pack mentality. Carson laughed the loudest. “No making out with the teacher at the airport, Haddon.”
    I didn’t even bother with a comeback. Why fucking bother?
    He knew damn well she wasn’t my type.
    She. No, shes were not my type at all.
    He knew this. He knew it damn fucking well. Because he and I had fooled around together. On the quiet, of course. In the darkened privacy of his room, only when he was certain there was no one else around, when it suited him.
    Just kissing mostly, rubbing, dry humping—whatever the fuck you wanted to call it.
    Making out. First base. Whatever.
    It was after our last encounter that things changed.
    It was about two in the morning and we’d been making out in his bed. We were both so hard, and he was whining and moaning as we writhed against one another. So I slipped my hand under the waistband of his boxers, and I gave him a hand job.
    Skin on skin.
    I wrapped my hand around his dick, pumped and squeezed him, and not a moment later he came.
    It was the fucking hottest thing. Ever.
    But afterwards, when his mind had cleared of his jizz-high, he was… different. He pulled away from me and suggested coldly I go back to my room.
    It was too real for him.
    I figured he just needed a day or two and then things would go back to normal.
    But they didn’t. They got worse.
    The jokes, the taunting. It had been over three months now, and he still made fun of me. Although I could see it in his eyes, as he was saying hurtful things, his eyes were saying sorry.
    And I couldn’t bring myself to say anything back. I just… couldn’t.
    “You ready, Harrison?” Miss Goff’s voice startled me. She had a manila folder in her hand. “We’d better go if we’re going to be there when the plane arrives. We don’t want to be late.”
    After we got into the car, she handed me the folder and then pulled out onto Ryde Road traffic, heading toward the city. I held the folder in my hands, not even bothering to open it. I couldn’t care fucking less about some foreign exchange student. If I had to put up with a roommate, I didn’t want to look at his face for any longer than necessary.
    Miss Goff sensed my mood. “Don’t worry about those boys,” she told me. “People like Carson Sinclair aren’t worth your time.”
    I snorted. If only she knew.
    We drove for a few minutes in silence. Then she asked, “How’s the music coming along?”
    We discussed my music for the rest of the drive. It was an easy subject for me, my love of piano, even though she knew I couldn’t make a career out of it. But thankfully before too much longer, we were walking into Sydney Airport’s International terminal.
    I figured this kid would take a while to get through customs and there’d be some kind of paperwork to fill out—I was also guessing you couldn’t just walk into the airport and take some random kid. So presuming it was gonna take a while, I told Miss Goff, “I’m just going to grab a Coke. Can I get you anything?”
    She was distracted enough, double-checking the board of flight numbers and arrival gates, and without looking at me, she shook her head. “No, thank you,” she said, before reminding me, like I was five years old and not eighteen, not to wander off, not to go too far, and to come straight back.
    I grabbed a drink, and keeping an eye on Miss Goff every now and then, I browsed through magazine racks. There was nothing really worth looking at—a nice one with Hugh Jackman on the cover, but I noticed two guys near the wall looking at a map. Obviously backpackers or hikers or something. They were dressed in cargos and T-shirts, hiking shoes; young, fit, healthy.
    I picked up a magazine and pretended to read it, but really I was just checking the two guys out. I didn’t often get the opportunity to perv on guys, so I took my time.
    Only they caught me staring, smiled politely and moved on. They walked past some other guy who seemed to have been watching me watching them, because he was trying not to laugh.
    He was cute too; tall as me, blond-brown messy hair, blue eyes, pale skin, and his pink lips gave him a nice smile. He looked fit but not like the football meatheads back at school.
    I wasn’t embarrassed to have been caught looking—even in full school uniform, no one here knew me, and Miss Goff was nowhere in sight. So I decided to play it up. I looked him up and down, shrugged one shoulder, gave him one raised eyebrow and half a smirk.
    He grinned, then turned his head quickly like someone called his name.
    Exactly like someone called his name.
    Like Miss Goff.
    Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me!
    That was him?
    My roommate for the next three months was the guy I just checked out?
    I watched—like a slow motion car crash—as Miss Goff greeted him and offered to take his suitcase. She looked up, saw me, and called me over. His eyes followed hers, and when he saw it was me, his eyes widened, and he grinned like the Cheshire fucking cat.
    I stuffed the magazine back in the rack and walked over, wishing the world would end in the next two seconds.
    No such luck.
    “Levi Aston?” Miss Goff said.
    “Yes, Miss,” he said with a posh British accent and a smile.
    She grinned. “We’d like to welcome you to Sydney, Australia. St. Michael’s is proud to have you,” she said. Then she looked at me, “This is Harrison Haddon. He’s a boarder. He’ll be your roommate and can show you around the school.”
    Levi extended his hand and looked at me with a knowing smirk. “Hello, Harrison.”
    Fuck. My. Life.
    “Hello,” I said, shaking his hand for as long as was considered polite, then let it drop.
    I was in such deep shit.

    Promo 2


    As you know, my wordpress isn’t widget/java script friendly, so please click on the rafflecopter image below to enter!

    rafflecopter pic
    Competition to win 2x $10 Amazon giftcard, and 2 further prizes of N.R. Walker e-books – closes 27th November at 00:01 Sydney
    Or the direct link to the rafflecopter is HERE

    Good luck!!! <3

  • French Translation of Blindside ~ Confiance Aveuglé – Tome 3

    For my wonderful French readers, I have the best news!  The translation of Blindside is now available! And it still has the gorgeous Mark on the cover <3


    Mark Gattison a évité l’amour et l’engagement durant toute sa vie d’adulte. Pas intéressé par quelque chose de plus qu’un coup d’un soir ou une brève rencontre dans une arrière-salle, il est l’incarnation du bon vivant. Will Parkinson est l’homme qui le défend, l’homme qui le comprend, l’homme que Mark appelle son meilleur ami. Quand Will devient perturbé et un peu distant, Mark décide de lui trouver un petit ami. Peu familier avec le concept lui-même, Mark pense que Will a besoin de quelqu’un qui le rende heureux. Ce que Mark ne sait pas, c’est qu’il est sur le point d’être surpris. Il est sur le point de se faire renverser par la seule chose qui se tenait juste sous son nez depuis le début.




    And I will post links to Apple and B&N when they become available.

  • Who is A. Voyeur?

    As it states on A. Voyeur’s blog (said wordpress can be found HERE) A. Voyeur is the pen name of an author who writes romance, and is used for an outlet of smut and fun.

    And yes, that other author is me.

    A. Voyeur was created for two reasons: to test the waters of erotica on Amazon’s KU platform, and to simply have some fun writing.

    Every now and then, writers will get so bogged down in plot, story arcs, character development and research (basically the basis of writing) that they forget to have some fun. And for me, as a writer, smut is my fun.

    I know a lot of my readers will call BS on that, because my stories do tend to fade to black a little. 😉 My romance writing is about the characters, and while there will always be some smut, it’s not page after page of sex. I publish them under the category of “romance” not “erotica” because that’s what they are. Yes, sex is important – particularly if it shows character growth and relationship development – and sometimes it’s just gratuitous, because sometimes that’s what sex is.

    But ultimately, books published under the name N.R. Walker will not contain copious amounts of sex.

    Now A. Voyeur books are a different story. Literally, and figuratively. 🙂

    Titled Gay Club Sex Stories 1 & 2, they are super short (book one is 13.6k and book two is 11K), and each book contain separate, different sex scenes. Book 1 has 5 scenes, Book 2 has 4.  There is no plot, no story arc, no character development. These are just smut for the sake of smut.

    Why different pen names?  It’s really not uncommon for authors to use different pen names for different genres, and it really is just a way to keep my laundry sorted, if you know what I mean.

    The covers are fun (and made by me, as you can probably tell LOL)

    GSCS 200x300

    GSCS 2 200x300

    PLEASE NOTE: These books come with a warning. They contain material some will find offensive, so reader caution is advised. Scenes include bareback, cum-play, some bondage, and some serious sacrilegious content. If that’s not your thing, don’t read these books. If it is, then I hope you enjoy 🙂

    There was going to be a third, but that’s yet to be decided. I have other deadlines and commitments to meet first, but I do like to never say never.

    Sooo, if you’re looking for something different, short, hot, smutty, mindless entertainment, then you can check them out at these links:

    Gay Sex Club Stories 1

    Gay Sex Club Stories 2

    AVoyeur banner 1

  • Buy Links for RDH4


    You can pre-order RDH4 on Amazon  HERE

    You can pre-order RDH4 on ARe  HERE


    Moving from a Texas ranch to an Australian Outback station was a life changing decision for Travis Craig. Though it wasn’t really a decision at all. Something in his bones told him to go, though he had no clue as to why.

    Until he met Sutton Station’s owner, Charlie.

    Loving Charlie shouldn’t have been easy. The man was stubborn, and riddled with crippling self-doubt. No, it shouldn’t have been easy at all. Yet somehow, falling in love with Charlie was the easiest thing in the world.

    Loving him was easy. Living with him, teaching him how to love in return and, more importantly, how to love himself, was not.

    But Travis knew all along it’d be worth it. He knew the man with the red dirt heart was destined to be his. Just like he knew the red dirt that surrounded him was where he was supposed to be.
    In the final instalment of the Red Dirt Series, we see Charlie through Travis’ eyes. We see how much he’s grown and how much he loves. We go back to Texas with them, and we see Charlie get everything he truly thought he never deserved.

    Red Dirt Heart 4 is Travis’ story.

    And this is the story of not just one red dirt heart, but two.

    download (1)


%d bloggers like this: