Oct 19

New Release Blitz ~ La Petite Mort by Pelaam (Excerpt & Giveaway)

La Petite Mort by Pelaam

Book 4 in the The Devil’s in the Details series

General Release Date: 19th October 2021

Word Count: 45,548
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 195

Genres:

ANGELS AND DEMONS
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
HORROR
MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS
PARANORMAL

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Book Description

The little death… Sometimes you never wake up.

When Samael, an incubus-possessed witch, escapes Garen and Luke, leaving not just another victim but also one of their own injured in the process, Garen is determined to track down the demon.

Its trail vanishes when it leaves New Zealand, only to be eventually picked up again by a team working in the UK.

Invited to assist them, Garen and Luke travel to England to meet the other team of investigators—Emery, his husband Alex and their friend Kadin. They also meet an unusual and unofficial team member, Grim.

The incubus has gone to ground in the country home of Steven Huntleigh, rich playboy and president of the Hellfire Club.

Emery, Luke and Kadin infiltrate the club and Kadin risks flirting with the incubus.

When the time comes to battle the demon, will the team be able to resist its lure—or will they become additional victims of its insatiable appetite?

Excerpt

From his vantage point at the back of the room, Luke watched Garen as his husband paced back and forth, gesticulating sharply and trying to get the woman across the table to engage with him.

But, far from cooperating, she looked increasingly more irritated. Luke stifled his sigh, knowing that the sound would only annoy her further. It’s not like I’m surprised. Melani-Leigh Waru-Richards was a socialite—rich, attractive, at least superficially, and used to others doing what she wanted, not vice versa. Her reputation had preceded her—arrogant, spoiled, demanding and downright rude.

But she’s also one of our three prime candidates for dying at the hands of a demon or demonic entity on the night of the upcoming full moon.

With Thomas’ approval, Garen had brought her to their headquarters where he and Luke were hoping to persuade her of the danger and have her agree to protective care until the moon waned. The full moon is just two nights away. As much as she’s proving to be a stupid, stubborn fool, I still don’t want her to be another victim.

“We wouldn’t be wasting your time, our time or anyone else’s if we didn’t believe the threat was very real, Ms. Waru-Richards.” Garen stopped pacing, slammed his hands down on the table and leaned toward the woman. It was a tactic that had worked many times in the past, but not with Melani-Leigh, who pursed her lips tightly and glowered at him before rising slowly from her seat.

“Inspector Morloc—”

“The name is Warnock.” Garen growled the words and Luke quickly went to his husband’s side, laying a hand at the small of his back, wanting to defuse the situation. Now that he was closer to the woman, he could see why she’d been described as a ‘plastic princess’.

Although her face appeared wrinkle-free, her hands told another story. Luke already knew her hair owed more to extensions than natural tresses. False eyelashes, fake tan, synthetic nails, artificial hair and silicone breasts. But for someone who’s in her late forties, from a distance she could pass as still in her twenties.

“All we’re asking you to do is to allow us to put you somewhere safe for the duration of the full moon. It’s just for a couple of nights.” Luke turned on all his persuasive powers, but Melani-Leigh simply folded her arms, her posture ramrod straight.

“You don’t even know for sure that I’m even in any danger, do you? Well, do you?” She looked from Luke to Garen then back at Luke. “Exactly as I thought. No, you don’t. You don’t know anything.”

“We know two people have already died, and we’d like to prevent a third.” Garen drew himself to his full height and glared down at Melani-Leigh.

“If we could be more specific, we would be,” Luke added as he rubbed soothing circles on Garen’s back.

“I have two very important functions to attend.” Melani-Leigh flicked at imaginary dust on her designer jacket sleeve. “Both involve charities that I personally sponsor—and not only am I expected to be there, I shall be. There will be top celebrities in attendance. Look… I’m no fool. I have a hand-selected team of expert security personnel who will be with me at all times. I can assure you that I won’t dismiss your concerns, but they won’t stop my life, either. No one but those closest to me, or most trusted, are permitted anywhere near me. I take it that this…creature doesn’t attack in full view of hundreds of witnesses.”

“No, but—” Garen started, and Luke winced as Melani-Leigh held up a perfectly manicured hand.

“No. You said it yourself. I will invite no strangers into my home. I’ll even salt the doors and windows and burn sage.” She cocked an eyebrow at Luke. “See? I’m aware of protections.”

“There’s nothing we can say to persuade you otherwise?” Luke asked. We can hardly threaten to lock her up if she won’t accept our help, and it is possible that she isn’t the intended victim.

“No. And if I thought I was in danger I’d have already done something about it. In my position, I have to be mindful of stalkers, overzealous fans, potential thieves and would-be kidnappers. Tell you what…” Melani-Leigh reached into the Gucci purse that she’d set on the table and drew out two gold-embossed invitations. “I’ll have you added to the guest list, Inspector.” She scribbled quickly on each card. “There we are, Inspector Warnock and guest. You can keep an eye on things right through the evening.”

“Thank you.” Garen accepted the invitations, passing them straight to Luke without as much as a glance. “We won’t keep you. There’s nothing more to be said.”

“Look… I appreciate you have a job to do, but believe me, my security is second to none. I pay for them to be the best.” Melani-Leigh hooked the purse over her wrist and sauntered to the door. “See you on Friday night.” Without a backward glance, she left the room, the door closing softly behind her.

For a moment there was silence in the room and Luke finally allowed himself the heavy sigh he’d previously banked.

“Fucking arrogant idiot.” Garen snapped out the words, his expression a mix of irritation and concern. “‘I pay for them to be the best’.”

“I suppose we could have shown her the desiccated corpses we have.” Luke sat on the edge of the table. “But she’d have probably put in a complaint against us. At least we can be on hand.” Luke fanned the invites and Garen snorted.

“But we can’t have a protective circle or a backup team ready to support us.”

“No.” Luke ran his hand through his hair. “Or can we?”

“What?” Garen turned to face Luke. “How?”

“If Thomas will throw his weight behind us, I’m sure that we can arrange with the hotel manager to allow us to have a room where we can set up a protective circle…just as a precaution. She was right in one respect. Neither of the victims were attacked in the open. One was in bed, and the other was sprawled across a kitchen table.”

“And both were naked.” Garen cocked his head. “Which suggests to me that sex may be involved. We couldn’t tell anything useful from the bodies. They were far too desiccated.

“Which could point toward a succubus or an incubus.” Luke sighed. “One that doesn’t care whether its victims are male or female. So many ifs, buts and maybes. We need to narrow down the search for ‘what’. Then we may find the ‘who’.”

“No signs of forced entry. Nothing out of place or missing. In both instances the victim’s friends even described them as very happy.” Garen rubbed his chin. “No. There was another phrase.”

“A new lease on life.” Luke snapped his fingers.

“Yes.” Garen nodded slowly. “That’s it. Over the past few weeks, they’d had a new lease on life—almost identical in both cases.”

“Then I suggest we find a few close friends of Melani-Leigh’s and see if she’s having a new lease on life. If so, then she’s the one we’ll target, and I’ll organize teams for the others.”

“Perfect.” Luke pecked a kiss to Garen’s cheek. “And I’ll make sure we have protections and spells for dealing with an incubus or a succubus.”

“Take care out there. Keep in touch. I’ll see you later. Come back here when you’ve got what you need.” Garen pulled Luke into a tight hug, and Luke wrapped his arms around his husband’s waist.

“I will.” Luke tilted his head and Garen gave him the kiss he craved. For a moment Luke lost himself in the feel, taste and scent of his husband. Reluctantly he slowly eased back. “I won’t be too long.”

“Good. By the time you return, I’ll have the teams organized and get Thomas to deal with the hotel hosting our potential victim.”

“Get schematics. We can map the place out and ensure we have everything covered.” Luke grinned up at Garen. “If the demonic force strikes there, we’ll have enough protections in place to deal with it.”

“Will do.” Garen gave a curt nod, then spun Luke around, swatting his ass to make him move forward. “Let’s get this started. I’ll feel happier when you’re back here.’

“I won’t be long.” Luke set off at a trot. The sooner I get going, the sooner I’ll be back.

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About the Author

Pelaam

Living in clean, green New Zealand, Pelaam is a multi-published author of gay romance and erotica.

When not working at writing, Pelaam likes to indulge in her other passions of cookery and wine appreciation.

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Oct 19

New Release Blitz ~ The Earl of Callander’s Secret Bride by Raven McAllan & Cassie O’Brien (Excerpt & Giveaway)

The Earl of Callander’s Secret Bride by
Raven McAllan & Cassie O’Brien

General Release Date: 19th October 2021

Word Count: 42,810
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 165
 Heat Rating: Sizzling
Sexometer: 2

Genres:

HISTORICAL
ROMANCE

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Book Description

A treasonable letter. Attempted blackmail. Can a secret marriage save the day?

Duncan, the Earl of Callander, loves his beautiful neighbour Lady Cairstine McColl but has held back from proposing until she has enjoyed her debut in Edinburgh. However, matters are taken out of his control when Cairstine discovers a plot to blackmail her father with her hand in marriage demanded as the ransom price.

A daring plan is hatched. To protect Cairstine, she and Duncan will wed under Scottish law, then travel to England incognito to find and destroy a letter that could see her father accused of treason and the family ruined.

But all is not straightforward once they arrive in Corbridge.

They must hide the passion they feel for each other from the blackmailer, and worse, there may not be just one blackmailer, but two.

Excerpt

Lady Cairstine McColl knew it was wrong to slip out from her family home unnoticed and go for a long tramp across the hills. Nevertheless, after the news her papa had just imparted, she’d had to get away. It was that or completely lose her temper. Shout, scream and be the termagant she didn’t want to be. She acknowledged it had been a close-run thing. Hence her escape. A pity she couldn’t escape the future as easily.

How could he?

She skirted the three large boulders that edged the head of the loch and jumped over the burn that flowed into it with a gurgle as it danced across the stony bottom. In winter, when it was in full spate, she would have had no chance. Now in June, when the nights were short and daylight hours long, the weather was sometimes drier and the burn no more than a trickle.

Cairstine strode up the slopes to where the forest began, her boots giving her purchase on the slippery rocks. It might not have rained recently, but these slopes were always damp and covered in moss. As she walked, she mulled over her papa’s words.

How, how could he?

He had promised her in marriage to an Englishman. An Englishman! Whom she had never met. How draconian. And how undoubtedly, in this so-called enlightened age, unacceptable. Surely she should at least have met the man and decided if this marriage of convenience was for her?

Sadly, her papa had been unmoved by her pleas. He’d simply told her she would leave for England in five days’ time.

England. Who on earth would want to go there? And to a place called Corbridge? Not even London, or Carlisle. Until she’d studied a book of maps in the library she’d had no idea where Corbridge was. Evidently between Newcastle and Carlisle. A market town, near the site of the wall built in Roman times to keep the Scots out of England. What a pity it was no longer used for the same purpose. That would have meant there was no way she could have been forced to head south.

According to a pamphlet she’d found on the desk—it seemed her papa had been investigating—this Corbridge was a pretty well set-up place with lots of new and imposing buildings sitting side by side with older, equally as imposing ones.

She couldn’t have cared less. It wouldn’t matter what it was like, it was not home.

George Armstrong, she thought in disgust. An Armstrong. One of those murdering, thieving Border Reivers of old who had thought nothing of riding from England into Scotland to steal the cattle of good honest Scotsmen—and women. The family names of the marauding bands were still notorious enough to put the fear of God into anyone who lived within a day’s ride of the border even in these modern times. Cairstine had been raised on stories of Scots venturing as far as Yorkshire, and the English to Edinburgh. All in retaliation for some real or imagined wrongdoing. You had to be thankful such days were over—but that made her papa’s demands even harder to fathom.

Worse though than the raids—if it was possible for anything to be worse—Armstrong was a Sassenach with, he was said to boast, not one jot of Scottish blood in him. Where was the common ground?

Why, oh why had her papa thought she’d be happy married to one of them?

If he had thought at all. These last couple of weeks he’d been preoccupied, less likely to chat or ask what she had been doing, and never sharing his day with her. Not at all the man she had adored for so many years.

How could he? Is he demented? When the name of her prospective husband was enough to put fear into even the bravest of people… She was no different.

She shuddered and gathered her breath for the final steep few yards to her favourite place on the estate. The lookout. Where in times gone by a sentry would have been placed to keep guard for enemies.

Now she was the only one who ever went there.

Or so she’d imagined.

Head down, deep in thought, she ploughed into a tree.

A very human tree, which swayed before it steadied again.

She scowled. Of all the people it could be it had to be Duncan Callander. Her neighbour, her…her what? She had no idea except that he was the one man who made her skin tighten in an arousing way and made her wonder…what if?

A child of the countryside, she was no stranger to the way animals mated and had on more than one occasion caught sight of a man and a woman in the undergrowth, the lady’s skirts kilted around her waist, his trews around his ankles. It wasn’t something she’d contemplated doing herself though—until recently.

“Where’s where the enemy? Who do I have to shoot?” Duncan grabbed her arm with one hand to rescue her from falling on her rump, put his other hand to his forehead and scanned the area with an extravagant movement. “Pistol or bow and arrow?”

Cairstine giggled. Trust Duncan to cheer her up. “The culprit is too far to reach with either,” she said glumly as she smoothed her skirts down and remembered what had sent her to the lookout in a rush. “In England, at a place called Corbridge.”

“Corbridge?” he said as he dropped his hand from his face. The confusion in his eyes mirrored the incredulous tone of his voice. “Why in hades Corbridge? What the hell’s going on?”

Cairstine sighed. “Hell just about sums it up. My papa says I am to marry the black-hearted devil that is George Armstrong.”

Duncan’s jaw clenched as she said the name. George Armstrong of Corbridge…the bastard! Not that he had ever met the man, but the fame—or infamy—of the Armstrong family was well known and noted in the annals of history. Around a hundred years earlier they had been given a baronetcy—under somewhat suspicious circumstances—and they revelled in their reputation.

Blood raced through his veins at the thought of Cairstine in the clutches of such a man. She stood close enough to kiss, her lips mere inches from his own. Another part of his anatomy stirred deep within his trews with an emotion other than anger. The heady scent of her teased his nostrils and he sniffed the air. Violets, he decided—sweet and seductively entrancing like the lady herself.

He dropped his hands to his sides against an urge to sweep her into his arms and assure her he would not allow the marriage to take place. He was powerless to prevent it—Cairstine’s father’s title being higher ranked in the natural order than his own. What was he, as an earl compared to a duke? Instead he concentrated on not curling his hands into fists and asked with a calmness he didn’t feel, “When and where is this event to take place?”

Cairstine gazed at him, a question written in her eyes as if she sensed the power of the emotions running through his body. “I leave for Corbridge in five days. Oh, Duncan, something is wrong, and I have no idea what it could be. I have asked Papa to explain his decision, but all he says it I have to do this thing. Why?” She whirled around and her skirts followed her, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of a well-turned ankle visible above her half boot. How he wished it showed more.

Callander, get your mind out of the gutters.

“What on earth could be going on?” Cairstine asked in a plaintive tone that hit him hard. “Duncan, I’m at my wit’s end. I cannot move him.”

Duncan nodded, his mind busy with possible plans, and he turned to one side, needing time to think of ways and means to execute them as well as considering the likely consequences. “Stay strong. I’m off to check my snares and have a think. Don’t worry, I will see you again before you go. Can you be here at the same time tomorrow?”

Cairstine nodded. “I will make sure I am.”

Duncan nodded. “Until then.” He spun on his heels and set off in the direction of his manor a mile or so distant on the opposite hill, his thoughts in a whirl.

What in hades is her father up to? To date, the Duke of Glenard, known as Lord Nathaniel McColl in these parts, had been a loving and somewhat protective father to his only daughter.

He strode on. The smell of pine resin carried on the warmth of the June breeze replaced the scent of violets in his nose, but Duncan hardly noticed as he began to gather his thoughts. A rescue plan was needed, one that would absolve Cairstine from all blame so as not to leave her in her parent’s bad graces. Or give any hint of collusion between the two of them. She should not guess his part in it, to allow her to answer with perfect honesty if questioned later by her father.

A bold idea occurred and he quickened his pace while contemplating the prospects and pitfalls of it. A disguise would be required so she didn’t immediately recognise him. It would ruin everything if she inadvertently gave his identity away to anyone with her. Plus, he needed to decide on a place of safety for her to pass the time until his plan achieved its aim.

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About the Authors

Raven McAllan

After 30 plus years in Scotland, Raven now lives near the east Yorkshire coast, with her long-suffering husband, who is used to rescuing the dinner, when she gets immersed in her writing, keeping her coffee pot warm and making sure the wine is chilled.

With a new home to decorate and a garden to plan, she’s never short of things to do, but writing is always at the top of her list.

Her other hobbies include walking along the coast and spotting the wildlife, reading, researching, cros stitch and trying not to drop stitches as she endeavours to knit.

Being left-handed, and knitting right-handed, that’s not always easy.

She loves hearing from her readers, either via her website, by email or social media.

Cassie O’Brien

I love:

Being with family and friends.

Writing and having the freedom to do so now child four of four has passed her driving test and is off to uni later this year.

I Like:

Any excuse to throw a party.

Any excuse to open a bottle of fizz.

Shoes in vast quantities – the higher the heel the better.

Ambitions:

To write many more books.

To own a pair of Louboutin’s.

To never go near an iron or a hoover again.

You can find Cassie on Facebook and follow her on Twitter: @cassieo_author

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Oct 18

Audio Release Blitz ~ The Jock Script by Lane Hayes (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title: The Jock Script

Series: The Script Club #3

Author: Lane Hayes

Publisher: Lane Hayes

Release Date: Sept. 24, 2021

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 250

Genre: Romance, Bisexual, Jock and Nerd, Romantic Comedy, Coming Out, Humor

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Synopsis

The nerd, the coach, and the hookup…

Asher-

Swipe left, swipe left, swipe left. Sure, the idea of a quick, no-strings intimate rendezvous via hookup app sounds oddly thrilling, but it’s simply not me. Or maybe it is me, because it happened…and I liked it. Until I realized he looked familiar for a reason. A bad reason. Now I’ve made a faux pas with the sexiest man on planet Earth, and my internal karma system requires me to fix it. Help!

Blake-

I may seem like I have it together, but the truth is, I’m a hot mess. I’m so deep in the closet that I can’t remember my real name some days. That’s okay. The benefit of one-night stands is anonymity. Until Asher. Not a total surprise. I’ve always had a thing for geeks, but I’ve never met anyone like him. He’s a pint-sized dynamo on a quest for perfection who can help me come out…if I follow his script.

Hmm. I’m in.

The Jock Script is an MM bisexual, geek/jock romance starring a bowtie wearing nerd, a sexy lacrosse coach, and a shenanigan inducing script!

Excerpt

Asher closed his mouth in a tight line and sighed. “We should change the topic. Every time I’m with you, I secure my spot in Hades.”

I threw my head back and laughed. “What’s with you and the guilty conscience? I admire your commitment to honesty, Ash, but I don’t think it’s healthy to punish yourself after the fact. Not to mention, your rules seem arbitrary. They don’t make sense.”

“Sure, they do.”

“Hmph. You say sex is a part of nature, and you’re happy to discuss it until your internal sex-o-meter overloads and you decide you’ve overstepped some invisible boundary. It’s like you want to punish yourself for no good reason.”

Asher opened and closed his mouth. “I don’t do that.”

I polished off my salad, pushed my plate aside, and reached for my wineglass. “Yeah, you do. You should give yourself a break once in a while.”

“Says the devil incarnate.”

“Who me?” I flashed a roguish grin. “I’m not so bad, and you don’t have to be so good. Is this the remnants of a super religious upbringing or—”

“Oh, gosh, no. My mother is a hippie. She’s not judgmental at all.”

“Then why—”

“I’m just weird, Blake.”

His tone was firm rather than sharp and sent a strong message that he’d prefer to drop the subject. In fact, he looked suspiciously eager to greet the waiter when he returned to clear our salad dishes and set dinner plates on the table. I observed his animated hand gestures, his starched collar, and perfectly straight bow tie, wondering what he was hiding under all that armor.

Asher wasn’t weird, he was—okay, fine…he was totally weird. But I had a feeling he was compensating too. Making up for something or glossing over an unseen flaw. Sort of like a kid standing guard over a lamp he’d busted by accident. No one would notice as long as he made sure the unblemished side was never shown.

Call me crazy, but that got me. Yes, I was very attracted to him and definitely wanted to get naked and horizontal with him ASAP. But I wanted to know him too. I wanted to peel away his protective layers and study his quirks. His internal system of checks and balances fascinated me.

I twirled my fork around my pasta and smiled. “You know, I’m no devil and anyone who sucks dick like you cannot be an angel. There’s got to be a good middle ground for us.”

“Yes. As friends.”

“Right,” I agreed, shifting in my seat to adjust my cock when he hummed around a mouthful of pasta. No joke, my dick woke up at the mention of alien sex and was now stretching the seam of my zipper. I sipped my wine and willed my body to get the “friend” memo. “So, buddy…since we’re supposed to be spending time together now, I think you should come to my game next weekend.”

“Game,” he repeated, drawing out the single syllable into two. “The one you coach? Or do you play also?”

“I play with a club team, but our season ended a couple of weeks ago. We’re on a break till summer, which is fine ’cause my kids have finals and my girls’ team is in the last stretch before CIFs.”

“I don’t understand that acronym, but I’ll come to your game and maybe afterward we can do power tool…things.”

“Sounds like a date. The game is at ten at Westgate. I’ll text you the address.”

“Okay. I have questions, like…where do I sit and what should I wear? Also, what are the rules?”

I smiled. “Sit wherever you want and wear whatever you want. The idea is to have fun. Well…and to kick OC Lutheran’s ass. As for the rules…the goal is to put the ball in the net more times than our opponent. You’ll be able to follow along.”

He didn’t look convinced. “I’ll do some research. Now, what about us? Do you want me to be there and not speak or…are you going to introduce me? And if so, what will you say? I need to rehearse my lines.”

“Lines? This isn’t a play, Ash. We’re friends.”

“No, we’re not. We hardly know each other.”

I frowned. “Then we need to fix that ’cause I’m going to introduce you as my friend. It’s less complicated that way.”

“And if someone asks where we met, I’m allowed to improvise, correct?” he teased. taking a big bite of pasta.

Too big of a bite. He slurped a rogue piece of tagliatelle with wide eyes, then covered his mouth with his napkin. It was pretty freaking cute. I pointed at the sauce on his cheek.

When he swiped at the wrong side, I hooked my finger and motioned for him to lean in. I wiped his cheek with my thumb, underestimating the intimacy of the gesture. The strong current of heat and desire sizzling between us threw me off guard, rendering me speechless.

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Meet the Author

Lane Hayes loves a good romance! An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters. Her debut novel was a 2013 Rainbow Award finalist and subsequent books have received Honorable Mentions, and were winners in the 2016, 2017, and 2018-2019 Rainbow Awards. She loves red wine, chocolate and travel (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband in a not quite empty nest.

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Oct 15

Cover Reveal: Ice Angels by Ryan Taylor & Joshua Harwood

 

Ice Angels

By Ryan Taylor & Joshua Harwood

Cover Created by : Cate Ashwood

Release Date: Oct 29th 2021

Available to Preorder at Amazon

Drew and Cleevs love hockey, but they love each other more. How can the men find a way to save what matters most?

Todd Cleever and Drew Simon are crazy about each other. They started dating three years ago when “Cleevs” was a rookie defenseman for the Chicago Ice. Drew, the team’s captain, was a few years older than Cleevs. Both men were deep in the closet, but it didn’t take long for them to fall in love.

Cleevs was traded to the Bethesda Barracudas a year later, causing a heartbreaking separation. Ever since, they’ve skated around the problem with occasional stolen nights together and brief vacations under the guise of “friends,” but two years of living apart have taken their toll.

As the holiday approaches, Drew and Cleevs decide things have to change. Still, with their careers and two professional hockey teams in the way, how can they score the game-winning goal and save everything they cherish most?

If you like fierce love, a smallish age gap, exciting hockey, and a steely determination to make things work—not to mention enough steam to fog up all your windows and a fantastic HEA—this is the book for you. The novella contains about 43,000 words of sparkling holiday romance.

About the Authors

Ryan Taylor and Joshua Harwood met in law school and were married in 2017. They live in a suburb of Washington, DC and share their home with a big, cuddly German shepherd. Ryan and Josh enjoy travel, friends, and advocating for causes dear to their hearts. Ryan also loves to swim, and Josh likes to putter in the garden whenever he can. The romance they were so lucky to find with each other inspires their stories about love between out and proud men.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Ryan Taylor | Joshua Harwood | Instagram | eMail

 

Oct 15

Book Blitz: A Sacrament of Sin by Matthew Angelo (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  A Sacrament of Sin

Series: The Midnight Agency #4

Author: Matthew Angelo

Publisher: Self-Published

Release Date: October 15th, 2021

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: No Romance

Length: 30k

Genre: Fantasy, Horror, Science Fiction, Paranormal, shifter, urban fantasy

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Synopsis

Working as a paranormal private investigator has its trials. I’m busy, which is excellent, but there are more people, alive and otherwise, after me than ever before. The Other Side has stepped up their game. The Fallen are trying to strong-arm me into joining their ranks; they feel I’m the perfect person to aid in their eventual rise to world power, and they don’t give a damn what I have to say about it. Then there’s the Catholic Church. Apparently, they’ve painted a giant bullseye on my back. That keeps you looking over your shoulder, I’ll tell you.

Oh, and did I mention the bastard who abandoned my mother and me when I was born wants to repair a relationship we never had in the first place?

Just another day in the life of Rian MacCaren—that’s me, by the way. I solve mysteries, and I see things… things other people don’t. First, dreams plagued me. Now they’ve escalated to visions. Aside from keeping myself alive, my next step is to use my gift, or curse however you want to look at it, to figure out who killed the woman we just discovered in the basement of an abandoned house. Who was she, and why is she dressed in a wedding gown?

Excerpt

I heard laughter from the other side of the screen. It wasn’t the kind that speaks of madness, but the evil supervillain type. While I love the sound of truth, this sound chilled me to the bones and left me unclean.

“Sister Catherine…I should’ve known. As for you, my little angel, I’ll send you back to heaven.”

“Not today, buddy.”

A ripping sound hit my ears as a clawed hand burst through the screen and wrapped around my neck. It pulled me through the wall that divided the confessional. I tried to struggle out of its grip, but the preacher held on for all he’s worth.<em> Yeah, that’s gonna leave a mark</em>.

I kicked at his face in the hope he’d release his hold over my throat. “Sorry, but choking isn’t my thing.”

The priest slammed me against the wall, knocking what air I did have out of my lungs in one exhale. I switched the safety off my gun and tried to raise it. Let me tell you that trying to fight for your life while being choked wasn’t that easy. I tried, though. <em>Look at me being all optimistic and shit</em>.

The father saw the gun. His eyes widened in anger as if the weapon was an insult to the sanctuary of the church. I may have had a gun, but I wasn’t a pedophile molesting kids and stealing their life force from them. Nope, I was a simple angel trying to get by in the world. By get by, I mean shoot the bad guy and rescue the children, thereby being the hero that saves the day.

Whoever the priest had become gripped me harder and threw me through the confessional door with one movement. The cracking of the wood against my back hurt, and the sound of screaming reached my ears. What hurt the most was hitting the floor and sliding across the carpet. I also heard the sound of my gun as it fell from my hand, bumping into something.

Movement from in front of me caught my attention. I attempted to get up, but the ceiling above me spun like a top, and vertigo kept me from moving too much. Massaging my neck, I could breathe easier, but the joy of still being alive didn’t last long.

There he stood. The possessed priest looked like a devil out of a bad <em>CW</em> series. Both his arms stretched longer than natural and ended in clawed, veiny hands. The skin on his face looked tighter and a bit like leather. The look someone gets after they tan in one of those cancer coffins too long.

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Meet the Author

Matthew Angelo is a part-time writer, dog trainer, and photo enthusiast in the Northern Colorado area. In his free time, providing he has any, he practices Krav Maga, reads, and continues writing. He has written fantasy, science fiction, and urban fantasy stories amongst others.

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Oct 13

New Release Blitz: Trials by Sean Ian O’Meidhir, Connal Braginsky (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Trials

Series: Crossing Nuwa, Book Two

Author: Sean Ian O’Meidhir, Connal Braginsky

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 10/11/2021

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 50700

Genre: Paranormal, LGBTQIA+, shifter, shapeshifter, snake shifter, mage, interracial, hacker, conspiracy, wizard, rescue, bear, technomage, paranormal, urban fiction, snake, weresnake, plus sized, personal growth, Thanksgiving

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Description

With the help of technomage and hacker Theo, rare snake shifter Robbie escaped his mother and clan, who planned to use him as breeding stock. While still working to break through the conditioning and mind control of his past, Robbie is enjoying exploring a new relationship with the worldlier Theo.

But their fight isn’t over yet.

A trip to his aunt’s house for Thanksgiving is highjacked by political intrigue, leaving the couple wondering who their friends really are. They cannot help but be drawn into larger plots while trying to find justice for Robbie at his mother’s trial. When clan rivalries turn deadly, they’ll need their allies—and each other—more than ever.

This is the second book in the Crossing Nüwa series and a continuation of Robbie and Theo’s growth and struggles.

Excerpt

Trials
Sean Ian O’Meidhir, Connal Braginsky © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
THEO

Enjoying the weightlessness as the plane lifted into the air, I studied my boyfriend as he excitedly watched the world shrink below us. His enthusiasm for everything sent sympathetic thrills through me, and I was soon grinning.

It had been an unexpectedly blissful couple of months with only one small hiccup. A week after Robbie moved in, for some strange reason I felt the need to define the parameters of our relationship. It was a first for both of us. Many firsts. I was his first everything; he was my first boyfriend. I can’t remember how the conversation started but vaguely recall me saying that I’d like to get some clarification.

“We haven’t really talked about us.”

“What do you mean?” he had asked, his lips naturally curved curiously. One of the things I learned was that Robbie is never plagued with the same doubts about relationships that it seems like the rest of us have. Or at least that I have had my entire life. He’s wholesome, and I know how that sounds, but it’s true. His very nature is one of trust and acceptance.

He had never experienced any doubt until I stupidly said, “Well, exclusivity, monogamy, I don’t know. Just curious what you want.”

“I don’t understand. You’re my boyfriend…” Though his curiosity had turned to confusion, I pressed on.

“Yeah, but that’s for now. I just don’t want you to feel held back. You know, if you want to bang someone and—”

He shook his head, his confusion intensifying and darkening into something else. “Why are you saying this?”

“I just don’t want to break up over—”

“Break up? Why…Why would we ever break up?” His emerald eyes had shone with tears that had made my heart immediately ache. I had done that to him. If I live to be a thousand years old, that look will always haunt me. That with a simple and quite stupid misspoken phrase I could hurt him so much.

“Why are you frowning?” Robbie took my hand, his voice colored with concern as he lifted me out of my reverie.

I chuckled. “Ah, sugar…just remembering how foolish I was.”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific,” he said with the sweetest smile that had me falling back laughing. My boyfriend had quickly caught on to sarcasm and the importance of a good burn.

I shook my head at myself. “You remember that conversation we had when you first moved in? The one about monogamy?”

“Yeah, when you pointed out that I’m only eighteen and had only…how did you put it? ‘Boned one guy’? That you thought you were holding me back?” he asked, relaxing as he settled.

“Yeah. That’s it. And you turned it around and asked if you were holding me back.”

“And you said no, because you’re a slut who was settling down.” Robbie was on a roll.

I laughed again. “Not…quite. Anyway, I was just remembering that.”

“I thought your talk with Kat had fixed all that?” he asked curiously.

I sat up so quickly I almost gave myself whiplash. Robbie just smiled knowingly. “Oh yeah, I heard the whole thing.”

I guess Kat had watched me mope after I left Robbie. I had brought my laptop to the comfortable bucket chair of the custom outdoor patio and plopped down. And I had had no clue Robbie was around.

Kat had just settled into the adjacent bucket, tucked her legs up under her, and gave me one of those serene “I’m here to listen” expressions.

“Look,” I finally grunted out. “I broached the subject with Robbie that he would probably be moving on from here, from me someday, and wanted to let him know I was fine. Had just… I don’t know, fuck, wanted him to know I’d rather have him bang someone else and not break up.”

Her look had mirrored Robbie’s to an extent. Confusion. Sadness. But also compassion and understanding. “You’re afraid of losing him.” It was clearly stated and absolute truth that had cut to the bone.

“She told you to get your head out of your ass,” he reminded me of the exact words she went on to say, and I realized he was still holding my hand.

I chuckled and tilted my head to him. “Indeed, she did. She said a lot of things…”

“Like how your first boyfriend broke your heart?” he said so softly I barely heard it.

“We were kids. I thought it was more than it was.”

“She pointed out that you were scared of me leaving too,” Robbie said, swallowing hard. A shadow crossed over his eyes.

“Yeah,” I admitted lamely. Kat and I had talked about how amazing Robbie was, and she had made me come to terms with the fact that I was a big scared baby. Hell, he had heard all that?

“Theo, I know that I’m not worthy of being with you, but I’m glad we’re together,” Robbie said earnestly, causing my heart to drop.

“Not worthy—what are you talking about?”

“You and Kat. You talked about how amazing you thought I was, but I’m not. I don’t feel like that at all. You’re the amazing one.” Robbie’s eyes lit up, and he gave me that radiant smile he saves just for me. A smile that would often disappear into something more reserved if someone else was around.

Patting his hand, I said, “Guess we can both think the other is perfect, huh?”

He nodded eagerly, joy returning to his eyes when he leaned over and gave me a small kiss on the cheek. I turned my attention to the window, tilting my chin to it, silently acknowledging he should continue his enjoyment of the world outside so I could continue my internal mental review of the last couple of months.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Sean Ian O’Meidhir is a psychologist who lives in San Francisco, California. Sean is a hedonist who believes in living for today, living every day to the fullest, and enjoying as much as possible. Sean has been gaming since adolescence and has written about and played hundreds of lives, reveling in the chance to take on new personalities, dramas, even disorders.

Connal Braginsky is a software engineer who lives in San Diego, California. Diagnosed with high functioning autism, Connal sometimes struggles in social situations, but has an inner world that is always incredibly rich. With an insatiable thirst for knowledge about many esoteric things, Connal brings a lot of personal philosophies and interests to writing.

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Oct 12

New Release Blitz ~ Love’s Gamble by Hayden West (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Love’s Gamble by Hayden West

Book 2 in the City of Fountains series

General Release Date: 12th October 2021

Word Count:  15,774
Book Length: NOVELLA
Pages: 68

Genres:

CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
MYSTERY

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Book Description


Moving home can be worth the gamble…

What begins as one anonymous night with a stranger swiftly becomes more to retired parajumper Deacon “Lobo” Williams. Back home, he has an intimate and powerful encounter with a man he doesn’t even stop to learn the name of. Unable to keep it just one night, he comes back for more.

Blackjack dealer Joe Chavez is far more comfortable with his sexuality than the man he has begun seeing. There are plenty of demons for them both, but if they want to make this work, they will have to decide if love’s gamble is enough.

Reader advisory: This book contains mentions of PTSD, violence, attempted rape and reference to suicidal thoughts.

Excerpt

“Yes! Come on, Ben. You got this!”

Deacon “Lobo” Williams cut his gaze to his sister as she jumped up and down, screaming as her blonde hair bounced. The last thing he’d expected to be doing on his first night home was hanging out with Debra at a National Rodeo event in their town.

Smiling at her, he shook his head. “Know him, do you?” He turned his gaze to one of the few black men who was participating in this event. Ben Mooney was a steer wrestler and was the favorite to win this event.

“I do. His sister and I have been friends for years. She wasn’t able to come tonight so wanted to make sure he had some support.” She turned her baby blues to him. “Are you mad I made you come?”

He wasn’t mad, but he had been hoping for a quieter venue. He was edgy and knew it was from the lack of sleep he’d been getting. Nightmares and PTSD were shit and since he’d ditched his therapist, it was something he was wading through on his own.

I don’t need help.

Or so he continued to tell himself.

The crowd roared and she whipped back to the arena and screamed even louder. Pumping her fist in the air, she chanted, “Ben! Ben! Ben!” She put her fingers in her mouth and whistled.

He’d taught her that when she’d been in middle school, how to put two fingers in her mouth and release a piercing whistle. He had been so proud of her for that and, damn it, he still was. Her joy was contagious and he cheered along with her, not quite with as much enthusiasm, but loudly.

The moment the score populated on the marquee sign, the crowd got louder. When they settled down, the event continued. “Nope, not mad.” He never wanted her to feel like crap because his life had fallen into the shitter. “When did you meet his sister and where?”

She nudged him with her shoulder. “I met her in college and like I said, years ago.” Debra yanked his drink from him and indulged. “We worked the same late shift at a shitty gas station and grew close. I met Ben the first holiday I went to her house.”

He remembered the year she spoke about, one where he hadn’t been able to come home. As it was just the two of them now, having lost their parents three years apart after he’d reupped with the Air Force, he’d felt horrible.

“Is she coming here this year?”

“I don’t know, we typically head to Vegas together to watch him in the finals. I can ask her. Are you sure you’re going to be home this year?” She applauded the latest competitor before looking at him once more. “It would be pointless for me to invite her to meet you if aren’t going to be there.”

He pushed back the bitterness and forced lightness into his tone. “I’m sure I’ll be home.”

There must have been something in his tone, for she angled her body toward him. “Deacon? What aren’t you telling me?”

How he’d hoped to have this conversation over a tumbler of scotch or a few beers. More like both. Not here at a rodeo. And he needed it to be his version. He opened his mouth and closed it the second she shook her head.

“Don’t lie to me, Deacon. I’m your sister. I, of all people, deserve to know the truth.”

He brushed his hand along her face, allowing himself to remember it was okay to be soft and gentle. If there was one person in the world who could bring that out in him, it was his baby sister. His only sister. “I know. But can you wait until after we get home? It’s not really a discussion I relish having here.” And it would give him time to get his lie straight in his head so it fell from his lips in a plausible fashion.

She didn’t speak for a bit, just stared at him. Holding still, he waited until she found what she sought. If she insisted on doing this here, he would, he just didn’t want to. The truth wasn’t coming out. That was going to be his own private hell. The bad landing, the surgeries, the loss of his career. Nightmares and more. Yeah, no thanks, he wasn’t about to open up that can of worms because someone wanted to share.

“Okay.”

That was it. Debra faced the arena once more. He loved her. After everything had finished and people filed out, she put her arm through his and together they headed down from their seats. He watched her interact with people as they made their way to wherever she wanted to take him.

There were cameras and people milling around. She pushed up on her toes, waved and called out, “Ben!”

The lanky but fit black man walked up, an inherent swagger in his step that wasn’t something anyone could have taught him. It was natural.

Ben’s smile grew as he looked at Debra. “Debbie-girl.”

Deacon cocked an eyebrow at that. His sister had always told him how much she hated nicknames. But this one seemed to make her glow.

He watched his sister launched herself into Ben’s arms. Brotherly instincts flared at the thought of a grown man holding her like that. It didn’t get better when he kissed her cheek.

When Debra stepped back, she retained hold of his hand. Deacon noticed how her entire being sparkled.

“Ben, this is my big brother, Deacon. Deacon, Ben Mooney.”

His smile never slipped, nor did his hold on Debra’s hand. Ben offered his other hand. Deacon shook it, pleased with the grip.

“Nice to meet you.”

A brilliant smile showed off a slightly crooked smile. “And you. Your sister mentions you a lot.”

Debra blushed. Behind them, other women looked at Ben and his sister with a mixture of expressions. He ignored them, focusing on the two before him.

“She’s a good sister, I guess.”

Ben laughed, full-bodied and true. “I get that. God do I. I have one too. But this one has joined in all the trouble my sister causes. I look at her as my own sister now. Hope that doesn’t bother you.”

“Not at all. She can always use more eyes on her.”

“Hey,” she protested.

“We were going to grab some dinner. Do you have plans or would you like to join us?” The affection between his sister and Ben was blatant. They could talk later if she wanted, but right now, he was enjoying the sparkle in her eyes.

“If you’re sure it’s not an imposition, I would love to. Kind of a thing we do, but I know you just got back.” Deacon raised an eyebrow. Ben shrugged. “My sister, the other one, told me. I think she and Debra talk daily.”

“Sometimes more than once,” she snarked.

“Let’s go then.” Deacon liked him already and looked forward to getting to know him better.

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About the Author

Hayden West

Hayden West lives in the Pacific Northwest, enjoys being outdoors, and hanging out with friends when not working on the next novella to be released.

Find Hayden at their website and blog.

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Oct 12

New Release Blitz ~ Basic Witch by Katy Hunter (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Basic Witch by Katy Hunter

Book 1 in the Half Blood series

General Release Date: 12th October 2021

Word Count: 15,310
Book Length: SHORT STORY
Pages: 68
 Heat Rating: Sizzling 

Genres:

ANGELS AND DEMONS
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS
PARANORMAL

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Book Description

Sometimes being an angel can be devilish…

Cal has problems…man problems. A torrid affair with Travis, a six-foot sex demon, has the celestial beings in a tizzy and she has been forced to make amends.

That’s the issue with having an angel for a dad. There are certain expectations—not to mention the fact that she’s also sharing her bed with a rather delicious warlock, Max. All she has to do is round up a few troublesome vampires and a rotten demon here or there and her work is done.

Or so she thinks…

Reader advisory: This book contains a brief scene of violence.

Excerpt

He slammed my slender wrists against the cold, hard wall, closely followed by my back. “You like it rough, huh?” I growled. “Me too.”

Lifting my legs into the air, I wrapped them around his impressive waist, gripping on as tight as I could and thrusting his crotch into mine. The guy is already hard? This was going to be easier than I thought.

“I like it quiet.” It was the first time his voice had even given a hint of who—or rather what—I was dealing with. It offered a tinge of menace, a heavy serving of control. We were definitely in demon territory.

He slammed his lips onto mine, the familiar feeling of a forked tongue snaking its way into my mouth.

He raised my wrists above my head, so he could hold them with one hand, and he started to undo his belt with the other.

I relaxed my grip around his waist and pulled my mouth away from his. This was going way faster than I’d thought. I wasn’t averse to a little demon dick, but my own personal demon was quite against me sleeping with his brothers.

“Not yet.” What would work? He could take me right here, right now, but I needed just a couple of more minutes. “Uh, I want to be punished. Punish me first.”

His fiery red eyes lit up and I swear the cock that was pushing into my pelvis grew another five inches. “Have you been very, very bad?”

“So bad.” Like you wouldn’t believe.

Swinging me around, he flung me onto the bed and grabbed his backpack. Lord, don’t let it be teeth. I could handle whipping, pinching, slapping—even the odd candle burn didn’t break me—but oh God, I hated it when they went for the teeth.

He pulled out a leather three-tiered paddle. Oh, bless him. He must be new at this. I put on my most innocent face. “It won’t hurt too much, will it? I know I’ve been naughty, but I’ve never done anything like this before.” Where are the boys? If that thing hit my butt in just the right spot, I’d be coming in seconds and begging for more.

I hadn’t actually planned on sleeping with this guy, but he was pushing all my buttons. It would be too hard to resist.

He rolled me over onto my stomach, brushed his hand up my thigh, grazing my stockings, and pushed up my skirt. Swirling his hand around my butt—preparing it for action—he slid his finger slowly under the gusset of my thong, brushing my clit.

“You like that?” His voice was tender, almost gentle.

Fuck. This big old hulking hellboy was actually a bit of a romantic. Now I knew his lineage for sure.

“Not yet… I don’t want to come yet. I don’t deserve it.” I was really working the naughty voice tonight. A shiver of disgust went down my spine. When I was at someone’s mercy, it was generally on my terms, not theirs.

Not that I was complaining… There were worse missions than getting a little action with a sex demon.

He grabbed a pair of handcuffs from his bag, the familiar clinking sending a jolt of excitement up my pussy. When did I get so hot just at the idea of a little bondage? It wasn’t like my sex life was in any way boring. Quite the contrary. Maybe I was craving simpler times.

He leaned forward, attached my hands to the iron headboard and hovered over my body, the bulk of his cock rubbing against my naked butt.

The sound of hulking footsteps approached the door. I braced myself. A loud boom knocked the door straight through. The gang was finally here.

Travis grabbed hellboy by the throat and pushed him against the wall. He muttered a Latin word or two and, within seconds, the infernal fires had reclaimed their runaway.

A warm, smooth hand slid between my legs and a finger entered my pussy.

“What the hell, Cal? You’re wet enough for me to take you right now,” said Max, still breathless from charging into the room.

“Max, sweetheart, be a dear. Take your fingers out of me and undo these cuffs before you fuck me.”

Travis muttered something about being the only one who did any work and sauntered out of the room.

The cuffs unlocked themselves and I rolled over to face my beautiful Max, my Mediterranean magic man. He fluttered those long, dark eyelashes at me and bent down to peck me on the lips.

“You took your time,” I mumbled through his kiss.

“You’re on a fucking yacht, Cal, in St. Tropez.”

“What?” How the hell did I get here?

He closed his eyes and shook his head in despair. “You know how Trav gets in small boats. I had to row us here myself.”

“We really need to teach that man to teleport.”

He grinned, maliciously. “We need to get ourselves a decent demon.”

“You’re just jealous.”

“Not right now, I’m not.” He clasped my thighs. A few mumbled magic words and my thong was gone. “Right now, I’m about to finish what some other demon started.”

Buy Links

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First For Romance

About the Author

Katherine E Hunt

Katy Hunter lives on a mountain in France with her husband, kids and two dogs.

When she’s not writing you can find her curled up in front of the fire, book in one hand and a glass of chardonnay in the other.

Follow Katy on Instagram and sign up to her Facebook reader’s group. You can also find her on Facebook and follow her on Twitter

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Oct 11

New Release Blitz: Deranged by Jennifer Claire (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Deranged

Author: Jennifer Claire

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 10/11/2021

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 56200

Genre: Paranormal, LGBTQIA+, dark, demons, friends to lovers, paranormal, new adult, polyamory

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Description

When three girls are bound by more than just their weight, they find out that their destinies are darker than they expected.

A corruption lies deep within their souls that no one expected to find there, and the trauma of it unleashes an evil from within that none of them can endure alone.

Together, they might just prevail against the encroaching flames.

Excerpt

Deranged
Jennifer Claire © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Kaitlyn

“Eat your meat, please, Katie.”

I glared at her over the metal of my fork that I was using to push the food around on my plate.

There she went again, always trying to sound more and more like a mother every day. But she would never sound like my mother. No one ever would.

At least I had gotten through the green beans on my plate, which was something. But they had been shaken in a dish of brown sugar, making them taste like candy, and I’ve never had a problem with candy. I couldn’t help but go over and over again in my head how many calories were in each cut of that steak that they had chosen to waste on me.

There was no way I could eat it.

My photographer had told me I was perfect just the way I was. He had come to my door that night, gone inside to find me, and died, along with everyone else I ever loved and cared about.

The nightmares haunted me do this every day.

I still imagined this guy being with me, but I had never been in love, so I don’t know where that one thought in particular came from.

There I go again, losing track of what I was thinking about.

“Katie?”

“It’s Kaitlyn,” I corrected her for the jillionth time, finally putting my fork down to look at her fully. She thought she knew me, but she didn’t.

“Hun, no agency is going to offer you a job unless you take proper care of yourself!”

“You don’t know that!” I growled. She didn’t even know what I wanted anymore.

“Katie, please.” She stood up straighter so she wasn’t leaning across the table, just as she was always telling me to do. “I’m your aunt and I love you, but there’s only so much I can put up with… Katie, you used to be such a kind girl before all this, what happened to you—”

She came to a dramatic halt at the end of her sentence, as if only by speaking those words aloud did she realize what they meant.

“I guess it’s too bad I didn’t love you, even then.” That was cruel and I knew it. But I didn’t care or regret it.

I pulled the plate off the table until it fell and shattered at my feet, making a mess of foods and their juices over the gray tiled floor. Giving her one last icy glare, I stormed up to my room.

My aunt was knocking on my door again. And this time I didn’t know of how else to make her go away but to swing the door open as fast as I could while yelling back, “What?”

The action was too fast and made my head spin, but I pushed through the dark spots that swam through my vision just to hear what she had to say.

“Katie? Sweetheart, you’re sick. Please, we need to talk about this some time.”

I rolled my eyes and went to slam the door again, but the breeze from having shut the door so quickly made the door shut slowly and gave her enough time to put both a hand and foot in the way.

“No.” Her voice was firm, done with my bullshit. But she wasn’t as fierce as she thought she was with tears trickling from the corners of her eyes. It gave me a small, strange glee that kept me going. “I am not just going to sit around and watch you starve yourself and waste away into nothing!”

I shrugged. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Just leave and stop caring, and you won’t have to watch.”

If I wasn’t “sick” as she liked to call my disorder, auntie Stephanie would’ve slapped me,

right across the face, but she held herself back for more of her own sake than for mine.

“Katie? I’m only going to say this to you once. The doctors are coming tomorrow on the bus. And if they agree with me that you’re sick? You’re going with them so they can help you get better.”

Letting go of the door, I crossed my arms. “I’m sorry, but was that a question? You wanna fight me on this so badly? Fine. But if they come and they see how paranoid you are? I’m not the one going to the funny farm.”

“It’s not that kind of place, Katie. They’re there to help you, not cage you.”

I wished I could’ve found fault in what she was saying, but I really couldn’t.

So instead of fighting, I lessened my scolding view of her and reached out to shake her hand. “Deal.”

«

Gabriella

As I sat in the tub, my blood colored the water. This was the third time I had been caught trying to kill myself in four months, and no one could understand why.

As if having to stand outside of your family home at fifteen and watch as everyone you love inside cries out and burns alive isn’t reason enough to want to die yourself.

I had refused to eat since then and had to be medically forced through a tube surgically placed to feed nutrition into my stomach, but no one expected me to want to die so badly that I would go through the pain of pulling it out myself.

As I languished in the water, arms reached down to drag me from the bathtub.

«

Makenna

“Pirouette! Pirouette! Pirouette!”

Mrs. Heather clapped in time to the music as I turned.

She was midway through adding another pirouette to her chanting when my ankle gave out beneath me, and I was spinning and falling at the same time toward the hard dusty floor of the stage.

I must have fainted after having hit the floor, although I hadn’t banged my head or anything, but by the time I came back to, I was in the hospital with a hardened cast set around my foot.

The first thing I noticed was the pretty blue signature written across the cast, which made me fall back onto the bed with laughter.

People scurried into the room at the sound, mistaking it for crying. They only relaxed when they came all the way over to see my face.

“Micky! You scared us half to death!”

Charlotte—Mrs. Heather’s daughter and one of my only friends— was in the room. Not that I knew how that had occurred, since she was neither there when it happened, nor was she any family of mine.

“Sorry, I thought I had it—”

She jumped in all angry again before I could go on to tell her why it was that I thought I had messed it up. “Not the spinning, stupid! The doctor said you were dehydrated, and there wasn’t enough muscle in your ankle to support your weight!”

I wanted to yell back, to tell her she didn’t have to be so loud and so rude, but even my eyes were lighting up with moisture that burned every time I blinked.

She stopped when the first tear fell to walk closer and wrap her arms around my neck. I squeezed back, but I barely ruffled the fabric of her sweatshirt.

“You need help,” she cried into my hair, then a sad sound, something akin to laughter escaped me, as she added, “Or we’re never going to get to go on that road trip we’ve been promising Sammy all our lives. Got it?”

I noticed Mrs. Heather then, standing just at the foot of the bed with a hand resting on the cast. She had given me so much since the fire. If I could give her, and Charlotte, anything back, it would be this.

“Okay. I will.”

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Meet the Author

Jennifer Claire is a debut author from Ontario, Canada. She enjoys writing dark urban fantasy along with romance contemporary, and when she’s not reading, can usually be found reading YA or Epic Fantasy novels.

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Oct 11

New Release Blitz: Ground of Resurrection by Mell Eight (Excerpt & Giveaway)

Title:  Ground of Resurrection

Series: Wizard Wars, Book Two

Author: Mell Eight

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 10/11/2021

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 21900

Genre: Fantasy, LGBTQIA+, anthropomorphic, farming, gods, immortal, magic-users, royalty

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Description

Dare used to be the kind of person everyone wanted to be around, the man friends begged to attend their events and relished in his company. However, that was when he was a prince. Now that he’s been captured and confined to the prairie, he’s become the person everyone hates, and it’s a hate he believes he deserves.

But he can’t help hoping he might find at least one friend.

Magic has a convoluted way of answering wishes, and unfortunately, the answer to Dare’s wish might destroy the prairie and every last thing he still holds dear.

Excerpt

Ground of Resurrection
Mell Eight © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Dare hadn’t been given a choice about living on the prairie, but he was doing his best to embrace the life he had. Admittedly, he admired the way of life the villages had created over the last ten years he had been living among them, traveling from village to village. They had grown from separate entities to a cohesive whole that worked together to ensure their survival on the harsh prairie. His life now was completely different from his pampered childhood.

Oakville was the only village on the prairie with access to a forest. The trees were tall and stately and had a nasty habit of lifting their roots out of the ground to trip people as they were walking by. Over the last three weeks, while visiting Oakville, Dare learned to automatically raise his feet high as he walked so he didn’t faceplant.

The villagers were only allowed to cut down a few trees a week with the permission of the prairie. Dare had become part of a very convoluted dance. Every spring, the villagers collected seedlings that had been blown out onto the prairie the previous fall. Those seedlings wouldn’t survive the summer buried underneath the tall grass. Then, before chopping down anything in the forest, the villagers asked the prairie which trees were suitable. Cutting the trees could be harrowing in a forest that had been known to fight back on occasion. The villagers planted one of the seedlings where each old tree used to stand, where they would grow to replace the trees the villagers took.

All the cut wood was eventually distributed throughout the villages in the prairie so they could continue building whatever new homes and businesses they needed. In return, Laketown and Farmtown sent the food they produced. Every village had a purpose on the prairie; as long as Oakville continued to send wood out to the other villages, they would in turn receive the things they needed.

If only the villagers had chosen to be equally pragmatic about Dare’s presence.

“Here’s the rations you worked for,” Olaf said as he ambled into the cleared area. He was careful not to step on any of the seedlings Dare had just planted. Dare took the bag Olaf was holding out to him. A quick glance inside showed a large loaf of bread, a smaller wheel of cheese, and some leafy green things poking out below that.

Dare wasn’t surprised there wasn’t any meat in the bag. Livestock were needed to pull the heavy trees; there weren’t any whose meat could be sacrificed for food. A new village was in the process of being constructed where all sorts of livestock—oxen for the plows and wagons, chickens for eggs, cows and goats for milk and cheese, and sheep for wool—would be kept. With an active surplus from that village being sent out to all the villages, more animals could be used solely for the meat. Until then, Dare and the rest of the villagers lived on a vegetarian diet.

“I was hoping to spend the night and leave in the morning,” Dare began but stopped when Olaf shook his head in denial.

“It’s past time for you to move on to another village, boy,” Olaf said firmly. He turned and walked away, leaving Dare alone in the forest. The rest of the people he had been working with had snuck off while Olaf was talking.

Dare let out a heavy sigh. He would never get used to this. The feelings of abandonment, the churning in his stomach, and the tightness in his chest every time he thought he might be welcomed but was sent away instead. It hurt so very much, but at least he had learned not to cry about it.

Of course, he understood why. He had been a terrible little shit his first year on the prairie. He may have been eighteen years old at the time, but the way he had acted, he might as well have been a child. He had somehow managed to grow up during the last ten years, but the damage had already been done.

Dare was a prisoner of war. Before that, he had lived a life of luxury with his every want and need catered for him. As the prince and heir of the throne of Ammet, the kingdom to the north of the prairie lands, he had been spoiled horribly. Political machinations by the Wizard’s Council that helped rule Ammet had convinced King Mitchell, Dare’s father, to include Dare with the invading troops sent to subdue the prairie. The invasion had failed with terrible consequences. Nearly a thousand men and women had been eaten by the prairie, but Dare had been saved to be a pawn in his uncle Russell’s revenge plan and abandoned in First Village.

Going from luxury to learning how to earn rations had been completely lost on him. When food wasn’t delivered at regular mealtimes, he had thrown tantrum after tantrum until he’d almost starved to death. George, the leader of First Village, had literally tied him to a chair and spoon-fed him soup until Dare recovered. Then George had put a small, palm-sized basket, woven from thick grass, into Dare’s hands and told Dare to fill the basket with precious stones. One full basket meant three meals each day.

Dare had done it, not realizing that leaving the village to walk in the wild prairie was one of the most dangerous jobs in the entire village. He had gotten food and he had watched and learned the way the village worked. Everyone had a task to accomplish each day to earn their keep. No one, George included, was simply given anything for free.

Learning the ways of the prairie was a painfully slow process, but Dare had eventually done it. His airs and spoiled attitude had taken years to throw away. He had felt freer ever since, but by the time the lessons had hit home, it was far too late for him to be accepted. His poor behavior early on had ensured that.

The younger kids in First Village used to dare each other who could prank Dare the worst. Stealing his clothes on washing day and forcing him to return to the village naked. Running into him when he had a full basket, often stealing the basket and the gemstones he had filled it with and ensuring he wasn’t eligible for food the next day. Eventually, they had grown in both age and ability, and Dare had to learn how to defend himself against knife attacks. The dares grew worse and worse until Dare had fled from First Village in desperation.

Yet, the stories of his terrible attitude had spread. He took a new name—he was no longer Prince Michael, even in his own mind, and calling himself Dare seemed poignant after all he had suffered—but people still knew him regardless of what he called himself. He traveled from village to village, staying in each one for only as long as his extra pair of hands and strong back were useful, until he was sent on his way again. After five years living in First Village and five years wandering, Dare wasn’t welcome anywhere.

If Dare had thought he could survive on his own, he would have abandoned the villages well before now, striking out into the prairie, but there was no food in the prairie, so he needed the villages.

Well, Dare thought firmly to himself as he tucked his bag of food into his pack with his other personal belongings. That’s life now. Where should I go next? He pulled his sword belt down from the low branch he had hung it on that morning and settled it into place around his hips. The last vestiges of his previous life hung in his sword. He wasn’t trained to use a knife, and his magic wasn’t offensive in nature, only defensive: a sword kept him safe so Dare held on to it.

He hadn’t been east in a while. Over a year had passed since he had last worked for a few short weeks at the village near the Great Bone Canyon. Hopefully, they would be ready to stomach having him nearby for a while again.

Dare took a deep breath, then turned so his back was to the setting sun and started walking

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

When Mell Eight was in high school, she discovered dragons. Beautiful, wondrous creatures that took her on epic adventures both to faraway lands and on journeys of the heart. Mell wanted to create dragons of her own, so she put pen to paper. Mell Eight is now known for her own soaring dragons, as well as for other wonderful characters dancing across the pages of her books. While she mostly writes paranormal or fantasy stories, she has been seen exploring the real world once or twice.

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