Friday, 18 August 2017

Lost Within by Jaelyn LaStoria



Title: Lost Within
Author: Jennifer Domenico writing as Jaelyn LaStoria
Genre: Adult Time Travel Romance
Cover Designer: Wicked by Design
Publication Date: Oct. 12th, 2017



What happens when two women, five hundred years apart, switch places?


~Aven~

As an archeologist, my life is spent uncovering mysteries from the past. Each year spent digging in the dirt fuels my dream to find something that will change my life.

And then it happens—that life changing event I never imagined could be true. Somehow I ended up five hundred years in the past. Lost Within a world I only read about in history books.

Every moment is spent unraveling this mystery and trying to go home. But there’s a snag. I just might fall for the man I’m supposed to marry. The question now is once I figure out how to get back home, will I want to?


~Lucia~

I thought I had rid myself of it. I was certain my unexpected journeys through time were over. I was wrong, and now the unthinkable has happened. Again. This time though, I did not cause it.

I ended up five hundred years in the future. Lost Within a world I don’t recognize. My fate and return home lie in the hands of the woman whose life I now lead, and all I can do is wait.

Every moment is spent confused and longing for home. But there is a problem. Two men valiantly fight for my heart, and I might just fall for one or both of them before this is all over. The question now is once I have the chance to go home, will I want to?

Lost Within - A modern love story with a twist.



Excerpt:

“Lucia,” Caterina calls. “Cosimo is here.”
A heavy sigh escapes my lips. Time to meet the man who will be my husband tomorrow. “Be right down, mother.”
Magdalena pinches my cheeks to give them color and fusses over my hair. “You look lovely.”
“How should I act? Will I be nice? Or cold? Or warm?”
She creases her brow. “Lucia is always polite. She will smile and let him take her hand. He will take you to the garden. You are allowed to go alone.”
“Why?”
“Because papa knows you do not love him. He knows Cosimo will not make advances, and if he did, you would not allow it. Your honor is safe.”
“Ah. Well that’s the good part at least.” I tilt my head. “Does Cosimo know Lucia doesn’t love him?”
She shrugs. “I have no idea.”
I nod, and then force a smile to my lips. “Here goes nothing.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s just a saying.”
“You have a lot of those. Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
After taking a deep breath, I sweep the bottom of my dress up enough to allow a safe descent down the stairwell. As I near the front room, I see the back of a man’s head. He’s very tall with thick black hair. His clothes make me smile, like something out of a historical romance, which is exactly what my life has become. His blue velvet trousers fall only to his knee where they button. The remainder of his legs are covered in a similar colored material, and on his feet are shiny black shoes. His upper body is clothed in a type of jacket that matches the pants with a white collar that wraps around his neck. Around his waist is a thick belt. He looks exactly as I would expect of a sixteenth century gentleman.
When the parents’ eyes shift to me, Cosimo turns around, and my mouth falls open slightly. I don’t know what ugly means in Renaissance Italy, but this man is far from meeting that description. He is… well, he’s gorgeous. He watches me with piercing dark eyes as I study his face and finish stepping down the last few steps. He has strong features, but they come together nicely. Full lips, a classic Italian nose, lush hair. He reminds me of…
He bows slightly toward me. “Good day, Lucia. You look lovely as always.” His voice is deep and rich. It warms me like drinking a full bodied wine. His Italian is proper, elegant, sexy. I swallow slowly as I continue my approach.

He extends his hand so I take it and he places a soft kiss on it. I smile. “Thank you, Cosimo. I hope you are well.”
“I am always well in your presence.”
As he stands upright again my eyes follow his height. He has broad shoulders and amazing posture. I don’t know what to say next so I look to my pretend parents for guidance.
“Lucia dear,” the mother says. “Why not take Cosimo to see the roses blooming in the garden?”
“Yes. Would you like to walk to the garden with me?”
“I would.”
He puts his arm out for me to take and I do, recalling everything I’ve read about sixteenth century courtship. I should be demure, submissive, delicate – three things I am definitely not. We walk out to the garden and sit on a bench. Cosimo seems nervous, fidgeting and wringing his hands a bit. I decide it’s best at this point to let him lead the conversation.
After a moment of silence, he speaks. “Are you as excited as I for our union?”
Totes getting there. “Yes, of course. I am also nervous, but I will do my best.”
“You do not have to do or be anything more than you are.” He takes my hand in his swallowing hard. “I hope someday you will love me. I will work hard for your affection. I know I might not seem like the best choice, but I will be good to you.”
He’s so sweet. “Do you love me, Cosimo?”
“Oh, yes, my darling. I have loved you for a year now.”
“A year?”
“Since we started our walks alone in the garden. I feel like I have come to know you well in that time.”
“What are your hopes for our marriage?”
He smiles sweetly. “I hope to be a good husband to you. To bring a smile to your face when you see me. I hope we have children, strong, healthy children, and that we grow old in each other’s arms. I hope that you will know in your heart that you are so treasured and loved and wanted.” He lifts my hands and places a firm kiss on them. “I do so desire you, my darling, Lucia. I hope you will desire me as well.”
I smile, averting my eyes like I should. “Would you like to kiss me?”
His eyes open wide. “I would, but it is not proper.”
“Says who?”
A smile tugs at his lips. “You have never offered before. Why now when our wedding is so near?”
I half shrug. “Just seemed like it might be nice.” I cup his cheek. “What difference would it make now? I will be your wife by this time tomorrow.”
“This is quite a shift. A happy shift.”
I lean a little closer and whisper, “Do you want to?”
“I have always wanted to.”
“Then you may.”
Our mouths move close until they touch. His lips press against mine, softly at first, but then firmer as his hands slide down my arms. He keeps his lips closed even when I slightly part mine. Slowly, he pulls back, kisses me once more, then sits upright. That was a pretty good kiss.
“I am honored, Lucia. Thank you. I look forward to many more kisses.”
“You are terribly sweet, Cosimo.” I smile. “Will we go away for a honeymoon?”
He tilts his head, narrowing his eyes. “You did not wish it. Have you changed your mind?”
“What would we do if we did not go away?”
“My hope is we would consummate our union in our marital bed tomorrow evening. From there, I was planning to allow you to decide.”
“And if we did go away, where would we go?”
“To my family estate in Siena. We would have it for a week to ourselves. I can arrange for it if you would like it so.”
Hmm, holed up in a Tuscan house with this pretty hot guy for a week? “I would like it so.”
A gorgeous smile spreads across his lips. “I am so pleased. I thought, perhaps, you did not find me attractive. I had hoped over time you would warm to me.”
I feel a little sad for him. If only he knew I am not the woman he thinks I am. What a shock it will be when Lucia comes back. “It is a big change when a woman marries. It has taken me some time to adjust to the idea of leaving my family and my relative independence. It was not a slight to you.”
“You will have your independence. I love that about you. You have your own mind and thoughts. You read and we can talk about things. You can pursue anything you wish. All I ask of you is your fidelity and the possibility of children.”
“Of course. Those are quite reasonable requests.” Crap. I can’t get pregnant here. As it is, things are a little wonky since thanks to all of this, I had to stop my birth control pills mid-cycle. “Would you consider allowing me to wait until my next birthday?”
“Wait?”
“For children?”
“Oh.” His face falls a bit. “I have waited this long. What is a few more months?”

“You are so gracious. Thank you, Cosimo.”
He smiles, brushing his thumb across my cheek. “You are beautiful, Lucia. The most stunning woman in all of Florence. It is you that is gracious to accept my love and my name. I will care for you until my dying breath.”
I wonder if she knew he loved her like this. He’s not old at all. At twenty-nine, he’s only four years older than me, but to Lucia, he’s twelve years older. Of course in my time, a guy nearly thirty dating a girl still seventeen is illegal in most states, but you got to get things going in the sixteenth century. Short life expectancy and all that.
“I will do my best to be a good wife to you.”
“I have no doubt.”
He starts to stand, but I tug his arm. “Do you want to kiss me again?”
“May I?”
I nod. “Please.”
Our lips meet once more, and when I press against him, Cosimo sighs against my mouth and holds me tight. There is a whole lot of passion simmering underneath the surface of this proper gentleman, and I have a feeling it’s all boiling over tomorrow.


Author Bio:

From contemporary romance author, Jennifer Domenico, comes a different kind of love story.

Writing as Jaelyn La Storia, the author spins stories that combine her love for the past with the reality of the present. Her debut new adult novel, Lost Within, is scheduled to release September 15, 2017.

She is represented by Lady Amber’s PR for promotional opportunities.

Jaelyn La Storia. Because history is sexy.

Jennifer Domenico

Writing as Jaelyn La Storia


Hosted by: 
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Lady Amber's PR

Thursday, 17 August 2017

Science Fantasy Romance Duology by Newland Moon




Rites of Heirdron
Book I



They poisoned his planet, massacred his people, and violated his mother.
Now, they’re coming for him.

A bastard prince, born to a dishonored queen, Zrahnz is the last hope of a dying world. As he struggles to reclaim his legitimacy as a ruler and protect his planet, a debilitating illness threatens his sanity and his life. If he cannot save himself, his planet will succumb to the corrupt intergalactic alliances aligned against them.

The irrepressible allure he feels for an Earth-born visitor, Itanya, nearly overwhelms him, yet through her, Zrahnz discovers the secret that can ease the devastating agony of his illness. Could she be the key to his survival and the future of Triaxeyn?

With Q-1 Raydren at his side, and the Oracles’ influence, he uncovers corrupted histories and unscrupulous enemies. If he fails to make a crucial decision, his people and everyone he loves will be destroyed.

Zrahnz is denied his rule, denied his birthright, and denied the one truth that will save his life.

He wasn’t supposed to survive, he wasn’t supposed to fight, and he wasn’t supposed to receive, the RITES OF HEIRDRON






~D. Donovan, Midwest Book Review
 "Rites of Heirdron is a powerful fantasy telling. Its dual focus on changing worlds and hearts moves deftly from personal to political realms. It's a recommended pick for readers who like their sci-fi spiced with more than light romance, but who want that romance wrapped in the heavier cloak of sacrifice, duty, and life-changing decisions."

~Romuald Dzemo for Readers' Favorite
"Newland Moon has the gift of integrating strong themes like love, friendship, loyalty, faith, and redemption into a beautiful story in a seamless manner. The writing is flawless, crisp, and tight, with vivid descriptions that capture the intense action excellently.”

Excerpt:
Agonized Reality

Zrahnz dove forward and then rolled to the side. His head came up in a flash and lowered again. Clutching the ionic-tazer, he initiated a backward roll and took position behind a rock formation. He had lost track of his partner. After taking a deep breath, he eased around the side of the boulder, noticing movement to his left.

Instinctively, he dropped into a defensive crouch, sending four ionic blasts toward the enemies. He did not wait to check the accuracy of his shots, running to his right and diving behind their damaged shuttle. His breathing was labored as he tried to steady himself.

He noticed more enemies still advancing as he changed position. When he checked the energy level of his ionic-tazer, he had enough power left for only four blasts. He searched for his partner again, tapping the com-tag nestled in his ear. Nothing. How did they become separated? He had trained for this and now he might have gotten his partner either captured or killed.

He ground his teeth at that thought. After taking another deep breath, he counted. Zrahnz eased around and noticed the position of three enemies. He offered a prayer, wiping the forming sweat off his hands onto his uniform. When his count reached ten, he leveled his ionic-tazer, and leapt from his position, shooting.

One and then another enemy dematerialized as his well-aimed shots hit them squarely. His movement never ceased as he concealed himself again.

Zrahnz checked his surroundings and then rested a hand on the three chazrens on his belt. Those he would use only if he had to. The handheld grenades were more effective if an enemy was within twenty meters. It was his hope that his partner was alive, and that together, they could end this.

When he leveled his weapon again, the tremble in his hands was worse than before. He blinked, trying to clear the haze from his mind. Focus, he thought, willing his mind to follow his commands. Please, focus.

His surroundings became a blur as a pain erupted in his abdomen. He clenched his eyes shut, doubling over with the excruciating waves of heat. It felt as tiny molten blades jabbed at his insides. No, please, no.
He heard the blasts echo in his mind and the screeches that accompanied them. He could do nothing; there was only the pain, the confusion, the helplessness.

He screamed, despite his best efforts to remain quiet. He could taste the blood in his mouth from biting through his lip. Another scream escaped him, louder than the last, and then, nothing but white.

Zrahnz gasped, springing up and reaching for his weapon. His surroundings were still a blur as he tried to scramble to his feet.

“Easy, my Prince, easy,” Raydren said, attempting to lower him again to the ground.

Zrahnz grasped his arm with one hand and delivered a side-chop with the other. When Raydren ducked the chop, he rolled to the side and leapt to his feet, grabbing a chazren from his belt as he did so.

Raydren’s eyes widened. “Training exercise complete. Terminate!” he shouted, diving toward the Prince.

Everything in the dream room faded as Zrahnz thrashed, trying to break free from his tight hold. The chazren he had been clutching disappeared with the rest of the items in the training program.

“My Prince, please, the exercise is over. The pain is over, you’re here with me. It’s only us, Zrahnz, can you hear me? Follow my sound and come back to me, please, come back to me.”

Raydren bit back his emotion, cradling the prince in his arms. His episodes were coming more often and the level of pain was increasing.

“Zrahnz,” he said again. “I’m here with you, I’m here.”

His motion calmed when he heard Raydren’s soothing voice repeat his name. Zrahnz blinked his eyes open, trying to clear the fog from his mind.

Raydren kept one arm wrapped tightly around him and with the other, pulled a subdermal-injector from his belt. He placed it against Zrahnz’s chest, emptying the remaining medicine into his bloodstream.

Zrahnz’s body tensed with the injection and then went limp as the medicine eased the pain and lifted some of the haze filling his mind.

“Ray—Raydren.” The pain and suffering etched the word. “Raydren…help me…please, help me.”

“I’m here with you, my Prince. We’ll find a way, I promise you. We’ll find a way. I’ll never leave you. I’m here.”


Orbs of Trenihgea
Book II


They poisoned his planet, massacred his people, and violated his mother.
Then, they came for him.

After an interplanetary betrayal decimated his world, Zrahnz struggled to protect his people and reclaim his legitimacy as their ruler.

Now, he has received the Rites of Heirdron and vows to defend the Triax planets torn asunder by a corrupt galactic council, and the “shadow whisperers” who have manipulated them all.

With the aid of First Commander Lezayen and his QuNytwanian fleet, Zrahnz must unite the factions that deceived them in the past. The ensuing battle is for more than the survival of Triaxeyn, it’s for the liberation of the galaxy.



Excerpt:
Space Station E-Alpha-1

The tufted chair collided against the wall as Gil pushed back from the table. “What the hell do you mean, quarantine? I’m not staying on this damn station!” He pointed an unsteady finger toward Malon, wiping the frothy drool from the corner of his mouth. “That montahn is going to provide the antidote now, or I’ll blast him back to that pungent, black rock he calls a planet.”


When he reached for his weapon, Strand pounded a drab stone on the table, pushing up on wobbly knees. “All of you shut up and sit down! Gil, remove your hand from that weapon and think. We can’t return to Earth; not like this. We need Malon’s people to deliver more of the medicine.”


“What do you propose we do, Strand?” K’aht asked. “Are we to sit here and deteriorate while those weishints roam free? I want them dead!”


“Who?” Tryndr asked, his light voice adding calm to the intensity in the room. “Who do you want dead? No one launched an attack against us. It was our own impetuosity and greed that caused this.”


Gil scoffed. “Name it what you will. This was no accident. That shipment was sabotaged.”

“How? That case never left Malon’s possession. Who in elorac do you think would’ve known it contained the means to annihilate and entire planet? Who?” Tryndr said.


Malon sighed, meeting the eyes of everyone in the council chamber. “He’s right. I didn’t tell anyone what I carried. Only two others from my planet knew I had synthesized the enhanced toxin. You were the only ones, other than our allies on Triaxeyn that were aware. Even SO-12 Sydric was only told to rendezvous with us to retrieve more of it.”


“How then? How?”


“I don’t know how.” Malon ran his webbed fingers over the ridges on his skull. “You all witnessed what took place. The vials imploded and released the toxin. Not one vial, all of them, simultaneously. Not even with the most incompetent design should that have been possible. There’s something we’re missing. And if we want to survive this, we’ll stop fighting amongst ourselves and figure it out.”

The room fell silent with only the ragged breathing of each occupant sounding in their ears.


“Brenz.” Gil gasped, pushing back from the table. His eyes darted frantically, back and forth, organizing the assailing thoughts in his mind. “Brenz. His—his com-tag…it malfunctioned toward the end of the meeting and he left.”


Strand nodded. “Yes…yes. Shortly after he left, the vials malfunctioned and released the toxin. Have any of you received a message from him? He should’ve returned the following cycle.”


Viszain’s copper eyes flared. “He hasn’t returned to the station or sent a message.”


“Is his shuttle still in the docking bay?” Strand asked.


“It’s doubtful.” Gil’s said. “I have an associate at the academy on Charznaeyah. I’ll send him a message and inquire about our missing councilmember. If he’s fled the system, we’ll know exactly where to look.”


“Do you think he’d betray us?” Ahorid asked.


“What I know is that he’s the only one of us that didn’t ingest the toxin. When have you ever known him to miss our mandatory meetings?”


“Never.”


“Once I’ve spoken with my associate, I’ll contact the Star Guild and the Order. They’ve taken significant losses. If Brenz has sided with the Triaxeynians, his fate will be as theirs, only worse.”





Two awesome prizes up for grabs.
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Aaron-Michael Hall


Aaron-Michael Hall ( Newland Moon ) is a Speculative Fiction author (Epic Fantasy and Science Fantasy with an EDGE) originally from southern Illinois. Since August 2015, she has written eight full-length novels and published four. Her first novel, The Rise of Nazil has won numerous reader awards.

Now, when she is not interviewing indie authors on her Desu Beast Blog, being super mom, wrangling stampeding miniature dachshunds, or managing her 9 to 5, she is interweaving genres, creating languages, and adding just the right edge to keep you turning pages.

Aaron-Michael created the Mehlonii language for her diverse Epic Fantasy series. Along with intriguing characters, multilayered plots, new species, deities, and creatures, the Mehlonii language adds that fantastical element missing from most modern Epic/High fantasy. You can listen to samples of the spoken Mehlonii language on her website’s Mehlonii page.

When asked why she wrote this series, Aaron-Michael simply said, “It needed to be written.”

It is her hope that the readers enjoy the wonders of FaƩlondul and Ahmezurhran even more than she enjoyed writing about them.



Wednesday, 16 August 2017

Stolen Wish by Jennifer Blackstream




Title: Stolen Wish
Series: The Blood Realm Series #5
Author: Jennifer Blackstream
Publication Date: August 7, 2017
Publisher: Skeleton Key Publishing
Genre: Paranormal Romance



PRIDE MAKES HIM BOLD ENOUGH TO COVET HER

Ali is a notorious thief, skilled enough to steal whatever his heart desires—except what it desires most. Anara. His fellow criminal would never let him get so close if she suspected he knew who she truly was. But a man can only resist temptation for so long…

PREJUDICE CANNOT HIDE PASSION FOREVER

Princess Anara is a tiger shifter obsessed with redeeming her race. With fierce determination, she’s stealing back the sacred objects of her people, the loss of which cost them the ability to safely convert their mates. Nothing and no one will stand in her way—not even a relentless thief who sees more than he should, and says more than she’s ready to hear…

DUTY AND LOVE BOTH DEMAND SACRIFICE

A dark sorcerer inadvertently gives Ali the leverage he needs to demand Anara’s hand in marriage. He’ll get the wife he’s coveted for so many years, and she will get the chance to finally explore the passion that she’s denied herself for too long. But even with a djinn’s magic at their fingertips, happiness is no guarantee. That which is easily gained is just as easily lost. If they want a future together, they’ll have to fight for it…




Excerpt:


I’m not alone.


Anara slid into the shadow cast by a large pillar, stilling her breath as she scanned her surroundings. Visconti Malik’s cavernous home was empty on this level, none of the current occupants trusted to be in the showroom when their master was away.

The cool tile chilled her back through her cloak as she held still, reaching inside herself for her other half. Her beast stirred, a tiger’s soft golden head rising, opening shining green eyes. Three high-arched doorways on either side of her gave a breathtaking view of the city around the hilltop, but she ignored it, focusing instead on the surrounding room. The massive pillars could be hiding anyone.

Her nostrils flared, parsing out the myriad of scents that swirled in the wind. The ghost of the night's dinner still hung in the air in a perfume of figs, pomegranates, goat meat, and barley. Underneath that slept the scent of the treasure the visconti loved so much, bragged of so often. And still below that was another scent. One that did not belong.

Masculine. Sand. The sharp scent of clothing dye. And a familiar hint of foolhardy excitement.

A smile spread over her lips. She knew that scent. Knew the man it belonged to. Her stomach fluttered in excitement as she remained hidden behind the pillar, waiting for the soft footsteps to pass her hiding place.

Ali was silent for a human, she would allow him that. But a weretiger’s senses were unrivaled, and she would have heard the slap of his bare feet on the tile even if he had been moving as cautiously as he should have been. She shook her head, stalking him as he approached the far wall where the treasures glittered on rows of pedestals.

“Hello, beautiful,” he whispered.

Anara froze, her hand hovering over his shoulder. Irritation furrowed her brow, and she crossed her arms. “How did you hear me?” she demanded in a whisper.

Ali jumped, whirling around in midair and nearly dropping the gold rhyton he held in his hands. Blue eyes opened so wide they caught the moonlight, turning his irises into crystal pools of light. The silky black hair hanging to his shoulders framed those eyes, made them all the brighter for the shadows that bathed the sides of his face. Anara dug her fingernails into her palm, resisting the urge to touch a lock of that hair, see if it was as soft as it looked.

He exhaled a deep breath, muscled shoulders sagging under the thin material of his caftan. “Habibi, you scared a year off my life. Why would you do such a thing?”

Her eyes narrowed. “You were talking to the rhyton, weren’t you?” She drummed her fingers along her biceps and lifted her chin in pretended offense. “What a fool I was to think I was the beautiful one you were greeting.”

A grin spread over Ali’s mouth, and he rolled the treasure down his arm, carelessly flinging it to his other hand as he focused on her. The intricately carved head of a ram seemed to flash its disapproval as Ali raised the cup in a mock toast. “Had I known you were here, I would not have wasted those words on a meaningless trinket such as this. You are the true treasure here.”

As always, Anara found his smile infectious, and soon she was returning his grin even as she tsked at him. “If you’re wasting your time with baubles such as that, then you are ignorant of the visconti's greatest wealth.”

Blue eyes glittered with renewed greed as he replaced the rhyton on its pedestal. “Oh?”

Anara cast a glance around to make certain they hadn’t disturbed the sleeping servants. The large room was open, security depending on the palace’s strategic placement atop a hill and the knowledge that anyone suspected of stealing from the visconti would suffer for a long time before he died. Malik was too proud of his treasures and his wealth to lock it away, and he clearly felt that the level of torture and violence he leveled on would-be thieves was more than enough to make up for his audacity. Anara said a prayer of gratitude for his foolishness as she redirected her attention to the locked door that led to the interior of the home.

She took a careful step toward the door, her senses alert for any sound that might mean they were in danger of getting caught. The huge space remained empty, not a hint of sound bouncing off the gold and cerulean tiles that lined the floors, walls, and ceilings. With a wink at Ali, she resumed her original quest.

He followed her lead, trailing without a trace of the pride that so often hobbled other men. It was perhaps his greatest quality, his ability to put practicality above pride. A very rare quality.

“And what precious secrets is Malik hiding, then?” Ali whispered.

“If you would do proper research instead of just grabbing whatever shiny object catches your fancy, then you would know. Now be silent.”

The door’s lock gave way under the careful application of the slender tools Anara had crafted herself. Together, they snuck inside and made their way down the short hallway, going left when it came to a T.

The scent of rich ink, expensive thread, and the unmistakable mustiness of a space with no windows guided Anara until she came to the room she’d been looking for. Polished tile cover the walls and ceiling as in the other rooms, but this alcove boasted comfortable pillows and cushions for lounging, and expensive silks and tapestries broke up the endless shining tiles. A room meant for entertaining. For impressing.

Anara kept her eyes on the tapestry at the far end, its vibrant threads depicting a majestic Roc holding one of its precious eggs, its wings turned to burning red embers by the glorious, intricate stitching of a setting sun. She stepped around the various seating arrangements, her heart beating faster as she approached her goal.

Her fingers had just brushed the wall-hanging when Ali’s body heat washed over her back. Anara blinked and paused, her nerves tingling with the pleasant awareness of Ali’s proximity. It wasn’t the first time he’d invaded her space, and once again she reflected that if he knew that the veil she wore was not just a means of hiding her identity during her nocturnal activities, but a means to prevent anyone from looking on the face of the sultan’s daughter—he would never dare to stand so close to her. No man did.

But he didn’t know. And he must never know.

“Have you forgotten what you’re looking for?” he murmured.

The words were another curl of heat into the air, and he shifted closer. Anara realized she was holding her breath, concentrating on the gentle press of his chest against her back. The tingling in her nerves turned to a crackle, and she quickly snuffed it out.

“I have not forgotten. I am waiting for you to realize your complete disrespect for my personal space.” She kept her voice light, gently recriminating.

An inhale right next to her ear startled her, and she jerked her head to the side, prevented from seeing him by the hood of her cloak.

“You smell good.”

She pressed her lips together and turned enough to face him, narrowing her eyes at the wicked smirk on his face.

“You smell of wine. Perhaps you could refrain from breathing on me so at least one of us can keep a clear head?”

His blue eyes darkened and he stepped forward, crowding her and prompting her to tilt her face up to keep meeting his eyes or else step back in retreat. Her tiger raised its head, eyeing the man before her with burgeoning interest. Ali leaned closer, filling her senses with his unique scent. Her pulse throbbed as he stopped with his mouth an inch from her ear.

“Am I making it difficult for you to keep a clear head? Perhaps you’ll join me for a drink so I can…apologize?”





Also Available:



The Blood Rose Series #1

The Blood Realm Series #2

The Blood Realm Series #3

The Blood Realm Series #4


The Author:

Jennifer Blackstream is a USA Today bestselling author of fantasy/paranormal romance. Urban Fantasy will soon be joining her repertoire, and if she doesn’t get hold of the insidious roving gang of plot bunnies, there’s going to be steampunk sprinkled in there too…

For news, new releases, and a free copy of What Big Teeth You Have, sign up for Jennifer’s mailing list on her website at jenniferblackstream.com.

Jennifer has unfailing affection for the authors who have influenced her, including Laurell K. Hamilton, Jim Butcher, and the sorely missed Sir Terry Pratchett. Her books include humor, romance, and action, with enough darkness to keep things very interesting.

When Jennifer isn’t writing, she can be found re-watching Boondock Saints, Noises Off, or Gross Pointe Blank. With one of those classics in the background, she might also be searching Amazon for something she wants, but doesn’t need (Is there any such thing as a kitchen gadget that isn’t an absolute necessity? And don’t even get me started on office supplies…).




#stolenwishtour


Tuesday, 15 August 2017

Creatures Boxset



Genre: Paranormal/Fantasy/Romance
Release Date: 15th of August



CREATURES is a collection of otherworldly tales from today's indie-favorite New York Times, USA Today, and International bestselling authors!

You are about to enter the realm of Creatures, a boxed set packed with more than twenty enthralling tales of urban fantasy and paranormal romance! From witches to vampires, shifters to fae, and every dark creature known to lurk the pages of fantasy fiction, you're sure to find yourself up past your bedtime and reading well into the witching hour!

So curl up on your sofa with a steaming cup of tea and order today if you dare brave the beasts!







Meet the Authors:



A K Michaels




Gina Kincade & Kimberly Gould




Bianca D'Arc




Boone Brux




Felicia Beasley




Kyoko M




Jules Barnard




Monica La Porta




Heather Marie Adkins




Aoife Marie Sheridan




Alex Owens




Laura Greenwood & J & L Wells




Juliana Haygert




Skye Knizley




S.M. Blooding




Shelique Lize


E. M. Moore


Lydia Sherrer



Erzabet Bishop



Morgan Wylie


Wendy Owens


Stephanie Marks









Mentralysis by Ren Garcia




They thought the episode with their cousin to the east, Lady Bloodstein, was over. They thought it was something to laugh about at the grand table in fond nostalgia.

But they were wrong. They were so wrong.
And Castle Blanchefort has fallen!

Lord Kabyl has lost everything: his wife, his kin, his family fortune, and his home. Castle Blanchefort, once a safe haven, is overrun with enemies seeking his blood.

In what follows, he must join forces with ancient enemies and with people who do not exist. He must treat with sinister, possibly untrustworthy gods and barter away his soul for urgently needed arcane help or face certain death at the hands of forgotten tyrants and their machinations from a bygone age.

And, how can a strange science known as Mentralysis, practiced in secret in the hidden places of the League, hold the key to ultimate victory?

What should have been obvious to Lord Kabyl from the start at last becomes crystal clear: Foolish is he who dares possess the Ultimate Object, for misery shall be his only reward.

Amazon ~



The Author:

Ren Garcia is a Science Fiction/Fantasy author and Texas native who grew up in western Ohio. He has been writing since before he could write, often scribbling alien lingo on any available wall or floor with assorted crayons. He attended The Ohio State University and majored in English Literature. Ren has been an avid lover of anything surreal since childhood, he also has a passion for caving, urban archeology and architecture. His highly imaginative "League of Elder" book series is published by Loconeal Publishing

Website FacebookAmazon ~



Top Ten List:

10:  Ren was once engaged to a woman 25 years his elder.
9:    Ren visited New York City and admired the World Trade Center towers just a month or so before the tragedy of 9/11.
8:    The FBI once put a gun in Ren's face.
7:    Bad hearts run in Ren's family. He's already outlived most of his paternal grandfathers, all of whom died in their 30's.
6:    Ren's poor eyesight went undiagnosed until he was in the 3rd grade. Up until that point, he was considered "mentally challenged".
5:    Ren broke his neck playing volleyball in college.
4:    Ren often sleeps on the floor, finding it more comfortable than the bed.
3:    Ren was once held at gunpoint and frisked by the guards of the Prince of Saudi Arabia.
2:    Ren was introduced to his wife via Match Makers International.
1:    In a vast extended family of exclusively brown-eyed people, Ren somehow managed to get blue eyes.


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Monday, 14 August 2017

Omega by Karina Espinosa



Title: Omega
Author: Karina Espinosa
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Cover Designer: Laura Hildago
Publisher: Black Quill Publishing


Bodies drained of blood are scattered around New York City. With a serial killer on the loose, Mackenzie Grey is obsessed with solving the murders. She dives into her work at the Supernatural Investigative Unit to forget about the events that dismantled her Pack a year ago. When the killer makes Kenz the target, she falls down the rabbit hole and discovers she has a lot more to do with these murders than she realized.

As her past creeps up behind her, she must swallow her pride and seek aid from old and new friends.
In the epic finale of the Mackenzie Grey: Origins series, she will finally become the wolf she is destined to be…








Mackenzie Grey Series:


Shift  :  Caged  :  Alpha  :  Omega



Author Bio:

Karina Espinosa is the Urban Fantasy author of the Sins of the Fallen series and the Mackenzie Grey novels. Infatuated with travel, pop culture, and the need to write everything down, she spends much of her days in front of a computer working on her next book, shopping online, and listening to music.

With nomadic tendencies, she is currently resting her head in South Florida until the itch to move strikes again.

You can usually catch her on Facebook, Instagram and live-tweeting during episodes of Game of Thrones, The Walking Dead, and Orphan Black.

Website  :  Facebook  :  Twitter  :  AmazonGoodreads  





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Sunday, 13 August 2017

Wicked Bite by Rebecca Zanetti




Title: Wicked Bite
Series: Realm Enforcers #5
Author: Rebecca Zanetti
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Pub Date: 8/1/2017



As she hunts for a drug lord killing her fellow witches, all Tessa Lansa’s instincts point to the Grizzly motorcycle club. That might be because their leader, Bear, is the strong, silent shifter type: warm brown eyes and more muscle and alpha male than any woman can ignore. Which makes Tessa’s plan to seduce and betray him all the more dangerous…

Bear doesn’t trust the curvy, blue-eyed witch. But Tessa can heal the injuries that sap his strength. And since he can’t stop thinking of her lush body and teasing smile, her plan to mate him to reclaim her own power is highly tempting. Just one problem. Once a desire this wild is loose, no one will ever control it…




Excerpt:


Chapter 1


Somebody was in his cabin. Beauregard McDunphy lumbered around the side of the modest wood structure, his fur rippling in the wind, his big paws leaving tracks in the wet dirt. At one point, not too long ago, he’d been bigger than any bear in the area—shifter or animal. Now he was merely normal size. Yet he could still take a human trespasser without much effort. He lifted his snout, and the fur rose down his broad back.
He was a loner, and he liked his privacy, so anybody who even remotely knew him understood to stay the hell out of his space. What was that smell?
Irish roses and something . . . female. The scent of woman. He growled, the sound hollow.
Who the hell was in his cabin? He stalked toward the front door, which remained open. Oh, he was going to scare this interloper. He sucked in air to snarl, rolling his neck so he could fully flash his canines.
A woman came into view, turning around, skirt rustling. “There you are.”
He paused and studied her. Thick black hair piled on her head, violet-blue eyes, smooth features. Delicate. Something stirred inside him, and he shook his head, trying to focus. Why wasn’t she scream- ing? Most people freaked out when faced with a grizzly bear. Wait a minute. He knew her. Didn’t he know her?
She pressed her hands to her hips. Her green houndstooth de- signer suit looked like something out of the fifties. Somehow, it worked on her. “Do you mind shifting back to human form? We need ta talk.”
The brogue. Irish brogue. Pretty eyes. Small stature. Sparks of power all around her.
It hit him then. A witch. There was a witch in his home. He growled again and set his bones to transforming into his human shape. The process took longer than it should have, considering he’d mainly been in bear form for nearly three months. Three useless months that hadn’t changed a damn thing about his failing health.
Pain lanced down his spine and through his arms. His bones broke and reformed, hurting much more than they should. The fur receded on his arms and then the rest of his body. Agony flared through his face, reshaping it, nearly making him black out. Finally, he straight- ened, his body elongating. He kept his expression stoic and tried to banish the ache.
“That looked painful,” she whispered, her gaze soft on his face. “It was,” he responded before he could think. Then reality crashed
back. “Why is there a Coven Nine witch in my fucking cabin?” His safe cabin in the Seattle wilderness where witches and the Coven Nine couldn’t get to him. What was her name? He couldn’t place it. Everything was cloudy. Yet he remembered seeing her in Ireland at witch headquarters—she was a council member. When was that? Months ago.
She hummed and looked around, her gaze high and a light pink dusting her cheekbones.
He settled his stance. His human brain kicked back in. “As a member of the Coven Nine, what are you doing here?” She was on the ruling council of witches, and she should have security all around her. His back stiffened, and he turned to scan for threats.
“I’m alone,” she said.
That was impossible. Yet even with his senses returning, he couldn’t find any other people near, much less any witches. “Why?” he barked. His voice was rough and hoarse from disuse.
She blew out air, her pretty lips pursing. Her gaze rose nearly to the rough wooden ceiling. If she craned her neck up any more, she might fall backward.
Bear frowned. “What the hell?”
She cleared her throat. “Do you, ah, do you mind?” Her hand swept out, even the small movement graceful.
“Mind what?” he snapped, glancing over his shoulder again. Trees and silence met his gaze. Thunder ripped above, and an angry autumn rain began to slap the ground. Summer had given up the fight, and the oncoming winter scented the breeze. He stepped inside the cabin.
She backed up so quickly her butt hit the ancient stove, and she gave a startled eep. “Please, Mr. McDunphy.”
What in the world was wrong with the woman? “Please, what?” Was this some kind of trap?
“Put some clothes on,” she said through pearly-white teeth.
He started and looked down at his naked body. “Oh.” Clothes were such a damn annoyance. “Uh, okay.” A small dresser sat by the bed, on the north wall. He moved past the raggedy sofa and modest fireplace to yank out a pair of faded jeans. He struggled into them, wincing as he engaged the zipper.
Life was so much easier as a bear.

















Author Bio: 

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author Rebecca Zanetti has worked as an art curator, Senate aide, lawyer, college professor, and a hearing examiner - only to culminate it all in stories about Alpha males and the women who claim them. She writes contemporary romances, dark paranormal romances, and romantic suspense novels.

Growing up amid the glorious backdrops and winter wonderlands of the Pacific Northwest has given Rebecca fantastic scenery and adventures to weave into her stories. She resides in the wild north with her husband, children, and extended family who inspire her every day—or at the very least give her plenty of characters to write about.





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Saturday, 12 August 2017

Fleet by Brian T. Marshall

Title: Fleet
Author: Brian T. Marshall
Release Date: April 19, 2017
Publisher: missppelled press



A man, lost and naked, on the streets of Manhattan, pleading in an unknown tongue. The retired linguist who realizes it's an archaic Greek, not spoken for three thousand years. And the young woman who befriends them both, just in time for an unlikely quest. From New York to LA, Nebraska to Delphi, Fleet travels a labyrinth, with a mystery as old as mankind lying at its very heart.






Excerpt:

On the day that he turned seven years old, Simon Patrick gave himself a gift. On that day, and every day that followed, he would learn a new word. For most people, especially those with just seven candles on the cake, this would have sounded like a chore, or a duty. But for Simon it was a treat. Because for him, words were like candy, tiny little nuggets you popped in your mouth, only to find them expanding, exploding, engulfing you with new flavors, new worlds. His word for that day was precocious. And all day long he was precisely, exactly that.


Praise for Fleet:

"I love, love, loved this book from beginning to end."
- Hiatt House (Amazon)
"I was totally hooked from page one."
- Cara Gubbins (Amazon)
"If you're reading this review, STOP. Download the book and read it ... and hang on for an incredible ride. GO, RIGHT NOW."
- Michael Agliolo (Amazon)





Author Bio:

Brian T. Marshall was born in Southern California and became, despite concerted efforts, a graduate of UC Santa Cruz. For the past twenty years he and his wife have operated a small urban farm in the Northern Sierra foothills. He has recently retired his shovel to allow more time for literary and musical pursuits.





Guest Post:

The following is the opening chapter of my website serialization, "Doug Walker, Dog Walker."

So it must have been back in ninth or tenth grade. Back when they give you that test. General Aptitude? Major Pain-in-the Ass? Anyhow, you know the one. The one where they decide if you’re cut out to be a lawyer, or a mechanic, or the kind of a person who’d come up with a test to decide what kind of a person you are.

And for once I wasn’t complaining. Not about the test at least. Because the truth was, I could’ve used a little help at that point, a sign from God, an arrow pointing the way. So I sharpened up my #2, and filled in the little ovals, and then, two days later, forgot about the whole thing, went back to being the scared, scurrying little creature you’ll see staring back from my high school yearbook. But the test didn’t forget me. Somewhere a computer was scanning each page, tabulating my responses, doing whatever it is computers do. Deciding what kind of human being I deserved, or was stuck with, being.

Five or six weeks later we’re back in class, and the teacher is handing them out. Big brown manila envelopes with little white stickers on the front. And on those labels our names. Take them home. Discuss them with your parents. Appointments with your guidance counselor, sometime around Thanksgiving. But because I’m bored, with nothing better to do, I open mine up during lunchtime. Four or five sheets of paper, some charts, some tables, some graphs, and on the first one, right on the top, two words in big capital letters.

DOG WALKER

Now maybe someone else would’ve figured it out. Realized that the computers had taken my name – Doug Walker – and somehow dropped the ‘u’. That this whole thing, the computers, the test, were just a joke, that all these experts who were going to tell me what to do with my life couldn’t even spell my name right. But me? All I saw were those two words, spelling out my future. Like the fortune cookies we got each time my mom ordered take-out Chinese.

Dog Walker. Dog walker. I knew there were dogs. I knew there were people. I knew that people walked dogs. But the thought that it could be a job, a profession, the thing you called yourself, it pretty much blew my mind. I mean who would be lazy enough, loaded enough, to pay someone else to walk their dog? And more to the point, who would be hard up enough to say yes. To take that leash, that doggy bag, and somehow smile back.

Now I know.