TEASER: Salva Me by Autumn Montague

LGBTQ+ Regency Vampire Romance

Date Published: September 11, 2026

England, 1816. A nosferatu, a rogue vampire, hunts unchecked through
Sussex. Jeremy Takeshi Colbourne is honor-bound by ancestral duty to find and
destroy such madmen. Foremost among the vampires of England, he must find a
way to ensure the safety of the English citizens and the vampires that live
among them.

Then Jeremy and his blood-host Morgan Holland discover a brutally savaged
girl. With this latest victim of the nosferatu, Jeremy realizes the time has
come to make Morgan aware of the Colbourne responsibilities. But the situation
could not have come at a worse time.

For years, Morgan has served as Jeremy’s blood-host. Though Morgan adheres
faithfully to his Contracted terms, he refuses to surrender to the sexual
seduction that completes each feeding. He yields neither his body nor his
heart, though Jeremy yearns for both.

As the nosferatu’s atrocities grow, Jeremy must ask everything of Morgan to
gain the strength needed to fight the ravening monster. Will Morgan relent and
give up body and heart to help Jeremy defeat their enemy, or will the battle
destroy them both?


EXCERPT

 

Jeremy cursed at the knock on the oaken door of his study. Morgan had
attempted to corner him several times today. Pure cowardice had driven Jeremy
to take refuge here, a place his loyal Host rarely intruded on, since it held
the Buddhist shrine housing his mother’s mortuary tablet. He glanced at
the portrait standing behind the black stone, wishing for a bit of Keiko
Yamakawa’s legendary strength.

Evading Morgan had taken a toll on Jeremy. The Contracted day for his feeding
had come and gone. Today marked two full weeks since Morgan had wrenched
himself from Jeremy’s grasp, nearly bleeding to death before Jeremy
could administer the requisite clotting agent. The sight of Morgan’s
injuries had seared itself into Jeremy’s mind, rendering him unwilling
to risk another such incident.

It almost made him wish to return to Japan, despite the difficulties involved.
Obtaining the necessary dispensation from the Tokugawa Shogunate had been hard
enough when he left. Lord Matsumae had done what he could, but it had taken
his mother’s personal attendance on Emperor Kōkaku and an appropriate
gift to Tokugawa Ikeharu to get it done. Going back would be far worse,
despite his home’s exemption from the Sakoku Edict. Even so, he was
tempted. If only to avoid what he now faced.

The knock came again, harder than before, followed immediately by the entrance
of Morgan Holland. “Excuse me, Lord Colbourne. While I am always loath
to disturb you in your sanctum, you cannot avoid me forever.”
Exasperation filled Morgan’s voice, underscored by heavy concern.

Jeremy risked a glance at his Host, unwilling to see but drawn nonetheless.
The wounds on Morgan’s neck had healed; his skin flushed a healthy hue.
Unlike usual feedings, the last one had left two ragged scars, visible
reminders of Jeremy’s lack of control. Even now, the remnants of
Morgan’s refusal echoed in his mind, invading his dreams.

“I am not convinced you are well enough to support a feeding,
Holland,” he hedged, though his Host showed no lingering signs of ill
effects. “Your wounds have barely healed.”

Morgan sighed. “I understand your reluctance after the debacle last
time, but you cannot risk your health or your sanity by some idiotic attempt
at endurance. I am prepared to meet my Contracted terms without qualms.”

“So you say. Nonetheless, your refusal made quite an impression.
I’d prefer not to endure that again so soon.”

Morgan’s cheeks heated with angry embarrassment. “Then break
Contract, my lord, and find someone more willing to accommodate all of your
needs. Or go back to Japan.”

The slap of the words felt like a further refusal. Jeremy straightened in his
chair, denying the spike of pain, determined to retain his rationality. Fear
was anathema to the Barons of Colbourne and to the Yamakawa family. Being
afraid to feed on his Contracted Host shamed both houses. He stood, feeling
the weakness of flesh from self-deprivation.

“After twelve years? I’d rather not, thank you. You’re all I
need. Or want.” Jeremy considered the irony of his irrational thoughts
mere moments before. “It is far harder to return than to leave,”
he added. “While my home in Matsumae is exempt from the Sakoku Edict,
only my status as a noble Chi no Kami allowed me to leave in the first place.
I have no wish to reverse the process any time soon.”

Morgan considered for a moment and then gave him the ghost of a smile.
“Then please stop delaying the inevitable. Despite what happened before,
I refuse to watch you kill yourself, however noble your ancestors may have
found the practice. It would render all my efforts worthless.”

“Such things are not reserved for my ancestors,” Jeremy growled.
“If I chose seppuku, who would be my second? You’d still have to
watch me die.”

“At least it would not be this slow death you’re attempting
now.”

Trust Morgan to know him well enough to hit so close to the truth of the
matter. Jeremy allowed silence to reign for a moment and then gave a grudging
chuckle. “No quarter, I see. You win, Holland. Give me two hours, and
I’ll meet you in the sanguis cubiculum.”

Two hours would give Jeremy sufficient time to contact William Carter. After
this long, the sexual urges would be difficult to suppress, but he could not
afford another mistake like the last time.

Morgan nodded to him. “Two hours, then, Lord Colbourne. I will be
ready.”

* * *

At the appointed time, Morgan waited as instructed, nervous despite his
earlier words to Colbourne. He touched the scars on his neck gingerly,
wondering. For all his bravado and calm facade, the thought of facing
Colbourne’s fangs disturbed him. That last bite had driven into his neck
without preparation, the savage sting a hint of what mankind had faced in the
early days of the nosferii. Yet beyond the pain, another sensation had lurked,
one he was reluctant to recall.

Perhaps it was only the remnants of the lust that rose in him every time
Colbourne fed, but the agony of the unprepared bite had seemed to turn into a
hazy pleasure at the end, before he’d passed out. Perhaps the
recollection was only some perverse blending of his memories.

Colbourne entered the sanguis cubiculum through the far door. Morgan caught a
brief glimpse of another person before the closing door blocked his view.


So he arranged for his companion to be available immediately after he is
finished with me.

In spite of the obvious benefits to the situation, the idea irritated Morgan
for some reason. Though he refused to offer up his body for postfeed sex,
he’d always steadfastly ignored Colbourne’s subsequent retreat to
his rooms for several hours. To have that person here, in the antechambers of
the sanguis cubiculum, the mere thought left a burning ache in Morgan’s
gut. This was his domain, his sacred trust, no one else’s.

“Are you ready, Holland?”

The deeply sensuous voice rippled over Morgan’s skin, bringing him to a
half-aroused state before the feeding started. He did his utmost to quash the
reaction, trying vainly to focus on something other than Colbourne’s
mouth.

A hand reached for his chin, gently turning his face away to expose the length
of his neck.

“I’m sorry, Morgan,” Colbourne whispered.

Morgan felt the faintest tremble in his master’s hand. He turned his
head the opposite direction, offering the undamaged side. “Here,
Master,” he urged, “feed from here.”

Colbourne’s tongue touched him gently, tracing a line across his skin
before stopping. “No, I think not,” he said, trailing his fingers
past Morgan’s throat. “I’d rather feed from a different
source today. Your neck is still healing.”

Morgan shivered as his master’s hand roamed down his front, then stroked
along the inside of his thigh.

 

About the Author

Autumn grew up loving history, mythology, and all things Japanese, not
necessarily in that order. This eclectic love affair has bled over into her
writing, and her stories are always well spiced with the taste of Japan,
strange mythological beasties, or the lords and ladies of the ton. Sometimes
all three, leading to dark desires and forbidden loves.

And after all, dangerous passions should lead to uninhibited love.

 

Author’s Website

Author on Facebook

Follow Autumn on BookBub


Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress


RABT Book Tours & PR

BOOK BLITZ: Well Aware by Lani Lynn Vale

Title: Well Aware
Series: Don’t Date Him #9
Author: Lani Lynn Vale
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Tropes: One Night Stand, Sports Romance
Workplace Romance, Boss/Employee
Release Date: September 8, 2026
BLURB

A one-night stand, agreed on by both parties, was supposed to be just that. One night.

The next day, when Magnolia Baker walked in to the first practice for her last season of professional soccer with the Cowgirls, she expected it to go pretty smoothly. She was a veteran player, nothing surprised her anymore.
At least, until her one night stand walks through the door.
Her new boss, Beaufort Vanderbilt.
The man that set her blood on fire, and made words stutter from her mouth.
For eight months, they fight the connection, acting like they don’t feel a thing for each other.
Then tragedy hits Beau’s life, and she forgets that she’s supposed to remain professional. She forgets that she’s supposed to be the player and him the owner.
Lines are crossed, and soon, they can’t hide a thing from the people around them.
But Beau’s only partial owner of the team she desperately needs to play to remain hidden from her previous life. The other half-owner is dead set on tearing them apart, and making an example out of her. An example that will be a bright, shining warning flag to all future players to never follow in her footsteps.
Not if they want to ever play professional soccer again.

PURCHASE LINKS
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

ALSO AVAILABLE IN THE
DON’T DATE HIM SERIES
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

COMING SOON
Releasing October 6
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

AUTHOR BIO

Lani Lynn Vale is an American author of humorous romantic suspense novels. Born in the Great State of Texas, she has lived the majority of her adult life in East Texas where most of her novels are based. She’s married to her high school sweetheart whom her readers refer to as “LLV’s Bearded Half.” She published her first novel, Boomtown. in the summer of 2013 after the birth of her third child. She’s gone on to publish over 100 novels, with most of them going on to become USA Today Bestsellers.
AUTHOR LINKS
FACEBOOK

BOOK BLITZ: Blood in the Azure by S.M. Gray

Blood in the Azure
S.M. Gray
Publication date: March 1st 2027
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance

Keep the crown. It had been Len’s only goal for six years, before which it had been to take the damn thing. As Serica’s first ruling queen in centuries, she’s managed to stay on her throne through force of will and a growing trail of blood. For a time, her crown felt safe. Then Bardan Alimen, her lifelong betrothed, called to fulfill their marriage. With no coin to buy her freedom and an enemy force too strong to attack, Len feels her crown slipping from her grasp.

Then, an idea: she can escape wedding one king by marrying another.

Kaseus Collabel is a man so reviled his name is a curse. As king of hedonistic Hotesa, their marriage should be unthinkable. Their gods? Vicious enemies. Cultures? Incompatible. Their peoples? Hateful. The idea would have repulsed her had it not been for a consuming whisper of something more—and the wealth he can use to free her.

Handsome and effortlessly charismatic, Kaseus and his kingdom are everything Len needed and nothing she’s allowed to have. As Len is thrust to the center of an international scandal and her own people begin to turn on her, she will have to decide between her heart and her crown before she loses both.

Website


Author Bio:

S.M. Gray is a small-town Canadian author. By day she works as a psychotherapist, and she moonlights as a voracious key-clacker in her free hour before bed. She holds master’s degrees in Sociology and Psychology which inform her writing. Gray lives in small-town New Brunswick with her husband, two young children, and sugar-sweet cat.

Website / Instagram / Goodreads



BOOK BLITZ & GIVEAWAY: Turtle Lake by Robert Milne

 

Crime Thriller / Suspense

Date Published: 09-07-2026

Publisher: Mission Point Press

Turtle Lake is a gripping tale of revenge, survival, and the intricate
interplay between human nature and the natural world. The story follows Jim
Peters, the comptroller at Ramsey Motors, who uncovers a corrupt scheme by the
company and its insurer, U.S. Underwriters, to defraud employees of their
retirement and insurance benefits before moving operations overseas.
Infuriated, he devises an elaborate extortion plan to expose their corruption
and protect the employees through a spectacular plot that ends up achieving
national headlines. To accomplish his plan, Peters uses simple, everyday
methods and lessons learned from alpha predators in the natural world.

About the Author

Bob Milne has been hailed throughout his 60-year career as one of the
best ragtime/boogie-woogie piano players of all time. A solo concert
performer, he traveled all over the world playing for dignitaries and
celebrities as well as small town audiences. He was given the title of
National Treasure by the Library of Congress and deemed an Ambassador of Music
by the U.S. Department of State.

Bob’s extraordinary musical abilities were the subject of numerous brain
studies, which have inspired a popular RadioLab podcast.

Little did they know that Bob was also a talented writer.

For years he wrote articles about his saloon-playing days for music
publications. Many of these stories were compiled into a book called The
Journeyman Piano Player: Adventures in Gracious Dining. Bob has written reams
of poetry, some of which became lyrics to songs that he composed. The longest
piece of poetry he ever wrote was the lyric book for The Legend of Sleepy
Hollow, a grand opera he composed and orchestrated.

Mr. Milne has been fascinated by nature his entire life. At a young age he
realized that instincts are present in all species of birds, mammals
(including humans), and literally every living thing in nature. He has used
this information countless times over his lifetime to predict what the human
species will do in future situations.

Bob is now retired from the long piano tours and is enjoying his woodland
home. Today he spends his time studying nature in the woods. Signed copies of
his book may be purchased through his website.

Contact Links

Website

Goodreads

Facebook

Purchase Link

https://mybook.to/TurtleLake

Amazon


RABT Book Tours & PR

BOOK BLITZ & GIVEAWAY: The Laster Summerville by Annabelle Lewis

The Last Summerville
Annabelle Lewis
Publication date: September 1st 2026
Genres: Adult, Psychological Thriller, Romance, Suspense, Thriller

Twenty-two-year-old Georgia Parker already carries more regret than most people twice her age. Practically an orphan, she’s reeling from the death of her grandmother, Mimi—the one person who made her feel safe from the chaos of her mother’s world. Alone in Carson City, Nevada, Georgia is determined to start over, to stand on her own. Yet Mimi’s final words echo in her mind: Take risks. Trust people again. Be brave.

Then Heath Summerville steps into her life—charming, magnetic, protective, and so perfectly attuned to her needs it feels like fate. But the closer Georgia gets, the more she feels the pull of something she can’t name—something just beneath the surface of his charm.

Strange silences. Half-truths. High-society circles and an ancestral house that feels more like a trap than a refuge.

Lies are waiting to unravel. And by the time Georgia sees the truth, it might already be too late.

Goodreads / Amazon

CHAPTER 1:

“Get me out of this godforsaken town and back to civilization,” Vicky grumbled.

Georgia, behind the wheel, glanced at her mom, Vicky, who was shakily applying lipstick while looking in a handheld compact mirror. Vicky clicked it shut, then pulled down the passenger visor, only to find the old car devoid of a larger mirror. She swatted it back up, then garbled a sound of exasperation before diving back into her purse in search of something else.

Georgia didn’t see the lure of Las Vegas like her mother did. It was one of many differences between them. “No!” she suddenly exclaimed when Vicky put a cigarette to her lips, intending to light it. “Not in the car.”

“Why are you such an old damn scold, Georgia?” Vicky scowled. “You’re twenty-two years old, for fuck’s sake. Your holier-than-thou bullshit has gotten worse. Every time I see you.”

Vicky shook her head, then turned to stare out the window. Georgia swallowed back the words she wanted to throw in her mom’s face.

Not today. Not after all they’d been through.

They spent the rest of the drive to the Carson City airport in awkward silence. Georgia pulled to the curb at the departures area and then walked to the back of the Ford Bronco to help retrieve the bags. Vicky took them, mumbled goodbye, and walked away without a hug.

“Goodbye, Mom,” Georgia called loudly as she shivered in the cold, standing next to the back of her Mimi’s Bronco. She watched Vicky drag her bag, her head bowed, her eyes already on her phone. She didn’t turn to give Georgia one last look of goodbye, nor acknowledge Georgia’s use of the tender moniker of “mom,” rather than the usual “Vicky.” It hurt. But why Georgia expected Vicky to suddenly become maternal was the bigger question. And neither of them had made falsely loving or empty promises to keep in touch.

Author Bio:

Annabelle Lewis—a pseudonym for the author—lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Regrettably? Perhaps. She still believes she’s a Texan even though the math no longer supports that. Nor her birthplace. Nor her residence. No offense, Minnesota. You’ve got your good points too, but only about six months of the year.

In her youth, Annabelle was a complete failure. Ask anyone who knew her. Any of her teachers and family would tell you this. High school graduation was a sad day for all when Annabelle walked proudly off the high school stage, her thoughts consumed with boys, beer, and after-parties, and later into the arms of her parents. Her father’s laughter and singular remark? “I didn’t think you’d make it. Get a job at the post office, they have a good retirement plan.”

A high bar and words to live by, but Annabelle wanted more. She needed to flunk out of college too. But damn, she sure did have a good time. Trivial arrest records not-withstanding, it was a growth period for our girl. And if you look closely, you’ll see a bit of what was to come when she majored in criminal justice. Her lifelong aspiration was to become a judge. Hmm.

For better or worse, Annabelle didn’t graduate from college but did find gainful employment and a fulfilling career. This path ended when she became a mom. Married to her wonderful George, who to this day can hardly remember an actual proposal, Annabelle finally became a mother. She didn’t have a clue how hard she would need to work to keep those self-imposed requirements of Downey-fresh, iron-pressed sheets, home-baked meals, and mom-of-the-year awards arriving. She composed a small self-affirmation song and made her children sing it to her for money. She was a very good mom.

After clearing the largest hurdles of motherhood and regrettably, begrudgingly, and not-without-tears, launching her children onto the world, she looked around and realized she had a lot to say. Picking up a laptop, she got to work.

Annabelle spends her days continuing to tackle the challenges of motherhood, for both her humans and canines. She also writes. And reads. And cleans. And cooks. And bakes. And cleans again. She also supports her husband, George, in an administrative capacity for their small business. She’s in charge of payroll and cuts George’s checks. This leads to no marital acrimony.

In the beginning, with the blank page staring at her and possibly in a hostile mood after being literally mauled by a dog and by the world in general, she had an idea. What if she could wield a force of good upon unsuspecting evil-doers? What if she had the resources to get the job done without dealing with committee and anyone else’s whiney-ass opinions?

It was gold. It took off. Annabelle sat down and began to write and couldn’t stop. To date, having written over a million words in the Carrows Family Chronicles and her second series on the Boston Clairvoyants, several items have become quite clear. Annabelle had a lot to say. Annabelle really enjoys writing. And although she hates all things technology, she begrudgingly pounds her head on her desk daily as obstacles are thrown in her path. Almost a hero.

Since entering her world of make-believe, she has rebelled against all intrusion of real-world responsibilities. Her house is a mess, but she tries. Her family is fed, but more often than not, on takeout. She vows to shower every day, but no, it’s a vow she’ll never keep. Her friends are neglected, but not in her heart.

Read her mordacious blog! Read her books! Follow her on social platforms! Sign up for her newsletter! These are all good things. What are you waiting for? Jump into bed with Annabelle. She’s having a swell time. You should join her. theannabellelewis.com annabellelewisauthor@gmail.com IG and Twitter: alewisauthor


GIVEAWAY!

The Last Summerville Blitz


TEASER: Sunshine Boy by Nicky Silber

LGBTQ Rockstar Romance

Date Published: September 4, 2026

What if they’re not just friends? It could be murder!

After Julian’s sister sets him up with a charming Frenchman, Rahul
thinks he may be getting over Julian, especially since Julian is back with his
ex, Michael. Their band is finally taking off and the future seems bright.
Then Julian hints he may return Rahul’s feelings. But what might happen
if they become more than friends?

 


WARNING: Violence, Drinking/Substance use, Mentions of murder, Trauma/PTSD.

 

EXCERPT

 

Julian’s flat was a disaster, but Mel couldn’t be sure if it was
on account of Julian tearing the place apart in a fit of pique or if it was
always like this. Based on what his room had been like when she and her big
brother had lived at home, she didn’t really doubt this was just the way
he lived.

Mel hadn’t been here since the day Julian had moved in three years ago.
She saw enough of her brother at the place where they worked, the place where
they drank, and the place where they performed. She hardly needed to come
round his place to get even more time with the manic muppet.

Julian even did devastation manic. He was pacing around the living room,
pulling at his hair, talking a mile a minute. Mel could hardly keep up with
what he was saying, if he was saying anything at all and not just babbling
incoherently.

“… just a jazzy giraffe freak clomping around my life with his
big stupid hooves and not even looking for oncoming traffic or
anything… wouldn’t even slow down at a zebra crossing, even if
there was kids in it, or like countryside sheep or whatever… just plow
right through ‘em — WHAM — ‘sorry, missus, was this your
daughter sheep? Too bad, I’m after Julian, can’t slow down or
I’ll lose him!’ Honestly, it’s like he
isn’t…”

Mel grabbed a handful of Julian’s fake leather jacket as he came past
and yanked him down onto the sofa beside her. He looked startled and
disorientated, like a somnambulist being unceremoniously awoken. He blinked at
Mel as though only just now noticing her.

“You’ll give yourself an aneurysm going on like that,” Mel
said coolly, lighting up a cigarette.

Her words were the scissors that cut the strings of Julian’s loosely
gathered sanity. He crumpled in on himself, burying his face in his hands. For
one horrified moment, Mel thought he might be crying. But he just groaned, a
long pitiful noise like that of a wounded animal.

“It’s all gone tits up, hasn’t it?” he mumbled into
his palms.

It had in fact, in Mel’s opinion, gone tits up. Julian’s best
friend, Rahul — the “jazzy giraffe freak” — had told
Julian’s creepy blond boyfriend, Michael, that Rahul and Julian had
slept together. Michael had ended things with Julian. Julian had clobbered
Rahul (a very un-Julian-like thing to do). Rahul then confessed his undying
love for Julian and Julian had… run off. Cowardly little prick.

Rahul wasn’t just Julian’s best friend, he was also the most
musically talented member of their band — a band Mel played bass in, mind.
Without him, the band would dissolve into nothing and Julian would be left
rudderless. He lived for their shite band. Hell, he lived for Rahul. The two
of them needed each other like foxes needed bins. This melodramatic
love-triangle nonsense was going to make all of their lives positively
implode. Well, maybe not Mel’s life. She owned a record shop and
she’d be fine. And maybe not Kwambe’s life either. He was too cool
to be affected by anything. But definitely Julian and Rahul’s lives, and
Mel had sworn, years ago when her and Julian’s mum had started drinking,
that she would look out for her empty-headed brother and keep him safe.
She’d been fixing his life ever since. She’d be damned if she
wasn’t going to fix it this time.

“It ain’t so bad,” Mel told Julian. She nudged him until he
peeked out between the fingers he held over his eyes. She extended a cigarette
to him. He took it and let her light it for him. It was the most affectionate
gesture she’d offered him in quite some time. “One of you could be
dead. That’d really be something to cry about.”

He threw her a withering glare with his red-rimmed eyes.

“So, you shagging that Michael bloke, then?”

Julian choked slightly on the smoke in his throat. He’d never told her,
in so many words, that he was dating Michael. Michael had just shown up one
day, hanging around Julian, while Julian stared at him with the eyes of a boy
looking at a bloody Christmas tree. Julian had also never told her he was a
bit bent either, but Mel had worked that out on her own, too.

Julian fidgeted with the cigarette butt in his fingers. It was odd to see
him… if not embarrassed, then apprehensive. He usually did things like
he couldn’t give a shit what others thought, though Mel knew that was a
load of horse shite. He acted like he didn’t care, but no one cared more
what other people thought than Julian Collier. He’d been caring since
they were kids, only he’d gotten better at pretending. The thing is,
when you want people to think you’re really cool, you have to get them
to think you don’t care what they think. Julian was also obsessed with
people thinking he was a little daft. That much was lucky, because, as far as
Mel was concerned, he was a little daft.

He nervously pushed his fringe off his forehead only for it to flop back down
at an uneven angle. “Yeah. Or, well, I was.”

“He chucked you ‘cause you and Rahul shagged?”

“That sounds like we did it yesterday,” Julian whinged. “It
was ages and ages ago. Back at uni. And we were both drunk as you like. It
didn’t even count, if you ask me.” Despite himself, he was going
quite red around the ears and getting splotchy red patches high on his cheeks.
“I’d forgotten all about it. I can’t even believe Rahul
remembered. And that he told Michael. Imagine that!”

It was all coming together now. She remembered the trip Julian had taken up
North to visit Rahul, only to come back one day early, all jumpy and not
wanting to talk about it. Afterward, he’d not seen Rahul for years.
Then, when Rahul came back, they were all distant and weird around each other.
They’d had a drunken fumble together, of course. For one of them it was
just an awkward night that had compromised a friendship. For the other…

“He also told you that he loves you,” Mel reminded him around her
cigarette butt.

Julian folded his arms and hunched his shoulders in that way he did when he
was stopping himself from covering his ears like he would’ve as a little
kid. “Whatever. He’s confused. I dunno. He can’t love me.
That’s just mental. He’s my best mate — he was my best mate. He
just thinks he’s in love with me ‘cause he loves me, you know,
like friends or whatever. And anyway, that’s the other reason Michael
dumped me, you know? He could see Rahul’s all obsessed with me and he
didn’t want to get himself in the middle of whatever it is we’ve
got going on. He didn’t want to end up like Aisling did. Having rows all
the time ‘cause Rahul’s put himself between us.”

Hearing the name of Julian’s ex-girlfriend gave Mel pause. “Were
you shagging him when you were still with Aisling?”

Julian dropped his cigarette. He retrieved it before it could burn a hole in
the carpet next to the constellation of cigarette burns already there.
“No. ‘Course not,” he said defensively in the way he did
when he was lying. “I’d never cheat on her, would I?”

“I don’t know,” Mel said. “Would you?”

“I mean — all right, so I’d started seeing him a bit when we were
still together,” Julian immediately capitulated. Mel beamed. So she
could still wheedle the truth out of her brother after all. “But we
didn’t sleep together or anything. It wasn’t cheating. Not
really.” He was imploring as if Mel were the barrister presiding over
his case. She was only a curious third party with no stake in the game. So she
merely shrugged.

He ran an unhappy hand through his hair, which by now was standing up at all
sorts of odd angles. “What am I gonna do?”

“What you’ve gotta do is get your shit together. Both of you. I
got a business to run, you know? What am I supposed to do? Sack one of you and
hire somebody neither of you ballbags have fucked? And we got a band, or have
you forgotten that as well?”

“I thought you hated the band.”

“I do, but I’ve started counting on that extra gig dosh.” It
felt good to pay for her grass with money that didn’t come directly from
her dead nan’s business. “And you love the damned thing. Are you
gonna find yourself a replacement keyboardist slash guitarist who shares your
same crazy vision of a dystopian soundscape? Think it’s easy to find one
of them? You gonna put an ad out in The Sun?”

“Why don’t you ask Rahul?” Julian cried. “He’s
the one who’s gone and cocked everything up! It’s his fault for
having feelings — or thinking he’s got feelings. If he weren’t
obsessed with me, he’d have never sabotaged my relationship. If he were
following somebody else around like a bleeding puppy, then maybe me and
Michael would still be together.”

“That’s it,” Mel said, snapping her fingers in the air.

“What is?” Julian asked dubiously.

“We need to set Rahul up with somebody. Get him to fall in love with
somebody else. That way Michael won’t have anything to worry about and
the two of you can make up. Then you and Rahul can get back to being mates,
and Bob’s your uncle — everything back to normal.”

Julian’s dubiosity had not dissipated. “You reckon? I
dunno.” He made a face somewhere between a sneer and a wince that made
it look like he was about to sneeze. “He’s been building his
feelings up for me for years, said so himself. I don’t think we can come
in with some, erm…”

“Bloke. He is gay, you know.”

“Right — some bloke — and think he’ll be all gone on him in two
shakes and forget all about me. He thinks he loves me, you know? That’s
massive, that is. When someone’s got gangrene, you don’t come in
with a plaster and think that’s gonna make it all better.”

“Trust me. I know what I’m doing. You leave it all up to me.
I’ll sort it. I always do.” And even though she was wearing her
best smug expression, he still had the gall to look less than convinced.

 

About the Author

As a queer, nonbinary, person of color, Nicky Silber has made it their mission
to bring diversity into all of their creative outlets. Born in New York,
raised in Mexico, they studied fine art in San Francisco and have worked in
the video game industry since 2012. They currently live in the wilds of North
Carolina with their young son and too many pets. Their only two goals in life
are to continue to tell queer love stories and, to a lesser extent, finally
knit their own sweater.

 

Contact Links

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Nicky on Threads

Nicky on TikTok

 

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BOOK BLITZ & GIVEAWAY: Dragon Descending by Jennifer Allis Provost

Dragon Descending
Jennifer Allis Provost
(Fire and Claw, #2)
Publication date: September 1st 2026
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance

Dragons value family above all else—but when a dragon shifter can’t shift, how will he protect the ones he loves?

Lochlyn Blackmoor, the last dragon shifter in Alessia, has lost his ability to shift. Heartened by a prediction that he will shift again, Lochlyn retreats to Dragon Ridge with his beloved wife, Rosalie. They’re content to enjoy a quiet life, until they receive unsettling news from the capital city.

The king’s seer has been marked for death, all because she helped him free Rosalie’s sister from the king’s clutches.

Despite his current weakness, Lochlyn embarks on a mission to rescue the seer with his brother-in-law and spymaster in tow. Almost immediately, one of their few allies—Arthus Flameborn, Grand Master of the Order of the Phoenix, who also happens to be Rosalie’s grandfather—abandons them. As they run out of time and options, Lochlyn turns to a former foe for assistance: Basilisk, the same rogue shifter he freed from the Order’s dungeon, and nearly killed him.

Basilisk proves himself a worthy ally, and his vast knowledge Alessia’s royal family comes in handy more than once. As more of Basilisk’s past is revealed, Lochlyn learns Alessia’s darkest, most dangerous secret, information so deadly It could unravel everything he’s ever known. To make matters worse, the ruthless Grand Master wants to form a relationship with his granddaughter, Rosalie, and he doesn’t care who he hurts in the process—not even Rosalie.

And only a dragon can overpower the Grand Master.

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EXCERPT:

Lochlyn Blackmoor hated waiting.

Yet it was all he’d done for months—waiting for blowback from Serpens about their daring rescue of Caterina and Curran. For news of the rampaging basilisk he and Curran had freed from the palace dungeons. Or for the Grand Master to appear in the courtyard demanding to see his family.

Waiting to be able to shift again.

Nothing happened.

Lochlyn set his hands on the balcony’s railing, and watched the early morning activity in the castle’s courtyard. While he appreciated the calm days and nights they’d enjoyed at Dragon Ridge, retribution was inevitable. He’d insulted the king, committed several acts of treason, and set the palace on fire. King Olivar wasn’t a forgiving man; he was more likely to take Lochlyn’s head and mount it on his wall.

Still. Nothing.

Perhaps Olivar was taking his time so Lochlyn would slowly descend into madness.

Laughter floated toward him, a bright sound that Lochlyn would know anywhere. He turned toward the gardens, and saw Rosalie walking with her sister, Caterina. They both carried baskets of flowers, but behind Rosalie’s basket was her rounded belly, and inside her belly was their child.

Their child’s birth was something else Lochlyn was waiting for, and for that he was most impatient of all.

He and Rosalie already had three adopted children, and he loved them and his nephew, Jonathan, dearly. Somehow, he found yet another measure of love in his heart for this child he’d yet to meet, a babe who would be a dragon, like him.

As the strongest of the Otherworldly creatures, Lochlyn’s own dragon blood meant the child would definitely take after him, but they wouldn’t know if the child would be able to shift until he was around a year old. While Lochlyn could attain both dragon and warrior forms, his eldest brother could only shift to warrior, and his middle brothers couldn’t shift at all.

Whether the child could shift or not didn’t matter to Lochlyn. Either way, he couldn’t wait to meet their baby. Before Rosalie fell pregnant, Lochlyn had been the last living dragon in Alessia. Now both his kind and his name would live on, thanks to his beautiful wife.

“Lochlyn,” Rosalie called from the courtyard, waving to get his attention as if he hadn’t already been entranced by her every move. “There were some daisies in bloom, and the birds spared us some blackberries.”

“And elderberries,” Caterina added, holding up her basket. “Madchen can make more of her famous wine.”

Lochlyn laughed softly; there were enough casks of Madchen’s elderberry wine in the castle’s cellar to get half of Alessia drunk. “Are you two coming in for lunch?”

Rosalie opened her mouth to reply, but whatever she said was drowned out by the thunder of a dozen hooves. Lochlyn looked toward the gate and saw three gigantic stags enter the courtyard. The central and largest stag approached Rosalie and bowed.

“Hello, Cervus,” Rosalie said as the stag’s antlers scraped the ground near her feet. “And you really don’t need to be so dramatic. Will you join us for lunch?”

Cervus raised his head, and after he glanced at the balcony, he and his two companions went toward the stables. Lochlyn watched them depart, then he returned his gaze to his wife. His leisurely afternoon with Rosalie would have to wait. As Lochlyn’s spymaster, Cervus had been in Serpens for the past three weeks, gathering information. For him to personally return to Dragon Ridge instead of sending one of his messengers, he must have learned something especially dire.

Author Bio:

Jennifer Allis Provost writes books about faeries, orcs and elves. Zombies, too. She grew up in the wilds of Western Massachusetts and had read every book in the local library by age twelve. (It was a small library.) An early love of mythology and folklore led to her romantic fantasy series, Fire and Claw, and her degree in environmental science helped shape her urban fantasy, Poison Garden. When she’s not writing about murderous plants or sexy dragon shifters she’s working on her MFA in Creative Nonfiction.

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RELEASE BLITZ & GIVEAWAY: Uprising by J.E. Rizzo

Book One of the Fitzjohn Duology

Historical Fiction with Speculative and Romantic Elements

Date Published: 09-01-2026

Publisher: Literary Wanderlust

England, 1381 AD: Blanche Fitzjohn is an outcast in her small coastal
village. Not only is she the illegitimate daughter of John of Gaunt, the man
responsible for her neighbors’ over-taxation, but she possesses strange
abilities: hearing sound from miles away and smelling people’s emotions.

She takes solace in her studies with the local wisewoman and in her friendship
with Geoff, a groom at the local manor. Until the day Henry of Lancaster,
Blanche’s half-brother, brings her news of an arranged marriage to Sir
Thomas Prescott, Constable of the Tower of London. Although she smells cruelty
on him, Blanche agrees to marry Thomas in the hopes that her influence may
help better the lives of Geoff and all England’s villeins.

But soon, the peasants’ discontent turns to revolt. Though her heart is
of the people, Blanche’s nobility makes her an enemy to the rebels. To
save herself and Henry from the executioner’s ax, Blanche must use every
power at her disposal, even those she once considered a curse.

About the Author

 

 J.E. Rizzo is a life-long history fanatic and writer of historical fiction,
and her work can be found in Vanity Fair, The Boston Globe, The Guardian, The
Tudor Times, Tudor Life Magazine, Scary Mommy, and Ultrarunning Magazine.
Rizzo won Manuscript Academy’s Agent Choice Award in 2024, and her
article Past and Precedence: Abortion Law in the Middle Ages and Its Use to
Overturn Roe v. Wade won History Inquiry’s Medieval History Writing
Challenge.

By day, Rizzo works in Human Resources—a field offering more than ample
opportunity to observe the follies and fancies of humankind. Before her career
in HR, Rizzo worked as an opera singer, a professional baker, and a dog
walker. These days, when not writing she can be found running ultramarathons
through the forests and mountains of New England, knitting, reading, sewing,
baking, or performing any number of (what some might call) old-lady hobbies.
She also keeps busing caring for her two children and forty-seven houseplants,
making her husband carry heavy things and cook her gourmet meals, and
rehabilitating her rescue dog and semi-feral ginger cat.

 

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BOOK BLITZ: WhiteGrass by Richard Smith

A CliFi Technothriller

Date Published: October 24, 2025

Publisher: Manhattan Book Group

In 2048, the planet is running out of time.

Superstorms flatten cities. Coastlines collapse. Climate change is no longer
theoretical—it is lethal. When a near-apocalyptic storm nearly kills
their family, teenage siblings Jimmy and Lizzie Marshall urge their brilliant
but reluctant father, nanoscientist Greg Marshall, to deploy a technology
before he’s brave enough to release it.


WhiteGrass
—a self-replicating nanotechnology capable of removing carbon
from the atmosphere is the parent technology. It saves golf courses and ski
resorts and the towns they serve. Icarus could reverse climate change on a
global scale. It could also reshape global power forever.

To protect the technology, Greg and his wife Ginny, an elite AI expert,
reprogram the world’s most advanced humanoid android, Valada. Designed
as property—an object without rights—Valada begins to evolve,
developing emotional awareness, moral judgment, and something disturbingly
close to humanity.

As governments unravel and climate disasters accelerate, a covert alliance of
oligarchs, corporations, and political power brokers moves to seize
WhiteGrass/Icarus for themselves. Led by the President of the United States,
the syndicate will stop at nothing—surveillance, blackmail,
assassination—to control the technology that could save the world or
enslave it.

They deploy their own deadly android.

Now the Marshalls are trapped in a global sci-fi political conspiracy, hunted
by forces with unlimited resources, as skyscrapers fall, cities burn, and
artificial intelligence begins to ask questions no human is prepared to
answer.

“We call it ‘Climate Change,’” Lizzie interrupted,
“because it’s not just the heat.”

“It’s everything—the rains, the droughts, the storms, the
sea level… even the acidification.”
It could change everything.

At its core, WhiteGrass is a gripping near-future climate change thriller
about family survival, technological power, and the terrifying moment when
artificial intelligence stops serving humanity—and starts judging it.

Blending nanotechnology science fiction, AI humanoid emotional evolution, and
hard-science realism, WhiteGrass delivers relentless pacing, cinematic stakes,
and deeply human emotion. It is a story about parents willing to risk
everything to protect their children—and a world forced to confront
whether it deserves saving at all.

Perfect for fans of near-future disaster thrillers, technothrillers with
political intrigue
, and science fiction where artificial intelligence becomes
human
, WhiteGrass is a powerful warning—and an unforgettable ride.

 

About the Author

Richard H. Smith, MSc.

Author | Futurist | Nanotechnology & Policy Expert | Climate
Technothriller Writer

Richard H. Smith, MSc., is a futurist, technologist, and climate policy expert
whose career has placed him at the intersection of nanotechnology, artificial
intelligence, healthcare innovation, and climate change foresight
for more
than three decades. Drawing on real-world experience working alongside
scientists, engineers, Fortune 50 companies, and Ohgovernment agencies, Smith
writes hard science fiction grounded in plausible futures, where technology
collides with political power, ethics, and human survival.

Smith’s professional background spans leadership roles in nanotechnology
R&D, AI-based medical diagnostics, strategic technology forecasting, and
science policy
, including serving as research director at a major university
medical center and founding multiple technology ventures. He has advised U.S.
and international governments on emerging technologies and was formally
trained on climate change science by Al Gore, giving him a rare combination of
technical depth and policy insight.

Raised in Virginia, Smith built his career while raising a family—an
experience that deeply informs the emotional core of his fiction. Today, he
lives in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware, a coastal community already facing the
realities of sea-level rise. He teaches courses on climate change and coastal
vulnerability, witnessing firsthand how future scenarios are rapidly becoming
present-day realities.


WhiteGrass
is Smith’s first full-length novel and the culmination of a
lifetime spent studying how advanced technologies shape—and
endanger—civilization. The novel explores nanotechnology, climate
collapse, political conspiracy, and artificial intelligence becoming human
,
all through the lens of family survival in a destabilized near-future world. A
prequel, The Iliad Virus, is available now, with the sequel Icarus Rising
currently in development.

Smith writes with one driving purpose: to expose uncomfortable truths about
climate change, technological power, and political control—while telling
a story compelling enough to feel like a blockbuster movie unfolding on the
page.

 

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BOOK BLITZ: Play Along, Sweetheart by Nancy Pirri

Contemporary Romance

Date Published: August 10, 2026

Their relationship is fake. Their chemistry is not.

Chicago social worker, Maggie O’Hara, arrives at the Minneapolis airport
where she awaits the arrival of her family to pick her up and take her home
with them for Thanksgiving. She’s nervous, due to the surprise she has
for them in her arms—her newly adopted baby girl from Korea. With little
thought, Maggie grabs a stranger getting off the same airplane, and asks him
to portray himself, temporarily, as her fiancé. She knows that her
old-fashioned family will disapprove of the adoption because she’s not
married. What Maggie doesn’t count on is falling in love with Dr. Nick
Capra, who does more than a passable job of posing as her fiancé that
day, and over the holiday week.

From the moment Maggie snags Nick, a confirmed bachelor, his gut tells him his
single days are over and that she’s the woman for him. While posing as
her fiancé he tells her he wants to be a permanent part of her life.
While Maggie has fallen in love with Nick, she has a secret that could ruin
their chances of being together, though she refuses to divulge the secret to
him—until the choice is taken out of her hands.

 

About the Author

 

 Nancy Schumacher is the owner-publisher of Melange Books, LLC, writing under
the pseudonyms, Nancy Pirri and Natasha Perry. Being a publisher doesn’t
allow much time for the creative process of writing and publishing her own
works, but every once in a while it happens.

She is an associate member of Romance Writers of America (RWA). She is also
one of the founders of the RWA chapter, Northern Lights Writers (NLW), in
Minnesota.

 

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