Book Blitz: Damaged Gods by K.C. Cross #monsters #paranormalromance @JAHuss

Damaged Gods
JA Huss writing as KC Cross
Publication date: July 27th 2021
Genres: Paranormal/Monster Romance

When I answered an ad for a caretaker at Saint Mark’s Sanctuary I thought I’d be dusting chandeliers and polishing floors. I didn’t expect to be tricked into a curse, going in debt to a monster, and being forced to take a self-paced “Let’s Learn Magic” course so I can fix a two-thousand-year-old problem.

And that monster?
Not your ordinary, everyday beast.
He has hooves, and horns, and fur on his legs.
But ya know where he doesn’t have fur?
Yep. There.
Which is fine.
Except he doesn’t wear pants.

Nothing at Saint Mark’s is exactly what it seems.
The entire inside is magic, the hallways upstairs are nothing but parties from the past, and the super-hot guy who lives in the dungeon?
Yeah.
Not human.

My name is Pie and all I want is to be a normal girl with an average life.
I refuse to get stuck in this curse.
I refuse to learn magic to break it.
And there is no way in hell I will fall in love with a monster.

Famous.
Last.
Words.

DAMAGED GODS is a fun paranormal monster romance about a girl named Pie who accidentally stumbles into a monster’s 2000-year-old curse only to find she’s exactly where she’s supposed to be.

Goodreads / Amazon / Audible

EXCERPT:

“If this kills me—”

“If this kills you, you should thank me. Since you’re immortal. That means your curse would be broken.”

Well. She’s got a point there. I put the test tube up to my lips, almost pass out from the horrible smell, then down it in one gulp. It hits my stomach with a burn.

“The burn passes,” Pie says hurriedly. And she puts her hand on my arm, either faking compassion or really meaning it.

Her touch is warm too. And something about it does make me feel better. Soon, the burn is gone and in its place is a tingling feeling in my hands. Then a buzzing in my head.

“Did you get to the buzzing yet?” she asks. I nod. “Good. You’re almost there. Now, while we’re waiting for it to work, let’s talk about this job.”

“No.” I put up a hand. “Not now.”

“Yes. I need a job. Just a part-time one. The Honey Bean is looking for a waitress. I need that, Pell. And I will use all my money to buy what we need and then I won’t have to go into debt.”

“You don’t get it. That won’t work. The harder you fight the curse, the more it works against you. The less magic money you use, the more the curse will force you to use it. Bad things will happen. And that will force you to work harder to…” I pause, not really wanting to say the last bit.

“Harder to what?” she presses.

“Please me. The harder you’ll have to work to please me with the debt book stuff.”

She points a finger in my face. “I will not be blowing you. Just… FYI.”

I cannot hide my laugh. “Good to know. And for the record, Pie, you’re not my type.”

She lifts her chin up in indignation like I just insulted her. “I’m not your type?”

“Nope.”

“What kind of type do you like? Bull girls?”

“I’m not a bull.”

“A satyr chimera girl?”

“There are no female satyr chimeras. We’re all men.”

“Then what is your type?” And now she’s annoyed.

I shrug. “I’ve always been partial to the nymphs.”

“Nymphs.” She crinkles her nose like the thought of nymphs is distasteful. “Water fairies?”

“Not fairies. Nymphs. You know. Willowy girls with evil intentions lurking in the forest.”

She laughs. A real laugh. “You like bad girls?”

“I do.”

“I’m not bad enough for you?”

“Not even close.”

Author Bio:

JA Huss is a New York Times Bestselling author and has been on the USA Today Bestseller’s list 21 times. She writes characters with heart, plots with twists, and perfect endings. Her books have sold millions of copies all over the world. Her book, Eighteen, was nominated for a Voice Arts Award and an Audie Award in 2016 and 2017 respectively. Her audiobook, Mr. Perfect, was nominated for a Voice Arts Award in 2017. Her audiobook, Taking Turns, was nominated for an Audie Award in 2018. Her book, Total Exposure, was nominated for a RITA Award in 2019.

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Release Blitz: The Edge of Chaos by J. Saman #NewAdultRomance #Billionaire @jsamanbooks @greyspromo

The Edge of Chaos by J. Saman is now live!

You know that awful moment when you realize you accidentally slept with your best friend’s older brother?
I met him on my last New Year’s Eve in New York. Sparks flew. Madness ensued. And after the hottest night of my life, I ran out on him.
Three years later he and I come face-to-face again.
Now do I not only learn his name but realize the heat between us hasn’t dissipated for a second.
Thankfully, I’m a woman who can spot his type from miles away. Especially when my friend goes on to explain just how off-limits her older brother is. A player who has wrecked her friends’ hearts a time or twenty.
He doesn’t agree.
In fact, the gorgeous and persistent man believes we should pick up exactly where we left off three years ago.
Sorry, not gonna happen. My life is already filled with more chaos than I can handle and the last thing I need is some hot playboy adding to it.
Only he turns out to be so much more than I expected. Intoxicating and impossible to resist—all over my place, his stairs, it doesn’t matter. We’re insatiable.
Now I just have to figure out how to keep my heart out of the game.
Not so easy to do when he’s determined to win it.

 Download today or read for FREE with Kindle Unlimited!
https://geni.us/TEOC

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Meet J. Saman

J. Saman is a USA Today bestselling author who is addicted to Diet Coke, sour candy, and indie rock. She swears way too much (especially after a glass of wine) and has a penchant for sarcasm (or so her husband and children like to tell her).

She’s an admitted lover of second chance romances, love triangles, and the perfect amount of angst. She is best known for writing contemporary romance filled with smart, strong women, and sexy alphas who have a softer side–especially for their women.
 
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Release Blitz: A Crowe’s Song by Leddy Harper #RomanticSuspense #SecondChance @LeddyHarper @greyspromo

A Crowe’s Song by Leddy Harper is now live!

Some secrets can’t stay buried forever…

A dusty old journal led me to a forgotten town full of drowned love, sunken promises, and a stranger with familiar eyes and a rumbly voice that made my soul beg for more. 

Drew’s dark eyes and warm, soft lips were like a memory of a place I’d never visited. They made me believe that our meeting had been set in the stars, as if Fate had schemed with Destiny and devised this elaborate plot to bring us together. 

With each day I spent at Black Bird Resort, I learned more of Drew’s history. And the more I learned, the more I questioned. 

Until I realized just how much the past could tear us apart. 

I may not have been prepared for the journey fate had led me on, but no one was prepared for the reason why.

 Download today for $2.99 or read for FREE with Kindle Unlimited!
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WW: http://mybook.to/acrowess

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Meet Leddy Harper

At the age of fourteen, Leddy Harper wrote her first book and never stopped. She often calls writing her therapy, using it as a way to deal with issues through the eyes of her characters. She published her first book to teach her children to go after what they want, love what they do and do it well, and to show them what it means to overcome their fears.
 
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Book Blitz: Flash Point by Luna Joya #paranormalromance @lunajoyawriter

Flash Point
Luna Joya
(Legacy Series, #5)
Publication date: June 29th 2021
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

Banish the demon, stop the prophecy, and do not fall in love. Easy, right? Yeah, not so much.

Mina Donovan is a woman of many talents. Fire elemental, psychic, Legacy witch, magical asset for an FBI paranormal task force…she does it all. Her latest struggle? Not crushing on her sexy best friend. Logically, she knows they can’t be together. Too bad her heart has never bothered with logic.

The friend zone is the last place pyro expert Josh wants to be with Mina. Not that he has any choice in the matter. A witch hunter falling for a witch? Not smart. He’ll just have to learn to ignore his attraction to the gorgeous woman who already owns so much of his heart.

If Mina and Josh have any hope of finding their way to happily ever after, they’ll have to banish an all-powerful demon and take down an evil magical organization. Oh, and they’ll also have to figure out how to stop the prophecy that warns a dragon will consume Mina.

It’ll take more than magic to fix this supernatural dilemma.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

Chapter One

The staked witch burst into flames. Mina swore and jumped clear of the blaze. By the powers, she’d lit the wrong target with her elemental magic.

Again.

At least it’d only been a mannequin.

The camera above the door blinked a steady red, a judgment of her failure. Her boss could be watching right now. Or worse—her sisters.

Embarrassment sent hot tingles across her skin, and her pulse thudded louder in her ears than the massive fan above. Why couldn’t she control her powers?

If this had been one of her video games, she’d wield her magic with precision worthy of a stupendous title. Something inspiring. Something enviable. Something that would make her, Mina Donovan, legendary.

Second spare to the heir of a ruling witch family? Yeah, not so much.

Reality sucked in every supernatural way. Or at least it had these last few weeks.

Her actual targets—giant cotton balls tacked to a wall across the room—mocked her with their bright white while the mannequin and its formerly Mean-Girls-esque you-can’t-sit-with-us designer threads burned like a tiki torch.

“You missed.” Of course her district attorney sister picked that moment to walk into the room. Delia was everything Mina wasn’t—accomplished, distinguished, polished. Never mind how her sister’s blue-eyed, blonde-haired dressed-to-the-elevens flawlessness compared to her own frizzy-curled, height-deprived, rolled-out-of-bed look. “Unless you’re practicing to light one of us up like a witchy sparkler?”

“Hardly.” Being recruited to a secret FBI task force right after college had seemed cool. But it should’ve come with a neon warning: “All loved ones may be collateral damage.” Last night, her oldest sister and baby niece had almost died. Not her fault entirely, but that didn’t ease her guilt. Or help her get a grip on her powers. The now flaming mannequin was proof of that. “What happened to safety cones and boring bulls-eyes for training? Whose idea was it to put humanish targets in here anyway?”

“The boss’s. A13 wanted to test your aim so you won’t torch us out in the field. After this little demonstration, I’ll be sure to stay out of the line of—”

“Don’t say it.” Mina jabbed the button for the secondary exhaust system to blast out her know-it-all sister’s opinions as much as smoke. If she’d heard one bad fire joke, she’d heard them all from her snarky sisters.

The roar of the combined fans wasn’t enough to shut Delia up. “Good thing this place is retrofitted for magical elements training. One wrong spark in LA, and the whole city burns.”

Not the reminder Mina needed right now. She changed the subject. “Who decided on the witch hat and the giant demon dummy?” Red-sequined horns sparkled in the light from the fire.

“My fiancé has a sick sense of humor. You started that little inferno. You going to put it out?”

“Yes.” She hoped. But when she pulsed a thread of magic toward the mannequin, the flames shot higher than its pointed hat.

“Did you mean to make the fire worse?”

“Yep.”

Delia’s yeah-right look was a speed dial straight to Mina’s self-doubt.

If the place had been made of anything but concrete, the fire would’ve raced across the room taking everything out. As it was, black circles spread in a messy scrawl on the ceiling.

Mina closed her eyes. The orange glow burned behind her lids, a flashing pyrotechnics show that didn’t help her maxed-out stress levels. With a deep breath, she imagined darkness where there was light. When she dared a peek, the fire was gone. Thank the powers.

“Quick work.” Delia sounded almost impressed. “Maybe we should race sometime.”

“Right, except if you’d used your air element, we’d both be unconscious. Me from oxygen deprivation and you from magic drain.” Petty, but true.

Delia’s powers would have her blonde butt on the floor within seconds—the price of her whirlwind-slinging element. Then the designer diva would be pissed off that she’d gotten soot on her suit. The tornado-tosser looked anything but amused. “Okay, super witch.” Which sounded like a not-so-subtle reference to another word ending in –itch. This was big sister bossiness at its worst. “Care to hit any of the real targets now? I thought you’d been working on this during your training sessions.”

“Don’t you have something better to do? Like making out with your fiancé? Since that’s all I see you doing these days when you’re training.” Mina wiggled her fingers in air quotes with the last word.

“Jealous?”

“Nope.” She totally was. Legacy daughters—those witches born to rule the witch Senate—were traditionally forced into arranged matches for powerful bloodlines and big bank accounts. But not her sisters. No. They’d each risen above that to find true freaking love. “So why don’t you get back to your guy instead of interrupting me?”

“Don’t be such a brat. I was just checking on you.”

Because Mina was the screw-up baby sister. Not as bad as their brother, but he’d set the bar low. As in conspiring with the Revelare, a demon-led organization looking to overthrow the witch Senate—that kind of low. “I can do this by myself.”

Author Bio:

Luna Joya writes sexy hexy romances in the award-winning Legacy Series.

Fluent in sarcasm and penal code, Luna prosecutes by day and writes at night. She loves history, especially Los Angeles and Hollywood lore.

A survivor of traumatic brain injury with steel body parts, she lives in SoCal with her combat veteran husband and their two-pound terror of a rescue pup.

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Book Blitz: Honeybees and Sexy Tees by Katie Mettner #romanticsuspense @KatieMettner

Honeybees & Sexy Tees
Katie Mettner
Publication date: July 20th 2021
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense

The devil is in the details, and the Lady of the Lake holds the clue.

Honey Blois is no stranger to pain. The lasting effects of an abusive childhood have made her life challenging, but it’s the ache of unrequited love she can no longer bear. When her confession goes unanswered, she has no choice but to fall out of love with her best friend.

Mathias Jørgensen is living a lie. The billionaire playboy buries the pain of loving the one woman he can’t have with flashy cars and bad decisions—until Honey’s letter comes to light. With renewed hope for the future, he vows to find his way back to the boy she fell in love with if it’s the last thing he does.

And it might be.

As the pair blurs the line between friends and lovers, his unscrupulous past demands a reckoning. To save the woman he loves from a watery grave, Mathias will have to remember every last detail of the life he’s desperate to forget.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

I had dreamed of kissing my best friend for as long as I could remember. Now, here I was in the middle of the most romantic place in Plentiful, his lips pressed to mine and my heart pounding in my chest. Who was this man? Why was he kissing me? How had I missed how much he’d changed over the last year? Was my Mattie finely going to rise up and take control? I sighed again.

Mattie was kissing me.

Finally, my soul was connected with what it had needed for twenty years. Its mate.

His lips left mine slowly, and I waited. I waited to open my eyes and find out all of this was a dream. Instead, I opened them to the lake blue of his. I dropped my arms from around his neck and brought one hand to my lips in a haze of shock and lust.

“Why—why did you do that?” My voice shook from the array of emotions coursing through me. I was drowning in the love that swelled inside my heart for this man. I couldn’t catch my breath, and I wasn’t sure I ever would again.

He ran his thumb over my lips with tenderness and wonder. “Because I’ve been pretending that I haven’t wanted to for years.”

“And now you’re done pretending?” I was unsure of myself when I spoke, and I didn’t want to say too much before letting him explain.

“No,” he said with a dazed head shake. “Now I had to know if I was crazy.”

“You had to kiss me to know if you were crazy?” The thrumming of my heart paused in my chest while I waited for his answer.

His gaze darted away from mine while he put his thoughts together. The expression on his face and the stiffness of his spine told me he was looking for the right way to describe what he was feeling. “I guess curiosity is a better word.”

Anger filled me and overpowered the love I’d found just moments ago. I pushed myself up off the bench with purpose. “I’m thrilled to have appeased your curiosity then.” My voice and body shook from the soul-shattering pain of betrayal. “Don’t mistake me for one of your playthings, Mathias Jørgensen. You don’t get to use me to relieve an itch or as a gauge of how well you’re doing in the morality department.”

He opened his mouth, but I held up my hand. “I can’t, Mathias. No, you know what? You can’t. You can’t do this to me when you know how I feel about you. It’s not fair,” I whispered right before I disappeared into the trees, tears on my face and my life with him over.

I almost collapsed to one knee at the thought. Tears fell down my cheeks, and I wiped them away as I plowed on into a new life. I didn’t know where I was going to go or what I was going to do, but I did know it would no longer be with him. I might need someone to watch over me but allowing Mathias to be that someone was no longer possible. Not after that kiss. It was more than I’d ever dreamed it could be, and now the memory of it would break my heart over and over for the rest of my days.

Author Bio:

Katie Mettner writes small-town romantic tales, filled with epic love stories and happily-ever-afters. She proudly wears the title of ‘the only person to lose her leg after falling down the bunny hill’ and loves decorating her prosthetic with the latest fashion trends. She lives in Northern Wisconsin with her own happily-ever-after and three mini-mes. Katie has a massive addiction to coffee and Twitter, and a lessening aversion to Pinterest— now that she’s quit trying to make the things she pins.

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Release Blitz: My Greatest Mistake by T. Gephart #RomanticComedy #ContemporaryRomance @tinagephart @greyspromo

My Greatest Mistake by T. Gephart is now live!

Love isn’t fated.
And anything revealed by a sideshow fortune teller about soulmates is also bogus.
But when the same unique name is called over the loudspeaker at a hospital years later, even a skeptic like Zara can’t fight the curiosity.
And when he turns out to be a witty, good-looking, intelligent and successful lawyer, a girl might rethink her stance.
But is he everything he claims to be? Or is he too good to be true?
Crazy attraction and an undeniable connection make for a lethal combination.
And he is either her ultimate true love or her greatest mistake.

  Download today!
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Meet T. Gephart

T Gephart is a USA Today and International bestselling author from Melbourne, Australia.
With an approach to life that is somewhat unconventional, she prefers to fly by the seat of her pants rather than adhere to some rigid roadmap. Her lack of “plan” has resulted in a rather interesting and eclectic resume, which reads more like the fiction she writes than an actual employment history. She’d tell you all about it, but the statute of limitations hasn’t expired yet. But all those crazy twists and turns have led her to a career she loves–writing romantic comedy.
When she isn’t filling pages with sassy and sexy characters with attitude, she’s living her own reality show in the ‘burbs of Melbourne with her American husband, two teenage children, and her fur child–Woodley.
She loves adventure, to laugh, travel, and strives to live her life to the fullest.

 
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Preorder: Hellcat Escaping – A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance by Jade Bones #PNR #reverseharem

Title: Hellcat Escaping: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance
Series: Hell’s Fire Burning Book 1
Author: Jade Bones
Genre: Paranormal Reverse Harem. Mature audiences only, 18+.
Release Date: August 10, 2021


 



I’ve been in Hell so long, I don’t remember who I was before this. How did I die? What did I do to deserve the worst torture this place has to offer?

Just kidding—I don’t give a crap. Whatever I did, no one deserves this; it’s time to get out of here. The only problem is, my escape is thwarted by three spoiled demon princes begging to go topside. And now Lucifer, the Devil himself, has stuck his unfairly attractive nose in.

Lucifer promises I can work off some of my debt by guarding these three troublesome princes and keeping them out of mischief. My princes have other plans—beginning and ending with my personal hell on earth, since that’s apparently all a feral soul like me deserves.

I’ll show you what I deserve.

Saddle up, boys. You’re riding with me, now.



Blond hair drips onto his forehead, wet from the shower, and it’s like a complete reversal of the other night. My eyes slide over his body, taking in the droplets of water pooling on his chest, the hint of some kind of swirling tattoo on his forearm. I force my gaze back up to his and find two pale blue eyes staring back at me.

But it isn’t hatred I see there.

Whatever internal war Marek is waging, the side of ice seems to be losing. More often than not, when he looks at me, it’s with searing heat and something bordering on curiosity.

And here-in lies the real problem, and it’s nothing to do with friendship.

I wonder, not for the first time, what it would be like to kiss one of them. You don’t have to like someone to kiss them, and without the animosity to act as a barrier, new thoughts are taking its place. Thoughts that match up to the way these three look at me when they think I’m not watching. To what that searing heat might mean if it’s no longer fury.

That’s been the most annoying discovery about becoming human. In Hell, I only wanted one thing: freedom. There was never any question about whether I should have it or not. But up here, I’m learning I can be mad about things I want.

I can want things I hate.




Jade Bones is a paranormal romance author who loves writing about delicious demons, magical worlds, and steamy romps. She is the author of the My Demon Bound series, featuring standalone one true love paranormal romances, and the Hell’s Fire Burning trilogy, featuring steamy, emotional reverse harem delights. When she isn’t writing, you can find her drinking tea, cuddling her dog, or taking tarot far too seriously.



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Release Blitz: The Glass Demon by Catherine Curzon & Eleanor Harkstead #paranormalromance #historical @totally_bound @firstforromance

The Glass Demon by
Catherine Curzon & Eleanor Harkstead

Book 2 in the The de Chastelaine Chronicles series

Word Count: 66,464
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 245

Genres:

HISTORICAL
PARANORMAL
ROMANCE

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Book Description

What you can’t see could kill you.

When Cecily arrives at her new home with her fiancé, Raf, she’s looking forward to a happy life with all her fears behind her. No longer a put-upon drudge, she is loved and free, ready to explore their new world.

After a summer spent battling the forces of darkness, Raf’s happy to get back to the garden of his chaotic ancestral home. There are flowers to tend and vegetables to harvest and he’s determined to create a perfect sanctuary for Cecily to call her own.

But when a demon made of glass escapes from an ancient church window, the peace of their idyllic village is shattered. Neighbour turns against neighbour, crops turn bad in the soil and flies blacken the air. As a child lingers between life and death, bewitched by the glass demon’s bite, Raf and Cecily must remind the villagers of what really matters and unite the community in a battle to send their infernal tormentor back to hell.

Excerpt

They’d been travelling since early that morning, and Cecily had wrapped herself up in a blanket to keep warm in Raf’s rattly Austin 7. A frost was silvering the landscape when they had set off but once the sun had pushed above the hills and its light had strengthened, the earth had emerged from under its icy crust.

Cecily had never been to Yorkshire before, and certainly never to Acaster Garrow. It almost seemed like a fable whenever Raf mentioned it, and their journey from Devon had been such a long one that Cecily had been half-convinced they’d never arrive.

But eventually Cecily noticed a change. Seagulls swooped overhead and the air took on a briny tang. And once they’d crested a hill, Acaster Garrow was laid out before them, as vivid as a drawing in a child’s book.

Beyond the clustered white cottages and little fishing port and the pointed spire of the church was the wide-open expanse of the sea, gentle waves lapping over its surface and washing against the edge of the sandy beaches. Fishing boats bobbed on the horizon, a little welcoming committee for the returning hero and his new companion. This was her home now, a place where she would love and be loved.

“Smell that fresh air,” Raf declared with a merry smile, drawing in a deep breath. Trapped in the school that had been her prison, Cecily had never seen anyone actually look happy to be home, but she knew that she was seeing it now. “And there’s the sea!”

Cecily gasped. “It’s beautiful. It’s so beautiful, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful before! Where’s your house, Raf? Can we see it from here? Will you show me? Show me everything!

The car puttered to a halt and Raf peered out through the windscreen. When he turned his glittering gaze on Cecily, she felt once more that almost overwhelming surge of love for him that had become her balm and blanket, her comfort when she had thought all hope was gone. They had saved each other in so many ways.

“Right, Miss Sissy Pincombe,” he said. “We can see my house plain as the nose on my admittedly handsome face. But which one could it be? What’s your guess?”

Cecily sat forwards on her seat, her nose almost pressed up against the windscreen. She squinted, and as she did so her vision blurred and the village turned into a daub of colour—the many greens of the trees and grass, the grey stone and the darker grey sea. And—

Cecily shot back in her seat in surprise. She opened her eyes and pointed down into the valley below them. “There—isn’t that your house? All those flowers, all those reds and purples and yellows!”

A blossoming garden in the creeping autumn cool. It can only be Raf’s house.

“That’s it! Our little nest. The de Chastelaine family pile!”

Little? Hardly.

Set a short way outside the village, with its kaleidoscope of a garden ending in the cliff edge, Cecily could see a large, rambling stone house. It was just as she had seen it in her mind when Raf had asked her to use her powers as a sensitive to picture it. It had huge chimneys and a long tree-lined drive, and although it was not more than three storeys high it was wide, which gave it an open, welcoming aspect. The curl of smoke rising from one of the chimneys put her in mind of a cosy fire and she shivered with anticipation. She was coming home.

No wonder I thought it was a hotel when I pictured it.

And all those flowers, and—surely it can’t be blossom, not at this time of year—but from where Cecily sat, she was certain Raf’s garden boasted fruit trees covered in white and pink fluff. A very particular sort of fruit tree, Cecily decided.

And in that garden she’d plant the lavender cutting she’d brought from Devon, though it would seem a paltry little thing next to all those flowering giants.

“What do you think?” Raf asked, his voice filled with the same excitement that Cecily felt at the sheer sight of the place. “It’s missing a bit of southwest lavender and a gorgeous chatelaine called Sissy, but apart from that it’s a nice old place.”

“I’m in love with it already!” Cecily put her arm around Raf and rested her chin on his shoulder. “You’re such a clever gardener. How do you get your garden to look like that in the autumn?”

“Transylvanian magic!” That’s probably true. Raf turned his head and kissed Cecily’s nose. “Ready to go home?”

“Yes!” Cecily clapped her hands. Then she bit her lip, suddenly shy. “Sorry, darling… I don’t mean to carry on like an irritating child…”

“Is that a joke? That’d better be a joke.” He reached up his hand and rested it on Cecily’s cheek. “You’ve got years and years of fun and silly and being loved to make up for. I love you, Sissy. You can be as excited as you like!”

“As long as you’re sure you don’t mind?” Even if she and Raf were in love, Cecily had spent so long with a husband who had been indifferent to her at best that she still wavered. Sometimes she forgot she could be herself now, beholden to no one.

Raf shook his head. Then he grinned, showing those sharp canines that were a clue to his rather unusual heritage. “You’re free. And you’re now one half of Britain’s foremost spiritual operative team. You’re a woman to be reckoned with!”

Cecily sat up straighter in her seat, but she was still a little unsure. It was such a welcoming scene yet she still felt trepidation. She shouldn’t, but she could only think her unease stemmed from the prospect of being around new people in an entirely different environment from what she had known before. “And the people in Acaster Garrow, they won’t mind you’ve brought me home?”

“You’re joking? They’ll probably throw a party!” With that, Raf’s car set off down the hill and they continued on the final leg of what had been a monumental journey. With Raf’s sprawling home in sight Cecily felt nothing but a wonderful sense of homecoming, of belonging in a place she had never even seen except in her mind’s eye. The few people they passed welcomed Raf with a wave or a cry of greeting or, in the case of an elderly man on a bicycle and a younger man fitting a gate to a pasture, a signal that clearly meant they were due a catch-up in the pub.

“How will I ever meet everyone? And remember their names?” Cecily laughed awkwardly. “Is there a fête? Maybe I could win them over with my biscuits.”

“Don’t worry about winning folk over. We’re a nice bunch,” he assured her as the car rolled to a halt before a pair of tall and elaborate wrought-iron gates. In them she saw flowers and leaves, intricate boughs on which birds perched and—Cecily smiled—from which slumbering bats hung by their toes. “If you want a fête, we’ll have a fête. Anything for my lass.”

Cecily stared at the gates. Their home lay beyond. “Do you ever have garden parties? Perhaps we could throw one? I’d love to meet the people in your village.”

“I love a party!” Raf climbed from the car and opened the unlocked gates before joining her again. “Shall we have a Welcome Sissy party?”

“Maybe!” Cecily grinned. Up ahead she could see the roofs of Raf’s house. Their house, she reminded herself. Their vast house, in fact. Though autumn had by now taken hold of the land, the lawns on either side of the driveway were verdant and the flowers still blossomed in every colour of the rainbow. The house could have been imposing but instead it already felt homely, as welcoming as Raf’s arms.

As Raf piloted them up the sweeping driveway and the house grew nearer through the trees, she was surprised she had thought it could have been a hotel when she’d first spied it from the hill above the village—it was a happy home, she could sense it.

“Home at last!” The car drew to a halt and Raf finally turned the engine off. Cecily’s attention was drawn to the large door, dominated by an ornate door knocker in the shape of a single monstrous, reptilian eye. “Shall we get the kettle on?”

Please, I’m gasping!” Cecily turned to Raf with a beaming smile. Then she paused. “Is there tea? And is there anything in for dinner? I can rustle up something from tins, and maybe if you have a vegetable patch too I can pick some potatoes or carrots, and perhaps—”

Cecily stopped herself. She didn’t need to be nervous about going into her own home. And she was no longer shackled to a husband who pilloried her for the tiniest housekeeping mistake.

“There’s tea and there’s probably something to eat. If there isn’t we’ll nip down the pub and see what’s cooking. There’s always at least a pie,” Raf told her. This was life now, a world where there was nipping to the pub and holding parties and not worrying about every speck of dust. Raf helped Cecily from the car but this time he handed her what looked like an ancient key. “I’ll grab the bags in a bit. Captain, would you do the honours and unlock your home?”

Cecily gladly took the key. When she closed her eyes a multitude of faces whirled by her as if they were on a fiendishly quick carousel, men and women, in bonnets, ruffs, cravats, tricorns and hoods, leaving their mark through the centuries. People who had once held that very same key and, like Cecily, called this house their home.

She went up the low stone steps to the front door, and with one last look around her—at the large windows and the abundant garden—she put the key in the lock and turned. The old, heavy door creaked open and as it swung wide Cecily blinked at the sight of her new home.

And the door knocker blinked back.

Of course it didn’t. How could it?

But it did.

“Welcome to your new nest,” Raf announced. “I hope you’ll love it here.”

“I already do, I—” Cecily glanced back at the knocker. It was unmoving, but somehow she sensed it watching her. “Where did you find that?”

“Do you like him? Great-granddad a few times over got him from John Dee in a card game.” Raf closed the door. “He keeps an eye on the place.”

“As long as he’s friendly!”

Cecily sighed happily and leaned back against the front door, not quite able to believe that they were finally here. And almost in one piece. She glanced around the hall, unsure what to look at first. The place was bursting at the seams with what she assumed was Raf’s collection of artifacts and bric-a-brac gathered on his journeys around the world and brought back to assume a space beside the ephemera his family had left in the house before him.

“You certainly have a lot of…things.

“That’s true.” He laughed. “Lots and lots of things!”

“Is the whole of your house like this?” Cecily stared at an antique taxidermied owl inside a glass dome which stared back at her. Although unlike the eye on the door, it didn’t blink.

“Not all of it.” Raf slipped his arms around Cecily’s waist. “Some of it’s cluttered!”

The parts of the wall that Cecily could see were wood-panelled, peeping out from behind a suit of armour, what looked like flags or sailcloth, decorated shields, umbrellas, netting, scattered footwear, a brass elephant, half-unpacked tea crates, a tennis racket in need of restringing, framed portraits and landscapes in oils and watercolours, spears, a dented violin, a small Egyptian casket and objects that Cecily had never seen before in her life. Just what purpose did that ornately carved and clearly ancient stone disc have, with its square-featured face at its centre, its tongue poked out as if it didn’t appreciate her staring? Just how many generations of de Chastelaines had contributed to the array of random items in the house?

Cecily planted a kiss on Raf’s cheek. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see such a mess—it’s brilliant!”

“Honest?” He widened his eyes, teasing her. “You’re not going to produce a duster and tell me to get tidying? It’s spotless though, that much I can say for sure.”

“It doesn’t feel dusty, that’s true.” Cecily peered into the knight’s visor, then stepped away. This was the sort of house where someone might peer back.

“That’s because of the lovely lady who takes care of me and might still be here but might’ve tactfully gone home even though she’s desperate to get a look at you.” He spun Cecily across the floor in an impromptu dance. “The house likes you!”

“It feels happy here!” Cecily laughed. “And I can’t wait to meet your housekeeper either! Now, let’s see…kitchen this way? There’s a lot of joy in the kitchen, I think…”

But Raf was standing very still, his nose twitching as he turned his head this way and that. For a moment Cecily’s heart leapt with trepidation, then he gave a little smile and whispered, “I smell…carbolic soap. So Mrs Hodge is here. And beer and perfume and—” He wrinkled his nose and fanned his hand in front of it. “The trawlermen’ve been gutting fish! But even I shouldn’t be able to smell that— What do you sense?”

“A crowd.” Cecily reached for Raf’s hand. “Is your house very haunted? Only…there’s so many of them!”

“Those aren’t ghosts!” Raf entwined his fingers with Cecily’s and together they approached a closed door. He kissed her cheek then threw the door wide open with a cry of delighted excitement.

Cecily tottered back in surprise because there in front of her was a room crammed with people. Complete strangers, all cheering, waving a home-painted banner on a sheet of canvas that said WELCOME HOME!!

“Erm…”

Cecily grabbed Raf’s arm and tried to hide behind him, but being a few inches taller than him, she knew she must only have made herself look absurd.

“Look at you, you daft whatsits!” Raf laughed as he looked at the assembled faces. “I’ve missed the lot of you!”

But every gaze was on Cecily. And in those gazes she saw such happiness, such joy, that it tugged at her heart. They weren’t judging her or sizing her up—this gathering was a welcome for her as much as for their returning hero.

Cecily gave the crowd a tentative wave. There were women in their housecoats, fishermen in their smocks, one or two ladies in coats with fur collars and one or two gents in pinstripes, the milkman, and men in their battered best clothes, children balanced on hips and—last but not least—a vicar.

Cecily stood self-consciously on the old, uneven flagstones in her new heeled shoes, trying her best not to look as gawky and awkward as she felt. “Hello, everyone,” she said.

“This is Miss Cecily Pincombe,” Raf told them. “My business partner. And my sweetheart, in case any of you saucy Yorkshiremen are plotting a wooing!”

Raf was met with laughter from some quarters and knowing looks from others.

“Pleased to meet you.” Cecily executed a careful curtsey and someone cooed an awww.

As she straightened up a woman stepped forwards and gave a little curtsey of her own. As plump as a pudding and even shorter than Raf, the lady wore a coat and neat hat upon which a rather fancy collection of fruit was perched.

Fresh fruit, Cecily realised.

“Mrs Hodge!” Raf threw his arm around the lady. “Sissy, this is Mrs H, the world’s finest housekeeper. Mrs H, this is Sissy, the de Chastelaine chatelaine!”

“I’ve heard so much about you, Mrs Hodge.” Cecily tried to still her nervous tremble as she held out her hand to Raf’s housekeeper. But she didn’t sense any animosity in Mrs Hodge, just warm kindness.

“Call me June,” Mrs Hodge said in rather proper tones, as though she were addressing a senior member of the royal family. “And don’t listen to anything that one tells you about me, he’s full of mischief.”

“I had noticed!” Cecily grinned at Raf. “I do hope you won’t change anything with me being here—I would hate to spoil your routine. I like to bake but I won’t get in your way, and I’m very tidy. I always clear up after myself, I promise.”

“Ha! Good luck with tidy and Rafael in the house!” But the look on her face was nothing but affectionate indulgence and she shook her head. “Well, you’re welcome here, love. You don’t worry about my routine, I’ll fit in with you. The larder’s stocked with enough to feed an army—or one Rafael. And if he’s told you he’s no good in the kitchen, he’s not lying. Happen it’s time you had a few lessons, young man, Miss Pincombe hasn’t come here to wait on you!”

“Dad said this would happen. Ladies gang up, he told me!” Raf laughed, earning a supportive nod from the men in the room. “I see it all now!”

“Well, I’m glad to see you back, lad, and with such a lovely girl on your arm,” Mrs Hodge replied, having clearly forgotten her theatrical voice in favour of a rather more natural Yorkshire one. “We’ve all been wondering about the pair of you!”

“Raf’s been looking after me,” Cecily told her. “And he had a scrape, but—all’s well. All’s very well.”

“And your father’s written this very morning,” Mrs Hodge said. “He’s in Morocco of all places, says to tell you he’ll be home after Christmas and he’ll call in to meet his lovely new daughter-in-law to be.”

Cecily heard someone clear his throat close beside her and she glanced up to see the vicar. Now he had approached and beyond his dog collar, she could see he bore a striking resemblance to Raf. He had the same bright blue eyes and dark hair, the same small stature. But unlike Raf, Michael’s hair was tidied and pomaded, and there was something of the cloisters about him, as if he rarely went outside.

“Reverend Michael!”

He nodded. “Welcome to the village, Miss Pincombe. And my dear brother, home again!”

Michael clasped Raf in a tight hug and a stream of quick Romanian filled the air. As they parted Raf took his brother’s face in his hands and kissed him once on either cheek. A look passed between them, as though Michael was checking that his brother really was safely returned to him. He alone knew the full story of what had happened on that last night at Whitmore Hall, of the vines and the devil who had lurked among them. Cecily knew that Michael alone shared the secrets of the Hall because she had taken down Raf’s letter for him, saving him the struggle with penmanship that his word blindness presented.

“Home at last,” Raf told him with a beaming smile. “And in one piece.”

“My prayers have been answered,” Michael said, his accent devoid of Raf’s Romanian twang. He sounded like some of the teachers Cecily had known at Whitmore Hall. “You look well after that long journey of yours, both of you.”

“We travelled the scenic route,” Raf admitted. It had been a scenic route that included a good many cosy inns and comfortable beds. “Sissy, this is Mike! I know you know that, but I’m doing things sort of properly.”

“Welcome to the family.” Michael gave Cecily an assessing glance. Then he whispered something to Raf.

‘What a lovely lass.’

“Lass? I’m a lass?” Cecily chuckled. She’d picked up Raf’s thoughts again, like hearing a distant voice through static on the wireless.

Michael glanced at Raf, surprised and somewhat flustered. “Erm… That is to say, a lovely lady…”

My lass. With…serious hearing skills. You don’t even have to speak and she hears it.” Raf put his arm around Cecily’s waist, but she knew there was nothing but love in his tease. Her late husband had believed her to be his possession. To Rafael de Chastelaine, the dhampir with Transylvanian and Yorkshire blood in his veins, she was an equal. “Where’s Mim?”

“Mim? She’s elbow-deep in her Women’s Institute jam-making,” Michael said. He clasped his hands together, a pious gesture which Cecily supposed came second nature to him, given his calling. “She sends her best, and she’ll be over to say hello later. And bring some jam, too. She makes excellent jam, Miss Pincombe.”

“Please call me Cecily.”

Michael nodded. “Then I will—Cecily.”

“Give her our best.” Raf grinned and Cecily realised that his brother didn’t have the teeth. Only normal teeth. “I’m sure you’ll be nipping up to sample her jam!”

“I shall indeed, but—now look, will I be reading the banns on Sunday? Mim has been talking about doing your wedding flowers, but you haven’t mentioned a date…” Michael’s hands were still clasped, his voice still gentle, but his knuckles had whitened. He raised an expectant eyebrow and glanced back and forth between Cecily and Raf.

“Just like a vicar!” laughed a tall, wiry man with a luxuriant black beard as he slapped his hand on the reverend’s shoulder. He looked like a fisherman, Cecily decided, in his cap and sweater. “Let’s have a party first and talk weddings later!”

A cheer went up around the kitchen and Raf told his brother, “Don’t you fret, vicar, we’ll be good!”

As drinks were poured and cake sliced, Cecily smiled and said hello and tried to remember everyone’s names, but she heard Michael’s voice through the hubbub as he said to Raf, “And you’ll come to the church as soon as you can? I don’t mean for a wedding. It’s just that there’s something I need you to see.”

“Is it an important something?” Raf took a sip from his bottle of dark brown ale. “A tomorrow something or a today something?”

Michael leaned closer to Raf and whispered, rather loudly, “Today. I had no wish to worry you during your convalescence, but…there’s something rather bad, I fear, in my church, and that’ll never do.”

Raf glanced back at Cecily and smiled, but she knew him well enough to know that he would go. And she would love him all the more for it. “Then I’ll come over later. What time will you be there?”

Michael took his watch from his waistcoat pocket and tapped the face. “Six o’clock.”

“Whatever it is, we’ll sort it,” Raf promised him. He patted Michael’s arm. “Don’t worry.”

Michael spoke to him in Romanian again, a farewell, Cecily supposed. He waved to her as he hurried out of the kitchen and was gone. Before Cecily could say anything to Raf, she had a glass in one hand and a plate of cake in the other and Mrs Hodge was introducing her to everyone. Raf was never far away from her in the kitchen, just as he had stayed close as they journeyed from the south-west to the far-flung North Yorkshire coast. Not watching and policing, but simply being near. They had become bound to each other in the most wonderful way, lovers, in love, dipping into shops and restaurants, hotels and guest houses on their adventure, not so much learning to be a couple as discovering that it was simply an instinct.

And sometimes, when Cecily was least expecting it, a little bat would swoop down and sit on her shoulder.

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About the Authors

Eleanor Harkstead

Eleanor Harkstead likes to dash about in nineteenth-century costume, in bonnet or cravat as the mood takes her. She can occasionally be found wandering old graveyards. Eleanor is very fond of chocolate, wine, tweed waistcoats and nice pens. Her large collection of vintage hats would rival Hedda Hopper’s.

Originally from the south-east of England, Eleanor now lives somewhere in the Midlands with a large ginger cat who resembles a Viking.

You can follow Eleanor on Facebook and Twitter

Catherine Curzon

Catherine Curzon is a royal historian who writes on all matters of 18th century. Her work has been featured on many platforms and Catherine has also spoken at various venues including the Royal Pavilion, Brighton, and Dr Johnson’s House.

Catherine holds a Master’s degree in Film and when not dodging the furies of the guillotine, writes fiction set deep in the underbelly of Georgian London.

She lives in Yorkshire atop a ludicrously steep hill.

You can follow Catherine on Facebook and Twitter and take a look at her Website.

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Release Blitz: Loving You by Andaleeb Wajid #contemporaryromance @BookReviewTours @andaleebwajid

Hamza Ali is ready to get married, fall in love and live happily ever after. The only problem is, he’s about to marry one woman but falls in love with another… So how will he find his happily ever after?


After watching his brother’s disastrous love marriage fall to pieces, Hamza decides that the only marriage for him is an arranged one. In Mahrukh, his family finds him the perfect bride. But while Mahrukh may be the perfect bride, it’s her divorced aunt Noorain who is the perfect woman for him.
Noorain Alam has never loved or been loved. Until the day her niece gets engaged to a man who is completely out of her reach and yet, he’s everything she never knew she wanted.
Blindsided by the strength of emotion they feel for each other, Noorain and Hamza find themselves in a battle for their happiness. But will love win? Or will family and duty stand in its way?

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Read an Excerpt from Loving You

The last thing Hamza Ali wanted, was to be late. But given the traffic and his own state of mind, he knew that it was a foregone conclusion. He just had to grit his teeth and bear it, even as he tamped down on the anxiety spiralling inside.

His phone rang and he answered it on Bluetooth, knowing that Ammi was frantic with worry.

‘I know, I know…’ he said in a placating manner.

‘They’re already here!’ Ammi said in a loud whisper.

‘I’m on my way, Ammi. I’ll be there in another fifteen minutes,’ he said.

‘Fifteen minutes?’ Ammi yelped. ‘But…’

‘I’m driving. I’ll reach sooner if I’m not talking to you.’ Saying so, he disconnected the call and focused on reaching home.

Today, of all days he had a presentation that ran late. He’d tried to explain to his boss that he needed to be home early but of course that hadn’t been possible. Kannan didn’t like to listen to excuses or anything personal when work was involved and Hamza knew better than to tell him the real reason he needed to be home early today.

People were coming to see him.

Yes. A girl’s family actually. He had told Ammi that he was ready for marriage and it would be a good idea if she started looking for potential brides for him. Ammi had been only too pleased to comply.

His twin brother Hamdaan thought he was being an unnecessary martyr by opting for an arranged marriage.

‘What would you know?’ Hamza snapped at him, annoyed. Hamdaan had a love marriage and then, when that fell through, he had an arranged marriage where he fell deeply in love with his wife Ghazal.

This just convinced him that not everyone was cut out for a grand love affair and anyway, this was what his parents wanted. He wanted to give them that happiness. At the cost of your own, Hamdaan asked.

‘What guarantee is there that a love marriage will be better?’ Hamza asked him. Hamdaan nodded.

‘I know, but…’

‘And you did have an arranged marriage with Ghazal and you two seem to be just fine,’ he reminded him.

‘Well, that’s because I got incredibly lucky,’ Hamdaan commented, a smile on his face as he thought of his wife probably.

Hamza glanced at his face in the rear-view mirror at a traffic signal and sighed. There wasn’t going to be any time to even wash his face, let alone shower, if the girl’s family had already reached home. Ammi had been slightly put out when she heard that they wanted to vet him first, and if he was a good enough candidate, she and Ghazal Bhabhi could go and see the girl and take things forward.

‘That’s how everyone does it these days,’ the broker aunty informed Ammi. The broker aunty who brought the rishta was a fascinating specimen, with her smartphone full of biodatas and photos of potential brides and bridegrooms. Hamza had looked at her paraphernalia, eyes wide that day when she wanted to ‘see’ him before finding the right rishta.

‘First they see the boy and if he’s good, then you can see the girl. That way, the girl is not unnecessarily exposed, na?’ she asked, moving the paan she’d been chewing, around inside her mouth.

‘Fine, Arifa Apa. Whatever you say,’ Ammi said.

Now, he felt the slightest bit of apprehension inside when he wondered about this stranger who could possibly become a part of his life soon. But he had wanted this, right? In fact, he had gone on to convince Hamdaan to get married again so that it would clear the way for him to get married.

His phone rang again.

‘Ammi,’ he groaned out aloud but then saw that it wasn’t his mother but it was Ghazal.

‘Yes, Bhabhi,’ he answered as the car moved forward in the traffic finally. It felt odd, calling her Bhabhi since she was so much younger than him but it added to the decorum and formality in their relationship, which was something he liked.

‘How far away from home are you?’ she asked softly.

‘Around ten minutes, tops,’ he said.

‘Okay, so don’t park in front of the house. Park behind, and I’ll be waiting near the kitchen door. You can hop inside from there and freshen up in your room, Hamza Bhai,’ she said.

‘Oh. Oh thank god!’ he muttered, feeling slightly better.

‘Don’t thank me yet. Ammi is having kittens and puppies and she won’t rest easy until you’re here,’ Ghazal said.

‘You hold her off, Bhabhi!’ he said as he stepped down on the accelerator to reach home as soon as he could.

Twenty minutes later, he emerged from his room, his face still shiny with water droplets. He took the towel from Ghazal gratefully and scrubbed his face and she winced.

‘It’s your face. Not a dirty vessel and Scotch Brite,’ she admonished him as she took the towel from his hands.

Ammi didn’t know that he was back home yet and she looked at him surprised when she came out from the kitchen, just as he was tucking his shirt inside properly. He had barely had a chance to look at himself in the mirror and he was worried about making the wrong sort of impression but Ghazal assured him that he looked fine.

‘When did you…where were…’ she trailed off.

‘Ask Bhabhi,’ he said with a smile as he kissed his mother soundly on her cheek. She did some nazar utarofy thing for him and smiled at Ghazal, even as she put her hand on her chest.

‘Go now,’ she said. Nodding, he walked into the living room where Hamdaan and Abba were speaking to the men who had come to see him.

‘Sorry, I’m a bit late,’ Hamza said as he walked up and shook hands with the three men who stood up when they saw him.

The men looked from Hamdaan to him and one of them smiled. ‘Amazing how much you two look alike,’ he said.

Hamza nodded and then, his father indicated that he should sit down on the sofa. The men all sat down and they started talking.

The mad pounding in his chest finally eased down enough and he almost relaxed until he remembered why he was here.

The middle-aged man in the centre, wearing the white shirt with black stripes, left untucked was apparently the bride’s father. He wore a namaz topi on his head and he had a beard. Hamza smiled at him as he spoke, but he was instantly curious about the girl’s family and what sort of person she was.

He also didn’t know her name yet. A droplet of sweat trickled down his back in a straight line when he realised the enormity of what he was getting into. He didn’t even know the name of the girl he was willing to marry, let alone what she looked like. And somehow, he felt that if he asked her name, it would put him and his family on the back foot. He should have asked Ghazal, he realised.

‘Have some tea,’ one of the men offered to him and he nodded. He leaned forward and picked up a tea cup and his gaze met his brother’s, who lifted an eyebrow sardonically.

The two of them were connected intrinsically, as they were twins and there were times when they could have a complete non-verbal exchange between them and no one would be the wiser.

You asked for this.

Hamza nodded slightly and he looked up at his brother defiantly. Yeah. So what?

Just wondering if you know what you’re getting into.

Shut up.

Hamdaan hid his smile as he sipped his tea and mentally, Hamza flipped him off but responded to the questions being asked of him.

When the ordeal was finally over, the three men got up and shook hands with him once more. They shook hands with Hamdaan and the bride’s father even hugged Abba as they left.

‘Satisfied?’ Hamdaan turned to him as soon as the men departed.

‘Yes,’ Hamza said, rolling his eyes. Abba returned just then before the two of them could get into an argument.

‘They’ve asked us to come and see the girl tomorrow,’ Abba announced, a smile on his face. ‘Your Ammi and Ghazal will be going.’

Hamza’s heart pounded again. It was finally happening.

‘What’s her name?’ he asked and Hamdaan gave a short laugh.

‘Not one person back in college would have believed you to be capable of this,’ he said.

‘Of what? And you wouldn’t know since you didn’t study with me,’ Hamza retorted.

‘Her name is Mahrukh,’ Ghazal said softly as she came into the living room. Hamdaan beamed at her as she went and sat down beside him. One of the girls who worked in the house followed her and she collected the tea cups and deposited them on the tray.

‘Like Shahrukh?’ Hamza asked sceptically.

Ammi chuckled. ‘No. Mahrukh is a girl’s name. It means someone who looks like the moon.’

‘It’s a beautiful name,’ Ghazal assured him.

And what of the girl, he wondered. Was she beautiful too?

About the Author:

Andaleeb Wajid is the author of 27 published novels and she writes across different genres such as romance, YA and horror. Her horror novel It Waits was shortlisted at Mami Word to Screen 2017 and her Young Adult series, The Tamanna Trilogy has been optioned for screen by a reputed production house. Andaleeb’s novel When She Went Away was shortlisted for The Hindu Young World Prize in 2017. Andaleeb is a hybrid author who has self-published more than 10 novels in the past two years.

Andaleeb on the Web:
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New Release: Kitty Kitty (Souls Chapel Revenants MC) by Lani Lynn Vale #bookreview #contemporaryromance

Kitty Kitty

Souls Chapel Revenants MC Book 5

Lani Lynn Vale

Release Date: June 29, 2021

About the Book

This is the story of a man falling in love with a woman.

A man that was supposed to be a role model, and a woman that was just barely twenty-one.

A man who should’ve known better, and a woman that didn’t know that she was destroying his career word by word, innocent touch by innocent touch, smile by smile, until it had already imploded.

The world collapses around Absinthe ‘Sin’ Solomon, and the only thing he can do is try not to take her down with him.

The moment the inevitable happens, and the gavel bangs signaling that he will spend the next nine years in prison for attempted murder, Sin tries to let go. But Blaise Mackenzie has never, not ever, been one to give up without a fight.

Her military career might be over, but her career as a prison guard is just about to get started.

And her favorite prisoner? A pissed-off older man, a drill sergeant dishonorably discharged from the Army that tells himself daily that the new ‘Kitty Kitty’ female prison guard is not for him.

After following him around for years, watching over him from afar in any way she can, Sin is released early. And the first person that he’s going to see? A stubborn little blonde-headed female that should’ve known better than to trust a man like him.

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My Review – 5 stars!

Drama. Action. Mystery. Romance. Kitty Kitty has all that and more. Want a thrilling read that will steam your glasses? You’ve found it!

There’s chemistry and then there’s melt-my-ereader-heat. Blaise and Sin have both in spades. Their journey isn’t easy, but nothing worth having ever is. They’re made for one another and nothing, including prison, will stand in their way.

This book is absolutely amazing! There’s a bit of darkness but it ends with a happily-ever-after, and left me wanting more. Can’t wait to read the next book in the series.

*Disclaimer: I received and ARC in exchange for an honest review.

About Lani Lynn Vale

Lani Lynn Vale is a Wall Street Journal & USA Today Bestselling Author of over thirty titles. She is married with three children, two dogs, two cats, a donkey, and a couple (a couple also meaning over twenty) chickens.

When she’s not writing, you can find her curled up in her favorite chair reading.

Lani is married with three children and lives in the Great State of Texas.

Website: http://www.lanilynnvale.com/

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