The Coven by Stephanie Burke #LGBTQ #paranormalromance @FlashyCat @GoIndiMarketing

Title: The Coven

Series: Gargoyles’ Song #1

Author: Stephanie Burke

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: May 7, 2021

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 302 pages

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Mystery, Science Fiction, paranormal romance, pansexual & multisexual, multiple partners, murder mystery, alien encounters, action adventure

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Synopsis

Cyprus Reid is an enigma who courts the spotlight while carefully maintaining her mystique, intriguing legions of fans with her stylistic lyrics and a voice that brings many to tears. Even more intriguing than her all-male entourage is the fact that people are dying to get to her… literally.

To ex-Navy SEAL-turned-government intelligence operative Jason Giles, Cyprus is either a victim of an elaborate conspiracy, or the most fiendish killer since Jack the Ripper. Sure, the victims had shady pasts and shared a connection to a strange incident at Mount McKinley some fifty years ago, but that doesn’t mean they deserved to die, seemingly drained of life while engaged in acts of wanton carnality.

Jason is sent to discover the truth, but what he finds is more seductive, more intriguing, more enticing than a mere boy in a dress. What Jason finds is the existence of The Coven. And once they discover you, there is no going back.

Excerpt

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Stephanie Burke

“Ms. Reid? Over here!”

“Ms. Reid, you are looking perfect tonight. Look this way, please!”

“Ms. Reid! You are an inspiration! I love you!”

“Ms. Reid! Ms. Reid! You are a goddess!”

“You are a dirty tramp, and you seduce men into worshiping you, you nasty slut!”

“You stole my husband, you bitch!”

“I hope you rot in hell!”

And Cyprus, as usual, ignored it all.

The flashing bulbs temporarily blinded her, but she ignored the minor inconvenience as well, as she moved with her customary style and grace down the wrinkled red carpet that had been rolled out for her visit.

She turned and flashed one last mysterious smile at the gathered crowd, both the hateful and the adoring fans, and silently made her way into the safety of the hotel.

“Ms. Reid?” She looked up at the oh-so-proper, British-accented voice, realizing absently that it was the hotel manager.

She paused, giving the short, balding man her full attention, noting how he flushed a little at her scrutiny.

The doors behind them closed with a <em>whoosh</em>, muting the noise and shouts of the crowd, though bulbs continued to flash as paparazzi desperately tried to get that winning shot of one of the world’s most beautiful and renowned vocalists.

“Um.” He cleared his throat, tugging at his collar as he shifted from foot to foot, more like an adolescent than a grown man. “Security has been tightened on your floor as you requested. Also, you are the only occupant of the twenty-seventh floor, though we can easily accommodate you and your entourage in the penthouse suite.”

“Thank you and that will be all,” a tall, long-haired man spoke, towering over both the manager and Cyprus. “Though we appreciate the hospitality you and your staff have provided thus far, Ms. Reid does not prefer the penthouse or any of the presidential suites. The twenty-seventh floor is perfect for our needs.”

The manager froze, staring at the man as if suddenly noticing his presence and that the sheer aura surrounding Cyprus had rendered the world blind to anyone else around her.

But then, that was part of her mystery.

Cyprus Reid never traveled with fewer than five men, five painfully handsome, dominating men.

How anyone could ever not notice them was a complete mystery, but usually they managed the neat theatrical trick of fading into the background. Once they decided to be seen, however, a blind man couldn’t miss them.

Each stood over six feet tall — five perfectly formed men, each unique and differently beautiful in his own way, who made it a point to surround and protect Ms. Reid from any and all activities that could be considered dangerous, especially keeping any unsavory fanatics at bay.

The one who spoke to him — Unus, he had discovered — the one with long, dark hair, appeared to be the spokesman for the rest of the group. If there was anything to be settled, this one was the one to do it.

He stood before the manager, his perfectly cut Savile Row suit doing nothing to hide the raw masculinity and barely leashed savagery that seemed to glow from his eyes.

The other four, all mystery men of different ethnic backgrounds and styles, moved in closer, alert to any trouble that might develop.

“V-v-very g-good, s-sir,” the manager stuttered, growing nervous now that all that male power was directed toward him. He reached into his pocket, then took a quick step back as all the men moved forward, hiding Cyprus behind a wall of muscle.

“It’s just the electronic key card,” he quickly explained, sweating under his collar as if suddenly fearing for his very life. “Just the key. No one else besides our head of security has a copy.”

“Your head of security?” the man asked, leaning forward, getting closer so that the manager could make out small, very fine tribal tattooing along his hairline, down in front of his ears, and down into the collar of his shirt.

“Jason Giles,” the manager explained. “Very good, comes highly recommended. He is securing the twenty-seventh floor as we speak. Ms. Reid’s safety is our chief concern.”

A slim, dusky hand reached between the two of them, halting any movement the tall man might have made and pulling him back into line.

“Very good.”

He conceded to the smaller female whose hand now rested on his arm, nodding once. “Ms. Reid is exhausted…”

“Oh, excuse me!” The manager snapped back into host mode and hastily directed the small party to the private elevators. “These only stop at executive floors, like the twenty-seventh,” he explained, while placing the card against a small scanner.

The doors immediately opened, and he quickly ushered them inside. The men immediately surrounded Cyprus protectively. Within seconds, they were whisked to the proper floor, and all exited into the plushly carpeted, brightly lit hall.

“As requested, Ms. Reid’s room is in the center. The rooms on either side of her are prepared for occupancy and can be accessed only though the interior doors that are in Ms. Reid’s main suite. All others are closed off and locked, both electronically and by physical means. This floor is as safe as Fort Knox.”

That said, he led them to a door where another man, one with nearly white-blond hair, stood at attention.

Instantly, the men were once again on high alert, their bodies tensing as they formed a barrier between Cyprus and the unknown man.

“This is Jason Giles,” the manager introduced. “He is head of security, hired exclusively for your safety during this visit.”

“An honor.” Jason spoke softly, his eyes going to the odd collection of men who surrounded the artist.

“We thank you.” The long-haired spokesman for the group eyed the strange male carefully. “But your services, though appreciated, are not needed.”

There was steel in that voice only a dead man could miss. The undercurrents flowed strongly and were rife with testosterone.

“Be that as it may,” Jason replied, “I remain your first line of defense. If something gets out of hand, I will do my best to quell it before it even makes it this far. And if you have any issues, no matter how minor, be sure to let me know. Any extra security is a must. We all have to protect the beauteous Ms. Reid,” he added, with barely veiled sarcasm.

“If you think –” the now disgruntled leader of apparent party-toy men began, but a slim hand pressing against his arm stopped him again.

Huffing and visibly fighting to control himself, the man nodded and stepped aside.

And Jason got his first glimpse of the real-life Cyprus Reid.

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Changeling Press LLC | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Meet the Author

Stephanie is a USA Today Best Selling, multi published, multi award-winning author, Master Costumer, handicapped, wife and mother of two.

From sex-shifting, shape-shifting dragons to undersea worlds, sexually confused elemental Fey and homo-erotic mysteries, all the way to pastel-challenged urban sprites, Stephanie has done it all, and hopes to do more.

Stephanie is an orator on her favorite subjects of writing and world-building, a sometime teacher when you feed her enough tea and donuts, an anime nut, a costumer, and a frequent guest of various sci-fi and writing cons where she can be found leading panel discussions or researching varied legends and theories to improve her writing skills.

Stephanie is known for her love of the outrageous, strong female characters, believable worlds, male characters filled with depth, and multi-cultural stories that make the reader sit up and take notice.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Instagram | Bookbub

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Beneath the Lies by Sapna Bhog #mysteryromance #multicultural @sapnawrites @BookReviewTours

A saga of Forgotten Love and Second Chances

How would you feel when the man you have known and loved for the last five years is not who he said he was? That everything he ever told you was all a lie.

An accident changed our lives forever and now I have to bring him back to us because he doesn’t remember our life, our family or us. One minute, I was just a regular girl from India married to a man she loved, and the next, my life has changed completely because I’m married to an English Duke, who doesn’t remember me.

My name is Aaliya Singh Talbot and I will do whatever it takes to bring my husband back from the darkness and into the light.

I will make him remember no matter what I have to do!

I will make him remember everything – beneath all the lies!

Book Links:
Goodreads * Amazon.in * Amazon.com * Other Platforms

Read an Excerpt from Beneath the Lies

Aaliya

Mumbai

Someone is screaming!
In a heartbeat, I know it’s me. I jerk awake and sit upright on my bed, my heart roaring against my ribcage. My hand trembles as I push my long hair back from my damp forehead. He can’t be dead; this was just a dream! I chant that thought while taking huge calming breaths. This is the third time this week I’ve woken up like this, feeling like he’s gone. The fact that I’ve lost all touch with him screams inside me that something is drastically wrong else he’d never be silent for this long; his phone would never be switched off like it has been this last week. I shut my eyes, anxiety weighing me down. How long should I convince myself there is a reason for his silence?
I grab the photo frame from my bedside table. It is a picture of Damien and I from our honeymoon. His arm is around me and both of us are smiling into the camera, the waves of the Indian Ocean crashing behind us.
I run a finger along his face, tracing that bearded jaw, visualizing him in my mind’s eye. Those striking grey-green eyes that sparkle whenever they rest on me, that heart-stopping smile that almost always makes me melt. I miss him! I miss being tucked under his chin when he hugs me. I miss his scent and I miss how his strong arms and tall frame wrap around me when we sleep, making me feel protected and cherished. This is the first time we’ve been separated for so long and perhaps that’s what is making me anxious. I shake my head. No, something is wrong. I can sense it.
God! Please let him be safe, I pray.
Love is a strange yet powerful emotion that hit me when I least expected it and swept me off my feet without me even knowing it. And now, five years later, it is the faith I have in that love that makes me believe he would never leave me without contact—unless he was in trouble.
Fear for him slithers like a poisonous snake across my veins but I have to tamper it down because I have one more reason to remain sane, to stay anchored to the belief that Damien will be fine, no matter what. I breathe in deep, letting the familiar hum of the air conditioner soothe my nerves before I slide off the bed. My feet hit the cold marble floor and I head to the other bedroom where I tip toe inside.
My darling little boy—an angel with his mouth open and a tiny hand clutching his rather overlong hair—is sleeping in his cot. A small smile skates across my lips and my heart warms as I stare at him for a moment before lifting him carefully and putting him on my shoulder. He wriggles for a moment but soon relaxes in my arms, his nose digging into the side of my neck. I inhale his soft, sweet fragrance, and shut my eyes for a few seconds. Rian is ten months old and the love of our lives. Reluctant to let go of him, I hold him for a second longer before I gently tuck him back in his cot and caress his beloved face, so similar to his father.
My cell phone rings and I run to my room, glancing at the clock that shows that it’s three in the morning. I pray fervently that it’s finally him calling. Please God, let that be my husband!
I lift the cell, scanning the caller id and my shoulders slump.
“Gabriel!” I breathe into the phone. “Where is Damien? It’s been a week since I heard from him. One whole week with his phone switched off and you giving me a different excuse each time I call. I’m scared, Gabe. You can’t even begin to imagine the thoughts running through my mind.”
His silence only fuels my fear.
“Gabe, please,” I plead. “Where is he?”
“Aaliya, he…he’s been in a car accident!”
“No! God, no!” I shudder. “Is he-”
I swallow against the pain in my throat and try again, because I need to know. “Is he fine? Please tell me he’s alive!”
“Aaliya, he’s fine. He was in a coma for a week. He’s just woken up now.”
“One week!” I gasp out. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Tears burn my eyes, threatening to spill over. “His trip to London was planned for two days not ten, Gabe. I’ve lived in terror this last week ever since I lost contact with him. You knew how worried I was and yet you fed me with one excuse after the other. How could you keep his accident from me? I deserved to know, Gabe.”
“Aaliya…”
“Don’t you dare try and placate me!” I yell, unable to hold it back any longer. “You should’ve called me the minute he was admitted to the hospital.”
“Aaliya, I’m sorry. I truly am!” His voice comes out broken. “This is hard for me too. I didn’t tell you because he told me to look after you and Rian first if anything happened to him. I never imagined that he’d meet with an accident so soon after. You may not understand this now, Aaliya, but I did this to protect you both.”
 “Protect us from what?”
Gabe sighs. “How much do you know of the English aristocracy?”
My fist squeezes tighter around my phone. “I don’t care about the damn English aristocracy. Tell me about Damien. How is he?”
“Like I said, he’s fine now. He woke up a few hours ago. He’s injured his head, but he will be fine. There’s a lot to tell you, Aaliya. Damien hasn’t told you entirely who he was…is.”
“What do you mean, Gabe? Don’t talk to me in riddles. Besides, I know who he was…” I shake my head. “…he is. I know about his life in England. So, stop trying to tell me something else.”
I’ve known Gabriel Westcott for as long as I’ve known Damien, which is five years now. He is Damien’s best friend, his business partner and was his best man at our wedding. Since Damien was an orphan, Gabe was also the only person to attend from Damien’s side. This last week he’s given me one excuse after the other regarding the silence from Damien and now he’s feeding me some nonsense about my husband that I refuse to believe.
“Damn it, Aaliya. You need to listen to me!” Gabe shouts. “Damien is the second son of the Duke of Kittridge. He returned here to England ten days ago not on a business trip, like he told you, but because his father and brother died in a car crash. He came for their funeral and because of his new responsibility. Damien is now the Duke of Kittridge.”
“No!” I whisper, dropping down on the bed. “That can’t be true. He would have told me. No! I don’t believe you.”
“Google it. Now! It’s K I T T R I D G E.”
He spells the word as I grab my laptop and open Google and type the letters. My eyes widen in shock. Oh my God! The cords in my neck strain as I stare at the images on the screen. There are dozens of pictures of Damien. He’s at a funeral. He’s with an older woman. Another picture shows him with his arm around a younger blonde woman, comforting her. Who are these women? What in the hell is going on? I read tweets on him.
“The new Duke of Kittridge”
“Missing son returns after five years”
“The Devil Lord is now the Devil Duke”
The Internet has the whole history of Damien; it knows things I’ve never known. My Damien is not Damien Alexander, as I’ve always known him; he is Damien Alexander Talbot, now the Duke of Kittridge.
“How…how is this possible?” My voice trembles. “How could I have not known?”
“I will explain it all to you, Aaliya. But first, you need to come to London as soon as you can. Can you organize to leave Rian with someone for a few days?”
“I’ll bring him with me. Damien will want to see him.”
“Aaliya,” Gabe lowers his tone and my heartbeat accelerates yet again, “he doesn’t remember you. He has no memory of the last five years of his life, which includes Rian and you.”
Did he just say that? No! It can’t be true. But I know to the core of my being that it is true. This is why my instincts have been roaring at me since the last few days. My stomach plummets, the hollowness spreading through every inch of my body. A whimper escapes my mouth and I press a hand on my lips to stop myself from screaming.
About the Author:
Sapna Bhog is an author from India who writes contemporary and historical romance novels. As a self-proclaimed die-hard romantic, her books are filled with swoon-worthy heroes and feisty heroines who clash all the time, but do get their happy ever after. Sapna has always surrounded herself with books and when she is not writing she is reading. Originally from Dubai, she now lives in Western India with her husband, kids and a Siberian Husky. Sapna gave up a successful IT career and took a foray into writing and has never looked back since. Her favourite pastimes are reading, writing, traveling and shopping—not necessarily in that order. She loves to hear from readers.

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Book Blitz: Text Wars by Whitney Dineen & Melanie Summers #RomCom @whitneydineen @mjsummersbooks

Text Wars: May the Text be With You …
Whitney Dineen & Melanie Summers
Publication date: May 4th 2021
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

May the text be with you…

Seraphina Lopez is not your typical airy-fairy astrology fanatic. First and foremost, she’s a businesswoman who happens to have a fascination with the stars. Her lifestyle app, “Live for Your Star Sign” is blowing up, and when she’s asked to be a guest on New York’s most watched Morning Show, she knows the exposure will launch her app into the stratosphere.

Astrophysicist Ben Williams just landed his dream job at NASA’s Goddard Institute, Not only is he heading a multi-disciplinary team in search of habitable exo-planets, he’s also been tapped to be the spokesman for the project. While he’d much rather be crunching the numbers to pinpoint the location of Earth II, he also has to sell the concept to the American public.

When Seraphina and Ben meet on the set of the Morning Show, sparks fly! Sera is there to show viewers how to dress for their star sign. Ben is there in the name of science. Their explosive chemistry sets records for the network’s viewing audience. As such they’re asked to host a regular segment–together.

Ben and Sera hate each other so much, they resort to texting instead of talking when they’re off air (and sometimes on). Yet somewhere in the haze of dislike, they start to realize they have more in common than they thought possible. Is love written in the stars or will it burn up on impact?

Find out in the Text Wars, the third installment of the deliciously funny and romantic Accidentally in Love Series.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

Ben

Once I’m dragged off into the Green Room with all the gorgeous women, I sneak a peek at myself in one of the full-length mirrors propped against the wall. Who am I? And where is astrophysicist Ben Williams under all that hair gel and bronzer? This is going to be the single most humiliating experience of my life. Not only am I dressed like a banana for his first day of school, my manhood is on display like it’s about to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. How is anyone going to take me seriously?

They won’t. That’s how.

Not to mention, everyone I know, including my co-workers, will be watching. NOOOO!!! I have to stop this. Panic starts to build inside of me until my chest cavity feels like it’s about to explode.

The bossy woman who made me take my underwear off loudly declares, “You all look great! This is going to be an amazing show!”

I have no idea what she’s talking about, but I don’t have time to ask because someone else comes in and says, “You’re on next. Follow me.”

I tug at these ridiculous pants in hopes they’ll magically grow three sizes and turn black. Or a nice brown, even. That would be good too. Although I don’t know if brown would go with this awful green vest.

Oh, for pity’s sake, Ben, it doesn’t matter! Your pants aren’t going to change color so forget it. Unless …what if I change into normal pants? Yes, that’s the answer. As we march down the hall and pass my dressing room, I decide I’m going to put on my own clothes no matter what anyone says. As I open the door to dressing room three, I hear Serafina demand, “Where are you going?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, she takes my hand and leads me to the third spot in line. “There. You’re right behind our Taurus.”

Grinning broadly, she says, “Okay, everyone, you look fabulous. Just get out there and strut your fine selves.”

Strut my fine self? What in the world is she talking about?

“Listen, I-I think there’s been a mistake,” I call out to her.

“I know, the pants aren’t exactly the right fit, but you can really get away with it, trust me.” She boldly winks which causes me even more distress.

“No, not that …”

That Justin intern rushes over and says, “Ms. Lopez, you’re on!”

I try to get his attention, but he disappears, leaving me with no one to ask for help. I wait for what feels like forever, but I’m sure is only a couple of minutes, before Justin comes back and starts to lead us backstage. “When I point to you, walk onto the stage, turn left at the X, strut down the catwalk toward the studio audience. Pause for a count of two, then spin back around and go out the other way.”

He points to the woman in front of me. As she goes, I watch her carefully, trying to memorize what she’s doing. Okay, that doesn’t look so hard. It’s just walking, right? I can walk. Do they introduce all of their guests like this? My confusion equals my horror. I should have watched an episode of this show, so I knew what I was getting into.

When the woman turns back my way, she’s not smiling. Are we not supposed to smile? Do we pout? Yes, pouting seems right. How do you pout?

Turning to the woman behind me, I say, “Does this look right?” then I push my lips out and try to look like I’m really angry about something. Which is actually true because I’m going to lose it on Dev when I see him.

She wrinkles up her nose and answers, “You look like you’re trying to poop.”

Well, that was rude. I’m trying to learn. I give her a glare and she snaps her fingers. “Perfect! Now you’ve got some serious smolder going on.”

“Gemini Guy! Gemini Guy!” Justin whisper-yells.

I spin around, realizing he means me. He points to the stage wearing a completely disgusted look. As I walk by, I hear him say something about models with rocks for brains into his headset. Models? I’m not a model.

My heart is thumping like a rabbit surrounded by a pack of bears as I walk, trying to keep time with the music which is some airy-fairy crap that doesn’t even have a beat. That bossy Serafina person is sitting on a chair next to the show’s hosts talking … about me … it turns out.

“Geminis absolutely love to be the center of attention, almost to a fault. They’re known to be intelligent, passionate, fun, but also sometimes unreliable and are even called flighty.”

I keep walking toward center stage while I glare at her, causing me to miss the big X on the floor.

“As you can see, our model truly is a flighty Gemini. He just missed his mark.”

I hate this woman. I hate her with every cell of my being.

Hal lets out a laugh. “Other way, buddy!”

“Wow, those are some tight pants!” Lacey inserts. “I can see his center of attention!”

The audience laughs as I scramble to find the damn X. It’s actually quite large and is in bright green tape, so it’s pretty hard to miss. I stalk down the catwalk feeling like a piece of poorly-dressed meat. The audience—mainly older women—start to hoot and whistle and, I swear to God, one woman is waving a five-dollar bill at me.

How the hell did I end up here? I have my PhD. I work for NASA.

I head back toward the hosts while that awful Serafina woman talks about astrology. I’m so busy trying to make sure I land on the X this time I almost don’t hear Hal say, “Geminis really must be flighty because our other guest, Dr. Ben Williams, didn’t bother to show up for Star Day. I understand he’s a Gemini as well.”

I stop in my tracks and stare at him, sweat trickling down my back.

Hal looks at me while making a scooting gesture with his hands. “You can go now.”

Astrology girl gives me an urgent head nod toward the exit. Now is my only chance to fix what has gone terribly, terribly wrong. “I’m Ben Williams.”

All three of them stare at me like I’ve just said I’m from planet Zorbits. Lacey gives me a sympathetic look, as though she feels so bad for the male model who’s so dumb he doesn’t know his own name. “Um, no. Ben Williams is a rocket scientist. You’re a model.” She says this slowly like it’s the only way I’ll be able to understand her.

I wait while the audience has a good laugh at my expense while ignoring Justin and some other woman with a headset who are frantically waving at me. “I’m not a rocket scientist.”

Giving me a condescending look, Hal says, “We know you’re not, buddy. But you’re still special, okay? Now, off you go!”

The fashion show music stops, and the audience becomes so still you’d think they were waiting for me to perform a magic show. Off to the side, I see two security guards at the ready. I swallow hard, then keep going. “There’s no such thing as a rocket scientist,” I say. “What you’re thinking of is actually called an aeronautical engineer or an astronautical engineer. Rocket scientist is a dumbed down word for the job.”

“Wow,” Lacey says, blinking at me. “You know a lot about rocket science.”

I shut my eyes at her inane statement, then open them and say, “That’s because I’m an astrophysicist.”

The astrology “expert” (and I’m using that term lightly) seems to be the first one of the three geniuses to figure out who I am. “Wait, if you’re Dr. Williams, why are you masquerading as a male model?”

Author Bio:

Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries — not always in that order.

Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to.

She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.

Gold Medal winner at the International Readers’ Favorite Awards, 2017.

Silver medal winner at the International Readers’ Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.

Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.

Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.

Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017

Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017

Author links
Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

Melanie Summers also writes steamy romance as MJ Summers.

Melanie made a name for herself with her debut novel, Break in Two, a contemporary romance that cracked the Top 10 Paid on Amazon in both the UK and Canada, and the top 50 Paid in the USA. Her highly acclaimed Full Hearts Series was picked up by both Piatkus Entice (a division of Hachette UK) and HarperCollins Canada. Her first three books have been translated into Czech and Slovak by EuroMedia. Since 2013, she has written and published three novellas, and eight novels (of which seven have been published). She has sold over a quarter of a million books around the globe.

In her previous life (i.e. before having children), Melanie got her Bachelor of Science from the University of Alberta, then went on to work in the soul-sucking customer service industry for a large cellular network provider that shall remain nameless (unless you write her personally – then she’ll dish). On her days off, she took courses and studied to become a Chartered Mediator. That designation landed her a job at the R.C.M.P. as the Alternative Dispute Resolution Coordinator for ‘K’ Division. Having had enough of mediating arguments between gun-toting police officers, she decided it was much safer to have children so she could continue her study of conflict in a weapon-free environment (and one which doesn’t require makeup and/or nylons).

Melanie resides in Edmonton with her husband, three young children, and their adorable but neurotic one-eyed dog. When she’s not writing novels, Melanie loves reading (obviously), snuggling up on the couch with her family for movie night (which would not be complete without lots of popcorn and milkshakes), and long walks in the woods near her house. She also spends a lot more time thinking about doing yoga than actually doing yoga, which is why most of her photos are taken ‘from above’. She also loves shutting down restaurants with her girlfriends. Well, not literally shutting them down, like calling the health inspector or something–more like just staying until they turn the lights off.

She is represented by Suzanne Brandreth of The Cooke Agency International.

Author links
Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

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Book Blitz: Adult Supervision Required by Sarah Peis #ContemporaryRomance #RomCom @XpressoTours

Adult Supervision Required
Sarah Peis
Publication date: May 6th 2021
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

Nora Lindberg doesn’t let life get her down. Disowned by her family and left by the man who was supposed to love her for the rest of their lives, she packs up her kids and goes in search of a second chance.

The small town she lands in was supposed to be her fresh start, her chance at a better life. But instead, she’s a broke single mom who spends her nights looking for the chocolate she hid from her kids.

When her ex lands on the local Motorcycle club’s most wanted list and leads them straight to her door, her life is once again turned upside down.

But maybe a broody hot guy on a motorcycle is just the thing she never asked for but got anyway.

Now the only question is: Will he be her savior or her downfall?

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

EXCERPT:

“I want cockporn,” Lena wailed.

“Don’t we all,” I muttered under my breath, then looked around the crowded supermarket, hoping nobody had heard her. “Not today, Sötnos. We still have some at home.”

“But I want—”

I clamped my hand over her mouth and speed-walked my way to the checkout, hoping Luca wouldn’t join her out of sympathy. He was two years older, but hadn’t outgrown the tantrums yet.

She didn’t like having her shriek interrupted and her little face went red with anger. But I’d rather deal with my daughter’s wrath than once again be the talk of the town. We made it outside in record time, Lena wailing the whole way, Luca holding his hands over his ears.

I was running late, my shift starting in less than twenty minutes, and I still had to drop my kids home and drive to work. After wrestling them into their seats and dumping my bags in the trunk I hightailed it back to the house.

Lena made sure we knew her displeasure at not getting any popcorn for the duration of the drive. My friend Stella was sitting on the front steps waiting when we pulled up.

“Sorry we’re late,” I greeted her, unbuckling the little hellions. She watched my kids for me on the nights I had to work.

I couldn’t really afford a babysitter, so when she offered, I had to put my pride aside and let her help. She was my friend—one of the few I had—and I just couldn’t do it on my own anymore. I worked two jobs, barely keeping my head above water, and needed any break I could get.

My day job was a virtual assistant, something I could do from home while watching the kids. Luca had recently started preschool, so I only had Lena most of the time. My second job was waitressing at Pepper’s, a strip club. It paid well, but the hours sucked. I never thought I’d end up where I was.

“Don’t worry, I only just got here. Mason dropped me off,” Stella said, cuddling Lena to her and holding Luca’s hand. “But aren’t you going to be late for work?”

I checked the time on my phone and sprinted up the steps. Definitely going to be late if I wasn’t ready in the next three minutes.

Author Bio:

Supporter of all things written, defender of the e-book revolution and master of the take out order – I’m not afraid to say I can’t cook, go a week without breaking something, read labels correctly or park cars in a straight line.

I love the written word in all forms and shapes and if I’m not glued to a book I’m attempting to write one. I’m a frequent blonde moment sufferer and still trying to figure out how to adult. I live in Melbourne, Australia, with my two little humans, the holder of my heart and two furry demons. I love to hear from readers so feel free to get in touch.

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Release Blitz: Irish Traveller by Brina Brady #kindleunlimited #LGBT @BrinaBrady @15VirginiaLee

IRISH TRAVELLER BY BRINA BRADY  

Irish Traveller/Romani/gay boyfriends/Tarot Cards/Missing red-haired girls/  

US Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0931928VK  

UK Link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0931928VK  

International Link: mybook.to/IrishTraveller  

The disturbing disappearance of yet another young, red-haired gal from the Irish Travellers’ Caravan site has everyone on edge. Then Shamus Maguire’s twelve-year-old sister Erin vanishes.  

While searching for clues to his sister’s disappearance, Shamus meets Lash Boswell, an older man from a Romani caravan site. Lash decides to help Shamus, and they set out together to find the truth about the many disappearances.  

Both their families disapprove of openly gay relationships. However, the tarot cards say these two are fated to be together. But to go public with their relationship, both would have family and friends forced to choose who they’ll stay true to, the family or Lash and Shamus.  

Can a Romani and an Irish Traveller make their relationship work without alienating their families? More importantly, can they work together to find Erin?  

EXCERPT:  

They walked side by side to the car but never touched shoulders. Careful in public was what both of them considered prevention. There was no reason for either of them to expose their private relationship to the public. The summer brought too many visitors to Shamus’s liking.  

After a while, they drove to Trim Castle, got out of the car, and walked around, but Shamus wanted to get to Dublin.  

“The castle was built in 1172 by the Anglo-Normans. Originally the castle was wooden. Two years later the Irish destroyed it and built another one out of stone,” Lash said.  

“Did you study history?”  

“My grandfather told me.”  

“I read that Trim Castle was used as the location for King John’s Castle in the film Braveheart,” Shamus said as he admired the traces of the glazed window that stood here hundreds of years ago. The Castle had three stories, and it possessed twenty sides with three of the four towers still standing. The wall was built to protect the castle and its inhabitants from potential invaders.  

“That’s right. I had forgotten about that.”  

“Do you mind if we get going?” Shamus asked, feeling the need to get ready for the search for Erin.  

“Sure, we need to settle at the camp tonight in Dublin. Tomorrow we’ll visit the first caravan site,” Lash mentioned when they were in the car on the way to campgrounds.  

The entire search overwhelmed Shamus. At least he had Lash who knew his way around and would keep him and the others safe.  

They found a remote area of a campsite and set up the tents. Shamus was hoping for them to sleep in one tent, but there were tents in the distance with few trees so it would be impossible to stay together in one tent; at least Lash didn’t take advantage of the situation, and for that he had to respect him.  

“So, what do you think?” Lash asked.  

“The trip was scenic for sure.”  

They had picked up chicken breasts to cook outside and a can of mixed vegetables.  

Lash started the fire in a pit, putting a screen over it so he could cook.  

“Do you cook outside often?” Shamus inhaled the delicious scent of lemon-flavored chicken.  

“Sure do. My brother and I love to eat outside.”  

“Your chicken smells delightful. This is the first meal you cooked for me.”  

“More to come if you want. I wanted to kiss you during the drive, but…”  

“I wanted you to kiss me. I wish we were sleeping in the same tent.”  

“Oh, we are, unless you don’t want to,” Lash said.  

“But we have two tents.”  

“I know that, but you just said you wished we were sleeping in the same tent.”  

“I did, and I get it now.” Shamus figured Lash must have thought he was an idiot and maybe he was. He had some formal education, but it didn’t help him in all matters, especially sexual ones.  

Lash served them both plates and they sat on two folding chairs in front of the fire. Shamus hadn’t eaten such spicy and tasty chicken before. He admired Lash and was grateful he took care of everything. His thoughts bounced between Lash and his sister. What was happening to her right now? Was she happy or unhappy? Had they hurt her in anyway? He had so many unanswered questions along with an immense fear for Erin.  

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Lash asked.  

“I don’t know how I feel. I’m worried about Erin and my brothers.”  

“Why don’t you call and check on them.”  

Lash took their plates and cleaned up while he called Molly. She said the boys went to school, did their homework, and were watching TV. His brothers got on the phone to say hello. He felt a little better after talking to them.  

Lash handed him an apple.  

“Hey, thanks. I’m so happy you’re here with me. I don’t think I have what it takes to get things done.”  

“Relax. Lean on me. I want to be there for you. I’ll help you every step of the way.” Lash wrapped his arms around him.  

“But why?”  

“I really like you. I mean not just the sex thing, though my feelings are everywhere when I look at you.”  

“I like you too.”  

Lash nodded his head. “I bet you like to bottom, right?”  

Shamus felt his face warming up into a blush. How did he know that about him? Was something written on his face to give him a clue.  

“It’s nothing to worry about. I just knew that about you. I top mostly. I mean if you wanted to give it a go, I’d let you.”  

“How old are you?”  

“Thirty-four, and you?”  

“Twenty-one. And before you ask, no, I don’t think you’re too old for me.”  

“Good. Just checking some things out before we settle in together. I don’t want to be fucking a minor, you know.”  

“Not a minor nor am I a virgin. Do you use condoms?”  

“I do and I have plenty with me.” Lash lifted his eyebrows making Shamus’s cock twitch.  

“I’m not that experienced. I hope you don’t use it against me.”  

“Stop talking about yourself like that. You’re adorable. What I want is to make you feel good in every place on your body when we’re together. You don’t really learn these things. They come from your feelings towards each other.”  

Connect with Brina Brady  

I would love to hear from my readers, so please drop me a line.  

My email address: brinabrady@gmail.com  

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Book Blitz: Death Watch by Annie Anderson #urbanfantasy @annieande @XpressoTours

Death Watch
Annie Anderson
(Soul Reader #2)
Publication date: April 27th 2021
Genres: Adult, Urban Fantasy

A prison break, a secret admirer, and a boatload of lies.
Just about everything Sloane Cabot knows about her past is a big old pile of malarkey. Couple that with the blank spot of how her family died, and she needs answers, like, yesterday.

But when a man shows up dead on her family’s grave, she knows it somehow has to be tied to that fateful night a year ago.

Too bad you can’t question the dead… or can you?

Goodreads / Amazon / Bookbub

EXCERPT:

A pair of guards opened the giant doors, bowing at Thomas as he guided me through. It was an actual struggle not to freeze at the entrance and stare. But man, did I want to. This place—while definitely what I would consider on-brand for a vamp nest—was one of the most magnificent buildings I’d ever been in. I wasn’t particularly interested in other churches, but this cathedral was just a beauty. A gallery of pews sat to the left and right of a wide aisle that led to a raised dais. Vampires filled the seats, dressed similarly to Thomas and me, their voices a low buzz of conversation. More people were sitting in the upper gallery, their opulent gowns and sharp tuxedos a happy reminder that Thomas had my back. Had I walked in here with leather pants and a whip on my hip, I had a feeling I would have been just a touch out of place.

Thomas continued his leading, guiding me down the aisle toward a stunningly severe woman sitting on what appeared to be a throne. Skin paler than death, eyes vamped out in a way that seemed permanent, and painted lips the color of blood, she was the most beautiful and yet most frightening woman I’d ever seen. Dark hair was piled on her head in purposefully haphazard curls, a few tendrils snaking out of the complicated up-do to artfully caress her neck. She wore a brilliant green gown that was so simple, and yet so achingly complex, it had to have cost a fortune.

We reached the end of the aisle, and Thomas bowed his head slightly. I copied him, wishing I would have received an etiquette lesson on the hour-long drive here. All I’d gotten was Thomas’ clenched jaw and silence.

“You have some nerve,” a woman growled, drawing my gaze from what had to be the queen of this nest to her right.

I quickly realized that the voice did not belong to a woman at all but a child. Pale-blonde hair and blue eyes were set in an elfin face of a vampire who had likely been no more than ten when she was turned. And that had to have been centuries ago. This little whisp of a “girl”—and I use that word lightly—had the look of a being older than dirt. Dressed in a black lace confection appropriate for a child beauty queen, she stood from her chair.

She then launched herself at Thomas.

I couldn’t exactly say why I did it. I mean, she had me by centuries, and Thomas could take care of himself. But as soon as her feet left the dais, I had the knife Clem had given me yanked from its sheath and was in front of the man in an instant.

Thomas owed me, not the other way around, but he’d been kind to me when I’d needed it, and I wouldn’t let him get attacked. No way, no how.

It was as if everyone froze. Conversations halted, guards stood stock-still, and even this slip of a thing stood arrested at the end of my blade, which was poised at her throat.

To this tiny—but by no means less deadly—vampire at the point of my knife, I said, “Settle down there, Blondie, or we’re going to have a problem.”

I had a feeling we probably already had one.

Author Bio:

Annie Anderson is a military wife and United States Air Force veteran. Originally from Dallas, Texas, she is a southern girl at heart, but has lived all over the US and abroad. As soon as the military stops moving her family around, she’ll settle on a state, but for now she enjoys being a nomad with her husband, two daughters, an old man of a dog, and a young pup that makes life… interesting.

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Book Blitz: Trey by M. Tasia #gayromance @RABTBookTours @BookBuzznet @MtasiaAuthor @BoroughsPubGrp

 

The Gates Series, Book 8

M/M Romance

Published: March 2021

Publisher: Boroughs Publishing Group

NORSE CODE

Talk about preconceived notions. NYPD Detective Anders Nilsen is sure Trey Stoneham is the scum of the earth: a tell-all journalist with a sketchy PI background. But truth is stranger than fiction, and it turns out Trey is a hero twice over.

When a serial killer Trey helped put away escapes prison, Anders has to stick to Trey like glue, which happens to be a job he’d gladly take on for a lifetime.

The road to falling in love is fraught with emotional and perilous landmines, and Trey is fine facing danger – he’s dodged a bullet before. Well, not really, but it didn’t kill him. Falling for a real-life Viking might do him in, and what a way to go.

Unless Trey’s able to face down the demon from his past and put him away for good, happily-ever-after will remain the stuff of novels.

Books in the Gates Series:

Saint

The Gates Book 1

Finn

The Gates Book 2

James

The Gates Book 3

Joey

The Gates Book 4

Bradley

The Gates Book 5

Carlos

The Gates Book 6

Sawyer

The Gates, Book 7

Trey

The Gates, Book 8


About the Author


M. Tasia is a M/M romance author who lives in Ontario, Canada. She’s is a dedicated people watcher, lover of romance novels, 80s rock, and happily-ever-afters (once the MCs are put through their paces, of course), who grew up with a love of reading. She’s a firm believer that everyone deserves to have love, excitement, and crazy hot romance in their lives. Love should be celebrated and shared.

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Book Blitz: Crimson Tears by Lyra Winters #reverseharem #paranormalromance @xpressotours

Crimson Tears
Lyra Winters
(The Crimson Demon, #1)
Publication date: April 17th 2021
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Reverse Harem, Romance

Death didn’t scare Lilith Whitlock. At the ripe age of twenty, she preferred to take whatever life threw at her, and if death was a curveball, she’d catch it.

What she didn’t expect was for impending death to be stalled by being transformed into a vampire.

With sharp, pointy teeth and a hunger for blood, Lilith adapted to her new life. Befriending three hot vampires with a mission to maintain balance had something to do with that, but the paranormal world wasn’t perfect.

Especially when she learned creating new vampires was illegal. Now, she had to prove herself as indispensable to the Order of the Void, or she’d be obliterated from existence.

No one mentioned that being a new-blood came with a looming threat and imminent danger.

Crimson Tears is book one of three in the Crimson Demon Trilogy. It is a paranormal why-choose romance centered around three vampires and one demon. It contains mature subject matter that might not be suitable for all readers.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

The coppery bite of dried blood invaded my nostrils. Scrunching my nose up, I twitched my fingers, moving them along a satin fabric beneath me. Wherever I was, it was a hell of a lot more comfortable than cold, wet tar and broken glass.

Oh, fuck.

My brain flooded with snippets of what had happened: the weird animal on the road, the crash, my body breaking on the pavement, the voices with mesmerizing British accents, sexy man bun guy, and the blinding pain.

I swallowed hard, my hand wrapping around my throat as I winced at the burning sensation.

How the fuck am I moving? My bones were shattered. I was dying.

I patted my arms, legs, stomach, chest, and head to find no injuries at all. It was like the car accident hadn’t even happened. The only indication it had was that my clothes were torn and uncomfortable dried blood was crusted all over me.

Fuck. Panic flitted through me. My phone was in the passenger seat.

I reached up and clasped the fire opal pendant resting on my neck, and a calmness spread over me from the warmth it radiated.

Thank God it’s still there.

I pried my bleary eyes open as I sat upright with adrenaline flooding my system. My gaze darted around the room, soaking in my surroundings. Soft evening light from the large glass balcony door bathed the room in a golden hue.

I was lying on a soft king-size mattress with various throw pillows scattered around me. A few gothic-like paintings hung on the white walls, and I could see the details of the brush strokes.

A low whistle from the wind howling outside was the only sound in the room, and it was eerie as fuck. I wasn’t used to that level of quiet growing up with two older brothers.

Shit.

I had to let them know I was okay.

I swung my legs to the side of the bed, and my bare feet hit the plush carpet as I stood.

“Welcome to Draven Manor,” a deep voice drawled.

I whirled around to find a man leaning against the door that led to the balcony with his arms crossed—tattoos of dragons, fire, and some language I didn’t recognize covered his biceps.

He was fucking hot in a rugged kind of way. Pure white hair spiked up on his head, and a scent of charcoal and soot wafted off him. His steel eyes pierced me as his head tilted to the side, and his pink tongue darted out to wet his lips.

I couldn’t tell if it was a good or a bad thing that there was a bed separating us.

“What the fuck? How are you even real?” My tongue ran over my bottom lip. “You’re like a seriously hot anime character from an otome game.”

His lips quirked up into a cocky smile, and dangerous heat rushed through me. “What the fuck is an otome game?”

Planting a hand on my hip, I grinned. “It’s a video game. That’s all you need to know.”

“I do have Google, you know?”

“Hmm. Then I guess you can look it up yourself and sate your curiosity.”

“I’d rather sate something else, Poppy.” His gaze darkened as it raked up and down my body with clear desire.



Author Bio:

Lyra Winters is a twenty-something Kentucky woman who adores the book world. When she’s not typing away on her laptop or daydreaming book ideas, Lyra is occupying her time taking care of her two spunky daughters and dreamy husband. She’s addicted to Coca-Cola, 2000s rap music, and bubble baths. Her dream is to write love stories that touch the reader’s hearts.

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Book Blitz: The Glass Slipper by K. Webster #ContemporaryRomance @KristiWebster

The Glass Slipper
K. Webster
Published by: Dangerous Press
Publication date: April 20th 2021
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Betraying the most powerful man in New York wasn’t something I ever envisioned when I first started playing games with Winston Constantine. But he’s engaged in far more dangerous games than ours, and his enemies are out for blood.

Winston has my heart, the Morellis have incriminating photos, and I’m left with nothing except three stepbrothers who want to hurt me and a future in doubt. I knew Winston wouldn’t be my prince charming, but that didn’t stop me from falling for him.
After all, the slippers fit, and I let myself believe I’d be dancing with Winston forever.
Until too much truth comes to light.

Until I realize instead of ruling the board, I was just a pawn.

In the end, I have only one question. When his game with me is over, will I be able to pretend as if the glass slipper wasn’t a perfect fit?

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play

EXCERPT:

Chirp.

I love my bird. Shrimp is the best little birdie on the planet. But, the one single sound he makes isn’t a pleased one. It’s angry. Hurt. Scared. This, above anything else that’s happened tonight, is the most upsetting. I’ve let Winston down. And, I’ve let my damn bird down.

Stupidly, I got swept up in the little fairy tale I’d imagined where I was a maid turned princess who perfectly fit into her filthy prince’s story. Winston, billionaire CEO and world’s hottest bachelor, gave me a fantasy not a reality. He offered me a world made of glass. I stepped into those new shoes, blinded by the shininess, eager to be his little plaything.

But the cracking has begun.

At the first sign of trouble, everything feels as though it’s going to shatter at my feet.

No charming prince will be sweeping me in his arms this time.

I bite down on my lip to keep from crying. I’m tired of crying. Emotionally exhausted. Sick of it. Swallowing down the tight ache in my throat, I lock the apartment door and then swivel around to greet my bird.

“Shrimp,” I say in a raspy, wobbly voice as I toss my purse onto the love seat and kick off my heels. “Welcome home.” To the whore apartment.

He flaps his wings angrily from inside his cage. I’m unnerved wondering how he even got here. Winston obviously handled this during all the chaos that was dinner when he’d been texting someone.

It’s not just my bird.

Sitting on my bed is my bag of toiletries, my backpack, and a garment bag that most definitely doesn’t belong to me. I don’t have to unzip it to know it’ll be filled with outfits that were once hanging in my room at Winston’s place.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry,” I chant, even as fresh, hot tears roll out.

I unlatch Shrimp’s cage door so he can get some space. Rather than hopping into my waiting hand, he flutters past me, swooping around the small area. He chirps in sharp, high-pitched noises that indicate he’s not pleased about his surroundings. The poor bird misses his chandelier playground, high ceilings, and huge windows.

“I fucked it up,” I explain to him with a wave of my hand. “I can’t even begin to imagine what the fallout for all of this will be.”

And I can’t.

Author Bio:

K Webster is a USA Today Bestselling author. Her titles have claimed many bestseller tags in numerous categories, are translated in multiple languages, and have been adapted into audiobooks. She lives in “Tornado Alley” with her husband, two children, and her baby dog named Blue. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, drinking copious amounts of coffee, and researching aliens.

You can easily find K Webster on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, and Goodreads!

Can’t find a certain book? Maybe it’s too hot for Amazon! Don’t worry because titles like Bad Bad Bad, This is War, Baby, The Wild, and Hale can all be found for sale on K’s website in both ebook and paperback format.

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Release Blitz: Leviathan by Sky Purington #dragonshifters #timetravel

 

 

Leviathan

Viking Ancestors: Forged in Fire 
Book One
Sky Purington
 
Genre: Time Travel Dragon Shifter Romance
Date of Publication: April 12, 2021
ASIN: B08NFGDNWR
Number of pages: 210
Word Count: 70K
Cover Artist: Tara West
 
Tagline: An explosive enemies-to-lovers tale teeming with wicked secrets and fiery passion.
 
Book Description: 
 
The only thing Destiny knows is her name, but who’s complaining? She lives in a beautiful million-dollar seaside chalet without a care in the world. At least until a psychic shows up at her front door claiming Destiny’s true identity is remarkable. She must remember who she is. What she’s meant to do. If that isn’t enough, her house isn’t her own, and her fate tied to a man in the distant past. A fierce, brooding Viking who’s too arrogant for his own good yet sinfully alluring.
 
Leviathan doesn’t believe in love, so the woman he saved shouldn’t be haunting his thoughts. Especially considering they barely got along. Yet now, thanks to the fire he used to keep Destiny alive, the feisty, stunning redhead is put in his path once more. Worse yet, she might be the foretold Sigdir who sparks the next Great War. That means she must die by his blade once and for all.
 
Will Leviathan be able to sacrifice Destiny to save everyone? Or is it already too late, and she’s found her way into a heart he didn’t know he had? Find out as they embark on an epic dragon shifter romance adventure across time in Viking Ancestors: Forged in Fire. 

mybook.to/LeviathanForgedinFire

Amazon

Excerpt

As dumbfounded as she’d been when she saw it from afar, Destiny looked up at the castle towering over her. It wasn’t a typical Viking structure but something more sinister yet somehow alluring. Blackened wall walks curved around dozens of towers, and spires shot toward the sky.

“Though he calls it the Realm’s, welcome to what everyone calls Leviathan’s Keep behind his back,” Freya informed. “Because he does so much for us. Gives us safe harbor.” She grinned. “He built it to Múspellsheimr standards to make its dragons feel welcome. All dragons, for that matter.” She glanced at Leviathan with pride. “It’s seen many battles over the years as dragons grew into their own, but in the end, it’s always been a place of resolution and accord. A place where dragons can act like themselves among their own kind.”

“Impressive.” She meant it too. This place was something else.

She eyed people as they made their way toward an ancient-looking grand staircase leading to a behemoth door flagged by massive torches. Though everyone looked normal enough, Viking to the bone, she could feel the fluctuating animalistic energy in the air. Leviathan nodded at many in passing but said little, his expression hard though his eyes were cordial enough.

“It might be safe, but he still doesn’t want them out in this unnatural weather, does he?” she murmured. “He’s worried about them.”

“Every hour of every day of every year,” Freya said softly. “Endlessly.” Her knowing gaze slid Destiny’s way. “Not many see that so clearly.” She considered her. “Or better put, feel it.”

“My necklace then?” Destiny hadn’t missed the shocked glances that went from her face to her collar. Again, she felt the urge to yank it off, declaring her independence, and again, just as swiftly, wanted it right where it was.

“You know better than to ask me that.” Freya stuck close, making it clear to all they were allies. Friends despite having just met. “You knew Leviathan better than most before I put that necklace on you.”

“Perhaps,” she murmured, but Freya was right. Whatever had happened between them had bonded them together in a way she knew damn well he struggled with. She struggled with.

Yet it had happened.

Was part of them.

And it was locking them together more readily than a collar ever could.

The inside of the castle took her breath away with its stark, towering, regal yet gothic beauty. A massive octagonal great hall led to several long, spiraling staircases going in different directions, rising up so high she wondered if there were an end in sight. Endless cathedral-like stained glass windows depicting sweeping dragons were made more magnificent by the shimmering ash beyond.

“Look at this place,” she whispered in awe, not sure what to admire first.

Four behemoth hearths hosted roaring fires, and huge bowls of fire hung like chandeliers as high as the eye could see. The air smelled of smoke, lust, and roasting meat.

“It used to reek of sulfur too,” Freya said out of the corner of her mouth, “but Leviathan whipped things into shape and taught this bunch how to get their dragon breath under control.”

She bit back a smile. “Glad to hear that.”

Everyone might appear Viking with fur cloaks and pagan looks, but there was no mistaking the fire flaring in many a cat-like eye. Dragons peered back at her with such strong curiosity she knew her collar had made a big impact.

Where Leviathan had remained in front of them to this point, now he fell in beside Destiny. Not to introduce her but rather, from what she could tell, to claim his territory. There was no grand introduction that a time traveler had arrived but rather a pointed sweep from his stormy gaze, lingering on select group of males before he gestured that she follow him.

“Seriously?” she said under her breath to Freya. “Was that Leviathan’s way of welcoming me?”

“Yes.” Freya chuckled and linked arms with her, again making it clear to all they were friends. “And I’ve never seen him do it. Not once with anyone.” She winked. “Let alone a woman branded by his scale.”

“Ah, so that’s the official name for wearing this around my neck?” She snorted. “Sounds like ownership if I didn’t know better.”

“But you do know better,” Freya reminded. “You know this is all for show because you and Leviathan don’t do forever.”

 

 

About the Author:

Sky Purington is the bestselling author of over fifty novels and novellas. A New Englander born and bred who recently moved to Virginia, Purington married her hero, has an amazing son who inspires her daily and two ultra-lovable husky shepherd mixes. Passionate for variety, Sky’s vivid imagination spans several romance genres, including historical, time travel, paranormal, fantasy and erotica. Expect steamy stories teeming with protective alpha heroes and strong-minded heroines.

Purington loves to hear from readers and can be contacted at Sky@SkyPurington.com. Interested in keeping up with Sky’s latest news and releases? Either visit Sky’s website, http://www.SkyPurington.com, join her quarterly newsletter, or sign up for personalized text message alerts. Text ‘skypurington’ (no quotes, one word, all lowercase) to 74121. Texts will ONLY be sent when there is a new book release. Readers can easily opt out at any time. 

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