Wolfsbane Hall Hazel St. Lewis Publication date: August 13th 2025 Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance, Thriller
Phantom meets Clue:
She’s forced to murder to survive—until it’s her turn to die.
At Wolfsbane Hall, a secretive 1930s San Francisco murder mystery club, actress Celestine Sinclair plays a deadly role: executing victims who can only return to life once their murders are solved. Haunted by guilt yet bound by unwavering loyalty, she obeys the orders of the Specter—the club’s unseen mastermind and source of its magic.
But when his nemesis seizes control and poisons her, the game changes. The only way to survive? Solve the night’s mystery and unmask the Specter—an identity that has remained hidden for centuries. Even worse, the three prime suspects are the men closest to her: her lover, her enemy, and her best friend. One of them has betrayed her, and she has only hours left to uncover the truth.
The clock is ticking, the stakes are fatal, and this time, death will last forever.
Wolfsbane Hall: A Deluxe Edition Romantasy Thriller
Check out the Kickstarter here!
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EXCERPT:
Celestine Sinclair hated being a murderer.
She hated blood dripping through her fingertips and clumping in her hair. She hated watching poison devour a body, and the feeling of her hands stretching around a slender throat.
Everything about murder was ghastly, but if she had to choose, her favorite way to kill was suffocation with a pillow while a person was drugged and unconscious. It was two and a half minutes of hell—hell she deserved for the act—but at least it was quiet and didn’t leave a mess.
Celestine loathed messes.
Unfortunately, the very nature of her profession required much more theatrical deaths. The audience didn’t come to Wolfsbane Hall to watch, as they put it, dull and tedious deaths; no, like vultures, the rich, pompous pricks wanted carnage.
They wanted a show.
So, Celestine Sinclair would give them one. That was her one objective as an actress at the infamous nightclub: show above all else.
Show above one’s own sanity.
“You’re wasting time,” said a voice forged from darkness, twisting from the room’s shadows. It was glazed in honeyed whiskey. Sweet yet potent.
The Specter—the magical and mysterious owner of Wolfsbane Hall, the glittering palace at the edge of San Francisco, filled with as much mystery as magnificence. It was a place patrons became a part of a murder mystery show. Glitter, grandeur, and witchcraft were laced into every inch of the manor, interwoven into a tapestry of entertainment.
“You must prepare for your next murder,” the Specter said as a whisper in her ear, darkness twirling and cloaking her from the patrons meandering into the Grand Ballroom—the club’s showroom.
“I know, Specter,” Celestine breathed.
Author Bio:
Hazel St. Lewis is a Northern California-based Romantasy author. Diagnosed with dyslexia at a young age, she struggled to read and write, but fantasy stories inspired her to start storytelling. Unfortunately, now, she is a little too obsessed with morally gray characters. When she isn’t writing, she can be found playing with her hoard of cats (too many to count…it’s a problem), singing songs to said cats, or painting.
Murder, Mystery & Mothers Fran Heap (A Willowcroft Cozy Mystery, #1) Genres: Adult, Cozy Mystery
“You’d better leave town or else”.
After a devastating betrayal mystery writer Tammy Rumbelow flees LA for a charming blue cottage in Willowcroft, Michigan. But when a yellowed letter in the attic reveals an unsolved 70-year-old locked room murder in her living room, her peace is shattered.
Determined to start fresh, Tammy enlists the help of a ragtag group of locals:
Bookstore owner Olivia Huddlestone offers a sanctuary for clandestine conversations and genealogical sleuthing among her shelves.
Eccentric Mrs. Hazel Temperance mines her knitting circle for gossip.
Retired detective “Wally” has contacts at the sheriff’s department.
Tech whiz kid Xander Simmons hasn’t met a computer he didn’t like—or a website he can’t hack.
And a stray cat with a nose for clues…
As threatening letters appear and break-ins escalate around town, Tammy must prove to herself—and her inner critic—that she’s capable of solving a murder, or will that be two?
Perfect for fans of multi-generational mysteries filled with quirky characters like Only Murders in the Building and crime-solving writers like Castle.
At three in the morning, with her cursor blinking on an empty page, Tammy Rumbelow stumbled upon an online listing in rural Michigan. For the First time in months, a flicker of hope sparked.
The realtor’s photos of the little blue cottage with its front porch and white picket fence, had set her heart alight. The interior was as enchanting as the exterior, featuring an antique writing desk where inspiration could strike.
On a whim—or perhaps out of desperation—she’d picked up the phone and bought it based on the pictures alone. She had never even visited the state before. Had fate handed her a lifeline, or had she made the biggest mistake of her life?
Now, six weeks later, Tammy’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel; nerves and fanfare clashed in her stomach. This was it—her fresh start. But a familiar undercurrent of doubt threatened to bubble to the surface. She turned off the highway. The country roads, flanked by dense forests of oak, maple, and pine, marked the last stretch of her six-day drive from Los Angeles to Willowcroft.
She rolled down the window. The crisp breeze tousled long, wavy strands of brown hair over her face. Tammy inhaled, savoring the clean air. It reminded her of childhood summers—when life was untangled.
As the miles stretched behind her, the hum of the tires a constant companion, fragments of her former life in LA surfaced. Tammy’s chest constricted at the memory of her best manuscript—a boundary-pushing idea. But she’d never seen it in print, at least not under her name. Instead, her rushed, uninspired replacement made it to the shelves, the one cobbled together in the aftermath, her creativity fractured and trust shattered.
The book reviews rang in her head. “No emotional depth.” “Lacked soul.” Tammy winc ed, acknowledging their bitter truth. But the one that stung the deepest: “She’s not just over forty, she’s over, full stop.” They don’t know the real story behind those pages.
“You can never do anything right,” her mother’s sneer boomed, reopening old wounds. It had taken years to quiet the nagging doubts from her childhood, but the betrayal let those words flood back stronger than ever. The steering wheel grew slick under her clammy palms.
A road sign came into view, providing a diversion. “Welcome to Willowcroft. Township Population 999. Greater Willowcroft Population 5,124.”
Will I tip the scales to an even thousand? Any distraction helped. Was two thousand miles far enough away to break free?
Author Bio:
I am based in Melbourne, Australia but have lived in London, Copenhagen and New Jersey. I’ve been to 61 countries but want to visit over 190.
I’m a poor excuse of a redhead who loves ancient ruins and drains, hates dusting, revels in going behind the scenes, can’t smile in photos and detests selfie sticks (though I now own one).
I have a penchant for collecting quirky data and my favourite saying is: curiosity killed the cat, but information brought him back.
I have wanted to be a writer since I was nine but also had aspirations of being a famous actress, an astronaut, owning a department store and opening up a youth hostel. I became a career Nanny and Neonatal Nurse instead.
Now I am an author of cozy mystery novels (and travel books).
If you make a deal with the Devil, don’t forget to read the fine
print.
Three operatives find themselves on the run after a corporate sabotage job
goes awry. Now, their predatory employer, a heavyweight weapons-tech firm,
wants its elite A-team dead at all costs. Jon is a smooth-talking
charmer. Friedrich is a hacker prodigy. And Guion is the ice-cold tactician
who keeps them all in line.
Backs against the wall, the men strike separate infernal pacts to stay
alive. They vanish into the urban badlands of New York’s Five Hives,
vowing to lie low and figure out why they’ve become targets.
Meanwhile, Jon suspects there’s an insidious evil possessing his
friends, and he wonders if they all got more than they bargained for.
Amid an escalating war between local gangs and the firm’s private
shock troops, the fugitives uncover a conspiracy that threatens to destroy
everyone they know and love. But can they stop the destruction before their
inner demons seize control?
About the Author
At the age of four, Russell Anders started telling stories, often
interrupting his mother during bedtime reading to ask, “Then what
happened?” She always answered, “You tell me,” and his
imagination conjured fantastical tales of dragons and dinosaurs.
He gravitated toward a career as a technical writer and writing coach for
software companies. He also briefly served as a columnist for Dragon
Magazine. One of his favorite hobbies includes tabletop role playing,
especially as the game master. And yes, he’s as cruel to the characters in
his games as he is to the characters in his books; his players love him for
it.
Russel lives with the constant canine companionship of whip-smart but goofy
Sigurd, an English Mastiff (the best breed ever).
Best Friend’s Little Sister/Older Brother’s Best Friend
Lovers to Enemies to Lovers
Release Date: July 22, 2025
BLURB
Everything I’d ever done had been because of Scarlett Green.
I’d worked hard in school, played hard but trained harder all while waiting for her to get her degree. Her brother, my best friend, knew how I felt about her and the only promise I’d made to him was that I’d wait to make my move until after she’d graduated.
That day finally came, and I’d come home to celebrate with her and send her on her way to new job in a new city. The exact same city I was living in, New York. It was finally going to be our time. I planned to offer her a place to live. After all, I had just bought a large three-bedroom condo after signing a five-year contract with the New York Predators.
Only our time was short lived when my past came back to haunt me in the form of a child I knew nothing about. Overnight, my life was turned upside down. Like the good woman Scarlett is, she immediately put a stop to everything between us, demanding I concentrate on learning how to raise my baby boy while playing hockey.
Now, five years later, I’ve gotten control over our life when the news came that I was being traded to the Vancouver Dominators. Without debate I moved to Vancouver. Within six months of my return, I ran into Scarlett and her brother at one of our home games. She’s not only moving to Vancouver but she is here to do an article on the team for the new Canadian division of the Ice Insiders, a sports publication. After one disastrous run in with her I learn she’s living in my building and looking to find Mr. Right. I figured now might be the perfect time to pick up where we left off, after all I was certain she was meant to be mine.
USA Today Bestselling Author S.L. Sterling was born and raised in southern Ontario. She now lives in Northern Ontario Canada and is married to her best friend and soul mate and their two dogs.
An avid reader all her life, S.L. Sterling dreamt of becoming an author. She decided to give writing a try after one of her favorite authors launched a course on how to write your novel. This course gave her the push she needed to put pen to paper and her debut novel “It Was Always You” was born.
When S.L. Sterling isn’t writing or plotting her next novel she can be found curled up with a cup of coffee, blanket and the newest romance novel from one of her favorite authors.
In her spare time, she enjoys camping, hiking, sunny destinations, spending quality time with family and friends and of course reading.
The Forged Empire Samantha Gillespie (The Kingdom Within, #3) Publication date: July 15th 2025 Genres: Historical Romance, Young Adult
She married a prince. She loved a soldier. Now she must decide what she’s willing to sacrifice to save them all.
As the specter of war looms, Meredith Ethan, and Connor are thrust into a final, desperate struggle for freedom. With Stonefall reclaimed and the plague’s grip finally broken, they must now race to forge new alliances before Theros-the ruthless King of Talos-brings his twisted vision of an empire to life.
But Theros’s ambitions run deeper than conquest-and Meredith is at the heart of his plans.
As betrayals mount and loyalties are tested, she finds herself caught between the prince she married and the soldier she never forgot.
And beneath the weight of destiny, Meredith must decide who she truly is:
a queen who must learn to believe in her own strength… or a pawn in a game she can no longer control.
In a war where survival means sacrifice, the price of freedom may be everything.
The final battle is here. And only one legacy will endure.
A tremor starts in my hands again, subtle but insistent. I clench my fists, willing it to stop.
“My lady?” Anabella appears near the foot of the staircase, her wide eyes fixed on me, worry plain in her gaze.
My pulse pounds harder in my ears, and the air feels thick, suffocating. A bead of sweat traces a line down my temple, and I lift a trembling hand to brush it away. The motion betrays me. My uncle’s eyes narrow, alarm darkening his expression.
“You’re quite pale,” he remarks, his voice softer now but no less authoritative. “Sit down before you fall.”
“I’m fine,” I say, gritting my teeth. “It’s just a dizzy spell—”
The room wavers, and a sharp pain lances through my temple. I dig my nails into the carved wood of a nearby table, struggling to stay upright. Voices fade into a muffled roar behind the pounding in my ears. My legs threaten to buckle, yet I take a step forward . . . feeling as if the crown itself is dragging me down.
“Meredith!” Anabella cries out, her fear breaking through decorum. She rushes forward, but someone stops her—a hand grabbing her arm, likely my uncle’s.
“No one is to approach her!” The command explodes from my uncle’s throat like a war cry, freezing everyone mid-step. “She was inoculated this morning—she could be infected!”
Infected.
Understanding dawns like poison spreading through my veins. They think the inoculation failed. They think I’m a walking plague, a vector of death.
Am I?
My knees buckle as the implications cascade through my mind. The room warps and tilts, faces stretching into grotesque masks of fear and revulsion.
“Please, let me help her!” Anabella’s voice cracks with desperation, cutting through the growing pandemonium. “She’s fainting—she needs—”
My uncle stops her. “Stay where you are, woman, or I’ll have you restrained!”
I struggle to form reassurances, denials, anything. But my tongue lies thick and useless in my mouth. The marble floor begins its inexorable rise to meet me, my legs folding like paper beneath my weight. Colors bleed together, the world smearing into an impressionist nightmare.
“Get the physician! Now!” My uncle’s bellow seems to come from very far away, echoing down a tunnel of gathering darkness.
I’m falling—but suddenly strong arms encircle me, crushing me against a chest that thunders with someone else’s racing heartbeat. The scent of leather and pine fills my fading senses, achingly familiar.
“Get away from her!” the duke roars. “You fool—you’re putting yourself at risk! Guards, pull him back!”
“Try it.” Connor’s voice is a low growl. “See what happens.”
The threat hangs in the air, electric with promise. Even through my fading consciousness, I feel the tension ratchet higher, guards hesitating at the challenge in his tone.
Through the narrow slits of my barely-open eyes, I see Connor’s face swimming above me, those midnight-blue eyes fierce with determination. His jaw is set in stone, daring anyone to test him. His lips move urgently, forming words that reach me only as distant whispers, lost in the roaring tide of unconsciousness.
The last thing I register is his arms tightening around me, unyielding as iron, before the darkness swallows me whole.
Author Bio:
Samantha Gillespie writes the kind of romantasy novels she loves to read: stories packed with forbidden love, slow-burn tension, and just enough angst to keep you up way past your bedtime.
She lives in Houston with her husband and their ever-expanding menagerie—cats who’ve crowned themselves royalty, a dog with strong opinions about the weather, and chickens whose sole mission is acquiring treats and destroying the yard. When she’s not breaking hearts through fiction, she thrives on copious amounts of coffee, sharp wit, and the delicious tears of her devoted readers.
In a city plagued by hidden crime, Rachel Remington is a solitary investigator
haunted by her family’s tragic past—her mother’s murder and
her father’s assassination. At 26, her obsession with finding their
killers drives her into a dangerous confrontation with a shadowy underworld of
illicit drug trafficking.
Will Rachel Get Her Revenge?
As hope emerges through the enigmatic Detective Trent, Rachel’s life spirals
into chaos. As they join forces, she discovers hidden agendas and dark secrets
threatening to consume her.
Games, Betrayals, and Love
Caught in a perilous game of trust and betrayal, Rachel must uncover her
family’s past while evading those determined to silence her. In a
thrilling tale of revenge and unexpected alliances, will Rachel uncover the
truth, seize her chance for redemption, find love, or will the shadows of her
past cost her everything?
About the Author
It’s never too late to make my dreams come true. I was lucky to be
born on the southern shores of the Mediterranean Sea, specifically in
Alexandria. My summers were spent on the beach, enjoying the sunshine, the
original surfboards/paddle boards, and the game of sand pickleball before it
even made it to the US.
Not having TVs, I read many books, especially wartime ones, Ian
Flemings’s early James Bond novels, John Le Carre, Agatha Christie,
Maurice LeBlanc (Arsene Lupin), and other detective/mystery-type books. For
school, we had to read all the French Classics. I was always intrigued by how
the characters always managed to resolve their problems.
At the Age of 19, I came to California as a foreign student. After graduating
with an engineering degree, I was able to obtain my permanent residency. I
never looked back. My mother was able to join me, but unfortunately, my father
passed away.
Once I graduated with a Mechanical Engineering degree, I joined an
International Engineering and Construction Company and spent all my working
time with them. What was great is that the company moved me to many work
projects around the world, where I spent an average of a couple of years on
each. My wife joined me on some of these assignments.
But my love for writing was always with me. During my stay abroad, I wrote a
philosophical book and many articles for local newspapers and the Laguna Beach
weekly issues, comparing life in Laguna Beach with life in Indonesia. I wrote
articles for the company’s monthly newsletter, as well as for other
publications.
I recently decided to use a “nom de plume”/pseudonym for my
writings. My real name is Jean-Pierre Zacaropoulos. Having a last name
starting with a “Z” had me called upon in classes either as one of
the last ones or one of the first one. It was always a guessing game. But
usually having an A or B will push you to the top (Ha! Ha!). So I decided to
choose a “B”
Now, I have a little bit more time, so I decided to make my long-time desire
come true. I wrote my mystery/romance novel, which will be followed shortly
after by a sequel.
Award-winning author E.M. Shue returns with another installment in the Happily Ever Alpha World, created by USA Today and New York Times best-selling author Aurora Rose Reynolds.
Ham Martinez never expected a traffic confrontation to change his life.
When a sexy little blonde cuts him off and blows him a kiss, Ham assumes it’s just a playful invitation. But the moment he looks into her eyes, everything shifts. She’s his. He doesn’t care that her sole focus is her doctoral studies. Ham is determined to prove that he’s her future and the one she can trust with her heart.
Presley Blanchard has one goal. Earn her doctorate and finally gain her father’s approval.
She also wants to avoid her cruel stepsister, who finds great joy in bullying her. But when Presley accidentally cuts off a black lifted Jeep, she apologizes with a pucker of her lips, thinking that’s the end of it. She never expects the driver to chase after her, or for him to be a tall, sexy, alpha male who won’t leave her alone. He promises to make her his priority, something she’s craved for a very long time. Giving Ham a chance and losing her heart wasn’t in her plans, but now she can’t imagine a life without him.
When Presley catches the attention of a deadly enemy, Ham will stop at nothing to protect her. As the danger surrounding Presley grows, their love will be tested by the deadly waters threatening to tear them apart. Ham and Presley will have to fight through the darkness to dive into their BOOM, no matter what stands in their way.
If you loved Until Hanna, you won’t be able to put down Until Presley.
Writer, wife, mother of three girls, grandma to two beautiful grand-daughters, doggie mom to one, and doggie grandma to five. This multi-published award-winning author likes her whiskey Irish, her chocolate dark and her hockey hard hitting. She’s an avid reader and you can find her Kindle packed full of all sub-genres of romance. When she isn’t writing action-adventure, dark-mafia, suspense, MC, and strong woman she’s spending time with her family exploring Alaska.
She’s currently writing several series and stand-alones in multiple sub-genres of romance but all are hot & steamy and action-packed.
Four of her books have won the Colorado RWA Beverley contest, Sniper’s Kiss in 2018 for Suspense, Angel’s Kiss in 2019 for Contemporary, Accidentally Noah in 2020 for Suspense, and Zeke’s Choice in 2021 for Suspense, while many others were finalists in this same contest.
E.M.’s favorite saying is don’t piss her off she’ll write you into a book and kill you off in a new and gory way.
Aurora Rose Reynolds and her husband, Sedaka Reynolds, created Boom Factory Publishing to use their experiences to expand and promote upcoming and existing indie authors.
With over five years in the industry, and millions of books sold worldwide, we know what it takes to become a successful author and we will use this knowledge to take our authors to the next level.
“As a successful hybrid author in this ever evolving industry, I know that you’re only as successful as the team that is promoting you!” – Aurora Rose Reynolds
How to Date a Prince Hayden Stone Publication date: July 15th 2025 Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, LGBTQ+, Romance
What happens when the British Crown Prince falls in love with an American man who opposes the monarchy?
Prince Auggie swears he’s no kind of dashing prince: daydreamer, private—and also secretly very gay. He’s instantly horrified when his father, reality TV addict King James, signs Auggie up for a reality TV show to promote the monarchy, where the man with the most talents wins—and to help find Auggie a bride, the very last thing Auggie wants. But duty calls.
When Auggie finds out his co-star is irritatingly gorgeous Thomas Golden, the charismatic dual American-English heir to the Golden hotel fortune, it’s another step too far. There’s at least one problem: Prince Auggie’s already recently crossed paths with Thomas Golden one disastrous night in a London club. Plus, there’s that whole second not-so-small, not-so-secret problem—the Golden family wants to get rid of the monarchy.
Once Auggie and Thomas arrive on set in the English countryside, it’s already unapologetically hate at first sight. It’s going to be a very long summer of filming…until sparks fly behind the scenes, leading them to make a searing heatwave all their own. But soon, real reality strikes, and Auggie must choose between the life he’s destined for as the future king—or dare risk everything for love.
An enemies-to-lovers, opposites-attract, feel-good gay royal rom-com.
For fans of Red, White & Royal Blue, Boyfriend Material, and The Unlikely Heir.
In my next life, I’ll be reborn as Harry Styles. Or maybe as the reincarnation of Taylor Swift. I’ll still be famous if I must, but I’ll be famous due to my talent instead of my chance birth as a royal. I’m quite sure I’m a negative ten on the talent-o-meter.
Everything else is just genetics. And training.
It’s Friday night in London, and Mayfair glitters. When I step out of the black SUV, straightening to my full height, I pause in the drizzle for the cameras on the red carpet at the charity ball. Snapping shutters echo, and a familiar blinding flash dazzles my eyes.
I give my best public smile and stop in a flattering pose, then strike another pose for my best angles like the Danish prince once taught me during a secret fling. Work it, babe, Prince Theodor coached me then as we drank spicy margaritas, which incidentally led to more spice.
More confidence, more sultry. Hand on my hip and a three-quarter turn to the cameras.
The crowd cheers their approval as I’m blinded by the lights. I wave, smile broadly, and carry on, mindful of not tripping over my own feet.
“Prince Auggie! Over here!”
“Prince Auggie—where’s Katie? I’ll be your date!”
“Prince Auggie, come back!”
Tonight, I’m shamelessly selling the image of charming Prince Auggie, future British monarch. I’d like to meet him too, to be honest, because he’s great in the press. Cool guy. From the outside, he has it together. The media and public are fascinated, so somehow, I must be doing something right. Or quite possibly, I’m doing something wrong enough that the media sticks to me waiting for my next mistake.
I’m all kitted up in an edgy mohair tux that an up-and-coming London designer sent over to me. I’m at least looking the part of the dashing prince, even if I can’t get over the idea that the dashing prince is supposed to be me.
To be fair, I do look good enough, taking after my mum—see genetics above—though I wish I loved crowds like she had. The looks balance out the panic, my friend Gav told me. He said it’s heaps of fun not knowing what I might blurt out next. For him, maybe. Meanwhile, I try to keep my mouth shut as a preventative measure in case something messy accidentally spills out.
“Prince Auggie, is it true you’re still single?”
“Prince Auggie, would you take a photo with me? It’s my birthday!”
I pause and go to the young woman at the barrier for a photo taken by her friend. The paparazzi goes wild. We both grin, and for a moment, I pretend I’m carefree. “Happy birthday,” I say, on my best behavior as she gives a small curtsy. “How do you do.”
She blushes, too tongue-tied to speak.
My father, the King, told me not to be too extra tonight, as if he can sniff out rising rebellion like the dawn breaks each day. I’m kind of horrified that he knows what being extra means. And that he’s applied being extra to me, specifically. Nothing good can come of that. Especially when I’ve been on my best behavior the last few months.
Which is why I asked the stylist at the earlier magazine shoot I’m coming from to give me a smoky-eye look for evening, after we bonded over our favorite makeup. She tousled my medium-length, light reddish-brown—blond if you’re generous during the summer—hair with product. Plus, a touch of contouring never hurt anyone. Use those cheekbones for the good of the kingdom, she told me, because it’s your royal duty to the people.
Author Bio:
More animal than mineral, Hayden Stone is a writer of fun queer fiction, especially with kissing. He currently lives in Victoria, Canada, and has previously lived in Vancouver, Canada and London, UK. He likes strong coffee and is owned by two cats. You can find out his latest news on Twitter or Instagram, or at his website: haydenstonebooks.com
Humans and vamps were never meant to be mates, but an accidental meeting changes everything.
Cam Sharpe is just trying to make ends meet. Living in the city can easily break the bank, but that’s where the jobs are. It’s also where crime runs rampant. One night, he finds himself in the wrong place at the wrong time, putting him in the crosshairs of the city’s ruling vampire coven.
Nikolai Hart loves his job — maybe a little too much. When hunting a rogue proves to be a pain in the ass, he’s the one House Saridan brings in to find the unfortunate soul. The latest job, however, has hit a snag: a mortal has witnessed everything.
I hated living in the city. There were too many people, most of whom couldn’t drive worth a damn. I barely managed to dodge a car that threatened to sideswipe me. I thought the asshole driver shouted something, but I just tossed the man a one-fingered salute. Rain pelted the city, which made deliveries a bit more complicated, especially on a bicycle. Still, the bike afforded me the chance to make it into tight spots a car could not. Traffic was a bitch, but that was city life. I’d been here for three years now and had managed to escape the need for a car. The exercise was good, at any rate.
I reached the towering apartment building and secured my bike to a lamppost. The expressionless doorman stood at the front. Dressed in a black tux, complete with white gloves, he fit right in with the building’s occupants.
Once inside, I flashed my badge hanging on its lanyard to the guard behind the desk and continued toward the elevators. A few well-dressed residents gave me a bit of the good ol’ side-eye, but I ignored them. Hell, I’d probably delivered dinner to them half a million times.
The elevator doors opened, and I held it for the others. When they didn’t move to enter, I shrugged and stepped inside, letting the doors close before they could change their haughty minds. I watched the display tick through the floor numbers until it reached the seventh floor. As soon as I exited, I heard music.
Down the hall, an apartment door opened, and a half-naked man waved. I met him and handed over the food.
“Wanna join?”
I laughed and shook my head. “Thanks, man, but I can’t. Still a few more hours before I can officially ‘clock out’ for the night.”
“You clock out?”
“Not really. I set my own hours, but this pays the bills, so, yeah, set times and all.”
“Ah.”
Shouts from inside cut the chat short. “Well, thanks!” the guy said, holding up the bag.
“No problem.”
Alone in the hall, I went back to the elevators. Thank the gods the tips were included in the app when ordering.
Back down on the street, I sighed. I wished I could stop for the night. I was tired, utterly sick of the damn rain, and hadn’t eaten in several hours. The sun had already set enough to make the streetlights come on along the sidewalks. I rolled the bike a few feet away from the lingering crowd and headed off to my next pick-up.
People swarmed the streets, most of them club hoppers. I’d done that years ago but had outgrown it. Random hook-ups in dark corners no longer satisfied me, but in a city this big, I wasn’t sure I’d ever find anyone who would. Most of the people I’d met so far were superficial and vain, perfectly content to spend a night getting laid by one person before moving on to the next.
An order came in, and the GPS piped up to let me know there was a shortcut to the restaurant. Happy to avoid the crowd, I turned down the alley the GPS designated. I ignored the few slumped figures along both sides. I’d learned the hard way a couple of years ago after a mugging not to carry cash. Now I only carried my ID, keys, phone, and a trusty can of mace.
The end of the alley branched left and right. The GPS told me to go left. Just as I started that way, commotion to the right startled me.
A tall, black-clad figure landed feet-first onto the wet pavement and grabbed a man from the ground. The man choked and struggled as the stranger spoke, voice low enough that I couldn’t hear what was said. Whatever it was, though, seemed to terrify the man he held captive.
The stranger growled — literally growled — and tore the man’s throat wide open with his fucking teeth.
I nearly wrecked the bike trying to get away. I pedaled as fast as my legs could, and the burn was almost too much. I reached the Chinese restaurant and stuck as close to the building as possible. After a few seconds of struggling to catch my breath, I locked my bike to a lamppost before heading inside.
I had zero doubt that I’d just seen a vampire executing someone. Vamps weren’t unknown, but they tended to keep to themselves. They also weren’t anything like what stories and movies portrayed them to be. Real vampires weren’t undead; they were an entirely different species. Stronger, faster, and far more deadly than any human could ever dream of being.
Safe in the restaurant, I shot a quick glance back out the door. Whatever I’d just witnessed wasn’t my business. Not like cops would do shit anyway. Vamps governed themselves, and the police were scared shitless of them.
Pushing it out of my mind for now, I shuddered and headed to the counter. Ten minutes later, I was on my way to the drop-off point. Despite needing the money, I ended my shift after handing over the food. Just before I left the area, though, I caught sight of the stranger from the alley. Those eyes locked onto mine.
Hopping onto the bike, I made a beeline for my tiny efficiency apartment. It wasn’t much, but it had a wonderfully huge deadbolt on the door.
I leaned back against the door as soon as I locked it. Eyes closed, I tried to get rid of the images from the alley. It wasn’t the first crime I’d seen in this damned city, but it was definitely the first time a vampire had been involved. At least that I knew of, at any rate.
“Get a grip, Cam,” I muttered. “Not the first, won’t be the last.”
I pushed off the door and tossed my keys onto the narrow bar separating the kitchenette from the living area. I couldn’t even call it an actual room, really. The only true room was the bathroom, and even that was about the size of a small walk-in closet. Overall, the place wasn’t much, but it was home and, to be honest, all I could afford.
Before I could contemplate dinner or a shower, my grumbling stomach made up its own mind. A quick glance in the fridge, and then the freezer, reminded me that I needed to hit the store down the block sooner rather than later. I didn’t cook, despite knowing how to, since it was just me here. Most of my meals tended to be sandwiches or frozen dinners, or, if money allowed, something quick while I was working. Tonight, though, peanut butter and jelly would have to do.
A few minutes later, I settled onto the futon that doubled as my bed and watched the news on my only splurge: a smart TV. I nibbled on my meager dinner as one report after another went on. I popped the last bite into my mouth, only to nearly choke on it.
The same dark-clad figure I’d seen in the alley was positioned behind one of the head vamps in the city during a news conference that, according to the info at the bottom of the screen, occurred earlier today. The muscle-bound watchdog stood ready to spring to action at the slightest hint of trouble.
Pitch black hair hung over broad shoulders, and the man’s five-o’clock shadow covered a stern, tight jawline. Eyes that looked almost as black as his hair seemed to scan the entire room. Though he kept his hands behind him, I could imagine those strong arms tensing. And he was tall. Jesus, he was fucking tall. Even more than the vampire in front of him. A morbid desire to stare up into those insanely dark eyes swept through me.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts. Vamps are fucking trouble.”
I changed the channel and found a nature documentary instead. Maybe watching meerkats would cleanse my brain of insane ideas like wanting to unwrap all those muscles.
Mychael Black has been writing professionally since 2005. He writes gay romance and erotica, but also het romance as Carys Seraphine and queer fantasy as Katherine Cook.
He’s an avid PC gamer with a love for RPGs, a horror fanatic, and a fantasy nut. He also has a weakness for anything relating to skulls, dogs, and Spongebob Squarepants.
Mychael lives on the Eastern Shore of the US with his family. He loves to hear from readers, be it via email or Facebook.
Little Did We Know Cara Dee (The Mclean Tales, #1) Publication date: July 11th 2025 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, LGBTQ+, Romance
The Mclean Tales #1 • BDSM • Friendship • Found Family • Humor • Origin Story
At Mclean House, everyone knows about the eight founding members. If you need help with anything in the community, you send them a message or approach them at the house. Lucas is the kind Daddy Dom with patience for days, Macklin the funny switch who sure knows how to switch sides as well, and Greer is the primal Master with a huge heart and a devil on his shoulder. Colt has that devil on his shoulder too, actually. Lucian, another Master, is into high protocol and creative punishments. Penelope loves to host events and runs a tight ship. Last but definitely not least, the men who came up with the idea to start a community. River and Reese are the scary, sadistic twin brothers—until you get to know them and see the sweethearts under the ink, of course.
The eight founders find their happily ever afters in the Game Series, but this book isn’t about that. It’s about what happened before. The story very few know so far. How they met, how they became friends, and how they started exploring together.
So let’s go back to the beginning. It’s a cold night in Baltimore, and Lucas is about to catch the scowl of someone at an event where he feels completely out of place.
Author’s note: Are you new to the Game Series? This is the perfect book to jump right in and get to know the main characters.
Disclaimer: No fighter pilots or Marines were injured by each other’s insults in the making of this book, River apologizes in advance if he offended any vampires or people from Chicago, and Lucian solemnly swears that his cleaning service didn’t find anything embarrassing at his place after the night they all remember, except possibly something that belongs to Greer.
Disclaimer two: Sorry for lying. River isn’t apologizing for anything.
Reese’s smile widened. “Even better. A Dom who needs to get fucked? Do you struggle with that bit?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Only if the other guy—or guys—think they can boss me around. And for the record, Doms can be bottoms too.”
He chuckled and leaned back in his seat. “I know.” He lifted his gaze to something behind me—or someone, rather—and it was River returning with two bottles of beer. Reese scooted farther in, and River sat down next to him. “Lucas West here is a Dom who occasionally needs to get fucked like a savage.”
For chrissakes!
“Really.” River hitched his brows at me and took a swig of his beer. “Does he beg?”
Okay, that one got me. Annoyance tore through me, and I instantly considered calling it a night. I could still drive after two beers, and I hadn’t finished this one anyway. My plan had been to nurse it for a while. My actual plan—and the whole reason I’d chosen to drive—was because I’d thought I’d be in Baltimore.
“He fucking does not,” I stated. “He’s not that interested either.”
*
“Hey, gorgeous. Did you get your asshole prettied up for us?”
I stopped short, and it felt like he’d dumped a bucket of cold water over me. Water or embarrassment. Or defiance—or anger!
Who the fuck was this guy?!
I made eye contact with River. “Is he always like this?”
He shrugged a little and took a swig of whatever drink he’d mixed. “More or less. It’s how he digs for information. It ain’t subtle, but it’s effective.”
Information about what? And how exactly? Through shock value?
“If there’s information you want about me, you could start a conversation and ask,” I pointed out. “It’s how normal people get to know each other.”
River chuckled quietly. “Not sure we know what’s normal.”
“Fuck normal,” Reese said bluntly.
Author Bio:
Romance Across the Spectrum.
I’m often awkwardly silent or, if the topic interests me, a chronic rambler. In other words, I can discuss writing forever and ever. Fiction, in particular. The love story—while a huge draw and constantly present—is secondary for me, because there’s so much more to writing romance fiction than just making two (or more) people fall in love and have hot sex.
There’s a world to build, characters to develop, interests to create, and a topic or two to research thoroughly.
Every book is a challenge for me, an opportunity to learn something new, and a puzzle to piece together. I want my characters to come to life, and the only way I know to do that is to give them substance—passions, history, goals, quirks, and strong opinions—and to let them evolve.
I want my men and women to be relatable. That means allowing room for everyday problems and, for lack of a better word, flaws. My characters will never be perfect.
Wait…this was supposed to be about me, not my writing.
I’m a writey person who loves to write. Always wanderlusting, twitterpating, kinking, cooking, baking, and geeking. There’s time for hockey and family, too. But mostly, I just love to write.
