RELEASE BLITZ: An Echo of Gods by Tallie Rose #LGBTQ #Fantasy @GoindiMarketing @ninestarpress

Title: An Echo of Gods

Series: Briar Constance, Book Two

Author: Tallie Rose

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 03/07/2023

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 87200

Genre: Fantasy, Fantasy, family-drama, gods, blood magic, lesbian, bisexual, nonbinary, witches, fae, murder, death, prime minister

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Description

The Gods are back.

Briar knew it wouldn’t be easy dealing with Eliana, but she thought the other Gods might help her. This is their problem, after all. But they don’t want to answer her call, and when they do, it’s always the same answer—blood, sacrifice, loss. All the things Briar doesn’t want to hear.

Still, with Bastianna and her group of Believers breathing down her neck, Briar has to figure out some way to banish the errant Goddess. She just hopes she can do it without losing everyone she loves.

Excerpt

An Echo of Gods
Tallie Rose © 2023
All Rights Reserved

Sunlight caught on the handle of Briar’s drugstore dagger, casting her room in hues of pink and silver, like a grotesque disco ball. She’d had the knife for years, an impulse purchase at the register. It was cheap, its handle made of resin mixed with glitter and delicate flowers, hardly the right choice to call on another God, but using a kitchen knife seemed even worse.

She sighed—and nearly choked on the heady fumes wafting from the marble bowl beside her. Soren had handed her the satchel the day before, saying he picked up the herbs from some overseas religious order and they would help clear her mind. Ten minutes in and Briar was pretty sure she was just burning drugs.

Fingers close to trembling, she picked up the knife and pressed the blade into the crook of her arm until it bit into her skin. Blood pooled and dripped, sizzling against the smoldering herbs. Words, ancient and harsh, spilled from Briar’s mouth and her body tensed. The dagger tumbled from her fingers and clattered against the floor.

She closed her eyes against the smoke, continuing to chant. Her power built until it was pressing on every inch of her skin, demanding to leave. She did not need to open her eyes to know she was glowing once again.

Now, she just needed someone to listen, to give her direction. The Gods had not answered their pleas in the weeks since the attack. They were lost, stuck watching the news every night, unable to help.

“Please,” she murmured into the empty space of her room.

The blood dripping down her arm ceased flowing and her skin stitched itself together. The air in the room grew brisk and an unfamiliar scent hit her nose. Mulled apples, fresh tilled earth, evergreen, and sandy beaches. Somehow it was not unpleasant. She opened her eyes.

The Deity was a vision of the highest order. Buds bloomed in the air around them, swirling and protecting them from Briar’s full gaze. The scene changed: autumn leaves, then summer rains that turned to snow and ice.

Briar’s green eyes locked on to those of molten silver. Their face was a work of art, golden skin, full sensual lips, and high cheekbones. All of it was crowned by flowing coppery-red hair. They smiled and Briar’s gaze dropped. The robe they wore was sheer, doing nothing to hide the swell of their chest or the strength of their arms.

The Deity opened their arms wide, a welcoming gesture, and Briar cleared her throat, feeling anything but pious.

Their nostrils flared and their eyes widened ever so slightly. The falling leaves turned green, and they chuckled and dropped their arms, one hand resting on a hip Briar had just been admiring. “Bold.”

Briar shrugged.

The Deity laughed again, and the buds of roses bloomed in their eyes. Their body changed, hair shortening, legs lengthening, but they didn’t seem to notice. “You requested an audience?”

Blinking to clear the haze from her mind, Briar nodded, enchanted by the beauty before her. “What’s your name?”

“Oh.” Their eyes flicked toward the ceiling as if it was a question they had to think about. “I haven’t spoken to a human in so long. Nilaja. Do you mind?”

Briar had no idea what they were asking but nodded. She’d give almost anything to them if they would help her find something she could use to send Eliana back to their realm, or even better, end her entirely.

With each passing day Eliana’s death seemed a better option. Tensions had grown between witches and fae; fights were breaking out, shootings and murders. The sudden uptick in violence had not gone unnoticed by the general population but no one knew what was causing it. And if anyone had suspicions they only whispered them, the footage of the dead Beishan president too raw in everyone’s minds.

Nilaja dipped a finger into the bowl of herbs and stepped out of the mist as though it was nothing, leaving behind the changing of seasons that had engulfed them. Briar’s breath caught in her chest, and the freshly healed cut on her arm twinged.

The experience of talking to the Gods was something she would never get enough of. Her life had been spent searching for them, and now she had the truth. But could she tempt one to help her? She hoped this God in particular would be the answer she was spending all her days searching for.

As though it was ordinary, Nilaja sat on the ground across from Briar, pulling their legs beside them, their robes fanned out around their body. They waved a hand over the marble bowl and the smoke disappeared. “That is quite vile and wholly unnecessary. It is blood the universe calls for, no drugs required.”

“I’m friends with idiots but I try to indulge them.”

Nilaja chuckled again, the sound like the crackle after lightning. They pressed their hands against the floor, eyes shuddering shut. Briar didn’t know what to feel looking at them. They were the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, and power radiated off them. She knew she should be afraid but she was intrigued by them, by how casually they interacted with her.

Power danced in Nilaja’s eyes as they slowly opened them, burning silver like flashes of lightning. “So, Briar Constance, why am I here?”

“We need help with Eliana.”

Nilaja tilted their head and coppery leaves fell from their hair, disappearing when they touched the ground. “You have already spoken to Ivian. You know how she was contained before.”

“There has to be another answer, something that doesn’t involve sacrifice. It’s barbaric. That’s not how the world is now.” She and Soren had gone over it so many times, they’d talked until their conversations were nearly scripted, but there had to be something else. The world, the universe, could not be so cruel.

“Oh, sweets.” Nilaja reached out and brushed their thumb across Briar’s exposed knee.

Her whole body went rigid, every nerve on fire with the power blasting through her. It was pure magic, sharp and hot and intoxicating. She swallowed to keep from crying out, from grabbing them and demanding more, more, more.

Unaware or unmoved by the struggle inside Briar, the Deity continued, “The universe does not care how far you have progressed. It will always be old, cold, and uncaring. You want to stop Eliana, you will do it as your ancestor Cordelia did, by blood and tears. Eliana is too far ingrained in this world for the echo of our powers still left in this place to pull her out. She is a horror, and you will become one if you wish to destroy her.”

Despair pooled in Briar’s stomach.

“Oh, don’t look like that.” Wilted flowers piled in their lap, their petals crumbling to dust. “Maybe there is another way. What would I know, tucked away for eternity? There is much knowledge out there, things you have not dreamed of. I will hope you find another answer, but it is not one I know. We have no knowledge that we are hiding from you.” They stood and the air seemed to go with them.

Briar stood as well, the reverberation of their shattering power still clanging through her. She had so many questions she wanted to ask them. Could all Gods change their form? Did they watch the humans? And was there please, please, another answer? “Can I summon you again?”

Nilaja paused, a feline grin pulling their lips upward. “Why?” They took a step closer, and Briar’s body urged her both to move forward and to run, far, far away from the Deity she had summoned, one whose name she had never heard.

Struggling for words, Briar gave in to her desire, her head still swimming with whatever Soren had given her. Her body ached with each movement, spent from the power but craving more. She stopped a breath away from them. “I don’t know.”

Nilaja pulled at the bottom of one of Briar’s curls. “Well, isn’t that fun. See you soon.” They winked and were gone.

Briar fell backward onto her bed. What in Ortus’s fiery hell had just happened?

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Tallie Rose lives in Charleston, SC with two kids, five cats, two goldfish, and one dog. She spends her spare time thrifting, watching bad TV, and reading books.

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BOOK BLITZ: Dead and Buried by Annie Anderson #Paranormal #UrbanFantasy @XpressoTours @annieande

Dead and Buried
Annie Anderson
(Grave Talker, #7)
Publication date: February 28th 2023
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Urban Fantasy

Darby Adler is done.

Done with the Council. Done with ancient evils popping up every five seconds. And especially done with her ex-boyfriend, Bishop. On the hunt for the slippery mage, she has teamed up with an unlikely ally in a Prince of Hell. The same prince that invades her thoughts, her space, and maybe her heart.

But when the dreaded ex starts targeting those closest to Darby, all deals–demon or otherwise–are off.

Darby’s going to bury Bishop La Roux… one way or another.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

I should have taken the trip to the Underworld.

That thought had plagued me since I agreed to this damn adventure. Mainly because I was not a good flyer.

There were too many people in the airport and what if you didn’t get there in time and what if they searched your luggage and decided to confiscate everything. There were far too many variables when it came to air travel, and I was in charge of none of them.

Not. A. Fan.

But when we arrived at the airport, it was not on the super commercial side. When the smoke from Aemon’s power faded, we were outside a giant hangar with a few people milling about like little worker bees. An airplane sat just off the tarmac with a red carpet leading to the boarding stairs.

“Umm…” I said nervously, staring at a suit-clad flight attendant who just seemed to notice us standing there.

I had never flown private in my life, but it seemed that streak was about to end.

“Did you honestly think I was going to make you fly commercial?” Aemon scoffed, shaking his head as he pulled his hands away from my hips. “After the Orlando trip? Never.”

He was referring to my senior trip when my plane nearly went down after an electrical disturbance. I hadn’t flown since, and I was pretty sure I would need pharmaceuticals to do it this time. But there was only one way Aemon knew about my flying trauma because Jay and I refused to talk about it ever.

It was the same reason he knew every other corner of my brain. Because he had seen it in my memories when he invaded my mind during his possession.

“What are the odds that flight attendant has Xanax in his pocket?” I asked, choosing to ignore the reminder of Aemon’s possession completely.

He seemed to consider my question as he ushered us forward. “I’d say pretty good, but I wouldn’t take them. He’d likely confuse them for the Molly in his other pocket and then you’d really be in trouble.

My feet nearly stuttered to a stop as my tongue felt heavy in my mouth and a sweat broke out all over my skin. I did not want to get into that plane. Not at all.

“Come on, Flower. I’ll hold your hand the whole time.”

Now I was hot, but it was due to anger rather than anything else. “I’m not a child. I don’t need you to hold anything for me.”

Choking down my fear, I marched to the plane, handed off my suitcase, and made it up the steps before the fear took root again.

“You can sit anywhere. Would you like something to drink?” The attendant was my height with a shock of ginger hair and a jaw you could sharpen blades on.

The hum of the engine started, and it took everything in me not to climb out of my skin, holding onto the chaos magic like it was my job. I chose a seat and waved him off.

“I’m fine.” I was not fine, but I would grit my teeth and make it so. Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back to the cushion.

Eight hours. Just eight tiny hours and you will be there. You’ll get answers. This is fine.

“You’re such a little liar,” Aemon whispered in my ear, his approach completely undetected.

I cracked an eyelid, cutting my gaze to him with a glare that should have roasted him on the spot.

“You couldn’t be less fine if you tried. Now, I can help calm you down, or you can sit there and pray you don’t blow this plane up mid-flight. Your choice, Flower.”

Aemon had a habit of making me sleep when I needed it. There had been a few instances where I had gone days without even so much as a wink of it until he took the decision out of my hands.

Him actually asking this time was new.

“I could have sworn I had a name, and it wasn’t anything even remotely resembling ‘Flower’ or anything close to it.”

Aemon’s petulant sigh practically rattled my bones. “Ms. Darby Adler, will you pretty please with sugar on top hold my hand so I may calm you down on this very treacherous flight over an ocean of salt that will surely kill me dead should you explode this plane and dunk me in it?”

That had my breath hitching in my chest as acid churned in my gut. Exploding this plane had been a real concern, but now? Now I was holding onto the armrests for dear life, and we hadn’t left the tarmac yet.

Aemon’s face got right in mine so all I could see were those pretty blue eyes and too-full lips.

“You’d better answer me, Flower, or I’ll have to think of other ways to distract you.”

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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RELEASE BLITZ: Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson: Ten Steps from Baker Street by Thomas A. Burns, Jr #Mystery @RABTBookTours @3Mdetective

Mystery

Date Published: 03-01-2023

Publisher: Tekrighter, LLC

 

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Return to the streets and alleys of Victorian London, where the game is
afoot once again! The Great Detective, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and his
steadfast companion Dr. Watson are back for ten new cases, spanning the
length of the quintessential detective’s illustrious career. Beginning while
Holmes was still a green investigator in Montague Street, this collection
encompasses the 1880s and the 1890s, up to the dawn of the new
century.  Walk with Holmes as he puzzles over the problem of a drunken
teetotaler, celebrates an old English Christmas at the Red Lion, tracks down
the Camberwell poisoner, and experiences the horror in King Street. If
you’ve been pining for new traditional, canonical Sherlock Holmes tales, Ten
Steps from Baker Street is the collection you’ve been waiting for.

 

About the Author

Thomas A. Burns, Jr. is the author of the Natalie McMasters Mysteries. He
was born and grew up in New Jersey, attended Xavier High School in
Manhattan, earned B.S degrees in Zoology and Microbiology at Michigan State
University and a M.S. in Microbiology at North Carolina State University. He
currently resides in Wendell, North Carolina with his wife and son, four
cats and a Cardigan Welsh Corgi. As a kid, Tom started reading mysteries
with the Hardy Boys, Ken Holt and Rick Brant, and graduated to the classic
stories by authors such as A. Conan Doyle, Dorothy Sayers, John Dickson
Carr, Erle Stanley Gardner and Rex Stout, to name a few. Tom has written
fiction as a hobby all of his life, starting with Man from U.N.C.L.E.
stories in marble-backed copybooks in grade school. He built a career as
technical, science and medical writer and editor for nearly thirty years in
industry and government. Now that he’s retired to become a full-time a
novelist, he’s excited to publish his own mystery series, as well as to
contribute stories about his second-most favorite detective to the MX Book
of New Sherlock Holmes Stories.

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RELEASE BLITZ: A City of Hopes Unrealized by Howard Leonard #LGBTQ #friendstolovers #interracial @ninestarpress @GoIndiMarketing

Title: A City of Hopes Unrealized

Series: Seattle City Limits, Book One

Author: Howard Leonard

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 02/28/2023

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 57000

Genre: Contemporary, Bartender, Established Couple, Friends to Lovers, Humorous, Interracial, Over 40, Therapist, UST

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Description

After ending a relationship that began in an era before social media, Alan finds that good friends, a thriving medical practice, and an abundance of dates with a vast array of intriguing men in progressive Seattle aren’t enough to surmount the shortcomings of his own insight.

From endearing Justin to cultured Bradley, to his fantasy man, Marley, Alan frustrates his friends and therapist by being better at ambivalence than connection. The characters in A City of Hopes Unrealized represent people we all know and, although uncomfortable, may even remind us of ourselves as we try to navigate circumstances we would never choose and might never even envision.

Excerpt

A City of Hopes Unrealized
Howard Leonard © 2023
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
Green Plaid

If you’ve not yet picked up on it, I’m Alan. I feel like an Alan. Alan is not a very sexy name, but apparently an adequate one. Being single at fifty, I’m rounding down, I didn’t count on my sex appeal to win me a man. To my immense surprise, I was wrong. Who knew a balding, moderately hairy, average height, not too out of shape, older than middle-aged, Jewish professional man would be a “type”? I’m a type. And seemingly a popular one at that. I first hit my stride on this one particular Friday night. This is about my stride.

The story doesn’t begin where most of the plot picks up. It begins at the Boardroom, a man’s bar and dance hall with a hint of a backroom at the urinals. This is Seattle, a city of gay bars without backrooms. Nearing midnight on a Friday, the Boardroom exploded with men. Paying the inflated cover and walking in, I heard the thumping of my heart drowning out the thumping of the music, at least in my own ears. I ordered my standard rum and Coke, a process which took long enough to add to the mystique of the Boardroom by providing a sense of privilege for being able to hand over a ransom-worthy sum of money. Accompanied by fear, I made my way to the lower-level dance floor. Late enough to be packed, dancing meant moving up and down from one’s heels to one’s toes over and over, forcing me to try to not spill my overpriced drink, as the drink and I were being unavoidably knocked around by the beer-drinking crowd. This was a crowd where Friday meant ecstasy as assuredly as Monday would mean missing work to nurse a hangover.

I began my night by standing off to the side of the dance floor, feeling simultaneously unseen and conspicuous, fighting to dismiss that shy little boy from Massachusetts. The moment was one of those where a night pivots one way or another, in this case, toward the dance floor or toward the exit. I expected to be as surprised as anyone as to which way my pounding heart would direct my feet.

Then I saw him, Mr. Green Plaid. I’ll forever picture and fantasize about his shirt. His shirt had green-and-white checks with thin black lines that were illuminated when the disco laser hit him directly. The shirt must have cost him twice what it sold for when new. I imagined that Mr. Green Plaid had found this exact right outfit only hours before in one of Capitol Hill’s seriously overpriced men’s vintage clothing stores.

Green Plaid had the confidence to know his clothes would be the perfect calling card for his night out. His shirt, tucked into tight jeans, cemented in me a fetish that would forever drive my attraction to both the collegiate boy next door and the Wrangler Man. As soon as I saw him, I lost myself in a fantasy of Green Plaid as a twin, one the cute boy next door, and the other a hot Montana cowboy. Then, knocked out of my fantasy by a stumbling patron, I was jarred into an unplanned urgent decision which would soon tell me what direction my thumping heart and conflicted brain would carry my feet.

I did not head for the exit. I continued watching Mr. Green Plaid for several minutes, long enough to hurriedly and self-consciously guzzle my drink. I made my way to the bar, in almost a panic-driven mode, afraid he’d disappear, but much more afraid to be there without a second rum and Coke.

The gamble proved worth it. I got another drink and miraculously found that my previous spot on the side of the dance floor had reopened. Even better, Mr. Green Plaid had left the dance floor and coincidentally stood close by and was himself focused on the dance floor. Over the next twenty minutes, I concocted his life story in my head. More importantly, the man he had been dancing with, and now stood at his side, and with whom he shared an occasional word, likely drowned out by the music, was clearly not Mr. GP’s boyfriend. Their disconnect suggested that this man might be Mr. Green Plaid’s backup plan for the night. In my head, I was certain that GP must be single, at the Boardroom alone, and a bit short on courage, which caused him to stand beside his plan B to avoid the risk of approaching any man who might carry that plan A mystique.

My second drink now history, I surreptitiously moved closer to him with alcohol enhanced chutzpah and self-consciousness. Before my feet were firmly planted, the crowd pushed a man into me, which pushed me into Mr. GP’s left shoulder. We bumped, thanks to my compromised balance. What luck! GP glanced over and didn’t exactly smile, but he also didn’t dismiss me. I knew I had but a few seconds to commit myself to saying something, or the awkwardness would become overwhelming and an embarrassing admission of my inadequacy. So without having the time to indulge my anxieties further, I touched his left shoulder with my right hand. When he leaned in, I asked him to dance. Green Plaid answered by grabbing my right hand, and he led me onto the dance floor.

I fell in love! Mr. Green Plaid hadn’t rejected me. In fact, Mr. GP danced with me without even looking over my shoulder for someone better. Maybe I had become his new plan B, as there would be no convincing me I’d be anyone’s plan A. Yet even as plan B, this was the first moment I considered I might just be a type someone could perhaps possibly desire. At that moment I felt desired.

I’d like to tell you what happened after we left the dance floor, but there’s not much to tell. Even though my latest love and I hardly spoke given the loud music had destroyed any possibility of being heard, his expression reinforced my new beginning. My journey suddenly moved into second gear, and I had a first taste of confidence in my not yet fully drunken state. Shockingly, I might actually have the power to navigate the new and up-to-now terrifying terrain of dating. Perhaps dating could even be fun. I found myself walking home with an unfamiliar and unpracticed resolve, even though I walked home alone. I had a good evening and a new fetish. I had hope.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Howard Leonard earned his PhD in Clinical Psychology in 1981. Dr. Leonard and his partner moved to Seattle, Washington, in 1983, where he began a private practice which he maintained for thirty-five years. He chose Seattle in part due to his belief the region would allow two men to legally create a family through the use of surrogacy, something largely unchallenged by gay men in the eighties. He has two daughters, now adults, and one grandchild. Howard and his husband, Robert, live in Palm Springs, California. Writing has become an important part of his life since retiring from clinical practice. A City of Hopes Unrealized is the first novel in the “Seattle City Limits” series. Find Howard on Facebook.

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BOOK BLITZ: Burning for the Truth by A.B. Medley #ContemporaryRomance #Suspense @XpressoTours @ab_medley

Burning for the Truth
A.B. Medley
(Finding the Truth Series, #3)
Publication date: February 28th 2023
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense

Once the fire starts, no one is safe until the smoke clears.

He’s the one who broke her heart first, the one she can’t let go, and still always saves her when it seems all hope is lost.

He’s also her brother’s best friend and way off limits.

***

She’s the one he dreams about, the one he’s always drawn to, but the one he keeps at arm’s length..

She was meant to walk away—he made sure of it—but he can’t stop holding onto her.

Even though she’s the one woman he can never have.

***

Dean and Briella think their feelings are under control—all they’ll ever be is friends—until tragedy strikes, followed by a string of mysterious fires targeting the hearts of Greendale Valley’s police and firefighters. The aftermath pushes them apart completely, only to drive them back together as they risk burning everything down in search of justice.

Will the flame between them continue to burn, or will uncovering the truth leave nothing but ashes?

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

The ride to my apartment is silent. When we get back, I keep quiet as I get ready for bed.

“Is everything okay?” he finally asks.

“Fine. Why wouldn’t it be?” I clip frostily.

“I don’t know, maybe because you’ve been acting like a spoiled brat since we left the diner.”

I stop what I’m doing and face him with my jaw clenched. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Bree. You’re mad because she talked to me. Admit it.”

“I’m not mad. What you do and who you do it with is none of my business,” I reply coolly even though he’s right. I don’t want to think of him with anyone else even though I have no right to those feelings.

He steps closer, almost nose to nose. “You’re lying.” He searches my face for a crack in my armor.

I step closer so there’s no space between us. “I don’t tell lies. It sounds like you made your move with her and I’m happy for you.”

He scoffs and laughs humorlessly. “I was on duty and checked her detectors, one of the other guys was with me. We were in and out in a matter of about fifteen minutes. This dinner she keeps wanting to have with me is her idea, not mine.”

“So go. You might have fun. You might even be able to give your heart to her and be happy. You won’t know until you try. What do you have to lose?” My chest is aching as I say the words. I don’t mean them. I want him to be happy, but not with her.

“You.” He slides his hand into my hair at the base of my neck; his stormy gaze blazing with fury and passion. “I stand to lose you. Chelsea’s nice, but she’s not you. I can’t give my heart to her or anyone else. You have it. You took it a long time ago.” His breath fans my face as his lips lightly brush against mine.

He brings both hands to either side of my face as I lean into him for an instant, my body and my heart responding in every way, until I think about all the ways this can go wrong. “No. You don’t mean that. And even if you did, we can’t.” I take a step back with my hand placed firmly on his chest as if it will keep him from coming closer.

“The hell I don’t. But if you don’t want me, then I’ll back off.” He takes a few steps back as if demonstrating what he means.

My heart squeezes painfully. “It’s not that I don’t want you. This isn’t only about me and you. If we take a chance and we fall instead of fly, we risk hurting other people too,” I admit honestly.

He comes closer and pulls me into his arms. “We won’t fall. I won’t let go. We can do this if we’re in it together. Hold on to me, Briella. Don’t let go.”

His lips crash down on mine as he pushes me toward my bed, and I know with certainty I’ll do exactly as he says. I won’t let him go. I don’t think I ever truly did.

Author Bio:

A.B. Medley lives in Tennessee with the love of her life and two sons. Her husband stole her heart when she was sixteen and their relationship is one of those meant to be love stories you find in magazines and novels.

She is a dental hygienist who loves to read and has always dabbled in writing. When she’s not making people’s smiles shine, she enjoys belting out songs with her boys, dancing, raspberries, baseball, and anything vintage. Like any proper Tennessean, Sundrop is her drink of choice.

She loves her family and friends fiercely and believes in always chasing your dreams.

Deception in the Truth is her debut novel—but now she’s hooked, and there’s more to come!

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RELEASE BLITZ: Matt Miller in the Colonies by Mark J. Roser #LiteraryFiction @RABTBookTours @Matt_in_1760s

Book Four: Architect

 

General and Literary Fiction

Date Published: February 28, 2023

Publisher: The Skydenn Looking Glass

 

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Twenty-first-century scientist Matt Miller has become a wealthy businessman
and politician with a beautiful wife and family. Yet, despite his every
effort, Matt’s world is crumbling around him. Grace has recovered from
her physical injuries, but her mental scars deepen as the threat to her
family remains and her brother’s trial looms on the horizon. The
Millers find themselves at the center of a maelstrom that threatens to
engulf the entire colony of Virginia and make it the epicenter for a
revolution. As the events around Matt unfold and his situation worsens, an
opportunity presents itself to right the wrongs he has caused, but only if
Matt can leave his life in the colonies behind.

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RELEASE BLITZ: The Oathtaker Borken by J.B. Knowles #Fantasy #Lesbian @pridepublishing @firstforromance

Broken by J.B. Knowles

Book 1 in the Oathtaker series

Word Count: 57,681
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 221

GENRES:

FANTASY
GLBTQI
LESBIAN
ROMANCE

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Book Description


After countless battles as an Oathtaker, Katya is about to face her hardest fight—one for her mind and soul.

Katya Greenleaf has given herself over to the thrill of combat countless times during her years as an Oathtaker. Alongside her mentor Shira, she has sought out evil—pirates, slavers, dark mages and demon hordes. Occasionally, she finds comfort in the company of other females she encounters in her travels, and despite her mother’s best efforts, she has no desire to settle for a traditional elven life and family.

After decades of taking joy from the fight, no matter the odds, Katya leads a group of Oathtakers into a disastrous battle, one which costs the lives of everyone around her, including Shira. Katya survives, but with neither body nor spirit intact, haunted by her life of violence and death in the name of her Oath.

Now, the red-haired warrior will find her greatest challenge in a battle against a different sort of demon—ones that live in her mind and haunt her sleep.

As she heals, Katya is reminded that there is more to life than blood and iron by a compelling human named Lili, who not only catches Katya’s interest, but forces her to re-think her life and her mission.

With Lili at her side, her beloved falcon Fayne on her shoulder and healers encouraging her, Katya sets out to re-discover the warrior she once was and finally confront the truths of what happened the day the world collapsed around her.

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence and the death of a minor character.

Excerpt

The swamp went against everything Katya had ever learned about choosing a battlefield.

She stood in freezing knee-high water surrounded by small islands of reed-covered sand. Thick mist hung in the air, limiting her vision and rendering her favoured weapon, a crossbow, useless.

The fog was freezing and damp, and despite the enchantments on the leather armour she wore, a chill was creeping into her bones. In that, Katya wasn’t alone. The other members of her party were also complaining about the wet and frosty surroundings.

The swirling mist made sounds duller and flatter, but with her better-than-human hearing, Katya could hear the clicks and whistles that made up the language of the lizard men that were closing in on them. They were savage and bloodthirsty creatures, given to torture and enslaving defeated enemies, fighting to the last with massive clubs of wood and jagged stone axes.

Today it was Katya’s job to lead the fight against this party of lizard men, sending a message from local merchants and crafters’ guilds that it was time the lizards put a halt to their destruction of trade missions and killing of travelling merchants passing through the area, and that their immediate departure from the swamp would be appreciated.

The responsibility weighed on Katya, despite her eagerness to mix it up, and because of this, she was not happy with what was going to be a horrible place for a stand-up fight.

Still, neither weather nor terrain mattered to Katya. Oathtakers didn’t just head into battle when the skies were sunny and pleasant. Dead enemies were dead no matter where their bodies ended up.

The mist beside her parted and Shira appeared, his beard caked with frost. Katya knew her own long hair looked the same, even though she wore it tied back. Function over form was the warrior’s way.

The old ranger gestured with his chin towards the swamp.

“Ugly spot.”

“I’ve seen worse. That garbage pit on the coast? Blah.”

Shira laughed. “I’ll never forget that smell. Nor the rats.”

Katya suppressed the shudder that rolled up her back. Gods, the rats, she remembered. Vile and voracious monsters that had wiped out all the wild animals in a huge area around the garbage dump. When they had moved on to livestock, the farmers in the area were desperate for help. The Oathtakers had answered the call.

The rats had been the same size as large dogs, with yellow eyes and even yellower teeth—one of them had bitten straight through a party member’s leather gauntlet. When all was said and done, everyone in the fray had ended up with scratches and bites from the filthy beasts that needed to be well-cleaned before infection set in.

Their foul bloodstains never had come off Katya’s armour completely, no matter how often she scrubbed them.

“I think the lizards will give them a run for their money today.”

Shira’s face took on the more serious look that Katya was accustomed to—his war-face. “They may, aye. What did our friend in the sky say?”

Katya looked up, straining to see. “I haven’t talked to her yet. Do you want me to call her in?”

“May as well. She’ll have seen all she can by now. No sense in letting her freeze.”

Katya nodded. She pursed her lips and whistled, making an odd yet pleasant musical sound, then waited.

In a few seconds, a dark shadow, one of Katya’s most valuable weapons and allies, plummeted out of the misty sky.

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About the Author

J.B. Knowles

J.B. Knowles has been a lifelong lover of works of fantasy, first creating Katya and the Greenleaf family in high school as roleplaying characters.

After a long career in the fields of justice and mental health, J.B. finally had a chance to build a full world on paper for Katya and to breathe new life into adventures started over thirty years ago.

J.B. is married and has two sons and three dogs who all share an stately old farmhouse in a quiet corner of Canada.

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RELEASE BLITZ: Haint Off the Chain by J. Hali Steele #erotica #LGBTQ #giveaway @GoIndiMarketing @jhalisteele

Title: Haint Off the Chain

Series: Haints Misbehaving 4

Author: J Hali Steele

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: February 24

Heat Level: 5 – Erotica

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 40 pages

Genre: Erotica, Dark Fantasy, Dark Desire, Gay, Magic Sorcery and Witchcraft

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Synopsis

Warning: This is a Razor’s Edge Monster Erotica Story. Expect limited plot and character development, and lots of paranormal heat. If you’re looking for a lengthy plot driven erotic romance, this is not@ it!

Web Webster’s plan to own the muscle car he’s a passenger in is sidetracked when the driver wrecks the vehicle. Needing a new ID, Web barely has time to inhabit the body beside him. Web’s savior manages the accident with authorities and offers to put Web up at his place. Lying in the man’s bed, Web has one thought. If he’s not gay — he will be for me!

Casper Wainright is known for his penchant for fast, shiny cars. When a classic beauty rams a tree on his property, he helps the occupant escape before extinguishing the flames. The stranger needs a place to convalesce. Something about the stranger entices Cas, who decides one room in his house has a bed that has been empty far too long. Little does Cas know what evil he’s invited into his life.

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Meet the Author

Growl and roar — it’s okay to let the beast out. — J. Hali Steele

J. Hali Steele wishes she could grow fur, wings, or fangs, so she can stay warm, fly, or just plain bite the crap out of… Well, she can’t do those things but she wishes she could!

J. Hali’s a multi-published Amazon bestselling author of Romance in Paranormal, Fantasy, and Contemporary worlds which include ReligErotica and LGBTQ stories where humans, vampyres, shapeshifters and angels collide — and they collide a lot! When J. Hali’s not writing or reading, she can be found snuggled in front of the TV with a cat in her lap, and a cup of coffee.

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RELEASE BLITZ: Rhyme of Longing by Emily Carrington #LGBTQ #PNR @CarringtonEmily @GoIndiMarketing

Title: Rhyme of Longing

Series: Jack and Gil #1

Author: Emikly Carrington

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: February 17, 2022

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 169 pages

Genre: Romance, Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, Suspense, Urban Fantasy, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures, Gay, Multicultural & Interracial, Shapeshifters

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Synopsis

Gilbert Sullivan hates his name, but refuses to go by Gil because of a rhyme he fears is a prophecy. When he meets Jack Sowerby, the new head of SearchLight, he’s terrified the rhyme will come true and he’ll lose his place as Crown Prince of the basilisks, but his attraction to Jack won’t let him stay away.

Jack, born human, is, above all things, practical. Still, when he meets Prince Gilbert, his need for the prince blossoms and he’s unable to resist — at least until he’s forcibly changed into a magical creature. He’s terrified of the new world he’s entering. When Gilbert tries to fight the rhyme, will their shattered relationship ever be restored?

Excerpt

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2023 Emily Carrington

Jack wanted so badly to be done with this night that he felt uncomfortable in his skin. That was not the proper way to begin thinking about his sixty-eighth birthday, his five-year anniversary as the head of SearchLight Academy. This was a party for both those things but no one said “no” to Agent Weinberg.

Not necessarily the most powerful magical being in the world, she was still the head of the entire organization. Even though she held the nominal title of “head of Public Relations,” SearchLight’s whole reason for existing was to protect the relationship between magical and nonmagical peoples. Which was, of course, officially, no relationship at all. SearchLight was a secret and must remain so.

The influence she held would make most magical creatures bow in submission. Jack, being merely human, was suitably impressed. And although as yet not cowed, he was too fond of his life to waste it needlessly. Not that Agent Weinberg had killed anyone. Recently.

Jack took a deep breath in through his nose as the limousine pulled up to the curb. He’d been commanded to take this limo and the implicit service of a driver, and although he hadn’t enjoyed it particularly, he was glad that he hadn’t needed to find a place to park in downtown Washington, DC. So, unsure if he was supposed to tip the driver but wanting to show his appreciation, he stepped around to the driver’s side after the car was parked at the curb and offered the person behind the wheel, whom, his telepathic sense, told him wasn’t human, ten dollars.

“Would you be trying to bribe me to take you home, Agent Sowerby?”

Jack saw the humor in the green eyes turned up to his and smiled. “Never in life,” he told the Irish-sounding sprite or Faery or leprechaun. Damn, sometimes he wished for a werewolf’s sense of smell so he’d know the magical creatures around him at once.

“You’re a good man, Agent Sowerby. Don’t let her bully you now.” And with that, he winked and rolled up his window. Jack stepped around the car to the sidewalk and watched the limo drive away.

“Hey there.” The voice was soft, lightly accented, and full of a syrupy, sarcastic undertone that put Jack’s hackles up. He turned more slowly than he could have, wanting to appear older and so less threatening. He gazed at the three people facing him and saw they were all armed.

He was aware of others watching from the doorway of the restaurant but knew they wouldn’t intercede unless it became obvious he couldn’t handle himself. That was one thing about Agent Weinberg he didn’t like much. She believed in the “sink or swim” philosophy.

The woman who’d spoken was smiling in a particularly condescending way. “Got a handout for me?” She twirled the knife in her right hand as she reached out with her left for the ten spot Jack still held.

Jack offered it, keeping a good distance from her, forcing her to step forward to take the bill. He was aware of the other two moving to flank him. He disliked using his telepathic sense against what he considered to be defenseless people, magical or mundane, and yet he wouldn’t risk his own life to preserve theirs. “I suggest you take this and be on your way,” he said softly, putting a slight psychic push into the words. He blanketed the area with his calming presence, lacking the ability to focus on more than two people at once. Both of the men who’d been flanking him stopped. One of them shook his head but the other was definitely under Jack’s control.

“Back off,” Jack said and watched the woman lower her knife a little.

She snatched at the bill and her knife hand flicked upward.

Jack dropped the ten spot and caught her wrist. The knife’s blade skidded across the waterproof material of his trench coat. He forced her to drop the knife as he said, “Go away.”

The man under his control turned and fled. But the other lunged at Jack. Yanking the woman close, Jack used her as a shield. The other man’s blade slid between her ribs. He swore, stumbling back, and lost his grip on his knife. As he turned to flee, Jack lowered the woman to the ground. He shouted, “Someone call nine-one-one.”

Someone joined him out on the sidewalk. It wasn’t Agent Weinberg. It wasn’t a SearchLight agent he knew. There was regal bearing in the other’s posture as he crouched beside Jack. “Let me heal her.”

Jack didn’t protest, although he did skate his telepathic sense outward to determine if this was a magical creature. The fact that he’d said “heal” rather than “help” argued for him not being human. He came into contact with an impenetrable psychic wall and winced as his telepathic sense bounced off. Well, there weren’t all that many humans who could resist even his most casual reach. Ergo, this was a magical creature.

Jack nodded and said, “Go ahead.” He retreated inside his own head and as he pulled out his cell phone, unwilling to trust to others to call for help, he watched the broad-shouldered male beside him spit into his hand and press the palm against the wound even as he pulled the knife free.

Dragon, Jack thought. Dragons could heal with their saliva or a blood exchange. But this wasn’t a dragon Jack knew.

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Meet the Author

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender erotica. Seeking a world made of equality, she created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires.

Fantasy creatures not your thing? Emily has also created a contemporary romance world, called Sticks and Stones, where she explores being “different” in a small town.

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RELEASE BLITZ: A Stop in Time by RC Boldt #RomanticSuspense #PNRLite #SupernaturalPowers @valentine_pr_

They say time waits for no one.
It waits for me.

A Stop in Time by RC Boldt is now live!

I’ve been an outcast my whole life. If my scars don’t scare people away, my attitude certainly will.
I don’t know what I am or how I got the power to stop time. What I do know is, there are far too many questions I need answers to.
When I cross paths with a local gang member, his presence unravels a part of my past I never knew existed.
At every turn, danger leaps closer, and I realize that stopping the killer will mean losing everything—including the first man I’ve ever loved.
But I should’ve known better. We were never meant to be anything more than a brief stop in time.

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Meet RC Boldt

RC Boldt is a USA Today bestselling author currently living in part of the Costa Rican jungle with the love of her life and her mini-me.

If you’re in the mood for some killer mojitos or can’t recall the lyrics to a particular 80s song, she’s your girl.

Connect with RC Boldt

Website: http://www.rcboldtbooks.com

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