To Hell and Back Bill Blume Publication date: January 20th 2026 Genres: Adult, Fantasy
For one pair of swordfighters, their marriage is worth going to Hell and back.
Ty and Dani are a modern-day, swordfighting husband-and-wife duo who help with exorcisms until a demon kills Dani’s mother and all of their fellow exorcists. Now, they’re on a quest for revenge through the realms of Hell, and killing the demon is just the start of the journey. To keep the demon from reviving, Dani and Ty must escape Hell within seven days and cast the demon’s head and heart into an Eternal Flame. To get back to the mortal realm in time, they rely on their small terrier Wicket to lead them past the demon’s army and thousands of other horrors.
To Hell and Back takes readers on an epic journey perfect for those who believe love can overcome any challenge and that a devoted dog makes the perfect guide no matter where you need to go.
They didn’t drive far, parking on a cobblestone street next to the café, sitting on a street corner. The entire front wall of the café was made up of tall doors that were all turned open to take advantage of the pleasant spring weather. Ty sucked down his coffee. It tasted stronger than what he preferred, but as tired as he was, he considered that a good thing.
“I imagine you have a lot of questions.” Maria sat at one of the tables closest to the sidewalk with people dressed in business suits and hospital scrubs walking by. She crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair, draping her arm over the back of it.
“I’m told you work for the church?” He decided against gambling on whether it was the Catholic or Episcopal Church.
“Heard that, did you?” She cracked an amused grin, as if she’d been privy to his conversation with Barry. “That’s only partially true. We’re funded by the Church of England, but we don’t answer to them.”
Taking a chug of his coffee, Ty then asked, “And who is we?”
“A fair question, and I’ll get to that soon enough.” She paused for her own sip of coffee. When she continued, she stared out at the street as cars rumbled across the cobblestones. “I’d like to talk about you a bit first. I notice you’ve started the transition.”
“The what?”
“Oh, you’re trying to find a way to make a living off that sword arm of yours that doesn’t require a nine-to-five job typing on a keyboard or some other nonsense. You’re going the usual route: giving lessons to wannabes drunk on fantasies of medieval knights or Star Wars. You know. The usual stuff.” She looked at him with a smirk that assured him she already knew the answer to her next question. “You enjoying all that?”
He cleared his throat and sniffed. His sinuses were still killing him.
“I’m paying my bills.” He shrugged, trying to mimic her nonchalance by turning his focus out onto the street and the passersby. Didn’t keep him from seeing her amused reaction to his answer, that she knew he was full of shit.
Yeah, he’d taken to giving part-time lessons at a local fencing club that included saber fighting. Most of the job seemed more about punishing clients into the realization that they weren’t going to turn into Inigo Montoya overnight and that fighting with a sword required both finesse and brutality. Being good with a sword required a killer instinct. Forcing others with limited skills to realize they didn’t have that certain something was taking a toll on him.
“Look, Mr. Faison.” She leaned forward, crossing her arms on the table. “For some people that’s enough, and that’s fine.” The way she said “fine” left little doubt it was anything but that. “But someone like you…” She shook her head.
He tried to bluff, acting amused and disinterested, but his acting skills failed him again. “You think so?”
The way her expression hardened, that single eye narrowing on him, forced his full focus on her. “I think you’re the kind of person who’s only ever whole when he’s got a sword in his hand and a real fight in front of him.”
She leaned back in her chair again, with all the satisfaction of a wildcat dining on a fresh kill. The silence offered him a chance to respond, but she’d left him speechless. No one had ever peeled him down to his bones like this—not even his parents—not this fast or with such ease.
After giving him his chance to answer and seeing he wasn’t able to, Maria sipped her coffee and then continued. “You’re twenty-six. You used to finish in the top three at most competitions you entered but you haven’t in more than a year. It’s not that your skills or body are fading, and it’s not because you’re distracted by the side work that pays the bills. No, it’s because even the competitions are starting to bore you. Those fights aren’t real anymore, because all that’s at stake there is pride.”
“And what? You’re offering me a ‘real fight’? What is this? Some kind of underground sword fight club, where the loser dies, and the first rule is to not talk about it?”
She shook her head, grinning at his attempt at wit. “This is no game or club. Underground? Somewhat. But what you’ll be doing will make a real difference in people’s lives. I’m offering you a chance to reclaim that fire that ignited the moment you first touched a sword.
“I’m giving you a chance to find your heart.”
Author Bio:
Bill Blume discovered his love for the written word while in high school and has been writing ever since. His latest novel, West of Apocalypse, is now available from Time Killer Publishing. His short stories have been published in many fantasy anthologies and various ezines.
Like the father figure in his “Gidion Keep, Vampire Hunter” novels, Bill works as a 911 dispatcher for Henrico County Police and has done so for more than two decades. He served as the 2013 chair for James River Writers, which produces one of the nation’s best annual conferences for educating and connecting writers.
He graduated from the University of South Carolina with a degree in Broadcast Journalism in 1995. In the years after, he worked as a TV news producer, first in Columbus, Georgia, and then in Richmond, Virginia, which has become home for Bill & his family.
Lovers who have stood the test of time find themselves on unsteady ground. Can their love prevail despite the terror working its way through the pack?
Wedding a Genie: Mark and Luke are getting married… or are they? Mark’s pride may not allow him to show how he feels to a roomful of his nearest and dearest.
The Mating Ceremony: Ethan and Jeremy have been forced into a mating ceremony. Can their love survive their pack traditions?
The Separation: Separated by hundreds of miles and a promise, Charlie and Luis long for each other. Will their love survive?
A Solstice Sundering: When Ethan is ordered back to the pack, his strained relationship with Jeremy comes to the forefront. Can they weather this storm?
Uncertain Foundations: Lovers who have stood the test of time find themselves on unsteady ground. Can their love prevail?
Mark paced. He was dressed, finally, in his coat and tie, his hair tamed. He looked almost the same as he did every day for work, except this was a tux, not just a suit. And it wasn’t black, like the majority of his dress clothes. Luke had picked out a soft brown garment that complemented Mark’s deep tan and his dark brown hair. The tie he wore was the same blue as his eyes. The tie clip, which he hadn’t even known was a thing until Luke produced it, was golden and in the shape of a dragon.
He looked good.
But he longed to rip off all his clothes and go for a swim in the Gulf of Mexico.
Someone knocked on the door to the “groom’s” changing room on the boat he and Luke had rented for their wedding. Mark quit pacing and forced his hands not to shake. “Come in.”
His brother, Jonathan, stepped in and shut the door. “Are you all right?”
Mark scowled. “Why?”
To his surprise, Jonathan didn’t snap right back. “Because I was nervous as hell when I got married to Becca,” he said quietly “And you haven’t known Luke half as long as I knew Becca before I proposed.
“Besides, Mark,” he added, “I know you. Making a change like this is difficult at the best of times and you’ve just been promoted. You’re trying to get your feet under you.”
Mark let out a long sigh. “You’re right, I’m nervous. I love him, I want to be with him for the rest of my life. Why am I so jittery?”
“Like I said, it’s a big change.” Jonathan turned for the door.
“That’s it? You’re going to come in here, confront me about my nerves, and then just walk out?”
“You’re calmer now,” Jonathan pointed out.
Mark huffed a laugh. “I still want to go for a swim in the gulf.”
“As long as you get back here in time to dry yourself off, I don’t see why that’s a problem. It’s almost an hour before…” Jonathan tilted his head and said, “Or maybe Luke’s presence would help.”
Mark’s tension rocketed up from a five all the way to a ten. “Luke?” he squeaked.
Jonathan left the room and Luke stood in the doorway with two tall glasses in his hands. “I know we’re not supposed to see each other before the wedding,” Luke said, sounding apologetic. “But do you mind if I come in?”
Mark took two steps back and gestured his soon-to-be-husband inside. Luke used his magic to close the door without touching it.
“Showoff,” Mark teased weakly.
“Genie prerogative,” Luke answered. He took a sip from the glass in his left hand and offered Mark the other one.
It was a rum and Coke; Mark sensed that even before he could smell the contents. Luke knew what relaxed him. “You could feel my agitation all the way from the other side of the boat, huh?” he asked as he sipped. And then took a little more because Luke just made this particular drink so perfectly.
Luke, being a genie, Mark’s former genie, had a connection to Mark’s emotions. Sort of like the telepathic link Mark had to Luke, although in that case it was because of Mark’s dragon genetics. For Luke, it had everything to do with the rules that governed his species. Or at least that was what he and Mark had decided. Probably, if SearchLight ever chose to study genies more thoroughly, they would find a different, or at least more exact, answer.
Luke nodded, his golden eyebrows drawn together in a worried frown. He set his glass on a handy table and crossed to Mark. “What’s wrong?”
Damn, but Luke looked good. Mark traced the lapel of his lover’s tux. Brown, like Mark’s, but a lighter shade. Luke had really coordinated everything. “You look like a sex god,” Mark murmured.
That got him a brief smile but then Luke’s serious expression returned. “Talk to me, my Mark. What’s making you so jumpy?”
Mark didn’t know how to lay hands on the source of his nervousness and so he simply shook his head. He, too, set his glass down and wrapped his arms tightly around Luke, resting his cheek against his lover’s shoulder. His whole body wanted to shake and he held it at bay. He felt so safe in Luke’s embrace.
“Okay, so this is helping,” Luke correctly interpreted. “I can just hold you during the whole ceremony if you want.”
Mark tensed. “I don’t want…” He stepped back.
The look on Luke’s face was that of a stricken calf.
Mark hugged him close again. “It’s not you, it’s me, and I know that sounds like a crock of shit but…” He rubbed Luke’s back. “Please understand… I’m sorry… I don’t know how to explain but I’m so sorry…” He let his words fade away as Luke placed a gentle kiss on his hair. Mark couldn’t help thinking he shouldn’t feel this way, not when he was the head of a whole damned department, he’d known Luke for three plus years, and he all but worshiped the ground his genie lover walked on. Why was he feeling so defensive?
“I’m feeling vulnerable,” he whispered as the truth made itself known.
Luke’s voice in his ear was unfailingly soothing and warm. “If you want, we can postpone or…” His swallow was audible in Mark’s ear.
Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender women’s speculative fiction. 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. And in the contemporary world she’s named “Sticks & Stones,” Emily has vowed to create small towns where prejudice is challenged by a passionate quest for equality. Find her on Facebook at Shapeshifter Central or on her website.
Sable and Wynn have kept their relationship quiet. Love cupids and loss cupids are too different, after all. But cupid society wasn’t always separated. When Elder Meir hatches a plot to use Sable and Wynn to prove cupids work better together, Sable and Wynn are all in. However, the plot requires they travel to the human world to tackle a very complicated case of love and loss where failure isn’t an option. They can only hope their bond will be enough to overcome the odds.
Sable shook his head and sighed. The poor guy sitting at the park bench on the other side of the path from where Sable stood, reading a brochure with a picture of white sand and blue ocean on the cover, really was suffering, and all because a love cupid had hit him with an arrow. On the one hand, the man was clearly very in love with his wife. He adored her and the life they had together. On the other, his real love was the opportunity to travel. He wanted to see the world, exactly as the brochure in his hands invited. However, as long as he was married to his wife and tied up with her social calendar, he was never going to have the opportunity.
Sable concentrated, using his magic to sift through the pieces of information he felt emanating from the subject as the man closed the brochure and tipped his head back against the top of the bench to stare at the blue sky. To find his true happiness, what the man needed was to be able to say no to the next charity ball, to skip the musical or play that month, or even to miss the golf tournament his wife signed him up for every year.
There was no need to negate the marriage or remove the love cupid’s arrow completely, Sable decided. The man really did love his wife, and he didn’t mind most of the events she dragged him to. He just needed enough free time between those events to get on a plane and fly to another country. To do that, he had to develop a backbone and the ability to be firm about advocating for himself against her demands to escort her to all her events.
That wouldn’t be too difficult to manufacture. The shaft of an arrow appeared in Sable’s hand, cedar to hold the spell and fly true. He added goose feathers with a bit of twine and glue on one end of the shaft because they symbolized both loyalty to family and a transition. A steel broadhead for resiliency went on the other end. Sable concentrated on the finished arrow, calling up his magic.
Barefoot on soft white sand, the quiet rush of the waves, and the glow of the moon overhead. Beauty and peace. And then his wife walked up to him and took his hand, holding him close to enjoy the view together, and the moment became perfect. All he had to do was find the courage and ask, and this dream would become reality.
Sable let out a breath and opened his eyes as the spell snapped into place. His fingers tingled with the backlash, but the arrow was complete. The glue was still a little damp, but there was no time to wait. This opportunity while the subject sat on the bench was too perfect. Sable called up his bow, the recurve crossbow appearing in his free hand. He loaded the arrow and aimed.
“Don’t you dare!”
Sable jumped. Thankfully his finger hadn’t been on the trigger, because he would have shot the arrow into a tree instead of his target.
“Don’t you loss cupids have anything better to do than ruin all of the love cupids’ hard work?” the voice continued.
Sable turned to look, already scowling. The man standing behind Sable, hands on his hips, was vaguely familiar. Sable had definitely seen him flying around the clouds the cupids called home but had never spoken with him before. Down on Earth and confined to a human form, he didn’t look all that different to what Sable remembered. Long blond hair, windswept and slightly tangled in the breeze, and blue eyes darkened by scorn, he was the embodiment of what a love cupid should look like. Minus the wings, of course, since those were hidden from human view whenever any cupid came down to Earth. He was also incredibly hot, particularly the way his lower lip jutted out—begging for a nibble—as his scowl deepened.
“I have my mission,” Sable replied, but that only made the love cupid scoff.
“Some mission.”
Sable managed to keep himself from rolling his eyes at the level of sarcasm in those two words. Sable had his mission, exactly as he had said, and no love cupid was going to get in the way of that. Still though… Sable bit his lip, and when the cupid’s eyes dipped down, tracking as Sable slowly let his lip slide free from between his teeth, Sable made his decision.
“Use your magic on him. What do you feel?”
The love cupid stared at Sable a moment longer before huffing out a breath and refocusing on Sable’s subject.
“He’s happy and in love,” the cupid replied after a moment.
“Is he?” Sable replied, keeping his tone bland. While the love cupid was distracted, Sable lifted his crossbow, aimed, and fired. The arrow flew true, slamming into the man’s chest directly over his heart where it shimmered for a moment before vanishing.
“Hey!”
“Feel him now,” Sable said, cutting into the cupid’s ire as he spun back toward Sable. “Now tell me if he’s happy. Tell me!” Sable insisted
The cupid glared at Sable, but when Sable only looked back, firm with the knowledge that he was right, the cupid huffed out another breath and turned back to the man.
The subject was no longer staring longingly at the sky. Instead, he had the brochure open again and was running a finger down the line of departure dates on the final panel, a broad smile on his face. A moment later he pulled out his cell phone, tapping to make a call before bringing it to his ear.
“Honey, remember how you were complaining that you didn’t want to see that one-man play where the character has multiple personalities that Jan insisted we needed to see because her son helped produce it? What if we already had other plans?” He paused, listening. “Well, we don’t need to tell her when we booked our other plans, but I think we would both enjoy two weeks exploring Panama and Colombia with a few days relaxing on the beaches in Aruba rather than seeing that play.” He listened again, his smile growing even wider. “Exactly! Should I go ahead and book it?”
Sable turned away, satisfied both by what he was hearing and by what his magic told him. The man had taken the first step toward truly being happy; there was no reason for Sable to linger.
“How did you do that?” the love cupid asked, hurrying to catch up to Sable. “You didn’t break my arrow. You layered your own on top of mine!”
“I needed to break his attachment to always saying yes to ensure his wife was always happy,” Sable explained. “You were right that he and his wife are a perfect match, but his happiness was entirely dependent on hers. My arrow gave him the incentive he needed to balance ensuring her happiness and his own.”
“Huh.” The love cupid suddenly stopped walking and held out his hand. “I’m Wynn.”
“Sable,” he responded, taking Wynn’s hand and shaking it. Wynn let go slowly, his fingers almost caressing against Sable’s.
“I like the way you think, Sable,” Wynn said, his voice when he said Sable’s name dipping low and sultry. “I’ll definitely be seeing you again.”
He winked before abruptly turning and jogging away into the trees. A moment later, he vanished with a brief flash of light, heading back up to the clouds.
Sable looked at his hand for a moment, his skin still tingling faintly from Wynn’s warmth.
“Huh,” Sable said, echoing Wynn from a moment ago.
He had a feeling Wynn was lingering in the landing zone up in the clouds, waiting to see whether Sable might be interested in a game of chase. A game, Sable thought, smiling to himself, that would likely end up in one of their bedrooms.
Sable was definitely interested in giving Wynn’s little game a try.
He walked the last few steps into the trees, reaching the spot where Wynn had vanished, and paused to double-check himself. Wynn was a love cupid, after all, and Sable a loss cupid. They were so different, and this really wasn’t a good idea, and yet… Wynn’s playful wink said he didn’t care. Sable… He shook his head. He cared, but despite that, he still wanted to see where a tryst with Wynn might lead.
Sable signaled, and the flash of light enveloped him. A moment later, the cloud where the landing zone was located appeared around him. Wynn stood in the doorway, his bright white wings spread. When he saw Sable looking at him, he grinned and took off, flying over the clouds in the general direction of the city.
Sable rustled his own wings, stretching them out after their confinement while on Earth, then took off, too, following Wynn.
While the chase might be fun, catching Wynn was definitely going to be much more so. Sable honestly couldn’t wait.
When Mell Eight was in high school, she discovered dragons. Beautiful, wondrous creatures that took her on epic adventures both to faraway lands and on journeys of the heart. Mell wanted to create dragons of her own, so she put pen to paper. Mell Eight is now known for her own soaring dragons, as well as for other wonderful characters dancing across the pages of her books. While she mostly writes paranormal or fantasy stories, she has been seen exploring the real world once or twice.
Forrest House E.M. Hamill Publication date: January 11th 2026 Genres: Adult, Fantasy
Ander Forrest renounced blood magic to become a nurse-healer in his rural hometown, far from the drama of wizardry and espionage his sister Kate craved. When Kate goes missing in action, Ander finds himself the legal guardian of her gifted twins and receives a cryptic warning from Kate’s husband to protect them before he, too, disappears.
Six months later, his former lover crash lands in the kids’ bedroom via a spell only Ander’s sister could have cast. Druid Cai Piper doesn’t remember how he got there, but he knows he never stopped loving Ander, and that he was sent to protect him and the twins. Cai is strangely drawn to Forrest House and the land it stands upon.
With the secrets of a clandestine wizards’ order hanging between them, Cai and Ander must remember how to trust each other as sinister forces move against the Forrest family—magical terrorists who want to exploit their rare sorcery and bring the world to its knees.
Cai cleared his throat. “You said I’m in America?”
“Yeah.”
“And if I was sent by a bloodspell, does that mean Remy and Raven are here?”
“Well, of course.” Ander blinked as Cai closed his eyes and sighed. He wasn’t sure if it was relief or defeat. “You didn’t know,” he said.
“No. Edwyn kept it a secret, even from me.” His fingers touched the blood-matted knot at the back of his head in tentative exploration. “I must have been out. I would never have let him send me otherwise. He was bleeding badly.” His hand tapped an area high and to the outside on his left leg. “Shot in the thigh.”
Ander thought of all the major blood vessels there and breathed a plea to the Goddess that none were severed. “I didn’t think the Fellowship used bullets.”
“We don’t. We were on a joint mission with intelligence agents. Someone started lobbing spells at us and our allies turned and shot each other. He was hit in the crossfire.”
“A Judas spell?” Ander frowned.
“I think so.”
“Were you working with British intelligence?”
Cai opened his mouth to answer, then flinched and rubbed both sides of his head. “Some of my memories are missing. It’s painful to think about.”
“I think you might have a concussion.”
“Maybe. But this feels more like it was blocked by a spell.”
“By Edwyn?”
“I don’t think he would have had time. Not surrounded by guns and magic.” His breath became uneven again, and he sat unsteadily on the bed. “The harder I try to think about it, the more it hurts.”
“Don’t try right now.” Ander came closer and put his fingers under Cai’s jaw, forcing him to look up so he could peer into his eyes. Still no signs of a more serious head injury, but he wasn’t satisfied until he ran his fingers under Cai’s clotted hair to cradle the bruised lump beneath his palm, his senses open for new bleeding. He didn’t discover any.
Cai stared at him as he pulled away, his face inches from Ander’s. They both became aware at the same time of how close he was standing, his hands gentle on the back of Cai’s head as if he were going to draw him into a kiss. Ander slowly stepped back.
“I have to find a way to get back to…” Cai frowned. “To…damn it! They took that, too. I don’t know where we were.” He looked to Ander with a desolate gaze. “I don’t even know if Edwyn’s alive.”
“You can’t ask the Fellowship?”
He stiffened. “No, I can’t.”
“I’d feel better if I could get you to a hospital.”
“I’ll be fine. I think it’s clear I’m meant to protect you and the twins.”
“Protect us from what?” He sat on the bed next to him. “What’s going on, Cai? Why wouldn’t Ed tell you where the kids were?”
He didn’t answer, his gaze slipping sideways.
Ander had not missed this infuriating silence. Kate had pushed Ander away with it, Edwyn maintained it, and Cai had used it to shut down questions when they were together.
He’d left Wales and come home because the people he loved most in the world could barely talk to him unless he was inducted into the Fellowship.
Fury rose in scarlet floods with Cai’s refusal to speak. Ander let it crest. “That’s fantastic. Of course you can’t say anything. Then tell me how to protect them and get the fuck out.”
“You don’t—”
“They’re all I have left of Kate! I need to know how to protect them!”
“If you’re going to shout at me, then I will take that paracetamol now.” His voice was soft, defeated. A crease furrowed the skin between his brows, and the tight lines of his body spoke of more pain than a headache. Ander didn’t have to imagine the grief of not knowing if his brother was dead or alive. He knew only too well.
“I’m sorry.” Ander exhaled, forcing himself to calm. “We aren’t done,” he said in a less strident tone. “You will tell me what’s going on. Fuck the Fellowship and your code of secrecy! Those kids are my priority now. They’ve already lost their mother, and now maybe their father. No more.”
To his surprise, Cai nodded. “I promise I will tell you what I know.”
Disconcerted by his unexpected victory, Ander reluctantly let his anger drain away.
“Are you hungry? I’m making dinner.”
“Starving. I can’t recall when I last ate anything.”
“It’ll be ready in half an hour. Make sure you drink the rest of that water.” He turned to go.
“Ander.” Cai’s expression was gentle as Ander looked back over his shoulder. “It’s good to see you.”
Author Bio:
E.M. (Elisabeth) Hamill writes adult science fiction and fantasy somewhere in the wilds of eastern suburban Kansas. A nurse by day, wordsmith by night, she is happy to give her geeky imagination free rein and has sworn never to grow up and get boring.
She lives with her family, where they fend off flying monkey attacks and prep for the zombie apocalypse.
In the shadow of Bloomstone
Manor, a dilapidated estate hauntingly known as “Lily Lane”, the veil between
the living and the dead is impossibly thin. This collection of nine paranormal
mystery stories explores inheritances, dark family legacies, and spectral
demands, all bound by the Manor’s enduring, dark influence.
This
Halloween, meet the three students who dare to knock on the door of “The 13th
House”—a black, unnumbered prison that holds the sinister secrets of the
past. Their trick-or-treating leads them to a terrifying collection of
artifacts: a bent spoon, a rusted key, and a doll’s eye. Every artifact is a
clue left by a child who vanished, whispering pleas for help from beyond the
grave. The teens must solve the mystery and free the spirits before the
night’s magic fades, or they might become the next secret the old house
keeps.
Every house has a debt. Every ghost has a tether. Uncover the
restless spirits and broken promises that demand attention and resolution.
When the clock strikes dawn, the secrets settle back into the dust and the
lilies—and it may be too late.
Excerpt
Night of the Spirits
Anthony pushed through the thick brush that had swallowed the old path. His
friends told him the house was hidden somewhere ahead, rumored to be haunted.
When he finally saw it, the place looked half-demolished, with climbing walls
that had paint curling and peeling. Yet every window was perfectly intact.
He
opened the front door. Stale, cold air rushed out, thick with dust. His
footsteps echoed through the empty living room.As he moved down the hallway,
the front door suddenly slammed. He spun around and ran back, and in that
moment, he was sure he heard a whisper: Sam.The door wouldn’t budge. He
was trapped. He tried the windows too none of them opened.
Again, the
whisper came, louder this time. Sam.
“Who’s Sam? I’m not
Sam!” he shouted.
A hiss answered him, followed by footsteps
upstairs. Heart pounding, he raced up the stairs. At the top, he stopped and
listened. The footsteps were clear, moving steadily into an empty room. He
followed them.
Moonlight spilt across the floor through a bare window.
The invisible footsteps crossed the room and came to a stop at the closet.
Inside, there was only a small box containing a single book. The spirits
wanted him to find it; maybe it would explain everything.
He lifted the
book. It was an old, battered ledger. Inside, a name was written: Samuel. He
began to read.I made a promise to the spirits trapped here. One of them is
buried downstairs. I swore I would help free them with my rituals. I study the
occult, and they own a golden statue worth a fortune. It must be used in the
ritual. If I hide it now, I can return for it later. No one alive will see me
take it.
Anthony reached deeper into the box and pulled out a loose page,
a torn sheet from another book. It carried a chant and the instructions for a
ritual to free spirits.A freezing gust swept through the room. Then a booming
voice declared:“Complete the ritual by dawn, or be trapped here
forever!”
“What am I supposed to do?” he asked the
spirit.
Once again, he heard footsteps descending the stairs and followed
them. Near the kitchen, the basement door creaked open. He cautiously stepped
down the dark basement steps and saw the cloud-like spirit hovering over a
crypt in the floor, where it looked like a ritual had been started over
someone’s grave. Candles and matches were scattered nearby.
About the Author
Martha Wickham has a knack for finding the
ghosts hidden in the dust. A lifelong student of the arcane and the artistic,
Martha has an Associate’s Degree and professional writing credentials, but she
honed her skills in the thrilling shadows of screenwriting and horror. Martha
lives for the secrets that only come out “By Dawn”. You can discover more of
her work, including her newest audiobooks, at your favorite retailer.
A camping trip with her family is what Maria was expecting. Long walks with her dog, Maggie, the usual banter with her sister, Tanya, receiving unsolicited survival lessons from her dad, and pep talks of positivity from her mom. But her predictions were only half correct. Never would she expect to spend so much time with anyone else. Especially not a total stranger. A stranger with such a pretty smile and beautiful green eyes. Because that’s the thing about people who you don’t know. They can teach you things that you never knew about yourself.
I threw my backpack into the backseat of our blue Subaru Outback and closed the door. I really wanted to slam it, but I had recently taken it upon myself to be less passive-aggressive. Regardless, I shouldn’t show my cards. Mom had practically begged us to be on our best behavior. For Dad’s sake, she had said. It was his idea to go on this family camping trip. Our first one ever. I didn’t know what inspired this idea of his. All I knew was that he thought it would be a good idea to teach us kids about the outdoors. In case we ever got lost in the wilderness or in case there was total collapse of society. The latter seemed to be his greatest fear.
“All set?” my mom asked as she approached the Subaru.
“Yes, my bag is all packed,” I responded.
“Do you know if Tanya is ready?”
Tanya. My lovely older sister. She was the main reason I was dreading this family trip. I tried my best to keep my composure.
“Probably not. You know how she is. Waiting until the last minute to get ready just like Dad.”
“Ugh, I know,” Mom said with a huff. “Your father is still in the shower.”
We were supposed to be on the road by 8:00 a.m., but here we were at 8:20 a.m., still waiting for them. Getting up early was not an issue for me. If anything, I woke up too early. Like today. Five-thirty a.m. was a bit too much, even for me. I knew it was because I had too much on my mind… I just wanted to get this camping trip over with already.
I gave my mom a half smile before passing her by to go back inside. I wanted to say goodbye to my cat, Remy, while I still could. I bet he would enjoy the house all to himself. If anything, he would enjoy being free from Maggie, our four-year-old Australian Shepherd who still had the energy of a puppy. Which, unfortunately for Remy, meant that she wanted to play with him whenever the rest of us were too busy.
It was one of my favorite things about Maggie. How much she loved to play. We could do it for hours. Fetch with her favorite tennis ball or playing with my old, beat-up soccer ball. She even knew how to play hide and seek! But for her, she didn’t really care what we did, so long as we were doing it together. That was why I made sure she was included in this family trip. But truthfully, it was just as much for her sake as it was for mine.
That the one good thing about camping, at least. It was dog friendly.
I opened the kitchen cupboard, hoping to find Remy there. It wasn’t his typical hiding spot, but it definitely wasn’t his most unusual. He was usually to be found under my parents’ bed, but with all the extra commotion this morning, I figured he wanted somewhere quieter.
I was right. There he was, curled up in a tight ball, staring up at me with his bright-green eyes. He gave me a look of “please just let me sleep some more.” Not this time. If only he could understand that he could go back to sleeping in a few minutes, once all of us had left.
He let out a soft meow as I scooped him up and plopped us onto the black pleather couch. I held him tight against my chest, and he nuzzled in, making himself more comfortable. I stroked the long dirty-brown fur on his back, and I could feel him relaxing more deeply. Soon, he closed his eyes as if ready to return to sleep.
If only he knew how lucky he is, not having to endure the family trip that lies ahead.
“Morning, sis!” Tanya screeched from over my shoulder. My entire body jumped in surprise as my heart rate increased. Remy too was disturbed. His eyes jolted open, and he looked direly afraid. I didn’t know if it was from Tanya’s yell or my reaction to it. Either way, it didn’t matter. I was just lucky that he didn’t run away.
“Ready for some family bonding?” she asked with an overly sarcastic tone. It took every bone in my body to not get upset with her. She knew that I startled easily, and I knew that she got pleasure from seeing it happen. I couldn’t fault her for it this time. I could only wonder how I had missed her coming down the stairs.
“Yeah, I’m ready for it if you are,” I said, trying to gauge just how bad of a mood she was in. Out of all the vacations we could have gone on, at least we could agree that this would be very low on the list. Though I knew she wouldn’t handle camping as well as I would.
She mocked me under her breath. “I’m ready if you are,” she muttered to herself in a voice that made me sound stupid. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”
I stared at her without an answer. Was she really starting this already?
“God, you’re so annoying. I can’t believe I’m going to be stuck with you in a car, for, what, like four hours?”
“Like three and a half,” I corrected, wanting to add a splash of fuel to the fire.
“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “Close enough.”
I stared at her in make-believe confusion. “Oh, I thought you’d be delighted. It’s less time than you were expecting to spend with me in the car.”
She stared back at me with a dirty grin on her face. “No one likes a know-it-all, Mar. And that’s only one reason why people don’t like you.”
I instinctively clenched my hand into a fist. I usually tried to ignore comments like these from her, but I was getting sick of being her punching bag. Camping would be bad enough on its own. I didn’t need her comments on top of it.
“Aw, what a real shame Tommy didn’t want to come with us. I can’t imagine why. You’re such a charmer. Hey, well, since he’s not coming, why don’t you take all that makeup off? Or are you too insecure to even let your family see what you really look like?”
Remy wasn’t having it. I could only assume he felt the tension. He jumped off my lap and ran up the stairs, probably to hide elsewhere. Anywhere far from here. It made my skin boil hotter. Tanya had ruined my goodbye with him.
She gave me a smirk. “Okay, one: you know Tommy couldn’t take the time off work. And two: you sound like a jealous bitch. It’s not my fault you’re incapable of obtaining a meaningful, long-term relationship. One that’s filled with connection. One that’s filled with love.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure he really loves you. I totally haven’t noticed him flirting with anyone else. Never.”
“That’s it!” She lunged in my direction with her arms at full stretch.
“Girls!” Mom yelled, swinging the front door open and accidentally slamming it into the wall. She stared at where it had hit, clearly upset that it had happened. She turned to give us an angry look of “see what you made me do?”
Tanya’s eyes were locked on mine as she slowly took a step backward. She maintained a glare at me while doing so, making me believe that she really was about to beat the shit out of me. What retaliation had Mom just saved me from?
“It is too early for this much animosity! Please!” Mom seemed unsatisfied that our ongoing tension hadn’t miraculously disappeared into thin air.
“She started it!” Tanya yelled, breaking our deadlock. I felt like I had teleported back to when we were kids. Her five and me four.
“I don’t want to hear it! We have been over this already! I need you two to get along for the sake of your father. This vacation is very important to him.”
I let out a heavy sigh, knowing she was right. “Yes, Mom. It won’t happen again,” I agreed, really hoping that this would be the last of our fighting. But knowing Tanya, Mom’s interference had merely delayed her retaliation, and she didn’t even have a chance to respond.
It was as if Dad had heard his name and was arriving on cue. He bounced down the stairs with a big bag of God knows what in either hand. “All right, all right, all right!” he hummed. “Who’s ready for some camping?” He expressed it in such a way that made the only appropriate answer to be one agreeing with him wholeheartedly.
“Me!” Tanya said, convincingly, taking the words right out of my mouth. It was officially time to put on the good girl show for Dad.
“Me too, Dad!” I said, sounding equally excited.
Mom looked like a wave of relief had been taken off her shoulders. She had nipped our fighting in the bud before Dad could even become aware of it. It was lucky for her, and it was lucky for us. There was no reason to make Dad upset.
“Great! Let’s pack up the car,” he said.
“I already threw my stuff in there,” I explained, alluding to the fact that I had been ready for a while now.
“Okay, well then, you can help me load these bags into the car, and Tanya, you can help your mother fill the cooler.”
I was pretty sure that Mom had already filled it, but I wasn’t going to correct him, and apparently, she didn’t want to either. She just gave him a smile.
I stepped outside. The cool air of the summer morning hit my face. I could already feel the heat from the sun beaming down on top of my head, which meant regardless of the brisk morning air, today was going to be a hot one.
Dad opened the trunk to the Subaru, looking displeased as he noticed the various items that were already loaded in there. He pulled them all out and placed them onto the pavement. I knew too well what he was doing. He needed to load everything in a specific way, making the most space possible. I stood there, watching him, letting him do his thing.
“I’m leaving space here for the cooler,” Dad said, letting me be privy to the inner workings of his mind. He started putting everything back inside, leaving the left side of the trunk open. “Normally, I’d want to put that in first, since it’s so big, but I guess we are going a little wild today.” He paused for a moment, turning to look at me with an amused grin. “Wild! Ha!”
Oh, Dad.
“Good one,” I said with a soft chuckle, mainly because of his reaction to the pun and not the pun itself. Off to the wilderness we went.
Mom and Tanya came out the front door of the house. They each had a handle to the cooler in one hand as they walked carefully toward us. Dad rushed over to meet them. He swiftly took it into his possession, carried it the rest of the way to the car, and slid it into its rightful spot.
“Great,” he said, satisfied. “Now to get the last-minute items.”
“I’ll open up the garage,” Mom said, as if she also knew Dad’s process. I let them handle the rest as I went back inside to retrieve Maggie.
“Mags!” I hollered, entering the house, but she was already patiently waiting at the door for me. Her eyes were wide, and she panted. She started doing circles around me. She hated being alone. Even if it was for a second.
“Do you want to go for a car ride?” I asked, and she stopped in her tracks. This devolved into her running around me even faster than before. She threw in some kind of silly-looking bunny hops. I let out a wholesome laugh at her utter cuteness.
“Okay, good girl! Sit,” I commanded. Her listening skills were great, just like I had trained them to be. I connected her turquoise collar to its matching leash. Together, we did a final walk around the house making sure that I had packed up everything Maggie would need. Her water bowl, her container of food, the bag of treats, and her blanket. They were nowhere to be found, which meant that I had successfully packed them all into the car.
I eyed her bin of toys, opting to bring one more with us. I hadn’t wanted to get it dirty, but I changed my mind. She’d be happy to have her favorite stuffed pickle available to chew during the car ride, so I picked up the soft green blob, and she excitedly mouthed it out of my hand. I smiled down at her, letting her carry it the rest of the way.
“Does anyone need anything else from inside?” I hollered to my family as I opened the front door once more. With overwhelming nos from the family, I locked the door behind me and joined the rest of them at the rear of the car.
They had made fast work. The trunk was now stuffed, with the cooler barely visible behind all the additional items around it. From what I could tell at a glance, they had added in the tents, a propane stove, and camping chairs. With how full the trunk was, it looked like we were going on a two-week trip, but luckily for me, we’d only be gone for the next five days.
With everything all set, we hopped into the car. Dad as the driver, Mom as the copilot, me sitting behind Dad, and Tanya seated behind Mom. Then, of course, there was Maggie, who was half on my lap and half on the middle seat. She shoved Pickle in my face, making me do nothing but smile.
I said a mental goodbye to Remy, and the house at large, as the garage door closed and we began to drive away.
Natalie Monteiro lives in Central Massachusetts where she enjoys embracing her creativity in whatever form it takes. From writing, to singing, to painting. Natalie also works as a biological research scientist in her daily life. She achieved a Master of Science in Pharmacology from the University of Minnesota and a Bachelor of Science in Neuroscience from the University of New Hampshire. Throughout her years of schooling, her creative roots never stopped calling to her, which ultimately resulted in her debut novel Vermont Paradise. It is her hope that Vermont Paradise can serve as a reminder for all to follow their passions. May the process bring much happiness.
At the age of 13, Aurelia’s entire life changes when her parents
begin to align themselves with the Juarez Cartel, running drugs and
trafficking women through Rio Bravo, their small town off the Rio Grande
River. Determined to get away from this life, Aurelia collects years of
evidence on the cartel.
At the age of 17, she is forced to run when her parents arrange a marriage to
a cartel member. After working with the FBI to take down most of the cartel,
she is placed in a protection program. Unbeknownst to her, the Juarez Cartel
has rebuilt and is stronger now than before.
In a twist of fate, Aurelia is kidnapped, forced to marry Diego, son to the
leader of the cartel, and produce an heir. Diego, who becomes an unseen ally,
along with Aurelia begin to align themselves with individuals throughout
Mexico to take down the cartel. They will fight, blackmail, and kill to
protect those they love.
In an act of desperation, Diego makes the ultimate sacrifice and enlists the
help of Daniel Zimmerman, a U.S. FBI agent and Aurelia’s first love. On
the day of the raid, will everyone make it out of Mexico alive?
About the Author
T.R. Motley. I have lived in Oklahoma all of my life. For the last 28
years now, I have dedicated my life to taking care of my family and other
families as a nurse. I worked in the Pediatric ICU for 25 years taking care of
extremely sick children. There were highs, when I was able to place a child in
his parent’s arms after a being on life support to watch the smile on both of
their faced for a very long time. There were lows, when I placed a child in
their parent’s arms, which would be the last time they would ever hold them.
My love of books started as a teen when life was not the best, and I would
place myself in the characters shoes and get lost in the story. As an adult,
it was my escape from reality in a sometimes cruel world. Along the way, my
own stories began to swirl in my head. I always wanted to put those stories on
paper, but needing to be a responsible adult, took the safe route.
On my last week in the PICU, my fellow coworkers and I went on a float trip.
Several people asked if we had it to do over again, would we still have become
a nurse. Surprisingly, only two people said they would. When going around and
asking what everyone would have done instead, I said I would have become an
author. Silence ensued for a minute, before there was a chorus of, “Go for
it!” Two months later, I did a ton of research and started my first novel.
Seven months later, I had a completed piece of work. Months of beta reading
and changes along with and editor, helped round out what my book has become.
Now, twenty years later, I am pursuing that dream of storytelling.
Aurelia’s story is about overcoming any obstacle, even when being pushed down
from every angle for most of her life. It is about seeing some of the worst
circumstances in life, facing those head on and fighting back to make her life
better. It is about believing that just because you were born into a certain
life, you can fight for what you want and make your way out. It is about
finding love in the worst circumstances and having life ripped away once more.
It is about a woman fighting in a man’s world and excelling. It is about
finding friends in the misted of tragedy and realizing sometimes people will
fight for you just as hard.
We see the mark drug cartels not only leave on the U.S. and Mexico in general,
but in the lives of real people. We see how easy human trafficking and
bringing drugs in from Mexico can be. We learn that people are so greedy for
power and money, that they allow these things to happen. People that should
protect us. This is a powerful story of how Aurelia, who is immersed into this
world, not only fights for herself, but others who have been drug in along
with her. There are powerful characters that Aurelia meets along the way who
join forces to not only help her with this fight but become the family she
never had.
This is a romantic suspense novel, appropriate for ages 18+ (adult only).
It is June 1924 when an inquisitive but skeptical Gemma Danforth
graduates from Wellesley College. Despite a loving family, an idyllic New
England girlhood, and family summers in the Hamptons, little had assuaged her
doubts Now, with college behind them, she and two classmates leave America
bound for post war France where they will be immersed in the pulsating culture
of European modernism. While in France, she reunites with her Paris based
parents, and, in Nice, amidst its creative ferment, she falls in love with
Rhys, a British aristocrat and ex-pat journalist. During this year spent along
the Cote d’Azur, encounters with Sara and Gerald Murphy, Somerset
Maugham, Zelda, Isadora Duncan and others, adds a depth and richness to the
ambience of le midi. And so begins the process of displacing her doubts.
She and Rhys return to American where their values collide with antithetical
and alien attitudes. It is these experiences that come to challenge long-held
beliefs and provide a vivid counterpoint to their recent immersion in the
Modernist aesthetic and world view.
Resolved to return to France, Gemma shares a final day in America with Gerald
Murphy at his ocean front Hampton estate. As this unhurried afternoon unfolds,
it becomes clear that Gemma’s skepticism and doubtfulness have been
replaced with a clear-sighted maturity and hardened resolve. The next morning,
aboard the Ile de France, Gemma and Rhys sail for France.
About the Author
Stephen Asher is a graduate of UCLA and was subsequently educated at the
University of Rochester School of Medicine, University of California San
Francisco, and St. Catherine’s College Oxford. His professional life was
spent as a neurologist, often walking the fine line separating the mind from
the brain, a vantage point which encouraged a perspective molded not only by
the scientific and the rational but also shaped by the aesthetics of the
senses. It is this unity of world view that fashions one of the novel’s
central themes.
Asher and his wife were drawn to Idaho’s arid vistas, glistening rivers,
and rugged skylines. As a travelling angler, he has pursued Atlantic salmon
throughout their natural range, has sought sea run brown trout in Patagonia,
and steelhead in his home waters in the Pacific Northwest. He and his wife
have cycled much of France, and, during quiet times at home, he enjoys music
and plays cello.
Previously, he has published essays, and short pieces in the British sporting
literature. He is a member of the F. Scott Fitzgerald Society, the Barbara Pym
Society, and is a proud supporter of PEN America. He lives in Idaho with his
wife, adult children, and his bird dogs.
Hewey Calloway, Elmer Kelton’s favorite footloose cowboy, has
always been known to have a generous nature, readily giving to those in need.
Time has finally mellowed Hewey and given him some wisdom that was lacking in
his youth, but deep down, he’s still the same old Hewey. In this sequel
to The Smiling Country, a beneficiary to one of Hewey’s past
generosities pays him back, and with interest. Knowing Hewey would decline a
monetary repayment, he is gifted land back in Upton County.
Trouble is, it was bought from his old adversary, Fat Gervin, who is still as
crooked as ever. Gervin finds a seeming loophole in the contract and tries to
pull another fast one on Hewey, who is fed up with Gervin’s endless
treachery. Tensions rise, and when Gervin is shot, it’s Hewey
who’s on the hook for the crime. But things are never as they seem, and
it’s up to an eclectic cast of characters to sort it out, and for Hewey
to learn what’s really important in life.
Written by longtime journalist turned novelist John Bradshaw, who was selected
by The Elmer Kelton Estate to continue the Hewey Calloway tradition.
About the Author
John Bradshaw is a native of the small town of Abernathy, Texas. He is
an award-winning journalist with well over a thousand published stories. Elmer
Kelton’s The Familiar Stranger, co-authored with Steve Kelton, is his
first book.
Bradshaw attended South Plains College followed by Texas Tech University. He
spent several years shoeing horses for a living as his writing career
progressed.
While the desire to write books was always there, Bradshaw first pursued a
career in journalism. He wrote numerous stories for ranching, horse and
horseshoeing magazines.
Growing up, Livestock Weekly came in the mail once a week, as it does for most
in the livestock industry. Writing for Livestock Weekly was always a goal, and
in 2005 Bradshaw’s first story was published. It was a profile of
Brownie Metzgar, a humorous cowboy still working in a feedlot while in his
late 80s.
In 2007 Bradshaw accepted a fulltime position with Livestock Weekly. While
with the paper he had over a thousand stories published, as well as enough
market reports to give him permanent nightmares.
Horses have always played an important role in his life. The son of a
horseshoer, he has spent a significant amount of time either on or under a
horse. He still shows in both ranch horse and reined cow horse competitions.
He and his wife, Sara, live outside Abernathy. Sara owns an architecture firm,
SK Architecture Group, and they raise Spanish goats, hair sheep and cattle.
In 2013 the couple had a stillborn son, Fox Joaquin Bradshaw. After several
years of heartbreak they adopted an infant boy, whom they named Julian Boone
Bradshaw. Boone died in his dad’s arms following an accident at the barn
five days before his sixth birthday.
NYT and USA Today Bestselling author Kaylee Ryan brings you a new standalone series surrounding the Nashville Rampage football team. Follow the Play is a single dad, nanny, friends-to-lovers, forced proximity sports romance.
Baker
Being a single dad was never part of the playbook, but one look at my son and everything changed.
Now football and fatherhood are my whole world—a world that gets turned upside down when my nanny quits two weeks before training camp.
Sloane Peterson runs interference by stepping in to help.
She’s sweet, dependable, and the one woman I shouldn’t want. Not when our lives are so entwined.
But every time she smiles at my son—or me—it gets harder to remember that our little arrangement is only temporary.
Sloane
Taking a short-term nanny gig for Nashville Rampage’s most eligible DILF has disaster written all over it.
But when Daddy Sin is in a bind, I do just that. It keeps me from waiting tables, and his son is the cutest little boy on the planet.
Baker Sinclair is famous, has a body like a Greek god, and when he’s in daddy mode… he’s irresistible. He’s also currently my new boss, and completely forbidden.
The longer I’m in his home, the less this feels like a job.
Because between reading bedtime stories and baking cookies, I can’t imagine my life without them… either of them. Too bad love doesn’t follow lesson plans… or playbooks.
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author Kaylee Ryan has been crowned the Queen of Swoon by her readers. With nearly fifty romance books under her belt, she’s known for penning happily ever afters with heart. When she’s not writing, you can find her with a book in her hand or hanging out with her family where she resides in her home state of Ohio.
