SPOTLIGHT: Goddess of Everything by Paul DeBlassie III #paranormalthriller @pdeblassieii

Goddess of Everything

Paul DeBlassie III

 
Genre: Paranormal Thriller
Publisher: Hallowed Realms Press
Date of Publication: 2.11.20 
ISBN: 978-0-578-81368-4
ASIN: B08R13FQSH
Number of pages: 199
Word Count: 57,900
Cover Artist: Aaron C. Yeagle
 
Tagline: Goddess of Everything is a blood-curdling tale of the affection of one mother for her son and her son’s struggle for truth, freedom, and love.
 
Book Description:
 
In the mystic land of Aztlan del Norte, a realm of supernatural happenings and unexpected turns of fate, psychiatric healer Gabriél de LaTierra encounters appalling evil within the Orphanage of the Holy Innocents. Children disappear for reasons kept secret by Mother Juana de la Cruz, Superior of the Nunnery and the Orphanage.
 
Love for Mother Juana, Gabriél’s widowed mother turned religious superior, clouds her devoted son’s mind. Consuela, Gabriél’s wife, confronts his wall of denial. Torn between love for mother and wife, Gabriél turns inward.
 
It is Consuela who propels Gabriél’s discovery of the nighttime blood sacrifice of children in the desert, a centuries-old ritual that imparts immortality to Mother and her nuns. Gabriél is further enraged by Mother Juana’s vengeful attack on Consuela and her kidnapping of their four-year-old son, Cuauhtémoc. But his actions will determine whether Consuela and Cuauhtémoc live or die, and the fate of Mother Juana de la Cruz.
 
Goddess of Everything is a blood-curdling tale of the affection of one mother for her son and her son’s struggle for truth, freedom, and love.
 

Excerpt

His mother wailed again. Nighttime darkness continued to descend, and the wind stayed its brutal course at Father’s funeral. Mother Juana hadn’t noticed the spirit of a
man cloaked in light beside Gabriél. He wasn’t Gabriél’s father. He was more
than a man; he was everything that Father was and more. Through the corner of
his eyes, Gabriél saw the white-bearded old man. In many ways, in many forms,
I will come. The words were close as heartbeats and breath. He knew if he
turned and looked directly at him, the man would disappear. The light was
intense, like rays of the sun. The old man had something to say.

Suddenly, unclean sounds went into Gabriél’s ears and chest—crackling and squealing voices rising from under the earth and into his body, trying to block out the
lingering presence of the old man and his words. Like a god, the white-bearded
man lifted his right hand, fingers spread. The noise went up from the ground
into his palm, a mighty hand with powerful magic.

Gabriél’s mind became silent as a windless autumn night, magic making him still inside, just like he was when in his bedroom reading alone. The old man was strong and made
what was bad cease. Even as the underworld racket stopped, the graveyard winds
kept up their awful screams.

The quiet of the man and the moment wrapped strong and warm arms around Gabriél. Invisibility stood guard around the old man. Mother could not see him. No one could see him.
He was there only for Gabriél. He bent down beside Gabriél and touched his
shoulder. A crystal clear calm made the shrieking wind and the crying women and
the priest’s strange prayers seem far, far away.

Mother’s red hair blew in the wind like it was on fire. It didn’t scare Gabriél because of
the old man, his warm and solid hands steady on Gabriél’s shoulders. His kind
eyes said he was ten thousand times ten-thousand-years old. His mother’s red
hair and shrieking prayers no longer scared him.

Then the old man spoke, and through Gabriél’s mind sent a message, LISTEN… WHEN THE DAY GOES AWAY AND THE NIGHT COMES, REMEMBER I AM HERE. He touched Gabriél’s heart. LISTEN.

Gabriél’s mother abruptly glanced down at him. He looked into her eyes and knew she
hadn’t heard the old man, but she had a squint in her eyes. Her eyes glowed
red, and the old man’s hands did not move from Gabriél’s shoulders.

Big branches from the cottonwoods cast long moon shadows over the grave. Now they looked like skinny people scratching at each other, cloaking the old man. The wind
picked up its screeching.

Gabriél’s heart pounded like stampeding horses.

Mother squeezed his hand. His fingers tangled together, tips burning with pain. Then she looked away and wailed more loudly than ever.

The old man continued, TELL NO ONE ABOUT ME. I WILL HELP YOU AS A BOY. I WILL HELP YOU AS A MAN. LISTEN. The old man motioned again to Gabriél’s heart and then touched between Gabriél’s eyes, the brow point.

The old man stopped and looked up.

Gabriél caught his mother’s gaze.

She’d seen the old man, pointed at him, and screeched like the evil winds.

Blistering dust and grit blinded Gabriél. He pulled his hand away from his mother and rubbed his eyes and tried to clear them, but when he looked again, squinting, he saw
that the light of the old man had vanished.

His mother was wrapped in a cloud of dust. Out of the cloud came a coyote, foam curling from its mouth. It howled, and an instant later legions of dust devils took over the
landscape and swallowed it in clouds of dust, trash, and tumbleweeds.

Mother reappeared beside him and picked him up. She screeched with a million hateful
voices. His heart beat rapidly, fluttered like a flock of sparrows flying away. Catching his breath was hard.

“The night plays tricks,” his mother seethed, her breath hot and rank.

The winds suddenly ceased. Brown and gray clouds gave way to blackness that closed in and covered the full moon. Spirits of children rose out of their graves. They pointed at Gabriél and his mother. Their hands and fingers grew and reached to grab him, take him away under the earth.

Mother swept her black shawl over Gabriél. She whispered, “I will protect you, mijo.”

They escaped into the jet-black night.

 

About the Author:

Paul DeBlassie III, Ph.D., is a psychologist and award-winning writer living in his native New Mexico, crafting visionary thrillers energized with trickster mischief and natural magic.

https://www.pauldeblassieiii.com/

https://www.facebook.com/pdeblassieiii

https://twitter.com/pdeblassieiii

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/56373593-goddess-of-everything

Preorder: The Majaraja’s Fake Fiance by Alisha Kay #ContemporaryRomance @alishakayauthor @BookReviewTours

A scandal-averse Maharaja.
A free-spirited actress.
What do you get when you throw them together and add a fake engagement to the mix? 
Either a match made-in-heaven or a royal disaster…

Nivy Sharma knows exactly what she needs – the freedom to be herself and follow her passion. Guess what she doesn’t need? A tailor-made husband.

When her meddlesome mother tries to throw her into the arms of a mom-approved suitor, Nivy runs the other way. 

Right into the arms of the man who shattered her heart.

His Highness Veerendra Singh can recognise a pain-in-the-ass when he sees it. Especially when it falls into his arms.

Even if said pain-in-the-ass has legs that go on forever and lush lips that just beg to be kissed, Veer vows to run the other way. As he did once before…

But, when the marriage-minded princess of Tejpur sets her sights on him, Veer runs back into Nivy’s arms to propose a fake engagement.

When ‘fake’ starts to feel very real, Nivy and Veer have to decide what is important… long-held prejudices or the chance for a life with the only person they’ve ever loved.

Will this be their second chance at love or will their broken past ruin their hope for a shared future?

Goodreads * Amazon.in * Amazon.com

Releasing 10th March! PREORDER Today!

Read an excerpt….

His Highness Veerendra Singh looked at the girl lying unconscious in his arms and his heart skipped a beat. Once, he had dreamed of just such a moment, when Nivy would swoon into his arms and he’d rescue her from a monster. He wondered if he’d stepped into a time machine and travelled backwards, because the last time he had seen that lovely face had been five years ago. Nivy had since scraped the dust of Devgarh off her heels and never looked back.

“Veer, what did you do to her?”

He looked into the accusing eyes of his sister and scowled.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Zombie’s your dog, and if he scares someone to death, that’s your fault,” she argued.

Veer looked at the unconscious girl critically, and then he looked at his sister.

“She doesn’t look dead,” he said with a straight face.

“That’s Nivy, you dolt. I’m surprised you didn’t recognise her, considering how you watch every movie of hers from the first row.”

Veer shook his head at the utter lack of respect and wondered if he could get away with dunking her in the palace pond. Probably not, he thought regretfully. 

Sisters were a cross one had to bear with a smile, especially if one was the head of a respectable royal family. Even if he was sorely tempted to land Jessie a swift kick in the butt, he would grit his teeth and ignore the brat, for he didn’t like to distress his mother. 

Meanwhile, Nivy moaned softly, and to Veer’s horror, the sound went straight to his groin. To make matters worse, he realised where his hands had landed when she fell into his arms. The left one was directly under her breast, and the right one was on her curvy butt. He was aware of a sudden need to clench his fingers.

Veer took in a deep breath and tried to channel his thoughts into less lewd directions, but her citrusy scent invaded his senses. As he stared at Nivy, her lips parted and she moaned again. There was a tiny mole on her upper lip that simply begged for a closer inspection. 

Jessie cleared her throat.

“I don’t think she needs mouth-to-mouth,” she said, dryly.

Veer realised that he had been bending over Nivy’s prone body. Damn that trouble-making mole!

He jerked his head back, and nodded to the butler hovering discreetly.

“Munshi Ji, please bring us a chair,” he said, with a glare at his sister. 

“No, wait! You need to take her to my room,” squeaked Jessie.

Veer looked at her suspiciously. His sister had that look on her face which she got when she was up to something.

Also, why was Nivy not waking up?

As if on cue, she moaned again, and Veer gritted his teeth. He needed to drop this inviting little bundle right now, before he embarrassed himself.

“A chair will do, Jessie.”

His sister put her hands on her hips.

“And which medical university did you graduate from, Your Highness? Stop playing doctor and just carry Nivy to my room, if you please,” she snapped.

 Veer rolled his eyes.

“What’s going on, Veer? Is that Nivy? What happened to her?”

Veer stifled a groan, as he turned to his mother who had just walked out of the ballroom where she had been wooing some miserly royals into loosening their purse strings.

“Yes, that’s Nivy, Ma,” said Jessie

“And what is she doing in Veer’s arms?”

Veer opened his mouth to explain, but his pest of a sister beat him to it.

“He was just carrying her upstairs to my room.”

“You can’t expect me to carry her up three flights of stairs, Jessie. Unless you really want my spine to telescope. Is that your grand plan?”

Jessie drew in a sharp breath and stared at him in horror.

“Veer! Did you just call Nivy fat?”

An icy voice echoed her question.

“Yes. Did you?”

Veer looked down, right into a pair of furious brown eyes. Thickly lashed and luminous. But, furious.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Alisha Kay is a Delhi based writer, who writes romances set in India.

She doesn’t hold with the concept of damsel-in-distress, which is why her heroines are spunky women with a sharp tongue and the ability to rescue themselves. Her heroes are hot men who are woke enough to find that independence irresistible. 

The Maharaja’s Fake Fiancée is Alisha’s first book.

Instagram * Twitter

SPOTLIGHT: Silent Knight/Sleepless Knight (Duet) by Gale Stanley #HolidayRomance #LGBTQ @GalenStanley

Silent Knight / Sleepless Knight by Gale Stanley

Cover art: Bryan Keller

Genres: Gay Romance, Multiple Partners, Holiday

Length: Box Set

Page Count: 145

Silent Knight

Paul Stanton thought he had it all, a great job, a beautiful condo and a stable relationship with his boss, but when his lover dumps him for another man, Paul is forced to rethink his life. Rather than spend the holidays alone in San Francisco he visits his childhood home in rural Pennsylvania. But only a few days with his family is enough to convince Paul that you can’t go home again.

Paul leaves for the airport in the midst of a snowstorm. Stranded in the woods, a chance meeting with a hunter is his only option for survival. Paul knows the type, a backwoods bigot just like the men he grew up with, but what choice does he have? A few days with the hunter convinces Paul there’s more to Andy Reynolds than meets the eye. But is it enough to bind two men who have nothing in common except their sex?

Sleepless Knight

Andy and Paul are totally committed to each other, but when the two-year itch infects their relationship, Paul becomes distant and refuses to talk about it. Andy arranges a much needed vacation, but on the way home they pick up a hitchhiker who’s willing to trade sex for a roof over his head. Andy will do anything to make Paul happy, even if it means bringing another man into their bed. But is a threesome really the answer? Or will it drive them further apart?

Silent Knight Excerpt:

Andy studied his houseguest. Under different circumstances, Paul’s features would be extremely appealing, but right now, his high cheekbones were an unhealthy shade of pale, and his sensual lips were blue. He hoped Paul would accept his help. “Okay, let’s get you into bed.”

“I usually get dinner first,” Paul mumbled.

Paul’s attempt at humor was a good sign. Andy chuckled. “I’ll give you something to nibble on later, city boy.”

Andy helped his unexpected guest to the sleeping alcove. It was only across the room, but Paul leaned heavily on Andy, and by the time he sat on the bed, sweat beaded on Paul’s forehead. The man was obviously exhausted, but he tried to push Andy away when he attempted to undress Paul.

“Come on, city boy. You need to warm up.”

“I’m good.” Paul’s sentence ended with a shiver.

“You’re not good. You’re hypothermic and maybe frostbitten. Let me take your clothes off, and maybe we’ll save a few body parts.”

Andy’s harsh words must have gotten through to Paul. He stopped protesting and allowed Andy to undress him. When only Paul’s boxers remained, Andy surveyed his body with a clinical eye. There were no disturbing signs of frostbite. He just needed to rest and warm up. Paul might be cold, but he was also incredibly hot. Andy couldn’t help checking out his houseguest’s perfect golden tan. Obviously, the man was from a warmer locale. And Paul’s lean, muscular body, sprinkled with light brown hair, shouted gym rat. When Paul lay down on his back, Andy was surprised to see an erection escaping Paul’s boxers. He reached for the waistband to pull the shorts off.

Paul rose on his elbows and swore under his breath. “See anything you like?”

Sleepless Knight Excerpt

Los Angeles, California

Who gets fired from a stripper job? Un-fucking-believable. He’d missed one fucking last minute schedule change and the manager gave him the boot. At the last club, he’d got sacked for arguing with a customer who’d gotten too frisky.

Maybe he should try another line of work. Do you want fries with that?

Zach consoled himself with a beer at the Banana Bar, an upscale dance club he really couldn’t afford. He didn’t even notice the guy next to him until he felt a firm thigh rubbing against his. He glanced over from the corner of his eye.

“A penny for your thoughts.”

“They’re not worth that much.”

“Bad day?”

“The worst. I lost a lover and a job.”

“Shit, man. That’s too bad. Let me buy you another beer. I’m Rick Lord, by the way.”

“Zach Baker.” He twisted and put out a hand.

“It has a nice ring to it. Real or screen name?”

“I don’t have any use for a screen name. You?”

“You never heard of me?”

“No, can’t say I have.”

“Well, I haven’t been in the business long,” Rick conceded.

“What business is that?”

“Rick Lord of the Jungle.”

Zach looked at him blankly.

“Porn, sweetheart. My dick is getting rave reviews.”

“Sorry man. I’ll have to pick up a copy. I’ve been thinking about getting into skin flicks myself.”

“Really?” Rick eyed him with interest. “My producer is always looking for guys. Wanna show me what you got?”

This could be the break he’d been waiting for — or just another guy looking for a blowjob. What the hell. Zach couldn’t afford to pass up a chance, even a small one. He nodded.

“Meet me in the alley.” Rick threw some money on the bar. Zach slid off the stool and walked toward the backdoor, knowing Rick would follow.

Light from the street cast a dim glow over the alley. Zach unzipped and freed himself. Rick ran his fingers up and down Zach’s flaccid prick. Zach took over, pumping until his erection grew long and hard in his hand. “Seven inches.”

Rick licked his lips. “Nice, but let’s see what you can do.”

Zach expected he’d have to audition. He got to his knees and worked on Rick’s zipper. The man’s cock sprang free. Already rock hard, it didn’t need much work. Christ, eight or nine inches at least. But Zach had no doubts about his cock sucking abilities.

He closed his eyes and inhaled Rick’s intoxicating male scent before licking the head of his cock and wrapping his lips around the shaft. Zach relaxed his throat muscles and let the long, hard length ease down his throat until Rick’s trimmed bush tickled his nose.

Zach slid his lips back up Rick’s cock and he sucked on the sensitive head. The taste of precum exploded on his tongue and he sucked harder. He reached down and fisted his own stiff dick.

“That’s it sweetheart. Use your tongue.” Rick urged him on.

He knew Rick was close when he started fucking Zach’s mouth in earnest. In a few minutes Rick filled his throat with spurts of hot salty cum.

Zach swallowed Rick’s load and jerked his own cock in a frenzied attempt to get off. A few more hard strokes and he splattered the bricks with his cum.

Available at

Changeling Press | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iBooks

Author Bio and Links

Gale Stanley grew up in Philadelphia PA. She was the kid who always had her nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and her hands on a pad and pencil.

Some things never change.

Website | Blog | Twitter | FaceBook | Instagram | Pinterest

Happy Reading!

The Infiltrator by K.A. Raines #DystopianRomance @KA_Raines

Title: The Infiltrator

Author: K. A. Raines

Genre/heat rating: Dystopian romance/4

M/F

A virus has rendered humanity mostly extinct. Keira Starr is alone, staying alive by staying on the run, sleeping in empty gas stations and the trunks of cars long abandoned on the highway. The world is overrun by “Ghosts,” the mindless, bloodthirsty dead, but they are the least of her problems. She is being hunted by ragtag groups of ruthless men, independent contractors working for a mysterious human trafficking ring. When she is finally captured, she discovers that Derrick Caine, despite his gruff demeanor and appearance, may just have a different agenda altogether.

Excerpt:

“What happened to you?” she breathed. “Who did you lose?” She knew she was pushing him, that she should stop before she went too far, but it felt like observing a train wreck, watching from a distance as the engine rushed ahead at full steam, and, even foreseeing the impending disaster on the tracks, being powerless to stop it. “You risk your life tryin’ to save women and children. Who was she? Your wife?” She didn’t even know why she cared. She didn’t want to care. Derrick Caine was a virtual stranger to her, yet she knew she was already in way too deep.

He growled suddenly, a low, guttural sound that jarred her out of her trance when she rather unexpectedly found her space invaded by him for the third time in the past several minutes. Yet the charge in the air had shifted subtly; he no longer seemed angry, exactly, but there was something decidedly predatory in his eyes.

“You want from me?” His voice in her ear was a dangerous rumble that elicited chills up her spine and ignited a fire that bloomed hotly in her womb, a delicious contrast. Quite suddenly, all she wanted was to relieve the dull throb between her legs that his voice and presence evoked; she wanted him so badly that she physically couldn’t endure not to have him soon.

You. Just you. “I could ask the same of you,” she settled for, and she couldn’t stop the tremor in her voice. She was overwhelmed by him—by his nearness, by the heat emanating from his body, drawing her in. She tentatively raised a trembling hand, reaching up to touch a raised scar on his chest, just above his left pectoral. His chest continued to visibly rise and fall, and he was breathing hard through his nose in an obvious effort to calm himself, fists clenched in tight balls at his sides. His breathing hitched when she barely touched him, a feather-light caress, her fingertips just skimming the jagged edge of his scar. She had known all along that he was in pain. So much unbearable pain—yet he would never admit it to anyone, least of all her.

Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08CFRXZCS

About the Author:

K.A. Raines is a U.S. Navy veteran who lives in Longview, TX with her children and who has a passion for reading, writing, red wine, and good food. Her love for science fiction, the paranormal, and romance bleed into her writing.

Author links:

Twitter | Facebook | Website

Famous Murders: Nick and Jacklyn by Ann Raina #EroticRomance #BDSM

A killer on the loose, an FBI-agent in love, and a famous actor in danger.

After three murders in the Washington, DC, vicinity, the FBI Agents Hayes and Beckham are assigned to solve the case. Although the murders seem incoherent at first, it becomes clear that there are connections between them. It turns out that the murderer is far from having reached the end of his deadly list.

Aside from the investigation, Agent Hayes has to find a way to get on with his demanding girlfriend and her challenging love games. Can he do both and not lose himself?

Buy at Amazon & Extasy Books

EXCERPT

For a second, Aaron feared Steven would drive on, ignore a man in need, but then the turn signal was on, and the muscle car slowed down to stop behind Aaron’s pick-up truck. Steven let down the driver’s window and stuck out his head.

“Do you need help?” he shouted.

Aaron’s plan collided with his desire to hurt the actor and let him bleed, and for a second, he feared his voice would simply deny the words he had carefully prepared.

“Yes! Oh, I’m so glad you stopped!” Aaron reached the sedan and put a relieved smile on his face. “Steven! Oh, I didn’t expect you here. How fortunate!”

“Yeah, the studio called, and I’m back on my way to New York.”

“Ah!” Aaron swallowed and pointed back to his car. “I picked up a woman a mile down the road, and she…fainted! Imagine that! Now, I wanted to take her to the health clinic, but my car just died. I was lucky to steer it onto the shoulder before the steering wheel locked up.”

“Now, that’s a row of bad luck.” Steven shook his head, amusement in his voice.

Aaron’s fist wanted to punch the smile off his face. He panted and made wide eyes. “Would you mind taking her? I don’t know what she’s got, and I wouldn’t forgive myself if—”

“Yeah, okay. Calm down.” As expected, Steven—sighing as if the worst things on earth only happened to him—opened the door and got out, all manly and confident. “Can’t let you down here, pal?” He smiled engagingly, but he checked his watch a moment later. “I’ll take her. Did you call for a tow truck?”

“No. It just happened a few minutes ago.”

“The woman first, I see.” Steven slapped Aaron’s shoulder like he’d do with a buddy. “You’re a good guy. If you want to, I could take you, too. You know, so you could call from a nicer place than this lonely road. Cell phone might not work around here.” He rounded the large trunk toward the passenger side. “I didn’t see a car on the way so…was she on her way on foot?”

Aaron hadn’t thought of such a question, but quickly said, “Yes, she said she’d walked half a mile maybe until I stopped for her.”

Steven’s voice was full of regret. “People are uncouth and egoistic these days. What if it happened to them?” He had reached the door. “Now, let’s see if I—”

Aaron held the needle to Steven’s neck, right above the leather jacket’s collar and pressed down quickly and forcefully. Steven cried out and fell forward against the window.

“What the fuck—” He turned his head, eyes full of fear and pain. “Aaron, what—” When he reached for something to stop his fall, Aaron was clear-headed to keep him from ripping off the side mirror and guided his fall. Lying on his back, Steven stared at him, shocked. His hands trembled as he tried to grab Aaron’s arm. “What’ve you done to me?” Steven’s voice slurred, but his eyes were still open.

Aaron was anxious to have miscalculated the dose and checked quickly for witnesses, but two cars passed by without slowing down.

“Why you son of a—” The actor’s eyes closed, and his body slackened.

Spotlight: Tamed (Wolverine MC) by Alexi Ferreira #paranormalromance #shifters @alexi_writer

♦️🐺Tamed🐺♦️

🐺Wolverine MC🐺


Preorder


HAWK

Stubborn woman, why is it that I get the mate that doesnt listen? The moment I saw her I knew she was mine, now I must just convince her. Everytime I turn she is there, when will she understand that she’s in danger? It’s time to stop being lenient, Onix will realize that I am not going to let anyone hurt her, she is mine and it’s time she understands that.


ONIX

If he thinks he is going to tell me what to do he has another thing coming, I cant just sit around and do nothing, I will let him think he has tamed me, for now. He will realize that I am his equal and not a woman that follows his every command. 

Preorder


Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/53903320
Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/books/tamed-wolverine-mc-book-2-by-alexi-ferreira

Spotlight: Demon (Devil’s Fury MC) by Harley Wylde #MCromance #AgeGap @HarleyW_Writer

Cover Art by Bryan Keller

Farrah — I’ve spent my entire life at the Dixie Reapers MC compound — one of the perks of being the VP’s daughter. Except it’s suffocating. Leaving to start a life of my own was the only solution. I knew what it would mean if I went to the Devil’s Fury MC compound, even more so to flirt with their Sergeant-at-Arms. Getting involved would ruin the little bit of freedom I’ve found. Then I ended up in the man’s bed. Leave it to me to find trouble around every corner. My daddy is going to be so pissed, especially when I run from Demon, get snatched off the streets, and shoved into a trunk. I’m not winning at the adulting thing.

Demon — She was a one-night stand. Until the condom broke. Then I found out she’d lied to me. The hot little number in my bed wasn’t just any woman, she was the daughter of a Dixie Reaper. Maybe I shouldn’t have barked orders at her, or spanked her. Feisty little Farrah ran, pissing me off even more. When she disappeared and I realized trouble had found her, I knew I’d do whatever it took to make sure she was safe. Only after I had her back did I realize she was f**king perfect for me. Watching her handle the club wh*res was hot as hell, and she didn’t take sh*t off anyone.

I’ll make her mine — permanently.

WARNING: Demon’s book contains graphic violence and sex, bondage, spanking, bad language, and scenes that may be difficult for some readers. But it also has a heroic dog and a man who will move heaven and earth to protect the feisty, smart-mouthed woman he loves. There’s no cliffhanger and a guaranteed happily-ever-after.

Preorder for September 11th at…

Amazon | Apple Books | Kobo | Barnes & Noble 

 available September 4th at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.Copyright ©2020 Harley Wylde

The music blasting from the speakers in the ceiling pounded against my skull like a sledgehammer. Maybe I was getting too old for this shit. Forty-three didn’t sound ancient until I got around the younger generation at the clubhouse. Partying had lost its appeal over the last few years. Watching my brothers settle down had caused a strange twinge in my chest, an ache I absently rubbed. I hadn’t been serious about a woman in a while. I’d thought one of the little señoritas staying at the compound could be something special, but it hadn’t worked out. She’d since moved on, along with the others. Except the younger ones.

Glancing around the room, it seemed far emptier than before. Even the Pres wasn’t here tonight. Now he had three little chicks under his roof and had turned into a ferocious papa bear. I hadn’t seen him walk off with any of the club whores, ever, but at least he’d come to drink and hang with the brothers. Since those girls came to stay here, we’d seen less and less of him on nights like this. Couldn’t blame him.

Starla, one of the newer club whores, sashayed over. Her red lips were slicked to a high shine and her eyes had been rimmed in black. There’d been a time I might have been tempted by the sway of her hips, the come-hither look on her face. Now she just came across as desperate. She moved closer, her perfume nearly suffocating me, as she trailed her nails up my arm and across my shoulder.

“Looks like you could use some company,” she said, settling on my lap.

Part of me wanted to shove her off, but all she’d done was make my headache worse. No harm in letting her sit for a minute. Her hand grazed my chest and headed for my zipper. I closed my fingers around her wrist, halting her progress.

“Not tonight,” I said. Or any night.

Her lip stuck out in what she probably thought was a sexy pout. It didn’t do a damn thing for me. When I released her, I gave her a nudge off my lap until she stood next to me. As the Sergeant-at-Arms, and single, the club whores tended to flock my way, in hopes I’d claim them as my old lady. Never would happen, but it didn’t stop them from trying.

The doors to the clubhouse swung open and a curvy blonde stepped through. No, not stepped. She sauntered into the room, head high, shoulders back, and gazed at her surroundings as if she owned the place. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lower lip and my cock hardened behind my zipper. A quick sweep of the room told me I wasn’t the only one checking her out, but I’d damn sure be the one balls-deep in her later.

I stood and made my way across the room, my prey in my sights. Stopping close enough I could feel the heat of her body, I waited for her to acknowledge me. When she ignored me, it only made me want her more. Reaching out, I tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze.

“You lost, little girl?” I asked, realizing she was far younger than I’d thought. No way she’d gotten past the Prospect at the gate if she wasn’t at least eighteen, but she was still young enough to be my daughter. No fucking way she was a day over twenty-five, if that.

“No, I’m not lost. You’re in my way.”

Oh, I liked the sass on this one. I smiled and placed my hand at her waist, tugging her closer. “Your way? Did you get a good look when you came in? Pretty little things like you only have one place in this clubhouse. On your knees or bent over a table.”

A flush worked its way up her neck and settled in her cheeks. Her eyes darkened and her pulse fluttered. Seemed she liked the idea. The way her dress hugged her body, it left little to the imagination, but I still would prefer to have her naked and spread out so I could feast on her. Only one problem. I didn’t have a room at the clubhouse anymore and I didn’t take random women back to my house.

“Maybe this isn’t my first time seeing this sort of thing,” she said. “You may not have seen me here before, but it doesn’t mean I’m stupid when it comes to bikers. I know more than you think.”

I stepped back and scanned her. “No property cut. No ink claiming you as an old lady. You making the rounds? Whatever club you came from, I promise to treat you better.”

“Full of yourself, aren’t you?” she asked, but I noticed she leaned a little closer.

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re the one who’s gonna be full of me.”

About Harley Wylde

Harley Wylde is the International Bestselling Author of the Dixie Reapers MC, Devil’s Boneyard MC, and Hades Abyss MC series.

When Harley’s writing, her motto is the hotter the better — off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place. She doesn’t shy away from the dangers and nastiness in the world, bringing those realities to the pages of her books, but always gives her characters a happily-ever-after and makes sure the bad guys get what they deserve. 

The times Harley isn’t writing, she’s thinking up naughty things to do to her husband, drinking copious amounts of Starbucks, and reading. She loves to read and devours a book a day, sometimes more. She’s also fond of TV shows and movies from the 1980’s, as well as paranormal shows from the 1990’s to today, even though she’d much rather be reading or writing. 

Find her online: Website | Twitter | Facebook

Renegade/Wire (Dixie Reapers MC) by Harley Wylde #ContemporaryRomance #AgeGap @HarleyW_Writer

Renegade (Devil’s Boneyard MC 6)

Darby: At fifteen, I thought I knew everything. But life hadn’t prepared me for a biker who would kidnap me and abuse me for five years. Being tossed in a dumpster and left to die wasn’t at the top of my list for ways out of that life, but then Renegade found me. I want to trust him, but to give him my heart only to have him turn out like every other man I’ve ever known would break me.

Renegade: I lost my family a long time ago, and I vowed I’d never have another. Then I found Fawn and her mother, Darby, thrown away like so much trash. Hearing their story is enough to make my blood boil. But once I exact revenge for all they’ve suffered, I might not want to let them go.

Wire (Dixie Reapers MC 13)

Lavender: My parents weren’t the type to win any awards, but I did learn a few things — like how to read code and get through the backdoor of pretty much any program. When my parents end up dead, I can’t think of anyone else who might be able to help me. I know too much, and now I’ve been targeted. If the infamous Voodoo Tracer can’t help me, then I’m screwed.

Wire: I never really expected my past to come knocking at the front gates, nor did I expect it to be in such a sexy package. Lavender is exactly what I want and don’t need — a nerdy, geeky, superintelligent woman who craves me as much as I crave her. Now she’s mine, and if an enemy from my past thinks he can hurt her, I’d like to see him try. I will destroy anyone who tries to take her from me.

WARNING: Lavender and Darby’s stories contain abusive pasts that may be triggers for some readers.

 

Get the paperback at Amazon

 

 

Praise for Renegade (Devil’s Boneyard MC 6)

“This book hooked me from the get go — I just couldn’t put it down. I fell in love with these characters and OMG what a story, just a perfect read.”

— 5 Stars from Jeanne, Amazon Review

“I adored Renegade. If there were more like him this world would be a better place. Darby being who she is turned out to not be anything but a strong amazing woman and mother. It answers every question that is presented throughout the story that you have and it doesn’t leave you hanging. Harley wrote these characters with love and made you want to root for them. This series is worth the read!”

— 5 Stars from Elsie, Amazon Review

Praise for Wire (Dixie Reapers MC 13)

“I really enjoyed Wire. I love how revved he gets Lavender and he isn’t even trying.  I love that Lavender revs him up just as much… I thoroughly enjoyed this quick read from Ms. Wylde.  It is full of unexpected twists and turns.  I enjoyed seeing how Ms. Wylde worked her relationship magic.”

— 5 Shooting Stars from Luna, Redz World Reviews

“I loved this pair. There couldn’t have been a better partner for Wire. This is a fun, fiery, sexy… story that will give you a whole range of emotions.”

— 4 Stars from Sorrel, Long and Short Reviews

 

SNEAK PEEK

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Harley Wylde
Excerpt from Renegade

I fucking hated this time of year. The pumpkins and shit didn’t bother me, it was more the memories attached to the month of October that got to me. Today especially. My parents and brother had been gone for fourteen years but time didn’t make the pain lessen any, which was why I was at the liquor store restocking my beer, rum, and picking up a bottle of vodka. Time didn’t heal all wounds, but at least alcohol would numb me enough to make it through to tomorrow. I knew my sister, Nikki, still had trouble with this day as well, but she’d suffer on her own or with friends. I didn’t see her as often as I’d like, but I tried to keep her away from the club. She garnered too much interest when she came around, and I didn’t want to beat on my brothers.

I set the items on the counter and the woman popped her gum and held out her hand. I took out my wallet and pulled out a few twenties, but she shook her head.

“ID.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I demanded. “I’m forty-four years old and I don’t look old enough to buy this shit?”

“Sorry. I don’t make the rules.” She pointed to the sign behind her. We have the right to refuse service for any reason. ID will be required for all purchases.

I growled as I jerked my license from my wallet and threw it on the counter. The last thing I needed right now was someone hassling me over my purchase. It wasn’t the first time I’d been carded and wouldn’t be the last, I just wasn’t in the mood to deal with it right now. While it was the law to card everyone, I’d noticed none of my brothers who actually looked their age ever dealt with this shit.

The woman looked at the ID, scratched at the surface, and gave me one of those disbelieving looks.

“It’s not a fake,” I said. “Who the fuck fakes the age of forty-four?”

My mother had once said that there would come a time I would like looking younger than my actual years. So far, that hadn’t proven true. It was fucking annoying.

She handed the license back and took my money, then rang up the alcohol. By the time I was walking out of the store, I was livid, but I knew it wasn’t really the woman’s fault. She’d been doing her job and not intentionally hassling me. It was just this shitty day. I’d brought my truck, knowing what I wanted to buy wouldn’t fit in the saddlebags on my bike, and stashed the rum, vodka and two cases of beer in the back seat, then pulled a can from one of the boxes. Before I could pop the top, a sound drew my attention. A scuff or scratching noise. I set the beer down and slowly crept toward the side of the building, pausing at the corner. Might just be a stray scrounging for food, or it could be trouble. A liquor store at night had a tendency to draw in the bad elements. Wouldn’t be the first time the place had been robbed, or someone had been held up in the parking lot.

There was a shuffle and something kicked a can. Dog? I listened harder and heard what sounded like a human’s footsteps. I reached for the gun at the small of my back, pulling it before I edged around the building, my finger on the trigger guard of my Sig. Very little light pierced the darkness, but I saw a small shadow moving. It wasn’t very big. I didn’t know if I was about to be ambushed by someone trying to hide themselves, or if there was actually someone in need of help. Moving in closer, my heart nearly stopped when I saw the dirty face of a little girl. Long, red hair hung in a tangle down her back, and I noticed her feet were bare. A quick glance didn’t show anyone else in the area, but I was hesitant to put away my weapon. Wouldn’t be the first time some asshole used a kid to lure in a victim.

“Is your mom or dad here?” I asked, trying to keep my tone as non-threatening as possible.

The little girl pointed to the dumpster and began walking that way. She stopped in front of it and lifted a hand to the opening on top. I braced myself in case someone leapt from inside to attack, but as I neared the metal container and peered inside, my breath stalled in my lungs. Holy shit!

“That your sister?” I asked the girl.

She shook her head.

“Your momma?” I asked again, barely believing the woman who was likely dead was old enough to be a mother. Then again, maybe she just aged really well. At first glance, I’d thought she was maybe sixteen or seventeen. Wouldn’t be the first time a kid had given birth, if she really was as young as she appeared, but I hoped that wasn’t the case. Kids should have a chance to be exactly that — kids.

The little girl nodded.

“All right. I’m going to put my gun away and I’m going to get your mom out of there. Can you step back so you don’t get hurt?”

She stared at me a moment before shuffling back a step, then another. It was eerie that she hadn’t said a word, but at least she’d obeyed. I climbed the side of the container and reached inside, pressing my fingers against the pulse point in the woman’s throat. I exhaled sharply when I realized she was still alive, and carefully extracted her. She shivered in my arms, her body barely covered except for the dried blood and bruises coating her skin. Her clothes were cut or ripped, exposing enough of her that I worried what might have happened to her. I hoped whatever asshole had done this to her would suffer.

“I’m going to get your mom some help. Can you follow me to my truck?” I asked the little girl.

She slowly approached and reached out to grip my jeans. She held on as I carried her mother to the front parking lot. The door to my truck was still ajar. If it weren’t for the club’s colors I’d added to my tailgate, someone likely would have boosted it. Most people around here didn’t want to fuck with the club and gave us a wide berth.

I balanced the woman as I shoved the alcohol to the floor, not even caring at this point if the damn vodka and rum busted other than the fumes it would create. Whatever these two had been through was far worse than the demons I fought on this day every year.

“Get in. I’m going to buckle your mom up front,” I told the little girl.

She had trouble getting into the truck, so I opened the front door and made sure her mom was secure before lifting the tiny girl into the vehicle. I didn’t know a lot about kids, but she felt a little too light and fragile. I made sure she was buckled, then hurried to the driver’s side. As the dome light came on, I glanced at my front seat passenger and nearly froze. There was something familiar about her. Too fucking familiar, even though I couldn’t remember where I’d seen her. It would come to me, but right now I needed to get her somewhere safe.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed Scratch as I started the engine.

“Need your help, Pres,” I said as I pulled out onto the street, not giving a shit that I was driving while I was on the phone.

“The kind that requires bail money?” he asked, knowing the significance of today.

“No. The kind that requires your wife and a doctor. Found a woman beat to hell and left for dead in a dumpster, and her kid, though the kid seems to be in better shape. I’m on my way to the compound now.” I paused a moment. “I think I know the mom, but I can’t remember how.”

Scratch cursed. “Take her to your place. The clubhouse is too rowdy for a kid right now. I’ll have Chansy head that way.”

 

About the Author

Harley Wylde is the International Bestselling Author of the Dixie Reapers MC, Devil’s Boneyard MC, and Hades Abyss MC series.
When Harleys writing, her motto is the hotter the better — off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place. She doesn’t shy away from the dangers and nastiness in the world, bringing those realities to the pages of her books, but always gives her characters a happily-ever-after and makes sure the bad guys get what they deserve.
The times Harley isn’t writing, she’s thinking up naughty things to do to her husband, drinking copious amounts of Starbucks, and reading. She loves to read and devours a book a day, sometimes more. She’s also fond of TV shows and movies from the 1980’s, as well as paranormal shows from the 1990’s to today, even though she’d much rather be reading or writing.
You can find out more about Harley or enter her monthly giveaway on her website. Be sure to join her newsletter while you’re there to learn more about discounts, signing events, and other goodies!
Stalk the author online at…

Price of Fame by Treva Harte #GayRomance @HarteTreva

Gene Price, former teenage star, has been living the simple life, cut off from anyone who knows about him and his former bad reputation. When Gene gets death threats he turns to Leo, the bodyguard and lover he fired years ago. He doesn’t want any part of his past, but Leo is the only one he trusts to protect him.

Leo is sure Gene will stay in California — with Leo — once he gets Gene back home. But it looks like Gene’s only here to make sure his only friend in the state isn’t the one making threats.

It probably doesn’t matter that Leo cares a hell of a lot for Gene. Enough to protect him, find out the truth, and let Gene decide whether to stay or go.

Publisher’s Note: The Price of Fame Duet includes the previously published novellas Going Back and Guarded Heart.

Get it Today at Changeling Press

 

SNEAK PEEK

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Treva Harte
Excerpt from Going Back

“Been a long time, Leo.” The extra decade looked good on him. He had more muscle — more presence. He wore his suit easily, not like the nervous minder Lane had hired back in the day. There was just enough gray at the temples to make him look distinguished. He’d grown up looking fine.

I found myself rubbing the surgery scar underneath my hair. I thought I’d broken myself of that nervous habit. But I didn’t like the way he was assessing me. Yeah, we both knew the extra decade hadn’t done as much for me. I sure as hell wasn’t the pretty boy people had gone insane for when I was in my teens and early twenties. I could see in his eyes that he wasn’t impressed. It was no more than I expected, and better than the outright disappointment I sometimes got. But it stung a little.

“A long time? Yes.” His voice was deeper now, but he’d talked a little more back then. Smiled a little more.

He wanted to be here even less than I’d wanted to ask for him. My stomach clenched again. What else could I expect? I couldn’t think of anything I’d done then to make him want to see me now. It was too bad that I’d liked him back when I didn’t like anyone much. Since I remembered the way I worked during my glory days, it meant I’d been more of a dick to him than I normally was. And I was a pretty big dick to people.

“I probably should apologize for that long ago time.” My memory was a little spotty, but I remembered a few incidents with him hustling me out of trouble while I did my best to stay back in it. And of course the reason he’d quit.

He looked at me steadily and didn’t say anything.

So I kept talking. “I’m still kind of an asshole, but I like to think my time away from all the glitter has improved my behavior some. People don’t get nearly as pissed off at me now.”

“Death threats usually mean someone is pissed off,” he pointed out.

I took a deep breath. “Well. I suppose there’s that. I was hoping you would tell me not to worry so much about it.”

“Afraid that’s not in my best interest. You hired me and hauled me out here on the tail end of a blizzard because you’ve been worried, and now I’m being paid to worry about it. But whatever. I don’t care about how you feel about these notes as long as you realize I’m in charge of keeping you safe. I’ll do whatever seems necessary.”

“You aren’t much in favor of the customer is always right, are you?” I tried to smile. It wasn’t his words so much as his attitude that stung. I probably had picked the wrong guy for this job.

Strange how disappointing that thought was.

“May I see the originals?” He held out his hand as if I carried the notes next to my heart or something.

I stood up and fumbled in my desk drawer. I didn’t usually use my desk drawers for anything but dumping unwanted mail. I suppose these qualified.

Leo put on reading glasses and set his mouth in an even straighter, grimmer line if that was possible. He read the two of them three times before he looked up.

“They don’t mention why you deserve to die,” he said. “As you say, you’ve been out of the public eye for a decade at least. What have you stirred up recently?”

I shrugged. “Nothing. Seriously. I keep pretty much to routine here. Pay my bills, say hello as needed to the neighbors, feed the dog.”

Leo glanced over at Ozzy, who half-opened his eyes and thumped his tail agreeably. Everyone was Ozzy’s friend. It could be annoying.

“Anything at all?”

I frowned. “I have something in mind, but I haven’t done it yet.”

Leo didn’t say anything. He was good at that.

“Really, the only thing I’ve done recently is start to think about investing in some property near here. There’s talk about rebuilding the only hotel and restaurant within thirty miles. It went out of business a few years ago when the owners retired and sold to some New Yorker who promptly went bankrupt in the middle of trying to make the place look like New York. It could bring in some jobs and money, but I wouldn’t want it done stupidly with some new development company that goes bust. I only got as far as asking Lane to look into pulling out some principal from my savings if I thought it might pan out. But people around here want the hotel back. No one local would be threatening me. Actually, if they did, they’d probably just come after me with a shotgun. There’s plenty of those around here.”

“Nothing else?”

“Jesus. I live by myself and I keep things quiet. Haven’t done television or a movie in years, and paparazzi aren’t likely to track me out here to watch me buy my groceries or split firewood.” My head was starting to hurt. I took a deep breath. “I’m pretty inoffensive nowadays.”

The old landline phone with the loud ring made me jump. I didn’t get a lot of calls.

“Hello?” I relaxed. My most constant caller was Lane and even she kept it to once or twice a month usually. This must be one of those calls.

Yeah, it was her.

“You’re about to have a visitor.” She sounded a little tense.

“Leo is already here. No problem.” Or not much of one. I was already a little twitchy from his presence, but I’d get over it once I got used to someone around.

“I’m glad, but I don’t mean a bodyguard. I suppose I don’t mean a visitor, either.” Lane stopped.

“That clears that up.”

“Don’t take up being a smart-ass again. You don’t have time for it.”

“All right, all right. What the hell is going on?”

“You’re about to have family call on you.”

“What the hell?” I hadn’t spoken to my parents since I turned eighteen and took control of my own money — and sued the hell out of them for taking mine before that. “Head them off!”

“Can’t. Social workers are on your trail.” That’s when I heard the note of real concern. I was in trouble?

“What? I’m way too old for a child care agency and not old enough for senior services.” A little too late, I realized I should have asked Leo to step out of the room.

“Congrats, Gene. It’s a boy.”

 

About the Author

Treva Harte has always been an overachiever. She also collects things. First it was degrees. First a B.A. in English, then she decided to go back for a Master’s degree. Not content with that, she added a J.D. Since then she’s added a husband, also an attorney, and two children to her collection. She’s continuing her ways as an overachiever, writing her wonderfully offbeat tales of passion and possibilities — in her spare time.

Visit her website at www.trevaharte.com.

How Not to Date a Human by Stephanie Burke #paranormalromance @FlashyCat

Oh why, oh why did the condom break?

Now McCabe is stuck explaining to an unamused Spooky how an alien virus has introduced her to the world of shifters. But everything should be fine so long as she avoids her lovelorn boss and takes her new situation and the shifter support group seriously. Matters of the heart are a tricky thing, especially when you decide to date a human.

Get it Today at Changeling Press

 

SNEAK PEEK

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Stephanie Burke

He thought of the ring still sitting in his pants’ pocket and almost cackled in glee. His plan was working, just not in the order he’d devised.

First, he was supposed to delight her with his culinary skills, which shocked most people. After all, who ever thought that a construction worker/show magician would do anything more than lift weights and practice sleight of hand? But he could cook, and the four-course meal he had produced more than proved it.

The next thing was confession. He had a doozy of a secret, bound to make any normal woman run screaming from the room. But his Spooky wasn’t normal — well, not average, at any rate.

Spooky Love was the best thing that ever happened to him. He met her when he and his crew were hired to design office space at a scientific lab called Deci Corp a little more than two years ago. His boss, knowing he held a master’s degree in engineering, felt he could bridge the gap between the layman and the academic elite when it came to explaining the cans and cannots of their plan. At one of these meetings he met Ms. Spooky Love, who had three master’s degrees and a disdain for anything or anyone not giving their all.

She had taken one look at his written proposal and wondered aloud why he wasn’t publishing. “Publish or die,” she reminded him, and he found himself telling her of his academic burnout.

“At your age?” She sounded skeptical.

“I got my bachelor’s when I was thirteen, and then it was non-stop school, pressure from my peers when I was better than them, pressure from the schools who used me like a poster child for their training techniques, and finally not being credited for my theories because my academic advisor felt I was too young to understand what my name going on a study could mean. I found myself standing on the roof of the science building with the intent to take a long walk when I was almost beaned with a brick. I mean, not a small ornamental one, but a huge frigging foundation type brick. Then I noticed how ill put together the building actually was. So I came down off the ledge, put in a safety complaint with the powers that be, and walked off campus. I was twenty-two when I discovered that I felt a lot better about using my intelligence if I could make it so no buildings would collapse on people, and that was that. I never looked back.”

Spooky thought his story was interesting enough to learn more over lunch, and then dinner, and then breakfast.

He’d thought she would complete her intellectual slumming and then move on, leaving him a little colder but grateful for the opportunity to get up close and personal with her, but within a month, shared breakfast was a common occurrence.

That she moved in with him was a miracle, and that she stayed was a blessing he never discounted.

So, almost a year later, he knew Spooky was the one woman he would spend the rest of his life loving.

And that was step three of his plan. But that kind of got sidetracked when he presented her favorite dessert. She made such erotic noises consuming the creme brulee that he had to take advantage.

 

About the Author

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

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

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

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

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