BOOK REVIEW: Get Tragic (Battle Crows MC) by Lani Lynn Vale #mcromance #contemporaryromance

Get Tragic

Battle Crows MC, Book 5

Lani Lynn Vale

Release Date: July 12, 2022

About the Book

Usually when you find out you have a stalker, you don’t fall in love with him.

But Banger Olivia Crest isn’t your normal, run of the mill, everyday girl. Banger is a truck driver who just so happens to know how to sling drinks in her spare time.

She’s had a bad hand dealt to her time after time, and the last thing that she wants is to go all in. At least, that’s until she meets the geeky biker with his shy looks, and his surprisingly awesome fighting skills.

Easton McKennick, ex-FBI agent and newest member of the Battle Crows MC, never really intended to actually reveal that he’d been stalking Banger since his early days in the FBI. In fact, he never intended to do anything at all when it came to the woman that held his heart.

That was, until she offered to be his fake date to a police ball that just so happened to be where his own stalker would be. To sell it that he was happy and he’d moved on from his previous relationship, Banger and Easton pretend they’re a couple.

All it takes is two hours for them both to realize that there’s not very much pretending going on.

The only problem is, Easton’s stalker put a bull’s-eye on their backs, and they don’t know how to fix it.

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✦ Audio: COMING SOON

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MY REVIEW – 5 stars!

Banger and Easton are so perfect for each other!

Lani Lynn Vale has delivered another great, page-turning read! Suspense, action, steamy scenes, and moments that made me laugh out loud. It has it all.

Easton went from FBI agent to walking more in the shadows, and it’s a good thing because that’s exactly what Banger needs. Easton will do anything for her, and she adores him in return. They were so cute together!

Add in a stalker who causes trouble for the couple, especially Banger, scenes that will fog your e-reader, and a few scenes with the Battle Crows MC, and I was hooked. I didn’t want to put it down once I started reading.

Can’t wait to see what happens next…

*Disclaimer: I received an ARC in exchange for an honest review. The review above is only my opinion.

BOOK TOUR: Calla’s Candy (The Flowers of Avenel) by Karen Tjebben #contemporaryromance @RABTBookTours @KTjebbenAuthor #RABTBookTours

The Flowers of Avenel  Book 5

Contemporary Romance

Date Published: 05-31-2022

 

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Sugar flows through Calla Taylor’s veins, so owning her own candy
shop is her dream come true. She has independence and the chance to surround
herself with her passion… candy. But life in Avenel, a small island
town, has its challenges. The summer’s hurricane season hit her hard,
and now that winter has begun, she’s not sure Calla’s Candy can
hold out until the warmer temperatures lure tourists back to the
beaches.

Ash Singh has it all: good looks, a charming personality, and a pile of
money that just continues to grow. He also has a broken heart. Because of
the hellish way his last relationship ended, he wasn’t sure he could
ever love again. But meeting Calla changed everything. It started small.
When she smiled, the jagged edges of his heart found their match and sealed
together. Her laugh revived a pulse that sent need and desire through his
soul. But when he held her in his arms as they danced, he felt something he
hadn’t felt in a long time. Hope.

But one thoughtless act cuts Calla to the core and threatens the hope that
took root in Ash’s soul. He sets out to not only save his relationship
with Calla, but he vows to save Calla’s Candy too.

 

Excerpt

Excited jitters ran through Calla as she sat next to the gorgeous man she’d instantly believed to be out of her league. She wasn’t good at flirting. She didn’t bar hop in hopes of finding a man. And just a few bad dates arranged on the internet had cured her of her willingness to give the web a try.

In her heart, she knew that she wasn’t the type of woman that a man of his looks went for, but it would be fun to pretend they had chemistry while at the wedding reception.

Ashwin twisted his torso so he could look directly at the beauty. He rested one arm on the back of his chair and leaned towards her. He said, “If you don’t mind me saying, you make that dress look amazing.” Once the words were out, he knew they sounded cheesy, but her beauty and that dress had his brain spinning. The lack of sleep mixed with the whiskey he’d already consumed didn’t help either.

Calla blushed, embarrassed by the praise, and a little shocked. She’d been nervous about wearing such a glamorous dress to the wedding since she didn’t want to be overdressed, but when she spotted this dress at the Goodwill on the mainland, she knew she had to have it. She’d paid less for this Oscar worthy dress than a t-shirt at Target.

She loved everything about the dress. The soft velvet fabric, the deep burgundy color felt regal, and the miraculous truth that despite the dress fitting her like a glove, she didn’t feel pudgy in it. Somehow, the dress minimized her love handles. Her working theory on that miracle was that the dress maximized her ample breasts which then drew attention away from her muffin top. In this dress, no one would even notice her waistline.

But in this dress, she felt beautiful. Not only beautiful, but worthy of thinking of herself as beautiful. She knew that didn’t make sense. A dress or her appearance didn’t make her worthy of thinking positively about herself, but she couldn’t deny that she felt amazing.

Wrapped in the rich fabric, it was almost like she’d shed the chrysalis of modesty and accepted herself for the gorgeous butterfly that she is. She wanted to be looked at… admired… cherished. And her heart raced a little faster when the hunger in his eyes lapped over her.

Was this what if felt like to irresistible?

“Thank you,” she replied. God, she could feel herself getting turned on. She hadn’t felt that fluttering of lust in her core for too long. His confidence and self-assuredness touched her primal needs. And with his looks, even the married women were staring at him.

Her breathing hitched and she willed herself under control. “You look quite dapper yourself, Mr. Sing.”

He ran a hand down the lapel of his suit jacket. “This old thing,” he teased with a confident wink. He was used to dressing to perfection. His parents had instilled in him the belief that first impressions mattered, and that people did judge a book by its cover. That was just the way the world worked. He’d been skilled in the ways to impress and wow the people that he met.

Calla bit the inside of her lip. She didn’t want to say anything stupid. This gorgeous man turned her thoughts to mush. She wanted to run her fingers through his black hair. She couldn’t decide if his hair was wavy or curly. But his eyes stole the show. Those brown eyes had hints of a lighter color swirling in them. Was it blue or green? She couldn’t say for sure, but his eyelashes worked overtime summoning her attention. They were the kind of eyelashes that women paid good money for.

His kissable full lips demanded their share of attention too. Her stomach fluttered at the thought of his lips pressing against hers. God, just the thought gave her goose bumps. Their fullness gave her the impression of strength and boldness. Would they feel like an intimate caress as they traveled over her body?

“You can call me Ash. May I call you Calla?” he replied. “That’s a beautiful name.”

“Yes, and thank you.” The deep tones of his words resonated over her and awoke the butterflies within her. She dug her nail into the skin around her thumbnail, hoping the discomfort would settle her attention on something other than how amazingly hot he was and how nervous

that made her.

He cleared his throat and continued, “Calla… How did you end up named after a flower?”

She gave him a coy smile with a raised brow. “I’m impressed that you know that.” Most men had no clue that Calla was a type of lily. “That’s a funny story. I’m lucky I didn’t end up being named Bird of Paradise,” she chuckled.

He liked the sound of her giggle, friendly and sweet, pleasing to his ears. “Then please tell me.” He leaned closer, “And by the way, you could totally pull off Paradise for a name.”

She laughed, thankful that her name wasn’t Paradise. Middle school and high school had been bad enough. With a name like Paradise, her life would have been hell.

About the Author

Karen Tjebben lives in central Georgia with her wonderful husband and twin
daughters. She loves traveling the world. Whether it’s to the heights of
Yosemite, the white sands of the Caribbean, or even Down Under, she’s always
ready to pack a bag in search of inspiration. She enjoys creating worlds
filled with unique characters that will delight and raise goose bumps on her
readers.

 

Contact Links

Facebook

Twitter

Goodreads

 

Purchase Link

Amazon

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BOOK BLITZ: Keys of Time by Georgiana Kent #YoungAdult #UrbanFantasy KeysOfTime #SoulDominion @GeorgianaKent8 @MagicPenTours

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Welcome to Magic Pen Book Tours‘ organized book blitz for Keys of Time by Georgiana Kent taking place July 11-15, 2022! The first book in the YA urban fantasy time traveling series of Soul Dominion. Perfect for readers who like a heady mix of adventure, fantasy, mystery and romance.
Cover Keys of Time by Georgiana Kent
Title: Keys of Time
Series: Soul Dominion #1
Author: Georgiana Kent
Genre/Tropes: Young Adult, Urban Fantasy, Romance / Time Travel
Release Date: August 2, 2021
BLURB

Erica has a secret, a curse she’s been hiding her whole life. And now it’s only a matter of time before her cover is blown.

No longer satisfied to lurk in the shadows, the Lost Souls are seeking dominance over the Earth. Somehow, they have managed to navigate the age-old barriers that have kept them apart from mankind.

Chosen by Time, Erica works with the KeyMaster, Michael Nicholas, to uncover the truth and it quickly becomes apparent that her secret might give them the edge they need. But will they be in time to stop the growing army of Lost Souls?

Welcome to Georgiana Kent’s KeyMaster Chronicles: a diverse world where KeyMasters, quondams, and Færies collide in mankind’s fight for survival. Perfect for fans of epic urban fantasies!

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PURCHASE LINKS
Free in Kindle Unlimited from July 18, 2022
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EXCERPT

The glare of the light lessened and, blinking quickly, she peered to find a doorway before her. It was made of light that crackled and pulsed like electricity. Through it Erica could see London, but a different London, one with horses and carriages upon its cobbled streets and men and women walking about in smart jackets and top hats, long dresses and warm shawls: the crack that had opened the doorway started at her footfall. Taking her foot away, the light crackled anew. She walked slowly around the side of the monument to look at the street behind it, but there were no horses or carriages or smartly dressed people, just the deserted Embankment. She walked back round to the front of the monument where the doorway persisted to flicker brightly.

Recalling herself, she spun round. “Oh, no…”

Michael was standing stock-still and his eyes were no longer sad but wide with shock.

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AUTHOR BIO
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Georgiana Kent has always been creative and loves telling stories of fantasy worlds filled with magic, mystic and more. She is currently writing two young adult series set in her KeyMaster Chronicles universe: KeyMaster Origins and Soul Dominion are urban fantasies on an epic scale. Filled with a host of strong, diverse characters waiting for you to fall in love with.
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RELEASE BLITZ: Space Stars by Mell Eight #SciFi #LGBTQ #pornstar @ninestarpress @GoIndiMarketing

Title: Space Stars

Author: Mell eight

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 07/05/2022

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 37800

Genre: Science Fiction, LGBTQIA+, space travel, robotics, musicians, celebrities, established couple, spies, secret agents, nerds, scientists, porn star/sex industry

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Description

This book is two short stories with one thing in common—the stars in space shine brightly, whether you’re on planet or soaring on a ship.

Cole’s star is rising like a rocket as his band tours the galaxies to sing to their adoring fans. Except, Cole’s real job isn’t lead vocals—it’s espionage.

Tarle’s star fell long ago after a horrific accident during a mecha showcase event for his new robot. Then he meets Aster, a porn star on the run. Hiding away together is far more appealing than being alone, but no one can hide forever.

Excerpt

Space Stars
Mell Eight © 2022
All Rights Reserved

“They’re definitely building something dangerous,” J said to begin the meeting as he walked into the spacious, albeit bland, room. There weren’t any windows, and the only ornamentation on the white walls was from the holoprojector across the room. He faced a long table with six chairs around it. All six were filled with stone-faced men and women who turned toward J when he stopped walking at the head of the table.

J touched the control panel for the holoscreen to turn the machine on and pointed out the building construction clearly visible from the spy satellite holograph that appeared seconds later.

“Planets have new construction all the time,” P cut in as she pushed her glasses higher up her nose. “With growing populations it’s inevitable, and planet 501b is certainly growing.”

“Look here,” J said as he pointed to the upper right-hand corner of the three-dimensional picture. The projector obligingly zoomed in to the location.

“Ah,” P murmured as she sank back into her seat. “Building a crono-generator is another thing entirely. But what could it be for? They’ve never been a particularly peaceful people,” she said, referencing 501b’s penchant for starting wars over the merest of slights, “but they’ve never been crazy enough to build a crono-bomb before. That could create a black hole large enough to engulf an entire galaxy!”

“How long have you had this picture?” Y asked slowly while he carefully studied the crono-generator.

J sighed. “Long enough that officials on 501b have already captured and executed six of our spies during their investigations of this issue. That’s why this task force was called to meet today. We need to find a way to infiltrate 501b to figure out if they have any plans to attack.”

“They did threaten the galaxy president two months ago in response to the president’s comments against their most recent war,” P mused.

“It’s more dire than just that,” Y said in his slow and contemplative voice. “As you all know, 501b is not actually a planet. Planet 501 was uninhabitable; only its second moon, known by the locals as Kamura, could sustain human life.”

“Moon settlements are always in desperate need of water resources.” P gasped as the full picture finally came clear for her.

“Exactly,” J cut in. “Our planet, 214, also known as Lacustrine, is almost entirely comprised of freshwater lakes, which 501b dearly needs, and our intelligence says they’re interested in acquiring. I’m afraid they don’t have any qualms about what methods they use either. So, the question remains: How do we infiltrate Kamura in order to find more information and, if necessary, destroy their crono-generator before they’re capable of building the bomb?”

P’s phone went off, a pop song currently topping the charts sounding into the worried and contemplative silence left after that final statement. One frequency was all that could reach through the protections built into the meeting room, and P’s phone only went off in an emergency anyway, so no one begrudged her the time she took to walk into the corner and answer her phone.

She didn’t turn on the holograph card to speak face-to-face, which was no surprise considering the nature of her clients, and everyone in the room tried not to listen in when she murmured into the phone. They all had something much more important to think about anyway: the answer to J’s question.

After a few seconds, P returned to her seat. J looked around at the assemblage, waiting for someone to finally say something.

L slowly tapped her finger on the table, and everyone’s attention turned to the elderly woman. L didn’t speak often, but when she did, they listened. This time was no different.

“We must use an unconventional means to sneak our spy in, and I do believe P’s impromptu phone call has given me an interesting idea. Popular music stars are welcomed across all galaxies. Often, they are begged to hold a performance on various worlds. We should put together a band, make them famous, and arrange for them to travel to 501b.”

J joined the others in giving L perplexed looks, but a smile slowly began to grow across his face. The idea was extremely farfetched, yet the very thought of how crazy a plan L had come up with decided him. If he didn’t think the idea viable, then how could anyone on 501b have plans to prevent it?

“That…” He paused to savor the idea a little further. “That is the most perfect plan I have ever heard.” He turned to the other members of the council. “What do we need to do to accomplish this?”

“A band, first of all,” P murmured. “That means at the very least a singer, a guitar player, a bass player, and a drummer if we want something conventional.”

“They’ll need a hit song,” Y added. “And a full album.”

“And good publicity,” P agreed. “I can get them a spot on the Morning Mumble, which will put them into the limelight, but the band has to be capable of proving their abilities, or they’ll go nowhere afterward.”

“So first we need a band,” J stated. “Any suggestions on who we could hire? We need people with musical talent, so we may have to go outside our regular recruits for this one.”

P nodded immediately. “The Star Slashers recently broke up and their drummer is pretty good. He also played for the Black-Hole Surfers,” she added when she received only blank looks. The Star Slashers had never been destined for greatness, but the Black-Hole Surfers had been legendary up until their singer and lead guitarist had overdosed on poorly cut and excessively laced Star Shine and the band dissolved. “His name is Kingsley,” she finished with a smile, “and he’s from this galaxy, so he’d probably be willing to work with us.”

J hummed thoughtfully. “We’ll start background checks on this Kingsley. Any other suggestions?”

L leaned forward with a groan. “I have a grandchild who promised me he would become a rock god by the time he turns thirty,” she said with quite a bit of exasperation in her voice. Her son worked for the agency, and she evidently expected her grandchild to do so as well. That didn’t seem to be in her grandson’s plans. “Solomon plays guitar and his mother tells me he’s quite good. I suppose if the ambition is present, we could give him this opportunity.”

“We have guitar and drums,” J said. “Any suggestions for the other roles? Can you think of any trained recruits we could call in to take the major roles in this operation?”

“It’s not a suggestion,” P cut in, “but we have to find a singer who is pitch-perfect without modifications or he won’t make it. We can’t just pull anyone from our basic training program and implant electronic vocal cords.”

“This is going to be an interesting search, then,” J said with a sigh. Not only did they need a band, but they also needed to find someone who could infiltrate the secret facilities on 501b without getting caught. It wasn’t going to be easy.

The meeting broke up soon afterward. P was the first person to rush out, her phone in hand. Whatever emergency she’d been called about must have been important. Considering P’s clients…well, J hoped there wasn’t a galaxy about to implode somewhere.

Z was J’s colleague from the same agency. He hadn’t spoken during the meeting, but Z was notorious for pulling J aside later to voice his thoughts. J wasn’t surprised when Z joined him in his walk down the empty hallways of the building.

“I might have an idea for a bass player,” Z murmured in his usual half-audible tone. “She’s a spitfire though. Barely passed her basic training before she quit, so I’ve no idea if the girl would like the idea, or if she’s what we want for this mission.”

“Submit her name and have a background check run,” J replied. “We’ll find some way to convince her and…” He paused, his head cocked to the side. One hand flashed upward to grip Z’s arm. “Do you hear that?” he asked excitedly.

Z tilted his head to listen and slowly nodded. “It’s probably a radio someone left on.” He sighed. “But it won’t hurt to go see.”

They both turned the corner, following the sound of someone singing. The door to the men’s locker room was left partially ajar, and J pushed it open the rest of the way so he and Z could walk into the space. J expected to see a holodisk left on inside one of the recruits’ lockers, so he was surprised when a young man, fresh from the showers with his back to J and Z, had his head tilted back and his mouth wide open as he sang.

His tone was pure and clean—perfect.

He was drying his brown hair with a towel, his eyelids closed. His naked back was thin but well sculpted, although the loose pants he wore hid his lower body from J’s perusal. A pair of old-fashioned Coke-bottle glasses sat on the bench next to him.

There were two gyms attached to the locker room, one for the regular staff and one for the special recruits. This far into after-hours, only the special recruits had access. Whoever the man was, he piqued J’s interest.

J glanced over at Z and saw that Z was just as mesmerized by the beautiful singing. Z finally glanced back over and nodded. Whoever the recruit was, he was about to be given a new mission.

The singing stopped as the young man finally finished drying his hair. He put his towel down and patted his hand across the bench until he found his glasses. Then he turned around to find his shirt and jumped when he caught sight of J and Z.

“Sorry,” the young man said, his face rapidly going red as he ducked his head. He got to his feet in a hurry, finding parade rest with his feet even though he was staring at the ground instead of facing straight forward.

“Not at all,” J replied. He stepped closer to the recruit, studying him closely for a long moment, which only made his face grow even redder. “What are your vitals, recruit?” J finally asked.

“Name: Cole! Just finished basic training two days ago, sir!” Cole said sharply, even though he still wouldn’t look J directly in the face. He had been trained well, if not perfectly. “I haven’t been assigned to a vector yet, sir.”

J glanced over at Z after that admission. Normally recruits knew their vector location a good few months before the end of their training. He was also still using his full name rather than a code name, which he would have been given as part of his first vector assignment. Z nodded discreetly. He would start a background check on Cole to figure out what had prevented normal procedure in his case.

“Thank you, Cole,” J said with a dismissive nod. “We’ll be in touch.”

J and Z walked off, leaving behind the man who was to become their lead singer.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

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.

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RELEASE BLITZ: Music From Stone by Brenda Murphy #LGBTQ #ContemporaryRomance #BDSM @ninestarpress @GoIndiMarketing

Title: Music from Stone

Series: University Square, Book Four

Author: Brenda Murphy

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 07/05/2022

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 67900

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, Romance, contemporary, family-drama, BDSM, interracial, lesbian, stone mason, concert pianist, stalker, PTSD, over 40, performance arts, visual arts

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Description

Celebrated concert pianist Nüwa Zhou had it all. Until she didn’t. Forced out of the closet while testifying at the kidnapping and murder trial of her obsessive former assistant turned stalker, she retires from the high-pressure world of performing to recover at her parents’ estate.

Stone mason, and frustrated sculptor Julia Johnson, spends her days stone building walls and patios while dreaming of quitting her day job.

After a chance encounter with Julia leads to more, Nüwa imagines a life with Julia. When her stalker returns, determined to kidnap Nüwa and end anyone who stands in his way, Nüwa will do whatever it takes to keep Julia safe, but will it be enough?

Excerpt

Music from Stone
Brenda Murphy © 2022
All Rights Reserved

“Who is Father talking to?” Nüwa Zhou stared out of the sliding door at the woman standing on the terrace, her short auburn hair a mass of curls that brushed the tops of her broad shoulders. Her stance was confident. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt tight enough it drew Nüwa’s attention, she rested her hands on her hips across from Gerald Zhou. Her wide shoulders and sculpted arms tested the limits of the fabric of her shirt. Afforded the opportunity to stare openly, Nüwa savored the view, admiring the curves the woman’s loose jeans failed to conceal. Slightly taller than Nüwa’s father in her thick-soled work boots, the woman glanced back at the house. Nüwa held steady, confident the reflective window coating would hide her gawking.

“Former student. Inquiring about the cottage,” her mother called from the kitchen bar.

Nüwa tugged the belt of her robe tighter. “Early for a meeting.”

The not-so-subtle sound of her mother’s scoff drifted across the kitchen. Nüwa rested her chin on her chest. The unspoken scolding for sleeping late pricked Nüwa’s heart. A night owl born to a family of larks. Her sleep patterns had been her curse since childhood.

She lifted her gaze back to the scene outside.

Gerald Zhou stood close to the woman, occasionally gesturing to the yard and the firethorn maze covering the lower half of their estate. Wind pushed dark heavy clouds across the sky and a gust rattled the sliding door in its dull aluminum frame. He turned and pointed to the house. Nüwa stepped back and away from the glass into the shadows of the living room. She walked to the counter dividing the kitchen from the rest of the house.

“Have you eaten?” Her mother glanced up from her laptop screen.

Nüwa took a breath and blew it out. “Not hungry.”

A frown creased her mother’s sculpted eyebrows. “Don’t forget to eat.” Her gaze shifted to the window. “Your father needs to wrap it up. I don’t like the color of the sky.”

Nüwa perched on one of the stools at the counter and glanced at the sky. A green hue tinged the dark clouds. “It’s ugly.”

Fat drops of rain hit the glass as the peal of a weather warning spit out of her mother’s ever-present phone. Nüwa’s stomach twisted as adrenaline surged in her body. Storms were the worst. Lightning flashed. Nüwa placed her hands flat on the counter and started counting silently.

“Four. Not far away.”

The click of the computer keys increased. “I need to get these figures to Rowan.” Her mother continued to pound the keyboard as another flash of lightning lit up the kitchen with a sick yellow glare.

The skin on Nüwa’s arms prickled. The grate of the sliding door in its tracks sounded in the room a second before a crash of thunder rattled the house.

“Three.” Nüwa turned to the sliding door. “It’s moving toward us.”

“It’s crazy out there. Wait it out with us.” Gerald touched the arm of the woman from the terrace. “You remember my wife, Lian Tan? I don’t think you’ve met my daughter. Nüwa, this is Julia.”

“Hi Ms. Tan, nice to see you again. Nice to meet you, Nüwa.” Julia inclined her head to greet Nüwa’s mother before she turned and met Nüwa’s gaze.

Nüwa stared at Julia, the thin wet fabric of the T-shirt even more distracting now Julia was standing in front of her. “You’re wet.” Her face burned as soon as the words were out of her mouth. “I mean—” She scrambled around the end of the counter, snatched a clean dish towel from the basket next to the sink. “Here.” Nüwa held the towel out with both hands.

The tips of Julia’s fingers brushed the back of Nüwa’s hand as she took the towel from her. “Thank you.” She held Nüwa’s gaze for a moment, the hint of a smile twisting her lips before she dried her face.

Nüwa studied the tops of her house shoes and knotted her hands together as an awkward silence sucked the ease out of the moment. She crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself, knowing she was acting weird, helpless to stop it.

The faint sound of a tornado siren spared Nüwa further torment.

“Basement.” Lian stood, tucked her laptop and a thick folder under her arm, before she walked to the end of the counter. She pressed the series of buttons under the countertop. The end of the cabinet slid aside revealing a stairwell. Gerald followed Lian.

Nüwa slid off the stool and followed her parents down the stairs leading to the storm cellar. She ducked her head as she entered the stairway. “Watch your head,” Nüwa called over her shoulder.

Heavy tread on the stairs behind her and the faint scent of lavender and sunscreen tickled Nüwa’s nose as Julia followed her to the safe room. Halfway down the steps, the lights flickered out, plunging the stairwell and room below into blackness.

“Damn it. Gerald, where did you put the lantern?”

“Use your phone.”

“Left it on the counter, and didn’t we talk about this? Use your phone.”

Her parents shifted their bickering to Mandarin. Nüwa prayed Julia didn’t understand as they devolved into one of their ongoing arguments.

Nüwa extended her hand behind her, and her fingers bushed the soft denim of Julia’s jean. “Take my hand. Stay close. The stairs turn here.”

Julia clasped her hand. Her broad callused palm rested against Nüwa’s hand. Nüwa led Julia down the stairs and toward the sound of her parents arguing. As they reached the bottom of the stairs the harsh light of an electric lantern flared to life, throwing twisted shadows over the walls.

Gerald closed off the door leading to the rest of the basement, sealing them in the long narrow windowless room. “There. Nüwa, lock the door behind you.”

Nüwa threw the deadbolt and sealed the door leading up to the kitchen.

Lian stood at the far end of the room, the glower on her face matching the ferocity of the storm. Arms crossed, she lifted her chin as she observed Nüwa and Julia. Her gaze landed squarely on their clasped hands.

Julia squeezed Nüwa’s hand once, then released it. “Thank you.”

Lian turned away from Nüwa, picked up a yellow wireless radio, and shoved it into Gerald’s hands. “Get the weather radio working.”

The echo of hail pelting the house increased in volume and drowned out Gerald’s reply. A roaring sound filled Nüwa’s ears, a steady hum. The hairs on her arm stood on end. Pressure in her ears increased to the point of pain and she swallowed, trying to clear them.

The ceiling over their head creaked and groaned as the vibration intensified. The house shook, rattling the shelves holding the food and water they kept stored in the small room. Nüwa wrapped her arms around herself to stop her trembling. Cans of food vibrated off the shelves and crashed to the floor, wrenching a cry from her, and she covered her eyes.

A warm hand settled on the middle of her back. Nüwa jerked away from the touch and bit down on her lip to stifle her yelp. The roaring increased, as if a train was bearing down on them. Nüwa dropped to her knees, covered her head with her arms, and folded herself into the smallest ball possible. The thin carpet over the concrete did nothing to ease her knees and sharp pain lanced through her. Her breathing was rough in her ears as her fear turned in on itself and drove every other thought from her mind. In the space of seconds, the patter of the hail softened, and the roaring stopped, leaving a heavy silence behind.

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Meet the Author

Brenda Murphy (she/her) writes erotic romance. Her most recent novel, Double Six, is the 2020 Golden Crown Literary Society winner for Erotic Novels, and Knotted Legacy, the third book in the Rowan House series, made the 2018 The Lesbian Review’s Top 100 Vacation Reads list. You can catch her musings on writing, books, and living with wicked ADHD on her blog Writing While Distracted. She loves sideshows and tattoos and yes, those are her monkeys. When she is not loitering at her local library, she wrangles twins, one dog, and an unrepentant parrot

I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it.

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Leningrad: The People’s War by Rachel R. Heil #HistoricalFiction #WorldWarII #Leningrad #BlogTour #CoffeePotBookClub @HeilRachelR @maryanneyarde

Leningrad: The People’s War

(Leningrad, Book 1)

By Rachel R. Heil

Leningrad, 1941. As Europe crumbles under the German war machine, the people of the Soviet Union watch. There are whispers of war but not loud enough for the civilians of Leningrad to notice. Instead, they keep their heads down and try to avoid the ever-watching eyes of their own oppressive government.

University student Tatiana Ivankova tries to look ahead to the future after a family tragedy that characterizes life under the brutal regime. But, when the rumors that have been circulating the country become a terrifying reality, Tatiana realizes that the greatest fear may not be the enemy but what her fellow citizens are prepared to do to each other to survive.

As his men plow through the Russian countryside, Heinrich Nottebohm is told to follow orders and ask no questions, even if such commands go against his own principles. His superiors hold over him a past event that continues to destroy him with every day that passes. But, when given the opportunity to take an act of defiance, Heinrich will jump at the chance, ignoring what the end results could be.

Leningrad: The Peoples War tells the harrowing beginning of a war that forever changed the landscape of a city, told through the eyes of both sides in a tale of courage, love, and sacrifice.

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Leningrad: The People’s War is the first book in a three-book seriesand depicts events in Leningrad from June to December, 1941. Following Russian university student Tatiana Ivankova and German military commander Heinrich Nottebohm, the story of the Siege of Leningrad is told from both the Russian and German perspective and explores how Leningrad and her people became a symbol of resilience and strength.

I’ve been fascinated with history for as long as I can remember and World War Two has been one of my main points of interest for just as long. While I am interested with learning facts about major battles I’ve always been drawn to personal stories of those who lived, fought, and survived. Stories that depict the hardships of war but also the resilience of ordinary civilians has always drawn me in and this can be clearly seen in stories concerning the Siege of Leningrad.

IMAGE CREDIT IS BORIS KUDOYAROV, VIA WIKIMEDIA COMMONS
“Leningraders clearing rubble following an air raid, 1 May 1942.”

The encirclement of Leningrad in the Soviet Union lasted 872 days and remains one of the longest sieges in history. While countless civilians and military personnel lost their lives defending Leningrad, many others survived to share their stories with future generations, even when the government attempted to silence them. Within hours of reading some of the facts of the siege I was sketching out an outline of a story that would depict the event from start to finish.

Research can be a meticulous process but I enjoy it. It serves as the foundation of your story and sometimes can inspire events that will transpire in your narrative. Yet, the research process for the Siege of Leningrad was a bit more difficult than I had anticipated. Unlike Stalin’s purge in the 1930s, the Holodomor, and the Gulag system, information and educational resources on the Siege of Leningrad is far less extensive. Quite a bit of this can be contributed to the fact that the Soviet government did everything they could to eliminate the disaster of Leningrad from people’s memory.

While the city had not fallen the cost of human life to defend it was atrocious and stories of Party officials refusing to let citizens flee Leningrad when they had the chance or the lack of action taken to get food to those stuck in the city had to be silenced. It is not difficult to imagine that a lot of valuable documents pertaining to the siege were destroyed or remain locked up in Russian archives. For example, we don’t have an exact death toll of those who died in Leningrad. Soviet authorities ultimately admitted at the Nuremberg war crime trials that 632,253 people lost their lives in Leningrad but most scholars agree the number is far higher than what the Soviet government admitted. Historians have provided theories based on the information we do have available, such as survivors’ accounts and population numbers from before the war, but they can’t be entirely accurate due to the influx of refugees who came to Leningrad and those who did manage to get out the city before the encirclement. We also have evidence of physical reminders of the siege like manuscripts, artwork, and captured German equipment like Tiger tanks and canons that were initially displayed in a Leningrad museum immediately after the war but were then taken away and have never been seen since.

IMAGE CREDIT IS BORIS KUDOYAROV, VIA WIKIPEDIA
“Leningraders leaving their destroyed homes following German bombardment, December 1942. These individuals were among the lucky ones who survived the first winter of the siege.”

Survivors who dared speak out about their experiences were silenced either by being imprisoned or in some cases executed. Survivors of the siege were treated as second class citizens and were seen as an embarrassment. Vainly, they tried to keep the memory of the siege alive with varying success but were ultimately ignored or shrugged off as just another group of people who experience hardships during the war. As a result of this persecution and lack of understanding, many Leningraders were tight lipped about their experiences, something that has thankfully diminished when Mikhail Gorbachev opened the archives in the 1980s, allowing previously repressed survivors to tell their stories. Within weeks newspapers were being filled with Leningraders telling their stories, revealing tales of losing all their family members and friends, starving through the first winter, and yet still not losing hope for final victory. Their tales of survival in the face of impossible odds are ones that should be continually told and helped serve as the basis of the Russian characters in Leningrad.

Though resources were scarce, I found that the ones that did exist were rich with detail. Journalist Harrison Salisbury, who wrote the first account of the siege, was able to correspond with several survivors who gave their vivid memories for Salisbury to immortalize. Likewise, historian Anna Reid has been able to incorporate information that was previously not available but opened on Gorbachev’s orders to provide some of the missing pieces to the Leningrad puzzle. Finally, the survivors who were finally able to voice their stories paint a picture of a group of people who would not be so easily defeated and should serve as inspirations for all of us.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Rachel R. Heil is a historical fiction writer who always dreamed of being an author. After years of dreaming, she finally decided to turn this dream into a reality with her first novel, and series, Behind the Darkened Glass. Rachel is an avid history fan, primarily focused on twentieth century history and particularly World War Two-era events. In addition to her love for history, Rachel loves following the British Royal Family and traveling the world, which only opens the door to learning more about a country’s history. Rachel resides in Wisconsin.

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Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Rachel-R-Heil/e/B07MY8DZT8

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18802162.Rachel_R_Heil

BOOK BLITZ: Spells and Slip-Ups by Annie Anderson #PNR #UrbanFantasy @XpressoTours @annieande

Spells and Slip-ups
Annie Anderson
(The Wrong Witch, #1)
Publication date: July 5th 2022
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Urban Fantasy

I suck at witchcraft.

Coming from a long line of famous witches, I should be at the top of the heap. Problem is, if there is a spell cast anywhere in my vicinity, I will somehow mess it up. As a probationary agent with the Arcane Bureau of Investigation, I have two choices: I can limp along and maybe pass myself off as a competent agent, or I can fail. Miserably.

Worse news? If I can’t get my act together, I may not only be out of a job, I could also lose my life.

Whose idea was this again?

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EXCERPT:

“Get out,” he barked, crossing his beefy arms over his substantial belly. “Ain’t no way I’m gonna let a Bannister tromp all over my shop. Who knows what you’ll break?”

Not that half the shit in this hovel wasn’t broken already, but still, tears prickled at my eyes. Gritting my teeth against the sting, I managed to stand my ground. This wasn’t the first time I’d been kicked out of a witch shop, and given my history, it wouldn’t be the last.

“Please,” I begged, reaching inside my bag for the wad of cash. Ellie and I had planned on moving in together after college, but here we were two years post-graduation, with no apartment in sight. Unearthing the fistful of bills, I held them in front of me to ward off my ousting. “I can pay.”

His gaze snagged on the money in my hand, and he licked his chops. By the looks of this place, Mr. Jones hadn’t seen a paying customer in longer than I’d been alive. “What? You stub your toe or somethin’? I ain’t wasting my time on no silly girl with a hangnail.”

Don’t back talk the healer, Wren. Don’t do it.

“It’s not for me, you judgmental ass. It’s for my best friend’s mom. Do you really think I’d be tromping through here looking for you if it was something I could fix with a nail clipper and a manicurist? I’m liable to get tetanus in this heap.” Gnashing my teeth, I took a deep breath, doing my damnedest to not start screaming. “It’s systemic organ failure. Can you fix that?”

Carmichael narrowed his eyes. “Your friend’s mom. Not your mom?” A slow smile pulled across his lips, exposing yellowed teeth and a fair amount of tooth decay. “You have my interest. What class is your friend’s mother? She a witch like you or…”

This was the sticking point. If I couldn’t get him to agree, Alice had no hope. It wasn’t like I could bribe my way into my mother’s good graces or beg my father.

“Human,” I breathed, praying he wouldn’t make a fuss.

He simply blinked at me for a solid thirty seconds. “I’m sorry—what was that?”

Stomping through the piles of junk, I slapped the money on the counter before reaching into my bag for the second roll of bills. It was my entire savings. Everything I’d squirreled away to set myself up. It wasn’t just an apartment I was getting. It was a chance.

But it meant nothing if Alice wasn’t breathing.

“She’s human,” I hissed. “Are you gonna help me or not?” The bank teller had audibly squawked when I’d pulled every dime from my account, her face purpling when I’d asked for it in cash.

Carmichael reached for the bills, but I slapped his hand before he could get within an inch. “Are you helping, or am I going to have to go down to the River Walk and deal with them?”

The “them” in question were the Fae, and I had no intention of dealing with that sort at all. Ever. Making deals with fairies was tantamount to jumping off a cliff with piranhas, sharks, and razor-sharp rocks at the bottom. Anyone who had ever made a fairy deal regretted it, and I wouldn’t be making the same mistake.

Luckily, my poker face was top-notch—otherwise Carmichael would have seen right through my bluff.

“What you’re asking for is illegal, you know.”

Author Bio:

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

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NEW RELEASE: Dream Gate by Mikala Ash #steampunk #SciFiRomance @ash_mikala

Dreams are magical. They make anything possible-passion, alternate worlds, even the death of empires.

Can love bloom where deadly danger rules?

After the attack on her home and family, Faerie witch Lady Carlyle is taken in by the gallant Captain Justin Quin. Together they investigate the sacrificial murder of a scientist connected to the defense of the British empire.

With the assistance of Dr. Keane, demon witch, Lady Julia Molyneux furthers her bloody attempts at redemption, while Lord Lucian Carlyle continues his obsessive quest to visit alternate worlds. At risk is the centre of empire, the teeming metropolis of London itself, where the innocent will pay with their souls the price of unbridled ambition.

Now Available at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Mikala Ash

Lady Julia Molyneux’s Diary

The border between pleasure and pain, it has been said, is hair thin, and one woman’s titillation is another man’s torment.

The man in question lay naked on the vast mahogany desk and whimpered in a most piteous manner. Like a wounded animal his nostrils flared with each fearful breath, though I believe his reaction to be premature, his ordeal had not yet begun. Spittle and white flecks of foam coated the gag that stretched across his jaw, and glistening tears leaked from his sad grey eyes. His struggles against the ropes that bound his hands and feet to the desk’s stout legs had weakened, but not before breaking the skin at his wrists and ankles. Crimson globules trickled rhythmically to the carpet keeping time with the fellow’s accelerated pulse. The metallic stench tickled my nostrils and tingled at the back of my throat. I licked my lips in perverted anticipation, tasting his fear.

The man, Dr. Ramsay Warren of Harley Street, catered to the highest echelons of society including the Queen herself. I easily understood why, for he was a fine specimen of masculinity. Clearly a sportsman, trim and muscled, his clean-shaven face tanned, his calves and thighs strong and well defined, his hips narrow and his stomach banded by muscle. Had I been so inclined, and if circumstances had been different, he might have proved an interesting bed partner. Unfortunately his current predicament did not allow him the opportunity to display his manly attributes to their best advantage. Indeed, the pink head of his manhood, terrified into timidity, peeked shyly from the thick thatch of black curly hair. Out of curiosity I stroked the wrinkled worm, and in response it retracted even further into itself, and all but disappeared.

I tut-tutted with disappointment and Dr. Warren’s pathetic whine became a hopeless drawn-out moan. Gone now was his arrogant challenge when first we entered his laboratory, the bluster of his deep imperial voice now a distant memory. Beside me, Dr. Ernest Neale, my partner in this appalling deed, recited the litany of the man’s crimes in a voice pitched unnaturally high betraying his own elevated state of arousal. This was his first sacrifice, and the zealous manner in which he embraced the ritual surprised me exceedingly. His usual demeanour, when fulfilling his role as alienist attending to the mental hurts of his patients, was one of calm and seemingly infinite patience, yet now the bulging eyes, the tight set of the jaw, and the saliva collecting at the corner of his mouth as he addressed our victim suggested a passion I’d not hitherto suspected.

“You bring deep and irredeemable shame to our profession,” he continued, his voice bordering on the hysterical. “You sir, are a venal swine!”

“Calm yourself, Ernest,” I whispered in his ear. His Christian name sounded unnatural. For months he had been wise Dr. Neale, the font of self-knowledge, who had provided me a measure of solace I’d not thought possible. Our recent intimacy had created a certain awkwardness in my mind.

He glanced at me and held my gaze for a long moment before giving me a slight embarrassed nod. He took a deep breath and shifted his eyes to look at Dr. Warren again as he continued in a more measured and slightly less feverish voice. “You willingly used your authority to commit six sane women to mental asylums so their husbands could access their fortunes. These women subsequently died after years of unspeakable degradation and neglect.”

Despicable indeed. Though to be honest I did not care about the man’s crimes. I had needed someone of importance in this world to sacrifice to my demon goddess. Tana was displeased with me, and I strove to mollify her. I’d meddled in the machinations of Sir Myles Stafford whose harassment of Lady Carlyle and her family had drawn in my dear Justin. I could not suffer him being hurt, so I’d asserted myself on her behalf. Tana, an ancient and single-minded demon, demanded her witches to deliver unto her souls sweetened by pain and fear. It was at Dr. Neale’s urgings, and my need to take a half-step in the direction of redemption, that I now offer up evil people rather than the innocents I’d sacrificed in the past.

Ernest’s recitation continued. Dr. Ramsay Warren, a relation by marriage as well as close friend of the Foreign Secretary, continued to wriggle uselessly within his bindings. At this point I’d have preferred him drugged and comatose, but Dr. Neale, Ernest, had insisted on him understanding why he was to die. It was a pointless exercise; the knowledge would serve no purpose. In the shadows at the corner of my vision Tana herself lurked, a huge warlike wraith. She’d responded to my summoning spell and waited impatiently to breathe in the man’s soul as it left his quivering body at the moment of mortal climax.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Aussie Mikala Ash used to be a mild-mannered training & development consultant by day, and a wild sci-fi and paranormal adventure writer by night. Now she is a brazen full-time writer and nature photographer who is concentrating on having among other things, “… bags, and bags of fun!” Mikala can be found on Facebook and on Twitter.

NEW RELEASE: The Devil’s Wings by Alexa Piper #PNR #DarkFantasy #LGBTQ @prowlingpiper

Lionel is in love with the Devil. It has taken the necromancer and police consultant a while to acknowledge it, and the impatient and overeager Lucifer didn’t always make it easy for Lionel to come to terms with his emotions, but Lionel is finally in a place where he wants to open up to his boyfriend.

After some well-deserved vacation time, Lionel finds himself back at work, and he is welcomed by a potential murder case that quickly turns into a mystery he is determined to solve. Lucifer has been having his own thoughts on intimacy and sharing things, and there are small details about himself he has yet to tell his necromancer.

In-between an unusual case of corpses at the beach, Lucifer reveals his secret to the man he loves. As a result, the Devil will have to learn that a secret once revealed cannot be unmade by any deal. And Lionel will have to find a way to make his peace with the fact that loving a god and letting that god love him is just not as easy as he thought.

Available at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Alexa Piper

Lionel

The Devil on top of me, filling my mouth with his woodfire and spices scent while he kissed me senseless — that was not something I’d thought I’d get used to. And yet here I was, Lionel Hawkes, professional necromancer and newly minted demigod, on my back in Lucifer’s bed, and somehow pleasantly used to what he was doing do me. Craving it, even. His bedroom was warm although the January light filtering in through the curtains, half covering the floor-to-ceiling windows, was bleary and cool, and of course, so close to him, there was no chance of me getting cold.

“Babe, turn on your stomach,” he said, barely even breaking the kiss as he caged me in with his arms, with his body.

“I need to get up and get to work,” I said. “The Holiday break is over.” And it had been a long one, because Christine, my boss, had either been bribed by Lucifer or she’d wanted to be rid of me for a little while. The outcome had been the same: Lucifer, capitalizing heavily on my time and attention from around mid-December to New Year’s just a few days ago. And me, secretly loving it. A lot.

Lucifer grumbled. “It’s still early, and you won’t be late. You are also not leaving this bed before I’ve had you. So, on your stomach.”

I shivered at his words, but I knew this was not a discussion I was likely to win, and so I slowly turned. Of course, with him being all over me, I felt his hard cock brush up against my own, and that made me give him a small, needy noise that I couldn’t quite contain. Which I just knew he’d love.

“Mmh, you’re so hot, babe,” he said and commenced kissing and nipping at my neck when I was finally where he wanted me.

I dug my fingers into the sheets, idly wondering when I’d gotten used to his large, circular bed and the high-thread-count gray sheets, but when he was starting to rub his cock in my crack, all idle thoughts went overboard.

“Babe, I’m doing magic to you,” he said. “Still your own.”

“You do not need to tell me every fucking time, Lucy,” I said, but he just growled and bit my newly pierced earlobe, pulling the stud with his teeth so hard I gasped… with the pure pleasure the pain brought me.

“Yes, I do,” he said. “Now still your magic, while I make you slick for me.”

Well, okay, maybe he did. But honestly, I’d not been able to use my demigod magic since that one time on Midwinter where we’d had a run in with Michael, who’d just been an angel dick all over again. I was beginning to think that my Awesome Demigod Sled Dog Magic ™ was more of a hit or miss kind of deal than anything I’d ever really get the hang of. Not that that was bad. I’d always been a necromancer, and while I didn’t care for the smell of decay, I wasn’t skittish, and I loved the work.

As Lucifer’s magic touched me, I couldn’t quite smother the gasp that escaped me. His sex magic was just so incredibly intimate, more intimate than every single time he’d lubed me up with his skilled and teasing fingers. I could feel him clean me and leave me slick — much slicker than I needed to be, but I’d come to learn he liked it that way, and when the Devil liked something, there was very little I could do to change that, even less to keep him from getting it.

Since he was still rubbing his cock between my cheeks, he was very soon spreading that slickness, and pretty soon after that, I was squirming under him, just trying to get some friction of my own.

Lucifer chuckled. “Ah, babe. Do you want me?”

“Yes. Or do you need a written invitation?” I said, knowing perfectly well that this would get me — something. I just didn’t know what.

“Mmh. So mouthy again. You were far tamer when I had you tied up and fed you my cock back in Scotland.”

“Well, I didn’t have to be anywhere when you did that, did I? I have to go to the station at some point this year.” I wanted to add I had another necromancer to train, but that would really get Lucifer angry. He definitely did not appreciate me talking about other men while I was in his bed, and if I did, he might not let me come. And I wanted to come. Sometime this year.

“Ah, sweet. How you test me. I have to remember to do something about that mouth of yours in the mornings.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Alexa Piper writes steamy romance that ranges from light to dark, from straight to queer. She’s also a coffee addict. Alexa loves writing stories that make her readers laugh and fall in love with the characters in them. Connect with Alexa on Facebook or Instagram, follow her on Twitter or TikTok, and subscribe to her newsletter!

NEW RELEASE: A Vampire’s Revenge – Gabriel & Jayla’s Story by K. Lewis #paranormalromance #vampires @KLewisAuthor22

Title: A Vampire’s Revenge: Gabriel & Jayla’s Story
Series: The La Madeline Brothers Saga Book #1
Author: K. Lewis
Genre: Paranormal Romance (Vampire)
Release Date: June 28, 2022
Cover Design: Edgar M. Lewis, III

 

My name is Gabriel de la Madalena. I’ve been a vampire for more than four hundred years. I’m the heir of a successful high-end clothing line and I have seven brothers for whom I’d gladly give my life. The one thing that has eluded me for all these centuries is love.

Jayla is a beautifully voluptuous woman who is fighting a losing battle. I’d fight all her battles if given the chance. Will she let her walls down to give me a chance to love her or will she run away when she realizes what I am? An enemy of my past has decided that it’s finally time to enact the twisted game of revenge that he promised long ago. Will he succeed in taking away my happiness before I’ve had a chance to claim it?
My name is Jayla Monique Spence. I’m a thirty-eight-year-old woman and I never thought I’d be in a situation where my ex was blackmailing me. To make the situation worse, I don’t know how to make him stop without losing everything.
Gabriel blew into my world like a stage five hurricane. He was everything I didn’t know I wanted but everything that I needed. Before I know it, I’m wrapped up in his world and I’ve become an unwitting player in a game of revenge. Should I run or stay and fight? More importantly, will I survive?

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K. Lewis was born and raised in rural Texas. Her friends and family are the most important to her. When she isn’t reading, you can find her with her energetic Bichon Frise, Crumpet. K. Lewis’s love for reading romance began in junior high school when she and her best friend exchanged short stories about their crushes. Throughout the years, she has gravitated toward paranormal and romantic suspense, focusing on plus-size heroines. “A Vampire’s Revenge: Gabriel and Jayla’s Story” is K. Lewis’s first paranormal romance novel.
You can find K. Lewis on Twitter at @KLewisAuthor22 or you can email her at KLewisAuthor22@gmail.com.
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