TEASER: The Wolf Experiment by Laura Daleo

Urban Fantasy / Werewolf

Date Published: 01-23-2026

 

 In Doford Peaks, a small mountain town, 19-year-old Ethan lives with his
grandma. His life is quite normal, at least as normal as it can be for someone
with asthma. A winter morning walk turns dramatic when he and his grandma
discover an 18-year-old girl, Mia, who is unconscious and injured. As Mia
recovers, bits of her past emerge, attracting agents Gibson and Cooper of the
Bureau of Supernatural Investigation (BSI). A complex web of secrets
associated with the Defense Forces of Genesis (DFOG) intertwines their fates.
As the truth emerges, Ethan and Mia must face the horrifying reality of The
Wolf Experiment.

 

 

Excerpt

Chapter 1

A whimper pulled me from my sleep, and my eyelids
fluttered open. Gracie’s snout was right in front of me, her light gray
fur softly brushing against my cheek. As her pale blue eyes looked into mine,
her tail began to wag. There was no way I was getting up, and I rolled over to
the other side of my bed, where Hank stood waiting. He fixed his golden eyes
on me, his pure white fur seeming darker in the dim light of my bedroom.
Sunlight filtered through the two large skylights above my bed, casting a warm
light over my room. The rays continued to spread across posters of my favorite
bands, my world map marked with where I wanted to visit, my only plant that I
hadn’t killed, and my high school guitar leaning against my bookcase. My
wolves whimpered again, signaling it was time to get up. Glancing at the clock
on my nightstand, it read 6:00 a.m.
I pulled the covers over my head and
tried to fall back asleep, but that didn’t work out well. My wolves
howled as they jumped onto my king-sized bed. Sitting up, I shook off the
sleepiness and raised my open palms toward Hank. “We’re bros,
Hank. Help me out here. It’s too early. Can’t you and Gracie give
me a little more time?”
Hank reacted by leaping off my bed,
sprinting into the hallway, and then vanishing. Gracie fixed her fierce gaze
on me, but I avoided her eyes. The sound of Hank’s paws tapping against
the floor broke the silence as he charged back into my room, his leash clamped
in his mouth.
I shook my head in frustration, tossed aside my covers, and
walked into the bathroom. They followed closely behind me. “At the very
least, let me take a quick shower before we go for a walk.”
I
didn’t let either of them protest with a bark, howl, or whine and
stepped into the shower. Turning on the hot water, my wolves settled onto the
cool porcelain tile of the bathroom, their eyes on me, waiting. My thoughts
drifted back to one year ago when I discovered the abandoned wolf puppies on
my way home from the local store. They huddled together on the roadside,
trembling and shaking, too young to be without their mother. Their bodies were
mere skin and bones, and they had that look in their eyes that they were ready
to give up. I tucked them into my jacket and rushed home, fully aware that my
grandma would not be pleased with my impulsive decision, but I had to save
them.
My grandma’s eyes widened in disbelief when she saw the
little bundles of fur sticking out from my jacket as I walked in the door.
“Ethan, did you bring wolves into my house?” She let out a deep
sigh and was definitely annoyed, but as she noticed their desperate state, her
disapproval began to fade. She quickly ushered me and the puppies into her
clinic and examined them thoroughly. “I’m a physician, not a
veterinarian,” she said, “but these puppies are severely
dehydrated and malnourished. I can give them fluids, and you need to buy puppy
milk replacement from the feed store. Let Walter know they are wolf pups and
about four weeks old. He will know what to give you.”

Gracie’s
and Hank’s urgent barks jolted me into the present and forced me to
quickly finish my shower. Staring at myself in the double mirrors over the
bathroom vanity, I saw bits of my grandma in me. We both had curly, caramel
brown hair, although hers had strands of gray. The left corner of our smiles
was slightly crooked, a trait that ran in the family. Our hazel eyes had more
green than brown, and while she stood at 5’6″ and weighed 125 pounds, I was
taller at 5’10” and weighed 165 pounds.
She was a tough, 66-year-old
woman with a strong personality who never remarried after my grandfather
passed away. I never knew him. He died before I was born. Grandma, being the
town’s physician and surgeon, was accustomed to interacting with people
and found comfort in those conversations. As for me—I was a loner and
found socializing to be a challenge. I preferred the company of animals over
people. Hank and Gracie were my best friends. All I truly needed was their
companionship, along with my grandma’s, of course.
When I was five,
my parents left me at my grandma’s house. That was fourteen years ago.
We lived in Doford Peaks, a small mountain town in the state of Oakridge, with
a population of around 1,200. With winter fully upon us, I dressed in utility
pants, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and my winter boots to prepare for the cold. I
also dressed Hank and Gracie in their waterproof winter coats and booties.
Along with my down jacket, I grabbed a beanie and gloves. I stuffed my cell
phone, inhaler, and compass into my pants pockets. With Gracie’s and
Hank’s leashes in hand, I left my bedroom and dropped my jacket, beanie,
and gloves on the entryway table.
Hank and Gracie followed me into our
rustic kitchen, with exposed wooden beams and oak cabinets. Grandma
particularly loved the large windows that allowed natural light to stream
across the stone-tiled floor and the breathtaking views of the surrounding
mountains. She was seated at the antique wooden table in the center of the
kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee. Grabbing a granola bar and a bottle of
water, I breathed in the rich aroma of French roast. “Morning, Grandma.
You’re up early.”
“Ethan, good morning. A slight
emergency brought me into the clinic.” She sipped her coffee and
continued, “LuAnn fell on the ice and sliced her hand open. She needed
several stitches.” Grinning, she said, “She asked about
you.”
“Please stop with the matchmaking.”
“She’s
intelligent and attractive, much like you.”
“That
doesn’t mean I have to date her.”
“It doesn’t
mean you have to date her. But what’s the harm in having a casual cup of
coffee?”
“Being single works for me. Plus, I wouldn’t
know how to talk to her, and I wouldn’t want to give her the wrong idea.
Can we change the subject?”
She placed her coffee mug on the
counter. “Fine. Are you going out for a walk with your wolf
pack?”
I scratched Gracie and Hank behind their ears. “As
much as I wanted to sleep in, they insisted I get up and take them for a
walk.”
Her gaze drifted to one of the large windows, where
snowflakes were gently falling outside. Turning her attention back to me, she
asked, “Do you have your inhaler?”
I patted my pocket.
“Yes, Grandma.”
“What about your cell phone?”
“I
have that too.”
“Since it’s snowing, you should
definitely take a jacket, and—”
My chin bobbed toward the
door as I interrupted her. “I have a jacket, a beanie, and
gloves.”
“Hmm. What about water or a snack?”
I
groaned and replied, “Grandma, I’m 19. I’m not a kid
anymore. I can take care of myself.”
A protective expression
crossed her face as she placed her hand on her hip. “Ethan, no matter
how old you get, in my eyes, you’ll always be my precious
grandson.”
A sigh escaped my lips, and I shrugged my shoulders.
“Do you want to just come with me?”
Her hazel eyes brightened
with a smile as she waved a finger at me. “That’s a great
idea,” she said. “I’ll get my coat.”
Grandma came
back wearing a down jacket. She was bundled up in winter clothing. A scarf was
wrapped around her neck, and gloves covered her hands while she tucked her
hair beneath the hood of her jacket. She grabbed a bottle of water from the
cupboard and tucked it into her jacket pocket. Then she reached for
Gracie’s leash. “Gracie can come with me.”
“Gracie
is definitely easier to control than Hank. He tends to pull a lot, especially
when he catches a scent.” I handed her Gracie’s leash.
“That’s
true!” she said with a smile. “I’m ready. It’s
beautiful right now. The sun is breaking through the clouds, the snow is
falling, and the air smells of pine cones. What more could we ask
for?”
“You sound like a greeting card, Grandma.”
A
chuckle escaped her lips. “I do, don’t I?” She opened the
solid wood door and replied, “After you.”
Wood siding wrapped
around my grandma’s single-story home. The deep green roof blended into
the surrounding trees, and the many windows let in tons of light, which my
grandma loved. I led Hank through the doorway and onto the wraparound deck. We
made our way down the stairs and onto the cement driveway. Continuing down the
sloped driveway, we passed Grandma’s clinic, a smaller replica of the
main house. Glen’s truck had cleared the road of snow. At 70, he was
still going strong as the owner of a snowplow truck company. His silver hair
was often dusted with snow, mirroring the bushy eyebrows that framed his kind,
gray-blue eyes. Every time I saw him, he was wearing a flannel shirt, a heavy
jacket, jeans, and boots. Maybe they were his favorites or maybe it was his
uniform, but at least he was consistent.
We walked along the towering
pine trees, now filled with snow, lining both sides of the road. The crisp,
cool air stung my cheeks, so I pulled my beanie down as far as possible and
still be able to see. Hank and Gracie strolled alongside us, their noses in
the air, sniffing at whatever scents they could find.
Grandma asked,
“Would you like to talk about the letter your parents sent?”
“I
don’t,” I abruptly replied.
“I think we ought to talk
about it,” she insisted.
I looked at her, hoping my expression
conveyed my hurt, frustration, and exhaustion. “Grandma, I love you. I
know my dad is your son, and I don’t mean any disrespect, but they
handed me off to you fourteen years ago. Mom and Dad haven’t visited me
for any occasion—birthdays, Thanksgiving, or Christmas. They ghosted me!
I couldn’t care less about their stupid letters.”
“I
understand where you’re coming from,” she sympathized.
“Although I don’t support the choice they made, I know it was very
tough for them to leave you in my care, and I can only imagine how confusing
this all is for you. I don’t know what your letter said, but in my
letter, they reiterated their continued search for a cure for asthma. Their
letter made it very clear that they’re doing everything possible to help
you live a healthier, happier life. I hope you know how much both your parents
love you.”
“Researching for fourteen years, Grandma?” I
exclaimed, my voice filled with exasperation. “I’m sure even you
don’t even believe that.”
“I know they love
you.”
“If they truly loved me, they would have been present
in my life instead of concentrating on scientific research. My parents
didn’t want a flawed son.”
Her hand touched mine as she
paused. “Ethan, you can’t possibly believe that.”
“Regardless
of what I believe, the fact remains that I have asthma, and I manage it. You
stood beside me, not my parents. They’ve been absent most of my life.
Even if they returned now, I probably wouldn’t want to see them.
I’m sorry, Grandma.” I softened my tone. “My anger is
directed at them, not you, and I’m just not ready to forgive
them.”
She hugged me tight and reassured me. “Ethan, I will
always be here for you.”
In her arms, emotions surged within me,
and tears threatened to fall. Hank and Gracie surrounded me, nuzzling their
furry heads against my body in an attempt to comfort me. As I pulled away, I
admitted, “Talking about them doesn’t help. It only makes matters
worse.”
“I understand how you feel. Everything is going to be
okay, I promise. Let’s continue our morning walk with Hank and Gracie
and enjoy the day together.”
Relieved, I nodded, and we continued
down the road. Hank and Gracie glanced back at me occasionally to ensure I was
okay. As we walked, the various smells around us began to capture their
attention more than my presence. They trotted happily alongside me, their
snouts pressed to the pavement, wagging their tails as they sniffed every
tree.
“It’s chilly today,” Grandma said and shivered
and then glanced at me. “How are you feeling? Any shortness of
breath?”
“So far, so good, but I agree it’s super cold.
Maybe we can cut our walk short.”
“Good idea, and I
agree.”
Hank suddenly stopped, raised his nose, and howled. A few
birds scattered from the branches above, startled by his abrupt call. Had he
sensed something: an approaching storm or another animal nearby?
Gracie’s ears perked up as she lifted her head and let out a softer but
equally determined howl. My wolves stood side by side, their eyes scanning the
horizon, alert to something I couldn’t see. Hank started tugging on his
leash, and I pulled backward. “What is it, Hank?”
“I
don’t see anything,” Grandma said, glancing around the area.
I
peered between the trees, searching and feeling compelled to understand what
Hank and Gracie were sensing. “They definitely smell something.
Let’s check.”
“I am not sure if it is safe,
Ethan.”
“Grandma, we need to investigate. If it’s an
injured animal or more abandoned pups, we can call Marsha and have her send
her wildlife team out here.”
“Fair enough.” Grandma
nodded.
I released the slack on Hank’s leash and commanded,
“Find it!
Hank and Gracie raced ahead, tugging Grandma and me
along. Our breaths rose into the air like swirls of smoke. Frost covered the
road, crunching beneath our boots as we followed my wolves. As we went down
the road, the trees got thicker and thicker, reaching up to the pale sky,
casting shadows, and blocking out the sun.
My wolves’ noses skimmed
along the damp earth, sniffing. Occasionally, they paused to circle a spot
several times before continuing on their determined path with their noses once
again on the ground. They sped up and tensed their bodies as they focused on
the trail that led us up the hill to a cliff that looked like the entrance to
a cave.
Despite the cold, beads of sweat formed on my forehead, and a
tightness spread across my chest. The familiar constriction gripped my lungs
the higher we climbed. I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed my medicine.
Fumbling in my pocket, I reached for my inhaler. I could feel Grandma’s
eyes fixed on me as I struggled to breathe.
Grandma’s voice was
tense as she ordered, “Stop and use your inhaler. You’re having
trouble breathing.”
“Hank is pulling me too hard. I can take
a puff while I’m moving.”
“Nonsense,” Grandma
said, taking Hank’s leash from me and bringing both Hank and Gracie to a
halt. The wolves howled in protest. “There, now they’ve stopped.
Please, Ethan, use your inhaler right now, and I mean it.”
I
didn’t argue and put my inhaler in my mouth, pressed the button,
releasing the medication, and breathed deeply. After a few seconds of inhaling
and exhaling, the pressure lessened, and I put my inhaler back in my pocket.
Gradually, the tightness in my chest vanished.
“Better?”
I
nodded.
“I can’t risk your health for Hank and Gracie to
chase down some scent. We need to turn back.”
“No, Grandma!
I’m fine. If there’s an animal in trouble, we need to save it.
I’ll never forgive myself if we don’t keep going.”
Her
lips formed a thin line, and her brow furrowed with disapproval. Grandma knew
that Hank and Gracie were not just my pets. They knew me better than any
human. They were part of our family. I felt a deep responsibility to protect
all animals, and my grandma knew that.
Again, I begged, “Please,
Grandma.”
After several minutes of hesitation, she finally
responded, “We’ll proceed, but if you have another episode,
we’re finished.” She handed Hank’s leash back to me.
I
let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I’ll be okay. I
promise.”
She huffed and waved me forward.
After hiking up the
hill, we arrived at the cave, its dark entrance framed by jagged rocks. A
thick fog floated within the darkness, reminding me of dry ice. I had my
doubts about going inside. The cave floor could be unstable or wild animals
could be hiding inside. And what if the air was thin and stale and triggered
my asthma? But Hank and Gracie were insistent, pulling on their leashes to get
closer.
Peering into the cave, Grandma asked, “Did you bring a
flashlight?”
“No, I didn’t,” I replied, my eyes
widening as a thought struck me. “I can use the app on my
phone.”
When I pulled my phone out of my pocket, Hank leapt
forward, yanking his leash from my grip. Gracie followed suit, breaking free
from Grandma’s hand and racing after Hank. I switched on the flashlight
app, flooding the cave with light. The beam flickered across dirt and jagged
rocks. I pointed it upward, and Hank and Gracie running down a narrow
passageway fell into view. The musty stench and distant sounds of water
dripping grew stronger as we followed them.
“They must have found
the source,” Grandma said, matching my pace.
My heart raced as fear
tightened in my throat at the thought of something harming my wolves.
“I’m freaking out,” I blurted, trying to keep my phone
steady with trembling hands. I had no idea what this cave contained, whether
it was safe, or what Hank and Gracie had stumbled upon. They never disobeyed
me. Maybe Grandma was right about turning back.
“They’ll be
fine. They’re strong creatures. Just try not to worry.”
“I’m
trying not to.”
Hank barked sharply, his call signaling to me that
he needed me. I rushed blindly into the cave, adrenaline coursing through me.
The sound of Grandma’s boots brushing against the cave floor echoed
behind me as she ran.
The flashlight beam caught something ahead, but the darkness obscured my view.
Upon closer inspection, I saw Hank and Gracie circling something on the
ground. Slowing down, I hoped it wasn’t an injured animal. As Grandma
reached the spot ahead of me, she gasped. I stood still, unable to take
another step. “Grandma, what’s going on? What is it?”
As
her gaze turned toward me, she said, “Not a what, but a who. It’s
a young woman, maybe 18 or 19 years old.”
“What?” I
rushed forward, closing the distance to the scene. I halted just behind
Grandma, who was kneeling beside an unconscious girl, curled up in a fetal
position, wearing a hospital gown. Hank and Gracie stood close by. Her long
strawberry blonde hair was a matted, tangled mess hanging over her face. Her
pale skin stood out in contrast to the bruises and deep red cuts all over her
arms, legs, and especially her bare feet. Pus oozed out of them.
Grandma
was in full-on doctor mode, checking the girl’s pulse, listening to her
breathing, and examining her numerous wounds. As she assessed the girl’s
condition, her eyes narrowed in concentration.
“Jesus,” I whispered. “Is she alive?”
“Her
pulse is weak, and her breathing is shallow, but she’s alive,”
Grandma confirmed, her focus on the girl. “Her body temperature is low.
It could be hypothermia. She’s wearing a wristband, but it’s not
from the hospital in town.” She turned to me. “Give me your
jacket. She needs to warm up.”
I removed my jacket and handed it to
Grandma, who carefully wrapped it around the girl.
“We need to get
her out of here and to my clinic immediately,” Grandma urged. “We
can’t carry her, and I need my medical van. You’ll need to keep a
close watch on her while I go get the van. Be prepared that you may have to
perform CPR if her heart stops.”
My jaw dropped slowly as the
weight of responsibility washed over me, sending a wave of anxiety coursing
through my body. The thought of performing lifesaving measures on someone was
terrifying. What if I screwed up? “I’m your bookkeeper. This is
beyond my capabilities,” I said, gesturing toward the girl. “I
can’t help her.”
“You can handle this. Besides,
we’ve trained many times on all emergency procedures.”
The
cave felt as if it were closing in around me. Memories of Grandma’s
first aid lessons flooded my mind, each one a jumbled mess of instructions and
distant recollections. I shook my head firmly. “No, I can’t do it.
What if she wakes up and sees some guy standing over her? You know I’m
not comfortable with people. She’ll probably freak out. Just let me go
get the van, and you stay here.”
Grandma looked at me, as if
weighing my suggestion, but her expression remained firm. “I understand
your hesitation, but she needs medical treatment immediately. You’ll
have to run to the house, Ethan. I can’t risk you having an asthma
attack. It’s better if I go.”
The thought of being alone with
an unconscious stranger filled me with anxiety. What if I made a mistake and
ended up making things worse instead of better? What if her injuries worsened,
and I wasn’t able to save her? Every rational part of me screamed at me
to let Grandma handle it. I had to be the one to get the van.
“I’ve hiked trails many times—maybe not up a mountain, but
I’ve covered long distances without an episode. Plus, I have my inhaler.
Please let me get the van, Grandma.”
She studied me for several
minutes, probably envisioning various scenarios and their likely outcomes.
After sighing, she relented. “All right. The keys to my van are in my
office in the top drawer on the right side of my desk at the clinic, not my
home office.”
I nodded and turned to leave but quickly faced
Grandma again. My gaze shifted to Hank and Gracie. Instead of coming with me,
they remained by the girl’s side. My brows furrowed in confusion. Why
had they tracked her in the first place, and why were they so protective of
her? Was it her injuries? The blood? The situation? It didn’t make
sense.
“Ethan, what’s wrong?” Grandma asked,
interrupting my thoughts.
I glanced at her before shifting my focus back
to my wolves. “Hank and Gracie,” I said. “It’s odd how
they’re behaving. They don’t even know this girl that
they’re trying so hard to protect.”
“We can figure that
out later. Right now, we need to get this girl to my clinic.” She waved
me away. “Go now and hurry back. Stay safe.”
“I
will.” I cast one final glance at Hank and Gracie before hurrying out of
the cave.


About the Author

 
 Laura Daleo is an accomplished multi-genre author known for weaving
captivating tales across dark fantasy, urban fantasy, supernatural/paranormal,
sci-fi, and young adult fiction. Her acclaimed Immortal Kiss series showcases
her unique take on vampiric lore, reimagining the origins of vampires through
the lens of the Egyptian pantheon. Originally from San Diego, California,
Laura now calls Tucson, Arizona home, where she shares her life with her two
beloved dogs, Rose and Cooper.

Contact Links

Purchase Links

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RABT Book Tours & PR

BOOK BLITZ: Serial Overkill by Kelley Barks-Baker

Mystery, LGBTQ Mystery

Date Published: February 27, 2024

A small community has a killer with a gruesome vendetta in this darkly
humorous LGBTQ+ mystery, featuring a group of tight-knit investigators whose
lives are as complex as the murderer they’re chasing.

When a serial killer terrorizes their town, Doc, Switch, Saphine, and Lauren
are hot on the trail—despite pushback from local law enforcement. But
while they work to solve the crimes before more lives are lost, the detectives
have to handle personal problems and repair trust with found family in order
to even have a chance at solving the murders.

Soon, however, the group learns how the past affects relationships and their
ability to serve justice. Will they find motive behind the violent crimes? Or
are some mysteries never meant to be solved?

Serial Overkill is a suspense-filled, character-driven whodunit drama that
will have readers chasing answers until the bitter end.

 

About the Author

Kelley Barks-Baker has a bachelor’s degree in criminal justice
administration. She enjoys reading and vacationing on the beach.

Barks-Baker currently resides with Cape Girardeau, Missouri with her family.

 

Contact Link

BookBuzz

Purchase Link

Amazon

RABT Book Tours & PR

COVER REVEAL: The Helmsman of Anthesis by Lee Hodiak

Historical Fiction

Date Published: March 12th

Publisher: Acorn Publishing

William Sukara, a gregarious dreamer, emerges from the 1950s an estranged son.
In divorce debt and with limited visitation rights as a father, he searches
for order in failure. Pursuing self-discipline as an answer, he enlists in the
Navy, volunteers for underwater demolition team training, and survives the
elite course.

With five other team members, he raises his hand for a clandestine mission,
knowing only that it’s a “hundred day operation in a warm climate.” They
are led by a mysterious civilian who alludes that their authorization comes
from the Oval Office, and they are to operate with extreme malice. They
revolt, escaping under bizarre circumstances.

The Helmsman of Anthesis is a raw, close to the nerve, psychological
thriller about a mission gone wantonly mad.

 

About the Author

At age twenty, Lee Hodiak joined the Navy and spent most of his enlistment
attached to Underwater Demolition Team 12. After serving, he joined the San
Diego Police Department but realized he needed to follow his passion for
wilderness travel and adventure instead. He went on to backpack the Baja
California Peninsula, built a thirty-six-foot sloop, and lived in Australia
for twenty years.
Now a resident of Central California, Lee enjoys
birdwatching and living by the ocean. Sixty years in the making, The Helmsman
of Anthesis is his debut novel.

RABT Book Tours & PR

TEASER: Vengeful Fire by Mikala Ash

Dark Fantasy / Paranormal Romance

Date Published: February 6, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press

Heat rages out of control as the pub burns. The only thing hotter is the
woman watching the flames.

Diana Kendall just had an argument with the owner of Cornwall’s pub. Now
Cornwall’s is burning to the ground. Diana’s an enigma, an artist,
beautiful and intelligent, but strangely aloof. How can Mike resist? But when
he wakes up the next morning, Diana’s gone.

It’s not until Mike sees a naked woman disappear into an art gallery
with a wolf at her side that the real trouble starts. The woman looks
incredibly like Diana. But what is the mysterious apparition trying to tell
him?

Mike needs to find out what’s really going. Does Diana’s fiery
past tell the story, or will he get burnt by Vengeful Fire?

 


Excerpt

Copyright ©2026 Mikala Ash

As he watched the flames, Mike wondered if Prometheus had known what he was
doing when he stole fire from the gods and turned it over to mankind. Humans
had been nothing but trouble ever since.

The alcohol fueled flames consuming Cornwall’s Pub were hypnotic —
mesmerizing and beautiful. They writhed in an almost sensual way. No, Mike
corrected himself. The flames were sensual — the rhythmic way the tongues of
fire bent and unbent were undoubtedly sexual, as if they were alive, pyrrhic
creatures in the throes of orgasm, riding the stiff wooden beams that fueled
their passion. There was even a sense of playful capriciousness about the
sound of splintering beams, which created a staccato beat cheekily mimicking
the act — the fucking act, the act of fucking.

Mike thought there was even something sexual about the words that described
fire. Tongues of flame that licked, seething cauldrons of searing molten heat,
glowing embers pulsing white hot, bursting explosions of showering sparks,
inflamed… His mental thesaurus eventually failed him and he settled in
to enjoy the show.

Several roof beams collapsed with a whoosh. Sparks showered the street and
plumes of acrid smoke belched out of the roiling flames.

Mike looked forward to the climax of the act, when the last sinews of
structure that held the roof aloft would melt, bend and break as the building
collapsed completely into the smoldering debris of orgasm.

Moments later there was another explosion, no doubt the last of the bottles of
bourbon, gin and scotch that had lined the mirrored bar. The firecracker bangs
brought a cheer from the fickle crowd, who twenty minutes earlier had been
drinking and singing within the Cornwall’s convivial walls. The crowd,
Mike thought, were like jilted lovers who laughed self-consciously at the
misfortunes of an unfaithful ex-partner.

Adrenaline still pumped madly through Mike’s veins as if he’d just
come inside the cock-melting pussy of some stranger. He had reason. He’d
been the one who’d shouted the alarm causing these rats to desert the
sinking ship. Not one, he noted, had stayed to fight the hungry flames. No one
had been loyal and true, though they’d drunk there, as he had, for the
last several years. Ten minutes after the final climax of this act of
consuming passion they’d likely be drinking at someone else’s bar.
He felt unaccountably guilty, like the concerned friend who had to break the
news of an infidelity. Knowing that what he did would have ramifications
beyond a simple busted relationship. A step once taken…

Across from him, in the semicircle of voyeurs, stood a dark-haired girl, tall
and lithe. He remembered her from earlier in the night. She was a stranger to
the bar, a newbie, attractive enough to stop conversation… at least on
the men’s parts and, he recalled, some of the girls too.

The pulsating conflagration illuminated her pensive face. She had striking
features; high cheekbones, full lips, large dark eyes and long straight ebony
hair that reached her waist. She seemed strangely familiar but he
couldn’t place her. She wasn’t someone overtly famous, someone who
was always in your face like a movie star. More likely she was a lingerie
model or perhaps he’d seen her in a TV commercial.

His interest in her had been heightened, of course, by the ruckus she’d
caused. An argument with the manager of the place, that stuck up prick
Cornwall himself.

There followed a brief, angry exchange with the bouncer who’d been
instructed to escort her furious body off the premises. Mike had left his seat
to go to her assistance but she’d been too quickly ejected and by the
time he’d reached the street she’d gone.

She’d returned an hour or so later, just before he raised the alarm
about the fire. He noticed she’d come in the side door that led from the
alley. Her serious and cunning expression reminded him of a jilted lover who
can’t resist sneaking into the ex’s bedroom. The scene of so many
orgasms; where so much cum had been ejaculated, spilled, and swallowed. Just
once more to lie on the sodden sheets of love.

Mike made a decision and moved between the drunken observers and stood beside
her. Amazingly, despite the choking, plastic laden smoke that swirled around
them, she smelled of… oranges.

“Hi there,” he said.

“Do I know you?”

She hadn’t looked at him. Her eyes were fixed on the firefighters, those
modern knights with watery lances who battled the angry chimera; the mindless
fire-breathing beast.

“No. I saw you earlier when you had a row with that prick
Cornwall.”

“So?”

“I really don’t think you should be standing here. The fire chief
will tell the police that the fire was deliberately lit. The police will then
interview the staff and they’ll describe you and they’ll see you
here watching the place burn down. Not a good look.”

She turned to face him then, dark eyes sizing him up. The rippling flames were
reflected in them and he found himself lost in those glowing embers, looking
for his silhouette.

“What do you have in mind?”

Infidelity, a sweet, sweet friend. “The smoke has made me thirsty. I
know a bar across town that’s not so… hot.”

Her full lips curled into a smile. One last look at the inferno and a shrug as
if it didn’t matter anymore. The deed was done. “Lead the
way.”

Mike took her arm in his and pulled her gently through the swelling crowd, now
ten deep. The Cornwall had been popular and would, no doubt because of its
prime location, be rebuilt and open for business within six months. Bigger and
better, like a whore returning to her favorite corner after a boob job.

The Glass Half Full was a pretentious little dive frequented by philosophy
students. Mike liked it. Some of the regulars even knew his name. She gave it
an appraising glance through the frosted windows before nodding and following
him in.

“What do you do?” she asked once settled on a high stool at a
round pedestal table.

Mike couldn’t help but notice how her full breasts rested on the
tabletop. “Webpage designer. And you?”

“Student. Art.”

“I guessed it.”

“And how did you do that?” she said tiredly.

He lowered his eyes to her hands. “Paint on your fingertips.”

She laughed and the pure tones resonated playfully in his ears. “I could
be a house painter.”

“Interior design?” he countered.

“Renaissance art.”

“Ah, ceilings. Just as good. Forgive me, but I may not know art but
I…”

“… yeah, yeah, don’t say it.”

He took a sip of his beer but couldn’t take his eyes off her. He felt
strangely comfortable being with her. No nerves at all, which was unusual,
given the circumstances. He was, after all, sitting with a stunningly
beautiful woman who he desperately wanted to fuck.

Usually, whenever he was alone with a new girl, he had butterflies the size of
eagles flying out of formation in his stomach. “I was in the art gallery
just the other day,” he said suddenly to fill the silence. “And I
realized the thing about reality is that it’s, in fact, an
illusion.”

He shuddered inside. What an incredibly stupid passé thing to say.
She’d think him a pretentious prat, which was precisely what he was at
that very moment.

She lent toward him, unaccountably interested. “How so?”

“Well, meaningless rays of light enter our eyes and excite some neurons.
Neuro-chemicals jump across synapses. These excite more neurons. A pulse of
electrical current travels to the next synapse and so on until eventually our
brain sorts them into some sort of matrix we can consciously interpret.”

Her nod of interest urged him on. “But it’s an illusion, something
our brains make up. It’s all a fiction. There are gaps, things we
don’t see, because of lighting or perspective. Our brain fills in those
gaps with assumptions and pre-conceived ideas. We see what we expect to see.
Due to our common brain structure and culture we fill the gaps the same way
and the result is we all share the same illusion.”

She licked her bottom lip and for a moment he lost his train of thought.

“Like a mass hallucination?” she prompted.

He nodded, grateful for her lifeline. “Something like that. I know
it’s been said before. It’s hardly an original thought, but it
struck me there in the gallery and for the first time I knew what it meant.
There was this painting…”

“How unusual to find one of those in there.” Her eyes twinkled
mischievously in the Glass’s dim lighting.

He smiled back. He knew she wasn’t being sarcastic, only getting into
the spirit of the absurd that seemed to have fallen about him this evening. He
actually liked her. “That’s what I thought,” he said,
joining in the fun. “This particular painting was just a mass and swirl
of fine lines in blue ink. The title of the painting was “Stand
Back,” so I did. And the lines resolved themselves into a face. It was
the artist resting her head on her forearm while she drew her own face while
looking at a mirror. It was quite brilliant, but it showed me that reality is
perception, excuse the cliché. That an alien being seeing that
painting, having not seen anything else from Earth, would just see some fine
lines in blue ink.”

“And apart from the face, what else did you see that an alien would not
have?”

“Emotions are hard to judge.”

“Try.”

He put on an aristocratic English accent. “It’s like looking at
paintings from the eighteenth century, don’t you know.”

He saw her lips tighten as she suppressed her laughter. “I
don’t.”

“I can see what they have painted — that shared human knowledge again.
But not what’s going on within the minds of the people depicted even
though they’re only a few hundred years in the past… because
their world view is completely different from ours… they’re an
enigma.”

“The girl in blue ink,” she said slowly. “Is she an
enigma?”

 

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.

Author Links

Author on Facebook

Author on Twitter

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress

Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15


RABT Book Tours & PR

BOOK TOUR: The Relic Keeper by Heidi Eljarbo

The Relic Keeper
By Heidi Eljarbo


Publication Date: 18th November 2025
Publisher: Independently Published
Page Length: 162
Genre: Historical Fiction

Praise:
“The Relic Keeper” ultimately stands as a radiant celebration of hope, kindness, and the beauty that emerges when wounded souls dare to reach towards the light. It is a story to savour, reflect upon, and carry with you — an unforgettable addition to Eljarbo’s heartfelt repertoire of novels that bring history to life.
Yarde Book Promotion

ABOUT THE BOOK

Italy, 1620.

Angelo is an orphan, lonely and forgotten. Having been passed on from one family to the next, he ends up as a common thief, subject to and under the thumb of a ruthless robber called Tozzo.

Angelo knows no other life and has lost hope that any chance of providence will ever replace his lonely, misfortunate existence. When he loses his master, his livelihood is shaken. Tozzo’s plunder is hidden in a safe place, but what will happen if someone comes after Angelo to get their hands on the stolen relics? More than that, he feels threatened by words he’s heard too many times; that he’ll always remain unforgiven and doomed.

One day, a priest invites Angelo to help with chores around the church and rectory and, in exchange, offers him room and board. Padre Benedetto’s kindness and respect are unfamiliar and confusing, but Angelo’s safety is still a grave concern. Two older robbers have heard rumors about the hidden treasures and will stop at nothing to attain them.

With literary depictions and imagery, Angelo’s story is a gripping and emotional journey of faint hope and truth in seventeenth-century Italy—an artistic and audacious tale that crosses paths with art collector Vincenzo Giustiniani and the powerful Medici family.

Buy Link:

Universal Buy Link:
https://books2read.com/u/bWgl7W
Read with #KindleUnlimited

EXCERPT

That night, Angelo returned to the church. The street had been quiet. The merchants had packed up their stalls, and the villagers were safely asleep in their homes.

Angelo had been a thief for as long as he could remember, but lately, he’d started debating with himself, wondering whether stealing from a church was considered sacrilegious. God was a stranger…a distant king, and the people who worshipped him seemed more inclined to talk about the devil. Angelo had been the victim of plenty of threats in his short life. If there were a God, what would He think of a lowly thief like Angelo? Would He pour his wrath down on Angelo’s head like hot lava from an erupting volcano, or would He show mercy upon a young man who had experienced little goodness in his life?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

HEIDI ELJARBO grew up in a home full of books, artwork, and happy creativity. She is the author of historical novels filled with courage, hope, mystery, adventure, and sweet romance during challenging times. She’s been named a master of dual timelines and often writes about strong-willed women of past centuries.

After living in Canada, six US states, Japan, Switzerland, and Austria, Heidi now calls Norway home. She lives with her husband on a charming island and enjoys walking in any kind of weather, hugging her grandchildren, and has a passion for art and history. Her family’s chosen retreat is a mountain cabin, where they hike in the summer and ski the vast white terrain during winter.

Heidi’s favorites are her family, God’s beautiful nature, and the word whimsical.

Social Media Links:

Website: https://www.heidieljarbo.com/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorheidieljarbo/

Twitter / X: https://x.com/HeidiEljarbo

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorheidieljarbo/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/heidi-eljarbo

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16984270.Heidi_Eljarbo

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Heidi-Eljarbo/author/B073D852VG

BOOK TOUR: Bound to the Broken Crown by Astoria Hope

We’re celebrating the new release of Bound to the Broken Crown by Astoria Hope!

Bound to the Broken Crown (Magebound Courts #1)

Release Date: January 27, 2026

Genre: Dark Romantasy

  • Beauty and the Beast
  • Empath x Cursed Prince
  • Soft FMC, Stabby MMC
  • Forced proximity
  • Yearning, slow burn
  • Touch-starved, tortured, antihero romance
  • Touch her and die
  • He falls first
  • Only one tent
  • Grumpy x Sunshine

A prince cursed to destroy everything he touched. Until he touched her.

Isca never dreamed her gift for sensing emotions would draw the eyes of princes—let alone the Assembly of Mages. Brought to court under the guise of diplomacy, she quickly learns her secret task: soothe the beast raging under Prince Emrys’ skin and deliver his heir back to the Assembly to forge into a weapon. Refusal means her family’s ruin.
But Emrys is not the monster she expected. Yes, he’s volatile. Yes, he’s destructive and dangerous. Beneath the curse, she glimpses the man—giving, fiercely protective, and unbearably lonely.
To the Assembly, Isca is a tool. To Emrys, she’s a temptation he cannot afford. He pushes her away to protect her, even as his eyes betray the truth: she is the only thing keeping him from drowning.
He could break her with a touch. She could bind him with a heartbeat. While their enemies scheme to use them as pawns, desire threatens to undo every wall they’ve built.

Together, she and Emrys could shatter the Assembly’s chains. But that would mean laying bare her betrayal—the one thing with the power to destroy both the man and the monster.

GET IT HERE

Triggers:

  • Alcohol use
  • Blood
  • Death
  • Fire
  • Gore
  • Infertility (male)
  • Murder
  • Prejudice
  • Profanity
  • Sexually explicit scenes
  • Violence

BOOK TOUR ORGANIZED BY:

R&R BOOK TOURS

SERIES TOUR & GIVEAWAY: The Serpent Series by S.Z. Estavillo

 

Every crime tells a story…

But not every killer is the villain.

The Serpent’s Order

The Serpent Series Book 4

by S.Z. Estavillo

Genre: Thriller, Romantic Suspense

An assassin bound by
obedience. A detective marked for death. A cartel war with no survivors.

Von Schlange thought she’d escaped her past. Now Black Nova owns her—an elite,
off-the-books task force where obedience is survival and failure means death.
As their newest assassin, she’s unleashed on targets tied to Jaxon Ryker, a
drug lord buried deep in the Alaskan wilds.

Her partner, Xander Holt, a former Navy SEAL with ice in his veins, lives by
the same brutal code: no attachments, no lines crossed. But as missions turn
bloody, the fragile boundary between partner and lover begins to blur—and desire
becomes its own kind of danger.

Across the country, Detective Anaya Nazario faces a nightmare of her own. A
synthetic “zombie drug,” deadlier than fentanyl and immune to Narcan, is
ripping through Los Angeles. Her investigation exposes a network of dirty cops
shielding Ryker’s empire—and puts a target squarely on her back.

Two women on opposite fronts. One war against corruption and cartel power. And
a single truth—every betrayal leaves a body behind.

Explosive, unrelenting, and razor-sharp, The Serpent’s Order propels the
Serpent Series into its most dangerous chapter yet—where justice is a myth, and
survival comes at a price paid in blood.

 

**NEW RELEASE on Feb 10, 2026! PreOrder Now!**

Amazon * Bookbub
* Goodreads

Twilight of the
Serpent

The Serpent Series Book 3

Some predators hide
in plain sight. Others hunt from the shadows.

Merrick Winslow is a decorated Army officer, a man of discipline and honor—or
so he claims. When he reports that his ex-wife, Cheonsa Soo-Min, has been
stalking him, no one questions his story. He paints her as unstable, vengeful,
and dangerous, a woman consumed by obsession. But when two officers are gunned
down with her own weapon, the truth becomes harder to see. With the law closing
in, Cheonsa vanishes, fleeing to Rio de Janeiro, where she is taken in by Von
Schlange, the vigilante thought to have disappeared for good.

Von has retired her vengeful ways, leaving behind a life of bloodshed to run a
quiet veterinary clinic. But when Cheonsa’s past collides with Winslow’s lies,
the two women begin to unravel a deadly deception—one that turns predator into
prey. By the time Von uncovers the truth, an innocent life has already been
taken.

Now, there’s only one thing left to do: find the real monster and make him pay.

Meanwhile, in Los Angeles, Detective Anaya Nazario and Supervising Special
Agent Blake Huxley are adjusting to life as new parents. But after only four
months of maternity leave, Nazario is pulled back into the field to investigate
the murder of two officers. What should be a straightforward case quickly
spirals into something far more sinister—secrets buried beneath the badge, a
killer hiding behind a uniform, and a web of corruption stretching further than
anyone expected.

As Nazario and Huxley chase down leads, their investigation intersects with a
vigilante they once thought was dead. And this time, Von Schlange isn’t just
seeking justice—she’s delivering retribution.

For fans of Karin Slaughter, Gillian Flynn, and Taylor Adams, Twilight of
the Serpent delivers a high-stakes vigilante thriller packed with morally gray
justice, relentless suspense, and a tangled web of deception. Perfect for
readers who love strong female leads, intense cat-and-mouse chases, and dark
psychological twists.

 

Amazon * Bookbub
* Goodreads

 

The Serpent Woman

The Serpent Series Book 2

The exciting sequel to The Serpent’s Bridge…

A serial killer is on the loose. With her insidious tattoo and venomous killer
strike, they’re calling her the serpent woman.

Two of the best in their field, LAPD Detective Anaya Nazario and FBI
Supervising Special Agent Blake Huxley are forced to work together yet again,
despite their strained romantic history and a baby on the way. Together on a
nationwide hunt, they must find this serpent woman before she strikes again.

But, as the cat-and-mouse chase evolves, Nazario and Huxley begin to realize
that their killer is on a mission of vigilante justice and they must struggle
with the question of who really deserves their justice: The killer, or her
victims?

This dark thriller delves into the sensitive topics of sex trafficking,
child abuse, animal death, sexual assault, graphic violence, and dead bodies.
Reader discretion is advised.

 

Amazon * Bookbub
* Goodreads

The Serpent’s Bridge

The Serpent Series Book 1 

Compelling
dialogue, rich, gritty prose, and characters you won’t forget — if you loved
The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets Nest by Stieg Larsson, or Ink and Bone by Lisa
Unger, you’ll love The Serpent’s Bridge.

Recovering alcoholic Detective Anaya Nazario remains haunted by her father’s
murder. Lucas Nazario was the highest-ranking Puerto Rican LAPD detective, and
his case has gone unsolved for twenty-four years since his murder. When Mexican
immigrants are targeted by a serial killer, Nazario senses a connection and
fights to keep the leadless case open. The homicide investigation centers on
Sanctuary Baptist, a church composed of immigrants led by Pastor Stan and his
wife. Nazario’s personal and professional worlds collide when she is compelled
to collaborate with her former lover, Special Agent Blake Huxley. As their
lives merge once more, the FBI and Detective Nazario stop at nothing to find a
killer.

Is this the same monster who killed her father and left him for dead under a
bridge?

Can she put a stop to the murders before more families lose loved ones?

 

Amazon * Bookbub
* Goodreads

Get the Box set duo for Only $2.99 for a limited time!

Get it on Amazon!

As a BIPOC thriller author, she previously parted amicably
with her agent and, three months later, secured an eight-book deal with
Oliver-Heber Books—now boasting 24,000 downloads in its first year and a
BookRaid bestseller ranking in the thriller category. The Serpent Woman (Book
2) reached #1 on Amazon and topped all three of its categories. Her background
spans literary agencies and TV studios, where she contributed to greenlit
screenplays that became Lifetime movies. She holds a Master’s in Television,
Radio, and Film, has taught author branding workshops (L.A. Writer’s
Conference, North Texas RWA), and maintains a 100K+ social media following.

 

Website * Facebook * X * Instagram * Bluesky * TikTok * Bookbub * Amazon
* Goodreads

 

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a $20 giveaway!

Enter The Serpent Series Giveaway Here

BOOK BLITZ & GIVEAWAY: To Hell and Back by Bill Blume

To Hell and Back
Bill Blume
Publication date: January 20th 2026
Genres: Adult, Fantasy

For one pair of swordfighters, their marriage is worth going to Hell and back.

Ty and Dani are a modern-day, swordfighting husband-and-wife duo who help with exorcisms until a demon kills Dani’s mother and all of their fellow exorcists. Now, they’re on a quest for revenge through the realms of Hell, and killing the demon is just the start of the journey. To keep the demon from reviving, Dani and Ty must escape Hell within seven days and cast the demon’s head and heart into an Eternal Flame. To get back to the mortal realm in time, they rely on their small terrier Wicket to lead them past the demon’s army and thousands of other horrors.

To Hell and Back takes readers on an epic journey perfect for those who believe love can overcome any challenge and that a devoted dog makes the perfect guide no matter where you need to go.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble

EXCERPT:

They didn’t drive far, parking on a cobblestone street next to the café, sitting on a street corner. The entire front wall of the café was made up of tall doors that were all turned open to take advantage of the pleasant spring weather. Ty sucked down his coffee. It tasted stronger than what he preferred, but as tired as he was, he considered that a good thing.

“I imagine you have a lot of questions.” Maria sat at one of the tables closest to the sidewalk with people dressed in business suits and hospital scrubs walking by. She crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair, draping her arm over the back of it.

“I’m told you work for the church?” He decided against gambling on whether it was the Catholic or Episcopal Church.

“Heard that, did you?” She cracked an amused grin, as if she’d been privy to his conversation with Barry. “That’s only partially true. We’re funded by the Church of England, but we don’t answer to them.”

Taking a chug of his coffee, Ty then asked, “And who is we?”

“A fair question, and I’ll get to that soon enough.” She paused for her own sip of coffee. When she continued, she stared out at the street as cars rumbled across the cobblestones. “I’d like to talk about you a bit first. I notice you’ve started the transition.”

“The what?”

“Oh, you’re trying to find a way to make a living off that sword arm of yours that doesn’t require a nine-to-five job typing on a keyboard or some other nonsense. You’re going the usual route: giving lessons to wannabes drunk on fantasies of medieval knights or Star Wars. You know. The usual stuff.” She looked at him with a smirk that assured him she already knew the answer to her next question. “You enjoying all that?”

He cleared his throat and sniffed. His sinuses were still killing him.

“I’m paying my bills.” He shrugged, trying to mimic her nonchalance by turning his focus out onto the street and the passersby. Didn’t keep him from seeing her amused reaction to his answer, that she knew he was full of shit.

Yeah, he’d taken to giving part-time lessons at a local fencing club that included saber fighting. Most of the job seemed more about punishing clients into the realization that they weren’t going to turn into Inigo Montoya overnight and that fighting with a sword required both finesse and brutality. Being good with a sword required a killer instinct. Forcing others with limited skills to realize they didn’t have that certain something was taking a toll on him.

“Look, Mr. Faison.” She leaned forward, crossing her arms on the table. “For some people that’s enough, and that’s fine.” The way she said “fine” left little doubt it was anything but that. “But someone like you…” She shook her head.

He tried to bluff, acting amused and disinterested, but his acting skills failed him again. “You think so?”

The way her expression hardened, that single eye narrowing on him, forced his full focus on her. “I think you’re the kind of person who’s only ever whole when he’s got a sword in his hand and a real fight in front of him.”

She leaned back in her chair again, with all the satisfaction of a wildcat dining on a fresh kill. The silence offered him a chance to respond, but she’d left him speechless. No one had ever peeled him down to his bones like this—not even his parents—not this fast or with such ease.

After giving him his chance to answer and seeing he wasn’t able to, Maria sipped her coffee and then continued. “You’re twenty-six. You used to finish in the top three at most competitions you entered but you haven’t in more than a year. It’s not that your skills or body are fading, and it’s not because you’re distracted by the side work that pays the bills. No, it’s because even the competitions are starting to bore you. Those fights aren’t real anymore, because all that’s at stake there is pride.”

“And what? You’re offering me a ‘real fight’? What is this? Some kind of underground sword fight club, where the loser dies, and the first rule is to not talk about it?”

She shook her head, grinning at his attempt at wit. “This is no game or club. Underground? Somewhat. But what you’ll be doing will make a real difference in people’s lives. I’m offering you a chance to reclaim that fire that ignited the moment you first touched a sword.

“I’m giving you a chance to find your heart.”

Author Bio:

Bill Blume discovered his love for the written word while in high school and has been writing ever since. His latest novel, West of Apocalypse, is now available from Time Killer Publishing. His short stories have been published in many fantasy anthologies and various ezines.

Like the father figure in his “Gidion Keep, Vampire Hunter” novels, Bill works as a 911 dispatcher for Henrico County Police and has done so for more than two decades. He served as the 2013 chair for James River Writers, which produces one of the nation’s best annual conferences for educating and connecting writers.

He graduated from the University of South Carolina with a degree in Broadcast Journalism in 1995. In the years after, he worked as a TV news producer, first in Columbus, Georgia, and then in Richmond, Virginia, which has become home for Bill & his family.

You can learn more about Bill at his website: http://www.billblume.net.

Website / Goodreads / Instagram / Facebook


GIVEAWAY!

To Hell and Back Blitz


RELEASE BLITZ: Tilthos Pack by Emily Carrington

Title: Tilthos Pack

Author: Emily Carrington

Publisher: Changeling Press

Cover Art: Angela Knight

Genres: Action Adventure, Box Sets, Dark Fantasy, Mystery & Suspense, New Releases, Paranormal, Romance, Urban Fantasy

Themes: Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures, LGBTQ+ /Gay, Multicultural & Interracial, Vampires, Werewolves & Wolf Shifters

Series: Tilthos Pack (#4)

Multiverse: SearchLight Academy (#10)

Book Length: Box Set

Page Count: 334

Synopsis

Lovers who have stood the test of time find themselves on unsteady ground. Can their love prevail despite the terror working its way through the pack?

Wedding a Genie: Mark and Luke are getting married… or are they? Mark’s pride may not allow him to show how he feels to a roomful of his nearest and dearest.

The Mating Ceremony: Ethan and Jeremy have been forced into a mating ceremony. Can their love survive their pack traditions?

The Separation: Separated by hundreds of miles and a promise, Charlie and Luis long for each other. Will their love survive?

A Solstice Sundering: When Ethan is ordered back to the pack, his strained relationship with Jeremy comes to the forefront. Can they weather this storm?

Uncertain Foundations: Lovers who have stood the test of time find themselves on unsteady ground. Can their love prevail?

Excerpt

Tilthos Pack
Emily Carrington
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2026 Emily Carrington
Excerpt from Wedding a Genie

Mark paced. He was dressed, finally, in his coat and tie, his hair tamed. He looked almost the same as he did every day for work, except this was a tux, not just a suit. And it wasn’t black, like the majority of his dress clothes. Luke had picked out a soft brown garment that complemented Mark’s deep tan and his dark brown hair. The tie he wore was the same blue as his eyes. The tie clip, which he hadn’t even known was a thing until Luke produced it, was golden and in the shape of a dragon.

He looked good.

But he longed to rip off all his clothes and go for a swim in the Gulf of Mexico.

Someone knocked on the door to the “groom’s” changing room on the boat he and Luke had rented for their wedding. Mark quit pacing and forced his hands not to shake. “Come in.”

His brother, Jonathan, stepped in and shut the door. “Are you all right?”

Mark scowled. “Why?”

To his surprise, Jonathan didn’t snap right back. “Because I was nervous as hell when I got married to Becca,” he said quietly “And you haven’t known Luke half as long as I knew Becca before I proposed.

“Besides, Mark,” he added, “I know you. Making a change like this is difficult at the best of times and you’ve just been promoted. You’re trying to get your feet under you.”

Mark let out a long sigh. “You’re right, I’m nervous. I love him, I want to be with him for the rest of my life. Why am I so jittery?”

“Like I said, it’s a big change.” Jonathan turned for the door.

“That’s it? You’re going to come in here, confront me about my nerves, and then just walk out?”

“You’re calmer now,” Jonathan pointed out.

Mark huffed a laugh. “I still want to go for a swim in the gulf.”

“As long as you get back here in time to dry yourself off, I don’t see why that’s a problem. It’s almost an hour before…” Jonathan tilted his head and said, “Or maybe Luke’s presence would help.”

Mark’s tension rocketed up from a five all the way to a ten. “Luke?” he squeaked.

Jonathan left the room and Luke stood in the doorway with two tall glasses in his hands. “I know we’re not supposed to see each other before the wedding,” Luke said, sounding apologetic. “But do you mind if I come in?”

Mark took two steps back and gestured his soon-to-be-husband inside. Luke used his magic to close the door without touching it.

“Showoff,” Mark teased weakly.

“Genie prerogative,” Luke answered. He took a sip from the glass in his left hand and offered Mark the other one.

It was a rum and Coke; Mark sensed that even before he could smell the contents. Luke knew what relaxed him. “You could feel my agitation all the way from the other side of the boat, huh?” he asked as he sipped. And then took a little more because Luke just made this particular drink so perfectly.

Luke, being a genie, Mark’s former genie, had a connection to Mark’s emotions. Sort of like the telepathic link Mark had to Luke, although in that case it was because of Mark’s dragon genetics. For Luke, it had everything to do with the rules that governed his species. Or at least that was what he and Mark had decided. Probably, if SearchLight ever chose to study genies more thoroughly, they would find a different, or at least more exact, answer.

Luke nodded, his golden eyebrows drawn together in a worried frown. He set his glass on a handy table and crossed to Mark. “What’s wrong?”

Damn, but Luke looked good. Mark traced the lapel of his lover’s tux. Brown, like Mark’s, but a lighter shade. Luke had really coordinated everything. “You look like a sex god,” Mark murmured.

That got him a brief smile but then Luke’s serious expression returned. “Talk to me, my Mark. What’s making you so jumpy?”

Mark didn’t know how to lay hands on the source of his nervousness and so he simply shook his head. He, too, set his glass down and wrapped his arms tightly around Luke, resting his cheek against his lover’s shoulder. His whole body wanted to shake and he held it at bay. He felt so safe in Luke’s embrace.

“Okay, so this is helping,” Luke correctly interpreted. “I can just hold you during the whole ceremony if you want.”

Mark tensed. “I don’t want…” He stepped back.

The look on Luke’s face was that of a stricken calf.

Mark hugged him close again. “It’s not you, it’s me, and I know that sounds like a crock of shit but…” He rubbed Luke’s back. “Please understand… I’m sorry… I don’t know how to explain but I’m so sorry…” He let his words fade away as Luke placed a gentle kiss on his hair. Mark couldn’t help thinking he shouldn’t feel this way, not when he was the head of a whole damned department, he’d known Luke for three plus years, and he all but worshiped the ground his genie lover walked on. Why was he feeling so defensive?

“I’m feeling vulnerable,” he whispered as the truth made itself known.

Luke’s voice in his ear was unfailingly soothing and warm. “If you want, we can postpone or…” His swallow was audible in Mark’s ear.

Purchase at Changeling Press

Meet the Author

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender women’s speculative fiction. Seeking a world made of equality, she created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires. And in the contemporary world she’s named “Sticks & Stones,” Emily has vowed to create small towns where prejudice is challenged by a passionate quest for equality. Find her on Facebook at Shapeshifter Central or on her website.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Shapeshifter Central

 

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BOOK TOUR & GIVEAWAY: All the Shadows We Become by Dustin Blackwall

When the shadows come alive, Ava and Caleb discover the only
safe place is in each other’s arms.

But the closer they get, the darker the
truth becomes.

All the Shadows We
Become

by Dustin Blackwall

Genre: YA Romantasy Thriller

Caleb Ward is trying to forget the night he almost died.
Ava Lin is trying to understand why he survived.

But Hollow Creek isn’t letting either of them move on.

What starts as a strange blackout spirals into a trail of
eerie clues, shifting shadows, and a connection between Ava and Caleb that
grows hotter and more undeniable with every new secret uncovered.

Something happened
that night.
Something dangerous.
And it’s waking up.

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* Goodreads

The lights exploded into darkness so fast
it felt like the whole world had been switched off. One second, the fairgrounds
pulsed with noise; the next, a hush dropped over everything – thick, heavy,
wrong. Ava’s breath caught in her throat as the shadows around the tents
stretched, bending in directions that didn’t match the lanterns flickering
overhead.

“Caleb…”
She didn’t even finish his name. Her hand shot out on instinct, finding his
fingers in the dark. His grip closed around hers immediately – warm, tight,
desperate – anchoring her like a lifeline.

Static rolled through the air, not sound
but pressure, brushing across her skin like cold fingertips. The wind
picked up and carried the faint smell of scorched leaves and metal. Somewhere
behind them, a ride creaked slowly, even though nothing was moving it.

Caleb stepped close enough that she felt
the heat of his chest at her shoulder.
“I’m here,” he whispered, voice low and unsteady.
Something moved at the corner of her vision
– a ripple of shadow that stole her breath. But Caleb was already there,
guiding her back against him, solid and unwavering.
The world still trembled, but she didn’t. Not with his strength at her back. In
that moment, she felt it with aching clarity: as long as he held her, she could
face anything.

All around them, people shouted – fragmented
cries swallowed by the dark. A string of carnival lights fizzled overhead,
sputtering blue sparks that made the shadows jump like living ink.

Ava squeezed his hand harder.
“We have to move,” she said, though she wasn’t sure which direction was safe
anymore.

Caleb turned, pulling her with him, and in
that split-second flash of dying light, she saw his face – terrified,
determined, and somehow still looking at her like she was the one thing in this
chaos he trusted.

The ground trembled.

The shadows bent again.

And together, hand in hand, they ran toward
whatever waited in the dark.

 

Can you, for those who don’t know you already, tell something about yourself and how you became an author?

I come from very humble beginnings in a small town in British Columbia. I worked the usual jobs you find in places like that — the kind that teach you patience, grit, and a deep appreciation for people. Eventually I made my way to Vancouver, where I built a career in Architectural Drafting. It was steady work, and for a long time it felt like the right path.

But somewhere along the way, something stopped resonating. I realized I was getting older, and that the little voice that had always whispered “follow your passion” wasn’t going to quiet down on its own. So I made a choice — a hopeful, slightly terrifying, wonderfully exciting choice — to finally listen.

And that’s how I found my way back to storytelling.

Writing lets me share the worlds I’ve carried with me for years… and invite readers into places where shadows glitch, secrets breathe beneath small towns, and ordinary people discover extraordinary courage. I’m grateful every day for anyone who chooses to walk into those stories with me.

What is something unique/quirky about you?

I’m a tad nerdy.

Where were you born/grew up at?

I grew up in a little town a few hours from Vancouver, B.C. — and when I say little, I mean little. It’s the kind of place where everyone knows everyone, and where the biggest claim to fame is being the crossroads of four major highways.

I didn’t stay long, though. Even as a kid, I felt this tug toward something bigger, something just beyond the tree line. It is beautiful, but the opportunities I was looking for weren’t there. So I carried those early memories with me — the quiet streets, the mountains close enough to touch, that sense of being on the edge of something unknown — and they found their way into my stories later.

Those small-town roots are still a part of me, and they shape the worlds I write. There’s something special about places where secrets linger just beneath the surface… and shadows sometimes feel alive.

If you knew you’d die tomorrow, how would you spend your last day?

Laying the back of my truck on a clear night with a blanket watching the universe move across the sky.

Who is your hero and why?

One of my greatest inspirations has always been Carl Sagan. There was something extraordinary about the way he looked at the universe — not with cold detachment, but with wonder, curiosity, and a deep sense of humanity. His work opened doors in my mind, inviting me to think bigger, dream wider, and explore ideas I might never have considered otherwise.

I still miss his voice, his gentle wisdom, and the way he made the cosmos feel both vast and intimate. His influence hasn’t faded for me; it’s woven into the way I see the world and into the stories I try to tell. He reminded all of us that imagination and science, wonder and truth, can live side by side — and that there’s beauty in asking the next question.

What do you do to unwind and relax?

I love getting outside whenever I can. Camping, being out in the fresh air, just letting the world slow down a little — it does something good for the soul. And when I really want to let loose, I’ll take my dirt bike out and ride until I’m completely worn out. There’s something freeing about it, like shaking off all the stress at once and coming back to myself.

Describe yourself in 5 words or less!

So far out of the box I can’t even see it anymore

When did you first consider yourself a writer?

Honestly… I’m not sure I ever had a single moment where it clicked. Writing has been a gradual transition for me — a quiet shift rather than a dramatic one. I’m still getting used to the idea, and maybe that’s okay.

What I do know is that somewhere along the way, the stories I carried inside me started asking for space. They wanted to be written, shaped, shared. And every time I sit down to put those worlds onto the page, I feel a little more like the person I’m becoming — someone who tells stories because they matter to me, and hopefully to readers too.

So whether I call myself a “writer” or not, I’m grateful to be on this path, learning as I go, and inviting others into the worlds I create.

Do you have a favorite movie?

My favorite movie? I think I’d have to choose 2010. There’s something about it that still feels awe-inspiring to me — that sense of scale, of mystery, of looking out into the universe and realizing how small and extraordinary we really are.

It’s epic in the quietest, most meaningful way, and every time I watch it I’m reminded why stories about the unknown resonate so deeply. They make us curious. They make us dream. They invite us to imagine what else might be out there… and what might already be waiting for us.

Which of your novels can you imagine made into a movie?

LOL.  Not there yet. I’m still surprised I got published!

Light Years to
Midnight

by Dustin Blackwall

Genre: SciFi Thriller

When data itself begins to speak, who decides what it’s
trying to say?

Light Years To Midnight — a globe-spanning thriller where science, faith, and
code collide in a race against a countdown written into the fabric of reality.

The wind whipped dust across the plateau as Jonas crested
the ridge, breath burning in his throat. Below him, the satellite dishes of the
abandoned relay station stretched into the dark like a field of frozen giants.
Their metal frames groaned under the rising storm, each bent toward the same
invisible point on the horizon.

He wasn’t alone.

A faint beam of light—too controlled to be an
accident—flickered between the dishes. Jonas crouched, heart thudding, watching
as a woman stepped into view, her silhouette sharp against the skeletal
machinery. She moved with the alertness of someone who had been running for far
too long.

Elena.

He had seen her face in files, in encrypted packets, in the
warnings that had chased him across continents. But seeing her here, in the
flesh, felt unreal—like walking into a photograph he wasn’t meant to
understand.

Before he could speak, a second figure emerged from the
opposite end of the array. Maya paused only when she spotted Elena, recognition
flaring across her face. They had never met, not really, but the anomaly had
braided their paths tightly enough that the moment felt inevitable.

Jonas stood and lifted a hand, but movement in the distance
froze him mid-step.

Engines.

Low, tactical, deliberate.

A convoy approached from the north, its headlights dark, its
tires crunching through gravel like muffled gunfire. Special
operations—unmarked, unhurried, confident. Not hunters, but collectors.

Elena’s eyes locked on his.
“Are they here for you,” she whispered, “or for all of us?”

Maya stepped closer, her breath sharp in the cold air. “Does
it matter?”

Something pulsed beneath the earth—three beats, a pause,
three more—vibrating up through the metal frames of the dishes. The sky above
them shimmered, faint but unmistakable, as if answering the rhythm.

Jonas swallowed hard.

“No,” he said. “It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s already
found us.”

Dustin is a lifelong fan of science and speculative fiction,
blending his fascination with astronomy, technology, and the unknown into
stories that explore the edge between logic and wonder. When he’s not writing,
he’s reading, stargazing, or chasing trails on his dirt bike — always searching
for what lies just beyond understanding.

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* Goodreads

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and a $20 giveaway!

Enter the All The Shadows We Become Giveaway Here