Book Blitz & Review: Shifting Silence by Laura Bickle #UrbanFantasy @Laura_Bickle

Shifting Silence 

Mane Shift

Book One
Laura Bickle 
 
Genre: Urban Fantasy, Fantasy
 
ASIN: B08X51X1RQ
 
Publisher: Syrenka Publishing LLC
 
Publication Date: February 21, 2021

Book Description:

This witch takes in strays. Stray animals, not stray ex-boyfriends, magical cultists, or shifters.

At least, that used to be the rule…

Luna Summerwood has always taken in strays. As a witch who runs a veterinary clinic, she’s healed creatures that fly, swim, and crawl. She’s not the most powerful Summerwood witch; her only magic is the ability to communicate with animals. But when an exotic maned wolf
is brought to her in the dead of night, Luna is plunged into the shadowy underground world of shifter trafficking.

With the help of her ex-boyfriend—who also happens to be a local deputy and someone who pushes all her buttons—she investigates a series of occult crimesinvolving missing farm animals. After her ex is nearly killed, Luna discovers thatthe Casimir, a cult of magical
collectors, plans to steal the maned wolf.

This beautiful maned wolf is more than he seems—he’s a shapeshifting man named Renan.He was once captured by the Casimir and forced to do their dark bidding. Luna is his last chance at finding sanctuary…and perhaps love.

But the Casimir want more than just Renan. Centuries ago, the Summerwoods warred with the Casimir. Now, these sorcerers will stop at nothing to possess the Summerwood land and theburied magic of the witches themselves.

Amazon

Excerpt 1

My skin was crawling. That guy was one of the Casimir sorcerers…I had to warn Sandy and her deputies. I jogged up the gravel driveway, past the mailbox, to the parked sheriff’s car. Something was weird about the car. The windows were rolled up, and water leaked in a stream from beneath the car, too much to be condensation from air conditioning.

“Hey,” I said, knocking on the dirty passenger side window, trying to get the attention of the deputy who sat there, staring through his sunglasses at his phone.

But he didn’t move.

It took me a second to realize that the car was full of water.

Dread pooling in my belly, I yanked open the car door. Water splashed all over my legs, nearly knocking me over. The whole interior of the car reeked of magic. I staggered back to the car to touch the guy’s neck.

I couldn’t feel a pulse. He was dead.

Tires squealed on gravel. Down the road, the Jeep swerved, as if there were a fight going on inside.

I reached into the deputy’s gun belt and yanked out his gun. I had no idea how well it would work after being underwater, but I needed something to protect myself. I slammed my fingers to the radio, but it had shorted out.

I looked up again to see a long-legged canine loping down the road, toward the Jeep. I recognized Renan in the shape of a maned wolf. Running as fast as he could, ears pinned back, he was gaining on the Jeep.

I ran down the road. I couldn’t let Voss escape now. He knew where I lived, and he would surely see Renan alive now. If he told the rest of the Casimir, we were dead.

The Jeep swerved and landed in the ditch, rolling onto its side in about two feet of standing water. Renan jumped onto the Jeep’s passenger door and growled, the hair standing up on his back.

I aimed the gun at the Jeep and advanced slowly. “Come out with your hands up!” I ordered, trying to think of what Dalton would say.

A thumping sound echoed inside the Jeep, sounding like a hammer. Something heavy struck the windshield, and the glass broke into a spiderweb of pieces before the busted sheet of safety glass was shoved out onto the hood.

“Oh, hell,” I whispered as a crocodile crawled out over the hood of the Jeep.

“Freeze!” I shouted, staring over the dead deputy’s gun.

But the crocodile glared at me toothily. With shocking speed for such a chunky animal, it scrambled up the hood toward me.

I pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

“Damn it.”

Renan jumped on the crocodile’s back, his teeth scrambling for purchase on the thick reptilian hide. The crocodile swept back and forth, shaking its head and tail, trying to dislodge the maned wolf. The scuffle pushed them off the Jeep and drew them into the mud of the ditch.

As furious as he fought, I knew that Renan was no match for the crocodile. I had to find a way to help. I dove at the passenger door of the Jeep. I ripped it open and yelled for the ranger within.

But he was going to be of no help. The interior of the Jeep was splashed with blood, and Ranger Perkins seemed to be doing his best to hold his guts in with both hands.

“Your gun,” I gasped, and lunged for his belt.

“What the hell is happening?” he murmured weakly. “You gotta get away. You gotta—”

I scrambled through the ruined windshield, gun aimed before me. Renan was holding on to the crocodile’s neck for dear life, while the croc started a barrel roll in the narrow ditch. Dirty water splashed all around them, and I had a hard time sighting the gun in on my target without risking hitting Renan.

I slid down the hood of the Jeep and landed in the ditch, water up to my knees. The croc’s black eye emerged, and its jaws snapped toward me. I aimed at the croc’s head and pulled the trigger not once, but twice, three times…

The crocodile flopped back into the water. Renan jumped to the bank panting, and the croc grew still as the roar of the gunfire receded.

Shaking, I lowered the gun.

“Will that do it?” I whispered. “Will that kill him, or will he heal?”

Renan walked toward me. As he moved, I heard the crunch of his bones reorganizing, limbs lengthening. I stared in fascination, watching that red fur ripple over him and fade, twisting into the shape of a man.

“I think he’s dead. And there’s no healing the dead,” Renan said.

MY REVIEW

5-stars!

I wasn’t sure what to expect when I started this book, but it was fabulous!

Witches, shifters, dark magic and more fill the pages of this amazing, page-turning fantasy. An epic battle between good and evil, mystery and suspense, along with some romance, make this an enthralling tale.

Luna Summerwood is a strong, talented witch, even if she only feels mediocre. Her gift of speaking to animals made this book a quick favorite for me. Toss in evil witches who date back centuries and I couldn’t put the book down.

The romance between Luna and Renan is understated, but it’s left me eager to find out more about the couple. While the attraction is there, the romantic elements were few and far between in this one with an emphasis more on fantasy. But it worked. The book flows well, with few editing errors.

If you want a gripping fantasy with mystery and romance, you can’t go wrong with Shifting Silence.

*Disclaimer: I received an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

About the Author:

Laura Bickle grew up in rural Ohio, reading entirely too
many comic books out loud to her favorite Wonder Woman doll. She now dreams up stories about the monsters under the stairs and sometimes reads them to her cats. Her books have earned starred reviews from Publishers Weekly and Kirkus.
Laura’s work has also been included in the ALA’s Amelia Bloomer Project 2013 reading list and the State Library of Ohio’s Choose to Read Ohio reading list for 2015-2016. The latest updates on her work can be found at authorlaurabickle.com.

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Website: https://www.authorlaurabickle.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Laura_Bickle

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

Enraptured: The Discovery by Barbara Bretton #PNR #holidays

Holiday Songs
I’m not a fan of Christmas
decorations popping up the week before Halloween, but when it comes to holiday
music, all bets are off. We all know that music has magical properties that
defy logic. Two random notes from an old top ten hit and suddenly you’re
fifteen again, crushing over the boy next door.
Now multiply that burst of
emotion by one hundred and you have the magic of holiday music. And not just
the standard (and wonderful) Christmas carols. Some surprising choices have
been known to sneak onto my list of favorites. See if you agree.
Feliz Navidad – Shoprite has the
clever habit of blasting Jose Feliciano’s version throughout the store and
every time it sends me dancing up the aisles, buying way more stuff than any
normal human being could possible eat.
Santa Baby – Eartha Kitt is a
favorite of mine. This is a wickedly sexy take on the holidays.
The Chipmunks Christmas Song
(Christmas Don’t Be Late) – I was nine years old! I can’t be held accountable
for my taste in music. Of course, that doesn’t explain why it still makes me
smile from ear to ear.
Good King Wenceslas – What can I
say? I love this song.
Have Yourself a Merry Little
Christmas – and pass the Kleenex. The title alone is enough to make me cry.
So what are your favorite (and
maybe unexpected) choices?

 

Enraptured: The Discovery

The Sugar Maple Chronicles

Book Seven

Barbara Bretton

 

 

 

Genre:  Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Free Spirit Press
Date of Publication:  October 15, 2019
ASIN:  B07Y2PLWXG
Number of pages:  255
Word Count: 66,000
Cover Artist: Barbara Bretton
Tagline:  Welcome to Sugar Maple – where nothing is quite the way it seems
Book Description:
Chloe Hobbs, knit shop owner extraordinaire and de facto mayor of the picture-postcard perfect New England town, has faced danger to her beloved home before but this time she might have met her match.
When tech billionaire Jack Whittaker crashes his small plane in the middle of the Holiday Street Fair, the town’s future is suddenly in jeopardy. Plunged into a whirlwind of magick and mystery that includes Fae warriors and flying babies, Jack discovers a secret cave where a reflecting pool offers tantalizing glimpses into both the past and the future.
With two lives hanging in the balance, Chloe is in a race against time to uncover the secrets hidden inside the cave before it’s too late.
Excerpt:

Are you a worrier?

Since the birth of my daughter last year, I have become a world-class, gold medal-winning worrier. I worry that Laria isn’t getting enough sleep and then, when she’s snuggled down for the night, I lurk in the doorway to her room and listen for the soft sound of her breathing.  I worry that she isn’t getting enough milk. I worry about the transition to solids. I worry about childproofing our cottage. I worry about potty training and her first day of school.

Mostly I worry about what she’s going to be when she grows up. All things considered, that’s pretty silly because everyone in Sugar Maple knows that Laria’s future had been determined long before she was born.

But, then again, so was mine.

I’m Chloe Hobbs, the half-sorceress/half-human owner of Sticks & Strings, the most popular yarn shop in New England. (And maybe the entire east coast . . . not that I’m proud of it, or anything.) I’m also the de factomayor of Sugar Maple, one of those postcard-perfect towns Vermont is famous for, a picturesque throwback to simpler times.

At least, that’s what we want you to think.

The truth is, there is a lot more to our small town than meets the eye. My BFF Janice, who owns the spa across the street, is a Harvard-educated witch married to a strapping selkie. Lynette, my other BFF, is a shapeshifter. She and her husband and kids keep our local theater up and running. A werewolf and his sons operate the hardware store.

A Norwegian troll named Lilith maintains both our library and our historical society. Three generations of Fae run the Sugar Maple Inn and restaurant. Don’t laugh, but a team of vampires own the funeral home.

And that’s just for starters.

We have been hiding here in plain sight since my sorceress ancestor Aerynn fled the horrors of Salem centuries ago to found a sanctuary for other magicks like her.

I’m not bragging when I say that for over three hundred years, we’ve done a pretty good job of flying below the radar. The fact that you didn’t know about us is proof of that. Thanks to a protective charm created by Aerynn, we have been able to escape discovery even while living and working among humans. I’ll admit, however, that it was a lot easier before the Internet and drones and smartphones became part of our daily lives.

And there are a few old-timers around town who would say I was the biggest threat of all. We were already a popular stop for tourists looking to experience a trip to nostalgic, old school New England, when the runaway success of Sticks & Strings added a steady stream of knitters to our village. Now I’m not saying knitters are nosier than your average visitor, but nothing much gets by them. A dedicated knitter can sniff out a bargain three towns away and will do anything to reel that treasure in.

But knitters go home at night, something you can’t always say about relatives.

 

 

About the Author:
Barbara Bretton is the award-winning, USA Today bestselling author of fifty books. Her titles have been published in twelve languages in over twenty countries by Harlequin, Berkley, Crown, Pocket, and Free Spirit Press. When Barbara isn’t writing, she can be found knitting, reading, and cooking in New Jersey with her husband and a house filled with pets.
Newsletter: http://bit.ly/2WW7s2h

 

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Book Tour: Annie’s Gift by Barbara Bretton #PNR #holidays

Barbara Bretton Deck the Halls InstaAnnie’s Gift
Rocky Hill Holiday Romance
Book Five
Barbara Bretton

Genre:  Paranormal romance

Publisher: Free Spirit Press

Date of Publication:  2017

ISBN:1973271575
ASIN:  B077BF911C
Number of pages:  80
Word Count:  20,000

Cover Artist: Erin Dameron-Hill

Because love never dies… 

Everyone knows Christmas is a time for family but not for Harry Barnes. If he had his way, he would close his eyes and not open them again until January second when all the fuss was over. Once upon a time he had loved the season but that was a long time ago. His wife Annie and daughter Erin are gone and he hasn’t spoken to his only son, Sam, in years.

The Christmas candlesticks he’d lovingly carved for Annie and their children are buried in the attic under a thick layer of dust along with memories that could break a man’s heart . . . if he still had one left to break.

After years of living on military bases all around the world, Sam Barnes has moved his family back home for keeps but they might as well still be in Japan or England or Timbuktu for all the difference it makes. His father’s heart is still closed to the idea of family and there is nothing Sam can do to change it. Not even if the only thing his twelve-year-old daughter Riley wants for Christmas is the grandfather she has never met.

But then on a snowy Christmas Eve in Rocky Hill, Harry and Sam are visited by a determined mother and daughter who have just a few earth hours to bring their family together or lose them forever.

Amazon

Annie's Gift Deck the Halls with Books

When it comes to the holidays, I am a traditionalist. Whether it’s the movies we watch, the music we listen to, or the food we eat, I look forward to revisiting those old (and beloved) favorites every single year.

One of our most cherished traditions is our Christmas Eve Brownie Extravaganza. Deep. Dark. Still warm from the oven. Crowned with a ginormous scoop of vanilla ice cream topped with a holiday-red maraschino cherry.

Why limit this delicious guilty pleasure to just Christmas Eve? These brownies would be delicious any day of the year!

Ingredients

8 ounces unsweetened chocolate, melted

1-1/2 cups butter (6 ounces), melted

6 eggs

3 cups sugar

1-1/2 cups all-purpose flour

3 tablespoons vanilla

1 cup nuts, chopped (optional)

Beat eggs, adding sugar and vanilla. Add the melted chocolate and butter. Blend until light and airy. Add flour, then nuts (if using.)

Bake in a pre-heated 350-degree oven in two 8-inch pans for 25-30 minutes. Do not overcook. They should be moist in the center. The timing is personal. Keep checking and take it out of the oven when it’s reached the degree of doneness that warms your heart.

Top with ice cream and enjoy.

Happy Holidays, everyone!

Excerpt:

He heard a sound like autumn leaves crackling underfoot, and then felt a soft rush of cinnamon-scented air as a small form appeared then disappeared right in front of his eyes.

He watched, paralyzed with fear and hope, as she took form one more time, looking less like a hologram and more like a flesh and blood woman. The woman he had loved since he was sixteen years old.

“Annie!” Her name tore from his throat and spilled into the space between them. This was his Annie, before sorrow and sickness had taken their toll.

Bubbles of laughter danced in the air around her. “I did it! How about that, Harry? I did it!”

He reached for her hand but it was like grasping cotton candy. His brain was a bowl of overcooked oatmeal. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

The room began to spin. He could feel himself starting to go under and he put his head between his knees.

“Low blood sugar,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t miss that at all.”

“It’s not low blood sugar,” he managed, gulping in some air. “I’m talking to a ghost.”

“If you want to put it that way, I guess you are.”

What other way was there to put it? He had buried his beloved wife six months ago and now here she was in their living room acting like nothing had happened.

He took another huge gulp of air then lifted his head.

“I’m still here,” she said, her tone softening. “You can trust your senses.”

“Why?” he asked, his disbelief beginning to show cracks. “How?”

She spread her arms wide. “Look at this place! You’d never know it was Christmas Eve.”

“It doesn’t feel like Christmas Eve.”

“It would if you put some effort into it. Put up a tree. String some lights.” She aimed a sharp look in his direction. “Place the candles in the window where they belong.”

“No.”

Her brows darted into a scowl. “Did you forget your promise?”

“That promise was made a long time ago. Things change.”

“Family doesn’t.”

“I don’t have a family anymore. When I lost you, I lost everything.”

She reached out and for a second he imagined he felt the touch of her hand. But that was crazy, wasn’t it? She was no more real than Santa Claus or Easter Bunny.

“I’m here because I love you,” she said. “And because you need me tonight.”

Tears threatened to overwhelm him. He wanted to believe.

“I need you every night, Annie. That’s never changed.”

“But tonight is the night you asked for me.”

One moment he was standing there next to the refrigerator with a carton of brown eggs in his hand.

The next moment the eggs were on the floor in a yellow and white mess and his Annie was in his arms.

He had lived long enough to know that second chances didn’t happen often in life.

This time he wasn’t going to let her go.

About the Author:

Barbara Bretton is the award-winning, USA Today bestselling author of fifty books. Her titles have been published in twelve languages in over twenty countries by Harlequin, Berkley, Crown, Pocket, and Free Spirit Press. When Barbara isn’t writing, she can be found knitting, reading, and cooking in New Jersey with her husband and a house filled with pets.

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