Tag Archives: Paranormal Romance

RELEASE BLITZ: Rhyme of Longing by Emily Carrington #LGBTQ #PNR @CarringtonEmily @GoIndiMarketing

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Title: Rhyme of Longing

Series: Jack and Gil #1

Author: Emikly Carrington

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: February 17, 2022

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 169 pages

Genre: Romance, Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, Suspense, Urban Fantasy, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures, Gay, Multicultural & Interracial, Shapeshifters

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Synopsis

Gilbert Sullivan hates his name, but refuses to go by Gil because of a rhyme he fears is a prophecy. When he meets Jack Sowerby, the new head of SearchLight, he’s terrified the rhyme will come true and he’ll lose his place as Crown Prince of the basilisks, but his attraction to Jack won’t let him stay away.

Jack, born human, is, above all things, practical. Still, when he meets Prince Gilbert, his need for the prince blossoms and he’s unable to resist — at least until he’s forcibly changed into a magical creature. He’s terrified of the new world he’s entering. When Gilbert tries to fight the rhyme, will their shattered relationship ever be restored?

Excerpt

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2023 Emily Carrington

Jack wanted so badly to be done with this night that he felt uncomfortable in his skin. That was not the proper way to begin thinking about his sixty-eighth birthday, his five-year anniversary as the head of SearchLight Academy. This was a party for both those things but no one said “no” to Agent Weinberg.

Not necessarily the most powerful magical being in the world, she was still the head of the entire organization. Even though she held the nominal title of “head of Public Relations,” SearchLight’s whole reason for existing was to protect the relationship between magical and nonmagical peoples. Which was, of course, officially, no relationship at all. SearchLight was a secret and must remain so.

The influence she held would make most magical creatures bow in submission. Jack, being merely human, was suitably impressed. And although as yet not cowed, he was too fond of his life to waste it needlessly. Not that Agent Weinberg had killed anyone. Recently.

Jack took a deep breath in through his nose as the limousine pulled up to the curb. He’d been commanded to take this limo and the implicit service of a driver, and although he hadn’t enjoyed it particularly, he was glad that he hadn’t needed to find a place to park in downtown Washington, DC. So, unsure if he was supposed to tip the driver but wanting to show his appreciation, he stepped around to the driver’s side after the car was parked at the curb and offered the person behind the wheel, whom, his telepathic sense, told him wasn’t human, ten dollars.

“Would you be trying to bribe me to take you home, Agent Sowerby?”

Jack saw the humor in the green eyes turned up to his and smiled. “Never in life,” he told the Irish-sounding sprite or Faery or leprechaun. Damn, sometimes he wished for a werewolf’s sense of smell so he’d know the magical creatures around him at once.

“You’re a good man, Agent Sowerby. Don’t let her bully you now.” And with that, he winked and rolled up his window. Jack stepped around the car to the sidewalk and watched the limo drive away.

“Hey there.” The voice was soft, lightly accented, and full of a syrupy, sarcastic undertone that put Jack’s hackles up. He turned more slowly than he could have, wanting to appear older and so less threatening. He gazed at the three people facing him and saw they were all armed.

He was aware of others watching from the doorway of the restaurant but knew they wouldn’t intercede unless it became obvious he couldn’t handle himself. That was one thing about Agent Weinberg he didn’t like much. She believed in the “sink or swim” philosophy.

The woman who’d spoken was smiling in a particularly condescending way. “Got a handout for me?” She twirled the knife in her right hand as she reached out with her left for the ten spot Jack still held.

Jack offered it, keeping a good distance from her, forcing her to step forward to take the bill. He was aware of the other two moving to flank him. He disliked using his telepathic sense against what he considered to be defenseless people, magical or mundane, and yet he wouldn’t risk his own life to preserve theirs. “I suggest you take this and be on your way,” he said softly, putting a slight psychic push into the words. He blanketed the area with his calming presence, lacking the ability to focus on more than two people at once. Both of the men who’d been flanking him stopped. One of them shook his head but the other was definitely under Jack’s control.

“Back off,” Jack said and watched the woman lower her knife a little.

She snatched at the bill and her knife hand flicked upward.

Jack dropped the ten spot and caught her wrist. The knife’s blade skidded across the waterproof material of his trench coat. He forced her to drop the knife as he said, “Go away.”

The man under his control turned and fled. But the other lunged at Jack. Yanking the woman close, Jack used her as a shield. The other man’s blade slid between her ribs. He swore, stumbling back, and lost his grip on his knife. As he turned to flee, Jack lowered the woman to the ground. He shouted, “Someone call nine-one-one.”

Someone joined him out on the sidewalk. It wasn’t Agent Weinberg. It wasn’t a SearchLight agent he knew. There was regal bearing in the other’s posture as he crouched beside Jack. “Let me heal her.”

Jack didn’t protest, although he did skate his telepathic sense outward to determine if this was a magical creature. The fact that he’d said “heal” rather than “help” argued for him not being human. He came into contact with an impenetrable psychic wall and winced as his telepathic sense bounced off. Well, there weren’t all that many humans who could resist even his most casual reach. Ergo, this was a magical creature.

Jack nodded and said, “Go ahead.” He retreated inside his own head and as he pulled out his cell phone, unwilling to trust to others to call for help, he watched the broad-shouldered male beside him spit into his hand and press the palm against the wound even as he pulled the knife free.

Dragon, Jack thought. Dragons could heal with their saliva or a blood exchange. But this wasn’t a dragon Jack knew.

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Meet the Author

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender erotica. 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.

Fantasy creatures not your thing? Emily has also created a contemporary romance world, called Sticks and Stones, where she explores being “different” in a small town.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

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RELEASE BLITZ: A Stop in Time by RC Boldt #RomanticSuspense #PNRLite #SupernaturalPowers @valentine_pr_

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They say time waits for no one.
It waits for me.

A Stop in Time by RC Boldt is now live!

I’ve been an outcast my whole life. If my scars don’t scare people away, my attitude certainly will.
I don’t know what I am or how I got the power to stop time. What I do know is, there are far too many questions I need answers to.
When I cross paths with a local gang member, his presence unravels a part of my past I never knew existed.
At every turn, danger leaps closer, and I realize that stopping the killer will mean losing everything—including the first man I’ve ever loved.
But I should’ve known better. We were never meant to be anything more than a brief stop in time.

Download today on Amazon, Apple Books, Barnes & Noble, Google Play, and Kobo!

Amazon: https://bit.ly/3Ibviz2

Apple Books: https://apple.co/3OkkFMo

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Kobo: https://bit.ly/3b8sCFu

Google Play: https://bit.ly/3OfCuMi

Add to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3E7MVj4

Meet RC Boldt

RC Boldt is a USA Today bestselling author currently living in part of the Costa Rican jungle with the love of her life and her mini-me.

If you’re in the mood for some killer mojitos or can’t recall the lyrics to a particular 80s song, she’s your girl.

Connect with RC Boldt

Website: http://www.rcboldtbooks.com

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14543027.R_C_Boldt

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2Kq1H9C

Facebook: http://bit.ly/RCBoldtFB

Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/BBBReaders/

Instagram: http://bit.ly/RCBoldtIG

TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@authorrcboldt

Bookbub: http://bit.ly/RCBoldtBB

Verve: https://ververomance.com/app/rcboldt

TEASER TUESDAY: Henry (Devoted Guardians MC) by Harley Wylde & Jessica Coulter Smith #shifters #mages #PNR @HarleyW_Writer @RABTBookTours

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(Devoted Guardians MC)

 

Motorcycle Club, Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, Shifters, Mages

Date Published: February 24, 2023

 

 

Raya — Elias kidnapped me nearly a decade ago and used me for his awful
experiments. His goal: to create a superior race. How could that possibly go
wrong? Now I’m no longer fully human and I’ve lived a life in
hell. But I adore my two kids, no matter how they were conceived. I thought
we’d die before we ever found freedom, but it arrived in the most
unexpected way. The big biker shifter is scary as hell, but it’s
either go with him, or remain chained and starving.

Henry — The dark mage killed my mate and unborn child. There’s
nothing I want more than revenge. It never occurred to me he’d have a
woman and kids chained in his cellar. They reek of black magick, enough so,
I hated them on sight. I’d planned to leave them behind. Until I heard
their story. My club won’t be happy when I walk in with three people
covered in the stench of black magick. But something unexpected happens when
I catch Raya’s true scent. She’s my fated mate, and now I have
the difficult task of not only gaining her trust, but the children’s
as well.

 

WARNING: Contains subject matter some readers may find difficult to read.
Recommended for ages 18+ due to adult situations, bad language, and
violence. Guaranteed happily-ever-after, no cheating, and no
cliffhanger.

 

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2023 Harley Wylde & Jessica Coulter Smith

 

Raya

Elias paced the small cabin. I didn’t know why we’d come here.
He’d spoken about this town before. Many times. I knew a shifter
nearly killed him thirty years ago. Fatally wounded, he’d escaped to a
community of mages, where they’d healed him. It had taken years for
him to regain his health and full power. He’d often bragged about
surviving.

Why return now? He’d dragged us all over the country. At first,
I’d thought he was running from something. Now I wondered if
he’d simply been heading toward Wolf Creek. Even though I’d been
with him for years, he never confided in me. Not about anything important.
There was no reason for it, since I was little more than a prisoner. His
slave.

I heard the chains clink in the cellar and fought not to wince. It
wouldn’t be long before I joined them. My babies. No matter how
they’d been conceived, I’d love them with all my heart until the
day I died. They were my reason for living. And the only way Elias
maintained control over me all this time. If it weren’t for my
precious children, I’d have run before now.

“It’s nearly time,” he muttered. “I’ll take
her just like the others. I’m sure she’ll be useful. Stupid
fucking dhampir doesn’t know why I invited him to Wolf Creek.
Everything is falling into place.”

Her? I didn’t know who he was talking about, and I would not ask. And
a dhampir? Did he mean the man I’d heard him speaking to a few times?
It didn’t matter. The less I knew, the better. I’d learned that
the hard way. Although, his words bothered me a great deal. Was he going to
enslave someone else? I reached up to lightly touch the collar around my
throat. I hadn’t been the first, nor the last. However, I’d been
the only woman to survive.

Elias not only used black magick, but he also liked to experiment.
He’d abducted countless women across the globe, all in the name of
creating a better species. It wasn’t something recent, either. From
what I’d learned during my time with him, he’d been working on
this project for decades. Even before he’d fled Wolf Creek thirty
years ago. I didn’t know what made me so special. Why had I survived
when others hadn’t?

I lifted my hand and stared at my fingers. Even now, black tendrils of
smoke shifted around the digits. I’d been completely human until Elias
snatched me off the street. Through pain and suffering, he’d infused
me with some of his black magick. I couldn’t actually use it, but it
had become part of my cellular structure, which meant I passed those traits
to my children, which had been his intent all along.

“It’s time.” He rubbed his hands together, a wide smile
on his face. “Into the basement. You know the rules. Keep your mouth
shut. But first… I’m going to prep you for a special guest
arriving within the next two days.”

I knew exactly what that meant. He removed a syringe from his pocket and
injected me with the serum that would make me mindless with need. While he
preferred for me to get pregnant without it, and enjoyed hearing me scream
in pain, he’d used this on me several times before. I honestly thought
he got off on hearing me beg for someone to fuck me. At least, it
didn’t take effect immediately.

Elias tossed the syringe aside and gave me a shove, and I walked to the
hidden door. He opened it and I went down the steps into what I assumed had
once been a root cellar. My children perked up when they saw me. Elias
followed me into the hole, attaching a chain to my collar. I held open my
arms and my babies ran to me. Their chains barely reached, but we were close
enough I could hold them.

I smoothed the hair of my precious little girl, Marigold, and kissed the
forehead of my son, Logan. Mari had not only inherited some of the black
magick, but she’d also gained her father’s ability to shift. As
for Logan, he only had black magick. His father had been a dark mage like
Elias.

“I’m scared,” Mari said.

I hugged her tight and wished I could ease her fears. Instead, I did my
best to tamp down my own. I didn’t think we’d ever escape Elias.
One day, he’d sell my children. When I became useless, he’d kill
me. As it was, I’d lost the last two babies. I knew he was searching
for another male to impregnate me. He’d desperately wanted a baby that
was half vampire and half dark mage. It seemed my body rejected the
vampire’s offspring, as both babies came from the same male.

“When I’m older, I’m going to get us out of here,”
Logan said. “With my magick, I’ll take down Elias and free us
from this prison.”

I placed my fingers over his lips. “Hush, sweetheart. If he hears you
say such a thing…”

He nodded, understanding what I meant. I hated that my children had to grow
up so quickly. They’d never been able to play, make friends, or enjoy
their lives. If I thought it would be possible to run away with them,
I’d have done it long ago. But I knew Elias would hunt us down and
punish us.

The door upstairs slammed, and the tension in my body eased. At least he
would be gone for a while. I felt bad for whatever woman he’d lured to
this town. Would her fate be the same as mine? I hoped not. I didn’t
wish this existence on anyone.

Mari began humming The Itsy Bitsy Spider, and I rocked her. Logan slumped
against my side and stared at the opposite wall. Elias hadn’t even
left us with anything to occupy ourselves while he was gone. There’d
been times he’d left a rubber ball or a pack of crayons and a coloring
book. I knew it wasn’t out of the kindness of his black heart.
He’d claimed it made the children less whiny and more tolerable.

“One day, if we’re ever free of Elias, you’ll get to
enroll in school so you can learn new things. You’ll make friends.
Play outside. Go to the movie theater, the park, learn to swim. We’ll
have so much fun.” I smiled wistfully, thinking of all they’d
missed out on, and the things I’d taken for granted before Elias
kidnapped me.

“Do you really think we’ll ever get away from him?” Logan
asked.

My heart ached at the despair in his voice. My little angel already knew
the answer. No matter how much I’d tried to instill hope in my
children, Logan somehow knew we’d be the property of Elias until he
either sold us or killed us.

I couldn’t answer him, refusing to lie.

Mari dozed a bit, and even Logan closed his eyes for a little while. Every
second was even more agonizing, because time stretched endlessly in the
cellar. At least the lightbulb hadn’t gone out. The dim light helped
little, but it dispelled some of the darkness. Being locked down here in
absolute blackness would have been much worse.

Mari whimpered in her sleep, waking Logan. I smoothed her hair and murmured
to her, hoping to ease whatever nightmare she might be having. Logan blinked
and rubbed his eyes before sitting up a little straighter. I knew he’d
fight to stay awake now. My little boy had grown up entirely too fast.

Mari woke twice and dozed off again each time. While she napped, I told
Logan a story. Mari liked the romantic fairy tales about princes. Logan,
however, wanted action and adventure. His favorites were tales of pirates or
explorers. So I talked about One-Eyed Willie, Captain Jack, and the others
I’d watched in movies when I’d still had my freedom. He ate up
every word, and it helped pass the time.

My stomach rumbled, and so did the children’s. Mari woke again,
yawning and leaning away from me a little. I knew she wouldn’t fall
asleep again anytime soon. Every time the monster who owned us made her go
hungry, she’d be awake for hours. Unlike Logan, who said sleep made
him feel less hungry.

Elias hadn’t left us with any food or water. A bucket in the corner
served as a toilet, but none of us had been desperate enough to use it
today. We’d each had a chance earlier to use the bathroom upstairs to
relieve ourselves and clean up a little.

“He’s been gone a while,” Logan said. “He
didn’t forget us, did he? I’m not sure starving to death is much
better than suffering whatever he’s planned for us.”

With no windows, I couldn’t tell what time of day it was by now.
However, my butt had gone numb from sitting on the hard ground. I had to
have been down here for more than an hour. I listened intently, wondering if
Elias had managed to quietly return. Minutes ticked by, and when I was going
to give up, I heard booted steps. They seemed to scout the entire
house.

Would they find the hidden door to the cellar? Did we want them to? I
caught Logan’s gaze, and he gave me a slight nod. Whatever he sensed
or smelled seemed to make him feel as if the person upstairs wouldn’t
harm us.

“Help! Please, we’re down here!” I yelled as loud as I
could. By the fifth time I’d called out, the door at the top of the
stairs opened and a large silhouette moved toward us. My breath caught when
the man approached. I couldn’t tell his age and depending on what he
was, he could have been hundreds of years old and still appeared
young.

“What the fuck?” he muttered. His gaze narrowed on me before
shifting to my children. I held them tighter, wondering if I’d made a
mistake by calling for help. “Who are you?”

Author Contact Links

Harley Wylde on Facebook , TikTok, Instagram: @harleywylde

Jessica Coulter Smith on Instagram: @jessica_coulter_smith

 

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Instagram/Facebook/Twitter: @changelingpress

 

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RELEASE BLITZ: Brewed Hope by Emma Penny #eroticromance #PNR #reverseharem @firstforromance @totally_bound

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Brewed Hope by Emma Penny

Book 2 in the Orders to Haunt series

General Release Date: 14th February 2022

Word Count: 43,207
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 167

Genres:

CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS
PARANORMAL
REVERSE HAREM

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Book Description


Four brewery owners. Two ghosts. Unofficial orders to haunt.

Brewery owners Marco, Bryson, Shawn and Ayden have been friends for years, but their business is floundering. In desperation, Marco makes a formal request to Madeline for orders to haunt his friends and repair the business. All he wants is to bring his family together again.

Audrey is Madeline’s wild card. Although she’d previously fired her from The Order, Madeline brings Audrey back in an unofficial capacity. In desperate need of income, Audrey takes a job at the brewery to go undercover and help Marco haunt his friends.

Audrey has a new brew to craft—hope.

Excerpt

Audrey

I cannot roll my eyes harder. My sister is ridiculously in love, and while it’s adorable, it’s equally annoying. She and Mom are chattering away, and it’s all I can do to ignore them by sitting on the couch and flipping through random television shows.

They squeal about something, and I shift to face Dad and stop. Cool blue eyes stare at me—that perfectly rounded face, full, red-painted lips and dark loose curls hanging below her shoulder. I sit up straight immediately, every hair on my arms and neck standing straight up.

“Madeline,” I say under my breath like it’s a curse.

The room stills, Stephanie and Mom quieting as they hear my voice. I can’t tear my gaze from Madeline. I never thought I would see her again, not after she tossed me on my ass when I failed my training. It had been awful.

Madeline nods at Steph and Mom but turns her focus directly on me. “Got a minute?”

My stomach is in absolute knots. My voice catches in my throat, and I have no idea what to say. I don’t want her here, not after the embarrassment I left in.

“It’s nothing bad,” Madeline adds, as if she can sense my apprehension, which I suppose she can. She knows everything. She knows what happened six months ago, she knows how I stormed out of The Order with fire on my heels and she knows that I am not anyone she wants working orders. She told me as much.

“Audrey?” Mom asks, as if she she’s going to protect me from this big bad witch.

I try to shift a glance to her, but I can’t tear my gaze from the woman standing in front of me. I curl my fingers into a fist, nails biting into the skin of my palm until I have some wits about me. “I’m fine, Mom.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” Pushing myself upward to stand, I eye Madeline carefully. “Only place to meet in private is my bedroom.”

I didn’t want to push it and suggest we talk at The Order. That’d be laughable—me walking back into that place as if nothing had happened. Snorting at the thought, I drag my feet forward until I’m inches from her. As is our custom, I grab her wrist and ghost from the living room to my bedroom. Standing inches from her is even more unnerving than when she’s staring directly at me. Never thought that would happen. None of this. Ever.

I shut the door, hoping it’ll give us at least some privacy. Turning around, I wring my hands together before stopping. I can’t show her how weak I am. “What do you want?”

Madeline sighs and shifts to sit on the edge of my mattress. She looks so out of place in my messy room with the unicorn comforter and unicorn stuffies I refuse to get rid of.

“I’m not here to accost you.”

“Could have fooled me.” Why I’m giving her attitude, I have no clue—but it’s probably not going to help my case any. “Again, I ask, what do you want?”

“I’ve some orders I thought you might be interested in.”

“You fired me,” I respond through clenched teeth. “What the hell kind of orders could you have for me?”

Madeline’s lips thin before she pulls them in a half-smile that is no doubt forced. “Would you relax? I’m only here to try to repair this.”

“There’s nothing to repair. It was severed.”

“There are factors at play that you don’t know about. You didn’t fail in your orders as badly as we told you. You were only off by two marks, and if we had the funds to hire another ghost, you would have been allowed to reapply. However, that’s not the case. I’m here with orders to haunt, if you would like them, but they will not be paid by me.”

“So this is me being volun-told to work a job I was fired from?” I raise a skeptical eyebrow at her.

Madeline shakes her head. “No. I would have very much liked to hire you, Audrey. You would be an excellent asset to The Order.”

“You. Fired. Me.” I spell it out slowly because it doesn’t seem like she’s understanding.

“Yes, but if I’d had another choice at the time, I would have made it.”

I narrow my eyes, anger still boiling in my belly. “Why should I work for you—on the side, without pay?”

“Because you are excellent at what you do, which is causing people to think differently about the world around them in unique and creative ways. I always admired your creativity.”

I scoff, walking to plop onto the mattress next to her. “Never seemed like it.”

She waves her hand. “Persona. Please, I mean what I’m saying.”

“What’s the job?”

“Do you know Bams Brewery?”

I nod. I’ve been there a time or two. Decent beer. Nice atmosphere. Asshole manager.

“They need a haunting.”

“All of them?”

“The four owners, specifically. Marco is one of us, so he will assist, but he also needs his own lesson in there, which is where I need your creativity. He has agreed to hire you on, so you will be paid.”

“Hire me for what?”

“Something at the brewery. Something to your skills.”

“I don’t know how to make beer.” I wrinkle my nose.

“You’ll find something. Would you consider it?”

“What’s in it for me, Madeline? Because, honestly, I don’t relish the idea of doing you a favor, which it seems like this is, without knowing why I’m doing it or what I’m doing it for.”

Madeline falls silent. I’m not sure what she’s thinking, but she is contemplating deeply. “The Order is changing, drastically, and it won’t be what your parents remember much longer. I need allies for what it will be when these changes are made.”

“So let me get this right. You fired me, then you want me as your ally?”

She gives a weak smile. “Yes. If you’ll accept.”

“I’ll accept these orders, because, frankly, I need the paycheck, but beyond that? I have no idea. You’re going to have some explaining to do.”

“All in good time. Since you’ve accepted, you’ll need to contact Marco and create a plan. The rest is left up to you two.” Without another word, she’s gone.

Sitting alone in my room, I stare at the wall and shake my head. What the fuck was that? Never in my life have I heard of such a thing, but she knew exactly who to come to. I’ll do anything to get back in the good graces of The Order. I ghost downstairs after changing into a clean pair of jeans and a tight shirt. Mom and Steph look at me curiously. I shrug.

“It was harmless.” I hope I’m right on that.

“What did she want?” Mom asks.

I shake my head. “She didn’t really want anything—at least, she didn’t insist on anything.”

“Madeline doesn’t just show up for nothing,” Steph adds, her eyes widening.

Shrugging, I chug the last of my beer I’d left opened and grin at them. “I’m off.”

In two seconds, I’m standing outside a small apartment I’ve never seen before. At least Madeline had given me that information. Number four-zero-six. Canting my head to the side, I listen to see if he’s home. Unlike Madeline, I’m not an asshole, so I shift into my corporeal form, make a fist and knock on the steel door. Fixing a grin on my lips, I wait to see what greets me.

Marco is insanely handsome. Madeline put me right in his lap, too, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to be putty. His black hair is slicked to the side, combed perfectly and gelled. I just want to stick my hands in it and mess it up. Rubbing my fingers together, I barely resist the idea. His lips are full, which is incredibly sexy on a man. I nearly moan as the thought of pulling his lower lip between my teeth shudders through me.

“Who are you?” he says, his voice wary but also deep.

Fuck, he’s sex on a stick. Madeline is an evil, evil woman for this one. I’m going to get revenge for this. “I’m Audrey.”

“All right.” He raises an eyebrow at me and shifts to block the door. “And who are you exactly?”

“Oh.” I flush, realizing Madeline had left out some very important information for both of us. “Madeline sent me…about the orders to haunt.”

Marco shushes me, grabs me by the wrist and drags me into his apartment. “You can’t be saying that out loud. My neighbors will hear you!”

I squint at him. “Then you need new neighbors.”

“Why didn’t you just ghost in here?”

Putting my hands on my hips, I face him down. “Because I’m not an asshole, and I respect privacy.”

Marco frowns. “What exactly did Madeline tell you?”

“That you’ll pay me.”

Marco’s lips thin. “We will.”

“What will I be doing?”

“Bartending and waitressing.”

“It’s usually one or the other, not both.” He looks cute when he’s frazzled, and I can’t help myself from pushing at him more.

“It’s both.”

“So what’s the pay?”

“Minimum plus tips.”

I whistle my surprise. “No wonder you can’t keep anyone employed.”

Marco pouts. “Who told you that?”

“I’ve been to your brewery before, Marco, and I’ve seen the employees come and go. Now I know why.”

Sighing, he collapses onto his couch. “The main reason is Bryson. He’s going to be the one you have to work through to get hired.”

“Oh, so this isn’t even guaranteed pay? I’m out.” I start to ghost, but he’s quick. He’s on his feet, grabbing my wrist and dragging me back. “What?”

“Don’t go. I…I need this to happen.”

Clenching my jaw, I give him a hard stare. “Why?”

Marco softens, his entire demeanor changing. He looks so broken. My heart shatters for him, as I see his struggle, the pain this is causing. Sliding up against him, I wrap him in a quick hug.

“Fine, I’ll help. Tell me how to get this job.”

We talk for hours, and he goes from confident to nervous every five minutes it seems, though, he does have good insight into those he works with. It’s after midnight when weariness creeps over me, the events of the day and being thrust into orders I’m not sure are actual orders finally weighing me down. But I don’t know how to leave Marco. First and foremost, he seems lonely, which for a guy who started a business with his three college friends shouldn’t be the case.

Reaching out, I brush my fingers against his arm to get his attention. “It’s getting late.”

Marco nods. “Right. I shouldn’t have kept you.”

“No, it was good.” I give him a gentle smile. I’m not lying. I enjoyed spending the time with him, getting to know him and his friends better. This is going to be one of the best orders I have ever worked, and even if this isn’t a real case, I’m going to see it through—not only to get back into Madeline’s good graces but also for the cold hard cash I really need.

He stares into my eyes, and for a second, I think he might kiss me. I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea, but I’ve only known him for a few hours at this point. He’s adorable and handsome, but this is business. If he wants more—or if I do, for that matter—we need to properly talk about it. Leaning in, I press my lips to his cheek to try to ward off any awkwardness.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the open interviews.”

He grins. “Yes, later today actually.”

I snort lightly. “Today, then.”

Kissing his cheek again, I ghost into my bedroom. I’m thankful to find it blissfully empty and quiet, though I’m sure Mom and Steph are going to hound me with a million more questions as soon as they can find me. I’m not sure what to tell them. Madeline didn’t swear me to secrecy, but if she’s right and The Order is in for dramatic changes, I don’t know if anyone is going to be happy about it.

Stripping naked, I slide under my unicorn blanket and close my eyes, turning the side lamp by my bed off. I need to sleep so I can have my wits about me tomorrow. Bryson is apparently a beast in the form of a handsome man, and Marco warned me I was going to need to be prepared to pass the interview test. Luckily, Marco was going to help me cheat and gave me some clues as to what might happen. Smiling to myself, I turn on my side and close my eyes. I fall into sleep thinking of the handsome man I’d just met.

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About the Author

Emma Penny

Emma Penny is a millennial living in the US. She often moves and loves experiencing new adventures and letting her mind wander to new possibilities. She currently lives north of Denver, CO and has fallen in love with writing steamier romance. Emma started writing when she was a teenager and has never looked back from the creative side of her life. She particularly loves to explore worlds beyond the believable, worlds that stretch her imagination but still root her in the very real personalities of her characters and their relationships.

Follow Emma on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter and find her at her website.

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TEASER TUESDAY: Beastly Tales edited by J.E. Feldman #paranormalromance #anthology @RABTBookTours

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Paranormal Romance

Date to be Published: February 21, 2023

Publisher: Dragon Soul Press

 

 

Monsters deserve love too…

From werewolves, vampires, and even Bigfoot, these beasts manage to find
love. Whether they are able to sink their claws into that love and keep it
is another story. When it comes down to it, don’t judge a book by its
cover. This anthology brings a mixture of what ifs and happily ever
afters.

Featuring stories from T.C. Mill, A.K. Moss, Toni Mobley, Barend
Nieuwstraten III, Ashley L. Hunt, Charles Kyffhausen, Lil Deville, Kelly
Piner, Jess Monica, and Karen Bayly.

Graphic sexual content is included within this anthology.

 

The Beasts of Hank’s Wood by Lil DeVille

Joe Schola III is the eighteen-year-old son of Joseph Schola Junior, a
fire-and-brimstone preaching Fundamentalist televangelist. While young Joe
is far less homophobic than his father, he is struggling to come to terms
with his own sexual orientation. Will Joe dare accept the invitation to
become part of a clan of shapeshifters, and will he accept the love being
offered to him by the handsome fox shifter Lovell Azarola?

 

Excerpt from The Beasts of Hank’s Wood

 

Reverend Jed didn’t miss what was happening between me and her gorgeous friend. Taking my hands in hers, she smiled.

“There’s nothing wrong with letting nature take its course,” she advised. “Then again, you don’t want to dive into deep waters too soon. I’ve known Lovell all his life. He’s not the casual and fleeting kind.”

“I’m not either,” I reassured her. “The truth is, I’ve never been in a relationship. Because I don’t know a thing about letting someone know I’m interested in them or establishing if they’re interested in me, I don’t want to make a mistake. Straight people have it hard too, but I think it’s even harder when you’re not straight. If a
straight guy hits on a girl who’s not interested, he probably won’t get his backside handed to him, unless she has a jealous boyfriend he doesn’t know about.”

“The thing is, I wouldn’t have said anything if I hadn’t seen what was happening between you and Lovell. He definitely noticed you.”

“Um…Forest didn’t, you know, notice Vic, did he? ‘Cause Vic’s straight. Vic won’t kick his butt, but I wouldn’t want Forest to waste his time on a straight guy.”

Reverend Jed burst out laughing.

“Forest is straight too. He simply sensed a kindred spirit in Vic.”

“I guess my gay-dar is broken,” I said. “’Cause he looked me up and down and I kind of thought he might be checking me out.”

“He was checking to see if you were safe for his brother. The boys are very protective of each other.”

“Well, I’m safe,” I reassured Reverend Jed. “But maybe a fine guy like Lovell isn’t going to be too keen on an inexperienced dude like me.”

“He’s keen,” Reverend Jed said. “It’s up to you if you want to encourage his interest.”

 

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RELEASE BLITZ: Stolen (Cupid’s Academy) by Jayce Carter #eroticromance #reverseharem #PNR @totally_bound @firstforromance

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Stolen by Jayce Carter

General Release Date: 7th February 2023

Word Count: 44,084
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 171

GENRES:

CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
PARANORMAL
REVERSE HAREM

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Book Description

 

Larkwood is dangerous, but love scares me even more.

As a selkie, nothing matters more to me than my freedom. Larkwood destroyed that when they took my skin, and with it, my ability to transform. I’ve spent the six years since incomplete, but now that the rumors say Larkwood has changed, it’s my chance to finally get back what they stole.

I need to keep my head down and focus, but from the moment I step foot back in Larkwood, I can’t catch a break. The other shades hate me, the people in charge pity me and the two men I’ve tried to forget won’t leave me alone. Asher, a quiet and intense amarok, and Talon, a mischievous and playful kitsune, seem to think I’ve come back looking for romance.

As we all venture into the most dangerous place in Larkwood to find what was stolen from me, I realize that there is no bigger threat to me and my freedom than the two men I’m falling for. If I don’t keep my wits about me, I might just find myself trapped once again.

Excerpt

Six years since I’d escaped Larkwood’s clutches, since I’d somehow survived a place determined to destroy me, and it hadn’t changed a bit. It had the same imposing walls, the same layout, the same empty desert that stretched out for miles around it. Sure, the news swore the place was different, but I was way too smart to believe that.

Still, I never thought I’d come back here.

At least not willingly.

Even standing in the intake room, the same one they’d used in the past, didn’t help me differentiate between the past and the present.

“Mara?” The familiar voice made me turn and look up into a face that shouldn’t have surprised me. Kit Porter had taught when I’d lived at Larkwood years ago, and he’d been the only shade given such a position. However, since he worked in level 1 and I was officially a level 4, I didn’t think I was important enough for him to take notice of me.

“I’m surprised you remember me,” I said.

“I have an exceedingly good memory.” He bypassed the unasked question of why he knew me, but that was hardly unusual for him. Kit had always kept things close to his chest from what I’d seen. “Besides, seeing you jogs old memories. Not many shades have returned here.”

“I can’t be the only resident with nowhere else to go.”

“Student.” At my look, he clarified, “Larkwood has changed. We have no residents or guards. Those who choose to come here do so of their own free will. They are students.”

I snorted at the explanation, especially from Kit. We’d all known that he was little more than a pet for the Warden, a shade willing to do her dirty work for his own benefit. The fact he remained increased my suspicion about this place.

He lifted one of his dark eyebrows, but before he could say anything else, a woman walked up who I’d seen on the news enough to identify.

Hera Weston. The previous darling of the influential Weston family and now the Director at Larkwood Academy. The scar at her throat had been difficult to see on the TV, but in person it stood out. Her hands moved in a quick, practiced flurry, but I had no idea what it meant.

Kit spoke to her when she paused. “This is Mara Holland. She was here…” He paused, the flat blackness of his eyes making his expression difficult to read. “Six years ago, I believe.”

Hera moved her gaze to me, then signed again.

Kit translated. “This is Hera Weston, the Director. She’s welcoming you here.”

I nodded at the woman, unsure how else to respond. She looked to be around my age, yet where I wore a large hoodie and leggings, like the normal nineteen-year-old trying and failing to figure my shit out. Hera wore a fitted suit that proved we were not at all the same.

She reminded me of the sort of person I’d look for when I realized I needed an adult who was doing a better job adulting than I was.

She was also a person with absolute power. The Warden had looked similarly put together when I’d arrived at Larkwood, so I knew better than to trust anyone in power.

Hera signed again, then waited for Kit to translate. “She wants to know why you’ve come back.”

“I thought all shades were welcome here?” I wrapped my fingers around the strap of my backpack, which had what little I owned crammed inside.

“They are,” Kit offered, his words slow as if unsure how to keep going. “We’ve set Larkwood up as a refuge for those who need it. I just haven’t seen many return here. Usually, when people get out of the place it used to be, they have no desire to return.”

“Yeah, well, it turns out that life outside of here isn’t that great, either. So do I have a room or not?”

Kit pressed his lips together but nodded. He gestured toward a table farther in. “Deacon is handing out room assignments and will pass you off for orientation.”

That made me turn my head to catch sight of the man Kit had mentioned who, again, looked just the same as I recalled. I swallowed down my unease at the fact they’d kept a guard on staff, mostly because I didn’t want to have any more discussion than I had to.

I needed to stay quiet, to do what I’d come to do, then get the hell out of Larkwood again. The last thing I needed was to draw attention to myself.

So I nodded and followed Kit’s directions. Deacon lifted his purple eyes to me but showed no sign of recognition.

Then again, six years was a long time, and it wasn’t as if I’d been a troublemaker. He’d had no reason to notice me.

I knew exactly what I looked like—any teenager not worth a second glance. I kept my dark curly hair cut short and always wore dark leggings and baggy hoodie sweaters. My eyes were dark, and the only truly notable or memorable thing about my appearance was the freckles on my face that stood out on my dark skin.

“Name?”

“Mara Holland.” I kept my voice strong but non-confrontational. Don’t be memorable but don’t be weak, either. The rules of Larkwood were shockingly similar to those in prison.

He furrowed his brows, tapping his finger across the tablet in his hand. “You were here before, right?”

“You don’t recognize our little selkie?” That voice was one I sure as hell wouldn’t forget. Wade walked up, the void older but with the same old smirk. “We only had one in the years I’ve been here.”

“Aren’t selkies level 4s? Why would you know her?”

“She wasn’t housed in level 4.”

Deacon turned his gaze to me, his eyes full of suspicion. His lifted eyebrow asked the question so he didn’t have to.

“They wanted to do experiments and since the North Tower is connected to level 1, they thought it was easier to keep me here—not so far to transport me.” Even as I spoke, I kept my voice flat. If I didn’t, if I went back to the memories of the North Tower, of the hell they’d put me through, I’d let Deacon and Wade see far too much.

“I see,” Deacon said, his tone giving nothing away about how he felt. “Your room’s in level 1. We don’t have that many people, and because they made level 1 to house shades long-term, it’s got the best set-up. We’ve been putting everyone in level 1 while we work on getting the other levels renovated.”

“By which he means that level 1 has kitchens, full bathrooms, and it’s directly connected to the other areas,” Wade explained, as if Deacon needed a translator just as Hera had.

Instead of asking more, I held my wrist out.

Deacon went still, a frown touching his features.

Wade shook his head, then gently set his gloved hand on my wrist. “We don’t do wrist bands anymore.”

Oh… I guess that made sense. I ignored the warmth on my cheeks as Deacon pulled a card from a stack on the table he leaned against, then swiped it through a reader on his tablet. A few beeps rang out before he held the card out. “This will get you into your room— one-three-four-five.”

“Will it get me into the pantry and rec areas?”

Deacon shook his head. “We don’t keep the same security measures they had back then. The only off-limit areas are dangerous or security-centric. Otherwise, none of the areas require special access.”

“The North Tower?” I asked, unable to help the slight quiver in my voice at mentioning that place. It felt like talking about it might call its attention to me.

Deacon didn’t answer, with Wade taking that one. “The North Tower’s locked. There’s way too much stuff in there that we don’t understand yet. Plus, we don’t want people breaking in just to steal things. A lot of what’s there could seriously hurt shades if it got into the wrong hands. Don’t worry, though no one’s working there.”

Which means this is going to be more complicated than I wanted…

“Come on, I’ll show you where to go,” Wade said, gesturing toward the door at the back of the intake room.

“I’m good,” I assured him, tucking the keycard into the side pocket of my leggings. Even after six years away, this place haunted my dreams. I couldn’t possibly forget a single hallway of this prison, of the place that had tried to destroy me…the place that had taken what mattered most from me.

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About the Author

Jayce Carter

Jayce Carter lives in Southern California with her husband and two spawns. She originally wanted to take over the world but realized that would require wearing pants. This led her to choosing writing, a completely pants-free occupation. She has a fear of heights yet rock climbs for fun and enjoys making up excuses for not going out and socializing. You can learn more about her at her website.

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SPOTLIGHT: Chunkybuttfunky (Paranormal Mates Society 2) by Dakota Cassidy #RomCom #PNR @changelingpress @DakotaCassidy

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Cadence Cranston needs a date. Not just any date, but a date that won’t mind her penchant for blood on the rocks and bat wings. Oh, and fangs… She has awesome fangs.

So Cadence, nighttime DJ and full figured vampire, decides to give online dating a try, but ParanormalMatesSociety.com isn’t just any old online date site. It’s strictly for the shifting community, which is copasetic with Cadence. So she puts up a profile and a picture of herself and jumps into the dating pool, feet first, to find she’s more bored than she was to begin with. Sticking to her own kind of shifter turns out to be kinda droll. Who said she can’t date a demon or a demi-god, for that matter? Or even a werewolf?

Browsing what the site has to offer in the way of “other” shifters, Cadence comes across a profile of a werewolf who’s to die for. Really, he’s that cute. The cute werewolf is Collin Grayson and his profile specifically states that he only wants to date other werewolves. But he’s soooo delish…

How hard can it be to pretend you’re a werewolf?

Available at Changeling Press

Or at your favorite online bookseller…

Praise for Chunkybuttfunky…

“5 Angels! NO ONE does erotic comedy like Dakota Cassidy… The title is fantastic, the tone of the book never varies, and the characters are perfect for each other, with a few exceptions that you’ll have to read to believe.”— Serena, Fallen Angel Reviews


“4.5 Ribbons! Together fire is an apt description of this couple’s interactions and love scenes. There is comedy throughout the entire plot and the characters never fail to bring out the laughs.”— from Angel at Romance Junkies

Excerpt

Copyright ©2023 Dakota Cassidy

“Hey, all you Milwauuuukeeee night dwellers! This is CC, for the Nocturnal Journals, on B 105.5 FMMMMMMMM. Your lifeline to the nighttime. Call in and give me your views. Yep, I wanna hear them. The good and the oh-so-bad. Tonight’s topic — online dating. It’s the hottest thing in hooking up these days. Do ya think you can really find the match of your dreams in just one click? I wanna hear your story! Gimme a holler at CC-in-the-eve — that’s 224-684-3383. Talk to me, Milwaukee. I’ll be waaaaitiiiiing…”

Cadence Cranston clicked off her headset and swung her chair over to her computer while she waited for the commercial break to be over. Her topic tonight was inspired by her real life experiences, and she was curious to know how many people actually might be in the same sinking boat she was in.

The online dating Titanic-like sinking boat, that is.

Yes, Cadence Cranston, night time DJ and vampire, had joined an online date site to troll for guys. Not just any guys though. These men were of the paranormal persuasion and plentiful on Paranormal Mates Society.

Weeeeeeeee doggie — gazoodles of men to be had in every blessed paranormal category.

It was a new cyber haven, where hooking up with the mate of your dreams was finally a reality. Who knew a place like that even existed for her kind? It sure as hell made finding a date much easier on a vamp. There was no explanation involved if you wanted to hit the O negative for a little pick me up. It was refreshing and required far less hassle than dating a human.

However, this dating thing was becoming her favorite pastime as of late. The e-mail alone was enough to keep her amused for centuries on end. Cadence found herself glued to her computer every chance she got.

It couldn’t be healthy.

Nay, it was downright pathetic…

Ooooh, but look! More e-mail.

Yee and haw.

Cheerist, she was sickly addicted to this bullshit e-mail, sadly compelled to check it every free moment she could dredge up.

As if the man of her dreams was going to pop up, and she might miss it because she was fixing her lipstick in the powder room or something.

Clicking on the date site, Cadence perused her inbox and sighed with defeat. It was too bad that most of the men who contacted her were stupidheads.

So many whacktards, so little time.

To: Chunkybuttfunky@paranormalmatessociety.com
From: Oncebitten2shy@paranormalmatessociety.com
Subject: Dayum!

Dear CBF,

Wow, could I ever sink my teeth into you! Looks like you got plenty to sink into . How about we hook up and nail a herd of cows together?

Dave


Oh-my-God. A herd of cows? What kind of vampire sucked the blood out of cows anymore?

Cadence Cranston shuddered and then, for good measure, she shuddered again.

Fricken’ vampire Neanderthal, knuckle dragging, Angus beef, blood sucking dork… God, what had she been thinking when she’d joined this damn online dating site?

She’d been thinking of sharing her Happy Meal instead of eating it alone…

“Oh, the Internet is the hottest thing in dating,” her friend Pam had said. “You’ll love it. Tons of men to be had,” she’d boasted. “They even have a category for big and beautiful immortals and the like. You’ll get loads of e-mail and have the social life of Paris Hilton. Trust me.”

Cadence stared at the computer screen and flipped it the bird. She’d rather be dead than read one more flippin’ loser’s e-mail.

Oh, wait, she was dead.

Pam had been right. She did get lots of e-mail. It just so happened that for the most part, the e-mail was from psychotic nuts allowed Internet time for good behavior at the wacky farm. However, she was pleased to note that said psychos on the site rather liked her curves. She wasn’t ashamed to call herself big and beautiful, and she was damn proud of the junk in her trunk.

Sighing, she grabbed her mouse and clicked on the reply button. Someone had to tell Dave he was a freak…

To: Oncebitten2shy@paranormalmatessociety.com
From: Chunkybuttfunky@paranormalmatessociety.com
Subject: Re: Dayum

Dear fucktard,

Cadence shook her head. That was mean. Probably true, but still, really not very good cyber dating etiquette. Backspacing and deleting the “fucktard,” she began again.

Dear Dave,

Thanks for your response to my profile.

However, beef is not what’s for dinner.

Good luck in your search,

CBF


There, Cadence thought, buh-bye now.

Oy.

How could it be that there wasn’t a single vampire on this site that appealed to her? ParanormalMatesSociety.com was specifically designed for paranormals in today’s society. It wasn’t easy to be immortal, and finding someone to share that immortality with was harder still.

Yeah, everyone said her lifemate would pop up when she least expected him. However, Cadence was of the mind that until then, she needed to frost her Wheaties and for that, she had to find the Wheaties and some milk.

About the Author

USA Today Bestselling author Dakota Cassidy lives for a good laugh in life and in her writing. In fact, she almost loves a good giggle as much as she loves hair products and that’s saying something.

Her goals in life are simple, (like really simple): banish the color yellow forever, create world peace via hot rollers and Aqua Net; and finally, nab every tiara in the land by competing in the Miss USA, Miss Universe, and Miss World pageants, then sweeping them in a stunning trifecta of much duct tape and Vaseline usage, all in just under one week. Oh, and write really fun books!

Dakota lives in Oregon with her dogs and has a husband who puts the heroes in her books to shame.

Dakota’s Website

SPOTLIGHT: Illuminated (Vampire Tales 1) by Alexa Piper #vampires #LGBTQ @prowlingpiper @changelingpress

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Ethan is a photographer who loves the interplay of light and shadow in his work and what it reveals. While working on his latest project, he finds himself at an abandoned church after nightfall. Lured by the prospect of capturing something unique with his camera, he ventures inside.

What Ethan discovers in that forgotten place is not what he expected. Instead of sights unseen for decades, Ethan finds a man — bleeding, hurt, and in need of help.

What Ethan doesn’t know is that he isn’t freeing an ordinary man, but an ancient vampire.

Through a haze of blood and violence, Ethan will have to come to terms with a situation nothing could have ever prepared him for. Auris drinks blood and deals death with ease, but Ethan soon discovers that the vampire is not just a monster. Auris is more, so much more. As if it were illuminated with a camera flash, Ethan can almost see himself and Auris have a shared future. Yet, those who tried destroying Auris once will stop at nothing to do so again.

Content Warnings: Illuminated (Vampire Tales 1) contains scenes of violence, murder, kidnapping, and torture that may be triggers for some readers.

Now Available at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2023 Alexa Piper

I felt the cold fingers of the changing season reach across the café’s outdoor terrace and right up my spine. The warm fall day drew to a close with the trees all along the coast colored in vermilion and gold, and darkness rolled in with the tide, the sky above pretty as pulped roses.

“Need another?” said the very attentive server. Her eyes were ocean blue, and her golden earrings caught the fading light slanting in from across the water. She wore a surgical mask like most of the staff in the region I’d come across, even though they were no longer mandatory. “You seem to inhale them. You know that might cost you sleep, right?”

I smiled back at her and finished the last of my latte. “I always inhale great coffee, but this will have to be my last. I like to work at night.”

True enough, even if I had captured mostly sunlight and shadows, leaves and people today, not my normal fare. The touristy charm of the place had simply lured me in. That all the cafés I found here had great service, view, and coffee didn’t help me regain my work attitude.

She looked me up and down, no doubt taking in my slightly over shoulder-length caramel brown hair, the piercing blue eyes most people liked to comment on, and — last but not least — my pseudo-geeky Schrödinger’s Cat tee.

“My mother would tell you that a good boy like yourself should be in bed at night. What do you do?”

I laughed and tugged a strand of my hair back behind my ear. “I’m a photographer, and I like editing when it’s dark out. Just a night owl thing. Could I get the check, please?” This was beginning to feel more and more like a vacation, even though I was working. I wanted abandoned places for my next exhibition, and if you didn’t mind a bit of driving, this area had plenty.

“Wow, an artist. You’re the first in Brightam this season, or at least my first. Be right back.” She winked at me.

I nodded, and she took my empty glass and walked away.

My bag sat on the chair to my right. I dug for my notebook and phone. My slightly battered but trusty notebook contained my longhand list of places I wanted to go see. I unwound the elastic that held the notebook closed and checked the list I’d bookmarked with an old receipt for a bagel and coffee against a map on my phone to see if I could still get something done today. If I didn’t, this really would be a vacation day, and I was firmly not on vacation. Besides, I was sure some lowlight photos might add a creepy aspect to my work people often told me was there to begin with, even if I never saw it.

The seventh item on my list was a church that had been abandoned for decades, complete with a garden of headstones surrounding it, and it was only a thirty-minute detour from my way back to Cromere where I had booked my hotel for the month. I had my external flash in the car. Going to the church and getting photos of headstones and a dilapidated building in the background in the almost dark would be perfect.

“Here you go,” the server said and dropped the check on the table. “I put my number on there in case you’re staying in town and want to do something later. Together.”

I had seen that coming about two lattes ago, and I did consider it. Yet, the church actually sounded interesting, more interesting than vacation sex when I wasn’t even on vacation.

“I’m afraid I have to get some work done, actually.” I indicated my notebook before putting the receipt back to mark my spot and packing everything back into my bag. “But thanks for the offer. Maybe another time,” I said and tipped her generously.

She shrugged. “Keep the number. In case you change your mind.”

I did and smiled at her over my shoulder when I left the café.

Over the ocean, the pinks were surrendering to indigo and teal. Night’s breath was icy on the breeze.

* * *

I pulled on my jacket and left the car back at the mouth of the path that led to the church. It was a short walk of not even ten minutes, and I was glad that I also kept a flashlight in the trunk, because even with an almost full moon above, it was dark out here.

The trees grew tall on all sides, branches eating at the dusky sky. Insect noises and the sound of me walking were the only things I could hear, and there was something wonderfully peaceful about that.

I hadn’t lied to the server, I was a night owl and always had been, but I lived in the city, and night in the city was never really dark nor silent. Being out here was a different experience and refreshing in its way.

The church came up ahead of me like a looming scarecrow, raggedy and weather-beaten, but its former function clear even in its current condition. It was slightly uphill, which helped with that perception, but there was something… I had the overwhelming sense that the church had been waiting for me. That was nonsense. Buildings didn’t wait or want. They just were and aged and crumbled, but the fact this place did make me feel like the church was a living being boded well for the photos. I snapped a couple, looking up toward the church.

The church itself was really just a small building that might have held a congregation of maybe two hundred. From what I had read, there had been an abandoned mining town nearby, and the church had been left behind when the ore ran out. The bodies already in the earth had been left as well, a strange sort of exchange for the ore, iron paid for with bone.

When I reached the cemetery grounds, my flashlight licked against dark headstones that were leaning this way and that in time’s pull. With the dark church behind them, all this needed to be a perfect set for a horror movie was some fog and maybe a wolf howling. I chuckled. This was wonderful.

I decided that I would just walk around a bit so I could get a feel for the place, take some shots as I did so to begin with. I turned the flashlight off, put it in my camera bag, and started. The strobing light of my camera flash threw odd shadows that lingered on my retinas. I made my way toward the church doors in a slow half circle, not really planning anything, just going by instinct. Then, with a shot of a cracked church window, I saw that the door to the building was open, just enough to draw a hard shadow in the light of my camera flash.

I stopped and turned my flashlight back on, aiming it at the door. I took another picture even if the flashlight would mess up the lighting. I wasn’t sure why, because I was pretty good about not wasting shots. Some instinct maybe, or a random muscle jerk.

“Oh, opportunity, you call me,” I whispered, running the flashlight up the door, which was indeed open.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Alexa (she/her) has a lot of characters living in her head and wanting their stories told. Many of these people get snarky and won’t stop complaining if Alexa is too slow writing them, which means that for this author, sleep is a luxury. Consequently, Alexa is a coffee addict, but she is sure she has it under control (six cups of coffee are normal in a morning, right? Right!?)

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RELEASE BLITZ: Prisoner by GiGi DeGraham #ParanormalRomance #Gay #GenderQueer #Suspense @ninestarpress @GoIndiMarketing

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Title: Prisoner

Series: Steele Pack, Book One

Author: GiGi DeGraham

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 01/31/2023

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 88800

Genre: Paranormal, contemporary, romance, gay/questioning, genderqueer/genderfluid, asexual, interracial, action/adventure, suspense, prisoners, prison/prison escape, grieving, graphic violence, rape attempt, PTSD, off-grid living/isolation, subsistence/hunting, winter, one-bed, soulmates, friends to lovers, second chance, mysterious wolves

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Description

Most prisoners believe their punishment is unfair, but for Ryan Tarkett, it’s true. While serving his sentence, an attack sets off a chain of events and forces Ryan to speed up the timeline on an insane escape plan. Spurring him on are memories of his past, his one love, who he met in juvie, and the driving desire for freedom. When Ryan believes he has nothing left to lose, escape from prison becomes the only option.

Ryan’s desperate journey isn’t easy as he tries to evade capture. Past regrets and confusion about his sexual orientation dog him as he deals with the loss of Thomas. When a stranger gives Ryan the chance at a new life, somewhere he might begin to feel safe, he may learn to trust again.

But in his mountain hideaway, Ryan feels as if he is being watched. Something lurks in the surrounding woods. Flashes of a figure give the impression he is being followed or, worse, hunted. Alone and lonely, Ryan fears he is losing his mind. When his new shadow seems intent on sticking around, Ryan starts to suspect this is no ordinary Wolf.

Prisoner is a different kind of love story, where a mystery waits to unfold.

Excerpt

Prisoner
GiGi DeGraham © 2023
All Rights Reserved

Prisoner 793 lay on his cot in his cell, staring up at the rough joint that drew a harsh line across the concrete ceiling. His eyes traced the stone seam, and by now, he knew every bump and divot of the rugged line. Immeasurable minutes of his life had been spent with his eyes affixed on the thing while contemplating his time. Because of all he did not possess, other than a bundle of letters, this was something he had plenty of. Time there was measured in years still left to serve. Twelve down, and thirty-eight to go. Thirty-eight years to look forward to staring at that same ragged seam across the ceiling they hadn’t even taken the time to trowel smooth when they built this godforsaken prison.

His bed, this meager cot, with its navy-blue ticking, was a place he both hated and would defend to the death because it was his. Prisoner 793 had spent the better part of the last two years on this cot, and he would not let some new chester come in and try to take it. Hell, he wouldn’t let anyone take anything from him, and neither would his cellmate, who he internally called Big Bastard.

It was a place that 793 had earned, this thin bed on the top of the double bunk. Big Bastard had kept his bottom bunk with just a look, and he might have grunted once the first day a new, unwelcome prisoner was added to their cell. The new guy didn’t even consider it, tangling with the bigger man, so he’d looked above, to 793’s cot, to him, the lesser of the two evils in the room. Now, the new guy slept on the floor temporarily on a flat mat that kept him from freezing solid in the night. The surface was always cold, even cool-to-the-touch on nights in mid-August. They kept it cold in prison to keep men tamed.

During summer days, the floor just sweat, making everything smell worse than it already did. But this new man was there for something the warden liked to call “overcrowding,” and for the last three months, 793 had fought the same man. Clearly, the problem wasn’t going away. Not until the warden got the additional funding he’d been lobbying for to add yet another wing in this constant effort to house more men.

These floor mats had a crinkling, silver film that rustled every time one of the transfers shifted in their sleep or even took a breath. It had put Big Bastard in a foul mood for three straight months, and more than once, he’d huffed, gotten up, and kicked the shit out of the new prisoner who couldn’t be still or breathed in or out too loud. Big Bastard hated the guy. He either liked or simply tolerated 793, who hadn’t slept on a mat, not once. From the first day 793 had arrived at this medium-security prison, he’d handled business and secured his cot with his fists.

It was like anywhere. When you transferred into a new place, you started over. But before, at his first prison—a maximum-security federal penitentiary called Supermax, deep in the south of Louisiana—793 had fought and lost many times. With every loss, he’d slept on something less than desirable. It was there at Supermax that 793 began working out in his cell. When he’d earned privileges, he started lifting weights in the yard until he could fight with a properly placed fist, a fast elbow, and a debilitating knee. These were the skills required to win and keep the cot for himself. It had taken a few pretty good ass-whippings for him to figure out just how to fight—because fighting in prison was its own kind of animal.

This new inmate, Dean Harrold, had narrower eyes than most, hardened thin slits that seemed to always tell on him. Harrold had serious issues with authority and had killed his father during a domestic dispute. His father, who had worked high up in the government, had friends who hadn’t taken any mercy on his murderous son. Dean Harrold was a lifer with nothing left to lose. Harrold was a muscular guy, on the tall side, but he fought with his anger rather than any real skill. He was bigger than 793 but less than Big Bastard. Harrold was never satisfied with anything and constantly complained. He was entitled and mouthy, irritating, even to the guards. Dean Harrold was just a prick.

Big Bastard had already beat him with a shoe until Harrold understood he had to keep his trap shut. The beating had been insulting and demeaning, and Harrold simmered over it like a scorned woman as the shoe-shaped bruise darkened down his cheekbone. Big Bastard was currently in the hole for it, as Harrold had snitched, and the cell was quieter afterwards. Harrold continuously gave 793 the stink eye and made crude comments. This happened so often 793 would just get his eyes closed, and pop them back open as Harrold spouted off more of his hate. Harrold was pissed that 793 hadn’t tried to stop the beating.

“Useless mute,” Harrold had barked up at him.

Harrold was going to die in here; he was only a year older than 793, just twenty-eight, and would never be a free man again. He wasn’t lucky, but he hadn’t gotten the death penalty—the big bitch—so that was something. Still, 793 didn’t care for him.

But Harrold was here now, this last stop in life. He worked in janitorial services, and word was he might be moved out of their cell by the end of the week. Friday couldn’t come soon enough. Funny that he never attempted to sleep on Big Bastard’s cot while he was gone. He begrudgingly slept on the mat, most likely thinking 793 would rat. He wouldn’t have had to. Big Bastard would have known; he’d been there far too long for anyone to pull one over on him. Number 793 hoped Harrold would be gone by the time Big Bastard got back from the hole, and they could both get back to their somewhat normal peace and quiet.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

GiGi DeGraham lives, plays, and learns in New Orleans. She is a proud southerner and enjoys fixing up old houses and writing. Most of her story and character ideas develop while sanding and painting. She loves to roller skate and has a favorite author-named cat called Irving, after Washington Irving. You’ll always find her with an audiobook in her ear and listening to everything narrated by Kirt Graves.

GiGi prefers the outdoors when the weather permits, going on rock and fossil hunts or visiting local rock shops. Otherwise, she’s clacking away at her keyboard until the wee hours. GiGi firmly believes downtime should be spent on a porch swing. GiGi is a life-long supporter of the LGBTQ+ community.

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COVER REVEAL: Dangerous Dreams by Annie Roads #RomanticSuspense #CoverReveal @greyspromo @Abbie_Roads

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Abbie Roads has revealed the cover
and blurb  for Dangerous Dreams!

Releasing March 14, 2023

Xander
Love makes you weak and vulnerable. He vowed long ago to never feel that way again. But when he rescues a woman who’s been held hostage, she challenges all his beliefs. The attraction is staggering. The urge to keep her near him, to keep her safe, is overwhelming. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t resist her. And he’s not sure he wants to because deep down he knows he’s the only one who can protect her.
 
Isleen
There’s only one reason she survived the past eight years of torture and starvation. Her nightly dreams of him: The man who finally rescues her. But now that she’s safe, the outside world no longer makes sense, and she’s questioning her own sanity. Is she a bad person? Was humanity better off when she was locked away? The only thing she knows for sure is that she feels secure with him. But what if he’s in danger because of her?
 
No one is safe.
Everyone is at risk.
Who will survive?
Who will die?
Only fate can decide.

 Preorder today on Amazon!
https://mybook.to/dangerousdreams

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Meet Abbie Roads

By day Abbie Roads is a mental health counselor always focusing on the bright side. By night she writes on the dark side, but always with hope and a happily-ever-after. She loves true crime and good inspirational quote.
 
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