Tag Archives: witches

Release Blitz: Love, Blood, and Sanctuary #LGBTQ #paranormalromance @megan_hart @fionazedde @GoIndiMarketing @ninestarpress

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Title: Love, Blood, and Sanctuary

Author: Brenda Murphy, Megan Hart, Fiona Zedde

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 06/07/2021

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 95800

Genre: Paranormal, LGBTQIA+, romance, paranormal, BDSM, lesbian, demon, blood magic, D/s relationship, sex club, spirit, witch, hemomancer, Rosh Hashanah, established couple, reunited, demi-goddess

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Description

Haunted? Hunted? When you need a safe place from disaster, heartbreak, or gods trying to break you and drain your blood… come to Sanctuary. It’s New York’s most exclusive club for magical beings and the backdrop of three sexy stories from three award winning authors.

We Choose to Be by Megan Hart
Love is in the air…and the blood. When hemomancer Hadassah meets the woman of her dreams, she has no idea that Yael is actually a blood demon. Is it only the draw of Hadassah’s talents that brings Yael into her bed? Or is there something more. Something that could last. What is love, after all, unless it’s bound by blood?

Sanguine Faith by Brenda Murphy
After a messy break-up leaves Laurel homeless and unemployed, she accepts her great-uncle’s offer of a townhouse and a job. When a seductive spirit trapped in the town house offers Laurel a means of escaping the life her uncle has planned for her, she learns that free does not mean without cost.

Promises Made by Starlight by Fiona Zedde
Abandoned by her wife years before and left devastated, Izzy has recently lost nearly everything else. Her credit is abysmal, she’s underemployed, and her successful best friend treats her like a charity case. But when her wife reappears, breaking her heart all over again, Izzy finds that not everything is as it seems. Blood gods walk the earth, and the one she once welcomed into her bed is back—ready to reclaim what’s hers.

Excerpt

Love, Blood, and Sanctuary
Brenda Murphy, Megan Hart, Fiona Zedde © 2021
All Rights Reserved

From Sanguine Faith

The rap on the car window rattled the glass. Laurel started and slammed her knee into the steering wheel. She cursed softly as she jabbed the window control button. The demon was dressed as a policeman. He wore dark glasses and his beefy hands rested on his thick duty belt nestled between the pepper spray canister and his pistol holster. A slight glow from a pouch near his hip was the only clue to his true identity. Huffing out her frustration at the window’s lack of response, Laurel shoved open the car door.

“You okay?” The officer leaned closer and peered into her face. His feet were squarely inside the circle of salt Laurel had spread around the car the night before.

“Yeah.” Laurel cleared her throat. “I’m okay.”

“You can’t sleep here.” He gestured to the street lined with ancient brownstone townhouses and graffiti covered buildings. “It’s not safe.”

“I’m sorry—” Laurel wiped her hand over her face and squinted at the officer’s name badge. “—Officer Sullivan, is it? I worked a late shift and didn’t feel safe driving anymore. I pulled over here to catch a nap.”

“Stow it. I passed this way last evening, and you were parked here. Your car hasn’t moved.” He leaned closer and removed his sunglasses and slipped them into his shirt pocket. “I know your uncle.”

“Great-uncle.” Laurel stared at his face and inhaled sharply. His eyes were light gray rimmed with red, her image mirrored in their shallow depths. His practiced glare was that of an experienced centurion. Laurel shivered under Sullivan’s gaze, unable to look away from the magical enforcer. He was bound to her clan, sworn to serve and protect. Loyal to a fault, willing to die for the family. Her great-uncle had a legion of centurions, all more than willing to aid and abet his less than legal business dealings.

“Is that so? Why are you here? What do you want?” Laurel pressed her lips together and rolled the hem of her shirt between her fingers.

Officer Sullivan leaned down and spoke softly. “You’re royalty in our world, Laurel. He know you’re sleeping in your car?” His melodious tones seeped into her body as he used the old language, the language of secrets, curses, spells, and death.

Laurel suppressed her shudder. “My roommate kicked me out.” She scrubbed her hand over her face in an attempt to hide the lie. “It was sudden.”

The centurion straightened and pursed his lips. He drummed the fingers of his hand on his holster. “All right, Laurel, if that’s how you want to play it. You need to discuss this with your great-uncle. If you don’t, I will. I don’t want to find you sleeping in your car again.” He tilted his head. “You may not have inherited your family’s abilities but you’re still family. We take care of our own. I can’t spend my nights watching you sleep, keeping watch for the Orions.”

Laurel gripped her keys tightly. Orions. The hunters. So many missing. So many gone in the blink of an eye, their bloodless and mutilated bodies found months or years later. Or worse found still smoldering, their mouths open in voiceless screams. She had taken a chance last night, but after walking in on her girlfriend eyebrows deep between their neighbor’s legs she had stuffed her car full of what it would hold and fled.

“I’ll be safe.” She lifted her shoulders and let them fall, straightening her posture before she settled her hands at nine and three on the steering wheel. “I’ll talk to him today.”

Officer Sullivan stepped back, smearing the salt of the circle she had spread around the car. He pointed at it, lifted his chin, and smirked. “Seriously? It doesn’t work unless you infuse it with energy.”

Laurel inserted the keys into the ignition. “I know.” She looked away from her feeble attempt to protect herself and his smirk. After snapping her seatbelt in place, she waved at him and closed the door. She banged her hand hard on the steering wheel when the telltale click-click-click of a dead battery echoed in the car. “Fuck me.”

Officer Sullivan opened her door. “Come on. I’ll give you a lift.”

Laurel chewed her lip as she looked down at her paint-stained black T-shirt and tatty jeans. “I can’t go like this.”

Officer Sullivan rapped on the top of the car. “Get out. Now. I don’t have all day to deal with you, Laurel. And it’s not worth my life to leave you here with a broken-down car.” He stepped back and crossed his thick arms. “Do I need to assist you in exiting the car?”

Laurel shivered. She had experienced a centurion’s assistance just once and the memory of it still woke her at night. She trembled and wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. “Let me grab my backpack.”

“Good choice.”

Laurel gathered the few things she didn’t want to leave in the car. After jamming her sketchbook next to her ancient laptop in her bag, she zipped the top closed and grabbed her hooded sweatshirt from the backseat before she exited the car.

“You hungry?”

“I’d really like coffee. I can’t talk to Great-uncle Marcus without some caffeine on board.”

“Come on, I’ll buy you breakfast.”

“Why’d you let me sleep there last night if you were just going to take me to my uncle today?”

“I didn’t want to wake you.”

Laurel glanced at Officer Sullivan walking beside her. “Thank you.”

“No problem. To serve and protect. Even if it’s from yourself.” He held the car door open, and she slid onto the cool leather seat. She settled her backpack between her feet and pulled on her black hooded sweatshirt. The car shifted to the side as Officer Sullivan entered and levered his bulk behind the wheel.

He waited until she had fastened her seatbelt before he started the car. Laurel’s gaze slid over the array of weapons lining the car. Magical weapons clipped into racks side by side with conventional firearms, their soft glow visible to Laurel.

Able to see magic, unable to wield her own power, the last female of a clan stretching back eons, unwilling to assume her role as clan leader and unwilling to produce an heir, Laurel chewed her lip as the car shot forward bringing her closer to her great-uncle’s house.

Laurel shifted in her seat and drummed her fingers on her knees. “You worked for my mom and dad, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

Laurel stared out of the window. A familiar ache settled in her chest. There were some things even magic couldn’t protect you from. The ratty buildings gave way to well-kept streets and high-rise buildings. The sidewalks were crowded with people scurrying to work and school.

“Do you think the humans ever get it? Like, do they know about us? Really get it? Other than the ones we make consorts?”

“Humans see what they want to see. If they ever understood how powerful supernaturals are, they would freak right the fuck out. And try to exterminate us. Again. All of us. Their unwillingness to see and believe is what keeps us safe.” He tapped the pistol on his belt. “And this.”

Laurel shuddered as the car slowed and stopped.

Officer Sullivan turned off the engine and preened in the rearview mirror a moment before he turned his head to face Laurel. “How do you take your coffee?”

“Black. Unless it’s that dark roast crap. Then make it white as a virgin’s wedding dress.”

Officer Sullivan’s loud guffaw exploded in the quiet of the car. “You got it.” He left the car.

Laurel glanced at the tarnished Saint Christopher medal stuck to the car’s headliner and rolled her eyes. A group of humans rushed past, small children and their adults, animated and laughing, their voices muffled by the car window. The gentle ache in her heart blossomed into full-blown longing. Laurel blinked the grit of exhaustion from her eyes, leaned back against the headrest, and rehearsed the story she would spin for her great-uncle, hoping he would listen, knowing he would not.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Authors

Brenda Murphy

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

I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it. For a free short story, information on book signings, appearances, work in progress snippets, previews and sneak-peeks, sign up for my email list at: http://www.brendalmurphy.com/


https://www.instagram.com/quinbysideshow

Megan Hart

Megan Hart writes books. Some of them use bad words, but most of the other words are okay. Some of them hit bestseller lists and win awards and some don’t, but that’s the way it goes. She can’t live without music, the internet, or the ocean, but she and soda have achieved an amicable uncoupling. She loathes the feeling of corduroy or velvet, and modern art leaves her cold. She writes a little bit of everything from horror to romance, though she’s best known for writing steamy fiction that sometimes makes you cry.

Website: www.MeganHart.com
https://www.facebook.com/readinbed
https://twitter.com/megan_hart

Fiona Zedde

Fiona Zedde was born under the Jamaican sun but now makes her home in Spain. Since getting the writing bug, she’s published around thirty books and short stories, mostly about black queer romance, including the Lambda Literary Award finalists, Bliss and Every Dark Desire. Her novel Dangerous Pleasures received a Publishers Weekly starred review and was winner of an About.com Readers’ Choice Award for Best Lesbian Novel or Memoir.

At this very second, she’s probably writing another book, and it has 100 percent chance of having queer romance and queer women in it. Her pseudo-healthy obsessions are French pastries, English cars, and Jamaican food.

Website: www.fionazedde.com
http://www.facebook.com/fiona.zedde
http://www.twitter.com/fionazedde

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Release Blitz: Give Me Grace by Bethany A. Perry #paranormalromance #LGBTQ @bperry_writes @GoIndiMarketing @ninestarpress

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Title: Give Me Grace

Author: Bethany A. Perry

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 05/24/2021

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 85300

Genre: Paranormal, LGBTQIA+, urban fantasy lgbt, contemporary fantasy, witch urban fantasy, demon paranormal, demon witch, demon lgbt, lgbt fantasy fiction, friends to lovers, nuns, magic, amnesia fantasy, angels

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Description

It’s been six weeks since Halloween. Six weeks since Grace stumbled into the ER, almost dead and begging for help. Six weeks since she lost every single memory, including her own name.

Taken in by the mysterious Sisters of the Order of Saint Raphael the Healer, Grace’s wounds are dressed and she is assured her memories will return—in time. But does Grace want her memories back? Maybe she’s chosen to forget them, maybe there’s a reason. The sisters hide things from her. They whisper things about her.

When a demon forces its way into the convent, it declares that Grace is a demon too. Grace demands answers. Answers that may reveal not only who she is, but that the sisters might not be who they say they are, either.

Excerpt

Give Me Grace
Bethany A. Perry © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Grace knelt on the kneeling bar, whatever it was the sisters called it, and folded her hands together behind the pew in front of her. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Sister Monica.”

The novice nun kneeling beside her shook her head a millimeter, her curls almost bursting through her headscarf, and clenched her hands tighter. Her lips moved over a prayer, her eyes squinched closed.

Grace grinned and scooted closer. She did close her eyes, though, making a clumsy sign of the cross over her shoulders. An approximation, at least. Her inability to get it right exasperated the sisters on a damn near hilarious level. “Are we doing your coming-of-age ceremony today?”

Monica’s lips stopped moving, and she pressed them together. They didn’t disappear into nothingness the way the mother made hers do, but by the time Mon was Mother Mary’s age, she’d be able to do it better. She leaned, her umber skin mellow in the low light of the sanctuary, and whispered so quiet Grace had to listen with all she had to catch it. “Either shut up and pray or leave and meet me in your room.”

Grace swallowed, the blood rushing to her cheeks. “Sorry, Mon. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to take communion with you, if you were going to take your vows.”

Mouth dropping open, Monica turned to her. “Why would you want to do that?” Her voice echoed off the vaulted ceiling, the walls, and the windows, including the lone stained-glass window in the sanctuary.

One of the other sisters, Eliana probably, shushed. The shush was so sharp it may have cut the air as it sped across the cavernous room.

Monica stood, stuffing her rosary under her robes, and grabbed Grace above the elbow. She tugged, not unkindly.

Grace held her abs with one hand and stood. The twinge as she did brought back her first memory with force. The splat-splat-splat of her own intestines as they hit the floor of the hospital emergency room. Everything before that moment, including how she’d been gutted, was a deep well of nothing.

Her next memory, which was much nicer, was of Monica, sitting next to her hospital bed and assuring her that her full memory would return in time.

As the sanctuary doors closed, the chilly hallway enveloped them. The morning sun hadn’t had a chance to penetrate it yet, and the walls radiated last night’s cold.

Grace shivered and shook her head to clear it of the slapping sound her guts had made when they hit the tile. For all the good it’d do. “Sorry. I thought you were going to get your habit today and stuff. Take your vows. All that.”

Monica shook her head with a frown. “Mother Mary told me I’m not ready yet. I guess I have more study to do.” Still walking, she looked Grace up and down. “How’re your wounds?”

“Healing.”

“You’re a fast healer.”

“Only because you help me.” She rubbed the scar below her stomach. “Glad we finally got the bandages off. How long have I been here again?”

“The Order took you in from the hospital about”—she drew out the u, squeezing her eyes closed—“six weeks ago?”

“Weird. I feel like I’ve known you a lot longer than that.”

They turned a corner, bright sun flooding the next hallway—Grace’s favorite hallway—dust motes dancing along the shafts, and stopped before the only other stained-glass window in the place.

Raphael the Archangel stood outlined in pinks and blues, gold shining all around his head and shoulders, what the sisters called his halo. His glowing hands rested on the heads of two penitents who knelt before him, their eyes bleeding.

Monica smiled. “The feeling’s mutual.” Cheeks tinged red, she crossed herself, curtsied to Raphael, and continued down the hall.

Grace cast a glance at the window. Raphael’s face wore an out-of-place expression of serenity while blessing two people who cried tears of blood. Despite the eyes, she found peace in the scene.

She caught up to Monica, running her hand through the two inches of hair on her head, the healing scar a line slashed through it. “That library is the darkest room in this convent. You’d think they’d want windows so you could actually see the words in the books.”

“The books are old, Grace. They’d react badly to sunlight. We’ve had this conversation.” She stopped, one hand on an enormous door handle. “Did you want to keep me company today?”

“I was serious about the communion, Mon.” Grace bit her lip. Six weeks’ worth of changing bandages and chatting and following her around the convent made Grace feel close to Sister Monica. Like a real friend. This ceremony was a Big Deal to Mon, and Mon was a Big Deal to Grace. It only seemed right to do it with her, even if she wasn’t Catholic.

Monica eased the creaking door open. “I’ll speak to Mother Mary.” With the hand not holding the door, she brushed her fingertips along Grace’s cheek.

Grace’s heart tripped a beat. Something about the way her fingers moved like butterfly feet made Grace lose her breath.

“Thank you. You’re a good friend. I hope you’re still here when I take my vows.”

Brows knit, Grace peeked into the library. She lowered her voice. “Where would I go? I don’t even remember who I am, much less where home is.”

Monica shrugged, her robes shifting with a soft sigh. “If your memory comes back, you’ll probably want to leave.” She sucked a sharp breath over her teeth. “Not that I don’t want you to get your memory back. I just meant—”

“I know. I hope I’m still here too.” Grace smiled, lips stretched tight. “If I remember who I am before then, I’ll come back just to share your communion. Okay?”

Frowning, Monica lowered her eyes. “I’d like that.”

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Meet the Author

Bethany is a southern transplant in the west, where she’s made her home with her kids, partner, pets, and several hostages…er…houseplants she hasn’t killed yet. Poetry was her first love, and she’s been writing since she could hold a pencil. Horror is her sweet spot, but all things sci-fi and fantasy are also deeply entrenched in her heart.

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Release Blitz: The Vampire’s Witch by Damian Serbu #paranormalromance #LGBTQ @DamianSerbu @ninestarpress @GoIndiMarketing

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Title: The Vampire’s Witch

Series: The Realm of the Vampire Council

Author: Damian Serbu

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 04/19/2021

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: M/NB

Length: 98500

Genre: Pararnormal, LGBTQIA+, Established couples, vampires, witches, college, reunited, grief, men with pets, dark, ghost, immortal, magic

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Description

The Vampire’s Witch welcomes readers back to the world of vampires, witches, and magic.

Jaret Bachmann’s life spins out of control after a handsome stranger saves him from an attack along the bike path on Lakeshore Drive. His estranged high school sweetheart stalks him, the enraged ghost of his ancestor destroys his family, and his bike path savior-cum-lover abandons him after learning Jaret is a powerful witch.

A horrific family tragedy sends Jaret into deep depression. Struggling to find his way afterward, Jaret searches for comfort in the unlikely friendship of a secret vampire community.

Over time, Jaret’s friendship with the vampires strengthens and he forges a new family connection with Xavier, Thomas, and Catherine. But he and Anthony are estranged, and though their souls are entwined, their hearts are another matter.

Xavier, Thomas, Anthony, and Catherine return in this, the third book in The Realm of the Vampire Council series and a sequel to The Bachmann Family Secret.

Excerpt

The Vampire’s Witch
Damian Serbu © 2021
All Rights Reserved

19 April 2010

Chicago, Illinois

Even after three years, living in a big city still creeped Jaret Bachmann out. He hated his fear of dark corners and alleys, not to mention his concern about getting beat up as a gay guy. Straight guys, no matter how peaceful they looked, worried him. In broad daylight, he felt more secure as long as he watched where he went, kept his head up, and stayed in populated areas. And he loved living in the Rogers Park neighborhood. Being in a metropolitan area was so much better for him than small town Colorado. Still, he only had a little light available before the sun went down tonight.

He giggled at himself to release some tension. His mind went to some weird place about the sun setting, like a vampire might jump out and attack him. As if.

Heading out to meet his best friend, Brady, Jaret relaxed once he got to the path along Lake Michigan. He passed several joggers, almost got hit by a bike, and meandered his way south. He contemplated taking the “L” but had plenty of time to walk. The spring weather warmed up Chicago, still a comfortable seventy degrees, even as the sun slowly descended in the west. The weather was perfect. Besides, he could always use the exercise.

Jaret felt safer and got his iPod out to search for music. He loved Lady Gaga; why not a little monster love? Or Train’s latest CD rocked. Still, he paused at “Relax” and grinned. That song totally kicked ass. Totally. And, he hadn’t listened to much of his favorite singer’s first album in a long time. If he loved Lady Gaga, then words couldn’t describe his adoration for Mika.

He popped in his earbuds and picked up his pace. He even danced a little, despite being in public and seeing the few passersby glancing his way as if he’d gone insane.

The path grew darker with the setting sun and the trees lining both sides of the trail. This dance mix steeled Jaret’s nerves. He wiggled his butt, jumped to the side, and smiled at a little old lady and her dog as they walked by.

A few yards later, he was alone. He fretted a little but cranked the music to ignore the world around him. To comfort himself, he reached into his pocket and rubbed the ruby necklace he always brought along for protection. All the Bachmann heirloom jewels empowered his witchcraft and kept him safe, and he loved the beautiful rubies most of all. In a pinch, he could always use his magic to ward anyone off. He’d never had to use his ability to defend himself, except from ghosts, but knew he could if needed. Being a witch had its advantages.

Jaret almost missed the group of four guys sitting off to the side, watching the lake or something. He slowed when he glimpsed a bright-red shirt and thought of his boyfriend, Steve. He’d seen Steve earlier in the day, wearing this totally hot red T-shirt that clung to his chest and showed off his gorgeous biceps. He couldn’t remember the shirt exactly, though he thought it had a University of Nebraska logo on the front.

Jaret lurched to a stop when he bumped into someone. “Uh, oh. Sorry. I didn’t see you.” He glanced up to see another guy with a pretty big belly, yet tons of muscle, not to mention a wicked scowl.

The guy yanked out Jaret’s earbuds and glared down at him. “Fuckin’ fairy. Watch where you’re walkin’.”

“Sorry,” Jaret barely whispered and started shaking. He’d heard about gay bashings but had never experienced one. In fact, he had never been in a fight. He could see this dude meant him harm by the way he loomed over him.

Jaret reached into his pocket for the necklace. His shaking hands got the better of him, and his finger got stuck in the little coin pocket instead.

Growing more afraid, Jaret stepped to the side to continue until the guy moved with him and blocked his way. Jaret stared at the familiar logo of Northwestern football on the purple T-shirt. He often saw the very shirt on Steve. This guy was enormous. Not good.

His heart racing, Jaret scanned for anyone nearby watching. He spotted the group of four guys out of the corner of his eye. Any chance for help evaporated when two of them moved closer, and he saw they, too, wore Northwestern football gear.

One of them grinned and clapped. “Caught yourself a little fag, Mikey? What you gonna do with him?”

Mikey laughed and crossed his bazooka-sized forearms over his chest. Then he reached down and petted Jaret on the head like a dog. Jaret had little time to act to protect himself. There was no time to get the necklace out. He shot to the side to move around the asshole, but the guy put out his leg and tripped Jaret. He sprawled onto the path, skinning his elbow.

Jaret’s heart pounded as fear almost overwhelmed him.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Damian Serbu lives in the Chicago area with his husband and two dogs, Akasha and Chewbacca. The dogs control his life, tell him what to write, and threaten to eat him in the middle of the night if he disobeys. He has published The Vampire’s Angel, The Vampire’s Quest, and The Vampire’s Protégé, as well as Santa’s Kinky Elf, Simon and Santa Is a Vampire with NineStar Press. The Bachmann Family Secret is scheduled for release July 2020. Keep up to date with him on Facebook, Twitter, or at http://www.DamianSerbu.com.

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Release Blitz: Buried by Lizzie Strong #LGBTQ #paranormal @ninestarpress @GoIndiMarketing

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Title: Buried

Series: The Secrets Witches Keep, Book One

Author: Lizzie Strong

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 04/19/2021

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 88400

Genre: Pararnormal, LGBTQIA+, Witches, Swamps, Frankenstein monster, Necromancy, Sisterhood, Deep friendship, asexual

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Description

Quinn’s mistake wasn’t killing Leo Ashwood; it was bringing him back. Now in a cat and mouse game with a monster she created, Quinn learns what her powers are truly capable of.

Brought together by a vision, Cecelia and Quinn are entangled in the chase for Leo Ashwood. Cecelia, a seer who is known for sticking her nose into other’s business for their better good, is now sent into a world unknown to her with no defense against the monster, her own powers, and the budding feelings for Quinn. Maggie, however, was merely at the wrong place at the wrong time and left with no other choice but to join forces. An up and coming YouTube superstar struck down by sickness, her voice is both her magical survival and death wrapped in one.

These three young, untrained witches will have to lean on each other if they want to survive. Navigating the world of humans, the new reality of witches, and the horror of magic, they might just make it… if they can keep their secrets to themselves.

Excerpt

Buried
Lizzie Strong © 2021
All Rights Reserved

10-39 at 37 E street, suite 1802, back-up required.

“Quinn Gwenevieve Foster, age 16, born Idabel, Oklahoma… you sure are a long way from home.” Pressure built up at the back of my head as the voice of the detective clawed at the insides of my ears. The pressure dulled but never released as I opened my eyes, which was an effort in itself. My eyelids were the weight of cement bricks.

The windows fogged in the frosty interrogation room. The only light came from the sharp halogen bulbs and the long, thin window along the top of the wall. A female officer had chained my hands to the table, which forced contact with the harsh steel, stinging my skin.

“I want a lawyer,” I answered, my head hung to the right.

“Of course, and you can have one. While we wait for them, why don’t we talk?”

Tears spilled down my cheeks. Exhaustion bit into my muscles, turning my bones to putty. If I did not rest soon, I would pass out. I wasted too much magic in Leo Ashwood’s apartment. My aunt would not be pleased to hear how recklessly they caught me. The last time I was caught by human police, she yelled my ears raw. Out of love, out of concern and fear, it didn’t matter why she was furious with me. History showed time and time again that humans were not capable of mercy to witches. Granted, the detective had not accused me of being a witch…yet.

“I want a lawyer, sir.”

“It’s Detective Henry Smith, Miss Foster.” His face softened around the cheeks but not near his lips. The way one’s face softens when they are trying to convince someone smaller and more naïve of untrue things. His lips pursed tighter. He reminded me of Officer Blevens, the officer who dragged me out of the graveyard years ago. A man who tried to lie to my face about how much trouble I was in. I was found hip-deep in what looked like an empty grave… Well, it was an empty grave by the time they got to it. The true corpse fell apart piece by piece about thirty yards north of my arrest. Darlin foamed at the mouth when Winestra called her at about two a.m. to come to the police station. Officer Blevens looked me dead in the eye that night and gave me the same face Detective Smith gave me now. ‘It was just a slap on the wrist.’ Liar.

“I want a lawyer.” I learned my lesson from last time.

They didn’t even let me shower. I stank enough to make my eyes water and gag every time I moved. They washed my hands but crusty blood lurked under my nails. My hair was a ball of grease superglued to the top of my skull and left to drape around me. I’d never felt that gross in all of my life, and I once spent six hours drenched in rainwater and coated in graveyard soil. Her gravestone illuminated behind my lids: Melissa Keen, beloved mother and daughter, born in 1981, taken too soon. She had still been fresh; it was the whole reason I dug her up. The fresher the better. If I could bring her back, then I could bring back others…

It didn’t work out.

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Meet the Author

Born a Marine Brat I moved from state to state for much of my youth. Books were the one consistent thing in my life. Split between the high fantasy and war novels from my father and my mother’s deep love for horror novels, it was only a matter of time. From a young age I would fill up notebooks and word documents. Adaptability came in handy as I’ve worked in many different fields: food service, retail, education, special education, management. I kept coming back to books. In college I fully came out to my friends and family about my Pansexuality. Many were supportive but confused on what being Pansexual even was. I learned representation is key, but I also want to write books about fantasy, adventure, and monsters. My work is best described as a little bit spooky, a little bit magic, and a whole lot of fun.

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Release Blitz: Summoned by J.P. Jackson #LGBTQ #paranormal @jpjacksonauthor @GoIndiMarketing @ninestarpress

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Title: Summoned

Series: Magus Malegica, Book One

Author: J.P. Jackson

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 04/19/2021

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 94500

Genre: Pararnormal, LGBTQIA+, witches, werewolves, faeries, paranormal, contemporary, fantasy, bears, dark, gods, interracial, magic, magic users

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Description

Devid Khandelwal desperately wants to experience the supernatural. After years of studying everything from crystals to tarot to spellcasting, nothing has happened that would tell him the Shadow Realm is real. And that kills Dev. As a last-ditch resort, he purchases a summoning board, an occult tool that will grant him his ultimate desires.

Cameron Habersham is Dev’s best friend. Cam loves Dev like a brother and will do anything for him, as long as he looks good doing it. So when Dev asks him to perform the summoning board’s ritual, he reluctantly agrees, but he knows nothing will come of it. Nothing ever does.

However, within a day, Dev and Cam’s lives are turned upside down as wishes begin to come true. They discover the existence of a supernatural world beyond their imagination, but peace between the species is tenuous at best.

Dev finally gets to see the Shadow Realm, meets the man of his dreams, and is inducted into the local male coven. But for all the desires that were summoned into existence, Dev soon realizes the magical community dances the line between good and evil, and Cam ends up on the wrong side of everything.

The old adage is true: Be careful what you wish for.

Excerpt

Summoned
J.P. Jackson © 2021
All Rights Reserved

“It’s how much?” Cam scoffed, glaring at Damien behind the counter.

“$299.99, plus tax.” Damien’s tongue piercing got in the way of the ‘s’, and the word came out more like ‘pluth’.

“Ignore him, Damien. New piercing? I like it.” Dev tried to ameliorate his best friend’s rude comment, then turned to scowl at Cam. “Honestly, why did I ask you to come?”

“Because you love me.” Cam tapped a finger on the box Dev clutched in his hands. “Dev, your parents are going to kill you if you spend that much money.” Cam cocked an eyebrow at Dev. “And seriously, man, how are you going to pay for…whatever that thing is?”

“With this.” Dev pulled out his wallet and flipped the black leather cover open to extract a brand new, slick, and shiny, never-been-used MasterCard.

“And where the hell did you get that?”

“Special offer for impending university graduates.” Dev sneered. If all went well, he’d be graduating in the next couple of weeks. Cam, however, had dropped out the previous year to figure himself out as a rebellion against his parents’ divorce. His mother had fiercely argued against the idea for two months until she gave up and agreed to Cam taking the year off.

“Oh dude. Just say no.” Cam had never been supportive of Dev’s interest in the occult, but this was going to be the last purchase.

Unless this purchase worked. And Dev knew it would.

It had to.

Dev placed all his hopes and dreams on the fact that this was going to work.

*

Dev couldn’t wait to open up his latest acquisition.

When he and Cam had arrived at Dev’s house, all he wanted to do was rush up the stairs to hide out in his bedroom, tucked away from any distractions or family drama, intent on inspecting his newest possession. Well, any distraction other than Cam, who had accompanied him home.

Instead, as Dev started up the stairs, looking back over his shoulder to ensure Cam was following, he careened into his sister Amna.

“Ugh, you oaf!” Amna shoved him backward, pushing him into Cam. “Oh! Whatchya got in the bag? It looks like it’s from that witchy store you like!” Amna slid a finger into the bag to pull it towards her to inspect. Dev pulled his prized possession towards him.

“Cam, come on, let’s go.” Dev snarled at Amna.

Cam, however, wasn’t keeping up. He’d wandered into the kitchen. Cam was playing nice.

“Hi, Mrs. Khandelwal.” Dev’s mom loved to cook and proudly fed her family traditional meals. Tonight’s fare, from the smell of things, was Rogan Josh. Dev hated curry with a passion. He wasn’t fond of lamb either and the two together were wretched. He decided going out for fast food was a better alternative.

“Cam,” Dev ground up his face with displeasure, “let’s go.”

Cam shot daggers back at Dev. He shook his head, rolling his eyes as he returned his attention to Dev’s mom. “Nice sari!” Cam smiled. “Later, Mrs. Khandelwal.”

Upon entering Dev’s room, Cam flopped onto the bed and began examining his too-long fingernails, preening them while lying on his back. Cam’s shoulder-length sandy-brown hair, which had a slight wave to it and a multitude of natural blonde and auburn highlights, splayed out behind his head, making his pose look model-esque. His three-days’ worth of stubble added to that. Dev would never have used the description of “male model” in front of his lifelong pal. The last thing Dev wanted was to feed Cam’s ego. Cam’s head filled most spaces he inhabited.

“Get your damn boots off my bed.” Dev slapped Cam’s feet.

“Oh my god. Yes, Mom.” Cam toed off the designer rainbow-snakeskin boots. The thud, thud ricocheted in the tiny bedroom.

“What are those things made of? Lead?” Dev quipped in response to their noisy removal.

“That’s the sound of a quality product, bitch.” Cam gave Dev the side-eye. Dev caught the glance. They glared at each other for all of a second, then burst into laughter.

He continued to stare at Cam, who returned to plucking away at some unseen dirt beneath a thumbnail. He had to admit, Cam was too handsome for his own good. They had known each other since grade school and had been, for the most part, inseparable. Dev had stood by idly as Cam used his good looks to get what he wanted. Not that Dev would describe himself as ugly. Far from it. But between the two, Cam always got the good-looking guys first, and that encouraged Cam to parade around, flaunting his beauty.

Dev had invited Cam to tag along on his afternoon shopping excursion. The out-of-the-way pagan store, Magix & Mystix, held all sorts of goodies, most of which Dev couldn’t afford, hence the credit card, but he’d had his eye on this particular object for the last couple of months and had squirrelled money away like a miser in order to afford it. All that saving, though, still hadn’t amounted to the amount of cash required.

But his luck had changed when a kiosk from a local bank had opened in the Student’s Lounge at the University. The handsome, bicep-bulging booth occupant, wearing a shirt obviously a size too small, promised an enticing introductory percentage rate on the credit card, stating the bank offered the cheapest one in the city. And with this purchase from Magix & Mystix in mind and the desperation to get his hands on it, Dev signed the credit card contract in a heartbeat.

All the way downtown, and during their short walk to the store, Cam had proclaimed he was being led through the seediest parts of Edmonton’s dark alleyways on their way to make the purchase and complained often about how they were going to be robbed, stabbed, or murdered in some grisly fashion.

None of that had happened.

But Dev had finally got his paws on the summoning board, and as he pulled the rectangular box out of the store’s signature black paper bag, his stomach tensed with excitement. The coveted item had a silver pentacle stamped in the center with one word superimposed over top.

Desires

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Meet the Author

J.P. Jackson is an award-winning author of dark urban fantasy, paranormal, and even paranormal romance stories, but regardless of the genre, they always feature LGBTQ main characters.

J.P. works as an IT analyst in health care during the day, where if cornered he’d confess to casting spells to ensure clinicians actually use the electronic medical charting system he configures and implements.

At night, the writing happens, where demons, witches and shapeshifters congregate around the kitchen table and general chaos ensues. His husband of 22 years has very firmly put his foot down on any further wraith summonings and regularly lines the doorway with iron shavings and salt crystals. Imps are most definitely not house-trainable. Ghosts appear at the most inopportune times, and the Fae are known for regular visits where a glass of wine is exchanged for a good ole story or two. Although the husband doesn’t know it, Canela and Jalisco, the two Chihuahuas, are in cahoots with the spell casting.

J.P.’s other hobbies include hybridizing African Violets (thanks to grandma), extensive traveling and believe it or not, knitting.

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BOOK REVIEW: Chaos (The Library of the Profane) by J.B. Trepagnier #reverseharem #urbanfantasy

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The Library of the Profane has everything your black heart desires. But we don’t just allow anyone to get a library card.

Need to summon a demon? Raise the dead? A clan of vampires bothering you? Do you like the really nasty werewolf erotica? The Library of the Profane has all of that, but not everyone can handle the contents (Some people can’t handle their werewolf erotica). I’ve been a librarian here for five years and when I say I killed to get this job, I’m not being facetious.

You can’t check out our books. Some of the books are sentient and don’t like it. We have rooms to perform the spells in or hell, we do have a copy machine (copies are extra). When a witch came in and said they needed to do a little necromancy, I didn’t question it. They wouldn’t have been given a library card if they were going to raise someone really bad. I helped with the necromancy because it’s just my job as a librarian.

Except it wasn’t a normal resurrection. It was the physical embodiment of Chaos and when he woke up, he saw me first and now he’s attached. Chaos personified is a horrible library guest and he won’t leave with the witch who raised him. He’s constantly getting into things he’s not supposed to and he’s really into the werewolf erotica.

It’s not like I can let him out because the Library of the Profane is meant to contain Chaos. The rest of the world isn’t. He’s awful about keeping his identity secret too. A warlock, a Hellhound, and a vampire know he’s here and they are bugging me to let Chaos have a little fun.

I just want a normal day of summoning demons, cursing people, and telling people to be quiet in my library. This is too much.

MY REVIEW:

5 stars

Gods, witches, familiars, hellhounds… this book has a little bit of everything. As a lover of paranormal romances, the description for this one had me intrigued. Throw in the fact it popped up under a search for reverse harem, and I knew I had to read it.

Let me start by saying I gave it five stars for originality and a great concept. There are editing issues, both content and line, but those could easily be cleaned up. It wasn’t distracting enough to detract from the story.

I loved the characters. All of them. Ripley is feisty, sexy, and seems to find trouble even when she’s not looking for it. She’s not your typical librarian, but seems perfect for running such an unusual establishment as the Library of the Profane. The god of Chaos is hilarious, and not as oblivious as he appears. Ripley’s familiar, Felix, is definitely an added bonus to the book. The way all the characters play off one another will have you smiling or laughing nearly the entire way through.

Despite the romance building between the characters, and the comedy thrown in, there’s also a bit of action and a mystery to solve. All in all, I thoroughly enjoyed this book and I can’t wait for the next installment in the series.

*Disclaimer: The review above is only my opinion. Neither the author nor publisher requested a review. I purchased/borrowed this book from Amazon.

Book Blitz: Bait N’ Witch by Abigail Owen #paranormalromance

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Bait N’ Witch
Abigail Owen
(Brimstone Inc. #3)
Published by: Entangled: Amara
Publication date: June 15th 2020
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

Rowan McAuliffe has been hiding most of her life. Secretly trained in her powers by an unusual source, she’d been taught not to trust anyone. Especially other witches. However, after she was forced to perform a hateful act against her will, she now hides from the Covens Syndicate and their judgement.

Greyson Masters is the Syndicate’s best hunter. On top of the danger of his job, Greyson is trying to raise his triplet daughters alone, budding new witches who display an alarming combined power no one understands. Too bad he doesn’t have a clue how to deal with them.

Until Rowan walks in and the chaos settles for the first time in…well, ever.

Little does Greyson realize that his new nanny is the very witch he is hunting, and she’s been hiding right under his nose this whole time.

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—

EXCERPT:

Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and tension filled the spaces inside him like a curtain of electricity. Awareness, impossible to not call what it was.

Rowan snatched her gaze away, and his head cleared enough for the realization to seep in that he hadn’t smiled, truly smiled, since his wife’s death. The thought struck hard and he rubbed at a spot on his chest as his mind transitioned from turned on, to shock, to aggravated at himself in the space of seconds, left buzzing with emotion either way.

Pulling his own gaze away, he cleared his throat. He shouldn’t be letting his nanny affect him this way. “I should’ve guessed Delilah would send me someone more than capable.”

“I don’t know about that,” she muttered under her breath. “So all of it was a test. The burnt dinner?”

Greyson grimaced. “Yes.”

“The girl’s running away?”

He nodded.

“What about their fight this morning?”

Another grimace. “That was real.”

“And your attitude?”

He frowned. “What attitude?”

She peered at him for a long moment, and Greyson got the uneasy impression she found him wanting somehow.

“Never mind,” she murmured. Was she placating him?

“Are the schedule and the expectations of me the same?” she asked.

“Yes.” What was wrong with his schedule?

Her mouth pursed, but she nodded. “Fine.”

“So you’ll stay?” Oddly, Greyson found himself holding his breath for her response. An hour in her company, surrounded by her wildflower and honey scent, and part of him wanted her to stay. So unlike him, he brushed that wayward feeling aside with irritation and waited for her response.

She sighed. “I don’t have a choice.”

The words, or maybe the way she said them, triggered instinct honed over years of being a hunter. “What does that mean?”

A strong emotion flashed in her eyes. If he had to guess, he would’ve said panic, but the expression was gone so quickly he couldn’t be sure.

Then she offered a sweet smile. “It means you clearly need help. So, yes, I’ll stay.”

Greyson levered to his feet. He needed help, did he? “I’ll be in my room if you need me. Good night, Rowan.” Her name felt strange on his lips. Right and wrong at the same time.

“Mr. Masters—” She stopped him at the door, and he swung to face her, eyebrows raised in question.

She didn’t bother to get up. “Don’t test me like that again.”

Or what?

“Remember…observations can go two ways.”

Did she just imply she was observing him? Before he could snap out a question, she stood and turned off the TV. “Good night.”

Greyson headed back upstairs, coming to terms with a rare experience. He’d been effectively dismissed by a woman who happened to be his girls’ nanny. Most women rushed to please him. Rowan practically sprinted in the opposite direction.

Bigger question…why did her contrary reaction turn him on?


Author Bio:

Multi-award-winning paranormal romance author, Abigail Owen, loves plots that move hot and fast, feisty heroines with sass, alpha heroes with heart, a dash of snark, and oodles of sexy shifters! Other titles include wife, mother, Star Wars geek, ex-competitive skydiver, spreadsheet lover, Dr. Seuss quoter, eMBA, organizational guru, Texan, Aggie, and chocoholic.

Abigail grew up consuming books and exploring the world through her writing. She attempted to find a practical career related to her favorite pastime by earning a degree in English Rhetoric (Technical Writing). However, she swiftly discovered that writing without imagination is not nearly as fun as writing with it.

Abigail currently resides in Austin, Texas, with her own personal hero (who she totally married!) and their two children, who are growing up way too fast.

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Shadowy Pines by L.D. Blakeley #PNR #GayRomance #LGBT #NewRelease @evernightpub @LDBlakeley

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Thanks so much for having me on your blog 🙂

A few years ago I went sightseeing in my own backyard and fell in love with a beautiful area just a few hours outside of Toronto called the Kawarthas. It’s the kind of place where I could imagine buying a cottage, or even picture moving to on a more permanent basis one day. You see, it has a vibe. I know – how very woo. But it does. It’s magical, almost otherworldly. And I knew in an instant I was going to create a fictional universe based on this bewitching region in Ontario, Canada.

 

SHADOWY PINES by L.D. Blakeley
Available: November 28, 2018
Paranormal Romance, MM Romance, Magical Realism
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
ISBN: 978-1-77339-846-4
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer | Editor: CA Clauson

When an over-educated, underemployed millennial is called home to help with the family business, he jumps at the chance to leave his crap job, crappier love life, and the city behind.

But moving to Shadowy Pines isn’t quite the idyllic life change Finn Parks imagined.

How the hell do you cope when you find out magic – actual magic – is real? Or that you also happen to come from a long line of powerful witches? And that handsome man with all the sizzle? Yeah, he might be trying to kill you.

FML.

Read an excerpt

 

Where To Buy:

Evernight Publishing → $3.99 $2.99 until Dec. 12

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Excerpt:

“You’d be surprised how easily swayed I can be by a handsome face.”

Not for nothing, but Finn was fairly certain that was a come on. It had been a while, but he did remember what one sounded like. This one was … nicer, somehow. It still had the promising lilt of innuendo, but it didn’t sound like it had been rehearsed or lifted from bad porn dialogue.

“My aunt says you’re new in town, too. What’re you here for?”

“Business. Boring family business.”

“How vague,” Finn teased.

“Seriously. My father sent me back here to check out a vineyard. He’s interested in adding it to the wine brewing facility we already run, the Sharpe Wine Butler on the outskirts of town. You know it?”

“Can’t say I do, but it sounds more interesting than why I moved here.”

“Why are you in Shadowy Pines?”

“Jude and Poppy needed my help, I had nothing worth holding on to in the city, so—here I am.” Finn shrugged. “Now that’s boring,” he added with what he hoped was a charming smile.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Finn.” Owen pulled his chair closer and placed his hand on Finn’s knee. “Feel that?”

Of course he did. It felt as though a live wire had been placed against his bare skin.

“Yes.” Finn cursed the breathy, needy tone his voice had taken on. “What…” He wasn’t sure how to phrase his question so it wouldn’t offend. “What is that? I mean, I get the concept of electrical attraction, but this? This isn’t normal.”

When Owen didn’t reply right away, Finn prodded, “Right?”

“No, not really.” Owen’s fingers were slowly caressing Finn’s leg and inching their way up his thigh “Not for most people.” Owen leaned forward and took Finn’s face in both hands and brought their lips so close Finn swore he could taste him. Owen’s eyes visibly blazed in a way that barely seemed human. Finn froze, his breath catching in his throat.

When Owen finally pressed their lips together, Finn felt another jolt of electricity arc through his entire body and he gasped at the sensation. Owen’s fingers at his nape trailed delicious sparks across Finn’s skin as he licked at the seam of Finn’s mouth. Finn opened eagerly and nipped at Owen’s bottom lip. Never had a kiss made him so crazy with want. He needed to touch, wanted to crawl inside of Owen and feel him from the inside, out. But as Finn reached out a hand, Owen pulled away, his breathing every bit as labored as Finn’s.

“We’re different, Finn.” Owen licked at his lips and watched Finn’s eyes follow the tip of his tongue. “You’re different. You know that, right?”

Finn had no response. None that made any sense. Right now all he wanted was to tear at Owen’s clothes and taste every last inch of the man. But for some reason, Owen had put on the brakes and wanted to discuss—what, exactly? Finn was at a loss. And his dick could have cut glass.

“The woman in the grocery store. You mentioned that wasn’t the first time you’d seen her, right?”

“Right.” Finn’s voiced faltered slightly. Not sure where Owen was going with this, he gestured for him to continue.

“I think she saw you for what you are.”

“And what exactly is that?” Finn asked, not sure he wanted an answer.

“You’re a witch, Finn.”

Owen’s face was so serious, so earnest, Finn almost believed him for a split second.

Almost.

He threw his head back and laughed uproariously. He laughed so hard, he could feel tears well up in his eyes. Well that’s an effective way to kill an erection.

But Owen’s expression hadn’t changed an iota. He simply sat and stared at Finn.

“Are you—oh, god, you’re serious aren’t you?”

Dammit! He knew there was a reason he’d established his dating embargo. He certainly could attract the crazies.

About the Author:

L.D. Blakeley is a pragmatist with a romantic soul & a dirty mind. She loves horror movies, hot sex, and happily ever afters. She’s easily distracted by shiny things, and is a slightly neurotic, highly ambitious dreamer who enjoys dabbling in photography & pretending she can carry a tune.

In another life, L.D. was a newspaper reporter, an entertainment & music writer, travel writer, website content editor, and a marketing shill. Now she prefers to spend her time writing hot, steamy fiction (with a healthy dose of romance) about intriguing, sexy men. Although she dreams of living some place isolated with an endless supply of wine and an infinite number of titles on her eReader, she currently lives in downtown Toronto with her husband and their rock star cat.

Find L.D. online:

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Cover Reveal: Shadow Walker by Anya J. Cosgrove #PNR #CoverReveal #witches #demons @anyajcosgrove

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Shadow Walker
Anya J. Cosgrove
(Bloody Hearts, #1)
Publication date: January 17th 2019
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

A newborn witch is hunted for her blood. Two brothers, heirs to a demon dynasty, teach her how to survive. A dark enemy closes in…

Alana is new at being a witch, and she sucks at it. Healing, telepathy, seeing through illusions… she can’t master any of it. She tries martial arts but sparring with the six-foot-three muscular Walker brothers does nothing to help her focus. Alana’s not about to let herself fall for a man—or a demon—especially not the ones that abducted her in an attempt to save her life.

When a bitter demon learns of Alana’s existence, he’ll stop at nothing to possess her and drive a wedge between the two brothers. If Alana can’t learn to use her powers, she’ll die. If she can’t discern illusion from reality, she’ll lose her mind.

Nothing stays black and white in a world full of shadows.

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Author Bio:

Anya J Cosgrove lives in Québec with her husband, her beautiful son, and two mischievous cats. She works as a veterinarian by day. She’s a travel and Disney junkie and is passionate about her favorite paranormal series.

What would Buffy do? Kick ass!

Read it first! http://bit.ly/anyaslair

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SPOTLIGHT: Malediction

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It’s witchcraft…

Nestled in the shadowy thoroughfares of Salem, Bridget has created a new life for herself. Saved from the noose by the mysterious Mr. Black during the witch trials, she runs Broomstix, a thriving curse worker and hex shop. Dangerous cravings thrust her back in harm’s way as evil stalks the streets. Will the allure of the forbidden be her curse or her salvation?

Alistair is a wolf caught between desire and duty to his pack. His Alpha goes missing and evidence of arcane magic and murder come a little too close to home. A chance encounter at a Halloween party brings his beast to the forefront and one night of passion leaves him wanting much, much more.

A war is brewing in Salem between the wolves and witch kind. When more deaths are found linked to rogue wolves, the two join forces. But wild magic reigns on Samhain and the moon may just have a mind of her own…

 

Tags: shifter romance, witches, Salem, wolves, demons, angels, curses, Halloween

99 cents for a limited time!

Curse Worker Series:

  1. Sanguine Shadows (Fenris and Mari) Amazon Smart URL: http://hyperurl.co/SSCw1
  2. Map of Bones
  3. Malediction
  4. Arcane (coming soon in the Prowlers and Growlers box set!) Amazon Smart URL: http://hyperurl.co/PnGBs
  5. Wild Magic (Fenris and Mari) coming soon

Buy link:

Amazon: http://rxe.me/7FPHRI

Excerpt from Malediction by Erzabet Bishop

Alistair spotted the gorgeous brunette across the room and, when she approached the refreshment table, he followed. For a millisecond he’d taken her for the scrawny woman in the red dress, but on closer inspection he was pleased to note the differences. Same dress, but the way this woman wore it, he was tempted to peel it from her, inch by scrumptious inch.

His pack mate had poured a few bottles of something into the punch and, while it was entertaining to watch some of the guests succumb to the antics of the season, he didn’t quite feel the same about the sexy female in front of him. This woman would be far more interesting sober, he had a hunch and his predictions usually turned out to be spot on. The markings on her arms intrigued him and he wondered if they covered more of her body. Like tendrils of smoke curling around her flesh, they spiraled around her skin in an unending pattern, giving him the urge to trace every single one and see where it led.

He should be home at Briarwood, but his duties as Beta brought him here to make sure Jessup didn’t get too out of hand. So far the pup had been a bit mischievous, but nothing that would make him worry. Whatever concerns he had melted when he gazed at the beauty in front of him, his animal taking control.

Serious gray eyes winked at him from behind an elegant lacy black mask and he had the urge to peek beneath it to see what she was hiding. Full lips bowed below the mask, and her mass of dark hair was wound into an up-do that he longed to plunge his fingers into while he explored her mouth with his.

Jesus, Alastair. Get a grip.

His wolf perked up when she’d come into view and his instinct to bed her followed in quick succession. He shook it off with a frown. One night stands were not his style, especially with women he didn’t know. He had other concerns and, as soon as he made sure Jessup wasn’t going to fuck up and intoxicate half of the wealthier citizens of Salem, he was out of here. Duncan was still missing and he’d left Laurel in charge in his stead.

But, her eyes. Fuck. They fairly glowed with a power that socked him in the gut as they watched him from behind the mask. When she wet her lips and took her bottom lip between her teeth, he almost lost the battle with himself not to let his beast take over and drag her into the nearest coat closet.

“Are you here with someone?” He cleared his throat, aware of the growl threading through his voice.

“No. Are you?”

“Just a couple of friends. What do you think? Want to end up in a compromising situation with a stranger?” He grinned and, seeing Jessup approach, steered her away from the refreshment table. Alistair wanted her to himself, at least for a little while.

“Seven deadly sins? How about a dance? With my footwork, that could lead towards all kinds of infractions.”

“Hmm.” He swung her into his arms and into the crowd, relishing the sensation of his hand on her lower back. The plunging view offered by her bodice made his body stand at attention and the wolf beneath his skin whined with want. “So, which deadly sin could you possibly have that would sink a guy faster than lust? That dress…”

“These shoes.”

“Oh, but those… those are not a sin. Not at all. In fact, I could look at them all night long.”

“You could, could you?” The woman laughed, deep and sensual. Her eyes snapped with amusement. “Then you try wearing them.”

“Maybe I will.” He wanted her, and the closer they got, the more obvious it was going to become. He weaved her around the dance floor, her movements matching his. Her perfume and the spicy scent of her hair were making it hard to concentrate. At the look in her eyes, he dragged her back hard against him, his animal wild in his blood.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“Please.”

“Let’s get some air.” Alistair led her out onto the balcony, the twinkle lights flickered making the grounds outside the hotel look enchanted. He had to clear his head.

“Who are you?” Alistair brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

“I’m just a girl who needs an escape from reality. How about you?”

“Same here.”

“Just a girl, huh?” The mystery woman smiled.

He gathered her into his arms, letting her feel the full force of his arousal. “I don’t know. I’m not feeling much like a girl right now.”

“No. I didn’t think you were.” She leaned into his embrace, her lips curving up in an inviting smile.

“What’s your name?”

“Bridget. Yours?”

“Alistair.”

“Well, Alistair. It’s nice to meet you. I have one question.”

“What’s that?”

“How long is it going to take for you to kiss me?”

“Time me.” Alistair’s mouth covered hers hungrily and he forced her mouth open with his thrusting tongue. She gasped, trembling within his embrace and he pulled her deeper into the shadows, away from prying eyes.

About the author:

Erzabet Bishop is an award-winning and international bestselling author who loves to write naughty stories. She is the author of Lipstick, Crave, Snow (Three Times More Lucky Box Set), Malediction, Map of Bones, Sanguine Shadows,  Arcane (Prowlers and Growlers set),The Science of Lust, Wicked for You, Heart’s Protector, Burning for You, Taming the Beast, Mistletoe Kisses, Surrender, Torment (upcoming), Hedging Her Bets, Cat’s Got Her Tongue (Alpha Heat Box Set), Arcane Imaginarium: Spirit Board, Holidays in Hell, Mallory’s Mark (upcoming),The Devil’s Due (upcoming), Charity Benshaw’s Enchanted Paddle Emporium (upcoming), Club Beam, Pomegranate, A Red Dress for Christmas, The Black Magic Café, Sweet Seductions, The Erotic Pagans Series: Beltane Fires, Samhain Shadows and Yuletide Temptation along with being a contributor to many anthologies. She lives in Texas with her husband, furry children and can often be found lurking in local bookstores. She loves to bake, make naughty crochet projects and watch monster movies.

Follow her on Twitter @erzabetbishop.

Links:

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

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/erzabet-bishop

Google +: https://goo.gl/YJnNmd

Website: http://erzabetwrites.wix.com/erzabetbishop

Facebook “like” page: https://www.facebook.com/erzabetbishopauthor

Amazon author page:http://www.amazon.com/Erzabet-Bishop/e/B00AVSDUBC/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_7

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6590718.Erzabet_Bishop

Street team: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1018269998190112/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/erzabet.bishop