Julie Elizabeth Powell's Blog, page 55
October 19, 2016
SHADOW CROSSED Box Set
SHADOW CROSSED
2016 Halloween Collection
Genre: Paranormal
Due to mature content, situations and language, this collection is recommended for audiences 18+. Some stories are written in American, some in Canadian, Australian, and some in British English. The authors have chosen to stay true to their heritage.
Due to mature content, situations and language, this collection is recommended for audiences 18+. Some stories are written in American, some in Canadian, Australian, and some in British English. The authors have chosen to stay true to their heritage.
SHADOW CROSSED is a magnificent collection of dark paranormal books, some full-length novels, some short enough to read in one sitting, all deep enough to make you think, What if…? Every single compelling story was hand-picked for your enjoyment. 10 worlds to make your own, 10 thrilling adventures, 10 new sets of best friends. The perfect companion for late nights on the sofa, the perfect gift to those who enjoy a good read. Add it to your favorite kindle with one click now.
This box set includes a mix of already released and totally new novels and novellas, all complete works. Those books which are part of a series can be enjoyed fully without the need to read the complete series (though there is a chance you might develop story-addiction issues—for that, we apologize).
Paradox - The Angels Are Here — Patti Roberts
A story about a little girl trapped between two worlds - The Ancient, and the New - Love destroys... Angels fall... Darkness follows... Is your Guardian Angel from Heaven or Hell?
Long ago, in an almost forgotten Realm, a race of fallen Angels called the Grigori clash with a ruling house of Angels - the Bulguardi. Their battle changed events in the Ancient World and the New World forever. A Realm where a year can last centuries and an Ancient magical people still rule, even the immortals face danger. Rising up from their imprisonment underground on Altair, evil has returned and the Grigori are on a destructive path of revenge. When their preferred food source becomes scarce, Earth, a world teaming with humans, becomes their target.
Trapped in the middle between the old world and the new, a little girl cursed with horrific visions from the past. From an Ancient world to the new world on Earth, this is a tale of myth and legend, mayhem and magic, birth and death. A tale of families torn apart, souls searching for lost loves, and evil is walking out of the shadows. You can run, but you cannot run forever.
Over the centuries, from the time before time, the Grigori were called many things. In Greece, they called them, Vrykolakas. In Romania, Strigoi. In earlier times, there were others. Other blood-sucking demons, that preyed on the innocent. In ancient Babylonia, it was Lilitu and her sistren, who instilled fear among the Babylonians. In the new world, they would go by another name. Vampire.
A world that defies logic and reason. A world that may very well be true: Paradox – The Angels Are Here.
A story that will indeed leave you asking... Who, When, Where? WHAT!
My name is Juliette. Nine hundred years ago, I died. Today, I am alive... This is my story. Paradox - The Angels Are Here.
13 — Julie Elizabeth Powell
What is found within the depths of the human soul? Does wickedness linger, as if the Devil’s thumb is ready to pluck the strings of certain choices? And with the strumming, just how far will Evil spread?
13 is the story of random souls pitted against the tragedy of the modern world. What is their connection, if any? Nameless; are these mere humans whose weaknesses force them to commit heinous crimes, or demons under the skin, aware of their sins yet indifferent to the outcome?
Will they decipher the unknown and make it out alive?
Who is watching, what is the end?
Stilton's Antiques — Bruce Blake
The antique porcelain doll was the last thing Janice's estranged husband bought for the antiques store before he deserted her and their daughter Emily. As life as she knew it dissolves bit by bit, Janice realizes extravagant purchases like the doll may mean the end of Stilton's Antiques. She doesn't realize, however, that this particular doll could mean the end of everything.
Missing Pieces — Tiffany Flowers
Gabby survives her ex-boyfriend's brutal attack, only to be ripped away from her life by a complete stranger. She is thrown into the world of Immortals, where every nightmare out there exists and walks free. She can't deny her attraction to this stranger, Neeko, but he must earn her trust before she will ever let him into her heart. Can she learn to love again? Will love be enough, or will everything come crashing down?
Neeko sees Gabby and immediately knows she is someone special. He makes a rash decision to kidnap her, because he can't stop thinking about her. Now he must somehow prove to her that she is his mate and his soul's other half. How can he have a human for a mate? Can he keep her safe from Demons? Or is he her biggest threat?
When the missing pieces fall into place to reveal all their secrets, will they stand together or apart?
Hell's Gift — K.S. Haigwood
Depression consumes the guardian angel, Rhyan, after his human charge chooses her soulmate over him. Filled with anger and despair, he lashes out. And when his hate-filled words land him neck-deep in Hell, he realizes he's gone too far. He expects trouble, but not to discover his own soulmate in the fiery depths. Abigail is there with good reason, but she's done her time, and in order to save them both, Rhyan must strike a deal with the Devil. The stakes are higher than ever before, with his soul, his friends and even the fate of Heaven and Earth in jeopardy. If he fails, Rhyan stands to lose more than he ever feared. Will true love be denied? It will take everything he's got to break down the traps Lucifer puts in his way. New lines are drawn and old scores are settled, and Rhyan is in for the fight of his life. With Abigail as the prize, and humanity in the balance, he will stop at nothing to claim...Hell's Gift.
On Unfaithful Wings — Bruce Blake
To some, death is the end; to others, a beginning. To Icarus Fell, it should have been a relief from a life gone seriously awry.
But death had other plans.
Icarus doesn't believe that the man awaiting him when he wakes up in a cheap motel room is really the archangel Michael, or that God's right hand wants him to help souls on their way to Heaven. Icarus doesn't believe there's a Heaven, so why should they want his help?
But the man claiming to be the archangel tempts him with an offer he can't ignore--harvest enough souls and get back the life he wished he'd had.
It seems Icarus has nothing to lose, until he botches a harvest and the soul that went to Hell instead of Heaven comes back to make him pay by threatening to take away the life he hoped to win back.
To save the wife and son he already lost once, Icarus will have to become the man he never was. Somehow, he will have to learn to believe.
The Puzzling Brain Of Martha Tidberry — Julie Elizabeth Powell
Martha Tidberry grew up knowing she was different.
But that difference was far from what anyone could imagine.
Even herself; in the beginning.
What was she to do with that puzzling brain of hers?
Except believe in the impossibility of the possible.
The Fairwinds Saga: The Haunting — Stephanie Nett & Marty Wilcox
Inheriting an estate which has been passed down from generation to generation, Adele Boelen couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling her life was about to change. On a whim, after leaving the estate attorney’s office, she and her boyfriend, Clay, venture out to Fairwinds Manor and soon find themselves at odd with each other. Adele is drawn to a mysterious entity, her own body betraying her at the very sound of his voice.
“I’m yours.”
The way he touches her leaves her craving more and soon, the mere thought of leaving sends her into a panic.
“You’re mine.”
Lines will be drawn as what lies in the manor takes control, growing stronger with each passing second.
“Forever.”
But there’s more to him than meets the eye. Deception, passion, and rage explode, tearing apart the once happy couple. Adele belongs to the manor now and what lies inside. And he won’t be letting her go that easily.
Another Man's Shoes — Bruce Blake
Jake thought his day was going badly when he was the only person who saw the man fall in front of the subway train. When it turns out he's being stalked at every turn, he has to wonder if there is any connection between the person stalking him and the man who walked away from being hit by a train. And what does it all have to do with him?
The Box That Jane Built — Julie Elizabeth Powell
The Box That Jane Built is a short story from a collection called, Figments, however, deserves a starring role.
Who is Jane and what does she want from Jack? Will she get it or will everyone die?
Outside the Box:
The Back Of My Hand
To what lengths will a person go when age attacks?
The Audition
Over-confident, he’s sure he’ll get the job, but what exactly is it?
My Imaginary Friend
How can Amy prove her innocence?
***
Four stories to chill the blood, unless you already have ice in your veins?
MoB Promotions
This box set includes a mix of already released and totally new novels and novellas, all complete works. Those books which are part of a series can be enjoyed fully without the need to read the complete series (though there is a chance you might develop story-addiction issues—for that, we apologize).
Paradox - The Angels Are Here — Patti RobertsA story about a little girl trapped between two worlds - The Ancient, and the New - Love destroys... Angels fall... Darkness follows... Is your Guardian Angel from Heaven or Hell?
Long ago, in an almost forgotten Realm, a race of fallen Angels called the Grigori clash with a ruling house of Angels - the Bulguardi. Their battle changed events in the Ancient World and the New World forever. A Realm where a year can last centuries and an Ancient magical people still rule, even the immortals face danger. Rising up from their imprisonment underground on Altair, evil has returned and the Grigori are on a destructive path of revenge. When their preferred food source becomes scarce, Earth, a world teaming with humans, becomes their target.
Trapped in the middle between the old world and the new, a little girl cursed with horrific visions from the past. From an Ancient world to the new world on Earth, this is a tale of myth and legend, mayhem and magic, birth and death. A tale of families torn apart, souls searching for lost loves, and evil is walking out of the shadows. You can run, but you cannot run forever.
Over the centuries, from the time before time, the Grigori were called many things. In Greece, they called them, Vrykolakas. In Romania, Strigoi. In earlier times, there were others. Other blood-sucking demons, that preyed on the innocent. In ancient Babylonia, it was Lilitu and her sistren, who instilled fear among the Babylonians. In the new world, they would go by another name. Vampire.
A world that defies logic and reason. A world that may very well be true: Paradox – The Angels Are Here.
A story that will indeed leave you asking... Who, When, Where? WHAT!
My name is Juliette. Nine hundred years ago, I died. Today, I am alive... This is my story. Paradox - The Angels Are Here.
13 — Julie Elizabeth PowellWhat is found within the depths of the human soul? Does wickedness linger, as if the Devil’s thumb is ready to pluck the strings of certain choices? And with the strumming, just how far will Evil spread?
13 is the story of random souls pitted against the tragedy of the modern world. What is their connection, if any? Nameless; are these mere humans whose weaknesses force them to commit heinous crimes, or demons under the skin, aware of their sins yet indifferent to the outcome?
Will they decipher the unknown and make it out alive?
Who is watching, what is the end?
Stilton's Antiques — Bruce BlakeThe antique porcelain doll was the last thing Janice's estranged husband bought for the antiques store before he deserted her and their daughter Emily. As life as she knew it dissolves bit by bit, Janice realizes extravagant purchases like the doll may mean the end of Stilton's Antiques. She doesn't realize, however, that this particular doll could mean the end of everything.
Missing Pieces — Tiffany FlowersGabby survives her ex-boyfriend's brutal attack, only to be ripped away from her life by a complete stranger. She is thrown into the world of Immortals, where every nightmare out there exists and walks free. She can't deny her attraction to this stranger, Neeko, but he must earn her trust before she will ever let him into her heart. Can she learn to love again? Will love be enough, or will everything come crashing down?
Neeko sees Gabby and immediately knows she is someone special. He makes a rash decision to kidnap her, because he can't stop thinking about her. Now he must somehow prove to her that she is his mate and his soul's other half. How can he have a human for a mate? Can he keep her safe from Demons? Or is he her biggest threat?
When the missing pieces fall into place to reveal all their secrets, will they stand together or apart?
Hell's Gift — K.S. HaigwoodDepression consumes the guardian angel, Rhyan, after his human charge chooses her soulmate over him. Filled with anger and despair, he lashes out. And when his hate-filled words land him neck-deep in Hell, he realizes he's gone too far. He expects trouble, but not to discover his own soulmate in the fiery depths. Abigail is there with good reason, but she's done her time, and in order to save them both, Rhyan must strike a deal with the Devil. The stakes are higher than ever before, with his soul, his friends and even the fate of Heaven and Earth in jeopardy. If he fails, Rhyan stands to lose more than he ever feared. Will true love be denied? It will take everything he's got to break down the traps Lucifer puts in his way. New lines are drawn and old scores are settled, and Rhyan is in for the fight of his life. With Abigail as the prize, and humanity in the balance, he will stop at nothing to claim...Hell's Gift.
On Unfaithful Wings — Bruce BlakeTo some, death is the end; to others, a beginning. To Icarus Fell, it should have been a relief from a life gone seriously awry.
But death had other plans.
Icarus doesn't believe that the man awaiting him when he wakes up in a cheap motel room is really the archangel Michael, or that God's right hand wants him to help souls on their way to Heaven. Icarus doesn't believe there's a Heaven, so why should they want his help?
But the man claiming to be the archangel tempts him with an offer he can't ignore--harvest enough souls and get back the life he wished he'd had.
It seems Icarus has nothing to lose, until he botches a harvest and the soul that went to Hell instead of Heaven comes back to make him pay by threatening to take away the life he hoped to win back.
To save the wife and son he already lost once, Icarus will have to become the man he never was. Somehow, he will have to learn to believe.
The Puzzling Brain Of Martha Tidberry — Julie Elizabeth PowellMartha Tidberry grew up knowing she was different.
But that difference was far from what anyone could imagine.
Even herself; in the beginning.
What was she to do with that puzzling brain of hers?
Except believe in the impossibility of the possible.
The Fairwinds Saga: The Haunting — Stephanie Nett & Marty WilcoxInheriting an estate which has been passed down from generation to generation, Adele Boelen couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling her life was about to change. On a whim, after leaving the estate attorney’s office, she and her boyfriend, Clay, venture out to Fairwinds Manor and soon find themselves at odd with each other. Adele is drawn to a mysterious entity, her own body betraying her at the very sound of his voice.
“I’m yours.”
The way he touches her leaves her craving more and soon, the mere thought of leaving sends her into a panic.
“You’re mine.”
Lines will be drawn as what lies in the manor takes control, growing stronger with each passing second.
“Forever.”
But there’s more to him than meets the eye. Deception, passion, and rage explode, tearing apart the once happy couple. Adele belongs to the manor now and what lies inside. And he won’t be letting her go that easily.
Another Man's Shoes — Bruce BlakeJake thought his day was going badly when he was the only person who saw the man fall in front of the subway train. When it turns out he's being stalked at every turn, he has to wonder if there is any connection between the person stalking him and the man who walked away from being hit by a train. And what does it all have to do with him?
The Box That Jane Built — Julie Elizabeth PowellThe Box That Jane Built is a short story from a collection called, Figments, however, deserves a starring role.
Who is Jane and what does she want from Jack? Will she get it or will everyone die?
Outside the Box:
The Back Of My Hand
To what lengths will a person go when age attacks?
The Audition
Over-confident, he’s sure he’ll get the job, but what exactly is it?
My Imaginary Friend
How can Amy prove her innocence?
***
Four stories to chill the blood, unless you already have ice in your veins?
Patti Roberts was born in Brisbane, Australia, but soon moved to Darwin in the Northern Territory with her parents and two sisters. Her son Luke was born in Darwin in 1980. Although Patti now lives in Cairns, Queensland, she still considers Darwin her hometown.
When Patti is not writing, she is busy pursuing her other passion, which is designing book covers and formatting for other authors.
When Patti is not writing, she is busy pursuing her other passion, which is designing book covers and formatting for other authors.
I cannot ignore my dreams, so many of them, with names and places and ideas that spark my imagination and compel me to write; to create stories, whether fantasy or horror, or mystery or psychological thriller or murder or even humour and adventure. So, my garden is sown, flourishing, with all manner of growth, and still the dreams come.
Julie Elizabeth Powell, my soul lingering within my imagination; maybe you'll join me?
Julie Elizabeth Powell, my soul lingering within my imagination; maybe you'll join me?
Bruce Blake lives on Vancouver Island in British Columbia, Canada. When pressing issues like shovelling snow and building igloos don't take up his spare time, Bruce can be found taking the dog sled to the nearest coffee shop to work on his short stories and novels.
Actually, Victoria, B.C. is only a couple hours north of Seattle, Wash., where more rain is seen than snow. Since snow isn't really a pressing issue, Bruce spends more time trying to remember to leave the "u" out of words like "colour" and "neighbour" than he does shovelling (and watch out for those pesky double l's). The father of two, Bruce is also the trophy husband of a burlesque diva.
Actually, Victoria, B.C. is only a couple hours north of Seattle, Wash., where more rain is seen than snow. Since snow isn't really a pressing issue, Bruce spends more time trying to remember to leave the "u" out of words like "colour" and "neighbour" than he does shovelling (and watch out for those pesky double l's). The father of two, Bruce is also the trophy husband of a burlesque diva.
Tiffany Flowers was born and raised in a small town in Alabama. She was always caught reading and jotting down little ideas. Now all grown up she lives a town over from where she was born. She lives with her husband and three kids. You will still catch her reading, but now she turns those ideas into novels.
K. S. Haigwood is the author of the Save My Soul, Eternal Island and Moonrising series. By day, she is a CNC Machinist, but by night and weekend, she saves the world or destroys it in a single bound, depending on what mood she is in and if she has had her coffee. In addition to being an award winner for the 'Life Changing Read Award', she has also been nominated twice for Best Indie Book 2016 in the Paranormal category.
Characterization is one of K.S. Haigwood’s strongest points. You can understand each characters' predicaments and you can almost foresee their reactions. But. There’s always a but, with this author, because Haigwood can deliver enough twists and turns to turn a tornado on its head. Just as you think you’ve figured where the story is going next, she’s duped you again.
The whole of her novels are littered with good chuckle moments, and even in the darkest hour, the thinnest hint of a silver lining is still visible among the clouds.
Shock therapy for body and soul, delivered at a hundred miles an hour with the humor and charisma of a trendsetter, Haigwood is certain to be hailed the new wonder-drug to cure all ills.
Characterization is one of K.S. Haigwood’s strongest points. You can understand each characters' predicaments and you can almost foresee their reactions. But. There’s always a but, with this author, because Haigwood can deliver enough twists and turns to turn a tornado on its head. Just as you think you’ve figured where the story is going next, she’s duped you again.
The whole of her novels are littered with good chuckle moments, and even in the darkest hour, the thinnest hint of a silver lining is still visible among the clouds.
Shock therapy for body and soul, delivered at a hundred miles an hour with the humor and charisma of a trendsetter, Haigwood is certain to be hailed the new wonder-drug to cure all ills.
Follower of dreams. Lover of the written word. Stephanie Nett puts her imagination to good use not only as a writer but as a mother. From princesses to kittens, from Lego police cars to video games, life is a neverending adventure. Dreams, and nightmares, lead to new fictional characters driven by their emotions trying to find their place in this world.
Marty Wilcox Hello and welcome to my world of writing, herding cats and trying to work a few hours a week to support my cat "habit". I was born and raised in Anderson Indiana. Where is that, you may ask? Once home to the headquarters of Guide Lamp and Delco Remy. Still home to the fastest quarter mile track in the country!
MoB Promotions
TREASURED LEGACY by Holly Barbo
TREASURED LEGACY
Quick Reads Book 6
by Holly Barbo
GENRE: Suspense Quick Read
With dwindling time, Leone uses the last of her strength to share important family history with her only living relative: her grandson David. Despite her final request to not sell the family heirlooms, David and Anne look into it because of their desperate need for money. But the pieces have secrets and the young couple finds themselves in unexpected danger.
The old woman pulled the warm shawl around her shoulders with frail, liver-spotted hands. Reaching for her cup of tea, she took a sip. The cup rattled in the saucer as she set it down on the side table and looked up at the young man who was setting up the small electronic device.
“Thank you for doing this for me, David. You are the last of my family and I wanted you to know about your history and ancestry.”
He smiled and tucked the colorful afghan over the elder’s lap and feet. “Are you comfortable, Grandmother?”
At her nod, he sat near the video camera and raised his hand to float above it. “Let me know when you’re ready.”
Her faded eyes twinkled. “Start it. I have stories to share, and there isn’t much time on my end.”
With a wink, his finger brushed the start button and he sat back to listen.
“Our family has several heritages. Thirty years before the terror of the French Revolution, a talented gypsy silver smith named Silas Rose married a daughter of a Jewish jeweler named Boehmer. In the next twenty-five years, the two worked together and gained fame for the remarkably skilled pieces they crafted. Their work came to the attention of Louis XVI and later of Marie Antoinette. It was an unfortunate situation. A very expensive necklace had been commissioned…”
***
The bell above the door tinkled as the young man entered the ornate jewelry shop. An old gentleman stepped out from the back, his face breaking into a grin at the sight of his visitor. “Valentine! It is good to see you! Come in and tell me of your journey. Are Silas and Rebecca with you?”
The dark-haired youth shook his head, his expression solemn. “Is it time to close the shop for the day, Grandfather? I have much to share with you.”
For a long moment, the grey-haired man studied his grandson’s face. “Lock the door and pull the curtains. I’ll get the wine out of the cellar.”
Turning from his task of securing and barring the door, Valentine called over his shoulder, “I brought whiskey. Just get the glasses.”
Taking his bottle to the workroom, he helped his grandfather, Antoine Boehmer, to put away several partially completed projects into the safe. They finally settled in some chairs by the fireplace. Valentine poured two glasses and passed one to the older gentleman.
“No one wants to buy that necklace. They think it’s cursed. First there is the taint of King Louis XV commissioning the piece for Madame du Barry but dying before he could pay for it. Add to that Marie Antoinette refusing it…twice.” The young man shook his head. “The fiasco and scandal with the cardinal and Jeanne de la Motte has sealed the issue. No one will touch it. Father was able to sell several of the stones to jewelers in Amsterdam and that netted 1,000,000 livres. It doesn’t pay for your craftsmanship but it compensates us for the stones.” He handed over the packet of remaining gems and money.
“You traveled the roads of France and the streets of Paris carrying this? Mon Dieu! You could have had your throat slit! This is a king’s ransom for ninety percent of the people!”
“I was with Mother and Father on the ship. I left them in Le Havre as neither were feeling well. They urged me to see you right away. I was also eager to return to Jaelle before she gives birth.” He gestured to his travel-stained appearance. “I purposely didn’t clean up and wore my oldest clothing.” Valentine stood and looking down at his soiled presentation, made a grimace of disgust. “I need to stop and bathe, then it is off for home.”
“I’ll have Margaux prepare a bath for you. While you are waiting I must show you some special pieces of furniture that were made for me. Jean Henri, a German fellow named Roentgen and I collaborated on their design. Jean wanted to gild everything like his pieces in Versailles, but I talked him down to using beautiful marquetry instead…”
“Thank you for doing this for me, David. You are the last of my family and I wanted you to know about your history and ancestry.”
He smiled and tucked the colorful afghan over the elder’s lap and feet. “Are you comfortable, Grandmother?”
At her nod, he sat near the video camera and raised his hand to float above it. “Let me know when you’re ready.”
Her faded eyes twinkled. “Start it. I have stories to share, and there isn’t much time on my end.”
With a wink, his finger brushed the start button and he sat back to listen.
“Our family has several heritages. Thirty years before the terror of the French Revolution, a talented gypsy silver smith named Silas Rose married a daughter of a Jewish jeweler named Boehmer. In the next twenty-five years, the two worked together and gained fame for the remarkably skilled pieces they crafted. Their work came to the attention of Louis XVI and later of Marie Antoinette. It was an unfortunate situation. A very expensive necklace had been commissioned…”
***
The bell above the door tinkled as the young man entered the ornate jewelry shop. An old gentleman stepped out from the back, his face breaking into a grin at the sight of his visitor. “Valentine! It is good to see you! Come in and tell me of your journey. Are Silas and Rebecca with you?”
The dark-haired youth shook his head, his expression solemn. “Is it time to close the shop for the day, Grandfather? I have much to share with you.”
For a long moment, the grey-haired man studied his grandson’s face. “Lock the door and pull the curtains. I’ll get the wine out of the cellar.”
Turning from his task of securing and barring the door, Valentine called over his shoulder, “I brought whiskey. Just get the glasses.”
Taking his bottle to the workroom, he helped his grandfather, Antoine Boehmer, to put away several partially completed projects into the safe. They finally settled in some chairs by the fireplace. Valentine poured two glasses and passed one to the older gentleman.
“No one wants to buy that necklace. They think it’s cursed. First there is the taint of King Louis XV commissioning the piece for Madame du Barry but dying before he could pay for it. Add to that Marie Antoinette refusing it…twice.” The young man shook his head. “The fiasco and scandal with the cardinal and Jeanne de la Motte has sealed the issue. No one will touch it. Father was able to sell several of the stones to jewelers in Amsterdam and that netted 1,000,000 livres. It doesn’t pay for your craftsmanship but it compensates us for the stones.” He handed over the packet of remaining gems and money.
“You traveled the roads of France and the streets of Paris carrying this? Mon Dieu! You could have had your throat slit! This is a king’s ransom for ninety percent of the people!”
“I was with Mother and Father on the ship. I left them in Le Havre as neither were feeling well. They urged me to see you right away. I was also eager to return to Jaelle before she gives birth.” He gestured to his travel-stained appearance. “I purposely didn’t clean up and wore my oldest clothing.” Valentine stood and looking down at his soiled presentation, made a grimace of disgust. “I need to stop and bathe, then it is off for home.”
“I’ll have Margaux prepare a bath for you. While you are waiting I must show you some special pieces of furniture that were made for me. Jean Henri, a German fellow named Roentgen and I collaborated on their design. Jean wanted to gild everything like his pieces in Versailles, but I talked him down to using beautiful marquetry instead…”
A Beltane Gift ✯ The Tin of Honey ✯ The Dragil: Broken Magic ✯ The Battered Ball ✯ Binding Contracts
When Chayse’s friend is murdered before he can get protective custody, she and her department in Homeland Security are thrust into a race to stop a destructive cyber worm from wiping out all bank and stock market records during the Christmas break.The good news is there is an inoculating code which will stop the worm. The bad news is it is hidden in a special crystal concealed in the sculpted walls of a beautiful ice hotel in the lapland region of Sweden and the terrorists are searching for it too.
As the snow flurries of November becomes frozen December each side rush to find the crystal…with entirely different goals. Will the Christmas holiday bring destruction for western financial systems?
A Crystal Snowflake is a contemporary thriller. It has been previously published in Tendrils, The Edge of Madness boxed set and Wrapped with a Bow boxed set. It was also entered in a story competition seeking cinematic quality stories for movie potential, and made the quarter finals.
Holly's world is shaped by her love of family, the beauty of the natural world and an irrepressible creative drive. She has always been curious and sees life through questions. These four characteristics color her writing voice and her stories frequently evolve from her asking "What if....?" Her tales tend to have non-urban settings with nature contributing to the plot, building discordant themes inside a seemingly peaceful refrain.Her motto: Weaving Alternative Worlds with Threads From Today.
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MoB Promotions
Surviving the Summit of Good & Evil by Christine Wall
DARK BREW
by Diana Rubino
Two months in the spotlight change Kylah McKinley’s life forever. Falsely accused of murdering her husband Ted, she learns through past life regressions that she’s the reincarnation of Alice Kyteler, a Druid who lived in 14th century Ireland. Major events in her life parallel Alice’s.
Someone tried to kill Kylah along with Ted in a hit-and-run. Who can hate them both this much? Her journeys to the past as Alice give her the answer.
As Kylah’s trial date approaches and she fights to maintain her innocence, she must learn from her past or forever be doomed to repeat it.
Someone tried to kill Kylah along with Ted in a hit-and-run. Who can hate them both this much? Her journeys to the past as Alice give her the answer.
As Kylah’s trial date approaches and she fights to maintain her innocence, she must learn from her past or forever be doomed to repeat it.
Kylah shut Ted’s den door. She couldn’t bear to look at the spot where he gasped his last breath. His presence, an imposing force, lingered. So did his scent, a blend of tobacco, pine aftershave and manly sweat. Each reminder ripped into her heart like a knife. Especially now with the funeral looming ahead, the eulogies, the mournful organ hymns, the tolling bells . . .
These ceremonies should bring closure, but they’d only prolong the agony of her grief. She wanted to remember him alive for a while longer, wishing she could delay these morbid customs until the hurt subsided.
Throughout the house, his essence echoed his personality: the wine stain on the carpet, the heap of dirty shirts, shorts and socks piled up in the laundry room, the spattered stove, his fingerprints on the microwave. But she couldn’t bring herself to clean any of it up. Painful as these remnants were, they offered a strange comfort. He still lived here.
“I’ll find that murderer, Teddy,” she promised him over and over, wandering from room to empty room, traces of him lurking in every corner. “I’ll do everything in my power to make sure justice is served. Another past life regression isn’t enough anymore. I know what I have to do now. And I promise, it will never, ever happen again—in any future life.”
She inhaled deeply and breathed him in. “Go take a shower, Teddy.” She chuckled through her tears as the doorbell rang. She cringed, breaking out in cold sweat when she saw the black sedan at the curb.
“Not again.” No sense in hiding, so she let the detectives in.
“Mrs. McKinley, we need your permission to do a search and take some of your husband’s possessions from the house,” Nolan said.
“What for?” She met his steely stare. “I looked everywhere and found nothing.”
“Mrs. McKinley, the cupboard door was open, four jars of herbs are missing, and the autopsy showed he died of herb poisoning. Those herbs,” Nolan added for emphasis, as if it had slipped her feeble mind. “Foxglove, mandrake, hemlock—and an as-yet unidentified one,” he read from a notebook. “The M.E. determined it was a lethal dose.”
Sherlock Holmes got nothin’ on him, she thought.
“Where’s this cupboard, ma’am?” Egan spoke up.
“Right there.” She pointed, its door gaping exactly the way she’d found it that night. Nolan went over to it and peered inside.
“Ma’am, it would be better if you left the house for a half hour or so. Please leave a number where you can be reached,” Egan ordered.
Nolan glanced down the hall. “Where is your bedroom?”
What could they want in the bedroom? “It’s at the top of the stairs on the right. But we didn’t sleep together,” she offered, as if that would faze them. It didn’t.
After giving him her cell number, she got into her car and drove to the beach.
An hour later, she let herself back in and looked around. They’d taken the computer, her case of CDs, her thumb drive, her remaining herb jars, Ted’s notebooks, and left her alone with one horrible fact: This was now a homicide case and she was the prime suspect.
These ceremonies should bring closure, but they’d only prolong the agony of her grief. She wanted to remember him alive for a while longer, wishing she could delay these morbid customs until the hurt subsided.
Throughout the house, his essence echoed his personality: the wine stain on the carpet, the heap of dirty shirts, shorts and socks piled up in the laundry room, the spattered stove, his fingerprints on the microwave. But she couldn’t bring herself to clean any of it up. Painful as these remnants were, they offered a strange comfort. He still lived here.
“I’ll find that murderer, Teddy,” she promised him over and over, wandering from room to empty room, traces of him lurking in every corner. “I’ll do everything in my power to make sure justice is served. Another past life regression isn’t enough anymore. I know what I have to do now. And I promise, it will never, ever happen again—in any future life.”
She inhaled deeply and breathed him in. “Go take a shower, Teddy.” She chuckled through her tears as the doorbell rang. She cringed, breaking out in cold sweat when she saw the black sedan at the curb.
“Not again.” No sense in hiding, so she let the detectives in.
“Mrs. McKinley, we need your permission to do a search and take some of your husband’s possessions from the house,” Nolan said.
“What for?” She met his steely stare. “I looked everywhere and found nothing.”
“Mrs. McKinley, the cupboard door was open, four jars of herbs are missing, and the autopsy showed he died of herb poisoning. Those herbs,” Nolan added for emphasis, as if it had slipped her feeble mind. “Foxglove, mandrake, hemlock—and an as-yet unidentified one,” he read from a notebook. “The M.E. determined it was a lethal dose.”
Sherlock Holmes got nothin’ on him, she thought.
“Where’s this cupboard, ma’am?” Egan spoke up.
“Right there.” She pointed, its door gaping exactly the way she’d found it that night. Nolan went over to it and peered inside.
“Ma’am, it would be better if you left the house for a half hour or so. Please leave a number where you can be reached,” Egan ordered.
Nolan glanced down the hall. “Where is your bedroom?”
What could they want in the bedroom? “It’s at the top of the stairs on the right. But we didn’t sleep together,” she offered, as if that would faze them. It didn’t.
After giving him her cell number, she got into her car and drove to the beach.
An hour later, she let herself back in and looked around. They’d taken the computer, her case of CDs, her thumb drive, her remaining herb jars, Ted’s notebooks, and left her alone with one horrible fact: This was now a homicide case and she was the prime suspect.
Diana’s passion for history and travel has taken her to every locale of her stories, set in Medieval and Renaissance England, Egypt, the Mediterranean, colonial Virginia, New England, and New York. Her urban fantasy romance, FAKIN’ IT, won a Top Pick award from Romantic Times. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, the Richard III Society and the Aaron Burr Association. She lives on Cape Cod with her husband Chris. Together they own CostPro, Inc., an engineering business. In her spare time, Diana bicycles, golfs, plays her piano and devours books of any genre.
MoB Promotions
DARK BREW by Diana Rubino
SURVIVING THE SUMMIT OF GOOD AND EVIL
by Christine Wall
Genre: Paranormal Romantic Suspense
New York Police Detective, Kate Morgan carries many secrets. The black sheep of America’s most notorious crime family, she walks a fine line between her commitment to truth and justice and the obligations demanded from her family.
FBI agent Grant Anderson, embraces his role and place in the Anderson family, America’s richest and most philanthropic example of good will and kindness. His loyalty ends however, with his family’s expectations of marrying the right girl.
For thousands of years, the Morgans and Andersons have been sworn enemies. Clans, steadfast in their loyalty and commitment as handpicked first families to the Devil and God. Both sides tread carefully, maintaining the balance between Virtue, Sin, and Immortality, enduring each other only twice a century, during the Summit of Good and Evil.
With the mysterious murder of Gus Morgan, the balance is threatened and the future of humanity in jeopardy. Treading through a minefield of treachery and deceit, Kate and Grant must solve this murder, face their attraction, and stop a family feud before all hell comes crashing down.
FBI agent Grant Anderson, embraces his role and place in the Anderson family, America’s richest and most philanthropic example of good will and kindness. His loyalty ends however, with his family’s expectations of marrying the right girl.
For thousands of years, the Morgans and Andersons have been sworn enemies. Clans, steadfast in their loyalty and commitment as handpicked first families to the Devil and God. Both sides tread carefully, maintaining the balance between Virtue, Sin, and Immortality, enduring each other only twice a century, during the Summit of Good and Evil.
With the mysterious murder of Gus Morgan, the balance is threatened and the future of humanity in jeopardy. Treading through a minefield of treachery and deceit, Kate and Grant must solve this murder, face their attraction, and stop a family feud before all hell comes crashing down.
She’d been born into the most powerful crime family in the world, but all she wanted was to protect the innocent…
The water cascaded down her body, washing away the shampoo in her hair and the lovely smelling body wash across her skin. One thing the water couldn’t wash away were her memories of the last twenty-four hours. Images of mangled and desecrated bodies filled her mind. The hard facts of her stay were burned into her memory.
Her DNA, the cells that made up her body, were infused with programming from Satan and his demons. All around her, thoughts invaded her senses—unconscious confessions of heinous acts casually tossed around, as if her relatives were planning their daily “to do” lists, like ordinary people.
Instead of picking up the kids from soccer or remembering to get milk from the store, they were hideous and grotesque. ‘Manipulate John X into thinking his wife was having an affair. He was a prime candidate for murder-suicide. Work on another insider trading tip and pin it on poor Sally J. She didn’t have the temperament to survive public humiliation and ten years in jail. Once out of the way, her family land could be sold to a developer for a hundred times its worth.’
Kate blinked back tears, trying to turn off the images in her head. On the one hand, she had an obligation to serve and protect but, on the other hand, the onslaught of thoughts were destroying her soul—one small piece at a time.
Unable to control the tears, she slid down the marble wall of the shower, knees drawn to her chest, her body racked with sobs from all of the pain, the anguish caused by her family. How could she fight that power? The family influence was everywhere. Was there anyone in the world with the ability to stop them?
The water cascaded down her body, washing away the shampoo in her hair and the lovely smelling body wash across her skin. One thing the water couldn’t wash away were her memories of the last twenty-four hours. Images of mangled and desecrated bodies filled her mind. The hard facts of her stay were burned into her memory.
Her DNA, the cells that made up her body, were infused with programming from Satan and his demons. All around her, thoughts invaded her senses—unconscious confessions of heinous acts casually tossed around, as if her relatives were planning their daily “to do” lists, like ordinary people.
Instead of picking up the kids from soccer or remembering to get milk from the store, they were hideous and grotesque. ‘Manipulate John X into thinking his wife was having an affair. He was a prime candidate for murder-suicide. Work on another insider trading tip and pin it on poor Sally J. She didn’t have the temperament to survive public humiliation and ten years in jail. Once out of the way, her family land could be sold to a developer for a hundred times its worth.’
Kate blinked back tears, trying to turn off the images in her head. On the one hand, she had an obligation to serve and protect but, on the other hand, the onslaught of thoughts were destroying her soul—one small piece at a time.
Unable to control the tears, she slid down the marble wall of the shower, knees drawn to her chest, her body racked with sobs from all of the pain, the anguish caused by her family. How could she fight that power? The family influence was everywhere. Was there anyone in the world with the ability to stop them?
Growing up with Saturday matinees filled with science fiction, adventure and excitement led Christine to want to write compelling universes for others to explore. In her debut novel, The Fog, she combines her love of science fiction and romance in a time not so far away.Born in Winnipeg, Canada, Christine is an author, screenwriter, and actress and splits her time between Toronto and Vancouver. Her love of storytelling has led her to Hollywood with her success in screenplay contests and a decent ranking in the Nicholl Fellowships (Oscars) 2011.
When she’s not writing, Christine is acting and pursuing her love of Crossfit. She loves feedback and can easily be found on her website.
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October 17, 2016
The Poppy McGuire Mysteries by Anina Collins
THE POPPY MCGUIRE MYSTERIES
by Anina Collins
Genre: Mystery
Poppy McGuire has always been a curious soul, but it's her life that's usually the topic of conversation in the small town of Sunset Ridge. But now one of the town's most important citizens has been found murdered, and everyone's life is suspect.What begins as a friendly wager with her old friend Officer Derek Hampton soon becomes far more for Poppy, and she turns to Alex Montero for help, but the enigmatic former Baltimore cop's quiet way hides as many secrets as each suspect they encounter.
Everyone in Sunset Ridge has something to hide, but Poppy and Alex are determined to uncover the identity of the murderer. They just have to watch that they don't become the next victims.
I inhaled the delicious smell of my favorite coffee. The man certainly knew how to come bearing gifts first thing in the morning. But then it dawned on me. We’d never had coffee together, so how did he know this was my favorite? Lucky guess?
Taking it from him, I asked, “How did you know how to get it?"
Alexander gave me a sly smile that somehow made him even more attractive. “I’m a detective. It’s my job to know things like that.”
Oh, he was entirely too confident.
I offered him a seat at my kitchen table and took a drink of the dark roast coffee made exactly as I liked it—two sugars, three creamers, and ice. In fact, the temperature told me he’d gotten the number of ice cubes right too. Three. But how?
“So Mr. I’m a Detective, how did you know to get it just the right temperature and exactly the way I take it? I’m a pretty particular coffee drinker.”
Another smile, but this one was slow to spread across his face and so charming I almost looked away, worried I might blush at any moment. Almost. I didn’t look away, though, because I wanted the answer to my question.
“I pay attention to what goes on around me. I was sitting in The Grounds one morning when you came in and ordered that very particular cup of coffee. It stayed with me from that day.”
Still quite shocked at his even being there in my kitchen, I leveled my gaze on him and tried to determine if he was telling the truth or just trying to charm me. “So you’re telling me that you remembered the exact way I take my coffee, even though you didn’t know me from a can of paint…when did you hear this anyway?”
“A week or so ago.”
“From a week ago, when I was a perfect stranger to you and simply some person ordering a coffee, you remembered that this morning and got me my coffee just like I like it?”
He chuckled. “Yes, and the girl behind the counter knew how you took your coffee when I told her it was for you. I’d forgotten how many ice cubes, if we’re being honest.”
I took another sip of coffee and couldn’t help but smile. He probably charmed the pants off Jennie. And he probably didn’t have to remember anything about how I took my coffee because he just told her it was for me.
Detective indeed.
“So what are you doing here, Alexander?”
The smile slowly faded, and after taking a drink from his cup, he lowered his head slightly and looked me directly in the eyes. “I came to apologize for what happened last night.”
This guy had the most delicious brown eyes I’d ever seen. Brown like expensive milk chocolate, and at that moment, I felt myself getting lost in those eyes.
Snap out of it, Poppy! This isn’t some high school date. If he’s willing to make peace, maybe you can get his help on the case, so get your head out of the clouds and say something!
I turned away to break our shared gaze and then looked back at him. “I guess I should apologize too. I should have handled that differently. I’m sorry.”
“I am too. I shouldn’t have pulled my gun on you, and for that, I’m truly sorry. I have no excuse.”
Something in those eyes of his told me he did have an excuse but he wasn’t going to tell me. All the better because I sensed hurt lay behind how he acted.
Extending my hand, I offered my own olive branch. “No harm, no foul. Maybe if we pretend like we’re meeting for the first time we can put those other times behind us. Hi, I’m Poppy. Nice to meet you.”
That slow smile returned, and he took my hand in his to shake it. “Hi, Poppy. I’m Alexander, but my friends call me Alex.”
“Hi, Alex.”
And with those two words, everything between us changed.
Taking it from him, I asked, “How did you know how to get it?"
Alexander gave me a sly smile that somehow made him even more attractive. “I’m a detective. It’s my job to know things like that.”
Oh, he was entirely too confident.
I offered him a seat at my kitchen table and took a drink of the dark roast coffee made exactly as I liked it—two sugars, three creamers, and ice. In fact, the temperature told me he’d gotten the number of ice cubes right too. Three. But how?
“So Mr. I’m a Detective, how did you know to get it just the right temperature and exactly the way I take it? I’m a pretty particular coffee drinker.”
Another smile, but this one was slow to spread across his face and so charming I almost looked away, worried I might blush at any moment. Almost. I didn’t look away, though, because I wanted the answer to my question.
“I pay attention to what goes on around me. I was sitting in The Grounds one morning when you came in and ordered that very particular cup of coffee. It stayed with me from that day.”
Still quite shocked at his even being there in my kitchen, I leveled my gaze on him and tried to determine if he was telling the truth or just trying to charm me. “So you’re telling me that you remembered the exact way I take my coffee, even though you didn’t know me from a can of paint…when did you hear this anyway?”
“A week or so ago.”
“From a week ago, when I was a perfect stranger to you and simply some person ordering a coffee, you remembered that this morning and got me my coffee just like I like it?”
He chuckled. “Yes, and the girl behind the counter knew how you took your coffee when I told her it was for you. I’d forgotten how many ice cubes, if we’re being honest.”
I took another sip of coffee and couldn’t help but smile. He probably charmed the pants off Jennie. And he probably didn’t have to remember anything about how I took my coffee because he just told her it was for me.
Detective indeed.
“So what are you doing here, Alexander?”
The smile slowly faded, and after taking a drink from his cup, he lowered his head slightly and looked me directly in the eyes. “I came to apologize for what happened last night.”
This guy had the most delicious brown eyes I’d ever seen. Brown like expensive milk chocolate, and at that moment, I felt myself getting lost in those eyes.
Snap out of it, Poppy! This isn’t some high school date. If he’s willing to make peace, maybe you can get his help on the case, so get your head out of the clouds and say something!
I turned away to break our shared gaze and then looked back at him. “I guess I should apologize too. I should have handled that differently. I’m sorry.”
“I am too. I shouldn’t have pulled my gun on you, and for that, I’m truly sorry. I have no excuse.”
Something in those eyes of his told me he did have an excuse but he wasn’t going to tell me. All the better because I sensed hurt lay behind how he acted.
Extending my hand, I offered my own olive branch. “No harm, no foul. Maybe if we pretend like we’re meeting for the first time we can put those other times behind us. Hi, I’m Poppy. Nice to meet you.”
That slow smile returned, and he took my hand in his to shake it. “Hi, Poppy. I’m Alexander, but my friends call me Alex.”
“Hi, Alex.”
And with those two words, everything between us changed.
While life in Sunset Ridge is quaint and charming during the day, what happens after the sun goes down might shock the citizens of this small town. Things are heating up in Poppy McGuire's home town, and it isn't just the July weather.Poppy and her new partner Alex have their eyes opened to the realities of Sunset Ridge after dark when a traveling salesman is murdered in his room at the Hotel Piermont, a common destination for cheating spouses on the outskirts of town. When they find out what he sells, the mystery gets even more interesting.
I found Alex standing in Room 307 with the coroner discussing the man hunched over the desk on the far wall with a kitchen knife sticking out of his back. The room looked orderly, other than the fact that a dead man was the focal point of it. The bed with its green and yellow geometric print bedspread neatly stretched across it looked as if no one had slept in it recently, and the victim’s single piece of luggage sat open and neatly packed on the stand near the closet just inside the door.
All in all, if there wasn’t a murder victim sitting there, the entire scene would look perfectly normal, albeit a bit too OCD for my taste. After spending months learning from my partner, though, I knew by the intense expression he wore as his eyes scanned the room that what surrounded the man with the knife in his back was anything but normal.
The coroner, an older man named Donny, smiled at me as he returned to examining the victim. Alex walked over to where I stood in the doorway, and in his usual calm way asked, “What took you so long?”
As I reached into my bag for a pair of gloves, I explained, “My boss. He’s a talker, so I couldn’t get here any sooner. Sorry.”
He smiled and nodded toward the coroner as he flipped through an empty brown wallet. “No problem, but I had to ask Donny to drag his feet since I wanted you to see this before he carted the victim off to the morgue.”
“Sorry, Donny. So what do we know?”
Alex thumbed through his little notebook and began reading. “As the victim sat at the desk doing work, the murderer stabbed him in the back with a knife from his room service tray he’d had delivered earlier last night around seven, according to the hotel. He was also stabbed about a dozen times more, all on various locations on his back. He was found by housekeeping at ten this morning when they came by to clean the room and didn’t see a Do Not Disturb sign on the door. We’ve dusted for prints, and I’ll be waiting to hear from the lab about them.”
“That’s a lot of stabbing. Seems like overkill.”
Looking up from his notes, he gave me a look that told me my flippant remark wasn’t helping. “So what do you think happened to Mr. Canton Walters here?”
I slipped on the same kind of blue latex gloves Alex wore and moved across the room. Looking over the thin man with curly blond hair and a knife in his back, I said the first thing that came to my mind. “I think this guy had at least one enemy who finally took that last step last night. Maybe something he did pushed them over the line. If I had to take a guess, I’d say a female.”
“Really? Why?”
I turned back to face Alex and knew he was quizzing me in his own way, so I took the challenge. “Men are more forthright and aggressive. There’s something sneaky to stabbing someone in the back as they sit at a desk doing work. That screams a woman to me.”
Donny lifted his head at my explanation and gave me a skeptical look. “She’d have to be a pretty strong woman. It takes some power to get a knife of any kind through muscles, and this knife is in there deep.”
“Well, I amend my statement then. A big woman. Maybe there’s a female weightlifting team staying in the area?”
Alex guided me toward the windows and out of the way of Donny and his men as they prepared to cart the body out. “I’ve never been to this place until today. You’re my resident historian on this town, so what can you tell me about it?”
“Think midnight rendezvous between secret lovers. Remember Dominick told us that he and Geneva used to meet at a hotel? It’s that kind of place. I’ve only been here once, but I can tell you it looks pretty much the same as when I was here years ago.”
“Have you really?” he asked, his dark eyes wide with interest as he stared down at me.
All in all, if there wasn’t a murder victim sitting there, the entire scene would look perfectly normal, albeit a bit too OCD for my taste. After spending months learning from my partner, though, I knew by the intense expression he wore as his eyes scanned the room that what surrounded the man with the knife in his back was anything but normal.
The coroner, an older man named Donny, smiled at me as he returned to examining the victim. Alex walked over to where I stood in the doorway, and in his usual calm way asked, “What took you so long?”
As I reached into my bag for a pair of gloves, I explained, “My boss. He’s a talker, so I couldn’t get here any sooner. Sorry.”
He smiled and nodded toward the coroner as he flipped through an empty brown wallet. “No problem, but I had to ask Donny to drag his feet since I wanted you to see this before he carted the victim off to the morgue.”
“Sorry, Donny. So what do we know?”
Alex thumbed through his little notebook and began reading. “As the victim sat at the desk doing work, the murderer stabbed him in the back with a knife from his room service tray he’d had delivered earlier last night around seven, according to the hotel. He was also stabbed about a dozen times more, all on various locations on his back. He was found by housekeeping at ten this morning when they came by to clean the room and didn’t see a Do Not Disturb sign on the door. We’ve dusted for prints, and I’ll be waiting to hear from the lab about them.”
“That’s a lot of stabbing. Seems like overkill.”
Looking up from his notes, he gave me a look that told me my flippant remark wasn’t helping. “So what do you think happened to Mr. Canton Walters here?”
I slipped on the same kind of blue latex gloves Alex wore and moved across the room. Looking over the thin man with curly blond hair and a knife in his back, I said the first thing that came to my mind. “I think this guy had at least one enemy who finally took that last step last night. Maybe something he did pushed them over the line. If I had to take a guess, I’d say a female.”
“Really? Why?”
I turned back to face Alex and knew he was quizzing me in his own way, so I took the challenge. “Men are more forthright and aggressive. There’s something sneaky to stabbing someone in the back as they sit at a desk doing work. That screams a woman to me.”
Donny lifted his head at my explanation and gave me a skeptical look. “She’d have to be a pretty strong woman. It takes some power to get a knife of any kind through muscles, and this knife is in there deep.”
“Well, I amend my statement then. A big woman. Maybe there’s a female weightlifting team staying in the area?”
Alex guided me toward the windows and out of the way of Donny and his men as they prepared to cart the body out. “I’ve never been to this place until today. You’re my resident historian on this town, so what can you tell me about it?”
“Think midnight rendezvous between secret lovers. Remember Dominick told us that he and Geneva used to meet at a hotel? It’s that kind of place. I’ve only been here once, but I can tell you it looks pretty much the same as when I was here years ago.”
“Have you really?” he asked, his dark eyes wide with interest as he stared down at me.
Controversy sells as much as sex, and nobody knows that better than the local radio morning DJ who loves to talk politics. His shows enrage people, but who hated Lee Reynolds enough to shoot him point blank and leave him for dead in the woods outside of town?Poppy and Alex have no shortage of suspects and for once aren't at odds on who they like for the crime. But all is not well between the partners. This time, murder has brought with it a new love interest for Poppy, but Alex isn't happy with this turn of events.
Will he lose Poppy, the one person he trusts in Sunset Ridge?
As I reached the three men, I took a deep breath of that heady dead leaf smell and exhaled, surprised at how winded that short walk had left me.
“Whew. I need to get into shape, it seems. No more danishes from The Grounds from this point on,” I joked as Alex and Craig chuckled in response.
“At least you’re in better shape than this poor guy,” Alex said in a somber voice. “No more anything for him.”
I looked down at the ground and saw a man lying face down on his stomach about five feet away. Dressed in jeans, he also wore a dark sport coat with an unmistakable bullet hole and bloodstain through the center right between his shoulder blades. A white bullseye drawn around the hole directed my gaze to it immediately.
Turning to look at Alex, I asked, “Someone think we needed help figuring out what killed him? I’m feeling like we should be insulted.”
He gave me a tiny smile as he tried to remain more professional. “I think the killer had something else in mind. This is Lee Reynolds.”
My head pivoted back to look at the dead man in front of us and I stared down to see something familiar in the body. Lee Reynolds had been the local version of a morning shock jock on AM 790 WXSN for the past five or so years. Offending people on a daily basis had become his trademark. Now the bullseye made sense.
“Wow, I didn’t realize that before now. Did you ever listen to his show?”
Craig leaned around Alex and raised his hand. “I did every morning. It was pretty addictive, actually. I didn’t even agree with most of his opinions on anything, but after the first couple shows, I couldn’t stop myself from listening.”
Looking over at Craig and then over at me, Alex mumbled, “Yeah, like a verbal train wreck. It looks like we’re supposed to believe one of those people he angered with his opinions finally got to him.”
“Do you?”
He stood silently looking down at our latest victim and shrugged. “I believe nothing right now other than Lee Reynolds is dead and someone shot him. Until I hear anything more, that’s all I can believe.”
Donny looked up from where he crouched next to the dead man and said, “Well, I can tell you it was a .38 that killed him and the murderer drew around the wound with what looks like regular sidewalk chalk like kids use to draw with.”
“Did we find the piece of chalk he used?” Alex asked no one in particular.
Craig shook his head. “Nope, not yet. There’s a lot of brush and leaves here, so it might take us a little while.”
“Search this entire area within a few hundred yards. Our murderer may have thought they were smart and threw it as they ran away, assuming they threw it at all.”
“Got it. I’ll let you know what I find,” Craig chirped as he switched on his flashlight and took off to begin his search.
“Can you tell us anything else, Donny?” I asked, hoping some kind of forensic evidence might help us start our investigation.
Even though he didn’t have to answer to me, the coroner for Sunset Ridge always did and always with a smile. “I’m guessing he’s been dead for a couple hours.”
“Whew. I need to get into shape, it seems. No more danishes from The Grounds from this point on,” I joked as Alex and Craig chuckled in response.
“At least you’re in better shape than this poor guy,” Alex said in a somber voice. “No more anything for him.”
I looked down at the ground and saw a man lying face down on his stomach about five feet away. Dressed in jeans, he also wore a dark sport coat with an unmistakable bullet hole and bloodstain through the center right between his shoulder blades. A white bullseye drawn around the hole directed my gaze to it immediately.
Turning to look at Alex, I asked, “Someone think we needed help figuring out what killed him? I’m feeling like we should be insulted.”
He gave me a tiny smile as he tried to remain more professional. “I think the killer had something else in mind. This is Lee Reynolds.”
My head pivoted back to look at the dead man in front of us and I stared down to see something familiar in the body. Lee Reynolds had been the local version of a morning shock jock on AM 790 WXSN for the past five or so years. Offending people on a daily basis had become his trademark. Now the bullseye made sense.
“Wow, I didn’t realize that before now. Did you ever listen to his show?”
Craig leaned around Alex and raised his hand. “I did every morning. It was pretty addictive, actually. I didn’t even agree with most of his opinions on anything, but after the first couple shows, I couldn’t stop myself from listening.”
Looking over at Craig and then over at me, Alex mumbled, “Yeah, like a verbal train wreck. It looks like we’re supposed to believe one of those people he angered with his opinions finally got to him.”
“Do you?”
He stood silently looking down at our latest victim and shrugged. “I believe nothing right now other than Lee Reynolds is dead and someone shot him. Until I hear anything more, that’s all I can believe.”
Donny looked up from where he crouched next to the dead man and said, “Well, I can tell you it was a .38 that killed him and the murderer drew around the wound with what looks like regular sidewalk chalk like kids use to draw with.”
“Did we find the piece of chalk he used?” Alex asked no one in particular.
Craig shook his head. “Nope, not yet. There’s a lot of brush and leaves here, so it might take us a little while.”
“Search this entire area within a few hundred yards. Our murderer may have thought they were smart and threw it as they ran away, assuming they threw it at all.”
“Got it. I’ll let you know what I find,” Craig chirped as he switched on his flashlight and took off to begin his search.
“Can you tell us anything else, Donny?” I asked, hoping some kind of forensic evidence might help us start our investigation.
Even though he didn’t have to answer to me, the coroner for Sunset Ridge always did and always with a smile. “I’m guessing he’s been dead for a couple hours.”
Poppy and Alex come up against their toughest case yet, and they may never be the same again.When someone close to both Poppy and Alex is found brutally murdered, all the clues point to Alex as the killer. But Poppy knows in her heart that her partner could never commit such a heinous crime. As the evidence begins to mount against him, Poppy must race against the clock to prove that the man she trusts with her very life isn't the murderer, even as everyone around her is convinced of his guilt.
But if Alex isn't the killer, who is? As the mystery unravels, the past and present finally meet in Sunset Ridge.
“Hello?” I groggily mumbled, silently asking why they’d interrupted my sleep.
“Poppy, it’s Derek. I’m sorry to wake you, but something’s happened.”
Hearing his deep voice instead of my father’s or Alex’s surprised me. Pulling the phone from my ear, I looked at the time. 4:17. Why was Derek calling me at four o’clock in the morning?
“What do you mean something’s happened?” I asked as my brain tried to recover from sleep mode.
“I need you to get down to the apartment building across the street from The Eagle. Hurry, okay?”
“What? What are you talking about?” I asked, slowly coming out of my fog, but it was no use. He was gone already.
I hopped out of bed and quickly dressed as my mind kicked into full panic mode and questions exploded one after another. Why was the police chief of Sunset Ridge calling me about something happening in the early hours of the morning? He had officers who handled the overnight shifts and hadn’t worked one since becoming chief nearly a year ago. What awful event had roused him from bed before his usual nine AM arrival at the station?
Then a horrible thought tore through my brain and made tears fill my eyes. Derek would only call me if something had happened to my father. Nothing else would make him involve me in one of his cases.
As I raced down the stairs to head out to my car, I called my father but it went directly to voicemail. That wasn’t normal. My father’s phone was always left on. He was one of those people who never let his phone run out of a charge. Over and over, I called and every time my heart sank a little lower when his comforting voice intoned that same voicemail message he’d had for as long as I could remember.
I backed out of my driveway like a bat out of hell and tore down the road toward the apartment building on Main Street where Derek waited to break the news that I’d lost my father. I wiped the tears rolling down my cheeks, warming the ice cold steering wheel with them. What had happened to him? Why would he have been at that building instead of at his place over the bar? My father hadn’t told me about anyone new in his life recently. Had he met someone at McGuire’s and gone back to her house?
A million ideas flashed through my mind. He’d been told by his doctor right before the holidays that he needed to lower his blood pressure, but his love of salt had continued unabated through Thanksgiving and Christmas. Had he had a heart attack and been found dead?
The last words I said to him echoed in my head as I parked my car a block away because of the police barrier. He’d called right before nine to remind me to turn on my humidifier since the heat had been running in my house and it tended to make it almost unbearably dry. I’d brushed him off because I was thinking of something Alex had mentioned about going to Baltimore for dinner one night this week and told him I’d be sure to get the humidifier running, the idea leaving me as soon as the words left my mouth. I’d then said goodbye and that I loved him, but it had been more rote than anything real and full of feeling.
How could I have been so thoughtless? My last words to him and they’d been nothing more than a daughter’s dismissiveness to the only real family she had left.
I wiped the tears from my cheeks and steeled myself for what Derek had to tell me. Craig stood in the middle of the street redirecting curious onlookers away from the apartment building about a block away and smiled at me when I approached him, but it wasn’t his usual happy smile. His face told me this wasn’t just some crime scene like usual.
And then he spoke and I knew it was bad.
“Poppy, it’s Derek. I’m sorry to wake you, but something’s happened.”
Hearing his deep voice instead of my father’s or Alex’s surprised me. Pulling the phone from my ear, I looked at the time. 4:17. Why was Derek calling me at four o’clock in the morning?
“What do you mean something’s happened?” I asked as my brain tried to recover from sleep mode.
“I need you to get down to the apartment building across the street from The Eagle. Hurry, okay?”
“What? What are you talking about?” I asked, slowly coming out of my fog, but it was no use. He was gone already.
I hopped out of bed and quickly dressed as my mind kicked into full panic mode and questions exploded one after another. Why was the police chief of Sunset Ridge calling me about something happening in the early hours of the morning? He had officers who handled the overnight shifts and hadn’t worked one since becoming chief nearly a year ago. What awful event had roused him from bed before his usual nine AM arrival at the station?
Then a horrible thought tore through my brain and made tears fill my eyes. Derek would only call me if something had happened to my father. Nothing else would make him involve me in one of his cases.
As I raced down the stairs to head out to my car, I called my father but it went directly to voicemail. That wasn’t normal. My father’s phone was always left on. He was one of those people who never let his phone run out of a charge. Over and over, I called and every time my heart sank a little lower when his comforting voice intoned that same voicemail message he’d had for as long as I could remember.
I backed out of my driveway like a bat out of hell and tore down the road toward the apartment building on Main Street where Derek waited to break the news that I’d lost my father. I wiped the tears rolling down my cheeks, warming the ice cold steering wheel with them. What had happened to him? Why would he have been at that building instead of at his place over the bar? My father hadn’t told me about anyone new in his life recently. Had he met someone at McGuire’s and gone back to her house?
A million ideas flashed through my mind. He’d been told by his doctor right before the holidays that he needed to lower his blood pressure, but his love of salt had continued unabated through Thanksgiving and Christmas. Had he had a heart attack and been found dead?
The last words I said to him echoed in my head as I parked my car a block away because of the police barrier. He’d called right before nine to remind me to turn on my humidifier since the heat had been running in my house and it tended to make it almost unbearably dry. I’d brushed him off because I was thinking of something Alex had mentioned about going to Baltimore for dinner one night this week and told him I’d be sure to get the humidifier running, the idea leaving me as soon as the words left my mouth. I’d then said goodbye and that I loved him, but it had been more rote than anything real and full of feeling.
How could I have been so thoughtless? My last words to him and they’d been nothing more than a daughter’s dismissiveness to the only real family she had left.
I wiped the tears from my cheeks and steeled myself for what Derek had to tell me. Craig stood in the middle of the street redirecting curious onlookers away from the apartment building about a block away and smiled at me when I approached him, but it wasn’t his usual happy smile. His face told me this wasn’t just some crime scene like usual.
And then he spoke and I knew it was bad.
Poppy and Alex are back for another mystery in Happy Hour, the fifth book in the Poppy McGuire Mystery Series!Springtime brings warm weather and murder to Sunset Ridge, and for Poppy, this particular case strikes close to home.
Antiques dealer Marcus Tyne is found dead in the front seat of his friend’s car outside of McGuire’s after a Cinco de Mayo celebration, but at first glance, there’s no reason why he’s dead.
Until the coroner finds out he’s been poisoned.
When a second man is poisoned, Poppy and Alex are thrust into a mystery that threatens to tear them apart. While they struggle to solve the case as their differences become more apparent, a murderer walks free in Sunset Ridge and may have another victim in their sights
Anina Collins has always loved a good mystery. From Agatha Christie's Hercule Poirot to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's famous detective Sherlock Holmes to Dan Brown's intrepid Professor Robert Langdon, she's spent some of her favorite reading times with mystery novels. When she's not writing her favorite mystery couple, she can be found watching entirely too much Supernatural and dreaming about the beach.
Visit Anina's Facebook page for news about her books, along with giveaways and other fun stuff!
Visit her website and sign up for her newsletter today for exclusive news first!
Visit Anina's Facebook page for news about her books, along with giveaways and other fun stuff!
Visit her website and sign up for her newsletter today for exclusive news first!
MoB Promotions
October 14, 2016
The Deck of Cards Killer by Lisa Bilbrey
THE DECK OF CARDS KILLER
A Zoe Mack Novel
by Lisa Bilbrey
Genre: Contemporary Romantic Suspense
Cover Designer: The Graphics Shed
Cover Designer: The Graphics Shed
With a trail of murdered women leading up the west coast, Zoe Mack gets an unexpected invitation to work with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Zoe’s arrival to the FBI is less than ideal, however, and she struggles to find her place on the team. Her new partner isn’t helping. Jeremiah Johnson makes it clear that he doesn’t want or need someone like her — someone with a past tied to their suspect.
She has personal knowledge about their killer, and accepts this chance to get her feet inside the door, even if that means working with her ex-partner Elijah Stone. A brutal attack tore them apart, their friendship still strained by pain and anger.
Zoe vows to close their case and end the reign of terror that has haunted her, even if that means she loses herself along the way.
She has personal knowledge about their killer, and accepts this chance to get her feet inside the door, even if that means working with her ex-partner Elijah Stone. A brutal attack tore them apart, their friendship still strained by pain and anger.
Zoe vows to close their case and end the reign of terror that has haunted her, even if that means she loses herself along the way.
“What’s so funny?” Zoe asked, knowing he’d heard everything said between the two of them thanks to the wire she was sporting.
“You just love antagonizing them, don’t you, Mack?”
“I do,” she admitted with a nod. “I’ll get the paperwork done in the morning, if that’s okay.”
Captain Nelson smiled. “Sure you’re all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she insisted.
Captain nodded. “I’ll see you first thing in the morning then.”
Zoe agreed with a tilt of her head and looked back over at Donald, who was being loaded into the backseat of a black and white, but her attention was pulled to the man leaning against the back the police car: Jax Shaw. He stared at her, a look of yearning on his face, a look she couldn’t return.
Once upon a time — and not that long ago — he’d been her comfort, her solace from a world that overwhelmed her. But not anymore, not after he betrayed her like many others in her life had. So, rather than allowing herself to let him hold her, she turned and walked in the other direction.
Twenty minutes later, and a stop at the corner market for a few groceries, including a nice, cheap bottle of wine, Zoe was trudging up the steps of the three story brownstone she had called home for the last six years.
As she dug her keys out of her purse, Zoe shifted her eyes to the small, two inch by three inch business card that had been taped to her door. In large, gold letters the words: Federal Bureau of Investigation. And below that was the name: Special Agent Elijah Stone. Beneath his name were his work number, his cell number, and three words that had been handwritten: I need you.
“You just love antagonizing them, don’t you, Mack?”
“I do,” she admitted with a nod. “I’ll get the paperwork done in the morning, if that’s okay.”
Captain Nelson smiled. “Sure you’re all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she insisted.
Captain nodded. “I’ll see you first thing in the morning then.”
Zoe agreed with a tilt of her head and looked back over at Donald, who was being loaded into the backseat of a black and white, but her attention was pulled to the man leaning against the back the police car: Jax Shaw. He stared at her, a look of yearning on his face, a look she couldn’t return.
Once upon a time — and not that long ago — he’d been her comfort, her solace from a world that overwhelmed her. But not anymore, not after he betrayed her like many others in her life had. So, rather than allowing herself to let him hold her, she turned and walked in the other direction.
Twenty minutes later, and a stop at the corner market for a few groceries, including a nice, cheap bottle of wine, Zoe was trudging up the steps of the three story brownstone she had called home for the last six years.
As she dug her keys out of her purse, Zoe shifted her eyes to the small, two inch by three inch business card that had been taped to her door. In large, gold letters the words: Federal Bureau of Investigation. And below that was the name: Special Agent Elijah Stone. Beneath his name were his work number, his cell number, and three words that had been handwritten: I need you.
Obsessive, compulsive, slightly crazed, but enough about her personality. First and foremost, Lisa Bilbrey is a mom to three and a wife to one. She loves to write, and spends the majority of everyday writing. It's who she is, and what she's meant to be doing. Words are her life, the air she breathes, and the nutrients of her soul. Finding a love in the written word, Lisa Bilbrey started writing as a way to express herself and let her voice be heard. From the first word she wrote, she'd found her heart and soul.Always willing to learn, she's spends much of her time trying to improve as a storyteller.
MoB Promotions
October 12, 2016
The Gates Legacy by Lorenz Font
THE GATES LEGACY
by Lorenz Font
Genre: Fantasy Romance
Deep in the heart of New York City’s netherworld, a horrible disease is ravaging the vampire community. The Vampire Council is on a crusade to obliterate those infected, and Harrow Gates is target Number One. The unwitting source of the plague, he suffers from the same nightmarish symptoms as his victims. The world he’d been thrust into was cold, cruel, and intent on eradicating him, and the legions of afflicted vampires he created with his bite.
A bounty hanging over his head, satisfying his hunger has become an enormous challenge for Harrow. The less he feeds, the more hideous and painful his lesions become. Constantly running for his life and learning new tricks to survive, Harrow is in no position to refuse when Pritchard Tack offers him a unique opportunity. Pritchard not only gives Harrow a new beginning, but also a purpose and a chance to rectify the chaos he created in the vampire world. However, the multibillionaire has an agenda of his own.
Jordan is a reluctant new vampire and a woman on a mission. After the demise of her family and her own transformation at the hands of Goran, the ruthless leader of the Vampire Council, her only focus is revenge. Constantly faced with one frustrating dead-end after another, a stroke of luck leads her to an underground facility that she suspects is the lair of the monster for whom she is looking.
Upon learning more about the truth behind the secret bunker, Jordan must fight against her growing feelings of friendship and concern for the facility’s inhabitants. One man in particular threatens to pull her heart away from her sworn mission. There is something behind Harrow’s dark lenses that unsettles the hardened female. Once again, she trembles and hungers for something other than red-stained revenge. Is love strong enough to override her hate-fueled thirst for vengeance?
Harrow looked up at the sound of her footsteps, his eyes unfocused. His sunglasses were on the table, and his eyes were almost opaque in color when they settled on her. He sat up on the bed.“Jordan, please go away.” He hissed and moved back when she approached. Her movement was slow and calculated. She was unwilling to startle him into action.
“Darling, I need to draw blood from you,” Jordan said, as if appeasing a crying child with sweet offerings.
His fangs were incredibly long. She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, but she thought she saw them throb right before her very eyes. It had been almost two weeks since he’d last fed, and it looked like he had reached his limit.
Harrow licked his dried, chapped lips and inched away from her. The lesions on his arms, legs, and around his neck were raw, almost glowing red and had grown bigger. He gritted his teeth as if to dispel the demons of his disease. Jordan was certain it had something to do with the burning pain from the wounds as well as the pang of hunger. Starvation was a tough opponent, because it would eat you up alive and spew out your carcass after it finished you off.
“Make it quick, because I’m trying hard here.” Harrow appeared bone tired, his tone weary as he held out his arm after he made sure she was wearing gloves. “Move fast,” he reminded her as he eyed her jugular. The pulsing clearly began to excite him.
“I know you won’t hurt me.” She kept her voice low and held his arm. He was burning hot, and she felt like her hands would melt on contact. Harrow rested his arm on his thigh as she tried to keep her hands steady.
Harrow drew in a deep breath before exhaling with a curse. “Hurry up, Jordan.”
Once she stuck the needle into his skin, Harrow hissed and began twitching again. After she filled the evacuated collection tube with blood, she pulled out the needle and applied a little pressure to the entry site with her finger before taping it up.
“Get out now!” he screamed. “Now!”
Before she stepped away, she held his gaze for a moment and whispered the words she’d been dying to tell him.
“I love you, Harrow.”
Time stood still as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Harrow’s breathing slowed, and his twitching ceased for just a moment. “I love you more,” he said. “But please, get out of this room now.”
He didn’t scream the order, he whispered it as if it was a last ditch effort before he turned savage. Jordan walked out the door, which Leroy held open for her. Her heart was aching, but at the same time, it was soaring. How could her heart sing and lament at the same time?
Within the Tack Enterprises group of underground fighters, Tor Burns is one of the few noninfected vampires committed to saving his diseased comrades from certain death at the hands of the Vampire Council. He is the meanest, strongest, and most impulsive member of the team. Having survived a vicious attack in Tack’s underground facility, he now has a new purpose: guard the irresistible daughter of their fallen leader, no matter the price. Armed with an abrasive personality and fierce loyalty, Tor approaches this new responsibility with serious determination, despite his reservations.Hunted by the Council, Allison Tack is unable to do as she pleases. The beautiful and timid co-heir of the Tack fortune is guarded by those loyal to her father. A walking target wherever she goes, Allison wants to learn how to protect herself, but no one is listening. Sick of being the helpless one in a company of trained fighters, Allison vows to prove that she can fight alongside the best of them.
Meanwhile, harem leader Melissa is hell-bent on unraveling any clue about the fate of her son, Demetrius. He disappeared without a word, and time has made her desperate to find him. Stepping up her efforts, she seeks the help of Demetrius’s son, Zane. With his help, Melissa finds the lair of the underground vampires and wages war against them.
Thrown together by necessity, Tor and Allison can’t continue to deny their attraction to each other. Tor wants to give in to his feelings for Allison, but old demons resurface. Tormented by a dark secret, Tor must confront the past to prevent losing the best thing that ever happened to him.
A life must be given for a life taken. Will Tor have to sacrifice himself before Allison pays the price?
“Hey, what are you doing here?” Tor asked, walking closer. He reached out and touched her shoulder. Her muscles were tense and hard.Allison pivoted, and her eyes gave her emotions away. Without answering, she launched a mean, right-handed slap across his face, and he staggered backward.
“That’s for leaving, you stupid, stupid man!”
For once in his life, Tor was out of wisecracks. He stared at her, stunned and at loss for words. Touching his cheek, he could still feel the sting. He’d screwed up.
“I’m sorry . . . I didn’t mean to leave just like that. I—I got a little carried away.” Tor had no idea how to do the whole apology thing, but he tried.
Allison shook her head. “Do you know how it feels to think I might lose you? I lost Daddy already. Please don’t put me through that kind of hell again.”
Her plea tore at his heart. He had forgotten to consider her feelings.
“Ally, I apologize . . .” He moved closer, aching to touch her.
“I don’t think I’d live if I lost you.” Allison closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his waist.
Closing his eyes, Tor breathed in her scent and thanked his lucky stars he hadn’t blown his chance with her. “You won’t. I’ll be with you until you’re sick of me.”
“If you ever pull a number like that again, I swear I’ll kill you myself.”
Atta girl! That was the Allison he had come to love.
“I won’t give you a reason to get rid of me.” He tugged at her arm and directed her to the door. “I want to show you exactly how sorry I am. Let me make it up to you.”
Allison stopped walking and turned to face him, her eyes narrowing. “And how exactly are you going to do that?”
He waggled his eyebrows and grinned. “You’ll find out . . . in the bedroom.”
Rohnert comes from a long line of pure-blooded vampires. Quiet and principled, he is known for his combat expertise and is beloved by peers and students alike. Having broken away from the Vampire Council, Rohnert has nothing to do with the affairs of the elite group of Elders, which is being run into the ground by Goran, a former friend and ally.With the vampire race in upheaval, he must rise to the occasion and fulfill the prophecy of the black book, which is the source of wisdom and history of his people. Refusing to support Goran’s tyrannical rule and with no interest in ruling himself, he allies with freedom fighters led by the indomitable Harrow Gates. However, the prophecies failed to prepare him to handle one passionate and determined human doctor.
Shelly Anderson vowed to never fall in love again, but her resolve quickly changes upon meeting enigmatic and reclusive Rohnert. Although she was lucky enough to get what she wanted, their one night together ended in a nightmare. Now carrying his baby, she intends to raise the child on her own, but Rohnert’s unexpected reentry into her life derails her plans.
While she teaches him how powerful a human’s love can be, Rohnert realizes the lengths he is willing to go to keep her close and safe, even if it means violating a long-standing decree among pure-blooded vampires to keep their bloodlines alive.
When Goran begins to kill off the remaining Elders, Harrow’s rebels urge Rohnert to step in, but it isn’t until harsh reality comes knocking at his door that his choice becomes clear. Rohnert must do whatever he can to save the people he loves or risk losing them forever, but the reluctant savior may already be too late to protect the lives that matter most.
Rohnert was already undressing Shelly with his eyes the moment the bolt on the door engaged. Man, it had been a while. This time, he would initiate every damn thing. He had a lot to make up for—the lost time, the way he’d left, and overall, his idiocy.He had led her to believe that he couldn’t love her. Who had he been kidding? She was the very air he breathed, the single reason why living was bearable. Now that she was carrying his child, he’d treat her just like the queen that she was. It didn’t take half a brain to know he’d screwed up, and he wouldn’t take her forgiveness for granted.
Ever.
“So we need to talk,” he said, running his hand along her collarbone.
Shelly closed her eyes, and her expression told him that the talking could wait. She had better things in mind. She wanted to make love to him.
He stiffened, and so did his cock.
“What are we going to talk about?” Her voice took a nosedive, becoming husky, and she wormed her soft hands around his waist, her lips parted like an invitation to a playground.
Okay, initiation on his part didn’t happen. The woman was fast. The scent of her lust wafted in the air, and his nostrils flared.
“I want to show you how much to mean to me.” He threaded his fingers through her silky hair.
“How much?” Her hand wound to the hardened bulge in his pants.
Rohnert jerked on contact, welcoming the intrusion. “So much that I’m aching,”
Her eyes spoke volumes, and her lips curved into a playful smile. “You like it?”
He shifted, allowing more room for her to navigate. The pleasure of her fingers grazing his skin made him tremble, his knees weakening under her touch.
“You have no idea.”
So much for making the first move. Shelly was in the driver’s seat, and he was just going along for the ride—which was wrong. It was his turn to give her pleasure, but her hand cupping his erection made it very difficult to think.
Rohnert moved his body to give her space to work. He was such a selfish bastard, but one look at her gave him absolution. She was enjoying this as much as he was.
The vampires of New York City are breathing easier after the demise of the tyrannical former head of the Vampire Council, Goran. Under Rohnert, the revered and newly ascended leader, their future looks promising. However, an unknown enemy is manipulating events, killing humans and vampires alike, and exposing their secrets to the human world.This is bad news for new vampire Cyrus and his band of fighters at Tack Enterprises. Events derail his plans to find Zane, the sadistic vampire who tortured Cyrus and forced immortality on him. Armed with hatred deep in his bones, all Cyrus cares about is getting even, and Zane has it coming. Cyrus soon finds himself torn between the crippling desire for revenge and his responsibility to his friends. When he begins to spend time in the company of the beautiful and pureblooded vampire, Isidora, her presence in his life makes him rethink his priorities.
Isidora is able to read minds. The thoughts she hears from the respected and irresistible vampire, Cyrus, are filled with both anger towards Zane and a deep admiration for her. Being closeted all her life, Issy has no idea what to do in the face of the outside world’s war, death, and challenges. One thing is clear. She craves Cyrus, but his need for vengeance is clouding his mind. After discovering a previously hidden family member and being called to serve the Council, Issy is at a crossroads in her life and struggles to find the right path.
Both vampires face tough choices. Should Issy pursue her feelings for Cyrus or wait until he can return her affection? Will Cyrus deny his attraction to Isidora so he can kill the man who made his life a living hell on earth? Every decision leads to a reckoning.
It was when he brushed his hand down her cheek that she felt his tenderness firsthand. It was a slow caress she hadn’t expected from a man with so much strength in him. Isidora leaned into his touch.“I know you won’t.” She closed her eyes. If this was as far as he’d allow himself to go, it was enough for her.
“Issy, you have no idea what your offer is doing to me.” Cyrus’ breathing grew ragged.
“What am I doing to you?” She opened her eyes just in time to see the hunger etched in his face, his fangs elongating until they were punching his lower lip.
“You make me want to rip off your clothes. Stop teasing a hungry dog with a big bone.”
In this quiet moment, Cyrus was all she wanted. The air grew electric, and the magnetism between them was undeniable, so strong she could touch it. Her gaze slid down to the massive tenting in his pants and couldn’t deny her own hunger.
“You’re going to kiss me.”
“Damn right I will.” He closed the small gap and crushed his mouth against hers, his kiss hard and filled with urgency.
Issy rode the tide, tasting, stroking, and feeling the jolt of life from his lips. She pressed her body closer, but he ended the kiss abruptly. Way too soon.
“You better run, little girl.” He turned away.
“I’m not going to run. Take what is freely given to you.” She touched his shoulder, caressing the taut muscle.
A professional daydreamer, Lorenz Font discovered her love of writing after reading a celebrated novel that inspired one idea after another. Since being published in 2013, she has been conspiring, butting heads, and enjoying her spare time with vampires, angels, samurais, and other creatures she has created in her head.Her perfect day consists of writing and lounging on her garage couch (a.k.a. the office) with a glass of her favorite cabernet while listening to her ever-growing music collection. She finds writing urban fantasy exhilarating and places an intense focus on angst and the redemption of flawed characters. Her fascination with romantic twists is a mainstay in all her stories.
Lorenz lives in Southern California with her supportive family and three demanding dogs.
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Chaos and Crab Pots by Cherime MacFarlane
CHAOS AND CRAB POTS
by Cherime MacFarlane
Genre: Christian Romance
Matt Hite is busy hiding from God's call on his life. His mistake: answering a friend's call for help.
Aurora, Alice Ann, is running from a man who blames her for losing a chance to grab a pile of money and leave Alaska.
Their destinies collide and everything comes to a head in the tiny Western Alaskan village of Unalakleet. Death awaits one of them in the cold waters of Norton Sound, but who?
Matt hated the mission trips his parents took him on every summer but one. That year the boy learned about commercial fishing and chose a different path. Adrift since splitting with an unfaithful fiance, he is ignoring the tug he feels. His father is the Reverend, not him. Answering a friend's call for help in the Norton Sound summer crab season lands Matt in Unalakleet. The woman on the plane is pretty but has a bad attitude.
Aurora knows her name change won't matter to those in the village who know her as Alice Ann. On the way to Unalakleet to help her grandmother bring in crab, escape from her bosses son is a side benefit of the trip. Jacky is out of control, and being caught in the fallout when he goes down doesn't appeal. An arrest record won't help her career path.
Aurora, Alice Ann, is running from a man who blames her for losing a chance to grab a pile of money and leave Alaska.
Their destinies collide and everything comes to a head in the tiny Western Alaskan village of Unalakleet. Death awaits one of them in the cold waters of Norton Sound, but who?
Matt hated the mission trips his parents took him on every summer but one. That year the boy learned about commercial fishing and chose a different path. Adrift since splitting with an unfaithful fiance, he is ignoring the tug he feels. His father is the Reverend, not him. Answering a friend's call for help in the Norton Sound summer crab season lands Matt in Unalakleet. The woman on the plane is pretty but has a bad attitude.
Aurora knows her name change won't matter to those in the village who know her as Alice Ann. On the way to Unalakleet to help her grandmother bring in crab, escape from her bosses son is a side benefit of the trip. Jacky is out of control, and being caught in the fallout when he goes down doesn't appeal. An arrest record won't help her career path.
Aurora; that was a name she wouldn't hear for a while. With a shake of her head, the young woman seated in the waiting area picked at the hem of her shirt. She would need to learn to respond to Alice Ann again. No one in Unalakleet would call her by the new name. To everyone out there, she was little Alice Ann, Granny Petrova’s granddaughter.
A mild snort accompanied the next thought. She wouldn’t be caught dead in the damn village, if it wasn’t for her Granny. It wasn’t Granny’s fault her daughter took up with a disreputable ex-soldier looking for a place to hide in the wilds of Alaska.
Nor was it her mother’s fault she got pregnant, four times in fact, and produced Alice Ann. But, it was her father’s fault he got bored with the little hills and myriad swamps covering the point Unalakleet sat on. Val Peters packed Grace and Alice Ann up, and went to live in Slana.
She was sure her father had a few screws loose to move out to that cold hole. Then, she amended that; a few more than the Veteran’s Administration’s initial diagnoses showed. Val Lowe Peters left a portion of his sanity in some Middle Eastern country. Slana was colder than hell. To her way of thinking, hell was cold, and it sucked all the heat out of you.
The place warmed up a little in the summer, unlike Unalakleet. The coastal town never warmed up, but the temperature never dropped below minus forty either. Anchorage was the best of both worlds. It got snow, and once in a great while in the winter, the temperature dropped to minus twenty, or twenty-five. In the summer, it could get up to a pleasant sixty-nine, or even seventy, degrees.
When it came right down to it, Aurora welcomed the opportunity to leave Anchorage. For a change, she was happy about packing her bags for the trip to Norton Sound, where she would help her Granny Petrova. To her way of thinking, hauling in crab pots beat arguing with her father. There were better things to do than dodging the old man. If she said the wrong word, the fight would begin.
Not that it was anything new for her and the old man to get into it. The arguments had become an almost daily occurrence once she had entered high school. If her Auntie Penny hadn't needed help with the kids, she would still be stuck in Slana.
It hadn't been great for her aunt when the father of her three children dropped dead of a heart attack, but she supposed the old cliché about every dark cloud had a point. It got her out of the village of Slana and away from her dad.
Aurora shouldered the duffel bag and joined the other passengers outside. They followed one of the ramp rats out to the boarding area for the aircraft on the apron.
Penny, her mother's sister, needed someone home with the kids after school, and if she hadn't got out of the house, there might have been a murder. Who did who in would have been problematical.
Snagged ✯ Stalking Red ✯ Heart of the Hunter ✯ Cougar Hunt ✯ Baubles and Beads ✯ Grass and Blue Skies
Join us on Oct 21st 8-10pm EASTERN as we celebrate the release of Chaos and Crab Pots, last of the Copper River Romances by Cherime MacFarlane
Meet Award Winning, Best-Selling Author Cherime MacFarlane. A prolific multi-genre author, she has a broad range of interests that reflect her been there-done that life. Romance, Historical Fiction, Fantasy, Paranormal, all sorts of characters and plots evolve from a vivid imagination.
I came to Alaska kicking and screaming in 1976, and I never want to leave. I cut firewood on shares for money to get through the winter. I swore I would not live above the Alaska Range because it was too cold there and wound up in the Copper River Basin where it got just a cold as Fairbanks.
My second husband, a Scot from Glasgow, was the love of my life. When I write Scots dialect, I experienced hearing it from my in laws. Each time my husband got on the phone to Scotland after five seconds, I could hardly understand a word. I was my second husband's chief mechanic's helper and roadie.
I live in a cabin which is slowly being surrounded by the city and wish I were further out. My two cats and Husky-Collie mix dog are happy in our little slice of heaven called Alaska. In the silence of winter dreams of people and places provide a rich pool of ideas to explore.
MoB Promotions
A mild snort accompanied the next thought. She wouldn’t be caught dead in the damn village, if it wasn’t for her Granny. It wasn’t Granny’s fault her daughter took up with a disreputable ex-soldier looking for a place to hide in the wilds of Alaska.
Nor was it her mother’s fault she got pregnant, four times in fact, and produced Alice Ann. But, it was her father’s fault he got bored with the little hills and myriad swamps covering the point Unalakleet sat on. Val Peters packed Grace and Alice Ann up, and went to live in Slana.
She was sure her father had a few screws loose to move out to that cold hole. Then, she amended that; a few more than the Veteran’s Administration’s initial diagnoses showed. Val Lowe Peters left a portion of his sanity in some Middle Eastern country. Slana was colder than hell. To her way of thinking, hell was cold, and it sucked all the heat out of you.
The place warmed up a little in the summer, unlike Unalakleet. The coastal town never warmed up, but the temperature never dropped below minus forty either. Anchorage was the best of both worlds. It got snow, and once in a great while in the winter, the temperature dropped to minus twenty, or twenty-five. In the summer, it could get up to a pleasant sixty-nine, or even seventy, degrees.
When it came right down to it, Aurora welcomed the opportunity to leave Anchorage. For a change, she was happy about packing her bags for the trip to Norton Sound, where she would help her Granny Petrova. To her way of thinking, hauling in crab pots beat arguing with her father. There were better things to do than dodging the old man. If she said the wrong word, the fight would begin.
Not that it was anything new for her and the old man to get into it. The arguments had become an almost daily occurrence once she had entered high school. If her Auntie Penny hadn't needed help with the kids, she would still be stuck in Slana.
It hadn't been great for her aunt when the father of her three children dropped dead of a heart attack, but she supposed the old cliché about every dark cloud had a point. It got her out of the village of Slana and away from her dad.
Aurora shouldered the duffel bag and joined the other passengers outside. They followed one of the ramp rats out to the boarding area for the aircraft on the apron.
Penny, her mother's sister, needed someone home with the kids after school, and if she hadn't got out of the house, there might have been a murder. Who did who in would have been problematical.
Snagged ✯ Stalking Red ✯ Heart of the Hunter ✯ Cougar Hunt ✯ Baubles and Beads ✯ Grass and Blue Skies
Join us on Oct 21st 8-10pm EASTERN as we celebrate the release of Chaos and Crab Pots, last of the Copper River Romances by Cherime MacFarlane
Meet Award Winning, Best-Selling Author Cherime MacFarlane. A prolific multi-genre author, she has a broad range of interests that reflect her been there-done that life. Romance, Historical Fiction, Fantasy, Paranormal, all sorts of characters and plots evolve from a vivid imagination.I came to Alaska kicking and screaming in 1976, and I never want to leave. I cut firewood on shares for money to get through the winter. I swore I would not live above the Alaska Range because it was too cold there and wound up in the Copper River Basin where it got just a cold as Fairbanks.
My second husband, a Scot from Glasgow, was the love of my life. When I write Scots dialect, I experienced hearing it from my in laws. Each time my husband got on the phone to Scotland after five seconds, I could hardly understand a word. I was my second husband's chief mechanic's helper and roadie.
I live in a cabin which is slowly being surrounded by the city and wish I were further out. My two cats and Husky-Collie mix dog are happy in our little slice of heaven called Alaska. In the silence of winter dreams of people and places provide a rich pool of ideas to explore.
MoB Promotions
Arabian Nights & Arabian Nights by Clive Johnson
Just to let everyone know, this book is aimed at adult readers. One or two stories contain references to love scenes (limited and not explicit); one chapter refers to brutal treatments suffered in one of Saddam's prisons, but is not graphically explicit.
ARABIAN NIGHTS & ARABIAN NIGHTS
Tradional Tales from a Thousand and One Nights, Contemporary Tales for Adults
by Clive Johnson
Genre: Fictional Short Stories & Fictional Fairy Tales
Content warning: the book is aimed at adult readers. One or two stories contain references to love scenes (limited and not explicit); one chapter refers to brutal treatments suffered in one of Sadam's prisons, but is not graphically explicit.
Classic tales from the Arabian Nights retold alongside modern interpretations.
Magic carpets and flying horses, caverns glittering with gold, unexpected plotlines following the fortunes of heroes and villains–who cannot fail to be enchanted by the magic and wonder of the tales of the One Thousand and One Nights?
This most celebrated collections of tales feature shape-shifting and miraculous transportation across continents, powerful jinn who rise like smoke from simple vessels, dreams that delve into the secrets of the subconscious, and gigantic, man-carrying birds.
The backdrop for the tales moves from barren deserts to spectacular cities, from the edge of the world to the inner sanctuaries of mighty rulers. Kings and paupers, benevolent sages and devious magicians, worthy princesses and unscrupulous harlots–all play their part in teaching important truths and providing lively entertainment.
This innovative book offers retellings of a selection of tales that have captured the imaginations of countless people over many centuries. Accompanying each is a short story set in a contemporary context, which reframes the messages and teachings of the original, specifically written for an adult audience.
Here are stories of betrayal and murder, exploitation and sibling rivalry, soul-searching and discovery. The modern parallel tales swap the busy alleyways of old Baghdad for the horror of Saddam's prisons, move from following caravans sweeping across the Sahara to modern day pilgrims trekking along the Caminos of northern Spain, and lift Aladdin out of his cave to unwittingly face Triad gangsters and antiques smugglers.
Wayward Baptist ministers, adulterous accountants, and eco-warrior backpackers follow in the footsteps of the no-less colourful characters than those that feature in the original tales.
Each pair of stories is accompanied by a commentary on how they might be interpreted. The result is a gripping collection of tales that may continue to bring the mystery and magic of the Nights to life, as well as provoking fresh thought and feeling for adult readers. Prepare to be surprised, uplifted and–in the spirit of the original Arabian Nights Entertainments–enthralled.
A journalist had picked up on the news of Todd’s arrest, and by some means had been able to identify him as a Baptist pastor. Soon, the news of my husband’s escapade with the prostitute had made not only the front page of the Louisville Courier-Journal, but had carried across the state to Lexington too. I dreaded to think what the decent people of our church would say when they saw the photograph of their pastor being paraded in front of a police identification plate.
When we returned to Lexington, most people seemed to want to avoid mentioning the topic. It was obvious to me that they had been deeply unsettled by Todd's indiscretion, but to our faces at least, they promised their love, assuring us that ours is a God of love, able to forgive every sinner–even a wayward minister.
Todd was not afraid to show his contrition before his flock. Were Oscars awarded for emotional outpouring by those in church ministry, Todd would surely be nominated for an award. Whether or not his tears were genuine I do not know, but he certainly gave a powerful example of how to show repentance when he took his place on the dais.
“O my Father, how I have failed you! How I have let these, my beloved brothers and sisters, down! Forgive me, for I am the worse among sinners!”
His cries and wailing knew no limit. Kneeling before the congregation, Todd accepted the prayers and blessings of the people. Two of the deacons laid hands on him, commanding the demons that were in him to depart.
Perhaps this display was good for our community. Other men in the congregation came forward to confess their infidelity, and to receive the forgiveness of the Lord Jesus and those of us who serve Him. In fact, I don't think that our church had for a long time felt so overcome by the love and warmth of The Holy Spirit.
The experience had certainly been a shock for Todd. He knew that his position as a pastor would be under threat were he to backslide again. More than anything, I think that he was genuinely aware that he’d been unfaithful to his Lord.
He had been unfaithful to me too, and privately I went through a period of hurt and suffering. But the fast pace of events, and Todd’s apparent regret for his actions, kept me focused on supporting my husband.
Arabian Nights & Arabian Nights is Clive Johnson’s seventh book, and the second in the series that takes old and often familiar tales and retells them alongside modern-day versions. Taking this approach, Clive says that he aims to recapture some of the magic and important messages that can be found in traditional fairytales, stories from mythology, etc, while inspiring fresh wonder among adult readers.
His earlier books were aimed at business readers, and he’s also edited an anthology of interfaith wisdom. Recently, Clive has also started narrating and producing audible audiobooks for other authors, which is an activity that he says he particularly enjoys.
Clive spends most of his time in the UK, where he was born, although he has no fixed home. This allows him to follow his heart from place to place, often house and pet sitting for friends and others who are taking a break away. He also often takes in or hosts retreats and workshops on various themes. Many house sits introduce him to some wonderful furry friends, and provide the perfect opportunity for settling into some serious writing!
Having an autistic condition and with a strong interest in mysticism, Clive likes to approach his work with a keen curiosity. He says that he enjoys researching and imagining a story almost as much as he does writing it.
Clive is an avid reader, and an ordained interfaith minister.
Goodreads ✯ Twitter ✯ Facebook ✯ Amazon ✯ Website
Please note: This giveaway is being run by the author and will only run from Oct 17-21
MoB Promotions
ARABIAN NIGHTS & ARABIAN NIGHTS
Tradional Tales from a Thousand and One Nights, Contemporary Tales for Adults
by Clive Johnson
Genre: Fictional Short Stories & Fictional Fairy Tales
Content warning: the book is aimed at adult readers. One or two stories contain references to love scenes (limited and not explicit); one chapter refers to brutal treatments suffered in one of Sadam's prisons, but is not graphically explicit.
Classic tales from the Arabian Nights retold alongside modern interpretations.
Magic carpets and flying horses, caverns glittering with gold, unexpected plotlines following the fortunes of heroes and villains–who cannot fail to be enchanted by the magic and wonder of the tales of the One Thousand and One Nights?
This most celebrated collections of tales feature shape-shifting and miraculous transportation across continents, powerful jinn who rise like smoke from simple vessels, dreams that delve into the secrets of the subconscious, and gigantic, man-carrying birds.
The backdrop for the tales moves from barren deserts to spectacular cities, from the edge of the world to the inner sanctuaries of mighty rulers. Kings and paupers, benevolent sages and devious magicians, worthy princesses and unscrupulous harlots–all play their part in teaching important truths and providing lively entertainment.
This innovative book offers retellings of a selection of tales that have captured the imaginations of countless people over many centuries. Accompanying each is a short story set in a contemporary context, which reframes the messages and teachings of the original, specifically written for an adult audience.
Here are stories of betrayal and murder, exploitation and sibling rivalry, soul-searching and discovery. The modern parallel tales swap the busy alleyways of old Baghdad for the horror of Saddam's prisons, move from following caravans sweeping across the Sahara to modern day pilgrims trekking along the Caminos of northern Spain, and lift Aladdin out of his cave to unwittingly face Triad gangsters and antiques smugglers.
Wayward Baptist ministers, adulterous accountants, and eco-warrior backpackers follow in the footsteps of the no-less colourful characters than those that feature in the original tales.
Each pair of stories is accompanied by a commentary on how they might be interpreted. The result is a gripping collection of tales that may continue to bring the mystery and magic of the Nights to life, as well as provoking fresh thought and feeling for adult readers. Prepare to be surprised, uplifted and–in the spirit of the original Arabian Nights Entertainments–enthralled.
A journalist had picked up on the news of Todd’s arrest, and by some means had been able to identify him as a Baptist pastor. Soon, the news of my husband’s escapade with the prostitute had made not only the front page of the Louisville Courier-Journal, but had carried across the state to Lexington too. I dreaded to think what the decent people of our church would say when they saw the photograph of their pastor being paraded in front of a police identification plate.
When we returned to Lexington, most people seemed to want to avoid mentioning the topic. It was obvious to me that they had been deeply unsettled by Todd's indiscretion, but to our faces at least, they promised their love, assuring us that ours is a God of love, able to forgive every sinner–even a wayward minister.
Todd was not afraid to show his contrition before his flock. Were Oscars awarded for emotional outpouring by those in church ministry, Todd would surely be nominated for an award. Whether or not his tears were genuine I do not know, but he certainly gave a powerful example of how to show repentance when he took his place on the dais.
“O my Father, how I have failed you! How I have let these, my beloved brothers and sisters, down! Forgive me, for I am the worse among sinners!”
His cries and wailing knew no limit. Kneeling before the congregation, Todd accepted the prayers and blessings of the people. Two of the deacons laid hands on him, commanding the demons that were in him to depart.
Perhaps this display was good for our community. Other men in the congregation came forward to confess their infidelity, and to receive the forgiveness of the Lord Jesus and those of us who serve Him. In fact, I don't think that our church had for a long time felt so overcome by the love and warmth of The Holy Spirit.
The experience had certainly been a shock for Todd. He knew that his position as a pastor would be under threat were he to backslide again. More than anything, I think that he was genuinely aware that he’d been unfaithful to his Lord.
He had been unfaithful to me too, and privately I went through a period of hurt and suffering. But the fast pace of events, and Todd’s apparent regret for his actions, kept me focused on supporting my husband.
Arabian Nights & Arabian Nights is Clive Johnson’s seventh book, and the second in the series that takes old and often familiar tales and retells them alongside modern-day versions. Taking this approach, Clive says that he aims to recapture some of the magic and important messages that can be found in traditional fairytales, stories from mythology, etc, while inspiring fresh wonder among adult readers.
His earlier books were aimed at business readers, and he’s also edited an anthology of interfaith wisdom. Recently, Clive has also started narrating and producing audible audiobooks for other authors, which is an activity that he says he particularly enjoys.
Clive spends most of his time in the UK, where he was born, although he has no fixed home. This allows him to follow his heart from place to place, often house and pet sitting for friends and others who are taking a break away. He also often takes in or hosts retreats and workshops on various themes. Many house sits introduce him to some wonderful furry friends, and provide the perfect opportunity for settling into some serious writing!
Having an autistic condition and with a strong interest in mysticism, Clive likes to approach his work with a keen curiosity. He says that he enjoys researching and imagining a story almost as much as he does writing it.
Clive is an avid reader, and an ordained interfaith minister.
Goodreads ✯ Twitter ✯ Facebook ✯ Amazon ✯ Website
Please note: This giveaway is being run by the author and will only run from Oct 17-21
MoB Promotions
ONCE UPON A MIDNIGHT Box Set
ONCE UPON A MIDNIGHT
Genre: Paranormal Romance
ALL PROCEEDS BENIFIT THE EPILEPSY FOUNDATION
Just in time for Halloween
20 New York Times, USA Today & Amazon Bestsellers deliver one sizzling anthology to meet all your romantic heat requirements. Jam-packed with alpha males, paranormal hotties, vampires, werewolves, shifters, Greek Gods & More. This limited edition set is sure to be THE box set of the year, so don't miss out!
20 New York Times, USA Today & Amazon Bestsellers deliver one sizzling anthology to meet all your romantic heat requirements. Jam-packed with alpha males, paranormal hotties, vampires, werewolves, shifters, Greek Gods & More. This limited edition set is sure to be THE box set of the year, so don't miss out!
Amazon US ✯ Amazon Int'l ✯ B&N ✯ iTunes ✯ Goodreads
Dakota Cassidy - Fangs Of Anarchy: Forbidden Alpha
Worlds and forbidden love collide when vampire biker Irish McConnell and werewolf librarian, Claire Montgomery hunt for a killer.
Stephanie Rowe - Dark Wolf Rising (Heart of the Shifter)
Shifter Cash Burns vanished from her life ten years ago, but when an assassin closes in on Brynn McKenzie, Cash is her only chance to stay alive.
Renee George - A Shade of Midnight (Midnight Shifters Book 4)
With the lives of her two loves on the line, will Mina be forced out of the light of her new life and back into the shade of her past?
Melanie James - Fur Ever Yours
The Fates etched Rafe & Mina's destiny in stone long ago. Now, one twisted wolf seeks to destroy them both. Will he succeed or will Mina and Rafe's bond be strong enough to survive?
Claudy Conn - Lady X
Lady X has to escape her Dark Warlock father. To do so, she travels into the past and slams into a hunky wizard with an agenda.
Toni Aleo - Broken Pieces
From the moment Oceanus von Stein, second-in-command to the Patchwork family, caught sight of Taegan Conner, daughter of the leader of the Wolves, he knew he would never love another. Only now, she has been promised in marriage to another, an arrangement to strengthen her family's alliances--and she gets no say in the matter. Can they find a way to be together, or will they both always be two Broken Pieces?
Kelly Cozzone - Fated by Fire
Gareth Cadell fights to save the survival of his red dragon clan. He -didn't expect to find his soul mate in the process. Can he end up saving them both?
Tracey Jane Jackson - Bound by Secrets
Brodie has waited centuries for his mate and Payton is more than he could have ever expected, particularly when she challenges him at every turn.
A.D. Justice - The Grudge
Two brothers. Best friends. Immortals. One woman - the subject of their mutual obsession. Immortals can hold a grudge for a very long time.
Julia Mills - The Fate of Her Dragon
Sleepless nights, a man haunting her every thought, his voice calling, begging, needing...her...
Not even the Universe has the answers and time is running out...
The Fate of her dragon may be the death of them all!
Gena D. Lutz -- Created Darkly, a Kris Chase novel
Necromancer Kris Chase's purpose is simple. Blindly raise the dead for the primary elite, selfnecro-governed group, the Center. The problem is, she couldn't care less about what the Center expects from her. Instead, she is more content with snuffing out the life-force from every vile creature she can get her hands on; the same monsters her brethren indiscriminately create... for the right price.
Diane Rinella -- Moonlight Serenade
Instead of leading Dale to the woman of his dreams, a psychic guides him to a lucky charm--Glenn Miller's guitar pick. Does the key to Dale's happiness lie with the famous bandleader or the deceased rocker of the same name? Maybe the ghost in the grey fedora knows ...
Aubree Lane -- Catamount Ridge
Exactly what’s happening up on Catamount Ridge was a mystery, but with the mountain lions acting so strange, it fell Jessie and Derek to track down the elusive beasts. The cats odd behavior was troublesome, but Jessie has a bigger problem on her hands. For in the light of day, Derek seems far more dangerous than any normal mountain lion.
A.K. Michaels -- The Black Rose Chronicles, Deceit and Lies
The Black Rose is a highly trained assassin. Her newest assignment is the mysterious, enigmatic and deadly Vampire, Cassius Allarde and she has to decide if he warrants her execution. Will she survive her meeting with the mighty Vampire?
PM Briede -- The Fate of Demons
Her entire reality is threatened when Octavia Howard is forced to work with the one creature she fights to protect her home from, demons.
Jami Brumfield -- Bear-i-licious Cowboy
Ashlee has given up on love, despite her best friend's insistence that she get back into the game. When she is forced to attend a dating mixer she discovers a world that was hidden from her, a dangerous world full of supernatural creatures she never imagined were real. Tucker is an alpha bear more concerned with protecting his pack than finding a mate, but his goddess has other plans and forces him to choose a woman to call his own.
Amanda Washington - Lucky Blow
When an enslaved demigod earns her freedom, but loses the one thing that matters more, she'll have to join forces with an old flame and steal from a cast of powerful gods to get it back.
Wynter Daniels -- Spirited Seduction
Ryan's murdered sister's ghost appears to him to warn him that her friend Emily will be next. Emily shunned her psychic abilities after she became the target of a killer while working with the police years ago, but she can't ignore her friend's dire message from beyond the grave. Despite their differences, passion sizzles between the couple until sinister, unseen forces threaten to tear them apart forever. *previously published
Nicole Garcia - Reckless Descent
Will one fallen angel's drastic mistake result in spending the rest of his eternal life in damnation, or will he be set free from the shackles of Hell and finally experience the love he has always been waiting for?
Michele E. Gwynn -- Darkest Communion
Torn from his beloved by jealousy, and cursed to walk the night alone for eight-hundred lonely years, a dark and twisted love triangle comes full circle in Bucharest, Romania for a vampire, a gypsy, and the woman they both desire.
Amazon US ✯ Amazon Int'l ✯ B&N ✯ iTunes ✯ Goodreads
MoB Promotions
