Sheritta Bitikofer's Blog, page 16

Beast Within Pre-Order Live!

It’s finally happening! I’ve been wanting to release this book for a while and it’s been nearly a year in the making, but it’s finally coming to Amazon and Kindle Unlimited! Super excited! If you’re a fan of The Enigma and Becoming the Enigma, you’ve got to continue in this epic series with Beast Within! (I drool over this cover, by the way) It’s going to go LIVE on July 15th! Preorder now so it will be sent directly to your ereader!

Beast Within on Amazon!

[image error]Becoming a loup-garou—a werewolf—is never easy. It’s especially hard if you’re still in high school, the first female to survive the transformation, and the embodiment of an ancient prophecy, expected to bring peace to warring factions. But Katey McCoy, even more stubborn and rebellious than she was as a human, has the comfort and support of her pack. Or so she thought, until she discovers they’ve been keeping secrets from her. At least she still has her mate, Logan Keith on her side. But Logan is fighting demons of his own. If he can’t learn to control the wolf within, how can he ever be a worthy alpha and mate to Katey?

Then the hunters come, assassins determined to exterminate the loup-garou. Her pack insists Katey stay hidden. Safe. But that’s not in her nature. Isn’t this what she was born for? To protect and aid the loups-garous? On the run and in a battle for their lives, Katey’s new world begins to crumble around her. With werewolves, vampires, and human hunters at war, and Logan distracted by his own battles, how can Katey activate her full potential and fulfill her ancient destiny?

Their world—and the lives of those they love—depend on them. If Katey and Logan are to withstand this final onslaught, they must each embrace their true powers and learn to control the beast within. If they can’t, no one may survive.

Check out these amazing teasers!

Sneak Peek into my latest WIP

So, I just finished up a part of a project. There’s still a long road ahead of me, but I feel like I’m actually getting somewhere now.

Just to recap, The Enigma is available on Amazon, and so is the second book in the series, Becoming the Enigma. The third book, Beast Within, will be up for preorder soon and I’ll post the preorder link as soon as I’ve got it.

But, for those who are getting into the series, you’ll be excited to hear that I’ve got something else in the works. If you’ve been reading my Loup-Garou series, you’ve been introduced to a bunch of awesome characters. Darren, Dustin, Ben, Logan, Forrest, Erik, Gregory, Michael, John, and many more to come that will make their debut in Beast Within. I’ve dropped MANY hints about their histories, like how some of the guys were on the Titanic and Logan’s rough dealings in Chicago during prohibition. Well, I won’t leave my readers hanging because I love y’all and want to immerse you in this universe I’ve created.

That’s why I’ve come up with a 17 (maybe 18) part novella series to explain EVERYONE’S backstories in greater detail. I’ll be working on these and releasing them starting in August. The original plan was to release a new one every month or so, but that may not happen so I won’t promise it. But I am working on them and they will continually roll out as I release the fourth book in the Loup-Garou series in January of 2018. Yes, I will be busy for a LONG time.

So, without further delay, let me give you a small taste of what you can expect from the first book of this novella series, The Legend.

The forest north of Wye was anything but quiet that night. He hadn’t known a moment of pure silence since his childhood years. From where he squatted under a sheltering oak, he could hear them all carry on around him as if nothing were wrong, as if an abomination like him never existed in their world.

The laughter of the townspeople in Wye was like a haunting reminder of everything he could never have. It was the first day of August, marking the first day of the harvest. He could imagine them all feasting on the fruit of their labors and celebrating in the Gule of August. If he breathed in deep enough, he could smell the freshly baked loaves of bread from the dinner tables of the families in Wye and in the surrounding farmlands. There was a time when he would have partaken in such festivities, but that time had long past and now his tongue may never know the rich enjoyment that a slice of bread and butter could bring to a tired and miserable creature.

Some distance away, separate from the celebration, he could hear a lone traveler snoring in his bed sack. He could hear the soft popping of the embers from a dying campfire and the savory smells of a beefy stew. His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he still had not eaten that evening. And as wonderful as the traveler’s stew smelled, it was what he needed.

An owl called into the darkness, as if asking the unanswered question of his life. Who… Who… Who are you?

He could not answer. For years, he had spent wandering in the proverbial darkness, lost in his own confusion of what life could afford for a lonely and cursed man like himself. All he did know was that life had little meaning anymore. The child who sat at the table with his family had a future. The traveler had a plan, somewhere to go and maybe someone’s arms to run to. But the man who crouched under the swaying leaves of the oak tree had nothing.

The sound he had been waiting for finally graced his ears. The frantic rustling of an animal in the deep brush of the forest. He sniffed, breathing in its fear. He took off, weaving through the tall elms and oaks whose branches shaded him from the moonlight.

When he found the fawn caught in a hunter’s trap, he ducked into the bushes so as not to alert his presence too soon. It tugged and twisted, but the noose-like knot around its ankle would not loosen for anything, not even its desperate attempts at escape. The grass and leaves around it had been scattered in its hasty efforts to regain its freedom.

Watching the animal, he wondered where its mother could be. Had she abandoned it? Or was the fawn alone in the wilderness? This was the first time he had come to find a deer so young ensnared this way. With the aid of its parent, it might have avoided such a fate.

If he had any mercy within him, he would have turned away and looked for a meal elsewhere. He could have even cut it loose so it could live another terrible day in a world that considered it to be nothing more than a beast to be killed and eaten. But he was not so merciful and the darkness within him needed to be fed.

Slowly, the demon took over his body. His nails grew into claws and his teeth elongated into carnivorous fangs that glinted in the moonlight. Eyes that were once a deep brown brightened into a golden hue that put the crown jewels to shame. His heartbeat pounded in his ears as his blood quickened at the sight of his intended meal. Nothing else mattered but this kill.

He approached the deer from behind, his bare feet silent in the lush grass. The fawn wasn’t even aware of him until it was too late. He grappled the head of the fawn and snapped the its neck with a sharp twist. He heard the bones crack and the fawn’s thin and gangly legs went still.

He breathed a prayer of thanks to the Lord above for the meal, an old habit that should have died with his humanity long ago. Then, he set to work on the trap and sliced through the cord with a flick of his sharp claw. Lifting the carcass over his shoulder with abnormal ease, he sped deep into the woods to begin his feast.

The demon within him rejoiced at the meal, but the human was disgusted. For every lamb, every cow, every deer, or small woodland critter that had met an ill fate at his hands, he died a little more inside. It was a wonder there was anything left of his sanity.

Even as he swallowed the raw, blood-riddled flesh of the fawn, he hated himself and what the demon had reduced him to. Fangs and claws slashed through the sinew and snapped the bones as if they were as brittle as a crust of bread. Blood drippled down his chin and tarnishing the cloth of his tunic.

Slowly, the maddening hunger subsided and the demon slipped away to let the man breathe easy once more. He lifted his head from the steaming belly of the fawn and regarded the bright stars that shined in the clear night sky. They were the witnesses to his beastly display and they would carry the message to God that he was unworthy of salvation. If only death would take him and send him to the lowest circle of hell that he was marked for. Then, perhaps, he would know peace again.

The world came back into focus as the demon receded from the forefront of his mind. He could hear the gentle snoring of the traveler and the happy chatter of the townspeople once more. But a new sound same to him that lured his attention away from the quarry he had stolen.

He listened to the harried voices. To the west and near the slow-moving river that snaked towards the town, there was a man, perhaps two, and a woman arguing. After living on the fringes of society for years, he had learned to distinguish the sex of passersby without the benefit of sight or sound. He needed only a sniff from downwind.

His hands went still over the mutilated fawn as he heard them scuffle on the banks. Robberies were nothing new. But from her feeble words of protest, he began to realize that this was no robbery of money or possessions. The men wanted something greater and with the wind, he could smell their carnal need for the woman. He recognized the scent. It was the same one that drift out of bawdyhouses in the cities and permeated the rooms of newlyweds. Those women gave themselves to men for money, power, or out of pure love. Yet, it was clear that she was not a willing giver.

Everything in his rational mind told him to leave the matter alone. It did not concern him. But when her scream pierced through the night, he was spurred into action.

He ran towards the distress, swifter than the flight of a hawk as it would swoop down to catch its prey.

When the shore of the river was in sight, he stalled and stayed in the sheltering shadows of the trees.

He didn’t need the moonlight to see the struggle taking place alongside the River Stour. The woman bravely resisted against the two men who were nearly twice her size. They were dressed in beggar’s clothes, loose-fitting garments stained by days spent in filthy, slothful living. Though he could not get a good view of the woman, he could feel her tenacity. She fought for her freedom with a ferocity that astonished him and endeared him to her plight.

He darted from the concealment of the bushes and crashed into the men, throwing them away from their victim with little effort. His inhuman strength could not have been used for anything more admirable than in saving the honor of a woman. With grunts and curses, the disoriented men scrambled to their feet, but he was upon them in seconds with is fangs and claws bared.

Their cries for help and mercy would go unanswered. He slashed into their throats and the last breaths of their pitiful lives gurgled forth. Blood spilled on the grassy shore of the Great River Stour and dribbled down to pollute its dark waters.

He stood over their bodies, their unblinking eyes staring up at him with horrific expressions, frozen in their last terrifying moments. They were not the first men he had killed and God knew that they would not be the last. It was his nature, something he could not control. But like the fawn, these kills were necessary. Any man who would force himself upon a woman was lower than even a mangy flea infested dog.

Without so much as a word to the lady, he turned and ran into the woods to flee. Surely, she would faint or scream and alert others to the sin he had committed. “Wait!” she called out to him, her feminine voice slowing his flight.

He heard the rustle of her skirts snagging on the brambles as she pursued him into the forest. He looked down to his hands and saw they were still caked in blood, both from the fawn and the men that he had killed. His clothes were tattered and tainted by his iniquity, hardly the sight that any lady should behold.

She approached, panting for air. It had been an immeasurable passage of time since he was in the company of a lady for more than a few moments. He immersed himself in her scent and listened to her strong, pounding heartbeat. She smelled of the forest, wood smoke, and pure womanhood with a hint of herbs like jasmine.

For a while, she said nothing. They simply shared the same space, a couple of yards apart from one another but it was enough to make his hands shake. The demon liked the woman without even knowing her and that should have been enough to convince him to run again. But he stayed. Why in God’s holy name did he stay?

She spoke, but he didn’t recognize the words. The sounds rolled off her tongue in a musical, lilting way that intrigued him. It wasn’t English, or even the uncommon barbaric language of the north. She spoke only two words, or perhaps it was one in her language. There was a distinct cadence of French, but the pronunciation was laced with something more foreign – more exotic.

She said it again with a hint of authority in her voice, as if she were demanding something of him. The demon responded to her and the coldness washed over his eyes. He knew now that they were golden, so he would not turn to face the lady. He was tired of frightening those who might have intended good will to him and he would not let the demon ruin this moment for him.

His hands curled into tight fists and he could feel the slickness of the blood on his skin. The woman spoke again, but the words were different now. She wanted something different.

He moved forward to run again, but she hurried to his side. He shied away into the shadows and finally let her see what he was. More than anything, he was curious to see what she looked like instead.

Golden eyes glared through the darkness, the moon’s glory reflecting back the demon that possessed his body and soul. The beast gazed upon the woman, who was not what he had expected her to be.

She stood some distance away, her darkened complexion declaring her foreign ancestry. She was not a slave, but neither was she a woman of status like the ladies of the royal court. Her coarse, ebony hair cascaded down her body in bounding waves while her dark eyes penetrated through to his condemned soul.

Her bare feet were set wide in a confident stance, hardly the posture of any respectable lady. A long and heavy skirt draped from her waist, obscuring any curves beneath. Yet, the collar of her blouse dipped low to expose soft skin. A wool vest hugged her breasts in place while golden rings adorned her ears. A bandana held back her hair from tumbling into her face as the winds whipped through the trees. Coins that hung from the cloth dotted her forehead, contrasting sharply with her dark skin and glittering in the moonlight.

Her brows knitted together as she looked upon him, but he sensed no fear in her. When she stepped forward, he stepped deeper into the shadows. A low, warning growl rumbled from his throat, but he would not bare his teeth at her like the animal that he was.

She shushed him, her full lips puckering as she came closer. He wanted to flee. He should have. But the longer he gazed into her eyes, so mystic and enrapturing, he found that he couldn’t move. She was beautiful and alluring beyond all reason. Never before had he seen a woman so entrancing.

The growl faded on her command and a new sound drifted through the air that sent his body into a panic.

The woman, whom he now knew was a gypsy, began to hum a sweet tune. He shuddered and his knees gave way beneath him. He collapsed to the ground under her spell.

“Away from me, witch,” he demanded.

They were the first words he had spoken to another soul in ages and he rejected her company. But there was no ignoring the way she made him feel. Defenseless, exposed, weak. His demon no longer liked her and for once, they were of one accord and wanted to flee from the woman.

But she would not let them. Her gypsy song floated through the air and wrapped itself around his head, making him dizzy and breathless.

She crouched down to him and her hands caressed his face, her fingers grazing over his beard and the blood that had dried upon his jaw.

Upon her touch, the demon quivered and withdrew, taking the golden eyes with him to make him look a little more like a man and less like a monster.

His chest heaved for air as tears wanted to spill from his eyes. This couldn’t have been a gypsy. She was an angel. Who else could wield such power over a man such as him? He had visited priests and begged for absolution, but none could provide. He had slept in the tombs of saints all across England, searching for reprieve from the darkness that encased his soul but he would always wake with the same sickening feeling in his gut that he was not cured. But this woman could control the demon, which no one could do; not even himself.

The corners of her lips tilted into a gentle smile, one fraught with pity and her song ended on a final note that lingered in his mind.

“Who are you?” he whispered. The words came out stuttered and clumsy as if he had forgotten how to speak.

She did not reply, but tucked a strand of unruly hair behind his ear to unveil some of his face. He reached up with an unsteady hand and grabbed her wrist, feeling the throbbing of her pulse in his palm.

“Who are you?” he repeated more urgently.

“It does not matter who I am,” she said and he could hear the heavy influence of French in her words. “What matters is that you are loup-garou and I need your help.”

He peered at her, his brown eyes narrowing upon her in bewilderment. Loup-garou? What was that?

“What is your name?” she asked.

Unlike her, he would not hesitate to give her what she wanted. He would give her anything after the miracle she had just performed. “John. John Croxen.”

What’s in the works?

So, life is getting busy in the Bitikofer household. Got books popping out the woodworks and juggling college homework at the moment. Anatomy and Earth Science is fascinating, let me just say that much.

But you might be wondering what’s all going on in my book world at the moment.

The Enigma was rereleased on May 13th! If you don’t have your copy, you’re gonna want to that get because Becoming the Enigma rerelease is coming June 10th! And guess what’s coming after that? You guessed it! Book three in the Loup-Garou Series, Beast Within, is going through its final edits and will be ready to launch in early July! As soon as I have the edits back, I’ll be posting the pre-order links. If you’re curious about the series, navigate to their pages up in the menu bar. You’ll find sneak peeks, teasers, a book trailer, and character pictures!

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Also, in about a month and a half, I’ll be making my first author signing event with For The Love of Books and Alcohol group in Sarasota Florida! Check out my Events page for more details how you can come meet me and get some cool goodies. I’ve got freebies for those who purchase books, a raffle giveaway in the works, and I’ll be showcasing the first three books of the Loup-Garou series all together for the first time. It’s gonna be epic!

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To stay up to date on all my news and the fun stuff that you can expect at the signing event, be sure to follow me on Facebook and Twitter!

Facebook Author Page

Amazon Author Page

Moonstruck Writing Fan Group

The Enigma: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0722MYMXH

Becoming the Enigma (Pre-Order): https://www.amazon.com/dp/B072FD2F47

Want the latest sneak peeks?

Want the latest sneak peeks into upcoming novels (and maybe a novella series *cough cough*) Follow me on Facebook and join my Facebook fan group! I post teasers and sneak peeks all the time! My blog is great, but I’m ALWAYS on Facebook so you have a better chance of hearing the latest news there! I also will be doing giveaways on Facebook takeovers pretty often and you’ll hear about those announcements on these pages. Y’all, I love giving away free stuff, so why wouldn’t you want to join?

Facebook Author Page
Moonstruck Writing Fan Group on Facebook

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The Enigma (Second Edition) is up for preorder!

In preparation for the release of the third book in my Loup-Garou series, coming this July, I decided to go back and revise The Enigma and Becoming the Enigma. Edits are still going through for the second book, but the second edition of The Enigma is up for preorder! Yay! If you read the first edition and you’re excited for the third book’s release, I would strongly recommend going back to read the second edition again. It’ll be available on Kindle and Kindle Unlimited, releasing 5-13! That’s this Saturday! Woo hoo!

[image error]  A graveyard late at night wouldn’t seem like the ideal place to meet someone. But for teenager Katey McCoy, that encounter with the handsome stranger with the striking blue eyes would alter her life in ways she’d never imagined.

Orphaned as an infant, bounced around foster homes, labeled as a discipline problem, and now under the thumb of an abusive foster mother, Katey’s been slipping deeper into depression. Who would want a girl with such an ugly face, an imperfect body, or wild hair? But Logan Keith knows the truth about Katey: she’s beautiful. Her flaws are in her head. Besides, he has issues, too. And a secret that could tear apart their growing relationship.

Logan is a werewolf—a loup-garou—with his own troubled past and a flaw that’s considered a handicap in his world. A secret, supernatural world he soon introduces Katey to. Although Logan longs to make Katey part of his pack, it may be impossible for them to be together. In his pack’s history, there’s never been a female werewolf. No woman has been able to survive the transformation. Will Logan’s desire give Katey the escape to a better life and the love she’s always dreamed of, or will he be signing her death warrant?

Preorder Here!
Free Chapter Sample Here!

Silver Screen is LIVE!!!

So, life has been crazy, but I wanted to remind everyone that Silver Screen was released a couple of weeks ago! Woo hoo! Have you got your copy yet? You should! It’s available on Kindle and Kindle Unlimited. Check out the lovely things my beta readers have said!

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If you’re intrigued, check out my newest sweet shifter Hollywood romance!

 

The Thief and the Mountain

I was commissioned to write a short story to introduce a theme for an SCA event this coming August and have been given permission to share it outside of the newsletter it will be published in. Hope you enjoy! It’s got a bit of the same flavor as “Amber Ashes”, so if you want to read more about this famous natural disaster, check out the Decimus Trilogy on Kindle, Nook, Kobo, iBooks, and other online retailers.

“Stop, thief!” the baker bellowed as the portly man rushed out of his shop.

Titus’s sandaled feet drummed against the stone-paved streets as he ran from the man he had stolen from. With his satchel securely strapped across his chest, his scrawny legs carried him far away from the bakery.

The street urchin weaved and ducked past the servants, politicians, and wealthy vacationers that crowded the walkway. To his left, carts rattled their way down the road, horses and donkeys hauling the loads of their merchant masters towards the forum. And that’s just where Titus was headed.         He dodged to the left and around the corner on his right, passing by the shopkeepers and their stands full of wares that would forever be out of his reach. Since childhood, he was forced to steal what he couldn’t find and take what wasn’t his – what would never be his.

Masons busily slapped their mortar against the stone edifices of many shops and homes that had been damaged during the earthquakes earlier that morning. Titus had been awakened by the tremors just hours before, but like the other citizens of the city, this was nothing new.

Ceramic shards littered the walkways where pottery had tumbled to the ground and when tables were shaken by the inexplicable forces of the earth. Roof shingles were replaced, damaged goods were discarded, and life went on as it always did.

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the baker was still not following him. When he turned back, he nearly collided with a beautiful woman clad in fine jewelry and silky garments that called to his manhood.

She smiled sweetly as he skidded to a stop just outside her place of business. The lady was not alone that day as her companions gathered around the entrance to the brothel.

“Running again, Titus?” she giggled.

Titus straightened his tattered and stained tunic and gave her a crooked grin. “Always running,” he replied.

She batted her thick eyelashes and turned as if to welcome him inside where other patrons were already getting their monies worth.

“There he is! Get him!”

Titus turned to see a pair of Roman guards, their breast armor glinting in the afternoon sun. He gave a regretful look to the lady and resumed his flight.

Through the din of the crowds, he could hear the guards approaching, their heavy swords and armor clanging together like resounding gongs to announce their presence to the populace. Titus, on the other hand, did not have such burdens to weigh him down and his appearance could allow him to blend with the masses.

The city was a metropolis of wealth and luxury. The ports to the west brought in exotic treasures from across the Roman empire and the merchants who traveled there were more than happy to sell the populace their textiles and goods. Politicians and nobility came here to escape their troubles by lounging in their decadent villas, surrounded by servants and slaves. Yet, in the presence of such indulgence, there was also great scarcity for those who were not lucky enough to be born into their status.

He came to the marketplace and temple of the Lares. He paused in reverence for the brick structure that was still being constructed by the master craftsmen. It was commissioned after the great earthquake to appease the gods of protection over the homes of the citizens. It was in that earthquake that Titus was born, just seventeen years prior. The ground had shaken many times since that day, but no greater calamity had befallen the city to compare.

As he turned the corner to step onto the forum grounds, he passed his hand over the columns and uttered a hasty prayer of thanks. Whether by his own strength or the benevolence of the gods, he had survived the disaster when others didn’t. He drew strength from it and knew that no matter what this city threw at him, he would live on.

In the forum, philosophers and merchants alike congregated on the spacious green expanse to discuss business and politics of their growing empire. A slave auction was conducted on the far end, souls from the far south and barbaric north shackled in chains to be sold to the highest bidder. All of this while pious worshippers flocked to the great Temple of Jupiter to pay their respects to the mighty god.

Titus slowed his steps as he came to the meeting place. The guards must have still been scratching their heads in the marketplace, searching for the inconspicuous peasant who had eluded them.

Publicized on one of the walls facing towards the forum was an announcement to the populace. On this day, to further celebrate the Feast of Vulcan, a great tournament would take place in the amphitheater. If his friend didn’t meet him soon, he would miss the gladiators who had traveled all the way from Verona to perform. He even heard rumors that a lion from the southern edges of the empire was to appear.

“Titus!”

He turned to regard his friend, another poor son of the streets, as he came forward with a smile and wave. They clasped arms as brothers and Titus pulled out one of the bread loafs from his satchel.

“Here is your bread, as promised, Quintus.”

Quintus, a boy a few years younger than Titus, took the bread with dirty hands and nodded his thanks. “Mother and the others will be glad for this.”

Titus opened his mouth to inquire about Quintus’ family until he heard the unmistakable clatter of Roman armor enter the forum. He turned and saw the soldiers scanning the assembly. This was a place for public communion, but it was not a sanctuary.

He grabbed his friend by the shoulders and directed him to the south, towards the town council building and Hall of Duoviri. “Run!” he commanded.

The boy bolted into the crowd, his spry young legs carrying him far from the danger and towards home where he belonged.

Titus, likewise, darted to the east and chose the street that would lead him straight to the amphitheater. If he could evade the guards one more time, perhaps they would give up their search for the petty thief and turn their efforts to other matters.

Two or three story homes and villas lined the streets with wooden balconies that loomed over the pedestrians. Peeking through some of the open doors, Titus could see the vibrant mosaics in the tile floor or beautifully painted frescos on the walls of the vestibules. Roman art at its finest.

Passing restaurants and drinking taverns, the aromas of multitudinous foods and delicacies wafted past his nostrils. His belly growled at him, angry that it hadn’t been filled since the evening before. Just a little farther and he could rest.

He knew a public drinking fountain was close by, but when he came to it, Titus found it to be dry, just like the fountain on the other side of the city. He would have to quench his thirst later.

He passed one of the public baths as patrons were passing in and out of its great arched entryway. The pungent perfume of the oils filled his senses and he sighed, adoring their aroma. One day, he would go in and wipe away the filth of street life, but it would not be this day.

Titus’ eyes drifted to the buildings, some already mended from the quake and others in desperate need of attention; but he was not interested in the cracks that scarred the stone. He read the imprudently scrawled phrases and pictures. Some were humorous or obscene, but some were profound and were not covered by tapestries or potted plants to hide their existence.

For Titus, they were more than careless scribblings by other adolescents, drunkards, lovers, or philosophers. They were proof of their presence here. He had left his own mark on the outer city walls.

A generally uneducated man by fate, his mother praised him for the thoughtful prose that he brought to life in the quiet moments of his day when he wasn’t running for his life or digging for edible compost in the waste of the wealthy men who visited the city.

He carved the letters his father had taught him into the stone, leaving an impression on the city that would never be forgotten. Years, perhaps centuries from now, as long as that wall was still standing, the people would read it and know his struggle for life.

He heard the shouts of the spectators before he spotted the great amphitheater towering above the city skyline with its massive walls. It was one of the places that were open to all walks of life. Anyone, even a thief like himself, could pass through the gates and forget who they were for a short while as they watched the trained gladiators battle for the glory of applause.

He hustled forward to find a vacant seat and squeezed between a man draped in a toga and a woman in a bright red stola with jewels drooping from her ears and around her neck. Here he was, a peasant with stolen bread, sitting between two Romans of high status. Only in the amphitheater.

Titus pulled the other loaf of bread from his satchel and dug his teeth into the warm crust, savoring the rich taste as he chewed and swallowed.

Below, on the sandy stadium floor, two gladiators brandished their weapons and circled one another. One held a gladius, a short sword that he craftily spun in his palm. The other wielded a trident with menacing sharp tips. In his other hand was a net, much like a fisherman would use to reel in his catch.

The audience cheered for their favorite fighter, pounding their fists into the air in joy and woe as the battle raged on.

It took only moments before the fisherman was on his back, bleeding and immobile from his wounds. The victor looked to the sponsor as the crowded shouted their own verdict. “Iugula!” they screamed, calling for his execution.

With his mouth full of bread, Titus turned to the sponsor and anxiously waited for the gesture that would save or sacrifice the warrior.

But the order would never come.

The ground began to tremble, rocking the spectators from their seats. Titus looked to the east, beyond the city walls and to the mountain known as Vesuvius. Titus held tight to his half-eaten loaf of bread, but the wealthy man beside him was jostled and nearly fell into the thief’s lap.

The bread slipped from his grasp and toppled down the stadium seats, falling well out of reach.

But the bread was the least of his worries anymore.

Titus watched as the slopes of the mountain became steeper, converging upwards until the pressure became too much. The top of the mountain exploded, spewing a column of dark clouds higher and higher into the sky.

The Romans of Pompeii gawked at the sight of it. Women ceased their cooking and washing to step into the streets. Men turned away from their companions and conversations were ended. Servants, young and old, stopped in their daily tasks to wonder what they had just heard. Children cried and clung to their mother’s stolas in fear. Even the gladiators below turned and dropped their weapons as the mountain erupted. The clouds slowly crept across the clear blue sky, veiling the sun, and cast a darkness over the land.

As Titus stared, jaw slack and eyes wide, he hoped that his quick prayer to the gods had been heard. He would need them this day.

New Release! Silver Screen Available April 29th

It’s finally here! Pre-order your copy of Silver Screen today and stay tuned for teasers and [image error]a book trailer coming in the next few weeks!

Kindle: http://amzn.to/2mYVsg4

Nook: http://bit.ly/2mcGsN0

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2nxkm83

 Print:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2n7Y23L

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2mYOmZ4

Blurb: When Josie Carter found out she would be the head makeup artist for the famous Rodney Bator, it was hard not to be a little star struck. Working on her first big movie picture was a dream for the small town girl from Arkansas. But, her natural passion for acting has been pushed aside for many years now after the accident that killed her eldest sister. Seeing life through the lens of that tragedy had made her apprehensive to accept anything good, including the kindness and love of the incredible actor she worked with every day.

All Rodney every wanted in life was to prove to other werewolves, like himself, that it was possible to live in the midst of humans and not have to worry about discovery. The old world superstitious ways were a thing of the past, but he still knew many of his kind that lived in hiding – including his own father. Sure that his message was only enraging the alphas of the world, Rodney was ready to hang up his actor hat and settle down. And he knew just who he wanted to settle down with.

Ok, I couldn’t resist. Here’s one teaser because I love my followers:

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“Passions” Available for Pre-Order (Remastered)

Passions is now available Kindle, Nook, and Kobo! It will also be available on iBooks and Google Play and in print at various online retailers like Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Books-A-Million! Release date is 3-31. For those of you who have already read Passions, I’m sure you recognized that there was a huge blunder on Chapter 6. This has been fixed! Go check it out! And you haven’t read this steamy vampire romance yet, here are some teasers to entice you.

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06XHDVN4R

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/passions-sheritta-bitikofer/1125936425

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/passions-16

Advisory Notice For My Readers

There’s lots of exciting stuff in the works! Since I’m re-launching all of my novels under my new imprint “Moonstruck Writing”, some books are going to disappear from Amazon. Don’t freak out! They will show back up! A couple of examples are “The Enigma”, “Becoming the Enigma” and “The Princess and Her Rogue”. All three of these novels are in the process of getting re-worked and their re-launch dates have been updated on their designated pages here on my blog.

“The Enigma” will be re-launching on May 6th

“Becoming the Enigma” will be re-launching on June 3rd

“The Princess and Her Rogue” will be re-launching sometime in 2018, but I don’t have a solid date yet.

The biggest reason for these re-works is to gear up for my book signing tour between 2017 and 2018. I’ll be advertising which events I’ll be attending within the next few weeks. I’m still waiting to hear back from a few people, so the list will continue to grow!

Also, if you have read any of these books in the past, you’ll want to check out the re-launch editions before the release of “Beast Within” in late June. Subtle changes to the plot and edits will be made and I’m confident that the overall product will be a huge improvement on the origin release.

In the meantime, we’ve got a new re-lease and a BRAND NEW release coming out within the next couple of months, so stay tuned to my blog and Facebook pages for updates. If you need those links, here they are:

Sheritta Bitikofer Author Facebook Page

Moonstruck Writing with Sheritta Bitikofer Fan Group

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