Naughty Netherworld Press's Blog: Naughty Netherworld Press on Goodreads, page 12
June 30, 2025
Taken By the Huldra Teaser Tuesday #rabtbooktours
Paranormal Romance, Capture Fantasy
Date Published: July 4, 2025
A Huldra and a human collide in the forest…
Hunter came to Eerie to give up on his life. Nothing’s gone right and he’s ready to quit. Then he sees the most beautiful woman in the world, but she wants him dead. Talk about bad luck. Until he meets Annika, a Huldra -- a Norse protector – and the woman he can’t seem to forget.
Unlike her twin sister Runa, who wants only to destroy, Annika is a nurturing spirit. The moment she sees Hunter she has to save him from her homicidal sister. He’s too pretty to kill, but he’s got a secret. He’s not solely human, although he doesn’t know what paranormal blood runs through his veins.
If he can survive Runa’s wrath, the scars of his past, and allow himself to have a future with Annika, he might find the best things in life aren’t exactly what they seem -- they’re better.
“I’ve had enough.” Hunter Hallahan drove past the line separating the town boundary of Eerie from the rest of the world. To anyone who didn’t have a drop of paranormal blood, the road went through untouched woodlands. Unlike most beings, he had the very cells permitting him to be there -- paranormal blood. More specifically, shifter blood. By the time he’d cropped up on the family tree, the strain of paranormal magic coming down to him had been diluted enough he wasn’t able to shift.
Didn’t matter to him.
He had the keen senses of the wolf -- sharp hearing, keen eyesight, a sixth sense to detect danger, and lightning-fast reflexes. His abilities to read other beings had served him well. They had in the past.
Not now.
He’d read Sally so wrong. He’d thought she loved him. Thought she wanted to be together forever. All she’d wanted was a boyfriend for now. He flexed his hands on the steering wheel and drove straight to the woods. His eyes burned from shedding too many tears over her. Her words burned into his brain.
“Oh, honey. You’re good for now, but you’re not marriage material. You’re a mongrel.”
How could someone say those things?
No, he knew how they could. She wanted to get back at her now-fiancé. Making him jealous got her a bigger diamond. Got her attention. Got her the house in the suburbs with the large yard and the chance at having kids.
He’d never be able to give her children.
He turned onto the gravel road leading deeper into the woods.
When he’d set out for Eerie, he hadn’t planned on going to the forest, but the second he crossed the city limits, he’d been drawn here. He couldn’t even explain it. Like the car was being driven by itself.
Impossible.
Yes, he had magic, and Eerie was full of spells, magic and everything else paranormal, but the car wasn’t driving itself. He wasn’t rich enough to have one of those vehicles. This was something different.
Something stronger.
He continued farther into the woods, shocked by the darkness. This wasn’t his first time venturing into the forests of Eerie. The area that hid the town appeared to be only a few hundred acres on a map. But that was the magic of Eerie. It might not appear big, but once one started exploring, the place was huge.
As he drove, he noticed a woman walking among the trees. Seeing someone in the woods wasn’t strange. The fact the woman wore a filmy dress and had flowing blonde hair was the eye-catching part. He slowed his pace and cast a longer glance at her. Her pale skin practically seemed transparent. Gods, if a stiff breeze blew through, she’d fall over. She had no meat on her bones.
Some might find her gorgeous. She had that stick-thin look going for her, with more bones than curves. She cut a striking figure among the trees.
He liked women with a little more curve.
The woman rushed up to him. “Come to me.”
Part of him wanted to. Just stop the vehicle, leave, and follow her. The rational part of his brain refused to comply. This had to be a spell. Had to be something to bring him to his doom.
Except he’d initially set out for Eerie with the plan to end his life. He’d thought that was what he wanted, but he’d never followed through with his spur-of-the-moment intentions. Gods, he’d loved Sally, but she wasn’t worth him doing something so drastic. Never had been.
The woman stopped in front of his car and pointed to him, then crooked her finger. “Come with me.”
He flicked the button to lock the car. Why in Hades had he done that? If this was magic, she could come into his vehicle despite the damn locks.
“Come with me,” she repeated. Then the woman winked.
As she did, he collided with something hard. Not just hard, but immediate. He rocked forward, smacking his face into the airbag. The wind rushed from his lungs, and he groaned. His limbs ached. What in Hades had just happened?
He blinked to clear his vision. Smoke wafted through the air and the bag deflated.
“Odin’s sake.” The door opened and a person reached into the car.
When he looked at the speaker, his blood chilled. “You’re determined to get me to come with you.” The woman who’d pointed to him was yanking him from the vehicle. “I’m not going with you.”
“If you know what’s good for you, you will.” The woman, almost too thin to be manhandling him, tugged him free of the seat belt. “You’re dying, you fool.”
“Dying?” He’d come to the woods to do himself in but hadn’t wanted to -- not for real. “How?”
“You hit the fucking tree.” She hauled him against her body. “Come on. Use your legs -- or are they broken?”
“I don’t know.” His brain swam. “I’ve got to be concussed.”
“Probably.” She grunted, then tossed him against the side of the car. She waved her hand across his forehead and spoke words he couldn’t understand. Her brow crinkled and her green eyes flashed. Her mouth twisted into a frown. “Can you walk now?”
He hadn’t bothered to try. He stared at her. She looked a lot like the woman who’d called to him, yet nothing like her. After a moment, his brain cooperated, and he forced his legs to move. “Yes,” he managed. He allowed her to slide her arm around him. “What happened?”
“I’ll explain in a moment.” She fumbled across the underbrush to a large tree. When she knocked on the tree, a hunk of the bark opened like a door. “In here.” She didn’t give him a chance to argue. Instead, she shoved him into the tree before closing the door behind her.
“What’s going on?” He leaned against the wall. “I’m so confused. I’ve got to be concussed.”
“You probably are.” She raked her hair back from her face. “You’d better thank your lucky stars I got there in time.”
“Why?” He understood so little.
“That woman who called to you? That’s my twin sister,” she said. “That’s some bad magic you don’t want to mix yourself up in.”
“Jealous?” He’d tried for a bad joke, but it hadn’t worked. “I’m sorry. I don’t get it.”
She flipped a switch, sending light across the space. “Here.” She helped him to a chair. She knelt in front of him, then stared at him before tipping her head. “I get it.”
“I’m glad you do, because I don’t.” He didn’t like riddles or misdirects. “What’s going on?”
“You crashed your car into a tree.”
“I did? I didn’t see anything in front of me.” He’d destroyed his car? Fuck.
“That was the point.”
“What?”
She sighed and folded her arms before sitting back on her heels. “What brought you to Eerie? You’re here, so you must have magic. Why are you here?”
Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.
When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.
Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress
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The Rivers Will Run Red New Release Blitz #IndiGo
Title: The Rivers Will Run Red
Series: House of Drǎculeşti
Author: Keira North
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: 07/01/2025
Heat Level: 1 - No Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 81100
Genre: Paranormal, urban fantasy, dark, supernatural, immortal, vampires, shifters, werewolves, merfolk, MLM romance, found family, nonbinary character, Transylvania, Romania, Romanian mythology, folklore, #ownvoices: Romanian author, #ownvoices: nonbinary author
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DescriptionIn the wake of a devastating attack by a rogue coven of vampires, hunter-turned-werewolf Ileana returns to the ruins of her family home. Believing her sister, Tamara, survived the attack, Ileana seeks the help of Liviu, the werewolf who turned her, and Evdochia, a hauntingly powerful vampire descended from Vlad Țepeș himself.
The attack is the first strike in a looming war threatening the fragile truce between humans and mythical nightwalkers. With time slipping away and danger closing in from all sides, Ileana and her allies must race to find Ravenswatch, the ancient fortress where the vampire coven is preparing to strike again.ExcerptThe Rivers Will Run RedKeira North © 2025All Rights Reserved
Girl Who Cried Wolf
“When the blood moon rises, beware of the pricolici.”— From the wisdom of werewolf hunters in Crișana-Banat
“It’s here, I swear,” Luca said. “Just a little farther.”
With a small nod, Ileana said, “Uh-huh.”
Her companion couldn’t see that, of course. He was already charging ahead through the underbrush, so she had no choice but to follow, pulling her ratty cardigan tighter around her bony shoulders. She was all of thirteen and outgrowing her old clothes faster than she could get new hand-me-downs. Whatever survived her nightly escapades usually found its way to her younger sister, Tamara, much to the latter’s chagrin.
Luca didn’t need to worry about the cold. He wore a thick, fur-padded coat that molded perfectly to his slim body. A boy of fifteen, more nimble than strong and taller than Ileana by a head, his hair was wheat-colored and unruly, and he had piercing blue eyes and thick brows that made him look like he was always frowning. Ileana felt a strange flutter in her stomach whenever he looked her way. She wanted him to look at her but also not, and she found the whole thing equal parts vexing and confusing.
Luca was already blooded too. On a family hunting trip to the southern reaches of Oltenia, he’d found and killed a moroi, a risen dead who’d been walking around for so long it was more bone than corpse. Luca talked about it like he’d offed the great Impaler himself. Still, his one kill trumped Ileana’s none.
Despite the full moon crossing the night sky somewhere above, the jumble of branches overhead cast a dense shroud over the sodden, uneven ground. Where Luca moved with the sure step of a journeyman hunter, Ileana had to stop and feel her way around tree stumps and patches of half-melted snow, pushing her long bangs out of her face every other step. Her hair was a dark, muddy brown in the sunlight. Here, under the canopy, it was black, and thick, and annoying.
“C’mon!” Luca shouted from somewhere ahead.
She walked faster, or at least as fast as her skinny legs could carry her. Where Luca was growing like a weed, Ileana was more of the short persuasion. For now, she’d tell herself whenever she looked in the mirror, standing on tiptoe and tilting her chin up.
A soft patch of earth gave way under her foot. With a startled yell, she fell forward, arms flailing in search of something to stop her fall. She felt a sting across the back of her right hand when she scraped it against the rough bark of a tree, but at least she’d stopped herself before she tumbled forward and scraped her knees too. Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes, swiftly followed by shame. She sniffled and bit her lower lip. Cradling her injured hand with her good one, she scurried ahead.
Soon, the trees dwindled away and the ground sloped gently downward toward a small pond, its ragged edges obscured by a dense thicket of cattails and pickerel weeds. With nothing to blot it out, the moon shone bright, its light tracing sparkling ripples across the water.
Pretty, Ileana thought.
And then, stealing a glance at her companion, He’s pretty too.
Luca was waiting for her by the water, toying with his hunting knife, his hair shimmering like threads of spun gold. He caught her eye and grinned wide, tossing the knife up in the air. He caught it by the tip, then tossed it again, catching it by the handle this time. The blade flashed in the moonlight. It looked like silver. Good for werewolves and basilisks, Ileana’s mind supplied, a rote response. She had her own knife stashed away in her boot, but the blade was steel, not silver. She rarely parted with it these days. Like a real hunter.
“Over there,” Luca said, turning away from her to wave his hand toward whatever they’d come here to find.
Ileana turned to follow the line of his finger to where he was pointing. She spotted a storm drain on the other side of the pond, an old, battered thing with bits of rebar poking through the crumbling concrete. She’d ventured inside a few times over the years. The way was barred by a sturdy metal grill some twenty paces in, but that hadn’t stopped her from pretending she was descending deep into another realm in search of glimmering treasure and forbidden magick. That was all make-believe, though, and she was done with it now that she was well on her way to being a grown-up. Hunters didn’t waste their time with make-believe. They found it, and they killed it.
“What’s there?” she asked.
“It’s a wolf,” the boy said, “and I’m gonna kill it.”
A gust of wind tickled them from the side, poking through Ileana’s cardigan and the flimsy shirt underneath. She stuck her hands deep into her pockets, hissing as the wound on the back of her hand scraped against the rough fabric.
“A wolf?” she said, her eyes flicking back to the drain. “Just the one?”
“Maybe it got lost, I dunno.”
“So how do you know it’s a wolf?” Ileana pressed. “It could be just a stray dog or—”
“Because I saw it, all right? Earlier, when I was…” The boy’s face twisted in a scowl that was more comical than angry.
“When you were, what?”
“Gramma sent me looking for frogs again.” He shuffled his foot.
Ileana snorted a laugh. “So, the mighty hunter went out to whack some toads with a stick. How’d you fare on that perilous adventure?”
“They taste good, okay? And, and anyway, that’s not—it doesn’t matter. I know there’s a wolf in there, and I’m gonna kill it and make something from its pelt.”
“You’re going to kill the wolf with a knife?” Ileana said, her left eyebrow quirking higher than the right one. “They’re stronger than humans, y’know. Faster too.”
“Don’t be stupid, Leana. This is what I’m gonna kill it with.” Speaking, Luca pulled aside his woolen coat enough to show her the revolver tucked into his waistband.
Ileana had seen that gun before, on an ornate plaque above the mantelpiece in Luca’s ancestral home on the other side of the hill. She’d asked one of her cousins to hold her up so she could look at it once, when she was smaller, and she remembered it clearly. The grip was silver with intricate bone inlays, a relic of a time when craftsmanship was still a thing. Luca’s family could trace their lineage all the way back to Aron Vulpe—Aron the Fox—the famed hunter who’d driven the vampires of the Țepeș clan from the hillsides of Crișana-Banat and into the far reaches of the Carpathian Mountains. Three hundred years later, their coffers still ran deep.
“Does your dad know you took that?” she asked, a hint of unease tinging her words. She’d seen the bruises on the boy’s face and wrists more than once.
He flashed her another grin. “I’ll have it back before he knows it’s gone. And you’re not gonna tell on me, yeah?”
“Maybe I won’t, if you ask me nice.” The thought hadn’t even crossed her mind, but Luca didn’t need to know that.
He pursed his lips. “If you’re gonna be like that, you can go home already.”
“But I already know,” Ileana said smugly.
“Then I’ll—I’ll make you something nice from its pelt, how about that?”
“I’ll kill my own,” she said, sweet as it was to think about getting a gift from him. “Or maybe I’ll kill a werewolf and take its pelt. And I won’t do it with some rusty old gun.”
He scoffed, looking her over. “Yeah, right. Maybe in a year or two.”
Ileana bristled at that. Every night, when her family went to sleep, she snuck out into the woods behind her home, Nightshade Lodge, and hacked and slashed until her arms grew so tired she couldn’t raise them anymore, practicing her knife throwing and fending off imaginary beasts. And she was getting good, she could tell.
That was where Luca had found her earlier tonight. “I wanna show you something,” he’d told her, and she’d let him talk her into coming along. Mostly because there was something about him that made her want to punch him in his stupidly handsome face and then kiss it all better. Not that she’d ever kissed anyone before, but she’d read about it in a book, and it didn’t sound all that bad.
The object of her secret thoughts snapped his fingers right under her nose, yanking her back into the present with a startled, “Huh?”
“I said, I’m going. You can stay here if you’re scared.”
“Pfft. I’m not scared. But,” she said after a moment, “are you sure—”
“Good. Let’s go.” He started ahead without waiting to hear the rest of the objection.PurchaseNineStar Press | Books2Read
Meet the AuthorKeira North is a queer, nonbinary, Romanian author living in Montreal. They use storytelling as a medium to explore their heritage and identity and strive to be the change they want to see in the (literary) world. When they’re not writing, they like to make music, play video games, and read copious amounts of fanfiction and indie works.Website | Instagram | BlueskyGiveawayOne lucky winner will receive a $50.00 NineStar Press Gift Code! a Rafflecopter giveaway
June 29, 2025
Grave Wind Release Blitz #rabtbooktours
Horror, Supernatural, Paranormal
Date Published: June 30, 2025
In Solitary Island, Australia. A malevolent shapeshifter haunts a storm-battered lighthouse. When Dahlia confronts an ancient secret, she must make a life-or-death sacrifice to save herself and Paranormal Jack from a terrifying entity trapped between worlds.
Caught in a twisted game, Dahlia is forced to make an impossible choice—one of them must die for the other to survive.
As Paranormal Jack fights to escape the lighthouse's sinister grip, he must explore the human fear of death and what lies beyond to uncover the horrifying truth. Betwixt has been claiming the souls of those who enter the lighthouse for centuries, and its curse runs deep.
As fate hangs in the balance, Dahlia must uncover the dark history of the Island and make a desperate bid before the evil grave wind takes hold.
Grave Wind is the first book in the Haunting Dahlia series. This riveting tale, packed with unforgettable characters, heart-pounding paranormal investigations, and shocking twists, will leave readers spellbound. If you were hooked by the eerie tension of Dean Koontz's Phantoms, this electrifying story is must-read.
Janice Tremayne, hailing from Australia, is a celebrated author specializing in supernatural horror. Her novel "Haunting in Hartley" achieved finalist status in the Readers' Favorite 2020 International Book Awards in the category of fiction-supernatural, clinching the prestigious Distinguished Favorite Prize for paranormal horror at the New York City Big Book Awards. Janice's literary prowess was further acknowledged with the silver medal at the IPPY Awards 2021 in the Australia/New Zealand/Pacific Rim – Best Regional Fiction category, as well as the Bronze Award in Adult Fiction at the Wishing Shelf Independent Book Awards 2020. In 2023, she secured the Literary Titan Gold Book Award, a testament to her excellence in writing.
Residing in Melbourne with her family, Janice intricately weaves cultural superstitions into her narratives, drawing from her upbringing where such beliefs were deeply embedded in daily life and customs. Her bestselling series, "Haunting Clarisse," has consistently soared to the top of Amazon Kindle rankings, captivating readers with its blend of occult and supernatural elements, ghosts, haunted houses, and British horror.
Janice's journey as an author began with a simple cup of coffee, sparking the inspiration to translate her fascination with cultural superstitions into gripping tales of horror. Her books are renowned for delivering heart-thumping, bone-chilling, and thought-provoking paranormal experiences, each narrative offering a fresh twist that keeps readers enthralled worldwide.
Stay updated on Janice Tremayne's latest releases by following the author.
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Purchase LinkAmazon
The Brothers Brown Teaser #rabtbooktours
Native American Literature, Family Saga Fiction, Western, Biographical Fiction, Western
Date Published: 06-01-2025
You can almost feel the red dust clinging to your skin and catch the faint scent of jasmine in the air. This is Indian Territory at the edge of everything—law and lawlessness, hope and heartbreak, where the lines between right and wrong blur with every sunset.
Told with vivid detail, this is the story of a man caught between loyalty and his past, between a brother’s shadow and the light of his own becoming. A tale of love, betrayal, and the quiet courage it takes to change your fate.
From a stagecoach town in Tennessee to the first railroad towns of the Indian Territory, we delve into the lives of the charismatic and flawed brothers, Matt and Robert. Their sibling dynamic shapes the lives of the entire Brown family, steering them down a road of familial struggles and cultural clashes.
Matt always idolized his oldest brother, Robert – a smooth-talking charmer who taught him at a young age to live hard and win big. Following Robert’s footsteps, Matt is drawn into a life of high-stakes games and deception. Then he meets Milla. Sharp-eyed, brave, and unafraid to speak the truth, Milla is a woman rooted in her Choctaw heritage, carrying both strength and sorrow in equal measure. For the first time, Matt imagines a different future. But the past doesn’t let go easily and buried secrets never stay buried for long, clawing their way back to the surface when you least expect it. Now, Matt must choose between what consumes him and the life he wants to build.
Set against the raw beauty of the Choctaw Nation, this is a powerful story of blood ties and hard choices, of the people we love and the ones we betray. Gritty, tender, and unforgettable—this is where redemption begins.
Excerpt
Albert kicked the door once, twice.
The window lit up with the light of a lamp. Through the window he saw Milla jump out of bed. He kicked the door harder.
Milla wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and stood at the bedroom door. “I told you I don’t want you here anymore,” she yelled. “You can just go...”
“Milla, open the door! It’s Albert!” He kicked again, struggling to hold Matt upright. “Matt’s hurt bad!”
She dashed to the door and let her brother-in-law in.
Albert held Matt tight around the waist and draped Matt’s left arm over his shoulder as the pair stumbled across the threshold. “Help me get him to the bed. I’m going for Doc Poor.”
Milla lifted Matt’s other arm over her shoulder and sat him on the bed, holding him steady. “Hurry,” she gasped.
Albert grabbed the coat hanging by the front door and ran out of the house.
“What have you gotten yourself into, Matt?” Milla pulled his coat off and unbuckled his holster, laying it on the nightstand. The sight of his shirt and pants covered in blood and dried mud sent a chill through her veins. He fell sideways on the bed and then she saw it—the cut on the back of his shirt.
“Owww!” Matt cupped his hand protectively over his wound, but the pain was too intense. He cried out again.
“You hold on, Matt. Albert went to find Doctor Poor. You just hold on now.” It was an order.
Matt gasped for air, then spoke in fits of agony. “They... got... Robert.” He strained to sit up and failed. His body fell limp, then he fell silent.
“Who got him?” Milla tried to roll Matt over, but he wouldn’t budge. Gasping at the sight of the blood on the bed, she backed away, hands trembling.
Is he dead?
Did he die?
Albert bolted straight up in bed and strained to listen. What was that? He thought he heard a horse neigh, but all he heard now was the creaking of the loose shutter and his own breath. But there it was again, the sound of a horse.
He stretched to look out the window. And there it was, the shape of a horse in the front yard.
Throwing off the blanket, Albert fumbled for his pocket watch on the nightstand and held it to the window. In the moon’s light, he saw it was near two in the morning. The horse was neighing again, louder and longer this time.
Albert glanced out the window as he slipped on his pants; it was Matt’s horse, Girl. The moon lit the corner of the yard where she stood, stomping her front right hoof on the frosted ground in distress.
In his bare feet, he flung open the door and rushed to the panicked horse. Matt sat slumped in the saddle, unconscious or dead. He couldn’t tell.
“Matt?” Albert touched Matt’s leg, but he nearly slid from the saddle at Albert’s touch. “Matt?”
The blood on his coat and shirt told Albert all he needed to know. It was bad, and it looked like he’d been bleeding for a while.
Without thinking, Albert mounted the horse, wrapping his arms around Matt to hold him steady, and rode as fast as he could to Matt’s house. Doc Poor lived on the back side of the field behind Matt’s place. He would take Matt home, then go wake the doctor at once.
About the Author
Raised on the beaches of South Texas, R.G. Stanford has always been drawn to stories that transcend time. That passion was ignited in 1976 with the discovery of Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire, and deepened with The Feast of All Saints just a few years later. Though historical fiction wasn’t an immediate calling, a personal journey into genealogy changed everything.
With no close relatives nearby, R.G. Stanford turned to online resources in search of extended family. That search became a twenty-year journey through genealogy websites, Federal Census records, the National Archives, and old newspapers. Along the way, R.G. Stanford uncovered incredible stories about her family and the people who once lived in the Choctaw Nation, Indian Territory.
Compelled to record the truth of her family in the lore, sprinkled with imagination, R.G. Stanford is a history lover, a research buff, and a passionate genealogy enthusiast. She is also a mother, a grandmother, and a teller of stories, now living near Orlando.
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https://mybook.to/TheBrothersBrown
June 28, 2025
Ayahuasca Is Book Blitz #rabtbooktours
Date Published: April 10, 2025
Ayahuasca Is offers a new, Proustian approach to the effects of this plant medicine on the mind. The text has a confessional, poetic yet philosophical style, with insights on art, authenticity, Christianity, and meaning.
"I haven't read anyone that has integrated so much introspection and philosophy into a memoir-type book. The world before the word really shines in that for me. I especially enjoyed her talking about the part when her mother goes swimming in the ocean and she and her brother are sitting on the beach. Also, how she goes on a little later and talks about the relationship between an individual and one's attempts to get to authentic objectivity by shattering our locked sense of subjectivity through ayahuasca. Very cool. I read Being and Time by Martin Heidegger and there are a lot of passages about authenticity and individualistic subjectivity. Her writing reminded me a lot of those passages. Authenticity is a big area of interest to me in the world of existential thought." - Alexandra Furtado
About the Author
Eleonora is originally from Brazil and has lived in the US for thirty years. She comes from a family of artists and is an artist herself. She has been to the Amazonian jungle a few times to visit native friends and learn about their shamanic world. She studied philosophy in Rio de Janeiro (PUC) in Boston (Boston University) and in England (King's College). She has also written From Mars to Marceline and Apollo's Lover.
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June 27, 2025
Soul Chaser Release Blitz #rabtbooktours
Poetry
Release Date: June 23, 2025
Featuring the following authors: Lee Clark Zumpe, Nick Armbrister, Anna Ross, Toastingfork, K.J. Watson, LindaAnn LoSchiavo, David J. Vowell, Roxana Negut, Vanessa Bane, Cassandra Jones, Andrea Tillmanns, Mathew Anderson, Fariel Shafee, Davion Moore, Afshan Q, Korede Badmus, Cara Hartley, Tanya Fillbrook, and J.E. Feldman.
I am not a symphony
My brain is complete cacophony.
Don’t come into my head
If you know what’s good for you.
You’ll wind up both deaf and mad.
I could be a figurine
As long as the figurine you mean
Is the Venus of Willendorf.
She’s only 4.4 inches tall,
But just like Rosie, she’s got it all.
I am not a ballet.
If I even tried to play
At spinning pretty pirouettes
I’d wind up face-down on the floor;
Trust me, you don’t want to see more.
I am not a sonnet
About an Easter bonnet.
I could be a country song
About a love that’s gone all wrong.
That’s what romance has been for me.
I’m not what anyone wants me to be,
But I must accept being just me
Before the sun goes down on my life
And it’s too late for affirmation
Of the fine qualities I possessed.
Ornery Owl is a wise old bird who seeks the truth behind the lies. She uses her observations to heal the wounded soul. In essence, she is the spirit of an odd little bird whose wings were clipped at a young age. She is at once a whimsical manifestation of poetic expression and a fierce protector of those targeted for derision by an angry and unsympathetic world. Depending on how you perceive her, she can be either a goddamned delight or your worst nightmare.
Follow Ornery Owl (AKA Cara Hartley)
Cara H and Ornery Owl Amazon Author Page
(C. L. Hart is my fantasy, horror, and sweet romance author pen name.)
Naughty Netherworld Press Start Page
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Lost Before I Could See Book Blitz #rabtbooktours
Navigating My Way Through Mental Illness
Self-Help
Date Published: March 28, 2025
Publisher: MindStir Media
Victoria Molta is a person who has lived with a diagnosed serious mental illness for over forty years. But more than that, she is a writer who has chronicled her life journey in her book, "Lost Before I Could See: Navigating My Way Through Mental Illness." In her book, she has chosen to write about her adventures and challenges, and though there have been setbacks, losses, and failures along the way, she never gives up. She continues to grow and learn, no matter how terrifying it can be to start new episodes of life with very little knowledge or experience, as well as a disability. She never ceases to go forward, with strength and courage, and wants the reader to know that whether living with a disability or not, life is hard. But the main point she wants to make clear is that she never gives up and never loses hope.
Victoria takes the reader on a kaleidoscopic tour beginning with her childhood in southern California, living in the San Gabriel Valley with her family. She describes her father's mental illness and alcoholism, and how, eventually, she succumbs to mental illness as well, as a young adult. She describes her family as one born of privilege and wealth, though definitely not exempt from tragedy and dysfunction. Through all her breakdowns and setbacks, she continues to rise and find meaning from chaos. From that, she develops empathy for people who have been marginalized by society and finds deep connections. In her 30s, she marries Bill, a man she had met in a halfway house where they both were living during the 1980s. It turns out to be a wonderful life partnership where they support each other in their work experiences as well as find joy in adventurous travel experiences.
Later in life, they buy a house and settle down near the shore of Long Island Sound with their rescue dog, Mandy. They appreciate the simple things in life. Peace that once seemed boring is now so appreciated because drama, which had dominated her life for so many years, no longer matters to her.
Victoria Molta is an author, mental health advocate, and television producer at East Haven Connecticut Public Television. With over four decades of lived experience with serious mental illness, Victoria brings a deeply personal and empowering perspective to her work. Her memoir, Lost Before I Could See: Navigating My Way Through Mental Illness, chronicles a lifetime of challenges, recovery, and hope.
Victoria holds a Bachelor of Arts in English from the University of Vermont and has written extensively about mental health recovery, housing advocacy, and social inclusion. Her essays have appeared in mental health journals, anthologies, and newspaper editorials across the country.
She was the first person in recovery to be openly hired by the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) in Connecticut, where she coordinated over 130 public presentations in a single year. She later worked as a peer mentor at the Yale Program for Recovery and Community Health and held support roles at mental health clubhouses, warmlines, and public housing sites.
Victoria also created and hosted the award-winning cable show You and Your Mental Wellness, highlighting the voices of Connecticut’s mental health leaders and community members. The show became a valuable resource and was featured on the Department of Mental Health and Addiction Services website.
She lives with her husband of over 30 years and their rescue dog, Mandy, near the tranquil shores of Long Island Sound. Today, she continues to advocate for awareness, dignity, and healing for all those impacted by mental illness.
June 26, 2025
Jack and Gil New Release Blitz #IndiGo
Title: Jack & Gil
Author: Emily Carrington
Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Art: Angela Knight
Genres: Action Adventure, Box Sets, Dark Fantasy, Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, New Releases, Paranormal, Romance, Urban Fantasy
Themes: 2nd Chance Romance, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures, LGBTQ+ Gay, Multicultural & Interracial, Shapeshifters
Series: Jack & Gil (#4)
Multiverse: SearchLight Academy (#11)
Book Length: Box Set
Page Count: 470
Rhyme of Longing (Jack & Gil 1): When Prince Gilbert Sullivan meets Jack Sowerby, the new head of SearchLight, his attraction won’t let him stay away. Jack’s need for Prince Gilbert blossoms and he’s unable to resist -- until he’s forcibly changed into a magical creature. Will their shattered relationship ever be restored?
Rhyme of Longing (Jack & Gil 2)
Jack is falling apart, but no one seems to notice. As Jack withdraws, the tide of war rises. Jack must find a way to regain his strength and determination or SearchLight will fall. And he’s convinced he must do it alone.
Rhyme of Love (Jack & Gil 3)
Gil struggles to hide his loss of status from Jack, but when he finally confesses, Jack blurts out his secret. Jack knows he screwed up. Well, almost. Running the risk of losing Gil, Jack must learn to lie convincingly, or he’ll lose SearchLight, his life, and Gil, as well.ExcerptJack & GilEmily CarringtonAll rights reserved.Copyright ©2025 Emily CarringtonExcerpt from Rhyme of Longing
Jack wanted so badly to be done with this night that he felt uncomfortable in his skin. That was not the proper way to begin thinking about his sixty-eighth birthday, his five-year anniversary as the head of SearchLight Academy. This was a party for both those things but no one said “no” to Agent Weinberg.
Not necessarily the most powerful magical being in the world, she was still the head of the entire organization. Even though she held the nominal title of “head of Public Relations,” SearchLight’s whole reason for existing was to protect the relationship between magical and nonmagical peoples. Which was, of course, officially, no relationship at all. SearchLight was a secret and must remain so.
The influence she held would make most magical creatures bow in submission. Jack, being merely human, was suitably impressed. And although as yet not cowed, he was too fond of his life to waste it needlessly. Not that Agent Weinberg had killed anyone. Recently.
Jack took a deep breath in through his nose as the limousine pulled up to the curb. He’d been commanded to take this limo and the implicit service of a driver, and although he hadn’t enjoyed it particularly, he was glad that he hadn’t needed to find a place to park in downtown Washington, DC. So, unsure if he was supposed to tip the driver but wanting to show his appreciation, he stepped around to the driver’s side after the car was parked at the curb and offered the person behind the wheel, whom, his telepathic sense, told him wasn’t human, ten dollars.
“Would you be trying to bribe me to take you home, Agent Sowerby?”
Jack saw the humor in the green eyes turned up to his and smiled. “Never in life,” he told the Irish-sounding sprite or Faery or leprechaun. Damn, sometimes he wished for a werewolf’s sense of smell so he’d know the magical creatures around him at once.
“You’re a good man, Agent Sowerby. Don’t let her bully you now.” And with that, he winked and rolled up his window. Jack stepped around the car to the sidewalk and watched the limo drive away.
“Hey there.” The voice was soft, lightly accented, and full of a syrupy, sarcastic undertone that put Jack’s hackles up. He turned more slowly than he could have, wanting to appear older and so less threatening. He gazed at the three people facing him and saw they were all armed.
He was aware of others watching from the doorway of the restaurant but knew they wouldn’t intercede unless it became obvious he couldn’t handle himself. That was one thing about Agent Weinberg he didn’t like much. She believed in the “sink or swim” philosophy.
The woman who’d spoken was smiling in a particularly condescending way. “Got a handout for me?” She twirled the knife in her right hand as she reached out with her left for the ten spot Jack still held.
Jack offered it, keeping a good distance from her, forcing her to step forward to take the bill. He was aware of the other two moving to flank him. He disliked using his telepathic sense against what he considered to be defenseless people, magical or mundane, and yet he wouldn’t risk his own life to preserve theirs. “I suggest you take this and be on your way,” he said softly, putting a slight psychic push into the words. He blanketed the area with his calming presence, lacking the ability to focus on more than two people at once. Both of the men who’d been flanking him stopped. One of them shook his head but the other was definitely under Jack’s control.
“Back off,” Jack said and watched the woman lower her knife a little.
She snatched at the bill and her knife hand flicked upward.
Jack dropped the ten spot and caught her wrist. The knife’s blade skidded across the waterproof material of his trench coat. He forced her to drop the knife as he said, “Go away.”
The man under his control turned and fled. But the other lunged at Jack. Yanking the woman close, Jack used her as a shield. The other man’s blade slid between her ribs. He swore, stumbling back, and lost his grip on his knife. As he turned to flee, Jack lowered the woman to the ground. He shouted, “Someone call nine-one-one.”
Someone joined him out on the sidewalk. It wasn’t Agent Weinberg. It wasn’t a SearchLight agent he knew. There was regal bearing in the other’s posture as he crouched beside Jack. “Let me heal her.”
Jack didn’t protest, although he did skate his telepathic sense outward to determine if this was a magical creature. The fact that he’d said “heal” rather than “help” argued for him not being human. He came into contact with an impenetrable psychic wall and winced as his telepathic sense bounced off. Well, there weren’t all that many humans who could resist even his most casual reach. Ergo, this was a magical creature.
Jack nodded and said, “Go ahead.” He retreated inside his own head and as he pulled out his cell phone, unwilling to trust to others to call for help, he watched the broad-shouldered male beside him spit into his hand and press the palm against the wound even as he pulled the knife free.
Dragon, Jack thought. Dragons could heal with their saliva or a blood exchange. But this wasn’t a dragon Jack knew.Purchase at Changeling Press
Meet the AuthorEmily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender women’s speculative fiction. Seeking a world made of equality, she created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires. And in the contemporary world she’s named “Sticks & Stones,” Emily has vowed to create small towns where prejudice is challenged by a passionate quest for equality. Find her on Facebook at Shapeshifter Central or on her website.Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Shapeshifter CentralGiveawayOne lucky winner will receive a $10.00 Changeling Press Gift Code! a Rafflecopter giveaway
My New Moon Tarot Reading June 2025
Get a sense of the energies and maybe enjoy a little schadenfreude at my expense. You probably didn't have to get rabies shots. No, I'm not joking.
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