Naughty Netherworld Press's Blog: Naughty Netherworld Press on Goodreads, page 36
April 7, 2025
Nothing But the Night New Release Blitz #GayBookPromotins
NEW RELEASE
Book Title: Nothing but the Night (Basic Instincts Book 2)Author: Thom Collins
Publisher: Entwined Publishing
Cover Artist: Kelly Martin
Release Date: April 8, 2025
POV/Tense: third person/past tense
Genres: Contemporary MM Romance, mystery/suspense/thriller
Tropes: detective, murder mystery, crime, erotic romance, suspense
Themes: family, secrets, sex work
Heat Rating: 4 flames
Length: 64 958 words/253 pages
It is a standalone story that is part of a wider series.
It does not end on a cliffhanger.
Buy Links
Be careful what you look for in the night.
Blurb
Three months after the death of his brother, Marc Glass faces a whole new dilemma. A tabloid journalist has made a connection between Theo and a prominent politician. Theo’s death might not be all it seems. Marc knew all about his brother’s secret sex work, but it’s a scandal that would destroy his family, who have already suffered enough.
Private Detective Jason Durham might be the answer. Marc enlists Jason’s agency to look into Theo’s unsolved murder. The police investigation is dead, but if they can solve the case on their own, they could head off the potentially damaging story. Marc isn’t sure who he can trust with the details of Theo’s life, but Jason seems like the man.
As secrets are uncovered, Marc and Jason must fight their attraction to each other, but when their prime witness is murdered, they are suddenly caught in a web of mystery and increasing danger.
As the nights grow darker, will either of them make it until morning?
Excerpt
Marc saw him fully for the first time and was startled. At forty-four, it had been a long time since he’d been instantly affected by the physical appearance of a man, but Jason was stunning. It was his large, expressive eyes that first drew him in. They were a pale shade, somewhere between green and blue, and they gave a boyish quality to his masculine face. His dark-blond hair was swept to the right, short at the back and sides with a little length on top. He had a well-trimmed beard, brown and seasoned with flecks of grey. His mouth was wide. Marc had the most insane urge to kiss it. When he smiled, he revealed a small gap between his two front teeth, which only made him even sexier.
The body beneath his clothes was fit. More athletic than muscled, and there was an almost military bearing about his posture, with his shoulders back and his chest held proudly.
Jason sat and leaned across the file on his desk, looking at the notes, granting Marc a peek down the open neck of his shirt, and a tantalising hint of chest hair.
Get hold of yourself. Remember the reason you are here.
“So, this is about your brother?” Jason said, reading the file. Marc had given the briefest summary of his case to Olivia when he’d called to make the appointment yesterday.
“Yes, but it’s probably not what you’re thinking. My brother isn’t missing or anything like what you’re used to dealing with.”
Jason looked at him with wide, reassuring eyes. “There’s no such thing as a usual case in this business. Why don’t you start at the beginning and tell me what the problem is.”
Marc sighed. The beginning. He didn’t even know where that was. “Theo died in December. Down on the waterfront by the Vermont Hotel? You probably heard about it. He was killed by a car as he crossed the road in front of the hotel. Some of the witnesses say the car drove straight at him, but the police were never convinced.”
Jason pushed the file to one side. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Yes, I remember it. There must have been CCTV coverage. There are cameras all along the waterfront. And at the hotel too.”
“There are, but it’s inconclusive whether the car changed course to hit him or not. The resolution of the images isn’t great. I must have watched it a million times and even I can’t decide on what I’m seeing.”
“I take it the driver was never caught. Do you want me to investigate further? See if I can track them down?”
Marc shook his head. “That’s not why I’m here. It’s more…complicated than that. The car was discovered burned out a few miles away. It was stolen and they never found the driver. Have you heard of Nadine Smythe? The journalist.”
Was that a tiny twitch at the corner of Jason’s mouth?
Jason nodded. “Of course. Blyham’s finest.” There was no mistaking the sarcasm in his tone.
“She came to visit me yesterday. She’s conducting her own investigation into Theo’s death… Theo’s murder.”
About the Author
Thom Collins is the author of the Jagged Shores series and the Anthem Trilogy as well as numerous standalone novels and novellas.
His new series Basic Instincts launches in spring 2025 with the novel Now Comes the Dark.
Thom has lived in the North East of England his whole life. He grew up in Northumberland and now lives in County Durham with his husband and two cats. He loves all kinds of genre fiction, especially bonk-busters, thrillers, romance and horror. He is also a cookery book addict with far too many titles cluttering his shelves. When not writing he can be found in the kitchen trying out new recipes. He’s a keen traveler but with a fear of flying that gets worse with age, but in 2013 he realized cruising is the best way to see the world.
Check out his website for news updates and a free ebook The Night.
Social Media Links
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Giveaway
Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win
one of 5 ebook copies of the series so far:
Now Comes the Dark
Nothing But the Night
Night Crimes (a standalone short story prequel)
Music Box Mystery Release Blitz #rabtbooktours
(The Cook and Inspector Mysteries Book 8)
Cozy Mystery
Date Published: April 8, 2025
A music box, a murder, and a message from the grave...
When would-be gourmet cook Angie Amalfi takes a seemingly ordinary music box to be repaired, a series of grisly murders begins, each one inching closer to her and her fiancé, San Francisco Homicide Inspector Paavo Smith. As she and Paavo race to uncover the truth, they discover the music box isn’t just a relic—it’s a key to unraveling secrets that someone is willing to kill to protect. The discovery leads to dark, emotional chapters from the past—chapters that everyone believed would be buried forever.
For readers of the Inspector Rebecca Mayfield mystery series, this story takes place soon after Rebecca and Angie's cousin Richie meet (in the novella, The Thirteenth Santa). Richie has a minor role in this story.
NOTE: The main characters in this story appear in an early mystery series by the author which is being completely reimagined and updated.
The Cook and Inspector Mysteries
Death on a Silver Platter, Book 1
A Quiche Before Dying, Book 2
The Marinara Murders, Book 3
Close Encounters of the Deadly Kind, Book 4
Death by Devil's Food, Book 5
Blind Date's Bitter End, Book 6
The Taverna Affair, Book 7
The Music Box Mystery, Book 8
About the Author
Joanne Pence is an award-winning, USA Today best-selling author of the Inspector Rebecca Mayfield mysteries, The Cook and the Inspector mysteries, the Donnelly Cabin Inn series, and the Ancient Secrets supernatural suspense novels (writing as J.M. Pence), as well as contemporary romance, historical fiction, romantic suspense, and a fantasy. Her novels present a variety of times, places, and reading experiences from mysterious to thrilling, emotional to lightly humorous, as well as powerful tales of times long past. Her books have won or been nominated for a number of high honors, including the Willa Cather Literary Award for Historical Fiction; North American Book Award for Mystery; Idaho Top Fiction Award; The Golden Quill, RWA's Rita and Golden Heart Awards, Daphne du Maurier Award, Independent Bookseller's Golden Scroll, and Romantic Times Career Achievement Award and Best Amateur Sleuth Award.
Contact Links
Purchase Link
April 6, 2025
Reclaiming Venom Teaser #rabtbooktours
(Dixie Reapers MC)
Motorcycle Club Romance, 2nd Chance Romance
Date Published: April 11, 2025
What happens when a life shrouded in memories fades away, leaving only a faint echo of love?
Ridley -- Life can change in an instant. For me, it was the day I got that devastating call -- my world crumbled when I found out my husband, Venom, had been shot. He woke up, but the man I loved was a stranger. Then someone gave me a great idea. Make him fall for me all over again! Venom might not remember our past, but deep down, I know our connection is still there.
Venom -- I woke up in a hospital, no idea how I got there or what the hell happened. The angel by my bed seems familiar and yet not. Then she tells me she’s my wife. What the hell?
But as I spend time with Ridley, every story she shares awakens something deep within me. Her laughter, her warmth… the taste of her lips… every moment I spend with her ignites a spark that feels so right. I may not remember our years together, but I know one thing for sure: she’s mine.
Fall in love with the thrill of the ride, the heartache of forgotten memories, and the fierce determination of a love that refuses to die.
WARNING: Reclaiming Venom is intended for readers 18+ due to adult situations, bad language, and violence. While Reclaiming Venom can be read as a standalone, we recommended you read Venom (A Dixie Reapers MC 1) and Emergency Date (Swift Angels MC 2) first to better appreciate Reclaiming Venom.
Content Advisory: Profanity and Violence
EXCERPT
Venom
I moved quickly, coming up behind Tinker. I couldn’t believe this asshole was still alive. Pressing the barrel of my gun to his head, I made sure I had his fucking attention. “Drop it. Now!”
Tinker froze, a string of curses spilling from his lips. Slowly, he turned to face me, realization dawning in his eyes.
“You sneaky bastards,” he snarled.
Torch and Bull emerged from the shadows, their own weapons trained on Tinker. The old man’s face contorted with rage. “This is all your fault,” he spat at us. “You and your damned club!”
Torch stepped forward. “Until you decided to stir up shit, we all thought you were dead. Why now, Tinker? Why didn’t you just stay gone?”
Tinker’s laugh was bitter. “You want to know why?”
His gaze darted to Justin, the President of the Swift Angels MC. “I only found out about him a year ago. My own flesh and blood, a cop. I watched. I waited. Hoped maybe he’d at least be dirty, something I could work with.”
I got it. Sort of. I hadn’t been too pleased to find out my son, Dawson, was not only a fireman, but also the VP of another club. I’d hoped he’d follow in my footsteps. But now, I had to admit I was proud of the man he’d become.
“Then I realized,” Tinker continued, a cruel smile twisting his features, “that the Swift Angels had ties to you Dixie Reaper scum. That’s when I knew it was time to make my move. All these decades, waiting for a chance to get revenge, and it fell right into my lap.”
“It’s over, Tinker. You’ve lost. Do you really think you’ll get out of this alive? We may not have made sure you were dead last time, but things are different now,” I said.
Tinker’s grin widened. “You sure about that, Venom?”
Without warning, chaos erupted. Two men materialized from the shadows behind Justin. Shit! Wire had said Tinker would be alone. Where the hell had these men come from?
“Justin, down!” Logan yelled, but it was too late.
A deafening crack split the air. Justin’s body jerked, his blue eyes wide with shock. Blood bloomed across his chest, a crimson stain spreading rapidly. “Shit,” he muttered, his voice barely audible before his knees buckled.
Logan appeared shocked at first, then the paramedic sprang into action. He snatched the med bag he’d brought as a precaution and sprinted toward Justin’s fallen form.
Two more shots went off, and pain hit me like a fucking freight train. I stared at Tinker in confusion as I sank to the ground, everything going dark around the edges of my vision. I could hear everything around me, even though it felt like I was down a long tunnel, voices echoing.
“Logan! Hurry the fuck up!” Dawson’s frantic voice cut through the chaos.
I felt something pooling beneath me and realized it was my own fucking blood. The world got darker and darker, and I knew I was going under. Jesus fucking Christ! I’d lived this damn long, and a snake like Tinker got the drop on me?
Ridley… What the hell would she do without me? I didn’t want to leave her. There was still so much I wanted to see and do with her. Regret slammed into me, as I tried to recall if I’d told her I loved her before we left.
“Diego!” Logan barked. “Keep pressure on Justin’s wound. I need to check on Venom.”
I felt someone drop beside me, but I couldn’t make out any shapes anymore.
“We need ambulances,” Logan shouted. “Two of them. Now!”
I felt someone rip open my shirt and try to staunch the flow of blood, but I knew it was too late. Nothing could save me now.
“Dad.” Dawson’s voice broke as someone knelt beside me. Was it Dawson? “Dad, can you hear me?”
I heard Logan’s voice on the other side of me. “He’s lost a lot of blood. We need to get him to the hospital immediately.”
Logan worked on packing my wounds. I wanted to tell him to save someone else, that I’d finally come to the end of my journey, but I couldn’t form the words. My body felt cold, and soon even the noises around me faded to nothing.
Ridley… I’m so fucking sorry for leaving you. I’ll always love you.
* * *
Ridley
I stared at my son in horror, seeing my husband’s blood all over him. I wordlessly handed him a change of clothes and watched as he rushed off to a bathroom. Jesus. He’d told me it was bad, but… there was so much blood.
I looked over at Torch, and he came closer.
“What happened?” I asked. “There were so many of you. Was Tinker really that hard to take down?”
Torch sighed and ran a hand over his beard. “He wasn’t alone. Not Wire’s fault. Somewhere he picked up two helpers. While Venom had his gun to Tinker’s head, the other two came out of nowhere. They shot Justin first, and while our focus was on him, the other one shot Venom.”
I pressed a hand to my chest, my knees feeling weak. “How bad? And don’t fucking lie to me, Torch.”
“It’s bad, Ridley,” he murmured. “He nearly coded in the ambulance. By some miracle, the paramedics were able to get him back. They rushed him to surgery the minute we arrived. If it hadn’t been for Logan, he’d have died before they even got there.”
Right when my knees gave out, someone caught me. I glanced up to see Viking behind me. He hugged me tight before picking me up and carrying me over to a chair. He gently eased me down, and I leaned forward, pressing my head to my knees.
“This can’t be happening,” I whispered. “All these years, and this happens now? He was supposed to be safer. He stepped down as VP, and I thought, for sure, most of the danger was behind us.”
Torch took the spot beside me, and Savior sat on the other. We remained silent, praying and hoping for good news. It felt like an eternity before two doctors came out. One talked to the Swift Angels first about Justin, and the other came to me. He faced me, his expression grim, and my heart dropped.
“Venom has a long road to travel before he’s back on his feet. He made it through surgery, but… we lost him. We were about to call time of death, when his heart started beating again. He’s been moved to recovery, but it’s been decided it would be best to place him in a coma to help with the healing process.”
“What…” I licked my lips. “What does that mean?”
“He’s going to sleep until his body is mostly repaired. Then we’ll see if we can get him awake again.”
“What do you mean you’ll see?” Panic welled inside me. “He has to wake up!”
The doctor nodded. “I understand how you feel, but his situation… it’s not the best. For a man his age, well. There’s a lot of trauma to his body. There’s no way of telling when he’ll wake up.”
“Or if, right?” I asked, giving a bitter laugh. “You’re telling me he’s alive, but I may never get the chance to talk to him again? To see his eyes open, or hear him laugh? What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”
I heard my voice rising but couldn’t stop it. Tears streaked my cheek, and I felt the hysteria welling inside me. Then my son was there. Dawson wrapped me in his arms, and I sobbed against his chest while he spoke with the doctor.
Venom. You better come back to me! I can’t live without you.
About the Author
Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC Romances. With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde immerses her readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible women. Her works exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still managing to end on a satisfying note each time.
When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book. She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies. Visit Wylde's website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and don't forget to sign up for her newsletter to receive exclusive discounts and other exciting perks.
Author on Facebook, Instagram, & TikTok: @harleywylde
Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress
April 5, 2025
Love Me After My Death
LOVEME AFTER MY DEATH
AREELSHORT Original Story
ContemporaryRomance Featuring :
HighDrama
Star-CrossedLovers
Revenge
TorturedHero
Enemiesto Lovers
Anda Devastating Secret That Threatens These Lovers
AMAZON: https://shorturl.at/8sNUy
Blurb:
There was a time when Caroline would’ve done anything for herformer sweetheart, Eric Martin.
That’swhy she agreed to marry him.
Six years ago, Caroline faced a dire ultimatum from Eric’smother. Marry Eric, and Stacy—Eric’s conniving girlfriend—getsthe life-saving operation she needs. Out of love, Caroline agreed,hoping that in time, she and Eric would be able to rekindle the sparkthey once shared.
Butthat hope was in vain. Since that fateful day, Eric has harborednothing but brutal resentment for Caroline; the last six years ofmarriage have been a nightmare.
As their marriage descends deeper into emotional warfare,Caroline receives a shocking, tragic diagnosis of her own.
While Caroline quietly prepares for the end, anall-too-familiar face returns—with a devastating secret to reveal.
Withtime running out, the question remains: Will Eric finally see Stacyfor who she is, or will everything fall apart before Caroline’slast breath?
EXCERPT
Hestrokes the picture of him and Stacy as one would a beloved child orwife.
“Getit into your head, Caroline, this photo is important to me.”
WhileI’m not.
Angerflares at his unspoken words, heat stinging my cheeks.
Heplaces the photo on the table.
I’vea notion to swat it off to get a reaction from him, to let him know Iexist, but I won’t. Another argument that leads to more icyindifference on his part isn’t how I want these moments to go.
Refusingto meet my gaze, he steps away from me. “Mess with my things againand I’ll make sure you regret it.”
Goodgod, after what we once shared we’ve come to this?
“I’llregret it how? You’ll tear up my photos of Mom? You’ll throw outthe jewelry she left me?”
Hestrides toward the front door.
Icry out, “Do you hate me so much?” My voice catches and trembles.“Do you?”
Hestops, shoulders tightened, fists clenched.
Hereit comes.
Ibrace myself for his verbal assault and talk fast. “The picturefalling was an accident. I got dizzy and gripped the table. Thepicture—”
“Stopit.” Back at my side, he grips my shoulders, his features tightfrom indignation. “I’ve had it with your damn lies.”
“Whatare you talking about? I’m not lying. It was an accident.”
Hedigs his fingers into my shoulders.
Iwince. “Stop it. You’re hurting me.”
Hisface changes, surprise replacing his anger. He loosens his grip butdoesn’t let go.
“Youexpect me to believe your lies?” His voice couldn’t be colder orharder. “Especially after what you’ve always done to me?”
He’snot making sense. “What I’ve always done to you? I haven’tdone— Eric, please, listen to me. I went to the hospital today andthe doctor said…”
Thewords are on the tip of my tongue, yet I can’t force them out.They’re too vile.
“What?”His frown deepens. “Go on.”
Unableto, I shake my head.
“That’swhat I thought.” He releases me, disgust in his gaze. “Spare methe theatrics. I’m not playing your games any longer. Never again.”
“But—”
Hisringtone sounds, interrupting me. He pushes past, his arm knockingmine. The doctor’s report falls from my grip and floats to thefloor, coming to a rest near his shoe.
Hedoesn’t notice, his full attention on the phone display.
Iedge closer then freeze at Stacy’s picture.
She’sback?
She’scalling him?
Mystomach drops, my skin crawling. Everything Stacy did to me floodsback. Her ruthless betrayal when we’d been BFFs. Her poisoning Ericagainst me when he and I had once been in love. I still don’t knowhow she managed that with him. One day he and I were planning ourfuture and in the next he was at Stacy’s side, wanting her andlooking at me as if I was poison.
Shecan’t be back. I refuse to go through her shit again.
“Stacy?”With the phone to his ear, Eric turns away from me. “What’swrong?”
Whateverit is, I’m certain it’s a lie he’ll believe. She was alwaysgood at convincing everyone, except me, of whatever she said.
“Don’tworry, please.” Eric’s voice couldn’t be softer, moreprotective. “I’ll be right there. I’ll make certaineverything’s all right.”
Heends the call and hurries toward the front door.
Icatch up and clasp his wrist.
“Eric,don’t go. Please.”
Ihate to beg — at one time in my life I would have been ashamed todo so — but that’s not now. I need him here. With Mom gone, heand his mother Alice are the only family I have left. I don’t wantto call her. Mom’s death was devastating enough for Alice. As forrelying on a friend… Stacy made certain friendships were toxic.
“Stayhere.” I caress his wrist. “We need to talk. I… I havesomething important to tell you.”
Praisefor Love Me After My Death:
FIVESTARS - AMAZON
"WONDERFULTEAR JERKER"
Thisone broke my heart in all the right ways. A great read.
-Carol J.
FIVESTARS - AMAZON
"FANTASTIC"
Readit all in one weekend! Loved entering their world on a deeper level.The ReelShort adaptations are the best.
-Sam
AboutTina:
Tina’san Amazon and international bestselling novelist who writespassionate romance for every taste – ‘heat with heart’ – fortraditional publishers and indie.Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly,RomanticTimesand numerous online sites have praised her work. She’s won Readers’Choice Awards, was named a finalist in the EPIC competition, receiveda Book of the Year award, The Golden Nib Award, awards of merit inthe RWA Holt Medallion competitions, and second place in the NEC RWAcontests. She’s featured in the Novel & Short Story Writer’sMarket. Before penning romances, she worked at a major Hollywoodproduction company in Story Direction.
Ona less serious note: she’s an admitted and unrepentant chocoholic,brakes for Mexican restaurants, and has been known to moan like MegRyan in WhenHarry Met Sally whilewolfing down tostadas. She’s flown a single-engine airplane(freaking scary), rewired an old house using an ‘electricity fordummies’ book, and is horribly shy despite the hot romances shewrites.
MeWe: https://mewe.com/i/tinadonahue
Bluesky: @tinadonauthor.bsky.social
Website/Blog: https://tinadonahuebooks.blogspot.com/
Newsletter: https://tinadonahuebooks.blogspot.com/p/newsletter.html
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/tina-donahue
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/146988.Tina_Donahue
Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/tinadonahue
Amazonauthor page: https://amzn.to/1ChWFkO
Sweet‘n Sexy Divas: https://sweetnsexydivas.blogspot.com/
Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/AuthorTinaDonahue
April 4, 2025
Warrior Queen New Release Blitz #IndiGo
Title: Warrior Queen
Author: Mikala Ash
Cover Art: Bryan Keller
Genres: Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, New Releases, Paranormal, Romance, Sci-Fi
Themes: Alien Encounters, Alternative Universe, Dark Ages, Gaslamp, Victorian & Edwardian, LGBTQ+ /Bisexual, Nonbinary, Transgender, Magic, Sorcery, and Witchcraft, Multiple Partners /Polyamory, Murder Mystery, Steampunk
Series: Empire of the Sky (#6)
Multiverse: Steam and Spells (#5)
Book Length: Novella
Page Count: 121
Add to Goodreads
This book contains material suitable only for readers 18+.SynopsisA volatile cauldron of magic, love, and the empire may be on the edge of a precipice, but witches, humans, and automatons indulge in pleasures of the flesh.Victoria has been dubbed by her adoring public as their Warrior Queen. Destroying her Continental enemies is nothing to the challenge she faces now. For years, the Lunarians, goblins from the moon, led by the powerful witch Mon Ilson, have been murdering humans and stealing the bodies for his followers to “adopt.”
Beautiful witch Selena Whiteheart, Mon Ilson’s human agent on Earth, is closely watched by Home Office Agent Harry Kincaid, whose loyalty to the Queen suppresses his ability to show Selena his true feelings. Spiritualist Miss Cordelia Warrington has been exploring the carnal attributes and mechanical stamina of Adam, her automaton butler. Now Selena needs Cordelia’s help, and allows herself to be entertained by the amorous pair in a steamy ménage à trois.
Meanwhile, Agent of the Queen Rachel Clayton is instantly attracted to the hauntingly handsome Major Guy Tremayne, hero of the Coronation Island disaster. Can he be trusted? She throws all caution to the wind to find out. At a crucial moment the Queen is cruelly betrayed and threatened with assassination. Selena, Rachel, and Victoria all face difficult choices as love and lust compete with their duty to the Empire.
Author’s Note: Enjoy Warrior Queen as a standalone tale or as part of a continuing narrative.Excerpt
Warrior Queen (Empire of the Sky 6)
Mikala Ash
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2025 Mikala Ash
Thwack!
Thwack!
The sound of two cane sticks striking each other reminded me of how a scant two hours ago the Home Secretary had slapped my posterior as he ravaged me. Pressed for time he’d unceremoniously bent me over his Whitehall desk, pulled down my culottes and drawers, grabbed my shoulders for leverage, and drove his prodigious erection into me with frightful force. A few minutes later he flooded my quivering cunt with his lava hot seed. It had been a perfunctory fuck, short and sharp, and my climax perversely satisfying.
My cunny still retained a fair quantity of his ejaculation, and I shifted in my seat contriving to put pressure on my fleshy nether lips to keep it from escaping. My apparently not-so-subtle contortions did not escape the notice of the fine-looking man sitting opposite me. I’d quite forgotten about him as I relived the morning’s carnal adventure. He cleared his throat which brought me back to the here and now.
I was sitting in a Buckingham Palace anteroom, and I felt my cheeks warm under the scrutiny of this ruggedly handsome and smartly uniformed officer. When I’d first arrived, he’d introduced himself as Guy Tremayne. He was in fact the famous Major of the Southern Royal Air Corps who’d distinguished himself by leading the survivors of an airship crash on Coronation Island, a frozen rock midway between Tierra Del Fuego and Antarctica. Their inspirational struggle for survival on the barren island was a true Boys Own Adventure. I’d read his file during my recent convalescence and believed Major Tremayne to be a brave and resourceful officer, respected by his men and superiors alike.
He had given me an elegant bow, took my proffered hand, and lightly brushed his lips against my knuckles. To say I was instantly attracted would be an understatement. He was the epitome of masculinity: well over six feet tall, slim, and long legged. His hips were narrow, his chest deep, and his shoulders broad. His sharply chiselled face was suntanned, and above a thin black moustache his nose was pleasantly symmetrical. The palest of blue eyes gave his countenance a strikingly mysterious and yet desirable aspect.
My cunny throbbed.
He was sitting as if he was on parade with his back straight as a board. He’d started his career in the cavalry, and I couldn’t help but imagine him in the saddle riding into battle, his sabre held high, its razor edge glinting in the sun. He’d actually seen combat, and his curly hair disguised the missing left ear, lost during a bloody skirmish in the Punjab.
Thwack! Thwack!
“Do you singlestick?” I asked him, my mouth dry, and my voice husky.
Thwack! Thwack!
The corners of his mouth curled into a smile. “Indeed, I do. The sabre is my weapon of choice.”
Singlestick fighting had been a feature of English martial life for centuries and cavalry men used it for practicing sabre strokes from horseback. Though the sport had become highly regimented, it required fast reflexes and strict discipline. I found it useful for developing forearm and wrist strength.
Thwack! Thwack!
“Perhaps we should have a bout?”
“It would be my pleasure.”
Thwack! Thwack!
My cunt throbbed lustily, and inside my blouse, my nipples ached. I licked my bottom lip, slowly. “Are you residing in London?”
He threw up his hands. “Alas. I exist at the whim of the War Department.”
Thwack! Thwack!
“Then we should arrange a time soon.”
“I believe I am free tomorrow evening.”
“As it happens, so am I.”
Thwack! Thwack!
We’d just concluded arrangements to meet at a restaurant in Chelsea when the door to the anteroom opened, and a footman showed in a slim, elegantly dressed woman. She was about forty years of age, with an attractive oval face and perfect complexion accentuated by challenging hazel eyes and provocatively painted red lips. Her luxurious auburn hair was coiled expertly around her head in such a way that suggested considerable length. The bulk was held in place with gem-tipped pins which glinted in the harsh electric light. I imagined her standing naked, her hair cascading over her ample breasts, reaching and discreetly hiding her mound of Venus. I recognised her as the wife of a member of the House of Lords, and this sensual impression I’d constructed was at odds with her reputation. She was known as a straitlaced prude, active in charitable institutions and a fierce and passionate advocate for women’s suffrage. On one occasion she’d been seen at a rally striking a constable with a placard after she accused him of taking undisclosed liberties.
I curtsied. “Lady Fogerty, I’m Rachel Clayton.”
Purchase at Changeling Press
Meet the AuthorAussie Mikala Ash used to be a mild-mannered training & development consultant by day, and a wild sci-fi and paranormal adventure writer by night. Now she is a brazen full-time writer and nature photographer who is concentrating on having among other things, “… bags, and bags of fun!” Mikala can be found on Facebook and on X.GiveawayOne lucky winner will receive a $10.00 Changeling Press Gift Code! a Rafflecopter giveaway
April 3, 2025
Regrets Book Blitz #rabtbooktours
Romance
Date Published: March 19, 2025
Publisher: Wild Rose Press
Trauma surgeon, Rea Tasson, rescues Hollywood heartthrob Drew Foster after he crashes his Porsche into the beach by her house. To escape unwanted publicity, she allows him to stay the night.
After discovering Rea's fiancée died from an opioid overdose, Drew chooses to stay. Their friendship grows, as does their romance. But when Drew's next project takes him to Paris, Rea must reconcile with all the people who have abandoned her, if she ever wants a happily ever after.
About the Author
Caryn M. McGill has always been a storyteller. She often told tales to her children at bedtime in lieu of reading to them. A serious daydreamer, she used to think it the opposite of her education and work in the sciences, but now realizes scientists are the ultimate daydreamers. She's immersed herself in a lifelong study of religion, astrology, reincarnation, and past-life regressions. This otherworldly journey produced her debut novel, The Wives of Lucifer (2015), a trilogy. She also writes a romantic suspense series, Steel and Desire, under the name Kendra Greenwood. Her newest novel, Regrets, debuts in 2025 and her current work, His Daughter, is in pitch mode. Caryn grew up on the beaches of Long Island's East End. When she's not writing, you can find her in the kitchen whipping up something scrumptious or in the studio, painting and fusing glass into decorative dishes.
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The Break of Dawn New Release Blitz #IndiGo
Title: The Break of Dawn
Author: Eule Grey
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: 04/01/2025
Heat Level: 1 - No Sex
Pairing: Female/Female
Length: 28400
Genre: Contemporary, British, Yorkshire, YSP, Art, Sculpture, Easter, Spring, second chances, new beginnings, first love, baby animals
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DescriptionCora ‘I am all that I need’ Richards has a prison reputation for being an ice queen. She exists via a strict code of survival: people equal pain—the end. Surprises lead to disappointment; therefore, Cora won’t tolerate the unexpected. Friends? No. Lovers? Never. A hollow nighttime ache in her chest is bothersome, true, but the issue certainly isn’t caused by loneliness. Cora knows who she is and what she isn’t. She gladly accepts a placement at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park, not to meet the elusive artist, Sky Sunday, but to finish her prison sentence early. It’s work, nothing more.
But the breathtaking landscape, woolly lambs, fluffy ducklings, and friendly artists challenge a woman trying not to feel. Life at the Sculpture Park is vibrant, messy, and warm. Still, it would take someone extraordinary to melt an ice queen such as Cora—the end.
Sky Sunday wears dungarees and muddy yellow boots, talks in riddles, listens to Cora’s suggestions, and never belittles her. From the first awkward meeting, attraction sizzles between them. But Sky is rubbish at talking. So is Cora. How can two impenetrable women ever get close?
From dawn to dusk, the workers toil on a mysterious, humming sculpture, and nobody knows what it’s supposed to be. If they trust their instincts, Sky insists that something unique will happen on Easter Sunday. Cora abandons the last of her ice armour as dawn breaks, but is it too late to be vulnerable and take a second chance?
What happens when an ice queen and a fluffy chick kiss? Can Cora and Sky forget their past and begin a new life together? This story is not the end.ExcerptThe Break of DawnEule Grey © 2025All Rights Reserved
February 1
It started with a shout.
“Richards! Gov’s office.”
The yell left a deafening silence in the dining hall. Chatter ceased, the insistent bang-bang of doors stopped, and even the pitter-patter of rain on the windows faded as if it knew that a shout from Miss Holmes always signalled terrible news, and especially for me—my prison release date was mere months away.
Potential crimes flashed through my mind. Had I left a mess in the kitchen during my shift? Did I piss someone off? Had my sentence been lengthened due to a technical hitch?
It wouldn’t be the first time they’d messed up the dates. Three sentences ago, a fight led to six additional weeks on the wing. Gah. The incident hadn’t been my fault. When someone insulted me, I fought back. If you didn’t stand up for yourself, you’d end up on the floor with a broken nose.
When the yell settled, the women gleefully nudged one another, glad to see me in trouble—I wasn’t popular.
My roommate, Jenny, tugged insistently at my standard prison-grey sleeve. “Cora. You better go. She sounds pissed.”
We exchanged worried looks. I stood as if to head to the office but legged it to our room instead, my stomach clenching about the bottle of hooch brewing beneath my bed. Jenny and I had started the brew a few weeks before. I’d reckoned we could celebrate my release with a few drinks. After eight months of sharing a cell, we’d grown pretty close. As close as I allowed people, anyway, which meant a chasm the size of a planet crouched between us. We were very different. Jenny carelessly revealed every facet of her life as we lay in our beds, whereas I shared bare essentials, such as my favourite brand of chocolate. Stuffed animals covered her bed while mine was bare. Enough said.
The hooch was not the problem. Bubbling quietly and consistently, our concoction hadn’t been discovered. Hooch constituted a minor offence anyway. What the hell else had I done?
The officer shouted again, more aggressively. “Richards! Gov’s office.”
The tone of her voice pissed me off. I wouldn’t go without a fight. Yeah, I should’ve accepted defeat and walked to the office with a sorry expression. Only a spanner with a death wish as strong as the undead would have ignored a call from the governor. I didn’t say sorry or play nice. Thirty-two was too old to change the habits of a lifetime.
Jenny thundered into our cell, banging the door behind her. “Did someone snitch? You better go before you get a warning.” At forty, she was serving her first sentence, naïve as a baby. Jenny still believed the prison rules existed to protect us, bless her cotton socks.
I made myself comfy on the bed. “Nope. Miss Snotty Holmes will have to come and fetch me.”
Years of practice in front of a mirror hadn’t been wasted. I could steel my face into an impenetrable fortress without much effort. Nobody saw the real me, the kid who’d cried during beatings and hoped her momma would visit at the children’s home over Christmas time.
Needless to say, my weak years were a very long time ago.
Jenny adopted her melting-biscuit look. She was pretty, with an expressive face that hid nothing. My helpful lessons about concealing one’s feelings hadn’t done anything for her. She cried or shouted wilfully, drawing attention, revealing weaknesses and vulnerabilities she should’ve kept hidden. I’d probably have demanded a new cellmate months ago if she wasn’t so kind. Oh, I didn’t like her—god forbid. Jenny was inoffensive to live with. Like and dislike had become irrelevant feelings to me. But she never gave up trying to improve or save me, the poor woman.
Jenny hovered at my bedside, looking like the apocalypse was coming, bristling with kindness. “Go and see what Miss wants? Maybe it’s good news. You know they’ve been handing out certificates from education this week? You did well in your exams.” She nodded encouragingly as if I were a silly kid needing a hug rather than a tough bitch who could cope with any amount of trouble. Bring it on.
She lunged. I held my breath, willing her not to touch. Jenny had a crush on me. It wasn’t unusual. Most women inside welcomed a ‘special relationship’ with a roommate. Not me. Jenny had attempted many touchy-feely incidents over the months. Obviously, I’d ignored them all. Whether hand-holding or hair brushing, every contact was disgusting to me. Why would I welcome another woman’s baggage on top of my own? No. It was better to be alone than abandoned. Hugs equalled pain. The end.
Jenny attempted a sudden, unexpected hug. “Aww, babe.”
I held up a practised iron fist. “Don’t touch me and never call me babe.” It was laughable and sad how she shrank back, believing I would hurt her. I never would. Jenny might be a nuisance, but she didn’t deserve or need a slap, only a little reminder now and then about boundaries.
She abruptly drew her hand back. “I just wanted—” She sounded wounded, almost tearful.
The grief in her eyes was too much. I closed my eyes.
“Yeah, well, don’t tell me because I’m as interested as a cardboard box would be. I’m having a nap if anyone asks.”
It was a relief to shut her out. Why women wanted to be special, I’d never understand. Yuck.
I began silently counting. At six hundred, a stern voice broke my concentration.
“Didn’t you hear? The gov wants you in her office.”
I swung my legs off my bed and crammed cold feet into my shoes. “I didn’t hear, Miss. On my way.”
What had been gained from the extra few moments alone? Even I didn’t understand myself. Maybe it was part of my nature to rebel, or perhaps every victory, however tiny, kept me going. I was a narky cow. The end.
Jenny watched me silently and reproachfully. As I passed her, I stuck out my tongue. She rolled her eyes.PurchaseNineStar Press | Books2Read
Meet the AuthorEule Grey has settled, for now, in the north UK. She’s worked in education, justice, youth work, and even tried her hand at butter-spreading in a sandwich factory. Sadly, she wasn’t much good at any of them!She writes novels, novellas, poetry, and a messy combination of all three. Nothing about Eule is tidy but she rocks a boogie on a Saturday night!For now, Eule is she/her or they/them. Eule has not yet arrived at a pronoun that feels right.Website | Facebook | TwitterGiveawayOne lucky winner will receive a $50.00 NineStar Press Gift Code! a Rafflecopter giveaway
April 2, 2025
The Victorian Locket Book Blitz #rabtbooktours
A Galveston Historical Mystery
Cozy Mystery
Sarah Anne Law, affectionately known to family and friends as Sam, was playing the stalking game with her cat when she inadvertently discovered a secret compartment in her haunted Victorian home. Not only did Sam find a hidden treasure, but she also realized that their playful game aroused a long-dormant spirit. Perhaps the newly awakened spirit and one of the more disturbing hauntings in her beautiful home were connected. Did a murder occur? As Sam followed clues to unravel the 125-year-old mysteries, she unveiled the true horrors of Galveston’s deadly and gruesome past.
About the Author
Elefair King, a native Texan, grew up in Houston. Retired, she now lives in The Woodlands, Texas. Married for 40 years, she has one son who lives nearby. Driven by her compassion to serve others, she founded several non-profit organizations as well as served on committees and boards of many local and regional charities. Elefair loves history, especially about her beloved Texas. She frequently stops along its country roads to read historical markers when seeking new adventures.
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Out-Houses New Release Blitz #IndiGo
Title: Out-Houses
Author: Kira Stone
Cover Art: Marteeka Karland
Genres: Contemporary Romance, New Releases, Romance
Themes: Age Gap (Older Man), LGBTQ+ Gay, Multicultural & Interracial, Multiple Partners /Polyamory, New Adult
Book Length: Novella
Page Count: 55
This book contains material suitable only for readers 18+.
SynopsisOut-Houses.com. The hottest gay-owned interior design business in Northern California.When Paul joins the owners of Out-Houses.com, Alex and Toby, at their secluded cabin, it’s supposed to be a chance for them to work away from the distractions of the office. Instead Paul finds himself more distracted than ever -- and wanting to join in the fun.
Andy is late for a very important date -- with Toby, one of the owners of Out-Houses. Toby doesn’t like to be kept waiting and decides to teach Andy a lesson by giving him a spanking. Not the traditional way to start an interview, but at Out-Houses, anything goes.
Alex and Toby are great fun, but Paul wants a man of his own. Not just any man -- he’s got his sights set on Andy. Which would be fine, except Andy’s not looking his way. Or is he?ExcerptOut-HousesKira StoneAll rights reserved.Copyright ©2025 Kira Stone
“Fuck me.” There was a startled gasp, then, “Harder!”
“You want it bad, don’t you?”
The sounds of slapping flesh accompanied the masculine voices emanating from the other side of the bedroom wall. Paul groaned and rolled over. His hard-on stabbed the mattress and he groaned again, this time from pain. It was gonna be a long, exhausting week if he had to listen to his bosses, the owners of Out-Houses -- the newest, hottest gay interior designer company in Northern California -- get it on in the living room every night.
Especially given his recent, secret aspiration of becoming the meat in their cum sandwich.
“Oh, yeah. Just like that. Don’t stop.”
Must be Alex doing the begging, the little slut. Paul pictured him on his knees, his fine caramel colored ass in the air. Desperate for what satisfaction only his partner could give him.
Toby’s deep bass rumbled in response. “Heh. No worries there.”
“Oh, fuck. More. More!”
Placing a pillow over his head didn’t help stifle the erotic noises coming from the nearby room. If he had to hear it, then Paul wanted to see it. Feel it. Be fully engaged in the action. Eavesdropping was a poor substitute for sating carnal lust. Last night he’d been jet-lagged enough to fall asleep. A drag queen in full voice wouldn’t have woken him. However, after spending the day shoulder to shoulder with his gorgeous employers, hunched over a work table studying a ream of concept drawings for a gay-oriented housing project, pinned between their two rock solid bodies…
Damn. Rock solid. Just like his cock.
He was never going to get to sleep as long as he had to listen to them fuck.
Paul tossed off the sheet covering him and slipped out through the sliding glass doors onto the balcony overlooking the Pacific Ocean. He didn’t bother to dress. Dense shrubs on either side of the isolated beach house created a privacy screen from anyone walking along the cliffs. The only people he was likely to encounter were otherwise… engaged.
Two long flights of stairs descended from the deck to meet a short expanse of pristine white sand. Paul didn’t feel comfortable going near the water, in part because walking around in the dark in a strange, wild area had “potentially fatal” written all over it, but also because it took him farther away from where he really wanted to be. Inside. In the living room. On his knees. Sucking Alex’s cock while Toby pounded into him from behind.
Like that’s going to happen. Face it, Paulie, you may be ready, willing and able to bat for the home team, but that doesn’t mean you’ll get a chance to play in this ballpark.
Paul lifted his face to the ocean breeze, trying to clear his mind. He failed, miserably. No matter what lust-killing thoughts he injected into his brain, his libido returned him to the action inside. Toby’s large frame, black skin over corded muscle, wrapped around Alex’s lithe Latino body. Fucking like bunnies.
If it were just about the sex, he might have stood a chance at stemming this hormonal rampage, but Paul admired their internal qualities too. Both had high IQs and more ambition than a rookie Triple-A player after a spot on a major league bench. They were risk takers. Adrenaline junkies. And it was a good thing, because it would take as much guts as money to make their fledgling company, Out-Houses, a success.
But if anyone could do it, Toby and Alex were capable of pulling it off. Paul wasn’t sure how these two alpha males managed to work together so well, or how long their partnership, in and out of bed, could last. Meeting them through their website had been a fluke when Paul needed help with his bathroom plumbing. They’d needed an architect though, and he was ready for a change in jobs. However, the youth of their business and their relationship made signing on with them a gamble. If they broke up, chances were the company wouldn’t survive. Paul chose to take the risk with them. It was hard to walk away from a dream job.
And his dream of joining Alex and Toby during one of their lunchtime quickies.
Paul relaxed against the balcony rail. Moonlight spilled over his milk white skin, giving it a silvery sheen. He ran his hand down his chest, following the thin arrow of reddish-blond hair to his cock. In order to get any sleep at all, he’d have to appease his woodie sooner or later. Might as well be now.
But not quickly. Not something that would be over and forgotten in a minute like a quick jerk-off during a morning shower. Paul wanted to treat himself to something special. Something he’d remember for a long time to make up for the erotic ménage memories he’d have to live without.Purchase at Changeling
Meet the AuthorKira Stone lives in a warm cave tucked away in the remote Scottish Highlands, where a small band of ever-changing heroes serves as company. As they relax in front of a roaring fire, demons dance in leather pants and angels stroke tunes from the harp strings, while the Fae stop in to share tales from other worlds. Bound by pen and imagination, these are the folk who wait to greet you from the pages of Kira's stories. Visit Kira's Website.GiveawayOne lucky winner will receive a $10.00 Changeling Press Gift Code! a Rafflecopter giveaway
Fallen Preorder Blitz #rabtbooktours
Paranormal Romance
Date Published: April 4, 2025
He may be her salvation -- if she's willing to lose her wings all over again.
Livia was cast out of heaven for the crime of falling in love with a human. So what's a fallen angel to do when she meets the man of her dreams? Falling certainly has its perks.
Ty didn't expect the angel at his party to be fallen or to have a murky past. He also didn't expect her to end up in his arms. Now he's not about to let the past stand in the way of their future.
The following excerpt contains material suitable only for readers 18+.
EXCERPT
Parties are so lame.
Livia crossed her arms and stared at the people swaying before her. Hard rock blasted from the speakers and rumbled the floor. She flicked a lock of her hair over her shoulder. Dancing, laughing, and more than enough drinking. She sighed. When was the last time she'd danced and laughed? Hell. She couldn't remember.
She wanted to dance, to wrap her arms around a torso thick with muscle, to rest her head on a taut set of pecs and hear the heartbeat of a red-blooded male like the one she'd drooled over in her history course. He'd mentioned throwing an event. She wanted to see him, to see if he was actually like the persona she'd created for him in her mind.
She snorted. Meeting a guy was probably not the best reason to attend a costume party off campus, but who cared? It wasn't like she had anyone keeping tabs on her.
A young man dressed as a gladiator ambled toward her. "Hel-lo, beautiful." A wide grin curled his lips. His blond hair flopped over his brow as he winked and pointed to her with his sloshing cup. "You shouldn't stand in the corner alone. Might get your wings dirty."
Wings? She crooked one brow. She'd come as a Madonna look-alike, not an angel. When she glanced over her shoulder, sure enough, her wings were there -- translucent, but there. Odd. "They'll wash." Her wings had been ripped off over two thousand years prior. When - and how -- the hell had they come back?
"Yeah?" He wobbled on his feet. "Feathers work in a washing machine?" He burped and his dark eyes widened. "I made a funny." He swayed again and splashed beer onto her bustier.
Livia gritted her teeth. This wasn't the man she had in mind. Her dream man didn't slop alcohol on anyone -- as far as she knew. Was the man in her mind simply a figment of her imagination? An impossibility? Probably. She'd been around far too long and seen more than her share of good men fall by the wayside.
At least washing the beer stench out of her clothes wouldn't be too difficult.
"So, do ya wanna go make out?" He licked his lips. "I'm a great kisser, and I bet you do wonders with those tits."
"Go home, Brett."
Livia's blood turned to fire in her veins. The deep, gravelly voice set her nerves on edge. If the drunken fool would just blow, she could at least see the guy who'd come to her aid. If he was Tyler from history class, then even better.
"Butt out, Ty." Brett smacked his lips. "We were gonna have sex. Me and those lovelies." He reached out, hands hovering over her chest. "Come to Brett. Again."
Again? Who was this clown? "I wouldn't have sex with you if you were the last man alive," Livia snapped and slapped his hands away. "You spilled beer on me, and you're an ass."
"You'd know." He swayed into her personal space and murmured in a much less slurred tone, "I never forgot you."
Never forgot her? What the hell was this guy drinking? She stared at the drunken gladiator. Nothing about him really stood out. Still, at her age, everything looked a little familiar. He couldn't possibly be him. Isaiah was dead. She'd seen him die over three centuries ago.
"Okay, time for Brett to go home. I don't want shit on my carpet, and she's not interested." The owner of the deep voice stepped out from behind Livia and grabbed Brett's arms. Her jaw dropped. This man was the man. The man. Tyler Wilson embodied her innermost desires, and he was right there protecting her.
Lean muscle filled out Ty's tall frame. What would it feel like to have his hands on her body? To run her fingers through his thick, dark hair and listen to him murmur dirty things as they explored each other's bodies -- what would it be like? A flash of bodies moving together and the look of sheer lust in his blue eyes filled her mind. Oh, good God, it would be almost heaven. Her pussy clenched and liquid heat coated her panties.
If he felt the heat, too. She couldn't hope to be so lucky again. The run-in with Brett or whoever he was had served as a cold reminder of what she'd fallen for and couldn't have.
Both men moved through the throng of people and disappeared. She should stick around and find out if Ty was interested or if he was just keeping an eye on his property. Not that she could blame him. Dumped beer could be murder on a sound system. Not that her opinion mattered much. She was just a partygoer like everyone else there. She folded her arms. Every moment she waited, her conscience ate into her a little more. Waiting made her look weak. It made her look needy. Was she needy?
Maybe. Damn.
No. She'd waited long enough. If he really wanted to talk to her, he'd have come back. She turned and made her way to the apartment door and rummaged through the pile of coats, looking for hers. Guys like Ty had women chasing them in swarms. She'd been witness to that every time she walked out of the Saunders Building. She wasn't going to follow him around like a damned puppy. Coat in hand, she turned toward the door. She plowed into a scantily clad tiger giggling with a cowboy.
"Watch it," the tiger snapped. "Nice wings, though. Costume outlet, or did you get them online? I've been looking for some just like them. I want a set. Michael, buy me some like that."
Livia rolled her eyes. The truth was much too involved. Obscure always worked. "I don't remember."
The cowboy tipped his hat. "Wanna join in?" He bobbed his brows, and his gaze went straight to her chest. "We're always looking for more, and looking at those boobs, you'd be one hell of a third."
"Michael! You said I was the only one," she squealed. "No more thirds."
Michael shrugged. "Can't blame me for asking." He turned his attention back to Livia. "You in?"
If they only knew what she'd done during her lifetime. "I'm good. No thanks." Livia ducked her head and stepped out into the hallway. She didn't look up until she hit the stairwell door.
Finally. Freedom.
Livia stopped on the landing and stared up at the sky through the round stairwell window. Her heart ached. He was out there somewhere. The one man to complete her. Was he still alive? Had she'd only imagined his death? Or was she doomed to walk the Earth for the rest of eternity, alone?
Tears burned at the corners of her eyes. It was foolish to pine for the assumed dead, especially when they'd parted so badly. Still, Isaiah held her heart and her life in his hands, just as he'd had for the last couple thousand years.
Footsteps thumped behind her, but she didn't bother to look up.
"Angel?"
About the Author
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.
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