Naughty Netherworld Press's Blog: Naughty Netherworld Press on Goodreads, page 7
October 1, 2025
Spellbound Preorder Blitz #rabtbooktours
LGBTQ Romance, Vampires
Date Published: October 3, 2025
Publisher: Changeling Press
A ritual decades ago leads Beau to the one person he never expected to meet: his fated mate.
Detective Beau Kirkland has to work directly with the local vampire house to find a murderer, but that’s the easy part. The difficult part? His attraction to Garrett Dawson’s, one of House Saridan’s top hunters.
Garrett Dawson’s methods are brutal but very effective, even for a vampire. When a mortal detective begins working with House Saridan, Garrett finds himself unable to ignore the attraction between them.
The following excerpt contains material suitable only for readers 18+.
Garrett
There were few things I truly loved in this world, and one was currently in my hand as I took the elevator up to the fifteenth floor of Saridan Tower. No one else shared my addiction to the most amazingly sweet coffee concoction currently sending copious amounts of caffeine through my system. I stepped off the elevator on the top floor and headed down the hall to the usual conference room. I didn’t get any farther than the doorway, though. I simply froze, body alternating between hot and cold.
Normally, these meetings were just the three of us lead Venari and Deacon.
Not today, apparently.
Beau Kirkland looked up at me, eyes wide for a moment. No one said a word -- not even Deacon. Somehow, I got my feet to move and sat opposite the omega cop. It took more effort than I really had this morning to focus on work and not the stupidly hot human across from me.
I didn’t go for twinks like the others. I liked my men older, more experienced. Beau fit that requirement with ease. His short brown hair bore a little bit of gray here and there, and his dark chocolate-colored eyes studied me whenever I glanced at his face. He was a few inches shorter than my own six-three, and unlike most omegas, he was a bit muscular due to his job. Dressed in his dark navy uniform, he presented the most fucking delectable package on the planet. I cursed silently and tore my gaze from his when all blood began rushing south.
Deacon cleared his throat and looked at each of us. “I’m sure you all know one another, but for protocol’s sake, I’d like to introduce Officer Beau Kirkland. He’s our liaison within the police department. He’s also the one handling this latest case on their end. Officer Kirkland, these are my head Venari: Nikolai Hart, Victor Pace, and Garrett Dawson.”
Beau nodded. “Good morning, gentlemen.”
We exchanged the usual pleasantries before Deacon continued. “I’m stepping back for now,” he said, glancing at me briefly, “but I’m here if needed. To that end, the table’s yours, Officer Kirkland.”
“Thank you,” Beau said. He handed each of us several folders. “Eight victims so far, all completely drained. Eyewitnesses have seen the perp in passing, but no one can agree on a description.”
“Could be a Lupyn,” Vic said as he flipped through the contents of one of the folders.
“That was my assumption, but you all know far better than we do if that’s the case.”
I went through the first folder in front of me. Crime scene photos, pics of the victims post-mortem, notes, and statements. I scanned over everything and couldn’t disagree with the shapeshifter idea. It would make sense.
“What do you need from us?” Nik asked Beau. “We’re more than happy to work with you and your folks.”
I’m not sure I would’ve gone that far, but we did need to get this monster off the streets. I might not have been particularly nuts about humans, but that didn’t mean I wished them dead. My methods were saved for my own kind.
Beau passed out papers to us. “These are the last few places he was sighted. He’s a vampire, so we humans are outgunned here. We can help corner him, but capture is a different story altogether.”
Nik nodded. “Agreed. Well, we’re here and ready to go hunting.”
I didn’t miss the slight grimace on Beau’s face before he managed to school it into something more neutral. Apparently, neither did Deacon, but the man just remained silent.
“Thank you,” Beau said. “Please keep me updated on everything. In the meantime, I’ll be at the station downtown, trying to narrow our possible location leads.”
“Thank you for coming to us,” Deacon said. “I guarantee we will be in touch. These guys are my best hunters, and I have no doubt they’ll find this son of a bitch.”
Despite the situation, Beau smiled. “Thank you very much.”
The others left the room, though Beau shot me a cryptic look before stepping out the door. I stayed seated, knowing Deacon had something to say. Sure enough, as soon as we were alone, he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.
“Is this going to be an issue?”
I could’ve played dumb, but he already knew everything. There wasn’t any point. “No. I’m fully capable of working with him.”
Deacon raised one eyebrow. “Really? Because pheromones say otherwise.”
I managed to avoid scowling at him. Lupyns were more sensitive to things like that than Venari. “Unlike Nik, I’m perfectly capable of keeping my dick in my pants, Deacon.”
He didn’t say anything for a few seconds. He was far older than us, and being under his scrutiny made even me feel like a scolded kid sometimes. “Don’t let it get the best of you, Garrett. His job involves danger, and you can’t protect him from that unless you’re mated and bonded completely.”
“Who said I was --” I snapped my mouth shut at his glare.
“I’m old, not an idiot.” Deacon leaned forward and put his arms on the table. “Either fight this until the perp is in custody or fucking claim Beau. I can’t have you out there distracted. Understood?”
“Yes,” I replied, biting back a growl.
“Good. Dismissed.”
I stood abruptly, grabbed the folders and paper, and left the conference room. I made it halfway down the hall before Nik and Vic both cornered me. Fuck.
“That didn’t go well, did it?” Vic asked.
“No,” I snarled.
I continued walking, and they followed me to the elevator. I stabbed the DOWN button and had to unclench my fist before I gave into the urge to hit something. In the door’s reflection, I saw Nik and Vic exchange cautious glances.
We all stepped into the elevator and took it to the lobby. Without another word said, it was a given where we’d wind up. Colby’s was the city’s best diner with the most amazing coffee blends. Maybe the combination of carbs, sugar, and caffeine would calm me down because just the thought of claiming Beau sure as fuck wasn’t doing it.
Quite the opposite, actually.
I was hard as a fucking rock.
Mychael Black has been writing professionally since 2005. He writes gay romance and erotica, but also het romance as Carys Seraphine and queer fantasy as Katherine Cook.
He's an avid PC gamer with a love for RPGs, a horror fanatic, and a fantasy nut. He also has a weakness for anything relating to skulls, dogs, and Spongebob Squarepants.
Mychael lives on the Eastern Shore of the US with his family. He loves to hear from readers, be it via email or Facebook.
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Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress
Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15
Taken By the Sorcerer Teaser #rabtbooktours
Paranormal Women’s Fiction, Urban Fantasy
Date Published: October 3, 2025
Publisher: Changeling Press
She’s never been taken seriously. He’s seen as a geek. Together, they could be unstoppable.
Skylar Graves is a synth -- she can shift into anything. She’s also known all around the world as a billionaire playgirl fool. Parties? She’s had them. Money? Bucketloads. Brains… Well, there’s the rub. No one’s ever believed she had the brains to make the money. No one’s ever believed in her at all.
Enter Brody and a reason to use those brains.
Brody isn’t the best sorcerer. He knows his spells and how to create them, but he’s still learning to control his magic. When he finds his perfect mate, he’ll be set. But is she out there? The trouble is, he’s been tasked with helping other paras find Eerie and he can’t do that alone.
The moment he meets Skylar, he knows he’s found his match, but the problem lies in convincing her she’s more than she ever believed.
Not impossible… right?
EXCERPT
“I am getting into this party.” Brody Teague drove up the winding road to the gravel area at the base of the Skylar Graves property. The music blared and vibrated the ground, even this far out. He hated loud noise and didn’t really want to be here, but he needed to speak to Skylar.
He just knew she was a para and could help him. He knew it.
Still, he couldn’t hide his irritation. How did one woman have so much ridiculous wealth? This wasn’t just opulence, but obnoxious opulence. He’d bet the people attending this party spent more on one pair of shoes than he did on his rent for the month.
Right now, he needed to speak to her. What would she say if she knew she was meeting a true sorcerer who wanted her help? She’d probably laugh. If she helped him, he could develop his potion to allow paras to move in regular society, and also concoct the signal to help paras who didn’t even know they were para to find refuge in Eerie. He knew there were more people out there who could come to the town and find a place to exist and understand their abilities, if they had the signal to get there.
He left his car and trudged the last few hundred yards up the road to the main gate. The number of cars parked every which way in his path amazed him. How were these people going to leave? They’d need choreography or a cop to help them.
Didn’t matter to him. He wasn’t going to be there when they left. He’d get in, give his pitch, hope for the best, and get the hell out of there. He walked up to the gate and admired the wrought iron. The doors swung loose, allowing him onto the property. He’d bet this gate was locked up tight any other time. He touched the iron and the chill settled in his bones. The gate was spooky, really. It looked like a cartoony alien in the middle.
Aliens… He knew they existed, but they didn’t look like the Roswellian versions. They were much more like humans than the actual humans believed. But aliens were good at morphing and shifting to fit their environment.
As he walked among the people having conversations and dancing, he realized he shouldn’t be there. He wasn’t dressed for the occasion. He’d never seen so much purple in his life. People danced by the pool, swaying and gyrating. The men tended to be dressed in suits and tuxedos. The women wore evening gowns. The plethora of sequins caught the light. Glasses clinked and laughter rang out. The music blared even louder and the water seemed to thrum with the beat.
Would anyone notice him? Somehow, he doubted it.
He spied the buffet of food. Every fruit and veggie possible for a tray were spread out on the table, along with a chocolate fountain and a stack of glasses, no doubt filled with champagne. He’d bet it was the most expensive bubbly, at that.
There were people at the side table with powder that might or might not be drugs. He forced himself away from that area. He’d never had a problem with drugs or wanted to try them but didn’t judge anyone who did.
He fought the urge to cover his ears. The noise bothered him. He was a scientist and sorcerer. He needed to concentrate. This place didn’t allow him to do that. He could barely focus.
He scanned the various people at the party and shook his head. She wasn’t there. He’d know Skylar in a heartbeat. Then again, she was about the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Silky blonde hair, willowy and tall, a few curves, and kissable lips. He wanted to look into her brown eyes and get lost.
He balled his hand and gritted his teeth. Damn it. He wasn’t there to drool over her. He was there to ask a question.
Brody focused on the money spent to not only throw the party, but to have this house and lifestyle. The paintings weren’t photos or pictures printed on canvas, but actual works of art. Was that a Picasso? Nah. He tipped his head. Well, maybe. She had the money to buy whatever she wanted, so it was plausible.
He couldn’t imagine having that much cash. He’d barely scraped by all his life. But by being poor, he’d learned how to use what he had and make it stretch to work for his needs. It taught him to be humble, too.
A woman in a blood red body-hugging gown grabbed him. “Look at you. Are you one of the dancers?” She yanked him close and kissed him right on the mouth. “You sure taste good.”
He wriggled in her grasp. “I’m not a dancer.” He had two left feet. “Sorry.”
“Then stay with me.” She tugged him across the expanse of lawn toward the pool. “She brought a few newbs. This one’s right off the farm.”
He managed to disengage himself from her and darted back to the safety of the bigger crowd on the veranda. Why anyone thought they had the right to force themselves on someone else was beyond him. She’d touched him without his permission. Gross.
He didn’t know that woman and was sure she wasn’t a para. Hell, she’d probably slash his ass if she found out he was one. Would they turn on Skylar when they found out she was one? If she was one…
He rested his hands on his hips and surveyed the crowd again. If she’d used some of her money to help paras and not buy another sports car, she’d be a folk hero. There were plenty of paras who needed a hand in getting to Eerie and more who could use help in figuring out what their magic might be.
But she’d chosen to be decadent.
He moved through the people again, looking for her. Nope, she wasn’t there. He’d never forget her hair or smile.
A woman with bright red hair bumped into him, but he doubted she knew he was there.
“I hear she’s a para,” the woman said. “I don’t know how. She’s so normal.”
What a reductive thing to say. He kept his back to her but continued to listen.
“Doesn’t surprise me,” the woman with her said. “She’s a freak. I mean, how else could she have this kind of money and do absolutely nothing? It’s supposed to be her father’s money, but has anyone ever seen him? No. He doesn’t exist. I bet she stole it or it’s created money.”
Judgmental much? He rolled his eyes, then resumed looking through the crowd.
“Think she really is manufacturing the money?” the first woman said.
“Nah,” the other woman replied. “It’s just a way for her to get attention. She’s probably got a dead husband or ex that she bled dry financially.”
“She is an attention-grabber.”
He hated that these people who’d been invited to the party -- or maybe they’d crashed it like he had -- so openly dismissed her. Like she didn’t have feelings or didn’t matter and wasn’t a person. So rude.
Still, he wasn’t so thrilled with Skylar. He wished she’d donate her money or time back to Eerie to help the para community. Paras were dying from harm coming to them via the human and outside world. Vampires were staked for being different. Faeries slaughtered for making magic. Trolls and gnomes killed for being perceived as ugly. It wasn’t right.
A golden eagle soared into the space and flew right past him. The bird seemed to keep circling him.
“Go,” he muttered. “I’m not dinner. Shoo.” Why was this eagle focusing on him? He wobbled. Shit. Was it trained to find the crashers? Could be. He wanted to use a spell to get the fuck out of there, but he’d have to return to get his car. Goddamn it.
The bird flew around him again, then soared across the expanse and landed on the upright next to the DJ stand.
The DJ stopped the music. “And there is Skylar Graves’ famous pet eagle. Who else but Skylar would have an eagle as a pet? So majestic and graceful. But watch out. She has a nasty bite! Let’s give it up for Audra, her eagle!”
The crowd cheered and the eagle soared out of the way, behind the second floor of the mansion.
He groaned. What a ridiculous show of extravagance. It displayed her wealth, sure, but it was a waste of money. The bird should be in the wild or a zoo, where it could be appreciated and admired. Not stuck in a damn mansion with a woman who had more money than brains.
He snorted to himself. Good God, he was being harsh and judgmental.
“Is she here?” someone asked.
“She’s having a party and doesn’t care to show up,” another said. “She’s probably out of the country. She’s never here.”
“I bet we could rob this place blind and she’d never know,” a third person said.
“Except she’s got the best security system. This place is protected better than government vaults,” another voice said. “Don’t try it. This joint will scream and lock down in seconds.”
Brody gritted his teeth again. She had to be there. He had no choice. People were discussing robbing her and belittling her… just like he had. Damn it.
He bowed his head. He had to think about her as a person and para, not a source of money. That’s how they all saw her -- a reflection of her disposable income. She lived her life like nothing mattered. It was all a big party. She didn’t command respect.
Then again, he didn’t exactly command it, either. He did better behind the scenes. Let him stay in his lab with his medicines and potions. There he was fine. All he wanted to do was help his fellow paras.
“Excuse me.” A woman tugged his arm and yanked him out of the main space and behind a curtain.
“What the?” He stared at her. He’d never seen anyone with golden brown eyes. They were transfixing. But she’d grabbed him. “What do you want?”
“You.”
He couldn’t look away from her. Most of her face was concealed behind a black, feathery mask. He could swear he knew her, but he couldn’t place her.
“I need to speak to you.” She held onto him. “Do you know Skylar?”
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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Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15
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September 26, 2025
Campus of Shadows Book Blitz #rabtbooktours
A Psychic Battle for the Soul
Psychological Horror Thriller
Date Published: September 23, 2025
College is rough, but being possessed by a vengeful spirit who wants you to murder your old boss? That’s next-level.
Freshman year was supposed to be a fresh start. But between his party-animal roommate, mounting anxiety, and a creepy black vulture that keeps showing up at the worst possible times, he’s barely keeping it together.
Then the nightmares begin. The voices. The blackouts. And soon, he’s not sure if the darkness closing in is stress… or something else entirely. Something old. Something angry. Something that wants revenge and has chosen him to deliver it.
With his mind slipping, his only hope is a friend who refuses to give up on him… even when the person she’s fighting to save might already be gone.
About the Author
Jo Loveday is the award-winning author of gripping psychological thrillers and chilling horror novels that will keep you up way past your bedtime with just enough romance to make your heart race for more than one reason. Her stories delve into the shadowy edges of the human psyche, exploring morality, madness, and the eerie unknown that lurks beneath the surface of everyday life.
With a background as a registered nurse, Jo brings both compassion and clinical insight to her work, offering an authentic and unsettling look into the human condition. Whether it's a slow descent into madness, a supernatural presence worming its way in, or a moral dilemma that haunts the characters long after the story ends, Jo’s writing grips you by the soul and stays with you long after you’ve turned the last page.
Born in the frosty tundra of Winnipeg, Canada, Jo eventually escaped the cold when a job offer in Florida lured her south. Now a dual citizen of Canada and the U.S., she divides her time between Florida, Georgia, and frequent pilgrimages to Winnipeg. You can find her lurking online at JoLoveday.com.
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September 25, 2025
Earth's Last Encore Book Blitz #rabtbooktours
Science Fiction
Date Published : 07-24-2025
Haunted by his failures and mistrusted by those he fights to save, Duck finds an unexpected ally in Hannily, the Stellaran princess who believes in the potential for unity. Together, they must bridge the divide between two fractured worlds, confronting betrayal, cultural rifts, and their own doubts to give humanity a second chance at survival—or risk losing everything to the void.
About the Author
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September 24, 2025
Buddy Teaser #rabtbooktours
Overcoming Cerebral Palsy, Abandonment, and Poverty
Nonfiction / Biography
Date Published: August 29, 2025
In a world where resilience shines through adversity, "Buddy: Overcoming Cerebral Palsy, Abandonment, and Poverty" offers a moving portrait of a life lived against the odds. Written by a retired radiologist who unexpectedly discovered the power of storytelling, this book chronicles the extraordinary experiences of Buddy, a man with Cerebral Palsy who has defied societal expectations and personal challenges.
The narrative begins on a seemingly ordinary summer bike ride, where Buddy’s remarkable spirit first captured the attention of his fellow cyclists. Despite facing the trials of abandonment and poverty, Buddy's polite demeanor and thoughtful presence soon revealed the depth of his journey. As conversations around the picnic table echoed the desire to share his story, a reluctant author was born. With the encouragement of friends, family, and a determination to honor Buddy's incredible life, the author embarked on a mission to bring this inspiring tale to light.
Through a series of heartfelt interviews, we delve into Buddy’s memories that trace back to early childhood, uncovering a treasure trove of experiences that illuminate his unyielding strength. With contributions from friends who painted the backdrop of his life, this book is not just a biography; it's a testament to the human spirit’s ability to overcome.
"Buddy" is a compelling read for anyone who believes in the power of perseverance and the importance of sharing our stories. Join the author as he takes you through the highs and lows of Buddy’s life, revealing the beauty of friendship, the struggle for acceptance, and the enduring hope that shines through even the darkest of circumstances. Discover why, "If not me, then who?" is a question that resonates deeply within all of us.
Prologue
Buddy Brown knew it.
He had seen it.
It was the vision of what he might look like if he became “Mega Rich.”
His 15-year-old cousin and her boyfriend had driven from Minneapolis to his home in Pillager, Minnesota, and 13-year-old Buddy Brown was mesmerized by their red customized conversion van. It had captain’s chairs, teardrop windows, and a bed in the back. Visualizing what he would do with his vehicle (when the time came) was no problem. He would go to the Ford dealer and ask them to modify a Ford Econoline van into a four-wheel-drive unit. Although the manufacturer had not yet produced a four-wheel-drive van, he knew they had already done it with the F-150 pickup, so adapting a van should be no problem. He would be wealthy enough to pay for the changes.
In addition to the chairs, windows, and bed, customized elements inside would include carpeting along the sides and an upholstered ceiling with tiny colored lights poking through, creating a mysterious mood. The cell phone had not yet been invented in 1973, but Buddy had a concept that a mobile phone could be placed inside a vehicle. His mind excelled at invention, mechanics, and mathematics.
Once he purchased the van, he would drive it to his parents’ home during the night and park it in front of the picture window.
When they awoke and looked outside, they would see that Buddy had made it. He was “Mega Rich.”
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https://mybook.to/BuddyJimRoelofs
September 23, 2025
Viking Teaser #rabtbooktours
Dixie Reapers MC (#24) Bad Boys (#2)
MC Romance
Date Published: September 26, 2025
She brought a child and a secret. He promised protection—and delivered passion.
Karoline: My world crumbled when I found out my brother was killed in action. But the shock deepened when a social worker showed up with Athena—a niece I never knew existed. With my brother’s last wish urging me to seek out his best friend, Viking, I found myself at the gates of the Dixie Reapers MC. What I didn’t expect? The dangerous, inked biker who once teased me as a kid now makes my heart race… and my body ache.
Viking: I never thought I’d see Karoline again, let alone with a kid in tow. The moment I laid eyes on her—all grown up and looking like sin—I knew I was in trouble. But with threats from her brother’s past closing in, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Karoline and her niece safe—even if it means risking my heart and breaking every club rule. But secrets don’t stay buried, and neither does desire.
If you love protective, possessive bikers, secret baby/child tropes, and off-the-charts chemistry, Viking brings you a ride-or-die romance with heat, heart, and a hero who falls hard and fast.
Karoline
Athena fell asleep on the couch after lunch, curled into a tight ball with Hopper the rabbit clutched against her chest. I covered her with a soft blanket, watching the steady rise and fall of her breathing, the way her copper curls spilled across the cushion. She hadn’t spoken a single word since arriving -- not to me, not to the social worker. Not even a whisper. Three hours into guardianship, and I was already wondering if I’d made a terrible mistake thinking I could do this. She was so small, so vulnerable, and so completely shut down that I had no idea how to reach her.
Lunch had been an awkward affair -- me chattering nervously about nothing while she stared at the peanut butter sandwich I’d made, taking tiny mouse bites only after I’d demonstrated that it was safe to eat. She’d followed me around the house like a silent shadow, those watchful eyes taking in everything but giving nothing away. When I’d suggested a rest on the couch, she’d climbed up without protest and simply curled into herself, as if trying to take up as little space as possible.
My heart ached thinking about what might have happened to make her this way. Kris would never have neglected her -- of that I was certain. Had the woman who’d been caring for her done something? The thought made my gut clench in protest. I’d never understand people who could harm sweet innocent children.
I glanced at the small pink suitcase the social worker had brought in, sitting untouched by the front door. Maybe there were answers there. At the very least, I needed to know what she had, what she might need.
Moving quietly so as not to wake her, I carried the suitcase to the kitchen table and unzipped it. The contents were pitiful -- a few sets of clothes, most looking worn and slightly too small. A pair of pajamas with faded unicorns. A toothbrush in a plastic case. A small stuffed dog that had seen better days. I had a hard time picturing my brother neglecting his daughter to this extent, which made me think it had been the caregiver’s fault. And at the bottom, a plastic bag containing an envelope. My breath caught when I saw my name written on the front -- Kris’s handwriting, the familiar slant of his letters making my eyes sting with fresh tears.
“Oh, Kris,” I whispered, running my fingers over the ink. It was real, tangible proof that he had existed, that he had thought of me. That he had trusted me with the most precious thing in his life.
With trembling hands, I opened the envelope and pulled out several sheets of paper. The first was a formal-looking document -- legal paperwork naming me as Athena’s guardian and requesting that I adopt her in the event of his death. It was dated just three months ago, as if he’d somehow known his time was running short. Of course, I’d already handled paperwork like this from the social worker, but seeing a copy my brother personally sent to me hit me hard.
Behind this was a handwritten letter on lined paper, folded in thirds. I took a deep breath and unfolded it.
Lina,
If you’re reading this, then I’m gone, and I’m so damn sorry for that. I’m sorry for a lot of things, especially for not telling you about Athena sooner. I wanted to. Every time we talked, every time I saw you, I wanted to tell you about this amazing little person who has my stubborn chin and your fiery hair. But I couldn’t risk it -- not until I was sure it was safe.
Athena is my daughter. Her mother was someone I met during a mission four years ago. It wasn’t serious between us, but when she told me she was pregnant, I stepped up. When Athena was born, her mother decided she couldn’t handle parenthood and signed over full custody to me. I’ve been raising her with help from friends when I’m deployed.
Here’s the part that’s going to be hard to believe, but I need you to trust me. If I died during a mission -- and if you’re reading this, that’s what happened -- then there’s a chance you and Athena could be in danger. The work I was doing was classified, and there are people who might think I told my family things I shouldn’t have. They might think Athena knows something, or that I left information with her or her caregivers.
I didn’t. I never brought my work home. But these people don’t take chances. So I need you to do something that’s going to sound crazy. I need you to take Athena and go to Lief Hansen -- Viking, as he’s called now. He’s with the Dixie Reapers MC in southern Alabama. He’ll know what to do. He’ll keep you both safe.
I know I’m asking a lot. I know you probably haven’t seen Lief in years. But he’s family to me, and he’ll protect what’s mine. And Lina -- you and Athena are mine. My sister. My daughter. The two people I love most in this world.
Just go to Viking as soon as you can. He’ll explain everything.
I love you, Christmas girl. Take care of my little one.
Kris
I stared at the letter, reading it again, and then a third time, trying to make sense of the words. Danger? People coming after Athena? It sounded like something from a spy movie, not real life. Not my life.
But Kris was dead. That part was all too real.
I glanced back at the couch where Athena slept, peaceful for the first time since I’d met her. Could someone really want to hurt this innocent child? Or me? It seemed impossible, paranoid even. Yet Kris had never been the paranoid type. If he thought there was danger, there must be some basis for it.
And Viking… Lief Hansen. The name sent a complicated flutter through my chest. In my mind, he was still the golden giant who’d called me “Little Kringle” and made my teenage heart race. But he wouldn’t be that person anymore. According to Kris’s letter, he was part of a motorcycle club now -- the Dixie Reapers. I’d never heard of them, but the name alone conjured images of rough men in leather, doing God knows what.
Could I really just show up there with a traumatized three-year-old? What would I even say? Hey, remember me, your old friend’s little sister? The one who used to follow you around like a lovesick puppy? Well, my brother’s dead, this is his secret daughter, and apparently, we might be in danger from mysterious unnamed enemies. Can we crash with you?
It was absurd. All of it.
And yet…
I looked at the letter again, at Kris’s familiar handwriting. I need you to trust me, he’d written. And I did. Always had. From teaching me to ride a bike to helping me through my first heartbreak, Kris had never steered me wrong. If he thought Viking was our best option, then that’s what we would do.
I folded the letter carefully and slipped it into my pocket. Then I walked back to the couch and knelt beside it, studying Athena’s sleeping face. Her long eyelashes cast faint shadows on her freckled cheeks. Her tiny hand clutched Hopper’s ear, keeping him close even in sleep.
“I’ll keep you safe,” I whispered, gently brushing a curl from her forehead. “I promise.”
I had no idea how to protect us from whatever danger Kris thought might be coming. But I knew who might. And no matter how awkward, how difficult it might be to face Lief Hansen after all these years, I would do it. For Athena. For Kris.
Tomorrow, we would find the Dixie Reapers.
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
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Date Night with Death Release Blitz
Welcome to Moonridge, Book 2
Paranormal Mystery/Romance
Date Published: September 23, 2025
Running a B&B in a town cursed by magical drama wasn’t Mina Cartwright’s dream job, but it’s home. After all of the werewolf debacle over the summer, business has flatlined, and she’s barely holding on financially. Her last hope? A surprise booking from the cast of The Real Vampire Wives of Obsidian Hills, who are bringing their reality-show chaos (and impeccable fashion) to Moonridge just in time for the Halloween festival.
But the real trouble begins when Dex Grimm, a mysterious, breathtakingly aloof man with a cane and a suspiciously deathly aura, checks into Room Ten. He says he’s a writer. Mina suspects he’s hiding something … like the fact that he might actually be the Grim Reaper.
As ghostly activity spikes, magical boundaries fray, and her guests (living and otherwise) cause mounting mayhem, Mina finds herself caught between a brewing supernatural crisis and a man known primarily as Death who somehow makes her feel more alive than she has in years.
Add in a reality TV crew, rampaging ghosts, and the underlying danger of an ancient evil reawakening in Moonridge, and Mina’s fall season is about to be to die for.
About the Author
Avery Arujo is the pen name of a socially anxious, awkward, and proudly introverted author of the paranormal mystery/romance series Welcome to Moonridge. Avery lives in the northern U.S., where the scenery is beautiful, the weather perfect, and the food divine. When not writing, you’ll find Avery watching a horror movie or trashy reality TV or reading under a blanket with a cup of coffee, and the world’s sweetest dog trying to prove that they are more interesting than any old book.
For more information about the Welcome to Moonridge series, or to sign up for the newsletter, visit welcometomoonridge.com.
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The Fear Driver Teaser
Horror (various subgenres)
Date Published: September 23, 2025
Bite-sized horror stories are brought to you by twenty-five authors. From creepy crawlies to the seemingly normal pets. From hideous monsters lurking in the dark to charismatic people showing their true colors.
Each tale is precisely 100 words and leaves a long-lasting chilling effect. Some will make you question the security of the world around you, and what's more terrifying than that?
Featuring drabbles by the following authors: Bernardo Villela, K.J. Watson, David J. Vowell, Joshua Ginsberg, A.L. Smith, Petina Strohmer, Zari Hunt, Paul Burgess, Diana Parrilla, Angel Zapata, Vanessa Bane, Marc Sorondo, Jacek Wilkos, Arvee Fantilagan, Jodie Francis, Alex Azar, Andreas Flögel, Jade Kalb, Andrew Buckner, Ken Whitson, Jãnis Bogužs, Andrea Tillmanns, C.L. Hart, S.F.J. Painter, Monica Wenzel, Dragan Ivanović, and J.E. Feldman.
Excerpt
One Moonlit Night Copyright 2025 by C. L. Hart
As fourteen-year-old Nevil Teodoro climbed down the trellis near his bedroom window, a blood-curdling scream pierced the darkness, startling him so badly that he nearly fell. Juan Soto, the head groundskeeper, ran up from the gardens, his clothes covered in mud and his face pale as the moon.
“What’s goin’ on, Ese?” Nevil asked as he finished his descent. “You look like you seen a ghost!”
“Get back in the house, Chico, and call Mama Cecilia.”
“You trippin’, Juan Solo? You want me to call una bruja vieja and not la policia?”
“Ain’t no policia can stop a moon vampire!”
About the Author
C. L. Hart is an editor who writes or a writer who edits. She primarily pens dark fantasy (often Lovecraftian) and sweet romance. She resides in a tiny town on the Northeastern Colorado plains with her adult son, her cat daughter, and her cat grandson. When not editing, writing, or rehabilitating eldritch horrors, she enjoys coloring, crafts, and cooking things that she hopes will be palatable to someone besides the eldritch horrors.
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