Bertena Varney's Blog, page 5

Honey Drop: Book 1 – Volume 1 Krishtina Mayers – Alicia Norman

 

Honey Drop: Book 1 – Volume 1Krishtina Mayers – Alicia Norman
Genre: erotic historical fantasyPublisher: Luv MultimediaDate of Publication: January 20, 2023ASIN: B0BSS4D1R1 Number of pages: 289Word Count:  62,482Cover Artist: Alicia R. Norman
Tagline:  The worlds of gods and men collide when Love and Death embrace.
Book Description:
Honey Drop chronicles the story of willful, beautiful, and headstrong Proserpyn Prina Katsaros, an island noblewoman with a lust for adventure and a taste for the macabre. 
Prina has been obsessed with dark topics and activities, like watching executions and visiting graveyards for as long as she can remember as she believes that to appreciate life, one must also respect death.
One day, a frightening, terrifying man appears, using magic to seduce and play with her senses and heart. Proserpyn is uncertain if he is a wizard, a demon, or something much more overwhelming than that. 
With the help of Abigail, her friend, and lover, Proserpyn will consult the Old Gods and try to find a solution to this lustful madness.
The brainchild collaboration of Krishtina Mayers and Alicia R. Norman, the illustrated novel promises a one-of-a-kind journey from tome to tome!

Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/a8G5LHFHqnM
https://amzn.to/3jhEZ6A

Excerpt 2:

Rain put a soft, wet hiss into the air.

The boots squished onto the grass with each step.

The oiled and hooded cloak protected the woman's gown well.

Her lamp was placed on the highest step of the mausoleum's stoop, right under a slight eave where it would be protected from the weather.

Cheerful and only a little overpowered by the rain, Proserpyn's voice sang.

"Mr. Gregor was kind to children.”

She bent down to wipe some wet leaves and a touch of mud off a step with a spare rag she'd brought.

"Madam Junio donated to all."

She folded the rag and put it reasonably close to her lamp.

"His Grace, the Duke was humble."

She tightened her hood over her head.

"Miss Trishelle loved knitting shawls."

As Prina danced and swayed in place, her steps soon moved with a rhythm that only played in her mind.

"She gave the shawls away, so kindly so openly."

One of her palms extended to catch raindrops.

"She warmed the girl's shoulders while smiling, truly."

The song went on in this manner. In fact, as Prina danced about in the darkness, she passed graves that had the names she'd used. Thanks to the lack of light, they weren't legible, but she knew they were there.

After a few more lines, her feet halted. Her hands slid back under her cloak, where they met at her belly, her arms bent. She turned back to go to where her father's body rested, where she'd placed her oil lamp. She crouched down to touch the thing when she heard a voice she hadn't wanted to hear.

"You couldn't have known any of those people."

Picking the lamp up, she faced the opposite direction. There was nothing unusual in her sight: rain, vague shadows, and outlines–her lantern. Sometimes, there was an occasional streetlamp, but not much else.

It was far too dark.

…She could smell him.

The rain and soggy earth's scent were forgotten. There was burning wood, spice ... and oddly enough hints of dark chocolate and cherries. Did his scent change every time he appeared?

Even though she knew who it must be, she asked, "Who's there?"

The answer, right in her ear, was simple.

"Me."

She quickly spun as she repeated with a higher and more concerned pitch, "Me?!"

The tone turned a little bit more impish, although she could still hear a smoldering hint.

"Would you prefer myself or I?"

He might well have been trying to lick her ear! That is how close it felt!

Shuddering, Proserpyn continued to search for the voice's owner. He must be somewhere! Growing frustration had her brow knitting, "Such cowardice! You won't face a lone maiden in the dark?! Reveal yourself!"

"Is that your wish, Honey Drop?"

Honey Drop?

Proserpyn tried to think of another way to insult the man. She stood there, rain pattering on her cloak. It took around fifteen seconds for her to finally say, "You're irritating and useless. I've no time for such a creature."

She went back to pick up her rag and folded it into a pocket, "I'll leave you in possession of the dead, Sir. No doubt, someone must want you here."

Prina grabbed her lantern and walked off, lighting her path.

Just as she made a slight turn, her heart jumped and she retreated a bit.

A figure was sitting on a rather tall gravestone.

He looked casual as he did it, and this time he wasn't shrouded in black and blue. It was as if he'd known he'd be too difficult to see. Instead, he seemed to be covered in a similar garment of red, or at least Proserpyn's lamp suggested it could've been red. It could also have been orange.

Maybe both.

Well, at least he wasn't hiding.

But ... well ...

Proserpyn's eyes followed the raindrops as they fell down onto the red and orange-clad man. His cloak was so long that it covered the gravestone's front and quite a bit of the earth. When the water landed on the fabric, there weren't any obvious signs of wetness. Neither did the fabric reject the water as if oiled, as her own protective garment had been. The drops seemed to ... disappear ... as if they were falling into something.

It was a detail many wouldn't have noticed, but Prina had been so focused on him that she couldn't help but see the oddity. However, her senses told her not to give a comment.

She stood there, her arm up and out, holding onto her lamp and waiting for the man to speak.

Certainly, he'd have a handful of more words for her, a handful at the very least.

He didn't disappoint.

About  Krishtina Mayers:
Krishtina Mayers is a professional ghostwriter who hails from Bladenboro, NC. She lives in a 100 year-old house with her three dogs and Asatru Norse Pagan beau, Richard, where she pens deliciously dark and sexy works. Her goal is to fully focus on creative writing as she slowly renovates her vintage home.


About Alicia Norman:
By day, Alicia Norman is a copy specialist at a major marketing firm, by night, she is a screenwriter and animator. She lives with her two kids and three cats in the burbs of Dallas, GA, and aspires to share her own brand of historical erotic fiction with  BFF and co-writer Krishtina Mayers. 
Visit Patreon to support her on her mission: https://www.patreon.com/user?u=83953924
Subscribe star adult: https://subscribestar.adult/honey-drops 
Twitter: https://twitter.com/PortlazLuv
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Honeydrops2023/



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After Midnight Raven’s Hollow Coven Book Four Shari Nichols

 

After MidnightRaven’s Hollow Coven Book FourShari Nichols
Genre: Urban FantasyPublisher: City Owl PressDate of Publication: 2/7/2023ASIN: B0BS5CSPD1Number of pages: 160Word Count: 40, 000
Tagline: An ancient curse has kept astrologer Brooke Howe from finding true love until she crosses paths with a sexy-as-sin chef who may hold the key to changing her destiny. 
Book Description: 
An ancient curse has prevented astrologer Brooke Howe from finding true love. She hides her longing by matching others, with the hope of someday changing her fate. When Nico Denopoulos, the gorgeous younger brother of a friend, struts into her shop seeking a soulmate, she’s immediately drawn to his magnetic presence and his romantic heart. She can’t deny the intense sensation that she knows the sexy-as- sin chef, but can’t figure out why.
An ugly divorce has kept Nico laser-focused on the opening of his new restaurant. He’s been single for years, but now loneliness has crept into the cracks of his heart. Fearing that he‘s grown bitter, he has high hopes that Brooke can help him with his problem, except for one thing— the more time he spends with her, the more he wants her—in every possible way.
As much as Brooke wants to believe Nico is the real deal, she fears that when the seasons change, so will his feelings. She’s terrified of falling for him, and despite her best efforts to resist him, they’re inextricably drawn together. She can’t help but wonder if he may hold the secret to reversing the curse and changing her destiny. A secret from their shared past life will either bring them closer, or tear them apart forever.

Amazon     Books2Read

Excerpt:

 “Do you remember when you asked me what my favorite color was?”

The vibration of Nico’s voice made Brooke ache all over. She nodded and gulped her wine, catching a slight buzz. “Aries typically favor red.”

“But I chose purple for the color of the dress you wore at the wedding.”

A surge of heat spread from her cheeks to her neck. His sweet words blew through the last of her defenses. “You remember the color of my dress?”

“I remember a lot of things, tiny details about people that interest me.” Their gazes locked, and she couldn’t look away from the heat and hunger burning in his eyes.  

“I…didn’t know. You never said anything.” Brooke stared at his lips as he lifted his glass. They were full and sensual, perfect for kissing.

“I heard you were taken, and I didn’t want to be a jerk.” The deep timber of his voice slid into her blood, igniting her desire.

“I was, but we broke up.” When the season changed, so did his feelings. And like all the others, she never heard from him again. Another ghost situation. She wondered why she even bothered to date anymore, but then loneliness would creep in through the cracks of her heart, and she’d dive in again.

“I’m sorry, but the way I see it, this is my lucky day. The truth is I’ve been thinking about you for months now.”

The admission sent her heart galloping. His charisma made him shine brighter than any star in the sky. Why get excited? They’d go out a few times, have mind-blowing sex that would last for days. But then summer would turn to fall, and he’d forget all about her, and she’d be left mending the pieces of her broken heart.

“Seeing you again brought my attraction back full force. Keep your fee, Brooke, and go out with me.”

A thrilling sensation moved through her, but she ignored it and pushed on. “I’m flattered, believe me, but I can’t. I don’t date my clients. It’s a strict rule of mine.”

“Technically, I was only a client for about five minutes.” His phone beeped. He glanced at the screen and muttered a curse. “I’m sorry. I have to go put some fires out at the restaurant.” Nico pulled out his wallet and slapped some cash on the bar. “Let me drop you off and make sure you get home safely.”

“I appreciate it, but it’s out of your way. I’ll be fine.” She didn’t want to be alone with him in a confined space. It would be too tempting.

Nico looked like he wanted to argue, but eventually shook his head. “Let’s get out of here.” He rested his warm hand at the small of her back as they walked to the front doors. Searing heat singed through the thin material of her dress, and she swore her panties caught fire.

They stopped at the revolving double door as well-dressed couples walked in and out of the hotel. He leaned down and kissed her cheek, and a soft hum of electricity sparked between them.

“Think about what I said. I’m not going anywhere, unless I read the situation wrong, and you’re not interested.”

“No…it’s not that. I hope you understand why I can’t go out with you. It may sound silly, but I have rules about these types of things.”

“I respect your decision, but I want you to remember one thing.” He bent his head and whispered close to her ear. “Rules are meant to be broken.”

Her breath lodged in her throat. His words left her flushed and too aware of every scorching inch of him. She watched as he pushed through the doors onto the sidewalk and disappeared through the crowd.

Sighing with frustration, tonight she’d nix the bath in favor of an ice-cold shower.

About the Author:
Shari Nichols is a multi-award–winning author who grew up in a small town in Connecticut where haunted houses, ghosts and Ouija boards were commonplace, spurring her fascination with all things paranormal. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, getting her MA in Creative writing, doing yoga, or sharing a meal and a glass of wine with her family and friends. She lives in New Jersey with her husband of thirty years.
Shari shakes up the ultimate supernatural cocktail, combining witchcraft, vampires, suspense, and spice into an irresistible paranormal potion." (InD'Tale Magazine) 
"Amazing characters, romance, and suspense. What more can a lover of paranormal romance hope for?" (Linda Tonis-Paranormal Romance Guild.)
Her novels have won the following awards: The Beverley Award, New York Book Festival Honorable Mention, Paranormal Romance Guild Reviewers Choice Finalist Best Book, Paranormal Romance Guild Reviewers Choice Finalist Best Series, Paranormal Romance Guild Reviewers Choice Winner Best Book, Paranormal Romance Guild Reviewers Choice Winner Best Series, Golden Leaf Finalist Best Book, Golden Leaf Finalist by a New Jersey Author, HOLT Medallion Finalist. Literary Titan Silver Medal Winner. 
https://twitter.com/shari_nich
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Let It Rein A Blue Series Story DP Denman

 

Let It Rein A Blue Series StoryDP Denman
Genre:  MM RomancePublisher: North Shore PressDate of Publication: 3/17/2023ISBN: 978-0-9974491-5-0Word Count: 64,000
Cover Artist: AJ Corza
Tagline: The riskiest games are played from the heart.
Book Description:
According to the tabloids, Kasper Rein is a player on the prowl. Sturdy and sexy, with a voice of pure seduction, he's seldom alone. The fans love him. Men and women want him. Paparazzi stalk him. He's living a rock star's dream -- until someone wants him out of the spotlight.
The new man in Kasper's life wants more than his fame. Mat wants his heart. He's willing to battle his own trust issues for a chance at real love, but someone else wants Kasper out of the way. Cryptic threats and attempts on his life leave Kasper with a charred house, too many visits from the paramedics, and no answers. Kasper must uncover the person behind the violence before it's too late -- and they're closer than he thinks.
Get your copy today and meet the fan favorite of Blue Series readers!
https://amzn.to/409cPLT  

Excerpt:

The door closed behind them, shutting off the bar's karaoke racket, the sudden silence startling. Mat walked down the sidewalk without touching Kasper.

Mat hated that he'd ruined their night. It was a heartfelt moment out of a romantic movie, and he'd screwed it up by getting distracted over something that shouldn't matter.

"I'm sorry," Mat said.

"For what?" Kasper unlocked the car.

"I didn't handle that very well." Mat nodded back toward the bar.

"I think that was my fault. We're not really at the love song phase. I was so into performing, I didn't think."

"It wasn't the song. It was me." Mat took Kasper's hand. "I should have been flattered that a man

I really like was singing to me about how he feels, but I was too busy thinking about other stuff."

"Like what?"

"Like how a guy with a collection of gold records was on stage performing a song meant just for me and how that instantly made me the coolest person in the room. One public performance, and it all went to my head."

The smile started as a twitch in his lips and grew to a grin, melting Kasper's knotted expression.

"Is that why you're upset?"

"That I've spent all this time telling myself your fame doesn't matter, and the first chance I have to prove it, I focus on nothing but that? Yes. I'm upset. What if I've been lying to myself — to you this whole time?"

"You're being too hard on yourself." Kasper caressed Mat's cheek with the back of his fingers.

"Trust me. You haven't lied to either of us."

"How do you know that? I don't even know that anymore." He tried to slide his hand from Kasper's.

Kasper held on to him. "Because I know how it looks when all someone wants from me is bragging rights. This was my fault. I was showing off. I made a public display of what I feel for you. What I should have done was hold you close," Kasper wrapped an arm around his back and pulled Mat against him, "taken advantage of the dance floor," Kasper held their tangle of fingers to his own chest, "and sung it in your ear." Kasper danced with him there on the sidewalk.

Kasper crooned the chorus to him again, quiet and low. This time when he melted, there was no self-absorbed burst of frivolous pride to mangle it. Eyes closed, he heard footsteps pass nearby and ignored them. That was their moment. It had nothing to do with anyone else.

Kasper punctuated the song's last word with a kiss to Mat's ear, humming the final few notes.

Mat couldn't help smiling.

"Better?" Kasper asked, his voice still low.

"Much."

"I'm sorry."

Mat shook off the apology. "Me, too." He rested his chin on Kasper's shoulder. "What happened to us not being at the love song phase?"

"I guess we are, after all."

About the Author:
Award-winning author DP Denman writes addictive, character-driven MM romance from a soggy, moss-covered neighborhood in the Pacific Northwest. Her stories are dramatic and intense, guaranteed to pull you in and hold you hostage to the last word.
https://dpdenman.com
https://twitter.com/dpdenman
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Son of Asmodeus Heaven and Hell Series Book One Barb Jones

 

Son of AsmodeusHeaven and Hell Series Book OneBarb Jones
Genre: Supernatural ThrillerPublisher: Barb JonesDate of Publication: Nov 30, 2022ISBN: 9798218103446ASIN: B0BLXMTCXCNumber of pages: 228Word Count: 53,000 approxCover Artist: Brandie Kae
Tagline: Birthright, Protector, Heaven and Hell
Book Description: Birthright. Protector. Heaven. Hell.
A lone demon hunter, his true birthright unknown, roams the streets of Los Angeles, killing demons to prevent atrocities against the world. As the son of Asmodeus, Sully is a hunter feared by both demons and angels. His world was not the same once he walked into a bar and offered to help Mick, a gothic bartender.
Mick worried about her missing friend until the day she met Sully. The minute he walked into her bar and offered to help, her world changed. Secrets of her destiny unlocked, and he was at her side everywhere she turned. Friend. Protector.
Can they live with the secrets that are revealed to them? Will they survive the chase for the truth between Heaven and Hell?

Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/48P6VADz0G8

Amazon     BN     Kobo

Excerpt:

“Demon hunter, switch with me. She is coming and your father can’t know what we’ve done.”

Sully was now in control and didn’t have time to gather his wits before she ran her hands up and down his torso. He was uncomfortable but didn’t respond to show it. He needed to figure out what had happened, but first fend her off. She was a demon, but beautiful as well.

“Demon hunter, you finally came down here,” she said in a raspy voice as her fingers twirled her hair. Her tongue gave him a little flick in the most sensual way.

He looked at her. Those lips, her eyes, her voice. Intoxicating. She ran her hands all over him, and was quite forceful in her grip, just tight enough to arouse him. Sully tried to stop her, but she threw him against the wall and pushed him onto the floor. She crawled her way on top of him with her face stopping right at his belt. Her hands were toying with his belt while she was breathing slightly heavy.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m whomever you want me to be. Do you want me to be her? Or do you want me to be him?” Slowly, her hands moved to undo his belt buckle, while her tongue moved around her lips in the most tempting of ways. Her eyes never left his. Her body shifted slowly to the left and right, enticing him even more.

“Why do I feel that you’re toying with me, demon?”

“Would you prefer me to be your nightmare or your fantasy?”

She lifted his shirt, exposing his abs. She kissed his stomach in so many places and in the sexiest of ways. He could feel her fingernails lightly scratch against his skin. His mind did not recall the vows he made before, nor did he recall the thought of Mick or the bartender. He was enjoying the moment. His body was responding to her. He tried to pull her face close to his to kiss her.

Finally, his lips met hers.

“Why are you doing this? I’m… I’m the son of Asmodeus.”

“Oh, demon hunter, you are much more than that, and you know it. I know who you really are. I am so curious about you.”

Before she could finish, Sully was lost in her trance. But the soul eater was not. The soul eater fought f11or control and won over him. Through his eyes, the soul eater stared at the demon. His eyes pierced into her, and she must’ve recognized him because she whispered, “Soul eater.”

He just laughed at her and pulled her closer to him, kissing her back with such intensity that she wiggled out of his grasp. She couldn’t break free. But his hands only tightened their grasp and as he held onto her tightly, his body still was responding to her. He was aroused. She tried to hold the soul eater down with her legs and he felt the power in her ankles, but he took his legs and spread them, causing her legs to separate while she remained on top of him.  

About the Author:
Barb Jones is a best-selling supernatural thriller/horror/paranormal romance author, living her best life in Florida. While she is an accomplished IT Professional by day, she fulfills her passion for creating relatable worlds and characters in her supernatural novels. Having grown up in Hawaii, where legends of the supernatural are a normal part of life, Barb has always loved telling supernatural stories while experiencing living in haunted houses, dealing with paranormal occurrences and more. Her Hawaiian heritage plays a major factor in a lot of her writing. Before writing, she received her master’s degree in Information Systems as well as in Accounting and Finance.
Through her writing, Barb has developed a friendship with her readers unlike any other. She has been known to send birthday cards, travel to meet them in person and more.
https://www.thebloodprophecy.com/
https://www.tiktok.com/@barbjones_author
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Pirate Lover’s Curse Sleepy Hollow Hunter

 

Pirate Lover’s CurseSleepy Hollow Hunter Book ThreeSheri Queen
Genre: Urban Fantasy RomancePublisher:Wilda PressDate of Publication: December 22, 2022ASIN:B0BQX5Y4S5Number of pages:274 print pagesWord Count: 76,321Cover Artist: SQ Flemming
Tagline: Half wolf. Half were-cat. One-hundred-percent kick-ass Bounty Hunter.
Book Description: 
Lykoi shifter Janda Gray never expected to be cut off from her fated mate.
But when a centuries-old pirate curse stands in the way, Janda finds herself in a race to unearth a treasure that will break the curse and set Alex free.
As the past and present collide, she realizes the bounty hunter skills she's honed over the years aren't enough to defeat her nemesis—the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow.
Janda struggles with the burden of being the last descendent of the witch who cast the curse—and the only one capable of fixing past wrongs and saving those she loves.
Can she embrace her witch heritage and wield her power before it's too late?
Or, will she lose her mate to the Underworld forever and leave the supernatural community to the mercy of the Headless Horseman?
—————This is a fated-mate shifter story suitable for 18+. The Sleepy Hollow Hunter series is perfect for urban fantasy fans who enjoy immersive stories of adventure and slow-burn romance. It features witches, ghosts, vampires, demons, and several enticing shifters, and a love story that transcends time. A hybrid shifter discovers her found family and hidden magic.
Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/HIcxeADNNuc 
Amazon: https://amzn.to/3i9ySRq

Excerpt:
“Why does anything pertaining to you have to come with extra baggage?” Uncle Damon said. His dominant pack power surged, affecting the others nearby and making them restless.
The air crackled with his energy. I held my ground. His words stung, but he’d never hear me say it. I’d had lots of practice over the years keeping my hurt from showing, but at this moment, I lashed out with a barb of my own.
“I’m just lucky that way. Kind of like you.” I tapped the desk with my fingertips, knowing he hated it and narrowed my eyes at him.
He sure as hell had his own baggage when it came to relationships and pack bonds, especially when it came to anything with my mother.
“If the two of you are done poking at one another, I’d like to move on to the pertinent issue of the cursed map,” Sebastian said. He stood a good foot away from his desk and peered down at the map as if it might explode.
Everyone had a hands-off approach to the map after I’d blurted out that it was cursed.
“It won’t curse you just by touching it,” I said. “At least, not from what Gwenn or I could tell. It has a hidden layer that will attack you if you try to force it out in the open.”
“That’s just great,” Mutther said. “I suppose you found out firsthand?”
“Not me. Gwenn did. I was the innocent bystander.”
“Right. How innocent?” Nick said. He moved to Mutther’s side and viewed the map from farther away. Neither of them was taking any chances.
Not that I blamed them. They had suffered from being too near me in the past. Mutther was still rebuilding his bar.

About the Author:
Sheri Queen writes immersive stories of adventure and romance.
Her urban fantasy and paranormal women's fiction stories feature snarky bad-ass women, strong female friendships, found family, and sexy romance.
Sheri received her MFA in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University. She grew up in the Hudson Valley region of New York—an area she loves to depict in her stories. She enjoys traveling to new places where she is constantly discovering inspirations for her writing. She especially loves visiting old graveyards.
https://sheriqueen.com/
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Tale of a Body Thief by Kristy Centeno

 

Tale of a Body Thief Rovena Silvex Book OneKristy Centeno
Genre: Urban FantasyDate of Publication: May 12, 2022Number of pages: 441Word Count: 128000Cover Artist:Ammonia Book Covers
Book Description:
Her special abilities can save lives, but so can they kill.
Rovena Silvex has hunted and eliminated dozens of demons throughout the ten years since her initiation as a hunter. Possessing supernatural skills only makes her job a lot easier.
When she’s asked to visit the county morgue to look over a deceased victim and find out what demon killed him, the body rising from the dead is the last thing she expects.
Now Rovena is stuck with a walking corpse and no answers as to how he managed to return to the world of the living. However, the victim has changed and the more time she spends with him, the more she realizes that what crossed over might not have been the soul of the dead man but something much worse.
Complications arise when her new assignment is targeted by demons hell-bent on making sure he stays dead for good.
Killing demons has always been a piece of cake. Keeping one alive however, is a whole new ballgame for her. If she fails, she risks setting in motion a war between heaven and hell. But if she succeeds, she could trap a powerful Lord in a world he doesn’t belong in, forever.

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Excerpt

Rovena reached out again, hoping more contact would provide more insight. It didn’t happen often, but sometimes she got another glimpse into the victim’s life when she prodded further. It was the only tool she could make good use of now, and she was desperate enough for answers to try again. Even if reliving his death was the last thing she wanted to do. Or see.

She extended her fingers, dreading touching the cold skin but determined to do it just the same.

A cool breeze behind her ceased her progress. She froze with her fingers midway to their destination as goosebumps broke across her skin. She whirled around, expecting to find someone or something standing there.

The space behind her was empty.

Tiny tremors pulsated across her palms. Not the usual response when a demon was nearby but an alarm that warned her something otherworldly was at work.

Something otherworldly that she couldn’t envision.

Thank the heavens for her built-in danger detector. Not many in her field were blessed with the same, and hers always came in handy, even if she couldn't always find what hunted in the shadows.

The inability to see what had momentarily entered the room suggested it wasn’t a demon. But whatever it was had moved on as quickly as it appeared.

She turned back to the corpse in front of her and nearly jumped out of her skin.

His eyes were wide open and staring right at her.

What the actual fuck.

Rovena had seen some crazy shit in her life, but this was bizarre even for her.

Fast as a cobra, he struck, aiming for her throat. She had no time to react before his hand closed around her windpipe. Glowing red eyes glared up at her while long, lean fingers tightened dangerously around her neck. The man forced her back as he sat up and slid off the gurney. The blanket covering the lower half of his body fluttered to the floor and pooled at his feet. He stepped over it as he pushed her toward the wall behind her, his grip narrowing as he moved.

About the Author:
Kristy Centeno loves to spin tales of creatures that go bump in the night, with a sprinkle of romance to top them off. Her passion for writing stems from a lifelong enjoyment of reading and the pleasure derived from the magical worlds created by authors like her. She prefers her female leads strong, independent, and stubborn who will stop at nothing to save their loved ones and protect those they care for.
Kristy currently resides in Pennsylvania with her five kids, a quartet of noisy parakeets, and a spoiled puppy. When she’s not working or writing, she juggles her free time between raising a handful of minions and pursuing other career goals.
Website: https://booksbycenteno.wordpress.com/
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Titanian Warrior by Victoria Saccenti

 

Titanian WarriorTitanian Chronicles Book ThreeVictoria Saccenti
Genre: PNR/Fantasy RomancePublisher: Essence PublishingDate of Publication: January 31, 2023ISBN: 9798987432211   ASIN: B0BNZFHM28Number of pages: app 245Word Count: 82825Cover Artist: Scott Carpenter
Tagline: One woman holds the key to his destiny—and his people’s salvation.
Book Description: 
Hagen drags himself to the gates of Hell, body and soul shredded by the bloodlust that consumes all the unmated of his kind. Awaiting the painful atonement that will buy him ten more years to find his eternal mate—or face oblivion. But Hades himself kicks him out with the bloodlust still prowling, unsatisfied, in his veins. 
Bargained away by her parents to Master O, a mysterious, cruel wizard, Faiza serves in his household, keeping her small magic a secret, plagued by wild, confusing visions of a strange, suffering man. Then the master brings home a wounded Titanian warrior whose touch sends ice, fire, and desire racing through her body. 
When she learns Master O plans to use Hagen as a weapon to conquer all races, she devises a desperate plan to free him—a plan that opens a portal to a world she’s never known. And a destiny entwined with danger that could destroy them all.
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Excerpt:

Shivalik Hills, Nepal

The towering pair of boulders stood as gatekeepers and markers of the way. A steep path snaked between them until farther down the hill, the road disappeared in thick fog. Leaning on the closest rock, Hagen steadied himself to catch his breath, then pushed on.

Bloodlust crippled his Titanian vision. Still, he stumbled, rolled, and crawled over jagged rocks and gnarled roots with single-minded determination to reach his appointed meeting place, the cavern at the base of the Shivaliks, and the sole entrance to Hades’s domain on the earthly plane. A perverse satisfaction filled him each time he scraped and sliced his exposed skin, as this was only a precursor to the punishment he deserved. If he could shred his flesh to strips in anticipation as he had done with his clothes, so much the better.

Hagen advanced through the haze, seeking the deity’s promised signal. Images of his frenzy during the last skirmish prodded him. He strained past gore-filled images, and the effort paid off. There, deep within the haze, a faint red light marked the spot. Alecto had not forgotten. A hitched breath escaped his lungs as he stood and trod on a more secure step.

As the haze dissipated, the cavern’s hungry mouth gaped before him. Healing and deliverance acquired through pain would soon be his. As he inched closer to the wavering light, he removed the last remaining strips of clothing. The offering had to be bare and unadulterated. Nothing but skin would satisfy the Fury, purify his spirit, and postpone the horror of termination for another ten years—a mere blip in the lifespan of a Titanian. And yet, a decade offered hope and an opportunity to continue his search for true salvation: his eternal mate.

His brother Soren had been at the edge of obliteration when the universe revealed Maya’s symbol in his scrolls. He’d been given a Simurgh, no less, the most powerful of all phoenix mates. Soren’s joy and deliverance had pleased Hagen without reservation or a covetous thought. His brother had earned such a high reward.

But what about him? Was he unworthy of an eternal mate, of love, and companionship? He’d only wished for a small slice of heaven. His cousin Roald had found eternal happiness with Ginny. Staring at an endless existence of service and loneliness was a frightening prospect for a Titanian of any rank.

Hagen could never be the brilliant fighter Soren was, and had, on occasion, not followed every command to the letter. Nevertheless, he’d proven his mettle and unwavering loyalty to the Titanian cause in and out of combat. Many a night, he’d promised to change his unorthodox ways and toe the line, if only the universe would grant him a phoenix mate.

Alas no, he’d been denied time and again. After witnessing from the sidelines the mating ceremony and resulting Titanian bliss, frustration burned a hole in his chest. Before the emotion turned to bitterness, he’d escaped to his old daemon hunting grounds in Asia.

On his flight back, he realized that his cherished airplane and state-of-the-art electronic gadgets no longer satisfied or entertained him. Even that last bit of gratification had been taken from him. Because seeing happiness unfold for Soren and Roald had displayed in real time what mattered: the completion a mate brought to a Titanian’s soul. The beaming couples had stepped up onto a new plane of existence. After witnessing their ascendance, no fancy equipment could ever fulfill him.

The hole in his chest turned black and cold.

Blood hunger, the deadly lust, awoke.

Visions tortured him. Rage drove him to living nightmares. He searched for minion hideouts and sought conflict at every turn. In the heat of these encounters, bloodlust blinded him to allies and friends who’d trusted him with their lives. Asian black bear and clouded leopard shifters had perished under his hands. While his bewildered, dying friends pleaded for their lives, he’d only seen minions. The red haze controlled him, and he’d indulged the insatiable hunger to spill all blood.

The last clash had been the worst. Standing on a promontory, Hagen viewed an endless battlefield stained with red blood, green ooze, and mutilated remains. And as the mental fog cleared, horror captured his soul and he fell on his knees, begging the universe for help.The chthonic deity, the implacable Alecto, heard and replied in his mind.

“Await my arrival at the place of atonement.”

Explanations had not been necessary. Hagen’s Titanian spirit, same as every supernatural in the earthly plane, knew the location of the terrible gate. In eras past, he’d avoided going near it. Now, stripped to his natural state, defeated and humbled, he entered the darkness with a bowed head and an anxious demeanor.

To his right, four stonelike posts, spread in a rectangular formation, jutted out of the rock wall. Hagen studied them, unsure of what to do.

“Step in. Face out and clasp the posts. Place your ankles outside each one,” the Fury instructed.

“Receive and accept the pain, Titanian. Do not flinch or resist. Show your contrition. Only then will the universe accept your offering.”

About the Author:
Award-winning, multi-genre author Victoria Saccenti writes romantic women’s fiction, contemporary romance, and paranormal romance. Not one for heart and flower stories, she explores the edgy twists and turns of human interaction, the many facets of love, and all possible happy endings.  After thirty years of traveling the world, she’s settled in Central Florida. She splits her busy schedule between family and her active muse at Essence Publishing. However, if she could convince her husband to sell their home, she would pack up her computer and move to Scotland, a land she adores. On a side note, in one form or another, Scotland appears in most of her stories.
Web Site: https://www.victoriasaccentiwrites.com/
Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/~/e/B013H2XYPK
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/VictoriaSaccentiAuthor/ 
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/victoria.saccenti.author/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/VictoriaSAuthor
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/victoria-saccenti
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14126330.Victoria_Sacce




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Hell Holes: A Slave’s Revenge Hell Holes Book Four

 

Hell Holes: A Slave’s RevengeHell HolesBook FourDonald Firesmith
Genre: SciFi, Dystopian, Alien Invasion Publisher: Magical Wand PressDate of Publication: August 1, 2021ISBN: 979-8527374209 (Paperback — Amazon KDP)ASIN: B09416M34X Number of pages: 455Word Count: 105,000Cover Artist: Ellie Augsburger 
Tagline: An epic story of love, loss, friendship, and survival under the most hellish of conditions Book Description:
A multi-award-winning prequel to the Hell Holes series of alien invasion novels, Hell Holes: A Slave’s Revenge is an epic story of love, loss, friendship, and survival under the most hellish of conditions.
A typical Alaskan teenager, Paul’s greatest joy is hunting and fishing with his father. But when alien demons attack his family’s isolated cabin, they shatter Paul’s comfortable life. After killing his father, the demons enslave Paul, his mother, and his twin sister and teleport them to a desert world in the Demonic Empire. Once on the planet Hell, the captives’ survival is far from certain, and they face a terrible choice. They can either live as useful slaves or be immediately slaughtered as food for the merciless demons.
With his demon masters demanding their slaves’ absolute obedience to their brutal human overseers, Paul soon learns to hide his burning hatred and desire for revenge behind the stoic expression of a servile slave. But as the years slowly pass, Paul adapts to survive, first as a field slave and then as a gladiator. Will he live long enough to take his revenge, or will Paul’s years of slavery rob him of his will to resist and cost him his humanity?
Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/BZfNSeO_f8w   Amazon: https://amzn.to/3HCOVBt

Excerpt:

Prologue

MY NAME IS PAUL CHAPMAN. When I was just fifteen years old, a band of demonic aliens murdered my father and captured my mother, sister, and me. These vicious creatures — the source of humanity’s myths of devils, imps, and hellhounds — took us through a hidden portal to Hell, the nearest planet to Earth in their vast empire. I spent the next twenty-three years there as their slave.

I was rescued during the Armageddon War and became the only captive human to ever escape from Hell. Over the following months, members of the US military and various specialists spent countless hours interviewing and debriefing me to learn everything I knew about Hell and the demons. They provided a therapist to help me recover from my horrendous experiences and adjust to my new life back on Earth. She recommended I document my life as a slave. This book is my story: the autobiography of my life as a slave on Hell.

The Hunt-Chapter 1

MY PARENTS, Robert and Mary Chapman, met while first-year students at the University of Alaska, Fairbanks. He studied wildlife biology while she studied anthropology, concentrating her studies on the history and culture of the native Inuit. Although they had grown up in the Lower 48, they fell in love with Alaska and decided to remain after graduating.

Dad had hoped to obtain a job as a wildlife biologist, but such jobs were rare and paid little. Mom hadan even harder time finding suitable work. So, when my maternal grandfather died two years later, my parents decided to use her modest inheritance to buy a dry cabin and live a subsistence lifestyle. They would hunt caribou and moose, trap small game for furs and food, and fish for salmon during spawning season.

Mom and Dad eventually bought a cabin on the north shore of the Kobuk River. Only seven miles upstream of the tiny town of Kobuk, the house was close enough to make buying provisions easy. The town’s simple landing strip also made visiting relatives practical and would enable evacuation in case of a medical emergency.

Miles from their nearest neighbors, the cabin was also isolated enough to offer all the seclusion a family could ever want. Nestled between the nearby river and the Brooks Range a few miles to the north, my parents had found the home of their dreams.

My twin sister, Sarah, and I were born a few years later, and we grew up in some of the most beautiful land imaginable. The chores were many, the work was hard, but the rewards of freedom and the wilderness’s majesty made the hardships well worthwhile. I loved the life and couldn’t imagine ever leaving it.

This story begins when Sarah and I were fifteen. It was early August, and the Chinook salmon were running up the river to spawn. After breakfast, Mom and Sarah were going fishing. Dad and I had built a fish wheel, an ingenious tool that automatically catches the salmon. An underwater fence forces some of the fish towards the wheel that the river’s current turns. Baskets attached to the wheel’s rim scoop up the fish and dump them into a box. Mom and Sarah were going to carry the salmon back to the cabin, clean them, and hang them up over a fire in our smokehouse. Their work would ensure we would have plenty of smoked salmon to eat during the long Alaskan winter.

While they were fishing, Dad and I would hunt moose and check our traps for small game. We took our rifles and headed upriver away from town. We left our dog, Sergeant, behind so her barking would warn Mom and Sarah of any bear that might be attracted by the smell of our fish.

We started by checking our traps, but they were empty. Not a single one had been tripped. And we didn’t spot any small game even though we didn’t talk, and we walked carefully to avoid making any unnecessary noise.

When it was nearing lunchtime, we turned around and headed back to our cabin. This time, instead of following the river trail, we hiked up towards the nearby mountains forming the southern edge of the Brooks Range. As before, the area seemed completely devoid of animal life, which was pretty unusual. We’d typically see something, even if it was too far away or on the far side of the river.

About halfway home, we spotted the remains of a bull moose that had been recently killed.

Because the bears were busy with the salmon, we initially thought it had been brought down by wolves. But it wasn’t. Enormous chunks of flesh had been removed in single bites, and the bites’ edges were too clean to have been made by wolves or bears.

It was strange that we couldn’t identify the tracks in the soft ground around the carcass. There were many large and small hoof prints, but they were shorter and rounder than moose and elk tracks.

Stranger still were the giant paw prints from the carnivore that had brought down the moose.

Easily twice the length of wolf prints, they had only three toes, and the separate claw marks were much longer than wolf or even bear claws. Dad, the biologist, was stumped. The prints didn’t seem to belong to any Alaskan wild animal or to any animal for that matter. The only tracks he could think of that were even somewhat similar were those of ostriches, emus, and cassowaries.

But the claw marks were too short for ostrich and emu tracks, and the cassowary only has one claw that long, not three.

“Dad, how about a really big dog?” I asked. “Maybe a Newfoundland had lost a toe.”

Dad shook his head. “Can’t be. See how the toes are arranged symmetrically? And besides, why would a dog have the same toe removed on each paw?”

“What about a dinosaur?” I suggested jokingly.

Dad actually considered it for a second before answering, “You know, it does look a little like a theropod footprint. It might have been a reasonable hypothesis if it weren’t for the little fact they’re all extinct except for the birds. No, this has to be a hoax. Someone’s trying to start a rumor about a strange beast roaming the Alaskan wilderness. Probably wants to draw tourists hoping to catch sight of the mythological creature.”

“But Dad, what about the bite marks?”

“My guess is that they used a curved knife to make them. Still, whoever did it did a good job.

They had me going for a bit. Come on, let’s head home and tell the girls about our mysterious find.”

So, we hiked back to the cabin and had lunch with Mom and Sarah. They told us about the baskets of fish they had caught and cleaned. We told them about the moose kill we’d stumbled on, the strange tracks, and the huge bite marks. Mom agreed with Dad that it wouldprobably turn out to be a hoax, but Sarah wasn’t sure what to think.

After lunch, Dad and I headed out again to see if we’d have any better luck hunting. We didn’t.

The animals, both big and small, were still missing, and we were once more forced to come back empty-handed. I did, however, carry my camera with me and took some pictures of our find. For a laugh, I figured I would upload them onto Facebook the next time I was back in town where I could get internet service.

 

About the Author:
Donald Firesmith is a multi-award-winning author of speculative fiction including science fiction (alien invasion), fantasy (magical wands), horror, and modern urban paranormal novels and anthologies of short stories.
Prior to retiring to devote himself full-time to his novels, Donald Firesmith earned an international reputation as a distinguished engineer, authoring seven system/software engineering books based on his 40+ years spent developing large, complex software-intensive systems.
He lives in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania with his wife Becky, his daughter Sera, and varying numbers of dogs and cats.
Website: http://donaldfiresmith.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/don.firesmith/

A Grave Roast Orchard Hollow

 

A Grave RoastOrchard Hollow Book OneA.N. Sage
Genre: Paranormal Cozy MysteryPublisher: Cauldron PressDate of Publication: January 23, 2023ISBN: 978-1-989868-28-7ASIN: B0BPDXZ7F5Number of pages: Approximately 340Word Count: 80,000Cover Artist: Cauldron Press Designs
Book Description: 
Piper Addison has three problems: a broken espresso machine, malfunctioning magic, and a dead body. Guess which one she doesn’t see coming?
One month from forty, Piper Addison thinks she finally has life figured out. Sure, her bank account could be fuller and the cafe she opened with the last of her savings could use some help, but what’s a few kinks for an Orchard Hollow witch?
Too bad Piper can’t witch to save her life, which is exactly what she might need to do when a dead body is discovered in the alley behind her cafe. To make matters worse, all the evidence points to Piper and the local sheriff is not too keen on the town’s paranormal inhabitants.
When a mysterious envelope lands on Piper’s doorstep, she has a decision to make: go behind the sheriff’s back and try to clear her name, or spend her fortieth birthday in a prison cell.
A Grave Roast is a paranormal cozy mystery complete with an unlucky witch, a ghost familiar, and a feisty raccoon with a talent for getting into sticky situations.

Amazon https://amzn.to/3PrxCFk 

Excerpt:

We started for the front door when my attention caught on something on the floor of the hall. Close to the bedroom lay a small carpet with two silver dishes, one filled with water and the other empty. I bent down and picked up the empty dish, reading the inscription etched into the metal. “Margaret the Third.”

“Who?” Stella asked.

I put the dish down. “Daniel’s dog. Did you see a dog around here?”

The ghost shook her head and looked around.

“Me either. Very odd.”

“Maybe someone else has it? Or the police took it or something?”

My thoughts ran a mile a minute, and I steadied my breathing, continuing the trek to the front. “Maybe.” Before leaving, I went back into the kitchen and opened all the cupboards.

Motioning for Stella to get closer, I nodded toward the big bag of dog food in one cupboard. “Don’t you think if they took the dog, they’d take her food?”

“I don’t know,” Stella said. She opened her mouth with a fake yawn. “Well, this was about as fun as a trip to the dollar store, so good luck with the rest and I’ll see you at home.”

With that, she disappeared, leaving me alone in the apartment once more. I stared at the dog food for another few minutes, trying to figure out why someone would take Daniel’s dog, but not anything to feed her with. If Daniel had a dog sitter, I was sure they’d take care of the animal, considering how important she was to the warlock. And if it was the police who took her… I shook the thought away. Why did the police need a spoiled brat of a dog? If anything, they’d ship her off to a shelter.

I made a mental note to check the animal shelter in the morning to ease my spinning mind and walked to the front. Before I left, I cast a glance at the stack of papers on the console table where Cilia’s threatening email hid in the pile.

“Why was she so angry with you?” I asked the empty room.

The next question I kept to myself, refusing to give it power. Was Cilia angry enough to kill? If it was her that hurt the warlock, it still didn’t explain the envelope I received or the talisman. Unless the talisman was Cilia’s and Daniel stole it?

But why?

It seemed the visit to the warlock’s apartment only sparked more questions, and I still found nothing that could help clear my name in the eyes of the police. “What if—No, don’t even think about it!”

I reached for the door handle.

“Don’t think about what?” Stella asked behind me.

My mind must have been spinning furiously because this time, I didn’t have a mini heart attack when she snuck up on me. “I thought you went home.”

“I did. Turns out it’s quite a bore there as well,” she explained. “So, what is it you shouldn’t think about?”

Lips in a thin line, I looked at the console table again. “Just wondering about the dog,” I told her. “And the hex pouch. And Cilia.”

“Who’s Cilia?”

“One of Nancy’s coven mates. Looks like she was pretty ticked off with Daniel for some promotion he got. I was wondering if she could have been mad enough to do something about it.”

Stella’s face paled, or as pale as it could get for a ghost. “Witches will be witches, darling.” She turned around and started to vanish again, but before she did, she said something absolutely crazy. “If you’re that worried about it, why not ask her yourself?”

As my wild familiar disappeared, her words lingered in the air where she once stood, and for the first time, I didn’t think her insane. I hated to admit it, but Stella had a point. There was one clear way to answer all my questions and find out how I got roped into this gruesome situation.

I had to question Cilia, and I had to do it before the police. If I was right and she had something to do with Daniel’s death, I knew the witch would pin the entire thing on me, if only for the chance to gain favor with Nancy.

This, friends, was exactly why I didn’t have a coven.

You couldn’t trust a witch, not in Orchard Hollow.

About the Author:
A.N. Sage is a bestselling, award-winning author of mystery and fantasy novels. She has spent most of her life waiting to meet a witch, vampire, or at least get haunted by a ghost. In between failed seances and many questionable outfit choices, she has developed a keen eye for the extra-ordinary.
A.N. spends her free time reading and binge-watching television shows in her pajamas. Currently, she resides in Toronto, Canada with her husband who is not a creature of the night and their daughter who just might be.
A.N. Sage is a Scorpio and a massive advocate of leggings for pants.
https://ansage.ca/
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Sight Beyond the Sun Love Beyond

Sight Beyond the SunLove BeyondBook TwoMelody Johnson
Genre: Sci-fi RomancePublisher: Incendi Press, LLCDate of Publication: January 24, 2023ISBN:978-1-7351499-5-0 ASIN: B0BG8P1596Number of pages: 602 Word Count: 147,970Cover Artist: Trif Book Designs
Tagline: Separating truth from lies is impossible in the game of spies...especially the lies you tell yourself. 
Book Description:
A prison break. 
Adrenaline junkie and explosives specialist Kinsley “Switch” Morales had a chip on her shoulder long before being caught in what she suspects is some sort of intergalactic human-trafficking ring. Aliens not only exist, their reptilian bodies are stronger, their honed reflexes faster, and their shiny scales nearly impenetrable. But nothing will curb Kinsley’s resolve to commandeer their spaceship and return home to Earth—even if that means crawling behind enemy lines and cozying up to their uncompromising captain. 
An undercover mission. 
When Raveno Hoviir catches Kinsley outside her cell, wreaking havoc in his control room, he sees more than just her strength, resolve, and courage. He sees a golden opportunity to finally root out the traitor under his command and prove his brother’s loyalty before the coming revolution. After so many years undercover, Raveno is finally one mission away from saving his planet from its tyrannical ruler. He’s sacrificed everything to protect his people—his love life, his anonymity, his left leg—but in his efforts to right his father’s wrongs, has he inadvertently become the very monster he plans to overthrow? 
An unlikely alliance. 
As Kinsley and Raveno each attempt to exploit the other, they find more than just leverage for their separate missions. Inexplicably, they find common ground in their mutual devotion to family and service. Kinsley knows all too well the grief and guilt of making the wrong decision in the field, but will Raveno keep his word to send her home if she flips loyalties? Is Raveno’s softening heart compromising his judgment, or is Kinsley’s intelligence accurate? Separating truth from lies is impossible in the game of spies. Seeing beyond their surface differences and trusting in love again may be the only way to save both their people—and each other. 

Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/5Be6x31jUgs

Meet the Author: https://youtu.be/hHQh7-MVEN0   

Amazon:  https://amzn.to/3S5MycN

Excerpt:

Raveno Hoviir didn’t suffer incompetence. He didn’t suffer anything without consequence, a policy his crew was testing time and again lately and without any perceivable sign of becoming more competent. His reputation, carefully cultivated over a long and brutal career, was usually incentive enough to inspire obedience. He couldn’t let that reputation crack, not for anything: not for his morals as he punished decent soldiers for mistakes that didn’t warrant such severity; not for his soul as he led abominable missions to maintain alliances with Bazail, Iroan, and Fray; not for his body as he’d gone to unmatched extremes to prove his loyalty to Cilvril s’Hvri Josairo.
He played the villain in service to his people, a role as necessary as it was revolting.

During Josairo’s early reign as Cilvril s’Hvri, the killing hand of Havar, he’d been the strength and armor their planet had needed to survive what historians now referred to as the War of Wrath’s Will. After bolstering their military forces and gaining the autonomy to wield them as he deemed necessary, Josairo achieved what four previous Cilvrili s’Hvri had died failing to accomplish: He’d secured Havar’s independence from her sister planet, Haven, and ended years of oppression and tyranny.

Or so the historians claimed and the schools taught. Based on Raveno’s first-hand experience, he often wondered if Josairo hadn’t simply murdered historians until he’d found one willing rewrite the war to his liking.

Nevertheless, however he’d managed to wrest unilateral control of their military and judicial systems, Josairo’s unmatched combat skills ensured he kept it, even as he modified their fleet of luxury destination ships into prison transport vessels. Even as he ordered the abduction and trafficking of innocent, sentient people. Even as the peace and prosperity he’d supposedly achieved following their victory against Haven soured into fear-filled obedience. In earning their independence, the havari had traded a foreign tyrant for a domestic one, and every warrior brave enough to challenge Josairo to a frisaes and legally end his rule had thus far lost.

When Raveno ended his rule, it wouldn’t be legal. But he would win.

Until then, the weight of Raveno’s sins were his to bear or be crushed by. Which made confronting the horrific results of his own undercover operation insufferable, knowing his reputation would demand he deliver swift and harsh punishment when faced with his crew’s greatest incompetence to date: a human outside her room and tampering with the equipment in their control room, of all places.

Dellao and Tironan were asleep in their seats, and the woman, cry mercy, the woman was fierce as only a mother could be, all snapping eyes and straining muscles. Some people withered from the poison of oppression, but not her. She seemed fueled by it. She gritted her square teeth with determination. Her soft cheeks flushed a deep crimson from her efforts, and her scent—Raveno sealed shut his nostrils, cutting short that disturbing thought before it could fully form.

“Who do you work for?” Thev sa shek, a traitor on board Sa Vivsheth was the last thing he needed.

Her jaw fell slack. “Y-y-you speak English?”

“Obviously.” His English was rusty and not quite as good as his Mandarin, but still good enough for interrogation. “Who sent you?”

“I think we got off on the wrong foot.” She licked her lips, and deep indents on the corners of her mouth dipped into her cheeks. “My name is Kinsley Morales, but my friends call me Switch.”

He stared at her a moment. Had she just introduced herself? Didn’t she realize she was being interrogated? To death, if she didn’t cooperate.

Please, just cooperate.

“My mother named me after my paternal grandmother. An ‘apology’ name, I always said, because she’d named my sister in honor of her mother, which caused quite a stir on my father’s side of the family. But everyone’s ruffled feathers settled after she named me. The only time my presence had settled anyone’s feathers.” She ran out of air and inhaled a deep, trembling breath.

“What’s your name?”

Ah, he might have believed her composure if not for that tremble. She knew her predicament precisely and was attempting to save herself by appealing to his compassion.

The man he’d become to overthrow Josairo couldn’t afford compassion. “Did my brother recruit you with the promise of freedom? What are your orders?”

The woman flinched. A pained whine escaped her clenched teeth.

Svik, was he hurting her? Raveno loosened his hold, just in case. It might come to that, but not now and certainly not by mistake.

Yet, even beaten down, in pain, and defeated, the gleam of calculation sharpened the woman’s gaze.

Strong in mind if not in body, he thought warily, knowing the terrible efforts it took to break the strong of will. His own physical wound had long since healed, but the muscles of his residual limb often pained him as if his left calf still remained, twisted foot and all.

“Must I repeat the question?” he asked. If not Tironan, someone on board had released her.

The furry tuft above her right eye lifted. “How should I know if I know your brother if I don’t even know you?”

Ha! Fine. He spoke his full name and rank for her in traditional Hvrsil, just for the pleasure of matching her obstinacy with his.

“I…I’m not sure I can pronounce that,” she admitted.

“Considering the deficiencies in the form and function of your tongue, I expect not.”

She narrowed her eyes, clearly unsure if she should be insulted. “Do you have a nickname too? Something less, er, taxing on the vocal cords?”

“No.”

“What do your friends call you?” she tried.

“I have no friends.”

“Something I can call you while I beg for mercy, then,” she snapped.

A laugh overtook him at that, as swift, unwanted, and jarring as a seizure. Oh, this woman was a little firework: all sparks and fierce light wedging lethally beneath his scales.

“When you beg for mercy, you may call me by the modern Haveo version of my name,” he relented. “Raveno Hoviir.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Raveno Hoviir.”

He was certain it wasn’t.

About the Author: 
Melody Johnson is the award-winning author of the “out of this world” Love Beyond series and the gritty, paranormal romance Night Blood series published by Kensington Publishing/ Lyrical Press. She graduated magna cum laude from Lycoming College with her B.A. in creative writing and psychology. 
Earning the 2021 Maggie Award of Excellence, Beyond the Next Star (Love Beyond, book 1) is an exciting branch from Melody's paranormal romance roots, keeping the dark grit from her Night Blood Series and taking it to new worlds. Her first published novel, The City Beneath (Night Blood, book 1), was a finalist in the “Cleveland Rocks” and “Fool For Love” contests. 
When she isn’t writing, Melody enjoys swimming, hiking, reading, and exploring her new home in southeast Georgia. 
Stay in touch with Melody on social media or her website: http://authormelodyjohnson.com/ 
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MelodyMJohnson
Blog: https://authormelodyjohnson.wordpress.com
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