New Release – Blooded by Nat Kennedy #giveaway

BLOG TOUR

Book Title: Blooded

Author: Nat Kennedy

Cover Artist: Silvana Sanchez – Selfpub Designs

Release Date: September 25, 2021

Genre: Fantasy/Vampires

Tropes: Hurt/comfort, antagonists to allies/lovers, past student/teacher, vampire blood feeding, vampire blood bond 

Themes: Redemption, Personal Acceptance 

Heat Rating:  4 flames   

Length:  113 500 words/290 pages

It is a standalone book and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US   |   Amazon UK 

How far will two sorcerers go to save humanity? Will they give up their lives? Will they give up their hearts?

Blurb 

A broken mage. A penitent vampire. Can they put aside the horrors of the past to save each other? 

Plagued with erratic. volatile magic, Nicodemus Green focuses his entire life to stop an evil sorcerer who brainwashes or kills anyone in his path to domination.   Ten years into this crusade, Nick stumbles upon his former Academy instructor in the Austrian Alps. The strict and pious Byron Domitius has cloistered himself in an isolated manor. Alone and starving, he hates the twisted, damned creature he has become.

A prophecy calls for Nick and Byron to bond by blood to finally bring an end to the sorcerer’s hidden agenda.  The two are forced to see beyond their shared past, and Nick finds himself desiring more from his old instructor than just his magic. But are these emotions real, or do they come from the heat of their bond?

Excerpt  – Stargazing

They stood side by side, almost close, looking up at the twinkling stars. Byron pointed, and Nick followed his finger to the sky.

“Perseus,” Byron said. “Do you see that, the upper right branch of Perseus? Do you know what I’m talking about?”

“I had astronomy with you two years in a row. Or did you forget?”

“I didn’t forget. I nurtured the assumption that you and your gang of goons had more important things to do than pay attention in my class.”

“Goons? We did pay attention. I know the constellation.” He didn’t remember it from Byron’s class, though. They had a Mentor of the Month who lived at an observatory near the top of Mt. St. Helens in Washington, and they’d spent hours staring at the stars. It had been windy and cold, and the sky had been clear, the stars brilliant.

“Fine. That star, the bright one, is Algol. It means Demon Head. Fitting for the constellation that is supposed to hold the head of Medusa.”

Nick hmmed to show he was listening. Byron’s voice was soothing, deep and quiet in the dark of night. Comfortable. Safe. “Algol is actually a tertiary star, but the third star is so weak, it puts off little shine. It’s used by celestials as a binary system to imbue power into obsidian.”

“A twin star.” Suddenly invested, Nick gazed up with a sense of wonder. “Is that the power that was in my obsidian, sir?”

Byron nodded, then turned to Nick, his dark eyes fathomless, his face young and smooth and illuminated from above. “Yes. There are two stars there, circling one another. Their individual gravitational pull keeps them in a perfect orbit, tethered in their eternal spin. And together, they are brighter for it,” he said softly, reverently. The air felt heavy, and then Byron faced the sky.

Nick watched his old professor out of the corner of his eyes, unmoving, like a statue, gazing upon the night sky with a depth of sorrow and yearning Nick couldn’t understand, never could understand, even after his years of wandering. He wanted to reach out, touch him, perhaps melt his cold flesh, make him come alive with contact, and then he realized he was staring and thinking inappropriate things.

He cleared his throat.

“Well, I should get back in, Byron. Enjoy your evening.”

Byron slowly looked down at him, a small smile on his lips, not a smirk, but a close cousin like he could read Nick’s thoughts. Felt Nick’s desire like a breeze on his arms.

“You as well.”

About the Author 

Nat Kennedy writes fantasy fiction of all kinds.  She strives to create engaging, plotty romantic stories.  In her worlds, Heroes abound.  She lives in the Pacific Northwest where the rain keeps the world green.  Find her online at natkennedy.com or on IG natkennedybooks. 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook  |  Facebook Group

Newsletter Sign-Up  |  Instagram  |  Goodreads

Giveaway

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win one of the following:

a $20 Amazon Giftcard

an ebook copy of Blooded

 an ebook copy of Edge of Desperation 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Cover Reveal – Blooded by Nat Kennedy #giveaway

COVER REVEAL

Book Title: Blooded

Author: Nat Kennedy

Cover Artist: Silvana Sanchez – Selfpub Designs

Release Date: September 25, 2021

Genre: Fantasy

Tropes: Hurt/comfort, antagonists to allies/lovers, past student/teacher, vampire blood feeding, vampire blood bond 

Themes: Redemption, Personal Acceptance 

Heat Rating:  4 flames   

Length:  113 500 words/290 pages

It is a standalone book and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

How far will two sorcerers go to save humanity? Will they give up their lives? Will they give up their hearts?

Blurb 

A broken mage. A penitent vampire. Can they put aside the horrors of the past to save each other? 

Plagued with erratic. volatile magic, Nicodemus Green focuses his entire life to stop an evil sorcerer who brainwashes or kills anyone in his path to domination.   Ten years into this crusade, Nick stumbles upon his former Academy instructor in the Austrian Alps. The strict and pious Byron Domitius has cloistered himself in an isolated manor. Alone and starving, he hates the twisted, damned creature he has become.

A prophecy calls for Nick and Byron to bond by blood to finally bring an end to the sorcerer’s hidden agenda.  The two are forced to see beyond their shared past, and Nick finds himself desiring more from his old instructor than just his magic. But are these emotions real, or do they come from the heat of their bond?

Excerpt 

“Instructor?” Nick said. 

With still no reply, Nick inched closer to the fire and looked down at Domitius, afraid he might have died, though theoretically speaking, he was already undead. Domitius’ eyes were open, glazed but staring into the blazing fire. Nick could see no signs of life. His old instructor’s body was still and no rise or fall of his chest gave any indication of breath or pulse. Nick reached out to touch the man’s shoulder.

“So, you wish to trade blood for training, Mr. Green?”

Nick snatched his hand away as if Domitius had shifted into a deadly viper poised to strike and spread its venom. Even as the pale lips spoke those cold words, Domitius made no other movement. He looked like an animated mannequin, not quite real, just an empty puppet.

“You would prostitute yourself to a vampire, your hated instructor?” Byron continued. 

“Do you even have anything to offer us?” Nick asked with scorn. 

“You might never know.” Domitius almost sounded amused, his attitude irking Nick even more than his non-greeting. Then those blank eyes finally shifted and looked up at Nick, who saw something in them that ran his blood cold.

About the Author 

Nat Kennedy writes fantasy fiction of all kinds.  She strives to create engaging, plotty romantic stories.  In her worlds, Heroes abound.  She lives in the Pacific Northwest where the rain keeps the world green.  Find her online at natkennedy.com or on IG natkennedybooks. 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook  |  Facebook Group

Newsletter Sign-Up  |  Instagram  |  Goodreads

Giveaway

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win one of the following:

a $20 Amazon Giftcard

an ebook copy of Blooded

 an ebook copy of Edge of Desperation 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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New Release – To Poison a Prince by Aldrea Alien #kindleunlimited #giveaway

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Book Title: To Poison a Prince

Author: Aldrea Alien

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: Leonardo Borazio

Release Date: July 31, 2021

Genre: M/M Fantasy Romance

Trope/s: Hurt/Comfort, Man in Peril, Cultural Differences, Dysfunctional Family, Mystery Murderer, Opposites Attract

Themes: Royalty, Wedding, Revenge 

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 269 231 words

It is book 2 in the A Tale of Two Princes series  

Goodreads Link

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK 

Someone is out to murder his husband and he might just be the reason they succeed.

Blurb 

Imperial Crown Prince Darshan knew his journey home wasn’t going to be the modest one he hoped for, especially not after eloping with Hamish, a former prince—and now exile—of Tirglas.

When he thwarts a clumsy attempt on his husband’s life during a soirée hosted by his long-standing rival and half-sister, he figures the worst is behind them.

Yet, the threat of death continues to shadow them across the empire. Someone is intent on making the rumours of his husband’s demise a reality, someone who can erase the memory of their very presence from people’s minds.

Darshan must discover who is behind the attempts before they succeed. But who can he trust when the culprit is capable of slipping by the most vigilant of guards?

Excerpt 

“Your highness,” Katarina said in a clear address to himself. “I hear you’ve travelled through imperial lands for some months. What is your current outlook on it?” Although she spoke Udynean, the musical hint of her own language whispered through. A much softer melody than the last hedgewitch Hamish had met.

He swallowed the wine and considered the past eight weeks of travel from the distant port of Haalabof to here, of the seemingly endless roads winding along the lands and the villages small enough to barely warrant a mention on a map. “It has certainly been an experience.” He’d been propositioned at least seven times along the way. Maybe even more that had been too subtle for him to notice.

The hedgewitch’s eyes almost sparkled. “You simply must give me details, your highness. It’s so rare to have an outside opinion on Udynea.”

Hamish opened his mouth, his agreement balancing on his tongue, only to remain silent as Darshan laid a bejewelled hand atop his.

“I’m sure my husband is most eager to oblige the request, Madam Hedgewitch, but perhaps another time would be more suited?”

Her lashes fluttering, Katarina lowered her head. “Of course, vris Mhanek.” She picked at the rest of her meal, perhaps looking for a reason to remain silent as she vibrated with an energy that reminded Hamish of his nephews when they sorely wanted to natter people’s ears off.

A pang of longing turned his stomach. A yearning to embrace his sisters, to hear his nephews scheming and his niece’s laughter. He would even take his brother’s good-natured ribbing just for a chance to hear his voice.

Hamish swallowed, blinking furiously to stem the tears threatening to spill. He hadn’t expected to feel homesick, but he’d never been beyond Tirglas before, hadn’t even been more than a week’s travel from Mullhind Castle for years. Now it was months away and there was more land to cover before they reached their destination.

A whole continent between him and his family; people he would never get to see again thanks to his mother’s poisonous ire.

“Do eat up, brother dear,” Onella purred, jolting Hamish from his thoughts. His sister-in-law gestured to the plate before Darshan, the rings adorning her fingers glittering in the candlelight. She had changed gowns, or at least the filmy topmost layer, and her arm showed no sign of Darshan’s attack. “All that dancing must’ve worked up quite the appetite. I can’t imagine the poxy inns you’ve stopped at during your travels had meals sufficient for a man of your power. You must be ravenous.”

Darshan smiled. Hamish wasn’t sure how his husband managed to seemingly detach the expression from his face, but the sight prickled his skin. “I think I’ll pass, dear half-sister.”

“But isn’t quail your favourite?” Onella pressed. “Did all those stodgy meals up north affect your palate?” She leant closer to one of the men flanking her and continued on in a loud whisper. “I hear they do ghastly things like stuff sheep stomachs and eat them.”

“They do indeed,” Katarina piped up as grumbles of distaste trembled along the table. “And the stomachs of cows and pigs.”

“There’s little from an animal we dinnae eat or use,” Hamish added, ferocious pride for his homeland’s self-sufficiency puffing his chest. “And what’s left goes to feed our dogs and pigs. We dinnae let a thing go to waste.”

“Clearly, trade relations with a superior people isn’t listed as one of those things.” Onella sipped at her wine, her gaze boring into him. “But I suppose you’re not privy to such matters, being dead and all.”

A woman part way down the table flung her head back and guffawed.

“He seems very lively for a dead man,” pointed out the woman sitting next to her as her neighbour continued to wheeze.

“Clearly not in the literal sense,” Onella said, her gaze remaining firmly on Hamish. “But it would seem that the news of how the current queen of Tirglas disowned her younger son hasn’t reached all present company.”

Darshan straightened in his chair. “Has it not?” He took up his glass and tapped his forefinger against it, waiting whilst a servant topped up the wine. “What is the rumour mill coming to if it cannot keep up with such trivial concerns?”

About the Author 

Aldrea Alien is an award-winning, bisexual author of fantasy romance with varying heat levels. Born and raised in New Zealand, she lives on a small farm with her family, including a menagerie of animals, who are all convinced they’re just as human as the next person. Especially the cats. Since discovering a love of writing at the age of twelve, she hasn’t found an ounce of peace from the characters plaguing her mind with all of them clamouring for her to tell their story first.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook  |  Facebook Group  |  Twitter

Newsletter Sign-Up  |  Instagram  |  BookBub

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one of three ebook copies of To Target the Heart

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Cover Reveal – Lockmage Legacy (D’Vaire, Book 24) by Jessamyn Kingley

COVER REVEAL

Book Title: Lockmage Legacy (D’Vaire, Book 24)

Author: Jessamyn Kingley

Publisher: Independently Published

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson, Mayhem Cover Creations

Release Date: July 29, 2021

Genre: M/M Urban Fantasy Romance

Trope:  Fated Mates

Themes: Fate, love

Heat Rating:  3 flames   

Length: 88 690 words

Check out the series on Goodreads

US Author Page on Amazon  |   UK Author Page on Amazon 

Defining a legacy is never easy.

Blurb

Beta Donnell Ursus Arctos devotes his life to protecting his leader and defending every bear in his clan. Some call him overprotective, but Donnell prioritizes safety. When he’s not working, Donnell has simple hobbies that others consider boring. Although Donnell is surrounded by family, wealth, and prestige, the bear shifter pines for Fate to pair him with the other half of his soul.

For Joshua Brenton, little is going right. On the same day, Josh loses his job and his run-down apartment. But there is a bright light on the horizon—the annual retreat for mages. As an aqua mage, Josh has been disrespected since birth, but Fate has recently selected new leaders. After sweeping changes are made, Josh is randomly selected to prove his worth in the newly instituted mage testing.

Josh is stunned when he meets the mage rulers and is invited to their home. Upon ringing the doorbell to the mansion, Josh meets Donnell, and they discover that they are mates. Although the pair are instantly drawn to each other, Josh learns he is more than a mage and must unravel a past he’d prefer to forget. It will be up to Josh and Donnell to chart a future while dealing with the surprises they encounter along the way.

Excerpt 

Instead of knocking, Josh strode backward to take in the giant house done in brick and wood. It was lovely—too nice for someone like Josh—which had him wondering for the millionth time what the hell he’d done to himself by agreeing to venture there.

Sucking in a deep breath, Josh stalked over and rang the bell. There was no need to continue repeating the same nonsense. Josh had made a promise. He might not have shit, but that didn’t mean he lacked honor. Within seconds, the door whipped open, and Josh gaped. The blood rushed to his groin and his dick hardened as the smell of the beach hit Josh’s nose. A ridiculously handsome man with dark hair and light brown eyes stared at him with as much shock as Josh felt. 

All his eagerness to leave deserted him, and although the bear gawking at him was far above his level, Josh was keeping him. The shifter was Josh’s gift from Fate, and even if he didn’t deserve him, they were meant to be. Or perhaps the goddess wanted to make up for some of the shit he’d endured. While Josh didn’t have a clue how to handle a relationship, he was excited to learn. Collecting his scattered thoughts, Josh grinned up at him. 

“Hey there, Handsome, I’m Josh.”

“Joshua Brenton?”

“Yep, that’s me. Your mate.”

Some of the astonishment left his face, and Josh cataloged the strong jaw, straight nose, and masculine beauty. Josh decided it was a countenance he’d never tire of appreciating. 

“Believe it or not, I figured out the mate thing,” the man replied.

“Yeah, your dick is probably as hard as mine. What do I smell like?”

The bear cocked his head. “Like the seashells on your temple.”

“You smell like the beach too. Cool,” Josh said, his hand coming up to trace the tiny tattoos that went up his temple and over part of his forehead. “So, what’s your name?”

“Donnell.”

“Can I call you Donnie?”

“Absolutely not. Come inside.”

“Come inside where?” Josh asked cheekily. “I mean, we just met, so maybe it’s a bit early to discuss preferences or whatever, but I’m down if you are.”

“Get in the house,” Donnell demanded with a chuckle.

“I’m happy to follow you anywhere.”

“You probably just want to check out my ass.”

Duh,” Josh said.

With a shrug, Donnell turned and walked away. Josh wasn’t the least bit offended, because the man’s backside was perfect. At nearly a foot taller than Josh, the shifter had a muscular build that was showcased beautifully in his tailored shirt and trousers. 

“Enjoying the view?” Donnell asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Are you ready to get in here, or are you going to stand on the porch gawking all night?”

“Yeah, I guess I could come in,” Josh muttered. The moment Josh stepped in the house, his gaze was ripped from Donnell long enough to appreciate the glorious fountain that represented the four elements that comprised the Circle of Mages. “That’s fanfuckulous.”

About the Author 

Jessamyn Kingley lives in Nevada where she begs the men in her head to tell her their amazing stories which she dutifully writes it all down in what has become a small mountain of notebooks. She falls in love with each couple and swears whatever book she wrote last is her absolute favorite.

Jessamyn is married and working toward remembering to start the dishwasher without being distracted by the scent of the magical detergent. For personal enjoyment, she aids in cat rescue while slashing and gashing her way through mobs in various MMORPGs. Caffeine is her very best friend and is only cast aside briefly for the sin better known as BBQ potato chips.

Visit her website 

Join her Facebook group, Jessamyn’s Ruffian’s

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Book Blast – Young King Arthur and the Round Table Knights

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Young King Arthur and the Round Table Knights

Author: Siryn Sueng

Publisher: Deep Hearts YA

Release Date: September 18, 2020

Genre/s: Fantasy, M/M YA Romance

Trope/s: First Love, Arthurian Legend

Themes: Coming of Age, Knights 

Heat Rating:  2 flames      

Length:  68 322 words/ 270 pages

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US  |   Amazon UK 

Smashwords  |  Apple Books  |  B&N  |  Kobo

Arthur grew up a peasant, but when he was fourteen, Excalibur chose him, and now as King Arthur, he must learn to play the game of royalty quickly … or suffer the consequences.

Blurb

There was no reason for Arthur to think he would ever become king.

A peasant and son of a baker, Arthur grew up in the castle town of Camelot. When he attended the choosing ceremony, it was merely to see who would draw the Holy Sword, Excalibur – to see who would inherit the throne of the recently departed King Uther. He never expected the sword would choose him…

But it did.

Now, at the young age of fourteen, he has become King Arthur, and for all the power he has gained, he has made just as many enemies. Surrounded by the Knights of the Round Table, and led by the mysterious mage, Merlin, Arthur is grateful for his allies, though he would just as soon return to his old life. Surely, someone more worthy should be chosen as king.

Arthur is in the middle of chaos, a world where everyone wants more than they let on, where many hate the idea of a young boy with no noble background being crowned king; where cold stares and whispered words are just as sharp as an assassin’s blade.

As Arthur fends for his life, he must draw on the strength of his knights, especially fifteen-year-old Mordred, who becomes closer to him than the mere bounds of duty. He must become king, not just in name, but in his heart.

And he must do it quickly, because his enemies want more than just his crown…

Excerpt

Two days had passed since I’d pulled the sword free—since becoming King. On the first full day within the castle, Merlin had found me wandering the halls and dragged me back to my room to be fitted for an outrageous amount of clothing. We discussed Illian.

Merlin assured me that he was being treated well within the dungeons, despite his cold attitude that he gave to everyone. Nothing would be done to him without my consultation. That fact only added more weight.

He also brought up his conversation with my mother and the letter I should expect. The day after, I received it. She’d expressed her worries, but also her love and support. She praised me, and though I knew it was meant as encouragement, it only made me more wary and frightened. My station as King was not something to take so lightly—even if she had all the confidence in the world. I tried to reply, but nothing I wrote seemed fitting. Rather, it all seemed more like complaints and childish pleading. It wasn’t something I wanted to send to her, not after having her praise me.

Within the mirror, the striking blue doublet that covered me looked even more out of place as I thought about my mother’s letter. The kingly raiment I now wore wasn’t the only one. I had a rich dark purple one, a red one, a light blue, and a solid black. And to think, those were just for me to wear when I wasn’t in the throne room! All the different clothes were going to make my head explode.

“Yes, he did a wonderful job,” Elias said. “Perfect fit. Of course, he is the best tailor in the lands. Only the best for our King.” He stepped back from me and bowed.

“I don’t need the best,” I said softly, but Elias caught it.

“I suppose it’s good to know that you haven’t drowned in the riches, but at the same time you do need to look the part at least.”

I turned to look out the window. The sea burst against the cliff side, throwing water in a violent display of white foam. I watched the waves for a moment longer, knowing that I needed to get going. I was stalling because I was nervous about meeting the knights. What were they going to think of me? I was young, and a peasant. No royal blood flowed through my veins.

I chewed on my lower lip. Elias touched my arm. I looked over at him. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. I nodded and followed him out of the room and into the large corridor.

We left the castle and crossed from the tree-lined grounds into the gardens. The smells of the flowers permeated my senses. I took a deep breath. The scents calmed some of my nerves.

Ahead of us on the other side of the castle grounds stood the Knights’ Tower, where they all resided. The tower was imposing, dark in color, and vines crawled up the sides of the rocks. Windows lined the entire building, spiraling up to the top. Elias led me to the tower’s set of wooden doors and bowed to me.

“This is as far as I can go, Your Majesty.”

My heart clenched and ice shot through my chest. I was going to be alone with the knights. Terror flooded me and I began to tremble. Elias touched my arm again. I focused on him. He smiled and the gentle look helped me relax.

“You will be just fine, my lord. They might be rough around the edges, but they’re loyal and actually very nice.”

“Okay. I’ll be just fine. Thank you, Elias. I’ll see you later.”

He bowed and left me standing in front of the doors. I contemplated leaving and hiding in the library. I turned and took a step forward—right into a warm body. With a startled gasp, I stumbled back and bowed forward as I squeaked, “Forgive me! I didn’t see you there! I’m sorry I ran into you!”

The one who I had run into snickered and I recognized that tone well. I looked up to see Merlin smirking at me. My heart fell like it had become a lump of lead. I stared at him as he laughed at me. I could feel a hot blush creeping across my face.

“My, my. You’re a King now, my lord. You don’t bow to anyone. So, what is it that has you cowering before the Knights’ Tower? Are you intimidated by them?” Merlin seemed a little more welcoming, but I still didn’t like the look on his face. It seemed like he was scrutinizing me beneath his outward demeanor.

I turned back to the double doors and swallowed dryly. “They won’t approve of me.”

“Not everyone will. But that’s what it means to be king. No one is loved on their first day on the throne. Everyone questions the new crown; that is simply how it is. It takes time to earn trust and loyalty. You will earn it. But…if you do nothing, then you will have nothing.”

His words shook me. The mage was right. I understood then why he was the advisor to the King of Camelot. He knew what he was talking about. Despite being condescending at times, he was truly helpful.

“I can’t avoid everything, and why should I? Thank you, Merlin.”

He bowed to me. “Of course, Your Majesty. It’s what I’m here for. So, shall we?”

“Yes.”

I turned around and pulled the door open.

About the Author 

Siryn Sueng is a writer of fantasy, paranormal, and even Sci-Fi genres. She’s married to a wonderful husband with a minion of two years. They have a full house with three adorable fur babies, Anubis -the mighty cat hunter- Kida -the momma bear- and Mishka -the loveable husky-.

Siryn is a lover of games on a wide range of platforms. She plays on the PC, console, and hand-held devices including the phone. Japan is where she would love to visit sometime and is a huge inspiration to many of her projects. She’s a huge fan of Japan, including manga and anime. Siryn has even begun to dabble in comic/manga script writing. Future works in this will be posted on WebToon.

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New Release – Wishes for Rohi by K.L. Hiers #KindleUnlimited #giveaway

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Wishes for Rohi

Author: K.L. Hiers

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Reese Dante

Release Date: March 26, 2021

Genre: Fantasy Romance 

Trope/s: Arranged marriage, fish out of water, falling in love with the wrong brother, magical mpreg

Themes: Love Overcomes All Things

Heat Rating:  4 flames 

Length: 53 000 words

It is a standalone story.

Add on Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |   Amazon UK 

Blurb

Ashley Mostrich gets one heck of a birthday surprise when the guy he brought home for the night turns out to be the twin brother of the prince he didn’t know he was supposed to marry. Unbeknownst to Ashley, his grandpa made a deal with a jinn and promised him off to the royal family before he was even born.

Zamir is the heir to the mystical kingdom of Palmyra and promises he will love Ashley in time, while his younger brother, Zaire, is trying to get into Ashley ‘s bed again. Ashley wants to be a faithful fiancé to Zamir, but he cannot deny the powerful chemistry he feels with Zaire. Additional jealousy flares when Ashley discovers that Zamir’s heart already belongs to another, but the pressure for the wedding is on because the future of the Palmyran people hinges on a royal union magically producing an heir.

Once Ashley realizes that Zaire’s feelings for him might be more than physical, he finds himself falling in love with the wrong brother and risking the fate of the entire kingdom. It’ll take a miracle—or one very powerful wish—for everyone to have a happy ending.

Excerpt

“Why does everyone keep calling me ‘savior’?”

“You don’t know? About the prophecy?” Zaire questioned slowly.

“No?”

Zaire made a sour face, mumbling a few soft curses before clearing his throat. “My brother is truly an idiot. Come with me,” he said, taking Ashley’s arm and guiding him back toward where the little girl was.

People were bringing her little trinkets and baubles, receiving a slice of the cake from her in exchange. She had a crown of flowers in her hair, well dressed, and seemed to be of some importance despite her youth.

Ashley watched for a few moments. “Who is that?”

“That is Lady Alana,” Zaire replied, waiting for the name to settle in Ashley’s brain.

“Lady Alana. Wait, she’s the birthday girl?”

“Yes,” Zaire said, something sad in his voice. “Our people are dying, Ashley. Slowly but surely, jinn are fading away. Every generation has gotten smaller and smaller, and there hasn’t been a new jinn child born in over thirty years.”

“Thirty years… Alana was the last one?”

“Yes. Even with all our proper breeding and perfect little arranged marriages, every mating ritual since her birth has failed. But there’s a prophecy, you see, that a royal wedding will bless the entire kingdom with an entire new generation of children.”

“Wait a damn second, that little girl is freakin’ thirty?”

“Yes,” Zaire huffed impatiently. “We don’t age as humans do. Now, do you understand why you are so important?”

“Everyone actually believes that me getting knocked up by your brother or me knocking him up is the future of your entire race?” 

“Mmm, pretty much. It’ll probably be you getting knocked up, to be honest. But you know, no pressure!”

“Fuck,” Ashley mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face and chugging his drink.

“My brother knows what’s at stake,” Zaire said gently, a tone meant to be comforting. “He will make amends for his behavior, I know it.”

“Do you believe the prophecy?” 

Zaire’s brows furrowed, and he glanced down at his mug as he thought over the question. He took a small sip before he said, “I believe that other people believe it’s true. I’ve never been much for fate or destiny. I much prefer the idea that I’m in control of my own life.”

“You realize this makes what you did even more screwed up?”

“Hmm?”

“If the prophecy is real, you risked the future of your race just to piss off your brother.”

“First of all,” Zaire drawled, wagging his finger, “I never planned for ‘what we did’ to go that far. I truly had no intentions of having sex with you. I was expecting to find a blushing virgin, not an insatiable bedroom hellcat—”

“A bedroom what now?”

“And second of all,” Zaire went on with a smirk, “it was quite impossible to think about the good of my people once I had tasted your gorgeous flesh.”

“Zaire!” Ashley protested, whipping around to see if anyone was listening. He stared back at Zaire, and he suddenly realized that although he could hear his voice, his lips were not moving.

“When you were screaming my name, all I thought about was wanting to hear that sweet sound as many times as I possibly could.”

Ashley gulped, blood creeping up into his cheeks as he stammered, “That’s… that’s, uhm, that was very s-selfish of you.”

“I know,” Zaire said out loud with a smug little smile. “I’m a very selfish person. At times, quite envious as well.”

“Envious?”

“Seeing my brother get all the things I want for myself has become a bit tiresome,” Zaire replied, his lips not moving again, and yet his voice was fully in Ashley’s ear as he stepped into his space. “Not very fair at all.”

“How, how are you doing that?” Ashley hissed, instinctively backing away.

“Doing what?” 

“The talking without talking.”

“Magic,” replied Zaire’s voice in his ear.

“You’ve gotta stop saying those kinds of things,” Ashley barked, cringing when he noticed his raised voice earned them several curious stares.

“Hmm, I didn’t actually say a thing,” Zaire pointed out smugly.

“Fine! Stop not saying those things!” 

About the Author 

K.L. “Kat” Hiers is an embalmer, restorative artist, and queer writer. Licensed in both funeral directing and funeral service, she’s been working in the death industry for nearly a decade. Her first love was always telling stories, and she has been writing for over twenty years, penning her very first book at just eight years old. Publishers generally do not accept manuscripts in Hello Kitty notebooks, however, but she never gave up.

Following the success of her first novel, Cold Hard Cash, she now enjoys writing professionally, focusing on spinning tales of sultry passion, exotic worlds, and emotional journeys. She loves attending horror movie conventions and indulging in cosplay of her favorite characters. She lives in Zebulon, NC, with her husband and their children, some of whom have paws and a few that only pretend to because they think it’s cute.

Author Links

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Cover Reveal – Wishes for Rohi by K.L. Hiers #giveaway

COVER REVEAL

Book Title: Wishes for Rohi

Author: K.L. Hiers

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Reese Dante

Release Date: March 26, 2021

Genre: Fantasy Romance 

Trope/s: Arranged marriage, fish out of water, falling in love with the wrong brother, magical mpreg

Themes: Love Overcomes All Things

Heat Rating:  4 flames 

Length: 53 000 words

It is a standalone story.

Pre-Order Available 

Amazon US  |   Amazon UK 

Blurb

Ashley Mostrich gets one heck of a birthday surprise when the guy he brought home for the night turns out to be the twin brother of the prince he didn’t know he was supposed to marry. Unbeknownst to Ashley, his grandpa made a deal with a jinn and promised him off to the royal family before he was even born.

Zamir is the heir to the mystical kingdom of Palmyra and promises he will love Ashley in time, while his younger brother, Zaire, is trying to get into Ashley ‘s bed again. Ashley wants to be a faithful fiancé to Zamir, but he cannot deny the powerful chemistry he feels with Zaire. Additional jealousy flares when Ashley discovers that Zamir’s heart already belongs to another, but the pressure for the wedding is on because the future of the Palmyran people hinges on a royal union magically producing an heir.

Once Ashley realizes that Zaire’s feelings for him might be more than physical, he finds himself falling in love with the wrong brother and risking the fate of the entire kingdom. It’ll take a miracle—or one very powerful wish—for everyone to have a happy ending.

About the Author 

K.L. “Kat” Hiers is an embalmer, restorative artist, and queer writer. Licensed in both funeral directing and funeral service, she’s been working in the death industry for nearly a decade. Her first love was always telling stories, and she has been writing for over twenty years, penning her very first book at just eight years old. Publishers generally do not accept manuscripts in Hello Kitty notebooks, however, but she never gave up.

Following the success of her first novel, Cold Hard Cash, she now enjoys writing professionally, focusing on spinning tales of sultry passion, exotic worlds, and emotional journeys. She loves attending horror movie conventions and indulging in cosplay of her favorite characters. She lives in Zebulon, NC, with her husband and their children, some of whom have paws and a few that only pretend to because they think it’s cute.

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Series Review Tour – Death’s Embrace by H.L. Moore #giveaway

SERIES REVIEW TOUR

Death’s Embrace Series by H.L. Moore

Series Blurb

Doran had a problem, and it wasn’t that he’d been stabbed.

Doran Ó Seanáin, leader of the Black Lung Gang and former Foreman of the mines, is at war with Iole’s City’s tyrannical ruler for his brutal treatment of the miners. Doran is losing, badly, and he fears his relationship with his estranged daughter Grace will never heal following the death of his wife two years prior.

Nathaniel Morgenstern, an apotheker with a mysterious past to whom Doran owes his life, seems to offer salvation. But Nathaniel has secrets of his own that may just tear them apart before they have a chance to give in to each other. 

The stories are best read in order.

BOOK DETAILS

BOOK 1

Book Title: Heart of Dust

Author: H. L. Moore

Publisher: Self- Published

Cover Artist: Designed by Damonza

Length: 59 000 words / 250 pages

Release Date: February 19, 2018

Genre: Fantasy M/M Romance

Trope: Slow Burn

Themes: Revolution, Addiction

Heat Rating: 2 flames

It is book 1 in the series.

Goodreads

Buy Links 

Special offer – Heart of Dust reduced to 99c for a limited time

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Kobo  |  Abbey’s

Doran had a problem, and it wasn’t that he’d been stabbed.

Blurb 

Iole City is in turmoil. Doran Ó Seanáin, leader of the Black Lung Gang, is determined to bring the Lord Archon – Iole’s tyrannical ruler – down for his brutal treatment of the miners. But Doran has more to deal with than getting stabbed, a stalemate and city-wide lockdown that’s seeing his gang of ex-miners being slowly starved out of their base – his daughter Grace has turned against him, and the weight of his wife’s death two years prior haunts them both.

Things start to look up when he’s inexplicably drawn to Nathaniel Morgenstern, the apotheker with a mysterious past he owes his life to, but Doran is in way over his head. The fate of the mines hangs in the balance; the clock is ticking and the Archon is closing in. Doran’s plan to break the cycle may very well be his last.

Excerpt

Heart of Dust

Everything hurt.

This wasn’t out of the ordinary; Doran was accustomed to waking up any given morning with his head aching, his body bruised, his feet swollen, his bones fractured and muscles torn. But this time he couldn’t move, not even to open his eyes. He dimly wondered if he was hungover.

He felt someone prodding at his body. He grunted and forced his eyes open, regretting it immediately at the resulting implosion of pain in his head.

The culprit was a young man – a child, really – who yelped and jumped backwards with wide eyes, clutching a bandage.

“Sir?” the boy called out, over his shoulder. Doran flinched, the sound reverberating through his skull, and clenched his eyes shut again. “Sir, he’s waking up.”

“Leave us.”

The boy’s voice responded. “But –”

“Gerald.”

A heavy sigh. “Yes, sir.”

He could hear murmuring somewhere in the background but he couldn’t focus on the words. Instead he let the subtle but heady scent of pinewood and elderflower calm his aching mind. 

There were light footsteps – the boy, Gerald – shuffling indignantly up a staircase somewhere to the right, then there was nothing but the sound of his own breathing.

His mind was so sluggish that an eon and a half had passed by the time he felt a cool glass press gently against his lower lip. A strong hand moved under the back of his head to guide him up. He managed a few sips of sweet, crystalline water. It tasted like it was sent from Lady Sionann herself to soothe his parched and aching mouth.

Doran swallowed, then gulped. Water spilled from his hungry lips and the glass was pulled away. He protested, or tried to, but the hand supporting his head guided him back down. 

He realised he was lying on a table. It wasn’t hard enough to be stone, or cold enough to be metal. He could feel the grains of smooth wood beneath the tips of his fingers and against his skin, and his head rested on something soft. A jacket, perhaps, or even a pillow. 

Consciousness filtered back to him, not quickly enough for his liking. Finally he managed to pry his eyes open.

The man leaning over him couldn’t have been more than a few years older than Doran, in his early forties perhaps, but if Doran thought he carried his own age badly, this man outrivalled him. 

The stranger’s brown hair was peppered grey, completely silver at the temples; his face was hard, weathered and lined from years of trauma or poor life choices. A scar extended from the corner of his right eye to the middle of his cheek, destroying any chance of symmetry. Doran couldn’t call him good-looking, not by a long shot, but there was something incredibly striking about his features, in an offensive sort of way.

Doran swallowed thickly. “How long…” he tried to say, the words coming out in a harsh whisper.

“All night.”

The man had a low, coarse voice, like a miner after years of inhaling cigarette smoke and coal dust, but his words were soft.

“Shit.” Doran pushed himself to a sitting position. “What time is it?”

“Early, still,” the man replied, pressing his hand to Doran’s shoulder. His hand was bound in a black band of mourning, not unlike the one Doran wore around his upper arm. “Move slowly. You don’t want to tear those stitches.”

“Stitches –?” 

Doran glanced down at himself, and his memory of the previous day flooded back in an instant. 

His hand found his side, and instead of a gaping wound his fingers met a firm bandage. He also couldn’t help but notice a distinct lack of blood and – apart from his underwear – clothing.

“…You helped me,” Doran said.

“You were bleeding all over my doorstep.”

“Ah. Apologies.”

The man grunted, though whether this was in dismay or to brush off the apology, Doran couldn’t tell. “Stab wounds do that. You’re lucky it wasn’t deeper.”

Doran thought of Rhian, bleeding to death in his arms while their daughter wept. “Yeah,” he echoed. “Lucky.”

The man moved away, then returned with a bowl of steaming broth and two slices of bread. Doran accepted the meal gratefully. The broth was hot but not enough to burn his tongue. He found himself draining the bowl with desperate gulps, then attacking the bread like a starving wolf. It was better than anything he’d eaten in moons. The bread was warm and fresh, and he used it to soak up the last of the salt and rosemary broth from the bowl. 

The man offered Doran a bundle of clothes when he was done.

“These should fit you,” he said, passing them over. “I had to burn yours.”

Doran’s heart seized, a spike of pure panic gripping his body. His hand shot to his chest to clutch for the chain around his neck, calming only when his fingers curled around the locket. He exhaled.

The man’s head tilted at the sudden movement, a small frown creasing his brow as the flash of bronze caught his eye, but the locket vanished underneath the shirt Doran hastily pulled over his body.

“Thanks.” Doran swung his legs over the edge of the table, wincing when he moved too quickly. 

“I’d tell you not to engage in strenuous activity for at least a week, but I doubt you’ll listen and the Archon won’t care,” the man said. “Try not to reopen the wound when you’re working the mines.”

That told Doran two things – there had been no revolution, and the mines were still open.

He swallowed his disappointment. “What makes you think I’m a miner?”

“Hands.”

Doran glanced down at his hands, the cuticles of his nails and the skin of his palms permanently stained black. He clenched his calloused fists together and tried to keep his tone non-committal. “I hear it’s a hard life.”

“One I don’t envy.”

BOOK 2

Book Title: Soul of Ash

Author: H. L. Moore

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Designed by Damonza

Length:  85 000 words/ 336 pages

Release Date: September 2020

Genre/s: Fantasy M/M Romance

Trope/s: Slow Burn

Themes: Addiction, Dark Pasts, Atonement, Forgiveness

Heat Rating: 2 flames

Goodreads

Buy Links – reduced to USD$4.99 for a limited time

Amazon US  |   Amazon UK

Kobo  |  Abbey’s

You can run, but you will never be free.

Blurb 

Half a year after the events of Heart of Dust, Doran Ó Seanáin now finds himself trapped between two worlds while belonging to neither. Held in contempt by the upper class for the turmoil he caused during Archon Bryson’s reign and resented by the miners for selling out, Leonora Darkwater’s bid to purchase the mines from the crown may be his salvation. But the offer is far more complicated than it appears, and the only person Doran trusts is the same man who threw his life into chaos.

Haunted by his past, held hostage by his debt to the Archon, and a slave to the poison that keeps him alive, atonement feels perpetually out of reach for Nathaniel Morgenstern. Too much damage has been done and too much has gone unsaid for time alone to heal the wounds between him and Doran.

Unfortunately, time is the one thing they don’t have as their lives collide once more. There are vipers in Arajon; the mines aren’t finished with Doran, and the sand in Nathaniel’s hourglass is running out.

Excerpt

Soul of Ash

He was led down a mining shaft illuminated by coal-lit lamps, until they began pushing through a crowd of murmuring men and women held back by other miners. As Lien and Nathaniel were permitted to pass, he heard a hoarse, slightly damaged voice murmuring reassurances beside a derailed dumper tractor raised off the ground by a few metal supporting bars. 

“Just hold on,” he heard Doran saying, from where he knelt beside the tractor. “He’ll be here any moment –” 

“Doran,” Lien said. 

Doran turned. 

The past few months had seen Nathaniel frequent the mines to deliver his wares or receive miners in his shop where he would be asked to render assistance. Trivial things, usually – scrapes and cuts, the occasional broken bone or beginnings of black lung. But since that day in winter, Doran himself had not returned to the shop, nor had Nathaniel seen Doran in the mines, no doubt by design. 

“Good, you’re here,” Doran said when he saw Nathaniel. It was a warmer welcome than Nathaniel had expected or hoped for. “Can you help her?” 

On the sooty ground, a woman, with half of her right leg pinned under the full weight of the truck, groaned. 

If a woman’s leg been crushed under a truck in the glistening streets of the Bronze, the citizens would probably have thrown up or fainted or run away screaming. At the back of the cavern, the doctor was surrounded by men and women of the mines. They didn’t flinch at the horror scene that was her crushed leg; they’d seen worse. By the looks on their faces, most didn’t expect a happy outcome. 

“I’d say good morning,” Nathaniel said as he too knelt beside the doctor, “but you don’t seem to be having one.” 

The doctor had dark skin, betraying her as a member of the upper classes like the Harringtons, whose ancestors had emigrated not from the Valley but from the equatorial nations of Pontecorvo and Kedrossos, south of Vaison. She wore a circlet bracelet depicting the Lady Sionann, like many of the descendants of secular immigrants who’d made their fortunes did, embracing the culture of Arajon and generating both prosperity and poverty, while earning the disdain of the Valley population who clung to the old ways out of tradition or spite.  

The doctor assessed Nathaniel as he set his bag down and pulled out the sterile cloths and alcohol.  

“I don’t recognise this man,” she said to Doran, one hand braced against the tractor looming over her head, the other gripping the thigh of her right leg. Sweat beaded on her clammy forehead. “I know every person who has – nngh – passed through medicine at the Conservatorium. Who is this?” 

“This is Nathaniel Morgenstern,” Doran replied. “He’s an apotheker in Methyr – the one who produces our remedies. He’s the closest thing to a healer we could find, given the urgency.” 

“Morgenst— an apotheker?” the doctor spat. She arched her neck to glower at Doran through her tears of pain. “You’ve b-brought me some Helvetian herbalist! Are you mad? Those backwards fools didn’t even learn how to wipe their asses until a century ago!” 

She was oddly coherent for a woman whose leg was currently crushed under a tractor. 

“My mother had surgical training in Haderach,” Nathaniel said. “Her people discovered hygiene thousands of years ago. You’ll live.” 

If anything, the doctor’s expression turned fouler. “A mev,” she muttered.  

Doran’s hand clamped down hard on his shoulder. 

“Mr Morgenstern is here to save your life,” he said, tersely. “Adrian, bring Doctor Lancaster some water.” 

The one named Adrian scurried away. 

Nathaniel felt Doran’s eyes burning into his shoulders as he examined what he could of the crushed leg under the twisted metal of the tractor. He cut the pant fabric from around Lancaster’s knee, and prodded his finger into the exposed flesh of the leg just below the kneecap, avoiding the bone jutting out like shards. There was no return of blood to her dark skin, and the doctor didn’t jerk with pain. 

No blood flow. No feeling. The leg below the knee was as good as dead. 

“Well?” Doran asked quietly. 

Nathaniel shook his head. Doran uttered a soft swear. 

“It would be better if the truck could be lifted so I can remove the limb safely,” Nathaniel said. “This area isn’t sterile.” 

“We tried,” Doran said. “It’s too dangerous. The whole thing could collapse on her and crush her in an instant. She needs to be freed first before we can safely dismantle it.” 

“All right.” 

“How long will the procedure take?” Doran asked. 

Nathaniel tilted his head at Lancaster. “Forty-odd years ago, the barber-surgeons in the Helvetic would hold down a patient and hack off their limb in thirty seconds. This was before numbing agents had been introduced, of course – time was of the essence for the patients, to minimise the pain so they wouldn’t go into shock. The wound would then be cauterised with either hot iron or boiling oil.” 

“You barbarian,” Lancaster choked, “don’t you dare.” 

Barbarian. That was a new one. 

Surgery wasn’t his forte. He hadn’t lied – he could amputate limbs. In his time, he’d successfully amputated both limbs and heads, though the appendages usually belonged to different people and certainly hadn’t been for the purpose of saving their lives. If one was strictly speaking about life-saving amputation, his mother had taught him the technique and guided his hand through the procedure.  

On cadavers. 

When he was twelve. 

“I can do it that quickly,” Nathaniel said, “but you’ll either bleed to death or die of shock. Caution over speed is preferable. Do you want to be unconscious, or numbed?” 

“Numbed,” Lancaster said. “You have done this before, haven’t you?” 

“Six times.” 

“How many of your patients died?” 

Nathaniel pulled out Professor Kaufman’s tome on Human Anatomy and Physiology from his bag and opened it to the chapter on amputation techniques. “They were all already dead.” 

About the Author

H.L. is an Australian writer of LGBT+ fiction. She holds a Master of Arts in International Relations (2015) and a Bachelor of Media in Communications and Journalism (2012), both from the University of New South Wales.


She is a lesbian of Jewish and Middle Eastern (Egyptian) heritage, and is an #OwnVoices writer. She has been writing stories since she was old enough to hold a pen. She is the author of M/M fantasy romance novels Heart of Dust and Soul of Ash, Books 1 & 2 of the Death’s Embrace series.

She has had two short stories published: “The Collector” in the 2014 Future Times Award Collection A Tick Tock Heart, and “Entente” in the 2020 Twisted Stories Award Collection Just Alice.

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New Release – Hunger Strike: The Road of Bones by T.J. Pike

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title:  Hunger Strike: The Road of Bones

Author: T.J. Pike

Publisher: Gnaw Publishing

Release Date: November 20, 2020

Genre/s: Dystopian, YA, sci-fi/fantasy

Trope/s: Reluctant Hero

Themes: Friendship, family, freedom versus oppression

Heat Rating: 1 flame      

Length:  95 391 words

It is book 1 in a series of 4

Buy Links 

 Amazon US  |   Amazon UK

The road must have its blood

Blurb

 Hunger Strike, The Road of Bones drops you two centuries into the future. The moon has been sheared in two, much of the Earth is a wasteland, and the world is ruled over by witches and sorcerers with cruelty and indifference. When the town of Endly is threatened by the tinkerer and his army of animorphs,  sixteen-year-old Hunger Strike, alongside his best friend, Winda,  and his adopted brother, Denver, devises a plan to move  thousands of its residents across the treacherous wilds, in the hopes of finding a new home within the borders of a strange land far to the west, known only as The Weird Wood.

Excerpt 

Winda is the adult in the room. Always. She approaches challenges logically. Where I’m a bumbling mess of emotions, Winda has a way of removing emotion from any given situation, and then, with a clear head, she begins to formulate a plan of action. 

So, I relate every detail of the past couple of hours to her, ending on a sour note with the impending invasion, and then I sit back, fold my arms across my chest, and I watch the gears spinning behind Winda’s eyes, a flickering candle between us. 

A minute passes. Two. Three.

“The beasts!” she shouts suddenly, jumping to her feet and kicking the leg of the table. Next, to my horror, she pulls her machete from its sheath and, in one lightning fast motion, she stabs its tip into the table, plants her hands, locks eyes with me, grits her teeth and she spits; “Well, I’m not going down without a fight, you hear?? We’ll certainly die, but we’re damned well going to take a few of them bastards down with us, and we’ll bathe in their blood together before our glorious deaths!”

I knit my eyebrows together. Clearly, someone has taken my Winda and they’ve replaced her with a person who delights in taking baths in other folks blood. I, however, do not. Where’s the adult in the room? The lack of emotion? The clear-headed plan? We really are screwed if even Winda can’t wrap her head around this thing and spit out a strategy other than bathing in blood and glorious deaths – a duo of rather unappealing options in my less-than-knowledgeable opinion on the subject.

“Um – I don’t like that plan, Winda,” I whisper, painfully aware that Denver is in my bedroom and probably listening to every word we say.

“What else is there??” she spits back at me, once again taking her seat.

I furrow my brow. “Running?”

“Leave – all these people to be slaughtered?” Winda hisses across the table at me. “Is that what you’re suggesting, Hunger?”

“No, Winda, that’s not what I’m suggesting,” I say.

“Then what?”

“We take them with us,” I say.

There’s a pause while Winda looks across the table at me like I’ve just grown a hideous extra head or two. “There are – thousands of people living in Endly, Hunger.”

“Two thousand, three hundred and thirty-seven,” a raspy little voice says. 

I glance over my shoulder. Denver is peeking into the kitchen from the hall.

Winda sneers at him. 

He gulps. 

Denver has always been quite anxious around Winda. It might be her machete, or the pistol, or the fact that he overheard us discussing how she had accidentally murdered her pet cat, Mr. Wiggles. Or all three. 

 About the Author

 T.J. Pike has been writing since splashing down on this tiny blue marble in late 1986, when a native of the planet observed what a brilliant liar he was. “You should either write a book or go into politics,” the woman was heard to say. Having been a VIP guest at the White House several thousand times over the past hundred years, he chose the former. Hand cramps, cold feet and early mornings soon inspired him to invent the computer, wool socks and coffee, though not in that order. Pike is currently number one on the Epsilon Delta Bestsellers list, and if you visit the Planet Arkon, you can find a bronze statue of him in the alleyway behind Smirk’s Liquor Mart, just to the left of the dumpster. Dubbed the most prolific story-teller of his time by Deckon-the-deceiver, Pike currently resides in New England, where he spends his days in the clouds, atop his dragon, Dinky, only stopping to allow her to feed on the occasional villager or two.

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Cover Reveal – To Poison a Prince by Aldrea Alien

COVER REVEAL

Book Title: To Poison a Prince

Author: Aldrea Alien

Cover Artist: Leonardo Borazio

Release Date: July 31, 2021

Genre: Fantasy M/M Romance

Trope/s: Hidden Villain, Hurt/Comfort, Man in Peril, Opposites Attract

Themes: Love, Cultural Differences, Revenge

Heat Rating:  4 flames 


Someone is out to murder his husband and he might just be the reason they succeed.

Blurb

Imperial Crown Prince Darshan knew his journey home wasn’t going to be the modest one he hoped for, especially not after eloping with Hamish, a former prince—and now exile—of Tirglas.

When he thwarts a clumsy attempt on his husband’s life during a soirée hosted by his long-standing rival and half-sister, he figures the worst is behind them.

Yet, the threat of death continues to shadow them across the empire. Someone is intent on making the rumours of his husband’s demise a reality, someone who can erase the memory of their very presence from people’s minds.

Darshan must discover who is behind the attempts before they succeed. But who can he trust when the culprit is capable of slipping by the most vigilant of guards?


About the Author

Aldrea Alien is an award-winning, bisexual author of fantasy romance with varying heat levels. Born and raised in New Zealand, she lives on a small farm with her family, including a menagerie of animals, who are all convinced they’re just as human as the next person. Especially the cats. Since discovering a love of writing at the age of twelve, she hasn’t found an ounce of peace from the characters plaguing her mind with all of them clamouring for her to tell their story first.


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