Three years ago, the small town of Ethel, VA, was rocked to its core when the lighthouse became a beacon for something an-cient and hungry. Every year since then, we’ve cast a protection spell, tying knots in rope while visualizing a protective shield, at the weathered tower a week before Samhain, our voices car-ried away by the salt-tinged wind. This year’s no different.

Cormac’s slender fingers intertwine with mine as we ap-proach Orla and Dave across the grassy shoreline. We’ve man-aged to mostly heal from the toxic tendencies of the past—the jealousy, the competition, the midnight arguments that left scorch marks on the walls. Magical abilities complementing each other have a tendency to do that, like puzzle pieces finally finding their fit.

The mid-October sunlight glints off Cormac’s long, blonde hair, turning each strand into spun gold against the blue sky. We don’t meet here at night anymore, not since the shadows began to move independently of their owners. She gently squeezes my hand in reassurance, slight crow’s feet crinkling around her eyes with a smile that blooms one of my own in return. She tries to continue her broody exterior by wearing a scuffed leather jacket with silver buckles, but her face is too full of light these days to continue the façade.

“It’s about time you two showed up,” Orla says as she wraps me in a hug, her dark curls tickling my cheek. Her automatic soul-possessing ability takes hold straight away, a warm honey-like sensation flooding through my veins. I feel her anxiety—sharp and metallic—and she feels mine. While hers is about the treacherous events three years ago, mine is about the small vel-vet box burning a hole in my pocket, holding a moonstone ring for Cormac.

I know she’ll say yes; I hear Orla’s thoughts echo in my mind like a whisper in an empty room. To assuage her anxiety, I push forward images of Cormac and me from earlier in the morning. We’d stayed in bed, all consumed with passionate kisses and bodies moving in rhythmic dance together; sheets twisted around our ankles, the taste of her still on my lips.

Okay, okay, you’re excused for being late, Orla sends through the connection, her mental voice tinged with amuse-ment. Then it’s gone as Dave, tall and broad-shouldered in his flannel-lined jacket, gently pulls her out of the hug. He com-plements her power as Cormac complements mine, his deep voice carrying over the crash of waves against the shore.

“Did you actually expect them to be on time?” he asks her, his breath visible in the chilly air.

Orla looks at me, her eyes sparkling, and we snicker like schoolgirls sharing a secret.

“Some of us know how to keep a woman in bed,” I goad Dave, watching his cheeks flush crimson.

Before he can respond, Cormac says, “Guys, I think you should come over here,” her voice tight with tension.

She’s rounding the other side of the lighthouse, her boots crunching on the path. I jog over to her, worried she might be in danger, the wind whipping my hair across my face. Once I’m next to her, I’m struck with frozen terror, my breath catching in my throat. As Orla and Dave’s footsteps catch up, I try to count the sleeping bodies sprinkled around the remnants of a bonfire.

Sprawled across the damp autumn ground lies a peculiar as-sembly of slumbering figures—some adorned in woolen cloaks and flowing medieval gowns; others draped in shimmering flapper dresses and tweed vests and flat caps. The incongruous sight sends a chill down my spine, conjuring memories of that haunted night years ago when phantoms in pheasant feathers and tarnished armor materialized from the mist. Could history be repeating itself? I draw Cormac closer, my fingers tightening protectively around her shoulder. A bitter wind sweeps through the clearing, rustling crimson leaves and stirring the strange visitors from their dreams.

“Oh, halloo,” calls a woman with cascading silver-streaked hair that catches the morning light. Deep laugh lines frame her eyes as she rises gracefully to her feet, brushing debris from her embroidered skirts. Her button nose crinkles above heart-shaped lips as she smiles warmly. “I’m Marie. We weren’t expecting anyone so early.”

“You’re days early for Samhain,” Orla informs her, her voice carrying across the clearing.

“Samhain!” exclaims a younger woman with stylish curls and bright eyes. She leaps up, clapping her hands together with enthusiasm, silver bracelets jingling at her wrists. “I’m Florian. I absolutely adore a proper shindig.”

Another woman glides forward, her tweed vest firmly hug-ging her body. She loops her arm possessively around Florian’s slender waist and extends her other hand, adorned with bangles that glint in the early light. “Kiersten,” she offers, her voice me-lodic but guarded.

“Molly, and this is Cormac,” I reply, mirroring Kiersten’s protective gesture by drawing Cormac against my side, feeling her warmth through her leather jacket.

“Might there be lodgings available in your village?” Marie inquires, her eyes scanning the distant rooftops visible through the thinning trees.

“Not anywhere that could accommodate a gathering of this size,” Dave responds, his weathered hands resting on his leather belt.

A tall woman with anxious eyes approaches Orla hesitantly. A man with sandy blond hair clutches her trembling arm as she nervously smooths out her skirt. Dave and I don’t miss her flinch with his touch, juxtaposing their closeness. It resurfaces memories from when Dave and Orla couldn’t touch. “Hello, I’m Claudia,” she murmurs, “and may I present Alex?” Her delicate fingers twist together nervously while Alex soothingly rubs her goosebump-covered arms.

“Orla and Dave,” Dave announces, nodding curtly. When Alex extends his hand to Orla, Dave intercedes and shakes his hand, so Orla doesn’t have to.

“Um, Orla,” Alex interjects, his deep voice surprisingly gen-tle. “Pardon our intrusion, but might Claudia ask you something rather personal?”

“Of course, what troubles you?” Orla asks, leaning forward with interest.

“Do you perceive others’ thoughts when you make physical contact?” Claudia whispers, her pale cheeks blooming with a rosy flush that spreads to the tips of her ears.

“Perhaps we should escort this assemblage to our home-stead,” Dave interrupts, clearing his throat. “We have several spare rooms. Not sufficient for everyone, but certainly prefera-ble to camping outside.”

“We’d be eternally grateful,” Marie responds, casting a con-cerned sideways glance at Claudia’s distressed expression. “A proper rest would benefit us tremendously after our… unusual journey.”

Ghostly Howls

Ghostly Howls Book 1

Irish folklore meets small town USA

A heartbroken half banshee, a cockle selling soul possessor, and a town haunted by mysteries…if they don’t find the killer, Orla and Molly might die before finding their soulmates.

Orla and Dave’s love has been unrequited for as long as they can remember. Cormac and Molly are used to drawing outside the lines. None of them are prepared for the new ghostly neighbors.

In a town that’s always ostracized them, can Molly and Orla finally use their powers openly in order to save the citizens?

*Contains mature themes, open door sex scenes, and mature language.

*Don’t miss the YA series also by Stephanie Hansen – Altered Helix & Replaced Parts

 

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Stephanie Hansen is a PenCraft and Global Book Award Winning Author as well as an Imadjinn finalist. Her debut novella series, Altered Helix, released in 2020. It hit the #1 New Release, #1 Best Seller, and other top 100 lists on Amazon. It is now being adapted to an animated story for Tales. Her debut novel, Replaced Parts, released in 2021 through Fire & Ice YA and Tantor Audio. It has been in a Forbes article, hit Amazon bestseller lists, and made the Apple young adult coming soon bestsellers list. The second book in the Transformed Nexus series, Omitted Pieces, released in 2022. Her debut spicy paranormal romance, Ghostly Howls, released 2023. Her debut historical magical realism, Armored Hours, released 2024. The Armored Hours sequel, Guarded Time, released 2025 and the Ghostly Howls sequel, Ghostly Returns, released 2026. She is a member of the deaf and hard of hearing community, so she tries to incorporate that into her fiction.

 

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Rissa Parker struggles to support herself and her daughter by working overnights as a home health nurse. After witnessing her employer’s murder, she has no choice but to grab her two-year-old and run toward the one person strong enough to protect them, the Navy SEAL who fathered her child during a one-night stand.

Navy SEAL Bernard “Burn” Cruz is a straight arrow, approaching work and play in equal parts. He doesn’t regret much in life, except for one woman he’s never forgotten. Nearly three years after their initial encounter, she shows up in San Diego at the bar his team likes to frequent, and he believes Forever might have knocked on his door. Until a child cries, and all hell breaks loose.

As bullets fly and bodies drop, Rissa must outrun a killer whose connection to her past threatens to destroy any chance at a future with the father of her child, and Burn discovers the family he didn’t know he wanted might be the only thing worth dying for.

Baby ConSEALed, an award-winning contemporary romantic suspense novel, is fast-paced, steamy and suspenseful. Pick up your copy today!

“A tightly plotted, fast-paced whirlwind of a ride fraught with secrets, danger, and an emotional love story that focuses on family—the kind you choose.” —Lena Diaz, Publishers Weekly best-selling author

“With a to-die-for hero, sizzling tension, and edge-of-your-seat suspense, this romance delivers all the feels in an unforgettable, heart-pounding read!” – Charlee Allden, Goodreads Review

“A fast-paced, slow-burn romantic suspense where danger, secrets, and second chances collide….  With bullets flying and hearts on the line, Leah Miles delivers high stakes and emotional impact in equal measure.” – Cam Torrens, Goodreads Review

**NEW RELEASE – GET IT NOW!!**

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Rissa Parker breathed through trembling fingers, the jackhammering of her heart nearly drowning out the voices as she peered through the closet’s slats. The speaker had his back to her, but her employer’s face was puce red, and her lips twisted to show a bit of her pearly white teeth.

“Well?” The man threw out both arms, momentarily blocking Rissa’s view.

Mrs. Iglesias inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled from her mouth. She reached for the cup on her nightstand and took a small sip before replacing it, making the man wait for her answer. “You need to calm down, Mijo. Yes. I wanted to speak with you, but I didn’t ask you to come in the middle of the night.”

Rissa struggled to keep her breathing quiet. Mijo? Wasn’t he a stranger?

“We were in town, and I didn’t feel like waiting.” He stalked around the expansive bedroom, which allowed Rissa occasional glimpses of his black suit and costly boots—Lucchese black-tooled leather— something she could never buy, although she had window-shopped plenty. His Stetson also cost a pretty penny. It had a filigree silver band with a feather trailing over the back rim. In the movies, people in hiding took pictures of the bad guys. But even if she was brave enough, her phone was still in her chair by the bed.

Mrs. Iglesias tucked her hands beneath her comforter. “Leave, Terrance, and take the bastard with you. We can’t have a conversation with you acting this way. Besides, I’m old and need my rest. You can come back mañana.”

Terrance halted his sporadic pacing and moved close to the bed. Now Rissa could see both of them.

“I’m sick of dealing with your bullshit. Come here. Come there. I need this. Get me that. This time, if you intended to piss me off,” he slow-clapped a few times, “then bravo, you fucking succeeded.”

An involuntary shudder rippled through Rissa when a second man moved in front of the closet, standing so close that his back brushed against the slats. His pants were dark, and he wore a thick utility belt. Rissa clamped her hand more tightly over her mouth, terrified of making any sound. This man was a police officer.

“You disrespectful ingrate.” Mrs. Iglesias’ querulous voice morphed into the steely tone of a queen. “I’m your mother, Terrance. You’d be nada, nothing, if not for me.”

Her son?

The officer’s hand moved to his belt, resting on his gun. Then he shifted a few feet away, allowing Rissa a better glimpse of Mrs. Iglesias through the slats. The old woman’s face was white as chalk, but her lips were set in a firm line.

“Step-mother,” Terrance growled before spitting on the pristine, white Berber carpet. “I was ten when my father took pity on a pathetic old woman and married you. You’re not my mother.”

Mrs. Iglesias bared her teeth at him, her voice vibrating. “Well, you’re forty-eight now. Old enough to know when you’re not welcome. Lárgate de mi vista. Get out.”

Terrance shoved her legs over and perched on the edge of the mattress. “Old woman, the days are past when I follow your orders. Now. Enough of your foolishness.”

“You have a lot of nerve—”

“I’m here at your request,” he interrupted, spreading his arms wide. “Now tell me the secret that was important enough you asked me to drive two hours.”

“If your papi was alive, you’d never treat me this way.” Her voice switched back to that of a tired old woman, but her eyes were narrowed slits. “I thought about sharing interesting information, but I’ve changed my mind. You don’t deserve to know this.” The motor on the bed whirred as she shifted higher on the mattress. “Leave and don’t return to my home again. I’m finished with you, Terrance. And take your killer with you.”

  

Leah Miles writes romance and paranormal fiction from her small-town in South Georgia, where she lives with her husband and cocker spaniel while running an insurance agency and Airbnb business.

After a dozen years in news production at CNN, Leah Miles now manages an insurance agency and an Airbnb business in rural Georgia, while writing romantic suspense and paranormal romance featuring take-charge heroes and fierce heroines.

 

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Enter the Baby ConSEALed Giveaway Here

Jenna McCray dedicated her life and trust fund to helping others succeed through her charitable foundation, Pathways Mission. After a self-imposed hiatus, her first venture back into the dating pool is an unmitigated disaster witnessed by many, including hunky Fire Marshall Thomas Donovan.

Donovan had a profound mistrust of the upper crust—until Jenna McCray. One photo in the paper. That’s all it took. Regal. Composed. A killer smile. She looked straight into the camera…and into him–and he hadn’t even met her yet.

When he finally did, the effect was seismic. Prim, proper, and utterly magnetic. Something primal flared to life inside him, and he was powerless against it. Calling her “The Ice Queen” didn’t help. Mocking was easier than admitting she’d gotten under his skin long before they even spoke.

When a fire ravages her business on the same night someone vandalizes her home, he wonders if the incidents are connected and searches for answers.

But someone wants to keep their secret buried.

As danger escalates, so does the blistering chemistry between Jenna and Donovan, and he vows to protect her at all costs—even if it means risking everything.

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Jenna shrieked and jumped up, toppling her chair and stumbling into someone behind her, who then collided with a waiter carrying a water pitcher, sending all three to the floor in a shower of ice-cold water.

She landed partially on top of the man, his arms around her waist as he bore the brunt of the fall. Another scream lodged in her throat when she saw it resting on her thigh.  

Suddenly, his hand moved, and the spider vanished.

“You’re okay,” murmured a husky voice against her ear. “It’s gone. You’re okay.”

Laughter filtered through a fog of humiliation. She’d freaked out—in a public place and lay on the floor atop a total stranger while Oscar did nothing but watch, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“Something wrong, Jenna?” he crooned.

“I t-t-told you I h-hate spiders.” Her body trembled, and she couldn’t control the quiver in her voice.

The man’s arms tightened slightly.

“Did you?” cooed Oscar. “I must have forgotten.”

***

Donovan couldn’t believe his eyes when he first saw Jenna McCray in person tonight. All prim and proper, like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, and his crazy heart raced like a runaway train. 

She’d dominated his thoughts from the moment he saw her picture in the paper two weeks ago. Hell, he’d even cut the damn thing out and kept it in his desk. How pathetic was that?

Everything from her regal posture to how she sipped the wine screamed money and class. Coffee-colored hair pulled into a tight bun at the nape, and pearl studs in her ears emphasized the delicate bone structure of her face and the fullness of ruby-colored lips. The basic black dress and single strand of pearls would look simple on most women. On her, it was elegant.

When their gazes locked briefly, the jolt of desire was so potent it shocked him.

The returning look of interest stole his breath.

Every unexplained feeling he’d endured the last two weeks hit like a tidal wave. It took massive effort to walk calmly to his table.  

Oscar’s joining her was an unpleasant shock. The man was dirty as mud. Why on earth would a woman like her associate with him?

Thoughts in turmoil, he decided to skip dinner and leave—until all hell broke loose.

He’d never met anyone with arachnophobia, but judging by her reaction to a fake spider, she suffered an extreme case. As snickers from the other patrons registered, his protective instincts surged.

A shudder rolled through her body, and she sucked in a jerky breath, mumbling something he didn’t catch.

“It’s gone,” he whispered. “You’re okay.”

She made a move to stand, and he maneuvered to assist, one hand remaining on her arm for stability.

“I’m so sorry,” she muttered, avoiding eye contact and swiping at the water on her dress. “I’ll pay to have your clothes cleaned.”

Face flaming, she watched the waiter clean up the mess. “Oh, Alfred,” she asked. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Miss McCray.” He nodded toward Oscar’s retreating figure. “And he’s to blame—not you.”

Donovan lightly squeezed her arm. “Ma’am? Are you okay?”

She managed a shaky “I’m fine,” then swallowed. “Th-thank you. For helping me.”

 Donovan clenched his teeth as his fantasy dreams went up in smoke. She couldn’t even look him in the eye when she mumbled insincere words of gratitude.

“Anytime.”

At his terse response, dark, earnest eyes, filled with confusion and something he couldn’t readily identify, whipped to his. Desire coursed through him, heady as strong whiskey, leaving him off-balance.

She frowned and retrieved a wallet from the bag on the table, pulled out a card and some bills, then passed the money to Alfred. “If this isn’t sufficient for my wine and the pitcher, please let me know.”

He hesitated, then took the money. “It’s fine, Miss McCray.”

A harried woman appeared from Donovan’s left. The manager—they’d met on a previous visit, but he couldn’t recall her name.

“Oh my God, Jenna. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Katie. Embarrassed but unhurt.” She nodded toward Donovan. “This gentleman broke my fall.” She nibbled her lower lip as though unsure of what to do next. Inhaling, she passed him the card. “Thank you, Mr…”

“Donovan.”

“Mr. Donovan. Please—”

“No mister. Just Donovan.”

Lips slightly parted, she hesitated. “Oh. Okay. Donovan. Please send me a bill for the dry cleaning.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“Yes. It is.”

Cheeks the brightest red he’d ever seen, her earnest expression softened.

“Please.”

That one word curbed his resentment. He took the card, ignoring the tingle as their fingers brushed.

“Donovan,” said Katie. “Thank you for helping my friend.”

“No problem, ma’am.”

“And dinner’s on me tonight.”

“Actually, I was just leaving.”

She looked around. “Was something wrong with your table?”

He shook his head. “Unexpected change in plans. I was on my way out when—this happened.”

“Then please accept a raincheck for next time.”

He nodded, knowing he would never accept the offer, no matter how kindly extended.

Katie rubbed Jenna’s shoulder. “Guess kicking him to the curb in a public place wasn’t such a good idea after all, huh?”

Donovan barely covered his surprise. So that’s what happened—good for her.

Jenna’s gaze skipped from him to Katie. “No. It wasn’t.”

“I’ve never seen you react that way before.”

She glanced at Donovan. “I—it just surprised me. That’s all.”

He immediately recognized the lie. She wasn’t surprised. She was terrified.

“I told him they bothered me.”

And that’s the understatement of the century.

 “And you’d already told him to back off,” added Katie, “so the creep had a Plan B to get even. I’m just happy you weren’t hurt.”

This time, when she looked at Donavan, her gaze held, and the intensity floored him. A dark chocolate brown enhanced by a golden ring around the edges, they glistened in the restaurant’s ambient lighting.

Or was it unshed tears? 

Texas Winds

by Dana Wayne

Genre: Contemporary Small-Town Romance

Two hearts shattered by betrayal. Once chance to trust again.

 

Jake Holloway discovered his wife’s infidelity as she lay in a coma, carrying a child that may not be his.

Four years later, his heart remains closed to all emotion. Lexie Morgan’s dream of happily-ever-after ended the day she stood alone at the altar. The need to put distance between her and the pain places her in the path of feral hogs and Jake Holloway’s life. Neither is prepared for the intense attraction.

When Lexie meets his four-year-old daughter, Katie, the timid child with downcast eyes steals her heart.

Forced to rely on Jake’s assistance, it’s impossible to ignore the escalating pull.

But the past never dies, and resurrected hurts threaten their fragile bond.

Will the ever-changing Texas winds hold them together or reduce their love to dust?

 

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Ankle and hip throbbed in unison, and a growing headache added to the misery mix.

She took a breath and looked around. The front bumper dug into the far side of the muddy embankment, and the blown-out tire rested in muck halfway up the rim. Dingy water in the ditch swirled around her feet and leached up her mud-coated pant legs. Her disgusted gaze took in the filthy jeans and soaked and blood-coated tee shirt. “Crap,” she muttered. “Brand new shoes.” She swiped a hand across her cheek, leaving a streak of bloody mud in its wake. “Great way to start my first vacation in years.”

She adjusted her grip on the door and blew wet hair away from her mouth. “Alrighty then.” Muttering under her breath, she reached past the dog and plucked the half-full Swear Jar from the floorboard. An irritated swipe at the wet hair clinging to her cheek left more muddy streaks behind. “Time for the big guns.” She placed the jug on the seat near Biscuit and pulled two soggy one-dollar bills and three quarters from her pocket. She took a breath and ceremoniously dropped the quarters through a slot cut into the lid, mumbling after each one. “Damn. Damn. Dammit.” She took a deep breath and crammed the wet bills through the hole. “And son-of-a-bitch.” 

“Don’t reckon that’s gonna help much.”

An f-bomb exploded before she could stop it.

***

Startled by the man’s deep voice, Lexie swore and spun around, tossing the jar over her shoulder as intense pain shot up her leg.  Off-balance, she grabbed the door to keep from falling on her rear as the jug landed with a mushy thump at the stranger’s feet.

The brim of a dark Stetson cast his face in shadow, but there was no disguising his frame. Tall, at least six-two or three, shoulders a mile wide, with long, muscular legs encased in worn jeans. Muddy work boots covered his feet, and well-used leather gloves stuck out of his front pocket. Rain dripping from the brim of his hat left wet trails on his pale blue chambray shirt, and the rolled-up sleeves revealed tanned, muscular forearms.

He hesitated, then picked up the jar, one corner of his mouth curling up as he read the inscription. “I’m guessing that last word is expensive,” he said as he passed her the container before stepping back.

His husky, just-woke-up voice raced through her like fine wine, leaving her momentarily speechless. “It is,” she snapped and took the jug. “Five bucks.”  She glanced past him and noted a grime-coated, black Ford F250 crew cab parked behind him on the shoulder of the road. Holy crap. I never heard a thing. She eyed her bag, mentally calculating how long it would take to reach the pistol inside if needed. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people. I have a gun. And I know how to use it.” 

He made no effort to approach, just stood there, hands on his hips. “Are you hurt?”

She gripped the door tighter when her throbbing ankle threatened to fold again. “No. I’m good.”

“You have blood on your face. And mud.”

His intense gaze traveled up and down her body, causing an involuntary shiver.

“Were you ejected?”

“No. I slipped when I got out.”

He tipped his head toward the back seat. “What about the dog?”

She glanced at Biscuit, who showed no concern over the stranger’s sudden appearance, and noted a little blood on the side of his mouth. How did she miss that before? “Biscuit!” Dismissing the man, she leaned against the car and ran her hands over the dog again, checking more thoroughly for anything broken. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

The dog stoically endured her frantic exam with only a slight whimper when she touched his front paw before moving to his mouth. “Come on, baby, open up.” She slowly pried his jaw open and saw blood on his tongue.

“Looks like he bit it. Probably on impact.”

It took tremendous effort not to react to the unexpected voice behind her left shoulder. “Yeah. Probably. I’ll have him checked out when I get to town.” 

He looked at the luggage piled in the back of the SUV. “Where you headed?” 

She glanced up and discovered walnut-colored eyes watching Biscuit, his square jaw visibly tense. His face was rugged and somber, bronzed by wind and sun and covered with dark stubble. No laugh lines around full lips, and unspoken pain was alive in dark, fathomless eyes. In a heartbeat, his expression changed, switching to closed-off and distant as he took two steps back, hands stuffed in his front pockets.

Multi-awarding winning author Dana Wayne is a sixth-generation Texan and still resides in the Piney Woods. She routinely speaks at book clubs, writers’ groups and other organizations and is a frequent guest on numerous writing blogs. A die-hard romantic, her stories are filled with strong women, second chances, and happily ever after.

“I’m all about the romance, so my tales are heartwarming, have a splash of suspense and humor. While they are a little steamy, I believe romance is more about emotion than sex, and the journey is more important than the destination.

“I retired in late 2013 and published my first book in 2016. I was over the moon when it was awarded first place in a contest through the Texas Association of Authors, and I never looked back. My books have been nominated for and/or received various awards and numerous five-star reviews. To have my work validated in such a manner is very gratifying and humbling.”

Affiliations include Texas Association of Authors, Writers League of Texas, East Texas Writers Guild, Northeast Texas Writers Organization, and East Texas Writers Association.

 

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Chapter 1 – Run

“Prue!” Everett gasped, unable to disguise the desperation in his voice. His legs were aching, his lungs burning, and his heart was pounding erratically in his chest – a reminder that, despite everything, he was still alive.

Maybe not for much longer.

He wheezed, attempting to inhale more air, but from the weakness in his legs, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

“Prue! Which way?” he cried, casting a panicked glance at his sister. He imagined he could hear them, the cocking of their guns, drawing near. Every flicker of movement in the streetlight, every sound, felt magnified, as though even the shadows were poised and ready to pounce.

“Both ways are blocked,” Prue replied at last, her feet pounding the pavement beside Everett, faltering only as they approached the junction. She frowned, eyelashes fluttering, and clenched her fists, her nails leaving angry red indentations in the palms of her hands. She was very pale.

“What are you talking about?” Everett gasped, slowing to a canter.

“Nothing is certain.”

Everett, while used to his sister’s cryptic remarks, was not in the mood for games. “That’s not helping!” he cried, skidding to a halt as they reached the turning. He cast a glance over his shoulder. “Are we going left, or right?”

Prue froze and her eyes did too, as they often were when she saw things nobody else could. “I told you,” she said, in a detached tone. “Both ways are blocked.”

Everett cocked the gun he’d held loosely in his palm, trying to ignore the way it slipped slightly in his grasp, dampened by his sweat-slick skin. “Does that mean we’re dead either way?” he asked, with a carelessness he didn’t quite feel. He checked his ammunition, if only to busy his shaking hands, knowing it would probably make little difference in the end. Maths had never been his strong point, but he knew one gun against hundreds were never favourable odds.

“They’re coming,” Prue informed her brother, although she did not meet his eyes. She was staring into the blackness at the other end of the street; Everett followed her gaze, but as always, saw nothing.

“Where—?” he began, before freezing. He couldn’t see, only hear, the rapid pounding of footsteps along a cobbled street. Low at first, the sound was growing louder, clear in the otherwise silent night. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up in warning. “Ok, you’re right,” he conceded, in a generous tone, “They’re coming! No foresight needed for that. Which way do we go?”

Prue shook her head, dark hair clinging to her bowed face, her eyes crunched in concentration. She was covered in sweat.

“Wait— wait—” Everett muttered, in a panicked breath, realising his sister was going to be of no help. He could see them now, shadows moving in the darkness, emerging at the end of the street. The Officers of the Occult. He shot three times in quick succession – one, two, three – and something must have found its mark, from the strangled cry of pain that followed. They were still alive, then. Good.

Everett had only a moment to feel relief before the others swarmed. They were closing in on them. Although in range, they had yet to fire a single shot; as he expected, their aim was to capture, not to kill.

“Something is changing,” Prue said from beside Everett. She clutched her head, fisting her fingers into her hair, as though physically trying to remove something from her mind. “Another factor is clouding things. His choices are unclear. He’s conflicted already.”

“Prue!” Everett cried, trying to pick something of use from her incoherent ramblings. He pushed her sideways, behind the wall of a garden and out of sight – at least for the moment. They were running out of time – the Officers would be upon them in less than a minute, and then there would be no escape. “Pick a way! Which way has more chance of survival?”

Prue gazed up at the sky, but she was seeing nothing. “Left,” she replied at last, “Maybe he will spare us.”

Without taking a second to contemplate what his sister might mean, Everett grabbed her slippery hand and pulled, turning a sharp left, the Officers of the Occult temporarily vanishing from view. 

The Queen of the Underworld

The Occult Series Book 2

The Queen of the Underworld is the second novel in the award-winning The Occult Series by Lauren Louise Hazel.

Following the fall of The Occult and its Head, Prue receives visions of The Queen of the Underworld—a powerful Demon who was once overthrown by her allies and exiled from her homeland—rising in its place.

Prue sees that the Queen is connected to Prue’s best friend, Lily. This leads Prue and her half-brother, Everett, on their mission across worlds to destroy the Queen and save their friend. But nothing is what it seems.

The Queen is ready and waiting for them—and she will stop at nothing to secure her future and wipe out anyone who opposes her.

 

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Lauren Louise Hazel is a Cyber Security Manager by day and writes YA fantasy by night. She has one annoying brother and younger sister. As she was growing up, the only item her dad would buy her without demanding her pocket money was books. He’s hoping the writing is successful so he can get a Ferrari!

Some of Lauren’s favourite books and influences include the classics – like Lord of the Rings and The Hunger Games – and anything by Haruki Murakami and GRR Martin.

 

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“A must read for those interested in the future of business and beyond.” – Amazon reviewer

We are all entrepreneurs, as we try to break away from the chains of normative expectations in this grand adventure we call life—where we strive to thrive, survive, find purpose, and make sense of all we can be.

The Guerrilla Guide for Entrepreneurs & The Rest of Us is an action-packed, high-octane playbook that delivers skills, insights, opportunities, and occasional wit. It takes the reader to a place where old-school grit and new-school AI reconcile! It is a place where Elon Musk meets Jack Ma and a Harvard MBA encounters the Streets.

You may be working in an organization, in management, a gig worker, running a business, or creating the next Nvidia. Either way, this book equips you with actionable know-how and skills that are nothing short of life-changing and saves the empowerment hype for the fictional section of the library.

Happy Hour is over, and the last patrons will be unceremoniously thrown out of the New Orleans bar to a street named Yesterday! Arguing with the future is like calling the cops to give out speeding tickets at the INDY 500. Scrolling for answers on TikTok or YouTube Shorts leads to a street called Empty.

The Guerrilla Guide for Entrepreneurs connects the past, confronts the present, and predicts the future before it happens.

It’s where glory meets tragedy—and it’s all here:

*Does innovation actually pay?

*Who are the 12 greatest entrepreneurs that changed civilization—and what can we learn from them?

*How to master the art and science of sales, negotiation, financing, and brand-building

*How to leverage AI for competitive advantage

*How will AI reshape the employment market

*Tales from the Streets…

*What will the future of Tomorrow look like?

In The Guerrilla Guide for Entrepreneurs, Gulesserian’s third book takes you through fascinating and indelible destinations filled with twists, turns, glory, and tragedy—culminating in a knowledge-packed read that delivers real, actionable results. With a blend of humour, insight, and sharp wit, he takes the gloves off for all 12 rounds and presents a truly unique perspective forged from his lifetime of entrepreneurial business and brand-building, along with his time as a business management professor.

This book not only enriches and charges the reader’s mind with hard-earned wisdom—it also stands as an essential reference for your personal library and a call to arms!

What readers are saying:

“If Michael Porter and Anthony Bourdain co-wrote a business book, it might look like this. The Guerrilla Guide for Entrepreneurs fuses sharp strategic frameworks with gritty real-life business lessons from the trenches. From learning curves to AI disruption, Gulesserian doesn’t just talk theory—he’s lived it.
Wit, insight, and humility pour through every chapter. The negotiation section alone should be required reading. And the “Tales from the Streets” offer the kind of context no MBA program dares touch. Highly recommended for anyone who wants their business knowledge with teeth.” – Amazon reviewer

“From AI to competitive strategy to opportunity, to the history of innovation — and especially the negotiation chapter — this book is simply worth its weight in gold. It’s the street-smart MBA you wish existed: bold, raw, yet refined — and full of moments that make you rethink the past, the present, and the future. There are plenty of feel-good and empowerment books, but this one actually delivers actionable skills, insight, and strategy — in a way that’s entertaining.” – Amazon reviewer

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Joseph Gulesserian is a seasoned entrepreneur, brand strategist, and former business management professor who taught corporate finance, statistics and marketing at the post graduate level. With over 30 years of real-world experience he has launched companies, created consumer brands from scratch, and helped others grow theirs by uniquely blending street-smart strategy, business school training and hands on know-how.

He is also the author of the bold and prophetic The Practical MBA on Economics—a no-nonsense, eye-opening look at how the global economy really works, why fiat money is eroding your wealth, what you can do about it, while providing a looking glass into the future.

Known for blending humor, wit, irreverence, and actionable insight, Joe writes for entrepreneurs, career-minded professionals, and anyone ready to thrive in a world of seismic disruption.

He believes business is not just for boardrooms—it’s a survival skill. The Guerrilla Guide for Entrepreneurs is his call to arms.

 

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Interruption: Kingdom of Paradimia

The Princess Annals Book 2

by Victor Pierce

Genre: Erotic Romantasy

Aaliyah’s journey continues in this erotic fantasy-scape as she struggles to understand whether love includes depravity.

Exposed to a handful of soul dust, Aaliyah re-awakens and sets off to free Gabriel from his prison within the Dry Woods. Outside, she is again confronted by a gryphon but with no not-to-bright knight to defend her. Good thing the gryphon only wants companionship. The flight of a wandering heartsick gryphon is not a direct route to anywhere and after watching a raunch of unicorns, Liyah tumbles into a magical river far from her desired destination. Between encounters with dwarves who remember her forgotten promise and fairies who sell favors for power, she must master the primal magics of patterning and untether the pleasures she once bound to fidelity.  For Liyah has learned that Gabriel, the man who anchors her, is not only trapped in the Dry Woods but also bound by primal locks that will age him to death if opened incorrectly. 

Every bit of new magics comes with a cost: soul-dust addiction, bargains that entangle desire and duty, and adversaries who want her power for themselves. With time collapsing and a witch’s spell hovering like an axe, Liyah must decide whether the route to rescue is the same path she promised never to tread—pleasure given away to reclaim what matters most. The question is simple and brutal: how much will she sacrifice to save him?

 

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Liyah blinked and found herself back in her body in the castle’s kitchen. Edwin gazed at her, concerned. “What happened? Are you all right?”

Indeed. She looked down to where the bag of red dust should have been cupped in her hand. The bag, along with its siblings on the table, had disappeared. For a moment, Liyah mourned. She wanted to return.

Edwin must have read her expression. “I removed it. It’s addictive. Soul dust. If I’d known something so powerful was left hanging around in the kitchens, I would have checked and removed it earlier. Perhaps magical royalty is less concerned with lower magics. Are you alright?” He’d rounded the table and stood beside her, rubbing her back.

She wasn’t, but she didn’t want him focused on her. She needed him to return to the dragon. “Lower magics?”

He sighed. “I forget you do not remember certain things. Most things, it seems, related to magics. In my kingdom, Paradimia, we are not generally born magics users, but we do have access to lower magics—magics not of people, but of things, like the soul dust. Low-level magics—from something inanimate, like the dust—may be used by anyone, whether they are magical themselves or not.”

She’d thought this land was without magics, but it seemed there were magics within, just not many magics of living beings. She nodded. “So it is not likely low-level magics would be hanging around in a kitchen. I understand.” She felt around on her body. “I don’t seem to be injured, so perhaps it is time I started my journey.”

“Do you not wish for my company?”

She needed him elsewhere. “It isn’t that I don’t want you with me. My parents need your assistance. Bethela will need another story for the spell needed to put my parents back to sleep. And I am going to the Dry Woods to free Gabriel. You see? We are fated to part ways now.”

It was a pity his expression grew suspicious, for she had relayed the truth. His voice broke as he spoke. “Is it what I did with the gargoyles? Is that why you no longer wish for my assistance?”

She had only briefly thought of the gargoyles since she died. It must have weighed on him. “It is not the gargoyles, although I know you to be the true knight you are from what I witnessed. And I know you to have love in your heart, even when you sometimes speak to me without consideration. No. Here I ask you to be the guardian I know you to be.”

“But why is it important that your parents go back to sleep? Surely they can be of greater assistance awake. They will eventually remember who you are.”

Liyah reached out and squeezed his arm. “I already know who I am, Edwin. That is thanks to you. I am Aaliyah, and I am kind and courageous and determined. I know those things about myself because of you.”

Edwin sighed and leaned back against the table. His golden locks fell against his handsome face. “So now I need to help your parents go back to sleep.”

“Yes. If anyone remembers who I am, a spell will find and kill me. Like the spell that protected the castle.”

He frowned. “Yes. That was very dangerous.”

“And my father says this spell is far worse than the one that chased us about Haven. So, you see, it is imperative that they go back to sleep. I do not wish to separate, but I must free Gabriel. When I left him, he was afire again.”

The Princess Annals: Kingdom of Haven

The Princess Annals Book 1

In this fantasy world of the erotic, Aaliyah must journey to find her lost identity. Aaliyah awakens in an empty castle with no memory and only an enchanted clock to send her on her quest. Seduce by one not-to-bright knight, Aaliyah finds herself hunted by an unseen force yet imbued with powerful magic. She must coerce horny pixies, swap sex stories with a dragon, and rely on that same not-too-bright knight to seduce the gargoyle king and his coven in order to secure the incantation that will reveal who she is. And her unknown enemy is catching up to her fast.

Aaliyah’s journey sends her to Gabriel imprisoned in a magical wood. She grows to love Gabriel and discovers that the only thing which can release him now is love, absolute. But how can she love completely if she doesn’t know who she is?

Beware gentle reader; thread carefully through this erotic romp as a woman awakened to her innate powers risks all to discover her true self before an unseen enemy annihilates her.

This is the first Aaliyah story in the series.

 

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Victor Pierce is a seasoned writer with a focus on erotic fiction. He enjoys classic mythology and horror novels. His first series, The Princess Annals, draws together his love for mythology and the erotic. He resides in College Park with his partner and her anxiety-ridden black cat and overly-social gray cat. You may reach him at victor.pierce@bookofvenus.com or at or at https://www.bookofvenus.com/connect-with-us/

 

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Enter the Interruption Giveaway Here

Arthur and Hallie are twin siblings, son and daughter of the Duke of Lodesmoor. Humble teenagers who befriend the village people and sympathize with their grievances. Their father, Lord Balmier, whose duchy is approaching financial collapse, uses his subjects as pawns in a battle over a string of valuable mines.

Lord Balmier sees his son’s sympathy toward the serfs as an alliance against him and soon acts to squelch Arthur’s sedition.

Hallie clings to a forbidden love, and both siblings must resist their father’s harsh rule.

All the while they are unaware that their mother keeps a mystical dragon named Killian, bound in chains by a spell, whose fate will affect them all.

As the twin moons approach a rare and magical eclipse, alliances shift, secrets unravel, and Arthur and Hallie must choose between loyalty, freedom, and sacrifice to save their people and themselves.

“With strong pacing and a cast of memorable characters – including a homesick dragon, this is the perfect book for fans of the ‘fantasy’ genre. Highly recommended!” – The Wishing Shelf

***Check out the kickstarter campaign!**

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Land of Two Moons will be a limited edition leather hardcover signed and numbered, a special edition case laminate hardcover, an eBook, and a paperback with printed edges. A rigid slip case is available for the hardcovers. 

 

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Prologue

     Pattin didn’t know what they were fighting for. All he knew was that when their commander yelled the order he was to let loose his arrows toward another trench opposite theirs somewhere in the Red Sands desert. Rumor was they were fighting over mines, dukes, power, and money. Nothing he’d ever be privy to. It didn’t matter. He was here because he’d been conscripted.

He’d been in this trench for nine days straight. Hot, drenched in sweat, sick to his stomach, and with little to eat or drink. Tired of swatting flies and stepping over the bodies of his comrades, he was ready to leave. No one wanted to be here, especially not the lads from Bidsworth, and especially not on the front lines.

He spat the dust out of his mouth and bit another piece of jerky.

“When is she going to come for us?” he asked his friend.

“Tonight, they said. Maybe,” Ivan whispered.

“What do you mean, maybe? She promised.”

“She can only take five at a time.”

“Bloody Marks, she’s been here every night for a week. What’s she going to do, get everyone but us? The more people who leave, the less chance of survival for those who stay. I’m too young to die in this rat hole.”

Ivan shrugged—a hint that he wasn’t happy about the situation either.

“We could try and make a run for it on our own,” Pattin whispered, his lips barely moving, glancing around the desolate countryside.

Over the sand, the heat waves danced, crafting a mirage of water, a deceptive illusion that only a fool would pursue. Bait for the enemy. Pattin licked his lips, wishing for a drink of cool water from the springs in Bidsworth, his homeland, a wealthy duchy whose stone structures mirrored the color of the red earth. Here in the wasteland, iron ore poisoned the vegetation, and there was nothing but dust as far as the horizon. The soldiers hated this place, and rumors of desertion were burning the ears of the agents at base. The officers were watching the troops like hawks.

“Fool. We’d have bolts in our backs, dead. Is that what you want? If I’m going to desert, I’m doing it with Kezia.” Ivan wiped the sweat from his brow; his face caked with red earth. Even his eyelashes were laden with dirt.

“What makes her so special that she can get us out with no one noticing?”

Ivan snickered and glared at him. “She’s the duke’s daughter, remember? Plus, she’s smart, crafty, and wicked.”

“Duke sabotages his own army through his daughter!” Pattin mumbled.

“Stop complaining or she’ll never come and get you.”

Pattin wiped his brow, his mouth fixed in a frown. She might not come for him at all. It’s everyone else’s luck to be saved by a duchess.

“Heads up!” The dreaded warning arrived just as a flurry of bolts blotted out the sun.

Pattin covered his head with his shield. Ivan lifted his own targe to cover his body while the plummeting projectiles thundered on it.

“Move!” came the command.

Like a terrified beetle, Pattin crouched on the ground and joined the others, locking his shield with Ivan’s as the company crawled through the trench, hands and knees bleeding, while avoiding the corpses of friends who didn’t survive. Away from the onslaught they moved, abandoning their supplies. Someone would be sent back for them when the sun settled on the horizon and the two moons rose.

Soon everyone here would have to leave the trenches and charge at the enemy. That was a standard maneuver, and it was just a matter of time. Hand to hand combat would kill him, Pattin was certain. With practiced ease, he could loose an arrow, always striking the mark. But his end would come by the cold steel of a sword. He hoped it would be tomorrow. He wasn’t ready to die today.

Maybe Kezia would draw his name and come for him tonight. Maybe he would live through this bloody war, after all.

D.L. Gardner is an award-winning author, artist, filmmaker, and screenwriter with over 28 published works to her credit. Writing and painting are her passions and fantasy her forte. When she’s not pounding keys on the computer, she’s canning salsa, picking apples, listening to the voices of critters in the woods, or watching flowers grow. She loves visiting far-off lands through books by both reading and writing.

 

Her genres include all fantasy, historical, and mystery.

 

Get to know D.L. through her websites and blogs or send her a message her on Kickstarter.

 

Currently a FINALIST (2025 March) in the Cannes World Wide Film Festival for her screen adaption of her book An Unconventional Mr. Peadlebody.

 

Other awards include Wishing Shelf book Award 2023 for audio, B.R.A.G. Award 2022 for the Cho Nisi series, Book Excellence Award 2019 and 2015 for Ian’s Realm and Cassandra’s Castle. Best Screenplay adaptation from her book Dylan at the Paris Screenplay Awards, Mile Hill International Screenplay Awards, L.A. Edge Awards, European Cinematography Awards, and Moondance Film Festival. Best Screenplay Award for adaptation from her book An Unconventional Mr. Peadlebody at Veers Film Festival, Best Screenplay Award for adaptation of Ian’s Realm at the Twin Falls Sandwiches Film Festival and many more.

  

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When darkness falls on the kingdom of Ardanthia, readers will find themselves caught up in a story where nothing is what it seems. Princess Eloise faces impossible choices as murder and betrayal tear her world apart. Her secret love for the Prince of Caladorn adds another layer of danger to an already deadly situation. This isn’t just another royal romance – it’s a heart-pounding adventure where love and loyalty clash in the most dangerous ways possible. You’ll feel every moment of tension as Eloise walks the razor’s edge between duty and desire.

Mystery and Investigation That Keeps You Guessing

Sir Cedric Blackthorn brings detective skills that would make any crime solver jealous. His brilliant mind works to solve puzzles that could save or destroy an entire kingdom. As Ambassador Zafir arrives with hidden motives and Baron Gorgo schemes from the shadows, every character becomes a suspect. The investigation twists and turns through palace halls filled with secrets. You’ll find yourself trying to solve the mystery alongside Cedric, picking up clues and second-guessing every revelation. The chase scenes will have you on the edge of your seat as our heroes race against time through a kingdom ready to explode into war.

Fantasy Adventure That Brings Legends to Life

The Broken Crown Saga starts with this incredible first book that mixes political drama with fantasy elements that feel fresh and exciting. Secret groups work behind the scenes, pulling strings that control the fate of nations. The world-building draws you in completely, making you believe in a place where magic and politics dance together in dangerous ways. This story proves that sometimes solving one crime can prevent an entire war – and that the most important battles happen in the shadows.

For readers of David Eddings and Terry Brooks, this sweeping tale of betrayal, magic, and destiny will leave you breathless.

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Twilight’s Dominion

The Broken Crown Saga Book Two

The peace was always a lie. They just didn’t know whose.

Queen Eloise of Ardanthia has done everything right. She negotiated the alliance with Caladorn, married the prince, held her court together through blight and borderland attacks and the whispered threat of an ancient secret order. Now, with villages vanishing overnight — crops blackened, livestock dead, people simply gone — she does what any good ruler would do. She sends her best.

Sir Cedric Blackthorn, the precise and principled knight-investigator. Captain Elira, a soldier who has survived too much to flinch at anything. Tomas, a scholar more at home with footnotes than fistfights. Ryn, a street thief from the Saltspire docks whose instincts are worth more than anyone’s education. And Auralias — the Court Mage, brilliant and unsettling in equal measure — who brings knowledge of old magic that none of the others possess, and who may be the only thing standing between Ardanthia and the League of the Moon.

Together, they are hunting the League before the League can finish what it started.

What they find will change everything they think they know — about the attacks, the conspiracy, and the true scale of what is being assembled in the dark. There are artifacts, older than any living kingdom, whose power was thought lost to history. There are secrets buried so deep that uncovering them will cost more than anyone is prepared to pay. And there is a question, growing louder with every mile: who, exactly, is the enemy?

Twilight’s Dominion is a story about loyalty tested to breaking, courts where every smile hides a calculation, and the particular horror of realising that the enemy has been in the room all along. It is about a queen learning that the peace she built was built for her — and a company of mismatched, battle-worn companions who keep fighting even after the ground gives way beneath them.

Set across mountain fortresses carved from living rock, fog-wrapped port cities, a besieged royal palace, and the treacherous corridors of two kingdoms in collision, this is epic fantasy for readers who like their politics sharp, their magic consequential, and their betrayals earned.

Perfect for readers who love:

*The political intrigue of A Song of Ice and Fire

*The ensemble loyalty of The Lies of Locke Lamora

*The world-building depth of Robin Hobb

*Characters who are competent, scarred, and worth caring about

“There’s no certainty in what’s ahead. But I’d rather die among friends than watch the world go to monsters.”

The Broken Crown Saga:
Book One: The King’s Fall
Book Two: Twilight’s Dominion
Book Three: Echoes of Kings – coming soon

 

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Sir Cedric Blackthorn has been sent by Queen Eloise to investigate a string of attacks on eastern villages — crops blackened overnight, animals dead, people vanished without trace. He has assembled a team: Captain Elira, the scholar Tomas, the street-sharp Ryn, and the Court Mage Auralias. They are holed up at a battered inn in the village of Riverbrook, pooling what they have learned. Ryn has found a symbol at the attack sites that she recognises from her past. The Court Mage would prefer she hadn’t.

~800 words

 

A serving girl arrived with a tray — three mugs of thin beer, a hunk of bread already sliced, a battered tin bowl of what might once have been rabbit stew. She set them down with the briskness of a woman determined not to get involved.

Cedric waited until she retreated, then signalled the others to lean in. “What did you find?”

Elira was first. “Nobody trusts the Queen, or the Watch, but they’re more afraid of the thing in the sky.”

Tomas nodded, tapping his notebook. “A few remember blue light, but most didn’t look up. What they all describe is the shadow.”

Cedric cut a piece of bread, chewing while he thought. “Is someone calling it, or guiding it?”

Ryn cleared her throat, the movement dramatic. “I’ve been thinking about the sigil. The one we found at the granary.” She looked around, daring anyone to interrupt. “In Marinth, there were stories about a League, never heard it called anything but that. Supposedly, they could move information, gold, even bodies, without ever being caught. I thought it was just a trade guild myth.”

Tomas looked up, interest lighting his face. “Could the League be the League of the Moon?”

Auralias made a dismissive noise. “You’re giving too much weight to old wives’ tales, Ryn. The League is a legend designed to explain incompetence in the city guard. There’s no evidence it was ever real.”

“Then why’s the sigil match?” Ryn shot back. “And why are you so keen on ignoring it?”

Auralias’s expression remained bland, but Cedric noticed a pulse beating at the mage’s temple. “Symbols recur, Investigator. That’s what makes them useful. Even a street child should know that.”

Cedric intervened, keeping his tone calm. “Auralias, what do you really know about the League of the Moon?”

The Mage’s lips pressed together. “More than you, and less than I’d like. If it ever existed, it would have been in the days before the Crown outlawed private orders. All records are destroyed, and the only witnesses are centuries dead.”

Tomas leaned forward. “Except the sigil is real. And the glyphs at Oakvale match. Ryn sketched them, I checked.” He fished in his coat, produced a stained scrap of paper, and set it on the table. “See? The same looping curve, the half-moon mark. Whoever is doing this wants us to know.”

“Or wants to make sure only certain people understand,” Ryn added.

Elira interjected, “It doesn’t matter if they’re real or not. If someone’s using their symbols to orchestrate attacks, we treat it like a live threat. We set watches and keep everyone out of sight. Tomas, you map the attacks; Cedric, you cross-check with any suspected League activity. I’ll lock down the inn, keep the townsfolk from panicking.”

Cedric raised an eyebrow at his subordinate, though he appreciated her directness. He looked around the table. “Agreed?”

“Never thought I’d see the day I’d be guarding a village from a bedtime story,” Ryn said, flashing a grin.

Auralias turned away, eyes on the fire. “Just remember: stories are dangerous when people start believing them.”

The meal finished in silence, each companion lost in their own thoughts. The villagers cast sidelong glances, their conversations stilled whenever the group moved or spoke too loudly. Ryn broke the tension by stealing a second bowl of stew, then made a game of picking out which villagers might have been spies or informants in another life.

Elira stationed herself by the door, hand always resting on the hilt of her sword, eyes never quite still. Tomas worked by lantern, scribbling diagrams and lists and odd runes that might, in another context, have been poetry. Cedric alternated between reviewing his notes and watching Auralias, who stared into the flames with a focus so intense Cedric wondered if he saw something there that no one else could.

Cedric pulled Ryn aside as the others made ready for bed. “You’re sure about the sigil?”

“You don’t forget a symbol that comes with that many warnings,” she said, fierce and certain.

He smiled, in spite of everything. “We’ll follow it through, then. Watch yourself around Auralias.”

“Always do.”

They rejoined the others. Tomas and Elira had staked out bunks at the back wall, with good sight lines on both windows and the main door. Cedric took a spot on the floor while Ryn slid onto the bench nearest the exit, hands folded behind her head.

The last thing Cedric saw before drifting into a restless half-sleep was Auralias, standing at the window, face a mask of moonlight and calculation. The mage’s hands were clasped at his back, but every so often, they moved in slow, deliberate patterns, tracing out invisible glyphs that lingered, for just a moment, in the shadows along the wall.

*

Captain Elira waited until the inn’s common room had emptied of all but the snoring and the truly sleepless. She stoked the hearth to life, then pulled on her oilskin and stepped outside for a final circuit of the perimeter. The mist had thickened, rolling up from the river in ragged layers that clung to the ground and distorted every light and sound. Above, no moon showed; even the stars were erased.

She made her round efficiently, checking each window, every door latch and bolt. The cold was deeper now, sinking past flesh and into the bone. At the back of the inn, in the wedge of shadow between outbuildings, she paused and listened. The silence was not empty, but heavy, filled with expectation, like the moment before a duel.

It was then she saw the watcher.

A figure at the side of the orchard, a good thirty yards off, where the line of trees met the remains of a split-rail fence. A hooded cloak, pale in the mist, motionless except for the faintest stirring as the fog eddied around it. Elira’s hand went to her sword; she let her eyes adjust, waited for the trick to reveal itself, but the silhouette remained.

I am a new author writing under the pen name Orlan Drake, my real name is Chris Hills Farrow.  I’ve worked as a freelance writer for magazines in the past but have always wanted to write fiction, and after having more free time during the lockdowns, I have made some progress. I enjoy fantasy because it opens my mind to other worlds or ways of life that do not exist in real life, or have ever existed.

 

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In the heart of two cities divided by rivalries, it unveils a compelling narrative of passion, ambition, and transformation.

 James, a steadfast leader striving for progress, faces the complex dynamics of a changing world as he partners with Evelleyne, a boss from a rival gang. Against an ongoing feud between the Northside Ryders and the River Syndicates, a symbol of new possibilities, the characters embark on a journey of self-discovery, secrets, adoration, and resilience. The flames of change burn brightly, forging alliances, shattering expectations, and ultimately illuminating the path to redemption.

Prepare for a tale of love, loyalty, and redemption set against conflict and transformation. As the characters navigate the complexities of their choices, the story explores the resilience of the human spirit and the indomitable power of love to endure even in the darkest times.

“The perfect enemies-to-lovers novel with Romeo and Juliet vibes. Gritty, emotional and utterly unputdownable!”

“Evelyne and James’ love story was beautifully made. I was torn apart by the tragic ending.”

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Where are you, baby? You know I hate waiting,” says Evelleyne, her breath briefly fogging the reflected outline of her bare shoulder on her phone’s screen.”

“I just got out of the shower. Give me about fifteen minutes, and I’ll be there,” said James.

“You could have waited on the shower, baby. You’ll be hot and sweaty as soon as I let you in the door.”

“Is that so? Well, let me hurry up then. Sounds like I’m going to have my work cut out for me tonight.”

“You have no idea.”

“Let me finish here. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Okay, baby. Be careful. No speeding tickets this time.”

“I can’t make any promises. You know I can’t wait to get to you, girl.”

“I know, baby, but I’m not going anywhere, so there’s no need to rush. Just know your girl is waiting on you—with nothing on.”

“See, that’s what makes me break the law getting to your house.”

Evelleyne laughs. “You’re so cute when you’re possessive.”

“Yeah, and I’m the luckiest man alive to have you in my life. I’m gone; see you in a few.”

“Okay, baby.”

Evelleyne sits on the window ledge, gazing out into the night. The moon is high, and its white light glistens on her voluptuous, tanned body. Her heart beats faster, and she can barely catch her breath as she tightens the grip on her cell phone.

James is rushing down the steps, ready to see his beloved. He hears a soft, shaky voice as he’s about to hit the “end call” button on his cell phone.

“I love you, James,” says Evelleyne.

“I’ll see you soon,” he shyly responds.

Evelleyne gazed at the night sky, and a tear rolled down her cheek. She knows James loves her, but he won’t say it—he’s proved that. Still, she wants to hear it from his lips.

James hopped in his Chrysler 300. Though excited to see Evelleyne, he’s nervous before starting the car. His mind drifted through the chapters of his life, a journey marked by unexpected turns and profound transformations.

He thought back to the days when he rose through the ranks, becoming an underboss for the Northside Ryders. The choices, alliances forged, and conflicts navigated shaped him into a formidable figure in the city’s underworld.

Meeting Evelleyne was a turning point. Her strength, resilience, and unwavering spirit drew him in. Love blossomed amidst the chaos, a beacon of light in the shadows of their tumultuous world. Together, they dared to dream of a different future.

 

Alicia Rice is a multi-genre author, leadership development strategist, and speaker whose work explores power, choice, resilience, and the human condition. She is the author of several compelling titles, including Historian of the Wasteland, a gripping dystopian series that challenges readers to examine what survives when systems collapse — and what should.

By day, Alicia serves as a Learning & Development leader, designing leadership programs that empower emerging and senior leaders to lead with courage, justice, and accountability. By night, she writes stories that explore generational trauma, moral conflict, and the quiet strength of those history often overlooks. Her work is deeply influenced by her grandmother’s encouragement, who nurtured her love of storytelling from a young age and instilled in her the belief that her voice mattered.

When she’s not writing or mentoring, Alicia is either gaming or building platforms that connect authors, leaders, and lifelong learners through purpose-driven dialogue

 

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A Sunrise in Rio

by Rachel Matthews

Genre: Cozy Fake Dating Vacation Romance 

A cold playboy in need of a fiancee.

A sweet photographer in need of a job.

A proposal that would last a lifetime.

Eric Jansen was aware of his reputation. As a stoic widower with a mysterious past, work was his only solace…until his investors threaten to end the deal. With a new luxury hotel and housing development for underprivileged families on the line in scenic Rio de Janeiro, the beautiful new photographer, Jayla Mitchelson, is perfect for the job. She may also be the perfect woman to claim his heart.

 

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    Jayla stared at him, stunned. “Did you just say fiancée? As in…engaged?” The word echoed in her mind, making her frown as if she hadn’t heard it right. “I thought you needed a date.” 

Eric slipped a hand into his pocket. “It’s a bit more complicated than that. Our potential investor values traditional family structures. He believes an engagement would, let’s say, enhance our credibility.”

Jayla’s shock turned into something sharper. Oh, so her photography skills didn’t matter? Was she just supposed to play dress-up and pretend to be in love with Mr. Perfect? “You can’t be serious.”

Eric watched her pace. “It would help me greatly.”

“For your little charade?” Jayla’s voice grew louder. “Is that why you hired me? To be nothing more than your arm candy?”

Eric closed his eyes a moment before he shook his head. “No, Jayla, it’s not like that.”

She stopped pacing, arms crossed. “Then why bring me down here? Why go through this phony interview process, checking out my site and bringing me–” She gasped. “Is that why you took me to breakfast? The sightseeing? Was that part of softening me up?”

“Jayla—”

She glanced back at the huge building. “If I say no, are you going to, what, chop me up and hide me in the building?” She began rummaging through her camera bag. “Look, buddy. I got Mace, and I will not hesitate to use it. I don’t care how many yachts you own.”

Eric froze mid-step toward her, then covered his mouth. His shoulders started shaking, and before Jayla could react, he doubled over, laughing uncontrollably.

“What—” Jayla’s indignation mixed with confusion. “What is so funny?”

He couldn’t even answer, leaning against a nearby lamppost for support as he laughed.

Jayla watched him, arms crossed, trying to maintain her anger. 

But as Eric continued laughing with his eyes sparkling with tears, something shifted inside her. This wasn’t the composed CEO showing off his engaging smile. This was just Eric. Just a man finding genuine humor in her conspiracy theory.

“Oh, Jayla.” He finally managed to stop laughing, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “I’m sorry, but that was not the reaction I was expecting.”

She raised her hands, still stunned. “Well, what exactly were you expecting, Eric? You bring me out here, make this grand gesture, and then—”

“It sounds insane, I know,” he interrupted. “But hear me out. This deal is critical to my company. And I need someone who isn’t part of the usual circle, someone who won’t leak it to the press or get too involved. Someone I can trust to keep their distance while we manage these investors.” He watched her for a moment. “And when it’s done, we go our separate ways. But in the meantime,” his tone shifted slightly, “since we’ll be working together for the next few months, why not…”

He let the sentence linger.

“I’ll pay you twenty-five thousand dollars per workday. Seem reasonable?”

Her mouth fell open. Had she heard him right? Twenty-five thousand per day?

“Eric, I—”

“Think about it,” he said quickly, holding up a hand. “Don’t answer yet. Sleep on it. I know it’s a lot to process, but honestly, Jayla, it would mean a great deal to me… to us both. We wouldn’t have to see each other outside of a set plan, anyway. The meetings, the photo opportunities, that’s it. Your time is your own.”

Jayla nodded slowly. She didn’t even want to think of what Donna would say if she mentioned this. It sounded crazy. And the crazier fact was… she started considering it.

“I’ll think about it.”

Author of clean, cozy reads about love and romance, Rachel Matthews is a wife, daughter, crocheter, artist, and dreamer all rolled into one. She’s dreamed of writing ever since she was little and now enjoys penning them for readers all around the world. Part mermaid and part stuffed animal wrangler, she currently lives in San Diego where she is fighting an addiction to the beach while enjoying free time with her own romantic hero husband.

 

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“Last Bite is a deliciously layered novel that mixes humor, heart, and mystery in equal measure.” —Chicago Book Review

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             The sky was blue, it was a warm late-September afternoon, and there was no better place to be as they walked across the street from Murphy’s into the ballpark. They had the best bleacher seats. Center field, perfect view of the field, and an excellent place to grab a few home run balls, if the stars were aligned. As they approached their seats, Kim stopped. “Wait a minute. Gina, do you see what I’m seeing? It’s Peggy’s girls from the kitchen.”

Gina looked past the girls and saw something that astonished her. There was Peggy sitting next to Ben, who stood up and waved.

“Uncle Ben, what the hell?”

“Hey, Gina, it’s a long story, but we’re all here to have fun and forget about our troubles, right, Peggy?”

Peggy growled, “Why not, can’t work today, schools are closed. Ben stopped by with tickets yesterday and I figured my crew needed a break after the poisoning incident.” She sat back down, grumbled some more, and took a sip of her beer. Gina walked over and hugged Ben and sat between him and Peggy.

“I am so sorry about the poisoning,” Gina said. “Angie got it all straightened out. It wasn’t us who did it. She can bring you up to speed after the game.”

“Good to hear. Sorry I was so mean to you, but it put me behind schedule,” Peggy said. “By the way, my niece is coming out from San Francisco tomorrow, loves baseball. Maybe we can take her to a Cubs game. She’s a private investigator and has a case here. I think you’d like her. She’s a lot of fun. She bats for Kim’s team.”

“What’s her name?” Gina asked.

“Jackie Larsen, she’s one fun-loving smart cookie. Her parents disowned her when she came out, but I told her she would always have a place in my heart and home,” Peggy said, and then turned to watch the players warm up. Gina went to sit with her mom, Angie, and Kim.

“That Ralph knows how to pick good seats,” Connie said.

“Vinnie and Ralph spent many a day in the bleachers,” Gina leaned over and remarked. “They could afford the fancier seats, but they said this is where the real fans were.”

Angie bought popcorn, peanuts, and beer for the crew, toasting, “Here’s to family and the Cubs.” They all raised their beers, toasted, and yelled, “Go, Cubs!”

The Cardinals took an early lead with two home runs in the top of the second, and the Cubs answered in the bottom of the fifth and tied the score. Baseball time was different for Angie. She had learned from Vinnie to put all her cares away and soak it all in, one pitch at a time, one hit at a time, one inning at a time. Today, of all days, she was doing just that, glancing at the field and then over at her family, including Thad and Daisy, knowing they would always get through anything as long as they were together. She laughed out loud when one of the lunch gals yelled at the ump, “That was a strike! Get some glasses!”

What a motley crew, Angie thought. At the top of the sixth, one of the ushers came over to where she was sitting. “Is there an Angie Sortino here?”

They all looked up. “Who wants to know?” Angie asked.

“We have a very special surprise for Angie. Are you Angie?”

“Depends. You’re not from the mayor’s office, are you?” Angie asked.

“No, I work for the Cubs.”

“Okay then, I’m Angie. What exactly is the surprise?”

“Not at liberty to say, but if you’d please follow me, you’ll know soon enough. All I can say is it must be your lucky day.” He gestured for Angie to follow him.

“Bring her back in one piece,” Connie called after.

“No worries, she’ll be safe and sound. Enjoy the rest of the game. Go, Cubs.”

Angie followed him through the park, her mind reeling. Where is he taking me? They navigated through all the fans, kids in tow, lines of people waiting for beer and dogs.

He took her on an elevator up several floors, and she noticed a sign pointing to the press boxes. They walked past them.

“Would you please take a seat, Angie?” said the escort. “I’ll be back to get you at the start of the seventh inning.” He pointed to a small area with a live TV monitor displaying the game and several chairs. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Why not? I’ll take a beer, please.”

The young man returned with a draft beer and a bag of peanuts. “Enjoy.”

Angie sipped her beer, cracked open peanuts, and watched the rest of the sixth inning. The game was tied. Fans were yelling as the Cubs took the field at the top of the seventh. She was deeply engaged in the game when the usher interrupted her.

“How are you doing?”

“Great, but I’d like to get back to my family. Time for the seventh-inning stretch.”

“You’ll be enjoying that in just a few minutes. A friend of yours has arranged something for you. I hope you brought your best singing voice.”

Singing voice? Angie thought, as the usher led her to a door marked “Announcer” and gently knocked. What the hell?

“Come in,” came a voice from within.

The usher opened the door and Pat Hughes, the announcer for the Cubs, glanced over. “Angie, you’re going to be singing “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” with our guest celebrity.”

“What! Are you kidding me? Oh my God! This is a dream come true!”

“Come on in. We’re on in a few minutes.”

Angie stepped in and froze. There in front of her was Bill Murray—the Bill Murray, wearing his 2016 World Series T-shirt and hat, holding a microphone. “Hey, Angie. Nice to meet you. I was a friend of Vinnie’s—so sorry he’s gone.” He reached over

and gave her a warm embrace, saying, “He was a hell of a man, and there was no better Cubs fan.”

Angie was having an out-of-body experience, thoughts flooding through her mind. Is this real? How did this happen? I’m with Bill Murray.

Bill brought her right up front—where you could see the entire field—and handed her a microphone. “I know you know the words,” he said, smiling.

The Cubs announcer broke in, “And today we have our very own Bill Murray with a special guest, Angie Sortino, singing “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.”

Bill jumped in, “A one—A two.” He glanced over at Angie and they both started singing.

“Take me out to the ball game. Take me out with the crowd. Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack. I don’t care if I never get back!”

Angie gave it all she had, joy erupting from within her. She caught sight of her and Bill on the Jumbotron. As the camera scanned the crowd, everyone got up and sang, arm in arm. “So it’s root, root, root for the Cubbies . . .” The song ended, the crowd went wild, and Angie hugged Bill, smiling ear to ear.

“This was truly a dream come true.” She pointed at him with both of her index fingers. “Bill Murray. I sang with Bill Murray!”

Bill gave her a departing hug. “Take care, Angie. So nice to meet you after hearing about you from Vinnie for so many years.That man sure loved you.”

Amy S Peele was born and raised in the Chicago area, and now lives in Marin County in California. Having spent thirty five years working in the field of organ transplantation, she brings a fresh, knowledgable, and humorous new voice into the world of mystery novels.

In addition to killing people in her murder mysteries, she enjoys meditating, teaching yoga, swimming, and pursuing her spirituality by studying the teachings of Deepak Chopra. Amy invites you to her website http://www.amyspeele.com to learn more about her.

 

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✔ Fake dating
✔ Brother’s best friend
✔ Sweet and emotional romance
✔ No cheating
✔ Slow-burn tension
✔ Guaranteed HEA
✔ Perfect for fans of Hallmark-style romance with a sporty twist

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Alexa Fauli is a devoted sports romance author whose passion for the Atlanta Braves and love of hockey inspire her vibrant stories of competition and connection. When she’s not dreaming up unforgettable characters who play hard for both love and victory, Alexa enjoys sipping toasted white mochas, watching anime romances, and cherishing time with her family. Her life is a delightful blend of heart, heat, and the magic that happens both on and off the page.

 

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Red Queen, Yellow King

The Book of Alice #1

by Jack Finn

Genre: Dark Epic Fantasy, Alice in Wonderland Retelling

This is book #1 of The Book of Alice duology.

Wonderland has fallen. And something older than kings has taken its place.

Alice returns to consciousness in a ruined palace, her body broken, her mind fractured, her sister enslaved by a queen who wears a crown of thorns and a smile of knives. The Looking Glass is shattered. The Hatter has turned. The White Queen is dead.

But beyond the bloody thrones and broken teacups lies something even stranger—an echo of a play that should never be performed, whispered by a masked god in yellow.

To save what little remains, Alice must navigate a sea of madness, hunt down a missing monarch, and confront the truth behind her own unraveling story.

Some fairy tales end in fire. Others in silence.

  

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The Red Queen played the long game. She murdered the White Queen and spared Alice, Ava, Hatter, and Lady Cheshire the purge that followed; even Tinker was allowed to live just long enough to complete his devices for the journey. Holding Ava and the Cheshire girls hostage, even releasing the giants, was all part of a plan the Red Queen had mapped out in her mind well in advance. She wanted the Azure Queen dead and the Red King back. Now all her pieces were in play on the chessboard.

Like every game, chess had rules.

Alice never played by the rules.

She would make her own rules.

She would beat the Red Queen at her own game.

Alice doing Alice things.

Jack Finn is a horror author and active Horror Writers Association member living in the wilds of the Pacific Northwest with his wife and two fiendishly clever dogs. He is a lifelong believer that the Tooth Fairy proves you can trade body parts for cold, hard cash.

His books by the include, The Wolves of Kalinin werewolf duology: Prey Upon the Lambs (Anuci Press 2025) and The Desolation of Hunters (Anuci Press 2025); the horror collection They Come When You Sleep (Velox Books 2025), a re-envisioning of the Dracula mythos in the standalone novel The Seven Deaths of Prince Vlad (Anuci Press 2024), and the folk horror collection, Legend of the Deer Woman (Crow Street Press, 2023).

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Twins Tabitha and Timothy leave London for a wild Shetland island — no Wi-Fi, no friends, and a mysterious great-uncle. In Papala, they discover a new way of life, unexpected friendships, and courage they never knew they had.

A fun, eco-conscious story for ages 9–12 that the whole family will love.

When their parents sail the world without them, 12-year-old twins Tabitha and Timothy are sent to the remote island of Papala, known as the “Bird Island.” Great Uncle Tamhas becomes their guardian in a world as strange as the island itself.

Tabitha is frustrated with the island’s isolation and limited Wi-Fi, but Timothy is delighted to uncover the island’s natural secrets. The twins soon realise however, they are not the only newcomers to the island.

Discover a story about courage, friendship and the joy of embracing the unfamiliar. Dive into a different world, where nature and friendship are full of surprises.

You’ll love this story of courage and friendship. Buy now before the price changes!

Check out: https: //www.sjbstories.com to know more!

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S. J. Barratt is a self-published, professionally edited children’s author whose eco-themed stories celebrate the connection between people and the natural world. Rooted in an English countryside upbringing and shaped by a career in agriculture, she blends a gardener’s curiosity with a storyteller’s warmth to her writing. Now based in Lyon, France, Suzanne creates tales that inspire middle-grade readers to swap screen time for green time—and rediscover the wonders waiting just outside their door.

 

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A former BBC broadcaster and journalist, Gill Mills brings over 20 years of experience in entertainment to her narration. Known for her warm, resonant voice, she began her voice career while DJing on BBC Radio 1 and has since voiced numerous TV and audio productions. She now runs a content company specialising in podcast and film production from her studio in East London.

 

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A Hundred Black Sunrises

A Friday the 13th Story

by Tamela Miles

Genre: Dark Paranormal Romance

A hundred different ways to break your heart, a hundred different ways to take your last breath. Sienna and Finn are exploring their strange attraction to each other until strange becomes something sinister. The clock is ticking as they fight to unravel the mystery of what draws them together on fateful Friday, the 13th.

 

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Tamela Miles is a California State University San Bernardino graduate student with a Bachelor of Science degree in Child Development and a former flight attendant. She grew up in Altadena, California in that tumultuous time known as the 1980s. She now resides with her family in the Inland Empire, CA. She’s a horror/paranormal romance writer mainly because it feels so good having her characters do bad things and, later, pondering what makes them so bad and why they can never seem to change their wicked ways.

She enjoys emails from people who like her work. In fact, she loves emails. She can be contacted at tamelamiles@yahoo.com or her Facebook page, Tamela Miles Books. She also welcomes reader reviews and enjoys the feedback from people who love to read as much as she does.

 

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Absolute Love Publishing

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My parents and my sister were preparing for a trip to Boston. My mother was to receive an award at an event. I was not to attend, so I was staying with my grandparents in Northern Michigan. On a hot and sticky Monday night, a tornado struck and severely damaged our home at 1:30 a.m.

My sister does not wear her hearing aids to bed which made her very difficult to awaken. Precious seconds were wasted and, as a result, my mother and sister barely avoided harm. They just made it to the basement stairway as the tornado struck. Where they had been standing literally one second prior was destroyed. One second could have meant the difference between life and death. One second. It was overwhelming for me. I felt helpless. My whole family could have been killed and I wasn’t there to help, and when I thought about it, I couldn’t have done anything anyway.

Candace Gish is a connector, mentor, and the visionary founder of the Divas That Care network and global podcast. Dedicated to helping women realize their full potential, Candace uses her platform to amplify inspiring stories and facilitate life-changing connections. She has expanded this impact through the Young Divas initiative, empowering the next generation of female leaders to lead with purpose and confidence.

A tireless advocate for collaborative mentorship, Candace believes that when women of all ages converge, they create an unstoppable ripple effect of change. Her mission is deeply personal, fueled by the daily inspiration of her husband and her four daughters.

 

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Hard to Bear

Law of the Wild Book 1

by J. Ashburn

Genre: M/M Paranormal Romance, Urban Fantasy

Sheriff. Tribesman. Werebear.
Everything Ben knows about love and life is about to change.

His name’s Ben Kodiak. He’s a werebear but not your typical one. First off, he’s into dudes and loves to hang with other bears, of the big and burly kind. Deal with it. Second, he has a job to do, and doesn’t have time for twinks or players. He’s the guy who makes sure no werebear hurts a human in the wild and vice versa. He enforces the law of his tribes and investigates any transgressions. If a shifter gets a little rowdy they get to deal with him.

It was business as usual until the attack happened. This time on one of Ben’s own kind. Not the kind of thing he’s used to. Who in their right mind would mess with a werebear? It was his job to find out and that was going to be really hard, because the new human ranger assigned to the forest is a complete distraction and he has set Ben’s heart on fire.

But something just isn’t right. There’s something off about this murder and the timing of Garret, the new ranger, is just a bit coincidental. Does he trust this man with his shifter secret and his affections or should he keep him on his list of suspects?

Find out in Hard to Bear. The Law of the Wild book 1. The new series by J. Ashburn!

 

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Sheriff Ben Kodiak stared outside of his office window and longed to frolic among the great pines and the thick underbrush or wade in the mountain streams and run through fields of wildflowers. 

He sighed and pulled himself back to his paperwork. No one ever said it would be easy to be the law keeper between werebears and humans. Luckily for him it never really got too out of hand… a drunk werebear once in a while or a love triangle between bears and humans that should never have started in the first place. But those were stories for another time.

Most of the humans that lived up in the Pinecrest Mountains had no idea there was a population of werebears living among them…or that there were several clans of them. And as long as Ben was on the job they never would. Most of the werebears were mistaken for Sasquatch sightings and he got more than a few reports, even some fuzzy photos, of a bear in mid-transformation, ducking into the thick forest trees. That was fine with Ben. He even had a hand in letting those reports flourish… it took the attention off the real tribes that roamed the forest. 

As the unofficial peacekeeper between humans and werebears and between each of the bear clans, Ben had his hands, or paws quite full. He was a werebear himself, from one of the oldest tribes on the mountains. The Village of Briar River was the home of his people and where his office was located, on the outskirts between town lines. Most human inhabitants thought of the werebear villages or towns as Native American reservations and that was fine with him. That way they would normally just visit or pass through instead of trying to buy property in Briar River or Bramble Point, and instead made their homes in the human town of Coldbrook further down the mountains.  

Still, the Pinecrest Mountains were a very popular hiking and camping destination for everyone, outsiders included, and it was tough work keeping everything balanced. Luckily the forest rangers worked closely with Ben and had become close friends. He just saw one of them ride by in a Jeep through his window on their way to the trailheads. That’s what Ben wished he was doing, heading for a hike in the many trails, but duty called. 

There had been a small fight, a slight altercation really, in the werebear bar in Briar River’s town center last night. A human stranger had a little too much and picked a fight with one of the local werebears. Luckily for the stranger, Buck Halberd kept his cool and didn’t put him through a wall. Still, the drunken human stumbled out of the bar and fled down the road just before closing time. 

Ben needed to head over to the bar and get a statement and description. If the human was still in the area he could be in some trouble or causing some trouble. Either way, those were two scenarios Ben would rather not see play out. Time to get his ass into gear.

 

Bear With Me

Law of the Wild Book 2

The romance and adventure continue in Book 2 of J. Ashburn’s Law of the Wild Series.

 

Winter in the Forest Mountains.

Sheriff Ben Kodiak and his new love, Garrett, hunker down to enjoy a long, enchanting winter nestled in the warmth of each other until their bliss is once again interrupted by mysterious new murders.

Ben’s people, his werebear tribe, sleep in hibernation except for Lily, the new shaman. Visions and dreams wake and haunt her: danger, killings–something monstrous is coming and the only person she can turn to is Ben.

After the events of the previous spring, Ben thought things would return to normal in the quiet forest towns of the mountaintops. He was wrong. He will need all of his shifter powers and resourcefulness to brace for what’s coming, for not only does it threaten the love of his life, his people and his town but the entire world.

 

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J. Ashburn is your source for exciting, sensual gay paranormal fiction featuring unique stories, magical characters and wild settings. Werewolves, witches, polymorphs, psychic warriors, phantoms, creatures of the night and more dominate the worlds of J. Ashburn. Follow the paths of romance and the supernatural entwined with hearts and minds of men who love men.

You won’t want to miss a single moment of the secret lives of handsome, smoldering characters and the writer who weaves their tales. Pull back the veil and gaze upon the men of J. Ashburn!

 

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All Or None

A Detective Ryan Mystery #2

Returning to Sydney, Detective Ramesh Ryan is promoted to the Homicide Squad. Zoe Yang joins him there. Now a detective herself, she is assigned as his junior partner. Straight up, the cops are off and running-investigating the discovery of a murdered company director. Following the clues, Detective Ryan finds that this and a second murder may be linked to past events.

As the pressure mounts for a quick solution to the case, the detective finds that he too, is in the killer’s crosshairs. But Ryan is distracted from the investigation by a romantic encounter with an old university friend. He also worries about his mother, Mumta, and her new obsessive desire for grandchildren from her only son. Could this be linked to her recent medical tests? And there’s another pressing problem-the plague of rats in his apartment block.

Detective Ryan’s hands are well and truly full!

 

Praise For ALL OR NONE

A riveting read. Anyone who likes mystery and crime, you won’t be able to put this down. Thought it was an elegant continuation of this universe. – Carolina R, Amazon Reviewer

I really enjoyed this book. I love it when you keep changing your mind about who did it to find out at the end that you’re still wrong. – Nancy F., Goodreads Reviewer

 

All or None exceeded my expectations. The murders kept me guessing, but what I loved most was Ryan himself tough on the outside, vulnerable on the inside, and surrounded by challenges that made him relatable. – Mary M., Goodreads Reviewer

 

I devoured this ARC in two sittings. The tension builds perfectly, and the clues are woven in so well that you feel like you’re investigating alongside Ryan and Zoe. The personal subplots (his mom, the romance, even the rats!) add depth without slowing down the action. – Minor C, Goodreads Reviewer

 

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Clive Fleury is an award-winning writer of books and screenplays and has worked all over the world as a Film/TV director, writer and producer. He has written six books, most recently ‘All Or None’, the second novel in the Detective Ryan Murder Mystery series.

 

‘All Or None’ sees Detective Ryan back in the thick of things. His latest investigation into a mysterious death couldn’t come at a worse time. He discovers his mother is hiding a troubling secret and is further sidetracked by a new romance. Fans of who dunnit’s, crime thrillers, and cop and detective stories will love this novel. 

 

Clive’s other books include ‘Off Season’ – book one in the Detective Ryan Murder Mystery series; ‘Kill Code’ – a dystopian science fiction novel set in a world facing climate change;  ‘Scary Lizzy’  – a novel about an eight year old girl, who befriends an African child ghost –  and the teen action adventure book; ‘The Boy Next Door ‘ –  a story of what happens when a teenage girl has a crush on her next door neighbor, who isn’t all he seems.  He also co-wrote ‘Art Pengriffin and The Curse of The Four’ – a young adult fantasy adventure about a teenage boy who discovers his father was Merlin the Magician.

 

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Rissa Parker struggles to support herself and her daughter by working overnights as a home health nurse. After witnessing her employer’s murder, she has no choice but to grab her two-year-old and run toward the one person strong enough to protect them, the Navy SEAL who fathered her child during a one-night stand.

Navy SEAL Bernard “Burn” Cruz is a straight arrow, approaching work and play in equal parts. He doesn’t regret much in life, except for one woman he’s never forgotten. Nearly three years after their initial encounter, she shows up in San Diego at the bar his team likes to frequent, and he believes Forever might have knocked on his door. Until a child cries, and all hell breaks loose.

As bullets fly and bodies drop, Rissa must outrun a killer whose connection to her past threatens to destroy any chance at a future with the father of her child, and Burn discovers the family he didn’t know he wanted might be the only thing worth dying for.

Baby ConSEALed, an award-winning contemporary romantic suspense novel, is fast-paced, steamy and suspenseful. Pick up your copy today!

“A tightly plotted, fast-paced whirlwind of a ride fraught with secrets, danger, and an emotional love story that focuses on family—the kind you choose.” —Lena Diaz, Publishers Weekly best-selling author

**Releasing March 26 – PreOrder Now!**

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 “A Cosmopolitan, please.” After this, she’d call it a night. Get a cab back to Liesel’s place. Maybe read a few chapters of a book. Wild and crazy. That’s me.

She took a sip of the drink the bartender delivered, letting the tart cranberry linger on her tongue as she watched the television mounted above the bar. A bowling tournament played, of all things, the announcer droning on about a perfect strike. A man slid between her stool and the next one, close enough that the heat of his body radiated toward her.

“Sorry to crowd you.” His voice was deep, smooth, and impossibly calm despite the chaos of the crowd around them.

She turned—and nearly forgot how to breathe.

He was tall and built like he actually used his gym membership. His dark skin contrasted against the crisp blue of his button-down, and when he tilted his head, the light caught his short black curls. But it was his eyes that stole her attention, a golden shade, piercing yet unreadable.

For a moment, she thought he might be about to hit on her, but he only raised a hand, signaling to the bartender. Of course, he wasn’t interested in her. She needed to finish her drink and go back to the apartment. Rissa gulped down a large swallow and barely managed not to cough.

“Patrick. Beer for me and one of those for the lady.”

She blinked. “You’re buying me a drink?”

Amusement flickered in those striking eyes. “Only if you want it.” He wedged himself farther into the space, turning sideways to fit, with one elbow propped on the bar and his free hand tucked in his pocket.

She absently swirled a finger through the condensation on her mostly empty glass. One more drink might be too much. “I think I want a soda,” she said.

He gave a slight nod of approval and called out the order to the bartender. While he did, she took the chance to study him more closely. The sharp angles of his face, the short-cropped hair, and the faintest hint of a scar cutting through his left eyebrow.

“The golden color of your eyes reminds me of a stray cat I sometimes feed near my apartment. I mean, they’re nice,” she added quickly, when she realized that may have sounded a little weird. “Not that I’m calling you a cat.”

He chuckled, a low, rich sound. “I’ve been called worse.”

She glanced down at her glass, unsure what to say next.

“You here alone?” he asked.

“No. My friend is over there.” She motioned toward Liesel, who was dancing with a guy who looked like he belonged on a recruitment poster.

His gaze followed hers, and something flickered in his expression. “The guy she’s dancing with is from my SEAL team.”

Rissa’s stomach dropped at his words. “You’re a Navy SEAL?” He was so far out of her league.

“Nine years.” His eyes locked on her, and he seemed to be waiting for her to comment.

She didn’t know much about military ranks, but the way he carried himself suggested he wasn’t just some guy on weekend leave. “I’ve seen that TV show, Navy SEAL, but I don’t know anyone in the military.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “You do now.”

 

Leah Miles writes romance and paranormal fiction from her small-town in South Georgia, where she lives with her husband and cocker spaniel while running an insurance agency and Airbnb business.

After a dozen years in news production at CNN, Leah Miles now manages an insurance agency and an Airbnb business in rural Georgia, while writing romantic suspense and paranormal romance featuring take-charge heroes and fierce heroines.

 

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This book club dives (literally!) into the pages of a cozy mystery. The quirky group must solve the mystery to get out of the book. It’s so much fun – you’ll wish you had a book club like this!

In this journey, they choose a book set in a lovely riverside town. They land in a charming neighborhood and find they are part of a local book club. They are having a great time – and then a dead body shows up. (Of course it does!)

The clues to what happened come to them in a unique way – via the critters in the house.

As usual, the club finds plenty of time to enjoy the unique setting of their journey, as they solve the mystery – one critter at a time.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~


This book is part of a magical cozy mystery series of 11 books and growing.

Each book can be read as a standalone, but are much more fun in order.

Available in eBook, paperback, Kindle Unlimited, and audiobook.

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Chapter 1

  

“Hey!” Frank shouted the word as he landed with a thump on the deck right in front of me.

“Ack!” I jumped and grabbed the pillow beside me for protection. I nearly fell off the porch swing. “Don’t do that!”

Frank snickered. His tail flicked back and forth and his ears twitched.

“You startled me!”

“Really? It was so hard to tell.” He snorted with laughter.

I peeked from behind the pillow and shook a finger at him. “Bad cat!”

That just made him laugh harder. He rolled over on his back and waved his paws in the air.

He looked so silly that I relaxed and began to laugh, too.

“Good morning to you,” I said, as I smoothed out the pillow that had been my so-called protection.

Frank finally caught his breath and sat up. “What’cha doing out here all alone, Paige-o-roonie?”

“I was having a quiet, reflective morning. Did you catch the definitive word there? I ‘was’ having a quiet morning.”

“Are you implying that I interrupted you?”

“Not implying. Stating a fact.”

“For good reason.” He chuckled. “I see you have some coffee there.” He pointed his nose at my cup. “Want to go get this kitty a bowlful?” He crossed his front feet, tipped his head to the side and widened his eyes. Then to up his cuteness quotient, he batted his lashes. “Please?”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” I laughed, getting up from the swing. “I’ll be right back.”

I went into the kitchen to exchange my coffee for a cup of tea. Frank had jump started my heart, so I didn’t need any more caffeine. I fixed Frank a bowl of his favorite morning beverage: half-coffee, half-creamer. Any normal cat would be sick from the brew, but our magical library cat was not anything resembling normal.

The house was quiet as I grabbed our drinks and returned to the porch. I set Frank’s bowl on the table and sat on the swing. I took a big sip from my cup.

Frank took a leap over to the table and inhaled the aroma wafting from his bowl. He slurped greedily then gave a moan of delight. He tipped his head at me. “What were these reflective thoughts that I interrupted?”

I tapped a finger to my lips in thought, and glanced at my book, which lay quietly on the table beside me. For once, I didn’t have my nose in a cozy mystery. Instead, I had been rocking back and forth on the porch swing, enjoying the sounds of the birds and the quiet whisper of the wind through the trees as I had let my mind wander, until Frank had disrupted me.

“I’d been cycling through many topics, one after the other.”

“Maybe you were clearing your mind’s way for the upcoming new book adventure?”

“That’s probably true. Once we get inside a book, I won’t have time to ponder anything but the mystery we need to solve.”

 

Don’t miss the rest of the series!

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Join Elizabeth’s mailing list and get a free book from her Magical Cozy Mystery Book Club series! https://elizabethpantleyauthor.com/mailing-list

Elizabeth Pantley is a bestselling author of fiction and non-fiction books. She writes two well-loved cozy mystery series: The Magical Mystery Book Club, and the Destiny Falls Mystery and Magic series. She has also written the international bestselling No-Cry Solution parenting book series that is available in over twenty languages.

Elizabeth lives in the majestic Pacific Northwest and spends winters in the sunny desert of Arizona. While neither location is home to any paranormal beings (that she knows of) the vastly different yet equally lovely locations are the inspiration for the settings in many of her books.

 

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The Cyber Case Series Book 2

A mysterious virus infiltrates New York City’s bridge and tunnel systems. Enter cyber security agent Persephone “Seph” Carano. She knows it’s only the beginning. A single command from a hacker could trigger its havoc and paralyze the city.

Enter Dante: a suave, enigmatic hacker with a shadowy past and a dangerous charm. He offers Seph tantalizing clues if she’ll meet with him. He warns her of a coordinated cyber‑attack set to cripple the city’s infrastructure and sabotage the mayor’s reelection. But is Dante an ally…or a player in the game?

As traffic lights flicker, subways stall, and chaos looms, Seph races against time tracing the attacks to their source. She must decide: is Dante’s loyalty with her, or with those in the shadows.

A reporter’s story exposes a deeper conspiracy, leading Seph to the ruthless company pulling the strings behind the attack. Cyber Case Dante is a pulse‑pounding cyber thriller where every keystroke could bring a city to its knees.

 

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Here we find  cyber agent Seph Carano, the series’ main character, meeting with an informant who calls himself Dante who claims to have information for her about an impending cyber attack.

 

The Grey Dog was a block off Seventh Avenue and only a short walk from Seph’s office. It was the first breakfast place she had discovered when she began working at the Cyber Security Agency. She remembered lively crowds lining up outside the bustling storefront, drawn by the promise of a hot, comforting breakfast to start their day. Some folks had stood patiently in the queue, scrolling through their phones or chatting with friends, while others bounced on their feet with the aroma of bacon making their mouths water. Online ordering had changed the scene. Now customers ordered in advance using the Grey Dog’s app, so when they arrived, their meals were waiting for them. They grabbed the bags labeled with their names and were gone in a flash. There were no more lines, but the constant flow of cheerful patrons in and out of the shop had created a festive atmosphere. Seph had texted ahead, so her latte and egg and cheese croissant were bagged up when she reached the counter. She found a table at the rear of the room where she could watch for Dante. She split the crescent and neatly wrapped the larger piece to save for lunch.

Seph had finished the croissant, refilled her latte, and was debating ordering a fruit cup when Dante arrived. Again, he was dressed like a fashion icon, this time in tan slacks, a navy blazer, and a powder blue shirt. Why would a cyber-hacker even have such stylish apparel? At the counter he ordered chorizo hash, glimpsed Seph at the back of the room and smiled. She resisted commenting on his appearance when he came to the table and said brusquely, “I’m eager to hear what you have to tell me that couldn’t be said on the phone.”

Feigning wounded feelings, Dante responded, “You’re a bit testy this morning. Have I offended you? You know I’m a friend, don’t you?”

“All I know for certain is you once kept a town’s water supply from being contaminated by closing a valve on an oil pipeline.”

Dante’s smile broadened. “Ah, so you’ve been looking into my past. My involvement with the pipeline was the act of a young lad, but it proves I’m a good guy, doesn’t it?”

“I need more than a single instance to make a judgment.”

 “What else have you discovered about me?”

“Very little, except you’re discreet enough to avoid the limelight.”

“True, but if there’s something you’d like to know about me, just ask. I’ll share almost anything…almost anything.”

A server came to the table with Dante’s breakfast platter. Seph declined when the server asked if she wanted her latte refilled again. Hoping to catch Dante off guard, Seph waited until he’d taken a bite before asking, “What’s your real name?”

Her ruse failed. Dante finished chewing, then replied calmly, “I’m willing to share general information, but my name is too specific.”

Wanting to avoid wordplay, Seph snapped, “I agreed to meet because you claimed to have urgent information. What is it?”

“I’ll tell you after I’ve eaten because if I tell you now, you’ll leave. I came to the restaurant of your choice, expecting we could enjoy a meal together. Even though you’ve finished eating, grant me the pleasure of your company while I savor the Grey Dog breakfast special.”

Seph groused, “You’re insufferable.”

Dante said, “Most confidential informants expect to be paid for their information. All I’m asking for is pleasant company.”

“You fancy yourself a confidential informant? Where do you get your information? We have investigators who monitor the dark web constantly, and they haven’t seen any posts hinting at an attack on the Bridges and Tunnels Authority.”

“Your investigators monitor the chat rooms, but the most meaningful exchanges don’t take place in those public spaces. Serious issues are discussed in private channels accessible only by invitation.”

“And you participate in the private forums, I presume?”

“I do. I earned entry long ago, when I was a teenager.”

“We checked our database, and there’s no trace of anyone using the name Dante on the dark web more than seven years ago. Nothing from the time when you would have been a teenager.”

“I was a different person those many years ago. I became Dante when….” He searched for the right phrasing. “When I was re-born, and please don’t ask about my metamorphosis. It wasn’t a pleasant experience, not one I wish to dwell on.”

 “You expect me to trust you; yet you admit to frequenting invitation-only forums swarming with cyber criminals, you won’t tell me your real name, and you keep your past hidden. You don’t give me much of a basis for trust.”

“We have different values, Seph. For example, while I might find it acceptable, even laudable, for someone to hack into the network of a bank charging usury loan rates to poor working people, I’m sure you would call the intrusion a crime. However, I’m sure we’d both consider it intolerable for anyone to disrupt the city’s infrastructure for his own personal gain.”

Silence hung in the air for a long minute. Dante broke it, saying, “Since our last meeting, I learned Needle24 has been recruited not just to breach the Bridges and Tunnels Authority, but to stage a series of coordinated attacks. The plan isn’t fully developed yet, but it will include attacks on different parts of the city’s infrastructure. The messages I saw mentioned subways, traffic lights, ferryboats, and airports, although those are merely options under consideration. And the purpose of the attacks is to make the present city administration appear incompetent.”

Seph stared in disbelief. “Did I hear you correctly? You’re saying cyber attacks will be carried out to make the mayor and his administration look bad?” Her eyes narrowed. “Someone wants to influence the election. Who?”

“I don’t know. The person pulling the strings is keeping his identity hidden.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“I’m sure.”

“What’s the timeframe?”

“The exact date hasn’t been decided yet, but it will have to be soon—before election day.”

Cyber Case Adams

The Cyber Case Series Book 3

Cyber Case Adams plunges cyber security agent Persephone “Seph” Carano into a world where teenage rivalries spiral into digital warfare.

When a high school art student innocently posts a painting online, it sparks a storm of harassment that leaves her broken and vulnerable. Retaliation in the form of a dangerous hack, exposes a private trauma that shatters the school’s star athlete. What begins as petty cruelty escalates into cybercrime with devastating consequences.

Now Seph has to untangle the web of lies, betrayal, and digital trespass. With sharp instincts and a daring honeytrap, she must track down the culprits before more lives are destroyed.

A gripping cyber thriller that blends human drama with high-stakes investigation, Cyber Case Adams reveals how a single post can ignite chaos—and how justice must adapt in the digital age.

**NEW RELEASE 2/26!** 

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Ken Tentarelli brings a rare fusion of engineering expertise and storytelling to his cyber-tech thrillers. His career developing encrypted communications systems and internet security standards lends authenticity to his Cyber Case series.

He established himself as an award-winning author of historical mysteries. Now, blending engineering precision with the imagination of a seasoned novelist, he is crafting stories where technology, intrigue, and human ambition collide.

 

Ken is a library advocate. He lives with his wife in central New Hampshire.

 

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The Golden Sword

The Silistra Quartet Book 2

by Janet Morris

Genre: Dystopian Epic SciFi Fantasy Romance

Dystopia. Biology shapes reality. The further adventures of the most beautiful courtesan in the galaxies of tomorrow.

She had the power to create planets. The sixty carved bones of the Yris-tera foretold her ancient fate. Her heritage of power took her beyond time and space and stole from her the one man she loved.

Enslaved on the planet Silistra tomorrow’s most beautiful courtesan unleashes the powers of the gods.

 

What readers are saying:

 

“Pure excellence…. A heroic quest of the highest calibre.” – Goodreads

 

“This is a book which makes one’s blood sing and one’s mind ponder. I loved the first in the series and enjoyed this as much, perhaps more. The ending leaves the reader desperate to know what happens to Estri next – courtesan, slave, warrior, lover, rebel. What is next for our heroine?” – Goodreads

 

“Call it what you like: science fiction, space opera, sword and planet or erotic fantasy . . . The Golden Sword is all these things, and so much more. A highly intelligent and sensual novel filled with ideas and revelations, this is a gripping story that explores human sexuality and the role it plays in politics. Although the memorable characters are bisexual, toss away all your preconceived notions, for there is a humanity, a strength of will and determination, a realism and depth of emotion to these characters that will have you thinking twice about all you know and all you think you know. This is a book for mature and discerning readers who like some meat on the bones of the books they read. Janet Morris led the way for all the science fiction authors, both male and female, who came after. “ – Joe Bonadonna, Goodreads

 

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I wondered what it meant, to be a “ten,” as the crellkeep chose a spot apparently like any other upon one chain and fastened me to it by means of heavy metal anklets that were spaced along its length.

“I put you next to Aje. You will sleep through the nights,” he informed me, as if I should be grateful for some thoughtful service. Seeing me safely bound, the two jiasks turned and left the chamber.

“What is your name?” the crellkeep asked.

I almost told him, but caught myself. It took me a moment to remember the crell name Chayin had given me.

“Miheja,” I said finally.

“Meh-he-ya,” the crellkeep corrected me gently. “The Eastmost Star’s Daughter. Suits you. So you have the dharener entranced, do you? A ten, indeed. Crell life is no burden to one so highly numbered.” He stood up, rubbing his back, “I go to get Aje. You will like him. They all do,” he said and patted my naked shoulder. Moments later I was alone in the deserted ever-dusk of the crellpits. A single torch burned at the chamber’s entry, throwing life into the feature- less rock walls.

I crawled the length of my tether, and by lying stretched out could just get my fingers upon the central ring. I tested its strength, as had countless crells before me. There was no weakness in it. I had expected none. I then examined each link of my chains with my fingers, to see if perhaps somewhere there was one unsoldered among them. There was no error among the 387 links that bound me firmly to the central ring. Its twin was sunk where the cold stone floor met the wall behind me. Perhaps there was a weakness in that area, but I had not enough tether to explore it. I lay down upon my left side and curled my knees against my chest. I could not think. I merely lay there.

High Couch of Silistra

The Silistra Quartet Book 1

Biology shapes reality…

One woman’s mythic search for self-realization in a distant tomorrow…

Her sensuality was at the core of her world, her quest beyond the civilized stars.

Aristocrat. Outcast. Picara. Slave. Ruler.

“Engrossing characters in a marvelous adventure.” – Charles N. Brown, Locus Magazine

“The amazing and erotic adventures of the most beautiful courtesan in tomorrow’s universe” – Frederik Pohl

“The best single example of prostitution used in fantasy is Janet Morris’ Silistra series… Estri’s character is most like that of Ishtar who describes herself as “‘a prostitute compassionate am I'” because she “symbolizes the creative submission to the demands of instinct, to the chaos of nature …the free woman, as opposed to the domesticated woman”. Linking Estri with these lunar and water symbols is not difficult because of the moon’s eternal virginity (the strength of integrity) links with her changeability (the prostitute’s switching of lovers). […]

Morris strengthens the moon imagery by having Estri as a well-keepress because wells, fountains, and the moon as the orb which controls water have long been associated with fertility, […] In a sense, she is like the moon because she is apparently eternal, never waxing or waning except in her pursuit of the quest; she is the prototypical wanderer like the moon and Ishtar. She is the eternal night symbol of the moon in opposition to the Day-Keepers […]

 At her majority (her three hundredth birthday), she is given a silver-cubed hologram letter from her mother, containing a videotape of her conception by the savage bronzed barbarian god from another world. […] If Estri’s mother then acts as a bawd, willing her lineage as Well-Keepress to her daughter, then Estri’s great-grandmother Astria as foundress of the Well becomes a further mother-bawd figure when she offers her prophetic advice in her letter: “Guard Astria for you may lose it, and more. Beware of one who is not as he seems. Stray not in the port city of Baniev …look well about you, for your father’s daughter’s brother seeks you”. Having no brother that she knows of does not stay Estri from undertaking the heroic quest of finding her father.”

 – Anne K. Kaler, The Picara: From Hera to Fantasy Heroine

 

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I am Estri Hadrath diet Estrazi, former Well-Keepress of Astria on the planet Silistra. I have begun three times to tell this story, and three times I have been interrupted. This, then, the fourth attempt, will surely prove successful.

Perhaps you have heard of Silistra, the planet that was catalyst to the sexual revolution in the year twenty-two thousand, seven hundred and four Bipedal Federate Standard Time, or of the Silistran serums that lengthen life and restore vitality in virtually any bipedal life form, or perhaps you have at some time contracted the services of a Silistran telepath, or a precognitive, or a deep reader. It is possible that you have in your own home the scintillating, indestructible web-cloth woven by our domestic arachnids, or have seen holograms of our golachits, those intelligent builder-beetles who exude from their mouths a translucent, superhard substance called gol and create from this gol, under the guidance of the chit-guards, the formidable and resplendent structures in which we live and work.

And perhaps you have seen no web-cloth, no gol, never been ill, and are not interested in sex. If so, you may never have heard of Silistra.

I carry Silistra in my mind’s eye, here under this alien sun. In my mind alone can I look out the east window of my beloved exercise hall in Well Astria and see the sun’s rising burst upon the jewel-like towers and keeps of the Inner Well and a thousand rainbows arc and dance in the greening sky.

Best selling author Janet Morris began writing in 1976 and published more than 30 novels, many co-authored with her husband Chris Morris or others. She contributed short fiction to the shared universe fantasy series Thieves World, in which she created the Sacred Band of Stepsons, a mythical unit of ancient fighters modeled on the Sacred Band of Thebes. She created, orchestrated, and edited the Bangsian fantasy series Heroes in Hell, writing stories for the series as well as co-writing the related novel, The Little Helliad, with Chris Morris. She wrote the bestselling Silistra Quartet in the 1970s, including High Couch of Silistra, The Golden Sword, Wind from the Abyss, and The Carnelian Throne. This quartet had more than four million copies in Bantam print alone, and was translated into German, French, Italian, Russian and other languages. In the 1980s, Baen Books released a second edition of this landmark series. The third edition is the Author’s Cut edition, newly revised by the author for Perseid Press. Most of her fiction work has been in the fantasy and science fiction genres, although she has also written historical and other novels. Morris has written, contributed to, or edited several book-length works of non-fiction, as well as papers and articles on nonlethal weapons, developmental military technology and other defense and national security topics.

Janet said: ‘People often ask what book to read first. I recommend “I, the Sun” if you like ancient history; “The Sacred Band,” a novel, if you like heroic fantasy; “Lawyers in Hell” if you like historical fantasy set in hell; “Outpassage” if you like hard science fiction; “High Couch of Silistra” if you like far-future dystopian or philosophical novels. I am most enthusiastic about the definitive Perseid Press Author’s Cut editions, which I revised and expanded.’

  

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Toxic Attraction

Toxic Love Series Book 1

by Belle Ami

Genre: Dark Romantic Suspense

I knew the moment I saw her that she was mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.

Adelia Lindstrom is a rising star in the elite equestrian world, struggling to move forward after the devastating loss of her parents. When she meets billionaire banker Miles Bremen and his enigmatic twin sister, Karolin, her world takes an unexpected turn.

Miles is more than dangerous—he exudes a bold, unapologetic sensuality that pulls Adelia into uncharted territory. With him, she discovers a side of herself she never knew existed: passionate, daring, and irresistibly drawn to his magnetic allure. But behind his seductive charm lies a darkness that keeps her on edge, making her question whether surrendering to his world will set her free or destroy her.

Toxic Attraction is a steamy, edge-of-your-seat dark romance thriller that explores the intoxicating power of passion and the risks of losing control.

Tropes include: enemies to lovers, really dark romance, age gaps, obsessive anti-hero, possessive protector, morally gray hero, protective and stalking, kidnapping, forbidden love, revenge gone wrong.

Trigger Warnings: This series contains dark and mature themes, including an extremely possessive alpha hero with an “I will destroy anyone who threatens the heroine” intensity, emotional manipulation, kidnapping, and intense romantic conflict. Readers should be aware of potential triggers and are encouraged to review the detailed trigger warnings inside each book. Books 1 and 2 end in cliffhangers, but the series concludes with an HEA in Book 3.

Please note: Toxic Attraction is a revised and revamped version of The One by Belle Ami (published in 2014)

 

**Get it on sale – Kindle countdown deal Feb 3-10!!**

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Toxic Deception

Toxic Love Series Book 2

I failed her, and I’ll never forgive myself. But I’ll do whatever it takes to win her back—even if it costs me everything.

Adelia Lindstrom Bremen thought she had found her forever love in Miles Bremen. Their fiery connection gave her everything she thought she wanted, including Fallyn and Liam, their twins. But their passion burned too hot, and betrayal shattered their marriage, leaving her to rebuild her life.

When her children are abducted, Adelia turns to FBI Agent David Weiss for help. As they work together to bring her children home, David’s steady presence offers her a haven of calmness she never experienced with Miles. But Miles isn’t ready to let her go, and his bold, unrelenting desire for her reignites everything she thought she’d left behind.

Now caught between two men—one who offers safety and the other who awakens her soul—Adelia must navigate a high-stakes game where love, obsession, and danger intertwine.

Toxic Deception is a dark romance thriller that will grip you with its passion, betrayal, and heart-pounding suspense.

Tropes include enemies to lovers, really dark romance, age gaps, obsessive anti-hero, possessive protector, morally gray hero, protective and stalking, kidnapping, forbidden love, revenge gone wrong.

Trigger Warnings: This series contains dark and mature themes, including an extremely possessive alpha hero with an “I will destroy anyone who threatens the heroine” intensity, emotional manipulation, kidnapping, and intense romantic conflict. Readers should be aware of potential triggers and are encouraged to review the detailed trigger warnings inside each book. Books 1 and 2 end in cliffhangers, but the series concludes with an HEA in Book 3.

Please note: Toxic Deception is a revised and revamped version of The One and More by Belle Ami (published in 2014)

 

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Toxic Redemption

Toxic Love Series Book 3

I’ll fight for her, even if it kills me. She taught me how to love—and now I’ll prove I’m worthy of her.

Adelia Lindstrom Bremen has faced heartbreak, betrayal, and danger at every turn. Her parents’ deaths were no accident, her marriage to Miles ended in a vicious custody battle, and now she’s caught between two men—Miles, the enigmatic billionaire who awakened her deepest desires, and David, the steady force she thought she needed.

Miles has always embodied bold passion and unapologetic sensuality, but Adelia’s love has sparked something unexpected in him—a desire to change, to be the man she deserves. When Adelia becomes the target of a serial killer hunting climate scientists, Miles must confront his darkness and fight for the woman who made him believe in redemption.

As danger looms and secrets unravel, Adelia must decide if love can truly transform, or if passion and peril will consume her. Can Miles prove he’s more than the man who broke her heart? And will Adelia find the courage to trust the one who has always owned her soul?

Toxic Redemption is the electrifying conclusion to the Toxic Love series—a dark romance thriller where love is as dangerous as it is transformative.


Tropes include enemies to lovers, really dark romance, age gaps, obsessive anti-hero, possessive protector, morally gray hero, protective and stalking, kidnapping, forbidden love, revenge gone wrong.

Trigger Warnings: This series contains dark and mature themes, including an extremely possessive alpha hero with an “I will destroy anyone who threatens the heroine” intensity, emotional manipulation, kidnapping, and intense romantic conflict. Readers should be aware of potential triggers and are encouraged to review the detailed trigger warnings inside each book. Books 1 and 2 end in cliffhangers, but the series concludes with an HEA in Book 3.

Please note: Toxic Redemption is a revised and revamped version of One More Time is Not Enough by Belle Ami (published in 2016)

 

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Belle Ami writes breathtaking historical fiction, captivating historical romance, and gripping romantic thrillers. Creating unforgettable characters and crafting complex stories, Belle’s writing reflects the redemptive power of love and the strength of the human spirit.

A former Kathryn McBride scholar of Bryn Mawr College in Pennsylvania, Belle, is also a proud recipient of the RONE, RAVEN, Readers’ Favorite Award, and the Book Excellence Award.

Belle’s passions include hiking, boxing, skiing, cooking, travel, and of course, writing. She lives in Southern California with her family.

 

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JuJu Justice is a gritty suspsense drama set in the belly of the New Orleans voodoo culture, pitting a juju priestess against her dangerous childhood nemesis in a war between good and evil. This much anticipated new drama is T.E. Lane’s second novel, based on their award-winning screenplay. Fans of mystery, crime, paranormal, and action/thrillers will love this book!

Deep in the Louisiana river bottoms, the legendary “swamp witch” Mama Moo must decide who to share her juju with—the white light voodoo priestess or the black magic criminal mastermind. Her seemingly obvious choice is complicated by long-buried secrets that will determine who lives or dies.

June Mae, a white-light practitioner, faces off against her childhood nemesis, Mister—a well-connected criminal who practices the dark side of voodoo. When June’s straight-laced sister April drops into town for an unplanned visit, she quickly understands the dangerous world that June inhabits. As the sisters reconcile past traumas and reconnect, June must overcome her fears to face Mister in a voodoo battle to save their lives.  Their mentor, the “swamp witch” Mama Moo, faces a perilous choice which will determine who lives or dies.

The screenplay has won five script awards:

*Semifinalist Your Script Produced 4th Edition 2025

*Semifinalist Los Angeles International Screenplay Awards

*Official Finalist NYISA Best Feature Screenplay Award

*Second Rounder Austin Film Festival Screenplay Competition

*Quarterfinalist Manchester Film Festival

What readers are saying:

“JuJu Justice spins a tale that is both intriguing and culturally rich . . . JuJu Justice enthralls viewers with a combination of magical intrigue and Southern Gothic drama.”   – NYISA 

“JuJu Justice creates a supernatural stage filled with spirits, ghosts,murder, and deception . . . with a skillful blend of supernatural elements with deeper themes of family and responsibility.”  -Austin Film Festival

**New Release on February 17!**

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Every T.E. Lane story begins with family at its core and spirals into mystery, action, and a touch of the supernatural. It’s a place where magic always feels possible, the coincidences may not be so coincidental, and the line between reality and something more is always worth crossing.

T.E. Lane writes screenplays and fiction. A fan of action, thriller, mystery, and literary fiction, the author enjoys blending aspects of many genres into a single work, creating a unique reading experience that will keep you turning the pages. Connect with the author on social media @telane_author.

 

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The urge to giggle had everything to do with nerves and nothing to do with how he looked. No, nothing about his physique was giggle-worthy. If Neve could have crafted the perfect male specimen, he would have looked exactly like Reece. A sculpted torso that started at wide shoulders and tapered to a trim waist, like a V, above a perfectly square butt. Smooth, tan skin.

His back was to her, so she couldn’t assess the man package, but judging by the way it had felt against her in bed, he wasn’t lacking in that department either.

He came to a stop and glanced over his shoulder. “You’re staring.”

She swallowed a yelp.

A slow grin spread over his face—at least the side she could see in profile. “You know what they say. You see mine, I see yours.”

“That’s so childish!” she spluttered. “Besides, you’ve already seen it, and so have I.”

“We were five years old, Neve. I think things have changed since then.”

Details.

She brushed at something tickling her shoulder and looked up. “They have robes in here. His and hers, judging by the sizes.”

“Good because I can’t find a single stitch. Throw one out, would you?”

Hoisting herself to her feet, she slid the smaller robe from its hanger and quickly pulled it on before handing him the other one through the closet door.

“Thanks.” Fabric rustled. “As much fun as it is talking to you through a closet door, I think it’d be much easier if you came out.”

“Are you decent?”

“Always.”

She opened the door and stepped out—and tried not to laugh, especially given the seriousness of their dilemma. The robe hit him at the knees, and the sleeves were halfway up his forearms.

“We need to figure this out,” they both said at the same time.

“Maybe there are some clues in here.” Reece loped toward their adjoining doors, which stood wide open, but before she could follow, he let out a strangled sort of noise from his bedroom.

“What is it?” She hurried through the doorway.

“Found our clothes.”

His bed looked as though a herd of elephants had tap-danced on it. Scattered around said bed were various bits of his and her wedding outfits. Her panties lay in a crumpled heap beside his boxers, and her matching strapless bra hung over a chair that sat cockeyed to the desk. On the nightstand stood two empty champagne bottles, along with a half-dozen martini glasses, also empty.

She gasped and tried not to hurl.

He held up his hands. “Don’t panic.” Traipsing over to the desk, he switched on the lamp and picked up a piece of paper. A groan punched from his lungs.

“What? What is it?”

He locked gazes with her. “You can panic now.”

A mere beat passed, and she was by his side, gawking at what he held in his hands. Her already-unsettled stomach plummeted to her toes. “That’s … that’s …”

“A marriage license. Yeah.”

“It’s got to be a joke. Are those our real names?”

“Looks like.”

He plucked up what looked like a receipt and whipped his head toward her. His eyes dipped to her hand. “Holy Mother of …”

She followed his gaze, and her mouth swung open.

He pointed at her hand. “That is not fake.”

On her left ring finger was a big-ass diamond and a matching band.

Now she darted her eyes to his left hand. “Uh, you seem to be wearing what looks like the man version of mine. These must be fake! Right?”

“Don’t think so.” He held up the receipt.

She covered her mouth to hold back a choked cry. “Is that a six? With four zeros after it?”

“No, that’s an eight.” He rubbed his forehead with his free hand. “Damn! I bought these!”

She inspected the ring, which was almost too big for her small finger. “It is beautiful.”

“I have great taste. Did you have a say in it, or did I just … buy it?”

She blinked. “You’re asking me?”

“You were there, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, I was there, but I was as drunk as you, and everything’s a black hole.”

Dear God, what had they done?

 **Don’t miss the rest of the series! **

Find them on Amazon

Since childhood, all sorts of stories and characters have lived in G.K. Brady’s imagination, elbowing one another for attention, so she’s finally giving them their voice on the written page.

 

An award-winning writer of contemporary romance, she loves telling tales of the less-than-perfect hero or heroine who transforms with each turn of a page. She also writes historical fiction under the pen name Griffin Brady.

 

G.K. is a wife and the proud mom of three grown sons. When she’s not writing, she might be reading, traveling, drinking wine, listening to music, or gardening—sometimes all at once! She currently resides in Colorado with her very patient husband.

  

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“And saving the best for last,” Fabrizio said, brows waggling, “Models Grace Mills and Amy Gray, and actress Paulina Brzezinski have agreed to be featured.”

Tessa rolled her eyes and continued taking notes, not saying a word.

“Problem, mate? Or rather, Tessa?”

Tessa’s irritation with Dario reignited. If she was smart, she’d keep her opinions to herself and her mouth shut. The challenge and arrogance in Dario’s gleaming blue eyes spurred Tessa on.

“Yes actually, since you asked. I have to wonder why the company hasn’t created a women’s edition. It’s the 21^st century. Sophisticated, contemporary women are interested in similar topics the men’s edition features. From a different perspective, but still. And women consider men’s bodies beautiful. Who among the ladies in this room wouldn’t mind admiring someone like Eric Nelson at least shirtless?”

Maya and a few other women in the room, including Legra all smiled in agreement, nodding enthusiastically.

Tessa couldn’t discern what Dario might have been thinking, but she wasn’t through. “It seems rather sexist to me considering women are over fifty percent of the population and seventy percent of the electorate in the U.S. Why not parlay the success and expand the brand of The Fundamental Gentleman to The Fundamental Woman?”

Tessa knew she was out of line, but Dario got on her nerves and played havoc with her emotions. It could be a “mate thing” or a “man thing” or a “Dario’s a cocky jerk thing” – she wasn’t sure which, but there it was. And there they were.

No one said a word, presumably waiting on Dario’s response to Tessa’s outburst.

He was going to fire her for sure.

How was Tessa going to explain that to Emelia?

Damn Dario and her big mouth.

Dario’s gaze turned fierce and possessive. “Tell me. Do you find my body beautiful?”

Tessa felt a flush slowly creep across her cheeks and squirmed in her chair. Of course she did. She’d dreamed about him and his beautiful body since Halloween night. The most sexy, erotic dreams she’d ever had. Not that she would admit it to him, especially in a room full of virtual strangers.

“God, they’re so cute.” Tessa heard Fabrizio whisper a little too loudly.

“You’re hopeless. Out of everything I just said – your takeaway is fishing for a compliment about your body?”

“Question answered. In the affirmative.” Dario’s chuckle served to piss Tessa off even more.

Int’l bestseller and award-winning author Dania Voss writes compelling, sexy romance with personality, heat, and heart. Born in Rome, Italy and raised in Chicagoland, she creates stories with authentic, engaging characters. She loves anything pink and is a huge fan of 80s hair bands.

A favorite with romance readers, her debut novel “On the Ropes,” the first in her Windy City Nights series, became an international bestseller. Dania’s books have won multiple awards, and her work has been highlighted on NBC, ABC, CBS, and FOX. She has been featured in the Chicago Tribune, Southern Writers Magazine, and Chicago Entrepreneurs Magazine (selected as the #8 Top Chicago Author in 2021).

When she’s not writing, you can find Dania at a sporting event, a rock concert, or the movies (preferably a comedy).

 

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Luna

Loving a Lancaster Book 2

While millionaire Luna Lancaster loves Lake Tahoe, she thrives in the outdoors near her home in Sedona, Arizona. When Luna’s good friend, Sadie, plans a visit and decides to bring a guest, Luna is excited to show them the sights of the beautiful Red Rocks around her home.

Unfortunately, Sadie can’t make it until later in the week, and Luna finds herself entertaining Trace Hampton alone for a few days. The chemistry between them sparks the moment they meet. The problem is that Luna thinks Trace and Sadie are a couple, and she does everything possible to hide her feelings and not act on them.

When Trace reveals that he is not involved with Sadie, Luna jumps at the chance to see what they could have, but when Sadie arrives, she tells Luna differently.

After running away from the heartbreak of his lies, Luna finally learns the truth, but only when Trace’s life is in danger. Can Luna reach him before it’s too late?

Luna is the second book in the Loving a Lancaster Series, which consists of seven books. These books are steamy romances with adult language and steamy love scenes.

 

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Leo

Loving a Lancaster Book 1

Leo Lancaster is coming home to Lake Tahoe. As a successful millionaire stockbroker and business owner, Leo has decided to open another office in Truckee and work out of that one instead of his Vegas office. Now, he must locate a house and get himself settled, and the last thing he expects to find on his return is love.

Heather McClain is a devoted mother of two teens, and a widow from Ohio. When her best friend encourages her to go on a girls trip to Lake Tahoe, she decides to take a break from the chaos at home and try to have fun. Only their antics are more than Heather bargained for.

Lucky for her, Leo is around to rescue her and the two of them quickly grow close, but is Heather ready to let go of her husband’s memory and move forward into a relationship, or more importantly, are her children prepared to accept a new man into their mother’s life when she surprises them with a trip to the lake?

Leo is the first book in the Loving a Lancaster Series, which will consist of seven books and is spin off of Coral, Loving a Winston, Book 5, in which Coral Winston meets the Lancaster family while on vacation in Lake Tahoe.

 

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Stacy Eaton is a USA Today Bestselling author and began her writing career in October of 2010. Stacy took early retirement from law enforcement after over fifteen years of service in 2016 due to a second serious concussion. Her last three years on the job were in investigations and crime scene investigation. She now writes full-time.

Stacy resides in southeastern Pennsylvania with her husband, who works in law enforcement. She has a daughter in college and a son who is currently serving in the United States Navy.

Stacy writes a variety of genres, but mostly romance. She enjoys writing real-life stories that people can relate to with real-life problems, emotions, and solutions.

Her favorites: Classic cars, photography, Disney, music, coffee, and her favorite sweatshirt that says, You are dangerously close to getting killed in my next novel.

 

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They think I’m smiling.

      That’s the part that always gets me—how fucking easy it is.

      A tilt of the mouth. A nod. A badge pressed to my chest like a holy relic. People will believe anything if the devil’s wearing a uniform. I could blow a man’s brains out in this bar and half of them would call it justice. The other half would thank me for keeping the peace.

      But I’m not thinking about them. I’m thinking about her.

      Summer.

      Out there, with another man like she’s forgotten the name I carved into her life. The woman I dragged from the dark and put under my roof. The woman I told myself I would keep.

      The woman I have been in love with for two years and have taken into my home to protect from the monsters that lurk in the dark. But she’s dancing with that fucker for all to see.

      That singing stray with hands too familiar and eyes that don’t understand what it means to touch something sacred.

      And she’s smiling. Not the smile she gives me. Not the one she wears when she thanks me through her teeth for the silk I buy or the food I put on the table. This one’s real. Soft. Lit from inside.

      Unforgivable.

      “She’s got moves,” some idiot mutters nearby. “Didn’t think the sheriff would let her off the leash.”

      My head turns slow. Wouldn’t want anyone to think I’m the kind of man who loses control. Yet.

      I find the voice. Lock eyes. Some oil-rig rat with beer on his breath and death behind his teeth.

      “You want to repeat yourself?” I say, calm as a storm gathering under skin.

      He chuckles. Weak. Backpedals. Good.

      I’m not in the mood to bury another one behind the diner.

      Haywood says something beside me—laughing about blood on a porch turning out to be barbecue sauce. I nod. Smile. Pretend I give a shit.

      I don’t.

      I’m too busy watching her. Still swaying. Still glowing. Still fucking mine.

He touches her waist. My hand twitches, the urge to pull out my gun and shoot the fucker burns through me like lava.

      If she were smart, she’d be crying right now. Begging me to make it stop. Begging me to get him to take his hands off her. But she doesn’t⁠—

      She’s gotten stupid. Or brave. Or both.

      From the first second, she was mine. Not a passing obsession—an inevitability carved into me. I’ve memorized every shiver, every tear, every defiance. She’s always belonged to me, even when she thought she was running. She still looks at me like I’m the danger. Maybe I am. But I’m also the only thing standing between her and the monsters who wanted her. Who planned her destruction. And if she knew what they had planned, what I had really saved her from, she would never lead a normal life again.

      Every road she takes will always lead back to me. Every breath she takes is already inside my hands. She can fight, she can hate, but she’ll never escape. I won’t let her. Not now. Not ever.

I haven’t owned her in the bedroom yet. I was never going to be the man to tie her down and take her against her will. Hell, that’s the men I’m saving her from. But right now, the idea of her in chains, taking every inch of my cock and staring into my eyes sounds like heaven. Maybe that’s what she needs. Maybe then she’ll stop eyeing bar rats and thinking it’s alright to let them put their hands on her.

      I’m a fucking monster. But a rapist?

      No.

      It takes every ounce of strength I have to walk back to the table and sit, to hide the storm clawing at my insides and let the room think I’m calm.

      “I’m waiting for you baby,” I mutter under my breath.

      The song ends and he finally takes his greasy fucking hands off her.

      I want to stomp on his fucking throat—but I won’t. I’ll play the long game. I’ll find out everything there is to know about that son of a bitch.

      She heads back over. Eyes down at the ground. She knows. She fucking knows. She has the audacity to sit there like nothing happened. Like she didn’t just look at another man like he could save her. Like he could take her home and fuck her into forgetting I ever existed.

      I saw it—that flicker. That spark she thought she could hide. She wanted him to look at her, to see her. To know she was interested. And now she sits there, all wide eyes and trembling lips, pretending she’s innocent?

No

“Had fun with your boyfriend?” The words come out smooth, almost playful, but they taste like rust on my tongue.

      What I really want to do is drag her out by the hair and make her confess how far she would’ve let him go if I wasn’t here.

I was born and raised in Hull, England, where I still live today with my four incredible children, two mischievous dogs, and a cat who thinks she’s the boss of us all. Life in my house is busy, loud, and wonderfully chaotic—but through it all, I’ve always had one constant: my love for stories.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been reading and writing. I was the kid who snuck books under the covers with a torch, the teenager scribbling down half-finished stories in notebooks, and now the woman whose imagination simply refuses to switch off. Stories have always been my way of making sense of the world, and I’ve carried that passion into writing books that dig into the messy, complicated sides of love, obsession, and survival.

When I’m not writing, you’ll usually find me surrounded by my family, walking the dogs, or curling up with a book and a cup of coffee (probably cold by the time I get to it). I’ve always had a soft spot for anything furry, and our house is very much a mix of kids, pets, and chaos—in the best possible way.

My debut novel, The Fall of Summer, is the first in The Reckoning Duet, and it’s the story that’s been tugging at my heart for years. It’s dark, it’s emotional, and it explores what happens when love and danger collide. My hope is that these books make you feel something real—whether it’s your pulse racing, your heart aching, or that little shiver down your spine when a line sticks with you long after you’ve read it.

Thank you for being here and for supporting my journey as an indie author. I can’t wait to share these stories with you, and I hope you’ll come along for the ride.

With love,

Rebecca Dale

 

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In 1974, at the age of twenty-six, Cynthia Ball White was diagnosed with Juvenile Diabetes. Today, it is estimated that 1.25 million Americans suffer from what is now referred to as Type I diabetes, compared to 38 million who have Type 2 (adult onset) diabetes. It is a merciless disease that often leads to blindness, neuropathy, amputations, and a host of other ailments, including a shortened life span.

Despite battling diabetes for forty-five years, Cyndi beat the odds. Not only did she outlive the average Type I diabetic, but until her last week of life in 2021, she had all her “parts intact”. Her daughter often called her a walking miracle. But more impressive was Cyndi’s positive outlook on life, even in the midst of tremendous loss and suffering.

The author hopes that in sharing Cyndi’s story, others may be inspired to face their own struggles with the same faith, courage, and joy as her mother did.

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I’m going to tell you about my mother. Yes, that is the story I will tell. No other story really matters. I know that now. Funny, how you can spend a lifetime conjuring up magical tales of dragons and enchanters and heroes who will never exist except in your own head and on sheets of paper, when the stories that matter most happen every day all around us. I’ve spent most of my life making up stories. It’s what I do. But now that Mom is gone, I have no stories left. At least none that I care about more than hers.

My first distinct memory of my mother (I was five or six) was in the hospital. I’d come to know that hospital well. It’s in Panorama City, half an hour from where I live now, half an hour from where I lived then, two different cities—two points on the circumference of a circle with the hospital at its center. It’s where all five of my children were born, where my youngest brother was born—and died. It’s where Mom would spend too much of her life. But not yet. That would come later.

I remember the elevator doors opening and Dad pushing Mom out in a wheelchair. She wore a yellow robe that a friend had bought her when she got sick. She had crocheted me a hat. It was yellow too, criss-crossed strands like a spider’s web, with a green band. She gave it to me there. I wore it often as a child. Somewhere, I have a picture of me wearing it. The hat is in my mother’s hope chest now, the one she passed on to me when I got married. Been in there for years. Decades. It’s still a treasure.

I remember her disappearing back inside the elevator, waving, the doors sliding shut, swallowing her. I still feel sick, tight and hollow inside, when I think of that memory.

In the weeks leading up to that hospital stay, which would be the first of dozens, she’d been sick. She’d lost weight and felt very ill. She thought she was dying of cancer, but she postponed seeing a doctor because she had recently enrolled in Kaiser Permanente medical insurance through Dad’s employer, and she thought they had to wait for their membership cards to come in the mail. By the time she walked into the ER, she was on death’s door.

Her doctor smelled her breath, which Mom thought was an odd thing to do. And then he called in other doctors to smell her breath. It smelled sweet, like decaying fruit. Mom was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes, which they used to call Juvenile Diabetes. It meant that her pancreas had completely malfunctioned, and she would be insulin-dependent the rest of her life. She learned how to give herself insulin by injecting oranges. She was twenty-six years old.

Mom actually felt relieved because it wasn’t cancer. There was no way to know then what diabetes would do to her, how it would shape not only her life but the lives of her husband and children and grandchildren, how it would gradually destroy her body a little at a time until it finally robbed her of life itself.

 

Last Summer in Algonac

by Laurisa White Reyes

Genre: Fictionalized Family Biography

From the Spark Award-winning author of The Storytellers & Petals…

The summer of 1938 is idyllic for fourteen-year-old Dorothy Ann Reid. She’s spent every summer of her life visiting her grandparent’s home on the banks of the St. Clair River in Algonac, Michigan. But unbeknownst to her, this will be her last. As Dorothy and her family pass their time swimming, fishing, and boating, they are blissfully unaware that tragedy lurks just around the corner.

Last Summer in Algonac is a fictionalized account of the author’s grandmother and her family’s final summer before her father’s suicide, which altered their lives forever. Inspired by real people and events, Laurisa Reyes has woven threads of truth with imagination, creating a “what if” tale. No one living today knows the details leading to Bertram Reid’s death, but thanks to decades of letters, personal interviews, historical research, and a visit to Algonac, Reyes attempts to resolve unanswered questions, and provide solace and closure to the Reid family at last.

 

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That last summer in Algonac, there was little water play for Father, who was now fifty-seven. Alberta, who had married less than two years earlier and had recently given birth to her first child, had opted to stay in Cleveland. She and Charles had been my grandest playmates while I was growing up, but now they both had new adult lives and families of their own. Even Charles, who was eleven years my senior (Alberta fourteen years), would prove too occupied with his wife Alice and their baby to venture into any games with me. I supposed Father might have played that role with me when I was young, but I was thirteen now, practically a woman, and neither he nor I dared suggest something so childish as to jump into the river for a splash—except for that one last wonderful afternoon.

Looking back, I wish that I had done it every day—that I had taken his hand and walked with him along the bank under the trees, or sat in the grass and taken off our shoes, letting our feet dangle in the chilled, meandering water. I wish that I had had the courage to ask him more about that old rowboat, whether he had ever taken it all the way across the river to Ontario, Canada, where he and his family had come from originally. I would have liked to have been in that boat with him rowing, his muscles taut under his shirt, his sleeves rolled to the elbow.

We wouldn’t have talked much. Father was a man of few words. But I would have listened to the ripples of the St. Clair lapping against the boat, the gentle cut of the oars through the water, the calls of birds overhead. It would have been enough just to be with him, to see his face turned to the sun, the light glinting off his spectacles, and to have seen traces of a smile on his lips.

1939, the year Father died, was a big year for America. It was the year the World’s Fair opened in New York, and the first shots of World War II were fired in Poland.  The Wizard of Oz premiered at Groman’s Chinese Theater in Hollywood, California, and Lou Gehrig gave his final speech in Yankee Stadium. Theodore Roosevelt had his head dedicated on Mt. Rushmore, and John Steinbeck published The Grapes of Wrath. All in all, it was a monumental year, one I would have liked to have shared with my father. He did live long enough for Amelia Earhart to be officially declared dead after she disappeared over the Atlantic nearly two years earlier, but otherwise, he missed the rest of it.

No child should have to mourn a parent. And if she does, at least things about it should be clear. Unanswered questions that plague one for the rest of one’s life shouldn’t be part of the picture.

Death is normally simple, isn’t it? Someone has a heart attack, or dies in a car accident, or passes away in their sleep from old age. Everyone expects to die sometime, and they wonder how it will happen and why. And when it does, as sad as it is for those left behind, the wonder is laid to rest.

Most of the time.

1939 was a blur. I’d prefer to forget it, quite frankly. But 1938 was worth remembering, especially that summer we spent in Algonac with Grandmother Reid and the family. As long as I could remember, we’d spent every summer on the banks of the St. Clair. As it turned out, it would be my final summer in Algonac. Our last summer together. Of course, I didn’t know it at the time, and I’m glad. If I could have seen seven months into the future, if I had known then how the world as I knew it would all come crashing down, it would have spoiled everything.

Laurisa White Reyes is the author of twenty-one books, including the SCBWI Spark Award-winning novel The Storytellers and the Spark Honor recipient Petals. She is also the Senior Editor at Skyrocket Press and an English instructor at College of the Canyons in Southern California. Her next release, a non-fiction book on the Old Testament, will be released in August 2026 with Cedar Fort Publishing.

 

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She glared at the downpour, measuring its progress. They had maybe fifteen minutes. Then, they were going to get drenched.

“Mom, what are we going to do?” Leo squeaked.

“It’s going to be okay,” she said, the first thing which came to her.

He looked up at her, deep green eyes wide. “How are we going to get to…Aunt Gertrude’s?” He sniffled. “I wish we were home, on the Chesapeake.”

She pulled Leo to her and hugged him. “So do I, son.” She stared at the water. “So…do…I.” She knew she needed to comfort her son, but what could she say? She’d tried never to lie to Leo. She scrunched down next him. “Mr. Salazar knows where we were headed. When we don’t come back in time, he’d send someone to go look for us. We simply need to wait.”

“You think so?” Leo sniffed.

“I do,” Erin answered, hoping she wasn’t lying to him. “But for now, since your dad’s not here, I need you to be a big guy for me. You think you can do that?”

He gave a slow nod and stuck out his chest. “I’ll try.”

Erin hugged him again. “That’s my big boy.” Still low next to him, she pointed out over the water. “See that line?”

“You mean that dark row?”

“Yeah, that’s a storm.”

“It is?” The fear was back in his voice.

“Yeah, and it’s coming this way.” She patted him on the chest. “The good news is it doesn’t look like there is any thunderstorm with it.” She pointed again. “No lightning.”

“O-kay,” he swallowed the two syllables.

“It means we’re going to get wet. But hey, didn’t we just spend the last few hours getting wet?”

He nodded.

“I think we can stand a little rain. What do you think?”

He looked at the approaching curtain of rain and then at his mom. “I guess so.” He sniffed again. “But mom, I’m scared.”

She hugged him tight. “It’ll be okay. You’ll see.” She hoped she wasn’t lying. “Hey, I just thought of something. Remember the cave we passed on our way to the waterfall. The one you wanted to explore, but I wouldn’t let you.” She glanced at the curtain of rain, then back at her son. “I think now would be a great time to check out the cave. What do you say?”

“Okay,” he gulped.

“If we hurry, we’ll might even be able to beat the rain.” She grabbed the picnic basket and the preserver. “I’ll race you.”

As they trotted down the trail they’d left a few minutes ago, she cast one last glance over her shoulder. But no one will be able to see us hiding in the cave…if they come looking for us.

Chapter 38

            The rain pounding on the roof of the car woke him. Darrell had no idea how long he’d been out. He shook his head and it all came back to him, like a slowly evolving video. The black SUV on his tail. Their hell-bent speed. Then the Cadillac pulled up alongside him. The car cut in front and Darrell had to jerk his car onto the shoulder. He lost control and swerved off the road.

            He felt his forehead. It hurt, bad. He must’ve hit it on the steering wheel. At least, the airbag hadn’t deployed. The car was still drivable, he thought. The Taurus hadn’t conked out, the engine idled quietly. Darrell decided he better get out to assess the damage. He put the car in park. When he was about the turn off the ignition, he hesitated. What if it didn’t restart? He let it alone.

            He pulled the handle to open his door, but it only moved about an inch and then stopped. He buzzed the window down and the rain sluiced inside. Darrell did his best to ignore it and looked out and down. He saw the edge of the ditch about a foot deep next to his car, his door.

Yanking his head in, he raised the window back up. No need to get any more wet than he had to. He climbed over the console and practically stumbled into the passenger’s seat, Erin’s seat. At least, she hadn’t been with him. The speed and the near collision would’ve infuriated her…and terrified her. Hell, it terrified him. He hoped she and Leo were having a great time out on the water. The rain pounded on the steel frame of the roof. He prayed they weren’t dealing with this storm out over Lake Michigan.

Putting his shoulder against the passenger door, it opened partway and Darrell could feel it pushing against the mud on the ground. He squeezed through the opening and out the door. His feet squelched in the mud. In seconds, the hard rain drenched him, his clothes soaked. At least, it wasn’t cold. Rain had cooled it a little, but the temperature still hovered in the high seventies, he guessed. Since he was out and soaked, he forced himself to struggle in the mud and check out the car. His feet getting sucked into the muck, he tromped his way around most of the frame. The Taurus appeared to be okay, though some parts of the body were so mud-splattered he couldn’t be sure. He’d driven off the road and over the shoulder but the culvert must have caught the car, the sloppy mud cutting the speed before he could run into anything else.

**Don’t miss the rest of the Haunted Shores Mysteries!**

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Dr. Randy Overbeck is an award-winning educator, author, speaker and podcaster. As an educator, he served children for more than three decades and has mined that experience to create captivating fiction, authoring two series, the bestselling series, “The Haunted Shores Mysteries,” and the award-winning series, “Lessons in Peril.” His novels have won national awards including Mystery of the Year (ReaderViews) Best Book Award (Chanticleer Books and Reviews) and the Gold Award (Literary Titan) and amassed hundreds of 5-star reviews on Amazon and Goodreads. Dr. Overbeck also hosts the popular podcast, “Great Stories about Great Storytellers,” where he reveals the unusual and sometimes strange backstories of famous authors, directors and poets. He is a speaker in considerable demand, sharing his popular presentations about ghosts, writing and book publishing with hundreds of audiences all over the U.S.

 

As a member of the Mystery Writers of America, Dr. Overbeck is an active member of the literary community, contributing to a writers’ critique group, serving as a mentor to emerging writers and participating in writing conferences such as Killer Nashville and the ThrillerFest. When he’s not researching, writing, speaking or podcasting, Randy enjoys traveling with his wife Cathy and visiting both his far-flung family and scenic locations, often in search of inspiration for his next great story.

 

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