Beneath the Lighthouse SOME SECRETS ARE MADE TO BE UNCOVERED. Sixteen-year-old Jamie McGuiness’s sister is dead. Sinking into a deep depression, he frequents the lighthouse where her body was discovered, unaware of the sinister forces surrounding him. When an angry spirit latches onto Jamie, he’s led down a dark and twisted path, one that uncovers old family secrets, destroying everything Jamie ever believed in. Caught between the world of the living and the vengeful dead, Jamie fights the pull of the other side. It’s up to Jamie to settle old scores or no one will rest in peace—but, first, he has to survive. Author Bio: Julieanne Lynch is an author of urban fantasy and contemporary fiction for both adults and teens. Julieanne lives in Northern Ireland, with her husband and five children, where she works on novels full-time. Before becoming a writer, she considered a few different career paths, a rock star being one of them. She studied English Literature and Creative Writing at The Open University and considered journalism as a career path. However, she decided writing was the way for her and is thankful for each day she lives her dream. Julieanne is represented by Italia Gandolfo of Gandolfo Helin & Fountain Literary Management, and is both traditionally and independently published. Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter
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Title: A Tempest of Discovery
Series: Midnight Dynasty #1
Author: Sarah M. Cradit
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release Date: January 22, 2018
Charlotte Fontenot was in way over her head, and not for the reasons she expected. Lawrence led her up the stairs, winding them into a series of asymmetrical hallways that left Charlotte dizzy and disoriented. The homes in New Orleans were structured more evenly, with central halls and parlors leading to rooms on each side. The upstairs of this mansion was more like a maze, one she was quite positive once Lawrence left her alone she’d find herself lost within. She hadn’t expected the moment of engagement to lead so quickly to personal attention. As the man of the night, Lawrence Henry had as many masters as there were guests, and his polite, but quick attention to each of them was what she expected for herself as well. Julian would give her grief for the calculated fall, but she feared a customary introduction wouldn’t be enough to make her stand out. She’d never know if it was the fall, the dress, or her, but she had Lawrence in her attention, a no doubt temporary state of affairs. She needed to make the most of what time she had. Lawrence stopped before a long room with doors on each end. The ornate gilded handles were as lengthy as her torso, and nearly as thick. With a soft grunt, he pulled one of them open, dropping her arm briefly to make use of both hands, and gestured for her to enter first. Charlotte’s breath caught as she stepped into the room. Mirrors, hundreds, lined the walls, obscuring an actual appraisal of the precise size of the space. Movable racks held dazzling clothing of all kinds, from smoking jackets to gowns. Rotating shelves shaped like long cylinders showcased an expansive collection of shoes. “You weren’t kidding,” she breathed. She had never been especially snared by expensive things, but Charlotte was mesmerized. “Next time a guy tells me he wants to take me to his dressing room, I’ll believe him.” “My authentic pickup lines are far more creative.” He stood at a distance, watching her. When she turned to look at him, his smile broadened. “I said I’d leave you alone.” Charlotte pivoted away, heels clicking on the hard floors. She feigned a lack of interest with a dismissive wave over her shoulder. “You can stay, it’s fine. Unless you need to get back?” “I might need medical attention. Your dress is blinding in these mirrors,” Lawrence teased. He threw his arms dramatically across his eyes when she turned to shoot him a look. I can take it off, she nearly said, but that was far more forward than she wanted to be this early. In fact, she didn’t want to be forward at all. She only wanted to lower his defenses. From the blush in Lawrence’s cheeks, she guessed he was thinking the same. He had the decency to move away and filter through a collection of men’s jackets. Charlotte continued her tour of the shoes. Her size, seven, was on the other end of the room, but he didn’t know she knew that, so she took her time. She hadn’t expected time alone with Lawrence, so she wasn’t prepared with the right words to draw out his truths. She felt his eyes on her again, and she moved with even more deliberateness, knowing full well how the dress sat on her hips, how it contoured and highlighted her best assets. Was she trying to seduce him? She didn’t think so. Certainly, she had no intention of seeing any such game through to conclusion, and she wasn’t looking to confuse the poor man. His measure was what she wanted. There were few things more telling about a man than how he handled himself in private with a beautiful woman. “It’s so good of your sister to be here with you, supporting your good work,” Charlotte ventured. She turned over a size ten in her hands, pretended to regard it with more than passing curiosity. “Gabrielle?” Lawrence said the name without the warmth of familiarity. “Yeah, she’s very supportive.” “I have to confess, when we first arrived, I mistook her for your girlfriend.” A darkness passed over Lawrence’s soft features. “No, I don’t have a girlfriend.” He stepped away from the jacket rack. “Where are you from, Miss Fontenot?” “New Orleans.” She saw no reason to lie, as Julian had. If they did fold the Henrys into their world, as Colleen undoubtedly hoped they would, a lie was no way to start a relationship. Lawrence smiled, nodded. “So that’s where I know the Fontenot name. My father is a business acquaintance of Luther Fontenot. Any relation?” “Luther is my uncle,” Charlotte replied. “My father’s brother.” “Small world. I escape New Orleans and it follows me to Paris anyway.” Charlotte met his eyes in a hundred reflections. “And what do you have to escape, Lawrence Henry?” Lawrence tried to focus on one iteration of her and laughed at his failure, at the confusing nature of the endless arrangement of mirrors. “If you can believe it, it’s Paris I’d prefer to escape.” “La Ville Lumière? La Ville de L’amour?” “Your French is quite good, Miss Fontenot.” “My mother is French. And you’re deflecting.” Lawrence stopped his casual perusing of clothes he obviously had no interest in. “Deflecting?” Charlotte tried to hide her expression, as she remembered the tense conversation between Lawrence and his sister the night before, but this was impossible in a room of reflections. She forced a smile. “Why would anyone want to flee a city like Paris?” Lawrence tossed his eyes to the side with a faint smile. “Right. City of Light. City of Love. All that?” “I said it better.” He looked to his feet and his grin widened. “Yes, you did.” “So?” “Would you believe I’m homesick?” “If you were anywhere but Paris. And home was anywhere but New Orleans.” “Fair play,” Lawrence conceded. He pulled his jacket out to his sides with his pocketed hands and shuffled in place. “I have business back home I feel like I’m neglecting, you could say.” “What sort of business?” Lawrence clucked his tongue. “What a personal question, Miss Fontenot. Next you’ll be curious about my undergarment preferences.” Charlotte set down a shoe and squinted one eye. “Oh, Mr. Henry, I would definitely peg you for a brief man.” He chuckled. “I don’t think I want to know how you came to that conclusion.” “That’s good, because I hadn’t planned to divulge my secrets.”
Sarah is the USA Today bestselling author of the Paranormal Southern Gothic series, The House of Crimson & Clover, born of her combined passion for New Orleans, and the mysterious complexity of human nature. Her work has been described as rich, emotive, and highly dimensional.
An unabashed geek, Sarah enjoys studying obscure subjects like the Plantagenet and Ptolemaic dynasties, and settling debates on provocative Tolkien topics such as why the Great Eagles are not Gandalf's personal taxi service. Passionate about travel, Sarah has visited over twenty countries collecting sparks of inspiration (though New Orleans is where her heart rests). She's a self-professed expert at crafting original songs to sing to her very patient pets, and a seasoned professional at finding ways to humiliate herself (bonus points if it happens in public). When at home in Oregon, her husband and best friend, James, is very kind about indulging her love of fast German cars and expensive lattes.
Choosing Hope Choosing Hope is a harrowing story of passion and deceit, the things we do for love and the rabbit holes we tumble into chasing elusive fairy-tale endings. Dark around the edges with a shocking twist I didn’t see coming, this is the kind of book you’ll be passing around to your friends so you can talk about it. Holly Kammier delivers romance, suspense, and a strong, smart heroine who turns out to be nobody’s victim. Don’t miss this one! – Kat Ross, best-selling author of The Midnight Sea A broken marriage. Hope Rains Sullivan is living the dream—a successful husband, two beautiful young boys, and a charming home in Northern California. She should be happy. She almost convinced herself she was, until Adrian came along. Adrian, appears to be everything her husband isn’t. He works with his hands, and is even willing to use them in a fight. He’s sexy, strong and fit, with warm brown skin that alludes to his Spanish background. Best of all, he lives for spending time with his kids. Feeling alone in her marriage, Adrian offers her a way out Hope’s affair is just the beginning. Her journey inward will require untangling her complicated past and surviving an astonishing revelation. Her lover is not who he pretends to be. She’s searching for her happily-ever-after, and no matter how painful the journey, she’ll find what she’s been looking for all along—the chance to choose Hope. Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: I held my breath for a beat and tilted my head to press my lips against his. Our mouths parted, fitting softly together at first, until he kissed me harder. He tasted so good, my body pushed closer. Our lips knew each other. I moved on top of his lap, my legs on either side. His warmth, his crisp citrus scent. This was what kissing someone should feel like. Hormones, pheromones, love, whatever it was, washed over me. I needed this man. I wanted to feel this way every hour of every single day. My hand found its way up the back of his shirt. His skin ran hot. The ocean roared. I heard voices talking low, a couple walking by us. His hand pressed into the small of my back. His other hand grabbed at the nape of my neck. He whispered, “I love you, Hope.” I froze. He tried to kiss to me again. He couldn’t, not with my lower lip firmly entrenched in my teeth. I bit down with such force, I worried I’d draw blood. Why was he doing this to me? Why was I allowing it to happen? His amber-green eyes looked into mine. Tears pooled against my lashes. “I wish you could feel what I’m feeling,” he said, “so you’d know it’s true.” Author Bio: Co-owner of Acorn Publishing, Holly Kammier is a UCLA honors graduate and an accomplished content editor. With a background in journalism, she has worked everywhere from CNN in Washington, D.C. and KCOP-TV in Los Angeles, to the NBC affiliate in small-town Medford, Oregon. Holly is the best-selling author of the novel, Kingston Court, and Could Have Been Hollywood, a memoir. She recently completed her third book, Choosing Hope, a spin-off from Kingston Court. Choosing Hope is a harrowing story of passion and deceit, and the things we do for love. Holly resides in her hometown of San Diego, California, close to family and friends. A world traveler in her younger years, these days when she isn’t writing or working with new authors, she spends much of her time hanging out with her two boys, Josh and Alex. Holly is an avid reader with a passion for timeless books and beautiful writing. She also enjoys long walks with her Jack Russell Terrier, romantic movies, and making her mischievous sons smile wider. Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter GIVEAWAY!
Charity Information Spirit of Children Charity by Spirit Halloween Stores provides comfort toys, play rooms and special child-based training for medical care providers though the Child Life Department of hospitals across the country.
"Sanctuary" by Harper L. Jameson Inside the hallowed bell tower of Our Lady, a monster was hidden by the righteous meant to protect him. Seeking help from the amighty against the furor of a crazed priest, Esmerelda found more than a monster inside the church...she found salvation.
"Bander Snatch" by David Michael Charlie has a secret - a centuries old secret - which has forced him into a life of solitude and lonliness. In order to rid himself of his curse, he has to give up the first piece of normal he's ever had. Will the Jabberwock win again? "Beyond the Shallows" by Kristy Nicolle When English beauty and avid poetry lover Ophelia is holidaying with her two sisters in 19th Century Blackpool, she finds herself unmistakably called to the water. Will she flee in horror at what lies beneath the waves, or can she learn to look beyond the shallows? "He Calls" by Alice K. Wayne When the Master of the new world summons you, will you surrender your body to Cthulu's call, or choose to be fractured by madness? "Yielding to Temptation" by Jess Raven Skyla had one job. Get in, get the prize, get out. The house had other ideas. When she finds herself trapped with too many secrets and a man who claims the impossible, can she stay strong enough to fight the darkness for a man who captivates her, or will she become prey to the Portrait of Dorian Gray? "Holding the Devil" by Stephanie Farrant Hell isn't a game. A night of passion and a promise of her heart's desire seems too good to be true for Evelyn Church. The price is high and the road dark. But can she trust the devil? "Hyde and Seek" by Katie H. Weill Gabriel John Utterson is drowning in law school debt, so when a lucrative employment opportunity as a guard for a handful of mental health patients presents itself he accepts, and commits himself under the hands of Dr. Jekyll. But who is Ms. Hyde? "Behemoth" by D.M. Earl Trying to find that rare woman to share his heart with, Francis N. Stein- Aka Stitch - struggles to live detached, battling his honorable and dark sides. His ‘special powers’ further complicate his ability to exist in society, searching for something he has never thought possible- a kindred spirit. "Night Music" by Desiree King On a fateful night, a young songstress finds herself in the wrong place at the worst time. A shadowy figure seems to fall from the darkness to save her, but who is actually the monster? "Wickedly Ever After" by Stephanie Ingram Somewhere over the rainbow, good and evil struggle for power. But in a land of magical possibility, can the wicked get a happy ending? "Immortal Devotion" by Lou Tenn The Father of Vampires has lived in solitude, believing that she didn't exist. After she finally made an appearance, her family business proves to complicate things. "Loving the Hound" by Mila Waters When death comes, so does he. He's the hound, the messenger no one wishes to see. But when Emmaline 'sees' past the omens, he's given the chance at something he's never known before.
Author: Harper L. Jameson, David Michael Charlie, Kristy Nicolle, Alice K. Wayne, Jess Raven, Stephanie Farrant, Katie H. Weill, D.M. Earl, Desiree King, Stephanie Ingram, Lou Tenn, and Mila Waters
Genre: Paranormal Romance, Adult
Release Date: October 31, 2017 Publisher: Satin & Stone Publications, LLC Cover Artist: Dark City Designs
Dracula, Quasimodo, Dr. Jekyll…they are the monsters that stalk your nightmares. Haunting the pages of books for centuries, they are the embodiment of all that emerges from the shadows when you close your eyes. They are the deformed, the hated and the incomprehensible, fated to walk in the darkness alone forever. Or are they? From twelve amazing authors, come twelve new tales, stories that go beyond the blighted surface to see into the heart of the beast. They are stories of acceptance and redemption, love and passion… and chance encounters that forge the love of a lifetime. Stop running. Stop hiding. See past the monster. Look into the face of fear and you might just find the soul of a man.
Charity Information Spirit of Children Charity by Spirit Halloween Stores provides comfort toys, play rooms and special child-based training for medical care providers though the Child Life Department of hospitals across the country.
"Sanctuary" by Harper L. Jameson Inside the hallowed bell tower of Our Lady, a monster was hidden by the righteous meant to protect him. Seeking help from the amighty against the furor of a crazed priest, Esmerelda found more than a monster inside the church...she found salvation.
"Bander Snatch" by David Michael Charlie has a secret - a centuries old secret - which has forced him into a life of solitude and lonliness. In order to rid himself of his curse, he has to give up the first piece of normal he's ever had. Will the Jabberwock win again? "Beyond the Shallows" by Kristy Nicolle When English beauty and avid poetry lover Ophelia is holidaying with her two sisters in 19th Century Blackpool, she finds herself unmistakably called to the water. Will she flee in horror at what lies beneath the waves, or can she learn to look beyond the shallows? "He Calls" by Alice K. Wayne When the Master of the new world summons you, will you surrender your body to Cthulu's call, or choose to be fractured by madness? "Yielding to Temptation" by Jess Raven Skyla had one job. Get in, get the prize, get out. The house had other ideas. When she finds herself trapped with too many secrets and a man who claims the impossible, can she stay strong enough to fight the darkness for a man who captivates her, or will she become prey to the Portrait of Dorian Gray? "Holding the Devil" by Stephanie Farrant Hell isn't a game. A night of passion and a promise of her heart's desire seems too good to be true for Evelyn Church. The price is high and the road dark. But can she trust the devil? "Hyde and Seek" by Katie H. Weill Gabriel John Utterson is drowning in law school debt, so when a lucrative employment opportunity as a guard for a handful of mental health patients presents itself he accepts, and commits himself under the hands of Dr. Jekyll. But who is Ms. Hyde? "Behemoth" by D.M. Earl Trying to find that rare woman to share his heart with, Francis N. Stein- Aka Stitch - struggles to live detached, battling his honorable and dark sides. His ‘special powers’ further complicate his ability to exist in society, searching for something he has never thought possible- a kindred spirit. "Night Music" by Desiree King On a fateful night, a young songstress finds herself in the wrong place at the worst time. A shadowy figure seems to fall from the darkness to save her, but who is actually the monster? "Wickedly Ever After" by Stephanie Ingram Somewhere over the rainbow, good and evil struggle for power. But in a land of magical possibility, can the wicked get a happy ending? "Immortal Devotion" by Lou Tenn The Father of Vampires has lived in solitude, believing that she didn't exist. After she finally made an appearance, her family business proves to complicate things. "Loving the Hound" by Mila Waters When death comes, so does he. He's the hound, the messenger no one wishes to see. But when Emmaline 'sees' past the omens, he's given the chance at something he's never known before. Subhuman THEY ARE NOT HUMAN. THEY ARE NOT NATURAL. THEY ARE NOT FRIENDLY. Praise for Michael McBride “A fast-paced and frightening ride. Highly recommended for fans of creature horror and the thrillers of Michael Crichton.”--The Horror Review on PREDATORY INSTINCT “McBride writes with the perfect mixture of suspense and horror that Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: Anya screamed and ran to Richards. Grabbed him by the back of the jacket and pulled. “You have to help me!” The freezing air buffeted her in the face when she looked up and saw a man only vaguely resembling Armand Scott pounce to the ground from on top of Connor. Snowflakes blew sideways past him and stuck to the walkway between them. His cranial deformity was identical to that of the remains she’d unearthed in Russia, only the physical expression of the flesh was for more terrifying than she could ever have imagined. She’d envisioned its face as being similar to that of modern man, but there was nothing remotely human about Scott’s appearance. Everything about him was alien, from the grayish cast of his skin to the way he twitched and moved in lurches, as though unfamiliar with the mechanics of motion. Fissures crackled as they raced through the Plexiglas. The creature scuttled forward and cocked its head, first one way and then the other. Blood dribbled from its mouth when it issued a hiss that sounded like steam firing from a ruptured pipe. Anya screamed and threw herself to her knees. “Come on!” She grabbed Richards underneath his arms and shouted with the effort of lifting him. He found his feet, but couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the creature. “It’s magnificent,” he said. “Hurry!” Friden shouted. The stairwell echoed with the drumroll of footsteps hitting the iron steps. Anya looked back and saw several silhouettes bounding down the staircase toward them. She jerked Richards so hard she nearly sent him sprawling once more, but he regained his balance and stumbled backward with her. She took advantage of his newfound momentum to drag him away from the creature, which lunged forward, cutting the distance between them in half. A scream from behind her. She whirled to find Kelly in the opening to the Skyway, her hands clapped over her mouth. When Anya looked back, the creature was within ten feet of them and tensed to make another advance. More popping sounds from above her. The cracks spread through the walls in her peripheral vision. Chunks of Plexiglas fell to the ground between her and the creature, which released a series of clicking sounds and retreated into the blowing snow. A loud snap and a cable sang past to her right. The entire bridge shuddered. “Hurry, Anya!” Friden shouted. “There’s another one behind us!” Jade screamed. “Start barricading the stairwell,” Evans shouted. “And then what?” Jade asked. “We’ll be trapped in here without light or heat or any way to signal for help.” Anya pulled Richards toward them. If she could just cross the threshold at the end of the Skyway, they could seal the creature on the other side. Anya hit the ground on her knees and barely scrambled out of the way before Richards landed on top of her. The walkway sloped downward toward where the creature crouched. The domed Plexiglas shattered and dropped enormous shards between them. The storm raced through the gap, creating a moving wall of snow between them that nearly concealed the creature as it approached, low to the ground and coming up fast. A resounding thud. The Skyway slanted downward, so steeply that Anya started to slide. She grabbed Richards by the back of the jacket with one hand and reached for anything at all with the other. “Hang on!” Evans shouted and dove for her. He caught her by the wrist and halted her slide. Another cable snapped and whipped the frozen glass beside them hard enough to shatter the glass and impale her cheek with tiny fragments. Evans groaned and pulled her up toward the doorway, the seal around which was already buckled and peeling away from the building. “Give me a hand!” he shouted. Friden tentatively crawled to Evans’s side, grabbed Richards, and pulled hard enough on the back of his coat to pry him from Anya’s grasp, lightening her burden enough that Evans could drag her up the slope and over the fractured edge. She scurried past Evans, turned around, and helped the others pull Richards into the stairwell. Bolts snapped and structural rings disengaged. Bits of Plexiglas cascaded down the bridge toward where the creature crawled toward them. A chasm opened behind it. Connor’s body slid through, tumbled out over the nothingness, and vanished into the storm. “Close the door!” Anya screamed. The creature slapped at the floor with its bare hands as the bridge grew steeper, digging its fingernails into the tiles in an effort to gain traction. Evans pried the door from the recess until the others were able to help him drag it across the entryway. The creature shrieked and scrambled uphill, blood dribbling from the gunshot wounds on its chest. Ten feet. Five. It was nearly upon them when the Skyway broke away from the building. The creature’s eyes widened. Its nails tore from the cuticles. It screeched and flailed. The last thing Anya saw before they sealed the door was the expression of sheer terror on its face as it plummeted into the blowing snow. “Someone help me!” Roche shouted from the landing at the top of the staircase, where he struggled to jerk the door from its slot in the wall. “It’s right behind me!” Anya rushed for the stairs and hit them behind Kelly and Jade, who were already halfway up. She barely had the strength to climb and had to use the railing to pull herself higher. She nearly lost her balance when her hand slipped in something wet, but she managed to stumble forward and made it to the landing, where the others already had the gap down to a mere foot. A dark shape streaked straight toward the opening from the foyer on the other side, the light reflecting from its inhuman eyes. “It’s coming!” Anya screamed. She threw herself against the face of the door and used her shoulder to help the others drive it closed with a resounding thud. The creature struck it from the other side, hard enough to knock her backward, but she braced herself and leaned into it again. Kelly screamed beside her as the creature hurled itself against the steel door, over and over. Until, finally, it stopped. Anya desperately listened for any indication of what it was doing on the other side but couldn’t hear anything over the combination of their heavy breathing and whimpering. She pictured Arkaim, with its twin fortified rings, a veritable fortress that should have been able to withstand any siege, reduced to little more than scorched rubble in the middle of a field, and the strange remains she exhumed near its outskirts. She’d made a terrible mistake in assuming that the coneheaded species represented a terminal branch in the human evolutionary tree rather than an off shoot from modern man, one facilitated by something lacking in humanity, something subhuman, the outward physical manifestation of which looked an awful lot like the alien species referred to as Grays. Only there was nothing fictional about this being. The creature shrieked and threw itself against the door one final time. It released a torrent of guttural clicks, then retreated into the station. The sound of its footsteps diminished until she couldn’t hear anything from the other side at all. Anya stepped back and looked at the door. Her hand had left a smear of blood on the steel. She glanced down at her palm, expecting to find a laceration, but the skin was intact. She took Roche’s flashlight from him and traced the railing down to where she’d slipped. There was blood on the rail, and even more on the wall above it, leading up to a hole in the exposed ductwork. Her heart sank when she gave voice to what they were all thinking. “We’re going to die in here.” Author Bio: Michael McBride was born in Colorado and still resides in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains. He hates the snow, but loves the Avalanche. He works with medical radiation, yet somehow managed to produce five children, none of whom, miraculously, have tails, third eyes, or other random mutations. He writes fiction that runs the gamut from thriller (Remains) to horror to science fiction (Vector Borne, Snowblind) . . . and loves every minute of it. He is a two-time winner of the DarkFuse Readers' Choice Award. You can visit him at author.michaelmcbride.net. Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter GIVEAWAY!
Title: By the Fates, Fulfilled
Series: By the Fates #4
Author: Patricia D. Eddy
Genre: Paranormal Romance/Suspense
Release Date: October 31, 2017
Blurb
I spend my days hiding. Spelled behind a mask. Waiting. Hoping.
While in the dungeon, Raven suffers alone. Chained and tortured, waiting for Ealasaid to rescue him. To fulfill her destiny and save the world. Then a man I thought long dead breaks through my defenses. He knows who I am. He's seen my true face. Will he expose my secret? Or is he the one who will finally set me free?
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Excerpt
Chapter One
The lone figure shuddered under the thick wool blanket, and I released my breath. Alive. At least for tonight. The knot Iâd carried in my chest for the past few hours loosened as I approached his cell. Not entirely, of course. The tether that bound me to the witch forced me to sense her constant fear. Only when she slept did I find any reliefâand of late, sheâd slept little. Perhaps once I cast the spell back in my chamber, Iâd earn a few hours of peace.
Peace? Youâre trapped as much as this man is. I cursed under my breath. The long days suffocating under the weight of my secret were taking their toll. I longed to breathe free air, but until we found a way to escape Eideardâs spells, I had to maintain my disguise lest the emaciated and broken man in the cell before me gained a companion. The dungeon walls pressed in on me. Most of the room was underground, keeping the temperature near freezing. Only the top few feet of the room peeked above the ground, a tiny window high on the wall providing a torturous glimpse of freedom so far from our reach.
Tufts of matted black hair stuck up from the prisonerâs cocoon. A thick chain rattled as he shivered. Why Eideard insisted on the manacleârunning from the manâs ankle to a hasp low on the wallâI could not fathom. The binding spell, the starvation, and the beatings ensured heâd never escape. Not without some sort of miracle.
âDelphine? Youâre relieved.â
The deep voice startled me. I nearly dropped the cup of water and the bowl of porridge I carried on a well-worn tray. The scents of cedar and fresh rain announced his presence behind me and I squeezed my eyes shut for a brief moment, not wanting to see him as he was now. After a breath, I found my voice.
âShortly. Iâve brought the prisonerâs meal. Youâve time for a mug of kahve if you wish.â I turned, biting my lower lip to quell the tremble. Beforeâ¦the human and I had been close, or weâd tried to be. Iâd always found Conall to be a kind and interesting manâone I wanted to know better. Now, victim to the last remaining snáthaid, a stranger stood before me.
We hadnât known what the snáthaid could do. How if left in a personâs body, it would burrow deeper, the magic eating away at the soul until only an empty shell remained, ready to be molded like clay. King Conall had died more than six months ago, and Eideardâalong with his personal mage, Brandannaâhad sculpted him into Lachlan, a low-level guard loyal to Clan Kendrick. After the witchâs escape, Eideard assigned Lachlan to the night watch to torture the lone prisoner even further.
âIâ¦â He glanced towards the stone steps that led out of the underground dungeon. âI do not like kahve.â
âYou had a mug with you last week.â My fingers started to itch and the dull throbs of a headache bloomed behind my eyes. I couldnât hold onto my spell much longerâanother half an hour at most. âNo matter. Take this morningâs tray back to the kitchens. Eideard may not care if the prisoner sleeps in rat shite, but I refuse to spend my days watching the disgusting things crawl all over him.â
I opened the cell and then gestured to the untouched meal. âGo on.â Even in my lowly positionâbarely a member of the Guarda, more of a glorified kitchen wenchâI outranked Lachlan. Everyone did. From the king to the lowest foot soldier. At least he had no memory of his former station. Small blessings, I supposed.
Uncertainty pinched his dark brows, but he wouldnât ignore a direct order. As he rose, his hands shook, and his gaze pleaded with me before he turned on his heel and trudged up the steps.
I couldnât spare the time to wonder why he feared leaving the dungeon. Moving quickly, I dropped to one knee and pulled the blanket away from the warlockâs face. He cringed and shrank further into the corner. âN-no.â
âShh. Itâs only me.â I rested my palm on his chest, each rib sharp under his thin shirt. âYou must eat.â
âLet m-me d-die.â His eyes fluttered closed. Blue veins contrasted starkly against skin that hadnât seen the sun in months. With more speed than I thought him capable of, he lunged for the athame at my waist. Cursing, I leapt back.
âYou are not worth the wrath I would earn if you died, warlock.â I spat at his bare feet, drew my athame, and pressed the blade to his throat in case Lachlan came back. Unable to hold his head up, the warlock sagged forward as hoarse sobs wracked his body. I should never have let him go this long without the respite from the Mists. I knew better, but the witch had been so insistent. âYou will stay alive for as long as the king wishes. This I promise you.â
âPleaseâ¦â
The anguish in his voice threatened my tenuous control. I glanced over my shoulder. We were still alone. I let my spell slip away for a moment, and rather than a middle-aged, stout devil woman with no hair, yellow teeth, and a thick middle, I stood before the prisoner in my true form. Tall, with silver hair past my shoulders, and barely enough bulk to hold my corset up, my familiar face rallied him, though only slightly.
âI can give you peace, for a day or two. But only if you eat.â Thankful Lachlan was taking his time, I slid the athame into its holster and grabbed the prisonerâs arms so I could gently lower him to the floor. My whispered words only seemed to drive him further into despair. âAs long as she lives, she will never stop searching. Sheâll find a way.â
âOr dieâ¦trying.â As the man slumped against the wall, his dark lashes glistened with spilled tears in the torchlight, and I swore under my breath as I noted how sunken his cheeks had become. âHelp meâ¦protect her. Kill me.â
Six hopeless months ago, Iâd made my vow. How much longer could I stand to watch him suffer? âYou are the only reason she lives.â I cupped his chin and forced his head up. âThe full moon will be here soon. Iâll be able to get a message to her then. Eat, so I can give you respite.â
I pressed a spoonful of porridge against his lips and thanked the Fates when he accepted the offering. As he ate, I told him how angry the corrupt king had been the last time a contingent of his men had come close to finding Ealasaid but had been cut down by the witchâs power. Eideard had punched one of the stone walls so hard, heâd broken four bones in his hand. âThe idiot forgot heâd sent Brandanna to Lobhdain the previous night. He had to suffer with those shattered bones for a full day.â
Angry shouts echoed from the main floor, but I ignored them in favor of holding the cup of water to his lips. âYou will not last long in the Mists this time. You must eat more.â
The sound that escaped his throat confused me until I saw his chest shake. Laughter? âYou tryâ¦that shite. Eideardâ¦has them put lye in it.â
âFates be damned.â I raised the bowl to my nose, sniffed, and fought not to retch. It had never occurred to me that the king would sink that low. âWhen next you see me, Iâll have a better meal for you.â
As I wrapped the blankets around him, he forced his eyes open. âThank you.â
With my hand on his cheek, I cast the spell that would send him into a type of hibernation. Nightmares plagued him there, in a realm created by ancient magic, but at least the cocoon of the Mists spared his body the pain of so many hours trapped in a frigid cell with an icy chain around his ankle.
With a final moan, he succumbed to the tug of the devil magic, and the lines around his eyes and lips relaxed. The magic drained me further, and I shivered. âOn my life, I will find a way to free you. Sleep now, Raven, and try to dream of Ealasaid.â
***
My fingers shook as I shut the cell door, and my vision wavered as I reclaimed my disguise.
âDelphine?â
Lachlanâs voice startled me, and I almost lost hold of the spell. I wrestled for control and cleared my throat twice before I risked speech.
âAye. Iâve sent the warlock into the Mists for the night. Heâs all yours.â I brushed past Lachlan, but the scent of blood caught my attention. With my foot on the first stair, I cast a brief glance at the former king. He held a crimson-stained handkerchief to his swollen lip. âWhat happened?â
âI tripped.â He shrugged, winced, and spat into the cotton square. âThe prisoner ate?â
Tripped, my arse. Lachlan braced himself against the wall, his breath stuttered at the end of his inhalation, and his left eye bore a reddish tinge that would likely turn black and blue by the end of his shift.
âSit.â I offered him a clean handkerchief. When he waved me off, I gave him my best glare. âIf you bleed all over your uniform, youâll earn more of the captainâs ire. And you certainly donât want to pass out during your watch.â
He didnât so much sit as collapse into the metal chair. The occasional hiss escaped his lips as I staunched the blood and passed a quick cooling spell over his swollen cheek, his jaw, and his ribs. âNothing broken?â My magic faltered as I met Lachlanâs gaze, and I struggled not to show him my true form.
He frowned, shifted to one side, then back again. âNo. Not this time.â His last words almost disappeared into his hands as he scrubbed his face. âLeave me. Please.â
Regret twisted like a knife deep into my gut as he struggled to straighten his shoulders. If I thought I could maintain my spell any longer, Iâd offer to stay with him, but my skin had already started to crawl with the sensation of a thousand spiders. With the moon full, the mage would be gone, renewing the spells that surrounded the castle. If I could break into her rooms, perhaps I could find a way to escape the dampening field that kept meâand Ravenâtrapped here.
âIâll relieve you a bit early tomorrow. Good night, Lachlan.â
Halfway up the stairs, his words followed me. âThatâs not my name.â
I almost rushed back to him, hoping Iâd find some part of the former king. But heâd relieved me every day for the past month and Iâd never seen a single spark of recognition. I couldnât risk the time or the danger. No. King Conall was dead. Killed by the snáthaid six long months ago. No amount of wishing could change that.
âBe well, my friend,â I whispered as I pushed through the scarred wooden door that sealed the dungeon off from the rest of the castle. âAs well as you can be.â
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Author Bio
Patricia D. Eddy lives in many worlds. Witches, vampires, and shifters inhabit one of them, military men and women fill another, with sexy Doms and strong subs carving out the final slice of her literary universe. She admits to eleven novels (though there are at least five unfinished drafts on her desk right now), all while working a full-time job, running half-marathons, and catering to the every whim of her three cats. Despite this whirlwind, she still finds time to binge watch Doctor Who all of the Netflix Marvel shows, and most recently, The Handmaid's Tale. Oh, and she hopes to one day be able to say that she plays the guitar. Right now, she mostly tortures the strings until they make noise.
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Title: Let Her Go
Author: Briana Pacheco
Genre: New Adult Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 31, 2017
Zoë Whitmore is in love with her best friend, but haunting memories and a guilty conscious have been holding her back from letting her be with him.
Owen Stevenson is unknowingly paying for the sins of his father. He doesn't understand why Zoë can't look at him for more than a few seconds or why his touch is unsettling at times. All he's ever wanted was to love her, to protect her, and to be hers, but it's not so easy. She pushes, he pulls. She hurts, he loves. Both are holding onto ghosts of their pasts and in order for them to peruse a relationship they'll have to let them go.
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Author Bio
Briana Pacheco is the author of New Adult novels (DON'T LET ME FALL, SOUNDS OF YESTERDAY, A SKY FULL OF SECRETS, and LET HER GO), a twin, a dreamer, a tattoo lover, easily swooned by accents, and a little bit of an extrovert but a whole lot of introvert. When sheâs not reading, writing or people watching, she can be found listening to music, perfecting resting bitch face, or at Dunkinâ Donuts.
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Author: Kailee Reese Samuels
Genre: Dark Dirty Romance
Release Date: October 31, 2017
I am Lucas Salvatore Raniero.
Prince of a demented Mafioso.
Golden boy of twisted Mistress.
Black ops agent fighting a horrific underworld.
Protecting a girl, I have been hired to guard.
I want to own her.
There is only one problem--
She took a contract with my mentor. My best friend.
I put her in his care for safekeeping.
In the past, she had been a bad, bad girl doing very naughty things.
And now, the men in the darkness want her dead.
I need to make her mine.
There is only one problem--
She has other plans.
And now, it is my job to change them.
In the fetish world, nothing is as it seems in the middle of a sleepy little town in Texas. The Juliet academy lies on the outskirts, keeping the hustle and bustle alive and saving Sugargrove from extinction. The carnival of carnal feasts beckons as the house of mirrors threatens to collapse, shattering everything they once knew to the ground.
Your invitation to escape awaits…
NOTE: Salt Kissed Love is the first book in the series.
However, you must have read the prerequisite world-building book – JULIET.
NOT a standalone book. Please read Juliet prior to reading Salt Kissed Love.
Kailee Reese Samuels writes dark dirty lit. Her words may cause increased heartrate, hand sweating, and other issues. You are strongly advised to enter at your own risk. Not for the faint of heart. May cause triggers in some. Others may choose to ride again and again. You have been warned.
Embracing diversity. Coffee addict. Mango lover. Blueberry fetishist. Sweet peach tea crazy. Red wine devout. Whiskey deviant. Tattooed & pierced. Loves shoes. Collects rosaries. Fanatical organizer/cleaner/list-maker. Never sleeps. Hermit and recluse.
Storyteller. KAILEE REESE SAMUELS has been spinning tales since she can remember. Her books are contemporary fiction with a no-holds-barred attitude. She adores listening to her character’s ramble and putting them into situations that push the boundaries. Creativity is the way to change. Join today >>
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Title: Make A Date Blog Tour with Harlequin
Publisher: Harlequin
Hosted by: Lady Amberâs Reviews & PR
What kind of book is your most favorite? Check out these 5 romance subgenres to learn more:
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Title: Blocked
Series: A Breakaway Novel
Author: L.P. Dover
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Date: October 31, 2017 Publisher: Random House/Loveswept
He’s got every reason to be cocky . . . until a female cuts him down to size.
I’m Dallas Easton, the best goaltender in the league. I make a damn good living playing hockey, and with women falling at my feet wherever I go, why not enjoy it? I get whatever I want, whenever I want—that is, until I come across the one player who gets the best of me on the ice.
When I try to pummel the dude, all hell breaks loose. Imagine my surprise when the helmet comes off to reveal a woman underneath. And not just any woman, but the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. Callie Davis is the complete opposite of the puck bunnies I usually go for, a good girl with sick moves and a selfless streak a mile wide. I need to make amends, but she dodges me at every turn. It doesn’t help that Callie’s brother hates my guts, or that my agent thinks she’s bad for my career.
But I could care less what they think. I can’t let our little run-in on the ice be the end of our story. Because when I set my sights on something, I won’t rest until I score.
Heart pounding, I stared him down, waiting for him to take the shot. The second he drew back his stick, I got into position, only for him to hit me right between the eyes with his glove. For a split second I lost my focus, and he slapped the puck right between my legs.
“Motherfucker,” I growled, glaring down at the glove on the ice and the puck in the goal. The worthless cunt actually had the audacity to throw his glove at my face. Kellan burst out laughing and the whole rink echoed as they cheered at my expense. Red just fucked up big time.
The others tried their luck to no avail, and then Red was back at it. I waited for him to throw the other glove, but instead, he turned and sprayed ice right up into my face, his body colliding with mine. During our fall, he hit the puck right into the goal. Rage coursed through my veins and all I could see was red . . . literally. Getting up quickly, he started back toward the others and I slid out my stick, hooking it around his ankle. I jerked him back and he fell. If he wanted to play dirty, I’d show him how dirty I could be. He tried to get up, but I pushed him back down, tossing my mask and gloves onto the ice. The others shouted and skated toward us, but I wasn’t letting Red get away with making me out to be a fool.
“Think you’re hot shit now, huh?” I spat, grabbing him by the jersey. He was smaller than me, so it wasn’t hard to flip him over and rip off his mask. Blinded by rage, I pulled my fist back, only to stop cold in my tracks. I stared at the face behind the mask, completely transfixed.
The person lying on the ice wasn’t Justin’s brother. It was a woman, and not just any woman. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Before any words could escape my lips, Justin tackled me to the ice and my breath whooshed out of my lungs as we slid to the wall.
“What the fuck is your problem? That’s my sister,” he shouted angrily. Eyes darkening, he slammed my shoulders against the wall.
Catching my breath, I looked up at him and held up my hands. “I didn’t know it was a female. I wouldn’t have touched her if I’d known.” Under most circumstances, I’d have punched him and been done, but I felt like a tool.
His nostrils flared. “You’re such a prick.”
“Justin,” his sister called out. We both looked over at her as Kellan and the other two guys helped her up. They all stared daggers at me, including her. “Let’s go.”
Justin pushed off of me and skated over to her. I got one last look at her angelic face and emerald green eyes before she turned around and disappeared off the ice.
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author L. P. Dover is a southern belle living in North Carolina with her husband and two beautiful girls. Before she began her literary journey she worked in periodontics, enjoying the wonderment of dental surgeries.
She loves to write, but she also loves to play tennis, go on mountain hikes and white water rafting, and has a passion for singing. Her two youngest fans expect a concert each and every night before bedtime, usually Christmas carols.
Dover has written countless novels, including her Forever Fae series, the Second Chances series, the Gloves Off series, the Armed & Dangerous series, the Royal Shifters series, the Society X series, the Circle of Justice series, and her standalone novel Love, Lies, and Deception. Her favorite genre to read and write is romantic suspense, but if she got to choose a setting in which to live, it would be with her faeries in the Land of the Fae.
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