Stealing the Heiress
Samantha Holt
(The Kidnap Club, #2)
Publication date: May 28th 2020
Genres: Adult, Historical Romance

She was looking for adventure…
Lady Rosamunde Stanley just never expected in the form of a kidnapping.

Well, an almost-kidnapping. The dastardly man only went and took the wrong woman!

But she soon discovers the dark, handsome man is not quite the terrible rogue she thinks him to be and she decides to put his experience to use. Her uncle has gone missing and no one believes her when she says he’s in trouble. Can she persuade Russell to help?

Russell might have kidnapped her, but he has no intention of keeping her. Even if the heat between them is driving him out of his wits and her crazy family makes him long for things a battle-hardened orphan like him should never want.

Their societal divide isn’t the only reason to keep his distance. Rosamunde is a bloody knife-carrying, picklock-wielding madwoman.

A far too appealing madwoman…

He’s not the only one struggling. Rosamunde is finding it just as difficult to fight the attraction, despite knowing it is most likely her over-active imagination leading her down this path. Somehow, she must keep her head around the most exciting man she’s ever met.

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EXCERPT:

“Stay where you are or I shall shoot,” he ordered firmly.

The driver nodded, his hands trembling around his loose grip on the reins. Russell moved around the carriage and glanced through the window to find two women clutched together. He eyed the younger one. Dark haired and attractive, just as Guy had described.

Very attractive. Russell clenched his jaw. Miss Heston looked a little older than the one-and-twenty-year-old he had expected but Guy had certainly downplayed her looks. She peered at him with wide eyes then murmured something to her older companion.

Before he pulled open the door, the woman shoved it and pushed her head out, meeting his gaze head on. Without the hazy glass between them, he had a full view of generous lips, a slightly stubborn chin, and wire framed spectacles that emphasized a warm, nutty gaze. However, there was nothing warm about the way she looked at him.

He let a brow rise. The woman was an excellent actress.

“Come with me.” He kept his voice low, just in case her companion did not know of their arrangement.

“Like hell!”

He blinked at the blasphemy. As far as he knew, the woman they were kidnapping was gently bred and trying to escape the persistent overtures of a gentleman. Still, perhaps she was trying to play the role of helpless victim for her companion’s benefit.

Very well. She wasn’t the only one who could act. He had not read every one of Shakespeare’s plays for no reason. “Come with me or I shall shoot,” he warned her, keeping his tones low and aggressive.

Miss Heston scanned the length of him and lifted her chin. “If it is money you want, I am quite wealthy.” She put her hand to a broach at the neckline of her crimson gown.

Russell’s gaze tracked the movement, unintentionally. He only realized her cleavage had caught his attention when she began to undo the gold and ruby broach. He swiftly looked away and blinked, feeling as though the image of soft skin, dark shadows, and generous curves might well be burned into his mind. Every time he blinked from now on, he suspected he would see the image there again.

Fool. He’d seen many a cleavage in his lifetime. A little glimpse of what appeared to be a most excellent cleavage wouldn’t be the undoing of him. If he could survive on the streets and forge a life for himself from nothing, he could most certainly rid himself of the image of the faintest glimpse of not even a third of a breast.

Or two.

Damn it. He blinked a few more times then scowled when she handed over the broach.

“Here, this is worth far more than you could get for me from ransom.”

He ignored it, letting his frown deepen. Why the devil was she dragging this out? Much longer and the driver might get the courage to fight him or someone would happen along, and Russell could end up getting shot.

“If that isn’t enough…” She hitched up her skirt, revealing a shapely, stocking-clad leg.

Well, the cleavage image no longer bothered him so that was something. He swallowed hard and frowned as she revealed the lacy edge of her stocking and the garter holding them up. Her hand moved slowly to the band and she tugged out a bank note.

Why the hell did this woman keep banknotes in her undergarments?

She reached for the note then curled her fingers around something else—a jeweled handle.

A damned penknife.

She grabbed it swiftly and thrust it outward. Russell dodged back, the blade skimming past his stomach and catching briefly on the fabric.

“Bloody hell, woman.” He grabbed her wrist. This play-acting was becoming far too dangerous. This needed to end now.

Author Bio:

USA Today Bestselling author Samantha Holt lives in a small village in England with her twin girls and a dachshund called Duke. If you’re not sure where to start why not try…

Amelia and the Viscount (Bluestocking Brides #1) for a fun, slightly hot shorter length read. Meet the Chadwick sisters and follow their adventures in each of their standalone stories.

You’re the Rogue That I Want (Rogues of Redmere #1) is a longer read with heat, witty dialogue, a feisty heroine and adventure. All books in the series are standalone.

Sinful Confessions is the first in the Cynfell Brothers Series. These are all novella length and standalone–ideal for a quick dip into the world of the sexy Cynfell brothers.

Wake Me With a Kiss is a sweet, fairytale romance. Twists on Beauty and the Beast and Cinderella are also available if you love a clean, fun read.

To Steal a Highlander’s Heart is a full length dive into the world of sexy highlanders. For those who love braw Scots, some steamy scenes, and medieval romance, this series is a perfect escape.

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Zinnia
Christina Bauer
(Angelbound Offspring #3)
Published by: Monster House Books
Publication date: July 30th 2019
Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult

As the last dragon shifter, I live alone, hiding in one of Earth’s sacred deserts. My human handlers tell me that I have no parents, no name, and no purpose other than to train for battle and one day become a vessel for the reincarnation of Chimera, the greatest dragon shifter of all. Sadly, Chimera’s rebirth will mean my own death. But my handlers say this sacrifice is a noble fate that will rebuild the dragon shifter world.

I shall die on my seventeenth birthday. That’s five days from now.

Then I hear music thumping across the desert. I take my mortal form, follow the sound, and find humans dancing in what they call a rave. There is a stage and a rock band. One thing quickly becomes clear: Unlike the audience, the musicians are dragon shifters, just like me. And one of them, the guitar player Rhodes, makes my knees turn watery. The lead singer, Kaps, has something strangely familiar about her.

It all adds up to one conclusion: My handlers lied to me. I’m not the last of my kind. Memories reappear. I had parents once. Portia and Tempest. I even had a name. Zinnia. Perhaps I have a reason to live as well. I step past the dancing humans to confront the players.

I will find out the full truth, no matter what.

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EXCERPT:

Zinnia – Age Nine

Chapter One

Tucking my unicorn comforter under my chin, I come to a big decision.

Naptime is for losers.

I may only be nine—well, almost ten—but I know one thing: there are way too many rules for dragon princesses like me. For starters, we’re supposed to take naps every bleeding afternoon. No way. Napping is for babies. That’s why I’m sneaking out today to see my best friend, LT.

Twisting under my covers, I check out my bedroom. There are pink curtains, white furniture, and the royal crest of Furonium over the door. My parents rule all the dragon shifters, so that crest-thingy hangs everywhere. My sisters, Kaps and Huntress, lie in their bunk beds across the room. So you know, my family stays in human form most of the time. No dragon caves for us, thank you very much. Those places have bats.

Squinting, I look at my sisters more closely. Are they really out of it? Can I sneak away? Like always, Kaps lays half-off the top bunk. Wisps of brown hair hang over her mouth, blowing in and out with her snores. I shake my head.

Even asleep, my twin is noisy.

Meanwhile, Huntress rests curled up on her side. Her shoulders rise and fall silently. Huntress never lets out a sound, even when she’s snoozing.

That settles it.

Both my sisters are totally zonked.

Time to go.

Author Bio:

Christina Bauer knows how to tell stories about kick-ass women. In her best selling Angelbound series, the heroine is a part-demon girl who loves to fight in Purgatory’s Arena and falls in love with a part-angel prince. This young adult best seller has driven more than 500,000 ebook downloads and 9,000 reviews on Goodreads and retailers. The first three books in the series are now available as audiobooks on Audible and iTunes.
Bauer has also told the story of the Women’s March on Washington by leading PR efforts for the Massachusetts Chapter. Her pre-event press release—the only one sent out on a major wire service—resulted in more than 19,000 global impressions and redistribution by over 350 different media entities including the Associated Press.

Christina graduated from Syracuse University’s Newhouse School with BA’s in English along with Television, Radio, and Film Production. She lives in Newton, MA with her husband, son, and semi-insane golden retriever, Ruby.

Stalk Christina On Social Media – She Loves It!

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The Name of Red
Beena Khan
Publication date: May 15th 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Literary Fiction, Romance

Two strangers on the same path.
Survivors. Companions.
They will be each other’s salvation.

On a rainy, winter night, a mysterious woman in a red dress seeking shelter comes inside the restaurant Kabir was busy working in —primarily the bar— and night after night, drink after drink, she comes back to the same spot. That is where he sees her for the first time.

Hundreds of patrons around her try to speak with her daily, but she dismisses them. It appears she wants to remain in a blissful peace alone with her booze and books. After seeing the mysterious woman reading a book, and because of his shy nature, Kabir gains entrance into her life by anonymously leaving books with notes for her.

The Name of Red is the story of two strangers, two different personalities who meet on a winter, rainy night who challenge each other. They have a connection which blossoms into a friendship due to their fondness of books. But they both have secrets that can bind them together or threaten their newfound relationship forever.

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Book trailer:

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EXCERPT:

The restaurant Ferdaus was filled with a buzzing crowd.

The smoke around the people twisted and formed curls, illuminated under the bar lights. The atmosphere was a hazy cloud, lingering against their clothes. Several people came in seeking shelter from the pouring rain outside. The customers of the restaurant turned to look at the entrance door- bell jingling. They glanced at the large crowd coming as the glass door was pulled open, and they watched as someone newstepped in behind them.

The woman walked into the bar for the first time in the winter rain.

She didn’t have an umbrella on her; her little sleeveless dress ended at her ankles, fully drenched. Her wet dress clung to her body, showcasing the outlines of her curves. In one hand, she was carrying the skirt of her dress. Suddenly, she let it go, and her long, bare arms moved upwards as she tried to fix her damp hair which had darkened in intensity due to the rain. It fell past her shoulders, the strands sticking to her face. She attempted to comb through the tangles with her fingertips.

The men watched her movements hungrily, their eager faces drawn to her and at the sight of someone new. Their eyes trailed from her face, to her wet body, then back to the movements of her hands entwined in her hair. Under her arm, she carried a book and a trench coat. It appeared strange she wasn’t wearing the coat when it was pouring outside and freezing in the middle of November. Men were left mesmerized by her, and she turned heads as she walked by. Something radiated from within her, drawing the men around her in.

The women who were with some of these men noticed their gaze on the unfamiliar woman. Now they stared at her with jealousy and anger.

Who is she? they wondered.

Author Bio:

Beena Khan lives in a suburb in Queens, New York in her apartment. She's's a Literary Fiction Novelist and Poetess. She is 27 years old and from Azad Kashmir, Pakistan. She's an immigrant who moved to New York when she was five years old. She currently holds a Masters Degree in Developmental Psychology from Cuny School of Professional Sciences. She enjoys reading, writing, and netflixing.

The Name of Red is her debut novel.

Her website is www.beenakhan.com.

Sign up for her newsletter below where you can subscribe for book news, writing tips, and exclusive content such as, upcoming releases, cover reveals, ARCS, giveaways, and book trailers!

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Elephant
Natalie Rodriguez
Publication date: May 29th 2020
Genres: Contemporary, Young Adult

Summer of 2006. Four childhood best friends. A family secret.

After a strange encounter leaves him hospitalized, a timid teenage boy named Matt “Matty” Smith comes home to a continuous series of events met with anxiety, depression, and PTSD.

Under the guardianship of his grandma, Lucia, Matt lives with unspoken questions about his grandfather and parents. The elephant in the room. As Matt develops over the summer, the secrets only grow more profound and complex. Will the answers ever come? While searching for answers, Matt and his three childhood best friends encounter the meanings of love, forgiveness, and fate.

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EXCERPT:

“SO MUCH FOR ‘I’M ON A DIET.’”

Derek stuffed another soy sauce-loaded Italian meatball into his mouth.

“Shut up, midget!” Jamie retorted and set another pepperoni sausage olive pizza slice onto her plate.

“That’s so rude.” Lisa shoved a spoonful of chicken manicotti into her mouth. “You’re like calling her fat.”

“She’s the one who’s always saying, ‘I’m so fat! I’m so fat! Guys do I look fat or phat?!”

“Oh,” Lucia chuckled, “neither one of you needs to lose weight. In all honesty, you can all gain a few pounds.”

She peered at Jamie, who smiled. “Thanks.” It was in the eyes.

“Well.” Matt chewed off his last bite of a sweet and spicy boneless chicken wing from the sticky orange sauce on his fingers. “Who’s next?”

“Mine.” Jamie handed over a sealed envelope. On the front, “MATTY” was handwritten in bold navy-blue ink.

“Thanks.” As soon as their hands brushed, a shock of electricity ran through his body. “Uh, thanks.” It was all he had thought of—that spark between them and taking an extra look at Jamie; her eyes were still on him like a hawk’s.

Everyone sat at the edge of their dining chairs. Lucia took a sip from her glass of red wine, as she leveled up the digital camera in the other hand (mad pro skills). Matt glanced at their eager faces, although Derek’s big ol’ goofy grin held his attention for a moment longer. The boy sure had some crooked ass teeth, to be truthful. It was also unsettling that Derek’s grin grew wider like a mannequin in a window display and not the pretty looking ones either; more of the Stepford wives with clown makeup and pumped lips and cheekbones.

Matt opened the envelope and into his hands spilled two gift cards: Tillys, and iTunes. For some reason, he sighed with relief.

“See.” Jamie leaned back in her chair. “I can follow your crazy, ‘Only gift cards’ rule. We all remember last year.”

Lucia snorted and covered her mouth to prevent the wine from spilling out. But a few splashes sputtered through her nostrils.

“Yeah,” Lisa added on, “those clothes were all baggy in the wrong places.”

“You looked like a damn hobo!” Derek cackled.

“Thanks, Jam,” Matt said with a bit overzealous smile.

Shit, he thought to himself. Motherfuckin’ shit.

He turned away and placed her gift on the small pile: gift cards Derek got him for Chick’s Sporting Goods and Best Buy with Target and Starbucks gift cards Lisa got him.

“Thank you…”

“Anytime, Matty.” And that time, Jamie smiled back. Holy, moly! She had pretty little teeth too.

“I’m done!” Derek backed up his chair and unbuttoned his Levis to air out his potbelly. That was when Jamie broke focus with Matt.

“Derek—put that thing away!” she screeched.

“Mini Buddha’s belly!” Lisa chanted and wiggled her arms over her head like a gorilla.

“Derek…”

“Sorry, Lucia.” He scooted his chair back in, which gave the floor a few squeaks, so the red tablecloth concealed his stomach—his VERY pale, sole patched, Buddha’s belly.

“Well, I don’t know about you four but I’m tired.” Lucia swayed to her feet; her fingers went white as she clutched a hold of her glass. Matt eyed that second empty wine glass like it would come alive. “I’ll see you all.”

“Wait,” Derek interjected. “Aren’t we supposed to—”

“SHHHHH…”

They had their fingers pressed to their lips. Jamie and Lisa even glowered his way. Matt’s eyes broadened with horror, as his head drooped closer to the table. It was done, all over.

Clueless at first, Derek’s eyes shot wide open as though struck by lightning. “OH—”

“SHHHHH!”

“Matt,” Lucia said, her speech troublesome. “is this…”

The pieces of confetti on the table were shinier than ever. Matt rolled one of them between his thumb and middle finger. The confetti was a lustrous blue circle, although it felt like blazing hot fire. The creators of confetti had it all wrong. They should have been red—a mighty, burning passionless red.

“Matt…”

“I want you to…” On that last deep breath, he looked up at his grandma. “We’re going to the cemetery—”

“Goodnight, Matt—”

“Why don’t you ever want to talk about it?!”

Jamie, Derek, and Lisa moved robotically. The lower halves of their bodies went paralyzed, as their eyes rolled side to side to catch glimpses of each other and the Smiths. By now, Matt was on his feet, his fists planted on the table. The tablecloth was scrunched up as he leaned forward, steadying his balance on his elbows. His pulse raced throughout his body, rigid as stone and hot as lava.

“Why can’t you let it go,” he pled unintentionally. “I did.”

“Matt, I’m very…” Her back was to them. Lucia lingered in the dining room archway, but by the sniffles and refusal to turn around, it was obvious. She did everything she could to cover up the waterworks; she even tugged at her sleeve (long sleeves shirts were all she ever wore). “I’m very tired. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Off her glance, she was gone. Her red sea of swimming pool-eyes was no longer in their sight. His sight.

Jamie, Derek, and Lisa averted their attention away from Matt. Suddenly, he felt…funny. Something seemed to boil at the pit of his stomach. Whatever it was, it shot up to his chest and formed a sour taste in the back of his mouth, like he had just eaten something spoiled, weeks after its expiration date.

“Matty…”

Her fingers drifted over his fist like a cloak. Matt’s fingers unfolded, but he refused to look at her. It was obvious—the strain and worry look in her eyes, as she caressed his hand. His shoulders shot up, about an inch from touching his earlobes. The twinge of sorrow prolonged in his eyes and strengthened the veins to pop right out; red, so very red from the haggardness and stress, all from another wasted amount of energy from a big waste of time. Every year, he thought to himself. Every year on my birthday.

Author Bio:

Natalie Rodriguez is an award-winning writer, director, and mental health and anti-violence/trauma advocate based in Los Angeles, CA. In 2014, she graduated from California State University, Fullerton with a Bachelor of Arts in Radio-Television-Film. Her first experience in entertainment was an internship at the Conan O'Brien show and Peter Guber's Mandalay Pictures, where she worked at the offices of producers, Matthew Rhodes ("Cherry," "Men in Black: International") and Academy Award-winner, Cathy Schulman ("Sharp Objects," "Crash").

Natalie was also a panelist at events, including Google, Hispanicize, and YouTube, where she has shared her story as a writer, filmmaker, and a female working in the entertainment industry. Some of her previous writing work can be found in publications such as the HuffPost Blog, Thrive Global, Anxiety Resource Center, Opposing Views, NowThis News, Zooey Deschanel's Hello Giggles, The Mighty, and more.

In 2017, she founded her production company, Extraordinary Pictures, focusing on both films, television, digital series, and social issue projects. The company has a list of projects in its roaster, including development on a TV sitcom, "The D," which placed in top-ten for best comedy screenplays at Stage 32. At the moment, Natalie's second directorial feature film, "Howard Original," is in post-production and set for an August 2020 release date on YouTube Premium. The film is based on the award-winning short film about a washed-up screenwriter named Howard, who encounters more than just selling a story, a studio rejection, and writer's block when his pet cat comes to life.

Natalie's directorial feature film, "The Extraordinary Ordinary," which she also wrote, produced, and was the executive producer on, is making its round through the festival circuit. The film deals with young adults, mental health awareness, and the aftermath of trauma. The film won 'Best Film About Women's Empowerment' at the Glendale International Film Festival and scored nominations in Best Director, Best Female Director, and Best Picture. The film also had a sold-out world premiere screening at the Los Angeles Diversity Film Festival (LADFF), winning 'Best Performance' by the leading actress, Maddison Bullock. Further details on the project can be found @theextraordfilm, including recent film festival awards and nominations.

Her other screenplays and films have also been featured and placed in the final rounds at HollyShorts Film Festival, NALIP: Latino Lens Film Festival, ShortsTV, Stage 32: Comedy Screenplay, Beverly Hills Film Festival, Culver City Film Festival, Indie Night Film Festival, Hollywood Screenplay Contest, Table Read My Screenplay - Austin Film Festival, and others.

Natalie was most recently an ambassador for Jen Zeano Designs (JZD), a clothing company in association with USA Networks. While she continues to build her creative background, Natalie is always open to collaborating with other artists and advocates. Currently, she awaits the publication of her first young adult novel this April 2020, "Elephant," a story about four childhood best friends who uncover a family secret. The book was also a finalist at Clare Books' the Binge-Watching Cure II contest for 'Best Novel.'.

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The Dark Awakening
D.L. Blade
(Chosen Coven #1)
Publication date: October 2nd 2018
Genres: Paranormal, Young Adult

Get ready for a new kind of witch—she’s about to save humanity.

Haunting secrets, witches, vampires, werewolves, love, betrayal, & twists you won’t see coming!

Mercy’s life has devolved into a string of bad events. A brutal beating that nearly stole her life, a dangerous stalker lurking in the shadows, and a car accident, where the man who rescued her disappears right before her eyes.

But this man who she thought was a hallucination, tracks her down at a nearby cove, and claims they were once in love from another time. Another century. But Mercy has no memory of this world he shares, and instinctively doesn’t trust him. He also reveals to her a life-changing secret—she’s an ancient witch, vampires are real, and she’s destined to destroy them.

There’s also the troubling discovery that her blood is lusted after by the undead, and a sadistic vampire leader sets his eyes on her, and will stop at nothing until he takes Mercy as his own.

Mercy needs to fight. Fight for her life, fight to discover the truth, fight to remember who—or what—she really is before it’s too late.

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EXCERPT:

They were there in the shadows again. This was the third time this week I had thought someone was watching me.

The last few weeks, I’d heard the rustling of leaves and the crackling sound of old fallen branches beneath someone’s feet, or the hairs at the back of my neck would stand straight because I knew someone stood silently behind me. Last night wasn’t any different. I exited my car after an exhausting day at work and heard what sounded like a low, deep exhale coming from the forest next to Lily’s house. I swiftly turned around, fumbling with the flashlight on my phone, but when the light pierced the darkness, the sound stopped.

Tonight, it was a silhouette behind my aunt Lily’s fence in the backyard. It wasn’t someone walking by with their dog or a neighbor taking out their trash. They were standing there, staring, as I walked to the sink to rinse my dinner bowl. I wasn’t going to tell her again. She’d just tell me what she’d told me last time I brought it up. She’d say I was just seeing things and that it was normal to feel this way after trauma.

“Your turn, Mercy,” Lily said. Her voice pulled my gaze from the window.

“I’m coming,” I said, taking one last glance toward the silhouette.

They were gone.

Author Bio:

D.L Blade grew up in southern California where she studied at The California Healing Arts College for massage therapy, then working as a Massage Practitioner for thirteen years. She now lives in Colorado, where she worked in the real estate business for a time, before deciding to focus on family and writing.

She has always loved writing, concentrating on poetry rather than prose when she was younger. That changed however, when she had a dream one night that inspired her debut novel, 'The Dark Awakening.'

In D.L. Blade's spare time, she enjoys a wide variety of hobbies, including reading, attending rock concerts, playing pool, wine tasting, and exploring new vegan restaurants in Denver.

In the future, she hopes to continue to write exciting novels that will captivate her readers and bring them into the world that she created using her imagination.

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Gilded Ruins
Chantal Gadoury
(Blinding Night #2)
Published by: Parliament House
Publication date: May 12th 2020
Genres: Mythology, New Adult, Paranormal, Retelling, Romance

The Story Continues. . .

Summer and Darce are summoned by the order of Zeus himself to travel to the home of the Gods: Mount Olympus, where they’re to face even more ancient Gods and Goddesses.

Summer braces to confront her mother again, illuminating secrets about the truth of her tragic pasts, while also persuading Zeus to allow her to stay with the God of the Underworld, her true love – Darce.

Aboard Poseidon’s luxury yacht, Summer meets her mythological family, while also uncovering what exactly happened to her past lives – and the true roles her mother and Darce played.

When Darce and Summer suddenly find themselves separated, Summer must find her inner power and unite them together, before her mortal time runs out.

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Sequel to:

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EXCERPT:

“Summer,” a warm, gentle voice whispered against my ear. Their breath fluttered across my flush skin like the wings of a butterfly. It was warm and sweet smelling. I curled deeper into the blankets, turning my chin into the soft pillow.

“Summer,” the voice said again, as a soft hand slid over my hip, and down around my stomach. It pulled me back against it, crushing me tenderly into a cushioned wall. Lips brushed over my exposed neck, leaving a small kiss in its wake.

I slowly opened my eyes, taking in the darkness of the room. What time was it? I felt the strength of the arms around me, holding me tightly. Darce.

“Darce?” I asked groggily.

“Hmmm…” he hummed, nestling my neck. My body began to react, welcoming the warmth of him. Everything inside of me wanted him, invited him—all except my brain. It screamed for me to turn around, to confront him about the stunt he had just pulled out on the dance floor. Minthe. Dancing. Her wicked, smug grin.

“What—” I untangled myself from him, turning to my side to face his dark silhouette. He sucked in a breath as I pulled the blankets up around myself. “What are you doing?”

“He pulled a hand through his hair; I could feel his gaze on me even in the darkness.

“You disappeared.”

“You were occupied.” I didn’t even try to hide the venom in my words.

“I was doing what I had been asked to do,” He retorted curtly.

I didn’t know how to respond. I remained still, curling my fingers into the blankets.

“Do you think I enjoyed a moment of it?” He asked after a long, silent moment. The rumble in his chest vibrated against the bed as his voice deepened. I shivered and bit my bottom lip. Of course he hadn’t. I had known but. . .

“I saw you both and it felt like. . .like you were allowing her to win.”

“Win?” Darce asked. I shook my head, though, I knew he couldn’t see me.

“She knew what she was doing.”

“As did I,” Darce interjected.

The sound of my heart was racing in my ears, and I pushed myself up to sit. After a moment, I finally found my voice again.

“But why?” There were so many whys. Why had they asked him to dance with her? What did they have to gain from the interaction? What were they planning with Darce? With Minthe? With me? My head was spinning with so many questions that it was beginning to ache. I had already thought of a thousand different ways Minthe could have seduced him or touched him, and the whole thing made me even more angry. Jealous. I bet I could give Hera a run for her money in the jealousy department.

“Why?” He asked, echoing my question.

“Why did they ask you to? What did they. . .” but I couldn’t bring myself to continue. I couldn’t become like her. I had to trust Darce, now more than ever. I felt the smoothness of his hand slide over my knee and come to rest there.

“I will do whatever is needed to bring peace. To bring us the freedom to—”

“She wants the Underworld,” I interjected. “There is no peace with her around.”

“She just wants your throne,” he corrected.

“Just,” I scoffed. “She wants you too.” I added, drawing my knees up to my chest. I wrapped my arms around my legs and lowered my chin to the tops of my knees.

“She can’t have me,” he replied softly, drawing me closer against him. He tugged at my waist, drawing me underneath him. “I belong to no one but you.”

His whisper was husky and warm against my cheek, and it sent a shiver of pleasure down my spine. I gasped with surprise as his hands drew my legs to rest on either side of his. He was so warm, and I felt myself melting into him. I knew what he was doing, and my body suddenly craved his. It felt strange to want him as I did, all the while being surrounded by Gods and Goddesses who were seemingly plotting against us.

“All of this is such a dangerous game,” I murmured as I felt his thumb hook around the waistband of my sleeping shorts.

“I like dangerous games,” he said with a chuckle as he pressed a tender kiss against my stomach. I sucked in a breath, trying to concentrate on what I wanted to say. We were walking around on this boat with targets on our backs. We were far from safe—and he knew that. We wouldn’t be until we reached the depths of the Underworld again.

But his mouth was so hot against my skin and it was bliss.

“Not me,” I said, shaking my head, pressing my hands against his bare chest.

“Them! The game they’re playing. The things I’ve learned. . .” I sighed as he nipped my hip bone. Tears welled in my eyes as I sucked in a breath.

“I just want to go home.”

Darce paused, his warm palm cupped my cheek.

“I know,” he said tenderly and leaned forward to press a kiss against my temple. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, burrowing my nose into the crook of his neck.

“We’ll go home, I promise,” he said gently.

“Together,” I reiterated as I traced a line down the length of his back. He tensed and nodded beside me.

“Together,” he finished as his hands went to work, swiftly removing my shirt and shorts. I let myself sink into him, and the temporary comfort he could provide. It was easier to hide the truth in the shadows of the night. And in the darkness of his arms, I allowed myself to disappear.

Author Bio:

Amazon Best Selling Author, Chantal Gadoury, is a 2011 graduate from Susquehanna University with a Bachelor's Degree in Creative Writing. Since graduation, she has published several titles, including "The Songs in Our Hearts" with 48Fourteen Publishing, and "Between the Sea and Stars," "WinterDream," and "Blinding Night" with Parliament House Press. Chantal first started writing stories at the age of seven and continues to love writing today. Chantal is also the Co-Founder and Senior Editor of the Parliament House Press. Writing and sharing books with the world has become a dream come true! When she's not working, she enjoys painting, drinking lots of DD Iced Coffee, and watching Disney classics. Chantal lives in Muncy, Pennsylvania with her family.

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Grave Humor
R.J. Blain
(Magical Romantic Comedies #10)
Publication date: May 12th 2020
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Paranormal, Romance

Most days, Anwen regrets working at a funeral home despite the good pay. With the residents no longer inclined to stay in their coffins where they belong, she’s got her hands full making sure everyone follows the rules:

In the funeral home, there is no screaming, no murdering, no mutilation, no possessions, no kidnappings, no resurrections, and no cursing of any type. Be quiet and stay polite.

The day Old Man McGregor decides to take a walk and disturbs her peace, Anwen learns there’s a lot more to the basement in the funeral home than a vampire and a handsome gentleman on ice.

If she’s not careful, she’ll learn first-hand why ‘eternally yours’ is the most potent of threats.

Warning: this novel contains romance, humor, bodies, shenanigans, and mythological puppies. Proceed with caution.

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EXCERPT:

Lemon smelled so much better than rot. As far as the restless dead went, Old Man McGregor hadn’t left me with too much of a mess to clean. He’d stayed mostly intact, limiting his oozing to a spot here and there. It took me twenty minutes to erase the evidence he’d gotten out of his coffin and taken a walk.

Five minutes later, Direct Hammel and his merry band of somberly dressed assistants arrived. Why did Direct Hammel need four men to stand around? Most viewings, even the big ones where the whole town showed up, only needed two attendants. The rest of the time, I could handle the work without any help at all.

While the viewings sometimes had upwards of the town’s full three hundred people, I couldn’t think of a single funeral with more than twenty attendees since I’d started working at the place. The old stayed, the young left, and with a world full of magic to discover, who wanted to stay in Sunset, Alabama? If my college fund hadn’t been bled dry on drugs and hookers, I would’ve been on the first bus out along with the other six seniors in my class.

“Any problems?” the director asked, sniffing the air.

I bet he smelled the lemon and wanted to know why I’d been cleaning. “No problems,” I replied. Any other day, Old Man McGregor rising and coming out of his coffin for a chat would’ve counted as a problem, but I was too worn and tired to care. Like with all things, problems were relative. If the restless dead hiding in his coffin decided to cause a problem, I’d back up and watch the fireworks. “I finished my other work for the morning, so I cleaned to make certain everything was ready for the viewing, sir.”

“Good job. Our clients will arrive soon. We’ll handle the rest from here. Mr. McGregor’s family is rather conservative, so if you could handle inventorying and cleaning the preparation and refrigeration rooms, that would be useful. Otherwise, go home.”

I didn’t need a diploma to read the writing on the wall. If I went home, I wouldn’t be invited back to work, which meant someone hadn’t done their job cleaning the basement.

The funeral home went through inspections once a month to keep its license, and we were due to have a government worker poking around the place. Plastering a smile on my face, I nodded. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me, sir.”

“Good. Call the main line if there are any problems.”

Once again, I read the writing on the wall: if I had any problems during the viewing, I would be in need of a new job.

I struggled to maintain a neutral, professional expression. To keep guests from wandering into the restricted parts of the funeral home, Director Hammel locked the stairwell door and turned off the lift. I’d spend the next six hours in the basement. After the surge of restless dead and corpse possessions, the funeral home boasted reinforced lower level walls and doors, fashioned of a mix of concrete and steel to keep the bodies contained should they decide to get up and take a walk.

Fortunately, excluding Old Man McGregor, we only had two bodies in storage, and John Doe had been in our freezer since before I’d been born. If he decided to get up, they’d hear my screams in the next state. While the rules kept changing, one thing stayed the same: the older the corpse, the stronger the undead it became. I hadn’t seen Mr. Doe, but I sometimes heard Director Hammel talk about him in hushed, fearful tones.

Nothing scared Director Hammel except our John Doe.

The other body we had didn’t worry anyone; the vampire wasn’t going anywhere until someone reattached his limbs and revived him with a lot of blood. I wasn’t sure why we kept the vampire on ice, but someone from the CDC came once a month, along with the funeral home inspector, to make sure he remained as alive as an undead got. I’d gotten to take a look at the vampire, as Director Hammel wanted to make certain I knew to avoid the sleepers in the freezer.

All in all, I didn’t care about either corpse. Unless I put my throat to the vampire’s mouth, he couldn’t hurt me. As for John Doe, I wasn’t sure what I thought about him.

While I wanted to curse over my foul luck, I kept smiling, grabbed my purse and coat, and descended into the basement. I made it all of two steps before the lock clicked behind me.

“Asshole,” I muttered, shaking my head and reaching for switches. I flipped three of the five, bathing the stairwell and landing below in a yellowed light. The stench of embalming fluid burned my nose, and I turned on the ventilation fans so I wouldn’t suffocate before the end of the viewing.

When I found out who had left the basement a reeking hell hole, there’d be a third body in the freezer. In prison, I could study and pretend I had a future, and I’d do so on the government’s dime until they kicked me out and made me finish my term doing community service. Curling my lip in a snarl, I stomped down the steps and aimed for the disposal bin meant for the latex gloves. I caught it with my foot and launched the damned thing through the open doorway.

It crashed onto the metal table bolted to the preparation room floor.

“What’s the fucking point of having a three-inch thick containment door if it’s open all the time? I’m surrounded by brain-dead idiots.”

“Yes, you are,” a husky, deep voice replied. “I was wondering who they’d sacrifice to me first. I knew the scarecrow would hide, but I thought he’d betray the whiner first. How disappointing.”

Author Bio:

RJ Blain suffers from a Moleskine journal obsession, a pen fixation, and a terrible tendency to pun without warning.

In her spare time, she daydreams about being a spy. Her contingency plan involves tying her best of enemies to spinning wheels and quoting James Bond villains until satisfied.

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