Protecting Tova
Havana Wilder
Publication date: December 4th 2020
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance

Escaping the tormenting demons of her past was all Tova wanted, but someone has other plans.

An Internally tormented girl
An Unexpected protector
One deadly hunt

Tova, sexually and physically abused as a child, lives in a territory protected by a thick forest and stone wall. She has no desire to leave, and not because of the savages and mutated beasts that roam beyond the walls…

On a quest to deliverance, her plan has always been to learn self-defense and to learn how to protect those who can’t protect themselves while overcoming the demons of her past.

Meanwhile, an unsuspecting heartthrob catches her attention. Not knowing the secrets that lay deep within, he anxiously wants to pursue her, but someone else has other plans for her.

In the midst of all the mayhem, does their relationship end before it can begin?

Protecting Tova is an exciting journey as Tova fights to forget her past in a dystopian world inundated by threats, mysteries, and treachery.

***This is an adrenaline rush novel with a mixture of fantasy and paranormal/supernatural. Perfect for fans of sarcastic heroines, protective males, and instant attraction.***

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Author Bio:

Havana has always had a vivid imagination and is an avid dreamer. As a child, she used to have a goal of making her mom laugh as much as she could by coming up with some very outlandish stories. As she grew up she discovered her love of fantasy romances and dreamt about becoming an author herself. So, she decided to put her dreams into reality by becoming an author herself.
Be sure to follow her on Instagram and Facebook for updates at Havana Wilder.

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 N*E*W   R*E*L*E*A*S*E

What better way to begin a New Year than by finding your soul mate.

Eight paranormal and contemporary romance stories from best selling authors celebrate the New Year and Native American folklore in this charitable collection, benefiting The Friends of Pine Ridge Reservation. From werewolf and bear shifter stories to romantic suspense, readers will fall in love along with these memorable heroes and heroines.

To learn more about the Pine Ridge Reservation, or to donate, please visit their website.

Grab your copy today!

~ Contributing Authors ~

Trinity Blacio

Kate Richards

Jamie K. Schmidt

Barb Shuler

Lia Violet

Sharla Wylde

 Tianna Xander

Wendi Zwaduk

~~ Meet the stories & authors in this collection ~~

Moon of Hard Times by Trinity Blacio 

Night-Bird Tomex heart was black and ripped to shreds, till one day he heard the Meadowlark sing her song. But it wasn’t the song that had him searching for her, no it was the massive Eagle inside him, calling telling him it was time to move on. His true mate had arrived…Could he move on?

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New Year’s Hope by Kate Richards 

Coming home for the holidays is always a jolt to the system. No matter how they stay still in our minds, those left behind always change and move on. Sometimes in ways never dreamed possible.

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The Joining of The Seasons by Jamie K. Schmidt 

With the skinwalker threat still hanging over the Navajo town of Serenity, Alpha Nizhoni Stalking Wolf must keep her tribe safe while settling into her new relationships with beta wolf Sike and the elusive Alpha wolf Tulley.

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The Hidden Prince by Barb Shuler

Loneliness. Heartache. Censure. 

His time of retribution—revenge grows closer. With the new moon coming, Flynn’s days away from taking back what's rightfully his. His pack. His lands and the mate he thought he’d never have. His only obstacle; the brother who stole it from him.

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The Wolf Twin by Lia Violet

Craig Tso realizes he is the only one who can help werewolf Dr. Marciela Grey as she faces a health crisis. He also realizes she is his mate.  Will they be able to find love together in the New Year?

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Bear Dreams by Sharla Wylde

To repay a debt, Tasha Hunter must save a stranger. To survive a blizzard, Matt Two Bears must rely on a human. Can they overcome their instincts and trust each other?

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Willow’s Warrior by Tianna Xander 

Abandoned by his mother at birth, Waya Jones has lived life on his terms, until he meets a gorgeous, curvy woman alone and in a drug lord’s crosshairs. When the wolf inside him insists he must save the woman at any cost, the warrior listens to the beast within and takes on the role of her protector.

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Starting Over by Wendi Zwaduk

Music soothes Levon Blackfoot’s soul. He lives for the rush of the crowd and the high of performing, but something’s missing. Good thing it’s almost the New Year, the Haudeshaun. There’s no better a time to evaluate and pursue the woman he loves—Callie. If she can open her heart, they can have a second chance.

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The Flame Game
R.J. Blain
(Magical Romantic Comedies, #12)
Publication date: November 24th 2020
Genres: Adult, Urban Fantasy

Bailey and Quinn are back for one last action-filled adventure!

A corrupt police chief is on the loose, and it falls to Bailey and Quinn to put an end to him before he finds some way to weaponize the spreading rabies virus, create yet another batch of potent gorgon dust, and otherwise wreck Bailey’s happily ever after.

With a pair of orphaned gorgon whelps to care for, more animals she can shake a stick at, and her husband’s determination to make the world a perfect place for her, Bailey has her hands full. To protect everyone she loves, she must embrace her dubious role as the Calamity Queen and rain hell down on those who stand in her way.

The Flame Game is on.

Warning: this novel contains two fire-breathing unicorns on a napalm bender, action, adventure, chaos, mayhem, humor, and bodies. Proceed with caution.

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EXCERPT:

The father I hadn’t met until this morning walked me down the aisle, but Quinn’s hands holding mine kept me from running in terror at so many people witnessing me marrying someone like him. I questioned everything about my odd life. Me, the Calamity Queen, marry him? It took a few moments to remember I’d already married him once. I’d asked that same question then, too. He’d laughed, and then he’d goaded me until I’d done what he wanted, which involved me marrying him.

Crazy man.

There’d been a bunch of witnesses to that courthouse madness, too, and I’d survived through it mostly unscathed. Most of the witnesses to our first wedding had been too busy brawling with each other to pay any attention to me signing the papers that gave Samuel Leviticus Quinn certain rights to me, but that didn’t matter.

Reminding myself his signature on the same papers meant I got rights to him did a good job of steadying my rattled nerves.

No matter how many times I failed to tell him properly, I loved him.

To endure so many people staring at me, all I needed to do was remember a few key things. After the vows came the food, after the food came a show of gorgons petrifying each other during a brawl, and after the brawling came the pampering in our suite, which would be devoid of children for at least twenty-four hours, courtesy of an assortment of parents and grandparents.

I needed a lot longer than twenty-four hours to come to terms with having two pairs of parents.

One set hated me.

The other, who I’d learned about just yesterday, loved me.

I needed a lot longer than twenty-four hours to adjust to my life’s new circumstances.

First, I needed to survive through my second wedding. Tomorrow, I would resume my quest to be the best mother possible for our pair of orphaned gorgon children, who would spend the rest of the day and most of tomorrow socializing with the other gorgons in attendance, most of whom were related to my husband in one way or another.

Staring at Quinn and refusing to acknowledge anyone else in the Venetian’s canals would help with that, at least until we made it to the food portion of our wedding day. Once the food came around, I didn’t care who watched me devour steak, steak, and even more steak.

The fire-breathing, meat-eating unicorn in me loved steak almost as much as I loved the man who’d turned my life upside down on me.

My husband made no effort to hide his amusement, and he squeezed my hands while we both ignored the minister, who did a pretty damned good job of impersonating Elvis while reading the scripted sermon. He went on and on about the responsibilities of married couples, husbands, wives, mothers, and fathers, along with the death-do-we-part stuff I doubted applied to us at all thanks to our mishmash of crazy relatives, most of whom were in attendance.

A few too many gods and goddesses for my comfort joined almost every damned cop in our precinct to witness us confess our love to each other. Or, at a minimum, blurt ‘I do’ in some horrifically embarrassing fashion.

I had trouble with the basics, and nothing had changed since I’d married my gorgon-incubus doohickey the first time.

“You can look somewhere other than me if you want,” Quinn whispered, leaning closer to me.

I debated stealing a kiss before the official kissing portion of the ceremony, although the dumb veil kept getting in my way. Quinn had already shunted the damned thing back, but it kept falling wherever it wanted, to the point I wanted to light it on fire.

Nobody had warned me how much of a pain in the ass wedding dresses could be. And the heels? The heels might do me in. What had I done to deserve the damned heels, especially with the asshole pair of parents uninvited from the ceremony? While inserting my heels into their asses would have made my day, having a pair of parents who actually wanted me trumped my petty desire for revenge.

Huh. Somehow, I’d grown up since meeting Quinn, although only a little.

I forced my attention back on my husband. “If I look anywhere other than at you, I will see them staring at me. You’re prettier than they are, and I absolutely refuse to be ashamed of this.”

A few months ago, I would have gone and cried in the bathroom had I said that where anyone might hear me.

The Elvis impersonator grinned. “He really is prettier than everyone else here. You’re a very lucky woman.”

Oops. I shrugged, but I also smiled. “It’s true. I can’t help it. He’s in a suit. He can’t wear dress uniforms at home. I get ideas. I am enjoying this while it lasts. Someone is going to take a picture of him in his suit, and I will end up being bribed for copies of the pictures. I’ll have to ration the pictures out. I make him late for work if he wears anything other than his normal uniform. He has to change at work.”

Well, maybe I couldn’t keep my blabbering mouth under control, but I could make people laugh. The entire audience had a field day with my runaway commentary, but beyond blushing over my nervous tendencies, I resisted the urge to dash for the door. If I bolted, Quinn would catch me, drag me back, and laugh about it for the rest of eternity.

It amazed me how much could change in such a short period of time. Six months ago, I’d been bitter, alone, tired, and hungry more often than not. I no longer worried about what I’d eat; if I skipped a meal, Quinn chased me down and hovered until I did what he wanted, which involved eating whatever offering he had brought for me.

Greasy fries and burgers showed up almost as often as healthier fare. He even tolerated me trying to shove fries down his throat, as he deserved to enjoy greasy goodness, too.

I had issues.

I had a lot fewer issues than six months ago.

I deserved a gold star and an entire bucket of napalm for how much progress I’d made.

Quinn chuckled, which captured my attention, and he stole a gentle kiss. “Don’t worry. I’m going to have as much trouble as you when I get you into a dress uniform.”

I loved my gorgon-incubus doohickey. “Serves you right, you freak.” Aw, damn it. There I went, calling my husband a freak on our second wedding day. “I’m blaming the absurd number of cops in this building for my inability to behave like a normal adult.”

The cops snickered, which helped mitigate most of my urge to run away and hide from my ability to thoroughly embarrass myself. Then again, if I did run away and hide, Quinn would cheat and use his body to lure me to our room. Running so he’d chase me tempted me, but I stood my ground for a rare change.

Sometime within a few hours, he would lure me to our room, and I would be rewarded for handling our second wedding with a little more grace than our first. Mostly. Maybe with less grace but properly dressed. I could work with properly dressed for our second wedding.

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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Ruinsong
Julia Ember
Published by: Farrar Straus and Giroux
Publication date: November 24th 2020
Genres: Fantasy, LGBTQ+, Romance, Young Adult

In Julia Ember’s dark and lush LGBTQ+ romantic fantasy Ruinsong, two young women from rival factions must work together to reunite their country, as they wrestle with their feelings for each other.

Her voice was her prison…
Now it’s her weapon.

In a world where magic is sung, a powerful mage named Cadence must choose between the two. For years, she has been forced to torture her country’s disgraced nobility at her ruthless queen’s bidding.

But when she is reunited with her childhood friend, a noblewoman with ties to the underground rebellion, she must finally make a choice: Take a stand to free their country from oppression, or follow in the queen’s footsteps and become a monster herself.

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EXCERPT:

Cadence

I allow Lacerde to dress me without turning to examine myself in the mirror. I don’t want to see how I look, how they’ve fashioned me. In my mind, I already see stains of blood on the muslin fabric of my skirt, dotting the white leather of my gloves. Lacerde adjusts my skirt and smooths my hair. Then, with a grunt, she bends down and buffs my new shoes to a gleam.

She opens the door for me so I don’t get my gloves dirty and leads me down the dark corridor. My dressing room is the only one in use. All the others are boarded up, so that no one will use them to hide.

I imagine what the Opera Hall must have been like years ago, when so many singers performed here together for more willing audiences. The corridors would have been filled with the sounds of laughter, rustling taffeta costumes, and a chorus of warm-up scales. Above, the audience would be straining to get inside the house, clinking glasses together at the theatre bar, speculating on the wonders to come.

If I strain my ear, I can still hear the echo of their merriment in the walls, obscured by the more recent cacophony of despair and pain. The smell of thousands of spellsongs, layered atop one another for centuries, lingers in the musty air. It’s been eight years since this place functioned as a real theatre, but the Opera Hall remembers.

We climb the stairs up onto the stage. Elene and Lord Durand, her newly elevated pet footman, stand together on the edge, shouting instructions down to the conductor in the orchestra pit.

Elene glances up and nods to Lacerde, who positions me at center stage without releasing me. It’s as if they think I will run, even though there is no where to go.

No one has dimmed the gas lamps that line the theatre’s aisles yet, so I have a full view. The theatre is much grander than our replica at the academy. The ceiling bears a centuries-old mural of Adela gifting the first mage with magic. The singer kneels beside the sacred pool, and the goddess rises from the water, her mouth open with song and her arms spread wide. Musical notes surround them, each flecked with real gold leaf.

Portraits of the three other goddesses border the mural. Odetta, the goddess of spring and renewal, wearing a silver mask that covers her eyes and cheeks, and holding a sparrow’s skeleton in her cupped hands. Karina, goddess of justice and winter, thin and draped in a linen sheath, with her arms wide. Marena, the autumn goddess of war, chin lifted proudly, staring down with her hypnotic purple eyes, bejeweled with human teeth.

Beneath, row upon row of tightly packed red velvet seats stretch back to the imposing black doors at the rear of the theatre. They’re made from mageglass, a material designed by the elementals: sand spun, dyed and hardened so that not even diamond bullets could shatter it. Hundreds of people will fill the house tonight. Dame Ava, the queen’s former principal, told me that sometimes there are so many that folk have to stand along the walls.

My knees start to shake at the sight. My mouth goes dry.

All these seats. All these people. My unshed tears blur the rows of red seats together, like a smear of blood.

Author Bio:

Julia Ember is the author of The Seafarer's Kiss duology, a Norse myth inspired retelling of The Little Mermaid, published by Interlude Press (Duet Books), and Ruinsong, a standalone high fantasy reimagining of The Phantom of the Opera, forthcoming from Macmillan Kids (FSG) in November 2020. She lives with her wife and two fluffy cats in the Pacific Northwest.

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Night Watch
Annie Anderson
(Soul Reader, #1)
Publication date: November 17th 2020
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Urban Fantasy

Waking up at the foot of your own grave is no picnic… especially when you can’t remember how you got there.

Cursed with powers she can’t name, Sloane Cabot has vowed to catch the Rogue who turned her into a monster and killed her family. Too bad a broodingly hot mage is bound to keep her on the straight and narrow.

Whether she likes it or not…

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EXCERPT:

“Thomas warned me about this, you know,” Bastian began, his voice pitched low, his booted feet striding close but not piercing my bubble.

I kept my gaze latched onto his feet and refused to look up. If I caught sight of his neck, of his blood pulsing in that lovely vein, I’d lose it. I wasn’t hungry yet and I wanted to keep it that way.

I cleared my throat, an action that took far too much effort and hurt for some reason. My throat was dry. Why was it so dry? “Warned you about what?”

“He said that, in time, I would want to be bitten. That the thought of you hungry or in pain would make me want to serve myself up so you didn’t suffer. That it was dangerous and blissful and would likely cause you to leave us.”

His feet moved closer, piercing my bubble. The heat of him washed over me, even though he was a few feet away.

I shook my head, which I instantly regretted because blood loss was a thing and I was losing a lot of it, the healing process taking far too long. Booth must have hit an artery.

“I don’t want to be tied to anyone. I don’t want a home. I don’t want friends.” It was a lie—a whole mountain of lies—but it was the truth, too. I didn’t want a tie to someone who was going to leave me. I didn’t want a home if I was going to lose it. I didn’t want friends that would die on me.

“Too bad.”

Author Bio:

Annie Anderson is a military wife and United States Air Force veteran. Originally from Dallas, Texas, she is a southern girl at heart, but has lived all over the US and abroad. As soon as the military stops moving her family around, she'll settle on a state, but for now she enjoys being a nomad with her husband, two daughters, an old man of a dog, and a young pup that makes life... interesting.

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The Time Gatherer
Rachel Dacus
Publication date: November 10th 2020
Genres: Adult, Fantasy

Traveling in time he found love. And became a target.

Young George St. James doesn’t know how to unfold the wings of his gift, but a timegathering medieval monk and a 23rd century geneticist can put him on the right track. He learns the genetic nature of his ability. He finds that his destiny is to nudge history in the right direction. Unfortunately, it brings him enemies. The Optimalists are a secret society that wants to change the genome, get rid of the timegathering gene, and control humanity.

Brother Bernardo shows George how to use his ability and counsels him on its purpose. He takes George to Philadelphia in 1776, as the American colonists hesitate to sign a Declaration of Independence from England. He wants to inspire George as a timegatherer move the Colonists to act.

George struggles to thwart the Optimalists and evades their attacks. But love unexpectedly arrives to divert him from his goal. Beautiful, talented 17th century painter Elisabetta Sirani is destined for an untimely end. Passionately determined to save her, George changes history in the service of love—but it may cost him his future.

“A fine tale of time travel, romance, and adventure” ~ Reader review.

THE TIME GATHERER is the second book in the spellbinding Timegathering Series that began with THE RENAISSANCE CLUB. Plunge into a suspenseful story of love and adventure tangled up in history!

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EXCERPT:

Her hand was limp in his, and her eyes had ceased to move under closed lids.

“Elisabetta?”

He couldn’t take a breath until she took one, but her breathing was shallow and slow. George finally inhaled, a lump in his throat. But he couldn’t allow the tears. Not yet. Not while she lived.
A single window above her bed let in a feeble shaft of light, but not much air. The stone walls oppressed him. This backward place. If only he could have transported his beloved to the airy apartment he lived in, four hundred years in the future. She could have recovered there. No one could get well in this backward century.

He had offered to take Elisabetta with him, knowing that she would die of this unknown disease. In his time, they might have been able to cure her, but she’d refused. He wouldn’t force this brilliant young painter to leave everything she’d ever known when that might ruin her and disturb history.

This was all his fault. If George hadn’t allowed his teenage passion for rock and roll to lead him to an even deeper passion for delving into history, he might not be sitting in this stone-walled room in the seventeenth century, keeping vigil at the bedside of the only woman he would ever love.

He could jump right now to the future and ask Dr. Zheng for another remedy, but since this one had gone so wrong, the next cure could be worse. And he couldn’t leave Elisabetta alone now.

Author Bio:

Rachel Dacus writes about love, history, art and adventure, with a touch of the supernatural. Her newest book, THE TIME GATHERER, is Book 2 in the Timegathering Series. Her novel THE INVISIBLES is a story of sisterhood and sacrifice, set in a haunted cottage on the Italian coast. In her first novel, THE RENAISSANCE CLUB (Book 1 in the Timegathering Series), a 17th century genius artist meets his superfan from the future. Dacus has published four poetry collections and many anthologies. Her most recent collection is ARABESQUE. She lives in Northern California with her husband and a tiny but mighty Silky Terrier. She's a member of the Women's Fiction Writer's Association, Alliance of Independent Authors, and Authors18. Learn more at racheldacus.net.

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Damned When I Didn’t
Cherie Colyer
Published by: The Wild Rose Press
Publication date: November 18th 2020
Genres: Paranormal, Romance, Young Adult

Death isn’t the end for eighteen-year-old Avery Williams, and her final resting place isn’t beyond the Golden Gates. No, the Queen of the Damned has plans for her and, unbeknownst to Avery, fought hard to gain possession of her soul.

As Hell’s newest succubus, Avery is expected to siphon life from the living. It only takes a long, meaningful kiss, but for a virgin like Avery, kissing guys she barely knows isn’t something she’s comfortable doing. Avery focuses on the upside of her fate—she’ll be returning home, or so she thinks. When the Queen of the Damned cuts her off from her old life, Avery is determined to find a way back to her family and friends, even if it means facing Hell’s fury if she’s caught.

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EXCERPT:

I kicked my sneakers off near the kitchen stools and dropped my purse on the floor.

“What’s your problem?” Cole asked. He stood a few feet from me, eyes narrowed.

“Nothing.” I breathed in deep, trying to calm myself. The stench of cheap perfume invaded my nostrils. I covered my nose with my hand. “You reek of imitation lavender and…and…onions.”

Cole tossed his keys onto the counter. Obvious confusion flittered over his features only to be replaced with the realization that I was referring to the scents of the waitress.

“You’re one to talk!” he spit back. “You stink of Sport Goofy.”

“Sport Goofy, I mean Marcus, barely touched me.” Cole gave off such a strong odor, I was sure the waitress had put her hands all over him.

Cole stepped closer, placing his hands on the counter on either side of me, caging me in.

“And I barely touched her,” he growled. “When a human’s life force flows from them to us, our souls grow brighter and—”

“We smell like them,” I said, finishing his sentence. He’d told me that once.

“And because our senses become sharper, we know when our kind renews.” The blue in his irises was more pronounced than I’d remembered. I bit my lip to keep from asking him if that was because of my heightened vision or because he’d renewed, as he called it. “Now, do you want to tell me what’s really bothering you?”

I felt my face warm, and I had to fight to keep my gaze from traveling to his lips. Did I want to admit that I was irrationally jealous that he’d kissed another girl? Nope. So, instead, I said, “Her smell makes me want to puke.”

“Eau de Jock is doing the same to me.”

“You’re the one who called Sport Goofy,” I reminded him.

He smiled, clearly happy that I’d called Marcus by the nickname.

“You’re the one who pissed off the Queen of the Damned,” he countered.

I twitched a shoulder. “I still can’t stand how you smell right now.”

“Fine!” He grabbed me just under my butt and lifted me over his shoulder. I screamed. He held my legs, keeping me from falling.

“What are you doing?” I grabbed his waist from my upside down position.

“You think I smell?”

“Reek. And you said I do, too! Now put me down!”

“Let’s fix that.”

He marched to the bathroom with me slung over his shoulder. The next thing I knew we were standing in the tub. He continued to hold me like a sack of rice.

“Cole?”

He slid me down his chest so I stood in front of him with his arms keeping me from moving.

“Cole?”

He reached behind me.

I glanced up at the showerhead, then to the knob next to me. “You wouldn’t!”

“Want to bet?”

Author Bio:

Cherie Colyer is the author of Challenging Destiny and the Embrace series. When she's not getting the fictional people in her life into trouble, she can be found solving network issues at work, spending time with family and friends, reading, or exploring the great outdoors.

Cherie lives in Illinois with her family.

To learn more about Cherie and her novels visit www.CherieColyer.com

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Betrayed
Jacklyn Daher
(The Chronicles of Luxor Everstone, #2)
Publication date: November 19th 2020
Genres: Paranormal, Urban Fantasy, Young Adult

With the revelation Luxor Everstone is the daughter of the Prince of Darkness, an entirely new door fraught with danger is opened. As Cane is lying in wait, Luxor is forced to have constant protection, leaving her suffocated.

When new help arrives in the form of a witch, and a mysterious and dreamy boy who seems to soothe her more than anyone else can, she doesn’t hesitate to invite them into her life despite her growing affection for Hunter.

As fresh dangers loom on the horizon, she begins to unravel different details about her past, while greater powers are introduced, and the others continue to evolve. Conflicted between the pull toward her darkness and her desire to be good, Luxor juggles the priorities—and her opinionated guardians—while trying to find some semblance of balance.

When the darkness returns to claim her completely, can she trust herself to make the right choice?

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EXCERPT:

Luxor inhaled the crisp fresh air, the potent aroma of pine, and the thick smell of nectar. O Theós eísai ómorfi, she mumbled, a smile creeping up on her face. Everything was blanketed in darkness, but she continued to breath in nature as if it was her lifeline.

“Angel,” Hunter called out. “Angel, wake up.”

Where is he?

The forest came closer, overwhelmingly her senses. “Wake up.” A warm hand touched her face in the darkness, it’s spark jolting her.

Luxor flinched, her eyes snapping open, the darkness giving way to the last person she’d expected to see. Dressed in a hoodie covering his head, he sat on the edge of the bed by her side.

The room came into view; it was different than the last one. This one was a padded enclosure; walls and ceiling, the only thing that wasn’t was a metallic door, with a sliding opening.

I’m institutionalised.

“Hey, how are you?” His toffee eyes, usually full of life and effervescent, were a murky brown, matching his hoarse voice.

“What are yo—? How do you kno—?” Luxor struggled to form sentences. Her head pounded, as if skewers dug into her temples.

“I’m staging a loony bin break out,” he stated nonchalantly, his gaze fixated on the door. “I’m sure you’re capable, but it appears you’re all tied up at the moment.”

“How did… I don’t understand.”

Keys jangled at the door, and Luxor froze, expecting to be drugged, or gassed again. Still restrained, she wiggled her fingers. Hunter reached out, his fingers entwined with hers, and she winced. A burn struck her side and she bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from yelping. Luxor leaned her head against his back, concentrating on her breathing. Instead of a nurse, a familiar lanky boy also in a hoodie stomped in.

“Castor, what took you so long?” Hunter moved forward, giving his brother a bro hug followed by a fist pump.

Castor?

“How are we going to do this?” Castor said.

Before they could decide on a form of action, the door swung open, and sure enough a stocky woman, with oily slicked black hair and white uniform entered.

“What the hell are you doing in here? This is a restricted area,” she growled, waggling her fingers.

Author Bio:

A mother of two boys, I’m a self confessed nerd who loves to write dark and twisted characters in modern settings. You could find feisty MC’s and bad boys with filthy mouths. Doesn’t mean I don’t love to read or write saucy romances too!

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The Waltz of Devil’s Creek
Justine Carver
Publication date: October 20th 2020
Genres: Adult, Historical

Judith Campbell is dying, and she cannot take the painful truth about where her son came from to the grave with her. While on her deathbed in Atlanta, Georgia in 1994, Judith tells him the tragic story of his conception, and which of two men his birth father could be: the young man who professed his love to her, or the pastor who assaulted her.

Set in the Deep South in 1947, The Waltz of Devil’s Creek digs into the dark crevices of racism and women’s rights during a heated political climate in an era of segregation. Combined with Judith’s lack of social stature, and at a time when reporting sexual assault was unheard of, every injustice is stacked against her from the very beginning.

But there is a light in Judith’s young life: her best friend, Joseph Bird, who has loved her since childhood. Joseph stands up for Judith when no one else will and proves that even in the darkest of times, a light is always burning.

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

The sound of trickling water hit the floorboards beneath me; I sucked in a sharp breath and froze.

Joseph’s eyes strayed downward; his brows crumpled in his forehead, and he gawked at me like I’d grown a third eyeball. “Are you…peein’?” he asked as if he couldn’t believe such a thing.

“No…I uh…” I couldn’t get the words out, but I sure knew what was going on. I gripped my belly with both hands and sat down on the edge of the bed, fluid dripping down my legs—I’d swore I’d never wear a dress again, but I couldn’t fit into pants anymore. “I think I’m gonna have a baby now, Joseph.”

His eyes darted back and forth from my face to the puddle on the floor; he looked as white as the sheet I’d just dressed the bed with.

“Oh, umm…what do you…oh shit, Judy, I don’t know what to do. I’ll go get—.” He started for the door to fetch my pa.

“Joseph, remember what we talked about,” I said, stopping him in his tracks. “You can do this.”

“I remember a brief conversation about who’s gonna deliver this baby,” he said with sarcasm. “But I also remember tellin’ you ain’t no way in hell I can do it. You gotta go to the hospital.”

The first wave of pain struck me like somebody done hit me across the lower back with a two-by-four. “Ahh! Oh no, Joseph, this…ahhh!” I gritted my teeth so hard that pain shot through my jaw and into the top of my head. “I can’t go to the hospital…please, you promised.”

“What?! I did no such thing!”

“Yes, you did! You said: ‘I swear on my life I’ll deliver the baby if nobody else is around to do it’—can’t go back on it now.”

He threw his hands up in the air. “Well yeah, I may’ve said that, but it was only to get you off my back about it—I can’t deliver a baby!”

“You’re gonna have to!” I cried out in pain again and fell back against the bed; I didn’t know why, but for a moment, I thought about how I’d just made the bed and was annoyed by the awful timing.

I heard my pa’s voice from the doorway—he was like the dead arisen, as I hadn’t heard him say much in so long. I clamped my jaw down again, eyes closed so tightly I saw spots dancing on the inside of my eyelids.

Author Bio:

Justine Carver was born and raised in the Southern United States on a heavy dose of creek-wading, lightning-bug-catching, and Saturday morning cartoons. She is a full-time writer, all-the-time reader, and every now and then, she pulls her head out of the clouds long enough to remember how much better it is up there.

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a beautiful broken life
Zoey Zane
Publication date: December 3rd 2020
Genres: Poetry, Romance

some of the best and worst things come in pairs
and two has always been my favorite number

they tried to break me
the two of them

if this was black and white
there’d be a clear winner

but it’s not
and there isn’t

there is only my story
muddled with color 

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

it was over 

no sooner than it started 

you broke my heart 

and still 

i found a way 

to hear the beats. 

– recovery

Author Bio:

Zoey Zane is a thirty-something author and poet; and, she has been a zealous reader for most of her life. She has a love for dark romance and thrillers, two genres that dominate most of the space on her bookshelves. a beautiful broken life is her first poetry collection. Zoey lives in Tennessee with her husband, their son, and their adorable pit-bull mix.

For Zoey, writing has never been optional; like eating and breathing are essential to living. She has always wanted to write poetry, has a love for creative writing, will never finish her TBR, collects bookmarks, and truly believes all people should use the Oxford comma. If you can figure out how Zoey Zane (very) loosely relates to her real name, she'll give you a cookie. Oh, and a signed paperback of her book.

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