The Count’s Castaway
Aubrey Wynne
(Pirate of Britannia)
Publication date: December 31th 2020
Genres: Adult, Historical Romance

He’s escaping his past… She’s running toward her future… The present just got interesting.

Torn from her bed and indentured to an American as a child, Katherine Wilken demands her freedom seven years later. Denied her liberty, she stows away on The Escape, hoping to return to England. But when the ship sets sail, so does her heart. Katie soon realizes she’s once again a captive—of love.

Narrow escapes seem to be Count Alexandre Lecroix’s lot in life. Fleeing France as a boy during the Reign of Terror, he’s a man with no country and soon takes to the sea in search of his destiny. The Napoleonic Wars have filled his pockets and his zeal for excitement, but his heart remains hollow. When he discovers a feisty stowaway on board, he resists the squall of emotion she stirs within him.

Two lonely souls find passion in the turbulent waters of the Atlantic, each a fugitive of their past. As land draws near, Zander is torn between his desire for a woman and his hunger for the sea.

Can love survive once the ship has anchored, or will their newfound happiness founder?

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EXCERPT:

Alexandre left the office and ambled back to the harbor. Merchants haggled over prices and the condition of shipments, boys called out the name of hotels and taverns hoping for a seaman’s newly paid wage. Doxies weaved among the throng, offering a smile to anyone ogling their wares. His eyes searched the crowded harbor and found the mast of his own schooner. Taking in a long, satisfied breath, he surveyed the busy dock as he dodged out of the path of a fast-moving cart.

Once past, a scuffle on the other side of the yard caught his attention.

“Let go of me!” cried a feminine voice.

Alexandre wiped the sweat from his brow and squinted against the morning sun. The voice sounded female. Most women roaming the docks were hoping for a man’s touch—and the coin in his pocket. Did the customer refuse the price or want something for free?

“You dirty, low-down, sniveling—” The voice pitched higher with each curse.

He spotted a petite woman, holding her ground like a soldier against the enemy. She wore a shapeless linen shirt with a wide collar over a pair of duck trousers. The outfit of a seaman. Deep ruby bounced off her shoulders and flashed with gold as her head bobbed, her palms patting down her loose clothing while she searched for something. The object of her tirade towered over her, giant hands on his hips, shaking his head. From the wide crooked nose and broad face, Alexandre assumed the rotund man wasn’t a stranger to the receiving end of a fist.

“You have no proof. It’s my word against yours. Who do you think the authorities will believe? An indentured servant or a citizen and business owner?” The stout man sniggered.

The redhead produced a piece of paper and waved it in the air. “I have the original document. I’ve kept it hidden away all these years, waiting for this day.” Her blue eyes glittered triumphantly. Even in the ill-fitting clothes, she was a beauty.

“I’ve never laid hands on you, Katie, but you’re trying my patience.” The man’s face hardened. “You’ve been fed, never beaten or… abused in any way. I’ve been a good master, and this is how you repay me?”

“I want my freedom. I’ve earned it. Rory is free, and you bought us on the same voyage.”

Alexandre admired her spunk. Katie wasn’t backing down. He settled against a tower of crates, interested in how this scene would play out. With unexpected speed, the man snatched the paper from the girl’s hand and held it high above her head as she reached on her toes to take it back. He ripped it into shreds, a gleeful grin showing two blackened teeth.

Alexandre’s jaw ticked. He wouldn’t mind wiping the sneer from those flat features. He hated to see the little spitfire taken advantage of.

“You were saying?” he jeered.

Her mouth fell open, large blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Alexandre had the oddest urge to scoop her up in his arms and take her on board L’Évasion. He’d probably get a black eye for his effort, he thought with a grin.

The oaf grabbed the girl’s wrist again, and her knee jerked up. “You’re coming with me, you little”—he doubled over, grabbing his crotch—“oomph!”

Katie turned on her heel and ran in Alexandre’s direction. He ducked between the rows of crates, and as she dashed by, he reached out and caught her waist. Pulling her close, he turned them to face the opposite direction, concealing her slight form with his own. His grip tightened as she fought like a hellcat.

Author Bio:

Bestselling and award-winning author Aubrey Wynne is an elementary teacher by trade, champion of children and animals by conscience, and author by night. She resides in the Midwest with her husband, dogs, horses, mule, and barn cats. Obsessions include wine, history, travel, trail riding, and all things Christmas. Her Chicago Christmas series has received the Golden Quill, Aspen Gold, Heart of Excellence, and the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence and twice nominated as a Rone finalist by InD’tale Magazine.

Aubrey’s first love is medieval romance but after dipping her toe in the Regency period in 2018 with the Wicked Earls’ Club, she was smitten. This inspired her spin-off series Once Upon a Widow. In 2020, she launched the Scottish Regency series A MacNaughton Castle Romance with Dragonblade Novels.

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Rhyker’s Key
M.C. Solaris
(Orion’s Order, #2)
Publication date: December 21st 2020
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

Rhyker, tattooed bad boy and lethal jaguar shifter, falls for the sweet and caring healer, Keena. Except, she’s determined to keep him in the friend zone… good thing he’s a predator that enjoys the hunt.

Together, can they heal their past and forge a future bonded with true love?

SECOND BOOK IN THE ORION’S ORDER SERIES

Orion’s Order returns in another addictive installment about their secret world of magic and mystery. A world where the most powerful words in the Universe are discovered in the fight against an ancient evil force.

KEENA OLIVER
I am haunted by my past mistakes. Mistakes that I have no idea how I even made. I am an educated mind and spirit healer after all. So how in the holy healer hell did I end up in a relationship where the male who I thought I loved…
Yeah, it’s probably best not to rehash those nightmares. But if I don’t dare open up that box to my past, then how am I ever going to be able to move on? Especially because I so want to move on with a certain sexy male. A male whose lips devoured mine in a darkened corner that one time. A male whose predatory piercing blue eyes practically track my every move. A male who I shouldn’t be fantasizing about every second of every day. Why? Because it would ruin me.

RHYKER KINGSLEY
I’ve had my eye on a certain female for almost a year now. A female who is damn determined to keep me in the friend zone. A female who’s been hurt by her ex but refuses to open up to me about it. So, you could say I go through a lot of smokes… a f*cking lot.

Meanwhile, my pack of lethally trained and skilled hunters and I are gunning for an evil SOB who not only signed his death warrant the second he tried to come after my pack sister and mate to our alpha, but also the f*cker poses a threat to our world as we know it. Yet, said ancient powerful bastard has gone off the grid and is all but impossible to track.

Oh, and did I mention that the past seems to be mixing with the present? I mean, the f*ck is this? The revenge year of the shitty exes?

So, excuse me while I light up a smoke… or two.

Devour this addictive series at your own risk…
+ Happily Ever After
+ Sexy Paranormal Jaguar Shifter Romance
+ Multiple POV
+ Mature Content
+ This series is meant to be read in order for the best reading experience
———————————————-
RHYKER’S KEY is an adult paranormal jaguar shifter romance. If you like swoon-worthy males, heroines with feminine strength, an engaging plot, satisfying relationships, steamy love stories, happy ever afters, and getting sucked into a supernatural story, then you’ll want to immerse yourself in the world of species!

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EXCERPT:

Words. She needed to find words so she could respond because that was how conversations went. But words eluded her at the moment because she was still trying to recover from the debilitating tease from a moment ago when his lips were… Wait, you need to respond. But what did he say again?

“What do you use the second bedroom for?” he asked again in that curious feline way of his as he walked back toward her from the hall.

What do you use the second bedroom for? She had to slowly repeat his question in her mind in order for her brain to get with the program and understand what he was even asking. My second bedroom? Oh god, do I tell him what’s in there? She bit her lip in slight hesitation and he noticed, of course.

“What? Is that like your secret sex dungeon or something?” His lips turned up at the corners in a very feline way.

“Sex dungeon?” She laughed. “Of course that’s immediately where your mind goes.”

“Well, where else would it go when I’m with you.” He took a step closer to her. “In your home.” He closed the distance between them so they were separated by mere inches. “Alone.”

Her pulse quickened to a hummingbird’s pace and suddenly, she was back to being in the scorcher of desire.

Noticing her reaction, his mischievous grin transformed into his irresistibly sinful smirk.

She knew he was just playing with her but before he could continue, she broke the erotic tension between them by taking a step back and saying, “Here’s my sex dungeon.” And she didn’t mean for it to come out as husky as it did.

She opened the door to the second bedroom and he peered inside. His brows shot up in surprise before refocusing back on her in a silent question.

She laughed. “No, this is not my sex dungeon. This is my therapy room.”

“Therapy. Is that what they’re calling it these days?” he drawled, walking over to the pole. Without warning, he gripped the pole and lifted his body effortlessly so he was completely parallel to the ground. He gave her a wink and she laughed. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he climbed up the pole with just his arm strength.

“Good thing I had that installed for the highest weight class or else you may have fallen flat on your face,” she quipped, trying not to notice the way his biceps flexed and tantalized her feminine essence.

“Don’t insult me. I always land on my feet.” As if in emphasis of his point, he let go of his grip at the very top of the pole and landed softly on his feet with feline grace.

“So not fair.” She shook her head, still smiling. “I’ve trained for years and yet here you go showing me up.”

“I’ll gladly be the judge of that.” He stepped aside and held his arm out to the pole in invitation for her.

Author Bio:

M.C. Solaris’s life took an unexpected turn during the super blood moon eclipse on January 20, 2019. She woke up and began writing bios for her imaginary friends that she met that day. As soon as the pen hit the paper (or fingertips to the iPhone), she couldn’t stop. It was kind of like one of those fire hydrants, spewing copious amounts of water all over the place. The characters and their stories just flowed out of her. She is honored to be the scribe, getting to share her friends’ stories. You can read all about her gifted friends in the Orion’s Order series (Book 1 is Calypso’s Heart).

On a personal note, M.C. Solaris is actually the pseudonym of Marina Schroeder, women’s health enthusiast and lover of all things paranormal romance (PNR) and happily ever after (HEA). When she is not curled up on the sofa with her partner’s oversized hoodie, a PNR novel, peppermint tea, and one of her three cats, you will find her either at the ocean with her toes in the sand or in a forest hugging a tree. Well truthfully? There is one more place you might find her: trolling the aisles of Whole Foods for a satisfying combination of salty and sweet while hiding in her partner’s hoodie… like any proper PNR-writing introvert.

Want to get the latest scoop, sneak peeks, and short shares all about her imaginary friends? Go to www.mcsolaris.com and sign up for the newsletter.
Welcome to The Order!

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Gabriel is Cursed
Julia Goldhirsh
(Nymph’s Revenge, #2)
Publication date: December 15th 2020
Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult

Rose and Gabriel have to stop the nymphs from destroying the city forever.

Even though Nightshade’s gone, his plan is still unfolding. The nymphs want to destroy one of the biggest cities in Pennsylvania, a place full of factories.

Rose needs to learn how to use her nymph powers if she wants to have a fighting chance. When she learns she’s no average human, Rose starts to question her loyalty to humanity.

Gabriel’s connection with reality is fading. He hides his condition to help Rose, but at what cost?

Can they stop the nymphs, or will this battle be their last?

Trigger warnings: Domestic abuse. Rose’s father is abusive and makes an appearance in the beginning and at the end of the book.

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EXCERPT:

She’s not your wife?

As they continued into the hotel, Rose trailed close behind. He peered back at her as she dragged her bags along. She deserves a good night’s sleep by herself.

While he’d relish the company, they’d both needed sleep, and he didn’t want to risk her seeing him hallucinate in case that happened again.

He ran a finger through his hair, mentally calculating how much of his savings he had left. The extra room would cost him, but she deserved some goodwill after everything she’d been through. With a sigh, he pushed open the heavy, wooden doors that led into the hotel lobby.

Sparkling chandeliers hung from the ceiling, the dim light of the candles, and a few stray bulbs illuminated the spacious room. A large spiral staircase descended into the center of the room, and vivid emerald green walls complemented the dark wooden floors. Scatterings of tables and chairs sat near the staircase.

A woman with mussed, brown hair awaited them at a dark wooden desk in the room’s corner. With a perky smile plastered on her face, she chirped out, “Welcome,” as they entered the building.

Gabriel walked over to the desk with Rose in tow and said, “I’d like to book two rooms for tonight.”

The woman gave him a blank look. “You won’t be rooming with your wife?”

Rose coughed beside him, and she clutched his arm in a vice grip as she got nose to nose with the woman. “His what? Surely you must be joking?”

She’s definitely awake after that comment, he thought. Gabriel chuckled at Rose’s shock. As his hand came to his mouth to cover his laughter, he saw the glint of his old, silver wedding band on his finger and slipped it in his pants pocket.

He must have put it on at some point absentmindedly. With a wave of his hand he said, “This lovely woman isn’t my wife, but she’s an excellent travel companion.” He winked at Rose and relished the blush that colored her face.

The woman’s brows knit together. “But you were just wearing a-”

He cut her off, holding up the hand without the ring. “I think you were mistaken, although she is rather stunning.”

The woman blinked at his now bare ring finger. “Sorry. I must have been mistaken.” She handed separate keys to Rose and Gabriel in a daze.

Rose’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?” Gabriel waved her off with a smile.

“We leave early in the morning and you’re…unpleasant when you haven’t slept enough. You can thank me by getting a good night’s rest.”

She shoved his shoulder. “See. She’s quite capable of stunning when angry.”

Rose huffed and headed up the stairs just ahead of him. He thought that was the end of their conversation for the night, but once they were out of the innkeeper’s prying gaze, she pulled him close. She planted a brief kiss on his lips and whispered “Thank you,” before they went to their rooms.

The unexpected peck made his face flush.

Author Bio:

Julia Goldhirsh was born and raised in Coconut Creek, Florida. She spent one year working in Japan as an ESL teacher and loves traveling and teaching. She has been writing ever since she was in elementary school, and her favorite stories to read and write were always fantasy and mythology books.

She started out writing on writers cafe and all poetry. RPG writing became her favorite past time in high school. She has won a short fiction award in high school from the Broward County Lit fair for her short story "Night Sprite."

She loves to talk about lesser known mythological creatures. Her most recent obsession is with Nymphs, Enchantresses, and the Encantado. Known as wanderingteacher on her travel blog and adventuringwriter on her author blog, she also writes about traveling, adjusting to different cultures, and the process of self-publishing.

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Murder Mittens
R.J. Blain
(Magical Romantic Comedies, #13)
Publication date: December 25th 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Becoming a bounty hunter and taking on the call sign of Murder Mittens wasn’t Harri’s brightest move, but what’s a lynx to do with millions of debt while working a customer service gig? The scars deforming her face won’t remove themselves, and she’ll bag and tag every criminal in the United States to get rid of them if necessary.

Being assigned a handler could make or break her, but did the powers that be really have to toss Sebastian Sumners her way? The lion with a stubborn streak as wide as hers tests her patience on a good day, but nothing makes her purr more than goading him into roaring.

Add in a protective family, a serial killer on the loose, and more trouble than any one cat needs, and it’s going to take a miracle for Harri to get through the most important job of her life.

Warning: contains magic, humor, cranky shapeshifters, cats, murder, and mayhem. Proceed with caution.

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EXCERPT:

Chapter One

Why was murdering irate, irrational, ignorant, and flat-out wrong customers illegal? The idiot on the phone rambled about how it wasn’t fair that dumping coffee on his router invalidated his warranty.

I thought it wasn’t fair his stupidity might lose me IQ points, and I’d learned long ago that humans—or lycanthropes, such as myself—didn’t come with warranties or guarantees. I had bills to pay, and murdering one of the customers wouldn’t pay my bills.

Then again, in prison, I wouldn’t have to pay any bills. Every day by the end of my shift, I considered incarceration as a viable option.

Free board, free food, good medical care, and asshole inmates to beat on sounded a lot better than dealing with an idiot customer.

“Sir,” I said in the hopes of circumventing his tirade. Mr. Edward Lavell ignored me.

The idiots always ignored me. I bet my gender had something to do with it. On average, the men finished their calls five minutes faster, and every supervisor to review the situation came to the same general conclusion: customers took men in tech more seriously than women, and I, unfortunately, sounded too feminine.

“Sir,” I repeated, only to be ignored again.

Why couldn’t I just hang up on him? Oh, right. I valued my job. As I valued my job, I couldn’t hang up on him, I couldn’t curse, I couldn’t threaten to rip his throat out, and I couldn’t indulge in my desire to murder him.

There was a time and a place for murder, and on the job at a call center for a cable internet company was not the time nor the place.

For the fourth time since calling in, Mr. Lavell explained that it really wasn’t his fault he’d dumped coffee on his router.

“Sir, liquid spills are right in the contract for the router. I’m sorry, but I can’t change the rules for you. Spilling coffee on your router invalidates its warranty.”

“It’s not my fault the cup holder in my computer has a mind of its own,” he complained.

Wait. What?

His computer’s cup holder has a mind of its own? The realization I dealt with someone far worse than just an idiot sank in. Every call center had legends of Code Red customers, who were in an entirely different class from the standard 1-D10T and the unfortunately common PEBKAC. With Mr. Lavell, I had it all. A problem certainly did exist between the keyboard and chair, and he’d definitely deserved his flag as an 1-D10T.

Until his call, I had remained safe from the evils of a Code Red customer.

By the time I got off the phone with him, I’d need some alcohol and someone to kill.

It’d be easier to find someone to kill than the alcohol; me and booze just didn’t mix, and I’d been banned out of every damned bar in town to keep the peace.

Maybe I could whip on some makeup, grab a gray wig, and pass for a little old lady. With my face covered in burn scars, it wouldn’t take much to pull off some makeup artistry and transform myself into an older woman rather than a mutilated one. I could become a conventional beauty given an hour and the right products. An old lady wasn’t an impossibility.

Alternatively, I could shift, pay my family a visit, and steal a bottle of liquor from one of the cabinets. With the number of lynxes running around the place, they might not even notice me before I made off with my alcoholic prize.

As sighing was not acceptable when dealing with paying customers, I took a moment to steel my nerves before saying, “Sir, computers do not include cup holders.”

That caught his attention. “What?”

“Sir, computers do not include cup holders,” I repeated, already dreading the moment I would have to explain what a CD was, how they were used, and what the player’s actual purpose was. Few systems still had any disc drives at all, as most companies had moved to online downloads of their programs and games.

The next few minutes of my life would not be fun, and I typed a message to my supervisor warning him I had a major 1-D10T on my hands, a possible Code Red situation, and to make sure he was aware I faced the demise of some IQ points, I notified him the customer had opted to use his disc drive as a coffee cup holder.

“What the hell is this thing for, then?”

“CDs, sir.” I closed my eyes and waited for the meltdown.

“First, you claim I invalidated my warranty, and now you’re telling me my cup holder plays music?”

“As this is an internet company, sir, I can’t help you with your CD player. However, it is not a cup holder, nor should it be used as one. As for your router, you owe $35.79 on the device. Once you finish paying for the damaged equipment, I can schedule a tech to come to your home and install your new router. Since you’ve been a customer for so long, I can waive the fifty dollar installation fee. Your monthly bill will not change if you opt to pay off the damaged equipment and start a new rental.”

If he gave me a hard time, I’d take my time and give him all of his options. None of them would be as good as my initial offer. I cracked open an eye and checked my messages with my boss.

He wished me the best of luck and promised to send flowers to my funeral. He also begged me not to tell my brothers about the menace wasting my time. If any one of my forty-seven brothers found out I dealt with customers screaming at me five days a week, they’d go on a rampage.

That my boss knew my family drove me crazy on a good day.

I figured my idiot family had gone on a hunt to meet my boss, and because we were all infected with lycanthropy, my boss wouldn’t have thought twice about their behavior.

Lycanthropes had a reputation.

Most days, it wasn’t a good one.

Only an idiot would piss off a bunch of male lycanthropes out to protect their precious little sister. Unfortunately for me, I counted as an endangered species, as the odds of a lycanthrope having daughters in the first place fell somewhere in around ten thousand to one.

I needed to notify my mother she needed to have more daughters. While she was at it, she needed to give me a new name, because nobody ever believed Harri was a woman’s name. I figured she’d meant to name me Harry because she’d expected yet another boy, swapping out the ‘y’ for an ‘i’ to make things easier on her.

When on the job, I went by Christine because Christine seemed gloriously feminine and nobody on the team used their real names. Technically, I was supposed to change my name every day, but I went by Christine for all new callers, and I only rotated through when I knew I was dealing with someone who gave me issues.

My method worked well enough, so my boss didn’t complain.

While Mr. Lavell spluttered and began the tedious process of mulling over his options, I began making plans for after work—assuming I escaped from my job without succumbing to the temptation of informing the customer he was most definitely wrong, he needed to go back to school to join the modern world, and it wouldn’t hurt if he learned to be civil.

I had to explain his options four times before he finally conceded he should stick with his old plan, pay for the damaged router, and move on with life. It took an extra ten minutes of listening to him whine before he finally hung up.

Above all, I hated the rule that we were not supposed to hang up on clients. It wasted time. Had I been allowed to just hang up, I would have wished him a good day, disconnected the call, and began the tedious process of adding notes to his file so the next customer service representatives stuck with him knew they had trouble on their hands.

My phone rang, but instead of a customer, my phone reported my boss wanted to speak with me. With slumped shoulders, I accepted his call and answered, “Sir?”

“I listened in on your Code Red.”

I hated when my boss actively monitored my calls; thanks to how the system worked, he could listen in on me at any time. But, a job was a job, and with my scarred face, finding a job became troublesome at best—and nobody in the call center knew or cared what I looked like. Oh, well. Before I jumped to conclusions, I’d ask. “What’s my grade, sir?”

“You did fine. You stayed professional, you didn’t come across as too condescending, and frankly, there’s no sane tech on this planet stays totally cool a Code Red. It could have been much worse.”

I checked the clock, breathing a sigh of relief that I’d hit the end of my shift and wouldn’t have to take any more calls. “What do you need?”

“I had a question about your schedule. You’re off for the next week, correct?”

“Yes, sir.” I had plans, and they involved the International Most Wanted List along with every legal bounty list I had managed to get my hands on in the past month. If my boss tried to put an end to my hard-earned vacation, I’d finally do what I should have done months ago, snap, and quit.

I wanted him to cross my last line so badly.

“Ted wants an extra shift. How would you feel about an unpaid day added to your vacation? I’ve already gotten approval if you’d like to claim the unpaid day.”

Score. I’d bid for time off almost a year ago, but sick days were the bare minimum the state allowed, which accounted to five for the entire year. An extra day tacked onto my vacation might let me bag an extra bounty.

Any day I bagged an extra bounty was a good day in my opinion.

“I can take an unpaid day, sir. That’s fine. Can you send me an email confirming the unpaid day off?”

“It’ll be in your inbox within the next ten minutes, and I’ll CC human resources notifying them you’re excused for that day.”

“Okay. Will the rest of my schedule remain the same once I’m back from vacation?”

“Yes. Ted just asked for extra hours, and the others with seniority declined the day off.”

I bet; on our income, every hour mattered. Most who worked for the call center had seen better days. I lived like I’d seen better days and I looked like I’d seen better days, but appearances lied. I only worked at the call center to maintain appearances. Thanks to depression in my teens and therapy that hadn’t gone like my parents had wanted, my entire family demanded I check in at least three times a week to ensure I remained human.

They believed if they took their eyes off me, I might shift into a lynx and never come back.

Two years ago, they wouldn’t have been wrong, but I’d found a new purpose in life. Not a single one of my brothers would approve, my mother would have yet another litter of kittens, and my father would be so disappointed.

Personally, I thought it was obvious. I worked in customer service. I was a prime candidate to become a murderous asshole. I did so legally, on behalf of the government and other legal entities, and I did so for a filthy amount of money.

Smiling stretched my scars, but I did it anyway. “If anyone needs any extra hours, I can afford another day or two off,” I offered. “I can take up to a week unpaid. I’ve been saving up to take some time off if any opportunities allowed.”

It would delay paying for the expensive procedure required to piece my face back together and remove the evidence of the fire that’d almost killed me as a child. It took a lot of magic to convince the lycanthropy virus I wasn’t supposed to be a scarred wreck.

A lot of magic cost a lot of money, and I figured I might have the three million dollars within five years if I landed a bounty every weekend and took on some of the more dangerous jobs. While I waited for my boss to mull over my offer, I considered the various jobs on offer.

I liked hunting other lycanthropes. Unmated males were easy catches, and the fugitives usually brought in a pretty penny. The last one I’d bagged as a live capture had added fifty thousand to my bank account.

Then again, if I landed an entire extra week, I’d make up the lost hours with a single small bounty, and anything else would be extra cash in my savings account.

My boss grunted, signaling he’d come to a decision. “I’ll keep that in mind and pitch the offer. I’ll email your personal and work addresses if there are any takers plus text your phone.”

“Thanks, sir. Have a good evening.”

“You, too.”

He hung up, and before something could go wrong, I clocked out, filed my paperwork for my final call, and logged out of the system so I couldn’t be sucked back into doing even more work.

If all went well, I’d be a hundred grand richer by the end of the week and that much closer to being able to look in the mirror without wincing.

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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Finding Forever: Shifter Anthology
Publication date: December 20th 2020
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

People long for their happy ending in life.
Crossing over to the dark side may be where mine is hiding.
Do I have the courage to cross, or am I locked in a world where I will never be happy?
Includes:
More Than My Eyes – Jessica Gleave
Wish – K.O. Newman
Heart of a Raven – Nathalie M.L. Römer
Bree – Gemma Arlington
Translucent Moon – Grein Murray
Shadowed Water – S.E. Welsh

A Shifter Anthology brought to you by Kay Maree.

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Karolina Dalca, Dark Eyes
M. R. Noble
Published by: The Wild Rose Press
Publication date: December 16th 2020
Genres: Adult, Romance, Urban Fantasy

Blindsided by an attack that destroys her home and blamed for murder, Karolina Dalca, a half-vampire, escapes, only to plunge into the magical societies from which she was sheltered.

Betrayed by those around her, she abandons her dreams of becoming an investigator and flees, trusting only herself. Her police internship would never prove more useful. Hoofing it through the wilderness, she makes it to her university dorm, disheveled but delightfully deflowered.

Enter a full vampire: one wielding dark magic and a ride out of Canada. A fugitive from the law, Karo complies with his demands to escape, unsure whether his requests are bewitched. She vows to clear her name and avenge her mother’s death, but Karo’s family secrets aren’t so easily left behind.

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EXCERPT:

“Who are you anyway?” I asked.

“Andre,” he said. “Private Investigator, but I’ll do anything for money.” He winked.

“You’re not human,” I said. “What are you?” I stretched out my Charmed senses and felt magic within him.

“I’m a vampire, princess. Same as you, but with a little extra dark superpower. I’m a full vamp though, and from what I can tell from your dismal amount of speed out there, you’re half.”

He dragged a chair from the wall and sat across from me.

“You have the Dark Charm?” I asked. “I should have figured; you ooze sleaze bag.”

“And you have a little something special up your sleeve too, don’t you, princess? I bet you get a little hot now and then, don’t you?”

I narrowed my eyes.

“And with a name like Karolina Dalca . . . I bet you’ve got enough training to back up that look you’re giving me.”

He knew my name, my powers, and where to find me. My eyes fell over his body, sizing him up as he sat across from me. Strong jaw, tall, six feet and maybe four inches, and muscular broad shoulders. I could take him—if I took him by surprise.

Author Bio:

M. R. Noble has played a tug of war between science and art her whole life, but the rope broke when she wrote the first line of The Dark Eyes Series. Immersed up to her keyboard in paranormal romance and urban fantasy, she enjoys blending the real with the surreal. The only drawback is she misplaces her mug while dreaming up her next scene, and soon finds herself six cups overpoured.

Keeping to her Lake Simcoe roots, she is a member of the Writers Community of York Region (WCYR), where her muse is made not found . . . over a hefty cup of coffee.

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Cemetery Songs
Julie Gilbert
Publication date: December 15th 2020
Genres: Young Adult Fiction

Poignant and uplifting, Cemetery Songs is a compelling YA about a girl, a ghost, and the graveyard that sends them both on a journey of self-acceptance.

When Polly Stone’s birthmother dies, she feels lost and adrift. How do you mourn someone you never knew? Even the dead, whose final thoughts Polly can hear, offer no advice.

Instead Polly fails her classes, alienates her friends, gets fired from her summer job, and accidentally sets fire to the high school. At a loss, Polly’s parents ground her and insist she volunteer at the local archives.

The dusty boxes are boring, but Polly is intrigued by her assignment: mapping an abandoned Black settlement on the edge of town. At the very least, it gives her time to examine her confused feelings for Billy Meyer, a former classmate who is also blackmailing her.

Amid weedy tombstones, Polly and Billy encounter the charming ghost of Harrison Card, who died in 1924. Sensing there’s more to the story than Harrison can recall, the unlikely trio investigates the mysterious circumstances surrounding his death.

The discoveries are unnerving, especially since the ugly racist history reflects some of Polly’s own experiences as a biracial teenager. Past and present collide when Polly’s attempts to help Harrison go tragically wrong. As Polly grapples with the consequences of her actions, she must decide if she is brave enough to heed the wisdom of the dead.

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EXCERPT:

“You about ready?” I ask as I sit in the grass at the corner of the gravestone.

“Sure,” Billy says, sitting back on his heels. He swings the flashlight to illuminate his handiwork. A series of objects is arranged around the perimeter of the grave. Nearest me is a chipped coffee mug with the Monroe city logo on it. Next to that there’s a single golf glove and a pile of tees. A worn dog leash curls in the corner, nestled against a plastic water dish.

“He’s the guy who died at his desk, isn’t he?” I ask. “Like two weeks ago or something.” My mom mentioned it over dinner the other night, the city employee who’d been physically fit but plagued with anger management issues. Apparently he died in the middle of a conversation.

“Yeah, that’s him. You know him?”

“No, but I’m about to.”

I wrap my hands around the mug, drawing in a few deep, clean breaths and turning my attention to Arnold Weber, sliding into his mind, or whatever’s left of it.

He died during an argument, I learn. What the hell, Scott? was his final thought. I hold the mug tighter and images start to appear in my mind. I see the inside of an office paneled in wood and carpeted in gray. There’s an industrial desk dominating the small space, buttressed by several filing cabinets. A clock ticks on the desk and I see that it’s golf-themed and inscribed with the word “Pinehurst.”

A wave of memories rushes through me as I amplify Arnold’s mind further. I see a woman’s blonde hair shot gray at the temples, her eyes tired and distant. I see the same woman in a photograph, younger, her eyes wary but hopeful beneath the veil of her wedding dress. I see a

parade of children and I see Arnold and the woman standing near this very spot on a cold, October day, watching as a tiny coffin is laid into the ground.

There are more memories. Christmas morning, Halloween night. Endless meetings and workshops where the phrases “organic synergy” and “workflow analysis” rattle around sterile conference tables. There’s a cruise in the Bahamas where everyone got sick and another to Alaska where they saw whales. As I release the mug, there’s one last image of Arnold as a college student, skipping over the art class that tugs at his pen and reluctantly signing up for an accounting class instead.

I can feel myself return to the surface, can hear Arnold’s voice yelling at Scott in my mind. Before I break through into consciousness, I hear the words “Jessam Crossing” and a voice says, “She can’t use what she can’t find.” Then I’m back in my own body, crouching over a mound of earth.

Billy is studying me.

“How long was I gone?” I ask.

“About thirty minutes. You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“What did you learn?” he asks.

“Lots.” I shake my head. “Lots of images and memories. I’m not sure where to start.”

“I can ask you the security questions when I find them,” Billy says, his voice low.

“Might be easier,” I interrupt. I clamber to my feet and we start walking back to the truck. I’m concentrating so hard on trying to recall other snippets of the conversation that I step into a badger hole and stumble to my knees.

“I gotcha,” Billy says. His hands slide from behind me to cup my elbows and leverage me to my feet. When I’m standing again, I’ve got my back to him. We’re not touching, other than his hands at my elbows, but I can sense him, his entire body towering over me, sheltering me. It’s electric. I swallow and feel my breath speed up. He moves a hair closer to me, his chest against my back, his legs brushing mine. He’s so much taller than me but I feel tall and strong standing here like this. His head dips and I can feel his breath on my neck.

“Polly—” he says, just as a bat swoops overhead, breaking the spell. I jump and take a few steps toward the truck.

“I should get home,” I say. I put my hand over my throat to conceal the rapid flutter of my heart, even though I know he can’t see it in the dark anyway.

“Let’s go,” he says at last, his voice gravelly. We go back to the truck and don’t talk the rest of the way.

Author Bio:

Although Julie K. Gilbert's masterpiece, The Adventures of Kitty Bob: Alien Warlord Cat, has sadly been out of print since Julie last stapled it together in the fourth grade, she continues to write. Her short fiction, which has appeared in numerous publications, explores topics ranging from airport security lines to adoption to antique wreaths made of hair. Julie makes her home in southern Minnesota with her husband and two children.

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Fireflies at 3 am
Danni Thomas
Publication date: December 12th 2020
Genres: Poetry

‘Fireflies at 3 am’ brings a landmark new genre to the world of literature. It’s a book with the flow of poetry but the ebb of short stories – rightfully called “Shoetry”.

This creation takes you to the roots of humanity – stripping back the veneers of life, society and interaction to see people and their ways in an entirely new light.

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Author Bio:

As a child, he was known to cook up stories to save his little ass or to pass his exams. Then he grew up a bit, only in age and size, and went to college. There, he wrote plays, won a few awards and was told to try his luck in advertising. Some kind soul, who had limited knowledge about advertising, told him that this field was all about wearing jeans to work and late-night parties. He needed no further persuasion, and without losing any more time, got into advertising.

Over the last 18 years, he worked at some of the biggest advertising agencies in the world, made some memorable ads, won international recognition for his work, and learned how to manage acid reflux. Life was OK, but he decided to complicate it by writing a book.

People nowadays avoid him like the plague lest he ask them to review his work. His children have started studying harder and his wife has taken up baking so that they can escape his nagging requests, every now and then, to read what he’s written. But all said and done, none of that has dampened his spirits. Currently, he is looking forward to selling over a million copies and is busy convincing each of his friends to buy more than 3 copies of the book. Sucker.

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Little Hood and Her Wolf
Janie Marie
(The Big Bad Wolf Trilogy, #2)
Publication date: December 8th 2020
Genres: Coming of Age, Fairy Tales, Young Adult

Kylie knew Logan Grimm came with a price. She just had no idea that the price was being told what to do by the most dangerous residents of Blackwoods.

She should run and survive, but Logan’s sweet words and even sweeter kisses keep her where she is.

Right where the Big Bad Wolf lies in wait.

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EXCERPT:

Kylie blinked a few times and stared ahead. Janie was sitting across from her and Logan, and Ryder was pouring Dr Pepper into her glass. He opened a few prescription bottles, and Janie held her hand out without saying anything, waiting for him to pour a pill from each bottle. When she swallowed the last pill, she gagged a little before receiving a kiss to her forehead.

God, she really is crazy.

Logan squeezed Kylie’s leg under the table because she was staring with her mouth open.

“Have you never seen someone take medication before?” Ryder asked, his harsh tone biting at her skin.

“Babe,” said Janie the same time Logan called out, “Ryder.”

Kylie swallowed and looked at Janie, who only smiled at her. It wasn’t the smile she’d given her yesterday though. It was forced.

“She needs to stop staring at you like you’re a fucking science experiment,” Ryder said, his voice louder as Janie cooed to him.

“She’s just curious,” Janie said, but even then, she didn’t sound the same. She sounded like a small child. Ryder didn’t seem to like that.

“Curious my ass.” He glared at Kylie.

“Enough.” Logan kept his eyes trained on Ryder.

“I’m sorry,” Kylie whispered, her heart racing under Ryder’s stare. He might not be the killer, but he was willing to be.

Janie put her hand over Ryder’s as she replied, “I take medicine to help with my PTSD and other stuff. Ryder helps me remember to take them because I don’t like to. Swallowing pills bothers me now.” Janie finally smiled, but it was all for Ryder.

“It’s none of her business.” Ryder’s voice was so loud it hurt to listen to him speak.

Gawain spoke up, putting authority into his order. “Boys, you both need to relax, or we’re sending Kylie home and taking Janie away till this mess blows over.”

“It’s fine,” said Janie when Ryder let out an angry noise at the threat being issued. Janie kissed Ryder’s cheek and whispered in his ear until he turned to peck her lips. He started eating. “He just doesn’t like people staring,” Janie said when Kylie still couldn’t look away, “or judging me.”

“I wasn’t judging,” Kylie said quickly, her voice a hushed whisper while she covered Logan’s shaking hand.

“Yeah.” Janie smiled, but it was clear she didn’t believe her. “Everything’s fine, right, babe?”

Ryder grunted and stuffed more food in his mouth.

Janie returned her focus to Kylie, her eyes flashing with fire. “Sleep well?”

Kylie tensed. “I slept fine, thanks.”

Those vibrant hazel eyes stayed on her for a moment longer before shifting to Logan. He was still glaring at Ryder, which might’ve been why Janie’s tone darkened. “Logan, put yourself in his shoes. You wouldn’t like someone staring at Kylie over any of her personal issues either. You know why it bothers him, and you know why he’s really mad.”

Logan fumed as he glared between the couple but said nothing.

Janie’s eyes narrowed. “And don’t forget you’ve reacted worse when something was said to her. This is the same.”

“It’s not the same,” Logan said between clenched teeth. “She didn’t say shit about you!”

Ryder slammed his hand down on the table and stood, glaring at Logan. “No, you just opened your fucking mouth and spilled every one of her secrets.”

Logan stood up, his eyes dangerous. Kylie grabbed his hand as Janie wrapped her arms around Ryder to keep him from lunging over the table.

“I had no choice,” Logan yelled back.

“Bullshit.” Ryder carefully peeled Janie off him and nudged her over to Gawain before stepping around the table. “We made one rule, Grimm. And that was to keep our mouths shut. I warned you not to say anything. Everyone warned you.”

“Stop.” Janie tried to break free from Gawain, but she was held tightly against her brother as Logan and Ryder stood toe to toe. “Babe, please let me handle this.”

Ryder ignored her and smirked at Logan. “You’ve been good on your word this whole time—but Blondie sucks your dick, and suddenly you’re confessing like a church girl who touched herself for the first time.”

Logan swung before the gasp finished leaving her lips. He hit Ryder right in the jaw, and it was total chaos from there.

-Little Hood and Her Wolf, The Big Bad Wolf Trilogy #2

Author Bio:

Janie Marie is a native Texan and resides in her hometown north of Austin, Texas, where she devotes her time to family, pets, and her writing.
Much of her life experiences--good and a lot of bad--are where she has chosen to draw inspiration from to create her characters and stories. It's important to her to create the kind of characters she needs or needed at one point in time because she wanted to create something only the saddest souls would recognize as brave and strong.
Be ready for raw, emotional tales, as Janie never holds back. With her darkest thoughts she found light is still possible, that the sad girl can sometimes glow the brightest. Because she is beauty surrounded by darkness.

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The Protector
Abigail Owen
(Fire’s Edge #4)
Published by: Entangled: Amara
Publication date: December 7th 2020
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

The cousin of the High King, Lyndi Chandali has lived with the constant threat of being pawned off as a political prize. A rare, female-born dragon like Lyndi can’t truly mate—not in the way it counts. Which is why she’s kept her distance from a certain sinfully delicious Beta. Instead, she’s built a life for herself giving orphaned dragons in the Americas a home.

As Beta of his team of enforcers, Levi Rowtag is a fighter first, last, and always. His job is to protect—his team, the shifters in his territory, and the stubborn woman hell-bent on fighting with him at every turn. He knows from the moment they first meet what she’ll never accept—they are destined to be mated.

But with the kings at war, the enemy is now coming for Lyndi. Worse, he’s coming for her orphans, too. He’ll have no choice but to defy his king and go rogue if he has any hope of protecting them all…and finally claiming his mate.

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EXCERPT:

Levi grunted as his dragon surged again. Still needing distance, he stumbled inside the cavern he’d just drilled a hole into, seeking calm in the cooler interior out of sight of the others.

After several minutes, he spotted the group through the entrance, all shifted and now moving inside where he waited. The newcomer, Drake, walked in front, blocking Levi’s view of the female causing him so much trouble.

Then Drake, his face seeming to be formed in a permanent scowl, red eyes glowing with flame, moved to the side, and Levi’s dick went as hard as a steel broadsword as his gaze zeroed in on her.

Silky black hair, lithe body, and the face of an angel. Her wide smile, highlighted by a deep dimple that gave her beauty an adorable edge, hit him at the same time as her spring scent. Levi agreed with his dragon on the spot.

Mine.

Lyndi turned her head away from Deep, who had escorted her inside with her hand linked through his arm, and stilled at the sight of him. No doubt his eyes were golden flames. The skin over his cheekbones tightened. Hell, everything tightened. He opened his mouth to welcome her, but her smile suddenly disappeared and she shot him a glare so full of spitting fury, he stepped back.

“Just because I am female-born doesn’t mean you need to treat me like a leper and fly away,” she snarled at him.

Levi froze, a riot of conflicting thoughts keeping him from correcting her. He knew he’d just fucked up, and his dragon was riding him hard to tell her she was wrong. That some misplaced sense of male dragon superiority wasn’t why he’d run.

It was exactly the opposite, actually.

Lyndi walked away while he stood there, still stunned, and he watched her go.

There was no easy answer here, and the lead weight in his chest told him so. Given who she was related to and what she was, not to mention her clear aversion to him already, he had no damn clue how fix any of this, or if he should even try.

Author Bio:

Award-winning paranormal romance author, Abigail Owen, grew up consuming books and exploring the world through her writing. She attempted to find a practical career related to her favorite pastime by earning a degree in English Rhetoric (Technical Writing). However, she swiftly discovered that writing without imagination is not nearly as fun as writing with it.

No matter the genre, she loves to write witty, feisty heroines, sexy heroes who deserve them, and a cast of lovable characters to surround them (and maybe get their own stories). She currently resides in Austin, Texas, with her own personal hero, her husband, and their two children, who are growing up way too fast.

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